Broe

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I was broke. Not a penny to my name. I guess I could have hocked my wee pen knife. I might have gotten a dollar for it. That is why I didn't give it up. After all, a man has his limits.

This wasn't a good situation for a 22 year old man, but that is where I found myself. Yes, I could blame my ex-wife, who had raked me over the proverbial divorce coals. But we had been married barely a month! Then I found myself assailed by an upscale law firm in a manner that left me bereft of my few assets. All the time I was absent from work, answering absurd charges by her attorneys, cost me my job. Let me tell you now, friends, don't marry while you are in college!

That is how I wound up sleeping in the park of a large Midwestern city as I was hitchhiking across the country to Arizona. I had a high school friend who had moved there a couple of years before and he told me there were plenty of jobs and the state was beautiful. I was young and brash, leaving with just a few dollars in my pocket, hoping I could pick up a few odd jobs here and there in order to eat. But things hadn't worked out as well as I'd hoped. After two weeks, I hadn't eaten in two days and I was still 1500 miles from Arizona.

That morning, as I awoke in the park, it was filled with people as the bell tower tolled twelve times. If I had still owned a watch, I might have realized it was Saturday. But the watch was long gone, taken by my ex and her greedy lawyers. Embarrassed at being so tousled and grubby, I marched off to the restroom, where I brushed my teeth with my worn out toothbrush. I had no toothpaste. I then washed in the sink, using my washrag to both wash and dry myself, after I wrung it as near dry as possible. After running my comb through my hair, which still functioned despite several missing teeth, I felt halfway human again, though I was hungrier than I had ever been in my life. I wondered if I might try to panhandle. It could be risky. I didn't know the laws in this city and I might wind up in jail, but at least there I would get fed, so I took the risk.

I didn't even have the materials to make a sign, so I tried a purely verbal approach. The first few people, met with my "I'm hungry, but will work for food", looked at me with either fear or disdain, moving to the other side of the path. About that time a pair of women, perhaps 25 years old, came jogging down the path.

They were quite beautiful, and dressed in the latest, expensive, designer jogging suits which clung to them like a second skin. I couldn't help but feel my penis stir; after all, I was young and hungry, not dead. As I stepped out to intercept their course, they slowed. I noticed one put her hand into her pink fanny pack, probably reaching for pepper spray, or worse. I quickly blurted out my plea and they stopped entirely, looking meaningfully at one another.

The blonde one asked, "Where are you from?" I told her where I had lived in South Carolina. The redhead leaned in close and whispered to the blonde, then the blonde asked, "Can you do yard work?"

I nodded my head eagerly, "Oh, yes ma'am! I can run lawnmowers, edgers, weed eaters, fertilizer spreaders, you name it. I did a lot of that when I was a kid."

They conferred and the blonde, apparently the spokeswoman for the pair, said, "Ok, meet us at the east entrance to the park in an hour. We'll pick you up there."

I blurted out a, "Yes, Ma'am! I'll be there. Thank you!" And then they jogged on off out of site.

Looking around I was trying to decide which direction was east, then gave myself a slap in the head. It was early morning. All I had to do was walk into the sun. As I walked along, I saw a family sitting at a park bench rise and leave the remnants of a fast food breakfast behind. I eased over, making sure that they were leaving. They didn't look back. There was a muffin stuffed with egg and bacon with one tiny bite out of it. I overcame my revulsion and snatched it up. It was gone almost before I could get it into my mouth. I noted a half full cup of orange juice and sucked it up as if it were manna from heaven. And to me, at that moment, it was.

Being a good citizen, I picked up the remaining garbage to put it into the nearby trash can which the family had ignored. During my clean up, I found a pristine triangle of hash browns! After gobbling that down, I felt almost human again. It is amazing how little it can take to make a person happy.

I took my time getting to the east gate to the park. After all, life suddenly seemed much better. The park was beautiful and somehow I felt as if I belonged there just as much as the other citizens enjoying the beautiful spring day. So my path meandered a bit. Just as I arrived at the exit, the tower bell rang. It was one o'clock! At almost the beginning of the bell stroke, a huge BMW pulled up at the curb where I stood searching for the two women.

A darkly tinted passenger window slide silently and quickly downward, as the car stopped next to me. The blonde said, "Get in the back." I heard the electric lock click, and I climbed into the back seat. The blonde said, "Buckle up." Then we joined the traffic and were soon on the interstate.

We drove for nearly an hour. I just sat there, fielding an occasional question. The blonde wanted to know about my family, and I told her that I was alone in the world. My only known relative, my mother, had died just before I got married. I probably responded too much about my ex-wife, because she interrupted me, "So, when are you expected in Arizona?"

"Well, James isn't actually expecting me. I bumped into him at sports bar just before I got evicted from my apartment and he gave me his address, but no phone number. When things got really bad a couple of weeks later, I figured I'd take him up on his offer to visit and look for a job. That's how I wound up trying to hitchhike across the country. Hitchhiking isn't as easy as it looks in the movies."

The redhead exited the interstate and we wove through some mountainous terrain for another half hour, as the blonde continued to question me. She even asked about my sexual experience! That surprised me, but I thought she wanted to make sure I wasn't some disease ridden home or worse. I did admit to her that I had used some pot a couple of times in high school, but had quit after I graduated. She seemed satisfied with my life history and said not one more word for the next half hour.

The redhead had turned onto a side road that twisted so sharply in the mountains that sometimes it seemed as if we were passing ourselves going the other way. It was deeply wooded, very isolated country. I found myself wondering why they would drive two hours, or more, to take a jog in a park. I blew of that thought, thinking they probably had other business in the city and just took advantage of the beautiful day to get in some exercise.

Our last turn was into a huge wrought iron gate, flanked by massive stone bulwarks. The big BMW idled up a drive that was easily two miles long! Suddenly, with the last twist in the drive, we were pulling up before a palatial home that looked like a medieval castle. There were hints, here and there, that it was modern construction.

At that point, I had a puzzling thought. The native woodland rolled right up the walls of the huge home. There was no lawn, just trees with deep humus covering the shade beneath them. The forest looked totally undisturbed, broken limbs, ancient moss covered stumps, and other detritus made me wonder what sort of yard work would be needed here.

As the BMW rocked to a halt, a very tall, very statuesque woman that looked like she stepped right out of an ancient castle in Scandinavia appeared from the gigantic pair of oak doors that defined the entrance to the home. She was dressed in a leather halter and quite short leather skirt, with sandals that laced up her legs, As the trunk of the BMW rose as if by magic, she grabbed two expensive looking leather bags in one large hand and led the three of us into the house.

Inside the entrance, the blonde said, "Helga, find some clean clothes for this young man and make sure he is cleaned up. I don't want any parasites in our home." With that insulting command, she and the redhead strode off down a long hallway.

Helga, said, "You vill follow me, now". I shrugged my shoulders and followed her off into a darker, smaller hallway hidden beneath a grand staircase that lay before us.

We wended our way through several other hallways, and down at least two flights of stairs, before my curiosity got the best of me.

"Helga? That blonde lady (I still didn't know their names), said that they wanted me to do yard work, but I didn't see any yard at all..."

Helga interrupted me, "Men be silent. Not schpeak if not spoken to!"

Ok, Helga was rude. But I figured if clean clothes and a hot shower were in order, I could bite my tongue and endure simple rudeness. After all, she was a foreigner and not used to the ways of America.

Helga stopped at a large steel door, clad with very thick steel straps with very large, rounded, bolt heads. She produced a key from somewhere on her person and unlocked the door, waving me in ahead of her. As the door clanged shut behind me, I had a faint sense of foreboding, but brushed it off.

We were standing in a huge room. The light at the entry faded to darkness well before I could see an opposing wall. Helga reached into a nearby cabinet and pulled out a black plastic trash bag, "All clothes. In here. Now."

I hesitated, and she spoke again, "Not be shy. Helga see men before. Schnell...quickly. Now."

Reluctantly, I set my own plastic bag down on the stone floor and started shedding my clothing. I was wearing several layers. Weather in the spring is variable, so I had been wearing almost all my traveling clothes that morning I awoke in the park. As I stuffed my clothes into her plastic bag, I set aside my wallet and penknife. As I got down to my underwear I hesitated, but Helga, who had seemed to be staring off into the darkness, commanded, "Everyting. Everyting! Jetz! Now!"

So, I shed my boxers. I had to wear boxers because my too large penis and my outsized balls would get cramped and twisted in jockey shorts. I kind of blamed my penis for my wife's sudden hostility on our wedding night. She had called me a freak. We had attempted intercourse, but she was just too tight, and dry. So, on my wedding night, I fell asleep, half drunk, and still a virgin. Helga acted as if there was nothing unusual about my cursed genitals, which was kind of a relief.

Helga then scooped up my plastic bag, which only had a change of underwear, a fresh pair of socks, my wash rag, and my toothbrush inside. Someone at a truck stop restroom had stolen my towel. She stuffed my meager possessions into the same bag as my clothing, along with my shoes and socks. I started to protest and she said, "Helga keep. Helga give back." Being naked, and standing before a Valkyrie that stood a head taller than me, I meekly acquiesced without protest.

"Man follow!" Helga commanded as she dumped the bag with everything I owned into a wall bin that looked very much like an apartment's hallway trash receptacle.

I followed along behind her, suddenly even more conscious that I was naked. As we moved across the room, lights came on, as the ones behind us went off. I guessed the motion detectors just lit the portion of the room occupied at the moment. During that walk, I couldn't see either of the flanking walls. This was a very large room. I suspected that it would dwarf my high school gymnasium, perhaps by a factor of ten!

We arrived at another door, similar to the entrance to this cavernous room. Helga unlocked it and we stepped into what looked like some sort of Roman bath. There were several pools, ranging from an Olympic sized swimming pool to a one person hot tub. On one wall there was a confusing array of equipment, most of which I didn't come close to recognizing. I couldn't even figure out the function of any of that strange stuff.

Helga led me into an alcove that had many showerheads. She pointed to a piece of equipment, "Hands there. Grab bar." When I looked confused, she slapped next to a pair of holes just above waist height in a large metal closet. Or maybe it looked like an oversized steamer trunk. By this time I was getting a bit fearful of what was going on.

But when she slapped her large hand next to the holes again, I stepped forward and tentatively put my hands through the holes, noting that the metal edges had padding around the entrance. As I reached inside, I felt a metal bar at my finger tips. Reaching a few inches further in, I grasped each bar, as instructed. Instantly, heavily padded clamps snapped around my wrists. I let go of the bars and tried to jerk my hands back. I couldn't budge. I squawked in surprise and to my chagrin, Helga slapped my left buttock painfully, "Quiet, man! Helga must work."

She rolled a previously unnoticed stainless steel cart over next to me, then reached up on the wall and retrieved a washer wand, not unlike those seen in car wash bays, and began hosing me down. Thankfully the water was warm and I actually began to enjoy it. Then she squirted me down with a spray bottle and took a long handled brush and began to scrub me. She started with my head, and I squeezed my eyes shut as the soft bristles scrubbed my head and face. When she approached the crevice of my buttocks, I tried to clench my cheeks together, but she simply kicked my feet apart and scrubbed my anus thoroughly. She then reached around to my front and repeated the process on my genitals and chest. After she finished my legs, she hosed me off. To my surprise, I felt pretty good. I was thoroughly clean for the first time in two weeks.

What happened next left me in shock. She produced another spray bottle, filled with a reddish liquid. She first dried my eyes, then slapped some adhesive tape over each. I felt her spray me with the bottle, working on my head and face for a long time, then working her way down my hairy chest to my stomach and finally my pubic hair. I was humiliated when she spread my butt cheeks and sprayed the back of my balls and my anus with the thick liquid. She continued on down my legs, then hit my arms with the sticky goop. Then, unexpectedly, Helga stopped. I waited. Minutes passed. I actually called out to her, tremulously. She didn't answer. The goop started to tingle. I felt it first on my head, then my face, genitals, chest, stomach, arms, and legs. Just as it started to actually burn, ice cold water hit me in a huge gush. The burning sensation stopped, and I began to shiver. I felt strange, then suddenly the eye patches were ripped off. I looked down and realized that all my body hair was GONE! The cool air on my head revealed that my dark mop of curly hair had also fallen away. I watched as Helga used the wand to wash all my hair away from my feet and towards an unseen drain.

Helga then dried me with a big blower that was almost too hot to endure. I then felt her oiling my entire body. When her large hands rubbed very warm oil into my scrotum, my penis rose very quickly to full erection. That was the first time I heard anything less than stern from Helga. She chuckled, "Goot! Nice big one." She slid my foreskin up over my glans, then sharply back fully, to entirely expose my glans. I shuddered in pleasure. But she abandoned my prick very quickly the instant I thrust forward into her two-handed grasp. She had other chores.

I felt her hands parting my buttocks once more. I felt a single, slickly lubricated, finger press into my anus, worming its way to full depth, withdraw, then slide back inside with more lubricant. The pressure against my prostate caused my penis to lurch and drool slick fluid. The finger was then withdrawn and I felt something significantly larger enter me. It went deeper than her finger, then continued to worm and twist its way deeper and deeper. Suddenly, just inside my anal sphincter, it began to swell, and swell, until I groaned with a mixture of humiliation, surprise, and a small amount of pain. Just as it stopped swelling, I felt warm water gush into my rectum, and up into my bowels. At the same time, an almost too hot, continuous soft gush of water laved my scrotum.

The warm water continued to fill me until I felt as if I would burst. Suddenly the increase in pressure stopped. For long minutes, I was left there. My bowels began to cramp. I couldn't evacuate my bowels due to that swollen invader, which was far too large to expel. I know, I tried. Then there was a whirring sound and I felt a lessening of the pressure. It continued until I felt absolutely empty. As I sighed in relief, the warm liquid began to invade me again. The cycle of filling and emptying was repeated a half dozen times. At the end of one cycle, I felt the bulb in my rectum suddenly deflate, and then withdraw, leaving me feeling weak, empty, and incomplete. I vaguely realized that I had been subjected to a high colonic, though I had little real knowledge of what that process entailed.

It was almost as if I had dozed off on my feet. I felt Helga fumbling with my scrotum, which had loosened until my balls hung very low, as they did after a prolonged hot bath. I dreamily looked down and saw her affixing a clamshell arrangement of thick, heavy, stainless steel metal about the upper neck of my scrotum. I watched her twist and stretch my balls even lower, until she could clamp the device tight. While she held it in one hand, she threaded a series of six machined screws into opposing sides of the thick metal. Using a strangely shaped tool, she torqued them very tightly. When she was finished, she gently removed her hand, and I groaned as at least five pounds of metal stretched my balls even further downward. It was quite painful, and I thought I might lose my mind with the pain if it continued. But, at that moment, my wrists were suddenly released. When I became aware of that, I withdrew them and used one hand to cup my balls upward to relieve the dragging pressure.

Helga commanded, "You follow, now!" She strode off sharply, expecting no less than perfect obedience. I meekly followed. As I followed her, I looked down at my swollen balls, protruding through the thick collar of stainless steel. The collar was very nearly, if not more, four inches long. If I had a smaller scrotum, then my balls would have been crushed within the tunnel of the device. As we walked, I found that if I didn't cup my balls to keep them warm, then their natural contractile response to cooler air would cause me pain as they tried to draw upwards. So I was forced to cup them securely, and warmly in one hand at all times.

Halting at a smaller door than the previous ones, Helga said, "You go in. Be good man or be punished." I almost felt sorry that she was abandoning me. The unknown was frightening. At the time I didn't know that the high colonic had also include a complex mix of chemicals. Later I found that not only had I been dosed with a trio of psychoactive drugs, but also a new drug that surpassed Viagra, Cialis, and other current sexual enhancers. My forebrain had been suppressed, even as my 'animal' brain was stimulated. And my 'lizard' brain was forced into a 'breeding' mode. In other words, I was a passive, breeder ready to do my job. But first there were other ordeals.

When the door slammed shut behind me, I was standing there, fully erect, balls cradled in one hand, and stupefied. There was a reclining chair in front of me. It looked much like the chair one might see in a dentist's office, hybridized with a birthing chair from an OB clinic. Two women stepped forward and I allowed them to guide me to the chair. Once I lay back, they affixed thick leather straps around all my limbs and chest. One placed an plastic cone over my nose and mouth. After two or three breaths, I blacked out.