Conditioning – Chapters 1-11

Humiliation, ballbusting, mind games, unwilling arousal, kidnapping

Four friends on vacation awake to find themselves in a metal room with their arms tied behind them, and electrified testicle cuffs around the neck of their scrotums, connected to cables that can retract into the walls. The current can be used to stimulate or punish.

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Conditioning

Chapter 1

Four pairs of eyes looked towards the object in the centre of the room with trepidation. Just 12 hours earlier the owners of those eyes had been having the time of their lives during spring break. Four spiked drinks later found the boys awakening in a steel-walled room, staring at the most unlikely object imaginable. The object was a latex vagina on a stand that held it approximately 18 inches off the floor.

The four boys had already gone through a gamut of emotions: bewilderment, the belief that this was all just some kind of frat joke, anger, disbelief, denial, and now, fear.

Each of them woke up lying naked on the floor, with genitals freshly shorn and smooth as an English schoolboy’s bottom. Their arms were secured behind them, wrists shackled closely to the opposite elbows. They were wearing metal collars, and a thick, smooth-edged, metal band encircled each boy’s testicles. The band was tight enough to prevent either testicle from escaping, but not so tight as to cut off the blood flow. Attached to the band was a metal-stranded cable; quarter of an inch thick, and coated in plastic, which passed backwards between each boy’s legs and into a hole in the wall three feet off the floor. Beside each boy was an Arabic squat toilet buried in the floor.

When all four regained consciousness, the cables slowly tightened, forcing the boys to rise to their feet. The cables continued retracting into the wall until each boy stood, with his bottom pressed tightly against the wall, and his hairless balls tugged backwards against the cool metal.

A low current passed through the cables, and the boys felt a tingling in their balls.  Within seconds, each had the hardest erection he’d ever experienced. They squirmed with embarrassment to be hard in front of each other, but there wasn’t enough play in the testicle cables to allow the boys to turn to hide from each other.

… Three hours of continual erections later and all four of the boys’ dicks were drooling rivers of precum. The teenagers twisted and writhed liked little boys desperate to go to the lavatory.

…Six hours later, and the only thing on any of their minds was orgasm.

Then the cable holding Jake loosened. He moved away from the wall, and the cable loosened further. He continued to move and the cable continued to give.

“Can you, can, can you use your teeth to free me?” Stewie panted from the wall to his right.

Jake walked carefully towards Stewie. The cable yanked his balls and pulled him up short whilst he was still two feet away. He tried to walk to Mike, secured on the opposite wall of the 20 foot square room. He walked a foot past the vagina stand, and was pulled up again. The others watched his lack of progress with dismay, but Jake suddenly had eyes only for the stand in the middle of the room. He looked right at Stewie, then left at Dillon, then without a word he dropped into a low crouch with his legs spread wide, and fucked the vagina with animal desperation. It was only three inches deep and his penis poked out of the other side on each downstroke. He came quickly, grunting like a rutting gorilla, and thrusting as though he intended to break the metal stand the vagina was mounted on. As the sperm stopped pumping from his dick, the cable between his legs slowly tightened again, pulling him back to the wall. He allowed himself to be pulled, and the cable stopped retracting when he was still 5 feet from the wall. He sat down, grateful to rest his legs, and the tingling in his balls stopped as the electric current was turned off. His spent cock slowly wilted.

Long before Jake lost the last of his boner, Stewie’s cable released, allowing him to move away from the wall. He looked around at his friends, desperately horny, then he walked up to the vagina and followed the example set by Jake. He crouched, and fucked the soft rubber vagina hard and fast: a little monkey fucking the pack leader’s female before he gets noticed. Just 24 seconds later, he was adding his sperm to the deposit that Jake had left on the metal floor. A few seconds after he stopped thrusting, the cable slowly retracted pulling him back to a sitting position by the wall. He looked across the room at Dillon, sheepish now that his lust was sated. He sat with his back against the wall. Unlike Jake, the current continued in the testicular band, tingling his balls. He raised his knees to hide his still fierce erection, but his tethered balls pressed uncomfortably against the inside of his thighs, so he opened his legs wide, as though deliberately exposing himself to Dillon.

 “Fucking boner!” he offered, vaguely embarrassed that his had remained after ejaculation whilst Jake’s had disappeared. He had no way of knowing that the current in Jake’s band had been turned  off.

Dillon watched him bemused. He was more reserved than the other three, and he gave a sympathetic half smile. Then he felt his cable loosening. He sat on the floor, determined not to put on a show for their captor. 30 seconds later, a voice came through a speaker in the ceiling.

 “Fuck.”

Dillon ignored it, unwilling to degrade himself.

 “Fuck!” the voice said, more determined.

Dillon raised his knees resolutely.

Suddenly the collar around his neck and the cuff around his balls sparked into life, delivering a continuous taser-voltage electric shock. Dillon spasmed into motion with a yelp, and rolled on his back, knees drawn together and the muscles and tendons of his neck standing out like ropes. The voltage in his  balls felt like a white hot vice grip, both stabbing and crushing at the same time; arcing from one testicle to another inside his sack, and travelling along the cords to his stomach. He squirted instantly; unconsciously, as the electricity triggered his ejaculatory response, but there was not even a trace of pleasure in the experience. The current in his neck was less powerful, but it robbed him of the ability to maintain coherent thoughts, and his head was thrown back in torment. His entire consciousness was consumed with the pain between his legs and the thought-robbing short circuit caused by the collar.

After three minutes of pulsating voltage, and three orgasms, the current ceased. The other three boys looked at their sweat and cum drenched friend in horror. Dillon automatically rolled into a foetal ball whilst he tried to regain his composure, but the controller was not interested in allowing him recovery time. The cable between his legs tightened, drawing the boy onto his knees. He groggily rose to his knees as the cable continued to retract, briefly lifting his bottom into the air. Dillon got his feet under him and the cable tightened ever further until it disappeared entirely into the wall, crushing his balls firmly against the wall.

“You fuck, or I make you cum,” the voice said calmly.

Dillon stood, painfully immobilised, knees together, doubled over and sobbing.

Mike waited for his cable to loosen, expecting to have to perform for their captor, and already only too willing in order to achieve release, but it didn’t happen. Instead, he stood, hard, drooling precum in a continuous stream, and closely tethered to the wall as further hours ticked by.

Even before Dillon’s electrocution, he was desperately horny, but two hours later, Mike was writhing against the wall, almost doubled up, and panting. Two hours after that, he was barely coherent.

 “Gotta, gotta, cu…cu…cuuuuuum,” he groaned, as though begging his friends. He’d already tried to turn so that he could rub his dick against the wall, but his balls were too tightly pulled against it to allow him to turn more than 15 degrees. He’d crouched forwards in the hope that he could somehow get his dick down between his thighs in order to hump the crack between his own legs, but even if he extended his belly out as far as it would go, he just couldn’t push his dick down far enough. He even tried to lift a leg over the cord so that he could face the wall, but despite pulling his testicles unbearably tight, there was not still enough room to get his leg over.

Jake and Stewie watched, initially bemused, then sympathetic as it become clear how totally the need to orgasm had overtaken him. In the control room, the controller was laughing to himself, and subscribers all over the world were masturbating to the live feed of the boy’s exploits.

Finally, 12 hours after he had first been forced to an erection, the cable holding Mike started to loosen. The instant he felt it give, Mike moved towards the vagina, so desperate to fuck that he was straining at the cable, pulling his balls back between his own legs like a hockey freshman playing tug.

He moved closer and closer, so desperate for release that he would do anything. Finally he was in range of the fake pussy, and he jammed his dick into it as though his life depended upon it. His hard, drooling helmet popped out of the other side. The pleasure of that first thrust was greater than anything his dick had ever experienced previously.

Then the cable tightened, and he was pulled back away from the rubber pussy.

“No! No stop. Please. Noooooo!”  Mike screamed, as the cable tightened and he was pulled back across the room. He struggled against the cable like a mountaineer leaning into a blizzard, but it was to no avail. It was only when he slipped to his knees, and his balls got a savage yank that he finally accepted the inevitable, and allowed himself to be pulled back to his former standing position. The current switched off, and aided by the pain in his nuts from the fall, Mike’s penis drooped. When he was completely flaccid, the cable relaxed, allowing him to sit. Then the overhead light went out…

Conditioning – Chapter 2 Day 2

The light came on, and Jake, Stewie and Mike were instantly awake. They blinked and looked at each other. Dillon had not managed to sleep. He’d spent the night standing, with his nuts pulled painfully tight against the wall. Now his scrotum looked bruised, and his balls were shiny and tight in his bag. His cable released and he was finally permitted to drop to his knees. He sagged, exhausted and in pain.

The door to the metal room opened and a male dressed in black and wearing a black balaclava entered carrying four trays of food. In front of Stewie, Mike and Dillon, he placed a tray containing cereal, sandwiches, fruit and plastic beakers of water. In front of Jake, he placed a bowl of chilli, bread and a beaker of milk. As he placed the meals, the boys jabbered at him non-stop, trying to get information, and begging for their freedom. The person ignored them utterly and left the room.

The boys looked at the food.

“Do you think it’s safe to eat?” Mike asked.

“If they wanted to kill us, they could do it any time,” Dillion said. “They’re fucking with us. No point in killing their toys.”

He looked pained. His balls were dark, and now that he was freed from the wall, they had visibly swollen, like two small dark plums.

“Good point. I’m going to risk it,” Mike said.

He moved from a sitting position, up onto his knees. Like his companions, Mike’s arms were tied behind his back, each wrist secured next to the opposite elbow. Spreading his knees, and carefully balancing his weight, he leaned forwards and started slurping at the cereal as a dog would eat. The others watched, then followed suit. Jake’s chilli was very spicy. He had to keep eating bread and drinking from the beaker of milk.

“Why do I get chilli for breakfast?” he whined.

The others looked at him then Mike shrugged.

“Maybe they were out of the other food?” Stewie offered.

15 minutes after the trays had been delivered, they were all empty. Then the testicle cuffs started to tug at the boys, forcing them to their feet.

“Now what,” Dillon said.

The cuffs retracted towards the wall, stopping when the boys were each about six inches away. Then the current started up again.

“Oh not again,” Mike said, as his dick rapidly hardened.

A minute later all four boys stood with rigid tools straining hard, bloated with never before experienced volumes of blood. The door opened and the jailer entered and collected their trays. The boys couldn’t shield themselves from him, so they stood, shifting from foot to foot, jiggling, and hunching as the arousal set in. They looked at him with pained looks, like freshly spanked schoolboys.

“Please man,” Jake begged.

The jailor left wordlessly.

Six hours later, all four boys were going out of their minds again. There were puddles of clear precum beneath each of them.

Mike’s cable was the first to loosen. He moved away from the wall cautiously as the cable continued to pay out. He was desperate to cum. He shuffled towards the dildo slowly, afraid of being yanked back as he had last time, but the cable continued paying out. He reached the vagina and crouched, inserting his penis into the soft rubber hole, then the cable started to retract slowly. He turned and looked at the wall behind him where the cable was disappearing.

“No! Please…” he implored. The cable retracted slowly, pulling his balls backwards, and him along with them, until he had just the head of his dick in the pocket pussy in front of him, then it stopped. Mike looked at his friends, but they were all squirming and writhing as their extreme arousal dominated them. He looked back at the wall again, nervous in case he got yanked out of the latex vagina. He stood, uncertain for almost a minute. His balls were still being zapped, and his libido was on overdrive. Finally, he gave up and decided to risk it.

He pulled his dick out, and pushed it back in again. There was less than an inch of travel. He repeated his action half a dozen times, unable to get enough friction on the lubed pussy. He pushed an inch deeper, the testicle cuffs stretching his balls painfully back between his legs. On each forward stroke, he yanked his balls, creating a dull ache, the pain blending with the pleasure. He became fearful that he would be denied just at the crucial moment so he increased his tempo to 3, 4, 5 short pumps per second, humping the vagina like an oversexed rabbit. It wasn’t satisfying, but at least it was better than standing around with an infuriating hard on. He came hard. His jizz squirted through the rubber hole and landed on the floor four feet beyond. He carried on humping until he didn’t need to any longer, then he took a step back, and another, returning to the floor by the wall, where he sat down.

The others were watching with avid interest. As overwhelmingly horny and distracted as they felt, they were also aware that it would hopefully be their turn soon. But another cable did not release. Instead, the current in Mike’s cable increased, keeping him horny and hard. He sat with the boner sticking up between his legs for half an hour, before his drooling penis drove him to his feet. Looking at his friends, he timidly crept towards the fuck station again. He looked up at the wide angle camera in the ceiling like a kid about to shoplift, then he pushed his dick back into the rubber hole. He fucked it as hard as the first time, squirting a couple of feet on his second go, before returning sheepishly to his former location. The others watched him. Surely it would be their turn soon? The last time was just an oversight?

An hour later, Mike fucked the vagina again, and another hour after that, and two hours after that. Meanwhile, his friends were crawling the walls. Even Dillon, who was previously so reserved, would have fucked the hole like a paedophile let loose in an orphanage if he’d just got the opportunity. But it didn’t come. The only thing that did come was Mike, five times in total, before his cable finally retracted, forcing him to sit by the wall.

The current in all four testicle bands turned off, and denied the stimulation, all four boys gradually lost their erections. Mike was thoroughly sated, and his penis wilted immediately, but the other three were not so quick to lose their hard-ons. Ten and a half hours of continuous electro stim had aroused them like never before, and although they felt the absence of current in their balls, their dicks remained hard as steel for another ten minutes before very slowly drooping between their legs. They stood, foreskins fully retracted semi hard dicks swinging between their legs, wondering what would happen next.

Eventually, when the last penis had lowered it head the cables loosed and the other three were permitted to sit. There were puddles of precum the size of dinner plates where each of them had stood.

Mike was feeling physically good. A five orgasm day was a first for him, and even if they weren’t as good as proper fucks, at least their captors had let him finish this time. He looked at the others, unwilling to speak in case he came across as too chirpy or insensitive. They were morose and clearly frustrated. Their dicks hung down large and floppy, like small elephant trunks, in that way that only a recently hard dick can do – not quite a semi, but nor as flaccid as normal. Even though their captivity was a terrifying uncertainty, at that moment, all three of them would have ignored that if they could just get their right hands free for two minutes.

Five minutes later, the jailor entered and placed a tray of food within reach of each of them. All but Jake had burgers, fruit, juice, and a small candy bar. Jake had curry, bread and milk.

They ate in silence.

After the meal, the trays were collected. Jake was the first to realise that he needed to use the lavatory. He squatted over the squat toilet and dropped a load. It exploded from him, the curry,  chilli and milk, doing their work. His liquid faeces splattered into the low pan, as his body noisily evacuated two day’s worth of waste in 20 seconds. The stench was nauseating.

“Errrrrrrgh,”  Stewie said disgusted as the stench hit his nose.

“Sorry lads, all that spicy food,” Jake offered.

“Smells like something died in there,” Mike bantered, free to talk now that Stewie had broken the ice.

Jake finished and made to move off the toilet when cold water hit him in the ring. He jumped away from the toilet with shock.

“What!”

He looked back at the toilet and a small jet of water was rising a foot in the air from a nozzle inside.

Dillon laughed. It’s a bidet. It’s for washing your ass. I’d sit back down and let it if I was you, or you’re going to have a crusty ass. Jake tentatively did what Dillon suggested and the jet did indeed clean him. When it was done, a flush cleared the pan.

Then the lights went out.

Conditioning – Chapter 3 Day 3

The light came on. The food was delivered – Jake had milk and beans.

The usual begging for freedom or explanations began from all four boys. Rather than answering, the man with the food took out a remote control and pressed a button. The boys felt a powerful electric shock jolting into their balls from the cuff surrounding their scrotums. Jake, Dillon and  Mike dropped to floor as they experienced what felt like a cross between a kick in the nuts and a zap with a taser. Stewie had a slightly higher pain threshold, and he dropped into a crouch in an irrational attempt to move his balls away from the cuff. The heavy cuff moved with him, and the pain had instantly tightened his already tight scrotum, so there was nowhere for his balls to go to. The man stabbed at the button again, and held his finger down longer. Stewie collapsed to the floor like along with his friends. The man in the black balaclava left.

The boys writhed on the floor for a good ten minutes before they were able to recover sufficiently to talk.

“Fuck that hurt!” Mike said.

“I know. It hurt even more last time,” Dillon said.

“We are sooo fucked,” Jake said, fatalistically.

“Yeah,” Mike agreed.

“I don’t know,” Dillon said. “Why wear a mask if they don’t plan to let us go?”

Nobody had an answer, but knowing it would not have given them comfort. The man in the control booth smiled to himself. Protecting his staff’s identity was vital. It gave Interpol nothing to work with if they intercepted the video feed to his customers.

The boys ate, with a slight feeling of optimism, and when they finished, the trays were collected, and the now familiar stimulator current was switched on.

“Not again. I never knew a boner could be so frustrating,” Stewie said, his penis hard in seconds.

“Truth,” Mike  agreed, as all four boys stood with hard dicks straining.

Dillon was the first to start leaking, 13 minutes after the stimulators were turned on. Although he was the most sexually conservative of the group, he also had the highest libido, fuelled by a hefty pair of nuts that constantly flooded his body with testosterone.

A large bead of clear precum formed at the tip of his dick, then slowly more joined it. He didn’t notice it at first, but Jake notice the light glinting off it. Although locker-room rules meant that it was considered faggy to look at a naked guy’s dick, all four of them had little else on their minds.

At first the boys talked to each other, discussing their predicament, and options for escape, but after 45 minutes of arousal, the talk turned, as it had on the previous two days to sex. After 90 minutes, the boys were so distracted by the incredible feeling in their nuts and dicks, that they were no longer interested in talk.  It was unlike anything they had ever experienced before. There was a constant delicious tingling, buzzing feeling in their nuts and the base of their dicks that made them incredibly excited, but without any actual penile stimulation, their dicks simply bloated with blood, enable to pass the threshold into orgasm.

“You’re leaking Dillon,” Jake said, referring to the thread of precum that hung a foot below Dillon’s dick.

“Uuurgh,” Dillon acknowledged, already too horny to bother with proper speech.

After three hours, Dillon was literally air fucking, as though the action could provide the stimulation to enable him to ejaculate. He couldn’t help it. He had stood, horny for hours the previous two days, but he still had not been allowed to cum.

His cable was the first to release, he felt it loosening, and he stepped away from the wall. He was  desperate to cum, but the prudish part of him still had control, and he didn’t move towards the centre of the room where the rubber vagina stood on a stand ready to provide desperately needed release. A voice came from the speaker, giving a flat command.

“Fuck.”

The small part of Dillon that retained his uptight Christian upbringing gave him strength and obstinacy. He didn’t move and as he expected, a current zapped through his balls, dropping him to the floor like a sack of flour from a miller’s shoulder. It was no more powerful than the first day but it went on and on, for over five minutes. He lay on his side, with his hard penis resting on his leg. Mike could see that Dillon had ejaculated immediately, but as the current continued, Mike saw his friend ejaculate again and again as the current forced his balls to contract in an agonising distortion of the orgasmic response. For some reason watching his friend cum time and time again only made Mike feel more horny. Had he been in his right mind, Mike would have felt guilty, but all that he could think about was his own overwhelming need to cum.

The pain shot up the cords from the cords of Dillon’s balls, and the pain spread up into his stomach. He could also feel the current through the base of his dick. His dick got harder and harder, almost as though the veins were going to burst. Even his glans was bloated and shiny. The pain passed from his groin down into tops of his thighs and halfway to the inside of his knees.

Dillon could do nothing but lay on the floor, convulsing in pain as he was forced to cum and cum, until his balls had literally no more to give. Even then the current continued, making his testicles contract far too tightly in rhythmic pulses.

Finally, the current switched off and he lay there groaning.

An hour or two later, Stewie’s cable released, and without hesitation, he walked to the rubber vagina, and dropped into a crouch in order to fuck it. He started pumping, one… two… three… ten times – then the cable around his balls yanked back savagely, pulling him out of the vagina, and down onto his ass. He grunted in pain and surprise, then quickly tried to scramble back to his feet, but he was being dragged across the smooth metal floor backwards by his balls. He twisted and turned, rolling on the floor in a wild effort to get to his feet, and he managed to get the cable out from between his legs just as he reached the wall. The cable stopped pulling him. His nuts were aching fiercely but the stimulator current did not cease. His arms were still tied tightly across his back. He sat, legs apart, head between his knees, groaning. His erection was as hard as ever, and for the first time ever, he experienced the strange duality of agonised nuts and incredible horniness.

Three hours later, the other boys had still not been given release. The rubber vagina in the room dropped into the floor and was replaced by a slightly wider one lifted to waist height. Jake’s cable released and he moved immediately forwards and inserted his dick into the rubber hole.

“Don’t fuck,” the voice said. Jake pulled his dick out, frustrated, but afraid to incur the wrath of the controller.

“Put your dick back in, but don’t fuck,” the voice ordered.

Jake complied, sliding his dick back into the soft hole. He stood there, eager to do more. Mike’s cable released and he walked uncertainly forwards a few steps. He looked up at the camera uncertain of what was expected of him.

“Put your dick in, but don’t fuck.”

Mike frowned, but swiftly moved forwards to comply. It was clear that there was not space beside Jake, so he inserted his penis from the other side. The lubricated hole was snug, and his hot dick was touching Jake’s. The boys stood facing each other waiting.

“Kiss,” the voice ordered. Mike looked up at the camera unhappily, then at Jake. Jake looked back at him solemnly. It was obvious that refusal was not an option if they didn’t want to be in serious pain. Jake moved his head forwards, and Mike instinctively moved his head backwards away from him. Then he resisted his instinct and returned his head to its former position, and allowed Jake to kiss him on the lips. It was the kind of two second, puckered  lip kiss a young child gives his mother. Then they moved apart.

The voice said, “Not like that, mouths open, use your tongues. Do it like you mean it. Keep kissing until I say you can stop.”

Both boys looked up at the camera with frowning expressions of disgust. Across the world, hundreds of viewers chuckled. Then Mike looked back at Jake and Jake returned his gaze, his nose wrinkled in distaste. They stared at each other for a couple of seconds.

“Do it!” the voice commanded.

Jake parted his lips and leaned forwards. Mike did the same and they started kissing.

After 30 seconds, the voice demanded, “More passion.”

Jake closed his eyes and tried to imagine Mike was a beautiful girl. It helped, he started using his lips more.

Two minutes later the voice said, “More tongues.”

The boys didn’t know if the watcher could detect whether or not they were using their tongues, but after the morning punishment, neither was willing to risk it. They started tongue wrestling, sliding their slick tongues off each other.

Three minutes later the voice said, “MORE passion!”

The boys kissed as though their lives depended upon it. Both had their eyes closed, and both were imagining that they were kissing girls. Without even realising he was doing it, Jake slowly started humping the hole, his dick slipping and sliding against Mike’s. Mike was instantly aware, but he didn’t dare to think about it too much in case he lost his fantasy and could no longer provide a convincing performance. But he couldn’t NOT think about it. The testicle cuff was keeping him hard, but even without it, the feeling of Jake’s dick sliding back and forth against his dick head would have been almost unbearably arousing. He lost his fantasy, and now all he could think of was Jake and his hard dick. Mike wished that Jake would pump faster, on a subconscious level, feeling that if he was the passive partner, it wasn’t so bad. But his desire to cum was stronger, and he started to hump back, as they continued their passionate kiss. Jake responded by pumping faster. Now both boys were making genuine moans of passion. Suddenly Mike felt warm liquid hitting the top of his thigh. For the briefest second, he felt disgusted, then irrationally pleased that he had somehow been responsible for making Jake cum, and then all he wanted was to cum himself. He pumped even faster and Jake reciprocated. Just 15 seconds later, Mike came so hard that his knees literally buckled, pulling his dick from the rubber hole. He panicked and instantly jammed his dick back in so that he could finish. His cum dribbled down the front of Jake’s leg and the rubber pussy. Both boys carried on pumping for 30 seconds until they were both spent.

Dillon and Stewie watched in amazement. They both understood the desperate current induced lust that almost drove them crazy, and they recognised that their friends had no option but to kiss, but the fucking was entirely optional. They felt repulsed and unsettled in equal measure. Dillon was particularly disturbed. After the last punishment, he knew he couldn’t take another zapping. His balls were still hurting badly, and he just wasn’t that brave. He feared what he was going to be forced to do.

Mike and Jake continued kissing, but now that they had both cum, their urgent need for release was past. The testicle cuffs turned off, and their dicks slowly softened against each other. After a few more minutes, the cuffs retracted, pulling them apart. They retreated then sat in their respective corners feeling sheepish. The room was quiet, and nobody would make eye contact with anyone else.

Eventually, Jake felt the need to use the lavatory. He moved over to it, and squatted, stepping over the cable and turning so that the cable not up the crack of his ass. Just as he was about to start, the cable retracted, pulling him to his feet. Then the light went out.

Conditioning – Chapter 4 Day 4

Lights. Breakfast. No-one risked speaking to the jailer this time.

Jake’s high octane diet continued. Everything possible to upset his stomach. He ate and drank quickly, hoping to use the toilet before he was noticed. He moved to the crouch lavatory, but the second he went to squat, the cable connected to the collar around his scrotum pulled tight, lifting him to his feet, facing the wall. When he was a few inches away, it stopped retracting. It was clear that his captors didn’t intend him to take a shit. He wondered how long he could hold it.

The others finished eating, and their cables also tightened, forcing them to stand with their backs against the wall. This was the fourth day, and they were already getting used to the routine. Eat; stand; a few hours of unbearable forced arousal; then release if they were lucky. Except for Dillon. He had so far refused to put on a show for their captors, and he’d been punished for it. After yesterday, he’d already decided that he would capitulate to their demands. His modesty was less important than his safety. The punishment the second time was more severe than the first, and it was agonising. He didn’t want to discover what would happen if he held out a third time. But he never got the chance.

The cable attached to his balls retracted fully into the wall, pulling his testicles against the metal, and forcing him stand so close to the wall that the cheeks of his bottom spread against it. A panel opened above the one that the cable entered. Dillon could not see it, but he felt it open. He strained  to look behind himself, but his cheeks were spread against the metal. He pulled away from the wall a couple of inches, stretching his balls painfully. The cable immediately countered, pulling his balls into the cable hole. He squirmed in discomfort, but it was clear that the entire purpose of the tension was to restrict his movement.

An object came out of the upper hole and touched his bottom between the two cheeks. It was a thick dildo with a separate articulated head that could move in a circle along the dildo’s longitudinal axis. Dillon straightened in shock as he felt it touch him.

“You okay Dillon?” Mike asked.

“Something just moved behind me.”

“What sort of thing?”

“I don’t know. Something just touched my butt. Hey are your cords really tight? It feels like they’re trying to rip my nuts off.”

He looked at the others one at a time.

“Nope,” Mike said.

“Me neither,” Jake confirmed.

“No more than before,” Stewie said.

Dillon frowned, even more concerned. He could see that the other three already had fierce erections, so it was obvious that the stimulators in their testicle cuffs had been activated, but his had not. With a sense of foreboding, Dillon wondered why his hadn’t yet. He didn’t have to wait long to find out.

The thing that had touched him was carefully positioned, and then pushed between the cheeks of his bottom. He grimaced as he felt the lubricated head slipping between his cheeks, and move with unerring accuracy for his hole. His eyes widened apprehensively as he guessed correctly, where the object was going to end up. It pushed against him, and he tensed against it. It continued to push with firm and steady force and he continued push back.

Jake noticed that Dillon’s abs were hard and he was snorting through his nose as though fighting against pain.

“Hey man, what’s happening?”

Dillon looked at him, but was too modest to tell them about the invasion of his hole.

“Something’s pressing my back,” he said euphemistically, as he continued to resist the dildo with a grimace.

The dildo continued to push with relentless pressure, and although he manage to counter its movement for over five minutes, despite the fact that he was clenching his anus for all he was worth, he could feel the cool plastic tip ever-so-slowly spreading his ass lips wider and wider. His hole was starting to sting as it stretched to accommodate the intrusion. By eight minutes, Dillon didn’t think he could resist much longer. If he could just take one quick breath and rally his strength. He exhaled, relaxing for just a moment, and the smooth dildo instantly slipped inside him. He gasped loudly.

“Dude, you okay?“ Mike asked.

Dillon didn’t answer, unwilling to let his friends know he was being anally invaded. Instead he screwed his lips into an oval grimace and gave a curt nod, his distressed face on the edge of tears.

The dildo penetrated deeper; almost five inches, until it pressed against his prostate. The cable holding his balls loosened a little. Now that he was impaled, there was no need to hold him in place. Dillon moved forwards, relieved that at least the dull ache in his nuts would soon stop. Then he felt the stimulator holding his balls come to life. Even if he had not been aware of the pleasurable tingling, the impressive speed that his penis went from complete flaccid, to diamond-cutter hard was a clear indication that his body was being manipulated.

Stewie saw Dillon’s dick standing swiftly to attention.

“Decided to join us,” he joked.

“Looks like it,” Dillon quipped back with forced humour.

Then the vibrator in his buzzed into life.

“Hnhh,” Dillon said, shocked by the movement within him.

The egg-shaped head of the dildo started vibrating in circles over one centimetre from one extreme to the other. This wasn’t the gentle buzzing of a normal vibrator whose purpose was to gently tease and arouse its subject, edging them slowly towards orgasm. This was an aggressive prostate pounding with just one purpose, to drive its victim towards an irresistible orgasm as quickly as possible.

The neck of the vibrator was also moving. It was made of soft rubber, and within, a spiral of hard metal balls that ran from the base to near the tip, span in a constant circle, creating rippling undulations in the slime lubed rubber. The movement massaged the inside of Dilllon’s sphincter. He tensed against it, but it was impossible to hold his hole tight against the constantly changing shape.

The vibrations of the rotating head were so powerful that Dillon’s penis started bouncing, and then spinning in sympathetic resonance, and it was clear as day to the others that this was more than merely something pressing his back.

“What the fuck is happening?!” Mike demanded.

“B… butt. Something in my butt. Mmm. Mmm… mmmmoving,” Dillon stammered, almost rendered speechless by the intensity of feelings he was experiencing.

“Can’t you move away?” Jake asked.

Dillon stared straight ahead, but gave a small tense shake of his head.

“Unnn…”

Then he came. Ropes of cum sprayed and were cast in wide circles by his oscillating penis. He’d never cum as hard in his life. The cum was thrown four, five, even seven feet away in every direction like streamers at a new year party. His legs shook and trembled at the intensity as the cum was literally hurled from his penis. He tried to resist, but his body was completely out of his control and he continued to cum for almost 20 seconds.

When his balls finally had no more to give, he collapsed on legs robbed of their strength by his monumental orgasm, but he was held up by the cable. He managed to lock his legs so that his weight was not supported by his testicles, and he hunched forward, sweating and panting.

“Fucking hell!” Jake said.

Nobody else said a word. Dillon’s penis continued vibrating in time with the device inside him. The prostate massager had been working for just 80 seconds!

The controller watched in his studio with a grin. NO boy could resist the Analizer, as they had dubbed it. NO BOY. It didn’t matter how stubborn, or uptight he was, nor how much self control they had, within three minutes, EVERY boy was flinging his jizz like he was trying to fertilise the whole room.

10 minutes later Dillon came again. Then 15 minutes after that, then 17 minutes later. He didn’t produce as much sperm, but he did cream each and every time. His body was being forced into erotic overdrive.

The self lubricating vibrator continued working for 12 hours straight. After two hours, Dillon’s hole went numb, and a little after that, his prostate did the same. But each and every time he came, he got the same massive ball rush, and the deep dick feeling of an immense orgasm. One second he’d be standing there, then with no warning he was cumming, and his spunk would be flicking around the room.

Dillon’s body settled into a rhythm, ejaculating roughly every 20 minutes. But after 45 minutes, his friends no longer cared. They had distractions of their own. They were fidgeting and hunching and groaning, desperate to follow Dillon’s example and cum. Each day was worse than the one before. Rather than getting used to the stimulation, and coping with it better, their arousal became more unbearable. Their balls felt huge, and their dicks impossibly hard.

Jake was facing the wall, and he started rubbing his dick against it.

His cable loosened and he realised that he was going to have the chance to fuck the rubber vagina in the middle of the room. That was much better than the wall. He turned and stepped over the cable that had been running  in front of him to the wall, so that it was back between his legs. As soon as he did, it tightened again, pulling him to the wall. Jake gave a little moan of disappointment.

“Ohh”.

“Don’t hump the walls,” the voice said over the microphone.

Stewie, Mike and Jake continued to roast, like a mixture between a horny dog and a junkie going cold turkey. Meanwhile Dillon continued to involuntarily redecorate his part of the room with his jizz every twenty minutes, unable to resist the device that was forcing him to orgasm.

Finally, after six hours, Jake’s cable released and he was allowed to move towards the rubber vagina. The double had been replaced with the single. As he crouched before it, and inserted his dick, the voice said, “Twenty seconds.”

Jake correctly interpreted it to mean that he only had twenty seconds to get off. He humped the rubber fast and deep as though his life depended upon it. At 15 seconds Jake came, and he continued fucking until he was slowly pulled by the balls back to his wall.

Stewie and Mike  watched  with envy, hoping that it would be their turn soon. But they were left to suffer for another six hours before their cables finally loosened. They both moved forwards together eager to use the latex pussy. They arrived together. It was the single unit, and they were both desperately horny. They looked at each other, neither willing to sacrifice the first go. Mike was more aggressive and bigger. He stepped forwards ready to assert himself, then the vagina stand dropped into the floor.

Both boys looked at the hole where it had gone, waiting for the double to appear. Mike had already got off with Jake the day before, and although he felt very sheepish about it when he was rational, right now, he was so horny that he would gladly repeat the performance with Stewie. For his part, Stewie was so eager to cum that he was almost incapable of thinking at all.

They stood waiting for a full minute before it dawned on them that the pussy would not be re-appearing.

“Rub against each other,” the voice said.

Stewie looked at Mike and moved towards his friend. Mike looked back at Stewie, and his eyes lit up like a dog desperate to pee who suddenly spots a lamppost. They moved stomach to stomach and without hesitation started humping up and down against each other. It wasn’t sophisticated or erotic, but it was effective. Their sweaty stomachs slid back and forth against each other. Mike could feel Stewie’s thick 8 incher pressing against his stomach, trapped between their bodies. His own dick measured just under five inches and was much thinner. He had to push hard against Stewie to ensure his dick was stimulated too. He leaned his head forwards onto Stewie’s shoulder, nuzzling so that they could get closer. Stewie leaned his head into the nuzzle. It served no erotic purpose, but was an instinctive gesture of closeness he ordinarily reserved for female partners. The fact that he was showing affection to a male didn’t even cross his mind. Mike was moving his pelvis up and down in short stabbing motions. Stewie was using longer slower strokes.

Although their dicks were rubbing beside each other, each boy was moving to his own selfish rhythm, interested only in self gratification. Mike started gasping and humping faster. Stewie felt Mike’s cum squirt onto his stomach, and Mike increased his pace still further. Stewie was getting turned on by how turned on Mike was.

Mike slowed and stopped, taking a small step away, and Stewie followed him, eager to cum himself. Realising his obligation to allow himself to be used as a humping post, Mike stood his ground as Stewie continued humping. He was just a few seconds from coming, and his nuts had entered the final run up to a much-needed orgasm. Then he felt his balls being pulled, and he and Mike were pulled apart. Stewie looked at Mike, mortified; desperate.

“No, please!” he said to no-one in particular.

He started to ejaculate, but it was not the hearty orgasm of a body stimulated throughout the process, but the pathetic half orgasm of a libido interrupted. His penis gave one big squirt, but the tugging on his balls was short-circuiting his orgasm. Another tiny squirt pumped from his cock, followed by a dribbling ejaculation that produced more frustration than satisfaction. He growled with the feral frustration of a dog pulled off its mate, but he couldn’t resist the pull of the cable.

Mike looked at him with sympathy, as he allowed himself to be gently tugged back to his wall. He felt sated now that the desperate need to cum had been taken care of.

Meanwhile, as Dillon stood watching, yet more cum was launched in every direction from his wildly spinning penis.

The dildo finally withdrew from Dillon’s hole, and his cable loosened, allowing him to sit, along with Stewie and Mike. Everyone’s stimulators were off, but Stewie felt disconsolate and cheated. He glared at Mike, blaming him for cumming first and for selfishly moving away.

“I’m really sorry bro,” Mike said, reading Stewie’s thoughts.

Although his sphincter was numb, Dillon could feel fresh air in his hole. It was stretched wide open after a day of vibrator rape. He curled into a foetal position. His nuts had been milked for 12 hours straight, and he didn’t ever want to think about ejaculating again. He couldn’t ignore the fact that he had cum over 30 times as a result of being ass raped. He tried not to think about what that said about him, but the thought kept returning to the forefront of his mind.

Meanwhile, Jake stood by his wall, held upright by the tether to his balls. His stomach was really starting to ache. He didn’t know how much longer he could manage without taking a crap.

 Then the light went out.

Conditioning – Chapter 5 Day 5

Breakfast is delivered. Jake looked at his tray of bran cereal but ignored it. His stomach had been aching constantly, and he still hadn’t been allowed to shit. He didn’t think he dared to eat anything else.

His friends ate hungrily.

After breakfast, the testicle cuffs turned on for everyone but Dillon. He was relieved and grateful for the small mercy. Half a day standing around with erection that just won’t go wasn’t his idea of fun, but standing around with an unbearable erection, being ass-fucked and jizzing randomly every 20 minutes was really not his idea of a good time. His asshole was still numb from the day before. His cable stayed loose, and he sat on the floor.

Within 15 minutes, for the first time, he got to witness his friend’s stimulation without distraction. The first and third days, he’d been in so much pain he had no interest in their pleasure. The second and fourth days, he was as thought-wipingly turned on as they were, but today: the fifth day, he was finally allowed to simply sit.

Their stimulators were turned to high, and although all four boys talked to each other at first, conversation from three of them quickly dried up. It would be funny if their situation wasn’t so dire. The way that the pauses between comments grew, and the words themselves became increasingly intermittent as the effort of concentrating on anything but how horny they felt gradually became greater and greater.

Jake had been groaning intermittently for two days about his stomach ache, and the effort of holding back a 4 day diet of high fibre, high octane food. At 11.25, he finally lost the battle. It was simply impossible for him to focus on the all-consuming arousal he felt, whilst holding his sphincter clenched shut. He was standing with his knees pressed together, and his buttocks tensed, when he felt the first squirt of diarrhoea escape him, he tried to tense harder, but once it had started, it was like a floodgate had opened, and he was powerless to stop himself. He was being held near to the wall, but quickly widened his stance so that at least he didn’t defecate on his own legs. He groaned with disgust at himself, but once his bowel evacuation was underway, didn’t even try to resist it any more.

Stewie and Mike were aware of Jake’s loss of control, but barely interested. Their only thought was their desire to ejaculate.

Dillon was also aware. He was disgusted by the spectacle and the stench, but he knew only too well from his own behaviour the previous day, that their bodies were not their own any more. Unless their captors allowed Jake to use the lavatory, as the rest of them did, it was a battle that he was inevitably destined to lose.

When Jake finally stopped emptying his guts, the jailor appeared carrying a heavy duty hose. Without prelim, he opened the valve and sprayed Jake like a Chinese cop spraying a protesting student. Jake could not hold up his hands to shield himself, but instinctively he tried away from the water to protect himself. The painful yank on his balls quickly reminded him that that was not an option either. The water was ice cold, but there was nothing he could do to prevent it.

Jake’s cable released a little and now he turned away. The jailor hosed him down thoroughly, aiming  the jet directly  at Jake’s asshole. Jake felt some of the water going up into him, and turned to the side.

The jailor hosed the floor and the wall, and Dillon finally understood why the walls didn’t fully meet the floor. It had been bugging him ever since he first regained consciousness in the metal room. It was a drainage gully. The jailor washed every trace of Jake’s faeces from the room, then left.

Jake’s cable retracted again, forcing him to stand close to the wall once more. He stood shivering, covered head to toe in goose bumps, his skin pale from the cold, as the blood retreated to supply his vital organs.

Across the room, Mike’s cable extended, and he stepped forwards, mindless of Jake’s predicament, eager for relief of his own. As he approached the latex pussy, a voice in the ceiling said “fifteen seconds.” Mike’s eyes widened. He fucked the pussy frantically, desperate not to be denied release. He started squirting at 12 seconds, and doubled his pace, sensing he didn’t have much longer. He was gently tugged by the balls away from the pussy at 15 seconds, with cum still squirting from his throbbing dick. His penis bounced up as it was freed from the latex vagina. Mike grunted, trying to thrust towards the fake pussy as he was pulled away from away from it, but the cable’s motion was implacable. He returned to his wall and was allowed to sit.

At 3pm, Jake’s cable was released. He was still cold from the ice water hosing, but he’d also had his simulator on high for over six hours, and he was eager for relief. He moved towards the pussy, crouched and fucked it quickly, fearful that he would be prevented from climaxing. Without full bowels, he was able to enjoy the experience fully, and he came hard and happily. He continued fucking until he felt fully sated, then stepped away from the soft rubber hole.

“Keep fucking,” the voice said from a speaker.

Mike was momentarily confused, then he understood the instruction and stepped forwards and continued fucking. He was still horny, so it was no imposition, and ten minutes later he came again, almost as strongly as the first time.

“Keep fucking,” the voice commanded.

Mike did as he was ordered, although with two recent orgasms under his belt, it was now a purely mechanical act with little lust behind it. The stimulator had been turned down – just high enough to keep him hard, but not enough to make him horny.

He continued humping the hole. Instead of the short stabbing strokes he had used when he wanted to cum, he was using long strokes that pushed his cock right through and out the other side of the three inch deep latex vagina. His actions were designed to satisfy the commands of the watcher, but to provide minimal stimulation to his own cock. Nevertheless, each time he drew his cock back, and the back rim of his glans and his fraenulum rubbed against the synthetic vagina, and he felt the tingle of a hypersensitive, post orgasm penis that would rather not be touched any more.

Jake continued pumping, and 45 minutes from his second orgasm, he felt his excitement level slowly starting to rise once more. He fucked with more purpose, intent on elevating that excitement to a high enough level so that he could ejaculate yet again.

Mike was pumping away because he’d been ordered, but as he felt the tingle of renewed excitement, he also instinctively wanted to drive his body towards an orgasm. Some part of him wanted to please the person watching on the camera. His thoughts were not entirely rational. He felt that if he could just cum once more, that he’d be allowed to stop, but he also simply wanted to please the voice, in the hope that he could win its owner’s approval.

He shortened the length of his strokes, and increased his pace, all former chill finally sweated from his body. He felt his excitement growing slowly, slowly, his recently drained nuts unwilling to offer more sperm. Then from nowhere, he was cumming again, with none of the satisfying contractions and deep ball pleasure that might come with a less strained orgasm. His body was slowly building, then a few dribbles of cum were leaking from the end of his cock. He leaned back as he continued humping, not wanting his captor to miss the fact that he had cum again, no matter how pathetically.

“Keep fucking.”

Jake frowned. He’d never cum three times without a break, and now he was being told to keep on going? His thigh muscles were screaming from the crouching stance, and he keep changing into all manner of  weird positions to avoid repeated cramps – one leg straight to the side, both legs out, balanced on one leg; whatever it took to support his weight whilst he continued fucking the hole.

Dillon watched with bemusement. He had sympathy for his friend, but Jake’s antics were fascinating to say the least. Dillon felt a hard erection grow in his lap. The stimulator wasn’t on, but nobody else would know that. He sat with it throbbing insistently for over half an hour, strangely aroused by his friend’s performance.

“Keep  fucking. Keep fucking. Keep fucking.”

By 9pm Jake had long since stopped actually squirting, and even with the superb lube that constantly oozed from the vagina, his fraenulum was red and sore. His helmet had turned a dark purple colour around its flared rim: bruised and over used.

Dillon had long since ceased to have any interest. His interest was taken by Stewie who was clearly desperate for release over by his wall. He’d been on high stimulation for over 12 hours, and looked as though he’d leaked several mug’s worth of precum. He went through phases; for a few minutes  hunching and groaning as though he’d been kicked in the balls, then changing from foot to foot like a little boy who needs to go to the bathroom. Right now, he was doing a weird kind of sensual, slow motion air grinding, starting from his stomach, then rolling down to his pelvis, producing a rippling thrusting motion that would have been great if he had a partner beneath him.

The cable attached to Jake’s balls tugged him gently back towards his wall, and he went gratefully  – his penis numb from six hours of non-stop fucking. As he sank to the floor, drained and exhausted, the cable around Dillon’s balls tightened, forcing him to stand.

The cable around Stewie’s balls released, and he moved forwards as fast as he could, like a dog straining against a leash. Just as he arrived, the vagina and its stand, disappeared into the floor. Stewie watched it disappear with a frown, and waited for another to appear. It didn’t. Stewie stood there with his boner bouncing, twitching, all ready to go. He’d mentally prepared himself for release, like a man with a full bladder who has finally gotten to a toilet and unzipped his fly.

Stewie looked around at the others. Surely one of them was going to step forwards. Stewie was more than willing to grind against anybody in the room if he could just cum, and he was DEFINITELY not going to be beaten this time.

Dillon watched with curiosity. Following the previous pattern, where each of them got to cum or was denied each day, it was his turn. He was not even excited, and his stimulator had not been on all day. But to avoid further punishment, he was willing to partner Stewie, and do what the others had done yesterday and the day before. It was only kissing, and it wasn’t like he had a choice. His cable loosened, and he stepped forwards stoically, not in the least bit interested. He just hoped that the voice wouldn’t mind the fact that he was not hard.

Stewie saw Dillon walk forwards, and turned to him expectantly. Right now, he would have fucked a llama, in public, if he was just allowed to cum. Dillon arrived and they stood face to face. Without waiting for instructions, Stewie moved his groin against Dillon and started rubbing himself. Dillon retreated a step, somewhat taken aback by his friend’s animal lust. He wasn’t human to Stewie – he was just something warm and soft to rub against.

“No,” the voice said. “Kneel.”

The command was ambiguous and both boys looked confused. They both knelt.

“Not both of you. The skinny one.”

Dillon knew that meant him. Stewie stood up.

“Now suck him,” the voice commanded.

Dillon looked at Stewie’s penis. It was bulging, and in spite of just having rubbed against him, it was soaked with sticky precum. There was no way that he was having that in his mouth. Without really considering the consequences, he stood up and said, “No.”

“Please Dillon,” Stewie implored him.

“Sorry Stewie but there’s…”

Dillon didn’t get to finish the sentence. The cable connected to Stewie’s testicle cuff yanked him violently backwards, literally lifting him off his feet and pulling him backwards  three feet before he bounced on the floor and was tugged all the way back to the wall. Stewie let out a strangled yelp, and for the first time in 6 hours, sex was not the more important thing on his mind. The cable continued tightening lifting him to his feet. The pain was unreal, then something truly unexpected happened. The entire column of wall panels that included the one his testicle wire tethered into, started to rise. Stewie was already on his feet, but he was lifted by the testicles up onto tip toe. The panel continued lifting, another six inches, until he was dangling with his ass pressed hard against the panel, folded over in pain. He struggled, but that just made the pain worse.

“Please,” he implored the camera in a pain-strangled voice, “it wasn’t my fault. I’ve done everything you told me!”

Dillon looked at his friend with horror.  He moved towards him hoping that he could somehow support his friend’s weight, but his cable stopped him just short.

He looked up at the camera.

“What are you hurting him for? It was me that said no.”

Across the room, Jake’s cable tightened. He quickly clambered to his feet, and he was also pulled against the wall. He looked at Stewie in horror, hoping that that wasn’t his fate, but his panel also rose.

“No, please no!” he begged. “I’ll do anything!”

He was lifted from his feet. He could feel his scrotum pulled up between his ass cheeks. With his arms tied behind his back, it was incredible how powerless he was to resist.

Mike watched in dismay, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t be next. Then his cable tightened. He quickly lay on the floor with his feet in the air, hoping that the position would somehow mitigate what was about to happen. The column of panels rose and continued to rise until his head was six inches off the floor. Like the other three, he lost control of his bladder, and for the first time in his life, got to discover what his own urine tasted like. He spluttered, but it was the least of his worries. He performed an inverted sit up, his buttocks pressed firmly against the wall. The strain on his balls was excruciating.  Once his head was lifted, Mike twisted his body so that his feet hung down, hoping that this position might be less painful. It felt like his nuts were being twisted off. Once he got right way up, his feet still didn’t touch the floor, but the effort of getting there robbed all of his strength. He collapsed forwards, like his friends had.

Dillon was tugged back towards his wall. He expected to receive the same fate as his friends. He wanted to steel himself for the pain, but he had no idea how to ready yourself for that level of ball pain. But it was moot. He DIDN’T get suspended. Instead the jailor entered carrying a single tray of pleasant food, and placed it on the floor in front of him. The jailor left and Dillon’s cable was released enough for him to sit or lay, and to move freely.

He looked at his friends miserably, knowing that they were being punished for his stubbornness.

There was no way that he could simply eat whilst they suffered so badly. He ignored the meal.

After 15 minutes, the voice said, “Eat.”

Dillon shook his head sadly.

“I can’t. Not while my friends are hurting like that.”

The other three were hanging, as perfectly still as they could to minimise the stress on their balls. Suddenly all three started jerking and struggling, as current was passed through the testicle cuffs to their balls.

“Eat, for fuck sake eat!” Stewie shouted urgently once the current had stopped.

Dillon looked at them in horror, then started to eat. It went down his throat and sat in his stomach like rocks. Seeing his friends suffering made him so tense that he could barely swallow. When he had finished the food, he used the lavatory.

Then the light went out.

Conditioning – Chapter 6 Days 6-14

Nobody slept on the night of day 5. Dillon could hear the groans of pain from his three friends. He lay on the floor, restless, unable to simply shut his eyes and sleep knowing that they were suffering, especially as he was partly responsible.

For their part, Jake, Mike and Stewie were hanging from the wall by cuffs that were secured around their scrotums. Any movement or attempt to lessen the pain, only made things worse, and quickly after being tethered, all three simply collapsed, faces towards their knees, waiting for release or…

At some time during the night, Dillon could hear Stewie starting to cry. All three had been groaning intermittently, punctuated by shouted profanities of exasperation, anger, or agony, but this was different. Dillon could hear Stewie start snivelling, the wretched sound of a child alone and totally bereft of hope. But Stewie wasn’t a child, and to hear such pitiful mewling from a nearly grown man was particularly distressing. Dillon had been zapped in the balls twice for disobedience, but he could only imagine how his friend was feeling with his full body weight supported by his nuts. Stewie continued sobbing for a long time, before finally losing the energy even for that lamentably small show of distress.

The following morning, the light came on, and Dillon looked around. Mike and Jake were standing on the floor. Mike was on the soles of his feet, and Jake was on tip-toes, but it was clear that during the night, their scrotums had stretched enough for them to support themselves on their feet. Dillon didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. There was no blood, so at least nobody had lost his balls in the night. They blinked in the new light. Both had dark rings under their eyes, and they looked as though they’d been deprived of an entire week of sleep.

“How are you guys doing?” Dillon asked.

“Uhnnnng,” was all Jake could manage, turning slightly in Dillon’s direction. Mike just stared ahead, lost in his own pain.

Dillon looked at Stewie. The boy was still three inches from the floor, and he didn’t react when the light came back on.

“I think Stewie’s passed out,” Dillon said.

The others didn’t acknowledge the comment, in too much pain themselves to expend the energy on speech.

Dillon wondered if he should shout to try and rouse Stewie, but he decided it was kinder to leave him passed out. He felt his own testicle cable pulling slowly tight and he rose to his feet and stood by the wall. The jailor entered, and placed a tasty breakfast tray in front of him, and a beaker of water in front of the other three.

“Please sir,” Dillon said, hoping that his politeness and abject capitulation would appease the jailor, “please let my friends down. I’m so sorry I said no. Please don’t hurt them anymore.”

The jailor left without even acknowledging that Dillon had spoken. However, 30 seconds later, the cables on all four boys released. Mike and Jake collapsed to the floor grunting, and Stewie fell slowly – a total dead weight. Mike and Stewie curled up, but bizarrely, now that they were no longer being supported by their balls, the pain got dramatically worse as the blood circulated and the nerves tingled back to life. Although he lay on his side, exhausted and in agony, Jake lifted his top leg wide open like a dog taking a pee, in an effort to provide breathing room for his balls. Dillon could see that Jake’s balls were tiny and bruised a deep purple.

Dillon ate his breakfast, as he watched his friends with deep concern. Then he was forced to stand, and the jailor came and collected his tray, leaving the beakers for the others. Dillon felt his stimulator turn on.

In spite of his concern for his friends, with each passing minute of stimulation, Dillon’s focus on them diminished, as his own incredible arousal dominated his entire consciousness. It felt so wrong to be standing with a boner, whilst his friends lay incapacitated by agony, but any moral concerns Dillon may have had, dissipated in inverse proportion to his own horniness.

Around 10am, Stewie started to rouse, but Dillon barely cared by that point. At 11am, when his cable released, Dillon was more than happy to fuck the latex vagina in the middle of the room. He stepped forwards immediately, barely aware of his friends, and fucked it hard and fast, enjoying the first time where he controlled his own orgasm since his captivity. He came quickly and powerfully, and was returned to his wall.

Freed of the immediate desire to ejaculate, Dillon felt guilty that he had enjoyed himself whilst his friends suffered. He looked at them. Jake was still lying on his side, his knees apart. Mike and Stewie sat with their backs to the metal walls, legs also spread. They were morose and quiet. Dillon could see that the scrotums of all three were bruised deep purple, and swollen to the size of grapefruits between their legs. There was nothing Dillon could say that seemed appropriate, so he maintained a respectful silence.

His stimulator remained turned on, and it didn’t take long for him to recover from his first orgasm. He was sitting comfortably, rather than standing, as he had for the past five days, but that did nothing to alleviate the arousal he felt. A little after noon, he was freed to use the rubber vagina for the second time, and he took advantage of the opportunity without hesitation.

Stewie and Mike watched him dourly. They knew that he was as powerless to resist the lust, as they had been to resist being suspended by the balls. They had absolutely no interest in sex themselves, and the pain in their balls was their primary focus at that point.

After he was allowed to fuck, Dillon was again returned to his wall, and soon after, a delicious meal was delivered to him, whilst his companions received nothing but water.

He was stimulated all afternoon, and allowed to use the rubber pussy twice more, before an evening meal. His companions were given nothing but water.

And then lights out. Everyone but Dillon went to sleep hungry and in pain.

And that was the routine for the next three days. Stewie, Mike and Jake were given enough water to keep tem alive, but no food whilst they slowly recovered from their injuries. Meanwhile, Dillon’s days were filled with pleasant food, and constant fucking.

On the tenth day, the swelling in the boy’s scrotums finally started to decrease. Breakfast was delivered to all four. It was placed on the floor three feet in front of them but on small tables 18 inches off the floor. The tables were an odd development, and Dillon wondered as to their purpose.

Mike, Jake and Stewie looked at the food ravenously. All three were still sore, but the pain had diminished enough that they had been able to start talking again, and their hunger was now more important than their ball pain. They had discussed their fear that they were simply going to be starved to death, and seeing the food was a huge relief.

Dillon’s cable released and he moved forwards, dropped to his knees and ate the food that had been placed on a plastic, multi-compartment tray in front of him. He’d gotten used to eating without the use of his hands, which had been secured behind his back since he first woke up in captivity, and he was grateful of the extra height provided by the small table. It enabled him to eat without lowering his face all the way to the floor like a dog. Furthermore, not being doubled over allowed the food to pass into his stomach a little easier.

The others were also released, but when they moved towards their food, they realised that they could not get close enough to drop to their knees as Dillon had. Jake looked at his food and frowned. It was tantalisingly close. He tried to bend at his middle and reach it that way, but he could only get his head a little lower than his waist. He strained towards it, famished after four days of starvation. Then he realised the whole point of this nasty little exercise. There was only one way to reach the food. He shuffled forwards until his balls were pulled tightly back between his legs, then as carefully as he could, he started to lean forwards. Stewie and Mike watched him closely, as he tried to resolve the same dilemma that they both faced. Jake grimaced, his already abused balls aching as he leaned, closer, closer, cloooooooser. Finally, when he was leaning at an angle of 45 degrees, supported by his balls, his head reached the tray, and very carefully he started to eat.

Once they had seen the solution, Stewie and Mike followed his example. Stewie leaned very gently, but immediately the pain was too much to bear. He tried again, gently, but the pain was even worse. He made an exasperated noise through half clenched teeth that was a mixture between a pained gasp, and a sorrowful sob, then gave up and returned to his wall, still famished.

Mike had a little more luck. He leaned forwards as Jake had done, and started to eat, but he made one crucial mistake: he didn’t notice that Jake had set his feet wide apart for balance before starting. As Mike ate, he lost concentration and twisted to the side, losing his centre of balance. One it was gone, it was impossible from that angle, and without the use of his hands, to save himself. He started to fall, but rather than dropping straight down as gravity decreed, his tethered balls yanked him back in a cruel arc towards the wall. He let out a yelp, and twisted 180 degrees trying to save himself. He threw one leg high in the air and over the cable, thrusting his pelvis upwards, as though it would somehow mitigate the imminent pain. It didn’t and he fell to the floor screaming and landed on his shoulders – his tortured balls in agony.

Dillon watched with sympathy, and Jake carefully turned his head to see. Mike laying on the floor, legs apart, groaning in pain.

After breakfast, Dillon was stimulated and allowed to use the pussy twice before lunch, and twice after. His friends were allowed no closer to their meals, but at least food was available.

Mike and Stewie declined to try again.

On day 11, their tethers were loosened by 3 inches, and Dillon got to fuck 5 times. On day 12, another 3 inches, and Dillon fucked 6 times. All four boys  were able to reach their meals, albeit with some discomfort. On day 13, the boys were finally allowed to reach their food without having to hurt themselves.

Day 14

On the 14^th day, Dillon’s cable was fully released. In the middle of the room, the rubber pussy disappeared, replaced instead by a vibrator with a movable head. Although he’d never seen it before, Dillon recognised it as the device that had anally raped him on day 4.The head was buzzing and moving. It embarrassed him even to look at it in front of the others.

He was stimulated on maximum, and as mid-morning approached, he was starting to look forwards to his first fuck of the day. It didn’t come. He looked at the vibrator. By midday, Dillon had missed two, and by 2pm he was four fucks down, and getting desperate. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the vibrator. He hated it. Hated the thought of being anally raped, especially in front of the others, but he also knew it was the key to his sexual release. By three, Dillon was drenched in sweat as the effort of coping with six hours of high intensity stimulation wore him down. At 3.15, he gave up, and without being ordered to, he walked to the centre of the room. He knelt down with the vibrator behind him, then slowly lowered himself onto its buzzing head. Mike and Jake watched him with disgust, but Stewie sympathised. He knew only too well that you could be forced to almost anything if you were turned on enough.

As soon as the vibrator touched Dillon’s bottom, its buzzing took on a deeper pitch, as it anchored  against his body. Although it had been in him before, Dillon’s hole had returned to normal. He eased it ever so slowly into him. The others watched, only able to judge the progress of the thing by the height of Dillon’s buttocks from the floor. The buzzing noise was almost completely muted, and Stewie realised that that meant the vibrator was fully inside Dillon’s hole. Dillon was breathing heavily, with tremulous breaths, as the vibrator touched a place inside him, that had been virgin until until a week ago.

Dillon sat back, his buttocks fully against the floor, and in spite of himself, he started grinding against the vibrator, trying to maximise the anal stimulation. He grimaced at the intensity of the pleasure, and lifted his face to the ceiling, unable to see through his tightly clenched eyes. He reclined for deeper penetration. It felt so fucking good. He felt his balls churning. He was oblivious to his friends now. He wanted his ass pleasure to go on forever.

“Ahhh, ahhh, ahhhh,” he gurgled in time with the grinding of his hips.

All too soon, he came hard. In spite of having ejaculated six times the previous day, his bloated cock launched a geyser of cum into the air. It landed on his own inclined stomach, spurt after massive spurt.

“Fuuuuck,” he growled throatily, a primitive expletive of triumph and elation torn from his vocal chords. He bounced his hips up and down like a jackhammer, smashing his prostate against the vibrator to anally pleasure himself and maximise his orgasm. He was barely aware of the rivers of thick cum sliding down his hard stomach and into his treasure trail.

After 37 seconds, he started to slow, and after 70 seconds he finally stopped moving. He sat back, eyes closed, breathing heavily through a gaping mouth, enjoying the afterglow of the gargantuan orgasm. He was dimly aware that his friends must have seen everything, and were doubtless still watching, but Dillon didn’t allow his thoughts to go in that direction. He was feeling too good. His dick was still standing up, forced by the testicle stimulator, but even without it, he’d be hard as nails right now.

Dillon was discovering just how much pleasure his asshole could bring him, but the only way that he could enjoy it, was by not thinking about it. He let his thoughts drift in the post orgasmic bliss haze of balls effectively emptied.

He could feel his dick still trembling and vibrating in time with the dildo in his ass. It felt good. Without the direct stimulation of his glans, he stayed hard without discomfort. He didn’t want the experience to end, so he remained on the vibrator, and allowed it to continue working on his asshole. His breathing slowly returned to normal, but his excitement didn’t. It was incredible. He had a constant feeling of being right on the edge of cumming. His balls felt as big as apples!

His friends continued to watch. There was absolutely nothing else to do, and they were all long past the point where the nudity or even sexual behaviour of one of them was something to be looked away from, or afforded privacy.

In spite of his initial disgust, Jake now had fierce erection of his own. He sat with his knees together and legs raised to hide it, afraid that his friends would somehow be able to discern simply by looking, which erections were cause by his own lust, and  which were caused by the stimulators. Admittedly, the  stimulator produced an erection of unequalled hardness, but truth be told, his own unassisted erection was not that far behind it right now.

Jake couldn’t understand why seeing his male friend anally fucking himself should give him an erection, but he took a small comfort from the fact that Mike and Stewie were both hard too.

Stewie suffered no such guilt or self-doubts. It was fucking horny! Watching Dillon having an amazing orgasm made him want one too, and he was no longer at all discerning where he got it from.

Mike was less introspective. He simply watched with a boner, and didn’t bother to second guess himself at all.

Dillon continued to sit, as the vibrator forced his body into sex mode more effectively than any amount of porn, any good looking women, any sexting, snapchat, or any actual sex. The fact was, Dillon wasn’t particularly good at sex. He was selfish, and his movements were all about cumming. Now, parts of his libido that he didn’t even know existed were being teased and stimulated. His body was being played, and tantalised like a master musician plays a violin. He allowed himself to be played. The circling motion of the vibrator head massaged his prostate, whilst the rippling base stimulated his sphincter. The overall vibrations ran from deep inside; from his asshole, along his perineum, and into his balls and the base of his cock. There was not a single millimetre of his genitals that were not throbbing, vibrating or tingling with pleasure. Dillon had never been so aware of his own testicles, or the various parts of his reproductive system. He didn’t know that his ass lips could produce such delightful thrills, nor that his insides could make him feel so horny.

Dillon rode the wave as he was milked to a second orgasm. He continued to sit, unwilling for it to be over yet. He opened his eyes, and looked straight into the face of Stewie. His friend was watching him closely. Their eyes locked, then Dillon notice Stewie’s erection. He grinned sheepishly, and Stewie grinned back. Dillon remained impaled as a third orgasm was urged from his willing body. Then he finally clambered off the vibrator, allowing it to leave his eager hole with a quiet slurp. Its vacancy left a sense of absence, as though a part of his body that belonged, had been removed. Dillon retreated to his wall, his hole gaping.

Over by his wall, Stewie also had an interesting experience – his hands free ejaculation since the wet dreams of early puberty. He didn’t even bother to hide it.

A few hours later, the boys were fed.

Then the light went out.

Conditioning – Chapter 7 Day 15

Dillon knew that the others had no more say in their arousal than he did, but he was nevertheless relieved on the first day of their third week in captivity, to see them hard again. It signified a return to what passed for normalcy in the bizarre existence that they had been subjected to for the past two weeks. Already, he felt himself adapting to this new paradigm. He was certainly not happy, but he was becoming accustomed to their new way of life. By the end of the day, his thoughts would be in turmoil again.

It was 9.15am. The stimulators were on and all four boys were hard as could be. Dillon looked at his friends.  None of them seemed to be suffering continued pain from their night of testicular suspension.

The boys talked, and as usual, the only subject of conversation was their predicament. Also as usual, over the first half an hour of stimulation, the boys’ desire to talk grew less and less, until eventually their vocalisations were reduced to grunts, gasps, and the occasional expletive uttered in frustration out of a desire for orgasmic release.

At 10.45 Stewie was pulled close to the wall by the cable that was attached to a collar wrapped tightly around the neck of his scrotum. He knew better than to resist. He allowed himself to be led, unresisting, simply hoping that he was not going to be hurt again.

When he stood close to the wall, the cheeks of his bottom flattened against the cold metal, the panel behind him opened and a lubricated wedge-shaped butt plug was inserted into his anus. He squirmed against it; not out of any masculine desire to impede its progress, but simply because it was too big for his virgin hole. It was pressed slowly into place, with care not to tear him. It was five inches long, widening towards the base, but with a narrow neck. His sphincter stretched slowly wider and wider to accommodate it. It was a strange feeling – like trying to pass a very large, hard stool after a few days of dehydration. Then his sphincter snapped shut on the neck of the plug, holding it inside him.

The others watched him, both curious, but at the same time overpowered by their own arousal. His writhing had a different motion to theirs. Theirs was the wriggling of horny teenagers desperate to get out of class for a recess jack off in the school bathroom. His was clearly the squirming of someone being anally invaded.

Dillon wondered if Stewie was receiving the same dildo that he had become familiar with. He was both jealous and relieved. His day of milking had been incredibly erotic, but being forced to ejaculate more than 30 times in a single day had left his nuts exhausted and the base of his penis aching for many, many hours.

Jake hoped that Stewie WAS receiving another vibrator. It was s selfish thought, but watching Dillon riding the vibrator yesterday was an incredible turn on. Just two weeks ago, Jake had been a virile heterosexual male, but in just 14 short days, he had been conditioned to find the sight of his friend impaling himself on a buzzing vibrator a massive turn on.

Of course, everyone was simply happy that they were not being tortured, but with nothing else to occupy their thoughts but the way that they were feeling, and the actions of the other boys in the room, each of them had subconsciously come to associate his own arousal with what he was seeing.

Stewie’s cable was released and he was permitted to step away from the wall.

The plug gave him a strange feeling of fullness. It was a new experience for him. Not quite the same as when he needed to take a crap. The plug’s wet coolness pressed against his insides, and he could feel his hole suckling the neck of the rubber bung.

Everyone waited to see what would happen next. In their experience, activity always led to someone getting to cum or getting punished. They were already desperate to ejaculate, but nothing more happened. Stewie was left standing with his butt plugged, whilst all four of them fidgeted and groaned, hoping that they would soon be offered relief.

At 12.45, Stewie’s cable was released further. The rubber vagina was absent from the centre of the room, so he waited to see what would happen next.

“Forwards,” the voice in the control room said, and Stewie walked to the middle of the room. The plug rubbed against the inside of his rectum as he walked. Now that his sphincter was used to the width of the plug, the sensation of being filled whilst still alien, was not entirely unpleasant to him.

By this stage, Stewie was more or less willing to do anything with anyone if he could just orgasm and avoid more pain.

The voice said, “Kneel.”

Stewie was in no doubt where this was leading, but he knelt without hesitation.  Mike’s cable released and he walked to the middle of the room without prompting. He looked down at Stewie kneeling before him, hoping that his friend would soon be ordered to fellate him.

“Lick,” the voice on the speaker said without inflection.

Stewie looked at Mike’s cock. It was short and thin. The glans was bloated and shiny. Stewie had  never seen an erection this close up.He realised that the deep purple head was not as perfectly smooth as it had at first appeared; it was completely covered with tiny indentions, like hammered metal. Stewie was fascinated. There was a dribble of precum hanging stickily down a couple of inches from the eye. Mike moved his hips slightly towards Stewie’s face, inviting his friend to comply with the voice. He was eager for release, and he didn’t much care how it came.

Stewie saw the drool swing towards him, bright and shiny as it sparkled in the overhead light. Without thinking, he poked out his tongue and caught it before it could swing away again, curling his tongue and lapping upwards towards Mike’s helmet in one smooth motion. The juice pooled in the curve of his tongue. Stewie was surprise that the liquid had a slightly sweet taste. It was not in keeping with what he’d heard girls say.

As his tongue slid across the underside of Mike’s glans, Mike shivered and let out a gentle, trembling sigh, “Oh-h-h-h-h,” as his body instantly responded to the stimulation.

Stewie heard the noise and teased at his friend, running the rough surface of his tongue back and forth along the underside of Mike’s penis, flickering across the arrow-shaped convergence of the two hemispheres of the cock-head like snake sampling the air. He teased his friend’s tight fraenulum.

Even though he had only be physically stimulated for twenty seconds, Mike started slowly air-humping. Stewie moved his head back, tantalising the standing boy, and denying him the quick release he desired.

In the control centre, Stewie’s stimulator was turned off. Stewie was too pre-occupied to notice, but his penis remained hard as he dedicated himself to pleasuring Mike.

Stewie never for a second considered refusing the commands given by the voice, but with his asshole filled and his own cock throbbing and eager, it felt to Stewie as though giving Mike pleasure would someone lead to his own sexual release. It wasn’t exactly that he expected a blow job in return, but in an irrational way he felt as though he was licking his own penis, that his effort to do a good job was an investment that he would somehow receive when his turn came.

Mike moved towards him, greedy for more attention. Stewie gave him some of what he wanted, but not everything. He lapped at the back of Mike’s dick in long  strokes, like a dog licking its owner’s face. Starting from the metal band that encircled Mike’s balls, and travelling  all the way up to the tip of his penis, Stewie coated the teenager’s slender cock in saliva, but he minimised the attention he paid to the teenager’s glans, so that Mike couldn’t get off too quickly.

“Now suck,” the voice commanded, “and swallow it all when he cums,” the voice added.

Stewie obeyed, wrapping his mouth around Mike’s penis. He’d seen enough internet porn to know what was expected, and he wanted to please the voice by pleasing Mike. He started bobbing his face up and down on Mike’s cock, and Mike immediately winced, pulling his groin sharply away from Stewie’s mouth. Stewie looked up at his friend bewildered.

“Teeth,” Mike said, keeping his explanation succinct so that Stewie could resume.

Stewie grinned sheepishly.

“Sorry, it’s my first blowjob.”

It was a detail that one didn’t necessarily appreciate simply from watching blowjobs. He puckered his lips, covering his teeth, and resumed his fellatio, his head bouncing like a kid bobbing for apples. His tongue was flickering back and forth inside his mouth, titillating Mike’s glans whenever it was in reach.

Jake and Dillon watched, horny and fascinated as Stewie gave the sort of blowjob that the most attentive girlfriend might lavish. The small part of Dillon that was still rational beyond his lust, was amazed that his heterosexual friend was applying himself to the task with such gusto. Jake felt nothing but pure lust as he watched, hoping desperately that he would receive the same attention. His thoughts were not preoccupied with pointless ponderings about morality or sexuality, all he wanted was to get a blowjob just like Mike was receving.

In next to no time, Mike started thrusting into Stewie’s face again, and this time Stewie allowed it. Mike’s pace accelerated, and he pumped deeper with each stroke, until Stewie was not so much fellating Mike, as being face fucked by him.

“Cumming,” Mike announced, and without disrupting  his cadence, he squirted a five-day load into Stewie’s mouth. Most of it bypassed Stewie’s tongue, and was squirted to the back of his throat. The warm gloop hit Stewie’s uvula; the dangly node at the back of his throat, and Stewie had to suppress his gag reaction. He was breathing through his nose, and with his mouth open he was unable to swallow as long as Mike was still humping him. It felt as though Mike deposited half a cupful of warm jizz into his mouth, and for a few moments, Stewie because fully self-aware. A fleeting sensation of self-disgust entered his mind but he immediately pushed the thought away for the sake of his sanity. He had no choice in what he was doing, but if he did it well, he hoped that it might earn him favour.

Eventually, Mike withdrew his rigid member and Stewie swallowed what his friend had deposited in his mouth. There was so much that took three gulps to get it all down…

 The cable around Mike’s scrotum gently tugged him back to his wall, and he went, well satisfied by what had just transpired.

From his wall, Jake was breathing heavily, eyes as big as saucers as he watched Mike using Stewie’s mouth. He desperately hoped that he would be given the same opportunity. He didn’t care that Stewie was being forced to suck them off. All he cared about right now was getting some for himself. His cable loosened and he made a beeline towards Stewie; a child racing to the tree on Christmas morning. Stewie turned to meet him, the slightly cloying taste of Mike’s spunk on his tongue. He swallowed hard repeatedly, scouring his tongue against the roof of his palate to clear the last residue of Mike’s slime from it. Although he wasn’t conscious of the thought, Stewie was not simply clearing Mike’s semen away because he didn’t like the texture on his tongue – he was doing so because he was curious to taste Jake’s penis. Stewie’s own penis was still standing up rigid. His subconscious had rapidly come to equate his friends’ sexual pleasure with his own. He knelt up waiting to receive Jake’s penis with something akin to excitement. He wanted to please his friend; to make Jake feels as good as Mike had. He felt an irrational pride in how much and how powerfully Mike had ejaculated. Now he wanted to do the same to Jake.

Jake arrived in front of him, and both Jake and Stewie looked up to the ceiling camera, seeking permission to begin. The man in the control booth smiled to his colleague.

“Horny little fuckers can’t wait to get started!”

“Yeah, they’re all the same,” the other man agreed. “Looks like you’ll be ready for a new batch soon. Another batch of wrestlers, or swim team next time?”

“Oh I don’t know, let’s be creative. How about gymnasts. Or boy scouts??”

The procurer smiled.

The controller spoke into the mike.

“Suck. Pull out just as you’re about to cum. We want to see your cumshot.”

Across the world, a network of voyeurs had 16 hours of daily access to the video feed. On a separate channel, the clients could tune into the highlights show. The video was routed via a transmitter connected to high-altitude stealth-enabled balloon that was constantly on the move, making it impossible for the government to track. The idea had been borrowed from international copyright thieves The Pirate Bay, who pioneered the idea and sold the technology on via Eastern European contacts to The Club. The clients could also make suggestions or give feedback via a secured chat forum. But right now, bidding had opened on Stewie. He was ready, and all over the world, men were bidding on the right to own him. Bidding currently stood at $273,000.

Stewie of course, didn’t know any of that. All he knew, was that he wanted to give Jake the blowjob of his life. That wasn’t saying much, because none of them had had a great deal of sex, let alone a vast number of blowjobs to compare against. But Stewie had an advantage that the girls never had: the testicle collar that ringed Jake’s scrotum was also sending an electrical current to his balls that drove him wild with lust. Furthermore, the collar Jake was wearing transmitted a signal to his brain that both lowered his inhibitions and increased his libido. As if that wasn’t enough, the food and drink that they had been consuming was laced with so many sexual stimulants that it could have given a 90 year old eunuch wood!

But the boys didn’t know that they were being subjected to an intensive program designed to break down their emotional barriers. Of course, they could feel the humming in their balls when the stimulators were turned on, but they didn’t realise that the very physiology of their bodies was being altered to turn them into drooling sex maniacs. All they knew, is that they wanted to cum, again, and again. And they wanted to do whatever made that experience more pleasurable.

Right now, Stewie was repeating the performance he had given with Mike. Jake was slowly gyrating his hips. He wanted to cum desperately, but a small part of him didn’t want it to be over quickly.  Stewie had quickly learned to read the small tremors and groans and thrusts that told him when he was hitting the right spots, or using his lips and tongue in the best way. It became of battle of wills, as Jake tried to prolong his orgasm and Stewie forced him towards it: it was always a battle that Jake was always going to lose.

Stewie moved his lips to and fro across the rim of Jake’s glans, using shorter strokes than he had  with Mike. This allowed him to keep his tongue in constant contact with Jake’s glans. He flickered the tip from side to side across the eye of Jake’s urethra. To Jake the sensation was unbearably erotic. It felt as though his balls were swelling, preparing for something, but it was not the usual rushing excitement of an imminent orgasm. Rather it was slow but intense and unique sensation deep in his testicle, almost like burning. It wasn’t painful, but it was maddening and arousing almost beyond endurance. Jake was tormented by lust. Now he wanted it to be over. These new feelings were more than he could bear.

Stewie’s tongue slipped to the back of Jake’s glans and Jake flinched as the sensitivity jumped up a notch. Stewie felt the movement, and focussed his tongue on that area. Jake started panting, with short gasping half sobs, his reactions beyond his control. He’d heard that only a man knows how to really give a decent blowjob, and now he was in no doubt. He stopped grinding and started humping Stewie’s face. For the second time in an hour, Stewie allowed his mouth to be used as a pussy.

Dillon watched with intense, rapt interest. It was going to be his turn soon, and just the thought alone made him almost shoot his load. But the stimulators had an optional function: orgasm suppression. Dillon was drooling precum by the cupful, but no matter how turned on he became, he could not reach orgasm without the controller’s consent.

Jake reached the point of no return and he just had enough presence of mind to pull his pelvis away from Stewie’s face as he started to cum. The first four jets were so prolonged that it was more like he was pissing than cumming. Each jet delivering half a tablespoon of jizz. Right onto Stewie’s face. He didn’t  even try to avoid it. He was in his own porno movie and Stewie was his bitch, to be unloaded on for his satisfaction. Stewie shut his eyes as the jizz ran down from his forehead in rivers, but rather than moving away in repulsion, he tilted his chin upwards to receive more of Jake’s “gift”. It was a present Jake was happy to give.

Although the lack of direct stimulation at the crucial moment was frustrating to Jake, he compensated by thrusting his hips forwards in short stabbing movements, unaware that  he was actually massaging his own sphincter as he clenched his buttocks. The movement launched gusher after powerful gusher, all onto Stewie’s waiting face. Stewie was like a pagan sun worshipper rapturously looking up at the first warm rays after a long winter. He was delighted to have driven Jake to such ecstasy.

Eventually, Jake stopped squirting, and his body ceased moving. He opened eyes that had been closed in euphoria and looked down at his friend. Stewie was drenched with thick creamy spunk. Jake had seen dozens of facials in porn videos, but none had come close to soaking the receiver with such a tsunami of jizz as he was now looking at. He was both amazed and gratified by the unbelievable volume of semen that he had produced. He felt a sense of jubilant triumph at his emphatic display of manhood.

Stewie’s mouth was slightly ajar and he was licking at the cum that had run down to his lips. He had a half smile on his face. Jake’s spunk was his now. He had made his friend do that. He tasted his friend’s splooge. It was subtly different to Mike’s – more metallic, more savoury. He wondered what Dillon’s would taste like. He half opened his eyes but they were all gloopy with spunk, and his hands were still secured behind his back so he had no way of wiping it off. He closed his eyes to wait whilst  it dried or ran off his face.

“Lick it all off and swallow it,” the voice said.

Stewie frowned. He would never be able to reach it all, but he stuck out his tongue and licked in a big circle around his lips.

“Not you, the one that just came,” the voice said.

Jake looked down at Stewie, and the thought of licking all that mess off repulsed him, but painful experience had taught him not to defy the voice. He dropped to his knees and started licking his own cum from Stewie’s chin. Stewie’s face was still upturned. All of a sudden, Jake was less pleased about his gargantuan cum shot.

He continued slurping and vacuuming his own cum into his mouth and swallowing it with disgust. He lapped at Stewie’s forehead, even his eyelids, working his way all over his friend’s face cleaning away his massive discharge. Like most boys, Jake had sampled a tiny amount of his own semen after masturbating when he was younger, simply out of curiosity. It wasn’t an experience he had particularly felt compelled to repeat, but now he was forced to drink down a vast gunky mass of the stuff. He swallowed it with all the gusto of a young child swallowing unpleasant medicine.

He saved Stewie’s mouth till last. In spite of all that had happened, it still seemed more intimate than anywhere else. As he finally licked over Stewie’s lips, Stewie surprised him by leaning forwards  and giving him an open-mouthed kiss. Jake recoiled slightly, shocked by the unexpected action, but Stewie went with him, massaging with his lips as he went, and leaning against him. Their cocks touched. They were both still hard. Jake felt a little thrill run through his groin as his wet cock brushed against Stewie’s. He stopped resisting, and allowed Stewie to kiss him. Stewie was hungry for it, and his kiss was passionate. He pushed his tongue into Jake’s mouth. There was still cum on Jake’s tongue that he had not swallowed. Stewie sloshed it around in Jake’s mouth with his tongue, then took it from him greedily and Jake was glad to let him have it.

The controller allowed the boys to continue. Stewie had become a great little cum whore in short order. He ground his dripping cock against Jake’s and Jake pushed back against him. Jake’s stimulator was still turned on, but Stewie no longer required any such incentive. He was kissing like a man who’d been in solitary for a year. He was urgent, strident, passionate; almost frantic. Jake was a little overwhelmed, but he still felt horny. He started to grind with more enthusiasm. He was past the point where he cared which gender he made out with so long as it resulted in a happy ending.

The controller smiled with satisfaction. It was always satisfying to see a heterosexual boy surrendering so totally to homosexual lust. It was a straight man’s worst nightmare, but they all – ALL ended up with a strong desire for cock after a while in the steel room. Most males were surprisingly easy to turn, as these boys had been. Although Stewie had taken to his new sexual paradigm more completely, more rapidly than most. The sensitive ones often did. The controller wondered if Stewie had always been a closet homosexual, or if he was completely straight, as the procurer had promised. The customers preferred straight boys. It was something about their innocence of gay sex that turned the buyers on. The clients were wealthy enough to go hire a rent boy any time, but to subvert a male who defined himself by his sexuality; well that was a whole new level of enjoyment.

Some liked their property fully broken, others preferred them wild and still straight. But it was clear from the bidding, that Stewie was very popular indeed.

The longer they kissed, the more that Stewie liked the taste of Jake’s jism in his mouth. As it broke down in the saliva that both were copiously producing, it lost its slimy insipidness and he could appreciate the subtle nuances of its flavour.

But his primary focus was on his own cock. He loved the feel of Jake’s prick against his own. He loved its veiny hardness. He took it as a vote of confidence because it reminded him that Jake was as turned on as he was. He pressed the rigid lengths of their penises together, enjoying the bulk of Jake’s penis against him. He rolled his hips up, and his penis rubbed upwards against Jake’s, pulling his already retracted foreskin even tighter, then he rolled his hips in the opposite direction, half sheathing his dick, and unskinning Jake fully in the process. He repeated the motion slowly time after time, using the delicate sheathing and unsheathing to maintain his excitement without crossing the threshold and climaxing too quickly.

His pace gradually increased, and it wasn’t long before his penis slipped to the side of Jake’s so that they were now grinding against each other’s bellies. It wasn’t as sensuous but it provided far more stimulation. Both boys instinctively picked up the tempo, synchronising their rhythm together. Jake was really getting into the tongue wrestling. His eyes were closed, and now Stewie was simply another partner. Both boys were clenching and contracting their buttocks in perfect harmony, and humping up against each other. Dillon could see their leanly muscled buttocks as they alternated between the concave dimples of contracted muscles, and the soft curves of their bottoms when they relaxed. It was a mesmerising transformation, and he watched in wide-eyed wonderment, licking his lips just the slightest bit as he gained a new appreciation for the male body. In his mind, strictly speaking it should have been his turn right after Jake came, without all the cleanup and the second go, but Dillon was enjoying the show.

Jake had given himself totally to the experience now, when he felt warm wetness as Stewie deposited a huge load on his belly. The thought excited him tremendously, pushing him over the edge, and he came a second time, just seconds after Stewie. Both boys continued grinding and Jake could feel Stewie’s spunk dribbling down the crease of his de-pubed groin. Stewie’s cock was sliding in it, turning it to foam against his groin. It acted as lube against the side of Stewie’s cock. There was something deeply erotic about feeling another boy’s jizz being rubbed into his groin. It was as though Stewie was becoming a part of him. As though the jizz was being absorbed through the side of his cock and the smoothness of his shaved pubis. Sharing his maleness. Jake’s feelings were primal; undefined. Just as a dog scent marks its territory without really considering the deeper motivation, he felt as though Stewie was declaring his ownership. It was a strange synergy. When Stewie had sucked him, and then willingly accepted his load on his face, Jake felt like the alpha, establishing who was the bitch and who was the dog. It was exactly the role he saw himself in around his friends. But now, somehow, the dynamic had been subtly reversed, and it was Stewie’s turn to deposit HIS seed on Jake. Jake felt as though Stewie had skilfully manipulated him into surrendering his dominance, yet he couldn’t feel angry or even unhappy about it. The only feeling in Jake’s mind was a sense of wellbeing, as he gradually came down after his second orgasm.

The testicle cable tugged him gently but irresistibly back to his wall, and both he and Stewie looked at each other with warm affection of two people who had shared and deeply enjoyed intimacy together.

Stewie could  easily have developed post orgasm remorse, but whenever his mind started to ask what the fuck he was doing with another boy, he simply reminded himself that he had no choice, and let his thoughts slip back into the role that the controllers has created for him. It helped that both Mike and Jake had both committed so totally to their roles, without so much as a trace of guilt.

Stewie turned towards Dillon. It was clear that he still had more to do. Now that he’d cum, he was less enthusiastic about fellating the only boy in the room who had yet to cum, but it seemed inevitable, and sure enough, he saw Dillon walking towards him grinning, as his cable was released. Dillon’s rigid cock lead the way like a compass pointing north. It bounced, at a right angle to his body, and he followed where it pointed. His eyes were bright with excitement. Going last was an incredible torment, but it did mean that he got to see the others put on one hell of a show for him.

Stewie opened his lips, in readiness to receive Dillon’s cock. Dillon moved gleefully to insert it into his mouth, and just as it was about to touch Stewie’s lips, his cable contracted, yanking him backwards at freight train velocity towards the wall. Stewie saw the shock registering on his friend’s face, as he flew backwards through the air, utterly surprised, in spite of the fact this had had happened multiple times during the fortnight that they had all been in captivity. Dillon’s single-minded lust had caused him to overlook the fact that their captors liked to play cruel games, but he was instantly brought down to earth, figuratively and literally.

The control room knew precisely how much forced could be applied to the human scrotum without causing permanent  damage, and the backwards pressure applied to Dillon’s balls was just a fraction short of that amount. As his butt hit the floor, he instinctively curled into a foetal position, even though he was still being dragged backwards by his nuts. The cable stopped contracting a few feet from the wall and Dillon lay there crippled with pain. With his arms behind his back, he couldn’t even cup himself. The others looked at him. Although his refusal to suck Jake the week before had caused them all a lot of pain, they were sympathetic, and his pain reminded them in no uncertain terms, that they were they playthings of sadistic people who were as likely to torture them as to allow them pleasure.

Dillon lay sobbing in pain for several hours, and then something truly unexpected happened. Two men entered the room carrying what appeared to be a huge metal flight case. They placed it on the floor in front of Stewie and opened it. It was lined with high density foam, and there was a shape cut out of the foam; the shape of a person standing to attention with his arms by his sides. In another cutout, there was a gas bottle, like a huge diver’s air bottle.

Stewie looked at it in dread.

One of the men said, “You’re done here now. You’re going on a little trip.”

“What do you mean? What sort of trip?” Stewie asked fearfully.

Their predicament was bad enough, but the thought of being separated from his friends was terrifying. The thought occurred that “a little trip” might be a euphemism for killing him.

“Please don’t hurt me. I’ve done everything you’ve told me to do.”

“Settle down kid, nobody’s going to hurt you. You’ve done exactly what you were supposed to, and now somebody wants to meet you. Now shut up with the question and turn around.”

Stewie had a million and one more questions, but he didn’t dare to disobey. He turned, and the man unclipped the powered cable from the scrotum cuff, replacing it with a much shorter piece of wire. The man pulled the wire tight up Stewie’s back, pulling the boy’s balls between his legs and up towards his asshole, forcing his penis to point towards the floor, then he connected the wire to the collar that Stewie was wearing. Stewie could feel the wire between the cheeks of his buttocks, holding the butt plug that he’d been wearing all day, tightly in place. His balls were stretched to their limit, and his foreskin was retracted by the tension. He tried to look down at himself, but as soon as he did, the wire pulled on his already aching balls.

The men picked Stewie up; one holding him by the back of his knees, and the other lifting his torso, then placed him into the case like an Action Man doll in its box. They pulled canvas straps from the  sides of the cutout shape and wrapped them around Stewie at his chest, waist, and knees and pulled them tight.

The man in charge picked up face mask that was attached by a thin clear hose to the gas bottle, and placed it over Stewie’s face. The man held the mask over the boy’s face, whilst his colleague strapped it into place. Once the mask was secured, there was no possibility of Stewie shaking it loose. For a moment, there was no air in the mask, and Stewie panicked and tried to turn his head away, begging for mercy, his voice muffled behind the pliable transparent rubber. But it was too late.

The head technician twisted the valve on the gas bottle to a predetermined position and a mixture of air and sedative flowed into the mask. Stewie tried to hold his breath, but with the heightened adrenaline of his fear, he didn’t even last 30 seconds before he was forced to take a big gasp. The moment he did so, he started to calm down. Suddenly nothing seemed quite as important or threatening. Nevertheless, he tried to hold his breath again, as though a single lungful might not contaminate him. He didn’t even manage 10 seconds the second time, before taking in a bigger lungful, and then he was gone. His expression mellowed and he stared vacantly into space ahead of him, as though he was in a trance. His breathing slowed and in next to no time, he was taking calm, steady breaths.

The technician leaned down and gripped Stewie’s penis, then inserted an inch long rubber sound into his urethra. He twisted a nut on the end of the sound, and a bulb at the end expanded to fill Stewie’s urethra so that he couldn’t urinate, intentionally or otherwise, until it was removed.

The man repositioned Stewie’s penis so that it was lying between his thighs facing straight down.

“Gotta make sure they look pretty when they arrive!” he joked to his colleague.

The other man laughed dutifully and attached an adhesive wireless heart monitor to Stewie’s chest. He looked at a handset to confirm that the monitor was working properly. Next, he pulled a large piece of transparent rubber out of the lid of the case. It was a full body wrap made out of similar rubber as the face mask, although it was more elastic. The two technicians stretched it so that it completely surrounded the front of the boy resting tranquilly in front of them. He looked as though he was being prepared for stasis in a science fiction movie.

“That’s it. Safe and sound. All ready for transport,” the senior technician announced, closing the lid on the flight case. He snapped shut three clips on the side of the case, and the two men left, taking Stewie with them.

The other boys looked at the vacant space, momentarily silenced by the enormity of what had happened.

Then the light went out.

Conditioning – Chapter 8 Day 16

The next morning, the boys woke up to find a new body slumped unconscious where Stewie had been. Nobody heard him being delivered, but now the metal room was restored to full capacity.

The boy was very pale skinned, in good shape, with brown hair. He lay on his side facing towards the wall, his body curled into a C shape, not quite in a foetal position. The others could see a cable passing between his closed legs from behind and they assumed correctly, that it connected to a ring cuffed around his scrotum, just as they were secured. The person was breathing slowly, still under the influence of the tranquiliser that had been used to collect him.

“They didn’t waste any time,” Mike said. “I wonder who he is.”

Dillon was opposite the newcomer.

“Let’s wake him up. Maybe he knows something about where we are or what happened to Stewie.”

“Nah, leave him alone,” Mike said, “We can talk to him soon enough. This is the last time he’s gonna be that comfortable for…”

He trailed off. He didn’t know how long for. Would any of them eventually be freed? Or was this to be their existence forever now – secured by the testicles, turned on at the whim of an unseen controller. Forced to perform sex acts for the camera.

Dillon and Jake understood why Mike had left the sentence unfinished. It was the chief uncertainty in all of their minds – doubled now that Stewie had been taken away. They had all been tortured, humiliated and violated, but it would be worth it all to know that they would eventually be freed. But their captors were not talking, except to issue commands. Commands that the boys dared not disobey.

Breakfast was delivered and placed on the floor in front of each of them, excluding the unconscious boy. Mike, Jake and Dillon moved onto their knees and started to eat, forced to do so like dogs with their hands tied behind them and their faces in their bowls. For the past week, their testicle cuffs had been pulled tighter than usual at feeding time, forcing them to lift their butts high with their balls stretched far back between their legs, protruding like glistening red Christmas baubles. Today, Mike’s were even tighter. As he leaned forwards to eat, the wire attached to his balls was slowly drawn even tighter. He timidly leaned towards his food, nervous that the wire would explosively contract, dragging him agonisingly back to the hole in the wall from where it emanated. It wouldn’t be the first time. But this time that never happened. He was pulled just far enough so that he couldn’t reach his mouth to his food. He tried forcing it, stretching until his balls were at their utmost, stomach aching limit, but he was still a couple of inches short. In the end, the only way that he could gain the extra inches was to lift one leg above the cable, enabling him to angle his body a few degrees and start eating.

He heard a sniggering and lifted his head. It was Dillon. Jake looked at him quizzically.

“I’m sorry dude, but you look like a dog taking a pee.”

Jake scowled at him, but on the internet, bids starting coming in from the puppy crowd.

Jake returned to his awkward breakfast, but before any of them could finish, they were interrupted by a new voice.

“Who are you? What am I doing here?”

It was the newcomer. His voice was still thick and slow from the tranquiliser, but now that he was conscious, fear and adrenaline was quickly counteracting the last of its effects.

The other three turned to him. Jake wriggled back closer to the wall where he could kneel more comfortably.

“I’m Mike,” Mike nodded to Dillon to his left,  “that’s Dillon, and that’s Jake. I don’t know what you’re doing here. We were hoping you could tell US something.”

The boy was sitting up, his back against the wall, knees drawn up to protect his modesty. He ignored Mike’s question.

“Why am I naked?”

“Dude, we’re ALL naked.”

“But why. How did I get here?” He looked down at his lap. “And why the FUCK is there a metal ring tied to my nuts?!”

“Dude calm down. Getting angry isn’t going to help. We all woke up here two weeks ago exactly the same as you.”

“Two weeks!”

“Yeah, a bit longer actually.”

“Have you tried to escape?”

“Escape?” Dillon interjected. “How?! Our arms are tied tight behind our backs and we’re wired by our balls to the walls. If we do ANYTHING that they don’t like, we get punished.”

“P… punished?” the boy asked, a little of the steam leaving his sails. “H… h… how?”

His childhood stammer was returning.

“Painfully. Very painfully. You don’t want to know how. All I’m saying is, you’d better do what they say, or WE ALL suffer.”

The boy fell into silence, momentarily stunned by the news.

As the boy and Dillon had their exchange, Jake was scrutinising the kid closely. He was fresh faced, square jawed, and he looked a little younger than the rest of them. And there was something familiar about him.

“How old are you?” Jake asked.

The boy frowned, surprised by the question.

“18. How old are you?”

“We’re all 19,” Mike answered.

Jake continued staring at the boy.

“There’s something familiar about you. I know you from somewhere. Do you live in Bloomington?”

“No,” the boy replied, unwilling to proffer any personal information.

Dillon and Mike were looking him more closely now as well. The boy was starting to blush, uncomfortable under their scrutiny. Jake was staring at the boy’s thick pouty lips and startling blue eyes.

“Wait a minute, I’ve seen you one the internet. Youtube, no Vine. You’re that kid with a million followers.”

“12 million actually,” the kid responded instinctively.

“12 million?! Holy shit!” Dillon said.

Jake persisted, “Yeah, Hugh, Haye, Hayes, something like that.”

“It’s NASH actually,” the boy said indignantly. “Hayes is my little brother.”

“Oh yeah, dammmmn,” Mike added.

Dillon gave a skewed leer. It made Nash’s skin crawl.

“What? What was that look for?”

“I just remembered something that’s all.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Nash demanded, eyes wide as he became increasingly alarmed.

“You pissed off half the internet by calling someone a fag didn’t you?!”

“No! I mean, I wasn’t calling an actual person a fag. I was just kidding around. I was in a bad place then,” Nash said, going into the damage limitation excuses he’d given when he was called on his gay slur a year ago. It had cost him a million followers, but he was way past that now.

“You don’t like gays?” Dillon said. “Then you are NOT going to be happy here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!!!” Nash demanded.

“Well, there’s four naked guys in a room with a camera in the roof. See if you can figure it out kid.”

“There’s no FUCKING WAY I’m doing any queer stuff,” Nash shouted, his true prejudices returning in an instant.

“You’ll do whatever they tell you. They’ve got ways of making you. The sooner you give in, the less painful it is. For all of us.”

Nash glared in silence at Dillon across the room for a few moments. He felt sick to his stomach. He acted tough around his friends, but he wasn’t especially brave or even particularly emotionally strong.

Eventually he asked, “Is that why I’m here? Is someone still pissed off about it?”

He was looking panicked.

“No I don’t think so,” Mike said. “At least… Well, none of us have pissed off any gay guys that I know of.”

“How did you get here?” Nash asked.

“We were drinking on the beach. Spring break. Then we woke up here. I think someone must have spiked our drinks. What about you?”

“Nothing like that. I had a normal day at school, then I came home, played video games, went to bed and woke up here.”

In fact Nash had been collected directly from his home. It was a high risk operation, but he was special. A lot of people wanted to see him. Wanted to see him broken.

The others mulled over the information. The fact that their captors were willing and able to kidnap an international personality right out of his own bed was worrying. It meant that they were even more powerful than any of them had suspected.

“Ah, ahhhhh!”

Nash was yelling with a look of panic on his face again.

“What, what’s wrong?”

Nash was writhing, struggling to rise to his knees.

“It’s pulling my balls!” he responded, alarmed.

“Oh yeah, that,” Jake said, almost bemused. “Just go with it. Stand up.”

Nash clambered awkwardly to his feet as the cable retracted slowly into a hole in the wall at the height of his balls. The others watched. Nash tried to turn away from the others to protect his modesty, but as the cable tightened into the wall he was unable to remain turned away.

The cable stopped pulling and Nash stood, butt pressed against the cool metal, genitals displayed for all to see. He looked down at his nudity, wishing that he hadn’t shaved his pubes. He glanced at the others, and saw that each of them was bald as a billiard ball as well. It made it a little easier. But they all had something he didn’t – man-sized genitals. Nash still had a pubescent boy prick – two and half inches long, slender, like a soft thumb between his legs, with a long, moist, puckered foreskin. Poking out of his pubis rather than hanging, made perky by the cold and his fear. His hazelnut-sized testicles hung in a soft, wrinkled, teardrop scrotum, an inch below the end of his overlong foreskin. They’d had to find a smaller cuff to prevent his testicles from simply sliding out.

The others all had the dark genital skin-colour of sexual maturity, whilst his were as white as his pale belly. It was his big secret – the reason that he never went nude around the other members of MAGCON, and not even his younger brother Hayes. When Hayes was just 13, he had pranked his 15-year-old Nash by resting his scrotum on Nash’s game controller, and whilst Nash had been angry, he was also secretly jealous of the fact that his younger brother already had man-sized nuts and surprisingly thick five-inch cock.

Nash was humiliated by the small size of his genitals. His voice had dropped four years ago, but his genitals just seemed not to have grown much since he was 12 or 13. He assumed that he was late bloomer, but now, as he was on the verge of adulthood, and the anticipated growth had not happened, he reluctantly had to face the fact that this might be as big as he got. Hayes might be the youngest of the brothers, but when it came to the penis department, Nash was the baby and he knew it. It was why he was so aggressive all the time: even why he was homophobic. Massive overcompensation in an attempt to show the masculinity that his petite genitals were lacking.

Nash looked up and was mortified to see that the others were all staring at his groin. He tried to turn away, but the instant jerk to his nuts stopped him in his tracks.

“Why are you all looking at me?! Stop looking at me!”  he said aggressively.

“Calm down kid,” Mike said. “Being looked at is the least of your worries. We’re all wondering whether we’re going to have to suck your dick or you’re going to fuck us with it.”

“WHAT?!!!!”

Nash was horrified as Mike explained, and seeing the other two chuckle, not at the funny joke, but in agreement only served to reinforce what he had just said.

“NOBODY’S sucking my dick – at least no guy. You fag… you guys can get that out of your heads right now!”

Dillon grinned at him wanly. His own refusal to perform for their captors had cost him and his friends a lot of pain.

“You’ll do it or we all get our nuts pulled off. Or worse. You think you can resist but they’ve got ways of forcing you.”

“There’s no way that I’m doing any of that queer stuff. I’d sooner die,” Nash insisted.

When he was 12, he and a close friend had started experimenting together. It started with masturbation watching porn and reading mags together, then mutual masturbation, then he’d let his more adventurous friend suck his dick. Eventually, he’d even consented to a 69. They both sucked each other’s dicks and he’d loved it, in spite of his Christian upbringing. But afterwards, when he got home, he was sure that everyone could tell. When he kissed his mother on the cheek, he couldn’t push the image of his friend’s dick from his mind: the feel of his dick. The eager hardness, and now it felt like he was betraying his mother by kissing her with the same mouth. It was the last time that he kissed her. She thought he’d simply grown too old to kiss his mom. When he saw his older brother, already a high school football star, young Nash was sure that he could tell just by looking, that he’d been sucking dick. He was deeply, acutely ashamed for months. He never saw his friend again, and he certainly never, EVER engaged in male-on-male sexual activity again. But now he was being told that he was going to, whether he wanted to or not. Years of repression and fake tough guy posturing finally failed him. He looked at Dillon, his brows furrowed, he sniffled through his nose, his full lips tightened into a bud forming a puckered sphincter in place of a mouth, and tears of helplessness trickled silently, pitifully down his forlorn face.

Then he felt the tingling in his testicles as the current was turned on. He looked at Jake, alarmed.

“Something’s happening to my nuts. A buzzing.”

“Like a tingling feeling?” Jake asked.

Nash nodded.

“Don’t sweat it. It’s just how they give you a boner.”

“A what?!” Nash said, “Can I stop it?”

“Nope, nothing you can do.”

“But why do they…”

To his dismay, his dick was getting hard. The sensation interrupted his train of thought. He looked down at it in horror as it stiffened, and tried again to shield himself from the others. This time he pulled even harder against the testicle cuff, reasoning that the pain would kill his hard on. But it didn’t. He could barely turn 15% before the pain was unbearable, but still his dick kept rising. The skin stretched, and went shiny as it yearned skywards like a cocky baseball player pointing out the shot he was about to make. It was a unique experience for him to have this much ball pain and a hard on at the same time.

He was the only member of his family not to be circumcised. It made him feel out of place and added to his sense of freakishness. He’d asked his dad about it when he was boy, and his father told him that it was because he and his mother had been having two minds about the morality of having their boys mutilated when he was born. His father hid the real reason – that his penis had been too tiny up until the age of five, to risk the procedure. They feared that Nash would grow up with a micro penis, and there was even a chance that he might require a medical intervention once he completed puberty, but then it started to grow, and once it surpassed the level of being considered abnormally tiny, his parents breathed a sigh of relief and stopped monitoring his progress.

He looked down at it now, standing up enthusiastically without a care in the world, its ridiculous, tight anteater snout foreskin still covering its small helmet with ample to spare, four and a half inches of eager meat at attention and ready to fire. His body disgusted him at that moment: the ease with which it could be manipulated. How horny he was feeling.

He looked at Jake.

“Who are they? Why are they doing this?”

“We don’t know who they are or why they do it. All we know is that every day they do something to us, and after a while like that you’re gonna be ready to do almost anything to cum.”

Nash frowned.

“Are you kidding me? It’s only a boner. I sometimes get them for hours in class some days.”

Jake and Dillon looked at each other and an expression passed between that said ‘He doesn’t know what he’s in for’.

“It’s not like a normal boner,” Mike said. “It makes you so horny it drives you crazy. You’ll see.”

Within fifteen minutes, Nash understood exactly what Mike meant. His balls were churning and he was so turned on that it made him feel funny in his stomach. Good funny. It was a sense of sexual anticipation. His balls were pulled up tight against the cuff.

He looked at Jake, concerned.

“How long does this go on for?”

“It’s impossible to tell. Each day is different and each person is different. Usually they make you horny so that you’ll do stuff that they want, but sometimes they just do it to torment you.”

It was not a satisfying answer.

“What’s the longest it’s gone on for then?” Nash pressed.

Jake looked at Mike.

“Didn’t they do it to Stewie all day once?”

Mike nodded.

“Yeah, all day.”

“ALL DAY!” Nash blurted, considerably less circumspect. “I have to stay like this all day?!”

“Like I said,” Jake replied, “there’s no way of knowing.”

Then suddenly Nash realised the implication of what Jake had said.

“Who’s Stewie?”

“He was here before you,” Mike answered. “They took him somewhere yesterday. We don’t know where.”

He was deliberately heading off all lines of questioning. He found the thought of Stewie’s removal too disturbing to want to discuss.

“So how come you guys don’t have boners?” Nash asked, ever the petulant child.

“That’s a good question actually,” Dillon said. “This IS the first time that three of us have been left alone.”

Mike mulled it over.

“Maybe it IS personal,” he said after a while. “After all, they did take him from his own house.”

“Yeah good point,” Jake agreed.

Nash listened with growing dread. The truth was he was an entitled, immature brat and he knew it. His rise to stardom was solely based on his pretty boy good looks, and he’d treated a lot of people like crap – fans, girls, gays, foreigners, teachers, fellow students, and even staff in restaurants and hotels. His looks and natural athleticism had given him a swagger even before his Vine celebrity, but as his fan-base soared into the millions even AFTER his homophobic outburst, he’d started to believe the bullshit about his importance, feeling untouchable. He couldn’t even begin to imagine which of the thousands of people he’d been rude to, or about, might have felt enough of a grudge to do this to him. He was too ashamed to articulate his thoughts on the matter, but he promised whoever could hear his thoughts that if he could just get back to his normal life, he’d be different. He’d treat people better. MUCH better.

In the meantime he stood as the others reclined and chatted and enjoyed their unexpected day off.

Within an hour, Nash was fidgeting uncontrollably as he tried to cope with the lust that was bubbling up from his balls. His puckered foreskin was wet and he felt like he was going to blow his load at any moment. If he could have touched himself, he was certain that he would instantly pop his cork: a bottle of champagne that has been shaken for too long. His sexual shyness was at odds with his otherwise brash nature, and even if he was freed to jack off, it was doubtful that he could overcome his sexual reserve in front of these three older boys and take advantage of it.

At midday, a hole in the floor in the middle of the room opened, and the pink latex pussy on a pole rose from the floor. Nash felt the cable attached to his testicles loosen.

“What’s that?” he asked in a strained voice, fighting against the desire that was consuming his loins.

“You’re supposed to fuck it,” Dillon said dispassionately.

Nash stared to see if Dillon was joking but there was no reason why he should be.

“I’m not fucking that!” he said defiantly.

“It’s up to you. But usually they don’t give you a choice. Even if they do, you’re going to wish you had. You already look like you’re so horny you’re going to have an aneurism.”

It was true. It was a real strain on Nash to be so unbearably horny for this long. And worse still, he was trying not to show it to the others. He was unaware of his constant fidgeting, but he was trying to control his breathing so that he didn’t pant audibly. Such a prolonged effort was making his diaphragm and abs ache.

“If they tell you to fuck it, fuck it or we might all get punished,” Mike said in a tone that was clearly a command rather than a request.

The latex vagina stayed in place for 5 minutes, then silently dropped back into the floor.

“Missed your chance now.”

Dillon understood only too well Nash’s desire not to put on a sexual performance, and he knew only too well that the boy’s will would be broken.

The cable retracted pulling Nash tight back against the wall.

All afternoon he was left on simmer, becoming increasingly distressed by the perfectly calibrated teasing that was keeping him right on the very edge of ejaculating, but not quite allowing him to reach orgasm. By 3.15 in the afternoon, he was rocking his upper body backwards and forth slowly like an asylum resident withdrawn into their own world of pain. But of course, it wasn’t pain he was feeling, it was unresolved lust.

At 4.40 his resolve finally broke and for the second time that day, he started crying, reduced to a child-like grizzling. This time, his lips were pressed together, stretched wide, drawn downwards by his distress. Mike didn’t say anything, but Nash’s expression reminded him of a French sad white-face mime, with its exaggerated expression of sorrow.

“Are you okay?” Jake asked.

Nash looked at him, lifting his tear-filled gaze from the ground where it had been fixed for the past hour.

He was unable to speak normally, but in a whining, drawn out voice, he managed to say, “So………. horny……..”

Jake looked at him with sympathy. They’d all been there, and Nash seemed so much younger than them now.

“Yeah I know buddy, but you’re gonna get through it. If they give you another chance, fuck the pussy. We’ve all done it. There’s no shame dude.”

Nash looked at him like a drowning man watches someone about to throw a life preserver.

At 5.00pm, the pussy rose from the floor again. This time, there was no hesitation when Nash’s cable was released. He shuffled towards the middle of the room and the relief that awaited him. His dick had been rigid for an uninterrupted 8 hours, and it barely moved with each small step forwards that he took. He tugged at the cable, eager to reach the soft rubber pussy sooner. He could see the crimped opening where his dick would enter. It looked soft and inviting. He could almost feel how good it would be on his desperate cock. He shuffled closer and closer, eager now and mindless of the other boys in the room.

Six inches from the pussy, the cable stopped. Nash turned back to the wall and looked at the extended cable; it was stretched taut behind him. He tugged at it, trying to get a little more play from it, and managed to get two more inches.

The others had seen this game before. They said nothing, but they all felt for Nash. To be aroused for so long, then offered relief, only to be denied again so close to release was an unbearable torment. The watchers were rolling out the same tricks that they had used before.

Nash frowned, his tears abated at the prospect of an orgasm.

“I don’t think they’re gonna let you cum kid,” Mike said sympathetically. “It’s one of the games that they like to play.”

Nash stared at Mike, his lips closed, and started huffing through his nose as he fought against tears again. His cheeks puffed and deflated as he struggled not to collapse into all out bawling. It was just one day, and already, his captors had broken him, and revealed him as the child he really was, both sexually and emotionally.

The cable started to retract again slowly. Nash switched his gaze back to the pussy as he was drawn away from it, a drowning man watching a life preserver drifting out of his reach.

When he was back at the wall, a voice from above said, “Suck yourself.”

Nash looked upwards toward the camera in the centre of the room.

“What?”

“Suck yourself.”

Nash watched as much heterosexual porn as the average horny teenager, but auto-fellatio was not something that had ever occurred to him.

“What do you mean?”

“Suck… your… penis…” the voice repeated, enunciating each word, and allowing a long gap between each one so that Nash had time to understand.

Comprehension dawned on Nash’s face, followed by an expression of disgust. He shook his head violently.

“Sick.”

“No. Suck.”

The voice didn’t speak again. Nash was left on simmer until 6pm.

Then the testicle stimulator turned off and his cable was loosened. Food was delivered, and all four boys ate.

Dillon said, “I know it’s disgusting, but I think you’d better try to do whatever they tell you. It can get a lot worse.”

Nash stared at him wordlessly. He didn’t want to ask how.

Then the light went out…

Conditioning  – Chapter 9 Day 17

On day 17 all four boys woke up the moment the light came on. Nash was curled on his side in foetal position facing in towards the room. He had a hard on. At home, he awoke with morning wood more often than not, but not here, he thought, not where everybody could see.

At home, he’d piss it away in the en-suite that divided his room from Hayes’, but here there was no such luxury.

He lay silently, trying to avoid drawing attention to himself and hoping it would go away of its own accord.

“How you doing kid?” Mike asked.

Nash looked at the boy opposite without changing position.

“Okay I guess. Considering.”

“Yeah,” Mike commiserated.

‘Okay considering’ was the best any of them could hope for in their current predicament.

“And please don’t call me ‘kid’. My name is Nash. I’m nearly 17.”

“Sorry dude. Nash,” he quickly corrected.

Nash glanced his three cellmates. None of them had erections but his was still throbbing hard between his legs. He wanted to take a piss but he didn’t want them to see his wood. He felt irrationally as though it would be admitting that he didn’t really mind being naked and chained in front of them; like he was secretly enjoying it.

His bone persistently refused to diminish.

“Ha ha. Morning wood,” Mike said after a few more minutes.

“What?!” Nash demanded.

“You got morning wood.”

Mike was grinning, but there was no malice; no attempt at shaming. It was a simple statement of fact.

All his teenaged life, Nash had played at being the kind of guy who was okay talking about sex stuff, but he had always steered the conversation or left when there was any risk of it turning to his own sexual experience. He wished he was the kind of guy who was comfortable with his body – even with his small dick – but he wasn’t. He lived in fear of being discovered.

 He knew why stars like Cole Sprouse and Justin Beiber allowed their nudes to get “leaked”. If he had a dick like theirs, he’d be sending photos and getting “caught” nude too. Even fellow youtubers and Vine stars like Cameron Dallas and Carter Reynolds; nobodies in the real world, were doing it. But Nash knew with complete certainty that he would never be sending photos of his dick to anyone, or allowing himself to get not-so-accidentally caught naked on vacation.

But now, in this cell, where everybody was a prisoner, he encountered what he had wanted for years – to be amongst guys who wouldn’t humiliate him for his small prick. There were more important things to worry about, and they were all apparently naked against their will.

“Yeah,” he replied to Mike, playing it cool.

“Piss hard on,” Jake added.

“Yeah,” Nash agreed.

They’d already seen his dick hard and soft, and now that they’d all agreed that his erection wasn’t his fault, he felt able to acknowledge it.

He turned to the Arabic squat toilet, kneeled in front of it and pissed until his bladder was empty. With his hands secured behind his back he had no way of effectively shaking the drips off, but he gave a little up and down shimmy with his pelvis to shake off what he could.

“Nice moves Nash.” Dillon said.

“Yeah a real lady killer,“ Mike added.

Nash glanced over his shoulder at them. They were both grinning amiably, and for the first time ever, he truly felt comfortable as part of the boy’s club. He smirked at them.

To his relief, his erection dissipated almost immediately, and he turned and sat down, no longer mortally afraid of being seen naked.

Half an hour later, a man entered carrying four trays of food. He placed the trays in front of Mike and Dillon. As he placed a tray in front of Nash, the boy started talking to him.

“Why am I here?”

The man ignored him.

“Please, have I done something wrong?”

Nothing.

“Please, I’ll do anything. Let me go.”

The man turned and looked at Nash, acknowledging his presence for the first time, and an evil grin spread slowly over his face.

“Yes, you will.”

Nash’s eyes widened with horror and he swallowed hard at the implication. His balls tried to crawl back into body, prevented only by the metal collar that surrounded them. His scrotum tightened as though he was swimming in a cold lake, and deep grooves appeared in the skin. His already unimpressive penis shrivelled still further.

He wanted to say something else but he felt as though anything else he said would be pointless after such a comment. The man turned to walk over to Jake and Nash found his voice.

“Please, I’ve got money!” he said, desperate to open some kind of negotiation.

The man turned and pointedly stared at Nash’s shrunken genitals. He stared for five seconds without saying a word, but it felt like much longer to Nash. At first Nash allowed him to look, refusing to show shame at the size of his genitals. Eventually Nash could bear the scrutiny no longer, and he drew his knees together like a coy geisha. The man looked up at the camera in the centre of the room, then back at Nash and grinned again.

“Not enough.”

He placed the last tray on the floor in front of Jake then left the room.

“What did he mean ‘Not enough’?” Nash asked the others.

Mike shrugged at the double entendre, then gave the briefest of head nods towards the camera, lifting his eyes to emphasise his gesture.

“I guess he means it’s worth more to keep you here.”

Nash felt sick to the pit of his stomach.

After the boys had eaten, all four cables tightened, forcing them to stand with their backs to the wall. Nash looked panicked, but the other three accepted with grim resignation, simply hoping that this wasn’t going to be one of the worse days.

A familiar tingling started up in their testicles and within seconds all of them had powerful erections. An hour later, all four were twisting and fidgeting as they struggled to cope with their unresolved horniness.

At midday, a large panel in the floor opened and a life size rubber model of a male pig rose up from beneath. It was black with a pink blotch on its back. Jake’s cord loosened and he moved away from the wall.

“Fuck,” a voice said from the ceiling speaker.

Jake looked at the pig sceptically, but nevertheless walked towards it, his rigid cock bouncing as he approached. He examined its rear and noticed that its asshole was made of latex. Without looking at the others, he carefully slid his cock into the lubed hole. It was warm inside. His barriers and sexual inhibitions had been destroyed after 17 days of nearly unremitting lust, and after standing with a desperate hard on for 3 hours, he was willing to do almost anything to quell the churning in his nuts.

He pumped a few times experimentally, then crouched and started thrusting into it rythmically. In under a minute, he let out a huge groan of exultation as he started to come. He pounded even faster to increase his pleasure and he deposited a huge load into it.

Nash watched with an expression of undisguised disgust, his features contorted as though he was watching a dog lick up its own vomit.

Then he noticed something that made him even more nauseated. Jake’s cum was dripping slowly from the small rubber pig penis that poked out beneath the fake animal’s belly.

Jake was pulled slowly by his balls away from the rubber pig. His cock was still hard and bouncing and the head was spunk coated. When he reached his wall, the current in his testicle cuff was turned off and he was allowed to sit.

Mike’s cord was loosened and he approached the animal without hesitation and quickly added his own eager deposit to Jake’s. He was returned and it was Dillon’s turn. Although he had been the shyest of the group at first, he approached no more hesitation than Mike, and in 30 seconds his contribution mixed with that of his friends, dribbling from the animal’s small penis, and puddling on the floor.

Nash was filled with revulsion as he watched the three older boys fucking the rubber pig. The fact that it was a pig was disgusting enough, but a MALE? That was just sick beyond belief!

As Dillon returned to his wall, Nash still had not made a decision about whether or not he would fuck it. The others had all done so, so he didn’t have to worry about looking like a freak, but it was just such a repulsive idea. On the other hand, he was unbearably horny…

As it happened, he never had to make the decision. The round bellied pig with its still dripping cock lowered into the floor and the original panel slid back into place. Nash frowned. He remembered a Southpark episode about the local priest molesting all the boys in the neighbourhood. The one boy who was not molested, Stan’s dad, was offended that he had not been deemed cute enough to molest. Nash felt the same sense of anti-climax. Part of him was building up to either fuck the pig or take a stand, and now the decision had been taken away from him.

“Why not me?” he asked the others, so horny he could barely speak.

“You WANTED to fuck it?” Jake asked.

“No but…”

His dick was drooling pre-cum and he was jiggling from one foot to another.

“Don’t try to figure it out,” Dillon said. “Everything is just to fuck with your head. They love to play games.”

Part of Nash wanted to fuck the pig. Part of him wanted to be forced to put his dick where the three older boys had put theirs. To feel his prick sliding off their cum. But it was not a part he consciously recognised.

Five hours later, Nash had still not cum. The others occasionally glanced at him as he writhed in an agony of sexual arousal. His genitals may have been smaller than average, but they were just as capable of feeling horny.

Eventually, at 5 pm, a voice came over the speaker.

“Nash, suck yourself.”

Nash looked up at the speaker his face unhappy.

“I can’t.”

Dillon wondered if that meant he was not physically capable, or that he refused.

“SUCK YOURSELF!”

Nash shook his head and looked at the floor miserably.

A moment later, the other three cables tightened, forcing Jake, Mike and Dillon to rise to their feet.

“We did everything you told us!” Jake screamed at the camera, fearing that they were all going to be hauled off their feet by the balls again. “Please!!”

The cables tightened, pulling four pairs of nuts back between their legs until all four boys were pressed tightly against the cold metal-panelled wall.

Mike shouted at Nash.

“If you can do it, do it now Nash!”

Nash looked at his fellow captives with an expression of horror. It was clear that something bad was about to happen.

A panel in the roof opened and a metal pole lowered into the centre of the room, on the end of the pole was a water cannon nozzle. It turned towards Dillon first and a powerful jet of water hit him in the chest. It felt like someone had kicked him, and worse still the water was ice cold – barely about freezing point. The jet slowly moved up and down his abdomen from his throat to his belly button, spraying him for 30 seconds. He screamed at the cold and the pressure, turning away to shield his eyes.

Then the jet moved across to Mike and repeated the procedure. Mike had already felt the cold water splashing off Dillon, but it was still a brutal shock as it pounded into him. He screamed just as Dillon had, as he struggled to cope with the breath-taking cold.

The jet moved to Jake and drenched him as it had his friends. He was more muscular and carried a little more fat than they did, so he was able to cope with it better than they had, but it still felt as though the hose was trying to drill the life out of him.

Then it was Nash’s turn. The nozzle’s one inch opening turned towards him and he stared at it with trepidation, like a man looking down the barrel of a mugger’s pistol. A valve opened and the jet hit him hard in the chest. He felt as though someone had taken a flying kick. It slammed his shoulders back against the wall, whipping his head back. He grunted as the wind was knocked out of him.  The frigid jet moved down his torso slowly; much slower than it had moved whilst squirting the others. He turned his head away, screaming in fear and pain as the wind was forced from him. He had to tense his torso just to be able to inhale.

The jet continue downwards to the place where his pubes had been, then past to his penis. It was still hard, in spite of the fact that the current had been switched off before the water hit him. His penis was pointing downwards, pulled by the cable dragging his nuts backwards towards the hole. It pointed downwards like a white finger. As the jet of icy water hit it, it flapped from side to side, oscillating dozens of times a second as the water tried to drive it backwards. He looked down. He could feel it flapping but it was moving too fast to see; a small eel squirming between his legs, rooted to his pubis but desperate to be free; desperate to escape the battering water.

Paradoxically, the water jet acted as a massage, preventing him from losing his erection.

Nash instinctively tried to turn away from the battering force of the jet, yanking his own tethered balls and sending an excruciating shock of pain up into abdomen. He tried again and again, his instinctive desire to protect his groin from the violence of the water, short circuiting his need to protect nuts that he could feel but not see.

He lifted his legs, alternating time and again as he tried to use his knees to shield himself, but to no avail. He made the mistake of lifting his right knee too high and the jet hit him in the balls. The pain on his already tortured nuts was agonising.

He screamed and screamed, a small child panicking in terror against the might of an undefeatable foe. The others watched in sympathy as Nash was hosed for five minutes that felt to him like hours.

When the water finally stopped, it took him five further seconds to stop screaming. Then he slumped against the wall as the water canon retracted into the ceiling. He would have slumped to the floor, but the cable attached by a metal ring to the neck of his scrotum stopped him falling.

All four cables slowly loosened, and Nash slid to the ground, immediately curling into a foetal position, crying pitifully. His skin was white from the cold, and covered in goose bumps, except for his groin. That was bright red where the blood had rushed to the surface. His penis shrunken at last, a timid maggot clinging to his groin.

“Nash, are you alright?” Jake asked.

Nash was too traumatised from his five minute pummelling to even register Jake’s voice, much less formulate a response. He was trembling, but whereas Dillon, Mike, and Jake were shivering from the cold, Nash was experiencing the classic symptoms of shell shock.

“NASH!” Jake persisted, but the boy was in a world of his own.

Then the light went out.

Conditioning 10 – Day 18

Nash shivered and trembled in the dark for hours before his body and his mind slowly recovered from the battering he had received from the water cannon. As his body slowly came back under his control, he lay in the dark contemplating his prospects. He knew now that his actions had serious consequences, and not just for him. He first came to that realisation when made his “faggot” comment on Vine and lost over five million followers in the space of a week. Surely this pain, this torture wasn’t just a butthurt fa.. He mentally checked himself. Over the course of a miserable, cold night, Nash went through more introspection than he had the rest of his entire life.

The next morning, the jailer arrived and fed them. After feeding, the testicle cables retracted, forcing each boy to stand. When the jailer returned to collect their trays, he placed a blindfold over Mike’s eyes. Mike stood, apprehensive about the new development. Was he about to be hit? Tormented? Worse?

 The man left the room. Mike heard the heavy door close behind him.

“He’s gone,” Jake said for Mike’s benefit.

“So what’s with the blindfold?” Mike asked in a low voice.

“I dunno Mike,” Jake replied.

The collars around Jake, Dillon and Nash’s testicles started tingling and soon each had a raging erection. Although the older boys were used to it, it did little to ease their immense horniness, and soon enough they were shuffling, moving from foot to foot as each tried to cope with the sensation as best they could.

At 5pm, Mike and Dillon’s cables released. They were panting, and grimacing, desperate for release. Dillon had been the one who had the hardest job letting go of the inhibitions given to him by a religious upbringing, but after two and a half weeks filled with pain and torture, he knew better than to refuse any orders.

A voice came from the ceiling speaker.

“To the middle of the room.”

Dillon moved forwards.

“You too big guy,” the voice said.

Mike walked forwards slowly, like a child approaching his father for a spanking.

When the two boys stood face to face, the voice said, “On your knees hoss.”

Mike knelt down.

“Now suck.”

“It’s me here Mike,” Dillon said, as though the fact it was his friend instead of a stranger would make the upcoming blowjob more palatable.

Mike was the most masculine of the original four boys. He worked out regularly and had a muscular body builder’s physique. But it masked the greatest insecurity. Every fibre of his being screamed against doing something this queer, but having spent one night suspended by his testicles there was nothing that could induce him to risk that… or something worse again. He tentatively opened his mouth and Dillon moved forwards, inserting his penis between his friend’s lips.

Not three weeks ago they were on spring break with Stewie and Jake, getting drunk and getting laid. Now Stewie had been taken away to who-knew-where, and his ultra macho friend was giving him a blowjob. The insanity of the situation crossed Dillon’s mind. He would return to that thought many times in the future but right now he could feel the warmth of his friend’s lips on his shaft and he wanted more.

He pushed his dick further into Mike’s mouth until the head touched Mike’s tongue. Mike withdrew his tongue in disgust as he felt the precum drooling from the eye of Dillon’s dick.

“The sooner you do it, the sooner it’ll be over,” Dillon said softly, as much for his own selfish reasons as to ease Mike’s reluctance.

Mike started sucking his friend’s penis ineptly, and Dillon started grinding his groin against Mike’s face.

Nash watched in disgust, but he couldn’t help but ponder how good the experience must feel. Despite his online bravado, Nash was a virgin, and looking at the expression of pleasure on Dillon’s face, the blowjob felt pretty good. Nash’s dick was so hard it hurt.

Without warning, Dillon came in Mike’s mouth. Mike recoiled, spitting out the massive load that Dillon had given him.

“Puh! Puh! Dillon, you fucking asshole! You could have warned me!” Mike said in disgust between spits.

He spat time after time trying hard to remove the taste of his friend’s cum from his tongue but nothing could fully neutralise it. He stuck his tongue out then drew it back across his upper lip to rub the cum off, to no avail. Then he scraped his tongue against his teeth, but that still didn’t do the trick. He could feel Dillon’s jizz at the back of his mouth where he couldn’t reach to clear it off.

Dillon watched half amused.

“Sorry Mike,” he said, not really sorry. “Caught me by surprise.”

His cable tightened and Dillon was drawn back to his wall, dick hard and bouncing, its cum coated glans glistening in the light of their metal cell.

Nash empathised with Mike, but he also understood Dillon’s need to cum at any cost. He was personally so horny he was almost losing his mind.

Jake’s cable released and he walked forwards.

“It’s me Mike, Jake.”

“Suck,” the voice from the roof said.

“Don’t cum in my mouth!” Mike said, then he opened his mouth to receive Jake’s penis.

Jake slid his cock in without answering and Mike started sucking his helmet like a popsicle.

“Oh fuuuck,” Mike moaned immediately.

Nash watched. He shared Mike’s horniness. Although he was not consciously aware, he was looking forwards to his turn now. His dick was throbbing and his excitement was not entirely due to the current flowing into his balls from the collar surrounding the neck of his scrotum.

Within less than 30 seconds Jake said, “I’m going to cum!”

He withdrew his penis and turned away so that he didn’t give his friend a facial. He only got halfway round before he started to ejaculate, launching thin strands of semen into the air in looping arcs of pearly goo. Some splashed onto Mike’s shoulder, but the rest flew past him landing on the floor in messy stripes.

Watching intently, Nash poked the tip of his tongue between pursed lips as he anticipated his relief. Jake thrust his hips into the air repeatedly, air fucking as though he wanted to launch his jizz as far past Mike as possible. For ten seconds he humped and squirted, emptying cum reservoirs that had been electrically charged for eight excruciatingly teasing hours. Eventually he was dry and stopped moving, eyes closed. He swayed, legs weak, his strength as drained as his balls. Then his cable contracted and he allowed himself to be tugged gently back to his wall.

Nash stood expectantly, desperately horny now, more than willing to be sucked by Mike, his sense of homophobic revulsion secondary to his need to nut. Having watched Dillon and Mike get sucked, his brain rationalised that this was simply about release, not homosexual affection.

Nash’s cable relaxed and he walked forwards relieved, happy even, that he was going to get a turn. He stood in front of Mike but the other teen could not see him. Rather than simply announce himself, Nash pushed his penis at Mike’s mouth, pressing his helmet against the kneeling boy’s lips.

Mike did not immediately open his mouth.

“It’s me, Nash,” Nash said self consciously, little louder than a whisper.

Mike opened his mouth and Nash pushed his slender cock inside. Mike sucked the kid’s glans. It was much smaller than the other two. He felt vaguely paedophilic sucking it, but he knew he had no real choice.

Nash felt the warmth of Mike’s tongue on his glans, and staggered at the sheer pleasure of the sensation. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before. He had to fight to stay on his feet, and he understood in an instant why blowjobs were talked about with such enthusiasm amongst his friends. He felt bolts of excitement shooting from his glans to his balls, so intense they almost hurt, yet the warm wetness was also unbearably exciting. He knew that he wouldn’t last long at all.

Then he felt pressure on his balls. At first he didn’t recognise it, but the cable continued slowly contracting, tugging his testicles and he was pulled from Mike’s mouth. He stepped backwards, unable to resist, but equally unable to hide his expression of disappointment. He was desperate for release. He NEEDED release, and Mike’s mouth had only excited him more, to almost unbearable heights.

Mike was also tugged back to his wall. Nash watched him rise to his feet and retreat before he was dragged against his will. Nash frowned unconsciously, and it was all he could do not let out a little moan of disappointment.

He stood back by his wall when the voice issued a familiar command.

“Suck yourself Nash.”

Nash looked at the ceiling panic-struck, terrified that the water cannon would return. He looked at Dillon then at Jake. They looked back at him. They had both had their own boundaries to traverse, but they understood his massive reluctance.

“It could be something a lot worse,” Jake said.

Still Nash made no move to comply, paralysed halfway between fear and disgust. The roof opened and the water cannon lowered.

“Okay, okay!” Nash screamed, tears rolling down his face. “I’ll do it.”

The cannon turned towards him.

“Please don’t, I’m doing it!”

He leaned forwards, his spine rolling into a tight curve that was impossible for the vast majority of people. He opened his mouth and moved his head towards his dick. It was only short but he was lithe from years of gymnastics. He wrapped his lips around his glans, then reached with his tongue and started licking the now-hidden tip. He felt the same seismic tremors of excitement that he had experienced in Mike’s mouth. Stronger even, now that his tongue was engaged. He bobbed his head up and down jacking himself with his lips.

“Swallow your own cum,” the voice in the ceiling commanded.

Nash licked his helmet, not even considering how strange it was that he was deliberately trying to increase his own pleasure in ways that the camera could not detect. It just seemed natural to him that if he was going to suck his own dick, he would do it as well as he could.

He felt the surges of rapture starting in his balls that foreshadowed an imminent orgasm, and he bobbed his head faster using his lips as a surrogate for his fist. His tongue slurped and flickered across the head of his dick. Then hot cream was splattering at the back of his throat, more than he’d ever made before. He groaned involuntarily at the pleasure and resisted the instinct to gag, but the cum came too thick and fast for him to contain it all and some dribbled out of his mouth and down his dick. Desperate to comply with the letter of his tormentor’s commands, he flicked out his tongue, licking the cum that dribbled down his shaft, scooping it back into his mouth, and swallowing urgently. He continued licking and swallowing until his body had no more to give. His balls felt drained in a way that they never had before. He lollipop-sucked his dick one more time from root to tip, deep-throating it totally clean in an effort to prove that he had swallowed every last drop of jizz. When he reached the tip, he lifted is head and stood up. His saliva-coated dick sprang free, standing to eager attention.

Nash met Jake’s eyes and he immediately looked away, then down at the floor, blushing in crimson shame at what he had just done to himself.

“You did what you had to do,” Dillon reassured him. “We’ve all been there.”

The jailer entered with food. He removed Mike’s blindfold. As he placed the tray in front of Nash, he looked at the boy’s penis, finally soft now that the current had been turned off and he had nutted. It was small and pathetic once more, but it had the rosy glow of a prick that had recently received attention. The man gave Nash a sickly grin that showed he knew the self-loathing the boy was experiencing. Nash brazened it out, refusing to look away. The man looked down at the spent slug once more, its glans forming a larger red button on its tip, then let out a short humorous snort through his nose. Nash felt humiliated, and though he was doing his best to maintain his defiant stare, crimson crawled across his pale cheeks and down his shoulders and chest.

The man turned away, breaking the moment, and Nash had to resist the urge to cry. Without looking at the others, he dropped to his knees and ate like a dog. When they were finished all four boys balanced over the squat toilets and took a shit. Their trays were collected, then the lights went out…

Conditioning 11 – Days 19-21

The next morning the world looked very different to Nash.  Once a teenager has sucked his own four-and-a-half-inch dick on camera for the world to see, it’s the beginning of the end for his self-esteem.

For the next two days, the boys were forced into a repeating routine: Mike was forced to suck Dillon and Jake’s dicks whilst Nash stood and watched, then after hours of tormenting arousal, he was forced to suck his own dick, although after so much edging, it didn’t take much force.

On the third day, things took a turn for the worse. The three boys had stood, hard and stimulated by the testicle cuffs for four hours when a huge male mastiff dog rose from the central aperture. It was muzzled and all four legs were tethered so that it could not move at all.

Mike’s chain loosened. He looked at the animal with concern.

“Suck its dick,” the voice said from the speaker.

The golden-furred animal had fat, pendulous nuts and a fur-coated penis sheath. Its pink penis was already half out of its sheath. It looked raw and wet. The animal had obviously been prepped already.

Mike frowned then shook his head. Sucking his friends was bad enough but he could rationalise that. It was about survival, and no worse than women and gay guys did millions of times a day. But a dog? He’d sooner die.

“Suck it or lose your balls,” the voice said.

Mike’s face screwed into a storm cloud. He realised that this was the moment. This was his line. If he crossed it, then there was nothing he would not be doing in future. But if he refused? He’d already spent an excruciating night suspended by his testicles. He knew that their captors were prepared to inflict extreme pain to get their way. With an act of supreme courage, Mike shook his head a second time.

Mike had been bought by a wealthy Russian who wanted a muscular eunuch to serve as a houseboy. The man knew from experience that boys with their balls never lost their desire for freedom, but once they had been neutered, they lost a lot of their fire.

The watchers had already decided to castrate him when the winning bid came in, but this was a teachable moment for the others. As the most macho of the group, if he complied with their demands to fellate a dog, then the bar was lowered for the others. If he resisted, as he was expected to, then his castration, rather than being a clinical and painless operation, would be far less pleasant.

The dog dropped into the floor aperture and a panel slid shut on top. Then Mike’s testicle cable started to retract into the wall. Mike rose to his feet, then moved close to the wall, then closer, then he pressed against it as tight as he could.

“Pleeeease!” he screamed as the cable continued to retract slowly.

His pleas fell on deaf ears. The cable continued to tighten. It felt like his balls were being ripped off. But the watchers had done this before. The testicle cuffs were the perfect diameter. Too small for his testicles to escape, but not so small that they would be torn from his body. Instead, his testicles stretched far from his body, whilst being crushed against the smooth inner circumference of the ring that confined them. They grew tighter and tighter in his sack as they slowly compressed into the curved sides of the ring. Then first his right then his left could resist no more and they crumbled, the meat within turning to mush.

Mike’s scream took on a shrill, hysterical tone as he was unmanned. Nash watched with an expression of pure horror.

Then Mike collapsed forwards, his scrotum finally free of the ring that had constrained it. His hands were tethered behind his back and he fell onto his face, rolling into a foetal position. He rolled on the floor screaming in agony as the others watched in sympathetic, impotent silence.

A minute later two men entered and lifted the screaming teen to his feet. The other three boys looked at his groin before the men dragged him from the room. His scrotum was an amorphous sphere, bruised black, swollen as large as a softball already, and pulled up tight to the base of his shrivelled dick.

The men allowed the boys to get a good long look, then they dragged him through the metal door and shut it behind them. The boys could hear Mike screaming as he was dragged away.

When Mike’s screams had finally diminished, the remaining three boys looked at each other with expressions of deepest concern. Nash wanted to ask where Mike had been taken but he didn’t trust himself to speak without his voice betraying his terror.

Mike’s emasculation had proven one thing to him beyond a doubt though: ever since his captivity, Nash had harboured a tiny suspicion that this was all just a set up – that the other three were all in on some kind of ruse. Now, that faint glimmer of hope was gone. This was real. Deadly, deadly serious. Nash realised that he was probably not going to get out of this in one piece. There was going to be no exciting ten-second count-down and a daring escape or rescue, leaving just enough time for a happy final scene before the credits rolled. He felt sick to the stomach and it was clear looking at his two older companions, that they felt no better.

The current in the testicle cuffs was turned up, and the three teens became aware that their erections had become even more insistent; more distracting. At 5pm they were finally granted relief. Jake and Dillon were allowed into the middle of the room.

“Dillon, on your knees,” the voice ordered.

Dillon expected to be ordered to suck his friend’s penis as Mike had done so many times over the past few days, and he was more than willing to do so. Even before Mike’s castration he would have done so. But now there was almost nothing he would not endure to avoid the same fate.

Dillon knelt down and the voice said, “Jake, fuck him in the ass.”

Dillon closed his eyes. This was it. The moment that he had feared. But he knew that he would not resist.

Jake moved behind him and squatted down.

“I’m gonna spit on you to make it go easier,” he said quietly.

Dillon looked straight ahead and nodded curtly. Jake hawked up some saliva then leaned forwards and did his best to aim it beneath Dillon’s cheeks. Nash watched the scene before him. Two days ago it would have disgusted him but now he saw everything in a very different light. Not erotic, but part of a play that they were all forced to act in. Their actions no more indicative of their true desires than those of a screen murderer.

Jake crouched and used the head of his hard dick to guide his spit towards his friend’s hole. He pushed his helmet between Dillon’s buttocks. Dillon had always been the most reserved of the original quartet of friends – now reduced to just two. He had been the most resistant, the most self-conscious to their captor’s games.

Jake pressed his hard cock against Dillon’s sphincter.

Dillon snorted rapidly in and out through his teeth as though he was building up the courage to cut his own finger off.

“Relax, I think it will be easier,” Jake said gently.

Dillon exhaled with trembling breaths, struggling to follow his friend’s advice.

“I’ve already been fucked by a dildo for hours,” he reasoned to himself, “this is no differrent.”

But it wasn’t true and he knew it. Jake’s dick was hot and attached to a living breathing person, and that made all the difference in the world.

Jake pressed slowly and in spite of his resistance, Dillon’s hole gradually spread. As he felt it, open with no discomfort, Dillon finally started to relax, and as he did so, Jake’s dick entered more easily, soon slipping all the way inside.

Dillon felt his friend slide into him.  It was a massive invasion. He was now no longer fully heterosexual. There was an intimacy, even though he had not requested it. Their bodies were connected, closer now than they had ever been.

Jake started to fuck, and although he had no sexual interest in gay sex, Nash watched the performance closely.

“Cum inside him,” the voice commanded.

Jake complied, rapidly fucking to a climax. As he came, he thrust hard, not caring in that instant to whom the hole he was fucking was attached. Male or female, all he cared about was nutting.

He hammered the last few strokes home, filling his friend’s hole with a generous load. Then he withdrew and was gently drawn by the cable connect5ed to his nuts, back to his place at the edge of the room.

The latex fuck sock rose in the middle of the room on its stand.

“Good boy Dillon. You’ve done well. You can fuck this,” the voice said.

Dillon rose from his knees, his dick hard as it had been all day, and eagerly fucked the soft rubber hole. Jake’s cum dribbled from his asshole but he ignored it.

“Nash suck yourself,” the voice said, and Nash obeyed without hesitation, relieved to finally have the chance to ease his own sexual tension.

When he and Dillon were both done, a man entered the room. He was carrying a full syringe. He walked over to Jake. Jake looked at him with horror.

“Don’t worry, it won’t harm you.”

The man gripped Jake’s head and turned it to the side, exposing the boy’s neck, then he placed the tip of the needle by Jake’s vocal chords and slid it in, before injecting a small amount of liquid.

“What does that do?”

The man smiled.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Then he walked over to Nash and repeated the procedure. When he was done injecting the youngster, he produced a black thick canvas hood with a buckle at the neck. It had no eye holes – just one for the mouth. He pulled it over Nash’s head and buckled the neck closed. With his arms tied behind his back, Nash had no way of removing the hood.

The man left the room.

“What was that all about?” Dillon asked, curious about their assymetrical treatment.

Jake frowned.

“I don’t know,” he started to say, but no sound came from his lips beyond the breath required to try to speak.

“Fuck, I can’t speak!” he said, before realising that even that exclamation would not be heard either.

“Are you okay Jake?” Dillon asked.

“No. I can’t fucking speak!” Jake mouthed.

“You can’t speak?”

“No, I fucking can’t!” Jake said almost soundlessly.

Dillon turned to Nash.

“Nash are you okay in there? Can you speak?”

“Yeah I’m… Fuck no, what’s happened?!” Nash breathed as quietly as Jake.

Nash panicked, struggling pointlessly against his bonds. The hood already made him feel claustrophobic, but losing his ability to speak increased his feeling of confinement and isolation.

Dillon watched the boy thrashing around blindly.

“Calm down Nash, you’re going to hurt yourself. It’ll probably pass.”

Nash forced himself to breathe deeply.

Then the lights went out.