Roberta Probert - Vignette V - Miss Edie's Visit Continues

Miss Edie’s Visit Continues

“What do you mean ‘prepared’?” Harriet queries.

“Sort of prepared,” Leona corrects.

“Well, I got on the internet... read some stuff... leading Roberta and masturbating him... her... got me thinking. Then I ordered some stuff... and now you know... I need to learn how to use it. Can’t come across as some clumsy dufus in... ah... taking control of things. Next date I’m talking about.”

“Excuse me, Edie. Roberta,” Miss Leona calls out in interrupting. “Time for your breakfast... while we’re talking. Fry up two eggs for yourself... and eat,” Leona’s tone firm and direct. 

“So you have a date,” Harriet encouraging the girl to finish.

“Not yet. There was this guy... a year behind in high school. He was the manager of our softball team... which means he was in charge of refreshments and making sure our uniforms were clean and our equipment was ready... not really managing us. Well he used to look at me. At the time I ignored the wimp... particularly after one of the girls claimed he was sniffing her sweaty socks and underwear. Kind of cute... but... well a wimp. No athletic skills. I think half the team could have beat him up in a fight.”

Roberta distracts, moving about, bells chiming, with a dish of two eggs... fried sunny side up. She is chagrined to stoop, all eyes watching, and let the fare slide into her dog bowl, joining the half eaten bacon and a crust of toast earlier tossed by Miss Harriet.

Edie watched attentively but returns to her story.

“So I decided to take the guy on a date. The jocks that I was with in high school... well... like I said guys think with their dicks. Get off then say goodnight. You know.”

“You’re going to ask him?”

Edie smiles devilishly.

“No I’m going to tell him. He for sure was sniffing my stuff too. And he’s now in college, I don’t think he’d want that known.”

Leona and Harriet look at each other, wordlessly agreeing that the girl Edie is a good fit for the new Benchmark Oil matriarchy.

There comes a pause as Roberta lowers to all fours, face pressed to the dog bowl, sloppily masticating loose eggs with tidbits of bacon difficult to scoop up with lips and tongue. And of course the degrading scene is magnified as he assumes the demanded pose, knees and thighs well parted, elongated sac dangling at the end of the chain , testicle bells ringing with her motion.

“Wow... he... she eats like a dog!” Edie exclaims.

“It’s best for her esteem, Edie, keeps things in line.”  

“And what’s that red rubber between her cheeks?” Edie must ask in curiosity. “And she’s all... like greasy.”

“It’s an anal plug. Roberta won’t admit it but it makes her feel... filled. And as a practical matter it  keeps her... ah... prepared. And she has come to enjoy feeling slippery there. She lubricates herself. Rather telling... like she’s inviting... ah... attention.”

Leona hesitates in her explanation. Are Roberta’s prospective duties in the pink tent to be explained to a girl barely out of school? 

“Good for her prostate,” Leona deciding to go no further.

“Yes, I read about that... with the chastity thing,” Edie’s research apparent. 

“So there will be a date. And you bought some things,” Leona redirecting the conversation.

“Oh yes. Expensive. Hope you don’t mind I had it shipped to the office. Parents...”

“Of course not, Edie. Why don’t you just show us.”

Edie takes a bite of her muffin. As she stands from her chair to retrieve her bag, fingers go to her mouth, tongue and lips pushing out a mushy wad of chewed muffin, dropping it in Roberta’s bowl.

“I saw that it’s the last one. I’ll share it with you, Roberta.”

Both Harriet and Leona smile. Though the offering is disgusting, both women know Roberta will obediently partake. The girl will definitely advance rapidly at Benchmark Oil. 

The bag is dragged to the kitchen table. Edie begins extracting items and implements.

I know I’m imposing... but... well... I can’t be fumbling on my first date. Even in impressing a wimp.

Both Leona and Harriet stifle girlish giggling as onto the kitchen table come cuffs, a collar, leash, riding crop, tethers, clamps.

“No chastity device?’ Leona humorously inquires.

“The cheap ones appear too fragile. And the serious ones... well... I can’t afford.”

“We ‘ll order one for you, Edie. Think of it as an employee benefit.”

“But I do have this,” Edie enthusiastically placing conjoined strips of wood on the table. “The other stuff I can sort of wing it. But this... well... guess I’ll need practice.” 

“It’s a humbler, Edie,” Leona gushes.

“I know. Hand made... some guy sells them on Ebay. But I have no balls to practice on.”

With her plaintive explanation, Edie looks down to where Roberta’s ringed and prodigious gonads swing about between parted thighs. Leona follows her gaze, now outright cackling.

“It would be best to unlock her first. The penis cage may interfere,” implicitly concurring with Edie’s quest.

“I brought the key.”

Roberta Probert - Vignette IV - A Visit From Miss Edie

A Visit From Miss Edie

Miss Harriet and Miss Leona sit at the breakfast table. Roberta serves, the slim links of her chain dragging across the tiling of the kitchen floor sounding in cadence with the bells of her testicle rings, nipples, and earrings. It is Saturday, a morning of leisure. As a platter of bacon is placed at the center of the table. Miss Leona takes a slice, bites one end then playfully tosses the remnants into Roberta’s dog bowl at the floor. 

Roberta then returns with a platter of scrambled eggs. Miss Leona extends her hand. Roberta knows to immediately pause, part her thighs and permit access to her tethered scrotum. A knowing hand palms and lifts, a thumb grazing over the hairless thin pink flesh. Roberta expects another invitation. The cyproterone acetate tablets offered at every morning meal. Instead...

“Make a fried egg... sunny side up,” Leona directs. “For your bowl.”

More playfulness, Roberta directed to eat on all fours, face to the bowl, hands and fingers denied. The suggested fare will be comically sloppy to eat.

“Edie will be stopping in.... Miss Edie,” Leona informs as Roberta thrills with her governing touch. “It’s been I while since she masturbated you.”

“Yes, six weeks,” Miss Harriet joining in the conversation.

“”Six weeks locked in steel,” Leona’s hand going to the mesh of the penis cage, jostling to bring added stimulation.

Roberta closes her eyes, knowing the manipulation will have the intended effect... a catalyst to begin the march to full erection... attempted erection.

“You’re not trying to harden for me, are you Roberta? Girls don’t get hard. It’s crass.”

“No, Ma’am” Roberta biting her lip.    

“Well I’m sure Edie will have the key. She’s taken to her role. Wears it about her neck all the time.”

“Do you think she will use it, Leona,” Miss Harriet again joining in, her tone of voice that of feigned concern.

“Goodness, what do you think, Roberta? You‘ve shown impressive discipline, remaining flaccid while Harriet pegs you every night. Should your penis be granted a reprieve?”

Leona’s words bring images of the typical nightly bedroom scene, Roberta obediently positioned kneeling on the bed, elbows to the mattress, head down, knees parted, buttocks high, back arched, humbly awaiting penetration. Of late Miss Leona has joined in the frolics, standing before her, fingers going to tweak her pierced nipples and flick her bells.

The sensuous onslaught is abetted by Miss Leona’s flimsy robe, folds opening to flash inviting breasts ripening in pregnancy.

“How was your towel, Roberta? Wet?” Miss Harriet inquires. “Prostatic fluid... nasty, sloppy stuff... but always a barometer of male need.”

“Well, we know how to stop that. Don’t we, Roberta?” anti androgens at the ready. 

“It was... ah... moist, Miss Harriet.”

“Tsk, tsk tsk. That’s quite indecorous  Drooling like that in the pink tent will be unseemly. Don’t you think Roberta?”

Roberta begins quaking, the exchange bringing thoughts of his stint months ago at the drilling sight in Zolanda.

“Did you drool for the boys in Zolanda?” Miss Leona seeming to read Roberta’s mind.

Rarely. But how is Roberta to explain that fellatio became a defense ploy, begging to suck cock to obviate robust anal sodomy?

The roustabouts were big, brusque and burly. Face fucking was a welcomed alternative. Despite being prepared, well opened by Masters Satana and Sodoma, rectum made supple by Clinic staff, Roberta feared injury, aside from the abject humiliation.

Leona notes tears forming. She smiles knowing of Roberta’s memories of being entered, mercifully letting the discussion drop, Roberta to return to the stove for hot muffins.       

As the doorbell rings, matters of prostatic discharge are put aside.

“Do curtsy for her, Roberta,” Harriet nodding toward the living room and the front door. “And be particularly obeisant. The girl has your key,” understanding that the visitor can only be the vixen Edie.

Though the teen has certainly seen Roberta naked, led him about leashed, even mastered his/her emancipated penis in experiencing the elation of a controlling hand job, the lengthy chain, symbolizing her servitude, is a concern. Roberta hesitates in apprehension.

“Go Roberta. The girl knows you... knows of your needs...your propensities... your innate craving for feminine guidance,” Miss Leona lectures. “You may even wish to kiss her feet,” Leona adds to bring a snort of laughter from the two Masters.   

Reluctantly. Roberta gathers her chain, assuring such does not snag while negotiating doorways and furniture. Passing through the livingroom she finds herself pausing before a mirror, free hand going to prink loose strands of her lengthy locks. She examines her nails, dismayed to see such need a fresh coating.

Then Roberta berates herself! What is this need to look prettified for the eighteen year old girl of assertiveness?

The key yes. But is there more?

The conflicting emotions begin to overwhelm... the embarrassment... yet to once again be near she with the key! Hope!

Then with one more step comes cognition. More concern. In spending hour after hour anally plugged, the sense of fulfillment, the sensation of squishiness, has been mentally blocked. It now occure, Miss Edie will see she is impaled!

Miss Harriet laid out a particularly large anal plug this morning. Such deviousness! The flaming red flange is sure to be noted! Protruding between hairless cheeks. More ignominy!

The door bell rings again. Roberta puts aside her reservations... her thoughts... and dashes forth. In opening to grant entry she dips, lowering herself in an animated curtsy, her many bells ringing as Edie steps within. 

“You’re naked, Roberta, here in Harriet’s home!” gushing with enthusiasm.

“Yes, Miss Edie. Welcome.”

“Wow. No leash... but you’re like... chained!”

“It’s a proclamation, Edie,” Harriet Cabot stepping from the kitchen to greet. “For the likes of Roberta, it’s important for her to announce her subservience.”

“May... may I take your bag, Miss Edie?” Roberta forcing herself to focus on the role of servant.

Edie dismissively hands over a sizable over-the-shoulder bag, attention drawn to Harriet.  

“Come into the kitchen, Edie. Join Leona and me. There are muffins. And Roberta will cook what you’d like... bacon, eggs, sausages, toast. She’s becoming an inspired cook.” 

“Does she... ah... really want to so... like advertise...” Edie nodding to the long string of metal links, ending at a padlock at the barbed rings of Roberta’s scrotum.

“She locks herself in the restricting chain every morning. For a girl with her deviant needs it’s important... addresses her curious sense of vulnerability by countering with a perverse feeling of security. Being a captive can console the likes of Roberta. Like being tightly bound in a dark cell. Yes one is denied contact with the outside world... but also one is shielded. Bondage and confinement can be a two edged sword.”  

“I like the heels,” Edie compliments. “Kind of silly though... walking about otherwise nude.”

“Yes. But what you term silly is quite humiliating. For Roberta that’s what it’s all about.”

Harriet leads, Edie follows, hearing behind the clatter of links... and Roberta’s bells, which the girl expects.

Into the kitchen, Leona rises from her chair, giving young Edie with a hug.

“I know you’ve probably brought the key. But don’t feel obligated to use it, Edie. It’s totally at your discretion whether Roberta ever again... ah... benefits from a woman’s graciousness,” Leona humorously stroking the air with her clenched hand.

“Oh, no. That was fun... informative... but I’d not want to impose. I understand the importance of denial... the intensity... the need for males to capitulate to feminine control.”

“Really, Edie. Learning... such edification at your age.” Leona genuinely impressed.

“The internet. Boyfriend situation... situations. Then leading about Robert... Roberta... on a leash... and masturbating him... her. Kind of inspired me to do some researching.”

Roberta listens, knowing as a servant not to be heard... striving not to be seen... and places the stuffed bag in a kitchen corner. She then moves to the oven and places a freshly baked muffin on a plate, serving in humble silence.

“So you researched... and found?” Miss Harriet prompts. 

“Guys really do need guidance. They sort of think with their dicks. So the next boyfriend... well... I’m prepared... sort of,” Edie stifling a giggle. 

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Roberta Probert - Vignette III - The Cabot Estate Routine

As a reminder, if you have not read the 'Prominence' trilogy, these vignettes my seem incongruous.

*****

The Cabot Estate Routine

For Roberta, life at the Cabot Estate falls into a daily routine... of subjugation and humiliation of course... yet a routine.

With the arrival of Executive Vice President Leona Parsons, a delivery truck later dropped off a crate of significant size and weight. Jabari put her muscling to work, dragging into the house, up the stairs to the master bedroom. There Roberta watched in dismay as a cage of steel bars was assembled, designed for a massive pet. Dismay grew as Roberta realized there was no pet in the Cabot household. 

“You’ll feel safe, Roberta,” Jabari chided in tightening the last bolt. 

Powerful meaty hands then grasped Roberta’s chain, painfully taking in the slack and guiding Roberta into the enclosure of steel.

“See, nice and confining for you. And certainly better than four point restraint... or being forced to sleep sitting upright.”

In referencing the extensive indoctrination at the Clinic of Zolanda, later enduring Master Satana’s operant conditioning in the prison bedroom of the Queen’s Palace, Roberta once again comes to understand that the vast video archive of his servitude to the Queen is apparently open to viewing. Can anyone access?  

“You must always be reminded of your place, Roberta,” Jabari adds with a sardonic snort.

Yes, Roberta is to remain sleeping in the master bedroom of Miss Harriet. Yet now hunched, curled up in a dog cage as Miss Leona and Miss Harriet cuddle together. She is mindful of the nightly Sapphic embrace of Masters Satana and Sodoma, awakened throughout the many nights with moans, groans and orgasmic shrieks of pleasure. 

Yes, Roberta now slumbers while subordinated to a mechanical device, a locking mechanism clicking open every morning, a timer releasing Roberta so that she can quietly arise, chain herself and begin the day of servitude... the first duty typically being to retrieve and clean the soiled dildo from the prior evening’s long and deep pegging.

Yes, with a snap of fingers, words superfluous, Roberta mounts the mattress, assumes the genupectoral position, spreads herself for penetration and awaits. 

Coffee is prepared, Roberta returning to the bedroom tray in hand, endeavoring to quiet her many bells, humbly kneeling in wait, Master Harriet to stir first.

With Miss Leona’s presence, Roberta is heartened that his Louisiana Master too has taken to sleeping nude... no cat suit... and just as Masters Satana and Sodoma she toilets him.

“An invigorating start of the day, don’t you think Roberta? For both of us,” Miss Harriet adds with a nonchalant snicker, knowing of the intensity of the power exchange and Roberta’s quirky thrill as an attentive tongue dutifully tidies her quim.

Coffee is offered. Miss Harriet takes her cup and steps to a wall arrayed with Feeldoes and anal insertions; She selects, tossing to the carpet where Roberta remains kneeling. She in turn knows to impale herself in silence as Miss Harriet sips, amused in watching the self deprecating thrust of the stout rubber egg. She then steps to the shower and Miss Leona stirs and rises.

Having not before the basked in the full beauty of she who masterminded her downfall, Roberta gazes in admiration. Within weeks Miss Leona begins to show, Chester Mark junior gestating within her belly. And whereas Miss Leona was initally shy in utilizing Roberta’s mouth, pregnancy brings urgent bladder needs and she more and more finds Roberta’s mouth, tongue and lips to be convenient.

As her new Masters bathe and groom Roberta retreats to the kitchen. Breakfast is prepared. Roberta serves. Miss Leona too has come to enjoy watching as Roberta goes to all fours eating from a dog bowl. Ladened with table scraps, on occasion Roberta will feel a warm comfortng hand cradle her well exposed, elongated scrotal sac as she knows to keep well parted her knees and thighs.

“Such an anomaly, a girl chained by her balls,” Miss Leona pleasantly taunts. “The pills, Roberta. The anti androgens are right here. Miss Harriet will place on your tongue. The ultimate in male submission to the governing female. It can begin today... the final step in your transition.” 

The hand squeezes, gently but firmly, assuring Roberta’s attention.

“Two hundred milligrams of transformation, Roberta. It’s a decision... to be made by you. And you’ll make it. The time will come.”

Roberta turns his head away from her feeding bowl to see Miss Harriet standing proximate, pill bottle in hand, shaking, the rattling of the large tablet ominous

Refusal is subtle, Roberta returning her face to her bowl.

Needless to say, Roberta senses relief as her Masters complete the morning meal and depart for the office. Thereafter housework begins, cleaning, laundry, preceded by what Roberta finds to be more and more the highlight of her day... prettifying. Yes, she fancies performing her household duties appearing as effeminate as possible, frequently pausing before mirrors to assure what she hopes is allure.

At day’s ending, wine is chilled, hors d’oeuvres prepared, her new Masters to be pampered after a day in the office. Yet the most meaningful preparation... a thorough internal cleansing, butt plug temporarily removed, abundant lubrication to readily welcome anal penetration. 

Roberta Probert - Vignette II - Miss Leona Parsons Moves In

Miss Leona Parsons Moves In

Roberta exits the basement learning of the commotion. Leona Parsons has entered with Major Domo Jabari following, effortlessly carrying heavy luggage, powerful arms bringing from the company limousine the belongings of the Benchmark boss lady.

“Good morning, Miss Leona,” Roberta highlighting her servitude in curtsying.

Leona smiles wanly, otherwise ignoring. She turns to Harriet Cabot descending the stairs from her bedroom. 

“Has she begun taking her pills?”

Harriet shakes her head.

“Still reluctant. Looks like a girl, dresses like a girl... when permitted... thinks like a girl, acts like a maid, gets fanny fucked like a whore... but won’t take the final step.”

“She has taken to makeup. And her hair looks good. Do you help her, Harriet?”

 “Oh, no. It’s all her doing. Does her nails... fingers and toes... despite having to do so much housework.”

“In Zolanda, she’d be enduring some unending stress position... until she decides. Have you seen the videos of the heretic’s fork, Harriet? Quite effective.”

Roberta is dismayed in being talked about... objectified. And the horrid memory of bearing the devilishly shaped strip of metal under her chin brings turmoil within.

“We need to talk, Roberta. About what is best for Benchmark Oil... and what’s best for you... and your transition,” Leona finally addressing.

“I can cane her for you, Leona,” Jabari gleefully stepping into the exchange. 

“Yes, it would be refreshing to hear her squeal. But such marks would make her unappealing. And it’s best that she mentally and emotionally capitulate... accept the transition.” 

Harriet leads Jabari, taking the luggage up the stairs.

“Come Roberta, to the den. We’ll talk.”

To move, Roberta gathers up the long slim long locked to her testicle rings, bringing Leona to smile with the most humiliating form of bondage.

“You’ve come to enjoy your nakedness... presenting your feminized and hairless form to fully clothed women,” Leona observes in leading the way, smiling in hearing Roberta’s many bells. “You may speak.”

Yes, there is a continuous distant thrill, Roberta has come to accept. Such places her in a unquestionable position of subservience... and vulnerability. And oddly comforts... as Dr. Humbert and the Clinic staff in Zolanda long ago confirmed. 

“I... I... have... ah... well it’s acceptable.”

“Yes, so it seems” Leona entering the masculine office of the Cabot family estate.

She sits at the massive desk. Roberts knows to humbly stand.

“Harriet tells me that you chain yourself... quite obediently, every morning.”

”Yes, Miss Leona. It’s as she directs. I am to be under strict bondage throughout the day.”

“Yes, more acceptance. And it certainly exemplifies who you are... what you are... within the Cabot household. But has not Harriet... Miss Harriet suggested you may choose not to bind yourself?”

Roberta recalls, having put the paradoxical offer out of her mind... that to decline locking in place the chain would mean she would never again feel of strange comfort of its restrictions. She cannot bring herself to choose freedom.

Why?    

And furthermore Roberta, why your testicle rings? Harriet tells me you have the option... securing your chain to the control ring... perhaps simply encircling your waist and locking in place.”

Damn the provocative observations. Roberta searches for a reply not to come. 

“The cyproterone acetate will... among other effects... shrink your unsightly testicles... unsightly in respect of your need to appear effeminate. And as I am sure you’ve been told will... in time... cause your testicle rings to finally slip away. Currently such are quite painful... when you’re leashed under a woman’s firm directing hand. Yet, conversely it seems such are also acceptable. Is that why there is reluctance to take the pills? You want to be forever subject to such debasing control?”  

Food for thought. Roberta ponders in silence.

“I think you fantasize, Roberta. When working about the house you imagine a firm, strict woman is at the other end of your chain. And that excites you.”

Roberta closes her eyes in shame. They know her... the women of the Clinic... now the women of Benchmark Oil... all fully aware of her needs... her penchants... her craving for humiliation... exhibition... the innate masochism... so explicitly and thoroughly diagnosed.

There is no escaping what she is. Is it good that such needs are so aptly addressed? 

“We start with massive dosages, Roberta. That will curtail some of the silly male urges... like concern for getting yourself off instead of pleasing the women who you are meant to serve. It will help you focus. But castration is best done slowly... so the mental and emotional side can transcend with the physical. After a week or so we’ll lower the dosage. You’ll revel in the oh so slow transition... to complete womanhood. Yes in time the testicles will shrink... the rings slipping away. But also the cage, Roberta. Your penis will shrivel as well. You will no longer torment yourself... fighting the spikes... should you some how have an inadvertent desire to harden for us.”

Roberta begins to tremble in envisioning the process, his maleness completely surrendering.

“And in time, no cage at all, Roberta. There are... let’s say... procedures... that can make you... your remnants of masculinity... more presentable. Costly, but when it comes time it will be done at my directive and my expense. Consider it a Benchmark Oil employee benefit.”

Roberta begins to well up. Her tears become a concern... her makeup under duress.

“When I began working at Benchmark as a teen out of high school, the atmosphere was toxic... for women. Such a wild crew of frat boys Benchmark was. Explore and drill... explore and drill. No financial discipline... as Harriet and I are finally cleaning up. And I’ve transformed more. The entire leadership team are women. Yes, there are the roustabouts. But I’ve been hiring women foremen. The likes of Benson are dinosaurs at Benchmark. Women will supervise everything. Men will remain... as chattel. Beasts doing the heavy work... under female supervision. That’s the way its becoming... and that’s the way it will be.”

Roberta listens, impressed with the pride and determination. The woman leads, she dictates, and the likes of Benson and the burly drilling crews listen and obey.

“I brought back the pink tent regimen for more than monetary savings, Roberta... flying the crews in and out for sabbaticals. No more. But I fully understand young men... normal young men... must get their rocks off. Henceforth at Benchmark, it will be under a woman’s direction... with no female employee or contract worker being disparaged... her esteem under assault. Women foremen will decide who visits the pink tent and when. Thus your new role at Benchmark. You sucked, bent and spread for Eddie Pringle and the crew in Zolanada. And you will be sucking, bending and spreading quite often... in the Yukon... in Mexico... in Malaysia... in Libya... wherever we drill. And, yes, Zolanda. In time you’ll be going back. But you’ll need to be made more presentable. And it will be best for you to feel more like a woman... pleasing men as would a trollop, yes. Fellatio... anal sodomy. But appearing as would a woman.”   

Roberta finds herself nodding in agreement.

“So... the pills, Roberta. I would hate to have to have Jabari cane you. Such nasty welts. And if such don’t properly heal, you’ll be even more unpresentable”