Short Story IX

Anybody reading?

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Gratefully the angle of late afternoon sun brings a degree of coolness. There also come light breezes. With the beast’s suderiferous nakedness, there is almost felt a chill despite the heat of well whipped buttocks.

The Princess appears to nap, but her oral servant remains unseen... at least not his face and head. He has sedulously licked, lapped, sucked and swirled with his enormous tongue for hours. Bronzed effeminate buttocks flash from under the many folds of silk.

As the Princess suggested, trained for no other purpose, his castration has brought unfettered devotion to the pleasure of she who snipped. The beast notes the remnants of maleness peeking back between parted thighs. Showing his castration while orally serving seems to be a cruel mandate, the knees parted in an ungainly manner.

Above the ringing of the nipple bells, the beast hears an occasional sigh of joy. This continues to spur tumescence despite the stinging pain of salty sweat aggravating the dozens of lash marks. The castrated servant forays where his penis once basked in the bliss of royal warm wetness.

When the Princess ceased observing, lying back to absorb the many waves of ecstasy brought forth by the physical caress of tongue and lips... and the joy of slaking vengeance on her one time lover, Kendra mercifully stopped the many snaps of her wrist. Thus the afternoon returns to the daily drudgery of pulling the prong, step after step, each footfall draining not only his limited energy but his life as well.

Kendra exits her shack with water. The beast knows to continue his pace. The capstan is not to slow as he gratefully imbibes. Thus Kendra steps in circle with him as the bottle drains.

The rotation returns the duo to where the Princess languors in continuous cunnilingus. She stirs, the late afternoon coolness beckoning a need to return to reality. She sits upright to note the beast’s unending labor.

“Should he have more weight, Kendra? The thighs and biceps seem to welcome some form of restraint. And I would think a formidable neck collar would be both functionally irritating and somewhat decorative... a nice thick circle of black iron. Make it broad to immobilize his head.”

The Princess arises, pushing away the naked cherub, his chin dripping with her essence. The folds of white silk close as she approaches. Incredibly, a semi stiff manhood renews its stand, stiffening in tribute. A regal hand gesture indicates a pause. Kendra grasps the nostril tubing to still the beast.

“Very skilled with the quirt, Kendra. You whip well.”

“Thank you, your Highness.”

“But what is happening to his penis? It’s leaking.”

“Prostatic fluid, your Highness. It’s the chastity.”

“Well, we can’t have that male gland suffering for too long. It may fail to amuse us if allowed to atrophy. You will need to assure it properly functions and he stiffens for me. Remember, I want a long agonizing existence. His health is important.”

“I believe I can accommodate... and amuse.”

The Princess smiles wryly.

“Good. I’ll have more iron sent. Remember... biceps... thighs... and the larger the neck collar the better. I want him to feel owned.”

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Should the beast feel grateful for the period of respite?

Kendra’s coking oven has been fired again. Her powerful arm has again brought the heavy clanks of hammer blows. Strips of hot iron are made to yield to her unequaled strength. At day’s end, the beast kneels, remaining attached to the prong as his right bicep is encircled and hot rivets are hammered into aligned apertures. When cooled such will provide permanence. There will be no key to offer temporary emancipation.

The left bicep is similarly fettered. When Kendra connects the two with a short chain, the beast huffs with the new sense of restraint. It forces awkward posture, his chest thrusts forth.

“Pwease no, Miss Kendra.”

“You’ll get used to it, my beast. The arm bindings will remind of your status and servitude... and not impede your labors.”

Another day brings thigh bands, the hammer seeming to clank in cadence with the beast’s nipple bells. A chain connects as well, measured well not to affect the beast’s shortened stride. It will have another function. The beast notes a large circular link in the middle of the length.

The snug bands and added chains double the burden which the beast must bear. And with such burden there will come new found obedience. Disciplinary weights added to hobbling chain and nipple badges will make his labors nearly impossible. Yes, he knows the quirt stands at the ready, thus comes an inner pledge of complete capitulation. He will circle without resistance, urinate upon demand... and of course orally service with zeal.

Finally, a third day brings the crafting of a neck collar. The Princess has bolstered her command with an offering of iron strips, the thickness of which surpasses that used for the wrist, ankle, bicep, and thigh shackles. The strips yield with difficulty, Kendra careful to assure for snugness without hampering breathing. But the chore becomes a labor of love, the beast’s neck to forever bear an instrument of her creation. He will feel the millstone of her controlling hand each and every moment of each and every day... for a lifetime.

Perhaps it will bring comfort, she reasons. There are those who relish the guidance of a firm woman. The beast’s penis suggests he is one.

With the setting of the sun, two incredibly thick strips of iron have been forged, semi circular segments in the middle will form a circle when joined. Heated rivets will forever hold the strips together, a human neck in between. Once cooled, the collar is not to be removed.

Kendra has taken the time to add rings. The collar can bear a leash. There may be a time when a guiding heavy neck chain will better communicate ownership and control. More symbolic than the effective but relatively dainty nostril tubing. After all, the Princess as suggested he is to be displayed.