Date: Sun, 3 Feb 2002 04:56:47 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Training The Marine, part 5

TRAINING THE MARINE - Part 5

By Pete Brown.  petebrownuk @ yahoo.com


It was good to be home, but the necessary cares and
responsibilities of running my global enterprise kept
me out of the basement for at least two hours after my
arrival, and I was seething with impatience to compile
the necessary meetings, reviews, and signing of
important documents that only I could do.

At last I was free, and felt the stomach-churning
wrench as my elevator dropped me at full speed down
into the lowest basement.  When I opened the door, it
was gratifying to see the slave at once fall to his
knees and touch the floor with his forehead - he
really did seem to have been learning his lessons
well.

After I had made myself comfortable on my couch and
had told the slave he might stand at be at rest, I
informed him of how pleased I was with  his progress.

"I particularly liked the way that you were able to
relate to those Roman soldiers in 'Sebastiane' ", I
told him.  "Did you not think that it was good that
they were totally free and unashamed with each other?
Do you now wish that you had been able to be the same
way with your comrades?"

"Master, I don't want to anger you... But I do not
believe I could be like that.  And especially not with
the men with whom I had to share a barracks."

"Well, we will see.  Only a very short time ago you
would not have masturbated in front of another man, or
pissed or crapped with others watching.  You would not
have shaved your genitals, and then walked proudly
nude, displaying them for your master's pleasure.
There are still several more stages on your journey to
slavedom.  Are you ready to start the next one, or are
we to once again go through a tedious process of
punishment until you do agree?"

I could see the slave looking very apprehensive....
Then he said, very hesitantly

"Master, could you tell me what comes next?"

"Why, slave?  Would it make a difference as to whether
you submitted or not?  You must know that sooner or
later you will submit, so what possible difference can
it make to you?"

"Master... I'm sorry....  I don't know.... "

I could see that he was plainly confused, and that the
inexorable weight of my logic was getting to him.  He
was going to submit, and there was no need for me to
explain anything.  But I was pleased with him for the
way he had behaved during my four day trip, and wanted
to show him that good behaviour resulted in my
pleasure.  So I said, calmly and quietly, so as not to
alarm him

"The next step in slavery is for you to be marked as
my property.  Were you to escape at the moment, you
would of course be captured as it is easy for our
police and our citizens to spot slaves:  you are too
different from us in appearance and general manner, so
you stand out even in a crowd.  And there are no
'sympathetic' people here to help you - any runaway
slave is always promptly reported to the authorities
and quickly recaptured.  Our geography makes it
impossible for you to leave the country without help -
from an airline, or a truck driver, or some similar
means of transport - and this is never forthcoming."

"But after recapture, the police would need to know to
whom you belonged, so that I could be informed of your
execution and could write your cost off as a loss in
my books - I have warned you, have I not, that the
automatic penalty for escape is death?".

"Yes, master."

"Well, then, you need to be marked.  You need to carry
my company's house mark on your flesh, so that you are
always clearly identified as my property.  All my
property is always marked - my company logo appears on
everything I own - my aeroplanes, cars, office
equipment, the stationary used in my offices....
Everything."

"So now you understand that it is just a natural part
of being a slave, I assume there will be no more
silliness and I can proceed to do it now."

Without giving him time to think, I at once went over
to the cupboard where I kept all the instruments that
I needed for taming, and got out the front part of my
portable pillory.  This is just the standard set of
two bars, hinged at one end and shaped to hold the
neck and wrists, and with provision for clamping the
other end so that once on, the slave cannot remove it.
 The only difference between the apparatus I was using
and a conventional wooden model was that mine was in
stainless steel, to match the bars of the cage, and it
did not have a supporting post - two clamps at either
end of the bar could fix the pillory securely to the
bars of the cage.

I saw the slave looking, and passed the apparatus
through the bars to him.

"Come over to the bars and stand with your back to
them - I need to take off that slave collar you have
been wearing so far", I commanded.

He did, and I unlocked the thick leather that he had
been wearing since he came to me.  Almost reflexively,
he reached up with his hands to massage his neck and
gave it a couple of shakes, enjoying the freedom from
the collar.  It's actually quite heavy, and being both
wide and thick, the slave finds that his head movement
is restricted and does not feel "normal" - it's not
really uncomfortable or chafing, as you don't want to
risk damage to the slave, but it does serve as a
constant reminder to him of his lowly position.

I watched until he was steady, then, pointing at the
bars of the pillory apparatus, said

"I'm sure you can see what you are supposed to do -
open this up, put it around your neck and wrists.
Then approach the bars so that I can lock the free
end", I said in a normal tone, as if this was
something that any man would do any day.

With a resigned shrug, as if to say "why not", the
slave did.  I locked the free end, so his neck and
wrists were held immovably, then told him to stand
facing the bars and bend forwards slightly.  The
pillory bar was then against the cage bars, with the
slave's head and wrists poking through them.  I
quickly used the clamps to hold the two ends of the
pillory bar to the cage bars, so the slave was now
stuck there until I chose to release him.

I left him standing more or less upright whilst I got
out the second part of the apparatus - a simple cross
bar, supported on two light trestles.  I unlocked the
cage and carried these in.

It was of course now safe to approach the slave, as
although he could kick out at me, his arms were
immobile and there was little real danger - it's not
easy to kick backwards anyway.

Standing to one side, I pushed his head and shoulders
downwards, until his back was horizontal.  I was
almost hoping that he might resist, as I had intended
to grasp his nipples and pull him down by them,  but
the firm but steady pressure of my hand on the nape of
his neck was all that was necessary to get him to bend
voluntarily.  As soon as I was happy with his
position, I tightened the clamps holding the pillory
bar to the bars of the cage, so he could not now move
from that level at all.

This was the first time that I had been able to get my
hands on his back and his arse, as before when I had
inspected him these were hard up against the bars of
the cage, as he was tied to it.   I always like to see
the actual vertebrae of the backbone standing out
slightly from the flesh, and for a slave to have a
definite "channel" in the backbone just before it
merges with the ass crack, and this slave was almost
perfect in both these respects.

I mused that here were so many things that I liked
about this slave's body that it was sheer serendipity
when I saw him in the market that first day - I could
have searched for many months had I been consciously
looking for a slave with the combination of all the
things that I found desirable in this one.   I ran my
hands along his back, and down his sides.  Then
allowed myself to feel his hard, muscular buttocks and
continue my inspection by running my hands down his
flanks.  It was good that he stood perfectly still
during this examination, and did not shuffle or
twitch, or try to move his body away from my hands
(however futile such a thing might have been).

Everything seemed right - good, taught muscle
definition, but nothing overdeveloped, to excess.  I
had seen from the video monitor whilst I was away that
he had continued to exercise, and I assumed that
having gained a high level of fitness in the marines'
training programme, he himself did not want to lose it
- and that happened to coincide perfectly with my own
requirements for him.

Still, there was work to be done, and there would be
time enough later to enjoy his body in more detail - I
needed to be out of here tonight relatively quickly,
as I had a dinner engagement.

But I could not resist two more quick inspections -
his balls were hanging down invitingly between his
thighs, so I pushed his legs a little wider apart so
that I could gain free access to them.  I'm sure you
find the same thing as I do - somehow the balls, when
fondled from the rear, feel quite different from when
you do it from the front.  And of course since the
last time I had felt his balls, he had shaved them
clean.  That makes such a difference, I find - you
really cannot appreciate the hard-shading-to-soft
texture of the testicles themselves inside that
sensuous, silky sac when the whole thing is covered in
hair!   His balls were even nicer now to the touch
than they were before, and I felt my prick stirring in
anticipation of the day when, fully trained, I could
have unrestrained access to him any time I wanted.

If you're going to look at a slave's arse you can of
course make a visual inspection by pulling his ass
cheeks apart, which is what I did.  But for a probe to
test his  sphincter with a finger, you really need
another pair of hands to hold then apart whilst you do
it.  So I knew that my probing was not going to be
totally satisfactory, as you cannot get the whole of
your finger up his rectum with his ass cheeks in the
way.  But I could tell by the way he grunted as I
pushed in with the top couple of joints of my middle
finger that he was not used to this, and was
undoubtedly a virgin.   He promised great delights for
the future.

I contemplated using both hands to hold his ass cheeks
and simply going ahead there and then with forcing my
cock up his lovely ass, but restrained myself: the
time was not right, and I wanted the slave to be
properly prepared and ready to accept this as the
final part of his subjugation.  In any case, I
remembered the marine lieutenant who I had fucked such
a short time ago - I really did not like all that shit
on my member after I had done.  I always have my bed
slaves thoroughly cleaned out before they come to me,
as is the practice that everyone I know adopts with
their slaves (except for a man, hardly a friend, who
is a bit of a laughing stock to the rest of us because
he actually enjoys excrement!), and I decided to wait
until after this slave had learned how to administer
enemas to himself.

Putting the two trestles on either side of him, I
slipped the cross bar under his belly and clamped it
to the trestles firmly.  A strong elastic tie around
his waist then held him firmly to that bar, and I also
tied his ankles to the trestle legs.  He was then
relatively immobile and could not easily move his ass
or legs.

The first time I had tried branding a slave myself I
had thought that holding his neck and arms firmly, as
the pillory bar did, would be enough.  But the slave's
bucking and thrashing can be so violent as the
white-hot branding iron burns into him that not only
does it make it difficult to keep the iron pressed in
firmly, which ruins the clarity of the brand, but you
run the risk of him damaging his neck muscles - a
permanently paralysed slave is no use to anyone, after
all.   Using the rear bar and trestles in this way
obviates this problem, as the ass is held securely and
violent movement is much reduced.

I left the cage and went to my cupboard, got the
electric branding iron out and plugged it in.  I know
it's not "traditional", but all that messing around
with braziers full of charcoal is much too much
trouble, and anyway you really need another slave to
be there to keep blowing on it and maintaining it at
high temperature.  It is undoubtedly more theatrical,
and part of this, is, after all, to emphasise to the
slave that he is being permanently marked as your
property.  As an interim measure, I had tried using a
small portable gas burner to heat the iron, but you
have to keep concentrating on it and if you're not
careful, the iron gets hotter on one side than on the
other and again you do not get a perfectly uniform,
clear, sharp brand.

All in all, whilst it lacks some of the "theatre" of
other methods, and electric iron is so much more
satisfactory.  The latest model that I had only takes
about five minutes to get up to full heat, and the
special alloy of which it is composed glows very
satisfactorily white with the heat, and retains enough
of it to enable you to unplug the cord and just carry
the iron to the slave, so avoiding the risk of
accidents.

Whilst I was waiting for the iron to heat, I explained
to the slave what was about to happen.

"I have all my slaves marked on the left ass cheek.
It will be extremely painful for you, and there's no
shame in crying and shrieking in agony as the iron
bites - every slave does, so no mock heroics and
'marines don't complain'.  There are only the two of
us here, and no one else will know you cried and raged
- but even if there were, if they were slaves they
would understand, having undergone the same thing
themselves."

"You will feel the initial searing shock as the iron
touches the skin.  Don't worry about the smell of
burning meat - it will be you!  I have to hold the
iron in place for a few seconds to ensure the scarring
goes right through the top few layers of flesh: If you
were to get only a surface burn, it would not last and
we'd have to start again.  So the initial pain will be
replaced by an all-consuming slam of pain that will
take over your mind totally, but it will pass, to some
extent, as soon as I remove the iron from you."

"You may pass out - a lot of slaves do.  And you may
be unable to stop your bowels evacuating, and you may
piss involuntarily.  But don't worry about that,  as
it's quite normal as a primeval reaction of the body
to extreme pain:  the floor here is just concrete, as
you know, and you will easily be able to clean it up
afterwards."

"Just remember that you are being honoured - I, your
master, am marking you personally.  Most slaves are
just branded on my breeding farm, or when they arrive
from the merchants, quite impersonally by one of my
slave handlers.  But you are going to be a personal
servant of mine, and we will always have this between
us:  you will always remember that it is me that
branded you, and I will always remember seeing your
flesh seer as I push home the iron, and the reaction
of your body as I do it.  I find it is a unique bond
between a master and a slave - some really important
experience they both share."

I could see now that the iron was glowing white, so I
snapped out the cord, picked it up by the insulated
handle, walked swiftly into the cage, positioned my
self properly, and pushed it into his ass in the
position I prefer - not right at the back, but more
around to the side, under the hip bone.  Once the iron
is up to heat I think it's kinder to the slave just to
come and do it like that, straight away, rather than
standing around and generally fiddling about - it
saves him a lot of unnecessary worry.

I think he thought that he wouldn't scream, but they
all do!  It's just too intense a pain, and it goes on
for too long.  But, to his credit, he held his
sphincters closed.  Afterwards, as he continued to sob
and moan, I could see all the muscles all over his
body trying to jerk and pull to try and bring his body
some relief - as I said, using the rear tie-down with
the trestles really is essential.

In my experience you really need to leave the brand
completely exposed to the air for at least an hour
without touching it at all if you are to get the nice
crisp edge I like after the scabs have dropped off.
Some masters make the mistake of immediately dowsing
the site in icy cold water, as you would do for a burn
or scald, or even rubbing in analgesic cream
immediately.  Of course I use the analgesic cream in
due course, as I'm not gratuitously cruel to slaves,
but used too soon it can spoil the crisp lines you're
aiming for.

I had an American friend (who had been up at Cambridge
with me, and who is now a successful corporate banker)
staying with me once and we were at my estate just as
a new batch of slaves was being branded.  I thought he
would be interested in seeing this aspect of slave
management, and I even let him have a go for himself
on some of the cheaper slaves destined only for the
work gangs.  That night, as we lay together in bed
discussing the day, he asked me why we don't simply
anaesthetise the slaves before branding them, and so
avoid all the shouting, and  the general mess from the
ones who can't help shitting.  It was of course only a
question that a man not used to the complete control
of slaves could ask:  it's perfectly clear to any one
with any knowledge of slavery that the slave must be
fully aware of what's going on, and that the pain
forms a vital part of the experience:  it emphasises
to the slave just what a master could have done to him
if the master chose.

Anyway,  I had work to do!  I didn't want to sit and
hear the slave moaning and groaning for an hour or
two, so I prepared to leave.  But I went around to the
front, and gently cupped his head in my hands.  I
explained that I would be back later, and that he
could endure the pain - all slaves did, after all.  I
couldn't resist just lightly ruffling the stubble of
hair on his head, and rubbing my thumbs behind his
ears - my western readers probably know how a pet dog
or cat likes these little attentions, and I always
think that slaves do, too.

I'd only meant for him to endure the pain for about an
hour, but unfortunately the cocktail party that I was
attending went on a bit - or, rather, I found several
important people who I really did need to speak to -
so it was three hours later before I could return to
the marine.  But I didn't waste any time - I at once
massaged analgesic cream into his ass, and it was only
a few more minutes before he could stop that dreadful
moaning that he was doing.

I released him from the ties holding him to the cross
bar and trestles, and removed them from the cage.
Then going out and locking the cage door behind me, I
released the yoke cross piece from the cage bars, so
that he could stand upright once more.  He bent and
stretched,  to relieve the tension in his muscles, and
I enjoyed seeing the power of his belly muscles as
they strained a little to raise and lower his torso
that was having to carry the heavy pillory bars.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to stay like that for
tonight, slave", I said as cheerily as I could.  "I
find that slaves can't be trusted not to pick at the
scarring on their brands, and that can spoil it.  So
it's better for you to have your hands kept securely
out of harm's way."

"But can I trust you not to rub your ass against the
floor?   Normally I would keep a slave pilloried to
avoid this, but I may be a little late tomorrow
morning as I have a breakfast meeting with the
American ambassador, and I don't want to keep you in a
very uncomfortable position longer than necessary."

"So do you think that your marine training and self
discipline can keep you from rubbing yourself against
the walls or floor?  If not, say so - there's nothing
to be ashamed of, as you're no longer a marine, and
slaves are often weak willed."

"No, master, I will survive!"

"Good.  It's one of the reasons I choose to have
'wild' slaves broken to be my personal servants - I
like their spirit!"

Because his hands were immobile I had to feed him his
biscuits one by one, and then I allowed him to tell me
how the shower temperature should be adjusted to give
him the least problems that night.

All in all, a most successful outcome,  I thought as I
went up in the elevator to be driven home.

The following morning I did of course go to visit him
before I went up to my office.  I could have taken his
yoke off immediately, but instead chose to use the
excuse of his hands being immobile to rub more of the
analgesic ointment into his naked ass - I still felt a
thrill of excitement at the feel of his body (which is
somewhat unusual for me, as I have handled hundreds of
men in my time).  I was a little concerned at entering
his cage whilst he was untethered, but considered it
was only a marginal risk as short of battering me with
the yoke, he was unlikely to be able to do me serious
harm if he attacked me - I was of course still not
prepared to venture close to him when his hands were
unrestrained.

I didn't want to keep him restrained longer than
necessary, so as soon as I had finished the sensual
rub I left his cage, locked the door, then called him
close to the bars so I could unlock the yoke and
withdraw it to my side of the bars.

I had decided that he should, for the time being,
always eat from my hand as it emphasised our
respective positions, so I fed him.

"I trust the pain is subsiding a little, slave?"

"Yes, master. You did not need to put additional
ointment on me, as I can bear it.  A marine needs to
be able to control his body and master pain, as you
never know when you will get injured and be out of
range of a medic when you're on active duty."

"Very commendable, I'm sure!  But I want you really
fit as soon as possible - I'm glad you have been
exercising, and I want you to continue that.  Now, I
have important matters to attend to today, but I will
visit you later."

At odd times during the day I used my desktop PC to
view the slave, and, indeed, he did seem to be
recovering extraordinarily well:  he was running on
the spot, pushing against the walls, doing "jumping
jacks" and trunk curls, and several other exercises
that a fit, active man can do without the need for
complex apparatus.  As I went down in the elevator
that night, I wondered how to proceed:  I really did
want to move on to the next stage of his acceptance of
me as his total master, but, equally, I was a bit
concerned that his recovery was too quick:  perhaps he
really was in acute pain and was "manfully" trying to
conceal it in the mistaken belief that that's what
"real" men did.

I decided to incline towards caution, and after I had
fed him that night and had him stand close to the bars
so that I could inspect his brand and ensure it was
not becoming infected, I just sat on my couch and said
we would watch TV together.

After all the "historical" films I had shown him about
slavery and good man-to-man relationships, I had
decided it was time to move on to prepare him mentally
for what was to come next.  One of my many
subsidiaries is a company that makes industrial
training films that are used by over 350 of the
Fortune 500.  I had some time ago commissioned them -
somewhat to the surprise of the producer in charge,
who had no idea that slaves needed training just as
much as office workers - to make a series of videos
for showing to the newly enslaved.  I had found that
it's truly amazing how many new slaves had absolutely
no idea of what was actually involved in sex with
another man - they had vague ideas and had heard
rumours, but the actual mechanics of the process
completely eluded them.  It's just as if  straight men
say "it would be disgusting" and then take no steps to
actually find out what it's all about really.

So the series of instructional videos starts at the
simple lessons about how to masturbate another man for
his maximum pleasure (it's easy to do yourself,  as we
all know.  But there is an art to masturbating another
guy to make sure the experience is actually better for
him than doing it himself would be.  Part of the
problem is that by the time most men experience
another man's hand on their cocks, they're so used to
their own that even the most skilled manipulator has a
job competing!).  The lessons proceed through the art
of sucking another cock well (with tips on how to
avoid gagging if a particularly long and succulent one
is thrust down your throat), through rimming and
general anal manipulation, and on to fucking.  The
second series is for partially trained slaves, and
concentrates on making the most of the four major
positions for fucking.

To save time, and because I was going to watch them
along with the slave, I went straight to the second
series.  After we had watched the first video
together, he was unnaturally still and quiet.  By the
end of the evening, he looked distinctly worried and
seemed bursting to say something - although he knew by
now that slaves were not allowed to initiate
conversation with their master.

I decided to allow him relief.  "So, slave, you think
you know it all now, do you?" I asked.

"Master...  Am I going to have to do that to you?"

I couldn't help roaring with laughter at the sheer
unexpectedness of the question.

"Certainly not! I only use slaves as receptacles for
my cock.  I wanted you to see these videos so that you
understood how to position your body to take me inside
you, as and when I decide that I want to."

"You mean I'm going to be fucked.....?"

"Yes, of course.  What on earth do you think I have
slaves in my bath suite and bed chamber for?"

He remained silent after that, and whilst I had got
used to seeing him blush as I made him perform some
new act for the first time, on this occasion he seemed
to have gone pale.

It didn't matter, or course, as when I decided to fuck
him, he would have little choice.  But I did need to
move him on a little, and wanted to give him something
to think about over night.

So I told him I wanted to see him masturbate before I
left him, and he obediently knelt down by the bars and
jerked himself off.  He was used to catching his cum
by now, and in response to my nod giving him approval
to do so, licked his palm and fingers clean of his
ejaculation.

I did not give him permission to move, so he remained
kneeling there.  I stood up, and freeing the clasps,
stepped out of my robes.

As I said, I am an impressive man.  And to the slave,
it must have been quite overpowering to see me naked
in front of him that first time.  I have about four
inches in height over him at the best of times, and I
was now standing and he was kneeling.  I'm much
thicker-set than his muscled, but still slighter,
body.  And as I have said, I'm much better hung than
over 95% of men, and certainly my cock was larger than
his (even though he was above average for men of his
size).

I deliberately stretched, quite casually, and
scratched my pits and then my pubes in an extremely
careless and comfortable way.  I wanted the slave to
know that I was totally at ease with being naked in
front of him, and was prepared to do anything - I've
lived with slaves all my life, and know that a master
carries his own privacy within himself that is not
dependent on whether a slave is looking at him, or
not.

Ideally I  wanted him to suck me off, but the time was
not yet right.  I was still concerned that he might do
something foolish like attempt to bite my member if I
put it between his lips.  It would also be good to
have him caress and fondle my cock, prior to
masturbating me, but again I did not want to give him
the opportunity of having his extremely powerful hands
in contact with any part of my body.

"Reach through the bars, and stretch your arms out to
their fullest extent", I commanded him.  "Then cup
your hands."

He did as he was told, I'm glad to say.

I walked forward a couple of paces so that I was just
out of reach of his hands, then started to masturbate
myself.   It's really tedious, of course, and I
haven't jerked myself off since I was a lad - there's
always a ready supply of slaves to do it, or to suck
me, or to be taken up the ass, if I need.  And even
when I do choose to be masturbated, it's usually lying
down, or reclining in a chair, or seated at my office
desk during some interminably tedious meeting.   It's
actually quite difficult to jerk yourself off whilst
standing, and the backs of your knees tend to make
themselves felt as you naturally thrust your groin
forwards.

But it was probably the novelty of the experience for
me that forced matters along, and very quickly I shot
a very large load of my thick white semen in to the
slave's waiting hands.

I stood there looking at him, then said "You may eat
that, slave, and clean your hands, just as you did for
your own emission.  Be very careful not to allow any
of your master's seed to fall as you have to unclasp
your hands to get them back through the bars!"

I thought he was going to disobey me, but the general
feeling of submission I had got from him was correct,
and he slowly - perhaps a little too slowly - a slave
should after all be pleased to get the opportunity to
eat his master's most precious fluid - withdrew his
hands.

His tongue licked suspiciously at my semen at first,
but he did in the end clean his hands properly.

He looked upset, mind you, so I encouraged him:
"Good, slave.  You have done well.  Tomorrow we can
move on!"

I left for the night, leaving the instructional series
re-playing on the TV so that he would have an
opportunity of studying it again before sleeping.

End of part 5