Story:Boys Should Be Seen, part 5

Boys Should Be Seen

Part 5

Contains: Rubber, bondage, non-consent, mind control, SciFi

Copyright © 2007 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

What follows is a piece of fiction. Any similarity to living persons is coincidental. The author does not condone the activities described herein, though he has been known to enjoy similar activities himself.

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I watched the lad through the monitors. He was definitely as promising as my Associate at the Abyss Bar has told me. One day, I hope to find out where his insight into the minds of these boys comes from. The deliveryman was equally interesting. I may ask my Associate if he could arrange that as well some time.

‘My Associate’, that’s how I thought of him. I’d heard him give a half-dozen different names over the past several years when we’d come in contact with each other. Each of them was a legitimate legal entity. Over the years, I’d run investigations into one identity or the other. My inquiries never turned up anything out of the ordinary. In one case, my investigator disappeared. I got the message, “Okay, mate. You’ve had your fun, now stop digging.” None of them, I was certain, was the real man. Who was I, though, to question the man’s preference for privacy? He has never questioned my desire for silence in my home. So I let it drop.

Silence is golden, and my home is quiet. The door hinges are oiled, the floors carpeted. There is not but one squeaking floor board in the place… in the palace. In a city of millions of people, I certainly own a mansion: The top three floors in one of the older building in the city. I’ve earned it. Over the years, I’ve made fortunes and lost them, only to make a larger fortune the next time. Coming close to a half-century in age, though, I decided it was time to stop amassing fortunes and enjoy this one.

The boy. Yes. He was my newest acquisition. I’d had boys before. Flighty things I’d picked up in bars. This one was different, though. For one, he was innocent and naïve. Most of the ones I could get to talk to me when I went out were obviously game players. This one was in the scene long enough to start finding out what he wanted, but not long enough to become jaded or understand what could happen to him if the wrong person found him. Of course, if he failed to learn what I intended to teach him, I would *be* the wrong person.

He’d quit his job, sublet his apartment and his family had received his email about going hiking across Southeast Asia. Not that he’d actually done these things himself. But if the boy didn’t behave himself and learn his lessons, his body would turn up somewhere in… I think Nepal would be nice.

But I shouldn’t linger on the negative. The boy was turning out to be a wonderful training subject. The mild hypnotic sedatives in his food and the sleep deprivation were working well with the subliminal messages to carve a nook inside his head. He’d been in the isolation and cleaning room now for a week.

One of the advantages of making fortunes is making contacts. While brokering deals between medical firms, again tipped off by my Associate, I came across some rather interesting technologies. Decades ahead of their time, I purchased the R&D group and have kept them under my personal supervision.

I’d truly enjoyed watching the colon-snake doing its work. The fibrous metal mesh lining of the proboscis was so fine as to nearly be a living skin. Five sessions with the colon-snake had been effective in cleaning him out, performing rather in-depth medical tests and seeding the nanoscopic technological devices throughout his body.

I looked back at the screen, at the boy, sweating and straining on the rubber mat near the door to his chamber. He learned quickly, and I now only needed to tell him once what to do. As I’d hoped, he learned visual cues. Even in his sleep, he no longer made those actions I deemed out of bounds. His metal-encased hand stopped straying towards his crotch or neck. Some negative reinforcement had been necessary and would continue as needed.

I raised my hand to my right ear and pressed imperceptibly just below. My link to the chamber and to him was established. I heard the slightly sub-vocal moans the boy was straining to suppress as the Escher-like device probed his rectum. I made some motions over the table, and a 3d image of the boy and the device appeared, in real time.

It was time I spoke to him again. He responded well to the sound of my voice. Yesterday, I had the containment loin piece begin mild ministrations of his cock and balls matching the timbre of my voice and patterns of my speech. It's made him even more attentive to my instructions.

"Relax boy, let the equipment complete its work."

I watched the 3d display, seeing the colon snake bulging and retracting from the boy's rectum, stretching it out for use later when he was finished. The nanotechnological devices began to register on the floating display, showing that they had not only seeded the entirety of his large intestine, but had progressed further up his colon. They serve many purposes, but for now, they are primarily acting to repair any microfissures and tears in the lining of his colon from the harsh work of the colon snake.

The nanotech also provides me with constant feedback on boy's physical state: hormone levels, blood sugar, endorphins. The array of information I was getting on this boy was astounding.

I'm sure many people would be horrified at how I'm putting this technology to use, when it could be put to to humanitarian purposes. I may do that eventually, but it's my toy, and I'll decide when and how to share it with humanity. I've already got ideas on that front.

But my mind wanders, back to the boy.

"You're doing well, boy." I praised him as the colon snake finished its exit. "You're showing promise. Your obedience is pleasing to me." I flexed my hand over the instrument panel, and a soft click sounded in the isolation room as the boy's metal-mitted hands detached from the magnetic restraints, though the boy did not move. He knelt there, waiting.

"Excellent, boy. Now stand, walk back to the wall, and wait for further instructions." The boy followed my orders with a fluid, noiseless motion. No hesitancy showed in his actions. I was definitely pleased.

Many days passed like this, as I monitored the progress of the nanotech incorporation into the boy's digestive track. In addition to monitoring and augmenting they boy's health, the microscopic devices served other purposes. For one, they gave him an unparalleled digestive system. Zero solid waste was produced because everything that went into his colon was processed. One hundred percent efficiency.

Within two weeks, the slow treatment of his intestines along with the nanotech replication had resulted in a complete lining from his sphincter all the way to the duodenum. The boy's augmented intestines were ready for the next stage.

His obedience was already startling. Some days I spent four or five hours with direct control over the process, fine tuning the boy's mental conditioning. Most days, though, I spent at most an hour, letting the computers manage the process. Even accepting the boy was being brainwashed, drugged and manipulated, his natural desire for subservience shone through. I was pleased.

The nanotech devices didn't stop at the intestinal track, mind you. A small percentage traversed the boy's blood stream, setting up small colonies at vital organs, reinforcing them, monitoring blood content, and linking into the nervous system at key points. My little devices are already at point in the product development where we can completely control the body if I wanted. If I'd wanted, I could have made a slave who was a prisoner in his own body.

My goal was to make the boy happy to serve. I may be twisting the boy's brain to suit my needs, but it's not shattered. He really does want to serve someone, I simply will give him direction.

Yesterday, I released his hands from the metal mitts and neck from the heavy collar as well as his crotch from the loin containment device. There remained foil thin metal bands skin tight around his neck and wrists. These were actually dermal extrusions of the nanotech, forcing themselves to the surface.

I knew it was there, though I could not see it except on the console display or under black light. A web of the nanotech covered the boy's body. with varying thicknesses, various focal nodes. In some places it followed obvious vascular structures and in other places it seemed like a haphazard scattering of netting.

As I watch him through the monitors today, I am rewarded to see him assume the position as the colon snake once again probes him. Though this time, he takes the procedure completely unfettered. Today is a change, though, as the proboscis deposits a thick black substance in the boy's intestine on its way out. The material has a tar-like quality which seeps out the boy's ass. He obviously noticed, but made no move to respond. And when the proboscis full retracted from his ass and began to spray the pitch black viscous substance over the rest of him, his face showed only a look of relaxed acceptance.

Standing and walking away from the display, my console automatically disabled itself. Out of my office, and down a dark corridor I walked, sidestepping the robotic cart ferrying the colon snake back to its storage room. The door remained open and the boy remained on the floor in his bowed kneeling position, his ass up in the air.

I reached out with one hand and stroked the boy's ass. The black slime coating the boy was adhering to itself and the boy with terrific tenacity, and yet not a drop stuck to my hand. Probing with one finger, I reached inside and mercilessly massage the boy's prostate, causing an obvious stirring in the boy's tar-covered genitals. The only part of the boy's body not completely covered by the substance was his head.

Pulling my finger out of his ass, I marveled at how the tar continued to fail to adhere to my skin. Of course, I knew this would happen. I walked around to the boy's head and squated in front of him. His head was still hanging face down, as he always did during the rectal treatments.

In all this time, he'd not seen my face, only heard my voice. Sometimes definitive and in the foreground, but always whispering to him in his sleep. I hooked a finger under his chin and slowly and gently nudged his face up.

"Look at me boy." My boy's bright blue eyes looked up to mine with fear, awe and wonder. "You've almost completed your training. Now comes your final piece. In a short while, you'll begin to feel cramps throughout your body and your skin will feel like it's burning. These sensations will last several hours." A look of fear stole across the boy's face as I stroked it gently with my other hand.

"Your training to this point has prepared you. Remember that training and you'll make me proud." The fear in his eyes melted, but was suddenly replaced with pained surprise accompanied by a sharp intake of breath. "Remember your breathing boy."

Small convulsions wracked the boy's body destroying his balance and he collapsed to the floor, curling and convulsing in silent agony. "When the pain stops, this door will be open. Cross the hall and clean yourself up. You will find me in my study." With that, I stood and left the room. I was fairly certain that the boy would survive the process I had started within him. However, there was always a chance I had made an error.