Please see original story (www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/turntable-rehabilitation-services/) for warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights reserved. Included dominant/submissive, BDSM and coercive sex between men. Go away if any of that is against your local rules. Practice safer sex than my characters. Write if you like but I will write you into the nasty bits of a future story if you flame me. Donate to Nifty TODAY at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html
The lunchroom has emptied. The six of us are broken and crushed, longing for the privacy of our rooms. Denied. A handler comes to escort each of us, reeking and weeping, to our next class. I am done. I have nothing left. I am Pee-Pee Boy, Damian is defeated for this battle but undaunted. I walk meekly behind the minder to a classroom, and don't object as he secures my left wrist to the desk. Every humiliation and outrage at lunch flashes before me. As a woman comes in and announces that she will teach us, I allow my mind to slip away. But who slips? Damian and Pee-Pee Boy still struggle to be... me.
***** Turntable Rehabilitation Services 6: When is Pain Pleasure? By Bear Pup
M/M/M+; piss; humiliation; serious BDSM; g-spots; pleasure/pain nexus; anal
And my mind-slip lasts for mere moments. That bitch is merciless. It's as if she can instantly tell when someone's attention wanders for a second. And if that's not bad enough, failure to answer first results in a pop inside my ass, jolting my cock to hardness and making me jump. A second lapse and it's a jolt of that pain-juice down my spine. One guy, perhaps 19 or 20, becomes angry and defiant and ignores that ass-pleasure and spine-pain. About two words into a tirade he simply... falls asleep.
The rest of us, perhaps 15 guys, stare, wide-eyed as two large men come in and pick him up effortlessly. The teacher looks at them and says, "He's not ready. Let the Director know that he needs plenty more time in the primary room, and perhaps several more cafeteria sessions, please?" A ripple of gasps and fearful murmurs flows through the room; apparently I was not the only one to have had those... experiences. The thought does not calm me; it makes me realise just how methodical and controlled this programme might be.
The teacher instructs us to call her Examiner. The subject is mathematics. She punishes us with questions starting with simple arithmetic to algebra and more. She points to one of us and asks questions quickly, often referring to something showing on a huge screen behind her. Wrong answers get a jolt and a stern, "Concentrate!" or "Try Again!" but I notice a pattern. You can tell when someone really doesn't get something but tries hard, opposed to not bothering. After two or three questions get that response in a row Examiner subtly stops asking many questions to that particular victim.
I reach my own limit in powers of fractions, having just barely made it through geometry stuff with a number of bumps. When a new subject comes up, as when geometry did, she randomly returns to certain students. One guy, about my age, was completely lost with fractions by got back into the groove with geometry.
Eventually, she is down to two victims and both are sweating, apparently terrified that this is some sort of Last Man Standing competition with the loser bound for punishment. With an abruptness that shocks all of us, Examiner turns off the screen and simply leaves the room.
A Runner comes in and calls four names, Teeny-Weeny, Ass Lick, Bedwetter and Twinkie. All four are red with humiliation as it has been over two hours since they had been reminded of their names, and the entire group of men are smirking. The smirks flee when the next runner comes for three names, Droopy-Drawers, Sweet Lips and... Pee-Pee Boy. I am flushed with shame at hearing that name called, but stand dutifully, finding that my wrist restraint has already detached from the desk.
The process is repeated for English and History before we are sent back to our hospital rooms and fed dinner. After, though, Ian comes back and proceeds with the emasculating bathroom exercise. I want to scream, treated like a little fucking boy at lessons and unable to even clean himself. I sigh with relief that the little pacifier-like toy does not go back in my ass. Perhaps I will finally have a moment's peace.
Any thoughts of that vanish when Ian escorts me back to the immense, thick door. I know what lays beyond, the mirror room. I again struggle and scream and beg as four massive titans effortlessly attach me back to the table. I watch myself weep in the mirror, unable to turn away. I can see the bowel-twisting fear in my face.
The sinister voice is again seated next to my ear.
"So, Pee-Pee Boy, today has been about testing you, first physically, then testing your acceptance of who and what you are, and then beginning to test your learning and intelligence. Lastly, tonight we'll start your sexual testing."
Top Toy fades into being behind me as he enters the lit area and begins to lay out things from his satchel. He swabs me and I feel a burning as he injects me.
"As always, Pee-Pee Boy, we'll tell you exactly what is being done and what you should expect. Sexuality, both psychological and physiological, is complex and unique to each person. The injection is similar to others you've had but is not intended to enhance pain response, but to ensure that pleasure responses are clear and easily measured. Over the next few weeks, we'll find what triggers you or turns you off. I don't mean what you think does those things, but by measuring your body's actual responses."
Top Toy's huge and oiled muscles move around me, attaching sensors to various places, especially around my scalp and face. I gasp as a tight ring is fitted around the base of my flaccid cock, and another snug around my nuts. I whimper as Top Toy approaches those areas, vividly recalling the pain he and others have inflicted.
"Tonight, we will start with some simple tests, pleasure-pain responses. Please feel free to make any noises you like. Top Toy is used to them and I find them... satisfying."
I suddenly feel something, soft as a whisper and as insistent as the wind on the seam between my balls and ass. My taint comes alight; I gasp and watch as my cock thickens and swells. There is vibration (wonderful) and massaging (meh) and licking (OMG). The unseen tool is reversed in Top Toy's hands and a massive PINCH in the same area causes me to cry out. Several more pinches of different intensity and sharpness follow, each eliciting a squeal or squeak. Lastly, a jolt of electricity forces a shout from my lungs. My cock, though, is harder than ever.
"You see, Pee-Pee Boy, that your body reacted strongly and positively to sensations your mind interpreted as pain and others it interpreted as pleasure. Both made you hard, ready and, if I'm seeing what I think I am, wet as well. In fact," the queer consults a tablet in his hand and I watch the horror mount on my face, "your strongest sexual response was to pain there. I think you will be having a LOT of fun with that one over the rest of your time here."
My nuts are next and I finally see the device being used on me. The end currently in contact with me is equipped with various shapes that look soft or sensitive, and I can feel the thing massage my balls and then caress them, then flutter against them with featherlike, teasing strokes. I nearly purr. I've always oved having my nuts played with when a girl gives me head. I almost don't notice the sharp and pinchy end come into play. A powerful THUMP causes an eruption of agony to launch through me and I nearly retch. I see my dick wilt like ice in a blast furnace.
I am again horrified when I see my balls get pricked and jabbed and pinched sharply, not only because of the pain, but because I can see my dick fluff up some. The worst is the flash of an electric charge that zaps a howl from my throat and a surge of dogwater from my cock. I start to cry in earnest now, as my body betrays how much certain types of pain thrill me.
I groan in deep relief when Top Toy pulls back, then again in terror when he begins the process on my nipples. The tool he's using has apparently-endless settings. My body thrills as the feel of butterfly kisses bring my nips to full attention, and am surprised that a caressing does nothing, nor a vibration, but a sharp tug reduces my need and a sharp pinch hurts so bad I scream but also harden and drip. Again, the worst is the electric zip that is like a dart sticking me but yanks at my nuts, bringing me close to the edge.
I am weeping non-stop now, as each stop has me begging for either more or less. My ears and neck respond to a licking caress, but even a hard pinch neither excites nor deflates me. My armpits react well to the licking nipping sensations, but (other than a very negative response from the zap) nothing else registers at all, even pulling the hairs. Both painful nips and shocks along on my sides have the same erotic impact as feather-light touches, but caresses, massages and vibration leave me cold. Hands are nothing but a turn-off, and I finally go fully soft for the first time since he punched my nuts.
My panic reaches a new peak, though, when I see his go for my feet. Since I could remember, my feet have been sensitive, ticklish and could lead to... No; too humiliating to think about. Every sensation Top Toy inflicts causes my dick to twitch, throb and leak, every pain and pleasure exactly the same... until he gets to the feather-light touches, up and down the sole. I begin to giggle maniacally and am overwhelmed with relief when Top Toy goes to move on.
And that fuck queer's sinister voice, dripping with mirth, tells his to keep at it. My giggling becomes laughter, physically-painful laughter that rips through me. I scream and beg and cry and plead. Anything but this. And then it happens. Just as when I was a toddler, a child. I feel it build and built, powerless to stop it and powerless to resist.
With a giggling scream, piss erupts from me in near-orgasmic squirts. Long, heavy pulses of piss that blow from my painfully-hard prick and shoot as far as the floor directly beneath my face. Still Top Toy persists until my stream is gone and I am gasping and desperate.
"Enough for now. But very... interesting, Pee-Pee Boy. Proceed, Top Toy."
He gives me no time to catch my breath, and I go from inane giggle to full-throated roar as there is a mighty ZAP that spears the tender flesh of my asshole. Every sensation, again, elicits a scream, a howl, a shriek of misery, and every one pushes a new flood of dogwater from the tip of my cock. The nip, the pinch, the flutter, the probe, the caress, insistent thump. I can feel it every time and know they can tell. Sobbing in grief and humiliation, I feel the probing move to the cheeks of my ass and frankly cannot even think about what those sensations do or fail to do for me. The echoes of what my ass-lips have just been put through shudder and quake through my body and my soul.
And then it strikes me: I see Top Toy sit cross-legged next to me and move his hand and that terrible tool forward. I begin to beg and grovel, saying anything, promising everything, whatever might, just might, at least delay what I know is about to happen.
He starts on the shaft near the base. First with feather-touch, then vibration, then caressing, then licking, then a fine hum, all of them driving me wild with need. Then the pinching, screaming; grabbing, crying; scraping, keening; abrading, shrieking. He then begins to run the zapping round and round, right where my already-abused nuts try to squirm and crawl away from the terrible touch.
He pulls back and waits until my hollers run down and my breathing returns to simple sobs. And now onto the middle shaft, with similar results. Now near the head. I am quite literally out of my mind by this point, ranting and screaming out curses and fragments of words and sounds.
Then it all... stops, and stops abruptly. I hear that sinister voice at my ear, but it is an insect buzz irrelevant to my blasted mind and recovering body. This goes on for a short eternity. Vaguely, I start to sense sounds, then words, then meaning. I guess he sees some sort of life come back to my eyes. He stops speaking for a moment. I look down and see in the reflection that, regardless of everything else, my cock is still thick, no longer so desperately hard but certainly engorged. I blush in shame.
"Ah, welcome back, Pee-Pee Boy. Yes, that part always does take it out of a new rehabilitation patient. I hate to tell you, though, that the next part is really just as bad. Proceed, Top Toy, proceed."
I scream until my lungs are empty as that implement of torment moves slowly to my foreskin. My voice goes from growls to girlish trills as that thing plays across my meaty, sensitive and lusty skin. Other than getting my balls played with, a girl chewing and nibbling my foreskin is my favourite part of sex, even beyond a long-dicking or a brutal fuck. What Top Toy is doing to me now is unbearable; pleasure and pain merging to interchangeable waves of ecstasy.
I sense -- neither feel nor see -- my foreskin fully retracted and tucked behind the head of my dick by his agile, strong hands. The gentler sensations like tickling and teasing do nothing here but keep me on the knife's edge of need. Vibration makes me growl and pant; caresses, licks and massages make me purr a little as they flow from piss-slit to flange. Then the pricking and the pinching sets in, the sharp sensations making me cry out in rhythmic, lust-infused grunts and howls... then the zapping starts.
I have never screamed with such need, such animalist demand, such primordial lust. Each zap sends me to heaven, zipping and jumping from piss-slit around the head and back. It is when he finally gets to the very rear surface of my flared and purplish head, though, that my world explodes. He runs the zapping, electric torment across the most-protected nerves in my body and my entire body cums. It is rapture. My nipples shoot wad after wad. My fingers and toes ejaculate. Every muscle cooperates to expel the endless orgasm. It is more than all-encompassing, it is all-consuming. And then, like a light switch thrown, it is nothing at all.
As always, let me know your thoughts. Some of your more... inventive comments have really helped in his rehabilitation programme.
Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay... Karl & Greg: 16 chapters .../incest/karl-and-greg/ Canvas Hell: 13 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/ Beaux Thibodaux: 6 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/ The Heathens: 6 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/ Mud Lark Holler: 4 chapters .../rural/mud-lark-holler/ Turntable Rehab: 5 chapter .../authoritarian/turntable-rehabilitation-services/