Saturday, November 5, 2016
A Trained Penis IV
This will be the last post from this story. Not sure what is next.
The entire story is available from Lulu, as noted in the October 17 post.
“Naughty boy, Jack. I can smell your misdeed just stepping through the front door. You really need to develop self control... discipline.”
Yes, I am chagrined, feeling like a puppy in need of being house broken.
“Where did you go? I hope not on the carpet,” Molly turning on the lights.
“Ah, in the bowl,” nodding to the odorous fruit.
“At least that can be easily cleaned.”
I gawk at Molly, dressed simply but glamorously. In full make up she appears to be returning from a photo shoot, modeling some chic attire. Slim, her firm rounded breasts appear to be chiseled by a master sculptor. I have indeed reloaded as promised, my hormones surging, my penis twitching, standing naked and bound before this goddess.
“I’ll wash it in the bathtub,” once again turning and presenting my cuffed wrists for release.
“Not a problem. I’ve certainly tended to enough bed pans.”
Some ten years into her nursing career, Molly is not put off by such foul excretions. She ignores my gesture, carefully picks up the bowl and moves to the bathroom. I gawk anew, now lustfully assessing buttocks which distract, perfectly outlined by sheer red satin.
It becomes apparent I will remain in bondage. Still I know not to beg. Molly is amused by such meekness in men and I have learned that beseeching words only serve to embolden and inspire.
“How was dinner?” trying not to sound timorous in my concerns over being so long cuffed and shackled.
“Expensive. We had a rare Pinot Noir and some 30 year old port with dessert. Oscar’s has a good wine list,” Molly calls out from the bathroom as I hear water running in the tub.
Molly returns. I again twist about, hinting for release. She smiles... a devilish smile.
“No Jack. Naughty boys get punished. You’ll stay in bondage... though it seems you enjoy,” nodding to my shorn pubes.
Yes, it seems the ruined orgasm did not completely deplete me of burgeoning semen as returning is the male desire to rid oneself with an ecstatic eruption. With Molly noting my firming condition, such begins the loop. Ravishing, fully clothed, in exercising her authority this thing of mine is triggered, leading to arousal with my nakedness forcibly put on display. And in becoming erect for her, the resulting humiliation leads to more firmness. Molly folds her arms and watches in silence. Chained to the radiator I can do no more than watch as well. Within moments I am fully erect, penis tip searching for the ceiling.
“A tummy thumper, Jack. Very impressive.”
Yes, the purple tip brushes at my navel and I can’t help thinking to perhaps request more sun tan lotion. Molly has such delightful training in massage, part of her nursing education concerning care for long term bed ridden patients. I do believe she can feel what I am sensing, as evidenced by the afternoon’s ruined orgasm.
Ah, that impish smile as her right hand lowers, index finger extending. Such vulnerability, I must stand and endure, the finger pressing the top of my turgid phallus and slowly pushing downward. I grimace and her smile broadens. Low, low, lower, air rushes from my lungs with the slow torment, penis tip angled to my feet. In a ludicrous pose, I arch my back in attempting to diminish the anguish.
“What’s the matter Jack? Your little thing seemed to enjoy my attention this afternoon.”
Molly knows there’s no damage, just suffering. Drat her medical training.
“Please Molly,” instantly regretting the utterance in knowing that pleading brings more resolve.
Finally, in a demonstration of feminine omnipotence, she withdraws, quickly curling her finger. Indeed my aching erection snaps upwards to thump my lower belly.
“It would be shameful to waste it,” I coyly hint, libido completely restored.
“Just because you’ve reloaded doesn’t mean you’re going to shoot again. I’ve been doing some reading Jack. You take advantage of my affection for you, playing these games... having me lead you about naked and bound. Should we take it another step?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“You’ve scheduled us here for the weekend. I assume I’m going to walk you about tomorrow as well. Give you a little more thrill. What about after that?”
“Back to the city. You work, I write.”
“Any reason you can’t write here? When does George next visit?”
“George is overseas for a few months. Construction project in Dubai.”
“So what’s the rush? He won’t mind you staying. You can write any where.”
“But what about your job?”
“I’ll work. And visit. You brought your webcam?”
“Then that’s it. You’ll be staying.”
“I... I... what if I don’t want to... not much to do here.”
“You’ll be kept busy. And you don’t have a choice, Jack. Remember your clothing is locked up... and I again hid the car keys. Long walk back to New York naked and in shackles.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I can and I will. Remember, it is you with the affinity for authoritative women. So I decide, not you. I’ll make some arrangements. You said my New York apartment was too confining... and yours is no larger. Here you can live your fantasy... your sick fantasy.”
The hand extends again, this time to gently palm my freshly shaven scrotal sac. Warm, firm and assertive, it feels good... controlling but good. It distracts, and I realize I should ask for details... living my fantasy... but I don’t.
“I’ll get some things in town tomorrow.”