Date: Fri, 22 Dec 2023 14:20:28 -0500
From: Robert Halstead <subkodak25@gmail.com>
Subject: Training Toby 38

THIRTY-EIGHT

Eric was home alone, naked and chained to the wall with heavy chains. His
body was marked with welts and bruises. August was out. Eric was
terrified. August, the slave realized, was more and more disturbed and out
of touch with reality. He had no regard for his slave's safety. Eric began
praying, reciting every prayer he had learned in school, begging to be set
free, to somehow find a way to escape from August, from this house, from
this nightmare.

He heard the door open and slam shut upstairs and then heavy boots
descending to the basement. His anxiety was off the roof. Without a word,
August walked up to him and kicked him in the balls and the slave forced
itself to get out the words "they're yours, Master," as it had been trained
to do. The cry of pain was ignored. August spit in Eric's face. "Soon they
won't be mine, faggot. I want fresh meat. I'm giving you away."

Could this be an answer to his prayers? The slave forced itself to look
sullen, humiliated, because that is what pleases August the most, who takes
his keys and unlocks the cuffs and collar and then demands the slave to
stand up with its hands behind its head. He moves it out to the center of
the room, under the light and begins to look it over, roughly handling it
during his inspection. "You'll do, but fuck, you STINK!" Eric gets his
hopes up. Might he be allowed to shower? It's been days.

August goes storming upstairs again and before long comes back carrying a
bar of soap and a worn towel. He tosses the soap to Eric. "Wash yourself,
bitch!" he says and turns the water on and it comes out of a nearby
hose. Eric dreads what's going to happen. August picks up the hose. There's
a spray nozzle on the end and he begins to spray the slave with the tepid
water that quickly begins to get colder. "Wash those pits! Wash out your
stink. August stops spraying to give the slave a chance to work up a lather
in the most strategic places. It's pretty much routine by now because this
is the only way the slave is trained to wash when not allowed to shower
upstairs. Eric quickly lathers each pit, its groin (unlocked this morning)
and its butt and tries to get some soap on its bald head. August had shaved
it bare again just yesterday so it was a bit tender where August used his
razor. "Enough. Rinse!" August shouted and started spraying the slave up
and down and the slave raced to get off as much soap as possible. Finally
August stopped the water. He threw the old towel to Eric so the slave could
dry itself. "Quickly, faggot! Gonna take you to market!"

Eric had no idea what this meant, but was hoping it might be a chance to
get away. But no. August had some old leather in his hands. He collared
Eric a bit on the tight side but Eric knew not to complain. Then some
scratchy manacles went around the slave's wrists and they were clipped
together behind Eric's back. The Eric took a chain leash and clipped it to
the collar. "Come," he ordered, and started up the stairs with Eric
stumbling behind him. He noticed it was night time. He'd lost all sense of
time being chained up in the basement for a good long time and there were
no windows. When they got up to the kitchen, August picked up a trash bag
filled with stuff (Eric had no idea what). He picked up two pills and
forced them into Eric's mouth and then the nozzle of a water bottle and
made Eric drink the whole thing and wash down whatever drugs August made
the slave take. Nothing new about this. Eric is glad: it makes it so much
easier for him to surrender to whatever's going to happen.

August opens the front door and steps outside. Eric is fearful, being
completely naked and bound, but August practically drags him down to the
van. He opens the back of the van. There are dirty rags and some cans there
and a box of sugared cereal that he's thought to throw in there so he
wouldn't have to bother feeding the slave. "Get in!" he orders Eric and the
boy has to find its own way to get up into the van because August just
stands there staring at it, looking impatient. The slave has barely gotten
settled inside when August slams and locks the back of the van again. Eric
has lost all sense of dignity. He has no idea when he last ate, but he is
famished and tears the box of cereal open and scoops mouthfuls of it into
his mouth while August drives the van to wherever he is going.

The ride is long and Eric is spacing because of the drugs the Master has
made it consume. It is amazingly calm and even a bit hopeful that it's
misery may be coming to an end. Maybe prayers do get answered, even from
faggot slaves.

The van enters some kind of unpaved lot and then it feels as if it's
backing up. The engine is kept idling, but he hears the van door open as
the same time as some building in the lot has it's back door opening. He
hears a conversation between August and the man. He hears August say
"everything you need is in there. Info, legal stuff, bankbook." Bankbook?
Eric still has a bankbook? Interesting. Finally the back of the van is
opened and Eric blinks because they are under a bright light from the
parking lot. He hears the pounding of music coming from inside the
building. The man pulls on the leash and Eric gets to the open doors of the
van. The man reaches out and helps Eric get out and down on the ground. He
is immediately aware the he's standing on dirty ground in his bare
feet. "Stand up straight and let me get a look at you," the man says. Eric
obeys. As he does, he hears the door of the van open and someone racing the
engine. The man pulls Eric away from the van, shuts its doors and pounds on
the back. The van speeds away.

"So here's the deal, kid. Your Master doesn't want you any more. This is a
men-only bdsm club. He made a sign that says, "slave available for anyone
who wants it" to hang over your neck and you'll be standing with your leash
attached to the ceiling. Hopefully someone will want to claim you for
whatever, maybe just a night, maybe for more. Your former Master has also
provided your legal papers and some other stuff including money. Now before
we go in there, I have three questions to ask you. First: What's your
name—your legal name?"

"Eric, Sir."

"Second question: are you really a bdsm slave?"

"Yes, Sir."  "Third and most important question: are you willing to go
along with what happens next or do you want your freedom? I've got some
cash here and can find something to dress you in and then you're on your
way."  The thought of being released into the real world frightens the
slave.

"Yes, Sir, this slave will submit."

"Then come with me, kid." (Kid? Eric is 25 years old!)

The man leads Eric into the club and shuts the back doors. This place is
freaking awesome. Strobes and lights are revolving everywhere and
everything seems clean, and elegant, and shining black. The tiled floor is
clean. A lot of men are roaming around in all states of dress from
three-piece suits to nothing but a leather jockstrap and a couple
youngish-looking guys are naked except for some kind of footwear. Eric
doesn't even have that.

The man tells Eric he can call him Master Jude. He brings the slave to an
alcove lit by a red light overhead and he orders Eric to stand under the
light. Then he takes the slave's leash and bolts it to the ceiling. It's
not completely tight. Eric has a little bit of room to move a step or so in
either direction. Master Jude takes the sign August left and hangs it over
the slave's neck by a thin chain. He lightly smacks Eric's face and says,
"Be a good boy. You're pretty marked up already so I don't want us to have
to discipline you any further. You know what you are. Hopefully, you'll
have a Master before we close early tomorrow morning." And with that he
walks away. A couple of men are standing there looking the boy over
already. One reaches out to twist a nipple and Eric's eyes open wide and he
lets out a little cry. "Fuck. He worked you over good before he turned you
over to us," the guy says, and lets go. He reaches down and grabs the
slave's balls and pulls on them until the slave bends its knees a bit and
moans in its drugged ecstasy. "Nice."

Suddenly the music stops and an announcement is made. "Doms and Masters,
tonight might be your lucky night. There's a youngish slave on display on
the red room. A sign around its neck says `Trained faggot available to
whoever wants to claim it. Papers available at the bar.' Gentlemen, this is
a serious offer. Check it out if you're in the market. If you take it out
of here, it's yours." The announcement ends and a lot of talk can be heard
and quite a number of men come by to view the slave, some to touch it or
try to torment it. Eric is buzzing and every touch feels electric. "Keep
your eyes, open, slave, so we can see them," it's ordered and of course
obeys. Three men seem to be checking it out seriously. One says to the
other, "Jude said there are actually some papers about it at the bar. I'm
going to check."

Eric has no idea what August left for them to see. This is what is there: a
wallet with his legal id and driver's license, a debit card and a
bankbook. Results of the most recent blood test. Two pages have more
particular information about its training and experience. The word Urinal
is underlined in red. One of the men checking these things out says to the
other, "this all looks very official, and it's interesting to notice that
this specimen has some money available to the man who claims it according
to the description. I want to go talk to Jude about what the story is
here."

About a half-hour later, one of the men has unbolted the slave's leash so
it can get on its knees. Three men are standing there with hard cocks
jutting out. One after the other is sticking his dick down the slave's
throat and quickly withdrawing while the second one takes his place, then
the third, and on and on. The slave is beginning to weep but does not
resist what they're doing to it.

One man, rather well-dressed and ruggedly attractive, late thirties or
maybe even forty walks up and says in a loud voice, "Gentlemen your fun is
over. I have just claimed this slave as my own, so kindly back off and
thank you for keeping its mouth active." The guys grumble and pull
back. The man steps over the the slave, holds it by the back of the head
and rubs its face into his crotch. "Get it hard," he commands, and Eric,
who happens to be turned on by the look of this man who might be his new
Master, eagerly uses his face and mouth, trying to get the Master hard. At
last the Master stops him and takes out his cock. "Suck until I tell you to
stop," he commands. "If you're not a good cocksucker the deal is off." Eric
wants to prove to this man that he's a good slave, and so virtually
worships the man's cock until he's orders to stop moving. The man takes his
cock out of Eric's mouth but holds it right at his lips. "Open your mouth,
slave. Drink what I give you." They stay motionless for a bit but then the
Master begins to piss in its mouth and watches how the slave manages to
swallow down a couple mouthfuls. Suddenly, the Master stops, puts his cock
away and orders the slave to stand. He picks up the end of the leash and
orders, "follow me." He brings the slave to a better-lit area, takes out
his phone, and with the flashlight begins to inspect just about every inch
of the slave's body. He notes bruises and a few purple marks from older
bruises. Welts probably from a cane appear on its back and across its ass,
and there are a couple places on the side of its ass where the skin has
been broken but apparently not treated.

"These marks weren't done by a Dom but rather by a sadist," he says the
other men watching him inspect the boy. He shines the light on the broken
places on the side of the slave's ass. "This should never happen. The
fucker never even treated these wounds." Then to the slave he says, "your
ID says your name is Eric. Is that real?"

"Yes, Master."

"Did your previous owner ever give you another name?"

"No, Sir, Master just called me `faggot' most of the time."

"I'll keep your name for now until I decide another name will be more
suitable for you. But I like Eric. You look like an Eric. Are you bald or
has your head been shaved?

"It's been shaved, Master. Last night."

"What color is it? Black, brown, red?"

"Dirty blond, Master."

He doubles up the leash so there is very little play in it and he pulls the
slave over to the bar.

"Thirsty?"

"Please, Master?"

The bartender hands the Master a cup of water. The Master spits in it, then
puts it to the slave's lips. "Drink it all down, Eric." Eric gratefully
obeys. "More?" "Please, Master?" The Master asks the bartender for a bottle
then unclips the slave's hands from behind its back. He hands the bottle to
the slave once it gets its arms functioning again. "This is yours. Drink
whenever you wish."

Eric is so overwhelmed by this consideration that a couple tears fall from
his eyes. "You've had it rough. I can see that. Things will be better now,
as long as you please me that way I require."

The Master asks the bartender for the case with the slave's official things
in it and hands it to the slave. "Carry this and don't lose it," he says.

"Yes, Master."

Jude comes over with a big smile on his face. "Wow, I'm so glad this worked
out. Hope it does work out for you, my friend."

"Well if it doesn't, the boy will be on display here some other night in
the future. Not wasting too much time if it needs a lot of training or
attitude formation. So we'll see. But I'm glad I stopped in tonight. It was
actually on a whim. Been away for a while and wanted to see what's been
happening."

"Good timing for you," says Jude.

"That remains to be seen. Come, Eric," he says, leading the slave by the
leash attached to its collar. He decides to leave by the back door so he
can pull the car around to the naked slave.

The Master leads the slave to a nice car, all black and opens the door. "In
you go," he says to the slave. It's only about 30 minutes before we'll be
home."

Eric gets into the car. When the Master gets in, Eric holds his hands
together and offers them to the Master. "What's this?"

"Master used to want my hands bound when he drove me anywhere, Sir."

"What a fucking asshole! What if we got into an accident? Reckless ignorant
bastard. If you ever see him around again, please point him out to me. A
fucker like that should never be trusted with a sub, no matter how
eager. How the fuck did you end up with him?"

"First we were just friends who liked kinky things, Master, but over the
past year he's been taking more and more from me and turning me into his
total slave, and got meaner and meaner. it seems like he'd gone crazy. I
was really afraid he'd kill me. I'd been praying to find a way to escape."

"Well then, lad, it sounds like your prayers got answered but maybe not
completely. You're still a slave, it seems, so you must need to be a
slave."

"Very much, Master, but now it's frightened."

"I can well understand why, Eric. My hope is that you won't be frightened
for much longer. You've been through some horribly traumatic shit. I assure
it that as long as you obey me like a good boy, things are going to be
quite different."

"May this slave ask a question, Sir?"

"Yes. Proceed."

"What should this slave call you, Master? May it know your name?"

"Of course. I'd prefer you use Sir or Master most of the time. Actually, my
name is Harry. Sometimes when we're relaxing, you may use my name. You may
call me Master Harry. But for now, use Master so you can get used to the
idea that a Master isn't always a brutal idiot."

It's a small world after all.

####

Thanks for all the emails and the stories you share with me.
Please keep writing me. Emails are my reward for writing.

subkodak25@gmail.com

Other Stories of Mine:
The Alex Chronicles
Sweet Subjugation
Tommy Loves His Sub

Also please help support Nifty for all the great fun it gives us.
donate@nifty.org