Date: Sat, 31 Oct 2015 16:17:50 +0000 (UTC)
From: Peter Trip <ptrtrip@yahoo.com>
Subject: Fully Trained Part 3 (Authoritarian)

This is the third of a three part story and completes my first submission
to Nifty.  Many of you have written to tell me you've enjoyed it.  It took
me more than a couple of hours to put together and I am surprised how much
pleasure it has given me to read your appreciation, so thanks for reaching
out.  Those of you who have enjoyed, but not yet commented, please do so as
I'm trying kick start my imagination for another submission
soon--ptrtrip@yahoo.com

Also, I've just made my first donation to Nifty. If this site has given you
even a small amount of pleasure, why not kick in the cost of a lunch to
help keep it going?

Fully Trained Part 3:

In spite of how hot our times together had been, the reality of "life" soon
comes slamming back.  There is laundry to do, job to turn up to, sleep to
enjoy.  After these first two times together, I'd sneak off for a private
sauna the next day and then dive back into my daily routine.  Midweek, I'd
turned my phone off to see a late afternoon film after work with a coworker
straight from the office.  After, we decided to get a couple of beers and a
cheap Thai, so I didn't bother checking my phone until we'd said goodbye
around 11 and I was heading home on the train.  Oh, shit, there were three
texts from Sir.  The first was, "Come round at 6 tonight" sent at 4pm.  The
next was, "WTF?  Where are you?" sent at 615.  The final one was, "Your
silence and insolence are inexcusable.  I expect to see you tomorrow at
6am, in front of the garage.  Text me, at exactly 6am."

I was exhausted and a bit drunk when I got home at about 1130.  I took my
suit off, drank a liter of water, set my cell alarm and an old radio alarm
for 515, terrified I would not wake up.  Of course, my fear of the
consequences of my fuck up kept me awake until about 130 or 2.


After what seemed like 5 minutes of sleep, the alarms started sounding.  I
leapt out of bed, made some coffee, pee'd, shaved, drank the coffee, 2
minutes in the shower, dried my Prince Albert carefully, dressed, and out
the door walking briskly to Sir's in the pre-dawn darkness.  It was
bitterly cold and even worse, I'd forgotten a hat that my short stubbled
head desperately needed.


Arriving opposite Sir's garage with about 10 minutes to spare, I paused
about a block away not daring to call a minute too early.  I rubbed my
hands, stomped my feet, trying to look inconspicuous on the silent early
morning street.  One minute before six, I walked directly opposite Sir's
garage, looked at the silent house, and took out my phone, texted, "Sir,
arrived, Sir."

The door rose and I entered, as normal, and walked to our meeting room.  I
stood directly in front of him.

He put the collar on my neck.  "Take off your shoes, socks, trousers and
underwear, but leave your shirt on."

"Boy, after starting so well, you've really disappointed me. Until last
night I really thought we had a connection.  You've performed so well up to
now and exceeded my expectations. I cannot understand why you would ignore
my instructions."  I did not know if it would be insolent to reply, so I
remained silent.  "Have you nothing to say for yourself, Boy?"

"Sir, I was not expecting midweek contact.  I was at the cinema, had my
phone off, went to dinner with a friend....Sir, there is no excuse, Sir."

Sir left the silence unbroken for a minute.  "So, are you telling me when
you are not in my presence, not in this room, you are not mine?  Is our
time together just some act, some distraction?"  "Sir, No Sir, I think of
Sir day and night."

Sir thought for a few seconds.  "Clearly not.  I suspect you were in bed
pleasuring yourself last night.

You actually look rather hung over.  Come over here."  He pointed to the
wall. "Put your toes against the wall."  I did so.  "Put your nose against
the wall."  I did so.  Sir took a cane and hung it from my nose pressed
against the wall.  "Do not let that cane slip, or you will regret it. Where
is your phone?"

"Sir, left back pocket of my jeans, Sir."

Sir took it out, "What is the code?"  I gave him the four digit code.
After a few seconds I heard Sir select a ringtone.  "Okay, Boy, to help
remind you that I am not to be ignored, and that when I call, text, or
otherwise summon you, you are to respond instantly, I've programmed my
number under Sir with a photo of your Sir's sweet whip. Hopefully that will
grab your attention when the phone buzzes on the conference table at work."
Sir then left the room for about 5 minutes.  When he returned he had some
sort of package, but with my eyes pinned straight at the wall so as not let
the cane slip from my nose, I couldn't see much from my peripheral vision.
"Keep that cane up there, but move your feet away from the wall about a
foot's length."

"Yes, that looks healed enough," Sir said after closely inspecting my penis
and the barbell through the piercing. Sir picked up the cane.  "Step back.
Now, I want you to look very carefully at this device.  Your piercing is
not a nice little piece of jewelry to show off to your friends at the sauna
you were most likely at last night."  Before I could deny that I was even
at a sauna, Sir swiped my ass with the cane he'd taken from my nose.  "Not
a word....Your dick has been pierced for a purpose.  From today on, you are
going to wear this chastity device, held in place by your now healed PA
piercing.  The only time you will be out of this cuff is when you are in my
presence, when you are unable to touch yourself, and when Sir feels like
edging you and maybe, rarely, only then may I grant you an emission by my
hand alone.  Do you understand?"

Gulp, looking straight ahead, I replied, "Sir, yes Sir."

Sir took out the bar in my penis.  He tugged a bit to stretch my flacid
dick.  He then placed a slightly curved metal sleeve / tube around the
length of my penis. Next, he picked up a curved metal pin pushing it
through the PA opening. Two holes in bottom of the sleeve (the part of the
sleeve closest to the Prince Albert piercing) attached to the pin and on
the outside of one of them was a very small lock that held the pin firmly
in place. This design was 100% escape proof due to the PA and lock.  At the
same time, it would allow me to pee and to wash. Sir looked up at me
(probably the first and last time I'd be looking down a him starring at my
dick), and asked, "That hurt?  Nothing being stretched or torn?"

"Sir, no, Sir.  Sir, feels fine, Sir."

Sir took the key and locked the sleeve in place.  He then very pointedly
placed the key on his key chain.  "It's going to take you a few days to
realize how much this thing is going to change your life.  In the meantime,
you need a lesson. Give me your wrists."  Sir quickly attached and then
tightened the leather wrist cuffs. He then pulled my hands behind my back
and clipped the rings on both cuffs together. Next Sir clipped a short
section of thick metal chain to the clip holding the leather wrist cuffs
together behind my back. The other section of chain clipped to an "O" ring
that was part of the leather collar already in place around my neck. I was
pretty tightly bound with both my cuffed hands pressed against my back just
below my shoulder blades while at the other end, my leather collar was
tight against my throat.  This position forced me to stand up ramrod
straight and kept my shoulders and arm muscles bulging.


"You're getting twelve of this cane. That's one stripe for every hour
you've kept me waiting since last night. You are to count them off.
Understand, Boy?"

"Sir, yes Sir."

To steady me and keep me stablized during this punishment, Sir pushed my
front against the wall. With his left hand, he grabbed the tail of my
shirt, twisted it around tightly into a ball in his fist, and pushed it
against my lower back to keep me perfectly in place.  Sir's right hand was
rubbing the cane gently around my two buttocks in a circular motion.  He
tapped gently a few times as if aiming, then a few more circles.


"Start the count, boy."

"Sir, one, Sir."

The mild discomfort of my tightly restrained shoulders, arms and neck
evaporated about 5 seconds after the first strike. The exhaustion and
hangover I was experiencing also left the room. Sir started rubbing and
tapping awaiting my second count. I think at least a minute went by before
I gulped and called out, "Sir, two, Sir." After about another minute to
recover, I counted off the 3rd stroke. Absolute agony. At this point I took
the decision to "power through" the next strokes to get them out of the
way. At the rate I had been going I was simply dragging out the pain, and
really, could it get any more painful?  I quickly counted off strokes four,
five, six and seven. That was it, I couldn't call out another.  For the
first time since I'd entered this room, I seriously thought of calling it
all off. I was panting hard. Sir put the cane on table.  He took a cloth
and wiped the sweat off my forehead and brought a water bottle to my lips.


"Had enough, boy?  Just say the word and I can undo you.  No hard
feelings."

I closed my eyes and thought to myself, "Fuck, why not?  What the hell am I
doing tied up in a dungeon having my ass torn up by this sadist?  What is
wrong with me?  You want this?"  Slowly, opening my eyes I turned towards
Sir, "Sir, no, Sir.  Sir, let's continue, Sir."

Sir smiled, "You sure, boy?"

"Sir, yes, Sir."

"I am impressed.  Very well," and Sir picked up the cane.  Grabbing the
tail of my shirt, he put his mouth two inches from my ear and whispered,
"Pain is pleasure for boys like you. Trust Sir. You will find peace
embracing your real nature."  He stepped back, tapped my buttocks lightly
and soon I half shouted, "Sir, eight, Sir." Sir didn't let up a bit, but
strangely nine, ten, eleven, and twelve came in a steady blur.


After the 12th stroke, Sir released my shirt, placee the cane on the table
and said nothing.  For at least a minute I did not move.  Sir walked over
to me and silently detached the chain holding my cuffed wrists high behind
my back which caused them to drop to just above my flaming ass. Next he
undid the clip holding the cuffs together.  I stretched my arms over my
head. Continuing in silence, Sir handed me the towel and water bottle. I
dried myself, got dressed, and turned to Sir.  He put his finger to his
lips indicating silence and pointed to the door.  I left.


Arriving at the office at 730, my ass burning with a dozen new stripes, my
dick pulsing against the chastity sleeve, I quickly ducked into the
bathroom to relieve myself before heading to my floor. I peed, washed my
hands, splashed a lot of cold water on my face and head (very useful not
having more than a couple week's stubble for a quick clean up).  Nothing,
and I mean nothing, could faze or upset me today.  I became an efficient
machine concentrating solely on work for the next 8 hours.  When I returned
home that evening I would make sense of it all.


................................

As soon as I returned home that night, I tore off my clothes and examined
my thrashed ass and newly imprisoned dick.  12 blue / black lines, nearly
parallel, extended from the top of my buttocks to the top of my legs. "How
long is that going to take to heal" I wondered?  However, I've been caned
and whipped before and knew it would heal soon enough.  This chastity
device was certainly a new sensation.  I could move and adjust my dick a
bit, but that curved sleeve was held pretty firmly in place by the Prince
Albert attached locked ring. I was well and truly imprisoned.  The curve in
the tube's design prevented me from getting more than slightly hard. It
wasn't uncomfortable at all, but I wondered what would I have to do to be
freed?  Sir had held out hope that I could earn some relief.  Surly after
today's beating I'd earned some sort of release?

Being locked in this way made me realize that I needed to re-direct my
sexual skills to anal and oral service.  If I can pull that off to Sir's
satisfaction, I'm sure I will be rewarded with release.  Carrot and Stick,
so to speak.


Due to the very short night of sleep the previous night, and the ordeal of
this morning, I was soon in bed.  I woke a few times, my dick straining
painfully at the sleeve, but soon I'd calm down and sleep again. In the
days that followed, it was strange how quickly my body adjusted to the
stripes on my ass and upper legs and the chastity sleeve on my dick.  I'd
go hours without even thinking of sex, and then something would set my
horny mind going and I could feel the dick pressing painfully against the
sleeve. At home, I'd sometimes stare at it in the mirror and ask myself,
"When is Sir going to let me out?  What will I have to do?  What can I do
in the meantime for release?"  I knew this; I was going to service Sir's
cock better than ever, find out what really got him going.  I was also
going to get that hard dick in my ass as often, deep, and rough as
possible.  Anything to take my mind off my useless dick, now hopelessly
unable to grow in its confined metal cage.


Work was busy for a few days, but nevertheless I could not help looking at
my phone every hour or so, awaiting the next contact from Sir.  Why no
message?  Was he angry?  What was that silence about after our last time
together? Was my phone working?  Do I contact him?  After slipping up by
missing his messages mid-week last week, I was not going to disappoint him
again.  I considered contacting him, but reasoned that would be impertinent
and insubordinate.  Sir had my number.  About a week later my phone
chirped, I pulled it out and there was photo of Sir's single tail whip with
his text message.  "Get your hair trimmed at lunch time and come directly
to my place after work.  Text and wait for garage to open."

That afternoon, I left for lunch, went directly to barber's.  There was one
guy in the chair and one guy in front of me.  I felt pretty ridiculous
sitting there with my extremely short cut, waiting.  "Next," barber called
out and I settled in the chair.  "Number one like last time, or do you want
me to shave it to the bone?" "Number one, like last time." Not three
minutes later, he was finished.  Barber looked me straight in the eye as I
paid, and said, "Tell your Sir I am pleased he's done so well finding you.
See you in two weeks."

Hours later, I am naked, cuffed, freshly shorn, gagged, bound to the A
frame.  Sir is slowly, but intensively tanning my ass and back with his
whips, floggers, straps and a cane.  Today I've got a leather bar gag
stuffed in my mouth with two straps pulled back to a silver rings near my
ears and then two more leather straps holding it in place by leather straps
crossing the back and top of my sheared skull.  Just as the beating gets
close to too intense, Sir backs off allowing me to recompose myself.  I
cannot really tell if I've been here for five minutes or five hours.

At some point I no longer really feel the blows.  There is just a general
intense throbbing heat coming off my ass and back.  It feels so delicious.
Finally, Sir put the whip down and whispers in my ear, "Nice work, boy.
There is nothing that gets me hotter than turning your body into a hot,
throbbing, sweating work of art."  Still cuffed and tied to the whipping
frame, Sir unlocks and removes my chastity device.

My dick feels cold without the steel it has grown used to.  I immediately
become erect.  Sir takes the gag out of my mouth and lets it hand around my
neck.  "Spit into my hand."  He then rubs my spit around the shaft of my
penis, and then returns his hand to my lips, "More," and I spit more again.
He then starts stroking me from head to shaft.  Just as I'm about to cum,
he stops. My penis softens.  Sir starts up again and edges me for about 10
minutes before he takes me over the line and I explode with a weeks worth
of backed up jiz.  Sir takes my cum and rubs it around my skull.  "Nice
work, boy.  Very nice.  I'm so glad you didn't walk away last week.  You've
crossed the threshold and earned your place as Sir's fully trained sub."

I cannot describe how satisfied I am knowing that Sir controls my body and
mind, completely and without reservation or hesitation.  I am no longer
driven by my desires.  My erotic soul is programed and shaped by this
relentlessly kinky Sir.