Saturday, November 13, 2010

Chapter Thirty - Whisked to Chessu

Chapter Thirty

Under the door jam, beams of early morning sunlight bring limited illumination to the windowless hut. 322 feels his master stir, her grazing warmth transitioning to an outright rub of her smooth flesh. She shifts, drawing her nakedness against his as her ravishing body glides towards his head. 322 is thrilled when a breast is incidentally offered to his restrained hand. It is momentary. He feels her warmth shift more.

He sees a hand reach over his shoulder. The brank, it is slowly slid from cheek and tongue.

“Roll my beast. It is Sunday and I wish to sleep a little longer.”

Brank removed, Miss Midori’s warmth slips away. 322 then feels hands guide and assist. With ankles secured together, wrists remaining behind the back, an obedient 322 awkwardly rolls indeed. The removal of the blanket brings wafts of cool room air.

“Drink... lick me clean... then feast. A little treat for you.”

322 is heartened to watch as his lord and master returns, moving with grace to straddle his supine form, feet at his shoulders. He stares upwards. With thighs parted there is offered an unfettered view of her luscious pinkness. Her knees bend and her mons lowers to greet his lips. A well trained 322 knows to open his mouth and begin the arduous oral service demanded. Within moments a night’s build up of excretions begins to flow and he happily partakes.

It is his duty.

Then Miss Midori further lowers to lie flat, her smooth warmth now pressing his chest, her head at his lower belly. The blanket is drawn over and it becomes evident more rest is intended as 322 cleanses then begins the slow, attentive cunnilingus which Miss Midori has exactingly taught.

As a tongue parts the inner labia and sensuously thrusts, 322 feels warm, soft fingers return to the mass of his well stretched scrotal sac. Another hand slips between the osculating bodies and tenderly kneads his right nipple. He imagines her touch to be his reward, and indeed his lips purse to assure heightened pleasure and earn more... his tongue swirling to thrill the feminine bud, just as a demanding Miss Midori instructed.

Miss Midori begins to purr... like a contented cat... and 322 knows not to waver in his efforts. Minutes later, he is surprised when the motion of her rewarding hands stops. She sleeps, the warm wetness of her subjugated beast’s mouth and tongue offering sublime comfort.

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Miss Midori stirs anew. 322, never stopping his oral efforts, renews the fervor, having feasted indeed on the juices his efforts have spurred. The beams of sunlight have shifted, telling 322 it is well into the morning as he senses oscillations, the insatiable genitalia finally reaching an orgasmic apex. There comes a sigh then a repressed shriek of joy and 322's mouth receives a deluge of feminine juices. He swallows greedily... pridefully.

“Enough,” comes the succinct command.

322 stills his efforts and is disappointed to feel Miss Midori roll from atop his supine nakedness.

The room is warmer, the intense late morning desert sun returning heat to the storm cooled arid province. The door is opened flooding the one room hut with light, and illuminating the wondrous completely naked form of his idol and master. His eyes now feast as did his tongue and lips.

“I am going stress you for a few hours. It is best for males like you. Deep within you enjoy. Then it will time to go to the palace. The Emperor is to be milked.”

“Tongue.”

Of course the brank returns, he’ll never move without it in place. That he has come to understand.

Ankle bands released, 322 exits the hut as he entered, shuffling somewhat upright on knees with a controlling hand guiding the brank. His balls swinging heavily, Midori reaches back and applies a playful pat, evidencing the thoroughness of her governance and ownership.

At the tethering pole, Midori raises her hand and the brank mandates that he rise from his knees and stand. Within seconds he is secured standing on the small box.... neck band, waist band, ankle bands. Then comes the beginning of the slow, barely tolerable stress as a dainty foot pushes the support out from under. 322 dangles, again at the caprice of a woman.

He gazes in admiration at his naked idol, standing arms akimbo, she in turn enjoying the view... for her beast, engorged by way of the stimulation of oral servitude, stiffens even more, his Prince Albert ring rising to touch his lower belly.

“Yes, 322, you truly enjoy. Dr. Ann Simpson, Madam Soong, they so very much understand the psyche of males like you.”

He knows not to ask for how long he will be suspended, but does murmur into the brank, hinting that, in being held stationary, it be removed.

“No my, beast. The brank remains. Remember... feminine caprice...”

Midori steps to the hut and returns with a half filled basin and chamois. 322 is once again the beneficiary of the teasing show, Midori laving the soapiness everywhere, face, shoulders, arms, the most enticing breasts, torso, legs and finally her sex and gluteal cleft.

322 thinks to himself... could she not do this out of sight... in the hut? The display of her feminine charms, though rather clinically presented, is thorough, every inch of flesh exposed to his adoring gaze.

Is it intentional? It has been suggested that he will bond, transform to a puppy which will soon learn all existence is by way of his master’s grace. That he will become a loyal beast... understanding that he owes all to the lithe 100 pounds of Miss Midori... owner... care giver... woman of caprice... but a protector... saver of his life in dauntlessly confronting lightning.

Miss Midori finishes her ablutions, carefully picking up the small basin.

“For you my beast,” she offers stepping to the small box.

The mouth of 322 seeps with the divine aftertaste of the unending cunnilingus. He savors, but must drink as Midori works the brank to properly position his mouth then slowly pours, not spilling a drop. By now 322 has learned to open his throat, precisely timing swallows impeded by his entrapped tongue as Midori in turn knows to pause to await the telltale motion of his Adam’s apple.

Finished, she releases the brank and steps from the box.

“Just a few hours... then I will have you kneel for me.”

Heartless, relieving his stress by placing him in another stress position. But it is part of the training. Despite the cruelty he remains erect... and he is coming to understand.

1 comment:

JHoltgym said...

ahhhhhh......a lovely Sunday morning in Chessu....what more could an enslaved male wish for?