BMOC: Black Mage on Campus, Chapter 7: A Season in HELL—Part 3

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We were dragged into a room with four chairs, all of which were bolted to the floor. The Guards roughly handcuffed us and then shackled our legs to them. It was the first time I had gotten a good look at my fellow prisoners, since we had left the box.

To my right was Abe. I hadn’t seen him in so long, that I barely recognized him. It was Abraham the Olympian. When we were in the box he had been a huge wall of mass like a lineman. He had been the first to disappear and it looked like all his time here had been spent cutting that size into huge sculpted steroid muscle. He was still massive. Maybe 265 now… but each of his bloated muscles were defined and molded to absurd perfection. His Traps were giant mountains that swallowed his big hormone fed neck. His arm and pec’s were giant monuments of distorted musculature that rested on a distended cobblestone roid gut. Huge carved quads lead into diamond sharp inflated calves. He looked like one of those FLEX magazine covers. He still had that petulant and sardonic expression on his self-important face. The Face however seemed drastically different.

In the box he had a chubby, fat face that made his self-pity and egotistical moodiness more profound. Now his big masculine jaw was defined and his face looked brutish. I realized quickly that he had been given some kind of facial surgery. His brow was definitely heavier, giving him a Neanderthal ridge above his eyes and his nose had been changed, giving it a thicker ridge and a hooked nostril. The subtle changes made for a drastic difference. The Cuban man now looked much more like he was a de-evolved Italian or Greek ogre.

Next to him sat Buck. Or what had once been Buck. The simple Country boy had probably had the most augmentation. I had seen him a few times in passing. When Psycho or Julio was taking me through my training exercises in the gym, he was usually on his way out. Buck’s amateur bodybuilder body was much bigger now, his young tight body even more of a spectacle of muscle. He was very tan and his short brown hair had grown out. It had been dyed an obscene blonde, the color of unnatural white sugar.

He sat fidgeting nervously, like a scared deer, ready to bolt or crumble at the slightest noise. He even had big DOE EYES now. I could tell they had done something to his eyes… giving him some kind of big wide eyed innocent look. He was wearing bright blue contacts and his pupils looked like the size of dinner plates. His nose had been reshaped into a cute little button nose, that upturned like a fucking rabbits. Buck’s masculine and handsome mug had been mutated into the cute compliant visage of a timid pretty boy. His big chest was wrapped in bandages and so was his throat. When I had seen him in passing, he was usually dressed in some ridiculously humiliating exercise out-fit. Buck was always decked out in colors like Hot Pink, Sun-flower Yellow, Electric Blue or Neon Violet. Now the little hometown beefcake was wearing Pink Leather Hot Pants and a pink tank-top with a “Hello-Kitty” Label. He looked humiliated and terrified… but not angry.

Of course, the over-confidant assistant district attorney was there too. He looked like he dropped about thirty pounds and was seated on a big medical pillow. His entire lower body was bandaged and mummified. Wesley Simon’s hollow cheeks and gaunt features were a sharp contrast to the healthy suburban body he had come into the box with. Whatever they had been doing to him… they hadn’t been feeding him… that’s for damn sure. He didn’t look confident anymore either. He looked angry. VERY angry. Apparently the reality of the situation had sunk in.

There was familiar click of heels and Dr. Morrible entered, placing a chair in the circle and sitting her nasty bulk down firmly.

“Today I thought it would be beneficial to conduct some group therapy.” She announced sweetly. We all stared at her in silent hatred. “First off, I’d like each of you to tell the group exactly how you ended up here.” There was a deafening silence as all four of us, glared at her with murderous rage. She clicked her tongue irritably. “Any patient who chooses not to participate will be given 40 lashes and sent back to the box. All of you are in various states of surgical recovery. I find it is my duty as a healthcare professional to inform you that without proper care you would more than likely die of infection in the Box.”

We all cowered acknowledging our individual bandages and scars. My tight corseted waist was confined and made sitting difficult and I still was too terrified to even consider the thick gauze encasing my dick.

“Abe, why don’t you begin.” Her voice turned sharp and unrelenting. “NOW!”

The Muscle-bound academic, shrugged dejectedly. “I signed up for a rugby boot camp…” There was something different about the clipped verbose PhD. His eyes darted agitatedly as he spoke and he seemed to fumble with his memories. “When I showed up at the practice field… I was chloroformed and…” he stumbled again… straining to remember… “and… then…” Suddenly he flew into a roid rage. His vascular skin pulsed around the distended muscles of his biceps and triceps. He shook the chair and struggled with his girth. He roared like a beast and slobber began to slip from his lips. Morrible observed this and smiled, “Very good Abe. Now, Mr.Simon.”

Wesley Simon, gritted his teeth, and his now lanky frame twisted painfully on his big pillow. “I was jumped outside of my condo by a bunch of thugs.”

“Mhmmmhhmm..” Morrible didn’t even look up from her notepad, “Buck, how did you come to be one of our patients?”


I looked over at Buck. His eyes were red with tears. He shook his head and refused to speak. The poor kid looked disgusted and terrified.

The doctor reproached him like an affectionate teacher, “Now, now Buck… how are your vocal cords ever going to heal if you don’t exercise them?”

Vocal cords?

The bandages around his throat… they must have done something to his voice…

To his credit the altered townie, muscle-boy refused to speak. He kept his mouth tight and shook his silly blonde head in refusal.

“We’ve discussed this Buck. Either you participate in your rehabilitation or your Patron will not want to buy you.” Her voice was cold and ruthless. “In which case, I will have to add your participation in my research… Post Mortem.”

The bitch just told him flat-out; that he either played along or she would kill him.

Angry tears of humiliation leaked down his handsome face. He made several tries to clear his throat and when he eventually gathered the strength to speak, his voice came out in a high pitched and breathy soprano. The kid had had the deep bass of an uneducated simple weight lifter… “I made a deal with my ex-girlfriends uncle.” He squeaked. He sounded like Marilyn Monroe sucking on helium. A ditzy sex kitten’s phone-sex warble was all the poor bastard had to communicate. It was mortifying and horrible. “He said if I signed a contract to work for him, he wouldn’t report me to the state for not paying my child support.” The kid finished in a silly squeak. His tears came faster now, from listening to his own childlike and effeminate twitter.

“Oh Buck…” Morrible sympathized with false emotion, “don’t cry…” her smile was cruel, “Be happy.”

In immediate response, Buck let out a high pitched and breathy giggle of delight. He immediately clapped his hands over his uncontrollable outburst of bliss. His big doe eyes were horrified… but he had to continue to suppress the irrepressible twitter of girlish merriment. She didn’t even press a button this time. She just told him to do it… and he did.

I looked at poor mutilated Buck and prayed I didn’t end up like that.

Morrible smiled beatifically. “Very Good. Now… Leo” She said turning towards me. “I must admit, Dr. Heart has been very vague as to his acquisition of you. He’s only told me that you were bought from a third party.”

I looked the cunt dead in her fat face and blue eyes. “A sports agent tricked me into signing a two year contract. The Agent made, that faggot, Heart swear I’d be worth a million a year when my “training” was over.”

She put a note in her book and muttered, “Interesting.”

She set he book aside and walked toward a blank dry erase board. “Now the topic for today’s discussion is…” She wrote in big words on the board, “NO ONE IS COMING TO SAVE YOU- BECAUSE NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOU”

This got the entire group thrashing and protesting. We all yelled out our disagreement and she just smiled and waited for us to settle down.

Buck squealed like an agitated piglet.

Abe roared like a homicidal boar.

Wesley made several points of articulate conjecture.

I told the fat bitch my father was going to have them all in prison.

She laughed.

The Fat bitch laughed.

“Oh Gentleman, you are all so entertaining. You’re probably my favorite group yet. The ego’s of men and their belief that the world will not turn without them.”

Wesley calmed himself, and the confident litigator corrected her, “I’ve received enough threats at my office to know that my disappearance will be heavily investigated by both local authorities and the FBI. You’ve made a critical error, Madam. I’m a high profile attorney taking on the cities drug-rings. It’s just a matter of time until they find me.” His pompous counter argument was slightly marred by how he squirmed uncomfortably on his bandaged ass.

“Agreed.” She replied happily. “They would still be looking for you right now, if they thought you were alive.”

Wesley’s face clouded with uncertainty.

She continued, “You made quite a few enemies at the DA’s office Mr. Simon. Your climb up the ladder was done on the backs of all your colleagues. There is no one in the DA’s office that isn’t grateful you’re gone.” She said cheerfully. “Also, you were a major obstacle in the business of the city’s most affluent drug lords. I think they would have just had you killed…” Her lips curled into a snarl of delight, “But they really wanted you to suffer. There was such an interest in the drug-rings to ensure your capture, that they even arranged to have one of their thugs……confess to your murder.” She let the ramifications of this sink into the former DA’s mind. “So yes, they would find you… but they’re busy prosecuting your confessed murderer… so they’re not looking anymore.”

Wesley put his head down and began to sob.

“My Boyfriend loves me. He won’t give up looking for me.” Abe grunted obstinately.

This elicited a loud and cruel chuckle from Morrible. “Oh you stupid… stupid man. You are as dumb as a rock. Who do you think PUT you here.”

Abe immediately reacted angrily. “I AM NOT STUPID! I AM NOT STUPID! WHY DO YOU ALL KEEP CALLING ME THAT, I HAVE A PHD IN…” His big cave-man face twisted when he comprehended her ENTIRE statement. “What?” his face crumpled in tragedy as he grasped what she had said. “My Boyfriend… he was the one…”

“Oh yes,” The mad Dr. chirped, pulling a file from her bag, and read aloud, “When I met Abe at Rugby I thought he was a big ex-college jock, but I found out later he was just a condescending faggot with a good build. He hadn’t played a sport in his life and was embarrassing on the field. I thought I could deal with it and get him to put his genetics to good use, but he was such a wimp. All he did was complain and whine in the gym. What a waste. And his fucking attitude! I’m so tired of listening to his pompous lectures and intellectual bullshit. I’ve spent so much time listening to his pussy ass geek diatribe’s that breaking up with him isn’t enough. I put too much time into that lazy asshole. I want him to pay me back in muscle and ass.” She finished her reading with an inquisitive look at the muscle beast. She added giddily, “I want him to be the Hot Dumb man-beast I thought he was, and I want to whore him out to all our teammates. He’s deserves to be a mule for all the ‘jocks’ he thought he was better than. Send that stuck-up queen back to me, so I can make him the team fuck-toy and our new mascot.” She paused looking at Abe, “There are several other letter’s from your teammates that read quite similarly.”

His big face skewed in confusion, then slow understanding and then finally, in a howl of inhuman agony. He thrashed and raged like a captive elephant. His turmoil had him grunting and slobbering, unable to even form words.

“Where the fuck is LUCKY?!” I yelled, interrupting the fat cunt. “Why isn’t that sadistic fucker here?” Why were we all, bandaged, scared and tortured. Where was that big Irish fucker? Why wasn’t he here tied to a chair being told he was worthless? Morrible gave me a scary look, “LUCKY, does not require any therapy. Dr. Heart’s surgical augmentation of our UFC champion friend has… shall we say, effectively gelded him. He will not be refusing further rehabilitation. He’s quite fixed. Pray you don’t find your own… ahem… “Attitude” similarly “clipped”” Her smile was frightening, “now, Buck.”

“I know nobody is looking for me,” The made-up local muscle-head, whimpered.

“Quite right. Your ex-girlfriend hates you. Your two daughters barely know who you are. Your friends are basically drinking acquaintances and small town sluts. No one has even really noticed your missing.” He voice turned cold and flat, “So believe me when I tell you it will be quite easy to dispose of your body, should you not meet your buyer’s expectations.”

He let out a giggle of terror… his big doe eyes changing from frightened to ditzy.

I was hip to this fat bitch’s game, “You’re trying to intimidate us. Break our spirit so we don’t resist your treatment. This whole group therapy session is so we can watch each other break,” I spat at her, “Well it ain’t going to work you fat slag. No matter what you say I know my father will look for me. He’s got all the money in the world and he won’t stop.” I ignored the defeated sniveling of the men around me, and sat back happily.

Morrible didn’t even blink. “Correction.” She chimed. “I’m trying to illustrate to each of you, that circumstances being what they are, you should just give in and let nature take its course. There is no hope of escape.” Her blue eyes turned to icy- fire. “Hope is the only thing keeping you all from accepting your new lives and identities. Your old lives are dead and forgotten, best to build your hopes around your new ones.”

“My father…” I started but she cut me off.

“Your father believes that you have dipped into your trust fund, dropped out of school and are currently spending his money in every resort in the Caribbean” She responded.

“What?” that wasn’t possible.

She gave me a look of equal disbelief, “I don’t know how Dr. Heart managed that. It seems your whole rich, Republican family believes that you have gone AWOL with a big chunk of Daddy’s money and are pissing it away on a good time. They are not looking for you at all. There is talk amongst wall-street insiders that you are to be disinherited.”

I shrank back in my chair. The weight of the revelation made me want to vomit.

“Again I don’t know how Dr. Heart managed that but…”

“It wasn’t Dr. Heart,” I whispered with a sick feeling in my gut, “It was the Devil.”

“What?” she laughed incredulously. I stared at the bandages around my tortured waistline, beneath the bloated expanse of my chest muscles, “That wasn’t an agent that sold me to Dr. Heart. It was the Devil.”

“I think I might have to adjust your medication.” She mumbled wearily.

I looked straight at her, “IT WAS THE DEVIL! He did stuff to the other guys at campus, but he sent me here… and he bet Dr. Heart that he couldn’t break me.” My head swam from the crushing information that Dad wasn’t coming to my rescue. “That Demon used magic on the other guys but he sent me here to you monsters…” Morrible’s whole body went rigid, “…magic?”

“Yeah. He’s the Devil. He convinced my whole family of those lies and sent me to this hell… I still see him sometimes… he comes at night to watch me suffer… with those crazy blue eyes… like Nuclear Snow.”

Morrible was up and out of her chair like lightning. Her chubby clawed hand grabbed my chin and she was staring at me like a madwoman. “BLUE EYES?! Magic?! Did this devil have a name?”

“…I think they called him … Damien….” I choked out. She slapped me so hard my teeth rattled. “GUARDS! GET THESE MEN BACK TO THEIR CELLS!!! I WANT THEM ALL IN SOLITARY.” She screeched. As the guards lead us out, she continued barking orders, “Initiate all their subliminal behavioral programs, sedate them and put this whole facility on lock-down, until I get back!” She thundered.

The whole time she never took her furious blue eyes off of me…

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