Ben then pushed a button on his intercom. A surprised voice replied, “Someone sick?” Ben smiled. “You can come up to the Admissions Office and collect our latest arrival, Ronnie. He’s all checked in and ready to be cleaned up and given his physical.” Then he looked at Hop Sing, who was fidgeting uneasily in his chair and still tugging at his gold collar.

“Ronnie is our newest resident doctor,” Ben informed him, “He’s going to make sure you’re all clean and in good health before you’re exposed to the rest of the population here.”

“But I already had a bath before we came!” Hop Sing protested, “And I’m not sick…sir!” He added, suddenly remembering to use the title. The door opened, and Hop Sing jumped a little.

Ronnie was tall and slim, with a full head of thick brown hair. He wore glasses, and he was dressed in white scrubs with a large red cross on left breast pocket. He came in and offered a long-fingered hand to Hop Sing, who shook it reluctantly. “Why do they all look at me like that?” Ronnie demanded of Ben, in a voice that sounded like a boy’s and not a man’s. “Relax, little buddy, I’m not gonna hurt you – much,” Ronnie admitted.

“I hate doctors,” Hop Sing grumbled, as Ronnie urged him out of his seat, holding his hand. Hop Sing’s free hand moved to cover his genitals. Even though he’d been relieved of his clothing – except for a pair of sandals for outside – upon his arrival on the island, he was far from used to walking around naked when all these strange adults were dressed. He could feel his face getting hot as Ronnie brushed his hand away from his crotch.

“Manners,” Ben reminded him.

“Sorry, sir,” Hop Sing replied quietly.

“Has he had plenty of water?” Knox asked.

Ben nodded at Hop Sing, who got the hint. “They made me drink four bottles, you know, the pop bottle size, already, sir,” the boy answered as politely as he could. The doctor seemed pleased.

“He’ll need the usual, Ronnie. New arrival, all that stuff…you know the drill. Clean him up, clean him out, rabies shots, all that good stuff!” Ben advised.

“Rabies?!” Hop Sing squeaked, not realizing it was a joke.

“C’mon, Buddy,” Ronnie said, giving the boy a small tug.

“Hop Sing, sir,” the boy replied, reluctantly following him, and glad that he wasn’t getting an embarrassing erection in front of everyone again.

“OK, I’ll call you ‘Hop’, then,” Ronnie agreed, “Seriously, though, we do have a few shots to give you,” Ronnie explained, as they headed out the door, “Now the medical complex is just over there,” he pointed out the window, “Get your sandals, we’ll cut across the yard…,” his voice trailed off as the doctor led the boy from the room.

Ben then turned to his computer. “Computer, commence new recording for new arrival, ‘Hop Sing’, class red, and save initial arrival data file.” The computer’s screen flickered for a moment, then it did as told. Ben raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t often that the computers ‘burped’.

“Confirmed,” The computer’s voice replied, in a soft feminine tone, “Hop Sing is now located on the front lawn of Admissions, headed for the hospital with Doctor Knox.”

“Another day, another...well, you know how that goes,” Ben said to himself, as he watched the video of Knox leading the boy across the grass. “Track Hop Sing, view live video,” Ben told the computer. High above their heads, and unbeknownst to Hop Sing, a coconut swiveled and gave Ben a better view from its hidden camera. The lens zoomed in and followed the pair as far as its focal length allowed, then the camera at the door of the hospital took over.

“Kick off your shoes and put them on the shelf,” Knox told the boy, who did that. Hop Sing flinched when Knox sprayed his feet with some kind of aerosol. “Disinfectant,” he explained, spraying his own and putting on slippers. He didn’t offer Hop Sing a pair. He then ushered the boy into a large room all painted white, lined with cabinets, cupboards, shelves, sinks, even bathroom facilities on the far end behind a glass wall. There was an exam table in the center of the room, a few padded chairs, some small tables, potted plants, and another smaller exam table behind the glass wall in the bath area.

Expecting the usual, as he had had physicals before, Hop Sing got on the table. Knox took his vitals, then pulled out a large needle to take blood. Hop Sing almost fainted! Knox then poked, squeezed, prodded, made him cough for a hernia check, and even picked him up and shook him gently once. “I just wanted to make sure your head was screwed on tight,” he told the boy, which made him laugh. He also tested his reflexes, discovering in the process that the boy was extremely vulnerable to tickling – especially on the soles of his feet. When he was done, he made notes. “Allergies?”

Hop Sing shook his head. “Just one headache pill, that yellow one? Makes me…,”

“Makes you puke,” Knox finished for him, “Lots of people have that problem with it. NO food allergies at all?”

“No, sir,” the boy shook his head.

“Go on in there and get a shower, then,” Knox ordered him. “Your collar is waterproof, remember, so don’t worry about it. Use the soap in the red bottle on your lower body, all over. Scrub it in with the washrag, everywhere! Use the green bottle for your head and face, behind your ears,” he smiled, patting the boy’s head, “And for what hair you do have. DO NOT get the red soap in your eyes! It stings like heck!”

“Yes, sir,” Hop Sing sighed, doing as he was told. Knox watched him lather up and scrub for a while, then, much to Hop Sing’s surprise, stripped down to what looked like white boxers and joined him. Knox took the washrag from him. Hop Sing wondered why the doctor didn’t have any hair on his legs or chest; his father did, after all. So did Uncle John.

“Why a boy can’t wash himself at this age, properly, is beyond me,” the doctor grumbled, as he proceeded to scrub where he felt the boy had been negligent. Hop Sing winced when Knox told him to bend over. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to DO anything like THAT to you, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Knox assured him, giving Hop Sing’s backside a good scrubbing. He then cleaned the boy’s genitals, which made him yelp and get another erection. “Sorry,” Knox offered. “Not used to that,” he said. Then he noticed that the boy was trembling. “What?” He asked.

“Are you…are you…,” Hop Sing began haltingly, “Gonna cut it off NOW?” He finally managed to ask, putting his hands down to hold his genitals again.

Knox laughed. “No!” He said in a sympathetic tone, “Not NOW! That won’t happen for a while yet, not until after you’re fully trained! Didn’t they tell you that?”

“No,” the boy muttered dismally, “I just found out they’re gonna cut it all off when I got here,” he sniffled. “Nobody told me, an’ if they did, I would’a run away!”

“I see,” Knox said knowingly, having heard it a hundred times before, as he picked up the green bottle and began scrubbing away at Hop Sing’s fuzzy head. “There’s a little chunk gone out of your left earlobe,” he observed.

“Born that way,” the boy replied, clenching his eyes shut as the soap tingled all over him. The red soap on his lower body was actually beginning to burn a bit. Hop Sing didn’t know that it was actually soaking in and killing all the hair follicles, so that he’d never have body hair anywhere again, no matter what, after a few weeks of using it. He didn’t even notice when the fuzz that he had here and there washed off.

“Oh, here, pee in that,” Knox suddenly remembered, handing the boy a large cup. “That’s why you had all the water to drink!”

“Pee test?” Hop Sing knew, which made him smile. Knox caught it. At least that was funny, for the moment. He was sure the boy wouldn’t be smiling very shortly.

Finally, it seemed that the doctor was happy with the clean boy and rinsed him. He shut the water off. “Now, hop up on the table here,” he ordered him. The boy smirked at the pun, which Knox didn’t catch. “Lay back.” Hop Sing did that. “Now, I have to ask, Hop, have you ever had anything – anything at all – put up your butt before?”

“No?” Hop Sing answered nervously. “But you said…?”

“I have to give you an enema, several in fact,” Knox informed him, “Do you know what that is?”

“No, sir,” the boy replied, as Knox positioned him on the table. Actually, it was more of a padded frame than a table. It was built like an ‘X’ with a headrest.

“Well,” the doctor went on, moving to secure the boy’s ankles. Hop Sing sat back up in surprise. “Now, just relax! That’s so you don’t move and hurt yourself!” Hop Sing laid back. Knox secured his ankles and wrists, then placed a padded white strap across his chest. “Now, what an enema does is fill up your insides – your guts, if you will – with soap and water and other ingredients. It cleans you out inside, so there’s nothing bad left up in there.”

Hop Sing’s eyes went wide. “You mean it makes me go?”

“You’ll GO like it’s the end of the world,” Knox nodded, reaching for the showerhead. Hop Sing noticed that there was a white hose hanging beside it, with some kind of gauge in the middle of the line. Doctor Knox attached it to the showerhead and let it hang while he went to look in a cabinet. He returned with a small conically shaped thing in his hand, then attached it to the hose. He then fetched a small bulb with a long black snout. He fetched a tray full of odd things that the boy didn’t know what they were, then put his scrubs back on. He also put on a pair of white rubber boots and rubber gloves.

“Are you gonna put that up my butt?” Hop Sing asked nervously, as Knox took a tube of lubricant from his tray and smeared some on the bulb. He then filled a smaller ear syringe and nodded. Hop Sing gulped.

“First, we inject some lube into your bottom,” Knox explained, gently smearing some on the boy’s tight anus. Hop Sing flinched again, but it didn’t hurt. It just felt funny. Very gently, he felt the doctor probing at his hole with a fingertip. “Just relax, push out like you have to poop,” he advised the boy. Hop Sing did that, and gasped loudly when Knox’s finger slid in. He got hard at once, his small penis standing right up. The doctor saw it.

“That’s a good sign,” he commented, moving his finger around. Hop Sing’s penis twitched, and he moaned as the doctor’s finger touched something very funny inside of him. It didn’t hurt; in fact, it sort of felt good. Still, it humiliated him. There he was, strapped down and helpless, and getting hard with a doctor’s finger up his butt. Hop Sing blushed.

“Easy now,” the doctor told him, pulling his finger out and replacing it with the syringe. The boy felt something warm and slimy going into him. “That makes it all slick so the nozzle won’t hurt you,” the doctor went on, picking up the bulb. “This has the main ingredients in it, we’ll infuse those first.” He then touched the nozzle of the bulb to the boy’s anus, gently, working it back and forth slowly to open him up. Finally, he eased it in and squeezed the bulb. “Soap, phosphates, salt, and some other things,” he explained. Hop Sing gasped and grew fully erect as the cleansing solution was emptied into his bowels. Then the doctor took the hose down and started running some water through it. He then lubricated the conical nozzle, which looked huge to Hop Sing.

“That…that goes up my BUTT too?” the boy squeaked.

“It goes in and stays in for ten minutes,” Knox nodded, “That’s why the table is in here with the showers and a floor drain. The nozzle makes it so you can’t let the water out until I take the nozzle out. Now, I want you take some deep breathes, relax, and don’t worry!”

Hop Sing nodded and tried to relax. His penis throbbed in time with his pulse, and he wanted to reach down and touch it, play with it, but he couldn’t with his hands bound. He gasped again as the doctor pressed the tip of the nozzle against his anus and began sliding it in. The nozzle moved in a little, then the doctor pulled it back. He then pushed it forward, back, then forward again, working it to relax the anus even more. The boy whimpered, as it did hurt just a little at first. Then the plug passed the ring of muscles and slid into place. Hop Sing exhaled hard. “Now comes the water,” Knox told him, turning the water on. Hop Sing could feel the warm water filling him, staring at the hose and the gauge on it. “One and one-half quarts is what you get,” Knox informed him. “When you’re bigger, you can take more. Some of the older boys, those who stayed on, can even take three quarts.” He watched the gauge as it passed the ‘pint’ mark.

Hop Sing squealed as the first cramp hit him.

Knox began massaging his tummy, then tilted the table back to elevate the boy’s feet. “This gets the water deep inside you,” the doctor explained, “The cramps will pass.”

Hop Sing nodded, trying not to cry. He didn’t like the funny feeling of the plug in his butt, and the feeling of warm water and bubbling up inside of him frightened him. The gauge passed the quart mark, and his tummy began to swell outwards.

“Please, sir!” the boy cried, “I have to go NOW!”

“Ten minutes,” the doctor reminded him, shutting off the flow and clamping the tube. He then continued to massage the boy’s swollen tummy, working his hands up the left side, over, and then down the right. The whole time, Hop Sing’s erection bobbed in time with his pulse. “Still a good sign,” Knox told him, as the boy began to sweat. He was getting hot all of a sudden. “Deep breathes, that’s it, just a few more minutes!”

Hop Sing shook his head. He’d never had to go so badly before in his life! He tried to force the nozzle out, to find some kind of relief from whatever it was that felt like it was eating his guts out, but he couldn’t. Then Knox tilted the table so that he was in a standing position and flicked a lever. Hop Sing’s knees buckled as the table collapsed to put him in a kneeling position over the floor drain. Knox put a small pail under him. “For a stool sample,” he explained, as he made ready to unplug the boy. “Here we go! When you feel it come out of you, just GO, OK?”

Hop Sing could only nod. When the plug came out of him, he almost fainted as his bowels let go of their own accord. The smell was terrible.

“I can see a change of diet is in order right now,” Knox observed, as the boy continued to let the enema out. He moved his sample container and then rinsed the suffering boy in warm water from the hose, as he’d made quite a mess.

When Hop Sing was finally done going, he felt weak and sleepy. “I think three or four more should do it,” Knox mused, hooking up the enema hose again. Hop Sing came awake at once.

“WHAT?!” He cried, shaking his head, as Knox put him back in the receiving position.

“We repeat the procedure until the expulsion is clean,” the doctor explained. “Then you get another shower.”

As he put the nozzle back in him, Hop Sing began to cry. He didn’t like having that thing up his butt, and the enema mix hurt him inside. The cramps tore at him, and he felt like he was going to be sick. By the time Knox was inserting the nozzle for his fourth enema, the third clean rinse, Hop Sing was crying and begging him stop.

“I never liked them either, when I was boy here,” Knox assured him, as he began filling Hop Sing again and massaging his tummy. On impulse, he tickled his ribs. Hop Sing squealed and jerked, but he did smile. Then he opened his eyes.

“You were a boy here?” Hop Sing asked. Knox nodded.

“My aunt and uncle sold me to Ben when I was ten,” Knox explained, looking melancholy as he shut off the water. “They didn’t want me when my folks died in a bus wreck. They kept me for a month or so, then some friend of my uncle came over one night with some literature. The next day, I was on a plane here.”

“My father sold me, too,” Hop Sing finally said the words aloud. “I guess being son number-three was why. I…I always told him I loved him, every night! I thought he loved me back?” The boy began to cry again as the import of what he’d just said hit him – and hit him hard. His stomach contracted, but it wasn’t from the enema. The plug in his butt hurt some, as did the straps he was straining against, but that pain was nothing compared to the pain he felt when he thought about his father.

“You remember this, little buddy,” Knox whispered in his ear, unaware that Ben Toeber was hearing every word of it, “No matter how bad you feel, or whatever some client does to you, there’s always someone here to listen to you. The hospital is always open, and if I’m not here, ask the computer via your collar to find me. Even when you think nobody on this island cares what happens to you, you remember that there’s always one person who does.” He then peeled one of his gloves off and put a hand on the boy’s cheek, wiping away his tears.

In the Admissions Office, Ben Toeber nodded at his 72” wall-mounted monitor. “He always was a sweet boy, Ronnie was,” he said, switching the video to watch some of the off-duty slave boys at play on the beach. They all seemed to be having a good time, splashing about, swimming, running in the hot sand in the bright sun, or just laying there getting even tanner. Only one blond boy with a green collar remained separate from the others, sitting all alone atop a large boulder with his arms around his knees and his chin resting on them. He was staring out across the water, looking lost. “You little wretch,” Ben muttered, shaking his head. “What the hell else am I SUPPOSED to do with you? Didn't Matti have that talk with you yet?! Damn!”

Fortunately for Hop Sing, his last rinse came out clear. Knox unstrapped him, but Hop Sing’s legs were too weak to hold him. Expecting it, Knox dried him off and smeared some lidocaine cream on the boy’s anus. He then hoisted him like a sack of potatoes, and carried him out and across the hall. Hop Sing didn’t struggle. He was too exhausted. He just laid his head on Knox’s shoulder and cried quietly.

The room across the hall was a small bedroom with no window, Hop Sing realized. Knox gently lowered him onto the bed, adjusted the pillow, then secured the boy’s hands and feet in padded cuffs. He then put a diaper on him, which should have mortified any boy Hop Sing’s age; Hop Sing was too exhausted to care, though. “Just to be safe,” he assured him, “I want you to take a nap. I’ll come get you after while, and don’t worry, I’ll lock the door, OK?”

“OK,” Hop Sing managed, as Knox covered and tucked him in. Then he kissed his cheek, turned out the lights, and left, locking the door.

The room was warm, pitch dark, and it smelled like flowers. The bed was soft, and the pillow form-fit to the boy’s head. It felt so good that he thought that he’d never want to get back up. He yawned, and thought he heard faint music playing.

Hop Sing was asleep before Knox even made it to his lab to start testing the samples. He knew that Hop Sing would sleep through the night, given the sedatives that had been in the last enema.

***

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” someone was saying. Hop Sing realized, as he opened his eyes, that someone was shaking him. He slowly focused, rubbed his eyes, and sat up. When he saw Dr. Ronnie Knox, he jerked and pulled his blanket back up as he realized where he was at. “No enemas today, I promise,” the doctor assured him, as the boy looked around the small bedroom. He didn’t even remember BEING put to bed. Then he smelled something. The doctor offered him what looked like a steaming mug of rich cocoa. Realizing that he was very hungry, Hop Sing took it and drank it down.

“That’s all you get for now, we have a few more tests to do,” the doctor told him, "You feel OK? You slept all night, you know."

"Really?" The boy wondered.

"You were pretty worn out," Knox nodded.

“I gotta pee!” Hop Sing announced, looking for the bathroom.

“Don’t,” Knox interrupted him, leading him back to the exam room. Hop Sing got up on the center table this time, holding his penis and fidgeting. “Should I have left the diaper on?” Knox asked, which got him a puzzled looked. Obviously, the boy didn’t remember it. “What we’re going to do now is a bladder integrity test,” he informed him, leaning him back and strapping him down again. Hop Sing sighed heavily.

“Another pee test, sir?”

“Sort of,” Knox agreed, putting his gloves on and pulling open a drawer under the table. “I have to scan your bladder while it’s full, but I also need some more urine to test, and a little more blood, too. Then you can get those shots out of the way. Do you know what a catheter is?”

“No? But I bet I won’t like it! …sir…,” he added.

“Very few boys do,” Knox nodded, pulling out a long tube that looked to Hop Sing like a clear garden hose. If he had to pee, he just KNEW where that tube was going to go! “This is a special catheter. It goes up your urethra – pee hole – and into your bladder. It drains the pee out of you into a bottle. Then I’ll rinse your bladder out, refill it, and scan it while the tube is clamped. OK?”

“Do we have to?” Hop Sing complained. “Will it FIT?”

“It will, and we do,” Knox agreed, lubing up the tube and placing it in a sterile tray. He then took the boy’s stiffening penis in his gloved hand and injected the tip with something. Hop Sing’s penis began to tingle inside, as it spread up inside him. “That’s to numb it a little. Some of the boys here, well, they have bladder control problems…after their surgery,” Knox conceded.

“You mean after they get their dicks cut off?” Hop asked in a dismal tone.

Knox nodded again. “Of course, some clients like that, but that’s not a story for now,” he said, waiting patiently for the boy’s erection to subside. “Hop, have you ever masturbated? Jerked off?”

Hop Sing blushed. “No.”

“The truth? Remember, the collar can act as a lie detector too.” Really, Knox didn’t think it could, but they’d told him that same story about his collar when he’d been a boy and he’d believed it. Hop Sing seemed to believe it too, by the look on his face and the way he touched his collar, as if he expected it to shock him, bite him, or something – were he to lie.

“No, sir, really. I…I play with it, when it’s hard, and it feels good, but all I do is feel like I have to pee, so I stop. Why?” The boy asked, sounding worried.

“So, you’ve never shot anything out, you know…cum?” Knox asked, wondering that the boy had never even jerked off for the first time yet, to climax, at least.

“No!” Hop Sing shook his head. He knew what that was all about, even if he couldn’t do it yet. He’d seen his eldest brother do it before, stroking his (relatively) large dick until he shot white cream all over, sometimes all the way off the bed and across the floor. Hop Sing knew that it contained sperm, which was what made babies if you ‘did it’ with a girl. After all, they’d had “the film” at school already, so the boy wasn’t totally ignorant. Few boys his age were.

“You’ve never, ever masturbated, cum, or shot?”

Hop Sing shook his head. “Sir, I really wanna pee!” Hop Sing reminded him. Knox nodded and gently inserted the tip of the catheter into the boy’s numbed penis, which had gone soft. He slid it on up until it touched the bladder sphincter. Hop Sing gasped.

“OK, pee!” Knox told him, and Hop Sing did that. He yelped as the catheter slid on into his bladder and Knox inflated the balloon, securing it. The bottle filled up fast, then the flow stopped.

“I still feel like I’m going!” Hop Sing wondered, staring at the tube coming out of his penis.

“That’s because the muscles you use to hold it are being held open inside of you, you have no bladder control now,” Knox told him. “Now, I’m going to fill you with a sterilizing rinse, which will tingle, but won’t hurt.” He then attached a bag of saline mix to another valve of the catheter and hung the bag, opening a clamp. Hop Sing felt warm inside as his bladder filled.

“I’m gonna bust!” He almost panicked, and Knox released the valve. Fizzing solution filled the new bottle, and he discarded it. He then hung another bag, filling the boy’s bladder again.

“This one you have to hold until I’m done scanning,” the doctor told him, as the bag emptied. Hop Sing felt like he’d never had to pee so bad in his life. He felt like he was peeing. He felt like he had to pee, but couldn’t. But he also felt like he was peeing and couldn’t stop. It was very confusing as he lay there while the doctor scanned him with one of those things that looked like what they’d used on his mom when she’d been pregnant with his little brother the last time. Finally, his bladder began to ache.

“Almost done,” Knox assured him.

“But I gotta pee so bad!” the boy protested, “Please?!” he begged.

“Just a bit longer,” Knox told him, putting up the scanner and studying the results, leaving Hop Sing restrained and miserable.

“Sir?!” He asked again, after the feelings inside of him became unbearable.

Finally, the doctor let him up detached the bottle, but didn’t pull the catheter. He led him to the shower again, where he finally released the balloon that was inside the boy’s bladder. The catheter slid out, and Hop Sing almost fainted in relief as his stream arced up and splashed the wall as he stood there trembling. “Take a shower, then I’ll examine you all over again. Then we can do the prostate and stress tests,” Knox advised him. “You weren’t busy for today, were you?” Hop Sing shook his head.

The prostate test was something that Hop Sing DID NOT enjoy. It involved Dr. Knox lubing up his anus again, and sliding his finger up inside and wiggling it around. Even though he’d just peed, Hop Sing felt like he was going to pee again. “If you do, just do it,” Knox told him, “Don’t hold back.” The whole time, Hop Sing crouched there on his knees on the table with a pounding erection and a red face. Knox wasn’t really hurting him, but the strange sensations were something that the boy didn’t understand at all. Finally, when he could stand it no longer, he cried out, “Please stop!”

But Knox didn’t stop. He kept massaging that spot deep inside of Hop Sing that made him tremble all over. It began to burn deep inside of him, and his tremors grew stronger. It felt like his head was getting light, and his anus hotter and hotter. Finally, and feeling ashamed of himself, he clenched his eyes shut and felt something leaking out of his penis. He was sure he’d just peed all over the table as his body spasmed several times. He took a deep breath, thinking he might pass out.

“Excellent, Hop! This is a really good sign,” Knox congratulated him, having stuck a specimen dish under the boy’s penis to capture a small amount of clear fluid. He then squeezed the softening member, getting another good sized drop out of it. “That’s not pee, it’s prostate juice, or what we call ‘ejaculate matter’. All that shivering and crying and panting you just did was your first prostatic orgasm. Did it feel good?”

“No, sir,” Hop Sing grumbled, “Is it over?” He whined, looking very ashamed and uncomfortable.

“It’s over. We’ll just test that for sperm content, chemical makeup, etcetera,” Knox said, applying the lidocaine cream to the boy’s sore anus. Pretty soon, he thought, and he won’t need or want that.

“Sperm?” Hop Sing asked.

“That stuff in the dish came out of your balls, and out of your prostate. That’s a gland inside you, like a ring of muscle around your bladder neck. It’s what makes boys shoot, you know?”

Hop Sing looked confused. “But I didn’t shoot, not like my brother?”

“No, I just squeezed all the juice out of it manually. Like I said, it’s a good sign that you had all those shakes and groans and dizzy feelings. Like I said, you had an orgasm. Some of the boys here can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Hop Sing asked, still not understanding it.

“Later,” Knox shook his head, cleaning the boy up so that he could attach wireless electrodes to his body. “Now you just go lay down over there, so I can monitor your post-climax vitals.”

They spent the rest of the day with Hop Sing hooked up to sensors, leads, an oxygen mask, and all sorts of other things. Fortunately for the boy, Knox took his temperature with an ear thermometer! He was also made to drink more water, and he was only allowed to pee when he had to beg for it. Knox told him it was to test his continence. Hop Sing said he already knew right from wrong. Knox laughed and explained that he had to know how well the boy’s bladder worked, or if he’d have to wear diapers. The boy was relieved to pass the test, even though Knox once refused to let him pee and made him have an accident so that he could time it and measure the volume. Walking around naked was bad enough, Hop Sing thought; walking around in a diaper would just be ‘the end’, as he put it.

Hop Sing also ran on a treadmill, lifted weights, did calisthenics, and then just sat and watched TV – all the while being monitored for vital signs, oxygen consumption, and all sorts of other things. By the time noon came, the boy was ravenous and very cranky about having been given so many shots when they were almost done.

“I think you’re healthy,” Knox informed the humiliated boy.

“What was all that, sir?” He asked, as Knox led him to the cafeteria for lunch.

“One shot was boosters, tetanus and such, and vaccinations. The usual shots. One of them was a very powerful anti-androgenic drug, to keep your body from producing male hormones. One was a beginning dose of anti-depressants, a ‘happy shot’, you can call it. And one of them was chock full of a cocktail of drugs to make you … well … horny, for lack of a better word. Aphrodisiacs, they’re called.” Hop Sing gaped at him.

“Why gimme a ‘horny shot’ if they’re gonna just cut if off later?” The boy asked, confused, “That’s mean!” He then noticed that he was hard again and tried to hide it.

“You’re not allowed to touch your genitals, Hop,” Knox reminded him. “If you do, you’ll be punished, that is, unless you’re with a trainer who tells you to. Someone else will explain all that, but if you can’t keep your hands off of yourself, we’ll have to put a chastity cage on your genitals so you CAN’T touch them, alright?”

“So if I get hard and I’m horny, I can’t DO nothin’ about it?” Hop Sing asked in wonder.

“It’s called frustration,” Knox informed him.

“Sir,” Hop Sing then asked, remembering something from the day before, “Didn’t you tell me you used to be a boy here?”

“You were very tired, I’m surprised you remember,” Knox smiled at him, patting his head, “Yes I was, and yes I did. Why?”

“So they gave you them shots too?”

Knox nodded.

“And you used to…you had to…let men DO things to you? Did they cut YOURS off too?” Hop Sing asked hurriedly. Then he looked away, knowing he was out of line and looking like he expected to be punished.

Knox didn’t seem to mind, though, and reassured him by holding his hand. Hop Sing smiled up at him, but it was a very weak smile. I hope you’ve got some more of those left in you, boy, he worried to himself. He drew him a bit closer. “Just remember, Hop, you’re a slave under contract. It’s OK to be friendly with me, you have my permission. People like Ben though, and the clients, get your utmost respect and manners. They can punish you for being insolent, so be more careful.”

“Yes, sir,” Hop Sing agreed.

“But to answer your questions, yes they did, and no, they only removed by balls and sac. I was one of those rare boys who were set aside for clients that liked castrated little boys with limp penises. What you get cut off, Hop, depends on how you’re booked, after you’re trained, and who all bids on you. But your trainer, once you get one, will explain all that to you later. I thought you wanted lunch?” He asked, changing the subject.

“Can we…can we…eat somewhere else?” Hop Sing asked, hearing the noise coming from the cafeteria ahead.

“No, you have to get used to being naked in public. Besides, every other boy in there is naked, too,” Knox assured him. Hop Sing nodded as his appetite won out over his modesty.

They arrived in the cafeteria, which was full of (mostly neutered) rowdy, naked boys of all races. The air smelled of food – and good food, at that. It wasn’t the smell of school cafeteria food, and Hop Sing’s mouth watered. After all, he’d not been fed since before his enema session. All concerns about being naked and/or erect left his head at once. Then someone noticed the doctor bringing him in.

“New gold-boy!” Somebody yelled, as Hop Sing found himself, standing there with an erection and stark naked, in front of at least a hundred boys in collars of varying colors all trying to greet him at once.

Only one smaller boy in a green collar sat all alone at the far end of the room, rubbing a hand over his blond hair and just picking at his food. He was a beautiful boy, probably the most beautiful in the room. But there was something, almost like a black cloud hovering over his head (so to speak) that was repulsive. One could sense it. Perhaps that was why no one wanted to sit with him.

Knox excused himself while Hop Sing was swept away with the exuberant crowd to get his lunch and – hopefully – make some new friends to ease his situation.

“Sander, you know the rules, you have to eat,” Knox told the boy, who’d obviously been losing weight.

Sander didn’t even look up at him. “Yes, sir,” he said automatically.

Knox put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “It’s fresh lemon-peppered butterfly shrimp,” Knox pointed out, sniffing. “And baked red potato with yellow squash and sour cream and…why there’s enough calories on this plate to choke a mule! How can you NOT eat that? You know the rules, if you don’t eat, I’ll have to force-feed you.”

“Yes, sir,” the boy replied automatically, yet again.

“Someone hurt you, a client?” Knox asked, concerned, “Someone get rough?” He sat down across from Sander, but the boy ignored him.

While he knew that Sander had been having problems recently, he still didn’t know why. The boy hadn’t come to see him, and getting information, the island psychologist had told him, was like pulling eye teeth. “Clam-boy,” the shrink had nicknamed Sander, when he’d come to warn Knox that the boy was off his feed and generally being a little asshole.

“No, sir,” Sander said, sounding like a robot as he shoved his plate away.

“Well, if you’re not going to eat that, I am,” Knox informed him, taking Sander’s plate. “Then you can come to my office where I WILL feed you out of a tube. You’ll be punished if you stray from your diet plan, you know. At least drink your milk, some cow went to a lot of trouble for that, you know.”

“Yes, sir,” Sander replied in the same monotone, but he didn’t drink his milk.

Knox looked up between bites to see Hop Sing shoveling food into his mouth and trying to talk at the same time. He was surrounded by a group of boys, most of them in green and yellow collars, but a few red ones, and seemed to be getting on well. Given the mix of boys, at least from the chest up as they sat, Hop Sing blended in almost perfectly. Knox noted that he did look a bit nervous, though.

“So much for introduction into the population,” Knox mumbled.

“Sir?” Sander asked, in that same flat voice, his face blank.

“Never mind,” Knox sighed.