Chapter 3 003

The nurse finished cutting open one side of my jeans. Her hand brushed over my underwear – the standard lacy fronted g-string that more or less all free men wore in this society. My cock was already hard again, pushing my scant underwear up and out. The nurse peeked over at my penis, then flicked it hard, laughing to herself. The doctor tutted at her and arched an eyebrow. The nurse-slave sped up cutting away my last bits of clothing, snipping through each side of my underwear.

I stood naked and watched as the nurse loaded my clothing into the atomizer, where it was broken down and recycled. It felt different than the many other times I had been naked before women. On festival days all men went naked in public by custom, and we mostly swam and exercised naked too. A coworker had once taken me to the Temple of Matriarchy, where I had to put all my clothes in a locker before walking through the door with her.

But this wasn't the same at all. My brief foray into slavery as a younger man had been conducted entirely in private, alone in my then-in-girlfriend's apartment. Now I was bare and exposed because I didn't deserve clothing; I knew I would soon walk like this in public. I bore no illusions about my status now.

The nurse inspected my legs and massaged depilatory cream into them. Soon they were as smooth as silk. She moved up to my chest and armpits, ridding them of hair too. Next, she made sure I couldn't grow a beard. Losing my stubble made me feel ten years younger. In the mirror mounted in front of me, I looked more and more like I had the first time I'd left the family areas where we were brought up, some ten years before.

My backside was hairless anyway, but the nurse still depilated it. The cream suppressed follicles for months, so I knew it'd be a lot longer than my seventeen-week term before things started to grow back. I had shaved my pubes into the fashionable landing strip, but my cock and balls were already bare. It let women who looked know that I was willing to please, but still a man. I hated what was coming.

The nurse worked depilatory cream into my last strip of pubic hair. She took it away with a swift wipe of a cloth, and my cheeks began to burn bright red with shame. In the mirror, I no longer looked like a man. I was reduced to a boy, a ward of some dominant woman. I looked around at the doctor, who moved in front of me and looked me over.

"You look very sweet, child," she said. "How old are you?" she asked, though she knew the answer from my file.

"Twenty-eight, mistress," I answered.

"Well, you look almost eighteen again to me, young man, if not quite there yet. There's nothing like a completely smooth male. Are you a man, slave, or are you boy?"

I knew the right answer, of course, but I hesitated to answer. The doctor stood tapping her foot. She looked over to the wall, where a wicked riding crop hung from a peg. I met her eyes.

"I am a boy, mistress. A slaveboy."

"Quite right, just like nurse-slave Marissa here is a slave girl. Even if she is ten years older than I am." I thought that was odd, given how young the nurse looked, but the doctor went on, "Good work, slavegirl. He looks just the part. Now, ice his cock down and get it caged. Size 3, small-medium."

My heart sank. I'd known it would happen, but not so soon. The nurse-slave took a cold pack and let it get icy to the touch. I gasped as she thrust it into my crotch, then felt my cock shrivel down to an embarrassing size as the blood flowed out of it. Cold and numb, it hung down from between my shackled legs, small, limp, and lifeless.

The nurse-slave took out a size 3 diamond-metal cage – the "small-medium" one – and detached the ring. She slipped the ring around the base of my penis, clicking it closed behind my balls, then slid the cage over my shaft. It snapped into receivers in the ring, and then an unbreakable padlock of diamond metal locked it to me. Now my cock was controlled by any woman with the right DNA to open the lock.

The nurse-slave let the cage flop down, and as the heat returned to my penis, it expanded again but didn't fill the device. I had been shown my place. I was a naked, hairless slave boy with my cock locked in a little cage. The doctor looked at me and tapped some commands into her tablet. The chastity cage was infused with nanites, which turned it bright pink and formed a little satin bow over the padlock. I blushed, as I would many times again.

"Now, slave, let me explain what will happen next. You've been a slave before but I see that was in a different world. When you signed over control of your body to us, that included your health nanites. It also included the right for us to adapt your nanites to necessary purposes. That includes tracking, violence prevention, and the delivery of pain. It also includes changing your appearance.

"You've seen older slaves around, I'm sure. Graceful, grey-haired boys of advanced years with the wisdom of age in their eyes. We're fully stocked on those, but we've not had enough younger-looking males in recently. I know, I know, you're only twenty-eight, and some of those slaves are a hundred and fifty. But you, well, the tablet shows me you'd make a very pretty eighteen-year-old again."

The doctor took a hypo filled with new nanites and plunged it into my backside. It stung sharply as the nanites infused into my blood.

"You'll wait here for an hour while they do their work, but if you like I can let you down to your knees."

I nodded. The doctor and her nurse slave exited the room, and I was left to kneel while my body transformed. My muscles slimmed and reshaped, my face grew fresher and young again. My arms became thinner, as did my legs. The traces of body fat in my midriff disappeared and my ribs stood out again. My hair thickened a little, its brown follicles becoming wavier. The transformations happened without pain, just a slow, sickening sensation as my body reshaped itself. They let me feel every second of it, just to show me who controlled my whole body now.

After an hour, I looked in the mirror. There knelt a slave boy with an innocent charm. I found I couldn't stop blushing as the doctor and the nurse-slave re-entered the room. The nurse stood me back up and ran her hands over my skinny frame, sounding out little oohs and ahhs. She was excited by my new look.

"There," said the doctor, "now you could be bought by a mother who wants to give her daughter her very first slave now that she's come of age or some woman who will delight in your naive and innocent charms. And at least we didn't have to shrink your cock down like the size 6 who came in earlier. Slim slave boys like you need 3s and 4s. Oh, but you do blush so adorably. Did you know your psych profile works out to not be much older than this? I can't make you an actual virgin again, though I did set your nanites to make your hole nice and tight. That way someone can stretch you out tenderly again."

The doctor bade me be silent and busied herself with all manner of tests. She violated my newly tight hole with a finger, manually checking my prostate. All in order, apparently. She took blood samples and had me pee into a cup, looked over my teeth and tongue, and checked my hearing and vision. Everything was in good shape. I felt brilliant in my newly revitalized body. I was already horny as hell, my cock twitching with every new examination.

"For the final touches, then. We've updated your inoculations and tested your nervous responses. You're in excellent physical condition. I'm sure your new owner will be very happy. Now, you need a collar and some cuffs. Here, cuffs for your legs and cuffs for your wrists. And finally..."