assboypgh: justanotherff: Mark gets a hands-on tour of an exclusive, high-end brothel that has a dar

assboypgh: justanotherff: Mark gets a hands-on tour of an exclusive, high-end brothel that has a dark and deeply twisted side I sat at my desk and wondered just why I had been hired to be the overseer of the Reintegration Centre. Had I been hired for my administrative skills or because of my huge dick, insatiable fucklust and sadistic nature? No… as I reviewed the file in front of me I knew the real reason was because of my skill at corrupting men of all ages. Of being able to take guys from any background - prison, reform school, or even wayward college kids - and transform them into being valuable and useful members of society. Of course, every so often I also transformed a totally unsuspecting guy, like the file of Mark Wilson that laid on my desk. When I had been headhunted the Reintegration Centre had a fairly good, solid, reliable reputation. Me? I was thirty five years old, handsome, with a strong muscular body and full pelt of hair, big hands, and a fuckslab that would intimidate the most macho of men. But really it was the dark corners and deepest crevices of my mind that the centre’s president wanted. Since then I’ve taken this place to the next level… Medically, deviantly and productively - our output has gone through the roof since I started! We specialise in ‘reintegrating’ men into society - though not the society that the ‘holier-than-thou’s would recognise.  No… our subjects don’t leave as being valuable to ‘normal’ society, they emerge as high-functioning sex pigs highly prized by the fringes of gay society. We’re the pig lube that keeps sexual deviants across the country happy and horny. It’s true - we have a special mandate from the government - they realise the gay underground needs a constant supply of new tricks to replace the ones worn out by heavy use. They’d much rather professionals like us turned them out than a bunch of rank amateurs. As well as the ‘transformative’ parts of the centre, I am also responsible for running the more public face of the organisation: our high-end brothel. I say public, the brothel is still one of the most exclusive in the country, not only in the number of patrons but also in the tastes of our clients. We don’t deal in regular rent boys or vanilla sex. No, we specialise in catering to the demands of men into hardcore BDSM, fisting and a never ending list of sick and perverted kinks. The type of stuff that out on the streets could get you locked up. It was rare that anyone came to the centre without being in full leather or rubber, and we didn’t accept any novices. Of course, having a ready and constant supply of the most perverted men in the world grace the doors of our brothel meant that finding new subjects for the centre was usually a very easy task. Especially when it came to filling the special requests of our patrons - like finding a man a with a big cock but a tiny pisshole that we could ream out with giant sounds until his dick lips lost all elasticity, leaking precum and staining his jockeys every time he saw a hot stud, and when he orgasmed his cum would bubble languidly out of his cock rather than shoot… It was all in a day’s work. Everyone who wanted to use the brothel had to go through an extreme vetting program, not only to discover their fetishes and kinks - and what they were capable of - but also to find out whether they were suitable candidates for reintegration. Not that they knew that, they just thought the pre-screening was a sign of the quality of men allowed to use the brothel. Hell, out there in the pig world, having made it through the doors of our establishment was a sign of respect -  “yeah, I was selected by the centre, fuck! do those men know how to work a cunt!” - it was the ultimate accolade. Mark was different though… Looking down at his file I felt he was on a journey and was yet to reach the high-tide mark of his pig career. He’d said he was looking for a fisting top who was deeply experienced, mature, hairy and athletic to muscular. Had to be strong, verbal and able to take charge of a scene. Mark was just entering his thirties, into big toys since his twenties, took his first fist when he was 26. Now into seriously stretching his hole, and discovering just how bondage, leather and rubber can intensify the experience. One of his partners we interviewed - a casual scout we keep on the books from Recon - said he had the capability to be an insatiable hole but seemed to be lacking stamina. All very interesting… There was a knock at the door and my assistant announced that Mark was here and waiting for his induction interview. He’d been told it was because I liked to greet every new client personally, but really it was all part of my standard procedure for discovering new meat that was malleable and susceptible to our more extreme programs. He walked in, a good height and tight body. Handsome, light stubble and a simple confidence about him (though I also detected a hint of vulnerability - perhaps because this was his first visit to a brothel - his file said he was no stranger to fetish bars, but not experienced in places of ill repute. How little he knew!). “Hi Mark, I’m the overseer here, welcome!” I had to do something to put the guy at ease. “Thanks for finding your way here… I know our admissions process is a little bit tough, but I know you’ll find it worthwhile in the end…” “Thanks - it sure was! Some of the questions on the form almost made me drop out - I mean I can understand you wanting to know how many guys I’ve slept with and needing to know what I’m into, but the questions at the end got a little bit freaky!” “I know, I know” I replied. “But they’re there to separate the wheat from the chaff. They’re designed to find out just how comfortable you are with your sex. If you’re man enough to supply the size of your dick (flaccid and hard, girth and length), the weight of your balls, the stretch of your sack and what size toys you can take then chances are you’ll fit right in here.” And provide me with the information I need to make a decision about his future… “Well I keep hearing you guys are the best so I just went for it” he replied. I laughed in thanks. “I’m glad our reputation precedes us. We do have very high standards, but that’s only because we believe we’re the finest brothel in the world. Now, how can we help today? I believe you’re looking for a fisting top?” “That’s right, I am… I’ve been into FF for about six years now and whilst I love it, I’m having difficulties finding a guy who can really push my limits. I don’t know whether it’s where I live, or the signals I’m sending out, but I really feel I’m capable of more and I’m just not getting it.” Hmm, interesting. One of the centre’s guiding policies was that if a subject self-believed they could be pushed further it was often an indicator of latent desire to be completely transformed. To go from being acceptable to normal society to a wanton sex pig. My job now was to amplify these thoughts and sow the seeds of his own destruction… “Well, that’s something we can definitely help you with… We have lots of very talented tops who really love their work and will happily play with your hole for hours on end. How long a session are you looking for? I mean, how exactly do you want your limits to be pushed? What are you aiming for longer-term?” “I guess I really want to be able to take the double. I feel like I’ve been building up to it for a while, but I haven’t found anyone to take me over the edge yet.” “Yes, many guys have a bit of a mental block about getting that far. You just need to open your mind to all the possibilities that having a hole that big will allow… I know guys here who have said that they’ve never looked back after taking the double.” (Sure, only because looking back to their former lives from their new world as pigcunts is so humiliating it would destroy their fragile minds!) I could see from the slight flush in Mark’s face that he was beginning to take the bait. I offered him a drink - laced with a mild but very effective drug that would make him both horny and brazenly open to suggestion… “How about one of these guys right here?” I said as I handed over a few cards with the details and pictures of some our stable. I knew the guys I’d selected would hit all his buttons. Their physical appearances would appeal to his deep seated desire to be controlled by a stronger man, and the descriptions of their skills were pornographic to say the least. He looked them over, shuffling them in his hands several times and seemed to be struggling to make a decision. If anything I had overstacked the deck - all three guys had bodies built for sex - virile, broad shouldered, pierced, and all with alpha tattoos showing years of dedication to pig sex. Basically, I wasn’t giving Mark a choice. It was hard core or nothing. I saw my moment and took it… “Of course, if you’re really serious about pushing your limits maybe you should see one of our more… exclusive tops. No, no, maybe you’re not ready for that…” That immediately peaked his interest - reverse psychology can be so easy when someone is under the influence. “No, no, I’m interested! What exclusive tops?” His eyes seemed to almost light up in wanting to know more. “Well, in addition to running a brothel we also help guys out with more specialised needs. It’s a premium service that’s had quite some success in taking guys into new and totally unexpected directions. I’m not going to lie, it’s opened up a lot of doors for men like you.” “Like what exactly? Better sex? More partners?” “Both of those, but really it’s about finding what you desire the most… Tell you what, instead of me babbling on why don’t I just simply show you? Don’t worry, these guys will still be waiting for you once you’ve had the tour.” “Wow, thank you, that’s very kind.” I told him to finish his drink and then stood up, gesturing him to follow me as I walked towards the door. It was time to really open up Mark’s horizons. I went down the corridor, away from the brothel, and into our secure unit that could only be accessed by retinal eye scans (we had tried using fingerprint sensors, but the constant layer of thick lube on people’s hands had simply made it impractical). We went through into a wide, long and double height corridor with rooms off a central gangway. It was quiet, with an air of quiet efficiency - I had had everything reorganised to make the place a machine for sex transformation. The central aisle was an open plan storage area for every single sexual device you can imagine, from the basic toys you would expect every gay man to own (dildos of every size, nipple clamps, cock rings, restraints) to the more high-end necessities of running an establishment like ours (lube on tap, industrial fucking machines, suction pumps, high-intensity bondage wear, and drugs for stamina and horniness ). Before it all had been hidden away in cupboards, but I found that having it out in the open inspired my orderlies. It was purposefully arranged to encourage chance meetings as new supplies were reached for in the midst of a training session. The depths of inspiration that could unfold as two orderlies haggled over the same toy selection had started to take our training to whole new levels. ——— As Mark took in the view, I steered him towards one of the rooms on the right. Each room had a screen outside, allowing everyone to know the number and history of the inmate, the particular program they were enrolled on, and - in real time - the status of the training in progress. “This is an interesting one, and perhaps one of our most unusual cases. This boy is enrolled on our scholarship program. It aims to take a guy of 18-21 years old and completely transform them. They know that the training they get here will take care of the rest of their lives from the moment they leave the centre - financially and sexually. As you can imagine, the competition from the street kids of New York, Chicago, London and Berlin is fierce. They all want what we can give them. There is a catch though… the scholarship offers two paths, and the boys don’t know which path they’ve been accepted onto. It’s a gamble we say, a lottery, but in reality we carefully assess each candidate on his own merits and make the decision for them. Here we have a boy who has received his basic fist training and is about to be told his destiny. Let’s watch.” We walked into the room to see a young twenty year old strapped to a gynaecological chair. He was clearly an athletic specimen, yet his years of gang life – he’d been selected from the streets of downtown Chicago - had given him a surly expression to go along with the thug tattoos that covered his body. Nearby him stood one of my orderlies - he nodded in greeting to us and then turned back to the boy to start explaining. “Now, as you know, you entered the scholarship program as it will meet all of your future needs. No more scouting the streets of Chicago and living hand to mouth. No more gang warfare or wondering where your next meal is coming from. No, you will never be left wanting again. Today is a special day though, today we reveal which path has been chosen for you: to be transformed into a prime fisting cunt or to be turned into a mere utility cunt. You don’t have a choice in this matter - it’s the jeopardy you signed up for when you applied for the program. As you know, the difference between the two paths is extreme. Our prime fisting cunts usually go on to be owned by wealthy sugar daddies. Your every personal need taken care for, you will live in luxury and have your hole reamed out nightly by a man who will love, nurture and train you. You will both be totally devoted to the growth of cunt - it will be a life of extreme pleasure and pure satisfaction. However, our utility cunts have a very different purpose in life. They enter into depths of depravity you couldn’t possibly imagine. They are trained to take anything: to be a whore for anyone who needs a hole to punish ffuck. Our utility cunts are always in high demand, so you can expect to be rented out to fist orgies and gang wreck parties all over the world rather than living in one place. Don’t worry though, the fees you earn will more than take care of your personal needs.” By this time we could see the boy restrained in the chair was beading sweat all over his body. Though his gag you could hear him whimpering as waited to find out his fate. The orderly lifted the top sheet of paper from his clipboard, looked down, and read the boy’s future life. “Good news… you have been selected to be a utility cunt.” The boy seemed to strain all of the muscles in his body, exerting himself to be free and show his extreme despair. The orderly didn’t let him rest for a moment before announcing that his new training regime started right now. “As you know - just in case of this eventuality - we created a mould of your cunt last night by stuffing it with softened paraffin wax. This allowed us to create a perfect tunnel plug, designed to completely fill the first six inches of your cunt. Well, I said perfectly… it may be personalised to your hole, but I think you’re going to find it a stretch to begin with. In reality we’re going to use it to start supersizing your hole.” The orderly held up a thick rubber tube, about 3 inches in diameter. One end was smooth, to facilitate easy insertion, the other end had a wide flange to ensure it stayed inside the boy. The interior was fashioned of smooth latex, the outside undulated slightly to exactly match the contours of the boy’s hole. “Now I’m just going to shove this inside of you as I explain the rest of your training… There are two primary facets: pulling a fist train every night, and your hole being kept permanently open with tunnel plugs like this one when you’re not on active duty. Don’t worry, we’ll keep on increasing the size of the plug as your training progresses… You may be wondering about bodily functions. Don’t be unduly concerned, the outside end of this device can be fitted with a stopper  - yes that’s right… your new pussy literally has a cunt plug. For something so simple it’s a surprisingly high-tech peice of kit. It can only be unlocked by me, and I’m only going to do that when I know your cunt is backed up and so full you’re begging to be drained. I’ll disable the locking mechanism and yank this chain to pop it open. The experience will be good for you - you need to learn  that your cunt is no longer your property and is only there to be of service to others…” I gestured to Mark to leave the room. I had been watching him carefully throughout the talk. It had been a gamble taking him to one of our most extreme cases first (I of course knew which scholarship path the boy was going to receive, having marked him down as perfect for cuntal destruction the moment I first saw him) but I think it had paid off. The look in Mark’s face wasn’t one of horror and disgust, but one of lust and curiosity. We left the room and I asked him what he thought. “Fucking hell, that was intense! I thought I had seen and read a lot of porn - but that was one of the most twisted, sickest fantasies you could posibly have and it was being being played out for real in front of me! I had no idea - what was it called - the tunnel plug? even existed.” “Ah yes, we invented them here in our own labs. Of course they’ve gone mainstream now with the ones Oxballs copied from us, though of course they don’t have the stopper at the end. They came about because we wanted a toy that was perfect for gape training, but that would also cruelly humiliate and stretch a boy at the same time. We’ve found that fully taking care of a cunt’s bodily functions is one way of stopping them seeing their hole as a sex organ and training them to be really mean bottoms. After all, if they’re mean, a top can be fucking mean to them in return. Truly no-holds barred fisting. You should come back and see him in fortnight. That’s when we’ll upgrade his plug to a new size and design. This one will allow us to play with him even when plugged - it will be covered in small cone-like projections that will prevent the insert from being pulled out or pushed further in by the pistoning of a fist. It’s that kind of training - the hard projections digging into the softer inner walls of his pussy - that’s really going to set him up for life as a perfect utility cunt.” ——— I could see that Mark was turned on by the idea of the new life of the boy we’d just visited. I felt it was time to broaden his horizons though. “Come on, I think you’ll be fascinated by this…” I said as I nudged him towards the the direction of inmate 288… “I’m afraid we can only look in through the viewing window as he’s  in the middle of a daily treatment cycle. I’m sure you’ll pick up the training program quickly though.” We peered through and saw a young, fit guy of college age on his knees giving a very enthusiastic blow job to a rather average looking man. Both of them seemed to being enjoying themselves - at least if the looks of ecstasy on the face of the top and the pure hunger on the face of the bottom were anything to go by. The couple were surrounded by seven other guys, all of varying statue, age, fitness, beauty and height. Mark turned to me and said “What? I don’t get it? How’s he being treated? To love giving head?” “Ah no, not at all…Watch carefully - I think that Nigel is about ready to shoot. If we’re lucky he’ll pull out slightly to fill the boy’s mouth rather than throat pumping his load.” As we watched we could see the boy’s action getting more and more vigorous and Nigel getting more and more agitated. Finally - and we were lucky - the man pulled back from the boy’s mouth and hand jerked his cock to climax. In an instant he was shooting his cum into the boy’s wide open mouth. And this was the surprising part - for an average man, with an average cock and balls, Nigel produced cum like you wouldn’t believe. It was staggering how much shot out of the end of his dick - thick, white ropes of jism straight onto the boy’s waiting tongue. I had seen it countless times and it still amazed me every time. What was all the more amazing to Mark though was that the boy was wolfing it down. Not a drop of the remarkable stream of juice was wasted. Finally the orgasm came to an end and Nigel backed away - after the boy had licked the end of his dick to hoover up any remaining drips of spunk. For a moment a look of serenity and peace came over the boy, but only for a moment. Within seconds a look of pure hunger transformed his face into one of desperate need. I could tell that Mark was surprised by what he’d just seen. I asked whether he’d worked it out yet. He hadn’t, just looking gobsmacked at the sight of the boy clamberingbing on his knees to the next man in line, who was now rock hard and pistioning his cock in and out of the boy’s mouth. I felt it was time to explain. “You see, 288 is being conditioned to be addicted to cum. And when I say addicted I really do mean it. He’s going to have a constant, daily hunger for it and he won’t be able to orgasm until he’s consumed a full pint of cum.” “A pint of cum?! Fuck, surely that’s not possible?” “I assure you it is” I replied. “By now you may have recognised that we’ve assembled 288’s team on the strength of one thing: the amount of cum they produce. You must know from surfing tumblr that monster shooters exist, they may be rare, but they exist. Even the Marquis de Sade in his 120 Days of Sodom describes a man - Hercules - who can fill a pint glass with eight ejaculations. What we’ve done is condition 288 so he will never be able to orgasm until he satisfies his pure thirst for cum. Of course, that’s easy here in the facility. We’ve searched the breadth of the country, far and wide, to procure guys with the biggest loads possible… No, he’s being trained to need more cum than one man could ever possibly supply on his own. Fuck, I’m not even sure an army barracks could supply that much cum in a day! Can you imagine it? Needing to swallow a entire pint of mancum before you can shoot yourself? Life isn’t a porn film, and we all know that most guys don’t even shoot more than a teaspoon… We choose eight super shooters as that broadly means he’ll need to suck 100 guys in real life. I mean he might get lucky if he finds some studs with 3 day or more loads, but 100 is still a nice round number. Gives him something to aim for! Of course, we haven’t decided yet whether the count resets at the beginning of each day…” “Fucking hell” said Mark, “I can’t begin to imagine the life he’s going to have from now on.” I looked down at his crotch and saw a drip of precum soaking through his jeans. He may may have said he couldn’t imagine it, but he clearly was! Maybe the thought of having a life permanently altered by sexual needs was turning him on? “Well, of course, he’s a special case whose rehabilitation is being paid for on spec by one of our sponsors. However, some of our guys check themselves in for treatment, whilst others are privately admitted.” ——— I debated which inmate to show Mark next. Top of the list was Ricky - addicted to S&M and who had gotten dangerously reckless, the cause of checking himself in. Our solution was simple - aversion therapy, to dissociate pain from pleasure, and then lessons in ‘healthy’ love to cure him from his addiction. Until Ricky had come to us, the biggest cock he’d had was a 9 inch, wrist thick guy that had apparently punch fucked him so bad he bled for days after. He admitted this shamefully to me in our first conversation, and how he’d deliberately cruised the thug when he caught the outline of his XL tool against his tight jean leg. I, of course, felt the only solution was to go bigger - to deny his hunger would just feed it - until his desire for being ploughed reverted to ‘normal’ urges. Annoyingly though, Ricky was remaining stubbornly consistent in his attitude. The last time I has seen him he had a fat dildo a full 12.5 inches long and 4 inches wide being worked in and out of his hole, and even in extreme pain, contrite and uncomfortable for everyone to see, he was still sporting a hard on. (Of course, the penis pumping, the weeks of orgasm denial, and the constant abuse of his prostate may have had something to do with this.) No, I decided that Mark wasn’t ready to hear Ricky’s cries - even if they were the pleas of an addict who wasn’t qualified to comment - so I decided to show him one of our more ‘specialised’ transformations. ——— “Let’s have a look at 566. This inmate is slightly different in that’s he’s a private client, being paid for by one of our best customers, a Mr Thomas. Mr Thomas is a real fisting aficionado and for the longest time he’s been looking for the perfect fisting cunt… What does that mean? Well, to Mr Thomas it’s one that can take his fist at anytime. Of course, that means the boy has to be trained and stretched until a fist can slide inside this boy’s cunt in one motion. That part is easy, but what Mr Thomas wants is a cunt where that can happen with no resistance and no foreplay - basically a cunt that is always hungry and ready to go. Over the course of several experiments with other boy’s Mr Thomas has supplied us with, we’ve discovered what really makes the difference is rectal lubrication. In the past we’ve tried everything from altering a boy’s diet to produce a high amount of self-lube, to surgically inserting a lube dispenser high up his anal canal. Of course, neither one of these where a permanent solution - and who wants a boy carrying a back pack of lube around him at all times?! This time though I think we’ve really hit the nail on the head. We’ve used everything we’ve learnt so far to produce the ultimate fisting cunt. It’s been a full on series of treatments - from mental conditioning to reward the behaviours we want, to very advanced growth hormones injected under the skin of his pussy tunnel, and finally a series of metal electro dildos to over stimulate the mucous glands in his hole… It was really the dildos that pushed the boy over the edge. Each one has a pattern of projections that conduct electricity straight into the lining of his hole, touching each one of his precious mucous glands. Of course, we had to turn the voltage up quite a bit, and shock him over the course of a month, but once we did it was like turning a faucet on! Look at him now - he’s resting in that exam chair, legs spread before his next session, and you can see the natural ass juices flowing non-stop from his hole. Honestly, we have to place a bucket to trap all the goop that leaks out when he’s resting. The rest of the time he’s going to have to wear a diaper. A plug would be no use as his hole is so slippery it would just slide out… Still, Mr Thomas has got the cunt he wants. I’m slightly worried about him backsliding though - whilst we haven’t seen any drop off in the amount of self-lube his hole creates, we’re going to give Mr Thomas a thin chain mail glove that conducts electricity (insulated on the inside with rubber of course!). I’m sure the boy being brutally fisted with electricity coursing through his hole will really ramp up his juices.” “Fucking hell, that’s sick!” Mark said (though his twitching cock didn’t seem to agree!). “It’s amazing just how much you can change someone - you seem to have total control over the bodies of the guy’s you’re treating.” It was fascinating to hear what details Mark was picking up from each room. I knew from experience that the drug I’d fed him was really opening up his inhibitions - the fact he didn’t even seem conscious or embarrassed by the ever growing patch of cockslime was a good sign. I was beginning to think he was a perfect inmate for one of my colleagues - Doctor Thörnkvist - who had spent years looking for someone just like Mark… ——— “Well, it’s interesting you should say that. Perhaps I should have shown you this one earlier.” We walked over to a cell on the other side of the corridor and peered into the room. The screen outside the room said ‘inmate 647, scrotum enlargement, estimated 65% complete.’ A man with a perfect body sat on the edge of a bed, totally naked. He was bent over, one arm resting on his leg, his hand cradling his head. He was looking down towards his groin. His cock was thick, veiny and stupendously big. However, that wasn’t what he was looking at - it was the gigantic sack that hung between his legs. Mark turned to me and said “Fucking hell, how big is that thing? Is that even natural?!” “Well, it’s totally natural… but no, he wasn’t born with it. What he was born with was a freakishly big cock - the perfect shape, size, with thick veins running down the shaft… honestly, it’s a sight to behold. Now we could have left him with his perfect cuntrammer, destined for a life as a gay porn star who specialised in brutally opening virgin twats for pay - I mean what else can you do in life if your soft cock hangs 8” and is as thick as a beer can?! But his problem is that he was born with nothing more than an average ball sack, which looked tiny in comparison to his hefty fuck schlong. So we decided to balance that out. Now, many people out there would do that by progressively injecting larger and larger amounts of silicon into his sack. We find the problem with that is that it can give you a slightly freakish appearance - the sack looks like a gigantic balloon rather than hanging natural. There’s no swing, no heft, just a gigantic mass. So what we’re doing is overfilling his sack up with saline every day. He’s currently taking 3 litres - that’s why his sack is the size of a football. However, notice that as the saline is reabsorbed into his body, his sack retains a very natural shape. Millimetre by millimetre we’re permanently stretching it - once we can comfortable fit 4 litres we’re going to complete the procedure by making an incision and replacing his own balls with some fake ones made for farmyard animals. Mark looked shocked. “I know, it’s amazing what they make for vets isn’t it? Who would have thought that horses and bulls would have ever need to have their testes replaced? But it’s lucky for us, as it means we have a pair of 5” balls on standby that were destined for a pedigree bull. His balls are finally going to look perfect alongside that big cock. In fact I think his sack is going to be so big it may actually make his cock look a wee bit on the small size…” I didn’t tell Mark that we hadn’t decided yet how low 647’s sack should hang. The bull balls came in two materials: medical grade silicon or surgical stainless steel. Those heavy metal fuckers would really swing low and would completely transform his life. Even simple things like jogging would be painful - they don’t make sports bras for balls! And swimming would be permanently out too - those metal balls would sink him straight to the bottom. Still, his big fuck stick meant he would still have the equipment to be a consumate top. No doubt he would take out the humilation of his new balls by fucking guys as hard as he could. Except from now on it wouldn’t be his fuck thrusts that would be remembered, no, it would be the painful weight of his metal balls slamming against the other guy’s arse… Still, we hadn’t made that decision yet. ——— As Mark took in the view, the door to inmate 341 opened up and out stepped Grant, a heavily inked muscled muscle bear I had hired about 6 months ago. He was naked apart from boots and a thick black rubber apron covering his chest and thighs. “Afternoon Sir” he said in our direction, “Just getting some more tattoo ink from supplies - we’re really going through it fast on this pig.” “I’m very glad to hear it, that was the brief after all. Do you mind if we take a look?” “Not at all Sir, he’s still sedated so take as long as you like, you won’t disturb him.” I turned to Mark as Grant rummaged around in the supply aisle. “Now this next one is very unique. He came to us with very little sexual experience, almost a virgin but not quite. A beautiful body and face - really innocent looking. Almost too beautiful to destroy but that wasn’t going to stop us.” We got to the cell door and I pushed it open. Inside was a naked 6 footer lying in an exam chair. He had large headphones strapped to his head and, even though he seemed to be in deep sleep, his mouth was moving slightly and a gentle stream of precum oozed from his semi-hard cock. The boy wasn’t tied down - he was so heavily sedated that there wasn’t a need. And we liked having full access to his body at all times. Next to him was Grant’s tattoo station, and it was obvious that the boy’s body was a work in progress. What has started out as vision of muscular perfection was now an advert for extreme sexual deviancy. For a long time I had wanted to take an innocent, clean cut man and give him the total appearance of a slut. Apart from the pure pleasure I would get from fucking up the guy’s life, he would also be a calling card for the Reintegration Centre itself. I must say it was working out far more impressively than ever I could have hoped. We were turning this beautiful muscular jock into a twisted fuck animal and a walking billboard of the kind of next level work the centre is now capable of. Normally it would take a pig an entire lifetime to accumlate the tattoos, piercings and modifications that were on 341’s body - yet we had done it to him in a month. He had permanent thick gauge piercings through his nose, nipples and frenum. His thick dick (another one of his natural assets) had a fat Prince Albert in the tip, and his sack a long ladder of metal barbell piercings. His nipples had been stretched and pumped every single day until they stood out like thimbles. Finally they had been injected with silicone to make sure they never returned to their normal size. They stood out an inch, and they also had the thickest rings you could imagine at the base. They were lightly sand papered every day to make sure they remained as sensitive as you could imagine. The biggest modifications though had been to his once pristine body. We had started by permanently removing nearly all his hair. We had left him with a mohawk on his head, and shaved his bush down to the thinnest cuntlip of hair pointing towards his dick. Of course we bleached the entire area with a strong peroxide to kill all the exposed roots and leave his new thatch blonde white against his dark tanned skin. However, it was on his muscular frame that we really went to town. Tattoos covered almost every inch, and all of them were pure filth. He was being inked to be a sex object. We had tattooed ‘COCK WHORE’ on his forehead in big thick letters. Behind each ear were the words ‘Face fuck grips’. At repeated intervals around his body - his biceps, wrists, upper thighs, ankles - were tattooed thick slave bands. Guides so any future partners would know where to tie him down. His body was covered in slogans: deposits taken, bruised low hanging fruit, moist ripe cheese, squeeze dry milk jugs… His thick 9” prick was perhaps one of our finer achievements. We had permanently defaced it to make it look a jagged, slop covered dildo. If you didn’t know better you would think it was permanently covered in lube and cunt juices. Above his cock and to one side of his body was a bio-hazard symbol - a little bit of a cliché but a necessary one. Of course we’d made it a foot wide so it curved around his flat stomach and onto his sides. We didn’t want anyone to miss it. I could feel that Mark was feeling stunned - it was a lot to take in. I thought I’d help him out as he couldn’t see the lying boy’s rear. “It’s a shame you can’t see his back. He has such broad shoulders it was a shame to waste the space. We’ve tattooed a pig in heavy black ink with a red clenched fist painted on it’s body. Then as you go down there are more and more tattoos - I don’t have the time to describe them all, except for his tramp stamp. Which in this case is big type saying ‘MAN PUSSY’ with a bold arrow pointing down. There are a couple of matching tattoos on his inner thighs, ‘PUNCH MY CUNT’ on one side, and ‘DON’T EVER STOP’ on the other. I could tell Mark was shocked but also fascinated at the same time. “Christ, and he wanted all of this?!” he asked. “Well no. He was chosen by me as a little side project. You see, 341 is being turned into a sexual deviant addicted to sex. He’s being conditioned through deep, deep hypnosis to want, no need sex. Of course, we’re not prescriptive about the type of sex he has, no, we’re just conditioning him to be totally addicted. He’ll need it, crave it. You can tell just how much he wants it by the puddle of precum on the floor - it’s got bigger even whilst we’ve been standing here. Of course in his head, he’s still a gorgeous young jock who’s totally innocent and beguiling looking. That stream of precum from his dick is probably the result of some tame wet dream about boring vanilla sex with a similarly buff young stud… But his body isn’t going to allow that. His body is going to scream out that he’s a hard fuck pig. Christ, a vanilla boy isn’t going to want to touch him! No, for him to get his kicks off he’s going to have to find people into the most extreme and degrading sex possible. After all, that’s what his body is advertising… Isn’t it going to be fun when he wakes up and discovers that he’s been turned into a sex monster? Craving sex, needing cum, needing to fuck, but that only the sickest, meanest guys are going to be attracted to him. I wonder how long it will take for him to discover just what all those tattoos mean?! Of course, that’s why he’s been sedated all this time. If he knew what we were doing to him he’d try to resist and might even escape. Take his hole for example - we’ve been rosebud pumping and working on his lips near constantly. They’re now nice and puffy and look like a real piece of work - but don’t worry, he’s never actually been fisted. It may look like he has a pro hole that can take a train, but in reality… his first experience of fisting is going to be quite a shock! We’re going to make sure we film it all, just for the entertainment value. At this point Grant came back into the room, laden down with more heavy-duty tattoo ink. I asked him what he was working on now. “Oh, I wanted to to put some favela stars around his nipples - they stand out from his body, but I don’t think we draw enough attention to them to make them a target for heavy play…” he said. “Very well, keep up the good work. We’ll leave you to it.” We left the room, Mark saying “wow that was intense, I didn’t even know that people like that existed. I thought his hole looked amazing - so wrecked that you’d imagine he’d taken a fist every day of his life - but the rest of him was terrifying!” This was all adding up to a very interesting picture. It all made me think that Mark was exactly the guy we had been looking for one of my colleagues, Dr Thörnkvist. He’d long been requesting a very special bottom. One that could be pushed to extreme limits. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t complicit in the procedure, but he had to enjoy fisting. Mark - and his latent desire in life changing transformation - seemed like just the right candidate… ——— “Right there’s just one more thing I’d like you to see.” I led Mark over to the last room in the facility. “Come on in and have a look.” The room was spacious and, hanging from the ceiling, was a very special sling of my own design. I asked Mark whether he had enjoyed the tour and how he felt now that he’d seen everything we offered. “Fuck! You’ve opened my eyes to just what’s possible. If you’ve described it to me I wouldn’t have believed it, but I’m seen it all with my own eyes. It’s made me so horny I can’t wait to be fisted! If this is what you can do to these guys, then I bet you can help me take the double!” I could tell that Mark’s ffucklust was getting the better of him. That and final effects of the drug I’d given him… “Tell you what Mark, why don’t you try this sling out for yourself? It will get you in the mood for your session.” By this stage Mark has been surrounded by sex for so long that I honestly think he would have done anything I suggested. He didn’t hesitate for a moment before shucking his clothes onto the floor and heading towards the sling. Of course, my real reason for getting Mark into the sling was to begin his new training regime. I knew that deep down he wanted to be transformed – and his application form had shown he had the potential to be insatiable and yet lacked stamina. My new sling might be just the ticket. It was made out of thick black leather, but that wasn’t what made it perfect for Mark. No, it was that a straitjacket and leg bindings were built into the design. Literally. Mark laid back on the sling and placed his legs against the straps suspending the bottom half of the sling from the ceiling. I lifted the heavy folds of leather around his upper body, sliding each arm into their leather prisons before tightly buckling his body in. I then did the same to each leg - thick leather and bindings totally encased each one. There was no way he could escape, his ass accessible and vulnerable. The quickest way to unlock someone’s full potential is to take away their control, and this sling did just that. Of course, it helped when the bottom wanted it - as the trail of dickslop from Mark’s hardening cock testified. I took my phone out of my pocket and dialled my assistant “Tell Dr Thörnkvist than I’ve found his specimen and he’s strapped in and good to go.” It didn’t take him long to arrive - he’d been waiting a long time for this moment to come. Dr Thörnkvist was a literal tree of a man, 6’ 7” and 120kg of pure muscle. He fitted all the sterotypes of a Nordic god - blue eyes, blond beard and hair - yet his remarkable alpha tattoos marked him out to be anything but the cliché of a pig in heat. And that was before mentioning the countless metal beads he’d had inserted along the length of his cock. He had turned his natural assets - an already punishingly thick and long pussy rammer - into a true monster of a cunt wrecker. Even I was intimidated by his girth, and his desire to use it. He came in wheeling a trolley he’d prepared a long time ago just in case of such an occasion as this. “Is this the one?” he asked me. “Yes, this is it. I’ve finally found someone who matches your needs. He might be a little but unwilling at first, but once you get started I think you’ll be amazed at just how much he wants it.” I replied. By now Mark was beginning to realise the situation he was. The drugs were no doubt just beginning to wear off, and his eyes opened wide as he saw the contents of the trolley - toys of every size from huge to freak, thick rubber gloves, an industrial fucking machine and finally, an evil looking piercing gun. He started to struggle against the confines of the sling and asked just what the fuck was going on. “Settle down Mark, it’s all out of your hands now… “Maybe you shouldn’t have been so keen to be fisted and have your limits pushed today, because that can have consequences you don’t always expect. My good friend the doctor here is going to take care of you from now on, isn’t that right Dr Thörnkvist?” The giant Viking stepped up to the sling and stared into Mark’s eyes. To say the Doctor must have filled Mark’s vision was an understatement. Not that he looked much like a doctor - a thick leather harness framed his naked chest and shoulders, and his hefty package were framed by a pair of semi-translucent rubber jeans. (He had to have them specially made to hold his junk, though that didn’t mean they did anything to contain the constant stream of thick fucksauce leaking from his bloated dick head). The doctor took over. He reached down with one hand and grabbed Mark’s hole, using his thick fingers to test and tease it. “This is exactly what I’ve been looking for - a pre-worked hole that’s capable of so much more. A hole coupled to a pig that doesn’t know it yet, a pig waiting to be born. I’m going to take this hole and turn it into something very special. I’m going to start with a series of inhumanly sized toys - each with hard ridges, veins and fat bumps - that will give you new pussy lips that are fleshy and puffy. From them on, your new cuntflaps will receive almost constant attention - whether from my hands or a specially designed fuck machine. That sling means you really won’t be able to get away - and I’ll lock you to the machine for hours at a time. I’ll start by prying your hole open with a thick veiny cuntbuster and then let the machine get to work. As long as the toy is deep inside of your hole, and there’s no surplus lube around your cuntflaps, it really only needs to move a couple of inches back and forth to really pump those fuckers up. After each machine session I’ll attach an electric rosebud pump to your new pussy. Within days you’ll have lips that are permanently stretched, within a fortnight you’ll have lips that stick out an inch - at least - away from your twat. Big thick lips that totally surround your cunt. When you’re not being stretched out, those new pussy lips of yours are going to constantly rub against each other. Everyday friction will arouse you and bring you to a constant state of ffucklust. Walking is going to be a real challenge from now on… It’s at this moment, this moment of complete pussification, that I’ve long been waiting for… You see, I’ve always wanted to jack off my big cock inside another’s manhole. Just the thought of it makes my cock twitch and leak dickslop. Yet as you can see my cock is huge - even the sloppiest pro-holes cry out when I slam my junk into their cunts. And as for my hands… well, I’ve never met anyone with bigger fists than mine.” At this moment, the doctor held up his outstretched hands to Mark. It was true, he really did have monster mitts. They were the only part of his body that weren’t in proportion - everything else from his muscles to his big cock and balls perfectly fitted his massive frame. His hands looked as if they came from a freak. A giant freak. Something that the look of terror in Mark’s eyes could easily attest to. “So you can imagine just what a challenge it is for me to find anyone capable of being my wank sheath… I’ve never even got close, and I want to wank my dick inside of a pig’s hole so badly. To feel soft cunt flesh mould itself around my cuntrammer whilst my hand rides the full eleven inches of my fuck stick? Christ, I’m going to use your hole like a speed ball! I know I’m big, I know that by fist wanking in a guy’s hole I’ll permanently wreck them, but who cares when they’re going to get the reward of my thick, creamy, alpha load?! I’ve got it all planned out. You will be a case study that will go down as one of the true greats in the annuals of fisting. The application of science into making you fit for my pleasure. You see I realised that to meet my goals, it wasn’t enough to just push my cock and fist into a hole. No, an equal and opposing pulling force needed to be applied at the same time. So that’s exactly what I’m going to do - by piercing your new one inch thick cuntflaps with these giant hollow grommets. Three on each side should do it… Then I’ll thread thick rope through your new lips and pull your cunt so far open you won’t believe it. It will be a real punishing stretch, but give it time and I’ll be jacking off in your cunt daily!” Mark had been listening to all of this intently. I knew I had made a good choice - he may have whimpered and shook his head - but his hard dick continued to leak dickslop onto the floor. I knew he wanted it. “Don’t worry Mark. Just think what a loose crater the doctor is going turn your hole into. You’ll be able to take his double fists - and his dick - in no time at all!” @justanotherff writes HOT fisting stories. Check out his blog. -- source link

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