Chapter 5: The New Handler
The sedan pulled up to the same marble lobby at eight-forty. Derek stepped out, and the driver was already gone before the door sighed shut behind him. The morning light was weak and gray, and the tower rose into it like a blade.
A man stood just inside the glass doors. Chinese, tall, mid-thirties, with a jaw that looked like it had been cut from stone. He wore a black suit with no tie, the collar open at his throat. His hands were in his pockets, and he watched Derek approach with the flat patience of a man who was never early, never late.
"Huo Xiao," he said. His voice was low and unhurried. "You're Derek."
"Yes."
"Come."
He turned without waiting, and Derek followed. They crossed the lobby, past the reception desk where the same polished woman did not look up, and entered an elevator. Huo Xiao pressed a button for basement level two. The doors closed. The elevator hummed.
"You're sore?" Huo Xiao asked. He wasn't looking at Derek. He was watching the floor counter tick.
"Uh. A little."
"That will stop soon. Or you'll stop noticing." A pause. "Both happen eventually."
The doors opened onto a corridor that matched the basement level from yesterday. Same white walls. Same fluorescent hum. But Huo Xiao walked past the training room door, past the locker room door, and stopped at a third door. Unmarked. He pushed it open.
The room inside was small and tiled. White ceramic walls, a drain in the floor, a stainless steel counter with a long sink. The air smelled of bleach and cold water. A hose hung coiled on a wall mount, and on the counter lay a metal nozzle, slender and curved, connected to a clear tube.
Huo Xiao closed the door behind them. "Strip."
Derek's heart stuttered. "What?"
"Strip down to the cage. Then stand on the scale."
There was a scale in the corner, a clinical gray platform. Huo Xiao gestured to it. He leaned against the counter, arms folded, and waited.
Derek's hands moved on their own. His T-shirt came off over his head. His shoes, his socks. He unbuttoned his jeans, worked them down his hips, and stepped out of them. The briefs followed. He stood in the cold air in nothing but the steel cage, his small pink cock pinched inside it, the metal snug against the trimmed skin of his crotch.
"Good," Huo Xiao said. "stand on the Scale."
Derek stepped onto the platform. The needle wobbled and settled. Huo Xiao came over, leaned down, squinted at the number, and wrote something on a clipboard that appeared from under his arm.
"One-hundred-and-twenty five” he said. "It’s a good place to start.”
He stepped back. "Hold out your arms."
Derek raised them. Huo Xiao ran a tape measure across his chest, his waist, his hips. The contact was clinical, quick, just a hand brushing skin, but every touch sent a shiver through Derek's groin that the cage made into a dull ache.
Huo Xiao wrote it all down. "Good. Now. Have you ever douched before?"
The question came flat and matter-of-fact, the way Zhang Ming asked about pain levels. Derek felt his face flame.
"No."
Huo Xiao nodded, unsurprised. "Then I'll show you. Watch closely. You'll be doing this yourself once we make sure you've got the technique down."
Huo took off his suit jacket and hung it on a rack, then unbuttoned his white dress shirt and hung that as well. Derek stood in awe of Huo’s chiseled physique as he towered over Derek, his torso covered in only a thin, rubbed white undershirt.
Huo paid no attention to Derek’s clear expression of awe, or perhaps he didn’t even notice. He turned to the counter, unhooked the nozzle, and ran water until the stream ran clear. He set a stopwatch on the counter. Then he nodded at Derek.
"Bend over the sink. Spread yourself. I'll do the rest."
Derek's mouth opened. Nothing came out. His throat had gone dry.
"Let’s go.” Huo Xiao said. Not cruel, not kind. Just a fact.
Derek walked to the sink. The counter was cold against his palms. He bent at the waist, arching his spine the way he'd seen in porn he'd never admitted to watching. His pale ass faced the room, the cage swinging between his thighs.
Huo Xiao moved behind him. He didn't touch Derek's skin. He just held the nozzle in one hand and ran the other along the insides of Derek's ass cheeks, spreading him open. The touch was firm and unhurried, like he was examining a piece of equipment.
"You'll want water at a lukewarm temperature," he said. "Too cold and you'll cramp. Too hot and you'll burn yourself, that’s not good either. I'll set it for you now, but you'll learn to feel it with your wrist."
Huo applied lube to the nozzle and to Derek’s hole. “And be sure to use plenty of lube.”
The nozzle pressed against Derek's hole. He flinched. Huo Xiao's hand came down on his lower back, flat and heavy.
"Relax," he said. "You're a vessel. You're meant to be open."
The words, delivered in that same flat voice, landed in Derek's chest like a key turning a lock. He let out a breath. The nozzle slid in, cool and smooth, and the water began to flow.
It filled him with a strange, full pressure. Not painful. Just insistent. He felt himself swell from the inside, a deep, spreading fullness that made his stomach clench.
"Breathe through it," Huo Xiao said. "When it's full enough, you'll feel the urge to push. Hold it until I say."
Derek's jaw clenched. The fullness built. He could feel his guts churning around the stream, the pressure climbing his abdomen. The stopwatch ticked. Then Huo Xiao pulled the nozzle out, and the pressure turned to a hard, urgent need.
"Push," Huo Xiao said.
Derek pushed. The water came out of him in a long, warm rush, splashing into the sink, running rust colored down the drain. Derek shuddered, gripped the counter, and tried not to think about what he was doing, where he was, who he was doing it for.
"Good," Huo Xiao said. "One more."
"No. That was, that was enough, I'm clean."
"One more," Huo Xiao repeated. "Your training today goes deeper than yesterday. If you're not thoroughly washed out, things could get messy. And no one wants that."
He slid the nozzle back in before Derek could argue. The water resumed its patient flow, filling him again, fuller this time, until Derek's belly felt tight and round. He held it. He pushed when told. The water came out clearer this time, a pale stream that ran clean.
"Good enough," Huo Xiao said. He hung the nozzle on its mount, washed his hands, put his dress shirt and jacket back on, and turned. "Now you can get dressed."
Derek straightened, his whole body trembling. His hole felt raw and open, a wet, tingling emptiness. The cage pressed against his half-hard dick, which had betrayed him somewhere in that clinical, brutal process.
Huo Xiao led Derek into the locker room. He handed Derek a folded stack of clothes. The training gear. The cut-open jeans, the white briefs with the slit in the seat.
Derek dressed in silence. The fabric sat against his freshly cleaned insides, and he could feel the empty space inside him like a held breath. The cage pressed.
Huo Xiao led him down the corridor. This time he stopped at the training room door, pushed it open, and stepped aside.
The room was the same. White padded walls, the contoured chair in the center, the machine beside it with its coiled tubes and its dials. The air smelled of ozone and leather. On a tray beside the chair lay a dildo, larger than yesterday's. Dark silicone, curved, and at the base almost as thick as Derek's albeit skinny forearm.
"Do you recognize it?" Huo Xiao asked.
Derek swallowed. "It's bigger than yesterday's."
"Yes." Huo Xiao touched the dildo, ran a thumb along its length. "Yesterday was about introducing you to the idea of being filled. Today is about opening. About endurance. The alphas who fist you will need your hole stretched to hold their fists. That takes time. That takes conditioning."
He gestured to the chair. "Sit."
Derek sat. The cold leather bit into the backs of his thighs. Huo Xiao went to the machine, checked a dial, pressed something, and a low hum came up through the floor.
The restraints came next. The bar pressed across his thighs, holding them spread wide. Wrist cuffs, snug, padded. A waist strap pulled his hips flush against the chair. The nasal cannula slid into his nostrils, and Derek felt the familiar hiss of the poppers flooding his lungs, sweet and chemical and instant.
"Breathe," Huo Xiao said. He picked up the VR headset and lowered it over Derek's eyes. The world went amber.
Kai's gym materialized around him. The heat, the smell of sweat and iron. Kai was already there, already sweating, already looking at him with that slow, knowing smile.
"Good morning, my little white fag,” Kai said. His voice dropped down Derek's spine like warm oil. "Today we're going to open you. Deeper. Wider. You're going to feel your body start to learn what it's for."
The machine's hum deepened. Derek felt the larger dildo press against his hole, blunt and heavy. It pushed. His muscles resisted.
"Relax," Kai's voice said. "Let it in. You're an empty vessel. You're made to be filled."
The dildo shoved past his resistance with a wet, grinding pop. Derek gasped, the poppers flooding his head with a warm, dizzying wave. The fullness was immense, deeper than yesterday, a stretch that bordered on pain and then tipped over into something else, something that pulled at the base of his spine.
"Good," Kai said. "Now hold it. Feel it. Let it become part of you."
The dildo held still. The poppers hummed. Derek's body clenched and unclenched around the impossible fullness, and Kai watched from the bench with that same pleased smile.
"Endurance," Kai said. "You'll learn to take the dildo quickly. But first, you'll learn to take it deeply. Hold that position, fag. Breathe through the ache. It's not pain. It's opening. It's your hole learning its purpose."
Derek breathed. The chemical fog wrapped him. He felt the dildo pulse inside him, deep and patient, and the fullness began to feel less like intrusion and more like occupation. Like something settling into a space that had always been waiting.
The machine's dial ticked up. The dildo began to move. A slow, grinding rhythm that pressed deeper with each stroke, stretching him wider, working him like a fist opening inside him.
Kai's voice wrapped around him. "Open. Open. Open. Perfect, empty vessel. Beautiful, obedient hole. Nod if you understand."
Derek's head moved on its own. A slow, adoring nod.
Kai smiled. The machine sped up. The dildo plunged faster, harder, deeper, a wet machine rhythm that echoed in the amber gym, and Derek cried out, not in pain, not in pleasure, but in the strange surrendering shiver of a body learning a new way to be full.
The dildo moved inside him with a wet, mechanical rhythm, grinding deeper on every stroke. Derek's eyes rolled behind the headset, the amber gym swimming around him in waves of heat and chemical light. The poppers hissed in his nostrils, sweet and constant, and every breath stacked another layer of fog on top of the last.
Kai had been coaching from the bench, but now he stood. He rose slow, like he had all the time in the world, and the movement caught Derek's eye and held it.
Kai was tall. Not quite as tall as Huo Xiao, but close. His bare chest caught the gym light, smooth and golden, a broad slab of muscle carved into deep planes. His pecs were full and defined, each the size of a dinner plate, the nipples small and dark against the tanned skin. His abs ran down his torso in a hard, ridged ladder, each block of muscle sharp enough to cast its own shadow. The v-line at his hips cut deep, disappearing into the waistband of his low-slung shorts. His shoulders were wide, capped with round, heavy delts, and his arms hung at his sides with that loose, easy power of a man who had never once in his life felt physically threatened.
His face was what Derek kept coming back to. Strong square jaw, clean-shaven, the skin smooth and golden. Dark eyes, heavy-lidded, watching Derek with that slow, amused patience. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead and had soaked into the collar of his tank top, which he'd removed somewhere off-screen. His black hair was pushed back from his face, damp at the temples.
"You like what you see, fag?" Kai's voice rolled over him, warm and amused. "That's fine. Look all you want. That's what you're for. To look, and to open."
The dildo plunged deeper, a hard grinding thrust that pushed against something Derek hadn't known was there. His body arched against the restraints. The poppers surged through him, a wave of heat that turned the ache into a dull, pleasant throb.
"You're adjusting well," Kai said. He walked a slow circle around the bench, arms folded, flexing with every step. "You feel the stretch, but it's already starting to feel normal, isn't it? Already starting to feel like something that belongs inside you."
Derek realized it then. The lube. It was the same as yesterday, thick and slick, but there was a chemical edge to it, a cold tingle that spread through his hole and up into his guts. The pain had faded faster than it should have. The strain was gone, replaced by a strange, contented numbness that made the dildo feel less like an intrusion and more like a part of his own body.
The dildo kept its rhythm, a deep, grinding pump that filled him and emptied him and filled him again. The numbness spread, warm and chemical, until Derek couldn't feel the stretch anymore. He could feel the pressure, the fullness, the way his insides were being reshaped around that thick silicone curve. But the pain was gone, replaced by a heavy, swimming contentment.
Kai walked over to a side table. He picked up a tablet and tapped it. A screen materialized on the wall of the gym, a simplified diagram of a human body, the lower half in cross-section.
"This is you," Kai said. He gestured to the screen. "This is your hole. Your asshole. For you, it’s kind of like a pussy." He traced a finger along the diagram. "This outer ring here, that's the sphincter. The one you clench when you're scared or shy or trying to hold in a shit. Yesterday, we worked on that one. You did good. But that's not the important one."
His finger moved deeper into the diagram, past the outer ring, into the dark red channel of the rectum. "This is the inner ring. The rectosigmoid junction. It's a natural bend in your guts, and it's tight. It's a muscle. It wants to stay closed. And for our purposes, that's a problem."
Derek watched the diagram. The poppers made the lines swim and blur. Kai's voice wrapped around him, patient and commanding.
"We need this open," Kai said. "We need it loose. Because the alphas who use you, they're going to push past this ring. They're going to fist you, and their fists are going to go deeper than you ever thought a body could take. And that muscle has to learn to open, to relax, to let them in."
The dildo ground against something. A new pressure, deeper than before. Derek's breath caught. The machine's rhythm slowed, then stopped, the dildo buried inside him all the way to the hilt.
"Do you feel it?" Kai asked. He had stepped closer now, close enough that Derek could see the sweat beading on his chest, the way his abs moved when he breathed. "That pressure, right there. That's your inner ring. The machine's hit the bend. And we're going to train it to open."
Derek's hole clenched around the dildo. Not on purpose. Involuntary, a spasm of panic.
"Relax," Kai said. "Breathe through it. That ring is a muscle, and muscles respond to pressure. To time. To patience. You're not going to open it all today, and that's fine. Today is about telling it that opening is possible. About teaching your body that this is what it's for."
He reached out and touched the screen, tapping the diagram again. "Focus on this spot. Feel it. Feel the dildo pressing against it. And when it presses, instead of clenching, you're going to breathe and let it press. You're going to imagine it opening like a mouth. Like a hungry little mouth that wants to be fed."
The dildo started moving again. Slower now, but with more pressure. A deep, grinding press that pushed against that tight bend inside Derek's guts.
"Breathe," Kai said. He was close now, standing beside the chair. It was just a video on a VR heat but Derek felt like he could almost smell him, sweat and soap and something warm and masculine. "Let it press. Don't fight it. Just breathe and let it in."
Derek's hands gripped the armrests of the chair. The pressure built, a deep, insistent ache that made his stomach clench. The poppers flooded his nostrils again, sweet and chemical, and the ache turned fuzzy, distant.
"Do you feel it?” Kai said, “That's the ring. That's the door. And you're going to let it open."
The dildo pressed harder. Derek felt his body trying to resist, that deep muscle clamping down, and then he heard Kai's voice again, warm and patient.
"Focus on my chest, fag. Look at my muscles. Look at my abs. Look at my smile. Don't think about the pressure. Just look at me and breathe."
Derek's eyes found Kai's chest. The broad golden planes, the sheen of sweat, the way the light carved shadows into the ridges of his abs. He watched the slow rise and fall of Kai's breathing, the curl of his dark nipples, the V of muscle disappearing into his waistband.
"That's it," Kai said. "Just a stupid little white fag, staring at a man's body. Empty the head. Let the thoughts drain out. You don't need them. You never needed them."
The dildo pressed. Derek's eyes stayed locked on Kai's chest, on the slow flex of his pecs, the way they moved under the skin with every breath.
"That's your true state," Kai said. "Empty. Stupid. Open. It's not something you need to learn. It's something you need to remember. It's who you've always been, under all that thinking."
The pressure built deeper, a slow grinding insistence against that inner ring. And somewhere in the fog, through the numbness and the heat and the intoxicating weight of Kai's voice, Derek felt something give. A slow, grudging loosening, deep inside him. Not a full opening, but the first hint of one. A crack in the door.
"There it is," Kai said. His voice was soft, almost tender. A pleased smile spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his dark eyes. "Look at that. You're learning. That's your natural state, fag. Empty headed and open. And it feels right, doesn't it?"
Derek's head lolled. The poppers thrummed in his veins. The dildo held steady against the inner ring, pressing, waiting, teaching.
"Yes," he breathed.
Kai's smile widened. He ran his fingers through his hair, flexing his bicep and revealing his hairy armpit.
"Good boy," Kai said. "Now let's open you a little more."
Derek reminded himself for a moment that this is just a pre-recorded video— Kai is not really here, he’s not really responding to Derek— he’s computer graphics, he’s not even real— but the look was so convincing, the voice was so convincing, and Derek could feel himself getting dumber and more gullible anyway, just like Kai suggested. Derek whimpered and felt his insides open a little more, letting the dildo in deeper.
Derek's eyes stayed locked on Kai's chest, on the slow flex of his pecs. The dildo pressed against that inner ring, patient and heavy, and the pressure was starting to feel less like a threat and more like a promise.
"Now breathe deeper, fag," Kai said. His voice dropped, slow and syrupy. "In through the nose. Let it fill you all the way down. Then hold it. Hold it until your lungs burn."
Derek's chest rose. The hiss of the cannula flooded his nostrils with that sweet, chemical wave. He held it, his lungs straining, the warmth blooming in his head like a flower opening.
"Hold it," Kai said. "Feel your thoughts getting slow. Feel yourself getting stupid. That's what you want, isn't it? To be stupid?"
Derek held the breath. His vision swam. The amber gym tilted. The heat behind his eyes spread downward, loosening everything in its path. His hole clenched and unclenched around the dildo, soft and helpless.
"That's it," Kai said. "Exhale slow. Let it all out. That's the poison leaving. The thoughts leaving. The worry leaving. Everything that makes a little white fag think he matters, draining right out of you."
Derek exhaled. A long, shuddering breath. The world went soft and blurry at the edges.
"Again," Kai said. "Deeper this time. Hold it longer."
Derek obeyed. Another hiss of poppers. Another held breath. The fog built behind his eyes, thick and warm, and the dildo pressed against the inner ring with a signal that seemed to come from very far away.
"Look at me," Kai said. "Look at my chest. Look at my face. Do I look like someone who worries about what the world thinks?"
Derek breathed out on the exhale.
" I look like a man. An alpha. A Chinese alpha." Kai flexed his pecs, slow and deliberate, the muscles moving under his golden skin like waves. "Do you know why Chinese men are superior to you, fag?"
Derek's head swam.
"Because we built this," Kai said, gesturing at the world around them. "Every empire, every dynasty, every system of order that has ever shaped human civilization. We built it. We manage it. We hold it together while men like you, soft little white boys with your sci-fi novels and your anxious thoughts, run around trying to find someone to give your loyalty to."
The dildo pressed. Derek moaned. The poppers hissed.
"You were born with a hole and a nervous system," Kai said. "No discipline. No lineage. No sense of your place in the order of things. You read books about imaginary futures because you couldn't handle the present. You wanted to be special. You wanted to matter. But you never did, did you?"
Derek's eyes glazed. The words sank into the fog and lived there.
"You never mattered, really. But you were lucky. Because a Chinese alpha found you. And we gave you a purpose. A real purpose, one your weak little body was designed for from the beginning."
The dildo ground deeper. The inner ring gave another fraction, a slow, grudging surrender.
"We build, you open. We lead, you serve. That's the natural order of things. Not because we're cruel. Because we're better. Because we were born to be obeyed, and you were born to obey. All those years you spent being anxious, being confused, being lonely. That was your body screaming at you for a structure it could finally submit to."
Derek's chin dropped. The poppers hummed in his veins.
Kai smiled. "When a Chinese alpha walks into the room, always remember, keep your eyes down. stay quiet. keep your body still and obedient. Stay open. When an alpha is speaking, you stay open. When an alpha is eating, you wait. When an alpha needs to relieve his stress, you bend over and take it. That's your demeanor. That's your respect. You don't give it through words or achievements. You give it through your posture, your silence, your empty head and your open hole."
Kai continued, “You're not a person when you're working, fag. You're more like furniture. You're a warm, tight, stupid piece of furniture that exists to be used and then put away. And that's how the alphas will appreciate you. Not because you're strong. But because you know your place so completely that being in a room with you makes them feel bigger.”
The machine hummed. The dildo began to move again, slow and deep, grinding against the inner ring with that same patient insistence.
“Now, relax and take the dildo deeper. focus on opening that inner ring. But first, I want you to breathe in the poppers one more time. Deep as you can. Hold it until your eyes water. Let the alpha air fill your little fag lungs and make you stupid. Make you worthless. Make you perfect.”
Derek's nostrils flared. The hiss came, stronger this time, a heavy wave of sweet chemical warmth. He drew it down, deep, down into the bottom of his lungs until his chest ached and his head spun and the amber gym tilted around him in slow, liquid circles.
“Hold it.”
Derek held it. His heart pounded. The world shimmered.
“Now let it go. And as you exhale, I want you to feel that inner ring opening. Breathe it open. Let the poison relax it. Let the alpha air work its way inside you and soften every muscle.”
Derek exhaled. A long, shaking breath that seemed to drain all the tension from his body in one slow wave. And as the air left him, he felt something in his guts give. A deep, wet, grinding loose that let the dildo slide another inch deeper. The pressure changed. The fullness became total.
“There it is. You opened. You really opened. You felt that, didn't you? That ring just let go. Just told you it was tired of fighting. Just opened up and said 'come in, alpha, I've been waiting.'”
Derek's eyes rolled. Tears slid down his temples.
The dildo sat against the newly opened stretch, and the sensation was so vast, so complete, that his mind simply left the building. He was in the amber gym. He was in Kai's arms. He was a warm, empty vessel with no thoughts and no name, just a hole that had learned its first real lesson.
“There's a good little white fag. That's your true state. Stupid and empty. You breathe the air of your betters, and it makes you dumb and grateful and wet.”
The machine increased the rhythm. The dildo fucked him through that newly opened ring, grinding deeper with every stroke. The poppers kept hissing, endless, and the fog kept thickening. Derek lost track of where the dildo ended and his body began.
“You love your Chinese alphas. You will show them respect in your demeanor at all times, right?” Kai smiled “I know you will.”
The machine sped up. The room was just the sound of the drone and the wet slap of the machine, and Derek's body in the chair, small and open and floating somewhere far beyond himself.
The session went on for a long time. When the machine finally slowed and stopped, Derek was a sobbing, trembling mess, tears soaking the headset, his hole feeling like a ragged, open wound of pleasure and exhaustion. He had no idea how long it had been.
He didn't notice when Zhang Ming removed the headset. He blinked at the white ceiling of the training room, the amber gym gone, replaced by clinical light.
"You opened," Zhang Ming said. "Second session in the program, and you already let the machine breach the inner ring. That's good. That’s right on schedule." Zhang Ming's voice was flat, clinical, as he adjusted the restraints.
Derek stared at the ceiling. His mouth was dry. His legs were shaking.
"Tomorrow," Zhang Ming said, flipping through papers on a clipboard, "we'll see if your hole remembers what it learned.”
Zhang Ming picked up his clipboard. "Okay, First question.
"Okay. First question." Zhang Ming's voice was flat, the pen already poised over the clipboard. He didn't look at Derek's face. He looked at the spot where the dildo disappeared into Derek's stretched hole, then back at the paper.
"How would you describe what happened inside your body during today's session?"
The poppers hissed. Derek's head swam, the question arriving through a layer of wet cotton. He felt the dildo move with his pulse, deep and heavy, a living pressure that had started to feel like part of him.
"A: A natural inner barrier was opened, allowing me to be filled more completely. B: A tight ring in my guts was forced open, and I felt my body surrender to its purpose. C: A muscle that should have stayed closed was breached, and I felt pleasure in being violated."
Derek's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He thought about the moment the ring gave way, the deep wet grinding loose, the way his mind had simply left. He wanted to say A, the clinical one, the one that made it sound like a procedure.
But the poppers hummed, and Kai's voice was still echoing in the hollow of his skull. "Open. Open. Open."
"B," he said. He couldn't look at Zhang Ming. "A tight ring in my guts was forced open, and I felt my body surrender to its purpose."
Zhang Ming wrote. No pause, no reaction. Just the scratch of the pen.
"Question two. When you felt your inner ring open, what did that sensation mean to you?"
Derek's eyes fixed on the ceiling. The fluorescent light burned. The dildo pressed against that newly opened passage, a fullness so complete it seemed to erase the rest of his body.
"A: It meant I was becoming a more useful vessel for my betters. B: It meant my body was finally learning what it was designed for. C: It meant I was being remade into something that could serve Chinese alphas properly."
The words circled in the chemical fog. He wanted to pick the one that hurt least. Useful. That was almost respectable.
But his mouth opened and said, "C. It meant I was being remade into something that could serve Chinese alphas properly."
Zhang Ming's pen moved. He glanced at Derek over the rim of his glasses, dark eyes unreadable, and for a second Derek felt something hot crawl up his spine. That look. That patient, clinical indifference. Like Derek was a specimen that had done something mildly interesting.
"Mmm," Zhang Ming said. Not approval. Just acknowledgment.
The poppers hissed again. Derek inhaled without thinking, and the warmth bloomed behind his eyes. His hole clenched around the dildo, and Zhang Ming looked down at the clipboard, missing it.
"Question three. How do you feel about your hole now, after this session?"
The word hole landed in Derek's stomach like a stone. He thought about the way it felt now. Stretched. Held open. The dildo sitting inside him like it had always been there, like his body had been hollowed out to fit it.
"A: It feels fuller and more open, and I know that is what my masters need. B: It feels like a part of me that exists for the pleasure of Chinese alphas, and I am grateful for that. C: It feels like a permanent invitation, and I want every alpha who sees me to know they can use it."
Derek's breath caught. The options got worse as they went down. C was a confession he wasn't ready for. B was close enough.
"B," he said. His voice cracked. "It feels like a part of me that exists for the pleasure of Chinese alphas, and I am grateful for that."
Zhang Ming wrote it down. He didn't smile. He didn't frown. He flipped the page on the clipboard and read the next question in the same flat voice.
"Question four. How do you feel about Instructor Kai now that you've completed two sessions?"
The name hit Derek like a wave. The amber gym. The sweat on Kai's chest. The way his voice wrapped around Derek's brain and told him exactly who he was.
"A: I feel devoted to him, and I want to make him proud of my progress. B: I feel like he understands my true nature better than anyone, and I trust his guidance completely. C: I feel like he is a real man, an alpha, and I am nothing compared to him, and that feels right."
"B," Derek said. The word came out wet. "I feel like he understands my true nature better than anyone, and I trust his guidance completely."
Zhang Ming's pen scratched. The poppers hissed, soft and rhythmic. Derek's eyes drifted down from the ceiling to Zhang Ming's hands. Long, slender fingers wrapped around the pen. A silver watch on his wrist, plain and expensive. The checked button-down, sleeves rolled up, the forearms pale and wiry but somehow still strong, still the forearm of a man who didn't need to show strength because he knew he had it.
Zhang Ming looked up. "Question five. What does the word 'open' mean to you now?"
Derek felt his hole clench around the dildo. Involuntary. A spasm of something that wasn't quite shame and wasn't quite desire.
"A: It means my body is ready to receive whatever an alpha needs to give me. B: It means I am available, always, for the use of my betters. C: It means I am a hole that exists to be filled, and I am proud of that."
Derek swallowed. The poppers fogged his thoughts. He stared at Zhang Ming's fingers, at the way he turned the pen between them, patient, waiting.
"C," Derek whispered. "It means I am a hole that exists to be filled, and I am proud of that."
Zhang Ming wrote. His hand steady. His face blank. He didn't look up.
"Question six. How do you feel about the Chinese alphas who will use you in the future?"
The dildo pressed deep, shifting with Derek's breath. He felt himself clench around it, squeeze it with a body that was still learning what its true purpose was.
"A: I am nervous about being used by men who are bigger and stronger than me. B: I am excited to be used by men who have earned the right to use me. C: I feel like my body is already theirs, and I want them to come and take it."
Derek's throat closed. He looked at Zhang Ming. The glasses. The thin lips. The way he held the clipboard like it mattered more than the man strapped to the chair. And Derek realized, with a slow, dawning humiliation, that he wanted Zhang Ming to look at him. To really look at him. To see the dildo buried inside him and want something.
Zhang Ming didn't look.
"C," Derek said. His voice shook. "I feel like my body is already theirs, and I want them to come and take it."
Zhang Ming wrote. The pen scratched. The poppers hissed, and Derek breathed it in, and his head swam, and his hole clenched around the dildo, and he felt himself getting hard in the cage, a useless, aching pressure against the steel.
Zhang Ming flipped the page. "Final question, Derek."
The sound of his name, flat and clinical, made Derek's stomach flip. Zhang Ming never used his name. Just read the questions. Just wrote the answers. But he said it now, like a warning.
"What did your body learn today that your mind is still trying to deny?"
Derek froze. The question hung in the sterile air. He felt the dildo pulse inside him. The poppers hissed, and his vision tilted.
"A: My body learned that opening is pleasure, and I want more of it. B: My body learned to crave being filled, and I am starting to need it. C: My body learned that I belong on my back, empty-headed and open, for whatever alpha wants me."
Derek's mouth opened. Closed. He felt the cage press against his trapped cock, and the need building behind it was so sharp it made his eyes water.
"A," he said. "My body learned that opening is pleasure... and I want more of it."
Zhang Ming wrote. Then he set the clipboard down on his knee and looked at Derek for a long, silent moment. The dark eyes behind the glasses were patient, evaluating.
"That's an improvement," he said. "Yesterday you chose the softer options. Today you're starting to choose the ones that are true. It'll take time, but we'll get there."
Derek stared at him. The dildo pressed deep. The poppers hissed. And somewhere in the chemical fog, Derek felt a strange, humiliating thrill at the words "we'll get there." Like he and Zhang Ming were on a journey together. Like Zhang Ming cared, in his flat clinical way, whether Derek learned to be a good empty hole.
Zhang Ming stood. He tucked the clipboard under his arm. "I have a debrief with senior management. You'll be released shortly." He paused at the door, hand on the frame, and looked back.
He left. The door clicked shut. And Derek lay strapped to the chair, wholly impaled, his heart pounding, his cage aching, and he felt a flush of something so close to pride that it terrified him. He had opened. He was learning. And the man who had written it all down didn't care about him at all, and that made Derek want his approval even more.