TRAINING BEN

BY TOMMY
encoretommy@yahoo.fr

[ part 2 ]

Since I’d already planned to have some time off work, I didn’t worry about having to get up early, and didn’t come down to Ben till nearly ten o’clock. I carried a tray with a plate of hot buttered toast and tea for me and some scraps of old bread for Ben. In his room, the small boy was already awake and looked at me tearfully as I entered. “Good morning Ben,” I said cheerfully. I undid the chains and removed the velcro pad around his penis. “I’m sure you need to go and use the bathroom.” I said kindly, helping him to sit up. “Wash your hands afterwards and come straight back for breakfast” I heard him flushing the toilet.

He entered the room, covering his privates, looking at the floor. “Sir, please, please can I go home today?” he asked, looking up at me beseechingly. “I’m sorry for being naughty, I really am. Please can I go home now?” Ignoring his questions, I held the plate of bread up. “Come and have breakfast first, then we’ll discuss what to do with you.”

I sat him on my lap and gave him the plate. Fortunately, I’d brought plenty of bread. He was ravenous. I slipped my hand between his legs and held his penis between my fingers. “We’ll have to put some cream on this.” I said, examining it. We can’t let you get an infection under your foreskin, can we?” He was so concentrated on his bread, he hardly heard me. Having finished, I showered him, then led him to the main room where I’d placed my toast and newspaper on the small table next to the punishment bench. I ordered him to stand still while I put some antiseptic cream over the end of his willy, making him flinch again as I pulled the foreskin right back. “I think we’ll leave the cock stretcher off for a couple of hours.” I said kindly. I pushed his ball strap a little higher and checked it was still tight. ThenI stood him in front of me and examined his buttocks. The bruises had almost faded and the redness had vanished.

“Now then, Ben,” I said sitting down, “As I’ve already said, you’re staying here for at least two weeks.” He looked down and started to cry. I decided to give him a bit of hope. “If however, you show complete obedience, I may let you go home earlier.” I picked up a piece of toast. “For example, every morning I want to sit down and enjoy my hot toast but I don’t have anything here to keep it hot. Can you think of something Ben?” I looked at him meaningfully, wondering if he remembered what I’d said the night before. He looked scared, then embarrassed. “My bottom, Sir?” he whispered. “What an excellent idea Ben!” I said enthusiastically. “And how do we get your bottom nice and hot Ben?” He hesitated and looked at the ground. “By spanking it Sir?” I clapped my hands together. “What a clever little boy you are.” I stood up. “Well we’d better get your bottom ready hadn’t we.?” I said, lifting him easily over the apparatus. In a trice, I’d secured him and had his large backside sticking up horizontally. As I stood back, he farted loudly. I suppressed a smile and tried to sound angry. “If you do that again Ben, I will cane you.” I felt his buttocks. “Right Ben, let’s warm them up shall we?” I slapped the paddle down hard again and again waiting for his buttocks to reach my favourite shade of red. Ben shrieked and yelled, but the restraints prevented him from wriggling too much. Finally, feeling the skin begin to get hotter, I stopped and sat down next to him, placing a few pieces of toast on his large posterior. As a piece de resistance, I stuck another slice deep between his buttocks-my personal toast rack.

I took my time, reading my paper from cover to cover. The boy’s cries had died down to a whimper. I took the last piece of toast from between his buttocks. It was cold. “Ben, I wanted your bottom to keep my toast warm but this slice is positively cold!” I said, pretending to be angry. “Are you going to tell me what I have do, or shall I use the cane to jog your memory?” “Please Sir, you have to spank me again.” He answered, his voice shaking. Five minutes later, my toast was warming nicely between two red-hot buttocks.

While I cleared the things away I left him tied to the bench. Taking two vials from the cabinet I prepared a syringe and placed it on the table. “Come on boy.” I said, freeing him from the restraints. “Time to have some fun.” I stood him up and stood him up straight. Taking a metal clip, I fastened his hands behind his back and ordered his legs wide apart. As I picked up the syringe, he began to cry. “I really am getting tired of your incessant noise!” I said sharply. “I want you quiet-now!” Sniffing a few times, the little boy choked back his tears and forced himself to stay silent. Taking his shrivelled little penis between my fingers, I lifted it up and gave him an injection in the base, almost in his testicles. He flinched and cried out in pain. Another two injections I placed on the other side. I put the syringes away and smiled. “You stand there and don’t move boy!” I ordered. “It should start working in about five minutes.”

The drugs, I’d injected were a potent mixture of viagra, vasodilators and erectile tissue specific activators designed for use in certain operations of the penis. Generally used under general anaesthetic, I found it great fun to use on unsuspecting little boys. The dose I’d given would keep him erect for at least two hours. I heard the boy whimper and saw his small willy move slightly.

Over the next few minutes, it grew in length and breadth until it was fully erect. Ben looked on in horror as his tiny willy became a seven inch long throbbing monster, much larger than his normal erection due to the tissue stimulators I’d included. His ball ring, now stretched to the limit, caused everything to be pulled up and out, giving a him a cheeky and provocative look. I feigned surprise. “Ben, you dirty boy, what on earth’s happening to your willy?” He started to sob, looking down at the monster between his legs. I gripped it firmly in my hand. “Looks like you’re stuck with it then!” I said laughing. I felt his little balls held tightly in place by his ball ring. “If you don’t get your willy soft again in five seconds, I will have to punish you!” I said loudly. Ben looked terrified but the erection didn’t go, if anything, his fear made it stick up even more. “Get it down I said!” “I can’t sir, please Sir, it won’t go down.” he sobbed. “You leave me with no other choice then!”

I opened a drawer and took out an old pingpong bat. Tapping into the palm of my hand I surveyed the little wretch before me, his outsized erection sticking up straight. “Ben every morning I like to hit some balls with my bat, but I seem to have lost them all. Do you have any I could use?” I smiled and looked down at his privates, giving him a hint. “S..Sir?” he asked, not quite understanding. I sighed. “Ben, tell me nicely that you’ve got two little balls for me to play with!” He finally got the message and stared at me in disbelief. “Well Ben?” I said coldly. “P..please Sir, I..I’ve got some little balls for you to play with please Sir,” he said very quietly. I pulled my chair up and held his testicles. “Why so you have Ben,” I laughed. I made him open his legs wider and bend his knees. With his penis sticking straight up, his little balls hung down, easily accessible. I put the bat under them and jiggled them about.

“Which little ball should I hit first Ben?” I asked, starting to bounce them about a bit harder. “The right or left one?” “Please Sir, I don’t know Sir” he answered, his voice trembling. “Okay, I think I’ll try this one first,” I said, tapping the testicle on my right. I bounced it gently with the bat, then a little harder until Ben started to cry. “Please Sir, it hurts Sir.” “Okay Ben, I’ll try the other one now,” I said, moving the bat round. I continued for a few minutes until he squirmed, begging me to stop.

“It’s not as bouncy as the other one Ben,” I told him, shaking my head. “You see Ben, it’s a bit like playing squash. You have to warm the balls up first by hitting them really hard. Do you understand?” I asked looking at his sad tearstained face. “Y..yes Sir.” He replied, not yet fully realising what I intended to do. “Well Ben I’m sure you don’t want me to waste my time, so I want you to ask me politely to hit your balls very hard with the bat.” I waited. He choked back a sob and looked at me in terror. “Sir?” he gasped. “B..b..but S..Sir, please Sir..I…” “Quickly Ben!” I said loudly. “P..please Sir, w..w..wil you hit my b..b..balls hard with the bat Sir?” he whispered. “How hard Ben?” I asked him quickly. “V..very hard Sir.” He sobbed. “How many times Ben?” I asked innocently. He looked panic stricken. “F..five Sir?” he ventured nervously. “Five?” I gasped. “Five hits won’t even get even get one of them warm!” I laughed. “No I think a good ten on each ball should do the job.”

Opening his legs a little wider I made him bend his knees even more so I had plenty of room to swing the bat. “I know it’s not a comfortable position Ben but I want to keep your balance. If you try and close your legs, stand up or fall over, I’ll beat your penis with the riding whip! Now let’s get those little balls warmed up!” Lowering the bat to the floor I brought it up smartly onto his left testicle. Ben screamed in agony and twisted his legs as the pain coursed through his whole body. I didn’t rush, allowing him to recover before applying each well aimed slap on alternate testicles. On the third slap he suddenly closed his legs, falling to his knees and curling up. I waited for thirty seconds watching him roll from side to side, wailing in pain, his hands still tied behind his back. “Get up boy!” I ordered coldly. “You’ve just earned yourself a good beating on your willy!” He hardly heard me but curled up tightly on the floor crying. My patience at an end, I pulled the long chain I’d used the day before through the hook in the ceiling and moving his hands above his head, pulled him upright. “Don’t be such a baby!” I said, wiping his eyes.

In one of my drawers I found two separating rods which I fastened between his ankles and one between his knees. By lengthening the the one between his knees and adjusting the lower one, I was able to make him adopt the same position as before. Powerless to close his legs or do much more than wriggle, he sobbed while I sat and watched him. “Because you’ve wasted so much time Ben, your balls have gone cold, so I’m going to have to start all over again.” He moved his legs slightly and winced. The rods made movement almost impossible. I moved my chair and picked up the riding whip. Prodding the tip of his engorged penis with it I made a mental note to repeat this exercise every day. “Okay Ben, for refusing to stand still, I have to give you a quick lesson. Don’t let it happen again!” Raising the whip I proceeded to beat the end of his huge erection. The boy squirmed and screamed but his organ stayed as large and stiff as ever. I continued till the end was a dark red and put down the whip. “Right, now I can get back to what I was doing before!” I said loudly, tapping his scrotum with the small bat. I took my time, waiting till his writhing and screaming had subsided somewhat before each slap. The last five, I gave on both testicles together. Clenching his buttocks in agony he suddenly farted again. I hate it when little boys do that. Giving his balls a last final swipe, I left him to recover while I busied about the room. His cries having changed to moans, then quiet whimpering, I took a wet towel and wiped his trembling body all over. I removed the separating rods but his sore testicles made it difficult for him to close his legs. “Wait a second Ben, I’ve something here that will help.” I said kindly. I sprayed his balls with the same mixture I’d used on his buttocks and injected an anti-inflammatory drug into each testicle.

Releasing his hands I led the naked boy to a small chair and sat him down, his legs still wide apart. “Drink this.” I said, handing him a large cup of orange juice. I’d dissolved a few aspirins in it and waited until he’d drained the whole cup. “Ben, from now on I don’t want to tie your hands together.” I said, looking down at him. “I hope I can trust you to be an obedient boy. If I have any trouble from you and have to chain them again, I’ll do something much worse than warming your balls. Do you understand?” He looked up, cradling the cup to his lips. “Y…yes Sir.” He replied in a small voice.

I looked at my watch. It was almost lunchtime, but I wanted to get a small disciplinary matter clear first. “Stand up Ben.” I ordered. I didn’t see why he should sit longer than was necessary. He obeyed and stood meekly before me. I saw that his artificial erection was finally starting to wear off. “Ben, do you remember when you were warming my toast, what I said when you farted?” He looked blank for a second, then embarrassed and scared. “Well?” I asked, louder. “Y..you said you w..would cane me if I did it again Sir.” he replied, swallowing and looking at the floor. “Yes, Ben I did. And you farted again didn’t you!” He looked at me tearfully. “S…sorry Sir, I couldn’t help it Sir, please don’t cane me Sir.” I ignored his pleas. “I’m going for lunch now. The cane is in the drawer over there. When I come back I want to see you standing here holding it, and I want you to ask me very nicely to cane you for farting.” I looked around me. “While I’m gone you can take some wet tissues from the bathroom and start cleaning everywhere!” Turning my back, I walked up the stairs, leaving the little boy alone.

Back after an hour or so, I heard a quick patter of feet as I opened the door into the chamber, carrying a large mug of coffee. The boy was standing where I’d told him, the cane held gingerly in his small trembling hands. I smiled and stroked his hair. “Well well, what do we have here then?” “P..please Sir, please will you cane me for farting please Sir,” he said quietly, on the edge of tears. “Oh, okay, I suppose so,” I said indifferently, taking the cane from him. I decided to play the schoolmaster and flexed the cane in my hands while talking to him. “For disgraceful behaviour and conduct, namely, farting,” I said solemnely, trying to suppress a smile. “You will receive six strokes of the cane. Bend over and touch your toes!” Surprised and relieved at not being placed over the punishment bench, the small boy obeyed, sticking out his plump bottom for me to punish. I gave him six hard strokes spaced evenly over his buttocks. I was pleased to see that, although he yelled at each blow and cried, he managed to hold his position. His pain threshold was clearly increasing. Punishment over, I sprayed his sore backside and sent him to stand in the corner with his hands on his head.

Having finished my coffee I called him over to me. “Put your hands by your sides Ben and stand up straight.” He obeyed, his eyes still wet from crying. “Ben, you have to learn some self-discipline.” I ran my hands down his sides, tickling him slightly. “Next time you fart you are to apologise and ask me to punish you. You then fetch the cane and bend over without being asked. Is that clear boy?” He nodded his head. “Yes Sir.” he replied sweetly. “Another thing. In the morning when we come out the bedroom you will ask me politely if you can warm my toast for me. You give me the paddle and get into position by yourself. Is that clear?” “Y..yes Sir”, he replied quietly.

Sitting in front of him, I examined his penis carefully. It had now returned to its normal size and I could just see the tip of his small red glans peeping at me. Holding it gently I eased his foreskin back and stroked it slowly. “Ben, I know that boys your age often play with their willies. How often does it go hard?” He looked puzzled for a second. “In the morning Sir when I wake up Sir.” he said hesitantly. “Yes I know that Ben. That’s quite normal. No, I mean do you ever play with it and make it go hard?” He looked scared, wondering what my reaction would be. “S..sometimes Sir.” he replied, deciding to be honest. I stroked it a little harder. “Well Ben, while you are here you will make it hard when I tell you and soft when I tell you, but you’re not allowed to touch it yourself. Understand?” “I think so Sir.” “So Ben, I want it hard now!” I said, rubbing his willy a little faster. “Come on Ben, get it up nice and stiff for me!” I stroked his balls taking care not to squeeze them. I knew they’d still be sore for the rest of the day. I laughed at his expression. He was looking down at his willy and seemed to be trying hard.

Suddenly my mobile rang. I answered it and stood up. Asking the person to hold, I spoke to Ben. “You’ve got five minutes to get that thing hard or it’s the cane!” The person on the phone was a very special friend I’d known for years. We shared exactly the same interests and over the last few years we’d used our common interest to pecunious advantage. Having plenty of like-minded contacts, he organised rather special and expensive parties for small groups of men and even women who paid handsomely for young boys. They’d meet in a rented house somewhere relatively isolated, I delivered the boy to him already ‘broken in’, he took the boy to the party, returning him the next day. We agreed on the usual rendez-vous point and I put the phone down.

Little Ben was still standing there, his tiny willy still hanging down pathetically. Seeing me, he started to cry. “Please Sir, I can’t make it hard Sir.” he whined, already looking miserably at the drawer where I kept the canes. “Okay Ben, I’m not going to beat you-yet.” I said, going to the medical cupboard. “There’s been a slight change of plan.” I took out a selection of vials and bottles. “I’m not allowing it to go unpunished, you understand, I’m just postponing it until tomorrow.” Looking at my watch I ordered him to stand still and open his legs. Ignoring his whimpers I gave him a further two injections of anti-iflammatory drugs and antibiotics into both his testicles. I then sprayed his backside, penis and testicles liberally with the other mixture, ensuring his skin would be lily white again by nightfall. In the bathroom I gave him two enemas and scrubbed him all over in the shower. While I went upstairs for my own warmer shower I made him stand in the corner, his hands on his head, nose touching the wall. I pointed to the three security cameras. “If you move one inch, I’ll know about it!”

On my return an hour later I called him to the centre of the room and fitted a small black leather collar round his neck and secured his hands behind his back. Finally, I produced a small blindfold. “When we get to the top of the stairs, I have to put the blindfold on you.” I explained. “Once we’re through the door, you don’t make a noise, not a sound! Understand?” “Yes Sir,” he answered quietly. “Please Sir, I’m sorry Sir, but ..” “What?” I snapped, looking at my watch. “I’m so hungry Sir, my tummy’s making noises Sir.” he mumbled. I grinned. “Well, you’ll be more eager to please then, won’t you!” Carefully I led him up the stairs and through two doors. A small passage led directly to the garage. I put the blindfold on, and guided him to the car where I sat him on the back seat. It was already getting dark so he’d be unnoticed. We drove for about thirty minutes till I reached a secluded spot on the edge of a vast sprawling park. Totally in the open, yet empty as far as the eye could see, it was a very safe place. As we waited, I turned and looked at the little naked boy sitting nervously in the back. Quickly I removed the blindfold. “Tonight Ben, you’re going to meet some very important people and I want you to be a good boy, okay?” “Yes Sir.” I heard him answer, his voice trembling. “You must be polite and do exactly as you’re told. There may be very strict teachers there and if you don’t work hard at your lessons, they’ll punish you!” I smiled at my little improvised description.

I saw the lights of another car and a few seconds later, my ‘associate’ arrived, pulling up next to me. By opening the car doors, the transfer of the boy was completely shielded from view. He put his head through the window and grinned at Ben, now sitting nervously in the back of his small car. “Nice, very nice!” he said chuckling. We chatted for a minute and agreed to meet at lunchtime tomorrow closer to the trees. “Will he be the only one?” I asked, nodding my head towards Ben. “Not this time.” He said, licking his lips. “They’ll be another one as well.” He laughed. “Plus, one of the guests tonight is the ‘Headmaster’!” I grinned. One of our best clients was a retired teacher with a particularly sadistic streak. I looked at Ben, shivering in the cool air. “Ben, do you know your multiplication tables? Twelve times twelve and so on?” I called. He looked round, scared. “A bit Sir, not very well Sir.” I laughed at the thought of our client’s reaction on seeing Ben’s chubby backside. My colleague read my mind. “He always makes ‘em dress up in school uniform as well.” He said, laughing. “He brings a selection with him, white shirts, thin grey shorts.” He paused. “Not that the shorts stay on very long!” he added, grinning. “And the way he swings that cane….!”

He looked at his watch. “Better be off then,” “Wait!” I said , suddenly remembering something. “How about something to break the ice?” I said winking and pointing at Ben’s small willy, half hidden between his thighs. “Good idea!” he said, catching on. “Always goes down well, especially with the ladies!” he added.

Taking a syringe out of my pocket I leaned over to Ben and made him open his legs. Three injections and it was done. “I’ve given him enough to last two or three hours.” I explained. “Should start working in a few minutes.”

I watched them drive off, and returned home.