Twin Van

The van came to a stop, or so it seemed. Sasha was utterly disoriented from the cramps and the desperate need to expel his guts. He could barely tell if he was alive or dead. The blindfold over his eyes had soaked through with sweat and become encrusted in frost, the coldness shearing through his head, constricting his thoughts into a white ball of pain. He had grown so dehydrated from sweating that his tongue kept sticking on his rubber cock gag.

He did not hear the van door open, but he heard the cooler above him shut off, and he then heard Jane's voice. "Rise and shine, Sasha!"

The blanket was ripped away and he was dragged upright by his hair, still blindfolded. His legs buckled underneath him but he was pulled along anyway, his feet scrambling for purchase as he was led out of the van. They went through a set of doors, and another, and then she sat him down on a seat with a hole in the middle.

"This part is gross as hell, but you gotta do it."

Sasha felt a rubber-clad hand grasp the plug in his ass. Some button was pushed and it deflated ever-so-slightly inside him before being unceremoniously removed. He did not know if the humiliation or relief was greater as he involuntarily emptied himself.

"Eughh," she said as he finally stopped. "Just be glad I fed you those laxatives before we got here, you don't wanna know what Doctor Rose would do if she got a hold of you with all that gunk inside."

She dragged him out of the cubicle and pushed him up against a metal wall, and before he could sit upright he was blasted with a hose of freezing-cold water.

Jane pulled the blindfold off, and stroked the boy's sodden hair. "You're going in for your medical check up now, so I'll see you in a few hours." Her expression turned serious. "Make sure you do everything Doctor Rose tells you to, okay? She has never made an idle threat in her life, and you really don't want her keeping you for overnight observation."

He could only whimper as she left. Once alone, he looked at his new surroundings. It didn't look like a doctor's office. It was too stark, with grainy non-stick floors leading to a drain, stainless steel worktops and cabinets, everything wipe-down and waterproof, dull grey or painfully bright under the fluorescent lights. It felt like a vet's surgery in a puppy mill.

Well, apart from the chair in the center of the room. That wasn't for animals. Those stirrups and straps were made with human legs in mind.

He heard the door click open, and by the time he turned his neck to look, the new woman was already in front of him. She was tall and pale, dressed in blue scrubs, a severe expression on her face. Her blonde hair was tied in a tight bun, her thin lips were painted blood-red, and she was looking down her hawk-like nose at him.

"Stand up," she barked.

Sasha froze in fear. He still felt exhausted from the journey and laxatives, and didn't know if he could stand up if he wanted to.

She reached out with a two-foot-long plastic baton, touching the tip of it just below his ribcage. He saw and heard the arc of electricity as she pressed a button on the handle. It didn't feel like a shock-it felt like he'd been doused in petrol and set on fire from within. He convulsed, gagging himself on the rubber cock in his mouth, screeching in pain around it. As the worst of the pain faded, he opened his eyes to see her approaching again, and he scrambled backwards against the wall in panic.

"If you can kick, you can stand," she said tersely. "In ten seconds I'll strap this to your balls and tape the button down if you're not on your feet."

He pushed himself up using the wall behind him for support, staggering on the spot with his knees threatening to buckle at any moment as he looked at this woman in terror.

"Very disappointing," she said, looking him up and down, "Jane usually does much better. I am Doctor Rose, and I will perform all of the necessary medical procedures for your new role, and any other medical procedures if you make them necessary. Obey all of my instructions immediately and without question."

He nodded frantically, and froze as she lifted the prod towards him. "I did not ask a question and I did not request a response." Her accent wasn't English either, but it was different from Jane's. Australian. "Get up onto the examination chair and lie back in it."

A raised brow sent him scurrying to the cold metal seat. Between his bound wrists and his weak legs he all but fell on top of it, but was able to squirm into a sitting position. He gagged as his captor grabbed his collar and yanked his neck back, locking it in place below the adjustable metal headrest on the chair. She strapped his legs to the stirrups with canvas belts around his ankles and knees, leaving his groin and ass completely exposed. One at a time, his wrist cuffs were unhooked from his collar, bent behind his back, and locked into place underneath the chair. A strap went across his chest and was tightened until he had to strain to breathe. Finally, two leather straps went across his chin and forehead, preventing him from moving his head more than a millimetre in any direction.

He stared up at the ceiling, unable to see what Doctor Rose was doing. The shape of her was visible between his legs, and he blushed as he felt her gloved hand touch his penis. She turned something with a click, causing an incredible rush of relief to flow through him: the catheter valve had been opened, and his bladder was draining out. He hadn't known how much strain and discomfort it had caused until the pressure ebbed away, tears of relief welling up at the corners of his eyes.

It was only when his captor brandished the enema syringe full of yellow liquid that he realised where his urine had been drained out into. His eyes went wide as she connected the nozzle to the same hole on his gag that he'd been fed hot chocolate through, and bound as he was he could not even shake his head in reticence. His mouth filled with salty, musky piss, flowing so fast he could not even stop to moan in despair. The taste and stench soaked into his membranes, and his stomach felt unpleasantly bloated when the syringe had been emptied.

"That was for nodding out of turn," she said matter-of-factly. "It was the most gentle correction I will give you. The next one will be far harsher, so think carefully before you do anything to piss me off."

She pressed a button on a remote control, and a television screen descended from the ceiling. She adjusted it by hand until it was in the center of Sasha's vision before pressing play. A skinny man, not even in his twenties, appeared on screen, bound in the same way on the same chair as Sasha. He had shoulder length soft, red hair and freckles on his tanned skin. Unlike Sasha he was ungagged and grinning widely, but his eyes were screwed shut and his face was wet with tears.

Doctor Rose pinched Sasha's cheek. "I'll break your little fingers if you close your eyes or look away, so blink twice if you'd rather I pin your eyelids open."

She moved out of view a moment before she appeared on the recording, running her fingers over the redhead's chest as he shivered in terror. Then she turned to the side, and the strapon she was wearing became visible. Sasha almost choked on his gag-it was a novelty monster, a fourteen-inch ribbed-and-dotted thing hanging on the wall of a sex shop as a joke. It was thicker than his fist! Even if he'd wished to disobey his captor, he wouldn't have been able to take his eyes off the scene.

On screen, Doctor Rose got between the boy's legs and pressed the enormous tip against his hole. "It hurts less when you relax, Robin, are you still too stupid to figure that out?"

The boy shook and squealed, apparently unwilling to take the suggestion to heart. His captor had to push and struggle to force it inside, gripping his thighs so tightly that her fingernails broke the skin. Even once she was hilted inside and he had broken down sobbing, every muscle in his body was still tense and rigid.

The doctor whispered into Sasha's ear. "That's one of my other experiments. He got on my bad side, so I got him a mixture of implants, localized steroids, and microdoses of strychnine. It doesn't matter how much he tries to relax when he has his pretty ass raped, it's as tight and tense and painful as the first time I had him. The minister we sold him to is rather happy with him, or so I hear."

She moved away and left him to watch the rape as she busied herself just out of view. Even if he had not been restrained he would have been too terrified to look away. It was the same chair. She had raped that boy in the same chair that he was strapped to now, he was strapped down with the same straps that the boy had chafed against, and he was at the mercy of the same woman who was on screen, sodomizing the crying teenager.

He couldn't see what Doctor Rose was doing, but he felt the pinch of a needle, heard the rasp of tape being unwound, smelled the harsh tang of antiseptic. One of his arms was unbound just long enough to slide a blood pressure monitor over it. He felt an oddly gentle scraping sensation on his skin, starting on his thigh and going down his legs, and it was only after a glimpse of the razor that he realized he was being shaved. Her arms were shadows at the edges of his peripheral vision, sticking wired patches to his skin as he watched her biting down on the shoulder of her victim onscreen. His body had reached new heights of tension and he was sure he'd been injected with the same awful substances as her last victim.

It was only after she pumped in the enema bag, showing off the two litres of cleaning solution about to go inside him before squeezing every drop into his guts and bringing back a fraction of the awful, nauseating cramps he'd experienced on the ride over, that he knew he had not been drugged with strychnine. He knew this because as his belly wobbled and his muscles quivered and tears ran down his cheeks, a wave of despair washed over him and he gave up. His muscles untensed, the cords on his neck went slack, and he wallowed in the humiliation and pain. On screen, the doctor had pulled out of her victim's ass, and was alternating between forcing him to lick the strapon clean and roughly fucking his mouth with it.

"He'd been very good that day," she said from Sasha's side. "I cleaned him out beforehand as a reward." The screen turned to black, and she mounted him to straddle his torso. He whimpered in pain from the pressure on his gut, but did not dare look away as she dangled some contraption of straps and metal in front of him.

"I am going to replace your gag now. You will remain silent while I do so." she said. "I will remove two of your teeth for every syllable you utter. For example, 'Please, stop, I'm begging you,' has six syllables, which means I will take my pliers and remove all eight of your incisors and all four of your cuspids. This will be very painful, but it will significantly improve your cock-sucking skills. Nod once if you understand this."

Sasha nodded. He coughed and gasped as the oversized gag was pulled from between his lips, sticky with his own spit and piss. Within seconds a new gag was forced in place, a set of spreader bars that hooked in behind his teeth. The doctor turned a screw that forced his jaw apart until it was a millimeter away from dislocating. She then took one end of a slim, clear tube, coated it in lubricant, and pushed it up his left nostril. It felt uncomfortable but not agonizing, though it did make his eyes water. Finally she adjusted the neck rest so that he was looking straight ahead. He could now see the patchwork of sensor pads and IVs in his smooth-shaven skin, his cock still bound and catheterized, and Doctor Rose standing in front of him with a clipboard in one hand and a small cooler box in the other.

Without looking up from the clipboard she said, "The birth certificate says Aleksander Walczak, though you go by Sasha or so I've been told. Your father is Antony Walczak, currently living in Hereford with his new girlfriend. Nod if this is correct."

Sasha nodded the millimeter that his bonds would allow.

"Your father donated to a sperm bank in 2014, did you know that? You don't need to answer, I have his sample paperwork here." She looked him in the eye and smirked. "I have a bit more than just his paperwork, as a matter of fact. Take a look at this."

She placed the clipboard aside and opened up the cooler box. From within she took a length of string with a frozen sphere on the end, a yellow-white ball the size of a plum, ice vapour rising off of it.

"Let me just leave this here," she said, tying it to a hook above Sasha's head and feeding it down carefully until the icy lump slipped into his mouth. It didn't touch his tongue, but he could feel the cold radiating from it.

"If you haven't guessed already, Sasha, that's your daddy's cum. You're going to eat it for me." She leaned in close to whisper in his ear, picking up the tube that led to his nose and lifting it so he could see it. "In five minutes you'll be licking at a bare tip of string, and if there's even a Dippin Dot worth of frozen cum left on there I'll open up the valve on your nose tube. The other end of the tube is in your buttplug, with two whole litres of dirty enema water ready to rush out and into your sinuses, your mouth, and if you don't drink it down fast enough, your lungs. Then I'll have a chat with Jane and see that consuming your own enema water becomes part of your daily routine."

She took out a stopwatch and clicked. The reader started counting down from five minutes. "I'd start licking if I were you, Sasha."

In the space of a few panicked licks the frozen surface of the ball became a slimy, salty mess. It coated his tongue and slid down the back of his throat, unmistakably musky and bitter. She wasn't lying about it being cum.

With his jaw propped open he couldn't close his mouth over the ball and he struggled to swallow it as it melted. He had to strain his tongue forward painfully to lap at it, burning from the cold. His mouth filled with a sludgy, slushy mess until he could barely tell his spit from the sphere.

"I have all of your father's deposit paperwork here if you're curious, I even have the police report where the sperm bank listed exactly what was stolen. Are you interested? Or are you too busy thinking about gulping down that yummy enema water?"

For emphasis she pressed her hand down on his swollen tummy, bearing her weight down on it. His eyes bulged out and a mixture of cum and piss he'd swallowed burbled back up into his mouth. He took a moment to breathe and recover when she let off, only for her to cluck her tongue and point to the stopwatch with barely a minute to go. With tears streaming down his face he swallowed, and then returned to tonguing the slimy ball. There were eight seconds left on the timer when he took the mushy core and crushed it between his tongue and the roof of his mouth.

"Well done, Sasha, it seems you're a natural cum-dumpster," she said, petting his hair. She removed the plastic tube from his nose and brandished it in front of him. "Count yourself lucky, you wouldn't have been the first boy I'd fed his own enema, or the last."

She took the tube and walked away from him, inserting the end into some kind of outlet on the metal cupboards below the countertops. After rooting around in a drawer, she picked up a curved metal rod with a thick ball on the end. Sasha stared at it so intently as she approached that he didn't notice her turn the valve on his buttplug. He moaned with relief as the dirty water flowed down the tube, and couldn't tell if the pained wail he heard from the cupboard was real or his pained imagination.

"It's time you learned why you're here," said Doctor Rose, tapping her palm with the thick metal toy. "For the next few years you will-yes, years, and if you want to goggle and glare at me like Robin used to you'll end up sharing his predicament-you will perform two roles. The first is to produce semen, and the second is to extract it from others."

Sasha felt removed from everything, as if he was describing the events to himself instead of experiencing them. He did not feel the sensation of the electrode pads that she stuck to the tip of his limp penis, but he told himself that the conducting gel was cold and her surgical gloves were smooth and powdery. He was outside of his molestation but he had not escaped it; from wherever he was viewing this scene he could feel something cold and all-consuming towering behind him, ready to collapse in on him at any moment. He knew, but did not feel, how the catheter tube inside him stung as it was withdrawn, and he knew, but did not feel, the seal of the ribbed latex tube that she placed over his cock.

She held up a dial with wires dangling out. "I'm about to run some volts through your cock, try not to whine too loudly."

He froze in terror as she turned it, fearing a searing shock that would send his entire body into convulsions, but only the mildest tingle came. While he watched her hands on the dial, she watched his face intently and turned the dial a few more clicks. The tingling was almost pleasant, and then it was... insistent, then uncomfortable, and with one more click he let out a squeak of pain. She immediately turned the dial back down, settling somewhere between pleasant and overpowering. After placing the dial aside, she grabbed his cock, playing with it and giving it a testing squeeze.

This was the least painful thing he'd experienced since waking up in that van, but it was far from comfortable. Her groping felt clinical, as if she was a biologist checking the gender of a captured animal, and the tingling just made it feel as if he was urinating. He wondered if that was her aim, to make him wet himself unintentionally and punish him for it, or if she was trying to stimulate an erection and punish him for that. The former seemed to be the more likely outcome.

Doctor Rose turned off the current and picked up the clipboard. "About fifteen percent of subjects can achieve erection and orgasm from penile electrostimulation alone," she said as she scribbled her notes. "You're clearly in the other eighty-five, so we'll have to do it the normal way."

Sasha squirmed the plug was pulled out of his ass, and squirmed even more when the metal toy replaced it. It slid inside him easily, meeting no resistance once the bulbous tip had slipped past his anus, and the doctor began exploring inside him, probing around until he felt the cold metal tip touch what felt like the back of his cock.

He felt himself twitch.

"That's promising," she murmured, "let's see how capable you are..."

Sasha cried out as his body convulsed from the shock. It wasn't the blinding fire of the cattle prod but a sharp, unpleasant jolt deep inside him, arcing into his prostate from the metal ball inside him. He whimpered, his anus contracting around the rod involuntarily. The next two shocks made him squeal.

"You're lucky you arrived when you did with a squeal like that," the doctor murmured, "we had a client last year who wanted a young man to be their pet piggie. I did vocal cord modification and insets for permanent nose hooks, our machinist made something very creative for his chastity cage..."

Sweat ran down his face and body, and his skin prickled like it had been zapped with static on a thousand points. He stared at her in horror but she didn't even glance at him, she was focused purely on the metal rod inside him, running it back and forth over his prostate. Three shocks happened in short succession, his scream at the first cut to a grunt at the second and a dry cough at the third. Something was happening inside him despite the pain or perhaps because of it-something inside him grabbing his cock from the back and desperately squeezing it.