The following is a fictional story involving humiliation, degradation and non-consensual sexual acts. All characters in this story are 18 years old or older.
“Get your fucking hands off of me!! Fucking pigs!!” Kiv struggled as the two faceless Peacekeepers placed magnetic cuffs on his wrists and activated them behind his back. He had been careless, he thought to himself as he was forcibly pushed on the back of the police van. His one consolation was that he had managed to distract the Peacekeepers long enough that the other members of the Resistance got away; he only hoped they would be smart enough not to do anything stupid.
Kiv endured the bumpy ride in the back of the closed van in silence, his heart beating fast. He kept telling himself it would be OK. The Resistance had managed to help others escape before; they would not turn their back on him. Still, all he had really done was run messages through the black market tunnels. At the age of 23, his small frame and lithe, athletic body were perfect to slink away undetected, something that had been a boon for the Resistance. But everyone’s luck runs out sometime. Even Kiv’s.
The van came to a sudden stop, and the doors opened. Kiv squinted as the intense lights blinded him, but before he could get used to them, he was already being grabbed by the arm and pushed off. He looked around, confused. He had been expecting to arrive at the Ministry of Justice downtown while he awaited a sham trial, but he did not recognize this place. It was a windowless black building on the outskirts of the city, sitting behind high walls.
“Wha-... where...?” Kiv’s questioning was interrupted by one of the guards pushing him forward to make him walk. He looked around nervously as they made their way inside the building, where the blindingly white walls and polished floors contrasted with the black exterior, giving it the appearance of a research facility. They walked in silence through a long hallway lined with doors, some of which had Peacekeeper officials standing guard.
Finally, they stopped in front of one of the doors and gestured for Kiv to go inside. The two guards followed after him.
“Strip”, ordered one of the officials, deactivating the magnetic force of the cuffs on his wrists that kept his hands behind his back. It was the first word the Peacekeepers had uttered since arriving at the facility.
Kiv was unsettled. He had heard the way sham trials were conducted by the Central Administration, but nothing like this. Was he expected to change into a prison garment as he awaited trial? He thought of resisting now that his wrists were free, but looking around the bare, enclosed room and the two armed officials in front of him, he knew it would be a terrible idea. Perhaps if he cooperated, it would buy him enough time for the rest of the Resistance to locate him.
He stripped off all his clothes until he was standing there in his underwear, yet the guards did not seem satisfied; one of them made a gesture towards the loose boxers he was wearing.
“Fuckin’ perverted pigs”, snorted Kiv to the impassive, faceless guards, hoping his voice did not quiver with the nervousness he really felt as he stripped off completely. He was not a bashful man and his athletic body was nothing to be embarrassed about, yet at the moment he felt quite vulnerable. He tried to control the shaking of his legs as he placed the clothes next to him; his penis, usually a respectable size even when soft, seemed to shrink in size, much to his chagrin.
The guards fitted him with cuffs on his ankles and made him stand naked on a spot marked with painted footprints facing a wall, and had him raise his hands above his head. Kiv yelped in surprise as the cuffs on his wrists were suddenly locked again, this time keeping his arms raised as they were magnetically attached to a hitherto unnoticed overhead rail. The guards stepped back as the wall Kiv was facing opened, revealing a long, white corridor ahead with a conveyor belt right in the middle, one he was already standing on.
“What the hell is this? You pigs!! Fucking let me go!!” Kiv freaked out, trying to kick the guards, but his feet felt glued to the ground: the cuffs on his ankles were magnetically attached to the floor. He struggled in vain, moving his naked body around to no avail.
The ground beneath Kiv’s feet lurched to life, as did the rail holding his wrists above his head. He continued to struggle, looking back and yelling at the guards standing there, their expressions unreadable behind their helmets. As he crossed the threshold, the door closed behind him. The conveyor stopped, and he looked around, looking for an inexistent escape route. He was alone in a long, white corridor with little more than the conveyor belt on which he was currently standing. One side of the hallway had one-way mirrors; people would no doubt be watching him. Kiv felt anger replace his fear. He spat against the mirror, but if someone was on the other side, there was no immediate reaction.
"Beginning grooming processing," Kiv was startled as a smooth, genderless voice announced from hidden speakers.
A ring of blue light swept down his body from head to toes, slowly mapping every centimeter of it. Kiv clenched his jaw as he felt invisible fields tugging at different parts of his body, tracing his spine, pushing and lightly pulling on his nipples, lingering on his cock and balls as it seemed to weigh them with clinical precision. He tried not to shiver at the invasive sensations, not wanting to show the unseen watchers his discomfort.
As the scanning was completed, the ceiling opened and a mechanical arm covered in a silicone pad unfolded, gripping his head and forcing him to tilt it back against his will. Another arm lathered his jaw and throat with a foamy, warm substance that felt slightly stinging. Kiv briefly wondered if this was how the Central Administration planned to get rid of him, but the burning sensation didn’t seem to be severe. Other arms descended and started working over the rest of his body, lathering most of it with the substance: chest, underarms, arms, legs, ass, even his balls and the patch above his cock were covered in it.
The mechanical arms receded, and the floor plates on either side of Kiv opened up. Two sleek, thin rectangles rose from the ground, locking into place just beside the conveyor belt. With a sudden hiss, the rectangles released twin pressurized water jets at the rebel, who was caught unaware at the sudden, cold liquid hitting his body at great speed. He coughed as the arm holding his head back finally released him and he shook his head, trying to get the water off his eyes. As he saw the water pooling at his feet, already draining from newly-opened grates, he was horrified to see all the hair it carried. He looked down at his body and gasped.
“Motherfuckers,” he muttered, incredulous, as he stared at his now almost entirely smooth body and hairless groin.
The panels on the ceiling opened once more, and an array of lasers started rapidly scanning his body. They very quickly and with great precision fired wherever they detected stray hairs until his body was completely devoid of hair from the neck down, leaving his skin hypersensitive and baby-smooth. Kiv was unaware of it, but the process ensured he would never grow body hair again.
The belt jerked forward once more, almost making him lose his balance if not for the cuffs on his wrists holding him up. Fans swept at him, drying him off completely as he arrived at the next station, all the while Kiv continued to struggle against his bonds.
As they once again came to a stop, Kiv felt himself forced to spread his legs wider by the magnetic cuffs in his ankles. At the same time, the cuffs holding his hands over his head moved at a slightly faster pace than the conveyor belt until he was arching his back, his ass pushing upward in an awkward, vulnerable position. He gritted his teeth.
Unseen by the rebel, a flexible nozzle rose between his thighs, the tip slick with gel. Kiv grunted in surprise as he felt it pushing against his virgin hole without warning, making smooth, circling motions before popping inside of him with mechanical precision. He swore up and down at the intrusion as he felt something flooding his insides: a cleaning solution that also contained a mild arousal agent. It pumped the mixture inside of him until Kiv felt bloated.
“Ugh,” Kiv complained, his protests forgotten by the pain in his gut. Finally, just as he felt he wouldn’t be able to take it anymore, the pumping stopped, although the nozzle remained inside of him. He was sweaty and felt dizzy as the arousal agent began to do its job; the pressure was becoming unbearable, but there was something else there... another kind of pressure against something inside his ass. His cock twitched unexpectedly at the sensation.
He bit back a groan as he felt the nozzle move inside of him once more. It was flushing the solution, suctioning it all back now that his insides had been properly cleaned. His cock twitched once more; he hated how his body was reacting to the process, but it was even worse the second and then the third time the operation was repeated. It wasn’t until then that the system seemed to be content with the result.
“Grooming processing completed. Beginning containment and adornment processing,” the disembodied voice announced.
Kiv cried out as the nozzle exited him as abruptly as it had first entered him. His head hanging down and his body still in the same vulnerable position with his ass raised and back arched, he felt exhausted after being filled three times with the substance. Worse still, he still felt out of sorts and a bit dizzy. He barely registered the movement around him, and only when he felt something pushing against his back entrance did he realize the system had moved on to the next humiliation.
His eyes widened as he realized, too late, that he was about to be penetrated once more. He tried to clench his asscheeks to avoid the invasion, but it was a losing battle, slick as his hole was with the lubricant gel and already “warmed up” by the nozzle. This probe, much thicker than the previous nozzle, pressed relentlessly against his hole until the tip breached with a wet pop, stretching his previously virgin ring as it pushed deeper inside of him. This time, the young rebel was not able to hold back the moan as the object made its way deeper and deeper inside of him, pushing against his swollen prostate.
“Oh, FUCK!” Kiv closed his eyes, his cock now undeniably hard. He had never in his life been penetrated, never experienced this kind of sensation, and yet his body seemed oddly receptive to it. The object inside of him seemed to inflate slightly, expertly positioned to exert pressure on his prostate, and he groaned as an intense feeling of pleasure traversed his entire body from head to toes. It was too much, it was both painful and maddeningly pleasurable. His cock throbbed, a clear drop of precum hanging from its tip.
The arm detached from the plug and exited him with an obscene sound, leaving behind the foreign object still inside of him. Kiv once again felt full, albeit in a different way. The belt moved slightly forward, and Kiv was finally allowed to once again stand tall. He felt the foreign object shift uncomfortably inside of him; it was an odd feeling, and much to his dismay, not an altogether unpleasant one.
Kiv was having trouble following all that was happening to him. He still felt dizzy and disoriented, and his cock seemed to have a life of its own. He saw with confusion as other mechanical appendages appeared in his field of vision. Some of them held him with such strength he was unable to move entirely, not even to look down, while others seemed much smaller, as if for more delicate, specialized work. Kiv continued to weakly struggle as the smaller arms descended to his groin area. He felt his cock being manipulated by the robotic arms and a cool, metallic surface pressing against the base of his cock, tightening around it. The arms were unyielding, holding him down in place.
Something metallic was being pressed against his hard-on, but it seemed his cock just couldn’t fit inside the casing due to its hardness. The system, however, was prepared for that. Kiv felt a painful electric surge on the plug inside of him that made his whole body tense up, involuntarily clenching his asscheeks with the object inside of him in a way that intensified the pain. He cried out as the brief electric shock waned, his muscles sore. The plug serves a double purpose, he thought to himself. He could feel it pulsing still, ready to deliver pleasure or pain at the whim of his tormentors.
The appendages tried once more to encase his cock, which had softened due to the pain. A sudden feeling of heat down his groin was alarming enough, but he tensed even more when he saw sparks flying for a couple of seconds from somewhere around that area. He felt a sudden tightness in his crotch, and as he was allowed a bit more movement, he dared look down to find that his cock was now encased in a tight metallic device, way too small to accommodate him at full hardness. And yet, with a helpless throb in his now-caged cock, he was horrified to discover that, even now, his member tried to get hard.
The mechanical arms were not yet done with him. A couple of them, containing delicate pincers, grabbed onto his nipples, tugging them outward. It was more uncomfortable than painful, and yet more degrading than Kiv would have expected. Two more arms held him in place as he tried to squirm away while the ones with the pincers produced tiny silver rings. As they approached his nipples, Kiv looked at them in confusion, but the moment he realized what they were for was the exact moment when they pierced his skin in one clean motion. The pain was thankfully brief, and it was dulled by the pleasant vibrations of the surprisingly heavy rings. The plug inside his ass seemed to vibrate at the same frequency, and Kiv's eyes fluttered at the strange, new pleasure. His caged cock leaked pathetically. What were they doing to his body?
One final marking awaited him as he moved forward. Just above his cock, right on his pubic mound, an articulated arm fired a low-frequency laser that burned his skin. At the same time, he felt the burning on his right ass cheek from another unseen laser. He gritted his teeth through the pain. After that, a soothing gel was applied to the red, permanent marks on his skin to alleviate the pain. He dared look down and immediately recognized the mark permanently engraved on his skin: the symbol of the Central Administration.
A cold chill went down Kiv’s spine. Marked. He was forever marked by the government he had spent his entire life fighting against. Even if he somehow escaped this nightmare, it would not remove that mark on his body.
A part of him was afraid to look, but he had to. Looking over at the one-way mirror, he angled his hips so he would see the second mark, the one that had been etched on his ass: it was a square containing a series of interlocking bars. His blood ran cold. An HRA ID. Human Recreation Asset Identifier.
He felt sick. All this time, he had assumed he had been preparing to be thrown to a cold cell, that maybe this whole process was designed to humiliate and break him. But never had it occurred to him that he was being prepared to serve as a human fleshlight, a thing to be used for the sexual pleasure of others. Nothing more than a cumdump.
Kiv began to desperately struggle once more as the disembodied voice announced the beginning of the neurological conversion. He screamed in rage as a padded helmet descended and covered his vision, and he tried to hold on to his thoughts as his eyes were forced open and images began to float before his very eyes.
Images and sensations began to flash before his eyes, too quick and too brief to make sense of them. Faceless, powerful men to whom he was looking up. A bare room. A profile view of a man prostrated at the feet of another. A time-lapse of city movement. An erect penis, dripping with precum. The insignia of the Central Administration. A fisheye view of a tree. Numbers. Close-ups of mouths servicing hard cocks. It was too much, overwhelming his mind to the point that he could hardly think.
“Your designation is HRA-22-C,” a soothing voice whispered in his ear.
“FUCK YOU!! My name is KIV!! MY FUCKING NAME IS- ARGH!!” A painful jolt of electricity against his prostate left him groaning in pain. The images did not stop. If anything, they seemed to be moving faster than before, all the while the voice in his ear kept repeating the same message, over and over again. HRA-22-C. HRA-22-C.
Kiv whimpered, his limp body hanging from the cuffs. He tried to hold on to what he knew, repeating in his mind his own name, but it was getting harder and harder to think when his brain was busy trying to process the overwhelming avalanche of information. Other phrases began playing in his ears, so soft he barely noticed them:
“You exist to serve the Central Administration.”
“Their pleasure is your pleasure.”
“Resistance is pain.”
As the random images continued to abuse his mind, his mouth started moving on its own, unprompted. He had not noticed when he had started repeating the phrases himself. But so what if he did?
The images, which up until now had seemed completely random, seemed to coalesce until they started to form stories, like memories. But they were not his memories… were they?
He was down on his knees, his lips stretched wide around a thick cock. He slobbered obscenely, desperately trying to fit the whole thing in his mouth. An endorphin rush. Was he moaning for real, or was that from the memory? It felt so good... it was such a good memory.
But it was not his memory. He had never sucked a cock... right? He was straight. He had lost his virginity to a fellow rebel called...
Another painful electric pulse. He gritted his teeth. Her name. What was that girl’s name? Why couldn’t he remember? Another shock. Pain. He hated pain.
He was down on all fours, presenting his ass, his head low to the ground. Tall, naked officials from the Central Administration were approaching him and he felt joyous. They were going to fuck him, and he couldn’t be happier. He wanted it. He needed it. It felt so good to serve.
(It felt so good to serve?)
He tried to entice them by shaking his ass, and he moaned when one of them slapped it. He was such a whore.
(But he wasn’t a whore? No, bad thought!)
One of them was behind him. He felt delirious with pleasure as the man rubbed his cockhead against his willing hole. He was begging, begging to be fucked.
(When did this happen? Did it happen?)
The man speared him in one abrupt movement. HRA-22-C’s mouth formed an O-shape as a flood of dopamine hit him. Was there a happier moment in his life than this? Impossible. This was it. This was as good as it gets.
(No...)
The man grabbed him by his hips and started pumping into him. He whimpered as each thrust hit his prostate with great precision, like a machine. A machine...
His eyes fluttered, no longer forced open. He faintly realized the sensations of being fucked were actually there; he was being fucked for real. A piston had taken hold of the plug in his ass and was moving it inside of him with cold efficiency, hitting his prostate each time. His caged cock was leaking like crazy, unable to get hard and yet on the verge of orgasm.
“Designation,” the voice ordered.
His name. What was his name? His lips moved automatically, not really thinking but repeating out of habit.
“K-Kiv-,” he started before a brief electric surge surged. Why had he said that? No. That was the wrong thing to say.
“Designation,” the voice repeated.
Focus. What was his name? No, what was his designation?
“H-HRA-22-C,” tears streamed down his cheeks. He was crying. Why was he crying? There was no reason to cry; it was the right thing to say, he knew it was. And as evidence of that, the piston, which had briefly stopped after the shock, thankfully came back to life and began to push into him, engulfing him in waves of pleasure. The vibrations of the plug matched the vibrations of the silver rings on his nipples.
The machine rewarded him with more doses of dopamine as it replayed more of his memories. Kissing the boot of a superior. Men using his mouth and ass. A man stroking his chin, telling him what a good job he did. His body, covered in cum. Him standing up, naked and saluting the Central Administration officers. Him laying face up on the floor, hard cocks all over him. Men after men after men fucking his hole, fucking his throat…
HRA-22-C was moaning openly now, drool leaking through the corner of his mouth. He was moving his hips in rhythm to the piston. His aching cock throbbed in its cage, unable to get hard and yet… he felt it. It was coming. His reward for being such a good, obedient unit.
With a final thrust of his hips, HRA-22-C had the biggest orgasm in his entire life while at the same time producing a pathetic spurt that leaked through his caged cock. It lasted for several seconds. He kept moaning pathetically as it consumed him, a wild look on his face. This was it. This was what he was made for.
As he was coming down from his high, the helmet was removed, and he blinked in confusion at the bright lights. He distantly heard the words “reprogramming successful” but paid no attention to them. He realized he had been drooling.
The conveyor belt started again and carried him towards the exit. A door opened, and behind it he saw two armed Peacekeepers flanking a man in a perfectly tailored suit.
“What is your name, son?” asked the man, approaching him and gently touching the back of his head. It felt good.
“I’m HRA-22-C, Sir!” he said proudly.
The man smiled, signaling one of the Peacekeeper guards. The magnetic current holding the arms of the newly programmed unit turned off and he fell to the ground on a heap, too weak to stand up. Still, he prostrated in front of the man. He hoped he would get to serve him soon.
As the man leaned down and personally attached a collar to him, there was a part of HRA-22-C that felt that he was missing something, but when he started thinking about it, he felt bad. He didn’t like feeling bad. It was much better to serve; that’s where real happiness was. And he was doing such an important job for the Central Administration.
Such an important job.
Author Notes
Thank you very much for reading this story! I hope you enjoyed it; I’m happy with how it turned out. I love hearing people's comments, so if you post a comment or reach out via e-mail telling me what you enjoyed/didn't enjoy I would really appreciate it!
Similar to "The Magician's Assistant", this is very loosely based on a story I originally wrote years ago in Spanish titled "La habitación" ("The Room"). In the end they are completely different stories, the only thing they have in common is the basic premise. I think I like this one better.
So, where did this story come from? The original story in Spanish was inspired by the 90’s movie The Fortress, specifically when the protagonist is processed when entering the prison and forcibly made to swallow a controlling device. I have also long had the fantasy of an automated system on a conveyor belt processing a prisoner against their will. In addition to that, I have recently been reading Matt Dinniman’s Dungeon Crawler Carl series and the protagonist's mantra of “You will not break me” resonated with me. I was tempted to have Kiv say that word for word, but I thought it would be too on the nose and too distracting! Speaking of distracting, Kiv’s original designation number was 24601. Make of that what you will.
If you like stories involving humiliation and non-con I invite you to check my other stories, hopefully you may find something you enjoy there.
Finally, I want to thank a certain friend who pushed me to continue writing, and to whom I showed my progress each day (it took me five days to finish!). Thank you!!
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
