6 comments/ 37977 views/ 16 favorites Selection Day By: JMaxwell69 I A scrolling message flashed at the top of Julian's pad interrupting his "Math for Boys" tutorial. The message said: "Congrats on your impending 18th b-day. This is a gentle reminder that you are hereby required to present yourself to the Ministry of Occupational Assessment and Assignment for evaluation by 3:00pm on March 14, 2052. Failure to comply will result in punitive action and may result in a less desirable placement." The message concluded with a lovely cursive letter M in contrast to the mundane block letters of the message proper. The "M" was short for "Matriarch", which was appropriate as she was the mother of the nation that arose from the ashes, Matronia. Julian found himself thinking that the graceful "M" reminded him of a buxom set of breasts, but then he repelled the thought. As his teachers always told the boys, it was this kind of thinking that made it necessary to keep boys in check and to nullify the evil that lurked within them. He could see a scornful Ms. Ellington shaking her head at him, more of pity than of anger. Ellington always said that it wasn't boys' fault they were this way, but it was a sad fact of nature. Darkness had to meet the light to perpetuate the species. In some sense, there was a kind of nobility in having the seed of darkness inside one, but that didn't mean that society could relax its vigilance. Unchecked, the darkness led to bellicosity, perversion, brutishness, incivility, impoliteness, and, ultimately, the death of the species. M had, of course, not personally sent the message; she was, after all, an exceedingly busy woman. She was the figurehead of the state, and the author of the core of their society's literary canon. All the books from the previous civilization had been fried by electro-magnetic pulses. Occasionally, someone turned up an ancient text in unmovable type, but those had to be submitted to the Ministry of Antiquities for evaluation and safe destruction because they often contained thought-viruses, ideas that might lead to the end of woman-kind. Julian returned his attention to the Boy's math problem. It was quite simple, and he wondered if he might be able to succeed in Lady's math. He knew he couldn't, not really, but it was fun to fantasize about the possibilities of a more interesting life. In truth, Lady's math was vastly more difficult, he had been told, and required a level of concentration that could not be mustered by one with the darkness dwelling within him. Left to their own devices, boys' attention would inevitably turn to their penises, the desire to spread their seed, and a propensity toward pugilism. That's why the smartest of the young boys were selected for gender reassignment or to be eunuchs. Julian again recognized his mind wandering, and took it as a case in point of what he had been told. "I'm going to market. Is there anything... special... I can get for you?" Julian looked up to see his mother's boy, Victor – but who preferred to go by Vicky, looking down at him. There was something odd about the way Vicky talked that Julian could not precisely put his finger upon. In this case, it had something to do with the way he paused and said "special" like he was telling a secret. There was always the tone of some elusive coded hint in the boy's speech, but Julian never quite grasped it. There was something unusual about the way Vicky looked at him in an almost adoring fashion. The closest thing he had experienced was how his mother looked at him when he was younger, but, still, it was not quite that look. At any rate, Vicky was always nice to Julian, nicer than he needed to be to anyone but Julian's mother, or other ladies when commanded. "No thank you, Vicky." Julian said with an added sigh. "Well, if you think of something, shoot me a beep." Vicky said, and he was about to turn, when he heard the sigh and noted the dullness in Julian's voice. "Something the matter?" "No. Nothing, really. I'm just a little preoccupied with my Assignment Day coming up." Julian said. "Ooohh. Have you talked with your mother about it?" Vicky said, always concerned about being seen as usurping Julian's mother. "No. She's a smart lady, but she doesn't know what it's like, not really. She never had to go through Assignment Day. She figured out what she wanted to do, went to school to learn how to do it, and now does it. Ladies have it easy that way... I know everything looks better from the other side. It's just worrisome that the die has been cast on my entire future, and all I can do now is show up, let them look me over, and have them tell me my fate." Julian explained. "So you don't think you'll be classified the way you want?" Vicky asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "I don't know." "Well, how would you like to be classified?" "I'm not sure, but I know I don't want to be a broomer. Sometimes I think I might want to be a bleeder, but other times it terrifies me." Julian replied. While there were many specific jobs available to males, they were classifiable by a taxonomy often called the Four-B's. There were boys, bulls, bleeders, and broomers. The term "boy", when applied to an occupational class as opposed to its more general use to describe any human male, was someone who worked in the service of a lady doing anything and everything required of them. "Bulls" were those men who inseminated ladies to perpetuate the species. "Bleeders" were those occupations that were too dangerous to allow a lady to be put at risk, which didn't require the high level of intellect of a lady, but, yet, which could not be done by robots. The quintessential "bleeder" was an infantryman in the self-defense forces that kept society safe from barbarians abroad. While ladies filled the officer corps, the enlisted people who engaged in fighting and other low-intellect activities were boys. Finally, "broomers" engaged in mundane manual labor of all sorts from literally sweeping and mopping to cleaning stopped up toilets or trimming hedges. "I don't think you have to worry about being either a broomer or a bleeder. You've got too nice a body for a broomer and too nice a disposition to be a bleeder." Vicky said. Vicky was referring to the fact that Julian was athletically built, but thoughtful and gentle. They seldom wasted attractive individuals on manual labor. They sometimes used them in high-risk occupations, but only when they had highly aggressive tendencies that did not make them suitable for other work. Julian was not only athletic but also handsome. In contrast to Julian's "athletic and handsome," Vicky was more "lean and pretty." That is to say, where "chiseled" was a good adjective for Julian, "delicate" worked better for Vicky, but the point was that neither was a candidate for a crap job by virtue of their very different attractive qualities. However, Julian could end up with a very different position from Vicky as his type was often selected for life in the stables as a bull. "What do you think they'll do with me?" Julian said, standing up and innocently pulling the white cotton gown off over his head so Vicky could evaluate his physique and state of health. He stood naked except for his chasti. "I... uh... it's hard to say." Vicky's response was interrupted by his own chasti's alarm sounding. Julian's face adopted a puzzled look. "Sorry, I've got to go pee. This is weird all of a sudden. Got to go." Vicky continued as he ran off abruptly. Julian was left with a quizzical expression showing on his brow. A chasti was a curved tube that looked a little like some types of water faucets, but instead of a faucet opening at the end it was rounded off with a little hole. They came in various sizes, and most were custom fitted. The device housed a man's penis and kept him from getting aroused. The little hole allowed a man to plug the chasti into a uri-port to urinate. There were rumors that in ancient times boys used to anger ladies when they'd pee on the toilet seats, or miss the toilet all together. This problem was rectified through the current technology. There were sensitive pressure sensors lining the inside of the chasti, and when a man began to become aroused it set off an audible alarm and a flashing light. The purpose was to prevent men from giving in to their innate tendencies to, at best, become consumed with self-satisfaction, or, at worst, to become rapists. It did happen on occasion that there were false alarms when the penis began to get erect for non-sexual reasons such as with the consumption of certain medications or, most commonly, as part of the body's response to stifle the need to urinate. This lent credibility to Vicky's claim, but it was always a suspect excuse. Usually, such an erection occurred in one's sleep. Still, Julian was sympathetic of the use of the excuse. There were cruel girls who sometimes amused themselves by trying to set off boys' chastis by flashing them or talking seductively. It was frowned upon, but, nonetheless, some did it. Despite his sympathy, Julian was a bit uneasy with the compounding evidence that Vicky felt some attraction toward him. He liked Vicky, but not in that sort of way. Besides, Vicky belonged to his mother, and all of his sexual energies and appetites were to be devoted to her. II "Welcome, Julian, to the Ministry of Occupational Assessment and Assignment." The message beamed into Julian's earpod, from no one and nowhere in particular, as he entered the massive white marble glass-encased atrium of the Ministry. It was an impressive and pristine environment. The twin-domed Ministry building was a graceful piece of architecture. As Julian continued to walk toward the bank of elevators, instructions continued to play, interrupting the music to which he had been listening, "Proceed to the second floor. There you will leave your gown at the cloakroom to the left as you exit the elevator." When he got to the second floor, he easily found the well marked "cloak room", which was a completely automated affair. One disrobed, put one's cloak onto a hanger, placed the hanger on a rod, and then pulled out the numbered tag. The cloak was then pulled into a slit in the wall. This tag could be worn on one's wrist as a bracelet since there was nowhere else to keep it. When one came back, one simply held the tag under a reader and, soon, out would pop one's cloak. This could be a slow system, which was one more reason that Julian was pleased he got up early to arrive as soon as possible. His primary impetus for doing so was that he just couldn't wait to find out. Still, he was surprised how abandoned the Ministry seemed to be at this early hour. A voice again interrupted Julian's song in mid-chorus, "Next proceed through the double doors marked 'Assessment' to Station 1 for chasti removal." Julian did as instructed. Chasti removal was not automated. There were five women sitting around conversing and having their morning tea when Julian entered Station 1. They all wore slick rubberized uniforms in blue, and it was rumored the uncomfortable garb was necessitated by the large number of accidents that occurred involving the many incoming subjects with huge pent up sexual tension. That is to say, the material cleaned up nicely and was said to be impervious to the darkness. Upon seeing Julian standing in the doorway, nude but for the Chasti and the bands that secured it, one of the group peeled off by wheeling over on her stool to attend to Julian. They apparently had some system for delegating who took care of which subject as would a hair salon. The other women continued to watch their laboring comrade. For some reason Julian could not comprehend, they continued to take more interest in him than their interrupted conversation. "Welcome... Julian, is it?" The woman said looking down at a monitor encased at a slant into the desktop before her. She was a dark-skinned woman that had short but ornately styled coppery colored hair, and had prominent curves packed into her rubber attire. "Yes, ma'am." "You haven't tampered with your Chasti have you, Julian?" "No, ma'am." The inspector hooked a finger into the Chasti belt, and tugged Julian up close so that he was only about five inches from her nose. With her on the stool and Julian standing, the chasti was just below eye level. She looked at the chasti, gave it a tug, lifted it, and looked underneath. She then turned Julian around a full three hundred and sixty degrees slowly by putting her hands on his hips to direct him. She was looking at the bands mostly, but somewhat at his body as well. When Julian was back around to facing her, she made some sort of entry into his record. "OK, just one more thing before we take your chasti off." The woman said, and she reached down into a bin beneath the desk and came up with what looked like two stiff cloth sacks bunched up at the base. "These will keep you from being bad... Give me your hands." The woman said. When Julian extended his hands, she put one of the coarse inflexible sacks over it and snatched the zip seal snug. She repeated this with the other hand. This was apparently to keep him from jerking off in the bathroom or something of that nature. After negating Julian's hands, the woman put latex gloves on her own hands. Copper-hair then put the electromagnetic key that had been programmed automatically upon Julian's arrival in the building into the slot and, holding the codpiece in place, pressed to let the bands pop off. She put the chasti in a cabinet. Now Julian was completely nude with the exception of the awkward bags on his hands. He raised his hand to scratch his chin and found that the bags were very abrasive on his skin, such that any contact below the equator was likely to cause extreme chaffing. "Think pure thoughts young man." The inspector said as she took a cylindrical laser light device and pointed the laser dot at the base of Julian's dangle while holding the limp cock flat in the palm of her other hand. She removed the laser dot slowly down to the tip of Julian's cock and it recorded the length with high precision. "Twelve and a half centimeters, flaccid." She said, apparently to the desk, and the words must have been automatically recorded somehow. She added, "Very nice", apparently more fore Julian's sake than for official record-keeping. The woman then put a cuff on Julian's arm and a thermometer in his... Well, let's just say she took his blood pressure, pulse, and temperature and annotated all these via the same verbal log. She next had him step on a pad against the wall, and his weight and height were recorded. "OK, we're done here. You'll need to go over to Station 2, the Sampling Room. Follow the dotted yellow line." The woman said pointing at a holographically-projected dashed line that exited the room, turned left, and disappeared down the hall. Julian followed the projected line until it ended at a door with a large number "2" on it. He pushed open one side of the double swinging doors and entered a little waiting area separated from the office space by a white counter. There was a solitary worker in sight. It was a brown-haired woman leaning over the counter from the other side who showed a warm and welcoming smile when Julian entered. The lady was in her late 30's or early 40's and had the most beautiful brown eyes. She, too, was wearing one of the latex suits. The woman spoke with the great rapidity of one who bubbles over with energy. "Good morning, Julian. I'm Elaine, and welcome to station two. We are going to take some measurements and collect a nice sample of ejaculate for testing, and then you'll be off to the final stop. Ready?" Elaine had known it was Julian that was coming by a note from the automated system that popped up on the screen of her digital notepad. She came around the counter and took ahold of Julian's wrist above the sack that encased his hand, and began to sweetly lead him down the hall. Julian lagged behind with his arm outstretched like a distracted boy being lead by his mother, but he looked down mesmerized by the gracefully rounded buns of the woman's backside and the smooth arc of cleft that separated them. Even rubber-encased, it caused a stirring that he tried to quell. He looked around at the sterile corridor he was being led down. At the end of the hall, Elaine opened a door and ushered Julian inside. It was a small and shallow room, and contained only a little stool on wheels and a small rolling cabinet. The room was on the periphery of the building, and the outer wall was glass from floor to ceiling. This made Julian just the slightest bit ill-at-ease because it felt as though anyone outside on the street would be able to see precisely what was going on in the room. The logical part of him knew this must not be the case, but he couldn't shake the feeling of vulnerability nonetheless. "Alright, Julian, let me just get ready here." Elaine said. From the little cabinet, she pulled a pair of rubber gloves, a tube of lube, the same type of laser measuring device used on him in Station 1, and a little cup whose lid was snapped to its bottom like a saucer to a teacup. She precisely set the cup, lube, and measure on top of the cabinet, and then pulled on the gloves one at a time. She then squirted some lube into one hand and rolled the thumb and fingers around to coat he palm of the hand with the clear cold slippery liquid. With her dry hand she picked up the laser measuring device. "We've got to get a measurement of your size while erect. Do you think you can keep from squirting all over the place if I stimulate you a little?" Elaine asked nonchalantly. The usual procedure was to get the measurement, and then collect the sample. However, some boys, having so much of the darkness built up inside them, would start squirting off their sample before they were even fully stimulated. However, if she took the sample first, which she often did with her more fidgeting and tense subjects, sometimes it was hard to get an accurate measure before they began to go limp. "Yes, ma'am." Julian got hard with great rapidity, but was able to control himself. She was even able to keep stroking him until his head was a glossy purple. Elaine was not only able to get the measure, but to take a photo for the archives. "25.5 centimeters, erect." Elaine said to some unseen recording device. "Now I'm going to collect a sample of ejaculate. Do you think you have a sample for me?" Elaine asked. It was almost a silly question, except that some boys had nocturnal emissions that were erectionless, and these rare specimens often had little or no semen left to collect. A few others were sterile. However, most of the boys shot loads that were a rarity in the days before chastis. "Yes, ma'am." Julian replied. "I know you are normally told to think pure thoughts, but this is one time when it's alright to let your mind wander wherever it wants to go. Just relax and accept the feelings that overcome you." Elaine said in a soothing tone. About a third of the boys were terribly difficult to get a sample from because they were so terrified of thinking naughty thoughts, or of letting themselves release, that Elaine had to really work for the sample. Usually she hated such cases. With Julian, she wasn't sure she wouldn't enjoy the challenge, but she knew right away that he was not the terrified bunny type. They were the ones who had been abused for their nature. Often they didn't take to the training when young, and so severe measures had to be applied. Elaine picked up the cup with her dry hand and stroked with the lubricated hand. She had become expert at noticing the signs of an impending cumshot, but was still cautious. Occasionally, one got away from her and ended up being shot across the little exam room, or, in three cases, across Elaine's face and hair. Such misses created problems because there could be no impurities in the sample (i.e. she couldn't squeegee it into the cup from off the wall, the floor, or her uniform, but, instead, had to take a second sample, and second samples often were of inadequate volume.) Elaine put aside the thoughts that some wrongly assigned broomers had resulted from the loss of a big hearty sample that would have qualified the subject for bullship. Selection Day In a few moments, Elaine began to notice signs a cumshot was imminent. She got the cup into place well before the first of several intense pulsing geysers of seed shot into the seminal cup. Elaine continued to stroke and collect until the very last drip of milky ejaculate was collected. She then snapped the lid onto the top of the cup, used a tissue to wipe away the little additional discharge that drained from Julian's cockhead as it went flaccid, and cleaned up her little work station. "Alright, Julian, follow the blue line to Station Three, the waiting area. You must wait there until you are either told you may return to Station One for reapplication of your chasti, or taken for a final interview." With that, Elaine ushered the boy out of the exam room and down the hall. Before walking out of Station Two, Julian looked over his shoulder to see Elaine put the sample up on a little revolving shelf, push a button, and the cup disappeared to the other side of the wall, presumably to the laboratory for analysis. The sample would be inspected for sperm count, motility, volume, etc. in order to determine if Julian was capable of being a bull. Being a bull wasn't a bad life. Life in the stables might be isolated, but the labor wasn't burdensome because one could only do so many inseminations a week, and the rest of the time bulls worked on a health and fitness regimen or relaxed, the latter being necessary for building sperm count. Julian followed the holographic blue line to a large open waiting area. Not surprisingly, he was the only one there. He preferred it that way. It was true that the time it took to inspect his sample would go very slowly with no company, but it also had advantages. First, if he was sent away as a broomer, he wouldn't have to do the walk of shame in front of a crowd. It was widely known that those who were released to walk back down the corridor the way they came, after sample inspection, were usually the bottom of the barrel and destined for the worst jobs. Therefore, Julian hoped to be called into the office of a Chief Inspector (CI). CI's interviewed all candidates to be boys and bulls, or at least that was the rumor. Second, sitting around completely naked with baggies over one's hands with a bunch of complete strangers was not exactly Julian's idea of a good time. He imagined boys looking him over like Vicky did, but with far more malicious intent. Julian listened to music over his earpod, and let his mind drift. When he found himself stiffening in response to a memory about how nice Elaine smelled and looked, he changed his thoughts and the burgeoning turgidity waned. After what seemed like an eternity, Julian was joined in the waiting area by two other boys who were in the same state of nudity. The two seemed to have come in together, and sat down across the room from Julian where they began to speak between themselves in low tones. It would not be long before the first rush of subjects came through. This would be those who wanted to get selection over before going to work or school, but who were not so diligent as Julian in getting up at the crack of dawn. Time moved slowly, and, eventually, the two other boys who came in well after him were released. More boys started to filter in, and one nervous blond boy tried to make small talk with Julian. Julian was not in the mood for chit-chat, and with each passing moment he was becoming more unwound. It had been three times as long as Elaine had suggested it would be. He wondered whether he should inquire as to whether his record had been misplaced. But then he considered that it might be part of the test, and, if he showed lack of patience, he might get a worse assignment. Of course, maybe if he didn't ask he would get a worse assignment. This internal debate was consuming Julian all the while the blond boy prattled on. III Right when Julian began to stand with the intention of inquiring with Elaine, he heard a hurried pattern of hard sole clacking on the marble floor. He looked over to see a woman approaching. She had a stern look about her, with her hair up in a meticulously tight bun and a persistent furrow on her brow. Her hair was either very dark brown or black, and she wasn't wearing a latex suit like the other ladies he'd seen. Instead, she wore a black skirt and black jacket with decorations on her lapels and epaulets like the military officers of old. It occurred to Julian that without the scowl and with her hair down she would be a rather attractive woman "Julian?" The stern woman asked, but the fact that she walked right up to him in a now bustling waiting area indicated that she knew exactly who he was. "Yes, ma'am." Julian said while standing to show respect and deference. Without the slightest interest in, or recognition of, the others in the waiting area, she looked Julian up and down and, without hesitation, reached down and grabbed his cock. Julian's member involuntarily swelled in the woman's soft warm hand, but she was indifferent to the chubbing up of Julian's dick. Instead, she visually inspected around the boy's cock and testicles. She ran hands over him and looked at him as if looking over an animal she was considering buying. She motioned for Julian to turn about. He did so and she spread his butt cheeks to look at his ass for some reason that Julian could not comprehend. After a moment's pause, during which she did nothing but stare at the boy, she said, "Follow me." Julian obediently complied. They went down a hall that Julian had not transited before. It was lined with single doors. The lady opened the second door from the end of the hall on the left, and directed Julian inside. The space was much bigger than the previous exam room, and the sights immediately inspired dread in Julian. While the sterile white environment still prevailed, there were some unusual additions. There was a worn device that looked like a saw horse and one wall was lined with a variety of objects dangling off hooks that were mostly foreign to Julian, except that a number of them simulated the size and shape of a male member. There were steel eyebolts mounted in the floors, walls, and ceilings at what seemed to Julian to be random positions. There were stainless steel cabinets that housed who knew what manner of dread implements. "Take a seat." The stern woman said. Julian looked around for a chair, but the only one he could see besides the inspector's stool looked like some sort of examination chair with stirrups for one's feet, and it was on the other side of the room. "ON THE FLOOR!" She said having lost patience with Julian or taken his lack of response for insubordination. Julian sat his bare ass on the cold slab, and looked over at the inspector for further instruction. "I am Chief Inspector Legham. I will be deciding your fate. I hold your future in my hand. Regardless of what your tests this morning may have indicated, I can still make you the elephant-poop-shoveler at the Metro Zoo. Do you understand and accept this?" Legham said. "Yes, ma'am." Julian replied. "Very good. I ask this to very few candidates, but, what do you want to do?" She asked as she walked around him in a wide circle eyeballing him. "I think I'd like to be a bull." Julian said, unsure of how to respond. "Well, unless your behavior and performance is poor from here out, I think you have a 50/50 chance of achieving your desired occupation. You've been rated as having nearly identical aptitude for 'bull' and 'boy.' You are healthy and fertile enough to be a bull, but you seem to have a disposition that would make you a nice little bitch boy for some lady. However, as I indicated, nothing is set until I say it is. Let's get started. Stand up." Legham commanded. Julian nearly jumped up so eager was he to please this horrible lady who held his life in her hands. "You think you have the dick to be a bull? Show me the rest of it." Legham said. She then began to stroke his cock roughly to a plump erection. She stood back, appearing to admire the boy's member. She reached down and gave his balls a squeeze with just a hint of meanness laced into the playfulness of the action. She then got very close, chest to chest, and tilted her head up so that she could speak in low tones into the boy's ear. His cock was pressed flat pointing upward between them. Julian took in the flowery feminine scent that adorned his bitchy woman in a fashion disjoint to the hard exterior she presented. She was too much shorter than he to directly whisper in his ear without forcing him down to the cold floor again, but her lips were merely a few inches below his ear. She spoke slowly and methodically. "You want to fuck me with that thing don't you? All boys are little rapists that just want to fuck to spread their darkness. I've got some good news and bad news, which would you like to hear first?" Julian sensed that her first question was purely rhetorical by the lack of pause, but he immediately answered the second question. "The good news, ma'am." "The good news is that you may just get your wish and be able to fuck me. Ready for the bad news?" Legham said. "Yes, ma'am." Julian said, though he was not sure he was. "I fuck back." Legham said this time punctuating the statement with a harsh squeeze of the boys nuts. Leaving her uniform blouse and jacket on, Legham stripped from the waist down. It was an odd look, but, no doubt, intended to constantly remind the boy who was in charge in a way that bare-chestedness would not have. Legham led the boy, using his dick as a leash, over to the aforementioned exam chair. Julian was a little relieved to see Legham climb into it, and put her feet up in the stirrups. "Kneel!" She commanded. Julian did as he was told, kneeling on a little built-in step mounted on the front of the chair such that he was looking straight at Legham's cunt. "Have you ever seen a pussy before?" Legham asked as she used the fingers of one hand to spread apart the lips of her sex. Julian paused, "No, not really, ma'am." "Not really? What does that mean? Either you have or you haven't, which is it?" Legham interrogated. "Ma'am, I've never seen one up close like this, I've seen a couple women without pants on from a distance." Julian elaborated. "Whose pussy did you see?" "My mother's once when I accidently walked in on her and her boy, and three girls at school who raised their skirts briefly trying to set my chasti off in public." Julian continued, lying only about seeing his mother nude just once. In reality, it had probably been closer to a dozen times. The woman went through waves of horniness in which she liked to use Vicky at random times and places around the house. "Did you report the girls?" Legham asked. "No. Ma'am." "You didn't report them because you hoped they'd let you fuck them? Or, was because you knew it was all really your fault?" Legham gave him an unwinnable dichotomy of options on purpose. If he said that neither was correct he would be challenging the unassailable dominance of the CI. "Because I knew it was my fault ma'am." Julian said, defeated. "Yes. It was all your fault because you're just a little boy-whore fuck toy with no control of his impulses." Legham punctuated this statement by grabbing fistfuls of Julian's hair in each hand and forcing his face to burrow into her cunt. "Ohh. Suck it like a good little bitch." Legham said as she ground her stale sex into the boy's face. Julian's lips and tongue instinctively went to work on the briny musky cunt. While Julian was the first inspection of her day, it seemed as though Legham had put in a ten mile run in the morning and not showered before putting on her uniform. However, Legham's pussy seemed to become swamped with a more appetizing pussy sauce in a short time. The boy was dutiful in his cunnilingus, if inexperienced, and he kept sucking and licking even when Legham held his face trapped up against her crotch so that he couldn't get a breath. When she seemed to react favorably to a certain maneuver, moaning or writhing, he would repeat it until she told him he should change up. He would keep it up even when his tongue and jaw were agonizingly sore. Within a half hour of performing cunnilingus, he became quite adept at it, and even Legham couldn't help but show that she was pleased with the boy's stamina and loyal servitude. Eventually, she yielded to a climax, and Julian continued to service her through several waves of her orgasm until she demanded he stop. "Did you say you wanted to be a boy? You suck pussy like a good boy, and that's probably the most important duty of a boy." She knew full well that he had said he wanted to be a bull, but she wanted to see how he would react. "If I am selected as a boy, I would be happy to serve." Julian responded with perhaps the most diplomatic possible answer, and he got begrudging points for it in Legham's book. "You know, on rare occasions, this job is more fun when you let the candidate make his own decisions. You said that you would prefer to be a bull rather than a boy, is that correct?" "Yes. Ma'am." Julian couldn't be sure this wasn't a set up, and he thought, perhaps, he might be better off answering with the opposite of his wishes to the sadistic CI, but he decided honesty would serve him best. "Is that still true?" Legham asked. "Yes. Ma'am." Julian replied. "Be honest, how much more would you rather be a bull? A lot? Just a little? Almost the same?" Legham asked. Julian had had time to think about this and to learn a little more about the lifestyle in recent days, and had concluded that he really wanted to be a bull. Being a boy could be nice life, but it was so much subject to luck of the draw as to the mistress to which one was assigned. The life of a bull might be tedious, but he liked working out, and he was eager to experience women without having to worry about spending his life with some singularly horrific shrew. Again he decided to be truthful. "A lot. I would say, but..." Julian was cut off before he could hedge. "But? But-nothing. I am going to give you the opportunity to choose for yourself between being a bull or a boy. Are you ready to make your decision?" Legham said smiling in a way that made Julian uneasy, given her clear Sadistic streak and the fact that he had already expressed his desires clearly. "Yes, ma'am, I would like..." Julian began to answer, but was interrupted. "Ssshh! Before you answer, I have some relevant information that you may want to know. Do you want to hear it?" Legham inquired. "Yes. Ma'am." Julian said uneasily. "Well, I now know that you are obedient and eat pussy like a real sport. That's all I need to know to put your name in the hat for a boy assignment right this minute. If you take the boy role you can leave right now... or leave after we could conduct one more test that I guarantee you would find immensely pleasurable. However, if you insist on being a bull, I am obligated to conduct one more test that most subjects don't find to be all that pleasurable. Now, would you still rather be a bull? You can walk out right now as a boy, you can fuck my wet pussy and then leave as a boy, or you can undergo a test most subjects find torturous and leave as a bull. What's your choice?" Legham said, not restraining her glee. "Ma'am, may I ask what the test to be a bull is?" Julian inquired. With Julian still kneeling, this time, after swinging off the side of the exam chair, Legham could easily bend over to speak directly into his ear. She did so, harshly whispering her response such that puffs of hot air pulsed in Julian's ear, "To make you a bull, I'll have to give you empathy training. This means that I strap on a dildo the same size as your stiff dick, and ream you up the ass with it until I'm satisfied that you're sympathetic to the plight of being fucked with a big gorilla dong like yours. We can't have our precious ladies being internally bruised, or worse, by some big-cocked dimwit, now can we? So do you still want to be a bull?" Legham explained. Julian now knew why the woman seemed to take such sadistic pleasure in allowing him free will, and, what's more, he believed she would really let him make the choice. He had initially thought it was a set up, and that as soon as he made his choice she would say, "Don't you remember who makes the decisions around here? Just for that, I'm going to make you boy to some disgusting slob who's also a horrendous bitch." While this understanding of the true situation of his dilemma perhaps should have made him angry, in point of fact, Julian was ecstatic to have free will, even if it was constrained by such a cruel dilemma. "Ma'am, I still want to be a bull." Julian said, reasoning that no matter how bad it was, being fucked would only last so long. He would heal. It was worth it to avoid a horrid boy assignment that might last the rest of his life. "OK, then. I applaud your determination. Now get over there, and bend over that sawhorse." Legham commanded. Julian wondered if she wouldn't take his decision as an affront to godessliness, and an implication that he didn't fear her wrath. Legham was right in front of Julian when she stepped into the harness and cinched it up. She left Julian in the vulnerable and awkward position in which he had no choice but to watch the preparations for his impending torture. The exposure of his bare bent-over ass was meant to make him twitch. In anticipation of this activity Legham, or one of her minions, had already selected a dildo that approximated the size of Julian. This might be the only time in his life he regretted, or really even noticed, that he was well-endowed. While the rubber cock was quite close to his size in length, it looked substantially thicker than Julian's cock, at least to Julian, but he couldn't be positive this was not a result of panic-goggles. Legham walked over holding up and stroking the faux member as if it were an actual appendage, and said, "I'm feeling charitable, I'll even let you lube me up as long as you don't make a mess. Whatever you put on the dildo without dripping on the floor will serve to make this much less painful." She reached over to Julian extending a hand that contained a flip-top tube, which presumably contained lubricant. Of course, Julian still had the big bags over his hands, and they allowed him no gripping ability or even tactile sensation. He reached out and clamped the tube between his two stubbed appendages. He was going to ask if he might be allowed to remove the anti-wank mittens when he looked over to see the perversely amused grin of the previously mirthless Legham. It was then clear to him that this was part of her torturous approach. She would let Julian think she was being nice, but, in reality, set him up. As he was moving in nice and close to Legham to maximize his accuracy, Julian was faced with a dilemma. Squeeze against the tube too tightly and he might risk having the tube shoot out through his mitts or have the cap pop open spilling the contents, and, on the other hand, if he held it too lightly it might slip from his grasp. In the little distance he needed to close, he almost made both mistakes. "HURRY UP! Move this along." Legham shouted explosively just to see if she could make Julian drop the tube. She almost succeeded. Julian considered his approach carefully. He had to pop open the top on the tube and then get as much lube onto the phallus as he could manage before it dripped onto the floor. He kneeled down almost in the position he would have assumed to deliver strap-on fellatio, but only because he wanted to reduce the distance from the tube's opening to the dildo. He realized he had to pop the top with his mouth, and wanted to reduce the risk that he would spill the contents three feet away. If he did spill, he wanted to do so over the phallus so at least a little would splash onto it. Selection Day It was difficult to open the top because if he squeezed the tube too hard, when the cap opened, it would randomly squirt, but the tube tended to slide around in his grip if he didn't hold on tight enough. Eventually, putting his whole mouth over the lid, he managed to pry open the flip-top with his front teeth in the manner of an antique bottle cap opener while keeping the tube vertical so its contents would not spill. His plan was to start from the head of the phallus and run a bead along the top to the base, and, hopefully, do this before any dripped down. Unfortunately, it was a light oil with little viscosity, and ran around the sides of the dildo under the force of gravity and dripped the floor before he had the first four inches of shaft lubed. He was also unable to get the very tip because he didn't dare risk missing. "ENOUGH! You are spilling on the floor." Legham said as she snatched the tube back, resealed the top, and tossed the tube aside onto a nearby bench. Julian did not even wait to be told to resume his position bent over the sawhorse, but did so in such a way that Legham could do her worst. Holding the strap-on dildo with one petite hand in the same way a well-hung man might, Legham pressed the head against Julian's virginal sphincter. As the bulbous tip had not been coated with lubricant the rubbery phallus burned as it was forced into Julian's ass. Then, once the head popped into Julian, the lubed section was reached, and the dildo penetrated to its maximum depth violently. It felt like there was a tiny prize-fighter in Julian's rectum working his way toward his colon. When the dildo penetrated no more than about six inches, Legham began to adjust her ramming angle to get more depth. Her success was limited. "Oh. You little bitch. You'd better take it all." Legham said as she continued to thrust into the boy's bung. Legham was clearly a practiced professional. She knew how to take it the limit without actually permanently injuring Julian. She forced the dildo as far as she could do so without perforating Julian's innards. Unfortunately for Julian, she also had tremendous endurance, and it soon became clear that between the lube, Julian's rectal lining, and Legham, Legham was not going to be the first to give out. She was relentless. "Go ahead and scream if you want to." Legham said as Julian suppressed a cry of pain. Wails and screams were like sustenance to the inspector. She thrived on them. They certainly seemed to make her moan, and probably made her wet. Eventually, the lubricant did degrade and it became an increasingly dry and burning ass fuck. When there was a momentary decrease in friction followed by a rivulet of liquid running down Julian's leg, it seemed likely that his ass was bleeding profusely. Julian considered calling it quits, and accepting life as a boy if she would only quit ass-raping him. The longer the bung-punishing treatment went on, the less resolutely Julian was able to turn these thoughts away. In the beginning he turned them away by thinking that the torture, which felt like he was being split in half, would end any moment. Eventually, Julian began to think he might be permanently injured. Just as Julian committed himself to quitting, Legham pulled out and summarily ended the session. When Julian went back to Station 1 to get his Chasti reinstalled and the damn hand-baggies removed, the same lady who removed the Chasti was present, and she was shocked to see Julian was still present. "I don't know if I've ever known any boy to be here so long." She said as she reinstalled the chasti on the bedraggled bloodied young man. When he got home, Julian once again walked in on his mother being orally serviced by Vicky in the foyer. The two both expressed the briefest sympathies and congratulations to Julian as he limped like an old man on his way to lay down in his bed.