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Jasmine noticed my reaction.]
“Yes. Lady Constance likes to show off Boy’s attributes. She’s thinking of having his tongue tattooed. But the color hasn’t yet been selected.”
[Jasmine returned to the preparation table and picked up a strip of cloth with several cords attached. When she held it between her hands, the cords hung down about a foot and had rings at the ends.]
“It’s Boy’s scrotal parachute. Custom made to firmly hold the sac and yet be comfortable. He’ll wear it for hours, and the cloth will not pinch the sensitive skin.”
[Jasmine touched the freely hanging scrotum and satisfied herself that the paint was dry. She then wrapped the cloth strip around the base of the sac just below the penis and folded over the ends, which adhered utilizing Velcro. Next she pulled up a cord from the winch at the rear of the table. A sturdy hook at the end of the cord was threaded through the half dozen rings on the smaller cords dangling from the parachute. With several turns of the winch, Jasmine tightened the large cord and Boy’s scrotum was slowly pulled back. It was quite a sight watching the massive bag of red flesh slowly unfold, and Jasmine mercilessly continued turning until the cord was taut and the sac was pulled far from the base of the penis.
Boy finally groaned in agony, Jasmine gave the winch another quarter turn and smiled.]
“Only a few hours until play time, Boy. Lady Constance will be very pleased with your pretty makeup.”
[Tears formed which Jasmine gently and professionally dabbed away with a gauze pad as she watered Boy’s tongue and inserted the straw into his throat.]
“I’m afraid the remainder of the day will appear to be somewhat boring, Doctor. Males in severe bondage are constantly monitored to ensure safety and that the torment is prolonged as much as possible. In stretching the tongue, it is important to keep it moist, as you’ve noticed, and Boy is not permitted to urinate without female supervision. So I stay nearby, sometimes reading sometimes just watching the agony slowly build. The stretching is wonderfully effective. It provides a level of torment that relentlessly accumulates. Just when Boy becomes accustomed to the pain, I give each winch a slight a turn. He knows I’ll never provide relief. He can only hope for Lady Constance, and when she calls for him, he’ll be as eager as a puppy to serve her.
“When Lady Constance wishes to introduce him to her guest, he’ll be released. I believe she’ll want him wearing a genital harness. It’s a simple belt worn around the waist and highlights the complete subjugation of the male. The flaccid penis is pulled upward and attached to the belt utilizing the infibulation wire. The testicles are pulled back between the thighs utilizing a modest strap encircling the base of the scrotum and attached to the back of the waist belt. As you can imagine it projects a very submissive image of the male and provides for a wonderfully depraved rear view of his gonads helplessly suspended between his buttocks. Mary’s makeup efforts should provide much amusement, and I’m sure Lady Constance’s guest will be pleased.
“So I await for Lady Constance to summon and occasionally check to make sure the pain is steady and constant. The winches are adjusted every half hour or so. So what appears boring to most, keeps me tremendously aroused. I wouldn’t trade my job for anything.”
[Mary packed her things and gave Jasmine a look of combined envy and admiration as she bid her adieu. I used her departure as a stopping point. The interview ended.]
Chapter Three
Flight to Europe
January 28, 1998
The trip over the Atlantic gives me time to reflect and add to the “Boy” chronicle.
The puffy, white clouds slowly sliding under the plane have a relaxing effect. My mind wanders a bit, then two other noteworthy contacts with Lady Constance come to mind, while she was in New York. With note pad nearby, I record my recollections.
After the intervi
ew, as I endeavored to leave Jasmine’s company, Lady Constance was entering the hotel room. With her was a well-dressed, distinguished looking gentleman who I judged to be in his early forties. The casual observer would assume he was a successful businessman perhaps with a pretty wife, a home in the suburbs and lovely children. Except this “suburban husband” held in his hand a leash, and the casual observer would be shocked to find the hooded but otherwise naked form of a genderless being at the other end.
Lady Constance introduced me and as requested his name shall remain unknown. But the leashed, gentle beast was called Chris, and it was never elucidated as to whether the diminutive was for Christopher or Christine.
The only opening in the smooth, black, shiny leather hood was at the mouth and nose, where a ring of sizable gauging deeply pierced the septum. There is where the leash attached, and Mr. Suburban used it to expertly guide Chris around the hotel room. It was evident that the naked android spent much time under the hood for “it” followed the slightest of tugs very carefully.
Chris’ arms and hands were encased behind the back in a single glove of matching black leather. I wondered whether the girl/boy was double jointed in that the single glove held the elbows incredibly close together which served to force forward the chest.
There, two nipples, cruelly clamped with small weights attached, adorned a hairless, smooth breastplate. The mammaries were small, if they could be termed such and further spurred the observer’s curiosity concerning gender. But when the eyes shifted downward in a final attempt to arrive at a conclusion, a triangular patch of matching black leather covered the pubes. Small bulges were discernible. But were they formed by a clitoris, freed by way of a circumcised hood, and protruding labia..., or by an underdeveloped penis and pusillanimous testicles? It was not possible to determine.
The legs provided no clues. Hairless. Effeminate, yes, but they could have belonged to a young male. The cruelty of Chris’ state of servitude is given further evidence by more rings. Mr. Suburban is ardent in his methods of restraint. For piercing the ankles between bone and Achilles tendon are thick stainless steel rings.
I had read of Roman slaves being pierced in such a manner. The advantage to such extremeness being that moderate but firm pressure instantly caused the calf muscles to painfully and spasmodically contract and cause the slave to collapse. Thus the strongest and largest of male slaves could be controlled by the most delicate of Roman noblewomen. And when the ankle rings were chained or otherwise restrained, attempts to resist the diabolical form of bondage were met with painful and continuous muscle spasms. Thus, a clever Mistress could ensure the docility of a recalcitrant slave by placing him in any desired position and be assured he would remain properly secured by the ankle rings.
An ancient diagram of a kneeling slave receiving a flogging from his smiling Mistress came into my memory. I remembered reading about the clever utility provided by the method of restraint. Any movement in reacting to the sting of the whip resulted in more pain from pressure on the encroached tendons and muscles. Thus, a mental game ensued where the slave endeavored to remain perfectly still while the Mistress was challenged to encourage him to thrash about and add to his own torment. I always wondered how far the superior Roman woman would go with her gamesmanship, for stroking certain well exposed parts of the male anatomy were sure to cause convulsive movements of the legs.
My recollection was interrupted when Mr. Suburban sat down, and Chris obediently knelt following the leash downward. I then noticed two more rings of similar size pierced each buttock. Judging from the circumference and the portion of the rings that were exposed to view, it appeared that the rings were deeply set into the epidermis. Obviously not casual piercings performed by the novice, I concluded that they were surgically implanted and just as with the ankle rings were designed to snare the gluteus maximus and thereby cause a similar spasmodic reaction when tugged.
Mr. Suburban’s devious smile and a telltale bulge in the front of his pressed slacks caused me to picture the kneeling Chris, forehead touching the carpet, single glove held high above by a cord, ankles secured well apart. Master’s firm hands grasp each buttock ring and Chris instantly opens for penetration. The muscles of the buttocks, normally able to assist the anus in denying sexual assault, helplessly part, with Chris succumbing to the inevitable and avoiding painful attempts to clench and resist Master’s grip on the rings.
Mr. Suburban unhooked the leash and a double “D” clamp was attached to the two ankle rings. With ankles attached and arms well restrained, Chris humbly knelt motionless and in blind silence.
“Do we still need these?” Mr. Suburban inquired, about the nipple clamps.
