Chapter Three - Whisked to Chessu

Chapter Three

Jay Blaine learns there is a limit to his penis’s ability to stay hard. The position of strappado, though not overly tight, certainly not about to bring dislocation, wears... physically and mentally.

Alone, in near darkness, barely able to move an inch without aggravating his circumstances, the guard’s ominous departing cackle echoes in his mind.

Yes, perhaps they will just let him starve, the life insurance an ample reward for intentional neglect.

Carefully, he shuffles about his feet to relieve cramping muscles, fully aware that to topple could bring the most agonizing pain imaginable.

Would he be able to right himself?

Minutes... hours... the time is immeasurable. His penis seems to continuously shrink. He notes that the organ no longer weeps fluid. But instead his eyes now do, the slowly growing pain not to be countered... certainly not to end... tears not to be stopped.

Then finally there comes the distant sound of footsteps. Boots forcefully greeting concrete. The sound of lesser footwear suggests a small entourage.

Suddenly the room is immersed in light... bright... beaming... seeming to place Jay Blaine on a stage, powerful spotlights trained on his stooped nakedness. Then opens the door and the sound of boots is no longer distant.

“Where I come from the naked male not only greets with a humble bow but also spreads his feet to properly display his balls.”

The voice is monotone and firm with a hint of an Asian accent. Jay Blaine meekly parts his feet. Greeting his nose is the scent of an aromatic cigar. A hand lowers and gently palms his testicles, the tender warmth feels good. There comes a slight squeeze and a soft laugh. Handling a man’s organs is deemed joyful.

“A wonderful stress position is it not Mr. Blaine? Makes a man quite happy to greet a woman of governance who can offer mercy... a degree of mercy.”

“Jay this is Madam Soong. She is here to inspect you,” Dr. Ann Simpson explains, the voice afar, apparently finding an unseen chair in a previously darkened corner.

The woman moves to his front, strolling casually, visually taking in every inch of well lit and exposed flesh. Then the small cigar greets the concrete floor and a booted foot extinguishes with an ardent and unfeminine crushing motion.

“He’s big... and strong... but we’ll make him stronger.”

“Six foot, three inches, 245 pounds,” the voice of Nurse Annika proclaims.

“Excellent,” the accented voice responds in a noted monotone.

Fingers of the left hand entwine in cranial hair and slowly lift. Jay grunts, the action further stressing his arms at the shoulders. He also notes in her right hand there is a length of rattan.

“Not a bad face, though it is of little matter. Has he been worked before? Exercised under the cane or whip?”

Jay looks upwards. The woman has short black hair, appears to be Chinese, and is very athletic. Loose, white blouse, tight black skirt, black leather boots, not effeminately pretty though far from plain, the face is instead more aptly described as handsome, hinting of a certain masculinity.

“No. A life of sexual profligacy is the only notable accomplishment. Has a thing for girl’s underwear. And though a prolific secretive masturbator, has recently found pleasure in exhibiting himself before women. The deviancy of most males transcends over time. Who knows, without proper feminine guidance, what lowly level this character’s perversion would reach.”

Madam Soong nods in understanding.

“Eight inches?”

“When fully erect,” Nurse Annika advises.

“Very nice. We have good surgeons. We have perfected a procedure which keeps a boy sizable but eliminates the... well let’s term it certain desires. The full penectomies became time consuming and expensive. And viewing and handling a good stiff penis gives the girls a certain sense of empowerment...”

Through her grip, Madam Soong feels Jay Blaine shudder in fear.

“Don’t be so apprehensive. I have not yet agreed to your procurement. I’ll want to see you erect. Then I will need to cane you. I purchase very expensive pieces of property... and I have not short changed myself yet.”

Madam Soong returns to his rear.

“I am going to release your thumbs. You will remain bent at the waist and lift your hands to place them on the back of your neck. As stated, there can be offered a modest degree of mercy.”

She taps his buttocks with the cane. Though a most moderate stroke, the instant searing pain, so different from the hours of strappado, sends a message. The woman is to be obeyed.

Jay Blaine’s heart leaps with joy as he feels fingers working about the small clasps which so effectively connect the encircling hose clamps and hold him in place. When freed he draws his hands to his head, knowing the cane awaits any mischief.

“Yes, I’ll want you erect. Then I’ll have you dance for me. I enjoy watching a boy dance. Perhaps you will sing for me as well.”

Jay Blaine shudders anew as the clasps are reconnected to his thumb rings.

“You cannot dance for me stooped over,” a dour Madam Soong decrees as she moves to the wall and the opposing end of the rope. She draws upwards.

Helplessly, Jay Blaine’s hands rise... and rise... the rope is tied off as he finds himself struggling onto his toes. Fear, vulnerability... yet there is the presence of an authoritative woman... he is displayed naked... before an entire audience of authoritative women... that which is known to excite... yes, there comes the brisance.

Jay Blaine stiffens.