Date: Mon, 5 May 2008 11:48:16 -0700 (PDT)
From: Harry Rod <harryrod575@yahoo.com>
Subject: Tom - Chapter 17

I wanted to die then.  Humiliation overwhelmed me.  I felt like my life was
over and I was completely fucked.  My head was swimming from the beer, and
nothing other than piss and beer in my stomach; I felt like I was going to
throw up again.  I turned my back to them and tried to wash my humiliation
away.

They started laughing and pointing more, because they saw the disk of the
butt plug in my ass.  "Butt pirate" and "fudge packer" were heard.  I
really just wanted to die.  All these macho guys seeing me like this.  Yet
my cock would have liked to have expanded, but couldn't because of the
cage.

I buried my head in the stream of the shower to block out the jeers.
Someone must have said something because, when I finally had the guts to
turn off the water, there was no one there but Nick.

He handed me a towel to dry off with.  He was smiling as he looked at the
cage over my cock, and how I kept my back away from him.  I was more
ashamed of the plug than the cage.

When I was done drying, he handed me my shorts and t-shirt.  They must have
been quickly dried while I was in the shower, because they weren't wet any
more.  They still smelled of sweat, but they weren't wet.

I slid on my shoes and he said, "Sorry, I am just curious.  Do you really
let him tell you what you can and can't do?"

I said, "Yes, S...," and stopped on the sir, and said again, "Yes."

"And you do whatever he says, no matter what?"  He seemed genuinely
perplexed.

"Yes." I said, with less volume than I had before.

He shook his head.  "Every year, he has a new `boy' that he brings over,
and it is always the same."  He had brought others here?  I wanted to ask
how I rated compared to the others, but knew I couldn't.  "They do as
instructed and suffer the humiliation of the brothers, and they are
relentless in their tormenting."

He paused again, and then went on, "I just can't fathom how a grown man, a
strong masculine man, like you, could ever let himself be treated like
that.  And as I understand it, gets off on it?"  He shook his head and held
up his hand.

"I know you can't talk about it, or won't, but I just wish I could
understand."  He had led me down the stairs to the front of the house.

"You know, I don't even know your name?" He waited for me to supply it.

"It is just `boy'," I said.  He shook his head again, and opened the door.
I didn't know where I was supposed to go.  I didn't have any instructions.
But when the door opened, Sir was walking up the steps, holding my leash in
his hand.

I looked at Nick and gave him a weak smile.  And he surprised me by saying,
"See you tomorrow night," and, after a pause, he added, "boy!"

Sir gave him a look, and I looked at Nick, who looked like he was hurt.
"Shit, I am sorry, Sir."  He called him, Sir?  Didn't anyone know or use
his real name?

"Come, boy," Sir said, after clipping the leash back to my collar.  I
walked behind him as he led me back down the street to his home.

On the way, he said, "You got your collar wet, boy.  I should leave it on
you while it dries, so you will learn a lesson about wet leather, but I
think I will save that lesson for another time."

Back on the porch of the house, he unlocked and removed the collar.  It had
really been pressing into my neck.  I wanted to reach up and rub it, but
knew better than to do that.

"Strip, boy," he said, without any inflection in his voice.

I knew we were standing on the porch in the late afternoon and anyone could
see me.  But, again, I had no choice.  I pulled off the shirt, which he
took from me.  Then I pushed down my shorts, feeling the air hit my ass,
and blushed as I realized that I was flashing the end of the plug as I bent
to remove my shorts.

I handed them to him and he held his hand out for the shoes.  I removed
them and handed them to him.  He stood looking at me then.  He smiled as he
looked me over.  Was I pleasing him?

"I hear you did a good job at the fraternity today, boy.  You reflected
well on me, boy."  He patted me on the head. "You did good, boy."  I felt
emotion wash over me.  I had pleased him!  It felt so good to receive that
praise.

"However, I heard that you were vomiting while you worked." I wanted to say
something and my mouth twitched a bit, but he said it and continued
on. "No, don't say anything, boy.  You know better."  He looked at me
sternly.

"I also heard that you cleaned that up as well, boy."  He had that pleased
sound back in his voice.

"Did you enjoy the humiliation, boy?  I know those young men," young men
for them, but boy for me.  It wasn't lost on me, the difference, "can be
quite ruthless in their tormenting.  But did it turn you on, boy?"

Emotions hit me again and I wanted to scream no! at the top of my lungs,
but the truth was I didn't know.  My mind was hurt considerably by the
comments and the taunts, but my dick had tried to expand several times in
the cage.

"Yes, Sir," I tried to say evenly, even as a tear rolled down my face.  I
felt low and degraded by admitting that my dick liked that kind of thing.

He smiled at me then.  "I knew you would say yes, boy!"

He looked at me again and said, "Remove your plug, boy."

I was bending to remove it when it hit me again where I was standing.  I
went red as I tried to get it out quickly.  It came out quickly once I had
it past the narrow section.

I held it up for him, feeling the heat radiate from my face.  "Clean it up,
boy," he said, and stood there with his hands crossed in front of his waist
while holding my clothes.

More moisture flowed down my face as I brought it to my lips.  It was
coated with slime and smelled of sweat and ass.  I started to close my eyes
as I began to lick it, but he said, "Look me in the eyes, boy, while you
lick it!"

I raised my eyes and looked him in the eyes, something I had rarely done.
I saw him looking from one eye to the other as I licked the length of it.
I thought I was going to heave again, but knew I had nothing in my stomach.

He watched my reactions as I finished cleaning the thing.  "Now take it all
the way down your throat, boy.  Just like you do me, boy."

I put it to my lips and opened wide and began to feed it into my mouth.
But when it hit the back of my throat I gagged and closed my eyes to fight
it.

"Open your eyes, boy!" he commanded.

I opened them and could barely recognize him through the blur of water
there.  I tried again, and once again started to gag.  Then before I knew
it was happening, he reached up and pushed it in and down my throat.  He
held it there while I gagged and fought.

He released my face and pulled it out.  I was gagging and trying to get my
breath.  I thought I was going to start heaving again.  Snot ran out of my
nose and saliva dripped from my mouth and from the end of the plug.

"The real thing is much easier, boy.  But I had to show you that you could
do it whether you wanted to or not.  Understand, boy?" he asked.

I lowered my eyes and said, "Yes, Sir," with a raspy voice, as I tried to
regain my breathing.

"Did I tell you to lower your eyes, boy?" he asked, and slapped me on the
side of my face.

My face went to the side, but I snapped it back and looked him in the eyes,
humiliation once again overcoming me.  All the praise he had given was gone
now.  I was just a boy again and, seemingly, a bad one at that.  "No, Sir,"
I said, struggling with a whirlwind of emotions.

"Put the plug back in your ass, boy."  I took the plug that was dangling
from my hand, bent over, and began to work it back into my hole, wondering
all the time whom was behind me, seeing this.  "You will remove it after
dinner to relieve yourself, but you will put it back in again after that,
boy.  You need to get used to being full.  I want you to crave being filled
and hate being empty, boy."

"Yes, Sir," I said, keeping my eyes level with his.  I saw him look to my
left, and then I heard, "Your mail, sir."  Oh shit!  The mailman saw the
whole thing!

"Thank you, Lloyd," Sir said, as he took the mail from the man.

"Training another boy, sir?" Lloyd asked.

"Yes, just had him a couple of days, so breaking him in."

"I see he has a tattoo already.  You do train them well, sir."

"Thank you, Lloyd."  Sir said.  He opened the door and walked into the
house.  I hadn't had any instructions so I just stood there.

"You are very lucky, boy," Lloyd whispered. "He takes good care of his
boys!"  He patted me on the ass and I heard him walk away.  That only added
to my humiliation.

I stood there not knowing what to do.  Paul came out, but said nothing to
me as he stepped around me.  My embarrassment grew the longer I stood
there, wondering who was walking by.

Then I heard, "Mommy, why is that man standing there naked on the porch?"
Oh fuck!  I was in shit now!  His mom was probably going to call the
police.  I began shaking.  I was now going to be arrested for corrupting a
young child!  Tears streamed now, and I tried to stop them, but my emotions
were worn out.

Sir came back to the door then and looked at me.  I was still looking
straight ahead, as last directed.  He looked at me sternly and then smiled,
just a fraction.  "I had that recording made, and it never fails to hit
boys right in the gut!"

I couldn't help it; I turned and saw that there was no boy or mother on the
sidewalk or running down the sidewalk.  He chuckled just a bit, and then
spoke loudly.  "Who said you could turn your head, boy?"

"No one, Sir," I said, dreading what would be coming next.

He moved over and sat on a chair on the porch.  "Come here, boy, and lay
across my knees, boy."

I moved over and knelt down and then across his legs.  My cheeks burned red
as my humiliation rose.

He put his hand on my ass and rubbed it around.  "Count for me, boy."

I knew now that it was better not to tense up, but having this done out
here was pushing my mental stability.  He raised his hand and came down
with a smack that was hard enough to catch me off guard.

"One, Sir, thank you, Sir.  May I have another sir?" I said.

"No, I think that is enough for the moment, boy.  I think you have about
reached the end of your rope for now, boy.  Get up and assume the standing
position, boy."

I moved off of his lap and wiped my face as I stood up, spread my feet and
put my hands behind my head, looking at the floor.

He got up then and came over to the open door.  He looked left and right,
up and down the street.  Was he doing that to fuck with my mind?  "Follow
me, boy," he said, and led me into the house.  He had me stop while he
closed the door.  I didn't know where my clothes had gone.

He led me through the house to the kitchen.  Mrs. H was there, and the
smells in the kitchen were overwhelming.  My mouth began to salivate and my
stomach rumbled.

Mrs. H brought a bowl of the kibble over and sat it on my table with a
large bottle of water with the sippy cup top.  I started chewing on the
chunks, wondering if it truly was dog food.  Mrs. H came over again and
spread just a bit of gravy over the top of the kibble.  I looked up at her,
but she looked just as stern as she always did.

Did she feel sorry for me?  I couldn't tell.  But I savored every bit of
the gravy as I munched my way through the bowl.  I needed a lot of water to
get it down, but I was practically shoveling it in my mouth and chewing as
fast as I could.  I was starving and I didn't care what I ate as long as I
ate it!

I was just finishing the last chug of water to wash it all down, when my
stomach rumbled and started churning.  Oh, no!  Please no!  I grabbed my
stomach, stood and ran outside.

I went over to the hole in the ground, bent over, and upchucked all the
dinner I had just eaten.  My stomach heaved and heaved.  The nausea hit me
in waves and, when I was empty, it just kept cramping, and I kept heaving,
trying to stop, but my gut wouldn't let me.

I kept bent over the hole until I could get it under control.  Then I wiped
my mouth and flung the chunks into the hole.

Right then I felt something else.  I reached back, pulled out the plug, and
then squatted over the hole as a torrent flooded out of me.

When I was finished, I wiped myself.  Then I used some more of the toilet
paper to wipe my face.  I tossed dirt in as I had been instructed.  Then I
sat down on the lawn and completely lost it.  I put my head in my hands and
began sobbing.

It wracked my body and it was uncontrollable.  It was like everything from
the day came to a head; the punishment, the humiliations, the tormenting,
the constant hammering to tear me down.

I sat there for a while until I was drenched with cold water.  I jumped up,
blubbering through the water and the tears.  Mrs. H was yelling at me.
"Get your ass up and get cleaned up!"  She pointed the hose at me again,
and the cold water was shocking.  "Sitting there feeling sorry for yourself
is not going to get you through this!"

"You ate your dinner too fast and too much of it!"  She hit me again with
the hose.  "You have to learn to pace yourself, especially at the
beginning.  It takes a lot out of you!"

She sprayed me again, "Look, he has to make sure that you get it.  That
there isn't any of the contrariness left in you.  That you will obey
without hesitation anything and everything!"

She doused me again.  Would she just stop that!  "You are getting mad at
me, aren't you, boy?"  She never took her eyes off of my face.

"But it is not me you are really mad at is it?  And it is not him either,
is it?  It's you!"

She ran the water over my head again, and this time I didn't try to fend it
off.

"What do you think they do in the marines and the army?  Tear you down and
rebuild you from the ground up!  That's what he is doing to you!"

"So get it together, BOY! And quit feeling sorry for yourself.  You aren't
the first one to go through this, and I doubt that you will be the last!
So shape up.  Be happy that he cares for you so much that he is spending
the time training and working on you."

She told me to stand up then.  Then she sprayed me off properly.  When she
was finished, I stood there shivering while she went up to the house to get
a towel.  Again, it was no bigger than a wash cloth.

"I remember when my Pauly went through this.  He had a difficult time about
this time, but look at him now!"  Pauly?  Was that Paul?  Was Paul her son?
What the fuck?

"You get downstairs now and get that cleaned up and back in place!"  She
meant the plug.  I blushed again to the roots of my being.  A woman, a
mother, was telling me to put a butt plug in!

I shook my head as I made my way into the house and downstairs.  While I
was walking down the steps, it dawned on me that I couldn't remember Mrs. H
ever talking to me before, much less giving me a lecture like that.

I washed the plug with the special soap, rinsed it, and dried it.  Then I
licked it to get it wet and bent over to push it back in my ass.  It hurt
going in, and I had to stop and breathe deeply to get the pain to subside
before I could push it all the way in.

I stood up and waited for my stomach to lurch again.  It didn't.  I drank a
bit of water.  I looked in the cabinet and found a pink tablet like my mom
used to give me.  I thought it would help my stomach, so I opened the
cellophane and chewed the tablet.

The wintergreen taste was powerful in my mouth after all the other.

I took another small drink of water.

I moved out into the room and stood in my position.

While I stood there, all the things of today whirled through my mind, and
especially what Mrs. H had said.  And then there was the whole question
about Paul.  Was it the same Paul, and had he too been trained as a boy?
And he lived here?  Too many questions and not enough answers.

I heard the footsteps on the stairs, and stretched my elbows back a bit
more.

"So your stomach is a bit upset, boy?"  He walked over and ran his hand
over my stomach.  I was almost expecting him to punch me in the stomach,
but he gently patted it.  Then he let his hand rub down my groin, and
finally cup my nuts.  I tensed, expecting the tightening and the increasing
pressure on them.

He rolled them back and forth between his fingers and, for some reason, I
was sure he was watching my face.

"So Mrs. H gave you a talking to, boy?" His voice was calm as he spoke.

"Yes, Sir," I said.

"And you came down here as directed, got yourself cleaned up and reinserted
your plug, boy?"

"Yes, Sir," and I wondered if he had been watching me.

"And who gave you permission to look through the cabinet and find the
stomach pills, boy?  And who told you that you could eat one, boy?" he
asked very sternly.

"No one, Sir," I said meekly.

"Speak up, boy!" he said, louder.

"No one, Sir!" I said louder, like a marine would.

"That's what I thought, boy.  It was a good idea, boy, but you must ask
permission to do something other than what you are instructed.  Do you
understand, boy?"

"Yes, Sir," I said, wondering how I was supposed to ask permission, when I
wasn't allowed to speak unless spoken too?

"So now you are wondering how to ask permission, aren't you boy?"  Fucking
mind reader!

"Yes, Sir," I said.

"You are to hold one finger out from your clasped hands to let me know that
you want to ask me something.  If, and when, I decide you can speak, I will
let you know.  Do you understand, boy?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir," I said, wanting to ask him a dozen questions.  I held my finger
out from my clasped hands and wondered if he could see it.

"No questions now, boy.  We have to get ready for visitors." He paused, and
then added, "And I know most of the questions you want to ask, and now is
not the time for those answers."  He patted my stomach again and added,
"When the time is right, you will get some answer, but not now."

He went over to the corner and told me to come over.  "Remove the plug from
your hole, boy."  I reached back and did as he said.  I waited for him to
tell me to lick it and wondered if my stomach could take that.

"Step over there and wash it, boy."  I moved over to the sink and cleaned
it as he had instructed.

"We will let your hole rest for a bit until your stomach is doing better,
boy."  He patted my ass as I moved over when he instructed me to.

"Now, climb into this cage.  And no matter what happens in here tonight are
you not to make a sound.  Do you understand, boy?"

"Yes, Sir," I said, as I lowered myself to the ground and crawled into the
cage.  It had the same kind of leather bottom as the drawer, and I could
just barely sit up because of the height of the cage.  I sat crossed legged
while Sir locked the door on the cage.

He handed me a collar and told me to put it on.  It didn't have a padlock
on it, so I wondered what it meant that it didn't.

He left the room then and everything was quiet.  Again my mind
kaleidoscoped with the images and emotions of the day.  More and more
questions piled up, and there were no answers.  And my cock was trying to
betray me by responding to some of the images and emotions.

I don't know how long I was down there when I heard the thump, thump, thump
of boot steps on the stairs.  I saw the boots before I saw the owner of
them.  There were several sets of them.

I watched as three military men marched a man in handcuffs into the center
of the room.  He was dressed in military garb as well, but he looked like
he had been in a fight.  His arms were handcuffed behind him, and he wore
leg shackles.

He stood proud and tall when they released him.

"Private Williams, you were found fighting tonight.  You were beating up a
man.  I am told you were beating him up because he is a gay man.  Is this
true, private?"

The man in question looked up and said, "No, Sir!"

"Then why did you beat him, private?"

"He touched me, Sir."

"What do you mean he touched you, private?"

"He tried to touch my Johnson, Sir," the man said evenly.

"And are you a married man, private?"

"Yes, Sir!  With two wonderful children!"

"So you would never touch another man's `Johnson', private?"

"No, Sir!  I am no homo, Sir!"

"Well, private, I have heard otherwise."  The private stiffened.

"And, private, you will obey any order an officer gives you?"

"Yes, Sir!" he shouted.

"Good, private, then we will proceed as to how true these allegations are."
He let that sink in before he said, "Cut his clothes off!"

I wondered what was going on!  And I was here to witness it?  What were
they going to do to him?  And did any of it involve me?  Too much to
process!


Thanks for all the "boys" that write with questions and the "Sirs" that
write with instructions, they are all appreciated.  Harryrod575@yahoo.com
Have fun

harry