The Puppy Ranch Commune part 2 -- basic training

Author: spartan
Title: The Puppy Ranch Commune, part 2 -- basic training
Date: 30 July 2011

When the bus finally reached its destination I was aching all over. I couldn’t wait to get released, but one by one, each of the marchers was given their pants and boots and helped back into them as they were released. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, I and two other “recruits” were released from our seats, our collar chains were detached from the back of our collars and re-attached to the front, and we were pulled by our collar chains off the bus, still hooded and with our hands cuffed behind us.

We were taken to a medical room where we were given a more thorough medical exam. My clothes were either removed or cut off, as the cuffs were still kept on. It seemed strange to be given an exam and not be able to move my arms or hands. The other gear was removed only for the exam of that part, and then put back on. Before our gags were removed, we were instructed to say nothing lest we be severely punished. Considering the way we were treated normally, I’d hate to think what severe punishment would consist of. As soon as his gag was removed one of the other recruits pleaded to have his cuffs removed since his shoulders were killing him. A guy over in the corner out of our sight said that for that outburst he would stay in them until the next morning, longer if he talked any more. That quieted him, although he started crying.

After the medical was done, we were pulled by our collar chains naked to get some food. Only the three of us were eating, and another person had to feed us, since our hands were useless. I’d never eaten a meal with another person feeding me since I was an infant. The food portion was meager, but nourishing and tasty. It satisfied my stomach for the time being.

After we were finished eating, our gags were strapped back on, but not our hoods, and, still naked and cuffed, we were taken to a room which included a guy dressed in one of those leather uniforms, but with a riding crop and wide-brimmed hat. Our ankles were connected to the floor and our collar chains were connected to the ceiling, so that we were standing up straight, our heads stretched as high up as they could go, facing to the front. As the leather guy began talking, I recognized his voice as the one in the corner of the medical exam room.

“Boys, I’m your drill instructor for the next year’s basic training. I’m your worst nightmare. It is my job to turn you three pieces of shit into three professional bondage slaves ready to serve whatever a client wants. In doing so, the first task is to make you into three physical hunks, since that is what our clients prefer. You don’t look the part now, but in a year you will. It won’t be enjoyable, it won’t be fun, but you have no choice.

Since you are now part of the commune, you are no longer a person. You no longer have a name. You now each have a number. Yours are 112, 113 and 114, respectively (as he said this he pointed to each of us, and being the last, I was 114). You no longer have the right to question anything. You no longer are allowed to have opinions, or to think. Your job is to just obey, and to enjoy doing it. Everything we all do here now is to help further the goals of this commune.

If your shoulders hurt, tough shit. If your stomach is empty and needs food, tough shit. If you don’t like drinking piss, tough shit. If you need to jack off, tough shit. If you want out, tough shit -- it’s too late for that. You’ve signed up for this, your new life. What you want doesn’t matter. Your only reason for living now is to make our paying clients happy, and my job is to train you to become someone that can satisfy their every whim. When you think of all the possibilities that men want from a slave, that’s a lot of training. It’s why it will take a year. Until you finish your basic training you aren’t man enough to wear one of these leather uniforms. But in the meantime, we need to get rid of your hair and issue you some other clothing, so those are the next two stops. Follow me.”

With that, our ankles were released, we were released from the overhead connection, and pulled by our collar chains to a barber. We were sat down in three barber chairs and strapped in. Our posture collars and gags were removed, and a barber began removing the hair on our heads. After this was done, our posture collars with connecting chains and gags were re-attached, we were stood in specific places, our ankles were again secured to the floor, and the collar chain was attached to the ceiling. This time the barber proceeded to shave the rest of our bodies, including the hair around our cocks. I’d never had that area bare since I was an infant.

When that was completed, our ankles were again released, we were again released from the overhead connection, and pulled by our collar chains to a clothing room. There we were first fitted into a chastity device and then measured for clothes, the posture collar again being removed. I heard the tailor tell the drill sergeant that my neck size was 16, and that they only had sizes 18 and 15 1/2 in stock. The drill sergeant just got a big smile and said to issue me the 15 1/2 so that I could get an early start to what was in store for me.

The basic piece of clothing we were issued was a rubber cat suit with attached hood that had openings for eyes, nose and mouth. The other one was a combination locking iron collar and wrist cuffs attached by short chains to the collar. The drill instructor said that from now on we were to always wear the rubber cat suit, except for cleanings, and starting with tomorrow morning usually with the iron collar-cuff combination on top of it, though this would be taken off for our exercises. Our gags would be locked on and would only come off for meals and cleanings. The collar would be positioned for the cuffs to be in the front during the day so we could do our chores, but would be turned around for our wrists to be locked behind us when we slept at night. In the mornings we would be let out of everything for cleaning both us and the cat suit, as well as emptying out. It was our responsibility to keep the cat suit clean and in good condition, and any problems to it would be dealt with harsh punishment. After cleaning we would put the cat suit on again for morning exercises.

We had our darby cuffs removed to be able to try on our cat suits. Afterwards with the cat suit on, the darby cuffs were re-applied on the guy serving the punishment, but the other guy and I had our iron collar-cuff combination put on with our wrists behind us. We were all taken to our sleeping quarters.

Our sleeping quarters were interesting. We were locked into a rectangular cage about 6 1/2 feet long. The bottom floor had a thin vinyl covering and slid out. After finishing a day‘s activities, our iron collar-cuff combinations would be unlocked and repositioned the other way, we would lay down on the vinyl with our heads to the back, our collar was locked to the back of the floor and our ankles to the front, and, after we exhaled and moved our feet sideways, the vinyl covered floor was slid back in and the cage door closed and locked.

There was a narrow indentation at the top to allow my nose to slide in. Otherwise, the top of the cage would push slightly into my chest and upright feet, so there was no room to turn over if my collar and ankles weren’t locked. My wrists in the cuffs had to be kept in the small of the back. Before going in I was able to glance down and see that the others were kept in the same type of cages, not just the recruits but the regular members as well. These were definitely Spartan sleeping quarters, obviously designed to toughen one and keep him tough.

The day’s routine was, after morning cleaning and emptying, exercises followed by the morning feeding, followed by showing us our chores. The regulars do not have to do any upkeep of the place; that is the sole responsibility of the new recruits. We are each to be assigned tasks to do regularly, and we will be punished if we don’t do them properly. Our D.I. told us with a big smile that we want to avoid punishments at all costs. After our morning assigned tasks, there will be more exercising before the noon meal. This will be followed by more assigned tasks, more exercises, and the evening meal. The evening meal will be followed by explanations and viewing of various sexual requirements we are to master, followed by more exercises and sleep. A part of the exercises was running, but unlike the armed forces which would normally schedule this for the coolest part of the day, ours were scheduled for the hottest part of the day while in the black rubber cat suit and iron collar and cuffs.

Needless to say, all those exercises in the rubber cat suit, combined with nutritious meals and no fattening drinks, soon started having their effect. As we would become comfortable after a few days with doing a set of exercises, they would be increased in intensity to push us further. We were beginning to turn into those physical hunks the D.I. told us we were to become.

Initially it was harder on the other two than it was for me, since they weren’t in as good a physical shape to start with as I was, and I progressed to the next level quicker. But they soon were able to start keeping up and progressing as quickly as I did. Soon my problem was that the weight lifting and the neck strengthening exercises were expanding my neck size so that it constantly hurt with the extra tight metal collar on. But I knew better than to complain. The D.I. could see, and I noticed he was just waiting for me to complain so he could punish me. The regimen was very demanding on all three of us. So at night, despite having my hands cuffed behind me, being in a sweaty rubber cat suit, and having a constantly aching neck from a tight collar choking me, I had no trouble falling asleep.

After six months of this, the regimen changed. We were now pretty buff physically, and were able to do much more strenuous exercises than at the beginning. But now, the exercises were cut back to an expanded session of intense exercises after cleaning and emptying, and a set focused on strengthening our necks which was later in the day. As the D.I. explained, our neck is the weakest part of us, so we need to strengthen it. Like the other exercises, these were strengthened in intensity as we became comfortable with them. One of the exercises was for us to be strapped to a table with our heads and necks over the end and a weight attached to the back strap of our gag which we had to hold straight for a half-hour, thus putting strain on our neck muscles. I was able to support more weight with my neck muscles than the other two guys combined, and eventually was able to support more than my body weight.

The extra time that had been devoted to exercises was replaced with sex-while-in-bondage training. Plus our gags were removed during the day. This was both a good thing and a bad, as it allowed us the opportunity to get ourselves into trouble.

Number 112, the guy who initially complained about his shoulder hurting, complained one day when we were having alligator clamps put on our tits. The D.I. just got a big smile on his face, and told the other two of us to continue having the clamps on while he took care of a little problem. With that he walked out of the room with 112. After awhile the D.I. was back without 112, and we continued without him for the rest of the day. Nor was he put into his sleeping cage that night. When 112 rejoined us the next morning he had a far off look in his eyes like he wasn’t there mentally. In the previous months 112 had become surprisingly tough. To see him like this was a shock. For the rest of that day he did what he was told to do without complaining, but you could see that his mind was elsewhere. I wondered what had been done to him, and I sure didn’t want to have it done to me.

But it, or something even worse, was. As would inevitably be expected, the extra tight iron collar made a tear in the rubber cat suit. The D.I. noticed, and roared at me that I had been warned to keep up the suit, that I would be harshly punished if it got damaged, and now it was. I couldn’t complain that it was due to the overly tight collar, so I just stood there and said nothing. The D.I., of course, knew that this was going to eventually happen, and was waiting for it. It gave him a good excuse to indulge in his sadistic pleasure of inflicting severe punishment. He just got a big smile, told the other two to wait, and led me off.

I was led into another room. He told me not to fight him or the punishment would be worse. Then he put my penis gag into my mouth and strapped it on extra tight. He unlocked my wrists from the iron collar-cuff combination and pulled my wrists behind me, placing hands palm-to-palm, and started screwing some cuffs on the wrists. These were even more severe than the darby cuffs. I later learned that they are called chatlet cuffs. As he screwed them further and further my elbows were forced closer and closer to avoid hurting my wrists until my elbows almost touched.

This done, the D.I. had me bend over and inserted a long, segmented metal butt plug with wires attached. It reached up until it was resting on my prostate. I tried getting hard, but couldn’t with the ever present chastity device on. When the plug was finally all the way in, which took a bit of doing, he straightened me up and removed the chastity device. I immediately got a raging hard-on. He measured how long it was, and got some smallish metal cock rings with internal spikes which he proceeded to lock on, starting at the base and one above the previous, for the entire length of my hard-on. I definitely could feel each of the spikes as the ring would be closed and locked. The last one also had a chain which was pulled out taut so the weight of the metal didn’t pull my cock down.

He chained my collar to the ceiling, pulling it up so that I was on tiptoes. He added tit clamps with attached wires. Then he turned on an electro-device which sent shocks into my butt plug and tits. This hit my prostate and tits, got me harder, which made the spikes cut deeper into my cock. I was noticing some yelling, and realized it was me doing it. Soon I ejaculated, which made the spikes cut in more. I looked over at the D.I. and he was laughing at my predicament. That was excruciatingly painful, and this sucker was enjoying it! He said that he would be back later that night to increase the pain, and left the room. I was already getting hard again.

I had to endure hours of this before the D.I.’s return. Blood was oozing out of my dick as the metal would cut into it. My shoulders were aching something terrible from the chatlet cuffs which were on my wrists. And I was being choked by my extra-tight collar keeping me up on tip toes. I didn’t think it would be possible for me to endure such torture for even a couple of minutes, but I had to do so for hours. And he was coming back to increase it. I knew from 112’s experience that this would continue until the next morning. I didn’t know how I could get through it.

When the D.I. returned he looked at me for awhile with a big smile. Then he got some metal ankle cuffs each with an attached ring and locked them on each ankle. He loosened the taut line on my cock, lowered me down and pulled my legs up behind my back. I was resting on my knees. With one hand he grabbed both ankle rings and with the other grabbed the ring next to my wrist cuffs and started pulling them together. He finally got them close enough to put a padlock through all three rings, putting me into a severe hogtie. Then he put another chain on the back of my collar and pulled my head back forcefully as far as it would go and attached this chain tightly to the same ring. I was now facing up to the ceiling, and was having trouble breathing what with the collar now being on extra tight. He raised me back up to where my knees were just touching the floor, and he pulled the line taut again which was attached to my cock. All this time the shocks were continuing, and he now upped their intensity. I couldn’t see him, but I’m sure he had a big smile on his face as he saw how much more pain I was now in. As he left the room he said, “Good night. Sleep tight.”

That was easily the most awful night I’d ever spent. Nothing could have been worse than that. I don’t know how I made it through and maintained my sanity. It’s amazing what a human being can endure and survive. I knew that it didn’t matter much to the commune whether I survived it or not, that I was just a number, not a person, with no one else in the world who cared about me. I also figured that this was part of their training, that whatever I was put through as part of serving their clients could not possibly be worse than this, that if I survived this then I would be able to survive anything. So I was determined to make it through to show them that I belonged here, that I could take it. That determination had to be what allowed me to make it to the morning while maintaining my sanity.

When the D.I. came in to release me, he looked me in the eye with respect. As he was taking me out of the restraints he’d placed me in, he explained that for years the commune had been looking for someone who had exceptional physical and mental toughness to satisfy a particular client. He said that I’d demonstrated the physical toughness, but that he needed to test my mental toughness, that what he’d put me through would either show them I had that mental toughness or it would break me. He was obviously pleased that I’d survived.

After being released, after cleaning and morning exercises, the first stop was the clothing department to get a new rubber cat suit to replace the old torn one. And this time I was given the larger iron collar-cuff combination.

The sexual training was easy after that severe punishment experience. We were taught how to satisfy anyone who wanted sexual gratification in whatever way he wanted it. There were a number of rooms set up with various gear to satisfy a variety of requests. We were told that there were others there to satisfy the needs for tops, that if they ever ran short of them, then one of the others would be trained to fill this need. And most of the clients who came to this facility just wanted their cocks sucked, or to suck ours, so that there was a less call for bondage as well. But there was a shortage of slaves willing to have intense bondage inflicted on them, that those who did so soon burned out from it. So we were being trained to serve this need. I should have been alerted to the fact that we were numbers 112 to 114, though there were only about 50 guys here, and that there was a shortage of slaves willing to accept intense bondage from their clients. But my job was to do what the commune wanted, so I didn’t think this through as far as I should have. Not that it would have done me any good. Besides, as the D.I. had told us at the beginning, we were not to think, only to obey.

After the year was up, we were ready. At least, we and the commune thought we were. The new bigger collar was again too tight on me. We’d become the three physical hunks the D.I. said we would become. It was time to be fitted for our leather uniforms and to start servicing the clients.

(to be continued)

Note -- after the glowing comments left by readers at the end of part 1, I was worried that it wouldn’t be possible to satisfy the lofty expectations. Hopefully you readers won’t be too disappointed with this effort.