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.


Anonymous said...

Wow. I love your writing. I just discovered this and find it incredibly erotic and well written. Looking forward to the next chapter.

Chris Bellows said...

Thank you anonymous. But as stated, it is an early work never before published or seen by anyone until I rediscovered it on a flash drive chocked with stuff downloaded from a long ago trashed computer.

It's choppy. The scenes move about too quickly, folding and unfolding before the intended eroticism fully develops.

It will be interesting when I finish the story, see if the readers can determine where I begin to rewrite.