Quark Master

The Island of Dr. Monroe

Chapter 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 2

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

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

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

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

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

While the sheer presence of this man drew my eyes, the others on dock were not what one would call ignorable. There were two other large men, one on each side of the giant man in chaps. Each of them, while shorter, was still over six feet [1.80 m] tall and nearly as heavily muscled. They too had very hairy chests, stomachs and legs, but their heads were completely bald, only eyebrows. These men wore no chaps. Instead each wore what looked to be leather jock straps about two sizes too small, and the same sort of crisscrossed leather straps and studded armbands. At their belts, each wore a rather nasty looking bullwhip, and something that looked like a narrow leather broom (?) They had leather handles like the whips, but ended in a number of long leather strips. Kind of like a multi-headed whip. I'd never seen anything like them before. I'd never seen anything like these men before.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Excuse me?" I asked rather confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Its approximately 5.2 inches [13.2 cm] when erect. Is that too big?" the doctor said. Monroe thought for a moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good, very good." Monroe said.

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

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

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

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

Chapter 5

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

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

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

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

"Wondering what this is?" he asked.

"Yes sir?"

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

"Feeding, sir?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 6

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Looking for something boy?"

"Uhmm, just my dinner sir."

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

"My dinner sir?" I asked stupidly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I don't know if I was doing good or bad, but he suddenly grabbed my head with both hands and straightened my mouth out on his dick. Before I knew it, he shoved his thick tube to the back of my throat, causing me to gag. He didn't care though, he pulled back and then thrust again, and again, and again. Then he stood still and began moving my head back and forth on his dick. All the way back, the backside of his crown brushed my lips, all the way in and I was gagging as his dick pushed against the back of my throat. My nose buried in his pubic hair. Even so, I could tell his penis was too long for my mouth, because at its farthest back there was still about a half an inch [1.2 cm] to an inch not in my mouth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No sir." I admitted.

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

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

"Yes sir," I said meekly.

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

"Yes sir."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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