Saturday, June 13, 2015

Stroking the Male - Segment XII

March 2015

And so Randy’s awe and admiration of authoritative women advanced, visits to 225 Washington immersing him real time into what once secretly delighted in adolescent fantasy. Plus there came a profound dose of reality... pervert... former pervert... John W. Davis living out the ultimate in sadomasochistic reverie... or did he find himself forever submersed in dark, silent, immobile hell?

Randy will never know. But the memory lingers... titillates... such unbridled feminine governance. And so in his thoughts he silently answers sister Melanie’s quest, his penis further firming, his male essence exuding.

“Time for some bacon fat, Melanie,” Susan advises in her pleasant maternal tone.

Melanie steps to the special draw. There, at Mrs. Breckenridge’s suggestion, lies a jar of rendered bacon fat, the supply replenished with each Saturday morning breakfast. It is not salted, never to be used as a penile lubricant as with Mrs. Breckenridge. Instead, younger sister Melanie dips her right index and middle finger and gathers a dollop. She herself has come to enjoy an element of feminine control, and knows full well of Randy’s masturbation therapy... that for many months he was trained to ejaculate to both the feel and scent of bacon.

And so as Randy kneels, reproductive organs primed, the intensity of his humiliation spurring his masochistic predilection, Melanie reaches and smears his upper lip, priming his olfactory nerves as well. She smiles with the immediate results, Randy’s penis waggling in further need. Then she looks to sister Susan who nods in concurrence.

Melanie smiles inwardly. Mischievous fingers move to the right nipple. She coats with bacon grease and kneads, knowing that with a penis made permanently sore to the touch, the useless male nub has become heightened in sensitivity.

“Want to come for me?” Melanie’s young voice becoming precociously sultry, hot breath blowing in Randy’s ear as her enticing fingers work.

The engorged organ throbs then discharges... exploding untouched... Randy’s male effluent scoring a bull’s eye in his yellow dog bowl.

“So we’ll never know what he thinks about when he squirts for us like that?”

It’s bedtime. Gathering in Randy’s bedroom, Susan continues to teach Melanie the care suggested of their defacto houseboy Randy by therapist Mrs. Matilda Breckenridge.

“I don’t know the catalyst for his climax... don’t really care. But the therapy has worked wonders, Melanie. Not only are his bed sheets clean, he now washes all the laundry as well. And such obedience and deference to women... you and I can attend college and return to a spotless house and a well prepared meal.

“Bed!” Susan authoritatively pointing to what is really a low wooden platform, eyelets awaiting. A thin mattress covering offers some comfort, covered in a sheet which Susan knows will remain unstained. 

Randy, having donned the powder blue cuffs gifted by Mrs. Breckenridge, immediately lies. Susan then circles, one by one clipping to the eyelets the right wrist cuff, right ankle, left ankle and finally left wrist. When finished Randy and the low platform are one.

“Now, once again watch as I do this, Melanie. Some day this will be your task... his penis remains very tender... very sore to the touch. The bonds prevent him from rolling over and hurting himself.”

Susan grasps a catheter. She leans, the very tip of her left index gingerly slipping under the penis tip to carefully lift and align. As the tube greets the urethral opening, Randy grimaces, though the touch slight. It is with great heed and deliberation that he endures his nightly catheterization, Susan ever so slowly gliding inward the lubricated tube. She next connects the free end to a collection vessel. With a nod, Melanie steps forth with a cloth hood, slipping it over Randy’s head to bring darkness.

“May I have a collar... some day?” the voice male yet so meek.

“Perhaps for your birthday, Randy. Sleep well,” Susan leading from the room.  

“He’s so tightly bound... yet he never objects,” Melanie wistfully notes as Susan turns off the light and closes the door behind her.

“Would it matter if he did?” Susan notes with a knowing shrug.


The story continues in the second part of the trilogy 'Denying the Male" and the third part 'Emasculating the Male'.

Available at

Hope all have enjoyed the story.

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