Paolo & Slammr

Hop Sing

San Carlos Island story #2

The line flashing, unlike all the others, wasn't monitored by his receptionist. A direct line, it reached no phone other than his. Few people had the number. It was an encrypted line. Its ringing usually signified trouble, either for the company or for Wong. With trepidation, he reached for the phone. "Yes," he said. He didn't have to identify himself. Anyone calling would know it would only reach him.

"I need a favor," the voice on the phone said.

Wong had been expecting – and dreading this call – for two years. It was from Lester DelRay, a man even more ruthless than himself. He wished he'd never met DelRay, but their meeting had been inevitable. They were among the richest men in the world, and DelRay had purchased a security system for his compound from Wong's company. It was a purchase significant enough to require Wong's personal attention. Besides – they shared an affliction, the need to inflict pain upon others.

Particularly upon young boys.

Two years before, at one of DelRay's compounds, Wong had gone too far. He had killed the boy DelRay had provided for him. It wasn't the first boy he had killed, but it was the first one that had been recorded holographically.

He should have known DelRay would have had hidden cameras in his suite. But then, he hadn't intended to kill the boy. It had just happened. He'd hit the boy too hard and had broken his neck. Unfortunately, DelRay had recorded everything. He also didn't care how bad Wong felt about doing it; after all, it was such a waste. If the boy was dead, then he couldn't hurt him anymore.

DelRay hadn't made any threats when he'd played it back for him, but Wong had known that he would someday want to be compensated. The recording – even if it didn't result in criminal charges – would ruin him and his company. No one would purchase security systems from a company run by a man whose predilection might subject him to blackmail.

And he knew that DelRay was about to blackmail him. Not for money, perhaps – DelRay had more of that than he could spend in a lifetime – but for something Wong was likely to value more than money.

"What do you want?" asked Wong.

"A boy," answered DelRay.

A boy? Why would DelRay be calling him for a boy? He already had at least a dozen neutered slave boys, none older than twelve, at his compound in Dubai, and probably had many more at his various residences around the world. Unlike Wong, DelRay didn't care who knew of his predilection for little boys. DelRay was rich enough to be unconcerned about what anyone – even governments – thought about him. Besides, the governments in countries where he tended to reside only cared about his tax revenues – and someone that rich made a lot of that for them. Possibly the only person as rich as DelRay was Ben Toeber, the owner of San Carlos Island.

Wong, of course, had been to San Carlos Island. His company had installed their security system. Ben Toeber supplied his clients, some of the richest men in the world, with beautiful neutered slave boys, all trained to satisfy their every sexual desire – and with complete anonymity. Unfortunately, Ben didn't allow the clients to torture any of his boys. After Wong had hurt the boy Ben had provided him, Ben had let him know that he and his money were no longer welcome on San Carlos Island. He hadn't been back since.

"Why are you calling me?" asked Wong. "What boy can I get for you that you can't get for yourself?"

"A boy on San Carlos Island," said DelRay.

"Can't you buy him? Surely YOU can offer Ben a price that even he can't refuse."

"Toeber won't sell me a boy at any price," said DelRay. "Unfortunately, money means little more to him than it does to me. He has no qualms about neutering a boy, but he won't see him hurt afterward. He's aware that I sometimes play a little rough. You know what I mean?"

A little rough? Wong wondered how many bodies DelRay had already disposed of. He had no doubt DelRay had killed more boys than he had. He just had no proof of it.

"Why this boy?" asked Wong.

"He's beautiful," said DelRay.

"The world's full of beautiful boys," answered Wong. "Can't you find another just as beautiful?"

"Of course," said DelRay, "but I can have them. Toeber won't let me have this one. No one, not even ol' Ben – especially not Ben – denies me a boy I want. And besides, YOU owe ME. Remember?"

"But Toeber only puts his boys under contract for a few years. You can have him after he's fulfilled his contract."

"Why would I want him then, the used, castoff goods that he'd be?" said DelRay. "It's bad enough that Toeber has already neutered the boy – that I wasn't able to do it myself. You're an intelligent man. As you well know, I want the boy because Toeber won't let me have him. As I said, no one denies me anything I want, and I want this boy – now – not years from now."

"If Toeber won't sell him to you, why do you think he'd sell him to me?" asked Wong. "He won't even let me back on his damned island."

"I don't want to buy him," said DelRay. "I want to take him. I intend to steal him – to kidnap him."

"That's impossible," said Wong. "San Carlos Island is protected by one of our own security systems. Each boy wears a collar that tracks him, recording anything he says, or is said to him. You'd never be able to take a boy off the island, even if you could gain access to the island in the first place. No place on Earth is as secure as is San Carlos Island. And even if by some miracle you DID get him off the island, the GPS tracker in the kid's collar would tell Ben right where he is. It's impossible to break into anyplace protected by any of our systems, and San Carlos Island has our best. No one can crack it."

"Tsu Chung Shin can. He designed the system," DelRay replied.

"Even if he could, and I could convince him to do it, how would I get him onto the island?" asked Wong. "Toeber's own technicians maintain the system. He wouldn't allow my chief design engineer onto the island, not without his being escorted by Toeber's own technicians."

"Toeber doesn't know Tsu," said DelRay. "He doesn't have to know that Tsu works for you."

"Go as a client?" asked Wong. "What could he do as a client? No client has access to the security system."

"Not as a client – as a seller of merchandise. All he has to do is show up with a beautiful boy for sale, and Toeber will gladly purchase the boy."

"And where do we 3; does he 3; get said boy?" Wong asked.

"Does Tsu have any sons of his own?" DelRay asked in a cold tone.

Wong almost dropped the phone. How could DelRay know that? Stupid, he told himself, of course he'd know. He'd do his homework if he wanted to blackmail me. Of course he's found out about Tsu's four boys. "Y-yes, yes he does, he has four," Wong answered.

"And you're sort of friends with Mr. Tsu, aren't you?" DelRay went on, "Spent some time with the family, I think?"

Bastard, Wong thought, he's good, I'll give him that.

"Yes."

"So," DelRay went on helpfully, "Here's the plan: Have Tsu go to San Carlos Island and take one of his boys with him. Ben will see him, buy him, and then Tsu's on the island."

"And just what makes you think Tsu will want to sell one of his boys?" Wong asked, "Why would he need to, or want to? And even if he did, why would he try to crack his own security system?" Wong was hoping that DelRay didn't hear the apprehension in his voice. Unfortunately, he did.

"He'd need to sell him if he needed the money that badly," DelRay explained, as if talking to a very small child. It annoyed Wong a lot. "Faced with losing everything he's got, a man as far in debt as Wong is would probably jump at the chance to 'rent' his boy out for 500k CR a year, two years, that's a cool million CR's. Wouldn't you do it?" DelRay asked.

Wong just knew what was coming next. In his mind's eye, he saw the Tsu boys: An Dong, Guo Jian, Hop Sing, and Jie Kang. Quickly, he calculated the chances of which one would be sold. An Dong was too old; at 16, he was already well into puberty and hopelessly straight, with a girlfriend. For Guo Jian, it was possible. He was 13, but he still had the build of a child, 'baby fat', and no signs of puberty; a late bloomer. Jie Kang was way too young, at only 4 years old. That left 11-year old Hop Sing.

Just as DelRay had said, Wong was indeed familiar with the Tsu family. Hop Sing and Jie Kang even called him 'Uncle John', he was that much a figure in their lives. Having no children of his own, Wong had come to think of the Tsu family as almost being his own. He'd grown attached to the boys, and even given his predilections for playing rough – not to mention his sexual orientation in that direction as well – he'd never harmed any of them. He couldn't imagine harming any of them. For some reason, the Tsu boys were different in his eyes, and spending his free time with them was all the more time that he wasn't out harming other boys. They were more than the boys he saw on the streets. They were more than the boys he sometimes picked up and paid for sex – and other things. He was more than a 'rental' boy on some damned overpriced island resort.

He was Hop Sing.

He was the smiling boy who called him 'Uncle'.

He was the boy who sat on his lap and laughed.

11-year old Hop Sing, to whom he'd just given a restored antique model electric train for his birthday.

"Tsu's doing OK with his bills, I just gave him a raise," Wong countered, hoping to head that one off.

"Come, come," DelRay almost laughed, "We all know that your clientele is limited, Wong. And what happens when the patent on your newest systems runs out and the competition can duplicate them? What about sell-outs, disgruntled employees? Overpaid employees?" DelRay hinted. "And with the stock market, why, there's even hostile takeovers to worry about."

"Your point?" Wong demanded, realizing that DelRay could very well make good on that threat.

"Fire Mr. Tsu," DelRay snapped. "Spread some rumors about design flaws in his work – that way, no one else will hire him. Let the dogs bark at his door for a while. You'd be surprised what a desperate man will do. He might even sell his own son."

Then something else occurred to Wong. "Even if we did this, what makes you think Tsu could get at the security system? I mean, Ben isn't going to just let him at it, technicians or not – escorting him – so he can play with it?"

"Ben values his island above all else," DelRay replied, "If Tsu were to tell him who he is, why he's selling his son, and why he got fired, Ben will get nervous if he thinks there's a bug in his system. That system is valuable beyond words to his enterprise. Tsu will offer to find it, fix it, and salvage his reputation 3; probably in hopes of getting his son back as a reward. In any case, I'll leave that up to you and Tsu. All I care about is that the security system is disabled, allowing me to steal the boy. All you should care about is the video. Do we understand each other?"

Wong was silent for a while, hoping that DelRay had hung up. Try as he did, he couldn't find a loophole. DelRay seemed to have thought of everything.

"I'd hate for this video to get loose, Wong," DelRay finally said, "Even I get goosebumps watching it. Seeing that limp little head bobbling around on the boy's neck like one of those antique dog ornaments 3;"

"FINE!" Wong shouted at the phone. "You ruthless bastard!"

"You like the Tsu boys, don't you?" DelRay snickered, "I'll bet Ben will too. Fire Mr. Tsu, Wong. Fire him tomorrow, and think about which boy will be going to San Carlos Island."

CLICK! 3; 3; 3; and then silence on the line.

Wong sat at his desk for a long while, eventually taking out a photo from his wallet. All of the Tsu boys were beautiful, being the offspring of very handsome parents. As stared at the photo with his stomach tossing, Wong bit his tongue as he willed away the erection that forming in his pants. He failed.

Not THESE boys, he told himself, Any boys but these!

But still, he couldn't take his eyes from the image of Hop Sing.

Hop Sing, with his flawless round face and fuzzy, outgrown buzzed black hair. His mischievous expression, his dark eyes that sparkled with it. He wondered at the small flat area on the boy's left earlobe, even, thinking of how he often just touched the boy's face and told him how handsome of a boy he was. That always made Hop Sing giggle. In his mind's eye, he saw the boy again: sitting there playing his video game 3; chasing his little brother through the house while his mother yelled at them 3; protesting his nightly bath 3; and finally, just lying in bed fast asleep and looking very much like an Angel.

Then he saw a new vision of his favorite 'nephew' come to mind: Hop Sing, naked, with a green slave collar locked around his neck, Hop Sing with a smooth, hairless, groin where he once had genitals.

Wong got erect again, cursing himself.

Of course, he'd seen Hop Sing naked before. As a joke, he'd once stripped him and bodily dropped him into the deep bathtub one night. That, and the Tsu boys weren't raised to be ashamed of themselves. More often than not, any of them were liable to walk into the room naked without caring who was there in their home.

He'd have to find a boy that night. Any boy. He desired it.

He needed it. He needed a boy.

No, not ANY boy.

Some boy he didn't know. Some boy he didn't love.

Is it love? He asked himself, his erection growing almost painful, Or is it lust? Where's the line? He wondered, feeling disgusted at what DelRay demanded that he do, and feeling disgusted by the feelings that staring at this new vision of Hop Sing was giving him.

He was beautiful, this boy.

And Wong wanted him. Suddenly wanted him in ways that he'd never wanted him before.

Or had he?

Was it reflex that he got erect when they play-wrestled, or when he saw them naked? It made him feel almost ill as he realized it, thinking back to his past trips to San Carlos. He always picked the Asian boys. Asian boys with round heads, short hair, yellow-tan skin 3; he thought of the velvety feel of Hop Sing's head after a buzzcut 3; the roundness 3; that slight tan line at his hairline 3;

Wong put the picture away and reached for the phone again.

And he didn't want to do it.

But it was either do it, or be ruined. And it could work. Although a brilliant engineer, Tsu had a flaw. He gambled – playing both the horses at the Sha Tin racetrack and the tables in the casinos in Macau. He owed money to the wrong people, ones that would have no tolerance for his inability to repay them. They'd make the mortgage company look like Girl Scouts.

Wong couldn't just fire him, though. Tsu would be snapped up by other companies, competitors of Wong. He had a solution, however. He would accuse Tsu of embezzlement, and even design flaw, as DelRay had suggested.  That would serve a two-fold purpose, putting Tsu under his control, and accounting for certain missing funds, diverted by Wong for his own use.

Wong smiled to himself. Maybe this call from DelRay hadn't been the disaster it had seemed at first. A half million credits were missing. Tsu would likely receive a million for Hop Sing. For half of that, Wong would not press charges against Tsu and would let him keep his job – would insist he keep his job – at reduced pay, of course.

Yes, it could work. If anyone could hack into the security system at San Carlos Island, Tsu could. After all, he had designed the system.

"Get me Mr. Tsu right now," he told his secretary. "No – wait. I want to see Dunbar first. Have him come to my office straight away."

Roger Dunbar, his accountant, was as adept at manipulating figures as Tsu was at designing surveillance systems. Once he was finished, they would have irrefutable evidence that Tsu had stolen from the company.

Perhaps Wong would insist that DelRay kidnap Hop Sing along with the other boy. Then he could be more than an 'uncle' to Hop Sing. He wouldn't hurt him as he had other boys. At least, he wouldn't do anything to Hop Sing that would permanently mar him. Hop Sing could come to appreciate pain – to even want it. Many boys did. Hop Sing would come to understand that Uncle John's hurting him was only a demonstration of his love for the boy.

Wong ejaculated into his shorts at the thought of it, the first time that had happened since he'd been a teenager. It would work. It had to work. He HAD to have Hop Sing. He HAD to possess him.

Chapter 2
A Son's Duty

But this was Hop Sing, although his third son, his favorite, a beautiful boy. But his beauty was what made him so valuable, worth possibly a million credits, enough to pay off Wong and the loan sharks. And Wong had said that he could keep his job.

Although he hadn't stolen from the company, the figures said that he had. If Wong pressed charges, he would go to jail, losing everything, all his family, not just one child. Wasn't it Hop Sing's duty to save the family, when only he could? Was it that big a sacrifice Hop Sing was making? He would only be a slave – albeit a sex slave – for two or three years, then he would be free.

Of course, he would no longer have genitals.

Boys under contract to San Carlos Island were neutered, most having both their penises and testicles removed. Some were left with a penis, but no testicles, a few were left with testicles, but no penis, but only one in a thousand was allowed to keep both. Most likely, Hop Sing would leave San Carlos Island a smooth-crotch-nullo.

For life.

Once he was cut, there was no reattaching his genitals.

Hop Sing would be a eunuch – not male – for the rest of his life.

But there would be benefits, Tsu tried to justify it to himself. Ben Toeber took care of his boys. He didn't allow clients to hurt them, and if they did, they were expelled from the island and the boys would have the best medical care in the world. Everything was taken care of, even schooling. Beyond island schooling, Toeber now even threw in financial coverage of the boys' higher education in college – up to the Masters' Degree level, provided that the boy fulfilled his contract. The island boys had food, shelter, companions, and a tropical paradise to play in 3; when they weren't working. And even when they had grown up, and were no longer desirable as sexual partners, Ben still offered them jobs on the island, as there were plenty of those. Island boys wanted for nothing.

Nothing? Tsu wondered, carefully stashing the pamphlet that Wong had given him to read. He thought about it all the way home, still not sure if he even believe that such a place existed.

An island, autonomous, where boys were modified to be used a sexual slaves? Could it really exist? It was unbelievable. But yet, there was the pamphlet with full color photos – before and after – of the island boys. In the before pictures, the naked boys wore red collars and had genitals. In the after photos, they wore green collars and were eunuchs.

Prison security collars, Tsu snorted, recognizing the hardware that he himself had helped to build and then program, in the photos. If they'd told me what the collars and software codes were for, I'd have refused to make them!

But family was important in their culture, and even as advanced as they had become, the fact that sons begat sons to continue the line was still a major point. Of course, Tsu knew, he would still have three other sons that could present him with grandsons. Hell, he thought, his eldest might present him with one sooner than anyone wanted!

And it was his concern for his other three sons that steeled his resolve to go through with Wong's plan.

What if the bully-boys who collected for their bosses collected one of his other sons as payment? He'd heard the legends before that Asian children were often stolen and brokered to people anywhere in the world that wanted them 3; for whatever reason. The thought of Jie Kang, his youngest, simply vanishing one day made his flesh creep.

No, he told himself again, this was too important. The family was too important. He might have gotten himself into some of this mess, and perhaps it was wrong to place the burden of saving the family upon one of his boys, but there seemed to be no other alternative. Still, he simply couldn't believe that Wong, whom he thought was his friend, could do this to him. He hadn't been stealing company money, and he was sure that the software that ran his security systems was rock solid. They were suggesting that there might be a flaw in one of the system designs. Why?

There had to be another reason.

But what?

But for as analytical and computer-like as his mind worked, Tsu was too upset to think about it right then.

He still had to break the news to his family.

When Wong had handed him the brochure, he had told him he'd already made arrangements for him and Hop Sing to go to San Carlos Island. Wong had shown him naked pictures of Hop Sing, various poses taken over a span of years, pictures taken surreptitiously with a buttonhole, or other hidden camera, pictures Wong must have been taking for years when he had visited their home. He had sent them to the San Carlos website, and had already received a response:

"If the boy is all that he appears to be, we are interested. A charter flight for San Carlos Island leaves from Hong Kong International Airport tomorrow morning at 7:00 AM. Reservations have been made for the boy and his legal guardian. Both the boy and his legal guardian must sign a contract binding the boy to at least two years of servitude, awarding San Carlos Island, Inc., the right to neuter said boy (see details in file, attached).
By signing the contract, aforementioned legal guardian and boy surrender all rights and privileges concerning the boy for the term of the contract. During that time, he is the sole property of San Carlos Island, Inc. Visitations may be allowed twice a year, see other attachment.

Full details will be provided on the island at your meeting to discuss and negotiate said contract(s). We look forward to doing business with you and your boy."

Tsu didn't even have time to consider his options – he had none, actually – he and Hop Sing had to be on the plane to San Carlos Island in less than twelve hours.

As he walked into the door to his house, Tsu hadn't yet decided what he'd tell his wife – or Hop Sing for that matter. Would he tell her that he had sold their son into slavery, letting her know that Hop Sing would almost certainly have to have his penis and testicles cut off and that he would be a sex toy for rich men?

"Father!" Hop Sing screamed when his father walked through the door. He ran to him, throwing his arms around him "I love you," he said.

Hop Sing always greeted him so. That made what he had to do that much harder. Tsu couldn't bring himself to tell Hop Sing what was in store for him. Instead, patted the boy's nearly-bald head and said, "I leave on a trip tomorrow, Q. I want you to come with me." His father sometimes called "Q" when right after he'd had a haircut; it was short for 'queue ball', because of the roundness of his head.

"Where to?" asked Hop Sing, his face aglow with excitement.

"To a tropical island in the Pacific," said his father. "It's a paradise, from what I've been told."

"Can I come?" asked Guo Jian, Tsu's thirteen year-old son, who had just come into the room as Tsu had told Hop Sing about the trip.

"No," said Tsu, "only Hop Sing can come."

"But, why?" asked Guo Jian, "You've never taken me on a trip, and I'm older than Hop Sing. " Even Hop Sing looked at his father quizzically. Privileges in their family were awarded strictly according to age. It was unprecedented for Hop Sing to be offered such an honor before his older brother. And such an honor was usually reserved for the eldest.

"Mr. Wong has instructed me to take Hop Sing. You know that Hop Sing has always been his favorite."

"That's not fair," said Guo Jian, glaring at his younger brother. "I should get to go, not Hop Sing. Is it because I don't call him 'Uncle John' like Hop Sing does?"

"QUIET," said Tsu. "I'll hear no more argument from you. It is settled. Hop Sing is going. We leave early tomorrow morning." Be glad that you haven't attracted Wong's attention, Tsu thought, but didn't say it aloud. Still, he had to wonder if Wong had any pictures of Guo Jian, like he did of Hop Sing. The thought sickened him as he thought about that – how Wong obviously liked little boys, given that he even KNEW of San Carlos Island.

Just as he hadn't been able to tell Hop Sing what was in store for him, neither could Tsu tell his wife. How could he? He probably wouldn't even tell her when he came back from San Carlos Island without the boy, instead telling her that he'd apprenticed the boy out – to what he'd tell her, he hadn't yet decided. Of course, she'd find out, when Hop Sing returned, but that wouldn't be for two years.

Families could visit the boys on the island twice a year. Tsu might go visit Hop Sing – if his guilt wasn't more than he could bear – but he wouldn't be taking his wife or other sons. It was a blight on humanity that such places as San Carlos Island existed, yet he was about to give – no, not give, sell – his son to them. He was no better than a pimp, a pimp for his own son.

Tsu didn't sleep at all that night. A hundred times he decided not to go through with it, but a hundred and one times he realized that he must. If he didn't, his other sons might be even worse off. When it came down to it, it was a numbers game, balancing a scale, Hop Sing on one side and the rest of his family on the other. Time after time, he saw that the scale tilted in favor of the rest of his family.

About four in the morning, he got out of bed, picked up his briefcase, took it into another room and opened it, taking out something he'd brought from work, a hypodermic. In it was a small microchip, one infected with a virus.

For some reason, Wong wanted him to bring down the security system on San Carlos Island.

Unbeknownst to Wong, Tsu had modified the chip. It had capabilities beyond those Wong knew about. Software designers, always – ALWAYS – left themselves a 'back door' in their works.

Tsu walked into Hop Sing's room. The boy was asleep. Tsu pressed the hypodermic against his neck, pulling the trigger, injecting the microchip deeply under his skin. Hop Sing never stirred. He hadn't felt anything.

San Carlos Island not only had their own plane for flights inbound, but they also had a private waiting room at Hong Kong International at a terminal separated from that serviced by the commercial carriers. The anonymity of those going to San Carlos Island was protected. Tsu's identity was checked twice before he and Hop Sing were admitted to the terminal. Upon their arrival, they were immediately ushered onto the plane. Luggage was not a problem, either. Tsu carried only a small take-on. Hop Sing carried nothing. The confused boy had only been told that anything he needed would be supplied when they got there.

The interior of the plane was subdivided, providing each group of passengers with their own suite. Neither Hop Sing nor his father saw any of the other passengers. They had comfortable lounge chairs and their own holographic sets to watch, supplied both with videos and video games.

Tsu let Hop Sing play video games for most of the trip. He didn't feel like watching a video.

Normally, Tsu always thought that flights lasted forever. This one, however, was over all too quickly. In what seemed like only a painfully short time, the plane was on final approach to San Carlos Island.

"Father, look!" Hop Sing shouted excitedly, pressing his round face against the window, "There it is! Look at it!"

Tsu didn't share his son's enthusiasm.

He couldn't.

"Please remain seated until your escort arrives to aid with disembarking," a voice said over the intercom, just as the plane touched down. A few minutes after stopping, a security guard entered their suite. Tsu blinked in surprise at the sight of the tall, and obviously armed, dark-skinned man. He was wearing what looked like a uniform of sorts, but one obviously built for the tropics. It was mostly light beige, a camouflage pattern, and it was obvious that he was all business.

"Mr. Tsu and Hop Sing?" He asked in a formal tone, but with a voice that sounded boyish.

"Yes?"

The man briefly introduced himself with a name that tangled Tsu's tongue. "Island security," he explained, "If you and the boy will come with me, please," he instructed them.

"Did we do something wrong, father?" Hop Sing asked.

The guard winked at him. "No, just a check. We have to be safe," he explained in a more pleasant tone.

As they got off the plane, the guard took Hop Sing's hand. "You hold his other, sir. There won't be a problem with the boy's identity being mistaken, since he's clothed. This way," he said, directing them to a door at the small airport. They entered a very Spartan suite, where another guard was waiting for them. He took Tsu's carry-on, opened it, and began checking things. The first guard began going over them with a wand. Tsu smiled inwardly. The wand would never 'see' the chip that he'd injected into the boy. It had no metal in it, and was a miracle of modern chip design. In fact, it could even be called prototypical.

"All clear," the guard announced, picking up a wall-mounted phone. "Mr. Tsu has arrived, sir, with the boy," he told someone.

"Here you are, sir," the first guard said to Tsu, presenting him with a visitor's security badge. "Keep this visible at all times, please. Mr. Toeber will be right in to escort you to Admissions and discuss the legalities." He then looked at Hop Sing, who was expecting a badge as well.

"Please have the boy undress," the guard ordered Tsu.

Hop Sing looked confused. Tsu looked dismayed.

"Father?" The boy asked, wondering why this man was making him take his clothes off.

"Do as he says, Q.," Tsu said, a bit too harshly.

Looking hurt, but ever obedient, Hop Sing did as he was told. He kicked his sneakers off, pulled off his shirt, dropped his cargo shorts, and stood there in his white briefs.

"The underpants too," the guard ordered, "and the jewelry."

Hop Sing blushed, but did as he was told. Hop Sing slipped off his briefs, removed his watch and necklace, and handed them over. The guard then placed his clothing in a small box, tagged it with his name, the date, and then tossed it into what appeared to be a baggage chute. Hop Sing watched, confused, moving to hide behind his father. Being naked at home was one thing, but being naked in front of strangers was something new. It frightened the boy.

Next, after measuring Hop Sing's neck, the guard produced up a bright red collar, made of thick carbon monofilament. It was light, but incredibly strong. No tool could cut it. He snapped it around Hop Sing's neck. The collar made a small chirping sound.

Tsu, recognizing it for what it was, looked away.

"What's that for?" asked Hop Sing, feeling at the collar and tugging at it.

"It's just for safety," the second assured him, just as the door opened and another man walked in.

"Mr. Toeber, sir," the guards greeted him. "Mr. Tsu and his son, Hop Sing, as by appointment!"

"Very good, gentlemen, very good! If you'll accompany us to my office then, and I'll assume all is in order?" Toeber said.

"The boy's personals are stored, and Mr. Tsu has only his carry-on, sir," the first guard explained, "And the boy's collar is active."

"Excellent!" Toeber nodded, "If you'll follow me, then?" He went on, headed for the door, "I hope you don't mind the golf cart, but it's a nice walk to my office from here, all that jet noise, you know! Shall we?"

Tsu took his son's hand. The boy didn't move.

"But father! I'm naked!" Hop Sing exclaimed. "I can't go outside!"

"Come now," Tsu told him, jerking his arm.

"I want my clothes back!" Hop Sing protested, covering his genitals in embarrassment. "Father! What's happening?" He asked, tears welling up in his eyes.

Ben offered the boy his hand. He smiled at him, trying to put him at ease. "The collar is to ensure that nothing happens to you while you're here. You can ask it questions, like if you get lost, and it serves as a signal to others on the island. Now, didn't your father tell you that this was sort of 3; a nudist resort?"

"Oh," Hop Sing said, but remembering his manners, didn't ask why nobody else there was naked.

"I'll prove it," Ben assured him, giving a gentle tug.

"OK," the boy conceded.

They exited the building and boarded one of two golf carts. Hop Sing rode in the second, sitting between the two guards, who pointed out things of interest to him. It didn't take long for the boy to forget his embarrassment as he gaped at the scenery. He'd never seen anything like it.

"Over there's a golf course, if you play," the darker guard pointed out, "Down over the cliff's the beach. We have swimming, sports, even surfing classes if you like?"

Hop Sing took the binoculars the guard offered him and looked. Sure enough, everyone down on the beach was naked. The binoculars weren't powerful enough for him to really see details, but the fact that everyone appeared to be male didn't register with him. Before long, his curiosity got the better of him and he started to ask questions.

When they pulled up to the Admissions building and parked, Ben collected Hop Sing from the guards, who suddenly looked tired. Ben laughed. He took the boy by the hand again and led him and his father to his office. They sat at Ben's large desk, and the man pulled out a few papers. An older teenage boy dressed only in a white apron brought them refreshments.

"I'll admit, I'm a bit confused," Ben confessed. "Of course, we were very impressed with the, ahhh, data on Hop Sing here, but I'm at a loss to understand the rest?"

Tsu swalled some of his drink, hard. "It's a matter of business, Mr. Toeber. You're buying, I'm selling."

Hop Sing looked confused. For one thing, he knew his father didn't buy and sell. He worked for Uncle John and wrote computer software. Maybe he's going to sell him some security computer stuff? The boy thought. But that made him wonder why he had to be there, and why a nudist resort would need it? Then he figured everybody needed a security system. But that made him wonder why HE was the only there who was naked. Still, he just sat in his chair quietly, as he'd been taught, and just listened, sipping his bottle of water while his father read over some papers. He was looking around the room and not really listening, wondering when he'd get to go to beach, when he heard the words "various levels of neutering."

"Why don't we get some pictures first, for the security files?" Mr. Toeber asked. "Hop Sing, we need to take some pictures of you?"

"Naked?" The boy squeaked, almost choking on his drink.

Toeber nodded. Hop Sing looked at his father, but he was very engrossed in his reading. "Go and do as Mr. Toeber says," he mumbled.

Reluctantly, Hop Sing followed Mr. Toeber (he said to call him 'Ben') through a door behind his desk. It was a small photo studio with all black walls and some umbrella shaped lights. He was directed to go and stand on a slightly raised circular platform. He did that, and it began to revolve slowly as the lights began to flash. "Just stand still and relax, don't forget to smile!" Toeber coached him. "Now, that's not too bad, is it?" Toeber grinned at him. "Hands down, it's OK if you get an erection." Hop Sing looked down to see that he was indeed erect again. He blushed. When the shoot was done, Ben asked, "That didn't hurt a bit, did it?"

"No, sir," Hop Sing admitted, just hoping that no one else saw the pictures.

They went back and sat at the desk, where the boy saw that his father was done reading. "So, the payment is 500k CR per year, with a two year minimum?"

"And tips," Toeber nodded, "He gets to keep most of his tips, we only take a small percentage of those. And any gifts from clients are his to keep. All his medical, dental, and optical issues are paid by us at no cost to you, by our staff here. That's one million CR, transferred electronically, and immediately accessible, as well. There's also school on the island, and we pay for college fully, up to, but not including a PhD. Of course, if he applies for a special job here, that needs further schooling, we'll cover that too. That's if he stays beyond the initial minimum two years or not, but he MUST complete the two year minimum." Toeber didn't mention what happened if he didn't. "Of course, HE can sign up for longer if he likes. Some do," Toeber said vaguely, guessing from the confused look on Hop Sing's face that his father had NOT told the boy just what was going on. "But, after two years, he is free to leave and go back home. I'm just letting you know that he CAN come back anytime." Toeber added, glancing at Hop Sing, who was beginning to look like he knew that they were talking about him.

He doesn't have a clue, Toeber thought, The father's not told him a thing! Actually, it excited Toeber. He always loved to see the look on boys' faces when they found out – after it was far too late.

"And you don't allow them to be hurt?" Tsu asked.

"Only the occasional light-rough play, and it's monitored. We don't allow anything permanently damaging."

"But the other part, the neut- 3;," Tsu paused, glancing at his son. He held the pen in his hand tightly, poised to sign the contract.

Poised to sign over the rights to his son for two years.

Poised to sign the rights for Ben Toeber to rob the boy of his future manhood.

"That's yet to be determined," Toeber interceded, "But it's more than likely to happen. Only 1 in 100 don't."

"Excuse me?" Hop Sing asked, "But 3; but are you talking about me?" He was, after all, the only other one in the room that the word "him" could have referred to.

"Yes, son, we are, now be quiet," Tsu admonished him. "Mr. Toeber will speak TO you when he is ready."

Hop Sing sat back as he'd been taught. When his father spoke, he obeyed. That was how it was.

"So there's school here?" Tsu asked.

"School, sports, all sorts of fun for his off-time, yes," Toeber agreed, "You can read all about it here," he handed Tsu a thick pamphlet with lots of pictures in it. "And careful diet and exercise monitoring, regular checkups, and of course, he'll have lots of friends!"

Hop Sing began to realize that it sounded a lot like what they were saying meant that he was staying – staying on the island for two years, if he understood correctly. He began to get nervous. He'd heard stories from his friends before, at school, about how sometimes a family would apprentice, or even SELL, an extra child to make money. Surely his father wasn't selling HIM, was he? Hop Sing thought they had plenty of money, and besides, his father loved him 3; didn't he?

He wouldn't sell ME would he? The boy wondered. And what kind of job would I learn HERE?

"Are you ready to sign, Mr. Tsu?" Toeber asked, "Of course, you may back out now, if you like. However, if you do, there will be a fee for the trip here and back."

Tsu winced. There was no way he could afford that kind of fee now. After all, it had been a private charter flight.

Then, with a very long breath and a terrible expression on his face, Tsu signed the contract. As he slapped the pen down on the desk, the sound of it filled his ears like thunder.

He'd done it.

He'd signed his son over into slavery.

"I want you to know that I do not do this lightly," Tsu whispered, "But the financial need is too great. If Hop Sing can do this to save his family, then he will. His honor will not allow him NOT to."

Finally, it appeared to be Hop Sing's turn to find out what was going on. It was definitely something big, the boy realized, if it involved his father mentioning honor and family in front of strangers. I have to save my family? He wondered.

Ben Toeber looked him right in the eye, and slid the papers over to him.

"You don't know what's going on here, do you, boy?" He asked.

"No, sir?" Hop Sing shook his head.

"By signing this contract, you will become a slave, not forever, but for the term of the contract. That's the two years we're talking about. If you sign, I will own you. In a sense, I will be your father, not Mr. Tsu. He has already signed you over to me. All I need now is your signature."

Panic stricken, looking an animal about to bolt, Hop Sing looked at his father – the man that had just sold his rights to him. "Father? What is he saying? You're my father!"

Looking straight ahead, seemingly staring at a spot on the wall, or at nothing, his father said, "Sign the papers, Hop Sing. As your father, I'm ordering you to. For the sake of our family, you must."

Hop Sing shook his head, an open act of defiance. Normally he would never have done that, but he was panicked. "Go get Guo Jian! HE wanted to come!" Hop Sing squeaked. Ben laughed, hard.

"No, Hop Sing. You. Not your brother. Now, for the sake of the family, SIGN IT!" Tsu said in a tone that invited no argument.

For the sake of the family? He was only eleven. How did the family's fate suddenly rest on his shoulders? Used to obeying, dutiful son that he was, Hop Sing picked up the pen, but Ben placed his hand over his. "Do you know what you're signing, Hop Sing?"

Hop Sing looked down at the papers. He could read the words – most of them anyway – but in legalese, the contract meant nothing to him. Most adults can't make sense out of such legal documents as contracts. An eleven year-old boy certainly can't. He shook his head.

"Just as I said before," Ben Toeber explained patiently, "if you sign, you belong to me. Your father will leave you here, where you'll remain for the next two years. You'll work for me. We'll treat you well, and you'll be financially set for life. After fulfilling your contract, you'll never have to work again, because you get paid very WELL to work here. I'm paying your father a million credits for you. That's a lot of money, don't you think?"

"You're selling me, Father?" Hop Sing asked.

Still refusing to look at him, his father said, "It's only for two years. Then you can come home."

"But, I don't want to stay here! I want to go home with you. I want to go home to mother!" The longest Hop Sing had ever been away from his mother was two weeks in the summer, when he had gone to camp. Now his father was talking about two years. Two years without seeing his mother, brothers, or his father.

Hop Sing had so looked forward to this trip with his father. Now, he wished he'd never come. He really wished that Guo Jian had come instead.

"If you don't sign," his father shouted, "I'll be killed. Do you want that?"

"You – You'll be killed?"

"Yes," said Tsu, "and you and your brothers will likely be sold into slavery, anyway, under much worse conditions than you'll experience here. You can save us, Hop Sing. You can save us all. It's your duty. Do you think I would ask this of you, if there was any other way? Do you think I would sell any of my sons, if there was any other way?"

"But why?" asked Hop Sing. "Why would you be killed if you don't sell me?"

"I owe money to some people – a lot of money to some very bad people. If I don't pay them back, they'll kill me."

"But, Uncle John would give you money," said Hop Sing. "He wouldn't let them kill you."

"You foolish boy," said Tsu. "Your 'Uncle' John is the one that's making me sell you. If I don't – he'll fire me. Sign the papers. It's only for two years. You can save us all by signing. It's your DUTY, Hop Sing."

Duty. There was that word again. Even to eleven year-old Hop Sing, duty meant everything. Duty and honor. He was crying, but he picked up the pen again – started to sign. Ben stopped him again.

"That's not all," Ben said. "Did you read here in the contract, that by signing, that you agree to be neutered? Do you know what that means, to be 'neutered'?"

Hop Sing shook his head, "No, Sir," he said.

"It means that we may cut off your testicles, your penis, or both, likely both," said Toeber. "With few exceptions, almost all of our boys are fully neutered. That means that they have both their penis and testicles removed." He then handed the boy a small photo album, filled with three-dimensional holographic prints. They were all of boys, naked, in the studio where he'd just been. On the left page of the book, all of the boys looked like boys – with boy parts intact – and were wearing red collars like his. On the right hand side of the book, that same boy was shown wearing a green collar – and every one of them had nothing between his legs.

Nothing but smooth skin.

"But – but – why?" gasped Hop Sing, glancing first at his penis which had suddenly become erect, then at his father, who still refused to look at him. He put his hand down into his lap, dropping the photo album, and grasping his little hard cock in his hand. Why would they want to cut it off?

"You'll work here as an entertainer," said Toeber, "Entertaining rich clients. Most of those clients prefer to be entertained by nullos. That's boys that have been neutered. It's not as bad as you might think, to be neutered. Most boys, after they've had time to adjust to being nullos, like it. I know you're too young to understand, but you'll find life much less complicated without a penis and testicles. I have no doubt that you'll someday be glad you became one. Why, many boys come back here to work after they've fulfilled their contracts, so it can't be that bad. Why, some of them even come here to work as lifetime careers. Remember the guards?"

Hop Sing didn't really CARE about the guards just then. "Do you want them to cut off my peepee?" Hop Sing asked his father.

"It's not a matter of what I want," said Tsu. "It's what you must do to save the family. Do you want me to die? Do you want your mother to die? Because that might happen, too. These are bad men, Hop Sing. They will kill me, may kill your mother, and will certainly take you anyway. If they sell you into slavery, it will be forever, and not just you, but your brothers, too. What is worth more, your peepee, or your mother's life?"

Of course, Hop Sing knew the answer to that question. With tears streaming from his eyes, he picked up the pen again. This time, Toeber let him sign. Once he had, Toeber touched the button on what looked like some kind of remote control device. Then he reached across the desk, taking off Hop Sing's red collar, and replacing it with a gold one. "The gold collar means that you belong to me. Say goodbye to your father." Then to Tsu, he said, "It's best that you leave now. We find that it's easier on the boy that way."

Well, that's that, Tsu thought, Since the owner is tossing me out. To hell with Wong and his product tampering!

Tsu got up, and without looking back at Hop Sing, or telling him goodbye, walked out, shutting the door behind him. The slam echoed in Hop Sing's ears.

"Father, I love you," Hop Sing said, almost inaudibly, but his father had already gone – and without answering him.

Chapter 3
Hop Sing's Physical Exam

"Ronnie is our newest resident doctor," Ben informed him, "He's going to make sure you're all clean and in good health before you're exposed to the rest of the population here."

"But I already had a bath before we came!" Hop Sing protested, "And I'm not sick 3; sir!" He added, suddenly remembering to use the title. The door opened, and Hop Sing jumped a little.

Ronnie was tall and slim, with a full head of thick brown hair. He wore glasses, and he was dressed in white scrubs with a large red cross on left breast pocket. He came in and offered a long-fingered hand to Hop Sing, who shook it reluctantly. "Why do they all look at me like that?" Ronnie demanded of Ben, in a voice that sounded like a boy's and not a man's. "Relax, little buddy, I'm not gonna hurt you – much," Ronnie admitted.

"I hate doctors," Hop Sing grumbled, as Ronnie urged him out of his seat, holding his hand. Hop Sing's free hand moved to cover his genitals. Even though he'd been relieved of his clothing – except for a pair of sandals for outside – upon his arrival on the island, he was far from used to walking around naked when all these strange adults were dressed. He could feel his face getting hot as Ronnie brushed his hand away from his crotch.

"Manners," Ben reminded him.

"Sorry, sir," Hop Sing replied quietly.

"Has he had plenty of water?" Knox asked.

Ben nodded at Hop Sing, who got the hint. "They made me drink four bottles, you know, the pop bottle size, already, sir," the boy answered as politely as he could. The doctor seemed pleased.

"He'll need the usual, Ronnie. New arrival, all that stuff 3; you know the drill. Clean him up, clean him out, rabies shots, all that good stuff!" Ben advised.

"Rabies?!" Hop Sing squeaked, not realizing it was a joke.

"C'mon, Buddy," Ronnie said, giving the boy a small tug.

"Hop Sing, sir," the boy replied, reluctantly following him, and glad that he wasn't getting an embarrassing erection in front of everyone again.

"OK, I'll call you 'Hop', then," Ronnie agreed, "Seriously, though, we do have a few shots to give you," Ronnie explained, as they headed out the door, "Now the medical complex is just over there," he pointed out the window, "Get your sandals, we'll cut across the yard 3;," his voice trailed off as the doctor led the boy from the room.

Ben then turned to his computer. "Computer, commence new recording for new arrival, 'Hop Sing', class red, and save initial arrival data file." The computer's screen flickered for a moment, then it did as told. Ben raised an eyebrow. It wasn't often that the computers 'burped'.

"Confirmed," The computer's voice replied, in a soft feminine tone, "Hop Sing is now located on the front lawn of Admissions, headed for the hospital with Doctor Knox."

"Another day, another 3; well, you know how that goes," Ben said to himself, as he watched the video of Knox leading the boy across the grass. "Track Hop Sing, view live video," Ben told the computer. High above their heads, and unbeknownst to Hop Sing, a coconut swiveled and gave Ben a better view from its hidden camera. The lens zoomed in and followed the pair as far as its focal length allowed, then the camera at the door of the hospital took over.

"Kick off your shoes and put them on the shelf," Knox told the boy, who did that. Hop Sing flinched when Knox sprayed his feet with some kind of aerosol. "Disinfectant," he explained, spraying his own and putting on slippers. He didn't offer Hop Sing a pair. He then ushered the boy into a large room all painted white, lined with cabinets, cupboards, shelves, sinks, even bathroom facilities on the far end behind a glass wall. There was an exam table in the center of the room, a few padded chairs, some small tables, potted plants, and another smaller exam table behind the glass wall in the bath area.

Expecting the usual, as he had had physicals before, Hop Sing got on the table. Knox took his vitals, then pulled out a large needle to take blood. Hop Sing almost fainted! Knox then poked, squeezed, prodded, made him cough for a hernia check, and even picked him up and shook him gently once. "I just wanted to make sure your head was screwed on tight," he told the boy, which made him laugh. He also tested his reflexes, discovering in the process that the boy was extremely vulnerable to tickling – especially on the soles of his feet. When he was done, he made notes. "Allergies?"

Hop Sing shook his head. "Just one headache pill, that yellow one? Makes me 3;"

"Makes you puke," Knox finished for him, "Lots of people have that problem with it. NO food allergies at all?"

"No, sir," the boy shook his head.

"Go on in there and get a shower, then," Knox ordered him. "Your collar is waterproof, remember, so don't worry about it. Use the soap in the red bottle on your lower body, all over. Scrub it in with the washrag, everywhere! Use the green bottle for your head and face, behind your ears," he smiled, patting the boy's head, "And for what hair you do have. DO NOT get the red soap in your eyes! It stings like heck!"

"Yes, sir," Hop Sing sighed, doing as he was told. Knox watched him lather up and scrub for a while, then, much to Hop Sing's surprise, stripped down to what looked like white boxers and joined him. Knox took the washrag from him. Hop Sing wondered why the doctor didn't have any hair on his legs or chest; his father did, after all. So did Uncle John.

"Why a boy can't wash himself at this age, properly, is beyond me," the doctor grumbled, as he proceeded to scrub where he felt the boy had been negligent. Hop Sing winced when Knox told him to bend over. "Don't worry, I'm not going to DO anything like THAT to you, if that's what you're thinking," Knox assured him, giving Hop Sing's backside a good scrubbing. He then cleaned the boy's genitals, which made him yelp and get another erection. "Sorry," Knox offered. "Not used to that," he said. Then he noticed that the boy was trembling. "What?" He asked.

"Are you 3; are you 3;," Hop Sing began haltingly, "Gonna cut it off NOW?" He finally managed to ask, putting his hands down to hold his genitals again.

Knox laughed. "No!" He said in a sympathetic tone, "Not NOW! That won't happen for a while yet, not until after you're fully trained! Didn't they tell you that?"

"No," the boy muttered dismally, "I just found out they're gonna cut it all off when I got here," he sniffled. "Nobody told me, an' if they did, I would'a run away!"

"I see," Knox said knowingly, having heard it a hundred times before, as he picked up the green bottle and began scrubbing away at Hop Sing's fuzzy head. "There's a little chunk gone out of your left earlobe," he observed.

"Born that way," the boy replied, clenching his eyes shut as the soap tingled all over him. The red soap on his lower body was actually beginning to burn a bit. Hop Sing didn't know that it was actually soaking in and killing all the hair follicles, so that he'd never have body hair anywhere again, no matter what, after a few weeks of using it. He didn't even notice when the fuzz that he had here and there washed off.

"Oh, here, pee in that," Knox suddenly remembered, handing the boy a large cup. "That's why you had all the water to drink!"

"Pee test?" Hop Sing knew, which made him smile. Knox caught it. At least that was funny, for the moment. He was sure the boy wouldn't be smiling very shortly.

Finally, it seemed that the doctor was happy with the clean boy and rinsed him. He shut the water off. "Now, hop up on the table here," he ordered him. The boy smirked at the pun, which Knox didn't catch. "Lay back." Hop Sing did that. "Now, I have to ask, Hop, have you ever had anything – anything at all – put up your butt before?"

"No?" Hop Sing answered nervously. "But you said 3;?"

"I have to give you an enema, several in fact," Knox informed him, "Do you know what that is?"

"No, sir," the boy replied, as Knox positioned him on the table. Actually, it was more of a padded frame than a table. It was built like an 'X' with a headrest.

"Well," the doctor went on, moving to secure the boy's ankles. Hop Sing sat back up in surprise. "Now, just relax! That's so you don't move and hurt yourself!" Hop Sing laid back. Knox secured his ankles and wrists, then placed a padded white strap across his chest. "Now, what an enema does is fill up your insides – your guts, if you will – with soap and water and other ingredients. It cleans you out inside, so there's nothing bad left up in there."

Hop Sing's eyes went wide. "You mean it makes me go?"

"You'll GO like it's the end of the world," Knox nodded, reaching for the showerhead. Hop Sing noticed that there was a white hose hanging beside it, with some kind of gauge in the middle of the line. Doctor Knox attached it to the showerhead and let it hang while he went to look in a cabinet. He returned with a small conically shaped thing in his hand, then attached it to the hose. He then fetched a small bulb with a long black snout. He fetched a tray full of odd things that the boy didn't know what they were, then put his scrubs back on. He also put on a pair of white rubber boots and rubber gloves.

"Are you gonna put that up my butt?" Hop Sing asked nervously, as Knox took a tube of lubricant from his tray and smeared some on the bulb. He then filled a smaller ear syringe and nodded. Hop Sing gulped.

"First, we inject some lube into your bottom," Knox explained, gently smearing some on the boy's tight anus. Hop Sing flinched again, but it didn't hurt. It just felt funny. Very gently, he felt the doctor probing at his hole with a fingertip. "Just relax, push out like you have to poop," he advised the boy. Hop Sing did that, and gasped loudly when Knox's finger slid in. He got hard at once, his small penis standing right up. The doctor saw it.

"That's a good sign," he commented, moving his finger around. Hop Sing's penis twitched, and he moaned as the doctor's finger touched something very funny inside of him. It didn't hurt; in fact, it sort of felt good. Still, it humiliated him. There he was, strapped down and helpless, and getting hard with a doctor's finger up his butt. Hop Sing blushed.

"Easy now," the doctor told him, pulling his finger out and replacing it with the syringe. The boy felt something warm and slimy going into him. "That makes it all slick so the nozzle won't hurt you," the doctor went on, picking up the bulb. "This has the main ingredients in it, we'll infuse those first." He then touched the nozzle of the bulb to the boy's anus, gently, working it back and forth slowly to open him up. Finally, he eased it in and squeezed the bulb. "Soap, phosphates, salt, and some other things," he explained. Hop Sing gasped and grew fully erect as the cleansing solution was emptied into his bowels. Then the doctor took the hose down and started running some water through it. He then lubricated the conical nozzle, which looked huge to Hop Sing.

"That 3; that goes up my BUTT too?" the boy squeaked.

"It goes in and stays in for ten minutes," Knox nodded, "That's why the table is in here with the showers and a floor drain. The nozzle makes it so you can't let the water out until I take the nozzle out. Now, I want you take some deep breathes, relax, and don't worry!"

Hop Sing nodded and tried to relax. His penis throbbed in time with his pulse, and he wanted to reach down and touch it, play with it, but he couldn't with his hands bound. He gasped again as the doctor pressed the tip of the nozzle against his anus and began sliding it in. The nozzle moved in a little, then the doctor pulled it back. He then pushed it forward, back, then forward again, working it to relax the anus even more. The boy whimpered, as it did hurt just a little at first. Then the plug passed the ring of muscles and slid into place. Hop Sing exhaled hard. "Now comes the water," Knox told him, turning the water on. Hop Sing could feel the warm water filling him, staring at the hose and the gauge on it. "One and one-half quarts [1.4 liter] is what you get," Knox informed him. "When you're bigger, you can take more. Some of the older boys, those who stayed on, can even take three quarts [2.8 l]." He watched the gauge as it passed the 'pint' mark.

Hop Sing squealed as the first cramp hit him.

Knox began massaging his tummy, then tilted the table back to elevate the boy's feet. "This gets the water deep inside you," the doctor explained, "The cramps will pass."

Hop Sing nodded, trying not to cry. He didn't like the funny feeling of the plug in his butt, and the feeling of warm water and bubbling up inside of him frightened him. The gauge passed the quart mark, and his tummy began to swell outwards.

"Please, sir!" the boy cried, "I have to go NOW!"

"Ten minutes," the doctor reminded him, shutting off the flow and clamping the tube. He then continued to massage the boy's swollen tummy, working his hands up the left side, over, and then down the right. The whole time, Hop Sing's erection bobbed in time with his pulse. "Still a good sign," Knox told him, as the boy began to sweat. He was getting hot all of a sudden. "Deep breathes, that's it, just a few more minutes!"

Hop Sing shook his head. He'd never had to go so badly before in his life! He tried to force the nozzle out, to find some kind of relief from whatever it was that felt like it was eating his guts out, but he couldn't. Then Knox tilted the table so that he was in a standing position and flicked a lever. Hop Sing's knees buckled as the table collapsed to put him in a kneeling position over the floor drain. Knox put a small pail under him. "For a stool sample," he explained, as he made ready to unplug the boy. "Here we go! When you feel it come out of you, just GO, OK?"

Hop Sing could only nod. When the plug came out of him, he almost fainted as his bowels let go of their own accord. The smell was terrible.

"I can see a change of diet is in order right now," Knox observed, as the boy continued to let the enema out. He moved his sample container and then rinsed the suffering boy in warm water from the hose, as he'd made quite a mess.

When Hop Sing was finally done going, he felt weak and sleepy. "I think three or four more should do it," Knox mused, hooking up the enema hose again. Hop Sing came awake at once.

"WHAT?!" He cried, shaking his head, as Knox put him back in the receiving position.

"We repeat the procedure until the expulsion is clean," the doctor explained. "Then you get another shower."

As he put the nozzle back in him, Hop Sing began to cry. He didn't like having that thing up his butt, and the enema mix hurt him inside. The cramps tore at him, and he felt like he was going to be sick. By the time Knox was inserting the nozzle for his fourth enema, the third clean rinse, Hop Sing was crying and begging him stop.

"I never liked them either, when I was boy here," Knox assured him, as he began filling Hop Sing again and massaging his tummy. On impulse, he tickled his ribs. Hop Sing squealed and jerked, but he did smile. Then he opened his eyes.

"You were a boy here?" Hop Sing asked. Knox nodded.

"My aunt and uncle sold me to Ben when I was ten," Knox explained, looking melancholy as he shut off the water. "They didn't want me when my folks died in a bus wreck. They kept me for a month or so, then some friend of my uncle came over one night with some literature. The next day, I was on a plane here."

"My father sold me, too," Hop Sing finally said the words aloud. "I guess being son number-three was why. I 3; I always told him I loved him, every night! I thought he loved me back?" The boy began to cry again as the import of what he'd just said hit him – and hit him hard. His stomach contracted, but it wasn't from the enema. The plug in his butt hurt some, as did the straps he was straining against, but that pain was nothing compared to the pain he felt when he thought about his father.

"You remember this, little buddy," Knox whispered in his ear, unaware that Ben Toeber was hearing every word of it, "No matter how bad you feel, or whatever some client does to you, there's always someone here to listen to you. The hospital is always open, and if I'm not here, ask the computer via your collar to find me. Even when you think nobody on this island cares what happens to you, you remember that there's always one person who does." He then peeled one of his gloves off and put a hand on the boy's cheek, wiping away his tears.

In the Admissions Office, Ben Toeber nodded at his 72" [180 cm] wall-mounted monitor. "He always was a sweet boy, Ronnie was," he said, switching the video to watch some of the off-duty slave boys at play on the beach. They all seemed to be having a good time, splashing about, swimming, running in the hot sand in the bright sun, or just laying there getting even tanner. Only one blond boy with a green collar remained separate from the others, sitting all alone atop a large boulder with his arms around his knees and his chin resting on them. He was staring out across the water, looking lost. "You little wretch," Ben muttered, shaking his head. "What the hell else am I SUPPOSED to do with you? Didn't Matti have that talk with you yet?! Damn!"

Fortunately for Hop Sing, his last rinse came out clear. Knox unstrapped him, but Hop Sing's legs were too weak to hold him. Expecting it, Knox dried him off and smeared some lidocaine cream on the boy's anus. He then hoisted him like a sack of potatoes, and carried him out and across the hall. Hop Sing didn't struggle. He was too exhausted. He just laid his head on Knox's shoulder and cried quietly.

The room across the hall was a small bedroom with no window, Hop Sing realized. Knox gently lowered him onto the bed, adjusted the pillow, then secured the boy's hands and feet in padded cuffs. He then put a diaper on him, which should have mortified any boy Hop Sing's age; Hop Sing was too exhausted to care, though. "Just to be safe," he assured him, "I want you to take a nap. I'll come get you after while, and don't worry, I'll lock the door, OK?"

"OK," Hop Sing managed, as Knox covered and tucked him in. Then he kissed his cheek, turned out the lights, and left, locking the door.

The room was warm, pitch dark, and it smelled like flowers. The bed was soft, and the pillow form-fit to the boy's head. It felt so good that he thought that he'd never want to get back up. He yawned, and thought he heard faint music playing.

Hop Sing was asleep before Knox even made it to his lab to start testing the samples. He knew that Hop Sing would sleep through the night, given the sedatives that had been in the last enema.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," someone was saying. Hop Sing realized, as he opened his eyes, that someone was shaking him. He slowly focused, rubbed his eyes, and sat up. When he saw Dr. Ronnie Knox, he jerked and pulled his blanket back up as he realized where he was at. "No enemas today, I promise," the doctor assured him, as the boy looked around the small bedroom. He didn't even remember BEING put to bed. Then he smelled something. The doctor offered him what looked like a steaming mug of rich cocoa. Realizing that he was very hungry, Hop Sing took it and drank it down.

"That's all you get for now, we have a few more tests to do," the doctor told him, "You feel OK? You slept all night, you know."

"Really?" The boy wondered.

"You were pretty worn out," Knox nodded.

"I gotta pee!" Hop Sing announced, looking for the bathroom.

"Don't," Knox interrupted him, leading him back to the exam room. Hop Sing got up on the center table this time, holding his penis and fidgeting. "Should I have left the diaper on?" Knox asked, which got him a puzzled looked. Obviously, the boy didn't remember it. "What we're going to do now is a bladder integrity test," he informed him, leaning him back and strapping him down again. Hop Sing sighed heavily.

"Another pee test, sir?"

"Sort of," Knox agreed, putting his gloves on and pulling open a drawer under the table. "I have to scan your bladder while it's full, but I also need some more urine to test, and a little more blood, too. Then you can get those shots out of the way. Do you know what a catheter is?"

"No? But I bet I won't like it! 3; sir 3;," he added.

"Very few boys do," Knox nodded, pulling out a long tube that looked to Hop Sing like a clear garden hose. If he had to pee, he just KNEW where that tube was going to go! "This is a special catheter. It goes up your urethra – pee hole – and into your bladder. It drains the pee out of you into a bottle. Then I'll rinse your bladder out, refill it, and scan it while the tube is clamped. OK?"

"Do we have to?" Hop Sing complained. "Will it FIT?"

"It will, and we do," Knox agreed, lubing up the tube and placing it in a sterile tray. He then took the boy's stiffening penis in his gloved hand and injected the tip with something. Hop Sing's penis began to tingle inside, as it spread up inside him. "That's to numb it a little. Some of the boys here, well, they have bladder control problems 3; after their surgery," Knox conceded.

"You mean after they get their dicks cut off?" Hop asked in a dismal tone.

Knox nodded again. "Of course, some clients like that, but that's not a story for now," he said, waiting patiently for the boy's erection to subside. "Hop, have you ever masturbated? Jerked off?"

Hop Sing blushed. "No."

"The truth? Remember, the collar can act as a lie detector too." Really, Knox didn't think it could, but they'd told him that same story about his collar when he'd been a boy and he'd believed it. Hop Sing seemed to believe it too, by the look on his face and the way he touched his collar, as if he expected it to shock him, bite him, or something – were he to lie.

"No, sir, really. I 3; I play with it, when it's hard, and it feels good, but all I do is feel like I have to pee, so I stop. Why?" The boy asked, sounding worried.

"So, you've never shot anything out, you know 3; cum?" Knox asked, wondering that the boy had never even jerked off for the first time yet, to climax, at least.

"No!" Hop Sing shook his head. He knew what that was all about, even if he couldn't do it yet. He'd seen his eldest brother do it before, stroking his (relatively) large dick until he shot white cream all over, sometimes all the way off the bed and across the floor. Hop Sing knew that it contained sperm, which was what made babies if you 'did it' with a girl. After all, they'd had 'the film' at school already, so the boy wasn't totally ignorant. Few boys his age were.

"You've never, ever masturbated, cum, or shot?"

Hop Sing shook his head. "Sir, I really wanna pee!" Hop Sing reminded him. Knox nodded and gently inserted the tip of the catheter into the boy's numbed penis, which had gone soft. He slid it on up until it touched the bladder sphincter. Hop Sing gasped.

"OK, pee!" Knox told him, and Hop Sing did that. He yelped as the catheter slid on into his bladder and Knox inflated the balloon, securing it. The bottle filled up fast, then the flow stopped.

"I still feel like I'm going!" Hop Sing wondered, staring at the tube coming out of his penis.

"That's because the muscles you use to hold it are being held open inside of you, you have no bladder control now," Knox told him. "Now, I'm going to fill you with a sterilizing rinse, which will tingle, but won't hurt." He then attached a bag of saline mix to another valve of the catheter and hung the bag, opening a clamp. Hop Sing felt warm inside as his bladder filled.

"I'm gonna bust!" He almost panicked, and Knox released the valve. Fizzing solution filled the new bottle, and he discarded it. He then hung another bag, filling the boy's bladder again.

"This one you have to hold until I'm done scanning," the doctor told him, as the bag emptied. Hop Sing felt like he'd never had to pee so bad in his life. He felt like he was peeing. He felt like he had to pee, but couldn't. But he also felt like he was peeing and couldn't stop. It was very confusing as he lay there while the doctor scanned him with one of those things that looked like what they'd used on his mom when she'd been pregnant with his little brother the last time. Finally, his bladder began to ache.

"Almost done," Knox assured him.

"But I gotta pee so bad!" the boy protested, "Please?!" he begged.

"Just a bit longer," Knox told him, putting up the scanner and studying the results, leaving Hop Sing restrained and miserable.

"Sir?!" He asked again, after the feelings inside of him became unbearable.

Finally, the doctor let him up detached the bottle, but didn't pull the catheter. He led him to the shower again, where he finally released the balloon that was inside the boy's bladder. The catheter slid out, and Hop Sing almost fainted in relief as his stream arced up and splashed the wall as he stood there trembling. "Take a shower, then I'll examine you all over again. Then we can do the prostate and stress tests," Knox advised him. "You weren't busy for today, were you?" Hop Sing shook his head.

The prostate test was something that Hop Sing DID NOT enjoy. It involved Dr. Knox lubing up his anus again, and sliding his finger up inside and wiggling it around. Even though he'd just peed, Hop Sing felt like he was going to pee again. "If you do, just do it," Knox told him, "Don't hold back." The whole time, Hop Sing crouched there on his knees on the table with a pounding erection and a red face. Knox wasn't really hurting him, but the strange sensations were something that the boy didn't understand at all. Finally, when he could stand it no longer, he cried out, "Please stop!"

But Knox didn't stop. He kept massaging that spot deep inside of Hop Sing that made him tremble all over. It began to burn deep inside of him, and his tremors grew stronger. It felt like his head was getting light, and his anus hotter and hotter. Finally, and feeling ashamed of himself, he clenched his eyes shut and felt something leaking out of his penis. He was sure he'd just peed all over the table as his body spasmed several times. He took a deep breath, thinking he might pass out.

"Excellent, Hop! This is a really good sign," Knox congratulated him, having stuck a specimen dish under the boy's penis to capture a small amount of clear fluid. He then squeezed the softening member, getting another good sized drop out of it. "That's not pee, it's prostate juice, or what we call 'ejaculate matter'. All that shivering and crying and panting you just did was your first prostatic orgasm. Did it feel good?"

"No, sir," Hop Sing grumbled, "Is it over?" He whined, looking very ashamed and uncomfortable.

"It's over. We'll just test that for sperm content, chemical makeup, etcetera," Knox said, applying the lidocaine cream to the boy's sore anus. Pretty soon, he thought, and he won't need or want that.

"Sperm?" Hop Sing asked.

"That stuff in the dish came out of your balls, and out of your prostate. That's a gland inside you, like a ring of muscle around your bladder neck. It's what makes boys shoot, you know?"

Hop Sing looked confused. "But I didn't shoot, not like my brother?"

"No, I just squeezed all the juice out of it manually. Like I said, it's a good sign that you had all those shakes and groans and dizzy feelings. Like I said, you had an orgasm. Some of the boys here can't do that."

"Why not?" Hop Sing asked, still not understanding it.

"Later," Knox shook his head, cleaning the boy up so that he could attach wireless electrodes to his body. "Now you just go lay down over there, so I can monitor your post-climax vitals."

They spent the rest of the day with Hop Sing hooked up to sensors, leads, an oxygen mask, and all sorts of other things. Fortunately for the boy, Knox took his temperature with an ear thermometer! He was also made to drink more water, and he was only allowed to pee when he had to beg for it. Knox told him it was to test his continence. Hop Sing said he already knew right from wrong. Knox laughed and explained that he had to know how well the boy's bladder worked, or if he'd have to wear diapers. The boy was relieved to pass the test, even though Knox once refused to let him pee and made him have an accident so that he could time it and measure the volume. Walking around naked was bad enough, Hop Sing thought; walking around in a diaper would just be 'the end', as he put it.

Hop Sing also ran on a treadmill, lifted weights, did calisthenics, and then just sat and watched TV – all the while being monitored for vital signs, oxygen consumption, and all sorts of other things. By the time noon came, the boy was ravenous and very cranky about having been given so many shots when they were almost done.

"I think you're healthy," Knox informed the humiliated boy.

"What was all that, sir?" He asked, as Knox led him to the cafeteria for lunch.

"One shot was boosters, tetanus and such, and vaccinations. The usual shots. One of them was a very powerful anti-androgenic drug, to keep your body from producing male hormones. One was a beginning dose of anti-depressants, a 'happy shot', you can call it. And one of them was chock full of a cocktail of drugs to make you 3; well 3; horny, for lack of a better word. Aphrodisiacs, they're called." Hop Sing gaped at him.

"Why gimme a 'horny shot' if they're gonna just cut if off later?" The boy asked, confused, "That's mean!" He then noticed that he was hard again and tried to hide it.

"You're not allowed to touch your genitals, Hop," Knox reminded him. "If you do, you'll be punished, that is, unless you're with a trainer who tells you to. Someone else will explain all that, but if you can't keep your hands off of yourself, we'll have to put a chastity cage on your genitals so you CAN'T touch them, alright?"

"So if I get hard and I'm horny, I can't DO nothin' about it?" Hop Sing asked in wonder.

"It's called frustration," Knox informed him.

"Sir," Hop Sing then asked, remembering something from the day before, "Didn't you tell me you used to be a boy here?"

"You were very tired, I'm surprised you remember," Knox smiled at him, patting his head, "Yes I was, and yes I did. Why?"

"So they gave you them shots too?"

Knox nodded.

"And you used to 3; you had to 3; let men DO things to you? Did they cut YOURS off too?" Hop Sing asked hurriedly. Then he looked away, knowing he was out of line and looking like he expected to be punished.

Knox didn't seem to mind, though, and reassured him by holding his hand. Hop Sing smiled up at him, but it was a very weak smile. I hope you've got some more of those left in you, boy, he worried to himself. He drew him a bit closer. "Just remember, Hop, you're a slave under contract. It's OK to be friendly with me, you have my permission. People like Ben though, and the clients, get your utmost respect and manners. They can punish you for being insolent, so be more careful."

"Yes, sir," Hop Sing agreed.

"But to answer your questions, yes they did, and no, they only removed by balls and sac. I was one of those rare boys who were set aside for clients that liked castrated little boys with limp penises. What you get cut off, Hop, depends on how you're booked, after you're trained, and who all bids on you. But your trainer, once you get one, will explain all that to you later. I thought you wanted lunch?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Can we 3; can we 3; eat somewhere else?" Hop Sing asked, hearing the noise coming from the cafeteria ahead.

"No, you have to get used to being naked in public. Besides, every other boy in there is naked, too," Knox assured him. Hop Sing nodded as his appetite won out over his modesty.

They arrived in the cafeteria, which was full of (mostly neutered) rowdy, naked boys of all races. The air smelled of food – and good food, at that. It wasn't the smell of school cafeteria food, and Hop Sing's mouth watered. After all, he'd not been fed since before his enema session. All concerns about being naked and/or erect left his head at once. Then someone noticed the doctor bringing him in.

"New gold-boy!" Somebody yelled, as Hop Sing found himself, standing there with an erection and stark naked, in front of at least a hundred boys in collars of varying colors all trying to greet him at once.

Only one smaller boy in a green collar sat all alone at the far end of the room, rubbing a hand over his blond hair and just picking at his food. He was a beautiful boy, probably the most beautiful in the room. But there was something, almost like a black cloud hovering over his head (so to speak) that was repulsive. One could sense it. Perhaps that was why no one wanted to sit with him.

Knox excused himself while Hop Sing was swept away with the exuberant crowd to get his lunch and – hopefully – make some new friends to ease his situation.

"Sander, you know the rules, you have to eat," Knox told the boy, who'd obviously been losing weight.

Sander didn't even look up at him. "Yes, sir," he said automatically.

Knox put his hands on the boy's shoulders. "It's fresh lemon-peppered butterfly shrimp," Knox pointed out, sniffing. "And baked red potato with yellow squash and sour cream and 3; why there's enough calories on this plate to choke a mule! How can you NOT eat that? You know the rules, if you don't eat, I'll have to force-feed you."

"Yes, sir," the boy replied automatically, yet again.

"Someone hurt you, a client?" Knox asked, concerned, "Someone get rough?" He sat down across from Sander, but the boy ignored him.

While he knew that Sander had been having problems recently, he still didn't know why. The boy hadn't come to see him, and getting information, the island psychologist had told him, was like pulling eye teeth. 'Clam-boy', the shrink had nicknamed Sander, when he'd come to warn Knox that the boy was off his feed and generally being a little asshole.

"No, sir," Sander said, sounding like a robot as he shoved his plate away.

"Well, if you're not going to eat that, I am," Knox informed him, taking Sander's plate. "Then you can come to my office where I WILL feed you out of a tube. You'll be punished if you stray from your diet plan, you know. At least drink your milk, some cow went to a lot of trouble for that, you know."

"Yes, sir," Sander replied in the same monotone, but he didn't drink his milk.

Knox looked up between bites to see Hop Sing shoveling food into his mouth and trying to talk at the same time. He was surrounded by a group of boys, most of them in green and yellow collars, but a few red ones, and seemed to be getting on well. Given the mix of boys, at least from the chest up as they sat, Hop Sing blended in almost perfectly. Knox noted that he did look a bit nervous, though.

"So much for introduction into the population," Knox mumbled.

"Sir?" Sander asked, in that same flat voice, his face blank.

"Never mind," Knox sighed.

Chapter 4
Hop Sing Learns

"Things were getting crowded, so we remodeled one of the good client hotel wings into dorms for the boys! After dinner, I'll assign you a room with some other boys, you can make friends, and get a good night's sleep and be ready for tomorrow, OK?" Ben asked.

"Yes, sir," Hop Sing replied. He was hot and tired and hungry from his busy day. He'd been everywhere, he thought, but the thought of it all confused him. He was certainly glad that his collar would talk to him, even though it said some pretty odd things sometimes. But it did keep him from getting lost. That he liked. The island was big.

They had dinner, and it was two slightly older boys by the name of Timmy and Chris that sat with Hop Sing. They both wore green collars. Timmy, Hop Sing noticed, was very hyper. Chris was quite cynical, but both of them seemed friendly. As he'd been dropped off in the cafeteria by Ben, then left, Hop Sing was glad of their company. He was still too afraid to introduce himself to anyone new, although some of the boys he'd already met greeted him but moved on with their own peer groups.

"Timmy, you seen Sander?" Chris was asking.

"Yeah, he said something about going to Matti's place tonight, to talk," Timmy replied.

"Good, maybe he won't be such a shithead if Matti takes him back," Chris rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, who'd want Sander for a rommie, the way he is now?" Timmy asked, "And this Hop Sing kid, some new boy, must be Chinese," Timmy mused. Then he dropped his fork. "Hey! You're Hop Sing!"

"Airhead," Chris sighed. Hop Sing laughed.

"That means you're our new roomie!" Timmy said happily, "We get to break in the new boy!"

"All the new boys get put in with older boys, dumbass," Chris reminded him. Then he turned to Hop Sing. "You'll like our new rooms," he promised, "They put us in the old client hotel wing, and man! Big rooms, four beds, a huge bath, and we're up high! We even have a balcony! You can see forever off it!"

"Sounds nice," Hop Sing agreed, thinking of home. This night, and for the next two years, he wouldn't be sleeping in his bed, in his room. He'd be in a new room with these two boys and some other boy they didn't really like.

They finished dinner and headed out, collecting their sandals at the door. The pavement was still hot, and the sunset spectacular as they crossed the grounds to the new dormitory. The security guards here and there always waved to them. As they walked in, Hop Sing was amazed at the huge room with a fish pond and full size trees growing in the middle like an oasis. It was brightly lit, and the staircases grand. "Oh, heck, this is just the lobby!" Chris laughed, seeing the look on his new friend's face. Hop Sing was even more impressed that they had their own elevator!

"Of course, each room is a dorm, with the adjacent room linked as a play room," Chris told him. "All the other rooms are occupied, some of the older boys even have their own suites! Imagine it! Your own hotel room?"

"But not us, we're too young," Timmy added.

"I 3; I wouldn't want my own room, it's scary," Hop Sing admitted.

"I was scared, too," Timmy consoled him, putting his arm around his shoulders. "So, you know when, or if, or even what, you're gonna get cut off yet?"

Chris smacked his arm.

"Ouch!" Timmy yelped, "I was just askin'?"

"Don't make fun 'cause he's intact still," Chris told him, as they emerged on a high floor.

They were met at the door by tall, slim dark boy who was going down. He was also a nullo, with a green collar that contrasted his dark skin. He got in as they got out, and he patted Hop Sing's head. "Rough?" He asked, as the door slid shut and he vanished.

"Everyone pats my head," Hop Sing commented, as Chris showed them their room. He pressed his hand to the panel on the door, told it his name, and then had Hop Sing do the same. The computer welcomed them home and wished them a nice evening.

The room was large. There were four beds on the far end, near the entrance to the bathroom. Two beds along one wall, close together, and two opposite. There was also a great deal of furniture, and sure enough, a balcony. Hop Sing looked around and then they all went outside. "We got a fridge, too," Chris told him, "But there's not much in it but bottled water, some health food snacks, and ice."

"Yeah, damn diet control," Timmy complained. "The only time you get sweets is from clients, or if Ben's being generous," he said.

"You wanna be a 'fat-boy'?" Chris asked.

"No!" Timmy replied, making a face. Hop Sing watched their playful banter all evening as they played games, watched a movie, played some more games, and got on the computer. They were looking up a webpage about eunuchs in history when the voice of the main computer called them.

"Dorm 10-R2," it called, "Bed check!"

"Chris!" Chris tapped his collar.

"Timmy," Timmy did the same.

"Hop Sing?" Hop Sing mimicked them, unsure of what to do.

"Sander?"

No answer.

"Sander is with Matti, the trainer," Chris said.

"Unauthorized visit," the computer replied, "Notifying Mr. Toeber now!" Then they all heard the lock clang shut on their door.

"Locked in, safe and sound," Timmy pointed out.

"These collars know everything!" Hop Sing exclaimed, "Do we take them off when we go to bed?"

"No, they never come off unless Ben changes them," Timmy said. "You can't take it off, and it won't break. That collar is like 3; I dunno 3; something for a prison, I think!"

"I like it, I feel safe with it on," Hop Sing offered.

"You are safe, Hop Sing," the collar replied.

Timmy and Chris gaped at him. "It's never talked back like that before!" Timmy said in wonder.

"Yeah, in a few days, you don't even know it's there," Chris agreed, "and it's not like it clashes with your wardrobe!"

They all laughed at that, and for the moment, they were just a group of happy boys – and not imprisoned sex slaves. Of course, for boys like Chris and Timmy, the line between the two was very faint. For Hop Sing, it was very dark, however. More than anything, he just wanted to home. He wanted his mommy to tuck him in that night, even have his scared little brother come in to sleep with him.

But that wasn't going to happen. Not for at least two years.

About an hour later, the computer called for "lights out" and the boys hurriedly washed up and got into bed. The room began to cool, and they covered up. One bed remained empty – Sander's.

"Why's it getting cold?" Hop Sing asked.

"Because you sleep better in a cool room under a warm blanket," Chris explained. "And the AC doesn't work so hard all day, when it's hot, if it chills the building all night."

"It's better if you sleep WITH someone, too," Timmy commented.

"Someone who don't pee the bed!" Chris laughed.

"I don't DO that anymore!" Timmy countered. "Not since a month after they cut my dick off and took the catheter out! I couldn't help it!"

"I just don't get it," Hop Sing said sadly, getting into the bed that Chris showed him. It was next to his. "WHY do they wanna cut my boy parts off?"

"Because that's what they do," Timmy answered. "That's what the clients want."

"But 3; but why?" Hop Sing repeated, "I mean, if they do, then you can't get married and have kids. You can't make babies, and have sex like parents do. And you can't 3; can't 3;,"

"Whack off?" Chris interrupted him.

"My oldest brother used to do that," Hop Sing agreed. "I know what it is, but I'll never get to do it now."

"They haven't cut yours off yet," Timmy supplied, "Why don't you try it now?"

"The doctor told me not to, and I might get in trouble," Hop Sing replied. "He said if I did, they'd put a charity cage on me!"

"'Chastity cage'," Chris laughed, correcting him, "I've seen intact boys wearing those. Man," he mused, "that's gotta just suck, having a dick and being horny, and having it all locked up so you can't even touch it! It'd be worse than having it cut off!"

"How would they find out?" Timmy asked, "I mean if Hop Sing jacked it, or one of us sucked him off?"

"They found out about the pillow fight when we made that big feather mess," Chris reminded him. "I think sometimes, the rooms are bugged. That or somebody's a rat."

"I'm glad they cut mine off when they did," Timmy said, "It wasn't that big anyway, and how do you even walk with all that big stuff hanging between your legs? I remember I used to get hit in the balls, and it hurt so bad! I'm glad that'll never happen again!"

"But what if 'I' wanna have kids when I grow up?" Hop Sing asked, "It's not fair!"

"When you're a slave, sometimes things ain't fair," Chris reminded him. "And they don't do it to be mean. They do it more 3; for 3; you, I think, more than it's done TO you. Get it?"

"No."

Chris sighed. "Hop, when they do you, the doctor will fix you up so good, and when you're healed, you'll look just like us. It'll be over before you know it, and then you'll get used to it. You'll like it, trust me."

Hop Sing sniffled. It was clear that he was close to tears. "But what if I don't want to? What if I wanna jack off, or have a girlfriend like my brother, or have kids?"

"YOU signed the contract, buddy," Timmy reminded him, "You're a slave. Slave boys don't get to do that."

"I guess 3;," Hop Sing thought for a moment, "I guess if you never have sex, you don't miss it, since you never got it."

Timmy and Chris both laughed. In fact, they laughed so hard that Timmy got the hiccoughs.

"Oh, you get plenty of sex!" Chris disagreed. "You get sex every day, sometimes a'lotta times a day! And when you don't get sex, you get horny, and get all jumpy, and cranky, and hell! I go a couple days, and I'm ready to fuck anything!"

"How?" Hop Sing asked, his naivety finally revealing itself. It was such a surprise thing to hear, that it cured Timmy's hiccoughs.

"What?!" Timmy squeaked.

"How do you have sex if they cut it all off?" Hop Sing asked innocently. "How do you get horny if they cut your balls off? And if you don't have a penis, you can't have sex?"

"Timmy," Chris said in a low tone, full of wonder and disbelief, "Hop doesn't know!"

"Know what?" Timmy asked.

"He doesn't KNOW, you idiot! They didn't tell him 3; you know 3; about SEX!!" Chris paused. "Jesus, man, you signed the contract and you don't KNOW? Ben didn't tell you? You didn't ask?"

"Ask?" Hop Sing asked again. "I had to sign it. My family was in danger."

Chris snorted. "Family," he groused, "Who needs it?"

"How can you NOT know?" Timmy cut in, "Hop, what do you THINK you're gonna do here? WHY do you think men want to come here and be with boys 3; eunuchs 3; like us?"

"Because they like neutral boys?" Hop Sing guessed.

Chris and Timmy laughed again. "'Neutered'," Chris corrected him again. Hop Sing didn't think it was funny.

"Oh, they LIKE us, alright!" Chris chuckled, "That's why we get paid so much to be with them. Damn, buddy, they really didn't tell you?"

"All Ben said was I had to work here for two years, go to school, and entertain the clients," Hop Sing recited, "Then when I go home, I'll be rich enough so that my family will be OK forever."

"Standard contract," Timmy agreed, "Chris, you wanna be the one to break it to him?"

"Hop," Chris said gently, "tomorrow morning, we're gonna have to educate you. Me and Timmy will have to work, anyway, so we'll ask if you can hang out with us until we get booked. Then you'll see."

"What's 'booked' mean?"

"When a client wants to be with us," Timmy explained.

"OK," Hop Sing agreed. "But I saw the film in school. I'm not dumb! I know what sex is!"

"You sure you don't want your dick sucked before they cut it off?" Timmy asked. Chris threw a pillow at him. Timmy laughed.

"No!" Hop Sing replied, "Boys shouldn't do that!"

"Yes, they should," the computer interrupted them, "BOYS! Go to sleep, now!"

"Ohhh, boyyy," Chris sighed, as the computer turned off their lights.

Hop Sing Sees a Show

"WHY are you doing that?" Hop Sing asked, as Timmy's tummy expanded.

"We have to do it every morning," Chris explained, "so you're clean for the day. It's already mixed, soap and everything, you just put the hose in and turn it on." He offered the other hose to Hop Sing.

"I don't want to," Hop Sing declared, as he headed for the toilet. "What's THIS?!" he demanded, pointing at the pipe in the bowl.

"That's a bidet," Chris told him, "It washes your butt so you don't have to rub it with toilet paper. It sprays you off."

Hop Sing thought that was a good idea. Bathing with other boys didn't bother him, as he often shared a bath with his brothers, but the idea of 'doing his morning business' in the same room bothered him. Timmy and Chris were too busy with their enemas to notice him, though, until he went. Timmy laughed at the sound.

"I haven't had a solid bowel movement since I got here," he chuckled. Fortunately, there were also two toilets in the room, and Timmy had to go as the solutions went to work on his bowels.

"You know, you'll HAVE to do this, too, Hop," Chris told him, "After you start training. Every day, for two years. Then you'll probably want to do a smaller one at night, just to keep clean, and before each new client."

"Why?" Hop Sing asked again, examining the nozzle with a perplexed look. "I don't like having these things up my butt!"

"Man, he's got a lot to learn," Timmy commented, as he showered off and tried to do something with his haystack of hair. "I wish they'd let me cut it. Hop?" He asked, "Can I touch your head?"

Hop Sing said he could, and Timmy ran his hand over the black stubble. "I like being bald," Hop Sing told him.

"I bet a lot of guests will like you, too," Chris told him, as he went for the hair gel and started spiking his. He then began acting as if he were getting dressed in front of the full-length mirror. Timmy got to giggling again. "NOT dressed up and everywhere to go?" Chris joked. Hop Sing didn't get it. The thought of being kept naked all the time still bothered him, and he was worried that he might stare at someone and make them mad at him.

After all, it was hard to NOT stare at all the nullo'd boys, they looked so strange.

They got a surprise when they arrived at breakfast. Ben Toeber had made a rare appearance in the boys' cafeteria, where he was chatting with the young men who were serving food to the line. Chris noticed him at once.

"Ben!" He cried, "What'r YOU doing here?"

"Slumming," Ben joked, as Chris jumped him. Ever one of his favorite boys, Ben caught him and hefted him up, squeezing him in a crushing hug. He then kissed him, deeply, on the mouth. Several of the boys made cat-calls and clapped. "Are you busy today, Master Christopher?" Ben asked him. Hop Sing just looked on, amazed.

"I only had one job yesterday," Chris complained. "If I don't get booked today, Hop Sing won't know what to do? Sir, can he come and watch us work?"

"Well, I think we'll find someone to show him, yes," Ben said, putting Chris down and patting Hop Sing's head. "That's such a nice, round head," he commented. "What say we make it all nice and smooth later?" He then kissed Hop Sing on top of the head. He was just the right height.

Hop Sing nodded dumbly. For someone who made the boys get their boy parts cut off, and said they were his slaves, Ben sure was being nice to all of them. The boys followed him around like a pack of puppies, and Ben had no shortage of hugs and kisses for anyone who wanted it.

"He doesn't know, Ben!" Chris whispered to the man, once they'd all sat down, "Hop doesn't KNOW what to do!"

"I know," Ben smiled, putting his hand in Chris' lap. Chris gasped as Ben's fingers moved over the relocated concentration of nerves in his 'nullo place', as the boys called it.

"I can't eat all this," Hop Sing commented, "Why did they give me so much, sir?"

"Because your collar told the cooks that's what your diet is, when they scanned it," Ben told him. "You're underweight. Now eat!"

"Hi, Ben," someone else said, and the boys looked up to see a rather plump, short, olive-skinned boy. "Can I sit here?"

"Pull up a chair, Pudge," Timmy smiled. "You seen Sander?"

"Nope," Pudge replied, "You lose your roomie?"

"Don't miss him," Chris commented.

"Be nice!" Ben told him. "Sander needs you guys right now, in case you didn't notice."

"Sander's a dick," Pudge commented, which got the boys to laughing.

'Pudge', as Timmy called him, while not obese, was somewhat fat. Even his fingers were plump, and he had small breasts and a belly. He was so plump, that it was impossible to tell if he was a nullo or not. He offered Hop Sing his hand. "Nice to meet you, I'm Freddie, but everybody calls me 'Pudge'," he said. Hop Sing shook his hand.

"Some of the clients like fat boys," Ben informed Hop Sing. "But after we fatten up someone else to take his place, Freddie can have a diet and exercise change and slim back down. We won't make him stay fat forever. It's bad for the heart, and it wouldn't be fair to him."

Hop Sing looked at all the food on his plate distrustfully, but he did eat it all.

When they were finished, they headed outside. As it was summer, classes were off for several weeks during the busy season. Tourists were on vacation from work, and business was good. Ben led them all to the pool, where he reminded them to wait for an hour before getting in the water as he helped rub them down with tanning oil. They were just getting situated in the sunshine when a man walked up to them. Ben seemed delighted.

"Having a good time, Mr. Smith?" Ben greeted him.

He wasn't remarkable in any way, this man. He was carrying a drink and a paper, and wearing a broad billed hat. He also had a glob of white lotion on his nose. He lowered his sunglasses. Hop Sing thought he looked rather goofy.

"Well, I just got here, and 3; and 3; I'm not really sure what to do, Mr. Toeber? There's so much in the literature you sent?"

Ben laughed. The boys snickered. Ben smacked Chris' bottom. "Manners!" But he was still smiling.

"Just ask the boys' collars, that's all you have to do," Ben reminded his guest, "Green ones, that is."

"Pick me! Pick me!" Timmy piped up.

"Manners, you little slut!" Ben mock-yelled at him. Timmy smiled hopefully.

"Plllllleeeeeease?" Timmy whined, giving his best sad-puppy face to the client.

Mr. Smith looked nervous. "Do we go to a room?" He asked.

"No sir!" Timmy answered anxiously, which got him a playful whack to his bottom from Ben. He squealed.

"Uhhh, hello computer?" Mr. Smith asked Timmy's collar. "Is this boy OK?"

"Timmy is hyperactive, which affects his schoolwork," the collar replied in a feminine tone, "Caucasian, nullo. His client rating is 97.4%. Timmy is twelve years old, and prefers public exhibitionism. He is currently available for work."

"97%?" Smith asked.

"Timmy sometimes gets so worked up that he faints after climax," Ben informed Smith, "It annoys some clients." Timmy blushed.

"Oh, isn't that cute?" Smith agreed, leaning down for a closer look at Timmy's perfectly smooth groin. "Can I have him, then?"

"Certainly! Oh, can you do me a favor? Inquire of Hop Sing here?" Ben asked. "He's new and we should test his collar!"

Smith did that, as Hop Sing watched him nervously.

"Hop Sing is a new arrival, untrained, and intact," the collar said, "Note gold collar. No rating as of yet. All sex is forbidden, chaste company only – supervised conversation and cuddling permitted. Masturbation not allowed. He is 11 years old, from Hong Kong. No further data," the collar said.

"Well, I suppose this one is OK," Smith admitted, tentatively reaching for Timmy's hand.

"Awww," Chris whined. "you're such a slut!"

"I know!" Timmy said excitedly. "What shall I call you, sir?" He asked Smith.

"I don't know," Smith admitted, as Timmy led him over to a sunny spot. "Why don't you just stretch out in the chair, Daddy?" Timmy asked him, taking the lead as he'd been trained to when a client was shy. He carefully removed Smith's open flowery shirt and ran his hands over the man's chest. He smiled, tasted his drink, made a face, and then began rummaging in the side pocket of the chair.

All of the lounge chairs at the pool were stocked for action, and Timmy produced a prefilled syringe. "Would you, Daddy?" He asked.

Hop Sing watched, moving closer to Ben in fear, as Smith inserted the syringe into Timmy's bottom and filled him with lubricant. Timmy then began playing with Smith's rising cock, pulling his pants down. Smith's cock grew bigger and bigger. Hop Sing moved behind Ben, peeking around him. He'd never seen anything like it! It was even bigger than his father's cock! Timmy was now masturbating Smith, and the man was enjoying it! Would he be expected to do that too? How COULD he do that? It was just 3; wrong! Men and boys didn't DO that sort of thing! He was just supposed to entertain them, Ben had said!

After a moment, Timmy then took Smith's cock into his mouth!

He wanted to do that to me last night! Hop Sing remembered.

Hop Sing trembled, but Ben steadied him. "This is what you boys do on the island," Ben told him, moving to sit in a chair and take the frightened boy on his lap. "No!" Hop Sing whispered, biting back tears as he watched Smith squirm in ecstasy while Timmy sucked him. It didn't take long before Smith was approaching orgasm. Hop Sing wondered where the man's cock WAS, really, it was so large. He thought that Timmy should surely choke on it! Then Smith orgasmed, shooting his load into Timmy's mouth. The boy swallowed it, continuing to suck him until Smith's lost his erection and sighed.

But Timmy was far from done. He touched Smith all over, calling him 'Daddy' the whole time. He cuddled and kissed him, snuggled with him, and then began telling him all the things he liked to do. Ben held tightly to Hop Sing as Smith grew erect again. "Daddy, will you fuck me? Pleeeeeease?" Timmy begged. "I don't know if I can take that thing, but I promise, I'll try! I really like to try!"

Smith looked just as terrified as Hop Sing did, as Timmy mounted the shy man. He straddled him, placing Smith's cock between his butt cheeks. He then slowly sat down on top of Smith, sliding the huge member up inside himself with a long groan of pleasure. He then began to rock on his knees, moving Smith's cock in and out of himself. Timmy was doing all the work, leaning into it, making sure that Smith's member rubbed at his prostate in just the right place. With the noise that they were making, some onlookers – boys and clients both – gathered around to watch. Timmy seemed to like it.

Hop Sing clutched at Ben, hiding his face in his shoulder. Ben turned his head to make him watch. "That's what you will be trained to do, Hop," he told him. "After you're cut, that's the only way you can receive sexual pleasure. That's your job!"

"No!" Hop Sing whimpered, "Please, sir! Don't make me do that! It'll hurt, like the enema thing!"

"Maybe at first, but your trainer will be easy on you and he'll make sure you learn to like it. Why, after a while, you'll be just like Timmy and Chris! You won't be able to get enough of it!"

Hop Sing didn't believe that for a minute as he watched Timmy in action. The boy's actions grew more frenzied, his movements faster. Smith was touching him, holding him by the ribs, caressing him, as the boy worked his ass up and down on Smith's cock. It only took about ten minutes, and Smith was moaning in pleasure. Timmy was covered in sweat, his face a study in pleasure. It was clear, from his trembling, that he was also enjoying it very much. Hop Sing couldn't understand it, wishing more than anything that he could just go home. The whole thought of taking a man's penis up his butt terrified him, and he couldn't understand at all how Timmy could be liking it so much.

Chris just looked disgusted, as he sat there rubbing his nullo-place.

"Daddy," Timmy was saying, "It's just right! Are you gonna cum? Are you gonna fill me up, Daddy?"

Timmy didn't have to ask twice. Smith groaned loudly as he thrust back at the boy, shooting his spunk deep into the boy's bowels. Timmy then cried out, tossed his head back, and screamed. Smith's eyes went wide as Timmy shook violently, his ass contracting around Smith's member so hard that the man gasped. His small body was wracked in orgasm, and for a moment, Hop Sing thought that he had peed on his client! Only a few drops of clear fluid came from his relocated peehole, though, and Timmy began to cry in pure delight.

Then he went rigid, falling forward.

Smith caught him.

Timmy didn't move.

"Drama queen," Chris muttered.

"Sir! Mr. Toeber, sir! Gods, I think I've killed him!" Smith yelled, not knowing what to do with the unconscious boy on top of him.

Ben laughed so hard that he almost dropped Hop Sing. "No, no!" He laughed, "I told you he sometimes faints! He'll be fine. Just slap his face gently, I mean, pat him hard, that's it, harder 3; talk to him!"

"Timmy?" Smith asked, doing as he was told. "Sir, I'm sorry! It's my first trip here! I didn't mean to break it!"

Several of the onlookers laughed and clapped. Smith looked mortified, but then he realized that that was what they were all there for.

"Oh, good job, buddy, go ahead, break it, it's paid for!" Some other man joked.

Smith finally laughed, trying to revive Timmy. Chris helped by producing some smelling salts from the chair's pocket.

Timmy finally began to come around. His haystack of hair was plastered in sweat, but he'd caught his breath. "Daddy," he whispered, giving Smith a kiss on the cheek. "I love you! Can we do that all day? Please? I wanna do it some more, Daddy!"

Smith smiled at him and kissed him back. There were tears in his eyes.

"I wanna drink of water, Daddy," Timmy begged, "Then can we go swimming? We can do it in the water, you know!"

That was all it took for Smith. As the crowd clapped, he hefted Timmy up and hugged him. He wasn't erect again yet as they headed for the water.

"Well, what did you think, Hop?" Ben asked, but Hop Sing was too stunned to answer. He just stood there with his mouth hanging open in shcck.

"Typical," Chris muttered, shaking his head as Smith began tossing Timmy up and down in the pool. Water splashed everywhere. "He is SUCH a slut," Chris commented, waving his hand in front of Hop Sing's face. Hop Sing didn't even notice it.

"And you're not?" Ben asked.

"Well," Chris wheedled, "Maybe a little bit."

Hop Sing, though, wanted nothing to do with it.

"I think we'd better find you a trainer, boy," Ben told him, "After all, it's your duty. Do well, and you're paid. Do badly, I have to warn you, and you'll be punished. You don't want to be sold to those bad men, do you?"

"No, sir," Hop Sing answered, now fully in tears. Ben picked him up and kissed him. "It'll be OK, I promise," he assured him.

But Hop Sing didn't believe him. After all, his own father had told him he was going on a vacation with him – then he'd sold him to this awful place and left him there.

"Sir?" Hop Sing finally managed, as they walked to Ben's office. Ben held the boy's hand tightly and nodded at him. He smiled at him.

"Hop, I want you to know that when I have a private talk with you, or any boy here, I expect you to be honest and say what you feel. Don't hold back for fear of being punished, OK?"

"Yes, sir," Hop Sing replied, as he kicked his sandals off and they went to Ben's office. It was cooler inside, and the boy shivered. Ben gave him a small blanket and sat him down on a couch. He sat next to him, pulling him close.

"Now, I realize, Hop, that what you just saw was traumatic for you, I mean, scared you?" Hop Sing nodded fervently. "Your father's report said you knew about sex, but just the usual stuff, right?"

At the mention of his father, Hop Sing's eyes went distant. "He 3; he didn't even say goodbye to me," the boy cried. Ben held him until he was past it. "I don't understand, sir," he finally managed.

"Men and women have sex, like you already know about," Ben explained. "But some men like other men. Some like boys. Some women like women?"

"Like being gay?"

"That too," Ben agreed.

"But why do you cut off our boy parts, then? I mean, if you want us to have sex, why cut us?"

"Well, Hop, there are males, there are females, and then there are eunuchs, like Timmy and Chris. They're not male, not really boys. They're a third gender, so that means they can't be gay. Gay means 'same sex', but nullos don't have a real 'sex'. But in a way, they do. Get it?"

"No?"

"You soon will," Ben assured him. "Let me tell you more about why we cut boys like your friends?"

"And me too, pretty soon?"

"Yes, pretty soon," Ben smiled, patting his head.

"But I don't wanna get it cut off! I don't wanna have men put their penises up me like that! It'll hurt, and I'm scared!" Hop Sing almost yelled, pressing himself back into the couch as far as he could.

"Hop Sing, it is your duty. You have NO choice," Ben reminded him. Those words hit the boy hard, just as Ben intended. Sometimes, he knew, it took a firm hand.

"Hop, let me explain. We don't make you boys into nullos 3; eunuchs 3; to be mean to you. We don't do it to you to steal your sexuality, and we don't do it to you with the idea that it makes it impossible for you to have sex. You just saw Timmy have sex. Now, true, after we cut it off, you can't have children. With no balls, you make no sperm for that, and you're not much good to a woman. With no penis, you can't have sex with her, like parents do. But we don't cut you to take AWAY all your sexuality. We cut you to EXPAND your sexuality, to broaden it, so you get to do new things that intact boys never ever know about!"

"I 3; I d-don't get it?" Hop Sing whispered, allowing Ben to hug him again. Ben did not, however, touch the boy's genitals. He did notice that Hop Sing was erect, though.

"Well, when a boy is nullo'd, he can't BE a dominant, aggressive partner. Like Mr. Smith, who is a man, a nullo boy like Timmy can't fuck anyone, because he has no penis anymore. He can't have his penis sucked, like he sucked Mr. Smith's. But he can still hug, kiss, cuddle, and he HAS to do the sucking."

"And he has to GET fucked," Hop Sing interrupted.

"Yes, Hop. Very good! That's what it's all about for nullos! He still has his ass, and up inside him, his prostate. That's how a nullo boy gets his pleasure – by having a man fuck his ass. And since the boys can't just go back to their room and jack off, or can't fuck and suck each other, they HAVE to have a client do it to them. They have to make the clients want them, because if they don't, then they don't get sex. They can't cum, or feel so good without help. Once a boy is cut, he's totally and completely dependent on his sexual partner for his own pleasures. He gets pleasure by being the one who GIVES it. Do you understand?"

"The doctor put his fingers up in me and made me have an organism," Hop Sing replied.

"'Orgasm'," Ben corrected him, "And that's what it's all about. It felt good, didn't it? You liked it?"

Hop Sing looked ashamed. "No, sir. I hated it. It hurt, and it burned. I thought I was peeing all over myself!" Ben looked confused. "I 3; I don't ever wanna feel that way again! My head was all funny, and I thought I was dying!" He declared. "I hated it! Please, sir, don't make me do it?" Hop Sing begged.

   It was Ben's turn to be confused.

"Hop, I'll remind you, you have no choice. I paid your father 1 million CR for you, and I'll be paying you that, in a trust fund, too. That much! Plus, you get commission on your sales. The men pay to use the boys here. Plus, you get tips and gifts. That's money for you and your family, if you chose, that your father cannot touch – ever. And let me remind you, you never HAVE to leave if you do well here."

The boy just stared at him, shaking his bald head. "I wanna go home!" Hop Sing then wailed, throwing himself down on the couch. It was painful to watch as he sobbed, the terror of what he'd just learned being too much for him, "Please send me home! I don't wanna stay here! I want my father! I want mommy!" He cried pitifully, sobbing so hard that Ben could hardly understand him. "Please!" he wailed, as Ben scooped him up and tried to comfort him. He'd seen fits before, plenty of them, but he'd never seen one so 3; bad.

It was probably because most of the boys he got were castoffs. No one wanted them anyway. Only a very few, as in Hop Sing's case, came from loving families that were torn apart by their need for the money. Most of the boys, in fact, had nowhere else to go. They had no viable futures. By taking them, Ben figured, he could do something for them. And at the same time, he could insure that if they were going to be passive sexual partners for men, then they would be doing it in a safe environment where they would at least be cared for. Ben knew, realized long ago, that there was nothing that he could do to stop the practice of sex with minors. It was going to happen; it had been happening for ages untold. But he did realize that he could insure their safety, and make money for himself and them as well. In doing so, he really thought that he was doing something good.

But the proof to the contrary lay there before him, in the hysterical form of Hop Sing – a boy that was there because of his father's stupidity – and not from his lack of love or family ties.

Ben scooped him up again and held him, rubbing his back, and assuring him that he'd be OK. Hop Sing only mumbled "no" over and over and cried. Finally, Ben tapped the boy's collar. "Ronnie, come to my office fast. It's an emergency with the new boy. Bring a tranquilizer!" He added, as Hop Sing began to hyperventilate and go into a panic attack.

"Do I have time to situate the one I've already got?" Dr. Knox asked.

"Who?" Ben asked.

"Sander," Knox replied. "Meet me halfway?"

"Got it," Ben agreed, as he ran from the building with Hop Sing in his arms.

Sander

The boy they'd brought in, Sander saw, was a yellow-collar. That meant that he was untrained and hadn't had to have sex with anyone yet, or was just being trained to do so. Sander envied him. He hated having sex. He hated being a nullo. He'd lost everything that had been his reasons for becoming one in the first place – first his father, and then Matti. He'd also thought he had real friends, but they'd betrayed him too. Matti had fucked them. And when Matti had to train a new boy, he loved that boy, fucked him, and called it 'work'. Men with genitals were lying shits, Sander thought. He hated them all. Especially Ben Toeber, who was now standing over his bed and clucking at him.

"So it's come to this, has it?" Ben asked, patting Sander's hand. If the boy could have moved it, he would have. He hated it when Ben touched him now.

"Yes, sir," Sander said automatically.

"Do you know how much money you've lost me in the last week alone?" Ben asked.

"$350k-CR?" Sander guessed.

"Genius," Ben sighed, as Dr. Knox checked over Hop Sing. He tucked him in and kissed his cheek.

"He'll be OK when he wakes up tonight. Then he can eat, and we'll sedate him again and try him again tomorrow?" Knox stated.

"Good," Ben nodded. "I'll schedule him a trainer, too. Let him make a friend and have some fun." Then he turned back to Sander. "Boy, what does it take to get through to you? Dammit! You've got a home, a future, all of us, a family here! What do you want? What do you NEED?" Ben almost begged of him.

Sander thought he sounded sincere, but he didn't believe him. Matti had sounded sincere, too, and then he'd started talking about training a new boy. Ben was liar, he knew.

"I need 3; I need 3; someone," Sander whispered, so that Ben bent closer to hear.

"Who, for God's sake?" Ben asked, "Name him! I'll go get him!"

"But he doesn't want me," Sander replied, his eyes filling, "He said he did, but he lied. I 3; I need someone to love me!" Sander then burst into tears, and for just a second, he looked like the little boy that Ben remembered buying. The boy Ben had fallen in love with. "Nobody loves me anymore! All they wanna do is fuck me! I wish I was dead!" Sander yelled, struggling weakly in his restraints. "Ben, why doesn't ANYONE love me?" Knox then injected his IV with something, and Sander's eyes closed. His breathing leveled, and he fell asleep.

"Matti, damn him! I'll cut his whole HEAD off!" Ben snapped.

"Matti, his trainer?" Knox asked.

"I had Matti train him, and I've never seen a happier boy, Ronnie. Sander was so in demand when he was trained, that he couldn't keep up! Everyone wanted him. He was making more than any boy in our history, then he just stopped! I mean, he worked, but everyone said he was like fucking a robot! No emotion, no love 3; you know we have give the clients the illusion of love?"

"But Sander doesn't feel loved, so how can he love back?" Knox asked. "He didn't have much love from his daddy, you know. He found out all he got was lies, his dad never loved him. He just wanted the money. Then his trainer said he loved him, and what happened? He trained someone else and left him?"

"Then the boy's own father came here and spent $50k CR to fuck his own nullo'd son," Ben groused. "How could I have been so damn dumb to allow it?" Ben thought for a while, as Knox checked the boys over.

"And now you have Hop Sing, who, as I understand it, WAS loved very much by his family. He's doing this out of duty, is he not? To save his family from the mafia or somesuch? Here he is, torn away from all the love he's ever known, and lying right next to a boy who never had any to start with."

"Matti was supposed to go and talk to Sander the other night," Ben said.

"He did, among other things," Knox assured him. "His rectum shows signs of a good workout."

"So he talked, fucked, and then broke his heart again?" Ben asked.

Just then, the door burst open. It was Timmy with Mr. Smith, and Mr. Smith looked like hell.

"Doctor!" Timmy squeaked, "I think Mr. Smith's having a heart attack! I think I've killed him!" the little nullo cried.

"The fun just never ends!" Knox sighed. "It wasn't like this here when I was a boy, Ben," he added, just as the computer paged Ben.

"Mr. Toeber? Priority call on Line One. Mr. Toeber, nearest white courtesy phone, please!" The computer's voice called.

Ben hung his head in defeat and went for the phone.

"Toeber," he snapped at the phone.

"Ben! John Wong here at HKS3 Securities! How are you?"

Ben froze. As if things weren't bad enough already! Someone kill me now, he thought. "What do YOU want, Wong? The security system's fine. Go away!"

"Ben, I was calling to apologize," Wong offered. "We've got a new diagnostic and upgrade to your system, and well, you know 3; I thought if we could make amends, then I might come and see to it personally? And at 3; ahhh 3; no fee?"

"Fee?" Ben laughed, "Fee? You want me to trade you a day with a boy for it, don't you? You wanna come and beat up another one of my kids? The answer is NO!" Ben yelled at him. "You're not welcome here, Wong!"

"Ben, please! Listen to me! It's more than that! I have to come, and it's not just for sex. You see, Ben, I've been getting help, really. I never meant to hurt that boy, believe me. Besides, there's some new hacker activity out there, and we can't risk running the upgrade via satellite. It's risky; the Net's too unstable. It takes a real person to do it. That, and 3; and 3; Ben," Wong sighed, "You just bought my Godson."

"What?!" Toeber gasped, suddenly looking as bad as Mr. Smith.

"Hop Sing Tsu, the Chinese boy you just bought? He's my Godson, Ben. I didn't know! One day, Tsu was just gone with him, and I found out through the security channels that you got him! Please, Ben," Wong begged, "Please don't make me wait two years to see Hop Sing again! I love him like he was my own. At least give me one of his father's visits? I'll pay for THAT, Ben, I will!"

Wong sounded so pathetic that Ben didn't know what to do. Granted, this was a new one. He'd never bought a boy before, only to have someone showing up to claim him. And Wong didn't really claim him, as in demand a return – he just wanted to see him.

"John, there's a problem with Hop. You see, his father sold him to me and didn't tell him what the island was all about. This morning, Hop got to see one of the nullos in action. He was already messed up from just seeing a nullo, and finding out he was probably going to BE one someday, but seeing the sex put him over the edge. He's in a panic about being cut, and used as a sex slave. He's sedated, resting comfortably, but we've got to get him conditioned and trained right away. I think if you came here and saw him, it would be damaging beyond repair for the boy." Ben explained.

"Yes, you're right," Wong agreed, "Of course. Ben, the boy means the world to me, really. Will you promise to call me when he's well? When you think he can handle it?"

Ben considered it for a long time before answering.

"When he's trained, cut, healed, and working regularly, I'll call you," Toeber agreed. "That's all I can do. In the meantime, the security system can wait. It'll have to. I can't risk Hop with you coming here so soon."

"Ben, it's a deal!" Wong almost cried. "I can't thank you enough! Please, Ben, take good care of him?"

"I always do," Ben replied, hanging up on him.

In his office, John Wong punched another button on his phone, the secure line.

"Yes?" The voice of Lester DelRay asked.

"The Tsu boy is on the island. He's had a nervous collapse. But he's there. The money is in place from his father, and I'm scheduled to go in when the boy is trained and working."

"Has Tsu come back yet?" DelRay asked.

"Yes and no," Wong replied. "He's in town, but he hasn't gone home."

"No matter," DelRay said in an oily tone. "I've waited for Sander this long, I can wait a month or so more. Did you fire Tsu?"

"I didn't have to. The mob convinced him for me, to sell the boy," Wong laughed. "And ol' Ben believed the sobbing Godfather story! I'm as good as on the island."

"I knew he would, his head's as soft as his heart," DelRay laughed, "It would have been easier, though, if Ben hadn't made him leave. I so wanted him to sabotage the security that day! But no matter. Sander will pay for Ben's insolence."

"One thing," Wong told DelRay, "Let's make it a double, shall we?"

"You want the Tsu boy!" DelRay burst into fresh laughter, "By God, Wong! I like you! Of course, once Mr. Tsu crashes the security network, we'll just take them both and party at my place!"

"Right," Wong agreed, as he hung up.

"A month, maybe a bit more," he mused, calling up his secretary. "Ms. Chan? Send Mr. Tsu in. I need to discuss one of his designs, please?"

NEXT PART