Aunt Meredith dismounted to inspect, stooping over the vanquished prey.
“Look at the prepuce on this one,” Aunt Meredith exclaimed, tugging at the loose flesh of the penis tip.
I’m sure her gruff pinching of the sensitive skin was painful, yet the victim could not move. I watched in admiration and with concealed lustful enjoyment as the gomco clamp was produced and knowing fingers slipped the bell shaped cap over the penis tip then stretched the foreskin to cover the metal. I grimaced and doubted whether the young male could withstand the agony had he not suffered the indignity of having his buttocks injected with the powerful muscle relaxant. Aunt Meredith was insistent that as much foreskin as possible be plucked away. She considered it to be hers for the taking.
After so many circumcisions, Aunt Meredith slowly tightened the clamp and with much deliberation. There was no need to rush. And to make the male watch in helpless desperation added such a satisfying element of power and control.
As stated, Aunt Meredith relished performing high and tight circumcisions, leaving as little foreskin as possible and trimming the maximum amount of flesh for her collection.
“Watch his eyes as I slice, Ashley. Though he cannot move he feels every ounce of pain as I cut. Imagine the humiliation he’s experiencing... being trimmed by a woman! Can you feel the exchange of power?”
Aunt Meredith’s knife slowly incised the foreskin, pressing the blade into the skin to meet the metal bell beneath. She then circled the frenulum, finely trimming. And yes the lad’s eyes told me he was mentally overwhelmed with both the pain and the ignominy. Yet he could not move or speak.
I thought to myself... what will he be telling friends in the locker room about his altered penis? His girl friend?
“I can do this faster, Ashley. I’ve performed so many. But this is the essence of the hunt. Why rush?”
Such zeal in displaying her control. And I felt a twinge in my loins. Yes the Duval penchant was manifesting. I was intrigued with the notion that henceforth every time the lad masturbated or even simply washed his privates he would think of Aunt Meredith’s cruel hand, and perhaps also think of me, his humiliating exposure to a young pretty girl, observing with rapt curiosity as the male appendage is slowly altered.
The foreskin found its way into a jar. Hydrogen peroxide curtailed the bleeding. Betadine antisepticized the incision and a prominent bandage became the symbol of the male’s degrading defeat.
The dose of curare, an amazing drug, would wear off as Aunt Meredith clipped together the masturbation mittens and secured a lead line to her saddle.
“Feel anything, Ashley?” my smiling Aunt asked.
I demurred... for I did indeed experience vacillations between my thighs and was too shy to divulge my lustful reaction.
“I’ve got another challenge being flown in next week, Ashley. His second visit. Trimmed him two years ago and he’s insisting on another go. That means he’ll be a little more cagey than the likes of this one. And the wager will be more substantial. You’ll join me?”
I nodded, trying to disguise my enthusiasm.
“You’ll find there’s a tendency for the male beast to try to make money in a manner they perceive as easy, Ashley... gambling, lying, cheating, stealing. Do anything but work.
“As you can see, I make them earn it.”
The prey began to stir. Aunt Meredith mounted her horse and gestured for me to do the same.
“Some get a little ornery in losing their penis tip. Best to keep tension on the line.”
So our vanquished prey was led, somewhat dragged back to the plantation house. There his cage awaited, sitting near the front steps where the islanders could gawk and taunt while the incision healed. In a few days, when the jet returned to transport a new challenge, an imposing Big Sam would ensure that the newly circumcised prey docilely went on his way, with a year of free tuition, room and board to console his defeat.
“You’re going to need this. I didn’t leave much skin for you to play with,” a smirking Aunt Meredith lectured the departing vanquished prey as the jet rolled to a stop.
She reached down from the saddle to hand the lad a tube of lubricant. She knew his masturbation habits would need to change. And for the rest of his life, with each stroke of his stiff shaft, he would remember the horror of watching immobile while a woman slowly trimmed away his precious foreskin. And the agony...
Harold cries out anew and begins to shake with the emotional trauma of trying to subside what the anatomy of the forcibly chaste male is so wont to do, tumefy. Yet Mary has his prostate draining like an unplugged sink. And Corky’s tongue comically dabs away, adding to the unwanted pleasure that Harold desperately tries to avoid.
Chapter Twenty Nine - Miss Ashley Duval
Pam steps forward with a beach towel, tenderly dabbing away Harold’s tears as the callous Mary mechanically continues to milk without pity. He manages to keep his penis semi flaccid within the confines of the Lori’s Tube and Kali’s Teeth Bracelet, yet there seems to be enough engorgement to offset the ephemeral pleasure of the hormonal release with intermittent pangs of pain. So he begs and pleads adding an amusing element to the exhibition of female control.
In looking into Mary’s blank face, one of dispassionate focus on the process at hand, I can envision her working young males to exhaustion then informing her special charges, those with whom she established parental authority, that a late afternoon of ‘necessary therapy’ has been scheduled. Yes, such conditioned athletes would certainly slumber deeply having been well worked by Mary and then relieved of building semen by a penetrating gloved hand.
No meaningless masturbation for those lads. Their energy would be expended for Mary.
Mary has Corky withdraw his tongue from the end of Harold’s tube. She studies the waning flow of viscous fluid and declares that Harold is finally drained. Exhausted, Pam graciously permits him to sleep face down without the sun heating his chastity trinkets. As with the copilot, Harold will feel an odd satiation, nowhere near the level experienced by the male beast after a night of steamy copulation. Instead there will come a sense of ennui in not attaining the pleasure of climactic relief. There has been no climax, only the forced draining of what the male normally so proudly enjoys ejaculating into soft warm and tight female flesh.
And to add to Harold’s degradation, he has been so relieved of his essence before a group of observing females, the timing and duration of which has been completely at the hands of a woman.
So he will sleep in great humility as my little gathering sips the delightful rum drinks... Dr. Helga, Dr. Stella, Mary, Pam, my pilot, me. And there’s Reggie casually lying to my side, remaining silent and obedient like the boy toy he is. He will not be milked. He’s the stud bull we all enjoy watching erupt.
Corky is next, yet there seems to be a desire for a respite. So we talk.
“So when’s the last time you rode horses here, Ashley?” Dr. Stella inquires.
She again spurs memories.
“About ten years ago. Before my senior year in college...”
My mind flashes back. Yes it may not have been my very last ride, but it was the last ride I remember with specificity.
The arriving jet, the one that would transport the recently circumcised conquest back to society, he who Aunt Meredith supplied with unguent to precipitate future masturbation, brought more ‘prey’ as Aunt Meredith whimsically referred to her male adversaries. We sat astride two of Aunt Meredith’s massive stallions as the engines of the jet quieted and the cabin door opened.
“Cut this one two years ago, Ashley. He had a foreskin, which now highlights my collection. And he’s so large that the dose of curare was insufficient enough to completely subdue him. He was able to squirm a little when my blade began to cut. It was most entertaining. His name’s Chip. Graduated from college, after earning a year’s tuition, room and board here on the island. But apparently he says he’s not happy with his job. Seems he’d like to make another wager and re
tire.”
Aunt Meredith laughed sardonically.
“Always remember Ashley, the male would rather gamble, lie, cheat and steal rather than put in a day’s work. Well, I believe we’ll soon have Chip developing a new work ethic.”
From the cabin door stepped an enormous male in his mid twenties. He was handsome, well built and moved with some level of self assurance. But I could tell there was a degree of trepidation in returning to the island. I often wondered how it felt to leave part of your anatomy behind, particularly a most sensitive part, which the male is given to toy with to excess at an early age.
The look on his face was a combination of concern and determination. Yet there was also projected a pathos... as if Chip had mentally entered into a moment of silence for the precious strip of flesh which was so ignominiously ravaged from his manhood.
“You know the rules, Chip. Submission until I deem you ready for the hunt.”
Chip humbly disrobes. There is no doubt that Aunt Meredith is in charge and that all comply with her strict rule of nakedness.
“My bankers received your wire instructions. Should you prevail the million dollars will be sent within a day of your release.”
The amount was a shock to me. But for Aunt Meredith a pittance. Yet my attention was drawn to the flaccid manhood that hung close to Chip’s knees. I could only imagine the delight my aunt felt in trimming such a specimen!
Aunt Meredith reached into her saddle bags and tossed wrist and ankle restraints to the docile naked giant. Chip knew to pick up the implements and voluntarily encircle his limbs.
“When’s the last time you masturbated?” my aunt brashly inquired.
“Over a week ago. It’s been difficult since you... since you... since the hunt two years ago.”
“You mean since a woman chose to snip that pogo stick of yours,” Aunt Meredith laughingly sneered. “So that’s affected your ability to get yourself off, hmm. Some lads have reported nocturnal emissions while dreaming about my knife cutting away what they so much enjoyed toying with.
“So are you sure it wasn’t a wet dream, Chip? In your sleep imaging that devilish hand of yours sliding that missing foreskin up and down during some late night reverie? Yes, I know you’ve been to see a counselor concerning your impotence.”
Aunt Meredith cackles, enjoying Chip’s sheepish silence in exposing his lie. She knew her cruel circumcision had made the otherwise virile Chip sexually useless to the opposite sex. Her investigators were thorough and were able to determine that the trauma of her knife rendered him impotent for all dalliances other than those self induced in dreams. Those when he was able to ejaculate in his sleep while his mind relived the fateful day when my authoritative aunt altered his most coveted male anatomy.
Well... such irony. I thought. It is now Aunt Meredith who covets that which he lost in such a painful catharsis.
“Cage him!” I recall Aunt Meredith’s final decree before she spurred her horse. Big Sam and Lotta clipped his wrist cuffs behind his back and attached a hobbling chain from ankle to ankle.
I had to stay a moment and watch as Chip was led to the preparation room. Just watching that flaccid shaft swing about mesmerized a girl of my age. When he stepped passed me, ending the display of his size, I rode off to join Aunt Meredith on a brisk ride before lunch.
Miranda arrives with a second round of pina coladas.
“Corky’s next,” an eager Pam exclaims, the cooling drinks seeming to also refresh our lustful voyeurism.
Chapter Thirty - Miss Ashley Duval
Mary unhooks the short chain connecting Corky’s scrotal band to his tail insertion. She knows that we sexually charged women want to observe the male essence drip to the sand as her penetrating fingers knead the neglected prostate gland. Removing the chain clears any impediment from Dr. Helga’s urethral opening.
After two fingers plunge well into his anus, the dour girl smiles.
“Oh this one’s swollen to excess,” the physical trainer announces in holding our interest. “He’s going to gush.”
Yes, I suppose I should have Corky drained more often. One should endeavor to keep one’s pets healthy.
I lie back and relax. My mind returns to what I think of as the last summer of my youth with Aunt Meredith offering such domineering tutelage.
Chip was caged, a procedure with which he was familiar as a result of his circumcision two summers before. Lotta placed him in masturbation mittens, though with his odd impotence such were probably unnecessary. I made excuses to visit the preparation room, satisfying my girlish curiosity in observing up close the largest penis I had ever seen at the time.
In being naked and caged, Chip was shy. He didn’t talk. So I recall sitting and watching while talking to Lotta who tended him. She was shaving his pubes, her knowing hand slipping through the bars and wielding a straight razor. The conversation flowed as if we were discussing a trapped animal, speaking as if he could not understand our words.
“What will become of him, Lotta,” I inquired staring at that manhood, the flaccid yet bulbous head so well displayed as a result of Aunt Meredith’s slowly incising knife.
“We’ll let his hormone level build. We’re constantly monitoring to ensure there are no wet dreams. I’m spiking his food with testosterone. When deemed ready in a few days, your aunt will have Big Sam move the cage outside. I’ll bring him up to a nice full stand, oil his rectum and when the cage door is opened he’ll dash out like frightened deer and the hunt will begin.”
I envisioned an animal being fattened for slaughter, Chip’s randiness being nurtured like a new born infant.
“But what’s the wager? Aunt Meredith already has his foreskin,” I naively inquire.
Lotta softly laughs.
“Suffice it to say, if captured, his problem with wet dreams will end. And if he prevails, manages to elude your aunt for twenty four hours, he’ll have enough money for a lifetime of counseling. For the likes of Chip it’s not a bad bet.”
On the third or fourth morning of Chip’s incarceration, Aunt Meredith stopped into the preparation room while I once again surveyed the naked captive. She noticed my fixation with the large but useless appendage. It was interesting to see Chip cower in discomfort with her presence.
“Yes, it’s big, Ashley. But only serves to drain his bladder and not much else. If you’d like to see it in full blossom I can have Lotta oblige.”
I nodded with moderation, disguising my enthusiasm. But there was insatiable curiosity and a girlish concupiscence that made my heart leap with Aunt Meredith’s suggestion.
A smiling Lotta joined us, her left hand holding a bottle of lubricant.
“I thought it didn’t work,” my naiveté showing.
“Oh, Ashley, I think Chippie boy will accommodate the woman who introduced him to impotence, who trimmed away all that excess flesh. You have to understand the subordinate psyche.”
Aunt Meredith reached into the cage and pinched Chip’s face. I noticed he was shaking.
“You’ll be a good boy for my niece, won’t you, Chip? You’d like to show off for her? You want to please me, don’t you?”
Incredibly, with the firm intonation of Aunt Meredith’s questions, Chip’s penis stirred.
“Slide toward the bars, Chip. Lotta has something for you,” the island woman cooed as if offering a treat to a young child.
It was not the first time I observed a domineering woman manipulate the penis of a subservient male. But it was one of the most interesting. Our Chip seemed to realize that the solution to his impotence was being in the presence of the woman who manifested the condition and to perform for her. So Chip better positioned himself to receive Lotta’s touch and a regal Aunt Meredith stood arms akimbo while Lotta pushed her hand through the bars and mechanically began to masturbate this huge shaft.
“You see his reaction, Ashley? Responding so obsequiously to what he perceives to be a superior. He knows his sex life is dysfunctional except when in my presence. And in a f
ew days it will become even more dependent on my whim and desires.”
I watched in awe as Chip’s penis grew and grew. So large, yet so dependent on the dominant woman to sexually function. Aunt Meredith’s trimming hand had removed flesh but instilled a psychological dependence... and she seemed so sanguine with her governance.
Lotta sensed full tumescence and withdrew her hand, leaving Chip incredibly stiff and sitting before three women with no possible relief. My eyes turned to saucers. Aunt Meredith just gazed with a smug look of superiority. Lotta, appearing to stroke the organ of the subjugated male as a routine function, merely stepped away to stow the lubricant.
“He’ll be ready for Saturday’s hunt. You’ll enjoy this one, Ashley. There will be more challenge for both Chip and me.”
Thereafter, something changed in Chip’s sexual makeup. He began to tumefy during my visits, the arousing effect of Aunt Meredith’s dominant aura seeming to inure to me. Again, I began to contemplate the age old proclivity of the Duval women... unbridled governance over the hapless male. And I furtively teased, wearing scanty bathing suits, moving about to assure Chip could assess all my nubile charms. By week’s end I verbally taunted, knowing that the strong bars of the cage precluded any vengeful harm. After dinner on Friday, I sneaked into the preparation room, retrieved a riding crop from the wall and pulled a chair next to the cage. Chip docilely sat while I pressed a finger to my lips to indicate quiet then reached in and diddled the enormous penis with the end of the crop. He was already beginning to firm with my presence.
“I’m going to enjoy watching this flop about when you’re run tomorrow,” I whispered. “What will you offer Aunt Meredith when you’re caught?”
Chip did not answer but began to tremble. Was it my touch or thoughts of Aunt Meredith?
Saturday morning Aunt Meredith and I conversed over breakfast. She was calm. I was giddy knowing that Chip and cage were being moved to the area of the front porch as we ate a sumptuous breakfast of eggs benedict.
“Eat well, Ashley. Chip knows the island, is familiar with some of my tactics and has good reason to elude me with earnestness. We may be on horseback for most of the day.”
The Chris Bellows' Collection Page 28