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“Up. Show the Doctor your nice plump belly.”
[Boy slowly straightened at the waist, remaining on his knees. As the soapsuds glided down his wet body, his distended stomach came into view. It was apparent that the pressure stimulated the prostate and caused his penis to be partially engorged. The tight, infibulating wire was performing its function admirably in painfully preventing full tumescence. With his blurred contact lenses, he just stared into space, docilely accepting what for him was a daily ritual, but for me was fascinating grist for my writing mill.
A knock came on the door. Jasmine moved to the far end of the room to open it. Her extensive muscling allowed her to seemingly float across the room, and I again found myself transfixed by the flex and roll in her naked calves and thighs.]
“Hello, Mary. You’re a little early for us.”
[A young woman stepped into the tiled room. The absence of any reaction to Boy’s naked, wet and kneeling form told me she was familiar with his situation. She was uniformed in white and carried a bag stuffed, judging from the protruding electrical cords, with various appliances.
She was pretty with angelic features. Her demur temperament and dutiful nod in response to Jasmine’s greeting indicated she was most likely a low level employee. I was most impressed by her level of comfort with the unusual scene. Whereas most girls her age would be shocked or repulsed, the sight of Boy seemed to bring a pleasant smile and a look of satisfaction to her otherwise expressionless face.]
“Boy is going to be milked, Mary. You’ll find it interesting if you care to stay. You can make him presentable while he’s being iced.”
[Mary’s smile broadened with the suggestion, and she placed her bag on the table next to Jasmine’s paraphernalia.
Jasmine returned to her duties and doused Boy with the spray hose. The rinsing removed the last remnants of soap, and he appeared to be more naked than ever..., wet, hands placed on top of his head, not even a neck collar for covering.
Jasmine stepped back to survey her work. I wondered if she concluded the same..., a male in the most submissive of states, skin cleansed to a noticeable pink color, intestines filled at the behest of a woman, penis entrapped and adorned with the trinkets of his mistress, stretched scrotum swinging, docilely kneeling and displayed totally naked..., he symbolized the ultimate power of the female.
The brief respite ended when Jasmine toyed with the hose emanating from Boy’s backside, while Mary retrieved various items from her bag and set them out on the table. My curiosity was satisfied when I spied a hair dryer, nail polish and various other cosmetics being placed on the table. Mary was a cosmetician.]
“Give Mary a proper hello, Boy. No spillage.”
[Jasmine deflated the nozzle and carefully slid it from Boy’s anus. As the tip slowly exited, Boy comically clenched his hairless, rounded cheeks in obediently holding what must have been a considerable quantity of water. I stifled my laughter as he crawled toward Mary with his buttocks in the described state. He knew Jasmine was serious with her command and judging from the bloated belly the pressure must have been considerable.
Mary patiently waited. Experience told her not to move toward him, and when I was able to peel my eyes from Boy’s ungainly efforts to crawl, I l
ooked into the face of a young, dominant woman. Gone was the look of young innocence, for Mary was very amused with Boy’s plight. Her contentment with his discomfort, along with an eager anticipation of possible seepage from Boy’s overfilled bowels, was evident on her face. In a subtle symbol of authority, Mary moved her right foot forward and offered words of feigned encouragement. When Boy’s humiliating journey ended, he lowered his head and kissed her proffered foot.
In reward, Mary tousled his hair.]
“I’m going to make you very pretty today, Boy. Lady Constance has a special visitor and he wants you highlighted in red.”
[Jasmine called Boy back to the shower area. The return trip was negotiated somewhat more quickly, for he knew it was time to expel the sloshy contents of his bowels.
With Jasmine closely supervising, Boy positioned himself over a large drain, squatted and patiently waited with an extraordinary look of anticipation. When Jasmine snapped her fingers, Boy’s rectum reacted instantly and a torrent began. Incredibly, Jasmine snapped again and Boy somehow cut off the flow. She waited for a minute then snapped, and Boy completed emptying himself. There seemed to be nothing that Jasmine did not or could not control.
Satisfied that all had been expelled, Jasmine again turned on the hose..., apparently this time to a very cold setting for Boy noticeably jumped as the spray cleansed his backside. But it also soaked his penis and testicles with the presumed ice cold water, and the partially engorged phallus began to shrink.]
“Table!”
[A simple command sent Boy scurrying to an odd, stainless steel table. The bright, room lights reflected from the shiny metal and provided a beacon for the blinded, naked hermaphrodite, for he crawled to it without hesitation and positioned himself kneeling on all fours. The height of the surface of the table placed him so that his head was just above the level of Jasmine’s waist. But it was not the level that was unusual but the four raised edges. I had seen similar equipment at seafood stores where fish and other perishables were displayed resting on beds of shaved ice. This table could serve in such a capacity, for it was pitched and drained at one end and the edges could hold in place ice or liquids.
There were also the numerous restraint devices, which added to its curiosity. And Boy docilely positioned his wrists and ankles close to straps attached to the sides.]
“Boy doesn’t like the table, Doctor, but he knows to obey. This is where I keep him stretched to Lady Constance’s liking. Without an occasional few hours strapped down and being stretched, the tongue and scrotum would shrink somewhat. And we wouldn’t want that..., would we Boy?
No. Lady Constance enjoys a certain look in her cute, submissive toy. And it’s easily maintained.”
[Jasmine’s comments explained the small winches attached to the front and rear edges of the table. I envisioned Boy struggling for the appointed period of time with his tongue clamped and pulled by the front winch, and his scrotum cradled by the diabolical parachute and pulled by the winch to the rear.
I had read of certain cultures where modifying the body was prevalent and remembered learning that it was a slow and time-consuming process. Boy must have spent many hours of many days being stretched to achieve Lady Constance’s desired results. But, time was of little consequence to Boy’s powerful tormentress. For Lady Constance, the longer and slower the process was the better. For Jasmine, it was just another pleasant day of humiliating the male. For Boy, well..., it didn’t matter. His body was not his to control.
Jasmine deftly attached the straps to Boy’s wrists and ankles effectively making him part of the table. She then left the room, and I could not take my eyes off the amazing gluteus maximus muscles, which rippled with power as she strode to an adjoining kitchen area.
Meanwhile, Mary began her work. Starting with his hair, still wet from Jasmine’s cleansing, she cut and styled it, gracefully combing and snipping to ensure Boy’s effeminate appearance.
Then she retrieved a small stool, positioned it to Boy’s right side, sat down and started to manicure. Jasmine returned with a bucket full of wet shaved ice.]
