Date: Wed, 30 Mar 2005 18:04:11 +0100 (BST) From: WILL OBE Subject: OBEYING NATURE 13 On Monday morning, much to my relief, my boss at the office agrees to my request to take off the next Friday and Monday. Mark phones me in the evening to say he's arranged for Don to cut my hair the following evening. I'm not very happy. The one thing I thought he would never do is make me have my wavy blond hair cut. It's a huge test of my obedience. However, on Tuesday I go straight to the barber after work. There is no repeat of the humiliating shaving I'd endured on my first visit. The place is too busy. I wait until Don is free. "Okay boy, you next." I take my place in his chair. He drapes his cloth around me and at the same time gropes my crutch. "Short back and sides is it?" I stare at him wild eyed in the mirror. Don looks back at me, a scowl on his face. "Master Mark has given me strict orders Ian boy." Then he smiles and I breathe a sigh of relief. He's joking. Even so, the haircut is quite drastic. He thins out my wavy hair on top and by the time he's finished, it's less than collar length at the back. Not quite short back and sides, but shorter than its ever been since I was sixteen. At the office I tell everyone it's easier to cope with. On Thursday Mark rings with further instructions. "I'll pick you up at eight in the morning, be ready." "Yes Master." "Jeans, shirt, boots and your toilet bag. That's all you'll need. Okay?" "Yes sir." He rings off. I'm left to wonder what this weekend with Master Charles is going to be about. I'd heard them talking about S, N and K, but even though I'm now more knowledgeable about the world of Masters and slaves, I can't fathom what the letters might stand for. On Friday morning at ten to eight I'm waiting outside my block of flats wearing my collar, jeans and shirt and holding my toilet bag. Mark arrives twenty minutes later in his BMW. As we start off, my Master places a hand between my thighs and controls the car single-handed. We're heading west out of town on the motorway. It's a bright sunny morning. We pass the airport and then Windsor Castle over to the left. "Your hair looks okay." "Thank you Sir." "Don't worry it will grow again. For this visit it needs to be shorter." "Yes Sir." Why shorter? We turn off the motorway into the green and fresh countryside. A pleasure to see. We turn down a narrow country lane with thick hedges on either side. We pass through no villages or even the odd cottage. Mark slows down. We stop at the end of a farm track guarded by a cattle grid. "Get out boy." I do as I'm told. "Now give me your clothes and collar. Everything." I strip off my shirt, jeans and boots. Then my collar. "Put them on the back seat. Keep your toilet bag." My Master points to the farm track. "Walk up the track. You'll see a green hut. Go in and obey the instructions you find there." He drives off as I walk towards the cattle grid. Without my collar I feel even more naked. What if a car comes along? The sun's warm and the walk is enjoyable except for the vulnerability of being completely naked. I see no cattle only a few grazing sheep. After ten minutes I see the green hut standing back from the track in the shade of an old oak tree. Turning the handle on the door, I enter. On the table is a printed list of instructions and next to it a pile of clothes and other items. The list is headed in capital letters 'S STANDS FOR SCHOOL'. That's one mystery solved and sounds less ominous than what I had been thinking it might mean. I don the clothes in the order listed. First, surprisingly, a pair of tight white briefs. A buttoned grey shirt and a striped tie not dissimilar to the one I'd worn at school. Tight grey shorts with an inseam measuring no more that a few inches. Then a pair of knee length fold down grey socks and lace-up black shoes. In a mirror on the wall I can see the shorts are tight enough to show off my well-rounded backside and so short they reveal a lot of sunburnt thighs down to my knees. The grey blazer, trimmed with blue is short enough not to hide my bottom. Lastly, to complete this bizarre outfit, there's an English schoolboy's cap. I set it on my head and now understand the reason for the haircut. As per final instruction, I put my toilet bag into the brown leather school satchel and place the carrying strap across my shoulders. I look like an adult version of an eleven-year old boy starting secondary school. I smile to myself several times as I continue walking up the track. If this is training, it's the most ridiculous thing my Master has made me do. Walking down a city street as an adult schoolboy would have been humiliating, here, with no one to see me, it seems silly. I'm beginning to sweat in the uniform. Master Charles's house is an ancient looking farmhouse built from yellow Cotswold stone. I reach the front porch. The door is open so I walk in. Facing me in the centre of a large room is a severe looking Master Charles wearing a schoolmaster's gown and holding a cane with a curved handle. Standing at attention in a line behind him are four other adult schoolboys dressed in identical uniforms to my own. To my utter amazement I recognise them all. Terry, Don's slave; Christian, Jason's slave; Gary, Doug's slave; and biggest surprise of all, Henry, David's boyfriend. They all look unhappy. And as stupid in their uniforms as I do in mine, There are no smiles of welcome. "You're late boy", states Master Charles. "I'm sorry sir." "Take off your satchel and touch your toes." My shorts stretch to seam splitting tightness as I bend over. The cane cracks down against my bare upper thigh. I yelp and jump around clutching my backside. "Bend over boy." Five more lashes follow. Each time I yell out, leap around and try to ease the pain with my hands before resuming the position. The pain's excruciating. By the sixth my eyes are watering. "Get into line with the others boy." Sniffling I stand to attention next to Christian. Master Charles launches into a lengthy lecture about what we are and what we can expect. We are dressed as schoolboys because we need educating about how much lower we must come to think of ourselves if we are to be acceptable as slaves. The main lessons will be in obedience and personal hygiene. These will be followed by two other sessions he'll explain later. Swishing his cane through the air he ends by saying any mistakes or signs of obedience will be punished severely. He walks behind us. "Do you understand?" We all mumble a yes. I feel his cane lashing my thighs and hear it lashing the others. They scream out as I do. "Do you understand?" "Yes sir." A chorus of shouts. Master Charles walks back to face us. "Better. Now to assist me with your education I have recruited two other teachers who join us now." I hear two sets of feet descending the staircase at the back of the room. They come into view and stand on either side of Master Charles. They both wear schoolmaster's gowns and carry canes. I know them both. "May I introduce Master Jim on my right." Master Jim, my tormentor at "The Den", wears full leather gear under his gown and carries a cane. He nods grimly. "And Master Cliff on my left." Master Cliff, the caning hotel Receptionist, wearing jeans and tee shirt under his gown, grins and flexes a cane between his hands. "Now, follow me to the classroom." We follow him into a room on the right. Five individual school desks face a high schoolmaster's desk and a blackboard and easel. Master Charles stands next to the blackboard and his two assistants stand behind us as we take our seats. Master Charles chalks up 'OBEDIENCE' on the blackboard. Over the next two hours we come to know what he means by obedience. He picks on Henry, the least experienced of his pupils, to demonstrate what it's about. Henry being the tallest and most muscular of the pupil's looks particularly silly in his school uniform. He blushes constantly. He's ordered to bow his head and puts his hands on the back of his head. He admits he was last caned at school. He's ordered to bend over so we have a view of his big, well-rounded bottom and naked pink thighs. Master Charles gives him several hard whacks for not keeping his legs apart. Henry whimpers and quickly spreads his legs. Master Charles reaches under his pupil, unfastens his shorts and pulls them down to his knees. The white briefs follow and the shirttail is tucked up. I've a feeling this is the first time Henry has been displayed. He's told to count out the ten strokes he's promised. By the third hard whack, Henry loses control and stands up clutching his marked arse. Master Charles signals for his assistants to come forward. They bend Henry down and each grip him firmly by his arms and shoulders. He's now told he'll receive twenty for daring to move. The strokes are given firmly and steadily. Henry shouts out his thanks and the numbers, but after five his legs are kicking wildly. Jim and Cliff each entwine a leg around Henry's legs and he's unable to move. The cane crashes down without respite. The thanks and numbers can hardly be heard above the sound of his yells, blubbering and his futile appeals for the punishment to end. After twenty his arse is covered with red and purple welts. We, the pupils, remain silent knowing it could have been any one of us. We're learning the school and its uniform may have seemed silly when we arrived, but the punishment is vicious and for real. Jim and Cliff, breathless from holding the struggling slave, laugh together. Henry's made to face the class with his shorts and briefs down at his ankles. His cock hangs limp and he's in some distress. His adult tear stained face is red. He manages a brave smile for us. Perhaps to show he's now one of us. He's ordered to stand in the corner. Restricted by his shorts, he shuffles into a corner at the front of the class. He's told to bow his head, hold up his shirt and keep his legs apart. His marked bottom is a warning to us all. Master Charles lifts his cane and points at me "You next." I blink my eyes in shock. I'd been assuming the demonstration with Henry was it. How wrong to assume anything! Without waiting to be told Cliff and Jim drag me from my desk, unfasten my shorts, take them and my briefs down and bend me over in front of the other pupils. "Ten for you boy. Count them out." Master Charles decides. With the two assistants holding me as they had Henry, I manage to get away with just the ten, but if anything, I squeal louder and weep even more than Henry. I'm made to shuffle off and stand alongside Henry. I hear Terry, Christian and Gary all being given ten wicked strokes. They come to stand in line and we all hold up our shirts to show off our marked bottoms to our three Masters. We all cry like kids because that was their aim. We look stupid in our uniforms, but that's intended too. I begin to realise this weekend is going to rid us of any remaining 'attitude' we have about our true position as slaves. An hour later, Master Cliff returns. He walks along the row of pupils fondling us in turn. I'm erect as soon as he takes hold of my cock. He twists my nipples hard and slaps my bottom before moving on to Henry. At Cliff's order we pull up our shorts and he leads us under the staircase to the large farmhouse kitchen. A fat, repulsive looking older man in his fifties wearing nothing but a short white tunic is ladling out food into five bowls on a table. Beside each bowl are spoons and a hunk of brown bread. We sit down and eat. Cliff tells us if we leave anything Master Eddie, the cook, has authority to deal with us. I taste the food and find it's soup made from chicken, potatoes and beans. Not awful, but rather tasteless like the school meals I remember. The bread's better. Gary eats a few spoonfuls and pushes his bowl away. "You don't like it?" Eddie said. "Not really" replies Gary. "That's good, you can eat this." Master Eddie lifts his tunic and pushes Gary's mouth down on his hard stubby cock. We all watch in horror as this ugly creature face-fucks Gary and unloads his thick spunk down Gary's throat and over his face. As Gary rushes off to wash himself, the rest of us gobble the rest of the soup. Eddie sits back and laughs. Master Jim arrives, swinging a leather strap, and escorts us to our sleeping quarters. It's a long room on the first floor with three single beds along each wall. At the end of the room are a large open shower space, a wash hand basin and a toilet without a seat. Master Jim allocates a bed to each of us and tells us to strip and hang our clothes on the pegs above our beds. He walks around lashing our legs and backsides to encourage us to undress quickly. We're ordered to stand with arms outstretched. Master Jim runs his hands over us to make sure our faces, armpits and groins are totally smooth. Henry dares to smile as Master Jim, who is at least a foot shorter, feels his balls. "Kiss my boots boy." Henry somewhat reluctantly kneels down and kisses the smaller Master's boots. "Stand up and touch your toes boy, feet apart." Master Jim orders the much bigger man. Looking angry and on the point of revolt, Henry hesitates. "Touch your toes boy, now." Blushing, Henry submissively bends over. Master Jim grips Henry's head between his leather clad thighs and gives Henry five stinging lashes on each arse cheek. Henry, groaning, falls to his knees as he is released. "Time to check for personal hygiene." Declares Master Jim. We stand naked by our beds as Master Jim collects a length of toilet paper from the roll at the side of the toilet. He points at me. "You boy, bend over and spread your cheeks." Having my puckered hole on view to all these men is still a humiliation. I bend over and pull my cheeks wide. Master Jim hands Christian a piece of toilet paper. "Wipe his arse." This is humiliating. I feel Christian's fingers probing my arse crack as he wipes it. "Show it to me boy." I stand up and watch as Christian opens the paper for Master Jim. It's clean. I knew it would be. "Did you have an enema this morning boy?" "Yes Sir. I always have three." "Hold up your hands those who had enemas this morning?" Christian, Terry and Gary raise their hands. I feel for Henry as he doesn't raise his hand and Master Jim points at him. "Right boy, bend over and spread your cheeks." Henry reluctantly bends over and pulls his large red cheeks apart. I harden up at the sight. Master Jim hands me a piece of toilet paper. "Wipe his arse." I have to admit I enjoy doing it. He's such a big hunky guy, but. I try not to wipe Henry's tight pink anus too deep or too hard. "Show it to me boy." Master Jim grabs Henry by his hair and drags him to the shower. "Kneel boy. Let me show you what happens to filthy pupils." Master Jim unzips his leather jeans, brings out his half-hard penis and pisses all over Henry's hair and body. Henry crouches down and covers his head with his hands. I doubt that this has ever happened to him before. "Now, the rest of you, piss on him." It's an order from a Master. We all gather around the shower area and piss on the hapless Henry. "Lift your head up boy. Open your mouth. Drink their piss." Streams of piss splash into his mouth and across his face. Eyes shut, Henry splutters and swallows. It suddenly occurs to me as I aim for his mouth that perhaps, like all of us, this is what he really wants. Master Jim has not finished with Henry yet. He clearly resents this much bigger guy, but I've a feeling he gets off humiliating and punishing him. "Time to demonstrate the enema technique on this filthy pupil." Master Jim takes an enema kit from a cupboard on the wall marked medicine and hands it to Gary. For the next hour David is given repeated enemas. He grimaces, groans and whimpers. He sits red faced on the toilet and expels each time in front of us. Master Jim eventually leaves and we shower and rest on our beds. Henry has the bed next to mine. I'm curious to know how he comes to be a pupil. "Who sent you here?" I ask him. "David." I can't believe this. David's a selfish bastard, but he's not interested in having a slave. At least that's what I thought. "He threatened to have nothing more to do with me unless I came here. So I came. I'll do anything he wants. He said I needed to be taught submission. It's more difficult than I expected." I'm about to ask more questions when Master Jim returns. We jump to our feet and stand by our beds like army recruits. Master Jim hands out striped pyjama jackets to each of us, but no pyjama trousers. It's 6pm and he leads us down to the kitchen in just out pyjama tops for supper. Master Eddie is there ladling out the same sort of soup and bread. At 7pm Master Jim orders us to bed and lashes our bare bottoms as we pass him. We lie in our beds, most of us on our sides to spare our sore bottoms, and try to sleep. I nod off, but shouts and the blanket being pulled off awaken me. Master Charles, Master Cliff and Master Jim stand in the centre of the dormitory. We all leap to our feet and stand by our beds. Master Charles walks around and with his cane lifts the front of our pyjama jackets to inspect our pricks. Probably because of all the sexual stimulation throughout the day without release, his pupils all have hard-ons. He flicks Henry's thighs with his cane. "I'll take this one." Henry follows Master Charles out of the room. Master Cliff orders first me and then Gary to kiss his shoes. We continue kneeling half-naked at his feet as he strips off his clothes. I hear Master Jim ordering Christian and Terry to kiss his boots. Side by side the two Masters make use of their chosen slaves. I'm made to bend over and suck Master Cliff's beautiful big cock with my arms wrapped around his muscular body. Gary, behind me, is told to eat out my arse. I can feel his tongue thrusting into my hole as I'm face-fucked by the handsome, lithe-bodied, Cliff. As he begins to gasp, nearing orgasm, he switches to my arse and rams his manhood into me. Gary, in dominant mode, face-fucks me eagerly. This is worth being a role-playing adult schoolboy. I close my eyes and fantasise about being used by my schoolmaster and a school prefect. As soon as Cliff shoots his load into me he pushes Gary off my face before he can cum. Gary and I lie on the floor watching Jim and Christian using Terry. Master Jim spanks Terry's back in time to the thrusts he's making into the slave's arse. He finally cums with a series of loud moans. Cliff quickly pulls Christian's rock hard penis away from Terry's mouth. The reason for preventing Christian and Gary from cumming becomes clear. Terry and I are to be used again. We're both forced down and positioned on all fours ready for breeding. We are mounted doggy style by the sexually frustrated slaves. Christian needs no urging to plunge his rampant tool into me and, as we've been trained, we both put on a fucking exhibition for Master Cliff and Master Jim. Gary and Terry are performing alongside us and it becomes a race as to which bitch will be impregnated first. "I'm cumming you white bitch, I'm cumming... arrrgh." Christian shouts and wins the fuck competition. The Masters go off, presumably to clean up, in their own rooms. The rest of us shower and clean the spunk out of our mouths and holes. As we relax afterwards in our beds, Master Jim returns. He surveys us all, but then points at me. "Out here boy and bend over." He speaks quietly. Hasn't he done enough beating for one day? And why pick on me? After Henry I've a feeling I'm the one he enjoys using and humiliating. He remembers me from the episode at 'The Den'. I bend over, feet apart. Instead of the cane or strap I hear his zip and feel his half-hard cock pushing into my arsehole. He pulls my naked bottom tightly up against his leather-clad body. Then I feel his piss. Spurting into me. Filling me. He pulls out and zips up. "Stay like that boy. I'll be back." Master Jim strides out of the room and leaves me in full view of my other friends. I can't help it, his piss begins to leak out. I squeeze my sphincter muscles, but it still leaks. It runs down my legs and forms a pool around my feet. Please let me have your views on whether you like this school episode. Will Obe (c) Copyright