The Dionysus Project

The prison van drew to a halt outside the ominous block of black glass that served as the Research Centre of the Genesis Corporation. The black sheets parted to allow Dean, in chains, followed by Watkins and another guard to step into a bright white room. They stood before the camera and all three looked up into the unblinking lens.

A buzzer sounded and a green light appeared where one it had glowed red. All three men stepped into a large bright foyer littered with elegant, expensive furniture.

"Dino, it seems very comfortable," Watkins told his prisoner. "I thought it might be some sort of hospital. They talked about nurses. This is like a hotel." Dino nodded, but Watkins sensed he was nervous, so he approached the woman behind a brilliant white desk who offered all three men a winning smile.

"Delivery for Dr Moriarty. One prisoner."

The receptionist placed a call and asked the three men to be seated. After five minutes Moriarty appeared, wearing a white coat and carrying a clipboard. She offered Watkins only a cursory smile as he handed over the paperwork.

"You can leave him here. I have some matters to attend to before we begin our processing."

"Sorry, Doctor, but we need to take him to a secure location. That means somewhere with doors and locks. Then he's your responsibility."

The doctor was significantly less sociable than their first meeting, and Watkins was irritated by her dismissive tone as she led the three men to the lift and pressed for the fifth floor. She studied her notes while the booth rose, only the changing red number on the screen by the door indicating any sense of movement. The doors parted without a sound and they stepped out into a spacious hallway surrounded by glass walls.

Moriarty led the prison party to one of the doors. She punched a number into the key pad and the tiny red light over the door turned to green. They stepped into another reception area staffed by a nurse in a short white tunic. She offered a reverent welcome to Moriarty and cast a lustful glance at the young prisoner, setting her pen in her mouth. Another glass door and then they entered what appeared to be a doctor's consulting room. There was a bed on wheels along with what appeared to be a dentist's chair. Watkins was unsettled to see that both bed and chair were adorned with leather straps. He had witnessed many unsavoury moments in his twenty three years in the prison service, but he knew that straps were only for the hard core, dangerous cases. Young Dino was just a youngster who made a mistake and was almost through paying for his misguided loyalty.

They passed through another set of doors and walked along a passageway before ending their journey in a bare room with only one small window above the eye line. There was a simple bed with a stand and a chair. The guard laid the sack with Dean's belongings on the bed.

"Where's the wardrobe?" Watkins asked.

"Not all of the furniture has arrived," Moriarty explained, almost surprised by the question.

Watkins removed the cuffs and took the prisoner's hand.

"Be good, son, and do as they say. I'll see you again when we're done." He left him with a slap on the back and walked out of the cell, followed by the guard who had not spoken, or even given the slightest indication that he was about to speak, during the entire visit.

Moriaty followed the two guards, casting just one furtive glance at the prisoner, her personal captive, as the door closed. He was surveying his new room and did not notice the woman at the closing door.

The doctor and the guards retraced their journey to the reception area and they parted with a brief flurry of handshakes. She appeared eager to be rid of them and was stepping away before Watkins called her name. She spun on her heels and returned.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" The sharp tone was meant to be a reprimand for wasting her valuable time, but Watkins was not to be diverted by a midget with a clipboard and a white coat, especially a midget with a clipboard and a white coat that he did not trust. He had stared down serial killers, drug barons and deranged hitmen, so Dr Kerry Moriarty was no challenge.

"Yes, doctor, there is." He paused, and noticed that she pressed her glasses, a sign of unease. "I want you to look after Dino." She was about to speak, but a raised hand brought him silence. "I have signed him over to the Genesis Corporation, but I am placing him in your care. I have looked after that boy, and he is just a boy, for the past three years. If anything happens to him ... I will be disappointed." He turned and left without another word.

Three hours later, the cell door opened and an attractive young woman in a short white outfit and a nurse's cap appeared in the doorway. She offered Dean a smile that he could not describe as friendly and beckoned him with a crooked finger to follow him into the passageway. She swayed her hips like a streetwalker, allowing her hem to ride up to reveal bright pink knickers. The glass door into the main room was open and two more nurses were waiting for him, dressed like his guide in short white tunics that revealed their pink underwear. All three women were young and appealing, but all wore a cruel smile that even a convict without sight of cute women for some time found unsettling.

"Good afternoon, Dean. My name is Cindi, and this is Kimberley." She presented the young blond to her left who offered the prisoner a mock curtsey. "This is Tiffany." The brunette to her left waved. He did not return the gesture. "We're here to make sure that you deliver your ... end of the bargain. Now, we need to make you presentable for Dr Moriarty." Cindi reached behind her to collect a wire brush. "She has left specific, very specific, instructions about your appearance. Those tattoos have to go and frankly, there's far too much body hair. So, we'll start with the tattoos and then we'll shave you everywhere, and I mean everywhere." All three women giggled. "Then well give you a full hot wax and you'll be fit for decent company. Now, before we start. Take off all your clothes and stand with your legs apart and your hands behind your head. I want to suck you off."

Dean removed his clothes and adopted the pose demanded of the nurse. Cindi then gently massaged his penis until it was fully erect before fellating him while the other two nurses sat observing his performance. After three years in prison it was no surprise that only a few minutes later he detonated a milky cascade into her mouth. She rose from her knees to spit the semen into the sink to laughter and applause from the other girls. Though he had now shed his load, Dean was ordered to continue masturbating, looking at each woman in turn as they commented on his erection. The other two nurses called him over for a closer examination, and both enjoyed a prolonged stroke of his impressive shaft.

The session lasted for more than half an hour before the nurses decided to remove the tattoos and prepare Dean for his future life as a sex slave with a thorough shaving and waxing of his genitals. Moriarty arrived as the final coating of the yellow cream that would impede his hair growth was applied to his entire body. She looked blankly at her research subject as he stood, naked and yellow, before her. She examined the two areas where the tattoos had decorated his skin and complemented the nurses on their work. They meekly thanked her for her praise, adopting a deferential and meek manner in contrast to the brazen arrogance they displayed when alone with their 'patient.' Moriarty asked how long it would take for the coating to dry and was told an hour was the usual time. She ordered Dean to remain motionless for the next ninety minutes to ensure that the treatment was effective. Moriarty studied Dean's genitals and anus and demanded a second shave as well as another waxing.

"We need to have this area both clean and clear. We'll have a lot of work to do here."

The nurses smirked as they contemplated another opportunity to degrade and discomfort their captive.

Dean remained standing alone in the room for the more than two hours while the hot paste coating his body dried against his skin. He could see Moriarty in her office through the glass panels, moving around the room as she anxiously searched for some documents. She set her hand on her forehead, staring around her at the confusion of papers on her desk. Dean could see that she was agitated until she eventually lifted a dark blue folder from a pile and returned to her desk to read the contents.

Shortly after four Dean endured a second waxing of his genitals and anus. The wax was hotter this time, to ensure a comprehensive scouring of the skin, so it was nearly three hours before the yellow coating was dry enough to be removed. Therefore, it was after seven when he was ready for his inspection by Moriarty, and only Kimberley remained on evening duty until the night guard arrived at eight. Moriarty sent her away to complete some filing, leaving her alone with the research subject.

Moriarty ordered him to stand, legs slightly apart, as she ran her hands along his legs from his feet to his thighs, feeling for any stray hairs. She found four spots, one on the left and three on the right leg. She doused the offending follicles with a fresh batch of the hot preparation before coating in golden paste. Once the legs were checked she thoroughly examined the genitals and anus. There were a few traces of hairs, every one treated with the razor, wax and paste. The chest and back were all relatively clear, with only a dab of paste on each shoulder and a coating under the left armpit.

She stood back to examine her work, nodding in approval before returning to her seat.

"Was it an important file?"

"Pardon?"

"The file that you were looking for earlier. I saw you. You look a bit worried. I thought ..."

"That's none of your business," Moriarty barked, stamping the button on her phone to call Kimerbley to her office. "Take him away." She almost shouted as Kimberley arrived. "Take him to his cell." They were half way across the main room when she called them back to issue another order. "No meal."

"Naughty boy. Sent to bed without any supper." Kimberley slapped his buttocks and smiled as she led him away to his cell.

As soon as Kimberley brought him to her office, Moriarty was unable to concentrate on her work. She glanced up as the nurse left the room to see that he was still damp from the shower, so she called her to bring a towel. The thought of touching his clean waxed skin was so tempting, but she knew that she had to be patient or he would learn of her secret passion.

The towel arrived and she ordered him to be dry 'everywhere' before she examined him. Two minutes later he announced that he was ready to be examined. She continued staring at the pages of script in the file on her desk, turning the occasional sheet to offer the appearance of reading. She had brought her clipboard to the reception when he arrived with the guards to avoid looking at him in front of strangers. She cursed her own timidity and realised she should be more assertive, more in control of her own emotions. She was a twenty six year old doctoral graduate, in charge of three assistants and with her own secretary. He was a naked prisoner who would follow her every command or face years in a harsh prison. Eventually she could wait no longer and rose, as slowly as she could manage, to examine him.

She made him stand with his legs only slightly apart as she fondled his calves, pretending to be checking for hairs. She even shaved and treated the occasional patch of skin to justify running her hands over his gorgeous body. His shower had left him with a scent of shower lotion, and his skin, even the taut calves, was soft and warm. She struggled to control her breathing as she rose past his knees towards his upper thigh. Eventually, her hands trembling, she reached his penis.

She knew that her touch would arouse him, and he was firm by the time her fingers arrived at his shaft. She was pleased that she was wearing her jacket, because her rigid nipples were rubbing against the cloth of her blouse. He apologised for his erection in a calm voice no louder than a whisper, but she said nothing, wary that her voice would reveal her passion. She was professional enough to survey the shaft and foreskin without indulging her infatuation, and she felt a sense of pride that she had demonstrated her expertise without distraction.

Eventually she completed her examination of his genitals and, in a clear precise voice, ordered him to bend over an inspection of his anus. He turned around and reached down to grasp his ankles, the demeaning posture he had adopted for his two waxing sessions from the nurses. She did not dwell around his anus, recognising that this was a humiliating experience for him, and continued her journey from his toes to his head. Having controlled her mood during her visit to his genitals, Moriarty was unsettled by the delicious sensation of touching his stomach and his arms. His abdomen muscles rippled beneath her fingertips, and she fought to ease her panting breath as she circled him to caress his back. Her hands lingered, feeling free from his gaze. She dwelt over the pale skin where he once wore a tattoo, and he turned his head. Moriarty was flustered, as if her secret infatuation had been uncovered. She muttered that the tattoo had left no trace of broken skin, and she declared herself pleased with the nurses' work.

She returned to stand before him, stroking his arms above the elbow. She felt exposed, now that she believed that he had discovered her lustful interest in his body. She would not raise her eyes from his arms, meticulously studying the biceps and dabbing a few drops of hot wax onto the skin. She reached the site of his other tattoo, his gang tag. She knew that he was looking at his arm. He touched the patch of skin and told her that he was glad it was gone. Now she could not avoid looking at him, and they exchanged a glance. She was almost hypnotised by his clear blue eyes, and she breathed deeply to remain calm as she completed her examination, worried that he had grasped the real motive for her meticulous inspection of his entire body.

Then he made a comment about watching her looking for her file, and her troubled look. She knew that, on this first day, she needed to assert her control over him, or he would use his vitality to overpower her. She had indulged herself by insisting upon caressing him, and now she was about the pay for her weakness. She could not let that happen, so she pretended to be angry, outraged at his impertinence. The outburst would also ensure that Kimberley would not be suspicious of her private scrutiny of the prisoner.

He was a few steps beyond the door when she called them back to withdraw his evening meal. Kimberley issued a slap across the buttocks with her hand, which Moriarty thought was excessive, before leading him away. A moment later she regretted the decision about the meal, but she knew that, having issued a command, she could not retract the decision. She promised herself that she would not act so hastily in future when imposing penalties on her research subject.