Saturday, September 18, 2010

Chapter Ten

The Anguished E

Tony’s Story

Chapter Ten

My new guardians deemed college to be superfluous to my duties.

“With education comes pride,” Brandy noted.

“I need a humble housekeeper. You’ll stay at home. I’ll work.”

Pat also pointed out that attending courses did not correlate with my deemed legal status, ‘non compos mentis’.

So as autumn approached, I just laid about the pool each day, waiting for my new guardians to arrive home from a photo shoot or modeling session. Sometimes there was enough time in the day for them to swim and if Dr. Stella and Nurse Annika remained busy tending to patients, Brandy would find the silk blindfold and hand the rubber tubing to a smiling Pat.

Pat became more involved in my care and Nurse Annika showed her the various steps in caring for the infibulated male.

First demonstrating cutting and removing the nasty thin wire, the nurse explained that caution must be taken in slipping the rough ends out of the pierced foreskin. Then demonstrating that drawing back and pinching the foreskin with deliberate firmness impedes erection while the building smegma is removed.

“Most of these randy chaste males will still tumefy. I consider it to be defiance which must be dealt with quickly.”

Yes, as soon as she released my organ it would harden.

And with that Nurse Annika would lift her right arm well up and to her left and then swiftly swing her hand sideways, applying the back of her finger tips to the extreme tip of my engorging manhood. The pain from such a blow was like that of a whip..., sharp and stinging..., and it would instantly curtail my erection, bringing a smile of satisfaction to Nurse Annika and bringing my penis once again well under her control.

Pat would giggle.

Most humiliating were the times when Nurse Annika deemed it time to massage my prostate. At age eighteen, one can imagine how much fluid accumulated in the glands of a chaste male after a week of complete chastity. And the nurse considered it all hers to be harvested.

With two fingers deeply penetrating my rectum and her free hand vigorously kneading my perineum, Nurse Annika worked and Pat watched as my incredibly erect phallus helplessly pointed skyward while my male essence, clear fluid turning white when the sperm ducts released their contents, streamed down my dark brown shaft. Nurse Annika explained the process and taught Pat the essentials.

“When the fluid returns to clearness that means he’s drained of sperm. You’ll notice he experiences more frustration from the process than pleasure. As mandated no climactic release is permitted, though he will feel a glow from the hormonal release. Afterwards he’ll be quite docile and obedient.”

Pat listened carefully with that devilish smile, seeming to be patiently awaiting her turn.

Afterwards, Pat was taught the simple procedure of threading a new wire through my prepuce, twisting the ends to an uncomfortable level of tightness, then clamping the dated disk over the results as a final attest to my renewed chastity.

Finally, the day came to move to Brandy’s new home. Box after box of Brandy’s possessions were loaded into a truck while I was kept out of sight basking about the pool. When it came time Pat clipped a leash to my neck collar, connected my elbow bands behind my back and led me to the limousine. There, Brandy awaited in the back. The leash was unclipped and Pat quickly snipped and removed my infibulating wire.

I stepped into the rear of the car and for the first time in many years I was alone with Brandy with my penis freed of its simple but effective bondage. My psyche found her proximity to be stimulating. I felt like a puppy greeting its owner.

As the large white vehicle pulled out of Dr. Stella’s long driveway, she fascinatingly watched my manhood engorge. It proceeded to stand for her so proudly..., and I in turn was so proud to be the object of her attention and to amuse her. I was reminded of the early years frolicking naked about the pool with Brandy mandating my tumescence.

I looked out the window as Pat turned the long automobile onto the street. A Salvation Army truck was parked in front of the house. My clothing made for a very generous donation and two grateful workers were emptying Dr. Stella’s house of everything I owned. Brandy could not think of any reason to keep anything.

Pat drove at a leisurely pace. The lumbering moving van which would meet us at the new house had her Ferrari in tow and therefore speed was not necessary. We headed east on a freeway which surprised me. I always pictured Brandy as gravitating toward the ocean. Instead we headed inland and through the windshield I spied the San Gabriel mountains ahead.

Then Brandy slipped off her shoes and pointed downward.

“Let’s put that nice tongue to work.”

For the remainder of the trip, my view was limited to Brandy’s feet as I gave her toes a very meticulous cleansing and massage with lips and tongue. Serving Brandy was curiously stimulating. My phallus stayed erect for the entire trip and Brandy giggled with my struggling attempts to grasp it with elbows restrained.

I was applying long laps to Brandy’s calves when the car turned and I felt the limousine’s engine strain. We began to traverse a long incline and after some twenty minutes turned again. The road became bumpy and I heard stones pinging against the undercarriage.

Finally the auto stopped. The rear door opened and Pat immediately reached in and clipped the leash unto my neck band. I was incredibly erect, excited with the prospect of having my tongue service Brandy’s charms as I worked my way up her legs. She was not wearing undergarments and as always her scent excited.

“New rules, Tony. Whenever you’re not within the compound you’re to be leashed and you’re not to move unless led by someone.”

Brandy was unusually firm in vocalizing her command. I nodded as Pat tugged and I stepped out the door.

I was greeted by a magnificent view of the Mojave desert to the east. Brandy’s huge new home was perched on a mountain top with the nearest highpoint about a mile to the west. It was hot but dry and there was not a cloud to be seen. The landscape was arid and other than some cactus like vegetation near the house, the yard, surrounded by a high wooden fence, was of compacted beige soil. Pat had parked adjacent to a large gate. A sign above, mounted on twelve foot high posts, read ‘The Anguished E’. The bright paint indicated it was new.

Pat pushed a button on a hand held remote control device and a gate clicked open.


Brandy pushed the unlocked gate and stepped through, holding it open for Pat who led me as required, my many bells chiming with each step. She closed the gate and I looked back to see a dozen rows of horizontal exposed wires strung on the inside of the eight foot high white wooden fence. The fence and the wiring ran to my right and left for some hundred yards then each section turned and disappeared behind the house.

“The former owner raised horses. The fence is electrified and continues behind the house for quite a distance. There’s plenty of land here.”

I was walked up toward the house to the sound of my tiny bells and the soft clanking of my many gold chains. The single story structure was set on the highest point of the property. I glanced about and noticed that not only were there no other houses to be seen, there were no signs of anything manmade as far as I could see.

We stepped through the front door.

“You’re going to spend some time in the basement until the movers are through, Tony.”

The house was neither old nor new but before I could acclimate myself I was led to the basement. The sound of the arriving moving van curtailed any further inspection.

Pat opened a door and led me down a flight of stairs. There another door awaited. It was comprised of concrete and framed in thick steel. Though resting on large, lubricated hinges, the well developed muscles of my guardian still strained to pull it open. Within was frightening darkness.

“Built as a bomb shelter during the fifties,” explained the holder of my leash. “This and the seclusion of the location are really what sold us on the place.”

She led me downward, continuing to gently tug.

In reaching the bottom her free hand flicked a switch to light the room. The ceiling was high indicating that a deep basement could easily be dug in the desert without concerns about ground water. But my attention was quickly diverted. The large room was filled with paraphernalia, obviously recently equipped. I could not discern the purpose of many of the devices but an examination table, an exact replica of the ones in Dr. Stella’s office, caught my eye, breaking what was otherwise a sea of darkly stained wood covered with black leather.

Numerous cords and chains hung from beams in the ceiling.

“No time for a tour, Tony. Have to help with the move. Step over here. On your toes.”

As I complied, Pat removed the leash from my neck collar and clipped it to my nose ring. She then raised her hands and looped my leash to a hook hanging from above.

“You’re really going to like it here.”

She gently diddled the underside of my semi-erect penis causing it to twitch then returned to the stairs leaving me standing naked, elbows secured behind my back. Her knowing touch was enough to bring renewed firmness. The leash, connecting my nose ring to the overhead chain, forced me to remain on my toes. She turned out the lights and I stood in complete darkness. Her brief manipulation stirred my excited organ. I believe it rose and remained erect. In the utter blackness it was difficult to determine its stiffness with certainty.

I could not hear or see anything. The former bomb shelter was the equivalent of a large concrete box embedded in the ground beneath the level of a normal basement. Not even the sounds of heavy boxes and furniture being moved penetrated the depths and the hardened ceiling and walls.

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