The First Morning

Adwait woke before the alarm.

The hostel room was still dim, the ceiling fan turning in the same slow circle it had all night. Rohan’s soft snoring came from the opposite bunk. Kabir’s laptop was closed for once. Sameer’s bed was empty; he had left early for a morning run. Rain still whispered against the window, lighter now, more like a steady mist than the previous night’s downpour.

Adwait lay exactly as he had been told—on his stomach, hands under the pillow. His cock had hardened against the mattress sometime in the early hours and stayed that way, small and aching, but he had not touched it. The memory of the name sat in his chest like a warm weight.

Shitface.

He reached for the phone with careful fingers, unlocked it, and opened Discord before he even sat up. The private channel with Peter was already waiting.

Peter’s message was long.

Good morning, shitface. You will read every word of this message twice before you reply. You will then copy the entire message into the notes app on your phone, word for word. You will keep that note and add every future instruction I give you. This is not optional. I will ask you to read from your notes at random. If you cannot produce them, the conversation ends. Understood?

You are attentive. That is good. Attention is the first thing I require. From this morning onward you will treat my words as permanent. You do not skim. You do not paraphrase. You write them down exactly.

Today’s rules begin now.

1. You will message me the moment you wake, before you speak to anyone in your room, before you piss, before you wash your face. You have already done this. Good.

2. You will address yourself only as shitface when you write to me. “Shitface is awake.” “Shitface has read the instructions.” “Shitface is ready for the next order.” No other phrasing.

3. Your cock stays untouched unless I give permission. If it gets hard, you note the time and the reason in your private notes, then you ignore it. No rubbing against the mattress. No adjusting yourself for relief. You will report every instance at the end of the day.

4. Your ass is mine to look at when I choose. This morning, after you finish writing these instructions down, you will go to the bathroom, lock the door, pull your shorts down to mid-thigh, and take three photographs: one from behind standing straight, one bent forward with hands on the sink, and one with your cheeks spread by your own hands. No face. Good lighting. Send them immediately. Then you may dress and continue your day.

5. You will keep your phone on silent but with Discord notifications on. When I message, you answer within five minutes if you are free, or you send “Shitface is occupied, will reply in X minutes” if you cannot. No longer delays without explanation.

6. At 9 p.m. local time you will be alone again. You will sit on your bed or in the bathroom and wait for further instructions. Until then you live your normal hostel life. You do not tell your roommates anything. You do not change your behaviour around them. You remain the quiet boy they know. The difference exists only between us.

Write every word of this message into your notes now. Then reply with: “Shitface has written the instructions. Shitface is ready for the photographs.” Only then will you take the pictures.

I am watching how carefully you follow. Do not disappoint me on the first morning.

Adwait read the message once. Then again, slower. His pulse had settled into a steady, heavy rhythm. He opened the notes app, created a new note titled simply “P”, and began typing. Every word. Every number. Every period. His thumbs moved with deliberate care. He did not skip a single line. When he finished, he scrolled back to the top of the note and read it once more to be certain nothing was missing.

Only then did he return to Discord.

Shitface has written the instructions. Shitface is ready for the photographs.

Peter’s reply came thirty seconds later.

Good. Go.

Adwait slid out of bed as quietly as he could. Rohan muttered something and turned over. Kabir did not stir. Adwait took a clean pair of black shorts from his cupboard—tighter than the ones from the night before—and the phone, then locked himself in the bathroom. The connecting door to the next room was already bolted. The mirror still held faint steam marks from someone’s earlier shower.

He stood with his back to the phone first, shorts pulled down to mid-thigh. The yellow light made the curve of his ass look even fuller. Soft, heavy, the kind of shape that filled the frame without effort. He took the first photo. Then he bent forward, hands flat on the cool edge of the sink, back arched slightly so the cheeks parted just enough to show the deep cleft. Second photo. Finally he reached back with both hands, fingers digging into the soft flesh and spreading himself open. The third photo captured everything—the tight pink hole, the weight of the cheeks, the small, half-hard cock hanging between his thighs, already leaking a thin thread of precum that he ignored.

He sent the three images without examining them too long.

Peter’s response arrived while Adwait was still standing there, shorts around his thighs.

Acceptable. The ass is exactly as you described. Soft. Full. The hole looks tight. That will change later. Your cock is as small as you said. Good. You did not try to angle it to look larger. That honesty is useful.

Pull your shorts up. Wash your face. Return to your room. Eat whatever breakfast you normally eat. Go to your classes or whatever schedule you have today. At no point will you touch your cock. If it hardens in public, you will cross your legs or adjust your bag to hide it and you will note the time later.

Every time you sit today, you will be aware of how your ass spreads on the chair. That awareness is part of the training. You do not get to forget what you offered.

At 1 p.m. you will send me a short message: “Shitface is still attentive.” Nothing more unless I ask. At 9 p.m. you will be alone and waiting. I will decide what happens then.

Reply now with: “Shitface understands and will obey.” Then close the app and begin your day.

Adwait typed the exact words.

Shitface understands and will obey.

He washed his face with cold water, pulled the shorts up, and unlocked the bathroom door. When he stepped back into the room Rohan was sitting up, rubbing his eyes.

“You were in there forever,” Rohan muttered. “Stomach okay?”

“Fine,” Adwait said. His voice sounded normal. “Just waking up slowly.”

Kabir was already reaching for his laptop. Sameer returned ten minutes later, damp from the rain and the run, complaining about the weather and the canteen breakfast. Adwait moved through the ordinary morning the way he always did—brushing his teeth, packing his bag, answering a question about the thermodynamics assignment with the same quiet tone he always used. No one noticed that his phone stayed face-down on the desk except when he checked the time. No one noticed that when he sat on the plastic chair to lace his shoes, he felt the full weight of his ass settling and spreading, and that the sensation made his small cock twitch once against the fabric of his shorts.

He noted the time silently: 7:42 a.m. Hard for no clear reason other than the memory of the photographs and the knowledge that Peter had already seen them.

Classes passed in the usual blur of chalk dust, half-working projectors, and the low hum of ceiling fans. Adwait sat in his regular seat near the back. Every time he shifted, the awareness Peter had ordered stayed with him. The way the hard plastic of the chair pressed up into the softest part of him. The way his cock remained half-interested for long stretches and then subsided, only to stir again when he remembered the exact wording of the morning instructions. He wrote nothing during the lectures that was not related to the subject. The private notes stayed locked in his phone.

At exactly 1:00 p.m., between a practical and a free period, he stepped into an empty corridor near the water cooler and opened Discord.

Shitface is still attentive.

Peter’s reply was immediate.

Good. You are on time. That matters. Continue. I will not message again until evening unless something requires correction. Keep the notes updated. If any new instruction appears, you write it down before you act on it.

Adwait locked the phone and returned to the flow of the day.

By late afternoon the rain had stopped. The hostel courtyard smelled of wet earth and frying oil from the canteen. Adwait ate with his roommates the way he always did—quiet, nodding when required, offering the last piece of bread to Sameer without comment. Inside his head the words from the morning message replayed in the exact order he had copied them. He could have recited the six rules without looking. He had already checked the notes twice during the day to be certain.

At 8:50 p.m. the room began to settle. Kabir put on headphones and returned to code. Rohan lay on his bunk with one earbud in, watching something on his phone. Sameer had gone to the common room to play carrom. Adwait waited until the corridor outside was quiet, then took his phone and a thin towel and locked himself in the bathroom again.

He sat on the closed toilet lid, bare feet on the cool tiles, and opened Discord at exactly 9:00 p.m.

Peter was already there.

Shitface is waiting. Confirm.

Shitface is waiting, Sir.

Good. You will read the following carefully and write it into your notes before you do anything else.

Tonight you will stay in the bathroom for the next forty minutes. Door locked. Phone on silent except for this chat. You will remove your shorts and underwear completely. You will remain naked from the waist down. Your cock stays untouched. If it hardens, you note the time and continue.

You will set a timer for ten minutes. During those ten minutes you will stand with your back to the mirror, hands on your knees, and look at your own ass in the reflection. You will describe to me, in writing, exactly what you see. Shape. Colour. How the cheeks sit. How the hole looks when you are simply standing. No exaggeration. No shame. Only observation.

After you send that description, you will wait for my next instruction. You will not touch yourself. You will not sit down until I say you may. You will remain attentive to every word.

Write these instructions into your notes now. Then reply with the confirmation sentence I taught you this morning.

Adwait’s thumbs moved without hesitation. He opened the notes app, added the new block of text beneath the morning rules, read it back once to confirm accuracy, then returned to the chat.

Shitface has written the instructions. Shitface is ready.

Begin.

He stood, pushed the shorts and the thin cotton underwear down, stepped out of them, and folded them neatly on the edge of the sink. The bathroom light was unflattering and honest. He turned his back to the mirror, placed his hands on his knees, and looked.

The reflection showed exactly what Peter had already seen in the photographs: a mild, fit lower body, the small cock hanging soft for the moment, and the heavy, round ass that dominated the frame. The cheeks were smooth, the skin a warm brown that looked darker in the cleft. When he simply stood, the hole remained hidden between them, a tight, shadowed line.

He typed while still bent.

Shitface sees a full, soft ass. Round. Heavier at the bottom. The cheeks touch when standing straight. The skin is smooth. The hole is not visible unless the cheeks are moved. It looks small and tight. Colour is darker in the cleft than on the outer curve. No marks. No hair visible from this angle.

Peter’s reply came after a short pause.

Accurate. Stay in that position. Hands on knees. Do not straighten yet.

Now reach back with your right hand and spread the right cheek. Hold it. Describe the hole properly this time. Colour. Texture. Whether it looks like it has ever been used. Be precise.

Adwait obeyed. The cool air of the bathroom touched the newly exposed skin. His cock had begun to fill again, small and upward-curving, but he ignored it the way he had been ordered.

The hole is a tight pink-brown ring. It looks unused. Smooth edges. No gape. When Shitface spreads the cheek it stays closed. It looks like it would take effort to open.

Good. Release the cheek. Straighten up. You may sit on the closed toilet lid now, still naked from the waist down. Place your phone on your thigh so you can type easily. Your cock is not to be touched. If precum appears, you will report it but you will not wipe it away until I say so.

Adwait sat. The plastic lid was cool against his bare ass. He felt the cheeks spread naturally under his weight, exactly as Peter had told him to notice during the day. A thin bead of precum had already formed at the tip of his cock. He reported it.

Shitface is sitting. Precum is present. Small amount. Cock is hard.

Noted. You will leave it. Now listen carefully. Tonight is only observation and writing. There will be no orgasm. There will be no touching of the cock or the hole beyond what I have already ordered. You are learning to keep your attention where I place it.

For the next fifteen minutes you will sit exactly as you are. You will write a short paragraph in your notes about how it feels to sit naked in a locked hostel bathroom knowing a man in another country has already seen your ass and decided it belongs to him for the moment. You will not send that paragraph. It stays in your notes. When the fifteen minutes are finished you will message me: “Shitface has written the private note. Shitface is still attentive.”

After that I will give you the final instructions for the night and you will be allowed to dress and return to your bed. You will sleep on your stomach again. Hands under the pillow. Cock untouched.

Begin the fifteen minutes now. I will know if you rush.

Adwait set a silent timer on his phone. He opened the notes app and began to write. The words came slowly at first, then more steadily. He described the cool plastic under his bare skin, the weight of his own ass, the quiet knowledge that every photograph and every sentence had already been received and judged. He wrote about the small, neglected cock that stayed hard without permission to do anything about it. He wrote about the name that no longer felt strange in his mouth.

When the timer ended he locked the notes, returned to Discord, and typed the required sentence.

Shitface has written the private note. Shitface is still attentive.

Peter’s final message of the night was shorter, but still precise.

Well done. You followed every step without deviation. That is what I require.

Dress now. Return to your bed. Sleep on your stomach. Tomorrow morning the same rule applies: you message me before you speak to anyone else. I will have new instructions waiting.

One addition for your notes: from this night onward, every time you take a photograph of your ass for me, you will first write the date and the exact time in your notes, then the sentence “Shitface offers this for Sir’s use.” Only after writing that sentence will you take the pictures and send them.

Write that addition now. Confirm when it is done. Then you may close the app and sleep.

Adwait added the new line to the growing list of rules. He read the entire note from the top one final time, making certain every instruction from the morning and the evening sat in the correct order. Then he replied.

Shitface has written the addition. Shitface is ready to sleep.

Good night, shitface. You are learning.

The chat went quiet.

Adwait dressed, unlocked the bathroom, and returned to the dark room. Rohan was already asleep. Kabir’s screen was the only light, blue and shifting. Adwait climbed into the lower bunk, lay on his stomach, and slid both hands under the pillow exactly as ordered. His cock was still half-hard against the sheet. He noted the time silently and left it alone.

Outside, the rain had stopped completely. Inside, the fan turned. And in a locked note on a phone that rested under a thin hostel pillow, every word Peter had written that day waited, exact and permanent, for the attentive boy who would read them again at first light.