Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Short Story VIII

Enjoy.

*******************************************************************************************

The naked form leans and steps, his arms pulling at the lengthy wooden prong as his burdened feet challenge the harsh desert soil. The hobbling chain frustratingly limits, and well before a full stride is undertaken, he must step again. Though the capstan is substantial, the leverage of the prong and continuous exertion bring it to slow rotation. Step... step... step... the nipple bells peel and announce the slow continuous exertion. The circle in which the Princess’s consort now lives, his path never deviating, is some hundred feet in circumference. Possibly more, the prong is some twenty feet in length.

No longer required is the tension of Kendra’s hand on the pole and nostril tube. Gratefully, the sting of the quirt is reserved for ‘reminders’, when the bells become silent or fail to ring with enthusiasm. But more likely the nasty strand of leather is snapped for Kendra’s amusement. All will has been ceded to the stern woman of color, she applies pain at her whim.

Yes, the naked beast has become just that... a sluggish animal. There is acceptance. There is curious pride in serving such a masterful woman. There even come intervals of tumescence when she stands arms akimbo and displays her muscled femininity, smiling with the rhythmic chiming of the bells and the outpouring of sweat. The beast’s futile display of virility breaks the tedium and Kendra encourages the bizarre reaction... the penis spontaneously stiffening.

“Make it nice and hard for me, my beast. I like a man to be erect while serving. It is tribute.”

The days become countless. The imagination at first pictures the Princess’s fine nakedness bathing in the liquid labored by his sweat and toil. But with the many days, the hundreds of laps, cerebral activity diminishes. It is only when Kendra comes into view that the mind exits an odd world of nothingness. Thus, despite the threat of the quirt, her presence is welcomed. And with the snap of her quirt, the nasty sting brings awareness, cognizance returning with the resulting shudder of pain causing the nipple bells to ring with vigor.

It is only when he is whipped that he knows he remains alive.

Most weights have been removed. A well disciplined beast knows to earnestly pump water without. But Kendra has placed such in ready access and the threat of return looms. The slightest recalcitrance earns the slow torment of weighty nipple adornments. Pounds of iron can be clipped to the hobbling chain in mere moments.

With the sun high above, at the far off crest comes into view a silhouette, a woman on horseback. Soon the deep thunder of hoofs can be heard above the high pitch of the nipple bells. The neck cranes, straining to lift the head. Eyes struggle to focus, blinking away the streams of sweat. The rotation of the capstan frustratingly takes the visitor out of view. But as the lap is completed, the form notes the arrival of a white stallion. Upon it is the woman who once offered love, luxury and leisure. It is the Princess.

As promised, she visits.

Regally attired, the desert sun and heat require the irony of both covering and coolness. Thus she is in white, diaphanous flowing silk covering all. Only a ravishing face is exposed to the sun’s rays. The sight is juxtaposed by a cherubic saddlemate without a stitch of covering. Sitting astride the saddle facing her is an effeminate bronzed companion, diminutive in stature. The Princess reaches to playfully tweak the exposed nipples. As the young companion giggles in response, her hands shift to lift under the arms to aid her companion’s dismount. The beast notes the cherub is not only naked but hairless.

Kendra joins the duo.

“Welcome your, highness,” she steps forth to curtsy.

“A picnic lunch, Kendra. I have decided to amuse myself in reviewing my livestock.”

The Princess points to saddlebags. Kendra immediately understands she has been requisitioned to assist.

“My little friend has been trained solely for cunnilingus. Not as a house servant,” comes a succinct explanation.

With the rotation of the capstan, the scene continues to unfold to the beast’s rear. But the cerebral input has awakened a dulled mind. He listens. He thinks.

His lover! One time lover. So imposingly beautiful! So omnipotent! And with a naked servant.

Kendra removes the bags and opens. A blanket. Fruit. A bottle of wine. Sandwiches.

“I can pitch some covering, your Highness. It will be modest but offer shade from the sun.”

The Princess nods and Kendra scrambles to her simple abode. Meanwhile the motion of the capstan returns the visitors to view. The beast blinks away more sweat and visually inspects the naked saddlemate.

Yes, completely without hair... cranium and pubes. Though not overly fattened, the uncovered frame is draped with layers of curvy effeminate softness. Puffy nipples adorn slightly plumped breasts. Such have been pierced and bear glimmering jewelry. Then the eyes move lower. The gender is divulged by a tiny penis, also pierced and glimmering with baubles. Below there is revealed the derivation of the curious appearance... nothing to be seen other than a floppy tuft of skin.

Neutered! And at such a young age!

The Princess snaps her fingers and points downward. The servant instantly places his hands behind his head and falls to his knees. A sculpted gam exits the many folds of silk to present a booted foot. The servant bends and kisses.
The Princess turns her head to note that her beast is watching.

“I’ve very much been enjoying my morning baths,” she most pleasantly offers. “I trust it has not been too arduous for you.”

Her boot is being laved, the beast notes the long broad tongue extended well behind the lips. It is the oral appendage of a barnyard animal!

Meanwhile the Princess turns up her head and laughs skyward with her sardonic wit.

“Enough,” she commands as the rotation again takes the beast to the far perimeter of his limited
world.

Kendra returns from her shack bearing tools. Massive arms work to pound into the desert soil two posts. A section of canvas is strung between to form a lean-to and offer shade. The blanket is arranged. The Princess will lunch in relative coolness. Some twenty feet away, her beast will continuously labor in the scorching sun.

“Much weight, Kendra. Your bindings are wonderfully gothic,” the Princess compliments as she gracefully moves to sit.

“Thank you, your Highness.”

“Can you whip him for me? His deceitfulness is most deserving. I can’t bear the thought of him having a moment of comfort in my presence.”

“Of course, your Highness.”

As Kendra steps away to retrieve her quirt, the beast notes that the Princess parts the many folds of her attire and wriggles her finger. The naked servant smiles and springs from his kneeling position.

“Snipped at just the right age. Trained for nothing other than oral servitude. I am sure you’ve noted the reason for his unsurpassed loyalty.”

The Princess addresses her beast, speaking as she reaches to palm and caress the empty scrotal sac.

“Castrates seem to develop a bond with their castrator, my beast. There comes a curious adoration and they can become quite focused. It seems that the testosterone levels of the intact male causes diversion... amorous diversion... bringing disloyalty which ostensibly leads to pleasure. But in the end... much aggravation and frustration comes instead. Wouldn’t you agree?”

The Princess unfurls the tight empty sac... the vestiges of maleness. She assures that the beast notes her display of the altered organs then wickedly smiles, releasing her tender grasp. The naked servant eagerly dives to the blanket, lies prostrate and works his head between her knees and welcoming thighs... his goal more than evident.
“Yes, a fascinating level of devotion. My pleasure has vicariously become his.”

For some reason, the scene brings arousal. The beast slowly begins to stiffen, thoughts of that broad tongue exploring where he once had sole invitation.

Kendra returns, quirt in hand.

“He appears bored, Kendra. But he’s also becoming erect.”

“Yes, your Highness. It’s the chastity. And governing women seem to excite.”

“Well then there is no point is denying him much excitement. Slow and steady. I have wine... I have food... I have an energetic and well trained tongue to amuse me.”

Kendra applies a moderate beginning lash to the right buttock. The beast spasms in his bonds to alter the rhythmic chiming of his nipple bells. He hears laughter. He knows too well of the oral treat presented beneath the covering of white silk.

Though the quirt pains, he feels his penis throb with continuing engorgement.

Yes, the Princess will be well entertained.

1 comment:

Jane said...

I love the castrate! You have such an erotic way of describing your cherubs CB!