By Bikermike

Nick and Trev often met at the bikers’ cafe to exchange general bike talk, or more often than not, a talk about their sexual adventures. These included tales and anecdotes concerning their experiences and desires in the world of male-to-male bondage and sadomasochism. They had experimented together on a few occasions; once or twice within a group of three or more men. However, Trev had a regular BDSM ‘partner’, whom he called Roger and sometimes referred to him as his Master, while Nick had to make do with whoever he could find on Recon and who also lived within a reasonable distance.

One hot day during the summer both men met at the cafe and spent several minutes ogling other male bikers, some of which were posing minus their leather bike jackets and T shirts exposing their muscled torsos. Nick said ‘I sometimes fantasise about life in a borstal; y’know, how it was several decades ago when the gaolers wouldn’t hesitate using canes and the birch to maintain discipline. I have read accounts of boys who had been birched and abused, which have really turned me on. Wouldn’t it be great if you and I could somehow live that fantasy for a weekend? Punishment and birching and all?’

‘Ha! I experience similar very often when I stay at Roger’s place,’ replied Trev, ‘I am made to work on his garden or something involving hard physical work and get beaten if it hasn’t been carried out to his satisfaction. l am also forced to have sex with him without question and if I don’t perform as expected I get another beating. Needless to say I really enjoy it!’

‘Would he be interested in treating us both as his prisoners in a borstal, say for the whole weekend sometime? The harsher the better?’

‘I can only ask him. He can be really quite sadistic as I have told you before. Do you think you can handle some of the things that he would do to me?’

‘To tell you the truth,’ replied Nick, ‘on most occasions when I get home after hearing your adventures with him l have to have a bloody good wank! You lucky sod having him as your Master!’

‘Well, when I see him next week I will ask him respectfully. May I give him your email address? No doubt he will ask you questions and if you want to get anywhere, you must reply in as grovelling a tone as possible. that really turns him on! I have told you about some of the things he likes to do and the gear he’s got,’ continued Trev, ‘so as l say, do you think you could handle a weekend with him as his prisoner?’

‘Yep, l’d love to give it a go! Bring it on! I would love to experience a real judicial style birching!’

‘That’s not all he’d do. He likes to torture, long hard and slow.’ warned his companion. ‘You might have marks on your body for several weeks.’

Nick said that he was adamant that should Roger be agreeable, he would thoroughly enjoy a weekend at Roger’s place and at his mercy.

***

The following week Nick received the e mail he had been waiting for. It read:

 

I have been informed that you would like to experience borstal training over a weekend period. I can provide that experience but I should warn you that you will be subject to a strict correctional regime with harsh discipline.

You will wear uniform and will be confined to your cell throughout the training period, unless I deem otherwise.

You will need to contact your friend Trev so that you can both arrange a suitable weekend.

Supply me with a recent photograph of yourself shirtless by return.

R

 

Excited, Nick found a picture of himself wearing extremely brief Speedo trunks that was taken a year ago on a beach in Gran Canaria. ‘Not bad’, he said to himself. The trunks certainly did not leave much to the imagination, accentuating his very prominent bulge. They also seemed to enhance his athletic physique, which had been honed by twice weekly visits to the local gym. He remembered fondly the fun he had on that holiday, bedding two muscled lifeguards at once, one Spanish, the other English, in his hotel room night after night. He toyed with the idea of photoshopping his pectoral muscles, biceps and bulge but thought better: no doubt Roger would be able to tell that the picture had been enhanced.

He replied:

 

Sir,

As you will see I have attached a recent photograph of myself as you required.

I consider that I am in sore need of correctional borstal training to make me more respectful of my betters in the future. I would imagine that I will need the strictest of regimes that you may offer and I will do my best to learn from the harshest of discipline that I will no doubt deserve from time to time throughout my sentence.

I will speak to Trev to arrange a mutually suitable weekend.

Thank you Sir.

Nick

 

He waited a few days before he received a simple message from Roger:

 

You and Trevor will arrive at my house at 1800 this coming Friday. You will not be any more that five minutes early and under no circumstances arrive late.

R

 

He then rang Trev who stated that he had received a similar message.

They had arranged to meet up on the bikes and then to ride together to arrive at Roger’s at the appointed time.

On that particular Friday the weather was warm and not too sunny; ideal motorcycling weather. Nick had decided to wear his tightest and to his mind his sexiest black race suit with nothing by way of underwear underneath. He loved the feel of biker grade tight leather against his lean torso as he squeezed into the suit, locked up his house and set off to meet Trev at the rendezvous. Arriving at the place he found Trev already waiting, sitting astride his Fireblade wearing his leathers, the colour of which matching the bike, with the zip pulled down almost to his crotch. Nick couldn’t help but admire his companion’s almost hairless and muscular torso with the deep cleft separating his pectorals, extending down and dividing his pronounced abdominal muscles. He felt that tell-tale exquisitely pleasant feeling in his groin as his cock began to harden, partly at the sight of Trev but mainly in anticipation of what was likely to happen over the weekend.

They rode slowly so as to not arrive too early at Roger’s house and pulled onto his drive at two minutes to six. They parked the bikes up and Trev gingerly tapped on the front door. A booming voice from somewhere inside said ‘Enter!’

Trev whispered ‘Always look down in his presence. He loves that submissive pose. Under no circumstances speak unless you are spoken to!’ With those instructions issued, both men entered the house and stood in the hallway.

The voice boomed ‘You two! Enter the room on your left and strip. Trevor, you wear the shorts I have laid out for you. As for you new boy, you will remain naked until I have interviewed you. Understood?’

Both replied ‘Yes Sir!’

They did as instructed with Trevor slipping on a pair of dirty orange baggy prisoner’s shorts and with Nick standing totally naked. ‘Stand still and to attention when he enters the room Nick,’ advised Trev. ‘He will likely leave me here while he gives you a tour’ (He sniggered as he said it) ‘of the facilities!’ A few seconds later, a big man entered the room dressed on leather jeans and tall leather boots wearing a white wife beater singlet over his substantial torso. In his hand he held a pair of handcuffs.

‘You boy! hands behind your back!! He said, glaring at Nick. Without answer and with his head bowed, Nick did as he was told and Roger secured his wrists with the handcuffs. ‘Follow me boy! Remember this is a borstal! You will be subject to the harshest of discipline! March! Chest out!’ He left the room, followed by Nick, leaving Trev still standing to attention.

Roger marched Nick along the hall then into another room on the left. Passing doorways of other rooms Nick noticed that the whole house seemed to be a place of bondage and punishment. One room looked as it contained a medieval rack, another had chains suspended from the ceiling and yet another contained whips, paddles and canes hanging from a rack affixed to the wall. ‘Stand there!’ Barked Roger pointing to a place just below a hanging chain, ‘Legs apart!’ Pulling Nick’s cuffed wrists about a foot higher, he secured his handcuffs to the base of the chain hanging from the ceiling by means of a cleat.

‘Not a bad body boy. I take it you work out in the gym, eh?’

‘I do Sir!’

Roger then inspected Nick’s body, running his hands over his neck and shoulders, down his back and squeezing his buttocks. ‘Hmm. Nice and firm, boy! I hope you realise that they are very likely to feel eith the cane or the birch at some point over your stay here, such is the strict discipline l maintain.’ He carried on fondling Nick’s torso, working his hands down his chest, lingering over his erect nipples then over his abdominals.

Roger continued ‘I have rules that I will explain now. They are quite simple: there will be no talking unless I give you permission. The other is definitely no masturbation. Do you know what masturbation is boy?’ Without waiting for an answer he grabbed Nick’s semi erect penis and said ‘This is masturbation boy! See? it’s disgusting!’ as he gently but firmly ran his hand up and down the by now, rock hard organ. ‘It won’t be tolerated! If I catch you doing it…’ he continued wanking Nick, getting faster and faster, ‘Or if I find any evidence of you masturbating, you will receive twenty strokes of the birch across the buttocks..’ Faster and faster he wanked Nick’s cock but with his other hand fondled his captive’s arsecheeks and finding his hole with a finger. ‘Understand boy?’ Nick’s breathing got faster and faster, he was on the point of orgasm then Roger stopped his ministrations.

‘Yes Sir. I understand Sir!’ gasped Nick, as Roger started to edge him once again, with a finger now pushed up his anus as far as his prostate. Twice more Nick was edged to a point of near climax when Roger suddenly stopped and slapped Nick’s buttocks hard.

‘There boy! Those are the rules. You will both sleep in the cell together, breakfast at six, bread and water, hard labour all day and maybe some entertainment tomorrow evening.’ Roger said with a twinkle developing in his eye at the last statement. ‘ I’ll fetch your uniform and then you will be accompanied by Trevor to the refectory. Bread, water and fruit for your meal then a shower then bed!’ He left the room leaving Nick hanging there in chains, with copious precum dripping from the end of his penis. He left the room then returned a minute later holding a pair of orange shorts, accompanied by Trev.

Releasing Nick from his handcuffs Roger said ‘You both will be secured in your locked cell by twenty hundred hours then lights out. You will then be woken at five, physical exercises for a half hour, shower then breakfast at six. You will then work in the garden all tomorrow with a half hour luncheon break. I will then assess how you have both behaved: any misdemeanours will be very severely punished. Understand?’

Nick and Trev replied ‘Yes Sir!’ simultaneously.

Nick slipped on his dirty orange shorts, a few sizes too big, tightened the leather belt holding them up and followed Roger and Trev out of the room and through the house into an annexe. On the table were dry looking bread rolls, jugs and tumblers of water and a few apples and under ripe bananas. ‘Wait until I say you can sit down!’ said Roger ‘Then wait until I give you the order to eat!’ he made the two men stand to attention for several minutes then said ‘Sit!’ They duly obeyed. After another few minutes Roger barked ‘Eat!’ He left the room, locking the stout door behind him.

Trev said quietly ‘I have been through this myself with Roger. We can have some fun together tonight in the cell. We can suck each other off if you like but I know how much that you like to be restrained. If you want I can secure your wrists behind your back with these cable ties that l sneaked in the pockets of my shorts.’ He pulled the stout plactic strips out of his pocket. ‘Now we had better finish this shit meal,’ he continued, sneering as he chewed on a stale bread roll.

‘What will happen between now and eight tonight?’ asked Nick.

‘No doubt Roger will have something unpleasant but fun lined up for us, or at least fun for him!’ replied his companion.

They finished their simple but nutritious meal and waited for a few minutes when Roger unlocked the door and entered. He said ‘You will now clean my leather boots, two pairs each. I want then so shining that we can see our reflections in them. After that you will clean out your dormitory cell to my satisfaction. I will provide you with the necessary cleaning equipment. Leave the table now!’ They obeyed, ‘Now follow me!’

Roger led the two men to yet another room of this large house. In the centre of the floor were four pairs of black leather boots, two cavalry style, a pair of eighteen holed Doc Martens and a pair of army style boots. Standing ominously in the corner was a bucket containing several stout twigs bound together at the top, forming a sort of handle. In another corner Roger pointed to a low table upon which were rags, brushes and tins of polish. ‘You two!’ he commanded, ‘Sit cross legged on the floor and take two pairs of boots each and clean them as I have ordered. I will inspect them after two hours so they had better reach my expectations. you can expect punishment if they have not! Now work!’ He left thr room.

Nick selected the Doc Martens and a pair of the cavalry boots and walked to the table and picked up a brush, polish and a rag. Trev then said ‘I’ll show you how he likes the finished article. He gets me to do this very often before he beats and rapes me.’ Applying the polish to the brush he proceeded to clean then buff up the immaculate leather of the cavalry boots. Nick did the same, glancing every now and again at the progress his companion was making. After two hours, all four pairs were clean and shining. They continued sitting on the floor, as ordered, until Roger entered the room.

Without a word, Roger examined the pair of cavalry boots that Nick had polished. ‘Who was responsible for this? they are fucking filthy!’ He exclaimed.

‘I -l did Sir!’ stammered Nick.

‘That has earned you six strokes of the birch boy!’ Roger said as he held the right boot in front of his captive’s face, pointing to a very minor scuff somewhere along the heel. he then picked up the Doc Martens. Shaking his head he said ‘Ten more strokes boy. Look, you have got some polish on the fucking laces! What a bloody mess! Don’t worry, I am saving the administrations of any punishments until Sunday afternoon when your sentence will have expired.’ he then examined the boots that Trev had cleaned. ‘Hmm. Not too bad, boy. You have avoided punishment for the moment.’

Upon hearing about his forthcoming beating, Nick could feel his cock starting to harden. ‘Thank You Sir!’ was all he said.

Next, Roger marched them into the tiny dormitory cell. In it were two very basic single beds that held thin uncomfortable looking mattresses. Folded neatly at the foot of each were rough looking woolen blankets and a coarse linen sheet. Just off to the side there was a water closet and a wash-hand basin. ‘Here are brushes and dustpans. I want to be able to eat off this floor. Now get on with it!’ he said, pointing to the cleaning equipment in the corner. he left the room, locking the door behind him.

Because the room was small and cramped the two prisoners had great difficulty in avoiding bumping into one another as they swept the floor. Suddenly Trev said ‘Oh fuck this! I can’t resist touching your fucking sexy body Nick.’ With that, he grabbed Nick’s prominent nipples and tweaked and twisted then painfully. Nick placed his hands behind his back and stuck out his chest, affording Trev a better grip.

‘Put those cable ties on me!’ gasped Nick as he writhed and squirmed in pleasure/pain.

‘Luckily I have brought quite a few ties with me.’ sniggered Trev as he tightened the plastic around Nick’s wrists, securing them behind his back. He continued with his painful ministrations with Nick grunting and gasping, with both men’s shorts showing the tell-tale signs of pre-ejaculate fluid leaking from their erections. ‘Suck me!’ said Trev as he undid the buttons of his shorts and pulled out his not-unsubstantial penis. Letting go of Nick’s nipples he used both hands to guide his head downwards to his crotch, forcing Nick into a kneeling position. He sucked Trev’s cock greedily.

In and out, in, out Trev thrust his hips forcing his cockhead to the back of Nick’s throat. With one hand he held his fellator’s head and with the other he fondled and squeezed his own nipples alternately. Faster and faster he fucked, harder and harder he worked his nipples until with a cry he ejaculated into Nick’s mouth, who swallowed immediately.

‘Fuck Trev, what about me? I am about to shoot my load now anyway!’

‘Tell you what. Save it for tonight mate!’ Replied Trev as he buttoned up his shorts, ‘We had better get this room swept. Not that it bloody needs it; it looks spotless anyway.’ He then produced a pen-knife, something else he had smuggled in his pocket and cut the cable tie that had secured nick’s wrists and stuffed the cut plastic under one of the mattresses, together with the other, unused cable ties ready for the fun that he promised for later on.

Nick reluctantly agreed and both men continued as best they could with the sweeping.

Two hours later Roger unlocked the door and entered. ‘Hmm: not bad boys! it’s seven o’clock so you will both run for a half hour round the paddock until I blow the whistle then it’ll be bed and lights out. Trainers are in the hall by the back door. It’s raining so it will be muddy. Accordingly I will expect you to clean the trainers when you finish the run then you will shower any mud that may have splattered onto your bodies. Get to it!’

They both found the trainers and left the house by the back door and into the muddy paddock. They ran, splashing each other, completing several laps until Roger sounded the whistle. Hot, wet, muddy and exhausted they entered the house and removed the soiled trainers. ‘Take those fucking filthy shorts off too!’ shouted Roger, ‘I’ll give you clean pairs in the morning! Now clean those frigging filthy trainers! There’s a bucket of water and a brush!’

The two companions took turns cleaning their trainers then Roger said ‘Shower room over there! Trevor knows the drill!’

‘Cold shower!’ Trev muttered to Nick, out of Roger’s earshot. They both got into the tiny cubicle and gasped as Roger turned on the cold water supply. Again, Trev fondled Nick’s lean torso, his hands wandering down from his nipples, over his taut abdominals to his cock. Nick did the same, gently wanking Trev’s rock hard erection. ‘Aww! Save it till tonight Nick!’ was all Trev would say.

By the time they were both clean their erections had subsided. They stepped out of the shower and dried themselves on the towels that Roger who was still there watching had provided, draped over a rail. ‘Now I will secure you in the dormitory for the night,’ said Roger. ‘Follow me!’ The still naked prisoners fell in behind Roger and marched to the room that would be the dormitory.

‘Sleep tight!’ was all Roger said as he locked the dormitory door behind him. Out went the light, plunging the room into semi darkness. However, just outside the window there was a security light that afforded illumination, sufficient for the fun that Trev had promised would take place.

It took no time for Trev to start fondling Nick’s body once again. He started with his neck, running his hands down Nick’s arms feeling the young man’s biceps. ‘Ah! lovely!’ he exclaimed as his hands wandered once again to Nick’s erect nipples, tweaking them between his fingers and thumbs. down his hands explored, tracing the prominent cleft between his pectorals, via his abdominal muscles to his navel, on down through the pubic hair to the base of his rock hard erection. He then slapped Nick’s balls hard, causing him to yelp.

‘Fucking secure me again Trev!’ gasped Nick, who had been returning Trev’s fondling, running his hands over the hairless torso.

Trev reached under the mattress and pulled out a new cable tie then secured Nick’s wrists as before. He got into the kneeling position in front of his companion, as before.

Trev again worked his hips in and out, in and out until he was gasping, nearing orgasm. This time he abruptly withdrew his cock from Nick’s mouth and wanked himself as hard as he could. With a yell he ejaculated over nick’s face, neck and chest and stood, getting his breath back. he then gave Nick a mischevious grin.

‘What about me?’ asked Nick.

‘Ha! What about you boy?’ replied Trev, menacingly.

‘What do you mean mate? My turn for an orgasm!’

‘Pah! You will remain secured and the spunk will remain on you for your Master to find in the morning. He’ll think you had been wanking so it’ll be the birch for you along with the other strokes you earned today. Isn’t that what you wanted all along? I have had my fun boy, so fuck you. Look upon me as the borstal snitch and prefect. Why do you think Roger didn’t examine my boots closely? We had planned this weekend from the start. Both of us will have our fun with you tomorrow evening but after him discovering that you had been wanking he will lock you in a cock cage. That will mean you won’t be able to come at all this weekend. By the way, call me “Sir”!’

‘Fuck you Trev! I thought we were mates!’ cried Nick.

‘Fucking “Sir” to you, slaveboy,’ replied Trev, slapping Nick hard across the face. ‘Now get to sleep!’

With that, Trev pushed Nick, still secured with cable ties, over onto his back and covered him with blankets. He then got into his own bed and promptly fell asleep.

Nick was still rock hard, even with the thought of how Trev had betrayed him. He supposed it was all part of the borstal scenario. With that in mind he fell into an uneasy and uncomfortable sleep.

***

The following morning a bell sounded, horrible and shrill, just outside the dormitory door. Both men woke up.

‘l’ll cut your cable ties boy,’ said Trev. ‘Roger will be along in a few minutes to inspect us. I see that my spunk has dried nicely on your chest ready for him to see. Are you looking forward to it boy?’

Nick had to admit that he was. ‘I am Sir!’ he replied.

Trev removed the plastic ties and stashed them under the mattress. A minute or so later, Roger entered the room. ‘Let me look at you both!’ he said as the two men stood to attention. passing by Trev he said ‘Good boy!’ he next inspected Nick. ‘What’s this?’ he asked aggressively, ‘You dirty little shit! It’s dried semen! So you have masturbated! Twenty strokes of the birch tomorrow for you boy! Your arse will already be red from the sixteen strokes you have already earned so you’ll certainly feel it! You may even learn a lesson! Now both of you piss or shit or whatever; you will do a half hour of press-ups and sit-ups then cold shower then breakfast!’ he ushured them out of the dormitory and into the room that Nick noted had contained shackles and other implements of punishment. As they entered the room Roger said to Nick ‘To stop you from masturbating again you will wear a chastity device for the duration of your stay here!’

He continued ‘You boy! Get into position and complete fifty press-ups!’ Nick did as he was told, and lay face down on the floor. He selected a short leather whip hanging from the rack on the wall and said ‘I will encourage you with this implement across your back if you falter as you exercise. Now start!’ He counted each press-up as the prisoner strained him arm muscles pumping his body up and down. Trev stood watching grinning, sporting a huge erection.

Nick felt a sharp sting across his shoulders as he struggled with the forty-eigth press-up. He grunted as the two remaining press-ups were accompanied by further mild lashes to his bare back. ‘Up, boy,’ commanded Roger. ‘Cold shower for you!’ Nick struggled to his feet. ‘Quick march!’ barked Roger. The three men left the room and walked to the washroom.

Somehow, Roger secured the shower door, trapping Nick inside. he gasped as freezing water drenched his naked body. A few minutes later a shivering Nick was released and Trev handed him a towel. ‘Dry yourself boy!’ he said, ‘Your cock is flaccid enough so that we can fit your chastity device. You’ll love it! It has spikes on the inside so if you start to get hard you’ll certainly feel them against your cockhead!’

Upon hearing this news, Nick started to harden but just in time, Roger secured the stainless steel cage over his penis and secured it in place with a metal band and small padlock round the base of his testicles. ‘Stand to attention and wait until Trev has had his shower!’ said Roger. Trev then got into the cubicle, sliding the door shut without it being locked behind him. Roger then turned on the water but this time it was warm, as Nick could see by the wisps of steam escaping over the top of the shower enclosure.

After Trev had showered and dried himself, Roger gave both men a fresh pair of regulation orange shorts. Again, Nick’s were a few sizes too big. This was just as well as it turned out, since his chastity cage required the extra material, leaving a prominent but sexy looking bulge at the prisoner’s groin.

Nick’s breakfast consisted of dry rolls and water while Trev and Roger enjoyed toast, eggs and cereal , and fresh coffee.

Once Nick had finished his meagre breakfast Roger said ‘Hard labour for you in the garden for you boy, all day but with half hour for you to eat your lunch. You will dig the vegetable garden all over while we watch. Any slacking will result in further strokes of the birch, all of which will be administered by us two tomorrow afternoon. You have already earned thirty six by my reckoning..’ he turned to Trev, who nodded gleefully ‘…yes, thirty six. I am right handed while Trevor here is left handed. That will mean both of your arsecheeks will receive equal punishment. Now…’ He pointed to a heavy looking pair of boots just outside the door in the hall, ‘You will wear those. Once you have finished your work, we will want to see those boots cleaned and polished properly. You will then have your evening meal and then we will have some special borstal training for you. Now, get on with your work!’

Nick fitted on the boots (Roger had several sizes in storage) and made his way out to the near corner of the paddock that had been already marked for conversion to a vegetable garden. Stuck in the couch grassed turf was the heavy shovel that he would have to use to remove the matted grass and then to dig over the subsoil. Roger followed him out of the house and settled himself on a deckchair. Shortly after, Trev emerged with two opened bottles of beer, pulled up another deckchair and settled next to Roger so the two could watch Nick toiling in the paddock.

An hour went by with Nick’s lean body glistening and drenched in sweat while he tried to remove the tangled roots of the couch grass, shaking the soil out and placing the roots into a wheelbarrow. ‘Please Sirs, may I have some water?’ He cried.

Roger got up from his chair, disappeared for a minute then returned with a plastic bucketful of water. ‘Here boy, come and get it!’ Nick left the shovel stuck in the ground, walked over and picked up the bucket and drank maybe half its contents. ‘Now get back to work boy!’ commanded Roger as Trev looked on grinning. ‘This is what correctional borstal training is all about: discipline and hard labour!’

Nick worked for another three hours and was just about on the point of collapse when Roger shouted ‘Enough for now! Lunch! Quick march over here! Left, right, left right..’ Nick summoned all his strength and marched, as ordered, over to the two men. In the meantime, Trev had fetched another dry bread roll, an apple and a mug of water and bade Nick to eat and drink. He had also prepared a salad, ham and fresh, still warm bread rolls and a jug of coffee for himself and Roger. ‘Kneel on the ground at our feet boy, and have your lunch.’ said Roger, who by this time had consumed a few more bottles of ale. ‘You will have a half an hour break then it’s back to work, boy!’ Turning to Trev he said ‘I fancy a bit of fun. Let us get this borstal boy here to fellate us both. He can swallow our semen as a starter!’ He undid his flies and pulled out his not unsubstantial cock, now fully erect. ‘Here boy,’ he said beckoning Nick to come closer on his knees.

With Trev pushing and pulling Nick’s head up and down the hard cock, Roger came with a roar, shooting sperm down Nick’s throat. ‘Your turn Trevor,’ said Roger as he zipped up his trousers. Trev stood up and removed his shorts completely and remained standing in front of the still kneeling prisoner. Again, Nick could not help but admire Trev’s defined torso; that deep cleft running from his sternum, down between his pronounced pectorals and down via his abdominal musculature to the wiry hair of his torso below his navel. In response, his cock hardened but was painfully constrained by the sharp spikes that lined the inside of his cock cage.

‘Eat my cock boy! Extra lashes if you fail to please me!’ Trev said with a sneer. In and out Trev thrust his hips forcing his cockhead almost down Nick’s throat. ‘Ahh!’ He groaned, ‘You love my big cock, don’t you boy? Aaahhh! Suck it…ahhh…! Please my huge hard cock with your worthless borstal boy’s mouth..Ahhh! You little cunt!…AAAAHH…!’ His cock exploded, expelling a jet of semen into the hapless Nick’s throat. ‘Good boy! He gasped, ‘You haven’t earned any more strokes with the birch yet !’

‘I think our borstal boy here has had his lunch now,’ said Roger, ‘after all he has had a good amount of protein!’ He laughed.

‘Please Sir, may l have some water?’ asked Nick, still kneeling at his tormentors’ feet. Trev fetched him a pint glassful, which he downed almost in one gulp.

‘Now, back to work boy!’ said Roger. ‘Three more hours then you may rest. You will have something to eat then it will be time for some fun. Do you know what painful bondage is boy? ‘

Nick replied that he did and that was something he did not enjoy.

‘Ha! Well we do!’ replied Roger, ‘It will be fun for us to watch you! Don’t forget, very often borstal inmates were abused by their gaolers and senior boys. They had no say whatsoever, they just had to take whatever was dished up!’

***

After Nick had finished his work in the garden and had cleaned his boots the three men ate their supper – Nick’s consisting of stale bread, water and a raw carrot, Roger ordered him to remove his shorts and to stand to attention before him. Nick did as he was told while Trev fetched handcuffs and secured the prisoner’s wrists behind his back. He was then marched to another room in the vast house where chains, hooks and ropes hung from pulleys in the ceiling.

‘Stand here with legs apart!’ Shouted Roger, pointing to an area of the floor underneath a hook. Trev then disappeared for a short while and came in carrying a heavy steel solid ankle iron, some four feet long, which he fixed round Nick’s ankles. Meanwhile, Roger lowered the pulley holding the hook behind Nick’s back and attached the hook to the short length of his handcuff’s chain. when he was satisfied that the hook was secure he hoisted the hook until Nick’s torso was forced into a horizontal position, his mouth being just the right height to enable his captors to face-fuck him.

‘You’re first,’ Roger said to Trev, who wasted no time in pulling his cock out of his shorts and thrusting it into his hapless victim’s mouth.

‘Suck it well borstal boy! If you don’t, or if l think that you aren’t sucking me correctly i will ask our Master here to thrash your arse with a belt. It would soften up your buttocks ready for the birching you’ll get tomorrow!’ Trev said as he clasped his hands over Nick’s scalp, forcing his cock to the back of his fellator’s throat, causing him to gag.

Up and down, up and down Trev thrusted into Nick’s mouth with Roger looking on; his right hand playing with his erect penis. Nick grunted in pleasure/lust/pain as his erect cock, imprisoned in his chastity cage, was being mercilessly stabbed by the device’s spikes. With a nod from Trev, Roger smote Nick’s upturned buttocks with a heavy leather belt just as Trev’s penis erupted into his mouth. He withdrew, panting. ‘Good fuck borstal boy!’ he taunted as he zipped up his flies.

He and Roger then changed position. If anything, Roger’s penis was thicker than that of Trev so Nick had to open his mouth as wide as possible to avoid scratching the precious meat with his teeth, which he thought would certainly award him another severe lashing with the belt, or even many more strokes with the birch later on. this time, Trev had selected a rattan cane and was practicing swinging it through the air. Again, Nick’s erect cock was in agony as he was brutally face- fucked by Roger. ‘Aaaaah!’ his tormentor gasped as he orgasmed, corresponding to Trev lashing Nick’s already reddened arsecheeks again and again.

‘No more Sir! please!’ cried Nick, as soon as Roger had withdrawn from his mouth. Of course, this resulted in an even harder caning from Trev, until Roger ordered him to stop. At another signal from him, Trev again left the room and returned carrying a plastic spray bottle and used it to douse Nick’s inflamed buttocks. Nick yelled as Roger laughed and told him that the liquid was in fact surgical spirit. Trev sprayed him some more then roughly massaged and rubbed the alcohol deeper into the reddened flesh.

Nick required some assistance in standing straight up once he had been released from his wrist and ankle shackles, so sore was his ravaged body. ‘Time for bed, boy!’ said Roger, ‘More hard labour for you tomorrow morning, then it’s the birch!’ he added with a leering grin.

This time, Nick was in the dormirory cell alone. Just before sleep overtook him he wondered where Trev was. Enjoying a good time with Roger, no doubt, he concluded. All in all, he was enjoying himself. Would he allow himself to be so abused again by Trev? After all he was a biker friend as well as a BDSM buddy. He had told him stories of intense sessions he had had with Roger, which had made him envious. Now here he was, enjoying one of the most intense experiences he had ever had. With those thoughts, his cock once again hardened, painfully constrained within the spiked cock cage. He fell into an uneasy sleep.

‘Come on boy, wake up, it’s fiveo’clock. Exercises for you then shower then your delicious breakfast!’ this was Roger, standing in the doorway. Nick rubbed his eyes, stretched and lifted his still sore body off the bed and followed his gaoler out of the dormitory and into the exercise room. There stood Trev, dressed in shorts, weilding a leather belt.

‘Fifty press-ups, boy!’ said Trev, ‘here! This belt across your arse should give you encouragement! Now start! I’ll count!’

This time Nick managed all fifty, but still received a crack across his already striped buttocks with the belt delivered by a grinning Trev. This of course was followed by an icy cold shower, taking his breath away. He dried himself and pulled on his shorts.

Breakfast for Nick consisted again of stale bread, water and a piece of fruit, this time an over ripe banana, while Roger and Trev enjoyed cereal, toast, eggs and coffee, eaten in front of the hapless Nick.

‘Now boy, you will finish digging the vegetable patch, then you will move a pile of paving slabs then it’ll be lunch. after then, you will receive your punishment; thirty six strokes with the birch if l remember correctly?’ said Roger as he glanced at Trev, who nodded, ‘Then you will be released. let us hope that you have learned a lesson and will in the future show respect to your betters!’

When Nick had cleared all the breakfast things away, Trev marched him to the hallway and ordered him to don the boots that he wore the day before, then out into the paddock. Picking up the spade, Nick once again began another episode of back breaking labour, turning over the heavy soil and removing tangles of roots. This time he was supervised by Trev alone, who stood nearby, holding a whip. Nick said ‘Mate, thanks, I am fucking really enjoying this. Please would you give me a taste of that whip? The sight of it in your hand is really driving me wild!’

Crack! without a word, Trev lashed Nick’s bare back. ‘Aaaah!’ gasped Nick, ‘Harder!’

Another crack and another delivered by Trev across Nick’s broad back, causing him to writhe and squirm while carrying on with his digging. ‘Harder still Trev! Make me bleed mate!’ he implored. Trev obliged, slashing his back several more times. Nick’s cock by this time was giving him more pain than his excoriated back was, imprisoned as it was by the spiked chastity device.

‘Stop!’ shouted Roger, as he walked into the paddock. Turning to Trev he said ‘I see our little borstal boy has earned himself another beating. Save your energy Trevor, you’ll need it when you birch the worthless lad’s buttocks this afternoon!’

Nick toiled for another hour and was almost on the point of collapse when Roger said that his lunch was ready. he crawled across the muddy soil to the table where the meagre bread and water had been laid.

‘Well done boy! You have finished digging. Eat your lunch, rest for ten minutes then see that pile of slabs over there,’ Roger pointed over to the far corner of the paddock, ‘You will move them and stack them near the door of the house. The delivery guys wouldn’t do it; not what they were paid to do, they reckoned.’

Nick drank a pint or so of water and walked over to the slabs, accompanied by Trev, still carrying the whip.

One at a time, Nick toiled moving the heavy slabs from across the paddock to the back door, standing them upright, leaning against one another. There were forty in all, but the last few he dropped, exhausted, which earned him a few more lashes from Trev’s whip.

Upon finishing his hard labour, Nick fell onto his knees at the feet of his tormentors, totally spent. ‘We will give you a half hour to recover boy, then it’s the birch!’ said Roger, helping him to his feet.

Roger and Trev led Nick to the room containing the instruments of punishment and ordered him to remove his shorts and bade him lie face down over a vaulting horse. The two men then secured his limbs to each leg of the horse using leather straps. He could not help notice the two buckets standing in the corner, containing straight rods of birchwood, tied with twine to form a handle, soaking in water. His cock hardened once again in anticipation.

‘You first Trevor,’ said Roger. ‘Sixteen cuts!’ Trev pulled a bundle of dripping rods out of their bucket and got into position on the left side of his victim’s buttocks, him being left handed. ‘Go! You count, boy!’

‘One sir!’ cried Nick through gritted teeth as Trev dealt the first stroke, feeling as though he had been branded with a white hot iron. ‘Two Sir!’ as the rods connected with an as yet unblemished area of firm buttocks. ‘Harder Sir! I deserve it!’ he begged.

‘Aaaagh! Three Sir!’ he yelled as this time, a much harder stroke cut into a wound that was made the prevous day by Trev’s use of the cane. Trev paused, only to flick the birch rods in front of Nick’s face, splashing him with drops of his own blood.

Nick suffered each of the remaining thirteen strokes across his bare arsecheeks; some coinciding with already reddened areas while others smote more areas just at the top of his thighs. ‘Thank you Sir!’ he gasped, panting for breath.

It was Roger’s turn. He picked up the other set of rods and delivered still harder strokes, connecting with the other side of Nick’s upturned butocks. ‘Seventeen Sir! Thank you Sir!’ shouted Nick, his voice shrill through his agony. Roger carried on beating his victim, becoming more and more crazed with lust. The birch rods sizzled through the air, discharging droplets of their soaking water mixed with blood.

By the thirtieth stroke, Nick fell silent, having passed out. however, he was quickly revived by water being thrown into his face. ‘Unhhh! Th-thirty one Sir!’ he mumbled, barely feeling the lash. The beating continued until all of Nick’s punishment had been delivered, leaving him whimpering and semi-conscious still strapped to the vaulting horse with his buttocks striped and bleeding. Trev then fetched the surgical spirit, spraying it onto Nick’s wounds. He howled in agony.

Turning to Trev Roger said, ‘I think we can reward ourselves with a good sucking from our delinquent borstal boy here. let’s do it together!’ Trev readily agreed and both men undid their flies and presented their har cocks side by side just in front of Nick’s mouth. ‘Suck, boy!’ Roger commanded.

Standing closely side by side, the two men could only manage to get their cockheads into Nick’s mouth. Taking all his strength and willpower, he worked his tongue up and down, over and under each glans in turn. Up and down, up and down…with a roar, Roger shot sperm into Nick’s mouth followed by Trev, delivering his with a yell. Both men then withdrew simultaneously, breathless.

Roger’s and Trev’s demeanour changed. They released Nick from his fetters and helped him off the vaulting horse. ‘You okay Nick?’ enquired Trev.

‘I am thanks. Fuck! Fantastic! Thanks guys!’ was all Nick could say.

Roger then removed Nick’s chastity cage. His cock hung there limp, looking sore with red marks where it had been prevented from becoming erect by the spikes. ‘Do you want to come?’ enquired Roger.

‘Phew! No,’ replied Nick, ‘I am too knackered. I’ll wait till later!’

Roger said ‘Will we see you again Nick? We have enjoyed beating you as much as you have enjoyed yourself.’

‘I hope so,’ said Nick, ‘Maybe next month? I could take a week off work and be your prisoner for the entire time.’

‘Definitely! Sounds good!’

Roger carefully wiped the drying blood from the unmarked areas of Nick’s buttocks and dressed his wounds using Clingfilm, held in place with sticking plaster. Nick then carefully pulled on his motorbike leathers, wincing as the waistband of the tight leather race suit rubbed against the clingfilm dressings. He hobbled out to his parked-up motorbike and winced as he mounted the seat. ‘Aren’t you coming too?’ he enquired of Trev as both he and Roger stood in the doorway.

‘Not yet Nick, ‘ replied Trev, ‘it’s my turn for a bit of CP. My Master here..’ he glanced at Roger, ‘..has bought a hand cranked telephone generator and wants to try it out on my nuts!’ Roger grinned.

‘Aww, why didn’t you try it out on me?’ cried Nick.

‘Wait until next time, boy!’ replied Roger, with a cruel grin.

Nick bade goodbye to his erstwhile tormentors, dropped the bike into gear and set off, reflecting upon what had taken place over the past two days. He could feel his cock beginning to harden, guaranteeing a good, hard wank once he was home.

The End

Metal would like to thanks Bikermike for this story!