Couples Retreat: Obedience Training - Part 5

*Warning. This story contains depictions of an enema. If you are offended or grossed out by such material turn back now*.

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**Mark Cleans up nicely.**


**Clunk, clunk, clunk**. The clunking of leather boots echo down the concrete corridor. An hour has passed since Mark’s “orientation.” Mark's mild meditative state, abruptly interrupted by the sound. The heat in the cell had risen since he was stripped of all his clothes, either that or he had become accustomed to the temperature, but the concrete was still cool under his butt and feet. Thankfully the pain in his balls was almost non-existent now, only a very mild dull ache remained.


**Clunk, clunk, clunk.** The footsteps got louder as they drew closer to the cell in which Mark was held captive. The hairs on his neck stood up. Now that he was shook from his trance he was very much in tune with every little sound around him. He still had the taste of vomit in his mouth and was desperate for some water or mouthwash or hell, even a beer. He needed some comfort and a return to normalcy.


**Clunk, clunk, clunk.** The footsteps even louder now, every step echoing in Mark’s mind, stirring his thoughts and rousing his fear and anger. He now hears the muffled footsteps of soft soled shoes behind the boots. That must be Samantha and Ashley with her again, he thought to himself. Great…


**Clunk, clunk, clunk.** The sound is almost deafening now for Mark against the backdrop of his extremely quiet cell. The footsteps have stopped in front of his cell. He hears a metallic jingling sound and he cranes his neck to turn around and see.


“Eyes forward slave,” a familiar voice commanded. If the glance he caught of the beautiful red hair in his periphery wasn’t enough, the voice confirmed it. Claire was back and she meant business. Mark immediately snapped his face forward once more, obediently staring at the back stone wall of the cell.


A key turns and the loud antique tumblers from the cell door lock click in unison. The heavy iron-barred gate slides along it’s rail and Mark shudders, fearful for what’s to come.


**Clunk, clunk, clunk, clunk, clunk.** Claire gracefully walks through the entrance of the cell and to the left. She steps over the braided steel lines still tethered to Mark’s left wrist and ankle. She makes her way to the control panel in the back of the cell and swings open the panel door. Without so much as a word she presses and holds four glowing yellow buttons and the old fashioned winches begin pulling up the slack on the four steel cables attached to Mark’s wrists and ankles. Mark looks to his left and his right to verify his suspicions and confirms his fear, all four cables are being pulled tighter, drawing up slack into the walls on either side of the cell. Not wanting to get stuck in a painful predicament with the unforgiving steel cables, Mark slowly makes his way to his feet and widens his stance. He lets his hands fall to his sides.


“Good boy,” Claire comments softly with a grin.


The cables on Mark’s ankles are the first to tighten up. Claire releases two of the yellow buttons and Mark steps a little wider, shuffling a bit to the left to ease the tension in the cables. He is now centered in the cell with his legs spread wide. His arms continue to stretch out to the sides and then up in the air until they are firmly in place. Claire releases the final two yellow buttons when she is satisfied with the tension. Mark is once again, secured firmly in place, in the center of the cell with his arms and legs forming an ‘X’ shape.


Mark didn’t really register the sounds while he was being outstretched in the middle of the room but now that he is secure and the sounds of the winches had ceased he sees a shadow in his peripheral vision on his right. He turns to get a better look and there stands Samantha and Ashley, with another crash cart between them. Mark glances down to try and take inventory of the items on the cart but before he gets a good look Claire once again commands firmly, “Eyes FORWARD slave.”


Mark immediately faces forward once more. Claire takes a few steps forward towards Mark, her expression is cold and stern. Her vibrant red hair, pulled tight in a bun, burns like fire. Her pale white skin glows in the low light. Her fierce, unfeeling, green eyes radiate an intensity that Mark has never seen equaled. “Ladies, please begin the hygiene regimen,” she instructs coldly, almost medically.


Samantha walks around to the front of Mark holding an opaque white plastic container with a one inch spout at the top, like a ketchup dispenser one might find at an outdoor picnic. Inside the container was a green fluid, Mark could smell the strong mint smell from a coupe feet away. “Mouth open, this is mouthwash” Samantha instructed in a direct fashion, not quite as harsh as Claire.


Mark slowly opened his mouth. Samantha lifted the mouthwash dispenser to Mark’s face and gave the bottle a gentle squeeze, filling Mark’s mouth with the intense minty fluid. He closed his mouth and swished it around as best he could. His eyes teared up from the strong alcohol in the mixture as it burned every bit of his mouth while he sloshed it around. Samantha returned to the cart, set down the mouthwash and picked up a metal bowl. She came back to the front of Mark and held the bowl up just below his chin. Claire nodded to Mark, giving him the last bit of encouragement he needed. Mark tipped his head forward and spit the mouthwash into the bowl. Even with the mouthwash out of his mouth, it still burned greatly. He smacked his lips a bit as he tried to build up his saliva once more and cool the burning sensation.


Claire and Samantha slowly stepped back from Mark, Samantha taking the crash cart with her, and both made their way to the right side of the cell. All the while Ashley stepped forward from the right wall holding a garden hose with water dripping around the base of the nozzle at the end. Mark thought to himself, *oh great*, and took a deep breath.


Ashley squeezed the lever of the hose nozzle and a fairly strong beam of water came out, directed at the ground. The mild overspray misting up onto Mark’s feet and ankles. Slowly Ashley brought the beam of water up and began hosing down Mark’s naked, stretched-out, helpless body. Up the right side of his body, making sure to get his armpit a little more than the other parts. She slowly walked to the front of Mark and hosed off the front of him. First his left ankle, shin, thigh, waist, chest, neck, and then back down the right side, chest, waist. She quickly sprayed Mark’s pelvis and moved down to his cock and balls. The pressure of the water wasn’t quite intense enough to cause pain but definitely caused Mark some discomfort, especially after the day’s previous events. Ashley flashed a quick smile as she sprayed Mark’s tender parts, but continued on with her cleaning in a business-like fashion, hosing down his right thigh, shin, and ankle.


She moved onto his left side and made her way back up his flank with her water, making sure his left armpit was as clean as the right. Claire and Samantha moved to the back right corner of the cell to avoid any overspray. When she was done there she walked back the way she came and made her way to the back of Mark. Mark felt the water go up the back of his body the same way it did in the front, going up his left ankle, all the way up, a little extra attention on his butt and then back down his right ankle. The spray of water cut out and Mark sighed a little sigh of relief. He was glad that it was over. He felt so vulnerable, so helpless. He felt ashamed. He felt like, like….livestock. Like a farmer’s horse being brushed down after a ride. He felt like a piece of meat. *What’s next?* he wondered to himself, *thinking it couldn’t get much worse.*


Ashley set down the hose at Mark’s feet. She went over to the crash cart. Ashley picked up a large smock from the cart and put it on. Next, she put on a medical face mask and clear plastic eyewear as well as latex gloves. She picked up a rod of some sort off of the crash cart, roughly a foot long and went back behind Mark once more. Mark could hear Ashley unscrewing the hose nozzle and screwing something else on it’s place. Mark felt very uneasy. Claire walked around to the front of Mark while Samantha approached Mark’s right side.


“This next part may cause a little bit of….discomfort. You need to continue to remain quiet and relax your anus a bit,” Claire instructed thoughtfully, almost with a bit of softness to her request.


It was too much for Mark to handle anymore. He couldn’t contain himself, “Oh Hell NO. I am not doing any butt stuff, fuck that.” Claire's eyes flared a brilliant green that could burn deep into one's soul. She pursed her lips tight and quickly stormed over to the crash cart on the right wall.


“I was a good sport so far with your no speaking rule. I got up and let those cables tighten up and pull my arms and legs away from my body, didn’t fight it,” Mark angrily continued on. Claire found a latex glove and put it on her right hand extremely proficiently, with the speed of a practiced surgeon about to perform emergency surgery. “I was even good during that little barnyard whore’s bath you just did.” Claire quickly made her way up to the front of Mark once again. “But if you think I am going to just…OOOOOOFFF.” Claire swiftly swung her gloved open palm up into Mark’s wet balls and gripped them tight.


“Squeeeaaaaaak,” was all Mark could muster. Claire’s thin and nimble fingers were locked tight onto Mark’s wet and dangling orbs. They had nowhere to run or hide, Claire’s skillful grip was unrelenting and unbreakable from years of experience.


“As I have stated before. You do not have a choice in the matter,” Claire spoke slowly and carefully articulated every syllable. Her grip tightened slightly.


“You are not to speak,” Claire pulsed her grip to accentuate her point.


“You are to comply with every command,” she pulsed her grip once more.


“You are definitely NOT allowed to talk back with such disrespect,” she tightened her grip while still talking slowly and carefully.


Mark could only breathe heavily, almost panting with the incredible pain surging through his body.


“You are well past the introductory phase, you had orientation an hour ago.” Claire's grip did not let up.


“Your indiscretions have real ramifications.” A slow pause, Claire seemed intent to draw this out as long as she could.


“Comply.” *Another pause.*


“Submit.” *Pause*.


“Obey.” *Pause*.


Claire continued her merciless grip on Mark’s tender manhood for another twenty or thirty seconds, but to Mark it felt like an eternity. He gasped for air and squirmed feverishly in his restraints, anything the primitive survival portion of his brain could think of in times of dire stress. Eventually, Claire relented and eased her grip a bit.


Mark continued to breathe heavily as the pain began to slowly relent. However it was still very much clear and present in his brain as Claire had not completely stopped squeezing his fragile balls.


“Let’s continue,” Claire stated, not waiting for a response from Mark. She maintained a firm grip on his testicles.


Samantha bent down at Mark’s right side and put her arms around his waist, with each hand she grabbed one of his butt cheeks and pulled them apart. Mark felt extremely vulnerable, more so than he ever had in his entire life, including the day’s previous activities. He clenched his butt as hard as he could in reflex but Samantha was very strong and was able to easily keep his cheeks spread. Soon enough Mark felt a cool metal object touch his butthole. He tensed at the touch and gasped in surprise.


“Go ahead Ashley,” Claire said thoughtfully.


Mark felt a slight pressure on the metal object pressed against his asshole. He continued to clench out of reflex.


Claire looked behind Mark, presumably to gauge the progress with Ashley. Looking dismayed Claire tightened her death grip on Mark’s balls once more. “Relax….your….anus,” Claire said frustratedly.


Mark’s breath got heavier and heavier once again with the agonizing pressure returned to his balls. He started to fear the pain would never end. He would do anything for some relief. He tried to clear his thoughts and calm down. He was ready to give in. He had nothing left. He just wanted the pain to stop. The cool metal rod once more pressed against his butthole. He relaxed as best he could, given the circumstances. Slowly the tip of the metal rod made it past his anus, what felt like a millimeter at a time. Once the rod was past ‘the door’ it slid in with ease. Mark tightened up once again due to the strange and foreign feeling but it was already inside him, it was not coming out unless Ashley wanted it to.


Claire looked behind Mark once more to check the progress, this time she released Mark’s balls. “Finally,” she said with only mild agitation still in her voice. She slowly backed away from Mark, as did Samantha as well, now that the rod was in place.


Mark was still trying to catch his breath from the intense pain that had taken hold of his body and thoughts up until just a few moments ago. Before his breathing could return to normal something dawned on Mark. He had something inside him, a metal rod, up his ass. To Mark the rod felt very strange, very foreign. He was unsure just how much of it was inside him and frankly he didn’t want to know. He just wanted whatever this was to be over with.


Soon enough he heard a click and a cool pressure filled him up. It felt like he hadn’t shit in days. Eventually the pressure became too great and he finally relaxed and let it go. Soon he had great relief as he emptied the contents. That relief however, was short lived as the pressure built up just as fast as he could relieve it. After a little bit of practice, he was able just to relax and let the water flow out of him. A few more moments later and Ashley removed the rod, a wave of relief came over Mark. *Thank god that’s over. Worst experience ever….although at the end it was actually kinda nice*, Mark reflected.


Once again he heard Ashley behind him removing the fixture from the end of the hose and lots of water coming spilling out. He looked down and saw quite a mess. Ashley began rinsing off the floor and the wastewater was draining into an industrial sized drain near the center of the room a couple feet from where he stood. Once she was content with the clean up Ashley turned off the hose and set it down before she rejoined Samantha at the crash cart. Placing the rod in a plastic bag for safe keeping.


Samantha and Ashley wheeled the crash cart back to Mark’s side. Ashley dipped her hand into a large metal bowl on the top of the cart and pulled a handful of white cream and dabbed it onto Mark’s cheeks. Ahh ok, I get a little shave now, that isn’t too bad, Mark thought. *Although I kinda like my little beard.* Mark had been growing out his facial hair for a month or two now and was quite happy with his thick facial hair. He thought it made him look manly and rugged, like a lumberjack.


Next she grabbed a little more of the white cream and dabbed it on Mark's neck. Samantha joined in, grabbing a handful of the cream and started rubbing it on Mark’s shoulders. Ok….what’s going on here, Mark worried to himself.


Both women went to work, smearing the white cream all over Mark’s body….everywhere but the top of his head. With Mark covered head to toe in the white cream, the women rinsed off their hands in another large metallic bowl filled with water. They both reached under the top shelf of the cart and pulled out cloth aprons, which they quickly put on. Claire was at the back of the cell, going over the paperwork on her clipboard, periodically checking her watch, and watching the ladies work at a distance keeping a close eye on Mark.


With the apron secured around her waist, Ashley reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out what appeared to be a very elegant white handle, maybe 4-5 inches long, possibly made out of ivory. She pulled at one end using her other hand and unfolded it, it appeared to be a 4” straight razor, the old-timey kind used by barbers. Samantha did much the same, also unfolding a straight razor of similar grandeur.


“Don’t move, if you know what’s good for you,” Claire piped in from her position at the back of the cell.


Ashley reached up and grabbed the top of Mark’s head to keep it still. She put the blade of the razor against his right cheek, about half the way up his head. With one cool, smooth motion, she swiped the blade down Mark’s cheek…shaved clean. She wiped the razer off on the front of her apron and did the same thing on his left cheek. She continued to work on Mark’s face, swiping the hair clean off his cheeks near his mouth, above his lip, on his chin, along his jawline, his neck, until he was clean shaven. Mark sighed a little bit of relief. He never had a professional shave before and having a blade held by someone else on his face that close to his jugular made him nervous.


Ashley admired her work and moved to Mark’s left. Samantha gave her a nod of approval and moved to Mark’s right. Next both women started their blades on either side of the top of Mark’s shoulders and began to shave away the hair. *What the fuck,* Mark fumed inside, *they gonna shave my whole body?!?* Not wanting any more negative reinforcement from Claire, Mark bit his tongue.


“I can see you look confused. This is your first real lesson,” Claire began. “In the animal world, hair can be a status symbol. The mighty male lion and his full mane. The male peacock, strutting his giant elegant feathers to attract a female. There are countless examples of males trying to be masculine. Trying to strut and show off. Each trying to be more ‘manly’ than the next. Human males are no different. You guys try to wear your hair long, or grow long beards. Some of you try to show off your chest hair. It’s meaningless. Empty, false displays of masculinity. Here we will teach you to be humble. The first step is to strip you of all your outward masculine pride. Naked as the day you were born.” As Claire finished the first part of her wisdom, Ashley and Samantha finished shaving his arms and were now shaving his arm pits.


“Every bit of hair needs to be removed. Of course, at Sandra’s request we have allowed you to keep the hair on top of your head, to maintain appearances and all that,” Claire continued on. “Once you prove you’re worthy to Sandra, you may slowly be allowed some of your body hair back. Your arm and leg hair, arm pits, chest, etc. Under no circumstances are you ever allowed to let your pubic hair grow out,” Claire emphasized the last point with a stern tone.


With that, Ashley moved to Mark’s back while Samantha moved to the front of Mark. Samantha firmly gripped the head of Mark’s cock and pulled it down towards the ground. Mark gasped at Samantha’s rough handling of his package but didn’t say a word. He knew better than to speak up. Samantha began to shave the hair from Mark’s pelvis, moving her way down to his cock.


“Your cock and balls belong to us, women everywhere. To do with as we see fit. They need to be completely clean at all times. There must be no obstructions with our play things.”


Mark began to shiver at Claire’s words, partly because of her intensity and partly because Samantha was now cleaning the hair from the sides of Mark’s package. Having a blade this close to his gear made him very nervous. He tried to remain as still as possible but he couldn’t help but tremble from the adrenaline of the situation. Ashley had finished Mark’s back and moved down to his butt, but that barely registered on Mark’s radar until she began spreading his cheeks to get every little bit of hair.


Samantha pulled Mark’s scrotum tight in every which way as she slowly passed the blade over the skin. Her handling of his cock and scrotum was rough and down to business but her blade was careful and meticulous. She worked quickly and skillfully, as did Ashley.


“You may be subject to inspection at any time, either by Sandra, or another of our order. Any pubic hair at all is subject to great punishment,” Claire added.


Mark slumped his head feeling defeated. Tied, stretched, hosed down, enema, and soon to be completely hairless, Mark was feeling very defeated.


Fifteen minutes go by and Samantha and Ashley wrap up their work, shaving his thighs, shins, calves, ankles, and feet. They take off their aprons, ball them up and throw them in the bottom of the crash cart. Ashley walks behind Mark and once again he hears the water running from the hose. No nozzle this time, just hose water. Ashley makes her way around Mark, rinsing off any leftover shaving cream on his body, giving extra care to the areas stubborn to rinse clean.


Once Mark has been rinsed off Ashley again hoses down the floor so that any byproduct can go down into the industrial drain. Samantha walks up to Mark, still holding her straight razor and inspects every inch of his body. Any time she finds a stray hair or two, a quick swipe of the razor and it is clear. Finally, both women stand back and Claire comes forth once more to do a final inspection.


She puts two fingers out and lifts Mark’s chin, looks under each arm, looks closely at his nipples. She grabs the head of his cock and pulls it every which way, the same is done with his scrotum. She walks to the back of Mark and gently parts one cheek.


“Mmmmhmmm mmmhmmm, looking good ladies. Nice work,” Claire says proudly but not with too much emotion, she maintains her relatively stoic demeanor.


“Ok, let's take a quick mold cast and we can begin shortly with the training,” Claire says with a pace slightly quicker than her previous commands.


Samantha once again walks toward Mark from the wheeled cart. This time she is holding a metal cylinder covered in a handful of buttons and a small display. The can is somewhere between the size of a large soup can and a small can of coffee grounds. It has a vertical line going down the side on each side. There is no metal top on the can and there appears to be a strange blue material inside. Samantha presses two buttons on either side of the can, making a gentle clicking sound and parting the two halves.


Ashley looked relatively confused. “We want to get an anatomical mold of Mark’s testicles for later, before they get much more swollen,” Claire said to Ashley. Even though Ashley seemed to know what to do, she seemed relatively new to all of this, Mark observed. The part that stood out to Mark however was the phrase ‘much more swollen.’ Those words seemed to resonate through his mind and shake him to the core with fear and anticipation. He was beginning to get the impression that this experience would forever change him.


“Ashley, please grab the testicle lasso,” Claire instructed mildly.


Ashley quickly went through the cart’s contents and found a short bit of string with a loop at one end and joined Samantha in front of Mark. Claire nodded to Ashley to continue. Ashley hunched over in front of Mark with the string. Using both hands she guided Mark’s balls through the loop in the string. Once through, she grabbed Mark’s balls with her left hand and pulled the end of the string with her right. The loop tightened around the base of Mark’s balls, preventing them from retracting. Ashley released Mark’s balls from her hand and looped the end of the string around her finger to prevent slippage. With her finger Ashley pulled down harder with the string. Mark’s sore, clean-shaven, balls stretched down a couple inches towards the floor, held in place by this small bit of string. *Ugh, she has my whole world, literally at her fingertip*, Mark lamented silently.


With his balls held firmly in place with the string, Samantha lowers the two halves of the can to either side of Mark’s testicles. As Samantha brings the two halves of the can together around Mark’s balls, Mark takes a deep breath preparing for the worst. The jello-like blue material is cool at first but with the tension in the string, Mark is unable to instinctively retract his balls for warmth. Samantha looks closely on either side of the can to make sure the two halves are aligned and checks the bottom to make sure the end of the string is routed through the bottom guide hole.


Content with her observations she brings the halves together the rest of the way. A quiet clicking sound can be heard as the halves lock together. Ashley releases the string and stands back. Even with the string no longer looped around Ashley’s finger Mark’s balls are still unable to retract, held firmly in place by the can’s strange blue contents. Mark experiences a slight squeezing sensation as his balls fight against the blue gel, struggling to displace it. After ten seconds or so go by, the squeezing sensation has subsided and Mark let’s go of the deep breath he had taken.


Samantha looks to Claire for guidance and once again Claire gives her a nod, encouraging her to continue. Samantha feels around the side of the can with her right hand and finds another button. She presses the button and a light starts flashing on the can. The display begins a countdown starting at 60. While the display counts down Mark still hasn’t fully relaxed, fearful for what may happen to his poor manhood, suspended helplessly in this can’s blue contents. His fears are largely unrealized as the only thing he observes during the 60 second countdown is a slight warming sensation, almost relaxing.


Finally the countdown reaches zero and a low dinging sound can be heard. Claire nods to Samantha once more and Samantha fumbles for the buttons on either side of the can. She eventually finds the buttons and another low clicking sound can be heard. Samantha firmly grips each side of the canister and begins to pull them apart once more. As the sides part ways, the skin of Mark’s scrotum sticks slightly to either half of the can. Gradually the skin frees itself, like pulling a mild tape off the skin. Mark’s testicles immediately retreat up to Mark’s body with the cool air and nothing pulling them down anymore. Mark looks down at his manhood, the string lasso still dangles from his smooth pouch. He looks over at the canister halves Samantha still has separated out in front of him. The blue material has turned gray, inside the middle of each half is a perfectly formed testicle mold with a small line from the string.


Samantha brings the canister halves back to the crash cart and all three women inspect the mold and converse quietly amongst themselves. After a quick pow-wow, Samantha and Ashley begin rolling the cart out of the cell. Claire walks up to Mark at a casual pace. “We should be all set, you just hang tight and we will begin training shortly.” A small smirk reaches the corners of Claire's grin and her brilliant green eyes flash with excitement. Claire turns and walks out of the cell to join the ladies. The heavy loud gate slowly creaks along its track and produces a loud **Cachunk** when it closes and locks.


The tension from pulling against his restraints and burning his muscles has worn on him, Mark finally relaxes and slumps in his restraints. He can hear the women talking in the background but largely pays them no attention. He just looks down and carefully looks over his completely naked hairless body and softly shakes his head. The string from the ‘testicle lasso’ still dangles lightly from between his legs but causes little to no discomfort. He suspects if he tenses the muscles in his torso to retract his balls a couple times, the lasso will likely loosen up and fall to the ground, but what’s the point. Mark just closes his eyes and tries to relax and push thoughts of what could possibly come next from his mind.