Doctor Ryder and Mister Buck
Copyright z119z (z119z2000@yahoo.com) Originally written in 2006, revised in 2008
It was time, Doctor Ryder decided, to beta-test the latest toy. He had been programming it for three months now, and the recent results were promising. Both the software and hardware were producing the desired modifications in output, and the signs were encouraging that the optimal behavioral patterns had been induced. His patience and hard work were being rewarded--again. At most it might be necessary from time to time to tinker with the design and make minor adjustments in the toy's conditioning. A session of positive reinforcement and neuro-linguistic programming once a month would keep the device performing at its peak. The buyer could simply connect the toy to his computer and run the update. Of course, the biological components would wear out more quickly--Doctor Ryder gave them twenty years, perhaps twenty-five with luck, but then the toy could be recycled to provide other services. It could become a servant or an office assistant.
At first he had put the trainee into a trance every other day, gradually accustoming it to associate the trances with a feeling of wonderful euphoria. The doctor had begun with simple connections. Pleasure came from being entranced. Pleasure came from obedience. Every time the subject submitted, it felt pleasure. It enjoyed obeying the doctor. It wanted to please the doctor. It felt better than it ever had before, and the deeper the trance, the better it felt. Soon the trance had become a feedback loop. It literally was unable to resist. Its entire body and mind hungered to be hypnotized. More than anything else, it wanted the intense feelings that had come to be available to it only through a trance. Only the trance brought it such explosive ejaculations, the mounting excitement capped by the waves and waves of orgasm, each stronger than the previous one. Ordinary intercourse with a human female, not to mention the paltry relief of masturbation, could not begin to compare in intensity or strength. Hypnosis, and the pleasures it brought, had become an addiction for the subject. And Doctor Ryder was happy to feed that addiction.
When Ryder felt that his control over the subject was secure, he had moved on to other things, implanting suggestions and letting them mature. Over the past week, he had grown increasingly certain that the subject was ready for testing. That afternoon, the subject was lying totally entranced, eyes focused on the ceiling above it, intent on the succession of swirling colors projected on it, as the doctor's soft voice took it deeper and deeper. Its muscular body was relaxed, arms resting at its sides, legs spread apart, its facial muscles slack. As it had been trained, it had removed its clothing. Upon entering the training room, whatever it was wearing became an intolerable burden, heavy, hot, itchy. It couldn't abide wearing any article of clothing. It became comfortable only when it removed all of its clothes and lay down nude on that wonderfully comfortable bed and watched as the kaleidoscope of spiraling colors emptied its mind of all thought.
Doctor Ryder had finished the conditioning regimen, and now it was time to reward the subject. "Think back to this morning. You were lying on this bed, watching the colors on the ceiling, as they flowed into each other, ever changing. So relaxed. So comfortable. Your mind was empty, without thought, totally carefree. You were deep in trance. You had learned your lessons very well, and as a reward, you were given an orgasm. It was the strongest orgasm you have ever had in your life. Now when I say the trigger, you are going to have another orgasm. It will be twice as strong as the orgasm you had this morning. Only through these trances can you have such orgasms. Only by going deeply into trance and obeying all the commands given you can you have such orgasms. You have done very well this afternoon. This is your reward, your reward for going so deeply into trance and obeying all the commands given you. Now, initiate orgasm sequence."
The subject's cock immediately grew erect and rigid. Its stomach muscles rippled as the first of what would be many waves of increasing pleasure flowed through its body. Each cycle of the programming took it to a higher level of excitement. Not a sound escaped from its lips as the sequence of sensations programmed into it over several weeks followed their inexorable course. At the end the subject's entire body arched off the bed, only its heels and the back of its head touching the mattress. Even muscle in its body was taut and quivering from tension as stream after stream jetted out of its cock, spurting onto its face and covering its abdomen and chest with glistening cum. Not once had the subject touched his cock. The doctor had not had to issue a single prompt. The programming had been carried out in every detail.
The subject's body collapsed on the bed, once again totally relaxed. It lay there for exactly sixty seconds before arising and walking to the shower cubicle in the corner of the room. There it had washed itself clean. Then it stood quietly while the two attendants spread shaving cream over its entire body and shaved it smooth. For half an hour, the only sound in the room was the scraping of the razors against its skin and the occasional command from the attendants telling it to raise its arms or to bend over and spread its cheeks. At the end it knelt down so that the hair on its head could be clipped off and then shaved down to the scalp. A quick shower removed the remains of the shaving cream. The attendants examined the subject's body and whisked away a few outstanding hairs. A light application of an emollient oil left the subject's body gleaming. The head attendant signaled the doctor that the subject was ready to be inspected, and then he and the other assistant left the room.
The faint aroma of soap rose from the subject's body. The skin glistened in the light, still glowing pink from the hot shower. The subject's musculature was extraordinary. Every muscle was defined and separately outlined. It could serve as an anatomy lesson if the doctor ever wanted to share it with his colleagues. The subject's pecs were precisely to the doctor's taste. The bottom edges were perfect half circles, and the line continued upward smoothly to form the outside arch of the muscle. The inside edges etched two parallel lines over the sternum. The nipples were centered in the swelling of the muscle, the aureoles dark in color and large. The subject's newly shaved stomach and groin exposed every abdominal muscle to the doctor's gaze. The thighs and buttocks were full and rounded. As the subject moved, the muscles shifted under its skin as they contracted and relaxed.
The doctor had waited years for such perfection to come his way. Years of developing his technique on inferior specimens in the hope that one day he would find someone worthy of his studies. And finally he had. Some trifling sports injury had brought the subject to him. What was its name? He couldn't remember. Well, it no longer mattered. As soon as the young man had stripped that first day in his examination room, he knew that at least physically the desired specimen had come to him. The injury had been quickly dealt with, and the doctor had recommended a series of vitamin shots, along with a course in "relaxation and visualization techniques" to help prevent similar problems in the future. He had spoken with just enough professional authority, relying on his reputation as a sports doctor and miracle worker to overcome any objections the subject might have. A shot of "vitamins" had introduced enough of the drug into its system to lower the barriers to hypnosis. Several sessions had shown that it was a good subject. His insurance even paid for the doctor's "treatments." Sports medicine supplied the doctor not only with a generous income but also a steady source of willing applicants.
The subject was so lucky; it had come to just the right man. No other doctor would have made as good a use of it as he would. And now it was apparently his, his for whatever purposes he chose. Well, he had waited this long. He could wait another few hours. One of Carlos's excellent dinners, a glass or two of that Merlot he had bought on his last trip to California, one of those excellent Cuban cigars, and the contemplation of his plans for the subject would make the subject's deflowering even more enjoyable.
The doctor allowed himself to stroke the subject's body briefly. It was a very nice body, more than nice. He smiled to himself. "Very good. You will not wear clothes again. You detest clothing. It would make you feel ill to wear clothes of any sort. Even the lightest silk briefs would make you nauseous. Do your afternoon exercises and then return to your room. Make yourself clean and then come to my study in the main house tonight at 10."
Precisely at 10:00 Carlos knocked on the door to the study. "Your evening appointment has arrived, Sir."
"Thank you, Carlos. The entrecote was excellent by the way. A perfect choice for this evening. I will not require anything else tonight. I will see you in the morning."
"Then I will wish you a good evening, Sir." Carlos held the door open to allow the subject to enter and then closed it silently. The subject stood nude before the doctor. The doctor was pleased to see that it had oiled its body lightly. On its head, only a black glaze marked where the once-luxuriant growth of hair had been removed. "At ease." The subject immediately stood with its legs spread a foot apart and its hands behind its back at waist level. Its head was pulled back, and its eyes stared unseeing straight ahead.
Ryder reminded himself that this was the easy part. The physical commands that brought the subject to his study did not interfere with the subject's original mindset. The reprogramming of the subject, the changing of its sexual orientation, the imposition of submissiveness and obedience- -these were much harder to achieve. It had required much work on the subject. Now he would see how successful his efforts had been.
Ryder got up from behind his desk and crossed the room to the fireplace. As he walked across the room, the subject turned to follow him, keeping itself available to the doctor. Ryder allowed himself a few moments to enjoy the subject's body. It had been a good selection, well worth the investment of his time and energies.
He opened the humidor on the mantel and selected a cigar. As he pulled it from the humidor, he glanced into the mirror over the fireplace and saw that the subject's eyes were frozen on the cigar in his hand. Very good. Very promising indeed, thought Ryder. As he went through the ritual of rolling the cigar between his fingers and cutting the end, the subject's eyes never left it. As the doctor moistened the end of the cigar, the subject's lips parted slightly and the tip of its tongue licked them. Ryder took his time lighting the cigar. The subject's attention never wavered. Ryder inhaled slowly and felt the smoke enter his mouth. He held it for a few seconds, and then exhaled. The smoke drifted lazily from his mouth, gray-white eddies of smoke rising from between his lips and ascending.
As the smoke appeared, deep in the subject's mind, a response was triggered. Without thought or a conscious decision on the subject's part, its cock grew rigid and erect. The trigger had worked. "Very good." The subject groaned as a wave of pleasure, more pleasure than it had ever felt before in its life, flowed through its body. Another trigger had worked. The doctor sat down and quietly smoked for several minutes, as the subject grew more and more excited. His eyes were blinking rapidly, and his cock stood straight up. "Eyes closed. Trance." The subject instantly relaxed. Its mind grew blank, as the now-familiar feeling of warmth and security overcame its mind.
The doctor stood up and allowed himself to stroke the subject's body. But patience, patience, he counseled himself. The pleasures of success would come soon enough. He went through the doorway at the back of the study and into his private room. He removed his smoking jacket and hung it in the closet. The tie came off next, followed by his shoes and the rest of his clothing. The doctor has "left the building," he thought. From the closet he pulled out a pair of black boots. The shine on them was impeccable. The aromas of the leather and the polish aroused memories of pleasures past.
The boots had been crafted to his exact measurements from the softest of glove leather. They fit his feet and calves so well that they slid on, encasing his legs up to his knees in shiny black leather. He paused for a second to look in the mirror. The curves of the boots caught the dim light in the room and converted it into a series of sinuous curves and lines. Mister Buck had arrived.
He returned to his study and sat down again. He picked up the cigar, crossing his legs and resting his left ankle on his right knee. The subject stood relaxed before him. "Eyes open." It took only a second for the subject to notice the boots. It dropped to its hands and knees and knelt at his feet, gazing hungrily at the boots. Mister Buck drew on the cigar and blew the smoke over the subject. As the smoke circled its head and it breathed it in, it moaned with excitement. "Quiet. There is to be no noise." Mister Buck slowly moved his left foot back and forth before the subject's eyes. "Lick."
The subject's tongue glistened in the light as it began to lick the boots, covering every inch methodically from top to bottom, as it had been programmed to do. Back and forth it licked the boots, pausing only occasionally to take a deep breath and then to continue. Mister Buck lifted his right leg straight out, and the subject dutifully and without hesitation began to lick the soles of the boots. "Very good." The subject shuddered with pleasure. Mindless ecstasy swept over it. "Good doggy." The embedded commands were working so well. It was a credit to his training.
"Woof." The subject pressed its groin against Mister Buck's boots, its rigid cock rubbed back and forth over the boots. Its eyes rolled back into its head, and it began to pant with excitement, its mouth hanging open, its tongue lolling out. Its thrusts became uncontrolled as it mounted the boots. It would not, Mister Buck knew, orgasm unless he gave the command. He did not even need to test that. "Stop." The subject froze.
"Bad doggie. It has soiled my boots." The subject pressed itself against the floor in abject submission, its body trembling in expectation of punishment. "Bad, bad doggie." Buck crossed to his desk and pulled a cleaning kit from a drawer. "Clean up the mess you have made." The subject took the leather bag from him. When Buck had sat down again, it began to clean his boots. Lovingly, it rubbed the leather cleaner into the boots and them wiped them cleaned. When it had finished, it carefully spread a layer of polish on each boot and then buffed them to a high gloss with the brushes. Its eyes signaled its thanks to Mister Buck for allowing it to serve him in this way.
"Doggie has done very well. Good doggies get a reward." The subject grinned in anticipation. The videos had trained it to understand the concept of reward. Mister Buck reached forward and petted it on the head. He leaned back in the chair and picked up his cigar again. "Begin." The subject obediently moved forward to his crotch and began to lick. Mister Buck enjoyed the remainder of his cigar as the pet's demonstrated that it how well it had learned its lessons, how very well indeed.
To Mister Buck's taste, the smoke of even the best cigar began to degenerate in quality when only three inches remained. He took a final draw and then tossed it into the fireplace. As the subject's head slowly rose and fell between his legs, he contemplated the rounded globes of its perfect ass. Amazing to think that this subject had never sucked a cock before. Its technique was definitely first rate, just the right amount of pressure and suction to arouse but not so much as to bring about a climax prematurely.
"Come." The subject obediently followed Mister Buck into the next room. "Kneel down on the bed. Spread your legs and raise your ass in the air." Mister Buck spread a film of lubricant between the subject's ass. As he touched the subject's anus, he felt it tense and draw away slightly. "Relax. All pleasure comes from satisfying me." He spread more lubricant on his fingers and softly stroked the subject's anus to accustom it to the new sensation that was coursing through its body, speaking softly to it and awakening its programming. Gradually the subject relaxed.
His cock had grown flaccid while he had been preparing the subject. "Suck." The subject turned around and took his cock in its mouth. "A little harder. Make my cock hard." The reaction was more than he expected. The subject had very strong mouth and throat muscles. "Stop. Turn around again. Good. Now lower your ass just a little. Very good. Now relax."
As he had expected, the subject's rectum was very tight. It gasped as he entered it. Well, that was to be expected the first time. "Quiet. No noise now. You enjoy this." The subject twisted his head around and smiled. Buck thrust his cock all the way in and stood without moving to let the subject adjust to the pressure. But instead of just allowing Buck's cock to rest unmoving, the subject squeezed its sphincter muscles and tightened them around the cock. The feeling was incredible and so unexpected that Buck groaned with pleasure and surprise. And then the subject slowly began to move back and forth so that all Buck had to do was stand there as it fucked itself, exerting just enough pressure to keep Buck erect but not so much as to bring him to orgasm yet.
Mister Buck thought to himself that he must remember to thank Doctor Ryder tomorrow for the excellence of his training. Tonight, he did not think he would have the time or the energy to express his appreciation.