The FSRA

Rehabilitation

  I was in pain.

  It had grown slowly, but was undeniable. I hadn't moved in years, in the dark, unable to see or hear, unable to feel anything. At least it seemed like years. I had no sense of time, and my reality was just the hallucinations in my mind.

  But one thing was very clear. My testicles hurt. Badly. And I was no longer having orgasms. Not that I didn't ejaculate, I did that constantly, or so it seemed. But there was no longer any pleasurable sensation associated with the production of semen. Instead, my testicles ached horribly, swathing my entire groin and hip area with pain.

  When the bolts were removed from the form fitting helmet, I didn't understand what was happening. My mind had gone so completely, it was just another hallucination. Even the searingly bright light didn't affect me at first, it was just another horrible dream. Hands unstrapped me, and slowly lifted me, and moved me to another bed, a gurney because I was rolled out of the room.

  I started laughing hysterically, drooling on a pillow under my head, placing my hands on my head and body... and then realized that my arms and legs were unstrapped and free as well. I was no longer a Stubby. The sensation of touching myself with my hands, and stretching my legs out, were all so unexpected, my hysterical laughter continued.

  A medical exam, performed by a male doctor, was followed by a sponge bath. My eyes were beginning to work again, and I could focus and see the people coming and going from the room. The doctor leaned over me and asked if I could understand him. I nodded my head.

  "You have been released from the sperm production farm. The sperm production program was terminated and all Stubbies released. You are being transfered to a work farm, where you will be treated much, much better than here. I am the doctor from that work facility, and I guarantee you that you will receive meaningful work to do, companionship, intellectual and physical stimulation and be much, much happier.

  "Your arms and legs, in fact your entire body, has muscular atrophy from lack of use. We are getting you ready for transport, and by tonight you will be located in your new home. Starting tomorrow we will begin working on getting your body back in shape. We will also be working on your mind. Do you understand that you were driven insane by sensory deprivation in the last 6 months?"

  Six months... had it been that long? It hadn't seemed that long, but at the same time it felt like a lifetime. I nodded my head.

  "Good. You need retraining to get you back in shape both in mind and body. We will provide that in a humane, responsible way. A strict regimen of exercise and disciplined structure will help you get back to normal in no time."

  I closed my eyes and lost consciousness.

  When I regained consciousness, it was very dark and I thought at first that I had been hallucinating again, and that I was still encapsulated as a sperm producing machine. I quickly realized I wasn't as the bed of straw on which I was laying stuck me uncomfortably and my hands went instinctively to scratch. This small motion, the act of scratching, made me burst in to tears, it had been so long since I had been able to move any part of my body, let alone my arms and legs.

  Exploring my environment, I found that my arms and legs were extremely weak, unable to hold my weight. I dragged myself around a little, and discovered that a thin rounded metal ring around my neck was chained to a wall. The room I was in resembled a horse's stall more than anything else, and it was clear that I had already been transported to the work farm the doctor had talked about. Food and water was available in dishes off to the side, and I actually fed myself with my hands, a very unique experience.

   After feeding myself, I unclamped the urethral bypass and let out the contents of my bladder, and then shit on the floor. This was a mistake, as my chain was short and I had shit right were I had been sleeping. I ended up getting my own shit all over my legs and side as I settled down again for some sleep. It didn't really bother me that much. My current situation was better than anything I had experienced in months, and I was slowly becoming convinced it was not another hallucination.

  I next woke in the morning. The sun was up and cracks in the stall's wood walls let a lot of light through, as well as openings where the walls met the roof. I was in a barn of some sort, and I could hear others stirring in stalls near me. There was even a little talking. I had not talked in so long, I wasn't sure whether I could or not. Regardless, this place felt like heaven to me.

  A door opened and a tall woman, wearing jeans and a work shirt, with short brown hair and a bored, rather plain face, entered. She looked at me and the stall, and immediately let loose a long string of expletives, apparently over the mess I had made the night before. She strode over to me, slapped my face hard three or four times until I was knocked down. Then she produced a key, unlocked my chain and pulled me (rather than led me) out in to a wide central barn corridor where she rechained me. She busied herself cleaning my stall.

  I lay observing my environment. I was on a country farm. There were rows of stalls, their doors all locked shut with beams across the outside. Each stall had a number on it. The number on mine was #6. There were larger rooms at either end full of strange equipment, harnesses, ropes, and finally doors that were open to a tree studded meadow on one side, and a dirt yard with other buildings on the other. The farm looked almost peaceful, and I felt a calming effect as I began moving and exercising my arms and legs for the first time in... I didn't know how long.

  My penis and testicles were still swollen, erect, and distended. I knew I had not been on the drugs for sperm collection for a while, and wondered how long it would be before the effects wore off. My testicles hurt, and I felt the urgings for release hitting me again. It had probably been a couple of days since I had ejaculated, and after having ejaculated once every half hour for the last... maybe 6 months, I felt a real need. My hands went down and before I knew it, I was stroking myself, masturbating. I quickly orgasmed, leaving copious amounts of sticky fluid in a pool on the dirt floor.

  I was just beginning to stroke myself to a second orgasm when the handler came out and saw me. She made a noise of disgust and took a whip that was hanging from her side, spinning it around and then letting it lash out, encircling my body. I screamed. The huge bull whip felt like it was cutting me in half. It lashed out again, curling around my shoulders, the tip snapping against my cheek. It lashed out a third time, and a fourth, cutting stripes in my skin which oozed blood.

  Sobbing in a heap on the ground, I waited.... and after a bit the handler came over and yanked me to my feet. I was unable to stand, I was so weak. As I began to sink down, the chain around my collar tightened, pulling me back up. Choking, I looked up and saw the chain was now fastened to a pulley high above me. The handler pulled and the ring collar yanked me higher, cutting in to the flesh of my neck and making me choke. My hands automatically went to my neck, but all they could do is scratch at the ring, and after a while I simply hung there, most of my weight on the collar, some supported by my weak legs.

  The handler brought over a leather harness, and with quick, expert movements, placed it on my body. The harness ran around my hips, between my legs and to either side of my buttocks. Further leather straps ran up and across my back, chest and shoulders. Numerous D rings, eyelets and other attachments were placed strategically, ready for use.

  As the choking hold of the collar forced the blood pressure to build up in my head, the handler inserted something inside my anus, which suddenly pierced through the flesh, inserting a metal ring. At one time I would have screamed from the pain, but compared to what I had been through the discomfort only caused a loud groan. The anus ring attached to a locked ring around my scrotum, and was secured tightly in place. There was no way to get the device off without tearing open the side of my anus and ripping my testicles off in the process.

  Just as the blackness of unconsciousness was beginning to overtake me, the chain was released and I collapsed to the floor. Huddled there, I rested from this latest ordeal.

  Other handlers had come, and were removing other workers from their stalls. They were all naked as I was, all wearing the same permanent ring collar, and all with the same leather strapped harness. The main difference was that all these workers were strong. Their muscles were hard, their hands, feet and other places on their bodies were callused, and their faces had a hard, resigned look.

  I was surprised to see that some of the workers leaving their stalls were women. All of them were long, lean, strong specimens, with short cropped hair but clearly visible breasts and the fine lines of well honed female bodies. They wore similar harnesses, and appeared to be ready to work for the day as the handlers led them out of the barn.

  One woman in particular caught my attention. Her skin was covered with a light sheen of sweat, as the day was beginning to get hot. Her hair was a natural auburn, and while her body was very mature and well formed, her face appeared softer, and younger than the others. I felt my constant erection throbbing, and began to move slowly as she passed me.

  There was a sudden searing pain, cutting from inside my bowels to my testicles. It only lasted a second but it was enough for me to fall, curl up on the floor and scream. The slight smell of smoke met my nostrils. My handler knelt next to me, lifted my head to look at her by the hair, and said, "That was just a little something to get your attention. She is not for you. You have other work for now."

  I nodded, and she pressed a small button on a remote that looked like a car key remote, and my lower body shot through with searing pain once again. I screamed a long scream that slowly died as the air was expelled from my lungs, and I gasped air back in.

   "Remember that," my handler said. "Now. Let's get to it. Crawl... do not walk... crawl to that end of the barn."

  As hard as it was, I crawled. Each time I collapsed I received a cutting lash with her bullwhip. She pushed me the entire morning, back and forth, crawling, and then rolling, squatting, all sorts of various exercises to rebuild my muscles. By the end of the day my body was a mass of stripes from the whip, blood streaming down so that I looked like someone had dumped a can of paint over me. She had used the anal shock ring twice more during the day, each time evoking a scream and putting me out of action for 10 minutes while I recovered.

  In the evening, I was returned to my stall. Food and water were given to me, which I eagerly consumed. My arms and legs felt like lead weights and were wracked with cramping. I fell asleep as soon as the sun went down.

  I had begun my rehabilitation.