Chapter 47.
So anyway, as I was saying, Bobby brought me to the Club tonight for my weekly punishment session. The weather was nice so he had me strip in the car and brought me into the club naked, collared and chained, wrists and ankles with only 2 feet between them so I had to walk like come kind of prisoner being brought into trial. As soon as we got inside some of the regulars knew what was up. They said hello to Bobby but ignored me. I kept my head lowered and my eyes on the ground—always like that when I'm going to be punished. Not allowed to look at anyone's face. Not allowed to speak.
Sometimes Bobby spits water into my mouth and that's the only way I get to drink, usually, unless I'm alone. A couple of twink subs are fascinated by this and keep watching to see what happens next.
He leads me to the spanking bench. I know what to do. I mount it, arms over my head. Bobby clips the chains to the ends of the bench so I'm spread out with my ass in the air. He also clips my collar to a ring on the bench so I have very little range of motion. His friend Carl comes over and Bobby asks him to go get the prison strap—this thickest of all. "What's the slave being punished for?" Carl asks. "Neglecting school work and bombed a quiz," Bobby tell him and the guys gathered around to watch.
I'm one of the few subs who gets punished for specific things every week so there's a particular kind of theatrical value to the experience. A couple newbies can't help but stroke their dicks through their pants as they gather round to watch. The thought that some guys will actually get off watching me be punished turns me on. Even thought I'm scared of the pain to come, I'm further humbled because everyone around us knows that my Master brings me here to be punished for real, not just as part of some BDSM act. Besides, no one ever gets the prison strap for fun.
I wonder if a strap like this is really used any more in prisons. I've seen it in films but they always seemed contrived. Nothing contrived about this scene. Bobby speaks loud enough for everyone to hear. "I believe in corporal punishment," he tells the group. "There's no better way to form a slave's behavior and attitude. It's quick and it's effective. I don't think this slave will neglect its school work after it feels the weight of this strap biting into its flesh. That's the point."
He runs his hand through my hair affectionately then pats me on the back before sitting himself down on a stool where he can get a clear view of my facial expressions as the twenty lashes are laid across my bottom and upper legs.
"Look at the fear in the slave's eyes," Bobby announces to the assembled onlookers as he's sitting there at my head. "This is not a demonstration. This is not a scene. This is real punishment. This naked boy is my slave. He (he doesn't say "it" because some of the guys there might not grasp what he's doing) has been slacking off on his schoolwork and received a low grade in a recent quiz. I am paying for this slave's education. I am not pleased that this slave has been so unappreciative and thought he could stop working so hard. So I repeat. This slave is being really punished. I mean, `punished in real life.' I know from experience that when this slave is punished like this, it's behavior quickly improves."
Carl hands Bobby the strap. Bobby speaks again, showing the strap around. "This is what is known as a prison strap. It is heavy and thick. It can reduce a hardened criminal to tears. My slave will receive twenty lashes. Since this is true punishment, it has no right to use any safe words to get the punishment to stop. Any protests on its part will be punished in other ways during the week." He hands the strap to Carl and sits down again where he can see my face. He nods to Carl.
The first lash lands on my ass and I hear gasps as I grit my eyes shut from the pain. Damn. This is so much worse than a tawse or army belt. It's so, um, heavy, I guess. Not only is there the burn setting my ass on fire, but it also feels like there's a thud, like I'm being beaten with a hard object. The second lash lands a lot lower, almost on my sit spot, and I'm grateful it wasn't laid over the first lash. It's a different kind of sting down that low, almost like a bolt of lightening.
I can't say more about each lash because by the fourth lash my mind had stopped thinking words and all my attention was focused on the pain Bobby was giving me. I'm crying halfway through, I think, and I know that the last three lashes had me screaming our "I'm sorry, Master. I'm sorry, Master." Bobby requires me to say that after a whipping, but it also comes from deep within me. I'm really ashamed of having let him down. I had had plenty of time to finish reading, but I wasted too much time fucking around on Facebook. More about FB later.
Bobby still sits and watches as I sob out the agony of the beating. This was real punishment. And the pain didn't turn into pleasure like it does when I'm flogged sometimes. I know that I'll be sore all week, and probably black and blue all over because the strap was so heavy. I want you to understand that I really was punished this time. Sure, my inner pervert is throbbing just because Bobby has so much power over me that he could have me punished this way.
I'm still making tears when I feel myself being released from the spanking bench. As soon as everything's unclipped I get down on the ground as quickly as possible then kneel up and crawl my way over to Carl, whose hard cock is sticking up in the air hard and leaking. "Lick up what leaked on the floor," he commands me. I bow down and lick. This really gets me ready to make homage to his hard cock. I've sucked him off before, so I know a lot about his dick, how it leans up, how the veins on its side throb right before he cums. It's hard to get it all the way down my throat not because it's too big but because the angle makes it impossible. Carl doesn't care, though. I put my hand to his dick and work it with both my hand and my mouth. "That's right, faggot. Show my how grateful you are that I whipped your ass," says Carl, and of course, that makes the whole experience that much hotter for me.
Carl doesn't cum in my mouth this time. He pulls out. There's a blond-haired twink standing there watching this and salivating over the sight. Carl grabs the twink by the hair and gently pulls his head down until he can put his mouth around Carl's dick, and then the twink takes over. Carl has to stop twice and slap the kid's face and warn "no teeth, boy." Finally he just gives up. His cock's gone soft. He puts it away and walks somewhere away from us.
I'm still down on the ground. "Come, boy," Bobby says. I turn around and crawl to him and lay my head in his lap and I start crying again while Bobby leans over me, runs his hands through my hair and down my back and sides, then turns my head and licks my ear and whispers into it, "I own you, puppy. Don't disappoint me this way again." and I cry harder and sob `I'm sorry" into his lap, really meaning it this time.
"By the way, I'm deleting your Facebook account tomorrow morning," he tells me. "No more of that crap for you." Yet another ordinary thing he takes away from me for my own good. Yet another sign that Bobby has the power to strip me of things free boys are allowed to enjoy.
He helps me stand and leads me into a kind of dormitory where there are a dozen beds laid out and anyone can use them all out in the open. He lays on one of the beds and reaches out his hands to help me lower myself into his arms. He keeps me on top because I could never lay on my ass right now. It's still throbbing and burning and aching all at the same time. "You see what I can do to you, sweetheart?" he asks, and I nod my head onto his shoulder. He puts his lips to mine and starts making love to my mouth and I melt myself down on top of his body, feeling my naked flesh against the coarseness of the clothes he's wearing.
"I am truly your slave, Master. I love how your possess me. I love you," I say as my tears start to dry up.
"You know what, boy? Get up and kneel on the side of the bed. . . . take out my cock . . . . put it your mouth. I need to piss . . . . and I squeeze my hands on his thighs once I have the tip of his cock in my mouth. His piss starts to flow and as I keep swallowing it I remind myself that I am drinking the piss of the man who just had me severely punished as a sign of my total surrender to him. It takes a while for him to finish up with several little squirts. I know better than to take it out of my mouth before he's finished. I did that once and was bound under a cold shower for three minutes and the not allowed to dry myself. I was still shivering that night when he pushed me into the cage and locked the door. NO supper for me that night either.
And that was how he trained me to never take his cock from my mouth until he is completely finished spilling his juices into me. A lot of times I just wait until he gives he a nod or shove so I know he's really done. Hank comes over to Bobby and says, "Leon got the entire thing right up until the slave cried `I'm sorry.'" I'll send it to you. We're be using it here if that's okay with you."
"Hank, can we let it wait a while before you use it? It's so extreme people will think it was staged. "
"No problem, buddy. You know that. I'll just keep in storage. Are you going to post it online?"
"No. Never," says Bobby.
Hank pats him on the back and gets up to go into another room. Bobby picks me up off the floor. "I don't think I want anyone seeing you beaten so badly. That's just for now." As usually, Bobby makes decisions based on what is best for me or what risks being harmful. As for me, I don't think I'll ever want to watch it myself. The pain is driving me out of my mind.
Bobby has to help me walk to the car and then helps me get in and lie on the back seat on my stomach. When we get home he gives me a pill to take and uses soothing cream on my sore flesh. I wish I could say I fell asleep, but I can't. The pain is still too great.
When he realizes that I can't sleep, he goes and gets my journal and a pen. He has me kneel at the side of the bed again and hands me the journal. "Write. Write how it feels. Write what you're thinking." Bobby insists I keep a journal and write in it when he tells me to. He never comments on what I write, but I'm pretty sure that he reads all of it. I guess he feels that if he doesn't speak about it, it's still confidential. Or whatever. I don't know for sure. I take the pen and write.
"Got the prison strap tonight. Worst of all. 15/10, that bad. Hurt, hurt, hurt. Quick thought of running away but no. not doing that. I'm his slave. He really proved it tonight. Me screaming and crying and two twinks jerking their meat. true slave. yes, it's what I am. yes, it's what I want. but only for Bobby. Then he gives me kisses and spits and piss and touches me in ways that give me pleasure. Hating Carl right now, and his weird pointed dick. Will be sore all week. Make me think of Bobby."
"finished," I report.
Bobby looks it over, much to my surprise. He hands it back to me. "You didn't say anything about having to lick up Carl's precum from the floor."
I add to the entry. "Carl's dick leaked onto the floor and he ordered me to bow down an lick it up. Very yucky and made me feel like absolute scum, the lowest of the low. Considering how I'd just been punished, my only wish is to please my Master by surrendering to such public humiliation."
I finish, hoping bobby will find it acceptable. But this time he doesn't even read it. He just puts the journal away. When he comes back, he has the chain with the heavy lock. He wraps it round my neck right over the leather one and locks it closed pretty tight. Makes me hang my head low.
"You're a good slaveboy and I love you," he says to me, kissing me on the back of my head. I reach my arms up and he helps me back up on the bed and lets me lay in his arms. I'm so relieved that he'll be holding me. "If you move around too much and wake me up, I'll cage you, slave," he says to me, kissing me on the forehead.
He's quickly asleep. I lie there in his arms and this incredible feeling comes over me, a feeling of how utterly he rules me. How totally he possesses me and takes away all my rights as a human person. As he tells me sometimes when he's in a really horny mood, I'm less than a true human. There's probably no one in this city who would consent to be punished the way I was punished tonight.
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Here are the other stories I have posted, with the dates where you can find them:
The first five should be read in order:
The Alex Chronicles 9/25/2022 Sweet Subjugation 1/15/2023 Brandon's Bosses 4/3/2023 Brandon's Brothers 5/19/2023 Total Subjugation 5/25/2023
These stories are stand-alone
Tommy Loves His Sub 8/17/2023 Training Toby 12/31/2023 Breaking Me In (in progress)