'Prominence - Part Three'

Not to preempt the story line, this will be the only segment from Part III.

Completed manuscript to be published by early January 2025

Merry Christmas

Part Three - Servitude at Benchmark Oil

Operant Conditioning

Body completely healed, Robert Probert is amazed looking at himself in the floor to ceiling mirrors of the prison bedroom of his Masters. Intended to further erode his male psyche... finely made up, hair coifed by the Queen’s castrated servant Bozuma... his feminized reflection serves well the intention. And he finds there is not a hint... not a trace... of the cruel whipping of Master Sodoma.

She is masterful, Robert reminds himself, her whip hand that of a surgeon... inflicting such intense pain... without damage. Yes, after the morning routine, seated upright in bondage, psychologist Satana schedules quiet time for thought, Robert to mull over the who and what of his being, marveling at the effectiveness of his governance.

He is a woman, his mind repeats. Yet there is such contrast, the priapism continuing, the swollen tip of his erection jutting forth beneath a smooth, hairless and well made up face... lipstick, plucked eyebrows, mascara, eyeliner. It is bizarre... yet the conditioning brings acceptance.

And there is more. His masters have found growing delight in watching him reward Bozuma, paying oral homage... fellatio, empty scrotum laved, analingus.   

Thus added to the morning regimen is more indoctrination, Robert to plunge further into his world of degradation.

“More operant conditioning, Mr. Probert... reward for desired behavior... punishment for undesired behavior,” Master Satana drawing from her learning, standing over the naked, bound and erect sceptre of the Queen.

Kneeling between his parted legs remains a smiling Bozuma. Beside Master Satana stands Master Sodoma.  He is horrified to see in her hand the simple yet daunting strip of metal, slipped from the wall collection of torture devices.

“The behavior,” Master Satana lectures. “As you’re aware watching you service Bozuma greatly amuses. I am going to condition you to offer more. As a reward, for every minute your lips and tongue suck her penis, lick her scrotum, tongue her sphincter, you will be rewarded... five minutes lying down, thumb cords slackened. Refusal, undesired behavior, and it’s the heretics fork,” Master Sodoma holding up the medieval replica.

Robert’s heart leaps. His homophobia finds the deed abhorrent. Yet, to lie down! Conversely  there is the threat... his mind jolted with the memory of the slowest most unrelenting torture endured.

“The fork... or do you wish to begin?”   

Bozuma rises, presenting his/her tiny penis.

“An additional twenty minutes if you make her hard for us,” Master Sodoma adds, giggling like a school girl in knowing of the challenge.

Bozuma shuffles forth. Has Robert a choice but to engulf? He justifies to himself... who is ever to know? He has decided on a life of servitude in the matriarchy of Zolanda. What person with meaningful influence in the outside world will ever know he has been induced to suck cock?

Operant conditioning begins, Robert hearing Bzouma squeal in delight as his tongue works the vestigial male organ. Master Satana steps forth. In further encouragement, she tenderly pats Robert’s long locks, master to dog, then makes a point of gesturing to one of several cameras high in the corners of the room.

The reminder stuns. Robert’s internal question... who will know... is answered. His video archive of subjugation grows.

He for sure will have no place in the world other than Zolanda.

Monotony

Not summoned by her Majesty, the days of the Queen’s sceptre become repetitive. Mornings a magnificently nude Master Satana rises from a long night of love making, pushing the low stool between Robert’s outstretched legs. She sits, teasingly presenting her mons, remaining moist and fragrant. Robert’s heart pounds, straining against his bonds, working in eagerness as the tip of his tongue begins to cleanse. After moments of tantalizing, his Master slowly slides forth, permitting Robert to fully savor. Finally it becomes time to be toileted, Robert’s tongue slipping inward to find the urethral opening, lips pursing. In silence Master Satana empties, hands grasping his ears. Her opening and Robert’s lips become one. There is neatness, no words exchanged, Robert knowing what is expected, opening his throat, her flow going directly to his gullet.

There comes another pat to his head. Master Satana rises, sliding in place a basin for Robert to in turn empty himself, the humiliation of so performing while stiff never to waver.

Spoon fed the tadafil laden mush, Robert cannot recall when last he was permitted to use his hands, the Royal directive that all mambo ne uume rely on feminine supervision for sustenance extending to her Caucasian meketa as well.

Typically the feared Master Sodoma rises, also displaying her charms in full. As Robert is fed she showers. In exiting from her shower nudity flashes, smiling in noting Robert flinches whenever she glances his way, the cruel whipping never to leave his subconscious.

Exercise is next, Robert’s state of constant priapism requiring the stamina, circulation, and blood oxygen level of an Olympic athlete. Treadmill work is extensive, Master Sodoma supervising, her nearby presence bringing quite the incentive, short length of rattan in hand.

Thereafter, Bozuma arrives. Massage, sponge bath, and makeup follow, Robert learning that he is always to appear effeminate whether summoned for exhibition or simply wiling away the hours in bondage.

The morning activity ends with operant conditioning... the required oral adoration... fellatio, scrotal sac, anus, Master Satana tracking the time. Heretic’s fork withheld, for good behavior reward comes in mid afternoon, a gleeful Robert Probert permitted to lie down for the requisite minutes. Such munificence... the stress relieved!    

He tries to bring Bozuma to full erection... earning Master Sodoma’s bonus of twenty minutes. His fervent efforts bring his Masters much amusement... yet most times he fails.

Within weeks of his whipping, Robert learns that oil has been struck, Master Satana reporting the strike at some twenty one hundred feet. Such excites, bringing gratification, his engineering prognostication accurate. Is he to once again visit the drilling site? What is the flow rate? Is the crude sweet or sour? Gas flowing as well? Natural gas liquids?

There is much upon which to advise.

“Tomorrow the Queen commands your presence,” Master Sodoma informs as she guides to the treadmill, “fully dressed... for the drilling site,” Robert knowing he will bear the high neck collar and restrictive anal hook enhancing the exhibition of his erection.

The words bring apprehension, to be once again exposed to his colleagues... former colleagues. Robert mollifies his concern, reminding himself that his former world is no more. There will be a lifetime of servitude to the Queen.... photos of his prettified and erect nakedness meaningless.

Leashed by his testicles as always, Master Sodoma begins the grueling morning workout, slowly working the dial to bring the rotating canvas to a challenging pace. Hands to his head, Robert’s circulation jumps, his breathing steady but heavy. And then it happens!