The Sash - Naked Servitude Begins

Naked Servitude Begins

Copyright 2014

by Chris Bellows

The day begins with a serving girl wheeling a food laden cart into the stable. Markie knows not her name. Silence seems to be the unproclaimed rule, and every day she wordlessly scampers back to the ranch house, presumably to prepare the Prince’s breakfast. She takes no interest in the seven naked well bound human steeds. And in being restrained and hooded, they have no cognition of her brief presence. She does occasionally titter while peering at Markie’s missing jewels. For her, a neutered white boy amuses, offering more reminder of his alteration.

Smelling the gruel, Markie knows to arise to begin feeding. On this morning he has been slumbering with Thursday, ostensibly offering comfort to the relatively new arrival. Instead, throughout the night, Markie has felt the lad both tremble with the disgust of homophobia... and lurch as an unruly penis fights the tight cock cage... the feel of Markie’s warm hairless flesh spurring tumescence despite the disdain for male on male coupling.

Markie’s own maleness, the remnants thereof, has surrendered. It feels oddly good to sleep with a human beast he controls. And despite Thursday’s physical revulsion, Markie knows the lad remains traumatized from the Prince’s recent modifications, and deep within is somewhat comforted as Markie freely frottages against his well bound nakedness.

Yes, there is consolation offered... but it distresses.

Thursday’s teeth have been filed to obviate both biting and the ability to deny his Master oral entry for a deep face fucking. Grommets have been embedded in the flesh about the pubes at the twelve o’clock, four and eight o’clock positions. Such deep punctures are healing, but the large ring of steel threaded through the openings and the attached well spiked cock cage require acclimatization... as does the Prince’s Wand deeply inserted into the urethra.      

Markie rolls to a kneeling position then lowers his face to the encased male tidbits. A well trained tongue thrusts forth and begins laving the pink scrotum, well presented by the ring about the pubes. He giggles in feeling Thursday stir, the warm wetness both welcomed and abhorred as more priapism is kindled.

“Your day to be run, Thursday,” Markie withdrawing to watch as the penis swells and fights its punishing cage.

“Please, Ma’am, no more,” a muffled voice entreats from beneath the hood. “And please... I need to go.”

The Prince’s Wand is capped, precluding urination. And just as the Prince prognosticated, Markie has learned to use the tormenting device to abet his authority.
  
“Well, it is good of you to politely ask. But you know what I like first.”

“Please don’t make me do that!”

“I thought you would want to please me. I take such good care of you,” Markie cynically proclaims in sliding away Thursday’s hood.

The boy blinks, his eyes adjusting to the morning light. Markie looks into the handsome young face, looks barely diminished by the stainless steel nose ring inserted well into the nostrils and piercing the cartilage of the septum.

“Come just a few licks for me. I’ve been good to your balls.”

“You have none,” Thursday contemptuously reminds, emotionally not able to fully accept Markie despite the girly boy’s transformation.

“Then think of it as my labia. Be a good boy,” the words offered as a kneeling Markie straddles the head, lowering to present his empty scrotal sac.

Yes, Markie has come to learn that there is evanescent joy in being orally served there. Plus he distantly joins the Prince in his penchant... sensing the horripilation of the virile male in being forced to capitulate to... a man? Thursday’s perception of Markie’s gender is understandably blurred.

A slim finger loops through the nose ring, jostles then levers to align tongue and lips with the withered sac. With the slightest tension there bringing instantaneous pain, a reluctant Thursday begins to indeed lick. Complete capitulation follows, engulfing the mass of flesh to bring a squeal of pleasure from Markie.

“Good boy. You see how easy that is? Understand how much delight it brings me? You should not deny me... you will not deny me. We need to take care of each other, Thursday,” Markie finally arising to procure a urination bowl.

“And keep in mind, since I have no balls, I’ll just have my fun controlling yours,” Markie suggests in returning to Thursdays’ pubes.

In demonstration, the fingers of the left hand playfully squeeze a meaty right gonad then move to the left. The fingers of the right remove the cap of the Prince’s Wand. Despite the discomfort an immediate flow begins.

“Feel better? See what Markie can do for you? And next shaving day, I’m going to have you get hard for me. You’d like that wouldn’t you Thursday, showing off for me? A nice erection for me.”

Thursday nods, his excretions tapering. It is a hesitant nod, for he knows fully well that the moments of freedom from the cruel cock cage will not culminate... well never culminate... with ejaculation. No instead, Markie will ice him down, insert the Prince’s Wand and return the cock cage to a neglected penis, ultimate satiation denied.