Saturday, June 28, 2014

A Woman in Control - Married to my good organizer IV

Married to my good organizer IV

Sunday morning brunch. I release Jack. He remains naked and without his cock cage. A treat, except that I insist he help serve our guests brunch. There come more protests, more beseeching, and in the end he somberly saunters downstairs where the many wedding guests are milling about, having coffee, awaiting the renowned breakfast of the B & B.

Yes, he’s in his element, naked servitude, and he blushes divinely. The male guests choose to ignore Jack’s limited organs. But the women, brash and bold, take to examining closely. What should be arousing palpation of a penis long locked and neglected, becomes a source of intense humiliation, the girls talking openly about the lack of size and its dysfunction.

“It’s a clitoris,” notes one of my domineering lesbian classmates, bringing great laughter and a Jack quivering with embarrassment.

Another woman is fascinated by the emaciated ball sac. She cannot keep her fingers off it, rubbing and kneading briskly, finally announcing for all... “I found one... I think.”. Ah, the laughter.

Well all things come to an end. By 1:00 p.m. the crowd disperses, all heading back to the city. The gay preacher asks if Jack has been trained to suck cock... phrasing his inquiry much more tactfully of course. I note Jack’s reaction of muted concern and smile.

“Not yet,” knowing to always hold a sword over his head.

Randy offers a very affectionate good bye kiss, more than that of friendly acquaintance, then pats Jack on the head and departs. Nurse Benson takes Jack back to the room and inserts the Prince Wand and locks in place his cock cage... freedom ended. Meanwhile I pack then take Jack by the hand.

“I need to get dressed.”

“You have nothing to wear,” leading him out the door.

To the parking lot barefoot and naked, fortunately for Jack the grounds are secluded. From the trunk I retrieve one of our wedding presents... a modified child’s car seat, enlarged for a very substantial child... Jack... replete with Posey cuffs which will make him one with the seat.

I place it in the back seat and strap him in for the ride to Manhattan. Unseen in the front seat, a folded blanket I can toss over him should we encounter difficulty or need to stop for gas.

The same blanket will be used to get him from the apartment garage and up the elevator, if I deem it to be needed. I do not explain that. I let him broil in the worry of more public exposure.

In returning to his apartment, I have waiting bank forms for Mr. and Mrs. Desiree Dumond Montrove. A joint bank account is opened. I have him sign the papers, cloaking not only the account number but the name of the bank. Henceforth I will arrange for his paycheck, currently larger than mine, to be directly deposited to an account under my control. Though Jack has technical signature authority, he won’t even find the blank checks much less know which bank and what number.

Financial control. It does not feel as good as physical, emotional, psychological control, but it completes my mastery. 
He has not a dime to spend...

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