“Whenever he’s been to the beauty parlor, he likes to go out, though a night’s sleep strains his coiffure.”
Jamie looked as pretty as ever to me. But obviously there were different standards to be met. And what really strained his coiffure was the clenching thighs of his Mistress, I thought to myself, but remained silent. There is something about having a chastity device locked about the genitals that makes a male very deferential to the woman holding the key. And after some small talk, such became the main topic of discussion.
The darkened windows of the living room suggested that I had lied in Liz’s bedroom, bound and in blindfolded isolation, all day. I was very happy to be released but could not help being concerned about the sturdy contraption encircling my genitals.
Comprised entirely of clear plastic, a sizable ring, hinged at the bottom of its circumference, had been closed over both the base of my penis and scrotum. Attached to this was a cage-like cylinder which encapsulated my penis. Numerous openings allowed for the passing of excretions, as I had learned in lying on the rug. But my fingers, naughty fingers as Liz described, could not fit through the openings to touch. And of course the cage was padlocked to the ring and the ring could not be slid off due to the protrusion of my balls.
The result was that Little Sam was cleverly locked away. And tumescence was painfully impossible, as I found when awakening to the sounds of Liz being serviced and experiencing her fifth or sixth orgasm of the night.
Little Sam wanted to join in the merriment and found it agonizingly impossible to even salute.
“You’ll find the CB-2000 to be physically comfortable Sam, but mentally wearing. Over time you’ll become used to it and the fact that Jamie has the only key. It’s not a long walk from your office and you can stop in for cleansing and adjustment from time to time. But you’ll have to arrange that with Jamie.”
I learned much from Liz’s brief comment. A ‘CB-2000', the device was termed. But that thought passed quickly as the notion of Jamie holding the key brought sudden consternation.
“And don’t try to cut it off, Sam. Think about the videotape. You know what is on it and if you’d like to view it sometime when can arrange that. It was recorded in high definition, if you have not seen that yet. The quality leaves very little doubt that it is in fact you cavorting naked with Jamie.
“So remember that it’s very easy to drop it in the building mail chute the first time you fail to respond to my summons or arrive here with a tampered CB-2000.”
I tried to calm myself, though my thoughts ran wild. “To what end, Liz? Why? You have money, beauty, probably as much influence as you’d like to purchase.”
“That’s ‘Miss Elizabeth’, Sam. Henceforth I’ll require more respect. And to answer, it’s about control. You should know that. Plus Jamie needs companionship. And in case you have not realized it, you have not offered much resistance in traversing this path. It started because you were curious about Jamie and a little girl viewing some floggings. Well, we’ll satiate that curiosity for you, Sam. But as I said weeks ago, there is a price to be paid.”
The sensuous soapy hands of Jamie washed as we conversed. For Jamie it was like a child caring for a newly acquired pet, the way he smoothed his hands over me and adoringly washed every crevice. Little Sam began to stand. I grimaced and Liz smiled, knowing the cause.
“Effective little thing isn’t it?
“Plan to spend weekends here, Sam. There may be some times when we must travel, but I think you’ll find that you’ll need release at least weekly. Other times you’ll have to talk to Jamie.
“And don’t fret, you’ll be permitted to entertain from time to time. You were quite the hit last night. Abject humiliation seems to add a degree of lust to your appetite. It will be well fed.”
Liz strolled out. Jamie patted me dry with a large fluffy towel as my hands remained atop my head. It felt good to be pampered after the many hours of bondage. It did not feel good to have Little Sam remaining caged.
Apparently having been deemed finished, Jamie pressed himself against me and kissed my cheek. There was no revulsion and the puffy nipples felt hot.
“Clothes in closet,” he reminded me.
It had been so long that I had forgotten. He followed me to the front door and quickly closed it behind me as I stepped into the foyer naked. I hurriedly opened the small closet, found my clothes and dressed.
I decided to walk home. I had much to ponder.
Chapter Nineteen
Well, dear reader, despite the walk home, there was more to think about than my mind could assimilate in ten blocks.
I arose early Monday morning with Little Sam trying to escape his bonds. Plastic can so easily be cut, I thought to myself. But such action would end my employment at MacDonald Bear. And employment on Wall Street is not easy to find. And the videotape was so precariously close to being mailed, threatening to begin the process of termination by reason of moral turpitude, that I dared not snip away.
Stories I had heard of the old Wall Street came to mind. Twenty years ago, had the recording been of me frolicking with a young female, I would be the hero of the trading desk. My fellow bankers would frown, perhaps assigning me to the more liberal minded clients for a time, but for sure it would not be cause for termination.
Wrong era, wrong gender, I admonished myself with an all too casual mental shrug. Jamie’s tiny penis for sure would be highlighted in any recording intended for blackmail.
My personal balance sheet sucked; a banker’s euphemism for poverty. Untimely purchases of MacDonald Bear stock in good times, utilizing borrowed funds, left me with high debt service, low stock value, and limited cash flow with which to pay the loans in bad times. And worse, much of the borrowing was from MacDonald Bear. Thus I needed my job.
I did things personally that I would not advise a client to do, using presumptive current cash flow, which diminished, to wager that future cash flow would be better. Not a good hedge.
For two days, work drew my attention away from my predicament...for a while. But the CB-2000 did not allow me to use a urinal. And so with every bathroom visit I had to squat. Time consuming and thought provoking, it reminded me on every trip that a rather dominant female and her altered major domo held the key to Little Sam’s emancipation.
By Wednesday, my libido had built to the point that an early morning visit to the bathroom was needed to cool Little Sam and convince him that continued attempts to escape would be painful. And the skin about my scrotum where the large ring held the cock cage felt as if it was afire.
Thus, on late Wednesday morning, I called Liz’s home...‘Miss Elizabeth’, I cautiously reminded myself.
“Stop over after office hours, Sam. I’ll be attending a matinee and having cocktails with friends. Dinner will be served late, so Jamie will have some time for you. You know where the closet is in the foyer. I will instruct Jamie to have the cuffs waiting there. It will be quicker if you put them on yourself.”
“Thank you, Miss Elizabeth,” I dutifully concluded.
And so the first of many interim visits was arranged. I arrived in the foyer, stripped, wrapped wrists and ankles in the firm fur lined strips of leather and rang the doorbell. The first midweek visit was typical of the many subsequent encounters.
A smiling Jamie opened the door, fully clothed and denying me the obligatory curtsy. For these informal occasions his selection of clothing, or Miss Elizabeth’s selection for him, was simple and once again left the viewer questioning his true gender. Loose sweater, sweat pants, minimal make up but on the initial visit there was fading toe nail polish hinting at the weekend escapade.
Since Jamie had other duties, he would immediately clip my wrist cuffs together behind my back and we did not dally. He showed me right to the examination room.
There the CB-2000 was removed and those moments of kindness cannot be adequately described or forgotten. Jamie would slowly shave me, seeming to extend the range of the blade with every visit. More and mo
re of my leg hair, back, and chest was shaven. He spared me the humiliation of denuding my arms, realizing that hair there, or the lack thereof, can be quite noticeable for men.
But in later visits he humorously applied the blade down to my wrist cuffs. No short sleeve shirts for me.
He showered me, and in my extreme chastity, with my libido in a state of frenzy, his soft soothing hands felt so comforting. Then I was toweled with a large fluffy towel warmed to perfect temperature.
It felt so good and Little Sam responded with noteworthy tumescence. Standing from the minute Jamie unlocked the pad lock and the cage was slipped away. During later visits my penis oozed prostatic fluid like a leaky faucet.
The blond ingenue giggled in watching it rise. The fact that it was somewhat under his control seemed to ease his envy, particularly knowing that at the end of the visit, Jamie the lion tamer would somehow bring Little Sam to flaccidity and return the beast to its cage. Ice did the trick.
Other than stuffing Little Sam back into the CB-2000, Jamie never touched my penis. That apparently was off limits. But he knew that in the early weeks the entrapping ring inflamed my scrotum, and just alleviating the irritation was worth the time spent for the entire visit. As I sat on a stool, knees parted, the nimble tongue of a kneeling Jamie would lick my scrotal flesh, and lick, and lick. Then his knowing fingers massaged my sac and my testicles, gently, thoroughly, making Little Sam waggle as if to say ‘me next’. Those were the times when I would lean forward and place an affectionate kiss on the forehead of my gracious benefactor. My homophobia concerning Jamie’s one time gender dissipated with each visit.
‘Angel’s are asexual,’ I convinced myself. Such wonderful soothing hands. And his desire to knead and caress the gonads he no longer had was insatiable. Only conflicts in his schedule terminated my visits, most times having to prepare dinner for Miss Elizabeth.
Weekends were boring but punctuated with stupefyingly humiliating moments.
Arriving on Friday evenings immediately after work, the beginning routine was the same as the interim visits. Doff the clothing, don the cuffs, shave, shower. Only Jamie was in full make up and after my ablutions would change into very pretty clothes.
Miss Elizabeth seemed to enjoy rudimentary sensory deprivation, keeping me hooded most times and sometimes even plugging my ears. And Little Sam was ignored, physically. Visually I am sure he provided quite the amusement, standing instantly when freed of the CB-2000 and remaining stiff until the quiet isolation permitted my mind to wander and my libido to calm.
But to be freed was wonderful. And on those occasions when Jamie unlocked me in Miss Elizabeth’s presence. Groveling, I thanked her, hoping for possibly more than freedom.
But that was all...for week after week.
There were some changes and events which offset the hours and hours of boredom. One was the acquisition of a suspension harness. With pulleys available in both the examination room and the living room, Miss Elizabeth decided that a longer term and safer method for putting me on display would be advantageous over tensioning my neck collar. Thus, after testing the device in the examination room, I many times found myself encased in a webbing of strong nylon straps, all attached to a large steel ring which could readily be hooked to a pulley. Therefore when Miss Elizabeth had one of her notorious dinner parties, I dangled higher with penis and balls at shoulder height, apparently presenting myself in a most satisfying position for her Dominant friends.
And the one woman, whose notable throaty laugh accompanied her examining touch, so added to my frustration, making me squirm with pleasure in diddling of the underside of my glans penis, or lurch in shock as she laughingly dunked my testicles in the icy remnants of her drink.
Punishment for transgressions was simple. The CB-2000 was left locked in place while Jamie pranced about naked or nearly naked. On one horrid Saturday night, after Miss Elizabeth three times tossed crumbs of bread my way and having missed each opportunity to display obeisance with the offerings landing on the carpet, I found myself locked away for the duration. Whereas I discovered a level of self control at home and in the office, Little Sam finally learning that attempts to tumefy only resulted in pain, it was most difficult in Miss Elizabeth’s apartment with the naked ingenue Jamie running about and my psyche knowing what wonderful appendages, tongue and fingers, could be put to such ecstatic use. He was an amazing temptress.
So lying bound and naked on the shaggy rug in the bedroom, Little Sam encapsulated, I listened as Jamie once again serviced Miss Elizabeth ... and serviced ... and serviced. And after her usual multitude of orgasms, she took the time, apparently on her way to the bathroom, to toy with me.
I was lying on my side and felt the warmth of her feet and ankles straddling me and smelled her muskiness, perfume mingling with the feminine aroma of her many spendings. She sat on me, and my heart jumped thinking about my naked goddess being so proximate. My thigh, well shaven by way of Jamie’s alacritous hands, felt the heat of her loins as she used it as a low seat.
“Jamie so makes my juices flow, Sam.”
I felt her hand slide under my hood. Her index finger found my lips and nose. It was wet and fragrant.
“Wouldn’t you like to partake sometime?”
I extended my tongue and partook of her buttery essence. She withdrew and a moment later two fingers invaded the darkness of my hood. Amazingly wet, Jamie indeed had her flowing. I licked the digits dry as Little Sam began to fight for his freedom. The pain grew as she extended a third offering.
“I mean really partaking, Sam. There’s a way to free that wanton penis of yours. And you’ll never have to worry about a package arriving at the 35th floor. Matter of fact, you’ll never have to worry about anything ever again ... except serving me.”
She lowered herself further and pressed her mons into my thigh. I struggled against my bonds trying to free a hand from its confinement. I so wanted to touch her. My authoritative, dashing goddess.
She flicked the CB-2000, noting I am sure, Little Sam’s brash attempt to escape, then arose. She laughed. It was her devilish laugh.
“There’s no escape Sam. I can wait. It’s not my libido that’s being controlled under lock and key.”
And she merely moved on to the bathroom, leaving me to my thoughts, and my frustration.
Chapter Twenty
“Come over at lunchtime, Sam. You won’t be missed for an hour or two.”
Miss Elizabeth could be quite commanding, and when she called I always scrambled to turn off the speaker phone. Her stentorian voice carried and though never engaging in licentious conversation over the phone line, the tone of her voice left no doubt as to who was in charge.
I obeyed of course, always cognizant of the fact that every visit provided an opportunity to be relieved of the CB-2000. It was a Tuesday. I had never before been summoned on a Tuesday and had never sought interim relief on that day of the week.
Chapter Thirty Eight
My cuffs awaited in the foyer closet. I stripped, strapped on the strips of leather and rang. Miss Elizabeth answered the door. A first.
Though surprised, I obediently pulled my hands behind my back and turned. She clipped the wrist cuffs together.
“Thought you’d enjoyed watching something. Tuesday, Jamie is visited by his nurse. And I want you to see the level of care I provide. I think it will help with your decision.”
Though it was not clear to me what decision was expected, I followed Miss Elizabeth to the hallway leading to the bedrooms and the examination room. I expected to be showered and shaved. Instead, the examination room door was closed and Miss Elizabeth led me into the bedroom directly across the hall.
Miss Elizabeth directed me to the bed and I sat. She turned on the ultra modern plasma screen television and as suspected, the monitor was connected to the hidden camera in the examination room. There in full color, in amazing detail, sat Jamie. He was joyfully naked and attended by a white-uniformed woman of some thirty years or more.
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“Nurse Stenson,” Miss Elizabeth explained, “highly experienced and she specializes in altered males.”
Jamie sat motionless on one of the stools, his hands folded on top of his head. The handsome woman, whose short, dark hair was covered in an obligatory white cap, stood behind him, her fingers working to remove one of the diamond earrings. Either Jamie knew to face the camera or Nurse Stenson deliberately placed him in that position.
Jamie appeared so lifelike that it was stunning. I gulped, thinking of my tape waiting to be mailed to the 35th floor in turn for the slightest transgression. Unlike my office, the executive conference room of MacDonald Bear was equipped with high definition television. The lurid videotape would be most impressive.
Miss Elizabeth reached and turned up the sound.
“I think you’ll be favorably influenced. I am sure you’re aware of my affection for Jamie. But this will help assuage any remaining concerns.”
Though still not fully cognizant of Miss Elizabeth’s reference, I watched in amazed silence.
“I want my boys nice and naked, Jamie. Everything goes.”
The nipple piercings were next, the nurse’s deft fingers twisting off one of the diamonds on each gold bar and then sliding the three inch shards free of each nipple. Then Jamie knew to open his mouth and extend his tongue. Incredibly, the length of pink thrust out some four inches beyond his lips, bringing a lascivious laugh from the nurse as she twisted the huge knob from its post penetrating the tongue. Then Jamie widely parted his knees as Nurse Stenson leaned to remove his balls. She did not block the camera, seeming to be very much aware of its location.
Finally, a duplicate key freed the Prince’s Wand.
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