The Island of Dr. Monroe

Copyright 1996, 2007 Quark Master (master@quarkmaster.com)


Author's Notes: This story (Chapters 1-12) was the first "adult" story I ever wrote in 1996. And it was also my first serious attempt at first person. It sat unfinished for the next 10.5 years while I went off and did other things, including other adult stories. Finally, in 2007, I got re-interested and "finished" it off so to speak, adding the next 5 Chapters. Because it was my first adult story, people who've read my other works will find it a bit different.

This story is what I would call a "Slave Now" story, if you are familiar with the Yahoo Group, "SlaveNow" even though it was written well before Yahoo Groups even existed. Of course, SlaveNow style stories had been being written for a long time in print, on nifty, bbs' and newsnet, and some inspiration comes from there. However, what drove me, initially, to start this tale was Mason Powell's novel The Brig. I started writing this after reading that, of course, being me, it has my own spin, and kind of went off into left field.

Disclaimers: Standard Internet Porn Document Disclaimers Apply; To Wit:

Story Codes:

This is a long story. I believe it has pretty much every single Gay Male Story Code with the exception of Snuff or Snuff-Related (no one dies), and Slash (only implied Slash...no actual Slash is performed). That being said, I would say that there are some overriding themes are [M/m, M/tm, S/M, B/D, Slavery, X-BBM] where naturally, this being a QuarkMaster story, X-BBM means eXtreme-Bizarre Body Modifcation.

Chapters 14-16 contain some more "hardcore" elements that some readers may find distasteful (This is something of an allegorical pun, but you have to read the chapters to know why.) I mark them as such, so the squeamish need not read.



This story along with 3D Artwork based on the story may be found on my website:


http://www.quarkmaster.com


Chapter 1

One of my teachers once said that keeping a diary can help you organize and control your life. To, at the least, understand where you've been. I don't know much about writing diaries, but I need all of that so I'm going to try. Since I've never seen a real diary, I guess I'll try and write this one like a book done in first person. Peter has given me a notebook and pen that I keep hidden, I don't know if the others know about it, I hope not. All it took was one act of fate to irrevocably change my life for ever; and while most of the time I curse that event, I'm frightened by the fact that there are starting to be moments when I am grateful for it.

I had just turned fifteen when both of my parents died in a plane crash near Aspen, Colorado. They'd been returning after a week long ski trip in my dad's turbo prop. It was February and I was in school and so had been staying with my best friend Tom Everett and his family. Tom's dad and mine were really good friends and had been for years. Tom was about my age, only six months older, and we'd played together since we were little kids. In the last year, we had drifted slightly apart, as Tom got more involved in school sports than I did, but we were still close, and I considered him my closest friend and buddy.

To say I was shocked was something of an understatement. While my father and I had never been really close, I did love him, and my mother and I were very close. When Tom's father called me from the indoor pool where Tom and I were swimming, and sat me down and told me, I broke into tears. Something I'd never done in front of others before, at least since I'd been out of diapers. Tom patted me on the back, and his dad told me how very sorry he was. He was remarkably calm given how close my father and he were, but his calm helped keep me from sinking any deeper.

Of course, if news of my parents' deaths wasn't enough, the news that followed took away what little support my life had left. After talking to my parents' lawyer, I discovered that my dad was deeply in debt. He'd been living on the edge for some years due to some bad business deals. The sale of the house and the money from the few life insurance policies he hadn't cashed out to pay earlier debts would barely cover what he owed to several banks and traditional lenders. After all that he still owed nearly a hundred thousand to his best friend J.T. Monroe.

I just sat there kind of stunned, slumping down in the leather chair in front of the lawyer's desk. What about me? I asked him, what was going to happen to me and would I be responsible for the remaining debt? Both of my parents were only children, like myself, and both sets of my grandparents had been dead for several years. I literally had no relatives to turn to. I didn't have a clue what was going to happen to me. I would have been feeling desperate by this point, but I was so emotionally drained by the events of the last few days that I could barely get up the energy to even care anymore.

It was at this point my dad's lawyer told me the news that would literally change my life forever. It turns out, he told me, that a couple years back when my father last revised his will, he'd left my guardianship in the hands of J.T. Monroe, the same man he owed about a hundred thousand dollars to. The lawyer said that Dr. Monroe was flying in even as we spoke to attend the funeral and see to closing out the estate, and that, while he didn't know the man, he was sure that any man my father would appoint as my godfather, would be reasonable on the matter of the debt.

Needless to say I was very nervous about the prospect of going to live with a man I suddenly owed a lot of money to. I knew J.T. Monroe, and he'd always been good to me, the times I'd met him. He was my father's best friend, but my mother had often, especially lately, seemed somewhat leery of the man, which is another part of what made me nervous.

My father had met both J.T. Monroe and Mr. Everett when they were all at Annapolis together, and quickly became lifelong friends. Monroe had gone on to get a dual MD. and Ph.D. in Biochemistry and my father had gone into business for himself, while Tom's father took over his family's corporation, after getting out of the military. My father had done reasonably well for himself, or so I'd thought up until his death, but Monroe had apparently done fantastic. Multiple patents for various drugs and several other ventures I was only vaguely aware of. He currently owned a large island in the far south pacific, what he did there was unclear to me. My mother hadn't really known either, she said it was some sort of international trade, but she didn't know what, and if my father knew any more, he wouldn't say.

The first time I remember meeting J.T. Monroe, I must have been about five years old. He'd obviously seen me before, but to me he was a new and rather imposing man. He seemed a giant of a man to me, bigger than life, and I knew how much my father respected him, which made him seem even bigger. He took me up on his lap and bounced me around a couple times and told me what a handsome young man I was, and that he was sure I'd grow up big and strong like my dad. My father then told Monroe what a good young man I was, making me feel like a man, and he would brag of all my accomplishments. After that, Monroe would usually stop by every one or two years. Each time he'd stop, he'd pick me up or, later, pat me on the head, give my shoulders a squeeze and tell my dad what a fine and handsome son he had. My dad would then, as the first time, tell him of all my latest successes in school and elsewhere. These were some of the very few times my father would actually praise me, especially in front of others and it always made me feel very warm and secure inside. It was times like these that I felt closest to him.

The last time I'd seen Monroe stuck in my mind, because while the formula was similar it wasn't the same. I'd just turned thirteen, and looking back on it, after talking to the lawyer, that must have been about the time my father had acquired most of his debt. I'd known he'd had several bad years, but as a kid, I was never aware of the extent. That year, Monroe stopped by as he sporadically did, and he and my father had met all afternoon and gone out to dinner. My mother never went with them, saying she didn't want to intrude on their reminiscing about old times. Anyway, they got back home just as I was getting ready for bed. I was upstairs getting my pajamas on and heard Monroe ask my mom about me. I heard his booming voice and hurried down the stairs, anxious for the admiration and praise I normally got when he was around.

When I came down the stairs, Monroe smiled at me, like always, but for some reason it seemed almost more intent than usual. He patted me on the head, squeezed my shoulder and then somewhat strangely, lightly ran his hand down the curve of my PJ clad back, to the top of my butt, then swiftly removed his hand and looked at my dad. "What a pretty little boy you have James. A very pretty boy indeed." This struck me as all rather odd. When he'd run his hand down my back, I'd almost shivered at his touch, it felt almost intimate, and I didn't know what to make of it. What was odder though, was his choice of words, always in the past, he'd referred to me as a handsome young man, not a pretty little boy. Especially not at thirteen. For one thing, in my mind, pretty was a word used for girls, not boys, and for the other, I was thirteen now, more a man than I'd ever been before. The next odd thing, was that my father, instead of bragging about me, cleared his throat and looked rather uncomfortable as he quickly changed the subject to politics, while waving me to bed as he led Monroe to the other room. All in all, while I'd always liked Monroe's visits, the last time I'd seen him, things had been so different that I wasn't sure how things would be this time. Especially now that my father was dead, and he still owed Monroe a lot of money.

Monroe got there the next day, and quickly put my mind at ease, somewhat. When he saw me, he smiled broadly, then as if remembering why he was there, became somber. I wasn't sure what to make of that smile, I guess I was relieved that he was glad to see me, and didn't seem to hold anything against me, and yet slightly annoyed that he wasn't somber first, then happy. After all, it was, to that point, the worst period in my life.

Monroe had gotten there just in time for the funeral, and we rode together in a limousine from the church to the cemetery. It was the first moment we'd had to be able to talk. As we rode along, he put his hand on my thigh and leaned over to me. "Jason, I want you to know how sad I am for you. I think you know how much your father meant to me, he was a good friend, and I know a good father to you.

"I know it will be rough for you, coming to live with me. But rest assured, you will go places, see things, learn things, do things, beyond your wildest imagination. Things you can't even think of now." Monroe assured me.

"I know, thank you for doing this. It's just going to be hard to leave my home and friends behind. I've never been out of the country before." I replied. I hesitated a little bit, "Dr. Monroe, I've been told my father owed you a lot of money. I'm afraid I have no way of paying that back at this time." This had been a point that worried me greatly and I'd decided I'd better get it off my chest.

"Don't you worry about that. Your father and I had an arrangement on that issue, and it's all taken care of and settled. We can talk more of it later, when we get home to my island, but just rest assured that you don't need to think of it, it's out of your hands." He patted me on my shoulder, and squeezed it affectionately.

"You've never been out of the country?" I nodded, "then you don't have a passport?" I shook my head no. "Fine, don't worry about it. We won't have time to get you one, so I'll just arrange to fly you to Hawaii and have my private plane pick you up from there, that way you won't need a passport."

Over the next couple days, Monroe was kind and concerned and was very helpful in getting things taken care of. Signing me out of school, I'd wanted to finish the year, but Monroe said that given the school schedule on his island that it would be better to switch now, and start a new year. That had been a concern of mine, and in fact, of the judge overseeing the change of guardianship, what about schools on a private island? But Monroe had assured the judge and I that on his island was located one of the finest boarding schools for young men anywhere in the world, providing first class education and military style discipline.

The concept of military style discipline left me a little nervous, but I assumed since I'd be living with Monroe, rather than physically at the school, it might not be so bad for me. I still wasn't thrilled about leaving my friends. Tom, my best friend, and main competitor wished me well and gave me his football that we'd played catch with so many times. One thing we both lamented was that I'd miss his sixteenth birthday. Apparently in Tom's family, the sixteenth was the coming of age birthday. His father had a very special trip planned for Tom, the weekend after his birthday, but he wouldn't say what it was. Tom's older brother Jeff, wouldn't say either, other than it was a great rite of passage and the most exciting thing Tom could imagine. That it would make him a man. He promised to call or write me though and let me know all about it.

Monroe left a couple days ahead of me and gave me instructions with the ticket on how to change planes in Hawaii, along with this and a ride to the airport he also provided the support people necessary to get final details worked out and get my stuff shipped to the island. I was to just bring a duffel bag, all my other stuff was being shipped separately. And thus it was that I left the US and my old life behind.

Chapter 2

The plane ride to Hawaii was long, I'd never been there before either. My parents had gone a couple times, but I always got left behind. Unfortunately, I didn't have much time to spend there, because I had to meet Monroe's private plane to fly to his island. While slightly disappointed, it didn't bother me much since I figured I'd be spending the next several years on an island anyway.

Monroe's plane was something else, it was an old restored amphibious plane, the kind that had retractable wheels and could land normally, but had the bottom of a boat, so it could also land and take off from water. It made me think of the Fantasy Island reruns I'd seen on cable, I wondered if there was short guy on the island ready to yell 'Da plane, da plane' when it landed. This was reinforced by the fact that the plane had been completely, and luxuriously restored, and refitted for long distance trips, apparently his island was a long way from civilization. I'd looked for it on a map, but couldn't find it listed anywhere, even though Monroe had told me the general location.

Again, visions of Ricardo Montalban kept crossing my mind, although Monroe actually looked more like a dark version of Kahn in Star Trek II than Mr. Roark.

The first surprise, after the plane, was the pilot. The guy was practically bulging out of his suit. I was hard pressed to figure out how he crammed himself into the tiny cockpit. He had long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail and looked like an even bigger version of Fabio. Well, I thought, at least Monroe's employees are consistent with Monroe, this must be body builder island I'm going to. This idea, however, was put to rest when I met the flight attendant. This man was a fairly short thin young man with a shorter than military style crew cut. After we were airborne he came out and almost timidly asked if I wanted anything to eat or drink. He referred to me politely as 'sir' and refused to look me in the eye, instead he constantly looked down at my feet. I accepted a coke and a sandwich, and shortly thereafter fell asleep for the rest of the trip.

I woke up when the roar of the engines changed in pitch. We were heading in for a landing. I quickly looked out window. The island was huge, but appeared almost deserted. There was a beach with a very large dock, lots of palm trees, one very large tropical looking mansion and a few small out buildings. Everything else was jungle. There was no sign of any boarding school, and certainly no sign of a runway. The lack of a boarding school slipped from my mind as I realized that the plane was about to land on the water. That was so cool, I thought to myself. As the plane came down, I gripped the armrests tightly having never experienced a water landing, I didn't know what to expect. As we landed, there were a couple of skipping bumps, accompanied by a large spray of water and then we were cruising across the surface of the bay, just like on Fantasy Island. Unfortunately, I was on the wrong side of the plane to see much as we taxied up to the dock. I could hardly wait to get out and see my new home.

The door was opened from the other side, and I eagerly stepped out onto the dock. It was then that I began to really wonder what I'd gotten into. There were four men waiting on the dock, one who'd opened the door, and three others. Of the three, the most commanding was the one in the middle. He was, like Monroe and the pilot, huge. Unlike either of them, this man was wearing very little. He was wearing leather chaps, something like cowboys wore, only solid black. Underneath he wasn't wearing any jeans, only some sort of tight fitting leather underwear, a codpiece (?) I didn't know. From the waist up, he was undoubtedly impressive; he wore only a few leather straps crisscrossing his chest, almost like some sort of harness, joined together by a silver ring in the middle of his large hairy chest. This guy was also, obviously, a body builder, he almost put Arnold to shame. He had to be about 6'5" tall, judging by my own 5'4" On, both arms he wore tight black silver studded armbands, looking like they would pop off if he so much as flexed his biceps. He too had a crew cut, but his, unlike the steward's was true military, flat on top. He also had a closely trimmed mustache.

While the sheer presence of this man drew my eyes, the others on dock were not what one would call ignorable. There were two other large men, one on each side of the giant man in chaps. Each of them, while shorter, was still over six feet tall and nearly as heavily muscled. They too had very hairy chests, stomachs and legs, but their heads were completely bald, only eyebrows. These men wore no chaps. Instead each wore what looked to be leather jock straps about two sizes too small, and the same sort of crisscrossed leather straps and studded armbands. At their belts, each wore a rather nasty looking bullwhip, and something that looked like a narrow leather broom (?) They had leather handles like the whips, but ended in a number of long leather strips. Kind of like a multi-headed whip. I'd never seen anything like them before. I'd never seen anything like these men before.

The fourth man was the least impressive, but no less shocking. This was the man who'd opened the door. He was of normal proportions, about 20 years old, wiry muscular instead of body builder like. However, this man wore almost no clothing, if you could call what the others were wearing clothes. This man wore only a metal studded leather collar, like a dog's, on his neck and an armband like the others, but on his right arm only. He also had leather wrist and ankle bands on as well. Aside from that he wore nothing. He was completely naked, what's more--he was completely hairless. No hair on his head, not even eyebrows, or around his crotch, which for his age, I thought was pretty strange. But being fairly new to puberty (and running a bit behind my friends, I hate to admit) I wasn't really able to judge.

The big man, in the center quickly brought me to attention. "You are Jason." He stated rather than asked, in a deep commanding voice. A voice that left me little doubt as to the truth of what he'd said, even if my name hadn't been Jason.

"Yes, hi! and you are?" I asked, sticking my hand out to shake his.

He stared contemptuously at my hand for a second before turning smartly around and saying, "Follow me." He started off down the dock, the two other large men separating slightly to be on either side of me as I shrugged and began to follow this strange man, who seemed to leave no room for questions. The naked man stayed to help the pilot and steward secure the plane.

The big man led me off the dock and across the beach, away from the palace, as I now saw it to truly be, and over to the edge of the palm trees. As we got nearer I noticed what looked like a concrete bunker type thing sticking up out of the palm trees. It had a single, heavy metal door, and was so small it had to be the top of a staircase leading underground. Suddenly I was thinking Jurassic Park. I wondered if I was one of those poor schmucks about to get eaten during the movie. This was definitely not looking good.

I wanted to ask questions, but none of my escorts (?) seemed to be the type to encourage conversation. The big man opened the doorway, and had the man on my left hold it as he preceded me down the stairs. This was definitely getting odder by the moment, if that was possible. At the base of the stairs we proceeded down a long corridor to an elevator. How much of this place was underground? As we got in the elevator I noted that there were buttons for six floors. This place was huge!

We exited on the fourth floor and walked down a long hallway with doors on either side. We reached one double door and the big man put his thumb on a pad by the door and a buzzing sound followed, during which he opened the door to let me through. He ushered me ahead of himself into what looked like a large lab. All around were tables full of chemicals and various hi tech machinery. Through glass windows I could see a few people working in even larger rooms with more computers and equipment. The big man led me across the room to another door, then down a corridor to another, normal door, which he again ushered me into.

This room was good sized and looked like a large examining room in a doctor's office. As I entered, the big man took my duffel bag from my arm before I could protest. He then exited the room through the same door, with my bag, leaving the other two guys guarding the door.

"What am I supposed to do now?" I asked them to no avail. They just looked blankly ahead, ignoring me. Not knowing what else to do, I sat down on the edge of the examining table. After about five minutes the door opened and an older man came in. This man looked like a doctor. He was the first truly normal, fully clothed person I'd seen. Unless you count the pilot and steward, which I didn't.

With a quick gesture he motioned for me to stand up, which I did. "Strip." He ordered.

"Excuse me?" I asked rather confused.

"I said strip boy. I'm a doctor and I have to give you a physical. It's standard procedure, now do it." His voice left no room for real question, and it did make some sense. I guess if I were starting a boarding school, I'd need a physical, but what sort of boarding school was this? "Where's Monroe?" I asked.

"Doctor...Monroe will be along shortly, now for the last time, strip." Not knowing what else to do, I stripped down to my underwear. "Shorts too." I slightly grimaced and looked pointedly to the guards. "Shorts," was all the doctor said, just staring impatiently at me. Nervously, I complied, but turned to grab my clothes from the table and hold them in front of my privates. The doctor shook his head slightly then grabbed my clothes from me and handed them to one of the guards. Having nothing else available, I tried to cover my self with my hands.

The guard with my clothes turned and left with them through the door. The other one stayed at attention. The doctor went over and got stuff from a cabinet, when I looked over at him, he turned around with a syringe and equipment for drawing blood. "Blood test first, give me your right arm." I nervously complied as he took my arm, leaving me only one hand to shield myself with, and proceeded to draw what seemed to me to be an enormous amount of blood. He then dabbed my finger with alcohol and took a small scraping knife and whacked off a bit of skin on to a slide.

While I was sucking on my hurt finger he came back and proceeded to measure me. Everywhere, like for a suit only more so. He measured my height, inseam, neck, back, arms, legs, feet, waist, chest, biceps, triceps, calves, thighs, even my nipples, penis and the diameter of my testicles. While he was doing this I was highly embarrassed, but even so was mortified to find my penis starting to get hard. I blushed hard. After he did this, he proceeded to look in my eyes, nose, ears and mouth, quickly running his fingers around my teeth, looking quickly for cavities, I guess.

At this point the door opened, and to my embarrassment and relief, in walked Monroe. Surely he would straighten this craziness out. My quick relief started to vanish however, when he glanced at me, almost like I wasn't there. "Dr. Monroe," I asked, "What's going on here? I don't understand this."

He glared at me, almost annoyed that I'd speak to him. "Be quiet boy," he said in a firm voice. "You will only speak, when spoken too."

"But..." I protested. He glared at me angrily. I shut up.

"How goes the exam?" he asked the doctor.

"Nearly done, just the hole is left. You want to inspect now, before I do it?"

"Might as well," Monroe told the doctor. He looked sternly at me. "Hands at your sides, at attention, boy." I didn't know what else to do, I was too confused by the whole situation, so I complied.

Monroe walked casually around me, looking me up and down, like I was some sort of meat. He nodded his head a couple times. He stood in front of me, and reached up and pried my mouth open with his thumb, which he stuck inside and rubbed around my teeth and gums, like he was buying a horse. It felt really weird.

He pulled his thumb out and reached down with his index finger and circled my right nipple lightly with the tip of his finger. His touch sent shivers down my spine, I'd never felt anything like it. As he continued to rub the edges of my nipple it started to contract and harden. Unfortunately, so did my penis. I tried to move my hand to cover myself but he quickly slapped my hands to my side. He looked down at my groin staring pointedly at my penis.

"Nice tits, must be almost quarter sized." My face flushed, my nipples had lately been causing me some embarrassment, they'd started to get bigger and kind of puffy like, so they stuck out if I wore too tight a shirt, so I'd taken to wearing baggy clothing. Here he was talking about them like this. If possible, I was beginning to feel even more mortified.

"Late bloomer. Looks like he just started puberty." He rubbed lightly at the small patch of hair that had lately sprung up around my penis. He raised one of my arms to look in my arm pit where only a couple hairs had started do grow, and were barely noticeable.

"Yes, very late. We've caught him at a good time." The doctor agreed.

"Yes, look at his pale skin." He ran his hands lightly down my side causing goose bumps. "Perfectly flawless, not a mole or blemish that I can see. Pale and nearly hairless. This is good." His hand traced under my left nipple. "Some slight muscular development in the pecs."

"Yes," the doctor agreed. "Not much yet, but I think very very good potential, notice the puffiness of the nipple, the bitch tit symptom, that usually indicates good potential for pectoral development."

"So can we arrest general development, and highlight specifics?" Monroe asked, he didn't make much sense to me, what was going on?

"Should be no problem. I assume we stop the hair growth." Monroe nodded. "I think he will respond well to localized injections of HGH-132L3 around the pectorals. Add some of the modified Estrogen 16C29 near the aureoles and we can increase the nipples very satisfactory.

"What?" I said, getting alarmed. Monroe glared angrily at me for interrupting. I shut up.

"What do you want to do about the penis and testicles?" the doctor asked. I was silently starting to freak. I didn't have a clue what these guys were talking about, but I knew I didn't like it.

"Dick isn't much, but it's probably too big already." Monroe said.

"Its approximately 5.2 inches when erect. Is that too big?" the doctor said. Monroe thought for a moment.

"We may want to do something about that. Also T131-45D96 into the testicles and scrotum I think." The doctor nodded. "What about the prostate?" Monroe asked. What was a prostate? I wondered.

"Well, obviously generalized arresting of pubescence will keep that small. If you prefer, I think we can find something to make it continue to grow, and maybe even enlarge it, for higher sensitivity." Monroe nodded in approval, but I had no idea what he was approving. "Any further things we can do will have to await the DNA tests." The doctor said.

"Fine." Monroe nodded. "Proceed with your exam." He stepped back a ways from me, to give the doctor room. The doctor went to his cabinet and pulled out some rubber gloves and a tube of something, along with some sort of metal probe about the size of thick cigar, but apparently attached to a small flashlight.

He smiled as he came back to me. "Turn around, and bend over."

'Uhm," I said. I looked at Monroe who simply stared levelly back at me, waiting for compliance. I shrugged, turned and bent over, gripping the side of the table. Having had a physical before, I had an idea what was coming, but I didn't like it. "Ugh," I said as his finger slid up my asshole. It hurt, he poked and prodded as far as he could. Then he pulled his finger out, and spread the cheeks of my butt. I felt something really cold against my hole. I tried to contract to keep it out. The doctor suddenly slapped my butt hard, startling me. This relaxed my sphincter muscles enough for him to shove the metal probe in. "Aaaaaahhh, ugghhhhh" I cried in pain. God did it hurt. I'd never felt anything like that. Like it was ripping me apart.

"Real tight." the doctor said, "that can be good, but we might want to inject something to give it more flexibility, enhance controllability, especially if you intend to do the prostate injections." Monroe grunted. After peering up my butt for a few more moments, the doctor pulled his probe out. My muscles ached where it had been, feeling almost stretched out. Almost like it was still there.

I turned around slowly, I'd at least lost most of my hard on. I hadn't noticed, but the other guard and big man had returned. If I hadn't already been red in the face I'd have flushed more on realizing they'd seen me while the doctor had my butt wide open. I looked around but my clothes were no where in sight. Monroe got up, nodded to the big man and left. The guard who'd taken my clothes came up to me, catching my eyes with his. I was so busy watching his eyes, that I didn't notice what he was doing, until he'd snapped the collar around my neck. I was startled and grabbed at the collar only to find it locked on tight. As my fingers searched over it, I could find no sign of a snap or hook, only metal studs and what might have been a wider piece of metal at the back.

"It has an electro-magnetically controlled lock on the back." The big man answered my unspoken question. "Only I or someone else with appropriate authority can unlock it." As I opened my mouth to complain, he raised a warning finger. "Only speak when spoken to." He said sternly. "Follow me."

Having no real choice I followed him out and down the hall, trying to cover myself as we went through the labs. He took me down the elevator to the next floor down. From there we went down a long hallway and then through a series of metal gates, much like in a prison. Eventually we arrived at a series of doors with a smaller doors at the bottom, and closable viewing windows at eye level for the guards, but too high for me. As with other locked doors the big man used his thumb on a pad beside the door to unlock it, and open it. He waved me in.

Not seeing much choice I entered. It was what I feared. Basically a prison cell. There was a narrow cot with a blanket, a small chamber pot in one corner and strangely a big wooden armchair with hooks at various points on it. I didn't want to think about that thing. Without saying anything further, he shut the door on me.

Alone, finally I was alone. What the hell had I gotten myself into? What was going on here? I fell down on the bed and sobbed. At this point I had no idea what was going on, but it didn't look fun. What was Monroe up to, and why had my dad trusted me with him?

Chapter 3

I have no idea how long I was in the cell, but it was probably a couple hours later that the small door opened. Through it slid a small tray with a chocolate shake on it. That was odd. It wasn't what I expected for prison food. If this was a prison. While it looked good, I was more hungry than thirsty and I'd wished there'd been food instead. Anyway, I drank it, having nothing else. It wasn't a particularly good chocolate shake, kind of dry, if a shake can be dry, but it was better than nothing.

Perhaps another hour after I drank the shake, I was starting to dose off, when the door to my cell opened. I sat up quickly, but found myself slightly dizzy and almost over shot. It took a few moments to stabilize myself. When I looked up, Monroe was in the cell, sitting in the strange chair, almost like it was a throne.

"What..." I started to say, then remembered what I'd been told about being spoken to and fell quiet, hanging my head slightly to acknowledge my mistake. He nodded his head in return, noting my realization.

"You may speak freely, for this interview." He sat quietly waiting for me to speak.

"What am I doing here? What's going on?" I asked. He simply stared at me, as if I hadn't said anything and he was still waiting for me to speak. I was rather puzzled by this, but then thought of his military background, and the sort of military discipline he said his 'school' had. So I belatedly added, "sir?"

He smiled tightly and nodded at me when I said that. Obviously that was what he'd been waiting for. "You are here because your father signed you over to me. I am doing to you what I do for a living."

"Signed me over to you sir? What you do for a living? I'm sorry but that doesn't make any sense to me." I said, then again belatedly added, "sir."

"Signed you over, collateral is the term. As you know, your father owed me a great deal of money. When I lent it to him two years ago, he'd already mortgaged his house too many times to be worth anything, so he put you up as collateral for the loan."

That hit me like a brick. "What? Put me up for collateral. You can't put people up as collateral." At least I didn't think you could. "Even if you could, he wouldn't have done that." I looked at him, expecting a response. He stared back as if I hadn't spoken. "Sir." I added.

"One most certainly can and he most certainly did. I have the papers. While not entirely legal in the States, it isn't that uncommon in the rest of the world, and now we are in the rest of the world."

"But that makes it sound like ownership. People don't own other people," I said, "sir."

"Look boy, I won't mince words with you. You know that's not true. It's called slavery and it has been going on since the dawn of time."

"You mean like plantation workers? But the civil war ended that, sir."

"In the US. Not elsewhere, and not even in the US. And in this case, it's not really plantation workers. While I do sell some laborers, I mainly deal in more specialized products. Things that I, with my background, am able to better supply than most people."

I sat there for a moment, stunned. "You're saying my father sold me into slavery? For a loan?" I looked at him bewildered, I couldn't believe it. I finally remembered to add the "sir."

"Yes that's what I'm saying. Remember the last time I visited your father, that was what we agreed upon at dinner."

"But at the funeral, you said I shouldn't worry about, it that it was all taken care of, out of my hands, sir."

"I did, and I told you the truth. It was taken care of, your father signed you over to me, he failed to pay up, so I came to collect my collateral, and I did. And it was out of your hands, there was nothing you could have done to stop me from collecting you, so you didn't need to worry about it. The debt is paid now that I have you."

My mind was reeling, I was grasping at straws. "Look, I'm sure I can figure out some way to pay back the debt, I can borrow money from friends get a job? Sir?"

"The debt is already paid. I own you." His words sent weird feelings running down my spine that I couldn't interpret. "There is no way you could come up with the money, you're only a boy. Besides even if you could, now that I own you, anything you have is mine, and even if I wanted the money and it was yours to give me, I wouldn't take it. You're worth more to me than what your father owed."

"But why? I can't do anything? I'm no good at manual labor. Why am I worth anything to you? I'm just a kid, as you said." "Sir," I added when he didn't say anything.

"You really don't understand do you?" I shook my head. "As I said, I generally don't sell laborers, I sell specialty products. To be blunt, specially trained, and often modified, sex slaves."

"Sex slaves?" The concept took me by storm. "You mean like unwilling prostitutes?...sir?"

"Somewhat, only more so, most prostitutes aren't slaves, and there are limits what you can do with a prostitute. There are no limits with slaves. Slaves aren't people. They are objects, possessions. And you had better get used to it fast. You aren't a person anymore, you are a slave. You are a piece of property, like a car, a house. If you are lucky, your eventual owner, might, just might, come to treat you as well as a dog or horse, but maybe not."

I got a real sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I sat there trying to absorb this. It was then something else he had said hit me, and I made a connection to what he and the doctor had been saying earlier. "You said, often modified, what did you mean by that? sir?" I was almost too scared to hear the answer to this one.

He smiled slightly, "well, you know my history, my degrees?" I shrugged slightly, indicating I knew a little. "Anyway, I am a doctor and a biogenetic chemist, I've made a lot of money on my drug research and patents, especially in the fields of hormone and genetic therapy. Of course, my best research, I don't share, I use it where I can make even more money. I've assembled a crack team here, I pay them well, in more than just cash. We have made incredible strides in biochemistry and what I like to call genetic chemistry. More than what could ever have been done under the ethical constraints imposed on researchers in the US. What I can do with gene therapy, hormone treatment, systemic, non-systemic and psychoactive drugs would both horrify and amaze researchers in the US. My little empire is not exactly the Island of Doctor Moreau that H.G. Wells described, but for the purposes of creating the perfect sexual slaves, it's close enough. He made animals human, I make humans slaves."

I leaned back in shock. I didn't completely see the ramifications of what he was talking about, for one thing I knew very little about sex and what people wanted, but I understood enough to be scared. "And you're going to do this to me? But why? sir?"

"Because I can. And since from the moment I saw how you were developing, not just two years ago when your dad signed you over to me, although that pushed the buttons, but from watching you grow over the course of your entire life, I knew that you would be worth a lot of money. You are a very pretty boy, and a lot of wealthy men would give a lot to have you around to fuck." Monroe stood up to leave.

As he knocked on the door to be let out, I had one last question. "Sir?" He looked down at me. "Did my dad know what you did? Did he know what he was signing me over for?"

Monroe was silent for a second. "Yes, yes he did. You see, sometimes I rent out slaves, as well as sell them. He was one of my customers, that's one reason he was so in debt to me, and others. He knew exactly what was in store for you if he defaulted, even more so than you currently realize, and he signed the papers." With that he left. I sank back down on the cot, and cried myself to sleep.


Chapter 4

The next morning, or so I think it was. I was awoken by my cell door being thrown open, and two guards grabbing me. Startled, I didn't protest as they almost dragged me down the hall, around a corner and through two large doors into a large tiled room. The first guard pointed to an exposed toilet, with no seat, and told me to squat and relive myself. I didn't want to in front of these men, but to be honest, I had to go pretty bad. So I squatted over the toilet and to my embarrassment found I had a case of diarrhea. After noisily and somewhat messily relieving myself I found there was no toilet paper. I looked at the guards.

While I'd been relieving myself one of the guards had gone and gotten a small rubber hose and fastened a plastic tip on the end of it. He motioned for me to come forward slightly, and I did, at a loss what to do with out toilet paper. The other guard came forward and held my head down, so I stayed bent over. The second guard rubbed some sort of Vaseline or something on the plastic tip of the small rubber hose that led to a spigot on the wall. Before I knew what was happening the one guard had shoved the tip up my butt. I grunted in surprise and tried to stand up, but the other guard kept me bent over.

I heard the first guard turn the knob above the spigot, and shortly felt a very weird sensation as water started churning into my bowels. After a few minutes of churning the guard holding me let me stand up. But still the water came in. I was starting to feel real pressure in my bowels when the guard at the spigot stopped the water flow. "Hold it in," he said as he reached down and pulled the hose out of my asshole. "Now squat over the toilet and release." I did as instructed. and if I thought diarrhea felt odd, this was no comparison. As soon as I had let all the water out, the process was repeated. Then a third time.

On the third time however, the guard let the water continue to flow. It went on and on, until my belly started to distend from the water pressure. Finally when I was sobbing from the pressure. He turned the water off. But then they just stood there, not letting me release it. I squirmed from side to side, the pressure was severe. Eventually after about ten minutes when I thought surely I'd explode, they helped me squat and I relieved myself.

After this they led me to the center of the white tiled room. Lifting my arms, they pulled down some plastic cuffs attached by rubber cords to loops in the ceiling. With this they secured my hands above my head, so my arms were spread wide and high. Then to my surprise and trepidation went and unrolled what looked like a fire hose from a coil. Before I could think to protest I was blasted with hot water.

While not unbearably hot by itself, the heat and high pressure caused a severe stinging sensation all over my body, wherever water struck me. This deluge went on for what seemed like forever as they tried to make sure no crack, crevice or part of my body was left unscathed.

Eventually this little part of hell ended, and they led me to another room. I was positioned in the center of four nozzles, which shortly began to blow hot air all over me with considerable force. I was getting an all over blow dry. It was all I could do to remain standing in my weakened condition. Eventually they had me dry. Once dried I was taken to a sink and given a toothbrush and told to brush my teeth. After complying, the guard spread my mouth wide with his left hand and used his fingers to inspect my teeth and gums.

At this point the two led me to the elevator and back to the fourth floor. This time, however, I was taken to a different examining room than before. In this room, the examining table had been fitted with odd metal contraptions at one end. These I quickly learned were to put my feet in. I was laid on the table with my feet in the stirrups (I later learned they were called). This placed my feet higher then my head, my thighs rising perpendicular to the table and my knees bent, and my legs spread, exposing my asshole. At the top of the examining table were extensions for arms, to which my wrists were strapped and spread. Straps were also placed across the bottom my rib cage and over my forehead. I was completely immobilized. I had been too worn out by the shower ordeal to even put up a fight.

After being strapped in, I waited for about twenty minutes with the guards at the door, standing at attention. Eventually, what I guess was a lab technician came in. I couldn't see what he was doing on the other side of the room since my head was immobilized, but eventually he came over with a small cart and some sort of thing that looked like a cross between a soldering iron and some sort of hair plucker. The little red light on the tip, made me think there might me some sort of laser attached to it. If I had thought the shower hellish, little did I realize what was about to happen me.

I don't really know how long it took, but it seemed like days, but must only have been a few hours. What the technician did was simply go over my entire body, starting with my asshole and remove any hair he found. I don't know if he was plucking, burning or what. All I knew was that each hair stung like bee as he removed it. Each hair might have been bearable by itself but after so many the pain just didn't stop and quickly began to escalate. At some point during the procedure, I guess to calm me down or distract me, he told me a little about what he was doing. He said it was called opto-electrolysis, and that while painful, was nowhere near as bad as the old methods.

What it did, he said was remove hairs, one at a time and destroy the hair follicle. It was permanent hair removal. He said I was lucky, because I'd only started growing hair on my body, I didn't have many to remove. Just a few around my asshole, in valley between my balls and hole, the small patch around my penis, a couple under my arms, three or four around each nipple and about half as much leg and arm hair as most guys my age he worked with. He said in the old days, it would have taken him nine or ten hours, but with the new technique and the sparseness of my hairs he could finish it in six. Six hours! Six hours of hell, with only short breaks between them for the technician to stretch and get something to drink.

Finally it was done. After he put away the equipment, and gently massaged ointment into my battered skin, he came over with a syringe and gave me a several shots, in various locations on my body. He told me that these shots and subsequent ones, in addition to drugs that I would get in my food (for some reason he didn't have a problem telling me about my food being drugged, I guess it was because I had no choice but to take the drugged food or starve) would completely halt the process of puberty. I would stay just like I was for a long time. No more body or facial hair would ever grow, I wouldn't get any taller, nor would any other secondary male characteristics develop, like my voice cracking (which it hadn't). By this point, I could barely think, the magnitude of what had been done to me hadn't yet hit me.

It was only after I was back in my cell that what had happened hit me. Shit, they were trying to make me boy forever. Trying to keep me from ever being a man. Why? I just couldn't understand how someone could do that to me?

These thoughts weren't the scariest part though. I gently rubbed my tender groin, crying about the loss of what little pubic hair I'd had, thinking back on the excitement and secret pride I'd felt when I'd finally started growing hair like the other boys, after being a couple years behind most, and now knowing that it was gone for good, that I'd never have the body of a man. The scariest part though, was that as I did so, I felt my penis start to get hard, even though I wasn't even touching it directly. It was the thoughts of the loss that was doing it. What was wrong with me?





That evening I got another milk shake, by that time I was so hungry, thirsty and weak enough that I didn't care if it was drugged, I hadn't had anything to eat or drink since the last shake, except two glasses of water during breaks in the electrolysis.

The next morning I was once again woken by my door banging open and guards coming into haul me to the shower. The whole process of the previous days cleaning was repeated, both inside and out. This time things went a bit smoother, since I hadn't had any solid food in a long time. After the blow dry I was led to the same examining room, all the time trying to cover my denuded groin from public scrutiny. As I entered the room I passed Monroe and the doctor coming down another hallway. They glanced at my attempted modesty and Monroe raised an eyebrow as if he found it amusing.

Once again I was strapped in the stirrups and my arms spread above me. What hair was left to remove I thought? Surely they won't do electrolysis on the hair on my head? Then I remembered the guy at the dock and got nervous. However, this time Monroe and the doctor came in along with the technician. The technician came over and administered the same series of shots he had yesterday.

"Those are the shots to arrest puberty," the doctor explained to Monroe. "They're the standard gland inhibitors you developed along with the hormonal regulators in his food."

"Good." Monroe said as he came over to inspect the electrolysis. He rubbed his hand on my groin. I swallowed as I felt my penis harden. I saw him smile at my body's reaction. "What about the test results?" He began to gently stroke my right nipple with his left hand. His right stroked my scrotum, and then his middle finger slid down towards my asshole, gently stroking the tender skin. The sensation was almost too much to bear, I let out a small whimper at his ministrations. I felt something wet on my groin, and even with my head immobilized I was able look down my body, just enough to see the tip my penis leaking precum. Monroe ran his hand up the inside of my thigh. Stroking, gently stroking, I had never in my life felt anything so good.

"Very positive," the doctor said. "His genetic code is one of the very very few we've found compatible with the new neurogrowth stimulators. With select applications we should be able to triple the nerve density in whatever part of the body we want."

"Good, we've already decided on the hormones for enhancing his tits, so let's apply the neurogrowth stimulators there. He's been a bit modest, apparently having trouble getting used to going without clothes." He looked at me. "I know you want your clothes back, boy, but you won't be getting them back, from now on, you'll only wear clothes if it pleases your master. And by the time we're finished with you, you won't want to."

He looked at the doctor, "I want his nipples so sensitive that even wearing a silk shirt will irritate them." He twisted my nipple suddenly, causing me to gasp. "Also, boost the receptors around and inside his anus as well, we'll give the boy a genuine pussy, make him forget about this little thing. He gently rubbed the dripping tip of my penis, my eyes felt like rolling in my head. I thought my penis was going to explode. "But even so, go ahead and increase them in his balls and dick too. We'll make it so even the loosest softest underwear drives him insane. What do you think double or triple? How about an overall 20-30% boost to the rest of his epidermis? I don't want that too high, don't want him passing out too soon at the post. Also, while it might be nice to have him forget his dick, some owner might like a torture cock. What about the other tests?"

"All the ones you ordered were positive, you're getting good at spotting who'll take which treatments. We should have no trouble with the HGH variations for upper body development, with the RH-5C treatment we won't have to worry about any hair growth side effects from the various HGH combinations, they'll also enhance the four variations on female hormones for nipple enhancement and subcutaneous epidermal fat layers. As for the prostrate, no problem, nor with the testicular and penile injections, as well as all any of the gastrointestinal modifications you have discussed.


Even if I had understood what they were talking about, I wouldn't have cared, I was almost in heaven under Monroe's ministrations. I didn't know that a person could feel this good. Sure I'd figured out jacking off, but it was nothing like what Monroe was doing to my body now.

I barely heard Monroe say, "What about the psychoactive conditioning drugs?"

"No problems, we should be able to induce any of the physiological dependencies you suggested." Monroe had been gently stroking my asshole again. Suddenly, he thrust his middle finger up my ass. My almost closed eyes shot wide open as the pain penetrated my nervous system. At the same moment my face was splattered from the cum shooting from the head of my penis. I came harder than I ever had in my life.

"Good, very good." Monroe said.





Monroe left the room, and shortly the technician came with a wet cloth to clean me up, and then rub more lotion on to my skin to ease the pain from yesterday, while the doctor was messing with something on the other side of the room. After the technician had left. The doctor wheeled a cart over. "Now boy, just a few more shots and then we are done for the day. I could barely see out of the corner of my eye that the doctor's cart had a lot of needles lined up on a tray. He took the first one, dabbed a spot on the side of my left pectoral and injected it. The needle bite was sharp, but the sensation was cold. The doctor then proceeded with a second injection on the other side of the same pectoral, and then did two shots to my right. This was followed by two very painful shots to each nipple. A shot to each shoulder, upper thigh, and buttock followed.

He then moved between my legs and did a series of about five shots around my asshole. Tears were starting to run down my cheeks, but even so this wasn't as bad as yesterday. I couldn't see what he was doing but suddenly there was a shooting fire in my left testicle. I screamed and tried to thrash in my bonds, but I was highly immobilized. Then I notice a really long needle, he was preparing. Scared, I stopped moving. Suddenly there was a protracted sharp pain between my balls and asshole. It seemed to take forever, how far was he shoving that thing. It hurt bad. I whimpered as it ended. Then screamed again as my right testicle went shooting up in flames. Who'd ever heard of getting shots in the balls?

The doctor then went away for a few moments. I prayed he was done. Unfortunately it was to now avail. The next thing I knew he was sticking me at the base of my penis with three shots. Next came pain comparable only to the testicle shots as he jabbed my penis with his needles for three more shots.

Finally, he was done, and I breathed a sigh of relief as he left. The guards came and released me, but I was so gone by this time, they practically had to carry me back to my cell. I dropped onto my cot and was out like a light.


Chapter 5

I woke later in the evening to find my shake already slid under the door. What's more my penis was experiencing a sort of burning sensation and itching terribly. I guessed it must have been some allergic reaction to the shots, but I don't know. It was almost painful, and there seemed to be no way to make it stop itching. I drank my shake and walked around the room, trying to rid myself of the sensation.

In wandering around I noted that the chair with the loops and hooks on it, also apparently had a removable bottom. The chair actually had a hole in the seat, normally that hole was covered by a round wooden cover that fit in some grooves, but that cover came out. It was kind of weird, like a wooden toilet chair almost. I shook my head, not having a clue what that would be useful for.

I laid down and tried to consider my options. Obviously I needed to escape, but I couldn't see how. I was in a locked underground complex with guards and people, in the middle of a tropical island. An island hundreds if not thousands of miles from civilization. Even if I made it out of the 'dungeon' as I had started to think of it, I would still have no way off the island. The only way off was by plane, and sneaking on it would probably be hard. For one thing, if I did get out of the dungeon, how would I know if the plane was going to be there, would it be guarded? Was there even a place I could stow away on it? Thinking of the burly guards and their whips, I wasn't sure I wanted to find out what the punishment for attempting to escape would be if I didn't make it. Eventually I tossed and turned my way to sleep.


The next morning I was once again woken in a similar manner; once again cleaned inside and out. Finally, as before, I was brought to the room with the stirrup table. This morning the technician came in and proceeded to give me all his normal shots. When he finished he wheeled over another cart and then left the room. I couldn't see what was on the new cart, but I had a bad feeling about it. Shortly, the doctor and the technician came in. The doctor got some stuff off the cart and positioned himself between my spread legs. I tried watching him as best I could but it was difficult.

He seemed to have a small red rubber bag attached to a small hose. This hose was similar to the ones the guards used to clean me out with. The doctor rubbed some sort of jelly substance on the plastic tip at the end of the hose and then looked at me.

"Wondering what this is?" he asked.

"Yes sir?"

"It's an enema. In addition to your nightly feedings we shall also be feeding you this way."

"Feeding, sir?"

"Yes," he said as he put his hand on my butt, spreading my cheeks slightly. He stuck the tip in my anus. Having already been through something similar once this morning, it didn't bother me much. I was starting to get used to it. "You see, the advantage of administering certain drugs and nutrients through the rectum is that the body absorbs them much faster." He started squeezing the bag. It was slightly odd, instead of the quick splashy feeling of the water, I barely felt anything, maybe a small oozing sensation. "I can give you a high dose of the necessary vitamins, nutrients and various drugs that you need for your development this way, and have you assimilate them much more efficiently than if you ate the stuff. Besides, some of this stuff wouldn't taste very good at all."

I didn't know what to say. I didn't like all these drugs and shots they were giving me. Who knew what they were up to? But there wasn't much I could do tied up as I was. After the doctor finished he pulled the tube out and told me to keep my asshole closed for a while and not let any out. I was half tempted to try and expel it, but I wasn't sure I could, and it would probably just make him mad to no avail.

The doctor put away the enema bag and then to my horror, began picking syringes up off his cart. The same series of shots he gave me yesterday were about to be repeated. Once again I screamed as he jabbed the needles into my testicles and penis, and grunted as the really long one penetrated between my legs. By the time he was finished I was breathing very hard.

The doctor left then, and I expected the guards to come and take me back to my cell. However, that wasn't to be the case. I laid on the couch for about a half hour, thinking I'd been forgotten. Praying I'd been forgotten, if it meant the doctor coming back with more needles. Eventually, my two guards came in, along with the big man with the mustache and chaps.

He motioned for the guards to release me, which they did. They then held their hands on my shoulders as I stood at the end of the table, while the big man looked me over for a few minutes. Silently he stood there, saying nothing, and then he reached out a single large hand and brushed my left nipple with the back of his fingers. A shiver ran down my spine. His mild brushing then turned to a soft caressing and my face turned red as I felt my penis coming to attention. His other hand then came up and started caressing my other nipple. It felt real good, all I could do was close my eyes and moan slightly as my penis became completely rigid. Suddenly he stopped and I opened my eyes. He was looking down at my hardon and smiling. "Follow me, hands at your side," and with that he turned and left the room.

One guard held the door and I went out behind him. The two guards followed a step behind me. Ensuring that anyone we crossed would have no trouble seeing me in my rather embarrassing condition. When we got to the big lab area with all the equipment, I froze in my tracks, because there were six or seven people working in the room at that moment. Two of them women. I couldn't go through a room full of people, naked and with a hardon! But I was given no choice, the guards pushed me into the room and I had no choice but to walk or fall. I decided I'd better walk fast and try to get out without bringing too much attention to myself. I made it through the room and was led off in a different direction this time.

Eventually we came to a different elevator and got inside. This one was apparently at the top of its shaft and went another six floors down, making this place even bigger than I'd thought. At least 10 floors below ground! We exited on the third floor down from where we started and marched along a long hall until we came to double doors. I was once again ushered through, this time into what appeared to be a gym. Or, more precisely a weight room. There was a huge number of free weights and every sort of exercise machine I could imagine, and many that I couldn't have.

The room also had a number of people in it. There were a number of men, dressed like my guards and of similar physiques and hairiness standing around the room. Apparently supervising their captives who were working on the machines. Most of the people on the machines and weights were completely naked with only collars on. Although some of them seemed to have other sorts of paraphernalia attached to their bodies. It was hard to tell, because I wasn't given time to look.

I was quickly led over to one machine and told to position myself on it. It took me a second to figure out how. There were two thigh pads bent at angles to each other in a couple directions. Apparently I was to mount the machine something like getting on a horse, but with no horse. The pads were positioned so as to give me fairly comfortable support, but keep my legs spread wide and forward of my body. There was an opening between the pads where my penis and testicles hung free, and my asshole was also exposed. There was a back pad to rest my back against and devices to put my arms against. Actually, the upper part of the equipment was just like machines I'd used in school. Your forearms rested against vertical pads, with your arms spread upward but to either side, you then brought your arms together in front of you, pushing against weights.

I got myself positioned, and once there each guard produced leather cuffs for my wrists and ankles. These they quickly snapped in place, it looked liked they locked the same way as my collar. The cuffs had a fluffy wool lining to prevent chaffing and metal hoops on the outside, apparently for chains. Actually, I realized they were just like the ones the naked guy by the plane had been wearing.

After snapping the cuffs on, they secured my cuffs to the equipment, effectively locking me in position. The big man walked behind the machine where I couldn't see him, as another restraint was fastened around my lower rib cage to hold my torso in place on the machine. When the man with the mustache returned he had a small bag with him.

From the bag he pulled what looked like a cone shaped piece of leather with snaps and chains hanging from the bottom, wider, side. "What's that?" I asked, not thinking.

Slap. The big man's hand came across my face, bringing tears to my eyes. "Speak only when spoken to, slave." He reached down with his left hand and grabbed my testicles. I gasped as he yanked them down hard, away from my body. Quickly, efficiently, he snapped the leather cone around the top of my scrotum. It was like a little umbrella for my balls. The cone wasn't uncomfortable, it just felt odd. The discomfort came when he took three steel weights from the bag and hooked them on to the chains on the cone. I cried out in pain as the weights stretched my balls toward the floor.

"Sir, please don't. Please, take them off." I begged.

Slap. "You will never, ever, beg for mercy. You are free to beg for punishment, but never mercy. Understand slave." He twisted both my nipples hard, causing tears to come to my eyes. As I closed my eyes, trying to get rid of the tears, I felt him grab my penis. I tensed fearing more pain, but instead he began to stroke it. Bringing it to full attention. It felt good, but the pain from the weights on my balls was keeping me from enjoying it. I wasn't sure if I should moan in pain or pleasure. I closed my eyes again for a moment and then jerked them wide open as I felt an extremely sharp pinching in my right nipple, just as the stroking stopped

I looked down and found that the man had attached a plastic covered pair of alligator clips to my nipple. If I thought my balls hurt, it was nothing to the pain in my nipple. Before I could say anything, he fastened another clamp to my other nipple. I cried out in pain again. As I took a deep breath I noted that the two clamps were fastened together by a chain. Even as I gritted my teeth at the pain, the man put a steel weight on the chain between my nipples. "Hugggghhh, aaggh, please..."

The man looked at me. "Since you've been ordered not to beg for mercy, I assume your are begging for punishment. He swatted the weight, causing it to swing. I thought my nipples would rip off. The man smiled and snapped his fingers.

A young man about 18 or so, came over. He was dressed as I was, in only a collar and cuffs, but he was taller than I and while he had no hair on his head, he did have stubble around his groin, so they hadn't permanently removed his hair. The slave stood silently, eyes down cast, waiting for instructions.

"Here's the deal, boy." The man began. "You have to do some exercises. I want you to do 100 reps at three different weights to be set by your guards here." He looked me in the eye. It wasn't easy to pay attention over the pain. "You can take as long as you like, but you can't leave until you are finished, and the weights and clamps don't come off until you are done." He pushed the slave down to his knees, his face between my legs. His nose inches from my still slightly hard penis. "This slave is going to keep you hard. He's going to give you lots and lots of pleasure. He's very good at it, but he won't let you come until you're done. Any questions?"

I couldn't think of any, it was clear, if sadistic. All I could think of was getting the weights and clamps off. "Oh, and one more thing," he added, "each time they add weights to the machine for your next rep, they'll also add weights to your tit and ball toys. Have fun." He turned and walked away.

The guard motioned me to start. I did, it didn't seem too bad at first, although bringing my arms together made the nipple clamps tug on my nipples and the weight swing on the chain tugging viciously if I closed my arms too fast. I did a couple of reps and then was freaked out of my wits. The slave, who's face had been only a few inches from my penis had actually put his mouth around my penis!

I couldn't believe it. He wasn't just kissing it with his lips, which still would have been a shock, he was starting to suck on it! Like a popsicle! How gross! I thought, to put another guy's penis in your mouth. That's where the piss came out! and sperm! This was a blowjob like guys at school talked about, only this was a guy sucking on my dick! Even as the thought made my stomach turn slightly, I couldn't help but note how good it felt. His moist wet mouth enveloped my penis, his tongue gently caressing the underside. Teasing the edges of the head. I gasped in pleasure, momentarily forgetting the weights as his tongue slid into my piss slit. My penis was as rigid as it had ever been. I started getting close, when all of the sudden his rhythm changed. He started sucking and caressing in a different manner, and then nibbling on the stretch skin of my scrotum above the cone. Whatever he did, I stayed hard, but was no longer close to coming. It still felt good, but it was like being back at the beginning.

As this happened, my mind remembered the pain in my nipples and balls and I started doing reps to try to get the weights removed. It took me a while but I eventually managed to get the first hundred done. I probably could have done it quicker, even with the pain from the swinging weight on my nipples, but the slave sucking on my penis was proving a horribly evil distraction. About every seven or eight minutes, he'd have me so close to cumming that I'd have to stop, unable to concentrate on my exercises. Then all of the sudden, he'd somehow reset me with that trick of his.

As one guard changed the machine's weights, the other added a second weight to my nipples, spacing the other one out so that each nipples now held the weight that both had before, and he also added another weight to my balls. I wasn't sure if I was going to make this set. The pain was excruciating. I'd never suffered so much pain, so prolonged at any time in my life. If only that damned slave wasn't down there sucking on my penis. It was completely breaking any ability I had to shut out the pain.

I started on the reps. This set, of course, I had to go even slower. The weights swung worse on my nipples, and the machine weights were harder, and my arm and chest muscles were starting to get tired. That fucking slave was still down there too. Every seven minutes or so, I thought I was gonna come, and then I wouldn't. It was getting both tiring and frustrating. The second set took me at least twice as long as the first set.

By the start of the third, I was in total agony. The weights on my balls and nipples were increased by the same amount as before and reached new levels of unbearability. The machine was wearing me out, my arms and chest ached almost unbearably and it was taking me two or three times as long as the second set to do a single rep.

Somewhere along the line I lost count. My mind was frizzled between the agony in my arms and chest, my nipples and balls and what ever the hell that faggot was doing between my legs. I really don't know how, but somehow, the agony in my nipples and balls, chest and arms started to mingle with the pleasure in my penis. It became impossible to separate them. I couldn't tell if the feeling in my penis was the pleasure or the pain, nor likewise in my other tortured spots. It all got rather hazy as one rep led into another. Push, swing, slurp, twist, grimace. All I know is that I started to realize that the pain/pleasure in my penis was getting more intense, my eyes were closed at this point, but I felt like I was getting closer than ever before.

I climbed higher and higher, I was about to cum, the fucker had screwed up! I was cumming! Even as I thought this, all hell broke lose in my nipples. I screamed as agony ripped through them, and a shooting orgasm racked my penis, or was it the other way around? By that point I couldn't tell. All I knew was that the sensation that had been in my nipples was suddenly magnified a hundred times. Even as my toes curled in ecstasy from the cold sensations of the orgasm racing down my clenched leg muscles, my fists balled and arms came together trying get at my screaming nipples. As my balls almost seemed to suck themselves back into my body, I realized that the weights were gone from them.

I opened my eyes and allowed my arms to go back beside me, lowering the machine's weights. The guard who'd been adding the weights to my nipples and balls was staring at me without expression, the nipple clamps dangling free from his hand. My head shook from side to side, trying to clear the stinging pain in my nipples. I noted that the slave was still sucking lightly on my cock. Apparently trying to suck the last of my cum out of me. I was still so much in shock that it didn't cross my mind until much later that the slave had actually drank my cum.

"Aaagghh" I screamed again as the guard behind me brought his arms around the machine and massaged my chest and nipples. The agony was intense. Even so, I felt my penis start to harden again in the slave's mouth. The guard stopped massaging my chest and quickly began unbuckling me from the machine. As he did so the other guard pulled the slave off my penis, causing a slurping sound, and sent him away. The guard unchained me from the machine, but left the cuffs on me.

I was led back to my cell, where I once again fell down on my bed. It seemed only a moment, but I must have dozed off, before I heard the milkshake slide into my room. I'd had nothing to eat or drink all day, at least through my mouth, and tried to dive for the shake. Even so, I felt so weak from exhaustion I had to crawl from my bed to the shake.

After drinking the shake, I crawled back into bed. It was that point that I remembered the slave, and how he'd sucked on my penis and eaten my cum. Was that part of what it meant to be a sex slave? I shuddered. I didn't think there was anyway I could possibly put another guy's penis in my mouth. Let alone swallow his sperm. I rolled on my side in a fetal position, trying to smother the burning and itching that had returned to my penis within the last half hour, and finally fell asleep for the night.



As was becoming a habit, I was woken by the guards coming to drag me to get cleaned up. For some reason they always seemed to be catching me sleeping. I'd have to get my internal alarm clock to wake me up so they didn't take me by surprise. After the cleansing, I was once again led to the same examining room.

Nervously I watched for signs of the doctor as the technician gave me his normal round of shots. At one time these would have bothered me enough, since there were a lot. But the little jabs he gave me were nothing compared to the needle nightmare of the doctor.

In an attempt to take my mind off my fear of the doctor's arrival, I tried to count how long I'd been in the 'dungeon.' I thought it should be clear from the number of times I'd gotten injected, etc. But I wasn't so sure. While all of my days had seemed at the time to be excruciatingly long, and I was always exhausted at the end of them, objectively, I had to guess they'd been pretty short. True the day of the hair removal had been a good eight hours of hell, and I am sure I was awake for about 10 hours that day, but the other days had to have been a lot shorter. I was apparently sleeping a lot.

They were giving me a lot of drugs. Were they also giving me stuff to knock me out? Or maybe my milkshakes were coming more often than every twenty four hours and I just kept mistaking them for full days, because of my sleeping pattern. Without a watch, clock or the sun, I had no way for sure of knowing how long I'd been there. As I was thinking this the doctor walked in; ignoring me like I was a piece of furniture.

Eventually he wheeled the cart over. "Breakfast time," he said, holding up the enema bag. He quickly plugged me and started filling. This time however, while I was being filled, he started giving me my shots. Of course, he did have to wait to give me the shots around my asshole until he'd removed the bag. And he also waited to spear my balls. Once again I cried out as he hit me hard.

When he was done, I was once again left on the table. After about twenty minutes, the mustached man, who after yesterday, I was considering calling Satan, came into the room with the two guards. However this time he didn't order them to release me. Instead he walked up between my legs and gently started stroking the inside of my thighs. The two guards came up beside the table and one began playing lightly with my nipples, gently tracing the puffy edges, until they started to contract. The other started tracing his finger along my groin, and between my upraised thighs and scrotum, down between my legs.

They needed less than a minute to have my penis swollen and starting to drip. From my restrained position, I could just see the tip of my penis, oozing liquid. When they had me where they wanted me, they stopped, simultaneously. The wheels on the table were unlocked, and to my horror, I was wheeled out into the hallway. The big man leading the way, one guard pushing, the other beside the table, guiding it, and periodically stroking me in various places to keep me hard and oozing. Once again, when we entered the large lab, there were lots of people working.

This time, there was no way I could hope to escape attention, people turned to stare. Here I was, spread eagled on an examining table, my legs spread wide and raised in the stirrups, with my asshole, dick and balls on complete display. Not only could they see my spread cheeks, but also my embarrassingly hard penis, dripping precum. While I'd thought yesterday had been humiliating, this was infinitely worse. These bastards were finding incredible ways to take me to even greater heights of humiliation, pleasure and agony, than I'd ever imagined possible.

Eventually, I was wheeled, still dripping, into another room. This room had several large wooden cabinets around the outside, and in the center were a series of good sized mirrors suspended on flexible arms (like at a dentist's office) from the ceiling. I was wheeled into the center of the room. Someone turned down the outer lights, so it was almost like being in a spotlight under the bright lights above the center of the room.

The big man stood once again between my spread legs. "So boy, you ever actually seen an asshole?"

"No sir," I answered, not sure what he was getting at. He started adjusting the overhead mirrors.

"Well, since Dr. Monroe wants you to be something of an asshole specialist," he almost smiled, evilly, "there's no better place to start than home." With that, he swung a mirror into position between my legs and came around to my side.

In the tilted mirror, the area between my legs was completely exposed. I could see my hard penis, oozing clear precum, and my balls pulled up tightly in their sack. I noted how different and even more exposed they looked, now that what little pubic hair I'd had was gone. I was completely smooth in my crotch. Something I'd lived with for most of my life, but which looked strange now, after only a year or so with pubic hair. My balls sat snugly in their sack, which was always pretty tight, keeping the small but precious orbs hanging close to my penis.

The smooth skin below my sack stretched down between the crack of my ass, spread wide by the stirrups.

Down deep in the center of the valley, was a little puckered bud. I'd never actually seen my asshole before, nor any other. It was kind of odd to be seeing it like that. As I was looking at it, one guard began stroking my cheeks, and brushing my hair gently. The other started gently petting my nipples again. As they did this, the leader slid his big hand down over my penis and balls, pushing down, covering them up. In the mirror they were hidden from sight under his hand, as the tips of his fingers brushed the area at the base of my crack.

These guys certainly knew how to make me feel good. Just when I thought I was reaching new heights they'd find something else. Gently, the big man stroked deeper, brushing against the puckered bud of my hole. Soon he was stroking it with his middle finger, softly at first then with slightly more pressure. I closed my eyes for just a second.

Before I knew it, he'd stopped and stuck his middle finger in my mouth. The same finger that had just been touching my ass. I opened my eyes and would have protested something so gross, but the way his finger seemed to almost take possession of my mouth, invading every nook and cranny kept me silent. As I closed my eyes, strangely enjoying the sensation of his finger in my mouth, he pulled it out. I kept my eyes closed as he started once again stroking the little flower in my crack.

So smoothly I almost didn't notice, his wet finger slipped into my ass. When I realized it, I opened my eyes and stared in fascination as the finger seemed to be swallowed up to the middle knuckle by my asshole. It was really weird, and if I could get any harder, I did. Seeing his finger go gently in and out of that tight little puckered hole almost looked unnatural. And the fact that it didn't hurt, unlike when the doctor had been up there, was even more amazing. Of course I could feel he wasn't deep. Now that his finger was in there, touching where nothing had stopped to touch before, I realized there was actually another ring of muscles inside the puckered hole. Gently, he pulled his finger out.

As he did so, I suddenly relaxed, realizing I'd been tense, even though I'd sort of enjoyed it. Once again I wasn't paying attention, and before I knew it, his finger was back in my mouth. Trying to suck up more saliva. At first I was alarmed thinking that the finger had just been up my asshole, but then I relaxed remembering I'd already been thoroughly cleaned out this morning. So I let him massage my gums some more.

After pulling his finger out of my mouth again, it went directly into my hole again, this time he began gently knocking at the inner ring of muscles. This was the second time around, and between the gentle stroking of the two guards, I seemed to relax and then felt a tight sensation as his finger slipped in further. I looked in the mirror and saw his middle finger up to the knuckle in my ass. His 'fucking' finger was actually fucking me! It moved in and out, gently massaging that inner ring. As he pushed, I was surprised to feel inside me, what felt like yet another ring of muscle.

The sensation of his finger up my ass wasn't exactly pleasurable, but it wasn't unpleasant either. More unusual than anything else. As I lay there relaxing I suddenly felt a different sensation, like something trying to stretch my ass wide. Opening my eyes, I looked in the mirror to find that he had two fingers in the hole! How could that be, I thought I knew my asshole, and it wasn't that wide. But I could distinctly feel the two fingers inside the second ring, gently massaging and stretching it. I couldn't believe it didn't hurt.

"Ugggh" I grunted as something did hurt. I looked again to see that he had his first three fingers up my butt. It was starting to feel stretched to the limit. I couldn't believe it though. It hurt a bit, but not bad. My mind was temporarily diverted from him as suddenly the two guards were licking my armpits. That felt weird. It even looked weird in the mirror directly above me. Here were these two big burly men with huge muscles and hairy chests and backs, with their perfectly bald heads stuck in the smooth armpits of a pale hairless boy spread-eagled on a doctor's table.

As I was looking in the mirror I noticed a flash of reflected light and realized the big man had adjusted the angle of the mirror between my legs. It still showed between my legs but now more of top down view then before. This was because the man was standing between my legs. One hand adjusting the mirror while the other was still partially inside me. I suddenly got a sick feeling in my stomach as the hand adjusting the mirror came down to his waist, reached around behind his back and unsnapped his codpiece/underwear.

As he let his freed underwear drop to the floor. I got my first glimpse of what had caused the rather large bulge in them. Like the rest of him, his penis was huge. It was long and thick, easily twice the size of mine when erect, which it certainly was. His nuts were starting to pull up tight to his penis, the sack almost hard to see from their fur covering. His crotch and thighs were extremely hairy, in marked contrast to my own.

What scared me is that his penis was dripping precum, like my own. "Please....what are going to do sir?" I looked at him scared. I didn't really know for sure, but I had an idea.

"What do you think? I'm going to shove my cock up your hot little boy pussy. You've got one mighty tight cherry and it's just waiting for a man to break it. And I'm going to be the one to do it."

"No, please sir, no. I'll do anything, just don't do that." I was starting to tremble as he stepped closer.

"You're right, you will do anything I say, but you're also going to get fucked like the little cunt you are. I'm a man and you're nothing but a slavepussy. A cunt toy is all you'll ever be, so you'd better start getting used to it fast." His hand pulled out of my ass. Reaching down into a drawer in the table he pulled out some sort of grease and began rubbing it over his cock. "I'm about to show you what a man does to a woman. And to slavepussies like yourself." I was trying to shake my immobilized head, I was terrified.

Suddenly my eyes went wide as the two guards started sucking on my nipples. One guard per nipple. Sucking, licking, teasing and biting. It was such a strange new sensation that it distracted me just long enough for the big man to enter me.

"Yiiiiiiieeeee" I yelled, even though he'd been massaging my hole, it still hurt as he rammed the huge piece of meat even further in than the fingers. I looked in the mirror, stunned as his dick slid smoothly into my tight little hole. The little bud miraculously expanding to swallow his cock. In it went, and then he pulled back. Out it came, all but the head, then back in. I moaned again in pain. It hurt, hurt pretty bad. Not as bad as some of the other things I'd experienced here, but still bad. In and out he drove, harder and faster. His heavy cum filled balls bouncing against my ass cheeks. His hairy groin pounding into my smooth balls. His muscular forearms were resting on my knees, his dark hairy skin in marked contrast to my pale hairless legs.

It didn't feel good, not at all. But the rhythm and something about the act itself kept me hard, along with the sucking on my nipples by the two guards, one of which had begun to jack me off. The rhythmic thumping of his dick, in and out of my ass seemed to go on and on, I was almost hypnotized by the sight of the long tube sliding in and out of my hole. Suddenly, he arched his back, and I felt a warm sensation in my bowels. He was coming, coming in my ass! Suddenly I was spurting too. The thought of this big hairy man fucking me in the ass like a woman and then coming, filling me with his seed, seemed to trigger something, and I burst, spewing my juice all over my chest.

Slowly he pulled his relaxing cock out of my hole. The guards stood up and away from the table as he came around beside me. Slowly, almost nonchalantly he put his index on my stomach in a puddle of my cum. He softly drew the puddle up, drawing on my chest with the sticky substance. He picked his finger up and scooped a big puddle of cum from my belly button, bringing it toward my face. I realized what he was going to do and tried to turn my head, but it was firmly in place. I locked my jaw, but his other hand hit me deftly in the diaphragm, causing me to gasp, allowing his cum soaked finger to enter my mouth. "Lick it clean." He ordered.

I tried to avoid the sticky finger in my mouth, but he rubbed it against my tongue and throat, causing me to gag. I had no choice but to try and swallow, to try and get the stuff off my tongue. Actually, it didn't taste that bad. Not like I'd expected. Actually it didn't taste like much of anything; a bit salty, maybe slightly sweet, but otherwise no real taste. Nonetheless, I still felt a bit queasy about eating my own cum. I kept thinking of the wriggling little sperm sliding down my throat into my belly. Discomfort or not, that didn't keep him from wiping up all the cum on my body and making me eat it, finger by finger.

When he was done, the guards unfastened me from the table. As they did so and I brought my arms down, I groaned because of the beginning stiffness in my arm and chest muscles. All the exercise I'd done yesterday was starting to set in. The big man led me from the room, rather than returning to my cell as I half expected, I was taken on another elevator ride and down a few more hallways. By this point I was completely lost and turned around. Eventually we made it to a large mirrored room with mats and about 20 naked and collared slaves. All were busy following the instructions of a leather harnessed man, with a crew cut, who was leading them in exercises. My main jailor led me to a mat and quietly ordered me to follow the instructor's commands and do the exercises. He then told me he'd return when I was done.

The exercises consisted of all the traditional aerobic and "core" exercises you have to do in school, or the military. They just seemed to go on forever. The other odd thing was doing them in the nude. The jumping ones felt especially odd, with my dick and balls bouncing around. While I didn't turn my head much, I did note that most of the other slaves had the same bouncing problem. The other slightly surprising thing was that most were rock hard.

Doing exercises with twenty naked aroused young men was not something I'd done before, but for some reason, I found it much more exciting than my old gym class. Before long, I found myself getting hard too, like most of the others. I was also bothered by the fact that I found the guy in front of me was particularly fascinating. Not that there was anything unusual about him, for this place. He was naked and collared, but he had large, low hanging balls that swayed heavily between his spread legs, almost thumping against his asshole on some exercises. It was the second asshole I'd ever seen, and in a space of hours. Like I said, for some odd reason, my attention kept going back to the guy and his swaying balls and ass. I really was wondering what was getting into me.

If nothing else, the exercises relieved the stiffness that had been building in my chest and arm muscles. I don't know how long the exercises went on, but by the number of reps and the number of exercises, it must have been about two hours. When it was over, I was exhausted, and thirsty. My jailor came back in just as the instructor, announced we were finished. Again, I expected, and was looking forward to, going back to my room. However, once again I was surprised. My jailor indicated that I should follow the line of other slaves into an adjacent room.

In this large room were three rows of what looked like dog dishes. There were seven dishes in each row, thus one dish per slave. Not knowing what else to do, I just followed the example of the others and lined up in front of the last dish (since I was last in line) and stood at something like attention. Feet spread to shoulder width, with my wrists clasped in my opposite hand behind my back with my head and shoulders back. While standing like this, three of the guards who had been in this room before my arrival began walking down the aisles, one per aisle, each carrying a wooden paddle. At each slave, he would stop and inspect the slave. First apparently to make sure the slave had worked up a sweat, and then, I guess to make sure he was hard. If a slave was starting to look soft, the guard would spank him on the rear until he got hard.

Now, how spanking a guy on the butt got him hard was beyond me. It didn't sound like something that would make me hard. I was just glad that when the guard got to me I was still ramrod stiff. After all the inspections were finished, one of the guards barked, "Kneel," and each of us got down on our knees. Following the others I stayed on my knees, with my back straight and wrists clasped, until the guard yelled, "Drink." At this, each slave bent over the dish, which was filled with water, keeping their arms behind them and began to lap up water like a dog.

If I hadn't been so tired and thirsty, and having such a damn difficult time getting any water in my mouth, I might almost have found the sight of twenty one naked, aroused men, with arms behind their backs, lapping up water funny. As it was, I was just too concerned about getting enough to drink before we were ordered to quit. Eventually, the order to quit came, and while I hadn't had enough, I had at least got enough to take the edge off.

After we were ordered to stand, individual guards came to take slaves away. Mine came for me, and I was led, not to my quarters, but to an examining room much like the very first one I'd been in. After waiting in the room for a bit, my technician came in. At least that's how I was beginning to think of him, while I'd seen more technicians dressed like him, it was always the same one who attended me. Apparently they were assigned slaves, like doctors had patients. Or like biology students had rats, I suddenly thought, uncomfortably. He didn't say much, just got out some blood drawing equipment and sucked a few vials of blood out of my arm. As a kid, I'd hated having to take blood tests at the doctor's office, but after all the injections and stuff I'd gotten here, this little blood letting was nothing. When he finished, my guards came back in, and finally escorted me to my cell.





After resting for a bit, my shake was slid through the little door. Still being thirsty, I slurped it down with a passion. I was beginning to wonder though, how long could I survive on chocolate shakes and lapping up water? I was hungry most of the time, although the shakes were surprisingly filling. However, while hungry, I didn't seem to be experiencing any other of the side effects of starvation, like weakness. Well, I was actually feeling weak, but that was more from muscle exertion than hunger.

All I could guess was that they wanted to keep me hungry so that I'd eat and drink whatever they gave me, even if I knew it had drugs in it. Actually these drugs had me real concerned. I didn't have any clue what they were doing to me. Some of what they'd said made some sense, but mostly it had been scientific babble to me. I hadn't liked the sounds of what they'd said. However, aside from this periodic burning and itching sensation in my penis, I didn't seem to be experiencing any reaction to the drugs. I wasn't dizzy, or stoned, or drunk or anything I'd ever heard of drugs doing to people.

As I lay there thinking about the drugs, I was startled by my door opening. I sat up on the bed to find my jailor and the two guards entering my room. It couldn't be morning yet! I knew I hadn't fallen asleep. The big man smiled at my confusion. "Is my little pussyslave puzzled by his master's presence?" He didn't give me time to reply, only gestured for one of the guards to remove the round lid from the chair in my room. That guard then replaced the full round lid with a half lid. So that there was only a half circular opening in the front of the seat. "Sit," my master, as he called himself, ordered.

Not knowing what was going on, I did. As I sat down, I realized the hole was positioned, so that with my back straight up in the chair, my butt rested on the seat/lid and when my legs were spread as much as the arms would allow, the hole was below my penis and balls. The guards began using straps they'd brought with them to strap my legs to the outer posts of the chair and my forearms to the chair arms. At last I knew what the rings and hooks in the chair had been for. My head was allowed free movement, but a strap was put across my shoulders and upper arms to immobilize my body.

The reason for the hole became quickly apparent, as the big man pulled the little cone and weights from his bag. I almost started to say "No, please..." but then remembered his order not to beg for mercy. As I watched, unable to do anything, he reached under the chair and up through the hole to grab my balls from between my legs. Yanking them down hard, I grunted in pain, since I couldn't move to ease the tension. He fastened the cone around the top of my balls and put only two weights on. Not as many as he'd done the other day, yet.

Unconsciously, my arms wriggled in their restraints as I tried to protect my nipples from the clamps that I knew had to be coming. The big man narrowed his eyes, as if reading my mind and enjoying it. He nodded to the two guards, who went out into the hall, and I heard them wheeling something in. "Sorry, boy. No tit clamps for you tonight. But if you beg real pretty like, I may just use them tomorrow night." He smiled nastily as he reached down and tweaked my puffy right nipple, causing it to contract slightly.

"No, tonight is something new for you." He said as he turned to the door, where the two guards were rolling in what looked like a large shop vacuum cleaner on wheels, one guard pushing it, while the other strung the cord through the smaller door in my cell door. He wheeled it up beside me and stopped, waiting for the other guard to bring the attachments.

They were the strangest attachments for a vacuum I'd ever seen. There was a long hose, but the hose had a splitter on it, splitting it into two slightly smaller hoses. These hoses each had a plastic attachment on them. The attachments were short pipes that looked like they had teeth on them. Or maybe more like the top of a castle turret.

The big man said nothing but simply switched the vacuum on. It wasn't particularly loud, but even so, it had a deep throated sound, like it had a big motor. Saying nothing the big man took one of the crenellated hoses and placed it over my right nipple. The suction from the vacuum made the hose stick firmly over my nipple. That was when I realized the purpose of the teeth on the end of the hose. They kept the full hose from sucking right down on my skin, instead there were spaces around the edges where air could get in so the vacuum wouldn't over heat, as it would if he'd stuck the hose directly on my skin. He then attached the second one. The sensation wasn't particularly unpleasant, just a bit odd. The pain in my balls was much more distracting.

"Good night," he said as he and the two guards left my cell, closing the door behind them. They were leaving me like this for the night! I couldn't sleep like this. Not with my balls aching and this damn vacuum cleaner trying to give me a hickey. I sat there vainly trying to get free, but finally gave up.

After a little while I began to notice the other benefit/bane of the teeth on the hoses. The air rushing through them felt cold from the suction, and the air blowing over my nipples was becoming slightly painful. After even longer, the pain in my nipples began to come about even with the pain in my balls. I finally just shut my eyes and tried to block out the pain. I didn't think I was successful, but I did fall asleep.

The next thing I knew, the guards were freeing me from the chair, the vacuum cleaner off. I was surprised as they helped me stand to find my penis at attention. It had apparently gotten hard on its own while I was sleeping. The guards led me to my cot, where I laid down and quickly fell back to sleep.

Chapter 6

As I might have expected, the morning came earlier than I thought it should have. I was still very groggy as the guards led me down to my cleaning. They turned the water colder this morning and I had no trouble waking up under the chilly blast. As was becoming routine, I was led to the stirrup table room where the table had been returned.

Strapped in, I was unsurprised when the technician came in to give me his series of shots, and then the doctor came in and gave me his exceedingly painful shots, but no enema. This time I managed to only whimper when he skewered my testicles.

After the shots, he brought the enema bag over, and at first I thought it was my imagination, but I thought the bag looked at least twice as full. As I was being filled, I soon realized it hadn't been my imagination, I was getting a bigger 'meal.'

The doctor had the technician hold and gently squeeze the bag as he walked over and began looking at some charts. At least it sounded like that was what he was doing. I couldn't see much with my head strapped down. I heard the door open and heard Monroe say, "Good morning Lowry. How are you this morning?"

"Fine," the doctor replied, "just going over the test results from yesterday's blood test.

"How are they?" Monroe asked as he walked up beside the table to look down at me. He wore a black leather vest, the first I'd seen him not in a suit. The neck of the vest exposed the thick slabs of muscle on his chest, sharply defined, but covered with a forest of hair.

"Good, very good. He's reacting exactly as he should. All the blood work comes back at the expected levels." The doctor put down the chart and walked up to inspect the technician's job of feeding me. "We're just giving him breakfast now. Since everything was going well, I decided to up the nutrient and protein levels to give him the food for his training."

"Good, I hear from Simon that he's been fairly well behaved during his training as well." Monroe reached up and began to softly stroke the hair on my head. "Simon says he's a natural born slave. Just as I thought when I first met him." The way they were talking about me as if I wasn't there was disconcerting. What was this about a natural born slave? As if I'd had any choice in how I'd been behaving? How else would I have responded? I didn't like the insinuation.

"Hair's a bit too stiff though. I think we should use the ROG-39 and the RiboProtein bath on his scalp." Monroe told the doctor.

"Hmm, modify the DNA pattern of the hair follicles?" the doctor shrugged. "Sure, give me the specifics of what you want and we'll work it up." Monroe trailed his hand down to flick his thumb over my nipples. Nipples which felt particularly raw after last night's ordeal. Raw or not though, I felt my penis starting to perk up. Within a few minutes I could just see the tip of it, if I stared down towards my crotch. This head band was probably the most annoying restraint.

"Bad news for you boy." Monroe said, startling me by actually talking to me rather than around me. My eyes locked on his.

"Seems my new ward Jason never made the switch to my plane in Hawaii." Monroe shrugged, feigning sadness. "My pilot waited for a long time, but Jason, the son of my recently deceased, best friend in the whole world, never showed up. Eventually my pilot notified me and the police and then flew back to my island to pick me up. Arriving in Hawaii, I went directly to the police and helped them start a search." I was looking at him puzzled, what was he talking about? Was he trying to make the authorities think I wasn't here? Wouldn't his island be the first place they looked? "I got a call this morning. Seems they found the remains of a charred and decomposed body with dental records matching Jason's. Looks like some sort of cultists kidnapped him. They often do that, snatch young people traveling to strange places by themselves. Apparently they're easy to nab, and it takes people too long to realize they're gone. I have to go to Oahu to see the body and make funeral arrangements tonight."

"You're telling me, people think I'm dead?"

"No, I'm telling you that people know Jason Daniels is dead. There is indisputable forensic evidence confirming that the body is his, both dental and DNA patterns in the hair are conclusive. I suspect they'll even catch a few of the culprits, given time. Of course with these cults it's always hard to corner the ones really responsible."

"Jason is dead, and I will grieve for him, even as I grieved for his father. I'm telling you this because you are here. However, you are just boy. You may have once mistakenly thought yourself to be Jason Daniels, but instead you were always just a slave pretending to be Jason Daniels. Jason Daniels would have grown up to be a fine young man. That is something you will never be. This is simply a fact, you are a slave, the people I've had examine you all agree, you were genetically predisposed and destined to be a slave, even if you didn't consciously recognize it. Now we're just going to help your true self to emerge from where it's been hiding. For years you pretended to be a human child, but in reality, you are nothing but a walking, talking, piece of meat; a toy to do with whatever I damn well please." He twisted my nipple, making me wince.

These people were all insane! First they talk about me as if I wasn't there, and then they tell me the person who I thought I was is dead; that I'm just some slave who'd been pretending to be me, and that they were going to help me be myself. This just didn't make sense? Were they trying to play some mind games with me. It wouldn't work, but how could I convince them of that.

With that he turned and walked out. Shortly thereafter, the doctor finished filling me. As he pulled the enema hose out of my ass,the big man walked in. "Ahh, Master Simon, just in time." At last! I finally had a name for this man. "I've fed the boy a lot this morning, I'm afraid some of it may run out, do you have anything to plug the hole?" I suddenly paled at the thought that Master Simon did have something to plug my hole, and it was in his leather underwear.

"Certainly." He walked up between my legs where I could see him. He just stared me in the eyes, almost reading my thoughts, I felt. I felt his hand smearing something slightly cold and moist around my asshole. I tensed, expecting him to fuck me. But unless he'd already taken his leather jock thing off, he was not making any move to remove it.

Suddenly I felt something jabbing itself in my asshole. I grunted in pain as it stretched my hole wide, and then suddenly it was in, and my ass muscles were able to close around a narrower section of whatever he had in my hole. It felt really weird. I could feel the thing he'd shoved in my hole, but apparently the part physically up my ass was wider than the neck that my sphincter muscles were closing around. That part was about two fingers wide, judging from what I remembered yesterday.

"Whatever you do," he suddenly told me, "don't let this thing come out. The part inside you is wide enough that the natural expelling reaction of your ass can't shove it out automatically, but if you really push you could shit it out. Don't do that. If you do, you will be punished." I believed him.

The guards then came in and released me. Master Simon led me down the hallway. Walking with this thing in my butt was awkward. I had to sort of walk with my legs and ass spread wide, bow legged. I am sure I looked odd, but at least the insertion had caused me to lose my erection. So when we went through the lab, I didn't need to feel embarrassed about that. Even so, it was quite obvious I had something up my butt, by how I walked, and that was embarrassing.

This morning, like two mornings ago, I was led to the room with the weight machines. Today, I was strapped into a different machine for working my thighs and buttocks; which was highly awkward given what was in my butt. I had to push against these weights, flexing my thighs and butt muscles, every time I did so, the object in my ass shoved itself deeper in, and then as I relaxed, it too came back to its starting point. In a way, it was like fucking myself with the thing with every rep. It wasn't quite the same because the thing didn't actually come out, but the pressure it put on my bowels was the same.

After three sets of 100 reps at different weights, my legs were completely exhausted. I was unstrapped from the machine, and led to a doggie bowl where I was required to lap up water like the previous day. After that, I was allowed to rest in a chair for a few minutes.

The guards then came and led me to the upper body machine of the other day. I groaned out loud at the thought of repeating it. They helped me up on the machine and strapped me in. Master Simon brought the same slave over as the day before and sat him down between my legs. "Well, boy. You know the drill, I think." He reached into his bag and brought out the cone and weights for my balls. He started with the same two weights as I'd worn most of last night. It hurt, but I was becoming used to that pain. The nipple clamps and weights though, they caused tears to come to my eyes as the weights dragged on my nipples, still sore from the vacuum. Master Simon walked off.

I started my reps, and sure enough, the slave started sucking on my penis. It didn't take him long to have me hard. The same hell as two days ago started over again. I mentally groaned, praying I'd survive it. I was about halfway through the first set when suddenly, I felt a tugging at my asshole. I looked down. The slave, while still sucking on my penis, had his hand up my crack and was tugging on the thing stuck up my ass.

I could barely keep up my rhythm. Not only did his licking tongue drive my dick into a frenzy, but his tugging felt like I was on the verge of taking a shit. He began pulling it partway out and then back in. It was like the turd that wouldn't leave. By halfway through my second set, my sphincter muscles felt like they were confused. They were almost twitching around the thing as he pulled and pushed it. Unable to figure out if they should be open or shut.

This time, I was barely into the third set when my mind went numb. It just overloaded. The pain in my balls, which was aggravated by the slave bumping the weights as he pistoned me with the thing in my ass, the pain in my nipples, the pleasure in penis, the searing exhaustion of my arm and chest muscles and the downright tiring exercise of my sphincter muscles all blended into a haze of agony and ecstasy. I think I felt tears running down my cheeks as I felt the slave picking up energy in his sucking as I neared the end of the third set.

FUCK!!!!!! there it was. The thing in my ass was yanked out, leaving my sphincter muscles twitching, the ball weights gone, my balls retreating into me, my nipples screaming in agony and my cock surging in the slave's moist wet mouth as he sucked on it like he was the vacuum cleaner from last night. All of it at once. My arms and legs trembled, my rapidly deflating penis basking under the slave's tongue, my ass muscles twitching and shaking. I think I blacked out.

The next thing I knew, the guards were helping me to my room. I barely made it to my cot before I was out like a light. When I woke, my cell was dark. I rolled out of my cot to the floor and searched for my shake on my hands and knees until I found it. Greedily I sucked it down and then crawled back into bed. My penis was burning again and my asshole felt like it had been wedged open by that thing. If I hadn't felt so tired, I'd have been concerned that the shake might run right out what felt like my open asshole.





The next day began exactly the same as the previous several. This time I was once again given the extra large enema bag for breakfast. Afterwards the technician and the guards led me down the hall to another room where I was seated in what looked like a hair dresser's chair. The technician put on rubber gloves, leaned my chair back putting my head in a beautician's sink and began washing my hair in warm water.

I wasn't sure why he was wearing gloves until he started rubbing this stuff from a squeeze bottle into my hair and scalp. To say it tingled was an understatement. When he took the scalp brush and began scrubbing my head and practically forcing the stuff into my head, it stung. It almost felt like he was rubbing acid into my head! I squirmed in the seat so much that the guards came and strapped my cuffs to the chair with short leather straps.

Eventually he was finished and I was just glad he hadn't gotten any in my eyes. That would have been wicked. He rinsed my hair and dried it with a towel. My guards unstrapped me, and I was led to the aerobics room where the twenty other slaves were just arriving.

Apparently I'd missed about a half hour worth of exercises the other day, because there were several new ones early on, and after that it was pretty much the same as before. We were lined up in the same order as before, and once again I got a strange thrill from watching the guy with the low hanging balls in front of me.

After I'd been allowed to drink, I was taken back to my cell where I waited and waited for my shake to come. Just when I thought they'd forgotten me, the main door opened and in walked Master Simon. I looked behind him for the guards but saw none. He shut the door behind him, saying nothing. He could see I was looking for something, actually it was my shake, I was thirsty and starved.

"Looking for something boy?"

"Uhmm, just my dinner sir."

"I've got your dinner for you boy." I was sitting on my cot. I didn't know what he meant, he obviously wasn't carrying anything. He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me off my cot onto my knees in front of him. He put both of his hands on my shoulders and began massaging them gently.

"My dinner sir?" I asked stupidly.

"In good time boy, in good time." My eyes were on level with the top of his black leather jockstrap. As he kneaded my shoulder muscles, my eyes couldn't help but trace the path of hairs sweeping off his broad and powerful chest, down his heavily muscled stomach, swirling around his navel and then disappearing into his leather shorts. The pattern was almost hypnotic. I don't know why.

He let go of one shoulder and reached behind him to unfasten his leather underpants. As it dropped to the ground my eyes were finally able to follow the path of hair down into his groin. I'd never seen so much pubic hair in my life. It was like a forest, covering his entire groin with thick wiry hairs. I subconsciously rubbed at my own silk smooth groin, noting the difference.

My breath caught in fear, suddenly realizing what was about to happen. In the center of the thick jungle of hair was a mighty pillar rising rigid from the forest. His penis was big, bigger than I remembered, and it was only an inch from my nose. Suddenly I remembered the slave between my legs and knew what Master Simon wanted.

"No, no" I softly whined, shaking my head from side to side gently. His strong, fur covered hands rested on my shoulders, thumbs pressing against my jaw, forcing me to look straight ahead and stair into that mammoth tube of flesh. I could see the thin veins pulsing on the side of his cock. This was the closest I'd ever seen a man's cock. I admit, it was rather fascinating. Perhaps most threatening however, was the thick head, pulsing and angry purplish-red. My eyes stared right down the piss slit. It was pulled back tight due to the swelling in the head, and I noted that the piss slit was actually split, there were two little holes in it. Something I'd never noted about my own.

Even as I watched, a small amount of liquid began to ooze out of one of the holes, pooling in the slit. I tried to pull back, but his strong hands began forcing my head closer, upwards so my mouth was level with his prick. He applied some sort of pressure to the back of my jaw and I felt it open. NO! My mind shouted, I couldn't stick that thing in my mouth. Penises were dirty!

It was out of my hands though, he was too strong. Slowly my lips edged ever closer until they were touching the swollen head. Inward it popped. Feeling like a giant strawberry. Accidentally my tongue touched the piss slit and I felt the moist stickiness of his precum. My stomach seemed to lurch. My lips felt dry, I wanted to wet them, but in trying to do so, my tongue swept over and around the head. Master Simon grunted approval.

"Now suck boy. Pretend it's a straw and you want to suck it into your mouth." I tried to shake my head, but he held me steady. Slowly applying painful pressure to my neck muscles until I complied. I sucked on it like it was a straw. He slid his dick further into my mouth, brushing my teeth. "Open wider, if I feel teeth, you'll feel my hand on your backside." I complied, but it was hard to get my mouth open that wide. He shoved it in about halfway down my mouth.

"Good. Now, you remember some of the things that slave did to you. I want you to repeat what you remember on me." I didn't want to, but it was getting to be a moot point, so I tried to comply. I ran my tongue around the bottom and sides of his dick. It was odd, feeling the contours of his penis with my tongue. I could feel the veins throbbing in the hard cock, the soft tube on the bottom, spongy, yet resilient.

The other thing I noted was a rather pungent smell from his groin. It was musky, but not altogether pleasant. In some ways it gave a flavor to his penis, if that were possible. I tried to emulate the slave, sliding my tongue over his penis and the head. In order to really do it, I had to move my head back and forth so I could get my tongue on all parts of his dick; occasionally ramming it up against the inside of my cheek so my tongue could reach the topside of his dick.

I don't know if I was doing good or bad, but he suddenly grabbed my head with both hands and straightened my mouth out on his dick. Before I knew it, he shoved his thick tube to the back of my throat, causing me to gag. He didn't care though, he pulled back and then thrust again, and again, and again. Then he stood still and began moving my head back and forth on his dick. All the way back, the backside of his crown brushed my lips, all the way in and I was gagging as his dick pushed against the back of my throat. My nose buried in his pubic hair. Even so, I could tell his penis was too long for my mouth, because at its farthest back there was still about a half an inch to an inch not in my mouth.

He thrust my head back and forth, using it like it was some sort of moist masturbation toy. Ram Ram At first it was hard to breath but then I figured out how to breath between strokes. "Oh yeah," he moaned. "I've turned your mouth into a tight little pussy. I'm fuckin your face like I fucked the pussy between your legs.

"Eat my dick," he commanded savagely. My hand brushed against my own dick to find it hard and dripping. I grasped it in my hand, the tip just above my knuckle. I began jacking off as he rammed my head on his dick.

Suddenly, he stopped in midstroke. It felt like his cock's head was expanding to fill my mouth. I felt the soft tube spasm and then spasm again. Suddenly the back of my mouth and throat were full of liquid. "Eat it. Eat my cum. Feel my seed take root in your body." He shoved his dick in further. "If any of it escapes your mouth, I'll strap you into the chair and put twelve weights on your balls.

Frightened I began to swallow. I didn't like the thought of eating his cum, but I didn't want twelve weights on my balls. "That's it. Swallow, lick the cum off my dick. I want you to suck." I did. "Suck the sperm out of my dick."

My stomach recoiled slightly. I was swallowing living things, hundreds of thousands of little squiggling things sliding down my throat into my stomach. The muscles between my legs twitched, suddenly I was cumming on the floor. I'd forgot I'd been jacking my self off until I came.

Slowly, Master Simon pulled his penis from my mouth, making sure I'd gotten every last drop. As he stepped back, he saw the mess I'd made on the floor. His eyes got hard. Slap. He hit me across the face with the back of his hand. Slap. He hit me again.

"Did I say you could come?" I raised my hand to my stinging cheek, tears coming to my eyes. "Did I?"

"No sir." I admitted.

"You will never come unless given permission, do you understand that? You won't jack yourself off with my express permission. If I ever see you touch yourself without permission, not only will I whip your butt, but I'll double any weights I put on your body for the next week. Do you understand?" I nodded.

Slap. "Speak up! When I ask you a question, I expect an answer. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," I said meekly.

"Fine, if I ever even think you've been jacking off when I'm not around, I'll punish you as well. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir."

"Good, now clean up your mess." I looked around for something to wipe it up with. My cot had only a thin mattress, no sheets or blankets. Master Simon, sighed disgustedly. "With your tongue boy. Lick it up!"

My tongue? He wanted to me to lick my own cum off the floor? My shoulders sagged, I guessed it couldn't be that much worse than licking it off another man's dick. Slowly I bent to the floor and began licking up my spilled cum. Swallowing each little puddle I licked up, until there was no more.

Master Simon nodded. "Good, remember boy, cum has lots of protein and essential nutrients, its actually even better for you than that shake you've been drinking. I hope you enjoyed your dinner tonight. It was my special treat for you doing so good at training."

Treat? Being forced to suck another man's penis and swallow his cum was a treat? He was staring at me. I guess he was expecting acknowledgment. "Thank you sir." I said quietly. I didn't exactly feel thankful, but I didn't want to get slapped either. He nodded his head and turned and left.

After he did so, I crawled back onto my cot. I was still hungry, and thirsty, but I guess that was my dinner. My penis was burning again, and my chest, arms and legs were all aching from the workouts they'd been getting. All in all I wasn't a happy camper.

But, despite this, for some reason, as I lay there falling asleep, one image kept running through my mind. The image was of the path of hair curling down Master Simon's chest and stomach, melding into the thick patch of pubic hair surrounding his huge cock. It's piss slit staring at me like a mesmerizing eye as I fell asleep.


Chapter 7

Apparently they were beginning to settle me into a pattern of sorts. Every morning I was cleaned inside and out, and then fed breakfast up my ass. Both the technician, whose name I eventually learned was Peter, and the doctor would give me their rounds of shots, and then every other day I'd get my hair shampooed.

On the first day of the pattern, I'd be made to work out on the weights. It was always some small variation on the upper body machine with the slave sucking my penis while weights were applied to my nipples and testicles. Thigh and buttock work outs with a variety of different shaped objects up my butt, always either followed or preceded the upper body workout. Each week that went by saw the increase in the amount of weights I had to strain against, and the amount of weight added to my balls and nipples. Each late afternoon, whichever the day of the routine, I was taken to a large pool to swim laps for an hour.

I wasn't the best swimmer in the world, but Master Simon had an instructor to teach me. The instructor was another slave. But a very unusual one. Like most slaves he had no name that I ever heard, I just referred to him as Dolphin. The reason I did was that he was certainly the most unusual slave I'd seen. He was about my height, but even more hairless, he had no hair on his head or eyebrows, nor did he seem to have eye lashes. He was fairly muscular, but also very sleek, with smooth muscles. The few times I touched him, I was surprised by the texture of his skin which was almost like rubber, and very moist, something like a dolphin I had once petted at a marina; hence the name.

This however wasn't the oddest about him. Additionally he had very small ears, set very close to his head and an almost child like penis and balls. They were very small organs, hanging close to his body and. it seemed to me, lower between the legs than usual. It was almost like he was naturally streamlined. The final surprise, I discovered, was when staring down at his feet in shame for failing to finish all my laps on time, I noted that his feet were webbed! On closer inspection I noted that his fingers also had skin between them. This slave was almost part fish!

I was momentarily at a loss when I saw this. Was this what Monroe meant by specially modified slaves? Did he have something similar in mind for me? I shuddered and got a cold sensation in my stomach. I tried to put it out of my mind, but every time I saw Dolphin, I got a bit nervous. Nonetheless, he taught me quite a lot about how to swim, and how to hold my breath for long periods. I was never able to hold my breath as long as Dolphin, who it seemed, could hold his breath for an unreasonably long period of time. At least ten minutes. I don't know how that was possible.

On the second day of the pattern, I'd do aerobics and stretching exercises with the other slaves. Often this was followed by running 10 laps around a regulation size track in one of the gyms. The exercises were the only time I got to see other slaves.

I never got to actually speak with any, aside from Dolphin who only spoke to give instructions, nor see them up close, but I could see they came in a wide variety of shapes and sizes. Some were tall, some short. Some heavily muscled, some not. All though, were in good physical shape. Some of them had normal amounts of body hair, others had none. Of those with none, some I decided were only shaved, while a few of us had been made permanently hairless. About a third were bald. While there were a number of hairless or nearly hairless slaves there were also a number that seemed to me to be exceptionally hairy. Meaning at least as much as the guards, if not more so. One guy I passed on the track one day, looked almost like a gorilla. He had wiry hair all over his chest, arms, legs, shoulders, back, and butt. So covered, I almost couldn't see his skin underneath. He was also pretty well built as far as I could tell from a quick look.

The third day usually started off with some combination of the others. Often I'd do some running, or join the slaves exercising, and then usually do some of the other weight machines that worked other parts of my body. None of it for as long a session as the other two days. It was always the third night when I was strapped to my chair and the vacuum cleaner and ball weights attached. I eventually figured out that this procedure only lasted about an hour before the released me.

Normally I got my shake every evening. Occasionally though, if he was especially pleased with my performance, Master Simon would stop by and make me suck his penis for dinner instead. About once or twice a week, I was also taken to the room with mirrors where the guards and Master Simon would play with my nipples and stroke my balls and anus, and then Master Simon would fuck me. While it never actually felt good, and I didn't like it. I at least got to the point where it didn't hurt. When he fucked me, and when the slave sucked me were the only times I was allowed to cum.

Generally every night my penis would burn and or itch. I thought about asking the doctor about it, but I kept remembering the 'Only spoke when spoken to' rule. My muscles ached for the first week and a half, but after that they didn't bother me unless I really over did it. Generally, I just came away from the weight machines feeling like my muscles were slightly swollen. I think it is what body builders called being 'pumped.'

By the end of what I guessed to be my second week, not only was my penis burning slightly at night, but I was experiencing an odd tingling sensation in my nipples, balls and around my asshole almost all the time. By the third week the tingling was almost an itching.

On what was roughly speaking, my 30th day in 'training,' I was strapped down as usual to the stirrup table and the doctor had just finished up. The shots were almost becoming routine. I heard the door open and Monroe say "Good Morning doctor." It was the first time I'd been in Monroe's presence since he'd told be about Jason's death.

"How is it doing?"

"Oh fine, we continue to take the blood tests and they're all perfect. Also some of the physical alterations are starting to become apparent." What were they talking about?

Monroe walked up beside me. He looked down at me, slightly moving his head from side to side as if studying me up and down. "Very good," Monroe stated. He reached down to stroke my balls, which were still tender from the shots.

I moaned slightly as he rolled them back and forth in their sack. It somewhat amazed me that even after all the torture with the weights, they could still feel such pleasure. Almost more. I felt him lift them up in their sack, since I couldn't move my head to watch. I felt my rock hard penis start to drip. He dropped them and I felt them fall back and bounce against the crack of my ass between my legs. He pushed down on them rolling first one then the other up and down over my thighs and the flesh of my buttocks between my legs. Rolling them like golf balls up and then down into the start of the valley.

It felt incredibly good. I stretched my eyes down to stare at the tip of my dripping penis, like I used to do when Monroe or Simon had done similar things to me early on. I blinked a little, wondering about the angle on the table, because, while I felt my penis throbbing and dripping, I couldn't actually see its tip like before. They must have had the table at an angle of some sort today.

Monroe's hand slid up my smooth groin, not touching my penis. "Very nice," he said. "Feels perfectly smooth, almost like silk to the touch." He looked at the doctor and made a harrumphing laugh sound, as his hand traced up my groin onto my belly. "I think he's actually smoother than a baby's butt."

"I'd say that's a fair bet," replied the doctor, still pouring over some charts on the other side of the room, or so it sounded to me. I closed my eyes as Monroe's hands came up my ribcage, gently tracing the curve of my right pectoral. His fingers lightly swirled over the top of the muscle and then around toward my nipple. I moaned softly as his finger ever so lightly brushed the edge of my nipple. Lightly, ever so lightly, he ran his finger up the puffy, swelled contour of my expanded nipple. I felt someone release my head restraint and was finally able to lift my head. My eyes locked on Monroe's finger circling my swollen and puffy right nipple.

I don't know how I hadn't noticed, but if I'd thought my nipples were causing me problems in school, that was nothing. If they had been a bit puffy before, now they looked positively swollen. "What's the current measurement doctor?" Monroe asked, "They were quarter sized, now they look to be about half dollar sized."

"That's about correct." The doctor looked up from his work. "They've still got a ways to go, but they're getting there." I barely heard him. The sensation of Monroe's hand, gently circling my swollen nipple was becoming too much. I leaned my head back and moaned.

Monroe's other hand came up to stroke my hair, which was growing fairly long by now. It seemed to be growing faster than usual, judging by how long I thought I'd been here. It was already over the bottom of my ears, and starting to curl up. Which was odd, it had always been very straight in the past, but it had never gotten this long before.

Monroe ran his hand through my hair, gently pulling it away from my head and then back to slightly massage the scalp. His other hand was starting to make me edgy as he continued to lightly stroke my nipple.

He switched hands suddenly, bringing the one stroking my hair down to my right nipple which had finally started to contract and harden. The other hand moved to my other nipple where he stroked it. My legs quivered in their restraints as he began massaging both of my nipples even harder. Gradually he increased the pressure, and I felt them harden under his fingers.

As they hardened up, I felt him take the tips between his thumbs and forefingers and gently twist them. "Ugghh, I moaned, my eyes closed, as his two hands twisted the tips of my nipples. My eyes popped wide open as he suddenly viciously twisted them, and someone else...Master Simon! grabbed my balls and yanked them down almost to my asshole. 'AAAAggggghhhh!" I cried at the pain, and my dick erupted shooting sperm over my stomach and chest.

As I lay gasping for air after the explosion, the doctor ordered Master Simon to release me. I hadn't even seen Master Simon come in, and until he'd yanked my balls I'd been unaware of his presence. After releasing me, Master Simon stepped back and went over to stand by Monroe and the doctor as they consulted on something. I stood at the foot of the table waiting. Since they weren't watching, I reached down and tried to massage my aching balls. Master Simon had yanked them pretty hard.

I don't know if I'd been sort of living in a daily stupor or what, but generally I had been pretty unobservant, just going through the day to day motions. It wasn't till I started massaging them, that I realized my poor balls were feeling swollen. When Monroe had played with them, they'd felt like golf balls rolling over the hills of my crack, but I hadn't realized that they'd actually swollen to the size of golf balls. I was sure they used to be half that size. Was it those shots? I didn't know, but whatever was happening, massaging them was making me hard again, real quick.

I glanced to make sure the others weren't watching and quickly grasped my penis, trying to relieve the pressure once again. It was something I was strictly forbidden to do, but I thought one quick jerk wouldn't hurt. I looked down as my hand closed around my penis, the head firmly enclosed in my fist.

I got a cold sick feeling in my stomach. My fist was closed completely around my penis. The head hidden inside my fist. I couldn't see the head of my penis above my hand! What's more, my hand was completely closed, fingers touching palm. I gave a cry of shock, my penis had shrunk!

This brought the others attention. Master Simon stormed over and knocked my hand away from my groin, and then slapped me hard. Slap. "You know you're not supposed to touch yourself!"

Tears were streaming from my eyes. "But my dick shrank! What the fuck have you done to me!" I cried. Slap. Slap. Master Simon's hand struck me twice, sharply.

"Only spoke when spoken to. And what we've done to you is none of your business. You are a slave." Slap. "Slaves do not question their masters. And it is not your dick. It is ours and we will do with it what we please." I was crying by this point, tears running down my face and sobs escaping my mouth. It was, however, more from the horror of seeing my now diminished penis, than from the slaps. I just stood, staring down at my ramrod stiff, yet shrunken penis.

Monroe stepped forward at this point. "Exactly how much has it shrunk Lowry?"

The doctor answered "Currently it measures just over four inches when erect, so it's shrunken an inch. Do you want it any smaller."

I sobbed in terror at this pronouncement. "How? Why?" Slap. Went Master Simon's hand. "Sir." I added.

Monroe slowly walked towards me, "How? Well boy, the penis is filled with a spongy like material that when filled with blood, causes it to become erect. We have developed a biochemical agent that when injected into the penis, eats away at the spongy material, reducing the erect size of the penis. Done slowly enough, over a period of time, the surrounding skin will shrink to fit the new size, just as with weight loss. Thus the overall penis size shrinks." I cringed at hearing this, they had something eating away at my penis?

"We can make it as small as we want. We can make it smaller yet. I am not sure if I want to though. It depends on your behavior." As he spoke, I stood with my arms at my side as Master Simon had taught me to do. The doctor came up behind me and started measuring me.

"As to why," Monroe continued, "it's because I intend to sell you as a pretty little cunt boy." He ran his fingers through my lengthening hair, stroking it. "You're going to be a fuck toy. As such, I intend to make it damn difficult for you to use that little nub to ever fuck anyone else. However, I also want it available as a sensitive torture pole to keep you in line with pleasure and pain."

He began massaging my red, swollen nipples again. "Of course that won't be the only way to control you." He squeezed a nipple, making me gasp. "Oh no, there will be many ways to give you pleasure and pain. Whoever I sell you to will be able to control your body in ways you can't even dream of. He'll be able to play your body like a musical instrument, make you whimper, cry, sob and scream in both agony and ecstasy at the same time. Make you beg for release, beg for pain, beg to end pleasure you won't be able to stand."

The doctor was writing on his tablet, but I hardly noticed. I was too horrified by what Monroe was telling me. I guess this was what he meant by specially modified sex slaves. I just couldn't grasp the enormity of it. The horror. When he first outlined my new status, he'd told me a little, but I hadn't understood. Now I was starting to, and I was frightened out of my wits, yet even so, my penis was dripping precum again.

"Shoulder width has increased eight inches," the doctor told Monroe. "Muscle growth in the laterals and pectorals has increased chest circumference by twelve inches, waist has narrowed by one inch, hip width has increased only by one inch yet hip circumference increased by five inches. Meaning very good growth in the buttocks. Yet as you can see," he tapped his pencil on my ass, "it remains taught and rounded. A nice pair of 'bubbles' if you will." He smiled at Monroe before going on. "Biceps are each an inch larger in diameter, thighs two inches and calves and forearms have increased approximately half an inch. Collar size is also half an inch wider. Height is the same. In short, he is putting on a reasonable level of well defined muscularity in the arms and legs, yet chest and buttocks are growing at about triple that rate. Resulting in a nicely muscled physique, yet one having, proportionately speaking , a boyish appearance to the limbs"

My mind was numbly taking in the doctor's cold analysis of the changes to my body. I couldn't think. I just couldn't believe this was happening to me. My body was being turned into some sort of toy for other men's sexual fantasies, and all I could do was sit back and let it happen.

"I think we will need about another month until external modifications are complete." The doctor told Monroe. Another month! They weren't done with me yet. My stomach felt like there was a led brick in it. What more were they going to do to me. I prayed they wouldn't make my penis any smaller.

External modifications? I suddenly got colder. That phrase implied there were other things being done to me. Like internal modifications. What were those? At the time, I was too frightened to even ask, even if I dared speaking with out being spoken to.

"Good." Monroe said. "Any idea on the prostate?" I still had no idea what a prostate was.

"No, I haven't done any tests. But given the other development, I'd say it should be at the same size as an adult male. It should have seen particularly large growth in the last week, and that should continue until we finish those treatments in half a month. At that point it should be enlarged enough and sensitive enough for your satisfaction. We will do formal tests at that point, but in the mean time, we can rely on perceived effects witnessed by Simon. Also he should be able to give us an idea on how well the neural growth is going in the injected regions." The doctor looked at Master Simon. "Look for increased sensitivity in nipple, penis, testicles and the anus. Similarly for increased flexibility and control in the sphincter muscles." Master Simon nodded.

I was still in such a shocked state, as realization of what they were doing was sinking in, that I had a hard time paying attention to what they were saying. But Monroe nodded, and said, "Very good. Simon how long since you last fucked him?"

"About ten days. He's due for one today." Master Simon replied.

"Good." Monroe turned to leave. "I'm very satisfied with its progress. I will be eagerly awaiting the opportunity to start the next phase." Next phase? I was feeling totally out of control. Lost.

After Monroe left, Master Simon snapped a leash on my collar and led me from the room.

This morning I was taken to the gym with the other slaves, and left to do my exercises. I had a hard time concentrating and received several slaps from the instructor for not doing things correctly.

As I was finally getting into the exercises, and we got to a part where there was considerable sway and bouncing, I noted that for the last week or two I'd been enjoying the feeling of my balls slapping against my ass cheeks as they swung through my spread legs. I'd noted it and enjoyed it, but it hadn't hit me until now that when I'd started, my balls were too high slung, and didn't swing like that. Now as I finally paid attention to my balls, I realized that not only were they much larger but they hung at least two inches lower than before. I'd been enjoying the way the guy in front of me's balls hit his ass, and now mine did the same.

This caused me to look more closely at the other man's balls. With a start, I realized his were swinging even more now. His had been as low and large as mine were now, but now his were even lower and larger and swung pendulously. I also noted that unlike myself, his dick was flopping even more, apparently longer than it had been. This gave me a slight thrill for some reason that I couldn't explain. It also made me feel slightly better to know that the other slaves were undergoing a similar, if different, sort of metamorphosis to what I was.

After exercising, several of us were taken to the jogging track as was usual for this day in the series. As I ran the laps I tried to assimilate the day's events and finally started to come to some grip on it. The whole thing was utterly horrible, but I didn't have any choice. My life and body were out of my control, and in the hands of others. All I could do was, for now, accept my fate, and trust that I would survive. If the opportunity arose, I would have to flee, but for the meantime, I'd have to recognize that I had no control and go with the flow, so to speak. Any other sort of compromise would mean vainly fighting the inevitable and possibly even more painful consequences.

That evening, I sat in my room waiting for my shake to arrive. In this, my first time alone since I'd finally woken up to my situation, I sat on the cot exploring my changing body. It was a shock. It was like I was suddenly finding myself to be someone else. Someone other than Jason.

The upper body exercises had broadened my shoulders and given me substantial chest muscles, the sort all boys long to have. A big strong muscular chest, they were almost starting to get that overhanging look above my ribs, like body builders get. My ribs tapered down to a narrow waist and toned stomach. The only problem was, I had these bloated nipples. I could easily believe the doctor when he said they were half dollar sized. Relaxed they were red, puffy swollen domes that stood out half an inch from my rounded chest muscles.

The other thing was, while my waist was as narrow or narrow than ever, my butt was bigger. I couldn't see it, but now that I was aware of it, I could tell it had grown by rubbing my hands over my asscheeks. I fondled my smaller penis, staring at it, hearing Monroe's words echo in my head, 'You're going to be a fuck toy...I intend to make it damn difficult for you to use that little nub to ever fuck anyone else.' I pulled on my foreskin, tugging at it in frustration as I thought about Monroe's words. Actually, my foreskin? Like most kids in the U.S. I'd been circumcised at birth. But there was no question that my little cock now had a hood to cover its head? Was that because of the shrinkage? Extra skin? They'd taken my body hair, and now they were taking my dick. Earlier, I'd thought they intended to try and keep me a little boy, now I knew it for sure. If Monroe had his way, my penis would be too small to use for fucking. It wasn't fair! What had I done to deserve this?

The door to my cell opened. I quickly let go of my dick and stood up as Master Simon walked in. I bowed my head and put my hands behind my back as he'd taught me. He shut the door behind him. He was smirking at me. "So, our little pussy slave is finally starting to realize its place in the world. Beginning to realize what its destiny is going to be. Well, boy," he stood very close to me. My eyes were staring down at the bristly hairs on his thickly muscled stomach, swirling around his navel, "you haven't" he put his right hand on my nipple and began playing with it, "even begun to understand it."

He turned me around, putting my arms at my side. He stood behind me, seeming to tower over me, his chin level with the top of my head. At first his hands rested on my shoulder, gently massaging my neck muscles. "The doctor does good work. Your body's changing, I've been seeing it. Yeah, physically, you're becoming the perfect little dick hole. Soon and with my help, you'll mentally be the perfect little cock receptacle as well." He ran his hands gently over my shoulders and down my arms causing me to shiver.

"Actually, it probably won't take that much work." He moved his hands under my arms, gently gripping my lat's. "I've trained a lot of slaves, and you more than most are truly born to be a slave." He rubbed his chin against the top of my head. His hands slid down my sides to my waist. He squeezed his hands together, compressing my waist, almost painfully. His large hair covered hands were almost big enough that his thumbs could touch along my back.

He released his grip and brought hands forward, arms around me, the edges of his palms sliding up my stomach to my chest muscles and then cupping them. He squeezed slightly, causing my chest to swell beneath his fingers. His thumbs began flicking my nipples, causing them to tighten and become erect, like my penis. Still cupping my pecs, he took each nubbin of my nipples and began twisting them between thumb and forefinger. I moaned out loud. I felt his leather jock pushing against my ass and knew what was coming, even though I'd never been fucked like this before. In the past I'd always been strapped to the table.

Tugging hard on the nubs of my nipples he forced me to bend over. Releasing his grip on my tits, I heard him unfasten his jockstrap. His hands were then on my waist, sliding downward, over the firm swollen ass muscles. I noted drops of precum dripping off my dick onto my cot. My breath became ragged. Once again, Master Simon was showing me a new type of pleasure.

Slowly I felt the cheeks of my ass drawn apart. His huge meat slid up the crack of my ass, back and forth, back and forth. Pressing hard into the crack. His hands squeezing the meat of my ass almost painfully tight. For the first time, I actually felt my ass hole relax, as if trying to open for him. I was panting.

Master Simon pulled back slightly and spat onto his hand and then began massaging his huge cock. I felt pressure on the bud of my asshole as his giant head pushed against it, demanding entrance. Slowly, I felt myself part, giving in to this intruder. My hole clenched a couple times on the head of his cock. This style of fucking, even without Master Simon all the way in me, was a lot better than the previous times.

His cock slid in further, parting the rings of my ass, opening my hole wide. Inward his cock probed, further until I felt the bristly brushing of his thick pubic hairs tickling my asshole. I gasped at the sensation Squirming on his dick. He was in all the way and while it hadn't hurt the last couple of times, this time it actually felt OK. In fact it felt almost good. I felt his dick pull back in my hole, and then forward.

The big man began picking up speed, back and forth, never fully withdrawing, but plowing back and forth in my chute. It was almost feeling like a massage. Why hadn't I noticed this before, it was almost creating a gentle itching sensation along the sides of my hole. As he picked up speed, he began pushing harder, reaching deeper.

Suddenly, on one particular thrust he hit something. That's the only way I can describe it. I blinked my eyes as my body shuddered. What was that? There...he'd hit it again, I moaned out loud. What was happening? Again and again he hit that spot and it felt like electric jolts were running through my body. Within a minute my dick was racked in spasms as I shot cum all over my cot. I couldn't control it, I hadn't touched it, but suddenly it was spewing out jism in time with Master Simon's strokes.

My knees began quivering with the sensation and then I felt Master Simon stop, the gentle pressure as the head of his cock expanded in my chute and a feeling of warmth as he shot his wad up my newly awakened channel. I closed my eyes and shuddered, as Master Simon withdrew.

He turned me around and pushed me down on the cot, my butt sliding across my recently spilled cum, smearing my ass cheeks. It didn't take much effort for him to push me down, as I felt completely drained, my eyes closed as I leaned back against the wall.

I felt a gentle nudging of something soft and wet on my lips. Without thinking I opened my mouth to let it in. In came Master Simon's only slightly softened penis. My eyes flew open as his cum smeared cock, fresh from my ass slid toward the back of my throat. I wanted to gag thinking of where that slimy penis had just been, but it was at the back of my throat before I could. My tongue shifting in my mouth around the big piece of wet and sticky meat.

The taste was like nothing I've ever tasted before. Not bad, not good, but different. By habit almost, my tongue slid along his cock as it started hardening once again. I felt my own, much smaller prick start to respond, preparing for another go around. He shifted forward slightly and then began to move his dick in and out of my mouth. Fucking my face, just like he'd fucked my ass a few minutes earlier. In and out, pressing against the little piece of flesh hanging in the back of my throat. My nose was being rubbed and made to itch by his pubic hair as his groin thrust against my face. It tickled, around my mouth and nose, just like it had been tickling around my asshole moments before.

I shut my eyes as the dark mass of hair charged forward and then receded from in front of my eyes. My dick ached as I felt his knee dig into my penis and then push downward, squashing my balls against my ass. The pain became intense as his knee pushed and then relaxed in time with his thrusts in my mouth. If I could have moaned I would have, as it was all I could do was make a purring sound in my chest as his dick and knee thrust against me in unison.

Then it happened, Master Simon's cock pulsed and spasmed, cascading another stream of man seed into my body. This time from the other end, as if he wanted his seed to meet in my belly. My engorged penis began to spurt again under his knee. I couldn't believe I'd come twice in such a short time. I took a ragged raspy breath through my nose as my tongue automatically tried to lick the last of the cum from his piss slit, just inside my lips.

When he finally withdrew, I lay limply on my cot, unable to move. Totally spent. Master Simon grabbed my hair, twisting it and my head painfully, forcing me to open my eyes and stare into his. "Very good, very good, my little pussy boy. You are a quick learner, a good slave. But in the future, you'd better be able to handle more before collapsing. You're going to learn how to service a whole group of men with hot hungry cocks."

He let go of my hair and stood up, looking down at me. "Be prepared," he said, then left.

Chapter 8

The next day began as usual, the guards cleaned me up and took me to the table room and strapped me to the table. After they had me secured, they went off down the hall as they often did, apparently to relax and drink some coffee while I was fed my breakfast and morning shots.

"Good morning boy." Peter, the technician, said as he strolled into the room, securing his long black hair in a ponytail as he walked. Peter was the only person whoever talked to me as if I were a person rather than an object. All though, perhaps it was more like he was talking to a small child, or bright dog, than an equal, still, it was more than anyone else did.

I couldn't see him, but I heard him preparing my shots on the other side of the room. "Good news. Doctor Lowry is so pleased with your progress that for the remainder of phase one, I'll be giving you all of your shots, and your breakfast." After several more minutes, he wheeled the cart with all the syringes and enema bag over to my table.

The knowledge that the doctor wouldn't be coming made me feel a little braver. So, as he began injecting me, I asked him. "Why are you doing this to me?"

He just looked up and smiled a tight smile, "doctor's orders you know."

"Yes, but why are you?"

He paused for a moment and looked me in the eyes. "It's my job. It's what I get paid for, and working for Doctors Lowry and Monroe has taught me more than I could have learned anywhere else in the world."

"Because it's your job? But its evil. Don't you see what you're doing to me?" I cried, tears coming to my eyes. "You're working for slavers. Their shots are making my penis shrink. They're mutilating me! It's not fair, what have I ever done to deserve your doing this to me." I was afraid I'd said too much, that he'd slap me for impertinence. But I didn't care.

Instead he looked at me, almost sadly and gently stroked my cheek, wiping the tears away. "Oh little one," an odd choice of words since he was only six or seven years older than myself, I guess he was referring to my height, "I know you're upset. But it's not all that bad. You're a very beautiful boy, and Doctor Monroe is seeing to it that you become even more beautiful." Gently he began brushing his fingers down my chest. Examining my body, as if to confirm his words.

"So I can be sold as a plaything," I answered back hotly.

"True, but there are worse things. You haven't seen the treatment other slaves receive. You're very very lucky. They want to preserve your good looks, so you probably won't ever be whipped or beaten too bad. I've had to treat slaves who've been permanently scarred in their training. They'll try to avoid that with you." He tore himself away from looking at me and began giving me the rest of my shots. I couldn't think of much to say to that, so I remained silent.

After finishing the shots he normally gave me, he began in on the shots the doctor gave me. "So what exactly are all these shots?" I finally asked him. "What do they all do?"

He smiled as he gently grabbed one of my testicles to spear. "Many things." I grunted in pain as he jabbed me. After a shot in each testicle everyday for over thirty days, I was beginning to be able to expect and deal with the pain. "The shots I have been giving you, are the ones to halt puberty, and ensure you don't develop any more secondary masculine characteristics. Eventually, we'll cut back on those, once some of the genetic agents have done their job. The shots to other parts of your body inject things to either make them grow faster when exercised, like they have been." He massaged my left pectoral. "Or shrink." He flicked his thumb over the tip of my penis. "Also some of them increase the number of nerve endings in places, making them more sensitive."

He inserted the long needle beneath my scrotum. "This one causes your prostate to grow, something the first set of drugs would normally inhibit. And there are others to do various less obvious things, but don't worry too much about them." He finished up and began preparing my breakfast, inserting the hose up my ass with a single quick motion.

"This is mainly just nutrients, concentrated food really. There are a few other hormones and drugs in them, but I don't know exactly what." He fell silent as he gently squeezed the bag, hurrying the mush contents into me.

As he was finishing up, the guards came back into the room. I was released from the table and led to the chair and sink where Peter washed my hair. The guards went to the other side of the room while Peter began scrubbing my hair. "Why are you so intent on getting my hair clean?"

"Actually, I'm not so concerned with getting it clean as getting this stuff into your scalp. You see this concoction is absorbed by your hair follicles where it goes in and rewrites the genetic code that causes your hair to grow."

"It changes how my hair grows?"

"Yes, it makes it grow faster, and more importantly it is altering the texture. If you haven't noticed, your hair is getting finer, silkier. It's also getting curlier. Since it rewrites the genetic code, we'll be able to discontinue the treatments in a few weeks."

"What about the other shots? How long am I going to be a human pin cushion?"

"A slave pin cushion." He gently rebuffed me. "That's hard to say. Most of this set we will be able to stop in a few weeks, the puberty altering drugs you'll have to take for some time, to counter balance the ones your body produces. However, I think some of the drugs in the mush, are working on the cells that produce those hormones in your body. Once they're done we can probably discontinue the injections, because your body will have been altered so it's no longer a factor."

I gave him a puzzled squint as he began rinsing my hair. "More precisely, your body will produce only some of the natural hormones or others that are similar, since you will need most of those hormones for sexual response. But in general, either the hormones or the points at which the hormones interact will have been altered so that unwanted effects will be eliminated. That would be the end of this set of drugs. However, I think Doctor Monroe has some other drugs in mind for phase two, but those won't be so extensive." He finished rinsing my hair and made me sit up.

I was really not liking the sound of phase two, whatever that was. Yesterday was the first I'd heard of it, and no one was saying much. I wasn't thrilled. The guards came over and put a leash on my collar, and fastened my wrist cuffs together behind my back. This was one of the mix and match days in my schedule so I wasn't sure what I would be doing today; but I did know, that tonight would be the vacuum cleaner. Joy. Not.





From that point on, I tried paying a lot closer attention to my body. Now that I was aware that things were happening, I wanted to be sure and know what things were happening. My penis may have shrunk a little more in the next few weeks, but not as much as before. I mainly noted that my chest muscles continued to swell, until the point where they were definitely overhanging my ribcage. My biceps also grew, as did my thighs, but nowhere in proportion to what my chest and ass seemed to be doing. I couldn't tell, but I think my shoulders and deltoid (?) muscles also grew quite a bit.

One thing I noted that was rather odd though, was that while I was putting on a lot of muscle, none of it seemed to have the hard edge to it that I saw on the more muscular slaves, or from what I remembered of body builders. All of my newly emerging musculature seemed to be very rounded and smooth. In fact, my skin almost felt slightly thick and springy to the touch over the hard muscles. Like there was a thin layer of baby fat running all over my body. I don't know if that was natural for me, or something they'd induced, or a side effect.

My nipples also continued to swell. Before long I began getting embarrassed by them. Two weeks after I'd last seen Monroe, I first noticed a couple of the other slaves discreetly staring at them during exercises. Where they had swollen to half dollar size after the first month, by the time I'd been in the dungeon about 50 days they'd swollen almost to the size of these old style silver dollars my grandfather had left me. Relaxed they formed little domes that stuck up almost an inch out from the hard plates of muscle in my chest. The nipple clamps were becoming almost a nightmare when they grabbed the tender buds.

My nipples weren't the only thing to swell, my balls as well, continued to grow. The weights were stretching my sack lower and lower, and the injections had caused my nuts to grow to the size of small eggs. They even felt swollen, like they were going to burst at any moment, Master Simon could make me gasp just by grabbing them roughly.

Strangely enough, since he'd fucked me the night after my inspection by Monroe, he hadn't come to my room at night either to fuck me or have me suck his cock. He still came by with the vacuum cleaner, but that was it. After about a week and a half with no sign of him, I began to wonder if I'd done something wrong. I didn't want him to come back, but even so I felt just the smallest amount of curiosity to see if he could hit that button thing that had caused me to exploded before.

It was in my sixth week in the dungeon that the slave twisting the rubber thing in my hole while I was working my upper body out managed to hit that same spot. When he'd hit it about the sixth time, I all of the sudden came. When I did, the slave was totally surprised at the cum covering his face. The guards alerted Master Simon and the slave cowered in fear, knowing he'd failed. However, Master Simon seemed strangely un-angered and let the slave off with only about twenty really hard spankings.

From that point on, the slave was much more careful in how he twisted the rubber thing. He quickly learned to tell by how my body tensed when he'd hit it, so he was able to work the sensation into his hellish pleasure game. I kept hoping he'd screw up again, but he never did.

It was shortly after that point that the doctor ordered the injections by the long needle to stop. It was also then that about a third of my other shots stopped as well, including half of the ones in my penis. By two months my hair was down to my shoulders, and very full and curly. Peter said I reminded him of a statue of a boy he'd seen in Italy one time. Also at this point, Peter's shampooing turned into something more like normal shampooing, without the gloves. He did however seem to spend an awful long time running his fingers through my hair as he washed it. Whenever I worked out, Master Simon would pull my hair back tightly and bind it in a painfully tight pony tail behind my head with leather straps.

During this period, Peter continued to give me all my shots and breakfasts. While he would never relent or be remiss on the shots, he did become more and more friendly and understanding. Occasionally he'd stop and run his fingers through my hair or gently caress my body. With him I didn't mind it so much, it seemed much more intimate than when Master Simon did it. I really think he was starting to like me. In fact I know he was. And I liked him too, he was the closest thing I had to a friend. And for some reason, maybe because he was all I had, he felt even closer than a friend to me.

It was about the seventh week, I'd been telling Peter about how I felt so out of control and was having so much trouble keeping track of things and keeping a perspective. It was then he told me how he kept a diary to help him with such things. That brought back things my teacher had once said about them. It took me four days of pleading, but eventually Peter broke down, and agreed to sneak a pen and small notebook into my cell for me.

He did it one day while I was exercising, when no one was in the cell area. He hid it under the mattress on my cot. I felt fairly secure, because as far as I could tell, no one ever disturbed my cell, it was always exactly as I'd left it. Not that there was anything really to leave, all I could judge by was the fact that my mattress and pillow never seemed to get washed, and I had to leave the chamber pot near the small door if I wanted it emptied.

Peter however was very nervous about it, but when he reluctantly agreed while washing my hair, I glanced to make sure the guards weren't watching and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. He pulled back startled, then smiled and quickly returned the kiss, before hurrying me up from the chair. I'd never kissed a man on the lips before. I wanted to do it again though.







It was, as near as I could tell, and the diary helped a little, my 10th week in captivity that I next saw Dr. Monroe. I had just been released from the stirrup table and Dr. Lowry was taking measurements as Monroe came in. He nodded to Master Simon, and launched in. "Good morning Lowry. How's my favorite little pet doing these days?"

"Very nicely, phase one is almost complete. As you can see it has put on considerable shoulder and chest growth since your last visit, and" he slapped me on the right ass cheek, "his buttocks have put on an equal amount of growth."

Monroe walked up and bent down to examine my balls, slowly picking them up, weighing them in the palm of his hand. Just his hand on them caused me to gasp slightly at the sensation. When he began rolling them in his palm with his thumb, I involuntarily shuddered slightly. Abruptly he dropped them and stood up. "Very good there. It's weanie?"

"Three and a half inches. Where you told me to stop it."

"Yes," Monroe said, looking me in the eyes as he talked to Dr. Lowry. "As long as it behaves, we'll let it stay that long. Any difficulties and it shrinks even more." I gulped at the threat. I knew I couldn't bare to let that happen. He reached out and began running his index finger around the cone of my left nipple. I gritted my teeth slightly at the sensation. Trying not to close my eyes. My penis was rigid and beginning to drip precum before I even knew it.

Monroe turned me around with his hand and pushed my shoulders down with his left hand, running his right down my back to the crack of my ass. He slowly rubbed his big hand over my left ass cheek, squeezing slightly, so that the flesh bulged red through his fingers. Gently, he ran the edge of his hand down the deepening crevice of my ass, drawing a moan of pleasure from me as his hand passed over the tight pucker of my asshole. I heard Monroe take an indrawn breath.

"What a nice deep crack its got. Very nice." He took both hands and spread the globes of my ass, exposing the tiny puckered bud between them. Licking his finger he slowly inserted it. As he did so, my legs tensed; not from pain, but from the almost excruciating tingling sensation that accompanied it. Up to the knuckle he pushed it, and then pulled back and inserted a second. I moaned out loud as the two fingers sought to stretch my hole.

As I moaned, my eyes glanced up and met Peter's. Suddenly I felt very self conscious and felt my face turn a bright red. I don't know why, but I didn't want him to see me like this, even though I knew he'd seen it all before, seen me played with before. But for some reason, I guess it was what I thought of our new friendship, I didn't want him to see me used like this. Used in front of all these people, used like the sex toy they wanted me to become.

"Simon." Monroe commanded. I heard Simon walk up behind me, as I felt Monroe remove his hand and step back. I stayed bent over, staring into Peter's eyes, unable to determine his expression as Master Simon's hands moved to grab me by the hips.

I winced at the suddenness of his thrust as his penis surged, dry, into my asshole. It stung, but didn't hurt anything like his first time. He pulled it back and forth a couple of times and the friction began to reduce quickly.

"Nice work doctor," Simon said. "It's getting moist already, self lubricating, just like you promised. Just like a real pussy." His hand reached under my chest and began twisting my right nipple between his thumb and forefinger until it was hard and erect, like my straining penis.

Master Simon's thrusts became faster and faster, it took but moments for him to hit that funny spot and when he did I had no choice but to close my eyes as the sensation became too intense. Much more intense than last time even. My hole was sweating and tingling, the motion of his cock in the channel almost felt like his dick was jacking my ass off, if that were possible. Every thrust caused me to gasp as he hit the button and sent sparks running up my spine to my brain.

After about two minutes of thrusting, my penis began shooting. Cum shot onto my chin and mouth. Unconsciously, I licked my lips, tasting my cum, salty yet sweet, thick water. Having cum, I should have been coming down from the high, but Master Simon's pounding in my ass kept my hole twitching, feeling like it was about to cum. Suddenly I felt him cumming in my ass, his cock's head swelling against the lining of my ass, spewing sperm into my guts. In my mind, I imagined that I could almost feel them crawling up my ass towards my belly. As his third spasm hit, while he continued to pound, he yanked with both hands on my erect nipples, hard, and suddenly my prick was dripping long strings of cum onto the floor as I hit a second orgasm. My breath was so ragged I could barely breath.

Master Simon pulled his cock from my ass with a wet sucking sound, and forced me to stand up. I tried not to look at Peter as Master Simon brushed my hair back over my shoulders. "Very nice indeed, doctor." Monroe said. "I think our slave is ready for phase two now."

Chapter 9

The rest of that day continued pretty much according to my normal routine. That evening, however, I got my first glimpse of 'phase two.' Shortly after drinking my shake, Master Simon and two guards came in. With them they wheeled a small cart with some sort of device on it, reminiscent of something school nurses might use to check your hearing. Additionally they brought a new seat for my chair.

This seat caused me more than just a little trepidation. It was a large metal plate with a huge phallus mounted on it. The phallus seemed to be lightly covered with thin layer of plastic, underneath I could see different bands of metal. From the bottom of the plate ran a number of wires to the cart.

I stood silently at attention as Master Simon greased up the phallus while the guards connected wires and plugged the cart into an outlet in the hall. "Ready for your new lessons, slave?" Master Simon asked, grinning evilly at me.

I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded meekly.

"Good," he turned toward me. "Now I expect your cooperation. You will give it to me, won't you?" He stared at me.

"Yes sir."

"Raise your arms a bit." I complied as he grabbed me under the arms with his big hands and picked me up like I was a doll. "Now bend your legs, like you were going to sit and prepare your cunt to get speared." I gulped and did as he ordered. Slowly he lifted me over the huge phallus and lowered me down onto it.

It was huge, I had to concentrate to relax my ass muscles in order to get it in. As I settled down on it, completely impaled, I realized there was no way I could get off of it with out help. It was too deep and I couldn't stand up from the chair due to lack of leverage. Of course this was a mute point, since the strapped me into the chair anyway. Strangely enough, except for a few twinges, it didn't hurt. It just felt really funny. Even though I'd gotten used to numerous toys up my ass during my exercises, this was much larger. Probably larger than Master Simon's cock.

Master Simon went to the machine and twisted a few dials. I felt a tingling sensation in my asshole, near the base of the dildo. "Feel that?" he asked.

"Yes sir."

"I want you to squeeze your ass muscles on that one spot, and that one spot only. Close your hole around the one spot only." It took me a few seconds, but eventually I succeeded and the tingling disappeared. "Try that one." I felt another tingle, further up the pole. It took me a while longer, but eventually I found the right muscle group in my ass to squeeze and shut the tingling off.

"OK, here's the story boy. You'll feel a tingling sensation at various points along the dildo. When you do, try and squeeze that area to make it shut off. Tonight you have a maximum of five minutes for each location. If you fail, you'll feel this." I yelped as I felt a sharp electrical shock to my butt.

"What I'm teaching you boy, is to control your pussy muscles. You're going to be doing this every night. The time you have for response is going to narrow, and eventually you'll be shocked for using the wrong muscle or using more than one at a time. Also we'll vary the pattern of sensations and eventually expect you to memorize certain sequences of squeezes. I'm telling you this, so you don't take tonight lightly and so you work hard, to prepare for future nights. Is this clear boy?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. I will see you later," and with that he and the guards left, shutting my door behind them. I was left with the computer making tingling feelings in my ass. I'd never been fucked by a computer before. I hadn't known you could be fucked by a computer, but here I was.

The computer session lasted for about two hours. I missed a number of the rings, simply because I couldn't figure out what muscles to use. By the end my butt was pretty sore on the outside where I'd been shocked, but the inside was actually feeling pretty good from all the tingling sensations. I was hard and dripping through out most of the session.





The next morning began pretty much as usual, but this time Peter only gave me about a third the normal shots and no shots in my ass, balls or dick. I was very grateful. However, I did note that some of those he gave me were different color liquids than before. Apparently they had put me on a new set of drugs. He asked me how my night was, and I told him, all the while he gently massaged my thighs and buttocks while feeding me my rectal breakfast.

For the first month or so I'd been hungry all the time, but lately, I wasn't usually hungry. The shake and the enema seemed to be enough to fill me up. Which I guess was good since it was all I ever got.

"Well, you'll have more fun coming." Peter said as he pulled the hose from my ass. My hole automatically squeezed shut to keep any breakfast from flowing out. He quickly reached down and kissed my balls with his lips. I sucked in my breath at the action. His cool wet lips felt very good on my permanently swollen eggs. As he put the bag on the cart beside me, I was able to note a bulge in the crotch of his pants. It made me smile, it was only fair, he'd had my dick dripping precum all morning long.

Master Simon and the guards returned, and this morning instead of my usual routine, I was led to a different room. This one was a true gymnasium, with gymnastic equipment and such. In it was a man who I recognized as an instructor-guard and about five other slaves. I was left in the gym with instructions to obey the teacher.

Apparently my new class was to be in gymnastics. We spent almost an hour doing stretching and limbering up exercises, different from my aerobics sessions. After that he began showing us how to use the different pieces of equipment. Overall, I spent at least three to four hours doing stuff in the gym, before we were finally allowed to lap water from dog bowls. One thing I did note was that, if I thought my balls swung during the other exercises, it was nothing to what they did on some of the gymnastic equipment. A jockstrap would have been really handy.

After that, I was taken to my cell and allowed to rest for about an hour before I was hauled off to the track and later to the pool. My shake that evening didn't arrive, and I began to wonder if Master Simon would visit me, privately, before he came with the new machine. Thus I wasn't surprised when he came in by himself after a while.

He shut the door behind him as usual, and I stood at attention. He looked at my groin and smiled, I blushed slightly. My penis was already at attention as well. He hadn't even touched me yet. "Yes, you are a good little cunt boy." He began stripping all his leather gear off. I blinked in surprise, he'd never done that before.

As he did so, I stood silently, tracing the thick forest of hair matting his chest. His good sized, (small compared to mine) nipples and already swelling cock kept drawing my eyes away though. He stepped up real close so that my face was pressed against his furry chest as he reached down my back and began massaging my ass. "Yeah, you're a good fucking slave. But I'm going to make you even better."

Suddenly he turned slightly sideways and thrust the hairy pit of his left arm into my face. I sputtered and tried to pull back, but his other hand ground my face in. "Lick it boy. Lick it real clean." I didn't want to lick his smelly armpit, but I was having trouble breathing with my face stuck in it, so I began to comply. As I covered every inch of his pit, he moved to allow me slurp my tongue over his chest. Hair kept getting in my teeth, but he wouldn't let me pull back. My tongue swiped over his nipple, and he held me in place for a second. "Suck it." I did, it felt rubbery between my lips, but was quickly tightening into a taught nub.

After a few seconds, he moved my head on, forcing me to lap up his entire chest and both pits. After his right pit, he had me move down and lap up his stomach. Finally, as I expected, I was down lapping up his groin. My mouth reached to embrace his penis as I figured he wanted when he roughly pushed me away.

"Sit down, against the bed." I sat down on the floor with my back against the bed. Before I realized it, Master Simon was backing his ass up to my face.

"No I protested." I tried to move away but was trapped between his legs. As I shook my head, he kicked me with his heal in my side.

"Stay still. You're about to eat an asshole sandwich whether you like it or not.

I stayed still, my side aching from the kick as the hairy crack of his ass approached my face relentlessly. I whimpered, I didn't want to do this, but I didn't see how to avoid it without pain. Suddenly there it was, my nose and face was being wedged between the cheeks of the big man's ass. It stunk. If I thought his groin was musky, this stunk. I felt like retching.

"Lick it you little cocksucker." He stepped down hard on my hand when I failed to comply.

Hesitantly I stuck my tongue out. It twisted around some wiry hairs and then I felt a puckered button between the cheeks. I licked it. I didn't taste any shit, which was what I feared, but I still was nervous. "Good, again now, harder."

I did as he said and began lapping at his hairy asshole like I had his chest and pits. He shoved his ass harder into my face, his hairy ball sack bumping against the bottom of my chin. I stuck my tongue out harder to the hole, and was surprised to feel it open on its own. The hole practically sucked my tongue into it. I was numb in shock.

I heard Master Simon growl and realized I'd been lax, and so began to probe the side of that hole with my tongue. It really felt weird. Smooth, yet wrinkled around the edges, my tongue slid in until it felt the next ring of muscles, which was as far as I could stick my tongue. As I probed, Master Simon began squeezing my tongue with his asshole, all the while wriggling his crack in my face, bouncing his balls off my chin.

He reached down between his legs and began twiddling my left nipple. I groaned into his hole as jolts of electricity traced their way from my nipple all over my body. My nipples tightened, I couldn't see them with my face in his ass but I felt them tighten to pretty big nubs. My nipples were so swollen that when erect they were as wide as the nipples on a baby's bottle, and nearly half an inch long. He began twisting on them, the pleasure so intense that I wanted to stick my face up his hole if it meant he'd keep it up. I ground my face in, trying to get my tongue further, my lips were sucking at the edges of his hole. Only gurgling noises came from my throat.

Suddenly the ass was gone, I blinked in surprise as Master Simon whirled around and rammed his dripping cock down my throat. Despite some practice, I gagged at first and then finally fell into a rhythm as he fucked my face hard.

"Oh yeah," Master Simon moaned. "I'm fucking that little pussy mouth of yours, filling that cock hole tight." The tip of his dick was bouncing off the back of my throat. He grabbed my head and roughly shoved his pulsing cock deeper into my throat than ever before. My lips were smashed against the root of his dick.

My throat felt like it was choking as it was roughly stretched by the head of Master Simon's dick. Only my breath exercises with Dolphin kept me from passing out. It was then that I felt it. Like my throat was constricting, only it wasn't my throat. It was the head of Master Simon's dick, swelling in my tight throat, pushing my throat muscles out as he spewed his seed deep into my esophagus. One, two three the head spasmed, each time stretching the back of my throat. He shifted his foot and accidentally stepped on my balls. The pain came on the fourth spasm from his cock, and suddenly my own little prick was shooting jets of cum up onto my chest, one glob running down and hanging off the tip of my right nipple.

Master Simon bent over me, his hands resting on the bed, his groin tightly pressed against my face. He shifted slightly so I could get minimal air through my nose as his cock was still lodged in my mouth, if not my throat. As I'd learned from the slave at the machine, I bathed his cock with my tongue, trying to get the last of the cum out of his piss slit, even though it was still a bit too far back in my mouth.

Eventually he pulled back, his dick popping from my mouth. "Good boy." He began putting his leathers back on. "Very good." When he finished, he turned and left. I crawled back up on my cot to try and rest. I could still smell the stink of his ass in my nose.

About an hour later, or so I'd guess, Master Simon and the guards returned with the dildo machine. I was shortly strapped in and left to try and learn how to squeeze the dildo properly. I was tired, but that night I only failed to find the right muscle for five tingles. However, it did take me nearly the full time on some of the ones I did manage.





The next morning after my shots, enema energizer and a normal, if slightly intimate, shampooing, I was led to a classroom with about nineteen other slaves. In the room was a series of ten large rubber mats, with two slaves seated on each mat. The instructor for this class was a short man, about thirty, of considerable endowment, with hair only on his head and groin. Like many of the instructors, he was very muscular. While he did wear chaps, he didn't wear any underwear or support garment, instead exposing his large piece of equipment prominently. In fact I was at first sort of puzzled that it always appeared swelled, the veins almost bulging, until I noted that he had some sort of metal ring at the base of his cock, apparently keeping blood from retreating.

My fellow slave on my mat was one of the hairier slaves. I looked at him with some surprise, he couldn't have been much older than me, but he had more than the average amount of hair. Thick curly, light brown hair covered almost every inch of his body. The mat of hair in his groin was so thick I could barely see his cock and balls when they weren't erect. Only his face was clean shaven. I wasn't the only one examining the other, I noted that he was studying me out the corner of his eyes as much or more than I was studying him.

It was only a few moments after I was seated, Indian style, that the last of the slaves entered and sat down. The instructor then stood up and informed us that we were to be taught the fine are of fellatio. I had no clue what the "Art of Fellatio" was, but I thought it a bit of an odd thing for sex slaves to study.

It didn't take me long to realize I was wrong. Fellatio, it turned out was the technical word for sucking on a man's penis. We also learned a large number of other words for it, both in English and in several other languages. Apparently, I found out later, they wanted slaves to be able to understand certain things in any language, since they might be sold to any part of the world.

My partner and I were to practice the techniques we learned from the instructor on each other. This was my first real sexual experience outside of Master Simon, the guards and the weight room slave. After the lecture the instructor ordered us to go to it.

"Do you wish to go first, or should I?" the other slave asked me.

"I don't care, if you want, I can blow you first." He smiled and spread his legs out on the mat, resting on his back, propped up on his elbows. In the thick forest of pubic hair I noted a rapid stirring as his penis began to grow. I got down on my stomach and moved my face up to the head of the boy's hairy dick. It wasn't covered in hair, like the rest of him, but the base was very furry. I rubbed my hands on his thighs, feeling the texture of his skin and hair, so different from my own, my penis was already hard on the mat beneath me.

Carefully I began to lick the underside of the hairy rod, starting at the top of the scrotum and taking a long pass along the bottom with my tongue, as the instructor had told us to do. His prick was very good sized, not as big as the instructor's or Master Simon's but good sized, about seven inches long. As I gently kissed the head of this boy's cock, I thought back to less than two months ago when I thought I'd never be able to suck another guy's penis. I guess I was changing.

My tongue dipped lightly into the piss slit, prying it apart slightly, then guiding my tongue out the other side and around the crown. My lips gently closed over the head of penis and the boy moaned. I began slurping in earnest, running my mouth up and down over the prick as the teacher had told us to start with. As I began to get into it, I found it difficult not to try some of the things I'd learned from the weight room slave, but the instructor had been explicit in what we were allowed to do. Within about ten minutes, the hairy boy was shooting his prick off, dowsing the roof of my mouth with his hot juices. I used my tongue to lick the last of the juices from his penis and then pulled off.

I then rolled over on my back, for him to begin practicing on me. He too switched positions, as he did so, he got his first good look at my penis. "Looks like I'll have the easier job today." He stated. I blushed, ashamed. I'd momentarily forgotten how much smaller my penis was than those of most of the other slaves in the room. "I've never seen one that tiny," he said as if amazed, staring at it in some wonderment. I blushed even harder and glared at him.

He realized what he'd said, and blushed back. "Sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. It's just that your nuts are so huge, I kind of expected your cock to be too. It is very pretty though, and like I said your nuts are fantastic, I don't think I'll be able to get both of them in my mouth at the same time, when we get to that part of the training."

He stopped talking and put his tongue on my cock, practically enveloping it with his tongue in one short stroke. I shuddered, my ass and leg muscles clenching as his tongue dragged over the head of my penis. The sensation was extremely intense. I don't know if the weight guy had been purposely gentle or what, but this boy's untrained tongue practically had me biting my own tongue at the intensity of his licking. He began moving his tongue on the head of my penis, through the piss slit and around the edges. I simply lay there and twitched at the sensation, I had to close my eyes, my breath ragged with strain. I began to feel as if I was ready to pop. Within three minutes of him swallowing my prick I was coming in his throat. I had wanted to wait, to let him try the other techniques, but I couldn't wait.

"Wow that was quick!"

"Sorry," I said.

"Well, I guess I was right about having it easy, but for a different reason. You're pretty easy to shoot. Here let me do this, maybe it will get you warmed up." He began kissing my balls, gently bathing them in his tongue. Once again I began shuddering at the sensation. I didn't understand it, the last week or so, my balls and penis seemed to have become geometrically more sensitive. It must have been the shots, but whatever was, I was very shortly twitching with uncontrollable muscle spasms, and moaning out loud. I was also hard and dripping again. Thus he was able to get a double helping.

After fellatio school ended for the day, I was led to the weight room, where I was ordered to work out on a variety of machines for shorter periods than previously. Apparently more for toning than shaping. After that I was allowed some water, and then a few laps around the track and swimming. That evening it was my shake and the dildo machine.

The third day of my new sequence consisted of my new series of shots and breakfast. This was followed by my normal exercise class, although since it was on a different day, it was mostly a different set of slaves. The slave who's balls I used to like to watch wasn't there, and I was slightly disappointed.

The disappointment was eased by my next class of the day. This was, believe it or not, a ballet class. Why they have us learning ballet, I have no idea. However, I did find it rather exciting to see lots of naked slaves lifting their legs high, exposing their assholes, balls and dicks. I have to admit to being surprised by myself. At school I'd never had much interest in others, for girls or boys, don't get me wrong, I jerked off like any teenage boy, but usually not to the thought of classmates. All though, by tacit assumption I was interested in girls, but to be honest I hadn't paid either sex much attention, sexually. During my stay at the dungeon, I'd found myself more and more thrilled by my narrow opportunities to see other slaves exposing themselves. During exercises or whenever.

It used to be the thought of being naked with a bunch of other guys and getting a hard on made me nervous. However, in the dungeon, all slaves were naked, and most had hardons most of the time. Thus it was nothing to feel ashamed of. Well, with the exception that I didn't like them staring at mine more than in passing. I'd get to feeling nervous because of its small size. However, most the time I caught other slaves looking, it was usually at my nipples or ass, neither one of which was that much less embarrassing, but it wasn't quite so discomforting.

Neither the nearly naked guards, nor Master Simon had quite the same appeal. There is something very different about how looking at them feels. With them, Master Simon in particular, it's more fascination, more hypnotic. It doesn't feel so much like sneaking a furtive glance, but more of an opportunity to admire his body. If that makes any sense. I guess it's more like an opportunity to worship rather than to sin.

After ballet class came more serious weight workouts, similar to before, but less demanding, they stopped adding as much weight, and I only had to do two sets on each machine. This was, not surprisingly followed by some water and then swimming. On the new third evening, I was once again chained to the dildo machine, which was a relief compared to the vacuum cleaner I used to get on third nights. By my third day, fourth time with the machine, I was starting to get the hang of the pattern, and with some wiggling and shifting of my ass on the pole, I managed to get all but three spots on the dildo.





As my life settled into its new routine, my morning conversations with Peter became deeper, about his life and childhood, and also about mine. Every morning that the guards and Master Simon weren't there (which were most) we'd talk while he filled me, or gave me my shots. Gently stroking or petting me while filling. His shampooing was getting to be highlight of my routine, of my existence. They were almost sensual, and he or I would often sneak a kiss when no one was looking. I was falling in love with one of my jailors. I think there is a name for that, some sort of syndrome, but I don't recall. But falling for a man who was altering my mind and body so it could be used as a sexual toy for others? Who was the crazy one? Love is stupid sometimes. Love can be dangerous sometimes.

The first several times I tasted cum, I couldn't tell any taste, other than a slightly sweet salty taste. But as my fellatio class went on, and I practiced with different partners, I began to notice a difference in the flavors. Different people had different tasting cum, and even then it sometimes tasted different from day to day for the same person. By the end of the second week of class, I was shocked to realize that I was actually beginning to like the taste. I shuddered thinking what Jason would have thought about such a thing.

At the beginning of the third week of phase two, Master Simon increased the speed on the of the dildo machine. I now had only thirty seconds to get the right muscle or be stung. When I mastered that within the week, he took it down to ten seconds, that was tricky, but as long as the pattern stayed the same I had no problem. When the pattern switched, as it periodically did, I'd get shocked until I got the pattern down right.

During that four week period, Master Simon never once fucked me or had me suck his dick. I guess he figured I was getting enough sucking in class and fucking from the chair. But it wasn't quite the same. During the fourth week I found myself wishing Master Simon would come by and fuck me. The machine was just stimulating enough to remind me of what wasn't happening. The tingling sensations were fantastic, but the dildo didn't hit that hotspot deep inside me.

On the thirtieth day since phase two began, I mentioned this to Peter as he was preparing my breakfast. He put the bottle down and came over to my table. He gently stroked my calf with his left hand as he smiled and began playing with my nipple with his right. My penis was swelling immediately. Looking into my eyes he said, "I wish I could help you, boy. I'd really like to make love to you."

"Make love to me?" My heart skipped. No one had ever said such a thing to me. He bent over and kissed me on the lips, his tongue gently splitting them to play along my teeth. I closed my eyes, sighing through his kiss.

As he pulled back, I said, breathlessly, "please Peter, make love to me, fuck me. I want you so badly." And I did, I suddenly realized I wanted Peter more than anything else. I wanted to feel his penis inside me, feel it swell and fill my insides up.

"I can't. It's strictly forbidden." He looked almost forlorn.

"I love you Peter, please, I want you inside me, I need you." I begged. He looked at his watch and seemed to make up his mind.

Peter released my head restraint so I could turn my head to follow him as he stepped back slightly, removing the strap holding his long hair back. It cascaded to his shoulders, as long as mine, but a straight and shiny black rather than the curly black of my own. I watched in rapt fascination as he slowly took his lab coat off and then began unbuttoning his shirt.

His chest was lightly furred, with a dark triangle in the center and small circles of hair around each quarter sized nipple. The hair traced down from the triangle in a narrow line, expanding to lightly cover his stomach and then disappear into his jeans. He removed his shirt and began unfastening his pants. He wasn't particularly muscular, more tall, thin and angular, somewhat wiry. His pants dropped showing the dark patterns of hair tracing down his thighs and covering his calves in dark fur. As he pulled his jockey shorts down I could see his penis already swollen in anticipation, almost eight inches long. More than twice the size of my own. When he was completely naked he came back to the table and unfastened my wrists and arms so I was free of the table.

Gently he dragged me to the floor, laying down on top of me, kissing me. His right hand began gently massaging my left nipple, his left cupping my ass, squeezing gently, pulling my right leg up. I moaned, the sensation in my nipple and crotch, where he ground his firm, hairy balls against mine was making me squirm in nervous excitement. I wasn't sure how long I could hold. His tongue slid out of my mouth, his chin turning my head sideways as his tongue slid over my cheek to my ear. I shuddered as his tongue penetrated my ear, tickling.

My belly was starting to feel sticky as precum from both of our dicks began to smear between us. His hand found my ass, I grunted as his finger pried its way in. I had to gulp a breath of air. I felt like I needed to hyperventilate. His finger began sliding in and out, easier and easier as beads sweat began to line my hole, lubricating it.

Carefully, he lifted my balls, gently rolling them in his hand as he repositioned himself, lifting and spreading both my legs. I felt him enter, softly, tenderly. I sobbed in bliss. No one had ever done anything so tender, so gentle to me. I can't describe the feeling, his thick meat sliding softly, wetly up my ass. As it moved inward, filling and slightly stretching it, it felt almost as if he were scratching a long untouched itch.

As I felt his groin push tight against my balls, I began contracting various muscles in my chute, like with the dildo machine. Peter grunted in surprise as my ass began to massage his member. "Oh god that feels good! How do you do that?" Slowly I kept cycling through, from bottom to top, squeezing releasing. Slowly he began moving back and forth, gently so my ring muscles could stroke him as he slid back and forth. I cupped his lightly furred buns in my hands, running them up and down, loving the furry texture.

His lips sought mine, sucking hard on my tongue. Back and forth we kept moving, occasionally I wriggle my butt a little to massage a different spot of his cock after he'd shifted. Suddenly, he shoved deeper, hitting my trigger spot. By this point I was so worked up, that as the first electric current flushed through my body, my dick began spurting, oozing out between our tightly pressed bellies. As the last of the shocks faded, I felt the tip of his manhood pressing back against the walls of my asshole He was coming, I gasped as I felt the warmth generated by his man juice filling my gut.

"What the fuck is going on here!" I heard a loud demanding voice shout, as the metal doors to the room crashed open. Before I could notice what was going on, I felt Peter ripped from my ass. It hurt a little, but not as much as it apparently did him to judge by his yelp.

The two guards were holding Peter, naked and shivering between them, his cock quickly shrinking. Master Simon was standing there with his hands on his hips glaring at Peter. "What the fuck were you doing?" He demanded of Peter. I lay, curling up on the floor, surprised and scared by Master Simon's anger.

Peter, too was scared, his face had gone completely white. "Nothing...nothing," Peter stammered. Slap Slap Slap Master Simon's hand struck Peter three times. Hard.

"It sure as hell didn't look like nothing! You had released the slave and were fucking it!" Peter shook his head frantically. "Are you saying you weren't?" I couldn't bare to see Peter scared like this, I spoke up.

"Sir, sir, it was my fault. I begged him to make love to me."

Master Simon stopped suddenly, as if he'd been going to ignore me and continue his rage, and then as if my words had penetrated, he stopped in midstream. "Jensen..." First his eyes, then his head and then his body swiveled to look down at me, cowering on the floor. "You what?"

I nodded my head, "I asked him to make love to me, to fuck me." Master Simon just stared at me in shock. I tried to glance at Peter, but he'd just sagged between the two guards, eyes closed, looking defeated.

"Make love to you?" He said it as if he didn't understand the term. "Are you two in love by any chance?" He asked, suddenly almost sweetly.

I didn't catch the irony in his voice, I only grimaced and nodded yes. "Oh this is good, Jensen. Real good." Master Simon glanced at Peter. "You've fallen in love with a slave, and he with you. When you decide to fuck up, you don't do it small. And this one beats the pants off of any of your previous fuckups. Both Lowry and Monroe are going to be so...oh pleased with you."

At this point, as if speaking their names had the power to summon them, Dr. Monroe and Dr. Lowry entered the room. Master Simon glanced up at them. "Oh you'll love this one."

"What happened?" Monroe demanded, glancing dismissively at me and then studying Peter.

"We return to pick up the slave and what do we find? This fuckup," he gestured at Peter, "had freed the slave, pulled him down on the floor and was fucking him, good, hard and slow."

Dr. Lowry glared at Peter. "You know the rules. You've been warned after your past infractions."

"Oh, but it gets better." Master Simon stated. Both doctors looked at him. "You see, the little cunt says that they're in love. That he begged fuckup to 'make love to him.' Can you believe that?"

Both doctors turned their glares back on Peter, if anything he shrunk even further back between the guards. "Is this true, Jensen?" Dr. Monroe asked.

Peter looked at me, closed his eyes and nodded.

"Jensen, you know the rules, and this time you've broken the biggest of them all. This is much worse a screwup than you've ever managed before. You know how strictly slave training is controlled, how even the smallest deviations can undo months of work. The stuff you did in the past we might tolerate, if you'd done something like that we could have just fired you. But this breaks them all and then some. You were warned." Peter was shaking his head, crying.

Dr. Monroe looked at Master Simon. "Forfeiture."

"No, please, it won't happen again. Please, I'm sorry, I won't do it again." Peter begged, almost in terror.

"You're right, you won't do it again, slave. Your employment is hereby terminated as is your freedom. You've signed the contract, you know the penalty. Your rights as a human being are now forfeit. I claim you as property under the contract. And by god, I'll see to it you won't be fucking any of my slaves ever again." Monroe stated, jerking his thumb for the guards to drag Peter out.

I sat there staring after him, hardly comprehending what had happened. The shock, surprise, horror of it, only slowly hitting me. "Get it up and take it to it's cell, we'll decide what is to be done with it later." Monroe told Master Simon, gesturing at me.

Master Simon grabbed me roughly and dragged me to my feet. Roughly, he led/dragged me down out of the room, towards my cell. As we went he started talking, angrily at me. "First and foremost, slave. Slaves don't have ideas, they don't have feelings, they don't love. Get that through your head. Slaves don't 'make love.' Slaves are for fucking and sucking and whatever else their master desires. You were wrong for mistakenly thinking you were in love, that isn't possible for a slave."

We neared my cell and he shoved me in ahead of him, down towards my cot. "Obviously something had been going on between you two for some time. Something that shouldn't have been. However, I blame you only for your mistake in thinking you were in love. I could blame you for having sex without my express permission, just like if you had been touching yourself, and I should; however since I never expressly forbade it, and Jensen was acting as my proxy and was in authority over you, I won't. It was Jensen's fault, he was left in charge of you and knows not to do what he did. It was Jensen's mistake, and he will pay the full price of it."

I was petrified for Peter. "But sir?" I winced, expecting a slap for speaking out of turn. He noted my hesitancy and motioned for me to speak. "I begged him too, I told him I wanted to be fucked, and I wanted him to do it. It was my fault."

Master Simon sighed. "Slave. Understand this. Your wants and needs have nothing to do with anything. They are completely irrelevant. Jensen knew that and knows that. He was in control of you, he chose to fuck you because he wanted to, not because you wanted it.
"He shouldn't have been talking to you in the first place. I will assume you would have been following my rules and not have spoken to him. Otherwise you'd be punished for speaking out of turn. As it is, he spoke to you, and allowed to speak and you begged for nothing wrong. I have no objection if you want to beg to be fucked, that's perfectly fine. It is the master's choice whether or not he will fuck you, not yours. Get it?" He glared at me, I simply nodded.

"Good, I will talk to Monroe. Don't worry, I will see to it that you are not held responsible, not punished." He walked out the door, and begun shutting it. "At least not directly," he added.


Chapter 10

I sat in a state of near panic in my cell for the rest of the day, my routine apparently canceled. Finally, that evening after my shake, Master Simon and the guards wheeled the dildo machine into my room, but were completely silent. I was too frightened to ask what would happen to Peter, or myself, even though I was sick with worry. I hadn't been spoken to first.

The next morning, I thought things were business as usual as I was cleaned out and then fed and injected, by a silent Dr. Lowry. However, after my shots I was, to my surprise led back to the shower room. My two guards guided me to one corner of the room and lightly held my arms, directing me to stand facing the room.

Within a couple minutes, two more guards dragged Peter into the room. He was looking weak and almost sick with fear. His hair bedraggled and unkempt from what appeared to be a sleepless night. His two guards led him to the toilet and began cleaning him out; in a much rougher manner than I was accustomed to. After his bowels were cleaned, he was blasted with hot water and blown dry. He glanced at me a couple times, but I was unable to decide what if anything his glances meant.

My feelings were totally at odds with themselves. I felt sick that Peter was being enslaved for loving me, yet at the same time felt a slight guilty thrill at seeing someone subjected to the same treatment I faced everyday. Over all, I just had sort of a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I was led down the hallway, escorted by my guards behind Peter and his guards. When we entered the same examining room I was normally fed in, I was again led to a corner. This time my wrist and ankle cuffs were fastened to eyebolts in the wall that I'd never noticed. While this was happening Peter was fastened to the stirrup table in my normal position. Peter struggled vainly for several minutes and then gave up. He knew I was in the room, but of course could not see me with his head immobilized.

Within a few moments, three other technicians came into the room, dressed as Peter used to dress, and wheeling little carts. Each of these carts had power cords going to a wall outlet, and I quickly realized they were three sets of the electrolysis machines that had taken my body hair. Within a few minutes all three began working simultaneously on Peter's body, Stripping each hair from his body three at a time, as each technician took a different part of his body.

Peter began bucking in the constraints, the pain had to be pretty intense. I remembered how much one gun on me had felt, let alone three. I felt goosebumps crawl over my skin. Again I was torn. It hurt to see Peter in such pain, yet at the same time, it was Peter who had robbed me of my own hair. Peter also had a lot more body hair than I'd had, all over. Even with three technicians working it still took them slightly longer than it had taken Peter to do me.

During the brief breaks I had been given small glasses of water by Peter, his technicians gave him none. My guards did occasionally feed me some water from a bottle with a straw while I watched. As the last of Peter's hair was shorn from his body, I began to relax, sure that it was almost over and I could go back to my cell and relieve my aching bladder. To my shock, however, one of the technicians eased the restraint on his head and then began cutting his hair with scissors. His beautiful long black hair was quickly shorn down to a very short scraggly crew cut. It was at this point, the other technicians began readying their electrolysis guns again.

Against Peter's anguished sobs they began removing not only the day old stubble on his cheeks and neck, but the hair on the top of his head. They intended to make him completely hairless, everywhere, forever! My eyes widened as I almost felt Peter gasping in pain as one technician kept his head immobilized while the other two removed the hair.

Finally they were finished and two of the technicians began massaging the same ointment I'd received after my electrolysis by Peter. Peter's eyes were closed, but eye could make out tear tracks running down his red, raw looking cheeks. As they were doing this, Dr. Lowry came in and began preparing a large number of injections.

If I had thought they had given me a lot of injections early on, it was nothing compared to what they gave Peter. They easily gave him three times as many shots as I'd ever received. His screams echoed in my head, even as my own had, as they injected him in the penis, testicles and various other tender parts.

Eventually, this nightmare was really over, and I was led back to my cell. Once back, I barely had time to relieve my bladder before my shake arrived. Shortly thereafter, Master Simon and the guards brought me the dildo machine. Once again they said nothing.

During the exercises with the machine all my concentration was required to get the patterns right. A few days earlier, Master Simon had adjusted the machine, so that I was stung if I accidentally squeezed the wrong ring, or squeezed extra rings in addition to the correct one. When I was finished, I lay on my cot thinking about what lay in store for Peter. The only man who'd treated me like a person and who was now paying the price for it. The first man I'd ever had strong feelings for, other than my father, was now in the same situation as myself, all because he returned those feelings. I didn't feel very good.





The next morning I woke up sort of thirsty, or was it hungry? I'm not sure, all I know is that I felt like I wanted something to eat or drink, but I didn't know what. It was just as well since all I got was my normal enema breakfast. This morning both Peter and I were cleaned together. I could tell he was in pain as the hot water blasted his newly denuded flesh. I remembered how much it had stung my second day too.

We were both strapped to stirrup tables in the room. Dr. Lowry saw to my shots and feeding, while two technicians saw to Peter's. Today for some reason, my head was unrestrained and I could bend my head and neck to watch his ordeal. I am thinking that was part of the reason I could move my head. Once again he received the enormous number of injections, three times what I used to receive, almost five times as many as I currently got. His enema bag was also larger than mine, and fuller. I wondered at how he would hold it in. I shouldn't have though. Master Simon showed up with a butt plug for Peter.

Peter yelped in pain as Master Simon shoved it in. Actually, I thought it looked like a pretty small one, compared to what I'd been getting. However, I don't think Peter had ever had anything shoved up his hole before. I blushed as I felt myself getting hard watching Master Simon twist it around in Peter's hole, making him moan in pain or perhaps pleasure; but I think pain.

At that point we were led our separate ways, I to my normal routine and Peter to I don't know where. I was taken to cocksucking class. I was strangely happy to note that I was being kept on the same schedule, that it hadn't been shoved back. While I'd have never believed it before, as I walked in, I was actually looking forward to class. It went as well usual, but the entire time, I puzzled over the feeling of excitement I'd felt on coming to class. I finally gave up as I was led to the weight room, noting that at least my feeling of hunger had gone away.

The next week or so went fairly close to before, only now, Peter and I were being injected and fed breakfast together. With my head once again strapped down, I could only see him when he and I were brought in or released, and often not then if he came in after me, or left earlier. However, I heard him as he was being injected, making a lot of the same noises I'd made until I'd gotten used to the shots. The oddest thing over this period was that hungry/thirsty sensation.

After the first few months I'd stopped getting hungry, I guess my body had gotten used to its new diet, but as phase two went on, I felt myself feeling getting this unsatisfied feeling. Almost like a nervous hunger if you will. Except, I really didn't feel physically hungry, and I was getting as much food as ever. Perhaps craving was a better word, like when you really want a candy bar, even if you aren't hungry. It seemed to be the worst on the evenings of the first day of the series, and abated during the second day. Usually I'd forget about it during fellatio class and then I wouldn't think about it for a day or two until it started getting bad.

My instructors all seemed pleased with my work, in all my classes. At least I wasn't getting punished any more than the average students, and in some cases less. They never praised us, but they had no problems punishing errors. In particular, the cocksucking class went well for me. I was getting pretty proficient. Perhaps this was because I was actually enjoying the class.

For whatever reason, practicing on different slaves was something of a thrill. I'd found each one tasted different, and I was getting into trying to guess what a slave's cum would taste like by his appearance and other physical characteristics. Also since I wasn't getting any food to really eat, sucking on all those different shaped cocks was about the only thing I could use my mouth and tongue on, it kind of made up for not having anything to chew on. Of course if I'd actually chewed on a cock with my teeth I'd have been whipped or spanked by the instructor.

As the weeks passed, I soon began to note changes in Peter's appearance as the drugs ran their course. His nipples were swelling even as mine had, as was his ass. However, unlike myself, Peter's hips were also widening, considerably. I'd thought Monroe had intended to shrink Peter's penis, as he had mine, however that was not the case. If anything his penis seemed to be getting longer. I never got to see it erect, but flaccid it seemed to be hanging longer each week. His balls were also swelling. Within only two weeks they were as large and low as my own, and still growing. The other thing that was odd was that while he was developing more muscles, most seemed to be in the thighs, biceps/shoulders, neck and back. His chest muscles grew only slightly. His neck in particular seemed to be getting wider, and if I didn't know better, almost longer.

During the middle of the second week after Peter was enslaved, Master Simon changed the nature of the dildo machine. Each pattern sequence was given a number that was displayed on a little LED on the control unit. It would show the number and then go through the pattern. I'd then be shown the number and have to repeat the pattern. If I squeezed the correct ring I got a tingling sensation and if I squeezed wrong, the jolt. Once I knew which patterns were associated with which numbers, they stopped showing me the patterns with the numbers and just gave me the number. I then had to do the associated pattern. By the end of the fourth week I had learned over a dozen patterns perfectly.

Also it was at about this time that the fellatio class began moving on to other things. In addition to cocksucking they began teaching us about the different parts of the body and how best to use our mouths to instill pleasure in them. This was also interesting, but on the first day we didn't actually suck each other's cocks I started getting a little nervous.

For some reason, that day my mind didn't forget about the nervous hunger I'd been feeling. Normally, class took my mind off that and allowed me to forget about it for about a day or so. That day I didn't forget. By the evening before the next class, I was practically pacing my cell.

I was feeling short of breath and very worked up. I didn't know what was wrong, all I knew was that I needed something, and it wasn't my overdue shake. My stomach was beginning to feel queasy. I turned sharply as I heard the door open. Master Simon entered the room, alone. I came to attention, standing by my bed.

"Good slave. How is my pussy this evening?" Master Simon asked staring down at me.

I glanced up at him nervously, the anxiety of my hunger weighing on me. I licked my dry lips. "Fine, sir."

He smiled, his hand lightly itching the dense fur on his chest. My eyes followed his hand as it traced down his belly towards his jock. For some reason I couldn't tear my eyes from his hand, especially as he started rubbing the hard mound in his leather pouch. I swallowed hard. My dick was also stiff and feeling almost itchy. "Are your sure?" he asked. "You sure you're not thirsty?" His other hand reached behind him, releasing the pouch, letting it fall to the floor as his ten inch piece of meat burst free.

My eyes were finally free of his hand as they traced the throbbing, veined tube of flesh arching its way free of the thick forest of pubic hair around his groin. I licked my lips as I saw the moist slit of his penis. Still dry, but I could almost sense the hot fluid that wanted to pour out of it. Out of it, into my throat. I tried to lightly shake my head, but my nervous thirst seemed suddenly more intense, my mouth started to feel wet with saliva.

"Would you like to lick it?" Master Simon asked.

"Please sir." It had been almost five days since I'd sucked on another slave's penis, and Master Simon's was much bigger, better, than any of those. I could almost recall the taste of his cum, but not quite. I hadn't had it enough after I'd learned to distinguish the differences to really remember.

"Please what?"

"Please sir" I almost whined, I couldn't believe myself, "let me suck your cock." Almost as a third party observer I noted how badly I suddenly wanted to suck his mammoth manhood. I'd begun to enjoy it, but had never experienced such an overwhelming desire before. All I could do was stand there licking my lips, imagining how good his cock would taste. My own little dick starting to tingle in anticipation.

"Very, well. Do your best."

I fell to my knees, my eyes staring at the tip for only a brief moment before I kissed it. My tongue probed the slit as my lips caressed the crown. In went the head as my tongue covered every inch of the tip. I took in a bit more, each inch, my tongue covered every part of the dick. Savoring it. I could taste the bitter, yet nectar like, tang of his cock, the hot, swollen veins pulsing with life beneath my tongue. I swallowed it whole, stretching the back of my throat wide to accommodate its length and girth.

I sighed around his cock, as my tongue tickled the soft tube along the underside. Just having Master Simon's penis in my mouth seemed to go a long way towards relieving my nervousness. I began to relax as my mouth massaged his meat. I pulled off, and began nibbling the bottom side of his cock with my lips, lapping and pulling gently on the hairs at the base of the shaft. First I swallowed one nut, swirling it in my mouth, then I did the same for the second, and then gently sucked both into my mouth where my tongue massaged them, rolling in, around and between them.

As I released them to once again take Master Simon's organ in my mouth, he pushed me back against the bed, resting his hands on the wall above my bed. Soon he began pounding back and forth, fucking my face like a cunt hole. My tongue desperately trying to lap up sweet drops of precum from the tip as it slid forward and back in my throat. Suddenly, I felt the tip swelling on my tongue. He was coming. The sweet, sticky syrup poured from his cock, coating the back of my mouth and throat.

The taste was better than I remembered. Definitely better than any of the slaves. I swallowed as hard as I could with his penis still in my mouth. My tongue lapped the tip, getting the last drops. Unusually, he didn't withdraw, but continued to stay in my mouth.

"Did you like that?" He stared down into my upraised eyes. I could only nod slightly around his still heavy cock. "Are you still thirsty?"

I blinked. Now that he mentioned it, I was feeling better, that nervous edge I'd had was gone. The feeling of hunger/thirst was almost completely gone. I'm sure I looked puzzled.

"You needed it." He stated. I blinked up at him, not understanding. "Your body's addicted to it."

"Waaat?" I tried to say around his dick, which wasn't going down very fast in my mouth.

"Cum. You need it to survive. The drugs you've been given have altered the way certain neurotransmitters in your body behave. In order to function properly, they need certain proteins. The proteins allow your body to function properly, send all the right messages to your brain. Without them you go into withdrawal."

I was beginning to see where he was going. My stomach had a sick feeling in it. "The most common location for the particular proteins you need are in sperm. Thus in order to get your 'fix' you've gotta eat cum. Or take it up the ass, it doesn't matter if a man cums in your mouth or ass, either way it'll get into your system to give you what you need."

He smiled down evilly as I seemed to melt. "Of course, we've also seen to it that your own giant balls don't produce the sort of proteins that you need anymore, so you can't get it from yourself. From now on you'll have to get a sperm deposit every other day or so, or you'll start to feel like shit. And now that the dependency's established, it'll last forever, we can quit giving you the drugs that caused it."

His giant hands came down to gently hold my face as I felt tears beginning to trickle from my eyes. "You really are a slave now, a slave to your body's need for men's ball juice." I felt a small twitch in his penis, thinking he was coming again, but instead to my terror I felt something else starting to gush from his dick. Hot liquid, almost painfully bitter began deluging my throat. He was pissing in my mouth! I tried to shake my head and pull away, but it was useless his hands held my face securely. His thumbs pressed under my jaw, forcing me to swallow. His dick firmly wedged in my mouth, balls drooping against my chin, I had no choice.

"That's a good boy. Drink it all down like the good little slave cunt you are." Master Simon sighed as his piss cascaded down my unwilling throat, and my own tears down my cheeks. "No escape, no turning back, not now, not ever."





Later that evening Master Simon returned with the dildo machine. I'd been getting very good at it, but this evening I continually screwed up. I couldn't help thinking about how they'd made my body betray me. Some people got addicted to cigarettes or alcohol or drugs. These bastards had made me addicted to cum. I'd get sick and go into withdrawal if I didn't get someone to fuck either my face or ass every other day. Even if I ever escaped, how would I deal with that? I nearly got jolted out of my wits when I screwed up, thinking how most people I'd heard about with addictions actually got worse with time. Would I eventually have to get it multiple times per day to avoid withdrawal? I didn't know, I couldn't bear to know.

My mind was slightly taken off my own problems when I saw Peter the next morning. It had taken me a while, but I finally realized that for the last several days he'd been walking in all hunched over. Apparently the tremendous growth in musculature on his back was forcing him to bend over. He now walked bent over, hands hanging down, almost to the floor. His head still looked straight ahead, the neck muscles forcing him to keep his head tilted forward (upward if he'd been standing upright). I couldn't get over how much he was changing. Much more so than myself. His cock had to be over fourteen inches when erect, as it was most of the time I saw him anymore, his balls hung between his legs, swollen to the size of baseballs and in a sack stretching eight or so inches below his groin. He was also walking on the balls of his feet I noted. Was there something stuck up his ass that made him walk funny?

I tried to meet his eyes, but he refused. Looking away. His swollen pouty, almost puckered, lips unable to frown or smile. I blushed as I felt my dick start to harden looking at those lips, wanting to feel those lips engulf my tiny slavehood.

That evening, the dildo machine was brought in as usual, and I was pretty much back on track. However, afterwards I was surprised to be led down a couple hallways to a new lab room. This one had a stirrup table similar to the morning one, but the head of it was raised, so the person strapped in could look forward, between his legs. There were also large quantities of electronic instruments and a giant screen TV in the room. I couldn't figure out what the room was for.

Master Simon had me stand beside the table as a technician came up and began applying some sort of greasy stuff and little pads with wires on them all over my body. He put them on my nipples, my balls, a couple spots on my penis. They also went on several points on my thighs, buttocks, between my legs, under my arms, on my stomach. They were on different pressure points on my neck and various places on my head, including my temples, as well as on my back, feet and calves. Literally everywhere!

I was then carefully strapped in, firmly fastened down, just like in the mornings. The technician then brought forth a dildo like device with wires running from. He greased it up and put it in my ass with no problem. It looked and felt a lot like the dildo machine. At this point he brought a bottle of some thick liquid to my mouth and told me to drink it through a straw. After doing so, he fixed a dentist's gas mask over my nose and mouth. Headphones covered my ears.

He then went off to the side, and the lights in the room dimmed. Shortly I began to feel almost drowsy, very spacey. I know I couldn't keep two thoughts in my head for more than a few seconds. It was like one of those waking dream things you get when you're very tired. The next thing I knew pictures were flashing on the screen, noises and sounds bombarding my ears, smells my nose. But that wasn't the worst, accompanying this incomprehensible cacophony was a lot of sharp stings, pains and downright ecstatic twinges from the various electrodes and the dildo machine.

It was like a hyper version of the dildo machine with multimedia effects. The only problem was that I could make no sense of the patterns, if there were any. The sights, sounds, smells and pains and pleasures were almost too fast for me to distinguish. All I know is that it felt like shear hell. If it hadn't been for my drugged state, I'd have probably gone insane.

I have no idea how long this lasted, but it seemed like years, although probably only a couple hours. The whole thing made little sense, other than as an exercise in torture When it was done, I was led groggily back to my cell, where I promptly fell asleep.

Chapter 11

I didn't understand the purpose of the multimedia-full-body dildo machine, but they apparently had some evil plan in mind with it. At least they kept subjecting me to it every night for god knows how long. I had a hard time remembering details of each session afterward due to the liquid they made me drink. I think that some of them involved the patterns I had been learning from the dildo machine, and others actually involved technicians petting, stroking and occasionally striking me. The only effect it seemed to have was to make my evenings even more miserable, and to make me so exhausted that I fell asleep almost instantly on returning to my cell.

As I'd mentioned earlier, the cocksucking class turned into a general body pleasure class. We were taught all sorts of tricks for titillating the body. I finally began to understand and even appreciate some of the things Dr. Monroe and Master Simon had used on me to make me feel so good. I felt sort of a guilty pleasure in this class, like I was learning top secret information. The only real problem with the class was that there wasn't enough cocksucking. About every other class we would get to suck each other off, but that was it.

Master Simon would, thankfully I guess, stop by on the days we didn't suck each other, and allow me to suck his cock. If he hadn't, I probably would have gone crazy. As it was I was usually in need of it badly, every time he came around. And while I did like his cock, it really had good flavor, I wasn't thrilled with his visits. It wasn't because he was the one responsible for my needing his visits, either, as one might expect. The reason I wasn't completely appreciative of his visits was due to his nasty of habit of staying in my mouth after he was done, and then pissing in my throat.

He'd gotten it in his head that I was his toilet. Admittedly, I hadn't thought I'd ever like the taste of cum, and now I do; but I still don't think I'm ever going to like Master Simon pissing in me. For some reason I feel degraded when he does it, even though it's only in private. It makes me feel more like an object than a person, more like a slave. Maybe that's his purpose. Actually, the more I think of it as I write, the more I'm sure that really is his purpose.

The ballet classes also began to change their focus. Instead of stretching and basic ballet exercises we were now doing dances. However, I would have to doubt many of these dances would ever be done on a normal stage. Most of them involved thrusting various body parts outward in very suggestive manners. There were also lots of twisting and gyrating motions, all very graceful and sort of sinuous. I have to admit, watching some of the other slaves practice, often got me aroused. Although, to be honest, almost everything got me aroused at this point. I guess these sorts of erotic dances were the reason for the ballet class. It was something we could use to excite and arouse our masters and their guests.

It was about the second or third week since Master Simon had begun subjecting me to the full body nightly electro-torture thing that I noticed Peter walking into the enema/shot room on all fours. For weeks, he'd been progressively more bent over each morning. What I hadn't noticed was that along with the phenomenal muscle growth in his back and shoulders, his arms had grown as well. When he walked in, he was walking on the balls of his feet, legs sort of bent, haunch like, projecting his ass very nicely. He entered supporting himself on his hands, the bottoms of his fingers on the ground, bent back, so the top of his palm and thumb were on the ground as well. One way I knew his arms had grown was that even with my legs sort of haunched like that, I wouldn't have been able to easily walk on all fours, my arms, everyone's arms, were too short. Not Peter's, not anymore.

A chill raced down my spine. It was like he was reverting to some sort of animal that walked on all fours! As I thought of this, I noted, suddenly, how his arms were almost looking like fore legs, if I stretched my imagination slightly. Certainly his upper arms were as wide as my thighs had been before I came to the island. Also, as I'd mentioned, he'd experienced a lot of growth in his neck. His head just seemed to emerge from his shoulders, something like a dog, or pig or similar animal.

As he rotated around, waiting for help to get on the table, I caught a glimpse of his rear. His balls were huge, hanging low between his legs. Softball sized at least. His rock hard penis pressed tightly against his groin and stomach, easily fifteen inches long and three for four inches thick. His ass was also widely exposed, I could see his hole perfectly between the mounds of his ass, spread apart by the way he was walking. The hole looked very large and soft, I almost felt like I wanted to burrow into it. My dick was dripping precum on the floor as I stood beside my own table.

I'm not sure what was wrong with me. I was highly aroused by the sight of Peter, even so monstrous as he had become, and was still becoming. I was disgusted with myself, yet even so my mouth began to water as I tried to imagine what his cum would taste like. I could only imagine the huge piss slit on his monstrous cock. My imagination ran wild as I thought of being able to stick my hole tongue into it, to suck the giant head dry of cum. How much could those low hanging super nuts produce? I wondered almost feverishly. Master Simon brought me to my senses as he guided me to my table.

He smiled evilly at me, knowing what I was thinking. I hardly paid attention to him, not even seeing him. Just experiencing his presence as he strapped me down. As he did so, my hand nudged against his groin and I was shocked to realize his jock was down. My hand brushed against the tip of his erect, dripping cock. Feeling the wet touch of his slit, I felt myself boil over. I had gotten myself so worked up that my own little slavehood had started shooting cum all over my chest.

Master Simon simply chuckled as he moved between my legs, raised high by the stirrups. Quickly he rammed himself into my ass, dry. My breath became ragged as his strokes increased in speed, my channel lubricating itself with sweat as the heat of friction from his pounding cock massaged the aching walls. It had been a long time since he'd actually fucked me. The sensation was intense. I'd forgotten how intense. The motion of his cock literally felt like someone masturbating my ass. As if the channel of my ass was my dick turned inside out.

But that was only half of it, his deep thrusts kept hitting that electric spot. Over and over again until I swore I was seeing spots before my eyes. My breaths were sharp and raspy, my cock raging with blood, swollen tight even though I'd just come. Master Simon reached forward and twisted my left nipple. I gasped at the excruciatingly sweet sensation. I wanted to cry out, words leaving my mind to describe the sensation.

I couldn't begin to sort out the feelings. First his one hand twisting my left nipple, and then his other hand my right, his pounding cock massaging the walls of my cunt, the blasts of electricity ricocheting through my brain as he hit that special spot. His balls bouncing off my ass cheeks, the tickling of his pubic hair on my own balls as his groin mashed them into the valley between my legs. The nut squashing sensation alone would have made me gasp and moan, now it was only one more thing overwhelming my brain. My teenie weenie began spurting jism straight up, landing on Master Simon's hairy chest. Spurt after spurt until I thought I'd run dry.

Deep in my ass, I felt Master Simon's cock swell as he began discharging his cum into my bowels. His life giving sperm renewing me, ready to eliminate the growing hunger I'd been feeling. Giving me the man juice I needed to live. I moaned, almost sobbing.

Sometime after this point I began losing track of time. I think it was about two months after Peter had been enslaved, a little over thirty nights of hell with my ETV (Electrofuck Television) as I was calling my nightly torture session that I finally saw Monroe again. It was also during this period that I started getting occasional stomach cramps. It wasn't so much nausea, although occasionally I did get nauseous, it more like what I imagined an appendicitis would feel like, only not in my appendix.

They came and lasted for a few minutes, and then were gone, sometimes making me nauseous for ten or fifteen minutes afterward. There was no set time, sometimes during exercise, sometimes during a class or even during the dildo machine or the ETV. Often I'd wake up in the night. I eventually worked up the nerve to timidly ask the doctor, he asked me a few questions about where and how long and often, then just nodded and went back to his work. Apparently he wasn't surprised. That made me nervous. Was it part of my addiction?

One day, perhaps two weeks after I first started getting these cramps, after my no longer fellatio class, I was brought to a small examining room. My body was feeling extremely edgy due to lack of cum, we hadn't sucked each other off in two sessions, I had thought for sure we would today. While Master Simon had permitted me to suck his juice tube a few days ago, after the last class, it had been over two days and I was once again in need. The fact that I hadn't gotten any had me worried. I hoped Master Simon realized this and would let me go down on him. As I paced the room I kept thinking about Master Simon's dick, the beautiful, hairy, sack bulging with two juicy plums hanging below it. I had to stop my hands from squeezing together, in an involuntary effort to massage the imaginary orbs.

The door opened, and to my surprise both Dr. Monroe and Master Simon both walked in. Dr. Monroe was dressed in full leather regalia, chaps, straps and a tight black mesh of a jockstrap. My eyes were drawn immediately to the large object enclosed beneath the mesh. I'd never seen Dr. Monroe's cock before. And while it was tightly packed within the mesh, I could see it was good size.

I was momentarily diverted from this breathtaking sight, by the realization that the two men were also escorted by a couple of slaves (?) attendants. At least I guessed they were slaves. They were both completely hairless like slaves, and each wore collars. Additionally however, each wore small leather motorcycle caps, like Master Simon occasionally wore. What's more, while they weren't wearing leather straps they were wearing tight metal chains around each bicep, and crisscrossing their chest, like the leather straps the guards and Master Simon wore.

I was also shocked, and winced, to see that both had each of their nipples pierced. Small metal rings hung from each nipple. A light chain joining the two nipples. I'd seen people with pierced ears, even noses and sometimes a lip or eyebrow, but nipples? That was something only found in Skater or Goth mags. It was something kids talked about in school, but I hadn't thought anyone would actually do such a thing. Thinking about how painful it must be, I felt my own, large, very sensitive nipples begin to contract.

The oddest part though, was what they wore on their erect cocks. It was a device of several metal rings, held together along the top by a thin leather strap. It was much like a series of metal cock rings, similar to what my fellatio instructor wore. However, in addition to one large ring around the base of the cock and balls, there were several other rings running tightly up the length of the boys' cocks. The swollen members bulging between the rings, as if the rings were keeping the slave's rods from both getting any larger, and from losing blood and getting smaller.

I licked my lips looking at those swollen, trapped cocks, looking like they were almost ready to burst with delicious, life-giving cum. As was almost normal anymore, my own little member was hard and jutting out from my groin, my ball sack starting to tighten slightly.

"So, how is it doing?" Dr. Monroe asked Master Simon, bringing my attention back to his massively muscled body. Being with Master Simon all the time and only having the guards to compare to, I had forgotten how much larger and even more masculine Dr. Monroe was compared to Master Simon. Wiry black hairs, lightly peppered with grays, densely populating the pectoral mountains on his chest. His tightly muscled, well cut abs and thickly corded arms and legs, almost seemed to exude power and authority.

"Very good. He's near completion of phase two." Once again they were discussing me as if I wasn't there, standing at attention in front of them. I was getting used to it though. It was almost normal, almost seemed right. "Would you like a demonstration?" Master Simon asked.

"I already see the drool running down his chin as he stares at my cock." I almost moved to wipe my chin, ashamed, when I remembered I had not been given permission. My face flushed slightly. "Go ahead." Dr. Monroe told him.

"Turn and bend." Master Simon ordered me. Automatically, I complied, putting my arms on my knees, relaxing my ass cheeks. Master Simon stroked me lightly on the side of my ass, I felt my cheeks part, almost on their own.

I wasn't sure what Dr. Monroe, or Master Simon intended. What sort of demonstration was I to give. Did they want to see me dance? Suck cock? Neither seemed likely given my position.

Master Simon lightly stroked the bottom of the crevice between my ass cheeks, right above my balls. To my stunned surprise, I felt my asshole twitch and begin to dilate. My sphincter muscles were relaxing on their own, opening wide. I could feel it opening as if there was something in it, even though there wasn't. Master Simon blew gently into the hole. I clearly felt his breath on the lining of my hole. How had that happened? I didn't even know how to do that and here my body was doing it on its own!

"Nice. I can see right up the chute." Dr. Monroe said.

I felt a light sensation as Master Simon stuck a finger up my hole, only lightly brushing the wide open sides. His other arm reached around to stroke my right nipple and chest in some pattern. Before I'd hardly registered the touch, I felt my sphincter contracting on the finger. Then to my shame and total surprise, I felt my ass begin pattern number 8 from the dildo machine. On it's own! Without me even thinking about it, my ass was massaging his finger.

My breath became haggard at what was happening hit me. And with the pleasure I felt, feeling his finger inside me. Master Simon was able to control my body, make it do things without my conscious thought! I was just starting to grasp this when I felt another tapping below my asshole, and felt it widen to let the finger out.

Master Simon turned me around, and had me stand up. I stared into his eyes in shock at what he'd done. He said nothing, just stared back with no expression. With his left hand he unbuckled his jock, letting it fall to the floor. My eyes automatically sought his swelling manhood. With his right hand he began gently petting the side of my chest and under my left nipple. I felt my jaw relax and let it fall open.

As his meat swelled to full size, I felt my lips twitch slightly in anticipation. I vaguely noted spit dropping from my open mouth, falling on my chest. Master Simon motioned me to bend down and begin sucking his cock.

I did, shifting my feet wider for balance I brought my mouth down around the rigid tube. I suckled it as if it were a teat, tenderly trying to nurse some fluid from it. My hunger was intense, had been intense, but the complete control of my body by Master Simon had seemed to turn me on more, make me hungrier. As I nuzzled my nose in the thick tangle of groin hair, the back of my throat massaging the tip of Master Simon's cock, I felt him reach over my back and massage the area around my asshole.

I moaned around Master Simon's prick as I suddenly felt sweaty, the wall linings of my ass starting to sweat, even as I felt the muscles opening. Nervous spasms raced through my belly as I felt my inner ass muscles spasming out of my control.

I realized that Dr. Monroe had come up behind me as I felt his hand gently massage the edge of my wide open ass hole. His finger reached inside slightly, drawing the pooling moisture out, spreading over my crack.

"I love, a hot dripping boy pussy." I heard Monroe say. And then I grunted around Master Simon's cock as I felt Dr. Monroe's gargantuan meat slide in. I couldn't see it now that it was erect and free, but it was easily half again as thick as Master Simon's. It didn't hurt, but I did feel it pushing the moist walls of my slavecunt wider than ever before. In it slid, without a trace of friction, even though I know he used no lubricant.

Slowly at first and then with increasing rhythm Monroe's throbbing dick plowed in and out of my slick hole. As I began to get the rhythm, I tried to synchronize it with my sucking on Master Simon's cock. I felt Master Simon reach under me to my chest and stroke me gently again. As before, I felt my ass muscles begin to contract in a pattern I'd learned from the machine. It wasn't trivial to do the pattern on a cock that kept sliding in and out, but I'd tried it once before, when Peter had fucked me, and now I was better at it. Even so, it was really out of my control, since my ass muscles were opening and closing on their own. I heard Dr. Monroe sigh loudly behind me, his hands gripping my ass firmly as he plowed it.

Master Simon began to direct my sucking by pulling on my long hair. Up and down, I was having trouble keeping the double rhythms in sync, but eventually just let go. I let the two men use me as they would, I stopped trying to control it and let it happen.

The shocks running up my spine from Dr. Monroe hitting my sweet spot, while massaging my ass lining quickly began to have its effect. Within no time my weenie was shooting cum on my chest and beyond. Vaguely I noted a few spurts hitting Master Simon's chaps even.

My orgasm seemed to go on forever as Dr. Monroe continued to massage my cunt with his huge cock, lightning striking my brain with every deep thrust. My tongue tangling over the bulging head of Master Simon's rod. As if on cue, I suddenly felt, simultaneously, both Master Simon and Dr. Monroe beginning to cum. The motion stopped, both at deepest thrust. Both heads swelling, bursting with ripe juice. Warm streams of cum filling both my throat and bowels at the same time. I closed my eyes, feeling myself filled at both ends by these two huge burly men. Filling me, fulfilling me.

I must have blanked out for a few moments, the next thing I knew, it was the other man fluid filling me from both ends. I felt a sensation similar to the gushing water of the cleansing enema in my ass, and a similar sensation in my throat. They were pissing in me! From both ends, a double sided toilet! I struggled vainly, but I was spitted on both ends, held firm by strong hands. Impaled by softening cocks both pouring out their body's waste into my own. Tears streaked down my face as it finally hit me. I finally realized that I was just a hole to these men. Two holes. Holes to be filled with whatever they pleased, whenever they pleased, however they pleased.





The next few days were something of a blur. My mind almost felt numb after the session with Dr. Monroe. I was slowly losing complete control over me. They were shaping my body to their ends. They had taken control of not only my physical development, but control of my body too. They were taking control of its responses away from me, training it to serve their appetites, whether I wanted it to or not. This scared me. What scares me more however, is the calmness I feel about it. I sometimes find myself just accepting it, I don't get as upset as I should. Sometimes it almost feels like it is the right thing. How things should be. In some ways, it feels freeing, as if I am being absolved of responsibility for my body's actions.

The other night, Master Simon added a new level of complexity to the dildo machine. He is once again applying the nipple clamps to my tits and balls. True, I get them during the upper body weight machine, but this is almost worse. The pain in my tits and balls from the weights distracts my concentration from memorizing the patterns. If I don't force myself to do the patterns automatically without thinking, the pain distracts me, and then I get shocked. The ball weights can't go through the hole in the chair because of the dildo, so they instead go off the front end, pulling my nuts forward.

About two weeks after my session with Dr. Monroe, I was shocked when Dr. Lowry freed me from the table and left me standing all alone with no guards in the room as he released and helped Peter down from his table. Dr. Lowry smiled at me. "I have to be gone for a minute to get Master Simon. If you want, you may 'talk' to your lover." With that he left the room, leaving Peter and I alone. I was so shocked I just stood there for a moment.

I looked down at Peter, he was standing quietly by his table, on all fours. "How are you Peter?" I asked. His head swiveled towards me, and he shifted slightly, bringing his body to face me, since his head didn't turn very far. It emerged almost directly from his shoulders, his neck almost indistinguishable from his trapezius muscles. (I'd learned a lot of anatomy from overhearing guards in the gym instructing their slaves). He blinked his eyes at me and made some sort of gurgling noise.

Concerned I walked up to him. As I did he began gently rubbing his bald head on my thigh, like a dog wanting to be petted. I got down on my knees, to look at him on eye level. As I looked carefully at his face for the first time, I realized that his mouth was very puckered, a tight round hole underneath his nose. Further his whole mouth and nose seemed longer, almost snoutlike. "What did you say?" I asked, he made some more strange noises.

Suddenly concerned, I tried to pry open his mouth by putting my finger in it. Instead of opening, my finger slid into his mouth, almost like Master Simon's prick sliding into my ass. My eyes widened as I felt the soft wet moist hole my finger had entered. Peter began automatically sucking on it. As I moved my finger around I could find no sign of teeth! They'd pulled his teeth, I could feel his gums, but even they were hard to feel. His cheek muscles had swollen inward until his mouth felt like a wet satiny hole, his tongue bending and twisting over my finger in ways I could never manage. His whole mouth was tight and flexing around my finger. It was more like a pussy than a mouth.

I pulled my finger his mouth, unable to comprehend what was happening to him. As I shifted my weight, I noticed his hands. Apparently they'd performed some sort of surgery, They'd shortened his fingers! They were mere stubs, more like toes, protruding from the bottom of his hands. The more I looked at them, the more I realized they almost resembled paws. While they were turning me into a pleasure slave, they were turning Peter into some sort of sick distorted pleasure animal. He whined at me, I patted him on the head as he rested it against my knee, every bit like a pet.

I stood, running my hands down his bulging back muscles towards his flanks, noting the incredible growth. His back looked almost strong enough to mount and ride like a horse. Peter stood up more on all fours as I stood. I realized that standing up, his mouth and ass would be at almost the perfect level for a man the height of Master Simon, or the guards, to fuck without having to bend.

I should have been horrified at the monster they were creating, a sick parody of a man, but instead the overall effect was oddly attractive. If I simply looked, and didn't think of this creature as Peter, it was almost arousing. In fact as I noted the huge sack containing monster nuts hanging between his legs, I felt myself getting hard, wanting to stick my penis in either his mouth or ass. I shook my head trying to clear it and knock some sense into myself.

As I stood, Dr. Lowry returned with Master Simon and the guards. "Have a good reunion?" he asked. He said it so straightforwardly that I almost might have thought him serious. But, how could he mean it in any manner but a cruel sadistic one. I didn't trust myself to speak so I simply stood at attention. All the while thinking how lucky I was that they'd chosen to do to me what they had, and not what they'd done to Peter. I didn't know whether to hate them for what they done to Peter, or to be grateful for what they hadn't done it to me. Master Simon and the guards led me to my first class as I thought about this.

Chapter 12

Perhaps the biggest turning point in my life in the dungeon came about two or three not-felatio classes after I had made my unnerving discovery of what they were doing to Peter. I was very edgy, I hadn't had any cum in three days, and I was worried, hoping, as I often did, that I'd get some that day. A cramp had caused me to wake up a few minutes before my guards came for the morning, one of the few times they didn't wake me up.

As usual I was cleaned up and out, but after that things were very different. Instead of going to the stirrup table room for my enema, I was taken back to my cell. I was confused and not just a little bit nervous about what this meant. When I arrived at my cell, I was even more surprised to find a shake there, waiting for me. While puzzled by this totally unprecedented series of events, I none the less gulped down my shake.

Shortly after I had drunk the shake, my door opened and in walked Master Simon carrying a small bag. "Good morning little one." He glanced pointedly at my weenie. I stood silently at attention beside my bed.

"Today is a very big day for you. I hope you are ready for it." He looked me up and down a couple times. "Dr. Monroe asked if you were ready. Frankly I told him you weren't far enough along in your training as you should be for what he wants. However, I also told him since you are a natural, a true born slave, I thought you might pass. I told him I thought you could handle it, make me proud." He stared me in the eye, I gulped nervous about whatever he might be leading up to.

"You won't let me down now will you? You don't want to make me look bad in front of Dr. Monroe do you?"

I gulped. "No sir, I won't sir, I don't sir. What must I do sir?" I asked timidly.

"What you were born for." He ran his hand gently down my side, causing me to twitch slightly at the sensation. "You're going to serve."

"Serve sir?"

"At the mansion. Dr. Monroe has some very special guests, guests who are very particular in what they want. Dr. Monroe thinks you would be perfect for them, so he's giving you to them for the next couple of days, for them to play with, while they're visiting."

This was it. This was the sort of thing I had been dreading. They were finally going to use me. Make me do the stuff they'd been training and shaping me for. They needed a sex toy, and I was it. I had known it had to be coming, I'd just blocked it from my mind. At least he wasn't selling me, yet. I hoped.

As if reading my mind, Master Simon continued. "This is a test. A very important test. We will use what we learn from this test to complete your training. You'll return to your normal schedule, or a modified one, once this test is over."

"Well, let's get you ready." Master Simon began pulling things from his bag. The first was a new set of cuffs and collar. He took the old ones off, and put these on. They worked the same as before, locking wise, but they had shiny new metal studs on them. Additionally he put a single studded leather strap tightly around my right bicep. The next item was a rather small metal cock ring that he tried put around my cock and balls. It was a single metal ring however, and while it would have fit around the base of my cock and balls easily, he couldn't get my swollen testicles through the ring, they were way too large. "Damn, afraid of that." He reached into his bag again and brought out a very small leather strap, which he snapped tightly around the base of my cock and balls. I'd never worn a cock ring before and it felt very odd. As he was putting it on I got hard, and afterwards my dick felt bloated. It also served to push my balls a little more forward from between my legs, more on display.

The final item was a pair of sandals with thin leather straps that wrapped in a crisscross fashion up my calves to circle just below my knee. I remembered seeing pictures of people in the bible wearing such sandals. I hadn't realized they still made them. After lacing them up, Master Simon pulled out a brush and quickly began brushing my hair. He brushed it until it was fluffy, almost frizzy and cascading over my shoulders.

"Gotta get my prize toy prettied up. That's why no other stuff, just a good cleaning, some food and then dress up time." He finally put a thin leather strap around my forehead to keep my hair in place, and from getting in my eyes. "Good boy." He tweaked my right nipple a couple times. I shuddered and let go a small moan as he did so. I couldn't help it, and he knew it.

He fastened a small chain leash to my collar and had the guards open the door. He then proceeded down the hall, leading me on the chain. We took a completely different route this time. One I'd never seen before. I was completely lost after several halls and two elevators, when finally we reached elevator doors that were different. Most were painted a white color. These were bronze, both the doors and the threshold around the doors.

Master Simon led me onto the elevator and we headed upwards. When the elevator doors opened again, I was in a different world. Apparently I was in the palace I'd seen from the plane. Before us stretched a magnificently wide marble hallway, with a thick rich woven carpet running down the center. Every few feet down the corridor was some piece of art. Usually a statue of a young boy or girl, sometimes a painting or odd sculpture. I didn't know much about art but the stuff looked expensive to me.

I was led down the long hallway, then down a smaller one to a normal sized doorway. Master Simon opened the door quietly and led me into a small waiting room. There was a blue curtained doorway on the other side of the room, curtains drawn. As we entered I could hear people talking on the other side. I couldn't make out words at first, but then as Master Simon stopped near the curtain, I could make out Dr. Monroe's voice.

My stomach was butterflies. This was it. I was going to have to do stuff with some strange man, or men? What would they be like? Would I like them? What would they make me do? I didn't know any of this and I was nervous. I tried to listen to get an idea. At least they were speaking English. I heard Dr. Monroe say.

"Well, I'm glad you young men enjoyed your afternoon." Afternoon? I thought it was morning. My time schedule was off. "Now that you've seen the sights, seen what we offer, are you ready for the special surprise your father has asked me to prepare?"

I couldn't quite make out the response but I was sure it was positive. "It's not every father that would give such an expensive coming of age present to his sons. Jeff I know you enjoyed yours, you've come back." I blanched at those words. My hard penis went soft, fast, cock ring not withstanding. It couldn't be. God no. Please, I begged. Not this. How could it be? "...however, this year, for you Tom, your dad has a special treat. Isn't that right Richard?" I thought I was going to feint. Master Simon had noted my reaction and put a firm hand on my shoulder, squeezing hard.

"You are a slave, to be used by your master, however he pleasesYour feelings are not to get in the way. Remember, slaves have no pride and can therefore have no shame." He stared into my eyes as he whispered this to me. "If you keep that in mind, that you are only a slave, a piece of property, like a couch, you will get through this much easier. If you still think of yourself as a human being, someone with pride, someone capable of being humiliated, it will be much harder for you. Trust me." Master Simon told me.

"Tom, your slave for the weekend. For you to use as you please." Dr. Monroe stated as Master Simon led me through the curtain. I closed my eyes as I entered, unable to look at my best friend, his brother, nor his father. How could Dr. Monroe do this to me?

I heard an indrawn breath, I think from Jeff, as I was led into the room. No one else said anything. I slowly opened my eyes, following Master Simon. He stopped and stepped to the side holding my leash. I kept my eyes down at the floor, unable to look up and see the people I knew to be in the room.

"Damn." Jeff muttered. "I can't believe it. You told me dad, but I couldn't believe it."

"Jason?" I heard Tom murmur.

"No." Mr. Everett said. "It's not Jason any more. Jason is dead, the world knows that. The person you thought you knew is dead, instead what we have here is a slave. Like the others you've seen today. A toy for your pleasure."

I looked up slightly, I could see Tom, Jeff and their father standing in the room, all three wearing shorts and Hawaiian style shirts. Tom was staring at me intently. "Can I touch him?" He asked, his breathing sounding heavy.

"Go ahead." Dr. Monroe said from behind me. "He's yours for the weekend to do with as you please." Master Simon handed Tom my leash.

"Happy birthday, son." Mr. Everett said. I blinked, no longer capable of shock. A trip to Dr. Monroe's island had been the big rite of passage Tom's father had promised. A chance to fuck a slave, to have complete control over another person for a weekend. What a bizarre and phenomenal present! The only problem was that I was the present.

Tom walked up to me slowly, staring at my large nipples and then my small cock and monstrous balls. "He's a slave huh?" He reached out a hand, one I knew so well and brushed it across my right nipple. I blinked and couldn't stop a small gasp.

"I always told you the guy was fag." I heard Jeff say. "I told you, you shouldn't hang out with such a pansy. Now look at him. He's a fucking cuntboy for real. Look at that weenie. Nothing there, no wonder he likes getting it up the ass, he can't give any." I felt my face blush as Jeff said this. Tom reached down and casually played with the tip of my penis. I gasped at the touch, my cock quickly reswelling under his touch.

"See son?" Mr. Everett spoke up. "He's a cockslave. Look how he reacts, you just touch him and he gets excited, like a woman. I always knew this would be the best place for him. Now you see him as he really is."

"But, I've seen him naked before. He didn't look like this in the locker room." Tom protested.

"No," Dr. Monroe said, "but as his true nature was revealed here, so did his body change, shedding its old costume to assume its true form. This is how he is meant to look. Gorgeous isn't he."

"Damn." Jeff said again.

"We've helped him, shown him to himself, and his body came along on its own." Dr. Monroe said. Tom leaned in slightly and picked up one of my balls, rolling it in the sack. My legs bent slowly under the exquisite feeling. He squeezed it and I gasped, my eyes almost rolling up. I couldn't control myself, the sensation was too much.

As Tom massaged my balls, his father walked up behind him, reaching over his shoulder to run a finger over my right nipple. He petted it in the same way Master Simon did, making my legs turn watery. "See how he enjoys it?" Mr. Everett asked Tom. "He's getting weak in the knees. J.T. and I pegged him early on as a fuck toy."

"How?" Tom asked eyes locked on his father's finger playing with my nipple. "How did he end up here?"

"Shit, even his father knew what a perfect slave the boy would be. He and I had spent long hours with J.T. here on the island. James was a true connoisseur of slave flesh. When the cost of his visits began to escalate beyond his ability to pay, he sold the boy to J.T." My stomach did a flip flop at Mr. Everett's words. It wasn't like that, even Dr. Monroe had said so.

"Sold his son?" Jeff asked his father dubiously.

"Essentially, on a promissory note. James was addicted, and running out of cash. However it was also clear, even to him, that his son would never be a real man. Unlike the two fine young men I've raised." He smiled at Jeff. "He knew his boy was only good for one thing."

"Pleasing real men?" Jeff asked.

"Exactly." Mr. Everett replied as his fingers slid over the curves of my breast. Tom had started tugging on my balls, while massaging them. I closed my eyes, the sensation taking all my concentration.

Tom dropped my balls. I opened my eyes to look into his. Trying to see what he was thinking. He smiled at me, but not nicely. "Turn and bend, slave." My friend ordered. I frowned slightly at him.

"You heard your master, turn and bend boy." Mr. Everett ordered, squeezing my nipple, hard. I slowly turned, Mr. Everett releasing my tit. I bent as instructed.

"God, what a fuckin great ass." Jeff said softly. Mr. Everett's hand caressed my thigh as his son, Tom, gently, hesitantly, began rubbing the back of his finger down my crack. "Have you ever seen such a fuckin great set of globes on a guy before?" Jeff asked. "Shit, I don't think I've fucked a girl with buns like those." He grabbed my ass in one big hand squeezing. "It's all muscle too, not fat like on a real bitch."

My body spasmed suddenly as I felt Tom's finger brushing along my puckered hole. Without my control, I felt my hole begin to widen on its own. "Would you look at that! It's fucking opening at Tom's touch." Jeff exclaimed. I felt the nail on Tom's finger gently scraping the edge of my hole, my breath began to come in ragged spurts.

After a few minutes of stroking, Tom pulled his finger back. Nearer his face, I think. "It's getting wet!" He stated in an amazed tone.

"Hot damn!" Jeff exclaimed, apparently of limited vocabulary. "It lubricates, just like a real fuckin cunt. Fuck it Tom, fuck it soon so I can get a piece of this sweet ass." Tom's finger slid back into my hole, all the way. I moaned out loud as he stroked the wide open sides of my boy pussy. I couldn't stop myself, the sensation of my best friend massaging my hole was too strong.

Mr. Everett yanked back on my long hair, pulling my head upward. He was now in front of me. I found myself staring straight into the tenting mound of his khaki shorts. I could easily make out the hard ridge of his cock beneath the shorts, pushing them out from his groin. My tongue wet my lips, unconsciously. I was suddenly reminded of my hunger. As I felt my mouth begin to water, all I could thing of was swallowing that hard piece of meat hidden by the brown shorts in front of me.

Mr. Everett pushed his tented shorts against my mouth. My tongue licked the hard bump that was the tip of his throbbing cock, through the pants. I tried to get my mouth around it, but the damn fabric was taught, like a tent roof, and kept my lips at bay. I felt a small whine of frustration leave my throat. He ground his groin into my face.

"He's ready for it. Are you?" Mr. Everett asked Tom. He released me pushing me away slightly. Tom's finger popped from my chute with a wet slurp. He pushed me to the side. I turned and stood upright to look at the boy who been my best friend.

Tom glanced at Dr. Monroe and Master Simon. "Well, if there is nothing else, we'll leave you to your fun." Dr. Monroe said, and the two left through the curtain. After a few moments I heard the door in the other room open and close.

I looked uncertainly to my friend, I couldn't believe he could do this to me. He was staring at my tits again, licking his lips. With both hands he began slowly unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it off over his shoulders. I couldn't help but notice his broad chest, filling out nicely from football practice and weight lifting. Nothing like mine, but strong, well defined, hard muscled with sharp edges. A fine pattern of light brown hair spread from the center of his chest over each pectoral, swirling around the fairly small, tight nipples.

As his hand reached down and unfastened his pants. I knew that the boy; no make that man, unquestionably a man; who had been my best friend was about to fuck me. Fuck me like the slave I was. I stared at Tom's hairy groin, his dick rigid and nearly seven inches long. I couldn't help but think how I might have looked similar at this point, if it hadn't been for Dr. Monroe. I felt my eyes start to moisten. Even so, my mouth was watering almost uncontrollably as I stared at his throbbing manhood. His marble sized nuts almost tight in their sack against his prick.

He walked over to me. His hand reached up, at first I thought he was going to strike my face, but he only ran his fingers through my long curly hair. His other hand caressed the side of my breast, almost under my arm. His hand came down to flick his fingers over the tip of my swollen slavehood, bloated, with veins bulging from the cock ring, I felt the slimy sensation of my own precum as he spread it around the tip of my little cock.

His eyes met mine. The hand in my hair came to rest on my shoulder. With increasing force, continually staring me in the eye, my former best friend forced me down, onto my knees. As my eyes came on level with his cock, I had to break eye contact. My hunger was too intense, I couldn't help it. I had to look at his thick, stiff shaft. The pale skin, blue veins pulsing, the soft pink tip, slit pulled wide by the taught skin of the head, it was beautiful.

I couldn't wait for permission, my head slid foreword as my tongue stretched forth to dart within the narrow slit. Tom gasped as my tongue gently tickled the skin inside his piss slit. My lips stretched forward to gently engulf the tip of the pink head, my tongue sliding up and down the slit. I hooked my lips around the crown and gently swirled my tongue over the head. With my right hand I began stroking the brown haired orbs clustered tightly against his cock, my left reaching to cup his firm tight ass in a tight grip.

Tom's hands reached around to grasp my head, pushing me down on his dick. Gently I drug the edges of my teeth down his prick all the while my tongue swirled around the head. As my nose nestled into the brown forest of his pubic hair, I caught a whiff of the intoxicating boy-man musk, tangy yet strong. I used my right thumb and outer fingers to gently massage his balls while my index and 'fuck' finger gently tickled the tight skin between his balls and ass.

"Oh, god! I've never felt anything so intense. This is fuckin incredible." Tom shouted to his brother and father. Out of the corner of my eye, I noted Jeff pulling off his clothes. Jeff was of stockier build, thick chested with a relatively thick patch of red hair in the center of his chest, spreading out lightly over each pectoral. As he peeled off his shorts I caught a glimpse of man meat a bit shorter, but much thicker than Tom's. I lost sight of Jeff as he moved behind me.

I felt more than heard, Jeff kneel down behind me. I felt one of his hands on my right ass cheek, while what must have been his father's on my left. Slowly the two men pulled my cheeks apart, exposing my hole. I felt it quivering in time with my sucking on Tom's cock. Jeff's thumb began massaging my hole, pushing in, harder and less gentle than Tom had been. Then I felt another thumb beside his. Jeff and his father were spreading my asshole wide with their thumbs, roughly kneading the edges. I tried to suck in air around Tom's throbbing cock as I felt one the two men's fingers slide between their thumbs and up my hole, deeper in.

I withdrew my mouth from Tom's dick and heard him sigh in contentment. My lips traveled down his cock, gently nibbling until they reached his balls. With my hand I shoved each ball into my mouth, my tongue playing around them, enveloping them. I used my index finger to gently stroke the slit of Tom's prick, while my nose nudged the soft tube running along the bottom of his cock. I snorted as I felt both Jeff and his father each shove two fingers up my cunt, four fingers, rubbing, massaging, spreading.

I let go of Tom's balls and returned my lips to the head of his cock. As I began to engulf it once again, Tom spoke up. "No," he pushed my head away, "turn and bend. I wanna fuck your ass little cunt boy." I felt the fingers withdraw from my ass. I stood slowly, turning and bending over. As I did, I came face to face with the two other men, both cocks hard and primed. Mr. Everett's was about the same length as Tom's, but with Jeff's thickness. Dark brown pubic hairs stretched up from his groin, tracing along his ridged stomach, up and over strong, well etched pectorals. Here and there a few glints of gray.

Tom's hand's spread my cheeks. I gasped as he rammed in hard. I would have to guess it was his first time. It hurt mildly, because the angle was off, but my hole was so wet it slid in smoothly. "Ohhh. yeah!" he moaned.

"Try this." Tom's father told him, he stroked my chest like Master Simon had a few weeks back. Once again I felt my ass muscles start one of the dildo patterns without my control.

"Oh lord, how the fuck is he doing that?" It was pattern ten, a complicated series of contractions alternating head and base. It took a couple repetitions for me to match the rhythm of his plunges with the pattern, but soon I had it right. Tom's young cock plowing my ass, while I played it like a flute, felt damn good. He wasn't always hitting the tingling spot, but when he did lights lit up the inside of my eyes.

Eyes closed I felt first one and then a second cock nudging on my lips. Automatically they opened. I had to open my eyes as both cocks came sliding into my mouth. Stretching my cheeks until I thought they'd rip, I couldn't fit much more than the two heads in my mouth. Jeff and his father had their arms around each other, hip to hip cocks side by side as they plowed into my face.

This was new! I had never had two cocks in my mouth before. Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to taste the two hot loads of cum contained within the throbbing rods, let them mingle on my tongue, enhancing the flavor. In they slid and my tongue did all it could to cover both, but with my mouth spread wide over the two hugely thick cocks it was hard.

Tom reached around beneath my stomach and began yanking hard on my big balls. "Fuck, what big eggs," was all Tom said. Suddenly I felt Tom's cockhead swell. My best friend was cumming in my slavecunt. He was shooting his hot manjuice up my channel, filling me with his thirst quenching virginal manfluid. As I felt the warm sensation, even as he hit my hot spot for the last time, I felt my own little slave cock give up its load, spurting all over my chest.

"Damn good slave." I heard Jeff say. "He comes when his pussy gets fucked. That's the way a true bitch does it." He reached down below my chest and twisted one of my nipples, hard, causing me to sputter on the two cocks in my mouth. I felt Tom pull out.

Mr. Everett and Jeff also pulled their cocks from my mouth. As I started to stand, Mr. Everett pushed me backwards about five feet, pressing my ass against a table. "Up," he ordered me. I hopped up on the table and Jeff pushed my back down, forcing me to lie down.

Mr. Everett then spread my legs, lifting them up in the air, almost like on the stirrup table. He put one leg over each of his shoulders. He reached between my legs with both arms and picked up my balls, one in each hand. "Damn good sized eggs." He gave them a tight squeeze, causing me to wheeze in pain as tears came to my eyes.

Without warning he rammed his cock into my ass. It slid in smoothly, my channel still hot and moist from Tom's fucking. He nodded to Jeff who stroked my sides, and I once again felt myself starting to massage Mr. Everett's cock, lodged in my cunt. In and out he fucked me, a continual massage along the sides of my ass as I squeezed his cock in patterns I knew by heart. Within only a minute or so, I felt my own little cock once again swelling as the sensation in my ass excited my body. Mr. Everett began gently squeezing my balls in time with my pattern. The combined sensation was so strong that I suddenly realized my ragged breaths were coming in the same rhythm.

Jeff climbed up onto the table, his big fat cock swaying heavily above my chest. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table above my head. His thick cock moved in on my lips. Without even thinking, my mouth popped open to receive his thick manhood. His tightly curled patch of red pubic hair was shoved up my nose as his throbbing cock sunk to the back of my throat.

He began fucking my face like a pussy, in and out almost in time with his father's thrusts in my ass. My forehead and eyes covered by the weight of his soft, just starting to grow ex-jock belly.

I shuddered around the thick meat as I felt Tom's lips sucking on my left nipple Unable to control myself with the sensations overwhelming my body I began sobbing and moaning my pleasure around Jeff's cock as it rammed the back of my throat. My tits contracted all the way, Tom's teeth gently tugging on one, while his hand harshly twisted the other between thumb and forefinger. His father's big, furred hands squeezing my balls as he fucked my tight boy cunt, sending shudders down my spine when he hit the electric spot. All the while Tom's brother kept plowing my mouth like a field, his balls bouncing off my chin.

Jeff grunted suddenly and shoved his cock deep into my throat, almost gagging me. As he did, I felt the crown enlarge and throb as he spilled his hot cum down my throat, the billions of tiny sperm charging boldly into my gut. Even as my throat muscles spasmed around his throbbing member, I felt his father's prick swell as I took a final squeeze of it with my ass and then he was pouring his hot cream into my ass. I could just imagine the big man's sweet juices mingling with his son's in my ass, eventually meeting up with the load from his other son sliding down my throat.

Mr. Everett withdrew, letting go of my balls. Jeff on the other hand simply collapsed on the table in exhaustion, the full weight of his groin and underbelly pushing against my face. It was hard to breath, with his still engorged member down the tube of my throat and his groin pressed tightly against my nose. I winced suddenly as I heard Jeff fart noisily and then shuddered as I felt my stomach start to expand slightly. Jeff was pissing down the back of my throat! Washing his come down with his piss. I couldn't taste it because it was going directly down my throat to my stomach.

"Good piss pot too." Jeff said as he pulled himself off my face, his cock slowly withdrawing from my slack lips.

"You pissed in him?" Tom said incredulously.

"Yeah, sorry, I shoulda let you go first, but I got carried away and had to piss bad. All those beers earlier." I looked over to Tom, who was handling his still swollen cock.

"No problem, I gotta piss too." As Jeff got off the table, Tom jumped up on it, his legs spread on either side of my chest. I got a fantastic view between his legs, my still excited cock pulsing at the sight of his half swollen member and hairy ballsack swaying above my head and the tight line of fur running from his balls up his crack. "Open wide," Tom ordered. I shook my head. I didn't like piss.

"You heard the man, slave." Mr. Everett grabbed my balls and yanked hard. As he did so I gasped in pain, my mouth going wide. Suddenly a long yellow stream of piss began flowing from the head of Tom's cock. I closed my eyes as it splashed off my cheeks, dousing my hair. Quickly he adjusted his aim and the bitter fluid began filling my throat. My nose was clogged by piss, so I couldn't breath through it and so had to begin swallowing in order to breath. I reopened my eyes, meeting Tom's above the stream pouring from his cock as he guided it with his hand. There was a cruel smile of satisfaction on his face as he stared down at me, his toilet.

As the last few drops of the stream dripped onto my chin, he stood up on the table and looked down at me. "Why Tom?" I asked him softly.

"Why? Because I can." He put his foot on my still hard little penis and began applying pressure.

"But we were friends." I gasped at the increasing pressure.

"Were. But that was before I knew what you were. A little fuck toy. A faggot toilet to please real men, like myself. No real man would stoop as low as you have." He swayed his hips side to side, shaking his mildly engorged cock over my face, a drop of piss falling onto my cheek. "Let himself be used like we just used you. Would modify his body like you have. Fuck you've got a trained pussy between your legs.

"There were rumors about you at school, I was stupid and didn't listen, but now I see the truth about you." His heel was digging painfully, yet almost exquisitely against my balls. "I'd never realized you had such a dinky tool." He ground my penis harder. "No wonder you like getting fucked. And those tits," he pointed at his nipples with his softening prick. "Bigger than most girls I know."

"He's also a much better fuck." Jeff said as he stepped up beside the table and began twisting my nipples back and forth.

"It." Mr. Everett corrected. "It's a slave. Not a he. The word 'he' implies a man. This little toy is anything but." Tom began moving his foot back and forth over my dick and balls, maintaining his pressure. I let a slight moan, grunt like sound escape my lips at the sensation. It hurt, but it also felt incredibly good. It made me feel almost tense with an odd sensation. I felt something starting to ooze slightly out my asshole, probably their cum.

"Turn your head." Mr. Everett ordered. I turned my head to face him. He grabbed my hair and pulled me towards him. His cock was half soft, he brought it towards my mouth and without thinking, I opened my lips to let it in. I started to lick the slit but my tongue was pushed away as a hard stream of piss began shooting from the tip. It began running out my lips before he twisted my hair, painfully, and I started swallowing as fast as I could.

"As you've seen, my men, there is nothing like a nice boytoilet to relieve yourself. I suggest that when you go to bed tonight, Tom, you have this shitcan wrap its lips around your cock and keep them there all night. If you have to piss in the night, you can just let go without having to get up."

"Sounds good to me." Tom said.

"And you will drink it slave. If I find any piss on the sheets the next morning you'll be punished." Mr. Everett said to me as I kept swallowing his massive load of piss. My stomach was starting to feel bloated from all the piss I'd swallowed. I was wondering if I could hold much more.

As if reading my mind, Jeff began digging his hands and fists into my swollen belly, causing me painful cramps. I winced as he did a particular vicious dig in time with one of Tom's stronger jabs to my balls with his heel. Mr. Everett finally withdrew his prick from my mouth and I turned my head back upright to watch Tom.

He was staring intently down at my body as he dug his foot into my cock and balls and Jeff massaged my belly. His cock was stirring, rising again. It was at that point that I realized my whole body was shuddering. The two boys combined action was starting to get to me. My body was uncontrollably twitching and shuddering with the mixed sensations of pain and pleasure.

Mr. Everett handed each of his boys a big can of beer. Jeff drank his with one hand while continuing to kneed my stomach. Tom kept grinding his foot into my groin, tilting his head back to guzzle the beer down in a quick series of gulps. As if in a macho cliche, he lifted the can up, letting the stream of beer pour into his mouth. He then shook his head after the last drop and then crushed the can and tossed it aside. He looked down at me, meeting my gaze. He smiled and shook his head.

"Fucker. My fucker. We have only just begun to play." He stopped rubbing my groin suddenly and stepped forward. "Tie him down." Tom told his brother and father. Jeff went to the front of the table, grabbing my wrists and dragging me further up on the table. He pulled some chains with quick connect clips that had been hanging at the corner of the table and clipped them to my wrist cuffs. His father did the same with my ankle cuffs. I was spread eagled on the table.

Tom turned and I guessed what was coming, even before he started lowering his butt to my face. I shook my head, but knew it would do no good. I saw his beautiful ass globes with the lightly furred crack coming down. As he bent his cheeks spread and I could see a purplish bud between the cheeks. I expected to be repulsed as it came down, as I had when Master Simon had done the same to me. But for some reason, I felt a sudden urge to open that bud with my tongue.

My stomach went cold as I realized that in some strange way, I wanted Tom to do this to me. I wanted him to sit on my face. The bud came down, the top of the crack nestling around my nose. My tongue slid out of my lips and teased the bud. It felt tight, nubby, wrinkled.

"That's it Jason, kiss my ass, suck my hole." Tom said breathily. I twisted my tongue around, searching the bud, trying to let my tongue writhe its way into the boy's hot virgin hole. I grimaced as I tasted something foul, crusty. Tom wasn't as careful cleaning as Master Simon had been. I wanted to stop at that point, but Tom wriggled down on my face even more. My tongue wriggled on, up into the tight hole. It wasn't easy, he was real tight, my tongue kept getting pushed out, but I kept at it. Licking and slurping at it. I felt drool drip down my cheeks, the hairs of his crack getting wet with my saliva, plastering themselves to his ass and my cheeks.

I grunted in surprise around the bud, as I felt someone's finger shove itself up my ass. Prying it open again. I moaned at the sensation, the finger in my ass, my tongue up Tom's ass, the feeling, the emotions conjured were making my already primed cock throb to the point I thought it would explode.

"Gaaah!" I shouted into Tom's ass as something struck me across my bloated stomach. Again! It felt like a whole bunch of sharp stings, but more like line shaped stings than from a single point. It didn't hurt tremendously, about like a spanking but somehow more sensuous, as I felt whatever struck me drag across my skin afterwards. And then again. I tried to picture in my mind what I was being hit with, and suddenly I realized it must be one of those short multi-headed whip things the guards carried. They'd never used them on me before, but I'd seen them used on others.

The whipping continued, the fingers, now there were two, up my ass thrusting in time with the hits. It was both extremely uncomfortable, yet strangely pleasurable, almost painfully pleasurable. I didn't know what sensation to focus on.

Whoever was finger fucking my ass, grabbed both my balls in one hand, while still finger fucking me. I gasped again at the sensation. My swollen testicles extremely sensitive as always. The hand began squeezing them, squeezing them in time with the thrusts and the whipping. The sensations kept building as my tongue finally managed to loosen up Tom's hole and I could lap up the first ring area.

I don't know how long it lasted but suddenly I felt myself cumming. As I felt myself spurt, Tom suddenly pulled away from my face. He spun on the table, his rock hard dick slamming into my face as he did so. Quickly he rammed his dick into my throat. Even as he did, I felt the head swelling, spewing his boy juice into the back of my throat. This was the first time I could taste his come. It was almost fruity, yet slightly bitter, the beer perhaps. Very good, very fresh, like those of the other younger boys I'd tasted. I lapped his cock head as it dripped its last bit. My hunger more than cured earlier, but habit/instinct made me try to get as much as I could.


Chapter 13

It's been a while since I last wrote. Which sort of makes it hard to recall every single detail, but I'll try. I think it's important to try and remember as much as possible.

The rest of the afternoon was something of a blur. After they each came in me twice, they finally seemed sated, at least for a bit. They eventually left me alone in the room to go out and play a round of golf. Once gone, another slave came in to get me.

I had to double take when I looked at this slave. He was smooth, and I don't mean just hair, nor like Dolphin. He was about 5'8" and I guess around 18 or so, but it was very hard to tell. He wore a gold slave collar about his neck, along with a very light diaphanous shoulder scarf, (don't ask me how I learned the word diaphanous) and that was it, and he had no hair, anywhere on his body, nor stubble; but that wasn't what I meant by smooth. By smooth I mean he had no dick or balls, nor even a pussy. I'd never seen a vagina but I'd imagined what they'd look like; but as far as I could see there was nothing in this slave's groin, zilch. Given his, or her, very small, almost non-existent, buttocks, I'm not sure he/she even had an asshole.

In short, he looked like a Ken doll. Actually, I only thought of this person as a male slave because I'd seen no female slaves, but in any event this slave also had no breasts or even nipples! As far as I could tell this person, who, while lean, but not bone-skinny, had only traces of smooth musculature and no nipples whatsoever. No freckles, blemishes or other distinguishing marks, he was an all over lightly tanned flesh color. Like I said, completely smooth, completely sexless. I gulped, this place kept getting weirder; and, once again, I was starting to feel grateful for my lot in life.

The Ken doll led me down another hallway to a large, almost Roman Villa style bathroom. It was huge, with a, decent sized, in ground bathtub/pool filled with bubbles and smelling absolutely wonderful. Ken-doll removed my collar, somehow, and then led me gently into the bath, picking up a silk cloth and began bathing me.

After the last couple hours of abuse, this felt like heaven! The slave bathed every inch of my body, every nook and cranny, right up to a gentle enema to clean me there. It was as he gently washed my cheek that I noticed Ken-doll had no fingernails either, as far as I could see he never had.

At one point I tried to talk to the slave, but he/she made a shushing motion and made a gestured to where his Adam's apple should be and opened and closed his mouth a couple times silently. I suddenly realized he was mute as well! My stomach felt sick again and I definitely felt faint

After my bath, I was recollared and the slave led me to what I guess was a waiting room/vestibule off of what I soon discovered was the dining room. As I waited, Ken-doll by my side, other slaves began to enter the room guided by Ken-dolls. And I mean that literally, they were all identical to my Ken-doll, same height, same eye-color, gold, same features. They were impossible to tell apart! How could that be? I mean yes, they had no marks or blemishes or tits, or anything else on their bodies, but even their head and facial structures were identical!

In all, seven other slaves came in with Ken-dolls. Each different from the other. The first was completely hairless, about 21, with a gymnast's build but possessing a very long cock, at least 16" soft, but otherwise normal. The second to arrive was about 5'8", heavily muscled and had a very short, but unnaturally wide cock and very large close-set balls. He had stubble on his head and on his groin.

The third to arrive was very odd. I guess a dwarf? He was about 3'5" tall and probably 3' wide. All solid body builder muscle, I'd say he was normally proportioned, but his muscles certainly weren't in proportion to anything, so he was totally wack. And completely hairless. His cock and balls were wedged on top of his massive thighs and under his rock hard, protruding abdomen.

Number four was one of the hairy guys, not one that I knew, but about 20 or so years old, moderately well-built, I think, and looking like Chewbacca with a human face.

The fifth slave was very odd, he was not what I would call handsome. He was rather scrawny overall, but with a big potbelly, large balls, but no penis! Of course, after the Ken-dolls this didn't bother me as much as it would have even earlier today. The other odd thing was that he had an unbelievably large mouth and the thickest, almost balloon like, lips I've ever seen. I swear he could probably eat a cantaloupe whole! I was pretty sure I didn't want to know what he was specialized for.

Six was tall and thinly muscular, and green! I mean literally, comic book alien green! He was also bald and had pointy ears, his groin was fully equipped with an uncircumcised cock nestled in a deeper patch of deep forest green pubic hair. He was wearing a gold collar like everyone, and, uniquely, a gold wire headband.

The seventh slave to arrive was positively normal. About average adult height, decent build, not quite Abercrombie and Fitch, but almost; normal body hair for his age, about 22 I'd guess. Hair on his head, 5 o-clock shadow; light chest hair, other than the fact that he was naked and was wearing a collar I'd have never guessed him a slave.

OK, so this was weird, we were all just standing there in this waiting room, not talking. I guess everyone was too afraid to talk, even though I saw no guards, except maybe the Ken-dolls?

As I was pondering this, a different curtain parted and into the room came three women. I was in shock! These were the first women I'd seen since arriving here. They were fully dressed in silk scarves, basically harem costumes, and arrived unaccompanied.

They were all quite thin, at least in the exposed parts: arms, legs, necks and heads that I could see; but they seemed to have unusually large torso's under their clothes. Which just seemed a bit odd? Why would you have fat harem girls?

Of course, my question was answered as they started doing some warm up exercises. They appeared to be some sort of belly dancers, or such, and it didn't take more than a few twists of their loose fitting close to reveal what was odd about them. They had 3 rows of boobs! Yes, they were six-breasted women!

Crap! What the hell was I trapped in? Some sort of X-Rated Star Trek fantasy gone bad? I was still reeling several minutes later when the Ken-dolls began leading all the men slaves into the dining room.

What a dining room it was, clearly a place fit for Caesar. The room was very good sized and there was a large U-Shaped table in the middle of the room, with chairs along the backside of the table, so all diners could see into the center of the U. It was actually sort of a weird table in that it was a U-Shaped table sitting over a U-Shaped ledge, or step.

Specifically the back side of the table, where diners sat was on a higher level of the floor than the font. This meant that the front legs were longer than the back. Each chair's front legs were near the edge of the ledge, but kept from going over by a narrow rim. Also, in front of each chair, below the ledge were padded stools, like church kneelers, of slightly varying heights.

The tables were all set for dinner, like in a Roman Empire movie, but no guests had arrived. The odd layout's purpose began getting clearer as the Ken-dolls began leading the other slaves to their positions.

We were all led to one of the kneelers under the table and our leashes changed to a small eyelet between the legs of the chairs. It was pretty clear I'd be having man-sausage for dinner.

After about fifteen minutes or so, Dr Monroe came in with his guests, I couldn't see much under the table, but I'd been able to count places and knew there were ten diners. The three centermost seats of the U, had no slaves kneeling in front of them, although kneelers were present. This is where Monroe, Lowry and Master Simon sat.

I wasn't surprised when Tom was seated in front of me, wearing what I'd call a toga, and no underpants. I could see his cock already rising as he spied me under the table waiting for him. Tom was next to Lowry, Master Simon was next and then Dr Monroe, Mr. Everett to Monroe's left. Jeff was next to Tom, and the muscle-midget was standing on a rather high kneeler to reach Jeff's groin. I have no idea who the other guests were, but from their legs, they generally appeared to be Mr. Everett's age or older.

"Gentlemen," Dr. Monroe intoned in a very cheerful voice. "Welcome, as always, it is my pleasure to have you all here." The diners all replied back in various fashions, by the chinking of glassware, I suppose toasting Monroe.

"I'd like to also welcome my newest client, Tom Everett, who has just turned 16 and is ready to begin enjoying life's true pleasures!" The diners all cheered and congratulated Tom.

"Tom, I'm sure you've noticed that my table comes with some extra amenities?" Tom laughed. "As you might expect, I provide my guests with the best in in-meal entertainment, and as we drink the night away, I want no excuses for my delightful company to have to leave the table!" The diners all laughed and cheered again. "Feel free to pull your receptacle to you or away from you as you desire during the meal."

"Now!" He clapped his hands, "Let dinner be served." With that Jeff and Tom hitched up their togas and gestured for the muscle-midget and I to get to work.

I moved in between Tom's legs, carefully stroking his inner thighs with my hands, while using them for support as well. I leaned in and started by sucking on his left ball. He motioned that it was OK for me to move in further and rest my arms on his thighs, so soon my head was buried in his crotch.

One unpleasantness of this closeness was that as dinner went on, Tom apparently decided to use my now abundant hair as a napkin. Ick. Thanks a lot buddy, I cursed to myself.

Eventually the dancers came out and began their show. Naturally I couldn't see anything, but I could guess what was up by the hoots of the diners, and the music. Jeff really loved the extra breasts, naturally. But they were popular across the board.

From my perspective, limited as it was, the worst part of their routine was their big finish. Tom jerked back and up in such surprise that he smashed my head into the table! "Dicks! They've got cocks!" Tom shouted. Everyone else was laughing.

"Hot damn! Super boobed Chicks with Dicks!!!!" Jeff shouted drunkenly. It took me a few minutes to get back on rhythm with Tom's cock, but he was only peripherally paying attention to me. Nonetheless it didn't take long for him to cum as the hexaboobed shemales slowly wound down their dance. Mmm. He was very good. Definitely better than Jeff.

The dancers took their place at the three empty kneelers and proceeded to work on Monroe, Simon and Lowry. I carefully licked the dribbling cum from Tom's softening cock, while he finished his beer.

I wish I could have paid more attention to the dinner conversation, but I could only get bits and pieces, Tom started adjusting my head so that I could lick other parts of his body, inner thighs, his balls, the area between his balls and ass. While he squirmed a bit in the seat, it was too awkward for me to get my tongue in his ass, for which I was grateful. I did try though.

The meal went on for several more hours, with desert and cheese and coffee. Some more entertainment of a less sexual nature also happened, but I wasn't paying much attention. Tom was drinking enough that he was pissing about every 40 minutes and I was getting pretty bloated, and maybe a little tipsy towards the end. Clearly some of his beer was going straight through. The flavor of his piss, if you can call it that, changed over the course of the evening. But I had to piss pretty bad myself, so began to care less and less.

It was about all I could do to concentrate properly on my fourth blow job for him that evening. I managed to get him to come, but between his getting drunk and drained, and my having to piss, I really had to work hard. I didn't want him to get pissed off and end up with Master Simon and Dr. Monroe thinking of new tortures for me while they were drunk.

Actually, I'm not sure Dr. Monroe ever really got drunk, he did sound happy and relaxed, but I could tell that at all points he was in control. Which, of course, made the parts of conversation I could overhear all the more interesting. That wasn't much, what with Tom's needs and Jeff's random drunken shouts and abuse of the muscle midget it was not easy.

What little I did manage to gather is that several of the guests were, I don't know, distributors? Apparently they were like middle men who arranged deals with people all around the world for Monroe's "products." It was very bizarre. It was also interesting to note that Monroe spoke at least four different languages, besides English; French, Japanese? German and some Middle Eastern language I couldn't recognize.



Chapter 14

[Hardcore. Not for the squeamish. Check back in Chpt. 15]

That evening was bad, but what followed was unbelievably worse. I was sent back to Tom's room with him for the night. He was given a bath by the Ken-dolls before going to bed, and I was allowed a chance to piss and to wash and dry my hair in a separate bathroom by another Ken-doll. When we were both back in the room, he tried to fuck me a couple more times, but was so drunk things didn't work like he wanted. Which of course pissed him and so he hit me a couple times. Again, being drunk, he wasn't very effective. Eventually though, he passed out.

I sat there at the edge of the bed, in the dark, not knowing what to do. After about an hour, Master Simon peaked in and saw me sitting there, Tom asleep. He came over to the bed, glaring at me. He whispered fiercely, "Did you not hear Mr. Everett this afternoon?" I looked at him blankly. He gestured towards Tom's groin. "Get down there and make sure he doesn't have to wake or get up to take a piss!"

I made a sighing noise and Master Simon glared at me. "I think you've seen tonight that you've been pretty lucky. If you want to continue to be lucky in your "development" you will do what is expected of you!" I gulped and nodded.

I crawled over the bed, between Tom's lightly furred thighs and took his plump, but resting, cock into my mouth. I had to admit the clean washed, yet still slightly boy-musky smell of his crotch was very soothing as I too drifted off to sleep.

Of course, I didn't get to sleep long, it was probably only an hour or so before Tom's stiffening cock in my mouth woke me. I began ministering to it carefully, I could tell he was still asleep. I don't know if the moistness of my tongue had something to do with it, but suddenly I felt Tom's bladder release in my mouth, and yet by his light snoring, I could tell he was still asleep. Shit, the guy was wetting the bed, with me there to keep it dry!

At least I got some amusement as I carefully sealed my mouth around his dick to ensure no piss leaked out. I was still groggy, but I'd drank so much piss lately, that I was getting very used to it. I could easily tell differences in the taste of his urine now versus earlier. This was actually lighter in taste, not so acrid. I suppose he'd pissed a lot of the heavy stuff out already. This was almost like warm tea.

I shook my head. Crap! Here I was getting used to the taste of piss. Was I going to end up enjoying it like I enjoyed cum? I prayed not. I really didn't want to enjoy being a urinal.

In all, I got very little sleep, Tom actually woke up a couple times, and woke me up and made sure I got all his piss. He really enjoyed that, calling me his "Pissboy."

Eventually I was so exhausted I fell into a deeper sleep than I intended. This gave Tom an opportunity to use his imagination in ways to my deep regret. I awoke on my back, Tom straddling my head with his knees, his balls over my eyes and his cock, half turgid, bouncing on my lips.

"Wake up toilet trollop!" Tom laughed. "I am full to bursting and I need my toilet." How the hell could he be full to bursting I thought? He'd been pissing all night. I opened my mouth and took the head of his cock in. He quickly let loose a stream before my tongue could get him too aroused to aim. It was a decent stream, I couldn't believe it.

As soon as he was done, he pulled out and slid further forward, his hands resting on my ribcage. He began teasing my nipples as his ass moved right over my eyes and nose, stopping over my mouth. "Ream me slave!" he gave my right nipple a sharp tweak. I gasped and his crack came down over my mouth.

I moved my tongue into position, moistening and working his tight rosebud, while Tom tortured my nipples, sometimes gently, sometimes hard. I got hard pretty quick myself. Tom laughed at the site of my little slavehood and gave it a twist. I grimaced, pulling my tongue back for a second and then inserting it firmly up his hole. He gasped himself.

"Yeah, jack me off while you do that bitch!" I tried, it was awkward, he was on his haunches at this point and I had to work my arm around his shins. I did what I could, up and down. This was tricky, trying to ream him and wank him. He somehow reached forward, over my arm, bending a bit, making it easier for me to pull on his dick, and began yanking on my own!

I couldn't believe it! Had my best friend came back to me? Here he was, yanking me off too? I got hotter and hotter, working my tongue deeper and deeper into his chute.

Suddenly though, I felt his asshole shudder a bit, and then, even as my tongue was in his chute, he farted! Agh, he farted in my mouth! The cloying smell, I won't say taste, but the fart gas in my mouth allowed me to get way more of a feeling for a fart than I ever wanted. There wasn't much I could do though, his ass was welded over my face, my mouth open wide and my tongue lapping his hole. Tom laughed, almost evilly. Shithead, I thought.

When he farted, I'd moved my tongue out a bit and as he laughed I started moving it back in, to wedge the hole open again. Except. As I got closer, I felt his hole starting to dilate on its own? How would he be able to do that? I pulled my tongue back. NO! I suddenly realized what was happening.

I stopped jacking Tom off and started struggling to get free. Tom laughed harder and pressed his ass tighter against my open mouth. I tried vainly to shut my mouth, but it was too late! I hit Tom's legs with my fists, while rocking back and forth, but he just pushed my head further back into the mattress with his ass.

There it was, even as I started getting my mouth shut, something the consistency of moist clay was pressing against my lips. Fuck! NO! I struggled. I wanted to scream, but didn't dare open my mouth. Tom grabbed my balls and squeezed. "Open up fucker! Eat my shit!" He squeezed, and I screamed. The turd came in, across my tongue, into my mouth, heading towards my throat. Fuck! God no!, No...no...no...no...please god, no!

"Swallow!" He squeezed my balls with one hand, my left nipple with another. Another turd was coming out, he was shitting for all he had! I couldn't breath, my balls were killing me, so was my nipple. Tears ran down my eyes, I had no choice but to swallow, again and again, Tom forced his shit down my throat and into my stomach. It was all I could do to snort small breaths of air through my nostrils lodged in the upper part of his crack.

The taste was foul, it was thick and chalky, drier than I'd have thought, at first. But then a little softer, or was that my mouth watering? Huh? I could feel my saliva glands responding? Creating saliva to moisturize my throat and ease the vile substance down my gullet.

I had no choice, I swallowed, I had to get the shit out of my mouth, had to get him to release my balls. Tom laughed, laughed hard, he was breathing heavy, as I tried to position my head to get more air in through my nose. I had about 30 seconds of relief after I swallowed, and Tom relaxed his grip. And then he leaned back up a bit, sitting up straighter on my face and I felt another log pressing against my lips, this one moister, at least on the outside, he squeezed my nipples hard and gritting my teeth I opened my mouth again, the turd breaking up against my teeth. "Open up cocksucker!" He squeezed both my nipples hard. I opened up. I was beaten. My former best friend had taken me to the absolute very lowest point in my life.


Or at least it was until he ordered me to lick him clean.



Eventually, Tom got off me and rang for a Ken-doll to come and clean me up. He told the Ken-doll he didn't' want to put his dick in a dirty shit hole like my mouth.

The Ken-doll led me away to the slave bathroom. The first thing I did was head to the toilet to throw up. But I couldn't. I spit and tried to gag, but nothing would come up. I couldn't throw the shit up! I would have thought it would have come up in an instant, but it didn't. And kneeling there, trying, I realized it was probably just as well, I didn't want to taste it a second time going the other way.

So I spit out what I could, the Ken-doll brought me a glass of water and I rinsed my mouth out, several times. There was less shit still there than I would have thought. Apparently I'd done a good job of swallowing, I could barely recall.

I was still leaning there, crying, when Master Simon came in. "On your feet slave!" Master Simon ordered. I wobbly complied. I turned around to face him, my tear stained eyes staring at his feet.

"What the fuck are you balling about!" Master Simon shouted. "You know your place slave. Did you fuck up? If I hear you failed to perform, there will be hell to pay!"

"He... Tom... he used me as a toilet." I mumbled.

"Of course he did, you sniveling coward, he did so all evening at dinner and that's why I had you keep his dick in your mouth all night. You did, didn't you?"

I nodded. "Yes, sir." I whispered. "That's not what I meant, I mean, he...he...shit in my mouth!" I sobbed.

Master Simon didn't say anything for about twenty seconds. "Did you swallow it?" I nodded. "How much?"

"I don't know sir, maybe six or seven, and then he made me lick him clean."

"And you did, and you're here now?"

"Yes," I sniffled, "he wanted me to be cleaned up, he didn't want to stick his dick back in my shithole mouth until it was clean." I started crying again in humiliation.

"Hmm." Master Simon harrumphed. He came over to the toilet. "Did you throw it up?"

"No sir." I whispered, "I wasn't able to."

"Hmm." He harrumphed again. "Very good then boy." He patted me on the head. "Very good indeed." He turned and left.



The Ken-doll got me bathed and cleaned, and allowed me to rest on a sofa like thing for about a half hour, before the door opened and Master Simon, Dr. Monroe and Dr. Lowry entered.

I stood as they entered. "So. He actually ate the boy's scat?" Dr. Monroe asked Master Simon.

"Several times, the attendant confirms." Master Simon stated. LoweryLowry came over and poked me with a needle to draw some blood, one of his favorite pastimes.

"Interesting, and he's kept it down?" Lowry asked. Master Simon looked to my Ken-doll who nodded yes.

"Yes." Master Simon relayed.

"What about Everett's boy?" Master Simon asked Dr. Monroe.

"Very inventive for one so young. Pull the video file for his room last night. I want to review it. The lad may have some potential." Monroe ordered.

Lowery looked at me. "Tell me slave, did you experience any excess saliva during this event."

"Yes sir." This was not exactly the response I'd been expecting, I don't know what I expected, but...

"Any feelings of actual nausea, of cramps? And I mean actual stomach pain, not you simply wanting to throw up." Lowry asked me.

"No sir."

"Excellent." Lowry turned to Dr. Monroe. "Very good. Clearly this trial was not anticipated, but it seems to have been successful. I'd have preferred a more clinical trial." He looked to my Ken-doll. "Please collect any urine or feces samples the slave passes." He looked back to Dr. Monroe.

"Naturally, I'll need to look at the slave's waste products in detail to determine metabolization levels. But so far, quite promising."

Huh? I wasn't following the doctor, but I swore he'd been expecting something like this, at some point? Had they planned for me to eat shit at some point all along?

I gingerly tried to signal Master Simon my desire to speak. He noticed, and addressed me. "You may speak boy."

"Dr. Sir. Is it safe for me to eat...poop? I mean, isn't it dangerous? Will I get sick?" Dr. Lowry frowned at me. "I mean, sir, I don't want to be out of service sir. I would like to avoid letting you down? I'd just like to be prepared sir."

Master Simon raised his eyebrow at my ass kissing (no pun intended). Then he sort of smirked. Dr. Lowry chuckled. Apparently I'd said the right thing. He nodded to Dr. Monroe, "A fast learner."

"Normally that would be none of your concern, slave. However, since we are running ahead of schedule and this was an uncontrolled experience, I will answer your question.

"Normally, yes. The human body is not equipped to process its own waste product, such waste product has already had the majority of useable nutrients removed, and in fact may contain bacteria that cause issues in other parts of the GI tract. While small quantities will not generally harm an individual, it is not a good practice to engage in." He smiled.

"Unless of course, the subject has been especially modified." He nodded again to Dr. Monroe. "And, naturally, your body is in the process of being so modified." I felt a chill run down my spine. How low would these people take me?

"Our intent is to alter your fundamental body chemistry. Similar to what we've already done with your need for protein from sperm. The goal is that your body contain or as applicable, produce, the necessary bacteria, enzymes and other catalytic chemicals to enable it to further refine and process normal human excrement. Specifically urine and fecal matter.

"Of course, such a substantial alteration of your internal metabolic processes will result in you being unable to process traditional food." He clearly saw me going pale.

"In other words, we intend to refine your entire digestive tract, making it extremely efficient in processing nutrients, far beyond what a normal human ever could. Unfortunately, that efficiency has a price. Specifically, a reduction in your ability to process nutrients at the other end of the spectrum; thus requiring, "predigestion" by an external agent." I was feeling woozy, and sick.

"Of course, your primary protein source will continue to be cum, but for sugars, vitamins, fats and other necessary materials, those must come to you preprocessed. We've actually already been moving this way with your shakes and enemas, continuously modifying it to adjust to your new digestive system."

I felt very feint, against my will, I had to risk their wrath and sit down. I couldn't comprehend the horror of my situation. I started hyperventilating. Dr. Lowry restrained Master Simon from intervening. "A natural reaction to such information, Simon, leave him be."

Dr. Lowery patted me on the shoulder. "Never fear lad. Just as your sense of smell and taste have adapted to spermazoa, so too will they adjust to this. The interesting thing is that biologically our sense of smell and taste are designed to excite us over those things that are good for us. Now of course, we do sort of have to help them along in this case, but, nonetheless it's a natural progression. Your taste buds will adapt!"

I started crying again.


Chapter 15

[Still rather harsh, Discussion of Chpt. 14 events]

I didn't want to be a shit eating slave. What could I do? It was hopeless, just a few hours ago I was grateful, thinking to have gotten off easy compared to other slaves! What irony.

"The Everett's are touring other parts of our facility this morning, so you have some time to recover." Master Simon informed me after Lowry and Monroe left. "The attendant will take to you a slave staging area where you may rest until lunch is served." Master Simon turned and headed for the door.

At the last moment, before walking out, he turned his head back to me, "You are doing fine your first time out, slave. I am satisfied with your performance so far, I expect you to continue this level of service, or better." He then left. I guess that was his way of praising me, it did actually feel good, compared to his normal indifference.

My Ken-doll took me down the hall to a small, non-descript sitting room. There were some not uncomfortable chairs and a couple couches. Nothing fancy, but good quality; however nothing on the level of the furniture in the rest of the mansion. The big mouthed, pot-bellied slave was sitting in there when I was led in. My Ken-doll turned around and left. Oddly, I didn't hear the door lock behind him. Thinking of it, I hadn't seen any locks on any of the doors, other than the bedrooms. Obviously they had no fears of slaves escaping.

I sat down and put my head in my hands and began stewing over my situation again, thinking of all I'd lost and what a miserable future I had coming. Naturally, this got me crying softly again. I had almost never cried up until my parents deaths. It seemed to be getting more common.

"Whaas sa madder" The other slave asked. His huge mouth and lips clearly gave him difficulty speaking.

I shook my head, looking up at his concerned expression, and laughed sarcastically. "Oh nothing! I just found out that these crazy guys are altering my digestive tract so I can only eat shit and drink piss!" I winced in pain saying it aloud.

"Bwah hah hah hah!" The other slave laughed in obvious amusement. "Iz zadd all? Zad's nod so bhad." He smiled at me with an oddly comforting grin on his huge mouth.

"What do you mean that's not so bad? Would you want to eat shit?"

"Yez. Love it." He opened his mouth wide. Oddly, I suddenly realized his mouth was about the same size as a small toilet seat. "You whill too. My name is Doiledt"

"Toilette? Your name is Toilette?" I asked incredulously.

He nodded smiling. "Thad's whad they khall me!" He patted his protruding belly, "And as you khan zee, I enjoy mhy fhood."

"How long have you been this way?" I asked.

He shrugged. "No aidea, fvore or bive ears? There iz grade vhariation in the ghuards shid. Ivv we ghet dhime dogether we khan khompare nodhes."

Great, just what I needed, to compare shit recipes with a human toilette! I was going to ask him another question, when the door opened and in walked a Ken-doll with the normal looking slave. The one that looked like a normal person, with hair and nothing odd about him.

As the Ken-doll exited, the new guy came over and gave Toilette a high five greeting. "Hey Toilette! How's it hanging!" He tweaked Toilette's massive balls. Which reminded me that Toilette had no dick, nothing at all. How did he urinate?

"Ghood ahz ehver Herm!" Toilette replied. The new guy turned to look at me, and whistled.

"Mmm mmm. What do we have here, woa. Tasty." He came over and rubbed my shoulder affectionately. "I'm called Herm, what do you go by, gorgeous?"

I didn't know, Dr. Monroe told me I wasn't to use my name anymore. "Uhm, my name used to be Jason, no on calls me anything but slave, or boy."

"Hmm, no name? You must be fresh off the tomato truck. You certainly are ripe!" He ogled me a couple times before turning to Toilette. "I vote we call him Boi." Purposefully pronouncing the "i" instead of a "y".

Toilette nodded, "Bhoiee is ghoodt."

He turned back to me. He may have looked like a jock, but his manner was definitely a bit on the feminine side. "We all take names based on our function, or model, or whatever you want to call it. And you look like a hunky little boy, so Boi it shall be!"

"Uhm, OK, but why are you called Herm then? You're like the most normal slave I've ever seen here. What's your function or style? Shouldn't it be Jock or Butch or something?" I asked. Toilette fell out of his seat laughing. I glanced over to him, trying to figure out what was so funny.

"Honey, that is so sweet, wrong, but sweet." Herm stepped back from me and sort of moved his hands in a ta-da sort of motion displaying his body. As I said, he had a nice lightly furred chest, with a trail of hair down over his belly and down to his pubic hair. He looked exactly like a completely normal college student that you might see in a locker room at the gym.

"Here, look." He reached down and started playing with his balls. Before I realized it, he'd somehow, shoved them up inside his body! Now I knew this was possible for young kids, but for adults? And it's not like his sack was empty, it was up between his legs, sort of like small flaps of skin behind his dick. But he didn't stop there, he then began playing with his cock, pushing it down and back and something? The next thing I knew his 4" flaccid cock was gone, he'd somehow shoved it up inside himself.

He prodded and kneaded his flesh a bit, and suddenly I realize he had sort of a mound and a slit where his cock and balls used to be. "Ta-Da" He spread his arms again! He had a pussy? Like I'd said, I'd never seen one up, in person. I'd caught glimpses in an occasional dirty magazine, but that was it. But as far as I could tell he now had a cunt!

Standing before me was this hot looking young man, with a vagina! "Holy shit!" I exclaimed.

"And I'm not done honey!" He brought his hands up to his chest and began playing with his nipples, and his pecs. He massaged them heavily, breathing harder and harder as he did so. I watched in amazement as his nipples started increasing in size, along with the areola. Soon they were as big as mine. I shook my head.

It was then I noticed that his pec's had gotten bigger, they seemed to be swelling somehow. It took about three or four minutes of Herm "masturbating" his chest, during which my cock had become totally rigid and started leaking, and he then pulled his hands away in another "ta-da" motion.

He had boobs! Hairy boobs! No if's and's or but's Herm had good sized, womanly breasts and nipples! I had no idea how big they were, but they looked about as big as my mom's had in a bathing suit. The big difference was that he as still as hairy and "manly" he'd been before. He just had tits and a twat.

"See?" Herm asked. "Herm is short for Hermaphrodite! I can go either way!" He smiled at me, sort of like a cute girl might, to get your attention. I swallowed hard, OK, so this guy was weird too. And strangely hot. I have no idea why, this should have creeped me out, but I was still dripping precum from my little slavehood.

I felt something like a raindrop on my thigh, and I suddenly realized my mouth was open and some drool had fallen onto my lap. I quickly shut my mouth and turned red in embarrassment, looking away from Herm. He chuckled. "I guess you like?" He pirouetted on the balls of his feet showing off his macho female body.

"Yeah." I said breathlessly.

"Hmmph" Toilette sniffed, in what I guess was mock anger. "Wwhen beoble zee me, dhey jusdt gedt da shidz." He crossed his arms playfully.

I smiled at Toilette. I had a sudden thought, "Are you? Anatomically correct inside too?" I asked Herm.

He cocked an eye at me. "Do you mean can I have babies?" I nodded. "Actually, Dr. Lowry says that I can, in theory. I'm the first of my kind, that's lived." He grimaced. "I have one testicle and one ovary, and I have a womb. My vagina is actually always there, behind my ballsack, I just have to contract up the entrance muscles when I put my testicle and ovary inside. The plumbing is pretty complex. I had to have actual surgery to get it done, besides just wacky drugs. In theory I could father a child and I can be a mother.

"If I could figure out how to fuck myself, I could probably father my own baby." He smiled wistfully. "However, I'm taking special contraceptives right now. I'm not allowed to get pregnant until I'm purchased and my master decides I should get knocked up."

I shook my head in amazement. I wasn't completely sure whether I envied him, or was freaked by him. My slavehood though was clearly lusting for him err her. "Wow. Cool. I think. I don't know, every time I turn around, this place gets weirder."

"Honey, you haven't seen the half of it." Herm shook her head and sat down, crossing her legs as only a woman can. It looked rather freaky with his hairy legs. "Nor have I for that matter." She shrugged. "I've been here about two years. It took a bit over 12 months for my transformation, and then another six in additional training beyond what I got during my change, once I was fully functional. I've really only had the opportunity to service clients and interact with other slaves for the last seven or eight months. And now Dr. Monroe is closing in on a buyer for me."

"How many slaves are there? How many does he sell? What does he charge?" I suddenly realized I had all these questions inside me, and here was someone who could answer them!

Herm shook her head. "I really have no idea. This place is big, I've probably met and chatted with thirty or forty slaves, and seen or worked out with another hundred or so. Not counting the attendants, of course. Counting them is not easy."

"The attendants, the Ken-dolls? Are they like clones or something?"

"Ken-dolls? Yeah that's a good name. No they all started out as normal slaves. When Dr. Monroe finds slaves that are about the right height, weight and that are mentally suitable, but perhaps not attractive enough, naturally, he modifies them. I think the big thing with them is their brains. They all have sort of a worker bee sort of herd mentality, I guess. I say that because they all seem the same in terms of temperament, personality, demeanor. I mean it's really sort of creepy. They've kinda got like one personality between them. And I have no idea how they communicate with each other, but as far as I can tell, what one knows, the others seem to know as well. I'd swear they must gossip incessantly, but they can't talk, so..." Toilette was nodding in agreement.

"Are you nervous about being sold?"

Herm shrugged. "Well, it would be nice to have some more consistency in my life. Like you though, I'm lucky in that I'll probably drive a really high price, and so will have it better than a lot of other slaves. I'm thinking that people are less likely to break their extremely expensive toys in a fit of pique." Toilette grunted.

"Of course Toilette, here, he's so expensive, Dr. Monroe won't sell him." Toilette raised his hands in a shooing motion. "Toilette's abilities are pretty interesting, and so I think Dr. Monroe keeps him around as a demonstration slave. Plus I have to bet Dr. Monroe doesn't want to lose his favorite toilette." Toilette chuckled and looked bashful at the praise.

"If you ever get the chance, you should use Toilette. You haven't shit until you've done it in him. He practically sucks it out of you and then cleans you up inside. It's really hot. His tongue has gotta be two feet long."

Toilette stuck his tongue out. Shit! It kept coming out, it really was like two feet long. I got to thinking about that hot spot in my ass and what Toilette could do for that.

"How much do slaves cost?" I asked, curious.

"Well, I don't know for sure, only what I've sort of heard from slaves who've returned to be upgraded, or traded in on a newer model." Herm answered. "From what I've heard, basic, unmodified slaves are generally around $35K to $100K depending on purpose, looks etc.

"Enhanced slaves, for labor and other tasks are several hundred thousand a piece. Extremely modified sex slaves, like the majority you've probably seen, start around a million and go up. A "Steed" is typically about $2 to $3 million. Without sounding egotistical, I'm probably worth a good $10 million to the right buyer. My plumbing doesn't come cheap.

"I don't know what all you can do, but judging by your beauty, you're probably somewhere in the same area, a bit less if you are all looks, more if you have special tricks." Did my ass count as a special trick I wondered?

"You mentioned traded in? What happens to those slaves?" I asked, suddenly nervous.

"Typically resold to someone, like a used car. Depends on the slave, I suppose at some point they get put out to pasture. No idea on that." Toilette shuddered, clearly not thrilled to think of this. Herm continued, "But Dr. Monroe can keep slaves that are in good shape healthy and attractive for quite some time. I wouldn't worry too much about that if I were you."

It was at this point that the door opened and in came a Ken-doll. Herm motioned for me to be quite. Apparently, we were back "on duty" and would need to go back to normal slave mode.


It was back under the table for lunch. This time, I was with Jeff, Toilette was with Mr. Everett and Tom got Herm. The other slaves came in from another direction and were assigned to the various guests. Master Simon and Lowry weren't present, it was Dr. Monroe and another big burly looking guy seemed to have taken Master Simon's place.

He was about the same size as Master Simon, but older. Probably in his sixties, his hair, both on his massive chest and on his head was mostly grey with a few specks of black. He also had a mustache and goatee, a Van Dyke, I think it's called.

"That was an impressive display Mr. Samson," Tom gushed. "I've never seen such control. Actually, I'd never seen someone whipped before. How you didn't leave scars is amazing, considering how much the slave was screaming--he'll think twice about accidentally biting a man's foreskin during a blow job." I shuddered at this, were they at a whipping this morning?

"It takes practice, you do have a good eye though; for someone who's never used a whip, your work on the practice dummy was decent." Master Samson replied.

Well at least my now evil ex-best friend wasn't whipping an actual slave, after this morning, I could see where he'd enjoy that. Thankfully they left any actual whipping of slaves to the Masters.

"You even got Dummy to cum once, Tom. Very impressive. Very, very few of my guests who aren't full time slave owners manage that." Dr. Monroe complimented Tom. Dummy came? How does a practice dummy cum? Ehh...

"Shit yeah man, I tried again this time, and I couldn't get him to cum. He did moan for me a couple times." Jeff enthused. His cock was twitching in my mouth at the thought of this.

Master Samson laughed. "Dummy even asked me if you could give him a go one more time before you left Tom. He really enjoyed being whipped by such a hot young stud. Perhaps tomorrow morning?"

"Fuck yeah!" Tom answered.

I couldn't believe this, there was a slave named Practice Dummy? that they trained people to whip slaves on? And he liked being whipped? I'm sure this Master Samson guy was making that up. I don't see how they could make a slave get off on being whipped. That sort of thing doesn't happen in real life, no matter how they mutate you. Could it? I thought back on how a lot of times Master Simon got me to explode suddenly by pinching my nipples hard, or whacking my balls? Could you actually pleasure someone with a whip?

Jeff came twice during lunch, and took a piss before leaving the table. His piss definitely had a maltier taste than Tom's. I really hadn't paid much attention yesterday afternoon, but after all the piss I drank last night I was sort of getting over freaking out about being pissed in, and could pay attention to what I was drinking.

Actually, that made me think, other than the water I had used to rinse my mouth out this morning, and a couple gulps to wash some shit down, I hadn't had any water since midday yesterday. And I wasn't thirsty, in the least. I hoped that was a coincidence.

Apparently, the guests were going to the stables to watch a pony race and maybe ride some horses from what I could gather. Surely they wouldn't put these big men on a little pony, so I'm sure they were going to use horses for riding. Of course, I wasn't really sure why they'd be racing ponies when they had horses but who knows, I wasn't much of an equestrian. At least they were going to do something this weekend that didn't involving fucking, beating or humiliating slaves.

As we finished up lunch I felt discomfort in my lower bowels. At first I thought my breakfast was making me sick anyway, and then I realized that I had to shit. It had been so long since I'd actually taken a crap, that I'd forgotten what it felt like to need to go.

As my Ken-doll led me off I told it that I needed to take a dump. It nodded and led to my normal bathroom. The Ken-doll took out a cup and indicated that I should urinate in that, and then produced a chamber pot which he indicated I should shit in. All of which matched with what Dr. Lowry had said about wanting specimens.

Pissing in the cup was normal, but my number 2 definitely wasn't. I had to strain a bit and what popped out made a very hard clunking noise in the pot. And that was all there was to it. One clunk and I was relieved. I looked down and saw what looked like a very solid rock or stone sitting in the pot? Was I literally shitting bricks? I didn't feel like touching it to find out.

The Ken-doll put the waste containers to the side and gestured for me to come over by the enema hose. I guess they didn't use toilette paper around here. I knew first hand that Tom didn't.


I spent the next few hours in a small slave gym in the mansion. The Ken-doll that led me there gave me a sheet of paper with a series of workouts on the multi-function equipment that I was supposed to do. All normal exercises, no funky dildos, no guards, just a normal workout. How very weird that seemed.

After about two hours, the Ken-doll return and back to the baths I went to wash the sweat of my work out off. I was rather thirsty after the work out, but the Ken-doll didn't provide me any water, nor did I see any glasses in the bathroom.

It was back to the slave waiting room after my bath. I was alone for about fifteen minutes before Herm was escorted in. He was in She mode at the moment. "Hey babe," she came over and up behind me, very friendly like. She started rubbing my chest, teasing around my nipples. This was not good, I was getting turned on again.

"So you know this Tom guy? Toilette mentioned that his father said something to that effect while crapping." Herm asked.

"Yeah, he was my best friend growing up. I was staying over at his place when I learned my parents had died, which is what ended up sending me here."

"Ouch, and he took a dump in you this morning? Some friend!" She kissed my neck, nibbling slightly. "So did the two of you ever do it? Back when you were buds?"

I snorted. "No. I didn't know he was gay back then, heck I didn't know I was gay. Actually, I don't know that I am, the only sex I've ever had is what I've had here, so I have nothing to compare it with."

"Honey, I don't buy the gay for pay thing, and you ain't getting paid, you suck cock, take a dick up your ass and you're a guy, you're gay."

"So are you gay?" I asked her. "Seems you could do it with a man or woman and still be straight." She smiled at me.

"Sweetheart you are so right. I'm the straightest person here! Actually that's not true, if I do it with a guy and I'm using my external plumbing I'm a fag, and if I do it with a chick and internal plumbing, I'm a dyke. It's only when I use my outie on their innie or vice versa that I'm straight. I'm the ultimate bisexual!"

"So, anyway," she changed the subject, "how did your parents dying send you here?"

"Apparently my dad owed Monroe money and used me for collateral. When he died, Monroe collected." It was surprisingly easy to talk about at this point. I guess I'd spent enough time being pissed, upset, sad and all other emotions about it that I was getting numb to it.

"Ouch, that's harsh."

"Yeah, apparently my dad was a client, and ran up quite a tab, and then stuck me with it." Herm shook her head as her right hand traced down my stomach. "So," I asked, "how did you end up here?"

"The Internet. Met up with the wrong guy in a Yahoo group. I was straight, had a girlfriend, but as they say, `bi-curious,' in particular if I could still be the `man' during sex. We traded pictures, life stories, did cybersex, claimed he was a big time bottom needing a strong top to handle him. And while I'd never even done it with a guy, I thought, hey as long as I get to do the fucking... So I drove to meet him at the end of semester, we went to a motel, I had a drink and next thing you know...here I am."

"Aren't your parents looking for you? Your friends?" I asked as he tickled my slavehood, which was painfully erect. I knew he shouldn't be doing this, that we could both get in trouble, but it felt good.

"Well, my parents split up, my dad's a drunk and my mom passed away a while back. And none of my college friends would really know how to look for me; I sure as hell didn't tell them what I was up to. So I was kind of screwed. There are a lot of perverts and creeps out there on the Internet. Turned out Dr. Monroe has a `Talent Scouts' scouring the Internet."


Herm jerked up and away suddenly as we heard the door open. In came a Ken-doll with the muscle-midget. "Hey Brick!" Herm said once the Ken-doll left.

"Hey Herm, so who's the toy?" He was licking his lips, staring at my chest. His voice was a lot deeper than I might have expected for someone his height.

"This is Boi! He used to be best friends with that 16 year old newbie out there. Boi, this is Brick."

"Cool to meet you Boi the Toi!" Brick stuck out his right hand. I took it, it was very compact. Thick with stubby fingers.

"Yeah that squirt's brother was something. I did the night with him. What a twathead! Thinks he's so macho: me, I can tell, he'd really like nothing better than my fist up his ass; him whining like a little bitch." Brick made a slow, twisting, karate punch sort of motion with his arm and fist.

Brick was staring at my erect and dripping slavehood. "Love that stick of yours Toi. Nice and compact." Brick's own stick was definitely at attention, and at what I guess was about 8" looked huge on his short squat body. He stood with legs akimbo so his balls weren't sticking completely straight out, sitting on his tree trunk thighs.

"Brick is a very unusual slave, Boi." Herm explained, "he's one of the very few slaves that gets to top men regularly. Apparently there are quite a few big guys that like getting dominated by a midget."

"Fuck you, I ain't no goddamn midget, I was 6'2" before these nut jobs got their hands on me!" 6'2" I thought, how the hell did Lowry shrink his skeleton?

"Whatever you are, you've fisted more than a few clients."

"Damn straight, but you got to fuck that bitch client didn't you, the entertainer? The dyke?" Brick was swinging his hips back and forth, the tip of his cock bouncing against my knee, leaving a slime trail.

"Yeah. Apparently likes women, but still needs a dick now and then. She was pretty kinky. I didn't know women could get that twisted. But who knows when you have that kind of money and celebrity power. It corrupts you."

They both stepped back as we heard the door open again. This time it was three Ken-dolls and Master Simon. He glanced back and forth at us, noting Brick's and my hard cocks. "OK, slaves, what the fuck is up?" We all glanced around nervously.

Brick finally spoke up. "Nothing Master, just giving Toi here," he gestured at me, "some pointers on how to please clients." Brick didn't sound particularly submissive, and he got my new name wrong again.

"Toi huh?" He looked at me. "I like that, it fits, we'll see, I may decide to use it." He crossed his arms. "OK, the guests are coming back. Brick, you're with Mr. Jeff Everett, Herm you're going to satisfy the Sheik, Toilette will take Tom Everett as soon as Master Samson's done using him." Master Simon looked at me. "You, Toi, will go with Mr. Everett for the afternoon."

Master Simon stepped aside and allowed the Ken-dolls to lead us away to our afternoon assignments. I was still quite thirsty and was wondering if I'd get any water.

Apparently not, I was led into Mr. Everett's room where he was sitting down in an overstuffed chair in what appeared to be riding gear, a Ken-doll beside and slightly behind him holding a tray with snacks and a drink. "There you are slave, what took you so long?"

I didn't know what to say, I came as fast as the Ken-doll brought me. "I'm sorry sir, it won't happen again." Mr. Everett nodded.

"Get these boots off me." He gestured at his boots. I squatted down and began pulling them off. He simply smiled at me, sipping whisky from a short glass. They were extremely tight, and I fell back on my butt once trying to get them off, Mr. Everett seemed to enjoy the view of my crotch this gave him. When I had the boots off, Mr. Everett said, "now the socks boy."

I pulled his socks off, his feet had been sweating something fierce. The smell was pungent. Not necessarily bad, but strong. He wiggled his toes. "Clean them." He ordered.

"Excuse me sir?" I asked, not knowing what exactly he meant, his boots?

"My feet, clean them." I looked around for a cloth; I saw the bathroom door and started to get up to get a cloth. "With your mouth, you imbecile. Suck my toes and lick my feet clean!" I blinked in surprise.

Suck his toes? I guess this would sort of be like kissing someone's foot. I hesitantly started. "Pretend they're little cocks boy, suck them like 10 little cocks!" I guess I could do that. So I applied my fellatio class skills to his toes. It was weird, but he really seemed to enjoy it. "Excellent, he murmured."

He finished his whisky, setting it on the tray and out the corner of my eye, I saw him gesture for the Ken-doll to leave. I finished his last toe and began licking the soles of his feet. His toes and feet were salty and moist from sweating. I'd have thought the taste to be nasty, but I guess after drinking piss and eating shit, you start to be able to put things in perspective. His sweaty feet were actually sort of tasty, like licking a pretzel, I guess.

When I finished, he stood up. "Remove my pants." I began unbuckling his belt and then unfastened his tight riding pants. I could see he was straining underneath, his cock pressing against the tight fabric. As I unbuttoned the fly, I noted he wasn't wearing underwear.

In order to pull the tight pants down, I had to squat and push them down his legs. Not by chance, I'm sure, this brought my face in close proximity to his extremely engorged cock. I was on my knees trying to get his pants off when he began twisting slightly, causing his cock to bounce off my cheek.

"God this is great. I knew you'd be a good little slut." I gulped. "Your father and I truly enjoyed our visits here." He moved his cock to the other side of my face as he stepped out of his pants. His left hand came down to my shoulder, keeping me from getting up as he began batting my other cheek, I could feel the precum smear across my cheek.

"Of course, for the longest time, he didn't want to admit that he'd sired a subservient slaveboy." I said nothing, I tilted my head and started licking his prick, hoping he'd shut up about my father. I didn't want to hear this.

"Eventually, when you turned thirteen, even he couldn't deny what a hot little ass you were developing." He repositioned his dick on my forehead, I began licking his balls and the underside of his cock. "It was about that time, he got his biggest client, and he realized he'd need extra capital to meet their needs." If anything, his cock seemed to be getting harder as he told me this. He angled its tip towards my mouth, I began working the crown.

"You see, his profit came in the markup of the goods. He was a consultant to his client, he examined their needs and then went to his supplier to buy the products and resold them to his client at a markup. And if you need more capital, ughh..." I hit a particularly sensitive spot, right under the tip of his crown. "...doesn't it make sense to finance the product from the `manufacturer' if you will. Great rates, volume incentives etc. Hence his loan from Monroe."

I stopped suddenly, pulling my head back. "Are you saying my dad was a slaver? That he bought and sold slaves? Sex slaves? He wouldn't do that." Mr. Everett grimaced with impatience and shoved his dick back in my mouth. It was all I could do to keep my teeth out of the way.

"What, you admit he was a client, renting slaves, but you think he was too good to buy and sell them? Get real kid." He started pistoning my mouth with his cock; his wiry pubes bouncing against my nose.

"Your father was a slave dealer. I'm a slave buyer, I use them for my overseas operations, and because I buy enough and Monroe and I are buddies, I can buy direct, but most people have to go through a dealer, someone like your dad." He was pounding hard, faster and faster.

"He got in a bit over his head, and was having issues with the payments, so Monroe asked for you as collateral. We all knew you'd be perfect stock, and your dad did too. By using you, he also got the money for very low interest. Even so, it was a close thing, and then he got taken out in the accident. No chance to repay Monroe, and voila, here you are ...NOW!" He began spurting in my mouth, hard, fast.

He pulled out, collapsing back in the chair. He motioned me to come forward and finish licking his cock clean. "Christ, it was all I could do not to take you myself when I heard about the accident. But I knew Monroe wanted you unspoiled." Hugh, he grunted. "The look on your face, the tears, when I told you about the accident was achingly poignant, I wanted to reach out and put my cock in your little pussy mouth so bad."

"But it was worth the wait, worth the training. You're an incredible cocksucker now. Truly living up to your potential." It was all I could do not to let him see tears streaming from my eyes as I licked his prick clean of his residual cum. I couldn't let this bastard see my pain. He seemed to thrive on it too much.

"OK, lay down, at my feet. I need an ottoman." I laid down, his foot coming to rest on my stomach. Sliding down to my cock and balls. "What? aren't you hard? Doesn't hearing about your old man make you want to spurt? It does me." He gently drug his big toe over my slavehood, the damn thing sprung back into action.

"Ahh, that's better, such a sweet little thing." He laughed, "I love cockettes like that." He continued to play with my cock with his foot, trying to see how close he could get me to cumming, without allowing me too. Every now and then lifting my balls with his toes and then letting them drop back down to my thighs. I tried to focus on my anger, tried to make my dick wilt so he couldn't play his game, but it was no good. My damn slavehood had a mind of its own and it wasn't speaking to me.

Chapter 16

[Back into the fray, Hardcore again. Jump to Chpt. 17]

Mr. Everett demanded that I help him get ready for dinner. Apparently that involved blowing him one more time and reaming his ass. Thankfully he didn't need to shit. But he did need to piss after his whisky.

His piss was definitely strong, almost a rich, yet slightly rancid taste, could that be from the whisky? I didn't recall his taste a whole lot from the other day. What I could, was similar. At this point I was so damn thirsty for water, I didn't mind the pissing. What I minded was that when he was done, I wasn't thirsty any more. This was not good.


When we went out to dinner, I was reassigned back to Tom, who smirked when he saw my head between his legs under the table. I could see he had some plans in mind. Dinner went much like the night before, but this time there was more conversation and fewer entertainments. We slaves ended up providing most of it. Tonight, Jeff had the green guy for his receptacle and Mr. Everett had the slave with the super sized cock.

Tom seemed to take particular pleasure in pissing in my mouth. You'd have thought he'd had enough fun with Toilette this afternoon. He was drinking a lot of water and a lot of wine. I was getting totally bloated, and again a bit woozy.

After dinner, a Ken-doll took me to bathe and relieve myself, I had to do so both at the beginning and the end, Tom had pissed so much in me. When I got back to Tom's room, he was bathed, still slightly wet, and while tipsy, definitely more sober than last night.

"Bend over faggot!" He ordered me. I complied and he came up behind me. "I want to try some of the buttons Simon told me about." His cock was raging hard already as he came up behind.

He wasted no time in getting his stick in my hole. He banged it in and out without much ceremony at first, but then reached down and tickled my belly button in a weird way. Suddenly I felt my ass clench around his pole, I closed my eyes as I felt my ass go into pattern 17. Shit! They'd shown him how to play me.

Tom stood there, moving only slightly and moaning as my ass worked his dick over. I wasn't sure if I could stop it, I wanted too, but was scared to try. It wasn't fair! I wasn't a fucking vibrator! Was I?

Tom reached around, leaning over me and hugged me tight at first and then began cupping my pecs in his hands, gently teasing my tits. My cocklette sprang to attention. Tom twisted his hand a bit more and I felt my asshole begin pattern 14. Tom moaned in my ear. "You've fucking spoiled me for chicks you little cuntwad. How the fuck can any normal bitch stand up to your magic ass-pussy and your sweet boy-boobs?" He squeezed my chest, my breasts, like I was a woman or something. I could feel the way his hands curved to surround my tits so I knew part of what he was saying was true, my giant pec muscles were like monster boy boobs.

Christ, I suppose Herm's weren't all that much bigger than mine, just a lot softer, mine were pretty much hard muscle with a thin layer of fat, hers were real boobs, but size wise...I blushed, my cocklette felt really weird and I felt my balls tightening in their sack, hugging closer to my body. Tom started rocking on top of me as he began nibbling on my back and shoulder blades through my hair.

Shit! He hit the spot, argh that felt so good. Again he hit it, his cock playing up and down as I squeezed it. His boy cock was so much better than the dildos I practiced on, his moved in and out and I had to adjust to try and still hit the right points. It was challenging, but fun, yeah...I tried to guide him in his thrusts with my ass muscles, guide him to hit my electric spot. When I did, shivers would run up and down my spine. Fuck yeah.

He was twisting my nipples gently, rubbing my pecs up and down, and around. His thin, but firm, thighs bouncing off my ass cheeks. So good. Suddenly he jerked, pulling my titties as he stood up to thrust hard in my ass! He came, I came, the pain in my tits meshing with the electric buzz as he hit my spot, my own cum bursting from my cock. We both groaned.

"Fuck!" Tom exclaimed, breathing heavily. My hands were on my knees and I too was breathing hard. I felt his cock, still firm, but softening as he pulled it from my asshole with a small plop.

He pushed on my hip, urging me to turn around. I did, bringing my face into contact with his cock. Knowing my duty I took it and began sucking it clean, removing the cum and the juices from my hole. I had to admit, my hole juice, and I could taste it, above and beyond Tom's cum, was rather tasty; it definitely added a good flavor to Tom's man-boy nectar.

By this point I wasn't surprised when after about three or four minutes, Tom let go a stream. I drank it, washing down the cum and ass juice in my mouth with his piss. The warm liquid pouring down my throat.

As I suckled the last drops from his now soft prick, Tom gently eased me down on to the ground, onto my back. His lips suckled gently at my teats. My slavehood springing back to its rigid 3 " attention. I closed my eyes, simply enjoying the sensation of Tom's lips on first one, then the other of my tits.

Stupid fucking me! God fucking damn it! I suddenly realized what he was up to as I felt his balls brush against my chin! He'd been quietly, secretly, moving into position! The mother fucker!

"Tom, please, no!" I pleaded, my eyes opening in fear.

"Don't cry my little shithole buddy!" Tom said half loving, half learing. "This is what you were made for, even Monroe admitted it to me today! You were born to eat shit!"

"Please Tom, for our friendship? I don't want to." I was sobbing again.

"I'm sorry my little pussy boy," his hands were cupping my balls. "I'm not your friend, you're my toilet and I'm going to use you. Besides, it's good for you, helps you grow strong bones and such!" His thumb flicked my cock. Which, son of a bitch, was still rock hard.

His asshole closed over my mouth as he began squeezing my balls. I knew what was up. I tried to struggle, but he sat down harder, and this time with no mattress, his ass cheeks seem to mold even tighter over my face. I finally opened my mouth, even as I felt the first prying on my lips. In it came, I was powerless to stop it.

I decided I'd try to swallow as fast as possible so I wouldn't have to taste it. Tonight's was softer, moister, more like peanut butter. I didn't want to think of it that way. I couldn't think of it as food. That was what they wanted. It didn't taste like food, it tasted more like chalky sludge. It should have tasted bad though, this was just sort of there. Not bad, not good, just there, something filling my mouth. Even the scent didn't bother me, like I knew it should have.

What the fuck was happening to me?

Again, he made me clean him with my tongue, he moaned and told me to go further. I didn't want to, but since what had been in there was now in me, I guessed it really didn't matter. I cried, I couldn't believe I was doing this, how had I got here, why wouldn't I, didn't I, stand up for myself? Why wasn't I brave enough to take whippings and punishment?

"Fuck!" Tom moaned as I moved my tongue around. "You've got me hard again already!" He complained.

"I'm too hot to wait for you to go clean your mouth up." He got up and turned himself around, then brought himself down again, like he was going to do push ups over my head, his cock aiming for my face. "When you've finished me, you make sure you clean my dick good! I don't want no shit on it."

With tears in my eyes I started sucking on his prick, the chalky taste still in my mouth. I fell back to one of the most popular routines from class, trying to blow him by rote if you will. My fucking cock still hard. Damn thing.

When he came, he came long and full. He collapsed on top of me, his pubic hair grinding into my nose and eyes, his cock still in my mouth, his legs spread one between each of my arms and torso.

And then, as was becoming his habit, he had to piss again. How the hell much piss could he have in him? It was anti-climactic, literally, at this point, I didn't care.

Actually I did, it was liquid. As he pissed, I let it build in my mouth, trying to swirl the warm fluid around to rinse my mouth of the chalky gunk. Fuck! Was that Tom's snores I was hearing?

 

Chapter 17

After what seemed like an eternity, I decided Tom was asleep. I slid myself carefully out from under him, dislodging his now recumbent cock from my mouth. As gently as possible I picked him up, actually not as hard as I might have thought, my workouts must have done some good, and got him to bed.

I spread him out, and then took my assigned position between his legs. I closed my eyes to get what rest I could. Thankfully, he'd pissed himself out a bit better tonight and so only woke a couple times needing to relieve himself. So I slept better.

I actually awoke before Tom the next morning, perhaps my paranoia about another surprise breakfast. I decided I should get the show on the road. Maybe that way I could hasten my own exit to a bathroom and doing something other than waiting for "gifts" from Tom.

So I began one of the more complicated techniques we'd learned in class, and soon had his cock rigid even though he was asleep. It actually only took a few minutes before he groggily awoke.

"Crap what a wet dream!" He frowned for a second and then looked down and saw me working his pole. I was watching him out of the top of my eyes, he got a total shit eating grin on his face. "Fuck yeah," was all he said. He clasped his hands behind his head, propping it up to watch me go to work on his meat.

He was quiet, other than some intense moans the entire time. Half the time in fact, he had his eyes closed. I don't know if it was out of spite, or out of a desire to keep him complacent and so not thinking of doing other things, or what it was, but I decided to do like my gym slave. I paid very close attention, using my class lessons, observing his body and I brought him close. But then I'd switch tactics to something designed to reset his cum clock but also make him wince in pleasure. Perhaps I meant it in some way as a warning to Tom, to not mess with fire.

I have to say. I was proud of myself. I took it as a challenge of everything I'd learned. I kept Tom rigid and in mind numbing pleasure for an hour and a half. But by that point I was getting sore, my jaw was aching, as were my arms as I tried to get more comfortable positions to work from. So I decided to let him come.

I timed it to the second. For my finale I did a number of quick build ups and release, shortening the down time and response time. I shortened the length of time of build up and reset, thus essentially winding him up for a quick explosion. I did this with a combination of my tongue, my lips, my fingers and hands. By this point Tom was sobbing in pleasure, gasping and begging me to let him cum. Yet afraid the pleasure would stop.

When he was least expecting it, when I knew he feared it might go on forever, I pushed the final sweet spot his dick with my tongue and shoved my wet finger up his chute!

Tom screamed as his dick exploded in my mouth, gusher after gusher, he moaned and moaned. I heard the door band open as Ken-dolls, Jeff and his dad stormed in to the room, thinking something had happened to Tom.

As they came in, worried, Tom saw them out of his pleasure-tear stained eyes and he laughed at their expressions. Or tried to, he was totally out of breath from his cumming.

"Tom are you all right?" His dad asked.

"Shit. No! I just died and went to heaven!" He laughed some more, still on a high from the 90 minute pleasuring.

Master Simon entered the room. Apparently Tom's commotion had generated a lot of attention. "I can't believe the little fucker." Tom gasped. He looked at the clock on the wall. "The squirt blew me for an hour and a half for the most insane never ending pleasure ride of my life. I swear he burnt out every nerve in my groin!"

Everett was laughing and Jeff was glaring jealously at Tom. Master Simon simply had his hands on his hips staring at me as I looked over my shoulder, Tom's deflating cock against my cheek. I licked a drop of cum between my lips and Tom's cock and simply smiled at Master Simon.



A Ken-doll took me to a bathroom, where once again I relieved myself into a cup and then had to use the chamber pot to exude another stone like thing. He then bathed me, but oddly enough, whereas before he'd always had a neutral expression, this time he seemed to be smiling, a little. Maybe I'd done good?

I was allowed to rest in the sitting room for a few hours, but no other slaves were present. Having nothing better to do, I simply slept. Actually I have no idea how long I slept, all I know is that I was eventually led out to a smaller dining room, but with a similar table, and was once again stationed under Tom's chair. This time it was just the Everett's, Dr. Monroe, Master Samson and Master Simon.

The hairy slave, or rather a hairy slave, hair color and build were the only real way to tell these guys apart, was assigned to Mr. Everett and Brick was handling Jeff. No one was in front of Dr. Monroe nor Simon and Samson.

This time instead of wearing togas they were simply wearing normal shirts with no pants, shoes or socks. Apparently planning on putting those on later? In any event I started in on Tom and he winced. Apparently I'd left him a bit sensitive. So instead I started lapping at his thighs and regions I'd been less attentive to this morning.

I didn't pay much attention to the conversation. Instead I eventually began working my way down his leg. I decided I sort of liked the taste of his leg. It was sweaty from whatever he'd been doing outside this morning and the salty taste was rather nice. Sort of like when I'd sucked his dad's toes. Only Tom's was lighter. Perhaps because he was younger? I don't know. In any event, I eventually made my way down and began sucking on his toes.

I was on his left foot when I heard music to my ears. "So Tom," Monroe stated, "did you enjoy your visit? Ready to go home?"

"Oh yeah, I can't begin to tell you how fantastic it was. I could stay here forever! I'm definitely not ready to go home and back to school."

Dr. Monroe laughed, as did Jeff and Mr. Everett. "I'm glad you enjoyed it Tom." Dr. Monroe told him. "You know, Samson here was very impressed by your whipping skills." I couldn't quite catch what was said, but I think it was a modest thanks from Tom.

"And Simon and I were very impressed by the way you handled Toi." So now Monroe was calling me Toi. I guess that was my name for real now. I think I liked Boi a lot better. While someone demeaning, Boi was more like a nickname with them, whereas Toi, with Monroe, was not only more demeaning, but also more ominous? Actually it was Brick's fault for screwing up my new name to Master Simon.

"Who?" I heard Tom ask puzzled. I didn't hear anything but Tom suddenly said "Oh, him!' and wiggled his feet in my hands. Apparently someone had pointed under the table.

"I've been speaking with your father. As you may be aware, your brother Jeff, as the eldest, will most likely take over most of your father's operations." I felt Tom tense, I'm not sure he was aware of that.

"I, on the other hand, need high quality staff, people with a gift for handling and training slaves." Dr. Monroe stated. Now I went tense, pausing for a moment.

"Would you be willing to consider an apprenticeship here? with the Masters?" Dr. Monroe asked. "As our operations grow we are needing more and more handlers, Simon and Samson's staffs are overworked with all the slaves. We need more good people. Would you like to learn their job? Learn how to be a Slave Master?"

Tom's breath caught in his throat. My stomach fell about three feet. No. I did not want Tom on this island as my master, bossing me around, shitting in me whenever he felt like it. I thought I was going to be sick.

"Are you serious? Really?"

"Hot damn, what a deal!" Jeff stated. "You lucky S.O.B."

"Very serious Tom, your dad agrees it would be very good for you to know the slave business inside and out. You can study and work with us here, and then when you are older you can decide if you want to work here permanently or perhaps take over your father's slave operations worldwide?"

Fuck. Of all the shitty things. Why the fuck does he get this and I'm stuck on this end. Life wasn't fucking fair. I think I felt like crying again. I couldn't keep this up.

"Dad?" Tom asked breathlessly.

"It's up to you son. And your mom. I'm thinking you're going to have to do a good song and dance to explain why you want to go off to a boarding school in the South Pacific."

"Mom...shit. What would I tell her? She doesn't know does she?" Tom asked.

"No, but she does know that Dr. Monroe has a top tier boarding school on his island specializing in biopharmaceutical research. Top academic credentials.

"Shit, yeah. I want to!" Tom blurted.

"Excellent." Dr. Monroe stated. "Then as soon as you return home, you can begin convincing your mother and wrapping up things there so you can return here to start your apprenticeship."

"Excellent." It sounded like Tom and Jeff high fived each other. I finished off Tom's feet and tuned out the rest of lunch. I was too depressed to care. This couldn't be happening. Would my torment never end?



After lunch a Ken-doll led me back to the sitting room. Given that the Everett's were leaving I didn't know what I was going to be doing next. Other than being depressed. I just rested my head in my hands.

After about twenty minutes the door opened, I slowly looked up to see Master Simon come in, shutting the door behind him. I stood slowly, looking at his feet.

"Well, Toi," Master Simon said, pleasantly enough for him, "it seems that you have taken to your lessons quite well. You certainly performed all required duties, and I admit I am very satisfied with you."

"Your fellatio instructor will be very pleased with your performance this morning. And we are all happy at how your body is coming along." I paled slightly. Dejectedly, I looked up at Master Simon, resigned, for the moment, to my fate, not knowing how to fight it.

"I would have you note that I have begun calling you Toi, as did Dr. Monroe. This is important." Master Simon looked down at me archly. "As I and Dr. Monroe have told you, slaves do not have names, since they are objects. However, for pragmatic reasons, we do give them designations while they are here. Once sold, their new master decides what, if any designation they shall have.

"In any event, here on the Island, we never give slaves designations until they have completed their program. And then Dr. Monroe or one of the Masters selects the designation. We do not allow slaves to self designate. Understand?" I nodded.

"However, since Dr. Monroe was pleased with your performance this weekend, and because you did choose a designation for yourself that is completely appropriate to your function and status, Dr. Monroe has decided to make it your official designation, while on the Island. Ahead of schedule. This is significant, and an honor. Do not, however, let it go to your head. Slaves do not have pride. Do you understand me?" Master Simon commanded more than asked.

I didn't have the courage to tell him that it wasn't the name I chose, that Herm had picked a name out, and Brick had screwed it up in conversation with him. "Understood, sir." I returned to staring somberly at his feet. I really couldn't see the point in getting excited about a name, particularly that name. I suppose I should have been, it does restore a sense of self, not being nameless anymore.

Master Simon frowned. "What's the matter Toi? You should be happy that you have pleased us so much."

"I'm sorry sir, it's just that, well..." I didn't dare mention my concern with Tom.

Master Simon snorted. "What? Are you concerned about the Everett boy coming here to train in the Handler's program?" I nodded, and hung my head.

Master Simon sighed. "I suppose I understand. And ONLY, because I am pleased with your performance this weekend, I will provide you with some information." I looked up. "However, I am NOT telling you this, and I will whip you to shreds if you ever imply that I did." I nodded.

"One does not just walk in here and start handling slaves. It is not the sexual playground that I am sure he imagines. The Island is a business, first, foremost and above all else. As I know you've seen, we have very high standards for all of our people and we demand utter loyalty and discipline from everyone, not just slaves. We are an extremely high-tech 21st century corporation working on the bleeding edge of science. We exist to produce high quality, very expensive products; such as yourself. Any handler who's in it for the sex, is not going to last. I will guarantee it."

"Young Everett faces a long and arduous apprenticeship. Many do not make it. Some fail miserably, even as your Peter failed as a tech." I blinked and looked up at Master Simon. "As you have seen, the consequences of failure are severe."

"Even if he does pass all his tests, and learn his lessons, it is still not that simple. In all cases, handlers are special. Like the slaves, they too undergo modifications." I blinked in surprise. He flexed his own enormous muscles. "Some of which are as painful as the ones you've experienced."

Master Simon chuckled. "So don't worry about your ex-friend. A few years from now, when, and if, he is allowed to handle slaves without supervision, he won't be the same boy he is today. And who knows, you will most likely have been sold by then."

"Now. It's time to take you back to your cell. This has been a distraction from your program. With luck we should be able to get you back on track quickly." Master Simon's face hardened.

"Heel Toi," Master Simon commanded and we headed back to the dungeon.