Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 FALSE MEMORIES

   (FM, MM, FF, cbt, scat, ws, nullification)

   Chapter 1

   It's odd that I chose that particular title for this journal, but when I
started this page, it just seemed to type itself there at the top.  Maybe
it's because I actually do think I have false memories, although sometimes
I think that this life my wife and I are leading is the false part.  She
has the same thoughts, so we decided to try writing separate diaries like
this, and then later comparing them to see if our memories are the same. 
Who knows what will be revealed by that comparison.

   Perhaps it would be best to start at the point where both Mandy and I
think our lives changed drastically.  We both agree that our shared
memories up to that time are consistent, and that we both have a strong
feeling that something happened then which altered the way we live.

   That particular time was about two years ago, and we both agree that it
occurred during a New Year's Eve party.  We think something happened then
to completely change our lifestyle, but our neighbors tell us that we have
always lived like this, and the things that happen on a day-to-day basis
are the way they're meant to be, and the way they always were.  We're not
so sure, and there's the nagging suspicion in both our minds that things
used to be different for us.

   We both recall, sometimes with a surprising clarity, and other times as
though through a fog, living separate lives when we were younger.  We think
we remember attending the same college, and then beginning a serious
relationship with each other.  We can see images of our wedding, attended
by many familiar people who were our friends.  There were no family members
there, since we're both orphans.  We remember moving to this city to work
at a large hospital that had hired us following our graduation from
college.

   The Administrator of the hospital was Dr.  Jamison, and he was the one
who was ultimately responsible for our employment as accountants there. 
Although he hadn't been the one who interviewed us during the latter part
of our senior year, we knew he was the one who had made the decision.  The
interviewer subjected us to a battery of psychological tests, which he said
were nothing but a formality, and were designed to test our degree of
submissiveness or assertiveness.  He said Dr.  Jamison did not care to
employ people who could not take orders, and that both of us had
outstanding scores, which virtually guaranteed our being hired.

   Our first interview with Dr.  Jamison was remarkably different, in that
he merely glanced at our folders, then spent more than an hour asking
probing questions about our personal behavior.  He said the hospital had to
be very sure that no "sexual perverts" were employed there, and of course
we certainly understood that.  Some of the things he asked about were
embarrassing, but it simply never occurred to us to refuse to answer.

   There were persistent rumors that Dr.  Jamison had been involved in some
sort of scandal years ago, but we could learn no details about it.  We were
told only that he had been a surgeon at the hospital, and got in trouble
for performing certain types of elective surgeries on both men and women.
There was always the implication that what he'd done to his patients was of
a sexual nature, but again, nobody seemed to know more than that.  In
response to the rumors, the hospital had promoted him to the position of
Administrator, which meant he wouldn't have enough time to perform any more
operations.  The rumors really didn't matter to either or us, because we
were sure Dr.  Jamison was a good man, and anything he chose to do was for
the best.

   He seemed to have a special interest in Mandy and me, even to the degree
of renting to us a house he owned next door to his own.  He introduced us
to two other couples who were his close friends, and they accepted us
quickly, and even showed the same type of interest in us that Dr.  Jamison
had shown.  We were glad to find new friends so soon, and immediately
joined in their activities.

   We both agree it was on the New Year's Eve following our first wedding
anniversary that we attended the party hosted by the Jamisons.  The drinks
were flowing freely, and by the time the evening's entertainment began,
everyone was feeling very mellow.  The hosts had hired a hypnotist to
entertain us, and both Mandy and I recall being surprised by some of the
things he could make our friends do when they were under his spell.  We
both remember a feeling of apprehension when our turn came to be
hypnotized, but we wanted to be good sports about it, so cooperated to the
best of our ability, given our semi-inebriated state.

   There seems to be a blank spot in our memories after we seated ourselves
in front of the man who was preparing to hypnotize us.  Both of us think
more than an hour elapsed between that time and our first lucid memories
later.  I am sure, as is my wife, that we were both wearing clothes at that
time, although our owners tell us that we have never been allowed to do so,
at least since they bought us for neighborhood slaves.  They think our
false memories probably date from when we were children, since, according
to them, we were selected early on to serve as slaves and would not have
been allowed to be clothed at any time after that.  Still, there is a
persistent image in both our minds of wearing clothes as adults.

   There is no way for us to know how long we sat in those chairs while we
were hypnotized, but we're both sure that a great deal of time passed
before we became aware of our surroundings.  Our next memories are of being
naked, but being completely accepting of that condition.  It seemed very
natural for the two of us to be unclothed, but for everyone else there to
be dressed.  We were standing in front of our neighbors, and they seemed to
be inspecting us.

   I thought maybe something about our appearance had changed, and that was
why everyone was staring at us.  I glanced down at my naked body, but could
see nothing out of the ordinary.  The two gold chains were still in place,
where they had always been.  Each ran from one of my nipple rings down to
other, larger rings that pierced my balls.  My pubic hair was freshly
shaved, but that too was normal.  The neighbors had required that Mandy and
I shave daily ever since they'd bought us, and the fact that we were both
hairless there was no surprise.

   I had a momentary twinge that something was missing that had always been
there, but was sure that was no more than a flashback to my childhood when
I'd had a penis.  I knew the thing had been removed many years ago, so
there was nothing strange about not now having it standing out from my
crotch.  What was strange, though, was the purple gel that had been smeared
over the place where my penis used to be attached.  I was sure it hadn't
been there only moments before, but since I didn't remember applying it to
my body, was sure that I'd simply forgotten doing so.

   I looked at Mandy, and saw she had two similar gold chains.  Hers were
running from her engorged nipples down to her labia, where like mine, they
were attached to gold rings that had been permanently fastened through
piercings.  As I looked more closely, I saw that the large ring through her
clitoris was also visible, as was the chain fastened to it and dangling
between her parted legs.  The fact her clit ring was visible meant she was
sexually aroused.  I don't know why, but I felt a tightness in my chest
when I looked at her naked body, knowing she was excited.  We'd never been
allowed to have sex, of course, which would have been impossible, given my
lack of the necessary equipment.  Again, everything seemed normal, and I
was mystified as to why the neighbors were all staring at us.

   The hypnotist then said to our neighbors, "Okay, folks.  They're all
ready for your use.  Have fun." He then walked from the room, escorted by
our host, Dr.  Jamison.  As we watched him leave, he said something that
sounded like, "What should I do with his thing?" Dr.  Jamison replied,
"Just give it to the dog on your way out.  Won't make much more than a
snack, but I'm sure Prince will enjoy it." The others laughed at that, but
I had no idea what they were talking about.

   Dr.  Jamison returned to stand beside us then, and as I glanced at the
three men and three women there with my wife and I, I saw they were all
getting undressed.  It seemed a very normal thing for them to be doing, and
as I realized what would very soon be taking place, I felt another thrill
run through my body.  This was what Mandy and I had been trained for all
our lives, and I knew she was anticipating it with a thrill equal to mine.



   Chapter 2

   Although I hadn't noticed it before, I saw a narrow table had been
placed in the center of the room.  Mandy saw it at almost the same moment,
and with no prompting walked to it.  Both of us knew its purpose, as she
demonstrated by standing with her back to one of the ends, then leaning
backwards until her upper body was resting on the tabletop.  The three
couples formed a circle around the table, with Mr.  Dorrance standing
closest to my wife's crotch.

   I also needed no prompting to know what was expected of me, and quickly
fell to my knees in front of the man.  His penis was just starting to
stiffen when I began to lick it slowly up and down its length, savoring the
musky taste it imparted to my tongue.  He spread his legs then, and I took
the cue by lowering my questing tongue to his sac, enjoying the salty
flavor of his perspiration as it entered my eager mouth.  As he sighed in
satisfaction, I very slowly and carefully drew his balls into my mouth,
then again worshipped them with my tongue.

   When I at last returned my attentions to his member, it was completely
erect.  The exquisite taste of his pre-cum caused my excitement to reach
new heights, and the faint hesitation I felt in the back of my brain was
quickly overcome by the memories that this was what I'd been trained for
all my life, and it was my highest purpose to bring sexual pleasure to
others.  I drew his throbbing cock deep into my mouth, and forced myself to
overcome my gag reflex as it entered my throat.

   Just when I thought my prayers would be answered, and he would shoot his
wonderful semen down my throat, he pulled his penis out of my mouth.  I
almost cried out at the loss, but stifled my response by telling myself
there would be other men to suck this night, and also knowing that before
much longer, my reward would be given to me.

   Mr.  Dorrance turned toward my wife's crotch, and as I looked at her, I
saw that her legs had been drawn up and apart by two of the women.  Mandy's
pussy was spread wide open, and her wonderful clit seemed to be larger than
I'd ever before seen it.  It looked for all the world like a miniature
penis, with the large gold ring piercing its head.  I saw then that the
third woman was holding the clit chain in one of her hands, and seemed to
be tugging it upward with all her might.  Rather than that causing Mandy
any pain, the stretching seemed to be increasing her lust.  She was moaning
with her arousal, and the juices running from her open slit signaled her
readiness for the erect cock I'd prepared for her.

   Mr.  Dorrance aimed his member directly at his target and lunged
forward, impaling my wife to the depths of her dripping pussy.  Again she
moaned in ecstasy, and did her best to raise her hips to meet the man's
thrusts.  He began to piston rapidly in and out of her sopping-wet cunt,
and in what seemed no more than a couple of minutes I heard him groan as
his orgasm began.  His wife, who was the one pulling on Mandy's clit chain,
began to jerk it even harder, then said, "Cum, you little slut!  Do it
now!"

   As if she had been waiting for that command, Mandy raised her hips in
one last thrust.  I heard her cry out with the sweetest sound a man can
hear, that of a woman in the throes of her orgasm.  Again and again she
moaned in time to the jerks on the chain, and I watched in fascination and
lust as her clit was stretched farther and farther.

   At last both she and Mr.  Dorrance were quiet.  He pulled his slimy
penis from her filled pussy, then walked to stand beside her head.  She
obviously knew what was expected of her, and turned her head to the side
and took his flagging member into her mouth.  As I heard the sounds of her
sucking and swallowing their mixed juices, I felt a hand on the back of my
head, urging me forward.  That urging was not needed, for I knew what was
required of me.  In the space of a heartbeat, my head was buried between my
wife's legs, and I eagerly licked, sucked, and swallowed their offering.  I
was in Heaven then, for this was what I'd been trained to do, and I knew
without a doubt that it was my highest purpose in life.

   At last there was nothing left for me to eat, and I drew back my head.
With no command, I turned my head sideways and began to tend to the new
penis that was waiting for me.  Again I licked and sucked the member and
then the balls, and again I reveled in the sensation of the silky-smooth
cock, and the taste of the sweat-coated balls in my eager mouth.  All too
soon the second penis pulled away from me, then found its new home in my
wife's pussy.  Again I watched in lustful anticipation as Mandy was filled
by the second cock, while her clit was stretched to new dimensions by her
lover's wife.  Again I heard them cry out in mutual orgasm, and again I ate
my fill of their mixed juices.

   Dr.  Jamison's penis was waiting for me as I pulled away from Mandy for
the second time.  It was much larger than the other two, and I delighted in
forcing my mouth and throat around it, almost as if trying to choke myself
on it.  As before, it was all too soon when it was taken from me, and I
watched my wife thrusting with all her strength as she was once again
impaled.  The load that I sucked from her a few minutes later was the
best-tasting of the night, and I wished that he would consent to fill her
again and again, even until I had drowned in the dripping juices I drew
from her.

   The three men had reached their satisfaction through our efforts, but
their wives had not.  Again, I knew it would be my duty to help them cum,
and what would be required of me sprang full-blown into my brain.  I felt a
surge of fear as the images swept over me, but then my years of training
took control.  With no hesitation, I helped Mandy from the table, then lay
back over it to take her place.

   Mrs.  Dorrance immediately mounted my face, and began grinding her pussy
against my mouth.  Her organ did not taste nearly as good as Mandy's, but I
knew that didn't matter.  It was my duty as the neighborhood slave to give
her pleasure, and I would do my best to fulfill that duty.  I began to lick
and suck her slit as I had been trained, and was rewarded by her sigh of
pleasure.  Even though it was obvious she hadn't bathed in quite awhile, I
continued to service her with my tongue.

   I felt hands spreading my legs then, and as the memory of what was about
to happen swept over me, pain exploded in my balls.  I knew one of the
women was whipping them with a flogger, and that she would continue doing
so until I had brought Mrs.  Dorrance to orgasm.  I tried to suppress the
pain, and forced myself to redouble my efforts.  At last, just as I feared
I'd pass out, she pressed her crotch even tighter to my face, and I heard
her gasp of delight as her orgasm swept over her.  At last she slumped
forward, and the whipping stopped.

   I expected her to get off the table then so the next woman could take
her place.  However, instead of doing that, she repositioned her pussy so
the upper part of the slit was directly over my mouth.  She whispered,
"Open," and I did.  Again, I seemed to know what to expect, and wasn't
disappointed as her hot stream splashed into my waiting mouth.  Luckily her
bladder wasn't completely full, because it was almost more than I could do
to keep up with the flow.  Again and again I swallowed the burning liquid,
surprised at how hot it was.  I was sure I'd done this many times in the
past, but somehow the memory of the searing temperature of her piss was not
there.

   She at last climbed off the table, and her place was quickly taken by
the next woman.  However, instead of sitting facing me as Mrs.  Dorrance
had, she turned until she was facing my crotch.  She settled in place over
my mouth, then reached both hands behind her and spread her cheeks wide. 
As she moved her butt from side to side, it was almost as if my nose were
being forced into her opening, and, as with Mrs.  Dorrance, I knew she
hadn't bathed recently.

   That thought barely had time to register when she said, "Use the cane
this time.  Make the little bastard really feel it."

   To say what I felt then was agonizing would be an understatement.  It
was simply unbearable.  I tried to cry out, but any sounds I made were
muffled by her ample crotch smothering me.  I knew my only hope of survival
was to make her cum just as quickly as possible, and I began to furiously
lick and suck her pussy to the best of my ability.

   Again and again the cane crashed into my suffering balls, and again and
again I was spurred to new heights of pleasuring her with my tongue. 
Again, just as I had reached the limits of my tolerance, I heard her cry
out with the force of her climax.  The beating stopped then, but I was so
close to unconsciousness due to the suffocating effect of her crotch that I
never knew when it ceased.

   I was aware of drawing deep, ragged breaths, and knew that she had
raised up enough to allow her to look back at my face.  When at last my
breathing evened, she once again lowered herself to me, and I prepared to
receive her hot stream.  Again I was shocked by the burning, searing flow,
but once more I forced myself to swallow it as was my duty.

   When it was Mrs.  Jamison's turn to mount my face, I took a hurried look
at my throbbing crotch to see if my balls were still there.  I was
surprised to see they looked much as they had before, except for a deep red
color, and a writhing movement that was almost frantic, as if they sought
escape from any more torture.

   Before she settled in place, she said, "Show it to him.  I want him to
know what you're going to use on his precious balls."

   I looked to the side, and saw Mandy standing there holding a steel rod
that was 1/2" in diameter and almost 2' long.  She was looking lovingly at
me as she said, "They want me to tear them off you if you don't make the
mistress cum.  You'd better do it right, hadn't you?  Now get started." She
then walked to the foot of the table to stand between my widespread legs,
and it seemed as if the two men holding my ankles tried to stretch me even
farther.

   As Mrs.  Jamison lowered herself to me, forcing my nose deep inside her
anus as had the woman before, the first blow struck my sac.  I knew my wife
would do her duty to our masters and mistresses, and if they had ordered
her to tear my balls to pieces with the steel rod, then that's exactly what
she'd do.  I knew my fate depended upon my ability to make the woman cum as
quickly as possible, and fought against unconsciousness as I serviced her
with every ounce of strength I could muster.  Over and over I licked and
sucked her foul-tasting vagina, barely noticing her increasing responses
through the haze of agonizing pain Mandy was giving me.

   Time seemed to stand still, but after an eternity of agony, Mrs. 
Jamison tensed and cried out.  The beating stopped then, and I began to
slip into a dark place as all airflow to my lungs was cut off by the
confining crotch pressing against my face.

   I awakened to the sensation of someone slapping me, and as my eyes
focused I saw Mrs.  Jamison poised above me, her hand raised ready to
deliver the next blow.  When she saw I was once again awake, she settled to
my mouth, whispering a curt, "Open wide, little man."

   I obeyed her order, almost as if a robot were in charge of my body.  It
didn't even register on me that it was her rear opening that was centered
over my open mouth.  However, when her gift dropped to my tongue, I had to
fight the revulsion that swept over me.  As before, my memories told me I
had done this many times, and that I had always found it enjoyable to serve
in this manner.  At that time, though, it seemed to be an entirely new
situation, and I simply could not believe that I'd ever before performed
this type of service.

   My training took over then, and I closed my mouth and ate what she'd
given me.  At her command of, "Wipe me," I used my tongue to clean her
opening, then waited for her to do what she would with me.  Her next
requirement was not long in being expressed, as she moved back slightly to
place her pussy once again over my mouth.  I simply opened as wide as
possible, and even felt grateful as she gave me her hot drink to wash down
her first offering.

   That seemed to bring an end to the party, and Mandy and I were ignored
as the six people dressed.  The Jamisons said good night to their guests,
and then ordered us to clean up the mess from the gathering.  Mandy was
suffering no ill-effects from the evening, but I was barely able to walk
due to the horrible pain and intense throbbing pain in my crotch.  The
contents of my stomach seemed to be a lead weight, and I was sure I could
hear them sloshing as I walked.

   Mr.  Jamison then led us to the alley behind the house, where we were
allowed to empty our bladders and bowels.  I was given permission to use a
handful of grass to wipe myself, then was told to use my tongue to clean my
wife.  After I'd done so, we were led back to the house, where we were
locked in a closet for the night.  _________________________

   That night set the tone for most of those that followed.  During the
days, we would be given household tasks to perform, either at Dr. 
Jamison's house or that of one of his friends.  On virtually every night of
the week, we were required to provide sexual release to our masters and
mistresses.  At their frequent parties, we provided sexual services similar
to those we had provided at the New Year's Eve party.

   They seemed to take special delight in torturing Mandy's breasts and
vagina, either by whipping her there, touching her with the red-hot tips of
cigarettes, or pushing long needles completely through her flesh.  Many
times they would give her extra pain by heating the needles after they were
in place in her tender body, seeming to take much delight in her screams of
agony as her flesh cooked.

   As for me, most of their efforts were concentrated on my crotch.  My
balls felt their tortures most of the time, but they also liked to stick
needles in the scar tissue that formed where my penis was once attached.  I
have never understood why it took that long for the healing to take place,
since that part of me was cut off when I was a child.  I know without
question that the nerve endings are still very active, and many are the
times I've passed out cold when the needles have been pushed into me, then
heated with a soldering gun.

   On special occasions, our masters and mistresses would invite guests to
use us.  Some of the male guests seemed to enjoy using me for their
release, rather than my wife, and in time I came to enjoy the very special
feeling of their erections penetrating me.  I was always allowed to service
them with my tongue after they had reached completion, and that also came
to be very enjoyable to me.

   As I said earlier in this narrative, we have been with our masters and
mistresses for almost two years.  My balls are permanently swollen and
agonizingly painful now, due to the tortures they are subjected to.  Dr. 
Jamison has given them daily injections of a hormone he developed, for the
specific purpose of causing testicles to continue to grow throughout the
man's lifetime.  Each nut is now over 6" in diameter, and in fact the rings
that pierce them have had to be replaced twice.  He plans to continue the
injections as long as I'm in his service, and thinks they'll be twice that
size before I leave here.

   Mandy's breasts are many times larger than I remember them being before
the party, due to the hormone injections she is given each day.  Mrs. 
Jamison told us they're the same hormones given to cows to increase their
milk production, and they're obviously working.  A special milking machine
is attached to her tits twice each day, and the milk is then bottled and
sold to men who have a craving for it.  On many occasions, the men will be
brought to the house and allowed to drink directly from my wife's nipples.
They seem to especially like that, and always pay extra.

   Due to the effects of the milking machine, as well as the intense
stimulations provided to them, her nipples are now almost 2" in length, and
seem to be perpetually engorged.  We have been instructed to refer to her
breasts as "bags," and to her nipples as "teats." Dr.  Jamison, and our
other masters and mistresses have told us that my wife is nothing more than
a cow to them, and indeed they now summon her by calling her in that
manner.

   Many of the men who come to drink her milk love to lie flat on the
floor, and have her assume a position on all fours over them.  While one,
and sometimes two, of them suckles from her teats, another mounts her from
the rear.  They seem to especially love shoving their erect members in her
other opening, saying she's much tighter there than in her pussy.  I'm
always required to suck their semen from her, or course, but deep in my
heart I know I'd beg to do it if I had to.  I simply love the special taste
of the mixture she feeds me from her opening, and can't think of a more
enjoyable way to provide service.

   Now, as to why Mandy and I are writing our separate journals in an
attempt to test our memories.  We were told recently that our masters and
mistresses are part of a worldwide ring of slaveholders.  It seems that the
members of the ring are responsible for recruitment and training of new
slaves, which are always married couples.  When they tire of the slaves'
services, they make arrangements to trade them with other slaveholders.

   That is what is to happen to us a few days from now.  We've been told
that our new owners are particularly sadistic, and delight in peforming all
sorts of mutilations on their slaves.  I was told that one of their
favorite tortures for males is to remove the skin covering his testicles,
then torture the naked balls as they hang from him.

   They particularly like to watch the slave's balls being eaten, while
still attached to him, by starving rats.  The man is required to squat
above a cage holding the rats, then lower one of his balls to them.  At a
later time, he'll be required to repeat the feeding with his remaining
testicle.

   When he has been entirely neutered, his wife will force a large tube
into his anus, which will keep the anal sphincter from closing.  Another,
smaller tube will be forced up his pee hole until it enters his bladder. 
His ability to control his voidings will thus be removed.

   He'll then be placed inside a small metal box by his wife.  The box is
sealed against leaking, with only the top being open.  Once he has been
pushed completely into the thing, his wife will make him tilt his head as
far back as he can , then hold his mouth as wide open as possible.  Once
he's properly positioned, she'll place the top of the box where it will be
fastened with clamps.

   Attached to the top is a toilet seat, with a funnel glued to it.  The
spout of the funnel is quite large, and has a rubber ring that she'll force
into her husband's mouth, until it's firmly wedged between his teeth.

   Dr.  Jamison has told me my new owners take delight in placing bets on
how long the slave will be able to survive on the food and drink they
provide to him directly from their bodies.  When it's obvious the man is
nearing the end, as indicated by the level of his own piss and shit inside
the box, his wife will be tied in place on the seat.  They'll make her eat
and drink large amounts, and it'll be her contributions that will raise the
level of the liquid and solids until they're above her husband's nose. 
Apparently the record so far is five days, but Mr.  Jamison thinks I'll be
able to do much better than that.  I hope so, since it's my duty to make
him proud of the services I provide.

   Mandy said Mrs.  Jamison described to her some of the tortures that will
be used to pleasure her new owners.  She'll primarily be used to entertain
the guests who like to see a woman being used by various male animals. 
They have special tables that she'll be strapped to, with her legs spread.
Her first lovers will be dogs of increasing sizes, followed by small
ponies. After she has been sufficiently stretched, she'll be fucked by
bulls, and then stallions.  As a final test of her ability to please males,
a tame elephant will mount her.  Apparently the penis of an elephant is
over 2' in length, and more than 6" in diameter.  Mistress said no woman
has ever before been able to survive that fucking, and has told Mandy
repeatedly that she expects her to be the first.  My wife hopes with all
her heart to be able to please her mistress, for that's her mission in
life.

   Well, that's it.  I'm going to find Mandy now so we can compare notes.
It'll be interesting to see which of our recollections are identical. 
Maybe then we'll know for sure if we really do have false memories.

   The End