Training Lesson 1
Danny slept deeply. It’s the body’s reaction to an incredible ordeal. He did wake briefly when he stirred position during a REM event and his abs shot a pain message to his sleepy brain. It wasn’t so bad after all, and he fell back to sleep.
He woke up a second time when someone started jostling him on the cot. He saw it was one of the “testers,” one of the guys who had so brutally tortured him. It wasn’t Jake, the only one of the three identified.
“Wake up, buddy. You did good. Mr. Payner is very pleased and we’re all right proud of you,” the voice said, jostling him some more. “Time to get up!”
He got off the cot with help from Mr. X and then realized he was naked. He moved instinctively to put his hands over his junk, but Mr. X intervened: “Don’t worry about clothes. You won’t need them for a while. Now that you’re hired, Mr. Payner wants to start the training exercises,” he added.
He himself was shirtless, wearing only the tight uniform pants of the company. The man’s nipple piercing was a thick ring which glinted from the bare bulb light. He was one of the furry ones. Danny followed him out the door and down the dim corridor. He was apprehensive when they entered the same room he had been tortured in. Payner and the other three men from yesterday were also there. Mr. Payner was wearing a blue golf shirt and nice, business pants. The other guys were dressed like the guy who had just woken him up, shirtless with dark blue, very tight, company pants. They all greeted him, congratulating him on passing the concentration test. The thought crossed Danny’s mind that his treatment yesterday was more like a concentration camp, but he smiled his response anyway.
Payner lost no time launching into another speech: “You did indeed pass the test and a large sum of money will be given to you later today as your first pay, several hundred dollars in fact. But there is one more step we need to do before your regular job training starts.”
“Sir?” Danny asked dutifully, still bewildered to be back in the cement torture room and naked at that.
“We have a strict code of discipline in the company. It’s needed to ensure everyone of the guards continues to focus on the training they received and has the right attitude for the job. I mentioned total focus yesterday.”
“Yes, sir,” Danny interjected, eager to find out what the hell was going on.
“So, to the discipline,” Payner continued. “You must obey every command you are given during training and on the job. To ensure compliance, if anyone does not obey, they are disciplined down here until they regain the correct attitude. You need to know what is in store for you for the slightest disobedience, so my trainers here are going to show you.”
He turned to the other men: “Prepare him for the demonstration” he ordered.
Danny was startled when the big men grabbed him by the arms and thrust him against the metal pole in the center of the room. What was this? More torture?
He protested when they cuffed his wrists, loosely this time, and lifted them up, stretching out his arms like yesterday, but not so high. They fitted the short cuff chain to a small metal hook and secured it with a carabineer.
“Whoa! Wait! What’s this all about? What the fuck are you going to do?” Danny yelled loudly as he started to struggle against the pole.
His words were cut short when the ball gag was again shoved into his mouth and buckled off behind his head. All he could say now was garbled. He felt the chain going around his ankles again, but his cock and balls were not bound to the pole as they had been. Still, he was in inescapable bondage.
“The discipline we use,” Payner lilted, “Is very basic. It’s a traditional caning on your ass. The concept of caning is old fashioned, but we use a modern variant. Instead of a wooden switch or walking stick, we use a plastic rod.”
He held up the rod where Danny could see it. It was three or four feet long, fairly thin, clear plastic, with a thick, black plastic handle. Payner handed it to Jake, who swished it through the air a few times. The rod whistled as it cut the air.
“The idea of a caning,” Payner droned on as Danny’s stomach turned to ice in fear, “Is to concentrate the blow. A paddle or belt, even a fist or nightstick, distributes the blow across a wide area of skin. The paddle or belt hurts and raises a welt, of course, but the pain from a thin rod is much more intense. It causes deep welts under normal pressure. When used with force it easily bruises and breaks a man’s skin. Every one of the guards in this company has tasted the cane at the beginning of their training and everyone of them knows they will be back down here if they don’t obey the rules. We’re after muscular, aggressive men, like you, Danny boy, but that has to be balanced with absolute obedience. The caning option ensures that.”
Then Payner looked over at Jake. “Please proceed to show Danny here what the rod can do.”
“Sir, yes, sir!” Jake replied, moving into position.