Friday, 24 January 2014



The days dragged on, and Hockney dragged on through them; hot fits of conceit alternating in him with cold fits of despondency and mawkishness and discontent with everything and everybody, which were all the more intolerable due to their entire strangeness. Instead of seeing the bright side of all things, he seemed to be looking at creation through yellow spectacles, and saw faults and blemishes in all his acquaintances, which had been till now invisible.

But the more he was inclined to depreciate all other men, the more he felt there was one to whom he had been grossly unjust. And, as he recalled all that had passed, he began to do justice to the man who had not flinched from warning him and braving him, who he felt had been watching over him, and trying to guide him straight, when he had lost all power or will to keep straight himself.

From this time the dread increased on him lest any of the other men should find out his quarrel with Kitaj over his indiscretions with the barmaid Patty and his tutor Ceri Richards. Their utter ignorance of it encouraged him in the hope that it might all pass off like a bad dream. While it remained a matter between them alone, he felt that all might come straight, though he could not think how. He began to loiter by the entrance to Kitaj's house; sometimes he would find something to say to Kitaj's friends, and sometimes he would stand below Kitaj's window, glancing at it. There it was, wide open, generally--he hardly knew whether he hoped to catch a glimpse of the owner, but he did hope that Kitaj might hear his voice. He watched him at the Republican College of Art furtively, but constantly, and was always fancying what he was doing and thinking about. Was it as painful an effort to Kitaj, he wondered, as to him to go on speaking, as if nothing had happened, when they met at the college bar, as they did now again almost daily, and yet never to look one another in the face; to live together as usual during part of every day, and yet to feel all the time that a great wall had risen between them, more hopelessly dividing them for the time than thousands of miles of ocean or continent?

Amongst other distractions which Hockney tried at this crisis of his life, was non-stop painting. Hockney was still recovering from his last bondage session with his tutor Carel Weight – who’d heard Hockney wasn’t adverse to a whipping and had taken advantage of this knowledge. Hockney, like Weight, felt really horny every time he thought about this extended sex session. Hockney wanted to call on his tutor to thank him again for giving him a beating that had lasted twelve and a half long hours. But Hockney was busy painting in his studio and the days passed. About 10 days later, Hockney received as message from Weight, telling the apprentice painter to go to his house in the early evening. It was a Friday night. Hockney wondered what this instruction was all about. Was Weight still angry with Hockney because he’d had to be beaten into compete submission during their last session?

Hockney anxiously finished a painting and arrived at Weight’s home around 6PM. Weight greeted Hockney sternly and ordered the student into his bedroom. There he informed Hockney that he had thought about their last session and about how the younger man had disturbed him with repeated requests for permission to cum. Weight told Hockney that he had to punish him again for this bad behaviour. Hockney was standing by a high backed chair, still fully clothed. It would do the boy absolutely no good to argue with his tutor as he knew he would suffer more if he did. Weight ordered Hockeny to strip completely. The young man hesitated for just a moment until he saw the look in Weight’s eyes. Weight didn’t yell at Hockney, he remained silent which was worse, and the student knew he had better obey him.

Hockney was tired after a hard day's painting and he was getting hungry, and as he undressed there was about him a slight but palpable sense of unease. Weight ordered Hockney to sit in the chair and put his hands behind him. Hockney did as he was told and Weight secured Hockney’s wrists with a pair of steel handcuffs, adjusting them tightly until the student flinched. A thick leather penis gag was stuffed into Hockney's mouth, and strapped around the back of the student’s head. Weight adjusted it, then moved behind Hockney to tighten the buckle so that he gag was deep inside Hockeny’s gob. A leather collar quickly followed and was cinched tightly too. Then Weight roped Hockney’s ankles separately to the back legs of the chair, lifting his feet up off the floor by about 6 inches. Weight then chose a leather hood and put it over Hockney’s head. It had no mouth opening and as Weight laced it up tightly, he deliberately caught Hockney’s hair and made the boy yelp. Hockney offered a muffled apology for the noise he was making. A thick blindfold was wrapped over Hockney’s eyes and the collar around his neck was tied to the top of the chair so that the student could barely move.

Weight stood silently for a few moments as if thinking of what he would do next. Then Hockney heard the jingle of chains and he knew Weight had taken a pair of nipple clamps from his implement shelf. Hockney swore silently as he guessed his master was going to make the evening painful for him. Weight pinched both of Hockney’s nipples numerous times to make them hard before attaching the clamps, causing the student to jerk in his bonds. Hockney felt the hard smack of Weight’s belt on his inner thigh. Then Weight tightened the nipple clamps. Next came the dreaded CB3000 male chastity device, which Weight had difficulty getting on Hockney’s hard dick. Hockney was not prepared for this, since he hadn’t pissed before leaving the RCA. Hockney flinched as Weight roughly sanpped the cuff around his balls.

Hockney shifted around in the chair and received 2 more hard whacks from the belt. He cried out through the gag, and again felt the belt. The student took the pain silently this time. Weight handled Hockney’s cock roughly until the young painter lost his erection from a combination of pain and fright, at which point Weight applied some lube before putting the cage part on. Hockney heard the distinct click of a padlock and knew that he was done for.

Weight bent down and rubbed Hockney’s leg, saying in gentle voice that he had to go out for the evening and would be back in a few hours. Hockney shook his head, signaling to Weight that he didn't want to be left like this. Weight ignored the silent plea and whacked Hockney again, twice on each thigh. Then Weight snapped off the light and left the room. A few minutes later Hockney heard Weight’s front door open and slave was left alone, wondering how long his master would leave him bound, gagged and totally helpless. Hockney’s nipples started to hurt from the tightness of the nipple clamps, and his cock and balls ached from being bound too. As far as was possible, Hockney shifted around in his chair, hoping Weight would not be out too long. His wrists were already sore from being held by tightly adjusted handcuffs.

After 30 minutes Hockney drifted off into sleep. He woke suddenly and shifted on the chair, which sent a sharp wave of pain through his chest. Since he was still alone he yelped into his gag, biting down hard on it. Hockney’s entire body ached. The steel cuffs dug into his wrists and he wasn't able to move very much at all. His feet tingled as the rope around his ankles was also tight. His nipples were a study in agony thanks to the clamps Weight had attached to them, and his hood felt like it was planning on suffocating him slowly. Hockney’s dick was almost erect as he sat wondering why Weight had bound him so tightly.

Hockney was very hungry but he tried not to think about this. After so much time alone, Hockney was startled when he heard Weight’s front door open. Moments later Weight was standing in front of Hockney. The tutor gave Hockeny permission to speak, and the student moaned loudly as Weight hugged his bound body. Weight told his submissive that he had been tied up for 5 hours, it was now 11:30 PM. Weight explained that he had gone to a friend's house and left the key to the padlock for the CB3000 male chastity device in his friend's possession until.The painting tutor then released the nipple clamps. Hockney screamed into his gag, as blood began to flow back into his tortured paps. Weight hugged Hockney a second time and gently rubbed his still hooded head.

Weight told his charge that he wanted him to come back for an all day session in four weeks time. That meant Hockney would be locked into the CB3000 male chastity device for a month without the possibility of cumming. Hockney moaned at this news but Weight ignored his outburst. It had already been a few days since Hockney had last masturbated. Damn! Weight told Hockney he was doing this for the student’s own good, as he wanted to train him to go without cumming for longer periods of time.

Hockney was sore for the next few days, with marks on his wrists from the handcuffs. He wore long-sleeved shirts to hide the red marks. His nipples hurt too. Hockney had to get used to being in a chastity device again, unable to cum for a month. For three or four days running, Hockney really worked hard--very hard, if we were to reckon by the number of hours he spent in his studio over his easel, even though we should only reckon by the results. For, though scarcely an hour passed that he was not balancing on the hind legs of his stool with a vacant look in his eyes, and thinking of anything but colour or composition, yet on the whole he managed to get through a good deal, and one evening, for the first time since his quarrel with Kitaj, he felt a sensation of real comfort--it hardly amounted to pleasure--as he looked at the picture he’d just completed. He leaned back on his stool and sat for a few minutes, letting his thoughts follow their own bent. They soon took a wrong turn, and he jumped up in fear lest he should be drifting back into the black stormy sea, in the trough of which he had been labouring so lately, and which he felt he was by no means clear of yet.

At first he caught up his coat and hat as though he were going out. There was a wine party at one of his acquaintance's rooms; or he could go and smoke a cigar in the pool room, or at any one of a dozen other places. He'd even been invited to a circle jerk, but the CB3000 male chastity device meant that he couldn't participate in that! On second thoughts, he went over to the shelf of books in his studios. He had no particular object in selecting one book more than another, and so took down carelessly the first that came to hand. It happened to be a volume of Plato, and opened of its own accord at the "Apology." He glanced at a few lines. What a flood of memories they called up! This was almost the last book he had read at school; and teacher, and friends, and lofty oak-shelved library stood out before him at once. Then the blunders that he himself and others had made rushed through his mind, and he almost burst into a laugh as he wheeled his stool round to the window, and began reading where he had opened, encouraging every thought of the old times when he first read that marvellous defense. Hockney gave himself up to his thought; and how strangely that thought bore on the struggle which had been raging in him of late.

The studio stifled him now; so he threw on his jacket, and hurried out. He walked all the way to Kitaj's house, and there paused. Was he there by chance, or was he guided there? Yes, this was the right way for him, he had no doubt now as to that. How could he be sure that Kitaj was alone? And, if not, to go in would be worse than useless. If he were alone, what should he say? After all, must he go in there? Was there no way but that?

At that moment he heard Kitaj's door open and a voice saying "Good-night," and Grey stepped out into the street, and was passing close to him.

"Join yourself to him." The impulse came so strongly into Hockney's mind this time, that it was like a voice speaking him. He yielded to it, and, stepping to Grey's side, wished him good-evening. The other returned his salute in his shy way, and was hurrying on, but Hockney kept by him.

"Have you been reading with Kitaj?"


"How is he? I have not seen anything of him for some time."

"Oh, very well, I think," said Grey, glancing sideways at his questioner, and adding, after a moment, "I have wondered rather not to see you there of late."

"Are you going to your master?" said Hockney, breaking away from the subject.

"Yes, and I am rather late; I must make haste on; good night."

Feeling lonesome at being left like this, Hockney ran to Boshier's home, and was leaning out of the window at his side in another minute.

Having exchanged greetings, the next thing Boshier said to Hockney was: “There's such a queer old bird gone to your friend Kitaj's house."

The mention of Kitaj caused Hockney to listen eagerly as Boshier went on.

"It was about half an hour ago. I saw an old fellow go hobbling up to Kitaj’s room on two sticks, in a shady blue uniform coat and white trousers. The kind of old boy you read about in books, you know. Commodore Trunnion, or Uncle Toby, or one of that sort. Well, I watched him backing and filling, and trying one door and another; but there was nobody about. So I trotted up to him for fun, and to see what he was after. It was as good as a play, if you could have seen it. I was ass enough to take off my hat and make a low bow as I came up to him, and he pulled off his cap in return, and we stood there bowing to one another. He was a thorough old gentleman, and I felt rather foolish for fear that he should see that I expected a lark when I came out. But I don't think he had an idea of it, and only set my greeting to wonderful good manners. So we got quite thick, and I piloted him across to Kitaj's front door.

"He must be Kitaj's father," said Hockney.

"I shouldn't wonder. But is his father in the navy?"

"He is a retired captain."

"Then no doubt you're right. What shall we do? Have a hand at picquet. Some men will be here directly. Only for love."

Hockney declined the proffered game, and went off soon after to his own room, a happier man than he had been since his first night at "The Choughs." The month of abstinence passed quickly enough as Hockney kept himself busy with painting and out of trouble, since the CB3000 male chastity device meant that he had to turn down the many offers he received to participate in circle jerks. Hockney only called on his master to check in, as he had been ordered to do. Weight did ask Hockney how he was doing and the student told him he was alright. In fact, Hockney was forgetful, grumpy, tired and very very horny. But he didn't want to complain to Weight because he had learned his lesson, again.

Finally the day of Hockney’s bondage session with Weight arrived and the student was up at 5AM, taking a bath, done with breakfast and out the door by 6 AM, carrying his equipment bag which contained his favourite toy, a black leather straitjacket, among other items of bondage and restraint. Hockney arrived early, at 6:45 AM and woke Weight up. That in itself was a joy for Hockney, as he got to see a side of Weight that the  painting tutor only displayed upon waking. Weight’s hair was tousled, he was bare chested, his small nipples were erect, he was wearing skimpy underwear revealing the beautiful silhouette of his hard cock and balls. Weight was barefoot and smiling at Hockney mischievously.

Hockney’s cock started to twitch and harden within the confines of the CB3000 male chastity device. Hockney told Wieght how happy he was to spend the entire day under his control. Weight went to the washroom and instructed Hockney to make his bed, which the student enjoyed doing as it was still warm and he lingered a moment at his two favourite spots. They were located in the middle of the mattress where Weight's beautiful butt came into contact with the sheet and at the end of the bed where his bare feet lay.

Weight had prepared the chains at the head and foot of the bed the night before. When Weight came out of the bathroom he instructed Hockney to strip and show him the CB3000 male chastity device. Satisfied that all was in order he told Hockney to go take one last piss before putting on nappies. For reasons Hockney did not understand, Weight always used the American word for nappies which is diapers. When Hockney was finished Weight surprised him by lowering his nappies - he was wearing two to prevent leakage - and unlocked the CB3000 male chastity device. It felt so damn good to be free, and Hockney thanked Weight very much for the privilege of being bound without it for that day’s paly. Weight put a cock and ball harness on Hockney, snapping it snugly behind his balls.

After taking the straitjacket from Hockney’s bag, Weight motioned the sub toward him and ordered the student to put his arms into the sleeves. As usual, Hockeny hesitated for just a moment and looked at Weight. The tutor had changed into tight black leather underwear, revealing once again the outline of his beautiful cock and balls. Hockney inserted his arms into the sleeves of the straitjacket. Weight turned the twenty-something around and started to buckle all 4 straps at his back. Once he was done, Weight noticed that there was room to cinch it tighter and he undid all the buckles to tighten them by one or two holes on each of the straps. Then he pulled the crotch straps in between Hockney’s legs and buckled both straps tightly, trapping his cock and balls within his nappies. This was followed by fastening Hockney’s arms over the front of his body, taking the end of each sleeve and looping it through the belt loops located at the bottom of the straitjacket, just above the sub’s hips. Once Weight had buckled the straps, he pushed Hockney’s elbows in toward his stomach, then undid the buckle and strapped it tighter by three holes. This made Hockney’s arms very snug against his gut. Weight then took a four foot length of chain and wrapped it around Hockney’s arms and padlocked it, to reduce any arm movement.

Once Weight had put Hockney in the straitjacket he forced the boy to drink from a pint glass of water, to help him stay hydrated, at least for a while. Hockney didn't want to do this as he knew it would make him pee a lot, but he had no choice but to obey.

Weight admired his handiwork, then locked leather ankle cuffs on Hockney and put a spandex hood with built in blindfold over his head. It was very snug but easy to breathe through. Then came the leather collar which Weight buckled around Hockney’s neck, on the fourth hole out of five. This made the collar very tight, but Weight tested it to make sure the sub would be okay in it all day. Hockney’s heart was beating quickly, as he knew Weight would be placing him on his bed and chaining him to it for at least 12 hours.

Weight led the student close to his bed and helped him lie down on it. Once Hockney was in position, Weight quickly spread the boy's legs apart and buckled the D rings of his ankle cuffs to a chain with a padlock. The chain ran under the mattress from left to right and Hockney heard the distinct click of each padlock as it was snapped shut. No doubt Weight would make at least one further adjustment when the boy was completely bound to the bed. Weight gave Hockney a pillow for his head and for this kindness, the sub was very grateful. The tutor pulled the chain through the D rings on Hockney’s collar and fastened each side of it with a padlock.

Hockney was now bound to the bed, unable to move his arms, as they were also chained, as well as straitjacketed. His feet were bound in leather ankle cuffs locked to a fairly thick chain at the foot of the bed. Weight made a number of adjustments, all aimed at tightening the bondage equipment that constrained his slave, and thereby making Hockney more uncomfortable. Hockney groaned and remarked that he was bound very tightly. Weight lay beside the sub for a few minutes and told the slave he was still being kind to him, as he could have tightened the restraints even more.

Weight placed his hand over Hockney’s hood, covering his mouth and nose, so that it was difficult for the sub to breath. After about 15 seconds Hockney started writhing around trying to move his head and free himself for a breath of air. Weight let Hockney breathe once or twice then clamped his hand down over his face again. Hockney struggled and begged for air. Weight took his hand away and it was a great relief to the slave to be able to breathe. This was done to remind Hockney of the power Weight held over him. Then Weight started to slap Hockney’s balls through the nappies. Lightly at first, then with increasing strength until Hockney was moaning and struggling on the bed again. Weight stopped after a couple of minutes then clamped his hand down over Hockney’s mouth and nose. The student was exhausted from his struggles and the lack of air.

Finally Weight got off the bed, Hockney heard him walking over to his closet and the next thing he felt was a leather belt smacking hard against the bottoms of hi feet. Hockney yelped in pain, but Weight continued to hit each foot on alternative strokes. Then he moved upward to the subs legs and smacked them on the inside a number of times. Hockney wanted to protect his balls, another spot on Weight liked to punish him. Resistance was futile, Weight whacked Hockney’s balls a good few times with the belt, but not too harshly. Weight told his charge he had been good about being in chastity all month, and had accepted the tutor’s dominance over him without challenge.

Then Weight went off to the bathroom, leaving the door open so that Hockeny could hear the sounds of his tutor bathing. Eventually Weight came back into the bedroom. As he dressed he told Hockney he was leaving. Weight informed the young painter he had purposely bound him tighter for this session as he wanted Hockney to think of his master all day. Weight asked the kid if he was alright and the twenty-something replied he wasn't sure if he could withstand the tight restraints for the whole day. Weight checked his bound sub and refused to make any adjustment. He told Hockney he would just have to get used to being tightly bound, as he really wanted the boy to long for his return and the accompanying release from bondage. Weight made one final adjustment to Hockney’s pillow, checked all the padlocks, pocketed the keys and left.

Hockney was so completely bound, he had next to no maneuvering room on the bed. His arms were bound by the jacket sleeves to his back, and chained and padlocked as well. Hockney felt the padlocked collar around his neck restraining him with the chain running through all 4 D-rings and padlocked again on either side of the bed. The chain ran from under the mattress and doubled back, where Weight had added padlocks after tightening the chain so there would be no slack on either side of the sub’s neck. Hockney’s feet were similarly chained and padlocked through the D-Rings on his leather ankle cuffs. The student’s head was totally hooded in tight spandex, with the collar over the spandex material on his neck, ensuring that he could not possibly wiggle it upward.

Since Hockney had a cock and ball harness on, rather than a chastity belt, he was able to get a proper boner. As a matter of fact, the harness was now helping him with a raging hard-on. Hockney wondered if Weight did this as a reward for being bound so tightly all day, or if it was just by chance. The crotch straps of the straitjacket were tightly buckled behind him, up his butt. There was no way Hockney was going anywhere until Weight untied him. The young painter’s balls had no room to move at all. Hockney was really tired and wanted to sleep. After all, it was dark in Weight’s bedroom, and the boy was blindfolded. Sleeping would help pass the time of day.

Hockney fell asleep half hour after Weight left. He slept soundly for three hours. When Hockney awoke he had a stonking erection. It felt good to Hockney to be able to achieve a proper boner, after his manhood had been locked up in a CB3000 male chastity device for a month and he'd had to turn down dozens of invitations to participate in circle jerks. Hockney wondered whether he would be able to bring himself to orgasm, and slowly started bucking his hips up and down, in as far as he was able to do this in his bonds. His cock rubbed against the inside of his nappy and it felt great, but he soon stopped. He was worried that if he continued, he would eventually cum, but this would be an orgasm without permission from Weight. He would be punished severely for that!

Still, Hockney’s need to cum started to overwhelm him and he decided to give it a try. He would worry about the consequences later. Once more he bucked his hips up and down, slowly at first then gradually picking up his pace. Hockney’s dick was hard as a rock and he revelled in it. 23 minutes and 19 seconds later, Hockney felt that he was getting very close to cumming. He longed to stroke his extension but that was impossible. The next thing he knew cum exploded from his plonker and he screamed into his hood. Hockney bucked and writhed around on the bed as much as he could, and he didn't stop until every last bit of cum had spurted from his length. Luckily for Hockney, it did not leak out of the nappy. Now he was wet and sticky, but he didn't care. He was also going to get into a lot of trouble if and when Weight found out. Hockney thought maybe he could hide the fact that he had cum from his tutor. But he was fooling himself, as he knew Weight would figure it out. Hockney lay panting and still, his muscles were sore. Eventually he drifted back to sleep. When he awoke an hour later he felt the need to take a piss, but he didn't want to further wet his nappy. He knew he had shot a big load of jism after not cumming for a month.

Hockney lay bound and helpless thinking about his master, grateful to Weight for allowing him the pleasure of being bound to his bed for the day. But Hockney was also annoyed with Weight for tying him up so tightly. Hockney’s stomach felt empty, and his bladder felt full. His ankles hurt from the tightness of the leather cuffs and the chains he was bound to. Hockney tried moving his head to change its position on the pillow, but that was impossible. He felt his neck was starting to chafe from the collar as he tried to move his bonce from side to side. Eventually he gave up and just lay quietly.

Hockney realized he really had to piss. But he didn't want to wet himself yet. About an hour later he couldn’t hold his urine in any longer, and he peed into the nappy. He started slowly at first, almost hesitantly, feeling ashamed that he was wetting himself. The next thing he knew he was peeing full stream into the nappy and he felt it getting sopping wet. He pissed himself for a solid minute. By the time he stopped his nappies were really soaked and he was really glad he was wearing two extra abosorbent ones, with a centre lining of a third that Weight had cut out and placed inside the other two. The tutor obviously wanted to ensure his bed linen wasn’t ruined! Even when Hockney followed up his pissing by taking a dump, the nappies he was wearing were able to contain the mess inside them.

The afternoon passed slowly and Hockney’s shoulders ached from his arms being in the same position for so long. Hockney was cold from laying on the bed with a thick plastic sheet under him. Weight had not covered his slave before he left.

Hockney was in agony but none the less his love muscle started to throb again. He tried to ignore this hard-on, but he was lusting for sexual release and relishing his tight bondage, even if it was causing him physical pain. Hockney loved the position he found himself in and wanted the rest of the day to pass slowly, so he could enjoy the discomfort. When he realized that his manhood was still rock hard, he knew he had to have another orgasm. But he also knew that he was treading on dangerous ground, because Weight had not given him permission to cum. Hockney started to buck his hips again, rubbing his pork sword against his wet and soiled nappies, feeling his balls tightly trapped between his legs by the crotch straps of his straitjacket as well as the cock and ball harness snapped over them. He rubbed and rubbed and thrashed around as much as he could and felt himself getting closer to the point of no return.

Hockney worked himself up to a feverish pitch and then let loose with a scream as he discharged another load of semen into his soiled nappies. He shot spurt after spurt until he was empty and exhausted again. Now his leg muscles hurt from keeping the limbs rigid while trying to get the momentum going to achieve a second climax.

The room started to darken as the day came to its natural close. Hockney’s stomach was empty and he was getting hunger pangs. His mouth was dry and parched. He drifted off to sleep again and awoke with a start as the door downstairs opened and closed. Hockney’s heart was racing and he braced myself for trouble. Weight went straight to the bedroom and stood silently looking at his prisoner. Hockney did not speak, as Weight had not greeted him or given him permission to talk. Finally Weight greeted Hockney warmly and ran his hands over the students legs and leather covered chest. He checked all the padlocks and chains to see if Hockney was still securely bound. The sub remained still and silent.

Weight was gentle with Hockney and rubbed his crotch before telling the boy that the soiled nappies smelt really sexy. The painting tutor lowered the nappies and started to pump Hockney’s love stick. To Hockney’s surprise he was erect again. The student started to moan and move around on the bed and Weight smacked his shit smeared balls in response. Hockney tried to keep silent but the pain in his balls made him whimper and Weight hit him again. Clearly, Weight did not want his slave to make any noise. He continued to pump Hockney slowly then he picked up the tempo until the sub shot a third load of liquid genetics. That was when Weight noticed that something was wrong. For someone who hadn't cum in a month Hockney didn't have much jism and Weight clocked this right away. He told the young painter to nod his head yes or no as to whether he had managed to cum while tied up. Hockney hesitated and Weight prodded him by squeezing his turd encrusted balls. Finally the slave nodded yes and Weight chuckled before turning serious.

He asked Hockney how many times he had managed to cum. Weight said "once" and the sub did not move. He said "twice" and the student nodded his head yes. Again he chuckled and said he was proud of Hockney’s determination and endurance. But then he told the boy that he would have to be punished taking pleasures without permission. Hockney apologized to Weight and said he would accept his punishment.

Weight unlocked the padlocks and chains around Hockney’s collar and the student thought he was being released. Instead, Weight unbuckled the collar and lifted Hockney’s spandex hood up to the boy’s nose. He then forced a leather penis gag into Hockney’s mouth and buckled it tightly around the back of his head. The hood and collar were cinched back in place even tighter than before, buckled to the last hole with the padlocks and chains done up again after this. Hockney groaned and tried to move, and for this was whacked with Weight’s belt on the inside of his thighs. When Hockney yelped, Weight struck him and again the boy yelped. Weight continued delivering hard strokes to Hockney’s inner thighs with his belt. Hockney bit down on the penis gag and remained silent while Weight gave him a beating.

Finally Weight stopped and cleaned Hockney's bottom and balls, removing both the soiled nappies and the cock and ball harness. Next Hockney felt his master reapply the cuff of the CB3000 male chastity device. The student'a blood sausage hurt from cumming so much and Weight was handling it really roughly, forcing it inside the cage of the CB3000 male chastity device. When Hockney heard the padlock click shut he wanted to yell but he had to remain silent or risk being beaten again.

Weight bent down and whispered to Hockney that he was going back out and didn't know what time he would be home that night. The art student shook his head signalling to Weight that he didn't want to be left alone again. The painting tutor simply ignored this silent plea. He told Hockney he had been tied up for 11 hours already. Then Weight put on a single new nappy, and made sure to cinch Hockney’s crotch straps tighter than before as well. He smacked the post-graduate student’s balls a few times and Hockney moaned once only, absorbing most of the pain silently. Weight checked the boy’s feet making sure the chains hadn't come loose. He moved the padlocks on each ankle by a couple of chain links to make them tighter, then left.

Hockney had given in to a moment's pleasure, now he was paying the price. He was really fed up with being bound and it had become worse because all the restrains were tighter and the CB3000 male chastity device was back on him. Hockney struggled and hs cock got semi-hard within the confines of the CB3000 male chastity device. His pork sword felt very sensitive and his bollocks ached. He settled down, tried to ignore his hunger and drifted off to sleep again.

Hockney slept for 3 hours. The house was quiet and dark. When he awoke, the sub shuffled weakly on the bed, hoping Weight would be home soon toy release him from his bondage. What a bondage pig Hockney had become!

Hockney’s arms and shoulders really hurt, and his ankles tingled from being bound so tightly for so many hours. The post-graduate art student may have been suffering but he was in a rebellious mood, he had been all day long. he realized that now, He had known he would be punished for cumming without permission, and still he proceeded to give himself not one but two orgasms. He had worked hard for them and he had paid for them too, no doubt he would pay even more but Hockney had wanted to show Weight that he still had a mind of my own!

Eventually Hockney heard heavy footsteps. Weight was home. He went first into the kitchen, then the toilet. He took his time going to the bedroom where Hockney was chained up. What followed next can best be described as a beating. Weight whacked the bottoms of Hockney’s bare feet with his belt again. He received ten whacks on each foot. Then Weight hit Hockney’s inner thighs in exactly the same place as he had before. The slave grunted and bit down hard on his penis gag and thrashed around on the bed. Still Weight continued, and finally, Hockney was broken and the tears started welling from under his hood. Weight could hear Hockney breathing hard and weeping softly through his gag. He put down the belt and smacked the boy’s coilons (that's old English for balls) hard 5 times. Hockney was shaking, but still felt defiant. When Weight realized this he stopped beating his sub and lay down beside him stroking his face through the hood.

After Hockney calmed down, Weight unlocked the padlocks and chains. He helped Hockney to his feet but the boy stumbled. Weight sat the slave back down on the bed and held him for a moment or two. He was still gagged. Weight told Hockney he had to think of further punishment for his foolish behaviour, but that could wait. For now it was enough that he would have bruises on his inner legs and that he would no doubt be sore as hell tomorrow.

He still had made no move to release Hockney from the straitjacket or the gag strapped tightly into his mouth. Instead Weight told Hockney to lay back and rest. Eventually Hockney was told to stand up and this time he was able to do so unassisted. Weight hugged Hockney tightly then undid the straps to his straitjacket and removed his gag. Weight told Hockney he was proud of him for his defiance.

Hockney was extremely tired, sore and once again he had pissed into his nappy. Hockney thanked Weight for a great sex session and the painting tutor smiled at him. It was a smile that made Hockney’s suffering worthwhile. Hockney left Weight’s house and walked home thinking about his day. The post-graduate art student bathed before having a late night bite to eat. He wasn't that hungry anymore. He just wanted to sleep and rest.


  1. The CB3000 should be in every serious artist's toolbox!

    1. Alongside a tube of KY, an anal training kit, a pair of handcuffs and a bottle of Bell's - ring-a-ding!