By AlphaMetal

Trey didn’t know what time it was, but he could tell many hours had passed. It must be getting close to 6:00 PM.

The door to the small room opened and two large men walked in. Both were tall, and both were big, like bodybuilders. They wore black t-shirts with the word “SECURITY,” black tactical pants, and black military boots, and one was holding steel leg shackles in his hand. The other released the restraint that chained Trey’s ankle to the floor, and he looked at Trey and said: “Strip down.”

Between the size of the guys – their chests were massive under their black t-shirts – and the fact that Trey had already resigned himself to what was going to happen, Trey unlaced and removed his boots, pulled off his socks, and began removing the rest of his uniform. In just a few moments he was naked. Except for his cock cage, of course.

Put your hands behind you back,” the man said. Trey obeyed, and the man handcuffed his wrists.

“Get on your knees,” one of the men said.

“Oh jeez,” Trey thought to himself. “Really? In addition to punishment, I am going to have to suck this guy off first???”

But Trey knew it made no sense to fight, or even to resist or hesitate, so he got down on his knees. He took a deep breath and mentally prepared himself to take the man’s cock in his mouth.

The man holding the leg shackles walked behind Trey, bent down, and attached the restraints to Trey’s ankles.

“Don’t worry,” the other security guy said, “it’s not quite time yet. We are just getting you ready.”

And then the two men left the room, leaving Trey feeling like an idiot; he had assumed he was going to have to suck their cocks, but they just wanted him in a non-threatening position before bending down to attach the leg shackles.

Trey knew he was no longer thinking clearly. Maybe he was more anxious about the punishment than he had admitted to himself.

Trey began to wonder what type of punishment he was going to receive. He knew there were two ways the school administered corporal punishment: flogging, or a leather strap against a bare ass. Trey had already felt the leather strap; it had been used on him during his “procedure” the second time his cock cage was released. Trey didn’t know which punishment was considered more severe, but after shoving a staff member he figured he would get whichever one was worse.

After a few minutes the door opened and the two security men entered. Trey stood up. He tried to project strength; he wanted his body language to say, “I am not afraid of you.”

One of the men walked behind him and gripped the chain connecting his handcuffs, twisting it and causing pain, and making Trey feel very much controlled. Trey flexed his arms and chest in response.

The man tried to push Trey forward, but Trey put one foot in front of the other – at least as far as the chain between his ankles would allow – and planted his bare feet solidly. Trey knew he was going to lose this battle; he knew he was going to wind up restrained to some punishment device anyway, but why not push back and feel at least a little masculine before it happened?

Trey’s feet stayed planted for a moment, but the bodybuilder was bigger and stronger – as Trey knew all along. The security man’s hand pressed Trey forward and broke his stance and made him move. The man pushed Trey toward the door and out of the room, and then Trey started walking on his own; he figured walking confidently toward his punishment — even naked and shackled — was another way to keep his dignity.

As soon as Trey entered the large punishment room he noticed two things. First, he noticed that the room was empty, except for the two security men who escorted him and two more standing by a wooden frame in the center of the room. Trey had assumed the room would be filled with students, lined up in rows to watch his punishment, but for some reason they had decided to spare him that humiliation. The other thing Trey noticed was that the large, sturdy, wooden punishment frame was set up to restrain Trey in a standing position; he could see leather restraints at the top and bottom of the frame, positioned to hold his arms and legs in a spread-eagle. “So it will be a flogging,” Trey thought, as he walked toward the frame.

Trey faced the frame, and his leg shackles were removed. With his hands still cuffed behind his back, his left ankle was strapped to a leather restraint at the bottom of the frame, and he spread his legs wide so his right ankle could be attached to the other side. By putting his right ankle in position to be restrained, without being told, he was showing them he was not afraid.

When Trey’s ankles were both firmly restrained the handcuffs were removed. Trey raised and spread his arms and put his wrists against the leather straps to the left and right above his head. One security man was at each restraint and they buckled the two closed at the same time.

Trey heard the boots of a man move into position behind Trey’s back, and he balled his fists tightly and waited for the flogger to hit his naked flesh.

In a moment Trey felt the first stroke. It was a hard stinging blow; the bodybuilder with the flogger was not holding back. Within seconds Trey felt another stroke, which was somehow even harder than the first.

The strokes came quickly; faster than he expected. Trey barely had time to catch his breath between blows and with each stroke the pain spread more widely throughout his body. After several of the quick, hard strokes the pain was longer confined to Trey’s back but flowed along his arms to where his wrists were restrained, and down his legs to the restraints on his ankles. And the pain was no longer just on his skin but entered deeper and deeper into his core. Trey tried to keep silent, but the strokes kept coming; his body was on fire and he could hear himself let out a grunt with each stroke.

As the strokes slashed his back, one after the other, Trey’s mind become hazy and gray. His grunts seemed involuntary, like they were being made by someone else, and even though Trey’s eyes were open he could no longer focus on anything in the room. All he sensed was pain, burning through his body. There was nothing else.

Trey realized he was no longer really standing; his legs had stopped supporting him and he was hanging from the wrist restraints.

Pain burned through him with each stroke. And then his mind went blank.

***

When Trey came back to consciousness, he realized the blows had stopped. He was hanging from the restraints above him, but as he regained awareness he put his weight back on his feet to support himself. His back was still burning, but at least the flogging had stopped.

Trey waited to be released, but he was glad they were taking their time; he wasn’t sure he would be able to walk, or even stand, and he was grateful the restraints were still supporting him. He worried what would happen when he was released; he didn’t want to slump to the floor and embarrass himself, but his legs felt weak. But as Trey’s normal breathing slowly returned, he began to feel he would be able to stand and walk.

And then Trey felt sharp a pain on his ass. He was confused for a moment, but with the second stroke of the leather strap he figured out what was happening. Another stroke hit his ass with full force, and he knew for sure: He was going to be strapped as well as flogged.

Trey’s ass took another blow, and the pain radiated through his body. Another stroke landed; it felt like the strap was going to split his ass cheeks in two. The strokes continued, one after another. Trey’s brain was overwhelmed; the pain got worse with each stroke; it filled his body until he felt it in his toes. Trey had no control over the pain; he had no control over the grunts that came out of his mouth with each stroke. Through his unfocused haze Trey realized he was crying, and he had no control over that either. He was sobbing; his body was trembling; he thought he was going to throw up. He felt another blow on his bare ass, and then another. The blows didn’t stop. Tears flowed down his cheeks.

Trey’s mind went gray and he blanked out.

***

When Trey came to for the second time he sensed nothing but pain in every part of his body, and silence. The room was dead quiet. In place of the whoosh of the flogger and strap, and his own grunts and sobs, there was now nothing but dead silence.

Trey realized he was alone. There was no-one else in the room. He had been left strapped to the punishment frame. Sweat dripped down his sides, pooled under his bare feet, and slid from his upper lip into his mouth where he could taste its salt.

Knowing he was alone, he let himself sob.

Trey had been reduced to nothing. He was not the cocky guy who cursed and shoved a staff member; he was not the muscular jock who strutted around the locker room naked. He was … nothing. He was hanging slack in the restraints of a punishment frame unable to stop himself from crying. Trey was worthless. He was nothing. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he heard himself sob and he knew he had been permanently changed.

To be continued …