The Helmet of Pure Thought

By MC Fogel ©2001

"Go to your room boy and wait there, and keep your school clothes on," were the only words his Mum said on his return from school.

So Spencer waited in his room in the East End London flat he shared with his Mum, Dad and baby brother. Fortunately the two-year-old he shared the room with was missing.

The damn device trapping his cock and balls overshadowed the bliss of quiet. The Anti-Masturbatory 02 anti-erection ring gave him a nasty five-second electric jolt every time he got an erection, and the freaking thing couldn’t tell the difference between a real stiffie and a pisser.

The teen hated not being able to wank or even pleasure his gorgeous best mate Timmy, it being impossible to even wank the little stud without getting hard much less anything more.

Worse though was the constant mortification he experienced every school day when he changed for PE in front of his classmates. And the mental effort it took not to get hard seeing all that naked boy flesh.

"Shit," he blurted as his fourteen-year-old manhood began to rise. He dug his teeth into lip and stifled the scream when the jolt shook him.

The shock came and it and the erection left. Spencer wondered if he would ever cum again.

He ran his gentle, slender fingers through his strawberry blond hair and began crying.

His family belonged to an extremely traditional conservative Catholic church. All sexual activity outside of marriage was a mortal sin. Even then it was only permitted for the sole purpose of procreation.

The crying boy wondered how many times he’d heard that in church and from his parents.

Not only had both his parents been virgins on their wedding day they rushed to confession when they’d briefly held hands when she’d accepted his proposal.

They raised their eldest son with the same morals. But Abraham was born when Spencer was twelve, distracting them as the boy entered puberty, coming to grips with the biggest sin of all. His homosexuality.

So Spencer learned the ways of the flesh the way most boys do, including the mortal sin of masturbation.

Somehow his folks discovered his self-abuse. After spanking Spencer’s bare bum with his own trainers they dragged the sobbing boy down to Father Daniel.

By the time the elderly priest was done Spencer anticipated his imminent spontaneous combustion and transportation to the ninth circle of hell for all eternity.

The sermon held until his next trip to Timmy’s home the next week. The sight of his naked boyfriend broke all resolve. That evening he had one last orgasm, and it was a nocturnal emission at that.

Mum found the evidence while he was at breakfast. Dad and he raced at her screaming leaving a bawling baby in their wake. Mum pointed at the stain.

"Dad, I didn’t do it. I swear it was a wet dream."

His father slapped him on both cheeks. "This shows the evil in your soul. Dear we prayed it wouldn’t come to this but get the box," his father said.

"Yes Dear."

"Boy you will never ejaculate again until you’re married. Now go take a shower and try to wash the evidence of your sins away. I will be in there shortly to make sure you do nothing evil."

"Dad, please. It was an accident. I didn’t." Another set of stinging slaps.

"Just do what you’re told and I don’t want to hear a word from you ever again without permission."

Once washed and dried he marched naked to his room. His mother sat holding Abraham on her lap so he could bare witness.

"Abraham, your brother has sinned and though he’s confessed and tried he can’t keep from sinning. So we are going to help him. And be warned that if you sin you will have your own punishment," father said.

"I won’t sin Daddy, I don’t want to die and go to hell like Spen," the little boy said.

"Spencer’s not going to die dear. He’s just going to have to wear what’s in that box until his wife takes it off on their wedding day," their Mum said.

Spencer’s knees buckled and he hit the floor hard. Father yanked him back up by the hair and threw him on the bed.

"Lie on your back boy then stretch your sinning arms and legs out as far as you can."

The terrified teen trembled as he complied. In seconds his father had him tied spread-eagled and gagged.

"That’s so you don’t hurt yourself as you get used to your punishment."

Spencer’s eyes followed his father to the box on his dresser. Any inch that wasn’t already filled with panic succumbed. Tears flowed from bug eyes as he violently shook his head.

His father slapped him twice on each cheek. "It’s bad enough you’re a helpless hopeless sinner but in God and Jesus’ name accept your fate as a man."

When he saw the red cylinder Spencer pissed himself causing his newly potty trained brother to burst out laughing.

"Son, get a towel and clean the boy up. God does not approve of joy at the sight of another’s torment."

They waited in silence till the job was done.

As soon as Abraham was back on his mother’s lap their father took hold of Spencer’s penis and fed it and then his gonads into the tube until just the teen’s piss slit was sticking out of the other end. The locks snapped into place and the boy knew he was doomed.

"This is a training device as much as a punishment. Every time you have an erection you will receive a five second electric shock. The only way you can remove it is by cutting your penis and testicles off."

With that Spencer’s parents and brother walked out, shutting the light behind them.

That had been two months of hell ago. He’d begged at first but the only result was his father whipping his naked back and bums until he was shocked at least twice.

Since then he’d remained silent at home. Eating as quickly as possible and then back to his room. Even going to bed with the baby, anything to avoid spending time with his parents.

He looked at the calendar over his desk. "One year, ten months and fourteen days and I’ll be sixteen. I have to then to find a girl to marry me on my birthday and release me. I’ll leave school and here forever." He turned to the crucifix over his bed and crossed himself.

Finally he heard the front door close.

"It came dear. I pray this works," Mom said.

"So do I dear."

"Abraham?"

"Fell asleep in the car and never felt the shot. He’s in the mail to Dr Pew on St. Egdum," Dad said.

"It’s a shame, but Father Daniel said this was the only way he won’t follow the boy’s evil ways."

"When he returns by post next month he’ll be gelded. Our true son will live a life free from sin and temptation. He’ll thank God for this dear," Dad said.

Shock swept through Spencer. Father Daniel regularly promoted Dr. Pew’s castration services as a way to guarantee a boy’s life long purity.

Several of his Sunday school mates or their younger brothers had been mailed to the isolated island, castrated and mailed back.

John Paul Jr.’s brother died en route from starvation and thirst because his parents didn’t spend the money on airfreight. Had his?

Hearing their footsteps the frightened fourteen-year-old sat straight, wiped tears from his eyes and thanked God and Jesus he was too old to be castrated.

The door opened and father lead the way carrying a large white box.

Spencer needed to ask if what he’d guessed was true but he didn’t need a whipping on top of whatever punishment was about to start.

"Hands behind your back boy," his father snapped. And as soon as they were he slapped handcuffs on.

Spencer yelped from the impact and surprise but all he got were two sets of slaps. His father removed a black helmet with visor from the box and held it in front of his son’s eyes.

"This is the helmet of pure thoughts. It achieves its divine purpose by showing pictures on the visor. These evil, sinful pictures will cause multiple erections and the shocks that come with them. But over time you won’t react at all and when we are sure we can remove the anti-erection ring."

Spencer smiled.

"You’re handcuffed to the chair for your physical and spiritual safety. The first session will last one hour."

Spencer nodded. He doubted he’d ever prove his purity to his parents, and especially to old Father Daniel.

"Try hard, we so want our son back," his Mum said.

Spencer closed his eyes so they wouldn’t see the venom he felt for them. One-way or other he’d be out of there as soon as he could.

He felt the helmet slide over his ears and opened his eyes as his father snapped the chin strap in place then slid the visor over his eyes.

The teen turned toward the flick of the toggle switch and noticed the visor begin to glow as the room light went out and the door closed.

Spencer started to laugh but bit his lip. The first pictures were of clothed young women, pretty granted but of no interested to the gay teen. They slowly stripped and played with their bodies.

When naked hunks entered the show he had an erection and received what seemed to be a longer shock than usual but when they started having straight sex the erections didn’t return.

"This is going to be easy," Spencer whispered. "I’ll have this thing off and be back in Timmy’s arms by the end of school." This thought brought an erection and shock.

Time passed and he began to wonder how much longer when the final virtual couple climaxed. The screen cleared and he thought he’d made it.

Then they appeared and the erection was instantaneous. The shock ended it but another woody popped into place.

When they started frolicking with each other it was too much for the frustrated gay youth and his cock became harder than it’d ever been and stayed that way through shock after shock.

Spencer felt heat building up around his crotch and was powerless to do anything about it.

When two of the creatures hugged and kissed it was too much. Pleasure and joy swept through him, feelings he thought he’d never feel again. Feelings the shocks and constraining tube couldn’t stop or contain. Spencer orgasmed. Shooting a pent up load larger than any previously in his young life. It shot out with such force that some shot out of the leg opening of his school shots and coated his thigh and dripping off his knee and down his leg

It would be his last.

The circuitry of the anti-erection device shorted out setting his heated school shorts ablaze.

The powerful orgasm left the bound boy senseless, unable to realize what was happening to himself and call for help. The flames spread and quickly sent his skin on fire.

The pain finally reached his mind and he screamed for help when he saw and felt the flames and smoke.

When his parents finally came in his entire crotch was engulfed in flames. And yet little boy cherubs, baby angels flickered in the helmet’s visor.

His parents got the fire out and took the helmet off. Then his father sent Mum to call Father Daniel for advice while he looked at the charred remains of his eldest son’s manhood. Knowing he would never be a grandfather.

"Thank you God who sent this sign that this boy was beyond redemption by removing his ability to procreate."

Spencer looked up at his father, spat and rolled onto the floor. Taking the chair with him, since his father hadn’t bothered to loosen the handcuffs.

He stayed like that, refusing to scream despite the pain and smell of his own charred flesh until Father Daniel showed up with a man who’d obviously been drinking.

Father Daniel looked down at him and turned to the boy’s silent parents. "Sad, but this does happen when the Lord knows the boy is beyond redemption. This is Dr. Fakir who I'm sure you recognize from church."

The man waved a hand.

"He’s a surgeon we call on in cases like this."

"He’s drunk," Mum said.

"I wasn’t expecting to work tonight," the doctor slurred. "Tell you what, strip the boy, tie him down on a hard table with his legs spread and then wash the area the best you can. If he starts screaming clobber him since I don’t have any painkillers. While you’re doing that I’ll use his bed and take a nap. Wake me in an hour."

With that the doctor took his jacket off, lay down on Spencer’s bed and started snoring.

"Best make it two hours, won’t make any difference to the boy anyway. Besides, it’s going to be morning before transport will arrive."

"You’re going to take him to hospital?" father said.

The priest shook his graying head and wheezed. "No, we have send him to the place where we train our sect’s priests and send troubled youth. In all likelihood you’ll never see him again."

Spencer’s father shrugged. "Don’t want a sinner around anyway, especially contaminating Abraham once he returns pure in body."

"Amen," Father Daniel said. "Now let’s prepare the boy."

Spencer tried running when the handcuffs were removed but the pain and a flurry of punches from his father to his gut stopped him cold. His father dragged him by the hair and strapped him to the dining room table.

Mum brought a bucket of warm water and soaped the area down.

Finally he screamed as cremated flesh was torn away under her rough use of a scouring pad. Father hit him in the jaw and blessed darkness swept over the new eunuch.

Searing pain wrenched him back to consciousness and after blinking back the light realized what was happening. The doctor was cutting off what remained of his cock and balls. They were turning him into a girl. Why didn’t they just slit his throat instead? He wanted to scream but they’d gagged him. Father’s knots stopped him from moving any part of his body.

"Good, your awake. Here’s what’s happening. I’m cutting what’s left of your manhood, you were only going to keep using it for sinful purposes anyway," the surgeon said.

Spencer used his failing strength to give him the finger.

"I see Father Daniel was right about you. Anyway, once that’s cleared away I’ll give you a vagina so you can, uh, so you can piss. I’ve given you a shot blocking all growth hormones so between that and your castration you’ll never grow taller or reach puberty.

Spencer let his head hit the table and began to cry. His mental anguish overcame the physical pain. His body shut down again.

He woke up once, realized he was in his own bed, saw his father at the door and went back to sleep.

When he woke for good Spencer was tied to a gurney in the back of a van. Still naked but covered by a rag of a blanket.

"What’s going on? Where am I?" he croaked.

"Oh look William, the girl-boy’s awake."

"Doc says to give him some water and that’s all he gets to he reaches his new home."

"More than the perv deserves even then," the first man said. "As to where you’re going. To your new home at the order’s monastery just this side of the Welsh border. Be there by suppertime if the traffic and weather holds."

Spencer sipped the water while absorbing this information and remembering what the priest and doctor said. And the way the doctor said some things. He reached out when the guy went to leave, still desperately thirsty.

"Sorry, doctor’s orders. You know, it’s almost a shame what’s going to happen to a girl like you."

"I’m not a girl."

The man smiled and lifted the blanket and lifted Spencer’s head a little bit. "Take a look mate, no cock, no balls, and there’s a cunt. Sounds like girl’s equipment to me."

He dropped Spencer’s head and headed back to his chair leaving the stunned boy uncovered.

"It was real, not a dream; the fire, the surgery, being sent away forever. All real," he said softly.

There were no windows in his part of the van so he couldn’t see where they were going. From what the two men said and the things Father Daniel let slip over the years he knew the monastery was at the northern fringe of the England-Wales border. The only way to describe that area was remote and rugged.

As despair settled in he thought it really didn’t matter where he went, as long as he was going to die.

Hours later he discovered he wasn’t that lucky.

The truck finally stopped after running over constantly rougher roads. Spencer heard a gate open, the van moved forward and the gate closed behind as the van moved on.

Finally the van stopped and the engine shut off. The two men came around, opened the year door, unstrapped him and pulled him off the gurney and out the door. The fading light blinded him and he was about to fall when somebody grabbed him and dragged him along.

His eyes focused for the first and last time on the front of his new residence. It was a plain stone façade with a huge crucifix on top. He blinked, not sure if the crucified Jesus was breathing or he’d imagined it.

As he was led through the monastery he saw various priests and other men lining the wall, then heard them fall in behind. Entering the church proper he was pushed in front and up to the altar. There he was lain face down and his arms tied to the far sides.

From behind a man’s voice sang an ancient prayer in Latin as he approached. The footsteps and voice stopped and the man put his hands on Spencer’s naked back.

"Amen."

"Amen," echoed the assembled priests.

"Amen," said Spencer.

"My brothers," the man said in English, "Jesus has sent this poor thing to us because of its sins and its inability to mend his ways. And he thanks God for it. Don’t you?"

"Yes father," Spencer said.

"Many of the boys sent here wish us to kill him. Some like Andrew today we grant that wish. Would you like to die?"

"Yes father."

"Wishing to die before God decides it’s time. My brothers, listen, another example of its blackened soul. You are not going to die. Part of you may want to even more but know that you are here to serve those who have chosen to sanctify their lives to God and his only son who died on the cross for our sins."

A chorus of Amen and Hallelujahs rang through the hall.

"From now on you will answer only to the name "it." That is your name since you are no longer the boy named Spencer and neither are you truly a female. You are an it and so shall you be called. You will never utter a word unless ordered to. You have one purpose in life, to service the penises of the priests and others. You will service them with your hands, mouth, anus and vagina."

"I don’t have a vagina," Spencer called.

"Brother Simon, it’s time to teach it a lesson."

"Yes Father."

The hands were removed and one set of footsteps retreated while another approached. Without warning Spencer felt a thick leather belt pummel his rear. He refused to scream or cry. There would be time enough for that he knew.

"Now I will repeat again you thick head oaf," the head priest hit the back of Spencer’s head. "You’re only function is to be the sexual tool of whoever wants to use you. You have no choice as to who, what, when, why or how. Misbehave and Brother Simon will give you some more lessons. Today we will all welcome you to our home. All seventy-six of us, maybe more than once."

With that the head priest spread Spencer’s cheeks and filled the boy’s hole.

Man, teen, boy, each took their turn. Time passed for the sex toy as load after load filled and flowed out of his ass.

Finally bells rang and the man fucking him pulled out and shot his load all over the ravaged ass. Then that priest led evening prayers over Spencer’s body.

After services the priests left for supper. A little while later a small boy of about five wearing a loincloth, came to untie Spencer. Once loose he fell to the ground.

"Thank you," he said and was rewarded by a kick to the stomach by a bare foot.

"Be grateful I don’t tell Father Joshua that you talked. Now blow me and I’ll take you to your cage."

Spencer sighed inside and blew the boy for a half-hour before the prepubescent youngster dry orgasmed.

"Good, now stand and follow me. If you can’t stand crawl, it doesn’t matter to me," the boy said.

Spencer wondered what hardened the young boy so much in a house of God, as he still thought of it, while standing.

He followed the now equally naked youngster down a circular staircase to the lower basement. There he was locked into a cage with no amenities other than a tin can.

"This is your home. You will be here unless you’re working. The can is for drinking, pissing and shitting."

The boy left and Spencer sat on the floor and cried.

One year, ten months and thirteen days later we find a naked Spencer sitting on the floor of the same cage huddled over a piece of scrap paper, trying to remember how to hold a broken pencil.

To anybody who cares;

Today is my sixteenth birthday if I’ve kept my date scratches right. If not it’s close enough. I hid this paper and pencil for a while so I could write my suicide note. Since I got here my life’s been hell, and made that way by men I was taught knew God’s word and would lead me to him. Instead I’ve been used sexually in every conceivable way by people saying that since I’m not a boy or a girl it doesn’t violates their vow of chastity to use me.

Well I am a man. A sixteen-year-old man who planned on marrying today then going to work to raise my family.

Instead I will take the first opportunity today to commit suicide. Forgive me God but I cannot live like this anymore.

Spencer Randolph

The boy placed the note under his can; the same can as the first day, for somebody to find it. Maybe they’d think but he doubted it.

A scratching noise on the window high over his bed caught his attention and he looked up expecting to see a bird or rat. Instead he saw two faces, strange yet familiar. One wasn’t more than a baby and the other about his age. They motioned him away from the window.

He followed instructions as always. The older boy broke the window and Spencer dodged the falling fragments. He picked up one large shard and considered slitting his wrist or throat with this gift from heaven.

"Spen don’t, we’ve come to rescue you," the younger one said.

Spencer turned that over in his mind. "Abraham? Is that you?"

"Yes, Timmy and I found out where you were and when I was big enough we came to get you."

"Timmy?"

"Yes it’s me love, but we don’t have much time. I’m going to drop a rope to you. Can you tie it around your waist or under your arms?"

Spencer nodded, stunned beyond belief. Was he really moments from freedom and whatever that would bring?

He was and after quick hugs he put on the shorts and trainers they’d brought for him and they headed out.

The End:

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