By AlphaMetal

As Trey was finishing up his workout in the weight room, he couldn’t keep his mind from thinking about the procedure he would have to endure in a few minutes.

It was the last Friday of the month. Two months earlier he had been fitted with a cock cage to stop him from jacking off every day. Exactly one month later he had been required to show up at the medical office to have the cage removed briefly so he could ejaculate, to “clean out the pipes” he was told. But instead of letting him jack off and be done with it, they had turned it into a humiliating ritual.

As Trey lay on the weight bench, finishing up his last set of dumbbell presses, he couldn’t stop remembering what had happened a month ago. He didn’t want to go through it again, but he knew he didn’t have a choice: As part of the intake at the military school, Trey and a roomful of other new arrivals had been told what happened to students who refused to obey an order — they were given a choice between a very painful visit to the punishment room or being sent to jail to serve whatever sentence they were there to avoid.

Trey had been given a one-year jail sentence for street racing his Ford Mustang, but it had been suspended when he agreed to the military school instead. He knew if he didn’t show up at the medical office he would be tracked down and given about a minute to choose between the punishment room and a trip to jail. He knew it was easier to walk to the medical office and let them humiliate him for an hour or so, and he knew he was going to do that, but he did one extra set of presses, both to delay the inevitable and because pressing the weights above his chest and feeling his muscles swell made him feel a little better about himself in light of the humiliation he was about to endure. But after that extra set was finished, Trey knew he couldn’t delay much more.

The first time Trey went for “the procedure” he had showered after his workout and put on a clean set of utilities; the standard uniform at the school was similar to the Marine Corps Combat Utility Uniform. But then again, that first time he had assumed they were just going to unlock his cock cage and let him go back to his room to jack off. This time he knew better: he was going to be stripped, restrained to a medical table, have his crotch shaved clean and then coated with electro gel, and have an electrical butt plug inserted that would force him to ejaculate.

Since he remembered how sweaty his body had gotten from the procedure last month, why should he bother to shower, put on clean utilities, and lace-up his combat boots, only to be ordered to strip when he got to the medical room anyway? Plus, he knew he would want to shower as soon as he got back to his room, to wash off both the sweat and the humiliation, so he decided to just stay in his PT uniform – gym shorts, t-shirt, and running shoes – and walk to the medical room that way.

Trey walked… slowly…. to the medical room, knocked on the door, heard “come in,” and entered. The medic and assistant coach were there, just like last time, and he looked at the medical table in the center of the room, with its chair-like back and the metal stirrups for his feet. He looked at the table with hatred: “Fuck that thing,” he thought.

Trey just stood there for a moment, looking at the cold metal stirrups on that damn exam table. The assistant coach looked at Trey hesitating, and said, “Come on. You know the drill.”

Trey did know the drill. He pulled off his t-shirt, used his feet to slip off his running shoes without having to bend over — he wasn’t wearing socks — and pulled down his shorts and jockstrap in one motion. The linoleum floor felt cold and sticky under his bare feet, which were still sweaty from his workout, and he put his shirt and shorts on the table near the door and kicked his shoes toward the wall. Trey walked over toward that awful medical table with its stirrups and he was about to climb onto the table when he heard the coach say, “Not so fast.”

Trey stopped, and the coach said, “Turn around. Hands behind your back.”

Trey thought, “What the fuck is this??” But he turned around and put his hands behind his back and felt the coach handcuff him.

“Spread your legs,” the medic said, and when Trey spread his bare feet wider on the linoleum floor the medic unlocked the cock cage and began removing Trey’s new growth of public hair; he started with a clipper and then applied shaving cream to Trey’s cock and balls. As much as Trey didn’t want to, he got hard when he felt the medic’s gloved hand rub shaving cream over his balls. But at least the hard-on made the shaving easier; with his cock standing up straight, it was out of the way as the medic’s disposable razor glided over the skin of his crotch and balls.

After the medic was done shaving he wiped away the remaining cream with a warm wet towel. The warm towel felt great and made Trey horny; he closed his eyes, imagining that maybe the medic would get on his knees and take his cock in his mouth and get him off that way, and he really, really wanted that to happen.

But instead he heard the assistant coach yell “HEY!” and opened his eyes.

The medic walked over to the exam table and laid it flat.

“Great,” Trey thought to himself… “they are going to strap me flat on my back. At least I had SOME dignity last time when I was sitting up.”

But Trey knew it was no use to say anything, and with the handcuffs restraining his hands behind his back he felt very vulnerable and even more obedient.

“Turn around,” the coach said, and when Trey obeyed the coach released the handcuffs. “Up on the table,” the coach said.

Trey climbed onto the table and started to lay on his back when he heard the coach say, “Not that way.”

Trey’s confusion lasted only a moment before the coach said, “On your hands and knees. Doggie style.”

“Oh, what the fuck,” Trey thought. But he did what he was told and was not surprised to feel a large mound of hard plastic foam slide under his chest to keep him in that doggie-style position, and then to feel straps being buckled on his wrists and ankles to restrain him to the table.

Once Trey was firmly restrained he heard the coach say to him in a lecturing voice, “You have been cocky as fuck this past month. I have seen it as you walk around. I have seen it as you stretch your muscles when you know other guys are watching. You think you are hot shit, don’t you?”

Trey guessed it was better not to say anything, especially in this vulnerable position.

“Maybe taking it from behind will change your attitude,” the coach said.

Trey felt the medic cover his balls and the base of his cock with the electrolytic gel, like last time, and lube his anus with it, and attach the electrode strap around his balls and cock. Trey took a deep breath, knowing the cold metal butt plug would come next, and sure enough he felt it violate his hole.

Trey closed his eyes and waited for the electric pulsing to begin. But instead he heard the medic and coach walk out of the room and shut the door behind them.

Trey waited a moment, and then a minute, then a few more minutes, and he thought, “Jeez, they are fucking with me.” As more minutes passed, with his naked body restrained doggie-style in the middle of the room, he knew there was nothing he could do but wait.

He heard the door open and all of a sudden, for the first time, he had a horrifying thought: maybe he had been left like that for OTHER people. And what were THEY going to do to him?

He tried to turn his head to see who had actually walked into the room but they were behind him and he couldn’t see them. He began to panic and shake and felt himself pulling at the restraints; he knew it was involuntary; knew he couldn’t get free but his wrists pulled at the restraints anyway, almost automatically, as he panicked more and more, wondering who was behind him and what they would do.

But then two men walked in front of him, into his field of vision, and Trey saw it was just the medic and assistant coach and breathed a sigh of relief. Which struck him as weird: He was relieved to see these guys? These guys who went out of their way to humiliate him last month? They guys who had just restrained him naked and doggie-style? And left him like that? Trey shook his head to clear out his mental cobwebs; his whole sense of perspective was fucked up, he realized.

Trey saw the medic pick on the small black box with knobs and knew what would happen next, and sure enough he felt a warm wave of electricity in his ass and cock, and then it began to pulse, and in just a moment Trey felt his cock shoot a huge load of sperm and he felt his whole body contract and shake as he shot another load, and then a third in quick succession – all part of the same orgasm, really — and then the electricity stopped.

Trey caught his breath. He felt the medic slowly pull out the butt plug and reach between his legs and unfasten the electrode strap. He couldn’t wait for the medic to re-attach the cock cage so this would all be over and he could go back to his room.

But he realized there was a problem: His cock was still mostly hard. Last month they had made him cum again and again until, after four orgasms – or was it five, or maybe six? — his cock had been soft and useless and the medic had no trouble sliding it back into the small plastic cage.

But this time there was no way his large and mostly hard cock could ever get back into the curved cylinder of the small cage. “We’ll give you a minute to calm down,” the medic said.

Trey tried to think of anything that was non-sexual. He just wanted to get soft so this would be over.

Trey felt relieved as his cock softened after a few minutes, and he realized that this month’s ordeal was about to come to an end. He heard the medic approach from behind and, as much as he hated the cock cage, he couldn’t wait for it to be reattached so he could be released from the restraints, get dressed, and go back to his room.

But the medic’s hand reached between Trey’s legs from behind and cupped his balls and played with them with his fingers, and then the medic give Trey’s cock a stroke as it started to get hard. It was a fucking reach-around, Trey thought. And his dick got rock hard again.

Trey shook his head. He knew the medic was totally straight and was not doing this for fun. The medic was fucking with him. “Jeez, this guy really is a douchebag,” Trey thought, as he felt the medic stroke his hard cock from behind. It felt great but Trey knew what was really happening. He would have punched the medic in the face and broken his nose if he could. But that was just a daydream. The reality was that he was restrained doggie-style with a hard cock that could never be inserted into a small cock cage.

“We’ll give you another minute,” the medic said, and walked away.

Somehow, after a while, Trey was able to feel his cock soften.  And then the medic did it to him again: He reached between Trey’s legs from behind and got him hard again.

“Fucker!” Trey thought.

“What,” the medic teased him, “Don’t you want to go back to your room?”

Trey wanted to say, “You know I do, you fucking asshole,” but decided it was not a good idea.

“Well? DO you want to go back to your room?” the medic asked.

“Yes, Sir” Trey replied. He thought that was the best response. And somehow it came naturally; being restrained in that position made him unusually submissive.

“Well, then,” the medic said, “I know one thing that will fix this problem. A bit of pain will take your mind off sex.”

Trey felt like screaming, “My mind isn’t ON sex, you asshole. If you stop playing with my balls and stroking my cock every few minutes we could get this over with.” But he closed his eyes and shook his head and realized where this was leading, and he realized this is probably what the asshole medic had in mind the whole time. So Trey just quietly said, “Yes, Sir.”

“Good,” the medic said. “I’m glad you agree.”

The assistant coach pulled a wide leather punishment strap from a cabinet… the same kind of strap that was demonstrated on all the students during their intake, to let them know what they wanted to avoid. The coach snapped it in the air, either to get it flexible and ready for use or just to intimidate Trey, or maybe both, and Trey could hear him take a position behind him.

Trey expected to hear the punishment strap whoosh through the air and to feel the sharp sting of its leather on his ass, but instead he heard the medic say, “This will just take a moment,” and he felt a cold stethoscope placed underneath him and against the skin of his chest near his heart.

“Oh jeez, what nonsense,” Trey thought. “They know what a jock I am, but they need to check my heart to see if I can take punishment? These guys aren’t for real.”

Trey felt the stethoscope move from one place to another on his chest, and then to his back. “Take a deep breath,” the medic said, and Trey obeyed.

Trey heard the medic say, “He’ll be fine,” and felt his body tense involuntarily, knowing that NOW he was going to feel the leather strap on his ass. And that is exactly what he felt… a hard searing heat that sent waves of pain through his entire body. Before he could catch his breath he felt another stroke. And then another. Trey’s whole body was on fire. The leather was hitting his ass but the pain was traveling though his chest and down his arms and through his legs. At the fourth stroke he let out a scream – he couldn’t stop himself – but he was immediately embarrassed and resolved to grit his teeth and keep quiet and show them what a tough stud he was. Trey kept silent as the leather contacted his ass again – sending that wave of heat and pain through his whole body. And then the strap hit him again. And then again. Trey had intended to count the strokes but his mind was scrambled and all he could do was tense his body and wait for the next stroke and feel the restraints binding him to the table as the strap smashed against his ass again, and then again, until Trey thought he might black out.

And then it stopped. Trey kept his teeth clenched together, thinking the coach was just fucking with him and that he would feel the pain sear through his body again, but after a moment he began to feel it was really over and he heard the coach say, “That’s it.”

Trey still thought he was being fucked with and he tightened his hands into fists to prepare for the next blow of pain, but after a moment he could tell the coach had returned the strap to its cabinet and he unclenched his fists and allowed himself to breathe.

For the first time since the punishment began Trey realized that his body was dripping with sweat. And he realized that his cock had shrunk completely. He felt a wave of relief when he felt the medic’s hands slide the head of his soft cock into the plastic cage and felt it click into its locked position. Within a moment the coach unbuckled the straps that held him against the table and removed the hard plastic foam that was under his chest, and he had to stop himself from almost crying with relief.

Surprisingly, the coach and the medic allowed him to lay flat on his stomach on the table and relax for quite a while. After a few minutes, the coach put a hand softly on Trey’s sweaty back and, with a gentleness of voice that shocked him, the coach asked, “Do you need any help getting up, son?”

Trey replied, “No, Sir” and stood up, trembling a bit, and still somewhat unsteady, but able to stand on his own.

“You can get dressed” the coach said gently. Trey walked unsteadily to the table where he had deposited his gym clothes and pulled on his jockstrap, and then his shorts. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and reached down to slide his running shoes over his sweat-covered feet.

Remembering the last time, Trey put his hands behind his back and waited for the coach to handcuff him.

But the coach just said, “Nah, that’s OK. Let’s get you back to your room.”

To be continued …