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Chapter 10
Dean was led into a small hall containing only a small table bearing a television surrounded by a dozen young men and women in white coats. He saw Moriarty, with her clipboard, standing in the centre of the group. The closing of the door alerted the entire room to his presence and all eyes turned to him as he walked across the hall. The small screen was showing him bound to the Perspex box, and he could hear Tiffany’s strident voice barking orders and the sound of the cane on his flesh.
The audience who had been avidly observing his painful degradation lost interest in the image in favour of enjoying a sight of the captive whore in vibrant life. It was a testament to the training of the past four months that he approached an audience of young men and women wearing only his crimson costume with his hand cuffed behind his back without a tremor. Dean had been told by Moriarty to adopt a confident, almost arrogant, bearing when he met the medical students and researchers. He did not know that this initial pride was designed by Moriarty to highlight the intense humiliation that he would endure over the next hour.
He stood before his audience, staring at each face even though he could see that all of the women, and most of the men, were surveying his costume which was now inevitably beginning to stir from an erection. The assembled specialists all studied Dean with an air of authority. He was a convict whore, who was about to suffer severe cruelty on the torture table hidden behind the screen in the corner. Some even smiled, wondering if he knew the fate that awaited him.
Moriarty turned off the video from her Board visit to begin her description of the captive.
“This is the subject. A twenty two year old male with, as you will observe, unusually large genitals.” The audience drew closer now, the women gathering in the front row. “His testicles are three times the normal size for a man of his age and, as we will witness later, this has a significant impact upon the quantity of semen discharge.” Moriarty circled her captive and, as instructed, he watched her all the time when she was speaking. “The subject is a convicted criminal who volunteered for this project. However, while he is outside the confines of our Research Centre he must remain cuffed at all times unless he has an armed guard.” The presence of the guard in the corner of the hall was finally noticed by everyone else in the hall as she came to the prisoner to remove his cuffs. Dean then stood in his pose of hands on hips with his legs wide apart, a stance designed to denote confidence, arrogance and vanity.
“You mean his testicles are not the result of a medical condition?” one of the men asked, moving closer to study his enlarged organ. He pressed the prisoner’s left testicle. Dean managed to suppress a groan, but he could not avoid flinching from the pain. The medic took hold of the testicle and squeezed, provoking a growl of frustrated anger.
“That’s right. The present size has been induced using chemical compounds specially developed to enhance semen flow.”
“How often does the subject need to ejaculate?”
“The optimum time is about six hours. After that there is increasing discomfort, and he attempts to ejaculate through masturbation or penetration.”
“Penetration? Does he engage in sexual intercourse in the Research Centre?”
“No, we have a special plastic box that he … mounts. This serves as an artificial vagina that enables him to achieve full erection and, eventually, ejaculation.”
“You have trained him to perform these acts? How did you ‘persuade’ him to masturbate in front of a group of complete strangers or to penetrate a plastic box?” The researcher glanced up at Dean, smiling as he contemplated the methods employed to secure his compliance.
“We have our methods, which I do not wish to discuss here.”
Only the sound of the prisoner thrusting forward his genitals at the women in the room disturbed the uneasy silence.
“Now, it’s time for the main event.” Moriarty took hold of the crimson straps and let the costume fall to the ground. No one spoke, but the heartbeat of every woman and most men in the room rose at the sight of Dean’s phallus free from the constraints of the pouch. He noticed their fascination and began to act his role, thrusting his hips forward as he stroked his shaft, moving his fingertips towards the moist tip before rubbing the shaft between the inside of his fingers.
“Now, everyone wants to have a good look at your body, so move closer.”
Dean stepped forward two paces to stand within a few feet of the circle of white coats.
“I’m a whore, a slut. I love showing my fantastic body. Look at my magnificent cock. I’m a porn star whore, and I love pussy. I love fucking holes with my enormous cock.” He crouched low, rubbing his hand across his lower stomach, as he explained how much he enjoyed anal violation. He thrust forward his erection, gazing at the women and issuing an invitation for a bout of fellatio, an offer that a few of the women appeared willing to consider.
“What’s the male equivalent of a slut?” asked one of the men as Dean’s chafing became ever more vigorous.
“I don’t know, but we’re looking at one now.”
“Where did you find him?” one of the men asked Moriarty.
“Obviously in the gutter.”
Dean closed his eyes and lifted his head, simulating sexual pleasure as he massaged his organ. He knew he was being diminished and degraded as he masturbated before these privileged college educated youngsters with expensive cars and houses in the hills. However, Moriarty had insisted that he act as a conceited slut, so he continued to act like a vain porn star, displaying his penis to the women who caught his eye. After five minutes he informed Moriarty he was about to ejaculate. She spread two scrolls of tissue paper on the floor, stretching more than three feet from the end of Dean’s tip.
A sense of anticipation gripped his audience as he reached his climax and, pulsing his hips, a spout of semen sailed through the air to fall beyond the edge of the paper tissue onto the floorboards. The women gasped at the sight of his fertile stream gushing from his foreskin. Another spurt was followed by a third and then a slightly feeble fourth issue and finally Dean groaned as he forced out the last drops. He adopted his haughty pose, his erect penis trailing semen along his shaft to the floor, while his audience studied the stains he left on both the tissue and the floorboards.
“As you can see the discharge is plentiful. It is both longer and stronger than ordinary ejaculations. Now, unless anyone has any more questions about his ejaculate we can progress to the second phase of our examination, the expansion therapy.”
Cindi appeared, wheeling a table fitted with the usual movable board and attendant straps, to the centre of the hall. The students were delighted to notice Dean give Moriarty an uneasy look.
“Not so smug now, big boy.”
“Is your magnificent cock ready for a pounding.”
“Time for some hard medicine for the slut.”
Dean was laid out on the table and the students gathered around the bound convict, admiring the view of his naked body strapped to the board. Moriarty noticed one of the female doctors slyly fondle his thigh.
“The subject is a sex slave, available to anyone who wishes to enjoy his body. Please feel free to touch him. We have plenty of time, and he’s not going anywhere.”
The women spent the next five minutes caressing, stroking and massaging Dean’s body. His firm legs and his glistening torso were popular choices, but eventually their attention turned to his magnificent pink baton, still damp and standing proud over his taut stomach. The female professionals swiftly descended into a gaggle of giggling women, encouraging each another to ever more intimate intrusions.
Eventually, their curiosity sated, they allowed Moriarty to continue her demonstration. She injected a double dose of her potion into the base of Dean’s shaft, and within a minute he was displaying another magnificent erection. The tubes appeared and the crowd moved closer, intently watching Dean as Moriarty sent the plastic tube deep into his phallus. The tube, as he expected, was an extension and the agony was intense as Moriarty drove the bar deeper into his flesh. He was able to present a brave face to the gallery of sneering faces above him, but when the electrical current ripped through his body he howled in pain, provoking laughter and a round of applause.
“That’s wiped the smile off his face.”
“I wonder if he knows what that current will do to the lining of his urethra?”
“That has got to hurt.”
The pain pulsed through his body, and Dean knew that Moriarty had raised the power of the charge to leave him in agony on the table, so that his suffering provided entertainment for her audience.
“Kerry, this guy’s such an idiot. Why he would volunteer to serve such a sadist like you …”
“Bill. I think that’s for another time.” A finger to her mouth brought a raised hand of apology. Dean endured a scorching penis for more than five minutes before Moriarty turned off the machine and drew out the rod, showing traces of blood on the stem.
“Now, for the next phase of this afternoon’s demonstration we will need to leave the subject’s genitals alone. We don’t want to damage his precious assets. We’ve invested far too much in his cock to singe them today. However, the research subject’s fingers and toes are a different matter.” She held up two clamps, and Dean’s face turned white with fear.
“Please, Miss, no. I’m begging you. I’ve done nothing wrong, I swear.”
The audience drew near once more, eager to witness the debasing of the arrogant porn star with the massive cock and the huge ego. He strained against the straps as Moriarty placed a clamp on each thumb, provoking giggles from some of the women, who were now really just girls in white coats. As soon as the toe clamps were biting into his nails, Moriarty examined the straps. Once satisfied that they were sufficiently firm for her purposes she explained the mechanism in her hand. The length of the therapy would be entered along with the number of shocks each minute. The incidents would be entirely random, offering the subject no rest from the pain. She announced that the session would last ten minutes with twelve jolts each minute. Moriarty decided that Dean’s pathetic pleas, though wonderful to hear, needed to be silenced by a ball gag.
“Colleagues, the subject is still undergoing intensive conditioning exercises to ensure that he is compliant and submissive. He is kept naked, except when dressed in special costumes, and he remains bound for prolonged periods during the day. We have been experimenting with the most demeaning form of bondage, but we cannot agree. The subject will be leaving constrained in my favourite, but they are all very humiliating.” She smiled at her bound whore. “We inflict pain, because we find agony is the most effective means of ensuring that he performs all the disgraceful and degrading tasks you would expect from a bondage whore.”
The torment began and Dean writhed on the table with every jolt, screaming into his gag. Moriarty had ensured that the straps were not too tight, so the audience could enjoy the sight of Dean flailing on the table, panting for breath between each violation. His rigid penis trembled as he desperately thrashed to escape his torment. The ten minutes of agony ended and he was taken from the table to stand before his audience, notably less assured and confident than when he arrived in the hall. Moriarty was now convinced that he would be ready to entertain her guests, eager to provide the most abject sexual services.
Dean spent the next hour as the sex toy of the party of doctors and researchers. His erection was the focus of attention for the first half an hour, but the second half was dedicated to the abuse of his anus. A dildo was produced and Dean was violated by a number of the men and a few of the women before being obliged to misuse himself. He was ordered to squat on the table to insert a metal tube into his anus. Eventually he was able to shove in the cold steel, but the plug chafed his passage. A caning from Cindi, her blows drawing applause from the medics and researchers, was required to ensure that he pounded his own anus, gritting his teeth to endure the pain and the intense humiliation of the taunts from the spectators who stood only feet away.
Dean was reaching down to grasp his ankles, in readiness for one of the women to violate him with the same vibrator, when one of the men asked Moriarty if Dean could ‘blow his own trumpet.’ Moriarty was confused until he explained the mechanics of auto fellatio. Moriarty doubted the possibility, but one of the researchers assured her that his college fraternity had once hired a male whore who had managed to lick his own foreskin. The feat required flexibility, a generous penis and the absence of anything approaching shame.
“Your whore meets all three conditions. Let’s put him to the test.”
For the next five minutes Dean was forced to bend his back and reach for his foreskin. Cindi’s cane and the guests grasping his head to thrust it towards his erection was not enough to achieve success. He was about three inches short of his goal, which was testament to his stretching exercises. However, he failed the task and the female medical students insisted upon a penalty. Therefore, Dean’s visit to the Faculty Hall concluded with another trip to the table. The girls also convinced Moriarty to administer fifteen minutes of suffering so that when the table was lowered and Dean staggered to the centre of the hall, soiled and wet, he was barely able to stand. A caning from Cindi brought him to his standard pose, legs wide apart with his hands on his hips, while she cleaned his backside with a hose. The pose remained as before, but now his head was bowed.
“A last view of his anus if you please, Dr Moriarty.”
“You heard your master, turn and show your superiors your arsehole.”
Dean obliged, grasping his ankles in the ‘crab’ pose, to be rewarded with a round of applause. Cindi placed him in his costume, though the erection meant that the pouch failed to cover his penis. However, the tight strapping still ripped through his buttock cleft. Moriarty offered them a last view of her “bondage whore dressed as a sex toy” before the guard stepped forward to place a neck brace and ankles cuffs.
“Nice necklace. How do you get one of those?”
“By being a criminal whore, that’s how.”
Moriarty stroked Dean’s thigh, like stroking a wild animal, while the guard fitted two short chains, no more than a foot long, to the metal collar. Dean’s hands were then held by his shoulders.
“I like these chains because they expose his entire body. They’re almost an invitation to enjoy this bound and naked whore.” Moriarty placed her hand on his penis and, encouraged by a stroke from the cane, began to pulse his hips to laughter from her colleagues. She ordered him to bow and he left shuffling towards the door, sent on his way by more blows from Cindi’s cane, each blow greeted with applause, praise and laughter from the students as they enjoyed the departure of Moriarty’s sex slave.
Moriarty had been waiting for nearly two years for this moment. The guard appeared at the door at the far end of the hall and Moriarty offered her the slightest of nods, a gesture noticed by some of her former colleagues who turned to see the guard by the door. Moriarty was delighted to observe that her respected associates, all doctoral scholars and researchers, were just excited women eager for a sight of her prisoner’s massive cock.
The guard disappeared to return with Dean, and the slamming of the door alerted everyone in the hall to his presence. He strode across the hall to the waiting doctors and scientists, stunning in his crimson costume. She knew that some might view his enlarged testicles as absurd, but she thought he look magnificent with his globes stretching the red fabric as he paced across the room. He was chained and almost naked, indeed the costume was actually more demeaning than wearing nothing at all. However, he dominated the room as he came to a halt before them, legs apart to highlight his wonderful genitals.
She introduced him as he stood in his costume, allowing one of the men to draw near to prod his member and ask questions. His curiosity was annoying the others in the party, keen to unveil the captive’s equipment. The exposure of his phallus tightened the air in the room and there was total silence as he was unchained to stand, hands on hips, displaying his taut and tanned body. He expertly performed his role as the vain porn stud eager for sex, his lewd display provoking repulsion and arousal in almost equal measure.
Moriarty noticed that the women were delighted by his performance and they almost ran to the table, gently jostling for position, as he was hoisted into place. Though the women giggled at the insults and the degrading comments, it was the men who showed their unease in the presence of such a splendid example of manhood by highlighting his nudity, his arrogance and his diminished status as a prisoner.
The expansion treatment was a useful means of reminding her colleagues of her doctoral thesis, and an opportunity to strap a superb naked man to a table and play with him for a few minutes. The electric torture was simply designed to demonstrate her complete control over the subject. She was the domineering powerful woman and he, despite his outstanding physique, was just her slave. She had demonstrated her power over him, subjecting him to a miserable hour of humiliation and torture. His subjugation was a powerful riposte to all those barbed comments about her randy monkeys that she had endured during her four years of intensive research. Now, these same scientists, former colleagues with larger grants and doctorates from the most distinguished academies, were watching her control a tremendous and vibrant male. She could almost taste the jealousy as she stood beside her captive and stroked his thigh.
So, when he emerged from his second spell on the torture table, soiled and stained, his legs quivering as he tried to adopt his initial arrogant pose, Moriarty felt immense pride in her work. She also felt avenged for all the slights she suffered from the men and women who now admired her command of her shattered and terrified sex slave.
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