POLLY, THE MYSTERY BOY

BY XERO

Warning: This is all fantasy fiction for adults only.

"I've had a good look at him, Martin and he's perfectly healthy, as far as I can see." The doctor put down his stethoscope and looked past the boy in the strange hood to the man sitting alongside.

"He's about eleven years of age, no physical problems, nothing wrong with his insides, at least as far as I can tell without being able to look in his mouth. That hood beats me."

"So, what do we do about this hood. That plastic thing over his head?"

The doctor laughed gently at what his old friend said. "We? You're including me in this mystery?"

"Okay, me then, but I could with some help." Martin Goff sighed. "Shit, I don't know what to do, David. I can't get that thing off and he can't speak, so what now?"

"You have of course thought of going to the police." The doctor smiled. "I'm sure your colleagues on the force would be fascinated. Or was your bringing him here a way of saying you'd like to keep him?"

Martin looked at his friend David and couldn't help grinning. "You know me too well."

David Ellis, the town's doctor, nodded. "And I should be flattered you chose to share him with me."

"So what would you do?" Martin gestured at the boy, sat quietly on a chair facing the doctor, arms behind him where they were secured.

"You mean, how would I keep him?"

"I should have known you'd say that," said the younger of the two men.

"Look, Martin. I'm no kind of religious man. If I go to church it's for appearances only, but then that's how most people are." The doctor paused and regarded the boy sat close to him. Eleven years or so, hooded with some strange rubber or plastic, arms secured behind him with the same polymer, wearing a short see through plastic dress and naked underneath. A boy more strange than anything he'd ever encountered before. "But you've had a stroke of good fortune. Almost like a gift from above. Which as a scientist I don't believe in I hasten to add."

The doctor sat back. "Let's look at what you've got here. A healthy, normal caucasian boy. Almost certainly English, but may be a secret import. Eleven, maybe twelve judging by his genital development though it's one of the bigger ones I've ever seen. Yet we don't know who he is and we can't find out as he's gag-"

"You said we," chuckled Martin. "You in on this?"

The doctor waved his friend's comment aside. "Okay, we. For now. Let me go back. This boy lands in your lap as it were, a figure wandering down a country lane. He's hooded with this strange material and with a doll's face painted on it including cute cupid lips, and clearly gagged within it. There is a hole at his lips so a drinking straw can go through, so he can be fed. He can hear because he obeys orders and there are holes at his nostrils so he can breathe well enough. He can see through the eye holes but it seems his vision has been restricted somehow. I suspect they are some sort of contact lens applied to his eyes. All I do know is that he can see maybe ten, fifteen feet ahead clearly but loses the ability to define after that. Spectacles would of course correct that.

"His vision may have been restricted to reduce the risk of him wandering off. But ankle chains would have done that, though perhaps they were added as needed, or he's meant to be able to spread his legs wide.

"What I find most strange is not that he's hooded - we've seen boy slaves hooded at the Red Cock Club before - but that was always leather or latex. Nothing like this." The doctor leaned forward and ran his hands over the cheek of the hooded boy. He didn't flinch. If anything, he leant into it slightly.

"The boy's affectionate," said the doctor. "Good. Whatever this stuff on his head - and it's the same stuff that keeps his arms in that single glove arrangement - it doesn't distress him. I'd say, if anything, he's been bred to be some sort of slave."

"Slave? Fuck... that's great." Martin sat forward. "You think he escaped from some place? Not the Red Cock. I 'm pretty sure the boys we see there aren't real slaves - and anyway not like this."

"Nothing round this area that I know of, there are no government laboratories for miles," said the doctor. He had stopped stroking the soft polymer on the boy's cheek and the child had relaxed back. "But it may not be a government place at all. Though this stuff that's all over his head and arms isn't like anything I've encountered before. It seems indestructible, like it's permanent. It's fixed at his neck, covers his head - and while bald dolls may look strange I can see the appeal - and is attached at the back by a thick strand to his arm-sheath. I tried to cut it and couldn't, so I think it needs some special solution to dissolve it."

"It's creepy, him being bald."

The doctor chuckled. "Well, I imagine he's been fed some anti-hair growth compound, or had every hair removed, so he'll be bald underneath. Probably permanently. This hood isn't meant to come off, so they can't have it like some turban hiding years of growth. I'd say Polly here is well and truly hairless, hooded and helpless."

"Polly?"

Another chortle from the doctor. "Yeah! Polly is my name for him. Polly, for polymer. Polly because with that short dress and the girl's face on the hood he's meant to be some sort of little girl toy."

"You tried his nipples?" Martin's eyes were twinkling. "I did. Has a great reaction. Make him stand up for the best effect."

David Ellis shook his head, but did. He gestured for the boy to stand, which he did. Then the doctor reached inside the thin, see-through plastic dress and squeezed one of the boy's nipples. The reaction was indeed obvious and immediate. The boy's small penis sprang to attention, hard and straight, pushing up the short plastic dress.

"So he has been trained for sex," said David slowly. He hadn't let go of the boy's nipple and as he rolled it between his thumb and forefinger he watched as pre-cum glistened at the tip of the boy's cock. "I guess if I keep playing he squirts, right?"

"I think you have to do both nipples at the same time for that."

David Ellis laughed. "My, what a pleasure machine we have here. I did take the trouble to examine his arsehole - well, I would, as I like small boys so much - and it's been well used. Not violently. Lots of lubrication, though the trace I found is nothing like we use." The man looked down. "Yes, his cock is larger than we'd expect on a pre-teen. Almost engineered, I'd say, to grow to a near adult size."

"So, you thinking of drilling him?"

"You hadn't?" The doctor was working on the other nipple now, simultaneously with the first. The boy, arms fastened behind him, was moaning and shaking. His head went back and Polly's well-sized cock grew a little more, its purple head glistening. It didn't take long for the cock to tremble and spurt cum all its own, several pulsing ropes of semen splattering both the doctor's front, trousers and the carpet. So much it was like a shower.

"Oops. I should have told you," laughed Martin at the doctor's look of distaste, "it's better if you do that standing behind him."

"Thanks," said David. He let go of the boy's nipples and examined the boy-cream on his front. "Last time a boy shot on me I whipped his bum. Hmmm, but there's plenty of it. So he's been given a cum-boost."

"What the hell's that?"

"A cum-boost is a chemical compound injected into the boy's balls - or a man if he wants it. It generates more semen and, as his balls are loaded anyway, it gets a good throw distance and volume. I suspect Polly here has been pumped full of it and trained to cum when stimulated. So," the doctor was using his handkerchief to wipe his front clean, "he is a sex toy of a strange variety."

"How strange?"

"Well, I would say he's been given this boost not for his pleasure but some cum-drinking men - or women. People who like lots of it. Personally, I prefer to give rather than receive but not everyone's like me."

"This cum-boost," asked Martin. "Then I could have one?"

"Not unless you want to have pain when you shoot. You see, Polly here put his head back not because he was enjoying it, but because it hurts. When you cum, it's pleasurable for you if not the boy on the end of your cock. With that stiff inside you neither of you would enjoy it. See, look at his face, under that mask he's crying."

Martin stood and examined the boy's face. Tears were puddling in the boy's eyes.

"Good torture, wouldn't you say?" The doctor had given up trying to clean himself as his handkerchief was inadequate for the amount on him. "Pain instead of expected pleasure. You see, I think he will have been allowed to cum normally, so for a while he was enjoying any sexual games. Now, it hurts him. But then its a good way of keeping control. I suspect he gives pleasure but isn't expected to have any."

"The perfect boy slave," grinned Martin, who had started to fondle Polly's arse cheeks. "You tried anything up here?"

"If you mean my dick, no. I think he normally wears a training plug though. He should have some tension in his anal ring but not too much. Yet if he escaped, he did so without the plug. Or got it out. Yet when all's said and done the people who did this to him, government or private enterprise, would hardly have made it easy to get out as his hood and arm-sheath won't come off.

"I'm surprised, as you are in the police Martin, you haven't heard of any place near here that may do all this."

"There's no law they have to register with us," said Martin with a shake of his head. The boy flinched a little as Martin's forefinger slid easily into his back hole. Polly's cock, which had subsided, stirred again and started to rise.

"Good training," said David, impressed at what he as seeing. "He gets hard when fingered."

"You think he'd cum again if I fucked him?" Martin was laughing.

"Not with me in front of him," grinned the doctor, getting up to step aside.

"Fuck," groaned the man fingering the boy. "I've got two fingers up him now." The boy was also leaning forward slightly, as if allowing easier access to his shitter.

"This is every interesting," said the doctor. "He is completely submissive. It's funny too seeing that painted look on his face. The doll's face makes him seem happy even when it hurts. You sure there have been no enquiries at the station for him, or any missing person?"

"I've been off duty for two days - and I'm not going to call in. I was working all through that big demonstration recently in London and got no time off. This is my belated holiday, so I'm not checking on him." The man was working his hand rapidly in and out of the boy, who had leaned forward further. "God, it's so slick and easy here. You think I should fuck him?"

"Martin! What you do with your prick is up to you. You don't have to ask me if you can bugger what you've found on the street."

"But, there wasn't anything wrong with him? Nothing to stop me?"

"No disease, pestilence, plague or steel teeth trap, if that's what you're worried about."

"Good," grinned Martin. He had stopped fingering the boy and was unzipping his trousers, his own rod emerging thick and hard and weeping pre-cum. "I've been waiting for the all-clear. What you going to do with Polly?" The man had positioned himself so his stiff willie was pressing up into the boy's arse. Polly was leaning well forward now to accommodate it, his cheery doll's face not revealing whatever he may have been feeling inside.

"Oh, I'll watch you fuck him, then I'll whip him. I said I don't appreciate boys cumming on me."

Polly was still smiling as Martin's cock was pistoning in and out of him and the doctor produced from his bag the length of rubber tube he took everywhere. Medical or pleasure, the tube served him well. Tears were dripping from Polly's face though and David smiled as he cracked the tube as if it was whip in front of the sex toy's face.

"Hurry up, Martin, or I'll whip your arse to make you get on with it." The doctor gave a playful flick of his wrist and the tube slapped against the man's bum.

"Ouch," grunted the bare-arsed man. "That hurt!"

"Then get on with it. Or do you want me to beat you while you fuck Polly?"

"Oh... be quick! I'm ready to squirt."

David laughed and with the tube delivered several quick, hard blows to his friend's quivering cheeks. He timed the whippings to coincide with his friends' push back out, as if urging him to drive deeper into the boy's arsehole. At every blow Martin grunted in a mixture of pain and pleasure, and rammed harder into Polly, who was shaking either with pain or fear.

"Fuck," groaned the man behind the boy as the seventh or eighth slash cut across his already well-marked arse cheeks. "I love being whipped while I fuck arses... I love boys and... oooh... shit, there... ah... I've fucking filled him with cum."

"And I'm sure he enjoyed it. Now pull out of him and bend him over more for me. I'll see if I can whip his shithole as your cum dribbles out."

Martin did so cheerfully, bending the boy right over and reaching under him to play with his nipples as the doctor began to whip Polly's bare arse, the sound of the rubber tube whipping the firm buttocks of the boy resounding round the room. "If I can make him cum like this, doctor, I reckon he'll shoot his load into his own face," smirked Martin as he reached under the boy and inside his plastic dress and grasping the boy's sore, swollen nipples.

"I was thinking," said David, as he steadily aimed the blows noisily at Polly's unprotected arse. "Later I can pierce his nipples and we can keep him in the old stables as our pet, chain him up to the wall with them so he can't run away. If he fights the chains, he'll cum and suffer."

"Good," said Martin. "The other guys will want to play with him too. Just a moment... there, he's cum and wow... look at all that spunk on his face! Pretty awesome."

"I'll look later. I haven't finished whipping him yet," grunted David, putting more into his strokes. "But we won't share him. Fuckable little Polly is ours."

"Right," agreed Martin, getting hard again. "All ours to play with, fuck and torture."