The Constancia Compendium

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The Constancia Compendium Page 15

by Chris Bellows


  “Removed the foreskin myself. It provides for better hygiene with the long periods in the tube. And of course I enjoyed snipping him.”

  Yes. The reddened circle of skin below the huge head indicates Gerhardt has been circumcised well after his infantile years, perhaps within the past two years.

  Antoinette returns and again turns on the spigot. Gerhardt’s midsection is doused, and she then gently washes the area of skin around the waist previously covered by the belt. The testicles are cleansed with Antoinette carefully working around the pink and purple manhood. As stated, the penis remains untouched.

  Miss Nancy retrieves an object from a nearby table and approaches the supine and now totally naked male. It is a ruler, and she carefully places the end on Gerhardt’s pubes just above the root of the penis.

  “I measure him on occasion. Let’s see..., thirteen inches. That’s very nice, Gerhardt. My toy is paying me a nice tribute today.”

  Her tone is mocking and she smiles with the absolute level of control, and the thought that the organ is performing for her.

  Antoinette spends several minutes removing hairs by insouciantly plucking away with tweezers. The penis seems to harden further. Either the pain or the proximity of Antoinette’s naked form seems to further arouse.

  Miss Nancy watches patiently and looks to me. She knows it is an extremely powerful scene; the ultimate submission of one of the most virile and potent male organs in all of Europe. I have no doubt she has seen and grasped many for her amusement and financial gratification, and that Gerhardt’s is in fact the largest.

  “Give him a little taste Antoinette. You’ve earned some recreation.”

  No sooner said then Antoinette discards the tweezers and gracefully steps onto the table. With her diminutive form she appears to be a child frolicking over her supine father. But this youngster turns to face the far end of the table, straddles Gerhardt’s head then lowers herself until her plump bottom rests on the smooth latex hood covering Gerhardt’s face. Her cute, cleanly shaved pudendum opens to view and she twists and adjusts her cheeks until her rear aperture is evidently mounted over the opening for Gerhardt’s lips and tongue.

  “Gerhardt has become quite the aniliguist over the past few months.” Miss Nancy’s smile is suggestive.

  “And my saucy Antoinette is insatiable.”

  The tongue and lips are Gerhardt’s few moveable body parts, and Miss Nancy laughs as the well restrained, erect but chaste servant works Antoinette’s puckered rectum with what are evidently well practiced oral caresses.

  Antoinette moves her fingers to her exposed genitalia.

  “No, no Antoinette. Hands on head.”

  It is apparent that Miss Nancy’s realm of control includes the naked, French maid, as Antoinette quietly complies. But her frustration mounts with the sound of Gerhardt’s lapping tongue, and she begins to wriggle with the ecstasy.

  “Such a good boy, Gerhardt. Next week I may have Antoinette feather you to full blossom. Won’t that be nice?”

  The mammoth shaft waggles in anticipation. Miss Nancy stoops and casually reaches between Antoinette’s thighs. The soft fingers that cause so many males to grovel with unfulfilled attempts to ejaculate begin to toy with Antoinette’s labia. First stroking, diddling, and then a slow, deft penetration of the vaginal opening. Antoinette moans. Her fragrance becomes stronger.

  “Yes, just let Gerhardt collect it all, Antoinette. Your juices are flowing nicely, naughty girl. The sight of that big, purple shaft is quite the stimulant, isn’t it. And Gerhardt likes showing off for us.”

  Miss Nancy’s fingers work deeper. The sighs and moans quicken. Gerhardt obediently licks. It is an amazing scene, which so well illustrates the dominance of Miss Nancy, her nimble fingers playing with Antoinette’s genitalia like a musical instrument, and Gerhardt’s tongue assuring that the pleasure experienced by the libidinous French maid is the ultimate.

  “I’ve spoiled her rotten, introducing her to the delights of anal play. She’s made poor Gerhardt work so hard ever since. But occasionally she’ll let him have a little taste of her honey pot.”

  The thought lingers as Antoinette squeezes her thighs in a paroxysmal orgasm. Then another and another follow as Miss Nancy’s fingers work their magic, and Gerhardt’s tongue methodically laps from below.

  I do not count the number of orgasmic shudders. But finally Antoinette leans forward and places her hands on Gerhardt’s hips to steady herself. She smiles in complete gratification, and with her proximity to the huge shaft, she puckers her lips and blows on the incredibly sensitive tip. Sensitive due to the absolute isolation demanded of the large phallus by Miss Nancy and her devious locking tube. There seems to be no limit to the heap of frustration, which the two diabolical women pile on Gerhardt.

  “Let him clean you up a bit, Antoinette, and wallow in the aroma of your essence. It looks like you’re going to have to ice him to get the belt back on. Make it a good-sized anal plug this time. A number five should be quite the challenge for him. I feel rather devilish today.”

  We leave the special room and return to the parlor, with the well-restrained Gerhardt carefully licking Antoinette’s piquant juices from her thighs and labia.

  A ring and a knock at the front door indicate that my driver has arrived. I bid Miss Nancy adieu. She smiles pleasantly, but I am well aware she wishes to return her attention to Antoinette. As I depart, a rather firm riding crop catches my eye, hidden in plain view on the parlor buffet. The image of Antoinette’s perky, young cheeks quivering under firm corrective strokes is thought provoking, but alas, my flight waits.

  The ride to Munich permits me to finish my notes concerning the visit with the most accomplished masturbatrix of young males.

  Thus I am off to a small island near Aruba, where Lady Constance’s charges are afforded a hot sun and cooling breezes in which to frolic with their naked, hairless flesh exposed to all. I anxiously wish to learn about ‘banding’ the male appendage as mentioned by Dr. L------. What other curious things await me there?

  A quick look in my bag reveals ample paper. But I make a note to purchase refills for my pen in the Munich airport. I suspect there will be much to record...

  Constancia Island

  This compilation of notes continues my efforts to study Lady Constance, said to be the world’s most dominant woman. Having researched D/s relationships for many years in my capacity as a clinical psychologist, my initial undertaking was to better understand the relationship of Lady Constance and ‘boy’, a trained subjugant. Taking a sabbatical from my university, I spent many weeks interviewing those concerned with ‘boy’s’ care and training. My efforts included a flight to Europe for additional background information and have been summarized in a treatise termed ‘Lady Constance’.

  These notes are an addendum to that effort, arising mainly from a trip, at Lady Constance’s suggestion, to her exclusive Caribbean island. As with the ‘Lady Constance’ treatise, this draft also results from organizing my notes for a paper to be submitted to the American Society for Behavior Modification.

  Chapter One

  I have a two-hour wait in the Berlin airport for my plane to Aruba. My flight from Munich arrived early, another tribute to German efficiency.

  The time between flights provides me with an opportunity to read background material on my ultimate destination, Constancia Island.

  Since Lady Constance surprised me with the airplane ticket to Aruba, I had little notice concerning this extended leg of my trip. But I was able to perform some quick research before leaving and located, deep in the bowels of a New York research library, old magazine articles from the 1920's. Other articles were found, and I copied all and placed them in my brief bag without reading them, having to spend the remainder of the day packing.

  In the following summaries, the italics are my editorial clarifications.

  Esquire, May 25, 1923 “Baron Esterhoven Purchases an Island”

  The wealthy Baron Esterhoven (grea
t grandfather to Lady Constance) has purchased a small, secluded island near Aruba. Past ownership, of the uninhabited two-mile by seven-mile island, has been disputed by three countries, Netherlands, France and Spain. Thus it was only someone such as the influential Baron, with access to the halls of world leadership and with immense wealth, who could finally negotiate the ultimate status of the secluded strip of tropical greenery.

  The solution..., for undisclosed sums paid to all three countries, it now belongs to him. Therefore, a new principality has been created with the Baron and his wife becoming defacto King and Queen of what, by signed agreement, will be recognized as a separate country.

  The Baron was not available for interview, but associates close to the family suggest that the driving force behind the expenditure of considerable time and money, was the beautiful, young Baroness. Noted for her skills as an equestrienne, it seems she has long sought a private facility for training and breeding. Knowledgeable breeders ponder the effect of tropical heat and thus the usefulness of the island as a facility for horses.

  Eccentricity is the privilege of wealth.

  International Construction (a trade journal) June 1924 “Baron Esterhoven Proceeds with Construction”

  Baron Esterhoven has engaged a sizable construction crew and provided them with their own ship to facilitate conversion of his recently acquired island into a habitable utopia.

  The SS Bohemia, leased by the Baron for one year, recently sailed from Savannah, Georgia after taking on earth moving equipment, building material, and a diverse crew of engineers, carpenters, plumbers, electricians.

  Plans for the island are secretive, but dock workers report that the equipment and materials are considerable and could be used to build a city.

  Time, October 15, 1925 “A New Nation?”

  Stories are circulating in eastern Africa that the Baroness Esterhoven, said to be Europe’s most beautiful socialite, has been offering to hire and relocate members of a small African tribe to her island paradise.

  Many Baganda tribe members, noted for their unusual decorative bodies, were seen boarding the Esterhoven yacht in Mombasa. Mostly young women with a few men, it is rumored that their destination is the small island purchased and recently made habitable at the cost of many dollars by the Baron Esterhoven.

  As reported in many society publications, the Baron Esterhoven is effectively a King, having acquired the small island in such a manner as to assure its sovereignty as an independent state. So, a King needs subjects, and the impoverished members of the tribe have apparently been personally interviewed by the Baroness for employment and relocation.

  Long known for her riding skills, the Baroness, some thirty years younger than the Baron, has applied much energy in completing the unusual project, said to be a vacation home with stables and training facilities.

  No one is on record as having seen the island after the two-year renovation. Located some twenty miles from Aruba, all construction workers apparently had lucrative contracts which included secrecy and non-disclosure clauses, thus society circles are abuzz with rumor and innuendo. And with the proclivities of the young Baroness the subject of much past gossip, it is no wonder that the reclusive world of the fabulously wealthy is ‘champing at the bit’ for a glimpse of the world’s newest country.

  New York Times, May 23, 1936 “The Most Exclusive Voyage”

  With the economy still reeling, socialite Baroness Esterhoven, widow of the immensely wealthy Baron Esterhoven, has chosen New York as the port of embarkation for her annual soiree to the Caribbean. The Esterhoven yacht, dwarfing many cruise ships, stands ready to sail from the 42nd Street pier.

  Is it a newly found duty of the rich to bolster the country’s staggering level of employment? In a curious instance of noblesse oblige, help wanted advertisements have been attributed to the Baroness and her planned voyage. The ads seek ‘healthy young males’ for what is described as ‘well paid manual labor’ with ‘no skills required’. There is certainly no end to such a pool of labor.

  Interviews for an undeterminable number of jobs were said to include a rather extensive medical examination, which the Baroness personally supervised with nurses and the noted urologist, Dr. Emily Reinhold.

  Bon Voyage to those fortunate few who met the criteria.

  New York Times, February 5, 1937 “Missing Persons Investigation Stymied”

  A Federal judge effectively terminated today an investigation into the disappearance of several young men. New York police had requested a broad search warrant, which the judge declined to issue citing sovereignty issues, and the right to question Baroness Esterhoven on her exclusive Caribbean island, which the judge declined to issue without comment.

  Allegations that four young males embarked on a ship to the island last spring, never to be seen again, have been pressed by distant relatives. Authorities could find no witnesses to their departure from New York and attorneys for the Baroness have denied that the four young men were among those making the journey.

  The Baroness declined to comment, referring reporters to her legal counsel.

  “Last spring the Baroness did indeed hire many men to engage in manual labor on her island. The four men in question were not among them. For the New York Police Department to attempt to expand their investigatory powers to a foreign country is a violation of international law,” argued Margaret Dowd, the eminent attorney for the Baroness.

  Time, June 23, 1970 “A New Queen”

  The Esterhoven dynasty continues with the birth of a daughter to Sir Reginald(grandson of the Baron and his wife) and Lady Jane Esterhoven. The arrival of the daughter, Constance, was celebrated with the announcement that the secluded family island near Aruba would be renamed in the daughter’s honor.

  But it’s not just an island. It’s actually a small country, which by Sir Reginald’s decree will henceforth be called ‘Constancia’. By his action, there is no doubt that Sir Reginald is anointing his new born as its future Queen and ruler.

  The resources of the Esterhoven family, substantially reinvigorated by Sir Reginald, are reportedly vast, with the peculiar island nation as the only remaining symbol of the old-world wealth. Sir Reginald capably realigned all other family holdings into a new-world investment power, with controlling interests in several fast growing industries including energy, drugs and electronics.

  So the new Queen will have no shortage of monetary resources.

  Chapter Two

  My flight is announced. I carefully fold the articles and place them in my bag. The flight to Aruba is long but I intend to sleep.

  As I wait to board, my mind reviews the island’s chronology. It is interesting that the age-old family of Lady Constance has been tinged with scandal and innuendo for so many years. Proposed horse breeding in the searing heat of the tropics, secretive construction, recruitment of Bagandan women, missing young men..., suddenly my thoughts jump! The Bagandas!

  A cloudy portion of my memory begins to clear. Research from my masters’ thesis comes into focus. The African tribe is recalled.

  The Bagandas were noted for stretching various parts of their anatomy. On females it was most common to stretch the inner labia since large, exposed lips were considered symbolic of a very highly sexed woman. On inferior males it was common to stretch the scrotal sac. A very long, low hanging scrotal sac was deemed humiliating, and recalcitrant tribe members were thus altered.

  This tradition of stretching expanded over the centuries and the tribe developed exotic lotions and methods for slowly and systematically stretching the skin of nubile daughters so they could attract the best husbands and of young males to emasculate for behavior modification purposes. The sophisticated knowledge acquired by the Baganda, which remains as a tribal secret to this day, lies in stretching the flesh in such a manner so that no scar tissue forms, which would tend to desensitize and deform the stretched area. Thus, if the labia are stretched too far too fast, the female loses sensitivity and a degree of sexual desire. In the m
ale, an abbreviated stretching process causes scarring, which would detract from the desired sensual view of smooth, pink flesh.

  Another unusual facet of the Bagandan culture was their relationship with neighboring villages. Whereas the history of Africa is replete with countless wars and battles among bordering African cultures, the Bagandas were for the most part peaceful. There was little motivation to expand their territory, but when attacked, they were noted for their most brutal retaliations.

  But what particularly demotivated opposing warriors was the treatment of prisoners by the Baganda. The possibility of being captured by the Baganda made potential attackers very reluctant to proceed, and eventually no opposing leader could muster the needed warriors to stage an attack. For it was well known that all prisoners were turned over to the Bagandan women, who, it was suggested by numerous accounts, practiced their stretching skills with zeal and without mercy. Also over the years, the younger women were trained by their elders to have a complete disdain for non-Bagandan males, which became ingrained into their psyche. I recalled reading descriptions provided by nineteenth century explorers who when encountering the tribal village deep in the African jungle, observed captured natives being treated as beasts of burden by the Bagandan women, pulling carts and plows, with various anatomical parts modified not only for amusement, but to facilitate restraint.

  It is interesting that in the Time magazine article describing the Baroness’s African hiring excursion there was no mention of the curious skill of the Bagandan women, nor their attitude toward males.

  My thoughts are interrupted by a search for my airplane seat and making myself comfortable. I find myself somnolent within minutes after reclining. But as I sleep, for some reason the reference to Dr. Emily Reinhold stirs my subconscious.

 

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