This is the third of a three part story and completes my first submission to Nifty. Many of you have written to tell me you've enjoyed it. It took me more than a couple of hours to put together and I am surprised how much pleasure it has given me to read your appreciation, so thanks for reaching out. Those of you who have enjoyed, but not yet commented, please do so as I'm trying kick start my imagination for another submission soon--ptrtrip@yahoo.com
Also, I've just made my first donation to Nifty. If this site has given you even a small amount of pleasure, why not kick in the cost of a lunch to help keep it going?
Fully Trained Part 3:
In spite of how hot our times together had been, the reality of "life" soon comes slamming back. There is laundry to do, job to turn up to, sleep to enjoy. After these first two times together, I'd sneak off for a private sauna the next day and then dive back into my daily routine. Midweek, I'd turned my phone off to see a late afternoon film after work with a coworker straight from the office. After, we decided to get a couple of beers and a cheap Thai, so I didn't bother checking my phone until we'd said goodbye around 11 and I was heading home on the train. Oh, shit, there were three texts from Sir. The first was, "Come round at 6 tonight" sent at 4pm. The next was, "WTF? Where are you?" sent at 615. The final one was, "Your silence and insolence are inexcusable. I expect to see you tomorrow at 6am, in front of the garage. Text me, at exactly 6am."
I was exhausted and a bit drunk when I got home at about 1130. I took my suit off, drank a liter of water, set my cell alarm and an old radio alarm for 515, terrified I would not wake up. Of course, my fear of the consequences of my fuck up kept me awake until about 130 or 2.
After what seemed like 5 minutes of sleep, the alarms started sounding. I leapt out of bed, made some coffee, pee'd, shaved, drank the coffee, 2 minutes in the shower, dried my Prince Albert carefully, dressed, and out the door walking briskly to Sir's in the pre-dawn darkness. It was bitterly cold and even worse, I'd forgotten a hat that my short stubbled head desperately needed.
Arriving opposite Sir's garage with about 10 minutes to spare, I paused about a block away not daring to call a minute too early. I rubbed my hands, stomped my feet, trying to look inconspicuous on the silent early morning street. One minute before six, I walked directly opposite Sir's garage, looked at the silent house, and took out my phone, texted, "Sir, arrived, Sir."
The door rose and I entered, as normal, and walked to our meeting room. I stood directly in front of him.
He put the collar on my neck. "Take off your shoes, socks, trousers and underwear, but leave your shirt on."
"Boy, after starting so well, you've really disappointed me. Until last night I really thought we had a connection. You've performed so well up to now and exceeded my expectations. I cannot understand why you would ignore my instructions." I did not know if it would be insolent to reply, so I remained silent. "Have you nothing to say for yourself, Boy?"
"Sir, I was not expecting midweek contact. I was at the cinema, had my phone off, went to dinner with a friend....Sir, there is no excuse, Sir."
Sir left the silence unbroken for a minute. "So, are you telling me when you are not in my presence, not in this room, you are not mine? Is our time together just some act, some distraction?" "Sir, No Sir, I think of Sir day and night."
Sir thought for a few seconds. "Clearly not. I suspect you were in bed pleasuring yourself last night.
You actually look rather hung over. Come over here." He pointed to the wall. "Put your toes against the wall." I did so. "Put your nose against the wall." I did so. Sir took a cane and hung it from my nose pressed against the wall. "Do not let that cane slip, or you will regret it. Where is your phone?"
"Sir, left back pocket of my jeans, Sir."
Sir took it out, "What is the code?" I gave him the four digit code. After a few seconds I heard Sir select a ringtone. "Okay, Boy, to help remind you that I am not to be ignored, and that when I call, text, or otherwise summon you, you are to respond instantly, I've programmed my number under Sir with a photo of your Sir's sweet whip. Hopefully that will grab your attention when the phone buzzes on the conference table at work." Sir then left the room for about 5 minutes. When he returned he had some sort of package, but with my eyes pinned straight at the wall so as not let the cane slip from my nose, I couldn't see much from my peripheral vision. "Keep that cane up there, but move your feet away from the wall about a foot's length."
"Yes, that looks healed enough," Sir said after closely inspecting my penis and the barbell through the piercing. Sir picked up the cane. "Step back. Now, I want you to look very carefully at this device. Your piercing is not a nice little piece of jewelry to show off to your friends at the sauna you were most likely at last night." Before I could deny that I was even at a sauna, Sir swiped my ass with the cane he'd taken from my nose. "Not a word....Your dick has been pierced for a purpose. From today on, you are going to wear this chastity device, held in place by your now healed PA piercing. The only time you will be out of this cuff is when you are in my presence, when you are unable to touch yourself, and when Sir feels like edging you and maybe, rarely, only then may I grant you an emission by my hand alone. Do you understand?"
Gulp, looking straight ahead, I replied, "Sir, yes Sir."
Sir took out the bar in my penis. He tugged a bit to stretch my flacid dick. He then placed a slightly curved metal sleeve / tube around the length of my penis. Next, he picked up a curved metal pin pushing it through the PA opening. Two holes in bottom of the sleeve (the part of the sleeve closest to the Prince Albert piercing) attached to the pin and on the outside of one of them was a very small lock that held the pin firmly in place. This design was 100% escape proof due to the PA and lock. At the same time, it would allow me to pee and to wash. Sir looked up at me (probably the first and last time I'd be looking down a him starring at my dick), and asked, "That hurt? Nothing being stretched or torn?"
"Sir, no, Sir. Sir, feels fine, Sir."
Sir took the key and locked the sleeve in place. He then very pointedly placed the key on his key chain. "It's going to take you a few days to realize how much this thing is going to change your life. In the meantime, you need a lesson. Give me your wrists." Sir quickly attached and then tightened the leather wrist cuffs. He then pulled my hands behind my back and clipped the rings on both cuffs together. Next Sir clipped a short section of thick metal chain to the clip holding the leather wrist cuffs together behind my back. The other section of chain clipped to an "O" ring that was part of the leather collar already in place around my neck. I was pretty tightly bound with both my cuffed hands pressed against my back just below my shoulder blades while at the other end, my leather collar was tight against my throat. This position forced me to stand up ramrod straight and kept my shoulders and arm muscles bulging.
"You're getting twelve of this cane. That's one stripe for every hour you've kept me waiting since last night. You are to count them off. Understand, Boy?"
"Sir, yes Sir."
To steady me and keep me stablized during this punishment, Sir pushed my front against the wall. With his left hand, he grabbed the tail of my shirt, twisted it around tightly into a ball in his fist, and pushed it against my lower back to keep me perfectly in place. Sir's right hand was rubbing the cane gently around my two buttocks in a circular motion. He tapped gently a few times as if aiming, then a few more circles.
"Start the count, boy."
"Sir, one, Sir."
The mild discomfort of my tightly restrained shoulders, arms and neck evaporated about 5 seconds after the first strike. The exhaustion and hangover I was experiencing also left the room. Sir started rubbing and tapping awaiting my second count. I think at least a minute went by before I gulped and called out, "Sir, two, Sir." After about another minute to recover, I counted off the 3rd stroke. Absolute agony. At this point I took the decision to "power through" the next strokes to get them out of the way. At the rate I had been going I was simply dragging out the pain, and really, could it get any more painful? I quickly counted off strokes four, five, six and seven. That was it, I couldn't call out another. For the first time since I'd entered this room, I seriously thought of calling it all off. I was panting hard. Sir put the cane on table. He took a cloth and wiped the sweat off my forehead and brought a water bottle to my lips.
"Had enough, boy? Just say the word and I can undo you. No hard feelings."
I closed my eyes and thought to myself, "Fuck, why not? What the hell am I doing tied up in a dungeon having my ass torn up by this sadist? What is wrong with me? You want this?" Slowly, opening my eyes I turned towards Sir, "Sir, no, Sir. Sir, let's continue, Sir."
Sir smiled, "You sure, boy?"
"Sir, yes, Sir."
"I am impressed. Very well," and Sir picked up the cane. Grabbing the tail of my shirt, he put his mouth two inches from my ear and whispered, "Pain is pleasure for boys like you. Trust Sir. You will find peace embracing your real nature." He stepped back, tapped my buttocks lightly and soon I half shouted, "Sir, eight, Sir." Sir didn't let up a bit, but strangely nine, ten, eleven, and twelve came in a steady blur.
After the 12th stroke, Sir released my shirt, placee the cane on the table and said nothing. For at least a minute I did not move. Sir walked over to me and silently detached the chain holding my cuffed wrists high behind my back which caused them to drop to just above my flaming ass. Next he undid the clip holding the cuffs together. I stretched my arms over my head. Continuing in silence, Sir handed me the towel and water bottle. I dried myself, got dressed, and turned to Sir. He put his finger to his lips indicating silence and pointed to the door. I left.
Arriving at the office at 730, my ass burning with a dozen new stripes, my dick pulsing against the chastity sleeve, I quickly ducked into the bathroom to relieve myself before heading to my floor. I peed, washed my hands, splashed a lot of cold water on my face and head (very useful not having more than a couple week's stubble for a quick clean up). Nothing, and I mean nothing, could faze or upset me today. I became an efficient machine concentrating solely on work for the next 8 hours. When I returned home that evening I would make sense of it all.
................................
As soon as I returned home that night, I tore off my clothes and examined my thrashed ass and newly imprisoned dick. 12 blue / black lines, nearly parallel, extended from the top of my buttocks to the top of my legs. "How long is that going to take to heal" I wondered? However, I've been caned and whipped before and knew it would heal soon enough. This chastity device was certainly a new sensation. I could move and adjust my dick a bit, but that curved sleeve was held pretty firmly in place by the Prince Albert attached locked ring. I was well and truly imprisoned. The curve in the tube's design prevented me from getting more than slightly hard. It wasn't uncomfortable at all, but I wondered what would I have to do to be freed? Sir had held out hope that I could earn some relief. Surly after today's beating I'd earned some sort of release?
Being locked in this way made me realize that I needed to re-direct my sexual skills to anal and oral service. If I can pull that off to Sir's satisfaction, I'm sure I will be rewarded with release. Carrot and Stick, so to speak.
Due to the very short night of sleep the previous night, and the ordeal of this morning, I was soon in bed. I woke a few times, my dick straining painfully at the sleeve, but soon I'd calm down and sleep again. In the days that followed, it was strange how quickly my body adjusted to the stripes on my ass and upper legs and the chastity sleeve on my dick. I'd go hours without even thinking of sex, and then something would set my horny mind going and I could feel the dick pressing painfully against the sleeve. At home, I'd sometimes stare at it in the mirror and ask myself, "When is Sir going to let me out? What will I have to do? What can I do in the meantime for release?" I knew this; I was going to service Sir's cock better than ever, find out what really got him going. I was also going to get that hard dick in my ass as often, deep, and rough as possible. Anything to take my mind off my useless dick, now hopelessly unable to grow in its confined metal cage.
Work was busy for a few days, but nevertheless I could not help looking at my phone every hour or so, awaiting the next contact from Sir. Why no message? Was he angry? What was that silence about after our last time together? Was my phone working? Do I contact him? After slipping up by missing his messages mid-week last week, I was not going to disappoint him again. I considered contacting him, but reasoned that would be impertinent and insubordinate. Sir had my number. About a week later my phone chirped, I pulled it out and there was photo of Sir's single tail whip with his text message. "Get your hair trimmed at lunch time and come directly to my place after work. Text and wait for garage to open."
That afternoon, I left for lunch, went directly to barber's. There was one guy in the chair and one guy in front of me. I felt pretty ridiculous sitting there with my extremely short cut, waiting. "Next," barber called out and I settled in the chair. "Number one like last time, or do you want me to shave it to the bone?" "Number one, like last time." Not three minutes later, he was finished. Barber looked me straight in the eye as I paid, and said, "Tell your Sir I am pleased he's done so well finding you. See you in two weeks."
Hours later, I am naked, cuffed, freshly shorn, gagged, bound to the A frame. Sir is slowly, but intensively tanning my ass and back with his whips, floggers, straps and a cane. Today I've got a leather bar gag stuffed in my mouth with two straps pulled back to a silver rings near my ears and then two more leather straps holding it in place by leather straps crossing the back and top of my sheared skull. Just as the beating gets close to too intense, Sir backs off allowing me to recompose myself. I cannot really tell if I've been here for five minutes or five hours.
At some point I no longer really feel the blows. There is just a general intense throbbing heat coming off my ass and back. It feels so delicious. Finally, Sir put the whip down and whispers in my ear, "Nice work, boy. There is nothing that gets me hotter than turning your body into a hot, throbbing, sweating work of art." Still cuffed and tied to the whipping frame, Sir unlocks and removes my chastity device.
My dick feels cold without the steel it has grown used to. I immediately become erect. Sir takes the gag out of my mouth and lets it hand around my neck. "Spit into my hand." He then rubs my spit around the shaft of my penis, and then returns his hand to my lips, "More," and I spit more again. He then starts stroking me from head to shaft. Just as I'm about to cum, he stops. My penis softens. Sir starts up again and edges me for about 10 minutes before he takes me over the line and I explode with a weeks worth of backed up jiz. Sir takes my cum and rubs it around my skull. "Nice work, boy. Very nice. I'm so glad you didn't walk away last week. You've crossed the threshold and earned your place as Sir's fully trained sub."
I cannot describe how satisfied I am knowing that Sir controls my body and mind, completely and without reservation or hesitation. I am no longer driven by my desires. My erotic soul is programed and shaped by this relentlessly kinky Sir.