A Gift From James Page 3

  “Not tonight, James. Robert and I made love for a good part of the evening and I don’t think you’d like what your tongue would encounter. Robert’s had vasectomy, you see.”

  Why do I find this so disconcerting? When a woman dresses to kill but chooses not to wear undergarments, there’s only one conclusion that can be drawn concerning her expectations. And D has to get in another dig regarding the vasectomy.

  She finishes her business. I am collared and she tests the leash with some gentle tugs.

  Then I feel her working about my feet. The headphones are removed and my wrists released.

  “Bring your hands down to your waist slowly for me, James. Yes, that’s a good boy.”

  She fiddles with something then I feel a strong tug on my neck collar.

  “Come,” is her pleasant but firm command.

  It feels wonderful being free. Still hooded, I sit up to follow the leash and through various tugs determine that she wants me on all fours. That’s when I find my wrist cuffs to be tethered. Not tightly. But some type of cord runs from wrist to wrist, which allows only limited motion. Then as she pulls toward the end of the bed I find my ankle cuffs to be similarly tethered. I can move but such is quite limited.

  “Stay on all fours now, James. It’s safer. Your hands and feet are restrained. If you try to stand you may fall.”

  She draws me to the edge of the bed and stops. Her fragrance is strong and when she places one hand behind my head and gently guides it down and forward, the aroma of her sex fills my nostrils and I feel the heat of her abdomen. D is naked. I thrust forward my tongue, find the flat smooth flesh at the top of her well-trimmed pubes. I lick.

  “You are a randy one, James. But I don’t think you’ll like what your tongue finds. Come. Down. Be careful.”

  Realizing that I am to vacate her bed, I lean down until my hands find the soft carpet of the floor. I then lower my feet and feel the leash tighten as soon as I resume my position on hands and knees.

  “Come. Follow the leash.”

  I comply. It has been a long evening. I figure if I obey, D will have her fun then I’ll be released. She said she is also tired. Therefore my freedom is close.

  I am wrong.

  She seems to take great relish in guiding me about the apartment at the end of her leash. I become embarrassed by my reaction. I tumefy. Yes. My erection returns and I attribute it to her strong scent, which seems to be getting stronger with the proximity of what I know to be her naked body. But the butt plug also works its magic. Crawling about reawakens the odd pleasurable sensations which I’m sure assists in my tumescence.

  Finally, after several rounds, she seems satisfied. On the last lap I do not bump into anything, and she coos some compliments about my quick reaction to tugs and commands.

  That’s when I heard some loud clanks and felt my hands and knees being guided over a low threshold. The tension on the leash disappears. I feel her loosen my wrists.

  “Spread your arms for me.”

  I do and am shocked to feel the bars of the huge dog cage.

  D unsnaps the leash and tugs on my hood. I attempt to move my hands to assist her and find they are secured. She peels off the latex covering and as dim as the lights are, my eyes still hurt from the lengthy period of darkness.

  “You’ll have to get used to having your hands restrained, James. Naughty boys are known to masturbate and that’s not allowed.”

  Before my eyes can focus, I hear a laugh. It is the same male voice I heard so many hours ago. Mr. Dinnerdate!

  I flush with rage. D’s game has gone too far. She has lead me about her apartment naked and on all fours while her male friend watched. Instinctively, I pull on my arms only to be reminded that D has clipped the soft but strong wrist cuffs to the bars, left and right.

  My eyes adjust and I look up to focus on the beautiful, completely naked form of D. Across the room is the smiling Mr. Dinnerdate. And my inner rage grows more when I realize he is just as I have imagined. Tall. Athletic. Well dressed. Well groomed.

  I begin a verbal tirade in protest but before I adequately express my anger, D reaches into the cage with her fist, gathers my nose between the slot of her middle and ring fingers, and twists. The pain jolts me and my words of protest turn to a pitiful yelp.

  “Behave yourself, James. Robert is a guest. You’re going to have a long night if I have to gag you.”

  Bound and naked. Well restrained and locked in a cage. My feeling of helplessness overcomes the venting of my anger. I return to silence.

  Robert, who had been insouciantly leaning on a dresser, steps forward.

  “Time to go, Sweets.”

  He tenderly kisses D, gives her naked, perfectly rounded buttocks a tender squeeze then turns to me.

  “Have a good night, stud.”

  He reaches between the bars, tousles my hair and softly chuckling, calmly sashays out. D laughs at my obvious look of disdain.

  “We will work on your manners, James.”

  With that I hear the front door click shut. D moves to the front of the cage. My face is inches from her sex and despite my anger, I feel my erection stir. Incredibly, my penis has remained engorged during the entire ordeal. D leans over to look for herself. She too notices my stiffness and smiles.

  “You doth protest too much, James.”

  With her paraphrase of Shakespeare, her fingers disappear between her thighs. When they return they glisten in the light, covered with Robert’s semen and her own lubrication.

  She then mischievously coats my nose, lips and chin. She takes her time, as if applying makeup and twice returns to her love nest for more in order to paint my cheeks and forehead. The realization that her sex has been abundantly filled by Mr. Dinnerdate makes me seethe, but my silence is mandated.

  “Tomorrow, James, you’re going to learn many things. Manners included.”

  She steps to the rear of the cage and grasps my testicles. Using my organs as leverage, her free hand begins to pull on my butt plug.

  “Push for me.”

  I comply and the large rubber implement is expelled with a plop.

  “If you have to go during the night, do so. It is you who will clean out the cage.”

  She turns off the light and enters the bathroom. The running water tells me she is cleansing herself. For the remainder of the night, I will smell like the sex organ of an aroused female, while trying my best to sleep in the steel cage. She will sleep refreshingly cleansed resting in her comfortable bed.

  D

  Sleeping was difficult. I was as giddy as a schoolgirl looking at James kneeling in his cage with that forlorn puppy dog look.

  Yes, James, you’re going to provide that gift. And more.

  Feeling Robert’s massive phallus splitting my tight vaginal lips while gazing at my naked pet was exquisite. The power and control combined with the sensation of a hot, rock hard manhood frictioning my precious love pot sent me into heaven. And Robert! He has possibilities. He seemed to enjoy watching me tug on James’ leash and lead him about. Some men like a controlling female but just don’t want to be controlled. So for Robert, I guess, I put on quite a show with my performing animal, James. And his obnoxious laugh certainly obtained results. As angry and as frustrated as James became, his erection stiffened when he suddenly comprehended the humiliation he underwent for Robert’s amusement. I remind myself, the penis is a barometer, and James’ little instrument forecasted some amusing ‘weather’.

  Tomorrow, Dr. Alice is flying in from St. Paul. She’s getting ready for our trip and wants to introduce herself to James. That should be interesting, James meeting the woman who will permanently alter his fate...

  James

  Sleeping was difficult. There was foam padding in the bottom of the cage but my weight caused my knees to push right through to the hard steel surface below. Besides, humans don’t usually sleep on all fours.

  After an hour or so, I learned that I could twist to one side, lower my hips and lie down, desp
ite my wrists being secured. It was then that I slept.

  Sometime in the middle of the night D arose. She went to the bathroom, came out and threw a blanket into the cage. A bowl of water was retrieved from the kitchen. When she slid it through a small slot in front I craned my head as far as I could and kissed her hand in gratitude. She smiled knowingly, patted my head and returned to bed.

  I awoke often. The blanket had slipped away and did not quite cover me. Frustratingly, I was unable to right it with my wrists secured. Not only was my position uncomfortable, but I was hungry. D had not provided dinner. I found myself lapping from the bowl to stave the sounds of my growling stomach.

  Finally, as the bedroom began to glow with the rising sun, I again awoke and instinctively knew that I could not return to sleep. The hunger pains combined with the awkward position just would not allow me further rest.

  So I returned to my kneeling position and watched D sleep. She was gorgeously angelic in slumber. Her rich black hair flowed over her pillow framing a face, which in its quiescence seemed to have been chiseled by a master sculptor. She stirred from time to time and for awhile the sheets fell away and exposed to my gaze her breasts. Perfectly formed, not small not large, I recalled the first time this beautiful kinky woman permitted me to indulge in their charms, licking and nibbling at nipples I found to be wonderfully tactile.

  Then I felt deep in my lower belly the twinge of that magic male valve, and when I looked down could once again watch my penis slowly stiffen. Looking at it caused its swelling to hasten and I realized how randy I had become, tumefying even without the aid of the butt plug.

  So there I knelt. Calmly waiting for D to end her somnolence. Wondering when I would be fed and what strange things I would have to endure in order to be relieved of my abundant hormones. And my bladder filled once more...

  D

  On Saturdays I let myself sleep late. And on this Saturday, I slept well.

  With the morning light, I twice awoke to catch a glimpse of James patiently kneeling in his cage waiting for me. With such a comforting vision of my power and control, I rolled over and soundly slept more.

  I knew he was hungry, having deliberately not fed him the night before. I also knew that he could not bring himself to soil the padding in the cage. Therefore, when I rolled over I imagined a very hungry and bladder-filled James eagerly greeting me when I chose to arise. I flushed with the thought and re-entered a deep sleep.

  Finally, with the bright morning sun illuminating the bedroom, I glanced at my clock. It was after 9:00 a.m. and there were things to do.

  Dr. Alice’s plane was scheduled for a noon landing and James did require attention.

  I sleep in the nude so when I slid out of bed I knew James would get quite the show. But I was not shy, and adding to his torment was enjoyable. He could look but that was all. I wondered when he would realize that his little penis would not be entering me for quite some time.

  Well, better to let the anticipation linger, I thought to myself. His training will progress much better with the eventual expectation of copulation. Which he will have, but under new terms. My terms.

  So I eased myself out of bed and gave the puppy a gracious smile. His eyes followed and I was happy to find that my command of silence was being obeyed. Slowly I walked to the bathroom. I knew he likes my breasts and to my amusement he’s already stiff. My tape seems to be working, I think to myself, and after only two sessions. My analysis is correct. James is quite susceptible to subliminal suggestion.

  I leave the bathroom door open and urinate providing more suggestive sounds. Then the show ends as I don my robe and return to the cage.

  “How about a walk?” I suggest, knowing that cramped muscles must be exercised.

  He nods eagerly and I pick up his hood, collar and leash from the dresser. That reminds me of my harness, which lies close by in the top drawer of the dresser.

  Yes. An ominous message, I think to myself. I retrieve my favorite toy and step to the cage. There I wordlessly hang the harness on the front corner. Firmly attached to it is the ‘man stretcher’, my pet name for one of the largest rubber phalli obtainable.

  It’s deliciously evil, and James looks at it with despair. Did I hear him gulp?

  But he’s not ready for it yet. Days of stretching and opening his backside still need to be undertaken.

  Some would find it strange that he cooperates as I slide his hood back over his head. But what choice has he? No hood, no walk. There’s no urgency for me to open the cage. The urgency is for him.

  So again he is hooded, then collared and once he’s sightless, rearranging his wrist cuffs is effortless. And even if he struggled, the cage is well pad locked.

  When I tether the wrists I provide a connecting cord which is less than a foot long. Same with the ankles. It serves as a constant reminder that he’s in bondage, since almost every movement is restricted by the short cords. It provides for a wonderfully humiliating crawl, since he can only advance his knees and hands by the short length of the cord. And off course, provides an element of security for me, should James decide to prematurely end our little game.

  I lead him around the apartment for a time, then take him into the bathroom. There the bathtub serves as a likely place for ablutions and grooming. He struggles somewhat to crawl in, but I assist with pulls on the leash.

  “Just use the tub James. Do your business then I’ll wash you down, shave your pubes and we’ll select a nice sized insertion for you. My doctor friend will be visiting. I want you presentable.”

  James

  Emptying my bladder while lying supine was difficult. Kneeling in the tub was surprisingly easy. I guess I was becoming accustomed to D’s control. She stood by and encouraged both acts of excretion and again sounded like a mother, this time potty training a toddler. I felt myself redden with the embarrassment, but I needed to relieve myself.

  Afterwards, she turned on the shower and gently soaped my entire body while the remnants of my bodily functions disappeared down the drain. She had wonderfully skilled and soft hands and took her time washing every nook and cranny. My cuffs got wet but she suggested that I not be concerned.

  “Plenty more sets to work with,” she commented.

  My groin and anus were left for last, and she attacked those areas with an aggressive application of soap and firm hands and fingers. It didn’t take much for my erection to return and when she inserted two fingers into my pliant rectum, I felt my already stiff penis spasm.

  “My, my James. You are the randy one today.”

  With my scrotum well coated with soap, I next felt the glide of a razor. She moved me about, even having me roll to my left side then instructed me to raise my right thigh. This exposed me completely and I heard her laughing while she quickly worked the sharp instrument. Quite deftly. And when she smoothed her hand over the finished surface, I could tell from the lack of friction that she once again turned my pubic area and scrotum into a surface resembling a baby’s buttocks.

  Again I asked myself where she would have acquired such a skill. Shaving one’s self in such an area is difficult enough, but to be able to so quickly shave another, with speed and without mishap, is most curious.

  She guided me back onto all fours and rinsed me. Then there was the application of a large fluffy towel and she gently and affectionately dried me. A slow crawl back to the cage followed.

  D

  Treatises on submission suggest that even the most basic bodily functions should be controlled and supervised. Having James relieve himself in my tub with my verbal encouragement is just part of a process. Not exactly sensuous, but observing James reach for the mental fortitude to perform for me is not only entertaining, but is a necessary function of his subjugation.

  Back in the cage I replace his wet wrist and ankle cuffs with dry ones. I again secure his wrists to the sides. This time I have him spread his legs and also secure each ankle cuff to bars on the side of the cage. This separates the buttocks and leaves
his testicles hanging freely and deliciously exposed. I leave his collar and hood in place. Observing my nakedness will become a rare treat in the near future and I wish to dress without affording him any further sultry glimpses. And without sight, he’ll also listen better.

  James needed to be fed and I needed to bath and prepare for a trip to the airport. I spoon some mush into his mouth, again controlling a basic function, then decide to begin a very important part of his transformation.

  Something as simple as an orange can be very helpful. Having purchased a half dozen large and juicy navel oranges, I cut four slits into one, from top to bottom, and hang it on a string in James’ cage.

  “Something for you to eat,” I suggest. “You’ll find an orange hanging just in front of your nose. If you’re patient, you can hold the surface by sucking it with your lips, then extract the juice and pulp by working your tongue through the slits. Enjoy.”

  Little did James realize that the oral strength and dexterity needed to eat an orange by sucking out its contents without use of his hands would greatly facilitate his oral skills. His cunnilingus was adequate. But I wanted perfection and stamina and he would develop it.

  Hunger dictated that he make the attempt. And I became satisfied with his initial efforts. Just holding the large sphere in place so that his tongue can penetrate the slits is difficult. But to collect the juice and gather up the pulp will require much practice. Fortunately, I have many oranges and James has much time.

  The hanging orange also imbues James with the ability to properly position his head while performing cunnilingus. Standing before the kneeling, naked male while he obsequiously parts my labia with a strong but supple tongue can be a deliciously powerful sensation. Thus, I want his neck muscles well acclimated in order to maintain such a pose until I’m satiated.

  I shower and dress. The bobbing orange can be fun to watch as the thrusts of James’ tongue cause the fruit to escape the grip of his lips. But as stated, he’ll learn and with his need for nutrition he will involuntarily develop indefatigable tongue muscles

  By the time I’m finished, James has consumed about as much of the orange as possible, though a good portion of the juice appears to have dribbled down his latex covered chin.