Chapter Thirteen

Part Two

Brandy’s Story

Chapter Thirteen

With Melanie’s visit ‘The Anguished E’ not only had candidates but also our first customer.

That afternoon Miss Erma took Shorty to the former bomb shelter to begin his training. Dr. Ann had outlined an enlightening program of indoctrination which would serve to transform Shorty into a groveling plaything for the ravishing Melanie.

Erma wore her traditional uniform of tight halter and extremely short pleated skirt. The material above was thin enough to silhouette her nipples. The abbreviated length of the skirt below flashed her pudendum as she walked. Erma wore no undergarments.

Placed on a perversely comfortable whipping bench, Shorty’s separated thighs revealed two beautifully formed marble sized testicles hanging in his pre-pubescent scrotum. Melanie took great interest and took the time to knead the little organs as Shorty was strapped in a kneeling position over the short padded leather device.

“I hope they grow nice a big,” she gushed, as Erma stepped away to select the nastiest of canes.

Melanie was well briefed on her role and had taken the time the night before to read Dr. Ann Simpson’s treatise on the suggested protocol. When Erma returned to begin, Melanie took up position to the front, tenderly stroking the lad’s cheeks as Erma swished the cruelest of correction instruments through the air, creating a whoosh that young Shorty would so much come to fear.

I stood to the side and observed Erma apply a moderate stroke. The resulting howl was deafening. It was the first stage in a long process and Melanie stepped into her role magnificently.

“I’m going to have you caned until you develop the proper attitude, Shorty. I want a boy who wants to learn to serve, like an eager puppy.”

Melanie let her words sink in then nodded to Erma. Another stroke quickly followed. Shorty was learning who was ultimately in charge..., his new benefactress, Melanie.

“So perhaps you’d like to serve me? I have a very simple task for you...”

Melanie nodded. Another stroke followed. Another howl. Breaking hapless 11 year olds can be delightful to watch. Melanie gently dabbed away the free flowing tears as she encouraged his cooperation.

With the sixth stroke, Shorty was a babbling pile of hairless flesh. Melanie knew he was ready.

“So Erma and I are going to teach you a few things, OK. You’ll try very hard, I know.”

Released and led to what Erma termed the masturbation chair, Shorty was again strapped down. This time seated in a large chair with his gloved arms hung over the back. Shorty’s ankles were placed into stirrups. The chair reminded me of the examination tables in Mom’s office.

“Down you go.”

The chair tilted back, lowering Shorty’s head. Erma adjusted the stirrups, separating and pulling them higher. Shorty’s young genitals were obscenely exposed. Melanie watched in fascination as Erma reached for a large jar of lubricant.

“Good boys get a special reward here at ‘The Anguished E’,” a smiling Erma announced. “And Miss Melanie likes watching good boys receiving their reward.”

Erma began the slow, gratifying yet extremely humiliating process of masturbating Shorty before the eyes of three women. Fingers of her left hand applied lotion to his tight little rectum while the right simply caressed his scrotum and perineum. Despite his protestations, Shorty’s little penis arose again. The glans slowly but steadily slid out of the foreskin. His young four inches stood straight up without being touched. Erma knew all the male erogenous zones and she so much enjoyed the process of bringing an unwilling boy to full tumescence before a group of amused women.

The index finger of the left hand wormed its way into Shorty’s puckered anus. At his age, it was a sensation never before experienced and with Erma’s level of skill would probably not experience any where else.

“Over your stay here, you’ll become more and more accustomed to this Shorty. Just relax and let Miss Erma open you up..., enjoy.”

The boy had no choice. Erma’s hands were large, strong and unrelenting. Shorty could only surrender his unutilized sphincter to the whim of his new trainer.

Then she found the magical little male gland and Shorty’s penis spasmed. We laughed as his squirms of protest turned to wriggles of pleasure.

“Should I stop now?” Miss Erma facetiously inquired, pausing.

Shorty shook his head.

“Well to continue, Miss Melanie will need you to service her. I think you’d like that better than the cane, would you not”

I handed Melanie the blindfold. She teasingly blew on Shorty’s face then covered his eyes. His nose and mouth remained exposed.

If there is one thing a model learns over her career it’s how to undress quickly and to do so when a wandering male eye cannot be detected. Thus Melanie’s simple blouse and jeans were discarded in what seemed to be a single graceful move. She stood over her new acquisition naked. I marveled at her huge breasts which were out of proportion to perfectly shaped but modest legs and buttocks.

She stepped over Shorty’s head as if mounting a bicycle. Shorty was then introduced to the delights, perhaps for him the rigors, of oral service. Melanie lowered herself until her labia completely covered his mouth.

“Your tongue please, Shorty. Thrust it between my lips. Learn well and Miss Erma will continue. Or you can amuse me with more of the cane.”

Shorty had a long afternoon ahead.

Though Shorty’s age precluded ejaculation, Erma knew not only how to bring about the dry orgasm of a pre-pubescent boy but also how to extend the tantalizing pleasure until she was ready to allow the strange ultimate climax which simulated the orgasm of the mature male. Her penetrating finger detected exactly where his young organs were in the process of achieving the dry orgasm. I could not help thinking that Shorty would never truly experience a wet one. Mom’s scalpel awaited. Meanwhile over the next few months of his stay he would meticulously learn the art of cunnilingus.

That Saturday, Shorty had his first lesson in female control of the male organs. He learned that working the female genitalia with lips and tongue earned him the exquisite pleasure afforded by Miss Erma’s hands. With zealous licks of his tongue his prostate gland, scrotum and perineum received the most sensuous of caresses. With indolent efforts Miss Erma’s hands stopped. Refusal to apply lips and tongue found Miss Erma’s large and powerful fingers painfully squeezing what even a boy of 11 finds precious. Continued resistance would earn a trip to the whipping bench.

Shorty quickly learned to lick, choosing to avail himself of Miss Erma’s skills and avoid her wrath.

Meanwhile Melanie gave very specific instructions as to where his tongue could do the most good. Shorty listened well, seeming to beg for the attention of Miss Erma’s hands.

“Take it all, Shorty. Be a good boy. You’re going to learn to savor my juices. Within a few weeks it will become like nourishment for you. You’ll come to relish my scent.”

Yes, he would. While watching Melanie take her pleasure I thought about the training program developed by Dr. Ann. It was filled with specific rewards and punishments. Over the ensuing months, psychologically Shorty would come to associate cunnilingus with his own pleasure. Only when inhaling Melanie’s scent would his organs receive the skilled massage of Miss Erma’s hands. The only time he would be masturbated would be when Melanie’s fine sex covered his mouth. Other times, in Melanie’s absence, her soiled panties would be used as a catalyst for tumescence, the fragrance of her genitalia causing Shorty to become aroused.

The program called for initial immersion to Melanie’s presence, with ample opportunities for Shorty to earn a dry orgasm. Then would come denial, with Miss Erma offering only soiled panties and a trip to the deep shelter as consolation. By then he would begin to comprehend his need to serve...., that humbly lying blindfolded with head between the soft warm thighs of one of the world’s most beautiful women was a fine substitute for a long morning strapped to oddly comfortable device awaiting the searing pain of Miss Erma’s cane.

He would begin to pine for Melanie’s return. He would find his young penis standing with each recollection of servicing her charms. Even the soiled panties would be relished.

And then in month three the time would come for Melanie to return and allow him a chance to earn a position of permanent servility.

“I’d like to have you altered, Shorty. With just a simple operation you’ll no longer have to wear the blindfold. We’ll be together much more often. Maybe you’ll even help me with my bath.”

By then Shorty’s phallus would be standing just from the sound of her voice and he would nod with enthusiasm, little realizing that he would become at ‘The Angished E’ the first of many boys to be altered at the whim of a dominant female.

At considerable expense, Mom had a fairly well equipped operating room installed at the ranch. Shorty would find himself to be aptly named.

Melanie moaned bringing my mind back to the shelter. Her thighs squeezed paroxysmally. She moaned and pinched the boy’s nipples.

“Suck!”

My own clitoris hardened with the realization that Shorty’s lips were firmly wrapped about her bud. A small cry signaled her final climax. Erma mercifully finished Shorty, finally stroking the firm but tiny shaft, the penetrating finger of her left hand feeling his little glands emulate the ejaculation he was not old enough to yet achieve.

Melanie sat in complete satiation, finally arising to allow Shorty to breathe. She donned her clothing with a coy smile.

“I cannot wait until he’s better trained.”

Chapter Twelve

Part Two

Brandy’s Story

Chapter Twelve

Attention: Beyond this point... All males must be either blindfolded or have been infibulated, belted or altered.

Pat was just finishing the lettering on the sign at the entrance to the pool. The former owners had a sizable swimming pool installed well away from the main house. I suppose not wanting the sound of playing children to be disturbing.

I in turn had a second but even higher fence erected around the area, knowing that our customers would love to sunbathe while spending time at the ranch ‘bonding’ with their new companions.

Although my light skin mandated that I avoid the sun, many of the darker skinned models thrived on the exposure and in our business, no tan lines are allowed. So one either avoids contact completely or when feasible sunbathes completely nude.
As scheduled, Pat had picked up Melanie for a long weekend. With hours of sunlight remaining on the Friday afternoon, the gorgeous brunette was taking a swim and was enthralled with Tony and Johnnie. She felt very comfortable knowing that their organs were quite well restrained. Pretty young models feel very vulnerable to the caprice of the male libido. As described, an unfortunate moment of indiscretion, with or without consent, could cost a girl thousands in lost revenue.

Thus, I added the precautionary sign which served as an announcement that the girls could feel comfortable completely disrobing at ‘The Anguished E’ pool. Salivating males could be present while the girls cavorted naked. But that is all they could do..., salivate.

Poor Tony found himself serving refreshments to the naked Melanie. She was a divine young woman with short dark hair, violet eyes, and was somewhat anomalous to the profession in that above her extremely slight waist were two sizable but firm mammary glands. So when she removed her robe by the pool, I thought Tony’s rapidly engorging organ would break the infibulating wire. And judging from Tony’s reaction to the pain, I believe he would agree.

Since Tony was never before permitted to view feminine charms he spent the afternoon availing himself of every opportunity to glimpse Melanie’s sex. She was shaved as most of us were in the business and her modest but perfectly symmetrical labia were capped by a clitoral hood that offered a glimpse of her little feminine bud as she lied prostrate sunning her back. Melanie teasingly separated her legs and Tony so enthusiastically savored the view that he placed himself in agony.

Melanie was amused by Tony. Knowing that he could observe but not partake provided her with a calmness and level of control which I think every sixteen year old girl should have.

“He likes to retrieve things if you get bored, Melanie.”

She smiled with the thought. The remainder of Friday afternoon, when not sending him for drinks, Melanie kept Tony busy while enjoying the sun. She clipped his elbows together and occasionally tossed a stick-like piece of rubber into the pool. Tony would jump in and endeavor to grasp the object in his teeth, eventually retrieving the object and like a dog, humbly bringing it back to a smiling Melanie.

I think Tony was grateful to feel the effect of the cooling water on his roiling genitals, despite his exaggerated efforts to swim with arms constrained and the weight of his many gold trinkets and chains.

On Saturday morning, Erma..., known as Miss Erma to the boys..., had our motley collection of orphans and vagabonds lined up in the hallway of the dormer. All wore the single glove behind their backs. Erma deemed such a constraint to be simple, effective in precluding masturbation, and esthetic. Judging from the bill I received for the large collection of varying sizes, the gloves were fabricated from the finest leather. I was at first surprised by the cost but then realized since it was the only garment I had to purchase for my collection of naked boys, I suppose the price was justifiable.

The sight of four hairless boys lined up outside their respective doors was thrillingly decadent. Minutes before Melanie and I arrived to inspect, Johnnie had crawled from boy to boy and ensured each was properly erect. I have always found it amusing to watch the homophobic male be orally stimulated by the likes of Johnnie..., their reaction of disgust slowly giving way to sensations rarely experienced by young males but greatly enjoyed. Johnnie was an accomplished fellator. Within minutes each boy was standing ready for Melanie.

Erma stood by with her preferred instrument of correction, the cane. The buttocks of the masturbator evidenced her prowess, Erma apparently amusing herself and establishing her control the prior evening. Thus, good behavior was assured and Melanie, though young, conducted herself with the stern aplomb of a slave buyer.

“I so much like the lack of hair. Leaves the boys wonderfully exposed.”

She had Johnnie palm the testicles of two of the boys for closer inspection.

“For my selection, I’ll want to see a nice set of plumbs in a low hanging sac as he gets older,” explained Melanie. “Is there anyway of assuring that at an early age?”
Erma offered advice.

“Chose for compatibility, Melanie. We can make the testicles appear any way you like.”

“And the tongue?” the cautious girl rejoindered.

I replied.

“They’ve all begun basic training. Given a few more weeks, your selection will be orally suited to your desires. That’s an ‘Anguished E’ guarantee.”

I could not help laughing to myself, selling the skills of prepubescent boys like laundry detergent.

After inspecting all the tongues, Melanie selected a nice 11 year old.

“Why not stay and watch the morning ablutions then we’ll talk terms and conditions.”
She was impressed with Erma’s firm handling of the boys. Her observation concerning the lack of hair was explained by the daily morning bath in water saturated with a depilatory chemical.

“Not even peach fuzz is left,” she exclaimed.

“With months of daily exposure to the depilating solution, the follicles eventually shrink up. We offer electrolysis for faster hair removal on older boys. But at a young age, this is the most effective method,” explained Erma.

The boys cowered with Erma standing nearby with the cane. Their gloves were removed for their bath, leaving them without a stitch before three pairs of feminine eyes. Again each demurred at Johnnie’s touch while he gently washed the most intimate of male anatomical areas. The juxtaposition of being sensually bathed by soft, effeminate hands only to realize they belong to a male, confuses the psyche. Our more mature masturbator, age 16, had much trouble dealing with the scenario. And as Melanie and I left for my office, Erma extended a gracious invitation for him to visit the well equipped sound proofed basement. He was frightened as well he should have been.

Over coffee and Danish we talked in my office.

“Initial training is $5,000 per month for three months. Then we recommend a type of warranty program that for $500 per month allows you to bring him back to correct any degree of recalcitrance plus an annual refresher type training..., term it a tune up.

“As discussed, alterations are extra. I assume you looked over the various options.”
My Mom had put together a wonderful catalogue explaining in detail the various methods for making young males either chaste, infertile or impotent. Some involved simple piercings, such as she had done with Tony. Others included expensive chastity devices such as that worn by Johnnie. And others involved surgery, performed by Mom of course.

“It’s expensive but I’ll want the penectomy. As stated I like the virile look of a nice set of gonads but the thought that the hormone flow could drive him to attempt to please himself oncerns me.”

I nodded with agreement. After all, I was now a business woman and Melanie had chosen the most expensive and most profitable procedure.

“Can they leave some of the shaft? It would be cute to see it stand.”

I nodded and we both laughed as I jotted her demands into the permanent file of my first sale.

“I’m told that as long as the sensitive tip is removed and a good portion of the shaft, ejaculation is obviated. The desire for ecstatic relief remains but the semen just kind of dribbles leaving the male with little satisfaction.”

“That’s what I’ll want,” a smiling Melanie declared as she reached for her check book.

“This afternoon we can begin indoctrination. Your boy will be blindfolded and can service you either in your room, in our special training facility, or around the pool. Erma will be present. Despite his young age he’s quickly learned to relish her firm touch. She is very close to having him stand on command.

“Did you bring the panties?” I reminded the amazingly mature 16 year old.

“Dozens. Emptied my laundry hamper. Some are quite fragrant. Sometimes I rent spicy movies while away on long photo shoots. Found two with women running guys harnessed to a pony cart. I think I soaked a couple pair watching those.”

I smiled. At an age of awkwardness for most girls, Melanie was firmly marching down an enviable path. I continued writing as she posed a question I had not anticipated.

“What is the boy’s name?”

I flipped pages to the front of the file to find it, then a quick thought came.

“It really doesn’t matter, Melanie. What do you want to call him?”

Melanie giggled rather foolishly, for the first time conveying her age.

“Shorty.”

Part Two - Chapter Eleven

Reader beware, the story contains elements of taboo interaction... characters under eighteen!

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The Anguished E

Beginning of Part Two

Brandy’s Story

Chapter Eleven

Looking beautiful isn’t easy. Matter of fact it’s work.

And some of the toughest work is in denying oneself the simple pleasures so often offered to stunningly gorgeous models such as me in order to continue pursuing a career and the lucrative paycheck that comes with it.

I was lucky to have Tony satisfying my needs from early in my career. His servile tongue kept me satisfied and thus I was free to concentrate and avoid contacts with low life males whose only motivation in life is to stick their disgusting phalli into any place deemed warm, wet and tight.

And it was not only my concupiscent classmates whose conduct and come ons were repulsive. Frequently there were oversexed adults affiliated with modeling agencies, fashion designers, advertisers, etc. who also made offers, admittedly more tempting, but sordid just the same and particularly in the early years when I was very much underage.

When I reached my majority, though still young I was experienced enough to realize that in terms of modeling careers, mine was middle aged. It would eventually end, but with money and a unique business concept, new things could begin. And Tony, my new ward, became a paradigm for my business.

I purchased ‘The Anguished E’ ranch to execute what I considered to be a most innovative plan. Just as Tony kept me satisfied when a girl’s hormones most needed attention, I could provide others with the same service. And Mom was already acquainted with the people needed to execute the plan. I merely had to assemble my team and provide a facility. Money would be required for both and money I had.

The ranch house was large. The former owners operated a dude ranch for kids and the east end of the house had been expanded into a dormer. A dozen small bedrooms lined a hallway, six on each side, with a spacious bathroom at the end. After installing proper locks, locking one way from the outside hallway, adding one way mirrors and refurbishing the bathroom to include restraints, special plumbing and a large tub, I had suitable quarters for many candidates.

There were large bedrooms for adults. Pat and I shared quarters on the west end and there I also had four commodious guest rooms luxuriously decorated for visiting clients.

Erma needed to be near the boys. So a room originally designed as a lounge when the east wing was added became her quarters, providing quick access to the small bedrooms and bathroom.

With the conversion of the ranch house I had Erma equip the deep basement bomb shelter with whatever was required. She had an open check book and used it well, installing ominous, custom made furniture, all designed to restrain and bend the body in countless positions and, with such, the mind, of course.

Yes, that’s Erma..., the tall black woman from the party. Little did Tony realize that his ‘graduation’ party served as the catalyst for establishing ‘The Anguished E’. The Judge was such a venal character that it didn’t require much more than the lips of Johnnie wrapped around his withered manhood to have Tony committed as my ward. And afterwards, as quid pro quo for the only duplicate key to the locking strip of steel between Johnnie’s buttocks, the Judge agreed to provide me with candidates to be processed and sold by ‘The Anguished E’. For the mere pleasure of splitting Johnnie’s cheeks from time to time, his ‘Honor’ would ensure a steady supply of ‘troubled’ youths..., scamps approaching puberty and deemed to be in need of food, shelter and the daily care and discipline of a firm woman...,

Legally that would be me, of course. But as a practical matter it was Erma who would provide the firm hand. Yes, I recruited her just before the party. And when she learned of my plans she was ecstatic, agreeing to put Johnnie’s charms to work on the Judge. From me she needed room, board, some spending money and a portion of the profits to be deferred toward her retirement, if a woman with her skills ever truly retires. Johnnie came with the deal.

And Mom had such great experience with Tony. She so much enjoyed piercing and decorating his body. ‘Rarely is a woman with medical talent presented with an opportunity to so lewdly display her work,’ she commented to me after skewering his hips for the addition of the waist chain. So it was an easy matter to recruit her and encourage a weekly visit to ensure the candidates’ health. Nurse Annika would come with her. She was not to be denied any opportunity in handling young males.

The car load of fashion models which Pat brought to the party was actually the beginning of my marketing plan. I knew most of the girls, some for years, from working the runways and competing for photo shoots. Many expressed exasperation with their sex lives and had experiences very much similar to mine. When they saw Tony..., naked, pierced and jeweled at my whim, word spread quickly within the industry. I had demand for a product I could not yet produce.

Dr. Ann Simpson was extremely helpful.

“The candidates will need profiling and counseling, Brandy. You’re engaging in a process of indoctrination. At the age you’re suggesting, it’s quite doable if done properly.”

As always, when it came to subjugating the male, Dr. Ann was most authoritative.

“I spend two days a month at a home for juvenile offenders. Some of the boys are incorrigible, though the state will keep attempting to reform them. I have one I recently interviewed that evidences behavior which would augment your supply of candidates. Seems he enjoys masturbating in front of the security matrons. I am told he has developed a curious relationship with one guard where he climaxes only upon her command and only when she raises her skirt and lets him soil her boot with his seed.

“He’s obviously past puberty. But one of your more mature clients may enjoy his company. The masturbation thing is easily controlled, as you are well aware. And the Judge would sign the papers for his transfer in a second.”

I could not help flashing my bright blue eyes and famous smile with Dr. Ann’s suggestion. Though my plans were for boys closer to the age of Tony when he first arrived at Mom’s pool, Erma could easily withstand the challenge of an older boy.

So we moved to the arid mountains of Southern California and began. Pat became the administrator of ‘The Anguished E’ with Tony initially as cook and later as maid and laundress. It was fascinating to observe Pat establish her authority. No longer was Tony’s manhood swatted down in the antiseptically medical ritual used by Mom and Nurse Annika. Instead, in deference to the ranch motif, Pat took to carrying a short crop and found that nipping the sensitive pink tip of Tony’s erection with a long quick stroke brought instant flaccidity and delightful pain.

She also introduced Tony to the effectiveness of the electrified fence, pulling him by his leash and backing him into the grid near the gate. The voltage was carefully regulated and I had the electricians set the level just below that which would compel unconsciousness. So when Tony’s naked buttocks made contact, the resulting cry of pain was most comical, and I wish I had photos of him dancing about with ankles so nicely hobbled.

Later we found that introducing a boy to the fence was good inauguration to ‘The Anguished E’, impressing that attempts to escape naked into the Mojave desert would begin with the shocking ordeal of negotiating an eight foot high-voltage fence...., and watch out for those tender pink testicles on the course wood...

Since I still had duties modeling, I spearheaded the marketing efforts. The income remained good and the more contact I had with other models the more I could pass the word about our endeavors, though surprisingly many of the girls heard word and inquired before I could introduce the subject.

“There are so many times, particularly after turning down some ludicrously suggestive offer from a bald ad exec, that I would love to just lie in bed, naked and have a good set of lips work my little bud. Start when I want. Finish when I want. Start again..., and again...”

Melanie’s comments were typical and though humorously expressed were in earnest. She was a ravishing sixteen year old, had had a sizzling two year career of modeling for hair care products, and could care less about the social aspects of interaction with males.

“I need oral attention when and how I want it..., without the perils of possible pregnancy from being with an out-of-control oversexed stud. And you know I can afford it, Brandy.”

Yes, she could indeed.

Dr. Ann Simpson gave me some basic questions to ask of our clients. I teasingly inquired. Got my answers and suggested that Melanie visit “The Anguished E” for a long week end in the following month.

“You’ll enjoy nude sunbathing without any gawkers or clicking cameras, and by that time we’ll have a selection for you.”

With a quick phone call to Dr. Ann, the search began for our first serious candidate. At that point in time, the paper work for the masturbator was already on the Judge’s desk. As a lark I had told Dr. Ann to have him transferred to our care. I thought Erma would be amused.

Ann also had found a more suitable candidate..., eleven years old and beginning to explore himself.

“I had him strip in my office and show me what he likes to do, Brandy. He has such a busy hand and goes at it with such alacrity. I think you’ll be pleased.”

Within a week the ranch’s herd of ‘livestock’ began to grow. Mom and Nurse Annika came across two lads while offering volunteer services at an orphanage..., most obstreperous tykes who reacted rather curiously when Nurse Annika deprived them of their clothing. Definitely the kind Erma loved to break. A talk with the director of the orphanage and a quick call to the Judge found them naked and riding in the back of Pat’s limousine that very afternoon.

So, by the time our first customer, Melanie, visited we had three prepubescent boys and the masturbator, who quickly became the former masturbator under Erma’s tutelage...

Chapter Ten

The Anguished E

Tony’s Story

Chapter Ten

My new guardians deemed college to be superfluous to my duties.

“With education comes pride,” Brandy noted.

“I need a humble housekeeper. You’ll stay at home. I’ll work.”

Pat also pointed out that attending courses did not correlate with my deemed legal status, ‘non compos mentis’.

So as autumn approached, I just laid about the pool each day, waiting for my new guardians to arrive home from a photo shoot or modeling session. Sometimes there was enough time in the day for them to swim and if Dr. Stella and Nurse Annika remained busy tending to patients, Brandy would find the silk blindfold and hand the rubber tubing to a smiling Pat.

Pat became more involved in my care and Nurse Annika showed her the various steps in caring for the infibulated male.

First demonstrating cutting and removing the nasty thin wire, the nurse explained that caution must be taken in slipping the rough ends out of the pierced foreskin. Then demonstrating that drawing back and pinching the foreskin with deliberate firmness impedes erection while the building smegma is removed.

“Most of these randy chaste males will still tumefy. I consider it to be defiance which must be dealt with quickly.”

Yes, as soon as she released my organ it would harden.

And with that Nurse Annika would lift her right arm well up and to her left and then swiftly swing her hand sideways, applying the back of her finger tips to the extreme tip of my engorging manhood. The pain from such a blow was like that of a whip..., sharp and stinging..., and it would instantly curtail my erection, bringing a smile of satisfaction to Nurse Annika and bringing my penis once again well under her control.

Pat would giggle.

Most humiliating were the times when Nurse Annika deemed it time to massage my prostate. At age eighteen, one can imagine how much fluid accumulated in the glands of a chaste male after a week of complete chastity. And the nurse considered it all hers to be harvested.

With two fingers deeply penetrating my rectum and her free hand vigorously kneading my perineum, Nurse Annika worked and Pat watched as my incredibly erect phallus helplessly pointed skyward while my male essence, clear fluid turning white when the sperm ducts released their contents, streamed down my dark brown shaft. Nurse Annika explained the process and taught Pat the essentials.

“When the fluid returns to clearness that means he’s drained of sperm. You’ll notice he experiences more frustration from the process than pleasure. As mandated no climactic release is permitted, though he will feel a glow from the hormonal release. Afterwards he’ll be quite docile and obedient.”

Pat listened carefully with that devilish smile, seeming to be patiently awaiting her turn.

Afterwards, Pat was taught the simple procedure of threading a new wire through my prepuce, twisting the ends to an uncomfortable level of tightness, then clamping the dated disk over the results as a final attest to my renewed chastity.

Finally, the day came to move to Brandy’s new home. Box after box of Brandy’s possessions were loaded into a truck while I was kept out of sight basking about the pool. When it came time Pat clipped a leash to my neck collar, connected my elbow bands behind my back and led me to the limousine. There, Brandy awaited in the back. The leash was unclipped and Pat quickly snipped and removed my infibulating wire.

I stepped into the rear of the car and for the first time in many years I was alone with Brandy with my penis freed of its simple but effective bondage. My psyche found her proximity to be stimulating. I felt like a puppy greeting its owner.

As the large white vehicle pulled out of Dr. Stella’s long driveway, she fascinatingly watched my manhood engorge. It proceeded to stand for her so proudly..., and I in turn was so proud to be the object of her attention and to amuse her. I was reminded of the early years frolicking naked about the pool with Brandy mandating my tumescence.

I looked out the window as Pat turned the long automobile onto the street. A Salvation Army truck was parked in front of the house. My clothing made for a very generous donation and two grateful workers were emptying Dr. Stella’s house of everything I owned. Brandy could not think of any reason to keep anything.

Pat drove at a leisurely pace. The lumbering moving van which would meet us at the new house had her Ferrari in tow and therefore speed was not necessary. We headed east on a freeway which surprised me. I always pictured Brandy as gravitating toward the ocean. Instead we headed inland and through the windshield I spied the San Gabriel mountains ahead.

Then Brandy slipped off her shoes and pointed downward.

“Let’s put that nice tongue to work.”

For the remainder of the trip, my view was limited to Brandy’s feet as I gave her toes a very meticulous cleansing and massage with lips and tongue. Serving Brandy was curiously stimulating. My phallus stayed erect for the entire trip and Brandy giggled with my struggling attempts to grasp it with elbows restrained.

I was applying long laps to Brandy’s calves when the car turned and I felt the limousine’s engine strain. We began to traverse a long incline and after some twenty minutes turned again. The road became bumpy and I heard stones pinging against the undercarriage.

Finally the auto stopped. The rear door opened and Pat immediately reached in and clipped the leash unto my neck band. I was incredibly erect, excited with the prospect of having my tongue service Brandy’s charms as I worked my way up her legs. She was not wearing undergarments and as always her scent excited.

“New rules, Tony. Whenever you’re not within the compound you’re to be leashed and you’re not to move unless led by someone.”

Brandy was unusually firm in vocalizing her command. I nodded as Pat tugged and I stepped out the door.

I was greeted by a magnificent view of the Mojave desert to the east. Brandy’s huge new home was perched on a mountain top with the nearest highpoint about a mile to the west. It was hot but dry and there was not a cloud to be seen. The landscape was arid and other than some cactus like vegetation near the house, the yard, surrounded by a high wooden fence, was of compacted beige soil. Pat had parked adjacent to a large gate. A sign above, mounted on twelve foot high posts, read ‘The Anguished E’. The bright paint indicated it was new.

Pat pushed a button on a hand held remote control device and a gate clicked open.

“Come.”

Brandy pushed the unlocked gate and stepped through, holding it open for Pat who led me as required, my many bells chiming with each step. She closed the gate and I looked back to see a dozen rows of horizontal exposed wires strung on the inside of the eight foot high white wooden fence. The fence and the wiring ran to my right and left for some hundred yards then each section turned and disappeared behind the house.

“The former owner raised horses. The fence is electrified and continues behind the house for quite a distance. There’s plenty of land here.”

I was walked up toward the house to the sound of my tiny bells and the soft clanking of my many gold chains. The single story structure was set on the highest point of the property. I glanced about and noticed that not only were there no other houses to be seen, there were no signs of anything manmade as far as I could see.

We stepped through the front door.

“You’re going to spend some time in the basement until the movers are through, Tony.”

The house was neither old nor new but before I could acclimate myself I was led to the basement. The sound of the arriving moving van curtailed any further inspection.

Pat opened a door and led me down a flight of stairs. There another door awaited. It was comprised of concrete and framed in thick steel. Though resting on large, lubricated hinges, the well developed muscles of my guardian still strained to pull it open. Within was frightening darkness.

“Built as a bomb shelter during the fifties,” explained the holder of my leash. “This and the seclusion of the location are really what sold us on the place.”

She led me downward, continuing to gently tug.

In reaching the bottom her free hand flicked a switch to light the room. The ceiling was high indicating that a deep basement could easily be dug in the desert without concerns about ground water. But my attention was quickly diverted. The large room was filled with paraphernalia, obviously recently equipped. I could not discern the purpose of many of the devices but an examination table, an exact replica of the ones in Dr. Stella’s office, caught my eye, breaking what was otherwise a sea of darkly stained wood covered with black leather.

Numerous cords and chains hung from beams in the ceiling.

“No time for a tour, Tony. Have to help with the move. Step over here. On your toes.”

As I complied, Pat removed the leash from my neck collar and clipped it to my nose ring. She then raised her hands and looped my leash to a hook hanging from above.

“You’re really going to like it here.”

She gently diddled the underside of my semi-erect penis causing it to twitch then returned to the stairs leaving me standing naked, elbows secured behind my back. Her knowing touch was enough to bring renewed firmness. The leash, connecting my nose ring to the overhead chain, forced me to remain on my toes. She turned out the lights and I stood in complete darkness. Her brief manipulation stirred my excited organ. I believe it rose and remained erect. In the utter blackness it was difficult to determine its stiffness with certainty.

I could not hear or see anything. The former bomb shelter was the equivalent of a large concrete box embedded in the ground beneath the level of a normal basement. Not even the sounds of heavy boxes and furniture being moved penetrated the depths and the hardened ceiling and walls.

Tense... an illustration

Has any one noticed the story (Anguished E) is written in past tense?

Written in 2002, I rarely use such in current efforts as present tense in erotica offers a much better 'venue' for arousal.

Here is the beginning of Chapter Nine rewritten. You will notice that one problem is that the passage of time and changing of a scenario seems abrupt and gives rise to choppiness... an unfortunate result of utilizing the more active tense.


************************************************************************************

Chapter Nine (Present tense)

Two weeks after the party, I am summoned to Dr. Stella’s office. Gratefully no patients are present for I find that my little bells attract much attention and I can no longer slink about the house without receiving a look of devilish delight from either Brandy, the Doctor or Nurse Annika. Thus, I can only imagine the reaction of a patient.

“Hands on head while I talk to you, Tony.”

I comply.

“I have effectuated some changes on your behalf. Your eighteenth birthday is next week and under state law my role as guardian would normally terminate. However, as fiduciary for your trust, I have the responsibility of assuring that control of the funds is passed on to someone competent. Normally that would be you.

“But the behavior you have displayed makes that difficult for me to do. So..., with a psychological report from Dr. Simpson I petitioned the court suggesting that a guardian be indefinitely appointed until you’re deemed competent to manage your own affairs. The court has approved the petition.

“Consider this to be official notification.”

Dr. Stella tosses legal documents across the desk. I only have to read the top page...,

By order of the court

Brandy Robertson and Pat Duvalier appointed guardians for

Anthony Fatiqua

“And I have resigned as trustee of your funds.”

She tosses another document...,

By order of the court...,

Brandy Robertson and Pat Duvalier appointed as

Trustees for the Anthony Fatiqua Trust

I am stunned and remain silent as my thoughts run wildly.

“Nothing you can do or say, Tony. Once you’ve been deemed non compos mentis, any pleadings on your behalf must be made by your guardians..., Brandy or Pat, her driver.

“Makes you feel rather impotent, does it not?”

The Doctor snickers.

“Well..., you are.

“But not to worry. Brandy will have some nice presents for your birthday.

“I’ll want to see you in an examination room on Sunday.”

I try to quietly skulk back to the wash room. But the jewelry chimes away, reminding me of my humbled status as belled pet. So I step quickly to minimize the chance of exposure to patients. Once there I separate laundry and console myself by deeply inhaling the musky aroma of Brandy’s used panties. I have not serviced Brandy in many days and miss her taste and scent.

Once again Sunday becomes a day of apprehension. As expected an alcohol lamp is lit and for this encounter I am strapped to an examination table prostrate. The Doctor calmly speaks as she passes hot needles through my skin. The shards of steel are long and she uses them to pierce thick folds of flesh at each hip and at the small of my back just above the crease in my buttocks.

More gold rings fill the new openings and are permanently soldered closed.

She releases me, turns me on my back and again straps me down.

My diamond pendants are removed and my nipple rings cut off. In their place the Doctor thrusts a horizontal gold bar through each opening. Gloved hands hold up much larger rings, some two inches in diameter.

“Each of these will surround the entire areola, serve to plump your glands like a special brassiere, and very nicely highlight your nipples.”

She places each loop over my crinkled pink nub, presses into my chest to shape my male breasts most effeminately then solders the ends of the gold bar piercing each nipple to the circumference of the loop left and right. I lurch with the heat of the soldering iron so close to my sensitive skin. I begin to realize the new adornments will not be removed..., unless the piercing gold bars are painfully torn away.

Dr. Stella just smiles, reattaching the pendants at the base of the added rings along with the tiny bells.

A neck collar is next. Not as high and thick as Johnnie’s but instead made of gold with several eyelets attached. The Doctor solders it closed.

Bands similar to the neck collar are slipped around my arms just above the elbows, my thighs just above the knees and around my ankles. All have small eyelets attached and when soldered closed fit most snugly.

“There now, Tony. Doesn’t that feel good? Makes you look very pretty. Lots of expensive decorative gold. You'll enjoy showing off for Brandy..., we know boys like you. Thinking about how girlish you look and how much it pleases Brandy will make your penis stiffen. Can you feel it?”

I am chagrined to mentally agree. Feeling the slight pressure in so many places provides an interesting sensation. There is a strange comfort knowing that the expensive collection comes from Brandy. When I am released from the table I indeed feel myself becoming aroused and the Doctor immediately recognizes the symptoms. My engorging penis is once more trying to escape the horridly thin infibulating wire.

“Would you like to put on a nice stand for me? Show off your male organ like a proud peacock?”

I nod and Dr. Stella cuts the wire. My freed penis slowly rises to salute the smiling Doctor. She knows too well of my ingrained proclivity..., yes..., a peacock.

“You’ll find your new bands to be very practical.”

The Doctor produces a simple connecting device..., a pair of attached ‘D’ clamps.

“Arms back for me.”

I push as directed. With two simple clicks, the ‘D’ clamps secure my two elbow bands together behind my back, very much restricting use of my hands.

“Go to the pool and get used to your new jewelry. Brandy’s gone house hunting with Pat so you can stay erect for most of the day.

“Yes, don’t look so surprised. Brandy’s net worth is rather substantial and now that she is 21, she’s free to do whatever she wishes..., buying an expensive home included.”

I spend the remainder of the day around the pool. Having my elbows drawn back and attached behind my back is at first uncomfortable. But the discomfort slowly turns to pain over time. And with the increasing anguish my penis seems to become firmer. The ubiquitous goo slowly flows down the shaft. I humbly lie on my side on a lounge chair with the new rings at my hips serving as constant reminders of the Doctor’s latest handiwork.

As Brandy’s new ward, I wile away the day like a cow put out to pasture. With arms bound, I can not swim. I merely bask in the sun, my skin darkening and further deepening my rich coloring.

Chapter Nine

The Anguished E

Tony’s Story

Chapter Nine

Two weeks after the party, I was summoned to Dr. Stella’s office. Gratefully no patients were present for I found that my little bells attracted much attention and I could no longer slink about the house without receiving a look of devilish delight from either Brandy, the Doctor or Nurse Annika. Thus, I could only imagine the reaction of a patient.

“Hands on head while I talk to you, Tony.”

I complied.

“I have effectuated some changes on your behalf. Your eighteenth birthday is next week and under state law my role as guardian would normally terminate. However, as fiduciary for your trust, I have the responsibility of assuring that control of the funds is passed on to someone competent. Normally that would be you.

“But the behavior you have displayed makes that difficult for me to do. So..., with a psychological report from Dr. Simpson I petitioned the court suggesting that a guardian be indefinitely appointed until you’re deemed competent to manage your own affairs. The court has approved the petition.

“Consider this to be official notification.”

Dr. Stella tossed legal documents across the desk. I only had to read the top page...,

By order of the court

Brandy Robertson and Pat Duvalier appointed guardians for

Anthony Fatiqua

“And I have resigned as trustee of your funds.”

She tossed another document...,

By order of the court..,

Brandy Robertson and Pat Duvalier appointed as

Trustees for the Anthony Fatiqua Trust

I was stunned and remained silent as my thoughts ran wildly.

“Nothing you can do or say, Tony. Once you’ve been deemed non compos mentis, any pleadings on your behalf must be made by your guardians..., Brandy or Pat, her driver.

“Makes you feel rather impotent, does it not?”

The Doctor snickered.

“Well..., you are.

“But not to worry. Brandy will have some nice presents for your birthday.

“I’ll want to see you in an examination room on Sunday.”

I tried to quietly skulk back to the wash room. But the jewelry chimed away, reminding me of my humbled status as belled pet. So I stepped quickly to minimize the chance of exposure to patients. Once there I separated laundry and consoled myself by deeply inhaling the musky aroma of Brandy’s used panties. I had not serviced Brandy in many days and missed her taste and scent.

Once again Sunday became a day of apprehension. As expected an alcohol lamp was lit and for this encounter I was strapped to an examination table prostrate. The Doctor calmly spoke as she passed hot needles through my skin. The shards of steel were long and she used them to pierce thick folds of flesh at each hip and at the small of my back just above the crease in my buttocks.

More gold rings filled the new openings and were permanently soldered closed.

She released me, turned me on my back and again strapped me down.

My diamond pendants were removed and my nipple rings cut off. In their place the Doctor thrust a horizontal gold bar through each opening. Gloved hands held up much larger rings, some two inches in diameter.

“Each of these will surround the entire areola, serve to plump your glands like a special brassiere, and very nicely highlight your nipples.”

She placed each loop over my crinkled pink nub, pressed into my chest to shape my male breasts most effeminately then soldered the ends of the gold bar piercing each nipple to the circumference of the loop left and right. I lurched with the heat of the soldering iron so close to my sensitive skin. I began to realize the new adornments could not be removed..., unless the piercing gold bars were painfully torn away.

Dr. Stella just smiled, reattaching the pendants at the base of the added rings along with the tiny bells.

A neck collar was next. Not as high and thick as Johnnie’s but instead made of gold with several eyelets attached. The Doctor soldered it closed.

Bands similar to the neck collar were slipped around my arms just above the elbows, my thighs just above the knees and around my ankles. All had small eyelets attached and when soldered closed fit most snugly.

“There now, Tony. Doesn’t that feel good? Makes you look very pretty. Lots of expensive decorative gold. You'll enjoy showing off for Brandy..., we know boys like you. Thinking about how girlish you look and how much it pleases Brandy will make your penis stiffen. Can you feel it?”

I was chagrined to mentally agree. Feeling the slight pressure in so many places did provide an interesting sensation. There was a strange comfort knowing that the expensive collection came from Brandy. When I was released from the table I indeed felt myself becoming aroused and the Doctor immediately recognized the symptoms. My engorging penis was once more trying to escape the horridly thin infibulating wire.

“Would you like to put on a nice stand for me? Show off your male organ like a proud peacock?”

I nodded and Dr. Stella cut the wire. My freed penis slowly rose to salute the smiling Doctor. She knew too well of my ingrained proclivity..., yes..., a peacock.

“You’ll find your new bands to be very practical.”

The Doctor produced a simple connecting device..., a pair of attached ‘D’ clamps.

“Arms back for me.”

I pushed as directed. With two simple clicks, the ‘D’ clamps secured my two elbow bands together behind my back, very much restricting use of my hands.

“Go to the pool and get used to your new jewelry. Brandy’s gone house hunting with Pat so you can stay erect for most of the day.

“Yes, don’t look so surprised. Brandy’s net worth is rather substantial and now that she is 21, she’s free to do whatever she wishes..., buying an expensive home included.”

I spent the remainder of the day around the pool. Having my elbows drawn back and attached behind my back was at first uncomfortable. But the discomfort slowly turned to pain over time. And with the increasing anguish my penis seemed to become firmer. The ubiquitous goo slowly flowed down the shaft. I humbly lied on my side on a lounge chair with the new rings at my hips serving as constant reminders of the Doctor’s latest handiwork.

As Brandy’s new ward, I wiled away the day like a cow put out to pasture. With arms bound, I could not swim. I merely basked in the sun, my skin darkening and further deepening my rich coloring.

Just before dinner time, Dr. Stella approached with a new wire, dated disk and the sealing device. She swatted me down, threaded the wire through my foreskin and tightly twisted before applying the seal.

“Brandy called. She found a house and is on her way home. I’m sure she’ll want to see you.”

Gratefully, my elbows were released and I jumped into the pump to cool my heated body.

Within a half hour I heard the throaty roar of Brandy’s Ferrari as she disengaged the clutch, gunned the accelerator and switched off the engine. Minutes later she stepped out the door in a bathing suit of practically nothing. She carried a good sized box which appeared to be heavy.

“Here Tony. I have some things for you.”

My heart always jumped when she spoke to me. It was a thrill just to hear her voice. I pulled myself out of the pool to join my new guardian. I was seeing more of her body than ever. Two sets of strings held small patches of cloth over her nipples and pubes, otherwise there was nothing.

My penis once again tested the wire. She noticed my attempt to become engorged and smiled.

“Always so happy to see me.

“Come.”

I stood before her as she sat on a lounge chair.

“Kneel.”

The box opened to reveal many lengths of gold chain. The links were much larger and stronger than those of the chain I wore at the party. These were also decorative but sent a message of firmness, of serious purpose. There was no warning needed about breaking these chains. The loops could not be pulled open and were designed as functional..., to bind first..., to decorate second.

The lengths had clasps on the ends and I would later learn such were temporary. In Brandy’s enthusiasm she wanted me to wear them in trial, later to be permanently soldered as I found with many of the trinkets I already wore. A short length was attached from my right earring to the nose ring. Another from left earring to nose ring. Though mainly symbolic, the weight placed on my nose, so many nerve endings stressed, served as a constant reminder of my status.

The utility of my new nipple rings was demonstrated with a length each running from the tops of my right and left nipple ring to my neck collar. Another ran from the side of the right nipple ring around my back to the side of the left nipple ring. Another directly from the inside of the right across my chest to the inside of the left. The nipple chains were on the short side and were measured to be tight, pressing the encirling rings up and back and making the areola stand even more prominently through the middle of the openings.

“Stand.”

A chain was threaded around my waist through the three new rings Dr. Stella had just added. Two more were attached to my testicle rings pulled downward and hooked right and left to my new thigh bands. The weight pulled on my scrotum unmercifully and Brandy laughed when I winced.

A ‘Y’ shaped chain was attached to the ring at the small of my back then run between my buttocks to were the two ends split off and were hooked to the testicle rings.

The weight of all the chains was enormous. But Brandy was not through. One last chain, links of an inch with a gauge I judged to be a quarter of an inch, was hooked from ankle to ankle. Just as at the party, it was short. Decorative but most functional, I could not take a full step.

I was grateful that no chain went from nose ring to nipples rings, otherwise the configuration was similar to that worn at the party weeks before. The weight on my nose ring was barely tolerable with the ear chains, and at the party I found it was impossible to eat with the nipple chains blocking my mouth.

Brandy stood and stepped back to observe the epitome of submission..., a well bound and naked male..., and made to appear so pretty..., as Dr. Stella so effusively proclaimed.

“Your penis will be attached here, Tony,” she matter-of-factly pointed out..., her finger indicating a spot on the waist chain just below my navel. "I want it pointing upwards for me..., so I can better see your balls.

“And I like the way the new rings draw attention to your nipples. Like wearing badges. Nice perky glands..., like a pubescent girl.”

I glanced down to see that she was most correct. With the chains serving to press the flesh of my pectorals into my body, the pink nubs oriminently thrust outwards within the circles of gold.

“You’ll have to be careful swimming, Tony. I think it all adds up to a lot of weight.”

She was again most correct. I was wearing many pounds of gold. Brandy had spent a fortune. I felt strangely proud but the nasty infibulating wire prevented me from properly expressing my appreciation. I could feel my organ swelling and winced as the head once again tried to escape its fleshy entombment.

“Yes, I know that the infibulation is a burden. But with the purchase of a house that will change in time.”

My heart skipped a beat with the thought. Alone with Brandy..., with my manhood freed of all constraints. The fantasy caused more tumescence and I winced again.

The Anguished E

I should disclose, for those who have read the story on the Eunuch Archive, I have been making small editorial changes as I post. Nothing to change the story line, but I believe I can now better stimulate then eight years ago.