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.
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