Tanya Miller and her daughter Cara stood before the door to the office of Ms Donna Flog. Next to her was her son, Bobby and on the far side, her daughter Cara. Tanya was smiling grimly; so was Cara. Bobby looked terrified and pleaded with his mother for one last chance. He was told in no uncertain terms that he had had all the chances he was going to get. He was lazy, incompetent and cheeky and that Ms Flog would not be pleased to see him again.
"Ah, Mrs Miller. And Cara! And not Bobby AGAIN! I thought I made it quite clear the last time what would happen to you if I saw you here again, boy?"
He hung his head. His face now very red. Although he was fully eighteen and had developed a fine, muscular physique, he looked close to tears.
"Well! Obviously he didn't respond to my last Correction Order. Did you attend, Mrs Miller?"
"I wasn't going to, but then I heard you had this new method of punishing young males... The upside down flogging?"
"Oh yes. And it has in most cases worked wonders. Leaving them dangling naked from the punishment poles by their ankles the whole morning for all the shoppers to look at, and then at noon executing sentence -- always at least fifty strokes of the paddle to their naked buttocks, seems to have discouraged these young hoods but of course we always get some. What has he done this time?"
"Oh, more of the same but worse. He is still cheeky, answering Cara and me back far too often. He is hopelessly incompetent sexually. He can't even bring poor Cara to five climaxes without losing control of himself and then, to cap it all off, dropping his erection, and every time I wanted to rape his anus with my double dildo, he screamed right through it. God, the thing is only three inches thick! Added to that, he is lazy. Can't even manage the housework, cooking and our body service in the time allotted to it. So, reluctantly, we've brought him to you for decision."
She turned her attention to the now quaking Bobby. Her expression, formerly one of sympathy for Mrs Miller's and Cara's tribulations at the hands of this worthless boy, now became very stern as she turned to him.
"You. Strip! And be quick about it."
He didn't hesitate. His very life, his whole future rested on this dour woman seated at the desk in front of him. He undid his neat tie and unbuttoned his shirt, removing it swiftly while the three women watched. His shoes and socks were next, being placed neatly on the floor beside him. He folded his shirt and placed it on the pile then removed his trousers, underpants and vest, each item being folded neatly and placed on the pile.
He knew very well his mother was being most unfair. He had worked his hardest for her and his sister from his earliest moments of recollection. Boys did. He had done the housework, the washing, the cooking, the garden, polished everything in sight and then checked to see all was perfect.
He knew he was competent at sex. Hell, she had taught him to satisfy her and his sister with his mouth, his cock and his ass-hole; sometimes all three together. He had never complained and even while his mother was out shopping and his sister at school, he had slaved to satisfy their insatiable demands. Apparently it still wasn't good enough.
He recalled the inhuman and so shaming public punishment. They had delivered him down to the square and into the hands of the executioner. There he had been made to strip naked and step up, in company with the other boys being punished, onto the scaffold. They had to lie down on their bellies while the executioner's assistant placed the leather anklets on them and hauled them up to dangle with their hands a foot or so clear of the floor of the scaffold. There they had hung in a row. A dozen of them in shame and humiliation while their friends and relations came and stared at them.
Nakedness in public was not usual. Not for males. Not even for males who had been reduced to slave status. At punishment centres, of course they were kept naked but people couldn't get into these places easily. And so the only place you could see males other than your own without clothes was at these punishment scaffolds. As a result they were extraordinarily popular and everyone around came to stare at the row of suspended naked young men awaiting punishment, and then at noon, to watch as it was delivered.
The executioner and her assistants armed themselves with the heavy wooden paddles and lined up behind the beautifully presented naked buttocks. And then it began. A stroke to the first boy, as hard as you could deliver it, then move up one. A stroke to him and move up one. And the assistants lined up behind one another to deliver subsequent strokes which were delivered a couple of minutes apart.
This procedure gave the males time to savour each stroke to its fullest and after fifty, all twelve pairs of buttocks were no longer boyish, no longer smooth. They were dreadfully swollen, puffy, violently red and purple and in every case, bleeding in parts. The executioner and her ladies had delivered each of the fifty strokes with the heavy wooden paddles as hard as their considerable muscles would allow. It certainly showed. Bobby was stiff and sore for a fortnight afterwards. Naturally there were many applications for vacancies in the corps of executioners but only the biggest and strongest, the most muscular and the most aggressive of women were chosen for these positions.
Tanya hadn't intended going. She had seen her son naked every day for years. She couldn't be bothered seeing him punished now and neither could Cara. Let him suffer alone! But when they heard of the new method of suspension, both had changed their minds and had stayed to watch every stroke administered to his (and other) worthless buttocks.
Tanya didn't really hate him. He was really quite good at his work and far better than she was prepared to admit in bed. It was just there was this slave down at the slave market she and Cara wanted. The rules were one male slave per house,(footnote) including any male progeny, whether slave or not. If they were to have Steven, Bobby would have to go. She had paid the deposit on Steven, now it remained to get rid of the unwanted son.
Ms Flog looked him up and down and smiled to herself. He was obviously being got rid of but neither the applicants nor she would acknowledge such a course was possible, let alone executable. She got up from her chair and came around to inspect the boy at close quarters. She ordered him to pose, which he did very competently, flexing his beautiful muscles expertly, erecting his cock and responding to her fingers as they moved all over his naked flesh.
"Very well developed, Mrs Miller. A real credit to you."
"We made sure he put in at least two hours a day working his body."
She ran her expert hands all over him. Oh yes! He was a prize, no doubt about that. It's a pity the woman had mentioned the sex thing. She might have applied for him to replace the slave in her own house. He was certainly good looking with the fine gold hair flopping down over his eyes, the brilliant blue eyes and the beautifully tanned skin which accentuated his wonderful muscles to a tee. Yes. She was sorry she was going to have to make that part of the order.
She returned to her chair and sat down, looked up an entry on her computer and wrote some notes on the file on her desk and then looked up at the still quaking boy.
"As this is your second time before me, your citizenship is revoked. You are now Bobby 168786 and are sentenced to slavery for life... For cheekiness, you will have your tongue torn from your mouth by its roots. For sexual incompetence, you will suffer radical castration. Both penis and testicles including your scrotum will be removed and your groin made quite smooth. You will have a new urination point created at the very base of your perineum. For laziness, you are sentenced to an indefinite period in an extreme labour slave camp where you will be disciplined to work harder than you thought possible. At the end of this indeterminate period, you will be returned to me for further assessment and possible allocation to one or another forms of employment including state slave, personal slave or transport slave."
Bobby slumped. He had, deep down, known this, or something like it, was going to be his lot. He couldn't understand how, when he had worked so hard to please his mother and sister, they could do this to him. That he was being discarded for another slaveboy didn't even occur to him. It was not unusual however. Many mothers discarded their sons at about this age, trading them in, as it were.
"Did you wish to watch his tongue extracted and the genital modification, Mrs Miller?"
Tanya turned to her daughter, enquiring if she wanted to stay. Cara nodded enthusiastically, her eyes bright She had never seen such a procedure and it would be exciting to watch Bobby punished so painfully.
"It seems so."
They trooped out of the office, Bobby leaving his clothes behind him. He would not be needing them again. Not where he was going, anyway. Ms Donna Flog led the way to the clinic containing the frame for tongue removal and the relatively new automatic castrating machine. She showed Tanya and Cara to a pair of the comfortable chairs provided for the families of newly made slaves and handed them a glass of fine champagne to sip as they watched Bobby modified
The technician came over and after introductions had been effected, Ms Flog informed her the newly made slave was to have his tongue torn out and his genitals removed totally. She grasped his arm, leading him to the frame which would hold his head immobile while she extracted his tongue.
Bobby didn't resist. He well knew if he did they would only send for more assistants and they would then make his life even more miserable. He knelt and lowered his head into the frame while the technician tightened the screws which pushed the back and top of his head to the front and base of the frame, holding it quite immovable.
She ordered him to open his mouth and poke out his tongue. Again he didn't resist. She grasped it in the massive pliers and then, while he squirmed and gurgled in agony, simply pulled, exerting more and more strength until she felt it start to tear free.
Tanya and her daughter, seated only a few feet from the boy's head, sipped their wine and watched with interest as his organ of taste and speech, now poking out indecently from his open mouth, was slowly torn from its roots.
Once fully extended from his mouth, it was then a simple matter to tear it right out. The jaws of the pliers now held the bloody tongue, still dripping his blood, and his mouth was a mass of frothy blood and gore. He was told to swallow and the wound would quickly heal.
Eyes wide and staring, mouth bloody, he gurgled. He would never utter an articulate word again. His body, kneeling at the frame, sweated and convulsed and even when she released him from the frame and he staggered to his feet, he was very unsteady.
She asked if he was to be depilated prior to castration and when informed yes, all hair below the eybrows was to be removed, placed the protective hemet over his head and eyes and then led him into the cabinet which, in a few minutes would rid him of these hairs forever. His hands were secured and fastened high above his head and the glass door to the cabinet closed and locked. The technician then turned on the valve which sent the newly developed acid up into the rose above his head to drip down all over his sleek body. He didn't have much in the way of body hair but as the acid bathed it and ate away not only the hairs themselves but also the roots, what he did have were permanently removed.
Tanya and Cara watched in interest as the
yellowish liquid washed down from the rose above his head, covering every
part of his flesh which wasn't protected. The acid used was not sulphuric
or nitric acid of course, and while it didn't permanently damage the skin,
it made it terribly sensitive and Bobby was soon struggling and writhing
under the stream. It only worked when heated and it was far hotter than
comfortable. His skin soon turned a violent red but they soon fixed that
by blasting him with a long stream of icy cold water to rinse him off at
the completion of the treatment.
Still seated in the chairs, mother and sister looked at his body with interest when he was brought over for their inspection.
Tanya had often thought of having him depilated but she had never got around to it.
Now she was sorry. He looked superb. So beautifully naked. His cock and balls so smooth and so prominent, poking out from his now hairless groin.
She rose, holding her champagne flute in her hand and strolled over to fondle them one last time, looking straight into his eyes significantly.
She knew she was wrong in her charges against him, or rather, that she had grossly exaggerated them, and she knew he knew it.
But she and Cara had set their hearts on Steven. Bobby had to go. And she wasn't going to have any guilt feelings about it.
She ran her hands up and down his so muscly belly. Yes, she had trained him well. His physical development was as good as she could get it.
"And now the castration..."
Ms Flog had other duties. She didn't want to rush the two ladies pleasure but there were limits.
It didn't matter. Tanya was anxious to see the new machine in action. Everybody had heard of this latest innovation in the control of males but few had actually seen it working. It was supposed to leave a slave perfectly nude down there and with no hint he had ever had anything in place of the pristine smoothness which would soon replace the heavy cock and balls he now boasted.
She had a small stab of nostalgia as she looked at him whole for the last time. After all, he was her son and she had had him in the house for over eighteen years. That set of cock and balls had given her a great deal of pleasure over the last few years... It was just he was passed his use by date!
The technician led them over to it. It was four feet high and eighteen inches square and was covered in gleaming stainless steel. The business part consisted of a hole at groin level through which the penis and testicles were placed. If you only wanted a testicular castration, only the balls were inserted.
She cuffed Bobby's hands behind him and his ankles to the clamps at the base of the machine, then fed his cock and balls into the hole. She closed the opening until it was very tight around the now naked root, then fastened the metal strap around his buttocks which would keep his loins securely anchored to the machine once his genitals were gone. She checked all his restraints then moved to the side of the machine.
"It's completely automatic, you see. I
push the button and the laser knife cuts him. Other tools cauterise each
blood vessel and other tubes. Finally, the skin is repaired and the new
healing drug, Newskin is applied, again by the machine.
"We leave him attached to it for another hour to allow the drug to work. If you go and have a cup of coffee then return, you will find we are ready to remove him and then puncture his urethra down here between his legs where nobody will see the hole. He will be perfectly smooth at the front."
Ms Flog smiled at them.
"We've found, ever since commissioning this machine that the male slaves who have been castrated on it are very popular at the market. There's not a hint of a mark, you see, where his genitals once were."
She nodded to the tech. who pressed the button.
Bobby screamed and began struggling immediately. His face went white, then red and his muscles assumed strictures and convulsions neither Tanya nor her daughter had ever seen on him before. Ms Flog explained:
"The designer didn't bother to invent ways of making it painless. This procedure is administered as a punishment. It was considered perfectly appropriate for the slaves to suffer terrible agonies as the laser knife burns and slices his scrotum open, extracts the testicles one by one and severs the various connective tissue and tubes, sealing each as it goes, then works on the penis itself. It is circumcised at the root and the same careful severing of blood vessels, urethra and erective vessels is undertaken and, as with the testicles, all cauterised and sealed. When this has been completed, and it takes more than an hour, the skin at the groin is replaced over the wound and the healing drug applied."
The machine hummed and vibrated as the various components inside it sliced him open, delved into his scrotum, cut, cauterised and repaired... Bobby continued to scream and struggle while his mother and sister watched and sipped their wine, quite fascinated as his body flexed and twisted and his buttock muscles indented, shook, thrust forward and back, and his other muscles behaved in similar vein.
It did indeed take over the hour after which Bobby collapsed over the top of the machine, his face sweaty and red, his breath coming in ragged gasps and each of his beautiful muscles now quite slack.
Tanya and Cara went to the canteen for coffee while Ms Flog returned to her office, agreeing to meet them back in the Castrating Room in an hour. Mother and daughter were excited. Now they would definitely be able to take delivery of the stunning slave down at the slave market but they also thought Bobby's performance on the machine and when being depilated were most enjoyable to watch.
Cara asked her mother if he really wouldn't be able to talk now.
"Not a word, my dear. And since no male is permitted to learn to read or write, he can no longer communicate at all, except by sign or body language. Still, he has a fine body and no doubt some lady will purchase him for her house..."
The technician released his hands, feet and the metal belt around Bobby's buttocks and he stepped back from the machine.
"My God," said Tanya. "Just look at him. It really leaves not a single mark. He is as smooth down there as if he was born without a cock and balls."
"And now we puncture his urethra, which of course has been sealed up by the machine. Get up on that table, slave and put your feet up in the stirrups."
Remarkably, he was able to move of his own volition and did as ordered.
She took a sterile hollow piercing needle and positioning it just so, drove it neatly into the flesh of his perineum, right down below his body and between his thighs where no-one would be able to see it.
A couple of days, while they made him drink continuously and urinate out of the new hole, and he would be ready for shipment to the extreme labour slave camp where he would learn what the word work really meant.
For the transfer to the camp he was given a tiny loincloth to cover his nakedness although now quite bare of even a trace of genitalia, there wasn't much point. Still, even neutered males wore something in public. They made him climb up into the cage on the back of the truck and fastened his hands up to its mesh roof. All the way through the city, in the various towns they would pass through, and out in the country, people could stare in at his almost naked body. And they did.
The sight of near-nude males was still enough of a rarity for women to want to ogle their flesh when given the opportunity. Bobby's was particularly pleasing. Smooth, tawny, muscular and with a handsome head, he was well worth crowding close when the truck stopped at intersections.
The journey took the best part of a day. The camp was out in the desert, isolated from the mainstream roads and in an area forbidden to citizens. There, his cage was opened and he was released from the manacles from which he had swayed throughout the hateful trip. His loincloth was ripped from about his middle and he was marched into the office, which, with the guardhouse, was the only building in the barb-wire surrounded camp. There, the commandant and six of her guards had been in conference. He was however admitted immediately and the boss-lady addressed him:
"I am Lady. and every other guard you will address as Mistress."
With that first instruction began two years of pure hell for Bobby. They examined his naked flesh minutely. They felt his muscles, making him bend and flex them over and over. They checked out his mouth and his anus, poking fingers -- and other things, in and out endlessly until he thought his tongueless mouth and his ass-hole must have been a bloody mess. His groin held particular interest for them.
The automatic castrators were still new enough that few had seen the wondrously clean and smooth groins the slaves who had been subjected to them boasted. They ran their fingers over his lower belly in awe and wonder, exclaiming to each other at the lack of scar or even the slightest mark where his cock and balls had once been.
Then it was out to the capstan. All new slaves were put on this inhuman device to toughen them, build their muscles and their endurance. They stayed on it for weeks and even months until the commandant decided they were ready for the next phase.
The capstan was huge. It had an enormous central shaft of solid oak. It was all of six feet across and six high. It revolved in a steel bearing filled with grease and half way up its length was another bearing which ensured it remained perfectly vertical. Radiating from it were four enormous spokes, each a foot in diameter and over twenty feet long. At the extremities of each spoke were places for three slaves. Closer in, chains dangled from the spokes and heavy iron weights could be attached to increase the load.
As Bobby arrived, the three slaves already manacled to the horrible thing were ordered to stop and Bobby was locked into the end position on the vacant spoke. The woman in charge, wearing a small triangular leather codpiece over her sex and nothing else, cracked the huge bullwhip she wielded. It lashed around Bobby's naked buttocks, curling into his groin and there snapped with a loud report.
He screamed inarticulately and, as far as his wrist manacles would allow, leapt into the air. Then he started to push. Now he found out how enormously heavy the thing was. Every step was a nightmare. Every step required a total output of energy. He leaned against the chest-high spoke and strained forward with all his might. So did each of the other males on the three other spokes. Their muscles stood out in stark relief and sweat oozed from their naked pores in abundance.
Bobby was sure it wasn't going to move. He strained harder, aware of the guard standing near and behind him. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, the guard raise the whip again, heard it snap and felt it against the centre of his right buttock. He gurgled again and pushed even harder. It wasn't going to move! But then the monstrous thing creaked and groaned and he felt the ground move away from under his feet. It was moving at last.
Step followed painful step. She did too. Every few steps that whip cracked loudly -- and its tail landed somewhere on his naked flesh. The sweat poured from his body and he yearned for his spoke to come round to the other side where a pipe dripped a small stream over the three capstan positions. As you reached that point, you could turn your head up and swallow a few mouthfulls, being careful not to put your feet in the concrete sluice beneath it.
The water which you didn't drink and which fell into the sluice was pumped right back up to the pipe again The pump was powered by the capstan, its only function in life. You knew it was utterly useless labour. You toiled day after day, weeks after week, month after month for fifteen hours a day. And your efforts were of no use to anyone.
They were fed before being manacled onto the spokes and if you couldn't regulate your bodily functions, you pissed and defecated right there on the track as you pushed. The only time they were allowed rest was when the machine was stopped to take on new slaves, farewell old ones or have extra weights added to the load.
For six months Bobby pushed against that barbaric device, the only benefit being the development of his thighs and upper body, particularly his shoulders, chest and arm muscles. But all of his muscles benefitted by achieving a definition second to none. Even when at rest they protruded prominently. His mother would have reason to regret not having opted to take him back after his time here.
Then, one day, they were ordered to stop and his manacles were removed. He stared at them in wonder. Only at night were they removed so he and the others could be taken to the horse trough to be fed their evening meal and then herded into the sleeping enclosure. This was also just a barb-wire yard. There was no roof. If it rained (which it seldom did since they were in the desert) they got wet.
He was taken to a field a long way from the guardhouse and there, harnessed to a plough. There were seven others of them but even so, even with eight well muscled, athletic and ultra strong slaves, it was as bad as the capstan dragging that plough through the earth. This part of the camp was near a well and other slaves continuously worked a capstan-driven pump which fed the water to each of the fields in rotation. The fields were verdant and prolific. It is often the case with deserts. The soil is rich, it only needs water to make it flourish.
For the next twelve months he toiled in the gardens which fed them the raw vegetables which were their only diet. The labour was as hard as on the capstan but at least it wasn't quite as monotonous.
And then he was taken to the quarry. All slaves worked in this order. The capstan to soften them up mentally while building and hardening their muscles, then the only really useful work performed at the camp, producing vegetables with hand labour, and finally the quarry. Here he worked with pick or heavy sledge hammer.
The pick levered the big blocks from the face and the sledge hammer broke it up into small stones which were used for the roads. Of course the tiny volume he and his companions produced would hardly fill one truck a week but it was the uselessness of the labour which was of benefit. Again he worked fifteen hours a day and still the guards followed, armed with bullwhips, canes and prodders, to lash their straining backs and buttocks.
Without his tongue, Bobby had no ability to speak other than to gurgle and make other inarticulate sounds. Most of his companions in misery had their tongues but talking between slaves in the camp was banned anyway. Not that many would have wanted to. After fifteen hours of extra hard labour, lashed the moment your exhausted body slowed, you didn't want to talk. You ate what was given to you. Did your business and then laid down on the grass to sleep the eight hours allowed, then woke up groggily as the guards moved through you, their bullwhips lashing down onto your unprotected flesh to rouse you for yet another day's suffering.
Tanya and Cara bought their slave, Steven. And he was as beautifully muscled and handsome as they had thought on first inspection. They got him home and each in turn tried him out in their bed before putting him to work. To their horror, despite his magnificently athletic body, his sexual skills, strength and endurance weren't even a half of Bobby's.
Enraged, Tanya put him to work. She made him exercise half the night until his fine muscles tightened even more and his endurance doubled. Still his skills were lacking and so was his sexual endurance.
Cara, always the sadist, made a suggestion -- which her mother took up with glee. He was taken down to the veterinary and certain instructions were given. On his return three days later, his middle carefully shielded from public view, they stripped him and then chortled with glee. His balls were gone although his cock remained. But what a cock!
It was now permanently erect, swollen to three inches thick and stretched in length as far as its skin would permit. It was now eleven inches long, filled with hardened silicone and a perfect weapon to excite the two ladies.
So far as skill was concered, it no longer mattered. His cock was so big, as long as his endurance held out, he could satisfy both of them over and over -- and they made damned sure he didn't lack stamina. He was exercised for hours a day at isotonic exercises. His muscles were already quite big enough. What they wanted now was tone, strength and, above all, endurance. They got it.
Bobby was brought back to the city and placed on public view at the market. Tanya and Cara came down to look at their son and brother and immediately wanted him back. Unfortunately, no-one wanted to buy the now grotesque Steven with his enormous cock, at least soon enough and Bobby went to a young woman just starting out in life. For the first time, he had a chance of some affection and consideration from his owner. And when he realised this was the case, he gave her everything. Hard work, adoration and wonderful sex.
Tanya was annoyed when she found out how Bobby had found his niche but by now it didn't matter, Steven was gone. They had tired of him and sent him off to a labour farm to end his days under the lash. There were plenty of fresh faces in the market. Tanya and Cara looked around for something more like Bobby.
©1998, 2000, 2002 Katharsis Dot Net
1. This was the early
days after the revolution, before the artificial constructs came on line
and every woman could have, essentially, as many males as she wanted. (go
back to text)