Traditional Values
By Randall Austin
PART SEVEN
This story is erotic fiction meant for mature readers and should only be read by adults over the age of eighteen years old. Please do not use my stories without my permission and please forward all comments to randallaustin2011@hotmail.com
Randall Austin's Archive Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Randall_Austin_Stories
Bradley, wearing nothing but a pair of social servant training shoes, ankle cuffs with attached training paddles, social servant collar, and his cock lock or infibulation bar, stood naked in front of everyone. As Jason and Hubert came towards Bradley, he covered his privates. Jason smiled at Bradley's modesty, patted Hubert, his big German Shepherd, on the head, and gave Bradley some instructions. "Hubert is going to be helping us keep tabs on you today. He will be monitoring and controlling you today, so he needs to get a scent identification on you. I want you to squat down on your haunches and put your hands in back of your head so Hubert can sniff your arm pits and balls."
Bradley, hesitant, frowned. Jason placed his training whip on Bradley's right shoulder and that offered the encouragement he needed to squat down. When he put his hands in back of his head, Hubert came over. Because Bradley was squatting on his haunches, his knees were spread wide, and his dangling sex unit was very exposed. Jason gave a command to Hubert and Hubert barked, and immediately starting sniffing Bradley's armpits. After checking out both pits he put his snout to Bradley's cock, and then poked underneath with his snout to the area in back of his balls. Bradley let out a worried moan, and Jason told him to be quiet and remain still and let Hubert check him out. "He won't hurt you unless you resist." Hubert then did a quick lick of Bradley's balls and Bradley let out a nervous moan. When Hubert had gathered the information he needed he backed away and looked up at Jason and barked.
Jason complimented the dog. "Good boy, Hubert! Good boy. This is Bradley, and you are in charge of Bradley today. Have you got that, Hubert?" Hubert gave three happy barks. "Good boy!" Then addressing everyone Jason gave some background. "Hubert was the dog I was assigned to for five years at Social Services in Addison County. He's helped me train hundreds of social servants. When he was retired, I just knew Hubert and me belonged together. We're the best of friends." Everyone smiled and complimented Hubert. Everyone except Bradley who stood up from the uncomfortable crouching position he was in.
While everyone was still focused on Hubert, and before anyone knew what had happened, Jason gave a fierce stroke of his training whip across Bradley's back, who was thrown into such pain and shock that he stumbled into a kneeling position, and had to quickly put out his arms to stop himself from falling completely over. As Bradley screamed in agony Jason shouted. "Who the fuck said you could get out of position? Get back in the position you were in, right now!" When Bradley cried, "Please". Jason gave him another severe stroke of the whip across the side of his left thigh. Bradley was crying out loud as he scurried as fast as he could to get back into position on his haunches with his hands behind his back. Jason was furious. "You fucking cornhead! Why in the hell did you make me do that to you?"
Bradley just cried, and saw Jason raise the whip again. "When I ask a question, you answer it, boy!"
Bradley was quick to answer. "I didn't know. I just thought it was okay."
Jason stood in front of the squatting, sniveling, Bradley and spread his legs apart, put his arms akimbo, and still holding the coiled strap in his left hand, and the training whip in his right, said. "Let this be lesson number one; You don't do anything without permission, and you do everything I ask you to do, without hesitation. If you promise to do that, then I can put this training whip and choke strap away right now!" Bradley continued sniveling.
Alban and Quince were wide-eyed, quiet, open-mouthed, awed, breathing-heavy, and hard. So was their uncle, Steven. Everyone noticed the red, painful looking, whip marks that had formed on Bradley's back and leg.
The brutality of Jason's corrective measures, and the dramatic and unexpected authority he exhibited, which held everyone in shocked silence, were everyday occurrences to the young trainer of social servants, and he smiled, happy, as he ordered Bradley to stand up and apologize to his family for being so stupid.
Bradley was quick to begin. "I'm sorry." Jason jumped in. "No, no! That's not what I asked you to do. I told you to apologize to your family, address each of them by name, and tell them you are sorry for being such a stupid and slow learner of servant protocol. Now do it! And stop covering your sex equipment. It's no longer used for sex so you have no reason to be ashamed of it or any need to hide it. Keep your hands at your sides."
Bradley called everyone by name and apologized in the demeaning fashion he was ordered. Jason smiled widely as Bradley cringed in shame. "Okay, Bradley, that was good. What I'm going to do now is keep you busy doing some laps about the yard." Jason then addressed everyone. "What we're going to do now, and for the rest of the day, is to keep Bradley busy doing a variety of things. That's really all there is to training. If Bradley does as he's told, it will simply be a day of exercise for him. No big deal. If he's smart and has learned to obey, he'll never have to feel the whip again."
Jason conveyed a sense that the worst was over, and the family began to relax somewhat after the shocking whip strokes. And he continued to assuage their concerns. "And all the exercise he'll be doing today will be relatively easy for him, since we've got his cock locked up. That infibulation bar and ring turn social servants into human dynamos. They've got all that pent up libido that needs to be freed, and hard work and exercise are great outlets for its release. Just wait until you see him tear around this track!"
Jason grabbed Bradley's arm and pulled him towards the edge of the yard and gave him instructions on how he wanted him to jog along the outer perimeter of the back yard. "Okay, start jogging! And keep your legs spread nice and wide so your training paddles don't trip you."
Bradley stood, awkward, unsure of why he was to do what he was told. Jason was getting impatient. "Come on, I said get a move on it!" He gave Bradley a slight shove and Bradley stumbled about, almost falling into the bushes. "Is there some reason you don't want to run for us?"
Bradley got back to position but was looking to Jason to see when he should start running, but Jason took it as a sign of intransigence. "You wanna play hardball? I can do that!" He took the broad belt and put it around Bradley's upper chest; he brought the end of it through the buckle and cinched it tight, and pulled on it. The buckle was an auto-cinch, so it stayed locked in the tightest position to which it was drawn. Jason tugged on the belt to get Bradley to move. The tug was unexpected and Bradley's training paddles hit each other and he fell to the ground. "Hey dumbshit! Remember to keep your legs spread apart when you run, or have you forgotten that you're hobbled?" Bradley was stunned on the ground, and Jason started pulling him along in the grass by the belt. "Come on, get up, and start running." Bradley was dazed and couldn't easily get up as Jason dragged him through the grass. Bradley grabbed at the belt that Jason was pulling and Jason whipped both arms away from the belt. Bradley screamed and cried.
Jason pulled the fallen Bradley in a humiliating fashion through the grass, and asked. "Do I have to pull you around this track or are you going to get up and start running?" There was no response from the frantic Bradley, who was unable to collect himself to events, so Jason started flailing Bradley with the whip as he pulled him along. Bradley screamed in intense agony and in a spurt got himself off the ground and started running, awkwardly with this legs spread wide. Once he was up and running Jason stopped the whipping. In seconds the whip marks showed up clearly as red lines where he was whipped on the shoulders, back, ass, and legs. Bradley heaved and cried as he ran.
Once Bradley was moving at a regular clip, Hubert joined him and started running along side of him and slightly behind him. Jason ran along with them a little bit, and once he saw that Hubert was in control he dropped out of the run, and shouted. "Atta boy, Hubert! Keep him moving!"
Once Hubert saw that Bradley was obeying and was moving at a steady clip, he ran off a few feet away from him so he was tracking a smaller concentric route about the perimeter. That way Hubert didn't have to run as fast as Bradley to keep up with him. Each time Bradley started to slow his pace, Hubert would run towards him barking, and once he caught up would start leaping up at him and barking, as if he was threatening to bite his thighs or shins, or some dangling appendage. Each time he did that Bradley picked up his pace.
As Bradley ran about the perimeter of the yard the end of the belt that was cinched about his chest hung down to his knees, and it swung as wildly as his balls and penis did because having to run with legs spread wide made the body sway from side to side with each step. It was comical.
Jason came over to the lawn-chaired Forestman males and his smiling father, who complimented him. "Damn fine work, Jason!" Jason beamed back like a little kid. "Thanks Dad! I think we're getting there!" He poured himself a glass of iced tea, and then repeated. "Yes sir, I think we're getting there!"
Alban was more frightened, fascinated, exhilarated, and fucking hard, than he had ever been in his entire life. As Jason sat down next to Alban he kept watching Bradley trot about the yard. Bradley looked quite ridiculous running with the training paddles that forced him to keep his legs spread wide apart as he ran. But, of course, that was the idea of training paddles; to make a social servant feel so foolish and different from the rest of humanity that he wished he were invisible; to turn the social servant into such a shamed being that he will do immediately whatever he is asked to do so as to avoid having any attention whatsoever called to himself and to the humiliating way he is hobbled.
Jason shouted out a little encouragement to Bradley. "A little faster now! You're a social servant now, so swing your arms and lift your head proudly!"
Then addressing the group. "Remember, you can always outsmart a social servant and win any confrontation with humiliation and a whip. And that approach is the one that seems to be working with Bradley. He already seems broken in. I really think Bradley is not going to end up being a typical social servant who runs around with a constantly reddened butt, so typical of the species! He's too smart for that! He's going to be an 'obeyer boy'."
Jason saw Alban looking fearfully at the whip he toyed with. "Hey, little guy, don't be afraid of this thing. It looks a little scary, but a training whip with its small braid is just basically a stinger. Those whip marks decorating Bradley will be gone in a day or two. If you think this thing is awesome, wait until you see the whip out in my car I'm going to use on Bradley later today when I train him to `quick step' in full-service mode.
Alban gulped and started thinking about a scene where he was in a bedroom in a big house and a fire had engulfed the entire house, and he was in the last unburned room in the entire house. Just outside his door the raging fire consumed the wall, and carpeting. He could feel the heat outside his bedroom door. He was three stories up, too steep to go out the windows. Thick acrid smoke was starting to fill the room, and he could hardly breathe. He could feel the heat start to be unbearable, but no place to go. He prayed he would pass out before he felt a single flame singe a single one of his hairs, but suddenly he saw the walls to his bedroom first blacken, and then burst into flames. His bedroom was on fire and cinders and exploding wood bits were flying. There was no air left to breathe, and it would be seconds before the first flames grabbed him.
With his erection finally down, Alban knew from experience he had to move in haste. Typically his fire fantasy gave him about 30 seconds of erection down time. In school it gave him just enough time to reach the nearest bathroom. He excused himself hastily. "Dad, I gotta get something to eat!" He almost ran across the yard to the back door of the kitchen. Once in the house, his dick started rising as he made his way upstairs to his room.
As Bradley trotted about the track with Hubert on his heels the thought of his best friend, Jeremy Rickers, came to him. He met Jeremy when they were both freshmen in college, and they ended up rooming together for the last two years of college. He and Jeremy were so close that he would not be ashamed to tell Jeremy of his predicament, the way he was with his girlfriend, Ginger. Bradley smiled inside when he thought of the last time he talked to him, almost a week ago. Jeremy was telling him once again how his dad didn't want him to go on to graduate school, but to help out with the family business. During that conversation Jeremy still had not made a decision, even though the deadline to start grad school was fast approaching. Bradley needed to call Jeremy. He smiled as he thought of how he would call Jeremy later that day and tell him that he, Bradley, was now a social servant!"
Alban, up in his room that looked out onto the backyard, parted the curtain to his window ever so slightly. He had a good view of the entire yard, and of Bradley running. He unzipped his trousers, pulled out his cock, and started pumping as he watched his brother learning to be a good social servant. Bradley's metal collar glittered in the sunlight, and his legs, spread wide because of the training paddles, allowed his cock and balls to do big back and forth flip-flops. Alban never before came so quickly nor so powerfully in his entire life.
Martin, Steven, Jason, and Quince, were rejoined after awhile by Alban. They chatted for about half an hour. At one point when Bradley simple couldn't go on and stopped, Hubert bit him on the leg, breaking the skin and drawing blood in two points. Jason assured Bradley's father that the bite marks were okay and that they would be treated in a little while, but that it was important that he be made to run for a bit longer. Jason encouraged the social servant with the threat of the training whip. "Come on, you can do it. There are boys just like you all over the city who are at this moment being whip-trained to trot proudly!"
When the iced tea pitcher was empty, Martin asked Quince to refill it. "Dad, make Bradley do it. I'm not a social servant!"
Totally exhausted, Bradley called out. "Dad, please let me stop!" Jason gave the okay and shouted to Bradley that he could stop running, and called Hubert off. Bradley sank into the grass where he stopped running, and sprawled out on his back. After a brief rest Jason told him to go get himself a drink in the kitchen, and to come back out with another pitcher full of iced tea. Bradley was happy to go into the house. From the living room Flora could catch glimpses of her older brother every time he passed by the door. She wanted to get a closer look at her naked brother, but she knew it would embarrass him if she went into the kitchen, so she stayed in the living room, pretending to read a book.
When Bradley brought the tea outside, Bradley noticed that Jason was not present. Martin asked Bradley to refill everyone's glasses, and as he did so he couldn't look anyone in the face. Jason soon returned from his car carrying a very large coiled, black, thick, whip, a tawse, several strange looking gadgets, and rolls of chains with weird looking clamps, fasteners, and clips attached to them. When Jason set all the things he got from the car on the picnic table where Bradley was placing the pitcher of iced tea, Bradley saw them and slumped down to the ground, covered his face with his hands, and broke down crying.
Jason was quick to offer reassurance. "There is no reason to cry, Bradley. None of this stuff gets used if you do what you're told!" Bradley continued to cry.
Martin tried to help. "Did you hear that Bradley? That stuff is only for if you are naughty and don't do what Jason tells you to do."
Quince, too, tried to offer comfort. "All you gotta do is behave, Brad. Don't let it worry you."
Bradley kept crying, and all the free men looked at each other. Jason made a decision. "Tell you all what I'm going to do; I'm going to take Bradley to his room, clean out the little bite marks Hubert gave him, and help him get over his crying fit." Jason went over to Bradley, who was sitting in the grass, still covering his face and sobbing, and gently grabbed his shoulders. "Come on Bradley, cousin, everything is going to be okay."
Bradley stood up, and still with one arm around Bradley's shoulders, Jason grabbed the tawse and what looked like a pair of pliers with a very broad clamp on the end, and led Bradley off to the house to offer him special comfort.