Platypus

Nathan's Tale

Slowly regaining consciousness, Nathan opened his eyes. What immediately struck him was the sign, a 24" by 36" [60 x 90 cm] bold placard indicating that he was indeed up for sale as his parents and evil grandmother had threatened. Worse, the words on the placard were most disturbing.

He could read it clearly, and it terrified him.

There it was in large print for the entire freaking world, and especially for potential bidders, to see.

He had turned 14 just a month previously. Miserable, a most anxious expression was etched poignantly upon his features.

In back of him in the large room were other boys to be sold into indentured service, as it was called. He heard them chattering, talking about school and their families and whatever nervous conversation boys might muster when faced with such a dire predicament.

These others were out of Nathan's eyeshot, but a casual observer might have noticed that the closest of his newfound peers were not naked, as he was, but wore loincloths or thongs to conceal their boy parts and also spiked leather restraint collars around their necks. The three nearest boys were imprisoned in sturdy metal cages, like dogs or cats at an animal shelter. Four small white plastic wheels on each cage made it easier to transport the boys, perhaps load them onto an airplane or into a purchaser's vehicle – cage and all. The collars were uncomfortable but less painful if a caged boy tilted his head slightly forward. The showroom was large. Its rear walls were made of cement and colored a grim purplish-gray. The somewhat more attractive brick walls to Nathan's right that he could barely make out with his peripheral vision reminded Nathan of the walls lining the corridors of his middle school. But that sudden realization struck the boy like an emotional pang: He was a long way from such familiar comforts, and even if he clicked his bare heels together three times he wouldn't suddenly get to be someplace else.

In any case, Nathan couldn't click his heels together. His shins were encased in leg irons. These restraints kept his lower limbs some two feet [60 cm] apart while preventing much movement. In fact, because he couldn't move them, his bare soles rested uncomfortably on metal coils projecting a few inches above the showroom's floor, a surface that itself seemed to be made of hard plastic or linoleum, only he couldn't tell by touching his feet to it. He had a premonition of similar coils inside his family's stove at home in the kitchen. That nasty image buzzed into and out of his consciousness like an imaginary biting fly. For the moment, his soles felt a dull ache while they rested on the coils. They were certainly uncomfortable.

Other features of his humiliating restraints bothered him too. A metal pipe with a vertically-placed faucet that was anchored to the floor extended straight up into his anus, penetrating about a half inch [13 mm].

Stretching his arms well above his head almost to the limits of his shoulder joints were uncomfortable metal shackles attached to each wrist, these bolted to a four-foot-long [1.20 m] restraining bar. This contraption was in turn connected to a chain with another eyebolt above that, far above the boy's head. Nathan was completely spread-eagled and entirely vulnerable.

He hated his grandmother, the fat bitch. It was she who had suggested to his parents that he go to boot camp this summer, for the entire summer, or else be signed off to do indentured servitude, which would surely "make a proper little man out of him" she'd said. The latter was the option she'd actually preferred. Indentured servitude was more affordable for his parents too, but its duration more uncertain. He could be in such servitude until Halloween or even Christmas, depending on how his behavior was deemed to be improving.

So they'd done it. They'd put him here in this horrible place. Worse, he'd be bid on by 'training teams' who'd purchase the exclusive rights to his body and mind in an effort to make him the Nathan that everybody wanted him to be. A nicer Nathan, a well-behaved Nathan, a docile Nathan, a Nathan that the boy himself had no intentions of being. "It's like dog obedience school," he mused out loud.

"Shut up, you're scaring me," one of the boys behind him suddenly said.

"Ask me if I care," Nathan answered. His voice was still not husky and man-like, as Nathan was just on the cusp of puberty.

But nothing happened for at least another hour. When the bright lights came on Nathan had dozed off into a light sleep. He woke up with a start, hearing adult voices, men and women, lots of voices, and with the lights on, he saw the owners of the boisterous voices entering the showroom, dozens of potential buyers, all eager to get their hands on his naked body, and with his restraints securely in place, there wasn't a freaking thing he could do about it.

A fat woman approached him first.

"Oooh," she said, "What a handsome boy." She was about fifty and dumpy-looking, with big bulging toad-like eyes and large lips. Her fat, stubby fingers immediately began touching him, appraising him as if he were a piece of livestock. She pinched his left nipple, and then his right. He glared back at her. Neither pinch was hard enough to hurt. Still he kept quiet, until she reached for his cock. She began pulling on the organ, until it projected straight out from his pelvic region. "Hey bitch! What the fuck are you doing?" She then pinched his sensitive glans hard with her index finger and thumb, and with the other hand, reached beneath his penis and squeezed Nathan's balls even harder. "Yeowwh! You fucking whore! Stop it!"

"You're fresh, boy," she responded, slapping him hard across the face.

The slap stung, and a few tears started to flow.

"You can't do that to me, bitch," he said, glaring back at her.

"I can," she said, "I've paid admission, and I can examine you to my heart's content."

A crowd of nodding heads agreed. Unfortunately, Nathan had caused a commotion, attracting the attention of the showroom manager and his associates.

Mr. David Arroos, the showroom manager, now looked on, considering the best way to make this defiant boy more docile in a hurry. This wiry, dark-skinned southwest Asian was a pro, experienced in this business. Nathan noticed the man's cold, merciless eyes, and shuddered. The skin on the man's arms showed numerous tattoos, mostly savage beasts and dragons.

The other boys in their cages were starting to shout and act out too, causing more commotion. This was getting out of hand, beginning to disrupt the flow of the showroom's auction. Mr. Arroos couldn't have that. He signaled one of his assistants to turn a lever.

Nathan didn't notice anything for a few seconds. He found himself smiling, an angry, defiant smile. Perhaps he could bluster his way through this and regain a bit of dignity. But then he felt the coils touching his bare soles getting warmer, heating up. He tried shifting his right foot, then his left, but the shackles would allow almost no movement and began chafing his ankles as he struggled. About twenty seconds had elapsed when the coils began turning orange, glowing, and became very hot. Nathan screamed as his soles started burning wherever the coils made contact with his flesh. He struggled harder, and chafed his ankles worse, trying unsuccessfully to free his feet. He thought in his sheer fright that he could smell an acrid odor, like pork chops cooking on the grill at home in his backyard. Seconds later, Nathan mercifully blacked out.

Nathan was unconscious when he was purchased as an indentured. The buyers were two gay men whom the boy would learn to know quite well over the coming months. Anthony and John were an experienced training team considered to have an excellent way with defiant adolescents requiring a harsh daily punishment regime. The twice daily punishments, rather than occasional chastisement, was a burdensome requirement for many rogue trainers and training teams, and so Nathan's purchase price, despite his attractive features and fine-toned body, had only been $4,300. Another rogue trainer, a blonde pederast, had offered Mr. Arroos and his assistants the full $5,000 but he wasn't willing to sign the required contract or come to proper terms. Mr. Arroos had been concerned that the blonde man, a Norwegian, might treat the boy far too kindly, and so return him to his family at the end of his indenture still disturbingly defiant.

Anthony and John had passed the 'strict' test with more assertiveness. They'd also been less evasive. "Of course we'll punish him twice a day, and we won't coddle him in the slightest," John had agreed, in response to a direct question from the conscientious Mr. Arroos.

"We also have guests over on Saturday evenings, and they can punish our boys in additionally creative ways – to round out the regime each week," Anthony added with a big grin, "Don't worry Mr. Arroos, we'll put Nathan through his paces."

After the paperwork was signed, the still naked and unconscious Nathan was unshackled and carried on Anthony's shoulders into a waiting caramel-colored SUV. He was unceremoniously dumped to sprawl on his side onto a seat. John picked up the boy's feet and laid the boy down full-length in a prone position. Both men observed that the fourteen-year-old grunted in pain but didn't wake. "His feet are red and tender but not badly burned," John whispered. "There aren't even blisters."

"Still, he'll be limping when he wakes up," Anthony said.

"At least he won't be an immediate runaway like that other kid, Robby," added John. The men kept whispering even after they started on the road, and sped down the Interstate toward their shared home.

The home was within a gated community. Nathan was starting to wake up, and still felt groggy. He figured that he must have been tired. The gate opened, lit by a pair of lanterns near the top of the gate, on either side. It was night.

John and Anthony were staring straight ahead in the SUV's front seat, occasionally smiling at each other, conversing about something that didn't seem relevant to Nathan.

A minute later, they pulled up into a carport, and the SUV stopped. John, who'd been driving, shut the engine off. Anthony looked back into the second tier of seats where the naked Nathan was now sitting up, more or less awake. "Okay, we're home," he said to Nathan in a sort of breezy manner.

Nathan didn't answer. The boy looked out the window into the well-lit grounds of what was obviously a gigantic condo.

Both men got out. "C'mon, do I have to carry you boy?" asked Anthony.

Nathan wasn't sure what to do. This would be the beginning of his new life in the Indentured Servitude Program, and the boy didn't really want any part of it. But there was no where to escape, at least not yet, because he had no idea where he was. So he softened his expression, and tried to be nice. "Okay," he said, "I'm okay."

Nathan slid open the door of the SUV and then tried to stand while getting out. He managed to ignore the fact that he was bare-assed naked. "Owwh! Shit!" Nathan discovered that he wasn't okay. It all came rushing back. The showroom, with those buyers swarming in, the big sign, those coils, they'd been heated, and his feet were sore as Hell. "Oh shit!" he exclaimed again, attempting to walk, now clear of the SUV. Complicating all this he had to take a wicked piss.

"Sure you don't need help?" John asked pleasantly.

"No, I can make it," Nathan insisted. He avoided the concrete walkway, and the well-manicured grass felt softer on his soles, but he was noticeably limping.

Anthony pressed the button on the electronic key, and the front door opened. John entered behind Anthony with Nathan sandwiched in between. The lights came on.

Nathan found himself in a spacious living room with an entertainment center, three plush chairs, a fold-out sofa, a bookcase, and a couple of end-tables. Photos of presumably the two men's families adorned available surfaces. The place looked almost ordinary. Twin hallways led out from the living room parallel to each other. The dominant color appeared to be purple, along with brown.

"You must be exhausted, Nathan," Anthony said. The boy regarded his co-custodian as if for the first time. Anthony was averaged sized and height, maybe forty-five, with pattern baldness definitely setting in. His hair was red, streaked with gray. His eyes were a little too close together, and he walked pigeon-toed, with toes pointing inwards. His nose was bulbous and red, as if he'd once been a heavy drinker, like Nathan's Uncle Roger. His parrot's mouth was hard-edged and he was missing a front tooth, off to the left side.

"Yeah, I guess I am," Nathan said.

Nathan regarded John too. This guy was younger, maybe thirty, and very athletic. He was dark-haired and swarthy, probably Italian or Spanish, Nathan thought. The second man had nice regular features, and might even be considered handsome, except that Nathan wasn't into guys. John's eyes were blue, and sensitive-looking.

"Here, let me take you to your room," John said.

The room was down the first hallway from the living room, third on the right. It seemed like a nice room for an adolescent. Nathan noticed a well-made bed with covers, pillow, and a light blanket, and there was even a bedside lamp for reading. Nathan didn't like to read much. The room did contain a TV and a DVD player, and a bookcase with four shelves loaded with books. Amid the NBA basketball motif wallpaper, two large posters adorned the wall by his bed. The posters were weird. They showed Ultimate Fighting matches, but instead of adult men like Nathan watched occasionally on TV, the contestants were nude boys of about twelve or thirteen.

"This will be all yours while you're here with us," John said, "make yourself at home, but I'd suggest you get some rest. Wake up is at 6:15. Your orientation begins after you've showered and had breakfast, at 7:30 a.m. sharp. You won't start your punishment regime tomorrow, not until the next day, but you will otherwise have a regular day – with chores and humility class and exercise time. The other boys here now are Josh and Billy. One of them will show you the ropes. If you slip up tomorrow, you will have extra punishments added-on for the day after.

"Where are Josh and Billy?"

"They're asleep, as I'd suggest you should be very soon. Good night."

John walked out briskly, like the U.S. Marine he'd once been.

"Good night," Nathan said, rather politely.

John left the door open a crack. Nathan quietly closed it for some privacy. He was still naked and a little bashful about his body. He looked for a latch or a lock but there wasn't any. "Great," he said to himself sarcastically.

He switched on the TV. It was some kind of weird cable network. Every channel featured contests, like Fear Factor, or Survivor, reality shows, featuring boys of his age. He found the remote atop the TV, and started clicking away. His attention was promptly arrested by a show called Pain Factor. Four boys of about his age were naked and standing barefoot on some type of metal disks. He immediately thought of his own soles and the heated coils. These boys also looked to be in obvious pain. Adults were directing them. "Your soles must be in full contact with the heated metal surface at all times," a pretty but bitchy woman said. "We're about to turn up the temperature again." Two of the boy contestants started bawling then, but their feet remained steady. "How can they stand it? Nathan remarked to himself. "I could never do that. I hate pain." He felt very tired. Before hopping into bed, he shut off the TV. His feet still hurt from his own minor ordeal, making Nathan's dreams more vivid. Nathan imagined he was a contestant on that show, so he slept fitfully. The bed and bed sheets were comfortable as they caressed his bare body, but when he heard the early morning knock for "wake up," he still felt tired and in no mood to get up.

The knock was loud, four times, like a staccato tapping. "Time to get up," the boy's voice said. It was Billy, a tall lanky 13-year-old, with brown hair like Nathan's. Before the newcomer could protest, Billy opened Nathan's door wide as you please.

"Hey," Nathan said rather angrily, "Just barge right in, won't you?"

"Sorry," Billy said, but John and Anthony told me to make sure you got up."

Nathan sat bolt upright. In bed, he'd pulled his covers up almost to his neck for modesty. He noticed that Billy was wearing clothes, a tee-shirt that said 'Pain Athlete' on his chest and a pair of shorts with matching logo. He also wore cheap ratty black basketball sneakers and white socks. Billy held out something else – an outfit for Nathan that was even dorkier than what Billy wore. It was a white tee-shirt and blue gym shorts, and also a second pair of cheap ratty sneakers with white crew socks.

"These are your clothes," Billy said, handing them over.

Nathan snatched them up, rather curtly. "Okay, now you can leave. I'm freaking up!"

"You'd better lose that attitude," Billy said, "It's not so bad here except for the punishments. If you try hard, you can even get used to some of them. I have."

"Ask me if I care, you weird little fuck."

"Okay, me and Josh get the bathroom first this morning. You have to be all cleaned up and dressed, and ready for morning inspection in about a half hour, before breakfast."

He left Nathan's room in a hurry.

Nathan dressed quickly, wearing the white tee-shirt and blue gym shorts, plus the footwear, sneakers and crew socks. But he had to pee again bad and the bathroom, which Nathan soon discovered was just down the hall, was occupied. Once in there, he would also shower and take the opportunity to clean up, brush his teeth if a toothbrush and toothpaste were available, and push the second of the other boys out of the way if need be. He waited, eyeing the bathroom's closed door like a predator. Soon he heard the shower running, and after awhile, the toilet flushed. As the door opened the other boy, Josh, made a beeline for the bathroom at the same instant as Nathan did. The result was a collision of bodies, and a fight. It got loud. A lot of pushing and shoving and jostling transpired, and just as Nathan got halfway inside the bathroom's doorway; the adults could be heard approaching and also shouting. Nathan had the presence of mind to slink back to his own room and softly shut the door. "Shit!" he muttered, not quite under his breath. But Josh was in the bathroom now, and he took his sweet time with his morning ablutions, Nathan observed. Josh was a larger blonde-haired boy, big for thirteen, with wide shoulders and solid abs, blue-eyed, and with sturdy legs and feet. With his hair still wet and his body mostly dried, the 'drip' came out of the bathroom, finally, and the clock was certainly ticking.

"Sweet Jesus!" Nathan was heard to exclaim by the other boys and probably by Anthony and John. "I got four minutes to shit and pee and shower and get ready!" He also found the hot water gone, "Shit! Shit! Shit!" The water was ice-cold. Somehow he took care of his other bodily functions and managed to get 'somewhat' dry. Another complication was that Nathan found only two toothbrushes belonging to Josh and Billy, as they were labeled with white tape marked with a 'B' and a 'J' and quite used. He didn't think to look in the compartment beneath the bathroom mirror where towels and a toothpaste and a toothbrush marked 'N' were prepared and waiting. John and Anthony yelled out "Boys – Time for Inspection!" Nathan knew he was in trouble. He hadn't even had time to brush his teeth.

In the library, the boys waited to be inspected for cleanliness, and to be examined for being properly dried and dressed. Anthony was doing the inspecting. This balding, pigeon-toed, and middle-aged father figure seemed to relish his task. John stood by next to the large old-fashioned armchair where his partner was ass-plunked in, looking like a sentinel. The boys had formed a line inside the small library room that smelled of books and dust. Hundreds of books surrounded the five people gathered for their symbiotic purposes. Josh was first with Billy right behind him. Both passed this morning inspections without punishment demerits. "Excellent," praised Anthony. His partner echoed in agreement. Nathan's relieved peers walked toward the kitchen where they'd be eating their breakfasts – with full permission. "Thank you sirs!" both of his peers disgustingly bleated, like the sheepish and submissive boys that they'd undoubtedly become. Goody boys, mused Nathan, docile like pets. A lot like those caged boys back in the showroom. Thankfully, that apparition was starting to fade from Nathan's brain, even though it'd been quite recent. "Next," announced Anthony.

"Step forward, Nathan," reiterated John. The ex-Marine gave the 14-year-old a piercing stare. For reasons that he realized all too well, Nathan hesitated, but took a fateful step.

Anthony's accusatory look was nearly instantaneous.

"What?" Nathan said.

Anthony calmly tousled the newbie's straight brown head hair and lifted the back of his tee-shirt to let his index finger test the skin of Nathan's lower back, finding the first infraction. "Why, you're not even dry!" he exclaimed. His shirt wasn't tucked in either. Nathan had morning breath that stank. "Didn't bother to brush your teeth?"

"I didn't have a toothbrush! I wasn't going to use their filthy things," he whined.

"That's no excuse, young man," Anthony explained. He promptly got up from the armchair and said "Follow me!" in a stern tone. Nathan knew better than to argue. In the bathroom, Andrew showed him where his supplies had been prepared and kept for him. Among the items was a nice plastic toothbrush marked with the letter 'N' and even a small tube of name brand toothpaste.

"Oh," Nathan managed. He wisely didn't say another word. "Three infractions, three extra punishments tomorrow when you begin your regime," Anthony said quietly, "Now brush your teeth and head right to breakfast when you're done."

"Okay," Nathan heard himself say. I'm starting to sound like one of these puppy-dog kids," he thought sourly as Anthony headed toward the kitchen where his own breakfast also waited.

Nathan walked into the kitchen nonchalantly, as he realized that he was now more presentable, and no longer reeked of 'morning breath.' Josh and Billy were finishing their hotcakes, bacon, and omelettes, wolfing everything down, probably in anticipation for whatever activity loomed. Nathan could see that the breakfast table was nicely set, even with expensive silverware, and everything seemed there for the taking. Nathan sat down to eat.

"Eight minutes, then you need to be in our exercise room to do the treadmill. Josh will put you through your paces this morning," John explained. He was very much the Marine, and not a person to mess with physically, Nathan surmised.

The newbie said "okay" again, feeling ashamed and chastened as he said it.

"Brush your teeth again after you eat," Anthony chimed in, his voice booming from somewhere behind where Nathan was seated. The newcomer didn't dare turn his head.

The food was good, it was nutritious, and Nathan was hungry. He finished what he needed to with about five seconds to spare. By this time, Billy was already in the exercise room, and Josh accompanied by Nathan were about to join him.

The exercise room was about 10' x 20' [3 x 6 m] and contained a single Lifespan treadmill, small weights, and an assortment of nipple clamps. "Anthony and John like to keep things simple," Josh explained to Nathan. The newcomer gazed about attentively. Billy got up on the treadmill after setting the red printed digital monitor to 3.5 miles per hour [5.5 km/h], with a 6% incline. "We have to do three miles [5 km] like this," explained Billy as he began his cardio workout. It didn't seem especially difficult until Nathan noticed something: Billy wasn't wearing shoes or socks!

How come you're barefoot?" asked Nathan.

"That's the way they make us do it," Billy replied, "It does make it more of a challenge."

"I'd say," added Josh. "But it can toughen up your feet. Anyway, it doesn't hurt that much if your feet haven't been punished for a few days."

"Then it hurts like heck," Billy explained.

"I'm not doing it barefoot!" Nathan said a bit too loudly.

"You'd better, or else it's a major infraction," Josh informed him.

"What's a major infraction?" Nathan asked innocently.

"You don't want to know," Billy said, shaking his head.

Soon enough it was Nathan's turn to try the treadmill. He knew that he wasn't being excused, although he had been exempted from both his morning and evening punishment sessions since this was his first day. He hesitated before taking off his footwear, but then as he did it, he noticed what else his newfound peers were suddenly doing to each other. Each boy was wincing in pain, as the other attached steel-jawed nipple clamps to their naked chests, one for each nipple. Attached to the clamps were chains from which several small weights cruelly dangled.

"Owwh, this really hurts," moaned Josh as Billy was setting him up.

"We've each been assigned three two-pound [0.9 kg] weights for each nip," Billy proclaimed.

"You don't start this until tomorrow," Josh added.

Nathan shot them both one of his looks. "I'm not going to do that. It's torture!"

"This is nothing compared to what you can expect," said Billy, "even during the average punishment session you'll be getting a lot worse."

"It actually isn't so bad," added Josh while grimacing, "It toughens up your nips."

"The more pain you can take, the better off you are in this place," Billy added with an introspective grimace of his own, "Both Anthony and John really get off on putting us through our paces. It's one of their favorite expressions, 'Putting the boys through their paces.' I'm getting tired of hearing it."

"I think I'm going to run away from here," Nathan said. He wasn't sure if he meant it. He hadn't thought it through.

Billy and Josh looked at him in astonishment.

"I can't believe you said that, dude," Billy replied after a long pause.

Nathan looked down at his bared feet and decided to let the matter drop, no harm done, right? Wrong. Little did he know that there'd be a mandatory consequence for expressing that particular intent, and both of his peers had heard him say it, distinctly and loudly, not under his breath.

Nathan gathered up his courage to hop up onto the treadmill. When he did, he noticed how sore his soles still were. He hadn't even pressed the 'on' switch. 'Oh Christ, he thought. This is really going to suck.'

He procrastinated for a full minute just standing there on the motionless treadmill.

"C'mon, we have to be out of here and in on our rooms in fifty minutes!" Billy was almost shouting. There was real fear and a little anger in his voice. He and Josh still had the clamps attached to their nipples, with the weights now added. Both boys were expressing a near constant scowl from their own pain. The weight was also making their nipples protrude at least two inches [5 cm], with the elasticized skin of their pectoral muscles painfully stretched.

"Stop dilly-dallying!" screamed Josh.

Nathan could have mentioned the showroom and the grill beneath his soles, but that would have been an excuse. He had to show some guts. Finally, he turned the machine on. By the end of his three-miles [5 km], it was definitely an ordeal.

Josh and Billy were back in their rooms relaxing when Nathan, his shoes and socks restored, was meeting with John and Anthony in the spacious living room for 'orientation.'

Nathan sat on the living room's sofa while flanked by the two adults – John on his left and Anthony to his right. "You need to know the rules of the house," Anthony explained.

"Let you know what to expect," John added.

This should be good, mused the newly indentured boy.

Anthony's tone was earnest. "Your indenture will last as long as it needs to," the red-headed balding middle-aged man reiterated, "not a day longer."

Nathan was trying to be attentive, but he could tell that John, the younger guy with the crewcut, was finding him as irksome as most adults did. Nathan seemed to have that effect on people, especially adults, men or women. He irritated them even when he wasn't trying to.

When John took his turn at lecturing the young teen, Nathan detected a hint of menace in his voice. "If you follow the rules of the house, and if you accomplish what you're supposed to everyday, then you'll just receive your regular punishment sessions in the mornings and in the evenings, twice a day. Oh, you'll have to endure our special event punishments for the entertainment of invited guests on Saturday evenings – when it's your turn. These public sessions will normally take the place of your regular Saturday evening sessions."

Cripes! I'll need a freaking calendar just to keep track! Nathan mused. "Yes," he said, but dared to ask, "Why so many punishments?"

Anthony, the balding middle-aged redheaded guy was undeterred. "Because you are a defiant boy, and that's why your family sent you to stay with us. The punishments help you to get better. The quicker you get better, the quicker you get sent back to your nice pleasant home – to resume your former life."

The details came next. His scheduled punishments would take place in two 'arenas,' large rooms in the house labeled 'medieval' or 'contemporary.' They'd last from one to three hours, perhaps longer during the Saturday evening public entertainments. He could be punished on any part of his body from his neck down to his soles. He would never know in advance what part of his body would be used to produce 'pain memories.' His punishments would vary in intensity and could enter the category generally defined as torture, with the only caveat being that he would never suffer permanent injury at the hands of Anthony or John, who were quite used to training 'defiant' boys like him. He would always report naked to the punishment arenas, and never more than a minute late. Tardiness of more than one minute would mean additional severity and duration of that particular session's punishments.

There were also a laundry list of house rules that he'd have to obey, or else suffer added punishments, or, if the offense he'd committed was serious enough, he might have to suffer some 'innovative' punishment regime, as had already been the misfortune of other boys under Anthony and John's care during the past several years. Serious offenses including cursing to his guardians, running away, fighting with or bullying the other boys, being excessively 'unhygienic,' refusing to do his daily physical training or refusing to submit properly and completely during his daily humility exercises, refusing to eat or not getting sufficient sleep, watching TV without permission, not watching a specific cable channel program or DVD when told to, disobeying relayed orders given to him by his 13-year-old housemates Josh and Billy, and several more 'no nos' he didn't quite remember. Nathan, being naturally defiant, wasn't the greatest listener.

"Can I be excused?"

"Yes, you can spend some free time in your room until it's time for your first humility session. You must report here to the parlor for that, and you'll need to be nude. It will begin in about an hour and a half," Anthony explained. John was more precise in his language, and came right to the point. "You must learn to submit, boy. You must learn to obey orders."

Nathan's free time in his room went too quickly. He tried a little reading, didn't dare to watch TV because he wasn't sure if they'd given him permission, and lay on his back in his new dorky 'uniform' – even to the extent of lying down with his shoes on the bedspread, another offense. He began dozing off, and was fully napping when Billy knocked on his door with several hard knuckle raps.

Nathan woke with a start as Billy burst through the door.

"Hey!" Nathan managed, still half asleep.

Josh followed right behind. He's the one who actually spoke. "It's time for your first humility," the second 13-year-old said.

Nathan began getting up and started heading out the door, fully dressed in his T-shirt and gym shorts and footwear.

"You can't go dressed," Billy exclaimed.

"What can I wear?" Nathan asked, either not remembering or choosing not to remember.

Both 13-year-olds started giggling. "Just your birthday suit," managed Josh.

"Not even socks and underwear?"

Billy suddenly became deadly serious. "Not even, dude."

Nathan felt silly and bashful walking out into the parlor. All four of them, John and Anthony and his peers, sat on the couch staring at him while fully dressed. Nathan covered his cock and balls with his hands.

"Place your hands behind your head, Nathan." Anthony barked.

So it began. First, Nathan was asked to come closer, so "We can get a good look at you." The men and also Josh and Billy inspected him everywhere. "See where he has any hairs, and get an idea of how many," John said brusquely to the other boys.

"Stand still while you're inspected," Anthony chirped.

He had to bend over and spread his ass cheeks. Inside the cleft, he felt fingers palpating his anus, searching for the finest new down. "He's just starting to get little hairs," Billy remarked brightly. Nathan hated him then.

When Nathan lifted his arms, his pits were scrutinized by four sets of eyes. "He doesn't have even as many pit hairs as I do," Josh remarked.

Nathan had to stand there silently as John and Anthony both took turns inspecting his cock and squeezed his balls. Once he let out a little squeak when John squeezed his left nut in its sack a little too hard. "He has a few pubic hairs, but he should have more for his age," John added.

He sat down on the parlor floor while everyone inspected his feet. "He has these two hairs on each of his big toes," Billy said.

Josh started pulling incipient hairs on Nathan's calves and legs. It didn't hurt a lot but it was plenty annoying. Nathan wasn't amused. He glared at Josh but kept his tongue.

After the inspection of his naked body by the two adults and two thirteen-year-olds, it was time for something more humiliating.

"Okay, stand at attention, Nathan. Place your hands by your side." Anthony barked.

Nathan was hoping that this first humility session was now over. It wasn't.

The next sentence from John shocked him.

"Okay, I want you to masturbate for us. Let's see how much you can cum."

Nathan was so embarrassed. He knew that he didn't want to do THAT in front of everybody.

He started to cry and a tear coursed down his cheek. "No, I won't do that," he said.

"Yes you will," John raised his voice just slightly, "Billy, go fetch my strap."

A minute later the strap struck the tender skin of his belly with a loud whap.

"Owwh!" Nathan screamed.

"How many more do you want boy? Will you masturbate now?" John was getting angry.

Nathan stifled a sob and refused once more. The strap flashed through the air and struck again, this time along the 14-year-old's ribs on his right side. "Owwh!" Nathan screamed again. The strap flashed several times more in quick succession, striking Nathan's exposed torso wherever it landed.

Red welts appeared in several places on his back and front.

Nathan was almost hysterical by now and when he tried to run back to his room, was soon tackled and smacked several more times with the strap on his bare butt.

"Okay, I'll do it," the chastened young teen shrieked.

So he began jerking off, and the adults and Billy and Josh found it quite entertaining. After about a minute, Nathan's penis began to swell. Pre-cum appeared on his glans. Anthony stopped him for a few seconds to inspect Nathan's moistened piss-slit. "Okay, you may continue," he said. Everyone in the room was enjoying this show except for the humiliated Nathan.

Nathan began the familiar motions that would produce the good feeling. After another moment, he ejaculated, and much of it landed on the parlor rug. It was a healthy load of jism.

Nathan didn't think that Anthony and John could humiliate him further, but he was wrong.

"Now, clean up your mess," Anthony said softly.

"But I don't have any paper towels," Nathan explained.

"Get down on your hands and knees, and use your tongue!" Anthony yelled.

During the next half hour, Nathan was forced to cum twice more, and to clean it up by licking it up each time. Billy and Josh found this hilarious.

When it was over, and Nathan was allowed back in to his room, his penis was chafed and a little sore, but his feelings of anger and shame were overwhelming.

I have to do a humility session every day that I'm here! This really sucks! Nathan mused. He was still a defiant boy, however, and not fully broken. It would take punishment sessions, several of those, to accomplish that.

The first one came the next morning. He had to report to the Medieval Room where John and Anthony were waiting, and he had to report nude. He didn't like pain. He was sure that this first ordeal would really suck, and it would last for ninety minutes! The room was warm and pleasant temperature-wise. Decorated like a medieval dungeon, down to the stone walls and the Inquisition-reminiscent accoutrements, the place gave the once-defiant 14-year-old the creeps. I hate it, Nathan mused, and I hate everything about this indentured service program!

"Oh, at least you're punctual," Anthony said, looking a little like a one of those balding priestly friars from the Middle Ages, except he wasn't wearing priestly vestments or a one-piece penitent's garb made of coarse animal hair.

"Lie down on the rack," John commanded in a stern tone. He seemed invariably to have a stern tone where Nathan was concerned.

Nathan approached the rack gingerly on soles that were still sore. He attempted to lie down on his stomach, but Anthony stopped him. "No, we want you on your back," he said with a cruel grin.

Nathan was then affixed to the rack, a hard wooden replica of the real thing, by leather thongs attached first to his ten fingers as his arms were extended over his head, and then by more leather thongs attached individually to his ten toes. His legs and arms were also spread uncomfortably, so that he was lying on this torture device spread-eagled.

Once secured, the thongs began tightening around his digits with the first turn of an archaic wheel that controlled the device. John was doing the turning. "You'll be feeling a little more pressure on each finger or toe as you're properly extended," he explained.

By six turns, Nathan was in agony. His fingers and toes were separated enough from their joints by then, extending the entire length of the 14-year-old's naked body so that they felt like they'd been dislocated permanently.

But John wasn't done. "Only a few more turns," he said, as the terrified once defiant boy heard the ominous creaking of the archaic device and the pain slowly increase. At the conclusion of nine turns, Nathan's nude form was 'properly' extended so that he could be punished. The stretching on the rack apparently didn't count as punishment; it was only preparation for something worse – a whipping on his bare chest and stomach with a small flogging whip made of hard brown leather.

Anthony smiled evilly in Nathan's biased opinion as he struck the boy's sensitive flesh on his front with the nasty little whip. It had six strands at the end with knots on the end of each strand. "You'll be getting this for a full hour today," he explained cheerfully, striking the 14-year-old's taut muscles of his chest and stomach. The middle-aged man was clearly an experienced flogger, proceeding methodically, in precise patterns starting at Nathan's chest just above his nipples, and proceeding to his lower belly below the boy's navel, with each stroke struck hard enough to cause severe additional pain and leaving small red welts on the formerly virgin skin. Nathan didn't quite scream during this torture, trying to tough it out, but he emitted numerous little yelps and grunts especially when sensitive places were struck a second, third, or even tenth time. It hurt more, Nathan mused, because he was stretched out like he was. He learned not to squirm and writhe too much as this extra movement applied more pressure to his already stressed fingers and toes. Finally it was over. Nathan to his credit didn't faint and was rather stoic as he underwent his first of many ordeals in that house of pain.

Nathan never really became inured to the twice-daily punishment sessions. But by Saturday, he was at least getting through it. Thursday's 'humility' was worse in many ways as he'd been forced, with everybody else watching in the living room, to "lick out Billy's asshole" until it was "completely clean." He'd resisted at first, but being shocked with a cattle prod while you're naked in about eleven sensitive places proved very effective in breaking down his resistance. Thirteen-year-old Billy, also naked for this display of Nathan's humility, hadn't even wiped himself properly after being told in advance by his 13-year-old counterpart Josh that "Nathan has to give you a ream job during today's humility." It was disgusting, the taste of the younger boy's shit, and Billy's smiles of delight at Nathan's obvious discomfiture made the 14-year-old want to kill him with a dull knife. It took about twenty-five minutes, the whole humiliating exercise, and when it was over Nathan was allowed to run to the bathroom because he felt like he was about to retch. He didn't, amazingly, and ended up using mouthwash and brushing his teeth about three times to get rid of the awful taste.

Saturday evening's festivities were preceded by an easier day for Nathan, the no longer so outwardly defiant one. No 'humility' and the morning's punishment consisted only of having to do nude pushups and sit-ups to exhaustion while being whipped by John and Anthony with a small flogger in the contemporary room. It was strenuous and left some small raised welts but the 14-year-old made it to rest period virtually unscathed in comparison to some of the weekdays he'd already endured. He had to watch the Pain Factor show as a 'required' exercise but he was even starting to enjoy it, as he was imagining repeating some of the show's most painful ordeals on his 13-year-old housemates Josh and Billy. He wasn't likely to get that chance, but it didn't hurt to contemplate his own sadistic goals.

The 'guests' would begin arriving around 7 p.m. Josh and Billy were already out there, setting up the refreshments and snacks, and both punishment rooms would be well-used by the sadistic guests who were experienced 'in all things painful' to be tried out on young boys. It would run for three-and-a-half hours, from 7:30 p.m. until 11:00 p.m. and since there were only three boys to indulge in their wildest and cruelest fantasies, 14-year-old Nathan, who'd been labeled as being especially defiant, whether it was entirely true or not, wouldn't be ignored. It was 6:50 p.m. and Nathan was still in his room. Watching some kind of quiz show where if questions were answered incorrectly, nude boys were punished by being stoned with small rocks, Nathan was rudely interrupted in his own nascent sadistic tendencies.

"Tell him to shut off his TV and to come on out here. We have to do the stripping prelude in five minutes!" John was shouting. A few seconds later, Josh and Billy burst into Nathan's room, which was becoming routine and expected.

Nathan was ready for them as they entered. "I was just about to go out," he explained, "You didn't have to come in here and bother me!"

"Yes we did!" Billy argued to the older boy he was already beginning to feel somewhat superior to, "Otherwise, you'd be late and get Josh and me an extra punishment!"

By this time there were already about ten invited guests gathered in the living room, two couples, one lesbian and one gay; five single men, and two single women, with age ranges between twenty-five and sixty-five. It was 6:53 p.m., just two minutes from the boy's 'stripping' prelude, a minor humiliating entertainment that the guests seemed to enjoy more in relation to a particular boy's discomfiture.

Anthony and John were the perfect hosts. "Our boys will be ready in a moment. We have three this evening, Josh, Billy, and our newbie, Nathan," Anthony intoned. Most of the guests were already familiar with Josh and Billy, the thirteen-year-olds, but Nathan would be a novelty for them to play with. "He's fourteen, and is considered especially defiant," John added mischievously.

A minute later, Josh, Billy, and Nathan entered. All were wearing T-shirts; Billy's had "I'm a Pain Athlete" emblazoned upon his, Josh's was pink, as if it had once been white but had been washed with bright colors, and Nathan's was still white. The boys were also wearing nice Levi jeans with white briefs underneath; completing their ensembles were black-and-white basketball sneakers and white athletic socks. They were about to become nude again.

An eleventh invited guest had let himself in and quietly padded into the living room, a fat man with jiggling jowls who reminded Nathan of Jabba the Hut from the Star Wars Trilogy. He seemed too amiable to be a sadist, but this first impression was soon to be proven erroneous. "I got here just in time for the stripping," he remarked, loudly enough to embarrass all three boys immediately.

"Just in time," Anthony, who looked neat and trim in comparison to the Jabba look-alike, said with a grin.

"Okay boys, give John your T-shirts," Anthony said. Reluctantly, Josh, Billy, and Nathan complied, and when they did, some of the guests couldn't resist pawing their naked chests and backs. Nathan knew he couldn't protest.

"Your hightops and socks, remove them please," Anthony instructed. John snatched them up within seconds, leaving for a moment to deposit the footwear and shirts back on the boy's beds in their rooms. The boys were next told to sit down in the Lazy-boy recliner, all three scrunched together, and to "put your feet up on the end-table so we can all have get a closer look at them." For the next several minutes, the bare feet of Billy, Josh, and Nathan were palpated and tickled by at least twenty-two hands and five times as many fingers, in every way imaginable. I feel like a show animal, Nathan mused.

Barefoot and shirtless, the trio of young adolescent 'boy toys' was next ordered by Anthony to "Lose the jeans." A hesitation was inevitable, but an additional admonition produced the desired results. "C'mon guys, I don't want to add on other punishments," Anthony explained. A few seconds later, first Billy, and then Josh, and last the dawdling Nathan undid their belts, unzipped their flies, and pushed their blue jeans down their legs before stepping out of them and handing these to the ex-Marine John, who again vanished for a few seconds before returning to the living room. The 'program boys' were then ordered to "Place your hands behind your head and stand up straight," and so the inspections continued for several more minutes, now with the young teens down to their tighty whities. I can't stand this, Nathan mused, turning red as a beet and thinking back to that initial showroom and the horrid sign describing him initially as 'a defiant boy.' Several of these weirdoes were already showing an excessive interest in his body, and the Jabba the hut guy liked to pinch him repeatedly in sensitive spots. "Owwh!" Nathan could help exclaiming when a slightly harder pinch to the 14-year-old left thigh left a red mark.

"Take off your briefs. No time to be modest boys," Anthony ordered.

Again, they had to place their hands behind their heads so that these 'guests' could explore their bodies as if they were on display, which they were. Here I am standing stark naked being touched all over by these perverts, I hate you grandma, he couldn't help thinking maliciously.

But now 'guest time' was about to start, and either a single person or a couple got to select a naked boy to torment for a half-hour – taking a boy off alone either to one of the punishment rooms – the medieval or contemporary setting, or to the workout room, where the exercise equipment was. Billy went off to the workout room with a single man with a cleft lip named Nate, who looked about forty, and within a minute he was already screaming. Josh went off to the medieval room with a lesbian couple and was screeching inside of a minute. God knows that they're doing to him! Nathan couldn't help thinking. Soon enough it was his turn. "So, you're the defiant one," sneered Jabba the Hut, whose real name was Horace. They went off together to the contemporary room.

The contemporary room had a medical table covered with coarse white linen. "Hop up onto it and lie down on your stomach," the morbidly obese man said. He lay there waiting for a minute or so, and then felt a sharp pain. He was being pierced with a needle – the first one penetrating the skin on his right buttock. "Yeowwh!"

"That must have hurt, I'll bet," fat Horace said calmly. "Only forty-nine more on your backside," he added, "but I do them very quickly, so I can do both sides, your back and front, during my first half hour with you."

"What's your name boy?"

"Nathan!" He screeched as a second long needle pierced the back of the 14-year-old's scrotum, and emerged out the opposite side.

It went that way for months, until almost Thanksgiving that year, when Nathan was finally released from the indentured servitude program that his grandmother had suggested to his parents as a way of making him 'less defiant.' Every day the fitness training which included pain tolerance exercises, the humiliation sessions, the twice daily punishment sessions, the videos he had to watch to complete his 'training' – and a thousand other indignities and torments that he had to endure. Once he was caught 'bullying' Josh and 'beating the shit out of' Billy and was forced to endure a series of 'extra' punishments administered with a boy's vengeful ingenuity that he felt in retrospect were worse than anything administered to him by Anthony and John, his watchful guardians in the program.

But on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, he arrived 'home' and was met at the bus depot by 3; his grandmother.

She was waiting for him inside the car. When he just sat down on the passenger side, looking straight ahead, he tried to ignore her. His grandmother had put on some extra weight and now resembled that Jabba the Hut look-alike he'd encountered in the first Saturday evening 'entertainment' event.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

"Still sullen and defiant I see. Maybe you should go back in that wonderful program. I can get you sent back you know. So you'd better mind and be nice to your poor old grandma."

A tear rolled down Nathan's cheek. But he didn't say a word the whole trip home.

A year later, the indentured servitude program was just a bad memory. Nathan had become much more 'docile' and was no longer outwardly defiant. But after he graduated from high school and moved away from his family, he became estranged from them, and when he heard that his grandmother had died, he felt relief, instead of sorrow. This sense of relief made him feel defiant again, a little like the old Nathan. But the old Nathan had indeed been destroyed.

The End