FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Episode 2

***WARNING*** This episode contains graphic depictions of violence, bondage, and torture. If any of these fetishes disturb you (and they probably should) I advise that you read no further. This is a work of fiction, and the behaviors depicted in this piece should stay that way.

Carl wanted to get there on time, but not too early. Professor Erikson had announced that he was looking for research assistants for the year earlier that day in class, but Carl didn't want it to look like he had been camping outside his waiting for his office hour to start. On the other hand, he wanted to get there first, before anyone else could grab the opportunity away from him. He was probably just overthinking it entirely, but this might be his only chance to get to work with the famous "Doctor Erikson" the famous psychologist. Professor Erikson was part of the reason Carl had decided to go to this college in the first place. The man's neurological research had already made great strides in pharmacology, especially in the field of pain management. Carl wanted to see the man in action, and this research assistantship might be his only chance, "but no pressure," he told himself as he walked down the corridor towards the man's office.

He knocked on the door, and a deep, muffled voice came from within, and said, "Come in." After wiping the sweat off his hands, Carl opened the door and entered the office.

"Professor Erikson? Hi, I'm here to ask about that..." Carl said, and then stopped. There was something odd going on. It definitely was Professor Erikson on the other side of the desk, but something was different. First of all, he was dressed from head to toe in a leather uniform of some variety which shone in the light, as though it had been meticulously polished earlier that day, but he hadn't been wearing it earlier in class. He even had on a leather cap Carl had only seen on motorcycle policemen. Beyond his clothing, his body looked different too. Before, Professor Erikson had been a portly man at least in his sixties, who liked to entertain his students in class, and was always kind when he passed them in the hallway. However, gone was the potbelly he had sported before, and while his hair and beard were still white, he exuded a sense of confidence which made him seem half his age. He also was much more muscular, the leather sleeves stretched over his bulging biceps, and Carl thought he could even make out the outline of the man's nipples through the shirt! But it was his eyes which were the most disturbing part. Carl had always remembered them as a bright green, but now they were steel gray, and gazed at him sternly and without emotion. However, a moment later, the feeling began to fade. Hadn't the professor always dressed like this? What was so odd about that? But Carl was still unsettled enough that he could only stammer, "...about that, uh, research assistantship you...mentioned in class?"

"Shut the door behind you. I like my privacy," was the only thing Professor Erikson said, and a little scared, Carl immediately shut the door behind him, accidently slamming it in his flustered state.

"I said shut, it, not slam it."

"Sorry, it was an accident," Carl muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"I said it was an accident. I didn't mean to close it that hard," Carl added, but regretted it, as Professor Erikson's eyes hardened further and he stood up. His height had changed too. Carl remembered being about the same height when he had talked to the man last, but now Professor Erikson had several inches on him, which made Carl start to feel nervous, and a bit scared.

"I am your superior, Mr. Tramdor, and you will address me as such."

Carl wasn't entirely sure what to say to that, but he suddenly felt like he should run for his very life, but those eyes had rooted him to the floor. After a few seconds that felt like hours, his mouth just blurted out, "Yes sir, sorry sir."

"That's better, Mr. Tramdor," Professor Erikson replied, and sat back down in his chair, "Now, you wanted to apply for the RA position?"

"Yes sir. I've studied your work a lot sir, and I know that you're working with computers at the moment. I'm fluent in a variety of programming languages and I think I can be of help, sir," Carl said, the formalities rolling off his tongue now. How could he have forgotten them earlier?

Professor Erikson sat back, and gave Carl a once over. "Well, no offense Mr. Tramdor, but I'm actually looking for someone with a bit more experience to fill the position."

"What kind of experience would I need sir? I'm a fast learner, and really diligent. I promise that I would be completely committed to your project if you just gave me a chance sir."

The professor chuckled. "Do you even know what I am researching at the moment?"

"The last I heard, you were working on a neurological implant designed to help individuals manage chronic pain, sir."

Well, you do have spirit and know your stuff, at the very least. Strip for me, so I can see the rest of the package." he ordered, but Carl just looked at him blankly.

"Excuse me sir?"

"I said strip. Get naked. I don't like to ask twice, Mr. Tramdor."

"But...why? What's going on?" Carl said, mostly to himself. The wave of unease which first came to him when he walked into the office was back, but worse now. And he was afraid. Not just of Professor Erikson, though there was plenty in his eyes which scared him. Some primal drive within Carl told him that if he did not step out that door and run as far away from here as possible, he would lose his very soul.

Professor Erikson stood up again, and this time came around his desk towards Carl, who found that he couldn't move a muscle. There was something compelling him to stay. He wanted to be Professor Erikson's research assistant. Isn't that what he had always wanted? There was something else too. It felt good to obey this man. No that wasn't it. It was that the thought of disobeying him filled Carl with terror. Without another thought, Carl pulled his shirt off and slipped out of his shoes. Before the professor had crossed the short distance between them, Carl had gotten everything off, even his underwear, and stood there naked, at attention.

"Better, Mr. Tramdor. You are a fast learner," Professor Erikson said, and then proceeded to inspect Carl from top to bottom, a fact that made Carl feel a bit ashamed. He looked like he had had time to master several programming languages. While by no means obese, Carl did have a bit of a potbelly, and he had never set foot in a gym aside from PE in high school. He wondered if he should say something, but decided against it, and realized how quiet the office was, aside from the occasional grunt mumble which came from the professor. When he finished the inspection, Professor Erikson came around in front of Carl. "Well first of all," the professor said, "you're out of shape. My assistants have to be in top physical condition if they want to please me."

"Yes Sir. I'll start going to the gym, sir," fell out of Carl's mouth, but it didn't seem like something he would say. In fact, he hadn't even intended to say it. And what had that been about 'pleasing'? Something again seemed wrong with the professor's last comment, but Carl couldn't figure out what it was. He did want to please Professor Erikson, didn't he? Wasn't that why he wanted to become a research assistant in the first place?

"I expect all of my assistants to work out regularly. I'll ask one of the coaches there to help train you personally. He knows how I like them. Other than that, it looks like you'll do fine. Just one last test," he said, and then, without any warning, grabbed both of Carl's nipples and twisted them, hard.

The pain was so sudden and so strong that Carl almost screamed. He tried to pull away, but Professor Erikson wouldn't let go, and for one terrifying moment, Carl was sure that he was going to rip them off. Just when he thought he wouldn't be able to take it anymore, he let go, and Carl almost fell to his knees in relief.

"Yes, a very good response. I think you'll do quite nicely," the professor said, and then started picking up Carl's clothes where he had thrown them in a heap on the ground.

"What are you doing with my clothes sir?" Carl asked.

"You won't be needing them anymore, Mr. Tramdor."

"But then...what am I going to wear? I can't just walk around naked..." Carl said, but why had he even agreed to get naked in the first place?

Professor Erikson threw the heap into the trashcan, and then walked over to a closet which Carl hadn't noticed before, and started rummaging through it for something, without answering Carl's question. Carl figured he could probably move now, but didn't want to risk angering the professor. He didn't want to see those steel eyes turn harsh ever again. He would do anything to avoid that stare.

After some scrounging, the professor pulled out a leather harness, some leather shorts with zippers up the side, some socks and a pair of black leather boots. "Here's your new uniform. It is what you will wear everyday from this point on. You will be in charge of maintaining the leather and caring for it nightly," he said, and handed Carl the clothes.

"I...I can't wear this sir. It's..." Carl blushed, "kind of revealing...isn't it?"

"That's what all of my assistants wear. You're no exception. Now get dressed, we have work to do."

Carl just started at the clothes, trying to figure out what to do. Was this a joke or something? He couldn't be seen walking around campus in clothes like this. He would be a laughing stock. "Again, Mr. Tramdor, I don't like having to ask twice. Now. Get. Dressed."

Carl didn't need to look in order to know that the eyes were digging into him again. Without another thought, he pulled on the pants, the feel of the leather strange against his penis which he just now realized was rock hard. "How long had it been like that? Why hadn't the professor said anything?" he thought to himself, and blushed again, in shame. Then he fiddled with the harness, and when he couldn't figure out how to put it on himself, the professor came over and did it for him. With the man, his idol, that close...Carl realized why he had gotten hard. There was an aura of suppressed power which Carl could feel emanating from Professor Erikson. His muscles pushing against the leather which squeaked softly as he moved. There was a musky aroma, a mixture of sweat and leather that made Carl even more aroused. Then the harness was on, and the professor backed up again. Trembling a little, Carl sat down and pulled on the socks and boots, then stood up looked down at himself.

He thought he would look ridiculous, but that wasn't what he thought at all. He looked kind of hot. The shorts were tight enough to show off his package well, and he liked the feel of the leather against his skin, but he did wish he was more muscular, like the professor. The professor was one of the hottest, most handsome men he had ever seen. Not only had he read almost every article written by the man, but he also had spent the last few years fantasizing about him, and now, here was his chance to work with him. To serve him.

"One final touch," the professor said. He walked up to Carl, fastened a leather collar around his neck, and padlocked it shut. "Perfect. Now, we have work to do in lab, assistant. Follow me." "Right now, sir? But...people will see me..." Carl said, a small part of him still resistant to the new desires flooding through him.

"I did not ask for your opinion. Come," the professor said, and walked out the door. Unwilling to disobey, Carl quickly followed him, but instinctually stayed a few feet behind him. The professor was his superior; Carl knew that he had no right to walk beside him.

As they walked through the corridors of the building, every single person they passed stopped and stared at both of them in confusion. Carl was able to ignore the first few, by focusing on his professor ahead of him. But by the time they were walking past his fellow students he couldn't help but turn red in shame. It didn't help that his flabby stomach was on display for everyone to see, barely held in check by the leather straps of the harness. At least if he had bothered to take care of himself he wouldn't feel as self-conscious. He couldn't wait to get started at the gym, so he wouldn't have to feel so ashamed. Then he could look more like his professor too. He loved his professor; he was perfect in every way. If he was a good assistant, his professor would reward him, and if that meant he had to wear this uniform for the rest of his life, he would do that for him. However, there was still another voice screaming in the back of his mind, telling him that he had been caught in some sort of trap. This wasn't what a research assistant was required to do. He was behaving more like a slave, than a research assistant! But the words rang a bit hollow within him. This is what he'd fantasized about, wasn't it? Working with the great Professor Erikson? Serving him? Sucking his cock, getting fucked? That was what he wanted. His dick hadn't softened the whole time he had been walking, but now, he didn't really care that people saw him. He loved his professor, his master.

He followed Professor Erikson down to the basement, where they entered an unlabeled room together, which Carl assumed to be the lab. He was half right. Along one wall of the room, there was a bank of computers running a variety of programs. However, the other looked like it belonged in a dungeon, not at a college. There were a variety of things which Carl had never seen before, but which didn't look very comfortable. Along one of the walls, he could see a collection of paddles and whips hanging, as well as an assortment of other objects designed to cause pain. Carl began to wonder what kind of research Professor Erikson was doing down here, and what he had gotten himself into. That voice was back, and it was stronger. There was something strange going on, something very wrong, but for the life of him, Carl couldn't figure out what it was.

The professor led him over to a table, where a variety of objects were laid out, the strangest being a metal crescent which looked like a headband. While Carl was looking around, the professor had picked up some wrist and ankle bracelets and had begun to fasten them onto Carl's limbs. He then led him over to the middle of the room, where some chains were suspended from the ceiling. Without speaking, the professor attached the chains to the restraints on his hands, and did the same with Carl's feet on the ground. By the end of it, he was spread eagle in the middle of the room, his cock bulging obscenely against his tight leather pants, wondering what was going to happen next.

"Now, as you know, I specialize in research about pain," the professor said, "and I've needed an assistant to help me test my latest device. Before we do that though, I need a control sample." He picked up some metal clips from the table, and walked back to where Carl was, and clipped them onto his nipples. They pinched him much harder than the master had in the office, and it felt like they were on fire. Carl tried not to yell, and twisted in the chains, but that just made the clips whip back and forth, making his nipples hurt more. Carl didn't know how long he would be able to take it. He had never experienced much pain in his life, and to suddenly have it inflicted upon him without pity...what was he doing here? He hadn't signed up to be some guinea pig.

"How does it feel, assistant?"

"It hurts sir."

"How much? On a scale of one to ten?"

"A lot sir. Please take them off."

Give me a number."

"Five. Please, I don't like it."

The professor laughed, "Five? Already? But we haven't even gotten started yet." He walked back over to the table and returned with some metal balls, which he hooked into the metal clips, causing them to pull harder on his nipples, and bringing out a groan from Carl. His dick was no longer hard, and he didn't think he would be able to take much more of this.

"Please, no. It hurts..."

"Of course it hurts. It's supposed to hurt. How can we do research on pain without inflicting it?" The argument was ludicrous, not to mention unethical, but part of it made sense. Hadn't he read about this in all of the studies he read? Isn't this why Professor Erikson was so famous? Something still didn't seem right, but he couldn't figure out what. He decided to just try and fight through the pain, as long as he could.

The professor took a moment to undo Carl's leather shorts at the sides, and then took them off entirely, before returning to the table. By now, Carl's nipples had started to go numb, which was a bit of a relief. While he waited for the professor to come back, Carl just tried to stay still, so that the weights wouldn't shift and send a new spike of pain through him. When the professor came back, he had a metal cylinder about an inch long and more metal weights with him. "I'll be nice and start you out small," he said, and then unhinged the cylinder and latched it around Carl's balls, pulling them away from his body. That wasn't the worst of it though, because the professor then began to attach several weights to the cylinder, causing the pain to skyrocket as his balls were stretched downward. It was an entirely different kind of pain, as well, the kind of pain which almost made him want to throw up, and which only got worse as time wore on.

"Please sir, take it off. It hurts..." Carl moaned, but when he looked up, he saw Professor Erikson staring at him with those steel gray eyes. But they weren't angry, they were happy. He was enjoying inflicting this pain on him. Carl also saw that the front of his leather pants were tented out.

"It hurts? How much?"

"Eight...Nine."

"My goodness, someone hasn't felt much pain before. This is nothing, compared to what I could do to you." The professor walked over to the wall and returned with a wooden paddle. Without any warning, he brought it down on Carl's ass, making him cry out in pain.

"This is pain. This is your life now, boy. I do what I want to you, when I want to, and you take it because I give it to you, understood?"

"Please...no more," was all Carl could utter. Tears were already streaming down his face just from that first hit, "no more pain."

The professor hit him again with the paddle, harder this time, and Carl broke down into sobs of fear, "I said, is this understood?"

"Yes...please, yes. No more. I understand, sir."

"Good," Professor Erikson said, and came around in front of Carl, "I think that's enough for a control sample." First he took off the contraption from his balls, and then removed the clamps and returned them to the table. Blood rushed back into his angry red nipples, making them sting, but at least he could relax for a moment.

Professor Erikson came back from the table carrying the strange metal headband Carl had noticed before. After everything he had just been through, Carl had no idea what might be next. When the professor saw Carl tense up and try to pull away from him, he just chuckled, "Don't worry, boy. After this, everything will be all better."

After a bit of fussing, he managed to get it onto Carl's head, so that it sat on his ears and went around the front of his head like a pair of glasses. He tried to shake it off, but the professor had secured them on somehow, and they wouldn't budge.

Carl heard the professor's voice over by the computers, "Initializing program 'painpig' in 3...2...1..." but before he could really grasp what was going on, a blaze of white light opened in front of his eyes, and Carl felt his mind shudder. For the next few minutes, he was entirely aware of what was going on in the room, but he couldn't move, and he could feel something odd happening in his head. The dance of light before his eyes never stopped in that entire time. By the end of it, his senses had been so overloaded that he had started to drool without realizing it. After what felt like hours to Carl, the lights finally dimmed, and the professor removed the device. "So, how do you feel?"

It took Carl a moment to remember how to speak. It felt like his very synapses have been rewritten, and he wasn't quite used to the new connections yet. "Strange...sir. What did you just do to me?"

"Allow me to demonstrate. That will be easier than trying to explain it to you," the professor said, and before Carl could react, he grabbed his nipples and twisted them violently. However, it wasn't pain that Carl felt this time. Or, more precisely, it was painful, excruciating really, but he loved it. He let out a moan and felt his cock grow in his pants, and when the professor let go, all Carl could do was pant. "See? I told you everything would be fine."

"Oh, God," Carl moaned, "Please...do that again. I want more."

"Really?" Professor Erikson grinned, "but just a few minutes ago, you were begging me to stop. I thought you didn't like pain."

"I..." Carl muttered, but couldn't get anything out. He just wanted to hurt. He wanted his nipples twisted, his ass paddled, his back whipped. He wanted to feel all of it. "Please, sir. I was wrong. Please."

The professor smirked, and retrieved the nipple clamps from the table and waved them in front of Carl's face, "Are these what you want? What do you want me to do with them?" he said, and then rubbed them slowly on Carl's raw nipples, making the boy shiver.

"Please, put them on me, sir. I need them, sir."

"If you insist," Professor Erikson said, and then clipped them onto Carl, who immediately moaned in lust.

"Oh yes. Yes! More...please..."

"Yeah, you like this, don't you? You want to be my little painpig? You want me to beat you, and fuck you raw, and you're going to love it, aren't you?" He said, and twisted the clips, making Carl pant and his hard cock start to dribble precum on the floor, "I could brand you with a red hot iron, and you'd just ask for more. You're all mine now, and we're going to have a long semester together."

Professor Erikson let go, and Carl, his body nearly pulsing with lust, just mumbled and begged quietly while the professor retrieved the ball stretcher and weights from the table.

"Just be patient, slave. You'll get what you want--what you need," he said, and secured the ball stretcher around Carl's balls again, and added the weights as well, then watched as Carl's eyes rolled back into his head in pleasure. Then he added the weights to the clips on his nipples as well, and started stroking his boy's cock, making him go even more crazed with lust. "Yeah, look at what I've reduced you to. I could cut your balls off, and all you'd feel is sweet, sweet pain," still stroking Carl's dick with his gloved hand, the professor put his mouth right next to his ear, and started to whisper into it, "Let me tell you all of the things I'm going to do to you. I'm going to stretch your balls until they reach halfway to your knees. I'm going to stretch that ass of yours so wide it'll take both of my arms at once. I'm going to pierce your nipples and pump them up until they look like little sausages sticking out of your chest. In fact, you'll have so many piercings by the time I'm through with you that your head is going to look like swiss cheese and your dick and balls will look like a pincushion. I've already made some appointments at the tattoo parlor for you. You know what your first one is? It's going to be the word 'Painpig' across your back, so everyone is going to know what you are, and what you love. You know what else? The whole time, you're going to just beg me for more, and more, and more. Isn't that right?" Carl could only nod. He just wanted to feel that hand stroke his cock forever. To feel this exquisite pain forever.

"And that's not all my computer can do. I can rewrite your entire personality. I can turn you into a sniveling little worm if I wanted to. I could make you piss yourself uncontrollably. I could make you horny twenty-four seven, but make it impossible for you to cum. I own you boy, body and mind. You're mine, and you love it."

With that, he walked away, back to the table, leaving Carl whimpering in need. He returned with one of the largest dildos Carl had ever seen. "Oh...sir. Please. Please let me cum."

"All in good time, boy. But first, what do you think I should do with this dildo? Think it would be very painful if I shoved it up your ass?"

Carl could only nod, and imagine what it would feel like to have that massive black tube ripping his ass apart. Oh the pain! The pain would be beautiful!

"Tell me you want it boy. Tell me you want it, and I'll shove it up there. I'll drive it home, and when I do, you're going to cum without even touching your dick. So tell me, do you want it?"

A small part of Carl, the same part who had told him to flee way back in the office, told him that he should say no. That if he didn't say no, he would be this man's plaything for the rest of his life. But the rest of him, all it wanted to do was serve this man. This handsome master who had given him so much painful pleasure. And he wanted that dildo up his ass. He wanted to know what it would feel like. How much it would hurt. He wanted it to hurt bad. He nodded, and said, "Please sir, put it in me sir. Shove that thing up my ass and make me scream."

The professor smirked, and went around behind him. Carl could feel the rubber tip poking at his hole, and a second later, it was in. His ass cramped down on it, but the professor was merciless, and before he even knew what was happening, Carl was shooting thick wads of cum all over the floor in front of him, and the massive dildo was crammed all the way up his ass, and it felt good. It felt right. It felt horrific.

"Feels good, doesn't it, you fucking pig?"

He was a pig. That's what he had always been, he had just needed Professor Erikson to show him that. The professor was a god among men. Carl would serve him until the day he died, if only so he could become like him. When the professor came around to undo his restraints, his gray eyes no longer terrified Carl. They were beautiful. Hard and cold like a steel blade, merciless, utterly devoid of pity or remorse, and Carl loved them.

When all of his restraints were undone, Carl tried to walk, but was so weak, he fell to his knees. But that felt right too. He belonged on his knees before this man who had given him everything. He stared up at his professor, and saw that he had unzipped his uniform, and his large dick was sticking out. Without him having to say anything, Carl took it into his mouth and started sucking, twisting the clips on his tits while he did it. He was finally Professor Erikson's research assistant, his painpig, and it was everything he had ever wanted it to be.