Chapter 1
The Unexpected Interview

Holy hell! Have you ever had to pee so bad that you have tunnel vision and rely on a prayer not to piss your pants? Meaning that whether or not you are religions, at that moment there is a god and you're asking not to piss yourself. And that nothing around you matters except a clear path from your location to the bathroom, all the while hoping that the door isn't locked, or the toilet is not in use. And if it is in use, the sink is going to be the only other option no matter the judgment from someone who sees you?! This is what happened to Bill.

It's not an age thing. Young and old and even those in between suffer from this once in a while. A bladder so full it's almost painful, the ability to hold back for just a few more seconds…

Bill was on a road trip. Trying to get from A to B as quickly as possible. It was a 20-hour drive and he wanted to put as much road behind him as he could before stopping for the night. Best case scenario was making it through the whole 20 hours without stopping at a hotel.

He had way too much coffee and still needed more. Hence the stop. He burst though the coffee shop door and headed straight for the bathroom. The only thoughts running though his head; 'don't piss yourself', 'focus on the route', 'think about anything else but the need to pee'. And for some reason as he got closer to the bathroom his bladder knew and played a sick joke, letting loose just as he was undoing his pants. Some urine in the pants and underwear, some on the floor before he was able to take aim at full stream, depositing the rest in the toilet. This; the prankster bladder and the tunnel vision, was why Bill didn't notice that the bathroom was occupied. In most cases public bathrooms are for multi-person use. In this one, there was only one toilet and one sink. Additionally, the other person had been behind the door when he had entered. Entered with desperation to relieve a bladder so full it was making his eyes float!

Bill was standing at the toilet with a strong almost unruly stream, sighing with relief when he noticed the movement. He also heard but didn't really register the click of the door lock. Bill looked back and saw him… or was it her. He wasn't sure.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." He was embarrassed as hell. "I had to pee so damn bad, I don't know how I missed you being in here."

"It's okay mister," came the voice, still no indication of gender.

Then it dawned on Bill, the person locked the door. He turned to make sure his back was to him/her. He/she moved to try and see and Bill moved again.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to look," he/she answered.

Bill's blood turned cold. He was locked in the bathroom with… a guy or a girl, who was more than likely too young. Bill couldn't determine the age either. What did he/she have in mind?

There was a freight train of thoughts that ran through Bill's head. The best was finishing and just walking away. The worst was he was going to get murdered by a fucking kid. Some stupid gang initiation or something.

Bill finished, put his dick back into his pants and went to leave this awkward situation. This boy/girl blocked the door.

"What the hell are you doing?" Bill asked.

"Getting what I want," it said.

"Get the hell out of the way," Bill went for the door again.

"You walk out and I'll yell rape." It took its shirt off, revealing a flat chest.

Must be a boy, Bill thought.

Next it was the pants. There was a bulge, now Bill knew it was a boy.

"First of all, I'm not gay. Second, how old are you?"

"First of all, I don't care, you're doing what I want. Second, old enough to know how to get what I want," he replied.

Holy fuck this kid has audacity.

He pulled his underwear down, and even though Bill was not into dick, it was a nice dick.

"Suck it," he demanded.

"Fuck no. Now get out of the way."

The boy rubbed his eyes making them red. Then he started to cry and in a low voice was telling no one that; the man in the bathroom had tried to fuck him, he barely escaped and needed someone to catch the bad man. Bill realized the boy was acting, showing him that to a room full of strangers he would be the guilty party here. Even if on the slight chance he managed to avoid charges and prison his reputation would be severely tarnished.

The freight train that ran through his head earlier hadn't carried this scenario. But here he was, about to be raped by a young boy, of whatever age he was. There was a small tuft of pubic hair, so he was probably an early teen, but Bill couldn't tell how far along. Puberty is tricky, could start at the age of single digits or later in the teens. His best guess was the boy was in the window of twelve to fifteen years old. If he were a late bloomer, he could be sixteen or in an extreme case of late puberty seventeen. However, he felt that the boy was at the younger end of the spectrum.

Reluctantly Bill got down, kneeling on the floor with a limp dick in his face. Never in his life had he thought he would be doing something like this, but there he was. He swallowed hard and moved closer. Bill's unwillingness remained. He instantly hated the smell emanating from the boy's groin. He stuck his tongue out and licked the tip and hated the taste. He also hated the boy for choosing him for this.

"More!" the boy demanded. "Suck it. Put it in your mouth."

Bill did as he was told, taking it into his mouth. The taste was foul. He felt the limp piece of flesh, short and spongy, with his tongue. It slowly went from a limp piece of meat to a hard erection. Bill experienced this many times with his own cock, in his hand, but never someone else's, and never in his mouth. It was a different and curious point of view. With absolutely no experience, Bill could only mimic what girls had done to him over the years; he moved back and forth sucking. Apparently, he wasn't a good student. The boy pulled out and looked down at Bill.

"Keep your teeth off my cock. Use your tongue more. Suck harder," he demanded and pushed his hips forward again.

Bill looked up at the boy with disdain, then took him back into his mouth repeating the commands. Over and over he reminded himself to suck harder, tongue the shaft and head more, and mind the teeth. He noticed that the foul taste disappeared and there was very little flavor. Even though he wasn't enjoying this, it became a better experience than a few minutes ago.

The boy moaned, indicating Bill was doing good. Bill felt better about the act. He tried harder to make the boy feel pleasure. With the little practice he felt he could go a bit faster. Bill bobbed his head, taking the full length. The tip hit his throat instantly triggering a gag reflex. He backed off, withdrawing from the boy's dick and almost threw up on the floor. Thankfully he hadn't eaten yet and there was nothing to bring up.

"Looks like you're going to need a little training," the boy said.

What the fuck was he thinking? That this would become a regular thing? Like hell! Bill thought to himself.

While he was no longer hating this, it was still rape. But Bill would never tell anyone about this. There was too much embarrassment that he, a grown man… a grown straight man, had fallen victim to a boy, in a bathroom. Here he was choking on the boy's cock.

"Suck bitch!" the boy demanded.

Bill opened and took him in again. He was still hard, lucky to be young and have long lasting erections. Bill focused on the boy's dick. He figured that if he got the boy to cum (hopefully not in his mouth) this would end. So, the faster he pleased him, the faster Bill could get on with his life.

"Hungry little cock whore," the boy commented.

Bill focused and sucked. The boy eventually pushed him off. Bill was confused; figured that the boy wanted to dominate, which he had been, and that he wanted to cum. Bill was right and wrong at the same time.

"Take your pants off," another order from the boy.

"What?"

"Holy fuck, I'm speaking clear English," he slapped Bill hard. "Take your fucking pants off."

Bill stared him in the eyes. The boy was serious. Bill realized, the boy was going to cum, but not in his mouth. The boy pulled a bottle from his pants pocket and rubbed lube on his cock while Bill took his pants and underwear off.

"On all fours, bitch."

Bill did as he was told. He was scared now. He had never had anything in his ass, but that was apparently about to change. He got down. The tiles were cold on his hands and painful on his bare knees. The boy was at least considerate enough to give Bill a single finger first. Then two. The two hurt a little, but nothing compared to what came next.

Kneeling behind Bill, the boy stuffed Bill's underwear into Bill's mouth, aimed his dick and penetrated him in a single go. Bill yelped into his stuffed mouth, barely audible. Tears dripped from his eyes from the searing pain. He felt the boy's hips up against his ass, his hole on fire. It felt like he had been ripped open. Bill was waiting for the blood to start dripping onto the floor. Head down he opened his eyes, but the blood never dripped. He wondered if this is what a woman feels while being fucked for the first time. Her hymen being forced open, ripping with the first intrusion of a man's cock.

Bill heard the boy give a little laugh.

He felt the tip of the boy's dick deep inside him poking something somewhere. The boy rested against Bill and waited. He was thankful for that. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so much pain. He figured his asshole was going to be forever pulled open from this and wondered if he would need diapers for the rest of his life.

The boy started to withdraw. The pain was still there but not as intense. It felt as though he were going to pull all the way out, Bill was hoping anyway. He pushed back in. More pain, but duller. Stroke after stroke of this slow-motion fucking. Bill started taking the boy's dick like a regular faggot. Now he was just thinking about how much of a coward he was for not stopping this from the beginning. For letting this kid trap him in the bathroom, making him suck his dick, and now letting the boy fuck him like a piece of meat.

The boy pulled out. A wave of relief washed over Bill thinking it was over. He was wrong. The boy squatted behind Bill and reentered. His ass took the boy's dick with little resistance. The boy slipped into Bill, and it felt different. The pain was almost gone. He fucked a little harder and faster. While Bill wouldn't say he was enjoying it, it wasn't hurting like it was earlier. So, in comparison this was much better. They were both quiet for the most part. There was the occasional grunt from the boy, the sighs of pleasure as he used Bill's ass.

Shockingly Bill's hole started feeling good. With every stroke the boy poked something inside that also felt quite enjoyable. Bill closed his eyes and concentrated on those feelings. The pain was distant, something he didn't really feel anymore. That was interesting. He had these new thoughts emerge from the fog of I'm pathetic to how can this be remotely enjoyable?

The boy got more intense. His flesh and Bill's came together with a slap. He was grunting with each deep dive into Bill's ass. Bill came away from his internal thoughts and listened. The boy was getting close. He was going to cum and then, this will be over forever.

Bill was both relieved and disappointed in himself. In the matter of maybe twenty minutes, he had gone from a straight man, to being painfully raped by a teen, to enjoying it. Well, not enjoying like he would having sex with a woman. Having himself deep inside, feeling his own rod wrapped by warm wet flesh. But, enjoying it more than he was, when this all started.

The boy slammed home one final time. Bill felt the boy's dick twitching inside him and knew that he was cumming. No question, Bill was for sure his bitch now. The boy had taken Bill like a dog would take a bitch and bred him. He had had no choice but to submit.

He pulled out, kneeled in front of Bill, and pulled the underwear from his mouth. "Clean it off."

Bill looked. His dick was coated with lube, cum, and shit. He almost gagged at the smell. He turned his face away. The boy grabbed Bill's hair and pulled hard. Bill closed his eyes and opened his mouth. The boy put it in; Bill closed and sucked. The taste was far more foul than the initial blowjob, but Bill knew that all he could do was what was demanded. He sucked it until the boy was clean and limp. Bill felt even more pathetic.

When the boy was satisfied with the cleaning, he put his clothes on, dropped a $100 bill on the floor and walked out of the bathroom. The awful taste lingered in Bill's mouth. He locked the door and crawled to the sink and drank as much water as he could, it didn't help. When he felt strong enough he gathered his clothes to get dressed. That's when he noticed the cum on the floor. It was white, no shit. It took Bill a moment to realize, that was his cum. With all the pain, both psychological and physical, still he had enjoyed what had happened enough to cum on the floor at some point. He had a strange fascination with the idea that he had had an orgasm and hadn't realized it.

Bill picked up his scattered clothes, minus his soiled underwear, which he threw into the trash. After getting dressed, he remembered the bill still on the floor. He was torn, he loved money but he hated what that particular bill represented. He couldn't just leave it there, and he didn't. Bill picked it up and pulled his wallet out. Written on the bill was a single word; "More?" and a phone number.

The audacity of that little fucker.

Bill checked himself in the mirror and left the bathroom. He ordered a black coffee. That didn't even get the taste out of his mouth. The cum, lube and shit were more powerful than coffee.

He returned to the highway, driving in solitude and silence. His attention weaved back and forth. Over the next few hours he rehashed what happened in the bathroom and occasionally coming back to focus on the feeling of his sore ass. He still couldn't believe that he was raped. On top of that, by a teen. On top of all that, he apparently had an orgasm. What did that say about him? Was he really a totally straight guy? He had never had an attraction to males. Not men, not boys. He had always enjoyed being the man, the representation of the dominant role during sex. Bill enjoyed being in charge of the situation, getting his cock sucked, taking her missionary or doggy or standing. Always a position where he controlled the action.

This had all been taken from him. Bill was the subordinate; he was the one dominated in that bathroom.

Bill arrived at his hotel and took a long hot shower. He was trying to rinse the filth off himself. Trying to scrub himself back down to the man he woke up as. The soap didn't work. The water couldn't get hot enough, or the spray strong enough. What he was trying to wash away was on the inside anyway. An event that would be in his head forever. There might be times that he would forget about it. But he knew, like all life events, it would pop up again when he was least expecting it.

He sat on the bed and turned the television on expecting it to be a good distraction. It failed to be. His mind kept finding its way to the $100 bill in his wallet. He pulled it out and stared at it. The next mental freight train started making circles. He had a way to find this boy; he could get him arrested for what he did. The phone number linked to a phone, either land line or cell phone, both of which were traceable. If he did that, the implication was the events would be made public and what would happen to his life?

Frustrated he put the bill back and headed to the bar in the lobby. He drank and ate and drank more. He drank until he could barely make it back to his room. Bill stumbled from the bar stool to the elevator to his door. Opening it was a struggle, getting that damn key card in the slot the right way had never been harder. He fell three times trying to take his clothes off. Naked he climbed into the bed and the room spun. That, at least, took his mind off the day's incident.

He woke in the morning, head pounding, mouth dry, feeling sick to his stomach. Again, he tried not to think about the rape. He went through the morning routine in slow motion. Another shower, teeth, shave, etc. It was difficult, but he made it through. Bill drank again. This time glass after glass of water. Rehydrate and some aspirin to dull the headache.

After checking out, he got back in the car and headed out on the road. Once again he was driving in silence and once again, he was lost in thought. The miles flew past. Bill's body was on auto pilot. He drove the rest of the distance and checked into the next hotel. By then the hangover had worn off, and he didn't want to drown himself in alcohol again. This trip was to present a business proposition, he needed to be as clear headed as he could.

In the hotel room Bill found himself on the bed with the $100 bill in his hands again. He was staring at the number. He picked up his cell phone and typed the number in. It was then that a random image popped into his head. The boy from the bathroom. The boy that raped him yesterday. Bill saw the boy's face clearly and his name: Alan, no. Adam, no. Aiden. That was it. His name was Aiden, Aiden Radcliffe.

He took his laptop out and typed the name into the address bar. The boy's images popped up, his gut tightened. That was him, the son of a multi-billionaire.

Bill found his solution of how to get the boy, blackmail. Hell ya.

Bill went to sleep with a more positive attitude. His presentation also went well the next day. Things were looking up. As Bill drove back he thought about how he was going to pin the boy and get him to admit what he did. This would be a massive public embarrassment for the Radcliffe family. They would pay to make this go away.

Days later, Bill took that $100 from his wallet, dialed the number, and waited.

"Hello?"

"I've got you you little fucker," Bill said.

"Who is this?" the voice asked.

"Remember last week? The bathroom at the coffee shop?"

"What about it?"

"You raped me you little fucker, and I know who you are and I want compensation or you're going to jail."

The voice laughed.

The audacity of this little fucker. Bill thought once again.

"Hold on a minute," the voice said.

It sounded like the line went dead. A moment later a man's voice came on. "This is Ryan Wilcox, attorney for Aiden Radcliffe, to whom am I speaking?"

"Bill Sutter, the man your client raped a few days ago."

"Is that so?" Mr. Wilcox responded.

"Alleged," came Aiden's voice. Apparently, this was a conference call.

"You know what you did!" Bill yelled.

"Mr. Sutter, please. There is no need to shout. Let's get together and have a conversation," he suggested. "Can you come to my office on Friday?"

Friday was two days away, Bill could arrange that.

"Where is your office?" Bill asked.

Mr. Wilcox gave the address; it was located in Los Angeles. Bill lived in Wisconsin.

"Oh, uh. No I cannot," Bill told him. He explained that he lived half way across the country and couldn't get there by Friday. Mr. Wilcox arranged to meet him at a local law office.

Over the next two days Bill felt good about the lawyer wanting to meet. It felt like a sign that things were going to go his way. On Friday he arrived at the local lawyer's office and walked in. Bill was escorted to the conference room. Aiden and Mr. Wilcox sat at the conference table while a third lady, a stenographer, was in the corner of the room. This looked more official and serious.

"Would you like something to drink?" the secretary asked.

"Coffee please," Bill responded. Aiden snickered.

Mr. Wilcox introduced himself to Bill. They shook hands and sat. "We will be on the record for this conversation. Is your lawyer coming Mr. Sutton?"

The lady in the corner typed quickly.

"I do not have one," Bill responded.

"So in this matter you are representing yourself, is that correct?" the lawyer asked.

"That is correct," Bill told him.

Mr. Wilcox began. "You allege that my client raped you in a public bathroom on November the Third, 2018?"

"I do," Bill responded.

"Can you tell me about the event in question?" he requested.

Bill explained to him all the details he could recall about that day. Mr. Wilcox then talked quietly with Aiden, whispers that Bill could not make out.

"Do you have evidence of this alleged crime?"

Bill did not.

"Did you make a police report? Go to the hospital for DNA swabs or tests or a rape kit?" Mr. Wilcox asked.

"No," Bill responded.

"Do you have any evidence supporting your claim? Video from the coffee shop showing the possibility of you two in the bathroom at the same time? Or of you and my client in the coffee shop?" Mr. Wilcox asked.

FUCK! This was not going Bill's way at all. He knew then, that they were going to dismiss him and he was stuck with nothing but being raped and Aiden getting away with it.

"Could you excuse us for a moment Mr. Sutter?" Mr. Wilcox asked.

Bill stood and left the conference room. All his hope was crushed. He sat in the waiting area wallowing in the misery of what had just transpired. He felt like he should just walk out now, but one never knows. Despite how it felt this could still go his way.

Bill was summoned back into the conference room. He again sat across the table from Mr. Wilcox and Aiden.

Mr. Wilcox spoke, "Mr. Sutton, we have a few problems here. I should warn you that it's in your best interest not to pursue this allegation."

"You can't stop me," Bill said unsure where that attitude had come from.

"You are correct," Mr. Wilcox agreed. "However, after conferring with my client, the first matter we have here is blackmail. Mr. Radcliffe has told me that you said you wanted money or you would pursue this lawsuit. Blackmail is illegal in itself. Second, we have this," He pulled a manilla folder from his briefcase and slid it across the table. Bill opened it and had no idea what he was looking at.

"This is the result of a rape kit examination that my client had performed on the day in question. He claimed he was raped in the bathroom of a coffee shop off Route 95 in Connecticut. My client was admitted to the Backus Hospital. The staff found semen in his rectum. In that folder you will find a police report and hospital report stating these facts. The DNA results are in the folder as well. While we cannot compare the results to your DNA at this time, we can with a court order."

That little fucker! Bill thought. At some point after raping him, Aiden must have gathered some of his semen and took it. This little fucker is blackmailing him. Bill's head spun.

"I think we are done here," Bill stood and headed for the door.

"Mr. Sutton," Mr. Wilcox called.

Bill stopped and turned.

"I think you need to sit and listen. This kind of crime does not go away even after prison. Additionally, my client is underage. Therefore, this is statutory rape at a minimum. Even prisoners hate pedophiles."

"This is bullshit. This is not what happened." Bill was so angry.

"Mr. Sutton. We have evidence to the contrary. Do you have any to refute the accusations?"

Bill stood silent. Aiden had a little smile on his face. The audacity of this little shit. Moments later he sat back down.

Mr. Wilcox slid another folder across the table. Bill opened it and inside was five pages of legalese. He tried reading but had a really hard time.

"Let me help you understand, Mr. Sutton." Mr. Wilcox said, "My client is offering you a way out. This is it. This is the only way out of the accusation. This is a contract of servitude. My client has some very interesting desires and enjoys having slaves. This will be your role in this arrangement. You will be asked by my client to serve him and whomever he wishes. All living expenses will be provided, including medical. Your current house or apartment will continue to be paid for by my client. After completion of your contract you will be able to return to your life or whatever life you choose. You will also receive a ten million dollar [8,200,000€] tax free gift from my client at the end of the contract, paid into an offshore account or cryptocurrency."

Bill couldn't believe his ears. This fucking kid had turned the table, blackmailing him, by way of a false accusation and evidence, and now wanted Bill to serve as his slave? Bill flipped through the contract picking up on a few words. There was a list of fetishes he would be subjected to. He supposed this was not negotiable, since he didn't have a shred of evidence to back up his account even though it was the truth. The term length was two years. Two years couldn't be that long, could it? His options were to either find out what this life would be like through contract or in prison. That is if he wasn't shanked on the first day. Sodomy, already had that. Oral, done that. Watersports, nope haven't tried that. Chastity, BDSM, sounding, enemas, leather… the list went on. The boy was into everything it seemed, and he had no choice but to agree.

Bill was handed a pen and he signed the last page. This was the end of his life as he knew it, and the beginning of something he'd never even thought was a possibility.

Chapter 2
Physical and Inauguration

Bill was given a week to tie things up with people in his life. Thankfully he didn't have much to take care of. The story he was to tell; he had been given a great career opportunity overseas. He would be gone for an unknown amount of time, however he would get in touch when he got back. After that week he was picked up by a black SUV.

Typical! Bill thought. He had been told to bring nothing with him. He got into the SUV, there was a glass panel between him and the driver. He sat in the back seat, alone with his thoughts.

The money excited him, but the fact that he was now the toy of a deranged teen scared him. Bill still didn't consider himself gay or into males, and yet here he was on his way to who knows where for the next two years to be used in whatever way Aiden could think of. Along with the fear and sorrow there was a slight bit of intrigue inside Bill. The boy was cunning and seemed to plan things well. Bill thought back and wondered what Aiden would have done if Bill didn't ejaculate on the bathroom floor. Pure speculation but he figured Aiden wouldn't have had what he needed to blackmail him and Bill would have been off scot free. Well, minus being raped. That hurt like hell, but in a small way his body had enjoyed at least part of it.

Bill was driven to a small local airport and boarded a private jet. He wasn't sure what direction they went, but they flew for hours. There was great food and movies, and drinks. He was being waited on like he himself was a millionaire. These people serving him probably didn't know any better. Figured he was a client or friend of the family.

They landed and disembarked. The surroundings were certainly unfamiliar. It was warm/tropical. Bill heard birds singing and squawking, waves crashing in the distance. Caribbean maybe.

Bill was brought to an old but luxurious house. It was concrete or adobe or something. Looked to be a couple hundred years old. He supposed this place would have an original dungeon and slaves' quarters. Little did he know how right he was. Inside Bill was told to wait by the front door. He stood and waited. The entrance to the house was a grand foyer. Double half circle staircases wrapped up to the right and left. A hall lead between the staircases further along the first floor. There were double doors at the bottom of each staircase leading to the wings. Obviously, Bill had no idea what lay behind any door or down any hallway. He didn't really know what to expect. His stomach was tight with the tension of the unknown.

Aiden came into the foyer, that stupid little smirk on his face. He looked Bill up and down, making him feel tiny. Bill couldn't believe that a boy could make him feel so puny. He hated the kid so much and here, now he had to serve Aiden's every whim for the next two years. Bill was told to follow and he did. They walked along the hall under the wrapping stairs. The woodwork in the house was exquisite; carved in a time when fine craftsmanship was a lifelong trade. Power tools didn't exist, things were built to last a lifetime or longer. Built from the blood, sweat, and tears of the craftsmen creating them. The paneling and trim a dark oak. Could have been pine, Bill didn't really know the difference. But he figured back when this house was built extravagant hard woods were the choice.

They walked through a door and the room on the other side was in stark contrast. White, bright, and sterile. A man in doctor or nursing scrubs sat at a computer, back to the room.

Aiden spoke, "This is Dr. Fielding. He will be conducting a thorough exam, so I don't accidently kill you. Hurting you on the other hand…" and he walked out of the room with that damn smirk on his face.

"Please take your clothes off and sit on the exam table, Mr. Sutton," Dr. Feilding politely ordered without turning around.

Bill took everything off except his underwear and sat. Dr. Feilding turned.

"You better start listening and doing exactly what you're told Mr. Sutton," he said.

Bill felt embarrassed, but stood and removed his underwear, covering his genitals.

"I have been a doctor for thirty years. You have nothing I haven't seen before," said the doctor perhaps trying to make Bill feel a bit more comfortable.

Bill sat back on the table.

"I will be going over every inch of you, so please don't feel embarrassed. We will be taking blood and semen samples…"

"Just ask that fucking kid for my semen," Bill interrupted.

Dr. Fielding paused and looked Bill in the eyes. "Listen," he said in a hushed voice. "This is your reality now. This is your life for however long this kid wants you. I fell into a similar trap as you did. I am the doctor that delivered him, have also been his PCP, then he did this to me too. So here I am, just like you. But my best advice, do what you are told, or he will cause you pain you have never experienced." He paused to let that sink in. "Deep down he is a good kid. I don't know where this crazy fetishism came from, but we cannot change it. I am here to ensure that you can handle his use and abuse without it being life threatening. Other than that, I cannot change this scenario."

"Can't you say I have a condition?" Bill asked.

Dr. Fielding laughed. "This kid is smart. Plus, he has the bloody internet to check all my findings. I tried once and he caught me. I was punished too, I may not be one of his slaves, but I do serve him and have no choice."

Bill felt the weight of the doctor's words and bit more defeated. Dr. Fielding started with a basic look over Bill's body, examining the skin for blemishes and scars, documenting every inch with photos. His penis and anus were also examined closely. The doctor took out a long device, a thin tube with a larger head on it. The doctor explained it was a cystoscope, that it was going to be inserted into the penis and bladder. Bill's blood froze.

"This is a simple procedure, it'll be a little uncomfortable, but something you better get used to. Aiden likes 'sounding' inserting things into the penis. This is going to help me determine the health of your urethra and check your bladder."

"You don't put me under or numb me?" Bill asked.

"Normally that's the case, but this is something you will probably experience frequently. So, again, get used to it. I will also be scoping your rectum. Please lie back."

Dr. Fielding put gloves on and sterilized the scope and Bill's penis. The gloves and alcohol felt cold on him. The doctor also coated the scope with an iodine lube. He gently grabbed Bill's penis and pushed the tip into his urethra. Bill squirmed with discomfort. There was a burning as the scope slowly pushed its way into him. He felt a strong urge to pee and told the doctor.

"I am entering the bladder. Push like you're trying to pee and it'll help the scope enter. If you leak a little, it'll be okay."

Once in the bladder, the doctor tapped a key on the keyboard. The computer screen showed the video from the scope. The scope was slowly withdrawn, which the computer recorded.

Once fully out Bill sighed relief. His urethra continued to burn uncomfortably.

Dr. Fielding pulled stirrups out of the exam table. "Legs up please."

Bill put his legs into the stirrups and felt very vulnerable. He knew what was coming next. Dr. Fielding grabbed a slightly larger scope and lubed it. Before inserting he inspected Bill's anus. It was still a bit puffy from the rape just over a week ago. The scope went in, Bill jumped from the discomfort. Dr. Fielding made notes and took more video.

"Slight damage. Lucky you," Dr. Fielding remarked. "Looks like your anus and rectum will be off limits for a while."

Bill was relieved over that at least.

Dr. Fielding took out another tray, for the blood test. He tied Bill's arm and inserted the needle. Five vials for who knows what. Bill speculated STD's, but had no clue what else they would be looking for. Bill was then ordered off the table to perform various movements to test his flexibility and joints. For his age, his early 30's anyway, he was in quite good shape.

Dr. Fielding took a cold pack out of a cabinet, activated it, and handed it to Bill.

"Put this over your genitals for five minutes," he told Bill.

"What? Why?" Bill asked.

"I need to get some measurements of your genitals when they are at the smallest. Cold does that quite nicely."

Confused Bill did what he was told. A few minutes later the doctor measured the length of Bill's shriveled penis, around his scrotum and the displacement of his shrunken testicles.

The last was the semen sample. He was given a magazine and a cup. To his surprise the magazine was all women. Even under the current circumstances Bill started getting erect. This proved that his penis worked just fine. He asked for privacy, but was told it wouldn't happen. Dr. Fielding said he would be working on his notes while Bill produced the sample. Bill complied, flipping through the magazine, checking all the pictures first. After he examined them all he flipped to the stories and read. Women and stories of sex really turned him on. He was lost in his own fantasies when interrupted.

"Let me know when you are close to an orgasm," Dr. Fielding said without turning.

Bill continued and was almost there. He indicated to the doctor who came over and measured his erection, length and circumference. Bill was left to finish, he fapped until climax letting out a small involuntary moan and aimed into the cup. Dr. Fielding took the cup and magazine and returned to the computer. He told Bill there were some wipes on the counter to clean himself up with. Bill stood and took care of any dribbles still coming out and on his hand.

The door opened and Bill covered up. A lady came in and told Bill to follow her.

"Can I get dressed first?" Bill asked.

"You will no longer be wearing clothes, unless your master wants to dress you up," she told him.

Bill continued to cover himself and followed her out of the room and down the hall. He was led to a magnificent bathroom. The room was large and covered in marble. He was ordered to shower and get into the hot bath. Even under the circumstances Bill was able to observe his surroundings and continued to be impressed. After the shower Bill got into the bath. The water was hot, almost too hot. It felt good though. Bill lost himself in thought and relaxation when the woman returned with a tray. On it was a chastity cage.

"Put this on," she ordered.

"I don't even know what that is," He replied.

"Up, out of the water and dry off," she told him. Bill did so continually covering his privates.

When he was dry she told him to uncover. She got on her knees and put the tray on the floor. She roughly grabbed Bill's scrotum and pulled it down. This hurt a bit and Bill winced. She then picked up the metal circle and pushed one of his balls through the ring, then the other, then his penis. She picked up the cage, it looked too small, but she slipped it onto Bill's penis packing it tight into the metal tube. She lined everything up and applied a lock. Bill had no idea things like this still existed. When she was done, she let everything go, he was very aware of the weight of the device that was now locked onto his dick.

"You will not be allowed orgasms or arousal unless your master gives you permission. You will experience chafing for the next few weeks. We will put a lubricant inside to help get you used to the chastity cage. Erections are going to hurt, it is suggested you avoid them," she explained to Bill. "If you attempt to pull your penis out of the cage while wearing it, you will be fitted with a spiked cage that will inflict excruciating pain or a chastity belt, also much more painful. Is this understood?"

Bill nodded.

She pointed to a counter with various bottles on it. "Essential oils. Pick a scent you enjoy and cover yourself with it. You will do this after every shower to keep your skin soft. Severe punishment can also be a part of your discipline, in which case you may have broken skin. In that case, there are creams to prevent infection. Rest assured that if you allow your health to degrade, your contract will be extended. Each day you are out of commission will be added to the end of the contract. Your contract states you are to be available to your master for 730 days."

This number hit Bill like a ton of bricks. Two years now sounded like forever.

"Additionally, your training does not count. You will be in training with me and another trainer for the time it takes for us to release you to your master. We will turn you over when we feel you are fit for service."

He felt like he was going to be sick. The two years just had an unknown amount of time added for training and the addition of any days he was in the infirmary. Being a fast study just became Bill's priority and not landing in the infirmary was going to be a necessity.

She finally introduced herself, "I am Madam Moon. You can call me that or Madam. There are no other optionsoptions. Mistakes are punished in many ways, mostly pain. Pain seems to be the best reminder to avoid mistakes. Your master is ruthless. He demands the utmost from you and expects me to deliver a trained and well-disciplined slave. Training starts now."

Madam Moon demanded Bill to stand up straight. She was pleasant and gentle, correcting his posture and placing his hands on his lower back. "Hands when not bound or being used are to be flat against the lower back, right hand over the left. You should stand tall, head level but never make eye contact with anyone unless given permission. You will not speak unless given permission. Feet are to be shoulder width apart when standing. You will also be on your knees a lot, be sure to start practicing when you have free time. It's going to hurt in the beginning, but you will get used to it."

A man entered the bathroom, fit and tall. He had nothing but a leather thong on, locks hanging from the waist strap and the strap along his crack. He walked with confidence, hands behind his back as Madam Moon had showed Bill. Bill thought this must be another slave. He was, but a slave with privileges, he was a trainer.

"This is Mustafa," Madam Moon told Bill.

Mustafa stopped and bowed, never looking either of them in the eye.

"Return the bow," Madam Moon told Bill. Bill bowed, down slow, paused then back up. After, he looked over at Madam Moon.

"Eyes," she reminded Bill. He looked away immediately. She knew that these things took time. In the beginning she was always gentle with new interns as long as they were trying, but if they didn't learn, she made sure they did.

Bill's training continued, and he was told that it would be a never-ending process. Once he was ready to be presented to Master Aiden, the training phase would be over, however there would be ongoing additional lessons. After learning the basics of posture and his place, lower than all the others in the household, the lowest in the hierarchy. He was told he would serve Aiden first and foremost. While the others in the house could not make outrageous demands of Bill, he was to treat them with the same respect he would Master Aiden.

"Master Aiden is not happy with your body," Madam Moon told Bill.

This made Bill feel even more self-conscious. Being almost 100% naked, apart from the chastity device covering his penis, leaving his testicles exposed, he hadn't thought he could have felt more insecure.

Bill was taken out into the grounds and shown around. There were acres of beautiful grass, shrubs, flower beds, numerous topiaries, and a large hedge maze all beautifully manicured. Whoever took care of these grounds had an amazing green thumb and meticulous attention to detail. Toward the edge of the property was an area that looked unkept. This was Bill's first project. With nothing but hand tools he was to transform the overgrown lifeless area into something beautiful. The master gardener provided the drawings as to what the area was to look like. Bill had never really created something before. He was both nervous and excited to take on this project.

Before he started work Bill was fitted with a new device. The chastity cage was removed much to Bill's relief. He had been told it was going to chafe, and it certainly had. His scrotum where the ring wrapped around felt raw, and his penis, similarly so. When he had his typical morning wood, the pain was so immense it would wake him out of a dead sleep. He would get up quickly and find the bucket in his cell, relieving the bladder pressure and in turn allowing the erection to go down. He hated the cage and had constantly wished he didn't have to wear it.it on.

Now a cotton matting was put on like a diaper without the sides. It felt so much better than the metal he'd worn for the first few days. Over the matting a much larger metal chastity belt was fixed. It covered him front and back like large metal underwear. The device was locked on over his hip bones making it impossible to remove. Bill asked how he was to go to the bathroom; he was shocked to be told he was also getting a lesson in holding his bodily functions and humility.

To start, Bill had to remove all the dead and overgrown shrubs, weeds, and trees. He was instantly aggravated by the hand tools and how hard the work was. His muscles quickly tired and he took many breaks. Madam Moon was in the shade a few yards away telling him to work harder. Bill's thirst became impossible to ignore, but he refused to drink so he wouldn't have to pee. Besides, his water was in a bucket with a ladle, like he was a slave… He again realized he was. Nothing was going to be his own decision, nothing was going to be like the life he lived prior to stopping at that coffee shop.

Bill broke and drank water to quench his thirst. He used saws and clippers to remove the large shrubbery. The first day was brutal. Weak and under used until now, his muscles quickly gave up. Bill struggled to make any real progress, and was very thirsty. He drank more and eventually needed to pee. He tried to remove the belt to no avail and then peed himself. The cotton padding absorbed some, but once full, urine ran down his legs. Bill was humiliated but knew that he had to keep working. Worse, later he had to make a bowel movement. He begged to have the belt removed, but the request fell on deaf ears. Bill felt shame as his bowels let loose and he filled the makeshift diaper. He could smell himself, it was foul. He was made to work for a few more hours in the soiled belt before being allowed to go in to bathe.

This was Bill's life through his training. Days of sculpting his personality, emotions, and body through humiliation and brutal chores. Bill knew that the sooner he readied himself, the sooner his contract would start and end. Madam Moon and Mustafa were tough teachers but conscientious caretakers. When Bill was feeling the days work, they would provide a bath and oils to help his muscles recover faster. When Bill made a mistake they would discipline in an archaic manner, beating him into submission. All this work made Bill into the slave that would eventually please Aiden.

Chapter 3
Life as a Slave – The Pain

It was the end and the beginning. Bill met the demands of training. Aiden was to be presented with his new slave. In typical fashion, Aiden would try to emotionally break the slave on the first day. Bill was warned of this, but was determined to stay strong, no matter what Aiden threw at him.

The ceremony was small, there was a presentation of Bill to Aiden. Bill was dressed only in his chastity device, something he had become used to wearing. Bill's body was well oiled, his skin several shades darker, glowing in the morning sun. He had transformed from lanky and scrawny to well defined muscles. He presented himself with more pride than before and unfortunately had Aiden to thank for this. He stood in the center of a grand room. Madam Moon and Mustafa to his sides. No one spoke, they waited.

Bill was nervous. He previously hated the boy for his cruel underhanded behavior. Bill rarely recalled the rape anymore. His mind had been recently occupied with coping with the mental and physical challenges.

Aiden entered and the room filled with tension. Bill inhaled and held his breath. Aiden walked up to Bill and looked him in the eye. Bill stared into the distance, now engrained that eye contact was forbidden. Aiden slowly walked around looking Bill up and down, inspecting and noticing the changes. Aiden was happy with the changes and couldn't wait to get Bill into service.

"Madam Moon, Mustafa," Aiden spoke. "As always your sculpting is impressive. I didn't think this piece of shit would bulk up."

The two bowed in gratitude.

"You may leave," Aiden told them.

Bill was once again left alone with Aiden. Fear entered his mind. The past month and a half had been tough, but he had got through it. The time had aided in his personal development. The next two years started now, and Bill had no idea what was coming. The boy had been cruel and cunning in the coffee shop bathroom. What was in store now that Bill was property.

"Always remember that I, a thirteen-year-old boy, raped you and got away with it." Aiden continually circled Bill while talking. Bill stared at the same spot on the far wall. "I was able to make you submit to my whim when you had a choice. Now you are under contract to serve me and whomever I bring into the situation. Your life is going to be hell, and I'm going to use you to satisfy my insatiable hunger for rough and brutal sex."

Aiden smacked Bill's firm ass, a loud sharp crack echoed from the walls. Bill did not flinch, he stood strong, repeating a mantra to stay strong. Aiden circled again looking Bill over then smacked the other cheek. Bill refused to allow the sting to break his concentration for a moment.

Aiden stopped in front of Bill and stared into his eyes. Bill stared into the distance until Aiden demanded eye contact. Bill looked down the few inches into Aiden's eyes. He noticed for the first time how beautiful they were. A mixture of dark and pale blue exploded from constricted pupils. A few silver flecks shot out from the center. The perimeter of his iris was black as though traced with eyeliner. His eyes contrasted with his heart, the boy's heart seemed cold and distant. How else could he treat people like this? Bill felt the pull of opposing emotions, seeing love and caring in the boy's eyes, but feeling the brutal pain of the boy's hand and personality.

"You will start in the dungeon," Aiden told Bill. "Down there you will be left in the dark, bound in whatever manner I decide. It'll be painful, I hope you're ready for that." Aiden's smirk came across his face. Bill felt the mood of the room turn cold.

Aiden led Bill to the dungeon, and it was exactly what it sounded like. It was the basement of the mammoth house. The walls were ancient stone, probably placed by slaves themselves. If one were to excavate the exterior of the foundation, more than likely the skeletons of discarded slaves would be found. The thought sent chills through Bill, not to mention the cold damp stale air. On the walls were racks of equipment for causing pain, chains to bind a slave to the wall, sex toys for training and humiliation. In the middle of the room were tables, chairs and other devices built to inflict pain. Bill filled with the fear at what he knew was coming. This is where he was going to be broken down. The inevitable sex part wasn't the big deal. How more humiliating than rape can things get? Besides, in a legal contractual sort of way, anything that happened to Bill over the next two years was consensual.

"Where should we start?" Aiden asked rhetorically. He liked so many different things as long as they created pain for his slave. Their pain was a form of pleasure inside Aiden. The boy started by removing the cage that had been constricting Bill's genitals for week after week. While at first the cage was painful, rubbing constantly in spots, Bill grew to like his dick locked up away from his hands.

Aiden took Bill to a large wood cross that had leather straps on the four points. These, Bill found, were to bind his head, hands and feet. Bill was indeed bound tight to the cross, he wondered if he was thinking the same thing Jesus thought when he was crucified. Bill was sure that back then, the Jews weren't thinking in terms of sexual torture like Aiden no doubt was, but in killing. Thankfully for Bill, that was not in Aiden's right, to kill.

The rest of the cage was removed from Bill, the ring tightly surrounding his penis and scrotum. There was a little pain as Aiden pushed his testes through the steel ring. Bill noticed and tried to associate it with pleasure. This was his tactic, to turn pain into pleasure. Aiden rummaged through a drawer and brought out a device Bill had never seen before. It was like the chastity cage but looked more brutal. There was a solid ring with screwable spikes pointing into the ring. There was also a metal tube that attached and ran through the center of the spiked ring. Bill was intrigued, nervous, and terrified at the same time. Aiden also grabbed some lube and rubbing alcohol and set it all on a tray near Bill. Aiden cleaned the device with the alcohol along with Bill's penis. He unscrewed the six pointed screws so they were flush with the interior of the ring. He then lubed the tube in the center of the ring.

"This is going to hurt," Aiden said with a smile.

He pulled Bill's penis straight and inserted the metal tube into Bill's urethra. Bill squirmed with burning pain as the foreign object slid into him. The cold steel surrounded his penis. Aiden then started turning the screws, pressing them hard against Bill's flesh. The tiny points felt like they were burning their way into his skin. Bill hoped the torture was over, but he was wrong. On the wall was a television. Aiden turned it on and played straight porn for Bill to watch. Bill felt himself becoming aroused. His swelling member caused the points to push painfully deeper into his skin. He closed his eyes and thought of anything other than sex.

"Open your eyes!" Aiden shouted. "Or I will open them for you."

Bill opened and returned his attention to the screen. He watched but continued to think about anything else. Math, his mother naked, his father naked, dead puppies, dead babies… anything. For a few minutes it seemed to work. But when Bill couldn't think of anything else, the images on the screen caught his attention and he was lost in the porn. The man was performing oral sex on the girl. How Bill loved doing that, he recalled he and his first girlfriend when he was just a teen. Bill lost control over his expanding sex. Regardless of the pain his erection grew. He thought the screws were going to pierce his skin. Tears dripped from his eyes and he struggled to free himself from the straps. Aiden loosened the screws, but this action brought more pain. The turning metal pressed so hard against his skin was excruciating. Bill couldn't hold back and let out a yelp in pain. Aiden smiled, the erection in his shorts obvious. This kid really got off on control, causing pain, or both.

To Bill's surprise nothing sexual happened that first day. Just lessons in pain and then humiliation. After the penis device, Aiden had Bill drink water. Bill had a fleeting thought; the boy is being nice. Little did Bill know that this was just preparation for the next act. Bill was made to drink until he felt ready to burst. Aiden then had him lay on his back on a padded table. Bill was strapped down, the cock cage removed. Aiden rolled a tight condom catheter over Bill's still sore penis. The tube ran through some supports and ended at Bill's mouth. Aiden fitted his mouth with a dental device holding it open. Bill knew what was to come.

He laid for a while. The first thing he felt was discomfort in his jaw. While the dental device held it open, it still started to ache. Aiden sat in a chair patiently waiting. The first twinge, the first need to urinate finally came. Bill moaned in despair as the pressure in his bladder grew, but he held it. This is absolutely revolting, Bill thought to himself. However, the bathroom flashed into his mind, sucking Aiden's cum and shit covered cock after he raped Bill. Urine, while awful, didn't seem nearly as bad.

Almost as though Aiden could read his thoughts, "You're going to want to swallow!" He smiled.

The pressure was too much. Bill held off for almost two hours while Aiden sat patiently to the side. The damn burst and Aiden watched as the liquid traveled along the tube and sprayed into Bill's mouth. Bill struggled trying to move his head to the side, but it was bound too tightly in place. His mouth filled and he started gagging.

"Swallow or drown!" Aiden yelled.

Bill did, he swallowed as his mouth continually filled. He gagged and coughed and swallowed until the stream slowed and there were only dribbles. He felt disgusted. After Bill was finished, Aiden removed the tube and catheter. Bill was relieved, thinking that the humiliation was over. Aiden climbed up onto the table and stood straddling Bill. He unzipped and pulled his erection out. Bill watched in horror as the stream came from his dick and rained down. The aim was off spraying his forehead, but Aiden corrected and was filling Bill's mouth with his own hot urine. Bill swallowed knowing the consequences if he didn't. The flavor was different. Nothing good, Bill noted, but different.

After Aiden finished, he replaced Bill's cock cage and unstrapped the slave. Bill was glad that was over but knew that it was not going to be the last time that happened. He would have to get used to being the boy's urinal. While he may never enjoy the taste, giving the act a more positive light would be key to getting through it.

The day ended with a bit of discipline. While Bill made it through the torture and humiliation, Aiden wasn't completely satisfied. Bill fought the urine and refused to swallow until he knew he had to. The next stop in the dungeon was a bench that was used for spanking among other things. The bench had a padded step for kneeling. The slave was bent over a higher padded table then strapped so they could not escape the abuse. Bill was made to kneel on the pad, his legs strapped to the legs of the table. Bent over he was strapped to the table then hands bound underneath.

Aiden walked over to the wall in front of Bill. On display were different paddles, whips and canes. Aiden looked though them trying to decide just what punishment Bill needed.

"Never struggle," Aiden told Bill.

"I'm sorry sir," Bill said. "I don't like piss in my…"

"Shut up," Aiden screamed. "Weren't you taught to not speak?"

Bill realized his mistake. "I'm sorr…"

Aiden got in Bill's face. Bill could see the anger and displeasure. "I said shut up. I do not want to hear your opinion. I do not what to hear your voice unless I ask you a direct question. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," Bill muttered.

Aiden grabbed a wooden paddle from the wall and got behind Bill. The first hit came. Hard and it stung. Bill cried out in pain. Aiden swung a few more times. Involuntary tears leaked from Bill. He clenched his teeth trying to keep the sounds of pain from escaping him.

Aiden stopped and went to a drawer. He removed a ball gag and placed it in Bill mouth; cinched it tight. The spanking ensued. Bill lost track of how many times he was hit. He thought his ass was falling apart, it hurt so bad. In his mind the skin was split, and chunks of flesh were falling off. In reality everything was intact. No broken skin, no blood. Just red, swollen, and tender. The assault felt like hours but was only a few minutes. Aiden broke a sweat swinging the paddle, making sure Bill would remember his place. Bill heard the paddle hit the floor and footsteps walking away. He was left strapped to the bench, for how long he didn't know. He drifted in and out of sleep. The beating took everything out of him. Without windows, he couldn't use daylight to gauge time.

Eventually he heard footsteps approaching. Madam Moon came into view and leaned down to Bill's face. Bill looked into her eyes for a moment then looked away. She unstrapped Bill and brought him out of the dungeon into the bathroom. It was a glaring contrast, Madam Moon, firm but fair, to Aiden who was brutal and selfish. The dark and dank of the dungeon compared to the white and bright of the bathroom. The pain and humiliation compared to the warmth and comfort.

To Be Continued