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?

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