A New Life - Month 01 Pt. 01

In the confines of my cage, i lost even more track of time than i did at home ... and yes, it did strike me that i had already come to think of Mistress's house as my home. There were no clocks; the lights were raised or lowered without warning, but never too bright or completely dark; i was fed at what appeared regular intervals (the food was bland, nearly tasteless "puppy fare"); and I was taken out into a fenced-in area behind the facility to exercise with other boys though no speaking among us was permitted.

On what my rumbling stomach told me was likely the morning of my second full day, instead of being fed, a Technician came for me with a gurney pushed by male slave. When She ordered me up onto the gurney, i asked "Am i being taken for my procedure, Ma'am?"

This caused Her to put Her hand firmly on my tummy, look down at me, and say firmly: "I do NOT remember giving you permission to speak."

"i'm sorry, Ma'am," came my weak reply.

She softened a bit and moved Her hand to my ab, where my new name was marked. "Don't worry, tup. you'll be fine. Just remember your place."

With that, She nodded to the slave, who wheeled me down the corridor to a small surgical theater. Under bright lights, a female surgical Assistant prepped me in silence, cleaning and sanitizing not just my penis, but my entire nether regions in an efficient, clinical manner. Just as She finished, Dr. Evans entered the room and leaned down over me to say "Good morning, tup."

Before i even had a chance to respond, Dr. Evans looked over to Her Assistant, who had moved to the head of the gurney, preparing the anesthesia, to say "We're gelding this one, right?"

As i tensed, not knowing if i should blurt out an objection, a correction, She looked down at me, eyes twinkling above Her surgical mask. "Just kidding, tup. you're just getting skinned today. you get to keep your balls, for a while at least."

With that, She nodded to Her Assistant, who lowered the gas cone over my nose and mouth. As i slipped under, the last thing i remember is Them joking about my reaction. "boys are SO worried about those little things when, honestly, they're much happier..."

I woke with a start, eyes blinking in the unfamiliar surroundings, the soft lighting and muffled sounds of a post surgery ward. my head throbbed bit from the anesthesia., and when i tried to move my arms, i realized that my wrists were bound to the sides of the examination table i had been laid on. my movement must have attracted the attention of the technician on duty because i heard the sound of a chair rolling back and then approaching footsteps. As She stood over me, She checked Her tablet, then asked: "Back with Us, tup?"

"Yes, Ma'am," i answered, my words sounding strange, from what i thought at first must just be a dry, fuzzy mouth as a result of the surgery.

As She put Her table aside and reached down to examine my flaccid penis, i tried testing my voice again. "Did everything go well, Ma'am?"

In the few moments She took to respond, i could reflect on the fact that my tongue seemed swollen, like it was too big for my mouth, causing me to slur my words. When She answered, Her tone had an edge of real irritation to it.

"tup, this is not a hospital and you are certainly NOT a patient. When you need to know something, you'll be told. Otherwise, I want to hear you speak only when spoken to. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am, i'm sorry" i replied, chastened.

Softened by my tone of contrition, She placed a hand on my tummy, and said: "It's OK, you're still learning." As She completed Her examination of my penis, She added: "you do need to know about your tongue, which your Mistress has had lengthened. It'll take you a few days to get used to it, but We have some diction lessons that will help. you'll be speaking normally again in no time."

Picking up Her tablet again, She tapped in a few things, then said: "Now, tup, I want you to rest for a bit longer here where We can monitor your vital signs. We'll take you back to your cage in a bit."

As She went back to Her workstation, She turned down the lights and i did my best to rest, enjoying the rare pleasure of not having to lie on the floor. After some time, the door to the post op suite opened and a Woman entered, telling the Nurse She had come to pick me up and take me back to my cage. i recognized the voice of the Technician who had "coded" me when i first arrived. Both of Them came over to my exam table and released my secured wrists. Speaking to the Nurse rather than to me, the Technician ran a nail over my right nipple, saying "These are SO cute."

At first, i thought She was referring to my piercings, but She had seen those before. "Yeah, I'm thinking about having my boy's areolas done in a heart shape, too." When She noted my cheeks flushing, the Nurse tapped my other nipple and laughed, "Don't worry, tup, these mean your Mistress likes you."

With that, the Technician attached the leash to my collar and led me back to my cage. As I walked, i did he best i could to glance down at my surgically altered cock. It didn't hurt at all, due to the marvels of advanced medical technology in the Empire. But after a lifetime of having a foreskin, it certainly looked odd not to see a "hood" covering my cock head. It also occurred to me that since awakening from the surgery, i'd not had an erection, despite being examined down there; and it took a moment for me to associate that with the new "worm" that had been placed in my dick.

When i had crawled back into my cage, the Technician directed my attention to a video screen on one of the walls. "When this screen comes on, tup, you'll be given a series of speaking exercises to help you gain better control of your longer tongue," She explained. "The exercises will pop up several times a day and you'll have a set period of time to complete them to Our satisfaction. Until We are satisfied with your progress, you won't be fed or walked. Is that enough incentive, boy?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good, get started on the first one. When you're done, I'll see that you're fed. Oh, and one more thing. I know you're very curious about your dick. you may look, but don't you dare touch it. Understood?"

As usual, all i could do was say, "yes, Ma'am."

With that, She left me in my cage, where i worked on my diction and became more accustomed to my longer tongue and my "skinned" cock. Over what i assumed were the next few days, i did my locution exercises (rarely failing them, never more than once) and saw marked improvement, my voice more or less returning to normal as i learned how to shape sounds better with my new, longer tongue.

After an exercise session as i dozing, i was surprised when the Technician opened my cage, attached the leash to my collar, and without a word led me to an examination room like the one where She'd bar coded me. "Up," She directed me to get onto the exam table on all fours. "Stay," She added simply before leaving me alone in the room.

I heard voices outside coming down the corridor before Mistress and Dr. Evans entered in mid conversation, the Veterinarian saying "... just fine. he spoke out of turn a couple of times, but that's to be expected with a nick. Overall, we had no trouble with him."

"Good," Mistress responded to Dr. Evans, before addressing me. "Hello, tup," She said, placing the back of Her right hand to my lips for me to kiss.

After i had properly returned Her greeting, She ordered me to kneel up and Dr. Evans walked Her through my alterations, beginning with my nipples. "We reshaped the nipples as you wanted, darkened them up, then replaced his piercings." Mistress expressed Her satisfaction and circled them with Her fingers, causing me to quiver. "Of course, we can always make them darker if you'd like, too."

Moving to my loins, Dr. Evan's cool, clinical fingers lifted my flaccid penis so that Mistress could clearly see the alteration. "Full skinning to expose his 'dick dome' at all times. No complications, smooth as can be, and will look even better if you decide to have him ringed."

"Wonderful," Mistress said, taking my cock from Dr. Evans. "That looks SO much better. And while I agree with you about a ring, I really haven't decided yet how I'm going to decorate his dick."

"Well, he's a nicely endowed boy, so you'll have a lot of choice," Dr. Evans remarked. "You'll have noticed that he's remained completely soft, which indicates that the worm is working. The Techs at the desk got you registered and hooked up?"

"Yes, they did," Mistress answered, glee obvious in Her voice.

"Give it a try," said Dr. Evans.

Mistress then moved Her fingers in a certain sequence and almost instantly my cock pulsed to life, engorging into a full erection in a matter of seconds. my cheeks flushed as i had absolutely no control over this; Mistress's reaction was to smile brightly and say to Dr Evans "very nice."

"Yes, indeed," said Dr. Evans. "This new generation of worms works very well. Inflate and deflate in the blink of an eye, virtually eliminate dick drool, you can control his pee as well, and You can easily transfer control to a friend or family member if you want to."

Glee again in Her voice, Mistress said, "And I can do this," at which She flicked the middle finger of Her right hand rapidly, which caused my erect cock to flap up and down. i was so surprised by this that i both nearly lost my balance and out of reflex more than conscious thought moved my hands to my flailing cock.

This brought a sharp rebuke from Mistress. "No, tup, no! you know better than that. Get your hands down immediately." As She barked these orders at me and as I blurted out my apologies, She stopped my dick from flopping and deflated me back to full limpness.

Watching this, Dr. Evans said, with the tone of experience, "Those nick instincts are hard to break."

"Yes, they are," Mistress replied to the Vet before reaching down, squeezing my collapsed cock, and saying to me: "you, boy, will get used to that dick dance, for that's how I'll summon you around the house. And if you dare to touch yourself again, for any reason, without My permission, it will be a long, long time before you feel the pleasure of any sort of erection. Are W/we clear on that, tup?"

"Yes, Mistress," my voice broke as I replied and as Mistress released Her tight grip on my cock.

After a moment of awkward silence, Dr. Evans cleared Her throat and asked, "Would you like to see his tongue?"

"Yes." Then to me, "tup, open your mouth and stick out your tongue."

When i had done so, Dr. Evans instructed me, "Open wider, boy, tilt your head back, and lift your tongue up." Then She used a small flashlight to illuminate my mouth, explaining to Mistress: "That ride at the base of the tongue is called the frenulum. I cut and surgically re-sculptured that to extend his length, giving you about another inch."

"Very nice," Mistress nodded in approval, "I'll certainly put that to good use." Then to me, She added: "Close."

"tup's speech is about back to normal," Dr. Evans added, "but we'll give you some speech drills and tongue exercises to further strengthen his tongue and give him better control over the additional length."

With that, Mistress thanked Dr. Evans, checked me out at the front desk, and took me back home.

In the weeks that followed, Mistress and i both settled back into O/our routines. She was working on the items for Her upcoming gallery show, spending long hours most days in the studio. i resumed my domestic duties, cleaning the house, doing the laundry, cooking Her meals, tending to the lawn. i became familiar with, if never quite accustomed to, the "dick dance" She used to summon me from whatever i was doing to attend to Her. It was sporadic, but She used me sexually, too. my new tongue got a lot of work, sometimes earning me the privilege of spending the night in Her bed or at least in Her bedroom. On days when things hadn't gone well in the studio, there was a better than even chance She'd peg me hard before sending me down to the basement to sleep in my cage. Keeping track of the passage of time was difficult, but i think it was several weeks before She permitted me an erection; though She never said so, i suspect this was in punishment for touching myself without permission in front of Dr. Evans.

As the days took on their pace and routine, i retain a handful of sharp memories from the rest of that first month of my enslavement.

First, some days after Mistress had brought me back from the Vet, W/we were out at a local café. As Mistress did some reading and sipped Her drink, She permitted me a small bowl of citrus flavored water, a rare and tasty treat. Not having any idea how long W/we'd stay, i didn't rush through my drink, but lapped at it slowly, making it last. As i did so, i took the opportunity to gaze discreetly around the café, observing this slice of life in Gynesis. While the clientele tended younger, there were Women of all ages sitting at the tables and on the stools around the counter. Some were chatting with other Ladies, some were with Their slaves, some were reading or working alone. Once again i was taken by the age dynamics. A number of the more mature Ladies had younger slaves kneeling at Their feet or fetching Their drinks. Conversely, some of the youngest Women had the most mature slaves in the café, slaves old enough biologically to be Their fathers. One such couple was at the other end of the café, the slave facing U/us as his young Mistress was making him kneel up and beg for a scrap of pastry. As he did so, his huge scrotum was fully displayed, his nuts hanging as large and heavy as billiard balls. Mistress must have noticed me staring, for She leaned down to ask, "What has you so interested, tup?"

Flustered at being caught gawking, i stammered out, "i'm sorry, Mistress ... but that man ... i'm sorry, that boy, has such, such balls."

Above me, Mistress laughed aloud. "man,'" Her distaste for the word was obvious in Her tone. "Let's permanently purge that word from you vocabulary. That boy," She stressed the word, "is less of a man than you are, tup. he's certainly a gelding and those balls are fake, designed to be constant reminders of what he no longer has."

Mistress took a sip of Her coffee, stroked my hair, and continued. "That was the style sometime back, when that boy was younger." She tugged on a strand of my hair. "I think the fashion may be making a come back. I don't really get it, but some younger Women really like that retro look."

With that, Mistress patted my head, told me it was time to go and to finish my drink. And She reassured me, "Don't worry, pet. As i said, that's not to My tastes."

Second, i believe it was during the second week after my visit to the Vet that Mistress announced She had enrolled me in a class at the local community center. It was to be a cooking class, to improve my skills in the kitchen and make me more adept at preparing local dishes. The next morning, after breakfast and as She headed to Her studio, Mistress told me that i'd be picked up in a hour or so and taken to the class. i was to work on my chores until then. About an hour later, the front door bell rang. When i opened it, a mature Lady with a tablet looked me up and down and asked simply, "tup?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Come with Me," She said and led me to large van with the city logo painted on it, telling me to take a seat near two other boys who had already been picked up. When She had attached a ring on my collar to the back of the seat to hold me in place and remind me of my place, She told me that we were free to chat until we got to the community center. As She then drove us to pick up other boys - there would be six of us in total - the three of us introduced ourselves and talked quietly. uta, an older boy, perhaps 40, was taking a needlepoint class ("Mistress wants my hands kept busy when i've no chores to do"). he had taken a series of the cooking classes that i would eventually take, too, including breads and pastries, grilling, and sauce making. bron was younger (maybe 20), quieter, like me quite new to this life.

"Mistress has me in a pole dancing class," bron said, his cheeks flushing. "She wants to enter me in competitions."

That left us in silence for a few minutes as we each imagined the humiliation of that. bron broke the silence by asking me where i was from originally. i was about to reply with the name of my hometown, when the Driver - who had obviously been listening to our conversation - thrust Her long arm to the back, snapping Her fingers. "Uh uh, boys, no talk of the past. you keep your little heads focused on what you need to do today; on what you are and whose you are. Hear me?"

"Yes, Ma'am," we all answered meekly, more or less in chorus, and remained mainly silent for the rest of the ride.

When W/we were parked at the community center, the Drive automatically released our collars and ordered us out of the back. "Most of you know where you're going, so run along to class," She said. "tup, you're new, so follow me."

And that began a series of courses i'd take over the following months and years designed to make me a more useful slave. In addition to the series of cooking classes, Mistress also enrolled me in courses on gardening, weaving, massage, pedicures and manicures, accounting to help with Her bookkeeping, and - yes - eventually a pole dancing class. i never learned how bron did in his competitions and my Mistress never entered me in any, but She did say that the training made me more supple in my movements and less self conscious about my body.

The third thing i remember from that first month is that Mistress began allowing me outside of the house alone more. Now that i was properly marked and wormed and groomed to Her liking, She sent me on errands around the neighborhood and to fetch things from local stores. i had felt a bit shut up inside the house and initially thought i'd enjoy being out more, exercising even a bit of freedom. But i didn't. After weeks of being under direct control, almost always on a leash when out of the house, it felt weird to be walking on my own, not heeling. As i had to learn the intricacies of moving about in this Female-dominated society, i found that i missed Mistress's guiding hand. The first time young Women passing me on the street commented on my "cute ass," my cheeks flushed far more deeply than they had ever done on Mistress's leash.

The first time a store clerk barked at me to bow my head so She could scan my the code on my neck before making a purchase, i nearly cried. And the first a Woman pinched my butt as She passed behind me in grocery aisle, i froze, too embarrassed to move for some moments. Perhaps Mistress understood this. Perhaps She realized how grateful i always was to come home. Perhaps She knew how i'd come to value the comparative safety i felt inside Her home, the security and comfort i felt when on Her leash. i came to believe that Mistress, and the Women of Gynesis generally, comprehended all of these things, through countless generations coming to fathom that one of the best ways to get slaves like me to appreciate their Owners was to give them just a bit of freedom. It was a powerful insight.