Date: Sat, 22 Jun 2002 17:41:12 +0000
From: Nake Body <nakebody@hotmail.com>
Subject: Photo Strip Chapter 11

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 .....