Date: Sun, 19 Sep 2004 07:48:45 +0000
From: kitty h <kittyha56@hotmail.com>
Subject: training-the prof-13

TRAINING THE PROF

Thanks for your many comments.  Feel free to send more to
kittyh55@hotmail.com with `Harte' in the message head.


Part 13

It was a chastened Julian that returned to his house.  His arse stung from
the twelve punishment strokes she had administered and his cunt was
sore from Heather's brutal invasion, yet he was hard and at last his cock
was free of the cage of correction.

There was an email from Maria waiting for him..
	"Yes, Heather knows you are a cunt-hole, but never forget I own
	you.  You will obey only me or those I designate.  I trust that is
	clear, wimp.
	   Your trousers are far too butch for a sissy.  I shall pick you up
	at 4 from your office so we can go and buy you some pansy
	slacks.  Make sure you are wearing a clean thong.
	   You will return with me to perform the tasks you failed to do
	today."

Julian's cock oozed pre-cum, but he didn't dare trouble Miss with a
request to wank off.  He slept fitfully that night, waking twice under the
misapprehension that she was in his room.

In the morning he went for a piss and without realising it until he had
done it he sat to wee as he had had to do when in the cage.  even such
mundane tasks as taking a piss had become a record of her dominance.
He changed into a tight black thong and went into work.

She arrived promptly at four, carrying her ubiquitous bag.
	`How is your arse, wimp' she enquired as she slipped her hand
inside his open flies and felt his stiffening cock.
	`Sore and marked, Miss' he replied.
	`Yes it would be, but then you deserved your caning didn't you?'
	`Yes Miss, I did.'

She ordered him to do himself up and make himself respectable before
leading him out to the car park and his car.  She directed him to Mrs
Bowen's establishment.  The very sight of her shop made Julian cringe,
but there was nothing he could do about it.  When they entered the
owner came over with a leer.
	`Brought him for some more clothes then dearie?'
	`Yes, a pair of sissy slacks.  Do you have any in his size?'
	`Might do.  Try over there' and she pointed to a rail at the side of
the shop.

Maria ran an inexperienced eye of the assembled garments before
pulling out a light blue pair of slacks and a black pair.
	`Go and try these on for size.'

As he moved to the dressing cubicle, two young girls walked in.  He
waited for as long as he dared, hoping the girls would have left, but
eventually he was forced to emerge.

Maria inspected him.  The blue pair was too loose.  She sent him back
to try on the black pair.  The girls who were going through the blouses
looked up at the strange sight then went back to their search.  Julian re-
emerged this time in the black pair of slacks.  They hugged his bum
nicely yet were shapeless at the front.
	`Yes, they will do nicely.  Go and pay for them now.'

He turned to change back into his trousers but she forestalled him, so he
was forced to go to the counter in his purchase and suffer the indignity
of having the price-tag snipped off by the grinning Mrs Bowen.  The
two girls by now were openly watching the strange scene.  One turned
to the other and whispered.  Her friend giggled.

	`I have some teddies that have just come in.  Would you like to
see them?' she asked Maria with a leer.
	`How kind.  Where are they?'
Mrs Bowen pointed to the rack next to the blouses.

As the two girls pretended to select a blouse, Julian was led over to the
adjacent rail and forced to look for a teddy in his own size.  The only
one he could find in his size was in a very dark pink.  In a loud voice
Maria ordered him to go and try it on for size, making sure the girls
heard every word..  Poor Julian was forced back to the cubicle
clutching the garment of shame in one hand, his slacks tenting before
him.

As Julian stripped to change into his new garment, Maria approached
the two girls.
	`Have you found anything nice?' she asked one of them whilst
casually letting her hand brush the other's bottom.  This time it was their
turn to blush and a moment or so later they left the shop.

Maria went across to the cubicle and pulled the curtain aside.  Julian
stood there just in his teddy, head lowered whilst she inspected the fit.
	`Good fit' she observed, squeezing his balls, `but the colour
doesn't suit you.'

	`Did you find what you want' Mrs Bowen asked Maria.
	`No.  Good fit, but wrong colour.'
	`What are you looking for?'
	`White or black.'
	`I'll look out for them and give you a ring if I find one.  What is
your number?'
	`You may as ring him direct' Maria responded, and much to
Julian's discomfiture she gave her his home number.

Back at the Maria's flat Julian carried out his menial tasks once again.
He was half-way through the washing-up when Heather came in.
	`Hi there' she called.  `How is yr bum-hole today?'
	`Sore Miss.'
	`I bet it is.'
	`And what is this you are wearing?' she asked as she ran a hand
over his bum.
	`Slacks.'
	`Nice and tight round the bum!  Suits you.'

At this point Maria emerged from her room.
	`Come here wimp.'
Julian dried his hands and went over.

She took him by the ear and led him into her room.
	`What the fuck were you doing letting Heather grope you?'
	`I'm sorry Miss.  I couldn't stop her.'
	`Too bad.  I told you last night, you belong to me!  Perhaps this
will help you remember who owns you.'

Once more he was over the end of the bed, his slacks pulled down, his
bum bare save for a sliver of material in his arse-crack from the thong.
Maria took a belt, doubled it up and spanked him hard a dozen times,
deliberately leaving the door open so Heather could hear.

When he re-emerged to complete his chores, Heather grinned at him.
	`What was that for' she asked.
	`Because you touched me up.'
	`Oh dear.  What a shame.  Looks like you are going to get more
then because I enjoy your bum and your bum-hole.'

It was a sore-bummed lecturer that went back to his tasks.

****

On Thursday Maria told him he would not be required that Friday.  She
failed to add the reason, Samantha was coming for the weekend.  She
didn't want the wimp cramping her style until she had opened the girl up
once more.  Anyway, this left Julian with a free evening for the first time
in a fortnight, at least that was what he thought.

He got home and poured himself a reviving dry sherry before changing
into his sissy slacks, another of Maria's sartorial rules for him.  Only
then did he logon and check his email.  There was a single message
waiting to be opened but it wasn't from Miss.  He didn't recognise the
sender's name, "The Master".  With trembling fingers he opened up the
email.  It read simply: "Hi, Big Boy, have a look at the pic.  If you want
to know more, wait in for our call.

Julian opened the attachment.  It was worse than he had feared.  It a
picture of him sucking off Andrew at the party, and his face was clearly
identifiable even though his mouth was full!  It was lewd, it was
disgusting, yet it made him hard.  And the scene of his humiliation came
flooding back to him.

He sat down with a bump, staring at the image on the PC.  It had to be
Roberts that sent it, surely.  What did he mean "wait for our call"?
What did the sharp-faced youngster want with him now?

Ten minutes later his house-phone rang.
	`Hello.'
	`Is that Dr Harte?'
	`Yes.  Whose speaking?'
	`It's Andrew here.'
Andrew!  Why is he ringing now wondered Julian.  He was to find out
soon enough.

	`I've been told to give you a message.  You know who wants you
round at his place at eight tonight.'
	`Do you mean John Roberts?'
	`I'm not allowed to say, but he said you would know who he was
from his email.'
	`Aaahh.'

There was an awkward pause.
	`Are you still there?' asked Andrew.
	`Yes.'
	`Can I tell him you are coming then?'
	`Yes.'
	`Thank you.  You don't know what this means to me.'
	`What do you mean?'
	`Just that if you had refused, I was to be punished.'
	`How?'
	`I'm sorry; I can't tell you.  So will you arrive at eight?''
	`Yes.'
	`He wants you to bring two bottles of wine and three four-packs
of strong lager.  Will you do that, please.'

How sweet his voice was.  How Julian longed to kiss his lips.
	`Yes.  I'll do as he says.  At least I can save you from whatever
he had planned for you, Andrew.'
	`Thank you.'  Another pause and then the lad spoke once more.
`I love you' he breathed down the receiver, and before Julian could
respond, he hung up.

The one thing Julian was not going to do was visit Roberts wearing
panties.  At least he could keep that hidden from the arrogant young
man.  But what else to wear?  In the end he opted for black slacks and a
tee-shirt - and no underwear.

It was a little after eight when Julian knocked on the door of the terraced
house.  It was opened by a leering Roberts.
	`Hi there Big Boy.  What brings you round to our pad?'
	`I thought you wanted me' replied a disconcerted Julian.
	`Really?  Why should we want you?'

Now Julian was totally confused.  He started to make his excuses and
leave when Roberts burst out laughing.
	`Come in Big Boy!'
He had been playing with his tutor!

He took the bottles and the four-packs, leaving Julian standing in the
messy front room of the student house.  Who else was there?  Where
was Andrew?  He was to find out soon enough.

Roberts returned carrying an opened can of lager.  He slumped into the
only armchair, casually letting his hand drift across his tutor's bum.
	`Did you like the pic I sent you?'
	`Yes.  No.  I don't know.'
	`Revealing isn't it.'
	`Yes.'  It was!
	`And you wouldn't want it circulated would you?'
	`No!'
	`In that case you will have to do as we say, or else!'

Julian looked down at the smirking youth.
	`Don't worry' the lad mocked.  `We don't want you as a
permanent house-slave.  We already have one.'  And with that he called
in a loud voice, `Come in cock-sucker.'

The door into the middle room opened and Andrew stood there.  Julian
stared at him in astonishment.  He was naked save for the tightest pair of
white cotton shorts Julian had ever seen; they shaped his bum and
private parts in an obscene display of maleness.  Around his neck was a
studded leather collar, made permanent by a small padlock.  His
beautiful hair had been cut off and his head shaved bare.  His nipples
had been pierced and ringed.  He was a slave!
	`Andrew!'
	`No!' snapped Roberts.  `He aint called that anymore, are you
boy.  Tell high and mighty Big Boy what your name is now.'

	`My name is pansy or cock-sucker.'
	`And whose cocks do you suck?'
	`Any you tell me to, Sir.'
	`Sounds like we got two cock-suckers here don't it Big Boy.
Which poses me a problem which I can only resolve by having you
suck each other off.  But before then, a little tutorial for you Big Boy.'

He signalled Andrew to approach him and with importunate fingers
rubbed the lad's stiffening dick through his shorts.
	`Seems like cock-sucker is pleased to see you, Big Boy!'

Julian stared mesmerised at the burgeoning penis straining under the
tight white cotton of Andrew's running shorts.

A simple command and Andrew went face down over Roberts's knees.
The lad reached to the side of the chair and came up with a rubber-
soled slipper and with nonchalant ease he began to spank the lad's bum.
Harder and harder he punished poor Andrew, forcing the lad first to
wince and then to cry out.
	`Please stop' begged Julian.  `He's had enough.'
	`But he hasn't' responded Roberts and spanked the lad even
harder.
	`I beg you, please!'
	`I will, but only if you take his place!'

Julian nodded.

Roberts noted him with amused contempt.  He would have to do better
than that.
	`So you want me to spank your faggot arse, do you Big Boy.'
	`Yes.'
	`Yes what?'
	`Yes please.'

Roberts pushed Andrew off onto the carpet from which the lad rose,
rubbing his bum.
	`You like his cock don't you Big Boy?'
	`Yes, I do' admitted Julian.
	`You hear that cock-sucker.  Big Boy Harte wants to suck you
off, like he did last time.'  He turned back to the man.  `Kiss his cock
through his shorts.'

Julian had no alternative but to obey.  He knelt and placed his lips at the
wet end of Andrew's cock.  How sweet it was.

When Julian rose from his knees, Roberts still kept him waiting,
alternately touching up the man and insulting the lad.  When he had
Julian suitably cringing he ordered Andrew to remove Julian's slacks.
The gentle touch of Andrew's hands had the inevitable effect; Julian's
cock rose in appreciation.
	`Look at that, he likes you, likes you enough to take your
spanking!'

A simple command and Julian was over Robert's knee.  He felt the lad's
stiffness pressing into him but that was not the issue, it was his arse.
Robert's stared at it in amazement for there were several clear lines
where Maria had caned him two days before.
	`Who gave you these?' he asked, running a finger of the wheals.
	`Maria.'
	`Did she now.  Why was that?'
	`Because I annoyed her.'
	`Like andy pandy annoys me, no doubt.  Well, too bad, you have
to take it now Big Boy.'

And with that he spent a full five minutes spanking the man's bare bum
until Julian too was crying out in pain.  Released at last, Julian stood
rubbing his throbbing bum, for the moment oblivious of everything else.
	`Take big boy upstairs and find him a nice tight pair of running
shorts like yours, pansy.'

Andrew nodded and turned to Julian and led him upstairs.  The stairs
went straight up to a small landing with a bedroom off either side.  Julian
stared down at the dirty blanket and pile of clothes on the landing.  He
reached down and picked up a pair of dirty white shorts.
	`These are the only ones I have got I am afraid.'
Julian tried them on.  They were very very tight.
	`Don't you have anything bigger?'
	`Sorry. No.'

Gingerly Julian made his way back downstairs.  Roberts burst out
laughing.
	`Shows off your bum nicely doesn't it Big Boy, and your fag
cock.  Just what you queers do isn't it, wave your cock about.'  He
turned to Andrew.  `You like Big Boy's cock don't you pansy?'
The lad blushed and admitted he did.

At that moment the street door crashed open and the two lads who
shared the house with Roberts staggered in from the pub.
	`Hey man, what is Big Boy doing here?'
	`He dropped round to bring us some booze.'
	`And touch up cunt-face, no doubt' leered the other guy.  `Look
at the way he is dressed, like a bitch on heat!  That fucking cock!'

Andrew was sent to fetch the tinnies from the fridge and soon the three
young men were soaking up more lager, the drunkards getting drunker
and drunker.  And all the while Julian was forced to stroke Andrew's
bottom and play with his cock through his tight shorts for the
amusement of the lascivious trio.
	`I need a piss' announced one of them after 20 minutes.  `Come
with me piss boy!'

Andrew disengaged himself from his tutor's fondlings and with a smile
of regret and embarrassment followed his tormentor.  A couple of
minutes later the two returned except that now Andrew was dripping
piss from his waist down.
	`Go and stand on your mat, piss pot' ordered Roberts.  `We
don't want the landlord complaining of piss on his carpet do we.'  He
turned to Julian.  `Isn't he sweet all dripping in piss.'

Julian didn't answer.  How could he?
	`Answer me, cock-sucker' snapped Roberts.
	`Yes.  No.  I don't know.'

Roberts turned to the pale-faced Andrew.  `Take your cock-sucking
friend out and show him where to wait.  I shall be out in a moment for
my piss.'

Still dripping, Andrew led his tutor through the back room and kitchen
into a small walled yard.  He pointed to a spot half-way down the yard.
	`That is where we have to stand when they want a piss.'
Julian stared at the spot, stared at the pool of piss so recently left.
	`I am sorry about this, I really am, but there is nothing I could do.
They ordered me to make you come round.  I had no alternative.
Sorry.'

At this moment Roberts emerged.  Already his cock was out, swinging
in the night air like a hose.
	`Time for your christening, Big Boy.'
He pointed to the spot.  As in a dream, Julian went over.
	`I've always wanted to piss over you, arse-licker.  And now I'm
going to.  But first you can kneel.  I want you to get the full force of my
piss!'

Julian knelt, knelt before his tormentor and waited for the inevitable
flood and to his horror he realised he was a throwing a huge stiffie, his
cock telling him what his mind thought of this humiliation.  With a grunt
Roberts let fly, spraying the kneeling man from his head to his crutch in
warm wet piss, drowning him in his contempt.  Julian was well and truly
christened.

Task completed Roberts shook his remaining dribbles over Andrew and
returned indoors.  The lad came up and tears in his eyes kissed his lover
on the lips, tasting the still dripping piss.
	`I am sorry.  I am so sorry.'
>From somewhere he produced a towel and dried Julian off before
leading him back to their masters.  For a respite?  Not a bit of it.

	`What kept you?' snapped Roberts.  `You been playing with each
other?'
	`No sir' responded Andrew as quick as a flash.  `I was just drying
him off so he wouldn't drip on the carpet.'
	`Oh you did did you.  And who told you to do that?
	`No one.'
	`You seem to have forgotten your place, bitch.  You decide
nothing; you just do as ordered.'
	`Yes Sir.  Sorry Sir.'
	`You will be, you bitch!'
	`Don't worry John.  I still have a bladder-full.'

All five now went into the yard, Roberts and his mate to watch, their pal
to piss, Andrew to witness, and Julian to suffer.  This time he was made
to lie on the cold brick floor in the pool of piss left by the previous two
whilst the youth swayed above him as he took out his cock and began
to piss over the full length of Julian's body.

Half way through he stopped and Andrew was made to join his lover.
A command from Roberts and they clasped each other and kissed as
the youth resumed his pissing.

An hour later Julian was ejected from the house dressed just in the
stinking shorts.  He had begged to have his clothes returned but Roberts
was adamant.
	`You will drive home like the dirty little cock-sucking arse-licker
you are.  Just thank your lucky stars I'm not making you walk!'

And so he returned through the mean streets, across the town centre, to
his suburban retreat.  He parked in the drive and was just opening the
front door when his neighbour who was walking his dog called out a
greeting.
	`Didn't realise you were a late night jogger, Julian.'
He blustered an answer and fled inside before the man could ask him
why he wore no trainers.  It was yet another humiliation.