https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/against-the-machine/

by Riley Jericho

CHAPTER ONE
by Riley Jericho
rileyjericho@yahoo.com

The attending Care-Giver glanced around the spacious room at his charges
that formed group M-9985201.12 (12 being the number of Male patients, put
together in group identifier 9985201). There didn't have to be twelve, but
he certainly preferred not to have many more than that in one go. Over his
years in this role he had processed many such groups and, no doubt, there
would be many more - though if plans for his future worked as he was
hoping, those ones might be under someone else's care.

This particular group didn't know he was there yet and he moved quietly to
his master console and studied the readouts on M-9985201.12.

This particular room - the Treatment Room - was clean and futuristically
equipped, but quite functional and clinically stark compared to some in
this sizeable establishment. It wasn't really a big place either and,
despite the name, didn't really have any particular odour to it that would
shout `hospital!'. It was simple, warm, clean, white and bright; although
the lighting levels could be manipulated if the Attendant cared to - just
like the people were being manipulated in front of his eyes.  Just now, the
room was quiet, though it was unlikely to remain that way for long.

The hapless twelve lay supine, each on their individual couches, without a
shred of clothing covering their bodies and secured there by arm and leg
restraints. Each couch provided simple monitoring functions for its
occupant and he could see from the readouts that most were just coming
round from the enforced unconsciousness. At that moment they were still
disorientated and he could see a few heads twisting from side to side where
they lay, trying to make some sense of their surroundings.

They had actually been in the facility for several days, but the last thing
they would remember would probably be the Courtroom just after they
received their sentence. And then nothing...until now.

About 30 minutes earlier he had overseen bringing the twelve unconscious
occupants of these couches from the surgical section to this, the Treatment
Room, and had arranged them into the places he had pre-assigned. This was
primarily a younger group of mid to late teens - that is with the
exceptions of young boy, Noah, and also the man in his 30's who, according
to his notes, was here of his own accord. He posed no threat and in fact
the Attendant had specifically picked him out of the secondary listings and
added him to this quota. From experience he knew such an adult in a group
like this brought a calming influence, which could really help.

Finally all were awake and, as the grogginess dissipated, the sense of
disquiet grew, though the silence was still maintained. None of them
realised he was there until he pressed a key on his console. Several
started in surprise as, seemingly of its own accord, each couch began to
move to take up the position he required. At the same time the lighting
levels came up.

As the backrest began to raise them to the sitting position, there were
mutters of dismay as, for the first time, they saw the Treatment Room
properly and knew it for what it was.

They would be attempting to piece it together in their heads, he knew. They
would remember that they had been in a courtroom where this particular
sentence had been pronounced. Perhaps they hoped there would be time and
opportunity to change the course that had been set? Maybe, if they had a
good lawyer, they had hoped there would still be time to wriggle away;
opportunity to negotiate or get some kind of stay of execution of the
Court's decision? To suddenly awake in this particular room and to look
down on themselves and realise that the surgical modifications had already
been completed without them even knowing would be a complete shock!

`Wait! I'm not ready!' they would be shouting in their heads. "This is a
mistake! Fuck - can't we talk about this?"

And those same heads began to turn rapidly as they saw others caught in
this same trap as themselves -- bound naked and helpless to the
couches. Some stared down at their own bodies and then at those nearby to
see the smooth skin and the same flash of metal that indicated that they
had already been surgically prepared.  And then they saw the Attendant too,
and the fear that spread was palpable. He could see it rippling in waves
around the room. He could almost taste it, though that gave him no sense of
satisfaction.

Many of them were struggling now - straining at the bonds that captured
them, fully aware of exactly where they were, and what was intended for
them in this place. Most were terrified -- and maybe they had every right
to be. The reason was simple and the implications profound; they were about
to be joined to The Machine and, whatever people claimed, none survived
that unchanged.


Once an individual found him or herself in the Treatment Room and made
ready for the Machine, how long would it take?

Once they were connected, his average was 15 minutes. Not long at all
really, but he knew it could feel like a lifetime for those already pulling
at the restraints round about him.

He walked slowly down the middle of the room. If he didn't have their
attention before, he certainly did now and 24 eyeballs were locked on to
him, though still not a word passed their lips. Finally, as he reached the
last couch, one finally broke and, with a voice that was dry and edgy,
screeched at him.

"Fuck you, Gringo. You let me out of this now, and maybe I won't slit your
throat tomorrow!"

The Attendant noted him as he had passed by the end of his couch. He was
one of the Hispanics, an 18 year old street-wise, lifetime trouble maker,
and one of the eldest of the group of twelve. What was unsurprising was
that he had ended up in this room. What was a minor miracle was that it had
taken so long to get here! The Attendant usually got the Hispanic guys, as
he spoke fluent Spanish. Not that it was usually needed, as personal
conversation didn't rate highly in this place - though he'd learned some
quite colourful phrases over the last years!

As if that first threat had emboldened them all, swearing and expletives
gathered apace and seared the air around the room.  Of course, they were
angry and maybe they had right to be; bitterly angry that the rest of
society had singled them out to be sent here; angry at him as the one who
would press the button on them. But most of all they were scared...really
scared, as the reputation of the Machine was well known.

Disbelief in the power of Machine evoked plenty of bravado and many (at
least at a safe distance from the gates to this establishment) held the
firm belief that they would somehow be different from everyone else. They
could never be taken and there was plenty of stuff out there that gave
'unbeatable expertise' of how to cheat it; hundreds of articles written by
hotheads explaining how they would or had resisted and fooled it to somehow
escape its grip intact.

It made him smile.

Everyone resisted - some even successfully for a while - but always, as
with the thousands he had seen being modified in this way, he knew without
doubt that to a man (or woman), everyone succumbed. And those that claimed
they had taken it on and foiled it were liars and had never felt the
irresistible mating of the umbilical to the surgically embedded ring, or
the demonic caress of the Machine as it began to overwhelm them.

Slowly he passed through the group once more. After the initial outburst,
they had mostly gone quiet as if fearing it would land them in even greater
trouble. Every head tracked with him and he took stock of them once more. A
few thugs; some here for sex crimes; mostly the usual breed that ended up
here. Except the older guy and young Noah who were a bit different of
course.

And what was `here'?

'Here' was a prison of sorts - maybe better called a 'correctional
facility', although time and political correctness now described this place
as a 'Centre for Emotional Wellness'. Well-spun government PR kept the
public (as if they cared anyway) in the happy belief that what was done
within these walls was only for the long-term good of the patients (a more
pleasant term than prisoner).

Actually, for many it could be surprisingly true; life might well be
better. But the majority were not here by choice, and were being detained
here for some misdemeanor at the request of a judge, who had decided they
had some problem that could and would be dealt with; those particular
individuals being offered (with or with out their consent) a better and
more fulfilling life.

But, however you looked at it, they were still inmates and this was
correctional treatment.

In the old days, young men who fell foul of the law had been placed in
prisons and other long-term correctional institutions, but there were very
few of those around anymore. Why? The reality was that those old fashioned
methods were unbelievably expensive and, in the end, did nothing much to
change negative behaviour. In fact, often the opposite occurred; some young
guy put away for a few months for a minor misdemeanor could, through peer
pressure and less than perfect role models, end up spending most of his
life in and out of those facilities.

It was costly and useless.

Whatever people said about the physical alterations that took place here,
they were relatively minor. The rather radicle circumcision of course,
followed by the implanting of the collar and the biotechnology nerve sleeve
under the skin that surrounded the full length of the shaft. This tried and
tested technology was fairly simple and none of it was dangerous or life
threatening -- although, through those alterations, irrevocable change
would be achieved.

The technology for everything that happened here had been around for some
time and, in fact, bizarrely, it had begun with sex!

In the last century, science had conquered the junction between flesh and
the inanimate; the marrying together of man-made materials and human flesh
to develop a nanotechnology that could integrate with the body on a
cellular level with no fear of rejection - deftly sidestepping the human
body's natural cellular reaction to eliminate the foreign intruder. In
time, the potential of the technology was explored and fully developed into
useful practice, allowing the lame to walk again and the blind to see once
more.

The researchers made even more breakthroughs when they discovered how to
apply the theories of nanotechnology to connect to the tissues of the human
brain; nanotechnology referring to a technology of being able to work with
materials small enough to fit in and around human cells. Implementing this
nanotechnology, Bio-Fibers were constructed that were part micro computer
and part human flesh; specialized tissue that could literally be trained to
grow into the body and splice into the existing nervous system.

The scientists, of course, only had good intentions at heart...to help
people. It was what had made sight reconstruction a possibility as
researchers experimented growing tiny filaments of the Bio-Fibers that they
had developed; introducing them into the eye socket and, guided by
computers, directing their growth directly into the brain to successfully
synchronise with the nerve plexus where visual data was processed. Once
this newly grown nerve connection was in place, it was simple to add a
small camera into the eye socket itself and for the brain to receive images
from there. It was a bit ropey at first but, for their own reasons,
billions in funding got poured in by the military and the technology
improved rapidly.

It came down to a bored young university graduate who first began to
seriously check out the less esoteric outcomes of the technology as he
explored both pleasure and pain to pinpoint exactly how the brain dealt
with those and also with the emotions that went with them.

Quickly deciding that there was not much future in pain, he wired up
endless mice and fried most of their brains before perfecting access to the
specific part of the brain's cortex that dealt with pleasurable feelings.

In particular - sexual pleasure.

He successfully progressed to monkeys and, because nobody else was willing
to risk it, finally went the whole hog and grew the Bio-Fibers into his own
central nervous system to join with the now, well-understood,
cortico-sensory pleasure tract. For publicity reasons, he wrote papers
calling it "The Pleasure Zone!" and struck gold. This was almost 50 years
ago now. Sadly he had overloaded in one experiment, but had died
exceedingly happy!

Others took up the baton, and money poured in and, not surprisingly, the
"Pleasure Zone" found market interest in a proliferation of new-style sex
toys!

That made a lot of people happy, though the government and the armed forces
had a slightly less humanitarian interest in the technology. For them, the
potential for hard wired access the human brain - and to that more
indefinable entity "the mind", was high on their agenda - mostly so they
could strip it of its secrets!

For centuries the Human Race had tried to perfect ways of breaking into a
person's mind against the will of that individual. It was called
torture. And, whilst the world got giddy with a new range of sex toys, it
was the military that took the technology forward and pioneered the process
of breaking the locks and removing the barriers to give unhindered access
to both take and to plant whatever they chose into a subject's mind.

In this developing technology, they also realised the clear connection
between pain and pleasure though, staying true to form, they initially
focused on the former with their unfortunate subjects.  Finally, a group of
slightly more intelligent army scientists understood that pleasure could
unlock the gates of the mind just as effectively...and even leave the
individual sane at the end of the day!

The bio-science was fast tracked and the Bio-Fibers were integrated with
nanite robots - cell sized computer entities that could swarm and act as a
collective and could quickly and safely be grown deep into the central
nervous system. The technique was simple enough and, as they perfected it,
the process could be completed in a matter of days rather than months.

Once 'wired' into the subject like this, computers could probe the mind
and, by stimulating the pleasure tracts of the cortex, were able to
simulate all kinds of ecstasy.

Apart from offering their subjects a good time (whether they wanted one or
not), it was found to be the key to the critical disengaging of the
individuals's control over themselves. The keystone to this disengagement
was compulsion. Compelled to do something remarkably simple in the end --
to willingly say `yes'. Because, in the right circumstances, if the mind
gives in and says `YES' to one thing, it could be quite hard to say NO to
another.


The compulsion employed for this was also simple, and as old as the hills.

Ejaculate.

But it was far deeper than just causing an individual to have an
orgasm. Even in those early days there were stacks of quite effective tools
that could fully guarantee a man squirted on command, even if he didn't
plan to, or actually even want to! No, the key to the compulsion was that
the subject needed to be brought to the point where rather than resisting
orgasm, he became desperate for it and fully welcomed it fully. And as he
welcomed it, for that briefest period of time, a wide range of subconscious
barriers were lowered. That was the moment that the mind probes waited for
and took advantage of and, unexpectedly for the hapless individual, he
found himself then saying yes to anything else the computer probes
required.

The military were pretty happy with that, although it was still limited,
and they wanted more. It was OK for a one time entry into an individual
mind, to sift through and take what they wanted but, as soon as the probes
withdrew, the barriers reformed. At that point they found that to
subsequently open up a subject again was time consuming, and much harder
the second time. Additionally they wanted to mentally condition individuals
with different objectives and they wanted the individual to remain under
their control permanently. But there was the problem that most of the
conditioning performed tended to be temporary if there wasn't regular
reinforcement.

They wanted one final solution, because the pot of honey at the end of the
rainbow was permanent access. And finally they got it.

They got it by creating a way to physically re-engineer the way the brain
transferred data.

The concept was simple.

Imagine a single neural pathway through which information is passing up and
down; a road that is accessing a part of the central nervous system and
through which the brain controls the body. But the problem is, it has a
gate half way down it, which the owner can close at will to deny access.

Previously, the only way through was to smash the gate -- only to discover,
when travelling that route again, that it had been reformed by the
owner. So, instead of trying to negotiate the gate every time, the military
neuro- scientists perfected a technique of destroying the old road
completely and building a new one.

And this one had no gate, and the road belonged to them and them alone.

It was called Synaptic Remodeling.

With the Remodeling completed, the individual often had little inkling
anything had changed...other than a temporary headache...and, oh yes, the
total loss of the ability to say `NO' ever again to requests by whoever now
owned that highway! They could be conditioned and reconditioned at will to
accept whatever personality and values needed to be programmed into
them. The whole mind could be re-engineered if desired.

Finally, as is often he case with these things, the costs of the technique
dropped such that it wasn't only the military that could afford it. The
national legal system began to think it was a good idea too, as a way of
dealing with persistent offenders. And, in the intervening half-century,
the technology and techniques had developed hugely. Conditioning that had
taken weeks, could now be achieved in a few short days.

Gradually, the old prison system was phased out and replaced by facilities,
like this one where men and women (and even boys and girls) could be simply
reprogrammed and returned to society, rather than housed for years on end,
in expensive lockups.

It seemed to work, and was definitely a lot cheaper than life imprisonment!

The Attendant looked around the room. Today's twelve were all held
securely, each one bound to one of the restraining couches on which they
would now remain until the full re-engineering process was completed; a
process that took 4 or 5 days.

During the final couple of days, they would be able to get up and enjoy
being outside, socializing with others to start the road down their changed
worlds, but would return to the couch each night to be reconnected to the
Machine. This could go on for for extended periods of time though which the
Machine would finalise the conditioning it was imposing; up to the point
where it had decided they were ready.

Having got their attention, the Attendant began to make the final
preparations for the procedure.

This was a fairly modern facility and the couches were the newer floating
type, an electromagnetic technology that made things so much easier! They
floated around a metre off the ground and could be programmed to follow
him, or even be sent off on their own, to whatever destination he chose. He
preferred them to the old style beds that needed pushing and pulling. It
used to be a complete pain, especially when you had to manually connect
them into the lift mechanism that would store the couch, and it's owner, in
the holding bays; storage rooms containing efficient stacks of beds, with
their unconscious occupants, all plugged in and being conditioned as they
slept; oblivious to what was being done to them.

Here in the Treatment Room, the backrest of the couch was now set so that
each patient was sitting partially upright; enough to see what was going on
with themselves and the other patients.

Different Attendants did different things. Some just left the patients
flat, connected them to the umbilical and went off to read a book, not
really caring how they were doing. But they were officially called
'Care-Givers', and he for one felt much more of a responsibility to show
that care than just sit and read a novel.

Anyway, few could match his 15 minute average.

Standing now roughly in the middle of the two rows of couches, he began to
speak, turning ever so often to try to make eye contact with each one
individually. Not wanting to frighten the young boy, Noah, he chose his
words carefully.

"I realise that the majority of you don't want to be here, but your
transfer to this facility has been the decision of the court," he
began. Maybe they were surprised to hear his voice, but there was no
response to his words. He glanced briefly at the older guy, Jack Clifford,
who unusually, was here by choice.

"I'm also fully aware of the full reasons the court decided you should be
here, but I'm not here to judge you, I'm here to help you through this
process."

"Fuck you!" screamed Carlos, the Hispanic teen, finding his tongue at last.

The Attendant ignored him for the moment.

"I'm sure most of you know about the Machine and what the process is
about. It goes without saying that not everyone finds this easy, but try to
stay relaxed and not fight it and it will be much easier."

Saying that, he knew that everyone fought and everyone struggled. It was
instinctive.

"As you can already see, a special implant has been embedded into you penis
and this is the point where a connection will be made that will allow the
process to run and fully complete in you. If you have anything you want to
ask me, do so as I come round, but I suggest we just get on with this so
it's completed as soon as possible now."

There was no need to say any more. All those here -- except perhaps Noah --
would know exactly what the Machine was programmed to do, so with that he
moved towards the first patient he would mate via the umbilical.

He had come to realise that the positioning of the couch was crucial at
this stage in the process. Over the years he'd experimented with both flat
and various degrees of incline and found it much more effective the second
way, especially with men and boys. To have them actually watch -- and to
have others watch them - as they were personally mated to the Machine and
then find themselves helpless to stop the inevitable and very personal
erection that followed, was often enough to initiate the disintegration of
their mental blockade.

Sitting up also meant that they couldn't really avoid seeing what was
happening with the others, and to that purpose they were all gathered quite
close together. To be forced to observe others finally succumb to the
compulsion and to the orgasm that was waiting for them, weakened those that
remained.

Arrayed along the room at regular intervals, but set out from the wall a
couple of metres, were a series of posts. Each couch rested near a
post. The post housed the hard-wired connection to the Machine -- the
umbilical - as well as patient monitoring equipment. There was additional
computer access built in to control and enhance the process if needed. For
the most part it was fully automatic, but the Attendant was also quite
experienced and would often guide the Machine as needed. From each post
that was currently in operation this morning, the umbilical rested, ready
to be snaked out to where the patient sat waiting.

He moved to the first one and began lowering the stirrups.

The side stirrups on the new model were clever - in fact, the whole design
was clever!  Like all the others, this young man had both legs from the
knee down encased in a stirrup that molded itself snuggly to the shape of
his leg. Each stirrup could then move independently from the couch and from
each other. If you wanted the legs flat, then they would be flat; if you
wanted them up in the air and widely split then they could do that too!

Each individual had been in the supine position up until this point and the
stirrups had been positioned horizontally. But now it was time to change
that and he began to prepare the first one in the same way that he would
for all the others, by moving the stirrups down and out from either side of
the couch; widely separating the young man's thighs so that the groin would
be fully accessible.  The lower part of the bed also folded back and under,
to make it easier for him to work.

The first one was the Hispanic guy. He always chose that first one
carefully, taking the toughest and most verbal...and it was clear who that
was!

As the stirrups operated and the bed under his thighs disappeared, the boy
growled at him dangerously, straining at the bonds in the belief he could
break them. As his muscular legs separated, his rather long circumcised
appendage came onto display. It was quite impressive! The rest of the boys
also could see the impact of the removal of the guy's pubic hair as, like
all the rest of them, he had been made completely smooth down there.

"You fucking bastard!" Carlos shouted struggling hard. He spat at the
Attendant, but it was poorly aimed and missed the mark.

After having opened his legs, the Attendant pulled a soft rubberized band
over and across the boy's stomach and hips. Know simply as the Ab-Band, it
was a bit like rubberized saron wrap. Once stretched across and clipped,
the band mechanism would pull out all the slack down, effectively
restricting any movement of his hips that might interfere with trying to
make the connection with the umbilical.

He was ready.

"You touch that dick, I kill you! No machine is gonna fuck me,
motherfucker!"

But with everyone else quietly - and fearfully -watching and wondering what
would happen next, the Attendant moved between the boy's splayed legs, took
the umbilical and, without a word, connected the boy to the Machine.

At the end of each umbilical was an innocuous, simple looking, collar that
went over the head of the glans and bio-mechanically docked with its
counterpart ring, previously surgically implanted into the sulcus of the
male. It was silver coloured, and looked a little like a wide wedding
band. Which, frankly, is exactly what it was.

It was called mating and it was the most devastating sexual encounter a man
or boy would ever experience -- and, to sexually encounter the Machine in
this way and be mated to it for the FIRST time marked the moment from which
it would be the ONLY type of sexual encounter they would ever be free to
enjoy.

For the rest of their lives.

CHAPTER TWO
by Riley Jericho
rileyjericho@yahoo.com


The Attendant had decided to give the foul-mouthed Hispanic, Carlos, the
honour of being the first of the group to be mated to the Machine that
morning. To a man, every eye was fixated on the movements of his hand as he
brought the umbilical close to the boy's flaccid penis and up to where the
ring -- implanted into the sulcus, just under the head of his penis -
awaited.

Though the group came from diversely different backgrounds, they all hone
something in common; anxiety and foreboding. For most, their last awareness
had been the Courtroom and a Judiciary Panel, and now they had awoken on a
couch in the Treatment Room. There was no last meal or quick smoke for the
condemned; It was all going too fast and any personal choices had been
stripped away from them.

Despite his bravado, Carlos was frightened to the point where he finally
stopped swearing and started to panic and struggle mightily. He heaved and
shook, attempting somehow to move his groin away from the impending doom,
but his hands and legs were locked and the belt over his stomach stopped
him from lifting his backside or moving his hips.

The Attendant lifted the boy's penis and deftly slipped it's mating collar
over the glans, at the head. He'd done it a thousand times, but for this
guy, it was a first.

"NO - WAIT!" Carlos cried and, for the first time, the Attendant saw
something of the frightened little kid in his eyes. The group looked on
with aghast fascination and he'd placed himself so that he knew everyone
could see.

It was educational.

The umbilical collar locked itself onto the ring and was almost impossible
to dislodge until the Machine decided it was time. Once engaged, the
mechanism was bio-mechanical in nature. As well as being physically locked
in place, fingers of fibrous bio-material extended from the collar into the
ring, like tendrils of a deadly jellyfish. These coupled with the same kind
of Bio-Fibers now making up in the sheath -- a networked mesh surgically
implanted along the length of the penis the day before.

This was why they had been here for several days, though they had no
knowledge of the invasive, but now hidden, surgery that had been
performed. After that surgical procedure, fibrils, proliferating like a
root system from where they had been planted, had spread like wild grass
and spliced themselves into local nerve bunches and ganglia; finally
merging directly into the spinal cord and central nervous system.

Every person here was already part flesh and part modern technology.

Including the Attendant.

For the Hispanic boy, the umbilical collar found its mate, made the
connection, and it was done. And he stared at it in horror. With the collar
and ring firmly married, the Attendant removed the discomfort of the
Ab-Band over the boy's waist to allow some movement again; partly because
he felt its presence became more of a distraction than an aid, and
increased the process time well over 15 minutes, and partly because if they
squirted on it, it was a pain to clean.

Even before it had gained much access to the higher brain functions
controlling pleasure, the Machine could still quite easily induce an
erection in the hapless teen. Through the fibrous sheath embedded along the
shaft and through the network of neuro-tendrils which weaved a web all
around his genitals, it could increase the blood flow into his penis and
reduce venous drainage away, forcing blood into the right places to quickly
replicate a state of male sexual arousal.

Along the full length of the penis, micro-electrical impulses would make it
feel like a million ants dancing on his dick, or could mimic an intense
drawn out masturbation. The Hispanic boy looked down in dismay as, within
moments of being mated and completely against his will, the Machine drew
him up to an impressively full erection.

It had been that easy and there were uneasy murmurs around the room at this
simple display of the Machine's power.

"SHIT!"

Carlos hissed as the Machine teased him seductively; the simple foreplay
making him squirm.

"TAKE IT THE FUCK OFF...NOW!" he shouted, desperately trying to ignore the
unwanted attention it was giving him. His substantial arm muscles bunched
as he desperately strained to reach the umbilical. It was only a few inches
from his fingers, but might as well have been a hundred miles away for all
the good it would do him. He bucked his hips attempting to shake it off,
but it was too late for him now - just as it would be too late for all of
them shortly.

The Attendant looked up and over to the adjacent bed. Its owner, Caleb
Alexander Montgomery, flushed and swallowed hard as the eye contact
communicated one simple message extremely clearly.

You're next.

Caleb Montgomery, the Attendant knew, was something of a celebrity, being
the son and heir of the millionaire businessman, and politician, Alex
Montgomery. Not many people didn't know the father, and now they knew the
son too.  He'd watched the news channel media circus that had surrounded
the boy with interest. Clearly, when it came to computer programming, he
was a talented lad. Just a tender age of 14 and already a sophisticated
computer hacker, they said.

But he'd made a fatal mistake. He'd been caught!

Normally the legal system didn't hang around and those caught could find
themselves judged and dispatched to the Centre with 24-48 hours. But young
Cal became an instant celebrity in a media frenzy, as his father arranged
an immediate injunction and fought tooth and nail to save his son; using
the power of the press to build support against the power of the
law. Everyone (even him, he had to admit) followed the story with great
interest as it created a flourish of national debate about the inhumanity
of the Machine and whether young Montgomery was about to be well and truly
fucked...as it were!

As part of his campaign to free his son, Montgomery senior had put out a
suggestion that he might even make a generous donation that would benefit
research to help modify real criminals.

He'd seen the reports that had come out at the end of the trial. The kid
might well have got away with a lesser sentence for the CyberCrimes, but
unfortunately for this talented young man, the technicians finally cracked
open some of the secrets buried in the teen's computer on and discovered
not a small number of images of men's and boy's genitals. To be fair, it
couldn't finally be proved that the very young looking ones were under the
legal age for that kind of photography, and although there wasn't actually
any explicit sex, it more or less sealed the deal for the panel of judges
who felt that Caleb Montgomery probably needed some help in this area too!
So the hammer fell.

For his father, the Courts were still deliberating whether the generous
donation approach amounted to nothing more than an illegal bribe, in which
case he might well follow his son to the couch.

"Hello Caleb..." offered the Attendant as he approached his couch.

"Piss off," he muttered, the previous flush draining from his face as the
Attendant reached for the controls for the couch. "Why am I here?" he
added, angrily.

The Attendant replied simply. He'd long since past allowing himself to get
irritated or intimidated by those he treated. "I think you already know
that, Caleb. You're here because the law determined that you should be."

Afraid and angry, Caleb still resisted saying something pathetic like 'do
you know who I am?' but his agile mind raced and he just couldn't come to
terms with what was happening. Where was his father? The lawyer? Had he
just been abandoned? Did they know where he was? Did that bitch Melissa
have anything to do with it? Maybe the phone would ring at any moment and
he would be released?

He bit back a sob of fear and frustration as the full weight of the
sentence passed on him drove deep.

It was a life sentence.

HOW DID THIS HAPPEN!!!!??

He was only 14 and his life was over...not that he had much of a life
anyway. He was already a freak with no friends and had been painted in the
news channels as the spoilt little rich boy. And now he might as well be
dead and all because of a few fucking pictures. He gritted his teeth and
tried to stop the tears spilling from his eyes as he followed the movements
of the Attendant. The mechanism was activated and he jerked involuntarily
as the stirrups came to life and, as he had observed with the Latino thug,
his legs began to move. He didn't have much strength so he didn't even
bother trying to resist and his legs were dropped down and out and the
couch folder under.

The belt was the worst bit and he started shaking as the soft material was
pressed onto his abdomen to tighten him down; trapping him with final
immobility.

The two boys...the Hispanic and the Montgomery boy... were like chalk and
cheese, and it just showed that it wasn't just the violent and oppressed
minorities that fell foul of the law!! At the opposite end of the spectrum
of society to a number of those gathered this day, Caleb Montgomery was
well educated and privileged; and was now privileged to occupy a bed in a
facility that was a great leveler of humankind!

The two boys were like chalk and cheese physically too. Whilst the Hispanic
was a product of a hard world where only the strongest and fittest
survived, little Caleb was exactly that; little and a bit chubby; chubby
and pale from spending too much time staring at computer screens.

He was pretty small elsewhere as well and, comparing the two teens, chalk
and cheese extended down below the navel too!

Circumcision.

It was standard practice here for all those who would need the ring
implanting in the correct way. Many in current society were circumcised
from birth, though not all. But there are circumcisions and
circumcisions. Some were tight, whilst others could be quite loose with the
remaining foreskin still rolling over the head. So, without exception, the
requirement was that all were circumcised and those previously cut were
recut to give each a drum tight outcome.

This proved a little unfortunate for Caleb Montgomery.

Like many others, he had been circumcised at birth and, like all the others
in this room that had been previously cut, he'd been pretty SERIOUSLY
tightened while they had done the rest of the surgery.

Herein lay a HUGE flaw in his character and self worth. He had - and always
had had - a tiny stub of a dick and it was a constant source of
embarrassment, humiliation and bullying for him. It was the only reason,
he'd convinced himself, that he'd developed a fascination with the male
appendage of others.

Why couldn't he just be normal like everyone else?

He'd tried all kinds of things over time; tools to increase his size;
tablets that could be purchased over the counter, or the `special
guaranteed' ones that could be bought via the HyperNet. None of it
worked. He'd regularly stretched the remaining foreskin and over the last
couple of years and managed to work it fairly loose - loose enough such
that the extra skin at least added to the appearance of length. But it was
mostly shaft skin, and the surgical rigs had trimmed it all off... and that
some!

The impact on his physical appearance was unfortunate, to say the least.

With the extremely tight circumcision and in an environment where he cool
and apprehensive, everything had severely shrunk and his penis was almost
buried in the chubby flesh of his groin. As smooth as the day he was born,
the remaining inadequate stub peeked out from the ring, which itself sat
back close to the minimal root of his member.

Literally, he looked like a BABY!

The facial flush returned and he squirmed in embarrassment as the Attendent
tried to tweak his micro-penis out, enough to connect him. To Caleb, it
looked like a fleeting smirk cross the guy's face and his humiliation
deepened.

"FUCK!!"

Destracted by the expletive, he glanced across to the Hispanic boy from
where it came. The guy's face was beginning to flush and an unpleasant
grimace crossed his mouth. He stared at him and glanced down to where the
umbilical was now controlling the boy, wondering what was happening. He'd
read the technical papers and knew the theory, but NEVER expected to EVER
see it close up -- not like this!

And then he shuddered.

Whipping his gaze back to his own groin he realised that, in those few
distracted moments, he'd actually just been mated to it himself and he bit
his lip hard, to stop himself panicking. The Attendent tugged at the
collar, now locked to the ring, and used it to pull his stub forward, to
free it up a bit.

Theory became real-life experience and, anxiously, Caleb wondered what
would happen next. A few moments later his eyes widened and he gasped as
the foreplay started.

After mating the first two boys, the Atttendant rapidly worked his way down
the two lines of couches to attend to the rest. To speed things up, he
tapped the controls of the couch ahead to start setting the stirrups,
whilst making the union via the umbilical with the current individual.

One by one, the stirrups positioned them and then their rings were offered
up for the unwanted union. In less than a minute, eight out the full twelve
were mated and already starting down the road to a new future. Some took it
stoically; others cried and begged to be released; more swore and
threatened him in all kinds of ways. Of course, they could easily have been
medicated and/or quieted by any number of means, but what they didn't
realise was that the emotional outbursts just made it easier for the
Machine to connect via the clear emotional pathways and subdue them more
easily. The shouting and swearing would soon stop when they found
themselves struggling to hold on to themselves and to freedom from
subjugation to the Machine.

At this point, the Attendant looked over to where the both the older man
and the young boy were waiting to be treated. They were along the side wall
where he had deliberately placed them some distance from the others. They
were special cases and he felt a quite sorry for them both and would try to
offer as much extra care if he could.

In his opinion, neither of them should really be here.

The boy was so young...only just turned 12, according to the records. It
really disturbed him that, with increasing frequency, the authorities were
criminalising them at these early ages. It worried him even more to know
that they were frequently administering this final, and quite irreversible,
treatment for seemingly minor problems.

Gone were the days where it was only rapists and murderers that were
submitted to the touch the Machine. Now, if a kid was still wetting his bed
at 13, the SCA representative could suggest that he be delivered to the
Centre for Emotional Wellness for correctional treatment. And 'suggest'
really meant 'require'! Well, maybe bedwetting was a little too minor, he
shrugged to himself, but he wouldn't put it past them! But, crucially, 13
was the age of consent required for the 'Social Care Administrate'. When
they reached 13, if the SCA felt something were in the best interest of the
child - even if it were to transfer them to this Centre - parents had no
legal powers to resist those kinds of orders. Those that persisted in doing
so often ended up resting on one of these couches themselves!

But this one was an orphan and, as such, had nobody to speak up for
him. Really, he already belonged to the authorities.

So why was he here?

The notes indicated that the boy had run away from the care homes on
several occasions and was exhibiting poor behaiour. But he had taken the
time to read the full case file and, from what he had discovered, really
was it surprising? It was obvious to anyone with an ounce of compassion
that the kid was deeply unhappy since his parents had been killed in a
house fire. All right, he hadn't had to deal with the boy the last few
years, but didn't he just need a bit of love and patience?

The law thought not, or more likely just couldn't be bothered, so they were
getting rid of the problem by requiring the kid be treated in this way,
alongside thugs and rapists.

The Attendant came over to where the two were waiting; both bound exactly
like the others onto their individual treatment couches. The lad glanced up
at him anxiously, fearing him as a child would fear the dentist suddenly
approaching with a needle. He spoke to the boy kindly, using his name to
try and help him stay calm.

"Hi there, Noah," he said softly. "How are you doing?" he added. The boy
stared at him speechless and fearful, like a rabbit caught in the
headlights. Not knowing what else to say or do, the Attendant decided to
press on and activated the control that would drop the stirrups.

"Why are you doing that?" the boy suddenly asked fretfully, finding his
voice but also flushing with embarrassment when, as the stirrups began to
draw him apart, it showed he was already semi-erect. The lower part of the
couch folded down and under and the Attendant came around the end to
position himself between the boy's legs to fit the umbilical. He noted the
erection, but was unsurprised.

Like a number of the boys lined up today, this one had never been
previously circumcised, and the surgery performed on him yesterday now
revealed a small glistening acorn shaped glans that, without doubt, would
be unusually sensitive. The Attendant knew that the boy's current physical
reaction was mostly because of the new sensations in that region -- and
that he was young, and sexuality was a probably a new and unexplored
experience. Noah was clearly some years from entering puberty, and had no
pubic hair yet, although he had still been treated with the laser brushes a
couple of days ago to ensure that none would ever grow.

Whilst it was possible that the kid didn't even completely understand what
sex was, let alone ever experience orgasm, for the Machine it made no
difference. God forbid that they should ever do it, but theoretically,
anyone -- even a young toddler -- could be mated to the Machine and their
personalities manipulated at will. It actually made no difference to what
state of development the sexual organs had matured, as sexuality and sexual
response were hard coded into the human psyche and brain function. As long
as an access port could be prepared and the plexus of Bio-Fibers grown into
the spinal cord and central nervous system, then the Machine could quite
easily connect directly to the deep brain, gaining access to nerve
complexes and the core primary pleasure tracts that already existed, even
in the very young. Those areas would respond and the individual would be
forced to experience exactly the same as a mature patient.

Significantly, the boy's current state of arousal made no difference to him
either. Gone were the days when, for him, the sight or touch of either male
or female genitals created any personal sexual response -- his own journey
with the Machine had ensured that! But he was still aware of the boy's
sense of discomfort with his new penis, and made no comment to draw further
attention to it.

Bizarrely, many men thought that the key to sidestepping an appointment
with the Machine was NOT to have a penis! He had heard stories of guys who
had surgically removed their appendages in a belief that the Machine would
not then be able to touch them. It was a fallacy of course, as the
Bio-Fibers could be introduced at a variety of access points on the body in
order to be able to create a route to the brain stem. And, if needs be,
stem cell advances meant that, with a little time and effort, a new penis
could even be grown. It just made more obvious sense to do it through the
sexual organs, and it was certainly less obtrusive afterwards.

The Attendant attempted to put the boy at ease. "It's OK Noah, it's just to
make you more comfortable." The lad looked dubious - and not surprisingly
so as a small boy trying to fit onto an adult sized couch looked anything
but comfortable! As the stirrups finished their journey and stretched him
either side of the couch, the Attendant decided to pass on Ab-Banding the
boy wit the hope that it wouldn't be necessary.

"And now, if you can keep as still as possible, we just need to attach this
small device too," he added, as he slipped the umbilical from the post.

"What's that?" the boy demanded suspiciously, beginning to pull against his
bonds.

"It's OK -- nothing to worry about.  It's just a little collar that we need
to fit. It'll only take a moment." If only I can get it on, we can deal
with the rest as we go along, the Attendant thought. At that point and with
bad timing, the Hispanic teen, Carlos, who had been had been the first to
be mated to the Machine cried aloud and thrashed around on his couch.

"MADRE de DIOS!! God...no....please no...." he shouted and, those that were
able, looked across to him in alarm. He was concentrating hard and his
knuckles were white as they gripped the armrests as he felt the real power
of the Machine over his body and mind. This was too much for Noah who shook
his head and started crying.

"NO, I don't want it done. Please don't. Just leave me alone. I want to go
home...I...I promise not to run away again." He began to become
increasingly agitated; to sob and struggle.

The Attendant was helpless to know how to help him. He was only 22 himself
and had no family or children of his own. Although he had plenty of
experience in this room with men and even teenagers, he was not so good
with kids; they were another world to him! He hated to do it, but perhaps
there was no other way than strapping the kid down like all the others and
just getting on with it?

Then a voice from the next bed stepped in.

"Hey Noah, it's OK - really it is. I'm having it done too, exactly like you
are. Why don't we team up and do it together?" the occupant suggested in an
easy, relaxed sounding voice. The boy stopped struggling momentarily and
looked across to check out the lifeline.

"Tell you what, why don't we go ahead and ask the man to do me first, so
you can see how it works?" the stranger suggested. "You can do that, can't
you?" he added, looking purposefully at the Attendant. Noah calmed down a
bit then and smiled gratefully as the Attendant nodded his
agreement. Leaving the boy for the moment, he turned to the older man and
began lowering the stirrups; separatIng his legs and showing his limp penis
with its embedded sheath and ring.

"Jack," he offered to the Attendant. "My name's Jack...and thanks for being
gentle with the boy."

"Jack Clifford. Yes I know," replied the younger man, before quietly
adding, "he's too young, Jack. He shouldn't be here, but I don't have any
choice, it has to be done. Thanks for watching out for him though - it will
really help him through the next 10 minutes or so if you can try to keep
him calm."

He looked quickly down the room towards the rest of the patients and
pondered a moment before turning back again to Noah and smiling
easily. "Tell you what -- there's no hurry. Why don't you two get to know
each other for a bit? I just need to attend to the others a few minutes."

Jack nodded as the stirrups finished their cycle, taking him to their final
position. The end if the couch dropped away, exposing him completely. As
the Attendant moved away, the boy looked at the older man with interest.

"Why don't you have any hair?" he asked frankly.

Jack grinned. Kids asked the most unexpected things sometimes. "You mean
down there?" he indicated, with a downward nod of his head as his hands,
like the boy's, were immobilised.

The younger boy nodded. "I thought all older guys had hair? My Dad had
hair...lots of it, I remember!"

"Well, I certainly used to, Noah," Jack replied, examining himself
critically. "Looks like they took it away - I guess it's something they
have to do for part of the procedure. It kind of looks a bit weird though,"
he admitted.

The boy giggled. "It makes you look like me!"

Jack smiled again, delighted to hear the boy laugh, even in these
surroundings. "It does doesn't it! Oh well, perhaps it will all grow back
soon?" he added hopefully -- as much for himself as for the boy.

In the way that only kids know how, the boy sent in another innocent curved
ball. "What did you do? Did you run away too?"

Jack sighed. How do you answer that? In a way, yes it was true he was
running away. Running from the pain and memories. He'd spent years avoiding
people and blocking out anything that could touch him and reawaken the
pain, but there was something about this little guy that called for an
answer that meant something.

"I've just been a bit sad recently," he sighed, eventually. "I'm hoping
this might help me."

The boy nodded and slumped a bit. "I've been sad too. After Mum and Dad got
killed...in a fire, it's been..." he seemed unable to finish and Jack
didn't probe, but then the boy continued, almost to himself. "We were at
Nan's and ...there was a fire. They took me outside and went back to get
Nan...they didn't..." He faltered again, but then kept going, looking up
sadly. "People say I'm too bad, so they said I had to come here..."

"What happens here anyway...nobody would tell me? You said something about
a procedure...what's that? Do we have to take a test or something? And why
is everyone cussing and stuff?"

Jack shook his head in private dismay. How can they do this to a child like
this? Now though wasn't the time to tell the boy the full truth of what was
about to be done to him, and what it would mean. "Oh, I'm sure they just
want to try to help you feel better too, just like me. Everyone here
probably needs a little bit of help," he offered lamely.

"Like to stop cussing? Mum and Dad never let me get away with that!"

Jack couldn't help but smile, "Yep, maybe that too!" Gently, Jack asked, "I
guess you miss them?"

"Mum and Dad? Yeah....." Noah drew into himself and looked suddenly sad and
lost.

"Well perhaps you and I are a lot alike. I lost two people that I loved
very much too. Just like you. That's why I've been sad as well. Let's hope
this can help both of us."

"You think it really might?"

"Yep, I think so. I know it's all a bit strange, but I think it's worth a
try, don't you? Just ignore the guys over there - we'll be a team and help
each other. If an oldy like me can do it, then I'm sure an energetic guy
like you can breeze through!"

The boy nodded, already beginning to like this man a great deal.

"Hey - I've just had a thought," Jack suggested. "Maybe it is a test and
there's a prize at the end for the best one?"

"Ya think so?" replied Noah hopefully. If there was a prize, he was gunning
for it!

Just then, after stopping by his main console, the Attendant returned along
the row and back towards Noah and Jack. He had directed the Machine to slow
down a little on the mental probing with those of the boys that he had
already mated. He wanted to buy a few minutes of calm; and time to be able
to ease young Noah into what had to be done. He also turned down the main
lights a little. A little me-time with their own nemesis wouldn't do those,
who were now feeling the touch of the Machine, any harm whatsoever!

"Hello again guys!" he said cheerfully, as he returned to the man and the
boy. "So Jack, are you ready? Shall we attach the connector now?"

"I don't know," grinned Jack, "hang on, I'll just confer with the team! Am
I ready Noah?"

Noah giggled in delight and nodded enthusiastically. "Yep, I think you're
ready...go for it!"

"OK, kind Sir! I'm officially ready...let's go!" Jack winked at the
Attendent and beamed widely though, frankly, he was also quite apprehensive
as to what this device would do to him. He had read all the articles, both
official and non-official about the Machine. He knew there would be some
parts that would probably be quite rough. He feared how the boy would do at
those moments.

"Watch carefully now Noah, I don't want him making any mistakes with my
privates!"

Noah burst into a fit of giggles before settling down to observe. The
Attendant quickly withdrew the umbilical and, at another nod from Jack,
slipped the collar over his flaccid penis. He held the collar over the
embedded ring, at which point the Machine immediately recognised the
proximity of the implant and locked into place.

"There we are!" Jack declared officially. "That wasn't too difficult at
all!" Frankly he had expected a bit worse.

Then, after a few more moments, as the Machine began gently probing this
new subject and stimulating him irresistibly through the sheath, Jack took
a sharp intake of breath, groaning ever so slightly as the erection
came. As the boy watched, the man's penis responded to the Machines urging,
as it slowly lifted and then grew to a full rock hard 7.5 inches. He sighed
with obvious pleasure.

 "Damn, it hasn't done that in a long, long while!"

CHAPTER THREE
by Riley Jericho
rileyjericho@yahoo.com


The two adults and the boy stared in bemusement as the Machine became
familiar with Jack Clifford and Noah grinned slyly at the rather obvious
state of affairs.

"You've got a boner!" he declared, giggling. "And your willy gets quite a
bit bigger than mine!" he added, looking at his own small, and now wilted,
member. He looked across the room at the assembly and his face pinched in
question. "So, why does everyone have boners?"

"Just give me a moment, and I'll be right back," said the Attendant
quickly, hoping to leave those kinds of questions for Jack to field. Anyway
he reckoned it would take a little while for the Machine to start any
proactive probing on the man, and he probably needed to check some other
things on his monitor in the meantime...and Jack did seem to have a handle
on this. Kids!

"And when I come back, perhaps we can do you as well, Noah?" he suggested
to the lad.

"Oh, sure...OK...." Noah replied, his curiosity well peaked as he watched
how much the man seemed to be enjoying it. The Attendant moved away and
Noah was quiet for a moment as he watched the man; examining both his and
the man's private parts.

"What did they do to my willy...it looks funny...?" he questioned. "Yours
does too. They've turned mine onto one of those that's got no top on it
now!" he added.

"That's called a circumcision, Noah." Jack replied, looking down now with
interest at his own mushroom shaped head. Although he had been cut many
years previously, he could tell he had been re-circumcised, and it felt
seriously tight. "I think they did that here too, but I know lots of people
have it like that, not just those being helped, like us."

Noah nodded. "I've seen one before, like in school -- but this feels really
funny!" He stared at it and wiggled a bit as the half-hard appendage bobbed
around. At least he didn't feel quite so flustered about that now,
considering the huge boner the man - and everyone else here -- seemed to
have too. On the other hand, he been quite happy with his willy the way it
was, and told Jack so. Why did they have to change it and make it feel
weird?

"Rubbish -- it doesn't look at all weird; just a bit different. I'm sure
you'll get used to it. What do you think?" Jack motioned the Attendant as
he stepped back over to them? "Noah's circumcision - I think it makes him
look very manly. All the girls are going to be chasing after him, I'll
bet!"

The Attendant grinned good-humoredly and played along, nodding.

"You think so?" pressed Noah, looking hopeful.

"Absolutely! Definitely!"

Noah beamed with delight at the good news, but added, "OK -- but you didn't
answer my other question - why does everyone have boners?"

The Attendant looked perplexed and turned to Jack, who sighed
reluctantly. Who'd have believed he would be giving the birds and bees talk
in this place!

"Well, boners (he used Noah's term, as he seemed to be OK with it) are
pretty normal in guys anyway, Noah. Most of us start to get them around
your age."

Noah went slightly pink, so Jack assumed this was familiar territory to the
boy.

"Then this little ring makes a kind of nice buzzing down there, like during
masturbation...and...well..." He stopped, feeling extremely awkward.

Noah skin colour deepened to bright pink at that little revelation! "We're
not allowed to touch ourselves at the care home -- you get into big trouble
if they catch you doing that!" he said, looking a bit shocked. "I know a
few kids who do, though," he added, glancing around as if to make sure he
wasn't overheard.

Good God -- what was the world coming to, thought Jack. How stupid can some
people get? No wonder kids in those places ended up with such huge
hang-ups!

It was quieter in the room now. With the settings held back on those
already mated, there was little talking as each individual strove to keep
their balance. Other than Noah, there were only the two at the end who he
hadn't attended to yet and he saw them glancing over and whispering
together. Focusing again on Noah, the Attendant decided to jump into the
discussion to try and interest the boy further.

"Jack's right -- there's nothing wrong at all in masturbation and enjoying
the nice feelings it gives. Ignore what they told you at the care
home. it's a lot of fun and can really feel great, can't it Jack?"

Jack nodded, happy to move on. "Indeed...anyway, perha..."

"So, how do you do it?" Noah interrupted innocently.

Jack faltered, coughing slightly, and the Attendant, who due to his own
conditioning had zero qualms about discussing any of this stuff, smothered
a snigger.

"So, how am I gonna know, unless someone tells me?" Noah persisted in
frustration.

Jack managed to stifle the reply of `You need to go ask your Mom and Dad
about that sunshine' and sighed. What the heck -- who cared. If what he'd
read was true about what was coming shortly, then a little masturbation was
the least of their worries!

"Look - if it's not something he's used to, it might actually be a good
place to start to help him get through this today," interjected the
Attendant frankly.

Jack bit the bullet. "OK -- fair enough -- I'll be the guinea pig!" he
muttered. "I'm afraid I'm a bit tied up, as you can see, but if you don't
mind, then it's OK with me."

So, winking slyly at Noah, the Attendant squirted a good dollop of gel from
a dispenser onto his hand and began to slowly masturbate their hapless
guinea pig, gliding up and down his extremely tight shaft skin and over and
around the glistening head and making sure that Noah didn't miss a single
bit of the tutorial.

He looked fully and appreciatively at the guy. The penis looked strong and
virile. He'd seen many in his years in this job, and could honestly say
this was a pretty good one. But it wasn't just his genitals and the
obligatory re-circumcision and defoliation of hair; the additional physical
modifications he had programmed for him had come out well too. He looked 10
years younger now, for a start; healthy, with a firm muscular body and well
tanned. Even the head of hair looked thicker and more stylish. He read the
files of every patient that came to him and knew the background of each. It
was in his power to improve not just the inner person, but the outer shell
too, and he was quite proud of what he had achieved with this one.

For his part - and not just for Noah's sake - Jack closed his eyes and
moaned softly "Oooooohhhhhhh...now that IS nice!" he murmured. The young
man was obviously an expert when it came to this kind of thing, he thought,
not quite realising that it was actually the Machine that was doing quite a
bit of the work!

"Does that feel good?" came an intrigued voice from the next couch, pushing
into his consciousness as he lay there enjoying the feelings that were
better than any he remembered from the years when using his own hand was
almost a daily ritual.

"Mmmmm....it sure does; really good," Jack replied, eyes still closed. In
fact, it was amazing!. "You should really try it!"

There was a small pause, before Noah finally caved in. "Can you do me like
that too, then? Just a bit...just to try."

The Attendant smiled in satisfaction, suspecting that he would probably
have the boy mated to the umbilical quite soon now. He left Jack to the
quickening caresses of the Machine and, taking a little more gel, turned to
the boy's couch.

Noah giggled, and then gasped as the Attendant slid his hand over him to
gently masturbate his small penis, which had come fully alive again as he
had watched the man being rubbed in the next bed. Hvong been careful not to
touch the glans directly (which would be quite sensitive from the
first-time circumcision), the boy responded enthusiastically to his
rhythmic manipulations. Earlier inhibitions about being naked and sporting
a boner evaporated and Noah took to it like any red-blooded 12yr old boy --
like a duck to water! Within a few moments the first giggles of "that
tickles!" turned to unabated arousal and groans of delight. 'Just a bit'
was no longer on the agenda and the Attendant knew he would have to stop
shortly or the boy was rapidly going to ejaculate on him!

Jack, on the other hand, had gone quiet and the Attendant looked across at
him. His eyes were closed, concentrating; his face a little
uneasy. Suddenly the eyes flew open and he hissed audibly and the Attendant
saw the signs that the Machine had pressed its first assault on him. He
stood between them, so that the boy would not see and be fearful again...at
least not until he had the collar on. And he needed to do that quickly now;
there were others to attend to.

"When will these bits come off?" the boy asked, referring to the ring
implant that shined in the depth of his sulcus, disappointed that the man
had stopped rubbing him.

"Oh...it's nothing to worry about," the Attendant replied offhandedly,
drying his hands on a towel. "Let's just leave it on for the time being".

The truth was it would never come off. The ring might be upgraded and
resized as this young boy matured but, like everyone in this room, he would
continue to wear one all his life now.

"You want to try on the little collar now...like Jack did?" he suggested,
hopefully. The boy looked somewhat dubious again and his heart sank. He
didn't really want to press the issue and belt him down to mate him. but
maybe there was no other way; it needed doing...and soon. Then a voice came
from behind him.

He didn't sound quite right, though Jack spoke calmly, if a little
tightly. "It's OK Noah, give it a try. You don't want to get behind do you?
We said we would be a team and try to do this together, remember?"

Noah grinned hopefully. "Well, OK - if there's a prize, I wanna get it!" He
nodded to the Attendant to go ahead.

The man eyed Jack curiously. Prize? What prize? Jack shook his head, smiled
slightly and closed his eyes.

Wasting no more time, and with Noah now waiting in eager anticipation, the
Attendant lifted the umbilical off the stand and brought it up to where the
boy's still-swollen penis was protruding. With childlike trust, he remained
perfectly still for him and only winced slightly as the Attendant drew the
collar over the sensitive glans to where the ring nestled in the
sulcus. There was a slight click as thon union was made and, in that
innocent moment, a young unsuspecting boy called Noah was mated for the
first time, and for life, to the Machine.

The Care-Giver tousled the boy's fair hair in a friendly way. "Well done
young man -- that wasn't so bad after all, was it?"

Noah shook his head and beamed happily, and the Attendant smiled in relief
that it had been achieved without putting the kid into a panic, right at
the start. However, the truth - though the unsuspecting boy did not realise
it - was that it was already over for him. The inevitable end in 10 to 15
minutes time was a foregone conclusion. And, despite what he had inferred,
the Attendant also knew that the possibility of getting together to make
out with some pretty girlfriend was extremely unlikely. After you were
mated to the Machine, it was a jealous lover and none were ever free to
find sex elsewhere.

"OK, Jack's here if you need him, but just relax now and I'll be back in a
few minutes."

For Noah, as he waited, it seemed like nothing was happening and he was
just about to ask Jack what to do when he gasped as a completely unexpected
feeling appeared from nowhere. Responding easily to the Machine's first
caress, his sex organ pushed out fully and continued to an extremely hard
erection. The sensations were delightful. The boy shuddered in satisfaction
and leaned back to thoroughly enjoy the ride, not knowing that the Machine
was only searching for weaknesses that could shortly be used against him.

Having now successfully connected Noah to the Machine, the Attendant left
both Jack and Noah to themselves and returned to his master console, set
into one corner of the room. The couch immediately adjacent was occupied
that morning by Liam Quinn, a troubled looking youth, who stared at him
accusingly.

Knowing what the boy was here for, he had little basis to accuse others,
and the Attendant found it easy to coldly ignore him; maybe too easy and he
berated himself for letting the kid get to him. On the other hand, he had
been surprised by the apparent lack of resistance when he was being
mated. He seemed to have little fight in him and none of the self-
justifying and unpleasentness that he'd come to expect with those caught
sexually assaulting another.

Previously he had eased back the activity level of the mental probing on
those who were already in the mating cycle; the main purpose of which had
been to buy some time and peace in order to get Noah attached more
easily. That having been achieved, it was time to get everything running
again at an optimum level for each individual -- in fact he turned up the
dials a few extra notches to press them forward a bit; raising the ante in
their individual struggles.

Within a half a minute, particularly amongst those that started sooner,
there were mutters of distress as their balance was disturbed. He glanced
up at Liam again, as the boy moaned and then swore. He saw what he could
only call `desolation'. A brokenness that welled up, even through the
distress of the mating -- and even then he just knew something wasn't quite
right, but he had no time to explore it.

Once more he passed along the lines, checking the progress of each one
through their individual monitors, and double-checking the dampers were all
on. The dampers were there to ensure it was impossible for them to achieve
a full ejaculatory orgasm until the mapping was completed and the Machine
was ready to insert itself completely through the wide open door that would
be created, at which point full Synaptic Remodelling could begin.

The first step was to gain initial access - the 'Yes' moment - and after
they had welcomed that initial climax, as long as the settings weren't
uncomfortable, he knew he could leave them on hold in an unconscious
state. The Machine could hold them in a pre-ejaculation hiatus - a
low-level slow orgasmic release - for some time.

From personal experience, he knew that that induced stage could be
intensely pleasurable!

Finally he came to the two boys that were together; the last ones that
needed mating to the Machine that day.

Instinctively, he'd placed them adjacent to each other and made them the
last on his list - but then again, he always left ones like this together
until the end if he could. His colleagues would no doubt ridicule his
choices, but he wanted to give them more time in their last moments
together. He felt sadness for the two, knowing that he had been them once,
although the empty memory brought no particular emotion with it any more.

However, he also kept them together for deeper strategic reasons.

These two had been tried and convicted of engaging in an inappropriate
homosexual relationship; caught together in a penetrative sex act by a
monitoring camera, in a place they thought was safe. It was an open and
shut case and they had been immediately sent here for reorientation. That
they had been brought here to the same facility was not surprising and the
authorities hadn't even bothered separating them into different intakes. In
fact they didn't really care, as The Machine would ultimately split the two
from each other quite easily.

They looked young... 14 and 16 the records told him. Nathan Black and Ben
Macintosh were their names. Nathan was older by 15 months; a heavy set 16
year old with deep-set eyes and a strong face. Ben, the younger, was weedy
by comparison, but with a personality that constantly smiled and brightened
the lives of those around him.

All in all, they were just two ordinary lads that loved life...but fell
foul of the law by loving each other.

Homosexuality was considered abhorrent in their society; a genetic failure;
a problem that needed putting right, just as he had been put right many
years ago. Afterwards, he had still seen Lucas now and again, as a friend,
but not in the other way - the old way - anymore.

At first, after the treatment, he had wondered what all the fuss was about,
but at the same time he knew he was missing something. But he couldn't
figure out what, or put his finger on it, as the memories of it had become
like a passing mist, warmed and lost in the fresh sunshine. He'd stayed
friends with Lucas for a while, but nothing more than that. In the end they
seemed to have less in common and their friendship drifted. It was only by
secretly accessing his own file some years later that he discovered the
truth; that it was the parents of both their families that had informed the
authorities and demanded that, for the good of everyone, both boys be
treated at the Centre to be "put right".

But by then, it didn't seem to matter anymore. It had all gone anyhow.

These two boys in front of him now had gone through the same preparation
process as all the others here and they glared at him as they sat there;
made smooth and with the ring surgically implanted, with arms bound onto
the armrests and legs immobilised in the stirrups.

"Hi" he said amiably enough. He specifically wanted to try to engage with
these two, knowing the personal contact would help later on.

"Piss off," snarled the older one, Nathan.

Both had benefitted from the additional body management and looked well
toned and healthy. Even Ben, who was slight compared to Nathan looked older
and stronger than when he first arrived. From what he had gleaned from
their notes, they also seemed to be intelligent enough lads and both would
realise clearly enough what was being done to them, though he hoped they
would still find happiness again in the new future that would be created
for them.

Both boys were flaccid and, choosing the younger one first, he reached for
the controls and Ben's legs started moving. The boy squealed and started
hyperventilating.

"DON'T!" cried the older one, alarmed. And then more softly, "Please don't
do it. It's not his fault.....".

Nathan looked over helplessly to Ben who had been quietly crying for the
last few minutes as they had been waiting, both fearful of the moment the
Attendant would notice them. It was an agony to see him like this; torn
between the need to be close and the feeling that it would probably have
been better to not have to see him face like this at all!

He had no idea how long he had been at the Centre, but it had only been 2
days prior to the Court appearance that the two police cruisers had pulled
next to them as they had walked back from school. Nobody was willing to
interfere and, despite desperate calls for help, they had been taken and
then detained in the police cells.

He hadn't been allowed to see Ben at all since that moment they had been
shoved into separate cars. His Court appearance had been separate too and,
after the sentence had been pronounced, everything went black until he had
awoken in this room; to find the one he loved lying next to him.

And now, after watching it being done to all the others, they knew it was
finally their turn to be put to The Machine.

He and Ben had known each other for years and their two families lived
close to each other and were old friends. The Macintosh's son, Ben, was
like the younger brother he never had. They had grown up together and the
15 month age gap never seemed important in all the normal, fun, ridiculous
or even stupid things that normal kids end up doing! They were just best
mates and new each other inside out, sharing common interests, clothes and
dreams, like best friends do.

But without either of them planning it or expecting it, the two boys had
just fallen in love. Built on a strong foundation of trust, their deep
friendship matured to a whole new level and the relationship quickly grew
to become physically sexual.

It had come as a surprise at first -- even a shock -- but both had
understood the implications and had come to terms with the truth of it some
time ago.

Homosexuals. Gay. It was who and what they both were, and had found what
they needed in each other.

It had been Nathan's 16th birthday just two weeks ago, and it was just like
Ben to surprise him with something unusual. As a birthday gift, he had got
hold of the key to the school's medical office, at a time when the doctor
was away at a conference. Locking themselves in, it had started as just a
place to snatch a quick kiss and cuddle away from spying eyes, but had
escalated when they had made love. Fiercely. Passionately.

But, in their lovemaking, neither had realised that a security camera had
been recently installed to cover the room. The camera was motion sensitive
and by, a stroke of bad luck, an assistant at the archives just happened to
spot a flag on the data, randomly searched the day for that room and
stopped at a point that could not be explained away. Bypassing the parents
by (as was the agreed policy in those situations), the tape was passed to
the police. It was without any warning that, two days later and following
standard guidelines, the authorities picked them up on the street at a time
and place where their parents couldn't interfere.

Both of their families, though profoundly shocked by the revelations of
their sons' sexuality and relationship, went frantic trying to save them,
but it was an open and shut case. The video was damning and the two were
individually sentenced to undergo remedial treatment at the Centre.

Now the were together again but, despite Nathan's desperate pleas the
Attendant shook his head uncompromisingly. "Nathan, I'm sorry, I really am,
but you know I have to do this. Why don't we just get it over with now?"

Without any more delay he turned back to Ben and stretched over the Ab-Band
to strap him into place. Ben was distraught - shaking and crying; a look of
terror on his face.

"NO PLEASE.....at least do me first..." Nathan shouted. The Attendant
hesitated.

"PLEASE...IF NOTHING ELSE..." he pleaded. "Does it really matter? Give it
to me first...I'll even promise not to move so you don't need to worry
about putting that strap on!"

The Attendant remained remote and impassive for a few a while, observing
the tow boys, and then nodded. Letting go the Ab-Band, it pulled back into
its holder and he turned to Nathan. True to his word the boy allowed him to
set the stirrups and the couch without complaint and didn't resist in any
way as he was gently mated.

Whilst he kept his promise and stayed still, Nathan felt nauseous as it was
done, but, for Ben's sake tried not to let it show.

"It's not too bad, Ben, just shut your eyes...you remember when we took
that bike ride up the crags and I fell off..." He prattled on for the next
few moments to keep Ben's mind off it and the Attendant turned back to the
younger teen to now repeat the procedure on him too. Ben still looked
anguished, but stayed quiet and kept his eyes shut; trying to be somewhere
else until the union was completed.

"Thanks," offered Nathan reluctantly, when it was done. Ben had opened his
eyes, but looked as white as a sheet.

The Attendant eyed Nathan with surprise and nodded, touched by the
complexity of emotion and feeling that the older boy held for his friend.

He waited.

His experienced eye picked up the widening of the pupils and sharp intake
of breath, and it was only a few moments later that both subjects
helplessly obeyed the Machine's prompting. The Attendant watched them
quietly for a minute, until both boys gave that first shocked look, feeling
the initial penetration in the offensive against them. The second one came
moments later, and the third and then the fourth.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-

This was how the Machine worked.

By almost everyone who had any contact with it, it was just known simply as
"The Machine". In truth, it was only an inanimate computer, albeit an
intensely powerful and adaptive one. It had no moving parts or bodily
functions, but still everyone treated it like another human being, and
spoke of it as if it were a sentient beast.

In fact there were many Machines and the particular one in this section of
the Centre was in the process of taking over yet another eleven young (and
one not so young) minds was relatively new; one of a fresh generation
installed at the facility only recently. But even though they were many,
people perceived them only as an individual called the Machine. It wasn't
just a thing, or even just a computer. It was a calculating demonic being,
able to tame the strongest mind and bend any to its own implacable will.

After being carefully prepared, it was in the Treatment Room that
individuals were mated for the first time with the Machine. (Women, by the
way, were no different from men in the way that the Machine processed
them. Other than the more obvious differences in physique and external
genitalia, a woman could be united to the Machine in a similar way with
similar consequences.)

During initialization as the collar of the umbilical weds to the ring
embedded in the person, the individuals were usually pretty verbal; anxiety
loosening their tongues and fear causing them to lash out. But immediately
after being mated, they wondered what would happen because other than
spiking an erection (for the males, anyway), it often seemed nothing was
actually happening at all.

It only seemed that way.

In fact the Machine was on a fishing trip, gathering a whole host of
information that the individual was unknowingly supplying:

Information about their mental state and their thought processes; fragments
of memory; likes and dislikes; sexual preference and physical information
about the actual body and the reactivity of the endocrine and nervous
systems.

These, and many more details were being recorded and assessed. Through the
data gathered, the individual gave away clues that would help unlock the
person at their very core.

These initial advances seemed almost innocent and the individual had no way
of knowing that the light teasing caresses were just foreplay -- a getting
to know you session. Perhaps it could even be described as the Machine's
variation on speed dating! But it was a one sided date and foretold the
beginning of a bonding for life between person and Machine.

In contrast to those first gentle, and often quite pleasant, advances, when
the first full-on attack came, it was deliberately ruthless. It hit hard
and fast, and came as a huge shock to the person, bringing the realisation
that they were being penetrated. And, as the brain frantically tried to
shut out the penetration, the Machine learned and kept learning from every
ebb and flow of the contest of wills. A contest that each living person
would finally lose. They all did. Some even lost the battle on those first
few minutes of assault.

With the implanted bio-technology that enabled the Machine to tap directly
into the central brain functions of a person on its side, it quickly
learned who they were; what made them tick; what were their strength and
weaknesses and what potential barriers did they still hold. Then, just as
quickly, it discovered how to bypass those barriers. Highest on the agenda
was to engage with an individual's core psyche sexuality, to take full
control of those very central emotional and physical quantities. Sexual
Pleasure and Response.

Its goal was to have you; and it got what it wanted by controlling the
access to sex and the pleasure experienced through sex. And, when it
controlled those potent commodities in the right way, the compulsion to
desire a physical sexual release could be made unstoppable.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-

From a couch on the adjacent wall, Caleb Montgomery stared with slightly
blurry vision -- compounded by beads of perspiration dripping from his brow
-- to where the Attendant had just done the last two guys at the end and
then hung his head on his chest and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the
next pressure wave to hit him. His slightly chubby torso was sweaty and he
gripped the armrests and shook his head in determination as it came at him
offering what he wanted but couldn't afford to accept.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Although it was primarily cerebral, the coercion was extreme. The very
physical distress it produced was such that many said that this procedure
was akin to torture - which is why the military still enjoyed using it! It
was like having an itch and not being able to scratch it, multiplied and
magnified; a compelling desire that could not be dislodged. And, even
though the coercion was in the mind, the Machine accessed the cortical
pleasure tracts and any and all nerve bundles in the body. It could let
loose an unimaginably large range of physically intense, sexually
pleasurable, experiences to create a coercion that was undeniable.

It was not about wanting to come to orgasm on a purely physical
level...every boy in this room was wanting that right now and, round about
him, the emotional temperature was rising rapidly with sounds of sexual
arousal and sweaty palms. The caveat was this: with the mounting compulsion
to accept sexual release, the Machine would only offer climax when the one
mated to it through the umbilical was driven to the point of accepting the
sexual mating deep down in their psyche; offering themselves freely to the
Machine so that it might take them into the release they craved.

Pure and simple -- it was a forced seduction. Couple with Me...I'm
here...COUPLE!

For as long as they resisted the compulsion, there was no release until,
through a mixed fog of pain and pleasure, freely choosing and entering that
coupling was the only thing that actually mattered to them anymore. And it
became their downfall and the open door to regime change in the centre of
their very being.

CHAPTER FOUR
by Riley Jericho
rileyjericho@yahoo.com

Caleb Montgomery's mind cried out in dismay and he scrabbled to hang on to
his equilibrium after another, and yet more powerful, wave passed over
him. My God, how was it doing it? How were such desperate feelings being
made to feel so horribly real?

During the days of being held on remand, their lawyer had spelled out what
could be the best and worst case scenarios for what he might be facing. For
the worse case he'd had to consider the distant possibility that they might
try to pin the Machine on him, but he'd dismissed it; refusing to believe
that anyone -- let alone an inanimate computer programme -- could really
make him, Caleb Montgomery (who knew computers inside out), do anything! If
you had a strong will, how could you REALLY be made to want or do something
if you REALLY knew you shouldn't? Only weak people did that -- and he was
not that weak!!

Was he?

He'd never been stupid enough to do drugs, but maybe this was what it was
like when the chemicals messed up your brain so much, you just had to have
another fix. You were addicted -- it was a pure craving -YOU HAD TO!

He turned to look at the Hispanic teen. How could he be put into the same
category and place as THAT! He probably did drugs. He deserved to be put
through this! Not him!

The guy caught him staring. "Fucking fairy pervert!" he spat, and Caleb
looked away quickly.

Bastard.

However angry or confused he felt, sexually he was completely on fire; more
aroused than he could ever remember being in his life

Part of him was still demanding that this wasn't real and he mustn't choose
it, but he was fighting a loosing battle with an undeniable entity that
pressed, in unimaginable ways, to give himself to it. Of course he'd jerked
plenty, but he'd never known full sex with a person. EVER. And, the way
things had been going in his life, the mathematical probability that he
would get laid anytime soon were pretty much zero! Now his whole body was
exploding with sensations and previously un-guessed experiences that were
consuming him; and this fucking Machine seemed as real, and more potent
than anything he had ever dreamed of.

He sobbed after another few really horrible moments, and the brief outburst
drew the attention of the Attendant with what felt like a smug and knowing
look. Caleb caught his eye and loathed him -- almost as much as he despised
the thug on the couch next to him; the Latino bastard with the limited
vocabulary who belittled him through the huge manly cock he paraded.

A week earlier, he'd been smug in his own cleverness and confidant in his
own security. But when they had swooped, he'd failed to destroy the damming
evidence. Even then, he'd had no doubt that his Father would sort it out
and get him out of the mess he'd landed in. They had money, plenty of it;
and connections to people in high places and, during the court hearing, the
expensive lawyers kept telling him he would be released -- at worst with
not much more than hand slap and a fine.

But the lawyer had failed him. His father had failed him!

In the court room, it was with incredulous disbelief that he had stood,
expecting to be acquitted, to hear a sentence of guilt pronounced, followed
by the requirement that he be brought to this place for immediate
reorientation; the Centre for Emotional Wellness. The Machine.

The memories of the jubilant cheers from the public gallery still stung.

Even then he had still believed that his superior intelligence would be
enough to protect him, but now he knew that, without doubt, he too was
being hacked and it was only a matter of time before he would be broken.

Not like this, Oh God -- not with a machine - not like this!

And as much as he hated these others, he despised himself for his own
weakness and failure to control himself.

Those fucking pictures! Without them, he'd be at home now, and still have
some kind of life to look forward to.

In despair, he looked around the room and couldn't stop himself wondering
if he would have downloaded pictures of any of those around him? His eyes
rested in a couple of likeable places and, without thinking, his mind said
'probably, yes'. Then he suddenly found himself unable to shake the
thought, as something seemed to latch onto it and play it back to him. He
shook his head vehemently, but the denial was falling on deaf ears.

Once desire was fully-fledged in an individual, the relationship could be
consummated and the Machine would finally trigger a primary orgasmic
release (though without ejaculation) whilst, at the same time, taking an
unbreakable hold on the rest of the mind.

With the locks picked and the doors flung open, the victim of this
foundational break in was completely disconnected from any conscious or
subconscious control, leaving the Machine at complete freedom to move in on
the territory. Keeping the individual enjoyably distracted, and with all
neural barriers disabled, it would proceed to finish mapping out the
existing structure of the neural pathways. This was a process it had
launched from the first moment of mating and would culminate in it
identifying every one of the thousands of key neural paths of which it
craved control. Once it had learnt all it needed to know, and had an
individual mind fully mapped out, it would move to completion and Synaptic
Remodeling.

The Remodeling would be triggered through an enhanced and overwhelming
ejaculatory climax. It was cathartic event that lit up the extent of the
mind's emotional network like a fairground at night; following the lights,
it would burn its ownership on every part of the mind that mattered, and
then dynamically begin creating new pathways and permanent synaptic links
that could never again be closed by the individual, even if disconnected
from the Machine. In the days following this break in procedure, the
individual would be put into a deep coma-like stasis for extended periods
of time, during which (if desired) the regeneration of their whole
personality could be achieved.

Leaving the two boys for a few minutes to the bite of the Machine, the
Attendant returned to young Noah. He glanced at his display monitor and it
confirmed what was abundantly clear from the boy's face and squirming
torso; that he probably would have little reserves to resist, now the
Machine had begun to manipulate him. He spoke to the boy gently and easily
in the hope of helping him stay calm.

"Hi there, Noah. Doing OK?"

The boy shook his head without saying anything. Someone squealed and Noah
flinched, staring fearfully towards the source.

Whilst the earlier shouting and swearing had not been that pleasant, those
had been replaced by cries of another kind that were just as intimidating!
Add to that the fact that he was bound hand and foot, and had a weird
device tethered to his freshly modified penis, the Attendant guessed he had
every right to be disturbed! Much though he would like to, he couldn't risk
loosening the boy's bonds in case he grabbed at the umbilical and disturbed
the process that had to, and would, be completed.

It could be an extremely rough ride for any of them here and it concerned
him that ones like Noah had to be to be exposed to this degree of assault
-- even though it may be for the greater good. Greater good?? Surely there
was something messed up about a system that demonised a young boy because
he had lost his parents and wasn't coping well?

But there was also a job to be done this morning and he wasn't going to
hesitate in completing the task as required.

"Feels a bit funny doesn't it," the Attendant suggested. The boy gasped a
little and squirmed with the feelings that were beginning to bear down on
him now.

"Can you take it off now?" he pleaded. "I don't really like it anymore. Why
don't you use your hand instead, like before?" he added hopefully, and then
grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut for a few moments as the mind probes
pressed in on him.

The Attendant stroked the boy's arm encouragingly, "Don't worry, it's not
so bad - but we do have to keep going now. It'll be finished soon anyway,
just hang on for a few more minutes."

"Will me and Jack be better then?"

"Nearly...just try to relax and not think about. You're doing fantastically
well...isn't he Jack?"

Jack was somewhat further down the process than the boy, and it was clear
that those minutes had taken their toll on his body and mind. Fighting to
keep his voice even, he joined the conversation. "Too right! I'm glad we're
on the same team, bud - you're doing great! Hey - do you follow the Kats?"

The Kats were the local pro Basketball team and Noah nodded with a weak
smile. "Sure," he retuned, with difficulty. "I wanna play pro too, when I'm
bigger!"

"Well, there ya go - maybe we can go together to watch 'em play when this
is done?"

Frankly, whether that would be possible, Jack had no idea. Maybe he had no
right to offer such hope? He had become so disabled in life, he had been
unable to make any plans and had no future anymore; time would tell whether
there would even be a `future' tomorrow.

"They're playing at home on Friday night," Noah offered hopefully.

"Then it's a deal." Jack agreed. "And if not Friday -- then another
week. Can you hang on for that?"

The boy nodded, not wanting to let them down.

The Attendant watched the exchange with interest. Was Jack just playing
along or did he actually care? He shrugged - either way it helped the boy,
so he didn't interfere with their social planning because, despite his
earlier encouragement, he knew that shortly the boy's mind would start
reacting instinctively in self-preservation and it would get pretty bad!

But he still hoped that his prediction would be true - that it would be
over sooner rather than later for the kid.

He didn't expect Jack Clifford to last that long either; mainly because he
was here by his own accord and had freely chosen this procedure - although
even those who came with no plans to resist often found that their bodies
and minds still tried to hold off the alien onslaught. Maybe it was an
instinctive protective reaction, he wondered; similar to blinking if an
object comes too near the eye. It was hard to know, as he'd not seen it
frequently; there were not many like Jack who voluntarily ended up in this
particular Treatment Room!

But he knew he had made a good choice in putting the two together. From a
distance, as he had been attending to the others earlier, he'd seen them
talking quietly and easily together as the older man took time to help the
boy, easing his fears and trying to encourage him to stay relaxed.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-

For one requesting this treatment of his own volition, Jack was unusual, as
the majority of those -- and there were more than you would expect - went
to one of a number of private facilities that did this exact same
modification. Those that chose it were usually wanting to forget something;
wanting to start a new life somehow and escape from the baggage of the
past.

However, the private clinics were quite expensive and, other than being
graced with a pretty receptionist, they offered no more -- and sometimes a
lot less -- than what could be achieved here; other than it being seen as a
little more socially attractive!

Naturally, the 'specialist' doctors who worked in this field made a lot of
money by promoting it as a painless and easy route to emotional health -
and maybe it was cheaper than years of therapy. But their patients were
still physically restrained; they were still permanently exfoliated and
circumcised. And, because they'd been required to sign a well-worded and
completely watertight `no-release' form, the highly paid doctor had the
legal freedom ignore the screams when the coercion hit and they pleaded
that they had made a terrible mistake; demanding, nay, begging, for the
Machine to be withdrawn.

However, with some good conditioning, a few weeks later those same
individuals were able to gush enthusiastically to the practitioner's next
potential clients, describing what a beautiful time it had been after all!

Still, some physicians, under the right circumstances, were willing to
refer a patient to go through this process of emotional reconstruction here
at The Centre, where it was free. As long as you didn't mind being in the
same room as some of the more usual and unpleasant pond-weed that passed
through, it was a good deal.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-

The Attendant made sure the ejaculation dampers of both man and boy were in
place and then went to review his notes again at his console.

It was all there; Jack had lost his wife and son some years ago to a tragic
airplane accident in which he'd been at the stick and had never recovered
from the trauma or was able to put his life back together again. He'd
reached a state where it would be either room or suicide so, through his
physician, the man had agreed to be treated and to undergo a remodeling of
his mind and emotions here at the Centre; to forget, or at least to be able
to remember without the pain.

This is what made the treatment different from the old days of frontal
lobotomies. Whilst an individual was irrevocably altered by the deep-seated
changes the Machine worked upon their emotions and psyche, they still
usually remembered that they were them; much of the knowledge held from
before could, if appropriate, be maintained intact; they still recognised
and knew who friends were. What was changed in them was much deeper than
that and went to the very heart of an individual's values, emotions and
self-identity.

You usually remembered who you were, the Attendant qualified to
himself. Sometimes the Machine felt the past was so messed up, it just
wiped every memory.

Leaving his console, he returned to the homosexual couple. Both were
flushed, although even the younger one, Ben, seemed to have settled a bit
and was actually holding his own against the Machine.

With Ben watching his every move, he lifted up the lead of the umbilical
and traced it towards where it joined the boy before deliberately taking
hold of the lad's straining penis. For those holding homosexual tendencies,
this was usually quite provocative and his goal was to disrupt the
individual, enough so their grip on themselves faltered.

He squirted a little gel onto his hands before carefully examining the
surgical modifications ; slowly manipulating the younger one gently under
the coronal rim of his glans as he did so. With arms bound and his legs
separated by the stirrups on either side of the couch, Ben was helpless to
resist the physical contact.

"Oh shit....! No....don't touch it...don't do that!" he gasped, as the
visual stimulus married with the physical feelings and his control slipped
a little as he was examined

"It looks good on you, Ben," the Attendant complimented the younger of the
two boys as he held him and began to masturbate more firmly. "It's a good
tight circumcision; something you can be rightly proud of."

Teasingly, he ran his fingers across the boy's hairless skin, and he
shuddered at the touch. "You look good smooth too - there's nothing wrong
with that, either!"

Though appearance wasn't the main reason why they were circumcised, for the
individual bound to the couch as they were and having had the foreskin
taken, the erection pulling back tight down their shaft was quite difficult
to ignore!

Even more so for Ben!

When this young boy had been prepped for surgery yesterday, it had become
apparent that, not only was he uncircumcised, he also suffered from
Phimosis -- a not uncommon condition. The condition presented with an
extremely tight phimotic band around the tip of his penis such that his
foreskin had never been able to retract properly and, up until now, the
mushroom shaped head had never seen the light of day. As a result, he knew
it would be uncomfortably sensitive now, but that was a weapon too.

The Attendant slowly brought his ring grip up and over the pink
head. Provocatively, yet lightly, he swirled his finger over the boy's
sensitive glans, whilst deeply massaging the shaft. Ben leaned forward and
grunted, squirming and clenching the muscles of his backside against the
explosion of new feelings assaulting him.

He made to stop and then, without warning, the Attendant altered the grip
around the shaft and pulled it up over the top, massaging the tender glans
rapidly and full-on.

"AAARRGGGHHH...!" Ben convulsed and smacked his head back against the
headrest. He squealed with the overpowering torturous sensation, yet the
line between pain and pleasure was becoming increasingly blurred.

In the middle of the offensive and deep inside the boy, the compulsion to
orgasm spiked and something in him began to give way to the desires. He
began shaking as the decay set in and his earlier distress turned back to
guilt. He'd felt a great weight of guilt at having led Nate under the
cameras -- and now the new a new guilt was forming, as he couldn't help
himself responding to the sexual caresses being offered.

Failing already, hopelessness closed in and he looked over to Nathan in
anguish. "I'm sorry," he gasped and hung his head again.

Around the room, the dismay was increasing with the sound level. Most had
been at this for a dozen minutes or more and were entering the final phase,
where the ability to resist would be swamped. All were flushed and some
even perspired with the intense arousal and physical strain. A few were
becoming extremely agitated as they twisted and pulled in the unseen battle
they waged.

Caleb Montgomery was one of those.

The scene he was witnessing just across from him had been way too close for
comfort, but he just couldn't pull his eyes from it. For some reason, the
two guys -- one about his age, the other a bit older -- seemed to know each
other, but he had no idea what the connection could be. They didn't really
look like bank robbing brothers or thugs or even some serial rapist tag
team. He hadn't been able to catch their names, but the younger one was
crying. For the first time that day -- for a great many days actually - he
was moved by a plight other than his own.

A little earlier, he'd observed from afar as the Attendant finally came to
the two to mate them to the Machine in the same way as had already been
pressed on the rest of the group.

`No, please -- at least do me first' the older one had shouted. Fuck, why
would anyone offer that, Caleb wondered? The Attendant had agreed and
hadn't even used the strap...? It made no sense.

He knew the older of the two teens immediately.

Not personally, but he knew exactly who and what he was; everything that
he, Caleb Montgomery, wasn't. Popular. He was the well-built jock type who
owned the field; those ones who always had the girls flocking to them at
school. Yet, behind those deep-set dark eyes and firm jaw, he looked
intelligent too!

Those were the worst - the ones everyone looked up to, but who had the
power to inflict the most spiteful pain when they put you down.

But it was the other one that really got his attention; the younger one
that was a bit gangly in comparison; the one with the mousey hair and ears
that stuck out idiotically; the one who had something, Caleb suspected,
that would probably make him stop and look twice if they passed in the
street or he saw his picture on the Net.

School was as crap as it could get -- an expensive and elite Academy that
was often nothing more than a magnet for thugs with money; an establishment
that catered for those trying to buy a future for their delinquent
sons. But if this kid had been at his school, would he have talked to him?

Probably. Perhaps.

Maybe he wouldn't be one that ran with the crowd? Maybe nobody else would
have time for him and he'd perhaps try to start a friendship with him -
with the hope that he wouldn't just call him a freak and a loser, like
everyone else did.

More likely he'd just keep his mouth shut and eyes down and stay out of
trouble. But he'd have to keep looking from afar, because how can anyone so
scrawny and lopsided look so fascinating at the same time? The kid with the
turned up nose and a face that he'd lay odds could smile the pants off you
in any circumstances other than this!

He suddenly caught a name as the Attendant came back and started talking to
them once more.

Ben! The guy was called Ben.

As he observed them, he got the shock of his life! His mouth dropped open
and, if he hadn't been tied down, he might easily have fallen off the
couch, as he watched the Attendant take Ben's dick and literally begin to
jerk him; right there, in full view of everyone.

Oh my God... he was actually doing it! Doing it to him slowly, deeply and
deliberately, and in a way that Caleb could only dream; and he found
himself yearning for something - `I wish I was doing that!'

He was actually excited - and that was disturbing!

HELL -- IT COULDN"T BE TRUE...could it? That sex in that way and wanting to
see other guys like this - was that what he really liked? Shit it couldn't
be...

He looked again, and also across to the black kid next to Ben who was
quite...errr...interesting, too! In fact, he had to admit that not having
any pubes made the kid's black groin look intensely sexy!

He licked his dry lips and turned back to Ben who was still being openly
masturbated, but the Attendant had done something that had made the boy
shout in pain. That bothered him and he almost called out to make him stop
- and nearly did, apart from something bore down on him again and he cried
out in surprise himself, as a new and much more formidable compulsion
mounted him.

On the couch close to Ben Macintosh, there was an unexpected high weeping
cry as the young black boy stumbled, also coming close to the end now. He
was shaking his head from side to side and banging it back on the soft
headrest in rhythmic distress as, synapse by synapse, he gave up control of
his deep-seated sexual functions; fighting the strong desire to cum as if
his very existence depended on it.

In a profound way, it did.

The Attendant was glad it was nearly over for the boy, but was disturbed by
the discomfort that was being forced on him. Some used the word `rape' to
describe the raw compulsion to orgasm, forcefully extracted from an
unwilling partner in these circumstances. He preferred to believe that the
Machine just knew the boy better than himself and he also knew that it
would only bring him finally to climax because that was what the boy would
crave.

Around the room the were soft gasps as others, hearing the cries of sex and
submission, found their own resolve wavering as the Machine slipped deeper
into their minds, weakening their ability to hold out.

Looking again at the two gay boys, both the monitor and experience dictated
that the younger one would be the first to crack. But he withdrew his hand
from masturbating him, not wanting it to be too soon, as this one was going
to be the key to unlocking the other. It was often this way with homosexual
couples, and why he always chose to keep them together.

Taking time and care, he had passed around to attend to every boy who was
under his responsibility that morning. He knew something about them all;
their backgrounds, the reasons they'd been sent to this facility and the
possible futures they might have to look forward to.

The ones that had families that still cared for them could -- contrary to
popular opinion -- just go home, and would hopefully go on through life as
normal.

Whatever `normal' was for them at that point.

For example, how would it be for the two gay teens?

After a few days here, they would hopefully go home to their families to
eat dinner, empty the trash, tidy their rooms and go to sleep in their own
beds; maybe even be back to school the following week as if nothing had
much happened. Some of their friends might not even know what had been done
to them...other than they both now carried the mating ring and, these days,
most were aware what that signified! Yet, despite the treatment -- or maybe
even because of it - however others around them perceived or judged them,
the boys themselves would have no sense that anything was wrong in their
world.

The conditioning saw to that and for them, wearing the ring and mating to
the Machine every day would seem perfectly normal and they would do it
without hesitation or concern.

To everyone else, in almost every other way, they would seem to be typical,
well-adjusted and sensible young guys. In fact, they would be whatever the
Machine programmed and conditioned them to be.

Even if it wasn't who they really were!

Returning to Jack and Noah he could see that the Machine was on its full
offensive and the boy was now suffering and crying unrestrainedly. Even
though he was clearly not doing well himself, Jack looked desperate as he
tried to offer comfort and encouragement to the lad.

"Make it stop -- please -- make it stop!! I don't want it!" Noah
screeched. Another fierce coercion bore down into him and, twisting and
straining against the onslaught, he sobbed in dismay, "No...stop...it's not
right...I don't want to...it hurts..."

What had started as something beautiful and fun had become a tormenting
nightmare. The boy pulled against his bonds helplessly as, tethered by his
mating ring to a howling monster, the Machine poured its irresistible power
into him.

The older man was struggling too, yet his discomfort multiplied by having
to watch the boy suffering in this way. Emotions, long repressed, were
surfacing and he had tears running down his cheeks as he pulled at his own
restraints, trying to get free to get help Noah.

"For God's sake, help him," he begged the Attendant. "Please - can't you do
something?"

Impotently, he stared across at the youngster for whom he'd unexpectedly
felt a responsibility. It was agony! The boy reminded him of his own dead
son at a time when he was desperately trying to forget it all. But he
couldn't help it, as this boy had called out of him something that he
thought was long dead and buried; the ability to care.

They were both in pain.

Observing the boy dispassionately, his professional eye filtered out the
emotion and he could see everything was progressing on schedule for the
young boy. Distress and emotion were par for the course in this room and
they rarely touched him. Noah had been brought here for this required
treatment, and it would be completed fully and successfully.

But he still had reservations because, though the Machine got its way in
the end and the final outcome was as effective as with adults, the shock of
getting there was much greater for ones as young as this. The Machine was
compelling him to copulate, but he probably had little idea what that
meant, or what it was.

Maybe it was just inefficient?

It was different for pubescent teenage boys; ones who had taken time to
experiment in the privacy of their own room and at their own pace,
eventually discovering the pleasurable sensations that came with
ejaculation as they explored the world of sexuality. But he guessed this
boy had little or no such experience to fall back on. But the Machine
didn't really care, and that could be horrible.

The Care-Giver, for that was how he still saw himself, nodded and studied
the monitor looking for openings. He had hoped that Noah's defenses would
be minimal, but the boy was remarkably tenacious -- much stronger and more
obstinate than he had ever expected as he resisted the Machine; still
holding out with a depth of reserve and yet-untested strength.

Studying the fluctuating readouts, he searched for a breach.

There...no, even better...there...!

He smiled to himself as he spotted the opening and guided the Machine to
it. In response, within a few moments, the boy shuddered and his eyes flew
open in shock as his resistance was unexpectedly sidestepped. The end was
definitely coming now.

And fast!

Wanting to make the most of the next few moments, the Attendant moved
swiftly back to the black boy in the centre of the room. Of all the rest,
the readouts and his experience dictated that this one had also been
brought right to the edge. He knew that if both boys succumbed in tandem,
it could start a cascading domino effect amongst the rest.

The African boy was astonishingly handsome, even for a 16 year old. He
writhed on the couch, forced to give his sex up to the demands of the
Machine as it sought to mate to him; pressing its desire via the umbilical,
through the ring embedded in his penis; a member that was now dripping with
pre-seminal fluid in response to his intense arousal. With each passing
moment he was being draw closer to the consummation he was fighting, so
vainly, to dismiss; and there were not many of those precious moments left
for him.

To magnify what would be the centre stage for the final unraveling, the
Attendant lowered the ambient light and increased the brightness on just
this one.

Every eye stared feverishly at the tormented young man.

CHAPTER FIVE
by Riley Jericho
rileyjericho@yahoo.com


He remembered the lad vividly from the preliminary procedures; the young
black kid with the cuts and scars across his belly from God knows what,
disfiguring him. Marks on his arms pointed to substance abuse and his mouth
was a mess; poor hygiene and with several teeth missing or badly smashed.

What life does a 16 year old kid live to end up in such a state?

Like always, early on the first day, this batch was transferred into
individual holding cells, arriving in an unconscious state straight from
the courthouse where the sentence had been pronounced. They would remain
unconscious until the appointment in the Treatment Room.

On that first day, before anything else could be done, they were carefully
undressed and, if they were still wearing any personal items, they would be
removed and bagged; to be reclaimed afterwards if appropriate.

Next they were washed; a task he, and the team that assisted him, completed
painstakingly and thoroughly for every individually. Each was laid,
unconscious and blissfully unaware, on a washing slab where every crack and
orifice was meticulously cleaned.

The standard approach was also to take all of the lower the body hair. It
was better that way -- not just more hygienic, but really the only sensible
and permanent solution, in both males and females, that dealt with the
tendency for strands of bushy pubic hair to get trapped in the rings during
the daily mating ritual.

But it was also a delicate balance -- especially for males. On the one hand
they didn't want to make men look like girls or children, but on the other
hand, the pubic hair had to go.

Permanently.

The general consensus was that it looked overly strange for a man to end up
with a bald groin and a hairy backside and legs, so the compromise was to
permanently exfoliate them from the lower chest all the way to the toes,
and every orifice in between and be done with it!

It wasn't rocket science - in fact they used the same kind of exfoliating
astringents that many women still purchased over the counter to rid
themselves of body hair; the modern day solutions being a damn sight more
pleasant than ripping hair follicles out with wax, or using caustic
chemicals that could burn the skin.

Using sprays of the exfoliating solutions, they were scrubbed
mercilessly. The products they used were well developed and easily
dissolved the current growth leaving the individual smooth as a proverbial
baby's bottom!

Finally they were meticulously groomed with laser brushes that targeted and
killed the roots and hair follicles themselves. As a result, from the chest
down all, like himself, would remain completely smooth for the rest of
their lives. It didn't look too bad.

Following the initial good scrub up (and many of them reeked bad), they
were given over to the medical admissions team who assessed them for
physical adaptations. A treatment plan was formulated and then, for the
rest of that day, medical technology improved them.

In the time they had, they couldn't do everything, but they could do a lot.

If there were scars, they were excised and the skin seamlessly reformed. If
there was any form of tattooing, it would be lifted and the skin
regenerated.  Bad teeth were extracted and replaced by implants that could
bind into the jawbone quickly; even if a tooth were only filled, it was
pulled and replaced. Disease and dysfunction were treated. Muscles were
toned with bio-electrical stimulus. Melanin producing cells were activated
to give a rapid-tanned, healthy looking complexion.

All in all, they got a pretty good high-end makeover, which continued apace
through the day and throughout the following night.

People could -- and did -- pay an awful lot of money for that kind of
attention, and the PR department constantly informed the world that those
undergoing this `helpful' treatment would be so much better off than they
were before. On the surface it was literally true, as most came out
stronger, healthier and younger looking; made ready to enter their new
lives.

On the second day, they were brought into the surgical theatres to receive
the penile implants that had been prepared for them.

A simple circumferential penile incision allowed the whole of the shaft
skin literally to be peeled back; it wasn't a place for the squeamish! Then
the fibrous sheath was fitted around the full circumference and length from
the root of the shaft to the head, where it culminated in the mating
ring. The ring was embedded just beneath the coronal ridge and into the
sulcus, and was the point of union through which the Machine would mate
with them the following day.

When it came to sheer volume of nerve endings, the genital in both male and
female were well endowed! It made the location extremely suitable for
placing the implants and despite what the gutter humour declared, the
physicians didn't just end up hooking the implants into the genitals
because they liked the idea of seeing people well and truly fucked! In
fact, the penis and clitoris ticked all the boxes, including massive
networks of sensory nerve branches as well as degree of privacy.

The fibrous sheath was a masterpiece of bio-technology and was as alive as
theology would allow, teeming with intelligent swarming nano-bots that
would quickly begin growing tendrils that invaded the tissues; spreading
like wild grass around the sensitive sex organs and splicing into the
plethira of nerve bundles in the region.

Carefully guided, these same tendrils would be trained from the nerve
bundles to track back up into the spine, penetrating the central nervous
system and the brainstem.

Finally, as the medical operators drew the skin back over the penile shaft,
the male was radically circumcised or substantially retightened if already
previously cut. All the surgery was computer guided and quickly and easily
achieved with laser scalpels. The circumcisions were done as tight as
possible for maximum effect and sexual pleasure, as well as to permanently
remove any skin that could interfere with the mating ring.

Finally, the existing bio-technologies meant that the wounds could be
closed in minutes, without scarring and, other than the ring, there would
be no outward sign of the network of technology that now invaded them.

All in all, it was pretty amazing and they were left to sleep it off as the
complete bio-fiber invasion and integration into the central nervous system
took about 8 hours. Once he had processed this twelve the previous day, the
Attendant had gone home to sleep, leaving them in stasis whilst the
physical adaptations matured.

The following morning would be the third day for any that were brought to
this place for the treatment they had been prescribed; the day by which all
the internal and external transformations would be complete and they would
be fully ready for their encounter with the Machine.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-

For the twelve - and not counting Jack - the law had decided their fate and
there were surely those here that deserved that and some that possibly
didn't. Either way, they had been judged and found wanting; and now around
they were facing a wanting of a different nature as the last moments were
fast approaching.

Immobilised and probed, most were staring wildly, searching for a reprieve
that would never come and fearfully observing each other as they all
stumbled on the brink. Cries of dismay multiplied alongside increasing
sounds of severe discomfort and unwelcome pleasure as the compelling
purpose of the Machine mounted.

With the lighting focusing their attention, every eye was on the Attendant
as he slowly filled his hands with gel and began to gently masturbate the
black boy. The young man looked down at it, surprised and then horrified,
frantically jerking his groin to try to shake off the assailant, but doing
nothing more than to accentuate the rhythm.

"Fuck.....Noooooooo...!" he groaned. Mesmerised and in a foggy haze of
confusion, it reminded him of the many times he had jerked himself to
climax when any of the girls that usually provided his ride were not
available.

Unexpectedly, from the end of the room came a long high pitched moan as
little Noah was broken and climaxed, and the Machine finally crossed his
barriers of resistance and consummated the sexual encounter. For him, the
struggle ended as he slipped into unconsciousness and his young body
relaxed. The pleasure took over as the Machine now kept him in a low level
orgasmic state whilst. The mental resistance ended, it continued to fully
map him out in preparation for the final step.

The Attendant looked over, relieved for him. The dampers were still in
place, so it wasn't quite over yet, but, right now he would be in heaven!

For the others, the sound of completion was a death knell.

"Shit...." someone else muttered, sliding dangerously close to the edge too
now. Caleb Montgomery gasped the expletive, profoundly shocked by the
increasing compulsive power the Machine was wielding over him. The last
couple of minutes had felt like a lifetime; fighting the idea of one
singular condition that had suddenly consumed his world.

'Homosexual!', the condemnation cried.

Ashamed, confused, conflicted.

Wasn't he a failure enough, without confirming this worst of crimes? Other
than the embarrassingly small dick, which he had tried -- but failed - to
ignore (although, had he cared about such things at that moment, he would
have been fairly satisfied with the respectable and rock-hard tube that, as
if by magic, had been forced out from between his legs), he had always
perceived himself as much better than most other people.

But, to be gay? It wasn't possible and he couldn't face it and had fought
all the harder to deny and dispel the accusation.

To no avail.

His interest - even infatuation - with the boy, Ben, shouted the truth of
it. Then the sound of another boy, climaxing, shot across the room and
reverberated with his deep desire; and all his denial collapsed as he
watched the black kid being jerked -- unable to take his eyes off the
enormous flanged head his ethnic heritage had endowed him with. The
majestic milky-pink shape stood atop of his thick black shaft like a kingly
crown; the metal of the connecting collar flashing like royal jewelry.

Deep down, he could hear it sing to him with a melody that he recognised
and with a voice that called him out of his confusion.

He knew he was already falling and that his grip had been broken; there
would be precious little to hold on to when it came back for him - probably
for the final time!

`FUCK, WHO CARES!' he screamed to himself and, in the last 13 seconds of
his life as he knew it, he sang and joined in the familiar melody.

With Noah gone, the Attendant gave his attention back to the dark one.

He was writhing now as the Machine was fully exerting its unstoppable
compulsion on him. Every muscle seemed in spasm and he flapped his head
from side to side, trying to dislodge the unseen assailant. His whole body
glistened with perspiration. The Attendant checked the monitor and could
see green lights. This one didn't even need to wait for the final step; in
his case everything was already mapped and ready to go forward to the
Remodeling stage.

In seconds he would go the same way as Noah anyway, and the Attendant
decided to push him through to the final ejaculation immediately, guessing
the impact would probably break most of the rest of them. He reached to the
console at the post and removed the dampers then added the command to
culminate the process as soon as primary access was attained.

The Machine responded immediately and the boy's legs vibrated in the
stirrups with his final efforts to keep control.

With another dollop of gel, the Attendant coated his swollen member until
it glistened and slid under his firm grip.

The Machine struck into the core of his being and the locks broke;
simultaneously, it sent strong pulsating electrical and mechanical shocks
through the sheath around the shaft of his penis and the boy couldn't help
himself and started pushing through the hand grip, pumping uncontrollably.

The Attendant was aware of what would be happening. "It's time, and you
want to," he suggested simply.

The eyes of every person in the group stared aghast at the scene, each
facing their own personal agony.

"No! No! -- No...," the boy squealed frantically, eyes popping and the
veins bulging in his neck!

And then it happened. He looked shocked and took a sharp intake of breath
and then capitulated with a guttural shout.

"OH GOD!  FUCK...YEEEESSSSSS.......!!!" he cried. An animalistic scream of
pure sex ripped from his body and, unable to hold out any more, he
willingly gave in to the desperate need to complete the coupling.

It was cataclysmic for almost the whole group.

Even before he ejaculated, it became `YES!" for at least 3 of the others,
including young Caleb Montgomery who had reveled in 13 seconds of glorious
truth, fully accepting his identity before it was snatched away. Even the
Hispanic boy, who had been first to be tethered by the mating collar, was
pushed into oblivion. They all gave in and cries of pleasure were ripped
out of them as they were dominated and willingly brought to climax.

Widely around the room, now, there were moans of desperation from those
still teetering.

Then the Machine set off an explosion deep in the core of the young black
boy's being. Pain and pleasure mixed, such that the boy could no longer
tell the difference between the two. At that moment of climactic overload
there was a momentary hiatus and then he began ejaculate. Huge spurts of
white semen arched onto his chest and stomach; the splashes contrasting
sharply with his dark flesh. In his brain, white fire now raced as the
Machine seared its ownership on every pathway, beginning the process of
burning out the old rights of access to key parts of his mind and sexual
response and hard wiring new ones into place. It was creating a new
superhighway, paved and guarded; and from the mating ring through to every
part of the brain it chose to access, rights of way would be established
that the young black boy would never again be able to deny.

The pleasure and pain of this stage were overwhelming for the
individual. It was never very clear to the researches whether the Machine
actually put them to sleep at this point, or whether they just passed out
from the burning fire, but all quickly went comatose as it continued its
quest to create a new order; a new brain hierarchy; a dissolving of old
synapses and the developing of new ones.

Regime change.

It was not quick however, often taking several hours before the phase was
completed. Only then, with control assured, could the Attendant disconnect
them from the mating ring prior to moving them to the sleep storage areas
where, easily mated again, the Machine began the complex task of
re-engineering their personalities.

The black boy passed out and slumped back against the couch as though
dead. The Attendant took a few moments to quickly check the monitor
readouts to assess that he was OK and that the neuro-synaptic realignment
processes were evolving normally. All was within normal parameters.

Realising it had gone quiet, he looked up to see how the others were doing
and was not at all surprised to find that, by then, they had all succumbed
and were now in the same relaxed low level orgasmic state as the young boy,
Noah.

All, that is, apart from the older man Jack, and the two young gay
teens. These three had been mated to the Machine somewhat later than the
others and still had several minutes left before the Machine would take
them.

He came over to Jack who was straining and still holding on for some
reason. He glanced at little Noah who was resting back on the couch, fully
relaxed now, his small body convulsing slightly every three or four
seconds, as each orgasmic release discharged into his central cortical
pleasure zone to stimulate him.

"How's the boy?" Jack gasped, still fighting the onslaught, but wanting to
be sure his charge was in safe hands before it ended.

"He's fine Jack. Enjoying this very much now, by the looks of it," he
replied, though a little concerned for the man. "Why don't you join him?
It's what you wanted isn't it?" He looked at the monitor. Jack still had
choices.

"You know, we can always stop this, if you don't want to continue?" Jack
was here by his own volition, not a convict, and he was not one of those
doctors who turned a deaf ear.

Jack shook his head. There would be no going back. He couldn't keep living
like he had been the last 4 years; he had move on. His life depended on it!

"I guess I haven't had sex for so long, it takes a while to get there," he
offered lamely. The Attendant nodded, though knew in reality it made no
difference to the Machine. It would take you just as quickly whatever your
experience previously.

There was something else here, and it was about the boy.

The thought came out of left field for him, but he had learned to heed
himself! He studied the man for a few moments as he considered what he was
thinking. There would be issues, but not insurmountable ones, so why not?
Both could do a lot worse...

"You know he's an orphan, don't you?"

Jack grimaced and then nodded. What a crap hand the kid had been dealt! "Do
you think he'll be alright - I mean how will they treat him after this?"

The Attendant shrugged and shook his head. "It worries you?"

"Of course it worries me! Damn -- he's just a kid!"

"So, would you consider adopting him?" he suggested quietly; years of
learning about people helping him sense the truth. "I get the feeling that
you could both do with a friend from now on."

The man grimaced again, and his face twisted in an effort to
concentrate. "You're kidding!"

"You mean you don't care?"

"I didn't say that...but..."

"But what?"

"Look at me! Would that be even possible?" he demanded hoarsely.

The Attendant shrugged. "You're not a criminal Jack -- you're just getting
some help. Anyway, I don't see why not...especially if I requested it as
part of both your recovery plans. Would you like to explore it, at the very
least?"

The man nodded, hopeful for once - the distraction of a new future allowing
the Machine to slide into him fully.

Maybe....yes, I think so -- just to ask a few questions, that's all. Ask
the boy first...only if he wants it."

The Attendant nodded and Jack stiffened and then sighed. "I think I'm about
to leave you," he groaned, relaxing at last. He was finished and the
Machine knew it. As the pleasure increased, his new lover triggered the
orgasm it had been preparing for him, bringing him to a climax for the
first time in their relationship.

He slipped away.

Satisfied, the Attendant moved over to the two young gay boys; the last
ones left for the Machine to gather to itself. On the way, he stopped by
each of the others to check they were comfortable. It took him a little
longer than it should have and, by the time he reached the boys and looked
at the monitors, he berated himself; they had been at this a full eighteen
minutes since the Machine had mated to them.

That was a lifetime.

They were still both resisting grimly, both knowing that every minute
counted and that they had much more to lose than all the others. Not just
losing themselves, but each other too. The strain was intense on both their
flushed, hot faces as the Machine attacked, again and again, trying to
command their bodies to respond to its intense desire to trigger the
primeval response to copulate.

The two were fighting the inclination by will power alone, but the struggle
was emotionally painful - it could be even physically painful when it got
to this stage.

The Attendant wanted to end this quickly for them. There was no point in
enduring real suffering when the conclusion would be the same, however hard
they tried to avoid it. Soon the Machine would start resorting to the
equivalent of blunt force trauma to get its way, and that could be
indescribably unpleasant!

He wondered what it was that kept the two of them going and, almost
instinctively, having made this journey more than 7 years ago just as they
were now, he knew.

Love.

Love would go to endless lengths to stay true - however much pain it
caused. But the needless suffering should end and break them he must before
the Machine did that in ways that even he didn't care to see!

LOVE......and its cousin, LUST.

So closely bound together were those two that, at times, it was hard to
tell the difference. Whilst love was strong in them, lust would still
conquer. He instructed the Machine to add this as part of the arsenal it
was wielding against the two and it began to suggest and remind from
extracted memory fragments.

Sex, love, mutual masturbation - and that last time in the school medical
room, when Nathan had entered Ben with such passion. The Machine took these
fragments and briefly interpreted what it understood them to be. The
Attendant nodded in satisfaction at the review results. It would be Nathan
who was the key after all.

On command, the Machine adapted itself and he observed Nathan close his
eyes and shake his head, trying to clear it. He then rotated the couch on
which Ben, the younger one was secured, so the two boys were facing each
other. Nathan opened his eyes and found himself staring at the familiar
body of his younger lover: and quailed.

Upping the pressure, the Attendant twisted round to Ben again. Taking some
some gel he traced his finger down around under the sensitive perineum and
then, without warning, slid his finger into the boy's anal cavity.

"OH FUCK!" Ben cried out - quite accurately - at the unexpected intrusion.

"When Nathan entered you...did it feel like this?" the Attendant
murmured. Adjacent, Nathan watched, horrified and feverish, vividly
recalling the last time he had pushed deep into his lover.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-

The memory-flashback seared through Ben's consciousness.

It had been in the medical room at school and they'd spotted some medical
lubricant and had used most of it, which was a good job because it had been
animalistic!

Having closed and locked the door securely, kissing and feeling had rapidly
escalated! He'd initially intended just to snog the socks off Nate as a
teasing birthday gift - something to keep him occupied until they could get
alone together at his house later that day. Then they'd spotted the tube on
the side and started playing.

Because his boyfriend was circumcised, Ben had learned over time that Nate
found it better and a lot more enjoyable with some kind of slippery lube
rather than dry and always had a tube handy in his top drawer. What
astounded him was that Nate's Mom seemed to be OK with the idea that her
son must masturbate, would need lubrication, AND was willing to keep him
topped up! Good God - he would never dare ask his folks about ANYTHING like
that! EVER!

But Nate had what he needed and, between the two of them, they used quite a
bit of it!

With the doors of the medical room safely locked, he'd started teasing
Nate. Tantalisingly slowly he'd unzipped him and reached in to feel for
what he was looking for. Nate was already fully erect and excited and
didn't stop him as he drew him out of his underwear - and he certainly
didn't resist as Ben coated him with some of the gel and swirled his
fingers over him; almost exactly as the man was doing to Nate right in
front of him now!

He loved doing that to Nate.

It had been unusual at first, learning the right way to masturbate a
circumcised boy; one whose skin hardly moved compared to his own uncut
dick. But Nate had been patient and gladly helped him learn!

For himself, he'd avoided that the question of that particular surgery for
years but was also aware that, after the most recent annual medical, it had
come up again.

Shit, it was always coming up around Nate! But in terms of being trimmed,
and knowing how much Nate enjoyed being that way, he was warming to the
idea. And that lunchtime, in the medical room, he was up again! Nate could
tell and, without hesitation, took his zip down too and released him from
his over-tight boxers!

Giggling like to little boys but getting increasingly aroused, they kept
going to the next level. Playing with zips moved quickly to undoing buttons
and opening up trousers fully as they fought to increase the physical
contact. He'd pushed Nate back onto the examination couch that had been
helpfully left for them, and had gone to work in earnest on him; pulling
his trousers and boxers right down to his knees prior to delivering his
birthday gift.

But before Nate blew, he had come off him and reached for the tube of lube
again. Nate had watched him quizzically as he'd sat up and coated his
backside lube and then grinned as he'd watched Ben provocatively squeeze
most of the rest of the tube inside.

It was a risk, but the door was locked and both boys were up for it.

Fully aroused, Nate had kicked off his pants and underwear and made room
for him on the medical couch -- one that looked not unlike the ones they
were bound to now. Pushing his own briefs down to his ankles, he'd had
stepped of them, pulled off his shirt and climbed onto the medical bed too.

Perhaps the surroundings were a turn on because it got pretty steamy!

They moved against each other and kissed and humped for a few moments. Ben
knew that he could, at times, wrap his boyfriend around his little
finger. Other times, Nate could be sensually powerful and would take
control.

Today was one of those times and, wasting no time, he'd flipped him onto
his back, growled possessively and fully mounted him, burying himself hard
and fast in his lover. Like animals, they gave themselves to the moment,
unaware of the camera watching every thrust as Nate had driven deep inside
him. And when Nate had ejaculated, he'd had to smother the ecstatic screams
that burst out, but then pressed down on Ben's dripping erection and
continued pumping him until he also erupted between them!

It had been some of the most intense sex they had ever shared - and proved
to be more or less the last as, two days later, the police picked them up.

 -~-~-~-~-~-~-

The Attendant withdrew the single finger and then slowly slid in two,
beginning to masturbate Ben's shaft as Nathan watched. Whilst he regretted
the violation, he knew the boy would remember little of it after the white
fire of the Synaptic Remodeling. And bringing the end was the priority now.

For Nathan, he no longer had any reserves left. For however minutes they
had been attached, he had desperately tried to save himself for Ben alone,
but this new lover, The Machine, was now wanting to couple with him. Deep
inside himself he was being enticed, lured, tempted; he was being seduced.

"Ben.....I'm sorry," he moaned desperately as he shook, helpless now.

"Nate! Please....no...don't..."

"I can't anymore...I need to.....I...." Nate got no further, as the
enormous compulsion to make love became unbearable and he was finally being
persuaded.

Muscles that had, moments before, squirmed in resistance now contracted and
he arched his back and backside off the couch; like the black boy, he began
thrusting demandingly into hand that held him. Gone now was any thought for
Ben, and even the Attendant was not really there with him anymore and he
was even unaware that, in those last moments, the hand had been
masturbating him withdrew as something else approached him.

It certainly wasn't a `he', but it wasn't really a `she' either. Perhaps it
was both - or even neither?

Though there was no physical body, the being was fully present in his mind,
controlling his every thought and feeling.  His resistance crumbled, it
came to him like an Angel without gender and mounted him as he had mounted
Ben, lowering itself fully onto him. At last the coupling was made and it
began to ride him to the orgasm it said he needed and deserved.

The Angel was skilled, knowing what he wanted, but giving so much
more. Connecting the now pure physical mating as it held him inside and
milked his erection, to the emotional union that was taking place at the
very core of his being, the love-making progressed effortlessly. Completely
unaware of his surroundings now - of Ben, the Attendant, the Treatment
Room, the process of reorientation, everything - he squealed and begged for
the full unhindered intimacy that would be sealed by his release. The Angel
seemed to smile and, covering him protectively, completed the mating.

Time stood still.

The light entered and infused him and the orgasms began.

The Attendant turned to Ben. Loss had conquered him.

As he had watched Nathan being manipulated and, seeing him clearly about to
climax and be taken away, it had broken him. If Nate was gone, he didn't
want to be alone anymore and, with a quiet sigh, gave up to the
compulsion. He now lay relaxed and unaware. Like all the others, convulsing
lightly every few seconds as, deep in his cortex, the Machine caressed and
pleasured him.

The Attendant looked round with the satisfaction of a professional, having
completed his task well. Other than the black boy who had already passed
into the synaptic realignment phase, he would leave the others for a while
in this relaxed subconscious state until he was ready to bring them to the
surface again. They were happy enough and were totally unaware of what was
going on around them.

As the Machine kept them in this semi-conscious bliss, it was mapping out
their neural pathways. The mapping never usually took too long, and, as in
the case of the young black boy, was sometimes even completed before they
capitulated. Then, as each was ready, he would have to put them through the
final white-hot moments.

For now, he cleaned his hands and began making notes into the computer
files of each patient. He was a little drained and there was still the
Synaptic Remodeling to complete. Even though he had overseen this hundreds
of times, it still took its toll.

After he had written up all the relevant notes, he studied the feed from of
each individual on his master display. All were now ready to be brought to
the final synaptic remodeling, including the young one, Noah.

 Best get it over with, he thought. And he also wanted to talk to the young
lad.

He came over to where the boy was quietly resting and, with a few commands
at the console, gradually raised him out of his stupor. The cortical
stimulus gently dissipated and Noah awoke, stretched and smiled; peaceful
once more.

"That was nice," he sighed. "I think I must have fallen asleep." Then he
blushed as he remembered something of the things he'd been dreaming
about. Good job the man didn't know about that! He looked quickly down and
noticed he was beginning to go soft again, though he still had the funny
ring thing attached.

"You were snoring," the Attendant teased.

"I was not!"

"Was I...?" the boy added.

"No -- just kidding. Just sleeping peacefully. How do you feel?"

Noah considered the question. "OK I guess. I didn't like it at the
beginning and really I don't feel any different. Did it work? Am I better
now?" he asked hopefully.

"Nearly now, Noah...nearly," replied the Attendant. "Actually there was
something I wanted to ask you," he added, changing the subject. "About Jack
here."

The boy looked over to the other bed. "Oh, he's asleep too...let's not wake
him, he looks happy!" he whispered, though elephants would not raise him
until the Machine decided.

Indeed Jack did look happy. Calm, relaxed and a definite smile as the
Machine pleasured him. Noah giggled as he noted the older guy was still
stiff, wondering if he was having sexy dreams too!

The Attendant smiled too and, after glancing at Jack, turned back to Noah
with his proposal. "What would you think about maybe staying with him for a
while after this -- rather than go back to the care home? Maybe he could
even become your Dad, if it worked out? I know he would like that."

Noah looked surprised and thought about it for a few moments. He'd been put
in many places, and had never liked any of the adults. They were mean and
angry and made his life hell. But, instinctively, he did like Jack - he was
honest and funny and kind.

"How do you know he wants me to stay with him?" he asked, suspiciously.

"We talked about it -- and you -- earlier; just before he went to sleep."

"Really...?"

"Yes, really! So...what do you want to do? Shall I tell him you might like
to...and don't forget you've got a basketball match to go to as well!"

Noah slowly smiled at the memory of that promise. "OK -- yes - I think I
might like it, " he decided. "Should we wake him and tell him?"

"Maybe later -- and I'm sorry about this Noah," he said, as he lifted the
dampers and instructed the Machine to make the final step.

"Sorry? About what?" the boy replied, confused. "Oh, it's that nice feeling
again! Don't be sorry, I like it!"

He blushed again and then sighed in anticipation as something remarkably
familiar and exciting came back to him and the Machine began to stimulate
the pleasure tracts as a precursor to orgasm. He quickly grew erect and
began gasping with the intense feelings. The Attendant lowered the backrest
and returned the legs to the normal horizontal position.

And then the boy cried as, responding to commands, the Machine overloaded
him and triggered the ejaculatory climax. The burning pain overwhelmed him
and, as he screamed, the Attendant held him close until he finally blacked
out.

One by one, the group known as M-9985201.12 all felt the white fire that
burned their minds, and they helplessly endured it until they lost
consciousness.

Last of all, he came to the older man, Jack, and raised him to a wakeful
state again.

"Killjoy!" Jack muttered. "I was enjoying that!" He stretched, and looked
around, seeing everyone else now lying flat and comatose.

"I guess I'm the last?" he surmised with a rueful smile. "And Noah...is he
OK?" he added. "I've heard that Synaptic Remodeling isn't exactly
pleasant."

The Attendant nodded. "He's fine Jack. It's done now, and he won't remember
any of it," he replied as he slowly rotated the man back down on the couch
to the same position as everyone else; the same position that they had
begun in less than two hours ago, when they were first brought to the
Treatment Room.

He removed the damper overrides, and instructed the Machine to progress
this last one to the final stage.

Like all the others, Jack came back to a full erection as the Machine,
still tethering him via the umbilical and the collar, called to him
again. Like every one of them who had willingly coupled not many minutes
earlier, he responded. However wrong or strange or unseemly it felt for a
non-living machine to be having sex with him, his body just accepted it,
because now there was nothing there that he could latch on to that could
stop it. He didn't even care to try as it seemed to know what he liked and
did things to him that he had never even considered before!

"Oh, by the way," the Attendant dropped in, conversationally, "I asked Noah
about adoption and about maybe coming to live with you."

Jack opened his eyes, though conversation was becoming quite difficult as
his new lover raised him higher and higher.

"And....??"

"I go the idea that he would like that very much!"

Jack smiled. He knew now he really would like it too. Hopefully all this
would be over soon and they both might have some chance of building a new
life. Perhaps together?

"It's going to hurt isn't it" he grunted as his whole body shuddered and he
realised the command to ejaculate was close.

"I'm afraid so, Jack," the Attendant replied frankly. "But, like Noah,
you're not going to remember any of it either," he added as he set off the
final command.

"But will I remember him...Noah...will I still know who he is? Will he know
me?" he demanded frantically. But it was too late to hear an answer as the
explosive charge fired and the white fire burned through his brain and he
finally spewed huge spurts of thick white fluid over his torso.

Certain things were in his power the Attendant knew. I'll make sure you do,
he promised himself and, if they'd been conscious, they would have seen a
look of smug satisfaction cross his face.

CHAPTER SIX
by Riley Jericho
rileyjericho@yahoo.com


Noah woke. His mouth felt dry and his head throbbed slightly.

Crap -- what time was it?

He opened his eyes, expecting to see Donny still asleep as usual, or at
least the white ceiling. The ceiling? Yes, it was white, but it wasn't the
right one. He heard movement. Turning his head to the left he saw a man
standing at some unknown computer thing. For a moment he felt completely
disorientated.

This wasn't his bedroom, or any place in the care home. Where was he? Why
couldn't he move his arms or legs? Who was this man?

He sniffed and his nose flared. It didn't even smell like his bedroom!

Then, in a rush, it all came flooding back.

He'd been restricted to his room all day and most of the day before; on
lockdown after they'd picked him up at the Mall. He hadn't really been
running away -- at least not this time -- but he'd been in no hurry to get
back either; that was the truth!

They'd been a bit pissed. He had been told earlier that morning that there
was to be a `meeting'; they were probably downstairs in the office, talking
about him right now! Crap - he hoped it wouldn't end up him having to be
hypo-ed!

Secretly, he'd stopped taking the tablets. Quite a number of kids here were
put on tablets, but they made him feel lethargic and tired, and at school
it was hard to concentrate and keep up. The tablets were crap!

But if you weren't taking them like you were meant to and they found out,
then they would do you with the hypo instead. Donny was on the hypo now;
these days he just sat around all the time staring at the TV, hardly saying
anything. Or slept. For a while now, he'd been secretly palming the crappy
things and flushing them down the bog; maybe that's what they were mad
about?

He'd fretted for ages before the door opened and one of the assistants had
come to get him. He was one that was usually nice enough, but this time he
didn't speak. Crap -- maybe even he was pissed! The man kept a handgrip
firmly on his shoulder as he'd guided him to the office where they were all
waiting.

He hated the office; you only went in there when you were in trouble. They
were upset at first, reminding him how bad he'd been by running away and by
being rude to others. He guessed they'd figured out about the tablets
too. There were more there than he expected, and a few he'd never seen in
his life before.  But it made him even more nervous when suddenly they
changed tack and seemed to want to be nice!

They sat him on a comfy little sofa and the old hag came and sat next to
him; the care home director. Nasty cow she was; smelly cow too and her BO
made his nose wrinkle. She put her arm around him -- eeewww -- and started
saying how important he was to everyone.

He'd almost burst out laughing!

They said that they'd talked a lot about him and only wanted to
help. They'd all agreed it would be for the best. He'd looked around the
plush room suspiciously. What would be for the best?

They said that they were going to send him somewhere for a few days and he
relaxed a bit. A different care home? A new foster family? Perhaps that was
who the new people were? He didn't care; anything would be better than
where he was! He'd asked them about getting his things, but they'd looked a
little uncomfortable.

The old hag took his hold of his hands as if to comfort him but, too late,
he saw the nasty glint in her eyes. Instinctively, he tried to pull away
but she gripped him hard. Then he'd felt a pinch on his neck.

Crap! They hypo-ed me after all, he grunted. Now he was gonna end up like
Donny!

But he began to feel dizzy. This wasn't anything like the tablets! He
struggled, feeling panicky as the room swam.

It went black.

He remembered waking up in another place; one he'd never been to before -
strapped to some medical bed. It had been really scary. Was this what
they'd meant about helping him?

Then the rest of it tumbled into place. Some 'procedure' he was being
given; and the man who was watching him -- he'd been there too; the
Attendant that had put the funny ring on him, like he had with all the
others.

And Jack. He remembered Jack now -- the nice man.

Despite all that had happened to him, he felt surprisingly calm; almost
detached. "Oh, sorry," he yawned widely. "I must have drifted off again."

He twisted his head to fully scope out the room. "Where's Jack?"

The Attendant turned and smiled. "You're awake!"

"Jack's still sleeping I'm afraid. You'll be able to see him later again,"
he added. "How are you feeling, anyway?" he continued, checking the boy's
vital signs again to see that core brain activity was back within norms.

Noah yawned again. "Oh...OK...a little bit of a headache - not too bad
though. And a bit tired. Hungry too. When's dinner?"

The Attendant nodded, satisfied; the boy had come through it well. The
headache was pretty normal too; a legacy of 3.5 hours of brain
burning. Dinner was off, though, as he would be put to sleep shortly, to
remain unconscious for up to 15 hours; the first of the extended periods of
conditioning the Machine would embark upon.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Normally it took anything from three to five hours to complete the process
of Synaptic Remodeling. Everyone was a little different and it couldn't be
hurried in any way. There was little point in standing there watching and
he would usually leave them to the care of the Machine -- often to go to
attend to some other group that was also under his care.

When the Remodeling was completed, he would finally be able to disconnect
each of them from the umbilical in the knowledge that ongoing access to
their minds was already assured.

One by one he would move them from the Treatment Room to a place where they
could be stored and monitored over the long hours of reconditioning. Each
couch would be docked into a receiving bay where it fitted within a larger
containment module. The module carried all the monitoring equipment,
including its own umbilical and mating collar, and its incumbent was then
squirreled away somewhere by a computerised storage procedure.

And so it was with this group. Whilst each had lain comatose through the
Remodeling phase, he had worked to help prepare the new batch that had
arrived today, wielding brush and solutions to clean them up ready for the
medical inspections. He would see those new ones again soon when he walked
into the Treatment Room the day after tomorrow. As their couches raised
them up, they would see him and know it was beginning for them too.

 -~-~-~-~-~-~-

Group M-9985201 had now completed the Remodeling phase and he'd begun
transferring them from the Treatment Room to the holding areas. As wasn't
uncommon, a few woke up in-between one thing and the next, but most just
continued to sleep through.

He was glad that the boy was awake though and raised the backrest once more
so that Noah could see and he could give him some water to drink. The boy's
arms were still bound to the couch, but he swallowed, gulping down
gratefully as the Attendant offered up a straw. It didn't really matter how
much he drunk as, over the next few days in stasis, the various computers
and maintenance systems would keep him fed and hydrated, and dispose of any
waste.

"You know, Jack asked me to ask you if you wanted to come and stay with him
for a while after this. Maybe just while you both get properly
better. Would you like that?"

"Stay with him?" replied Noah. "With Jack? At his house for a bit, you
mean?"

The Attendant nodded.

"That's so weird!"

He suspected what was coming, but left Noah to finish his thought.

"It's just that that's so funny!" Noah continued, smiling brightly. "so
actually had a dream about that as well...perhaps it's meant to be! It
might be nice though..."

"Well, there you go then," confirmed the Attendant.

It was perhaps one of the small mercies of Synaptic Remodeling that none
ever remembered it; the memory of the burning white fire and agonizing
distress was completely wiped, lest it become a psychological scar that
even the best conditioning couldn't eradicate. The Machine could be
reasonably selective about memory deletion, but the mind was a funny thing
and it wasn't an exact science. For some it meant that much of the time in
the Treatment Room became a bit blurred; the fuzziness increasing closer to
the initiation of Synaptic Remodeling. That the boy could only remember
their previous conversation on this topic as dream was not surprising.

Noah may not have remembered it, but he in the meantime had been busy and
had already been in contact with the Social Care Administrate, expressing
what he felt would be in the interests of his patients! It was one of the
benefits of his job, his seniority, and particularly the fact that he
represented the Centre for Emotional Wellness that few people in other
government departments cared much to argue with him.

If that's what he wanted, that's what he usually got.

It was made easier in that the SCA also knew that, with this case, they
could bypass the normally strict assessment procedures for potential
adopting parents - mainly because the Attendant proposed that the Machine
would easily condition the man to be an ideal candidate for the job! That
said, he was already fairly sure there were no hidden dangers in the man's
psyche when it came to taking on the parenting of this boy - and even if
anything showed up, it would be programmed out.

He was confidant that wasn't needed here... in fact, very little was
needed.

For both of man and boy, there were bad memories that had emotionally
scarred them, but those scars could be healed. The worst of the memories
would be annulled, but not all. There were good memories too, and even some
of the painful ones could be good if they could be understood and managed
in the right way. Sad wasn't always bad, not if it helped you to appreciate
the good things that you now had.

At a profoundly deep level, the man had lost confidence in himself,
carrying a guilt that it had been he that had survived whilst his wife and
child had perished; deep down believing he had failed them at the time they
needed him most. It had emotionally throttled him over many subsequent
years and he'd never been able to form caring relationships since.

That is until this boy touched his life.

All these things could and would be looked into as part of the
reconditioning but, other than that, he only needed -- literally - to be
needed. At the same time, the Attendant planned to load the bases! He would
programme in a strong affinity between the pair; a sense of belonging
together; of love. He planned that they could -- and would - do well.

Playing God? No, he didn't see it that way. It was part of the treatment
plan and, by the time the conditioning was complete, he expected that the
bonded relationship between the two would be another foregone conclusion!

The boy glanced critically at his flaccid penis and at the metallic ring
buried comfortably in the sulcus. "Does this come off before I go home?" he
wondered aloud.

The Attendant shook his head. "No, Noah, that just has to stay there
now. But, don't worry - you'll hardly notice it after a while. Anyway, it
can do some really cool things for you!"

Cool things? Maybe...or maybe not. Whether what came now in their lives was
'cool' depended on your point of view, and was a prime point of contention
for those opposed to this treatment.

Frankly, for the boy (as it would be for all of the twelve), this small
circle of metal was now his one and only route to enjoy any of the
experiences or pleasures of sexuality. Traditional expressions of sex would
be impossible -- either alone or with a partner. It was impossible even to
gain an erection without the Machine, which was now the one that controlled
all the pleasure circuits of the higher brain cortex. Alone in their rooms
- if they had a mind to - they could frantically rub all they liked, but
there could be no arousal; nothing would swell; nothing would spurt. Never
again could they become erect of their own will or by any other form of
visual or manual stimulus with the hope it might lead to climax and
ejaculation.

It was pretty straightforward now. They just simply couldn't anymore!

Even if they tried to combine the two by connecting to the Machine whilst
bedding a girl - apart from the slight problem that the umbilical got in
the way (although they were looking at solving that) - the hard fact was
this; even if they did wear the ring and tried to engage in a sexual
encounter - penetrative or not - with a female, the girl knew it was
actually the Machine he was making love to (and vice-versa), not her.

And that was quite hard to swallow!

On the other hand, the Machine could create sexual experiences for those
who were mated to it that were unheard of by those who had never known its
caress.

What was better? He had no idea. In that respect, he could no longer
remember anything about what was before the time the Machine first made its
union with him. It felt right. Isn't that all that mattered he wondered
about it as he slid off the umbilical from the control; preparing to mate
the boy again prior to putting him to sleep once more. Noah looked somewhat
apprehensive, still able to recall some of the early parts of his last time
with that little collar.

"Do you have to put that thing on again...it's not very nice really!" he
muttered.

The Attendant grinned confidently. "Believe me, young man, this is now
nothing like it was before. It will never hurt again. In fact, trust me,
you're going to love it!"

"Does it always fit on there?" Noah asked, still not convinced, nodding to
his small ring.

"Yes, it does."

"Will Jack always have one too?"

"He sure will...you'll be like two peas in a pod!" the Attendant laughed.

The boy thought about it a moment. "That will be OK then. I was a bit
worried about going back to the home, 'cos they might think it weird, or
laugh, or something. But if we're the same, it won't really matter will it?
I think staying with Jack for a bit will be a good idea," he decided.

The kid was so cute!

Again, the Attendant wondered whether any of this had been necessary for
the boy. Didn't he just need someone who cared about him? Well, it was much
too late for that. What was done was done and there could be no going back
now.

One thing the boy would not need to worry about though, was feeling
embarrassed about having the implants or being mated to the Machine. The
conditioning saw to that and, within a few days, he would actually be
perfectly happy to drop his trousers without a second thought if it were
required. Getting them to remember to put them on in the first place was
more of a challenge!

It's not that those treated like this became exhibitionists; it's just that
they would be conditioned not to feel awkward or sensitive about their new
physical attributes and sexual identity.

It would be their life now.

He gently slipped on the collar and, after a moment of hesitancy, Noah
squeaked with delight as the Machine initiated the low level orgasmic
discharge that he had learned to enjoy.

"Now that's really nice!" he agreed as his breathing began to deepen. He
relaxed and flushed slightly as the Machine caressed him again. This time,
it was not at all like he had worried it might be. In fact, it was quite a
surprise - a really, really good surprise!

It certainly didn't hurt or make him feel desperate or tense. He just
suddenly felt really good - a deep down incredible good; damn sexy good, in
fact! It was almost as if he was watching from a distance. It was him, but
then it wasn't him. It was a bit confusing, but with feelings like this,
who cared!

And then the nice buzzing extended to his willy and, as he watched it,
something other than him decided it was going to grow again. The feeling
was delicious as he stiffened up.

"There," smiled the Attendant with a smirk. "That didn't take long did it?"

Noah grinned shyly. "Why did it do that?"

"The Machine did it Noah - it likes to make you feel good," he replied.

"It can do this too!" he added as he touched the screen to gradually
increase the degree of cortical stimulation. Noah gasped and his back
arched as the stimulation grew and, physically, every part of his body
seemed alive and dancing to the tune that was being played. It was a new
tune to him, but he found himself quickly joining in the song as the
Machine made love to him.

Slowly the Attendant lowered him down flat again and the Machine continued
to bring him close to orgasm, but not quite to release. A classic Machine -
engineered experience, it was able to create a sensation similar to the
ecstatic feeling most men have just on the brink of ejaculation; but one
that just never ended. It could keep this up for hours and in such a way
that the individual would never tire of the stimulation.

Noah continued to shudder and groan in pleasure as fluid welled up and
dripped from the end of his small circumcised glans. The Attendant watched
him fondly, glad to see how quickly the boy had seemed to adapt to the new
situation; it would make the upcoming task of conditioning much easier for
the Machine. He could tell Noah would take to a new way of life easily
enough.

"And it can do this," he whispered into the boy's ear, as the Machine set
off the deep and satisfying ejaculation. Not the screamingly painful one of
a few hours ago, but one that consumed the boy with beautiful pleasure and
took him gently back into unconsciousness in preparation for conditioning.

The Attendant smiled and locked the couch into the docking module. The
sides came up into position to keep him from falling out, and the Attendant
finally released the arm and leg restraints.

Childlike and peaceful now, the boy slept and the Attendant drew a sheet
across him to keep him comfortable. As the machinery drew him away to rest
for a while, he rolled comfortably over onto his side, still connected via
the umbilical, dreaming of a new life that was coming.

He processed the rest, and most slept through it, including Jack, who
snored slightly. At least it made him human - or mostly human - the
Attendant smirked to himself!

One that woke that he really would have preferred to stay comatose, was the
Hispanic lad.

Once he had got his voice back.....which was dry and cracked, he launched
streams of venom at the Attendant. Still, it was his duty to care, so the
Attendant lifted him upright and gave him something to drink. The teen
drank deeply for himself and then took another mouthful and spat it at
him. Fortunately he wasn't too good a shot on that occasion either, and it
mostly went over his clinical coat.

Pulling angrily at his restraints, the young man looked to his groin and
realised he was no longer tethered to the umbilical.

"FUCK YOU!" he screamed in triumph. "So it failed after all; the fucking
Machine couldn't do it. And now you're as good as dead!" he threatened. He
had no idea how he would escape - but he would. And he'd cut the balls off
this fucking fairy and jam them down his throat.

The Attendant watched him dispassionately. It was a common mistake those
that came out of the phase of Synaptic Remodeling often made; feeling
pretty much as they had before they came to the Centre, it didn't seem as
if anything had changed.

Again, it only seemed that way!

Perhaps, by this time, they were expecting to be zombies of some
description, or they would no longer able to remember who they were? The
assumption was that the process had failed on them - just as this Hispanic
boy, Carlos, clearly believed!

The Attendant had been irritated with him since he first arrived. Like all
of them, he'd tried to give Carlos his best professional attention, but now
he just lost patience at last and decided to end the matter.

"Oh, I shouldn't worry," he said softly, "I think everything went pretty
smoothly. Shall I show you?"

The boy looked confused; rebuffed by the lack of concern the Attendant
seemed to hold. A touch of dread touched him as the umbilical was slipped
out and he was mated to the Machine once more.

The Attendant only very slightly regretted doing this to him as he
instructed the Machine to disable the normal erection response; a simple
case of manipulating human physiology. For a man who was not used to the
Machine (and certainly before there had been any conditioning to reorient
his thinking), this could be incredibly off-putting and disturbing. Sex
without an erection was outside of their normal experience.

With this major external and physical sign of arousal fully disabled, the
psychological impact remained as the cortical arousal flew into action. He
didn't stand a chance. However hard he desperately willed something else,
it seemed to happen without him. The Machine showed him pleasure too, as it
jolted him again and again.

He frantically searched inside himself for some answer to his dilemma, but
found nothing as he was brought closer and closer to climax. Such was the
complete and utter control over him, it was a mere 15 seconds later, and
with a completely soft penis, that his toes curled and he squealed, "Oh
God....Nnnnggghh......!" and ejaculated spectacularly; a rapid and
rhythmical pumping flushing his semen onto the couch where his long flaccid
member hung.

With a look of dismay and resignation as he came down from the orgasm, all
he could say was, "Oh Fuck...!" and then the Machine dropped him into
oblivion. The Attendant wiped up the mess and sent him on his way.

Coming to the end now, the Attendant massaged a tight muscle on his
shoulder. It had been a long day. Tiring in ways he hadn't expected.

"Where's Ben?"

The voice was dull, filled with loss and failure. He turned slowly to
observe the owner, Nathan, the elder of the two young homosexual boys. The
last of his charges, the Attendant had assumed he was asleep like most of
the others, and had been busy setting up the docking module.

"He's asleep, Nathan."

"Asleep and being changed, you mean. Conditioning -- reorientation. Isn't
that what you all call it ...?" Nathan replied with soft bitterness and
self-recrimination. "It wasn't his fault! He was only fourteen for God's
sake and I let him down and now I've ruined his life!"

"Nathan, you knew what had to happen. There's no point in doing this to
yourself now."

"Who said it had to happen?" Nathan demanded angrily. "You? Someone else?
We weren't harming anyone. We were doing well in school and everything
else. What was so wrong?"

"It's the law Nathan," the Attendant replied simply. "Sex between boys is
wrong." As he spoke, he once more mated the boy to the Machine.

Nathan didn't even seem to notice the connection being made again.

"Wrong? WRONG?!" he shouted. "I can't help it...I love him -- how can that
be wrong!" He was flushed and emotional. "And anyway, how the hell would
you know? It's just a job to you!" he cried.

With the freedom that only comes to those who are conditioned, the
Attendant sighed and gently slipped down his loose medical slacks and
underwear to reveal the outcome of his own personal confrontation with the
Machine - the smooth skin where hair never grew anymore and the still tight
circumcision. A simple metallic ring nestled into his sulcus.

"You?" breathed Nathan, aghast, and then after a moment staring at the
Attendant in confusion, he added, "Why?"

"His name was Lucas," the Attendant offered with a shrug.

"You? You're... gay?" Nathan whispered in disbelief.

The Attendant nodded, his eyes flickering with memories lost.

"Then...yes. They said I...we...had homosexual tendencies," he added
softly. It seemed a distant thing now. "But I still saw him afterwards --
for a while. We stayed friends, just like you and Ben could still be
friends."

"But didn't you want more than 'just friends'?" Nathan burst out; tears now
spilling down his anguished face.

For the first time in more years than he could remember, the Attendant felt
a painful knot in his stomach. Could it have ever been different? Had he
lost something; something more important than just a friend?

"For pity's sake, why are you doing this? You of all people?" the boy
pleaded, his face awash with emotion. "You must know what you're doing to
us? Didn't you love him?"

It was with an unexpected sadness that the Attendant stared back into the
pain that once, a long time ago, had mirrored his own.

"I don't know," he admitted helplessly, touched by the despair. "So much
changed...I...I...I can't even remember anymore why it was so
important...."

As Nathan broke and sobbed, the Attendant lowered him into the darkness
that would change him too, ensuring that he also forgot who he really was.