AGAINST THE MACHINE
CHAPTER SIX by Riley Jericho rileyjericho@yahoo.com
Noah woke. His mouth felt dry and his head throbbed slightly.
Crap -- what time was it?
He opened his eyes, expecting to see Donny still asleep as usual, or at least the white ceiling. The ceiling? Yes, it was white, but it wasn't the right one. He heard movement. Turning his head to the left he saw a man standing at some unknown computer thing. For a moment he felt completely disorientated.
This wasn't his bedroom, or any place in the care home. Where was he? Why couldn't he move his arms or legs? Who was this man?
He sniffed and his nose flared. It didn't even smell like his bedroom!
Then, in a rush, it all came flooding back.
He'd been restricted to his room all day and most of the day before; on lockdown after they'd picked him up at the Mall. He hadn't really been running away -- at least not this time -- but he'd been in no hurry to get back either; that was the truth!
They'd been a bit pissed. He had been told earlier that morning that there was to be a `meeting'; they were probably downstairs in the office, talking about him right now! Crap - he hoped it wouldn't end up him having to be hypo-ed!
Secretly, he'd stopped taking the tablets. Quite a number of kids here were put on tablets, but they made him feel lethargic and tired, and at school it was hard to concentrate and keep up. The tablets were crap!
But if you weren't taking them like you were meant to and they found out, then they would do you with the hypo instead. Donny was on the hypo now; these days he just sat around all the time staring at the TV, hardly saying anything. Or slept. For a while now, he'd been secretly palming the crappy things and flushing them down the bog; maybe that's what they were mad about?
He'd fretted for ages before the door opened and one of the assistants had come to get him. He was one that was usually nice enough, but this time he didn't speak. Crap -- maybe even he was pissed! The man kept a handgrip firmly on his shoulder as he'd guided him to the office where they were all waiting.
He hated the office; you only went in there when you were in trouble. They were upset at first, reminding him how bad he'd been by running away and by being rude to others. He guessed they'd figured out about the tablets too. There were more there than he expected, and a few he'd never seen in his life before. But it made him even more nervous when suddenly they changed tack and seemed to want to be nice!
They sat him on a comfy little sofa and the old hag came and sat next to him; the care home director. Nasty cow she was; smelly cow too and her BO made his nose wrinkle. She put her arm around him -- eeewww -- and started saying how important he was to everyone.
He'd almost burst out laughing!
They said that they'd talked a lot about him and only wanted to help. They'd all agreed it would be for the best. He'd looked around the plush room suspiciously. What would be for the best?
They said that they were going to send him somewhere for a few days and he relaxed a bit. A different care home? A new foster family? Perhaps that was who the new people were? He didn't care; anything would be better than where he was! He'd asked them about getting his things, but they'd looked a little uncomfortable.
The old hag took his hold of his hands as if to comfort him but, too late, he saw the nasty glint in her eyes. Instinctively, he tried to pull away but she gripped him hard. Then he'd felt a pinch on his neck.
Crap! They hypo-ed me after all, he grunted. Now he was gonna end up like Donny!
But he began to feel dizzy. This wasn't anything like the tablets! He struggled, feeling panicky as the room swam.
It went black.
He remembered waking up in another place; one he'd never been to before - strapped to some medical bed. It had been really scary. Was this what they'd meant about helping him?
Then the rest of it tumbled into place. Some 'procedure' he was being given; and the man who was watching him -- he'd been there too; the Attendant that had put the funny ring on him, like he had with all the others.
And Jack. He remembered Jack now -- the nice man.
Despite all that had happened to him, he felt surprisingly calm; almost detached. "Oh, sorry," he yawned widely. "I must have drifted off again."
He twisted his head to fully scope out the room. "Where's Jack?"
The Attendant turned and smiled. "You're awake!"
"Jack's still sleeping I'm afraid. You'll be able to see him later again," he added. "How are you feeling, anyway?" he continued, checking the boy's vital signs again to see that core brain activity was back within norms.
Noah yawned again. "Oh...OK...a little bit of a headache - not too bad though. And a bit tired. Hungry too. When's dinner?"
The Attendant nodded, satisfied; the boy had come through it well. The headache was pretty normal too; a legacy of 3.5 hours of brain burning. Dinner was off, though, as he would be put to sleep shortly, to remain unconscious for up to 15 hours; the first of the extended periods of conditioning the Machine would embark upon.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-
Normally it took anything from three to five hours to complete the process of Synaptic Remodeling. Everyone was a little different and it couldn't be hurried in any way. There was little point in standing there watching and he would usually leave them to the care of the Machine -- often to go to attend to some other group that was also under his care.
When the Remodeling was completed, he would finally be able to disconnect each of them from the umbilical in the knowledge that ongoing access to their minds was already assured.
One by one he would move them from the Treatment Room to a place where they could be stored and monitored over the long hours of reconditioning. Each couch would be docked into a receiving bay where it fitted within a larger containment module. The module carried all the monitoring equipment, including its own umbilical and mating collar, and its incumbent was then squirreled away somewhere by a computerised storage procedure.
And so it was with this group. Whilst each had lain comatose through the Remodeling phase, he had worked to help prepare the new batch that had arrived today, wielding brush and solutions to clean them up ready for the medical inspections. He would see those new ones again soon when he walked into the Treatment Room the day after tomorrow. As their couches raised them up, they would see him and know it was beginning for them too.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-
Group M-9985201 had now completed the Remodeling phase and he'd begun transferring them from the Treatment Room to the holding areas. As wasn't uncommon, a few woke up in-between one thing and the next, but most just continued to sleep through.
He was glad that the boy was awake though and raised the backrest once more so that Noah could see and he could give him some water to drink. The boy's arms were still bound to the couch, but he swallowed, gulping down gratefully as the Attendant offered up a straw. It didn't really matter how much he drunk as, over the next few days in stasis, the various computers and maintenance systems would keep him fed and hydrated, and dispose of any waste.
"You know, Jack asked me to ask you if you wanted to come and stay with him for a while after this. Maybe just while you both get properly better. Would you like that?"
"Stay with him?" replied Noah. "With Jack? At his house for a bit, you mean?"
The Attendant nodded.
"That's so weird!"
He suspected what was coming, but left Noah to finish his thought.
"It's just that that's so funny!" Noah continued, smiling brightly. "so actually had a dream about that as well...perhaps it's meant to be! It might be nice though..."
"Well, there you go then," confirmed the Attendant.
It was perhaps one of the small mercies of Synaptic Remodeling that none ever remembered it; the memory of the burning white fire and agonizing distress was completely wiped, lest it become a psychological scar that even the best conditioning couldn't eradicate. The Machine could be reasonably selective about memory deletion, but the mind was a funny thing and it wasn't an exact science. For some it meant that much of the time in the Treatment Room became a bit blurred; the fuzziness increasing closer to the initiation of Synaptic Remodeling. That the boy could only remember their previous conversation on this topic as dream was not surprising.
Noah may not have remembered it, but he in the meantime had been busy and had already been in contact with the Social Care Administrate, expressing what he felt would be in the interests of his patients! It was one of the benefits of his job, his seniority, and particularly the fact that he represented the Centre for Emotional Wellness that few people in other government departments cared much to argue with him.
If that's what he wanted, that's what he usually got.
It was made easier in that the SCA also knew that, with this case, they could bypass the normally strict assessment procedures for potential adopting parents - mainly because the Attendant proposed that the Machine would easily condition the man to be an ideal candidate for the job! That said, he was already fairly sure there were no hidden dangers in the man's psyche when it came to taking on the parenting of this boy - and even if anything showed up, it would be programmed out.
He was confidant that wasn't needed here... in fact, very little was needed.
For both of man and boy, there were bad memories that had emotionally scarred them, but those scars could be healed. The worst of the memories would be annulled, but not all. There were good memories too, and even some of the painful ones could be good if they could be understood and managed in the right way. Sad wasn't always bad, not if it helped you to appreciate the good things that you now had.
At a profoundly deep level, the man had lost confidence in himself, carrying a guilt that it had been he that had survived whilst his wife and child had perished; deep down believing he had failed them at the time they needed him most. It had emotionally throttled him over many subsequent years and he'd never been able to form caring relationships since.
That is until this boy touched his life.
All these things could and would be looked into as part of the reconditioning but, other than that, he only needed -- literally - to be needed. At the same time, the Attendant planned to load the bases! He would programme in a strong affinity between the pair; a sense of belonging together; of love. He planned that they could -- and would - do well.
Playing God? No, he didn't see it that way. It was part of the treatment plan and, by the time the conditioning was complete, he expected that the bonded relationship between the two would be another foregone conclusion!
The boy glanced critically at his flaccid penis and at the metallic ring buried comfortably in the sulcus. "Does this come off before I go home?" he wondered aloud.
The Attendant shook his head. "No, Noah, that just has to stay there now. But, don't worry - you'll hardly notice it after a while. Anyway, it can do some really cool things for you!"
Cool things? Maybe...or maybe not. Whether what came now in their lives was 'cool' depended on your point of view, and was a prime point of contention for those opposed to this treatment.
Frankly, for the boy (as it would be for all of the twelve), this small circle of metal was now his one and only route to enjoy any of the experiences or pleasures of sexuality. Traditional expressions of sex would be impossible -- either alone or with a partner. It was impossible even to gain an erection without the Machine, which was now the one that controlled all the pleasure circuits of the higher brain cortex. Alone in their rooms - if they had a mind to - they could frantically rub all they liked, but there could be no arousal; nothing would swell; nothing would spurt. Never again could they become erect of their own will or by any other form of visual or manual stimulus with the hope it might lead to climax and ejaculation.
It was pretty straightforward now. They just simply couldn't anymore!
Even if they tried to combine the two by connecting to the Machine whilst bedding a girl - apart from the slight problem that the umbilical got in the way (although they were looking at solving that) - the hard fact was this; even if they did wear the ring and tried to engage in a sexual encounter - penetrative or not - with a female, the girl knew it was actually the Machine he was making love to (and vice-versa), not her.
And that was quite hard to swallow!
On the other hand, the Machine could create sexual experiences for those who were mated to it that were unheard of by those who had never known its caress.
What was better? He had no idea. In that respect, he could no longer remember anything about what was before the time the Machine first made its union with him. It felt right. Isn't that all that mattered he wondered about it as he slid off the umbilical from the control; preparing to mate the boy again prior to putting him to sleep once more. Noah looked somewhat apprehensive, still able to recall some of the early parts of his last time with that little collar.
"Do you have to put that thing on again...it's not very nice really!" he muttered.
The Attendant grinned confidently. "Believe me, young man, this is now nothing like it was before. It will never hurt again. In fact, trust me, you're going to love it!"
"Does it always fit on there?" Noah asked, still not convinced, nodding to his small ring.
"Yes, it does."
"Will Jack always have one too?"
"He sure will...you'll be like two peas in a pod!" the Attendant laughed.
The boy thought about it a moment. "That will be OK then. I was a bit worried about going back to the home, 'cos they might think it weird, or laugh, or something. But if we're the same, it won't really matter will it? I think staying with Jack for a bit will be a good idea," he decided.
The kid was so cute!
Again, the Attendant wondered whether any of this had been necessary for the boy. Didn't he just need someone who cared about him? Well, it was much too late for that. What was done was done and there could be no going back now.
One thing the boy would not need to worry about though, was feeling embarrassed about having the implants or being mated to the Machine. The conditioning saw to that and, within a few days, he would actually be perfectly happy to drop his trousers without a second thought if it were required. Getting them to remember to put them on in the first place was more of a challenge!
It's not that those treated like this became exhibitionists; it's just that they would be conditioned not to feel awkward or sensitive about their new physical attributes and sexual identity.
It would be their life now.
He gently slipped on the collar and, after a moment of hesitancy, Noah squeaked with delight as the Machine initiated the low level orgasmic discharge that he had learned to enjoy.
"Now that's really nice!" he agreed as his breathing began to deepen. He relaxed and flushed slightly as the Machine caressed him again. This time, it was not at all like he had worried it might be. In fact, it was quite a surprise - a really, really good surprise!
It certainly didn't hurt or make him feel desperate or tense. He just suddenly felt really good - a deep down incredible good; damn sexy good, in fact! It was almost as if he was watching from a distance. It was him, but then it wasn't him. It was a bit confusing, but with feelings like this, who cared!
And then the nice buzzing extended to his willy and, as he watched it, something other than him decided it was going to grow again. The feeling was delicious as he stiffened up.
"There," smiled the Attendant with a smirk. "That didn't take long did it?"
Noah grinned shyly. "Why did it do that?"
"The Machine did it Noah - it likes to make you feel good," he replied.
"It can do this too!" he added as he touched the screen to gradually increase the degree of cortical stimulation. Noah gasped and his back arched as the stimulation grew and, physically, every part of his body seemed alive and dancing to the tune that was being played. It was a new tune to him, but he found himself quickly joining in the song as the Machine made love to him.
Slowly the Attendant lowered him down flat again and the Machine continued to bring him close to orgasm, but not quite to release. A classic Machine - engineered experience, it was able to create a sensation similar to the ecstatic feeling most men have just on the brink of ejaculation; but one that just never ended. It could keep this up for hours and in such a way that the individual would never tire of the stimulation.
Noah continued to shudder and groan in pleasure as fluid welled up and dripped from the end of his small circumcised glans. The Attendant watched him fondly, glad to see how quickly the boy had seemed to adapt to the new situation; it would make the upcoming task of conditioning much easier for the Machine. He could tell Noah would take to a new way of life easily enough.
"And it can do this," he whispered into the boy's ear, as the Machine set off the deep and satisfying ejaculation. Not the screamingly painful one of a few hours ago, but one that consumed the boy with beautiful pleasure and took him gently back into unconsciousness in preparation for conditioning.
The Attendant smiled and locked the couch into the docking module. The sides came up into position to keep him from falling out, and the Attendant finally released the arm and leg restraints.
Childlike and peaceful now, the boy slept and the Attendant drew a sheet across him to keep him comfortable. As the machinery drew him away to rest for a while, he rolled comfortably over onto his side, still connected via the umbilical, dreaming of a new life that was coming.
He processed the rest, and most slept through it, including Jack, who snored slightly. At least it made him human - or mostly human - the Attendant smirked to himself!
One that woke that he really would have preferred to stay comatose, was the Hispanic lad.
Once he had got his voice back.....which was dry and cracked, he launched streams of venom at the Attendant. Still, it was his duty to care, so the Attendant lifted him upright and gave him something to drink. The teen drank deeply for himself and then took another mouthful and spat it at him. Fortunately he wasn't too good a shot on that occasion either, and it mostly went over his clinical coat.
Pulling angrily at his restraints, the young man looked to his groin and realised he was no longer tethered to the umbilical.
"FUCK YOU!" he screamed in triumph. "So it failed after all; the fucking Machine couldn't do it. And now you're as good as dead!" he threatened. He had no idea how he would escape - but he would. And he'd cut the balls off this fucking fairy and jam them down his throat.
The Attendant watched him dispassionately. It was a common mistake those that came out of the phase of Synaptic Remodeling often made; feeling pretty much as they had before they came to the Centre, it didn't seem as if anything had changed.
Again, it only seemed that way!
Perhaps, by this time, they were expecting to be zombies of some description, or they would no longer able to remember who they were? The assumption was that the process had failed on them - just as this Hispanic boy, Carlos, clearly believed!
The Attendant had been irritated with him since he first arrived. Like all of them, he'd tried to give Carlos his best professional attention, but now he just lost patience at last and decided to end the matter.
"Oh, I shouldn't worry," he said softly, "I think everything went pretty smoothly. Shall I show you?"
The boy looked confused; rebuffed by the lack of concern the Attendant seemed to hold. A touch of dread touched him as the umbilical was slipped out and he was mated to the Machine once more.
The Attendant only very slightly regretted doing this to him as he instructed the Machine to disable the normal erection response; a simple case of manipulating human physiology. For a man who was not used to the Machine (and certainly before there had been any conditioning to reorient his thinking), this could be incredibly off-putting and disturbing. Sex without an erection was outside of their normal experience.
With this major external and physical sign of arousal fully disabled, the psychological impact remained as the cortical arousal flew into action. He didn't stand a chance. However hard he desperately willed something else, it seemed to happen without him. The Machine showed him pleasure too, as it jolted him again and again.
He frantically searched inside himself for some answer to his dilemma, but found nothing as he was brought closer and closer to climax. Such was the complete and utter control over him, it was a mere 15 seconds later, and with a completely soft penis, that his toes curled and he squealed, "Oh God....Nnnnggghh......!" and ejaculated spectacularly; a rapid and rhythmical pumping flushing his semen onto the couch where his long flaccid member hung.
With a look of dismay and resignation as he came down from the orgasm, all he could say was, "Oh Fuck...!" and then the Machine dropped him into oblivion. The Attendant wiped up the mess and sent him on his way.
Coming to the end now, the Attendant massaged a tight muscle on his shoulder. It had been a long day. Tiring in ways he hadn't expected.
"Where's Ben?"
The voice was dull, filled with loss and failure. He turned slowly to observe the owner, Nathan, the elder of the two young homosexual boys. The last of his charges, the Attendant had assumed he was asleep like most of the others, and had been busy setting up the docking module.
"He's asleep, Nathan."
"Asleep and being changed, you mean. Conditioning -- reorientation. Isn't that what you all call it ...?" Nathan replied with soft bitterness and self-recrimination. "It wasn't his fault! He was only fourteen for God's sake and I let him down and now I've ruined his life!"
"Nathan, you knew what had to happen. There's no point in doing this to yourself now."
"Who said it had to happen?" Nathan demanded angrily. "You? Someone else? We weren't harming anyone. We were doing well in school and everything else. What was so wrong?"
"It's the law Nathan," the Attendant replied simply. "Sex between boys is wrong." As he spoke, he once more mated the boy to the Machine.
Nathan didn't even seem to notice the connection being made again.
"Wrong? WRONG?!" he shouted. "I can't help it...I love him -- how can that be wrong!" He was flushed and emotional. "And anyway, how the hell would you know? It's just a job to you!" he cried.
With the freedom that only comes to those who are conditioned, the Attendant sighed and gently slipped down his loose medical slacks and underwear to reveal the outcome of his own personal confrontation with the Machine - the smooth skin where hair never grew anymore and the still tight circumcision. A simple metallic ring nestled into his sulcus.
"You?" breathed Nathan, aghast, and then after a moment staring at the Attendant in confusion, he added, "Why?"
"His name was Lucas," the Attendant offered with a shrug.
"You? You're... gay?" Nathan whispered in disbelief.
The Attendant nodded, his eyes flickering with memories lost.
"Then...yes. They said I...we...had homosexual tendencies," he added softly. It seemed a distant thing now. "But I still saw him afterwards -- for a while. We stayed friends, just like you and Ben could still be friends."
"But didn't you want more than 'just friends'?" Nathan burst out; tears now spilling down his anguished face.
For the first time in more years than he could remember, the Attendant felt a painful knot in his stomach. Could it have ever been different? Had he lost something; something more important than just a friend?
"For pity's sake, why are you doing this? You of all people?" the boy pleaded, his face awash with emotion. "You must know what you're doing to us? Didn't you love him?"
It was with an unexpected sadness that the Attendant stared back into the pain that once, a long time ago, had mirrored his own.
"I don't know," he admitted helplessly, touched by the despair. "So much changed...I...I...I can't even remember anymore why it was so important...."
As Nathan broke and sobbed, the Attendant lowered him into the darkness that would change him too, ensuring that he also forgot who he really was.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------- AGAINST THE MACHINE A story by Riley Jericho rileyjericho@yahoo.com