I had, in fact, that very morning freely chosen a life of incarceration, pain, and punishment. The professor of course knew this, for He was now my Master. My Introductory Pharmacology professor had become my Owner.

The moment had come quickly and unexpectedly. I was in the first few weeks of my first semester at the medical school. After living with my parents while attending the state college in my home town, I was ready to be living alone and on my own for the first time. Still, I hadn’t developed any close friendships and my sexuality remained in question. I had dated a few girls over the years, but I increasingly realized that I was gay. There had been some fooling around with a couple of boys, but I had never gone beyond jacking a dude off. I was in good shape, with a smooth, well-defined body and innocent good looks. I thought I was a catch, even if I hadn’t found anyone who agreed.

I was attracted to the professor from the first time He walked into His class. He was a youngish instructor, especially for a doctor, perhaps in His middle 30’s. Seeing Him in class the first few sessions, I noticed a well-developed torso hidden behind the corduroy jacket and thick legs underneath the khaki pants. His hands were strong and callused and covered in chalk dust. He had buzz cut blonde hair; an occasional stubble of a beard; a deep, authoritative voice; and the most beautiful, piercing grey eyes I had ever seen.

Emboldened by being away from my parents’ home for the first time, I decided to visit Him during office hours. I was drawn to Him like a moth to a glowing light. The hallway to His office was cool and quiet. I knocked on the door. “No need to knock” was the immediate reply from inside.

As I entered the office, He was leaning back in His chair, apparently deep in thought. His face brightened noticeably when He saw me. “Well, Mister S----, come in, sit down.”

“Thank You, Doctor,” I said, as I dropped my gym bag on the floor and sat in the only chair not covered in books or paper. “I hope I’ve come at a good time.”

“Of course. What can I do for you?” He had on a thin, tight polo shirt that accentuated His solid pecs. There was a glimpse of smooth chest between the opened buttons of the shirt. His arms were strong and thick, His forearms covered with a thin coat of hair. His eyes were even more penetrating up close.

I tried to focus on my carefully prepared questions, not on Him. “I was wondering, Sir, if I, ahm…”

He smiled at me. “Relax, son, it’s pharmacy, not nuclear physics.” He smiled and tried to comfort me, “I notice you’re always wearing those big basketball shorts. Will be too cold soon, won’t it?”

He noticed me? “Uh, I usually play basketball at lunchtime, before your class, but you’re right, it is getting too cold. Still, I like the cool on my legs, so I might stick it out for a while.” I smiled at Him, and He smiled back. “What about you? You must work out?”

“Oh sure, every evening. I have a gym at home, so there’s never a crowd.”

“Sweet,” I said.

He looked into me for the first time. My Heart stopped.

“It is indeed. So what can I Help you with?”

We chatted for a few minutes: I asked stupid first year questions and He gave me well-reasoned, professorial responses in return. There was no impropriety, only an instructor and His student late on a sunny afternoon.

I got up to leave and thanked Him for His time, but then He surprised me. “So if you don’t have plans for tonight, you can join me for a work out. I see you have your gym bag with you. It’s not as complete as the gym on campus, so we might have to improvise. On the other hand, there’s no waiting for a machine. I just started teaching here this semester, so I’m short a workout partner.”

“Sure,” I heard myself agreeing immediately. “How do I get to your place?”

“Well, can you hang out for a few minutes? I have to run some paper up to the department office. Why don’t you wait downstairs in the study room? You can ride with me and then take the bus or walk back to campus later.”

An hour later, we were at the gym in His basement. He had changed into some workout shorts, a tank top, and sneakers, revealing a body even better than I had imagined.

I admit we never got beyond some bench presses. He stood over me to spot me (“step it up, boy!”), and I could look straight up the legs of His shorts. As I lifted the bar, I felt my dick growing erect. There was no hiding it.

“Somebody’s up,” He said, looking at my bulge. Staring up into His shorts, I could tell He was, too. He took control immediately. Before long, He had me laying on my belly and holding on to the bench, massaging my asshole with His big dick. I wanted Him so bad I could hardly stand it.

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you? You want me inside of you.”

“Yes, please!” I stammered.

“OK, but I want you to concentrate on your ass; I want you to focus on me and my dick, not on yours. You will enjoy this pleasure more than anything you have ever experienced, but you cannot touch your dick, understand?” Without waiting for my response, He continued, “I will teach you how.”

He climbed off of me and knelt down behind me. Touching my virgin asshole, He slowly started massaging.

“Sweet ass,” He said, slowly rubbing His fingers around my hole. “Keep your hands on the bench, where I can see them. Point your ass a little more into the air.” I felt Him spit on the hole and slowly lick it. I had never imagined a man would do this to another man or how good it could feel. I arched my back in pleasure, as He inserted His tongue inside me. After a few minutes, He got up, walked to a cabinet, pulled out a bottle of what I guessed was lube and returned to my upturned ass.

“Excellent. For the next few minutes, at least, you are only a hole. Every bit of your being will concentrate on this.” He continued rubbing, then squirted out a few drops of lube. A finger slid into my hole. “You are smooth and warm inside, very nice, just like a hole should be. Now I want you to squeeze my finger. Squeeze like you have never squeezed before. Squeeze like you are trying to suck my finger into your body.”

“Excellent,” He said as I clamped on His finger. “Keep squeezing. Yes. Roll your hips a bit if you have to. Yes. Draw my finger into you. Arch your back. Excellent.”

He pushed a thumb in, replaced it with His forefinger, then pushed both in together. I kept squeezing. I felt Him pinching my prostate gland inside.

“You feel that?” He asked, “That’s your boy clit.” He rubbed it hard with His thumb and pinched some more. A warm feeling grew inside me as I began to moan. He kept rubbing my hole, and fingering and pinching my “clit”.

“Like a woman that cums with her clit, you will have to learn to cum with your boy clit. You are only a hole to be filled. Only a hole,” He said as He rubbed. “Excellent, boy.” As He said this, I realized that I had never wanted a man so much before. I really was a hole, waiting to be filled. I also noticed, in a short second when I let my attention lapse, that my dick was completely soft. I was focusing so much on my ass that I had forgotten about my dick, just like He said.

He placed the tip of His dick at the edge of my hole and leaned into me. “You want me inside you, don’t you, boy?” He asked.

“Oh, yes!” I exclaimed.

“What are you?” He asked.

“It is a hole,” I whispered.

“Yes, you’re only a hole, a hole that isn’t complete until I’m inside you. The point of the hole is to be filled by me. The point of the hole is to pleasure me. Understand, boy?”

“Yes,” I answered meekly, transfixed by His hypnotic voice.

With one quick, painful push, He slid His thick dick cleanly into my moist hole. I felt His pubic hairs brush against my cheeks and felt His loose, heavy balls touch mine. “Concentrate boy. Concentrate on the hole. Concentrate on how I fill you. Ignore the pain, concentrate on my pleasure. A hole is only to be filled. Bring me pleasure, boy, exist for my pleasure.” I took a deep breath and slowly clamped down on His rod inside me. The pain slowly subsided, leaving the feeling of being filled.

“Yes, excellent. Squeeze. Make the hole as tight as it can get. Make me feel good.” He started slowly fucking me while I squeezed. He laid all His weight on top of me and Held my wrists to the legs of the bench.

I squeezed and He fucked. I had never felt so full, or fulfilled. My mind floated away, my entire being focused on pleasuring the penis inside me. The pace of His fucking increased. His let out short breaths on my neck. Then, His entire body tensed. He rammed His rod into me as far as it would go and held it there. “Take it!” He said. It hit me like a jolt of electricity: my ass spasmed along with His dick. I suddenly was aware of His semen spewing into me; it felt moist and loosened my hole around Him. I rolled my hips reflexively, milking every drop of semen out of His dick still throbbing inside me.

Slowly, He relaxed. He kissed the back of my neck, gave me one or two more thrusts, and slowly pulled out.

“Only a hole. Squeeze. Suck all of my cum inside. It’s my gift for you.”

He rose. He rubbed my hole again and slid His forefinger inside, massaging my prostate with His semen. “What a sweet ass. I’m swimming inside your hole right now. I love feeling my cum inside a boy’s ass.”

I was still breathless and excited. I realized my dick was still soft beneath me.

“Hold it all in. You see, being a hole is better for you. Kneel down for me.”

I squeezed my still-twitching hole, rolled off the bench, and knelt before Him. He Held my jaw with His thick hand and told me to open. I opened my mouth, waiting for His softening penis.

“Clean me off, boy,” He said. “Lick it all off.”

I took His dick in my mouth, sucking off the lube and cum mixed with my mucus and shit. I had never been so completely submissive to a man, nor so content. At that moment, I wanted to please Him more than anything I had ever wanted.

“Nice,” He said as He withdrew His clean penis from my mouth. “You make an excellent hole. I wouldn’t ordinarily ask, but you enjoyed it too, yes?”

I was still kneeling before Him. I looked up the body of the man I would worship. “It was the best moment of my life,” I admitted.

“Fantastic,” He said. “Then it is settled. You really are only a hole. Open your mouth again.” He pushed His softening penis into my open mouth. “Now close. Let it slide to the back of your throat. I will teach how to be another kind of hole. Surrender to me. Let my piss flow down your throat. Do not try to suck or swallow or hold it in your mouth. Relax, let it flow into you. Now take a deep breath and hold it.”

I felt the warm stream of His urine hit the back of my throat. I did as He said, letting His waste flow down my throat. The stream slowed and stopped. “Now, suck the last drops out. Excellent. You are a very good hole, a very fast learner.”

And so I spent the next two weeks learning what it meant to be His hole. I stayed with Him every night, walking to His house after my last class and staying until morning. We’d start in the basement workout room and move to the spare room next to it, which He soon made His play room. It was an easy transition from His submissive fuck hole to constant victim of His sadistic urges, and He pushed me through the door quickly. I was bound or caged constantly. He made it clear that my genitals disgusted Him, and that the point of my existence was to be His hole.

I was fucked wide open, filled with His semen and plugged. He sprayed water up my ass to keep me clean for Him. He pissed down my throat. My tongue cleaned His anus. He’d whip and paddle my ass and back and legs. He completely ignored my dick, and I learned to do so, too. It wasn’t even an object of torture; it’s as if it didn’t exist. I didn’t touch my dick or cum, and while I was hardly ever even hard, I nonetheless was in a constant state of arousal. I wanted Him to fill the hole all the time.

He’d send me away in the morning by plugging my cum-filled ass and locking my penis into a chastity device. The meaning of my life became making Him happy.

So it was a relief, really, when He made the announcement. I was strung up in His basement, completely helpless: my arms roped to the ceiling, my ankles bolted to the floor. My ass was blistered and bleeding, my eyes taped shut, my mouth held open by wire clips. “You are to become My slave. You will no longer be human or male. It’s a bit of a shame, really, that you will never be a doctor. You might have made a good one. But, no matter: you will spend your life in service to Me, bringing Me pleasure. If you assent, it will be the last decision you ever make. If you do not wish to accept your destiny, I will release you now, you can dress and leave. You will receive an A in Introductory Pharmacology, but will not be in My presence ever again.”

There was no decision to make, really. I needed Him, needed to be His hole.

He loosened the ropes holding my arms, lowering me to my knees. He stood in front of me, letting His erect penis touch my lips. He removed the wire clips from my mouth. As I licked my lips, He started to chuckle. “Slaves do not talk,” He said. “If you are My slave, suck me.”

I immediately took His penis in my mouth and slid all eight, thick inches down my throat. I sucked as completely and desperately as I ever could. I wanted there to be no mistake: I wanted to be His property.

“That’s right, slave. You’re mine now. It’s really mine now.” He held the back of my head to His groin as He pulsed His load down my throat. I sucked every drop He had to give before I felt Him relaxing.

He pulled off the tape from my eyes and looked squarely into me with His piercing grey eyes.

“I have plans for you, slave. But first we have to get you through the next day. Of course, you will stay tonight and for the rest of your life in My house. Tomorrow, I will instruct you on your first day.”

The next morning, He prepared me for the day. He pushed the plug into my ass, placed a metal cup above my genitals, and pulled on a pair of thick, tight leather shorts. Tight straps held it all in place and were locked by a small padlock. It was far more restrictive than His previous chastity locks. “Remember, slave, I own your body. You cannot urinate or defecate without my permission. Today, I do not permit you to do so.” He had me step into the jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers I had worn the last night.

“You will talk to no one except as I am about to direct. I will drop you near your apartment. Change into a pair of workout shorts, a clean T-shirt, a ball cap, and flip flops. You will not shower or wash yourself. You will eat nothing, but you can have some water as you desire. Recall that you will not be allowed to urinate until this evening, so drink wisely. You will pack one small duffel bag. Inside, place a clean pair of jeans, a pair of slacks, three T-shirts, a button down shirt, three pair of black socks, and the sneakers you are wearing. Pack your toothbrush. Add in your wallet, your passport, and any identification papers. All of the rest of your belongings place into garbage bags and drop them into the dumpster. You won’t need any other clothes, any other belongings. No books, no electronics. Leave your key in the apartment and leave. Any questions?”

“No, Sir.”

“Good. You will walk to the Greyhound bus station. Buy a one-way ticket to New York City on the bus that leaves tonight. Pay with your credit card. Spend a minute in the station looking around, and then walk out confidently.”

He looked at the confused look on my face. “You’re not getting on the bus, just buying a ticket to throw them off. Walk to campus in time to sit in my 1:15 Pharma class. You will be hungry, but you are not to eat. Sit in the back row. Slip off your flip flops and subtly put your feet on the chair in front of you so that I can see them. We will not communicate or converse, you will not raise your hand, and I will not call on you.

“After class, you will walk to the Coffee Shop at 6th and Elm Street. You will not go in. You will stand by the bike rack in the back on the 6th Street side. At 3:15, I will pull up at the curb. You will get in quickly into the back seat and lay down. While we’re driving, remove your shorts and shirt. I will drive you home. Is that all entirely clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

At 3:16 I was laying in His car, hungry, thirsty, and dirty. I had to pee. The butt plug hurt. I smelled bad. Still, I was His property.

He led me to the dungeon and told me to remove all of my clothes. He unlocked and removed the shorts and straps, and tied my wrists to the ceiling. Still fully clothed, he unwound the hose and sprayed cold water over me to wash me down. Turning off the water, He held a paddle in His hand and walked around me. He spoke as I shivered and dripped dry.

“As you are now my slave,” He began, “there are rules. I am your Alpha and Omega, your God and Master. You will learn to worship Me and serve Me however I direct or desire, immediately, joyfully, faithfully. You will not speak unless I direct you to do so. You will refer to Me in both thought and speech as “Master”. The person once known as J---- S---- no longer exists. You are now simply ‘hole’. You are not human. You do not feel pleasure or pain. You do not think, act, or speak on your own. You have nothing, own nothing, are nothing. You exist only for Me and My pleasure.

“You may not refer to yourself in thought or speech as I or me, but only as ‘it’ or ‘the hole’ or ‘the slave’. For example, if I ask you if your feet hurt, you would reply, ‘Master, it does not feel pain.’

“Do you understand?”

“Master,” I paused. It paused. “it understands.”

“Excellent. Until I determine otherwise, you will not leave this basement. You will urinate in the floor drain, but only when I explicitly allow it. You are already familiar with that. Do you have to pee now?”

“Master, it does.”

As the slave answered, He landed a blow to its ass.

“You have no desire and no needs,” He yelled out, “other than to serve and pleasure your Master. So, do you have to pee now?”

“Master, it….will pee if You desire.”

“See, the hole can learn. There will be many more rules. Your mind will be transformed. You are not permitted access to books, magazines, recorded music, telephones or the internet. No one will contact you, and you will contact no one. You have no friends and no family. I am your entire world. Just as you have learned to be a hole, to pleasure me as a hole without considering yourself, you will learn to be a slave and to act and think only of me. You will be happy and fulfilled.

“Now, for physical transformations…” He grabbed the slave’s genitals and held them. “Is there any reason I should keep these attached to my slave?”

“Master,” I hesitated, “the worthless genitals attached to the hole are Your property to dispose however You desire.”

“Indeed.” He paused. “You will make me very happy, slave. Piss into the drain.”

I loosed a long-delayed stream, aiming as best I could at the drain, but splashing onto my feet and legs.

“Remember how that felt, slave? the liquid through your penis? the way you could aim your flow? Remember how it felt to cum, to shoot man-juice out of you dick? Never again, faggot. Never again. Let us make you into the hole you are meant to be.”

He untied me from the ceiling hooks and wordlessly pointed at the exam table in the corner of the room. He pushed me down on my back, tied my wrists at my side and wrapped straps around my torso. He wound more straps around my legs, pulled them open, and attached them to the bench. He taped my eyes closed, gagged my mouth, plugged my ears, and rubbed a menthol cream under my nose. I was immobilized and deprived of any senses.

I felt a cool cream being rubbed on my groin, and then the slow, steady strokes of a razor. There was a splash of water, and then the feeling of it being dried with a towel. I felt even more exposed to what I somehow knew was coming. Another liquid, undoubtedly an antiseptic of some kind, was squirted onto my groin and genitals, then carefully rubbed with what felt like a cotton ball. The liquid dried, and then I felt a series of pin pricks around the groin. I felt the area go numb. There were more pricks, this time painless but much deeper, some directly into my penis and scrotum.

There was pressure and a quick cut into the urethra, below my balls, as He cut a new opening for piss. I felt a tube being inserted and realized I was being catheterized; there was no pain as the tube pushed into my bladder, only an odd pressure and then release, as urine flowed into the tube.

There was more cutting, down the center of the scrotum. He pulled it open, released the testes and exposed them to the air. I felt the unfamiliar coolness on them. He massaged them gently with His rubber gloved fingers. I felt a series of clamps being applied to the cords that held the testes, two quick snips, and some ties and stitches. He released the clamps and pushed the tied cords back into me. I was a eunuch!

There was more cutting, deeper this time. I felt the length of my penis being pulled away from my body, including the part usually hidden under the balls. There were more clamps, more snips, more stitches. Finally, I felt the skin being pulled over the wound, excess skin being trimmed away, and a long series of stitches.

My master had completely nullified me, truly making me into a hole. I would feel sexual pleasure and desire only from my Master, only through Him. I felt an exhilarating sense of release. Achingly, I longed for Him to fill me.

I felt thick gauze bandages being applied and taped down. I would doubtless be healing for weeks. I felt Him drop His wet rubber gloves on my abdomen. He removed the ball gag, inserted two tablets in my mouth and closed it. I swallowed hard. The gag was replaced.

I felt His fingers at my hole. My legs were still spread wide open. He slipped His thumb and forefinger into me, massaging the archaic prostate; now it truly was my clit. Though still numb, I felt the pressure, and ached for Him. He removed His fingers, inserted His penis, and began to fuck me. Holding my hips, He drove Himself into me. He was obviously aroused by the reality of nullifying me. He fucked me slowly, almost lovingly, touching my nipples and rubbing my armpits. I tightened around His shaft, deliriously happy to be blessed as the receptacle of His manhood. He plunged into me as deep as He ever had. Freed of the tyranny of penis and testes, I was able to focus on Him and His pleasure. Even through the ear plugs, I Heard Him moan as He ejaculated. My ass spasmed in pleasure as waves of energy lapped over me.

I squeezed tightly as He withdrew, determined to suck all of His semen into me, to absorb all that He would give me.

I felt Him pull away from me. He touched my face, held it in the palm of His hands, and released. I was left bound and senseless on the table, my groin a mass of bandages where genitals were once attached, my ass filled with His semen.

Weeks passed. My wound healed, leaving me with a tiny scar through a smooth groin. While sexless, I was certainly not unsexed. He used my ass and mouth constantly to pleasure him.

Master took complete control over my mind and body. Twice daily, He fed me a large glass of watery gruel. “It’s My special concoction,” He said, “It’s all the nutrition you need, but it has the unusual feature of being completely absorbed by your digestive system.” Once a week, He added a me a large bowl of greens, vegetables, and berries. Eighteen hours later, a high enema would clean my rectum again for another week.

He injected me with drugs, fed me pills and potions. He didn’t tell me what he was doing or why. I simply obeyed. Despite losing my balls, I grew more muscular and defined. He pushed me in the gym, to be sure, but was spiking me with testosterone, too. If he wanted me sensitive or emotional, a different set of hormones would be injected. Depending on the drug, my mind might be focused and crisp or lost in a hallucinogenic fog. I was a mere machine: he controlled the inputs and outputs.

A constant stream of his semen went up my ass. I was not allowed to lose a drop, ever. What went into my ass stayed in my body. I requested to sleep on my back with a pillow under my ass so that the semen would run into me more easily. Master agreed, and placed a large, fluffy pad in my cage. He would check the pillow and my hole constantly; any signs of leakage was punished.

When directed, I pissed through the hole that he cut between my legs. I would squat with my legs spread wide above the floor drain and direct the flow as best as I could. From the beginning, I struggled to allow piss to flow while also holding in the semen in my ass. After I pissed, Master would inspect my hole—he quickly took to calling it my cunt—and if I had leaked any cum, I was immediately and severely punished. Disgusted by my inability to perform this simple task, Master performed another surgery.

Again I was immobilized, stripped of senses, anesthetized, disinfected and catheterized. Again I was cut open, modified, bandage and fucked. This time, while I knew he was tinkering with my piss hole, I had no idea what was happening.

Master woke me after the surgery, unbound me, and told me to sit up on the table. He spread my legs wide and looked under the bandage. A smile came to His face.

“Since you couldn’t control this, I have taken control myself,” He said. “I first removed the lower portion of your bladder and remaining urethra. If I didn’t replace it with something else, there would be a constant drip from your piss slit, essentially directly from the kidneys. That would be annoying and probably deadly over time. But I did replace it, with a beautiful synthetic tube that ends with this!”

He peeled away the bandage. Under the swollen tissue, in place of a piss slit, was a small pink plug that looked like a pencil eraser, only a bit smaller. In the center was a tiny key hole.

“When I insert and turn the key,” He announced, proudly producing a tiny metal key, “the valve opens and the piss will drain. When I close the valve, like now, the piss is stored safely inside. Your slit is completely under my mechanical control, allowing you to keep your cunt clenched while your piss drains. You can only drain piss from you when I unlock the valve. When I do so, it will flow out of you without any effort on your part. It is no longer any of your concern.”

I gasped at this modification. My feeling for my Master reached a new peak. I was completely, utterly His. With this change, He couldn’t be away from me for more than a few hours or I would feel His absence. At that moment, He truly became God to me. “Oh, Master,” I said, my eyes filling with tears, “You have shown the slave the truth, that freedom and incarceration, pleasure and pain, reward and punishment, all mean nothing. The meaning of its life is You and Your desire. Thank You Master.”