PZA Boy Stories

Dirt

The Boxing of a Boy

(and Three Other Slave-Boy Chronicles)

[Part Two]

Jeremy Black

The boy in my arms was totally amazing! Absolutely totally! I was swimming in the afterglow of the best orgasm I'd ever had. The boy was amazing. Sexy. Arousing. I could do anything I wanted with his cute small light brown body. I couldn't stop running my hands all over. And my mouth. He said that his grandparents had been born on old earth. Some place called Thailand and I asked him if all kids there were as cute as he was. And the boy was so absolutely delightful as he pretended to be hurting so bad when I pushed my modest 7 inch [18 cm] cock into his amazingly tight and velvety butt hole. I didn't even have to use a lubricant. He said he'd been modified and I didn't need any. I was going to have to ask him about that modified thing but right now I was getting so horny all over again. Holy damn! The boy was right. That small liquid that I swallowed when I sucked his delightfully stiff little penis did indeed work! He said that it would make me so horny and all kinds of other stuff to me that if I was like any of his other customers I'd be using his body many times over the next several hours.

And later, after some time to 'rest up' and 'recuperate' we started all over again. He seemed to like it when I took complete charge of his little body bending him into different positions. Even when he was screaming he sounded like he was enjoying things as much as I was. We had to shower again but this time the boy led me to a hot tub with all kinds of water jets. There was also something in the water that soothed both mind and body.

I finally started getting hungry and asked Judd where the absolutely best restaurant was.

"Well master," he seemed to bubble with enthusiasm, "There are four really good places right here in Gentry Mansion, but the absolutely BEST place is the one overlooking Bottomless Chasm, which is actually 3,282 feet [1000 m] deep. And there are three roaring water falls you can see right from the upper turret room. I've only been there once before. I've only been a slave here for three months."

"3,282 feet [1000 m] ? Can't be any more precise?"

He giggled. "Master, it was the very firstest place I was brought. And the man I was with wondered how long I'd scream before I'd hit bottom. The sign seemed to etch itself into me."

"You keep calling me master."

It was really strange not just getting called master, but taking in the fact that this boy was an actual slave. I sure knew they existed and had even seen some a few times, but this was somehow so different. And the kid – he looked to be about seven or eight, the size kid I REALLY liked having sex with. His cute light brown boner stuck out straight about two inches [5 cm] and was perfectly formed. His even darker brown scrotum barely showed any testicles and when I first got him onto the huge bed I couldn't stop fondling them it, the wrinkled velvety texture so turned me on. And it made it so much better as he giggled and squealed in such delight. He kept telling me to stop molesting him and even pleaded with me to stop but it was so obviously all an act. But such an arousing and delightful act. He was so perfect. His dark Oriental looking body – less than 4 feet [1.20 m] in height – was exactly what I found so perfectly perfect. He was so close to the image I kept fucking in most of my best fantasies. And now it was REAL!

He looked at me with a serious look. "All you guys are my masters."

I liked the kid better when we were no so serious. But now I was curious, so I kept asking the boy questions as we showered and then dressed. I had another orgasm in the shower when he swallowed me whole – all seven inches [18 cm]. The feeling as he sucked and squeezed and even vibrated his throat was almost mind blowing. I couldn't even have done something like that. The kid was well trained. My questioning suddenly stopped for a good while. But finally we were drying each other with humongous soft towels.

"Ok, this restaurant. How do we get there?"

"No problem master. I'll show you if you wish. I can even eat there if you bring me."

He wasn't being very subtle. He kept giving those amazingly inviting looks, and kept wiggling his little dimpled butt, promising even better orgasms later. I had all I could do not to ravish him again. I think he'd even had more orgasms than I did. He sure shook a lot and even bucked his body a number of times in amazingly strong convulsions. And I loved attacking him and making him climax almost as I loved doing the same. And that was another thing I wanted to ask him about. How come he seemed to be just as aroused sexually as I was. He was only seven years old after all. (I found out that a while back. It was his actual chronological age).

He wound up not just showing me but even arranged for transportation for the both of us. "It can only be reached by a pony cart. No vehicles aloud."

I remembered hearing about all kinds of fantastic things here and read up on this place but it took me a few moments to remember that the ponies were actually boys!

"Oh yeah. How do I arrange this ride?"

"I have a com on my wrist master in my slave cuff. Just give me the order and I will arrange it. You want pony-boys or real ponies, master?"

"Real ponies?"

"Well they're still boys but they been changed into actual ponies. But they can still think and everything. They even eat normal food. They just look like small ponies."

I was utterly intrigued. "Go ahead. Do we need reservations at the restaurant?"

"Yes master but there's sure to be no wait. Not this early master."

That was when I looked out through the large bow window and realized we'd been having sex all evening and all night long!

"But master, you have to put me in my harness and put me on a leash. Else I can't leave the building. Well 'less you insist."

I soon discovered that he was not being entirely truthful. The harness and leash was a common method of bringing a slave with you but it wasn't mandatory. The boy just liked being trussed up like that. He said the body harness and leash made him feel so sexy. I had him pretty well trussed up with straps around his little chest, over his shoulders, and under his groin around his small brown genitals and up his butt crack.

"And I REALLY like being having my arms bound behind me so I can't hardly move them and there are all kinds of neat other stuff in that room right there."

He pointed to a smaller room immediately off the bedroom that was part of the five room suite. And I sure knew about all that stuff but to actually SEE all that bondage gear, and especially those really cruel looking restraints – well it was amazing.

"Judd, you LIKE all that stuff done to you?"

He seemed to become animated. "YEAH! It makes me feel SOOO sexy."

One control I touched and a drawer opened showing all kinds butt plugs. The boy seemed to light up when I picked up a particularly gruesome looking one with bumps all over it. I looked down at him. "Will this fit?"

He smiled. "That one's pretty scary."

I picked up another one a bit smaller and just some small ribs coiling down its sides. I released his butt crack strap and he squealed quite loudly as I shoved it home. Then he started thrashing all around and was screaming. I was appalled. I tried to pull the thing out when I saw his tears. Just as suddenly he stopped screaming and just lay still panting. I grabbed him and he gave me a weak smile. "That's one of the torture ones. Thanks for stopping it."

That was when I saw the few control spots on the bottom. I finally replaced it for one that was totally inert, anchoring it inside him with his harness strap. He directed me toward the entrance we needed straining against his harness as I was pulled forward by his leash. I absolutely loved the feeling of control and possession. For a moment I thought about wishing I could have my own boy slave. Alas. Eschewing the lift, we went down the stairs, and he started telling me about being modified when I asked him about how that big plug – at least its mere size – didn't seem to hurt him al all.

"Well I've been changed. They did stuff to us so we would enjoy all that sex stuff and being tied up and have all that stuff done to us. They said I'd have liked some of it anyway but they just made me enjoy it even more."

"Hay Judd, I was wondering. Do you remember growing up? And do you not mind being a slave?"

Judd got serious for once. "Yeah. My dad sold me though. He said I needed to help the family. I cried a lot then but now I'm happy again. They said they took away my sad mem'ries. I'm glad." Then the boy brightened again. "I been here a few months already and I really like it here. Most you guys treat me real good. 'Specially when you make me have such great 'gasms."

"And you don't mind being a slave?"

He looked at me like I was stupid. "I AM a slave. I can't be anything else. And they made me like what's done to me. Or mostly. I'm not scared no more at least."

But I couldn't help wondering about all the boys here who were treated not so well. I knew that there even were dungeons here where all kinds of things were done to the boys. But I stopped worrying about things I couldn't do anything about and decided to just enjoy myself. And as we awaited for our carriage – a cute naked 10 year old black slave, in hotel harness, showing us to the correct entryway – I started thinking that this slave with me was so close to what I like to have in my life – permanently. But he'd cost more than I'd be making over the next five years. I knew part of that modification he'd talked about, and which kept him a permanent seven year old, was quite outrageously expensive.

I was taking in the beautiful countryside in the morning mist and light and musing about philosophical matters when the carriage came and I was astounded all over again. I couldn't believe that the two miniature ponies pulling the carriage – the slave boy called it a calash – had once been actual boys. They looked exactly like the real thing. Except they obeyed voice commands in addition to the bits in their mouths.

I was fascinated by their so perfectly formed horse – or pony – bodies. When we got to our destination – which was spectacular enough to take my attention away from the ponies for a while – I couldn't help running my hands all over the ponies' bodies. Especially their so obvious male parts. And the penis extended and became stiff on one of the ponies as I rubbed its sheath. The miniature pony did not have such miniature genitals. He kept neighing most of the time and I was told that they even had orgasms while they were trotting. It was some kind of incentive for them. I was astounded. The pony kept rubbing me with its head as I was ribbing its penis. And I just had to try it. I addressed the pony I'd been handling.

"Do you understand me pony?'

I was surprised when he whinnied loudly and nodded. Apparently they couldn't speak. (I was surprised to discover that even the regular pony boys couldn't speak either. And they were trained to be very passive). Wow. And I wondered about something else. As I walked my slave on his leash and harness into the restaurant, I was led into an opulent room with a view of a two hundred foot [60 m] water fall and a yawning canyon.

After being seated and having ordered 'breakfast' I asked my slave boy: "Judd, I was wondering. Those ponies. Does anyone actually use them somehow for sex?"

"Sure master. They are very close to ponies but they eat real food and their mouths are a bit different. Their tongues are smooth and not like real ponies. At least I'm told. And they will do anything you ask. Their butt holes are supposed to be great to fuck. And I've seen one client stay in bed with two of them for three days straight. They's supposed to give out a mighty powerful afrodisdick. Right out of their peckers like me. But I'm tiny compared."

I laughed as the boy's pronunciation of aphrodisiac. And the steak and eggs were superb. Judd at first knelt on the floor next to me but I insisted he sit on the same cushioned bench. Soon I had his naked bottom (with butt plug) sitting on my lap and was feeding him out of my own plate. I wound up ordering a repeat performance. And both the special coffee and liquor was the best I'd ever had. I was sure glad the menus had no prices on them. I'd probably been afraid to order that second meal. But my boy ate almost as much as I did. And I was even more thankful this was all already paid for. My slave boy asked one of the waiters to bring me a com pad and he told me there was a raffle coming up in a few days. I didn't even read what was the prize. No one – no one I'd ever known anyway – ever won anything like that anyway so what was the point?

Later that day Jerome was in the luxurious bed with Judd fast asleep on top of him holding him tightly in his little arms. Jeremy had been dreaming. Not sleep dreaming but wishing dreaming. If he could have a slave just like Judd. Or something close. He was also thinking that he'd look into all that bondage gear available in the next room. And maybe see about what else was in the Slave Index, the database available for guests to see all the possible boys available to them. That little black kid was awfully cute even if a little old – must have been 10 at least. And the little ring swinging at the end of his stiff three inch [7½ cm] coal black penis. He was in a Hotel Harness so he should be available. And maybe later in the week he'd start checking out some of the more unusual venues. He'd never actually seen – except in a holo – a part boy, part animal before. Or maybe he'd get a boy he was allowed to torture. Well tomorrow 3;

Number 6

I was thinking about my future and there was three things I was really scared about. And unfortunately all I was allowed to do right now was think. After the slave doc gave me that big total scan, I was then put into this hanging cage in a place I'd never been called the 'Hall of Boys' which sure is just that – a huge hall with boys all over the place. Boys on lounges, boys in cages, boys in chains, boys in bondage gear, boys in total absolute restrictive encasements, boys affixed to torture frames, 3; well I can't see the far end of the hall but I suspect it was the same. All boys ready and willing, or not so willing, to cater to the desires and lusts of all the clients. It was so strange for me to see such activity since mostly I was used in more private settings. Or on infrequent occasions, in one of the dungeon rooms.

But now it was near morning and I was alone in one of three small cages near the entrance of the hall. Three cages with three boys being raffled off in two days. And that was one of the things I was scared about. Who might be my new master? Would he treat me good? I SO wanted someone who I could be with who not just wanted a sex slave, but also a boy. And after almost 12 years here being with both there was a real great difference. I could be a real good slave to someone who also wanted a boy. And I wondered if my new master would give me a name. I couldn't even remember what my name had been.

In fact there were three things I've not been able to remember. My name, what my penis looked like, or what it felt like to be able to talk.

Would I ever get a name?

Would my penis ever start working?

Would I ever be able to talk?

Well in about two hours slave doc will see if the last two can happen. Then back in my cage so the patrons can see all three boys who would be raffled off. The far cage held a cute blond boy, but it was that dark brown boy in the cage next to mine who astounded me. I'd heard of them but never saw a part boy part animal before up close. His whole bottom half was dark skinned and well looked like a small goat with hoofs and white fur. Except where his boy parts, or I guess I should say goat parts, hung. They weren't very big but wow they sure seemed to work. I could see a dark cream brown colored penis extending now and again from his sheath. The head and testicles were much darker. And he had the cutest tiny horns sticking up near his sticking up ears. It was difficult to figure if he was smiling because his small snout wasn't quite boy looking. And he sure attracted a crowd. And the way he liked to show his penis, I think he really liked all that attention.

And I wondered if the person who won me would be keeping me or selling me at auction or something. I hoped 3;

Vasili Dumitrov

I had been engaged by the Buddingo brothers, the owners of Xanadu

Resorts, Inc., to insure the safe transportation of both Randy Bobbicks, the boy destined to be sealed within 'Box number seven' from BoyToys, Inc. where he has just been modified, to the Xanadu Pleasure dome resort almost half a world away. Normally, a routine secure transport, as used for most valuable property, would have been used to transport slave boys from the BoyToys labs to their assigned destination, but this shipment was something special. This would almost be a vacation rather than a mission with any difficulty but as the brothers told me: "That boy absolutely, positively, MUST get to the 'Hall of Boys' by the assigned date. There can be NO other outcome. We have literally millions tied up in this 'Boy Boxing' event."

And a vacation I decided to make it. Since I had decided to lease an air transport with pilots and ground crew – all paid for by the Buddingo brothers – I decided to visit a few of the Federal Parks in that area of the world I'd always wanted to see but had previously been too busy. Of course I ordered my slave boy to prepare all our itinerary and take care of the logistics. I merely told him of three destinations I wanted included. And I enjoyed watching Kon's simple amusement as he had to try on all his new clothing. Unlike most of the Aligned Nations, the Federal Nature Parks and Reserves of Junescu did not allow public nudity even by prepubescent slaves.

Kon Yan

I was quite excited as we made land fall at the highest airfield on the planet, fully 19,000 feet [5.8 km] above sea level. And my master and I arrived during one of the few months when the weather permitted walking outdoors with only light cold weather gear. As I walked in front of my master – I kept looking back trying to gage exactly how fast to walk to stay within permitted distance – I was experiencing all manner of emotions. It was quite strange being with my master and not being on leash. I felt just a bit insecure even though I have many times operated without him being within 500 miles [800 km]. But somehow this was different with my master being there but me walking about without harness or leash.

First of all my penis was getting so frustrated. (And this was the only real negative of what was really an exciting trip for me). Master had put a force-field limiter attachment on my genitals which bent my penis downward and stopped it from being 'irritated' by the covering material. I had never realized how sexually arousing it would be to actually walk around in the public with clothing on. And the clothing rubbing my usually stiff 3 inch [7½ cm] boner wasn't the entire story. Even with the limiter on I still was so utterly aroused and almost as much so self conscious. I kept thinking that everyone must be staring at me. But this was actually all so exciting, although I just hated having my penis not have its usual freedom. But I sure had fun trying on all that clothing. It was quite an unusual experience. Except for protecting coverings at infrequent intervals, I had worn nothing but my slave collar, cuffs, harnesses, and at varying frequency my plugs and other restrictive attachments for most of my life. But none of this could possibly be construed as clothing. I think that first hour I had tried on at least 20 different outfits.

And now here I was leading my master toward the big lodge almost as if I were a free boy. It was strangely exciting and disquieting at the same time. And I laughed as the attendant greeted me as 'Master Yan.' My laugh died in my throat when I looked back and saw that 'your-in-deep-trouble' smile on my master's face.

Although part of my modification included being less susceptible to cold – thus being naked was usually no big problem – I was more than happy to be wearing clothing when we got out of the transport and onto the Dominion Ice Sheet, the largest on the continent. The alpine terrain, glaciers, water falls coming right out from under the ice sheets, the beautiful lakes were all almost too much to take in. And I didn't hardly feel the effects of the hiding I took the night before. (Though my butt hole was a bit sore and THAT really takes quite a bit of hard use). It didn't matter that I was not causatively culpable for my 'crime,' only that I had 'enjoyed' the attendant assuming that I was a free person and not correcting him immediately. (My slave collar was mostly covered by clothing).

And the things my master did to my penis slit and butt hole afterwards made me forget all about the paddle and strap. Just enough pain to get my full attention and to get my 'juices' flowing. I made sure that what I made my mouth and butt hole do for my master made HIM forget all about the REASON for the paddle and strap.

But it was what happened on the last day of our vacation which eventually led me to discover firsthand just how effective the punishment mode of the SafeSecure™ Transport Boy Cage could be. [Note: See story entitled: 'SafeSecure™ Transport Boy Cage']. And I have to admit that I definitely deserved my punishment but I insist it was the atypical nature of both our vacation and how I was made to conduct myself during that week – the first time I'd not only been not naked, but without harness or any real restraints for any length of time in years – that I allowed myself to 'enjoy' a conversation with one of the lodge's more 'sexually repressed' guests. It all started during breakfast that last morning when I immediately sat at the table and started ordering through the menu-com without asking permission first. My master chided me openly. The fellow next to us took exception to my master's seemingly maltreatment of his 'son.'

I turned to face him and giggled. "Sir, I'm not his son, I'm his slave."

(That reply included my second misdemeanor – addressing a stranger without permission).

"YOUR'RE one of them!?" he seemed a bit outraged. But not at me. He looked back to my master.

"Yes sir. See my slave collar? I'm only wearing clothes because its required here. Probably why you didn't notice my collar."

"You mean that you were put into slavery at your age? I think that is unconscionable. How much longer is your Indenture?"

I looked 10 years old. I tried to make a tear come to my eye but I couldn't fake it that much. I smiled and started really laying it on. "I'm not Indentured sir. My government sold me."

The man seemed to look like it was he who had been sold. And I could see the man becoming quite agitated and for some reason I found the situation quite humorous. My master just watched.

"That's absolutely abominable." I am not making that up. It was the first time I'd ever heard the word 'abominable' used in a spoken sentence.

He now looked at my master and addressed him: "Have you no decency sir? To actually abet those insane Slavery Laws to go so far as to BUY another human being? I am sure glad they do not allow slavery in my country." (Must have been from Cathland or the other non-aligned nation).

I had all I could do not to laugh. "But sir. My master treats me quite well. And all my slave harnesses and leashes are only of the best workmanship. I'm usually naked all the time and he likes showing me off."

"Naked? Show you off? Leash?" And again he turned to my master: "You treat him like a beast?"

I had to stifle an out right guffaw. "But sir," I replied instead trying to keep his attention. "My master is the most kind master there is. A slave needs discipline, how else can he be made into a good slave?"

Now the guy was visibly shaking. He looked at my master who held a perfectly blank expression. "You have BRAINWASHED this poor boy! Or probably worse."

The man looked at me and continued: "What else does he do to you my poor boy?"

"My master is always kind sir. He only beats me when I deserve it. Like if I don't please him well enough sexually. Or when I hesitate when he gives me a command."

The man now stood and I thought he was going to hit my master. Maybe I went a bit too far. He looked back to me and spoke in a quite forceful manner: "Son, I am quite wealthy. My own aircar I can have here in minutes. I will take you with me and you can be free in my country." He looked at my master and almost spat: "This piece of offal need not abuse you any more."

I now must have looked a bit fearful, but it was not for the reason the guy would have expected. "But sir, it's against the law. And besides my collar. I COULDN'T come with you. If my master commands, and I do not obey, it can debilitate me. And wow does that hurt!"

The man immediately grabbed me and stated: "No longer boy. I've called my pilot. You will be free in less than two hours." He started trying to actually pick me up. My master no longer saw any humor in the situation. He turned to me and in a command voice which can activate the collar stated: "Boy do not allow yourself to go with this man. That is an order."

I now used some of what I learned in my training and easily escaped his hold. I suppose it was some kind of momentary reversion and at the time seemed quite the amusing thing to do, so I turned to my master and pretended to plead: "Please master, don't hurt me again. I really will obey."

By that time a number of other patrons, and several employees including an assistant manager were at our table. Later that day my master accused me of deliberately baiting the poor guy.

"But master can't I have fun now and then?"

My master then chuckled. "It was amusing. But you do realize that your behavior caused no end of trouble."

Hence about five hours later our transport was on its way to the BoyToy labs with me discovering that a SafeSecure™ Boy Cage made for someone 7 inches [18 cm] taller and 35 pounds [16 kg] heavier can STILL be made to accommodate myself and that its Punishment Mode will STILL work. The cage was brought for the transport of the slave to the Xanadu resort. And my master was also making great use of the muffling gag he had brought with us. He said that my occasional screams had been distracting.

Argant Promescue

I absolutely LOVED the way the boy was begging and pleading, and then yelling as he started to install him into his necessary attachments preliminary to his 'boxing.' And in spite of his small body and slim build, it took four strong men to hold him down as I attached the neural stimulator to his penis and genitals. Of course it was part of the show to make sure he was totally unencumbered by drugs and knew exactly what was happening to him.

When the boy had first been released from the SafeSecure™ Boy Cage, there must have been several hundred people in the hall itself watching the event and many hundreds more watching the entire thing in 360holo-view while lounging elsewhere. This Seventh Annual Boy Boxing was also being transmitted to many remote sites for paid viewers and also being recorded. It was quite the production.

The boy was absolutely stunning. Beautiful boy physique of a young prepubescent teen with golden light brown skin and darker highlights in his genital region, butt hole – which was deliberately shown to the audience by the simple expedient of bending him just about in half and forcibly holding him up as the central stage revolved. And it sure got my penis stiff as an iron rod with all his pleading, crying and begging for us to stop. Of course that just got the audience in a fever pitch right from the start. His occasional convulsive movements trying to escape our grasp also heightened the crowds excitement.

When the boy was first released from his tight confining cage I was at first wondering if we had the same boy I had sent on his way to the BoyToy labs several months ago. He was totally without hair. But soon his voice and fighting spirit made it obvious he was the same boy and he even recognized me. I was quite pleased.

He crying pleas as the four men forced him onto the totally clear table – the holo cameras were recording from every angle – almost made my penis split my pants. Of course I was totally relentless.

"Just think boy, in a few hours you will be totally imprisoned in that small box." I pointed and he looked over with total horror written on his face. He made a renewed effort to escape our hold and one of his flailing legs did become loose for a moment. The crowd burst into cheers as many people started rooting for the boy to escape. Of course he'd not get very far. Besides all the security there was a temporary obedience collar on him which we could use to debilitate him – along with administering considerable pain – with a vocal command.

"NOOOO!" His wail rang out above the din.

I had just grabbed his 4 inch [10 cm] hard boner, with its beautifully formed circumcised head, and started pushing the solid probe into his small piss slit forcing it to stretch quite painfully I would have imagined. The rod was about 8 inches [20 cm] long with its starting end with a curve which, when anchored, would perpetually hold the boy's stiff penis in a perpendicular alignment to his body. A tiny mini-cam homed into the procedure and his genitals totally filled a series of holo-monitors around the hall. His legs were now being held wide apart for the very best view. The boy's screaming voice reverberated through the place almost needing no amplification. And I deliberately took several minutes just to insert the rod until only its expanded end came to rest against the glans encircling the boy's piss slit. The rod would soon send its micro tendrils through the walls of the boy's urethra and into his very flesh. Eventually they would merge permanently with his nervous system. From then on he would have absolute no control over the sensations his penis and genitals would be sending to his brain.

When the rod was full seated I then retrieved a strange looking mesh which looked like a haphazard entwining of fine silver wires. I slapped the boy's flank to get his attention.

"Hay boy, if you thought that just wait until I put this around your privates. See this? They will soon cover your entire penis and testicles!"

The boy was now sobbing quite hysterically. I absolute loved every second of his mental torment.

"Please. I beg you please stop. I'll do anything. I promise. Anything."

"Boy, you already ARE doing what we want. Keep crying and screaming. And please keep struggling."

The boy did just that as I spread the exactly shaped silver mesh over his penis shaft and then his small wrinkled brown scrotum. The four big men actually had to exert some force to keep the boy's limbs from flailing too excessively.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" the first of the boy's many screams reverberated off the walls. Almost all the other slave boys had been temporarily removed from the hall and relocated elsewhere. The only ones remaining were three boys in small cages near the front entrance who would be raffled off to some lucky winners after the main event. But those three boys cringed even though they could not actually see the proceedings.

The boy's screams continued as the micro fibers from the invading penial tube and the encasing mesh sunk into his flesh. Two minutes of screams and sobs then suddenly stopped. This would be one of the interesting moments. As the fibers made it final connections to the nerves in the boy's genitals it would cause him to have an instant orgasmic climax probably more intense then he'd ever imagined possible. The boy arched his back suddenly and his legs were pulled upward with such force that the grip of the two men holding him almost lost their grip. Now it was a high pitched moan that escalated into the most long drawn out gasp I'd ever heard. A full minute or more of spasams oscillated throughout the boys body. His breathing came in short gasps as his eyes rolled up in his head. His body then suddenly collapsed as he momentarily passed out. A few moments later his tried to say something but all that came out was gibberish. Eventually I could head a low volume but distinct single word: "Wow!"

The sensitive microphones picked it up and the entire audience showed its appreciation of what had just happened by shouting or some even applauded.

"See boy? You can look forward to many more of the same in the many years to come."

He didn't seem ameliorated. Instead my reminding him of his fate brought another round of sobs. And then pleas.

Next he as turned over and then bent almost in half as the table folded in the middle. We wanted a clear shot of the boy's butt cheeks and dark brown anal ring. Again the mini-cam homed in for a close-up view. The boy again wailed as he felt the next attachment touch his butt hole. It had been modified to take the next attachment which was fully 12 inches [30 cm] long and four inches [10 cm] across. Of course the invasion of his butt hole and rectum, stretching his anal sphincters to the max was not meant to be a pleasant experience. His screams proved that. I gradually pushed the monster butt plug home. It was in fact a means of removing his excrement. It used both mechanical and hydraulic means of keeping his bowel empty. Of course it also had other features. This would be one well fucked boy! His entire rectum would annealed to the plug which would also have its own turn at stimulating the boy sexually, and in its other function, along with the rod and mesh connecting to his genitals, provide quite a sufficient amount of pain on demand.

But now it was merely an inert object raping the boy's rectum. I made sure that the process was long and drawn out. And it was a good thing that the boy's vocal chords were medicated beforehand otherwise he would by now be half voiceless from his screams. And I even smiled as his momentarily freed arm, with one of his convulsive attempts to stop what was happening to him, even hit my face. I just smiled knowing that his own pain, some hours hence, would be inestimably greater.

Finally I was almost sad when the entire 12 inches [30 cm] were embedded. There was a small flange which also covered the entirety of his outer anal ring. And if his wails were loud before, when I touched a control which caused the thing to attach itself to his flesh brought a ear breaking crescendo of a scream.

Unfortunately this attachment only lasted about 12 seconds. By that time the boy had just about collapsed and was now quietly sobbing, with an occasional weakly whimpered "No" added to his moans and sobs.

Too bad I thought as I knew that the small valve attached to the hole in his modified urethra between his butt hole and his now encased testicles had been done in the BoyToy labs. It needed a bit more precision than we could do here. A fitting from this hole extended into the boy's bladder allowing for a constant drain. The valve, presently closed, would be attached to the tube draining his bladder for the remainder of his life.

The only other attachments were his forced feeding mouth and throat gag, and the tubes put into his nostrils to keep him breathing. But these would be put in lace only after his installation into his permanent box is almost completed. After all we want to hear his wails and pleas throughout the proceedings.

Now the difficult part. There was to be a total body network of micro sensors and stimulators placed around his entire body except for his head. And the entire webbing was manufactured to fit him very tightly even so far as separating his fingers and toes. This mesh was an amazing feat of technology and which made the simulation of his future torture sessions possible.

A doctor, who had been monitoring the boy's vitals just then came to us and gave the boy a shot stating to the audience that it was to insure that the boy could continue to give us the best show possible. It contained a stimulant and a revitalize.

The boy almost instantly came out of his seeming stupor and started shouting all over again.

"PLEASE! No more." The words were quite recognizable through his renewed sobs.

The process of putting the boy into the neural web was laborious but satisfying as he tried to kick his legs and hold his hands tightly fisted when we got to that part. His legs were held solidly as the mesh was pulled up his lags like a glove. Then hi truck of his body was with some difficulty pulled up to his arms. Now it was necessary to strap the boy down via straps about his chest, stomach, and upper and lower legs. It required all four men to extend the fighting boy's arms and fingers. Finally first one and the other arm were encased. Then the thing self sealed over his body with only his genitals and head protruding. It made the boy several shades darker as the thousands of minute neural dots covered his body.

I could not resist. I spoke into the boy's ear. If you think the other things were painful this will be even better. I hit the control as I saw the look of stark fear hit the boy's face. It didn't last long. The next was one of pure agony as the neural dots sent millions of micro-fibers into his body connecting to the neural network of his own body. For about a full second he couldn't even make a noise. Then about one of the loudest and most heart rending wails blasted out of his mouth. It was also a good thing that by this time he had been quite well strapped down. Unfortunately it was over all too soon. I was told that the pain left as abruptly as it started. Of course the boy's sobs continued.

The assembly then took a break. The proceedings were sometimes emotionally exhausting to many people and we all needed a break. The boy's continuing wracking sobs were counterpoint to the crowd's excitement and in many cases rabid arousal. During the intermission the boy's 'box' assumed center stage. At this time only the back and floor piece were in evidence. After he was installed into this portion of the box the sides would be put in place. And only after he was totally installed would the top be fused into position, permanently separating the boy into his own three foot by three foot by three foot [90 x 90 x 90 cm] universe.

Number 6

I cringed as I heard the screams and crying coming from the middle of the hall. I couldn't see anything the way my cage was positioned, but I was actually glad. This was a lot different from the screams and yells the day before as different boys were used by their clients. And I was very very glad I didn't know what was happening.

And I kept myself distracted by staring at my own 1 inch [2½ cm] penis. I couldn't stop looking at it. And the wrinkled small lump below it which the slave doctor said held my little testicles. I was wondering if they'd ever actually work,

"Not to be worried boy." The doc tried to reassure me. You had been on drugs to stop any development, but they had been discontinued a week ago. Your genitals will get a bit bigger and your testicles will even drop but not much more will happen. After all you are a permanent 7 year old. But I have stimulated the nerves to grow. In about a month you will be capable of experiencing quite a great orgasm coming from your little boy parts."

Now I was confused. I thought that was what I'd been feeling from my butt hole all these years. I asked the doc about this.

"You are one lucky boy you know. You will eventually be able to experience pleasure from both places. It was how your body was originally modified."

I was quite excited. Real excited and sex excited. I started to rub my penis and the doc smiled.

"You will definitely get a pleasurable feeling by that now but it will take several weeks before you will be capable of genital orgasm. And probably your new owner will give you drugs to make sure you can only get an orgasm by something being shoved that quite cute butt hole of yours."

I also smiled. I sure knew what that was like. I just hoped that my new owner would want to make it even better by bondage-ing me first and doing all that other stuff. Just the idea of being manhandled (literally) had me so sexed up!

And I was amazed that I could now actually talk. The doc said he undid something which I didn't really understand but whatever it worked right away. 'Cept that I could barely whisper at first. Couldn't do much more than that even three hours later.

Doc said that I hadn't used my cords – whatever they were – for 12 years. So they were quite 'rusty.' But just to hear my own voice was totally amazing. I didn't want to stop talking. But my throat started hurting after a while. He sprayed something down my throat that felt much better and he told me not to try to talk too much the first week or so. I really tried to do like he said but the temptation was too great. Until my throat hurts again.

Now I was back in my cage so the people could see the boys being given to the lucky winners. Now this was what most started to worry me. What would my new master be like. And I kept telling myself I was going to be the very best of all slave boys so he would like me a whole lot. And I kept dreaming of having only one person to lease all the time. That was the one thought which I kept thinking over and over again. Well except when I saw my penis and started rubbing it. And I was totally surprised when the doc then took off my chains and never put them back on me. I almost forgot all about being free of them. Of course I still had my cuffs. And my collar and butt plug. Of course the mouth gag and muzzle was off a lot when I had to pleasure on of my clients. And maybe my new master might want me in chains again anyway. I almost hoped so. They were sort of comfortable having them on. Well comfortable wasn't the right word but I couldn't think of the really right one.

And wow I can't believe I'd been a slave for 12 years already. I tried to feel what I felt like before. I mean before I was a slave but I couldn't make any of those feelings happen. In fact it scared the hell out of me. I felt so safe being a slave.

Wow, that time that boy REALLY screamed. I was wondering what they were doing to him and at the same time glad I didn't know. Then I started rubbing my penis again AND thinking about my new master.

Jeremy Black

"Aaaaaaaaahhh," the little boy's yell was almost music to my ears, as I hit the open palms of his hands. I was in one of the dungeons near the Gentry mansion called the Little Boy Prison. I had the boy – a cute 8 year old with smoldering brown eyes and mostly dark brown skin – affixed to a torture table with his arms outstretched horizontal to his body and his legs held up by straps so that they were held wide and his but was pulled a few inches off the table. His arms were the only part of him affixed. I said that he had brown skin but that was only where I had not yet hit him with the short strap. It was only a foot long [30 cm] and soft but stung pretty good. I started with the boy's cute chest. I tried to see if I could hit each individual rib. His screams were so satisfying. And he even stayed sexually aroused. Before I started torturing him, the boy told me that had made his 'peepee' feel really good all the time. He also told me that I was his very first man. And the way he reacted to the torture you would think that true. He reacted all out of proportion to the actual pain he must have been feeling. Like he just wasn't used to being really hurt. But I learned beforehand that all the boys in this particular dungeon were not only permanently installed either in their own cells, or hung on their doors when not being used as a sort of advertisement, most have been there well over several years. They said that after each use by a patron that particular episode was then erased from their memories. He was really suffering despite the fact that most of the instruments there inflicted only class one pain unless you hit with quite a lot of force. But little Dan here (at least in his memory) was being tortured for the very first time. And was crying and screaming quite satisfactorily.

Finally I had to take a break. Torturing a boy was hard work. And I had some sweat dribbling down my own naked body. I looked down at the suffering boy and smiled at his cute boner still sticking straight up.

When he stopped crying he pleaded with me to stop. "Please mister, 3; I mean master, please don't hurt me any more."

I stroked his tightly curled hair and then kissed his luscious full lips. For that he seemed eager. I had been told that most of the boys here had been modified to react quite strongly to sexual cues. I next started sucking on his one and a half inch [4 cm] 'peepee' as he called it. Quite long I thought for his apparent age. He reacted immediately by shaking all over and emitting such delightful squeaking noises. Quite soon he started bucking and pushing his groin upward. He was now emitting noises indication extreme arousal. I was stunned. The eight year old started bucking rhythmically in cadence to his moans. Then a small amount of liquid oozed out of his pricklet and I experienced an almost immediate arousal totally off the charts. It was a powerful aphrodisiac I was so utterly aroused that I stood and rammed home my own rigid 7 inches [18 cm] right to the hilt – for the third time that afternoon. He screamed but almost immediately got this glazed look as I stimulated his tiny butt hole and rectum. I was quite happy to allow the boy his own pleasure again as I got mine. That must have been some powerful drug I'd obtained from his tiny erupting penis as my own orgasm – the fourth that day – seemed to last even longer than the others. Even after I knew I'd been totally drained waves of ecstasy sent waves through my entire body.

Finally I had to stop. I found myself almost collapsed over the boys small body. I finally pulled out and my now slack member slapped against my pendulous ball sac. The boy I noted had actually passed out. What an experience. I spoke a certain word and two older slaves appeared out of seemingly nowhere and took charge of the little dark skinned boy. He looked so utterly innocent there in spite of his pricklet still sticking straight up. The attendants said that the boy would be put into a refresher tank, where he'd be spend a night recuperating and fed. By morning he would be good as new with no memory of the day's activity. He'd be hung on the door of his cell awaiting his next master's wishes. As I watched his feet being released from his shackles I was quite surprised of how little of his body I had left unmarked. I saw that his feet were unmarked – the next portion of his cute body that I had intended to put into agony. But alas I did have limits after all. I was utterly exhausted.

Randy Bobbicks

"It can't be happening. This can NOT be happening. Please let this all be a bad dream." Now that the pain had finally ended I could think again. Well to a point. I was totally devastated and scared beyond belief. I never knew that a person could be this scared. And terrified. The only thing I was thankful for was that the pain had ended. And that when I thought back on it, I'd actually felt worse pain.

But It was all very real. And I couldn't stop crying. They were really going to put me into a box. I didn't want to believe it. I COULDN'T believe it. But that thing in my butt and in my penis was so REAL. And I felt a strange covering all over my body. Damn did that hurt for a while. That horrible smiling man said that it was a neural net – whatever that was. But I had a terrible idea of what it would do. He said it would make me feel things even without direct touch. And I shook again realizing just what things I'd be made to feel. I started sobbing as a wave of deep despair shook through my body. I almost had no fight left in me. I tried to move to maybe rip that net thing off me and that was when I realized I didn't have any finger nails anymore. SHIT! They thought of everything I was thinking. They were all very determined about all this. I kept hoping it was all some way to really scare me. But this was going way too far for just to scare someone. I started shuddering in despair as I wished I was back home. And I could be in my own bed and wake up realizing this was all a horrible nightmare. And then I remembered that totally amazing orgasm. That what it must have been. Never felt anything like it before and for a minute or so I'd actually forgotten what was happening to me. Now why couldn't they do THAT to me of they had to do something? And that reminded my of something one of the men said when I was taken out of that horrible other box. They called the thing sitting over there the box of pain and pleasure. But that one positive thought suddenly collapsed as I though of the box I was transported in and realized I'd be in sort of a similar box forever. FOREVER! It was too much to take in. Despair washed over me all over again. I suddenly tried to struggle against all the straps which stopped me from hardly moving. I couldn't help myself. I knew I couldn't get loose but I tried anyway.

"Please God, help me!" I really didn't believe there was any god who WAS actually listening but despair almost made me believe anyway. Why couldn't I have just gone along with my parents and not made any waves? Just been a good boy and at least pretended to believe what they told me. Suddenly I heard the men coming back and I couldn't stop myself from yelling. It almost felt like the yell was coming from someone else. The man touched my arm and I screamed.

Argant Promescue

The boy was almost hysterical. He screamed just at my touch. I was so aroused I almost came right then and there. This was the greatest arousal I think I'd ever felt. I was so amazingly luck to win the big prize. It almost made me believe there WAS a god who was sending his blessings to me.

Now for the main part of the event. Putting the boy INTO his box! I was a bit disappointed when we released the boy's straps and he just lay there sobbing quietly. We picked him up, brought him over to the box almost in a sitting position. And started sitting him down onto the projecting attachment sticking up almost ten inches [25 cm] from the floor of the box. The back portion and seat portion of the box had been designed to mold to the exact contours of the boy's body. It's special material would even allow his skin to evaporate his sweat. As the plug in the boy's butt made first contact with the metal projection from the floor of the box, the boy became manic. He started struggling again trying to keep his butt out of reach of the projection. But he was no match for five strong men as we inexorably sat him down onto a mechanism which would forever stay inside his rectum. He yelled and screamed and then started cursing. Such language almost made me cringe. And I was startled to realize it was the very first time I'd heard his use such language.

But push down we did and soon he was forced into a sitting position. We then let go. He was now permanently anchored never to be removed. He flailed about and pushed with his hands against the floor of the box. Of course it was all futile but so very entertaining. We let the boy struggle for a full five minutes trying to release his butt from its anchorage. He finally stopped and started crying again. He looked about slowly almost as if he saw the crowd for the first time.

"FUCK YOU BASTARDS. FUCK YOU ALL!"

I suspected he was a might upset, but this was the first time he showed pure anger. I think it was finally sinking in that there was absolutely no hope. I was rubbing my crotch and I suddenly started spasming with one of the most intense orgasms of my life. And I almost was embarrassed until I looked around and saw quite a few men in the crowd with their hard cocks out and being handled. Many had their own boy ministering to them. I was suddenly wishing I had my own boy her with me. Oh well. Back to the boy.

The rest of the boxing went all too fast. We first started attaching the boy's body to the back wall of his box. His struggles had weakened considerably. He alternately cried, screamed in frustration, and then cursed, as we affixed his unyielding bonds. First there were a set of wide bands, anchored in the back wall, which fitted around his slim waist. Two men had to hold his shoulders fast against the back of the box to allow me to seal them together. Then another set went around his upper chest. And then a wide one around his neck. That was the one which bright pure terror back into his eyes. Now any strong movement would cause him to choke.

"Please no! Please." he was back to begging. I was getting strongly aroused again in spite of my recent orgasm.

I leaned in close. "Just think boy. This is for forever!"

This time he just wept. It was a shame he stopped struggling. Several mini-cams took in every little nuance of what we were doing and how the boy was reacting. I couldn't wait to watch the holo when I got back to my suite – and my own slave boy. The boy started to panic when we fitted the sides of his box in place. A loud heart rending wail came out of his now hoarse throat. I couldn't help laughing. The sides automatically fused with the back and bottom pieces when put into place. Now many of the patrons watched the overhead holo-cams. An almost unresisting boy, just sending up those tremoring wails, next had his arms anchored in place. First we positioned his right elbow slightly outward where it was pushed into the molded corner of the box, about midway from the bottom. Two sets of bands went over his upper arm anchoring it to the back wall while the forearm was likewise attached to the side of the box which now extended forward almost parallel to the floor of the box. The same was then down to the left arm. The boy seemed to watch in despair as his arms became immobile. Next were his hands and even his individual fingers. His hand was opened wide and his palm and then every his fingers and thumb were affixed allowing him almost no possible movement. He watched intently seemingly in shock as even his cries stopped. Just quiet tears ran down his face.

Now we all stepped back and looked at our efforts. Except for his head, the entire upper part of the boy's body was attached and nearly immobile. We were told that the special modification to his skin and tissue would allow him to be so bound inside his box without any worry about injury or even irritation. I looked out at the audience and there must have been a couple hundred penises planted into boy's holes or mouths as the audience took full advantage of the arousing event before them.

Now it was time to attach the boy's feet and legs into place. As the boy's right leg was bent so that his foot could be anchored next to the front of the floor and against the right wall, the boy in panic suddenly started screaming and tried to stop his leg from being bent. His efforts were in vein. His foot soon was fitted into the mold put into lace to hold it in one spot and bands around the ankle and over the top pf the foot held it in place. The boy's lower calf was then banded to the side wall. And finally small bands were actually put over each individual toe. The boy screamed! And then suddenly seemed to deflate as his left leg was likewise anchored without resistance.

He looked at us quietly weeping. And except for his head, now almost totally immobile. Now was the part which I was truly waiting for. I was told that the last few boys so boxed went into full total panic as their head was pushed against its molded back cradle and the molded near total mask was placed over their face and then fused together, forever encasing the boy's entire head against the back wall of the box. The only openings were for his nostrils and widely extended mouth. And this boy was no different. A constant high pitched wail erupted as his naked head was forced into place and the inflexible mask put over his face. It automatically fused into permanent position as it was aligned. The boy would never see anything again. His high pitched wails became quite ragged as panic hit full bore, He started flexing all his muscles in a last ditch effort to escape his imprisonment. And the a control was touched on the top of the face mask. The boy gave the loudest and highest pitched scream of the entire boxing event as again micro-fibers from the face mask invaded his eyelids sealing them to his bottom lids and anchoring them permanently shut. It was necessary to stop the leaking of tears inside the mask. The boy kept trying to shake free of his permanent bondage but all he accomplished was a minor movement with the flexure of his muscles. I learned later that his bonds would automatically take up the slack as his muscles deteriorated from their lack of full flexure.

His high pitched moans were finally cut off as a specially molded mouth gag was forced into his toothless mouth, forcing it to near its widest extension. Now only very muffled throat noises escaped from his mouth. Next tubes were forced into his nostrils and down his throat. They were anchored to the face mask and after a control was touched the interior ends of the tubes found their way into the boy's trachea. A small hole was permitted into one of the tubes to allow the boy to push air up his throat so that we could still hear his muffled noises. Later a small throat microphone would be attached and wired to an outside speaker to allow his future audience hear his moans of despair and screams of pain. The mouth plug was a technological marvel. As a control was touched, it did several things. It extended a tube down the boy's throat making sure that his vocal cords would still operate. Then the gag itself annealed itself to his mouth, lips, and even the end of his tongue, only allowing enough movement for the boy to swallow. And finally the outer edge of the gag fused with his face mask. Quite diabolical.

The boy was almost totally boxed. A small tube was next connected to the valve draining his bladder, and another lead was attached to the very end of his now jutting and forever stiff penis. An air tube was connected to the nostrils and a forced feeding apparatus attached to his mouth gag. Other lines and tubes also entered the box for monitoring purposes and environmental controls. Wouldn't want the boy to get too hot. I felt a bit sad that it had not lasted longer. Of course there was still the second part of the event later this evening when the boy would discover just what that neural net affixed to most of his body, and that lead attached to the end of his penis sheath, would do.

We all stepped back to admire the final product. The boy was still obviously struggling making a series of whining noises from his muffled throat. I wondered just what he was now thinking as he must realize that here he would stay for the entirety of his life.

Finally the front piece and top were fused into place, the box lifted onto its final resting pedestal, and all tubes and leads, contained within the pedestal were connected. A series of extreme high pitched noises came now from the operating microphone attached to the boy's throat as the final two sides of the box were put into place. A final wail of total despair.

As most of the crowd was leaving for rest and refreshment – and other lustful activities – a continuous series of strident muffled moans came from within the newly and permanently sealed box. I wondered what the boy was thinking as he realized that he was sealed within for the remainder of his life – a very possible 50 to 70 years. One more boy was totally encased within his metal universe. The boxing of the seventh boy was complete.

Jeremy Black

The com unit must have sensed that I was awake as a muted pinging sound announced an important but non urgent message.

I finally struggled from my bed, took a leisurely shower – the first one all week in which a small boy was not soaping my back along with other important parts – and decided to see if I could another boy, maybe even Judd again, to accompany me back to – for the final evening meal of my wonderful, never to be forgotten, vacation. I also realized that my life had been fundamentally changed. And I was more determined than ever to eventually acquire my own special slave boy. One I could cherish for the rest of my life.

As I dressed I addressed the com. "Inquiry."

A remarkable life like voice answered. "Connected."

"That restaurant overlooking Bottomless Chasm, when would be the earliest reservation for two?

"Outside window seat, two hours sir, otherwise 15 minutes."

"Would a calash be available for transportation?"

"Yes sir, but only with pony-boys. No full animal modification pairs are available."

"Is Judd currently available?"

"Sir, we regret that he is no longer available until tomorrow at 10 am."

Oh well, I figured I'd pick up the best available boy when I reached the lobby. The availability of cute dark skinned 7 to 8 year olds seemed almost limitless. I finished dressing and remembered the message ping.

"Inquiry."

"Connected."

'I was pinged about 30 minutes ago. Could you give me the message?"

"Sir, we are very happy to inform you that your lottery ticket, #5555 was a winner."

I was momentarily puzzled. "Lottery ticket?"

"Yes sir. Your prize is awaiting you in your outer vestibule along with a slave employee with necessary papers to sign."

"Papers?"

"Yes sir. Ownership papers. And you should be happy to know that the Slave Transfer Tax has already been prepaid. Congratulations sir."

"Congratulations?" I didn't realize I'd spoken aloud.

I hurried to the outer vestibule as the com continued its prattle. And there before me knelt the cutest boy I'd ever seen! Absolutely beautiful and stunning. And almost instantly bringing an acute stiffness to another portion of my anatomy. It was almost as if someone had dredged the very image of my perfect boy from my mind and embodied it in front of me.

And then realization struck! I almost sunk to my own knees. In fact that is just what I did. The boy looked a bit frightened and started weeping a few tears.

"Master, may I ask a question?" his voice was barely audible and raspy.

"Why certainly boy."

"Do you not like me, Master? I promise to be a very good slave boy."

Jeremy grabbed up the boy in his arms and started leaking his own tears. "Boy you are absolutely perfect." Then he remembered that he had to BE as good a master as the boy promised to be a slave. "So long as you obey me."

Jeremy held the boy away far enough to look him up and down. The naked boy, less than 3½ feet [1.05 m] tall and maybe 50 pounds [23 kg], perhaps 6 or 7 years in apparent age, smiled through even more tears. Then he took on a very earnest expression. "Oh master I will be perfectly obedient. I've had lots a practice."The boy was a golden brown with darker highlights in all his special places. His features appeared to be of mostly dark Oriental pedigree, more Malay or Thai rather than Chinese or Japanese.

Jeremy was trying to remember some of the facts concerning the three raffled boys but could only remember a very few hazy non-essentials.

"Boy, do you have a name?"

"No master, I've been called Number 6 for the past 12 years."

"Number 6?"

"Yes master. I was a Stable Boy. We only had numbers."

Jeremy stood up and picked the small boy up from the floor. He seemed to weigh almost nothing. Let's sit where it's comfortable. He then realized that another slave, this one older and clothed – obviously an employee of the resort was patiently waiting.

After signing some papers without even reading them he grabbed then, and his boy, and retreated to the sitting room – the one overlooking the lake.

"Tell me all about yourself boy."

In a voice which gradually got at least a bit stronger, the boy recounted his life attending to his ponies. The boy seemed genuinely happy and seemed to have liked his duties.

"But we never spoke. And I was the only one to keep my private boy parts." Number 6 explained just why he was the rare exception.

"Class two slave?"

"Yes master. I had a 12 year Indenture. But now I'm a permanent slave. Class two I think means I decided to stay a slave."

Jeremy was startled. This boy just announced so cavalierly that he had voluntarily chosen to remain a slave – for LIFE!

When Jeremy seemed to hesitate the boy continued with a small fear in his voice: "Master, I really need a master. Please? I promise to be the very best slave boy in the whole world."

Jeremy was taken by the total earnestness in the boy's voice and manner. "Do not be afraid boy. I will also try to be the best master."

The boy smiled and hugged his master tightly. "Master, I am especially good in bed too. And you can do things to me. I don't mind."

The boy thought to himself: "I might cry and even scream some, but I won't mind. Just be a good master and care for me."

They talked some more and Jeremy suddenly remembered he was quite late for his dinner reservation. "Look boy. Are you hungry?"

"Always master." The boy's smile lit his entire face.

As Jeremy carried his boy out of the room he asked the boy if he was used to being in a slave harness and leash.

"I was mostly kept in shackles master, with real heavy chains. And I had a muzzle on all the time except when someone wanted me to suck or lick their sex parts. I'm REAL GOOD at that too."

"Well boy. I think you will look great in a slave harness. We must pick one up before we go home."

Number 6 was just a bit frightened again but more so he was excited. The stable had been his home for almost forever. But the sound of a different home still sounded so good. And with his very own master!

"And I can't keep calling you Number 6. We have to find you a good name."

The Buddingo Brothers (owners of Xanadu Resorts, Inc.)

"Are you certain Ben that you arranged for the correct winners of those three boys? This last is barely a budding entrepreneur." Ted Buddingo momentarily took his attention from the scene sent via 360holo display in front of them.

Ben Buddingo smiled at the image of Jeremy Black almost squeezing the breath out of his newly acquired slave boy from one of the many secret monitors installed throughout their resort. He stayed seated while absentmindedly fondling the little boy parts of his current boy of the month. "I assure you Ted, the best prognosticating programs available believe we are probably watching one of our planet's new crop of multi-millionaires if not billionaires. And he will look upon us and our establishment with great favor."

The small blond six year old squealed as Ben Buddingo stuck one of his fingers into the boy's clean butt hole and wiggled it around. The boy had been recently modified and responded to this invasion with a few giggles and quite a bit of that special feeling and excitement coming from his own peepee and poop hole. His modification even allowed the boy to experience quite a lengthy and intense orgasm when his exit hole was stimulated by his master's own much bigger peepee.

They discussed this for a bit more and then got back to the Boxing of Boy Seven. Ben asked his brother. "How about we witness this evening's torture of the seventh boy in person? Maybe one of us can even get in a few of our own strokes."

"Ben, that's more your thing than mine. I think I'll watch from here."

Ben Buddingo ate a surprisingly modest dinner and then opted for a pony cart to take both himself and his naked blond cutie to the Hall of Boys. They had already started. He could hear the commotion from fifty feet [15 m] away. He was quite satisfied with the turnout and the increase in revenue from this year's event. And he was also quite satisfied in this year's choice of boy. Such stamina and fight! Just what was needed to fire up the audience. And have them spend more money in using his resorts proffered amenities.

As he entered the pavilion he realized that he wasn't that late after all. The boy's torture hadn't started. He could still hear the boy's moans of extreme pleasure over the speaker system. The first part of the evening's entertainment was the remote stimulation of the boy's genitals, rectal sphincters, and greatly enhanced prostate. The stimulation was kept up for almost 20 minutes. Ben Buddingo always wondered if such intense and long lasting stimulation of the young boy's sexual organs ever got to the point of pain rather than pleasure. But the high pitched keening still coming from in surround sound seemed to indicate that the boy was still indeed in full pleasure mode. Another ten minutes and the boy's small whimpers would seem to indicate that he had enough for the time being.

He walked closer to the front stage where there appeared a small boy, an exact replica of boy number seven, standing there totally naked upon a raised dais. But it was a new piece of technology. Not just an exact holographic representation of boy seven, but its surface area specially designed to transmit to the neural net now enveloping the boy's body exactly the same sensation from contact which the specialized holo-image would experience if it were an alive boy. When struck with specially designed 'neural' flogger, whip, paddle, cane, strap, or any similar object, the boy inside his box will feel exactly the same sensation as if he were the one struck. Even needle punctures and electro torture could be simulated. And the greatest thing that the torture could be kept up almost indefinitely with exactly zero injury to the actual boy.

And for the next three hours the muffled screams, yells, shouts, piercing ululations coming from the boy's box indicated that the technology was working perfectly. The seemingly solid holo-image screamed and contorted to the torture in exact synchronization to the real boy's howls.

For the first stage just about every surface of the boy's body was subjected to a very systematic flogging. Then the paddling of his butt ensued. Then his body received stripe after stripe from several varieties of canes. There was an intermission as the next group of torturers were chosen from among the enthusiastic crowd who paid extra for this very privilege of giving boy number seven his first 'public' punishment. During this same time period, a near continuous series of pathos seeking throaty whimpers came from the speaker system.

But it was Mr. Buddingo who restarted the next round of torture by using a classical tawse on the forced open palms of the boy's (holo-imaged) extended hands. The howls from the speakers was quite satisfying. Orgies centered around the generously supplied slave boys were spontaneously occurring throughout the pavilion.

The holo-image was then made to depict the bastinado of the boy's feet. The howls coming from the speaker hit a new high pitch as swipe after swipe of a simulated supple cane was made to the soles of the boy's feet.

By this time many of the participant were more focused on the satisfaction of their own lusts than on the suffering boy number seven. A short period of electro-torture elicited some additional screams but it was quite obvious that the boy needed a 'rest' so to provide a better response to additional torture. The one thing that the technology did not provide for was the continuing effects of the boy's torture. When the image faded so too did the sensation in the boy's neural net. And Mr. Buddingo also decided to have a bit of mercy on the poor boy. In the usual scenarios in the boy's future periods of torture would not last nearly so long and they would be punctuated with a greater numbers of imposed orgasmic delights.

After a short period of rest where the barest of sobs could be heard from the speakers, the boy's genitalia and rectum were again stimulated. The sobs suddenly turned into gasps of pleasure as the boy was kept in induced orgasm for more than 15 minutes.

As Mr. Buddingo left the pavilion, planning his own sexual assault on his boy of the month, he also wondered if the software was finally written to simulate the puncturing of number seven's flesh with slender needles – one of his favorite tortures. One time he was able to puncture a boy's four inch [10 cm] slender penis with a total of 60 well placed needles. He only stopped because the boy had fainted. And as he entered his own quarters he remembered that there was a new 10 year old boy just admitted to the 'Iron Dungeon' who had been so modified that he now sported the actual penis and testicles of a full grown stallion. He made a few commands and an image of the new permanent resident of cell number 102 filled the space in front of him. Between was strapped upright onto an X-shaped cross, and between his legs hung a particularly obscene monstrosity. The huge testicle sac reached to the boy's knees while a partly engorged horse dick swung almost to the floor. The boy appeared to be caught into a daze of great sexual need of release as leads, attached to the base of his oversized genitals, were being continuously stimulated them in twenty minute cycles. He watched as the organ fully engorged and eventually stood out at almost right angles, the flaring flattened head of the boy's penis dripped a steady liquid. Because of the impossibility of obtaining from the small boy's body a sufficient blood supply to fully engorge the horse dick from complete retraction, the penis was never less than 80% engorged. The boy would never be released from some kind of sexual arousal for the rest of his life.

But Mr. Buddingo was trying to estimate just how many slender needles he would need to pierce every square inch surface of that mammoth horse's penis hanging below that 10 year old's groin. He then looked at his current boy of the month and decided that his fate at the end of the month would also include the judicious penetration of his small body with as many needles as possible without inflicting any real damage. He smiled as he thrust his own considerable member into the boy's augmented rectal orifice. (Or as the boy in question called it – his pooper hole).

Randy Bobbicks

I can barely put two thoughts together. And it wasn't all that terrible pain that just wouldn't quit that put me into this state. A lot of it was that unbelievable orgasm later. I was just as totally lost within the feelings spreading out from both my groin and rectum as I was to the previous pain. Perhaps more so. In fact I am totally afraid to actually think. Otherwise I'd never be able to stop crying. I decided to try as much as possible to hold onto that amazing feeling of that last seemingly never ending climax. It was the only thing keeping me from the insanity of total despair. And it had never occurred to me until now that just moving one finger could be an imagined relief of gigantic proportions. But try as I might I could only find the tip of one finger which was capable of any real movement. I suspected someone forgot just one of the many band with which my body had been attached to the walls of my small box. And I think I am starting to hallucinate. I could have sworn that I saw distinct images a while ago. I saw my brother as plain as day. I swear. And at least I am no longer in pain, or even in any real discomfort. Amazing considering how I am tethered into this box. I am starting to suspect that my body was specifically modified to allow for that real chance of true rest. And even my mouth is almost getting used to being forced open all the time. And the food and liquid forced down my throat a while back even tasted good. Its amazing what things the mind tries to take solace from in these circumstances. But my entire soul begins to quake when I start to think in terms of years, or months, or even weeks.

Randy Bobbicks, who will never hear his name spoken again, or really ever 'see' his brother, as he was now confined to perpetual darkness and only the indistinct hum of the system keeping him alive, would never know that he would never have to actually experience, at least in memory, the unfurling of weeks, or months, or years. After sensor readings of the first two 'boxed boys' had determined that they had eventually retreated mentally into a continuous waking dream state, steps were taken to insure that the remaining boys would have no such easy withdrawal from their reality. What was accomplished to other slave boys in other circumstances by drugs to erase recent memories, was now done by the simpler expedient of destroying the boxed boys' minds ability to form any additional long term memory.

Flinx (formerly Number 6)

I have a real name! My master named me after a character he read in one of his old old old books. (And I still can't figure out why people even made books when there are so many easier ways to record stuff).

And my new master is the best in all the world! Just the other day he actually got all worried that he had hurt me too bad when he had spread me eagled on his bed and kept touching me with that new pain thing. I finally decided that NOT telling him that it hardly even hurt was NOT being an unfaithful slave boy. I promised myself if he actually asked me point blank I'd tell him the truth. But as far as I am concerned what my master does not know won't hurt me.

And my master takes me EVERYWHERE. I never imagined there could actually be so many different places. Or so many flavors of food. Or so many nice people in the universe. And it took me forever to understand that a REAL pony couldn't understand me when I talked to it! Boy ponies are so much better. (And they also smell better)! And I feel so great when he puts me in one of my slave harnesses and leads me around on my leash. I feel so much his special boy!

And WOW did it really feel so weird when he made me put on clothes when we went to see his parents. No wonder people wear clothes all the time – it makes you feel so sexy all the time.

And I still don't believe that accidentally jamming that pain thing on its lowest setting is being a bad slave boy. Besides, my master told me he was more into neat bondage stuff, and that gets me all sexcited. (I made up that word). It sends such great 'sex waves' all through me. And that tube he puts into my little peepee and the other ring thing holding it there feels so sexy even if I can't get all 'gasmy by just rubbing my peepee anymore. But he puts his own big peepee into my butt hole so often that I seem to be 'gasming all the time anyway.

The End