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“Still belligerent after two years. Must be the testosterone injections,” Miss Penny conjectures.
Bent over and spread, between parted thighs the huge plums swing heavily... and invitingly. Miss Penny begins the daily torment, her right arm swinging gracefully to bring forth the sound of a mild splat... and a howl of pain.
“Since I spank his balls every day, they remain tender. Doesn’t take much to bring correcting pain. And the testes will swell nicely, challenging the rings. Given a few hours to recover, the glands will somewhat shrink... but not entirely. I’m growing them. It’s like watering your garden every day... and I’m growing... what would you say 88... plums?.. apples?... grapefruit? Ha, ha, ha.”
With her wicked snicker, Miss Penny swings again... and again... and again. Mentally, 128 compares the punishment to a crisp caning and finds the strokes to be easy and moderate. Yet in listening to the resulting lisped cries and pleases for mercy, the results seem even more effective.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Miss Penny wants him kept standing. That why he’s chained high,” 54 explains. “Part of his daily torment. After many hours, whether he’s run in harness or not, there comes exhaustion... and begging. Miss Penny enjoys it when he begs.”
54 lectures as she stands on a low stool swabbing the naked flesh of 88. Miss Penny departed, the testicle spanking tiring, a mint julep deemed more inviting at the end of a hot afternoon. She has left 54 to explain the role of a groom. Thus she cleanses. In the nearby aisle, a Mastiff attentively sits upright, guarding... perhaps more aptly described as supervising... the naked, tattooed and branded Nusquam trio.
“As you can see, he’s been defanged, so that despite his feistiness you need not be overly cautious about biting. As Miss Penny explained, since there are daily testosterone injections, keeping him quite randy... and virile... he can be combative. Still, as opposed to the geldings, he pulls well when subjected to the sjambok. The neutered male is more easily controlled but performance can be lacking.”
Hands working from top to bottom, the soapy chamois smoothes caringly, 88 serene and silent in recovering from his ordeal.
128 cannot help staring at the swelled testicles, now mightily straining the scrotal sac and challenging the rings. If the likes of Miss Penny can so torment a huge virile male, to what limits will she be tormented... if any?
“Go ahead and play if you’d like. He can’t object,” 54 noting the stare. “And by all means examine his penis. You’ll need to understand how he’s kept chaste since you’ll be fluffing him for Miss Penny.”
54 steps from the stool, having cleansed from head to waist.
“In addition to being tubed, there’s a Prince’s Wand insertion... capped. He pees only with permission.”
The right index finger of 54 lowers, slips under the steel penis tube and daintily lifts.
“This is where you will stimulate him... very carefully. He is never ever to be brought to ejaculation.”
128 sees that the underside of the tube does not completely cover the penis shaft. There is a small open patch exposing less than a square inch of penile flesh... limited but oh so significant. 128 has learned this in her fellatio training. Purportedly it is where the male obtains 80% of his sexual stimulus.
“Miss Penny wants him to perform erect. She insists that, at least initially, his penis tube be upstanding when harnessed and run. The circumference has been graciously measured to allow that. Room to stiffen and swell... but otherwise rendered useless for attempted masturbation and certainly sex. And with the deluge of testosterone, he will stand well for you.”
As she speaks, 54’s index finger swirls about, ever so slightly grazing the skin of the open patch. 88 grunts. 128 watches as the steel encasement seems to spasm and lurch, 88 glaring lustfully at her sizable mammary glands.
“He likes your tits, 128. This part of your chores should be easy for you.”
Amazed, 128 watches as the tube of steel slowly but quite steadily angles upwards.
“Miss Penny says he was quite the stud before being rendered to Nusquam. And in a way he still studs... but not under his own auspices. His sperm is extracted monthly. Used for to keep the girls in the milking parlor lactating.”
“Milking parlor?” 128’s voice tremulous in inquiring.
“The members... there’s no end to the deviant forms of entertainment here. There are those of us that let down for them... secreting... some on a simple verbal command... some on a goat milking machine... some by hand. But they let down. It’s demeaning, being milked at another’s behest, but it’s... well... tranquil. No forced exercise... no sjambok... just lots of lactate inducing food and... well... nothing. A very sedentary existence.”
“Have you been milked?”
“No, my breasts. Deemed useful but inadequate for milking. But you... well, whatever happens happens. They’ll find a role for you and it will... suit you. You’ll come to revel in it... otherwise there’s the pump house.”
“Miss Penny mentioned that to you... nearing another step in status.”
“We are all to serve there at some point. It’s unavoidable except for...” a 54 glum faltering on her choice of words.
“Escape?”
“On no, the hounds will track you... within hours if not minutes. I saw one subjugant dragged back by her ankles... and then she was summarily prepared and relegated to the pump house. There’s no where to go... miles and miles of insect infested jungle.
“No, it’s death, 128. Those in the pump house wish for it... and eventually it comes for them.”
