Free Nano by Melody Mounier Page B

done.  But now that you are more or less in her position, those memories more properly fit the girl you are now, so they're slowly replacing those other, incompatible memories.  The same thing will happen with other memories.  You probably don't even remember what it was like to have a cock, do you?"
    "No, Master," I admitted.
    "Again, such memories are incompatible with who you are now.  You'll keep the facts straight, but your memories will shift gender wherever possible, and it will be very hard for you to make sense of those memories where your masculinity is central to the memory - such as sex, for instance.  In your memories of your sexual encounters, you will find yourself visualizing the moment from the viewpoint of the woman you were with."
    Reflecting, I found this to be true.  Even going back to my first love, Jenny, if I tried to visualize the first time we had sex, in the tableau I was Jenny, heavy breasted, brunette Jenny, and Sam slid his cock into me.
    Weird.  This was all really, really weird.
    John now rolled over what turned out to be a medium-sized black suitcase.  He laid it flat at my feet, bent down and unzipped the lid.  He threw it back.
    "Get in," he commanded.
    I was flustered by this.  "How?" I asked, confused.
    He slapped me.  "'How, Master?' is the proper phrase, cunt.  Step into it and kneel."
    My cheek stinging, I obeyed, and knelt inside the suitcase.
    He bent me forward and rolled me onto my side.  My body was now inside the suitcase, but my head was leaning against one wall.  My arms were tucked in between my knees and my breasts.  He pushed my head into the remaining space an closed the lid.  He zipped it up.  I heard a padlock snap.
    It was a snug, uncomfortable fit, but there wasn't any way out even if I wanted to resist.  I leaned against one side as John uprighted the case, tilted it back on its wheels, and rolled me out of the bathroom.

Chapter 18
    I spent what must have been a few hours in that suitcase, blind and cramped, but I didn't utter a peep.  There was a long period when I must have been in the trunk of a car.  When the case was finally opened, and John helped me out, I tumbled onto a large bed clumsily.  My legs had gone to sleep.
    John had put the suitcase on the bed before opening it.  Now he put it away in a closet.
    I lay on my back, waiting for feeling to return to my limbs, as John busied himself with padlocking leather cuffs around my wrists and ankles.  He rolled me over onto my stomach and padlocked all four limbs together behind me.  He then pulled down a chain from the ceiling, attached it to the padlock, and pulled up the slack, in the process pulling my ankles and wrists up with it, so they hovered a good foot over my ass.
    I looked around the room.  It wasn't a hotel room; this room probably was John's own master bedroom.  The furniture was period French Empire; bookshelves lined the walls.
    "Master, permission to speak, sir," I croaked, still recovering from the trip.
    "Yes, Anne-Marie," he said with a faint note of indulgence.
    "Master, how long - how long will I be here?"
    "As long as I want you here.  You will be returned to your apartment the way you came here, when I'm done with you.  No sooner."  He closed the drawer he'd gotten the restraints from.
    "Master - how long will you want me?"
    "I don't know yet.  A day.  A week.  Fifteen years.  And in any case you don't need to know.  You only need to know that you are in my home, and that you are here to serve me."
    I thought about that as he turned me clockwise so that my head hung over the bed.  The bed was a high four-poster, and, I soon discovered, my mouth was at exactly the right height to suck his cock.
    His male odor was doing its pheremonal thing with my sex drive, and he pumped his cock into my throat leisurely, taking his time.  It didn't seem to matter to him that I was gagging on the thing.
    I tried to concentrate on doing my duty - giving him pleasure - but