The Community at Barstock Hollow

"You made noises in confinement. There are no noises in confinement. Understood?'

I nodded and whispered 'sorry.'

'You do not apologise. You learn. We teach you. Your first lesson is to learn to learn.'

'24. Begin.'

As always in Bostock, everything was done slowly, calmly and purposefully. A female Commander walked around me slowly and then stood in front of me, about two metres away. A second commander entered from the door to my right and handed a long leather strap with a wooden handle to the first commander. A few moments later the first stood behind Me., and whispered into my ear:-

"This will hurt more than you could ever imagine. Remember that pain comes in waves. When the pain is intense you have to understand that it will fade'. Try to prepare to ride the peaks and regain your composure and take deep breaths in the troughs. You have to learn the rhythm of pain. If you lose control it will be far worse.'

A few moments later I heard a loud crack and momentarily felt nothing. Then an unbelievable wave of agony seared across my backside. I felt like I was being branded. It just burned into my flesh and increased into a purple agony that made me nauseous and I could hear someone let out a terrifying scream of pain. I knew that I could not take another blow like that. Not now. Not ever. It was quite impossible for any human being to endure that much pain. I screamed 'stop, stop, I can't take this, it is too painful'.

The second woman Controller said nothing. Slowly she walked around me, and I heard her boots clicking on the stone floor. I looked up and foolishly made eye contact hoping for some connection, some communication that would evoke some understanding from this Controller.

"Do not make eye contact, she whispered. Eyes down, now"

I immediately bowed my head and focused on her tight flat stomach, realising my terrible error. I could not have been more stupid. Her steely grey eyes met mine with a flat emotionless stare. There was no connection at all. I might as well have looked into a shark's eyes, they had the same cruel, lifeless, almost alien quality.

The first controller walked up to me, and after a pause announced, calmly and in almost a whisper:-

'Right. You learn. We teach. Three lessons. Lesson 1 continues. You learn to learn. 24, and we start again, but with a gag. Lesson 2, 24. You learn not to debate our decisions. Lesson 3. 48. You never make eye contact.'

The first controller picked up a bright red gag and strapped it in place, forcing the smooth ball between my teeth and pulling tightly around the back of my neck and the back of my head. My mouth was forced open, my lips were stretched and I could only breath through my nose. My tongue pressed hard against the ball, as I struggled to move it, to find some moisture to relieve the discomfort and prepare myself. I knew that I could not survive this., and for the first time in my short life I contemplated the end of my miserable existence in the hands of these cruel women.

'Begin'.

This time I knew what to expect and tried to compose myself as best I could. I felt completely helpless, terrified, but yet strangely calm. Almost peaceful as if any possibility that I had any control in my fate had been taken away from me. The first crack landed, this time across the top of my legs. The sensation was even more painful than the last time, as the leather strap curled into my inner thigh and bit deep into the soft sensitive skin at the top of my leg. I rocked from side to side violently to try and dissipate the pain, and breathed hard in and out of my nose. I couldn't bear the pain, it was more than I had ever endured. Crack, another strike, this time curling around my left thigh. A momentary pause and then a rush of pain that tore into my leg and rushed up my back like a bolt of electricity. I tried to struggle again, but the controllers had tightened my restraints and I was barely able to move at all. My vision sharpened and took on a purple blue haze.

After 24 strokes there was a pause. By this time my entire backside and the back and sides of my thighs had taken the most awful punishment. I could feel a sickening burning sensation, and sensed that it would take weeks if not months to heal. The controller walked around and after along pause whispered close to my ear:-

'Are you learning to learn boy?"

I nodded in reply quickly, breathing hard in and out, sweat pouring down my face and body. My legs were shaking uncontrollably and I had to rely on the restraints on my arms to keep me upright.

'Good. Now you are able to learn then we shall teach you. You never question our decisions, ever. You obey, you are grateful, you learn. Begin.'

Again the slow and exquisitely painful ritual began, only this time my skin felt broken and wet, and every crack seemed to dig further into the bruised flesh beneath. At 17 I passed out.

3.Preparation.

Although terrible, in a strange way I got used to these beatings, and although not looking forward to them, after a few weeks I began to see some positive effects on me, psychologically. They were always structured around a particular misdemeanour or lesson. I always learnt that lesson, and I never had to repeat the punishment. The controllers were always fair and they always followed up each punishment with a long and detailed lecture on why I had been punished, what I was expected have learnt and why it was good for my training. After a few months I leant only to listen and absorb the information that was imparted to me. I became meek and obedient, and eager to learn more. My legs and buttocks were constantly covered in angry red weals and black and purple bruises. I was in constant pain and experienced a tearing sensation across the top of my legs whenever I made a sudden movement. I learnt to moisturise my legs and buttocks constantly to soothe the pain and aid the healing. I felt that the controllers loved me, because they were not ignoring me, my greatest fear. I realised that I was beginning to learn to feel the emotion of love through the experience of pain. If I was being punished I was being loved. If I was not being punished I was being rejected. If I was being whipped I felt everything was fine, because I was being taken care of. I had a role in life. So slowly I began to enjoy the punishments for the enormous sense of belonging they gave me. I learnt to enjoy the lectures because they made me feel that I was pleasing my controllers. Nothing else mattered but to please my controllers through the experience of pain and the experience of knowledge. I listened for hours, head bowed, to the gorgeous mellifluous voices of my controllers constantly talking at me, talking down to me, pushing me into submission.

Little did I realise at the time the enormity of the changes that the controllers were imposing on me, and how profoundly this would affect the way I behaved for the rest of my life. I was quite literally being broken physically and psychologically, and then being re-assembled as an obedient servant willing to learn, desiring to please and feeling reassured and loved through the happy acceptance of terrible physical pain.

The final part of my preparation was a structured course on skill training. I had been selected as a male domestic husband. I had also been blanked, so my duties were not going to include propagation.

The skills were based on three main areas:-

House attendance duties.

Wife attendance duties.

Guest attendance duties.

My roles were clearly defined. I would never be allowed to leave my house, ever. I would be given a highly structured routine and I would never receive any thanks or recognition. My very existence would be a huge privilege and I would forever be completely indebted to my wife Controller that for being allowed to continue to serve her. I could earn up to 5 extra privileges, but these required an extraordinary effort to achieve, and were very very difficult to retain.

I learnt a huge array of new tasks, and found this part of Preparation enormously rewarding. I learnt to clean, to organise, to wash and iron, to polish, scrub and to vacuum.

I was assigned a wife controller aider, for three months, who taught me all of the skills necessary to maintain the cleanliness and beauty of my future wife controller. I learnt to apply make-up to her, to prepare her nails, to shave her legs and other parts, to wash her intimately, to pleasure her and to understand every millimetre of a wife controller's body.

I also learnt to pleasure her guests, but that is an entirely different subject.

So finally it was Collection day. I had learnt and re-learnt a multitude of new skills, I had experienced the joy of love and recognition through the acceptance of pain and I had learnt the sheer pleasure of service through the need to please my controllers, who by this time I adored. The beatings had stopped. There was no need. I had become completely compliant, completely controlled and completely submissive. I existed only to serve and only to please.

Naked and happy I was led up to the bright skies of outside for the final time and presented to my wife Controller. There was a great deal of ceremony, but it did not include me. Contracts were signed, there was lots of hugging and kissing and an amazing party took place over several hours. I however stood naked on a wicker platform with 20 or so other Bostock Finalists completely ignored, staring down at my feet, daring neither to move or make a sound.

Eventually, late at night the ladies started to hug and kiss and say their goodbyes and the large crowd of women from the outside started to make their way holding each other up, clutching their heels in their hands singing and dancing towards the gates. One by one the 20 new husbands were put on leads and pulled off the graduation platform and towed home, walking heads down silently behind the laughing, merry group that they would now serve.

I remember the rain started to fall gently as I was dragged from the platform by my wife Controller's mother. She flung the lead over her shoulder and ran back in her heels clipping to her daughter and her friends as they weaved their way through the armed gates of Focus and into the wide outsides. Although it was very dark there was a soft full moon, and I could make out the mountains in the distance, and feel the cool breeze against my face and body. The grass had a sweet scent, and I could hear the mountain streams as they burbled through the town from the high mountains above us. This would be the last time I would be outside, and I breathed in every sweet cool lungful of air as if preparing for a long dive underwater, which in many ways is exactly what was about to happen to me.

Home.

The various family groups began to break away into different streets and eventually there were just four of us. My wife Controller, her mother and her sister. I padded silently behind them in the light drizzle, head bowed and wondered what on earth would happen next.

My lead was hung up on a small hook by the front door and I was left there whilst the three women walked inside and shut the door. I heard more giggling and laughing, and after a while the voices moved upstairs. As dawn broke the house fell silent and I stood there, slightly shivering in the misty morning light, awaiting my fate.

After an hour the door opened and my wife Controller led me in and upstairs to the third floor. There was just one room up in the attic space, actually quite spacious, with dormer windows, a single metal bed and a plain scrubbed table. A small black towel, toothbrush and comb were laid out on the bed and that was that. There was no light, no bedding, no carpet. Just plain walls, a wooden floor and a tiny sink in the corner. A large digital clock was fixed to the wall opposite the bed, and it read 0530.

On the table lay a small ring binder file and on the cover it read 'Husband Duties'.

A small post-t note on the front read 'Read this and start at 0600'.

That was that. No other words were spoken. As the door closed I quickly dried myself with the towel, combed my hair and sat on the bed and opened the folder.

You have been trained.

You are expected to deliver.

You will silently follow the timetable provided.

At 5 minutes to six, naked, I tiptoed downstairs and finding the kitchen, put on a pair of rubber gloves from under the sink and began methodically to clean the kitchen from floor to ceiling. Dishes were stacked, windows polished, floors polished. I worked deliberately, methodically and without rest. The time flew by, and I started to enjoy myself. The kitchen did not have the institutional feel of Focus. Everything was solid and elegant and beautifully made. At 0730hrs I had finished, and began to prepare my wife controllers breakfast. A note on the table told me to take it to her room at 0815hrs and then to prepare a breakfast for her mother and sister. They would present themselves in the breakfast parlour at 0900hrs.

When I was entirely happy I stood back and admired the tray in front of me. Fresh poached eggs, smoked mackerel fillets, kedgeree, warm toast, bacon, coffee, fruit. A napkin, iced water and a small vase of fresh meadow flowers picked from the garden.

Gingerly I knocked on my wife Mistresses door and waited. After a minute I heard a faint 'Come', and entered the room. My wife Controller lay on the bed, completely naked, legs together and knees slightly bent to the left. Like a beautiful mermaid. She eyed me stonily. On a chair either side sat her mother and sister. Both identically dressed in crisp white linen shirts, black pencil skits, black stockings and black stilettos.

'Put the tray down on the side table'. My wife controller whispered. 'You will eat first'. I saw the faintest smile appear momentarily on her mother's lips as her daughter, my wife Controller spoke these chilling words.

An hour later, I looked up from the floor of the bathroom and watched my mother-in-law slowly zip her skirt up at the back wriggling into it with practiced ease. Her sister sat on the lavatory and adjusted her stockings, and pulling the chain, she too pulled her beautiful lined skirt up over her long stockinged legs and wriggled and zipped herself up. In silence they left the room one after the other and closed the door behind me. Now I had to clean everything up. A hard rap on the door and my wife controller commanded:--

'You have an hour, and I expect to have my bath run and waiting for me.'

With that I heard the three women, laughing and giggling and disappearing downstairs.

I took a moment to reflect on the last hour. The awful intimacy. The absolute power of these women. The total surrender of myself to their terrible demands. I felt sore, full, totally humiliated but strangely at peace. I had provided a service. An ablution, and it was gorgeous feeling, one that I would have to endure time and time again as I honed my skills at total domestic perfection.

After 40 minutes cleaning I gave myself a quick shower, quickly dried myself and ran my Wife Controllers bath. My hands were sore from the constant scrubbing of the walls and ceiling and my mouth still felt red and abused from my time with her mother and sister. When everything was ready I knelt by the bath, as I had done so many times in training and waited. I could hear my heart thumping against my chest, my lips trembled and between my legs I felt an odd sense of loss that I couldn't quite understand. My wife would know what to make of that. My wife would know everything.

How strange it felt bathing my wife controller. Still as beautiful as the day I was chosen two years earlier, her long blonde hair floated gracefully on the water. I carefully washed her with my hands, following her instructions, caressing her with gentle loving touches. Enjoying every moment of this tremendously intimate moment. A trained boy husband with his wife Controller, in complete harmony. Total submissive commitment and unquestionable authority. We could both feel that this would be a very special marriage.

End of Part One.