Friday, July 29, 2011

Some stuff Available at Femdom Cave

In view of the MC/Visa censorship debacle, Pink Flamingo has arranged for some of my stuff to be offered by FemDom Cave. See the link at the left.

'96 Months' XXII

No posts over the weekend. I will be working to complete this story... the difficulty augmented by the fact that I am working on another book.


"Ten, it’s your turn."

Here was trouble. The Latino never got synchronized with the Princess. She became visibly upset but said nothing. But as hard and erect as he was, he couldn’t pull the trigger. The Princess just glared down at him.

"Let’s go to Nine. And by the way if we get a good sample, it will be used right here."

She pointed to the blonde as she spoke.

The crowd cheered and all commented that the Nordic should be able to sire blonde offspring. And obviously if a girl were reproduced, she would be well endowed and if a boy, well hung.

The show ended with the Nordic coming on cue and the crowd toasted the Princess on her birthday.

Most of the crowd went back to the house. Some of the men stayed and, in being enthralled by the blonde’s large, well exposed vaginal passage fingered it with great enthusiasm.

As we left the stable the Princess took Lantita aside.

"Bring Ten to my office well chained. I’ll deal with him tomorrow. The Countess will be spending the night and I’ll have something to entertain her."

Lantita nodded and I shuddered to think of Ten’s fate in embarrassing the Princess before her friends.

I continued to serve drinks. All were getting tipsy and Rex again cornered me. I must profess some degree of pleasure from his hot, wet tongue but it was shameful to have everyone watching while he freely to had his way with me. The Princess again noticed and spoke loudly to the Countess.

"Shouldn’t we do something for poor Rex? He must have had a long day on your jet."

"Yes, Princess. He doesn’t travel well and there isn’t much for him to play with here. You know he has the run of my pony girls back home."

"Well of course. Little One, why don’t we go into my office?"

I placed the tray on a table and followed the Princess and Countess into the dreaded office where I spent every morning being tormented.

I can only attribute the next set of events to the large quantities of alcohol consumed. For Rex followed us into the office and the Princess closed the door.

"When you say he has the run of your pony girls, why don’t you show me what you mean?"

The smiling Countess nodded then gave a command and hand signal to Rex. Next she placed her hand on my buttocks and spoke a single word.


The Countess stepped back and suggested that the Princess move to the side of the room. It was shocking. Rex turned into a barking snarling beast and began nipping at the back of my knees. Not knowing what to do I finally understood that he wanted me to kneel. The Princess and Countess laughed as I complied.

"It’s a game he plays indoors. When outside he truly herds the girls for me. But be careful Little One. He really will give you a good nip if you disobey. Particularly with all those colors you’re wearing. He’s confused about what you are. To him you smell human but look like a huge bird."

Both women laughed at that comment then left the office, closing the door behind them. I was alone with Rex. He barked and growled and had me crawl all about the office. My arms remained secured at the elbows so my efforts to crawl were on two knees. After a time I learned his mannerisms and barked commands. He kept me moving about the office balanced on two knees until, apparently tiring of the game, he stood before me and growled. I stopped and he put his paws on my shoulders and pushed my face to the carpet. Through growls and nips at my legs, Rex indicated he wanted me to remain motionless. Just the nip of his sharp teeth was enough of a threat. I froze in the position desired, forehead on the carpet, kneeling, arms secured and my backside well above my head. Rex moved between my knees and began working his tongue between my cheeks. It was a grotesquely pleasant sensation. I could not help but spread my knees further and allow him full access and with long slow swipes of his tongue he attacked my pussy and anus. My juices began to flow. It was a sick feeling being turned on by a dog, but I had been denied vaginal intercourse for years and the physical relief was welcomed.

After several minutes of Rex’s oral ministrations, the office door opened and the Princess and Countess stepped in and watched. They laughed at my look of satisfaction.

"I think she and Rex are getting along just fine, Princess."

"Yes. But is that all Rex does? Paul and Paula can do that."

"Oh, no. Rex, take her!"

With the command from the Countess, Rex rose and placed his paws on my shoulders. I closed my eyes in disbelief that this could be happening. The two evil women laughed and shouted words of encouragement as the large Doberman struggled to find his mark.

"Help him, Little One, it will go faster for you."

What choice did I have? If I tried to crawl he would nip me. If I remained still the humiliation would continue. It was evident that the Princess and Countess were not going to call him off. Well, I arched my back, spread a little further and took him in my rectum.

Dogs work fast and fortunately he was no where near the size of Abdul, but the memory of the shame and humiliation would outlast the pain of penetration. The women had left the door open and as I felt Rex spending inside me, I looked up and saw Abdul. He was watching with an ironic smile that seemed to express both interest in the proceeding but sympathy for what was happening to me.
"Come Rex. Good boy."

The Countess called to the dog and gave him a pat and hug for his efforts. It was evident that he had been specially trained in such matters and I could only imagine what events took place at the Countess’s pony farm. She exited the room with Rex wagging his tail after his mistress.

Without a word Abdul left the room. The Princess left me to my thoughts.

"When you’re composed, there is much more to do. I want every guest to leave happy."

Paul and Paula were already working the guests when I finally got up from the floor and returned to the living room. Any guest desiring oral servitude was accommodated and I was assigned to a bedroom.

Mr. Hawkins was first and I knew exactly how to take care of his needs. The alcohol delayed his response but I soon enough had him gushing down my throat. He smiled and as he left indicated he had an idea for servitude after my sentence was completed.

I fellated two more men. No one demanded use of my backside. Word about my encounter with Rex had evidently spread among the guests. I had never felt so debased feeling Rex juices trail down my thighs as I sucked an on unknown cock. For the first time I looked forward to my morning enema.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

'96 Months' XXI

The guests sauntered to the stable. I retrieved another tray of Champagne glasses from the kitchen and followed to the stable. It was an amazing scene of decadence. All gathered around the blonde in stock six while the Princess lifted both breasts. Lantita had placed a bit in her mouth and tied it back against the stock so that she was forced to look up at her tormentor. This also caused to arch her back further and her privates were even more fully displayed.

"She’s not ready to be inseminated, yet. When ready we’ll probably use one of the sperm samples collected tonight."

Lantita was busy with the males. She worked down the row. First loosening the infibulating clasp, next ever so gently feathering the massive penis’s and then pulling them back and wedging the brass bar against the back of the thigh. She worked expertly and quickly and within five minutes all four males were erect with their phalanxes pointed toward the specimen jar on the floor. The humiliated males struggled in the stocks, not used to being viewed by so many. Yet, they were eager to be relieved of their spunk. None had given up a sample in over a month. Five was most rambunctious in his movements. Bending very low at the knee then rising in futile attempts to frottage himself against the brass bar.

"Now. Each of you is going to show off for my guests. I want nice full samples. Drain yourself completely or there will be consequences..."

The Princess spoke very firmly and I’m sure the livestock knew of the many consequences which could result in not pleasing her.

"Now let’s start with Five he looks ready."

Everyone moved to the back of the first stock where the Asian’s massive erection was purple and stiff as a board. Normally this was when Lantita would simply apply the vibrator for four or five seconds and the engorged organ would explode. But not tonight. The Princess wanted to show off. As the guests watched and the man worked himself in frustration, the Princess stood to the front and pushed the front of her sarong right up against Five’s face. With a slight movement of her hand, not noticed by most, she opened the sarong below her hips, exposing herself to Five.

"On three. . . One, Two, Three."

On three, she did something with her hand. But the crowd was watching the Asian’s manhood as it ejaculated a rivulet of sperm into the sample jar. Then another and another. Large globs of thick milky glue. The men were amused, but the women laughed and cheered. Making a man come on command was always a treat for a dominant woman and I noted many looks of envy.

Lantita squeezed out the last drops and removed the sample jar for storage. Party or not, the sample could be worth thousands.

"Well, who’s next?"

The three remaining males looked at the Princess in anticipation. Lantita gruffly squeezed the tip of Five’s penis and replaced the clasp.

"Let’s do Twelve."

It was the same action and reaction. The crowd was getting more excited and inebriated. I was amazed at the Princess’s control. Twelve worked just as hard as Five to ejaculate at the count of three and his viscous white paste filled the jar.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

'96 Months' XX

The party was small. Obviously with the Princess’s proclivities there were not a lot of people who would enjoy her type of amusements. Paul and Paula also served and Lantita had fun stroking Paul to erection for the guest’s amusement. Everyone knew of his diminished physical sexual capacity and were therefore amazed at Lantita’s ability to bring him to such a state. And Paul looked hopelessly confused striding about the living room and dining room with a tiny hard on that could not be put to use. The women present could not restrain themselves from stroking and playing with it as they reached for a drink, and it became a game among the female guests to keep him erect.

I posed for several of the men. Most were foreign to Saudi Arabia and found my artwork to be most curious and amusing. I don’t think they realized it was permanent. Abdul arrived late and seeing him, my heart jumped. Was I falling in love with my executioner? I deeply wanted him to take me, even if the guests were watching. Lantita’s earlier carnal handiwork had had its effect.

A rough looking woman from Holland kept beckoning me for more Champagne. She wore a tight leather dress and appeared to be very muscular. But it was her companion that was most notable. A dog she called Rex. He was a large, vicious looking Doberman and every time I served her, the Countess Van de Mere, the dog would sniff and lick between my legs. The Countess found this to be amusing and made me stand holding the full tray while the dog had his way.

"He’s an unaltered male, my dear. You’ve got him quite excited. And you don’t want to get him mad. He can be quite nasty. You should probably douche more often, don’t you think?"

I was flushed with embarrassment but my tattooed flesh didn’t expose may shamed reaction to her suggestion. I didn’t think my scent was so obvious, but of course once the dog started sniffing everyone noticed. On the third encounter with Rex, Princess Rosanna looked over and laughed. Later, I saw her whispering to the Countess.

After many cocktails and hors d’oeuvres, the Princess nodded to Lantita who left the room. She then announced it was time for a show.

"My livestock will be offering me gifts. Everyone to the stables."

Mr. Hawkins had just arrived and seemed pleased to see me. I served him a drink.

"Well Nurse Hopkins, only six more months."

I hadn’t thought about it. But there would only be another 31 strokes.

"I’d like to visit with you later, if I may?"

I nodded, fully knowing what that meant.

Monday, July 25, 2011

'96 Months' XIX

From that day of the blonde’s arrival, the attention afforded to me by the Princess diminished. After morning exercise, Lantita would suspend me in the Princess’s office, but that was all. The Princess would work at her desk or gaze at me while talking on the phone. I became more like a house pet that was present for an occasional stroke or affectionate pat but which otherwise suffered from inattention through familiarity.

The Princess had mentioned her birthday and, being extremely extroverted, was planning her own party. In preparation, none of the livestock had given up sperm for the past month and Lantita was under special instructions to increase the food and hormone dosages. The Princess herself spent time in the stable each afternoon feathering the infibulated members, a process which was evidently quite painful as the clasp pinched the semi-swollen tip. She also feathered the blond and appeared very proud of her acquisition.

My afternoons were still spent restrained in full view of the livestock, but the Princess made a particular point of using her fingers to lather the essence of my feminine organ under the noses of the livestock. It is difficult for one to fully appreciate his or her own aroma, but I can only imagine, after all the months without douching, of how powerful my scent was. And my colorful flesh seemed to mesmerize the livestock. Whereas they used to occasionally dose off during my afternoon display, they now watched me with great curiosity and I suppose lust.


After many weeks the Princess’s birthday finally arrived. The house was spotless thanks to Paul, Paula, me and a vicious whip deftly handled by Lantita. Even the stable was well cleaned. To the chagrin of the males, Lantita clamped shut their urethras to keep the floors neat. This meant that every hour or so I had to provide them with relief by holding a bottle for them. It was a very rare occasion that I was allowed to hold a penis, other than in my mouth or backside, and it gave me an interesting feeling of control. During one round, while Lantita wasn’t watching, I pinched off number Five’s flow before he was finished. He bucked noticeably and Lantita looked over and smiled.

"Stop playing, Little One. They have to be settled to perform for the Princess tonight."

I released Five and allowed him to finish. But the thought of having control over the well hung asian stayed in the back of my mind.

Late in the afternoon, Lantita shaved my head, fully displaying the Princess’s artwork. I looked in the mirror and cried again. I could never become accustomed to my physical appearance, in spite of the exhibitionism that had permeated my psyche since my incarceration.

"The Princess wants your eyebrows done also."

Lantita sounded remorseful when she told me. It was almost comical to be concerned about the last small strands of material covering my body. But the Princess knew how to exercise her control and domination. For her party, I would be exhibited without a strand of hair or sliver of clothing, fully displaying her artistic skills. Sometimes I was grateful for the heavy metal bands. Such were the only covering I had.

Lantita lathered my eyebrows and rapidly worked the straightedge razor. The colored flesh underneath was where the blue around my eyes changed to the yellow of my forehead. At the top, where my hairline used to be, the yellow interlaced with greens which streaked across the top of my bald head.

As I stared at the mirror, the blue lines emanating upwards from the corners of my mouth gave me a permanent smile, like a clown. But another observer could conclude that I resembled a bird of prey preparing to engulf a hapless rodent. Whatever, my duties were to serve drinks and hors d’ oeuvres to the Princess’s guests. My arm bands were loosely attached behind me and it provided limited use of my hands.

"Stand up, Little One."

Lantita attached tiny bells to the numerous rings piercing my arms, rib cage and thighs. Every motion I made caused them to ring and draw attention. A larger bell, about an inch across, was attached to my clitoral ring and my sensitive little man could feel the little hammer sway.

Lantita opened a bottle of oil and massaged it into my skin. I was amazed out how it made my colors come to life and reflect the light. No one at the party would miss the display of body art. Lantita paid particular attention between my thighs and carefully inserted two fingers into my pussy.

"Princess Rosanna wants you ready to serve."

She deftly fingered me to arousal and withdrew when she sensed an imminent climax. The bell’s tintinnabulation sounded with the motion of her hand. Lastly, she liberally lubricated my anus to the point where the oil began dripping down my legs. Then she easily slid in four fingers and smiled at how receptive my backside had become. Abdul had stretched me widely over the years.

"Remember, pose for anyone who asks. No talking."

The desired pose was to bend forward with legs widely spread, arch my back, and crane my neck to keep my head up. This obscenely displayed the blue flesh between my legs and caused my diamonds to pop out from between my outer labia. The Princess seemed very proud of my jewelry and Mr. Hawkins had indicated the diamonds were valuable, not to mention the extensive number of gold rings I wore.

With that I retreated to the kitchen listening to my bells sound with each step. A tray of drinks awaited me and I ironically thought about how time most women spent attending to their hair and makeup for such an occasion. For me it was a quick shave and a layer of oil.

Friday, July 22, 2011

'96 Months' XVIII

Will be traveling for the next two days. No postings.


The following week the Princess returned from one of her trips bellowing for Lantita.

"Get stall number six ready. I’ve found one!"

The reader may recall that the unused stock in stall six at the end of the row was shaped differently. It was set back from the others and the hole in the middle was larger. Also the holes to the side were smaller than the other wrist holes and higher. In preparation I cleaned the heavy smooth wood as Lantita supervised me. In her rush, she freed both my wrists and arms. Such urgency to prepare the device added to the mystery of its purpose.

Within hours a truck arrived and two swarthy men lowered a large box. The Princess eagerly signed and as the men returned to the truck Lantita pried it open. Inside was an incredible sight. A large blonde woman lay naked but comfortably surrounded by foam cushions. Her face was covered with an oxygen mask. As Lantita removed the cushions, it was evident that the woman was well secured to the sides and ends of the box by thick leather cuffs.

Lantita unsnapped the cuffs and removed the mask. The woman was groggy but slowly sat up. It appeared that some type of sedating gas had been administered.

"She’s gorgeous, Princess, where did you find her?"

"I’ve been negotiating for weeks. An agent in New York sent me her photos. She’s been in captivity in South America for about a year. It seems the drug lords have found a new way to launder money. Their dirty drug money buys her from American kidnappers, my clean money buys her from the drug lords. Simple and neat."

Lantita helped the woman stand. She was unsteady but what a sight. She was close to six feet tall, about Lantita’s height. But it was her breasts, hips, legs, and buttocks that were most impressive. The large blonde had massive mammary glands, wide hips and buttocks and legs that seemed to be sculpted.

"The information I have indicates she was an aerobics instructor. Can you imagine these bouncing around in a gym?"

The Princess palmed both breasts when she posed the question.

"It is no wonder they targeted her. She may just as well hung out a sign that read, ‘take me’...

"I’ve examined her x-rays. Her birth canal is enormous. She’ll produce for us very nicely. Our own baby factory."

Lantita stood beside the woman and held her up with one arm over her shoulder. She motioned to me and I stood on the other side. Although my arms were immobilized, the woman instinctively placed her other arm over my shoulder to stabilize herself. The three of us walked slowly to the stable.

The reaction of the livestock was noticeable despite their restraints. The woman’s large breasts were impressive and the four men stirred in the stocks. Lantita motioned for me to open stock number six and she lowered the compliant woman into the large center hole. She pushed here and there and finally lowered the top of the stock. It did not entrap the neck. It was designed to encircled the torso just below the breasts. Lantita grasped the right wrist and pulled it up and back toward the woman’s waist to enter the smaller holes. She closed the stock and then did the same with the left wrist. When finished the woman stood bent at the waist with the main stock intersecting her across the lower part of her rib cage, below her breasts. Her head, shoulders and arms protruded from the front of the stocks, her stomach, hips and legs from the rear. Her wrists were awkwardly secured palms up and above the level of her head. This forced her to arch her back as a swimmer would from his starting position.

Lantita added the final touch. The spreader bar which was worn by all the livestock connected the woman’s ankles and forced her feet apart. Lantita adjusted it so that she was much more widely split than the men. When I moved to the rear I understood why. The posture forced by the stocks and the spreader bar caused an obscene view of the woman’s reproductive organs. Her outer lips were widely parted and her little man begged for attention. I could only imagine what enjoyment Paul and Paula would have. Lantita noticed my curiosity.

"We’ve haven’t done any breeding here for years. The Princess wasn’t satisfied with the last female so we’ve just milked the males. But this is a beautiful specimen. You’ll be amazed at what we can do. The Princess will probably start with Nine, the Nordic. Blondes are easily marketed, especially in the Arab countries. . .

"Look at this!"

Lantita had reached down and spread the woman’s lips even further and the pink, wet vagina shone under the stable lights. The woman was large and it was evident that with proper stretching she could easily take any of the livestock.

"It’s a shame the Princess only uses artificial insemination. Watching Nine work this would be amusing."
I tended to agree. I had watched the Nordic give up his sperm on many occasions and the mammoth pure white organ which slowly turned pink and purple was delightfully sensual to observe.

The Princess entered with Paul and Paula. They were overjoyed with the new addition and of course raced under her for their own examination. Their tongues soon roamed over the woman’s intimate parts and she became aroused.

"Good. The gas in wearing off."

The Princess was stroking the head and hair of her new possession.

"Lantita, cut off this hair. I can’t have it in the way. It hangs over her face and shoulders. Leave about two inches."

She reached down and played with the large breasts. Then pulled them up by the nipples almost to the woman’s chin.

"More than I expected. It’s always difficult to judge from photographs but I didn’t get short changed here. That’s enough! Paul! Paula! Get out from under there now!"

The teenagers had been licking and sucking with great vigor and the blond had moaned with the pleasurable attention.

"Lantita, keep them away from her. You know we have to establish her cycles and keep her randy. And with my birthday coming up, none of the males will be ready for her."

Lantita nodded and smacked both little rumps as they knelt under the blonde. They quickly scampered out of the stable fully aware of the potential of Lantita’s chastisements.

"Little One, you’re going to help with her care. As a nurse you have the training. We need all her bodily functions recorded and must particularly know when she ovulates."

From that day onward, my hands we free for about an hour every afternoon to bath and massage the blonde. Also recorded on a chart for the Princess’s review was the quantities of fluids and excrement the woman secreted, her temperature, pulse, menstrual cycle of course and any other observations considered pertinent. For this purpose the blonde urinated into a basin as opposed to the males who just passed their water unto the tiled but well drained floor. There was no talking allowed but the blond and I communicated through her eyes and my hands.

On occasion when Lantita was not watching carefully I was able to manipulate her between her thighs, but only for a few moments. She seemed grateful, but I’m not sure it didn’t add to her frustration.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

'96 Months' XVII

After the body art was completed, the Princess became more passive in her control. On many occasions she just suspended me by the steel bands, sipped a glass of wine and enjoyed the attentions of Paul or Paula while viewing her colorful handy work.

The livestock took new interest in me. Being on the bottom of the chain of submission, I suppose they felt some gratification that the Princess’s domination and cruelty were spread amongst all those at the farm. Lantita indicated that the sperm counts had risen slightly since the tattooing. I wondered what type of psychological/physiological message that indicated. Even Paul seemed to be more attentive to my backside with his long tongue.


Over the ensuing months the Princess occasionally perfected her work. One day while Lantita worked to stretch my tongue, the Princess smiled and retrieved the tattooing needle. Yes, although painful, it works on the tongue. She chose the same shade of blue as my eyes and lips. As she worked she realized there were other areas to be colored. On my next visit to the city, an appointment was made with a specialist. After placing protective coverings over my eyeballs, my eyelids and all surrounding areas were colored blue.

Weeks later, as a lark, the Princess shaved my head and completed the art work of rows of simulated green feathers coming up from my back combining with rows of yellow from my face. I had never felt so debased as when she restrained me in front of a full length mirror, shaven bald and tattooed like a jungle bird.

She let my hair grow back, but warned me that it would be shaved for special occasions and to entertain visitors.


Mr. Hawkins came by for his inspection about every other month. He too was enthralled with my exotic coloring. Princess Rosanna permitted him to take me for walks, using a leash or course, and I learned more about him. After the Princess’s artwork, I presume he came to the same conclusion that I had. Returning to England would be very difficult. Therefore, he became more open knowing that there was very little chance that I would ever meet his wife, family or friends.

On one walk when we were no longer in sight of the house, he slipped a small rubber device from his pocket and commanded me to spread my thighs. He inserted the object into my vagina and it vibrated. Oh. What a dear friend. It had been ages since I had been touched there and now this devious little egg!
He continued walking but I stopped, overcome by the waves of pleasure. He gave the leash attached to my clitoral ring a little tug. I moved. But it was most distressing trying to walk with the pleasantly evil sensation. Mr. Hawkins just laughed.

"I thought you’d enjoy it. It’s Japanese. Sort of an electronic Ben Wa ball. We’ll have to try other models. They’re made in all shapes and sizes."

I was a physical wreck when we reached the spring. Mr. Hawkins put me on all fours and removed the device. I did not climax but it brought me to the edge and held me there until it became torture.
He unzipped his trousers and I dutifully took him in my mouth. He held up the device and showed me several deep scratches in the wet rubber surface.

"Your diamonds are sharp. No vaginal penetration for you. Your trinkets would tear right through a prophylactic and cause injury."

Placing the device in his pocket, he grasped my red ears and thrust deeply into my throat. Afterwards on the walk back I described my frustration and asked to have my arm bands released so I could masturbate.

"I’m here to observe your safety not to interfere with your punishment. Such short term gratification is unimportant. I am more concerned about your future after the sentence is carried out. You have about 100 strokes remaining. The Princess typically doesn’t keep livestock forever, therefore I question what will happen to you. I don’t know what terms the Saudi government will accept under your commutation agreement of lifetime parole."

I had not thought about it. It was true the Princess bought and sold livestock and just as she was tiring of physically tormenting me, there was the question of the sperm counts. Should the counts diminish, of what use would I be at the farm?

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

'96 Months' XVI

The Princess was persistent in her goal. Every morning she worked the needle up my legs, coloring more and more of my body. The steel bands were loose enough to be slid up or down my calves and thighs and therefore didn’t impede her progress. She replicated the art work she had performed with the body paint. When she finished my legs however she made changes. Using blue ink she drew a large circle around each of my buttocks. She would leave the object of Abdul’s cane its natural flesh color, since Abdul and the audience needed to view the welts.

But she became very diligent about the sensitive areas. Announcing that blue would highlight my genitalia and enhance the radiance of my diamonds, she proceeded to work the tattooing needle between my buttocks. It was agony and I dreaded the thought of the instrument buzzing between my thighs.

Tears again fell and I didn’t know why. The pain was substantial but nothing I hadn’t already endured. But when I looked at my orange feet and red legs and realized that I would forever be colored as some type of bird, it was difficult to maintain control.

The timing was frustrating. The Princess worked very deliberately for two to three hours a day. She was careful to make the markings on the two legs as symmetrical as possible. Get on with it!, I thought. But no. It had taken a full week to do the legs. And now the anus and genitalia would receive particular attention.

"It’s where everyone will be looking at you, Little One. You don’t want to disappoint anyone with a sloppy job."

The entire pubes area including my outer labia slowly turned blue under the tattoo needle. I begged but to no avail. She was intractable and my entreaties seemed to encourage her to go more slowly and deepen the coloring.

After another week my stomach turned yellow and shades of green covered my back. As with my buttocks, my breasts were encircled with a blue line and left natural for Abdul’s cane. After much thought the Princess decided to do my nipples the same blue as my pubes. My nipples are small but the pain was still great.
In the third week she had reached my neck and I began to relax with the belief she was finished. Mentally, I was adapting to my new body although Paul and Paula’s sarcastic laughter caused a degree of depression.

And then one morning after exercise, Lantita accompanied me to the Princess’s office. For the first time ever at the farm I was permitted to lie down. You recall, reader, that it was one of the Princess’s rules of restraint that I always be upright and over the years I had learned, with difficulty, to sleep suspended upright or kneeling or in whatever position the Princess fancied. But never lying down. And I confess it felt wonderful to lie supine on a table for the first time in so long a period. Wonderful, that is, until Lantita began securing the steel bands and using tight leather straps. I couldn’t move anything. She even rolled my hair into a braid, attached a strap and secured my head.

The Princess removed the small gold chains from my nose and I screamed in horror. I realized that my face was to receive the tattooist’s artwork. Lantita began swabbing away the tears and Princess Rosanna calmly applied the instrument.

She was precise with the tracings. My nose was colored with the same bright orange as my feet. Blue was applied around my eyes and a tapering blue line swept from the corner of each eye up my temples. My lips also received the blue and a similar tapering line swept from the corner of the mouth across my cheek almost to my ear. The remainder of my face, forehead and neck she filled with streaks of yellows and greens with thin lines of black to replicate the appearance of feathers. The final touch were my ears. A gaudy red was chosen.


In subsequent visits to the courthouse my audience, which had been waning over the past few months, began to increase substantially. Word of the Princess’s artwork passed quickly among the voyeuristic men, and women of the city flocked to my canings out of curiosity. Even Abdul found new interest in tormenting me. My pearl white buttocks presented quite a target, outlined in blue and surrounded by the reds and greens of my thighs and back. On the first two visits after the tattooing, Abdul kept me on the preparation table after caning for lengthy periods. This was normally when I received satisfaction in some form, but instead he just looked at me and played with various parts of my body. My blue nipples, centered on my naturally white breasts were quite distracting to him. He spent many minutes fondling, pinching and kneading them. Unfortunately, his preference for fellatio returned and I took him in my mouth while he played. It was disappointing to me since I did not receive the orgasm and strange satisfaction I had been obtaining from the anal penetration.

On the third visit, he took me from behind after carefully inspecting my crinkled blue rose bud. Later in the courtyard, his copious white spendings were quite visible dribbling down my red legs.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

'96 Months' XV

One morning after exercise, Princess Rosanna had me hanging from the pipe. On this occasion I was facing the wall with the front of my collar and waist band secured to the hooks on the pipe. My legs of course were stretched outward in an uncomfortable split. The Princess was applying the searing hot needles to my anus. She did this prior to my visits to Abdul, fully knowing that he would use me there and thus make the caning and his subsequent attentions even more painful. As I struggled with the numerous punctures, the Princess was reading a magazine concerning body art while Paul serviced her. It was her way of relaxing... reading, applying an occasional needle, receiving oral service then flipping more pages. It sometimes lasted for hours if she found the magazine to be interesting.

The body art magazine fascinated her. The next day she returned from the city with make up and the morning was spent painting my entire body. She wanted to see what I would look like as a bird. So, she worked from my feet upwards and coated me. When finished, some two hours later, she attached the small leash to my clitoral ring and led me about the house showing me off to Lantita, Paul, Paula and finally the livestock.

She had painted my feet orange. My calves and thighs red, except at the thighs she blended in various shades of green. My stomach was yellow. My back was of lighter greens with some yellow. All this was highlighted with thin white and black lines to simulate plumage. Blue was used around my eyes and lips.

The Princess was proud of her work. Lantita and the teenagers laughed and mocked me. I spent the remainder of the morning restrained in front of a mirror. Lantita remarked, as tears of humiliation ran to my cheeks, that it was a shame that the paint had to be removed. The Princess looked at me pensively and nodded.

The next day I was scheduled to visit the courthouse. Lantita washed off the body paint as I knelt for the enema. (I was always cleansed internally to show respect for Abdul). As Lantita led me to the limousine, the Princess stepped out of the front door. For the first time she accompanied us into the city and during the two hour ride she roughly played with my intimate parts. When we arrived I was very aroused and ready for Abdul. The Princess announced she would do some shopping and meet us later.

On this visit, Abdul hung me upside down, facing the raucous audience, and caned my breasts. In this position he always grabbed my hair and pulled back to force me to arch my back and thrust out my chest. This provided the best target, he explained, and ensured that the nipples would be stroked. He swung heavily considering the sensitivity of the area. I noticed that each session was becoming progressively more cruel as the final date approached.

After Abdul sodomized me and I was hung in the courtyard, the Princess came to view me. She seemed proud of the attention I drew and was very impressed with Abdul’s work. His spendings dribbled down my thighs and the Princess smiled knowingly.

That evening, on the car ride to the farm, the Princess announced that I would be the object of a new project.

"You’re going to look even more beautiful and submissive," she exclaimed. "The canings are only for a few more months and soon you’ll forget Abdul. But you’ll never forget me, Little One. No. Princess Rosanna will forever be in your memory."


The next day after exercise, Lantita took me to the office and attached me to the pipe. Princess Rosanna was toying with an odd electrical device which made a humming noise. When she wheeled the tray between my legs the alcohol lamp and needles had been replaced with bottles of colored liquid. She held up the device. It was a tattooing needle!

"You’ll find the physical pain to be minor compared to what you’ve endured. It’s the mental anguish of understanding the permanence that will torment you. Over the next few weeks I’m going to color your flesh as I see fit. You’re going to look very pretty for me, with your jewelry and all."

As she spoke she began to run the device over my foot. Just as with the body paint, she chose a bright orange. She was very thorough. Within hours both feet were tattooed orange from the ankles down. She even did the bottom of the feet and between my toes.

She was right about the torment. The pain was nothing compared to the canings and hot needles I had endured. But the thought of the permanence of the subjugation put me into a funk. Deep down, I had always believed there would be a time when my sentence would be completed and I would be allowed to return to England. And now the body art. How could I explain it? Particularly in my profession where nurses were expected to be appear neat, clean and orderly in appearance. The ‘girl next door’ type of aura.

Monday, July 18, 2011

'96 Months' XIV

Under instructions from the Princess, Lantita began the process of lengthening and stretching my tongue. This involved clamping the tip of the tongue and securing it for hours to one of the many eye hooks in a stretched position. Also a new challenge was introduced at each evening meal. A majority of my food was neatly packed into a tennis ball. The ball had a slit cut into it and with arms restrained I could only work the mush out with my lips and tongue. Not wanting to go hungry I became quite adept at penetrating the slit, scooping out the nutritious mush and leaving the insides spotless. On subsequent visits to be caned, Abdul noticed the eagerness to demonstrate my new skills. I was able to take the tip of his penis in my mouth and slide my protruding tongue down the underside of his semi-hard erection. My goal was to be able to take most of the shaft and simultaneously lick his balls. I believed affording Abdul such pleasure would cause him to reciprocate and bring me to orgasm. But I soon realized after three visits to the court house that it would require many hours of stretching and training to condition my tongue. Fortunately, the Princess’s farm allowed me such time.


I was at the farm for about a year when the Princess received a visitor. A well dressed Englishman stepped out of a Land Rover. Lantita saw him from a window and voiced concern. I had just completed my morning exercise and was waiting to be taken to the Princess’s office for her daily recreation. Standing on my toes, my nose ring and clitoral ring were attached to hooks on the wall of the main room. As always, my arm bands were secured behind me just above the elbows.

Lantita responded to a firm knock on the door and the gentleman stepped into the vestibule. He announced he was from the British consulate and asked to see the Princess. As he spoke I could see out of the corner of my eye that he had noticed me, standing on toes, naked, and most uncomfortably restrained ( although dear reader I was able to stand in such positions for increasing long durations). Lantita took him to the office were the Princess had her way with me almost every morning. Paul and Paula were not to be seen. They were shy around strangers.

I waited on my toes much longer then usual and could hear laughing and giggling emanating from the Princess’s office. Finally, the door opened and the Princess called out to Lantita.

"Bring in the Little One. Mr. Hawkins is here to inspect her."

She mockingly vocalized the word ‘inspect’ and I could hear more laughter as Lantita freed my rings. Without need for instruction, I entered the office. Mr. Hawkins was sitting in the chair where Paul and Paula normally performed for the Princess. He was holding his wallet and stuffing it with currency.

"Well, Little One, it seems that under our treaty with Great Britain, prisoners of British citizenry must be made available for inspection by the consulate. Mr. Hawkins will inspect you.

"I assume Mr. Hawkins you will not want to be disturbed?"

He nodded. The Princess left the office and closed the door behind her. Hawkins returned the wallet to his pocket.

Mr. Hawkins was not old but he certainly was not young either. He appeared to be one of those career diplomats, intelligent, knowledgeable but without personality. He didn’t say a word to me. He simply unzipped his trousers and freed his penis. It was hardening from the salacious view of my pierced, naked, hairless body. He signaled me to come toward him and I stood between his knees. He spread my thighs and the golden chains pulled apart the rings on my lips. My feminine scent wafted to his nose and his penis stirred. He tweaked both of my nipples until they hardened then pulled downward, grasping my chains. I dropped to my knees. Over the years I had learned that when a man put a women on her knees he wanted one of two things. Since my mouth was now an inch from the purple head of his manhood, I took it.

He grunted with pleasure and I worked him for several minutes with all of the skills I had acquired in Saudi Arabia. He was not as large as Abdul and no where near the size of the livestock and therefore I easily took the entire shaft down my throat. When I finally closed then opened my gullet, he came hard and fast. I kept him in my mouth, as I had been trained, until he softened, then carefully and dutifully licked him clean. When I looked up he was smiling.

"My wife is back in England. She won’t visit Arab countries. It’s very difficult...

"I’m glad to see you’re being treated so well here. You only have 200 more strokes. I’ll see what we can do for your release afterwards. This lifetime parole agreement will be difficult to deal with, but we can try."

The man left very gratified and indicated to Lantita that he would return for regular ‘inspections’.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

'96 Months' XIII

When the Princess was not at the farm, Lantita provided me with much more freedom. Since the Princess’s absence gave me much of the morning free after exercise. Lantita would attach weights to my ankle, leg and waist bands, secure my wrists behind my back and send me off for a walk. It was a delightful respite from the restraint and I was able to the tour paths throughout the farm, walking as best I could among the palm and fruit trees. Each of the thin gold chains stretching from my waist band to my leg band remained threaded through the rings piercing my labia. Every step provided an odd erotic sensation, as if I were playing with myself. Lantita seemed to know this and watched with amusement as I strolled away.

I had to be careful to stay in the shade. The tungsten steel heated very quickly in the sun and burned my skin. I believe one purpose for the walks was to extinguish any hopes of escape across the desert. Knowing from the limousine rides that there was nothing but sand and sun for over a hundred miles, all thoughts of such adventure left me.


Lantita was also permitted a degree of latitude when the Princess was not at the farm. I’m sure the Princess was aware that her rules were not followed to the letter during her periods of absence. Apparently she realized that her insistence on strict restraint took its toll on all involved, including Lantita, and therefore a change in the environment was better for all. Not that the farm became a vacation spa. No, Lantita had her own proclivities and eccentricities.

On one occasion when the Princess was on a business trip, I observed the cruelty to which Lantita could force a man to submit when given a free hand.

I was in the stable, secured to my post in my daily function of being exposed to the livestock. My wrists bands held my arms straight over my head forcing me to my toes. Lantita had attached a spreader bar to my ankle bands and I was struggling to keep my weight on my toes, which just touched the floor, in order to relieve my arms of the great stress. Paul, as he was wont to do, was toying with my backside with his strong but nimble tongue, causing my juices to flow uncontrollably. The livestock were all stirring in the stocks, watching the viscous fluid dribble down my thighs and inhaling the aroma of my excitement.

Lantita entered with Paula and upon giving instructions, much activity began. Paul stopped performing the slow pleasantly torturous analingus and helped Paula remove a pony cart from a storage room. Lantita began preparing number Twelve for release. A very careful procedure which involved removing his spreader bar, replacing it with heavy chains, placing manacles on the wrists, then releasing the wrists from the stocks, securing them tightly behind the back and finally releasing the head. The stocks, I should mention, were hinged in three places, one for each wrist and one for the head. Therefore at no point was the giant black man completely unrestrained. Also, Lantita had a cattle prod handy in case of belligerence, and when he was free of the stocks she gave Twelve a mild shock as a forewarning.

The pony cart was an interesting device. It resembled a chariot but was intended to be pulled by subservient humans, not animals. Twelve was collared and attached to long pole extending in front of the body of the cart. As he bent at the waist, his neck collar was attached to the pole, then a waist belt was strapped around him and also secured to the pole. Lantita released one wrist, flipped the chain over the pole and reattached the manacle. Twelve was left bent at the waist, well fastened to the six inch thick pole which was used to pull the cart. His enormous scrotum swung between his legs and his infibulated penis appeared to be a partially inflated balloon.

The pole extended another four feet over Twelve’s head. and, as I began to ponder its function, Lantita released my wrist bands.

The cart was designed to be pulled by two. Lantita led me to the front of Twelve and clipped my neck band and waist band to the pole. As I bent over with the pole pressed against my back, I could feel Twelve’s nose and cheeks on my buttocks. After Lantita removed his gag I felt his lips and tongue.

"Enjoy it for now Twelve. You’ll soon have other things on your mind."

Lantita left the stable for a minute and returned with a picnic basket. She removed my spreader bar, removed the chain from Twelve ankles and then, as I looked back over my shoulder, removed the infibulating clasp. I couldn’t see Twelve’s reaction, but did feel his breathing become quite heavy.

"Let’s talk a little trip to the spring, Little One. You know how to get there."

I heard a snap of leather, a grunt, and felt the heavy breath of Twelve on my intimate parts. The pole moved forward and I stepped with it. Within moments, after several more snaps, we were trotting at a vigorous pace to one of the most beautiful settings at the farm. It was where the water emanated from the sand and flowed a short distance into a pond. This is where the house and stable drew water and therefore it was maintained in a pristine condition.

When we arrived I was drenched with perspiration and gasping for air. Lantita was demanding and any pace slower than a quick trot resulted in more snaps. I was grateful she could not reach me, for Twelve seemed to find the encouragement quite painful.

The sun was quickly heating my metal bands and Lantita released me from the pole so I could move to the shade. Twelve remained tethered and I was amazed at the size of him. When I had observed him giving up sperm, his erection was always forced into odd configurations as described and it was difficult to apprise his length. But secured to the cart bent over at the waist his free erection seemed to come to his chin. Lantita reached under and wrapped a hand around it. It was the first time I had ever seen someone touch the erect member of one of the livestock and Twelve stirred with the pleasurable sensation.

"Oh. Your going to be good to Lantita today. My little scrotum whip has you very excited."

Yes. As I looked closely I saw welts on the thighs and lower buttocks and, although not immediately discernible, the small single stranded whip which Lantita held, had obviously been used to excoriate the testicles. They were swollen and appeared even larger. Twelve had worked very hard to pull the cart and avoid the snap of the devilish leather instrument.

Lantita retrieved an elastic cord from the basket and dextrously wound it around the base of Twelve’s penis then the testicles then the penis again. In tying it off, she announced that Twelve’s manhood was rendered harmless. She released him from the cart.

When he stood up, I gawked at his restrained erection. It was as thick as my arm. The purple uncircumcised head glistened in the sun and it was at least fourteen inches. Lantita smiled with amusement, declaring the massive organ to be hers.

For the next hour, Lantita thoroughly subjugated the huge black man, using the cattle prod and whip. It was evident that my presence added to his humiliation. Lantita called him "King" and made him crawl and kiss her feet. She produced a large dildo from the basket and after slowly inserting it in his rectum, he grew harder. Finally after much use of the single stranded whip on the scrotum, she blindfolded Twelve and laid him on and ground. The stiff black organ pointed straight to the sky and Lantita motioned me to squat over the blindfold. I remind the reader that the Princess’s policy was that I was not to be douched and with the brisk run to the oasis my scent was strong. Lantita meanwhile removed her brightly colored sarong. She was naked underneath and this was the first time and had seen her. She was shapely but well muscled. Her pussy hair was closely cropped and it was evident that she was enjoying her use of Twelve, for I detected moisture.

"Don’t let him touch you, Little One. This whip works on bad girls too."

I remained squatting with my privates within an inch of his nose and mouth. Lantita held the little whip in her right hand and straddled Twelve at his waist. She grabbed his cock with her left and guided it into her as she lowered herself by bending at the knees. What followed was an amazing display of acrobatic sex as Lantita rode the huge erection and flagellated Twelve’s scrotum by applying short crisp strokes behind her back. Lantita referred to it as "riding the bull" for when the whip found the tender testicles, Twelve’s hips violently jumped up off the ground. He also screamed in pain, but Lantita ignored the entreaties in her frenzy. It was a fascinating scene and I became very excited watching Lantita physically abuse the giant man and turn him into a living dildo. The elastic cord held nicely and by preventing ejaculation, it appeared that Lantita could "ride the bull" all day. She worked her hips up and down frantically. I noticed that only the last eight of nine inches penetrated her. Twelve was too big to be taken without adequate lubrication and stretching. But the advantage to using his enormous length was that Lantita could remain on her feet and bend at the knees at achieve penetration. This allowed for great flexibility in applying the whip, since Lantita’s arm was well away from Twelve’s body.

The "ride" continued until Lantita began to grimace with pleasure. Finally, she stopped and squeezed her thighs with a moan. Rolling off she rested then put on her sarong. I remained squatting and was in dire need of relief. It had been three weeks since my last visit with Abdul and my frustration was building. Lantita seemed to sense this.

"I’ll let Twelve lead the cart on the return, Little One. You can be number two."

On the trip back I was tethered nearest the cart and it was my turn to feel the sting of the little whip. It ameliorated my frustration and I was grateful.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

'96 Months' XII

Lantita and I got to know each other better over the months. She did not tolerate any disobedience but was not capricious like the Princess. If I remained completely submissive, I avoided any additional punishment or restraint from her. Working in the stables became somewhat enjoyable. For some reason knowing that there were four males treated with lower esteem than me was comforting. And although I was denied any sexual relief at the farm, other than an occasional stroke or finger to arouse me, it was perversely pleasurable to excite the livestock.

Once, Lantita let me watch one of the males give up his sperm. It was number twelve, the African, for whom I would later learn, Lantita had some degree of affection.

On this particular occasion the Princess was busy on the telephone. Lantita and I were alone in the stable and the semen was needed shortly, since a delivery driver was expected to arrive. I stood before the black man’s head and Lantita fingered me to arousal. After coating his nose, lips and chin with my essence we stepped behind the stocks. His enormous penis was becoming excited. Lantita donned latex gloves and removed the basin of heated water. The man’s testicles were bigger than eggs and almost hung to his knees. Lantita removed the infibulating clasp and I marveled at the slow steady pace of the tumescence. No stimulation was required.

"It’s been four weeks and he’s full of hormones. If this order hadn’t come in I’d probably have had to masturbate him and freeze the sample. You can’t let them go too long, the prostate will atrophy."

The procedure was curious. As the member grew and grew Lantita lubricated the man’s rectum and worked in two fingers of her left hand. The erection began to turn purple and twitch. She withdrew her left hand long enough to very carefully pull back the erection, some fourteen inches long and amazing thick. It was quite stiff and the man grunted. Next she picked up a smooth brass rod about three feet long and wedged it against the back of the man’s thighs by pulling the erect penis back toward her. The penis head was pointing straight down to the floor. When she let go of the erection the head struggled to right itself and pressed against the rod. This held the rod in place against the back of the thighs. The taught manhood struggled to upright itself from the unnatural position of being forced backward. Lantita smiled.

"This properly positions the penis to ejaculate into the specimen jar. It also indicates a good strong erection. If his erection can’t hold the rod we know that either he’s not ready or he’s getting old and it’s time to consider a sale."

As she spoke she placed a clear glass jar on the floor between the man’s feet. She again worked two fingers into the rectum.

"He desperately wants to come. But the Princess insists that there be minimal contact. I usually let them struggle a bit then take pity."

The incredibly large black member twitched and the testicles swung as the man writhed in the stocks. He bent his knees then straightened them, seeming to receive some form of gratification from the motion.

"He’s from the some area in Africa as my ancestors. If the Princess had not bought him from his kidnappers, he would probably be a King by now."

Lantita spoke with a strange pride. Was it admiration for this "King" or self satisfaction in completely dominating and humiliating the man, forcing him to involuntarily provide sperm samples at the whim of a woman.

Lantita released my arm bands. It was a rare moment but I was free.

"Feel his balls. Go ahead. He’ll enjoy it."

I had to use two hands to cradle the massive testicles. Completely hairless, warm, smooth. I had an odd feeling of power over the "King". He stirred and groaned.

"If you enjoy this, I’ll take you with us on our next excursion through the grounds. The Princess affords me time alone with the livestock on occasion."

The black phalanx was stiff as steel and I thought the entrapping rod would bend. Lantita made small talk and worked her fingers every few seconds. She explained that it readied the prostate and also allowed her to feel the man’s progress. I wondered how long and how many times she has done this. She seemed to know exactly what number Twelve’s situation and progress was. Finally she smoothed her right handover his buttocks and down his thigh.

"Come for me, Twelve. You know you want to show off. And your little naked girl friend is back here waiting to see the exhibition. Be a good boy. You don’t want to earn a session with the pumice stone do you."

The threat seemed to invigorate him and he worked his knees up and down which caused the top of the penis to frottage against the rod.

"Yes. I know what you want. You want me to help, don’t you? Yes, you want Lantita to massage that big black stick. Yes... well OK. But you have to pay later... hold his balls up a little."

I did and Lantita picked up a simple small vibrator with her right hand, turned it on and placed it on the underside of the erection near the tip. With a small movement of her left hand inside Twelve’s rectum, the man exploded into the specimen jar. Lantita smiled and removed the vibrator. She had applied it for less then three seconds.

As the sperm continued to spurt Lantita dutifully worked her fingers and talked.

"He’s not used to having the two of us talking. I think his concentration is a little off. But it’s a good sample. Give it all to me Twelve. Be good a good boy for Lantita."

The amount of fluid was amazing and streamed and streamed as Lantita milked the prostate. She appeared to know the man better than he did himself.

"After three years you get to know their proclivities and habits. You have to make sure everything is cleaned out. A complete and thorough orgasm sets up the system to begin producing for the next one. The sperm count on this one should be excellent. I can tell."

Finally Lantita picked up the specimen jar and the remaining clear fluid dripped to the floor. When the erection began to subside, the rod fell to the floor.

"That means he’s done."

Lantita withdrew her fingers, gave the man a playful pat on his buttock and restrained my arm bands behind my back. She placed the jar in my right hand and told me to take it to the Princess. As I left the stable I could see her replacing the clasp and the water basin, beginning the process of preparing Twelve for the next milking.

Friday, July 15, 2011

'96 Months' XI

After many months, I was completely depilated. The piercings were completed. Not only were the insides of my legs studded about every two inches, but when my wrists were secured over my head, two continuous lines of gold rings one on each side ran from my ankles, up the outside of my thighs, to the hips, rib cage and finally up my arm to my wrist. I counted over a hundred. And each one inserted into an aperture made by the Princess’s searing hot needles.

My body became quite shapely. The well balanced diet and the daily exercise provided great toning, particularly below the waist. Abdul commented that my buttocks were becoming better and better suited for the cane and his strokes reflected it.

But the Princess did not allow her needles to rest. Many long afternoons were spent hanging from the pipe where the Princess would slowly work her torment. Paula would be servicing her while the ominous alcohol lamp heated special needles. These were barbed and once the flesh was penetrated difficult to remove. The Princess knew exactly the right level of penetration. Intense pain but no scarring. The pipe was lowered until my breasts were at eye level and her games began. Her favorite was to lick and suck on one nipple sending waves of pleasure then slowly prick the other. Just the sound of the initial contact was frightening. A low hiss, barely discernible then the sharp signal of pain. Each needle remained and was slowly allowed to cool while the Princess held another over the flame. If I was good, the Princess would have Paul service my anus with his tongue. The young castrate only administered my back passage and the strong, well stretched tongue could actually penetrate my sphincter and provide amazing pleasure. But that was when another needle hissed, and I would scream.

Toward the end of the session the Princess would explore my vagina with her free hand and mock my excited state. The simultaneous pain and pleasure was unbearable and she knew I was very close to orgasm. But the question posed and not answered was whether it was the sensation of the needles or the oral service that brought me to such a state.

When Princess Rosanna tired of the game, or when my nipple was covered with the barbed needles, she would blow out the lamp and leave my breast looking like a pin cushion. Sometimes Lantita would come in and slowly remove the needles. She was careful. But the barbs made it difficult, and I would again suffer from the Princess’s handiwork. Other times I was taken, needles jutting and bobbing, to the Princess’s bedroom. There, after being secured for the night, the Princess would light the alcohol lamp, reheat the needles and watch me squirm and writhe. Then it was bed time with Paul and Paula and I slept donning the steel shards.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

'96 Months' X

The next morning, after a difficult night of half sleeping half daydreaming, the bedroom was awash in sunlight. The angle of the sun indicated a very early hour and the Princess, lying on her side, was still asleep. The teenagers were completely hidden under the covers. The bumps in the bed spread indicated one head was between her thighs in front and the other at her buttocks. The bumps began to move and bob. The Princess stirred and I watched what I would learn was a morning ritual, the gentle licking of the Princess until she awoke and climaxed.

After her eyes opened, her hands disappeared below the covers and drew the head between her thighs closer.

"Lick, you little bitch. Paul! Suck!"

Within minutes she shrieked and shuddered in ecstasy, then pushed the two out of bed. Paul went into the bathroom.

"Paula, help out our new pet while your brother takes care of me."

Paula retrieved a basin and held it between my thighs. I needed no encouragement. Any shyness I had at one time had disappeared in providing urine samples for the prison doctor, plus involuntarily opening myself to amuse the crowd at my monthly caning.

When the Princess got out of bed, I again had a glimpse of her large protruding clitoris. It was even larger and redder from the morning entertainment. She put on her robe and went into the bathroom.

There, I could hear the Princess giving instructions to Paul.

"Swallow it all this time or you’ll be punished."


Mornings were for exercise and stretching. Lantita would attach my nose ring to a hook hanging over either a tread mill or stair climber and simply leave me for an hour. After working vigorously to ensure that the ring didn’t tear from my nose she returned and stretched me. She was a very powerful woman, and my leg and arm muscles were pulled and bent unmercifully. The purpose was to allow the Princess to place me in what she termed severe restraint, and it was indeed severe.

Each day after exercise and stretching I was fed then led to the office for piercing. Hanging from the pipe with legs straight out to my sides (toes pointed, of course), the Princess continued her work of piercing me with rings. Usually four or six piercings per day, the hot needles punctured my flesh on the inside of my thighs from my pussy to my ankles. Later it would be the outside of thighs and she continued the two symmetrical rows over my hips up the side of my rib cage to my arms. I gasped in pain with each prick. It was not the type of pain to which you could become accustomed. But the Princess, with either Paul or Paula servicing her between her legs, worked assiduously and she took pleasure in every searing stab.

Leaving me thus suspended, the Princess would exit and later Lantita would spend an hour depilating my pussy. The addition of the jewelry made shaving difficult and the Princess insisted that I remain hairless.

Afternoons I spent in the stable. Lantita paraded me before the livestock, giving each one a close up view of my privates and on occasion rubbing my breasts and nipples in their faces.

After this initial parade I would be secured on the post in the middle of the stable, salaciously displayed for all. A spreader bar between my ankle bands and a simple hook held my wrist bands high over my head.

However, when one of the stock was scheduled to give up his sperm, I was specially positioned before him for the entire afternoon of the day before the procedure. This entailed being bent over a bar placed in front of the stock with the man’s mouth and nose just barely touching my labia. Being gagged, he couldn’t pleasure me, but for him the view and feminine scent were overpowering. I should mention that the Princess never allowed me to be douched, and over time my vagina became quite ripe.

According to the Princess the ensuing sperm counts increased, which allowed for higher selling prices.

The livestock were treated quite harshly. While I was restrained on the post, Lantita would wash each one. The blonds would make mischief by kneeling under their stomachs and ever so gently licking the infibulated penis’s. Erection was painfully impossible, the stimulation causing great discomfort as the head swelled against the clasp.

Lantita had full authority over the care of the men. She was quite adept it releasing one limb at a time and massaging and exercising it. The head of livestock was rarely freed except when a potential buyer visited or Lantita was allowed special privileges. Lantita’s discipline was thorough. Minor punishment was meted by vigorously applying a pumice stone to the penis of the recalcitrant livestock, but only if he wasn’t scheduled to give up a specimen. More harsh was the simple insertion of a salt capsule. This ingenious but cruel procedure was usually done by the Princess herself, who would gleefully pull up a chair and await the results. Gelatin capsules, similar to pills, were filled with salt. Removing the infibulating clasp the male was allowed to tumefy then the lubricated capsule was inserted some three of four inches up the urethra. The infibulating clasp would then be replaced and as the gelatin melted from the body’s heat and the moisture of the urethra, the salt did its thing. It was a safe, non-toxic irritant but its effect was amazing. The Princess usually removed the offending males gag just so she could revel in the screams of agony. To my knowledge, behaviour modification never required a second capsule.


As required by law, Lantita took me back to the courthouse for my monthly encounter with Abdul. Abdul removed the thin gold chains before the canings. But the heavy steel bands and the gold rings remained and drew even more attention from the crowd. And when I bent over the brass bar and my diamonds popped out as my lips spread and glittered under the bright lights, the audience cheered raucously.

Afterward, on this first courthouse visit after my transfer to the farm, I waited for Abdul on the preparation table. The judge from my trial entered and examined me. He satisfied himself that I was being adequately punished and the randy old fellow seemed quite fascinated with my bejeweled genitalia. I gasped when he toyed with my clitoral ring. He became so interested that he stayed and watched while I fellated Abdul to bring him to erection. When Abdul penetrated my backside the judge smiled knowingly. I wondered how many young prisoners he had sodomized in his prime.

Abdul was as strong and patient as always. The short thin cane cracked on the front and sides of my thighs and my breasts. The judge watched with envy and, alas, the added pair of eyes viewing my intimate subjugation brought me to an exploding climax. I ejaculated on the table with Abdul’s final deep thrust, humiliated by my forced exhibition before the judge... chagrined to enlighten concerning the strange joy brought by the degradation... the pain... the abject display of my pierced charms.

After the required viewing in the courtyard Lantita put me into the limousine for the ride back. I had no idea how many strokes were left in my sentence. It no longer seemed important.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

'96 Months' IX

That night Lantita surprised me with an elaborate meal. At last there seemed to be a distinct advantage of serving my time at the farm as opposed to the prison. Lantita explained that the Princess wanted me well fed and there would be exercises to tone my body.

After finishing, Lantita led me by my nose ring to the Princess’s bedroom. There she placed me with my back against the wall standing on a small step stool. My wrist bands were hooked to the wall at waist height, then the neck collar and waist band. She instructed me to lift my right leg off the stool. When I did, she spread it outwards and attached the thigh and ankle bands to hooks on the wall. After likewise attaching the left leg, she removed the stool. I was suspended on the wall spread eagled. My weight was comfortably held by the strong smooth steel bands. Lantita played with my nipples until they hardened and I could feel a twinge between my legs. She then stepped back, reminded me to point my toes, turned off the lights and left me in darkness.

This became a very familiar position for me. During my entire stay at the farm I would never rest in a prone position. It was one of the elements of control the Princess demanded. She took pleasure in knowing that I would have to learn to sleep in an upright posture.

My head slumped somewhat. I moved it until I found a comfortable way of propping it against the neck collar. I believe I slept but it was very lightly. After what seemed like hours the lights came on and the Princess entered the room with the blond teenagers.

"Come look at your Mistress’s new toy."

All three approached. I noticed the girl was just beginning to develop breasts.
"See my handiwork? What do you think?"

Princess Rosanna was playing with the gold chains causing my labia to spread even further. Both children laughed when the diamonds popped into view.

"Go ahead. See what she tastes like, Paula. But be careful, no orgasms."

I was shocked when the little girl, whose head was just above my waist, bent slightly and stuck out her tongue. It was huge. She positioned her face about three or four inches from my pussy. From that position the girl could touch my genitalia with her tongue! She ran the tip up one lip and down the other. Princess Rosanna and Paul watched as I wriggled helplessly.

"Both Paul and Paula have had extensive tongue training. Hours and hours of stretching and exercise. And they love to use them. Yes. Its one of the few pleasures they have. Paul’s been fixed and Paula’s been trimmed. So this is what they are left with, giving oral pleasure."

I moaned and thrust out my pussy toward the invading lips. Paula quickly moved her head back and stopped.

"She’s very good at teasing. So is Paul. You’ll enjoy watching them work the livestock.

"Enough. Bedtime!"

The blonds jumped into bed and Princess Rosanna retreated to an adjoining bathroom. After a time she came out wearing a silk bathrobe. She approached me. Patted my cheeks and played with the gold chains attached to my nose ring.

"Point your toes!"

I complied. She then removed her robe, hung it on the bed poster and climbed in with Paul and Paula.

This glimpse of the naked Princess was shocking. She was very well formed. Shapely but somewhat muscular. Like a gymnast, except she was too tall. But what drew my attention was the protruding clitoris. The tip poked through her labia and was close to the size of a miniature penis.

She positioned herself between the blond teenagers and their heads disappeared below the covers. With the flip of a switch the lights went off. As I tried to resume sleeping in my state of arousal, I could hear the occasional rustling of sheets and moans of ecstasy.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

'96 Months' VIII

The Princess had said she had a propensity for restraint and I received my share that very first day. I remained connected to the chair for about an hour. I couldn’t move my head and the muscles in my neck strained to hold any weight off the nose ring. Finally, the Princess returned. She held a very thin leash in her hand.

"Let me look at you. Spread your cheeks so I can see your new jewelry."

I complied, of course, and could feel the small gold chains pull on the rings attached to my labia as I separated my knees.

"Oh, its beautiful! When your lips part the diamonds pop into view and sparkle in the light."

She released the nose ring.


I stood. When my lips closed I could feel all the new paraphernalia rubbing my inside lips. Also the clitoral ring jutted out and caused strange sensations. Princess Rosanna laughed as I looked down at my pubes.

"I’m told one never gets used to it. You’ll always have the submissive feeling that your parts are enslaved. And, I suppose they are."

She reached down and hooked the fine leash to the clitoral ring. It was made of strands of woven silk and an animal of any size could break away from it. But when the Princess pulled very gently, the sharp pain was over bearing and I quickly stepped toward her to relieve the tension.

"Effective don’t you think? Don’t worry, it’s more something for you to think about and remind you of your status than for control and restraint. It makes me feel delightfully dominant. Just a little flick of my wrist can turn you into a begging groveling dog."

She demonstrated with the slightest tug and I gasped. She laughed.

"Let’s go for a walk. We’ll start slowly."

The Princess tied her end of the leash around her wrist and turned to the door. I followed, carefully timing my steps to coordinate with hers and keep the leash slack.


During our walk around the grounds the Princess talked about herself. Her need to dominate, to inflict pain, humiliation, suffering. She told of how these proclivities had more or less caused her exile her from the Royal family. She was very frank and I woefully realized the role I was to fulfill.

She had inherited money. But she also needed to cover the costs of operating the farm. Selling dates and coconuts wasn’t going to support her lifestyle, she realized. So, she had purchased livestock. I remembered she had described the facility as a breeding farm, but I was not sure what that entailed until we approached the stable, as she referred it.

It was an amazing scene! Stepping inside the tall white stucco building through wide double doors there Lantita stood before six wooden stocks. Two were empty but the other four entrapped the head and wrists of men. All were gagged except the one on the end which Lantita was feeding. The heavy wooden stocks were arranged in a quarter circle so that the men’s faces pointed toward a post in the middle of the large high ceilinged room. A partition between each set of stocks blocked the side view of the imprisoned men. They could not see each other.

The stock on the end was set back about two feet from the other five. The hole in the middle was larger and the two holes on each side a little smaller. If was designed to entrap a man’s neck, he would have to be a giant. But that wouldn’t explain the smaller apertures for the wrists.

Lantita was spooning a brown mush into the mouth of an oriental man. Hanging from his pierced ear was a leather tag with the number "5" burned into it. The Princess moved to the rear of the heavy wooden stocks and I followed.

"This is the essence of our business."

The oriental man was stripped naked. His feet were restrained in a spreader bar forcing his knees wide apart. Perched on a small table under his buttocks was a basin of water with tubes connected to it. The Princess reached into the water and pulled out a huge set of testicles. They were the size of small apples. The man stirred at her touch.

"These are the most well endowed men in the world. Have you ever seen bigger? I’ve searched the globe for this collection."

She was beaming with pride as she spoke. She released the scrotum and moved the table and water basin aside. The heavy sac fell to knee level and curiously swung as the Princess continued to speak. She then reached between the man’s thighs and pulled back an enormous penis. It was flaccid but was well over 12 inches. the prepuce of the uncircumcised organ was pierced by a gold clasp.

"I’ve infibulated every one. It’s a simple procedure first done by Roman women on their slaves. The prepuce is pierced on each side just under the tip. As you can see he can relieve himself but tumescence is impossible. Unless of course you remove the clasp, like this."

Princess Rosanna deftly pinched the clasp and freed the tip.

"If I allow it, he’ll slowly bring himself to erection. He’s full of hormones and a special diet. When was he last masturbated, Lantita?"

"Ten days, Princess."

"Well then, he’ll be ready if an order comes in. You see, we sell his semen. You’d be amazed at the number of wealthy women who enjoying breeding over sized men."
The huge penis was slowly engorging itself and the tip was turning purple.

"That’s enough."

The Princess pinched the prepuce. The man indiscernibly cried out into his gag. She lined up the openings and callously replaced the clasp, cruelly ignoring his muffled entreaty. Replacing the water basin she explained its function.

"The testicles should be kept below body temperature for best performance. For number Five here we’ve found that 94 degrees provides the highest sperm count. Every man is a little different but almost all produce best between 90 and 95 degrees. You can see that the water constantly circulates through a heater."

She led me from one man to another. An African, a blond who was presumably Nordic, a Latino, a Caucasian.

"We run this operation very scientifically. My livestock are in excellent physical condition, although over time their mental state deteriorates. But the reason I brought you to the farm, besides the pure enjoyment of tormenting you, is that we are finding that the testosterone levels are declining. So, just as a bull needs ovulating cows to become excited, I’m going to use you to rut my livestock. Yes, I can tell you’ve already got their attention."

She was patting the buttocks of the Nordic as she spoke. The man arched his back and thrust his buttocks higher as best he could. He was seemingly grateful for the soft touch, a rote reaction beseeching for more attention..

"The body will produce generous quantities of testosterone if the mind sends the right signals. Your role will be to focus their minds."

Reaching the end of the row we moved back to the front of the stocks. The Princess positioned me in front of the Latino. My pussy was inches from his nose and gagged mouth. He wriggled and craned his neck forward as best he could.

"Isn’t it exciting. One the largest, most viral men money can buy under my control. Lantita, what’s the situation on number ten?"

"We have an order in house, Princess. He’ll produce for us tomorrow. I think it’s best to give him another day. He knows the order is in. They produce best when the anticipation is allowed to build."

Princess Rosanna instructed me to spread my thighs. The gold chains instantly spread my lips and I could detect my own feminine odor caused by the exercise and the arousal of inspecting the naked livestock bringing stimulation. The Latino became noticeably excited. The Princess laughed.

"I think it’s working already."

She inserted two fingers into my well lubricated vagina and gently pinched my right nipple. This increased my arousal and after wriggling her fingers about and significantly increasing the flow of my juices she extracted the wet digits and held them under the Latino’s nose.

"Well, number ten, enjoy."

The Princess rubbed her fingers on the lips, nose and cheeks of the Latino and my feminine fragrance seemingly filled the room. She dipped her fingers again and proceeded to smear the Latino’s entire face with my essence. When she finished his face glistened and he struggled against the heavy stocks in frustration.

"He’ll be ready for you tomorrow, Lantita." Princess Rosanna was laughing

Monday, July 11, 2011

'96 Months' VII

Over the next few days I quickly learned the rules of the house and much about Princess Rosanna’s odd propensities. I was to remain silent at all times in the presence of the Princess and could talk to Lantita when alone with her and only with her permission.

I was never allowed to lie down. It would take much time to become accustomed to sleeping in an upright position, but Lantita and the Princess provided much support in helping me learn.

The Princess enjoyed restraint as she had mentioned, but I was not prepared for the extent she demanded. I was therefore put on a program where Lantita stretched and vigorously massaged my ligaments and muscles until I was as supple as a ballet dancer. Some of the Princess’s favorite positions for me were impossibly painful for a normal person. But then the pain was what made the position of such interest to the Princess.

That first day Lantita took me to the Princess’s office. Against one wall was a strange metal pipe which came straight down from the ceiling. It ended at the height of my waist. But at the end two bars were attached which swiveled right and left, parallel to the floor at waist level. The pipe had various eye hooks welded to it and their use soon became evident. Lantita pushed my back to the pipe and hooked my neck collar to it. Then my arm bands, wrist bands and waist band. The bar to my right was swung out and Lantita politely asked me to lift my leg. She then attached the leg band and ankle band, causing my right leg to jut out in front of me. When she did the same to my left leg, I was completely suspended on the pipe, my weight being held by the bands. It was then that she began to separate my legs and the pain started. She laughed as I winced and groaned.

"You’ll soon be quite supple. We’ll work together."

We did, for hours. The goal was to have my legs straight out to my sides providing the Princess with maximum access to my genitalia. Always with toes pointed. It was another one of the rules. Toes always pointed.

That first day was painful. But no day when the Princess was at the farm was easy. She was demanding in her restraint and found it entertaining. I was the main show.

On that first day, after having secured the bars out to the side at an acceptable position, Lantita left me.

Stretching causes an interesting level of pain. It gnaws. It doesn’t overwhelm, but it doesn’t go away. After a number of hours, I thought about the sharp succinct canings of Abdul and found them preferable to the slow unending suspension on the pipe. Finally Princess Rosanna entered.

"Toes pointed," she reminded me.

The Princess wheeled a small cart in front of me. It was covered with a starched white cloth and contained various instruments.

"I like jewelry. Do you? Yes. Well, you’re going to wear some for me. You’re going to look very pretty for your next caning."

The Princess lit a small alcohol lamp. As a nurse I recognized the procedure. I was to be pierced.

"You may yell and scream if you wish. No one will hear you outside the farm. But please remain still. Hot needles in the wrong place can do damage."

As she spoke she pushed down on a lever on the wall. The pipe, with me attached, slowly descended until my spread legs almost touched the floor. My face was at the level of the cart. I stared into the flame of the lamp in fear.

She started with my nose. A quick jab below the septum. Tears ran uncontrollably. The pain seared through me. But the heat of the needle instantly cauterized the wound.

She stepped back and let the needle cool, then selected a golden ring from the table. The needle was removed and the ring inserted. It closed with a final click.

"Oh, yes. It’s quite becoming."

Next were my ears, which were comparatively pain free. Rings were inserted.

"I’m very fond of jewelry, fashion, beauty. You’re going to be my household pet. Yes, I’m going to decorate you."

The Princess strung a thin gold chain from the nose ring through my right ear ring then to an eye hook on my neck collar. A similar chain draped the left side of my face and through the left ear ring and to the collar.

"The chains have no function. They’re just baubles. But they’re indicative of your status."

The Princess pushed a lever on the wall and the pipe slowly moved up toward the ceiling with me attached of course. My well spread thighs and exposed vaginal lips were slightly higher then the original position. Princess Rosanna caressed my lips and inserted two fingers.

"My but you are the masochist. You’re aroused. Well, you’ll enjoy the rest of the day. We’re just getting started."

How right she was. Slowly and deliberately my outer labia were pierced countless times, each time I screamed in agony and fought against the heavy tungsten steel bands that held me in suspension. Princess Rosanna smiled with each of the screams and protestations, but did not falter in her endeavors. Each lip was pierced in four places with diamond studs. But the devilish Princess placed the sharply cut diamonds on the inside of my lips and the smooth gold backing of the stud on the outside. This would make vaginal intercourse almost impossible, as she explained it, since the sharp edges of the diamonds would serve to scratch and scrape any penetrating phalanx. In the middle of each lip, with two studs above and two below, the Princess inserted a golden ring. Again, just decorative, she explained.

I was soaking wet with sweat and my voice was hoarse from my screams. She rested and patted me with a towel. I thought about the quiet confinement of the prison and wished to return. Was it possible to violate parole? The Princess sensed my reservations.

"I’m almost done here. Just one more, today. But on another day there will be others. You’re going to be a very pretty girl. I’m going to do your arms and legs eventually. You will display my jewelry and be reminded of your servitude. But nothing on your buttocks and breasts. I don’t want to interfere with Abdul’s work.
The canings take precedent."

She let me rest more. One of the blond teenagers entered and strolled over to where the Princess sat.

"And how is my little Paul? Come sit with me."

The castrated boy sat on the Princess’s lap facing me with his back to her. He smiled at the salacious scene of my genitalia adorned with gold rings and diamonds.

"Our new pet, Paul."

The boy placed a leg on each side of the Princess’s thighs. His pink member was plainly visible. It was small but oddly prominent because of the empty scrotal sac below.

"He likes the feel of my silk skirt, don’t you Paul? Yes. And Nurse Hopkins excites you doesn’t she?"

Yes. I was amazed to see the boy’s tiny member slowly become engorged. The Princess moved her left hand under his bottom and brushed the underside of the small semi-erect penis.

"Has Lantita milked you this week? Hmm. No. Well let me help you."

Princess Rosanna began moving her left hand under the boy and grabbed a tissue from the tray. She looked up at me.

"Castrated boys have a problem with fluids. His prostate keeps producing pre-ejaculatory fluid with no where to go. It frustrates him. His system needs to release it but can’t. So once a week Lantita milks him. See. Look at yourself Paul. So much nasty stuff."

A clear sticky substance oozed from the boy and was captured by the tissue in the Princess’s hand. The boy was clearly experiencing pleasure under the humiliating ministrations of the Princess.

"Yes. Give it all to me. Be a good boy."

He did. Then the flow curtailed and the boy slid to the floor. Princess Rosanna went to a small connecting bathroom and washed her hands.

"Paul and Paula are from Sweden. They cost me a lot of money. Paternalistic societies do not give up their children cheaply."

She returned, snapped her fingers and pointed to a spot in front of the chair where she had sat. Paul immediately knelt facing the chair. The Princess lifted her skirt and slowly sat lowering the skirt over the boy’s head.

"He’s very well trained. He and his sister. I’ve had their tongues stretched and strengthened. Its usage is their sole function for being here."

A look of pleasure crossed her face and she smiled.

"Oh, Paul. That’s very good."

She patted the top of his head which was bobbing under her skirt.

"Now, Little One. Let’s finish."

Two more gold chains were used. She attached one end to the waist band, threaded it through my labia ring then to the band on my thigh. The other chain was likewise threaded through opposite labia ring. She tightened both chains, pulling my lips well apart. The room air passing over my well exposed clitoris felt strange. She laughed.

"Oh, yes. You’re going to look very servile with your new jewelry."

A small brush was retrieved from the tray and the Princess gently stroked, prodded and poked my little man. I squirmed with the pleasure and could feel the blood rush to my genitalia.

"Your little toy is becoming red and stiff, Little One. Normally I don’t like to use anesthetic. But for you, maybe just a touch of benzocaine."

I was dripping, but also apprehensive. Everything Princess Rosanna had done to me had resulted in great pain. What was next? She held up another gold ring for my inspection. It was larger than the others but made of a finer gauge.

"This is for your little thing. Yes, don’t look so alarmed. You didn’t think I’d allow your most important organ to escape my control? You’ll wear this with pride. And I think you’ll find it will increase your awareness of your sexual organs. It will cause your clitoris to swell and become more sensitive. All for my enjoyment of course, not yours."

I struggled against the bands holding me fast to the pipe. It was hopeless. She picked a needle heated it with the lamp and I vaguely remember the air rushing from my lungs and a loud scream that I guess came from me. I don’t know how long I was out. I awoke with the odor of ammonia under my nose.

"That wasn’t so bad was it Little One? I changed my mind about the benzocaine. I enjoy the procedure more without it and knew you wouldn’t need it."

The Princess released me from the pipe. My feet touched the floor then the collar, waist, wrist and arm bands were unhooked. The arm bands remained connected together. This left my hands mobile but unable to touch my privates which I was wont to do after the Princess’s attentions.

I could not stand and slowly my knees buckled. I lay on the floor momentarily and the Princess admonished me. I was never to be allowed to assume such a position, she sternly reminded me. For some reason I kissed her feet, I guess thinking it would mollify her and I could continue lying. But it was to no avail. She reached down and hooked her pinky finger into my new nose ring and pulled up. I winced with agony. My head rose quickly and I got up on my knees to follow the tugging finger.

"I’ll let you rest a little. Than I want to take you for a walk. There’s much to see and I want you to fully understand your new role of complete submission here at the farm."

The Princess led me to an easy chair and hooked the nose ring to an eye hook on the arm. I was to learn over the ensuing weeks that the house was covered with these small hooks. Walls, window sills, door frames, all types of furniture, etc. She could attach me anywhere, and with my hands restrained, I was helpless.

She left the room with Paul, playfully patting his naked posterior.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

'96 Months' VI

Days after returning to prison, I was taken to the doctor and given a full examination. He also carefully measured various areas of my body with a tape measure and recorded the circumference of my neck, wrists, biceps just above the elbow, ankles, thighs just above the knees and waist. He commented on how much he would miss me, as the trimmed Arab girls were no where near as much enjoyment as a full lipped European. I kept silent and made a note to thank the Princess for my deliverance from the cruel doctor.

That night Solana squatted over my face and I tasted her flesh for the last time. I would miss her.

The next morning I was taken from the prison and placed stripped naked into a limousine with my wrists tied in back of me. Princess Rosanna was in the back seat and guided me to the floor of the car.

"Kneel. We have an appointment and then we’ll go right to the farm. Your sentence has been commuted from eight years in prison to time served. However, you’re on lifetime parole in my custody. As discussed, the 500 lashes stand."

I kissed her feet in gratitude.

"Remember. If you violate parole, I will send you back to prison. None of the time spent at the farm will count toward your sentence."

It was an interesting situation. I would never see England again unless I went back and completed my sentence. Thoughts of escaping from the farm entered my mind. How secure could it be compared to the prison?

The limousine stopped on the outskirts of the city in an industrial area. The driver, a black woman, honked the horn in front of the overhead doors of a warehouse. The doors slowly opened and the car drove into a dank, hot, dust covered steel hut.

Princess Rosanna helped me from the car. A large, burly, Arab stood staring at me, then motioned me to a table. For whatever reason, I immediately got up on the table and knelt, fully displaying my genitalia. The Arab laughed. Princess Rosanna smiled and released my wrists.

"I’m having you shackled, Little One. The farm is 100 miles from the nearest city, so escape is difficult. But I have a certain proclivity for restraint. Severe and complete restraint."

She nodded to the Arab. The powerful black woman who was driving stood on the opposite side of the table. She also smiled.

"These trinkets cost a lot of money. Custom made of tungsten steel. You’ll find them quite heavy."

The Arab slipped a broad manacle over my right wrist, then closed it with a clasp.

"Almost impossible to cut without special tools."

The manacle was somewhat lose and could be slipped up and down my forearm about three or four inches. The Arab slid a protective piece of leather under the manacle and touched the clasp with a welding rod. The quick, bright spark frightened me.

"Mohammed has spent much time crafting these items. You’ll find the surface to be smooth and it won’t irritate your skin."

The left wrist was quickly encircled. Then my biceps, ankles, thighs, neck, and finally my waist. All were welded shut Each band of steel had several eye hooks attached to it. The number of different ropes, cords, thongs and chains etc. that could be used to secure the bands and therefore my body was countless. When finished, I stepped off the table as commanded, but fell to the floor. The added weight of the "trinkets", as the Princess referred to them, was enormous. All laughed at my struggles.

"You’re 110 pounds and are carrying about 30 pounds of steel. I can attach additional weights to the eye hooks, if necessary. So, any plans to escape across the desert will be very tiring. Also, you’ll find that the steel gets very hot in the sun. Don’t think about long walks in the desert."

We got back into the car for the two hour trip to the farm. Princess Rosanna clipped the steel arm bands together connecting my elbows behind me. This caused me to thrust out my breasts and the Princess toyed with them as I knelt. We watched miles of sand pass by the window and she talked about herself and the farm.


An oasis is a most unusual place. Water makes all the difference between sand and dust and lush green vegetation. Princess Rosanna had inherited the oasis/farm from her father. It was not the most valuable asset he had owned, but in the Islamic culture to bequeath anything to a daughter is very rare. It seems the Princess’s father knew of her odd propensities and felt it better that she be isolated. And, she had never married. This was odd for Saudi royalty. But as I learned more about the Princess I understood her celibacy.

The twenty acres were filled with palm trees and dense reeds and grass. Paths had been cut through but from where the large black woman parked the limousine, no buildings could be seen.

We stepped out. Princess Rosanna walked ahead. The black woman, I later learned her name was Lantita, snapped a leash on my collar.

The Princess paused and looked back.

"Just until you get used to being here we’ll keep you carefully restrained. After you have learned the rules you’ll have more freedom when I’m not present."

Lantita led me through the tall grasses. Within minutes a house appeared. It was white stucco. One story. A thatched roof, presumably made from the grasses grown at the oasis. Modest in design but large. Another building a short distance away was taller but not as spacious. Lantita referred to it as the stable.

As we approached the house two young teenagers ran toward us from the porch. They were naked with blond hair shaped in the style of a page boy. Similar in appearance from a distance, I was surprised to see that one was a girl and one was a boy. Except that as I looked closely, the boy had been gelded. Both smiled and ran to the Princess with open arms. They were short in stature and the top of their heads only reached to the Princess’s shoulder. They both hugged her.

"Well, children, we have someone to play with."

She introduced me as Nurse Hopkins. I hadn’t heard my name in a long while and it sounded foreign. She put her arms around the necks of the two and we all proceeded to the house.