The American Way -- Correction and Conversion
`Peter Foster's Correction and Conversion'
By Randall Austin
Short Story
This story is erotic fiction meant for mature readers and should only be read by adults over the age of eighteen years old. Please do not use my stories without my permission and please forward all comments to randallaustin2011@hotmail.com
Randall Austin's Archive Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Randall_Austin_Stories
There is probably no other job title in the business of social services that carries such a wide range of job descriptions as does the category of: Overseer', Monitor', or `Docent'.
In the South an overseer is often an entry-level position with little authority, simply meant to provide a physical presence and show of force for trainers, who have full authority over servants.
In the North an overseer is not only a position requiring a degree, but often an advanced degree in some specialized field in either the business end of servitude or in the handling and control of servants.
At San Francisco's prestigious Sherman, Lawson, and Stingle Imports, a docent is not only a high-end position, but it is one of the most important elements in Sherman, Lawson, and Stingle's philosophy of servant training. The idea behind the well dressed, highly educated, docent is to make those in servitorship training bond and feel closely connected to the docents; so they get to a point where they feel they could say to the docents, `Hey buddy, you and I, we're alike. You and I would probably be best friends by now if it weren't for my indenturement. I was just like you: well educated, used to dress and groom myself just like you, was a (clubbing) stud'. Because Sherman, Lawson, and Stingle Imports deals only in young, fit, educated, and attractive males, reinforcing the connection between trainee and docent is especially important because it has the effect of making trainees want more than anything to please those whom it believes are its peers.
And that is why servant-in-training Peter Foster was pleased when docent Brett Halston approached him and asked him to accompany him to the elevator, "Some important people want to see you."
Peter Foster was a newly hired classics teaching assistant at an exclusive private high school in Berkeley when he was criminally indentured at the age of 24 for lascivious behavior. He was entertaining some students on a field trip, when fueled by a few beers, he playfully demonstrated to some of his male students the proper way to kiss a girl. He used one of his female students for the demonstration. The fun went a little too far, and Peter's demonstration also included some basic tit fondling procedures. The girl's parents and the state made a big deal out of it. The judge was sympathetic to Peter's situation, but his hands were legally tied in sentencing, and Peter was given the choice of either seven years imprisonment or five years indenturement. Peter chose indenturement, and at auction Sherman, Lawson, and Stingle Imports snapped him up. Peter was, to them, an example of ideal servitor material: intelligent, educated, attentive, neat, handsome, and youthful looking but with a sober and serious demeanor.
Peter was somewhat unsure of what was going on, and was slightly concerned because the usually friendly Brett seemed in a no-nonsense mood. When Brett pushed the elevator button for the 55th floor, Peter was surprised. The servant training and housing facilities occupied the first 30 floors above ground level, and the three first floors below ground level of the prestigious skyscraper. This was the first time Peter had ever been any higher in the building than the 11th floor.
When the door opened, Peter was taken aback at the luxuriousness of the office decor. And when he was led to a door that had the name `Byron Lawson' emblazoned in gold, he was nervous. It was Byron Lawson of Sherman, Lawson, and Stingle Imports; one of the owners of the company.
Brett knocked on the door, and the door was opened by another docent, Ian Matthews, dressed in exactly the same sharp shirt, tie, slacks, jacket, and shoes, as Brett. And both docents had their hair heavily gelled and styled in a similar fashion. Peter and Brett entered the room, and Brett led Peter to stand in front of Byron Lawson, seated at a large desk. Seated opposite him were John Powers, managing director of the company, and Bill Levertson, marketing director.
Peter recognized Bill Levertson. He was the man who interviewed and bought him for the company. Bill nodded at Peter and called out a friendly "Hello, Peter."
Peter nodded, "Hello sir, Mr. Levertson."
In the few weeks since full-time nudity for servants in training was enforced, Peter had gotten used to being nude around trainers, docents, and a few members of the administrative staff. But now he felt his nudity all over again, to an extreme degree. Everyone in the room was so well dressed, and the three directors expensively so, that Peter felt more embarrassed than ever before. He held his hands clasped in front of his dick, so recently pierced by a large 4-inch diameter, thick gauge, servant `humbling' ring. Being the only naked slave in front of a roomful of neatly dressed gentlemen only highlighted his discomfort and humiliation at not only being nude, but also being servant-ringed all over his body. Suddenly he felt not only terribly nude and rawly exposed, but also like a freak; an animal ringed all over so he could be controlled and tethered into performing in anyway his masters requested.
Peter blushed as he realized that his ear, nipple, nose, and navel, rings were glinting in the sunlight coming in through the office tower's huge glass windows. The rings were calling attention to themselves and to Peter's controlled status. The sunlight highlighting the rings on his body only made him look more servile than ever. He was a naked, ringed, beast of burden in front of these well-dressed free men.
He felt a sudden surge of anger mixed with shame that they had turned him into a ringed animal, and he reacted by pulling his clasped hands closer to his body to hide even more his male sex. His confused, uncontrolled emotions, quickly abated when Byron Lawson, noticing his unease, spoke; "You don't seem too comfortable, Mr. Foster, with your nudity. You obviously feel you have something to hide."
Peter didn't know what to say. He only shook his head in the affirmative. Mr. Lawson continued, "Tell me, Peter, are you uncomfortable or unhappy with your situation?"
Peter spoke quietly, "Yes, sir. I mean, I don't know, sir."
Mr. Lawson looked at Peter's hands clasped in front of him, "Well, we certainly want to help you get used to your status as servitor. After all, it's one of the most important parts of training, isn't it? If you aren't comfortable with servitorship, then you are not going to be a very pleasant servant to be around. We want to help you get over any of your inhibitions. So go ahead and drop your hands to your sides."
Peter swallowed and did as commanded.
Peter was now not only embarrassed at being naked and ringed in front of a room full of clothed men, but he was profoundly humiliated that his cock ring, a heavy thing, tugged down his penis. It was meant to, of course; that is why it is weighted and called a `humbling ring'. The humbling ring is intended to constantly remind servants of their abject status as it tugs down their penises. It helps to not let them forget that they are meant to serve.
Mr. Lawson asked, "How old are you Peter?"
"I'm 24, sir."
"Tell me Peter, have you been in the habit of lying all of your life?"
Peter winced, "Sir?"
Mr. Lawson pulled three letters out of a folder on his desk, pointed at them, and spoke, "Peter, as a result of a letter you wrote to a friend of yours, Vincent Coburn, telling him that he couldn't visit you while in training because Sherman, Lawson, and Stingle Imports doesn't allow servants in training to have visitors, I have received three letters from people complaining about our policy, as well as a query from the state's attorney general."
"I, of course, have responded to all of these complaints, informing them that we, in fact, have a liberal visitation policy; and that you simply told your friend a lie, for some reason. Tell me Peter, why did you lie to your friend?"
Sweat formed on Peter's face. He felt like an errant, bumbling, slave being interrogated in some former darker age. He felt like crying. Peter mumbled, "Sir, Mr. Lawson. Sir. I told Vincent that so he wouldn't visit me, sir, because I'm too embarrassed to have my friends see me nude and ringed like this. I'm sorry sir."
Mr. Lawson didn't have much sympathy for Peter, "It was a lie, and it was extremely selfish behavior. It was a lie that could have hurt the reputation of this company and all who work here." Mr. Lawson again pointed to the letters, "If these good people hadn't written me concerned about the servants in training here, you could have done some serious damage."
Peter felt like a loser, "I know, sir. I'm sorry sir."
Mr. Lawson questioned, "Do you know what the consequence of telling a serious lie is for a servant? Do you know what `guidance procedure' we are required by state law to administer?"
"No sir."
"An old fashioned whipping." Mr. Lawson stuffed the letters back into the folder. "I'm sorry we have to do this. The docents' report on you up until this incident was very good. You've been an ace obeyer up until now. You've never had to receive any discipline so far, not so much as a brief paddling or a mouth washing. Now, unfortunately we have no choice but to give you one of the most serious corrective measures in the training arsenal. So I'm sorry to have to say that your first punishment here in training at Sherman, Lawson, and Stingle Imports will be a very memorable one."
Peter's throat constricted. This couldn't be happening. Peter had to say something to stop such a punishment. Without thinking he pleaded, "Please sir. I'm a high school classics teacher. You can't do this to me."
Mr. Lawson did not like Peter's elitist tone, "Do you think that just because you're a teaching assistant at some high school, that you have a right to lie? It's okay for you to tell damaging lies, but not okay for a servant who was a truck driver before he was indentured?"
"I didn't mean it that way, sir. I didn't mean to harm anyone, sir. I know I did wrong. Please don't hurt me, sir."
Bill Levertson hadn't seen severe punishment meted out in quite some time, and had forgotten how entertaining it can be to watch an about-to-be whipped servant plead.
Mr. Lawson spoke, "I appreciate the fact that you are a scholar. That's why we bought you. That and the fact that you're a very good looking young man. I bet a lot of your students of both sexes had big crushes on you."
Mr. Lawson paused to tug his ear and run his hand through the hair on the side of his head, "As a classics scholar you probably have high standards. So does Sherman, Lawson, and Stingle Imports. You, however, are not yet up to our standards, and that is why we have to do this to you."
Peter sounded as if he would start crying, "Please sirs. Let me talk to my mom and dad. Please. You can't do this to me!"
Mr. Lawson stood from his chair, and walked around his desk and stood next to Peter. He grasped Peter gently by the nape of the neck, almost as if he were handling a little lamb, and spoke, "Of course we can do this to you, and we will. We paid the state of Montana almost $200 thousand dollars for you. Bill here has set your market price at a bit over $400 thousand. Now no one is going to buy you if they sense that you can't be trusted. And frankly we can't trust you after what you've done. You need to be taught a lesson that reaches your soul. And the only way we know to reach a guy's soul in a short amount of time and effect a change that is lasting and sincere is through the whip. Sorry, but it's got to be this way." As Mr. Lawson gently fingered the hairs on the back of Peter's head, Peter again pleaded, "Oh sir, please, no. I see now that what I did was very wrong. Please, don't hurt me. I'll be good. I promise."
No one paid any attention to Peter's pleading. Mr. Powers took his hand away from Peter's head and spoke to the docents, "Get him ready, boys."
So quickly and unexpectedly did Ian and Brett each grab one of Peter's arms, that Peter didn't realize where they were leading him or what they were doing until they were each cuffing one of his arms to the sidebars of the room's whipping frame. When Peter realized he was going to get whipped here and now, he cried out, "Oh god, no! Please sirs, I'll be good! I promise. I'll never be any more trouble!"
As Bill Levertson stood up, he got on his cell phone, called the facilities department, and asked them to send a custodian up to Mr. Lawson's suite. He then joined the other two directors standing to the side of the whipping frame.
As Ian checked to make sure the cuffs holding Peter to the whipping frame were secure, Peter pleaded again, "Please sirs, don't do this."
Satisfied that the cuffs were secure, Ian pulled three bells out of his jacket pocket, each about three inches long, and began clipping one to each of Peter's nipple rings, and one to his large cock ring. Ian smiled as he clipped the penis bell on, "There! Now we'll have a little music with each stroke of the whip."
The three directors smiled and laughed. Mr. Powers called out, "Clever!"
Once Ian had Peter secured and belled, he reached a hand down to Peter's balls and gave them a sudden and very hard squeeze. Peter let out a full-force howling scream. It is something no servant trussed up ready to receive a whipping ever expects. The pained and surprised reaction of the servant is something docents find priceless, and Brett and Ian smiled broadly. The pre-whipping ball squeeze is a Sherman, Lawson, and Stingle, tradition. Bill Levertson complimented Ian, "That was a good one, Ian!"
Ian thanked Mr. Levertson, and Brett slapped Peter hard on the shoulder, "Stand up tall! Take this like a man! Come on, boy! Stand tall for your whipping!"
The trussed, freshly squeezed, servant let out a pitiable moan of fear. Ian rubbed his lips together as he handed Brett a stock whip, "I think this one is a little longer than the training whip you usually use. You may want to take a few practice swings first."
Brett thanked Ian, and turned to face the wall to do some test swings of the whip.
The three directors looked over the trussed and ringed nude body of Peter Foster. He was moaning and sobbing, but the intense pain from the ball squeezing had the effect of taking Peter's mind off of the soon-to-commence whipping. The three directors were all very pleased with what they saw; not only was Peter Foster sure to bring in his projected sale amount, but seeing him ringed all over his body confirmed for them that they had made the right decision as company directors to go with ringing and fulltime nudity for their servants.
There is an undeniable satisfaction, for free men, in seeing servants nude and fully body-ringed, thus making their status as servitors to free men clear and obvious. And no modification on a servant is more satisfying for free men to behold than a heavy humbler' ring, such as the one that now tugged down Peter Foster's penis. It made clear the fact that he was a servant, and nothing but a servant. And the lamb bell hanging from the humbler ring highlighted Peter's servile beast of burden' aspect.
As Brett took some practice swings, Toby Watson, a 20-year old, pimply-faced, custodian, entered the room with his cleanup gear, and silently nodded to Mr. Levertson. Custodians are needed at severe punishment sessions because servants can lose control at both ends under the duress of the whip. Many of the custodians who work at Sherman, Lawson, and Stingle Imports consider it a perk of the job that they get to be present and up-close at severe punishment sessions.
Toby always hated the way he sweated especially heavily during whippings because sweat aggravated his acne condition. But acne was a price he was willing to pay in order to enjoy the spectacle of a servant being taught its lessons through a good whipping.
Brett, finished with his practice strokes, took his position in back of the lying servant, "Thanks Ian. I think I've got the hang of this whip!"
Ian nodded and put a thumb up, "Go for it, dude!"
Brett swung the whip with force, but standing too close to the servant, it caused the whip to curl forward and snag Peter's mid-belly. Peter squealed violently, causing everyone in the room to jump in surprise."
Brett quickly apologized, "Oops. Sorry about that."
As Brett backed away to improve his distance, Ian wanted to help dispel any embarrassment Brett might be feeling, "That's okay buddy. It was pretty good for a first attempt." When the second blow sliced Peter squarely across the back in proper fashion and caused the slave to buck and scream in a more normal way, Ian confirmed Brett's success, "You've got it now! Way to go!"
The so-called `stock' whip used in servant training is not akin to the traditional leather stock whip. Stock whips used in human services training are simply longer versions of the training whip, and are made of state of the art polymers designed not to abrade the skin under normal use. But the sting they deliver is considered to be even more fierce than the old-fashioned leather version.
Peter, lost in intense pain, still had thoughts. Just a couple of months ago he was an accomplished, and productive, member of the community. He was looked up to in a way that was unusual for one so young, and he had a bright career ahead of him. Now he was nothing more than a naked and ringed slave, getting whip trained just like circus animals were a 100 years ago.
Brett always enjoyed punishment sessions, especially whippings. And if a servant was scheduled to receive a whipping, he was always pleased when he found out that he was the one assigned to do the actual whipping. But he did find whippings strenuous, and it usually took him about 10 minutes in the men's room to freshen himself up properly after wielding the whip.
One of Brett's proudest accomplishments was when he received his State `Level A' Corrections License, which authorized him to administer all gradations of physical punishment. He knew his dad was very proud of him, and he always wished his dad could be present to watch him whip a slave, but non-licensed personnel are forbidden from attending Level A discipline sessions by state law.
With each blow of the whip the bells attached to Peter's tits and cock rang out loudly, bringing smiles to the faces of the spectators. And with each blow of the whip Peter violently twisted and thrust out his pelvis in an attempt to escape the lash. It only made his cock shake all the more wildly, causing his bells to make quite a ding.
After the 14th blow of the whip, Peter felt like he had to pee. He looked down at his penis and saw that it was sticking straight up.
Ian enjoyed punishment sessions too and always wished he could shoot some video of a whipping session so he could show his friends what whippings were really like. But that too was forbidden by both state and company policy.
The pain coursing its way through Peter's body made him face the fact that obedience was now going to be an important part of his new life. Each stroke of the whip seemed to beg him to be obedient. Eventually, a stroke of the whip that hit both of his upper legs at the same time caused him to scream out his new commitment to obedience, "I'll be good. I'll never misbehave again! Please stop! No more!"
But Brett, an accomplished docent, and therefore also a highly trained disciplinarian, knew that Peter had not yet had enough of the whip, and continued his skillful work on the high school classics teacher's assistant back.
It was especially interesting to the two older gentlemen present, Byron Lawson and John Powers, to note how Peter's penis, now fully erect, could still hoist the quite heavy humbling ring and its attached bell, even given his relatively young age. John wondered to himself if his own penis could still hoist such a weight.
The erotic element present in a discipline session is something that civilized countries try to minimize. In many servant training centers throughout the United States, overseers have no qualms about sprouting erections during punishment sessions, and, indeed, are often proud of them. But Sherman, Lawson, and Stingle Imports is a high-class venue, and it neither encourages nor fosters such traditions. But nevertheless, the pricks of the observers in the room, as well as the two docents, were healthily firmed up in response to the full spectacle of a severe whipping. The sight of a handsome servant bucking, crying, and screaming, as he gets needed whip training always sends blood to the loins of any healthy male.
Only Toby Watson sprouted a fully fledged erection, and his attempts to conceal his erection by shifting his stance is one of the things that caused him to get so nervous and sweat so much during punishment sessions. Mr. Powers noted Toby's erection and nervousness with amusement, and he didn't really care; Toby was a just a janitor after all.
On the 22nd stroke of the whip Peter let out a continual high pitched wail. Brett knew that the continuous wail of the whipped is a sign that they are reaching their limit. Because the modern polymer whip does not severely abrade the skin, there is a tendency for some disciplinarians to overdue a punishment session. Brett had determined beforehand that of the 21 to 26 strokes of the whip mandated for telling serious lies, Peter should be able to take all 26. But after the 22nd stroke, Brett paused longer between each stroke in order to give the servant time to recover his senses and thus be able to bear and savor the full reforming benefit of the final strokes of the lash.
When the 26th stroke was delivered, the roomful of spectators was silent, as they listened to the moaning and sobbing of Peter, and watched him writhe in agony on the frame for some time.
Ian approached Peter from the front, gently fingered his purple-headed erection, as a necessary part of a servant's homosexualization, and spoke in a soothing voice, "Don't be ashamed of this, Peter. Everyone who gets more than a few strokes of the stock whip gets hard. It's nature's way of trying to offer you comfort."
Once Ian had given Peter's dick a few gentle tugs, he undid the bell hanging from the penis ring and put it back in his jacket pocket. As he started removing Peter's tit bells his face was close to Peter's face, and he whispered, "You'll be all right."
Peter was indeed soothed by Ian's apparently concerned demeanor after the whipping, as much as he was confused by Ian's manipulation of his erection.
Toby Watson took his leave, happy with the whipping session. It was a good show that would provide him with plenty of jackoff material in the days ahead, and there was no shit or piss to clean up.
Brett placed on a small table, to the side of the whipping frame, a foot square poster board and a signboard marking pen. Ian led the sniffling servant to the table, took a piece of paper out of his pocket with some text on it, placed it on the table, and instructed Peter. "You are to copy in your own hand, in large letters, the text on this sheet of paper onto the poster board, and then sign and date it."
Peter found the copying exercise demeaning, but he was now in that state which all freshly whipped slaves find themselves in; eager to do any and everything they're told immediately.
Ian took a camera and instructed Peter to stand and face him, holding the card just below his nipples, "I want your ringed nipples showing in the photo." Ian looked into the viewer, "Now move further back just a tad, I also want to make sure we get your humbler ring in the photo."
Peter posed as instructed, holding the sign in front of him, My name is Peter Foster, and I am in the servitorship training program with Sherman, Lawson, and Stingle Imports. I have just been disciplined for telling a serious lie that could have harmed the reputation of Sherman, Lawson, and Stingle Imports. My punishment was justified, and I am grateful to Sherman, Lawson, and Stingle Imports for my correction'. The card was dated November 16, 2011, and signed Peter Foster'.
Ian snapped four photos of the red-faced, teary eyed, servant. Once the photos were taken Peter felt crushed. He was curious what the photos were for, but was afraid to ask. And he wondered; how would he ever again, once released from servitude, be able to lead a normal, respectable, life, knowing that somewhere there were such photos of him?
As Brett and Ian were about to lead Peter out of the office, Mr. Powers addressed the servant, "Mr. Foster. You have just received your first physical discipline in training. Let's hope you won't have to receive any more discipline while you're here, at least with the whip. But be warned; there is an ill-informed mindset that some servants get into after their first taste of punishment in training. They think that if they can just behave in training and avoid punishment, then once they're sold they can behave in any old way they like."
"Let me tell you why that would be very dangerous thinking, and why you need to cultivate a mindset dedicated to obedience for your full term of service. When we sell you, you come with a guarantee that we offer to your buyer. But we can only guarantee our servants up to a point; and we do not and cannot cover any losses your owner feels they are owed due to poor performance on your part if the owner is not committed to a program of strict discipline. We only cover losses or replace product if your owner abides by the agreement to follow a course of strict discipline, and keeps a signed record of any and all of your corrections in a discipline book, in which he dates and signs each entry."
"You stand warned, Mr. Foster. When we sell you, you come with not only our guarantee, but also a starter package for your owner. And that starter package includes a discipline book, the same kind of stock whip that was just used on you, as well as an assortment of paddles, hobbles, and punishment mouthwashes. And owners know that if they do not use the proper punishment on you when a guidance procedure is mandated by corrections protocol, then we cannot guarantee your performance. So don't think you can start slacking in the behavior department once you're sold!"
Ian grabbed Peter's chin, "Did you hear what Mr. Foster said?"
Peter sniffled, "Yes sir. Thank you sir."
With Ian holding Peter by the left upper arm, and Brett holding Peter by the right arm, the two docents led Peter to the elevator. Peter could not look into the faces of the docents. He noticed that Brett pushed the elevator button for sub level 2. Peter did not know what was on that level. But he felt certain that nothing he would ever face in the future could be more humiliating than what he had just been subjected to.
But once the elevator arrived at sub level 2, and Brett and Ian led him to a door that said `Post-Correction Treadmills - Authorized Personnel Only', and opened it, he knew that he was wrong. What he saw was a nightmare.
It was a roomful of 150 treadmills, looking somewhat like typical exercise bicycles. On 65 of the treadmills were male servants, naked and ringed, all walking at a brisk pace to keep up with the automated tread. Their arms were cuffed to handlebars, and rods in front of them and in back of them kept them centered on the treadmill, and a heavy belt about their waist kept them on the treadmill. Coming from the ceiling and going up into the rectums of each servant was a tube which provided them with an anal nutrition drip as they trotted.
Scattered about the room were eight docents serving as overseers.
Ian and Brett led the stunned Peter to one of the treadmills, secured his arms to the handlebars, and locked him into position on the tread by means of a heavy belt about his waist. Ian pulled down a nutrition drip tube that came from the ceiling, and spoke as he eased the lubed tube high up into Peter's ass. "You will be running on this treadmill until you make a heartfelt confession of your wrongdoing; make a sincere plea of your need for continued guidance and correction; and make an absolute and total commitment to a term of obedient service. You will be on this treadmill for as long as it takes."
"Until you make your confession and accept your new status in life, you will be given no other food to eat except for this nutrition drip that feeds you internally. It makes no difference to us how long it takes you to accept your status as total servitor. Keeping you on the treadmill isn't just to help you to make a resolve towards a commitment of total obedience; continual jogging is also needed to maintain proper peristalsis so your body can absorb the nutrients coming from the drip tube."
"Once you admit your failing, confess your need for continual guidance, make a sincere promise to never again misbehave, and commit your life to obedience, you will be forgiven."
Brett turned on the treadmill and Peter had no choice but to jog in place like all the other servants locked in their treadmills.
Ian watched Peter adjust his jogging stance to keep up with the tread, and continued, "The treadmill runs continuously. Every 27 minutes there is a three-minute rest break. If you have not made a sincere confession by 3 AM tomorrow morning, we will then lock you down for a three-hour nap, and you shall be returned to this treadmill at 6AM. This is your own doing. You can choose this treadmill, or you can choose a life that is committed to the total joy of serving others."
Brett stood close to the jogging Peter, and touched him on the shoulder, "Please, Peter, search your innermost being, and try to get to a point where you can confess your failing, take a vow of strict obedience, and ask forgiveness. Once you do that, we will then forgive you and you will be redeemed, and we will then have nothing but praise and admiration for you."
Peter was uncertain of what was going on, of what exactly they wanted of him. What did they mean `ask forgiveness'? What were they doing? Why such language? He felt lost in another world, for sure, and he wondered if he was really experiencing what was going on. Was everyone suddenly nuts?
No sooner had Peter wondered what was going on, when he got his first hint of an answer. A servant on a treadmill not far removed from him; a handsome, tall, black-haired, boy with wide-set, doe-like, eyes; suddenly broke down weeping and cried out. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please forgive me for talking so disrespectfully to a docent. I realize now how awful that was. Please help me. I want to change my life, start behaving, and be of service. Please help me."
The boy continued to mutter and sputter promises even as the docents came and turned off his treadmill, started to touch him soothingly all over, and tell him what a good servant he was.
Like religious fundamentalists at a healing service, weeping and sobbing that they've been sinners and need to be healed, and willing to make total fools out of themselves in order to accept the comfort that superstition offers, so the handsome black-haired servant wept out his commitment to obedience.
Peter saw the plan. The treadmills were used to break servants in the training program into happily accepting their servant status. The goal of the treadmill was to tear down any and all resistance. Peter was determined; he would never make such an ass of himself as the black haired servant had just done.
Ian and Brett stood next to each other and watched Peter jogging on the treadmill. They liked securing naughty boys to the treadmill and watching them cope with their inescapable lot. In Peter Foster's case, they especially liked what they saw. Peter was aware of them staring at him, but he was too humiliated to look them in the face. The two docents watched Peter weeping and jogging for several minutes. Just before they took their leave, Ian and Brett exchanged smiles. Peter did not notice their shared smiles, nor did Peter notice Ian and Brett as they each tugged at their trousers in order to free their erections before returning to their offices.
Almost exactly 37 hours after being placed on the treadmill, Peter Foster was converted. He broke down and tearfully made a heartfelt confession of his lying; stated in earnest terms his need for continual guidance and correction, made a commitment to total obedience, and asked all the docents in the room to forgive him.
As soon as Peter broke down, the docents in the room called Peter's trainers, Ian and Brett, and they arrived in the treadmill room within minutes, happy that their boy had finally made a commitment to total obedience.
When Peter was released from the treadmill, he fell to the floor in a heap, crying out his shame at his past behavior.
Docents Ian Matthews and Brett Halston, assuring Peter that he had been redeemed, gently touched Peter's naked, ringed, body. Ian rubbed Peter's crotch and fondled his sex, as a part of the homosexualization process, and Brett fingered circles about Peter's ringed nipples. Peter Foster accepted the feelings of pleasure that came with the docents' touch as being a part of healing forgiveness. Ian and Brett appeared now to Peter as comforting saviors who could show him the way to a life of happiness in service. He loved them.
Brett patted Peter on the head, "There's no need to cry any more, little fella. Everything's going to be okay!"
Like a little child crying after a spanking, Peter did not stop crying, but kept offering tear-filled promises to never again be naughty.
It always filled Ian and Brett with immense professional pride every time one of their trainees was converted. They loved seeing men turned into servants.
Peter's eyes were now filled with tears of joy instead of sorrow as Brett and Ian each took one of his arms and helped him up from the floor. They offered him continual praise as they escorted him to his reward. Peter sobbed, "I just want to be a good servant." Ian rubbed his back as they guided him, "You will be, Peter. You will be!"
Docents know full well the value of the reward system, and they use it. They took Peter to a spa on the 18th floor, and Brett told the bath attendants, `groomers' in the employ of Sherman, Lawson, and Stingle Imports, to give Peter the royal treatment, "Here's a boy who is going to be an ace of a servant. Let him soak in the Jacuzzi for as long as he wants. Then give him a full rub down, oil and scent him, and put a garland in his hair."
As the white coated and smiling groomers guided Peter to the hot tub, Peter was proud, at last, of the giant humbler ring tugging down his penis. And when Peter noted that the two gay boy groomers couldn't take their eyes off of his still somewhat engorged pierced dick, `from Ian's fondling', he ever so slightly, thrust out his hips to proudly show off his ringed tackle.
It was indeed a provocative sight, and one of the gay boy groomers couldn't resist reaching out touching the handsome servant boy's prick as he eased Peter into the hot tub. Peter loved the attention the groomers were paying to him. Finally Peter was at peace, knowing that groomer boys and, indeed, boys everywhere, would be envious and desirous of him with his servant dick pierced by the giant humbler ring, and would probably be wishing that they could be ringed in just the same way as he was.
It was a happy day all around at Sherman, Lawson, and Stingle Imports. Peter Foster had been successfully corrected and converted.
The End
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