'Chained', Segment IV

Josephine Collier enters the many measurements into the website... a German engineering firm catering to the kink community. Not only are the circumferences of wrists, ankles and neck required, but the diameter of the outer most portions of the hands, feet, head and base of his scrotum. 

To be ordered will be bands of tungsten steel, anodized with decorous reflective material. The engineering such that the metal will be industrial in strength yet decorous in appearance.

Miss Josie’s slave girl will be both pretty and readily bound.

With the order, requiring weeks for fabrication, will come a special tool, well designed, more or less a giant set of pliers or vice grips which, with effort, will crimp closed the open loops when slipped over the hands, feet and neck. There will be no tool to reverse the process, opening the hardened steel for removal.

That notion brings wetness. The permanency of the bondage excites. Other than utilizing an acetylene torch, when pinched closed and bolted, thin and also decorative, the bands of one half inch in thickness are not to be removed. 

Jamie is never to deny his... soon to be her... station in life.

Entering credit card information and a box number at a post office miles down the state road, Josie next goes to the waist line measurement. She becomes giddy in her thoughts of corsetting her girl. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, ladies sought the ideal of an eighteen inch waist. Such brought constant discomfort... even suffering... along with permanently shifting about some internal organs in order to achieve.

All to attain male attraction. Such savagery.

Well Jamie... to become Jami... will not have an eighteen inch corset. But with his current waist line of twenty four inches, forcing him/her to a twenty inch diameter will be achievable... painful yes... but achievable.

The garment is ordered. And such will bring attraction... to her owner.

Every desperate breath will garner thoughts of Jamie’s position... her servitude.    

Items of bondage and indenture ordered, Josie rises from her computer, best to check on her girl.

To the spare bedroom, she has left the shackles in place for the night. Jamie needs to acclimate. And he needs to understand control.... feminine control. Thus in bedding him Josie has decided that a degree of sleep deprivation will soften his mind... make her charge more malleable to her protocols.     

She quietly opens the door of the dim bedroom and peers within. Jamie sits upright on a comfortable mattress, wrists and ankles remaining fettered. But the addition of a thick foam lined prosthetic collar secured by tight cords to the posters right and left assures that he will neither lie down nor even lean to one side or the other.

Awkward, but one can slumber in such a position... eventually. 

“Having trouble sleeping, Sweetheart?” Josie inquires in a matronly tone, noting the eyes are open.

“Can I please lie down?”

“And how are you to address me?”

“Please lie down, Ma’am?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want you to lie down.”

Jamie will need to understand feminine caprice. He will do things and be positioned at his captor’s whim. She is not to explain... need not explain anything.

Josie steps forth to the side of the bed, Hands reach to the shackled wrists, grasping and testing to assure such are well secured and, most importantly, the limited length of the chain leading to the waist chain is such that Jamie cannot touch his penis. There will be no masturbation... no unsupervised masturbation.

“Do you want to fondle yourself?” the blunt question bringing Jamie to blush.

Words come not with the embarrassing question. Jamie struggles to shake his head.

“You became quite erect when I showered you.”

“You... you... you know... you touched me...”

“Yes, you need to be washed everywhere. Being uncircumcised, smegma can be unhygienic.”

Josie smiles inwardly. Cuffed wrists temporarily released from the waist chain, she bound Jamie’s arms high to a bar in the large stall shower, hosed him down then swabbed every inch of his nakedness, both cleansing and getting to better know her boy... soon to be girl. Every inch of his young flesh.    

Then came the razor. A facile task after many years of nursing, preparing patients for intricate surgery, all hair to be removed. The limited growth on his slender legs brought amusement.

“We’ll spend more time with hair removal, Jamie. Tonight was quick... to get you to bed.”

Yes quick, but also giving rise to both inspection and establishing that his body is no longer his.

“You don’t have to do that, Ma’am.”

“Hair is unsightly on a girl... and can be unsanitary. Now go to sleep. If you’re a good girl, in a couple days you can sleep lying down,” a hand reaching to the golden locks to tenderly tousle.