Chapter Sixteen - Whisked to Chessu

Chapter Sixteen

Midori leads in silence. One mile, two. It is difficult to measure in the nothingness of the desert. No trees. Certainly no water. Instead there are stones, coarse sandy soil, with larger rocks pushed aside to form the outline of a crude trail. But there are the comely bare hillocks of she with leash hand and 322 can feel his resulting erection bob with every step.

He notes there are wheel marks in some softer segments of road. Nothing to denote the tires of a modern vehicle, just the smooth continuous lines formed by wooden wheels. In some areas the wheel marks are many, the path well traversed.

Finally there comes into sight a set of one story buildings. Mud and stone, in erecting the hovels 322 pictures the many tons of material conveyed by the sweat of well bound naked males. The crude horizontal log beams supporting the roofs suggest long trips to the forests of the far off mountains. Nothing grows within eyesight.

Midori stops before an unassuming structure, really just a hut. Nearby is a heavy cart... more aptly described as an ox cart. A large pair of wooden wheels, the likes of such evidently making the marks in the dusty path, support a wooden box of thick planks. It is sturdy and 322 envisions the vehicle overloaded with building materials, harvested farm goods or perhaps more recently the valuable ore of the Rhodium mine.

Hanging on an outside wall of the hut are a series of familiar leashes, the split ends offering loops for snaring a brank, long strands of some type of marsh grass, lumps of cylindrical black rubber and a length of leather. The clasp used to attach the latter garment to a wrought iron hook evidences to 322 that it is a sling, similar to that which Moira used to demonstrate the harnessing of a Chessu beast days before.

Midori carefully ties off the leash to an extending overhead beam, truncating any thoughts of resistance. She removes the sling from the wall hook.

“There are a few hours of daylight. It will be easier for you to learn to pull the cart while empty. Tomorrow I must work you. There is much ore to be taken to the airstrip.”

Just as with Moira, Midori clips the one end of the sling to the steel waist band at the belly. Then she slips her right hand through a small slit and, in place of grasping his penis as did Moira, she instead hooks a finger through 322's new Prince Albert ring. After the demonstration of his manhood’s new sensitivity, 322 is grateful. Dr. Saunders’ final alteration is indeed found to be an appreciated gift as the finger draws the super sensitive acid bathed shaft through the slit with limited touching required.

More deft then Moira, obviously having many times harnessed the beast of her mother, the sling is quickly drawn up between the thighs and slipped under the waist band at the back. Midori then rummages about to pull the balls of 322 through a larger slit at the rear. As she tugs at the loose segment of sling folded over the back of the waist band, the well stretched scrotal sac of 322 is pulled back and up to rest just below the buttocks. A teasing hand gently pats the sizable reproductive organs, so ignominiously displayed.

“You’ve been well stretched, 322. Your balls present very well.”

322 blushes with the tender touch of the youthful girl, once again experiencing the odd sense of comfort in having his low hanging gonads so tolerably supported. And as Midori tightens, the firming of the sling seems to augment the sensation.

Next 322 hears a click and feels his wrist bands released. Then the small tender hands of his handler draw the right wrist upwards, pressing at the elbow to signal the arm to bend. With his hand at the shoulder blades, 322 hears another click and feels his wrist band reattached, now to the back of his neck collar.

The left hand and wrist follow.

Midori steps to the outer wall of the hut and slips a strand of marsh grass from a hook. Her arm extends to swing the length through the air creating a modest ‘swishing’ sound. 322 notes the wispy blossom end of the strand is well frayed, splitting into dozens of very fine strands.

“You’ll not want to hear that sound often 322.”

Midori smiles, returns to her tethered charge and raises her arm to swing once more. Again comes the ‘swish’ ending when the frayed strands come to rest on the pink flesh of the well exposed scrotal sac. 322 howls into his gagging brank, shocked that the burning pain is so out of proportion to the modest stroke and gentle thwack.

“A rather effective instrument of encouragement, would you not agree 322? This marsh grass grows at Chessu’s only source of water... the lowest point in the valley where the underground aquifer fed by the mountain snows nears the surface. More of a small swamp than lake or pond, the grass blossoms to offer wondrous stinging types of nettles. We have lots of testicles to excoriate here in Chessu... so we grow lots of grass,” the girl chuckling for the first time.

Midori releases the leash as she lectures, keeping her instrument of ‘encouragement’ in her right hand as she jostles the leash with the left in suggesting that motion begin.

322 quickly learns that with a good handler, so little is required to spur exertion. Just watching the slack being taken in is enough of a signal to begin his footwork. For in addition to tension on the brank, his well exposed testicles offer themselves to Chessu’s nastiest vegetation. Quickly dissipating is any thought of a tardy response to his handler’s desires.

And so 322 follows quickly and quietly to the ox cart. There he is positioned between two prongs, designed for the absent ox. His steel waist band is loosely attached to short chains, connected left and right to the prongs. But then Midori works to his rear, unraveling the loose end of his sling and buckling such to the front edge of the cart. This restraint she tightens and for 322 that comfortable sensation of support increases. The tightened sling also serves to better thrust forth his penis, jutting through the smaller slit to the front.

When finished, Midori releases the leash, steps back and surveys, exuding a sense of pride. Her beast, the Empress’s gift, stands so well secured, erection stiff and growing stiffer, sizable stretched testicles forcibly displayed just below the buttocks.

But what is of most consolation... her beast, deep within, enjoys the intense humiliation... she knows it... she has handled so many... from the time she was a little girl. Bondage... a firm, governing woman excites. It spurs the virility, musters the hormonal response which will in turn spur the desire to serve his handler... she with directing leash hand and encouraging swishes of devilish vegetation.

Yes, the psyche of the subservient male is telling, as her mother so often explained... and can be put to such good use.

“Your penis tells me why you are here, 322. Chessu is a special place for males of your predilection. I will make you happy. But more importantly... you will be worked very hard and make me happy.”