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She guided my hand downward. Whatever it was, I signed. And signed again. And signed again. I had no choice. But I pondered, if given the choice would I have refused?
The static returned. I felt my bladder empty with a gush. My apprehension passed. With the relief my mind seemed eager to return to a far away land.
D
I left the apartment with the papers in hand.
First I stopped at the bank and opened the joint checking account.
Then I visited the lottery office with the winning ticket. James had endorsed it but I produced the power of attorney and an instruction letter from James. When the officials understood that he did not want a check but instead desired to have the funds wire transferred to his account every month, they were agreeable.
No one asked if it was a joint account and I did not offer.
Groceries were next. James would need oranges in a couple of days.
Lastly, my storage locker.
Years of collecting and experimenting had left me much equipment and with limited space in my apartment. And besides, I did not wish to scare off vanilla lovers with a wall draped with whips, crops, spreader bars, etc.
So it was all in storage and whenever I visited, wonderfully kinky memories came to mind.
I gathered up paraphernalia conducive for use in a train car including one of my favorites, a suspension harness. James would look deliciously sweet swinging with the swaying of the moving train. The familiar feeling of moisture between my thighs developed.
I returned to my apartment. The nourishment bags would need to be replaced. Another subliminal message tape needed to be fabricated. I also decided to read a good book. James did need to be monitored and watching between chapters as my nourishment dripped into his stomach and bowels was soothing.
James
I was amazed at my own recollections. The mind sharpens when completely isolated and is not burdened even with the smallest of functions, such as moving a limb or digit.
Eve had me back in the mink cage. This time my sister was not around. Mother had taken her to the dentist.
Another game was being played and she tricked me into the cage again. I made certain the lock was not present and, before agreeing to step in, had searched everywhere for it. She assured me everything was okay.
But again she took advantage and the lock appeared from some hiding place. This time I was doubly embarrassed. Not only captured by a girl, but allowing it to happen being fully aware of her penchant for this peculiar form of play.
She began to laugh at my distress.
“Is your bump going to show?” she taunted.
And I hated myself when my young penis did indeed begin to engorge, and she laughed more.
This time she just stepped back and watched with a smile and a look of curiosity. Too late, I found out there was no other part to the game. Just her looking at my forlorn face and my growing bump.
After several minutes she made a suggestion.
“Show me what’s under there, James. Then I’ll unlock the cage.”
I guess I had deleted the incident from my memory, or tried to. I had not recalled it since childhood.
“Show me, James. Let me see it.”
I couldn’t move.
“Show me what causes the bump.”
Children get to know each other very well. And I knew Eve. She wouldn’t change her mind and release me. That I understood.
She threatened to go out to the neighborhood and bring others to look at me. She knew the bump was not under my control and would remain until she returned.
