Rugby Training: A Hard Lesson - Part 7

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`So', said Coach Briar into Malcolm's ear, `nipple clamps or ball weights?'

After a brief moment's pause, Malcolm replied with confidence: `Ball weights, Sir'. With that, the noise of solid metal objects banging and scraping against each other filled the small room. Suddenly, Malcolm felt his Coach's hands start grabbing and gently tugging on his balls, to loosen up the skin around his sack. Then, what felt like the edge of a string was placed along the underside, pulling up towards his cock. The string was then crossed over the front of his balls at which point a snap could be heard, followed by another. Then, with coach's hand placed on the side of Malcolm's thigh, a weight was applied to the string and a significant but not unpleasant pulling sensation started on Malcolm's ball sack. He immediately got a hard-on but was then confused when he heard the same two clicking sounds about 10 seconds later.

Malcolm hesitated for a moment, overwhelmed by how hot this had just become. He could hear, feel and smell Coach's breath on his face, heavy and sweaty but not unpleasant. Just then, the latch door to Coach Briar's office opened and Luke -- bucking his head to get through the low-frame -- entered the room, walking to Malcolm's left hand side, standing at attention ready for his instructions, legs apart. `It is ready', announced Luke to Coach Briar. It was clear that he had just finished whatever task he had been given. `Good boy', replied Coach Briar. As light flooded the space, Malcolm suddenly saw straight into Coach Briar's completely still eyes, which were no more than 20cm in front of him and staring straight back. Coach Briar had motioned to Luke not to close the door behind him but rather to let some light shine in. In those wide, black pupils, Malcolm could see his Coach's wild, untamed excitement at the prospect of arranging, experiencing, controlling and sensing the pain he was about to apply to Malcolm's body. Slowly, he moved his hands to Malcolm's shoulders, stroking his skin as he moved his fingers down to Malcolm's nipples. As he began to gently squeeze the tips of Malcolm's nipples, Malcolm let out a moan of satisfaction and a sly smile began to spread over Coach's face. It was then that Malcolm realised what the second set of clicking was: it appeared that coach had applied the same ball weights to himself using not a string, as Malcolm had thought, but a sort of funnel, like what dogs have on their necks after an operation. Attached to this funnel were three chains leading down to a hook on which a solid, circular black weight was gently swinging back and forwards.

`Looks like you are used to that now.', said Coach Briar and, with that, he reached his arm out to the shelf on the right and picked up two more of the black weights and leant down to hang one of them from Malcolm's funnel. Malcolm tried to control his reactions as the weight pulled on his balls and the anatomy of his inner abdomen. Standing up straight again, Coach Briar then hooked the second weight to his own funnel and let it drop down under its own weight to hit the first ball with a small bang, causing the funnel to visibly tug at his sack. Coach Briar let out a deep moan of satisfaction as he closed his eyes and moved his head back slightly. Placing his hands back on Malcolm's shoulders, he began to push him backwards and forwards, causing Malcolm to swing on the ropes suspending him in mid-air. The effect was to make the ball weights pendulate and produce extra forces on his balls from the momentum of the swinging. Malcolm had never experienced this before, but it was far from unpleasant. `Look at me', said Coach Briar, staring into Malcolm's eyes. `Take it', he said as he increased the force on Malcolm's shoulders. Malcolm looked straight up into Coach Briar's eyes as the forces being applied to his balls gradually increased. Somehow, looking at his Coach created a mutual bond, a sense of group complicity. Moreover, looking into Coach's eyes made him want to take it. In fact, a voice in the back of Malcolm's head was telling him to ask his Coach to apply more weight, but the voice of shame in the front of his head stopped his mouth from speaking or making a sound. Malcolm just took the sensations in silence, staring straight ahead at his Coach, as his thick arms pushed against his shoulders and rocked his body backwards and forwards.

Coach moved his face to the side of Malcolm's so he could talk straight into his ear, letting his stubble rub against Malcolm's face along the way. After a short pause, Coach said: `I think we can be honest with each other. Pretty much every other player that has been in this situation and been given the choice of having nipple clamps or ball weights has not reacted positively to that question. Okay, they didn't use their safe word -- part of them was still intrigued -- but they took on the challenge begrudgingly. But you are different, and that is what is pleasing me. I think you are smart enough to realise that what I said before about "me not enjoying this" owes a debt to the truth. In fact, I am going to be completely honest with you: I am a sadist.' Coach Briar left a brief pause for the statement to resonate. `Maybe you're asking yourself what that means. Well, it means that I enjoy playing with pain, where I am the giver.' He reached down to the weights on Malcolm's balls and began to swing them more aggressively. `I enjoy playing with other guys who enjoy being given pain -- masochists -- and that can be for many reasons. Most guys enjoy it for the challenge of being pushed, stretched to their threshold. And I enjoy taking them there. Not only because it gets me hard, though it does, but because I enjoy seeing people at their best. When a guy is challenged -- regardless of what the challenge is -- the natural drive is to overcome that challenge in order to prove or maintain their sense of masculinity. Their manliness. Men have this in-built need to prove themselves, to not give up. But the nature of pain is that it can sometimes have no limits -- after all, pain is just information being sent to your brain. If, for example, I apply electro-stimulation to your cock, then -- unlike the ball-weights you are currently enjoying (and by the way, those weights will soon get much heavier) -- there is no physical stress as the intensity increases. Whereas sufficient weight will damage your balls, electro -- ignoring the complications you could experience once you reach huge voltages -- doesn't do any damage while still delivering incredible levels of pain at very moderate voltages. What this means is that you can be trained to ignore the `information' being supplied to your brain and deal with it. Trust me, there is nothing more beautiful than seeing the look in a man's eyes as he battles his own head in order to avoid accepting defeat and the resulting dent in his masculinity.'

Malcolm instinctively looked down and saw Coach's fully erect penis. He was controlling his hip movements so that the ball weights were swinging almost to their maximum and the head of Coach's penis was oozing huge globs of pre-cum. He obviously wasn't lying.

`And part of me suspects that you want to experience this. I've seen you on the pitch and I know how much you enjoy pushing yourself. You certainly have this in-built desire to prove yourself. So, I invite you to embrace what is happening to you, to test yourself in an open environment. If you want to see how far you can push yourself, then I am more than willing to help you with that. No shame. No judgements. I think deep inside every guy, there is a part of him that wants to know how far they can go. So if, while we are playing this little game of ours, you want to help drive, feel free to take that initiative. If you need help from Luke or me in order to take more, then just tell us. This is your opportunity to experience unbelievable levels of pain in a safe environment with two guys who want to help you through it. Or at least one guy who wants to help you do it, and maybe a bit beyond. The other guy just follows orders.' Coach Briar moved back in front of Malcolm's face and -- turning his head towards Luke -- gave him a wink. `Yes Sir!', replied Luke instinctively. `I'll leave you to guess who is who.', said Coach Briar, as the corner of his mouth curled into a smile.

`But that requires something', continued Coach. `You're going to have to tell that voice in your head that wants to resist this to stand down and let that other voice, the one that is telling you how much you want this, to take over'.

Although he didn't want to show it, this last sentence worried Malcolm. How did Coach Briar know?

`And just in case you're wondering', continued Coach Briar. `I know that you're thinking this because that is what I was thinking during my first time. Something tells me that we aren't all that different. So, take a deep breath, look at me and tell me what you want. No judgements. No shame... Just tell me what you want.'

Malcolm took a moment and looked straight into Coach's eyes. He did want to experience this. And he did want to prove himself. He also knew what he wanted. But was he brave enough to say it? He carried on looking into Coach Briar's eyes and felt the trust between them. Coach Briar returned his hands to Malcolm's shoulders and begin once again to swing him. It was now or never. And then, closing his eyes, he said it as his heart pounded in his throat: `Sir, I want to have my pain limit tested and find out how far I can go. I want to see how much of a man I am and then aim to increase it.' Suddenly, Coach Briar yelled, `OPEN YOUR EYES BOY!' and Malcolm opened them to see Coach Briar staring straight at him. This stirred Malcolm on further. `I want to arrive at training and know that my tolerance has been defined so that I can not only be taken back to that level of punishment with no get-out clause, but can be pushed further and further to tolerate ever heavier treatment.' Coach Briar shouted again, `AND WHO IS GOING TO BE PUNISHING YOU?'. `YOU, SIR!' shouted Malcolm back. `GOOD BOY!', replied Coach Briar, returning his mouth back to Malcolm's ear. `Boy, I'm going to turn you into a fucking pain monster.', he whispered. `I am going to go to my office and stink up my pits for you, then the real pain will begin.', and with that, Coach Briar grabbed and squeezed Malcolm's nipples until he was face and eyes were screwed up. Coach Briar let his nipples go. `We'll do that again, boy', he said, and grabbed Malcolm's nipples for a second time. Malcolm knew what he needed to do. As the pain flooded through his nipples again, he adjusted his sense of determination and stared straight at Coach Briar. As he did this, the pain changed -- no longer was it something being done *to* him, but rather the pain felt like a direct connection between Coach Briar and himself, and he liked it. Coach Briar noticed the change immediately, `Can you feel me, boy?'. Malcolm answered with his eyes. `When you feel that pain, you are feeling me. From now on, I am pain to you. And you are going to like it.' Malcolm felt Coach Briar's fingers relax against his nipples, which caused a new round of pain as the blood flowed back into the area. Malcolm caught his breath.

`So, let's do this as we agreed. I am going to go and stink up my pits for you. You'll no doubt be able to hear me working out through the door. Be patient though -- the longer you wait, the more rancid the sweat smell you'll get to enjoy. Meanwhile, Luke is going to start applying more weights to your balls -- by the time I get back, there is to be at least 3 times as much weight applied. So, that'll bring us up to... 400g. From there, we can work on hitting a kilo. And trust me, we will be hitting a kilo before you leave.'

With that, Coach Briar stood up straight and walked towards the door, ball weights swinging freely between his legs. Luke then moved round and took Coach's place, starting to gently play with Malcolm's nipples, preparing to apply more weight to his balls. However, Malcolm didn't take his eyes off of Coach Briar's back as he left the room. And then, just before he bent down to go through the door, Coach Briar stopped. Turning again towards Malcolm, he walked back and stood at Malcolm`s side while Luke continued to play with his nipples. Clearing his throat, he knelt down and spoke into Malcolm's ear. He paused for a few seconds -- or just long enough for Malcolm to get nervous. Then, he said, `just remember -- from now on, you are my pain slave. And I am your pain Master. That is how you I am going to refer to you, and -- much more importantly -- that is exactly how you are going to refer to me. So, who am I?'.

Malcolm was torn -- his cock wanted this so badly, but his shame ripped him apart. After a few seconds, Coach Briar repeated the question. `I said, who am I?', moving his exposed armpit just out of reach of Malcolm's tongue. The smell pushed Malcolm over the edge. `You are my Pain Master, Sir', said Malcolm sheepishly. `No, no, no. That isn't how a pain slave answers his Pain Master, is it. If you want to experience real pain, then we are going to need to work together.' Gently pushing Luke out of the way, Coach Briar moved round to the front of Malcolm and allowed Malcolm's face to rest on his chest hair.

Coach Briar grabbed Malcolm's nipples hard, but Malcolm managed to keep his reaction under control. `TELL ME PAIN SLAVE, WHO AM I?', repeated Coach Briar at full volume. In that moment, Malcolm's defences couldn't help but crumble. He wanted this -- he knew how much he had wanted this since the day he had first met Coach Briar. `YOU ARE MY PAIN MASTER, SIR! AND I WANT YOU TO HURT ME', shouted Malcolm back. `GOOD PAIN SLAVE!', shouted Coach Briar in the deep voice he reserved for when he was especially pleased. `I am going to take you on a journey you never thought possible -- and, if you trust me, then I promise that you are going to love every minute of it. I'm going to teach you what the word `agony' really means. But first, let's get these pits fit for use. Oh, and -- by the way -- the game we started playing with these ball weights has been changed. The pre-defined level of pain as discussed previously is gone. We are just going to keep going until we find your limit. And then, once we've found it, we're going to start playing with it. And playing with it. And playing with it. Okay pain slave?'

Malcolm was in ecstacy: `Yes Pain Master!'.

`Good boy. Now, enjoy your introduction with Luke and we'll see each other again once everything is ready.', whispered Coach Briar. And with that, he stood up, walked over to the door and left the room, ball weights swinging. In the distance, Malcolm could hear the sound of Coach Briar changing into his training top, then the sound of weights being slid onto a barbell and the clank of metal against metal as Coach Briar began chest presses.

Luke walked over to the door and shut it, sending the room back into darkness.

`Looks like you're going to be made into a man, boy', said Luke.

`Yes Sir', said Malcolm, loving the feeling of calling Luke Sir.

Luke paused for a moment, realising what Malcolm had just called him. He liked it a lot. Grabbing a ball weight from the shelf to his right, he threw it gently in the air and caught it again. `So', he said softly, `the training is on'.