I look to once again apprize Devon’s handiwork. After insemination, the branding iron finally deemed more than adequately heated, Sandy remained hanging upside down, some weight supported in my lap. Yes, a slab of beef... to be inspected then branded... ‘prime’ would be my assessment.
For Devon the cruel application of the white hot iron was rote, carefully twisting to assure that when upright, the scripted ‘D’ signifying the Devon ranch would be prominently displayed at the apex of the left buttock, just below the heavy deeply implanted buttock ring which serves to facilitate sodomy. Sandy screamed of course. Devon laughed, Mr. Haig smiled. Little Mr. Haig twitched.
Then Sandy fainted, truncating the enjoyment.
“Well, I’ll not have her miss the branding of the right cheek,” Devon reaching to the partially melted bucket of ice used to chill the cunt ring.
Yes, while the branding iron reheated, ice brought around a comatose Sandy, assuring that not a moment of agony would be missed.
“Heart warming to know the boys volunteered to make the trip. You’ve been missed, Sandy.”
Devon steps from the kitchen. I spurt copiously and hear the comforting gulp as Sandy once again feeds herself on male essence, ingesting so meekly. Manners demand that I withdraw and zip up, though Sandy’s tongue flutters a bit in mandated clean up.
“You’ll let us know as to her progress, will you, Devon? Sandy’s become a bit of a pet for our little group. Quite the supple rectum. And deep within so eager to please.”
“Sure. And stop in the ranch sometime. If you’ve never milked a girl, slowly extracted her fluids, it’s quite the soothing deed. A gracious exchange of power, forcing a girl to give up her essence. Keeps ‘em humble... and in time eager to give up more. That dairy hand I hired says he can bring her to give up a pint a day... each breast. We’ve got a pool going. The boys are already using lots of hand lotion... soften those grizzly fingers... see who can milk her the best,” more boisterous laughter.
“What do you think, Sandy? Ready to let down for the ranch hands? I bet you’re wet just thinking about it,” I teasingly inquire.
Don’t take the wager Sandy, I think to myself. You’re sopping. We know you... know your ilk... your penchant... your need for subjugation.
“Yes, butt fucked while forced to lactate... I don’t think you’ll miss New York at all.”
And with hands remaining encased in iron, she will need the gruff fingers of the ranch hands, swelled mammary glands throbbing in eagerness.
Mr. Haig is already planning a journey.
Comments, criticisms and feedback are welcomed. [email protected]
Other books by Chris Bellows
(available at Pink Flamingo’s new site (http://www.eroticbooknetwork.com)
A Gift From James
A Sadist's Story
A Woman's Servant
A Woman's Servant 2
About Eve, A Femdom Novel
An Interview With Mrs. Carlotta Fenwick
Becoming Miss Ashley's Pet
Behavioral Modification: Lessons From Constancia Island
Collared & Leashed
Constancia Island, A Femdom Novel
Feminine Governance
Feminizing The Belligerent Male
Lady Constance, A Femdom Novel
Laura Davidson, Keeper of Men
Lessons In Discipline and Servitude
Milking Male Essence
Miss Elizabeth's Captive
Naked Rendition
Of Male Chastity
Penance Corporation of America
Penance Corporation of America III: Forced To Serve
Prince Imay's Palace
Ship of Remorse
Suspension Bondage, A BDSM Novel
Tagged
Tales From The Estate
Taming the Virile Male
The Blacksmith's Daughter
The Chris Bellows' Collection
The Conquerable, A Femdom Novel
The Constancia Compendium
The Decision, A Femdom Novel
The Entrapped
The Gimp
The Humbled
The Incarceration of Jennifer
The Interrogator
The Last Pony Girl
The Male Concubine
The Party Boy
The Predator
The Supplication of the Male Pig
About the Author
Chris Bellows, a nom de plume, is single and on the north side of middle age. He lives an astonishingly ascetic life in the New York metropolitan area.
After a lifetime of reading erotica, Chris began to write some ten or more years ago when he found the quality of the store bought material which he formerly enjoyed reading had deteriorated into ‘mush’. With fervent fingers and well worn keyboard, his hard drive filled, yet his early efforts did not initially meet his own standards. He continuously honed and polished until finally, with the completion of ‘Lady Constance’, he produced a work which he deemed worthy of publishing.
Pink Flamingo had the best author’s guidelines and after submission and acceptance in January 2001, Lady Constance was published and the relationship has continued to the present day. Most of Chris’s work can be found on Pink Flamingo new site www.eroticbooknetwork.com.
Other offerings maybe found at www.lulu.com.
Writing erotica..., strong, unbridled, always attempting to push the bounds of ‘conventional’ D/s..., has become a daily passion for Chris. He endeavors to make his story lines unique, avoids vulgarity, abhors the sophomoric onomatopoeia of flagellation stories, and constantly seeks to ‘work outside the box’.
Chris writes in many different genres, salting female dominant themes with male dominance and vice versus. He writes credibly from many viewpoints including ‘first person female’. He avoids duplicating themes and attempts to introduce new forms and methods of manifesting sexual power exchange with each story, a trait which has become an unwritten warranty to his readers.
There is no prepackaged format for Chris’s work product, and he has turned down offers from other publishers when such have sought to trim his efforts in order to more suitably conform his writings to their envisioned ‘box’ of erotic offerings.
The results speak notably..., readers with an interest in D/s who will be surprised, enlightened and entertained with each unique plot and storyline.
Chris enjoys reading and responding to readers comments. Visit his blog, http://chrisbellows.blogspot.com. He can be contacted at [email protected].
For a complete catalogue of Erotic Fiction…
write, email or call:
Pink Flamingo Publications
P.O. Box 632, Richland, MI 49083, 1-877-629-0051
E-mail: [email protected]
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Dr. Winthrop Samuels Series Page 30