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She is correct as always. The harness is most comfortable and I swing helplessly with the gentle motion of the train.
As expected the butt plug is next. She has come to know my aperture very well and the narrow rubber tube effortlessly slides into my rectum. Three rapid squeezes expand the plug and it fills my lower colon. Again my erection seems to harden more. I look down to see prostatic fluid begin to form on the tip.
D returns to my front and again surveys her work.
“I think you’re going to enjoy the trip. You won’t be needing these.”
She picks up my garments and steps behind me. I hear the door to the outdoor platform open. I feel a draft of cold air. I hear the door close.
My clothing has been donated to the next Amtrak maintenance crew, which happens along the track. The closet of the master bedroom comes to mind, filled with D’s garments and none of mine.
‘Let D take charge’, a comforting inner voice again suggests. And my alter ego retorts, ‘what choice is there now?’
“Hood time, James. I want to finish watching the movie.”
As D slides the covering over my head she graciously and tenderly smoothes her fingers over my face. I strain to kiss her hands.
Then I feel the headphones being placed over my ears. She has not left anything behind. I return to my dark world of static.
D
Such a good boy, James, calmly hanging, naked and erect as I sip more Champagne. The ‘man spreader’ is packed, but not far away. Maybe I’ll entertain him with it after the movie and a nap. Then he’ll serve me a nice dinner.
We’re scheduled to arrive in St. Paul at 10:25 p.m. where Alice and Laitai will join us. From there it is onwards to Montana where our cars will be separated from the Amtrak train, and we’ll await our own locomotive to take us into Canada.
Without clothing for James, getting through customs will be a hurdle, but I’m sure something can be arranged...
James
There is something unusually titillating about full body suspension and the male anatomy. With the straps comfortably holding my weight, my spinal cord sends peculiar signals of pleasure to my lower body. My erection seems to flourish and feels as if it is no longer connected to me. It just juts forth and gently wags with the motion of the train. With the shifting car the position of my butt plug continuously pressures my prostate. Licentious reminiscences cannot be avoided...
I think about the two young girls who peered at me through the moving train windows as we left Union Station. In displaying my nakedness and my tumescence, I became sickened by my arousal and I again think about Eve.
Eve has the camera. We have retreated to the backyard corridor, which we frequent in order to engage in forbidden childhood behavior. It is Saturday morning. I have silently lowered my trousers. Eve no longer has to command such, but this time she wants my shoes and socks removed and after giving the command she waits with a look of impatience. Never within her authoritative demeanor is there a hint of concern that I will not do her bidding. And that’s what always made it so easy for me.
‘Of course you’re going to remove your shoes and socks, silly. Eve told you to’. My subconscious speaks and justifies my odd penchant to comply. And I fin
d myself obeying without hesitation.
As I bend to do so, I hear the first click of the camera. I am surprised, thinking that Eve would just want to highlight that part of the male anatomy that most interested her.
But afterwards, I realized, she wanted a collage of me performing for her. Obeying. Responding to direction. There could later be no doubt that I was reacting to her and the camera. With a stand alone photo someone could subsequently argue it merely represented an isolated snapshot of an unsuspecting adolescent in a solitary embarrassing incident. But with a sequence, no such explanation could prevail.
No. The devious Eve was going to have a scrap book of James. An obedient James. A naked James. An erect James. A masturbating James! And it would begin with me taking off various articles of clothing under her direction. And end...where?
My penis was turgid, of course. Both Eve and I had come to expect that. And after my shoes and socks were cast aside she instructed me to step out of my lowered trousers and under pants which encircled my ankles.
The camera clicked as I set the garments atop my shoes. She paused to let the film eject and the ‘ready’ light to return to green.
“Show me again how you make it shrink, James. I liked that.”
And I did. Standing nude from the waist downward I worked my hands and fingers. The camera clicked. Again. And again.
Eve was laughing but managed to hold the lens steady. And when she moved in for a close-up of the purple, enraged tip, I closed my eyes in shame. In doing so, I once more visualized Eve. Again it was not my hand so vigorously pumping my young penis. It was Eve’s. She was manipulating and controlling my appendage and my body and my mind.
The clicks seemed to come in an endless progression and then...it happened. That familiar yet overwhelming wave of pleasure, the sensation of my legs weakening, and then Eve let out a disgusted ‘Yuk!’ as the camera clicked once more. I felt wetness.
I opened my eyes. For the first time a white goo had erupted as a result of my firm, feverish strokes and Eve’s camera managed to capture this seemingly strange event. That Saturday morning a boy’s puberty had manifested itself and, by happenstance, this unyielding, dominant young girl witnessed my passage into manhood, the sight of my genitals spewing the effluent of life.
