Saturday, November 5, 2011

'Power, Gaining It', (Part Two of Two)

I love the look on Trevor’s face as, for the first time, I try out the leash and nipple clamps. It does not require much to control Harold, responding instantly to verbal commands. But that can make a woman seem cheeky, constantly uttering sharp pitched words of authority.

So I have each nipple clamped... very modestly... and connected by a slim chain. To that I attach the new dog leash and Harold most meekly follows the slightest motion of my hand. In this manner I can be a controlling bitch without sounding like a controlling bitch, no forceful utterances required for total obedience.

Thus I return to the bedroom, leash in hand, disregarding my open robe which flashes all womanly things pink. Trevor appears aghast, surveying a woman, one of supreme governance, leading about a naked well restrained male. And I must smile noting that his hormone laden male brain wants to visually ravage my display of feminine charms... but his curiosity demands a thorough inspection of Harold as well.

Yes, Harold is quite the sight... chains clattering... freshly shaven... well oiled... Mia coated him with fragrant lotion disturbingly effeminate. Yes, Harold glows, attracting the ears, eyes and nose.

I note Trevor is down to his boxer shorts... and that the front is strained by the erection I induced moments ago. I am heartened that the small parade has not brought flaccidity. So whatever his concerns, such do not temper his needs.

"See what I bought for you Harold," I coo gesturing to the steel cage as if offering a birthday gift to a child.

Curious that I can feel Harold trembling through the taut leash, another wonderful aspect of the controlling length of leather. Harold is not displayed often to others, and never before another male... intact male. So I am sure absent the nipple clamps and attached leash, he would turn and dash from the room as quickly as his hobbling chains permit.

"Come, don’t be afraid. This is Trevor, a nice boy who’s helped with your new cage. I’m going to fuck him,"
I proclaim as my leash hand lowers and Harold immediately knows to fall to his knees.

The cage is some three feet high. A large door offers entry, to be closed shut utilizing a latch... simple for a human to release, yet not to be opened by creatures with paws. I make a note to purchase a formidable padlock... maybe two or three just to make Harold feel extremely secure. I would not want him to ever think he can free himself. Psychologically that won’t do. He must constantly feel under the control of a woman. It is important for him.

"Well Trevor, without a lock, it appears I’ll have to improvise a little to ensure my husband feels properly secured in place. It is best for males like him."

With that, I draw a kneeling Harold, knees shuffling, into the cage, my hands exchanging the leash through the bars to guide him well away from the door. Though his wrists remain secured behind his back, I would not want to let him think he can some how work the latch.

So at the far end, of the eight foot by six foot enclosure. I tie the nipple leash to the bars, limited slack in ensuring that Harold stays well away from the latched opening.

"There, a perfect view of the bed," I cannot help noting as I spy tears of humiliation streaming down Harold’s cheek.

I turn to see that Trevor’s stunned look has transformed to one of observation, that of scientist in the laboratory.

"He... he can’t talk."

"Never. It does lead one to occasionally guess at what it is he would say... times like this when his wife is going to have a long night of deep penetrating sex. But then, it really would not matter, would it, Harold?"

"That thing... on his cock."

"Just a little chastity device. Hardened steel, the tube is filled with nasty little spikes to ensure his thoughts remain pure... which they don’t of course. He constantly hurts himself."

With that I toss off my bathrobe to exhibit myself in the buff to husband and Saturday night bull lover. Trevor ceases staring at Harold and I approach to assure he is in the proper frame of mind, once again caressing that massive appendage through the boxer shorts.

"It is best for inadequate boys like Harold," my voice resuming its sultry ‘lets fuck’ tone, my free hand pushing him backwards towards my bed.

I smile in hearing Harold whine, his only form of protest.

"Right here, in front of him?" finally dawning on Trevor my own frame of mind.

"It so nicely empowers a woman like me, Trevor. And overall it’s good for beta males like Harold," turning my head to see the eyes of my sullen husband riveted on my nakedness and Trevor’s bulging shorts.

"You can further inspect Harold later, Trevor. Even take him for a walk if you’d like."

I stoop, move my hands to his hips, the fingers right and left hooking the waist band of his shorts, his sole remaining garment. Such boldness, I pull downward quickly and with eagerness. Then I step back as Trevor instinctively kicks away the rumpled shorts to finally present himself to me.

I have chosen well.


The bedroom smells of sweat and the heated feminine essence which coats Trevor’s entire pubes. Being on top... I am always on top... my quim exuded copiously. Plus I ejaculate with orgasm, something that enthused my bull lover, so there’s been a notable exchange of bodily fluids.

Grunts, groans, moans... but hearing Harold’s mournful well muffled pleas brought the most enjoyable audio input. Leashed in the cage, his head and face are inches from where Trevor and I lie basking in the glow of carnal embrace.

Not having been penetrated in weeks, sexual release coming by way of the tongue and lips of my castrated servant, my vagina proved to be incredibly tight, making Trevor most appreciative and Harold doubly distraught as I announced that fact in first mounting him.

But a woman of my ilk, quite earnest in matters of copulation, slowly lowered herself, pausing to enhance Trevor’s thrill and allow the vaginal walls to stretch in accommodation and further moisten. Then I rode him like a cow girl, hips plunging, vigorously bringing forth the friction which a good fucking demands.

Trevor, I judge to be in his early twenties, proved to have good stamina... not the best... that will come with my training... but he certainly lasted long enough to bring forth two orgasms before he in turn exploded deeply, the splurge I am sure dousing my cervical opening.

So now in satiation, Trevor the bull returns his attention to Harold, glumly kneeling in his new cage, forced in chastity to view his wife eagerly copulate with a well hung man of color.

Such precious moments.

I roll to the far side, reach to Trevor’s semi flaccid organ and draw it upwards for Harold to better view. Even when not turgid it is impressive and I smile wickedly as I emulate a hand job for Harold to watch in both shame and envy.

"What’s with the mouth thing," Trevor needing to know more.

"It silences... it degrades... and orally keeps him well open for anything we want to induce."

With that my right hand retreats from Trevor’s impressiveness to reach to my wet and steamy love pouch, filled with Trevor’s spending. Fingers gingerly work, my reddened feminine flesh well worn, and find a goblet of spunk... thick... creamy... brimming with the seed of life. I scoop.

"Watch," feeling it necessary to offer ‘poor’ Harold some attention.

I arise from the bed. It is only one step to the cage. My dry hand takes the leash and draws in what little slack I permitted, forcing Harold to press his face to the bars. I then introduce the slime of my wet fingers, first letting the substance drip between the slim bars of the molt gag then carefully smearing tongue and lips with the combination of semen and vaginal fluid.

"In being forced open, his mouth is essentially transformed to a sink and a drain... whatever goes into the sink eventually finds its way down the drain. You’ll note he can’t eject or spit anything out."

I push back on Harold’s forehead letting gravity work, the slime leaching to the back of his throat.

"Yum, yum Harold, swallow for me."

He has no choice but to comply, his gag reflex not permitting him to choke. And sure enough with a notable gulp, the foul mass disappears. I laugh evilly, turning to see Trevor smiling.

Yes, I have found quite the bull.

"‘We’... you said ‘we’," Trevor inadvertently entangling himself further in my web.

"I have a maid. Keeping a male in constant restraint requires much attentive care... feeding... washing... shaving. As a matter of fact Trevor, for your next visit, I’ll want you trimmed... down there. Pubic hair can be quite distracting and my maid will accommodate."

I will have to remember to find some little pink panties for Mia.... to be worn only for Trevor’s introduction of course. That little penis of hers can turn off the homophobic male... and I certainly do not want my bull stud turned off.


Wealth, power, abundant sex... and only the way I like it.

Plus some subservient males... one a former male.

Yes, in addition to Harold, my bull stud Trevor is in fact subservient... to me. Psychologically I know he experiences odd empathy in viewing my shackled, caged and chastised Harold. Still he readily joins in the fun, literally rattling Harold’s cage after every Saturday night of torrid love making. No longer bashful about displaying his full standing member... and his sexual prowess... as I offer slow teasing hand jobs as a prelude to coupling... Trevor is given to tauntingly press his golden brown manhood through the bars before succumbing to my charms and rather docilely lying beneath me while I fuck him with fervor.

Knowing that Harold can neither bite nor touch, Trevor flauntingly displays himself and Harold’s combined look of envy and distress never ceases to amuse. And Trevor in turn shows this occasional look of relief... communicating the thought that but for Harold providing the drastic form of entertainment which a woman of my predilection demands, it would be he caged, shackled and chastised.

‘But for size, stamina and vigor, there go I’, I read his thoughts.

After a couple of Saturday evening rendevous, Gigi out of the house, I have a pantied Mia answer Trevor’s ring at the door. Having kept my neutered servant tucked away as Trevor acclimates to cuckolding Harold, part of the step by step plan is to include Mia in the cuckolding dalliances. For in time, I want Trevor to be comfortable in a bisexual environment. So tonight maid and bull stud will meet.

Since Gigi is given to prettify Mia... makeup and manicure... wearing panties brings gender confusion, the tiny remnant of one time maleness barely noticeable under shear panties, despite the tightness.

Thus, as Mia opens the door, I can’t help watching the reaction. With limited breasts Mia appears to be a prepubescent girl, despite her advanced years. And so Trevor is stunned to silence and immobility.

I step forth to intervene.

"My maid Mia, Trevor. I assure you she is of age."

This comforts and Trevor steps within, his eagerness apparent, as Mia knows to curtsy.

I know the money is only part of the equation, Harold looks so sullen when I peel off many hundreds in compensation, for Trevor arrives promptly and with a sheepish look of anticipation. Getting paid for sex... a male fantasy. And since it irritates Harold to no end, I pay handsomely.

"Mia does not speak. But I know she’s eager to get to know you. I know you’ve kept yourself trimmed below, but Mia, in taking care of Harold is quite adept. And I think you will enjoy her touch."

Spoken as I lead Trevor up the stairs to the communal bathroom where Mia has just finished shaving and bathing Harold so he can be properly displayed in his cage.

With bronzed skin and Asian features, I am sure Trevor thinks of Geisha girls and is warming to having his privates washed and shorn by my truckling servant. And guys are aware that keeping the undergrowth under control fosters the fellatio they crave.

"Strip and into the tub, Trevor. A nice warm bath first and Mia will soap you. Then I want you to join me in my bedroom. Be nice and erect for me. Mia will help there as well."

I am so devious!


Quite an effort to stifle girlish giggles as I observed Trevor sitting in bubble bath with Mia circling to chamois every inch of that marvelous youthful virility. Mia adroitly shaved, not a nick with the many Saturday nights denuding Harold. And Trevor displayed his manhood with relish, proudly letting himself become erect, not fully understanding the source of Mia’s smiling look of adoration.

So it’s to the bedroom where a caged Harold kneels in wait, smelling of fragrant soap, freshly shaven body glowing with a generous coating of lotion.

"How’s the family pet?" Trevor mockingly inquires, thrusting his hand through the bars to tousle Harold’s mane.

Standing proximate, Trevor’s organ, remaining somewhat engorged with Mia’s envious tendance, thrusts through the bars, bringing forth another comical whine from Harold. Trevor is nicely hung. And his joystick is free to stand... free to be handled... free to penetrate.

Trevor looks to see the many hundred dollar bills waiting for him on the dresser. His smile becomes one of giddiness. For some reason that really foments the male sex drive... a long night of nirvanic exchange of bodily fluids... culminating with a pocket stuffed with cash.

Whereas foreplay normally includes a slow and sordid hand job, just inches from Harold’s sullen face, I instead snap my fingers and point. Mia knows to fall to her knees, reach forth and cup the abundant balls.
She tenderly begins licking.

"Mia so much adores the male organs, Trevor. I do hope you don’t mind."

How could he object? It’s more fantasy. Homophobia not an issue with the brief pink panties cloaking what remains of Mia’s maleness, Trevor will have a mind blowing Saturday night... as will I.

The penis firms. A droplet of pre ejaculatory fluid oozes. Mia’s training in that Bangkok bordello becomes apparent. I do believe she could tease and taunt for hours, so very much aware of the male erogenous zones, vicariously knowing exactly what Trevor feels, and obediently forestalling ultimate climax.

Meanwhile Harold’s mournful look is precious... so angry... so envious... so frustrated.

I will have to unbuckle that gag at some point just to hear his fawning words.

Mia fondles and caresses, I must suppress more laughter as my sopping vagina quivers, so ready for the deep rhythmic penetration, the slow buildup of friction, the steady advance to a cascade of orgasms.

"You’re going to have quite the treat tonight, Harold," reaching forth to dab away the goo from the turgid penis tip, Mia sucking vigorously on the right gonad. "Trevor has quite the load of spunk."

I reach into the cage, my moist finger slipping past the molt gag to offer a taste of what Harold will later be feasting upon.

Yes, though spending deeply, in the glow of post coitus satiation I am given to patiently let the jism, Trevor’s seed and my essence, descend and be collected.

As I drip the fluid into Harold’s sink and listen for the gulp that sends it down the drain, Trevor so much enjoys watching Harold being fed the vestiges of our coupling.

Someday Harold will have a more direct feeding. But all in good time.

I snap my fingers again. Mia knows to withdraw and I am heartened as Trevor, like a trained dog, knows to wordlessly step to the bed and lie supine, his long thick phallus jutting straight to the ceiling like a telephone pole.

I shed my robe and join my chocolate bull stud in complete nakedness. The mattress dips as I kneel. I straddle. I grasp. I mount. Feeling the organ throb in anticipation brings exhilaration as I align and lower myself, my labia straining to part. Though tight, the mass of firm smooth warmth glides inward with ease, my quim a wellspring of welcoming juices. A long night’s ride begins, husband Harold whining in envy.

The power!


Crisbir said...

Very exciting. A frustrated man in leash as "Becoming Miss Ashley's Pet", one of your best novels. Already a black man held the husband's leash. Trevor works in a petstore , he could take some initiatives to help Harold to become a good dog, obedient and loving. He can offer some pet toys! There are all the ingredients for a new big novel of humiliation. And it would be nice to see Harold leashed in the garden, playing with Trevor... Thanks, Chris, to be so depraved. Since Victor Bruno, you're the best.

Chris Bellows said...


Thank you for the comments. I enjoy Victor Bruno's efforts so that is quite a compliment.

And to be praised as depraved!

I will continue writing and endeavor to be considered 'utterly' depraved or perhaps 'completely' depraved ('thoroughly' depraved?)

I have no irrate mother-in-law so being institutionalized is unlikely (as with the M. de Sade).



len said...

I thing I noticed about characters in these stories - for all the physical abuse they are put through, they are otherwise in tip-top physical condition.

Just wondering what sort of treatment they would receive were they to fall sick (say down with bad flu) or injured (maybe fell down the stairs?) Or is this the sort of thing stories don't deal with because it would just spoil the pacing?

Chris Bellows said...


Have a character become sick or be injured? How cruel!

Actually in writing this type of fantasy I attempt to arouse and I am not sure I can do that if the characters elicit the reader's sympathy by way of ill health.

Anyone have thoughts?



len said...

Yeah, I guess arousing even the slightest hint of sympathy would be a real killjoy, kinda like working you up into a sexual frenzy, then kicking you in the balls. ;)

So far, I feel you have been doing a fairly good job of fleshing our your "victims" as "they are so weak, they kinda deserve whatever is coming to them", I suppose it would be difficult to introduce any other sort of emotion without ruining things.

Still, have you ever tried writing along such a line? Do share! :D