A Gift From James

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A Gift From James Page 5

by Chris Bellows


  “He’ll be ready for your toy in another week the way you’ve opened him so far,” was Alice’s observation.

  So many times she has observed me with my harness standing over a helpless male while I methodically lubricate the ‘man stretcher’.

  No male ever thinks I can make him accommodate it. I always prove him wrong. But as Alice knows, it takes time. Damage must be avoided, and a well-stretched backside will actually beg for more attention if properly introduced to the delights of anal penetration. So, I patiently open the male in stages. And the interim oral gratification is more than acceptable.

  I locate James’ collar and decide to give him a treat. While I loop it around his neck I ever so slightly separate my thighs and make sure my brief skirt is hiked up a little more.

  Sure enough, my subservient friend cannot resist. His forehead moves to my abdomen and his tongue thrusts out, just able to lick the lower portion of my outer labia. It feels good. I am somewhat moist from watching Alice ply her craft and having the hot wet tongue obsequiously lick is not only physically enjoyable, but the mental aspects of the act of submission bring a satisfying smile.

  I’m going to need more. And I cannot spoil James.

  I let him lap away and look to Alice. Her hand disappears underneath her smock. She also is aroused by my pet.

  We nod to each other. That’s all it requires.

  James

  Holding the pose for Dr. Alice was exhausting...buttocks up, thighs spread, and head down.

  But her massage of my prostate was oddly both satisfying and frustrating. I greatly needed to ejaculate. When D began to replace my collar I could not help but humbly lick her charms. Perhaps I can inveigle her to take me to her bed, I think to myself. But meanwhile I lick...and lick and listen to Dr. Alice softly laugh.

  Alas, it was not to be.

  Although greatly aroused, D curtails my oral efforts, snaps on my leash and leads me back to my cage. There the wrist and ankle cuffs are secured. She disappears and returns with another orange, slit in four places. I do need the sustenance and I am grateful when she dangles it in front of me.

  I suck with my lips and thrust my tongue through a slit.

  As I work the delightful juices, I hear the sounds of sighs and kisses. Then the sound of a zipper. Next, the two women, completely naked, prance into the bedroom. They’re holding hands and laughing as both crawl atop D’s large bed.

  D lies down with her back to me. Dr. Alice positions herself facing me but with her feet on the pillow end of the bed. Completely ignoring me, their lust is apparent. Sappho would blush watching the hungry, simultaneous oral attacks perpetrated on the two sets of beautiful pink labia.

  I feel my erection stir. The dangling orange partially blocks my view and I find myself nosing it out of the way, only to have it swing back.

  After several minutes, D arises and approaches my cage. My eyes are transfixed to her nakedness as she crosses the fully lit room.

  “You need to be hooded, James. But I’ll let you listen.”

  D

  I never think of myself as bisexual. I guess sexually opportunistic would be a better term. Dr. Alice knows all the right buttons and watching her work James was too arousing. I could neither let her lust nor mine wane. And utilizing James did not fit into my program of complete abstinence. So, I made sure Dr. Alice was satiated. And I in turn climaxed noisily, thus adding another dimension to James sexual frustration...listening to the delights of lesbian passion.

  It was dark before Alice and I became too tired to move. She had a flight back to St. Paul at 9:00 p.m. So we showered together and talked while dressing with James listening to all.

  We agreed to February 5 as the travel date to the spa. James and I would fly to Calgary from Chicago. Alice would fly there directly from St. Paul. Then we would pick up the special train to the spa.

  Some more mush for James was in order. Then Dr. Alice and I left for dinner and the airport.

  Before leaving, James was again hooded, a new tape begun, and a nice sized butt plug was inserted. This one was just a little bigger than the last. His rectum swallowed it as if it was hungry, which brought a knowing smile to Alice’s face.

  I returned hours later and left James in sensory deprivation for the remainder of Saturday evening and Sunday, except of course for the morning ablutions, which he performed for me back in the bathtub and with the obedience of the puppy he was becoming.

  I released him on Sunday night, saying nothing. He left my apartment deep in thought, completely confused about his sexuality and his inability to manifest his male drive.

  And that’s how the weekend concluded.

  James

  For the next few weeks, time passed quickly during the week. Slowly during the weekends. As curious as my relationship with D was becoming, something told me to return...again and again. You’re close, something inside told me. She’ll make you happy...yes, and Eve will let you out of the mink cage, my alter ego retorted.

  Just as with the weekend where I was introduced to Dr. Alice, each subsequent workweek ended with me driving directly to D’s apartment on Friday.

  Sometimes she was alone. Sometimes an unctuous Mr. Dinnerdate would be making cocktails and displaying an irritating smirk of self-confidence. It made no difference to the routine. D would just smile and nod toward the bedroom where I would strip naked.

  My time in the cage extended on each visit. Mush and oranges were the sole nourishment. The bondage always felt tighter with each visit, although that may have been my imagination.

  I was hooded constantly. Except on one or two occasions when, in what was probably the middle of the night, a naked D would slip off the latex covering and I would then watch her make love with Mr. Dinnerdate. Those occasions caused pain. I found myself involuntarily counting her throaty sighs of passion, Mr. Dinnerdate apparently bringing her to multiple orgasms.

  In the throws of intense copulation she would glance my way, a diabolical smile would appear and another verbal emission of ecstasy would erupt, my well-bound naked and helpless body seeming to spur her to new heights of pleasure. With her teasing glance my desire would overwhelm and cause me to wrench against the tight cords. With this, she would laugh, causing Mr. Dinnerdate to also look my way, and join in her merriment.

  After the steamy intercourse, D would return to the cage, let me sniff her hot, wet and fragrant sex, coat my nose and lips with love juice then once again slide the hood over my face. The replacement of the headphones signaled that my mind was to return to the black, static filled world of daydreams and hallucinations. Observing D and Mr. Dinnerdate was a maddening respite...listening to sounds of clamorous lust, watching the ultimate gratification of the woman for whom I pined, and then smelling the aftermath of the seemingly unending fornication. And it ended with a wanton feminine smile, a teasing application of her fragrant essence and a mere tug on a latex hood. The weeks went by with continuing chastity and the abstinence was most frustrating. When permitted to speak, I groveled for attention and her touch. D would merely reply that the trip to the spa would take care of my problem, seeming to hint that the gift of my vasectomy would conclude with relief.

  Meanwhile I was permitted to service D with my tongue. When she secured me in the cage with my head close to the front bars, it signaled her desires. She would push her hips against the bars, stand with feet spread and arms akimbo and my newly strengthened tongue would meekly thrust forward and lick. By the third weekend after Dr Alice’s visit and every weekend thereafter, I was hooded during my oral servitude. It seemed that less and less was I permitted to glimpse at D’s marvelous flesh.

  So I learned to savor D. When she permitted my tongue to work long enough, she shuddered with numerous small orgasms. I felt a glow in servicing her. Not as powerful as an orgasm of my own but quite a comforting feeling. Something about being of service to this beautiful woman of strength and confidence provided me with the temporary antidote to the acute sexual frustration. An
d my male appendage felt as stiff as steel. I’m sure I was remaining nicely erect for her. Although D would just diddle my frenulum and laugh.

  Then, within nine days of the February trip, my life changed completely. I hit the lottery!

  Not the biggest of jackpots, but the good news was I was the sole winner. So some $24,000,000 was mine. $100,000 per month for twenty years!

  The results were confirmed on a Thursday. I immediately announced my resignation from employment and just as quickly called D.

  “Stop over, James. I’ll have a nice surprise for you.”

  It was closer to a command than an invitation. And for some reason I envisioned myself where I had last observed Mr. Dinnerdate, frolicking in D’s bed and vigorously pumping between her wondrous thighs.

  D

  James’ pleasantly surprising phone call was great news but caught me somewhat flat footed. The well thought out program of sensory deprivation and subliminal messaging was progressing nicely, but with James’ newly acquired economic freedom, I had to alter the scheduling...and quickly.

  I canceled all my appointments for the remainder of that Thursday and rushed to a medical supply store. I also stopped at the bank and obtained papers for opening a joint account.

  James would soon find himself a very impoverished millionaire, I thought to myself. And our trip to Canada will be made in style!

  Returning to my apartment, I was just finishing the first revised subliminal tape when James rang at the building’s front door. What timing.

  Consistency is important in behavior modification programs. So despite James’ display of both excitement and his winning ticket, I merely smiled and nodded toward my bedroom as I did on every prior visit.

  He immediately became silent and marched to my room. There, under my watchful gaze, he removed his clothes and looked back to me for instructions.

  I stood with a forceful pose, stifling a laugh. James’ little penis began to stiffen just from my imposing stance and visual inspection. I pointed to the bathroom.

  “In the tub on all fours. Remain motionless.”

  Yes. A rather strict welcome considering James was a newly made millionaire. But I reasoned that I might as will find out sooner rather than later if his newly found flightiness over the lottery winnings would usurp his weeks of training.

  When he silently and sullenly turned and sauntered as ordered, I knew the completion of my program was on firm ground.

  Deep in a bottom dresser drawer I found one of my old nurses uniforms. I changed.

  The uniform was not only symbolical of the role I was about to play, but also functional. James would effectively be a patient over the next few days. Since he had quit his job, no one was expecting him anywhere and with nine days until our trip, some intense applications of psychological dominance would become the coup de grace for James’ remaining ego.

  I let him stew in the bathroom while I laid out the newly acquired items from the medical supply store. I also located the lottery ticket which a rather cavalier James had quickly stuffed into his trousers before disrobing. Strange that I treated this small square of paper with more reverence then him. But perhaps I was more aware of what a wonderful change in life style it would bring him.

  James

  I waited for D as instructed. My thoughts were running wild and I realized she was the remaining thread of consistently in my life. No more job. No more financial concerns. I could do anything. Be anywhere.

  Tell Dr. Alice to get her shears ready, I thought of communicating to D. And after that it would be I making D happy. Maybe I’ll hire Mr. Dinnerdate to drive my limousine, or better, shine my shoes, I mused.

  Then D entered wearing a white uniform and carrying a large rubber bag with tubing. She did not appear to be sharing in my joy and my thoughts returned to her.

  “You’re too excited, James. This will calm you. We have much to do over the next few days. Our trip is in nine days.”

  D

  James had obviously never had an enema before. I have been known to make them quite challenging, but emptying his bowels was a real need. Thus, I professionally lubricated his rectum, inserted the bardex nozzle and inflated it. Hanging the bag on the shower rod, James’ reaction to the massive quantity of warm water was rather amusing.

  Yes, James, I think. The bowels expand much more than you would believe. You will take it all. Again and again.

  A thorough cleansing was more important than time and watching James squirm under the pressure added a degree of entertainment to the otherwise sloppy procedure.

  While he filled, I shaved him and made a mental note to have him depilated. There were staff at the spa that were quite proficient at such. And although expensive, money was no longer of concern.

  Within minutes, James’ bulging belly told me he was ready, but instead of immediate release I instead turned off the flow and let the feeling of intense pressure overwhelm his thoughts. Not too long. When he began to grovel I released the nozzle. Normally I’m not so accommodating, having a reputation for utilizing the liquid torment for lengthy sessions. But a long evening was planned so I let the first application spew into the tub and I refilled the bag.

  James looked aghast as I repeated the procedure. But his bowels needed to be absolutely cleansed.

  During the third application I mixed an emetic into a glass of water. He drank. He vomited. The tub collected all and when I released the bardex nozzle, the last remnants of what solids James had in his system flowed down the drain.

  I turned on the shower and gently soaped and washed his entire body. The little erection stood nicely for me. Such a tribute, I thought. But more homage will be shown. The thought brought a smile to my lips.

  “I’m going to need evidence of your devotion if we’re going to keep seeing each other, James. I have been very good to you.”

  I planted the theme of the new subliminal tape. When he began to reply, I ordered silence and turned on the shower to rinse.

  “You’re going on a long trip, James. The first step is to your cage. Kneel in front of the door and wait for me.”

  I turned off the water and dried him. When he meekly crawled out of the tub and approached his weekend abode, I knew I had him. The leash and collar were not needed and watching his hairless scrotum bob about between his thighs made me moist.

  There were things that still needed to be arranged. I let James wait before the cage and watch me perform my ominous preparations.

  First another inflatable nozzle for his rectum. A little different then the enema nozzle, this one was designed to slowly feed liquid into the lower intestines. In this case liquid nourishment.

  “Spread for me. Head down.”

  It slid in effortlessly. He was squeaky clean there and nicely lubricated. While his forehead was on the rug I used the occasion to grasp his erection and pull it back toward me between his thighs.

  Yes, I catheterized many males at the psychiatric ward, all under varying circumstances and conditions. An erection adds a degree of difficulty, but also a degree of enjoyment. And for poor James the foley was sitting right there on top of the cage. There was no sense waiting for flaccidity to return.

  Normally with young males I take my time. But there was much to do. Thus James escaped the slow torment, which can be applied in catheterization, but the tip still took its toll. Particularly when it passed through his excited prostate gland. I could not help laughing when he jumped.

  He could not do otherwise. The little inflatable tip was pumped with water making it impossible to expel from his bladder. James would not need to consider bathroom trips for awhile.

  Wrist and ankle cuffs were next, then his collar. He was accustomed to the routine.

  “Into the cage James. Face to the front bars.”

  He complied even with the tubing and I secured his cuffs to the bars. This time I wanted him squatting on his haunches with his wrists drawn back and just above his shoulders, a much more comfortable position than kneeling.<
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  But there was one more item, a good sized, Teflon gag-reflex tube which remained atop the cage unnoticed among other items.

  I rolled the hood over his head. As usual he began to lick my hand and I was ready. I pinched and held his tongue with the fingers of my left hand. His extended tongue left him unable to close his mouth, my right hand inserted the gag-reflex tube.

  A male can fight it for a while, but when the tube knocks on the esophagus two or three times, the reflex almost always causes concession. So when I felt the throat open, I pushed. The soft flexible hose easily slid to his stomach.

  Cruel? Yes. But James would need sustenance. And my program required that I control it. I sat back and surveyed my toy. Every aperture was under my domain, except his nose, which was needed for breathing and would also be used to entice him with the fragrance of my excitement.

  I secured his hood to the bars along with his collar, completely immobilizing is head. When finished, goose bumps formed with my giddy reaction. The power was thrilling. Complete subjugation of the male beast. And the thought of the newly acquired money was pure icing atop a delicious cake named James.

  While I connected the tubes to various bags and receptacles, I explained to James his situation.

  “You’ll feel liquids entering your stomach, James. It’s a slow drip of nourishment. You may feel the same in your intestines. That again is nourishment combined with a very mild sedative introduced through your rectum. Since you’re going to be in your cage for quite a while, the drug will help you settle and relieve any potential muscle cramps.

  “You’ve obviously been catheterized. Thus, there’s no reason for you to leave the cage. And since you’ve been internally well cleansed, you won’t experience a bowel movement for days.

  “The sedative may cause you to hallucinate more than usual. My advice is to ride with it. Let your dreams flow. Since you’re now wealthy, more can be realized than ever before. Think of how well you can spend it in serving me and what a nice gift you’ll present to me at the spa.”

  With my last statement, I opened the valves of the clear plastic bags of specially formulated liquid. Alice had left me with a prescription for the sedative, which was easily introduced into the maze of tubes. A collecting bag in the back of the cage began to slowly fill with the excretion from James’ catheter.

 

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