darktwistedstories

[darktwistedstories]

The Hellspawn Procedure

Warning! The following story contains themes that are truly dark and twisted. Reader discretion is advised.

. . . . . . . . .

Bored. So completely and utterly bored. That was the only feeling he felt nowadays, and he was sick of it. James was, by all standards, a very privileged individual. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth into a family owning several businesses, he had not exactly experienced any hardships, but rather the opposite. He had lived that type life to its fullest, down to bullion spoons, weekly golf rounds and a seldom visited garage full of expensive cars he bragged about but never drove.

But even the luxuries of modern society lose their appeal after a while. For the last few years, he had felt himself becoming more apathetic. He was no longer as young as used to, and no longer craved the fleeting pleasures he once did. His marriage had grown cold, and he and his wife had fallen into a routine that did not really excite any of them, but they kept going through the motions all the same. In the bedroom, he and his wife had always been, as it was called in their circles, ‘an adventurous’ couple. This included the usual run of the mill kinky toys and BDSM equipment. But even this had gone stale after a while. A few years ago, they had both also joined an exclusive fetish and BDSM club only open to the higher echelons of society, which had been fun for a while. Lately however, they had not attended any events, instead simply existing and going through their gray days of meetings and outings without reflection or excitement. This mundane existence however, was about to change.

It was like any other tuesday when James received a text message from the club, offering him an invitation to an event the upcoming weekend, sent by the club owner himself from his personal account. This was very out of the ordinary, usually the invitations did not come directly from the owner, and certainly not from the owner’s personal account. This intrigued James. The invitation was cryptic, but mentioned that only a select few of the club’s members had been issued an invitation, to not speak of the event to anyone and that black tie with the addition of identity-concealing headwear was advisable for the event. James knew what that meant all right, he had done enough dirty business dealings to know that this was not about integrity, but rather something dirty on the fringes of the law. Feeling very curious he asked his wife that evening if they should go, and sharing his curiosity, she agreed. He sure hoped this was worth their time, and that he had not fallen victim to some new marketing scheme by the owner. He could be a devious fiend when he wanted to.

The week crept by and James did not really think about the upcoming weekend that much. His initial curiosity had died down, and now he was instead feeling a bit grumpy and half wished that they had declined. However, as they did not have any other plans there were no real reason not to go. He and his wife got ready for the evening, bringing with them a pair of old-fashioned masquerade masks to cover their faces. They were very garish; adorned with real black feathers and lavishly decorated with rhinestones. But they did hide their faces well and since no one would know it was them anyway, neither of them cared about looking foolish.

The club was located at the outskirts of their local city, in a block of what had previously been factory buildings, but that had now been repurposed to offices and a few shops. Both having to show their invitations to get in, they were led to one of the largest rooms inside the club, which was called the theatre. It was called so because it was a large room with a slightly raised stage at the far end, and comfortable arm chairs and sofas stood in rows facing it. Most of the furniture was black leather, apart from the front rows, which were instead sporting dark red velvet fabric. This room was usually used for demonstrations and ceremonies. This evening, a strange metal frame was standing on the stage, it did not look like any equipment James had ever seen before. Feeling his curiosity returning, he hoped to the evening would be entertaining. The room was filled by a fair number of other people, some wearing masks like they were, other fashioning hoods or simply sunglasses. Some of them were obviously devoted followers of a BDSM lifestyle, as various slaves clad in leather and rubber could be seen sitting on the floor in front of their owners. All in all there were maybe around forty or fifty people there. As it turned out, James and his wife were some of the last to arrive, and soon after having sat down the club owner entered onto the stage.

“Welcome, welcome, my dear ladies and gentlemen! Welcome, to what I hope will be an exciting night to remember.” He smiled broadly and held his arms out wide. The club owner was a very tall and good looking man, sporting his usual leather tuxedo and his bald head freshly shined. “And you, my dear visitors, have been carefully selected for this evening. I do apologize for having been so coy with you all. The reason is that what you all will witness here tonight is of a caliber that not everyone can stomach, and that only appeals to those who have an acquired taste for the more finer arts of cruelty and ownership.” The club owner showed his teeth in a slightly evil grin and looked out to the sea of hidden faces looking up at him. Many of the people seemed to be a bit tense, but there was a palpable hunger and curiosity in the air. James thought briefly about what club owner had just said, and wondered if he indeed fit the description. He had for a time received quite a reputation within the club for being a harsh master, but he had never really considered owning a slave, being more of an occasional role player.  

A man wearing a white doctor’s coat had appeared next to the stage. “Tonight”, the club owner went on, “you will all witness the creation of a new kind of toy, the first of its kind, and it is all thanks to our guest of honor. Allow me to introduce to you all: Dr. Clark.” The club owner started applauding and gestured for the man in the coat to come up on the stage. “Dr. Clark is the reason we are all here tonight, and we are very lucky indeed to have him as a guest for what I am sure will be a memorable evening!”, the club owner finished and stepped down to stand right next to the stage. The audience joined him in the applause.

“Thank you, thank you all”, said Dr. Clark with what was a mature and calming voice. He had a classically handsome face, sporting an elegant short haircut and a few days of stubble. “I am honored to have been invited to your fine establishment for the evening. As you just heard, my name is Dr. Clark and I am surgeon that have for the last few years specialized in plastic surgery. In my private time however, I have enjoyed opportunity to apply my knowledge and skills to more devious ideas than tucking chins and straightening noses. It is that which leads me here today. I have been preparing for this day for a long time and hope it shall be successful. Allow me to bring in the main star of the show.” He clapped his hands twice. Four people appeared, each carrying the corner of a large metal stretcher, upon which someone was laying. They went upon the stage and fastened the stretcher into the metal frame. The frame allowed for the stretcher to be moved and rotated. After having locked it into place, the stretcher was tilted up to a standing position, so that everyone in the audience could see. “Ladies and gentlemen”, said Dr. Clark. “Tonight’s star!” Bound to the stretcher with several thick leather straps was a man. A very large and very tall man. He had a very muscular body, large areas of which was covered in dark tattoos. His head was shaved bald and his face looked harsh and rugged, featuring several scars. The man had his eyes closed. He was not awake. “This is David.” Dr. Clark moved close to the man and slapped him on his bald head. The audience was now paying him their fullest attention. They all wondered what was going to happen to David.

“David here, has a tragic backstory. Raised as a religious extremist, he grew up to become quite the fanatic, and over the last few years committed a series of gruesome murders in the name of his faith. Murders for which he was a few weeks ago found guilty of, with the resulting punishment of being sent… to death row.” Dr. Clark paused to let the audience take in what he had just said. The atmosphere in the room changed rapidly. It was very still, and there was a clear sense amongst many of the onlookers that sinister things were in the making. “However, due to a few useful contacts of mine, the injection that was supposed to have ended his life this morning did not actually do so, being replaced as it was with a narcotic instead. This proved effective enough to fool those involved, and thanks to my contact, he did not end up in the morgue. Instead, he is here tonight at as the first candidate for my new procedure.” Dr. Clark walked across the stage, his voice quivering with excitement and… something akin to malice. “Tonight, I will end his sad existence and he will reborn as… a creature that will know nothing but pain and suffering; an object, true to the word”, Dr. Clark exclaimed. A few murmurs swept through the audience as a swift breeze. Some were evidently not comfortable with the morality of the situation, but transfixed enough to not object, and curious enough to want to stay. James felt a tingle in his crotch area. He was starting to get aroused.

“You see”, Dr. Clark continued, as an assistant now rolled trolleys with medical equipment out to stand next to the stage. “For the past few years I have been experimenting with a formula for a new type of, for lack of a better word, silicone. A silicone that is a mix of silicone and glue, that grafts together with living tissue, is durable and strong enough to hold its shape, and do not pose any risk of rejection from the body. It is this formula that is allowing the transformation you will all witness tonight to be possible.” Dr. Clark moved to the edge of the stage and picked up a metal instrument. “I will use this silicone to strip away his senses, reducing him to an object that will not be able to experience any pleasure. Only pain.” He smiled as he glanced over all of the transfixed faces watching him.

Dr. Clark moved on the stage so that he was standing next to the frame holding the unconscious man. An assistant had moved up beside him, holding a tray of several syringes, filled with the silicone he had just mentioned. “The first thing I will do, is to take away its hearing. This object will not have any need for being able to hear any instruction, nor anything else.” As he spoke, Dr. Clark had moved up and peered into the man’s ear, using a small flashlight to look into the ear canal. “To achieve this, I will simply start by rupturing the ear drum”, he continued to say as inserted a scalpel in the ear and made a few delicate stabs. “And then”, he said and put the scalpel down on the tray and raised one of the syringes. “I will inject the silicone to fill up the entire ear cavity. The silicone will adhere and graft together with the tissue; you can think of it as the ultimate ear plug. It will also go so deep and fill up the cavity so much that when the body tries to heal the damage, it will not be able to, as the silicone is blocking the way. This will result in utter and complete loss of hearing. The ear will simply not be able to detect any sound waves at all, and thus not send any signals to the brain: dead silence”, Dr. Clark continued to explain as he emptied the first syringe into the ear, guiding his aim with the flashlight. He then picked up a second syringe and continued to fill the man’s ear. “Upon exposure to the air, the silicone begins a hardening process, becoming firmer. It will still be somewhat flexible when this process is complete however, which takes a few minutes to complete, and until that moment, it simply needs to be held in place.” He picked up a small rubber plug which he showed to the audience, before proceeding to place it carefully into the man’s ear, holding the silicone in place as it hardened. As Dr. Clark and his assistant moved over to the other side of the body to repeat the same steps for the other ear, James looked around the audience. Most of the onlookers were completely transfixed, sitting still as statues, simply gazing on the events unfolding. However, he did notice that a couple of people were slowly caressing their crotches. He was not the only one who found this extreme version of objectification deeply erotic.

“Another nice feature of this silicone”, Dr. Clark lectured as he worked on the other ear. “Is that in addition to it being flexible, it has the same density as human flesh. And as it grafts together with the tissues it touches, this means that it is not possible to feel where the body ends and the silicone begins. It will not feel like there is anything touching the skin, rather it will simply feel like an inert extension of the body itself.” After placing a second rubber plug in the man’s other ear, Dr. Clark put down his instruments on the tray and addressed the audience. “Well, that takes care of the hearing. Now let us move onto the the difficult part, removing its ability to taste, talk, eat and smell.” As he spoke, the assistant busied himself by bringing a tray full of rubber tubing. James’ underwear was feeling definitely too tight now, not helped by the faint moan he heard from someone a few seats away.

Dr. Clark picked up one of the black rubber tubes from the tray. “In order to achieve this, and make it permanent, no less, I have had to apply considerable ingenuity. These tubes are mostly rubber, but they have a middle layer consisting of a glass fibre mesh. This makes it so that the tubes retains some flexibility and can be squished somewhat, but never to the point of actually closing. I have measured these out to fit this specimen specifically, and see here”, he held up one of the ends of the tube in his hands, showing it to the audience. “The end has been carefully rounded, in order to not irritate the tissue around it.” James saw that the other end of the tubes however, had metal bits attached to them, but Dr. Clark did not mention what they were for.

“For this part of the procedure, the object needs to be laying down, but fear not, we have this covered so that you can still see what is going on.”, said Dr. Clark and gave a nod to the club owner. The club owner gestured to a few people James could not see, and in seconds a rolling stand with a giant TV appeared next to the stage. A second assistant appeared and picked up a camera that was connected to the TV, allowing the audience to now see what was being filmed. As this happened, Dr. Clark rotated the stretcher in the metal frame that held the man so that he was now laying down.

“This is a tricky operation, since the epiglottis in the throat is not keen to allow passage to both the esophagus and the lungs at once. But luckily, four hands are able to achieve what two are not.” Dr. Clark said, and gestured with his head towards his medical assistant. James watched as Dr. Clark and his assistant started feeding the rubber tubing into the mouth and nose of the man, using lube to make them go in easier. The assistant was taking care of the mouth, and Dr. Clark operated the tubes in the man’s nose both at once. Dr. Clark and his assistant communicated in silent mumbles  as the audience watch with rapt attention what was happening on the TV screen. The tubing was slowly but surely entering deeper and deeper. At one time, the man’s gag reflex was triggered by the tubing being shoved down his throat and his body twitched. James looked down into his lap and found that his hand was stroking his cock through his trousers. He was not aware of even having started doing so.

After a few minutes, the rubber tubing was finally in place. Two rubber tubes were now entered completely through the man’s nose down into his lungs. The last bit of the tubes were clad in metal, giving the impression that the man had nostrils of steel. The tube sticking out of its mouth still went out past its teeth. “Now comes the most crucial part, filling its mouth with silicone with letting any enter down into its stomach or lungs.”, said Dr. Clark as he and his assistant went to fetch a new set of tools from the trolleys next to the stage. The audience watched as the assistant now placed a metal instrument to the mouth, touching both rows of teeth. It was then carefully expanded, forcing the mouth open by pushing on the top and bottom teeth, so that the man’s mouth was gaping as wide as it could. “The contraption my assistant is now attaching is only temporary, it forces the mouth open to its fullest, and will also hold the tongue in place”, Dr. Clark said. The audience saw on the TV as the assistant pulled the tongue out of the mouth, and fixed it in place with a small clamp on a metal arm in the middle of the contraption. The mouth was now wide open, and the tongue was sticking out of the middle of it, together with the rubber tube leading down to the stomach.

“The tubing in its throat does a good job of blocking the passages, however, there is still the possibility of some silicone trickling past it. To remedy this, I need to compress the throat around the tubing for the time being”, said Dr. Clark and started wrap a roll of elastic cloth bandage around the throat and neck, as the assistant held up the head. “The problem with this of course, is that it also blocks the blood flow, so we need to work quickly. The rubber tubes will not be compressed however, thanks to their mesh interior, so breathing will continue as normal.” He nodded to the assistant to bring him a tray with syringes of silicone. Both he and his assistant started to simultaneously fill the oral cavity with silicone. They started by directing the silicone down into the throat, but then also injected it around the rubber tubes in the nose to fill up the sinuses. James watched in awe as the pool of silicone in the mouth started to rise. They both stopped when it had risen high enough to reach the corners of the mouth, and no more could be filled in without spilling out. A bit of the man’s tongue was sticking up through the pool of silicone together with the black rubber tube leading to the stomach. “Every last bit of the oral and nasal cavity, including the sinuses, are filled with silicone. It will no longer be able to smell, taste, talk, swallow, or even to move its jaw as it will be fixed in this open position permanently.” One of the rubber slaves sitting on the floor in front of its master a few rows away from James could not help itself, but let out a definite, horny squeal. Its master quickly slapped its hooded head to quieten it. James could see that a few other slaves in the room too were quivering with excitement. Up on the stage, Dr. Clark smiled. “It will not even be able moan anymore, as the vocal folds have been frozen in place by the silicone and cannot come together to give voice.”

Going over to the trolleys, Dr. Clark picked up a large bit of what looked like lump of black rubber. The assistant in charge of the camera kept filming the man’s mouth as the silicone in its mouth was going through its hardening process. “While my assistants keep an eye on its head, I shall turn my attention elsewhere. Touch will of course be one of its remaining senses, but I think we can all agree that an object has no use for its hands. These are specially designed mittens which will take care of that.” He held up the lump of rubber and showed it to the audience. “They too consist mainly of rubber, and has the same mesh as the tubing, giving them a firm structure. The outside is covered with a layer of high quality leather, to protect the rubber. And see here, the bit that goes around wrist has metal attachments that will be fastened to this.” He picked up a second object from the trolley. It was a heavy duty metal wrist cuff, opening with a hinge. “Naturally, it will welded shut when we are done here today, for now though a padlock will have to do. The mittens are snugly designed to keep its hands closed as fists, with its thumbs crumpled in the middle. For good measure though, I will also fill up the mittens with silicone, to make sure that the hands are completely immobilized and cannot even be flexed.” Dr. Clark approached the man and started putting its hand into the rubber mitten, as the assistant in charge of the camera started filming what he was doing, so that the audience could follow the procedure on the TV. “And to be honest with you all… I am not completely sure what will happen with its fingernails. I expect the body will attempt to continue growing them out, even with its hands in this constrained state”, he said thoughtfully as he carefully careened the rubber mitt onto the hand. “That would naturally be quite uncomfortable, but I suppose that even if the nails do pierce the flesh they will stop when eventually hitting bone.” A shiver went through the audience. The level of cruelty this man was capable of casually brushing aside as no more than an afterthought was truly mind-boggling.

After Dr. Clark had attached the mittens, filled them up with silicone and then locked the metal wrist cuffs into place, he and his assistants rotated the stretcher again, so that the man now was in a standing position again, still strapped to the stretcher with its leather straps. The TV and the camera was pushed to the side as they were no longer needed. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, let us talk about the object’s lower regions.” Dr. Clark gestured to the man’s flaccid penis and balls. “I contemplated many different options regarding this area in particular. But in the end, my vision is to create an object incapable of feeling pleasure or excitement and only pain and suffering. To that end, there are some modifications I need to make.” Again, his assistant brought him a tray, carrying more rubber tubing, although not as thick as the one that had been inserted into its mouth and nose. “You see, even if its penis were to be removed, there are still nerves inside the urethra going all the way to the bladder. And we all know it can be pleasurable to urinate sometimes, especially if you have had to hold your bladder for a time. Even that pleasure is out of the question. I want this object to feel nothing of the sort. And naturally, any erection and ejaculation is completely out of the question.” Dr. Clark smiled again as his eyes fell on some of the hooded slaves in the audience staring hungrily at him, their eyes wide beneath their hoods. “To that end, a simple solution will do. This is a catheter that will go all the way into the bladder, and as such the object’s urination can also be controlled. This will allow for urine to pass without interacting with the nerves in the urethra.” He picked up the tubing from the tray. “And on this end, there is a simple cap.” He indicated the metal bit on the end of the tube. It looked like the front part of a metal chastity device. The cap did not connect directly to the catheter however, instead there was a bit of metal pipe between it and the catheter, quite bigger in diameter than the tube. “As you can see, the cap has some length to it. It will allow me to first install the catheter tubing, and then push the penis inside the penile cavity, where it will be secured by the use of yet more silicone, grafting it into place. All that will be visible from the outside is this.” He indicated the front of the metal cap, in the center of which was a small hole with metal plug that screwed into it. “This of course leaves the testicles, but I think we can all agree that while they can be used for pleasure, the opposite is just as true, if not more so.”

Dr. Clark proceeded to insert the catheter with the use of lube, then smothered the man’s penis in his special silicone, and proceeded to push it into the penile cavity. Unfortunately, it was difficult to see what was going on, since Dr. Clark obscured the view when doing this. When he finished and stepped away however, where there had earlier been a flaccid cock, there was now only a small round piece of metal. James clenched his hand into a fist and proceeded to massage his crotch more intensely than before. “And that ladies and gentlemen, means it is time for the final step”, said Dr. Clark and smiled broadly as he gestured to the man’s head again. Time stood still for a second when the audience wondered what the final step would be. They had removed the contraption keeping the jaw open, along with the rubber plugs thad had been in its ears. It was a weird sight. The eyes were closed, two tubes were sticking out of its nose and its mouth wide open, with a rubber tube and tongue sticking out from a large amount of hardened silicone filling the mouth. It was grotesque, yet incredibly arousing. James thought it looked incredible.

While his assistant was going over what they had done so far and double checking that everything was in order, Dr. Clark went and fetched a large black object. He went to the middle of the stage and held it up for everyone to see. It was a thick, heavy duty hood, rather larger than normal. Its back was split in two to allow for it to be installed snugly over the man’s head. A woman in the audience who realized what what was about to happen gasped audibly. Dr. Clark did not say anything, instead he just smiled and then went to fetch a large metal collar that he also held up for the audience to see. It looked so heavy James was impressed that the doctor was able to raise it so easily. They all understood what was going on. This hood was going to be installed in the same manner as the mittens. Dr. Clark joined his assistant by the man and turned the hood inside out. This was difficult, as it was so thick and sturdy it did not want to bend out of shape. Dr. Clark and his assistant proceeded to attach the tubes coming out from the man’s nose and mouth to holes in the hood that had been prepared for them. The metal ends of the tubes slid perfectly into place, being visible as three dots of light in the otherwise black mass that was the frontside of the hood. Together, Dr. Clark and his assistant peeled the hood over the head, and used some silicone on the back seam to glue into permanently into place. The assistant held the hood in place as this happened. The thick metal collar was then attached to the bottom of the hood around the throat, closing with a satisfying metal clunk that sent shivers through the audience. James thought it looked incredible. It was no longer a man, but truly an object devoid of senses and expression. 
“Ah, but I am not quite finished,” said Dr. Clark when noticing that some in the audience seemed to think it was all over. “We still have this”, he said, and tapped the top of the hood. “There is a little hole here that needs filling.” His assistant was now bringing him the last tray, on which there was the largest syringe yet, filled with a massive amount of his special silicone. “Naturally, the hood cannot simply sit on the head, but needs to fastened with silicone”, he said as pointed the syringe down into the hole at the top of the hood. “This will fill the hood up entirely. It will cover the rest of the tongue, find its way in under the lips and teeth, fill up the outer parts of the ears and glue its eyelids shut forever.” Dr. Clark explained as he started to empty the syringe full of silicone into the hood. “As with the nails, the hair and beard will attempt to grow, which should increase the pressure inside the hood. Eventually however the pressure will just be too great for the hair follicles to be able to function. Additionally, as you can imagine, the head is now a bit more prone to overheating than usual, so the object should not be left out in the sun for long.” Dr. Clark chuckled silently at his own joke as emptied the last of the silicone and then stepped away. His assistant then went to put a small rubber plug in the hole of the hood. “And for a final touch, let us close his feeding hole as well”, Dr. Clark said and picked up a small metal knob that screwed into the tube in front of the mouth. He inserted it firmly in place and then stepped away. “And with that, ladies gentlemen, my job here is done. I present to you, a true object.” The sight made James so horny that he almost felt light-headed. The stage, the metal frame, the muscled, tattooed man bound inside it with thick leather straps. Its head and hands permanently enclosed in rubber and metal. Its senses stripped away, rubber tubes for breathing, eating and peeing. Its cock compressed inside its body. It was sinister and breathtaking in equal measure.

“Oh and I forgot to tell you about a most entertaining detail. I mentioned earlier that this object was raised as a religious fanatic. It was an ardent devotee and believed in its faith in the literal sense. I was informed that in the intervening days of its verdict and the date of its execution it became obsessed with absolving for any and all sins it had committed, in order to secure a place in the afterlife.” Dr. Clark rolled his eyes in amusement. “The prison guards had heard it having nightly terrors and screaming in its sleep that it was sorry, and for ‘the hellspawn’ to leave it alone. Poor thing, it was having nightmares of going to hell. Well… most amusingly, my contact at the facility was present when he received its injection. As its consciousness was leaving it, my contact leaned close to its ear and told it that the priest it had been confessing its sins to in order to become absolved was in fact a satanist and that the next thing it would know would be waking up in hell.” Dr. Clark smiled wickedly, eyes glinting. “It is for that reason that I jokingly refer to this as ‘the hellspawn procedure’.” Dr. Clark chuckled wickedly. “And this also means that when the narcotic starts wearing off, which should be in a few minutes, the poor thing will indeed believe that it is waking up in hell, and well… it is not wrong, is it? It is now an object, and we are the hellspawn that will torture it for the eternity it has left!” Dr. Clark laughed openly. James groaned in his seat. This was the most arousing thing he had ever witnessed. He sure was glad he accepted the invitation.

Dr. Clark exited the stage as the club owner returned, smiling wildly, his arms outstretched. “What a night, let us all thank Dr. Clark for this truly unique demonstration here this evening.” He faced Dr. Clark and applauded him, and the audience joined in. Dr. Clark was now standing a bit away from the stage, looking pleased and eager. “And as you heard from Dr. Clark, the object formerly known as David is about to regain consciousness at any moment. I will have some help in breaking it in and welcoming it to its new life.” The club owner cracked a wicked smile. Two club members wearing leather hoods and harnesses joined him on the stage, carrying an assortment of whips and crops with them. “We will also allow it to have a bit more mobility”, the club owner added, as he and his companions opened some of the straps, allowing the object a bit more freedom in moving its arms and legs, but its torso still firmly  bound to the stretcher. “Now let us wait.” All that could be heard in the theatre was the breathing of the audience and the occasional involuntary whimper of arousal. James did not think that he had ever been in a situation where the air was this thick with anticipation. His cock was fully erect in his trousers, and he wanted nothing more than to walk onto the stage and fuck the object’s ass until it trembled. Hopefully, he would have the opportunity later.

After around ten minutes or so, something began happening. The object’s head, encased in its large hood and weighed down by the thick metal collar around its neck, began flopping slowly from side to side. It seemed like it was waking up, groggy, no doubt. People were leaning forward in their seats, eager to not miss a thing. A few more minutes passed and the head moved around a bit more, and was joined by certain movements in the arms and legs. The club owner gave a nod to one of his companions. The companion nodded and went closer, looking slightly hesitant. Then, in one swift moment, he raised a riding crop and hit the object across the chest. The object reacted. It looked like it immediately sobered up. James could see how it was slowly testing its movement, attempting to make sense of its surroundings. Perhaps it was unsure about what just had happened. After another sign from the club owner, his companion went forward and taking hold of one the object’s nipples, gave it a hard squeeze and a turn. The object jerked. It had now noticed that someone, or something, was there, interacting with it. The object began shaking its arms around, seeming to notice that its movement was constricted. Another lashing from the riding crop across its chest set it off even more. It began frantically to shake its limbs around, rattling its restraints. No sound was coming from it, as it had the lost ability to give voice or even moan. James was not alone in trying to imagine what on earth it was sensing and thinking. It would never be able to communicate its experience.

The club owner and his second companion moved in. Each holding a different whip, they walked in circles around the metal frame, keeping up a steady rhythm of lashings. The object started to shake every part of its body it could, silently attempting to escape its predicament. The creaking leather and clanking metal joined with the sound of the whips rushing through the air, making any and all tension in the atmosphere discharge into rippling waves of horniness and excitement that spread through the audience. Cheers, the occasional clapping of hands and evil, gleeful laughs joined the symphony. The object was clearly panicking. The club owner and his companions could hear it hyperventilating through its nose tubes. Its body was shaking and trembling uncontrollably. Not before long however, it went limp again and stopped reacting to the deluge of lashings painting its body with welts. Had it fainted? Dr. Clark swiftly came on the stage and checked its pulse. “It is fine”, he told the energetic audience. “Simply a bit overexcited from its first experience of its new life. It has fainted. But let us leave it to rest for now.” He gave a meaning nod to the club owner.

“Of course, Dr. Clark. Thank you.” He dismissed his companions and went to the front of the stage to address the audience again. “Well that brings us swiftly to the final part of the evening. This object needs a home, which means, as I am sure you all have figured out by now, that we have ourselves an auction. The object will need to stay in the club dungeon for a few days under observation by Dr. Clark, but after that whoever wins the auction is free to take it home.” James looked at his wife. She met his gaze and placed her hand on his thigh. They were of one mind. He was going to win the auction, no matter the price. He did not even care if he had to sell every single one of his cars to do it. He had never wanted anything as much in his whole life. Never. The club owner started the bidding process. James raised his arm again and again, pushing the bid higher. Finally he just raised his arm and kept it raised, to indicate to everyone in the room that he was not going to be outbid. The final sum was substantial, well into the six figures. At long last, the bidding concluded and the club owner exclaimed the man with the black feather rhinestone mask as the winner. James could not stop smiling. Both he and his wife quickly got to their feet and walked to the stage, the audience applauded politely. James had to steady his own breathing to contain his excitement. It looked even more incredible up front. He and his wife started feeling the object’s body and inspecting the fine work Dr. Clark had performed on its various body-parts, as the club owner thanked the audience for attending the event. And… James could not help but notice the very hungry stare with which his wife eyed their new toy. Was it simply horniness, or… something more? Envy? Longing? She had always been the submissive one out of the two of them with a flare for sensory deprivation. Hm. Perhaps he should give Dr. Clark and the club owner a call later and tell them that the evening could soon be repeated with a new candidate. And then… perhaps it was time to move his relationship with his barber to the next level? His very attractive barber that had occasionally joined him and his wife in role-play, and who shared his interest of inflicting pain. They would certainly make a handsome couple of hellspawn that could torture his new toy in every way imaginable. James bit his lip in contemplation and felt his entire body shiver. He had not felt this alive in years.

[darktwistedstories]

The New Life of P

Peter wasn't at a high point in life. He guessed he was depressed but he would power through it - things would turn around soon, they just had to. He had recently finished his education and yet he was not able to find a job, he’d been to several interviews and sent out his CV to all kinds of organizations, but he had not yet struck any luck. On top of this it had been a very traumatic year with tragedy striking him and his family, which had left to an estrangement and he did not have any close relationship with them anymore. This left him feeling very isolated and lonely, which didn't help with everything else going on. He had a date on his calendar of when he wouldn't be able to pay the rent of his apartment anymore. Just thinking of the fact that this date crept ever nearer gave him fits of anxiety and a tight knot in the pit of his stomach. Most day he didn’t feel there was much to live for. He had come into a very miserable day-to-day routine. To relieve himself of these feelings and keep his mind on other things he'd resorted to his more or less usual hobby of watching porn and jerking of several times a day. It had been a bad habit that had started in his early teens. Over the years the type of porn had developed in a way that even he himself wasn't sure he liked. In the beginning, it had been the normal softcore kind, blowjobs, fucking and generally good-looking guys being sexual together. Then he had explored the fetish and kinky kinds, and eventually he ended up in the realm of BDSM. This had become his obsession of the last few years. Leather, rubber, whipping, bondage, chastity, piercings, enslavement, objectification, serving a master. It turned him on like nothing else. Normal fucking scenes or blowjobs didn't even make him aroused anymore, he was completely hooked on hardcore BDSM and would often fantasize of being in such a scene himself. As Peter was a closeted homosexual and a virgin this was therefore the world in which he lived out his sexuality. A world of, to him, unrealistic fantasies. He knew he would never experience such things himself. How could he? He was by now highly educated academic which would find his place in the world and live a perfectly respectable life. Little did he know that fantasies sometimes aren’t that far away.    It was a humid and warm evening when Peter went out for one of his usual walks. He often took walks around the city, usually lasting an hour or two. He took one of his normal routes, which went through several parks and the outskirts of a small forest at the edge of the city. He was listening to the chirps of many birds up in the trees and craned his neck as he went, trying to spot some of them. His attention wasn’t focused on anything else. Perhaps this was the reason he didn't see them coming. Completely unprepared a wooden bat struck the back of his head, and darkness engulfed him. He was completely unaware of the two men picking him up from the forest path and carrying him to their car. Unknowing of the fact that they restrained him in the back of the car. He didn’t experience any of the long drive, or the carrying of him into the large house and down the stairs. In fact, he didn’t take notice of anything at all for several hours, until he woke up, much later.    His head hurt. He could feel a pressure on the back of his skull, something had hit him and he’d swollen up. What had happened? Where was he? He felt dizzy. Everything was a bit hazy. He had been out for a walk… and then… then what? With a jolt of fear Peter opened his eyes and the view of what was before him made him dizzy, he didn’t know where to look, and realizing his own predicament made him panic. The jolt of fear in his stomach felt like ice-cold liquid that spread throughout his body, numbing him. He felt himself starting to tremble and his gut caused unpleasant convulsions. His scalp became dewy with beads of sweat. He was in a very large room. A basement by the looks of it because where were no windows. But it was also much larger and had higher ceilings than was usual for a basement. But this was by far the least unusual thing about it. The floor was made from concrete and painted in a deep red. The walls were painted black, but this was hardly noticeable due to all the things that was attached to, hanging from or standing in front of them. Peter saw cages, stockades, whips, harnesses, rubber suits, gags, butt plugs, dildos, a fucking machine, manacles, shackles, leather belts, benches and medieval looking iron contraptions. In some places hooks and pulleys were attached in the ceiling and walls. There were also a great number of cupboards, all with their doors closed. At the far end, he saw a door that was open and seemed to lead to a corridor. And in the middle of the room there was a large sitting group of leather sofas and arm chairs, around a massive round table which seemed to be covered in a layer of shiny rubber. And in the biggest sofa, facing him from the other side of the table he saw them. Two men. The leather of the sofa creaked as they stood up and walked towards him. Peter understood what was going on. He had been kidnapped by these men and now they wanted to abuse him. But he didn’t want that. No. That was illegal. Fucking illegal. He hadn’t asked for this. He had to get out. Had to escape. He started to struggle but soon found that this was impossible. The men had stripped him naked and put a big ball gag in his mouth. Then they had attached leather cuffs to his wrists and ankles, each of which was locked by a padlock. The cuffs had then been attached to thick, steel wires that went to the ceiling and floor. Four steel wires each held a limb stretched out, keeping Peter in mid-air, hanging from his own wrists, in a great big cross. Not much movement was possible. Yet Peter tried. He flexed his fists, flexed the muscles of his entire body. Jerked his head in any direction he could. He tried to kick out. He screamed. He shrieked behind the gag but all that came out was muffled, incoherent nonsense. His wrists hurt. The struggling against the restraints caused burning due to friction. He started to cry as he looked into the eyes of the two men, trying to plead with them without words. The two men however did nothing. The quietly watched Peter struggle and panic himself into exhaustion, every now and then an evil grin flickered across their faces.  When he finally stopped struggling and his entire body was drenched in sweat, drool dripping from his chin and he felt lightheaded from the adrenaline wearing off, one of the men spoke.    “Hello, Peter”, said the man to the left. Through teary eyes Peter now started to take in their appearances, in spite of his fear and terror he couldn’t help but finding them breathtaking. The man who had just spoken was wearing leather pants, high leather boots, a leather vest and a leather police cap. He had leather armbands on both his upper arms and wrists. His nipples and septum were pierced and he sported a truly magnificent black beard. The other man, standing on the right simply wore a pair of latex or rubber leggings, short rubber boots and a pair of rubber gloves. Around his neck he had a thick metal chain, locked with a padlock. He had both his hair and beard trimmed short. Both of them had perfect physiques, and with their tanned, muscled bodies they looked like they might have just come from a fetish fashion show. “Good to see that you have calmed yourself down”, said the first man again. His voice was deep and a little hoarse. “- you seem to want to get out of there”, he continued. Peter answered by nodding his head as fast as he could up and down. Perhaps it was just a dream? He wanted to go home. He wanted out. His body was hurting. He sobbed behind the gag.    “However…”, said the man again as the man on the right, the man in rubber, started to walk towards him. “- little P doesn’t seem to want that, now does it?” He leered. Peter looked down and saw that his cock was fully erect, and standing tall. But that wasn’t because he was turned on surely, simply a biproduct of the fact that his struggling and adrenaline had caused such high blood flow. The rubbered man reached him and took his cock in one of his rubbered hands and started to jerk him off, with slow hard motions. Peter couldn’t help himself. He stopped sobbing and a small, high-pitched moan escaped him. The rubbered man jerking his penis grinned slightly. He felt so confused.    “You see, P, we have a… hm…. job proposition for you”, said the man in leather again and took a couple of steps towards him and staring him dead on in the eyes. Peter found his gaze extremely hard to face, and looked away, not able to keep looking into it. “- you see, we have monitored you for some time”, he continued and Peter looked back to him, not understanding what he meant. “We have been witnessing your internet activity for over a year now, including visited websites and search history. You really should make it harder for hackers to get into your computer, P”, he said and wagged his finger back and forth, making a tutting sound. “- and we found your internet activity to be interesting, to say the least. And we also know you are looking for a job.” Peter moaned again, the rubbered man who had been jerking him off had let go and had taken a firm grip around his balls and squeezed them hard, before then retreating and positioning himself again beside the other man who was doing all the talking. Peter couldn’t think straight, the shock, the pain and now the fact that he had been bugged confused him. He tried to just focus on continuing to listen.    “You see, for a few years now we have been talking to expand our family, as it has just been the two of us. But not with a cat, or a dog or a fucking adopted kid to take care of, no… but a little slave boy, to give us pleasure, and in return”, he paused suddenly, grabbed the rubbered man’s head and forced it towards him and met him in a violent kiss that turned into making out. The two men made out violently for a few seconds while Peter watched. An involuntary moan escaped him again, which made the two men break apart and watch him. “- and in return, the slave gets to learn its place in the world, serving us.”, he finished. Peter just stared at them. They were insane, criminals, dangerous people, and yet… images from his memory seemed to flicker before his eyes, the scenes of rubber slaves, gimps and objects in various forms of bondage that served their masters, and he was reminded of the feeling of jealousy, of frustration, of thinking that ‘if only that could be me’. But that had just been fantasies. Things like that didn’t really happen. This was absolutely insane.    “We don’t expect you to be able to answer immediately, so instead, let us give you a demonstration of the kinds of things we do here”, the leathered man said again, and then both of them began to move. For the next couple of minutes, they went about the room, collecting various toys and devices and brought them to the big table in the middle of the room. Peter’s arms, shoulders and back really started to hurt now from carrying his own bodyweight and he was still terrified of the situation, but less so than a minute ago, super horny thoughts had invaded his mind instead, and a small spark of excitement of what would happen to him kept the panic at bay. Also, if the men really had wanted to hurt him, they would already have done so. Sure - they had beaten him unconscious, but at least nothing worse had happened to him… yet.    The rubbered man approached him with a box that rattled as he went. From within the box he fished up a small thing of leather, metal and chains. It was a parachute that he, kneeling in front of Peter, attached around his balls. He then proceeded to lift a few weighted metal balls from the box, each with a hook on it, and attached it to the chains under the parachute. Peter felt how a heavy weight now tugged his balls down. It hurt a bit, but mostly it felt good. He shuddered slightly. Not out of fear this time, but out of satisfaction. He liked the way the tug felt. Next a blindfold was placed over his eyes. The inside of the blindfold was completely black. He was blinded. He had to rely on his hearing to sense what was going on. The next thing he knew was something slimy, cold and hard forcing its way into his ass. It wouldn’t go in. Then he felt a hand whipping him hard on one of his butt cheeks, and he forced his anus to relax and accept the intrusion as he felt his ass burn with the red imprint of a hand. His cock twitched. As he closed his sphincter around the object he got goose bumps all over his body. It felt so good. He could hear the two men chuckling. Next, he felt how what must be clothespins started to be attached to various areas of his body, his arms, legs, torso, and finally his nipples. His sensations were changing now. The pain didn’t really feel as painful as before, being hornier seemed to stifle it somehow. His mind was now playing tricks on him. Instead of focusing on his predicament and aiding him in trying to get out of the situation it instead replayed similar situations in his mind’s eye, how he finally got to sense what the men in all those clips had sensed. He was inside his fantasy. The next thing that happened pushed this feeling even further. He felt how something was done to the parachute tugging at his balls and the butt plug that was intruding inside his tight ass. Then a tickling sensation started, jolts of electricity shot through his ass and balls in prickling jolts. He could never have imagined such a sensation. It was incredible. In his wildest dreams, he would never have though that anything could feel so good. Then his entire body shuddered and he whimpered as a riding crop slashed through the air and hit the head of his erect cock, which at the moment felt harder and more pumped up than it had ever done before.    “Enjoying yourself, P?”, said one of the voices. Peter couldn’t answer but managed a bellowing, guttural sound from his throat. It wasn’t really an answer, more a reaction of the sudden stinging of his cockhead. The voices laughed. The whip slashed again, it burned his cockhead and shot waves of incredible sensations through his entire body. “Oh, you like the pain of that, do you, P? Quite the little pain pig, aren’t you, eh?”, said one of the voices. Peter didn’t answer. He was so horny he couldn’t think properly. He tried to thrust the air. His cock felt like it was about to explore. He had never been so horny in his entire life. The feeling was overwhelming, his entire guts seemed to be pressurized by the power of it.    “Just imagine it, P”, said the voice and whipped him again. Peter groaned. “- living here with us. Serving us. Becoming a slave, a pig, an object, just like you always wanted.” The whip slashed again and Peter felt how the electricity in his ass and balls became more intense. “Being put in various forms of bondage”, continued the voice and whipped him again. “- sleep sacks, stockades, hogties, suspensions, predicaments, isolation boxes, cells, or just acting like a piece of furniture in our home until we are ready to use you.”, the whip hit him again. A hand grasped around his cock and started to jerk him off in slow, hard motions. “Drinking our piss, being fucked in the throat, licking our cum off of our boots, and being fucked in that slave hole of yours as we see fit.” The whip hit him again, but this time attacking the various clothespins on his body, forcing them off and clattering to the floor. The hand jerked him harder and faster, keeping him right on the edge, but not for long. “So, what do you say P? Does it sound like fun?” Peter had trouble following what the voice said. Its words and the stimulation of his entire body was overwhelming him. He couldn’t think straight. He just knew that he didn’t want it to end, he wanted more. Then several things happened at once. The clothespins on his nipples were whipped off, intense pain shot through his body. He felt like he was floating. Then the ball gag in his mouth was removed at the same time as the hand jerking him off started to do it fast and vigorously. He felt the churning sensation of ejaculation bubbling inside him. He was about to come. “What do you say, P?”, the voice said again. “Is this what you want?” Waves of pleasure came over him. Filled his entire being. Every fiber of his body shook. The leather restraints creaked and the weights hanging from his balls clanked as he tensed every muscle in his body. Peter screamed his answer so loudly that his voice cracked and become hoarse. He came in an incredibly explosion of cum, emptying his storage of cum like it had never been emptied before. Before his ejaculation had ended however, the voice had smilingly said “Excellent.”, and reached down to lift something up from behind him that he hadn’t seen. It was a tank with an attached gas mask piece that went over Peter’s mouth and nose. “Prepare to be transformed”, said the voice as Peter inhaled the odd smelling gases. He was then plunged into darkness once more and his body became limp. The two men set to work.

***

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Things didn’t feel right. Where was he? What was going on? He opened his eyes but his vision was blurry. As things came into focus he started to remember. The men. The kidnapping. The dungeon. Him becoming their slave. What had he done? He had said yes. What the HELL had he done? Fuck. FUCK. He started hyperventilating and his body felt like it was heating up rapidly.    “Oh good morning, P”. Peter looked up and around him as his eyes acclimatized more to the light. He was still in the dungeon. And he was still gagged. Was it the morning after? Somehow, he felt like more timed had passed. An eerie feeling. Something definitely didn’t feel right. He had been dreaming. Loads. Lots of dreams. What had they been about? He couldn’t remember. It was all so confusing. He was still gagged. A large ball filled his mouth. And there were different things feeling odd with his body. There were pressures and weights in odd placed. His nose, his neck, his nipples, his cock, and his ass. And his head felt cold. What the fuck had happened?    “Do you know what alopecia universalis is, P?”, asked the voice. Peter’s eyes focused on the two men. The bearded man with piercings was now wearing high leather boots and a leather body harness, stretching from his shoulders down to his crotch. His cock was fully erect and stood out of the built-in cock ring in the harness. He was jerking it off slowly. At the end he had a massive PA piercing. The second man stood to the right of him as before. But this time wearing a full rubber cat suit, stroking his cock with his open, rubbered hand on outside of the suit. “Do you?”, the voice asked again. Peter shook his head. What the hell was going on? He wasn’t horny anymore. He wanted out. He wanted to go home. But he couldn’t. He was standing on the ground, a spreader bar seemed to keep his feet apart, and his hands were fastened in cuffs that were stretched towards the ceiling. His gag seemed to be fastened to some kind of head harness that wouldn’t allow him to tilt his head up or down, but forced to stare straight forward, facing the men.    “No? Well let me educate you, dear P. Alopecia universalis is a horrible autoimmune disorder, which is an extreme form of spot baldness. It causes a person’s follicles to be eradicated by its own body. And I mean all of it. The hair on your head, chest, arms, legs, around your genitalia, and even your eyebrows and eyelashes”. The man smiled. It was an evil thing. A leer. “The disorder is usually rare and seems to be hereditary. However. There are ways to induce it into healthy individuals. And this was the first modification we have done to you. You see, P. You have been sleeping for quite a long time. After you agreed to become our slave we put you into a medical coma, in order to transform you to a more suitable form before we start your training. And slaves are not allowed to have hair. Any hair. But having to shave the slave is really a bore, and we didn’t like that idea. So we found a more elegant solution. You don’t have a hair on your body left, and never will again.” The leathered man fell silent as the rubbered man went off to fetch something. What the fucking hell? A medical coma? Transformed? Never have hair again? He had no eyebrows? No eyelashes? He blinked his eyes. It felt different. Naked. He was in shock. He felt panic, sadness, terror and fear. But he was in shock. He didn’t seem to have enough substance to generate a reaction. He just kept staring. He felt empty. He saw the rubbered man return, pushing a full body mirror attached to a black wooden frame on wheels. It was turned away from Peter, so he couldn’t see himself. The rubbered man had also brought a rather large, hand-held mirror, which he handed to the leathered man who was doing all the talking.    “And we have made several other modifications also, P. And we must thank you for your imagination. Your browser history was a huge source of inspiration. You’re a sick little fuck, you know that?”, the man laughed softly. “So let’s take a look, shall we?” The man approached him with the mirror held to his side, so Peter couldn’t yet see himself. What else had they done? “Slaves”, the man continued. “- don’t have human names, now do they, P?”, the man had reached him and stretched up his free hand and grasped Peter’s chin and forced his head back and forth. “Noo, that’s right, they don’t. So that’s why we have given you a new name, you will forget your old one, and now I will present you with your new one.” The man raised the mirror and Peter saw his own face in it. An ice cold feeling spread throughout his entire body. He was petrified. He was wearing a head harness, with a large, red ball gag invading his mouth. He had no hair at all. His scalp was completely naked and shiny. He had no eyebrows. No eyelashes. His nose was pierced. A septum piercing. It was large, a heavy, shiny metal ring was hanging from his nose. He looked completely different. Though these things were nothing in comparison to what they had done to his forehead. “Welcome into slavery, PIG, “said the man with powerful emphasis on the last word, smiling at Peter’s petrified gaze. “It is a bit medieval, I agree, but you did seem to find it hot, judging from your attempts to find pictures of it on the web, first we branded it into your forehead using hot irons, and then when it healed up, we filled the letters in by tattooing the scarred skin.” He looked transfixed at his forehead. In big, black letters, indented into his very skin of the forehead it spelled out ‘PIG’. He was ruined. Completely ruined. They had destroyed him. He would never be able to go out again. Never rejoin society. He started to cry. He sobbed and felt regret and fear as his vision become blurry with tears. He wanted to die. He didn’t want this. He wanted it to end. His life was ruined. What had he gotten himself into? He cried so hard that he gasped for breath through his nose, almost starting to cough. “Now, now, pig”, said the voice again, and a surprisingly gentle hand brushed away his tears so he could see properly again. “- cheer up, we have more things to show you!” He didn’t want to see anything else. He didn’t want to do anything else. He wanted out. He wanted to go home. He wanted this to never have happened. He yanked his restraint. He tried to scream. But he soon gave up. He couldn’t go anywhere. He couldn’t escape.    The man stepped away from him. “You can’t see or feel it now”, the man continued, “but there’s a surprise waiting for you inside your mouth as well. As you are well aware of, your tongue is going to be one of the most important instruments for serving us. In order for you to be able to give us more pleasure, we decided to split it. Your tongue is now split in the middle, almost three inches deep. We also cut the web under it, allowing it to extend further.” He listened to the man as from a great distance. He registered the man’s words but couldn’t really process them. He wiggled around his tongue as much as he could in his mouth. It felt more loose than before. “And the collar you are wearing has been custom-made for your specifications.” He saw a round, shiny collar of hard metal around his neck, it was rather big and thick, but not too oversized. “And it is a true marvel of engineering”, the man continued. “-it has a built in shock unit, so that if the pig misbehaves we can use it to instill some discipline. And as you seem to love body modification so much we have also pierced your nipples”, the man continued and held the hand-held mirror a few steps away from the him so that he could see his torso. Two large piercings were set through his nipples. He also saw that his body had changed somewhat. “As you can see you have also lost some of that fat, making your features more defined. During the coma we were sure to give you various types of steroids to offset any muscle atrophy while still maintaining some weight loss, which has made your body look even hotter, don’t you think, pig?” He didn’t know what to think. He had visible abs, somehow, he was thin, but he had visible muscles. Despite his shock and terror, he felt a small pressure between his legs.    “But now”, said the man and walked away from him and tossed the hand-held mirror on one of the leather arm chairs in the middle of the room. “- it’s time for the main attraction, are you ready pig?” The man went towards the full-length mirror and brought it closer and turned it around. The pig could now see its full body in the mirror. And what it saw behind its legs made it shriek in shock. He squealed behind his gag. “Calm down, pig!”, said the man. “It’s not as bad as you think, look at this”, he said and held up something metal. It was a curved barbell. But large. Very large. “This particular modification is entirely thanks to your inspiration, pig”, said the man and smiled. “As you know, slaves are to be kept in chastity at all times, little pig cocks aren’t meant to be erect, or to cum, but to be contained and remain under lock and key. However, a chastity device, just as with body hair, requires some upkeep. It needs cleaning and whatnot, and it might break. And it is not always effective in preventing erections. So we have given you this.” The man indicated the big barbell again. “We have stretched your urethra, and then made a small incision into it urethra just behind the ball sack, we then inserted this barbell like a sound into the head of the slave cock, and pushed the cock, with the barbell in it, as far into the body as possible, until the barbell came out through the new hole behind the balls. We then attached the second ball to the barbell, effectively locking the slave cock inside the body. And don’t worry, pig, we sealed the barbell with two-part epoxy, to make sure it won’t come loose. And how will you pee, you might ask? Well, that was a problem, indeed. So we made a new incision into the urethra, a bit further back, closer to your asshole. Two new holes for the slave. Isn’t that nice, pig?” The pig stared into the mirror. He could see his ball sack clearly. And above it, there was a metal ball barely protruding where his cock used to be. His entire cock was restrained inside the body, held there by a barbell that came out behind his balls. It was the hottest thing he had ever seen. Complete chastity. And above the metal ball, in a slight arc, ‘SLAVE’ had been tattooed in big black block letters. He moaned slightly and felt a pressure build up inside him. His cock was trying to become erect but couldn’t. The feeling of pressure was immense. It hurt. “Ah yes, the pig DOES like that, doesn’t it?”, said the leathered man and went forward and patted the pig on the cheek. “Good pig.” He couldn’t help it. The horniness of it all invaded his mind. It was taking over.    The rubbered man started to move the mirror away. “Oh and one last thing, but it’s a bit hard to show at the moment, so we have this photo instead”, said the man and went to fetch a polaroid from the rubber-clad table in the middle of the dungeon. “We have decorated your slave ass a bit, to make things a bit easier and more fun”. He moaned as the man held up the polaroid and he saw what was on it. It was polaroid of his ass cheeks. And they had been tattooed. Each cheek had been tattooed with a large, black bullseye. “I’m sure you understand the purpose of that don’t you pig?”, said the man and went to put the polaroid back. He felt utterly confused. The last couple of minutes had been a roller coaster ride of emotion. Was he terrified or horny? Did he want out or did he want more? The horniness of what they had transformed him into came over him. It was a dream come true, but better. He was getting everything he had ever wanted but would never in entire lifetime had the courage to seek out. For now he was absorbed by the feeling of extreme horniness and the extreme pressure of his cock trying to get erect inside his body.    “And now”, said the man who began to speak again as the rubbered man returned to his side. “- it’s time to begin your training, pig. The pig has so much to learn, how to serve, how to lick, how to pleasure us, we need to work on removing the pig’s gag reflex, the pig’s hole needs to be stretched, and the pig must learn how to wait for its masters. And that is the first lesson we are going to give the pig. We have to go away for a few hours, so we are going to put the pig in a more comfortable slave position while it has to wait for us.” The words only added to its crazed, horny state. During the next five minutes or so the pig had the head harness removed, his ball gag replaced with a gag consisting of a hollow tube, enabling it to breathe through its mouth and a snug rubber hood put over its head, obscuring its vision and blocking its nose. It all happened so quickly that there was no opportunity to try and communicate. Then its arms and legs were freed and four strong hands forced it down on its stomach. A boot held its head firmly in place, pressed against the concrete floor. It knew that any struggle was pointless and simply obeyed by staying limp. Then its limbs were brought together in a tight hogtie. The hogtie was then attached to a metal wire and the turning of a crank could be heard as the pig’s body was partly raised up from the floor, hanging from the hogtie. It’s elbows and knees no longer touched the floor, but only the middle part of its torso.      “Comfortable, pig?”, said the man and trod on the pig’s balls which were sticking out from behind its ass on the floor. The pig moaned in pain. “Good pig”, the man said. Then the two men could be heard walking away, through the corridor on the other side of the dungeon, and then the sound of their boots ascending a staircase slowly faded away. Darkness. Silence. The pig was lying on the floor. It could feel its cock trying to get hard inside its body, a tight pressure. It could feel its muscles in its limbs being stretched out by the hogtie. It could feel its jaws being stretched out by the gag. It could feel its mouth starting to get dry by being forced to breathe without its nose. It could feel the piercings in its nipples dangling slightly as it tried to move. It could hear the panting of its own lungs. It could hear the creaking of its restraints. It could hear its own thoughts. They were running wild. A battle was taking place in its mind. The fear and terror it had felt only minutes ago was still there, but contained. Then there was the feeling of horniness, a warm feeling of enjoyment. Was this really what it wanted? To not have a normal life? To not be anyone? To simply exist to serve, to obey someone else? It didn’t even know the names of its captors. No responsibilities, only obeying orders. But this wasn’t the plan. All those years of preparations and education. All for nothing. But was there really a choice to be made?    The hours went on as the pig’s inner battle of wills raged in its mind. Moments of enjoyment and moans of pleasure were replaced by moments of panic attacks and fear. Several times the pig hyperventilated itself into fainting. Its body was hurting. The strain of the hogtie was starting to take its toll. And as more time passed its conscious strain of thoughts simply seemed to evaporate, replaced by a state of simply being. Blissful oblivion in the silent darkness. But in the end, pain overtook it. Pain and hunger.

*** By the time its captors returned they found the pig sobbing in pain, exactly where they had left it. Not that it had any chance of moving. They walked towards it. The man who dressed in leather spoke to it again. “What’s the matter pig, missing us so much it’s crying?”, he said and stepped with his boot on the pig’s tattooed ass cheek. The pig moaned in pain between the sobs. It didn’t want this. The pain was too much. “But guess what, pig?”, the man said again. “We’ve decided the pig is going to be allowed to keep us company tonight. But first it’s time to feed the pig.”    The next thing the pig knew something was attached to the gag in its mouth. It was a funnel attachment. The pig started to protest as much as it could as the warm liquid found its way down in its mouth. The taste was awful. Rancid. And yet the idea of it drinking its masters piss turned it out. Yet it struggled, moaned and jerked with its head. “Be still”, the man commanded and the pig felt its head being grabbed and held still. The two men then swapped positions and a second load of piss was emptied into the funnel. The pig coughed for air as it tried to swallow it all. There were moments of panic and asphyxiation when it struggled for air. “Good pig”, said the man again when both their bladders were emptied. “And we have one last surprise for you pig,” said the man and seemed to walk away. The pig could hear his steps on the floor walking away from it. “Pigs shouldn’t eat food and drink meant for normal humans”, the voice said as it came back and the pig felt as something was inserted to its ass. Then the man fiddled with the thing he had just inserted in the pig’s ass and the pig could feel it expand slightly. When it tried to push it out it found that it couldn’t. It was a locking ass plug. It was locked inside. It hurt a bit. Though nothing in comparison to the ache in the rest of its body. “- so we have come up with an elegant solution.”, continued the man and the pig could hear a pumping sound. It felt how the thing in its asses expanded even more and how it started to strain against its innards. It hurt even more now. “This is no ordinary butt plug, pig, in fact, it is the nicest of all our gifts to the pig. It locks into place, it is inflatable to a certain degree, and it has a hollow opening throughout. Ordinarily a rod will be placed inside and it will be just like any other butt plug. But for the rest of the pig’s life it will be removed twice a day.”, the man continued and walked away. The pig could hear the footsteps and the clanking and fiddling with something. It hadn’t understood what the man meant. Removed twice a day? It couldn’t help liking the feeling of the plug filling it up. It gave the pig a certain feeling of being content. Then it could feel something being done to the plug, and then the rushing and unpleasant sensation of a cold liquid flowing through its ass and into its gut. “We are now feeding the pig with the pig’s specially prepared soup, consisting of various nutrients a pig needs, which will be absorbed by the pig’s intestines”, said the man as the liquid continued to flow. The pig felt his stomach being filled and it felt bloated. “Then we simply plug it up. Let the soup be absorbed. And then we can empty the pig and clean it with an enema. Though most will come out as piss of course, with it being a liquid”, continued the voice. The pig felt its hood being torn off. As its eyes began to focus they quickly found the eyes of its master. The master knelt and grabbed the pig’s chin in its hand and stared at it. “You will never eat again, pig. It’s only piss, spit and cum for you now, understand?”, the man said in a threatful voice. The pig was in shock. It nodded with its sore neck. “Good pig”, the man whispered in a husky voice and stood up. “And now we are going to prepare for our evening with our new pet, we will be back soon, pig!”, said the man and the pig could see them both walk away. It was in shock. It could feel the rancid taste of piss in its mouth. It would never eat again. It would only be allowed to consume piss and cum? That wasn’t humane. Nothing of this was. It was all absurd. The pig let out a fain moan. It was so horny.    A while later the pig’s masters returned and let it down from the hogtie. The pig moaned of pleasure and relief this meant for its tortured limbs. It was a heavenly feeling. It felt so light. It was amazing. Its heavy gut slushed with the liquid inside as it moved. A blindfold was the placed over its eyes, and its hands was tied behind its back. The pig was then led by its masters across the floor, through the corridor and up a staircase. It was then led into its master’s TV room, unknowing of this since it couldn’t see anything and nothing was making any noise. The room had been prepared for the pig’s arrival. In front of the sofa, where a coffee table would have normally stood, a stockade had been placed. The pig was forced down and locked into it. It’s neck, wrists and ankles were locked into it so that the pig was standing on its forearms and shins. Then the funnel was again attached to the gag. Then the pig felt as something was inserted into its body behind its asshole. It was a catheter, inserted into the new incision made in its urethra and led into its bladder. The catheter was then attached inside the funnel attached to the gag, so that the pig would have to recycle its own piss. “Guess what pig”, the man said. “You are being given a big treat tonight as part of our welcome of you as our slave, you are going to be our footstool for the evening.” The pig moaned. “But we are also disappointed that the pig wasn’t more grateful of its transformation, so we are also going to be giving the pig its first punishment”, continued the man. “This”, said the man and rattled something. “- is ground up rose hip fruits, is the pig familiar with rose hip?”, asked the man. The pig shook its head. “Well the pig should know that it is a very delicious fruit, however, there are fine hairs inside the fruit that make for the most excellent itching powder.” The next thing the pig knew something was being smeared and massaged on its ass cheeks by gloved hands. Within a minute his ass had begun to burn and itch, more extreme and severe like any itch it had ever felt before. It was pure agony. Then it felt as ear plugs was placed into its ears and how a pair of ear protectors was placed over them.    The pig’s masters turned on the TV, fetched their beverages and sat down in the sofa. They both extended their legs and rested their boots on the pig’s back in front of them. The pig was moaning and whimpering. It was turning them on. They made out on the sofa. They loved their new family member. It was perfect. The pig wasn’t enjoying itself quite as much though it seemed. Its body was aching, its ass cheeks burning and itching, and it desperately wiggled around in the stockade trying to relieve some of the itchiness. The pressure of the liquid inside its gut combined with the piss it had drunk a while earlier caused pee to drizzle into its own mouth. Realizing that they were forcing it to recycle its own piss made it even hornier. It felt the weight of its master’s boots on its back. It felt so good not being isolated anymore. Then, suddenly, it felt a riding crop fall down on its ass with a hard blow. The moment of the impact relieved all the itchiness, if only for a second, and it longed to be whipped again. The sensation had been wonderful. It moaned and swallowed some more of its own piss. The pressure of its cock inside its body was driving it crazy. It had never been hornier. And the horniness had won. It didn’t want this moment to end. It was a pig, and it had never been happier.