What a storm is for

"How long has he been like that?" I asked. S was showing me his new 24/7 slave. He stood in the middle of the garden, in his underwear, looking at the ground and enduring the summer storm that was pouring down as if it were the first time. I have never questioned his need to be a Master; he is my friend for many things and despite others. He knows it's not my thing, but there's no way in hell I question it morally or ethically. As long as it's consented to by the parties, it's fine by me.

"Since the storm started," S answered.

"Poor guy, he's soaked."

"Yeah, but it's summer, it's not cold, nothing will happen to him."

"Are you punishing him for something?"

"No, I'm training him to accept even what makes no sense to him."

"Without questioning?" S nodded.

"I want him to come to punishment docilely, and I'm going little by little. He's very afraid of the physical side, and he knows it's essential for me. I've told him I can't stand slaves who beg for mercy and scream excessively. I want submissive animals who obey while accepting their suffering. For now I'm humiliating him, breaking him down, until he himself is the one in charge of preparing the chains, ropes, and elements with which I'll punish him physically. I think he'll end up doing it. I see potential in him."

"Get him inside already, man! Tell him to serve us some beers."

"No, come on. Grab that umbrella and follow me."

S got some work gloves and put them on. We went out into the garden, and with his hands protected he pulled up a bunch of nettles. I followed him until we reached his slave, who kept his head down.

"Look, this is my new animal. He doesn't have a name yet; I might not even get around to giving him one, we'll see." He stretched the waistband of the underwear and through the opening he inserted the plants. Then, suddenly, he released the elastic, leaving the nettles trapped between the fabric and the submissive's cock. He took off the glove and began to rub his hand over his slave's package, who could barely contain convulsions of pain while my friend said to him, "Don't scream, don't fucking scream, slave. Endure it and show that you're worthy of me." Fuck, I was the one who started to convulse imagining what he must be feeling. "Now, animal, throw yourself face down on the ground. When it stops raining, take off your underwear, dry yourself off, and come inside to see if we need anything. Maybe my friend will want you to suck his cock."

The poor wretch lay down on the ground. I took a couple of steps and noticed that my friend wasn't following me. I turned and found him standing on the slave's ass, adding pressure between his genitals and the plants. He stepped down, took out his penis, and pissed on him. As if nothing had happened, he caught up with me and, taking me gently by the arm, led me toward the house. "So, how's the new job going? You haven't told me anything....