Training Collar

There’s no way Callum was going to wear the training collar. They’d seen the videos, boyfriends and even just random people attempting the “training collar challenge” and finding themselves doing progressively more and more humiliating things while voices off camera laughed and jeered. When Aron had surprised them and asked them to try it on, the shock of the request gave Callum the power to resist. No, they weren’t going to touch it and they weren’t going to do whatever Aron wanted. Yes, of course they normally did whatever Aron wanted but that was different! That was by choice!

By choice they had moved in with Aron, even though he lived quite a bit out of the city. By choice they nightly kissed and worshipped Aron while they received moans, groans, and “good boys”. And so it was by choice that they were, for Aron’s convenience, biking to the only pharmacist in 30 kilometres to collect something he said he needed for his lab. Callum was rightly curious, what couldn’t he just order from research sites or amazon that needed to be collected at the local pharmacy? And why couldn’t he just drive to pick it up when he was done with work? As long as it wasn’t anything too devious; Aron was getting a reputation in Callum’s mind for tricks which were always hot right up until they became frustrating.

Sweaty and appreciating the workout, Callum arrived at the medical centre in the closest village on the city outskirts. Inside and outside, the modernity of the building was heightened by the rural and rusting nature of the rest of the village. Out of place, as if it had one day decided to migrate from downtown. The pharmacy was behind a frosted glass door granting customers far more privacy than normally required. There were very few over the counter options, but with everyone 3D printing generics the market for brands was nearing its death.

Mr. Miller, the pharmacist, a well built 50 year old man with a salt and pepper moustache, was giving advice to a couple Callum recognized. Daniel was handed a package while his boyfriend Jaden stood somewhat strangely attentively at his side. Normally every time they had seen the two Jaden would invariably be looking down to his phone. Now, no phone in sight, and Jaden looking as if the next word from Daniel’s lips was the revelation of God. Weird.

Briefly greeting the couple as they left, Callum approached the pharmacist and was surprised as the man caught their eye, immediately strode towards them and thrust a piece of leather and metal material into Callum’s hand.

“Sorry Callum, I have to take care of a call. Can you hold this and not lose it please?”

Callum barely heard the pharmacist’s apology as a rush of butterflies entered their stomach. They felt a nervous energy start to suffuse them as Mr. Miller retreated into his office and shut the door. Callum was now standing in the middle of an empty waiting room feeling a tingling sensation flowing from the band into their arms and up it seemed right behind their eyes. Looking down at what they were holding, recognition dawned at once – this was a training collar. The very thing they had been clear to avoid was right there and, and… and it felt good? Emanations of something, some positive feeling, a rush and a feeling like the one they experienced when they first met Aron – a sort of intimidated awe. The feeling seemed to flow cyclically, from their tummy up to their head and then back down along their spine. It wasn’t quite arousing, just so pleasant and distracting and Callum was starting to feel unfocused and —

“Well?”

Mr. Miller was in front of them again, with only him knowing how much time had passed. Callum was still feeling unfocused but now acutely embarrassed at having not paid attention to anything that had been said and stammered back an apology.

“Sorry, I…”

Mr. Miller went to take back the collar but instinctively Callum recoiled. They didn’t want to give up the cycle of feeling so good they told themselves but that didn’t seem very convincing, did it? Callum was confused but almost as soon as they had stopped speaking the feeling muscled its way into the front of their mind and their focus split into a thousand pieces.

“I guess I didn’t realise it was still active. Let’s go into my office,” and Mr. Miller took them by the arm and in a daze Callum followed.

“There’s still something I need to deal with, but feel free to just make yourself at home,” and Mr. Miller was gone again.

Slowly, Callum brought the collar up to their face basking in the increase in intensity that seemed to centre on their neck. Callum held it tighter, not knowing what they were doing but just following the compulsions layered into the sensation. It felt so good to just feel the collar against their skin, and they found that the more they toyed, experimented, caressed and felt the collar the more aroused they would be. They were again lost, drifting and floating as they kissed the collar — as they felt the sudden rapid appearances of arousal that didn’t originate inside their bodies but rather invaded right towards their defenceless brain. Callum felt caught, trapped. The feelings were dizzying, and just wouldn’t stop, they needed more, they needed —

“—Well I didn’t think you’d like it that much!” 

Mr. Miller’s unexpected but rather predictable appearance prompted a blast of mortification through Callum’s body. They froze. It was so humiliating to have been caught like this, acting so lewdly in public no matter if it was in a private office. But then, as the embarrassment crested it wrapped around the waves of heat that came from the collar. The twin emotions of arousal and humiliation coiled around each other, and suddenly nothing could turn Callum on more than that they had been found out as a slut.

“If you like it so much I’m sure you won’t mind trying it on properly,” Mr. Miller was right beside them, taking the collar from Callum’s frozen fingers, tracing the metal edge against all sides of Callum’s neck, then latch.

Snap.

Shut.

This was different! This was much much better!

A pleasant feeling seemed to encompass their body, filling them with a rush of hormones, a sense of infatuation and lust. Directionless now, but oh how easy it would be to direct.

“It doesn’t work on everybody, but it does work on more than just those craving the type of submission it impels. You would have to have a practised will and just looking at those glazed eyes tells me the collar found a perfect match.”

“No,” started Callum, “I…,” their body was adjusting now, creating an equilibrium that the energy was feeling more natural and inside of them; an occupying, not invading force.

“You’re feeling it,” continued Mr. Miller evidently unimpressed with Callum’s token resistance. “but this is nothing compared to what the collar is made to do. This is just ‘on’, calibration mode. This isn’t training mode…”

“No! … I mean … no,” Callum was ever so partially snapping out of their trance, “No, no I don’t want to be trained. No. I’m not an animal,” but the tone was less sure.

“Well, if you don’t want to see what it can do…” Mr. Miller fingered a switch on a remote that Callum now saw was in his hands. Immediately the feeling became weaker, a distant echo of what it had been doing just moments before.

“It’s not working anymore,” they couldn’t disguise the disappointment in their voice, “what did you do?”

“Just made it so I could do this,” and he pressed one of the buttons on the remote.

Callum was seized by a powerful orgasmic ecstasy, from total surprise to pleasure with no warning at all. It lasted one second, two seconds, three seconds, and then the feeling fled as quickly as it arrived. Callum felt an instinctual need for the feeling again to chase away this “not-feeling”.

“Please. Wow. Again?” Callum seemed to be asking if that feeling would ever again be possible rather than expecting another hit.

 “That’s the good boy button. Come here. Stand in front of me. I’ll do it again.”

They were being treated like an animal! This was the collar challenge! They had seen it so many times, the hollow look in the collared one’s eyes as they wrestled against following an order. The wavering lips slightly parting at the prospect of the reward. Each and every video demonstrating a complete collapse before the submissive trotted over to receive the gift. 

Callum shook their head and resolved that they would never follow any order just because that magical feeling would surely follow. They were not going to be swayed. This was enough and too far, they had to stop this now. For 3 seconds Callum was convinced that their next action would be to take the collar off. 

Callum turned and trotted to Mr. Miller to stand directly in front of him. A sense of astonishment seeped through Callum seeing how quickly surrender came at the merest suggestion of repetitive spikes of pleasure. But there was no denying it. They were following a script Callum had jerked off to a dozen times before, though they hid it guiltily from Aron. 

“Good boy,” and the button was pressed. Callum almost collapsed and had no capacity to stifle the moan that escaped their lips. The second time Callum was beginning to see the differences between “this” feeling compared to a real actual orgasm. This feeling was like an elevator taking Callum straight up to the top of their orgasm. There was no slow build up, no pulsing in their cock, no vivid imagery either on screen or in their mind to lube the process along. But the ecstasy, the joy, the emotion were also off, not fully an artificial sensation and certainly not unnatural but subtly letting Callum know this was being sent to them without them having any say at all. 

It was gone. Callum felt like every part of them that had been filled was empty.

“Again! Please”

“Please, Sir” came the correction

“Please… sir,” came the meek reply. 

“Good boy,” Mr. Miller pressed the button again, but now this was more of a tap. Not the press and hold for 3 eternal seconds, but a jolt that pushed Callum’s mood to happy like a puppet posed to smile. 

“Put your hands behind your head and I’ll press it again,” Callum no longer had the capacity to adequately judge the proposition. It was only a question of the feeling vs the not-feeling and no other variables or considerations could alter that truth. Callum obeyed only moments after having made the choice to submit. 

“No, don’t think. Just obey or I won’t press it. Squat down, keep your hands where they are.”

“Yes, Sir,” Callum said, the muscle memory of well-practised submission to their boyfriend echoing in their mind. 

“Good boy,” said Mr. Miller as Callum took their place and he tapped the button. The ‘good boy’ was answered with a moan as Callum stared directly into Mr. Miller’s crotch. 

“Stand up!” “Good boy!” Moan.

“Arch your back!” “Good boy!” Moan. 

“Take off your shirt!” “Good boy!” Moan. 

“Jump!”

Callum wasn’t thinking. The rapid succession of commands, of praise, of the orgasm was triggering something deep inside. There is no way Callum would have jumped at all 20 minutes ago without fear of harm. It would be absurd to imagine any scenario where walking into this pharmacy was going to lead to Callum shirtlessly jump at the command of kindly handsome Mr. Miller. And they jumped, reflexively, because the training collar knows how to train. 

“Jump again. Good boy.” 

Mr. Miller wasn’t pressing the button anymore but the low-level current of the collar combined with the intensity of the praise approximated a faded version of the pleasure before. There was a lesson here, about how cheap their obedience was becoming with every order, but Callum’s conscious mind was too far gone for the meaning to be clear. 

“On your knees.”

“Suck.”

Callum served. Callum obeyed. Callum worshipped. They listened and waited for more. 

 “Slow down. Lick around it.”

“All the way down now. Good boy.”

“Such an obedient boy now. No thoughts in that little head.”

“Good boy, now stay. Take it boy. Take it!”

Callum was blissed out, the narration of Mr. Miller reinforcing and increasing the power of the collar. As they took the man’s load Mr. Miller suddenly pulled back, hitting Callum’s cheeks and forehead with the final three spurts before bringing his cock back to Callum’s mouth.

“Swallow. Clean.”

Callum obeyed. They had to obey. This was the path of least resistance and it was wearing a groove in their mind. The cum splattered on their face made them feel more like a whore than Aron ever had in the bedroom. They had sucked off their pharmacist for nothing but a button and the humiliation was doing nothing but augmenting the collars merciless assault. 

“Stand up, go to that corner and stand on the box,” Mr. Miller pointed to an empty corner containing a white stand 40cm high well sized enough for a person to stand on top. Callum did so, suddenly facing just the wall’s blue paint and nothing else. They could feel some of the cum on their cheeks start to slide down their face and started to move to wipe when Mr. Miller eliminated the possibility.

“Stop. Don’t move. You are going to find that the longer you don’t move, don’t speak, don’t do anything at all that the strength of collar will continue to increase,” Callum moaned and the emptiness swiftly returned. 

“And if you make any noise, if you move it all goes away. And it will take a long long time to build back up. So be good. I have work to do,” and with that he stopped talking. 

Callum’s mind was not focused on any high level of thought, on any sorts of meanings or what exactly all this was doing to their brain. No, Callum’s mind was entirely focused on how to breathe quietly, to muffle any desire to pant, moan, or whimper, on how to keep perfectly absolutely still. And every moment Callum spent was rewarded by the excruciatingly gradual increase of the collar’s power. The cum dripped down now onto their chest, their own cock painfully hard and leaking through their underwear, and Callum stayed motionless through it all. What they wouldn’t give to get any sort of motion or stimulation that would lead them to an explosive orgasm, but the consequences of even trying to touch their pulsing member were simply too dire to contemplate. 

Minutes passed. They could occasionally hear Mr. Miller move, clicking a mouse or tapping a keyboard. Vaguely Callum realised that this corner, behind Mr. Miller’s desk, they wouldn’t even be in his eyesight. Callum was just a decoration that likely wasn’t even being viewed and the feeling of being objectified to that degree revived the cycle of humiliation and arousal that would consume them for many minutes more. 

Please let me do anything, Callum silently and motionlessly begged. Anything to earn the button, anything to earn something more than frustrating arousing never-ending pulses. But the thought of stopping those pulses, frustrating though they were, didn’t even enter their mind. Knowing there was something better was not worth giving up what they had already. 

“Turn around,” the order was abrupt and without warning but as if they had been waiting the entire time Callum spun around to look down at Mr. Miller. He was holding a box addressed to Aron. 

“Put your shirt back on, it’s time for you to deliver this to your boyfriend,” Mr. Miller was back to professional with an edge of superiority that in Callum’s state was hard to miss. 

“But,” it was difficult to get the words out even though it seemed whatever setting the moving and speaking ban had been on had ended, “what about the collar?” 

“Don’t touch it.” Final. To the point. Callum blanched at the implications. 

“Sir…the remote, at least, please?” 

“No, you’d bliss yourself out as soon as you walked out the door. You can’t be trusted with your own pleasure. Don’t ask about it again.”

Callum felt stifled and hot. The degradation of being spoken to like this, of being made to keep feeling like this, of not being able to stop it was fucking their mind. There was no way they could stand it and yet persisting suddenly seemed pointless. Mr. Miller had made his decision and it felt like there was nothing Callum could do about it. 

“Now go home, and drive safe. That package needs to be delivered straight away. Make sure Aron gets it, boy,” the tone was obvious. Callum was just a boy. They were being treated like one. And that’s just how things were going to be. 

“Yes, Sir,” Callum said, almost whimpering the words out. They thought briefly about asking to wipe their face but it was clear Mr. Miller was done with them. Sticky, dirty, and thoroughly reduced to an inferior nothing, Callum left for the long bike home.

—

“Callum is on their way, yes. Oh they did well. No resistance. A very good boy.”

…

“Yes, I think so. You can schedule a fitting any time you’d like. It’s not strictly necessary but we do find that the chastity device attachment really motivates those who have issues adapting but with someone as submissive as they are I’d just love to see what happens.”

…

“Yes, I think I am free Friday. I’ll have to double check but I’d love to come for dinner.”

…

“You’re very welcome, Aron. I’ll send the invoice in the morning. Good bye.”