Date: Fri, 8 Feb 2002 23:58:33 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Training The Marine, Part 7

TRAINING THE MARINE - Part 7

By Pete Brown.  petebrownuk @ yahoo.com


The following morning on my way to the office I
stopped by to see how the Marine was after his
induction to being sexually dominated.

As I went in, he failed to fall to his knees!
Instead, he came up to me and went to kiss me!

He did look very desirable, I have to admit - he had
showered, having found out how to use the knobs on my
control panel, and his body looked appealingly fresh.
He looked as if he had freshly shaved, too (although I
must remind him about that - I like a swarthy
appearance on my personal slaves, and a day's growth
of beard is somehow more exotic, I think:  it reminds
you, as it scrapes across sensitive areas of your
skin, that you are in bed with a real man).  He had
the vestiges of a morning hard-on still, and his cock
was in that nicely plump state that shows it's just
waiting to rear up at the slightest provocation.  But
he couldn't be allowed to take such a controlling
action himself.

He was smiling, and as he got within range, I casually
lashed out at him, striking him quite a hard blow
across his face with the back of my hand.  He
staggered backwards, more in surprise than pain, I
think (I deliberately used my hand without the ring on
it, as I did not want to risk any damage to his skin
and a possible scar that would diminish his value).  I
shouted out simultaneously

"On your knees, slave!  Have you learned NOTHING?"

He did as  I commanded, and as he knelt there,
forehead to ground, I continued

"How dare you!  All your lessons have taught you that
you must show the mark of obedience and respect when
your master comes in to the room.  So why did you
approach me this morning - it looked as if you might
be trying to kiss me"

"Master... I.... I thought that after last night...."

"After last night?"

"Yes, master.  After we had made love like that, and
we had been so tender with each other, and kissed and
enjoyed each others' bodies, that you would want to
continue and kiss me this morning...."

"Silence!  I wish to hear no more of this nonsense.
You have misunderstood what went on yesterday."

I had been cross, but now became more patient as I
wanted to bring home this lesson quite clearly to the
slave.  I continued:

"We did not make love.  I possessed your body.  I
fucked you, for my own pleasure.  I did kiss you, and
allowed you to kiss back, but that is because I enjoy
feeling the beat of a strong man's tongue inside me.
And I like the slave I am with to respond fully and
forcibly to my caresses, by showing that he is aroused
and excited by them by holding my body intimately in
return.  But that is not making love:  that is the
slave doing what he is supposed to in order that MY
pleasure in the encounter should be maximised.  I
don't care whether the slave enjoys it or not, I don't
care what the slave thinks about it at all.  All I am
interested in is that my own pleasure should be at the
maximum."

"You NEVER, and I repeat, NEVER, initiate any kind of
physical act with me.  I will, when I choose, fuck you
again.  And when you are working in my spa and sauna
suite, I will also allow my close friends to fuck you.
 You will respond, fully and dutifully, to me and the
other men who I let use your body.  But that is all.
There is none of this 'love' involved at all - how
could there be, as you are a slave and I am your
master?   You seem to forget that I own your body, so
I have a right to use it as I will."

"Of course, as a man, I do 'love'.  But I 'love' men
who are my equals - strong masters, like me, who I can
respect and where we mutually understand our needs and
abilities.  For slaves I feel only the duties that any
master has towards lesser beings:  you are an
expensive possession of mine, and so I need to take
reasonable care to ensure that you are well fed, kept
in good health and not prone to diseases and injury,
and generally that your body is properly exercised and
maintained so that my investment in you is protected.
And that's all - I do have some regard for you, and
feel the need to ensure that your training continues
so that you can be easy in properly fulfilling your
role as a slave."

"Now", I continued, "I am leaving.  My visit here his
morning has not been pleasant.  When I return this
evening I will expect to see a properly obedient,
humble slave greet me and that all your silly
expectations have been put aside.  I want you to
continue to exercise your body - hard - so that it is
pleasing to my eyes.  And ensure you do so inside the
caged area, and not out here on the carpet:  it is
only in there that the UV lights play, and it is
important that the tan that you are acquiring gets
improved:  I like my slaves to have even tans, and
there's still the signs of those ridiculous shorts and
shirts that you wore in your former life."

I did not give him the chance to say anything more,
and left him kneeling.  I suspect that I should have
made him stand up, as I know he had expected a lot
from this morning's encounter, and it would have
pleased me to see  if his face properly reflected the
misery and rejection he must now be feeling.  This is
all part of the process of correct slave training -
his mind must be bent to yours, as well as his body.

Later that morning I was meeting with my senior
strategists when out of the corner of my eye I noticed
the "most secret" light blinking on my phone.
Dismissing them, I answered it and it was my
confidential PA telling me it was a 'Lieutenant from
the marines, calling from Washington.'  He knew, of
course, that if the man had phoned the special number
that I would take the call eventually, but it was not
always convenient and so I employed a small staff of
highly discrete men to monitor the line all the time.
My PA said that the man had refused to say what the
call was about - a lot of the requests that come in on
this line actually do not require my personal
attention, as my PAs have the authority to spend up to
$M10 to satisfy any requests made by callers to whom I
have given the number in return for some special
favour or respect they have shown me.

I took the call, somewhat intrigued by what the
lieutenant would have to say, and remembering that I
anyway had to tell him the 'news' about his men.

"Sir?   Sir.....?"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Sir.... You told me to call this number if ever you
could do something for me......"

"Yes, Lieutenant.  And I promised you I would find out
about your men.  I have news for you, and would have
initiated a call myself later today.  So who goes
first?

"Please, sir... News of my men..... Please tell me
where they are."

"I'm sorry", I said, lowering my voice and sounding as
sad as I could.  "But three of the four perished when
they fought bravely against my King's troops shortly
after they had been landed.  I think there was a
failing of your intelligence services, as the King's
men were waiting for them."    I had decided that I
would bend the truth a little - the men were dead (or
as good as dead, in the case of the one sent to the
Brazilians) - and there was no point in upsetting the
lieutenant unnecessarily.  Best to let him think his
comrades died bravely.

"In spite of putting up a strong fight", I continued,
"The King's men captured the fourth marine when he had
exhausted all his ammunition.  In spite of fighting on
with his bare hands, there were enough of them to
subdue him, and he was captured without major damage
to his body."

"So he's alive...?"

"Yes.  He's alive.  Our courts sentenced him to life
imprisonment for his part in this illegal invasion.  I
understand that our King offered to release him to
your government, but they denied all knowledge of him.
 They are claiming, I am told, that he is not a
marine;  that he is not even a US citizen.  They say
he could not have been taking part in a military
mission, as you told me, as 'no such missions have
been, or ever would be, organised against a friendly
nation, a real ally of the USA'.   So I am afraid you
have a classic 'cover up'.  Without an admission from
your government that he was in our country, he will
have to remain here."

"He's in prison....."

"No.  We have a policy of putting prisoners into
useful employment.  The man is currently in training
for a new job that he will have to take for the rest
of his life."  I thought that accurately summed up
what was happening to the slave, in terms the
lieutenant would understand.

"But that's inhuman.... "

"Lieutenant, I'm sorry.  I can only give you the
facts.  Without action on the part of your government,
your comrade will be working in this country for the
rest of his life, unable to leave.  And, as I
understand it, action is not likely to be forthcoming
as it would be too embarrassing to the politicians.
You yourself tell me there is complete denial of any
mission, or any loss of troops....."

"Yes, sir, that is so.  They've even contacted all the
men's families...."

"Families?"  Now I was interested - perhaps I could
find out more about my slave.  I did not want to ask
him directly, of course.

"Yes, sir.  What is the name of the man who is still
alive?  I could perhaps get a message to his wife..."

"Wife?"

"Yes, sir, all the men were married - like so many
marines are."

"I'm sorry, I don't know his name" (obviously I had
never asked, as he was just a slave),

"But", I continued, "My informants have described him
to me.  He's about 5'10", well built, black hair,
uncircumcised...."

"Uncircumcised - how did they know that?"

"Well, all prisoners are of course given a thorough
medical examination, and allowed to shower before
receiving the uniforms they will wear in their
captivity..."  (or of course no uniforms, and no
clothes even!).

"Of course, sir.  Sorry!  But you do hear terrible
stories of what happens to some prisoners in the hands
of the enemy.   But the moment you told me that he was
uncut, I knew you must be referring to Jay Wilson - he
was the only uncut one amongst us, and we used to joke
about it from time to time."

"Yes, of course, lieutenant, I know that most
Americans, like us Arabs, are circumcised ritually
shortly after birth.  But you say the man is married?"

"Yes, sir.   His only relative is his wife - or should
I say ex-wife as they were divorced after only a few
months.  His parents are dead, and his brothers are
not very close having moved away to other cities
across the nation.  He was under my command at the
time of his marriage and I advised him against it - he
had only known the girl a short time - indeed, before
that I had never marked him down as a womaniser -  and
I thought he was only going through with the ceremony
because he thought she was pregnant."

"So he has sired children?"

"No, sir.  It was fairly typical of the low life women
around here at our base:  they see the marines and
think they're good husband material. As indeed they
are - fine men, with good bodies, well paying work,
and serving their country.  So they throw themselves
at the men, get pregnant, and then demand to get
married.   Or, as in the case of Jay, they just say
they're pregnant to get the guy to the alter!   He
wasn't keen, and I did try to stop him, but he saw it
as 'his duty'. To tell you the truth, sir, Jay was one
of those guys who didn't much like women."

"You mean he was gay?"

"NO, sir!  He was just a bit of a loner.  He bonded
strongly with his comrades, but as real men do when
they are in a marines unit - they look out for, and
care for, all their comrades.  There absolutely never
was anything physical, and Jay would never even touch
another man's body.  He was a proper  'man's man', and
such men often fail in marriage.  Of course they fuck
the women, as they are real men, but they don't really
enjoy it, or need it, as some less virile, 'ordinary'
married men do.  He certainly did not need the support
of a wife, as he is tough and mentally strong in
himself."

"So what about this ex-wife?

"Well, sir, she's married again.  I don't think she
cares about him at all."

Thank you, lieutenant, for that interesting
information.  But you called me - you are using the
privilege I granted you of being able to contact me at
any time and ask me for something.....  I'm sorry to
press you, but my time is valuable and I interrupted a
key strategic meeting to speak to you."

"Yes, sir.  It's hard to say... Especially now that
you have given me that news about Jay.  I had a little
speech prepared...  I'm not used to saying things like
this.... "

"Come on, lieutenant, out with it!  You and I have
been as close as any two men can get, physically.
Surely you can't now possibly be shy in revealing
anything at all to me!"

"Sir, sir...  Oh hell.  I'll just say it.   Sir, I
can't stop thinking about you.  I remember the feel of
your body against mine, something I've never felt
before, to have a strong man against me. I can feel
your cock thrusting in to me.  It's making me hard
even as I mention it.  Sir.... As well as my mind,
it's as if my body is remembering you.  Your smell,
your touch, your body's heat, the sound of your breath
in my ear as you pounded into me..."

"Enough, lieutenant!  I think I get the message.  But
didn't I advise you to find a small discrete group of
men and begin to explore and enjoy their bodies, as
all men should?"

"Sir, I tried.  But in the marines, with the 'don't
ask, don't tell' policy, it's not easy to find out
which of your buddies wants you as much as you want
them. And I'm afraid that I will approach a guy and
he'll be disgusted..."

"So what do you want me to do?  Why were you calling?"

"Sir, I hoped... I hoped that on your next trip to the
USA we might meet.  It doesn't have to be in
Washington, sir... If you're just on this side of the
Atlantic on one of your business trips, I'll get
emergency leave and fly to meet you.. Anywhere,
sir.... As long as I can experience you taking me and
possessing me so completely again.   If I knew there
was some hope....  if I knew that, even if it took
months, I could feel again what I felt last week, I
could bear it, I could hold out."

"Is that it?  Most of my callers want something more -
for me to use my influence to get them favour or
promotion, to back a project of theirs, to fund
something which they are interested, or which they
need...."

"No, sir.  I just need to know that I can feel you
again, can taste you, can hear you, can...."

"Very well.  It shall be done.  I believe I am coming
next week, but one of my secretaries will contact you.
 But whilst I'm on the phone, tell me about the rest
of your life.  You were about to be married, weren't
you?   Perhaps my visit might coincide with your
wedding - that would be fun:  I have always wanted to
fuck a man as the climax to his bachelor party..."

"No, sir.  The wedding's  off.  I realised where my
true nature is, and knew that I would never be happy
if I could only go with a woman for the rest of my
life.  I was really only doing it anyway  to get a
wife to help my promotion prospects in the service."

"So how are the promotion prospects anyway?  I imagine
the President has been suitably grateful?"

"Yes, sir.  He gave me a medal for conspicuous acts of
bravery in the nation's service.  There was a brief
enquiry, that completely exonerated me, and commended
me for acting so swiftly on the President's order,
even though I had to shoot a very senior officer.  The
fact that it was you who gave me the command, and
indeed the fact that you were even there, was
completely excluded from the enquiry.  So on the
surface, all is looking good:  I've got one of the
highest awards in the country, and have been
conspicuously commended by an enquiry of senior
officers.  But I know in fact that there's no future
for me.  Of course, I'll get at least one more
promotion - but you have to remember that I shot a
flag officer, and the military has a long memory:
there will always be a whisper of suspicion about me,
and I will never get the high command I believe I
deserve."

"I see.  I think there might be a solution to your
problems, lieutenant.  But you'll need to let me think
about it for a little while. I will now certainly take
time to come to the USA - my aides were urging me to
do so, but I was wavering, and our interesting
conversation this morning has tipped the balance."

"Finally, is there any message you would like taken to
your comrade - Jay, did you say he was called?"

"Yes, sir.  Could you tell him that his commander,
Andy, is still looking out for him, and that I'll do
everything I can to get him home. I'll even go public,
to the papers and TV if necessary, as I've no real
career to worry about now..."

"Do nothing, lieutenant, until after we have spoken
again.  Your loyalty and devotion to your men is truly
excellent, and your country will be the poorer that
you will not reach a senior post in command - I think,
incidentally, that you have read the situation
perfectly correctly.  However public comment could
destroy a plan I believe I can implement., so please
hold off  from any precipitate action.  Now goodbye,
and I will see you soon."

I put the phone down (a master should always be the
first to discontinue a conversation with a
subordinate).  At least one thing was true - public
comment would destroy a plan that was now hatching in
my mind!

Before I went home that evening I returned to visit
the slave again.  He did indeed fall to his knees this
time, and I was in a mood to make a conciliatory
gesture to him.

"Good, slave.  You have experienced my total
domination of you when I fucked you yesterday, but I
do not think you yet properly understand that you are
here only as an object for me to enjoy.  So your
training must continue."

"I have allowed you to taste my cum, when I shot this
precious fluid into your hands.  But you have not yet
been granted the privilege of taking it direct from my
cock.   We will rectify this now."

I walked over to my couch, and sat comfortably,
spreading my legs apart.

"Come here, slave.  Kneel between my legs!"

As he knelt, I adjusted my robes so that my cock,
which had now sprung to a full erection, was
accessible to him.

"Take my cock in your mouth, slave, and begin to
worship it.  Have you ever sucked a man's cock before?
 Perhaps you and your marine buddies used to play
games at night?  Even a lot of supposedly 'straight'
men enjoy cock sucking sometimes - have you done it
before?"

"NO, master!  Never."

"Well then, here are the rules.  Firstly, I like you
to kiss, caress, and generally worship my cock as any
slave would when his master allows him access to that
most precious part of the master's body.  You do that
with your lips and tongue, to ensure that I am fully
aroused and that my pleasure is heightened.  Then you
take the head and shaft into your mouth, and suck it -
not like a vacuum pump, but by running your lips up
and down the shaft, ensuring the flange touches your
lips on  each stroke, as that is where a man is most
sensitive.  Pay particular attention to the point at
the bottom of the flange where the foreskin used to be
attached, as that is the most sensitive area, capable
of causing the maximum pleasure."

"Continue to do this until I cum.  And then be careful
not to continue, as I am extremely sensitive and your
ministrations could verge on pain, rather than
pleasure.  You will of course also ensure that none of
my cum leaks from your mouth - a slave will naturally
want to swallow all this precious gift from his
master."

"You must on no account damage or injure my cock with
your teeth.  Keep them well out of the way!  Let me
warn you that I have ways of dealing with slaves who
persist in causing me irritation with the teeth - I
did not want to dismiss one of my pleasure slaves
totally who had this unfortunate habit, as I enjoyed
the rest of his body and in particular, his extremely
fuckable ass.  But when he could not - or, rather,
would not - keep his teeth away from me, I simply had
them removed.  It spoiled his appearance when he
smiled, as losing the four middle top and bottom teeth
ruins a man's facial expressions.  But it was only a
small price to pay, as I could then continue to have
him suck me, and I could continue to fuck him.  You
wouldn't want that fate to fall on you, I know."

"And finally, focus on my pleasure.  Too many slaves
close their eyes whilst sucking a master.  You should,
as far as you can, look up at my face and see if I am
enjoying it.  A good slave will match the tiny
expressions on his master's face to the strokes he is
doing, and use them as reinforcement of his behaviour,
emphasising the actions that clearly cause the master
most pleasure.  You can only do this if you are
watching - so no closed eyes."

"Right, begin."

I looked down at him as he was kneeling there, and it
was difficult to read the expression on his face.  He
clearly knew it was inevitable that he would obey me.
But there's often something about taking a man's cock
into the mouth for the first time that is difficult
for some men, and this slave was one of them.  Even
when he has drunk the master's cum, and taken the
master up his ass, somehow the act of worshipping the
master's cock and taking it into his mouth remains a
psychological barrier.  It may be something to do with
the stupid Western habit of using "cocksucker" as a
term of abuse - in any rational society, after all,
calling someone "a real cocksucker" would show that he
had properly mastered the art of bonding with, and
pleasing, other men.  It would be a complement, not an
insult.

However I did not have to give further orders, and I
felt the slave's warm lips on my cock head.  I moaned
slightly, to encourage him (well, actually, it was
pleasurable anyway!).

He soon got into his stride, and I continued to give
him little words and phrases of encouragement.
Although, when I whispered "Good, good.  You've done
this before!", meaning it as a few words of praise for
his expertise, he seemed to stiffen and slack a
little.  That hangover from his old way of thinking, I
suppose.

Half way through, on my way to the climax, I
repositioned my legs so that they were over the
slave's shoulders and his arms were around my calves.
I liked to feel his warmth on my legs, and gave him
permission to gently stroke my legs as he continued to
suck, relishing the feel of his hands as they ran
through my wiry hairs.  I also encouraged him by
pulling his head down into my crotch with my hands,
and lightly running my fingers over his shoulders -
many men find this very sensual, and I want the slave
to enjoy himself as he in turn then gives a better
service.

I wasn't certain he was taking me as far down his
throat as he could, so I clamped the side of his body
with my legs and pulled his head hardly and strongly
down into me, feeling his nose bury itself in my pubic
hair.

He almost struggled, and the moment I released the
pressure he pulled right away, and knelt there,
gasping.

"Master.. I'm sorry....", he spluttered.

"I could not help myself from gagging.  Your cock
touched the back of my throat...."

"Don't worry, slave,  That's natural the first time.
You will soon learn the pleasure of taking my cock
deep down into you, right up to the root.  Start where
you left off, and make yourself take a little more
each time - after a week or so, your gag reflexes will
learn what's happening.  But you must work at it, and
really want to do this.  Now, begin again."

He did, and I could sense that he was making himself
to take a little more of me each time, so I did not
need to force his head again.

When I shot my load, I had the satisfaction of knowing
it hit his throat fairly and squarely, and I indicated
that he should stop.  But as my cock softened, I kept
it in his mouth and again pulled his head close into
me - I like to feel the slave's warm breath from his
nose teasing my pubic hairs, and I think it does him
good to get the scent of the master at this point: he
can kneel quietly for a few minutes, with nothing to
do but focus on my male odour that floods that area
from the scent glands there.

"Good, slave.", I said at last.  "A very creditable
performance first time.  Now do the final act for your
master - take my cock and gently clean it all over
with your tongue, to remove any lingering traces of
cum.  Masters do not always have time to wash after a
brief encounter like this, and so the slave should
know how to make sure the master is adequately clean
for the rest of the day."

He did, and it was at this point that think I knew I
had him... He had now done almost everything a slave
can do sexually with a master, and he was doing it, if
at least not totally willingly yet, with some
enthusiasm never the less.

"I must go now, slave, but I will return after the
dinner that I must attend. So do not go to sleep this
evening - keep yourself awake and alert for me."

"Yes, master."

The dinner was one of those interminable things at the
American Embassy, to "meet important people".  What a
way to phrase it!  It was the Americans who were
coming, after all, to meet the important people such
as me, not the other way around!  And it was only a
few political hacks - the Secretary Of State was the
prime one, as I remember.  We all know that these
people have only a few brief moments of power, and
will probably be removed at he next election.  Whereas
those of us who have built a world-wide business
empire, and have our estates and slaves, have real
power in perpetuity. So how can they really be called
"important"?  Especially when they make no real
decisions - events shape inevitable reactions from
them 99% of the time, whereas I of course initiate
action.

I was anxious to return to my slave to begin the next
stage of his enslavement, and as soon as the dinner
was nearing its conclusion, left.  I overheard the
ambassador being asked if there was a problem, as they
thought I might have been upset by something and my
good will was so important to the USA.  I thought
about telling them the real reason for my departure,
but decided against it as it's always good to keep the
other side guessing!

Down in my room the slave was waiting, kneeling
obediently.  I went to my cupboard and got out the
things I would need, and placed them on a low table
conveniently close to my couch.

I slipped out of my robe, and lay comfortably on my
back, half reclining.  Then I told the slave to come
and lie with  me - I positioned him so that he was
lying on his back, too, half on top of me, one of his
legs in-between mine.   My cock was nestling in his
ass crack warmly and snugly, and with my arms around
him I had good access to his tits.  I started to
massage and caress them, whilst simultaneously kissing
and biting his neck.  I enjoyed the sensation of his
warm back against my own nipple, especially as he
started to sweat and it was appealingly moist.

The slave was moaning in pleasure, and as I continued
to tease his nipples he began to arch his back and
shuffle slightly to try to escape the insistent
pleasure pain my fingers were causing him.  This was
mildly enjoyable for me, too, as his ass then moved
most appealingly over my cock, causing me to
experience an even harder erection than I had already.

I stopped kissing him, and whispered in his ear  "So
now we begin to give you the outward marks to show the
rest of the world that you are a specially favoured
slave.  I am going to install heavy nipple rings now -
I will do this myself, as it is an easy thing to do,
whereas later on some of your other ornamentation
requires the services of specialists."

"Master.... Ornamentation?"

"Yes.  You are to be in my sauna, showers, and Jacuzzi
baths most of the time.  The other masters whom I
invite to share these facilities are tired of seeing
merely naked slaves - we are after all surrounded by
them all day.  So we like our intimate servants to be
decorated.  Whilst you have a good body, well muscled,
not fat, and you are well hung, you are not so
different from hundreds of other slaves on my estates.
 When I have finished having you tattooed and banded,
you will be something special, something
extraordinary, something to intrigue and delight the
eyes of every master."

"But in order to receive this mark of my pleasure, you
are going to have to be brave.  I am going to pierce
each nipple in turn, and then fit a heavy gold ring.
It would be easy to spray a little analgesic on the
nipples before the piercing, but then I would deny you
the full experience - I want you to be fully aware
that it is I, your master, who is doing this for you.
It is I who am bestowing  this favour on you.  So any
diminution of the full experience would be denying you
part of the experience of being my slave."

With that, I picked up a long bodkin, with a
gleamingly sharp point, and a small pad of cotton
wool.  I continued  "Now lie still, control your body.
 Focus on feeling the pleasure of my body as it
continues to press against you.  As I push this bodkin
through your nipple there will be a sharp pain as the
point first pierces the skin, and it will intensify
slightly as the instrument goes through and emerges
the other side.  I will also need to move it around
slightly, to 'ream out' a suitably sized hole.  It is
important that you do not move, as it is easy at this
stage to tear the flesh of the nipple totally.  If
that happens, you cannot have nipple rings installed,
and your value to me as a slave will be reduced."

Without giving the slave time to say anything, I
pressed the cotton pad to one side of his left nipple,
then speared him with the bodkin.   He did flinch a
little, and cried out momentarily.  But I could tell
from the tension in his body and the way that his jaws
were clamped rigidly shut that he as using all  his
training to keep himself under control.

"Good, slave.  Now I am going to install the ring.  I
know that some Western men now wear nipple rings as
fashion items, but these are small and do not weigh
much.  Consequently the rings can be of quite a fine
gauge and can slip around when inserted - I have had a
Westerner who I picked up in a bar on a trip to
London, and it was indeed amusing to lie there with
him and roll the ring around and around through him.
But the ones I am going to bestow on you are different
- they are two inches in diameter, and heavy."

"To make them look properly proportioned, they are
made of very thick gold wire.  The size of the wire is
such that it cannot go through your nipple - even big,
fat nipples like yours - as there would not be enough
flesh on either side to prevent tearing.  Consequently
they are made like those fashionable large hooped
earrings you see people wearing - the actual part
through the flesh is finer than the main part.  There
is the disadvantage that the rings cannot then be
moved through the nipples, but on balance I think
that's a small price to pay for the additional visual
pleasure they bring me."

I like to explain this to the slaves I work on, as I
think it helps to calm them.  Of course there's no
reason why a master shouldn't do anything he likes to
a slave, with no need to explain anything.  But then I
find the slave is unnecessarily tense, and things that
are only mildly painful or unpleasant can turn into
real struggles because of the slave's apprehension.
That's all right if you are initially 'breaking'
slaves, as apprehension can make mild punishments seem
to be much more severe.  But when you are doing
delicate things to really quite valuable slave flesh,
you really don't want to take unnecessary risks of the
slaves panicking and damaging themselves.  So I have
found that this commentary on what' going on is in my
best interests.

"So now I am pushing the thin wire through the hole I
made, putting a drop of super glue on the end of it,
and pushing it into the hollow on the other end of the
currently open ring - what a marvellous invention
super glue is - one of the benefits the Americans
brought to the world.  It has made the attachment of
ornaments, collars, shackles, and almost everything
else to the slave's body so much easier."

"It used to be so messy when every time you wanted to
put a new collar on a slave you had to get a skilled
welder and make all those complicated arrangements to
prevent the slave's neck being burned.  Now the two
halves of the collar can simply be glued together, and
the job is done in a trice!  It also means that the
collars can be so much tighter, as you can have them
pushed right into the skin - impossible when they were
being welded.  I really must remember to write to the
manufacturers and complement hem on producing such an
excellent product. I might even allow them to quote me
in their advertisements."

"And now finally I take these shaped pliers and
squeeze the two ends together into a perfect circle,
and that's one done!"

Before I started his right nipple I again caressed,
stroked and kissed the slave to reassure and calm him.

The second one proceeded just the same as the first,
and then I said to the slave

"Get up now, and let me see how you look"

He stood there in front of me, the two heavy rings
dragging his otherwise pert nipples down slightly.
Truly excellent!

"Listen carefully, slave.  There is some tiny movement
possible in those rings, and all through the night I
ant you to exercise them slightly as the nipple tries
to heel, to keep them as free as possible - I do not
want unsightly scabs or scar tissue forming.  It will
hurt, but only a little."

"And as soon as you wake in the morning, I want you to
start your exercising.  You will find it more
difficult than normal, as the motion of your body will
cause the rings to flop up and down, which will cause
you unpleasant sensations in your nipples.  But big
rings like this have two purposes - to cause me visual
pleasure, as I have mentioned, and to constantly
remind you of your slavery.  Every time you move those
rings will move;  they will tug at your nipples, and
slap against your pecs.  You will be constantly
reminded that I fitted these rings to you, and that
you are my slave."

"Now, I am going home to bed.  Sleep well, slave,
because tomorrow I am going to bring an expert to
perform the next part of your decoration.  This will
be the first person other than me that you have seen
since you came here, and I expect you to exhibit
proper slave behaviour at all times - although the man
is only an artisan, you would not wish to shame your
master by acting in such a way that he would see that
I have not got my slave properly trained, would you?"

"No, master".

"Well, good night, then."

End Of Part 7.