One Sub Stud Ch. 01

"Very poetic, boy. Although I wouldn't recommend sitting on rocks for a few more days."

Chris smiled politely.

"So how are you feeling?"

The bearded boy suppressed a grimace.

"Horny and achy, Sir."

Mark smiled kindly. "I know boy. I meant, how are you holding up mentally? Everything ok?"

"Yeah, I guess," Chris said. He appreciated the inquiry, but the uncertainty of where this was all going and how long his lockup would last was causing non-stop anxiety. "I wish I knew when you were going to unlock me."

" . . . Sir." Mark finished for him.

"Sir," Chris echoed curtly.

Mark raised an eyebrow. "Mind your manners, young man. Snippy boys stay locked."

Chris rolled his eyes but subsided.

"I'll unlock you when I think you've learned some lessons about chastity. How to behave, for example."

"I've been really well-behaved!"

"Oh really? You seem a little impatient."

"I'm just having a hard time adjusting to this . . ." - Chris lowered his voice to a whisper - ". . . thing around my cock. Sir."

Mark's face was impassive.

"I know, boy. It's part of your training. And if you don't improve your attitude, it'll part of your punishment."

"But I've been in it for 12 hours!" Chris raised his voice. "And it hurts!"

"Are you yelling at me, young man?"

"No, I'm not. I would just like to know when you're planning on taking this thing off."

Chris' animation had caught Jerry's ear; he turned to look at Mark, and winked.

"If you don't start behaving again, never," Mark replied sternly, his cock thickening.

Chris snorted with outrage. "Come on, it's a simple question."

Mark shot a look at Jerry.

"That's enough, young man. You're being disrespectful."

"I am NOT, I'm just asking a question," Chris pouted.

Mark stood up.

"Come with me."

"What? Where?!"

"I said come with me." Mark took a step toward the back of the diner. "Do I have to grab you by the ear in front of all these people?"

The Dom spoke just loudly enough that the couple at a nearby table could have overheard, if they hadn't been engrossed in their own political conversation. Chris was mortified and growing angry . . . but the plastic around his dick left him few options. If he left the restaurant, he'd have to walk all the way to an emergency room to get it removed. Or to a hardware store. Finding one with a hunky, sympathetic guy with a saw and a VERY steady hand seemed unlikely. He got up, and followed Mark in the direction of the kitchen.

They passed the restrooms; Chris grew more nervous. What was all this about? He had imagined a couple of swats in the men's room like at the Thai place the summer before.

Jerry caught Mark's eye and cocked his head subtly. Mark followed the direction of the owner's look and saw a door on the far side of the dish washing station.

"Over here, young man." Mark led the way, and opened the door; it was a small broom closet. Perfect. "Get in."

Chris hesitated, but when he realized that both cooks and the busboy were staring at him with curiosity, he scurried in to escape their attention. Mark followed and shut the door. There was a single fluorescent bulb overhead, and a thin line of light under the door. The sounds of clanging pots and utensils filled the little space.

Mark immediately grabbed Chris' belt and undid it, lowering the boy's shorts and underwear to the floor.

"I will NOT tolerate disrespect from a sub I'm training, Chris. The discomfort you're feeling right now is only going to get worse."

The boy was too stunned to protest, as the humid air from the closet hit his exposed bottom and caged dicklet. He felt large hands grip his torso. Mark put his left foot on a box of decorations, bent the boy over his knee, and looked around the closet to see if there might be an appropriate tool. Mostly bottles of cleaning supplies. A mop. Wait, what was that? Mark reached over to a shelf. It was the brush of a push broom, but it was missing its pole. A bit severe, but it would do. And Chris needed to learn that Mark was not messing around. He picked it up, wondering for a second if Jerry had left it there on purpose. Either way . . . it was getting used.

"I am VERY disappointed in you, Chris. You've been doing nothing but sulk and whine all morning. Chastity is hard. Sub training is hard. But you need it, right, boy?"

Chris did not reply.

Mark looked briefly at his boy's proffered buttocks - they were still striped from last night's caning, but the marks were only pink now instead of red. This is definitely gonna hurt, he thought.

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! . . .

Mark delivered five blows in quick succession. There was no way the kitchen noise was covering it - they both knew it. Nonetheless, Chris fought back any sound - no yelling, no crying, just very quick gasps with each swat.

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!

Mark didn't speak either, but attended to business and dispensed harsh justice.

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!

Each stroke fell with equal strength. The handsome, built Dom did not hold back. There were forty in all, and then it was done. Forty hard swats with the back of a wooden brush on an already caned bottom. Chris was in agony, but he didn't make a sound. His solid, muscular ass was bright red and turning crimson. Small rough spots were appearing in the plumpest part of both cheeks, but there would be no lasting damage - despite the speed of the punishment, Mark had paid attention to aim and coverage. He replaced the brush on the shelf.

"Pull your pants up, boy."

Chris obeyed, blinking tears away from his eyes.

Mark reached for the doorknob, but Chris grabbed his wrist.

Not daring to make eye contact, he pleaded: "Please don't make me walk out in front of all those people, Sir!"

Marked glanced down at his sub's short blond hair. He took Chris' chin in his hand and spoke firmly.

"You need to learn how to show respect for your Dom, Chris. I'm investing time in training you, and you need to take responsibility for when you fuck it up. Your attitude needed adjusting, and so I took appropriate measures. Do you disagree?"

Chris shook his head, scared.

"You were so sweet and humble last night, and this morning you're a different person. I can't let behavior like that slide. You are to be polite and respectful and all times. Discipline is going to teach you that. And so is embarrassment. Yes, you are going to march right out there, back into the kitchen, past the staff, past the owner, and past the other customers. You will wait on the street. I will pay the bill, and collect you in a minute. Is that understood?"

Defeated, Chris twisted his head gently out of Mark's hand.

"Yes, Sir."

Mark opened the closet door. Chris took a step out, and then saw a rear door just a few feet away. It looked like it opened on the alley behind the diner. He begged Mark with his eyes, but the Dom shook his head. Something in the slim, muscular boy's face and bearing changed in that moment. Was it resignation?

Chris walked as quickly as he could to the front of the restaurant, wincing with every step. That wooden brush had been no joke. The cooks looked at him curiously, and one of them grinned; they were too busy to get involved, though. The other patrons barely noticed the boy, although one male couple seated near the back of the dining room looked at Chris intently as he passed.

Mark walked calmly to the register, and handed his bill and credit card to Jerry.

"Bit hard on him, weren't ya?" Jerry said with a smile as he swiped the card.

Mark shrugged amiably. "Sometimes a boy needs to learn a hard lesson. He'll get over it. He's a great kid." He signed the receipt. "Thanks for accommodating."

"Any time, Mark," Jerry replied. "That got my morning off to an exciting start." He leered at Chris' tight body, visible through the bay windows.

"Easy, bud - no sharing. Yet," Mark joked. "See ya later."

Chris tensed when he felt Mark approach. Mark patted him on the butt, and he flinched.

"That's a very well-punished bottom, young man."

Chris nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"You'll have lots to time to think about how you earned it."

Chris nodded again, waiting for instruction. Mark began to walk, and Chris followed silently.

Mark looked at his boy carefully as they crossed the street, and decided there'd been enough scolding. He left Chris to his thoughts for the six blocks back to Mark's condo. It was already a sticky day, and they were both sweaty by the time they got to the front door.

"Why don't you come up -"

"I have to get to work -"

They spoke at the same time.

"Work? I thought you were off today."

"No, I have to be in at 11:30, Sir," Chris said, staring at the ground.

"I see." Mark studied him for a moment. "You didn't mention that last night."

"May I go get my jeep, Sir?"

"Yes, boy." Mark was surprised. Chris had not asked to be unlocked. Well, good boy, I guess - Mark smiled encouragingly.

They went in, and headed to the underground garage. Chris exited the elevator and made a beeline for the car. Mark half-jogged to keep up with him.

"Did you leave anything upstairs?"

"No, Sir."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Sir." Chris opened the jeep door.

"Wait, boy."

Chris stood still.

"Are you planning on leaving with the lock still on?"

"I don't know, that's up to you, Sir."

Mark looked at him searchingly, but the boy kept his eyes focused on Mark's shoes. The Dom thought for a quick moment.

"I think you've worn it long enough, boy."

Chris' shoulders relaxed noticeably, although otherwise he maintained his posture.

"Yes, Sir."

"Unbuckle your belt, boy."

Chris complied, too emotionally exhausted to bother to check if anyone was around. Mark glanced over his shoulder, but they were between two tall vehicles, and this wouldn't take long.

"Lower your shorts, boy."

"Yes, Sir."

Mark fished in his pocket, and slid the long, old-fashioned-looking silver key into its slot. He turned it, and withdrew it. The metal bit which had held the plastic pieces together was now reattached to the key.

"You can take it off, boy."

"Yes, Sir."

Chris removed the penis tube, and popped his nuts through the base ring. It was off in seconds, his member now naked, shriveled, weak-looking. He pulled up his clothes.

"Thank you for brunch, Sir." Chris handed the Holy Trainer back to Mark, and got in the car.

"That's it, boy?"

Chris concealed a grimace as he adjusted himself in the seat. It hurt to sit, and to move.

"Thank you for training me, Sir."

"Of course, boy." Mark leaned in through the open window. "I care about you, Chris. I care about you a lot."

The boy looked up momentarily, but his expression was inscrutable.

"Thanks, Sir. I care about you too, Sir."

Chris turned on the ignition.

"You did a good job last night, boy. It's all a process. The first time in chastity is always tough. You made it over half a day. I'm proud of you."

"Yes, Sir."

"Text me when you get home, ok, boy? I want to know what you're thinking."

"Yes, Sir."

Mark hesitated, then added, "We didn't talk about it, but I hope you've decided to stay in your apartment your senior year, Chris. I think that would be better for you than moving in with . . . than moving."

"Yes, Sir."

Mark smiled, and kissed Chris on the cheek.

"Ok. Drive safe, boy."

"Yes, Sir."

"And don't forget to text me when you get in."

"Yes, Sir."

Chris pulled out of the space and waited for the gate to open. Mark waved as he drove off.

Such a great kid, Mark thought, adjusting his swollen cock in his shorts as he rode the elevator up to his condo. He's taking it hard right now, but he'll be jacking off tonight about getting an ass-beating in the broom closet - and we both know it. He laughed easily to himself. And after a few weeks, or maybe even a few hours, he'll be begging me to try chastity again. This one is a keeper.