Scenes of the Great Female Takeover pt. 2

The boy was waking up. "Please, don't let them take me. I will do anything!"

Accoding to his records, he had been committed here by her stepmothers. Officially to treat his "affliction of the attitude", but the truth might have been a touch . . . shadier. Luckily no one cared nor asked about such things at this day and age.

Rhonda gave his face a good slap. "Wake up, boy!"

His eyes opened and he looked around blearily.

"That's right. Back to reality. Welcome to the Institution for Non-submissive Boys."

He still was not quite in this word. He tested his restraints, confused. He would be invigorated soon enough.

Rhonda looked at his records. "Let's see, who has the first turn? Uh, oh. Dr. Ortega." Dr. Ortega actually had a PhD in gender studies. But accoding to the woman herself, the studies in her prestigious school had "taught her all she needed to know about treating boys". She always worked with her own personal team of nurses. Perhaps some of them actually were nurses but what did that matter? All that mattered was they liked this sort of game. And a woman could be and do whatever she desired.

But in any case, being assigned to her team meant that the boy would be having anything but a soft landing.

And speak of the devil, there they were now!

"Ah," said Dr. Ortega as she and the five nurses walked into the room, "this must be our young patient. Lovely. In excellent physical condition. That's what I like to see. She ran a hand across the boy's perfect body. "A virgin?"

"Yes," confirmed Rhonda, even if the woman must have been well aware of this.

"Lovely. Me and the nurses will take of that for him . . . eventually."

"Please," the boy said groggily.

Dr Ortega pressed hand had over his mouth. "Hush, darling. Save your pleading for later." She studied him with a smile, then told her nurses, "Take him to procedure room 17." That was what the woman always used. The other staff here just called it the CBT room. Even with the door closed, you could always hear when a boy was getting worked over in there. It was where you heard the most piteous cries and the most delighted laugher. Incidentally it was also the most popular room. "Have him tightly secured. And," she took his limp cock in one hand, "prepared for some careful examinations." What she meant was, next time I see this lovely cock it better be hard as a rock and hyper senstive. The drugs they would administer would make sure of that. "Also a low dose of adrenaline to put some life into him."

The nurses admired the boy him as they started to wheel him away. "Please don't hurt me," he said feebly. Which they found very amusing (and not a little arousing). One grabbed his limp cock. As if to say, "what, you mean hurt this thing? Why, my boy, that's exactly what we are going to be doing! But there's nothing you can do about that, now is there?"

Rhonda watched as the gleeful women took the little hottie into his doom. What a way to lose a virginity: first hours of intense sexual torture and then a gang rape in the hands of relentlessly sadistic women older than his mother.

How glad she was to live in an age where finding that incredibly sexy was not seen as weird or wrong!