A Woman in Control - My good organizer X

My good organizer X

Jack’s chemical castration steadily advances. Cyproterone acetate injections on Fridays, a stout pill with coffee at my desk Monday through Thursday. Saturday and Sunday the pill offered as he lies in Posey cuffs.

Within two months of the deluge of cyproterone acetate, Dr. Helstadt calls to announce that the latest semen sample extracted by Nurse Benson’s electroejaculation is devoid of sperm and the testosterone level is non existent. She describes his penis size, caged except for cleaning time at the clinic, as that of an infant. I commend the good doctor on being prescient in modifying the manner in which his cock cage remains attached. With testicles shrunken to the size of peas, the scrotum appears to be an empty puff of flesh, otherwise not able to hold anything in place.

“Observe his behavior,” she advises. “It will take time for him to acclimate to the hormonal imbalance. Have fun placating his quests... soft clothing... fattening foods... pretty stuff. His emotional transformation will continue. You have a little girl,” the doctor somewhat guffawing. “Why not see what he looks like in makeup. I would be surprised if he resists...”

I guess I will.

Still, visits to Dr. Helstadt’s clinic continue. Yes, Nurse Benson continues with electroejaculation but there is no longer need to test the sample. Jack now spurts a very limited amount of clear gooey prostatic fluid. With each visit, Nurse Benson dispensing the mandatory three jolts, she shows a very distraught Jack the extracted specimen... smirking... mocking... driving home the castration... pounding into his psyche the finality of a woman’s forced transition.

It’s good for him.    

Meanwhile, I have been learning the canine control unit adapted for the male genitals... Jack’s shrinking male genitals. Dr. Helmstadt installed as described and I had one of my stud muffins, a well endowed electrician that I ride on Wednesdays, wire Jack’s apartment. Every room becomes a self contained chamber from which Jack cannot step without permission. Main door to the hallway and elevator, the doors to his old bedroom where I have moved much of my stuff, the kitchen, the bathroom and particularly the spare bedroom should he ever some how break free of the Posey cuffs and straps.

This means I can leave the apartment for errands and romantic rendevous knowing that Jack will stay where I put him. Mostly in the kitchen, where he labors for me naked before a hot stove. Try to exit... a debilitating shock to the penis and testicles, the Prince’s Wand delivering a jolt well into the viscera. 

So he must call me for bathroom visits... at which time I may graciously use my remote to momentarily turn off the charge while he moves to the desired room. Many times I delay his requested bathroom breaks... a girl has to have some fun after all.

As explained, I can also press a button and deliver a variety of charges from near or far... the remote working on the pager frequency network. There are reminder shocks, naughty boy shocks, agonizing shocks for very bad behavior.

I also enjoy delivering two quick reminder shocks every time I get laid... Jack knowing that while he labors in chastity, I am being satiated in a manner that he can never replicate. It wounds him, but it is best for his psyche. My pleasure... always first. His... only derived from pleasing me.

The difficult part of completing Jack’s electronic captivity was surreptitiously installing an antenna about the frame of his office door. For that I had to sneak my electrician friend into the office on a Sunday. But once done, the thin wire outlining the door frame is not noticed and Jack must stay in his office or call me for permission to leave. His bathroom breaks are no longer on the honor system.

As stated, I deliberately kept a small portion of the vast stash of Jack’s pornography. I scanned, selecting tasteful photos with very specific attributes. All are of fully clothed women being served in some manner by naked men. This needs to be ingrained, come of acceptance no matter the circumstances and the environment. So I develop a montage in my computer and turn it into a slide show, each picture flashing for some ten to fifteen seconds before the show continues to the next photo. Then I purchase a small inexpensive laptop and projector for the spare bedroom.

The result, directly over Jack’s face, flashing onto the ceiling of the dark barren bedroom come the photos, one after another... docile men... naked men... in servitude to charming women... fully clothed in ordinary attire, no bondage gear. It’s important that psychologically Jack’s naked subservience be mentally accepted as normal.

Brainwashing? Sure, why not? It is either staring at my relatively tasteful photos projected on the ceiling or endless darkness.    

I also surf the web and download to form a second montage, a little more specific, for later, should Jack come to resist or protest the paradigm of his new existence.  

A Woman in Control - My good organizer IX

My good organizer IX

The boy dog gave rise to thought. Virile, permitted to remain intact, the burden of relieving his loins resting with Nurse Benson... and an electrical device. I cannot help thinking of the long, broad prodigious tongue which lapped away at my shoes. It is apparent why the pup is locked up. His penis, no matter the size and prowess, is superfluous compared to the prowess that tongue can offer.

So Jack begins his treatment. A daily pill which I supervise. A weekly visit to Dr. Helmstadt’s clinic for electroejaculation and a massive injection of cyproterone acetate.

With each visit the offered semen sample is evaluated and I am pleased the sperm count is plunging... and the testosterone level.

His penis is measured and sure enough it shrinks... slowly... but quite steadily. Meanwhile I have concerns. The notion that Jack may still play... down there... disturbs. Though ineffective, such untoward conduct would distract... from thinking about me... and serving me. Dr Helmstadt referenced the phenomenon... ‘taking the hunt out of the dog’ she termed it. 

During a week three visit, I address.

“That dog, owned by the middle aged woman. He worn a chastity device,” I prompt.

“Really more than that. It’s electrified. You know there are now electrified dog collars, mandating the family pouch stay within a specified area? Well we’ve adapted it for the male... with some added features. You saw the waist band... that is the battery pack and receiving antenna.”

My curiosity is piqued.

“Should Jack have one?”

“Probably. You’ll be more comfortable when he’s not in your company. The system comes with a remote control box. He’ll stay within a confined area until you press a button and temporarily turn off the shock unit. And that can be done remotely. You can also punish at your whim, applying the voltage of your choice to penis and testicles, and do so from afar.”     

“Cost?”

“We can get it on the health insurance. We term it ‘behavior modification’.”

Clever stuff.

“With Jack’s small scrotum... and getting smaller... I recommend a slight modification from the standard unit. As you probably noted, the shock unit is anchored so to speak by a thickly gauged ring encircling the testicles.”

Dr. Helmstadt opens a cabinet, on display is an array of stainless steel gadgets. She extracts one and I note it is comprised of two parts, one with wires.

“These are the penis and scrotum rings,” she points to two rings attached to form a figure eight, a small ring atop a larger ring. ‘The small ring encircles the penis, the larger ring the scrotum. It must do so tightly, so the fit is precise. And you’d be amazed at the effort we expend in getting it in place... rather uncomfortable... but male comfort is not of much concern here.”

She next shows me a tube. 

“This is the so termed ‘cock cage’ which fits onto the control rings and locks in place, making the penis, particularly the sensitive underside of the tip, inaccessible. As you can see the interior diameter of the cock cage can be adorned with all types of nasty spikes... long and short... dull and sharp... depending on the degree of behavior to be modified. Any recalcitrance and Nurse Benson attaches within the cage the next level of spikes... to the point that the lightest degree of tumescence will bring instant agony. 

“Cruel but often necessary, I’m afraid. The male libido can be formidable. We must help the male overcome it.  

“And you see the wires, such connect to the waist belt. And it’s alarmed. Disconnect the wires and a signal is sent to the control box.”

As I stare in wonderment I believe my quim begins to moisten. Jack can work... labor in office or his kitchen... and I can be assured of where he is and that his rapidly depleting maleness is not a distraction. Plus with a press of a button I can zing him... a little reminder that he is under a woman’s control. It is best for him.

“What is the appropriate modification for Jack?”

“With his withering testicles, the control ring will fall off. So I recommend piercing him.”

Dr. Helmstadt holds up a three inch long slim shard of steel, demonstrating by pressing it to the larger testicle ring.

“We’ll merely solder this spike to the top and bottom of the testicle ring... of course I need to thrust through his ball sac first...”
 
Such insouciance... such callousness... spiking a boy’s balls.

“Will it hurt?”

“Of course. But it will also assist in transmitting the electrical shocks. Such will not be transcutaneous... instead jolting right into his precious little nuts,” the words humorously unprofessional.

“I also recommend a Prince’s Wand insertion. Again, better transmission of the current... and neater for long term bondage... which I believe you said Jack relishes. Effectively he will be partially catheterized. With draining tube attached you will have no more sloppy wet beds...”

I nod. I do plan long romantic evenings and prefer to know Jack is adequately restrained, not soiling anything while I enjoy the company of a lover... a virile lover.

“Do it,” come my final words.

A Woman in Control - My good organizer VIII

My good organizer VIII

Visiting the office/clinic of Dr. Rebecca Helmstadt, observing the skills of Nurse Benson, can be fulfilling for a woman of my penchants.

In the cab to Jack’s apartment, he wept. I consoled him.

“It’s for the best Jack. You’ll feel better. Those insatiable urges to view pornography will end. You’ll be more focused. You will enjoy serving me. You’re already calmer.”

He was indeed. The extraction of male seed offers no moments of pleasure at the clinic of
Dr. Rebecca Helmstadt. After finishing with her counsel Nurse Benson directed Jack to the ’sample room’. Expecting to be masturbated, both Jack and I were shocked.

There was a low steel table. At one end, hanging from the ceiling by chains was a device resembling medieval stocks. Nurse Benson patted the table top, indicating that Jack mount and kneel.

“Neck and wrists,” Nurse Benson instructed, tapping the semi circular openings in the stocks. 

He complied. She lowered the top and flipped a latch to secure head and hands.

“I’m going to guess a number two. Has he been used anally?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Then I am sure he’s tight.”

Nurse Benson then proceeds to work with mechanical directness. Whatever the procedure, it is evident that she has performed it countless times. The anus is lubricated. An egg shaped object is retrieved from a hanging hook. I count five others of various sizes. All have wires dangling beneath. The egg is summarily pressed into Jack’s rectum. His entreaties are of course ignored. Then the nurse enshrouds Jack’s penis tip with what I can only describe as a Texas catheter, the tube leading to a small plastic collection bag resting on the table beneath his belly. Then the wires are unraveled and plugged into a box on the nearby wall.

“Electroejaculation, quick, thorough and without a scintilla of pleasure.”

With that she presses a button. Jack spastically lurches and shouts most gutturally.

“And now a moment of rest. We used to manually extract samples, but no matter the skill of the masturbatrix, the seminal vessels are never completely emptied. Plus, many of the governing women complained about the level of pleasure offered... and probably rightfully so.”

As she speaks, I gaze at the clear collection bag. A modicum of spunk has been given up. In no way comparable to that spurted by well hung studs during my recent dates... but then again for those encounters with the male, I select based on size and virility.

Nurse Benson presses the button again. A second spastic lurch, a second guttural cry... less strident. I note there is a slight increase in effluent.

“Forty volts. Quite cathartic for them... and physically draining of course. They leave here feeling as if they’ve had a very long workout. Yes, they come in like lions and leave like lambs. And there are good psychological effects as well.”

Now the nurse enters my realm of knowledge and I must agree. Expunged of essence in this manner, the male succumbs to the notion that his seed is something to be harvested... at the whim of a woman... and painfully... not something to be spouted in ecstasy. 

The button is pressed again and I understand the function of the yoke. If not held upright, on knees and bent at the waist, a spent Jack would collapse onto the table top, impeding the flow of effluent and crushing the collection bag.

Nurse Benson seals the bag, removes the number two egg and slips away the catheter.

“He’ll need a moment to rest. I’ll let you talk things over. You may wish to consider a chastity device. Despite the cyproterone acetate, they do tend to touch themselves...”

Nurse Benson releases the latch and lifts the yoke. Jack slumps to the table top, semi conscious.

“Best time to inject him. I’ll be right back,” stepping away with the sample bag.

“Please don’t do this, Miss Montrove,” Jack whines in his stupor.

“Jack, I saw the sample. I imagine a mouse would be more fecund. Your ejaculate amounts to nothing!”  

He moans. Tears form. I need to console him.

“The company health plan will cover everything. I can offer the guidance that you need. You can cook for me. I’ll keep you bound nice and tight. And Jack, I saved some of your porn, some very nice photos that with your transformation I think you will come to enjoy even more. Jack, you’re going to lose so little and gain so much. You’ll be serving me.”

The door opens. Nurse Benson returns with a tray, alcohol swab, hypodermic needle brimming with a massive dose of anti androgen. Again she is mechanical and direct. Without a moment of hesitation, she swabs, jabs Jack’s right buttock and plunges.

“It’s for the best,” for the first time her tone soothing, the somber words offered with soft deliberation, those spoken at the funeral of the elderly and infirm.

Yes, a moment of reflection. Jack’s limited maleness is ending.

After Jack gave up his sperm sample, his recovery slow, we stroll to the reception area. There a middle aged woman has a boy on a leash. He is naked, of course, and the leash is attached to a formidable nose ring, deeply embedded. The boy kneels on all fours, his only attire a steel waist band. As Jack dresses, the cute young receptionist tosses a dog biscuit over the desk to the floor. The kneeling naked male moves with alacrity and scoops it up in his mouth without use of his hands. This brings raucous laughter from the receptionist.

“Good boy!” turning to me. “He thinks Mr. Dumond may eat it first,” explaining the haste.

Meanwhile, before Jack finishes dressing, the middle aged woman, smiling with pride, offers slack on the leash, snaps her fingers and points. Just as alacritously, the boy dog crawls to my feet and licks my shoes. I stoop and pat his head, noting that the clothing rack has only one item of clothing remaining... a simple cape... obviously worn in deference to New York City’s nudity laws.

Upon departing I look back, my line of sight for the first time offering a view from behind. Not neutered, the boy instead wears a rather intricate chastity device... steel band encircling the base of quite the sizable scrotum. The penis... not to be seen. Caged... also in steel.      

“How often do you unlock him?” I find I have to inquire.

“I don’t. No key. That’s Nurse Benson’s task... a monthly cleaning and sperm sample. You see how frisky he gets if he doesn’t get drained.”

I nod.

“Number three egg?” exhibiting my new found knowledge concerning electroejaculation.

“No, he’s used anally, opened frequently. I have some gay friends. He hates it, but it’s good discipline for him. So he takes a number five, soon to be number six,” the woman smiling wickedly.

A Woman In Control - My good organizer VII

My good organizer VII

Jack had a long weekend... at least a long Saturday night and Sunday.

Yes I kept him strapped down until Sunday night, his bondage thorough and unending. I spoon fed him, slept on his couch, checked on him every few hours. He began to hallucinate, delirium being common. And of course the psychological torment of urinating for me in a bowl, me handling his tiny thing, was exquisite.

A woman controlling a most basic male function!

Yes, I could attain lots of pleasure from the likes of Jack... and I did... thereafter every weekend.

Some subsequent events, noteworthy over and above the humdrum of endless weekend naked bondage. 

One. Yes, the maid uniform was procured. I had Jack make it more skimpy and tight. It was not to be worn for me. I liked Jack’s cooking and intended to show him off from time to time.

Two. I had Jack purchase and install an infrared video camera on the bedroom ceiling, wired to the television in the livingroom. I could survey a silhouette of his naked form while he wiled away the many hours, not interrupting his bondage session by opening the door, thus adding to the lengthy intervals of solitary immobility.

Three. Yes, by month’s end he had his ‘check up’ with Dr. Rebecca Helmstadt, a sexologist, with a medical degree, whom I knew by reputation while studying at Vassar.

A delightful woman with admirable disdain for the male gender, I called to make an appointment, explained Jack, our budding relationship, and focused on the inadequacy of his penis.

“Nothing a firm woman with resolve cannot address,” she offered with a chuckle.

I had the right doctor.

“I would like to be present and observe,” I suggest.

“Of course. Quite humiliating for him... just what he will most enjoy,” seeming to know with great perception of Jack’s ‘special need’.

“Overall, he needs to address his inadequacy,” I add.

“I suggest you do it for him. He expects it... pines for it. He’s been waiting... for you...  for the likes of you... a lifetime of secretive fantasy.”

Yes, I have chosen well.

I inform Jack... command really... and the next day, I depart work slightly early, the 5:00 p.m. appointment for Jack not to be missed. I meet him in the lobby. He is trembling with apprehension.

“Don’t worry I will be there with you.”

“In the examining room? Please no.”

“Everywhere. Jack your shyness is misplaced. We are going to help you. You have special needs which need to be addressed.”

The short cab ride is in silence. Jack thinks of himself as a condemned man.

He is!

We enter the midtown office building, rather old and creepy. The 26th floor proves to be inactive. I am sure the location has been selected intentionally. Upon stepping into the reception area of Dr. Rebecca Helmstadt there hangs a sign... ‘all males disrobe upon entry’.

Yummy!

Jack either does not read the sign or cares not to respond. A cute, very young receptionist stands, addresses only me in requesting that we sign in... then giggles. She looks Jack straight in the eye and taps the sign, her face becoming more and more stern until Jack reacts.

“Jack, it’s your first visit and you’re disobedient.”

“I have a problem. You know that.”

“That is why we’re here... and they deal in such problems all the time. Take off your clothes.”

“Just hang everything there, on that coat rack,” the girl points. “Then we’ll want his hands on his head... like a good boy.”

Oh, I like this.

Jack strips, of course. How could he not? Superficially he is appalled but deep within he’s in his fantasy land. Then he sits and folds his hands atop his head. I cannot help looking at that emaciated male organ. Sure enough it beings to engorge, the embarrassment leading to tumescence which leads to more embarrassment and more tumescence.

Is the office timing deliberate? They let Jack stew just long enough so his tiny pecker stands straight up. It is only then that I am introduced for the first time to Nurse Benson. She steps into the reception area, clipboard in hand and announces with formality... ‘Jack Dumond’.

A sheepish and crimson Jack Dumond speaks not. I reply ‘here’.

“Come this way... hands on head.”

As we walk I note the nurse mandates Jack lead while she follows and gives commands, ‘turn to your left, then right, then enter the next door on your right’. She indoctrinates him, making him respond to simple verbal cues. And in entering an examination room such continue.

“Up on the table big boy. Lie down.”

It is then that Nurse Benson introduces herself and I offer my name as she peers at her clipboard.

“I have Dr. Helmstadt’s notes from your phone conversation. You don’t overstate the situation, Miss Montrove. We see a lot of organs and this one is indeed diminutive.”

For some reason I smile with inner pride with Nurse Benson’s equivalent assessment.

“The doctor will want him completely stiff for her evaluation.”

With that, Nurse Benson snaps on gloves and I am treated. The woman knows the male anatomy, and after many controlling handjobs dispensed in my college years, I watch a professional.

Left hand to Jack’s anus, two fingers thrust inward, lubricated right hand to the penis, she instantly renews whatever stiffness had waned during the brief walk.

“He’s circumcised high and tight. His mother probably requested it to forestall masturbation during the pubescent years, not knowing he’d be left with little to work with in his adult life.” 

Rock hard... but remaining tiny... Nurse Benson eases her ardent efforts... calming her hand to offer ‘maintenance’ strokes. Then she takes measurements... three and one half inches. 

Jack is aghast, lying naked and erect while his precious organ is measured and two women insouciantly converse. I will have to meet Jack’s mother and inquire. There is no doubt she influenced his subordinate psyche. Did it begin with a special request of the pediatrician? One extra twist of the Gomco clamp?

It is then that Dr. Helmstadt steps into the examination room, further heightening Jack’s discomfort. We briefly exchange greetings and the doctor begins, turning her attention to her naked and stiff patient.

“I see you’re enjoying your visit... Mr. Dumond,” pausing to look a Nurse Benson’s clipboard.

The doctor dons gloves and a physical exam ensues. She speaks as if Jack is not in the room... or unconscious... or a muted animal. Yes, she speaks to me.

“Not much to work with, I’m afraid. He’s somewhat virile, but the size inadequacy just leads to frustration... for all,” speaking as untoward attention is paid to the penis and scrotum.

“Underdeveloped testicles. We’ll test but we can assume a low testosterone level... and the limited sperm count that correlates. We see this often... frustration... the desire to please without an iota of ability to offer satiation. Is he orally proficient?”

“I don’t know doctor. He cooks and sews. Nicely neat. Likes to be of service.”  

“Hmmm. Well, Nurse Benson will extract a sperm sample. I am confident it will confirm my assessment. It’s best that with the size issue, tiny balls, the male mind needs... well... to be refocused. It’s good that you have come to see us. He’s otherwise facing a lifetime of disappointment... as will you.”

“I don’t need him for sex doctor. I... I...” my turn to blush. “I rather prefer deep vaginal penetration... when the appropriate occasion arises.”

This seems to offer concern to Jack. He does not realize that over the past month of weekend bondage encounters, I have been dating during the week. Dinner and a good fuck. A girl has to do what a girl has to do.

“And any coupling is under your auspices no doubt.”

I nod... indeed without doubt. I am on top, always.

“Yes, we understand. Nothing to do with love or affection... just an itch that needs to be scratched. We term it having a bullstud... and the likes of this little one can become a very docile cuckold. You did say he can cook and clean?”

“And sew,” I add, rather gushing in learning my needs are understood.

“You have the makings of a wonderful relationship... assuming he wants to cook, clean and sew.”

“Well, I tossed out his pornography. He can better focus now,” bringing the doctor and nurse to smile broadly.

“Perhaps. But a remnant of male drive will also bring reversion. For males, porn is like a narcotic. Getting the hunt out of the dog can be daunting, unless...” pausing in thought.

“Unless there are modifications. Supervised, placed under our care, your Jack can become a model cuckold. It’s almost 100% effective. And we can arrange for health insurance to cover the cost. You have health insurance?”

“I am the plan administrator.”

“Excellent. We’ll take a sperm sample now. But I suggest starting him tonight on cyproterone acetate. The effect is gradual, but you’ll see a degree of immediate change.”

My chemical engineer ward is no longer silent.

“That’s an anti androgen!”

The doctor smiles.

“Tsk, tsk. It’s better they not know. But yes, the chemical will bring life transforming changes.”

She turns to me, not wishing to spend another moment addressing Jack and his concerns.

“He’ll be calmer. His attention will focus as you desire... on pleasing you instead of himself. He will even begin to feel guilty about all the time and money spent on pornography.”

“What is this amazing drug?”

“In proper dosages it blocks the flow of androgens, which stimulates or controls the development and maintenance of male characteristics. Testosterone production, for example... not that there appears to be much... will for the most part cease. This will not only lower the sex drive but terminate what would otherwise be considered normal desire. Over time what is termed the secondary sex characteristics will also deplete.”

“Secondary?”

“His testicles and his penis, to be blunt.”

“Smaller?” 

The doctor looks at Nurse Benson and the duo smile. 

“Yes, if you can believe that. Plus the breasts... such will plump and the nipples will become puffy. He’ll have a new erogenous zone. It can be quite amusing to observe him discover such.”

“No,” Jack vehemently protests. “It’s chemical castration!”

I join in the smiles. What better fate for an inadequate chemical engineer... to fully understand the slow, irreversible transition and be helpless to prevent it.

“Jack! Such harsh words. We’re trying to help you. Pills or injection?” I inquire.

“Both. It’s best to begin with massive injections then follow with a daily pill to maintain the transformation. He’ll learn to like it. They all do in time... they have no choice but accept it really. And I do suggest you have him hone his oral skills. It will become his only form of sexual expression. Strangely, the need to please will grow... but such changes to a need to please others rather than oneself.” 

Reading things that set aghast

I am reminded of an old joke whenever someone fervently reports reading D/s stories that appall...

An elderly little ‘blue haired’ woman calls the police department and reports sighting naked men.

‘Ma’am, where are you located?’ the desk officer inquires.

‘Well, I am staying at the Davenport Hotel, room 355.’

‘Ma’am, that’s the YMCA locker room across the street from you. You’re looking into the shower room. I suggest you just close the blinds.’ 

The woman agrees, hangs up but then calls back thirty minutes later, again reporting naked men.

‘Ma’am, did you close your blinds?’ the desk officer inquires.

‘Yes, I closed the blinds. But if I stand on a chair on my toes I can peek over the top and they’re still running about naked.’

A Woman in Control - My good organizer VI

My good organizer VI

One hour, two? There is no point in keeping track. For Jack the world is standing still, his submission to my bondage seemingly without end. I watch a DVD then perform a thorough search of Jack’s apartment.

Ownership has its prerogatives.

As I suspect, a male thing becomes evident. There is pornography, the eidetic male mind stimulated by pictures. But the nature of the porn is telling. Female dominant, male submissive, ‘Men in Lace’ magazine seems to be on Jack’s favorite list.

Tsk, tsk.

Well, I begin to gather, piling it up on the bedroom floor. And of course I find an assemblage of DVD’s separate from the livingroom vanilla collection. I read the titles, shake my head, the fantasy sex world of males like Jack... such time wasted when he could be serving a firm woman.

Most of it I will destroy, but earmark some relevant photos which I will first scan into my hard drive.

I find a garbage bag, large and thick and in finishing, it is stuffed. I drag it to the front door to await my departure.

By now I am sure Jack is ripe... held motionless and in darkness for many hours. Hungry, I am without doubt that he is in need of bladder relief as well.

This should be quite the charming scene.

I find bowl in the kitchen. For Jack’s tiny appendage it must be shallow, his pecker not to reach over the brim of anything deep. I also find a jar of apple sauce. How appropriate, food for infants.

Grabbing a napkin, one issue of ‘Men in Lace’, bowl, spoon and apple sauce, I move to the spare bedroom, open the door and enter, leaving it ajar to allow enough light for me to see.

Jack stirs. Asleep? Delirious?

I step forth and cover his eyes with the folded napkin.

“Don’t move your head,” I instruct.

I turn on the overhead light. Jack will indeed need to find a dimmer bulb. I am kind tonight with the napkin, for eyes held in total darkness for many hours the light seems to blaze. 

“Been reviewing your collection, Jack. Your porn. Does Mother Dumond know you’re such a naughty boy?”

Lying bound and naked before a fully clothed woman, invoking his mother’s name, his mind addled with endless nothingness, the psychological effect is notable. He trembles. 

“‘Men in Lace’. Seems to make quite the impression.”

I momentarily slip aside the napkin and hold the open magazine before his face. A picture of a young male in a maid outfit. How apropos.

“Purchase an out fit like this for me, Jack. We’ll modify for my tastes in male servitude, put your skills as a seamstress to work.”

He finds courage! He speaks! Seems we’ll need to more time to break him. And that I shall have.

“You went through my stuff!”

“All of it. Piled it up and stuffed it in a garbage bag. From now on you’ll see what I want you to see. But more importantly you’ll live it, Jack. The dreamworld of the submissive male coming to reality. The thought must excite.”

It does. He again protests but he again hardens.

So cute! I reach and again diddle. His erection waggles for me. I like that. I also like him tugging so vigorously in frustration.

“Has this ever penetrated a vagina, Jack? It’s incredibly small. And with these tiny balls, do you even ejaculate? Your effluent must be quite limited.”

“That’s private!”

“Not any more. New paradigm, Jack. I’m going to know everything... and control everything.

“You know one of the duties G. Douglas has assigned me is administering the company health plan, the one in which you agree to have a mandatory annual check up. Well yours is due. And I found just the doctor and clinic for you. Her name is Rebecca Helmstadt... Dr. Rebecca Helmstadt. I am going to send you to her. And remember... it’s mandatory.”

It’s true, except for the part where I mandate the choice of doctor. That’s a stretch. But Jack already is attuned first to authorized bathroom visits, now bondage. He will attend an appointment with Dr. Helmstadt... for I plan to be there. 

“Now let’s empty that bladder, shall we? I’m sure your erection is abetted by the need to urinate.”

Yes. It is piss proud.