Chapter Twenty Five - Whisked to Chessu

Chapter Twenty Five

For each of the following five nights, 322 is so cruelly marked. Yet the trauma does not relieve him of his base duties. Rhodium is transported daily, Midori needing to exchange his toil for the script required for food and supplies. As his load increases, the pile of currency remaining after each late afternoon visit to the market becomes fatter. Midori is accumulating wealth... and doing so on the sweat of her beast. This seems to bring added joy... over and above the exhilaration of unfettered control over the naked male... the application of intense pain... and the tender unending cunnilingus of bedtime.

322 has come to learn that the scarcity of water... really the constraint of pumping it from the ground utilizing the meager labor of castrates... foiled escapees... means he is to be hydrated by way of a woman’s urethra. Other than the morning offering of bath water, soapy and having laved every inch of Midori’s femininity... there seems to be an instilled protocol that beasts are to be watered by way of a woman’s bladder... and no fluid goes to waste.

And so 322 many times finds his leash offered to a stranger, and just as with the gruff woman at the mine, he is forced to imbibe while hands control his brank and a given bladder casually drains into his throat and stomach... at the mine... at the airstrip... at the market. It is all he tastes other than that partaken during oral servitude and at bath time.

For the first time in many nights, 322 sleeps without the unconsciousness of intense pain first beckoning slumber. He is glad to have the required procedure completed and is surprised with the careful attention afforded his healing buttocks. There is to be no infection.

On this morning, Midori makes a show of douching herself, assuring that every drop of cleansing, soothing water dribbles back into a bowl placed most proximate to 322's face.

“It is Friday, my beast. Nurse Wendy comes to the airstrip and cares for the Empress’s herd of truckling males.”

Midori speaks as she finishes her task, 322 somewhat disappointed to be deprived of the detailed view of that he is privileged to service.

“So you’ll not be visiting the mine today. We take good care of our beasts here in Chessu. We want long lives of servitude... many years of torment and hard labor. It is best for you.”

Slim hands, those which provide all, assist in righting 322 from his prostrate sleeping position. His neck collar is hooked to a cord to assure he remains kneeling upright. Then Midori retrieves the bowl... filled with water, cleansing solution and traces of her feminine juices... and presents the brim to 322's waiting lips.

He knows to drink.

“So you will be obedient with Nurse Wendy. She is here to help you better serve.”

322's penis is directed and he empties himself into a basin. Next his bowels move and Midori begins the daily ritual of branking, leashing, slipping his organs into the devilish sling. The ring of a stout anal plug, mark ‘No. 7' is slipped onto the leather sling then the attached rubber lump is deftly inserted into his rectum. Pulled taut, 322, feels himself impaled, a woman once again choosing to manipulate the prostate, his curious male organ, in order to abet his erection. She then hitches him to the ox cart, placing several bags into the storage box, muttering the word ‘garbage’. 322 heartens to find that the load is light.

“Come,” the simple word, so softly offered, taken as a dire command.

Toward the airstrip, 322 pulls and adores the sight of the tempting uncovered buttocks. Such thoughtful evidence of a female dominant society, 322 comes to realize, the women freely displaying their charms knowing that the bound and kept male is not only helpless to indulge, but that such spurs the lust... triggers the penis... brings the well restricted tumescence... that which so much enthralls and amuses she controlling the leash.

And sure enough, having been semi firm as Midori positioned his ringed penis through the slit of the sling, he feels himself slowly come to full stand, ‘No. 7' fulfilling its appointed task. Humiliated... but pleased in knowing it will please his handler.

Midori glances back and notices the slow change. She smiles.

“Nurse Wendy will want you stiff as well, 322. Do not lose your erection.”

There comes a turn, Midori ever so gently guiding the leash to detour from the path to the airstrip. The duo ascend a slight incline and in reaching the apex, a foul odor fills the air. A sizable building greets the nose, the sound of humming machinery greets the ears.

“The swill plant, 322, where our garbage is putrefied, ground into mush, mixed with nutrients and packaged... for you... and the other beasts.”

Midori removes the bags from the storage box and tosses such into waiting bin.

“Some day we will tour. The machinery is powered by castrates, just as at the water plant. Rather inefficient utilizing the effete altered male, but they respond well to the whip, and have little will other than to labor and obey.”

Midori smiles in observing the trembling reaction, the male so emotionally encumbered by the thought of losing the precious male eggs... something a governing woman can so easily snip.

“Yes, escape... attempted escape... has its consequences, 322... but so does defying the Empress. She is demanding with her many beasts, but I will train you to meet her demand, her one unpretentious quest of the subjugated male.”

Midori steps closer. The back of her left hand, stinging swamp grass in her grasp, smooths the branked cheek. Her touch feels good. Then her right hand, bearing the leash, lowers and for the first time in days, deliberately diddles the overly sensitive underside of the upstanding penis. The sting is immediate and 322 winces.

“This must stand in her presence... always. Failure means a visit with Dr. Saunders and an unending existence of processing garbage. I have waited a lifetime for my own beast, 322. I do not want to lose the favor of your straining muscles and ardent tongue.”

322 trembles anew, Midori’s words becoming food for much thought as she steps and her leash hand guides beast and ox cart to the airstrip.