Well James, I think, you’ll just have to do better.
Before leaving for the airport, I remove the orange and place the headphones over his ears. I also fasten his neck collar to the right and left side of the cage, and string some cords from his hood to various places on the bars. This restricts the movement of his head. The headphones will remain in place. The hood deafens him somewhat, but the static noise will penetrate. And the programmed subliminal message will be just the right volume. As I turn to leave I’m chagrined to see I forgot to plug him. It is easily rectified and of course as I insert James’ favorite new toy, I avail myself of the opportunity to apply the most subtle of strokes to his penis, instantly bringing it to full blossom and leaving him something to think about.
No good byes are required. He cannot hear anything but the monotonous noise.
Dr. Alice
I haven’t seen D in three or four years. We used to spend much time together. Although her base knowledge was extensive I taught her much about male anatomy. She taught me much about the mental aspects of the male animal.
Together, we broke many a male. Few were able to withstand the combined mental and physical aspects of our dominance.
But in the long run, one must put aside recreational pursuits and make a living. Thus, I took a position in a St. Paul medical facility, leaving the Chicago area and my good friend D behind.
When D called and said she found a gem I was happy for her.
“This one I’d like to keep forever, Alice,” she effusively explained on the phone. “His psyche is quite malleable.”
So I couldn’t refuse a friend. The idea of revisiting the Canadian spa intrigued me. It was very enjoyable in our younger days of experimentation. Fun for a few years, wearing for too many, but the thought of an occasional return seemed refreshing.
The plane landed on schedule and D was waiting for me. The years have been kind to her, although at 31, that’s not to suggest she is old. But she is graced with a type of beauty that the passing of time seems to enhance.
We spoke on the drive back to her apartment.
“We’re just about through phase one, Alice. He’s displaying dependence and a need to please me. After two sessions of sensory deprivation with subliminal recordings, he requested the vasectomy. Of course I had some unexpected assistance last night. A vanilla stud I like to ball from time to time. He turned out to be a rather interested observer and just by happenstance pushed James’ buttons just right.”
D giggled like girl. I could tell she was fascinated with her acquisition. She recounted the entire evening and we laughed together like old times.
“I’ll want to do a complete physical, D. As simple as the procedure is, it’s important we learn everything we can about James. The information will also assist in his transition.”
D nodded. As usual we were on the some wavelength.
For the remainder of the drive the conversation turned to old times. No more needed to be said about James.
James
Again I was immobile. The static noise filtered through the hood. I was blinded. After sleeping off and on since early the previous evening, I was alert. And kneeling on all fours makes sleep nearly impossible.
So this time, I wait for D’s voice, determined to once and for all ascertain what it is saying, if in fact there is a voice.
Interesting how sound or the expectation thereof so pre-occupies the mind when all other senses are limited. Of course I can taste and smell orange, which thankfully was better then the mush D had spooned into me. And feel. Yes, I can feel the butt plug. And I assume I’m erect since D nicely stroked me before leaving, if in fact she left.
Or is she watching me? With Mr. Dinnerdate!
My mind again begins to foment recalling the antics of the prior evening. Being lead about naked, erect and on a leash for the amusement of D’s male friend was most humiliating. And worst of all it didn’t lead to the passionate love making that I expected.
The voice! It’s somewhere in the background of the static. This time I will listen very carefully and determine what it is saying...
D
Alice and I return to my apartment and decide to let James mellow out with the subliminal tape for a while longer. It has only been two hours and the dear boy’s penis indicates he’s enjoying himself.
While I prepare sandwiches, Alice circles the cage looking at my new plaything.
“Yes, D. He is lovely. A nice sized sac. Under sized penis. Appears to be in good physical condition. I assume you’re going to exercise him more?”
I nod.
“The penis size fits the typical profile. But you’re more aware of that than I am.”
If only James knew that two women were discussing his body as he helplessly knelt, completely exposed to our gaze. I felt some moisture between my thighs thinking about it. I often wonder if Alice feels the same in these situations.
We leisurely eat lunch sitting about my bedroom. James begins to waggle again which causes Alice to laugh, fully aware that he is essentially trying to massage his prostate by flexing the male muscles against his butt plug.
“They’re all the same,” Alice commented with a smile.
“That coffee table in the living room looks useful, D. Do you have any sheets?”
I smile and laugh. The table to which she was referring I had purchased especially for these occasions. It is simple and strong and only Alice would notice the camouflaged eye-hooks I had embedded into the sides. The casual observer would think such was part of the decorative design. But instead I used them to restrain naughty boys and put them on exhibition. Alice’s mind works like mine. A male form kneeling on the table could be secured with his torso and buttocks at just about waist height, leaving him quite vulnerable to the inspecting eyes and the penetrating hands of the curious female.
“I’ll put on a white smock, D. I think something provocative and brief for you, covering the areas the male finds pertinent but still alluring.”
Yes. Dr. Alice has done this so many times.
I strip and begin to rummage in my dresser drawer. A nice tennis outfit should do. With no undergarments the short pleated skirt should be very suggestive...and provide access should I desire James’ tongue.
I glance over my shoulder. Alice has removed her clothing and is unpacking her bag. Still in wonderful shape, no one would guess she’s in her mid forties. Daily exercise does wonders, I think to myself. And she still shaves her genitalia.
Sometimes the aging process enhances the dominant female. Dr. Alice used to line up the boys for ‘short arm’ inspection and it was very comical to watch her barking commands to a group of naked males. Now with the commanding presence projected by her maturity, I believe they’d be jumping to submit. Simultaneous cunnilingus and analingus was her favorite recreation. How she could remain standing with one young male kneeling to her front and one kneeling in back was beyond me. Superior will and leg strength was the only answer. She enjoyed the male tongue so much I believe she designed her workouts just to develop the muscles needed to overcome the fatigue of extensive oral service. She was insatiable and could outlast most tongues...
The tennis outfit is perfect. I had it shortened years before, and it just covers my pudendum, except when I move. Then in the front it flashes some pink between my thighs and in back it bounces off the lower buttocks displaying some crack between the cheeks.
Dr. Alice’s smock is the epitome of professionalism. It even seems to flatten out her magnificent breasts. But alas, that is her role, the ascetic, genderless physician.
I find a set of white sheets. While Dr. Alice drapes the coffee table I turn on the microphone. James is awake but in a deep reverie, similar to a daydream. The sensory deprivation has that effect. Bringing him back to reality takes a moment and to me it’s an arousing scene. The subject is always so grateful and compliant. If James had a tail, it would be wagging.
“Dr. Alice is here James. She wants to examine you.”
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br /> He stirs and attempts to move, forgetting how carefully and tightly I bound him to the cage bars. Within a minute the hood is removed. The cuffs are released from the bars and tethered together. While James’ eyes adjust I snap on the leash. It’s quicker to have him move while sighted. And I want him to see Dr. Alice in action. There is nothing more humiliating than one of her intimate physicals.
Dr. Alice
Obedience to authority is an interesting phenomenon. With my introduction by D, James exits his cage and mounts the makeshift examining table with a degree of obeisance that is comical. James appears to be a clumsy child, trying to please but finding it mentally and physically difficult to do so.
I gently but firmly instruct him to move about on the table. There is no real purpose for this other than to establish my control. He immediately responds and I manage to hide my smile of satisfaction. For the next hour, he’s mine.
I have him kneeling on all fours with thighs well spread. In deference to D’s recent regimen of full time bondage, his wrists and ankle cuffs are quickly clipped to the table’s numerous eye-hooks. His collar is removed. I want nothing hidden from view, not even his neck.
I begin with a rectal thermometer and of course encounter one of the huge butt plugs that so enthrall D. I cluck my tongue in feigned admonishment and give it a tug.
“Push for me James. I’ll need access to your rectum.”
It glides out.
I deliberately over lubricate the thermometer and James cannot hold it in place, particularly since D has so stretched the sphincter.
“Head down, arch your back James. Yes. Point your anus upwards so the thermometer doesn’t fall out. Remain motionless.”
I reinsert it and see D stifling a laugh. The forced posture pushes his scrotum back and the deliciously pink and smooth sac is completely exposed to two pairs of lustful feminine eyes.
While James struggles to hold the awkward pose I circle the table poking, pinching, prodding. It’s as if I am inspecting a side of beef. James becomes erect as expected. D certainly has selected well. The humiliation of being stripped naked, bound and displayed before two women arouses him. He cannot help himself, the dear boy. He may hate himself for it but he is stuck with his submissive psyche. James is unaware of his own proclivity. Uncovered by D, it will be hers to utilize as she sees fit.
Ostensibly, I feel a degree of sympathy for James. But then, one must understand that D will take him on a fantasy-like trip to the ultimate utopia of submission. And deep down James will enjoy every moment of the journey.
I stop in front of James and hold a stethoscope to his chest. His heart is racing. His flesh is somewhat moist. Breathing is shallow and rapid. These are symptoms of sexual arousal and are solely due to his psychological make up. Submission, humiliation, bondage equates to a sexual encounter for James.
I look into his eyes. Some tears are beginning to form.
Well my pet, I think to myself, there can be many reasons for these tears. But strangely, there will be a time when you will look back to these moments as some of the happiest. Such irony.
Next I have him open his mouth. I could care less what’s inside. Again, the importance is that I command. He obeys. I jam the obligatory tongue depressor down his throat. He gags. What fun.
I toy with his nipples. I can see where D enjoys tormenting them. Nicely formed and perky for a male, I cannot help but to simultaneously pinch both and listen as James cries out in pain. Yes. He knows who’s in control.
I move to his side smoothing my hand over his naked flesh. James does not have much body hair, which is preferable for most dominant women and he has a good build. Obviously a good athlete in more youthful times, there is evidence of past exercise.
That will be re-instituted under D’s tutelage and it is comforting to know the growth plates have been established in his formative years. Dominant women have been known to make strong demands...
I retrieve a tape measure and ask D to record various measurements of James’ anatomy. There can be use for such at some point in time, but the process affords me another opportunity to evidence my control and make humiliating comments concerning his physique. When he bows his head in shame, I know I’m being effective.
So, by the time I return to the thermometer, which James has dutifully held in his rectum, I smile to see it pointing straight upwards with James’ thigh muscles straining to maintain the strange position.
I slip it out and read the temperature to D. Next come the latex gloves. Slowly and noisily I slip them over my hands. The obligatory snap causes James to flinch. He knows what is coming.
James
Dr. Alice amazed me. I had never been examined by a female doctor before, and the experience is most humiliating. Totally naked, helplessly bound to conform with D’s new edict, I knelt there and felt my manly pride slowly sink.
I was already erect when her gloved hands reached between my thighs. I expected her to work around the embarrassing problem, but instead she very subtly stroked my turgid phallus and pulled it back and down toward the table. Then the tape measure reappeared and I flushed when she called out my penis length to D with a tone of disappointment.
“At maximum tumescence, length is 5 inches,” she concluded.
Then a pause while her hands moved.
“Circumference is adequate, however, 4.5 inches.”
Then she discarded the tape. It was time for my testicles.
I have never before experienced such a thorough and extensive examination of such small organs. She squeezed. She pulled. She twisted. I again cried out and was ignored. D moved to my front. Her thighs were at the level of my face and she was wearing this brief tennis skirt which revealed the entire length of her magnificent thighs. With Dr. Alice working away my thoughts were diverted to my desire to once again rest my head between the soft but firm flesh and have my tongue revel in the charms of her sex.
D tenderly stroked my forehead to comfort me and divert my attention. Then came a jolt of pain as Dr. Alice brutally squeezed my left gonad. My thoughts were no longer distracted. Gripping tightly she pulled with one hand and with the other began pinching within my sac various connecting vessels, ducts and nerves.
“Good firm testicles with a sizable sac, D” she noted with satisfaction. “The nerves should be lengthy. Think you’ll be pleased with the results.”
I looked up to see D smiling with something akin to pride of ownership. She gently pushed my head further down and moved a little closer. There was nothing under the brief pleated skirt. I could just see a set of pink lips with that marvelous slit between. The bottom of her vulva was ever so slightly exposed when she lifted her arms to hold my head. Her excitement in witnessing my extreme humiliation was evident as her feminine aroma filled my nostrils.
The prostate exam was next. Dr. Alice used her smaller feminine hands to advantage. Having been stretched by D over the weeks, the doctor worked my rectum with one finger, then two, then three, and finally a fourth. She took her time and at the point when she withdrew her three fingers in order to introduce the fourth, she grasped my rock hard manhood and again pulled it downward toward the table.
“We don’t want any accidents, James,” was her comment.
The angle was tormenting. I arched my back further to minimize the angle and therefore the pressure, but Dr. Alice merely pulled back further.
“Stay James. The penis cannot function in this position. I do not want you to ejaculate.”
I obeyed. With me thoroughly bound to the table and completely exposed, and with her penchant for dispensing pain, there was no alternative but to listen very carefully and follow her commands.
“The prostate is a little swollen, D. Apparently underutilized. After the operation you’ll need to monitor it. He’ll have less use for it then and it does need to be activated from time to time.”
Again I looked up to see D wearing a distant smile. She was dreaming about something and it was apparently rather pleasant.
Twice I could feel myself ‘pull the trigger’, attempting to activate the muscles for ejaculation. Nothing happened and amazingly, Dr. Alice felt the muscles move both times.
She laughed.
“He’s quite oversexed D. He’s trying his best to embarrass himself by climaxing right here in front of me, the naughty boy. But he’ll learn over time.
“This is not yours to control any more.” This comment was directed to me and emphasized with an incredibly firm squeeze of my erection.
Finally, there was nothing left for Dr. Alice to inspect. She had completely removed any remaining dignity and opened me in a most humiliating manner.
Deep down, there was a strange feeling of satisfaction beneath the superficial emotions of anguish and degradation. I knew then that I was owned.
D
Watching the tears form on James is both heart rendering and arousing. This reaction to Dr. Alice is exciting to watch. A grown male has knelt and given her unfettered access without uttering a word of protest.
Yes. James is ready to make his gift. And he seems to enjoy Dr. Alice’s handiwork so much that I think the operation will be performed with only local anesthetics. James will be able to watch.
The examination ends and I continue to soothe James while Dr. Alice packs away her paraphernalia.
It’s late in the afternoon and I’m sexually excited. I always feel wonderfully decadent when the urge for sex comes in daylight and the thought of a matinee looms.
Alice looks at me with a knowing smile. We’ve done this so many times we can read each other’s thoughts.
A Gift From James Page 4