by Danny Tyran
I began to cry, in silence at first, then louder and louder. I felt so alone in my suffering, abandoned by all. It seemed to me that nobody in the world cared about how I felt, not even my own master.
After finishing with the lower part of my body, Ray helped me settle lengthwise on the horse, so I could rest my head on its cushion. As soon as I realized what he wanted to do, I helped as much as possible, pulling myself in the right direction. He ordered me to face him. I did. That’s when I saw his gentle smile. He reached out and wiped away my tears. “Do you hate me, Max, for being so cruel with you, inflicting all this pain on you at this late stage of your test?”
I thought it through. I didn’t want to lie to him, nor lie to myself. “I do not know anymore how I feel, Sir, more just a sense of being thrown into the middle of hell and forgotten.”
“You’re lucky, Max. You can stop the test, leave this place if you want and take another path in life. Most of those who suffer in this world don’t have this possibility. You still have your parents and they love you. You’re not really abandoned ‘in the middle of hell’, as you say. I know what it’s like to be forgotten by all, a prisoner of horrible suffering, and it’s not what you imagine. Will you quit now? Will you leave this hell?”
He was absolutely right. I was here because I wanted to be. If I had to blame someone, it was myself. This hell, I was its creator. And if I wanted to stop everything, I just had to answer “yes” to his last questions.
“I will stay, Sir. Thank you for helping me to be aware of the reality, of my freedom and my luck. I know I am not alone in this ordeal, my master is undergoing it with me and I thank him for that. Please resume what you were doing, Sir.”
He responded with a wry smile, “If you insist, Max”.
This time, he used the backscratcher. Without even bothering to lubricate me, the burning lotion which he had used to coat my anus should suffice, he introduced the little hand inside my gut. The handle was long enough to allow it to sink as deeply as it seemed necessary to him.
He then started to twisted his tool around and around inside me, while pulling it back and forth. He turned the silver hand so it grabbed my bowels and drew the implement toward the anus, dragging with it part of the intestinal wall that had been caught by the scraper. He could tear me that way, but he pulled slowly, cautiously, taking time to evaluate my reactions. I gritted my teeth. I was in pain. Even if he didn’t tear anything, I felt as if something was torn. Because of the fire that was already brewing my insides, I couldn’t be sure they hadn’t been pierced. What if he had ripped up my gut and nobody noticed? That idea scared me more than was reasonable.
Ray was so clever with his instrument and handled it with such care that he could inflict the greatest possible pain without causing injury. When he saw that I seemed to feel bad, he continued to pull a little, just a little, enough to allow the pain to reach its peak. Then he kept his tool for a short while in that horrible position. At times, the pain made me scream. I clung to the edge of the horse in the hope of being able to stay still. I could have hurt myself trying to escape.
I wondered if among all the torturers he had had in his life, one of them used a backscratcher this way on him. A child tortured like that with no one to help him... Maybe this was why he was so clever with the instrument. I understood now why everybody considered that there had been no need for him to be tested like this.
Without changing my position or removing the tiny hand, he started beating me again, torturing my chest. This time, his movements weren’t regular and his strokes were of unequal strength. He barely looked at where the whip was falling. He seemed furious, caught up in a whipping frenzy that urged him to beat me blindly, again and again. I wondered if this man, usually so self-possessed, had suddenly lost his mind and couldn’t control himself anymore. I became even more scared. And the more I was afraid, the more I tensed. And the more I tensed, the more I hurt. I was punishing myself by failing to overcome my fear.
When my chest and belly were nothing more than a maze of wounds, he grabbed the ivory handle again and began to twist my insides. He wanted to hear me cry and scream. By this time, I was bathed in sweat. I wept with the intensity of despair. I screamed. Against all my efforts not to do so, I even started to beg him to stop, but he didn’t listen to my plea. “There’s only one way to stop me. You know how, you just have to tell me that you want to end this test. But if I stop, you fail, and you can go back to your former life as a student. If that is what you want, say it now. What do you decide?”
As he spoke, he hadn’t stopped twisting my guts for one second. I started sobbing and screaming spasmodically, even more when it was particularly painful. “Answer me!” he hollered.
“I... keep... going..., S...ir.”
I finished my sentence in a hissing sound of pain. But he only had a few seconds left. He used them to withdraw the silver hand with slow and gentle care. Then he helped me get off the horse. My legs couldn’t carry me. I collapsed and found myself sitting on the floor, still shaken by sobs which I couldn’t stifle, and wiping my tears. I was in dire need of comfort. I would have liked to curl up in the arms of my master and not move, ever. But with difficulty, I rolled over onto my knees. Looking up, I thanked Ray, as I thanked everyone else.
Ray crouched and grabbed my hair. “What are you thanking me for, slave: screwing your guts or for having almost flayed the skin off your belly?”
I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to get my wits back. “Slave”? Had he just said “slave”?! With that simple word, he gave me his blessing, recognizing me for what I was. It was said that he didn’t easily admit the value of an applicant, but I had won him over to my side.
Pausing every three words to catch my breath, I answered, “Thank you for agreeing to participate in my test, for showing me that I could continue, even now, even if you treated me very badly. And I thank you for what you are: efficient, self-confident, superbly domineering, beautiful.”
He burst out laughing.
“Now he is trying to seduce me! Not just that, he dares to do it in his master’s presence.”
“My master has nothing to fear. He knows I love him more than anybody and than anything.”
“He’s lucky. And you also are fortunate to have a trainer of his caliber. You realize that, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir, I know very well.” Then I kissed his feet.
When I finally managed to stand upright, he gave me his instruments to store away, said goodbye to my master and left.
The next participant was a young woman named Lisa. She had brown hair, cut short, as if she had grown tired of having long hair and had hacked it off by herself with furious snips of her scissors. That gave her a wild look that belied the rest of her appearance. She wore a pale pink mini dress with blue flower motifs the exact same color as her eyes. She also wore little girl shoes: flat ones with T straps. She was petite, but everything about her was perfect, beautifully proportioned. Her breasts were very round and firm, just like her ass. I’d have liked to see her without clothes on.
Like all her predecessors, she said hello to my teacher and chatted with him for a moment, then she went rummaging in the cupboard. She came back with a harness, spurs and a horse bit. The straps of her whip were made of partially braided horsehair.
She harnessed me and inserted the bit into my mouth. Next, she ordered me to get on all fours and slowly planted the handle of her whip in my already too sensitive anus. Then she attached spurs to her shoes and sat on my worn and skinned back. At that moment, I realized she was naked under her dress. Her hot, wet pussy must have recently been shaved. The only girls I had known intimately enough didn’t depilate that area. My cock reacted with delight at this finding.
She seized the bit straps and used them as a bridle to guide me, her horse. Each pull on the reins thrust the bit into the corners of my lips. If she kept using the reins that way, the bit would split my lips. My fingers were still very sore. Crawling wasn’t easy,
especially since I now had almost exhausted my energy reserves. But when she pressed her spurs into my thighs, I realized that I still wasn’t done.
While forcing me to go back and forth around the basement, she asked me questions that I could answer with a nod or shake of the head. It was important for me to make each nod and head shake look like a horse’s. At this stage of my test, it might seem futile to attach importance to the grace of my movements, but such efforts helped me avoid collapsing. I needed to continue to believe in the value and scope of my actions. I needed to have faith in myself and what I was doing, in my own dignity and my quest for excellence and greatness.
During the final few minutes of my journey, I had to move onto my knuckles because the tips of my fingers hurt too much. My knees ached. My thighs had started bleeding where they had been spurred. But Lisa seemed to have enjoyed her game, thus I was happy. After my thanks for her session, she told me that I was a magnificent stallion. I whinnied my satisfaction, which made her laugh. Then I kissed her feet. She patted my mane before saying goodbye to my master and prancing away like a kid. I smiled, wishing I had a mistress like Lisa.
The last participant was Dr. Leon Rhainds, who had nursed me when I was sick some time ago and who had remained on alert in case we needed him as we did after Louis finished.
He opened by asking, “How are you two doing?”
“I’m definitely better than Max,” my master replied, smiling.
“I don’t know which of us had the hardest experience today, doctor,” I added in turn.
Doctor Rhainds examined me from head to toe, while my master got up to stretch a bit. He asked the doctor about my state, “What condition is he in?”
“It’s fortunate that there weren’t more than twenty people involved. But as far as I’m concerned, even three hours is at least one hour too long. Because of all the downtime between each participant, the event often lasts an hour longer than it should. Ten well-selected individuals would be enough.”
“I know what you think, Doctor. You say the same thing each time.”
Doctor Rhainds responded in an angry tone, “And I will continue to repeat it as long as you don’t listen to me.”
My master took him by the hand and kissed the palm, as if to make amends.
“I could report you for that,” said the doctor, smiling. “This could be considered an attempted seduction to convince me to soften Max’ test.”
“You know that’s not the case and I know you won’t do anything of the sort.”
“You’re too sure of yourself, James Teka.”
“Don’t believe it, Doctor. I am much less self-confident than I was.”
The doctor took a good look at my master, probably recognizing the scars left by Gabrielle’s death and he added, “Yes, I can see that what you experienced left its mark.”
The three of us went into the laundry room. There, the doctor filled the huge sink with water and added a little bleach. Then he ordered me to get in. Bleach, even in such small quantities, awoke pain in my countless wounds. He washed me all over, including my hair and face. Then he rinsed his wash cloth with clean water and applied it to my hair and face. When he finished, he gave me a pill to swallow.
As soon as he felt I had endured that for long enough, he ordered me out of the bath. Grabbing a large towel I had placed there the day before, at the request of my master, the doctor helped me wipe myself. Then he said, “Go and spread out face down on the examination table.”
When I was in position, he gave my master a tube of cream similar to one he picked up, and each in turn began to spread it on my wounds, that were now burning more than ever. They even put a little on the soles of my feet, where one of the participants had inserted twenty acupuncturist’s needles. This cream, in addition to being antibiotic, acted as an analgesic, because, as time went by, my pain seemed less intense.
We then went into the lockup. The doctor stood behind me, surrounding me with his arms, and pressed my bladder. I hadn’t peed since earlier in the day and I badly need to go. This bladder massage was a new torment, but one which had a stimulating effect on my dick. The doctor, seeing my reaction, stopped what he was doing. After putting one end of a long tube into my mouth, he inserted in a swift and fluid motion the other end into my urethra. When it was inside, he ordered me to lie on my back on the bunk and drink. When I had finished swallowing my own urine, he ordered me to stand up and inserted into my urethra a tiny probe coated with a new disinfectant and healing liquid, which rekindled the flame that was beginning to fade.
My next task was to go to the toilet bowl of the lockup, where an enema bag that my master handed to the doctor was filled with water. I received my three usual enemas. But in the last one, he added medicinal plants. After all I have been through, I wasn’t sure if these medical treatments were a relief or an additional suffering.
This was probably why the doctor was attending the event as the last contributor. His care was necessary, but it provided another occasion for new tortures. When he finished, I thanked him and kissed his feet.
“Was that your idea, James, to suggest that he thanks all participants this way?”
“No, Doctor, it was his.”
“That’s good, kid. Although the discussion period hasn’t started yet, everyone has been talking about your performance. I can already tell you that you have done a great job.”
“Thank you.”
I was overjoyed! I didn’t want to be too hasty with my rejoicing but I felt relieved to have succeeded this important part of my ordeal. It seemed to me that I was feeling already better.
The doctor went to join the other guests. When he left, my master took me to the chest-coffin in which he had locked me shortly before our move. Because of its size, we had to leave it at our old home and it was delivered later with some gym equipment that we had kept until the last day. My master opened the trunk. I saw that it was full of caterpillars and centipedes.
“Lie down. The discussion on your test will last about an hour. Then we’ll carry you in the coffin to the living room, where you will be given your results and you will offer me a part of yourself. Take this time to get some sleep.”
At this point of my ordeal, these bugs should be the least of my worries, but I still grimaced when I stretched out in the coffin as instructed and felt the bugs move around under my back. When my master shut the lid, I covered my face with my hands to prevent the bugs from entering my mouth and nostrils. I immediately began to perform some relaxation exercises. If I could sleep a little maybe what I would experience later would be easier. But nothing could be less certain.
Chapter 25
In spite of the bugs’ constant tickles, I was so exhausted I fell asleep almost at once, not waking up until the chest started moving. Either discussion time was over or the guests hadn’t debated the verdict as long as expected.
I felt more exhausted than ever. Would I be able to get out of the box on my own, without the support of anyone? As I wasn’t at all sure, I decided to test my strength. I stretched my whole body and arched my back as if I was about to open the lid with my belly while extending my arms and legs as far as they would go. The lid didn’t move, but at least I knew I could use my muscles.
The trunk bounced slightly as it was laid on the ground. Then the lid was opened. Johnny and Jerry reached in to assist me if need be. The guests rose to their feet, turned around and applauded me, shouting and whistling. Johnny, using our vacuum, cleared me of all millipedes and caterpillars still dangling everywhere on my body.
That’s when I noticed Jean sitting in the back of the room. He greeted me with a slight nod, and I smiled back at him. Even though I didn’t know why he had been invited and despite everything he had inflicted on me in the past, I was happy to have him there.
Jerry and Johnny then helped me out of the box and accompanied me to the entrance hallway where my master was waiting. Don, his former slave, and the doctor were also there. People continued to applaud us
for a while, and then they resumed their seats.
Johnny took his position behind the lectern and proceeded to announce the scores: four grades of 98%, ten 97%, four 96%, one 90% and one of 85%. That gave me an average of 96%. Johnny waited until the applause died down before continuing. “I’m sure that every one of you knows who attributed the 90% score and that of 85. I can’t ask these people to reassess their results, but at least nothing stops me from commenting.”
“What’s wrong, Johnny? Don’t we have the right to assess a performance as we see fit?” Louis called out.
“Quite the opposite! We are required to evaluate each performance regardless of our prejudices or our grudges. We must do so with honesty.”
Several people agreed.
“By what right do you claim that we have not been honest?”
I heard some comments and scornful laughter.
“Ah, Helena! You’re in no position to start a discussion about law and justice, now, are you?” Johnny asked.
“Please!” Dr. Rhainds interjected. “This isn’t the right time.”
“You’re right, Doctor. But just wait and see!”
“What do you mean? Threats, Johnny?” Helena was booed.
“No. A promise of justice.”
“I have heard enough. You no longer need us, so we’re leaving. Come on, Louis.”
“No. I prefer to stay.”
“Louis!”
“You can go if you want, Helena. I’m staying.”
Helena left angrier than before. Louis asked to revise his notes. He gave me 99%. Johnny recalculated the average and announced the final result. I had a score of 96.5%. The highest score ever achieved was 97% and that belonged to Johnny which he achieved when he was only twenty-one years old. He would probably round up my final scoring to 97 because of the gift I was about to make. I smiled at Johnny. People cheered me again.
