The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Milk Bar—Chapter 43

The next morning’s light sliced into the darkness around the edges of the blinds, cutting into Jim’s eyes. He squinted and blinked, trying to clear the stickiness left from a too-short night’s sleep. He shook Greg, who lay next to him, his arm across Jim’s chest. “Come on baby. Time to get up. We have to go to work.” Greg groaned and rolled over. “I can’t. Let’s call in sick.” “We can’t. You have a meeting with Chief Strattlemeyer and the mayor and I have discussions with some community boards. Come on. Up and at ‘em.” The shadow of fear that had come in the night before seemed to have fled with the morning light. Jim smiled as he raised himself on his elbow and looked down at his mate’s pained face. He leaned down and kissed him. “I know. It stinks. But maybe we can have an early supper and get to bed early tonight. Whatda’ya say?” “OK. Help me up.” Greg reached out his hand and Jim, who’d risen, took it and pulled him to his feet. Greg sagged against his lover’s body, his arms draped over his shoulders. “Come on tiger. I can’t hold you up all day. It would look a little strange at your big meeting.” “Oh, alright. I guess you’re right. Come on, let’s get in the shower.”

Jim and Greg had finished drying off and had moved into the bedroom to get dressed. Jim was dabbing on the cologne he usually wore, looking across the room at Greg who was contemplating the ring on his finger. “Come here, boy,” Jim suddenly ordered him. Greg looked up and then quickly moved to stand in front of Jim, his legs spread, his hands clasped behind his back, his head bowed. “Yes Sir,” he said and he stood awaiting his Master’s pleasure. Jim took his bottle of cologne and wet the tips of his index fingers. Then he reached up to Greg’s erect nipples and rubbed the fragrance around the aureoles. His fingers spiraled inward, brushing the erect points in their circles and flipping the ring piercing his right tit up and down in his spiral motion. Jim pinched Greg’s tits between his thumbs and fingers and Greg’s knees nearly buckled, so surprised was he by the sensation and the action itself. A quiet grunting vibrated his throat. “I’m marking you with my smell. I’ve worn this cologne for years. Now you will wear it, marking you as mine. You’re my husband, my mate and my boy. We’re adding this to our morning rituals. Every morning I’ll mark you. My fragrance will blend with your after-shave, so your smell will be unique but my smell will be part of you.” “Yes Sir. Thank you Sir,” Greg answered happily. His cock was responding to the sensation and the symbolism of his Master’s action. He was owned and he was marked. It was his tits that were marked, not only with the ring that he wore in his right nipple, but now with his Master’s smell.

###

As usual, Jim dropped Greg in the parking garage at City Hall/Police headquarters. They kissed goodbye and Greg climbed out of the car. He was walking toward the entrance when he heard someone call out his name. “Lt. Barber. Lieutenant! Wait up!” He turned to see Frank Clark hurrying toward him. Frank was the handsome, red-headed beat cop whose acquaintance Greg had made while on a stake-out where Frank was assigned as his wheel man. Frank’s white grin was shining from under his red mustache. “Hey, Frank. How are ya? What’s up?” “Not much Lieutenant. Sarge said I was up for special assignments this month, so maybe we’ll be working together again. Last time was great and it’d be great to do it again!” Frank said, eagerly. He’d really enjoyed his time with Lt. Barber on the previous assignment and wanted to be sure Barber knew he’d be available and willing. Out of habit, Greg glanced down at Frank’s left hand. Nope, no ring. He apparently hadn’t changed his marital status since the last time they’d worked together. Not that the lack of a ring was a guarantee, but he noticed that Frank kept his eye contact a little longer than was usual for a man. And did Greg’s eyes betray him, or was Frank stealing glances at his basket, with a bit of a bulge growing in his own uniform pants? “Who knows?” Greg mused. “He’s certainly a hunk.” “Well, I’ll let you know,” Greg said. “I’d like to work with you again too. We’ll see what’s coming down.” “Right,” said Frank. “See ya!” And he turned to go down the stairs to the squad room, then stopped, and turning back, said “And thanks Lieutenant.” Greg saw that the bulge at Frank’s crotch was noticeably larger than it had been before. “Looking forward to it,” he answered as Frank flashed a dazzling grin and headed downstairs.

Early in the afternoon, Greg phoned Jim to see what he was up to. “I’m going to be stuck here late this evening baby, so go on home and I’ll be there as soon as I can. I love you.” “Same here,” Greg answered and hung up the phone. He looked at the clock and realized it was time for his meeting with the Mayor and Chief Strattlemeyer. He was whistling as he headed for the elevators. “Hey Greg! Hey Barber!” Greg stopped and turned around to see who was calling him. It was Blake Thompson, a guy he’d been at the academy with. “Blake! How are you? You’re a sight for sore eyes!” And he was! Blake stood about six-two, with sandy brown hair that was showing the first signs of gray and shining blue eyes. In fact his eyes were the bluest blue Greg had ever seen; they were electric blue. Since they’d worked together for so long, Greg knew Blake almost as well as he knew any of the guys. Up until a few months ago, they’d gone out for beers fairly frequently after getting off duty. They’d swapped war stories and talked about life as a cop and they’d frequently worked out together in the gym. So he knew that Blake took good care of himself and maintained his trim, muscular physique through regular trips to the gym. He had nearly six-pack abs with a spreading line of fine, soft, sandy brown hair that rose from his groin to his pecs and spread over them like a mushroom cloud. His brown nipples peaked through the hair, and remembering that now made Greg’s mouth start to water. And his cock! Beautifully shaped, it was thick and long, hanging down about seven inches when he was soft, (after all, Greg had never seen him hard) protruding from his thick bush. His balls were like two of those Australian fruits, what do you call them—kiwis? They hung down behind his cock, pushing it out slightly so that it hung like a curved tube draping over his furry nuts. He had a swimmer’s build, lithe and strong, the corded muscles rippling under his tanned skin. “What say we have a beer today? We need to catch up,” said Blake. Then he noticed Greg’s left hand. “Hey! You’ve been holding out on me. What gives? You go and get married all of a sudden? Who’s the lucky lady? Or is there something you’re not telling me?” Thompson grinned and slugged Greg’s bicep playfully. “Oh, it was quick. Someone real special. And no, it’s not someone you know. Well, you might. But anyway, I’ll have to fill you in later. Got a meeting with Strattlemeyer and Milchmann. “OK. But I want answers, see? See you later.” “Right!,” Greg grinned and entered the elevator.

Later, Greg was sitting in the Mayor’s office with Chief Strattlemeyer and Mayor Milchmann, discussing concerns about crime-prevention in the downtown areas. The Mayor, a tall, handsome man with medium dark hair shot through with gray, was talking about his concern that crime-prevention measures not be seen to infringe on the rights of innocent citizens. “We can’t be too draconian or authoritarian. We need to get the citizens in the area involved so that they don’t feel that we’re shoving this down their throats. And we can’t have the civil libertarians up in arms or they’ll crucify us.” “I agree with you, your Honor,” said Strattlemeyer. “Me too,” said Greg. “I’ll call up reps from some of the community groups and the local ACLU and get a meeting set up.” “Good. Thanks Greg,” the Mayor said. At that moment, his phone rang. “Yes? OK. Hang on. Greg, it’s for you.”

Greg looked quizzical , wondering who would be calling him in the Mayor’s office. Oh, maybe it was Jim. Greg took the phone from the Mayor. “Thank you sir,” he said. “Hello?” He couldn’t quite make out the voice on the other end of the line; it seemed muffled and indistinct. Then he heard words clearly spoken: “Rich Man’s Cream.” His mind was immediately ensnared and put under the control of the voice on the phone. “Can you hear me boy?” the voice asked. “Yes Sir.” “Tell me you understand.” “I understand Sir.” “Good. I want you to come to the Milk Bar and bring two cops with you. Bring Officer Frank Clark and your friend Blake Thompson. Do you understand?” “Yes Sir. I understand. Frank Clark and Blake Thompson.” “Good. Tell the Mayor and your Chief that you have to get to your special assignment. Pick up Clark and Thompson. Tell them and their buddies that there will be no radio contact because of the sensitivity of the mission and the security required. Then report to the Milk Bar. Tell Clark to wait in the car and bring Thompson in with you. Don’t repeat what I’ve just told you. Just tell if you understand.” “Yes Sir, I understand.” “Good. Good boy. We’ll be waiting for you.” “Yes Sir. Thank you Sir.” And the line went dead. Greg hung up the phone.

He told the Mayor and Chief Strattlemeyer what he’d been ordered to tell them. The Mayor barely looked up from his papers. “Fine. Thanks Greg.” “My pleasure sir,” Greg answered and walked out of the office. He purposefully made his way back to the office and found Blake sitting at his desk, laboring on some paperwork. “Hey Blake. C’mon. I’ve just gotten a call about that special assignment. I need someone with your abilities to help me out. Can you do it?” Blake looked up at Greg, his face split by a grin. “Oh yeah? Great! I was just feeling in need of some excitement.” He grabbed his gun and cuffs and followed Greg through the office. Greg called back so the other officers could hear: “We’ll be out of radio contact for a while. This thing’s too sensitive to be shooting talk around the air for anybody to pick up on a scanner.” “Gotcha,” Blake said, catching up to Greg.

They went down to the squad room where Frank Clark was reviewing some paperwork. Greg stopped at the duty officer’s desk and asked if Officer Clark was available to work on a special assignment. The officer glanced up from his work. “Sure, no problem. Frank, the Lieutenant needs your services.” “Thanks,” Greg said. “Oh, and Sarge: security keeps us from calling in. Hope that won’t be a problem” “No problem,” the sergeant said and went back to his paperwork. “Get your stuff Frank and c’mon,” Greg said. “OK,” Frank said, excitedly. “I’m ready.” He grabbed his hat and headed out the door with the two officers.

The Milk Bar—Chapter 44

They drove down to the waterfront and stopped in front of what appeared to be a run-down warehouse. Greg turned to the two men. “OK. Here’s the scene. Blake, you and I’ll go in. Frank, you wait here. We can’t risk radio contact, so I’ll give you a signal from the door when it’s clear. If we’re not out in ten minutes, come looking for us. Got it?” “You bet Lieutenant. Ten minutes.” “OK. C’mon Blake. Grab a flashlight and let’s go.” Barber and Thompson got out of the car and moved toward the door. Greg glanced back at Clark and gave him a thumbs-up, then opened the door and moved inside. Blake followed him a few seconds later, closing the door behind himself. He didn’t know that their every move was being observed on a set of monitors.

Inside, the hall was completely dark. Blake switched on his flashlight and shone it down the passageway. “OK Blake,” Greg whispered in his ear, making him start. “You go ahead. I’ve got you covered.” Blake shone the light on Barber’s face and nodded. There was something in Barber’s eyes that he found unsettling, but he couldn’t name it at the moment and this was obviously not the place to ponder such things. So he started down the hall that was illuminated only by the glow of his light. The beam of his light caught the outline of a door to the right and he placed his hand on it. “Barber!” he whispered. “Let’s check it out.” Then he heard another voice, a strange voice say something he found completely weird. “Milkman” the voice said. Then he heard Barber say “Yes Sir.” Suddenly, a strange smelling cloth covered his nose and mouth. Then his world was engulfed in blackness and silence.

###

Frank Clark checked his watch and waited, his eyes on the door, looking for some sign or signal from Barber. Five minutes and still nothing. After eight minutes, Frank was getting fidgety. Finally, the ten minutes was up and still there was no sign of either of them. He started to press the call button on the two-way that he wore on his shirt, but remembering Barber’s directions, he let go of it. He checked his gun, climbed out of the car and moved toward the door. He opened the door, trying to make as little noise as possible and stepped into the darkness.

As he waited for his eyes to adjust, Frank thought he heard a sound from somewhere down the hall that he was standing in. It sounded like Thompson’s voice. He moved cautiously down the dark hall toward a closed door from under which light was showing. He listened at the door and was sure that the voice was Thompson’s. He sounded frightened and angry, but his words were indistinct. Frank figured that it would be unlikely that he could sneak into the room, so the decided to take the surprise option. He pulled his gun, carefully took the doorknob in his left hand and turned it slowly. Then, just as he threw his weight against the door, it opened, and he stumbled into the room. As he fell, his gun was snatched from his hand and he ended up on his hands and knees. He raised his head to see Blake Thompson with his hands cuffed and pulled over his head, a gag in his mouth. Where was Barber? Clark started to get up when he felt the cold barrel of a gun against the base of his skull. “Stay where you are Officer Clark. I wouldn’t want to have to waste such a valuable piece of police property.” The voice was cold and sent a chill through Frank’s body. He was sure that if he tried anything, the owner of the voice wouldn’t hesitate to blow him away. All he could do was stare in amazement and confusion at Lt. Thompson, suspended from the ceiling with his own cuffs. Where the hell was Barber?

“Lt. Barber. Come here.” Frank twisted his head around to look behind. Lt. Barber was standing there, his eyes fixed, standing at attention. He stepped toward the man holding Frank’s gun. “Yes Sir?” Barber said. “Strip boy.” “Yes Sir,” Barber answered and removed his jacket. He dropped it on the floor, then pulled off his tie. He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, exposing his furred, muscular chest. Clark watched him, his mouth agape. What was going on here? Why was Barber obeying this man? Thompson was also staring, wide-eyed as Barber stripped. “Yes gentlemen,” the man with the gun said. “You see the results of the Milk Bar’s training program. Lt. Barber is one of our prize man-cows. We’ve trained him to do whatever we want and men pay good money for him to suck them or be fucked by them. You see, that’s what we do here. We specialize in fulfilling men’s sexual fantasies. Most of those fantasies are about cock and cum. Lots of cum. Our herd is conditioned and trained to give large amounts of cum. They’re trained to give the best blow-jobs in town. They’re trained to give a fuck unlike any found anywhere else. And your Lt. Barber here is one of the best. I hate to tell you what men have paid for the privilege of milking him and fucking him. In fact, I’ve fucked him myself. He’s incredible!” Burt’s eyes glittered as he looked at Greg, who was, by now down to his briefs. He slid his thumbs into the waistband and pushed them over his hips, freeing his pendulous cock and balls. Despite the fear Burt’s words had raised in his mind, Frank couldn’t take his eyes off Greg’s endowment. How could he reconcile all this? This incredibly capable cop was a, a sexual slave? He sucked cock? He took it up the ass? How could this be? And what were they going to do to him and Thompson? As the thought entered his mind, his own dick began to fill and stiffen.

Greg stood there. Naked. His hands clasped behind his back, his head bowed. Burt held out a leather collar. “Put it on boy.” Greg took the collar from him and obediently buckled it around his neck. The metal bars on either side of his throat glittered in the lights, as did the ring in his nipple that Frank noticed for the first time. He sucked air through his teeth as the seriousness of their circumstances hit him with full weight. “OK boy. I want you to strip these two. Start with Officer Clark. Officer Clark, if you’ll please stand up. And don’t try anything. Understand?” Frank looked up at him as he started to rise to his feet. “Yah,” he said. Greg walked up to him and began to unbutton his shirt. Frank started to raise his hands to stop him. “Don’t,” Burt warned, raising the gun. Frank dropped his arms, allowing Greg to finish unbuttoning his shirt. Greg slid it off of his shoulders, exposing his well-defined chest and the copper-colored hair that swept over it like wire. “Cuff him,” Burt ordered. Greg got Frank’s cuffs from his pack, then pulled Frank’s hands behind his back and put them on him. Suddenly, his sweaty chest felt very cold as the slight breeze from the overhead blowers dried the perspiration. “Pants,” Burt ordered. Greg knelt to untie Franks’s shoes and pulled them off his feet. Then he stood and unfastened his pants, letting them fall to the floor around his feet. His briefs were tenting and there was a wet spot where the tip of his cock met the fabric. “Well, well, well,” Burt chuckled. “Looks like maybe we have another natural here. You wouldn’t be getting off on this, would you officer? Or, as the saying says, are you just happy to see me?” “Pig!” spat Frank. “Now Officer Clark. I really don’t think you’re in any position to be insulting me. And I’m not the one standing here in my BVDs with a hard-on, am I? Barber, get his briefs off.” Greg pulled them down, releasing Frank’s pale, erect cock to bob up and down in front of him, blue veins throbbing.

Burt ordered Greg to fasten a spreader bar on Frank’s ankles. “Now help him over to the other post and re-cuff him with his hands over his head. Use the leather cuffs and hook him up.” Greg did as ordered, leaving Frank with his legs uncomfortably spread, suspended from the post by his wrists. The two captive cops were facing each other in their complete helplessness. “What’re you going to do to us?” Frank asked. Burt looked at him with one eyebrow arched and a smirk on his face. “Well isn’t it obvious? Our clients have a major thing for cops. And you two are? That’s right: cops. So we’re going to induct you into the herd and train you to be man-cows, sex slaves; just like Lt. Barber here. Sound good?” he asked glancing down at Frank’s throbbing dick. “Yeah, I can see you like the idea already. You’re halfway home.” Frank felt a flush race through his body, turning his pale skin scarlet. Burt closed in on Blake as he spoke to Frank. “You may take to it a lot faster than Lt. Thompson here. But who knows? Maybe he likes the idea too.” Saying this, he ground his knee into Blake’s crotch, making him groan behind the gag in his mouth. “Leave him alone,” Frank cried. “Let him go. I’ll stay with you. Just let him go!” Burt turned to look at him, an evil grin on his face. “Why? You think he’s straight and we shouldn’t do that to a straight man? A lot of our herd were straight before we got hold of them. There are only a few, like you, apparently, and Barber here, that saved us the trouble of having to train them to suck and take a fuck and like it. But it doesn’t matter. Because by the time we get done with him, Lt. Thompson will be blowing men and taking it up the ass with the best of them. In fact, it’ll be the only way he’ll ever be able to come again!” Burt laughed as Thompson yelled into the gag spreading his jaws and pulled against his bonds. “Calm down boy,” Burt said, stroking his face gently. “There’s no getting out of this now and if you think we can’t, you’re wrong. Just watch. Strip him boy!” Frank yelled “Don’t Barber. Lt. Barber stop. What are you doing? Don’t do it!” Burt laughed deeply. “You’re wasting your breath Officer Clark. He can only do what I order him to do. We have control over him here. Get on with it boy.”

Greg moved to Blake and began to unbutton his shirt. Blake thrashed at the feel of Greg’s knuckles touching his chest as Greg worked to undo the buttons of his shirt. They’d already removed his jacket before they strung him up so it was only a matter of taking off his shirt. Greg looked questioningly at Burt when he’d finished unbuttoning all the buttons. “Let him down and take his shirt off. We need to have something to send him home in. And take out the gag. We can’t have him completely quiet for this event,” Burt said. He held up Frank’s service revolver. “And please don’t try anything. I don’t want a mess to clean up.” Greg reached behind Blake’s head, unbuckled the strap and pulled the cock-shaped gag out of his mouth. Blake flexed his stiff jaw and rolled his head around to relax his muscles. Then Greg reached up and released Blake’s cuffs from the snap-link they were fastened to and pulled Blake’s shirt off his shoulders. Blake also had a well-muscled chest with tight rounded pecs. His nipples sat on the bottoms of his pecs, pointing slightly downward as they poked through the fur. “Very nice,” Burt whistled, taking in the sight of Blake’s chest. “You son of a.” Blake breathed. “Unh-uhhh,” Burt warned. “I told you not to try anything. Now behave yourself or I may have to injure you and I’d really hate to damage that man-flesh.” Thompson sagged back against the post, his fury frustrated. “String him up again boy and finish the job.” Greg re-attached the cuffs on Blake’s wrists to the snap-link, suspending his arms over his head once again. Then he unfastened Blake’s trousers and pulled them down, exposing his strong, furry legs. Greg knelt to remove his shoes and socks and then pulled his pants off, leaving him clad only in his underwear. Finally the briefs were pulled down as well and Blake’s heavy endowment was displayed to the view of these men who’d taken him captive.

“Very nice indeed,” Burt said. “A fine catch. You’ll make a great addition to our herd, Lt. Thompson. Only you need to learn your place. So from now on, you’ll be called ‘boy’ or maybe ‘slave’. That’s it. And your only answer will be ‘Yes Sir’ or ‘No Sir’. Do you understand boy?” “Fuck you!” Blake spat out. Burt, his eyes narrowing to slits, walked up to the captive cop. “Oh my. You really do have a lot to learn.” And with that he pulled out a stun gun and jammed it into Thompson’s exposed balls. Thompson screamed and tried to double over. But all he could do was try to pull his legs up to cover himself. “Now, would you like to try that again boy?” “F-f-fuck y-y—.” Burt held the arcing, snapping stun gun close to Blake’s aching genitals. Tears appeared in the corners of his eyes; tears of pain and humiliation. “Yes Sir,” he rasped out. “Good boy. You see? We’re not so hard to get along with. Now, again. What do you say boy?” “Yes Sir,” Blake whispered, still hardly able to support himself. “I knew you could learn,” said Burt, stroking his tear-streaked face. Then he turned on Frank. “And how about you boy? Would you like to cooperate with me or do I need to help you understand?” “Yes Sir. I mean no Sir. I understand Sir,” Frank stammered, his cock standing rigid, but his balls shrinking up as close to his body as they could get in fear of what he’d just seen. “Good boy. I thought we might be able to reach an agreement.”

“Now for the next step in your induction. Lt. Barber here will help me, but I’ll do most of the work myself, since it requires some training. Come with me boy,” Burt said to Greg and walked to one of the cupboards. In a few moments, they came back to the two bound cops. “Put the spreader bar on that boy!” Burt ordered, indicating Blake. Greg took another spreader bar and knelt to buckle the shackles at either end onto Blake’s ankles. As he knelt there, his short, soft hair caressed the underside of Thompson’s long, heavy cock, sending a thrill through him unlike any he’d experienced before. Then Greg wrapped a chain around the bar itself, lashing it to the post. Blake found that he could hardly move. How had he gotten himself into this fix? Damn them! he thought. Barber moved over to Frank and chained his spreader to the post to which he was bound, similarly immobilizing him.

Burt stood between the two cops holding to large syringes, each with what appeared to be a cock on the end of it. “Rohypnol. Your first of many doses. This will be enough to let you find pleasure in what’s happening to you, but not enough to keep you from experiencing what we need you to feel. Don’t worry; you’ll understand as it’s happening.” Frank and Blake both knew about rohypnol and were determined not to swallow it. But they weren’t the first unwilling man-cows that Burt had dealt with, so he knew just how to administer the drug. One of Burt’s goons, Harry, came into the room and they moved to Blake. “Open up boy. Don’t give us a hard time,” Burt coaxed. Blake locked his jaws, sure that if he swallowed the liquid, he’d be lost. So Burt’s assistant placed his thumbs at the joints of his jaws and began to press. Blake began to moan and struggle and then the moan turned into a cry that was suddenly stifled as Burt thrust the cock into his mouth and held it there. “I’ll bet you’ve never had one of these in your mouth before. Am I right?” Blake, his tongue held down by the shaft in his mouth, just glared at him. “That’s all right boy. You can answer later. I know it’s tough when your mouth is full of dick. Now you really need to swallow like the good boy that I know you are.” Again, Blake glared and shook his head. “OK,” said Burt wearily. “I guess we’ll have to treat you like a child.” Burt nodded to Harry, who moved in front of Blake, placed his hands under his jaw and pressed his head back against the post, preventing him from opening his mouth. Then Burt pressed the plunger of the syringe, filling Blake’s mouth with the fluid. Then he pinched Blake’s nostrils, shutting off his air. Blake quickly realized that he’d have to swallow or pass out. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t! The room began to grow black and narrow down as his chest burned and pulled for air. Swallow and breath. Swallow and breath. Blake heard the voice; he didn’t know if it was his own or Burt’s and suddenly, he didn’t care. As he swallowed, his jaw was released and he opened his mouth, choking and gasping for air.

As the room came back into focus, he felt a strange warmth spreading through his body, tingling his extremities and making his cock feel firm and sensitive. He could even feel the air currents wafting across its surfaces. He looked over at Clark, who stood there wide-eyed as Burt approached him with the second syringe. “Your turn, bright eyes. Open up for Daddy.” Frank clamped his mouth shut and shook his head. “Now, now, boy. Do I have to force you too? You see that Lt. Blake finally saw the error of his ways. Come on now; open up and take your medicine.” Frank stared at him, realizing that he would ultimately have to swallow the drug and lose himself to the Milk Bar. Tears welled up in his bright blue eyes and he opened his mouth to take the nipple. Burt chuckled. “That’s a good boy. I knew you’d see the light,” he said as he inserted the cock-shaped nipple into Frank’s mouth and pushed the plunger home. Frank swallowed as fast as he could, but his mouth overflowed and he choked. But most of the fluid went down his throat and into his belly. He closed his eyes and hung his head, aware that he’d taken another step down the road of humiliation toward servitude. His cock throbbed in response to the drug and to his feelings of degradation as warmth spread through his belly to his legs and groin.

Opposite him, Blake was experiencing a similar drug-induced arousal. His dick was hardening and rising; his eyes were becoming unfocused and he began to rub his ass-crack against the post to which he was chained in his search for stimulation. Burt walked back to Blake. “Right, boy; it’s time for the next step in your induction, now that you’re losing control of your sexual responses. Burt snapped his fingers and his assistant placed an electric hair trimmer in his hand. “Kneel boy and give your friend some of your mouth music. But don’t allow him to come. Do you understand?” “Yes Sir,” Greg answered and knelt in front of Blake. He took his stiffening dick in his mouth and cradled it on his tongue as he began his work. “Now boy,” Burt said to Blake. “You will begin to learn the pleasures of humiliation.” Saying that, he switched on the trimmer and placed it against Blake’s armpit. “Please Sir,” Blake pleaded. “Please don’t do this to me. Please.” Burt just laughed and ran the trimmer through the hair in his pit, stripping away the first signs of his manhood. “Each stroke,” he said, “takes away more of your manhood and makes you more of a boy. By the time I’m finished, you’ll be completely denuded. You’ll be completely humiliated. You’ll be that much closer to being part of The Milk Bar’s herd of man-cows.”

Blake was whimpering, caught up in the stimulation he was getting from his first blow-job by an expert cock-sucker who happened to be one of his colleagues and the imminent removal of all signs of his manhood. Burt continued his work, cleaning away the hair from his armpits and then attacking the hair on his chest. Greg felt the cock in his throat beginning to throb and jerk and knew he needed to bring this inductee back down. So he bit firmly as he backed off the flesh filling his mouth. Blake gasped in combined pain, frustration and arousal. All he knew was how much he wanted to come and how aroused he was. He also knew he felt utterly humiliated as his hair was stripped from his body and fell to the floor, raining over Barber’s head. But Barber didn’t seem to notice or care. He just kept working on Blake’s cock. When Burt reached Blake’s belly, he pushed Greg off his cock. “Kneel back boy and wait.” “Yes Sir,” Greg answered and, clasping his hands behind his back, sat back on his heels as the drool ran down his chin and dripped into his chest hair. Blake stared at him, realizing that was in store for him and tears rolled down his cheeks. His mind reeled and protested against it, but his body wasn’t listening. His cock jerked and throbbed at the feeling of his own degradation.

Burt placed the vibrating trimmer at the top of Blake’s bush. “This is it boy; the last of your manhood to go.” And he ran the blade straight down, shearing a swath through the middle of Blake’s pubic hair. Blake drew a ragged breath as he looked down to watch his own unmanning. And rising from his progressively more nude crotch was his hard cock, looking larger and larger as the hair surrounding it disappeared and it did, in fact, continue to grow. Burt bent his stiff penis downward to clean the hair off the top of it. Then he bent it left and then right to strip the fur from the sides of the shaft. Lastly, he held it against Blake’s belly to clip the hairs from the underside. “Good,” he said when he’d finished. “Harry, bring the foam and the razor.” Burt spread shaving foam over his body from armpits to chest and down to his crotch and drew the sharp blade across Blake’s skin, scraping away the remaining stubble. As he shaved around the cop’s tits, he shielded them with his thumb and flicked the points with his nail when the blade had passed by. He pinched them and squeezed them again and again, sending electric shots down Blake’s spine. Blake shuddered and began to tremble, for as Burt worked to shave him clean, he was chanting quietly, but loud enough for Blake to hear: “You’re a boy now. You’re a boy. You belong to the Milk Bar. You will learn from the Milk Bar. You are the slave of the Milk Bar.” Blake shook his head back and forth as he answered “No Sir. Please Sir. No Sir.” Burt didn’t care about Blake’s denial because he was using “Sir”. He knew his boy would be saying “Yes Sir” soon enough.

Burt was finished and rose to his feet. “Good boy. You’re looking just right. We’ll keep you shaved for the time-being. As you become more integrated into the herd, we’ll let you grow your hair back. Now,” he said turning to Frank. “Let’s get going with you.” Frank looked at him wide-eyed, his eyes shifting from the sight of the denuded Lt. Thompson back to Burt. “Sir,” he whispered. Burt stepped close to him. “You’re gay aren’t you? Tell me the truth. It’ll be easier. Because we’ll find out anyway.” Frank hung his head. “Yes Sir. I’m not out at the station, except for a few close friends.” “It’s all right boy. Your secret’s safe with us. And don’t worry about Lt. Thompson here. He won’t be spilling the beans.” “Yes Sir,” Frank said and waited. Burt ran the back of his fingers over Frank’s copper fur. Then he moved his hand down to his bush and grasped a handful. “We’ll leave the chest hair. I’ll clear enough from around your tits so that the Pumper can get a good seal. But since we already know you’re gay we won’t have to completely break you down like we’re doing with this boy,” he said, gesturing toward Blake with his head. “But we’ll shave your crotch because that’s the sign of a new addition to the herd.” Burt took the straight razor and carefully cleared away a circle of the copper surrounding Frank’s pink nipples. Then he took the clippers and ran them through Frank’s bush, clearing the hair away from his pubes, cock and balls just like he had Blake’s.

The humiliation and vibrations of the clippers made his cock even harder than it already was, making pre-cum drip from the end. Burt caught some of the clear fluid with his fingers and tasted it. “Ummm. Good stuff. Our customers will like this. Here, taste it yourself.” He rewet his fingers and lifted them to Frank’s lips. Frank started to turn his head away, but Burt said “Remember your place boy.” Frank slowly turned his head back and opened his mouth. Burt put his fingers in and touched Frank’s tongue. “Suck it,” he ordered. Frank closed his lips around Burt’s fingers and sucked, licking his fingers as he did. “Good boy,” Burt said, pulling his wet hand out and gently slapping Frank’s cheek. He took more of Frank’s copious pre-cum and walked over to where Blake hung, his head hanging down in humiliation. “Time for your first taste of man-juice boy. It might as well be your buddy’s. Open wide.” Blake was lost in a haze of degradation and sexual arousal and simply raised his head and opened his mouth as commanded. Burt inserted his fingers into his mouth and pushed in. Blake gagged from the taste and the fingers touching his palate. “Uuuunnhhh, uuuunnnnhhhh, aaaaaahhhhhh, eeeeeeeeeee,” he gasped and choked. “Lick it,” Burt said. “Come on. Suck on the fingers. Taste the man-juice.” Blake shot his tongue between Burt’s fingers, trying to get all the pre-cum off of them. Finally Burt withdrew his hand and ran it through Blake’s hair. “That’s a very good boy. I’m proud of you. That wasn’t so bad, was it boy?” “No Sir.” “What do you say boy, when your betters give you a gift?” “Thank you.” “Thank you, what?” “Thank you Sir.” “Good boy. You’re learning.”

Burt slapped Blake’s cheek with his wet hand; wet from Blake’s own spit. “You’re turning out to be a good boy. I’m pleased.” “Thank you Sir,” Blake said, hanging his head. Burt turned to Harry. “Get the horses Harry. Put them end-to-end.” Harry pulled two padded horses over and placed them near the posts to which the two cops were bound. He unhooked Frank and dragged him to one of the horses and laid him along its length so that his torso was resting on the padded board but his cock and balls were hanging off the end. He hooked the cuffs on Frank’s wrists to the legs. Then he took the spreader bar and, bending Frank’s knees, lifted the bar into hooks on the back legs, immobilizing his legs and exposing his ass hole. He looked rather like a jockey astride a race horse, with his legs bent sharply and his ass in the air. Then Harry took a ring-gag and, pulling Frank’s mouth open, shoved it in, buckling it in back of his head. The gag had a metal ring in it that forced the wearer’s mouth open but left the opening exposed. Perfect for the insertion of whatever the master might have in mind. “Good boy,” Harry said and slapped Franks white ass cheeks drawing a squeal of pain and surprise from the trussed cop. “Ooooh, these are far too white. We’re going to have to get some color in them pretty soon.” Harry laughed and slapped the other cheek, leaving a pink hand-print on the smooth white skin. “Get on with it Harry. We have work to do,” Burt barked. “Yes Sir. Sorry Sir,” Harry answered and went to where Blake hung from his post. Harry took him down and dragged him to the other horse and repeated the operation with him. The two captive cops were now facing one another, each straddling a horse. Their faces, with their gaping mouths, were only inches apart.

“Stuff them,” Burt ordered. “And dip the dildo in some man-juice. We need to get them addicted to the flavor as quickly as we can.” Harry took a large, double-ended dildo and dipped each end in a jar of thick fluid. Then he pushed one end through the opening in Frank’s gag. “Don’t fight it boy. Put your tongue down. I don’t want to hurt you.” Frank’s eyes widened as the dildo slid in and lodged against the back of his throat. Then Harry slid the other end into Blake’s gag. Blake tried to move his head away, but being completely bound, he had no leverage and Harry merely held onto his head and pushed the dildo home. The cops were now joined at the mouth by an invading, bitter-salty tasting cock.

In a few moments, Blake felt hot lather on his perineum and pucker. He squinted as tears stung his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. No one had ever touched him there before, except when his doctor examined his prostate and he hated that. It was so degrading. But this! His ass-hole was being shave, removing the last vestige of his manhood and there was nothing he could do or say about it, especially with a rubber dick filling his mouth. And to make it worse, his cock was stiffening, pressing against the end of the horse on which he was trussed. He felt the razor scrapping the hair away, exposing his hole and as the lather cooled, it made his rosebud pucker. Then he felt Burt’s finger at his opening. “Nooo. Nooo,” he tried to say but only a squeal came out around the rubber cock filling his mouth and holding down his tongue. “Please don’t,” he wanted to say. “Please don’t do this to me. Please!” he wanted to beg, but nothing but whimpers and squeals escaped from his throat. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and, if he hadn’t been joined to Frank Clark by the dong that choked them both, he would have hung his head and wept. He’d never felt so humiliated in his life. As the finger pumped in and out of his hole, a voice kept sounding in his ear, or was it inside his head? “You’re a slave. Your body’s no longer your own.” Over and over. Blake was beginning to believe it. The finger in his ass was proof. After a couple of minutes, the finger was pulled out of his hole but was quickly replaced by another object that slid into his chute until he felt its flared end touch his cheeks. Then the object began to softly vibrate, driving home the message he kept hearing: he was no longer his own.

Burt moved next to Frank and bent down, placing his face next to Frank’s. “You like this don’t you boy? Your stiff cock tells me you like it. Tell me the truth.” Frank could make himself understood no better than Blake, but he knew that it was pointless to deny what his hard flesh proclaimed. This turned him on immensely. He looked sideways at Burt and tried to nod his head. “Yes Sir. I like this,” he tried to say. But only grunts came out. “Good boy,” Burt said, smiling. “You’re proving to be a great addition to the herd. We’re going to teach you many things and you’ll be very happy here.” Then he slapped him on his still-pink butt-cheek. In a few moments, Frank felt the warmth of lather being spread over his own hole and he knew what was coming. But he no longer cared. He was already surrendering to the Milk Bar. He’d found what he’d been seeking for so long but couldn’t bring himself to admit. He’d picked up copies of bondage and SM magazines in some of those shops, but he couldn’t bring himself to go to the places where the men who did those things hung out. As much as he wanted it, he was too afraid. So it had come looking for him and now that it had found him, he welcomed its embrace. He welcomed the loss of control and the surrender of his manhood. He’d come home.

Finally Burt was finished with Frank’s butt and he signaled to Harry. “Take them and get them cleaned out then get them washed. Then take them into the Training room. Take Barber and have him show them the proper way for slaves to wash.” “Yes Sir,” Harry answered. He took two pairs of leg shackles with short chains between the cuffs and, removing the spreader bars on the two new recruits, replaced them with the shackles. He jerked the vibrating butt-plug out of Blake’s asshole, making him grunt in pain. He pulled the rubber dong out of the cops’ mouths and removed the ring gags. Then he unhooked their cuffs that held their arms to the horses and pulled them to their feet. They were a little unsteady so he ordered Barber to assist them and, using the stun gun, directed them to the door and down the hall. Greg walked between them, his arms around each of their backs and helped them down the hall. Blake and Frank shuffled down the hall to the tiled bath room.

“Both of you go stand in front of one of those toilets. Butt to the stool. Then bend over and grab your ankles,” Harry ordered them. Greg helped them to assume the correct position. Blake had very little resistance left at that point and did as he was ordered, bending and grabbing his ankles with his back to the toilet. Frank was completely cooperative but his body was trembling with anxiety as he wondered what was in store. He craned his neck to try to see what Harry was doing in the cupboard. Harry was pulling out some bottles and adding the contents to two large syringes. After adding water and shaking the syringes, Harry approached the two slave recruit and walked behind them. Frank heard Blake grunt and glanced over to see him grimacing. “Breathe deeply,” Harry said quietly, rubbing Blake’s belly with one hand. Frank guessed what was going on. “You need to hold that for three minutes. Don’t move boy and don’t lose any of it. Do you understand?” “Yes Sir,” Blake grunted, screwing up his face with effort and discomfort. Then Frank felt Harry’s finger on his own hole, pushing in and greasing him up. Then, the nozzle of the syringe replaced the finger and Frank felt the fluid flowing into his gut. Harry stroked his belly, helping to spread the liquid through his bowels. As the fluid flowed in, Frank felt a strange warmth spreading through his abdomen and radiating outward to his chest and his groin. Then suddenly, he was gripped by a cramp as his bowels rebelled, seeking to expel their contents. “Don’t you dare dribble boy, or you’ll be very unhappy.” “Yes Sir,” Frank groaned, trying to clench his anal sphincter and keep his legs from giving way at the same time. He broke out in a sweat with his effort. Next to him, Blake was groaning, his sweat dripping on the floor. When would it be over? “Two more minutes,” Harry said as Frank and Blake both gave long, closed-mouth groans. Frank wondered if he dared unlock his knees, at least relieving the stress on his trembling legs. But he realized that is he did, he might collapse and, literally, spill his guts all over the floor. So he hung on, gritting his teeth and concentrating on clenching his sphincter.

“One minute to go. Breathe boys. Come on. Breath in for ten. Now out.” Harry was coaching the inexperienced slaves and they found that following his instructions did indeed help. “OK boy, help me get them on the toilets,” Harry ordered Greg. Frank and Blake were grateful to feel hands on their hips, guiding them back and down. Almost before their legs and butts hit the cold porcelain of the seatless toilets, their bowels let go, releasing streams of liquid into the toilets. The sounds of water and shit splashing into the bowls and the noises of wet farts filled the air as the air was laced with the smell of shit. Finally, they were empty. “Up. Again!” Harry ordered and they rose from the stools and, once again, grabbed their ankles as smelly water ran down their legs. Once again, each of them was filled with an enema and ordered to hold it. “Two minutes this time,” Harry said and Frank breathed a sigh of relief. One minute into the two, he realized, as the sweat coursed down his back and face, that two minutes weren’t much easier than three. Again, cramps wracked his guts and he knew, from the grunts and groans that Blake was voicing, that he was suffering too. At last, they felt those welcome hands on their hips, pushing them back toward the toilets. Gratefully, they relaxed their sphincters and expelled the liquid that caused them so much discomfort. “Good. You’re clean,” Harry said. “Under the showers. Barber, show them how to wash.” “Yes Sir,” Greg answered and stepped into the shower area.

Following Greg’s lead, Blake and Frank stepped under the shower heads. “Now, slaves, listen up. Slaves don’t wash themselves; they wash each other. This boy will show you how. You never touch your own cock and balls. You let one of your buddies do it for you and you do it for them. That’s the way we do it. Understand?” “Yes Sir,” they mumbled as Harry turned on the water. “Soap’s in the dispensers. Follow his lead,” Harry said, indicating Greg, who squirted some soap in his hand and spread it over Blake’s back. Blake shivered at Greg’s touch but didn’t move away. Greg lathered his back and then ran one hand into Blake’s ass-crack. At this, Blake flinched and started to turn on Greg. “Don’t try it boy. Stand still and follow orders.” Blake sagged. “Yes Sir,” he said, his defenses being chipped away, one by one. Greg pushed a soapy finger into Blake’s pucker, which was rapidly loosing its aura of sacredness in Blake’s mind. He scrubbed Blake’s hole and, naturally, his finger came out clean. Then he turned Blake around and lathered his denuded chest. He pushed Blake’s arms up and washed his smooth pits. Then he reached for Blake’s genitals. “Uunnn!” Blake exclaimed, startled as Greg stretched his hands toward his privates. “Down boy.” Harry shouted, shutting off the water and jumping into Blake’s face. “Get this and get it now. They’re not yours anymore. They belong to the Milk Bar and this is how we wash. Do you understand?” Harry demanded, emphasizing each word of the question. Blake lowered his cuffed hands. “Yes Sir.” “Yes what boy?” “Yes Sir. I understand Sir.” “What do you understand boy? Tell me. I want to hear you say it.” “I understand that my cock and balls are no longer mine.” “Who’s are they?” “They’re the Milk Bar’s Sir.” “Say it again.” “My cock and balls belong to the Milk Bar.” “And what are you?” “I’m a boy Sir.” “Good boy. That’s a good boy,” said Harry, stroking his head. “You’re coming along.” Harry took Blake’s cock in his hand and sending a shiver down his spine. “It’s a nice cock. Nice shape; nice weight. Customers will enjoy using it.” Then he let go of it and slapped it, making it bounce off Blake’s thigh and causing Blake to double over at the sudden sting. Greg took Blake’s cock in his soapy hand and washed it, pulling a moan from Blake’s chest. Finally, he was finished. He pushed Blake under the stream of water and turned him around, ensuring that he was completely rinsed.

“OK, boy. Your turn,” said Harry, gesturing to Frank. Frank moved to Greg and meekly permitted his superior officer to soap and wash his body. When Barber stuck his finger in his hole, he nearly fell from the sense of invasion and arousal. Before today, he’d never had another man touch him there, yet he’d wanted it for so long that this being the first time, except for the awful enema, it almost made him come. His cock throbbed and leaked pre-cum onto the tiled floor. Then Greg washed his smooth cock and balls. He was so aroused that he suddenly lost control. He began to thrust his hips spasmodically and spurted across the shower, yelling and gasping for breath. Greg stood back, aghast. His fellow-slave had come without permission; surely he would be punished for that. Greg only hoped that he wouldn’t be punished also for bringing the new recruit off.

“What the hell did you do boy?” Harry yelled at them. They were both stricken. “I’m sorry Sir. I didn’t mean it. Please Sir. I’m sorry,” they both stammered, Frank gasping and trying to catch his breath. Greg hurried to Harry and fell to his knees, his head down. He was the senior man-cow here and it was his responsibility. “Please Sir. It’s my fault. Please don’t punish him. He’s new and he couldn’t help himself.” Harry began to calm down. “Alright boy. I’ll talk with Burt and ask him to go easy on him. It’s a lot for him to take after all. So I’ll see what I can do. But Mr. Delaney isn’t going to be happy about losing his cream. Oh well, no use crying over spilt milk. Rinse him off, then the two of you will wash Barber to get the cream off him.” Greg rinsed Frank and then stood waiting. The two recruits looked at him for a moment, then Frank got some soap from the dispenser and shyly began to soap Greg’s chest. He lathered the fur covering his pecs and slowly approached the hard, rough very experienced nipples. He’d never touched another man’s tits, much as he’d wanted to. He loved tits and now he was finally getting to feel some. He was thrilled by the feel of the cones under his palms. He fingered the ring and his mouth fell open in awe. Could he have one like it one day? He could only hope.

Then he knelt and stared at Greg’s heavy cock and balls. He was being allowed to handle; no he was being ordered to handle another man’s genitals and his own cock, which had softened only slightly after his orgasm, rose once again to full staff. Blake, in the meantime, could only go so far as soaping Greg’s shoulders, arms and hands

Harry shook his head. This one would be a little tougher. But he’d be worth the trouble in the end. When Blake and Frank stood back from Greg, Harry ordered them to rinse him. Frank took every opportunity to have Greg’s dick brush his hands or legs as he turned his body under the spray. When they’d finished, Harry said “OK, get towels and dry him off. Then he’ll dry you two. After you’re finished we’re going to the training room.”

The recruits took towels and dried Greg, who was their senior, shivering slightly in the cold. When they’d finished, Greg grabbed towels and dried Blake, then Frank. When he was finished, Harry directed them down the hall to a nearby room. With each step, they moved deeper and deeper into the influence and control of the Milk Bar. Frank knew that neither of them would ever be the same again. He didn’t know how Lt. Thompson was feeling at that moment, but he felt both anxious and calm. He had come home!