Whisked to Chessu - Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Though remanded to the custody of Dr. Ann Simpson, Jay Blaine remains incarcerated. It has been explained that he awaits the approval of the life insurance policy, the finalization of Dr. Ann’s report, and an inspection by Madam Soong.

Isolated, kept well cuffed, and of course without clothing, inmate Jay Blaine amuses himself by fantasizing. He misses the feel of his collection of silk panties stolen over the many years and secretly stuffed in a dresser drawer for masturbatory arousal. Still, the thoughts spur twinges within his loins which, in closing his eyes and imaging the smooth softness, leads to erection. When he reopens his eyes after several moments, he notes the flow of prostatic fluid streaming from a stiff penis remaining untouched... chastity mandated by a woman of authority. The latter thought seems to incite more flow. Then come thoughts of Nurse Annika and he strangely pines for her penetrating fingers and the unorthodox stroking of his shaft. This seems to bring more stiffness.

And so the cycle continues. The fact that a security camera mounted above reveals his condition of mental self stimulation is ignored. Over the past few months, even while serving time, his ejaculatory relief has been regular... entertaining the guards for many weeks before ‘Ms. Lesbian Born Again’ invaded his cell and ended his show. So the forced chastity is completely antithetical to his life style... one of depraved onanism... panties and quick furtive pulls of the penis.

There comes rattling at the solid metal door isolating him from the world. He stirs. But with wrists bound behind his back, the small cell bereft of anything except a thin mattress and rudimentary toilet, there is no cloaking his arousal. Besides, the camera has apprized whomever is entering of his condition.

The door swings open, widely, revealing Jay Blaine and his erection to the outside world. There is concern over the exposure of his aroused nakedness. But there is also the odd brisance that served to highlight his joy when so often masturbating for the guards. Yet, in looking up, the pulse of delight quickly extinguishes. It is she... of Sapphos... of newly found religion... the guard who so vocally protested his offer of demented entertainment.

“Well Blaine, it is easy to understand why you’re kept cuffed.”

A nasty woman... physically... temperamentally... she does not bluster, obviously having observed the state if his tumescence by way of the camera.

“Sit upright, spread your legs.”

A defenseless Jay Blaine complies, noting the proximity of his vulnerable organs to the jackbooted woman of disdain.

“You’ve got visitors.”

The woman bends. Though the male gender disgusts, the male body is apparently not found to be offensive. Instead Mr. Jay Blaine finds the woman to be ambivalent over handling male flesh. He is shocked as she palms his scrotal sac, lightly jiggling to position the testes within, then quickly encircling the mass of soft thin, pink skin with a slender elastic cord.

When she steps back, Jay Blaine notes the cord is attached to a more substantial length. As she unravels, he finds it is a leash! He is to be lead about like a dog!

“That stiff pecker makes it easy for me. Most times I have to hold it out of the way.”

Jay Blaine is not the first inmate to be so leashed! The woman who found his naked display of tumescence so revolting has walked men on a leash... naked and utilizing their testicles!

Yes, it was a set up... her shock well feigned.

“Up.”

She pulls, not lightly, but not as firmly as possible. Jay Blaine feels instant tightness and scrambles to his feet, realizing that a full yank would bring agony.

“Turn, offer you hands.”

The inmate bends his wrists and feels the woman work about his left thumb. Something encircles then tightens.

“Hose clamps. Never found anything as simple, effective and cheap.”

The right thumb is similarly bound and the woman moves to his front.

“Come,” the woman turning to step out.

Naked, erection remaining, Jay Blaine looks down with horror as the tightening cord lifts his scrotal sac and he feels tension where the male feels the most. He quickly steps to follow.

He is relieved in knowing that the isolation ward of the prison will offer a view of his bound nakedness to very few. But there are other guards, and the small parade seems to bring either amusement or ambivalence. None are nonplused and the female titters seem to nurture even more arousal.

Deep within the bowels of the prison, Jay Blaine is surprised when he is taken lower, down one flight of concrete stairs then another. Though not claustrophobic, the combined darkness, dank air, and thick walls seem to highlight the isolation... and his vulnerability.

A woman who finds him abhorrent has him bound and leashed. She could tie off his binding and just leave him. Who would find his starved body and when?

Into a sizable room, the lighting equally limited, Jay Blaine notes it is barren. Nothing to note other then a thick length of rope dangling from the ceiling at the center. Metal clasps at the end offer a barely noticeable glitter.

The guard moves about barking commands. She is proficient, finding a floor hook to tie off his leash despite the lack of light.

She has before led inmates to this tomb, he notes. And how have such departed?

“Bend at the waist. Offer your thumbs,” the commands issued as the woman grasps the hanging rope and moves to his rear.

He feels his encircled thumbs being attached to the clasps at the end of the rope.

Strappado! His heart pounds with the thought of the slow torture of leisurely raising the hands and arms up behind the back, eventually bringing excruciating dislocation at the shoulders.

He feels his wrist cuffs being removed. Then the woman works to unravel his testicle leash and steps to the wall. There the opposing end of his binding rope is tied off. The woman pulls, forcing higher his wrists and a deeper bow of submission. When he grunts in pain, she cackles with joy, retying the rope.

Then... she leaves

Whisked to Chessu - Chapter One

Be sure to read the prologue first. Posted October 11.

Chapter One

“The judge has signed the papers, Mr. Blaine. I trust you didn’t gag... too much.”

A return visit to the office of Dr. Ann Simpson. Step one of Mr. Jay Blaine’s journey has been completed. With his look of despair, Dr. Ann reacts with her own look of Schadenfreude. Her irritating sardonic laugh returns in picturing male lips tenderly pursed about the judge’s pecker, slowly offering the mandated oral gratification. She envisions the ironic signing of the release papers at the very moment his hot sperm is released... jetting into the back of her charges throat.

Yes, threatened with charges of lewd behavior, gross violation of prison rules, listing as a sex offender, many more years to be served at hard labor, Jay Blaine agreed to visit the chambers of the judge.

“Every boy should suck cock on occasion, Mr. Blaine. It’s good for the psyche. Consider that to be professional advice.”

The sardonic laugh transforms to an outright chortle as Dr. Ann Simpson gestures with her hands.

“Come now. Strip naked for me, Mr. Blaine. You know how I want you. And technically... legally... you’ve been temporarily remanded to my custody for more psychological evaluation. With a stroke of the pen I can have you back in the judge's chambers. So make me comfortable. You put on a nice show for me with your last visit.”

Jay Blaine feels the twinges before he even opens a button. The tone... knowing... commanding... in charge... confident... begins the cycle. And the good doctor has every reason for her savoir faire. She can indeed renege on the deal. Would it really mean returning to the judge’s chambers?

In baring himself, Jay can still hear the bellow of disgust from the surprised lesbian guard as she stepped into his cell, his prodigious erection standing and awaiting the command to begin stroking. Was it a set up? The other guards were apparently daughters of Sapphos as well, yet seemed to thrill with his fervent strokes. But his accuser... born again. What luck!

“Don’t flatter yourself by thinking I find you attractive, Mr. Blaine. A good sized penis... well controlled... always brings comfort. But otherwise it’s the heightened vulnerability of your nudity which excites. Besides, the first step of your journey is to obtain life insurance. And that requires a physical exam... normally a rudimentary procedure at your young age. But I think something more thorough will benefit both of us.”

The office door opens. A large woman of middle age enters. Crisp white, starched uniform, there can be no doubt as to her profession.

“This is Annika. Don’t expect to perform and show off as I directed you to do with your last visit. Nurse Annika is a proponent of strict chastity for young males. Though she will require a sperm sample, I don’t think you’ll be offering it in crass self gratification as you normally do.”

Jay Blaine looks to the gaze of the very stern blonde woman. He gulps... and he is chagrined to feel himself begin to stiffen once again.

“Up on the coffee table. On all fours. Knees parted. Arch your back. We’ll begin with a prostate exam,” the blonde nurse is equally commanding, her piercing eyes evaluating, his display of nakedness apparently fostering a demented sense of joy.

The nurse ominously snaps a latex glove over her left hand, her fingers large.

Dare he refuse?

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

Did he ejaculate?

Jay Blaine cannot answer his own question. The nurse smirked triumphantly in showing him the petri dish coated with slimy white goo. It certainly appeared to be sperm. But in the process he felt nothing close to the pleasure of climax, instead squirming in discomfort as the large strong fingers of the nurse’s left hand penetrated his tight rectum and the fingers of the right worked his penis shaft.

Was it a hand job?

He had certainly not before experienced such a sensation... wanting more... but also wanting less at the same time... a level of discomfort... yet also a very distant sense of joy... but unable to bring it closer.

The left fingers worked his prostate gland... steadily... and with fervor, two fingers... slowing working in a third! Rectum fully stuffed. But it was the fingers of the right which proved more distressing... stroking only the less sensitive top of his stiffness while pressing to angle the purple head downward... never touching the pleasure center of the underside of the tip. And the stroking was always in a downward motion... never up... bringing him to mentally grovel for the normal full and twisting masturbatory strokes mastered in adolescence. The handling of his penis was deliberately frustrating... coaxing his organs to prime for climactic release but never really offering the ultimate pleasurable hand action.

The result... he was milked... he thinks to himself. Yes, my manhood became a cow’s udder and the woman milked me! Humiliated, yet impressed with her skill... her knowledge of the male anatomy apparently quite extensive. Whenever he came close to pulling the trigger, Nurse Annika immediately sensed pending orgasm and stopped, allowing the ejaculatory muscles to calm... yet only to begin again. Yes, she forcibly extracted his essence, on occasion squeezing firmly but briefly to bring forth a notable glop while Dr. Ann Simpson looked on, her words of encouragement most embarrassing.

‘Yes, give Nurse Annika a nice sample... be a good boy for us.’

Afterward, completing the humiliation was the palpation of his entire nakedness. Nothing escaped the knowing touch of the woman’s hands, her fingers pinching, squeezing, tugging. So much attention paid to his balls... the scrotal sac. Many measurements recorded. For what reason?

Continuing to kneel on the coffee table like a stuffed game animal on display, the women talked openly about his body. He was evaluated. An object.

“Do write a good report for me, Annika. Though Madam Soong pays handsomely the judge takes his cut. And though the scrotal sac is somewhat tight, I think he’ll take very well to the standard stretching... and enjoy it.”

Prologue - Whisked to Chessu

So let's begin our story. Not sure where it will lead.

Note the change in writing style. Not as aloof. Better dialogue, I hope.

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

Whisked To Chessu

Copyright 2010

By Chris Bellows

Prologue

“You have a rather curious habit, Mr. Jay Blaine. Very much in violation of prison rules.”

The young male sits before the imposing yet alluring Dr. Ann Simpson, consulting psychologist for the Los Angeles County Bureau of Corrections. He squirms, testing the ankle and wrist straps which serve to make him one with the hard wooden straight backed chair. With women of authority he has always found attraction... odd attraction... and he is concerned it will show.

“So an initial arrest for shoplifting... women’s undergarments... no need to comment any further on that,” Dr. Ann reading from a file folder. “And then an 18 month sentence for petty theft. Seems rather harsh for a first offender... though we all know this act was most likely not the first occurrence... probably the culmination of many years of purloining panties,” the concluding words coming with a sardonic snicker.

“The judge... in chambers... he wanted me to...”.

“Enough of that Mr. Blaine,” his protest interrupted. “It’s that type of loose talk that earned you inordinate time in the County poky. And besides, if I can offer some off the record advice... do you think any knowledgeable attorney would condescend and become a judge if he couldn’t obtain some fellatio from the hapless defendant... one about to face jail time? All you had to do was suck a little cock and you’d probably have gotten off with a few weeks of community service... with the judge closely monitoring your rehabilitation, of course,” offered with another snicker.

“Instead you refused and got moderate time... but real time... and your circumstances have deteriorated to this situation...”

As her finger firmly prods the top of the file folder, Dr. Simpson’s stern voice, the tone of her lecture, the gesture of reprimand all bring forth the evidence of attraction, that with which Jay Blaine is most concerned. The slow yet steady physical reaction is noted.

“Tsk, tsk. Here you sit for counseling... and look at you!”

Dr. Ann must repress a wicked smile as her charge lowers his gaze to his lap. Yes, his most dreaded concern becomes actuated. His penis begins to stiffen and rise.

“It’s not fair. I should have clothes.”

“Oh, Mr. Blaine, clothing, or the lack thereof, was not a consideration when you were masturbating for the female guards. Besides, I prefer to interview my subjects stripped naked. It nicely imbalances the sense of power, don’t you think? And according to the report you seemed to revel in stripping down and, as you stated for the record, ‘performing’ for them.”

The forthright description of his misdeeds, the stern words of rebuke, completes the rise to full tumescence. The now purple, bulbous tip of his penis stands pointing toward the ceiling. Under his breath Jay Blaine curses himself. He desires flaccidness, but the more forceful the words, the stiffer he becomes.

“And I suppose, but for our nice tight wrist straps, you’d be showing off for me as well... performing for me... like a show dog.”

The prognostication comes with outright laughter as Jay Blaine closes his eyes and feels his penis waggle in strange agreement, wanting to perform indeed. And he does have this insatiable urge to stroke himself...

“It was a set up. They asked. Said they liked that... to watch,” his words so uncomfortably meek.

“I am sure some of the female guards do indeed enjoy the naked subjugated male form... that’s why they are guards in a men’s correctional facility. You just had the misfortunate of entertaining the wrong guard... a devout lesbian... and recently born again. She was quite repulsed... and upset.”

Jay Blaine sheepishly nods. Weeks before, observed strolling from the shower, a female guard noted his substantial endowment and brashly offered that, for certain inmates, well endowed inmates, the strict rule against masturbation could be suspended.

‘Mornings, during the lock down count. I’ll want you naked, on your knees, thighs parted, nice and erect for me. Good boys get some help from the baton,’ the grinning guard holding up the phallic shaped weapon and libidinously motioning with her wrist. Jay Blaine noted that the weapon, ostensibly for defense, was smooth and well polished... too well polished... with drooling traces of unguent remaining. He needed no further encouragement.

So for many mornings during his term of incarceration, he awaited as directed, penis standing. A smiling guard would enter his cell for the standard headcount Then, upon command, perhaps a casual gesture of the baton, he stroked away as a sneering woman of authority observed his humiliation and ultimate climax. Word had spread, with rotating shifts there was more than one guard in the debaucherous cabal. And with each offering the daily guard uttered differing words of derision, all laughing demonically, Jay Blaine found himself immersed in his proclivity. The morning encounters brought excitement... which guard?.. what would she say?.. would a well greased baton be offered? Some of the ‘weapons’ were most suggestively shaped.

Yes, the unknown brought added sexual brisance. He had never before ejaculated so strongly... and so obediently, the female guards mockingly commanding the ultimate spurts of seed. Yes... a show dog... and well trained.

But then came the woman who, though also holding the male in disdain, found no joy, no perverted delectation, in his performance. Stepping into his cell she was greeted by Jay Blaine humbly kneeling naked and erect... in gross violation of prison rules.

She blustered in disgust.

Thus Jay Blaine sits in counseling, the warden awaiting Dr. Ann’s report and recommendation.

“This conduct will add many years to your sentence, Mr. Blaine... plus designation as a sex offender. Effectively a lifetime on parole... should you ever get out. Naughty boys like you have a habit of getting caught again... and again... and again.”

Jay Blaine looks to see that Dr. Ann is provocatively stroking a sizable pen, emulating the teasing manipulation from which he so often benefitted in sleazy massage parlors. His penis waggles again, in its own world, celebrating its ability to entertain a governing woman. Yes, the woman presses his buttons. She knows... fully understands the propensities of the likes of Jay Blaine.

“And I can assure you, with this on your record, much care will be taken to guarantee that your days of performing are over... at least while incarcerated.”

‘Will there be female guards?’ He finds the urge to ask nearly irrepressible. Yet he cannot find his voice, and with second thought, that may be fortunate.

“But there is an alternative. Face it, Mr. Blaine, I have the power to alter your life as you know it. So let’s talk, shall we? That velcro wrist strap is easily loosened. I have some lubricant. Perhaps you’d like to perform for me while I discuss this alternative. It involves some travel but we can arrange sanctuary where a boy with your talents is more appreciated. You appear to be well over eight inches so you meet the first criteria. You’re young... and strong... and have a propensity which is well suited to the local culture. A place called ‘Chessu’. I think you’ll like it there.”

Dr. Ann feels twinges within her loins. Yes, there comes moisture when thinking of Chessu. Not only does the culture to which Jay Blaine will soon be relegated bring stimulation, but the considerable emolument offered by the procurer Madam Soong as well.

Though a little older than most, at age 22 Jay Blaine will still fetch a goodly fee.

The Anguished E - Conclusion

This concludes 'The Anguished E'. Hopefully all enjoyed.

The story is harsh and violates many publishing standards but keep in mind it was originally written for the Eunuch Archive, the internet's largest repository for castration and nullification fiction. It should also be kept in mind that, by my estimation, a little over half the material posted there is gay, thus 'The Anguished E' is salted with male on male interaction.

I will be traveling over the next few days. Then perhaps a trip to Chessu?

Let me know your thoughts.

Epilogue II Tony

Epilogue II - Tony

I stand at the foot of Ms. Brandy’s four poster bed. My elbow rings are clipped together behind my back but for the first time in many months my ankle chain has been removed. I await Ms. Pat who speaks as I hear zippers and the rustle of clothing.

“This is a big day for you, Tony. You have a decision to make.”

Water is running in the adjoining bathroom. Ms. Brandy is taking a late afternoon shower and I am disheartened that she does not have me assisting her, as I have almost daily since we moved to the ranch some three years ago.

“Can you step up on the box for me?”

Ms. Pat always structures her commands politely. She speaks authoritatively and I know that I am to humbly step up on the box or I will find myself strapped to the whipping bench in the correction room. As I comply she moves into view. She is naked and normally when I am afforded a glimpse of her finely chiseled and well muscled form it is when she is buckling on her strap on harness and attaching a mammoth dildo.

With her nearness, my penis begins to engorge. Ms. Brandy has kept me chaste and except for the traumatic prostate massages by way of Ms. Pat’s strap on, I have not been relieved of my male essence in years. I prepare myself mentally for the pain of the infibulating wire. Ms. Pat moves to my side and watches with a smile as my glans attempts its escape. She reaches with her hand.

“It never stops trying, does it?” she observes in a mocking tone.

She holds wire cutters. Nurse Annika uses them for my Saturday morning inspection and cleansing. Otherwise the wire constantly keeps my prepuce tightly wrapped about my penis tip, making erection painfully impossible.

“You’re going to put on a nice stand for us?”

She coos as if addressing a young child. I look down to see a powerful right hand reach to my wire and snip it. Her left carefully pulls. The cut end of the wire can be sharp. Gratefully it slides out without scraping my most sensitive skin.

I am free! And Nurse Annika is not present to swat my rising phallus to detumescence.

“Oh, that’s very good Tony. I had forgotten how big a boy you were.”

I look down to see my neglected manhood rise. Incredibly, she snips again!

The gold ring that has circled my right gonad and served to separate and slowly stretch my scrotum falls free. Ms. Pat unhooks the decorative yet strong chains that connect the ring to my thigh band and to the back of my waist band.

She does the same with the ring around my left testicle. For the first time in years I feel nothing binding or entrapping my genitals. My penis celebrates with a stiffness I do not recall ever experiencing. Ms. Pat giggles.

“Brandy will be very pleased, Tony.”

My hands lurch. I am very much aware that my restrained elbows will not allow me to touch my penis, but the reaction is inveterate. I so much need to stroke myself.

Ms. Pat giggles again, leans over and blows on the incredibly sensitive tip. It waggles in response and she laughs.

“So sensitive. It’s worth the years of chastity just to watch it stand up and dance.”

She steps away with the gold chains, rings and the attached bells and jewelry. My eyes follow the naked form of a finely exercised body. No where near the size of Ms. Erma, Ms. Pat has the athleticism of a gymnast..., compact yet powerful. I cannot fault Ms. Brandy for partaking in her charms..., sleeping in each other’s arms..., delving into the world of Sapphos while I humbly lick and service between her rounded globes.

Ms. Pat returns with cords. She loosely ties my neck collar to the right bed poster then does the same to the left. With her proximity, her warm skin feels divine and visions of the many evenings when she painfully sodomized my rectum do not stop my arousal. She is a powerful woman whose physical strength projects impressive dominance.

“Just to make sure you don’t run off.”

Two more cords are connected to my thigh bands then tied to the bed posters right and left forcing apart my legs. Ms. Pat palms my low hanging scrotal sac, stretched over the years by the constant pressure of the gold chains. Just having it move about freely feels good, but her warm hand is exquisite. My erection twitches. My hips lurch attempting to frottage my stiffness against her skin.

“You are a randy one, Tony. Well we’re going to take care of that.”

My heart leaps. Surely I have been at long last freed to masturbate!

The sound of running water ceases. My beloved Ms. Brandy steps from the bathroom. She is also without clothing and having showered has her hair wrapped in a towel..., otherwise her entire amazingly alluring body is exposed to my gaze. Now in her mid twenties, her modeling career has diminished but her beauty has not. She has matured with an attractiveness that wonderfully transcends the cute girlish prettiness once desired by the agencies and clothing designers.

She is a woman. A dominant woman whose beauty sucks the oxygen from the room.

She looks at me standing on the makeshift pedestal some eight inches above the carpet. The purple tip of my penis seems to touch the ceiling. She smiles with a coy look of admiration, knowing that I am erect only because she has permitted my long entrapped penis to be freed. For many years the organ has been hers to control and she has so sternly exercised her authority.

“Happy to see me, Tony?”

She laughs with her purloined ‘Mae West’ line. Ms. Pat joins her.

“Well, you’re going to have a big decision to make this afternoon.”

She holds up strands of thin wire.

“Madam Chang’s recommended method for alteration. It seems in Chessu they don’t squander medical talent when it comes to a procedure as simple as castration.”

My ebullience sinks. But my penis stays erect despite the threatening tone and shocking words.

“Firmly around each nut..., just above where his rings were.”

Ms. Brandy hands the strands to Ms. Pat who accepts the simple but evil lengths with a look of Schadenfreude.

Each wire ends with a loop. As Ms. Pat slips one over my right gonad and tenderly pulls, the loop closes. A small slip knot has been carefully fabricated at the end. I do indeed detect the diabolism of Madam Chang.

“Make sure it encircles the nerves, sperm ducts and vessels, Pat.”

She complies by kneading my sac with thumb and forefinger, dutifully ensuring that the small loop is slightly pressing the suggested cords. When finished the free end of the wire is hitched to the bed post. She ties it with more tautness then the cords strung on my neck collar and thigh bands.

Ms. Brandy watches while vigorously drying her hair with the towel. Despite Ms. Pat’s menacing digits working about my precious organs I cannot help but stare with rapt fascination as Ms. Brandy’s perfectly formed breasts jiggle with the action of her hands.

Ms. Brandy steps forward and jogs the wire, testing its tension.

“Yes that should do it.”

She nods and Ms. Pat’s fingers gather up my left testicle and likewise loop the wire around it.

“It’s your twenty first birthday, Tony. And I have a gift for you..., the gift of freedom.., should you choose to accept it. To be freed of that nasty unfulfilled male need that has so driven you since puberty.”

I had forgotten my birthday. Days went uncounted at the ranch. The drudgery of maid service was only punctuated by being with Ms. Brandy, serving her with lips and tongue. The calendar has been meaningless.

Ms. Pat steps away but remains on my left side looking at my incredible stiffness. Ms. Brandy approaches and stands on my right. Her index finger reaches and gently diddles the underside of the moist and purple frenulum. I cannot before remember her ever actually touching me there. Again my heart jumps..., with arousal..., with desire..., with, as Ms. Brandy suggested, a male need that desperately needs to be fulfilled.

“For the first time you’re going to have a choice. I know you want to serve me. And I think you will better perform without these diverting your efforts.”

Her index finger caresses my testicles, separated widely through the years of being stretched apart within the sac by the gold rings pulled by the chains leading to the thigh bands..., now separated by the semi taut wires.

“So if you truly want to bring about my pleasure, you’ll forever forget about your own and concentrate on mine.”

She pauses and again diddles. I can feel fluid streaming from my urethra. My nose detects the wonderfully familiar scent of female arousal. Ms. Pat and Ms. Brandy look at each other with knowing glimpses. Normally such silent communication is followed by a session of sodomy with the strap on..., but not this afternoon.

Ms. Brandy moves to the bed and sits. My penis waggles for more of her touch. She laughs and positions herself facing me with her legs parted. Her perfect form seems to glow in the fading light of the setting sun. The fine pinkness of her genitalia flashes into view. I began to salivate. I want to taste her.

“All you have to do Tony is step off the box. There will be an instant of intense pain and then the loops of the wires will tighten and crush the nerves. The circulation will be cut off and within a couple of hours your testicles will be useless. No more nasty testosterone flowing and interfering with your naturally submissive psyche. You’ll serve better. You’ll almost be one of us.”

As if on cue, Ms. Pat joins Ms. Brandy on the bed, lowering her head to kiss the marvelous breasts for which I have forever pined to touch.

Ms. Brandy sighs with the pleasure of Ms. Pat’s lips. I know her unseen tongue flutters on nipples which beg for attention.

“Mom will later remove your balls before they wither and become gangrenous. I think I'll put them in formaldehyde, perhaps to use them as a paper weight. For the removal I will permit anesthesia. But this afternoon I want to see the full scope of your devotion...., just one step. Accept the moment of anguish for me. Then Pat will remove the box and you’ll entertain us with a divine and leisurely castration, the wires slowly depriving your organs of circulation. This evening we will celebrate.”

Ms. Pat’s head moves downward, kissing Ms. Brandy’s mons. Then her fingers tenderly open her labia to expose to my gaze more of the wondrously fine genitalia of the most beautiful woman I have ever known. She turns her head back to look at me as I struggle. I wince as the wires tighten ever so slightly with my motion. Both women smile wickedly with my reaction, knowing that my lust is uncontrollable. I need to feel the warmth of my Mistress, to taste her femininity. I want to be placed under a strap-on-wielding Ms. Pat, her powerful thighs thrusting while I service and give pleasure.

Ms. Pat settles down. Ms. Brandy lies back. The completely naked women become intertwined, beginning the sordid dance of Lesbos as I helplessly watch. Ms. Pat grinds her finely shaped thigh into Ms. Brandy’s sex bringing a moan of ecstasy.

It is evident that the planned slow strangulation of my reproductive organs will spur the lust of the beautiful women of governance. The naked daughters of Sapphos will bring each other to climax as my testicles struggle to remain functioning. And in the end, the struggle will be in vain..., deep within I want it to be in vain. Yes, my most coveted organs will serve as jarred mementos..., to bring wicked knowing smiles to regal women of superior strength, mental and physical, as such are displayed to me for amusement..., nothing more than reminders of a life of conflicted devotion.

“Just take the step, Tony. Then you may join us.”

Epilogue I Brandy

Epilogue I - Brandy

Over the years, Madam Soong became a regular visitor to the ranch..., and procurer of male flesh for Chessu, of course. With her preference for the ‘problem’ boys, business at The Anguished E became steadily profitable with minimal risk. If a boy remained truculent despite Erma’s stern hand, he found his penis shortened and his young body laboring in the desert sun firmly encased in a harness and his legs straining to pull the ox cart. If he succumbed, there were any number of girls seeking the companionship of a neutered youth with newly acquired manners and skill. Therefore even if Dr. Ann’s initial assessment was incorrect when a boy was chosen for training, the ranch could profitably dispose of all its candidates.

Jackie opened up a whole new market for me. I could find innumerable models seeking the unburdened gratification furnished by the subjugated and altered male. But Jackie passed the word among the actresses of Southern California. And I was shocked to find how many gorgeous and famous women, some absolute movie stars, who preferred the simple satiation offered by a submissive and sensuous tongue, rather than the gruff penetration induced by a testosterone laden phallus.

Weekends at the ranch became renowned among the beautiful women of California. There were so many models and actresses..., some serious buyers, others just wishing to relax and try their hand in the correction room. Or there were the more shy types who lounged about the pool. Initially watching, by Sunday most requested to sample the lips and tongue of a bound and blindfolded boy.

Eventually I built a separate hotel-like structure for our guests. We certainly had an ample number of candidates available to please and even if a girl was not interested in a purchase for long term companionship, there was no point in letting a boy wile away naked and hog tied when there was a need for his newly acquired talent for weekend frolicking.

The weekends were so enjoyable that even after Mom completed Hector’s alteration, Jackie came back from time to time for relaxation..., riding horses in the morning and lounging about the pool in the afternoon. Many of the inexperienced girls enjoyed walking Hector for her. It became an effective way to introduce a doubting young girl to the delights of the complete domination of the male.

Yes, Hector’s canine training was rather thorough, groveling about and responding to commands and tugs of his leash..., all of which proved to be very entertaining to the uninitiated feminine hand. But absolute control can be an addictive narcotic and I many times observed the most bashful of girls quickly turn into the most authoritative of vixens when they learned that Hector could not express objections to their most shamefully sordid commands and desires, neither physically nor vocally.

“What harm is there in having your feet licked,” I would innocently suggest for purposes of breaking the ice.

And since Hector only crawled, his mouth was proximate and ready to serve.
When Hector’s organs were deemed ripe, his penis growing to a sizable nine inches with impressive testicles swinging about as he crawled, Mom diligently performed the alteration preferred by Jackie. She first diverted the urethra, then slipped a somewhat firm length of rubber into the shaft, after which a quick suture at the tip made his penis permanently unusable for anything other than Jackie’s pleasure. She also filled the erectile chambers of his penis with oversized expandable cylinders, like small rubber balloons. The results provided great recreation, for with a few simple pushes, Jackie’s thumb could inflate the implants and make Hector stand, no matter the place or time. And it was always fun to pump until the large phallus pointed straight upwards appearing ready to burst. With a slight extra push to the pumps, implanted over Hector’s buttocks, Jackie could bring discomfort. It so nicely epitomized the ultimate in female dominance over the male. At her whim, she could actually induce an erection that brought ecstasy to her and agony to him..., for Jackie was known to ride for interminable periods while his overinflated penis ached. He could not expect the relief of flaccidity until Jackie pressed with her index finger, releasing the saline solution from the chambers. His essence basically leaked out his new opening without affording him any pleasure while Jackie thrashed up and down, bringing herself to orgasm after orgasm..., sanguine with the knowledge that Hector could neither impregnate her nor go limp.

As expected, Hector no longer experienced the joy of ejaculation. Instead his active testes and prostate made him constantly leak prostatic fluid and when Jack rode him like a bull, sitting atop his hips with her massive breasts enticingly flopping about, sperm oozed. Therefore when Jackie planned to have abundant sex she learned to adhere a Kotex to the area between the anus and scrotum, lest Hector’s semen dribble and make the most annoying stains.

Mom suggested that some quick snips could fix the problem but Jackie enjoyed watching his dangling gonads swing about as he crawled, Kotex in plain sight for the amusement of the less experienced girls.

But overall what made the more fledgling girls giggle, was when they walked Hector and he had to squat to pee. No longer was there a need for him turn up his leg to relieve himself. As stated, his new opening was at the perineum where Mom created a little hole. Therefore Hector had to widely part his thighs to go..., and the more astute girls knew to assist by removing the Kotex and pushing aside his hanging scrotal sac with either a tender hand or the tip of a correcting cane.

And the scenes at the movie sets where Jackie worked week after week must have been curiously entertaining. Jackie informed me that the gay stud actors were instantly envious of her leashed companion and at the end of the day, if there were no more ‘cum shots’ scheduled, many times one or more requested the comfort of Hector’s backside.

“I keep lubricant in my purse, Brandy. And you should hear him howl as he drips from his new opening like a leaky faucet. But your Mom suggested some type of prostate stimulation was needed so its actually beneficial. And it can be fun to watch two guys go at it.”

And yes, I castrated Tony. As described I came to covet the more sensuous tongue of the young castrated male. And it didn’t seem fair to allow him to remain intact while the other boys idly laid about awaiting their fate.

So I did it. But Mom’s scalpel seemed to be too simple a fate for the beautifully bejeweled balls I had watched grow since my teen years. Instead I took a page from Madam Soong’s book and made it quite the memorable occasion. Tony would have felt slighted had I altered him in any other manner. It was a night he will never forget.

I am very happy with the results. Though Pat still enjoys sodomizing him with the strap on, the ice bucket is no longer needed. And since I also had him circumcised, Annika no longer needs to clean his prepuce. As a result there is no need for any female to ever again touch his penis.

The results are the best cunnilingus imaginable. He so much focuses on my pleasure since his is no longer achievable.

Final Chapter

Number twenty seven is the final chapter, I should note. There will be epilogues from Brandy and Tony.

I can't remember where I came up with the name 'Chessu' for the Chinese province. A Google search seems to indicate the term is indigenous to Europe.

Overall, this was a relatively early effort (summer of 2002) and I find the writing style aloof, scenes and much character interaction not well developed, too swiftly moving from what could be much more provocatively presented senarios.

Offered this (the various D/s elements) as clay to be molded, I think today it would result in a work the size of the Collosus of Rhodes rather than a mantle piece for the living room, if I had time to finish it.

Perhaps we should take JHoltgym to Chessu...