Chapter Nineteen - Whisked to Chessu

Chapter Nineteen

The morning light awakens. Despite the bondage, ankle bands secured to the pole, wrists restrained behind his back, 322 slept soundly. The weeks under the care of Dr. Saunders and the wicked nurses, strapped to a hospital bed, has brought acclimatization, mentally and physically, to thorough feminine control.

Midori steps from the back entrance of the hut. 322 cranes his neck to look upwards. He is amazed to see her completely nude and carrying a small basin. She smiles, noting his interest and, just as when training him to pull the ox cart, allows him to visually partake.

Lithe, not much more than 100 pounds, the compact breasts are firm, perfectly rounded, nipples of stone. 322 watches as she kneels to his left side, his head turning not to miss a moment of joyful gazing. In placing the basin close by, he notes it is half filled with cloudy water.

“We rarely have full baths or showers here, my beast,” Midoroi explains as her hand withdraws a soaked chamois.

A small most effeminate hand proceeds to sponge bathe. The girl is without shyness, washing face, arms, shoulders, making a teasing show of cleansing her breasts. Then the torso and legs, and finally she kneels more upright, parts her knees and swishes the warm softness about her mons, offering 322 a most libidinous viewing of her sex. With a few brisk few hand strokes between her cheeks, Midori deems herself cleansed. She arises to stand, displaying once again the entire expanse of her alluring naked form. She smiles in noting that 322 continues to gawk.

“Up!” she commands, her left had entwining in his hair to pull, the right hand pressing at his chest.

322 awkwardly returns to his knees as Midori reaches to the pole and attaches the cord to his neck band. She notes that her teasing ablutions have had the expected effect. The penis of 322 is firm and she knowingly smiles. In Chessu such tumescence is considered a form of tribute.

“You’ll need to urinate,” observes bending to pick up the wash basin. “And I’ll want you to empty your bowels for me. You’ll be in the sling most of the day.”

Midori approaches with the basin.

“Open. Water is not wasted here.”

Foamy, smelling of soap, tainted with the bodily fluids of sweat, vaginal essence, possible traces of excrement as well, Midori is strongly suggesting that her beast drink. There is horripilation as the basin is held to his lips. A pause.

Midori’s free left hand lowers and palms the scrotum, working to isolate the left gonad between thumb and index finger. She begins with a gentle tolerable squeeze.

“I will not pressure to the point of neutering you, 322. But I think you will surprise yourself in learning how much pain I can imbue without doing much physical harm.”

322 receives the message. He begins to sip.

“We learn the foibles of the male anatomy very young here in Chessu. I have been squeezing a man’s balls for many years. When taught at such an early age, most compunction is forever dispelled. And listening to a boy’s plaintive screams as the fingers tighten can become music... ”

Midori maintains her grip as the basin’s contents begin to drain.

“You’ll need the fluids. And the soap will soon have you moving your bowels for me.”

Basin emptied, Midori releases her grip, steps back, tenderly pats the cheek of her beast then moves to the hut. Within minutes she returns. 322 is disappointed to see she dons the white and red silk blouse. But with hem line just below the hips, she remains flashing her sex. And of course the finely shaped buttocks cannot be ignored. But then, in the right hand, 322 spots the brank... evil, horrid, such a simple device... yet bringing such slow unending torment.

“Please no,” the words inadvertently gush.

Midori laughs.

“You choose to speak. You have much to learn, 322. Keep violating the rule of silence and you’ll be branked more often than you care to endure. Anytime a beast is worked, not restrained, he is to be branked. It is the rule. While I await your bowel movement, we will practice. Tongue!”

With reluctance, 322 obediently thrusts forth the demanded appendage. Midori slips the slim rod into the left cheek grommet.

“Just a little more.”

322 complies further pressing outward with his tongue and the shaft easily slides through the opposing hole in his tongue and slides out the right grommet.

“Remember that tongue position. Now again.”

Midori slips out the brank and pauses. Then utters the command again. 322 thrusts, doing his best to position the tongue to where the brank can facilely penetrate cheek and tongue with a single effortless motion of Miss Midori’s hand.

“Better. One more time.”

The brank is slid away. Another pause then another command. The alignment is perfect. No trifling, no adjustment needed.

“Good. You’re learning obedience my beast. And learning to enjoy being under a woman’s control as well,” her fingers playfully abrading the forcibly protruding length of pink wetness.

Midori’s eyes move lower. She smiles in noting the erection. 322 protests the brank, but her tendance excites. The psychologist has again chosen well, she notes. Her beast will blossom well into the groveling, abject human animal which she... and all the women of Chessu... desire.

322 begins to fidget. The soapy water has churned the viscera. Midori returns to the hut and retrieves a bowl.

“You’ll learn to appreciate the close care and attention, 322. I’m going to keep you quite regular.”

The bowl is positioned. 322 is dispirited in watching Miss Midori slip the loops of the leash over the ends of the brank. As he empties himself, the neck collar is released then the ankle bands. Though he is tired, every muscle aching from disuse during his journey and stay at the hospital then rapid change to overexertion, Midori forces him to stand, drawing the leash and smiling in observing the instant response to the gentle motion of her dainty hand.

“A treat for you today. I am going to plug you to assure you stay nice and stiff for me. Then we’re off to the mine for your first of many, many loads. Today a light load... tomorrow more... then more the day after that. You’ll going to make me much money, 322. While I physically wear you down, my means will rise.”