NOTICE: All the Standard warnings about being of age, being aware of your community standards apply to the following story! Please read no further if you are underage 18/21--or live in a conservative area--or are offended by explicit sexual stories. This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to anyone is strictly coincidental.
Synopsis: Men who commit crimes are taken to an island for punishment. They are put through inspections and into sexual service rooms. This is the first part of the story, but the section is complete. Others will follow if readers like the theme.
Arriving at the Medina Asylum for Wayward Boys on an island off the coast of Belize, I was amazed at the beauty and the seclusion of the site. I had taken almost an hour to take the boat ride from Remolpan to this small island where the asylum was located. According to my guide, who worked for the Director, this asylum had been built almost thirty years earlier, and had served as a haven for young men who were in trouble or without homes from all over the world. I had been recruited as a young physician who could assist with medical services. The previous doctor, an aged Argentine, had died a month earlier. I had been approached almost a year ago, had visited the island, and after much thought had decided that the offer of a five year contract and more money than I could hope to make in my small practice (plus fringe benefits), were worth the commitment to this obscure, remote place.
Mr. Velasquez, the Director, met me at the office. "Hello, Dr. Vernon, I am delighted that you will be staying with us. I have arranged for you to examine the latest group of boys to arrive at the island for a stay. Then later, I would be honored if you joined me after dinner for an evening of entertainment." My cock stiffened in my white suit pants when he smiled mischievously and winked when he mentioned "entertainment." I proceeded quickly to the examination rooms, I wanted to begin immediately.
Exam Room 1
As I pulled on my white smock cock, and washed my hands, I could see the young man strapped into the gynecological chair in the middle of the room. A small stainless steel cart was next the chair, and on it were all the tools I would need. Each exam room was outfitted in a similar way, though in some there were padded tables rather than chairs.
The dossier on JEREMY ALLEN CARTER indicated that he was 21 years old, a runaway from his parole for petty theft from a small county in upstate Vermont. He had been in and out of juvenile facilities since he had been sixteen, but until his recent arrest had been working as a mover for a local company. He had fallen in with a couple of older guys who were pilfering from moving jobs they were assigned. Mr. Velasquez's connection in New York City had arranged for Jeremy to be picked up in a small town where Jeremy had run out on his bail prior to trial.
He was 5'11", 165 lbs, blond hair with dark roots. His eyebrows were dark brown, as was the hair under his arms, in his ass crack, and running from between his pecs down past his navel to his groin. Jeremy had classic if common features, a sharp nose, small ears, green eyes, and thick blond hair on his arms and down his legs, curling down to reach both fingers and toes. His pale ass was firm and flexing, as I walked in front of him. His strong legs were strapped into the stirrups, spread wide apart and raised. I ran a finger up the pale sole of a nicely shaped and muscled size 10 foot, long toes curling reflexively to avoid the ticklish sensation; I smiled.
Jeremy was gagged to allow his breathing and indecipherable grunting and groaning, and his eyes were wide. He had just arrived an hour before, and had no idea that he would be a patient at the asylum for as long as Mr. Velasquez thought appropriate, usually not longer than six months to a year. No one would find him, no one was prepared to look.
His arms were fixed to soft lined brackets above his head on the chair, exposing the muscular, pale underarms. I noticed that small drops of sweat that rolled down his arm pit, to his torso. On one upper arm was tattooed the name "Mary" and on the pale skin below his tan line and above his cock bush was a cobra poised to strike. Like the short (five inches), sharply curved pale cock that jutted up towards me---not erect, but permanently arched to strike even when flaccid, his cobra reflected a pride he would not exercise on his own again for some time. His eyes followed my every move, his breathing beginning to increase in speed. My eyes were fixed on the dark, fat plum of his dick knob, with its deep piss grove and wide flange. If his prick was short, it was thick and the huge prick tip was a palm full.
I spoke in measured, calm tones: "Jeremy, I need test your reflexes and make sure you're in good operating condition. Don't be frightened, I won't hurt you, but you need to cooperate." I emphasized the last word, and stopped smiling so that he could not misunderstand my intent. His eyes widened, and he grunted behind the gag, but he looked fearful as much as his useless attempts to gyrate and get loose suggested resistance.
My fingers went up to his eyes, looking into each with the scope in a very official and focused way. Next I looked into his ears, and then used my finger to tickle each one after I had finished. His head moved to avoid my touch, but I looked at him and shook my finger, reminding him of his duty. He just looked wide-eyed as I proceeded. I scratched a nail under each arm, making him gasp and rock to avoid the irritation. I used the same nail to etch his firm abdominal muscles, then probed it into his belly button, worrying out any lint that might be hidden as his stomach muscles flexed and roiled to eject the ticklish invader. I moved between his legs, leaned over and placed both of my palms against his firm breasts. The taut pecs stiffened even more, and when my thumbs and forefingers closed on the pale, pink paps---his dick erected and his grunts increased as he pressed back into the chair trying to shrink from my touch. I wet both sets of fingers with a long, calculated lick of my tongue, and then returned the fingers to roll his titties till they were red, stiff, and jutting. Then I drew my fingernails across each, alternating my scratching and rolling till his breaths became gasps, his eyes closed, and his dick started to drip clear fluid from the well below his piss lips.
I lowered my lips to his right nipple, then drew my ragged nails against his scrotum as it rested on the padded chair, now moist with his perspiration. He jumped, and his eyes opened from both sensations, and then I scratched lightly against the cord of flesh that led back to the darkness behind his big boy balls. I smiled as I looked into his terrified eyes.
Stepping back, I slipped on the surgical gloves, and dipped my finger into a lubricant jar on the cart. I picked up several small dildoes, some with spikes, and one slender one with a band of horsehair bristles sticking out behind the small artificial prick tip. Sweat broke out on his upper lip, and he grunted and groaned, pleading with me. I put all the devilish tools down, there would be many more days to try those. Instead, I simply raised the stirrups, lifting his legs further and forcing his butt to raise off the edge of the chair. The seat parted, and I had an unobstructed access to the clenching muscled butt, and the dark hair that could not protect his virgin ass hole from my investigation. Gently spreading away the sweat musky hair in the crack, and scratching lightly at his knotted portal, I insidiously tickled and wormed the long, thick forefinger of my right hand up his gripping, resisting hole. By using my other hand to scratch and tickle his armpits, his tits, and ears, I could get him to briefly unclench his asshole, and my finger would slip up a bit more each time.
When I reached the hard little joy button deep within his bowels, his eyes rolled then closed and his gasps and grunts increased behind the gag. His butt sought to raise away from my worrying finger, then reflexively, he ground down bouncing his starved prostrate against my firm finger. I reached up with my other hand, and closed my callused fist around the now sloppy wet spike of his 5" cock, curved like a half-moon up toward his navel. As he bounced, I spiraled my fist, palming the fat prick knob, scrubbing its tingling tip and focusing on where his curved rod exposed the piss lips and circumcision scar. In less than a minute, Jeremy spasmed, his butt gripping my finger tight, his glans swelling obscenely. Using my thumb to scrub the piss lips, and poking my index finger mercilessly against his prostrate, I forced Jeremy to spit long ropes of thick gism into the air. I lowered my mouth, and sucked up the remaining cum as it rolled out of his prick, knowing that he was HIV negative according to his chart. He ground his ass to escape the ticklish sensation of my vacuuming lips on his prick knob, but that only forced him deeped onto the irratating finger deep up his bowels. Then I removed my mouth, and went back to a slow and deliberate massage of his dick knob with my fist while my finger still poked the now exhausted nut up his butt. Uggggghhhhhhh, Jeremy groaned, hoping that I would stop, his handsome features wet with sweat and jerking from the continuing sensitivity of his prick tip, and the pressure uncomfortably continuing up his ass. I had already decided to work out another load.
Jeremy needed practice; those balls might need to produce three or four loads per occasion, and you never knew when he might be attacked to a milking machine for the pleasure of some guest. I could imagine the sucking, twirling attachment, sliding up and down his curved, fat spike, and adorned with little attachments that could masturbate a dead man. I looked at his curled toes, fuck what a piece of flesh. He would be a favorite in the playrooms.
I temporarily removed my finger from his asshole, and took off the glove so I could tickle under his arms and on the soles of those sexy feet. But I continued jerking his prick, and much to my satisfaction, Jeremy stayed hard and started to leak pre-cum all over again. Yes, he would be a favorite in the play rooms.