Date: Wed, 1 Mar 2017 11:00:32 -0500
From: Bear Pup <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Turntable Rehabilitation Services 8

Please see original story
(www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/turntable-rehabilitation-services/)
for warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights
reserved. Included dominant/submissive, BDSM and coercive sex between
men. Go away if any of that is against your local rules. Practice safer sex
than my characters. Write if you like but I will write you into the nasty
bits of a future story if you flame me. Donate to Nifty **TODAY** at
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

*****

"Suck it up, boy, literally. Use your tongue and lips, Pee-Pee Boy, but you
want to make damn sure it's clean. There are worse things that anal
orgasms..." It takes me perhaps 15 minutes, lapping and slurping up a
mixture of my sweat, my cum, and my constantly-dripping tears. Train Wreck
is finally satisfied and yells, "Runner!" I am barely aware and can look at
nothing but the floor that I'd so recently been licking. "Code 73764. And
he reeks. Get him hosed before lunch, please."

***** Turntable Rehabilitation Services 8: Taking a Break

By Bear Pup

M+;

[Author's Note: Pee-Pee Boy is going to take a short holiday. I'm tired of
listening to him whine, but we can't just leave him in limbo, now can
we...?]

Train Wreck is right, my stench even offends my own nose. Runner takes me
to a new door. Inside is a tiled expanse, easily larger than any gym or
YMCA I've ever seen. There are showerheads and hoses along the walls. In
the centre is a huge metal grate. Runner takes me over to the grate and
attaches my wrist restraints to something hanging just above.

He kicks my feet apart and moves behind where I can't see him. I sigh in
relief when he pulls out the ass-pacifier. Suddenly, something icy cold
grabs my balls and I squeal. He moved away and whatever it is, a cold,
heavy metal ring of sorts, freezing against my sensitive nuts leaving me
breathless. I groan out long and at just the wrong time. Without warning of
any kind, my nuts are WRENCHED downwards. I don't have the breath to scream
and hear a click as Runner clips something between the ball-buster and the
grate.

I can't stand straight, but the wrist restraints prevent me from
crouching. I twist and contort looking for a comfortable position. There is
none. I am about to weep with the effort when my arms and nuts become the
least of my worries.

I shriek as a blast of icy water hits me, playing up and down my body. I
twirl with the force of it, wrenching my nuts harder than ever. When the
spray hits my distended sac, my screams are actually louder than the cold
rush of water.

Just as suddenly, it stops.

I am sobbing, hanging from my aching shoulders, I am given no real
respite. Runner is now holding what looks for all the world like a
weed-sprayer or power-washer. It is, horribly, more of the latter. A thick,
soapy foam erupts from the tip, driving into every crevice of my
body. Runner spends a lot of time on my ass crash and hole, and I can feel
the water penetrating into my canal. His work on my pits is
equally-thorough, but he spends a long and brutal time on my nuts.

A freezing rinse comes next and I am exhausted, barely conscious. A loud
beeping rings from Runner's tablet and he sets the spray-hose aside. I hang
and pant. Runner enters some info, some sort of acknowledgement. He looks
at me like he's a boy who thought he'd finished cleaning his room only to
have Mom point out the mess in the closet.

Runner moves to the other side and takes out another sprayer. He comes
behind me and my face is suddenly covered with a black, form-fitting,
hard-plastic mask. I can feel him buckle it place. I find that I can
breathe through my nose as air is forced in.

I feel the new spray, gentle and foamy, starting at my scalp and covering
every part of me other than my mask-covered face. It feels slimy,
itchy. Slowly, it builds from mild warmth to squirming wand finally to
crawling, burning, scraped-raw sensations. I am unable to scream as the
mask holds my mouth shut tight, but long to do so.

The icy cold and powerful hose is almost -- almost -- welcome as it seems
to rip the slime away, taking what feels like a layer of skin with
it. Finally, a shockingly-soothing mist comes into play before the mask
comes off.

I feel the agonising chain that ties my nuts to the grate disengage just as
my wrist restraints drop form the bar. I lay in a crumpled heap, nearly
unable to think. I feel Runner attach a lead to my now-coupled wrists and
find the energy to stumble upright at his insistence. I stagger behind him,
not knowing or caring where I will end up next.

Before I really know what's happening, I am standing, braced around the
waist, in a dimly lit area facing a concrete wall a couple of feet away.

I jump with that sinister voice at my ear. "Well, Pee-Pee Boy, welcome to
your vacation home. We've decided to interrupt your planned rehabilitation
programme as we check some of the... unique readings we've gotten,
especially after Train Wreck's report. Don't worry, though, you won't be
bored."

I look down and see that I am held upright by a loop that comes out like a
bubble-blower from the wall, encircling my waist. Remarkably comfortable
pads hold me in place with no chafing or rubbing at all. My arms are
attached to leads that run upwards, leaving my hands roughly at head
level. I can feel my ankles are spread perhaps a foot further than
shoulder-width, making standing perfectly comfortable if a bit stretched. I
look down to see is I can see them and shout in alarm.

Every single hair is missing. My chest, pits, belly -- utterly smooth,
devoid of everything. "That's right, Pee-Pee Boy, we've gotten rid of all
that hair. Men have hair, Pee-Pee Boy, so what would the use be to have any
on something like you? Don't worry, though, it will itch like *crazy* as it
comes back. Oh. I know you can see it, but you might feel some chill around
your clit? You are in a cock cage as you really won't need to come for the
foreseeable future. An oh MY won't it feel special when the hair starts
growing *there*."

A light flashes above me and I see a sign has come to life on the wall
above. 'Please Tease the Animal'. I open my mouth to scream and a mask
similar to the one in the shower is suddenly there. A tube sticks into my
mouth, cutting off any further noise and earplugs cut everything off but
the sound of that fucking queer's voice.

"That tube will give you the food and water you require. Tip. Breathe
through your nose. Oh, and whenever someone wants to give you instructions,
they'll speak into the microphone like I'm doing now. I would suggest that
you listen closely, Pee-Pee Boy, and do your best to cooperate. It won't
make your life better, but perhaps a teensy bit less horrible?

"One last note. To get you started since there aren't a lot folks using
this hallway so early in the day, I've worked up a special present just for
you. This little vibrating butt plug is a lot smaller than the ones you've
been using, but the addition of itching powder should more than make up for
the lack of girth. Goodbye, Pee-Pee Boy, and have a nice... well, however
long you're here."

I feel the plug enter me. I can't scream. I can't curse. Tears just make
the mask slide around. And then my universe becomes a tingle at my
asslips... then a tickling, then a prickle, then a screaming, desperate
itch that I would sell my soul to stop.

<eof>

I am taking a break from this series for a while. It has always been way
outside my comfort zone, even with the wondrous ideas that several of you
sent me. Please feel free to keep feeding me ideas on Pee-Pee Boy's
rehabilitation for when I circle back to the story line.

*****

Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay...
Karl & Greg: 17 chapters .../incest/karl-and-greg/
Canvas Hell: 15 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/
Beaux Thibodaux: 7 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/
The Heathens: 7 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/
Mud Lark Holler: 6 chapters .../rural/mud-lark-holler/

On hiatus starting 01 Mar 2017: Turntable Rehab: 8 chapters
.../authoritarian/turntable-rehabilitation-services/