Date: Fri, 21 Jul 2000 01:21:41 EDT
From: Danny Meyer <sittinhome@hotmail.com>
Subject: BOYZ BRUTAL TRAINING SCHOOL 01 (Authoritarian)
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BOYZ BRUTAL TRAINING SCHOOL - Chapter 01 (Authoritarian)
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Archive;'Boyz Brutal Training School #01'{Danny Meyer}( MB, BB,
slow, bd, sm, cbt, tort, anal, inc, twink, ws )[]
by Danny Meyer sittinhome@hotmail.com
(Comments by email are very welcome.)
Copyright (C) July 20, 2000 by Danny Meyer
TO THE READERS:
There will be other Chapters, (parts), but I don't know how many.
WARNING: This was written for gay men and women. Some bi men
and women may also enjoy it, as well as some straight men and
women who are curious. If you like male to male sex, and
discipline, read on. This is a fictional story. None of this
ever really happened. None of the people are real people. The
story here is about sex and bodily pain, involving adult men, and
young men in their teens to age 22. So it's safe to assume, all
the action is teen-to-teen, or teen-to-man. In other words, only
gay stuff. The cast is male only. If you like, and you're
allowed to read this, go for it. If not, have a good day--
no hatred or discrimination here.
________________________________________________________________
________________
"There is a part of every man that wants to discipline, and a
part of every young man, that aches for discipline."
________________
***** CHAPTER 1 *****
Gordon: Owner of the training school
John: About to be hired to work at the school
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"What's a guy like you doing with a building full
of teens?"
"Teen BOYS, John. We call them residents. Students
too, but boys, nevertheless," I said to my prospective employee,
emphasizing the word 'boys' to increase his discomfort, as much
as to remind him that mine was a gay establishment, and that
straight boys would not be tolerated--at least, not straight
boys who refused to engage in male sex. I was liking this man,
John, more and more, his assertiveness and keen questioning were
exactly what I needed.
"Well," I went on, "I train them. Besides, it's easier for a 32
year-old like myself to bring them to me, and have them here,
24/7, than it is for me to go out cruising for them."
"So, this is all just for your pleasure? This huge
place, these 80 boys, all these rooms, that huge kitchen, all
this..."
"John, Are you gay?" I cut him off.
"Yes. Your ad in Lambda Magna asked for a gay person, I
wouldn't have responded if I weren't gay."
"Good. Then the rest of the answer to your question is,
what we do here builds character in the boys. Besides, all this
that you see here, can be for your pleasure too. And for the
record, that total is 160 boys, in round numbers, approximately
80 per division."
"With all due respect, Mr. Wells, those kids are a little
too young for my taste."
"You can call me Gordon. I apologize for cutting your
tour short. You only saw the younger division. You didn't get
to see the older age groups."
I could see this aroused John's interest immediately.
"The mandatory exiting age is the end of their 22nd year, John,
although we have no 21 or 22 year-olds at the moment."
"That's more like it. So........ what did you mean,
Gordon, when you said that this can be for my pleasure, too?"
"Within the loose confines of certain rules, you'll be
able to have your way with a good number of the boys." I could
see John was uncomfortable with the word 'boys,' so I looked up
and studied him for a moment. "Young men, if you prefer. That
includes training too."
"Training?" John said, distastefully, "From what you
showed me today, Gordon, I'd say that 'training' is just a pretty
word for whipping, or hurting them, isn't it?" John said it more
as a statement, than a question. "In any case, if I am required
to do that to a kid, then, I'm not a candidate for this job,
Gordon."
"We have a lot of ground to cover, John, but let me
assure you, that is not a requirement. However, I admire your
principles. I must tell you though, most of our employees that
felt that way, soon changed their minds."
"My God! Are you all sadists, here?" John said,
angrily.
"No, John, not at all. Cruelty is not permitted, here."
"Gordon! How can you call it anything BUT cruelty?"
I proceeded to explain to John, now fidgeting nervously, that all
the residents, the 'boys,' have agreed to every part of their
treatment; that we don't abuse our boys, (at least not beyond
'reasonable' limits); that we use 'safewords,' and that besides
my personal pleasure, our training was actually legitimate,
modeled after the ways of the traditional, old masters, and
designed to strengthen and discipline a boy, and make a better
man out of him, so that he ends up strong, able to control his
desires, think and work more fiercely and effectively than
untrained men, and accomplish more in the world. And in bed.
Also, in the most literal and ethical sense of the word, the
residents were, in effect, 'slaves,' but not the mindless type.
"I'm a pretty good history student, Gordon, and, I don't
recall hearing anything like that in my studies."
John was skeptical.
I neglected to tell John that sometimes we don't always believe
the boys, when they say their 'safewords,' but he would see for
himself, soon enough.
"All right, John, I'll get you a book by the time you
leave today. It should convince you of our legitimacy, here."
I pressed the intercom key, and asked my secretary to retrieve a
certain volume from my library.
"Gordon, what about the younger ones? I saw them as
young as 14 or so, running around, naked, that can't be legal!"
"State law."
John looked shocked as I said this.
"That's impossible."
"Age of consent and age of majority laws were repealed
seven years ago. It's more by omission than by direct allowance,
but, this is all perfectly legal. The state considers them
adults at birth, and there are no laws prohibiting them from
entering any contract at any age, providing they are able to
understand what they are agreeing to. And we video tape all
contract signings, which are repeated monthly, with each
resident."
"No age laws at all, are you kidding?"
"There are some. For example, an officer of the state
must be present during all contract signings with persons under
the age of 18."
"The state oversees this?"
"No, not the operation. They don't really like us that
much -- they don't hate us, either, mind you, but they do oversee
the contract signings. Mainly to double check that the boys are
actually agreeing to everything of their free will, and that
they are free to leave at any time. Social Services examines
the boys on a quarterly basis, to check for abuse, and to see
that they aren't being forced into anything, including staying
here."
"You're an agency?"
"Not hardly! We had a problem six years ago. We went to
court over a boy who managed to sneak a knife in here, and he
cut himself deliberately. The case was dismissed for lack of
evidence, but not until after two hellish days of trial. That
was when I registered with Social Services, for voluntary
inspection. We've had no problems since then. As a matter of
fact, I have a contact there, who places a boy here,
occasionally--unofficially, and under the table, of course.
"Unbelievable! Is that where all these boys came from?"
"No, John! I wouldn't have more than a handful of boys,
if I depended on Social Services for my supply. Most of our
residents are runaways or castaways. A few are problem kids.
Others, maybe five percent, are brothers or cousins of residents,
kids who would otherwise be living on the street."
"How do they find out about this place?"
"I have contacts at other organizations, like street
missions, and other places that cater to homeless boys. Word
spreads, on the street. We have an 800 number. Some boys find
out, and just knock on our door. I have scouts, too."
"Scouts? That sounds interesting, Gordon. What does that
mean?"
"Scouts are guys who run across homeless boys, and if the
boy is interested, the scout brings him here. After I make sure
the boy truly wants to be here, I pay the scout a reasonable fee.
That keeps them motivated to continue finding potential
residents, and bringing them here."
"Gordon, I can't imagine a kid coming here and agreeing,
of his own volition, for God's sake, to be paddled and caned
like some of the ones I saw today. It's just not reality."
"You're right." John looked surprised. I went on, "Some
of the boys don't agree to that. We still accept them if they
pass certain standards. The boys that don't agree to submit to
our training, end up with limited privileges, but they still
have a good life, here. Many of them change their minds, and
agree to training later on."
"Gordon, you have different standards for boys who don't
agree to the training?"
"No, the standards are the same, for all applicants.
They all have to be healthy, reasonably good looking, and so on.
The boys that don't agree to be trained are put to work
cleaning, cooking, assisting in whatever we ask, and generally
maintaining the place. We don't reject any reasonably healthy
boy, if he's sincere, so, the ones that don't pass the looks
criteria get put on maintenance."
"What about the ones in training, do any of them ever
back out, or say they can't take it? I mean, there's gotta be
some..."
"It happens, John. It's rare, but it happens."
"Gordon, it's RARE? That one kid I saw during your tour,
was getting a brutal paddling. I know I wouldn't last ten
seconds if someone did that to my little butt, when I was that
age. How can it be rare? I would think you'd have maybe 90% of
them back out!"
"You have to understand the culture, here. First of all,
there's a lot of peer pressure. Good peer pressure. There's a
certain honor and competitiveness among the boys. Training is a
badge of honor, to our residents--even to the point of getting
their privates tortured, which is especially discouraging for
our top boys. At any rate, it's considered the worst kind of
'wimping out' if a boy stops his training. Besides, the
training process is addictive."
"Addictive? I don't know, Gordon, this is sounding really
weird to me. I don't know if even YOU can sell me on THAT
point!"
"I'm not surprised you said that -- and, no, we don't
drug them to make them willing, or force them in any way, but
those with lower sex drives are given supplemental hormones,
under the doctor's care.
"I'll explain the part that I think you'll understand. The
reward for a good training session is sex. They're geared up
for sex. They crave it. And we help them along with that
craving. Sex is almost as much of a motivator as maintaining
their honor, their status, among the other boys--students, we
call them. The more tortured a boy looks, the more his peers
admire him--or are glad that they're NOT him. Besides, we feed
and exercise them well. We have a doctor here, and a nurse. We
tease them too, sexually, of course. All of that helps them to
stay horny and motivated."
The intercom buzzed. "Your book is here, Mr. Wells."
"Tease them, Gordon? I almost hate to ask."
"Sexually. You know, brought to the edge, but no
further? Over and over for hours or days at a time--until the
boy's level of arousal is so great that..."
"You ARE a bunch of devils around here, aren't you?!!
Gordon, do you have time to take a shot at explaining the other
part of the addictiveness, to me? You have my curiosity up."
I was glad to see that John was warming up to this, finally.
"Yes, but I warn you, it will be incredible. That boy,
Warren, you saw getting paddled? He's been a resident here for
over two years. He's experienced--a true sub, now. He
craves the training so much, he complains miserably if I
withhold it. He NEEDS the pain. You read the articles I sent
you, John, you know what a sub is?"
"Yes. He's the guy that gets the pain -- the bottom,
right?"
"Mostly yes, but, a sub is not always a bottom, although
many of them are. Warren happens to be a very popular top. Our
group is almost 40% tops. We don't fit the usual profile, which,
I believe, is about 80% bottoms. In any case, the pain causes
the boy's body to release endorphins, and other natural bodily
secretions, that cause a very pleasant sensation, afterwards."
"I didn't know that. Can they have sex whenever they
want?"
"No. That's governed by strict rules. There are 2
hierarchies of privilege, one determined by age, the other by
behavior. Both can be overruled, by any of the Masters, or
teachers, but we'll go into that another time.
"So, students, boys, slaves, residents, those all mean
the same?"
"Yes, John. As do Masters and teachers. I am one."
It's getting late, why don't we adjourn until tomorrow? That
will give you time to relax, and enjoy a good meal and your
book. Just scan it. I'm sure you'll see what I mean. Would
you like to join me for dinner?"
"That sounds great. I hate to eat alone. Although, I
should get to the hotel, and check in, first."
"Hotel? We have excellent guest accommodations here,
John. Let me show you. It might save you a hotel bill."
"OK. It can't hurt, I guess."
"By the way, John, are you a top or a bottom?
This caused John to pause, and his blush soon became quite
apparent. "You don't have to answer, I was just curious."
"A top. But I could probably be a bottom, once in a
while, if I was really worked up. Why do you ask?"
"It just helps me to understand your personality sooner,
and how you would best fit in. It's not crucial, John, believe
me."
I could tell John was a little edgy about the wisdom of
accepting our accommodations, but I had the feeling he was
getting more comfortable with our overall operation.
We were in the elevator, on our way to the top floor--the secure
guest quarters--when I sensed John had a question. I raised my
eyebrows at him, to indicate he should ask it.
"OK, Gordon, just between you and me, this training--it's
not all peaches and cream--I mean, it does get like torture for
a student, at times, right?"
"Yes, it does, John. But, no major, or permanent
injuries. Nothing more than, at worst, some small scars on his
butt--his back, maybe, when he leaves here."
"No concussions, bone injuries, mangled genitals--nothing
like that?"
"No, John. Nothing like that. Although more than a few
boys might think they're getting badly injured, or mangled,
during some especially rough training."
"Because of the pain, you mean?"
"That, and the way we go about it, the formality, the
fear, and so on."
The elevator door opened, and we walked down the hall to one of
the guest suites.
"This is one of three presidential-style suites. You can
see the large hot tub, sitting and bathing areas, and balcony.
Back and to the right is the sleeping area, with another full
bath and smaller hot tub. There's a half-bath, behind us, near
the entry door.
Just in case you do invite a boy in, for fun or training, we have
video cams, everywhere, and YOU turn them on and off, not us."
"Damn, it's like an apartment. And the view is great!"
"No charge, John. It's available."
"I'll take it. I'll cancel the hotel, right now."
"Great. You'll have complete privacy, and full guest
privileges, John, so don't worry about a thing."
"Guest privileges?"
"In case you should want some company. We have no rule
against that. What rules we have, are in that gray book on the
nightstand. Those rules that apply to you, start on page 34."
John seemed baffled at this, probably because he was tired, and
was planning on eating and going to sleep, shortly after dinner.
That would leave no time for a guest.
"I better get my luggage, then, Gordon."
"I'll have one of the staff boys do that for you. Did
you leave your keys at the desk?"
"No, I have them here."
"All right. After dinner, we'll drop your keys off at
the desk, and your luggage should get to your room shortly after
you do."
"What about tipping?"
"It's up to you, John. No rules against it. I'll make
sure the luggage-boy is a good-looking, well built 18 year-old.
And he's yours for the night, just in case you need a nightcap.
I just have to stop back at my office before we head out to
dinner."
"Geezus! You guys are too much!"
Back at my office, John looked at his watch. It was 5:15 PM.
"Gordon, I hear what sounds like applause and shouting,
is that something we can see? I'd like to see some of the older
boys, before we leave."
"That's not an older group that you hear, at least not
the way YOU mean older. It's our intake process for new boys.
We're doing 15 year-olds, today. It's getting cold out, and we
always have larger numbers of new residents apply at this time
of year. What you hear is part of the initiation process. I'll
be glad to give you a look at it, but if you want to see older
boys, just watch the big screen."
I flipped the monitor on, and switched to the older division.
"John, here's two 18 year-olds having sex as a reward for
training well done."
"My God! This is better than any video! Look at them!!"
"Videos. You like them too, eh, John?"
John blushed and nodded his assent.
"Those guys are beautiful, Gordon. Wow."
"Yes, those two make a good pair. Very horny boys."
"The builds on them! I'd hardly call them boys!"
"Yes. But, there are also many, much less muscular 18
year-olds, here, as well. Some of the eighteens look like
fifteens. Let's get to the initiation before it's over."
On the way towards the main hall, I explained to John, a
little of what goes on during an initiation. There are two
different initiation rites, one for the younger boys, one for
the older group. For initiation purposes only, "older" is
determined by the ability to ejaculate semen. This particular
initiation, was only done for boys old enough to cum. The boy
is led, standing, into a small area surrounded by a curtain on
three sides.
He is told he has to masturbate to ejaculation, before meeting
his fellow residents. Before he begins his stroking, a wooden
stand, looking a little like a free-standing coat rack, is
placed behind him. Wooden arms go under the boy's armpits. The
device will actually hold his weight and keep him upright, should
his legs give out during orgasm, which is often the case. The
boy doesn't know it, but he is actually on a stage, and on the
other side of the curtain, is a large audience. As the boy's
orgasm begin to grip his young body, the curtains open on all
three sides, and he is exposed to a roomful of all of the other
residents, and masters, their staring faces all quietly watching
him, intently.
"This room is my second office, and adjoins the
auditorium. We can watch through a two-way mirror."
I pulled the curtain that hid the mirror, and revealed a glass
wall that comprised an entire side of the room.
"Damn! What a VIEW!"
"I thought you might like that, John."
"That kid is gorgeous. He must be the initiate."
"Right, John. I thought you didn't like them that
young," I said jokingly.
"Ahhhh, well... I guess exceptions... can be... Holy
shit! He's just started to stroke himself and he's hard
already."
"We cheat a little."
"Cheat? What do you mean, Gordon?"
"All our initiates spend a week in a chastity belt,
before they get to this ceremony. There's no way they can cum
during that week. They're also closely monitored and
supervised. We cheat, in that we do give them a special 'tea'
before the initiation begins. All natural hormones, but, I
suppose, you could call them drugs, arguably."
"I think, ahhhh... I approve."
I had to laugh to myself. John was drooling at the site of the
15 year-old."
"I'm glad, John. The curtain should open soon."
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If you like this so far, or want to help me stay "up" to write
more, please drop an email of any length, to:
sittinhome@hotmail.com
Thanks. --Danny Meyer
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