Thursday, October 7, 2010

Epilogue II Tony

Epilogue II - Tony

I stand at the foot of Ms. Brandy’s four poster bed. My elbow rings are clipped together behind my back but for the first time in many months my ankle chain has been removed. I await Ms. Pat who speaks as I hear zippers and the rustle of clothing.

“This is a big day for you, Tony. You have a decision to make.”

Water is running in the adjoining bathroom. Ms. Brandy is taking a late afternoon shower and I am disheartened that she does not have me assisting her, as I have almost daily since we moved to the ranch some three years ago.

“Can you step up on the box for me?”

Ms. Pat always structures her commands politely. She speaks authoritatively and I know that I am to humbly step up on the box or I will find myself strapped to the whipping bench in the correction room. As I comply she moves into view. She is naked and normally when I am afforded a glimpse of her finely chiseled and well muscled form it is when she is buckling on her strap on harness and attaching a mammoth dildo.

With her nearness, my penis begins to engorge. Ms. Brandy has kept me chaste and except for the traumatic prostate massages by way of Ms. Pat’s strap on, I have not been relieved of my male essence in years. I prepare myself mentally for the pain of the infibulating wire. Ms. Pat moves to my side and watches with a smile as my glans attempts its escape. She reaches with her hand.

“It never stops trying, does it?” she observes in a mocking tone.

She holds wire cutters. Nurse Annika uses them for my Saturday morning inspection and cleansing. Otherwise the wire constantly keeps my prepuce tightly wrapped about my penis tip, making erection painfully impossible.

“You’re going to put on a nice stand for us?”

She coos as if addressing a young child. I look down to see a powerful right hand reach to my wire and snip it. Her left carefully pulls. The cut end of the wire can be sharp. Gratefully it slides out without scraping my most sensitive skin.

I am free! And Nurse Annika is not present to swat my rising phallus to detumescence.

“Oh, that’s very good Tony. I had forgotten how big a boy you were.”

I look down to see my neglected manhood rise. Incredibly, she snips again!

The gold ring that has circled my right gonad and served to separate and slowly stretch my scrotum falls free. Ms. Pat unhooks the decorative yet strong chains that connect the ring to my thigh band and to the back of my waist band.

She does the same with the ring around my left testicle. For the first time in years I feel nothing binding or entrapping my genitals. My penis celebrates with a stiffness I do not recall ever experiencing. Ms. Pat giggles.

“Brandy will be very pleased, Tony.”

My hands lurch. I am very much aware that my restrained elbows will not allow me to touch my penis, but the reaction is inveterate. I so much need to stroke myself.

Ms. Pat giggles again, leans over and blows on the incredibly sensitive tip. It waggles in response and she laughs.

“So sensitive. It’s worth the years of chastity just to watch it stand up and dance.”

She steps away with the gold chains, rings and the attached bells and jewelry. My eyes follow the naked form of a finely exercised body. No where near the size of Ms. Erma, Ms. Pat has the athleticism of a gymnast..., compact yet powerful. I cannot fault Ms. Brandy for partaking in her charms..., sleeping in each other’s arms..., delving into the world of Sapphos while I humbly lick and service between her rounded globes.

Ms. Pat returns with cords. She loosely ties my neck collar to the right bed poster then does the same to the left. With her proximity, her warm skin feels divine and visions of the many evenings when she painfully sodomized my rectum do not stop my arousal. She is a powerful woman whose physical strength projects impressive dominance.

“Just to make sure you don’t run off.”

Two more cords are connected to my thigh bands then tied to the bed posters right and left forcing apart my legs. Ms. Pat palms my low hanging scrotal sac, stretched over the years by the constant pressure of the gold chains. Just having it move about freely feels good, but her warm hand is exquisite. My erection twitches. My hips lurch attempting to frottage my stiffness against her skin.

“You are a randy one, Tony. Well we’re going to take care of that.”

My heart leaps. Surely I have been at long last freed to masturbate!

The sound of running water ceases. My beloved Ms. Brandy steps from the bathroom. She is also without clothing and having showered has her hair wrapped in a towel..., otherwise her entire amazingly alluring body is exposed to my gaze. Now in her mid twenties, her modeling career has diminished but her beauty has not. She has matured with an attractiveness that wonderfully transcends the cute girlish prettiness once desired by the agencies and clothing designers.

She is a woman. A dominant woman whose beauty sucks the oxygen from the room.

She looks at me standing on the makeshift pedestal some eight inches above the carpet. The purple tip of my penis seems to touch the ceiling. She smiles with a coy look of admiration, knowing that I am erect only because she has permitted my long entrapped penis to be freed. For many years the organ has been hers to control and she has so sternly exercised her authority.

“Happy to see me, Tony?”

She laughs with her purloined ‘Mae West’ line. Ms. Pat joins her.

“Well, you’re going to have a big decision to make this afternoon.”

She holds up strands of thin wire.

“Madam Chang’s recommended method for alteration. It seems in Chessu they don’t squander medical talent when it comes to a procedure as simple as castration.”

My ebullience sinks. But my penis stays erect despite the threatening tone and shocking words.

“Firmly around each nut..., just above where his rings were.”

Ms. Brandy hands the strands to Ms. Pat who accepts the simple but evil lengths with a look of Schadenfreude.

Each wire ends with a loop. As Ms. Pat slips one over my right gonad and tenderly pulls, the loop closes. A small slip knot has been carefully fabricated at the end. I do indeed detect the diabolism of Madam Chang.

“Make sure it encircles the nerves, sperm ducts and vessels, Pat.”

She complies by kneading my sac with thumb and forefinger, dutifully ensuring that the small loop is slightly pressing the suggested cords. When finished the free end of the wire is hitched to the bed post. She ties it with more tautness then the cords strung on my neck collar and thigh bands.

Ms. Brandy watches while vigorously drying her hair with the towel. Despite Ms. Pat’s menacing digits working about my precious organs I cannot help but stare with rapt fascination as Ms. Brandy’s perfectly formed breasts jiggle with the action of her hands.

Ms. Brandy steps forward and jogs the wire, testing its tension.

“Yes that should do it.”

She nods and Ms. Pat’s fingers gather up my left testicle and likewise loop the wire around it.

“It’s your twenty first birthday, Tony. And I have a gift for you..., the gift of freedom.., should you choose to accept it. To be freed of that nasty unfulfilled male need that has so driven you since puberty.”

I had forgotten my birthday. Days went uncounted at the ranch. The drudgery of maid service was only punctuated by being with Ms. Brandy, serving her with lips and tongue. The calendar has been meaningless.

Ms. Pat steps away but remains on my left side looking at my incredible stiffness. Ms. Brandy approaches and stands on my right. Her index finger reaches and gently diddles the underside of the moist and purple frenulum. I cannot before remember her ever actually touching me there. Again my heart jumps..., with arousal..., with desire..., with, as Ms. Brandy suggested, a male need that desperately needs to be fulfilled.

“For the first time you’re going to have a choice. I know you want to serve me. And I think you will better perform without these diverting your efforts.”

Her index finger caresses my testicles, separated widely through the years of being stretched apart within the sac by the gold rings pulled by the chains leading to the thigh bands..., now separated by the semi taut wires.

“So if you truly want to bring about my pleasure, you’ll forever forget about your own and concentrate on mine.”

She pauses and again diddles. I can feel fluid streaming from my urethra. My nose detects the wonderfully familiar scent of female arousal. Ms. Pat and Ms. Brandy look at each other with knowing glimpses. Normally such silent communication is followed by a session of sodomy with the strap on..., but not this afternoon.

Ms. Brandy moves to the bed and sits. My penis waggles for more of her touch. She laughs and positions herself facing me with her legs parted. Her perfect form seems to glow in the fading light of the setting sun. The fine pinkness of her genitalia flashes into view. I began to salivate. I want to taste her.

“All you have to do Tony is step off the box. There will be an instant of intense pain and then the loops of the wires will tighten and crush the nerves. The circulation will be cut off and within a couple of hours your testicles will be useless. No more nasty testosterone flowing and interfering with your naturally submissive psyche. You’ll serve better. You’ll almost be one of us.”

As if on cue, Ms. Pat joins Ms. Brandy on the bed, lowering her head to kiss the marvelous breasts for which I have forever pined to touch.

Ms. Brandy sighs with the pleasure of Ms. Pat’s lips. I know her unseen tongue flutters on nipples which beg for attention.

“Mom will later remove your balls before they wither and become gangrenous. I think I'll put them in formaldehyde, perhaps to use them as a paper weight. For the removal I will permit anesthesia. But this afternoon I want to see the full scope of your devotion...., just one step. Accept the moment of anguish for me. Then Pat will remove the box and you’ll entertain us with a divine and leisurely castration, the wires slowly depriving your organs of circulation. This evening we will celebrate.”

Ms. Pat’s head moves downward, kissing Ms. Brandy’s mons. Then her fingers tenderly open her labia to expose to my gaze more of the wondrously fine genitalia of the most beautiful woman I have ever known. She turns her head back to look at me as I struggle. I wince as the wires tighten ever so slightly with my motion. Both women smile wickedly with my reaction, knowing that my lust is uncontrollable. I need to feel the warmth of my Mistress, to taste her femininity. I want to be placed under a strap-on-wielding Ms. Pat, her powerful thighs thrusting while I service and give pleasure.

Ms. Pat settles down. Ms. Brandy lies back. The completely naked women become intertwined, beginning the sordid dance of Lesbos as I helplessly watch. Ms. Pat grinds her finely shaped thigh into Ms. Brandy’s sex bringing a moan of ecstasy.

It is evident that the planned slow strangulation of my reproductive organs will spur the lust of the beautiful women of governance. The naked daughters of Sapphos will bring each other to climax as my testicles struggle to remain functioning. And in the end, the struggle will be in vain..., deep within I want it to be in vain. Yes, my most coveted organs will serve as jarred mementos..., to bring wicked knowing smiles to regal women of superior strength, mental and physical, as such are displayed to me for amusement..., nothing more than reminders of a life of conflicted devotion.

“Just take the step, Tony. Then you may join us.”


Anonymous said...

why do none of your story's have happy endings

Chris Bellows said...

I would conjecture that the level of happiness depends on the character and his/her perspective.