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The words bring remorseful introspection. It is true. Though escape is most likely impossible, to what life and existence would 128 flee? She is penniless, homely... and forever marked as the property of others. Will she ever fully adapt? Accept her indenture?
128 hears the rattle of ice, Miss Florence standing behind enjoying a cool drink, no doubt gazing at the supine form of Shannon the Cannon, lying on a narrow padded platform. Before being summarily caged, 128 licked his scrotum, sucking with tender aggression. She then engulfed as much of his mammoth erection as possible, a swirling tongue bringing the rock hard stiffness Miss Florence demands. Deemed appropriately fluffed, a snap of fingers and a gesturing hand sent her to the cage.
Now both women admire, a tranquil bullstud Shannon awaiting patiently, subordinating himself, his penis and his talents for a daily $6,000. He is well disciplined, 128 thinks to herself. Most men she has known bring themselves to climax under their own auspices. Not this docile professional. The cannon is ready to fire, but it will do so at the behest of the ravishing and talented Miss Florence Gale... and no one else.
There comes the clink of glassware as Miss Florence places her empty drink on the top of the cage. She finally steps forth, bringing herself into the vision of 128. The sight brings a gasp of air, her nakedness sublime. As opposed to 128, the woman is proportioned to perfection, nothing oversized... as with the breasts of the caged subjugant... and certainly nothing undersized, feminine curves abounding. A trimmed mons attracts, bright pink inner labia peeking past plump fleshiness to invite. A clitoral hood welcomes attention, a pearl of delight resting beneath. Is 128 salivating?
Miss Florence strides, no evidence of eagerness, casually straddling the platform and Shannon beneath, appearing to be mounting a horse. It is a well practiced move, graceful, almost ballet like... classical but for the nudity and the twelve standing inches of black cock awaiting her.
She kneels between the parted bronze thighs of firm muscle. A left hand reaches down, palming testicles the size of peaches. Such are moist, the remnants of 128’s oral efforts remaining. As a thumb glides about, sensing a woman’s power over the vaunted male organs, two fingers of the right hand smooth up and down a shaft of granite. There comes a girlish giggle, a smile from Shannon the Cannon. He offers himself, not moving in response. He knows to acquiesce.
Once again the fingers move to the penis tip and slowly draw downward. Shannon grunts yet otherwise stirs not. In releasing, there comes another thump, the erection snapping back to greet the flesh of a perfectly flat abdomen.
Miss Florence smiles, a ready cannon excelling in her test.
“I’ll tell you when,” Miss Florence admonishes, a finger tapping the nose to underscore her reminder.
And with that, she shuffles forth and parts her thighs, feet slipping to the sides right and left, 128 amazed as a hand aligns the giant erection and she lowers herself, exhaling quietly yet forcefully with the exhilaration of smooth firm penetration. Incredibly, the love nest of Hollywood’s most beauteous and renowned actress hungrily swallows without effort, the long thick black shaft slowly but steadily disappearing from view.
Contrasting unsurpassed looks and sophistication, the raven hair flings about, firm breasts roll, the hips rock, her body bucks. In riding her bullstud, the woman becomes a wanton whore. Yet, just as with the subjugants of the jungle enclave, knowledge of her predilection is never to escape Nusquam.
Chapter Thirt- Four
Kelly Devers smiles inwardly, observing intently as the shaking hand of Mike ‘Muskrat’ Mansfield grasps his beer glass. A layer of suds understandably sloshes over the side well before his lips can partake. He ignores the sloppiness, quaffs heavily and gulps to clear his throat.
“So Wendy says I should come to this bar. Meet someone with an idea,” the quivering voice belying the man’s relative youth.
“I understand you’d like to go to an out of the way place. Where a guy can... not be found,” Kelly’s soft words not to be overheard.
“Yes, I have problem,” the reply coming with the turn of the head, cautiously surveying the bar for undesired listeners.
Kelly nods her head... pleasantly. Though never to fully divulge the daunting life facing the subjugants of Nusquam, she needs to inveigle. The largess obtained with the rendering of heiress Patricia LaMange has offered a new life... and incentive. She has found that the freedom to pick and choose masochistic clients for her singular after care specialty is relaxing. And that money offers many alternatives to working.
Thus she has decided to focus more on commissions, the Director of Nusquam both appreciative of those desiring to live out a life in servitude and generous with those who find and recruit.
“Sunny and warm... I hope,” Muskrat Mike prompting for more information
Kelly nods again, her look becoming more serious.
“It won’t be a vacation, Muskrat. But it is an alternative to what you’re facing. I read in the papers it’s many years.”
The man nods, brow knitting with the subject matter.
“When I pled guilty, my lawyer Wendy Valence and the prosecutor had a deal. The judge countered it. Said I was too much of a career criminal for a mere two year sentence in minimum security. So he gave me the maximum sentence... fifteen years... and in maximum security. Federal time isn’t too bad. But fifteen is a long, long time. And in maximum there’s the... you know... the thing that guys do when they’re too long away from their ladies.”
Homophobia, just as Kelly has been made aware. She knows to play it, that Wendy so informed.
“Long time to have to watch yourself in the showers,” Kelly smiles in agreement.
“Any of that at this place?”
“Yes, but it’s more or less consensual. And for you I think they’ll find quiet lodgings. You may even get some pussy, Mike. Possibly a lot.”
The crass words bring a sly smile, Mike the Muskrat for the first time seeming relaxed.
“I would hope. Wendy said it will cost me... everything I’ve got. That’s a lot of money, Kelly. I’d like to think I’ll be... you know... safe... and ah... made happy.”
“Oh, you’ll be well cared for, I assure you.”
