Chapter 4 004

The doctor opened a drawer full of gleaming diamond-metal collars. She found the right size and opened it, then pushed me down to the floor so that I knelt before her. I found myself looking at her pretty feet. I desperately wanted to kiss them, but couldn't bend that far. Without a word, she closed the collar around my neck and let it fuse shut. Only an enslavement center could refuse it.

"Oh, you'll make a very fine slaveboy. Now for your microchip and your tattoos."

I stood again and her micro-chipping needle slid into my neck, embedding a chip that could be scanned by the authorities to provide full details of my registration, identity, and ownership. The doctor took an auto-tattoo gun and had it imprint the word "slave" on my belly, then used it to draw on a barcode beneath. I could be called by my given name for the time being or a shortened designation, but officially I was now Slave KF-M-3-28-18-238357465. The designation noted cock size on the common scale, original age, and adapted age. I was no longer so much a person as a collection of vital statistics.

The doctor motioned to the nurse-slave and she released me from the restraints. I knew enough about slavery to stand with my hands behind my back, legs apart, eyes forward. I had to display my new body to everyone around me. I felt a rush of warmth as I displayed myself, comfortable and safe. The doctor beamed at me and clipped a leash to my collar. We walked out to the foyer and she showed me to the receptionist, who squealed with delight and pinched my hard bottom. The doctor had me kiss the receptionist's shoes and thank her for enslaving me, while the receptionist held my leash.

As I knelt debasing myself, a young woman walked through the main entrance and asked to volunteer to be a slave. I glanced up at her – pale skin and red hair. A little frightened. The receptionist took her details as I continued to kiss her feet and express my gratitude for her role in my enslavement. She thrust her toes into my mouth and had me suck them. She had exquisite feet, elegant and soft. I sucked hungrily.

The doctor watched from behind me, thoughtful. She sent a low-intensity shock to my balls, making me jump. With her foot, she tapped my thighs. I understood – I needed to kneel with my legs open so that my cock, balls, and backside would be properly on the show to anyone behind me. I would be punished if I forgot. I could feel her eyes boring into my newly tight, virgin hole. Hormones raged through me, and I ached with longing to be filled with a strapon. The same rush of warmth hit me again just as soon as I obeyed the command to expose myself. I'd never felt quite so submissive before.

The receptionist acknowledged my thanks and handed my leash back to the doctor. Instructing me to crawl, the doctor led me past the new volunteer, who sat hesitantly filling out her forms, and took me back into the enslavement center proper. I was taken through to a waiting room where seven other slaves sat around the edge of the room. Their hands were locked behind their backs, and they each sat with their legs spread lewdly apart. The room was designed to keep us calm: green walls, potted plants, a relaxing scent in the air.

Five slaves were male and two were female. The doctor asked me if I needed to use the toilet. I did, so I went in the stall in the corner; at least it had a door. Privacy was a privilege I no longer warranted, but the slavers knew to keep the volunteers coming back, there had to be some limits. Once I was done, the doctor sat me down near one of the women, an older-looking woman with a mass of dark curly hair and coffee-colored skin. She was stunning. My cock twitched in its prison, and she smiled knowingly. I opened my legs, displaying my submission just like all the others.

"Slaves, this is our newest slave boy, whose free name was Kieron Faber but who will be referred to by his short designation of Slave KF-M-3, indicating initials, gender, and cock size category out of 8. Slave KF-M-3, tell these boys and girls how long you are enslaved for, and what was done to you today."

I knew better than to disobey and started to speak immediately.

"Mistress, today I volunteered for seventeen weeks of slavery, with availability as a heterosexual submissive sex slave subject to certain limits, or with use of my skills in other areas. I have ... um, I have ... been reduced in age from twenty-eight to eighteen. Ah!"

The doctor had used a remote control to make my collar shock me. The electricity shot through my nerves, jolting me against my bonds. The pain was intense, breathtaking, exquisite. I felt immensely grateful for it, which came as a surprise to me. The doctor saw it on my face and simply smiled. The nanites in my blood were now "helping" me react like a slave, though I only discovered this much later.

"Your age, slaveboy, was not reduced. It was corrected. Say it again."

"I ... am sorry mistress. My age has been corrected from twenty-eight to eighteen. I have lost all of my body hair, including my pubic hair. My body has been ch- um – corrected from twenty-eight to eighteen, making me slimmer and more boyish. My cock has been locked in a chastity cage-"

"Describe it, slaveboy," said the doctor.

"It is a size 3 cock cage, small-medium ... in pink ... with a bow. Mistress." She nodded "I have been fitted with cuffs and a collar, and tattooed with a slave identification, and microchipped." I could see the doctor wanted more, "And, um, I have had my arsehole reduced back to a virgin tightness, and have licked the feet of the receptionist to thank her for enslaving me."

"Good boy, slave KF-M-3. Now, feel free to chat with your new slave brothers and sisters while you wait. In approximately two hours, you will be transferred to the training compound outside the city. Remember to address female slaves as 'miss', to show your inferiority to their sex."