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She took a step back as I struggled to arise and follow. The zucchini felt huge and the gravitational tugs of the dangling clothespins caused a strange sensation
on my nipples and penis. She continued walking backwards, pulling, watching and laughing as I tried to follow her and amazingly, I seemed to become even more aroused.
Up the stairs, around her house, the fear of someone arriving home unexpectedly added a dimension of excitement, probably as much for her as for me.
She relished her control and my complete humiliation. I was being led about by a girl my age. Naked. Bound. My anus stuffed and with the clothespins forcing my penis to stand harder than I ever imagined possible.
Up to the second floor we toured the bedrooms. At one point she feigned hearing a car in the driveway and laughed as I pulled in panic against her firm grip on the leash.
Then back to the main floor where she played by pulling upward, forcing me to walk about on my toes.
Finally, the dinner hour approached. It was back to the basement were she had me resume the preferred position of kneeling and bent backwards. When the familiar towel appeared I knew it was time. She draped it over my chest.
“Be a good boy and come for Eve.”
She held the necktie leash in one hand and began nudging the zucchini with her left toe, pressuring my prostate. My hands were still tied beneath me, making it impossible to stroke myself.
“Does this help?”
With her question she began jiggling the leash with her right hand, effectively fondling my testicles, and with her left raised her skirt, holding it to her waist. She was standing very close and with no underwear I had my first prolonged, unimpeded view of the excited female genitalia. When she stepped forward and straddled my waist, her flushed labia were inches from my face. The aroma of her own arousal filled my nostrils. With her legs spread, her trimmed pubic hair hid nothing from my overly curious teenaged mind.
“Come for me.”
She renewed pushing with her foot and jiggling the leash. My untouched penis exploded. The resulting sardonic laughter was the last time I heard Eve’s voice.
She slipped the knotted necktie off my wrists and hurriedly traversed the stairs, still laughing. By the time I removed my scrotal binding, extricated the zucchini, finished the ordeal of painfully unclasping the clothespins, and wiped away the remnants of my spending, I found that she had summarily tossed my hidden clothes down the stairs.
As I picked up my garments, a car was indeed pulling into the driveway. I quickly dressed and with zucchini in hand exited the side door as Eve’s mother entered the back.
D
James really does enjoy the harness. I watched him swing for a while then instructed Laitai to attach the parachute.
It was time to retreat to the observation dome with a carafe of Mimosas and watch the snow covered Rockies pass by. Alice was there and it gave us an opportunity to plan the details of James’ conversion. We spoke at length. I poured from the carafe and as usual our thoughts concerning James became aligned.
After a time, just as Jake had forewarned, our short train slowed. The tracks converged with a nearby road and formed a crossing point for U.S.-Canadian customs. There were cars stopped to await entry, and I wondered if Laitai would bother drawing down the blinds.
James had no clothing, so upon stopping I returned to the lounge to officiate our entry and find some covering for my pet, while our papers were reviewed.
I was too late. A large uniformed customs agent had entered by way of the observation deck door. She was standing before my naked James, as he hung blindfolded and deafened by the headphones. Judging from the aroused state of James’ penis, he was recalling or dreaming about some debaucherous event.
Laitai stood nearby in her customary white blouse, short leather skirt and high boots. The knowing smile on the agent’s face suggested there had been an exchange of comments.
Laitai spoke. “Ms. D, this is Agent Rawlings. Our engineer apparently radioed ahead as to the size, nature and purpose of our traveling party.”
Agent Rawlings was close to six foot tall with massive shoulders. Even facial features, blue eyes and wisps of blond hair stubbornly escaping from under her cap indicated that under the bright red uniform was a large yet appealing woman. She seemed undaunted by the sight of James and asked for our passports in a calm and professional manner.
She moved to the bar and began stamping away. She spoke, anticipating my question.
“Jake suggested there was no problem with your group and an expedited approval would be appreciated. Many of the spa’s visitors use this crossing point. It’s nicely secluded for the likes of James.”
She referred to my helpless, free-swinging plaything with a degree of disdain. And as I watched her large hands shuffle through the paperwork, I could not help trying to envision what this sizable and powerful woman did for recreation. As a psychologist, I understood the make up of females who had a proclivity for uniforms and Agent Rawlings fit the typical profile.
She returned our documents then stepped face to face with James who continued to docilely hang without knowledge of her presence. She surveyed his naked flesh then reached forward and viciously pinched his left nipple with a simultaneous twist. James groaned but his semi-erect penis also waggled in a most submissive response. Agent Rawlings was peering down at my toy’s phallus and after watching it obediently bob about and grow in size, she turned to me with a look of satisfaction.
“Yes, he’ll enjoy the spa.”
Then she bid good day. As she stepped out the door, the back of her uniform revealed a broad expanse of red cloth stretched flat from shoulder to shoulder by her underlying muscles, impressing upon me the nature of her unusually powerful physique beneath.
