Date: Sat, 22 Jan 2005 17:07:20 -0800 (PST) From: Steve Storyman Subject: Boys' Joys and Sorrows at Sex Ed. School - Chapter 4 ________________________________________________________________ Boys' Joys And Sorrows At Sex Ed. School - Chapter 4 by Steve Storyman stevestoryman@yahoo.com (text only) Copyright 2005 Steve Storyman January 22, 2005 DISCLAIMER: This story is for adults only. If it is not legal for you to read erotic stories, or you are not of legal age to read this type of story either where you reside or are accessing this page, or are offended by male to male sex, spanking, or other application of pain or pleasure to the body, homosexual or otherwise, then click off this page, and do not read this story. Contains gay sex scenes. Other standard disclaimers apply. _________________________________________________________________ CORRECTION: Hot Teen Brian has 4 chapters (another of my stories) _________________________________________________________________ PLEASE READ THIS AUTHOR'S REQUEST FOR HELP, "IT'S UP TO YOU" If you like my stories, please send a note. I would love to tell you that I write for the pure pleasure of it--but the truth is, I write for the pleasure of reading your email. Continuing a story depends on your emails. Without your help, I lose the drive that impels me to write--and focus only on stories that produce email. (I write in "real time." There aren't any pre-written chapters.) Your email address and your words are confidential and secure. I am not associated with any web site, and do not and will not give out, sell, share, print, nor copy--or anything else you can think of--your address or anything you tell me. PLEASE, NO ATTACHMENTS AND NO 'IN LINE' PICS OR OTHER MATERIAL. 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Thank you. --Steve _______________________________________________________________ THANK YOU TO ALL WHO MAILED ME, DOUBLE FOR THOSE WHO MAIL OFTEN Please don't stop. stevestoryman@yahoo.com (text only) _______________________________________________________________ SEE UPDATED LIST OF MY 4 STORIES AT END OF CHAPTER _______________________________________________________________ Jeremy Miles, Headmaster, Miles Academy Brent Hallman, 17, student being converted Phillip Ankleton, 14, student helper, blond hair Michael Lanikker, 13, student helper, darker hair Phil Wertz, 21, supervisor new { Mark Ericmann, 22, teacher this { Sean Ballinger, 15, student, rewarded chapter { Mark Wrent, 19, delivers Darren to a room { Darren Donner, 16, falsely accused _______________________________________________________________ "I'm sure a little stretch feels good to you boys," I said, with Brent amused, looking on and nodding. A few rounds of, 'OW!' and 'Oh, please' came out of their mouths before they realized I wasn't letting them down any time soon. What actors they were! This couldn't possibly be the first time they'd been suspended--and they still had their toes on the floor. The specially-designed restraints were long and well padded to prevent undue discomfort, or wrist damage. Brent was smiling--enjoying himself already. [FROM CH. 3] _______________________________________________________________ For Peter CHAPTER 4 BITTERSWEET FUN FOR THE BOYS STUDENT DISCIPLINE A SCENE (Coming in chapter 5: Classroom Discipline; Brent's Ritual) _________________________________________________________________ BITTERSWEET FUN FOR THE BOYS Brent had his eyes glued to Phillip and Michael. Then I noticed something and got closer to my two young helper- boys. They had lifted their toes off the floor, and were swaying in their restraints. I saw something else, too. "These boys were supposed to behave themselves while we were gone. Take a look, Brent--see anything unusual?" "Yeah--they both have boners . . . pre-cum, too. How did they--" "I'll tell you how. The boys swung themselves so their dicks would touch. They violated my orders." "That doesn't sound good, sir," Brent said ominously, picking up on my tone and reverting to 'master and boy' mode of speech. The lad was a fair actor, but had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. "You're right, Brent." Taking Brent aside, I explained the restrictions of sexual conduct placed on him. He seemed think that wasn't going to be a problem, though he was a little disappointed. I told him we could still have fun, and to play along and make whatever suggestions he wanted. I would nod or shake my head as a yes or no signal to each idea he voiced. Brent was enthusiastic now, knowing my mood. "What punishment did you have in mind, sir?" "Maybe I should cane them." This brought gasps from the pair. "Please, no sir! I'm sorry!" "We won't do it again." Brent laughed, staring at the two with a gleam in his eye. "I'm sure you won't," I said. I whispered an idea to Brent. Brent was eager to try it. "Well, you two boys are in for it now!" Acting on my idea, which would push the rules a bit, Brent took his good sized hardon and started doing a little batting practice with the boys' erections as targets. Using his cock, he struck each of their shafts back and forth, sending waves of pleasure through their bodies. "Ahh! OH YEAH! UH! Ooo!" When he started to hit the heads of their little cocks, they could hardly stand it. It was too much of a good thing. Pleasure became misery. "NO! OW! Ahhh! AH! OH! Please, no!" "Looks like while we were away," I said to Brent, "they got themselves more sexually worked up than I thought. We'll have to be careful--we don't want them to come yet." "Yes, sir!" Brent said, flashing a cruel grin at Phillip and Michael. "Shit, this is feeling good," he said to me. Brent came away from the boys, giving his cock a stroke. His grin was infectious. "You know, I think you might want to DRY their penises," I said with a sly glance. Brent caught on right away. His face lit up. "Good idea!" "Oh, no, please!" Phillip shouted. Michael squirmed in unadulterated panic. Brent took an absorbent towel and began the not-too-delicate drying process he had come to know so well. "Ah! Ooo! No!" the pair shouted, the intense feelings electrifying and overloading their cocks and small bodies. "Hold on, Brent--let me interrupt. I think Phillip and Michael are so horny now, they're too close to coming. We need to undo some of that sexual tension." "Oh, noooooo," "Oh, God," Phillip and Michael groaned. "Boys--I'm sure you'll appreciate what I'm going to do. By lessening your desire, you'll be able to enjoy more of Brent's gentle drying of your cocks," I said, hunting through the tools. "Here it is--perfect. A one inch wide, thin paddle." "Please, please no!" Phillip shouted. The so-called paddle was an overgrown Popsicle stick, but even at that, the force of the human arm had to be carefully limited, as the small paddle could sting badly. Just a little force would be plenty. I gently snapped the paddle at various points on their excited cocks, making sure to hit the tender tips once in a while. The resulting blood-curdling screams were quite charming, I thought, and from the looks of Brent, he agreed. I nodded, indicating the boys were ready. Their erections had barely faded. Brent did not hesitate to resume the torturous drying process, making sure either cloth or fingers stimulated their enraged organs. "Very good, boy," I said to Brent. "Just keep going with your ideas. If I see something I don't like, I'll stop you." I waited to see what Brent would do next. As I'd hoped, he went to the cock-tease rig and returned with a few new feathers. The boys' faces were pure fear and horrified anticipation. They had sensitized their own dicks while we were gone, and they were about to reap the uncomfortable consequences of their actions. Brent knew exactly how to do this--to make a simple sexual pleasure into a ghastly, unwelcome sensation. The errant young pair wriggled and squirmed with their alluring, lively pubescent arousal---their supple bodies at once enjoying and rebelling at the fierce teasing they were forced to endure from the feathers. Inevitably, the welcome, unprecedented sexual joy became their suffering. Soon, Michael and Phillip were howling and squealing--purple-faced and out of breath. Brent experienced renewed throbbing and thrashing of his own erection as he gleefully provoked the ravaging sexual anguish in the boys. Since he was bent over, feathering the pair, I took the opportunity to explore Brent's rear tunnel. "AH!" he said, as the cold lubricant touched him. "Don't dare look back at me or stop what you're doing," I said. My finger slid right in, surprising me. Then I recalled that Brent had experienced hours of the dildo up inside him while on the tease rig. Because my entry was so easy, I tried and old trick and used my thumb, rotating my hand, and pressing in all directions. The thumb provided more force than any other digit could, and the short length of it made the point of contact a stimulating but taunting distance from his prostate--close, but not close enough to satisfy that special yearning a boy gets, once he learns to enjoy real anal stimulation. "Oh, oh, geeez, yes," Brent muttered softly, surprising Michael and Phillip who were temporarily distracted from their awful feather torment. I enjoyed stimulating Brent in this way, his vocal response sensual and gratifying. The two of us were closer now--and the whipping as well as the interview helped forge that bond. There is something about a successful one-on-one scene--especially a whipping--that bonds master and boy quickly. While totally erect from the fun I was having with Brent, and from watching the boys squeal and squirm from Brent's handiwork, I began to float in a kind of sensual cloud. I mused about having my cock in Brent's bottom, and many other things I imagined would fill the hours, with him in my bed, including getting the lad to a point of sexual satiation. As I was enjoying all this, a parade of naked boys began to file in. That, and their lively erections, lifted my spirits even higher. I quickly disengaged from Brent, and cleaned my hands. Brent stopped to watch the unusual walking line-up, giving Phillip and Michael a chance to catch up on their breathing. I heard the pair gasp in pleasant surprise as they began to see the line of boys. My helpers' erections quickly accelerated their vigorous throbbing. It's always delightful to see how young teens can speak with their cocks. I was happily surprised, myself, as I watched them filing in. I think all of them were erect, and I wondered how that could be possible. Many of the naked boys stared openly at Phillip and Michael. And my two helper boys had no trouble staring back. Brent smiled, somewhat relaxed, naked and standing, cock at full attention, amused at the change of scene--the throng of nude boys and the mutual eyeballing antics we witnessed. The lads now entering Brent's training room looked to be about 15 years of age, with a good number of 16 and 17-year-olds thrown in. These were all school-age boys, and this was during academic hours--so these impossibly erect specimens of young manhood came from an academic classroom. I heard an adult male voice say something, and the line of students stopped. Their teacher rushed past them, walking quickly to me. "I'm very sorry for barging in. I didn't know this room was in use," the young teacher said with a pleasant smile. "Phil Wertz," I said, extending my hand, and admiring the guy's likable face. He looked to be about my age. "I'm assuming you're their teacher." "Yes. Mark Ericmann," he said, shaking my hand and maintaining solid eye contact. "Hot scene you got going!" "If you only knew," I said. Brent could not keep from laughing. Mark had barely looked at my guys, but he could tell the nature of my current scene from a quick glance at their bodies. Mark gave a warm, firm handshake. His enticing blue eyes drew me in. At about 175 captivating pounds--with a well-sculpted trim build sparsely dusted with light brown hair that matched the top of his head--Mark had my full attention. "Pleased to meet you, but don't rush off because of me. I think our mission here is accomplished," I said, motioning toward my two hanging helpers--who were mildly shaking their heads in response. The odd juxtaposition amused me. "One moment." Almost whispering, I asked Phillip some questions concerning our next steps in preparation for the impending ritual, and how long it would take before the ritual began. As we spoke, I rolled his erection between my thumb and forefinger as if it were bread dough. I eventually got the information I needed. I then explained our status to Mark Ericmann, who suddenly took great interest in examining Brent's body. After Mark had prodded to his satisfaction, he returned to me. "He's hot. He's the conversion case--he's here for cock-tease, isn't he? You didn't break him yet, did you?" Mark whispered that. We had to be careful lest the boys hear--we didn't want them privy to the private matters of the school. "Yes." I wasn't happy with the word 'break'--it sounded too cruel, even though I was intimately familiar with that. I would have to learn to control my compassionate side somewhat. "Really? Three other supervisors tried and failed," Mark said in admiration. "I didn't know," I said, stunned. "Whatever you did, it must've been good. The three of them are hot," Mark said with a note of envy. "Thanks. We're just having a little fun now." "Nice meeting you, Phil. I'd better get going. Got to keep my boys on their toes." STUDENT DISCIPLINE "Wait--we're only using this corner of the room. I'd love it if you could do your session here with your students. I'd like to watch." As Mark took a breath to speak, I had a wonderful idea. "On second thought--are you going to do any punishment scenes now?" "Yes," he said chuckling a bit. "Good. I have a strange request." "Okay," he said, apparently ready for anything. I whispered softly, "I have this odd desire to see punishment done in the classroom." He blushed at this--maybe thinking ill of me--that I was too crude, too warped to want such a thing badly enough to simply ask. But he smiled, his expression revealing volumes. The idea found favor with him. "That's not strange--we all do!" He laughed. "Well," I said, blushing, "could we all go to your classroom, and see you do it there?" "I have a boy here whose academic record took a big jump for the better, just recently. I'd hoped to reward him in a bigger room before meting out punishment to the others." "I see. Would it be possible to reward him here, then go to your classroom?" "Hmmm--that'll work! Can I use your two little hotties over there?" he said, gesturing toward Phillip and Michael, who strained irresistibly in their helpless, hanging pose. Mark grinned and exchanged nods with Michael and Phillip. I think the desperate duo wiggled their butts suggestively just for Mark's benefit, little devastating animals that they were. Phillip had the greater sexual appeal, at 14, of a slightly older boy, compared with his comrade. Michael was at the top of his grade--a genius--at 13, and cute as hell. His academic standing and high I.Q. allowed Michael to be the only 13-year-old elevated to the honorable position called, 'helper.' "You know them?" I asked Mark. "I've seen them in a few scenes, but never had the pleasure of working with them. I know them by sight. Can I borrow them for my reward scene with Sean?" Mark gave me a wide grin. "It'll cost ya," I said, grinning back at the hot-looking teacher, knowing I had no right to say that since he was doing me a favor by moving his punishment scene back to his classroom. "I'm fuckable if YOU are," he said, whispering in my ear, sending chills down my spine. "You're new--your profile is on the system. I read it. Good background. Nice body. We're almost the same age--I'm 22." This was so much easier than seducing students! I could order a student to have sex with me, but, in my opinion, that was no fun. Besides, a student could refuse under certain conditions. "I'm game," I said. I wanted to take this guy somewhere and have a good time with him. I whispered, "How about we tie all these boys up, and go out to the indoor beach for some sand volleyball, followed by a game of poker--I mean poke in?" Of course we couldn't just leave our boys--but on this snowy day in February, the indoor beach appealed to me. "Sounds good to me," he said, laughing. "There's always the staff pool--maybe tonight or tomorrow?" "Why not!" "Hey," he said, whispering again, "why are you naked?" "Long story," I said, blushing. "Nice bone!" I put on a pair of training shorts--generic, all-purpose garb, available in any training room. By this time, Mark's students were neatly lined up at attention. "Wow," I said, eyeing the orderly lineup of 16 students--cocks erect and bodies at attention. They could have been chorus boys. "Those students look good." "No they don't," he said, peering into the distance and seeing something that displeased him. Mark extracted a cane from the holder. "Wait," I said, knowing he was about to get busy, "Can I have one of yours students for a courier?" I had to get Brent's document to the Prep Center. "No problem," he said, then he turned to his boys, "Sean Ballinger!! Get your butt over here!" A boy of about 15--nice medium build, about 5 foot 7, 140 pounds, brown hair and eyes--jumped out of line instantly, and came running. 'He must be on the track team,' I thought. At that point, I was aso horny I was ready to take any willing boy to a back room, and fuck the hell out of him. As Sean got closer, I could see that--other than a good build for a 15-year-old--Sean was not especially handsome, and the lad was less-than-well-endowed, with about a 4-1/2 inch bone. His face was pleasant enough, but plain. I liked this kid right away. He had a fresh, untainted air about him. I still wondered about their cocks--how Mark managed to have them all erect. As Sean got even closer, I could see his down-home face carried an engaging look of youthful, red-cheeked health--laced with anxiety at the moment. "Sir! I'm sorry! Whatever I did--please!" the naked boy begged. He was worried about being punished, for some reason. I could see his concern--his naked butt had been worked over recently, and it probably hurt the boy just to breathe. Those buttocks couldn't possibly take much more punishment. With his apparent fear, I expected his well-proportioned, stiff cock to wilt, but it persisted. I was ready to ask this kid if he'd wander off with me somewhere, and suck my dick. I didn't have the guts yet to ask the cute teacher. What would I say?--'I'm horny, get me off.'? Mark explained that another supervisor had recently disciplined Sean when he was wrongly included in a gang of troublemakers who were punished as a group. "Relax, Sean--I just rated you number two in the class! You're here as a good example. Do you think I have you in the same category as Dremmond?" (I later found out this was a reference to Ethan Dremmond, a very charming, attractive, somewhat unruly 17-year-old.) "No, sir," the 15-year-old said, suddenly smiling with relief. He had very nice teeth. About 21,000 dollars worth, I guessed. "I need you to take a form to the Prep Center," I said to Sean. "In a hurry for his courier services?" Mark asked. "No, but, tell me one thing. How do you keep them--I mean--every one of your boys has a sky-high erection--" "Didn't they tell you about the eggs?" Mark whispered. I couldn't believe my ears and blushed instantly as I whispered very softly in Mark's ear, "This is fucking WEIRD, man--EGGS?" "It's not weird," he said, grinning. "These are surgical-grade Zeflon egg-shaped stimulators--with vibrators. 'EvPoint Education Supplies' makes them," he said, taking a small box from his pocket and showing me. "Simple-looking thing," I said. "They're held in the rectum with a soft, thin bracket. The outer Zeflon shell is laced with Endorlone. The Zeflon acts as a time- release agent. It has a remote-controlled vibrator. Teachers and supervisors can get all the eggs they want," Mark concluded, with a self-satisfied grin. "Great!" "When there IS a shortage of them, our academic classes are the first to have their supply cut off--so I may hit you up for a few dozen, someday." This was fabulous. Zeflon, slick but porous, would make it non- irritating and easy to insert; and Endorlone is a powerful erection-maker with no side effects, derived from synthetic human endorphins. The time-release feature meant you could keep a subject hard all day. Or you could remove the egg when you needed the boy to return to his natural biochemistry. I should have thought of Endorlone. I didn't know it could be effective in the rectum or colon. The rule book I'd studied contained some information about using Endorlone in food and drinks, which paralleled my own limited experience with the exotic stimulant. Mark showed me the remote, and how you could set it on low, holding it close to a boy, controlling the vibrations of only the one egg; and a high setting, used at a slight distance from the boys, causing the whole group's eggs to vibrate at once. I didn't like that it was called an 'egg,'--I didn't care for the sound of the word--but what the hell, it was a fantastic concept. Mark, waving the remote around threateningly, kept glancing at Sean, making the poor boy nervous. The boy seemed to fear the vibrator for some reason, and I thought that was odd. Sean finally spoke up. "Come on, sir--no!" he said, staring fearfully at the remote, "Please don't do that to me now!" The way Sean spoke so openly, I had the feeling Mark was a very reasonable man, compared with my impression that all the other supervisors and teachers at Miles Academy were of the slightly rougher variety. "Why not?" Mark said to Sean, "Aren't you willing to give a little demonstration for Mr. Wertz, here? You'll enjoy it!" "There's no way to hide it from the guys," Sean said, squirming and bouncing enticingly--inadvertently revealing that he WOULD be willing to demonstrate it for me. "Yeah, you're right, boy. I don't want to do that to you--not yet, anyway." Sean and I exchanged smiles. The boy's eyes were warm, eager, sensual. His smiling, pleasing manner gave his plain face a nice glow, I thought. "Winch up your boys, Phil--we'll need to pull them over to my students soon," Mark said, referring to the winch motors for Phillip and Michael--that I should raise them so their feet were off the floor. The winches were mounted on rollers embedded in heavy tracks in the ceiling. A gentle sideways pull on one of the cables allowed you to slide the suspended boy--winch and all--to different parts of the room. Mark whispered his plan to me, and I approved. I elevated Phillip and Michael. I made sure their feet were off the floor by a few inches, and turned to Mark, who had the two, pale green, almost walnut-sized eggs in his hand. "Might as well put these to good use," he said, handing them to me. "We usually don't use eggs on 13-year-olds, but anything goes if it's remotely connected with a conversion scene." Mark grinned. "Michael," I said, "have you had one of these before?" "No, sir." Mark read my concern about Michael's body--a possible negative or excessive response to the egg. "We can always take out his egg if he's over-stimulated. The call-out rule always applies," Mark said. "Sounds great!" It occurred to me that Michael likely starts the DAY over-stimulated. The best feature of Endorlone was that it had absolutely no side-effects, making it very safe to use. The call-out rule was my favorite. That was the rule that says a boy can call a time out or a stop, delaying or canceling anything that is being done to him or asked of him. The only exceptions were boys 21 and over who had signed special release forms, permitting heavier scenes. However, these had a slow-word and a safe-word that served the same purpose as the call-out rule. Mark inserted the soft brackets, and I slipped the oval plastic things into my two squirming boys with the dildo-shaped inserter. "Ahh!" "Oooo!" they yelled as the eggs nestled agreeably against their pubescent prostates. So now there were 18 boys with the erection-making chemical eggs in their butts. My two imps swung their legs happily. I later found out that the boys knew exactly what they were doing--any use of major muscles near the buttocks caused motion inside the rectum that slightly accelerated the release of the chemical. "Ohhhhhh." "Yeah," were the responses from Phillip and Michael as the Endorlone began to run through their young little bodies. I had never seen Endorlone get into the system so quickly. I thought about doing the same to Brent, but after Miles' repeated warnings about no orgasms, I hesitated. "Mark--do you think Brent should have an egg, too?" "Might be too risky. I know Miles doesn't want him to come." "Okay." "Phil--don't pull your boys over yet. I have to get Sean worked up a little, first." "Worked up? He's hard as hell!" I said. "That's just a boner. He needs to get horny." "Just a boner?" "Yes--I haven't given them testosterone or any of the other things to boost their sexual craving. They don't need that now." This was all said to a panicked Sean who was shaking his head, still pleading for mercy. Just how powerful was that vibrator? I had a thought. I explained to Mark that Sean could fondle and touch Brent anywhere, as long as he didn't give Brent's cock too much attention--and that might be a good way to get Sean horny, as Mark seemed bent on doing. "Good idea. Sean likes boys Brent's age." Now Sean was nodding eagerly. I had a feeling Sean liked Brent, age or no age. Brent was looking on intently, grinning. Apparently he wanted the boy. "Let's do it," I said. Mark walked over to his students to cane the ones he felt had misbehaved. He lined them all up and had them grab their ankles. I supposed he wanted to surprise them--certain boys in line would suddenly scream--startling their neighbors. Sean went to work on Brent. The kid's slender, agile hands were all over Brent, and his tongue lapped and bathed the older boy from head to toe--with extra licks and lots of time spent on Brent's tense sac. I allowed Sean to do some licking and sucking on Brent's well- armed penis. Sean soon had a raging erection. Brent was well beyond--at the point of pre-cum--fast approaching that delicious, heart-stopping point of no return. "Owwwwwch! Oooooh! Arrghh--NO!" we heard in the distance, as Mark systematically caned his troublemakers. SWISH . . . CRAACCKKK!! "AHHHHhhhhh!" SWISH . . . CRAACCKKK!! "OHHHHhhhhhhhhh!" WHHIPPPPPPPPPPPP!! "YeeeAWWWWRRRRRRGHHHHHH!" I could easily see the vivid red stripes on the hapless boy's buttocks, even at this distance. Soon there was a commotion around Mark. I could hear him shouting, "If you punch another student, you'll spend the next five years in a chastity belt. Hold him down, boys!" And a throng of well-built boys held the ill-fated lad with all their strength. And Mark pulled out a thicker, ominous-looking cane and swung it mercilessly toward the boy's quivering rear end. The torturous cane connected with the boy's pale, helpless flesh with a gruesome, nerve-shattering, unnatural sound. WHiiiiiiipBBLLAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTT! And the screams the poor lad made was equally unnatural-- haunting, ear-splitting--a low growl accelerating with a phenomenal crescendo--a shout, a scream of unspeakable magnitude and excruciating agony that runs out of breath and chokes itself along with its owner--an eerie howl that pierces the soul--and repeats, even before the next vicious, horrifying stroke is laid on. And it was, again and again. WHiiiiiiipBBLLAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTT! WHiiiiiiipBBLLAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTT! WHiiiiiiipBBLLAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTT! Always with the same gut-wrenching howl, rising higher in amplitude and pitch to a mind-penetrating, terrifying scream. The boy turned purple along with his horrific welts that were fast approaching that devilish hue. Barbarous demonic strokes, they were, indenting the flesh severely and thrusting the helpless body forward--strong boys unable to stop the victim's head from snapping back viciously, legs from kicking violently in unimaginable, animal recoil to the impossible agony. This was repeated 19 times on the suffering lad who writhed in hideous anguish, as the unrelenting barbarous blows continued unabated. And there were three boys who received 20 each of the monstrous whacks of this ghastly, brutal punishment. When the room fell into welcome silence, our hearts beat at incredible speeds, along with the savagely whipped, tortured boys. We stood stunned--spent as the three lads whose battered flesh was now on full display as they were helped to stand at attention, their grimly-striped mounds made to face the unnerved crowd of trembling students who had merely witnessed the awful display. The crowd jumped involuntarily at the crash of the heavy cane as it fell to the floor. Some tense moments passed, after which an antiseptic solution was applied to the quivering, devastated flesh, the inhuman alcohol sting burning with stupefying ferocity, triggering a dreadful barrage of renewed, blood-chilling, savage shrieks and howls. Mark's potent caning prompted me to think of our dormitories. We had no day students. All of our boys were 24/7 students, and slept in the dorms. Some staff did also--I among them--not in dorms, but in fairly elegant, multi-room suites. I was absorbed with the idea making the rounds, visiting with the Housemaster, watching him cane or otherwise torment the boys a bit, or whatever else, at bedtime. In addition, there was the enticing prospect of witnessing some group dorm discipline, which could be rather severe. These were no idle wishes on my part, as Miles himself had mentioned my making such visits. There was something especially titillating to me about rows of beds--with boys in them--and seeing these lads in their night clothes getting out of their beds, not to mention what might happen to them after they extricated themselves from their sheets and blankets. Throbs in my groin confirmed that I was looking forward to such an experience. My attention returned to Sean, and Brent the hunk. Responding energetically to Sean's expert, hands-on technique, poor Brent squirmed with the intense pleasure, moaning, and gritting his teeth. At least Brent was standing free, and not tied to the contraption. The sculpted bare feet of the two lads added a sensual dancing side-show to the arousing scene. Sean seemed to be taking great pleasure in staring at Brent's feet, among other things. With the tension settled, all of Mark's remaining boys were looking our way, drooling. Even at a distance, the line of students could see what was happening. When both Brent and Sean were well aroused, I had Sean stop. I told Brent to put some shorts on. "Feels weird," Brent said, "I've been naked for so long." "You make a cock-watering tent. Does it feel good to be dressed?" "Yeah. But I think I'd rather be naked now." "Why's that?" "Well--do you think I could . . . play with them?" "Sorry boy," I said, returning to my supervisor mode of speech, "that's impossible. You need to wait for your ritual." Why didn't they call it an indoctrination or something? "Yes, sir. But then--when will I--you know, get to come?" Brent asked anxiously--gulping with anticipation. "It won't be too long now--a matter of hours at most, I think. Let's move these boys." Brent grabbed Phillip's cable, I took hold of Michael's, and we made our way behind Mark and Sean to the lined-up students, taking the suspended boys with us--the lubricated rollers and ceiling track making the process very easy. I kept having to remind myself that our initial purposes were for me to get Sean to drop off Brent's document at the Prep Center, and for Mark to give Sean some type of reward. Actually, MY purpose was for Brent to have some fun. I let Mark have control for the moment, so he was leading the way, now. Then I wondered why Mark chose Sean to be my courier, since Sean was involved in the upcoming scene. Mark brought one of the tables over to the line of students, very close to where the ceiling track would take us. Motioning toward Sean, Mark said, "I'm trying to get him as near as possible to Michael and Phillip, so they can suck him comfortably." Sean was eventually going to stand on the table to receive his blow job. When we pulled Phillip and Michael over to face the table, Mark moved it even closer to the hanging pair. After we had everyone where Mark wanted them, Sean stood on the table facing the suspended boys. I adjusted Phillip and Michael's winches, to get their mouths level with Sean's dick. The eggs had all three cocks throbbing heartily. It was clear what would be done now, and this would be an obvious reward bestowed on Sean. The formerly lined-up students placed themselves at their chosen vantage points, to get a good view of everything. Sean stood nervously on the table, his bouncing rigid penis hungry now, for pleasure. "Open WIDE, boys," Mark said to Michael and Phillip, who eagerly obeyed, wiggling erotically at Sean. Perhaps my little pair saw something desirable in Sean, despite his lack of Hollywood looks. Michael and Phillip's mouths were open to the maximum, and as I regarded Sean's erection, I was thinking, 'Not THAT wide, boys.' "Sean, you can cuss now, just keep it reasonable." And to me, he said, "I've had him in denial for 8 days." "Denial?" "Chastity belt," Mark explained. "Oh!" I blushed, realizing that his use of 'denial' was a meaning I should have known in this context. We hadn't used that term the same way at the school where I was trained. "Yeah, this ought to be fun. He's got at least three orgasms in him--and that's just for the first hour. I'll only let him have one climax, and maybe put the belt back on him," Mark said. Sean got to choose which of the two young teen mouths he would impale first. He chose Phillip, the 14-year-old--and Sean did not thrust shyly. "Blllmmfghhphckt," came the arousing sound of flesh into flesh, assisted by Phillip's vocal cords. "Fuck!" Sean yelled, as his passion took over. He became creative as he proceeded with his deep penetration--alternating for a time between the two boys, a few seconds each, adding a new sensuous dynamic to the act. "Umm! Umm! Umm!" Phillip grunted with each slap of Sean's body against his youthful face--the golden-haired boy behaving as if he'd swallow Sean's frantic dick. "That looks good, boys," Mark said, his hand smacking hard at Sean's ass, just as Sean had switched mouths, starting a new journey within 13-year-old Michael's tight lips. Mark stood back and pressed the remote. "Orrrrfffff!" "Ahhhhhghhhhh!!" "OHHHH!" Were the responses of all the boys, bending as if in pain. Their penises throbbed markedly, and pre-cum flowed quickly from more than one boy. Phillip and Michael squealed with delight. Sean screamed that almost-deep adolescent howl, in response to the egg's vibration, as if he were about to spew out his guts through his cock. Sean's heightened intensity inched still upward as he pounded Michael's mouth and chin. The pair made indescribable sounds as the engaging 15-year-old climbed yet higher in youthful sexual abandon. Michael held on to the impassioned boy's buttocks for dear life. Mark motioned two of his students to join Sean on the table, to hold him steady. Sean would probably need help to keep from falling, I thought--gripping and powerful as the 15-year-old's orgasm was likely to be after 8 days of abstinence. A piercing moan of pleasure escaped Sean's lips as he left Michael and re-entered Phillip's waiting mouth. "Oh! Yeah! Oh! Yeah!" Sean chanted breathlessly, as he claimed Phillip's mouth, once again--shouting loudly--thrusting and heaving his hot tube frenetically. As Sean began to tremble and scream, his thrusting slowed. Phillip took over the sensual sliding, his head bobbing fervently--lustfully feeding welcome friction to tongue and cock. "YEAH! YEAH!" the enthralled crowd of eager students yelled. "Yarraaaarrghhh!" Sean screamed vehemently, the hot pulsation of his orgasm surging through him, renewing his strength--once again pounding his cock insistently into the exquisite boy--Sean's furiously pumping body a blur now, the convulsing penis powerfully ejecting his pent-up seed. And Phillip took in the warm seed of the virile 15-year-old-- having been the much-desired receptacle for Sean's colossal, ultimate pleasure. After taking Michael and Phillip down and setting them on their feet, we mingled with the students, Brent dutifully staying by my side. Michael could be seen standing, playing with himself like a little boy, entranced with the unique and unprecedented results of his egg--a remarkably loyal, tenacious bone. The boy groaned, pulling it downward, letting it slap up sharply against his belly, grinning proudly as if discovering an erection for the first time. "Okay, settle down," Mark said, addressing his students. There's more good things in store for Sean before I get to your punishments. First, it's back to the classroom. His students looked surprised but relatively unaffected by the announcement. A SCENE A light flashed next to the main entrance door to our training room. Mark shot me an inquisitive glance, as if asking whether I knew what that meant. I nodded. Everyone else seemed to stop in their tracks and stare at the urgently blinking light--which meant that someone needed to see me immediately. I approached the main door to the training room and opened it. I was greeted with the very pleasant sight of an attractive, well-proportioned big kid of 19--who resembled someone I could not place--tall, enticingly handsome, with the most fabulous face and endearing grin I have ever seen. At 6 foot 5 inches and 200 tight, solid pounds, this boy was big, but not excessively so. His dark brown hair, deep set blue-green eyes, and baby smooth face made him bewitching and desirable--a surreal, heavenly boy--enchanting beyond the ability of mere mortals to resist, I thought. Of course he was wearing the standard shorts that showed off his organs--the semi-sheer fabric stretched more tightly, skillfully stitched around the penis and under the scrotum. That was quite a treat. But his muscles! He didn't have the look of a bodybuilder, whose every muscle had been developed to its maximum, or beyond. This boy had bulked himself to a degree, but his was not a drug- induced bulk. Just looking at him you knew the kid had worked his balls off for every ounce of that cock-tingling muscle. Each captivating, athletic-looking bulge on the boy had cost him pounds of sweat. "Hello, sir, I'm Mark Wrent," the lad said in the crisp diction of a well-educated boy, "and--I think you're . . . Mr. Wertz?" he said--charming me off my feet with his inviting eyes, sensual lips, and dazzling white smile. I wanted to jump inside the boy. Not only was my cock at risk of exhaustion, but this would get confusing if I had to deal with two 'Marks' in one room. I wondered what the lad wanted. "Come in!" I said, but thinking, 'Let me sit on your lap, would you, please?' "What can I do for you?" But the tall, striking 19-year-old did not move from his ramrod-straight stance in the doorway. @@@ "Oh!" he said, startled, "not me--HIM." Big Mark moved out of the way to reveal a stunning, smaller and less majestically-built 16-year-old (I was later to be corrected by the younger boy, himself, that he was 16.6 years old). This boy was dressed in a jock strap and cut-off tee shirt which revealed a tight lower torso, delicately rippled, and a concave stomach. His beautifully filled pouch was lightly framed in sparkling, golden hair. The wide waistband of his jock undulated gracefully with the gentle 16-year-old's breathing. A delicious, mild scent of sex graced the air about him. "Hello," he said timidly, the voice sweet, young, uncontaminated --quietly reverberating with the unassuming boyish freshness that stirs the senses. Since the younger lad's attire was not standard, I incorrectly assumed the boy was new. (If I had been thinking clearly, I would have known that Miles wouldn't send me a new student.) He had beautiful light brown hair, arresting green eyes, and delightful legs, sparsely populated with fine hairs, apparently bleached blond at the ends, by the sun. My overall impression of the 16-year-old had him as a smaller, more moldable version of Brent Hallman. I was thinking, 'Come in, said the spider,' followed by, 'Calm down, Phil,'--when Mark the hunk handed me a sealed envelope, awakening me from my sexual reverie. "Instructions, sir. His name is Darren," the well-built boy said. I nodded. "Do you need me for anything else, sir?" Mark asked politely. "Who is your supervisor?" I asked, Mark, wanting to be able to contact this boy at a later date. "Jim Dozny, sir," the lad said. "All right. That is all," I said, dismissing him. He thanked me and left the room. I was sorry to see him go, but relieved that there was once again only one 'Mark' in the room. "Hello, Darren," I said to a wide-eyed, youthful stare. The overall silent, tense manner of the boy went well with his expression. After seeing the instructions, I was glad I'd thoroughly studied the rule and procedures book. The instruction card said, "DARREN DONNER, 16. YEARS COMPLETED: 2. SCENE 617. HC OK." The attached file copy gave the boy's background and his two years' past history at Miles Academy. The 'HC' stood for 'hard core.' 'Why didn't they use their system, so I could read it on the screen, instead of all this paper?' I wondered. Then I realized the subject might read his file over my shoulder. The file contained confidential evaluations and comments never meant for a student's eyes. I knew from my study that any three-digit number starting with '6' meant I was to do a 'false accusation' scene. The next two digits referred to the nature of the accusation. I remembered the number '17' quite well because the scene described in the book struck me as one of the more sensual, arousing scenes I'd ever heard of--it was just my thing. The '17' meant that the false accusation stated that the boy 'experienced unnecessary erections with an objectionably high frequency of occurrence' in non-sexual situations. 'Too many boners' would have put it just as succinctly. I was instructed to do a long-term scene with him--over a period of days or weeks--ostensibly to 'cure' him of his frequent, so- called 'unnecessary' hardons. Doing that scene with this boy would surely take me to the summit of arousal and entertainment. >From the looks of Darren, he was the perfect subject for this. A false accusation was used as a means of evaluating and adjusting a boy's emotional toughness; his response to the injustice of an obvious lie about him--a negative and deliberate false assertion by a supervisor--and to the subsequent torment he would suffer at the hands of a second supervisor. I was to be the second supervisor. The idea was to strengthen the boy, make him more resilient--more able to avert the emotional distress of a boy's life at sex ed school. Often these cases were boys who were too sensitive to criticism or took an abnormally high degree of offense at routine harmless teasing from their peers, spoiling the fun for others. Such a boy could easily ruin a scene, or his friends' high spirits. The boy was to stay in my private training room, located in my living quarters, until I deemed him fit to go back to his peers and normal routine. I knew just what tools and methods I wanted to use to start things off with Darren. But what a thing to throw at me--Phil Wertz, a new, untrained supervisor--already up to my eyeballs today in things to do! I scanned the room for Mark, the good-looking teacher. "Mark, would you mind taking a break? I don't want to miss a minute of your activities, and I need to take care of this boy." "No problem. I'll give everyone snacks in the lunchroom, and we'll wait for you. I assume Brent has no diet restrictions. Maybe we'll tease your hotties if we get bored." "Anything you need to do, sure." "He's cute. What scene do you have to do with him?" "Six-seventeen." "Lucky you! That's hot." "Sounds time-consuming, though." "Hey, you're new. You don't have much to fill your time right now. Count yourself lucky." "Okay, thanks Mark." Now, I was excited. I took the boy to the same training room that I'd used for Brent's whipping. "Why the jock strap, boy?" I said with fear-inducing formality, as if I didn't know why they made him wear it. By then, we were in the smaller training room, and I had locked the door. "Sir--they said I have a--um, that my dick is hard too much." Apparently Darren was somewhat immature, as well as insecure. This scene would do wonders for him. "Too much? What do you mean? It gets too stiff?" I said, deliberately making it more difficult for the boy and rattling him, while maintaining my practiced, warm disposition. "Well, no--yeah--no, I mean, I--" "Take that thing off. I need you naked. Let me see your dick," I said, with a good dose of impatience. I unnerved him. The boy fumbled so badly, it took four attempts before he grasped the tight jock properly and pulled it down. He let it drop to his ankles. I walked around him, full circle, which further unsettled him. I thought he made an endearing sight, standing there naked, with the tiny garment encircling his ankles. "Well? Step out of it, boy!" "Yes, sir." And Darren was now naked before me, unencumbered by the jock. I grabbed his flaccid organ and fondled it gently. "You're not hard now," I said, watching his penis thicken and lengthen, "so what's the problem?" "It--it's d-doing it now, sir." "Boys get hard. Nothing wrong with that, is there?" I had Darren flustered. It took the poor boy ten minutes to explain the so-called problem, during which time his penis returned to a fully-flaccid state. "But it's not true, sir--I swear it isn't." "Boy--sometimes your superiors see things that you can't see about yourself." I turned on the 'BUSY' light--which lit up in the hallway, identifying the training room as 'hands off' to the central office, and to anyone passing by--and took Darren to one of the bedrooms in the utility area. I sat him in a comfortable chair, for which he seemed grateful--I could see that much, even through his uneasiness. I secured his wrists to the chair's arms using the strap-like cuffs built into the chair. "I'll be right back." Out in the training room, I gathered my tools and supplies from the storage area into a black carrying bag--lube, cock rings, a dildo, butt-plug, paddle, a small tawse, some Endorlone (for a nice, hard, enduring erection), and one of the thinner, shorter, lighter-weight cats (1). I needed the smaller tools because there wasn't much swing radius in the bedroom--that is where I felt Darren needed to be for the sake of relaxation and trust, for the moment. (1) cat. Cat-o-nine-tails. A multi-stranded leather flogging device. Used forcefully, it rivaled the whip in its pain- inducing characteristics. Used mildly for long periods, the cat gave varying results, depending on the things said to the subject--the way you manipulated him mentally. In extreme cases, a soft, long session with the cat could drive a boy mad--you could get him to do many things he might not normally think of, or say anything you wanted to hear. Of course, I would not abuse this power--it had to be carefully controlled. In the lunch room area of this more private training room, I prepared two glasses of juice. One papaya, because it would mask the taste of the heavy dose of Endorlone I would give Darren, and one orange, for me. As I returned to the bedroom, the poor kid panicked when he saw the black bag--a familiar sight to every boy here, one that usually signaled the start of a less-than-comfortable situation for his body. I put the bag on the floor in plain sight and sat in a chair across from him. I freed his wrists from the cuffs. "Relax, boy. Darren, is it?" I said, taking one of Darren's hands, holding it gently. "Y-yes, sir," he said, eyeing the glasses of juice hungrily. "Here, drink up," I said, handing him the papaya juice, "The papaya plant is used in Pacific Rim countries to help calm a man's sex drive." I was making this up, but having fun watching Darren's eyes go wide with hope, lips anxious to drink the delicious stuff. "Sir, I--" "It's okay, Darren. I want you to relax and feel safe with me. Do you?" "Yes--but . . . may I speak please, sir?" "Only if you lean back in the chair and relax first." As Darren did so, I took some of the flavored lube, and rubbed the boy's feet and ankles, which relaxed him better than I thought it would. Later, I anticipated that I might call a boy to lick it off Darren's feet--at the proper moment, of course. I could check with the other supervisors for an appropriate boy. I would have to see more of Darren's tastes before I could decide whether an older or younger lad would be right for him. "Mmm, thanks, sir," he said, putting down his empty glass. I smiled inwardly, knowing the glass of juice had contained enough Endorlone to make five boys get a four-hour erection. But a 16 or 17-year could tolerate a high level of the stimulant in his system--and the aching erection it would produce. The pain is his cock would be minimal, and wear off after the first 20 minutes or so. "That feels good on my feet, sir. Thank you. I feel relaxed now, almost drunk," Darren said with a little laugh and a warm smile. The kid really was relaxing. The slight inebriated feeling, almost undetectable and only lasting a few minutes, was a little-known trait of a very high dose of Endorlone, I had learned from the academy's book. "I'm going to help you, Darren. I don't like to see boys in trouble of any kind. And I know, at your age you can still spring a boner for no reason." "Sir, that used to happen when I was like fourteen, but--" "It's okay. Just relax Darren, okay? You're in good hands. Everything will be all right," I said with my most soothing, convincing tone. "Okay--I mean, yes sir." "Good. How old are you?" "Sixteen point six years old. So I'm much closer to seventeen, sir." "Yes. And how often do you masturbate?" "M-masturbate, sir?" "Stand up, Darren, and take hold of your dick." The boy slowly did so, a huge blush accompanying each passing second. He held his nice cock loosely, as if afraid of it. Darren was not hard yet, so I couldn't estimate his size, but he was in the minority of uncircumcised boys--about 20 percent. That might come in handy later. I placed my hand over his, and moved back and forth along the length of his soft penis. "THIS. How often do you do this?" The lad was mortified, trembling, his hands moving about erratically. "All right, sit down, boy." "Thank you, sir." "Now, how often do you jerk off?" "A whole lot, sir." I took a breath to calm myself. "All right, Darren. Just relax now. You said, 'a whole lot.' Tell me, how many times a day would that be?" "About ten or twelve, sir," he said quietly, blushing profusely. "Ten or twelve," I said calmly. That should keep your erections down." "Sir, it does! I don't really . . . have a--" "That's okay, Darren. Lean back and relax, will you?" "Yes, sir." "How do you feel now?" I asked, as Darren slumped into a charming pose--one that I imagined he'd use if expecting a blow job; an image totally from my imagination, as I could not picture this lad expecting any such thing from a supervisor, at the moment. "Well, really good, sir, I--oh, I um, feel--" the boy said, looking at his rising dick, "oh, I uh . . . oh, no." By this time, his nice six-incher was rock solid and pointing to his navel. "Oh--it's happening. Sir--I--" "Yes, I see the problem," I said gravely. The whole scheme was to use pain and various types of discomfort as ways of temporarily 'curing' his uncontrollable erections. Of course Darren and I both knew that he had no such problem, but the boy knew better than to come out and say that to a superior. And by the time I got through with him, he might be convinced that he DOES have this problem. "Sir, I don't understand it." "It's okay, Darren," I said soothingly, "I'm here to solve your problem so you can go back to your normal routine. You have to trust me. Do you trust me Darren?" "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." I was not to the point of hating to do this to Darren--I was having too much fun already, not to mention the unpredictable but happy acrobatics of my cock. He was a really nice kid-- definitely not a boy who cursed or used coarse language of any kind. "What helps you when you want to get rid of a boner? And you DO have a doozy, there." I grabbed the hot, throbbing thing, and gave it a few strokes--to the boy's dismay. I held on to it while we spoke. "AH! Um, well, uh--I, um--I'm not sure," he said, gulping, and shivering sensuously with the first shockwave of the Endorlone's effects. "Well . . . thinking of something bad, I guess." "We're off to a good start. Not so much thinking, but EXPERIENCING something bad--such as pain, or other types of things that shock the body, usually help. You know that from your training sessions, don't you?" Another enchanting gulp. "Well--yes, sir." I gave his steel-hard penis a swift slap. SMMMAAACKKKKK! "OWW! AH! Oh, God!" "Okay, Darren. Good. Drop the 'sir' for now--let's be comfortable with each other." The poor kid was about to be anything BUT comfortable--but for now he could relax, as best he could with an erection of stone that was not going down for a long time. "Yes, si--Phil. Thank you. I'm sorry!" The boy nearly shouted in frustration, staring angrily at his stubborn but very appealing bone. Watching his face, I began to think he was going to cry at any moment, he looked so distressed. "What type of pain usually works best for you? A paddling?" I asked--knowing that the paddle was not usually effective in relieving a boy of his erection--unless it was a very brutal paddling. I did not want to go that route. If I was going to swing something, with some force, at bare skin, I could think of many things I'd choose over a paddle, though at other times it had its place. "I'm, um--not really sure," he said, as all boys do when you question them about pain, one of their least favorite subjects at times like this. "I'm your friend now. Don't hold back, Darren. You know. You need to trust me, Darren. I know you can tell me. What works best for you? The strap? The cane? Cat? Birch?" This time Darren shivered out of fear--letting out a mournful shriek upon hearing 'cane' 'cat' and 'birch'--the last item causing him more dread than the others. Of course I didn't have a birch with me. "Oh, um--" "The strap? Does that do it for you?" "Well--y-yes, I think so, sir." The bedroom had nice ceiling anchors from which you could hang various devices. Darren was nervous. I had to break the tension. I leaned forward, my face closer to his. "Hold on to my shoulders, boy," I said, grasping his engorged penis and starting to stroke it. "Ah, ah!" "It's all right, Darren. Tell me when you feel like you're just starting to get close--nothing intense now." "Ahrrrrrr, okay sir." If he insisted on 'sir,' I wasn't going to object anymore. "You see, Darren, the whole point of an erection is a good feeling. I need you to reach that point of good feeling, over and over--the strongest you can, without coming. Of course, you'll get to come eventually." "Uhhhh! Starting to feel close, n-now." I released his cock. He closed his eyes tightly, panting a bit. "Okay, boy, masturbate for me." "Yes, sir!" he said, and began madly stroking his cock. "That's it. Good boy." I watched Darren's beautiful biceps pulsate their youthful, rapid bulges as his hand oscillated with incredible speed and agility. The boy had an interesting, almost delicate technique, partly thrusting his hips upward, the hand skillfully twisting away from his body and the end of the upstroke. He reclined almost fully, slumped completely now, his hand beating a fantastic rhythm, breath rate advancing rapidly, a deeper color in his face, sweat appearing on his brow and other places on his cute, 16-year-old body. "Ohhh, oh, yeah . . . oh YEAH." "STOP! Stop, Darren--right now!" "Sir?" he said, face contorting in agony, chest heaving with his frantic breaths. "I don't want you to come." "SIR!" he said, his whole body trembling now, "B-but--if I can come, I won't have a hardon again for a while!" "Of course you're right, Darren. No man could argue with that." "Oh, please, sir!" the boy said in panic, hand moving toward his bouncing dick. I grabbed his wrists gently. "Darren, you must understand something. Any boy can stop having an erection if he masturbates. After you come, it's easy to stay soft for a while, isn't it?" "Yes, sir, that's what I was going to say." "It wouldn't be much of a cure if I simply make it easy for you by having you shoot your load all the time. The point is for you to be trained to avoid erections when it's NOT easy. You must learn to do that at the peak of your arousal. Do you understand that?" "Um, y-yes, it makes perfect sense, sir, but I--" "I know. It will be difficult, at first, but trust me, it will get easier as I train you, as you make progress. I see from your file that you're a good, hard-working boy." At this point, Darren was staring intently, taking in every word, with the alertness that only adversity brings. This, despite the trembling in cock, limbs, and torso. "You need the stress of the most extreme conditions if you are to learn to control your penis completely, while preserving your ability to get erections when needed. So I need you to put ALL your effort into this, if it's going to work--to cure you." "Y-yes, sir. I'll do my best for you, sir!" Darren spoke so adamantly and sincerely, it was touching. I decided not to use this facility now. It was time to pull Darren in closer, while he was in this very cooperative mood. Getting him to his new, temporary home-base--my private training room attached to my quarters would effect that closeness--and would also save time, as I needed to get back to Brent, Mark, and all the boys. I took Darren to my room, explaining to him that he would be required to stay with me for the duration of his erection- training. This seemed to please the boy. I took him to one of six suspension pods in my private training room. I chose the one in the center of the room, but I would not suspend him, I would merely restrain him with his arms pulled up, feet on the floor--similar to Brent's pose when I whipped him, but without the spreader bar. I would leave his feet and legs free to move about. I called central food supply and requested the feeding tubes be activated for room 335, pod number six. These were two tubes-- one food, one water, that came down from the ceiling when activated. Soon, a small whirring could be heard as the tubes descended. Darren was wide-eyed as he watched the tubes. I had him restrained now. "How is that pose, Darren? Can you reach the tubes with your mouth? Try them out." "Yes, sir." Looking at him, I realized he might need a different arm position, since he would be restrained here for long hours, possibly, while I conducted other scenes, or went off on a dorm tour, or other fun. I rigged two new cables, from the opposing walls. Added to the ceiling cables and clipped to his cuffs, these kept the arms straight out from his body horizontally, while relieving him of their weight. It was like having him on an upright cross, without the cross itself, nor the strain. I left him plenty of slack in the cables, but nowhere near enough that there was danger of him touching his dick in any way. At the last minute, I decided to attach one-foot chains to each ankle. These chains were easily anchored to the floor. This would prevent him from raising his knee high enough to touch his penis. "Be sure to lift your legs frequently, as if walking, to keep the circulation going. And move your arms around, too." His suspended arms would keep him from falling. "Yes, sir." >From a supply cabinet behind Darren, I took oil, and a nice-sized wide strap. As in a whipping, the strap could grab and chafe or tear the skin, instead of sliding over it. The oil would keep his skin from unnecessary wounds. Darren sighed, sounding tired, as I began to apply the oil to his back. "Oh, sir," he said in an enchanting tone, "must we?" "Yes, we must. How else can we shock your body out of these random erections?" After a pause, Darren replied, "I guess . . . no other way, sir." It was a thick strap I had in my hand--about 1/4 inch thick--and three inches wide. It didn't have the two tails that a tawse would, but it would hurt him all the same. I decided to start with his fine buttocks, and work up to his ribs, making the greatest impact there, as the big strap would wrap around them, creating a whipping effect. I gave his butt the first walloping strokes. WHHHAAAAPPPP! "AHHHHrrrgghhh!" WHHHAAAAPPPP! "AHHHHrrrrgghhh!" I went on for a dozen or so strokes. Then it was time for the bad ones. He wouldn't be expecting it so rough, on his back. SSSNNNAAAAAAAPPPPP! "YEEEEEOOOOooooooooaaaahhhhhrrghhh!" And so on for a few dozen strokes, up and down his impressive young torso, until his body had squirmed and twisted sufficiently, his muscles bulged and strained--to the point the boy was at the threshold of agony. I gave the panting boy the courtesy of a wash-up and a rub with tea tree oil. I applied the oil for a great while. "Ah! OW! Ooo! Oh, sir! AH!" the boy complained, as the pressure of my hand rekindled the pain. "How does your dick feel now, Darren?" "OW! Ah! It feels . . . okay, sir. I still need to come soon," he said, swallowing hard, speaking through his shallow breaths-- his hot, pretty, sweaty face alluring signs of his great effort to endure the fierce, pounding pain. Poor boy, still clinging to the hope of early sexual release. "It feels calmer now than before?" "Yes, sir," Darren said, smiling proudly, as best he could. "Well, then, hmmm . . . . We need to give you at least SOME stimulation, to start to achieve the stress you need to effect a cure." "Yes, sir," he said brightly, despite the continuous twisting of his face. "I have this cloth," I said, finding a stim cloth in one of the supply cabinets. Stim cloth is made of a special weave of Actilon. The net effect was that the cloth 'reverberated' at the slightest movement, as when one touches a slightly stretched spring--the spring reacts by vibrating for many seconds, all by itself. The cloth would do the same, though more subtly. "Yes, sir?" he said, expecting me to continue. "I was going to wrap your cock in the cloth, but . . . even though it would help you a great deal, I think it might be too much for you, right now." This made the slim, sturdy boy stand at attention. "No, sir. Let me try. I can take it, I'm sure--anything if it would help me . . . to get out of this mess, sir." What a perfect situation. A boy with a dick that bounced violently, and a cloth that would bounce back, stimulating in return the thing that moved originally. I may have discovered the first actual perpetual-motion machine. The poor boy didn't know what he was in for. I explained how the cloth worked, and he understood this would stress his condition-- and that sufficiently stressed, his condition would 'break'--thus the cure. "Please, sir--do it!" The word, 'do' struck me, so I raised the boy as far as the cables would permit, and began slowly sucking his outraged cock-- already throbbing furiously. "Oh, God--sir! Oh, wait. No . . . please! Ohhh, uhhh, ahhh, huhhhhh, mmmm, oh, yes, yes!" I stopped just as the first pulsation of pre-orgasm hit. His penis was deliciously suckable--now bouncing in violent complaint. I used a blow dryer to dry the stiff pole, angering the thing with the flowing, pleasant warm air, gently fingering his hard flesh in the process. The boy danced with frustration, moaning and sighing in deep sexual torment, pleading and begging me to bring him off. I sucked the top half of the head of his dick for a while--just for effect, knowing that it was impossible in most cases to bring about orgasm in this manner. "Darren, you've been too quiet. You must be completely open with me--I must know all your thoughts, wants, likes, dislikes, past and present--or I won't be able to help you make progress." "Y-yes, sir." "Do you trust me Darren--enough to let me inside you?" "OH, yes, sir!" he said, on the verge of crying. "I promise I'll treasure each fact you tell me--whether or not you think it's a good fact. Everything you say will be private-- I'll do no writing of it, no reporting, it will all be just you and I finding out all about you. You ARE a good young man, Darren--worthy of help. I see you as a great boy--a contributor to your school and society." "Oh, sir, yes--yes! I understand now. I promise I won't hold back a thing! I promise!" "Wonderful, Darren," I said, patting him on the back. 'Great are the uses of adversity,' I thought briefly. "Start right now. Whatever comes to mind." "I'm a top." "I see," I said calmly. I expected ANYTHING but THAT! "And do you know why you're a top? Surely you had some bottom training, even before your sixteenth birthday. Surely you must have enjoyed some if it." "No, sir I never had it. I called out, on all the bottom training." "I see. All right." Then the boy came very close to tears. "They make me so horny!" The boy stopped suddenly, as if surprised he'd said that. "That's good, Darren, very good. This is exactly what I need, to help you." "Really?" he said, his timidity amplified now. But his demeanor slowly became more confident, the posture more erect. "Yes, absolutely. You're doing so well, so soon. Can you tell me who it is that makes you horny?" "The boys in my dorm! They're sexy, and I want to have sex with them!" His nostrils flared a bit. "Good, Darren. That's wonderful. Now, will you let me take what you said, one part at a time?" "Yes," he said, nodding, eyes very wide now. "The boys in your dorm--tell me about them." "They're all around my age, different heights, all cute, all horny, and they have sex right in front of me." "Good. Is it them, or the sex you see them have that makes you horny?" "It's them--but it drives me crazy when I see them having sex!" "Yes, okay, you did say before that you wanted to have sex with them. Hold on a moment, I have to adjust your arousal level," I said, bending again and gently sucking his aching, tasty cock. "Ahh, ahhh, ohhhh!" His voice flooded with frustration as I stopped. "There, that's better. So, I get the feeling from what you told me, that these boys aren't having sex with you. Is that true?" "Yes! Yes! They only want to fuck me! And . . . it's because I don't want that--and I won't do that--that's why they reject me!" "Oh, yes. Now I see. That must be painful for you." "Yes! I just want to be wanted for me! Not my assho--OH! Sorry, sir." "Don't be sorry that's fine. I want you to listen very carefully now. You can say anything to me, use any words, cuss up storm, as long as it's you, talking." "Oh, sir!" the relief and smile on the boy's face was priceless. I gave him a warm hug. "You're doing very well, Darren," I said sensually, my breath tickling his ear. That made his cock throb a bit more eagerly--not that it needed the help. "Why don't you write down the other things on your mind now, and we'll get to them later. I'd like to finish up with what we have on the table now. Is that all right?" "Yes, sir," Darren said, taking the pad and pencil from me. He wrote some key words on the pad, and looked up. "Very good. Let me have that, I'll keep it safe for you. So, how would you sum up what we talked about today?" "I just want one of them--one of them to want me--to say, 'Hey I like you--I want you.' Really that's it." I leaned back in my chair, pondering. "Darren, pay close attention now. Have you ever fucked a boy?" "Yes. Twice, when I was fourteen." "And how was it?" "It was wonderful--fulfilling or something." "Exactly. Very good. Now I want you to think of the nicest, sweetest boy in your dorm. He doesn't need to be someone who is sweet to you, just a nice boy. Can you see him in your mind?" "Oh, yes! It's Kirk. He's beautiful." "Wonderful. Would you say he's a smart boy? Intelligent?" "Yes." "Now try hard--I want you to think of him a little differently, just for now. Envision his intelligence, rationality, separated from his body, his animal urges. Try that now. Take some time with that." There was a minute or so pause. "Okay, I think I got it." "Now look only at the animal part of him--or, since you can't really see that, grasp the idea of animal urges, not directed by the thinking part of the brain." "Okay. I can." "Hold that thought for a moment. Let him be just a body to you for now--all muscle, sinew, and animal urges." "Okay." "Now slowly, slowly, put your mind in that body . . . let the image clarify and sink in." "Wow. It's powerful . . . I'm seeing it--feeling it." "Good boy. Now, you must take your mind and go back to age fourteen, when you were fucking your friend--no thoughts now-- only that body--physical, animal feelings. What do you feel?" "My cock. Just my cock." "The rest of the body fades, and it's just your cock now?" "Yes." "Look at your friend--no thoughts now, just raw images. He's naked, his bare butt is in the air. Now don't fuck him yet. Look at him, let the animal desires come out. What do you have now?" "All I want to do is put it in him. When I see his butt, I feel something strong in my dick." "Yes. Now let it happen." "I rush over to him--I'm there in a second, and I just push my cock in him." "Okay, Darren. Now slowly add back some of your mind, let your recognition and identity be controlled by your body--his body. Slowly let some thoughts come, as you look at yourself, with your cock in your friend." "OH MY God! It's HIM! I'm Kirk! And I just need my cock in my friend so bad--it's me! It's HIM! That's what I want--it's what he wants!" The stunned boy babbled as his insight wore away at old, wrong concepts. "Yes." "And now that I have my cock in him I feel something--I wanna hug my friend--I feel love for him!" "Yes." "Phil! This is incredible! I understand Kirk now!" "I'm very gratified for you, Darren. Boys often need their cocks in something for starters. Then they can start feeling and wanting. Without that powerful sexual contact--well . . . it would be like you trying to masturbate without touching your dick to anything." "YES!" "So, if I give you bottom training, you won't call out?" The boy hissed, through facial contortions of pain, "No, okay, I won't call out, but--not the big ones please." "Of course. Sure. You're a virgin. You're tight, and you don't want the pain." Darren blushed profusely. "Yes." "I wished I were a virgin. Virginity is a wonderful thing to have. And you didn't waste yours on someone of something foolish. You're more grown up now, and you can give wisely." "Wow. Yeah," Darren said, loosening up now. "Okay. Would you be interested if I told you I have two, very cute, very horny boys, thirteen and fourteen years old, with nice smaller dicks, three to five inches, who are helping a nice seventeen-year-old boy with the biggest problem of his life? They would love to help you and break you in." "I'm tempted, Phil, but . . . . Can it be Kirk? Can you bring him here--I don't care about the pain if it's him." I gave that a lot of thought. "If it's not against the rules, Yes, I'll arrange it. But I'll only bring him here if he wants you. And it will be only the one time, until you're cured. And you'll need to agree to bottom training with my devices and my boys after Kirk. But if it's just going to be a joy fuck for Kirk--and I'll know in advance-- then the deal is off. Do you agree?" "Oh, yes!" "You're on, Darren." "Oh God, yes!" "It's a good thing that chair is leather, with all the pre-um you spilled on it," I said, smiling. "Oh, God! I'm sorry." I sucked his cock again for a short time. "Ah! Oh, oh no, no. Uhhh!" I went through the warm-air drying treatment of his dick again, causing the boy more frustration and pain in his cock and balls, from the Endorlone and the prostatic pressure that built up very powerfully over the last 20 minutes. "Oh, oh, OW! AH!" Then I applied the stim cloth, wrapping it just to the proper tension around his agonized, excruciatingly stiff cock--and secured the cloth with its special mounting ties. I considered other things. A butt-plug was too risky, given the young age of the boy and his current high level of arousal. I looked at Darren and his cock, waiting for the cloth to do its job. "I can feel . . . oh yes, it's working sir," Darren said with some alarm, staring at the wicked stim cloth, now sending its first little vibrations to his hard, sensitive flesh. "Uhh, mmm, ohh--what if I come, sir?" "Do you think you can come, Darren, without touching your dick?" "Not really, sir," the boy said, giving it a second thought. "Good. Just resist the cloth in your mind. That will be your first valuable lesson," I said, knowing the effects of the stim cloth would be cumulative, reaching a sort of critical mass, called the 'breakthrough point'--the moment when the reverberations of the cloth begin to torture the subject. But from past experience, I knew the cloth would not induce orgasm. I postponed the use of testosterone and Sence-Excel as a means of piquing Darren's sexual craving--and timed my exit to coincide with my estimate of his breakthrough point. The subtle vibrations of the fiendish cloth would penetrate deep into his young cock, any moment now. Through the front door of my quarters, I could hear the boy begin to moan, after I locked the entrance and began walking down the hall. "Ah! Oh, God, oh! Oh. Oh! Oh! SIR! Oh, God, please . . . Ahrrrgghhh! . . . Nooooooooooooo! FUCK!" TBC? (Scroll down for updated list of my stories) Steve stevestoryman@yahoo.com (text only) Comments welcome. I'll reply to all substantial. STEVE STORYMAN'S STORIES AT: www.nifty.org (Approximate Age Ranges represent current and future characters) 1. hot-little-brother-series 9 CHAPTERS SO FAR Nifty Incest/Athletics A slim 18 y/o athlete wants his 16 y/o brother; caring; some football & locker room fun; no long game-scenes. Kevin & Josh. (Ages 15-22) 2. i-wanted-my-big-brother 3 CHAPTERS SO FAR Nifty Incest A hot 15 y/o admires and pursues his brother--a sexy, 17 y/o high-school quarterback; caring; no sports scenes. Chad and Adam. (Ages 15-19) 3. hot-teen-brian 3 CHAPTERS SO FAR Nifty Adult-Youth A cute, smooth 17 y/o and some of his older friends discover a liking for younger guys; hot fun; all consensual; Goes deep into Brian's thoughts. Brian, Peter, Matt & friends. (Ages 10-32; Most action: 13 to 19) 4. boys-joys-and-sorrows-at-sex-ed-school 4 CHAPTERS SO FAR Nifty Adult-Youth Teens trained for mutual sex; some spank, paddling, etc; no cruelty; some orgasm-delay teasing; exciting; individual and classroom/group punishment scenes; all consensual; group and couple's sexual scenes. (Ages 13-35; Most action: ages 13-20) stevestoryman@yahoo.com (text only)