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Proper Training

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Bobby has secret fantasies and fetishes. He’s spent many hours on his computer reading porn, fascinated by Female Domination. He reads stories of men being whipped and tortured. In his mind he changes places with those submissive souls, imaging himself locked in chains and feeling every stroke of their Mistress’s whips. He watches videos on X-tube and searches out other fetishes, excited by what he sees. It not just mental, it’s s****l. After hours on the internet, he gives himself the s****l release that he needs. Porn becomes the pleasure he seeks. And then, quite unexpectedly, he wakes one morning after a drunken party to the realization that someone actually has total control of his life. He’s owned by a woman – his most desired fantasy has come to life. No, it’s not a buy and sell transaction, but when you control a man’s c**k, you control his life. Over the next few years he experiences it all from occasional cross dressing to total feminization. He finds out what being used and abused really means, as he serves both men and women alike, satisfying their lust and their sadistic needs. Bobby isn’t forced to do this. He wants it. He craves the pain and often asks for more. He grovels before Mistresses and Masters, willing to serve their every need. He knows that this is his role in life. His destiny.

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Chapter One-1
Chapter One “Oh f**k!” I moaned out loud, and that even hurt. I lay there in bed and felt like I had been run over by a truck. My head was pounding, my throat was dry and I felt like death warmed over. I half-expected I’d start throwing up any time soon. When I tried to open my eyes, the sunshine from my window made me close them tight. Let’s face it, after last night’s partying I was not ready to start my day. I turned over away from the window, pulled the pillow over my head and tried to go back to sleep. So much for that thought. I had to piss. I could feel the pressure on my c**k and couldn’t put it off any longer. I really didn’t want to get out of bed but figured that I’d never get back to sleep if I didn’t. With much trepidation I rolled over, opened my eyes and clumsily headed into my bathroom. It wasn’t easy since I was rather hung over. I stepped up close to my toilet and pushed my boxers down enough to pull out my c**k. “Holy fuckin’ s**t!” I exclaimed. “What in hell is this?” I had reached into my under shorts, expecting to grab a fairly hard d**k to take my morning piss just like normal. What I grabbed was a hand full of hard metal bars. At that moment I was totally awake and was staring down at a shiny steel cage of sorts. There was a quarter inch thick, solid steel ring tightly circling my c**k and balls. My d**k, however, was even more confined and inaccessible. Rigid curved metal bars with numerous rings around them held my d**k in a tight little prison. Through bloodshot eyes I closely examined the strange device, not knowing where it even came from. The cage was maybe an inch in diameter and not about two inches long at the most. My soft c**k completely filled all the available space, even pushing through the narrow openings between the bars. Upon closer examination I found a small cylinder-type lock with a very strange looking key slot. Then I tried to get it off. No matter what I did, there was no way to extricate my pecker from this hideous prison. It seemed that there was no way out. “God, I don’t know what this is, but I’ve got to get this fiendish thing off,” I told myself. I pulled and pushed on every part of the device. Then I tugged and even twisted it, but the only thing I did was hurt my balls. Before long the realization of my dilemma sank in. There was no escaping the monster that had gobbled up my manhood. Suddenly I heard my mother yell. “Are you finally up?” “Yes, Mom.” “Then get some clothes on and get out here.” “I’ll be there in a minute.” I pulled on a pair of sweat pants and headed out into the kitchen to face the music. My mother sat on a stool at the granite-topped island drinking her coffee. “Sit down… we have to talk,” she calmly told me. “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror this morning?” she calmly asked. “No not yet,” I responded. “Well, maybe you should. Where were you last night?” “I went to a party.” “So what happened?” “Not much.” “Not much!” she exclaimed. “So why did I find you sleeping on the front porch at two o’clock this morning?” “Asleep… on the front porch?” I asked in total confusion. Hell, I don’t remember even leaving the party. “I was kidding about the sleeping part. You were totally drunk and passed out cold. You reeked of m*******a, and you’ve got a hickey the size of a golf ball on the side of your neck. And you respond by saying, ‘Not much.’” “I have no idea. Let’s talk later. I’m going in and take a shower.” “Not right now you aren’t?” “Why?” “Because we aren’t through. Sit back down.” “Okay.” “You missed your curfew, you smoked dope, drank to excess and I have no idea what you and your girlfriend were doing. You’re acting just like your father. So, what do you have to say for yourself?” “I’m sorry?” “Nice try.” “Well, let’s see how sorry you are, since you’re grounded” “Grounded? How long?” “A month, maybe more. At least until your B average is an A, and you’ve learned your lesson. The lesson part could take until the end of your first semester.” “January? An A? Quarterly Reports don’t come out for a better than two months.” “Then your grounding lasts until then. And if your marks aren’t up, I’ll take your phone away as well. Understand?” “That’s not fair.” “Fair? You’re on a very slippery slope and heading down the same road as your father. Is that what you want?” “No.” “Then your actions will change. When they do, I’ll end your grounding. Besides, this is your Senior year. You have to apply to colleges right after the holidays and by then you will have a straight A average. Understand.? “Yes, Ma’am.” “Anything else you want to discuss?” “No, Ma’am.” “Now you can shower.” I headed back to my bathroom and looked in the mirror. She was right. I looked kind of bad. Finally I stepped into the shower and let the hot water pound down on me. It helped, but it would take a while for the alcohol and pot to work their way out of my system. I figured it might take hours to get back to normal. When I stepped out, I stood in front of the mirror once more. On the back of my bathroom door was a full length one. Using a smaller hand mirror, I closely examined the new major problem in my life. No matter what I did, it wasn’t coming off. I tried pulling my pecker out of the bars of my jail, but quickly discovered that the inside of the c**k portion had little protrusions that prevented it. I quickly realized that I was f****d. After the usual bathroom stuff I headed back in my room, slipped on my sweats again and sat down at my laptop. It didn’t take long to find out the unsettling news. I had a high security chastity cage on my privates. I found the exact one I was wearing. This goddamn cage was no toy. It was the real thing. The reviews were even more damning. The f*****g thing was made of triple, case-hardened steel and the lock took a special key. And without that key, the only option was a cutting torch. Yea, I thought. Like I’m gonna let someone use one of them on my privates. I had to find out how it got on me in the beginning. I went to the door and yelled, “Mom, I know I’m grounded, but can I have Alex and Johnny come over for a while? I need to talk to them about last night.” “Yea, it’s okay,” she replied. I picked up my phone and texted them. “Emergency! Get you f-ing asses over here now! Hurry!” They both arrived in about a half hour. I turned on some music loud enough that my mother couldn’t hear our conversation. “How’d I get home last night?” I asked them. “We brought you home. You were pretty drunk, but you said you could make it to your bedroom,” Alex replied. “Well, that didn’t work out too well. My mom found me passed out on the front porch about two.” “s**t. What’d she say?” “Nothing ‘til a few minutes ago, and she isn’t very happy. Besides being drunk on my ass, she smelled the pot and saw this on my neck. I’m grounded for at least a month, and I have to get my grades up. Tell me what happened. Who was I with?” “Í don’t know, Johnny tried to explain. We had some beers and shared a joint. Some guy was passing around a bottle of Southern Comfort and you took a couple shots. About eleven you and Jill Spencer went in the bedroom and were making out and stuff. Later we found you passed out on Jamie’s bed.” “Who else was in there with me?” “I don’t remember. Stacy, Ginny and Sherry… I can’t be sure. There were several girls and a couple of guys. Why all the questions?” I stood up and pushed down my sweats. “How’d I end up locked in this?” “Holy fuckin’ Christ! What is it?” Alex asked. “According to the internet, it’s a goddamn chastity cage.” “A what?” “A chastity cage, and it’s locked on so I can’t remove it. Someone at the party had to put it on me for a joke. But, it’s not funny. According to the reviews on the manufacturer’s website, it’s impossible to get a boner, jerk off or even have s*x. And I can’t get it off without the key.” “Maybe it was those three girls, or a couple of those guys who were there. All I know is I have to find the key.” “Why don’t we get some bolt cutters and snip it off. If we’re careful, we won’t cut your little bitty wiener.” “It’s bigger than yours, ass wipe.” “Not anymore, it isn’t.” I wasn’t bashful at this point. I let them examine it more closely. Then I found it on the website once more and let them read all about it. “Holy s**t, Bobby. You’re totally f****d!” Johnny told me. “No, as long as it’s on, I won’t get f****d. What do I do?” “Try the bolt cutters or go to a locksmith. How in hell do I know? I suppose that sooner or later someone will joke about it. A secret like that won’t be a secret very long. Kids talk. I’m surprised there isn’t a picture of you wearing it on the internet already. You know everyone likes to post pictures, especially if they can embarrass someone.” “f**k, I hope not!” Alex picked up his phone and started searching. We’ll just have to watch our phones and keep our ears open.” “And what am I to do until then? “I don’t know. I have no fuckin’ idea.” “As I said,” Johnny replied, “you’re really f****d. Hell, you can’t even whack off! You’re gonna walk around campus and have to look the other way every time some girl walks by in a pair of tight shorts. You’re gonna be so horny and frustrated by the end of the day it’s not funny. “By the way, did you see that tiny, black thong sticking out of Maggy Thompson’s jeans last night. Boy, I’d love to see where that string goes.” “Same place they all go. You’ve seen those women in your dad’s Hustler magazines,” I responded to his guy talk. “Yea, but I’d like to see one up close and personal. You know the real thing. I bet it would smell real sweet, just like honey?” “They don’t smell like honey.” Alex answered back. “How the f**k do you know?” I asked. “You’ve never been in a girl’s panties.” “No, but I smelled them.” “You fuckin’ pervert! You smelled some girl’s panties.” “It was a scientific experiment.” Both Johnny and I laughed. “Scientific experiment?” “Yea, I read in one of the stories on the internet about it smelling like s*x and lust. And since I’ve never experienced s*x or lust, I did a test. I sniffed the crotch of my sister’s underwear that was in her clothes hamper that she had worn around for the day. Then I smelled the ones she wore out on a date that night. Trust me, there was a difference and neither were honey. It was more exotic, even erotic. It was… ah… heavenly.” “You’re sick. I can’t believe you put your nose in her panties and sniffed,” Johnny laughed. “You know, several years ago my uncle would tell me not to go around sniffing bicycle seats,” I told them. “I was about nine and never knew what he meant. Now here we are, three virgins talking about girl’s panties and how they smell.” “How do you know we’re all virgins?” Johnny asked. “You haven’t even got to second base with a girl.” “Have too.” “Who?” “Phyllis Shutters. Last year I took her to the movies, and we went parking. I rubbed her boob.” “Sure, she let you touch her little tit! You’re such a lying piece of shit.” “Well, it’s obvious you aren’t going to get any for a while.” “Maybe I did last night and don’t even know it. Look at this hickey on my neck.” “You probably got the cleaner hose stuck there when you were doing your sister’s cleaning.” “Yea, right! So, what the f**k do I do about this little problem I have?” Johnny laughed, “Little! Looks kind of major to me.” “I don’t know. Wait it out I guess,” Alex responded, putting his hands in the air. “That’s fine for you to say. You can go home and jerk off any time you want. How many times a day do you do it anyway?” “Three or four, sometimes more. What about you?” “I used to do it about the same. Most guys do. I guess I can’t any more. At least not until I find out who has the key to this f*****g thing.” “I read something in one of those internet stories about a key holder. Now I know what she meant,” Alex told us. “Well, someone out there is my keyholder, and I’ve got to find her.” “How do you know it’s a girl? Besides, are you going to go up to every girl who was at the party and ask them if they have the key to that thing? You going to just whip it right out and show them or what?”

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