New short story, 'A Curious Arrangement'

I have published a new short story, 'A Curious Arrangement' (not be confused with 'The Arrangement').

Female Dominant, bondage, chastity, humiliation. 13,000 + words. $ 4.00.

http://www.lulu.com/content/e-book/a-curious-arrangement/19457818

 

The Arrangement II

“Well, back again so soon.”

The familiar voice of Ms. Juliette grasps his attention. She enters the training room. Professionally attired, her authoritative demeanor detracts from her otherwise radiant appearance, jet black hair, dark eyes, make up modest but precise. Her comportment is that of a businesswoman, certainly not a woman who earns her living shaping men of low self esteem.    

Chris Bellows humbly falls to his knees hoping that any conversation will be accompanied by the turn of the key in the formidable lock of the chastity belt. Fortunately, Ms. Juliette is as eager to free his penis as he is. She graciously stoops, key in hand. The lock springs open.

“The belt is working nicely Chris. Your hormones must be overflowing.”

She playfully caresses his right nipple as Nurse Ingrid removes the belt. The imposing nurse momentarily disappears. The well designed device will be cleansed, a procedure as simple as placing it in a dishwasher.

For the first time in seven days, Chris Bellows’ genitals are free. As Ms. Juliette watches his penis rise in salute, she smiles. Its firmness is for her and only for her. But for her key wielding hand, it would continue to be entrapped under steel. For her the psychological dominance is not only pleasing... it’s arousing.

So after ten weeks of complete chastity Chris Bellows’ organ is again free to show off... and it does. Rising to full erection before the two fully clothed women in a futile demonstration of male hubris, both nurse and Ms. Juliette smile. The organ stands for their amusement not his. And both chuckle as Chris’s right hand spasmodically tugs against its bond. It so much wants to stroke the tantalizingly hard shaft. The women find enjoyment in the feeble effort.

“Bad boy Chris. You wanted to be controlled and controlled you are.

“How is your writing? I wager it’s as deliciously kinky as always.”

Chris nods. In fact, it is. With his hormones surging the words cascade from the word processor. With his male machismo engaging in a raging battle with his need for submission... for the first time in his life the testosterone is losing. Ten weeks... not only deprived of the ability to ejaculate but also of the capacity to merely stroke his neglected penis.

So often he feels the urge, his manhood knocking on the steel barrier of his belt. And so often the only possible response is to concentrate, write, and fantasize about the upcoming weekly visit to Ms. Juliette’s lair. And now he is here and his male appendage shows its appreciation.

“We’ll talk later, Chris. Be a good boy for Nurse Ingrid now.”

The smiling dominatrix, a master at extracting psychological submission, bends and diddles the exposed underside of Chris Bellows’ standing phallus. It wriggles as if to thank the woman who has so graciously set it free. She chortles at the reaction.

‘Will she not just stroke it for me?’ Chris thinks to himself.

As she turns to step out, Nurse Ingrid establishes herself.

“On the table please, Mr. Bellows. We have work to do.”  

Chris stands and feels the assuring comfort of his heavy scrotal sac swing between his thighs. At least it’s still there, he thinks with some satisfaction... though useless except for the amusement of Ms. Juliette.

The weighty stock makes all movement laborious. He carefully steps onto a small stool resting next to the shining metal table then places one calve and then the other on the smooth surface. He knows to kneel with his knees well parted. Nurse Ingrid insists on complete access to every inch of his flesh and every aperture. Resistance during his first visit resulted in convincing twists and pinches of his gonads. He learned to obey and extinguish all thoughts of resistance.
  
The tall and powerful nurse begins the day. For the next thirty minutes his entire body will be examined, shaven and cleansed. Nothing will escape her inquisitive hands and fingers and Chris has written enough D/s erotica to understand it is the ultimate in mental submission. Kneeling naked under bright lights and forced to display everything. To have all his anatomy offered to the knowing eyes and fingers. Just having to widely part his lips while Nurse Ingrid rummaged about within his mouth and throat could take a toll. The arrangement necessitated such payment and coinage came in the form of complete subservience.

He recalls his first visit where, after the huge nurse was through with him, he sat and was ‘counseled’ by Ms. Juliette. Chris was notably disquieted by the experience and even after ten weeks he finds the nurse’s brusque treatment of his uncovered body difficult to mentally accept. He had to pose the question. Ms. Juliette answered.

“Where did I find Nurse Ingrid? Why I simply ran an ad in the Nursing Journal, Chris. She’s actually quite an experienced nurse who finds her regular weekly job rather boring. The notion of having part time employment on Saturday afternoons was attractive only because the ad specified the need for a stern woman who would be furnished with unfettered access to a special male patient in providing unusual treatment.

“Yes, don’t look surprised. Though unfortunately suppressed by various standards of deportment, most nurses have latent desires to control... to be completely in charge. To entice them, one just has to use the right code words in the ad. The ethics of the profession are rather strict about the special care aspect. Except for here, of course, where there is no need for concern,” the words coming with a laugh.


“And I think I chose wisely... wouldn’t you agree?”

Chris had to admit the nurse made good use of her ‘unfettered access’. She had shaved is entire body with a straight razor. From the neck down all hair was removed. It proved to be a frightening experience... but not a nick resulted... not even around the nooks and crannies of his testicles, perineum and anus. And she repeats the removal every week.

So once again he kneels as the nurse’s soapy hands knead and caress his genitals. It feels
so good after seven days of entrapment. Yet, she is so careful not to cause ejaculation, keeping the trained fingers of her left hand on the tactile area between his rectum and his scrotal sac. She knows it to be a barometer of his level of arousal. When the nurse feels him quavering there, she immediately withdraws, admonishing him to control his neglected maleness.

He must obey. And he does.

“You’re becoming nicely toned, Mr. Bellows,” the nurse having massaged and felt every limb and muscle.

“Amazing what a little change in diet and some exercise can do.”

The nurse is correct. No stimulants. No alcohol. No red meat. Mountains of fruit and vegetables. But to what end? To keep his publisher happy? So he can better entertain Ms. Juliette? To satisfy some quest... that she has the power to mold the male body... to have a subjugated male amuse her for longer and longer periods with an erection that will not subside?

Gloved fingers probe his anus. He feels abundant lubricant and hears a soft laugh as one digit and then a second penetrate. The nurse is all too familiar with the male anatomy.

“Your prostate is swollen. We’ll take care of that on our next visit.”

The fingers withdraw but in their place is inserted a rubber plug. He has come to expect it. There is no probe or procedure to which he can object. His body is open, exposed and vulnerable to all the nurse wishes to impose. There are no limits.

With a hiss of air the diabolical implement expands, completely filling his backside. His penis waggles in response and, though there is minor discomfort, he knows he cannot expel the expanse of rubber. It will stay until the nurse releases the air and with mocked ceremony slides it out. It greatly adds to the humiliation of his ordeal, forcing his manhood to achieve previously unattainable levels of rigidness.  

The Arrangement I

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

'The Peg Board' in German

A friend and reader has taken the time to translate this short story into German. Now available from Lulu. $2.10.

http://www.lulu.com/content/e-book/der-pflockbalkenreiter---the-peg-board-story-in-german/19388756

The Musings of Chris Bellows now on Facebook.

With the blogging craze seeming to wane (I've been encountering more and more blogs that are either inactive or been taken down), I have ventured into Facebook.

Though not necessarily the medium for posting narrative, I have launched a page under the name Chris Bellows, a business. Postings here on the blog will be replicated there (I hope).

Please be tolerant of any clunkiness until I acclimate to the medium. 

Probation VIII

This concludes posting of the 'Probation' segments.

As a reminder the entire story is available at...

http://www.lulu.com/content/e-book/probation/19234364

Next week, 'The Arrangement'. A short story to be fully posted on the blog.

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Footsteps! At last.

It must be Miss Abby. Yet whomever descends remains silent. There comes a dreaded thought ... the house is unlocked, as instructed, and throughout day workers entered and left. Have they returned? Peter’s sense of relief is incomplete. Who is it?

The footsteps thud the concrete floor then tap on the tiling which surrounds his kneeling form. More shame comes. He smells and he knows the entire basement reeks of his bodily wastes. Glad to be hooded, his hang dog look is best cloaked.

He feels motion about his Posey cuffs and gripping hands, then hears one click then another. As suspected, he can be easily bound, the steel poles rife with eyelets. The footsteps move away. Dare he speak?

There comes a rustling sound. A paper bag emptied. Then finally a voice.

“Obediently waiting for me... but you’ve soiled your diaper.”

Peter’s heart leaps with joy. It is Miss Abby.

“I’m sorry Miss Abby. I tried... tried so hard.”

“This is why you need me... need to learn discipline. You smell disgusting.”

“Yes Miss Abby, I’m sorry.”

“You’re fortunate. I know how to take care of boys... bad boys who can’t control their various urges.”

With the words Peter feels hands at the small of his back. He hears another click, this one bringing freedom rather than bondage. The tightness of his canvass diaper eases, the lock opened. Another leap of the heart.

“I had my brother in diapers for years... up until he went to college. The power exchange thrilled. At a time in life when the male hormones surge, his penis was under lock and key... unless I wanted it on display. I think that is best for you too Peter.”

The strap is lowered, the waist band loosened. Peter feels and hears the clinging garment fall to the tiling. With it comes the stronger smell of his urine soaked feces... his sense of shame grows.

“Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy little boy. And there’s a rule when you’re bathed... knees parted as far as possible. Always.”

“Yes, Miss Abby,” Peter immediately complying.

The footsteps move away. Peter hears running water, then the hiss of a spray.

“You’ll feel more open... more vulnerable posing for me like that. It’s important for boys like you to feel that way. Now I’ll give you a quick rinse first. Think we’ll both be better off.”

The footsteps return. The filthy cloth inner liner is pulled away. Though the odor grows stronger the sense of relief overwhelms.

“Thank you Miss Abby, thank you.”

The words of gratitude can barely be heard as a dousing spray of water, warmed perfectly, gently begins the long awaited cleansing. It is divine, Peter’s hooded head lowering with the odd revelry. There can be no doubt the woman long cared for someone so harshly encapsulated. Her actions bring incredible joy to flesh long subjected to irritation. When the spray tenderly laps at his genitals, Peter senses the twinges of male celebration. It’s embarrassing, but it feels so good.

“There’s special needed attention before I soap you, Peter. Little boys don’t have hair... so I stopped at the drug store. Afraid there’s going to be more bad smell for a while.”

Peter hears snaps of rubber. Then indeed comes a powerful chemical smell as gloved hands palpate to smooth a thick lotion over his entire body.

“Depilating cream. We’ll lather you up once a week for while. In time the follicles will surrender. And bad little boys have their little balls coated as well... so be good for me.”   

Deed completed, next come more pleasant sensations as Peter feels soft wetness about his pubes.

“Used to shave my brother regularly. In addition to keeping him in diapers, I’d let him have some fun... every Saturday. Mother worked retail, long afternoons and evenings in the store. So it was then brother Bobbie was allowed to show off for me. Kept totally chaste, only out of his diaper for his bath, when I cuffed him I’d let had him run about the house naked. His penis would stand nicely for me. In reward I put him in make up. Such a girly boy was he... very pretty. And in being shaved down here, silk panties felt especially good to him.”

A razor whisks about as Miss Abby speaks. Again, with the speed and tenderness, Peter realizes the woman has many times before offered intimate care, the ultra sensitive scrotal flesh unscathed by the threateningly sharp razor.

The words and actions bring conflicting thoughts. The woman is reliving times considered to be enjoyable... the tenderhearted care of a psychotic younger brother. Peter oddly benefits, in no way endangered, instead being attentively cared for. But what of her psychosis? What is expected of him? What is the ultimate goal of this governing woman?

“Yes, Bobbie developed DPD... dependent personality disorder. Over the years, couldn’t make a decision... couldn’t do a thing without the assistance or concurrence of his big sister... that included eating and bathing. And going to the bathroom? He’d just piss and crap in his diaper... the big baby.”   

“What happened to him?”

“Eventually I had to work. In graduating college there was no time to bathe, powder and put him back in diapers. So I found a nice gay couple for him to serve. He’s homophobic, so there’s just enough sexual tension to keep him on edge. He’s been trained to serve as housemaid.... in full make up, pedicure, prancing about in heels. And most fascinating, he now prefers to stay in his diapers... ostensibly getting very flustered in being stripped naked and changed by one man while another watches. But deep within, I know he senses a thrill. It’s in his psychological make up.”

Peter feels his penis firming. Why? The actions of her hands? Her words? Though casual and aloof, such describe a shocking fate. Miss Abby also notes his engorging manhood.

“You’re becoming erect for me, Peter. Why is that?”

“I... I... I don’t know,” the priapic reaction adding to the embarrassment.

“I believe I know why. You enjoy a woman’s maternal care. As I said, Peter, we have complementing penchants.”

Peter is left in silent thought as Miss Abby moves to retrieve the spray hose. More relief, more sense of tranquil calm comes as Peter’s entire form is rinsed, the depilation lotion and much body hair flowing to the drain.

“When did you last masturbate? I know sex is out. Little perverts like you have difficulty with girls... need to get drunk just to talk to them.”

“I can’t remember precisely.”

“Too bad... it was your last orgasm... and you can’t even remember. I kept my brother chaste for years. He’d put on the nicest stands for me... like his penis was trying to touch the ceiling, ha, ha, ha.”

Abby positions a low stool. For some reason Peter is heartened when the rubber gloves are removed and his entire body senses the softness of soapy hands and a soft cloth.

“My adult baby boy. You have nice skin Peter.”

“Thank you Miss Abby.”

Probation VII

 
Wet... abundant moisture bringing prickliness in having peed in his diaper a third time... hungry, house devoid of sustenance... the market closes. Peter sends some emails, hoping no client desires to meet. He has yet to give thought as to how he avoids that.

Then comes the reminder shock, the collar zinging. He must retreat to the basement, await the unknown arrival of probation Officer Abby Bates.

From the small bedroom window he carefully checks the street. No pedestrians, no dog walkers, he dashes for the stairs. In stepping through the basement door, there comes relief, certain no one has seen his collared near nakedness. More steps, down to the basement, needing to cuff and hood himself, he has a moment to inspect. The workers have had a busy morning. Two vertical steel poles have been installed, floor to ceiling. There is floor tiling beneath and much plumbing work... a floor drain.

Water pipes now extend from the laundry room ending with faucets.  And then the eyes focus on a curious piece of furniture... a chair... straight backed... restraints for the ankles at the front legs. A folded up tray looms over the back. Peter blinks his eyes. It is essentially a high chair but enormous when compared to that used for toddlers. 

No time for more inspection, he fears an early arrival, punishment for not being properly positioned. Cuffs in place, velcro straps folded, he slips the hood over his head, kneels between the new poles and feels about, grasping the steel as instructed. His grip encounters eyelets, spaced every six inches, cuffs undoubtedly to be secured.

He waits in darkness, sensing the irritating acid of his own excretions. Time passes, unknown. He waits, he waits, he waits and then the unthinkable happens. There comes grumbling... below. The day has passed without emptying himself there, normally a morning function.

‘No’, he curses, ‘don’t do this to yourself’. He fights, clenching his gluteus maximum muscles in defiance of nature’s call. Where is Miss Abby? He so much needs her, needs to be unlocked. The stench of urine is foul enough.

The battle continues... but in time is lost. Odorous sludge joins the watery excretions of his diaper... thick, warm, oozing slowly. He closes his eyes in shame, realizing the basement reeks... and such will greet his Parole Officer... she in charge. Are there tears? The cloth hood absorbs. He is grateful.

Ideas

I most times begin my day scanning new profiles on Collarspace (formerly Collarme) and new postings on Craig’s List (using specific terms to search the myriad of listings).

Whereas many, if not most, are fakes and scams, one must remember I write fiction. So if the many profiles and listings are indeed fictional such serves to warm the cockles of my fervent fingers, turning to grist for the writing mill.

Recently came across this Craig’s List gem. It’s been posted before in the New York area.  Real? I sent a complimentary note in reply... nothing received back as of this posting.

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Dominant Couple Seeking Sissy Maid

READ THIS TO THE END Sir and Miss will know...

We are looking for a good sissy maid. We are an experienced Dominant couple with many years of training sissies. We play with both sexes and need a good sissy maid to help us around the house and the dungeon. You would be required to wear a sissy maid uniform when cleaning and attending to our guests. You will have to be comfortable dressed as a girl in front of men, women and other sissies.

Must be available at least once a week depending on what is going on. It might just be you and us the first time we meet. Other times, we have small get together's with TOPS and bottoms. Your job as a SISSY MAID is to serve us as well as our guests drinks and light cleaning.

We are a couple, we are both business professionals. We enjoy turning men into SISSY MAIDS. If you have been a Sissy / SISSY MAID before or this is your first time. We will work with you. Experience is good but not necessary.

Depending on what is going on the day you come

You will come in to our home as a male. Upon entering, your transformation and SISSY MAID training will begin. You will be forced and Feminized into SISSY MAID Service. In our presence you will be a girl to us. We will verbally humiliate you and at the same time encourage you to be a girl. Some light bondage and discipline if you are into it.

We will help you accept that you are a girl. That you were meant to be a girl. (SISSY MAID)

You will be Our Sissy Maid Slut Girl. We will have you pose and prance around in your panties and maid uniform.

You Will Be collared and put into Chastity while you are in our presence only.

You will wear a butt plug during your SISSY MAID training. As part of your continuing training the butt plugs will increase in size.

You will be DISCIPLINED to remind you that you are a girl and be rewarded for being a proper SISSY MAID.

We love to role-play and have a wild imagination.

Your wife or girlfriend sent you to us for Full Girl Transformation and SISSY MAID TRAINING.

You are ordered to report To US for Gender Reassignment and SISSY MAID TRAINING.

You were sold to us as property.

We are very open minded.

When leaving our home you will go back to being a man.

We are not looking for SEX and nor should you be.

Must be CLEAN. In shape, Weigh less then 200 pounds. No body odor.

Must have clean shaven face.

Must be 18 to 35 and in good shape.

When answering our Ad. Leave name, age and if any experience. We don't respond to one sentence notes.

Keep in mind that we are looking for regular service from our Sissy Maids. After serving us a few times. We also recommend you to other Dominant couples and Dominant women that are also looking for Sissy Maid service.

WE ARE NOT looking for sex, money or a one time session. If you are married or in a relationship that you want to keep this a secret form THIS WILL NOT WORK........ If you are not able to commit for regular service. THIS IS NOT FOR YOU.........

NOW, BE A GOOD GIRL...........YOU KNOW YOU WERE MEANT TO BE A GIRL...........

This is the real thing. We are the real thing and really enjoy doing this.

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Possibly fake. But the authors write with such zeal for the subject matter. And the listing is accompanied by many prurient drawings and cartoons of sissy maids in servitude.

In reading this listing, I do believe I could concoct a short story of 4,000 to 5,000 words, describing the initial visit of the protagonist sissy maid and the domineering couple who so energetically accommodate his/her needs.

Such wonderful fuel...