The Telemachus Story Archive

Research Grant
Chapter 16 - Finale
By JMack
Email: JMack

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Grayson bucked up off the credenza again, his body flexed in perfect relief as he struggled against the taut bindings that held him down. Muscles contorted across his physique as he screamed at the little professor who had again retreated to the bar area, “If you think I am going to lay here and let you turn me into some sort of freak toy for you and your fucking research grant, you’ve got another thing coming!”

The professor placed the wooden box back by the sink and reached into a drawer there for the last implement he would need for the afternoon. As he returned to the credenza he watched as his claimed prize stud bucked up and pulled on the metal rings fastening him tightly down.

“All those hours in the gym Mr. Grayson and all of your athletic prowess will do you no good now. You have signed your body over to the Research Grant. You are now simply, Subject 17. You may flex and twist to your heart’s content right now but in the coming days you will beg your assistant to help you. You will want to report for collection. You will come to love the time you spend in the lab.” Again the old man set a small vial on the oak surface between the bound thighs. The evil smile crossed his face again as he lovingly stroked the smooth inner thigh splayed before him. “I know it will be hard for Ms. Gordon to let go of the pleasure you bring her but until further notice, you will only emit moans of pleasure in the presence of your research assistant. I am sure you will find a way to communicate to her that your pants will remain on in her presence. After all, how would you explain your rings?”

With a fierce tug, knowing he couldn’t free himself, Grayson stared at his captor, “Fuck You!” The rock hard baseball sized biceps strained at the cuffs.

The professor poured a small amount of liquid into a rag as he watched to boy struggle. “I promise I won’t do anything too inappropriate while you’re napping Subject 17.” He walked along side of the credenza, eyeing the gorgeous body before him. “You will be back in the lab soon. I will notify you in class of your first collection date. For the coming day or two, I would avoid all contact with citrus. You are ample in the manhood department but even your size won’t move those rings. You may be very uncomfortable if any remaining Erectix is activated.”

The boy bucked and twisted as he watched the professor raise the rag up towards his face. “You sick freak!”

“When you awake in an hour or two, I will have freed you of your restraints. You’re the only subject in the study that had to be restrained to be enrolled but isn’t that what they say about stallions, roping them makes them fall in line?” The little man leaned in very close to the handsome boy’s face and whispered in his ear, “Good night Subject 17. Soon you will be our prize stallion in the Research Grant study” With that he placed the chloroform soaked wash rag over the mouth and nose of the boy as he bucked again against his restraints. Seeing that magnificent body rendered helpless by him and hearing his subject’s stifled protests was thrilling. He was now the one in control. The squirming young man glared at him with a hatred that was mixed with, or so the professor detected, a growing look of fear. “Yes, I imagine this is not how you thought you’d handle this matter or me, huh? Not so smug now are you Mr. Grayson, or should I say, Subject 17.” The man laughed causing the Boy Wonder to continue to violently struggle in his bindings. Soon however Grayson’s pupils dilated and his movements slowed. His muffled protests slowly became inaudible. In a matter of seconds, his enrollee was out cold, limp in the restraints that had held him down.

Raynor busied himself in tagging the collected emission with Grayson’s study number and reorganizing his office, placing the washrags in the laundry bin under the small sink in wet bar every so often glancing over at the physical perfection lying motionless in the manacles on his customized filing cabinet. The boy would be back here near the end of the study, Raynor knew that but it was hard for him to concentrate on not toying with him now. Smiling to himself he busied himself in cleaning up the room and getting young Grayson ready for the next phase of the study.

Awaking from the chloroform, Grayson’s head was full of fuzz. As his bight green eyes fluttered open he realized the room he was in had grown completely dark, the only illumination was from a light outside the window. His mind slowly swam back to him. He had been restrained here, as he had many times but this time by a once trusted teacher. He found himself laying over a flat piece of office furniture in front of a long mirror. He recalled being manacled to it but now, rather than being inclined so he could see himself it was once again flat. He pushed himself up with his right wrist, where a red cuff mark was clearly visible. The cuffs hand been tight and he had fought them hard as his professor had toyed with his manhood.

“Oh God”, the young college stud whispered quietly to himself as his mind continued to clear. He had been lured here because Professor Raynor knew who he was. The professor threatened to out his identity and that of Batman’s to all of Gotham! He had allowed himself to be fondled, oiled and teased by the little gay man in an attempt to keep his identity secret.

As he sat up, one leg on either side of the cabinet, facing himself in the mirror he continued to regain his memory. He’d been given some sort of drug, what did the professor call it? Irecto? Erector? Erectix! That was it! It had been administered through the posing oil that the professor had coated him with. He had posed for the old guy, let him feel him like an object. Grayson’s mind swam as he continued to realize what he’d done. He’d signed some form of contract, his identity on the line with the old man. Then, Grayson’s stomach lurched a little at the thought of, through a medically induced arousal, the old man had jacked him off! Into a test tube! “Aw, fuck”, Grayson whispered to himself as he swung his left leg around to sit on the side of the credenza.

His mind still clearing the college bodybuilder realized that although he had been nearly naked while strapped down, he was now fully clothed. Pushing himself up off from the credenza he moved with the grace of an athlete stealthily to the door. His instincts told him to listen before opening the office door that led to the hallway, as he bent to place his ear to the door he looked down. Suddenly he was brutally aware of the situation the professor had left him in. His briefs bulged obscenely and a small square filled the pouch along with his junk. “Shit, he locked me into something!” His memory still returning the boy flung the office door open and sprinted down the hallway he had entered through hours before.

As he descended the stairway he recalled that once, a couple of years earlier, the Riddler had lured him to an abandoned warehouse on the pretense that Batman was in danger there. Once in the warehouse he’d been gassed somehow and restrained between two poles with manacles. The Riddler’s henchmen had stripped him to the waist and when he awoke he found the Riddler tracing the outline of his manhood with his fingers. “Ah, Boy Wonder, while we wait for the Bat to arrive, I think we should have some fun!” The Riddler enjoyed feeling his tight muscular body as he struggled with the manacles and had even slid a wicked gloved hand into his briefs just as Batman arrived. In his years fighting crime however he had never been blackmailed or forced to submit as Raynor had made him do.

Now, as he leapt onto the Bat-Cycle, he could feel the cold steel that held him hostage. He knew that he’d have to hide himself from Batman and, from, worst of all, Barbara until he could figure a way out of the chastity device he was now encased in. As the cycle roared to life he wondered just how long he’d have to keep the secret that he, The Boy Wonder, was Subject 17.