The Chris Bellows' Collection

by Chris Bellows

  “A little incision here and here, and then with some quick snips, and Peetie’s fixed. No more soiled boots.”

  Such a disheartening look on Peetie’s face...to be castrated and then forced to so humiliatingly display himself before his castratrix and the feminine world.

  “And for good measure I had the penis modified as you can see. Peetie goes on all fours now, just like a real doggie.”

  Annette laughs most heartily and I find myself joining her. And Peetie just looks at me with such a saturnine look...one of mourning for an ostensibly tragic loss.

  But I am amazed to see his penis shaft swell. Since I stand nearly naked, it is a reaction expected from a normal male, but Peetie is no longer normal. And when Annette notices, her hand glides to the constrained length and begins massaging and stroking. Peetie just looks up with such a peculiar look of frustration tinged with admiration for my feminine charms.

  “Want to ejaculate on my boots, Peetie? Come on, get it nice and hard for me. Show Chloe what’s left of your manhood. Let’s see you squirt that gooey stuff now.”

  More laughter as the penis tip turns from pink to red to purple. There is a degree of firmness but it is useless in satiating all normal male desires. Peetie’s organ has been left in place merely to amuse, and Annette is indeed quite entertained.

  Annette’s knowing fingers caress the empty scrotal sac and teasingly diddle the engorged penis tip, appearing as a knob attached just under Peetie’s navel. His hips gyrate as the frustration builds, Peetie emulating the motion of copulation. He closes his eyes with shame. I cannot help stooping to assist. Though the male gender is of no interest to me, scenes of Annette’s sexual power stimulate, and I am sure my feminine fragrance can be detected. So I shuffle close to Peetie and take both nipples between thumbs and forefingers. I roll gently and knead adding to the faint but insatiable pleasure of the castrated male. I know he can detect my odoriferous scent.

  Peetie will never again experience climactic release, yet Annette will provide a lifetime of close encounters just to torment the poor brute.

  As we toy, Judy guides Willie from the examination table and brings him more proximate to where Peetie helplessly lies as two domineering women torment him with soft hands and fingers. Willie watches in both horror and fascination, his vantage point providing quite the view of Peetie’s upturned backside, perineum and loose sac, which Annette knows to contain a myriad of nerve endings. Willie begins to fidget and I know the trembling head and quaking hips to be in reaction to the extreme pain. The scene is too much; perhaps observing another male...or former male...being sexually stimulated brings arousal; perhaps it is my nearly naked feminine pulchritude, or perhaps the realization that our control and power over the male beast is consummate.

  Whatever, Willie’s willie needs release. And since I enjoy its celebratory presentation as much as he does, I move and take his leash from Judy.

  “Up,” I command with a tug.

  Willie instantly obeys, moving to stand on hind legs as I assist by holding the leash firmly. With my free hand I reach down and slowly slide out the infibulating nail.

  Willie will amuse me for the remainder of the afternoon, for I have neither abated his daily dose of Cialis nor his hormones and I know he will put on a nice stand for us until day’s end.

  It’s really very entertaining, and his organ rapidly swells as if someone was inflating a balloon. Willie’s penis steadily rises to greet the trio of women.

  Peetie raptly looks on. I wonder if he is envious.

  Chapter Fifty

  Annette Benson

  Such a wonderfully decadent scene.

  Two naked and leashed males...one permanently altered, the other with his male appendage very much under feminine control.

  Peetie begins to ooze prostatic fluid, a phenomenon of which I was informed at the Instituto.

  “If it becomes a problem, we can easily remove the gland,” the counseling doctor advised in our last therapy session.

  Peetie looked at me in a panic and I just smiled, informing the doctor that I would consider removing the useless male gland only if Peetie became fractious. It’s a sword I hold over him, knowing that the obscure pleasure of anal penetration and resulting prostatic massage is his last vestige of sexual enjoyment.

  So I curtail my massage knowing that with the flow of fluid, Peetie’s limited sense of fulfillment has been attained.

  Besides, with Willie freed of his infibulating nail, there are other things to do.

  Lenore finally steps from the house and I know she will want Chloe. So I take Willie’s leash as Judy bids adieu and Chloe skips like a child to greet her Sapphic companion.

  I pick Peetie up and place him on all fours. Now I have both leashes, and walking the naked males makes me so hot that juices flow like a river, wetting my bathing costume. Peetie bows his head and begins to lick my boots. Willie just looks up in awe, seeming to be confused over which feminine form to ogle...me or the nearly naked Chloe.

  Lenore seems particularly randy this afternoon, calling out greetings but otherwise tending to her petite blond companion. She so much enjoys the sight of the female form that she immediately slips the simple knots holding on Chloe’s brief bathing attire and tosses aside the collection of patches to leave the girl devoid of all covering.

  Willie strains against his leash, struggling for a better view of the beautiful petite blonde. But it is I who am in control. I pull away and turn his head in the opposite direction. Chloe’s nakedness is for Lenore.

  “Come,” I command. And the walk begins.

  For a relative beginner, Willie is rather deft in his bindings and of course Peetie has had years of practice. So it’s around and around the pool with me occasionally issuing the standard canine commands of ‘heel’, ‘sit’, ‘stay’.

  The frisky Willie attempts to steal glances as Lenore places Chloe supine on a lounge chair and straddles her head. Lenore is wearing her usual outfit for such activities: a short skirt sans undergarments, otherwise known as her cunnilingus attire. Thus I know Chloe’s tongue to be dancing about between Lenore’s thighs as she returns the affection by opening Chloe’s love pot and slowly caressing the hungry pink flesh with her fingers.

  That may be great for them, but I prefer the male tongue...the subservient male tongue. And whereas normally in wielding my power a certain need is developing, walking the two males has my attention for now.

  But as we circle the yard I realize there can be more diverting escapades with two bound and obedient males. The natural homophobia can be most entertaining to observe and so I decide that a corner of the yard, opposite the pool from Lenore and Chloe, is an appropriate place to properly introduce Willie and Peetie.

  Chapter Fifty One

  Willie

  The blond Amazon is relentless. I must rapidly move knees and elbows to push about the dog legs in order to keep pace with her long stride. When she pulls on the leash to admonish or shift directions, it feels as if my nipple harness will slice my areolas in half.

  And the ridiculous Peetie not only follows her lead to precision, he seems able to anticipate Officer Benson’s every whim and revels in her cruelly offered guidance.

  Meanwhile the gorgeous Miss Chloe is in complete dishabille beneath Miss Lenore. But when I turn my head for the slightest glimpse, an exacting hand jerks my chain with noted authority. Yet I can feel my freed penis waggle, so randy that the tip brushes my lower belly.

  Seeming to tire of the forced exercise, we are led to the far corner of the yard. Officer Benson assures that I am facing away from my succubus, the divine Miss Chloe. She lifts to bring me off my front paws and stands to my side. As always, the pose serves to fully exhibit my standing manhood.

  “Look what Willie has, Peetie,” she exclaims with mocked enthusiasm. I am dismayed to look down where she palms my scrotal sac with the hand holding Peetie’s leash. My plump gonads dangle freely, Miss Judy having dispensed with my tail and anal plug assembly, and se
em overly ripe; my sac seemingly burdened with the buildup of male juices which have so accumulated over the weeks of chastity.

  Peetie appears equally distressed, having the woman who castrated him so callously taunt. But his look is quickly transformed as the hand releases my balls and tugs his leash, cruelly sending a signal of pain and compliance to Peetie’s nose binding.

  “Come. Give Willie a sense of that exquisite, long tongue.”

  Peetie follows the guiding hand, of course. His face nears, his dog legs propping up his head to the height of my pubes.

  “See what Willie tastes like. Come on..., be a good doggie.”

  I shudder to see a broad and wet expanse of pink thrust forth from Peetie’s lips. A hideously long appendage juts from the poodle lips and begins to lick. Officer Benson laughs. With her hand holding me up at the juncture of leash and nipple harness she can feel my fruitless efforts to resist the ignominy of being orally titillated by a male...or former male.

  “See, Willie, he covets what you have and he doesn’t …ever since he was snipped, his oral caresses have been ever so tender, so sensuous. It’s as if he can feel your pleasure and enjoys sexual sensation vicariously.

  “Don’t touch the penis, Peetie. That’s for another time.”

  I glance down to see viscous fluid streaming from my urethral opening and flowing down my rock-hard shaft. When it reaches my sac, which Peetie is orally cherishing, the surreal tongue scoops it from my smooth and hairless skin, seeming to savor my essence as one would savor a fine wine.

  “He’d really like to taste your sperm, Willie. Peetie’s been well-trained; he now lives for the pleasure of others.”

  My homophobia rages, but Officer Benson keeps a powerful grip on my leash and nipple harness. I cannot move to avoid the oral assault as the devious woman stands and mirthfully watches Peetie lick and lick and lick.

  Meanwhile I hear girlish squeals of delight as Miss Lenore’s fingers have evidently brought Miss Chloe to the first of many orgasms.

  And I must stand naked and bound and watch this neutered beast teasingly lap away.

  “So the pups are getting along.” It is the laughing voice of Miss Judy. Most likely having observed the debacle from her window, she returns. And she has her camera.

  “I’ll have a special place in Willie’s album for these shots,” Miss Judy declares as the shutter clicks.

  The woman who so caringly tends to me each morning can be so cruel. Miss Judy takes her time, assuring that Peetie’s oral offering is well documented and from any number of angles. Though Officer Benson’s face is carefully kept from each frame, her controlling hands on the leashes and her smooth muscular, yet thoroughly female, thighs appear in every snapshot. Click after click.

  Then, satisfied with the dozen or so close-ups of Peetie’s tantalizing tongue swathing over my hairless scrotum and pulsing prick, Miss Judy suggests that Officer Benson have us pose together.

  And so the photo shoot ends with Peetie and me standing on hind legs with Officer Benson behind holding us upright. With the camera positioned so that our pubes areas are centered, the viewer is left with a shocking view of Peetie’s condition, and my enormous erection straining toward my stomach. The pictures will portray a curious sequence of homoerotic affection, supervised by an unseen woman.

  Miss Judy’s album will leave no doubt that my dutifully recorded oral service was provided by something other than a female. I detect a plot which smacks of more blackmail.

  “You’ll find that Willie can become very attentive to a woman’s needs while wearing this.” Before retreating, Miss Judy tosses to Officer Benson the rubber hood I have frequently worn while servicing her and when Miss Lenore and Miss Chloe embrace and amuse by teasing me.

  Chapter Fifty Two

  Annette Benson

  Ooooh, what a wonderful idea…a blindfolded Willie pleasuring a woman while being denied the visual delight of her charms.

  With Lenore and Chloe in deep Sapphic embrace, and having aroused myself in walking about my two naked canines, it is time for my pleasure. And if there is one thing that abundantly flows in Lenore and Chloe’s yard it is carnal delectation.

  So I slip the rubber hood over Willie’s head and must smile as he sinks into an even more docile mode. Then I join Chloe in tossing aside my bathing attire, leaving nothing but my knee-high soft leather boots.

  Peetie’s eyes look as if they will bug out of his head as he crawls forth to pay homage.

  “Yes, such a good little poodle,” I encourage as that altered tongue now demonstrates its zest by applying long and broad laps to my outer labia and clitoral hood. But as he points the tip to attempt penetration I coyly resist.

  “No, Peetie, come, over here.”

  Some years back Lenore received a special chair for her birthday and just looking at it makes the juices flow. A type of stool really, the clever device has no top, only two angled parallel surfaces some eighteen inches apart, designed to most comfortably hold open the inner thighs of the occupant. Below there is nothing, but the device is designed so that the vacant space may be occupied by the head of an oral servant. On this Saturday afternoon there are two heads. And so I lead my leashed charges to the peculiar furniture.

  Willie saunters so slowly in being blinded and Peetie proudly prances, licking his lips of what little of my essence his tongue harvested.

  “Come, I have a special task for you two.” I cavalierly suggest.

  I turn the stool so that I face Lenore and Chloe, their passionate exchange still ongoing. Then I straddle the two padded surfaces and lower myself until I am almost kneeling. When I spread my legs widely, I feel the coolness of air against my outer labia petals. Peetie utters comically slurred words of excitement as I expose my sexual center to his eyes. His eager lips open and approach.

  It takes little effort to guide the leash, pulling him close so that his nose presses the top of my mons and that slithering tongue begins to penetrate like an exploring snake. Peetie knows me so well. And he does such a superb job of it that sometimes I have him sleep with his head between my thighs.

  And as for Willie? Well I have a special treat for him as I tug his leash until his little dog legs are positioned behind me.

  Yes, for a woman of Dominance there can be no headier sensation than receiving forced analingus from the subservient male. And with Peetie tending to my more conventional needs, I kneel on the wonderfully designed stool. Peetie’s head is between me and the angled padded surface to the front; Willie’s head similarly positioned between the surfaces to the rear. By holding firmly to the leashes they are trapped. And though Peetie licks with abandon, Willie’s more pungent task requires encouraging pulls on his nipple harness.

  So I revel in my pleasure as I watch Lenore’s fingers manipulate Chloe’s swollen, well-loved sex to squirt one more spray of passion.

  “Deeper, Willie,” I must admonish with a pull.

  Their tongues will sometimes meet as both my subjugated canines rival to capture my essence. Peetie is most accomplished, but Willie has potential, and the angle of the sun suggests that enough time remains in the afternoon to explore his latent, untapped talents.

  Chapter Fifty Three

  Willie

  So many lecherous weekend afternoons by the pool. So much ice.

  With my freed penis pointing skyward, only a bucket of freezing slush will bring it down to a state of flaccidity. I hate it that every cherished moment of freedom for my neglected organ is followed by immersion into a bucket of coldness. There, penis and testicles numb and shrink until Miss Chloe’s dainty fingers can gather my loose foreskin and return the bent brass nail to lock my poor penis back in place.

  Increasing humidity and the hours of the setting sun tell me that the summer is waning. September approaches. Recently Miss Lenore has taken to reading aloud from a book on marine biology as she straddles the divine face of a naked Miss Chloe.

  I listen, hooded, with my freed penis providing amusing divers
ion as it obediently points upwards. Typically I am placed so close that the scent of feminine arousal pervades my nostrils.

  Between sighs of passion, Miss Lenore reads from textbooks so that when I return home for Labor Day, I will have a smattering of expected biological knowledge, enough to maintain the summer’s subterfuge.

  “We’ll have one last party for you, Willie. I’m inviting all the girls and perhaps this time you’ll be free of your canine costume. Annette will be bringing Peetie for that aspect of entertainment. You’ll be providing other amusement.”

  I wonder if I dare fantasize about what amusements that might be!

  Miss Lenore is so nonchalant concerning affairs and settings which otherwise place me in utter consternation. But I remind myself that with Miss Judy’s burgeoning photo album I really have no choice.

  I am kept.

  Chapter Fifty Four

  Lenore

  I have so much enjoyed Willie’s stay. Little does he realize that in empowering Chloe... providing her with a pet to care for in satisfying certain maternal urges, and imbuing her with a degree of control, of which she has so little in our Sapphic relationship...my little blond lover has been more orgasmic and eager to please than ever.

  So, in gratitude I feel a going away party for Willie is in order. And though male gratification is never included in our order of priorities, what more suitable undertaking to add to the festivities then to finally allow Willie to spew the summer’s build up of sperm.

  The Friday night before Labor Day is a likely date. Afterwards Willie can return home to Chillicothe, ostensibly to announce the completion of his Caribbean biology course, and prepare and pack for the upcoming semester.

  Judy has suggested that without the infibulating nail, the openings in his pierced penis will heal over. And but for some mental scars, his summer sojourn will soon be forgotten once he delves into his studies. Meanwhile our canine companion is nicely tanned, well exercised with frequent swims, and with Alpo as his staple, kept in excellent shape, though a mischievous Chloe has occasionally tossed table scraps into his bowl.