Saturday, March 31, 2012

'To Serve Intact' V

Totally obedient, Master spares the crop. Some taps, to inspire speed and such are curiously welcomed, but otherwise there is no need to inflict outright pain. I know to run and respond to the reins.

One mile, two, rushing air whistles through my bit. Knees pump, my feet pound the soil, my balls slap against thighs moving in fervor, my erection, somewhat softening, waggles left then right. In passing the occasional native islander I am quite the sight, quite the symbol of a woman’s governance.

In time, Master’s impressive abode, another token of the Emperor’s appreciation, comes into sight. I feel the reins draw and know to slow. There begins the ritual of arrival, my Master knowing that the extensive exertion has brought softness... undesired softness.

My pace is brought to a stroll. I feel fingers brush my sweat laden back. She grasps the cord, that connecting anal hook and yoke. She pulls both tightening the cord and stirring the hook, causing the bulbous tip to knead and abrade. I feel a brisance of joy... odd gratitude... feeling my Master’s touch so deep within.

Months of forced chastity, never ever to again sense the joy of orgasm, Master’s tendance has vicariously become a form of ecstatic relief.

Yes, as she desires... as she demands... my stiffness renews. When she pulls firmly on the reins before the stable building, I know to stop. A smiling naked Brandi steps out to greet a well bound human pony fully erect, the diamond studded tip of my penis reaching skyward.

Master dismounts, stepping back into view. She looks down at the tribute I offer, the symbol of male virility now transformed to a symbol of thorough feminine governance and control. She smiles.

"Good boy," the simple words bringing a surge of pride as she continues peering downward at a massive phallus, engorged at her behest. I no longer experience chagrin in being so exposed and displayed. There is the pride of the meek, the well tamed. I know it pleases... and therefore I am pleased.

"Milk him, Brandi. I won’t be running him again for a few days," a finger playfully tapping my nose.

To be milked... such humiliation... but such distant ephemeral joy.

"And do be sure to ice him well," her words offered in warning.

I am never to experience pleasure in being expunged of male essence.

Master departs. I am now under the authority of Brandi... young Brandi... neutered Brandi... effeminate Brandi.

The waist belt making me one with the cart is unbuckled and allowed to fall to the soil, the cart’s prongs landing with a thud. The bridle is likewise unbuckled and the bit slipped away. The yoke remains as always and the diminutive Brandi reaches up and slips a tiny finger through my nose ring.

"Master is happy," a girlish voice notes with a cute smile.

She turns. Though the arm reaches up, still I must walk somewhat stooped, knowing to carefully follow the finger. The intensity of the pain when the nostril ring is stressed cannot be described. It is instant and complete.

Into the stable, to the grooming table, I know to step up and kneel on the low platform, bending at the waist. Brackets left and right secure my yoke. My ankle bands are attached to waiting chains. I am immobilized. Such no longer brings distress. I am well worn, running with alacrity, pulling my Master with energy depleting zeal. I need the respite.

Brandi steps behind. I feel soft caring fingers... perhaps too caring... cradle my balls. Another moment of adulation... hers long ago dropping, no doubt becoming feed for the Emperor’s hogs. The cord at my yoke is untied. Knowing hands work the anal hook. The specially shaped tip is stout. I am grateful to feel it coaxed from my sphincter with circumspection. It exits with a plop. Next the horrid urethral agitator is pressed to retract the spikes holding it in place. It is slipped out... to be returned when Master next chooses to run me and have my penis stand for her.

Then begins a cleansing. Sprayed with warm water, laved in soap, I become a pampered pet... Master’s prized pony. As I kneel, my only task, my sole responsibility completed, the care of my body ceded to the effeminate castrate Brandi, my mind wanders... back to the modification chamber...

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Outstanding story! I've been away too long!