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Institute
Kleist
Madame Greta perused the list of new admissions. Six this week, an abnormally high number for the time of year, she thought. Her gaze alighted on number 15; 22 years old, slim, well built but not bulky, nicely proportioned penis. But it was the handwritten note appended to his description that interested her. During his examination and appraisal number 15 had shown quite extreme fetishistic tendencies, displaying a strong erection throughout. Madame Greta’s staff noted that 15 was particularly responsive to high heels and leather, as well as illustrations of male submission.
As Director of the Kleist Institute for Male Obedience Training Greta had overall responsibility for all staff and patients. Her days were generally taken up with administration and meetings, ensuring that the Institute functioned smoothly. The day to day work of the Kleist, mainly based on intensive one to one sessions with patients, was carried out by a large and highly experienced team of Disciplinary Therapists and nurses. From time to time, however, Greta liked to work with patients herself. As a highly qualified Therapist Greta found that there was no better way to keep herself in touch with the work of the Institute.
Fortunately the Kleist was a relatively small operation, giving Greta ample opportunity to practice. Even when the Institute was full there would be only twenty males undergoing training at any one time. The average patient would stay for three to four months, leaving the Institute as a submissive suitable for use as a slave or servant in a female run household. Most “graduates” of the Kleist found employment in the home of wealthy ladies, mainly widowed or single, who wished for male company but entirely on their own terms.
As for the patients themselves, they came from all strata of society. Some had fallen on hard times or were in trouble with the authorities. Others, and Greta was certain that number 15 fell into this category, were natural submissives wishing to live the life they dreamed of. A small number were sent by wives or girlfriends wishing to educate their partners to be more compliant.
Set in the middle of a large agricultural estate and hidden in a dense wood, virtually no one outside a select circle knew of the Institute’s existence. Staff and patients were contracted to strict secrecy; the latter’s cooperation being ensured by a library of compromising video evidence of their training kept in the Kleist’s extensive vault. Once inside the Kleist a patient effectively ceased to exist. One great advantage of the Institute’s network of powerful sponsors and friends was that records could be altered, lost or deemed never to have existed.
*****
Madame Greta informed the staff of her intention to train 15 personally at that morning’s departmental conference. Apart from the odd raised eyebrow and a mental note to examine 15’s file more thoroughly, the announcement provoked little response. Once the meeting had ended Greta asked Nurse Anna to come to her office. Anna was to assist Greta in the training.
Anna arrived promptly and Greta asked her to study15’s notes.
“Unless you have any other suggestions, Anna, I intend to begin his training with a session with my whip and boots,” said Greta. “The boy is obviously a confirmed fetishist and I see no reason not to exploit this. At least we shall see if he is as promising as his notes suggest.”
“Yes Madame,” replied Anna, “he certainly looks the type to respond well.
“Very well.
The time is now
Anna left the room to prepare 15 for his first training session with Madame Greta. Greta herself retired to her dressing room to change. Greta was a very experienced Discipline Therapist and knew that the initial impression she made with a new patient was vital. What happened in the first ten minutes of the first session would often set the pattern for the weeks and months to follow. She therefore chose her wardrobe carefully.
Greta was a mature woman of 46. Her beautifully styled hair, which she wore quite short, had turned silver grey but she did not colour it, feeling that her age confirmed rather than diminished her authority with most submissives. She was of medium height, slim but with a 37 inch bust that, through regular exercise, was still very firm. Greta was, she admitted herself, not conventionally attractive. Her nose was rather pointed and her mouth quite large, but she had high, well defined cheekbones and piercing green eyes that, when in full make up, lent her face a distinct air of command. Submissives knew immediately they met her that Madame Greta was not a lady to be trifled with.
Slipping out of her clinical coat Greta selected a black leather corset from her wardrobe. The corset emphasized her large breasts and trim waist. She then selected a pair of fully fashioned sheer black nylons, attaching them to the corset suspenders. Over these she decided to wear a pair of high cut black leather panties. Then came the choice of boot. Nothing too obvious she thought. After a few minutes Greta settled on a pair of plain black leather thigh boots with a five inch stiletto heel. These were an old favourite, fitted her well and were still in immaculate condition though almost four years old. To match her boots Greta chose a pair of soft black leather opera length gloves. And to wear over her ensemble, for it would not do to expose herself to the patient too soon, Greta selected a thigh length, long sleeved, black latex housecoat left open at the front.
Greta had a large collection of whips and canes in her dressing room. From the rack she removed a dressage whip, thirty nine inches long, with an ivory and sliver handle. Greta tried the whip, swishing it through the air a few times. It made a suitably menacing sound and felt well balanced in her hand. It wasn’t the most brutal whip she had in her repertoire by any means but well capable of inflicting the amount of pain she would need.
Greta admired herself in the large mirror on the wall of her dressing room. There was no doubt; she thought to herself, she still had that indefinable something. They might be younger, fitter, prettier, but they all lacked her natural elegance and authority.
After applying one final coat of deep vermilion lipstick Greta had another look in the mirror. Satisfied, she removed her leash from the wall, and made her way to Training Room 3.
*****
As she entered the Training Room 15 was waiting patiently with Nurse Anna. As instructed he had been harnessed and collared, his wrists pinioned to his sides. Anna had ensured 15 was naked and kneeling, head bowed. From his short time at the Institute he knew sufficient not to move or speak unless given permission to do so.
Greta’s stiletto heels clicked menacingly on the hardwood floor as she entered the room, whip in hand. She handed her leash to Anna, who quickly clipped it to 15’s collar and held it awaiting Madame’s instructions. The room was quite small, some fifteen feet by fifteen and had no windows. Light was provided by a single bulb suspended from the high ceiling. It had an oak floor and no furniture other than a large, high backed wicker chair in one corner and a small chest of drawers. Three of the walls were covered with light grey leather into which were set several eye bolts; the other was mirror reaching from floor to ceiling.
“Now 15,” Greta began, “my name is Madame Greta. You will address me as Madame. I am the Director of the Kleist Institute and you will have the great privilege of being trained by me personally. There is only one purpose to your training and that is to teach you to obey. I shall teach you to obey me. You will learn to obey me instantly and unquestioningly. Over the coming weeks I will teach you to place obedience at the centre of your life. When I am in the room you will not think, you will not speak, you will simply obey.”
“I have only one method of teaching obedience 15, and that is through discipline. Everything is very simple, simple enough for even you to understand. You will notice that I am holding a whip. If you disobey me I shall whip you. I shall whip you until you learn to obey me. I hope that is clear. If not you will soon learn.”
“This morning 15, I am going to give you your first lesson in obedience by teaching you how to carry out a very simple but very important task. You will notice that I am wearing a pair of high heeled boots. Now as befits a lady of my standing my boots are elegant and nicely polished. However, as any lady will tell you, a pair of boots can never be clean enough. There is always more that can be done to make them cleaner, shinier, more beautiful. And that’s where you come in 15. I’m going to teach you how to clean my boots. Unfortunately we have no polish or brushes in the room so you will have to use what you have; your lips and your tongue. I’m sure you understand.”
Greta moved across to Anna and took the leash from her. “Come back in…. 50 minutes Anna.” And Anna left the room.
Greta walked slowly round 15, his leash in her hand and swishing her whip. Her heels echoed around the room.
“Kneel up 15 I want to look at you,” ordered Greta, curtly. 15 lifted himself but kept his eyes to the floor. Greta placed the tip of her whip under his chin, raising it. 15 was blond, clean shaven and in good shape. He was lightly tanned and looked a little younger than 22. It occurred to Greta that he may have lied about his age, not an uncommon occurrence with applicants to the Kleist. Although obviously disoriented and frightened 15 had all the signs of the beginning of an erection, something Greta noticed with great pleasure. And the file was right, his penis was well formed, circumcised and both longer and thicker than average.
“Well 15, I think we should begin, don’t you? Unfortunately we only have a short time together this morning, so we shan’t be able to accomplish a great deal. However, training time is precious, so shouldn’t be wasted. For the purpose of this session you will be allowed to say two things 15. Those are “Yes Madame” and No Madame”. If you say anything else I shall whip you, do you understand?”
“Yes Madame,” came the somewhat tentative voice at her feet.
“Good. You learn quickly 15. Very well boy, you may start to clean my boots.”
15 hesitated, not sure exactly what to do. WHIP! WHIP! WHIP! Greta’s dressage whip struck cruelly on 15’s thigh, leaving three thin, bright red weals across his skin.
“Did I not tell you to start cleaning my boots boy? Exclaimed Greta angrily. “When I tell you to do something you will obey without hesitation. Get your nose on the floor boy, this instant!”
15 dropped forward on his face, unable to break his movement with his hands. Greta stood to one side, tapping his bottom with her whip. “Six strokes for impertinence.”
WHIP!
WHIP!
WHIP!
WHIP!
WHIP!
WHIP!
Each stroke of Greta’s whip sliced through 15’s flesh like a searing hot wire. His bottom quickly became two crimson globes of pain. He struggled not to make a sound but on the fifth and sixth strokes was unable to control his muffled shrieks of agony.
“What’s that 15?! Are you apologizing to Madame for your insolence, WHIP! for your disobedience? WHIP! My WHIP! boots WHIP! need WHIP! cleaning!!!!”
15 thrust his mouth onto Greta’s boots and began feverishly to lick them. His tongue pressed hard against the black leather, covering their polished surface with a sheen of saliva. Greta tugged at his leash and her whip whistled down again.
WHIP!
WHIP!
WHIP!
“Madame wants her boots cleaned not washed, you pathetic creature. WHIP! Lick properly boy! WHIP! WHIP! Bottom up for Madame. Lick my boots while I whip you.
WHIP!
WHIP!
WHIP!
WHIP!
“A little better boy, a little more energy. Madame likes her boots to be licked with respect. WHIP! WHIP! The heel now, lick Madame’s stiletto heel. WHIP! Get your tongue WHIP! under the heel tip boy. Suck the stiletto heel. WHIP! Take the heel in your mouth. WHIP! WHIP! WHIP! Deeper boy! Now the sole of Madame’s boot. Lick harder!! WHIP! WHIP! WHIP! Now back to the leather boy! WHIP! Too slow. Keep licking while I whip you.”
WHIP!
WHIP!
WHIP!
WHIP!
“Lick harder you miserable boy!”
WHIP!
WHIP!
“Kneel up boy!” Greta pulled roughly on his leash and 15’s neck snapped back violently, almost causing him to lose balance. His bottom was a quivering red jelly, the flesh criss-crossed with the lacerations from Greta’s whip. Tears streamed down his reddened face. However, to Greta’s considerable pleasure, 15’s penis was powerfully erect, globules of glutinous precum forming on its head.
“That attempt was, to say the least, highly unsatisfactory 15. You clearly have a great deal to learn. Fortunately you have an excellent teacher and we have as much time as we need. And I will take my time 15. You are going to become very well acquainted with Madame’s whip and boots.”
“Look at my boots boy. Would you call them clean?” 15 looked at Greta’s elegant boots. They were spotless and gleaming, not a speck of dust or dirt to be seen.
“No Madame.”
“No Madame. Exactly. After five minutes of licking my boots are still dirty. And that simply is not good enough. Madame Greta told you to clean her boots properly and you have not done so. You have been disobedient, and so you need to be disciplined. I’m going to whip you again and then we shall have another try.”
Greta placed her left boot in front of 15. “Lick my boot while I whip you. Sixteen strokes for disobedience.”
WHIP!
WHIP!
WHIP!
WHIP!
15 was unable to control himself as Greta’s whip bit into his bottom. Each cut was indescribably painful. He could not help but cry out.
“Please, please Madame, I will try to be better. Please stop Madame I beg you.” 15’s voice trailed off into pathetic silence, punctuated by mewling cries.
There was a pause. Greta took her whip and swishes it through the air. “Oh dear. Oh dear. I had hoped that your disobedience might be confined to your inability to clean Madame’s boots. But it seems I was mistaken. I distinctly recall instructing you that the only words to pass your lips this morning would be “Yes Madame” and “No Madame”. And yet, while I am punishing you, I find you mumbling something about trying to do better.”
“I’m afraid it won’t do at all. Kneel up!” 15 slowly came upright, his body quivering but with his penis still erect. “I had intended to be lenient with you this morning as it is your first session. However, your impolite outburst has convinced me that you need to be disciplined more severely. Madame Greta does not tolerate disobedience. Madame Greta punishes disobedience. You need to learn from the outset that you are to obey instructions. Now, Madame Greta is going to punish you by whipping your penis. Anna, will you come in please.”
Anna returned to the room and was instructed to place 15 in a straitjacket and ballgag. Once fitted the jacket made movement of the boy’s upper body impossible and the gag prevented any sound. Anna held 15 securely.
“Six strokes on the penis for gross disobedience. Hold him tightly please Anna.”
WHIP!
WHIP!
WHIP!
“Yes, that’s much better. Taking your punishment without fuss or noise. That’s what Madame Greta likes to see. And your penis is still nice and hard for the whip.”
WHIP!
WHIP!!!
WHIP!!!
Six thin lines of red were now traced across 15’s erect penis. Tiny trickles of blood issued from two of them, running down onto the dark wood floor. In spite of the punishment it had taken his penis was as stiff as ever. Greta asked Anna to remove the gag but to keep 15 in his straitjacket. She took the business end of her whip, already covered in blood from the earlier beating, and touched it to the head of the boy’s penis, coating it in the sticky fluid that was seeping from it. Greta, smiling, placed it in 15’s mouth.
“Clean the whip!” 15 complied, licking the mixture of his own blood and semen from the whip.
Greta jerked 15 back to work. “Boots!”
15 got to work with a will. His body was tired, aching and his penis and bottom lacerated from the whip, but his tongue licked and licked Madame Greta’s boots. The leather uppers and five inch heels gleamed from his attentions.
Greta had him lick her boots for the last twenty minutes of the session, pulling him this way and that with the leash and every now and again using her whip to keep his tongue working hard. This one, she thought to herself, showed real promise. Few patients were able to maintain such a strong erection through a penis whipping. Such a pleasure to train a true boot fetishist.
Eventually there was a knock on the door of the Training Room. Another nurse informed Greta that she was needed in one of the punishment cells.
Greta turned to 15. “Tomorrow at ten. I shall continue your training in boot cleaning. Let us hope I see an improvement. Take him away Anna.” And with that Madame Greta left the room, whip in hand, her stiletto heels clicking, having thoroughly enjoyed her time with 15 and looking forward to the next session.
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