BMOC: Black Mage on Campus, Chapter 7: A Season in HELL—Part 4

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I don’t know how long I lay strapped to my bed, drugged and my dick hard as a rock underneath my bandages. I woke-up sporadically. Those crazy Japanese cartoons were blaring in the background. The loud noises of cartoon explosions and the bright lights of ultra violet cartoon color bombarded my senses. In my drugged state of mind I found the flashing screens soothing and even found myself watching and laughing along with the ridiculous images. Once when I woke, several people in hospital scrubs were removing the bandages on my groin and replacing the tight constraints on my abdomen.

I dreamt a lot. Nightmares the ended like wet dreams. My mind patching together all the events with my real memories… making an awful quilt. I had dreams where I would come off the field during half-time. The Western Ravens had the lead, me and the coach giving the team hell in the locker room. My uniform seemed tight and my dick was rigid in my cup. I looked on the rapt and attentive faces of my teammates and thought about how handsome they all looked, sweating, flushed and ready to brawl…When we ran back onto the field for the second half, I was naked and my buddies held down as the entire Raven’s front line took turns raping me… More dreams… Me at the frat house shoving my dick into every pledge… Me in one of those stupid cartoons using my massive cock as a weapon…

When I finally reached full consciousness. I woke groggy and covered in cum, both sticky and dry… WAIT I was covered in cum? I threw the sheets back, in a fury of relief.


I still had my dick…


“Holy fuck…!!!!”

“It’s quite an impressive improvement.” A deep parental voice said from the corner of the room. I didn’t even look up at the voice. My dick was huge. It’s impossible. I had an impressive cock before but this was just fucking unnatural.

“It’s some of my best work.” The voice assured. I stared down at the fucking arm splayed across the expanse of my pale right thigh… my heart starting to race… oh god they fucking messed with my junk… what if it doesn’t … its so big… what if… oh shit … oh shit… A firm, gentle hand plopped down onto my lap.

I looked up into the fatherly eyes of Dr. Heart. Dr. Rhodry Heart stared at me with caring, reassuring green eyes. He was older and powerfully built. He had brown salt-and-pepper hair, immaculately clipped. His thick commanding jaw was covered in a snowy white goatee and his rugged face was roughly tanned… he gave the impression of a wrestling coach, cowboy and CEO.

“Don’t worry All-Star,” His deep confident voice told me. The drugs must have still been in my system because I just stared at the older man in captivated attention. “I’ve been doing reconstructive surgery for twenty years and I have two colleagues that have been doing elective plastic surgery for even longer.”

I nodded my head up and down dumbly. There was something familiar about his voice, like I had heard it over and over… like I had been listening to it for weeks… I felt like a small kid again, the guy had such a…. a presence… in the middle of all this torture, the steady voice of my captor was finally making me feel…safe? “It’s so big…”

His big hand grabbed the flaccid expanse of my swollen shaft. His eyes held mine, and we just stared at each other eye to eye, “We measured it flaccid at 9 inches, erect you’re able to hold a 11 to 12 inch length.” He rumbled quietly. His hand began to gently stroke the monster on my thigh, and my toes curled from the sudden rush of stimulation. “It’s a complicated and delicate procedure.” His hand became firmer as the huge around my swelling erection. Having my dick confined for so long, not getting any feeling from it made the sensation new and overpowering. I could actually FEEL the blood rushing toward it. “First,” His intense voice explained, “We graft skin from the elbow and lengthen the shaft, but first we elongate the urethra using Alloderm and then a subcutaneous silicon implant is inserted around the base of the phallus, along the pubic bone. The grafted skin is attached around the implant, creating a longer shaft.” His strokes become slow and deliberate, “You have to be very careful in the graft, so the patient doesn’t lose any…” his strong fingers played a quick staccato on my ram rod hard shaft,”…sensation. After the graft and extension are placed, the penile cylinders with-in your shaft are filled with silicon and collagen… which is designed to add massive girth… it’s also why your flaccid penis is so long. The skin remains stretched over the already extended penile shaft.”

His hand pumped up and down on the giant dong that flagpoled from my crouch. I’m breathing heavy and my hands are gripping the bed sheets. Sweat is dripping down my muscled chest, and I can’t stop looking in his eyes. “Finally, the head of the penis is given a silicon implant to augment the shape of the phallus tip,” His thumb clamped down on the giant mushroom shaped doorknob cock-head. “The phallic base implant also gives a subtle electric stimulation to the nerve endings, ensuring nerve death is not suffered in the patient.” His warm face broke into a grin, “It’s like a pacemaker for your Cock. It also has the added benefit of keeping you consistently physically erect and constantly horny…” He grabbed the back of my head, forcing my panting and flushed head into his big chest, “You like that don’t you Leo?” his stokes became brutal.

“Do you like that Leo?” He masturbated me hard and fast.

I couldn’t think.

I felt the weight of his muscled chest against my cheek. I felt the strange new awareness in my huge dick. I gagged from so much pleasure going up and down and up and down… there was so much dick flesh between my legs… his hand was so strong… “I…ah … I… Ah…AHHHHHHHH!!!!!” I screamed, blowing a load that shot across the room… and passed out…

When I eventually came to, the Doctor was gone and I just stared dumbly at the baseball bat between my hairless pale legs. I guess all the time underground had leeched the athlete’s tan from me… and they must be shaving me while I sleep… My skin looked almost ghostly pale… making the powerful muscles of my quads and hamstrings look like they were carved out of limestone. Eventually Julio showed up at my door, and ushered me to the gym. It was the same sets of pull-ups… chest presses, barbell curls, and shrugs… it was like all he they had me do was upper body. Julio encouraged me happily in his broken Spanish and kept looking at awe at my new development. He had me wearing some ridiculous briefs, which I guess were to be my new “uniform”. They looked like adult “Underoo’s”. Bright Blue bands and Japanese cartoon characters tightly hugged my ass muscles and the ludicrous growth of my schlong. As I pumped and pulled my way through the work out, I could feel the steroids pumping in my ears, and my new cock tented the tiny cartoon briefs. I had just finished a set of 140lb dumbbell presses, when without a word; Julio came over and tugged the tight underpants down. He was excitedly releasing the big dragon.

Oh yeah, that’s what it was.

It was a dragon.

I don’t know when I came up with that name but I know that’s what it is.

It was a big demanding dragon.

The roided up Latino trainer collapsed on his knees and went to worshipping my dragon like a man dying of thirst. His big Hispanic cocksucker lips kissed and sucked. He seemed to be insanely trying to deep throat me, becoming frustrated when he couldn’t devour the entire massive cock. He slurped along my shaft adoringly, as I just leaned back and enjoyed the wild new sensitivity of my fuck rod. I spurted all over his pretty face. He grinned broad and satisfied.

“I’m so glad to see, that you’re recuperating with such tenacity.” Morrible stood in the door to the gym, flanked by two gun wielding guards.

“Pull up your briefs and come along, now.” Julio handed me a huge Protein shake that I gladly gulped down. I pulled up the stupid briefs. There was huge tire shaped wet spot on the stupid underoos. I ignored it and lumbered after the fat bitch.

I fell in behind her and she gave me a lascivious smile, “I just have to make a few “rounds” before we can begin,” She patted my still swollen dragon affectionately, “I hope you and your ‘buddy’ don’t mind tagging along.”

The crazy fat bitch certainly had changed her tune since the last time I saw her. We stepped into, what I guessed, was Abraham’s room. It was ridiculously decorated. A massive water bed sat off to one side, covered in leopard print sheets. Huge posters of various pro-bodybuilders covered one wall. There was a mirrored ceiling and every piece of furniture looked like cheap Greek style marble columns. As we entered a side room I noticed on the bureau was a stack of FLEX magazines, a coloring book… and a …Italian passport… with Abe’s now gargantuan face smiling stupidly… the name underneath read clearly, “Rocko Dumbono” In the next room, every one of my secret fears greeted me with a bone chilling scream.

The scream came from Abe. The massive Hulk was restrained in a very complicated chair. His shaved gargantuan skull was covered in electrodes and his big steak eating mouth was clamped down on a bite guard. His steroid abused muscles strained and flexed at the restraints. His vascular swelling muscled bellies pulsed with agony. He was grunting and shaking like an oak tree about to split. “Electro Shock.” Dr. Morrible offered without me asking.

My stomach dropped. I suddenly realized I was standing there with a big dong shaped hard-on tenting cute little cartoon briefs as a man was being tortured with electric shocks to his brain.

Oh my God.

What is happening to me.

Abe’s big face was skewered in pain. The heavy folds of his HGH Hormone augmented cheeks and jaws were constricted in pain as he bit down on the mouth piece with all his might. His big muscled body shook with convulsions.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” I told her.

She ignored me and went about checking read out’s from various machines and surveying the guards’ progress. “It’s incredibly effective. Short-term Electro-shock therapy is often used to treat severe depression…” She looked fondly at the goliath in the chair, “which I would stipulate that Abraham had arguably presented with… what with his pessimistic and negative attitude…”

“He was just a mopey queer.” I told her.

“You say tomato,” She looked at me, as Abe was given another jolt which forced his massive frame to arch into the air. “The side effects of short-term treatment,… roughly a shock session every six months, are short term memory loss, cognitive breakdown and behavioral changes. All of which I of course find completely acceptable.” She smiled happily and pulled a pamphlet from her medicine bag, “My esteemed colleague, Psychiatrist Peter Breggin chief editor of the journal of Ethical Human Psychology and Psychiatry, however disagrees…” She made a fake pouting face and read aloud, “He describes it as follows: Although Patients can continue to function on a superficial social basis, they nonetheless suffer devastation of their identities due to the obliteration of key aspects of their personal lives. The loss of the ability to retain and learn new material is not only humiliating and depressing but also disabling.” She put the paper down. I looked at Abe’s shaved and scarred temples, “You said Short-term treatment… how much are you giving him…”

Morrible chirped excitedly, “Oh about one a day. And I use the much disapproved of, Bilateral method. It’s very dangerous.” She did a little dance of malicious pride, “Buzz Buzz Buzz. Doctor Heart gave Abe the juice to make him a muscle Beast; I’m giving him the Juice to make him behave like one.” She laughed, clapping her hands in appreciation.

I watched the big bodybuilder shiver and drool. His body was naked except for a pair of shiny garish green posers. They were the kind of posing straps that pro’s wore on stage. His junk wiggled lewdly with every pulse from the machines.

“You’re going to make him a vegetable…” Bile rose to the back of my throat.

“Oh no,” She assured me. “With every bit of thought that goes out… I shove a new one in.” She pointed to the walls of his room and I saw just how affective her treatments had been. One wall was covered in dark ink and written over and over again was the phrase,

“My Name is Abraham Remero. I have a PhD in Theoretical Engineering. I am not dumb as a rock. I Will not surrender.”

“My Name is Abraham Remero. I have a PhD in Theoretical Engineering. I am not dumb as a rock. I Will not surrender.”

“My Name is Abraham Remero. I have a PhD in Theoretical Engineering. I am not dumb as a rock. I Will not surrender.”

The phrase repeated in flowing script across the right wall… over and over again with the meticulous hand of a man resisting his confinement. Each line had a mark to indicate how many time he had written it. The script grew more and more jagged and then suddenly on the next wall it read: “My name is Abe. I am a Doctor. I am not a rock. I will get out. I will not give up”

“My name is Abe. I am a Doctor. I am not a rock. I will get out. I will not give up”

…Those lines didn’t last very long… they eventually degraded into. “I am Abe. I am not a rock. I am Abe. I am Smart. I am not a rock. I will Work out. I am Smart. I am Abe. I am smart. I will Work out. ” And then finally in big words scrawled wildly, “I am Abe. I am a Rock. I will Werk OUT. I am a Rock. I am Rock. I will werk out. I am Rock. I will give-up. I will werk-out. I am a rock. I will give up. I will Werk-out.”

The final wall was unfinished, but had been started. The ink was gone. She must have given him crayons instead, to add to his humiliation. All the colors of the rainbow, spelled out in a child’s handwriting. “I M ROCKO. I M A BODYBillder. I will WerkOut and Fuck up.” “I M ROCKO. I M A BODYBILLDER. I WILL werkout AND FUCK UP.”

At the bottom, the same wild hand looked like it had been guided to write, “I M ROCKO DUMBONO. I M A BODYBILLDER. I WILL FUCK AND WERKOUT.”


There were three fresh lines and an open box of crayons on the floor, the lines read “I M ROCKO DUMBONER. I M A BODYBILLDER. I LUV 2 FUK N WERKOUT”, “I M ROCKO DUMBONER. I M A BODYBILLDER. I LUV 2 FUK N WERKOUT”, “I M ROCKO DUMBONER. I M A BODYBILLDER. I LUV 2 FUK N WERKOUT”

I looked at the immature writing… then to the big steroid abused beast in the chair… and finally at Dr. Morrible. Her eyes were alight with a fanatic joy. “It was surprisingly easy, after the group session. Of course the steroids and hormones keep him very horny … but the constant bombardment of his new identity seems to have become the new dominant personality. He won’t know who Abe was.” She patted one of his massive, bloated pectoral muscles, “We keep him in sensory deprivation with just video loops of footage of his workouts over the last months… some hardcore homosexual pornography… and of course the subconscious background track of his new identity. His trainers tell me his workouts have never been better.” She pulled a little sticker from her bag and put a big gold star on his forehead.

She patted his brutish slackjaw face affectionately, “You know how academics love getting a good grade.” She turned to the guards, “Okay boys, let’s get him washed up and then put him back in sensory deprivation… and this time… add some of those “Jersey Shore” reruns to the loop… let’s see what that does!” She giggled.

She led me back to my room, but before she locked the door behind me, I asked. “Why are you showing me all this. Why…me?”

“Because I work best with a ‘captive’ audience.” She joked. Her face then darkened, “Also I want to keep an eye on you Leo…” Her voice tightened, “I want to make sure that you’re not getting anymore nocturnal visits from mythological allegories.”

“You mean Damien?”

She reflexively raised her hand to hit me again, but restrained herself. “Name the devil and he appears,” She swore. “Don’t talk about your delusions again!”

She slammed the door and I was left alone in my room. The only sound was my vomiting and those crazy Asian Cartoons playing in the background.

The next day my trainer was Psycho. The big muscled, erratic skinhead was wearing leather shorts and his crazy eyes were fixed on my huge bulge. “Son- o-Bitch Dat’s A big Pecker.” He slapped my ass hard. “You’re one lucky fucker!!! The Aliens must be making you a breeder too!!!”

I ignored him… and the explicit ramifications of his statement. I did however agree… at least I wasn’t going to end up being some bottom boy ass-whore with this ammunition between my legs.

He put me to work on the bench press; my strength has become insane with all the juice. I’m pressing up 8 plates as the crazy punk jabbers on and on about what an elephant trunk I have between my legs. “10!” I roar, and then sit my sweaty, pumped body upright, “It’s not a trunk.” I growled. “It’s a dragon.” Correcting him gave me a rush of pride.

His googly eyes got bright, “Ya fucker! It’s a dragon!” He slaps me hard on the shoulder. His horseshoe shaped nose ring and his big tit-rings vibrate as he laughs proudly.

We move on to Decline Presses… and then Julio and Buck walk in.

Or in Buck’s case… prance in.

Poor fucking Buck.

The reason for the bandages covering his chest were now, painfully obvious. He was wearing a bright yellow string tank top, whose neck hung right bellow his tits. They were tits. Not like female breasts but big fake and wide pectoral muscles that ballooned outward from his already overdeveloped young frame. They had given the amateur bodybuilder implants. His muscular arms hung akimbo as he tried to work out around his new obviously cumbersome enhancement. He was wearing little polka dot white shorts, that showed off his muscled and hairless, super tan legs.

Julio was dressed in a similarly ridiculous get up. Buck saw me and he blushed bright red all the way up to his peroxide hair. He gave me a humiliated look and went to his workout with Julio. I shook my head in disgust and continued on with Psycho.

Buck was doing heavy barbell curls with 45s on either side… 12 repping them out like a monster, all the while looking like a Barbie doll.

I was shocked to see him drop the weights, panting and sweating…and then lean over and kiss Julio. Not just kiss. Face fuck. The two muscle queens licked each other’s mouths clean. Then Buck picked up the weight and went back to work.

“What the fuck are you doing BUCK?” I yelled, as I jumped off the decline bench. Psycho was busy watching his pec’s jump up and down in the mirror. Julio gave me his usual dumb confused look, but Buck practically shrank in terror. His head twitched around in terror.

“I have to.” He squeaked in his sex kitten tweet. His huge doe eyes got wide with that weird giggling euphoria.

“You got to be a man and fight that crazy bitch.” I yelled.

He looked like he was going to cry or piss his pretty little shorts, “You don’t understand…” He wrung his big callused landscapers’ hands in fear, “She told me that I have to thank Julio for his help. If I don’t kiss him and…” His face was ashamed, “…and other stuff… She’ll punish me…”

“Jesus Christ Buck…”

Julio tapped me on my shoulder and gave me a stern look. Well as stern as the vapid Latin whore could manage, “Su nombre no es Buck. Su nombre es Bambi.”

“What?” I yelled! I could feel my pumped up testoserone raging in my ears. “What did you say you stupid Spic Cocksucker?”

Julio gave me a faggy pout and then put his gigantic arms on his narrow hips, accentuating his luscious (Not sure if that was the word or not.) latin butt, “Su nombre es Bambi. Usted debe llamarlo Bambi”

“Speak English faggot!”

Buck now completely in tears yelped, “He said my name isn’t Buck anymore… now they keep calling me Bambi.”

I stared at the young muscle guy. He had been an arrogant, coarse and eager young “Buck”, when he came here… but now looking at the silly queer hair and clothes, the huge chest… And the huge wide, hunted eyes brimming with fear… They had turned him into a Bambi.

Psycho came over and put a big hand on my shoulder, “Hey Dragon… stop scaring the pussy-boys with your fuck stick.” I looked down and realized that my massive enhancement was ram rod hard, bouncing past my waistband, and bobbing against my bellybutton. “Unless you wantafuckem?” His eyes got sick and angry.

He grabbed Julio by the hair with one hand and twisted the muscle bitch’s nipple with the other. Julio gasped and began to automatically rub his brown hands against Psycho’s pierced crotch. “I’m going to breed you.”

Buck.. or Bambi… gave me a look of absolute revulsion, “What? No… I…”

Psycho already had Julio’s big muscled ass over a bench and was holding on to the bands of his little pink jockstrap. Julio purred and encouraged him in Spanish.

God my Dick was hard.

Psycho spit on his hand and shoved his metal ornamented cock into Julio’s hungry hole, splitting the Latin trainer in half. Julio road his dick like a pro-hoe. I guess it should have weirded me out watching two men go at it. But it’s not like I didn’t shove my dick into half the buttholes in the Box. Julio was sweating and yelling in Spanish now. God his ass looked so tight.

It was so fucking Hard.

I had to stroke it.

God when this thing gets hard it’s like the only thing I could think about. I was double fisting it and watching Psycho rape the shit out the muscleboy… “YEAH!!” Psycho was screaming, “Gonna get you pregnant with my alien super jizz!”

Julio let out a throaty and distracted, “Sí, Loca, Sí…”

I looked over at “Bambi”. I could see his erection plain against the pansy-ass lycra of his shorts. He made a girlish attempt to cover his hard-on with his hands. He looked so pathetically embarrassed. I had gotten over the fact that my dick had a mind of its own now. In the box it was easy to say, that the hormones and the pills made me hard all the time, and that I HAD to fuck the other men… But now… I didn’t even care. All the crazy shit I’ve seen? I couldn’t even look down at the pulsing beer can thick appendage between my legs and recognize it. Sure my dick had a mind of its own… it wasn’t even my dick anymore. My stroking increased. My hand grazed angrily on the fabric of my stupid underoo’s… purple today with Yu-Gi-Oh cards all over it.

A fucked-up thought popped into my head, “Yo… Bambi,” I asked mockingly, “If I’m wearing these… what are you sporting.”

Buck… er Bambi stuck out his pretty little lip and pulled down his shorts to reveal a pair of tight pink panties, that did nothing to cover his pubes and jutting dickhead.

Shit… but that muscled body looked defeated in that get-up.

His eyes were locked on my Giant Schlong, in awe. I had had my cock up his over trained ass before… I could slide those panties down like a sorority chick and dominate his big buff body… I thought about him squirming on my beast… but felt a pang of sympathy for the poor emasculated bastard and said… “Come here, and just suck me off.”

Bambi, had shame painted clearly all over his pretty face, knelt down and began to worship my dragon like a good girl.

His tongue was Pierced!

Holy Shit.

True Blue Cockhound.

His tongue attacked my tool like the beast it was. He slobbered and gurgled around the length, while I pumped the giant mushroom head in-and-out of his cheeks, distorting his pretty face.

I heard Psycho roar in triumph as he seeded Julio’s muscle cunt. I grabbed my former buddy’s ditzy- blonde head and slapped my pulsing dick against it. All four of us leaned back, breathing heavy and spent.

“Why Leo, thank you so much for helping further Bambi’s training! You’re such a good friend!” Dr. Morrible announced as she waddled into the gym.

Fucking bitch…

She gave Bambi a stern look, “Now. Now, young man. What have I said? Waste not, Want not.” He gave her a look of defiance and tried to hastily pull up his panties and lycra shorts.

“Do it or suffer.” She warned.

With a crushed little whimper, the young athlete fell to the ground and began licking-up all the hot cum I had just rained down on him. I don’t think I’d ever seen anything more pathetic, than that small-town lady’s man, on all fours, with his big ass in the air and his giant fuckbags hanging down, mewing and licking up my warm seed.

It made me hard again.

“Now, now Leo, time for that later, follow me.”

I tried to walk with my swinging sausage bumping against my thighs. I began to follow her out. I turned to see Julio holding Bambi… as he cried his eyes out. The two big muscle queens just held each other, sharing affectionate kisses, as Bambi sobbed like a ten year-old. Weren’t they a pair? Julio with his ass leaking cum. Bambi with his face covered in it.

I stand corrected.

That was the most pathetic thing I had ever seen.

“You’ve got that man terrified.” I muttered, as the fat scientist guided me down the hall.

“Not really.” She shrugged, “Anxiety and Paranoia are just side effects of his medication… Side effects that I am putting to good use.”

“Medication?” I stopped dead and the balloon animal between my thighs started to deflate.

She gave me a wicked grin. “Little Bambi, is my “chemistry project” I’m carefully regulating his behavior through closely monitored and very specific medication.” The smile grew wider, “He doesn’t know it of course… He thinks it’s all his actual reactions.”

She turned and began walking quicker.

I had to rush to meet up with her, my floppy cock actually got caught between my legs and I stumbled.

“Careful with that third leg. It’s very expensive.” She laughed.

“What drugs are you giving him?” I was concerned. If they were doping up Buck without him knowing… maybe they were… no… not possible. I knew what they had me on. Hormones, roids… something to make me horny… other than that, I was perfectly normal… I was normal…

Morrible stopped and considered “Well first off, a healthy dose of amphetamines. Prolonged exposure makes him energetic, erratic, horny and disrupts rational thinking. On the down side it makes him skittish, paranoid and very anxious. It does however keep his water retention low, making his muscles very tight.”

I followed her, “Speed?”

She gave me an offended look, “Yes that is the vernacular. He is also given mild doses of rhohypnol to make him suggestible and compliant. That is combined with an almost inconsequential amount of MDMA and lithium. That cocktail seems to keep him pleasantly docile and euphoric.” She stopped at a heavy door, where I could hear the sound of heavy struggle and groans of pain, from the other side. She paused, “The most difficult prescription to balance has been the estrogen.”

“WHAT? I thought Doctor Heart had us all on roids to keep us hard-bodied and hot.” I spat incredulously.

“He does.” She answered flatly. “However I am trying to introduce higher levels of estrogen into “Bambi’s” system while balancing the already aggressive testosterone supplementation. It’s a very difficult chemical equation and I have to constantly monitor his hormone levels.” The bitch actually sounded exhausted, like it was such a trial to completely fuck up a man’s life. “Psychopharmacology has never been my favorite field, it’s tedious and unpredictable.” Her tiredness passed and she gave me her maniacal smile, “It is proving worth-while, however. You saw how emotional and prone to hysterics he is? With all the hormones crushing into his skull he’s like a pregnant woman. Did you see his chest? The nipple’s on those muscled airbags that Doctor Heart gave him, are now giant pancake sized, uber-sensitive, brown… G-spots.”

“All those drugs… That kid will never be the same… you’re going to kill him…” I wailed.

“If you’re going to make an omelet, you’re gonna have to break some eggs.” Morrible retorted, “Enough about Bambi, frankly his treatment has been so routine, that it bores me…”

She opened the Door, “Let’s talk about Wesley…” Wesley Simon was the most fucked of all of us. I thought the shock therapy were giving Gabe was bad… Wesley was seated in a huge spherical apparatus. It was metal and had swinging hinges that rotated him in a full 360 degrees. He was naked, and his now fatless and lean frame oozed sweat. I could now see why he had been sitting on a pillow and had had his entire ass bandaged. There were no bandages now. Doctor Heart must have given the DA the most absurd Glute implants known to medicine. Wesley’s butt was huge and swollen beneath his long whip cord thin and sculpted back. His newly transformed mammoth ass swiveled in and out of my view, as his rotating, gravity defyingchair slowly orbited him around. His butt was huge. I watched in sick interest as those big cheeks shook back and forth sporadically. With every rotation his big Ass cushions quivered rhythmically. A big rubber phallus, jutted from his abused hole and was obviously vibrating along with the rotation of the bizarre chair. Ons second he was doggy-style, another missionary, another cowboy… another swivel cowgirl… in the space of five minutes he was fucked in every position possible. Round and round it slowly spun making him a living model for Anal Karma Sutra. His face finally floated into view. His whole head was covered in bandages, much like Bambi’s had when I first saw him. But I could see his eyes… they were wild… wide-eyed and completely incoherent. A mesmerized Zombie on a stick.

I stumbled back in shock.

“Mr. Simon is enjoying my current experimentation with prolonged, stimulation, destabilization, disorientation and sleep deprivation.”

I watched the DA’s big ass quiver again, “…Sleep Deprivation…”

She ushered me out the door, closing it on the carnival ride from hell. “Yes. Mr. Simon has been given regular Doses of LSD to keep him alert… and shall we say… fragile?”

“How long has he been like that…”

“A few days maybe… weeks… It’s hard to keep track.”

“What’s it supposed to do.”

She laughed in genuine mirth, “I don’t know… that’s why it’s an experiment.”

“This is funny to you?!” I yelled.

She chortled ruthlessly, “Life is short Leo, laugh whenever you can…. If you can’t find your sense of humor… I can always find one for you.” That last part sounded like a threat. I thought of that poor guy being mercilessly tortured by this crazy bitch. I thought of how broken Buck was. I thought of the senseless look in Abe’s once bright eyes.

I found my inner rebellion.

No matter what drugs they had pumped into me… no matter how beaten down I was… she finally got me to react. I hauled off and punched her dead in the face. She tumbled backward like a sack of grain. I heard the crunch of glass as her spectacles cracked under my bare feet.

Pain and the loss of body control swept over me. I could feel the TASER puncture my skin and jolt me over and over. I lay twitching and screaming on the hard tiled floor. My mind was unfocused. All I could do was twitch as I pissed all over the ground and strangled gurgles of pain. The Guards hauled me off the floor and the last thing I saw was Morrible sitting up… with the beginnings of a black-eye and the most disgusting look of pleasure on her fat face. I think the punch actually turned the Fat bitch on…

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