Chapter 5: Slave Processing Center, Again

(Hunter narrates his second visit to the Processing Center)

There was little doubt Clarence wanted revenge for me scheming with Dad to enslave him. And I couldn’t even talk to him to try to explain things, since he had one of those prods as well, plus I had been gagged most of the time.

And now I was back in the trunk, being driven by him to the Slave Processing Center so he could convert me into a “full-use” slave. I knew he’d have no trouble exacting his revenge today.

And this time I was not gagged as there was no one who was going to take any notice of any pleas from me. At every stop Clarence selected an “upgrade” from what dad had chosen.

My minimal, lightweight collar was replaced by a heavier electric model that could deliver shocks activated by my voice (so-called “silent mode”), or by a remote control. Clarence got three remotes, so the twins could have one each as well.

He also got the “scrotal control” upgrade, which was basically another shock collar, but this one went round my balls. After it was locked on, Clarence asked, “How can we be sure it’s working?”

The installation guy wordlessly took Clarence’s remote and pressed a button. It was like getting kicked in the nuts by an entire soccer team. I was down on the floor writhing. “Looks like it’s working...” the dude deadpanned his response to Clarence, who agreed, smirking.

We got to an enema booth. Dad had spared me this indignity last time, but Clarence plainly had plans for my ass. I was given the “triple clean special.” It sucked but it more embarrassing, foreign, gross, and uncomfortable than painful.

Clarence said, “Pay attention, you’ll be doing this at home from now on.”

The slave cop nearby prodded me with his baton, “Thank your master for the advice, slave!”

I managed to choke out a fake thank-you to my douche-bag brother “for the advice” as I knew he was itching to shock me.

He whispered menacingly in my ear, “I’ve got a lot more advice for you.”

He decided he needed to check the enemas had done their job and roughly fingered my ass.

“Watch the fingernail!” the guard advised. Clarence seemed satisfied that my ass was clean but wiped it on my naked back anyway.

At the slave-id booth, dad had gotten the least painful option: a small, temporary tattoo, and even paid for the anesthetic upgrade. Clarence immediately went to the bottom of the list. “Branding?” he asked, “can we brand a five-year slave?”

“As long as the owner consents.”

“Oh that’s me,” Clarence laughed. “Great, let’s do it!”

I freaked out: I was pretty scared of the branding iron.

“Oh wait, what’s this ‘branding plus’ option?”

“It has the same result, but we make it a more memorable experience for the slave, using sensory deprivation and giving him caffeine and extra oxygen for maximum alertness during the procedure. It’s often a punishment or a way of conditioning new slaves.”

“Great idea – let’s go for it!” my new master enthused.

I was terrified as they strapped a hood over my head. The air inside tasted strange and I was feeling very alert. I was strapped down very firmly as the branding iron was adjusted to be my slave id number. There was a wait while it heated up. I was shaking in a panic: I had no idea how much time had past or how much longer I’d have to wait.

When the iron was applied to the top of my left buttock, I tensed up completely, every muscle straining against my bondage. It didn’t matter; they were experts and nothing I did would mess up the brand.

I was given a few minutes to “savor the experience” as the clerk said before the iron was applied to my left foot and right shoulder.

We had to wait about 30 minutes for the brand to “finish setting”, and then they were ready to take me to the next booth.

The next booth was “training.” They offered a wide variety of options, but the only section that interested Clarence was “Sex Training”. So he signed me up for one hour of Basic Sex Training. “I’ll be testing you later!” he joked, only he wasn’t really joking.

The basic sex training had two parts: oral and anal. In both cases, the slave was only trained in his appropriate role.