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She opens his door without knocking and leads me into the darkened room. Slipping my leash onto a hook she turns on a light.
There hangs Randy comfortably confined in Ms. Powers’ punishment harness. His under-developed body is naked, hands held behind his back, legs drawn up and secured to the belt encircling his waist. He is hooded, covering any looks of anguish. But his small penis is engorged and pointing toward the ceiling. Dangling between his knees are sizable weights, attached to his scrotum by way of clamps.
“Good evening, Randy. I’m going to let you down, would you like that?”
He nods as best he can.
“Yes, I’m going to have you spend the night in the harness. You may get some sleep. Or you may find the floor rather hard. It does not matter.”
She releases a rope tied to a wall fixture. Her powerful arms slowly lower the smaller male until his knees touch the floor. Ms. Powers towers above the prospective heir. When standing he is more than half a foot shorter than Ms. Powers. And his young life of profligacy has left him with little muscle structure. When the two stand side by side it is a comical juxtaposition... tall, puissant, imposing female versus the short, weak, and stooped male.
“I see you enjoyed the weights.”
Ms. Powers is pushing her foot against his erect penis as she speaks.
“Tomorrow you will tell me what you think about as you helplessly hang in my harness. Yes, you can talk between licks to my boots. I’m sure you’d like to share your fantasies. Thoughts of getting that backside reamed by some big stud? Hm? Or sucking on a nice sized uncircumcised penis?”
She laughs.
“Arthur tells me whe
re you like to be driven. Yes, I know about your little trips to New York. I understand you’re quite the hit at the gay clubs. Randy Randy, is that what they call you? Randy Randy with lots of money for sex and drugs.”
Ms. Powers lifts her foot then steps downward, pressing Randy’s erection into the carpet. She shifts her weight to slowly add pressure. Randy cries out.
“Yes, you protest. But if I was a big leather clad stud you’d be begging for more. Begging to be allowed to lick his shaft.”
She lifts her foot and applies a firm kick to Randy’s testicles. He lurches with pain and yelps. When he settles, the toe of Ms. Powers’ booted foot carefully maneuvers the small scrotal sac so that it lies on the carpet. Just as she pressured his erection, she begins to push downward with her toe.
“Such important organs.. yet so vulnerable. Hard to believe that the future of the Fatipton dynasty is contained herein. Small, pusillanimous, withered from disuse... rather pathetic, Randy.
“Tomorrow you’ll tell me everything. I’ll know when you’re lying so don’t think about anything but the truth. I’ll want to know names and places Randy, particularly where you get all that white powder you so generously spread around.”
She kicks again then turns out the light.
“Have a nice night,” she sarcastically coos as she releases my leash and firmly tugs.
She leads me out and shuts the door. The small room is windowless and Ms. Powers selected it for Randy after surveying the three dozen or so bedrooms at the mansion. She picked what was originally intended to be a laundry closet.
I marvel at the power and determination she displays. Her plan had better succeed, I think to myself, for in less than five years, when the estate is passed on, Ms. Powers will face the wrath of a very wealthy and enraged Randy.
It is late. Ms. Powers knows I need rest in order to properly lactate for Mr. Fatipton. Returning to Ms. Powers’ apartment, she removes the leash and points to her bedroom. I know the position to be assumed, lying on my side to await her.
I think about tomorrow when one of the many maids will take me to the fourth floor washroom. There she will shower me and shave what little of my hair has escaped the weekly electrolysis appointments. When finished, Ms. Powers will be summoned. She will callously inject me with hormones then inspect the expensive but highly effective iridescent powder. It is tantalizingly smoothed over my pudendum by the maid with a very soft and tickling brush. And I find it ironic that the application of the powder, intended to inhibit my masturbation, arouses me to the point of insatiable need. It is only the thought of Ms. Powers’ discipline that holds back my eager fingers.
On occasion one of the more mischievous maids toys with me while awaiting Ms. Powers’ arrival. Her fingers never undergo the black light so she can work my labia with impunity, then laugh when I have to face Ms. Powers in a most excited state.
When she arrives, the black light is turned onto the area surrounding my love nest. The glowing powder will easily be transferred to any fingers touching there so Ms. Powers must assure herself that it is thoroughly applied and the entrance to my pleasure hole will most definitely leave evidence of any penetrating digit or implement.
When I return to my room, I must be careful with what comes near my vulva, for Ms. Powers takes great joy in examining various objects and fixtures, black light in hand, to make sure I have not utilized them to friction myself. In my more aroused states I often fantasize about the smooth brass doorknob and how pleasurable it would be to bend and stuff the wonderfully shaped object between my lips. But I fear Ms. Powers shining her light there, and know that the punishment would be severe if it were to glow back.
Ms. Powers steps from her dressing room. She is naked except for a special leather belt. I stare at her finely developed body. She is marvelously proportioned with curves where a woman wants curves yet with evidence of strength, such as rippled abdominal muscles, not found on the average female anatomy.
In her hand is a vibrator. Her sexual needs are insatiable, and I know my sleep will be interrupted throughout the night with the sound of buzzing and a kick of her foot, the signal to resume licking.
Two straps hang from the rear of her belt. She reaches down and attaches them to my neck collar. She then lies on the bed facing away from me and pushes her fine buttocks toward me. As the crease between the rounded, muscled cheeks approaches my mouth, she pulls up the straps, shortening the distance between my face and her backside. When satisfied that my nose is firmly entrapped between her cheeks she buckles the straps. I will so spend the night, licking the rear bud of the potent Trustee of the Fatipton Estate. With the first application of my tongue she flips on her vibrator.
“I always wanted a nice white girl servicing my sphincter. You’ll lick until I sleep. And I don’t want to hear your bell.”
