Shakey Psyche

The Operative

Prelude - Lethal

Thirteen. Wow. I never thought I'd make it past eleven, least of all into my teens. I'm Seth, by the way; Seth Addams, and like most people, I have a past that I'd rather forget. Although, unlike 'most people', my past had put me in danger more times than I could count. But, now, for the first time in many years, I'd known peacefulness for an entire year. I should have known it wasn't going to last. I should have known things wouldn't ever be normal for me. But, I'd hoped.

My bus ride home from school was painfully normal; my girlfriend, Lora, was sitting next to me and I was giving her a tonsillectomy with my tongue. She and I'd been together for only two months, but we'd been flirting with each other for the past half year. A month ago, she accepted my just-over-six-inch [15 cm cock for the first time, tearing her virginity to shreds. She'd screamed to the high heavens at the time, but still came back for more.

The bus stopped and after giving Lora another kiss and a patented smile, I exited the bus. On the way out, I listened to an argument between an idiot, Jeff McManus, and his friend, Bob Steward, over the likelihood of the Dallas Cowboys actually winning a playoff game or not. Jeff was the epitome of the term 'fan' when it came to the team to the south of us. I didn't really care, but in all likelihood, there was no way they were going to win.

Aside from that, it was a beautiful, crisp January day, and a week to go before flipping the calendar, hitting that big one-three. As I stepped off the bus at the side of the road, I waved good-bye to Lora and headed to the mailbox with the name 'Cash' on it. After opening the box and getting the mail, I thought something felt out of place. There have been times in the past where I listened to that feeling and I've never regretted it. The air felt 'wrong' somehow. Someone else might have thought that I was being paranoid. That may be true, but that paranoia had kept me alive more times than I care to count.

The road leading to Mike and Sara's house was a simple dirt path about a quarter of a mile long from the main road. The house itself was a quaint two story one that looked like something out of 'Little House on the Prairie'. The Cashes took me in over a year ago without any questions or prejudices. I was eleven at the time, going on twelve, and they were exceptionally nice to me, without knowing my past or wanting to.

Now, this.

Knowing that something was off, I decided to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary and play it out as if I were ignorant. However, my paranoia that had kept me alive also had me taking precautions. In my backpack, where I carried my books, there was a slim knife sewn into the fabric. As I got to the front door, I slipped my hand back to the almost flat handle of it.

"Sara, I'm home," I said to a too-quiet house. I set the backpack and the mail down, but slipped the knife from the sheath.

"Back here," she replied, but there was an ever-so-slight quiver to her voice on the second word.

Yep; something's wrong, my little voice told me as if I didn't already know.

I walked through the front living room and into the dining room-kitchen combination, holding the hand with the knife in it behind my back.

"Sara?" I asked again. I knew she was in the laundry room, but I was trying to act as if nothing was out of place.

Something moved to my left and I slung the knife around. It was thrown exactly where it was intended and sunk into the head of someone wearing a black mask. The floorboard creaked behind me and I moved to sidekick whomever it was, nailing them in the stomach. An upper cut later, sent him flying backward, and his handgun to the floor. I grabbed his own weapon and, without thinking, sent a bullet through his head with a quick pull on the trigger.

Now, to Sara, the voice told me needlessly.

Knowing that whoever else was in the back room probably knew where I was, I decided that being discreet was moot. I slammed my shoulder against the door, causing it to bang open. Two men were in the room. One of them had Sara around the neck with a gun to her head. He was also wearing a black mask. The other one was not wearing a mask and was standing a few feet to their left.

"Hello, Seth," he said coolly, standing there with his hands in his slacks.

I didn't bother to answer back; I just simply moved the aim on the gun towards him.

"Don't even think about it, boy," he growled, suddenly taking a severe stance and glare. "The second you fire that gun, my associate will fire his."

"Who are you and what do you want?" I asked, thinking that I could buy some time.

"As I'm the one holding someone you care about, I'm the one that asks the questions." He took a deep breath, seemingly satisfied with his brand of logic. "Now, if you answer my questions to my satisfaction, then we'll leave you in peace."

Yeah, right; more likely in pieces.

"What do you want to know?" I asked him, shirking off my inner voice.

"I know you were working for the American government when this happened, but I want to know who personally told you to kill my son."

"Who was your son?" I asked, still trying to buy time.

"Oh, come now, Seth, don't play coy with me. You know damn well who I'm talking about."

"Sorry; you have me at a loss." That wasn't a total lie; I had an idea as to whom he was talking about, but not entirely. Besides, with my past, it could have been any number of people he was implying.

"Edward, Seth; Edward Ransom."

I knew instantly that he was telling the truth. There was the same dull look to his eyes that Edward, or Bull, rather, had. There was also the same slope to the forehead. This was Bull's father, or at least a close relative.

"Bull didn't have a father; he was an orphan like the rest of us," I answered back, trying to draw things out a little more.

"Edward's mother lied to me when he was born. She told me the boy was stillborn. I only found out the truth of her lie a year ago. I should have been there for him when she died, but the state took over and he went to an orphanage." He seemed to be looking far away for a split second and then came back to us, recovering. "However, all of that is inconsequential. I want my question answered or the woman dies."

"Fine."

It didn't even take a full second for my decision to play out. I swung my gun to the one holding Sara and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit him in the eye, scattering his brains across the wall behind him. He was dead before his reflexes could pull the trigger.

Ransom moved to pull his own gun out and I nailed him in the hand, sending the gun behind him. He yelped and grabbed his hand with the free one.

"It was a mistake to come here, Ransom," I said, advancing on him, still keeping the pistol trained on his head.

"I only wanted the information, Seth," he said through gritted teeth while cradling his wounded hand.

"I'm not that naïve, shithead," I said with a smirk. "You would never have allowed either of us to live once I told you what you wanted to hear." I turned towards Sara. "Are you alright?" I asked her and she nodded.

I turned my attentions back to Ransom.

"Now, you're going to die without knowing how Bull was killed. Call it a punishment for trying to hurt someone I care about," I said as I backed away a little. "But, I will tell you this; he died on his knees, begging. It was actually a very sad way for a person to die, even one as dimwitted as your son. And I can certainly see the family resemblance." He growled at my insult, but it was true. I smirked back at him and took aim.

"Say goodnight, Gracie."

"Don't do it, Seth," Sara said, stepping in my line of sight to Ransom.

"There isn't a choice here, Sara. If he doesn't---," I was about to tell her that if I don't eliminate him, she and Mike will always be in danger, but Ransom took matters into his own hands.

He jumped at her, pulling a knife with his good hand, aiming for her back. I was quicker than quick in pulling the trigger. The shot went through his neck and he fell backward. The knife clattered to the floor. I gave Sara a quick look and moved over to watch Ransom bleed out.

"Say hello to Bullshit when you see him, asshole," I told him with a certain amount of smugness. He lost consciousness less than a minute later.

I looked at Sara and she had a strange look on her face; it was a mixture of shock, relief, and revulsion. Never minding her for the short time, I grabbed the now-dead body and lifted it up over my shoulder. I carried it outside and laid it down on the ground by the shed in the back. The other bodies were done likewise.

When that was done, I headed back inside, going towards the bedroom they let me stay in. Sara was at the kitchen table gulping down a probable second or third helping of Jim Beam. I couldn't fault her for that. When I got to the room, I began packing some clothes into a travel bag. I had to leave, and leave right then. We may have been in the country somewhat, with very few people, but someone was bound to hear those gunshots.

"Where are you going?" she asked just as I threw in the last item and was zipping the bag closed.

"I can't stay here, Sara," I said, pulling the strap over my shoulder.

"I think I deserve an explanation," she said simply.

"You're right; you do, but if I tell you about what just happened, you and Mike would be in even more danger than you already are. And I don't want that to happen."

"I think we're already in a significant amount of danger. What's a little more?" I couldn't argue with that.

I looked at her, scrutinizingly, for a few minutes and nodded. I told her that if I was going to tell her my story, then she had better call Mike at his work and have him come home for this. I only wanted to tell this just once. She agreed and left the room. I headed out back and began burying the bodies of Ransom and his henchmen. The hole was just being covered up when Mike got home.

As he sat down at the kitchen table, I walked through and got cleaned up. When I came back in and sat down, both of them were looking at me, waiting. I took a deep breath, thinking about how I was going to explain everything and I decided on starting at the beginning.

"What I'm going to tell you may sound impossible, but after this afternoon, I think you'll agree that I'm telling the truth."

"Just take your time, Seth," Mike said, not unkindly.

I nodded. And, as I began talking, my mind slipped back to where things started for me…

I barely remember my parents. I was told that they were nice, but older. Like I was born when my mother was in her forties and my dad was in his fifties. Everything would have been okay except they were killed a few years after I was born. Neither of them had surviving family, so I was sent to live in a state institution. It was the State of Washington and in Seattle, of all cities. It's great if you like grunge music. But I was a little too young to get into that type of thing while I was there.

It wasn't so bad, I suppose. Most of the others in the orphanage pretty much left me alone. I was, like other younger ones, picked on by some of the older kids, but otherwise left to myself. School was school. I didn't like it just simply because it was school. But my life changed drastically when I turned eight years old.

School had just let out for the summer; my favorite day of the year, after my birthday in January. That following Tuesday, a man came to the orphanage to talk to us. The curator of the place led some of us boys into a room. Two of them were younger than me, two others my age, and then three were older. Mr. Travers, the curator, had the eight of us sit into chairs facing him and his guest.

"Boys," he began, "this is Mr. Jones. He's here to talk to you and then give you a test."

All of us groaned. Just what we wanted; another test. If there was something we could all agree on, it was that we didn't want more school.

"It won't be that bad, boys," he said to our complaints. He stepped aside to allow this Mr. Jones to step forward to talk to us.

"Good morning. This won't take a lot of your time. I remember when I was your age I wanted summer vacation to last forever. But, since it doesn't I'll be quick.

"The test I'm going to give you will test your intelligence and aptitude for learning. It will also test your personality. We're looking for some special boys to work for us."

"Work for you? How?" It was one of the older boys; Greg, I think.

"Well, first, there will be training, and then the job. I can't go into everything because it's top secret and only a few people will know about it. But, it will be different than anything else you've ever done. But, we have to see if you're able to do it at all.

"If you have what we're looking for, then we'll talk some more."

With that being said, he handed out the tests to all of us. I don't remember too much about the test, but I do remember the first question.

"If your best friend was beaten up by bullies, what would you do?" The choices were,

1. Tell someone what happened.
2. Get revenge yourself.
3. Just comfort your friend.
4. None of the above.

I put my name on it at the top and handed it in to Mr. Jones. I was one of the last ones finished. Usually, I'm the first one done because I didn't care about the answers. I left the room, thinking I'd probably sucked at it, as usual, as well. From the testing room, I went to the common area to play some games or something with one of the others. About an hour or so later, Mr. Travers walked in.

"Seth Addams?" he asked to the room. I turned towards him. "Please follow me."

He motioned for me to follow him and I did. I was wondering if I'd done something wrong or if it was about the test. I got my answer as we walked back into the room with Mr. Jones in it. Mr. Travers indicated for me to sit into a chair, and I did. From there, he left me alone with the stranger.

"Well," he began, "I'd like to talk to you about your test results, Seth."

"I did good on it?"

"You did well enough for me to talk to you. The others didn't seem like it was all that important. Why did you?"

"I dunno," I said, shrugging, "I just kind of liked the questions."

"I see." He sat there on the table in front of me, sort of sizing me up, I guess. After a few minutes or so, I began to get a little apprehensive under his scrutiny. Finally, he spoke.

"If I tell you what we have in mind, do you think you can keep it to yourself no matter what?" He asked and I nodded. "Even if you don't want to do this, I will expect you to not say a word; ever."

"Why?" He now had my undivided attention. No one had ever confided with me about anything.

"Because there are lives at stake, Seth."

I was a little stunned at that one. How could lives be in danger if I say something to someone about a test I took? At any rate, I nodded that I would keep it quiet.

"Good. Now, what I am offering to you is a job, but it's a dangerous one. One that can get you killed or worse."

"Worse than dying?" I thought death would be the absolute worse thing that could happen to someone. So what could be worse than that? "What's worse than dying?"

"Dying badly."

"Huh?"

"Someone making your death a long, painful one. There are people in this world, Seth, that live only to hurt people. Some people want to kill, while others just want to hurt something. If you do this, you'll probably meet both.

"Don't worry about too much of that, because we can train you to deal with whatever comes your way." I was looking very skeptical at him; I guess that was why he threw that in.

"What's in it for me?"

"I was wondering if or when you were going to ask that," he said, apparently impressed. "If you do this, you'll be trained to handle anything that this world can throw at you and handle it on your own.

"As far as what we're offering you, well, it'll be a lot of money; half a million dollars, to be exact."

My eyes bugged out of their sockets. I knew how much that was, and I knew it was a lot of money. I took a deep breath to remember some questions I had.

"How long would I have to do this?"

"The training is long, and I'll only tell you how long when the time's right. As far as the mission itself; probably in the neighborhood of about four to five years. Only for as long as you're useful."

"Just exactly what AM I going to be doing?"

"That's another question that I can't answer right now, but I will tell you when the time's right. All I can tell you beyond this is this; you'll be making a difference in people's lives."

I sat there thinking about what he'd just said. Some of it scared me, but some of it I liked; mainly that I'd be doing something with my life.

"It's your choice, Seth. You can either make a difference or sit here in this orphanage, hoping to be adopted."

What he said made sense, but was it enough? I had to bring something back down to my level of thinking.

"It's dangerous?"

"Very."

I nodded in return. What was I going to do? I certainly hated the orphanage, but doing something that could get me killed or badly hurt was not something I looked forward to doing.

"Can I think about it?"

"I want your answer by tomorrow morning," he said, nodding. He handed me a card with a phone number and room number on the back.

I turned and left the room. One of the younger ones asked me what it was all about, and I told him it was nothing important. That night, I lay in my bed, thinking about what Mr. Jones, if that was his name, told me. I also thought about my parents and coming to the orphanage. I remember falling asleep thinking about the reality of getting out of the place I was in.

"I guess it wouldn't be too bad," I told myself as I fell asleep.

I woke up and called the number on the card. Jones answered it and after I told him I was interested, he said that he would be picking me up in half an hour.

"I'll be ready," I said after taking a deep breath to reassure myself.

He arrived and I had a bag of clothes with me. I was packed up ready to go. He gave me a strange look when he saw the bag, but didn't say anything about it. Jones shook hands with Mr. Travers and we were gone. I have never seen that orphanage since.

"Where are we going?" I asked, once we were on the flight.

"I have to make a stop in Dallas to pick up one more kid your age. From there, we head to Virginia."

"And then what?"

"Training, Seth, plenty of training."

I took that to mean the discussion was over. I sat in the seat naturally curious about what was going to happen to me once we got to our destination, but didn't ask any more questions. The flight took about three hours or so and we landed in Dallas close to noon.

Jones led me through the airport to the next terminal where a man with another kid were waiting. The kid was about my size, just about an inch [2½ cm] taller than me, slim, with sort of dark blond hair, but with the greenest eyes ever. I wasn't one to like other guys, but his eyes sort of attracted me to him. Jones nodded to the man and he left.

"Seth, this is Alex Branson," Jones said, and introduced him to me as well. We just simply nodded to each other.

We had about an hour before our next flight took off, so after we got something to eat, we just sat in the terminal to wait. Finally, we were called on and we left the DFW airport for Virginia. Alex and I didn't say much to each other along the way. He seemed to just want to stare out the window. I picked up a book and read the whole way.

When we landed, it was raining. What I didn't know, was that it rained a lot in this area of the country. A government car was there waiting for us and as Jones got in the front seat, Alex and I climbed into the back seat for the ride. A quiet hour's ride later, we pulled up to a small building where we were unloaded and led inside. Jones said that our bags would be brought to us later.

Alex and I walked in and I took in our surroundings. It was just a small, one room place with a bathroom at the far end and some beds along the wall. Nothing really remarkable about it. There were ten other boys there in the room, milling about, playing games, and watching television. They didn't pay us any mind when we first entered. Jones cleared his throat to get their attention.

"Boys!"

All of them stopped what they were doing and turned toward us. I was praying that he wouldn't introduce us to them; I always hated being the center of attention. Thankfully, he didn't.

"I need you boys to get into a single file behind Seth and Alex, and then all of you follow me out," he told them.

We stood there as the others filed towards us. They seemed like typical kids around my age, but one stood out like a sore thumb. This kid was big; bigger than the rest of us. I wondered how old this one was, and if he'd repeated any school grades. He didn't seem all that intelligent, but he was here. All the others were different in some ways; there was a black kid, and an Oriental one, but the rest of us were white. Most of us were slim, excluding the bigger kid, and one other one that was just plain fat.

Jones turned and led us out a door to the right and onto one of those buses for the Special Ed kids, but this one had its windows blackened over. Alex led the way and, since we sort of knew each other, we shared a seat. As there were only a total of six seats, everyone had to share one. The fat kid sat with the Oriental one, and the brute of a kid shared a seat with another skinny kid that didn't seem all too pleased with the idea.

Another man walked onto the bus, closed the door, and took his seat behind the wheel. We were off within minutes. As we couldn't see out the windows, or really where we were going, all twelve of us just sat in the seats. The ride didn't take long, but peace among twelve boys doing nothing couldn't last.

"Stop it," a whining voice said from behind me.

Everyone turned to see the big brute messing with the smaller one next to him. The smaller kid was trying to get away from the bully.

"Knock it off, Edward," Jones said from the front.

"Edward?" the black kid asked, mockingly. The others, including myself, also scoffed at his name; it just didn't seem to fit him.

"Yeah, 'Edward'," he said, threateningly. "But everyone calls me 'Bull'."

"Well, that definitely fits," another kid remarked.

Bull got up, looking like he was going to pound the kid, but sat back down once he saw the look on Jones's face. He resumed his seat, but didn't bother anyone else for the duration of the short journey.

The bus pulled up to another building, but this one was bigger; much bigger. I could tell from the outside that it was two stories tall, but I found out later that it had an underground level as well. The bus stopped right next to it, under an awning of some sort. Jones exited the bus, motioning us to follow him again.

We walked behind him in single-file, with Bull bringing up the rear. The first thing I saw upon going into the building was a simple hallway. Jones turned left and we followed him to an open room. Once we were all inside, he began talking to us.

"Okay, do you all see this line on the floor?" he asked. I looked down at his feet and there was a black line stretched out in front of him. I nodded and so did the others. I was sure Bull didn't, but he could see it as plainly as the rest of us, however slow he was.

"Good. When I call your name, I want you to line up on that line." That seemed simple enough.

"Seth Addams." I moved to stand on the line all the way to the right.

"Alexander Branson." Alex stepped forward and stood next to me.

"Leon Coker." The black kid walked up and stood next to Alex. He was fairly slim with the black hair and brown eyes indicative of his race. I found him nice, but seemed to have a chip on his shoulder about some things for most of the time we were there.

"Michael Foster." A brown haired kid with freckles on his face stepped forward to stand next to Leon. He seemed quiet and shy. I kind of wondered why he was here at all. He didn't seem the type that would've answered the questions correctly.

"James Hostetler." Another brown haired kid stepped forward, standing next to Mike. This one was cocky. I could tell by the way he walked. I scowled a little at him. I always hated those types of people.

"Philip Keller." A black haired boy stepped out and lined up. I couldn't tell much from him at that time, other than he was pretty much normal.

"Remington Kelsey." Now, there was a weird name. Remmie, as he liked to be called, was dirty-blond with blue eyes. Just like the rest of us so far, he was also slim, with an angular face. He seemed to have lost the baby fat that the rest of us were still hanging on to.

"Scott Nelson." Scott was the fat kid. He was a year older than me, but probably double my weight. His brown hair was a little wavy, but it was his bulk that made him stand out the most.

"Edward Ransom." Bull stepped out of the remaining four and took his place next to Scott. It elicited another scowl from me, but this time, I wasn't alone.

"Simon Summers." Simon wasn't happy about this, as he was the one that Bull was messing with on the bus ride over there. And standing next to his would-be tormentor was something that he didn't exactly relish.

"Benjamin Young." Ben stood out because of his red hair and more freckles than I could count. Not that I wanted to, but they were there. He also had green eyes, matching Alex's. Very Christmas-y.

"Jeffery Yung." Jeff was the Oriental boy. He was small, even for his age, but even as he walked forward, I thought that he had something special. It wasn't the way he walked; it was more the way he watched the rest of us when he walked up to the line. It was like he was doing the same thing I was; sizing everyone else up. I put it in the back of my mind to be mindful of him.

"Okay," Jones said once we were all in line, "this is our group. Whenever I, or someone else, tells you to line up, this is the placing. So, look to your right and left, and remember that." We did. Mine was easy; all the way to the right. "Also, when you're told to line up, always do it with your heads up, shoulders straight, feet shoulder-width apart, and hands behind your back. If you don't do it that way, you'll receive a demerit."

"What's a demerit?" Someone asked.

"I will explain merits and demerits later, James," Jones told him. "Right now, though, just know that you want as few demerits as possible.

"Now, when I tell you to turn and follow me, I expect you to turn in the direction I'm facing at the time and file out; single-file. One of those demerits will be given if you get out of line, so don't." He turned to his left, our right, and told us to follow him. And, like the good little automatons we were becoming, we did.

"From here, you have to go through a physical with the doctor and the rest of your in-processing," he told us as we left the room. Jones led us down another hallway to a door. On the door was a person's name; Dr. Wells.

"All of you are to stand against this wall until called into the office."

I was wondering if he was going to leave us to our own vices, but I suppose he knew boys way too well, and didn't. It was something I wondered about, though. He knocked on the door a second later, and when it opened, a boy a little older than me opened it.

I was shocked, but it wasn't because another kid was there; it was because of the way he was dressed. Or not dressed, rather. All he was wearing was a dog's collar and a thin smile. No hair was on his head, or anywhere else for that matter. He had the bluest eyes, I'd ever seen, too. I looked him up and down a little to see the rest of him. His dick was shriveled up to less than an inch [2½ cm] long, and no testicles that I could see. I gulped, thinking that this was what they had in mind for all of us, not that I cared about the rest of them, but I did like my own jewels just the way they were.

"Go on inside, Seth, and do as the doctor tells you," Jones told me.

"Is he going to do that to me?" I asked, pointing to the kid's genitalia.

"No, she is not. You'll find out when you get in there. Now, go, or get a demerit."

I still didn't know what a demerit was, but by Jones's tone and warning, I was sure that I didn't want one. The kid backed away from the door and I walked inside, still staring at him in shock/horror. The female doctor was sitting at the desk and turned when the door was closed.

"Name, boy?" she asked. I was assuming she was talking to me, as she probably knew the other kid's name. If he even had one.

"Seth Addams," I answered, still looking at the naked near-eunuch next to me.

"Never mind my boy, Seth, just pay attention to me," she said with significant authority.

I finally pealed my eyes away from the other kid to look at her. She nodded her approval to me. I tried smiling back, but failed.

"Age?"

"I turned eight this past January." She wrote down the information, then turned back to me.

"Now, take off your clothes and give them to him," she said simply, as if she has said this every day of her life. Meanwhile, I was stunned.

"All of them?"

"Yes, all of them," she said, smirking. "Now, do as I tell you, or I'll have Agent Jones come in here and strip you himself."

I shook my head, no, and began removing my shoes. They were nasty, dirty shoes, as well as my socks, but they were my only ones. I kicked out of each and then handed them to the older kid. I tried to just concentrate on what I was doing, and not him again. My shirt came next, baring my chest and torso to the room. I took a deep breath and undid my jeans, slowly pealing them down my legs. I stood up, looking at her after handing them to the boy.

"Those too," she said, pointing to my underpants.

I thought about arguing, but decided against it. Warily, I hooked my thumbs inside the waistband and lowered them down my legs. After handing them to the equally naked kid next to me, I covered my own bare groin.

"Oh, don't be so bashful, Seth. I am a doctor, and I've seen plenty of youths in my day." She seemed pleasant, but had a look of dominance about her. "Now, put your hands behind your back, as you've been taught, and step up on the scale."

Her boy had disappeared with my clothes during that little speech. I turned back to look at her after he was gone.

"Don't worry about your clothes. You won't need them anymore."

"What?!"

"Watch your tone of voice, boy!" she growled. I shut up, thinking that it wouldn't be a good idea to piss her off. I nodded shyly back to her and she lightened up a little. "You don't need to worry about clothes. I know Agent Jones hasn't told you yet, but you won't be needing them from here on."

"No clothes?"

What kind of training was this? I thought to myself.

"Nope," she said with a slight smile. "Now, please get up on the scale, as I asked you." The pleasant manner tried to hide that this wasn't a request, and I figured that.

So, I stepped up on the scale and placed my hands behind my back. For some reason or other, my dick got as hard as a rock. Embarrassment flushed my face as I knew she could see the damn thing sticking straight out. But, to her credit, she didn't say a word.

Her 'boy' walked back inside and took a clipboard from her desk. She stood, pulled on a rubber glove and walked over to me and the scale. She manipulated the scales and began dictating things to him and walking around me, inspecting me.

"Height; 49 inches [1.24 m]. Weight; 55 lbs. [25 kg]. Hair; dark blond, wavy. Eyes; hazel. No freckles. Scar on back-right shoulder blade. Scar on right foot. Bone structure; good." From there, she grabbed my dick, now deflated, and pulled it out with a ruler next to it. Embarrassment re-flooded through me; no one else had ever touched that thing before. "Penis; 2¾ inches [7 cm]." Wasn't sure how to take that, but she plugged onward with my nuts next. "Testicles; normal." Thankfully.

"Butt; cute," she said from behind me. The boy scribbled something on the paper. I turned to look at her and she was smiling at me again. "Scratch that last one." She then turned her attentions back to me as the kid scratched out what he'd wrote.

"Well, you're fairly normal, Seth," she said, giving me a nice smile.

"Can I get dressed, now?" I asked, trying to cover my embarrassment a little.

"No, and don't ask again," she answered, smile disappearing. "Agent Jones will explain everything to you later." I nodded and sighed. "Now, hop up on the table."

I moved towards the table and sat down. She checked my reflexes, relaying the results to the kid, and then other parts of my body. Teeth were examined, along with eyes, nose, throat, and ears. All were present and accounted for.

She went to a tray and took a needle. She filled it from a vial of clear liquid and then turned back to me. I moved away from both her and that needle.

"What's that?"

"A shot. You'll get one every other week."

"Yeah, I can see that. What's in it?"

"Vitamins."

"Can't I just take a vitamin pill?"

"Oh, just be quiet and show me how brave you are." With that, she grabbed my left arm and stuck the thing into the meat of my shoulder. It hurt, of course, but wasn't too bad. "Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Horrible," I countered. She smirked back.

"Now, I need you to climb up on this fully and get on your hands and knees."

I was about to question her, but decided against it. So, I moved my legs around to kneel on the table. A minute later, a cool, slick feeling went between my buttcheeks. I turned around just in time to see her middle finger begin to push inside my anal cavity.

"Whoa, wait; what're you doing?" I asked quickly, trying to move away from her invading finger. She quickly grabbed my back right at the curve of the spine and pushed hard inside me. "AAaagh!"

"Oh, stop being a baby, Seth," she scolded. I settled down a little once her finger had made it all the way inside. "As to what I'm doing; I'm checking your prostate gland."

I felt her finger work itself around my insides for a few seconds. She then told her boy that everything was in working order, and then her finger was removed. That was humiliating, but what came next was just as bad.

She brought over a pole on wheels with a solution in a bag hanging from the top. She walked up beside me and began pushing the open end of the tube into my butt. She forced my legs open wider as I knelt there, in utter embarrassment again, trying to get something even larger to fit inside my rectum. I grunted out in pain as whatever it was, was finally pushed into it. A moment later, I felt liquid begin to fill the space that was usually held in reserve for something my body wanted to get rid of.

"Don't move until I tell you to. This is an enema, Seth. It'll cleanse out your insides." I certainly didn't like the sound of that, but I nodded, nonetheless. I didn't think my insides needed cleansing.

"NEXT," she said to the door.

More humiliation hit me as Alex walked inside and saw me naked, on all-fours on a table, and with a tube stuck up my butt. He froze as he saw me.

"Never mind him, boy," she scolded.

Alex turned and saw her 'boy' and froze again. It was almost comical. He was probably thinking the same thing I was earlier.

"And don't mind him either," she repeated as she resumed her place at the desk. "Now, what's your name?"

"Alex Branson," he answered, still perplexed at all that he'd seen. She wrote down his name on the piece of paper as she'd done with me a few minutes ago.

"Age?"

"Eight."

"Alright, Alex, I need you to strip off your clothes and hand them to my boy," she said just like before to me. It was like a routine with her; nothing out of the ordinary.

Alex gulped, but began doing as she said. I think Agent Jones must have put some fear into them in the hallway while I was going through my inspection in here. Once he was nude, her eunuch left with the clothes, but was back in a flash. The doctor had Alex step up on the scales while the boy was gone.

"Height; 50 inches [1.27 m] Weight; 54 lbs. [24½ kg] Hair; dark blond, straight. Eyes; green. No freckles." She took some time, but found no scars on his body. "Brown birthmark on left buttock. Bone structure; good." Just like with me, she measured his dick. "Penis; 3 inches [7½ cm]. Testicles; normal."

By the time she finished all of that with Alex, I was beginning to hurt. The liquid she'd been pumping into my intestines had made its way through a lot of me. I felt the skin on my tummy begin to stretch and distend downward. I looked pregnant. As I was about to complain about my predicament, she walked over to me.

"As I pull the plug out, do not lose a single drop, Seth," she warned. I figured not to disobey her, but this was going to be difficult. I nodded and she began pulling on the plug. I closed my eyes to this particular humiliation as well, especially with Alex there, and with some undue pain, the plug popped out of my anus. The tube followed right behind and I was left with a significant amount of liquid inside me.

"Get down and hold it for as long as you can," she said.

I nodded and Alex took my place on the table. She did the same with him that she did with me; reflexes, eyes, nose, teeth, throat, and ears. Then his vitamin shot came. He put up less of a fuss about it than I did. By the time Alex had to assume the 'doggy' position, I was in some serious pain from the cramps, and there was no way I could hold it any longer. I told her so, too.

"Go on through that door," she told me, pointing to the door behind me.

I ran as dignified as I could through it and to the toilet provided. With a great deal of relief, I released the contents into the bowl. I sat there for a long time trying to rid myself of all of it while I heard Alex on the receiving end of the prostate exam. For me, though, it was painful, degrading, and loud, but I finally accomplished it. By this time, Leon was in the room going through his inspection and Alex was the recipient of the liquid enema.

When finished, I wiped up and walked back into the doctor's office. She told me to go wait in the hall with Agent Jones. I nodded and left. Once outside, I saw the others, but more importantly, they saw me and snickered.

"Laugh, you idiots; you're next," I retorted. That shut them up in a hurry. Jones sort of snorted, but said nothing to me other than to stand next to the wall further along it. Alex joined me a few minutes later.

"You okay?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he said, nodding. He didn't seem any more enthusiastic about this than I did.

We waited and the others filed into the room and back out again, significantly more subdued. The only one that it didn't seem to bother was Jeff Yung. He may have been the smallest of us, but I never let that guide my judgments of him. Finally, we were all inspected and cleaned out.

Jones had us follow him again. As we walked, it seemed that only James, Leon, and Jeff were unbothered by being naked. The rest of us tried to cover our exposed groins as we walked. But, once we got to the room Jones was leading us to, we had to place our hands behind our backs.

This room was small with a small shower at one end and a table at the other end. On the table was a set of clippers used for cutting hair, and some strange looking leather collars. They were similar to the one that the doctor's boy was wearing. A quick glance and I could tally them up to twelve; no real stretch of imagination to guess who would be wearing them. We were lined up against one wall, and facing us was ourselves; the whole wall on the other side was covered with a mirror.

"Seth, I need you to quickly step into the shower and get wet," he said and I nodded.

The water was cool, but not cold. I stepped in and out quickly and walked up to Agent Jones. He had me face the mirror and place my hands behind my back again. A click followed by a hum told me the clippers were turned on. He brought them to my forehead and without further preamble, began to shave my head of all its hair.

"Oh my god," I heard from behind me.

"No comments are needed, boys," Jones said, quieting any other noise.

I was stunned into inaction. I just couldn't believe that I was losing every bit of hair I had in the world. Buzz after buzz flew over my head, causing all of my wavy hair to cascade down my body. For some reason or other, I began crying. I couldn't say why it was happening, but it just was.

"It'll grow back, Seth," Jones said as he saw the tears run down my cheeks. I couldn't say anything, so I just nodded barely.

When he was done, I had hair that was less than a quarter inch [5 mm] long on my head. But, he wasn't finished. He grabbed a can of shaving cream and put some in his hand. From there it went all over my head. A regular shaving razor was used to remove whatever the clippers had left behind.

"Get into the shower, Alex," he said as he was finishing up with me.

As the last vestiges of my hair was gone, he took a towel and removed the excess cream from my bald head. I looked like a cancer patient, but with eyebrows. He went to the table and returned with a collar. It went around my neck, and was fairly snug, but had a little slack to it. On the front of it was a number '1'. Jones told me to resume my place with the others and Alex took my place.

As I walked back over, I didn't bother raising my head to look at the others. Shame and humiliation had flooded over me; I was totally bald. I felt exposed and now truly naked. I resumed my place at the left of the line, but wasn't going to look up. I didn't look up again until after James took his place at Jones's side.

"Just a trim around the ears, please," he said with a certain smugness.

"Very funny, James," Jones told him. Once again, though, it didn't bother him. He was shaved and returned to the fold, still as brash as ever.

Jeff was a little shaken, though. I guess he was human after all. But, during the time of James's shave and to Jeff's, I kept looking at myself in the mirror. I was hoping that Jones was correct; that it would grow back. I think Alex had the same thoughts going through his mind. As the one called Remington was getting his done, I saw that he also had a birthmark, but it was on his bottom right rib. Other than James, none of the rest of us spoke the whole time we were there. Losing the one thing that sort of made us who we were at the time humbled all of us.

"Now that you're all presentable," he said, starting off. I thought the notion was debatable. "I want to introduce you to your collars."

"Our collars?" Bull asked from way down the line.

"Yes, Edward," he said simply.

From the table, he picked up a remote control. With a simple pushing of one button, pain erupted along my neck where the collar was touching. All of us screamed and were brought to our knees. I tried grabbing the collar, to lift it from my neck, but it shocked my hands and worse where it touched more of my neck's skin from me pulling on it. I tried to get it off me, but it was locked on. The pain was excruciating and seemed to go on for ever, but stopped eventually.

"Back into formation, boys," Jones said, with a certain amount of sadistic pleasure.

Achingly, I stood back up and Jones waited until all of us were standing before continuing.

"That was only about thirty seconds or so and on the lowest setting of 'one'. There are ten settings, with each of them getting more painful as it goes upward.

"With this control, I can use it to affect all of you, or just one. Each of your instructors will have similar controls. Don't give us cause to use them and we won't, but we will if we have to. Also, there is a tower that will emit a pulse so powerful that will make you unconscious if you try to run."

"This is not what I signed up for, though," Bull said, stubbornly.

Jones punched the buttons on the remote, sending Bull to his knees in pain and agony. He screamed and clawed at the collar, trying to get it off him, but whatever he tried was useless. We watched in horror and awe as he writhed around on the ground for over a minute before Jones hit another button to make it stop.

I made up my mind right then and there never to have this collar shock me ever again. I didn't need any more convincing than what I had just seen.

"Get up, Edward, and back in line," Jones said coldly. Bull didn't move. "Unless you want another shock at the next level…" Bull was up and standing back against the wall.

Jones made his way over to him to look him in the face.

"You will learn soon enough not to get an attitude with me, boy," he told him. "Two demerits for the lesson."

Jones turned to move away from him. He had us turn and follow him back out the door, so I was now last in line. We walked down the halls, embarrassingly, as some people that were there came out to see a dozen totally hairless preteens. I wondered if this was normal. The hall he led us down ended at a simple door. He opened it, and we filed through. Once inside the area, he let us break from the single file to look at it.

All of us were shocked; it was a dorm. Sort of. To the right and left of us were six 'rooms'. They were only chest-high on us and made of cinderblocks. The doors leading to them were heavy metal doors with a number on the front and a pin and lock to lock it into place. To open the door, all someone had to do was remove the pin and the door opened. But the tops of the rooms were made of wire mesh.

"These," Jones stated flatly, "are your living quarters. As you can see, there is a number on the doors of your cages, they correspond to the numbers on your collars. That is where you'll be sleeping."

He led us past them and into a small area with a television, a set of bookcases, sofas, table and things of relaxing nature.

"In here is your common area. You'll be able to have some leisure time to yourselves where you can watch television, play games, study, relax." He then motioned to his right, our left. There was an entrance to another room, but without a door. "In there are the showers and toilets."

He turned again, but this time to his left and walked. We followed again. Here was a cafeteria; self-explanatory. Again, we filed along behind him as he showed us yet another room. It was an open room with a soft floor and other doors around it.

"This is your main workout room. From here, you'll see there are some other doors; they lead to different rooms." He showed us two doors at the far end. "Those two are the punishment rooms; I'll explain those in a moment." We were stunned again, but he continued around the room, uninterrupted. "That one goes to a weight room, then the swimming pool. The one next to that is a firing range and the one next to that is your classroom. The last one leads outside to an outdoors training area.

"Now, I know you have questions. This is the time to ask them. But, let me warn you first; be respectful. And second, I will not answer a question if I am not ready. If so, don't ask again, or you'll receive a demerit."

"What're these demerits?" James asked quickly.

"Good question. Every week you will be competing against your fellow trainees for points. Merits give you points and demerits remove points. At the end of the week, the points are added up. There will be two winners and two losers. The two losers will spend a certain amount of time in the punishment room. The two winners will be rewarded.

"And I don't know if you saw it or not, but there is a board in your common room with your collar numbers on it. That is there to show you the score throughout the week."

"What's in the punishment room?"

"Instruments of punishment, Scott," Jones answered.

"Like what?"

"I'll let you find out when you go in there."

"Don't you mean 'IF' we go in there?" James asked, but he wasn't being disrespectful. It was almost whimsical.

"Oh, trust me, James, all of you will be spending some time in there sooner or later," Jones came back with, with a certain amount of smugness.

"What're the rewards?" Ben asked.

"Second place gets a choice; six candy bars, that he may do whatever he wishes with, or an article of clothing. First place gets either twelve bars or six and a piece of clothing, but never two pieces of clothing."

"So, we have to earn our clothes?" James again.

"Yes, but you can only wear them on your own leisure time. You won't be able to wear them during training times. Also, if you do ever go to the punishment room, you'll lose a piece of clothing if you have one, but only if you have one. Also, each time that you go into there, the punishments will get worse."

"What are we going to be doing?" Leon asked.

"Training. You'll see what it is as it goes."

He told us that our schedule was a simple one. We would wake up at six and have breakfast shortly after. Our classes began in the classroom at seven and they go until eleven, with a break at nine. Lunch would be given to us at eleven. Language studies from twelve till one. From one o'clock till six, was training in different areas; weights, self-defense, weapons, tactics, and different specialized fields. Supper was at six and then our own leisure time from then till nine. Showers and personal hygiene were to be done and then in our cages by half past when the lights were turned out.

"But, tonight something different will be done," he said in finality.

"How so?" James again. I was liking him less and less; always the one with the mouth.

"Tonight, only half of you will eat dinner," he said to all of us.

"Why?" Bull, this time.

"Because you're going to fight for it," he answered easily. "Does anyone know what a melee is?" He looked around at all of us, but we all shook our heads, no. "It's a fight. Everyone against everyone." All of us looked at each other. Only James and Bull were smiling.

"The ones that give up first will not be eating," he said to a stunned crowd. "The lowest three will be given three demerits each, and the next three will be given two. And none of you will eat.

"The next three will be given one demerit, but will eat. Third place will get nothing but food; no merits, no demerits. Second place, one merit, and last man standing will get two merits. Also, if you give up too quickly, an added demerit will be tacked on.

"One last thing," he said to us, giving us one of his most serious looks. He had me walk up to him and turn to face the others. I hate being put on display. "If ANY of you grab someone's collar, EVER, you will be given ten demerits and spend an extra night in the punishment room." He reached up and grabbed my collar by the back of it. I was almost choking by the lessened room I had to breathe now. "From this position I can break Seth's neck. It may kill him, or have him paralyzed from the neck down for the rest of his life. That is why no one is to grab a collar.

"No one ever grabs another one's collar. I can't stress that enough. I know you're going to have disagreements and probably some fights amongst yourselves, but the collars are totally off limits. Do you understand?"

Everyone nodded, but he wasn't satisfied until everyone voiced their understanding. He had me return to the group.

"Now, with that, does anyone have any questions about the melee?"

"How do we get someone to quit?" Scott asked. Now there was a stupid question, I thought.

"Punch, kick, bite, pinch; I don't care. Excluding grabbing of a collar, and doing serious harm to someone, like poking out an eye, anything's legal."

I couldn't believe an adult was actually encouraging us to fight. But, I didn't have any time to mull it over.

"GO!"

That was all it took. I saw Bull turn and punch Simon as hard as he could. The poor kid didn't stand a chance; he hit the ground with blood gushing from his nose. But, after that, I didn't know what happened to him. I had my own problems. Alex, whom I thought I was getting along with, swung at me. Thankfully, his aim was off, and he only gave me a glancing blow off my ear. I ducked and swung upwards to his stomach.

This was the one time I was thankful for being bald; no one was going to be grabbing me by my hair. One of the other kids at the orphanage gave me a 'swirlie' once. Now, it was impossible to be done. All I had to do was keep fighting and not worry about my hair.

When Alex had bowled over from my connection to his stomach, I used the back of my head to nail his chin. He landed on the ground, holding his face. I didn't stop. I punched his jaw until he screamed that he was done. I was about to go find another opponent when one found me; Scott. He ran into me with his bulk, sending me to the mat. I felt my side get scraped along the fabric, but concentrated on getting his fat stomach off me. I didn't have to worry about it long, as James kicked him hard in the face as he was working on me.

Not to let the opportunity slip by, I rolled away to come face to face with Ben. I wasn't prepared to fight anyone yet, so I got a fist to my jaw for my lack of preparation. And he didn't stop there. One more got me in the side. As I went down, I saw he'd left his nuts unprotected. If there was one thing I'd learned in the orphanage, it was to protect your jewels. I side-kicked right into his, sending him to the floor, screaming. I swung the other foot around to kick him in the face and he gave up.

As I got to my feet, I saw that along with Alex and Ben, Scott, Simon, Jeff, and Remmie were all down. James and Leon were going up against Bull while Philip was in a head-lock given by Mike. I had to make a choice. Bull was the one that was the biggest threat, now. I walked calmly over behind him and smirked. I hoped that the other two saw what I was doing. I just sat down a little bit behind and got onto all-fours. James saw it and kicked him in the stomach. Bull fell backwards over me, landing hard on his back, but it wasn't enough to have him quit. He needed added incentive. One punch to his nuts had him squealing like a schoolgirl. One more had him giving up.

I turned to see who would be next, only to get a fist to my left ear. But this one was flat on to the side of my head and it hurt. When I rolled over, I saw James standing there, having dispatched Leon with a sucker punch, following his kick to Bull. I moved to kick his legs out from under him, but he sidestepped it. While his concentration was on me, Mike came up behind him with a punch to his kidney.

He screamed, leaving me an opening to do what I wanted before; kick his legs out from under him. He hit the ground and Mike nailed him hard enough for him to quit. I was about to close in for the kill, thinking that I had this victory in hand, but Mike was way ahead of me and swung around with a punch to my face. I never saw it coming. I felt myself almost flying backwards, reeling from the punch.

I wasn't going to give up, though. As Mike closed in, I turned over to try and get at him, but he didn't let up. I got a kick to the mid-riff for my troubles. I rolled away and got another as I tried to stand. I tried again, and got one to my nuts.

"I give," I cried, holding my precious jewels. They may not have been much, but they were the only things my parents left me that I could pass on.

"I WIN!" Mike screamed, but had a bit of blood coming from his own nose.

"Not yet," came an unfamiliar voice.

Everyone looked towards Jeff. It was then that I really noticed him; he wasn't hurt. Even Simon, who was the first one out, at least had a broken nose. Jeff was fine.

"He sat down," I said to Mike.

"Why that little son of a bitch," he exclaimed.

I knew it; the little prick was smart. I'd have to give him that much for thinking. While the rest of us were quarreling with each other, he survived till the end by doing nothing. I felt a little cheated, but also impressed. I was at the very least not going to get any demerits from this, and a meal. I moved over to sit with the others that had been eliminated. I remember James was sitting to my immediate left.

"Hope Mike wins," James said. "You?"

"Mike," I said simply. Both of us were rooting for him, but I wasn't so sure he would win. Mike was smart and tough, but he'd been hit several times. His eye was beginning to swell, and his nose was still bleeding.

Jeff moved around towards his blind side, but Mike didn't fall for that; he kept the kid in plain sight. Jeff feigned to Mike's right, causing him to over-commit, and then moved back with a kick to Mike's stomach.

"Oh, shit," James said, echoing my own concerns.

Mike tried to retaliate, but was clumsy from fatigue and taking a few punches. Jeff dodged out of the way easily and came back with a punch to the boy's jaw. He spun around, nailing Mike straight in the mouth. With all the momentum build up, it sent our champion to the floor with a busted lip. Jeff sat down on top of him and began wailing on his face with punch after punch.

"I think he's had enough, Jeffery," Jones said, calling an end to the melee.

Jeff climbed off him and simply walked away; totally devoid of any marks.

"Well, Jeff is our winner, with Michael in second, and Seth in third. James, Edward, and Leon are the next three, and the last to qualify to eat. All the rest of you will not be eating tonight, with Philip, Remington, and Scott getting two demerits. Alex, you and Ben will get three demerits and Simon will receive four."

Bolstered by a mediocre success, I was feeling pretty good about myself. My first day and, although I'd been stripped naked and lost every strand of hair I ever had, several others were in worse shape than I was. I had a few marks, but I'd taken worse at the orphanage. Both Mike and Simon had to get their noses put back in place before going to bed. Others had some bruises and welts, but even through it all, I was sitting fairly nice.

In points, Simon was dead last. Jeff was first, of course, followed by Mike and then me. The others trickled on down from there.

Jeff, Mike, James, Bull, Leon and I made our way to the cafeteria, while the others headed to the common area. The meal was simple hamburgers, fries, and a soda. James, Leon and I made a small group where we started talking.

I found out that James was nine, about to turn ten soon, and from a small town in Arkansas. His father shot his mother and then himself when James was five. From there, he lived with his mother's parents until they couldn't take care of him any longer.

"A guy came to the farm a week ago and asked if I wanted to do something with my life," he said. "I told him that I did. He talked it over with my grandparents and here I am."

Leon shared his story that he was also nine, but from Chicago. Both of his parents were drug dealers and not very good at being careful. The police got them a few years ago.

"They took them away, and I ain't seen them since," he said with a somber look.

"Do you want to?" James asked.

Leon looked like he was going to say something, but stopped. He then shrugged his shoulders and remained quiet about it.

"I wonder if we're all orphans or something like that," I said out loud.

"Good question," James stated.

I looked at the other three that was in the room with us. Jeff was off by himself, not caring about talking with anyone. But, he was also watching everyone, too. Mike and Bull were sitting at the same table, but Bull was too pissed off at losing that he didn't want to talk to anyone and Mike seemed okay with that. I supposed that he was too sore to talk, too.

We finished our meal and walked into the common area. No one was talking to anyone. Every one of them was sulking in some form or fashion at losing the melee.

"Man, that was a good dinner," James said a little too loudly. I put some distance between the two of us real quick. The others had murderous looks on their faces. The only one of the losers that didn't was Simon.

"You okay?" I asked Alex as I walked up to him. He just shrugged back. "I'm sorry I did that, but I had to." He shrugged again, but did nothing else, so I gave up on it.

The thing that kind of struck at me, as I was walking away from him, was that all twelve of us were now used to being naked. Not one of us was trying to hide our privates any more. I wondered if that was the whole point of the melee to begin with.

We watched some cartoons that James picked, and just about nine o'clock, Agent Jones came into the room.

"Okay everyone, head to the bathroom, brush your teeth, and then get back out here for bed."

We did as we were told and I noticed that Leon didn't really know what to do with the toothbrush or paste. I took mine and showed him how to use them. He nodded and smiled his thanks. We were brushed and then ready for bed in about ten minutes. I felt kind of strange to be going to bed naked and without a single strand of hair, but I thought I could do it.

When we walked back out, the doors to the cages were opened with Jones standing at the end of the row. Remembering what he said earlier about the numbers on our collars going with those numbers, we headed to our respective places. I walked up to the cage with the number 'one' on it and slipped inside. I had to duck my head to get inside and keep it down. There was only about three or four inches [7-10 cm] on the right side of the bed to walk. The bed itself stretched the length of the cage. The whole thing was for one purpose; for us to sleep in and keep us there.

Once I was on the bed, I was able to see upward through the wire mesh that covered the top. Jones closed and locked my door first and then moved on. After he was gone to lock the others in their cages, I used my hands and feet to see if the wire mesh would move. It did, but only a smidgen. That told me that it could be opened at any time. I didn't like that idea.

"Good night, boys," Jones said to us after locking Jeff into his cage across the row from me. Only a few answered back to him. The lights were then doused.

"Well, this was certainly fun," James announced to the quiet room after Jones was gone.

"Shove it, James," Bull barked at him.

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. I heard something that sounded like crying coming from across the aisle. It sounded like it was coming from Simon's cage. I grabbed my sheet and rolled over.

"Are you crying?" Bull taunted him.

"No," he said, but sniffed.

"Leave him alone, Edward," James growled.

"Only faggots call me 'Edward'," he growled back.

"So, you're calling Mr. Jones a faggot?"

No answer.

"Edward. Eddie. Edwardo."

"Edweirdo," someone said and all of us laughed. I thought it came from my side of the aisle, but at the farthest end.

"Shut up, before I punch your lights out," he threatened.

"Now, there's a trick I'd like to see, Edweirdo," I taunted.

"No kidding; me too," Leon chimed in. "Edweirdo."

Then some chants of "Ed-weird-o" began. He hit the roof of his cage in frustration at us and we laughed all the more.

"Guys, we'd better stop," Mike suggested.

"Why?" James asked.

"Because I am starting to smell his brains cooking from over here," he answered back, sending all of us back into fits of laughter.

"He ain't got any brains," Leon spouted off.

"AAGGHHH!!!" Bull shouted and hit the bars at the top again. "Just you wait till tomorrow, punk."

"Yeah, I'm worried," James said, almost yawning. "Good night, Edweirdo."

More guffaws from the rest of us. What I found strange was that no one came into the room to stop us. Jones, nor the doctor, nor anyone else was there. I wondered if they'd all left for the day. I kept my thoughts to myself.

We all settled down after a while and began to nod off for the night. Soon, I was being woken up by a loud, shrill whistle. I was so startled, I sat up too fast and hit my head on the top of the cage.

"OWWW!" As I held my head in my hands, I heard other cries of the same from others in the room.

It took a second or two to remember where I was. Feeling my bald head reminded me of it all. I was in Virginia, going through some training, totally, stark naked and hairless, with eleven other boys my age.

Yeah, right, now I remember.

This whole situation was going to take some getting used to.

"As I open the doors to your cages, come out and stand next to them with your arms behind your backs." The voice was unfamiliar to me.

The door was opened and I crawled out of the small space to the ice-cold floor. The man walking around the room was a little shorter than Jones with white hair. I stood there, shivering a little from the cold floor as I watched him circle. Alex joined me a few seconds later and also began shivering a little.

"Good morning, boys," he said with a certain look on his face that I didn't really like. He looked like a cat that finally caught and ate the family canary. "Let's get some food in your stomachs and then some knowledge in your brains, shall we?"

Oh, jeeze. Way too chipper for my tastes.

He led the way into the cafeteria and we went by the serving line. The cook seemed as happy as possible this morning as he was the previous evening when we ate. He must like looking at hairless boys.

"This is it?" Scott asked, looking at his meal.

"That's it, Chubby," the likewise overweight cook told him.

Bull also complained that it wasn't enough to feed him fully, but got the same rebuff from the cook.

Like the previous night, James, Leon and I sat together, but Simon sat at our table, also. He didn't join in on our conversation, but sat there anyway. Bull was still by himself with Scott sitting across from him. Jeff sat at the same table with them, but as far away as possible. The others divided themselves up as they wished.

We ate in silence, but I could tell that Bull was eyeing James with a glare that meant business. I was sure that he was just waiting for the man to leave to enact his vengeance for the previous night. He didn't get the chance. When we were done, the new man had us go back inside and brush our teeth; it was something that had to be done after every meal, apparently.

"I am your teacher, boys," he told us upon entry into the general room we were in the night before. "Follow me into the classroom, please."

Again, it wasn't a request. From that main room, it was the door almost directly across the room from the door we'd just entered by. He led us through it to a room with twelve metal desks in it. The individual chairs were bolted to the floor as were the desks in front of them. Each chair had a number to it from one to twelve. Of course, number one was all the way up front and to the left. Also, on each desk was a laptop computer.

But the strangest thing about these desks was that there was a black dowel sticking up about four inches [10 cm] in the middle of the seat. That was the one thing alone that was keeping each of us from taking our seats.

"What're these for?" our mouthpiece asked the teacher.

"Those go inside your rectums," he said with a smile.

Every one of us backed away from the desks.

"Either sit down on them or I will make you do it," he threatened, holding up a remote control.

All twelve of us looked at each other, wondering the same thing; which of us was going to do it first. The answer came in the form of Jeff. Not bothered by the fact that we were watching him, he moved to his desk, grabbed the rod with one hand and smoothly sat down on it. He grimaced for a split second as the rod pierced his anal door, but otherwise made no other indication that anything was different.

With that success, the rest of us were a little more bold, but a few were still resistant to having something like a rod stuffed up our butts. Even though the rod took up a great deal of space, there was still plenty of room to slip under the small table and lower my body down on top of the rod. It was just the idea that bothered me. An enema was one thing, but having a black rod shoved up there was something else entirely.

I heard a grunt behind me and turning, I saw Mike lower himself down onto the rod. Taking a breath, I followed suit. Being careful, I put my butt right on top of the invader. I tried to gently move it to where it would go inside, but it wasn't going as gently as I was trying to make it.

"Either go down on it, Seth, or I will push you down, myself," a voice said to me only a few inches away.

I was so startled by it, I reared back from it. And with that, I lost my grip, and plunged down on the rod. I grimaced at the pain of its initial intrusion. A few seconds later, I heard some of the others do the same thing. Grunts filled the room as rods speared several preteen holes.

The teacher walked around to each of us, making sure we were actually sitting on the stupid thing.

"Sit down, fat boy, or I'll force you to do it," he growled. I turned around, without moving my butt, to see the teacher in Scott's face.

"But, I don't want something up my butt," Scott whined.

The teacher touched two buttons on the control, sending Scott into a fit of blubbering screams. His fat rolled around as he thrashed in pain at the shock. It lasted less than a minute, but it got the point across; sit or scream. Scott got off the floor and, after a moment's hesitation, sat his big butt down on the rod. He groaned at it just like the rest of us.

After the teacher was satisfied that we were all down on the rods properly, he made his way to his desk. With one push of a button on the desk, the rod moved further inside me and then became incredibly large, filling up my anal cavity. It was like a large balloon was blown up inside there. All twelve of us squealed in surprise at it. I tried to get off the rod, but it was now too large to be pulled out of my hole. I realized that we were all stuck, now.

"Now that I have your complete attention, allow me to introduce myself properly," he began as he sat on the edge of his desk. "I am Mr. Collins. In my class, you will learn the basics; math, English, science, history, social sciences, languages, and computer sciences. Now, that may seem like a lot, but you'll get to know everything soon enough.

"Under the tables of the desks are the books you're going to need. Find and remove your mathematics books, please."

Squirming around, trying to make that thing in my butt more comfortable, I found the book with the numbers on it. From there, Mr. Collins began discussing math. It was the summer and I was learning math again. With an inflated tube stuck up my butt. If there was a god somewhere, he/she was hating me.

As he began teaching math, I began to notice the balloon in my butt less and less. Soon, even though I knew it was still there, I didn't really pay it any mind. Math lasted all of about an hour. From there, it was English for another hour. Then the button on the desk was pushed again. The air in the buttplugs was let out and the rod descended a little, back to its original position. All of us gasped in relief.

"Okay, boys, get up and walk around for a bit. Go to the bathroom, if you need to."

I slipped off the rod and out of the chair to my right. Alex, through some small bruises on his face, looked back at me. I simply nodded and followed the others out of the room. In the open workout room, I bent over and stretched, touching my toes. It felt good to do that. As the others left the room, I looked at the mirror against the wall to my left.

My image was one of a bald boy with some bruises in different places on his body. For the first time, I ran my hand along the skin of my scalp, feeling its baldness. Then, from there, I let my hands travel down my face and over my shoulders. They trekked downward still, over my torso, to rest at my side.

"Feel good?" Mr. Collins asked, suddenly at my left. Startled, I turned towards him, but backed away a little. "I didn't mean to scare you, Seth."

"You just startled me, Mr. Collins," I informed him.

"I see."

"Can I ask what we're doing here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, no one has told us what we're supposed to be learning or training for. All they've done is taken our clothes, shaved our heads, and forced us to fight each other."

"I can't tell you much more than you already know, but I can tell you this; if you look deeper, you'll see the big picture. You're smart, Seth, or you wouldn't be here."

"And Edward's here for what reason?"

"Edward has a different future than yours," he said laughing, obviously knowing what I was hinting at. "Some people are good for nothing but cannon fodder."

With that, he walked away from me. Shaking my head at the amount of information he didn't give me, I went and used the toilet before joining my classmates in the common area. We resumed our seats, rods in place, at the top of the hour for our science lesson. We had a small break in between science and history, but weren't allowed to get out of the desks, so I used the time to look up what 'cannon fodder' meant on the computer. Ten minutes later, history took over for another fifty minutes.

For some strange reason or other, I paid attention to the lessons. Back at that the orphanage, I didn't do well in school, but I began to do it here. Mr. Collins had explained to us that we will earn merits if we do well, but I found I was doing the studies without regard to the merits.

James, being the oldest of all of us, seemed to be doing the best in the school department as well. Bull had the worst time of all with the studies. The rest of us were sort of a mixed group, with some doing better at some subjects than others. I found I enjoyed, and did well at, math, science, and computer science. Alex struggled at those subjects, but excelled at history and our different social sciences.

After the morning studies were done, we got to eat lunch. Both Scott and Bull were complaining that they weren't getting enough to eat. The three of us sat together again, and Simon joined us as well, but remained silent. As we were sitting at the table talking, Bull walked over and grabbed the desert from Simon's tray.

"Give it back," James told him as he stood up. The room went dead silent.

"Make me," Bull answered.

James was about to try and do just that, but Simon spoke up.

"It's okay, James, I don't like pudding anyway."

James and Bull looked at each other for a few seconds more until James sat back down. Bull walked smugly away, eating Simon's pudding.

"Someone's going to have to teach Bull a lesson," Leon stated simply when the room began talking again. The three of us nodded at that notion.

"I volunteer," James offered.

We finished our meal and headed into the common area for some television and games. I sat down with Simon for a game of checkers. We each won two games before Mr. Collins came back to get us. Once we were back down on the rods and they were inflated in our rectal areas, he told us to open the laptops on the desk. When I opened mine, a disc started up in the drive and a picture of The Kremlin popped up.

"Put on the headphones that're plugged into the computers," he said.

I put mine on and someone speaking Russian came into my ears. The voice began teaching the language to me. That first week was the basics. For some reason or other, a few of the words seemed familiar to me. The lesson was only about twenty minutes long, but it repeated itself twice during the course of the hour. When the hour was up, I felt the plug inside me deflate.

Another man walked into the room and stood at the front of the class. He was tall, big, muscular, and had a thin beard that looked more like a five o'clock shadow on his face. He was dressed in black.

"I am Mr. Routhe. I am the weight trainer and self defense teacher. Line up next to the wall."

Simple enough. I took my place at the end next to the door heading back into the main workout area.

"Follow me," Mr. Routhe said as he walked by me.

I turned and followed him out of the classroom and into the central room. From there, we walked straight into the weight room. Once inside, he began telling us all about each of the pieces of equipment in the room and what they were for; bench press, incline, etc. He then showed us how to stretch properly before working out. From there, he had us using each of the pieces of equipment.

James, Bull and Jeff enjoyed the lesson. I was okay with it, and so were a few others, but Simon, Alex, and definitely Scott were totally against it. Anything having to do with physical exercise, Scott was not interested in.

An hour later, he began showing us some self-defense techniques. It was nothing like karate or judo, but simple things that a person can know and do to protect themselves from a would-be attacker.

An hour later, swimming was next. Mr. Davenport was our swimming instructor. He needed to teach the basics of swimming, as some of us, myself included, didn't know how to swim. All Scott did was sit in the pool and float like a bucket of lard. James was all over the place swimming; made me sick to think he can do anything. Jeff wasn't getting wet, though.

"What's the problem, number twelve?" Mr. Davenport asked as Jeff was standing by the side of the pool.

"Nothing," he said, but a look of fear was in his Oriental brown eyes.

"Then get into the pool."

"I… I can't," he said and backed away from the water.

So, he was scared of the water; interesting.

"One demerit, number twelve. Now get into the pool, or suffer." The instructor pulled out a remote from his pocket, pointing it threateningly at Jeff.

Jeff was wrestling with his fear of both things. Two seconds later had him writhing on the floor in pain. He tossed and turned in agony while all the rest of us could do was watch. Scott and Bull winced, remembering their experiences with that thing. Unconsciously, my hand gravitated towards my own collar as I watched Jeff squirm around on the floor. Davenport punched another button, causing Jeff to scream out in torment. Up to then, all he had done was writhe on the floor, now he was screaming.

"He's getting a hard-on," James whispered.

He wasn't referring to Davenport. Jeff's little dick was sticking straight out, even in the throws of agony.

"What does that mean?" I asked him.

"He enjoys it," he whispered back.

One more punch of the buttons and Jeff screamed even louder. Davenport had turned up the juice on the boy's collar again, sending even more powerful shocks of electricity through him.

"Could it be the electricity doing it?" Leon asked.

"Possibly, but you have to admit; there's something strange about that kid."

Both of us nodded at that.

Finally, Davenport punched a few buttons and turned off the collar. Jeff gasped in relief, lying still on the floor of the pool.

"Now get into the pool, or get a level four shock," Davenport threatened.

Achingly, Jeff nodded. Trying to hide his erection, Jeff crawled over and got to the edge of the pool. The fear was still very evident, but not wanting another round with the electricity of his collar, Jeff eased into the water.

Davenport moved into the water right after him and began showing us how to swim. He corrected each of us when we were doing something wrong, but mainly showed us the basics and let us work on it. Jeff swam, but never got his face wet. Davenport allowed him that for the time being, but I got the feeling that sooner or later, Jeff was going to have to swim properly.

Another two hours later, and we were done with that. We toweled off afterward and made our way back into the general room. We were pretty tired after two hours of a workout and another two hours swimming. But, Mr. Routhe met us in the room.

"Let's see what you've learned. Everyone pick an opponent."

Bull made right for Simon, of course. I wondered what it was that he had it in for the boy. Leon and James paired up; that was going to be an interesting match up. Philip and Mike partnered. Remmie and Ben paired. Jeff made a bee-line for Alex. I was left with Scott.

Wonderful.

"Okay, you'll be going against your partner and only your partner. Winners get a merit; losers get a demerit and no supper."

The advantage I had was that Scott was sorer than myself. After nine years of complacency, he was in no shape to do anything after a workout. I felt sorry for Simon, knowing that he was probably going to lose again. I was right. Once Mr. Routhe said the word, go, Bull flattened him to the ground inside a second with another punch to his face.

Scott was in no hurry to get into a fight. So, for a few seconds, we simply circled each other, gauging how to beat the other one. Before he and I even touched each other, Jeff had beaten Alex soundly. Scott made a move to hit me while I was distracted with the Jeff/Alex fight, but I dodged his fat fist easily. My fist connected with his blubber surrounding his stomach, but it did little damage to him.

"You ain't gonna beat me that way, Seth," he said. How very smart of him.

I came back with a kick to his knee and he went down. Another assault on his middle, but this time with a kick, had him groaning in pain. From there, I just launched myself on to him and kept punching and kicking wherever I could find flesh. He did land one lucky punch on my jaw, but I didn't let that stop me. I kneed him in the nuts right after his punch and he called out that he was quitting.

When all was said and done, Bull, Jeff, Remmie, Mike, Leon and I were the winners. Simon had to get his nose fixed again as the six of them headed for the common area and we headed for the cafeteria. I was feeling a little sorry for Alex, having to go without dinner for two days straight, but I had to lookout for myself. Simon was the one that I was more concerned for. He just didn't seem to be catching on with anything that was being taught.

The six of us ate dinner. Leon and I sat together again, but were accompanied by Remmie and Mike. Bull sat off to himself again, and the rest of us let him, and Jeff was at another table.

"Ah, that was a fantastic steak dinner," Mike announced upon entry of the common room. He was close; chicken fried steak and potatoes. But, it was James's goat that he was trying to get.

"Go screw yourself," James retorted, but had a smirk on his face.

James, Leon, Mike, Simon and I talked together for the rest of the night. I was a little concerned that James would hold a grudge with Leon for beating him, but he seemed okay with it.

"Someone had to win," he said, acknowledging it. "Just don't get used to it, Leon."

"We'll see," he answered back with a smirk.

"If you don't start learning to duck, you won't be able to breathe out of your nose, Simon," I told him.

"He's right," James agreed. "And it seems that Edweirdo has something against you."

"I've noticed that, too," I said, looking right at Simon for an answer. Simon didn't answer. I supposed that he was a little too embarrassed about it all to talk. Getting the hell beat out of a person can make them a little less sure of themselves.

We were in bed at our normal time of nine-thirty. And that was my first full day of training.

The next day was similar to the first one, with a few notable exceptions. One; the classes Mr. Collins taught were only Social Sciences of psychology, which went totally over my head, and computer science, which I totally excelled at. Two; we weren't pitted against each other to earn our meal, so everyone got something to eat. Three; a fight did break out, but it was an unscheduled one.

"Disappointed because you weren't able to pound on your favorite punching bag, Edweirdo?" James asked as we were walking into the common room.

Bull didn't wait for Mr. Routhe to leave; he just turned and swung at James. James didn't see it coming and took the hit right to his jaw. However big Bull was, James was tougher than he looked. One punch from another kid was not able to do him in. He got into a crouched position and rushed Bull from there. Then it was on; kicking, biting, and swinging of fists. Everyone but myself and Leon stood aside to watch.

At one point when Bull had kicked James in the stomach, I jumped in and kicked him in the head. But, I was nothing to him and he was able to hit back with no problems. I took one to the stomach and then Leon jumped in to deliver a punch to Bull's chest. Bull held his own until James kicked him hard between the legs.

"It took three of you to get me," he said through gasps. He was whipped, but had an evil look on his face. To him, this wasn't over; not by a long shot.

"Two demerits for all four of you," Mr. Routhe told us.

"I can't lose any more points," Bull complained as he climbed up onto the sofa.

"Then you should have thought of that before you punched James," the instructor answered.

"Did you hear what he called me, though?"

"Yes, I did." And that was the end of that.

My points weren't wonderful, but they weren't terrible, either. Simon was still in last place with Scott right above him. Bull was very close to him with only two points separating the two. I was somewhere in the middle.

That night, we forwent the previous night's fun of teasing Bull before conking out. All of us were tired from the day's events. But, it was that day that we began calling the punishment room simply by its initials; PR. It seemed less foreboding to us. It was James's idea, and it stuck.

The following day was the same schedule as Monday's. I noticed the pattern, now. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays we had four subjects, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays we had two, but twice as long. Language lessons were an hour every day. Weight training and self-defense were another hour each. Swimming lasted another two hours.

Throughout the week, I wondered about that last hour. That Monday was the one-on-one contests. Tuesday was nothing, so they fed us early. Wednesday was a swimming race where the winners got a merit and the losers got a demerit and went to bed hungry. Leon and I were partners for that one and were one of the winners, thanks mainly to him. Simon was saddled with Jeff as a partner in that, so he lost again, making it three for three in that department. Thursday was a free day again.

That Friday, two things stood out. One very important thing; we were all getting stubble on our heads. Our hair was indeed growing back; I breathed a little easier knowing that. Second; Friday was test day.

We were given tests over what we'd learned over the week. The tests were given on the screens of the laptops. They were also individual in nature. For instance, my test had different questions about different things on different numbers. My number one, for example, was a math question, but Alex's number one pertained to history. Not that cheating was a problem, as Mr. Collins had the remote control and seemed eager to use it should one of us get even the slightest notion of cheating. It was just the way the tests were going to be given.

We had ninety minutes to answer sixty questions. We took a break for another thirty minutes, and then back at it to answer another sixty in the next ninety minutes. What I did, was go through and answer the ones I knew, and then go back to the ones I had problems with. As it turned out, I was the third one through, behind James and Jeff. I used the same tactic with the second test as well, finishing behind the two of them again.

Lunch was given to us at its usual time. From there, it was the same afternoon routine as before. After swimming, though, we were led back into the classroom where Mr. Collins gave us our test grades.

"A one hundred scores three merits. Ninety to ninety-nine gets two. Eighty to eighty-nine gets one. Seventy to seventy-nine gets nothing. Sixty to sixty-nine gets one demerit. And anything below that gets two demerits."

He read off the scores. I earned two merits with two 'B's. James got two one hundreds, pissing all of us off, but getting six merits. Jeff was right behind him with five merits. Simon only got one merit; the only one he'd earned for the week. Bull lost two merits, from a forty-six on his first test, but a seventy-something on his second. Not happy would be a vast understatement about him at that time. The others were simply mediocre.

As we walked back into the common area, we noticed the board; Simon was unsurprisingly dead last. Bull was right above him. Not surprising again, that it was Jeff that finished first. The surprise, though, was that Ben had been able to stave off James's test grades to keep his second place, by one merit.

"I'll get you next week," James promised, but with a smile.

James may have been somewhat loud, but he was becoming more and more likeable the longer things went along. He seemed to have that charisma that drew people to him. I became increasingly glad that my first impressions of him were wrong. He was a definite asset to have as a friend.

Leon was right after James. I was placed fifth for that first week. Alex was somewhat lower; eighth place.

Our little group had solidified. James, Leon, Mike, Simon, and I had become pretty tight. We were still competing against each other, none of us liked the sound of a PR, but we'd become friends. I noticed that Ben, Remmie, and Philip seemed to be making their own group as well, but not all the time. Alex was either by himself, or close to me or Jeff. Bull, Jeff, and Scott looked like they were just fine by themselves.

Through that week, I found out that Mike was also nine years old and from Florida. His parents were killed in a boating accident off the shores of the eastern coast when he was six. His uncle on his mom's side worked for the government and suggested him for this training. Simon was still unwilling to talk about his past or why Bull had it in for him.

"Well," a familiar voice said, entering the room. It was Jones, and it was the first time we'd seen him since the night of the melee. He was pushing a cart into the room with candy bars and some underpants on it. "It looks like you've survived your first week here. And it looks like you're getting your hair back."

All of us giggled at that. I rubbed my head, feeling the light stubble, with a smile.

"Now, we do have some business to take care of," he said, sobering all of us up real quickly. "I need Edward and Simon to go stand by the door leading to the cafeteria."

Both of them looked at Jones, but only Simon began moving towards the door. He knew he'd lost. Bull was obstinate.

"I only lost because of that fight with James," he almost shouted at Jones.

"Reasons don't matter, Edward, only results," he said, very threateningly. "Perhaps this'll teach you to watch your temper. Now, move over to the door. Or I can make you crawl over to it." He pulled out the remote control. Bull walked over to the door to stand next to Simon.

"Jeff and Ben, you know you get your choices of rewards, so make them now, please," he said simply.

"I want some clothing," Ben said flatly. All of us had to laugh at that. Forget the candy bars, he wanted to be covered.

"Very well," Jones said, and pulled out a pair of underpants from the cart.

"Just these?" he asked, but tried to say it in a respectful way.

"Would you rather I take them from you?"

"No, sir," he said and took the garment. Immediately, he slipped the briefs up his legs and over his hips.

Jones turned to Jeff, who didn't care about being naked. He chose a dozen candy bars. On the wall next to the door leading to the showers were two rows of six boxes. Each box had a combination lock on it. Once Jones showed Jeff the combination to his box, he put the candy bars inside it. He didn't share a one of them, but he also didn't eat any of them.

With that done, Jones pushed the cart back out the main door and into the hallway. After locking the door again, he walked through the door to the cafeteria and had the two losers for the week follow him. The rest of us were left wondering what was going to happen to them. At least some of us were wondering that.

"Who're we supposed to tease, now that Edweirdo is gone?" James asked.

All of us chuckled at that. Even Jeff laughed a little. The answer to his rhetorical question, was no one. That night none of us talked. Even though we didn't get to sleep for a while, not one of the ten of us said a word. Now that the first punishment was being handed down, it had become even more real than ever. What was happening to them in that room?

It took me a long time before I nodded off to sleep that night, curious to what was going on, but I was finally unable to hold my eyes open any longer. I remember waking up a few times during the night, thinking I'd heard Simon scream, but I didn't. I did hear something else, though. I heard some strange noises coming from the walls. I couldn't place it for a few seconds, but then I recognized it; ocean waves. There was a set of speakers embedded in the walls next to my head that was playing the sound of the ocean to me as I slept. What was that all about?

I woke up that Saturday morning not too well rested. When I looked down, I saw that the door to my cage was open. Everyone else was still asleep, but I just couldn't go back to sleep, so I decided to get up. Someone had opened them, but not gotten us up for the day. I supposed Saturdays were now ours to do with as we pleased. After my morning piss, I headed to the cafeteria to see if there was something to eat. Agent Jones was sitting at one of the tables, drinking a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, Seth," he said as I sat down with my bowl of Cheerios and milk.

"Good morning," I answered him back.

"Sleep well?"

"Not really," I said, yawning.

"Why not?"

"Worried about Simon," I said, but that was only half the truth. I had to know. "What's with the ocean waves?"

"Subliminal learning," he said. I figured he might try to deny it, but he answered right away.

"What's that mean?"

"You and the others are learning different languages while you sleep."

"That's why I thought I'd heard the Russian words before," I said, remembering my first lesson in the classroom.

"Exactly," he said, and seemed to be impressed that I picked up on it so easily. "It helps you learn it faster. In a year's time, you'll learn five years worth of Russian."

"Is that how long we're going to be here?" I just had to know that answer, too.

"No, you'll be here longer than that, but don't ask because I'm not going to tell you how long," he said, cutting me off quickly. "At least not yet," he amended.

"You still won't tell us what you're training us for," I said, not really expecting an answer.

"You'll find out when the time is right, Seth."

He looked at his watch and got up from his seat.

"Time to go get Edward," he said, looking in the direction of the door leading that way.

"What about Simon?"

"You'll see him this evening."

Whatever the PR was holding, it only lasted one day at the most. That was good to know. As all the others were still asleep, I was the only one in the cafeteria when Jones brought in Bull. He looked like he hadn't slept all night. He had red eyes, seemingly from crying, and was slumped over at the shoulders. Whatever could make Bull cry, I didn't want any part of.

"What happened?" I asked when he sat down.

"I don't wanna talk about it," he answered, but it wasn't in his usual, gruff tone of voice. It was significantly more subdued. I didn't pressure him about it.

I left Bull alone with his breakfast and headed into the common area. James was just crawling out of his cage as I walked in the room.

"Mornin'," he said, wiping the sleep-stuff from his eyes.

"Mornin'," I answered back. "Bull's out and eating breakfast in the cafeteria." James got a smile on his face real quick, but it didn't last long as he continued to look at me.

"How bad is he?"

"Pretty bad," I commented. "He's not his normal self."

James nodded and then left for the toilets to do his business. I flipped on the television for the first time and began watching Saturday morning cartoons with the volume down kind of low. James didn't say anything as he walked through to the cafeteria. I just watched the cartoons. Even though I was watching them, my mind was on Bull, Simon, and our whole situation.

The others woke from their beds and crawled out of their cages one at a time throughout the morning until Scott finally got his bulk out for breakfast. He'd lost a few pounds that week, but he was still fat. As they went out to eat their meal, I just sat there with the television. It wasn't until later on that something clicked.

I was watching a cartoon where the main character was a spy. Some of the things that he and his enemies were doing came dangerously close to what we were training for. Weapons, which we hadn't started yet, self-defense, computers, and languages; all things that the characters were doing on the show.

"You got to be kidding," I said to an empty room.

I put it all together; we were training to be spies!

Wait a minute; spies? Us kids? I shook my head at the notion. That has to be a mistake.

I did as Mr. Collins suggested and saw the big picture of things. The more I looked, the more I came to this conclusion. I then came to the conclusion that they may be training us to do it, but we wouldn't go out to do the actual spying until we were adults. That had to be it.

Not wanting to be ridiculed by the others, I kept my findings to myself for the time being. The whole day, with Bull walking around like he was in a fog, and Ben walking around in his new underwear, I thought about my assumptions. The more I thought about it, the more they made sense to me. By the time dinner came around, my mind was made up, but I had something else preoccupying my attention. Simon was led into the room by Jones.

"How was it?" James asked him when he sat down with us.

Bull had answered no one's questions throughout the day, no matter how they pestered him. The surprising thing was that he never lost his temper about it; he just kept quiet. Now that Simon was here, all ten of us were anxious to hear about it and were hoping he'd be willing to shed some light on the subject.

"Well?" Philip asked, sitting at our table for the first time. It was like watching one of those old E. F. Hutton commercials; everyone paying close attention.

"Give him some room, guys," James said to the closed in crowd.

Simon took his time before answering. He looked worse than Bull, but not by much. He was in that room longer than the bigger preteen, but seemed to have handled it better. Finally, he spoke, but it was barely above a whisper.

"It was nothing," he started. "All I… we… had to do was stand there."

"That's it?" James asked.

"Sort of," Simon said, looking down at the last remnants of his meal.

"Come on, Simon, out with it," Alex finally prompted.

"Mr. Jones and another guy put us in some kind of rubber suit," he began again after a deep breath. "It covered us up all over. Then the hood went up over our heads and covered our eyes."

"SHUT UP!" Bull screamed at Simon from the other side of the room, and then ran out of the room in sheer terror. All of us watched him run out, but no one followed.

"Wonder what his problem is…," James said, musingly.

"There's a whole list of them, James," Jeff commented and all of us, including Simon, laughed. We turned our attentions back to Simon, though.

"Go on, Simon," James prodded.

"Well," he stated, "something went over my eyes and ears after that. I couldn't see or hear anything. Some kind of mask was put over my nose and mouth, too.

"After that, I felt something going around my wrists and ankles. Mr. Jones pulled my arms out and legs apart, but I couldn't move them after that."

"You were tied up?" Jeff asked.

"I guess so, but I was still standing up."

"And you couldn't sit down?" Ben butted in. Simon shook his head, no.

"All night?" James asked.

"It's only been one day?" Simon asked.

"Yeah; it's still Saturday."

"It feels like longer. A lot longer."

"Well, that doesn't sound all that bad to me," James boasted.

"It's bad, James, trust me," Simon said with an amount of confidence I had not seen in him, yet. "You're right; at the beginning, it's not so bad, but soon things get bad. Your mind begins playing tricks on you after a while. Not knowing what's happening is the worst part of it."

With that knowledge in hand, some of them went their separate ways. James, Leon, Mike, and I stayed with Simon, though. Alex also remained behind. I wasn't sure if it was continued curiosity or if he was genuinely concerned for Simon, but he stayed all the same.

I went to sleep with my head full of questions and concerns. That PR didn't sound all that bad, but by the way Simon was talking and Bull was behaving, it was bad. And if this is just the beginning stages of it all, how bad is it going to get in that room and further down the road? Just what in the world were they doing with us? Was it training to be spies, or something else? If it was to be spies, why Bull, of all people? Cannon fodder, came to mind; someone expendable.

As I lay there, thinking, I heard Bull grunt and groan in his cage. When we'd turned in that evening, he seemed reluctant to go into his pen. One look at Jones's controller had him crawling inside, though. Finally, frustrated with everything, I gave up and curled up for a night's sleep.

Sunday was what we all began to term as 'recovery day'. Those that had spent the previous day in the PR recovered from their experiences to begin a new week. On this first recovery day, Alex began to spend more time around the five of us. I was confused by his behavior that all of a sudden he was friendly towards us. James, Leon, and Simon accepted him readily, Mike didn't care, but I was suspicious of him.

"What're you doing?" I asked him that evening. He'd gone to the toilets to take a piss, and I cornered him in the otherwise empty room.

"What're you talking about?"

"All of last week you didn't want to talk to me or anyone else. Now all of a sudden you start to hang around us. Why?"

He just looked at me, sort of stunned that someone had seen his behavior. I just glared at him, waiting for an answer.

"So?" I prodded again.

"No reason," he said finally, shrugging his shoulders. He tried to scoot by me, but I blocked his path.

"Bullshit," I told him. And then I realized it. "You were waiting to see which group you wanted to be in." Again, he was stunned. "All you want is to be with the biggest group. Don't you?"

He got a real scared look on his face and backed away from me. I smiled. I'd known his type at the orphanage; the ones that hang around the older kids just simply for protection, not out of loyalty or friendship. But, what do I do about it? My mind went back to that first question on the test back in Seattle; would I say something?

I turned and left him standing there in the bathroom, wondering. The others were either in the gym, pool, or common area. Bull was sitting in the common area by himself, as usual. The rest of the day wasn't enough time for Alex to behave any differently to anyone else in our group. We all just turned in with the others clueless to this latest little wrinkle.

The second week in our training began just like the first, with a few changes. The groups began solidifying. When we sat down for breakfast, the five of us sat together as normal. When Alex looked over at us, I didn't look his direction, but James invited him to sit down. I acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. By Wednesday, Alex had made himself at home in our little group, but I hadn't said, nor forgotten, anything.

Monday, though, we had another round of one-on-one fighting. This time, though, Mr. Routhe paired us up. He paired us up by numbers; 1/3, 2/4, 5/7, 6/8, and so on. That meant that Simon and Jeff were opponents, me against Leon, Mike versus Alex, James battling Remmie, Bull and Ben, and Scott and Philip.

Philip took out Scott a lot easier than I did. James dispatched Remmie without difficulty. Bull made mince-meat of Ben; had to get his nose put back into place as well as collect a tooth he lost on the floor. Simon took another loss to Jeff. I was now feeling extremely sorry for the kid; he hadn't won anything when it came to dinners.

The biggest problems were the last four of us. We'd formed a small group and now we were adversaries. This type of thing has been known to tear friendships apart. Mike and Alex were going at it, but neither one seemed to want to do any real damage to the other. I wished I had that luck.

Leon was sparing nothing with me. Every move either of us made was countered easily by the other. I would swing, he'd block, but swing back towards me. I would block, and swing to be thwarted again. Each of us were really trying, but neither one was doing any real damage to the other. We were really trying, but getting nowhere. We ended up being the last two still fighting.

"Oh, will you just knock his head off?" James called to us.

"Which one?" Simon asked.

"I don't care," James shouted, getting to the two of us, "I'm hungry." The others laughed as we continued doing more than simply sparring.

Leon tried a head-lock, but I broke free with a punch to his stomach before he could do any real damage to me. When I did break free, I had a golden opportunity to tag his back, and I took it. He groaned, but swung away from me. He made a move to get at my stomach and I swung a fist towards his face. He ducked and all I did was hit his forehead. Hard!

"AAaagh!" I screamed, going down to the mat, holding my hand in pain.

Leon swung his foot up and nailed my side.

"I give, I give," I bellowed. My hand was in too much pain not to quit.

He giggled, but was holding his forehead where I'd tagged him. He reached his other hand down to me to help me up, and I took it with my good hand.

"Don't you know niggers have hard heads?" he asked, smirking. Everyone in the room laughed.

"I wasn't aiming for your head," I scowled, but then smirked to let him know that there were no hard feelings between us. James had taught me that the previous week by his example. Someone had to win, someone had to lose.

The winners went to the cafeteria to eat, while us losers went to the common area. Ben and I were taken to see the doctor. My hand had begun to swell a little.

"Hello," Doctor Wells said as we walked in the door.

Both Ben and I stopped in our tracks as we entered. Her bald-headed eunuch boy was tied to the examination table with his legs tied to the side and some sort of gag in his mouth. And something I'd never seen before was shoved up his butt. The thing that was up there had something of a square harness with buckles on it. The buckles were secured to the side of the table. His butt was also lined with angry red lines. I saw that his face was red as well, but from crying. Ben and I looked at each other with similar looks of surprise on our faces, then back to the boy, and then to the doctor.

"Don't pay him any mind, boys," she said to our stunned looks.

She took care of Ben first. She looked at his nose and with a quick jerk of her hands, and a gross crunching noise, she reset his nose. He screamed at the pain, but a second later stopped. I made another vow right then; never to have my nose broken. She looked at his teeth, and he only lost one of the baby teeth.

As Ben was finished, she turned her attentions to my hand, which was swelling a bit bigger, now. She moved a few of the fingers around, and the middle finger hurt as she did.

"They don't seem to be broken, but let's take a look."

In the room to the side opposite from the door where I released the contents of the enema, was an x-ray room. My hand was examined and without having to wait any longer than a few minutes, the pictures showed up. Nothing broken.

"The hand will be sore for a few days, Seth, but you should be fine by Friday," she said with a smile. I nodded my thanks, but I was burning with a question.

"Did that boy do something wrong?" I asked her respectfully, curiosity getting the better of me.

"Yes, he did," she said, but had a smile on her face.

"Can I ask what that thing was that was stuck up his butt?"

"Oh, that," she said snickering, "is a dildo with a harness. That's for my pleasure, actually."

"Oh."

"Do you want to stay and watch?"

"Watch?"

"Watch what he gets for his punishments."

That was something new. Back at the orphanage, they used paddles on us if we got too out of line, but it was always in private. The curator had done it to me once, and it was in his office with my pants on. I was completely befuddled at the suggestion she was making to me.

"Perhaps you're not ready for that, yet," she suggested at my hesitation.

"No, wait," I said, stopping her as she was about to leave the x-ray room. "I'll stay."

"Okay, follow me, then."

We went back into the office where only the boy was there. Mr. Routhe had taken Ben back to the common area. She got me an icepack from the refrigerator as she had me sit down at her desk. The pack was put on my hand. The good doctor then turned her attentions back to the bound boy. When he saw what she had in mind, namely that I was staying to watch what was about to happen, he turned his head away to look at the wall.

"Oh, no, boy. You turn right back around and look at Seth." The boy complied with her demand, but he didn't want to. The kid had to be humiliated enough, but now it was going to get worse.

The doctor removed her cloak and then her clothes. She had a set of firm breasts with a flat stomach. A tattoo of a set of handcuffs was on her right buttock. The only things she kept on, were her high-heeled shoes.

She walked up to stand behind him and removed the straps to the harness from the table. From where I was sitting, I saw something small protruding from the back of the harness. From there, the straps were buckled around her hips, putting the flat side of it right at her trimmed groin and apparently slipping that small thing inside her. In one quick move, the dildo was yanked out of the boy's backside, eliciting a groan from him. I saw what a dildo was right then; it looked like a rubber dick.

She didn't put it back inside him immediately. There was a wooden cane resting on the table next to the boy. She took it and plied it to his lined butt again. He groaned at the pain of it, but she didn't stop. Time and time again, she whipped him with that thing until it finally broke. The boy's butt and legs were nothing but a mess of red and purple lines. His face was covered in tears and red splotches.

"That was for disobeying me, boy," she hissed into his ear. "This is for me."

The dildo was reinserted into his backside, eliciting another groan from him. Once the tip was inside, she made a hard lunge forward. He screamed as best as he could through the gag, but could do nothing to stop her assault. She grabbed him by his shoulders and began to saw in and out of him with her hips. I looked on as she continued to fuck him harder and harder, each thrust more sadistically vicious than the previous one. With his hands bound to the sides of the table, all he could do was take whatever she was doing to him.

I watched speechlessly as her body finally shook in ecstasy. Even her breasts shook as she climaxed. She calmed down, but wasn't done, yet. When she'd gathered her strength, she began fucking him all over again. This one didn't last as long as the previous one, but the boy was in just as much pain. I was embarrassed for him, but did nothing to try and stop it. After the third time of fucking him, she stopped and pulled the dildo out of the kid.

"Well, that was fun," she said, trying to steady herself, "but I think he's had enough."

Now that was the worst understatement I'd heard yet. I thought he'd had enough long, long ago.

She removed the harness and dildo from her front and got dressed. I must have had a stupid look on my face, because she sort of smirked as she looked in my direction.

"Too much for you?" she asked, walking over to me.

"I guess," I said, still stunned by the display. "But what happens to him now?"

"I usually leave him tied like that for the night, especially after such a satisfying experience."

Nothing else was said between us, but as she led me back to the common area, my head was swimming with images. I saw that the others were already tucked away for the night. I brushed my teeth and pissed before walking back into the area. She wished me pleasant dreams as she locked me in my cage. I doubted if my dreams were going to be pleasant that night.

My hand was almost back to its normal size the next morning, but my head was cluttered up with even more to think about. I had to put it aside for the sake of my studies. I was now a little behind in the points and I didn't want to go to the PR. Bull and Simon were both working as hard as possible to stay out of it, so competition was stiffer.

"You okay?" Leon asked me as we sat down for breakfast.

"Yeah," I said, but didn't elaborate. My hand was getting better, but my head wasn't.

By Wednesday, actually, my hand was totally back to normal. The six of us were a tighter group, now, and I was doing a bit better in the points. I was at the very least ahead of some others; Remmie and Scott. There were at least two points separating me from Remmie.

That night, things changed for the whole group. All twelve of us. Mr. Routhe announced the fight for the evening; even numbers versus the odd numbers.

"Oh, shit," Mike exclaimed.

I wouldn't blame him. We had Leon, James, Bull, and me on our side. It was the proverbial 'David versus Goliath'. This time Goliath was going to win.

Mr. Routhe separated us at far ends of the room for us to strategize amongst ourselves. James took the lead almost immediately upon entering the huddle.

He came up with the game plan of who should take out whom. He wanted me to take out Alex again. I wasn't too sure of this, but I just followed his lead; he must have known what he was talking about. Leon on Scott, Bull on Mike, Remmie on Simon, Ben on Philip, and he was taking Jeff.

"You sure about this, James?" Ben asked. I was kind of thinking the same thing.

"Yeah, I am, Ben, unless you have a better idea," he countered.

"Yeah," Bull spoke up, "I want Simple Simon."

"There's a shock," I retorted. He was about to come back with another snap of his own, but James stopped him.

"Look, we ain't got the time to argue about it right now. If you take out your own man, then help one of the others."

"Everyone ready?" Mr. Routhe asked. It wasn't a question.

We broke huddle and faced down our adversaries. Simon and Philip were behind the other four. When Mr. Routhe blew his whistle, we ran at them.

"WE GIVE!" all of them shouted, kneeling down at our rush. We stopped and looked in the direction of our instructor. Mr. Routhe was visibly disappointed and a little angry.

"Alright, but two demerits for the losers for giving up so quickly," he said.

All the losers were okay with it, except for Jeff. Not happy at all. He stormed off in the direction of the common room with nothing more to say to his fellow teammates. We that were on the winning side ate our victory meal in silence. Even James seemed more subdued at the outcome.

"Why'd you guys give up so quickly?" he asked Mike when walked into the room.

"Are you kidding?" Mike asked, incredulously. "There was no way we were going to win that fight. We had Scott and Simon on our team. We knew Bull was going to be coming for him, so he would have been useless."

Simon never got over that remark. Both of them were still part of the group, but from that day onward, Simon had a chip on his shoulder when it came to Mike.

Simon was last again that week, mostly due to that fight's results. His grades had helped a little, but both Scott and Remmie did better than him on the tests. Scott was next to last, sending him to the PR for the first time. James came in first, choosing twelve bars of candy, and Leon was second, choosing the candy as well. I slipped a place and came in sixth.

James ate one of his bars, put six away in his locker, and then surprised us by sharing the rest with the four members of our little group that were there. His stock rose a huge level in my opinion right then. It was no wonder that he was our leader at the time.

It seemed that no one cared about running around naked all over the place. We just didn't seem to care. Even Ben stopped wearing his underpants on our off-time. We lounged around in our birthday suits as if it were a nudist resort.

"So, how was it?" Philip asked Scott when his twelve hours were up.

"It was okay," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

But it wasn't him that we were all really curious about. It was Simon. His time was going to be worse. We waited with baited breath to hear from him, but when he walked into the cafeteria that evening, he had a look on his face that meant defeat.

"I never want to go in that room again," he said sitting down at the table.

"That bad?" Alex asked.

"Worse than you can imagine," he said, looking at the table.

"Then this'll help," James said, pushing the other candy bar to him.

Simon looked at the bar and smiled up at James with tears in his eyes. He lost it after a second or two. Whatever had happened to him in that room had not left a mark on his body, but was apparently so horrible that it was just destroying him. Simon cried as hard as ever on James's shoulder. The rest of us looked at each other and, unable to do much else for him, just placed our hands on his back.

"Come on," James said, once Simon settled down a little more. James led him out of the room and into the common area. He got the kid cleaned up and then into his bunk for the night.

The next day, I didn't see either James nor Simon at breakfast. When I was done eating, I went looking for them, and found them in the weight room. James was showing Simon a few things to defend himself the next time we had a fight. It wasn't much more than Mr. Routhe had been teaching us, but taking him under his wing showed Simon that he wasn't useless.

On the morning beginning our third week at the facility, we received our vitamin shots from the doctor and then began the day. That afternoon, the training changed. Workout sessions were only an hour long, now, along with swimming. When we were finished, Davenport walked us back into the general area where a new instructor waited for us.

"Line up," he said and we did. "I am Mr. Nelson. Today, you're going to begin learning about different weapons; guns, knives, etc."

"Oh yeah," James said.

A second later, he was on the floor, screaming. The rest of us stood there, not even thinking about wanting to help. I liked James, now, and quite a bit, but getting shocked like that was not what I had in mind for my neck. Nelson made it last incredibly long, in my opinion.

"Get back up in line, James," Nelson said, after turning off the electricity.

James stood back up, but with a lot less enthusiasm. Mr. Nelson walked up to stand in front of him, but he talked loud enough that he had to be addressing all of us.

"What I'm going to be showing you is dangerous. If any of you clown around, joke around, or take this less that absolutely serious, you'll be spending a great deal of time in severe pain. Do you understand?"

There was a smattering of "yeses" throughout the line, but he wasn't satisfied with that.

"In unison, boys," he said, moving his hand to the controller.

"Yes," we chorused.

"Yes sir," he corrected.

"Yes, sir," again, we chorused.

"Good. Now, turn and follow me."

Mr. Nelson was facing my direction, so I was in the lead. He led us to the door between the classroom and the swimming pool. It opened into a hallway which led to another door. On the other side of the door, was a large, open room. It had six targets at the end with six stalls being divided by walls about four feet [1.20 m] taller than we were at that time. He lined us up against the back wall, separated by the door.

"Now, this is the firing range. Here, you'll learn to shoot a weapon; any weapon. You'll learn the differences in them, advantages and disadvantages of each. But, with every weapon, there is one basic rule; always assume that it's loaded. The one time that you think that it isn't, it usually is and some innocent gets killed. And that's usually how people shoot themselves, too."

From there, he picked up a handgun and had us come over to him. James laid back a little, but the rest of us were vastly interested in what he was showing us. He showed us the bullets and the right and wrong way of using a gun. The guns he showed us were of light caliber; light enough for kids to use on their first time. When he was done talking, he had us line back up.

"Odd numbers up to the line first," he continued. I didn't like the sound of that. It wasn't that I was going to be first; it was giving Bull a gun. But, he had a plan.

When we were all up there, he started down the line with me first. He handed me a magazine of bullets and told me to load it into the gun as he'd just showed us. I did. He said to always keep the gun facing down-range. There would be double time in the PR for anyone that didn't comply with that.

"Okay, now, aim it down range, put the butt of the gun in your left hand and hold it in your right." I did as he showed me. "Now put the target in line with the front site and the back site." I did again. "Now, squeeze the trigger, don't pull it."

I did as he said, and a loud "BANG!" went off. Everyone covered their ears. He turned to address all of us.

"Now, I did that to show each of you the importance of hearing protection."

"Man, my ears are still ringing," Alex commented.

"Exactly, Alex, exactly," he said with confidence.

He showed everyone the earmuff hearing protection and all of us put them on. From there, he had to talk to each of us with a louder voice. He told me to keep trying to shoot the target. I did, getting off all eight rounds down range. I had a fairly tight shot group, but it was to the left, with one hole all the way to the right.

"You did very well your first time, Seth," he said.

"But I didn't hit the center," I said, almost complaining.

"Well, I didn't expect you to. But, you did get all but one of them in the same general area."

"What was I doing wrong, then?"

"The gun wasn't adjusted to your sights; I'll show you how to do that tomorrow. As far as the other one that went awry, you probably pulled the trigger instead of squeezing it."

I nodded that I understood him. I even sort of remember getting one off faster than the others.

From there, he headed down the range, working with the others just like me. He worked his way back up the line and finished the class with Alex. We all smelled like gunpowder when we were done. All of us were charged up as we left the range. Even James had gotten over his initial encounter with Mr. Nelson. Surprisingly, Simon had done just as well as I had on the exercise and earned himself a merit. It looked as though he might just get through a week without going into the PR.

When we got out of the hallway leading to the range, and into the general room, Nelson led us to the line on the mat. We turned and Nelson waited. A few minutes later, eleven other men walked into the room. Seven were unknown, but Jones, Davenport, Collins, and Routhe were there to round out the dozen. Nelson turned and took his place between Collins and an unknown man that looked older than dirt.

I gulped at the sight of them. There was no way we had to fight them for our supper. No fucking way.

Jones stepped forward with a smile on his face.

"Relax, boys," Jones said, starting off. All of us were eerily quiet; they must have been thinking the same thing I was. "You will not be engaging in any fight tonight. They have been moved to Friday afternoons. It is now time to split you up and begin some individual training.

"From now on, you'll spend at least two hours a day with your personal trainer. He will give you guidance as to what you'll be doing from now on and what your jobs will be later. When your name is called, step forward."

Davenport stepped forward and called Alex to him. The two left for the swimming pool. Collins called Philip to him and then departed for the classroom. A big man that looked like he was made of nothing but solid muscle beckoned Simon to him. The boy looked like the world was about to end. Routhe pulled James into the weight room with him. Jones had Ben follow him out the door that led to the cafeteria.

It went on with Bull being chosen by an older man with a fair amount of gray in his hair. But, he was also buffed up. Leon was paired with a black man that was of fair build. Jeff summoned by a big, fat man with no neck and several chins. They headed for the PR on the left. Remmie left with a man with a military haircut and fatigues on. Scott got a man with a round, friendly face. I kind of envied him. Of the remaining two men, one was younger and the other was Nelson. The younger man called out my name.

"Come with me, Seth," he said. I nodded and he went towards the right hand PR. I froze outside the doorway. "Relax, you're not going to get punished, but this leads to where we're going."

I breathed a little easier. When we got into the room, I saw that there was nothing special about it, except there were two half-circle hooks bolted to the floor, all four walls, and the middle of the ceiling. Other than that, there was nothing really special about it. Nothing was even in the room itself.

The man led me through it and through the door on the other side. It opened into a hallway similar to the others that I'd seen. The only way to go from here was to the right. We walked down the hall and into another room.

The room looked like a dinning room. A long table was in the middle with about ten chairs around it; four on each side and two at the ends. Candelabras were in the center. The rest of the room was filled with simple elegant items. It was made to look like a fairly wealthy man's dining room, but one that had some discretion and taste.

The man led me to the table and sat down in the chair at the end of it. He was quite handsome, really, standing at least six feet [1.80 m] tall, slim build, light brown hair, blue eyes and a smooth, angular face. At first, he just sat there looking at me.

"Turn around, Seth," he said. I did as I was told, fearing the electric shock of the collar. "Okay, and continue all the way around to face me." I finished the circle and stood, waiting for whatever came next.

"Do you know why you're here?"

"To learn from you," I said, thinking it was obvious.

"No," he said with a slight smile, "I mean at this facility."

"Oh." I thought about what the past two weeks had been like and the conclusions I'd reached on my own. I wondered if I should tell him of my assumptions or just feign ignorance. I chose the former. "I think we're supposed to be learning to be spies."

"Very good, Seth," he said, seemingly genuinely impressed. "Agent Jones told me you were smart."

"So, it's true?"

"Yes, but not all of it, and not all of you are going to be spies," he said, confirming what Mr. Collins said about Bull. "But you have a special task to perform. It's my job to not only train you, but also lead you out to where you're going to be going."

"Just what is this 'special task'?"

"Before I answer that, I want to ask you; how long have you known about why you're here?"

"A week ago, Saturday I put it together, but I wasn't totally sure until today in the firing range. Why?"

"Because I wanted to know if you can keep your mouth shut about things without being told to do so."

"I can."

"Yeah, I'm finding that out," he said with a smirk. "Okay, I've been given a wide margin of latitude as far as how to train you. Meaning, that I can pretty much do as I want, within certain limits, of course.

"With that, I'll tell you whatever you want to know, excluding any questions about what the others are going to be doing, or where they're going. But, I warn you, the more information you give to people about your mission, the more you put yourself into danger. Understand?"

I nodded.

"Good. Now, go ahead and ask your questions."

"Can I ask who you are, first?"

He laughed for a few seconds at that question.

"My apologies, Seth, my name's Hank Powers, but you'll come to call me something else." I looked at him in question. "I'll come to that later." I nodded.

"Now, what's this 'special task'?"

"It kind of goes along with the last answer I gave you." He took a deep breath before going on. "Your job will be to pose as a slave to a man in the Russian government. When the time comes, I'll take you over to Moscow, posing as a business man from here in America, and sell you to him."

"A slave?! I'm supposed to be a slave?" I knew about slavery and what the blacks went through when our country was first formed and I didn't like the sound of this at all. Not one little bit.

"Posing as one, yes."

"Meaning, he can just do whatever he wants with me."

"Probably, yes," he said.

"Are the others doing this, too?"

"I can't answer that, Seth," he warned.

I stopped, remembering what he said about asking about the others. I wouldn't want any of them knowing about my job, either. Especially Bull; probably sell his mother out for a dollar. I took a deep breath of my own. I was over the shock of what he had initially told me. I now needed to find out specifically what else was involved.

"Okay, what am I going to be doing? Details."

"You sure you want to hear this?"

"I suppose so," I answered, suddenly apprehensively.

"Well, you'll be trained to be a slave, in all forms that are required. You'll know how to serve your master, being me, in every way possible."

"Meaning, what, exactly?"

"Meaning, that you'll know how to do everything from household chores to… things of a sexual nature."

"Sexual nature?"

"Yes. As I said; a slave in every way possible."

"Just what does 'sexual' mean?"

"Oh come now, Seth, you're a smart kid. What else could I possibly mean by that?"

"You're going to have sex with me?" He nodded. "How?" I knew what sex was, and that there were gay people in the world, but I didn't know the mechanics of it. I was only eight, after all.

"When the time comes, I'm going to fuck you," he said, looking a little put out with my inability to grasp what was coming down the pike. "Right in your cute little butt." That comment came with a smile.

Comprehension slammed into me with the force of a tornado. I backed away from him, suddenly afraid of it all. Jones said what I was going to be doing was dangerous; he didn't say anything about this.

"Don't even think about it, Seth," Powers threatened.

He pulled out a remote control from his belt it had only two buttons and a lever on it.

"This is tuned to your collar only. Right now, I have it set on the second level. I don't want to use it, but I will if I have to."

I stopped in my tracks remembering the shock from the first day and my classmates that had endured it up till now. There was no way out of this, now. I was stuck.

"I don't have a choice, do I?" I asked him, making sure of it all.

"You had a choice before; when Agent Jones brought you here, but not any more," he said, but not in a nasty way. It was more just telling me how it was to be.

"What do we do now?" I said, resigned to it.

"From here on out, I'll train you to be a slave. I will be your master. From now on, you'll refer to me as Master or Sir. Understood?" I nodded. That should be easy to remember. "Not good enough; a slave always answers verbally and with the shortest answer possible."

"Yes."

"Always finish a sentence with 'sir'," he said.

"Yes, Sir," I corrected.

"Good boy," he commented as if he were praising a Cocker Spaniel. "Now, first, there are some basic body positions that you need to know. Then, we'll get to serving techniques.

"The first position you already know; a standing-relaxed position. Hands behind your back, head up, shoulders back, stomach in, feet a little bit apart. Remember to always keep your head and eyes facing ahead of you. Some masters do prefer their slaves to look down to the ground; yours might, I don't know."

"Can you find out?"

"One demerit for not finishing the sentence with 'sir'."

"Yes, Sir," I said, thinking about that.

"Also, a slave does not speak unless spoken to first. He is seen, barely, and almost never, ever heard."

"Yes, Sir," I repeated.

"To answer your question, Seth, no, I don't think I can find out something like that for you. You'll just have to make the judgment call when you get there."

"Yes, Sir."

"Now, the second position is a serving position. You will use this whenever you are delivering anything to your master." There was a chalice on the table next to him and he handed it to me. "First, put your feet and knees together and bend slightly at the waist. Bow your head also and hold out your hands."

I did as he told me and he put the cup in my hands on the palms.

"Do you think that's very sturdy, Seth?"

"No, Sir," I said, looking at it.

"I didn't say you could move," he informed me and I lowered my head back down. "One more demerit." I grumbled to myself, but knew better than to make a sound. "Grab the cup, slave."

Being called that for the first time, I stuttered. I recovered quickly and grabbed the cup with both hands.

"This is how you give something to me that has liquid in it." He took the cup from my hands and I dropped my hands to my side. "Did I tell you that you could move?"

Yipe! I put my hands back up.

"Another demerit." He put something in my hands, laying it on my palms. "This is how you give me something that's solid. Understand the difference?"

"Yes, Sir," I said, still remembering to face downward.

"Good. The next one is a punishment position. This one will be used should I decide you need a punishment of some sort or another. From the position you're in now, put your hands on your knees. Arch your back downward; this will raise your head up, too."

I did as he directed, hoping that there wouldn't be a time he would use this one. My hope was dashed almost immediately.

"As you're already in this position, let's use it. How many demerits have you gotten, slave?"

"Three, Sir," remembering to answer properly and short.

"Correct. And you'll get five swats for every demerit."

I was so tempted to look to see what he was about to do to me, but I refrained. It wasn't easy. He stood up and walked around behind me. I heard him pick up something and then a sound that resembled wind rushing through my ears came from his direction. A second or two later, the sound came again, but was accompanied by excruciating pain from my butt.

I couldn't help it; I jumped forward and grabbed my butt. Damn, that hurt. I turned to look at him. He was holding a cane that was similar to what the doctor used on her boy. I turned my head to look at my backside and a faint red welt began to rise from the skin.

"Resume your position, slave," he demanded. I shook my head, no.

His hand was on the remote faster than I thought was humanly possible. Less than a second later, I was on the floor screaming and clawing at the collar. The pain was much worse that I felt that first day. Powers kept it going for what felt like the longest time of my life. I'd never known there was ever this level of pain or that it was possible to survive it.

"Resume your position, slave," he repeated after turning off the electricity.

"Yes, Sir," I gasped as I crawled to my hands and knees. I ached all over from that treatment, but I was now having to endure even more pain at the mercy of the cane in his hand.

"One more demerit for that little display, and five more swats of the cane," he announced as I assumed the punishment position. I groaned at the unfairness of it all.

The second swat made contact, sending more shards of pain through me. I gritted my teeth at that, but worked to maintain my position. One after another connected with the tender skin of my butt. At the tenth count, tears were falling down my cheeks. At fifteen I didn't think I could bear any more; the pain was more than humanly possible. But, if I moved, it would be five more from that thing, so I stood there, taking it.

The last hit came, and I screamed at it. My whole ass was on fire from that thing.

"Stand up, slave," he commanded and I obeyed, albeit shakingly.

I hissed when I mistakenly touched my enflamed skin with the back of my hand, so I moved it up to rest on the curve of my back. Powers walked around to stand in front of me.

"Do we have an understanding, Seth?"

"Yes, Sir," I said through my tears.

"Good. There are two more positions for you to learn, but I think I'll wait till tomorrow to show you them. For now, let's review what you've learned."

He ran me through the four different positions several times until he was satisfied with each of them. The last position he had me do was, once again, the punishment position.

"Now, as you now know, I can use this position to punish you, but there is another reason to use it. You're about to find out what it is. If you move while I'm doing this, you'll get another round with the cane and two more demerits. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir," I said, knowing I wasn't about to like what he was going to do.

He took his spot behind me again. This time, though, I felt his hand touch my back in an almost lovingly soft manner. Something slick was wiped between my buttcheeks. It didn't feel bad, so I thought that maybe I misjudged what he had in mind. A second later, I found out those thoughts were wrong.

Something began touching the anal barrier. Only the rod in the classroom had touched me there before. He started pushing whatever it was into my backside and into my anal cavity. I groaned and tensed up my legs, but forced myself not to move as the invader continued its trek inside me. The groaning lessened as he withdrew it. Then it was back. He pushed it in, working it with some skill, making sure it went in further, but trying not to cause any undue pain, I supposed. Back and forth he worked it, pushing it farther and farther inside me.

Then, when I thought I couldn't take any more of it, the pain lessened. The thing didn't withdraw, but the pain diminished. I felt full, like in the classroom when the rod is expanded.

"You handled that very well, Seth; one demerit is removed."

Can you take back the caning that went with it? I asked him in my mind.

"You may stand up and look back behind you, now," he said, walking back to stand in front of me.

The first thing I noticed was the severity of the caning; more lines than I cared to count criss-crossed across my butt. The second thing I saw was the back of the thing stuck into me. It was flat and black. I turned back to Powers and assumed the resting position.

"That's a buttplug, and it stays there unless you're using the bathroom," he told me. I had a question, but as I couldn't talk, I just sort of made a difficult face at him. He noticed the conundrum. "Do you have a question?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Ask your question. We'll come up with a signal for that tomorrow."

"Yes, Sir. What about being in classes? The classroom has a rod that goes there."

"Yes, I know. Mr. Collins knows about it and will make an exception for you as long as you remain in your seat for the duration of the class period. If you don't, then you'll have to remove it for class and he'll put the rod back there."

"Yes, Sir. Is that what the rod--!?" I stopped in mid-sentence, realizing that I'd just spoken out of turn. Crying, I just simply turned around and bent over, giving him my backside to punish again.

"No punishment for that one, Seth," he said, bemused. "We were having a small conversation. But, watch yourself for slips like that in the future."

"Yes, Sir," I said, not moving from where I was.

"And you can turn around, too."

I did and he walked to me. Unexpectedly, he knelt down in front of me. Almost lovingly, he put his hands on the outsides of my shoulders where the arms connect to my body.

"I know I was rough on you today, Seth, but you have, if not the most, then one of the most dangerous assignments coming. You need to know everything as if it's second nature to you. And we don't have a lot of time to teach you, so you must get things as fast as you can. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir. Can I ask how long we're going to be here training, then?"

"Two years, Seth. That may seem like a long time, but believe me, it will go by very fast. And all of you have a lot to learn within that timeframe."

"Wow; two years, Sir?"

"Yep."

Powers ran me through the positions one more time and then called it quits for the day. He led me to one of the two remaining doors in the room; the one that was behind the head of the dinner table. He took me to the doctor's office to get my butt looked at. Her boy was kneeling next to her desk with the same gag that was in his mouth from the previous time I was here. Drool was running down from the corners and dripping down his front. He didn't do anything to wipe it off.

The doctor saw that the skin on my butt was broken in only one or two places. She applied an ointment, which stung at the beginning, but felt cool after a few moments. I stood back up after getting treated and the boy and I locked eyes for a briefest of seconds. Understanding flowed between us. Nothing was said.

Powers took me to the door that opened up to the living area. He didn't say anything for a moment.

"Yes, Master?" I asked, thinking that that was the proper way of addressing him at that time.

"Nothing; just have a good night, Seth. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

With that, he opened the door for me to go through. He looked like he was almost overcome with emotion. I paid it no mind and walked into the room. A few of the others were in the common area. I heard a few of them in the showers. Simon and Scott were both curled up on their beds, dead tired. I walked through the common area to the cafeteria for dinner, not caring who was in the area watching the TV.

"What happened to you?" I heard as I was stepping through the door.

I turned and saw Alex, Ben and Mike sitting there, looking at me. I knew they were looking at the lines on my butt, however, I didn't care. I just went into the cafeteria properly and headed over to the food row.

Bull was at his usual table in the corner of the room. Leon and James were sitting down at our usual table talking over their meals. They saw what the others had seen as I walked to the food. The three from the common area followed me and sat at the table with James and Leon, waiting for me to arrive.

"So, what happened?" Mike asked again.

"I had some trouble following instructions," I answered, not elaborating.

"That's not like you," James reported.

"It was today," I said as I sat down, but then stood back up in a second. I just couldn't sit down on my butt. I wondered how I was going to get through the next day's classes.

"So, who was your instructor?" Alex asked.

"Mr. Powers," I said while trying to eat standing up.

"What the hell did he do to you?" James asked.

"Yeah, and what is that thing up your butt?"

"Let it go, guys! Please?!" I asked, getting frustrated with them for the first time. I threw my fork down on the food I was trying to eat. Crying, but trying to hold back the tears, I sat down on the seat hard. I shot back up, shrieking at the pain I'd just put myself through.

I couldn't sit down, and I didn't want to stand up. Tears of frustration fell. I'd gotten myself into something that I didn't want to continue, but there was no way out of it, now. I was just as stuck as my comrades.

"I… I'll see you guys in the morning," I choked out and left them at the table.

As I still somewhat smelled like gun smoke, I headed for the showers. Jeff, Philip, and Remmie were the ones in there. Jeff saw the marks on me but returned to his shower as if it happened every day. Philip and Remmie also saw them, but even though they didn't say anything, they couldn't stop looking, either.

That night, I crawled into bed, sore, aching, and beaten, knowing I'd made a mistake in choosing to come with Agent Jones. But, like a fly in a spider's web, I was trapped.

Mr. Collins woke us up way too soon, for my tastes. I usually wasn't one for complaining, but as my butt was still sore, I groaned. Achingly, I crawled from my cage to face a new day in hell. Most of us were in the same boat; sore. However, no one had endured what I had gone through with Powers. No one else's butt looked like a fucking waffle-iron.

No one asked me about it. Simon wasn't one to ask about something like that. And Scott was not one of our group, so he didn't bother either. The rest of them had already seen me and knew I was not up for talking about it.

"All of you look as sore as I do," I said, taking my seat with our group.

My butt stung, however, I was able to sit down without too much discomfort.

"Yeah," James said, stretching out his arms.

"At least you don't have something stuck up your butt," I chided. The rest of them snickered.

"Yeah, what is that thing, anyway?" Leon asked.

"It's a buttplug; something like the rods in the classroom. Anyway, I gotta wear the thing from now on."

"Till when?" James asked.

"Till Mr. Powers takes it out," I told them, shrugging my shoulders.

"How do you, like, take a shit?" Leon again.

"First, I sit on your face," I countered. All of them guffawed loudly. Even Leon. "And then grunt." More laughter.

After breakfast, things felt a little better. I had to use the bathroom, as Leon's question would dictate, and had to remove the damn thing from back there. It hurt removing it, because some of the lubricant Powers had put on it had washed and evaporated away. But, I did what I had to do and pulled it out. I did my business, washed off the plug (as Powers told me to do), and replaced it. It hurt just as much going back in as it did coming out. However, I wasn't about to get any more demerits for not doing what I was told.

Speaking of demerits, though, I wasn't alone. Almost all of them had gotten at least two from their respective instructors, so I didn't feel too bad about my performance with Powers. Only Simon had escaped with one demerit.

Collins led us to the classroom, where the rod on my seat had indeed been removed.

"Lucky you," James replied as we took our seats.

"I'll trade you any day, James," I shot back with, showing him my backside.

"Never mind."

The first set of classes went by without incident. The metal of the desk wasn't too bad on my bruised backside, so I didn't fidget all that much. Mr. Collins only had to get onto me once about it. It wasn't until the second class period of the day that something went wrong. And it wasn't with me.

"Mr. Collins, can I go use the bathroom, please?" Remmie asked.

"No, Remington. Stay in your seat until it's time to leave."

"But, sir, I really have to go," he sort of whined.

"You're not going anywhere. And if you piss on my floor, you'll be cleaning it up."

Remmie nodded, but didn't look all too sure of himself that he could hold it for another forty-five seconds, let alone that amount of time in minutes. Sure enough; not five minutes later, liquid could be heard running out and down on to the floor. Mr. Collins stopped the class for it.

"Get up, Remington," he said after deflating the balloon in his butt.

"Yes, Sir," he said, clearly embarrassed.

"Clean it up. Now, boy."

"Yes, Sir," he said, but then looked confused. Mr. Collins hadn't given him anything to clean it up with. "But…"

"What do you clean with?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Your tongue," he said simply. "Now, get busy."

All of us were stunned by that one. Remmie got down on his hands and knees, but only eyed the puddle he'd made. It took a shock from his collar and a couple of minutes writhing in pain before he complied in licking up his own urine.

Remmie may not have been in 'my group', but I felt sorry for him anyway. Not only did he have to slurp up his own piss, but he got three demerits; two for the accident and one for hesitating. He was significantly subdued when lunchtime came around.

At the firing range, he did poorly as well. Nelson was teaching us how to adjust the sites on the guns we were using. I tracked mine the wrong way the first time, but made up for it the second. By the end of the two hours, the small pistol I was using was perfectly sighted for me.

The other men met us in the general room again, but this time we just paired off and split up.

"Take a quick shower, Seth," he said, "you smell like gunpowder."

"Yes, Sir."

I took my shower and then we headed off to the fake dinning room again. He showed me the next two positions he wanted me to learn. The first one was a kneeling position, which was easy. I was to simply kneel down and sit back on the heels of my feet. My hands went on my thighs. I had to remember to also hold my head up and shoulders back.

"The last one is an inspection position," he said, once I'd mastered that one. "Stand up with your feet a little wider than your shoulders." I did as he said, looking down at my feet and then back up. "Hands behind your neck, with your elbows back as far as possible without going past your hands." I put them where he directed, and he wanted them farther back, so I did. "A little more." I did. "Head up, Seth." I complied.

He had me in that position for a long time, correcting me every time I moved my arms. I had to maintain perfect position without moving. After that, he took me through drills that reinforced what I'd learned of all the positions. When he was done, I'd cycled through them all at least five times.

"Well done, Seth," he said. "One merit for that."

"Thank you, Master," I answered back. He seemed to like being called that than called 'sir'. I just had to remember not to call him that or refer to him like that with the others.

"Now, get down on all-fours," he said finally.

I did as I was told and he knelt down next to me. He moved one hand to rest on my back. The other hand moved back to my butt, now down to just a dull ache, and began playing with the buttplug. He grabbed it and would pull it out a little, but then let it slide back inside me. Back and forth, he worked the plug along my anal muscle.

"UH!" I cried when, all at once, the plug was pulled out.

Powers didn't stop there. He worked it back inside to its widest point and held it there, making me feel it at its worst. I squirmed through the whole thing, but he kept it in its place. Finally, it was slurped back up inside me for the night. Now, not only were my buttcheeks sore, my hole was also, but I wasn't about to complain about it.

"Well, you made it through your lesson without any more marks," James commented as I walked into the common room.

"How observant of you," I retorted. "Glad to see you keep track of things going on with my butt."

James laughed with the others as we walked into the cafeteria together. I found out that Simon's trainer's name was Nash. And according to Simon, he wasn't mean, just demanding of him. Simon said he actually liked him.

"Seth probably wishes he could say the same thing about his trainer," Leon assumed.

"Definitely," I agreed. If I argued with them, they might think something was strange about Powers and myself, so I just went along with the conversation.

"Well, I found out Mr. Charles and I are from the same area in Chicago," Leon admitted.

"Sort of neighbors, then," James suggested.

"Something like that."

"So, you want to tell us what happened, Seth?" Mike asked.

"It was a cane," I told them. "Twenty times."

"Ouch," James commented.

"Ya think?" I asked him back. The others laughed along, but James turned a little serious.

"What I meant, was, that I got five of those from a teacher once. I know what they feel like."

We continued talking into the night there in the cafeteria. When we finally made our way back to get into bed, I checked the scores. Frighteningly, I was third, with only two points behind Jeff and five behind James. Remmie was now in total last place.

I knuckled down the next two days to get those points. James did poorly over those two days on the firing range. With my points from there, I moved ahead of him and only one point behind Jeff. Simon was somewhere in the middle, and unless a catastrophe occurred, he'd be staying out of the PR this week. Alex was close to the bottom, but not in any real danger of getting into trouble. Remmie had really dug himself into a hole. Scott and Philip, of all people, were battling it out for tenth place. My money was on Philip. Scott was never one that impressed me with any intelligence.

On that Thursday, Simon and I moved on to the next handgun, which was a larger one; a nine-millimeter semi-automatic pistol. This one was a real gun. I just remembered my lessons and fired at the target. By the day's end, I nailed the center of the target nineteen out of twenty times with the larger gun. And gained another point of merit in the process.

Friday morning's tests were fairly easy. I was done with them faster and anyone else, excluding James. I knew it wasn't about speed, but accuracy. Either way, I knew I'd done well on them. Lunch was normal, but I was sort of on edge. I really was curious about my grades.

After the language studies, we were taken to the firing range for our tests there. I passed it with flying colors. All twenty shots were dead-on in the center. I had to laugh, because James was horrible at shooting. It was nice to know he was actually human, too.

Following the test on the range, we were led back to the general workout room. All of our individual trainers were there waiting for us. We lined up before them. Jones stepped out to address us.

"Okay, today's fight is a group battle. You're going to be split up into two groups again, but this time, it'll be a little more mixed up. When I call your number, move to my left, your right.

"Numbers one, four, six, ten, eleven, and twelve. The rest go to my right."

Ben and Philip kind of groaned at having to be in the group with Simon, but I wasn't worried. Simon had been working hard this past week and was going to do everything possible to stay out of the PR. True, he was ahead in the points, and even a loss with this fight wasn't enough to set him back too badly, but I still wasn't too sure he was going to lose.

"I've got an idea, guys," I said, once we were to the side.

"Okay, let's hear it," Philip asked, while glancing at Simon; concerned.

I looked at Simon first.

"Okay, Simon, you know that Bull's going to be coming for you, don't you?" Simon nodded. "Do you think you can keep him busy for a little while?"

"I think so," he said, but was a little worried, himself.

"Then keep him busy for as long as you can." I then turned to Jeff. "I think James is going to come after you. Stay as close to Simon as you can. I know you can handle James. Take him down as fast as possible."

"Not a problem."

"When you're done, help Simon with Edweirdo." They sort of snickered and Jeff nodded.

"From there, it's going to be kind of sketchy."

"What do you mean?" Ben asked.

"I'm not sure who James is going to have going up against who, but I think he'll assign Alex to me."

"You're letting him tell us who to fight?" Jeff asked.

"Only because I don't think he knows what he's doing. Remember, he's the one that is going to be coming after you."

"Oh yeah," Ben said, remembering the last 'fight'.

"I can take Alex, but the rest are going to have to keep the others busy until help arrives." They all nodded. "We good?"

They nodded again. Simon was nervous, but I chucked him on the shoulder for luck. He smiled, trying to calm himself down. We broke from our huddle and waited for the word. James had indeed been giving orders to the others. They broke from theirs. The twelve of us waited for the signal from Jones.

Even before Jones said anything I knew I was right in my assessment. Bull was looking right at Simon; a given. But James was eyeing Jeff and Alex was giving me a hard look, too. I still wasn't too sure of the others, yet, but I didn't have to wait long to see how things line up.

"GO!" And it was on.

I moved a little away from Simon and just before Alex arrived to take me on, I tripped Bull, causing him to crash to the mat. That had two effects; one, giving Simon the help he needed, and two, it distracted Alex for a split second. I took advantage of that and punched him as hard as I could right in the mouth. With three weeks of working out behind me, muscle had begun to firm up and his nose began spouting blood faster than ever.

He wasn't going to let just one hit take him out, though, and tried to hit back, but he was seeing stars and missed on two attempts. I eluded the swings, and nailed his diaphragm, stealing the air from his lungs. One more connection to his mouth, and he was begging for it to stop.

I didn't wait. I turned right to the Bull/Simon fight. Simon was actually holding his own. Jeff had just taken out James as well. We looked at each other and smiled as we both jumped on Bull. Bull's fist made a lucky hit and got me in the jaw, but Jeff covered my momentary daze with a punch of his own. Simon closed in and took him by surprise with a hit to the stomach. Two more punches from Jeff and one more from both Simon and me, and Bull was done.

We turned and looked at the rest to see who to help. Leon had just taken out Ben, but he had a problem. Mike had made a final working of Scott and Remmie had just surrendered to Philip. The five of us just looked at Leon.

"Oh shit," he said, looking back at us. We just smiled. "No way; I give!"

"You niggers give up way too quickly," I chided him as I walked over to him. He laughed and we hugged.

"Hey! Even niggers can count. I knew it was eight on one."

The group shared another laugh at Leon's expense and then lined up before Jones and the other instructors. Simon was almost impossible to hold down.

"You six did real well," he said, beginning. "I wouldn't have picked you to win, but you did. Well done." I got a quick wink from Powers as he was standing in front of me. I smirked back. I was also kind of hard to settle down after that win.

"Now, the test scores," Collins said, and began reading them off to us. I'd scored a ninety-six on one and a one hundred on another. Both Jeff and James had scored two one hundreds, but they weren't enough for James to pass me in the points. I'd taken second place and Jeff was still in line for first. But, we still had our lessons with our personal trainers to go through.

"Feeling pretty good about yourself right about now, aren't you?" Powers asked once we were in our room.

"Yes, Master," I said, working hard on not smirking.

"Today's lesson is going to be easy." I raised my eyebrows at that. 'Question?' I'd forgotten that doing that was my way of asking for permission to ask a question.

"No, Master, I was just surprised at getting an easy lesson."

"Oh, I see. Well, I figured I'd reward you for an excellent week."

"Yes, Sir; thank you, Sir."

He nodded and had me follow him into another room. The door we went through was across the dinning room from the door we usually enter through. I got another shock when I saw this new area. It was a plush bedroom.

In the middle of the room against the far wall was a huge four-poster bed. The linens on it looked to be softer than anything I'd ever seen. The rest of the room was decked out extremely nicely. Coming from an orphanage, I'd never seen anything this nice before.

"Wow," I commented. And then froze.

"Punishment position, Seth," he said, disappointedly.

"Yes, Sir," I answered.

I assumed the position and he took the cane to me for five hard licks. And my butt was just getting back to normal, too. Now, it had five fresh lines on it. Life just wasn't fair. The demerit wasn't going to hurt me in the points. I would have to royally screw up for anything to change that, but it was my butt that I was most concerned with.

"Now, I want you to get up on to the bed and lay on your back," he said after putting the cane away.

"Yes, Master," I answered automatically.

I climbed up onto the bed and turned over to lie on my back. I didn't know what to do with my hands in this situation, so I just let them rest at my sides. A few minutes later, Powers climbed onto the bed, stripped down to his underpants.

"Turn and look at me, Seth," he said lying down next to me. I did as he told me. "Have you ever played with your dick?" he asked, pointing down to my little wiener.

"No, Sir," I answered. I knew what he was talking about from some of the other kids in the orphanage.

"Well, today, you're going to learn why sex is enjoyed. For the duration of this little lesson, you may move however you wish, but remain lying on your back."

"Yes, Sir." I was deeply curious about sex and why it was so conversationalized. Why did all the other boys talk about it so much? Why were there talk shows devoted to this topic? I supposed that I was about to find out.

He motioned for me to roll back over. From there, he took over. Kisses were delivered to my young nipples, one at a time. He tracked all the way down my body, raining gentle kisses all the way. It felt good, but I was still missing the point of sex. Until he kissed the head of my dick.

My member jumped at the sensation of his lips touching the head.

"Ohhh," I hummed out loud, and then caught my mistake. My hands flew to my mouth.

"It's okay, Seth, you may voice your pleasures as well for this lesson," Powers told me.

"Thank you, Sir," I sighed, relieved.

He went back to my hardening dick and kissed down its length. I felt him move his hands to rest in the crack between my legs and then pressure them to move apart. I did as he was quietly insisting. His mouth then engulfed both of my family jewels in one quick motion.

"OHHH! Wow!" The feeling caused me to open my legs even wider and arch my back. It was the most wonderful feeling that I'd felt by far.

His tongue rolled them around in his mouth for a while before spitting them out. From there, though, the feelings increased as he vacuumed my boyhood next. I groaned out in ecstasy, having something that warm surround it. Involuntarily, my hands moved to his head and began running through his hair. The feelings were just so intense that I just didn't really know what I was doing. Then he began playing with my buttplug.

"OH, GOD," I cried as the widest point of the plug passed the anal membrane.

Euphoric highs kept hitting me until every nerve fiber in my body was standing on end and screaming. I screeched out in pure joy at the intense feelings. It was as if joy was something tangible that I could touch and feel. I'd never known that something could feel that good.

"How did that feel?" He asked, once I was calming down.

"There aren't words, Master," I answered, smiling at the memory.

We lay there resting for a few more minutes before I thought about what had just happened. I looked down at him in question.

"Yes?"

"Do you want me to do that to you, Master?"

"I'm not sure you can, Seth," he told me.

"But, do you, Sir?"

Powers thought about it, but declined.

"Not today, Seth. We'll work on all of that at a later time. This lesson was for you. Now that you know how it feels, you'll understand why it's done and done to you."

"Yes, Sir," I said. I wasn't disappointed, as I wasn't sure if I could do it for him.

My lesson ended faster than any of the others. So, I was back in the common area first. I got to watch a little television before they began filtering in. James, Leon and I laughed at the results of the fight at dinner that evening. But, James had a different look on his face; he'd changed a little. He also wasn't as brash as usual.

Jones handed out the rewards to me and Jeff. Jeff put his twelve into his box, again not touching one of them. I wondered if he still had the other dozen in there. I shared with our group, as James had done before. But I broke mine in half and took the other half to Remmie.

"What's this for?" he asked.

"To get the taste of piss out of your mouth," I replied. Even he laughed at the joke, but declined the candy.

"That's okay, Seth. I'd rather earn the bars. Thanks, though."

"You're sure?"

He nodded, so I took the half back from him. Scott went for his second round in the PR and Remmie went for his first. Something about Jeff caught my eye at that moment; a faint red line right around where his collar rested. He seemed okay with it, so I didn't say anything.

The next day, I slept in a little before greeting the morning. By the time I'd gotten up, everyone else was gone. No one was watching Saturday morning cartoons, which was odd. I had the fleeting thought that they'd abandoned me, but I heard some noises in the bathroom. So, I wasn't alone.

I headed into the room, mainly for my morning piss, but the noises weren't exactly normal. As I turned the corner from the sinks to the toilet area, I saw Simon sitting on the toilet and gagging on Bull's dick. From the looks of things, he certainly was not enjoying blowing the boy's cock.

Rage surged through me. I rushed Bull with everything I had, knocking him to the floor. But, I didn't stop there. I was on top of him and landed punch after punch after punch over as much of his body as I could connect with. He swung back, but I dodged his swings easily.

"You will NOT touch him again! You got that, you shithead?!" I screamed at him.

More punches connected with his face.

He tried to yell back at me, but I wasn't listening. I just kept hitting him time and time again. I do remember yelling back, but it was incoherent things.

"You fucking shitbag! Goddamn, fucking son of a whorefucker!" I just kept spouting off things that I'd heard on television and connecting them in different ways.

At some point in my assaulting, my collar began shocking me, but I barely even felt it. The surge got stronger, but I ignored it. Other people's shouts filled the room, but my ears tuned it all out. I only wanted to kill the kid lying under me. Something grabbed me around the waist at one point and began pulling me off Bull. I wiggled out of the grasp and continued pummeling the now unconscious kid.

It took a jolt of electricity, the likes of which I'd never thought possible from my collar, to get me to stop. The next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor of the bathroom, gasping for air. It was the first time that I was really aware of others around me.

Jones and Bull's trainer, a Mr. Smith, were over looking at the lump of flesh that was once Edward Ransom. James and Leon were kneeling next to me. Simon was still sitting on the toilet. The others were standing back as far away as possible.

Jones and Smith picked up Bull and ran him out of the area. I scowled as they left. Powers ran into the room as they exited. He looked at me and I knew I was in for it.

"Okay, what happened?" Jones asked.

Powers, Jones, and Smith were seated in the office we were in. Jones was behind the desk, Smith was to the left side, and Powers was to the right. All three of them had their attentions on me. I was standing in the relaxed pose before them, but I was still seething.

"Well?" Jones prodded.

I kept quiet.

"Answer him, Seth," Smith commanded.

He was pissed because his student was going to be out of action for a while. How long, we still weren't sure. The doctor was still checking him out in her office. Privately, I was hoping he had died.

"What does it matter? I know the penalty for fighting." I said it while looking him dead in the eye.

"It matters, because we have to know how to handle it, Seth," Jones said, calmly.

"Handle it? How do you mean?"

"What I mean, is, what reasons were there to do what you did to Edward? If you didn't have just cause to beat him like that, then the penalty is going to be worse than if you did. Now, why did you do it?"

I kept quiet again.

"ANSWER HIM, BOY!" Smith fairly shouted, getting even angrier.

"No, Sir," I said back to him.

"NO?"

"No," I stated flatly.

Smith was about to come unglued, but I was still so pissed off that I didn't care. As he was about to get out of his chair, Jones grabbed his wrist. Smith slowly, angrily sat back down.

"Why not, Seth?" Jones asked.

"I will not answer unless my master asks me himself or orders me to." I figured that they all knew who I would be referring.

All three of them were stunned by that answer. The reactions after that were interesting. Smith got even more red-faced, Jones still had his look of surprise, but Powers had a smirk on his face.

"Give the little shit to me for five minutes, Steve, I'll make him talk," Smith growled.

"That wouldn't do anyone any good, Nate," Jones said blankly.

Jones continued looking at me, judging the situation, I gathered. Time didn't move very fast in those few minutes. It seemed to stretch out like a long, agonizing test. Then Jones turned to Powers.

"He's your responsibility, Hank," Jones said to him. "I leave this in your hands."

"WHAT? That's it?" Smith almost screamed, standing up. "My kid was assaulted in the worse way, and you're letting his trainer handle it? What kind of shit is this?"

"Agent Jones," I said, cutting him off all of a sudden as he was about to answer.

"Yes, Seth?" He seemed amused that I would speak up right then.

"Why did you pick me for this program?"

"Because you had potential. You answered the right questions with the right answers, and you acted in a manner that I approved of."

"And why else?"

"I don't get what you're implying."

"Would you have taken me if I had said anything to anyone at the orphanage?"

Now he saw where I was going with this. Powers was also quite impressed; his face showed it. But I kept most of my attention on Jones; he seemed to be the one in charge of the others. Powers may be playing the part of my master, but Jones outranked him. Smith stopped his rampage as well.

"He's yours to handle, Hank," Jones said finally.

Powers nodded and motioned for me to follow him out of the office. We didn't talk the entire length of the hallway. It wasn't until we got into the fake dinning room and Powers sat down that he began talking.

"Okay, relax, Seth," he said and I took a deep breath. Over the past week when he started off with telling me to relax meant that I wasn't in trouble. "While we're here right now, you don't have to refer to me in a formal manner."

"Thank you, Sir, but I guess I'm okay with it now."

It took just a week's worth of hard training, but I was trying hard to accept my role in all of this. I knew there were things about all this that I didn't know, but I'd accepted at least parts of things. Plus, Powers had earned my respect during the course of this time, and that went a lot farther than anything else. I still wasn't too sure about whatever else was coming, but up to that point, I'd consented to my position and training.

"Very well, then," he said, smiling. "Now, tell me what happened in the bathroom with Edward."

I took another deep breath and told him all that I saw and experienced in that room. Everything from Simon and Bull to recovering on the tile floor afterward. The story took a few minutes to tell, but when it was over, I felt better. It wasn't that I was glad I'd done that to Bull, just getting the whole weight off my chest.

"What's going to happen to me, Master?" I asked when I was finished.

"From what you told me, I'd say Edward was at fault and you were taking up for Simon. I'll talk to Steve and we'll go from there. Don't worry about it for the rest of the weekend. I'll have him talk to Nathan about all that happened. I'm sure it'll be okay.

"But, why didn't you just tell him that in the office? It would have been fine to tell them."

"Because of the test that Agent Jones gave me back home. The first question asked how I would handle a situation like that. I answered that I would seek revenge on the person. That wasn't why I attacked Bull, but that was why I didn't tell them the story."

"I know the question you're talking about. I have to say that I am impressed with you. A lot." And he seemed it, too. "Now, let's get you back so you can try to enjoy the rest of the weekend."

I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Yes?"

"Do you know what they did to get me off him? All I know is that I was really dazed."

"From what Steve told me, after you squirmed out of his grasp-"

"-that was him?" I asked, interrupting. I stopped in horror; a definite no-no. A slave never interrupts his master. And I knew that. "I'm sorry, Master."

"I'll deal with it in a moment, slave," he said, significantly dark. "But, yes, it was Steve that was trying to get you off Edward. He said that he had to use the highest setting on the collar. You weren't stopping with anything else."

"I felt the collar, but it didn't hurt. Why did that happen?"

"Probably because you were so high on adrenalin that it didn't phase you. I've heard that can happen."

"Do you know how high he had it on before?"

"Seventh."

"Wow," I said to myself. I guess I was pretty pissed off not to feel that.

"Punishment position, Seth," he said gruffly.

"Yes, Master," I said, knowing I deserved it.

"Wait," he said as I assumed it. "I have a better idea."

I wasn't too sure I was going to like his 'better idea', but I followed him into the fake bedroom. He had me lie face-down on the bed with my arms stretched out towards the headboard. He took his place behind me at the foot of the bed. The faint whisper of the cane whistled through the air and made vertical contact with my right buttcheek. I gripped the covers of the bed at the pain and anticipation of the next hit. The second one landed on the left one. And he alternated back and forth with the cane until he had a total of ten vertical lines marking up my butt's skin.

When he was through, he led me back to the common area. Once I stepped through, I saw nine preteen heads swivel around to look at me.

"Oh, great," I commented. Powers motioned for me to go on and I did.

"Hi," I said as I entered the room properly. All they could do was laugh.

"So, what's going to happen?" James asked.

"With me or Bull?"

"Both."

"I don't know about Bull. As far as what's going to happen to me, Mr. Jones is going to talk to me about it on Monday."

"So, you've got a stay of execution," Mike offered.

"A what?" I asked.

"It means that they're not going to kill you till Monday," James explained.

"Yeah, something like that."

"Is Bull alright?" Simon asked.

"Why are you asking that question?" I asked, turning towards him with a bit of anger directed at him. "After what he was making you do, you should be glad he's in the doctor's office."

"I was just asking, okay?"

"No, it's not 'okay', Simon."

"What was he doing, anyway?" Mike asked.

I shot Simon a look.

"No one's asked," he said, shrugging.

"Well then, do you want to tell them, or should I?" Simon shrugged again. "Fine. He was forcing Simon to suck his dick. And he's probably been doing it for a while. Am I right?"

Everyone looked at Simon as he nodded bashfully.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Simon," James told him. "He was the one doing something wrong. Not you."

"Unless you wanted him to," I suggested.

"NO! I DIDN'T!" Simon screamed and jumped off the couch at me. I leaned over the back of the one that was in front of me to look him in the eye.

"I know you didn't, Simon, that's why I hit him," I said softly.

"You did more than that," James countered. Several snickers broke out from that.

"Then why did you just suggest that I wanted him to do that?"

"Because the next time he does it, I want you to remember that and handle it yourself. I'm not going to stop it again. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it," he answered, in a more thankful manner.

"Good."

I turned and headed into the cafeteria for something to eat.

"What happened there?" James asked.

"Huh?" I asked, and then saw where he was looking.

"Looks like a checker board," Mike suggested. Several more giggles there.

"I'm glad everyone can make fun of my butt," I said with a smirk. "But, to answer you, James, I forgot something when I was with Mr. Powers."

"Is that all he does is hit you?" Alex questioned.

"No." And I wouldn't say anything more about it.

While Bull was in the doctor's office and Remmie was in the PR, we had some fun. For the morning, it was playing in the pool. That afternoon, we hit the weight room for a while, and then the common area for some television. Remmie rejoined us that evening for dinner.

"You should have been here, Remmie," Ben started when he sat down for dinner.

"Yeah, well, I was busy," he retorted. After the laughter died down, he asked why.

"Because Seth beat the shit out of Edweirdo. It was great."

"I'm glad someone enjoyed it," I commented to my group, accompanied by the usual sniggers.

"He was like a madman, going off on the guy," Philip added. "Not even getting shocked from the collar would stop him."

"That reminds me," James asked, "what setting did Mr. Jones use on you, anyway? Because whatever he was using, it didn't work until he hit the highest one."

"Mr. Powers told me that they tried the seventh setting first."

"No way," Scott put in.

"That's what he said," I told him with a shrug.

The whole group was as stunned as I was when Powers told me.

The conversation then went through everything that had happened for Remmie's benefit. Everyone turned in at about nine or so, but I was kind of concerned about the next few days. It took some time before I slipped into dreamland.

Bull didn't return the next day, either. I wondered if I had actually killed him. The whole day was fairly depressing for me. That night was also subdued, trying to get to sleep, knowing that tomorrow, my fate would be decided.

"Good Morning," Collins said as he opened the doors to the cages. I crawled out to see his too-chipper face. "Everyone line up, please." We did as we were told. "Now, everyone but Seth turn and follow me to breakfast."

"Oh, wonderful."

All of them turned to file out, except Simon.

"You too, Simon," he said, seeing him facing the same direction as me.

"I'm staying. Seth's in trouble because he was sticking up for me."

Now, this was something interesting. Simon had definitely changed. Normally, he wouldn't be doing something like this.

"Me too," James added. "Bull was wrong in doing that. I'm staying too." James turned back to stand the way he was previously.

One by one, every one of them turned back to stand in line. Even Scott and Jeff stayed. To say I was touched would have been an understatement. All of them were risking Collins's ire by doing it, not to mention electric shocks, but they did it anyway.

Collins didn't say anything, but he didn't make them do anything, either. He just waited with us for whatever came down. We didn't have to wait long. Jones walked in the room a few minutes later, with Smith trailing along behind him.

"Oh shit," was the only thought that went through my preteen mind right then.

"What's going on?" Jones asked Collins as he took his place before us.

"The rest of them are volunteering to stay and share in Seth's punishment," Collins explained.

"Oh, I see," Jones said, amused. "Well, with the circumstances being what they are, I'm sorry, but I can't allow this. So, you boys have a choice. Either go with Mr. Collins to class, or crawl there in agony."

"Go on, guys," I said. I didn't want them to suffer because of me. "I'll be fine." They all looked at me and I nodded to reassure them. I looked Simon square in the eye and nodded especially.

They had their doubts, but turned towards Collins and left the room. I took another deep breath as the door closed behind them. Jones and Smith turned towards me once the room was empty.

"Well, that was certainly interesting," Jones stated. Yep.

"Get on with it, Steve," Smith told him. Jones gave him a look that froze him solid.

"We do have a problem now, don't we?" Jones asked, turning his attentions to me.

"We do?" I asked back to him.

"Okay, you do. And keep comments like that to yourself, Seth." I nodded that I would. "Good. Now, you've displayed a lot qualities that typify what we're looking for in one of our operatives; strength, loyalty, discretion, and tenacity."

I only understood about half of that little speech. But, I didn't interrupt. I wasn't sure where he was going with this, yet. I wanted to find that out before I said anything.

"But," he said, continuing, "we can't have you guys fighting all the time."

"We do every Friday now."

"That's different, Seth. That's in a controlled environment where a trainer can stop it if things get out of hand, like they did with you and Edward."

"So, what should I have done, then? Just let him continue doing what he was doing?"

"No; you should have come and told one of us."

"And it would have been his word against mine."

"Plus, the boy, Simon's word," Smith threw in.

"Simon was scared of him. He wouldn't have stood up to him."

"I'm not here to debate the issue with you, Seth," Jones said, getting a little irritated, "I'm here to tell you of my decision." He took a breath to settle himself back down again.

"For the next four weeks, you'll take the place of the person spending Friday night in the punishment room, as if you were second-to-last place. And should you place anything lower than sixth, you'll take the twelfth person's place and be in there all day Saturday.

"Also, each week will get progressively worse, as if you actually earned the punishment through your points. Any questions?"

"No, Sir," I said, a bit dejected. I was working towards never spending any time in that room. I guess I was about to find out what the others had experienced beforehand. And why Simon acted so differently after the second time.

"When the four weeks are over, though, it'll be reset. In other words, if you do actually place eleventh or twelfth, it'll be as if you never went in there."

I nodded that I understood and then he sent me on to breakfast. Everyone looked at me, but I didn't say a word about anything Jones had told me. James asked, but I declined to answer. I wasn't about to give anyone any added incentive to do better. I didn't think they would do it out of viciousness, but the temptation to take advantage of my situation would be there.

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