Date: Mon, 13 Sep 1999 13:18:36 PDT
From: Matt Thompson <boy_wondr@hotmail.com>
Subject: Developing Myself

This is a work of fiction, and my first attempt at writing.  It contains
material which maybe interpreted by some as being gay or SM related, if that
offends you, or you are too young to read such material please stop now.

The ad in the story is a real one, so if there are any guys out there in
the North UK that are interested in responding please do :

Boy_Wondr@hotmail.com

All other constructive correspondence or suggestions are greatly
appreciated.

Developing Myself

Part 1 The Ad

	WANTED: A guy to give me the motivation to tone myself up and start
	to build muscle - I am a 24yo guy in fairly good shape, needing the
	discipline of a coach to achieve perfection

There it was, I'd made the decision and was gonna go through with it. I
had made many false starts in the past and knew it would take someone
locally to give me the proverbial kick to get me going and keep me
going. Now all I had to do was wait...

Part 2 The Responses

They were mixed to say the least; guys offering cyber training which I
knew wouldn't work for me....so a polite thanks but no thanks was
returned. I wasn't ready for one response which caught my attention
immediately. It was from a PE teacher in a private school who suggest he
could help, but used non conventional but successful methods to ensure
guys trained to their peak. I instantly recognised the name at the
bottom of the -email as someone that had taught me at school !! I agreed
to meet the guy for a drink, a big step in itself as he had fuckin
scared me at school. It was all very relaxed and he explained that the
key to achievement was RESPECT, HUMILIATY and DISCIPLINE three key words
which I would learn off by heart. The deal was very straight forward, if
I followed his instructions to the letter then I would begin to see the
results I desired.

I thought back to my time at school, and looked at the guy sitting in
front of me now. He hadn't changed at all, maybe a littleolder but still
ruggedly built. His nick name back then had been Wolf and he had the
reputation f being strict, but, true to hisword got results.

He continued, that he felt the way forward was to make a total
commitment for three months after work three nights a week. To ensure I
remained with the programme not only would I sign a contact but also
hand over a deposit of 100pounds, a percentage of which he explained, would
be used to buy clothing to kit me out, the remainder would be handed
back to me after three months.

That was the deal.....take it or leave it....If I wanted to continue I
was told to meet him at the school gym the following Monday at 7p.m.

Part 3 - The First Meeting

I packed my kit bag....trainers, socks, jock and tee-shirt before
heading off with a sense of purpose keen to get going. He stoodthere
striking an imposing figure in a pair of black tight track bottoms and
top, with the ever present whistle round his neck.

He ushered me into the office to complete the formalities, I handed over
the cash and he gave me the contract to sign. I didn'tpay my attention
to it, keen to get started. It seemed straight forward : he would expect
me to follow his instruction on both nutrition and exercise. In order to
maintain respect for development and growth I was to address him as Sir
at all times and follow his instructions and rules to the letter, and he
reserved the right to punish any transgression at whim to ensure my
growth. I handed it back signed and a wry smile crept over his face...
"Well its time for you to get started boy....go get changed and in the
gym in five minutes" he commanded. I went to pick up my bag which he
took from me "You won't be needing this, your kit's already lined up in
the changing room - Five minutes - GO" The last part was shouted and I
started to feel uneasy. I steppedinto the deserted changing room, and
looked for what to wear. A cold shudder ran down my back, in front of me
were a pairof white socks trainers, and a white Speedo bearing my
surname in black letters. I desperately looked round for shorts and a
top....but nothing more. I reluctantly got changed into his 'special'
uniform. The swimming trunks were what we had been made to wear in the
lower school for gym class. The ones I was wearing were deliberately a
couple of sizes too small and left nothing to the imagination - I was so
embarrassed. I entered the gym gingerly covering my crotch and awaited
his arrival.

He revelled in my embarrassment and grinned a grin which I would come to
worry about "Glad to see your new uniform fitswell - I want to see every
part of your body move....now when you wait for my arrival you run laps
of the gym - NOW!" He shouted the last part and I moved slowly jogging,
trying to hide my embarrassment. He blew his whistle and I took this as
mycue to stop,

"Assume the Position" he said in a low menacing tone, he was already
ending me over and kicking my legs painfully apart. I grabbed my balls
through their lycra casing and squeezed at the same time slowly and
deliberately spanking me. "You and I need to get a few things clear boy"
he was really starting to hurt me now, not just the physical pain but
the embarrassment as well.

We he thought he had proven his point (my ass felt like it was on fire)
we moved on to circuit training. Starting with press-ups, he held my
balls tightly as I started to dip, and as soon as he thought I was
slowing down he started to squeeze - it wascertainly an effective
training method as I did a lot more press ups than I have ever done in
my life. Squat thrusts came next, before I started he made sure that I
had a good view of his riding crop which he swished through the air. I
could see him takehis stance behind me. I started the squats and at any
point of slowing the crop came down on my arse -nothing too heavy that
would be handed out as punishment for disobedience, but enough to make
me pick my pace up again.

So it went on until I was completely controlled and under his spell -
all of my muscles ached and I collapsed from sheer exhaustion.

He dismissed me to the shower and told me to report to the pool the
following Wednesday... This was to be the next stage of my training...


Developing Myself - Part II

This story follows on from Part I of `Developing Myself' which you are
strongly urged to read in order to make sense of this work.

As ever, all constructive correspondence, suggestions or story development
ideas are greatly appreciated -- a lot of ideas for this chapter came from
others for which I am grateful:

Boy_wondr@hotmail.com


Developing Myself Part II

Monday had been a shock, and the numbness I felt afterwards was confused
with a mixture of anxiety and excitement over what was to come next.
Wednesday presented a whole host of new choices -- however the deposit had
been paid, and I had felt an overwhelming sense of achievement after the
events of Monday.

I arrived at a seemingly deserted swimming pool there was an eerie silence
coupled with the sound of pressurized water coming out of hose. The door
clicked shut behind me a seemingly deafening noise as I made my way into the
changing rooms. I hesitated at the door, as I saw those much feared trunks
laid out at the far end of the room -- the only difference this time being no
socks or trainers.

I looked at my watch, conscious of the time, and the potential price of
being late. I changed quickly, the trunks hugging closely to my body and
leaving nothing to the imagination. I could hear the sound of water against
the tiles around the pool, and quickly made my way through the footbath into
pool area.

He stood there -- hosepipe in one hand looking between the clock and me. I
could feel a sense of fear and respect start to creep through me. The 6ft2
sturdy frame looked deep into my eyes, beyond my face, and I looked at the
floor.  "You're a minute late and you haven't had a shower before entering --
Its NOT good enough -- You want to be one of my boys then you strive for
perfection or you Fuck Off -- The choice is yours" It was the first time I
had heard him swear and the word rung through my brain. I knew I had let him
down and felt the control he held over me.
"I'm sorry" I somehow managed to stammer, closely followed by a `Sir' which
seemed appropriate at the time.

"Get on the floor face down"  I got down quickly and he proceed to hose me
down, as if I was just another of the tiles on the floor -- the power of the
water from the hose ripping into my back. "Turn over", the same again except
this time I could see the look on his face. He lingered as the water hit my
balls with such force that my immediate reaction was to use my hands for
protection. The moment my hands started to move I knew it was a stupid thing
to do -- but it was too late, he had seen the intention in my eyes, and we
both knew that it was inappropriate. "Stand" he commanded, turning the water
off, "and bend". The force he applied the hosepipe across my arse reminded
me of the fact that his body was fine -- it hurt, it hurt like hell, but I
was determined not to show any emotion or weakness. The final blow was
considered carefully, he aimed squarely between my legs and hit my balls. I
screamed silently knowing better that to vocalize the scream -- this seemed
to please him.

He stood squarely at the side of the pool, and watched closely as he varied
the stroke required going up and down the length of the pool. His words, his
voice, his masculinity and strength exuded from his body, and I could feel
his control over my body and mind increase. Mt fear and admiration of the
guy grew, and I continued to push myself to please him -- but it was never
enough -- he always wanted more.

As a punishment for being late he fitted me with a special harness, which
attached my balls to my ankles. Every time I moved my legs my balls would be
stretched which was supposed to remind me of my responsibility to keep time.

After 40 minutes my body was starting to tire and I felt myself slowing -- I
tried and tried to keep up with the pace. I stopped when I got to the
shallow end of the pool. Panting heavily I asked, pleaded, begged "Sir,
please I need to stop". He motioned me out of the pool, taking me over his
knee he pulled my trunks down and spanked my arse telling me repeatedly that
tiredness was a weakness and would not be tolerated. I felt totally
humiliated and disappointed with myself. He put me back in the pool.

The training continued, I could feel my consciousness starting to slip. What
happened next I can only surmise, but I blacked out, and felt myself sinking
into the water...

I remember waking up with a cough and splutter on the poolside in the
recovery position, every part of me aching. He was wet, his clothes were
soaked and gripped to his body defining each muscle -- he pushed me to a
limit and brought me back safely.

The confusion in my head was immense -- a mixture of love, hate, respect,
adoration and sheer tiredness was over whelming. He slapped my arse and
pulled me up by the waist until I was kneeling in front of him. He ran his
fingers through my hair "Shower" he simply said -- I knew I was his...


To be continued