Photo Strip
Chapter 11 Return to Work
David had offered to help look after my flat, and the next day, Wednesday, he arrived about mid-morning, and we made arrangements. David would move in, rent free, and deal with all the finances and maintenance connected with it.
There was only one bedroom, with a king size bed in it, but I explained I would be away on PhotoStrip business more often than not. David went into the bedroom, bounced around on it a bit, and pronounced it had passed his comfort test. "For the few nights you're back home, you'll just have to climb in with me!" he offered, generously. "That's OK by me!" I agreed. "By the way, I'd better warn you in case you come in late, I sleep in the nude!" "Neither of us will be embarrassed, then," I replied. "So do I!"
After lunch, David left to collect his stuff to move into my flat, and then went to spend the last night at his lodgings.
After contacting my close family, telling them I would likely be incommunicado for long periods, and suggesting they put their trust in David to contact me, I broke open a good bottle of wine, put my feet up in front of the telly, and relaxed.
Wednesday came, and down the side alley off the High Street, I rang the bell of the studios at exactly 10 am as instructed. Clive opened it, and let me in.
"Well done!" he congratulated. "Jane tells me you passed with flying colours!" He showed me in to the office, where Jane was sitting at her desk. Jane motioned me to sit down. "Now that you are on the full time payroll, you will notice some changes. Photo Strip is expanding, and we have set up a special training department for newly appointed core staff, called 'Body Optimisation and Control'" she explained.
My heart sank. Core staff. So David was right. Jane continued. "The department is staffed and equipped to train one person at a time, but will continue to control all staff it has trained. You will be their first trainee, and I can tell you, the training is intensive and will last at least one month, during which time you will be required to remain on these premises twenty four hours a day, for monitoring and control purposes."
"What about the photo assignments?" I asked. "Clive and I arrange that programme. Irene, our Training Manager, has the franchise to supply core staff for the assignments as we require them. When core staff are not required for photo shoots, they are under rigorous training pretty nearly around the clock by Irene and her assistant. Effectively, she is your boss. Our contract with her allows her to so book you on jobs other than photo shoots, for which she takes the fee," said Jane. "We pay her for your time on the photo shoots, in the same way. She and her assistant are required to cover the costs of their own salaries from renting you out."
"What sort of other functions?" I asked. "I haven't any idea, but Irene has a fertile mind. No doubt she will keep you busy, and herself in pocket," smiled Jane. "Also, at the end of the training you should have a physically enhanced body in terms of appearance and capabilities. Now follow me, I'll take you to her office suite."
I followed Jane along the corridor, and we entered Irene's office. Her eyes were agog at seeing who her trainee was. "Irene, I'd like you to meet your first trainee, Ian," she said. Irene gave nothing away, but stood up and politely shook hands. "He' all yours, then," said Jane, and departed.
"You! You nasty little prick!" she hissed. "I thought we'd said goodbye the other day. Now I've got to put up with you every bloody day. I'll make you regret crossing me," she said viciously. "But I shall turn my chore into a pleasure, believe me!" She pressed a button on her desk, an inner door opened, and her assistant walked in. Harold!
"Rule One in the studio. When Harold or I give the order 'Strip off!' you strip. You strip immediately, completely, and as fast as you can. Fail to do so and you will be sent to the Punishment Room." Almost before that had sunk in, Irene shouted "Strip off!"
I could see that she was going to make up for all her hurt over our break up by taking it out on me. And what chance did I have against the contract I had just signed?
I quickly stripped all my clothes off, and dropped them on the floor. Harold quickly scooped them up and carted them off I know not where. Irene looked me over, carefully. She had seen me nude before, but somehow I felt embarrassed and humiliated now, with my alienated ex-girl friend in a position of such physical authority over me.
"The second rule of the studio, is that you will wear exactly what you are told to wear at all times. If you are given the order to strip, you remain stripped whatever duties you may have to go about, until the order is rescinded. Understood?" I nodded, meekly. "Good! The only clothes you will get to wear in the studio will be these," Irene continued, holding up a pair of shorts, a T-shirt, a pair of short white socks, and a pair of trainers. "Get them on, now!"
She passed me the outfit, which I put on. I found the shorts were made of very soft comfortable cotton material. The gusset was no more than an inch wide, and the legs were cut very large, enough to get two legs in each side.
They were cut very short at the back and even shorter at the sides, exposing the lower half of my buttocks. They were barely long enough at the front to completely cover my prick, with the consequence the head peeked out from time to time as I moved about. Sitting down would be positively revealing.
"Yes," said Irene, admiring them. She approached me. "Very fetching. And they make it so easy for anyone to put their hands up the legs," she added, slipping her hand in and briefly squeezing my balls viciously.
I put the footwear and T-shirt on, which were a normal fit. "Rule 1a," continued Irene. "When you are ordered 'Strip down' as opposed to 'Strip off', you remove your T-shirt and shorts, but leave your socks and trainers on." I wondered why there was such a generous provision in the rules. Irene was about to tell me. "This will be the normal order if we require you to expose your body whilst out of doors, or doing physical work in the studio, which needs foot protection."
Harold returned, minus my own clothes. "Strip off!" he said, and I slipped out of the trainers, T-shirt and shorts, handing them to him. "Very good!" he said. He started examining my pubic area quite closely, and then ran his fingers through the rapidly growing hair on my balls and lower abdomen. I flinched as he did so. "Get used to it, Ian. As one of your trainer/controllers I can touch you wherever and whenever I like, for however long I like, in any position I like. Just as you thought, Irene," he continued, turning to her, "he'll need a haircut before the Dog Story second shoot, for continuity. Otherwise the time difference will be obvious." "I see what you mean," she agreed, fingering my balls, "I'll see what I can arrange in that direction," she replied.
Harold returned the outfit to me. "You may put them back on!" he said.
"Rule Three!" said Irene. "Whenever you remove your shorts and your penis is not erect, you must say these words to whoever commanded you o remove them: 'Make me hard, please!' and then stand with your legs apart and hands on your heads for whoever it is to do the business." "It's part of your Physical Optimisation programme," Harold explained.
"Strip off!" commanded Irene. I stripped again, put my hands on my head and spread my legs. "Make me hard, please!" I asked.
Irene fondled my genitals until I had a hard-on that met her requirements. "At ease!" she ordered, and I stood naturally.
"Clothes back on!" ordered Harold. I climbed into them, and noticed that the shorts were designed to ensure that an erection could not be disguised. Even more so at this moment, as Harold re-arranged one of the leg holes of the shorts over the top of my prick, so that although I was wearing the shorts, my hard prick stood to attention for all to see.
"Rule Four," said Harold, stroking me a little. "At the appointed times, you will report to the Physical Optimisation Room." "Physical optimisation?" I asked. "What's that mean?" "It's an intensive training course designed to increase your sexual abilities," Harold replied.
"Rule Five," continued Irene. "During the training period, on no account shall you make yourself come, nor, without permission from Harold or myself, shall you be made to come without Harold or myself watching the ejaculation.
That means no oral, anal, or vaginal ejaculations, only manual, administered by hands other than your own, and in our presence."
"Rule Six," she continued. "On being sent to the Punishment Room, before entering, you strip down, strap on leather neckband, anklets and wristbands, and leave your clothes on the peg outside the door."
"Now for your physical optimisation times for the next few days," said Harold, referring to his clipboard. "Today, your inaugural session will be at 7.00 pm. Tomorrow, we'll move up to two sessions, at 8.00 am, and 8.00 pm. Similarly Friday and Saturday, but Friday may vary due to the Dog Story Photo Shoot."
"Report to the Punishment Room, immediately!" snapped Irene. "Eh? What have I done now?" I asked. "Nothing!" sneered Irene. "It's time I made you suffer. I want you naked and at my mercy." With that, she promptly departed through the door from which Harold had emerged.
Harold led me to the door, and pointed down the corridor beyond. "It's down there on the left, marked 'Punishment Room'" he said.
I walked down the corridor, and when I got to the door I took my clothes off and hung them on a hook. I took the set of straps from the hook, and affixed them to myself. I opened the door and went in.
The lighting was very dim, and I faltered as I closed the door behind me. A spotlight came on, and before me stood Irene, wearing black leather waistcoat, undone, and black leather thigh boots. That's all. In her hand she held a riding crop. "Over there!" she commanded, prodding my genitals with the riding crop, and pointing to a stretch of wall with iron rings set in it at various heights.
As I walked over she swiped my bare arse with the crop. "Move!" she screamed at me. She hooked my restraints on to four suitable rings, spreading me out with my back to the wall. She flipped a switch, and suddenly I was in the spotlight, and she was in darkness.
She produced a very short leather strap, and buckled it around the shaft of my prick just under the rim of my glans. Then she tied a short length of twine to it, and affixed the other end to the band around my neck, holding my prick upright. She stroked it a little to bring my slightly subsiding hard on back to its full glory, and then tightened the twine taut. She then affixed a similar band around the base of my cock, and finally, she tied another short length of twine around the lower band, and hooked a brass weight onto the other end of the twine. My prick was this being pulled in both directions. Irene started the weight moving in a pendulum fashion, and released me from the wall.
"Back to the office!" she commanded, catching me across the arse again with her riding crop, the weight pulling uncomfortably as I moved. I stopped outside the door, and took my clothes off the peg. "Leave them there, fool!" she hissed. "How can you get shorts on when you've got a weight dangling from your prick? That weight may only be removed in the Punishment Room."
She made me walk down the corridor nude except for my socks and trainers, occasionally stooping to give the weight another swing, occasionally catching my arse a blow with the crop..
We came to a room labelled simply 'Food'. Harold was already inside, scoffing his lunch
We sat down at the table, and a waiter brought us a lunch of prawn salad, with a glass of rose wine. It went down well, despite my nakedness and the contraption attached to my genitals. "You will be well fed here," explained Harold. "If you're to be in peak physical condition, good diet is essential."
"Back to the Punishment Room!" ordered Irene. By now my hard on had subsided, but my prick was kept stretched by the weight and the twine. It was beginning to get quite excruciating.
I was fastened to the wall again, and Harold, accompanying Irene this time, restored my hard on. Irene removed the weight and cock strap. "Fancy a lick, Harold?" she offered him, waving towards my prick. "I've always fancied fucking this one!" replied Harold, but settling for a lick. "All in good time!" Irene smiled, "but not today!"
It was mid-afternoon b y the time the pair of them had finished tormenting me, by keeping me hard with licking and stroking, then frog marching me round the room and swiping me with the riding crop, and finally clamping me face down bent double over a bench, whilst Irene administered some hefty swipes with a paddle.
Suddenly, she lost interest "You're free to go. Harold will show you your quarters. Be outside the Physical Optimisation Room at seven, sharp!"
Harold opened the door, allowed me to put on my T-shirt and shorts, and led me to a room marked 'Recovery
In it were four king sized beds, each watched over by a closed circuit TV camera. At one end was a door marked 'Bathroom." Harold pointed to one of the beds. "That's yours!" he said. "Strip off!" I obediently stripped everything off, and handed Harold my clothes. "Make me hard, please!" I begged, putting my hands on my head and standing with legs wide apart. "On the bed, pronto!" Harold ordered. I lay down on the bed, and watched Harold strip. He lay down beside me and started fondling me all over, rubbing up against me, and soon I had a raging hard on, and feeling his hot cock against my body, I could tell that he had, too. "Lie on your back and grab hold of your feet!" he said. "I'm coming in!"
Just at that moment Irene walked in and saved me from being ravished. "I told you, later, Harold. Just get off him!" Reluctantly and somewhat sulkily, Harold got off the bed, and dressed again. "You may now rest until Physical Optimisation time," said Irene, and the pair left the room.
At six thirty I was roughly awakened by Harold, who instructed me to have a shower. "No touching your genitals," he reminded me. "How am I going to wash myself and have a piss?" I asked, sarcastically. "You're not. I'll be doing those bits for you."
Harold followed me into the shower area, held my prick and pointed it in the right direction as I pissed into one of the urinals, and then stripped and got into the shower with me. He soaped me all over, taking particular care over my arse, carefully cleaning deep into the crack. He had a fine body, and raised no objection to my fondling him as he worked on me.
Finally we got out, and he towelled me dry. "Now report to Irene in the Physical Optimisation Room. But get dressed first."
I put my clothes on, and walked up the corridor until I found the door marked Physical Optimisation. It was five to seven. I knocked on the door and waited, wondering what was ahead of me ....
To be continued .....