PZA Boy Stories


Kiddie Treatment

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College student finds that his professor's program with boys is not what he expected.
Publ. 1996; this site Jun 2011
Finished 2,800 words (5½ pages)


Nathan (8yo) and Jerry (8yo)

Category & Story codes

Other story
Mb – oralmind-control


If you are under the legal age of majority in your area or have objections to this type of expression, please stop reading now.

If you don't like reading stories about men having sex with boys, why are you here in the first place?

This story is the complete and total product of the author's imagination and a work of fantasy, thus it is completely fictitious, i.e. it never happened and it doesn't mean to condone or endorse any of the acts that take place in it. The author certainly wouldn't want the things in this story happening to his character(s) to happen to anyone in real life.

It is just a story, ok?

Céladon's note

I got this story from Joe Power, without title or author's name. The document was titled 'treatment.txt'. I searched internet and found the same story a few times, but than with girls instead. None of those have an author.

I suppose the girl version was the original; but the boy version presented here is also very nice. Are you the author, please contact me.

I was home from college when I got a call from my chum, Barry. "You gotta help me," he begged. "I don't know what to do!"

"Calm down," I told him. "What's the problem?"

"You wouldn't believe me," he said. "Come over and I'll tell you."

I went over to Barry's house. His parents were out of town. He met me at the door and hustled me into his room, shutting the door.

"What's the big deal?" I complained. "How come we can't sit downstairs and talk?"

"My kid brother," he said, nervously. "I don't want him interrupting us."

His brother was named Nathan; he was about eight. I remembered a cute blonde with china-blue eyes and curly hair. A little heartbreaker; jailbait even at eight.

"All right, let's have it," I said to him, sitting on the bed. He took a seat at his desk chair, swinging it around to face me.

"OK. But look. This is gonna sound incredible. Try to withhold judgement until I finish." He had a look of pleading in his eyes; I said, "Sure, OK."

"You know my major," he began.

"Yeah; 'Developmental Psych' or some such," I replied.

"Or some such. Well, I got a job as a research assistant with Professor Hillman; one of the biggest names in the field. It was a real plum." He chuckled, as if laughing at himself for his gullibility.

"Well, I worked for the good professor for almost a year. Then I found out… by accident…"


"The research program was supposed to be about 'mental states'. We were using sophisticated instruments and computers to map the patterns of brain activity in volunteers." He laughed again. "Volunteers…"

"Come on, Barry." I was getting a bit tired of his melodramatics.

"All right. The volunteers were children. Mostly boys, from about seven through 13. They paid the parents well; they had plenty of volunteers. The prof explained that boys were more compatible with the equipment. And I bought it!… Anyway, there was a simple headpiece, with a wire bundle coming out of it, that fed into the computers. The sensors on the headpiece were new technology. Superconducting SQUIDs, I think. And there was a screen, that displayed patterns for the subject to watch. It was a passive set-up; the idea was that the kid watched the patterns and we measured the brain activity. The screen was set up in a 'test cell'; just a darkened cubicle with soundproofing.

"Everything was going OK. I was the junior lab assistant; there was a grad student named Ken who pretty much ran the lab. He was an arrogant bastard. Didn't much like him, even then. One night I went to the lab because I'd forgotten some notes. It was supposed to be closed. When I went in, I saw Ken. He had powered up the system; I could see that he had a subject in the test cell. From where I stood, I could see it was a young boy, about Nathan's age; blond, too. I was puzzled. At that moment, the 'experiment' seemed to end; the screen went blank and Ken went toward the cell. He led the boy from the cell.

"There was something wrong; the kid moved like he was sleepwalking. And I could see that he wasn't wearing any clothes! Or rather, he was wearing only a tiny pair of underpants.

"I started to go over to the other side of the lab, to see what was going on. Just then the phone rang in the back office; Ken got up and left the kid standing there, just staring blankly ahead. I went over to him. The moment he saw me, he fell to him knees, and said 'Master, how may I serve you?'

"It was clear that he was in some sort of trance; he was there on his knees, waiting for an order or command."

Barry paused and took a breath. "I gotta tell you, Joe: I stood there, with that handsome little boy kneeling before me, and had a raging hard-on. The thought of an obedient little slave, ready to obey any order I might give him, had me hard as iron in no time."

"What did you do?"

"I told him to stand up, and he did. He faced me, with a lovely smile on his face, and begged me to command him, to use him. I was standing there, stunned, when Ken came back."

"Jesus. What happened?"

"He just grinned, like it was no big deal. He said something like, 'Well, you were bound to find out sooner or later,' and told me to have a seat." I was too overwhelmed to do anything else; I sat down at one of the consoles.

"While the half-naked boy stood there, he told me what he'd been up to. 'Little Jerry here, he's one of our more advanced subjects,' He said. 'He'll do just about anything you tell him; all you need to do is give the right keyword. Wanna see him do tricks?'

"I stammered something; I don't remember what I said.

"He spoke to the boy, said a certain word. The word was simple: XANADU. I learned later that they used this code word with every subject. Whenever one of the programmed kids heard this word, spoken by a man, he'd go into what Ken called 'slave mode'. If he heard it from a woman, or another kid, it'd have no effect. Afterward, when the subject was out of 'slave mode', he had no memory of anything that happened during the trance."

When he heard that word, he turned to him and asked how he could serve him.

"'Jerry, go over there and sit on the man's lap,' he ordered. In no time, the underpants-clad little boy was sitting in my lap with his arms around my neck. My rod was already hard, and he squirmed around on it, rubbing his butt on my erection. Then Ken told him to 'cuddle', and before I knew it, he was kissing me, pushing his little tongue into my mouth!

"In no time, I was too far gone to think about what was happening. My hands were all over him, and he cooed and sighed when I touched his thighs or crotch. Jesus, just remembering it is getting me hot. Joe, he seemed to really enjoy what we were doing; there was no hesitation, no sign of coercion. I had a lapful of willing, precocious, seductive little boy, who was doing his very best to get me to fuck him. After a while, I realized his hands had been busy; he'd managed to get my belt open and my zipper down, and soon his soft little hands were exploring my dick! I couldn't believe how good it felt! In seconds, it seemed, he brought me off. I covered his little hands with my come. Then he deliberately raised his hand to his mouth and licked my sperm up!

"'They're programmed to find sperm delicious; the best thing they ever tasted,' Ken remarked. 'They'll do almost anything to get some of it.'"

"Then Ken said something to him, and he ran to get cleaned up. 'He's pretty good, huh?' he said. 'We've been taking a lot of trouble to get his program right.'

"I was sitting there, my cock shrinking, in total confusion. I started to say something. Just then, the little slave returned with a wet cloth. He cleaned me up, smiling all the time, then turned to Ken and bowed. 'May I serve you further, Master?' he asked.

"'Jerry, go put on your outside clothes; then come back here.' He ran to the side of the lab and got dressed, then ran back to him. 'On three, Jerry, you will forget this session. We had a normal session, just as always. What are your instructions?'

"'I will replay my program when I go to sleep; with each repetition it will become deeper and more compelling,' he said, in a soft monotone. 'I must obey all the commands and suggestions; to disobey is to die. I will return here for my next session, more obedient than ever.'

"'Good. Recite, please.'

"He stood there, folded his arms behind him and recited a little catechism in a sort of sing-song voice: 'I am a little boy, born to serve my Masters. I live only to obey. My purpose is my Masters' pleasure; my body is my Masters' property, my mind is my Masters' to command. I am pleasure; I am obedience; I will serve my Master for the rest of my life.' He gave another little bow, and fell silent.

"Ken counted to three, and he seemed to awaken. With a sunny smile, he said, 'Thanks, Mr. Evans!' then turned and ran out of the lab.

"Ken turned to me. 'Well, I expect you have questions,' he said."

"I'll bet!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah. It turned out that the Prof and Ken had a 'hidden agenda'. The story of the research was phony; they were working on mind control. And they'd had a breakthrough. It wasn't perfect; it worked best on children, and on boys best of all. Something about 'impedence matching'. Anyhow, it was fine with them – it turned out they were both pedophiles! They'd been using the system to program every boy who volunteered. By the time I found out, they had altered the minds of several hundred boys. They marked them, too."


"Yah. Each boy wore a gold ankle bracelet, with a data block on it. Ken told me they'd do almost anything to avoid having it removed. They were planning to put a tatoo on the boys as well. Part of their programming made the kids start to wear really skimpy clothes: tight shorts and muscle shirts and such. Each boy began to wear only the tiny sport type underpants, too.

"Wow. What'd you do?"

"I was going to the Dean. I told Ken. The next night, while I was preparing my evidence to take to the Dean, I returned to my apartment and found three little boys, dressed only in speedos waiting for me."


"Ken had sent them. They offered themselves to me, utterly without shame or guilt. As far as they were concerned, I was simply another Master, to be served and obeyed. Their names were Walter, Carlos, and Michael. The oldest was only twelve. Walter – the asian one – just came up to me and knelt in front of me. 'Please, Master, let me suck your cock,' he begged."


Barry put his head in his hands. "I took them. I couldn't help myself – they were so lovely… and I hadn't had sex for months. Ken knew I would. He hooked me. Just like a drug. Once I'd experienced those submissive little boytoys, I had to have more. I… I… joined them…"

"You helped them?"

"Yeah; I sure did."


"Well, one day I went to the lab and it was empty. The prof and Ken had vanished; all the evidence was gone. I told myself I'd be a fool to go to the Dean now; after all, there had been no complaints. And I was an accomplice! If I squealed, I'd take the rap. A lovely trap."

"Wow. But why tell me?"

"I'll show you."

He led me out into the hall, into the family room where his lovely eight-year-old brother was watching TV. He was lying on the sofa, on his belly, his face toward the TV and away from us. He was wearing nothing but a pair of little leopardskin panties, which were clearly visible. His legs were partially spread, revealing his lovely bottom and crotch. "Look," he whispered, pointing. I could see a thin gold bracelet around the youngster's right ankle. It caught the light as he lazily dangled the leg in the air.

He pulled me back into the hall.

"You're not serious!"

"Serious is right. I tested him. He's programmed. He fell to his knees and gave the stock response, just like the others," he told me. "And see how he's dressed? They've had their 'modesty' inhibition reduced; it's unconcious, but he doesn't care as much any more about modesty. Looser, you know? He'll give you a real show, without knowing that he's doing it. I've noticed that he has trouble keeping his knees together, like proper little boys are always taught to do."

"Good God. Now what?"

"You've gotta help me, Joe. You gotta. I… .I… .know if I'm left alone with him, it's only a matter of time before I say the word to him again… and use him, just like I used the others…"

"Jesus. I don't know what to do!"

"It's not just Nathan. I've been noticing. All over town, I'm seeing little boys in really sexy outfits. Shorts too short. Silky panties under those shorts. Practically non-existent tops. At the mall I saw a group of three of them, dressed in tiny shorts, shopping for more sexy clothes. They were laughing and giggling, like what they were doing was natural and right. I saw one in an ultra-short, with nothing on underneath. The zipper kept flipping open. He didn't seem to care. Jesus, Joe; I've seen their bracelets. And I know the word that'll make any of them a helpless little sex toy."

He was practically weeping. The strain was clearly too much for him.

"It's them. They're here. Somehow they got Nathan; they're getting to hundreds – maybe thousands of little boys. And I don't know if I can do anything to stop them; I'm addicted to the little slaves! My brother, Joe! If I don't get out of here, I'm gonna fuck my eight-year-old brother!"

I smiled at him. "Barry, do you remember my major?"

"What? Electrical Engineering, wasn't it?"

"Yeah; with a minor in Cognitive Science," I told him. "Your friend Ken and the Professor had to have help, you know. All that fancy high-tech equipment. They needed engineering support," I said.

"I guess so. What's your point?"

I cracked open the door to the family room. "Hey, Nate," I called out. The lovely young boy sat up and looked at us, his innocent blue eyes questioning. "What? I wanna watch this," he said. He started to look back at the TV. "XANADU," I said, in a loud voice. his expression changed; his face became blank. With a fluid motion, he was up from the sofa. He ran to kneel before me, all thoughts of the TV program forgotten.

"How may I serve you, Master?" he said, meekly.

"Why don't you begin by giving your brother a nice blow job?"

"Oh, yes, Master!"

And before my pal had fully realized what was happening, his little brother had his pants open and was happily licking and sucking his cock. Barry stood, in shock, looking down at him as he slurped him to hardness. "No… no… this is wrong…" he mumbled. But soon his protest turned to groans, as Nathan's tongue worked its magic.

"We made sure we had little Nate," I told him, as his hips thrust his rod into the little one's throat. "We knew you'd come home for summer break. We've made great progress, and I'm sure you'll be impressed. Professor Hillman found a way to make the process work on anyone – adults, males, females, anybody. And I got the device to fit in a miniature package so it is quite portable. We're programming parents now; teachers, too.

"In fact, your parents are being programmed this very moment, so they will be quite cooperative in your continued use of Nathan. And if you want, you can add any number of willing boys to your harem – no need to limit yourself to only Nate, although he IS delightful. He served me for several days before you arrived. I'll miss him, but my personal harem is now about twenty young boys, so I can afford to let you have him," I told him.

"Christ! You bastards!" he cursed as he pumped his jism down his brother's throat.

"We could have programmed YOU, of course," I remarked, as he shuddered to the end of his climax. "But Professor Hillman has a soft spot for you – and he wanted your voluntary cooperation."

"Did I please you, Master?" Nathan asked coyly, still kneeling, as he stroked and kissed his softening rod. "How may I serve you further?"

"Well, I'll leave you two alone," I told him. "I'm sure you'll find something for him to do. Your parents will be back in the morning, and you'll find that they are quite delighted with Nathan's new life as your first sex slave. Have fun with him; he's a real honey. You ought to see the wardrobe he's got; be sure to have him put on a little fashion show for you. Oh, yeah: you ought to have him invite his little friends over for a slumber party. They've all been programmed; you will find it very pleasant, I assure you. Ken will contact you in a couple of days; we need your help. We're kinda overloaded, processing volume now. We're in the schools, Barry. Well, I've gotta get back; my boys get cross if I'm gone too long."

The End

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