Serving the Queen IV

Look for another short snippet, 'Serving the Queen V', on Wednesday January 18.

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“I can see why you reached out to me, Richard,” the calm even voice veiling her surprise. “You’ve converted this room into a replica of my preparation room at the palace.”

Nurse Audrey Timmons pauses to surveil, holding firm the nostril leash. Walls and a floor of tiling, well drained. Plumbing fixtures. Cabinets stocked with... well... items Nurse Audrey no doubt used in caring for the Queen’s many subjugants... daily enemas, shaving, sponge bathing mandated. There are nylon cuffs. There is the low bench over which the well bound and naked subjugant knelt on all fours, head and neck low to the floor, hips and buttocks high, the high colonics slowly administered.

Richard has installed a treadmill similar to that on which nurse Audrey supervised daily exercise. Many miles, much exertion, the Queen insisting that the gluteus maximus muscles offer shape... roundness... inviting the splat and searing heat of rattan.  

Then the gaze goes to the left wall. Hanging is a length of gleaming stainless steel, hinged at the middle where a circular opening beckons the neck... similar smaller openings at the end for the wrists.

“And you even procured a Martin Rigid Stock. Very expensive, Richard. Do you restrain yourself or is it just for show... to titillate your mind... bring remembrances of your indenture at the palace.”

“I... I... cannot lock myself into it.”

“No, it requires the hands of a supervising woman. And at the palace it was never locked Richard. Simple pins were all that was required. There was no need for locks since the device renders the hands useless. How many years did you wear it?”

Audrey Timmons knows full well. The Queen procures her blond boys close to their eighteenth birthday and releases on their twenty first. Three years. But a most demanding and memorable three years. And with her question, forcing memories to burst from the hippocampus, Richard’s imagination percolates, brewing thoughts... that which she knows he relives with each visit to his curious ‘special place’.       

“Almost three years,” the voice quaking, Richard no doubt imagining himself again bearing the heavy length of steel over his shoulders.

The eyes scan further, lowering. Below the Rigid Stock is a humbler, a restraining device specifically designed for the male anatomy. Audrey smiles, stifling laughter. How many times did she bed her charges with an identical device? With it she assured immobility in placing the two conjoined strips of smooth wood at the back of the thighs, separating to enlarge the hole in the middle, capturing the testicles, then closing, forcing the male to either maintain the decubitus position, or suffer with constant tension on the scrotum.

“Whatever is a castrated boy like you going to do with that, Richard?” Audrey gushes, with a snort of mirth.  

“It’s... well... the sight of it has come to...”

“Bring comfort? Remind you of simpler times... when you had balls... and your only responsibility... only function... was to be obedient... and to present your nakedness as the Queen demanded. As much effort and money spent in finding me, you’ve also expended on this room. So this... this special place... brings you back to days halcyon. I can only imagine what my presence does for your fantasies, Richard... once again leashed by the woman who fed, bathed, assured punctual toilet and nurtured... tending to your welted buttocks.”

With that, nurse Audrey Timmons jostles the leash, a simple motion of her hand which she knows brings instant and inordinate pain compared to the slightness of her effort. She so many times utilized a similar message, communicating the thoroughness of her control to young males... muscular, well shaped, well exercised... and well bound.

Richard Lundquist gasps, the agony intense. Yet Audrey Timmons must ask herself. Is he happy?

The controlling hand draws downward, the slim nostril cord tightening to bring a slower, more moderate form of suffering. Richard knows to quickly respond.

“Why not kneel for me, Richard. You paid a lot of money for the Rigid Stock. Do you even know if it properly fits?”