The Glory of Humiliation

By Randall Austin

Published on Oct 25, 2014

Gay

The Glory of Humiliation Part One of Three Parts By Randall Austin

This story is erotic fiction meant for mature readers and should only be read by adults over the age of eighteen years old. Please do not use my stories without my permission and please forward all comments to randallaustin2011@hotmail.com

Randall Austin's Archive Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Randall_Austin_Stories

(Author's Note: I would like to thank my editor, Donny Delk, for his encouragement; and for all of the many hot and naughty ideas he contributed to this chapter. Randall Austin)

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While the young are easily humiliated, most adults are not. Losing one's swim trunks on a dive into a pool could easily cause a young male teen to blush for hours, but an adult would most likely find humor in the situation.

But when adults are truly humiliated, such as when they are arrested for driving while under the influence of alcohol and the event is publicized, the results are often devastating to an individual's sense of self worth, and frequently results in a cathartic overhaul of the humiliated one's approach to everything in life.

And the most extreme forms of humiliation can profoundly alter an individual's very sense of their purpose in life.

As Nicholas Paulson awaited his sentencing hearing, he knew beforehand, from counsel, that he would most likely be sentenced to a term of indentured service to the State of Colorado for a period of up to six years maximum.

But what he did not know, and was only now beginning to find out, is that life for the criminally indentured was likely to be dosed with plenty of painfully embarrassing situations.

When Nicholas was delivered to the courthouse from the county jail by a trio of `court handlers', Nicholas realized that the majority of people employed by Colorado State's Social Services System (one of the lowest rated in the country) were a pretty dismal lot; almost-delinquents who would likely be considered unemployable by most other industries.

When Nicholas realized that these court handlers' had the authority to order him to strip and then dress him in a neon green jumpsuit that screamed loser', he knew his life had seriously changed in regards to the way he would now be treated by society in general.

The officer who escorted Nicholas into the chamber of the sentencing judge treated him like a child, "Behave yourself before the judge or else we'll have to give you a good bare-ass whumping after your sentencing!"

Nicholas couldn't believe what he had just heard. It was an ego-shattering moment for Nicholas.

Only when he was escorted into the courtroom did Nicholas recall with horror that all of his friends and family were present. It was he, who while under house arrest, fully admitted to his friends and family that he had done wrong, and that he deserved what was coming to him. And so he had invited everyone he spoke with to his sentencing, without taking into consideration what sentencing would entail.

What he did not realize at the time he freely invited everyone to his sentencing was that the criminally indentured are not exactly treated like respectable members of society. And his neon-green jumpsuit and threat of a spanking were just the first little surprises he encountered in his new life.

And when Nicholas, escorted into the courtroom in his neon-green jumpsuit, realized that all of his family and friends were staring at his funny jumpsuit, he suddenly realized that he looked like a hapless fool. And suddenly he felt like one, and he began to sweat.

Nicholas was momentarily pleased and surprised when the judge sentenced him to only five-years full-service indenturement for his drunken behavior; behavior that put many lives, including a bus load of children, in mortal danger. Although no one was injured, Nicholas's reckless behavior was so egregious that it was the talk of the entire state for weeks as the community expressed its outrage in every available social media.

But what surprised Nicholas and shook him to the core of his being was the sense of shame that overcame him as Judge Elizabeth Clarendon admonished him and sentenced him in front of his family and friends.

"Nicholas Paulson, you have lost the respect of society by your actions, and society, for its own safety, has decided that you need time in a strictly controlled environment so that you may ponder the actions that led to your arrest and conviction, seek out your better nature and the values that you ought to be sharing with the community at large, regain your usefulness to society, and find once again your dignity."

"Nicholas Paulson, your profligate behavior is especially an outrage because you are a student at the Cornell University School of Law, and before your offense you had just been hired as an intern by the law firm of Shankles, Fontana, and Aikens. Mr. Paulson, if anyone should know the law and the codes of society, its mores, if you will, it should have been you. Thus you are doubly guilty."

"Therefore, because of the egregious nature of your offense, I am requesting that once you are taken out of the courtroom to the processing area, where you will be stripped and fitted with a permanent servitor genital collar, that you be strung up and hung from the punishment trestle, be given 40 lashes of the servitor control whip across your entire backside, buttocks, and upper legs."

"I am also ordering that after your whipping you be poled and flagged, and then be strung, hoisted to `punishment exhibit' level, and hang upon the display trestle for a period of three hours so that you may fully ponder the seriousness of your offense, and make a firm resolve to change your profligate ways."

Nicholas didn't know what being `poled and flagged' meant, but it frightened and humiliated him to be told that such a thing would be done to him.

Judge Clarendon paused to see if her words had any noticeable effect on Mr. Paulson's demeanor. To Judge Clarendon it seemed that Nicholas was overcome by both fear and shame.

Judge Elizabeth Clarendon next addressed the courtroom, "At this time, I have an announcement for the friends and family of Mr. Paulson who have gathered here. The State of Colorado does not allow either family or friends to witness corporal punishment, but you may visit with Mr. Paulson after his whipping."

"I would like to emphasize that visiting Mr. Paulson after his correction session is something you may want to do at this time because one of the terms of the lease as accepted by the leaseholder, Robert Thorne, is that Mr. Paulson not be allowed any visitation rights for the first ten months that he is in service at his residence; so this will be your last opportunity to visit with Mr. Paulson until next year in the spring."


The three court handlers led the freshly sentenced servitor to a secured door signed with the words, `Processing and Amercement Clinic – Certified Staff Only'.

On entering the room a 28-year old male nurse came forward and asked of the handlers if the man in the neon green jumpsuit was Nicholas Paulson, and they confirmed that he was indeed Nicholas Paulson.

The nurse then instructed the handlers to go ahead and strip Mr. Paulson.

As one young handler began by unzipping Nicholas's jumpsuit, another ran his hand through his hair and asked the nurse, "Does this have to come off too?"

The nurse looked over Nicholas's file, "No, just the entire pubic area and pits!"

Once unzipped, the handlers had Nicholas step out his sandals, and then removed his jumpsuit.

Nicholas had always felt that his naked body was only for the special women in his life to see, not for the three punks who were gawking at his freshly bared body, and certainly not for his family and friends.

Nicholas had always prided himself on his taut and well defined body; and on the `only slightly' circumcised look of his sperm-shooter, that when flaccid revealed only the very tip of his penis head, leaving the rest of his mushroom head visible only to those intimates of his who were lucky enough to gain private access to his plump, hefty sized, man rod.

But now he was being ogled by three punks. Being naked and ogled, Nicholas no longer felt like himself. He felt not only controlled, completely without the ability to make any decisions for himself, but he felt violated to the core of his being.

It did not seem right that these strangers had total control over his body and would get to see him being punished.

When Nicholas was bare and fully revealed, one of the handlers quickly buzzed away the hair from his pits and pubic region, then led him to a special tiled area of the room, hosed off his pubic area, lathered it up, and began shaving his cock, balls, and ass.

Once they had Nicholas's genitals all baby smooth, one of the handlers had him raise his arms and applied shaving cream to his pits, "Ok, time to pit-shave you just the way the girls like to do to themselves."

Another handler chimed in with a smile, "We're gonna get you all nice and girly smooth!"

Nicholas noticed that even the nurse was smiling at the three handlers' effrontery.

Once they had Nicholas's man pits shaved lady-like smooth, they hose-rinsed the new slave, and then dried him off with a vigorous rubbing of a towel, just the way one would towel dry a little boy.

They then guided him over to the watching nurse, who removed a genital collar from its plastic wrap sealing.

The collaring was over in an instant. It was lightweight, but over an inch wide, thus causing Nicholas's newly enslaved unit to jut up and out.

The nurse then instructed the three handlers to get Nicholas harnessed and corseted for his hanging and whipping.

The three boys appeared to Nicholas to be most eager to get him harnessed, corseted, and hung. The three handlers worked in tandem getting the harness secured about his upper torso; and the special corset that went about his legs just above the knees, which would both help carry his weight as he hung from the ceiling, and offer protection from the whip to the lower part of his upper legs.

Once the young handlers had the hapless slave corseted and harnessed, they pulled down cables attached to the ceiling's trolley and pulley system and secured them to the attachment points on his harness and corset.

They then brought Nicholas's hands together in front of his belly button, cuffed them together, and worked some controls on the hanging mechanism that lifted the wide-eyed, frightened, wayward, former law student, two feet off the floor.

While the boys were getting Nicholas ready for his hanging, the nurse alerted the disciplinarian, via the compound's paging system, that Nicholas Paulson was ready for his correction procedure.

The 26-year old man who would be doing the whipping entered, dressed in dress slacks, a blue dress shirt, tie, and jacket, went up to Nicholas and touched him on his cuffed hands. Nicholas was surprised at the friendly demeanor of the man who would be whipping him.

"Hi, my name is Jason Lombard, and I am a corrections officer with the Colorado State Department of Social Services. This entire procedure should take no more than forty-five minutes. This servitor control whip is very painful, but be assured that it will leave no permanent marks on your body, and once the whipping is over the pain should subside completely within six to eight hours."

Nicholas did not feel like a human being hanging before the neatly dressed Mr. Lombard, with his cock and balls cinched like a bull's, and sticking up and out in a `clear for all to see' manner.

And Nicholas wondered why the three handlers should be allowed to remain in the room for his whipping.

The nurse came and gave Nicholas a quick look over, then gave a go-ahead nod to Jason Lombard.

Nicholas found it hard to believe that the nice Mr. Lombard, dressed in a neat tie and sport jacket, would want to hurt him. But as Mr. Lombard removed his jacket, it was clear to Nicholas that the nice Mr. Lombard was going to hurt him.

When the first blow of the servitor control whip hit his back, Nicholas let out a scream of such intensity that it instantly excited the three young handlers, causing their mouths to water and open, and their young cocks to start engorging.

Nicholas soon understood why 40 strokes of the whip would take as long as forty-five minutes. Mr. Lombard paused between each stroke to let the pain sink in and intensify.

With each stroke of the whip Nicholas felt less and less like a human being. His senses were overwhelmed with the deepest shame; a shame so intense that it seared his inner being more deeply than the pain from the whip.

Mr. Lombard surprised Nicholas with each stroke of the whip, never letting Nicholas catch on to where he would strike next; from the shoulders to the upper back legs, to the mid back, to the rump, to the back legs just above the leg corset, to the rump again.

And each stroke of the whip had its effect on the three young handlers of making their cocks jerk and pulse with excitement, forcing them to shift their stance with each blow to hide their tenting slacks. Although fresh out of high school with their first level Colorado State Servitor Handler Permits, and only six months on the job, the three young court handlers were already well-skilled in adjusting their stances in order to hide their teen boners.

Once Mr. Lombard had successfully marked up Nicholas's entire back side with 40 red marks of the servitor control whip, he put down his whip, and went to an implements table.

Nicholas watched as the corrections officer took out a dildo with a two-foot long attached pole from which hung a 19-inch long by 7-inch wide red flag, to which were affixed white stickers with black lettering that spelled out the crimes for which Nicholas was indentured; Driving Under the Influence of Alcohol', Reckless Endangerment', Felony Vandalism', Indecent Exposure'.

Nicholas blushed when he saw the crimes listed; and when he saw Mr. Lombard start to lube up the dildo tip of the flagpole, he then realized what being `poled and flagged' meant.

Mr. Lombard approached the freshly whipped slave, and instructed him to relax his anal sphincter. Mr. Lombard put one hand on Nicholas's lower abdomen, just below the belly button, and with his other hand he began working the flag-poled dildo up the formerly proud lawyer wanna-be's behind. Mr. Lombard could feel Nicholas quivering, both from the discomfort of the dildo and from his sobbing.

Mr. Lombard, serious in his duty, lovingly secured the flagged dildo in place with straps about Nicholas's upper thighs.

Once Nicholas was poled and flagged, the corrections officer put on his jacket, and went and stood in front of the weeping Nicholas and touched him on his hands. With a demeanor still as warm and friendly as initially, he gazed at the freshly punished wayward's erected servitor man-rod, and said, "You really took that well. I am sorry I had to be the one to do this to you. Good luck to you."

Mr. Lombard affectionately patted Nicholas on the thigh, thanked the nurse, and exited the Processing and Amercement clinic.

One of the handler boys uncuffed Nicholas's hands, drew them in back of him and re-cuffed him, leaving his whipping-induced erection on clear display.

The nurse measured Nicholas's blood pressure and heart rate, then gave an okay for the three young handlers to hoist the slave up to the four-foot punishment display and exhibition level, and exited the room.

Once Nicholas was hoisted four feet off the ground, with his hands cuffed in back of him and a two-foot flag pole sticking out from his behind, he found it hard to believe that he was living in the 21st Century.

And when he saw the three court handlers hanging around leering at him, he was concerned, and wondered why they did not exit with the nurse.

He soon found out. Once the three court handlers were sure the coast was clear, they went up to the hanging slave and began to taunt him. One grabbed his pecker bone and began pumping it, another cupped his balls and began tugging on them, and the third reached up and started to fondle his ass globes.

While the sexual ministrations of the three hormone driven handlers had a strong effect on helping to erase the intense pain that Nicholas was feeling, it only served to throb up even more his whipping-induced, animal-dong, boner.

The handlers giggled as they did their dirty deeds, "How you gonna feel when your family comes in here in a few minutes and sees you all flag-poled and boned out like the jerker boy that you really are?"

The handler pumping Nicholas's shaft, which was now conveniently hanging near his mouth level, stopped his jacking and put his lips to Nicholas's dick tip, "One thing I'll say for you loser boy, is that you are one fuckin' hottie and I wanna taste some of your cream!"

He put his lips to Nicholas's dick tip and began sucking away like a teen girl tasting her younger brother's throbber for the first time.

Nicholas started to juice pre-cum, and he allowed it because it so mightily detracted from the pain in his backside; but the three court handlers knew they had only a few minutes and could not mess around for too long. The sucker boy took one more long and deep suck on Nicholas's throbber, and once he was able to draw a fairly good gob of servitor precum, warned his buddies, "We better get the hell out of here!"


Once he was alone, hanging like a crucified criminal, Nicholas was aware of his giant erection, and realized that if anyone of his family or friends saw it, they would think that he was a pervert as well as a felon.

He wanted his boner to go down, but it would not. His nervousness made him start to heavily sweat, making him look all the more like a loser creep.

And when the doors to the Processing and Amercement Clinic finally opened and Nicholas saw the court guard letting in his visitors, he began to blush. His face and chest turned red, and along with his sweating and giant slave-dong sticking up and out and screaming `total pervert', Nicholas's brain went into overload.

Nicholas recognized the people who were entering the room, his father, two brothers, six relatives, and nine college buddies; but he was so overwhelmed that he could recall none of their names.

All 18 visitors sort of paused as one when they saw Nicholas hanging naked, flag-poled, blushing, sweating, with his cinched, servitor-collared sack and rod, with its gaping piss slit open wide and oozing perv juice worse than anything they had ever witnessed in a zoo's primate cage.

Some of Nicholas's buddies immediately started snickering as they reached for their cells; but his six relatives simply found the situation too difficult and embarrassing to handle, and they immediately turned and left the clinic without so much as acknowledging him.

Nicholas's family offered awkward words of hope, as Nicholas's college buddies laughed and shot their cell videos of the `hanging loser' from a distance.

When Nicholas's family and college buddies finally took their leave, it was almost something of a relief for Nicholas to realize that he would not be allowed to have any visitors for his first ten months of service in the home of Mr. Robert Thorne; for Nicholas was quite certain that he would never again be able to face anyone of them again without feeling totally worthless before them.


When Nicholas was released from the Processing and Amercement Clinic, he was once again dressed in a neon green jumpsuit and taken to meet his new owner, Mr. Robert Thorne.

During his initial meeting with Mr. Thorne, Nicholas assessed him as a `nice guy'. His words were plain and he sounded caring and sincere to Nicholas, "When we get home I'll have my boys get you dressed in something more comfortable, and they can show you around and inform you of your daily chores and the household rules."

Mr. Thorne's two sons, Dave and Will, seemed like their father to Nicholas, in that they were plain matter-of-fact guys who were not at all into lording it over their slave. They seemed to be a family that simply had chores it wanted their servitor to perform, and that was that.

The two sons bantered with Nicholas good-naturedly as they showed him about the house and yard and outlined his duties.

David touched Nicholas on the shoulder, "We'll take you now to your quarters so you can get dressed in your house uniform, and let you have some time to yourself to relax a bit."

Nicholas finally was able to feel at ease, for it seemed that his lease had been purchased by a reasonable and caring family.

But Nicholas's `at ease' stance was put on hold when he was finally shown his living quarters.

END OF PART ONE

To be continued...

For more of Randall Austin Stories, Please visit the Randall Austin Archive Group. While it does not yet contain all of Randall's stories [it will eventually], it gathers the stories in one convenient location.

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Randall_Austin_Stories

Next: Chapter 2


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