Date: Mon, 21 Apr 2014 00:54:57 +0200 From: James Wilson Subject: Slave Processing and Training Slave Processing and Training NOTE: Whilst this story is about the processing and training of a slave, it also features heavily my other fetish ? nylon jackets and their abuse. Please send any comments to nuptseboy@fsmail.net I am always interested to hear what guys think of my stories and would love to hear suggestions, requests, amendments or ideas for other stories. I had been with my Master for a few months. He knew that my fetish was shiny nylon ? jackets, shorts, trackies etc ? and he would use them to control me. He would tell me what nylon garment I could wear and when. Nylon privileges would be withdrawn if I displeased Him, or He would make me get some nylon messy or in extreme cases make me destroy an item, or make me watch Him destroy one of my nylon items. For some reason, I had recently started being moody around my Master, disobeying Him and generally not pleasing Him. He had punished me, but it had no affect. All nylon privileges had been withdrawn and I was kept naked in the house. One morning I had woken up and Master was in a very good mood. ?Good morning. We are going out today for some fun. I have put the outfit you will wear on the bed. Go and shower and put your outfit on. Hurry up so we can enjoy the day? ?Yes Sir? I went upstairs, showered and went into the bedroom. Master had laid out for me my favourite Barcode Berlin Shinie Short Boxer nylon shorts as underwear, my nice nudie jeans, a t-shirt, socks, converse and my favourite Duvetica dionisio shiny black nylon down jacket. I put the outfit on and felt good. After being denied nylon, the shorts against my cock felt good and got me horny. We left the house and walked. I had no idea where we were going but was pleased that Master seemed happy and we were enjoying the day together. We arrived at an old warehouse building. Master entered and I followed him. As I closed the door I heard electric bolts slide closed securing the door. I started to feel nervous, but trusted Master to look after me. We entered a room and behind a desk was a cute guy wearing a sage green Alpha MA1 bomber jacket (one of my favourites). He had a shaved head. He looked at my master and smiled. ?May I help you sir?? ?Yes, we have a booking. The name is Wilson.? ?Ah yes sir, I have the details here. Full processing and training.? ?That is correct.? ?Is the boy being signed in or entering voluntarily?? ?I am signing him in? ?Very good sir. As soon as the papers are signed, the boy becomes our responsibility. If you could sign the contract where indicated.? Master stepped forward and signed a paper. ?Thank you sir. The boy is now our responsibility. You can stay and watch his processing if you wish, or you can leave. His training will last for one month.? I started to worry. ?Sir, what is happening?? I asked Master with panic in my voice. The cute guy stepped from behind his desk. He was clearly fit and now I saw that he had his green bomber jacket on and cargo pants in the same material. He looked amazing! He waked over to me and slapped me across the face hard. ?Objects do not speak unless spoken to!? ?It?s ok. He should know the reason for what is about to happen.? Master turned to me. ?Your recent behaviour has been unacceptable, and despite punishments and being made to trash your nylon gear it has not improved. I have therefore had you admitted to this slave processing and training centre. I have arranged for you to be absent from work for a month whilst you are here. It will make you a better slave, and then you can return to me.? ?Sir, please don?t do this, I will behave and improve. Please give me a chance.? The bomber jacket guy turned to me. ?Too late pig, you?re ours for the next month. Your Master has signed the papers and you now belong to us until the conclusion of your programme. Now, let?s get started. Remove your jacket.? ?Sir, please don?t let them do this to me. Please, let?s go home. I?ll be good!? ?I told you to remove your jacket.? The bomber jacket guy repeated. He walked over to me and grabbed the zip of the jacket to open it. I struggled away from him and escaped his grip. He calmly walked to his desk, picked up the phone and simply said ?admittance assistance required?. With a few moments, three guys appeared with a gurney and a bag. They were dressed the same as the reception guy ? green bomber jackets and matching pants. The original guy walked back to me and said ?final chance, remove your jacket and hand it to your Master. It doesn?t belong to you. Everything you are wearing belongs to your Master. Remove the jacket and had him back his property now!? ?No!? With that, the other guys pounced on me and pinned me to the floor. I was soon muzzled, and my hands and feet were cuffed and connected so that I was hogtied and I was lifted on to the gurney and strapped down so I wouldn?t fall off. The bomber guy turned to my Master. ?Sorry you had to see that sir, the pig clearly has a lot to learn. May I suggest that we upgrade his processing to Level four?? ?Yes, fine, please get on with it? ?Thank you sir. You heard the owner, process the pig as a level four object? The guys seemed to smile. They obviously knew what level four processing meant for me. ?As a result of his level four processing sir, the pig will not be given any further options and will be strapped down while he is stripped. Is there any of your belongings that you particularly want saved?? ?No. He is wearing his favourite jacket, but nothing needs to be saved.? ?Thank you sir. The pig is too dangerous to be free and strip voluntarily. We will have to cut your clothes off the pig.? Hearing this upset me. I was wearing my favourite jacket. And I love the shorts I was wearing as underwear. They wheeled me down a corridor into a room. Inside was a skinhead on a gurney just like me. He was struggling against the bonds holding him to the gurney. There were two chairs in the room with straps in many locations. The arms stuck out at the side so that we could be strapped to them with easy access to our arms. There seemed to be pieces of material stuck to the chairs. A guy walked up to the chair near the skin and painted a substance onto it. The skinhead was then unbuckled from the gurney, undone from his hogtie and taken to the chair. He was sat on it and strapped to it. I heard one of the guys explaining to the skin?s master what was happening. ?It is a strong glue that is on the chair. Once it has dried in about 10 minutes, we can undo the straps and the pig is unable to move. We can then cut him out of the clothes he is wearing.? It hit me that the same was about to happen to me! A guy walked to the chair near me and painted the same thick substance onto the chair. The straps holding me to the gurney were undone and I was flipped onto my back. ?Zip the hood all the way up? As the hood was zipped to the top I could no longer see what was happening. I was flipped back onto my stomach and taken out of my hogtie. The cuffs were removed and I was stretched flat on my back and re-strapped to the gurney. ?Excuse me sir, when did the pig last ejaculate?? ?About a week ago. Unless he has disobeyed me and cum without permission.? ?Thank you sir. Milk the pig dry.? I could feel my jeans unbuttoned and the shorts were pulled down to expose my cock. A hand started playing with my cock. ?Come on little piggy, get nice and hard. We have a long way to go? ?The pig will be milked until he is dry sir.? I reluctantly got hard because of the hand playing with my cock. But knowing my jacket was going to be destroyed meant that I wasn?t aroused. It took some time before I came close to ejaculating but eventually the guard?s hands brought me to orgasm and I shot a week?s worth of slave juice over the front of my favourite jacket. ?Good pig. Let?s see how much more you have in those worthless slave balls? The jerking didn?t stop. I was milked until nothing came out. I shot about four loads over my jacket. When I had finally been milked dry my cock was sore. ?See what a dirty pig you are? Your Master gives you a nice expensive Duvetica down jacket and you spew your worthless juice all over it. ? My cock was put back into the short and my jeans were re-buttoned. I could feel the straps holding me to the gurney being undone and lift me off it. I was sat on the chair, pushed to the back. My head and arms were pushed firmly against the structure and then I could feel straps being applied over me to keep me in place. The substance was slippery, but I couldn?t move. After about 10 minute I felt the straps being undone. ?Unzip the hood so the pig can watch? The hood was unzipped and I could see again. My Master stood in front of me with two other guys. I could see that the front of the jacket was wet, covered with my cum that was now running down the front and onto my jeans. I had never got this jacket messy. I loved it so much, that I always kept it nice and clean and now it was covered with cum. One of them walked over to me with a hooked knife in his hand and a Stanley knife. ?If you had remained as a level three pig, we would not have been able to cut you out of your Master?s clothes. If you had done as you had been asked, your favourite jacket would have survived.? He walked to the side and drew the Stanley knife down the left sleeve of the jacket. The material was so soft and thin that the knife cut through it like a hot knife through butter. As he did it the other guy held a vacuum cleaner tube against the sleeve and sucked out the down to stop it making a mess. They moved to the other sleeve and did the same. They removed the belt from my jeans and removed my converse and socks and threw them all in a bag. ?All the items will be destroyed after the processing is complete? They then secured my wrists, ankles and neck to the chair. ?Now we can continue without the pig thinking he can escape? The knife guy took the hooked knife and put it inside the waist of my jeans pulling away to rip the jeans open. He then pulled it down the left leg, shredding the material, before doing the same to the right leg. He put it inside the waist band of my favourite shorts and just pulled, ripping the waist of the shorts. He then took the Stanley knife and carefully slit the shorts down the front on both sides. He moved back to my jacket. He took a pair of scissors and cut through the zip near the shoulder before taking the hooked knife and pulling it through the shoulder and down the left sleeve and then doing he same to the right sleeve. My favourite jacket! Totally ruined! He quickly cut through the shoulders of my t-shirt and then just pulled the knife down the front and ripped the rest of the way. I was strapped to the chair, but if I stood up my clothes would be left behind! ?Okay, stage 2? said the knife guy. Two guys walked over, undid my wrists and neck and bent be over so that my head was to my knees. They then cuffed my hands behind my back. They stood my up and fastened cuffs with a short chain to my ankles before releasing me from the chair?s ankle cuffs. They pulled me forward and walked me to my Master before turning me around. One of the guys returned to the chair and picked up the remains of my t-shirt and shorts and threw them in the bag. He then started pulling at my jeans stuck to the chair. After a lot of effort the material started giving way and coming off the chair in pieces. He eventually got most of my jeans off the chair and threw the scraps into the bag. With a smile on his face he then did the same to my jacket. Because the material was so thin, as he pulled it just ripped and so he shredded the jacket as he pulled, putting piece after piece of black shiny nylon into the bag. Another guy was vacuuming the down feathers up as it happened. The guy then turned round and carried the bag over to me. He grabbed my cock and simply said ?piss, now?. The final humiliation was unleashing a bladder full of piss all over what had been my favourite nylon jacket and other clothes. The guards did the same. My Master was then offered the chance which he took ? and seemed to be happy about it! I wish I had behaved so that I hadn?t had to watch my favourite jacket and shorts be totally trashed. ?Take the pig to stage 3 processing? With that, I was marched along the room towards a door. As I passed the skinhead, I could see that they had done the same to him. They were just ripping the remains of his bomber jacket off the chair and putting the shreds into a bag ? presumably for him to piss in like I had done. I felt sorry for him because sage green Alpha MA1 bomber jackets are my other favourite nylon jackets to wear. Master had brought me one as a treat a few months ago, but had locked it away when I started to misbehave. He had threatened to burn it as a punishment. I was marched through the door into a room with another chair. It looked liked a dentists chair but was upright. ?Level four processing, grade 1? The statement was matter of fact from one of the guys that was doing this to me. I was strapped into the chair and the next thing I heard is a buzzing behind me. Some of the muzzle straps were undone and then a hand grabbed my head before clippers were brought to my forehead and pulled through my hair. I had always taken care of my hair, styling it before I left the house. Now I was being shaved! The guy behind me worked the clippers all over my head until I was shaved. ?You?re lucky you are only Level four. Any higher, and you would have been shaved completely bald. You just get a buzz cut. Your cock and balls don?t get the same treatment.? The chair started to move until I was stretched out flat. The clippers were brought to my pubes and shaved. The guy then applied shaving cream and shaved me completely smooth. I?d not been smooth since I hit puberty. Short and tidy yes. But not smooth. The chair then tilted back until I was almost upside down. I then felt something on my arse. The same was happening. Shaving cream applied and my arse was shaved smooth. The chair was returned upright, and my chest and abdomen were also shaved completely smooth. One of the guys started to play with my cock and wank me. ?Come on pig, we need you nice and hard? I was worried what was going to happen next. Some liquid was applied to the end of my cock. ?This will help the pain? A needle was held before me. ?You can scream if you want. No-one cares? The needle was brought to my cock and pushed through, piercing my cock. The guy then fitted me with a slave ring through the end of my cock. A collar was held up in front of me before it was placed around my neck. ?This will never come off pig? With that the collar was locked on to me. I was removed from the chair and taken to a mirror. ?Look at yourself pig. You are nothing. You are an object.? One of the guys walked to my Master. ?Sir, that completes the intake processing. We just need to put the pig in his uniform. We usually put trainees in MA1 bomber jackets and nylon shorts, but given that is the pig?s fetish, perhaps a different uniform would be better. We would appreciate your guidance sir.? My Master looked at me. ?I suggest putting him in an MA1 and nylon shorts. He particularly likes Alpha bomber jackets. Use it to control him. When you have finished with him, I want you to discharge him from the facility in his uniform.? ?Very well sir?. I was taken to another room. ?OK pig, your Master seems wise, and we are going to listen to him. ? They handed me a brand new Alpha MA1 with the tags on and a pair of short shiny nylon shorts. ?Put them on pig? I picked up the jacket and put it on followed by the shorts. When I was dressed in my uniform, one of the guards walked over to me and ripped the tags off the jacket and spat on my face and on my jacket. ?Don?t think you will be nice and clean for long pig. You are nothing. You are worthless. You don?t deserve this uniform and we will show you what happens to worthless pigs in nice clean uniforms.? ?Take this pig to his cell. His training starts immediately.? What happens next?...