The Tames II
01
“We spent a lot of time getting Jamie up to your specifications, but I believe you will enjoy the results of our hard work.” Jean-Paul pressed a button on the remote control in his hand.
The doors on the side of the room opened and a Tame slowly walked into the room. The Tame, blond haired and short, with toned legs and a hairless body, and came to stand at attention on a small display stand on that side of the room. The Tame’s hard cock was kept in tiny shorts and its eyes looked straight ahead, empty of life and thought.
“Wow,” was all the buyer, a member of the trustee board of an academy for instilling slavery and dominance into young men on another continent, could say after taking in the Tame for a long moment. Jean-Paul smiled behind him, proud of the work his programmers had done with this formerly quite unruly boy.
“This...is like our drones, but more...precise.” The buyer walked around the Tame, running a hand over its toned body. He turned back to Jean-Paul. “Our drones are programmed to follow directives, work hard, and be devoted to service. This...” he trailed off again, looking thoughtful, “...Tame is...devoid of a soul. A blank slate. It will do anything we say?”
“Yes,” Jean-Paul confirmed. “The chipping and conditioning imprints a personality that exists only for male leadership and command. By default, general sexual, domestic, and obedience training is also programmed in, which can be modified and extended as needed. Our newest innovation is to blank a Tame each night so a man can have a flesh slate each morning with the same programming that he manipulates during the day. Some get quite a thrill from that.”
The buyer nodded. “Like the computers in our academy classrooms. They have a standard set of programs and default back to them each night after students leave so none of them can permanently break something.”
“Exactly. We also kept your specification to keep its name ‘Tame’ for when you go home with it. I agree that giving it a name may be confusing for those in your area so used to drones and slaves.”
“Don’t forget the new dolls too.” The buyer was lost in thought as he stared at the Tame’s empty eyes. “Tame,” he addressed it, pausing as the Tame stared at him with loving devotion. The formerly quite unruly boy had been brainwashed and turned into a compliant, attractive, object that existed only for its Master. He ran a hand over it and noticed the rock hard cock inside the tiny shorts it wore. “Will it always be like that?” He asked, pointing at the cock.
Jean-Paul nodded. “That is the default setting. I understand it is how your Academy programs them, so I left it in for you.”
“Yes, keep it,” the buyer mumbled as he admired the Tame further. A question popped into his mind. “What did this Tame do before...arriving here?”
“That does not really matter, especially since it will be returning to your continent with you. It was reported missing here and we took the standard measures to make sure the report will never surface.” He pressed a button, making the Tame step off the podium and do a ballerina style twirl for the men. “This Tame’s DNA has been adjusted enough that it would never be recognizable by any police agency anyway. That clean slate you mentioned is quite literal, we believe.”
The buyer shook hands with Jean-Paul again. “I will be in touch soon with the arrangements from the academy. We could probably give you 50-100 boys a year if all goes well.”
Jean-Paul remained in his high tech office, which was filled with a large L desk, three television screens, two holographic monitors, a couch, and two podiums for Tames. One of them normally held his personal Tame, but it was entertaining a potential buyer. The former teen male model had been kidnapped and brainwashed over a month for absolute mental and physical obedience. He knew the Tame would intrigue the man enough for him to put in an order, but that just added to the list of potential buyers. There were athletes, CEOS, and even royalty seeking a compliant slave to serve their whims. One desired twins, another wanted a random boy he met on the street, and another even wanted one reconstructed to look like his deceased brother. Jean-Paul did not judge his buyers, so he worked hard with his staff to fulfill their needs.
Right now a van of young men was being brought in. They had been members of the failing B squad of the local school’s soccer team. Each, just over the legal age, Jean-Paul’s organization did not deal in anything younger, had been drugged and kidnapped and now were being brought in. Each was kept silent with a ball gag and a neural inhibitor on their arms that kept them quite docile.
Except for one olive skinned young man named Richard. The muscular kidnapee thrashed about as the effects of the inhibitor had not completely worked on him. He tried screamed through his gag at the Tames who assisted Jean-Paul’s workers in bringing them in, but the Tames, programmed to only react to a man’s voice did mot hear him. The other members of the team sat blank faced and gagged.
Jean-Paul watched the video of them. Predictably, one of his workers commanded two equally muscular Tames to inject a second inhibitor into Richard. He struggled a bit more before screaming into his gag and passing out. The Frenchman shrugged at the screen. However they acquired subjects was fine by him. He would, nevertheless, keep an eye on that one. One of his holographic screens brought up an alert: He had a meeting with a new employee who he was going to give a tour to as part of his orientation.
The new engineer’s name was Marco, a German man straight out of a local academy who graduated with rather high marks. They shook hands and made small talk for a minute before beginning the tour. The blond man looked around with curiosity, but no obvious excitement. Good. Jean-Paul hated workers who put their dicks before their work.
“Each Tame,” Jean-Paul began, motioned for Marco to follow him, “takes about two weeks to process with another week, sometimes more, for specific conditioning. We can expedite that, but we chose to work more on art than craft.”
“Each Tame is a piece of art, not just mass produced drones.” Marco agreed as he gazed at a Tame being led down the corridor by a trainer. Jean-Paul stopped the boy, deeply into his conditioning and asked how he was doing. Much better was the reply and Marco realized that he, it, must have been quite rebellious beforehand. He had seen drones at their academy that were constantly apologizing for previous behavior. Previous behavior it could not remember, but just knew had been very, very, disobedient.
Marco continued to follow his new boss as they walked out into the main part of the building. It broke up into three large stories that wrapped around the entire building. There was plenty of bustle as Tames were moved to various floors for conditioning. A few buyers, Marco recognized some German in a conversation, were discussing their Tames with a doctor and another worker. He found himself staring after the Tame that stood idly by them with empty-eyed contentment. It seemed so...happy...to be there, just waiting for instruction.
“There are three floors. One is for programming, another for training, and third is for entertainment. I am sure you can imagine,” he waved a hand somewhat dismissively, “what happens up there.”
“Oh, I am sure.” At the end of the hall, a Tame was heading into a side room with another worker. “And other places there are extra-curriculars as well.”
Jean-Paul motioned them forward. “Let me give you the tour.” They began walking, nodding to those who passed. “Our primary business is not, as the academies and other places do, general slavery.” He looked over at Marco. “Any of the local academies can supply one of those. Our business is in sexual slavery. We offer total compliance, loyalty, and obedience.”
Marco nodded. “Most of what I was taught at the academy was based around psychological and neuro-changes, which is what ended up being my specialty. But you also do the psychical changes too.”
“Yes.” Jean-Paul agreed. They came across a series of rooms with boys being conditioned in various ways. “This, I am sure will look a bit familiar to you.” In front of them, a group of engineers and doctors were performing surgery on a series of boys. Each was kept down with metal bars around their arms, legs, and necks. Their sleepy faces showed they had been knocked out for the surgery.
“Wow.” Marco stared for a minute. “This is where the neuro-chipping is done, right?” Jean-Paul nodded with a smile at the young man’s enthusiasm. “The chips connect to the cerebral cortex and redesign the habits, views, and reality of the subject. What is pleasurable, painful, right, and wrong, can be reoriented for better behavior.”
“That is quite a good summation of what you will be doing.” They moved to another part of the window where a boy was on an angled chair with a large helmet wrapped around his head. He was naked except for a plastic pink phallus that was sucking on and off the boy’s cock. “Virtual imprinting of obedience. A special setting for a buyer. Generally though, after chipping, and a day’s recovery, the boys move to here for reinforcement. Their memories and beliefs are reprogrammed to connect disobedience, defiance, and frankly willfulness to negative feelings. Obedience, passivity, and devoted loyalty are what will bring happiness and joy.”
Around them, Tames in latex body suits assisted. He turned to the new employee. “Repeat that for a few days, a few hundred thousand times, and the mind will be quite improved. Once their will is shattered and retrained, then other behaviors can be added like this one.”
They passed down to another part of the floor where a series of rooms that looked like gyms were placed. “This is where the psychical conditioning you were talking about happens.” They watched three boys running on treadmills, hypnotic spirals dancing in front of their eyes in a three dimensional space. Two others worked with a trainer on a weight machine. “Those two are to build up weight and muscle. Personal security for a pop singer.”
Another room down the hall held completed Tames. Five of various ages and races stood at attention on pedestals as workers fussed over them, arguing about clothing, final programming, or the whims of the buyer. Each was naked except for a collar around their necks which had their names on the front. “These are finished Tames that are waiting for buyers to pick them up. Each is currently in an off position, waiting for their new owner to active them when they arrive.”
Marco stared for a minute. “They are amazing. I got to practice on a few drones while in school, but these are...incredible. Perfect. So blank and empty, ready to obey. ” He looked over at Jean-Paul with appreciation for the work they did here after staring at the Tames.
“Now you will get to spend a lot of time with them, my friend.” Jean-Paul gazed momentarily at the man, who returned it before looking away for a brief moment as well. He called over to one of the workers, who brought a blond haired Tame with him. The Tame stepped off the pedestal and followed before snapping back to attention. He ran it through a series of commands for kneeling, bowing, and orgasm.
Jean-Paul smiled a bit arrogantly, proud of the work they do. “All Tames are programmed to automatically obey a series of default commands. These are fairly generic: Kneel, Bow, Serve, Listen, Suck. The commands are conditioned into them so many times that their bodies just react to the command.
“No need for them to have a mind at all. Just pure obedience,” Marco observed.
Jean-Paul stared after him for a moment. “Of course, I am also allowed to embed commands into Tames.” He quickly said something in French and the Tame stood up, grabbed a needle off a table nearby, and jabbed Marco in the arm with it. A moment later, Marco dropped on the ground.
Marco came awake in...Jean-Paul’s office. He squinted as he tried to remember how he had gotten there, but could not remember. Suddenly, Jean-Paul came into the room. A rush of...happiness...came over Marco as his boss came into his office and smiled. “Ah, good, I am glad you are here.”
Marco looked at him confused, but saw the man’s warm green eyes and sighed. He had never noticed them before. “How did I get here? I remember we were taking a tour. I remember a Tame.” He looked over at a monitor on the wall and noticed the date. A chill went through him as he looked over at Jean-Paul. A further chill went through him when he realized that the numbers made no sense to him.
“Ah, yes. You have noticed that something is wrong.” He grinned proudly.
Marco tried to make a run for the door, but Jean-Paul shouted “Stop!” which made Marco freeze in place. He stood before the new Tame. “Strip!” Marco stripped off the mesh shorts and tank top he had been wearing. “Suck!”
Marco obediently slid forward, unbuttoned Jean-Paul’s pants, and began licking at his cock. He kissed and licked at it, giving it a few gentle sucks before getting head first into giving the man an amazing blowjob. He bobbed up and down for a few minutes before Jean-Paul gently slid his head forward, and then back slightly, to the perfect spot. Marco picked up the speed of his sucking as a haze filled his mind.
After Marco swallowed his Master’s cum, he looked at the man with empty eyed devotion in his eyes. He knelt waiting for the man, who stepped away for a moment and returned with a steel collar, the name “Marki” on it and snapped it around his neck. Marki felt complete now that Master had marked it like that. It knew that it would be a very obedient boy for Master.