Date: Wed, 05 Oct 2022 13:53:26 +0000 From: ^sharper Subject: YOU KNOW HE'S SUB, DON'T YOU? - PART 59 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ THE USUAL WARNINGS APPLY TO THIS TALE. PLEASE CONTACT sharper@inorbit.com IF YOU LIKE TO PRAISE OR MOAN. SEARCH NIFTY FOR sharper@inorbit.com or link www.bit.ly/2x8dXEV TO READ MORE ^sharp TALES. REMEMBER TO MAKE YOUR DONATION TO WWW.NIFTY.ORG !! HERE :: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ YOU KNOW HE'S SUB, DON'T YOU? - PART 59 Second book : YOU BELONG TO JOBAL PART SIX -- The Locker Urib looked at me like he was looking at someone really stupid; he sighed, paused, and then ignored what I had said. "OK. So if you got any questions so far? Good questions. Because the moment is now - to ask any questions, before we get busy." "Er, I ... just, are we ... am I ... is it ...?" He laughed, "There's no need to be scared. Spit it out!" "Sorry, I mean, like ..." I sniffed. Suddenly I felt so fucking useless, looking at him and looking at me in the mirror. There I was and there he was. Him looking fantastic and me looking like I was still a weedy nerd. "I mean, you make me feel so fucking useless ... Like, where the hell is my story even going at this point?" "What are you talking about?" "Well ... like, how am I going to look like that?!" I pointed at him. "I'm never going to look like that! You. Like what are you saying? Like that I could look like a PT like you and, I mean, like I could be a PT?!" "Anyone can. You just gotta look the part." "That's what I'm asking. I mean, COULD I look the part?" "Trust me, you will by the time I'm finished. You've got enough potential." Urib looked so smug. I thought. Then I said, "What about Po? Has he got the potential?" "Yeah he most definitely has. But he's not looking for it. He's not you gym-built type is he?" "What is he then?" "More your sporty type. You know; football or something. Swimming. He's fit, don't get me wrong, and he's definitely muscular. Anyway it's about attitude as much as anything and he doesn't." "Cause he's ...?" "You already know the answer to that. Po is a Superior Man and he's not going to stand and just count reps for someone is he, like I have to." "He did for me!" "No he didn't. I mean, yeah, probably did, but he's never going to think like, 'What's best for this man?' is he? He's in it for his own satisfaction. Does it turn him on?" "What?" "Training you? Does it make him hard? Does it make him want to cum?" "Yeeeah!" I smiled. "I bet. See that's why he's in it for. Po only cares about Po. But I'll be your PT and I won't stop for a hard on. What we're aiming for isn't just for well-muscled like he is; you, what we're aiming for more your gym-bunny, gym-porn body. Cause where you're going ..." "What about where I'm going?" "You'll find out soon enough. You just need to be strong, because, for what you are going to do ... OK? OK. Enough. Let's get on. Here, let me show you something." He took his polo off, stripping it up with one hand - When he raised his arm I was engulfed in a cloud of male body odour even from where I stood - and he stood there holding his shirt like a rag and a self confident smile on his face. His torso was kind of breath-taking. Large tufts of hair poked out between his large round bicep and his large round pec and I wondered what it smelt like to put my nose into that gap. It was like his presence had suddenly expanded to fill the whole room so it was all I could see ... He raised his arms - displaying two pits full of amazing, sweaty brown hair - and stressed his torso; his biceps and his pecs filled out and then relaxed and his neck pulsed. Then he lowered his arms again and pointed to his abs. "So. Six pack," he said proudly slapping it as though the rest of his amazing body didn't count. "OK? That's what one looks like. If you haven't got a six pack, you don't exist." The 'scars of brotherhood' looked like art scratched all over the hard rippled skin. "And that," he placed his hands behind his back again, standing like a soldier would, "is what a developed body looks like." He flexed his chest again. "So WHAT are we aiming for? Ultimately that. What you must be is a muscular - as well as b well-presented, and c good as well as totally-obedient d bitch." "I can't see that happening," I said with a laugh. "What?" I think I was annoying him. I said, "Well, a, me getting a body like that, I mean," and I laughed again like he was the one joking. "OK. So say we just try keep trying to get it right. Trust me.That's all." "But I BEEN trying," I said. "Yeah but you aren't getting it right, so ... OK you need to cooperate. Maintaining this physique requires more or less constant training. That's what your life will become. So if I don't see some cooperation from you ... Look, Po said to punish you if you aren't cooperative so do I have to do that?" "What do you mean?" Urib paused yet again, took a deep breath and changed tack. "OK. I'll show you what I mean. Go to that locker." He pointed at one of the lockers on the wall opposite the mirror. I went over to the the locker and then said, "OK. Now what?" I had no idea. Urib sighed again. "You really are a smart arse. But now is not the time to be clever. Open it." "Open what?" "The LOCKER!" Urib was really getting annoyed I suppose. I opened it, and it was full of these sticks - well canes in fact, on closer inspection. "Take one," he said. So I did. It was bendy. They were all the same. I waited. "We'll bring it here you idiot!" I brought the cane over to him and held it out and he took it and gave it a twist. "Ok. Bend over." But before I could even do so - THAACCK! - fuCKing fell on my knees didn't I!? and grabbed my backside and fUcking the pain had me sobbing, and "Why did you do that?" He ignored me. The cane had thwacked my backside but unexpected fucking-it really hurt! "Again. Po said you had a decent threshold. Don't see much sign of it here. You need to be able to take some.punishment or you aren't going to get anywhere! Stand up." His voice was calm but very determined. So I got back to my feet and I was about to ask why again when he FUCKING hit THE BACKS of my LEGS and I was literally hopping and FUCKING CUNTS. "No crying! GET OVER THAT BENCH!" There was a sort of padded bench that guys used for ... actually I don't know what for. There was stuff I didn't understand everywhere! So I knelt a bit and reached over so that I was in top of the bench and my backside was in the air and exposed. I mean I still had my shorts on but like that made any fucking difference! I fucking knew what was coming! "Don't scream or I'll make it worse. I don't want a dozen gym-queens rushing in to rescue you!" THAACCK!! "Fu-"THAACCK!! Straight across my backside. "Ok. Now with your shorts down! DON'T start crying! Do NOT beg! You are NOT a baby. You are a adult full grown man and you CAN take it!" I pulled my shorts down with some difficulty and spread my legs so that I was more stable then I felt the cane just stroking my backside like Urib was selecting the best part to hit. "Well look at this. You have quite a peachy bum isn't it? Quite red too. I noticed that earlier. Certainly looks like you can take quite a beating. OK." My backside was red still from the spanking Po had given it that morning. Thank you Po. But this was the worst: he caned my bare backside several times and the backs of my legs like below my buttocks and above the knees and back to my buttocks again and the pain was indescribable. I didn't want to, but I wanted to beg him to stop or scream or shout or anything. I had to just keep my teeth together and shut my eyes. And the pain made me think to myself, like, this is it; this is the end! But when he did stop my backside was so sore I couldn't even think. "Pull them up." THAAK! He struck me again before I could move. "You ALWAYS thank Sir after a beating. NEVER forget that. And just think, of how grateful you are, just that, cause you was getting a teaching of another valuable lesson. OK?!" "Yes s sSirth-ank. You Sir," I wept. THAA-AK "NEVER forget to be grateful. OK. Lesson one. Most important lesson." "Ye-ssSIR!th-ThanKyoussSir!" I was basically crying at this point. "That's better. Now you can pull your shorts up." He said - like it was a kindness - which I suppose it was - but the elastic waist sort of rubbed the sore part when I tried to stretch it over. "Th-tha knyouSir," I whimpered, fighting back my tears which I think were almost too much for me to hold in as I carefully eased my shorts back up over my fire-hot arse cheeks - my chest was still resting in the bench - then I just waited, too frightened to move without permission cause I knew Urib was just looking at me; I think he wanted to see what I did. "Right you can stand up," he said quietly. I stood up, but I was a bit shakey and sniffing. My backside and my legs were so sore ... like, I mean, Why? Yeah? Why did he even do that? It was unbelievable! The CUNT! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ END OF YOU KNOW HE'S SUB, DON'T YOU? - PART 59