The penile colony

by brazboy   

Raimundo Santos is a ruthless killer about to face justice. He is also one of the first convicts to go through the new Brazilian reclusion profess: penification.

Raimundo Santos entered the court of justice with his hands behind his back, his wrists uncomfortably cuffed, as his handsome face looked down, pushed forward by two sturdy guards. He was known by the media as the “hot murderer,” a handsome stud who used his body to attract his victims, rape and then kill them, which he did to over 20 people over the span of 10 years since the early age of 19. He had only been captured because, being bisexual, one day he messed with a judoka whose thick muscles proved too much for him—he wasn’t used to drugging thick martial artists, or fighting them, and he lost.

The whole court watched as Raimundo sat to hear the sentence, and not only because he was handsome, but because of the prospects that he would be judged to serve his time in prison as a dick—that ought to extract a reaction for the horrible killer. The judge, a serious old lady, read the words in a monotonous tone—it couldn’t be that bad, Brazil didn’t have the death penalty, at most he would get 40 years which means he could be out before by his late 70s, and that is if he didn’t get paroled or a sentence commute for good behavior.

“The accused has shown absolute inhumanity and a complete lack of any remorse, and is therefore assessed to be irrecuperable to society. His actions were not only planed, but also pursued methodically, over the span of many years and with many individuals, some of whom he had a personal connection with. Many young men and women have lost their lives to satisfy the accused’s sick thirst, and so the first concern of this court is that he will never again be able to do that to another innocent victim,” the judge said, and then looked up from her paper towards Raimundo, who tried to look stoic.

“That is why this court condemns the accused to 40 years imprisonment, which can be served in a penile colony,” the judge proclaimed, and immediately photos were taken of Raimundo’s face as it contorted itself in fear and somberness—reality was hitting at once: his actions had consequences. He had expected this long sentence time, but not a penile colony—that was a new form of arrest that had just started being implemented, and no one had been sentenced to it for more than 3 years. He knew the media was saying it was a possibility, but he hadn’t wanted to believe it.

Raimundo almost collapsed on the chair, fainting in pale fever as the guards moved to sustain his body.

Raimundo woke up on the court’s infirmary, still restrained and with two cops besides him, as a nurse injected his veins with a saline solution to hydrate him.

“Ah, he is awake,” noticed the beautiful female nurse, and the two cops immediately glanced down at the 29-year-old. The truth is they were both hard, as Raimundo was quite handsome a lad to look at, despite how evil he was. It was no wonder he got so many victims so easily—he could probably get at least one of the guards to suck him, if he wanted to.

“Ahhh, officers…? Am I going to a penile colony, then?” he asked, and one of them—grumpy and about 40 years old—didn’t respond. The other one, maybe 10 years his junior, nodded.

“Yes, you are, for a long time, son,” he said, and Raimundo laughed, his head still light. He looked younger than he was, but being called son by a guy less than 5 years his senior was funny to him. This one is the one who wanted to suck Raimundo—he was pretty sure.

“F…fuck,” the murderer said, and after the nurse said he was good enough to go, the officers scouted him to their car to take him directly to the penile colony.

They drove for about an hour or so and then stopped the car inside the garage of a massive and brand-new federal jail—the first penile colony in the whole of the country. This prison could host up to 25 thousand inmates, and was seen as one of the most promising solutions to the problems of overcrowded jails and gang violence inside prisons. Even Raimundo had heard about it, when it was inaugurated a few months before, when he was still in trial, but he never thought he’d be sent here—it was supposed to receive only short-term prisoners as nobody knew what being in a penile colony long term would cause to the human body or mind.

However, here he was—apparently a serial killer like him was the best lab rat on which to test the long-term effects of penification. And so Raimundo was escorted inside the jail itself, and then to a very clean and white room, which looked just like one in a hospital, but simpler. Raimundo then had his legs and hands cuffed to the bed, so he could really pose no resistance, and only after five minutes did the doctor and a handsome and muscular nurse entered the room.

“This is Raimundo Santos?” the doctors addressed the officers, who nodded.

“Yes,” responded the criminal, who was blatantly ignored. The doctor went to a counter on the side prepare some injections, while the nurse took some measurements of Raimundo and informed it to the doctor.

“194 centimeters, 83 kilograms, according to the information here no allergies. Is that correct?” The nurse had finally addressed Raimundo, who nodded. “I asked if it is correct,” the nurse repeated, and Raimundo cleared his throat.

“Yes, sir,” he said, swallowing dry. This situation made him nervous, but not in the thrilling sense. He didn’t like being stuck, chained and being treated like a thing. He liked being in control, tying people down, and then raping and killing them. He hated being handled like this.

“No allergies,” the nurse confirmed, and the doctor nodded, as the nurse then turned back to Raimundo.

“I will check your cock now,” said the male nurse, and as Raimundo’s eyes opened in anger, the nurse lowered his pants and exposed his monster rod—the one that had raped so many victims, the one Raimundo would soon inhabit. “Big,” said the muscular nurse, and Raimundo, feeling exposed and controlled in a way he had never experimented, started to try to resist by moving his lips.

“Stop moving!” shouted one of the guards, moving to grab and push Raimundo down, but the strong nurse could do it by himself. One arm went to Raimundo’s neck, chocking him, and the other hand to his massive floppy cock, slapping it.

“You might have been in control out there, Raimundo, but not anymore,” whispered the nurse, as Raimundo shook and salivated in anger, as his abs were massaged, his cock violated, his foreskin rubbed. He was being taken control of as he never had before—he only had sex with people he’d eventually kill, except that judoka. Now… now he had not even that choice anymore.

While the nurse chocked Raimundo until his eyes rolled and he stopped resisting, the doctor finished the mixtures and soon brough the three syringes and put them on a table while the nurse let go of Raimundo and moved to clean his arm and prepared for the injections. The guards watched hard, seeing Raimundo’s manhood engorging after his being dominated like that.

“Raimundo Santos,” said the doctor, sitting on a small bench next to the murderer. “You are here to be penified, so you can fulfill your 40-year reclusion sentence as a conscious penis,” explained the doctor, quickly, as if reading off a prompt. “I will inject you with these three syringes. One will soften your body, the other will numb your body, and the third will activate the penification process. Then, we will put you in the penification machine, and in about 2 hours we expect you will be a conscious penis. As a conscious penis you will keep your human rights and dignity, but certain laws will no longer apply to your body. From then on, you’ll be attached to a security officer alongside other 40 to 60 inmates, and will be kept secure during the fulfillment of your sentence. You will have the right to two hours of sun-bathing every day, alongside the other inmates attached to your security officer, and you’ll be jacked off twice a day, according to a schedule. If you misbehave, you might be detached from your officer and put in solitary confinement where your penified body will be fed milk via a syringe,” finished the doctor, already grabbing the first syringe.

“Do you understand?” asked the nurse, and Raimundo swallowed dry, his tongue licking the spit he had drooled over his chin and lips.

“Yes… yes, I do,” he said, although that was only partly true. Anyway, his arm was then quickly injected with one, two and then three syringes. He grunted, feeling their cold liquid running through his veins. Raimundo started sweating and grunting, his body going numb, and then trembling in heat.

“He can’t react now. Undress him and bring him to the machine,” said the doctor, as Raimundo started to tremble and drool from his mouth, his eyes rolling, his cock hardening and slapping his abs, drooling abundantly. The process was already starting, but he couldn’t penify outside of the machine that would change his body forever. The guards, though, followed the orders and uncuffed and undressed the handsome lad—his muscles were delicious and his cock a beautiful thick 31-centimeter-long missile, drooled abundantly now.

“Lucky bastard,” said the 40-year-old officer in an angry whisper, as the two of them carried trembling Raimundo, naked, his muscular arms falling to the sides, to the next room.

The next room was just a white square with a massive machine in the middle, which looked like an MRI machine, but bigger and even sturdier. They laid Raimundo’s body inside, and then all left to the control room, from where the doctor turned the machine on.

“This is my favorite part,” whispered the nurse, smirking, his own cock growing under his uniform as he watched the change.

Meanwhile, inside the machine, Raimundo was feeling awfully weird. He could barely control his limbs anymore, although he could think clearly. His body was all numb, except for his cock. He tried to grunt, but all he could do was spit, and drool from his trembling cock. He tried to shout, but all he could do was roll his eyes, as the machine started operating.

The machine bathed Raimundo in a world of light. His body felt as if it were floating. His mind was confused and slowly he felt it being reduced—his thick and proud cock went from being a prestigious appendage to the center of his whole world, thick, immense—it felt like it was growing, to Raimundo, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t so much that his body was morphing, it was just decreasing, collapsing, into his majestic manhood. Raimundo’s consciousness moved to the fat head of his manhood, and accommodated there, while his handsome face melted into his torso, and so did his legs, and then that thick muscular frame also melted into his cock, becoming one.

The machine did its wonder, reshaping Raimundo’s open body as he was watched by the doctor, the nurse, and the two guards. All four were rock hard under their clothes, but the doctor was sweaty as he had to actually operate the machine, changing the settings slightly here or there to adapt to Raimundo’s health readings.

Meanwhile, the nurse was clearly enjoying watching the process—he was an expert in penification, and for a reason: he fucking loved it. He always got hard watching a penification, but hardly ever so much as now, as it was rare for an inmate to be this handsome, this well shaped, and to have such a thick and nice cock in which to transform. As such, the nurse was in dire straits, trying to adjust himself but panting as Raimundo’s muscles trembled and collapsed on themselves, merging with his fat, throbbing and oozing 31-centimeter schlong. The nurse was almost forgetting how to breathe, as he ate that shit up with his eyes.

“Fuuuuuck!” whispered one of the two police officers—the youngest one, of course. He had just come on his briefs without touching himself, simply from watching the process transform Raimundo into the fat dick he had been wanting to suck. The fat cock Raimundo was becoming was nervous, red, angry, trembling and drooling much pre. It desired to be touched, as cocks do; it demanded it, as massive pricks do. It was hard for the cop not to look, not to keep his jaw open in amazement, and not to drool, as Raimundo’s handsome body disappeared replaced by a conscious self-moving cock.

“Almost… there,” whispered the doctor, as the readings showed Raimundo’s consciousness almost totally subdued inside his leftover member—the manliest of them all. His thick arms had vanished, his majestic legs were a thing of the past; even Raimundo’s torso had melted away, but his mind’s new connections to his rod were only still forming.

Raimundo, now residing inside only his 31-centimeter-long member, tried to turn around—his cock rolled a bit to the side. He tried to grunt, and his slit gaped. He tried to move his arms—his balls contracted and his fatness moved up and down. Ramundo then tried to scream, but all that happened was a fat, thick blob of pre leaving his slit and drooling down his shaft. The majestic rod was rolling around inside the machine, trying and failing to resist the process.

“Just a little more and the neural connection will be complete,” whispered the doctor, changing the focus of the machine as he himself sweated nervously. A surge of pleasure filled Raimundo, as forcing a cock to orgasm was the best way to subdue it, and make the neutral connections final. Raimundo tried to resist the heat, and the tentacle-like appendage that the machine produced and which grabbed him, and handled him harshly like the dick he was—he didn’t like being forced to cum, he was the one who did it to others. But not anymore, now he was just a conscious cock, and not a murderous jock.

His whole 31-centimeter-long body trembled, drooled and throbbed, trying to contain his seed; the tentacle, however, slid inside his slit as it squeezed his glans, making Raimundo shake. Raimundo tried to restrict his muscles, so his orgasm wouldn’t come, so the neutral connections would remain incomplete, and so he wouldn’t terminate his penile transformation with a humiliating ejaculation. Yet, he couldn’t hold—Raimundo was no longer a man, but a cock, and cocks ejaculate. He couldn’t help when the machine shot a wave of heat and the tentacle penetrated him. He tried to, and that’s why first his cock oozed only a shy drool of seed, but soon Raimundo lost control, and thick jets of spunk left his cocky body, as all of it trembled, productively releasing its cum. He tried to pant, to cry and to moan, as it was the biggest and most amazing orgasm of his whole life, but he couldn’t—Raimundo could only ejaculate more and more, throb, tremble and sweat, as he was but a cock now.

If he knew it was this good to be a cock, though, perhaps he wouldn’t have killed looking for excitement! Shooting, drowning in bliss, mas much better than killing and raping! But that didn’t matter now, what mattered was the shooting cum coating the insides of the machine and covering the tentacles in spunk, as the doctor, the nurse and the two officers watched. Seeing the orgasmic manhood trembling and ejaculating made the nurse explode in a silent grunt, as his underwear got soaked with cum. The guard, though, had already orgasmed, and had to grab his mate’s shoulder not to fall to the ground in extasy and confusion.

At the end of it all, all the four men were panting, even the two who managed to control themselves better, due to not being gay. The fifth man—the cock—was not panting, but drooling leftover cum and nearing dehydration, which is arguably worse.

“He is done,” said the sweating doctor, after two hours of remote surgery, hard in his trousers as any man after such an important task. “You can go and grab his body, but try not to squeeze it too much, as it is sensitive. Take him to his penile colony and attach him there, but first feed him some milk, he is probably dehydrated after ejaculating so much,” ordered the man, and the nurse nodded, as it went inside the room to retrieve penified Raimundo from the machine. The guards followed him inside, as the rules said, but there was little need for escorting the inmate anymore—he was now harmless, except perhaps to a tight but overly eager hole… well, perhaps it was good to protect the nurse from himself, then.

Raimundo woke up, as usual, in the early morning, completely hard. He was the longest and thickest of the inmates kept by his officer, a handsome and burly man who was now hosting 57 inmates on his body. Raimundo, hard and throbbing as he oozed his liquids, counted himself lucky—he had been attached to the man’s right pec, and as he slept on his back, that meant he had plenty of space on which to stretch and tremble and slap and bob during sleep, which wasn’t the case for some of the other inmates, such as the ones attached to the guard’s legs or back. Besides, Raimundo was also a bit of the boss of the chest area, as the other inmates around were significantly smaller—between 14 and 27 centimeters, most of them—and so he could beat them up when they fought. Of course, communication between them was limited, but yet, it was enough to know that he ruled.

The truth, though, was that spending day in and day out as a penis was an experience which liberated you from your worldly concerns—soon your neighbors weren’t rivals, but cocks against which you could rub for mutual pleasure; similarly, soon your guard was no longer watching you, but he was the body to which you were attached to, and so, in a way, belonged. Concerns about food and drink disappeared, replaced only for a constant need of relief—and by that one means, of course, sexual relief. In this field Raimundo was lucky, though; being big and juicy meant that the guard’s assistants like to take care of him more and for a longer time than average—and the guard himself did it sometimes, calling Raimundo his “favorite inmate” and “my preferred cock.” That caused some jealousy in others, of course, but who cares? Raimundo was the king of his prison, standing proud and demanding attention as he slapped his guard’s face, bobbing up and down.

“You are getting very fucking entitled, lad,” said the guard sitting up, grabbing what to him was just the biggest of the 57 inmates he was responsible for. He squeezed and started beating Raimundo, but that they both knew was no punishment—these inmates lived for that sort of thing, and in fact as Raimundo was squeezed he melted and drooled pre, loving the action. The guard hummed, feeling the pleasure cross his body too, and all 57 inmates plus his own cock got hard at once.

“Fuck, I need help!” he shouted, and soon three assistants arrived, each swallowing an inmate, and stroking other two. Raimundo was being jacked up and down by the guard, so he wasn’t swallowed that morning, but he didn’t mind as his whole body was amazingly squeezed, up and down, and his head was licked but the guard, cleaning his glistening juices.

After some time, the inmates started shooting, as they did every morning, allowing the excellent assistants to help all of them and drink their milk. Only the guard focused solely on Raimundo, spending a half an hour and then an hour jacking him, faster, and then more slowly; kissing him, then pulling away; swallowing him, then slapping his body on his face, so he stayed ever-hard. He made Raimundo edge, providing all his touches, until almost all other inmates were taken care of, and only then did he slide his tongue around Raimundo’s cockhead—drilling it, polishing it under his foreskin, until the conscious cock trembled and shot.

Raimundo shoot abundant amounts of cum, delivering all it inside the guard’s mouth as he swallowed and swallowed. He trembled and throbbed, his whole body ejaculating and electrified, as it also sweated, hot as usual. Soon Raimundo stopped orgasming and was simply drooling, and the guard comfortably slurped Raimundo’s seed and then let him fall on his chest, tired, softening, covered in spit and oozing some leftover cum.

Raimundo laid like that happy, satisfied for now, he could relax—and heck did he want to, after being deliciously beaten to release his milk like that!

Raimundo sometimes dreamed of penetrating someone. Not so much as a human, anymore, but as the cock he had become. He was a cock, now, after all, and that thought crossed his mind when the guard was working out, making him stand up and slap the guard’s face.

“Ehh, not now. I’ll have to tie you down,” complained the hard-working guard. Even as other cocks could harden, they didn’t slap his face, so he just let them hang and bob up and down without any issues. Raimundo was different though—when he hardened he slapped the guard right on the lips—and so the guard had to constrain him in a sort of tight sports shirt, alongside a good twenty other inmates who always got pissed at Raimundo for causing them to be covered.

Being covered was in a sense annoying—Raimundo couldn’t tremble and bob up and down anymore, as it restricted his movement; he could, however, throb and drool, and feeling the guard’s muscle and the tight shirt against his 31-centimeter-long hard body felt quite nice, if one is honest. It even made him drool, and drool sticky milk, which ran down the guard’s handsome chest muscles.

After the work out, the handsome guard went for a meal, and then he undressed again for a sunbathe. Hundreds of guards left the prison together, and went to walk in the gardens, or swim at the lake, their penile inmates trembled as they bathed in the sun deliciously, or could simply feel the breeze of the wind or the coldness of the water. Some guards, to tease their inmates, also, did things such as hug trees, lay on the sand or grass and roll around, or even hug one another—those were sure to distract the penified people and disrupt them. They only did it when they thought their inmates deserved, though, which of course guaranteed very good behavior on average.

Raimundo, though, was being a naughty hungry cock these days, and when his guard hugged another one, he stood up like a brat and slapped him on the face! A wet, fat, thick, incredibly long inmate cock rubbing against another guard’s face without any permission to do so was strictly against the rules—after all, they were inmates, not real cocks! The drooling on the guard’s handsome face added insult to injury—it was as if Raimundo had been saying he could do whatever he wanted to him, even slide between his lips, if he wanted to. It was a threat and a breach of hierarchy, and it is also simply not how things worked in jail.

“Sorry, I’ll take care of this one,” said the guard who kept custody of Raimundo to the other, who nodded.

“No problem, that’s a big bad boy you have there. You should put him in your armpits, so he stops thinking so highly of himself; or in the solitary, so he learns none of them cocks are better than anyone else,” suggested the other guard, but Raimundo’s keeper shakes his head. He already has an idea as to what to do.

Raimundo was picked up from the chest, and replaced with a nice and plump dark 29-centimeter cock. That made him tremble with fear—he always thought his thickness and size protected him, as that he’d always be desired by the security personnel, which gave him an extra status with the other inmates. However, as being penified became a more common sentence, more and more majestic cocks were available to the guards every day and perhaps he had indeed become replaceable—after all, soon many hundreds of penified criminals could well be his size or larger.

In truth, Raimundo needn’t have worried about that, as a thick and purple 31-centimeter-long human cock always would get plenty of attention, but he was right about one thing—he was now less needed and valuable to the guards. His guard, for example, could suck an equally hot and almost as long brown cock and send him to solitary confinement for a few days, which is what he had done, precisely.

Raimundo was the pulled and detached from the guard where he lived, and thrown in a box, alone as a cock. Having basically no experience as a fully detached cock, Raimundo had trouble snaking and moving his massive shaft as well as his heavy balls as a fully independent limb. He had more luck hardening and slapping the side of the box for attention, which soon arrived in the form of the original nurse penification opening his box.

“Look who we have here, if it isn’t the heatless murderer Raimundo Santos? Apparently, those guards finally got tired of your size and decided to give you some time out, huh? Lucky me…” said the nurse, as if Raimundo was but a nice surprise inside the box of a Christmas present. “You’re hungry? If so, throb once. If you are just horny throb twice. If both, three times,” he continued, and Raimundo throbbed three times. The nurse laughed.

“Typical, you act like you are in a five-star hotel just because of your size and… hmmm… smell, heh. Well, not while you are under my care,” said the nurse, smelling Raimundo and squeezing him. Raimundo tried to tremble to show his discomfort, but he couldn’t. Even when the nurse picked him up, held him by the base, and swayed him slapping his own palm with Raimundo, making him dizzy, the criminal just couldn’t react.

The nurse then turned and laid a stunned Raimundo down on a cold table, while he got a syringe and filled it with milk.

“You see, while you are attached to someone, your host’s body will feed you, but in your current state I need to do that myself or after a few orgasms you’ll dehydrate and die… and we don’t want that, do we? Of course not, you are too big to die,” says the nurse with a smile, letting some of the milk squirt out of the syringe. “Now come here, I’ll feed you some milk,” completes the nurse, manhandling Raimundo’s thickness, forcing his foreskin down—he felt invaded—and then opening his slit with the syringe, which soon sent milk down Raimundo’s urethra, which he was forced to swallow. Raimundo was surprised by how cold, but also delicious, the milk was, and he drank all of it wonderfully. Soon he was happy and trembling, and the nurse laughed, slapping him.

“You cocks are easy to please, huh? Much easier than full-bodied men,” he commented and laughed. He attached Raimundo to his own hand and swallowed him, drooling as Raimundo eaas shocked by the speed with which his body was forced down the nurse’s throat, and then out, and then back in. The nurse’s other hand was stroking his human member, which soon shot over the table until his hot seed splashed abundantly on the wall. Raimundo, on the other hand, was quickly throbbing hard, and it didn’t take him long to shoot either. He got so tired he had to be fed again, before the nurse put him away to sleep, and went play with another prisoner.

“I have read your files, you are a much better cock than you were a man, honestly. You would be lucky if you stayed like this for the rest of your life,” commented the nurse before closing the lid, leaving Raimundo in the dark where he slowly drifted to sleep.

“I think so too, sometimes,” he thought to himself, before his penile body slapped the floor in sleep, trembling to get hard a few hours later, and having a night-orgasm as Raimundo dreamed of penetrating the nurse’s other hole. Hopefully tomorrow.

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