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.


Anonymous said...


I absolutely love this story. This has been a fantasy of mine for ever. Your writing is engaging and exciting. I hope this doesn't end any time soon!

Chris Bellows said...

Thank you for the support.

MC/Visa will put quite a dent in the revenues but I'll keep writing.

This very early work will be hard to finish but I'll give it a try.

Fortunately I no longer write myself into corners as it seems I have done with this work.