The Constancia Compendium Read online

  I also note that Jasmine speaks with a very cultured British accent. Had I closed my eyes, the even tone and perfectly annunciated words would acoustically place me in an upper crust London club instead of a New York hotel.

  Jasmine steps to Boy’s side. In her left hand is a cotton swab, in her right a hypodermic needle. When she turns to swab the alcohol soaked cotton on Boy’s flesh, her buttocks are exposed to me. They are huge, perfectly formed, and naked and my distraction is broken by Jasmine’s voice.

  “Boy’s hormones. He receives a shot every week; mostly female hormones with a little testosterone to keep him randy for Lady Constance. The combination has a most interesting effect, wouldn’t you say, Doctor?”

  Jasmine callously jabs Boy’s left cheek with the needle and deftly presses the plunger. Boy’s uncontrollable spasmodic reaction makes his penis flop, bringing a knowing smile to Jasmine’s face. She smoothes her left hand along his thigh, up his stomach and playfully kneads his left nipple, highlighting her comment concerning the effect of the hormones by tweaking his most effeminate attribute and displaying it to me.

  “Lady Constance is considering having him grow breasts. It’s easily done.”

  The smiling Jasmine removes the needle and steps back. The action with her hands causes the frame and Boy to slowly twist at the end of the suspension cable, providing added emphasis to his helpless and bound state.

  “Just a little change in the hormones is all it takes.”

  I ponder if the comment is for my edification or is part of the process of further impressing Boy with the extent of his complete submission. To realize that, at his Mistress’s whim, his body could be further feminized and altered for amusement must provoke the most servile of thoughts. And I believe had his neck collar not been so tightly fastened to the vertical pipe, he would signal some form of objection or concern.

  Jasmine moves to a nearby table. The hypodermic needle is discarded, and she retrieves a clear plastic container. Returning to Boy, she holds the container under his flaccid penis. It is very tightly infibulated (over the period of my many visits with Lady Constance and Boy and subsequent considerable research, I learned much about the shape and condition of the infibulated penis), the skin of the frenulum is pulled forward and tightened by the thin wire to such an extent that the end is tapered to resemble a large dart. It is an amazingly different appearance compared to the large, bulbous, purple head which Lady Constance displayed for me only days before.

  Jasmine drapes the penis into the container. She also seems to recognize that the infibulating wire may be so tight as to block the urethra. The nail of her index finger pokes and prods and when Boy noticeably jerks in his tight bonds, Jasmine smiles, knowing that her finger has cleared Boy’s passage for urination.

  “Time to empty yourself for me. Give me a nice sample.”

  On cue, Boy’s flow begins with Jasmine holding the container in one hand and playfully directing the penis with the other…

  “He’s well trained. Only relieves his bladder upon command and under the close supervision of a woman. A sample is tested every week for any afflictions. You should know, Doctor, that Boy gets the best of care.”

  Yes. It’s an interesting contrast. In terms of health and nutrition the helpless, vulnerable, well-bound Boy is treated better than a prized racehorse, for after Boy finishes, it is feeding time. Jasmine lowers the frame so that his knees almost touch the floor, and Boy’s head is just above the level of Jasmine’s waist.

  The container is exchanged at the table for a bowl of mush.

  “Highly nutritious. Full of fiber, vitamins, calories..., and it tastes terrible. But Boy never complains.”

  Jasmine smiles with the irony of her observation, since Boy’s silence is mandated by the omnipotent Lady Constance and enforced by her own wicked hand.

  I begin the interview as Jasmine patiently spoons the mush into Boy’s mouth.

  “Perhaps, Jasmine, you can give me a synopsis of your background. From the point where you began to handle males.”

  With that suggestion, she began a long narrative, which I recorded word for word as best as my dictation skills allowed.

  “I was born and raised in Nigeria. My parents were well educated, and my father was involved in the government, which meant, as opposed to government employees in most developed countries, we were wealthy. Government positions mean power in undeveloped countries. Power means money.

  “I was privileged to attend the best schools and at age twelve was sent to study in England where I eventually attained a Bachelor’s degree in abnormal psychology from a prestigious British institution. I began to attend graduate school. But at the end of my second semester, civil war broke out in my country. I was called home to assist the military.

  “I was always athletic in school having won many events in track and field. When I reported for military service, something in my demeanor caught the attention of a most interesting woman, who spearheaded one of the intelligence branches. She noted my degree in psychology and also my completed year of schooling toward a Masters Degree in psychiatric nursing. When she interviewed me, what also became apparent to her, was a certain disdain I had for males.

  “You see the interview took place deep in the bowels of the military intelligence building and while we chatted, certain rebel prisoners were being interrogated. The sounds of their cries and pitiful pleas for mercy brought a wry smile to the face of my interviewer, and the fact that I was likewise not phased by such activity, pleased her and was highlighted in my file.

  “So, I was inducted and began a rigorous training program. My stamina from track events proved useful, for upper body strength was mandated and, as you can see Doctor, the military was quite thorough in their program, which I completed with enthusiasm.

  “After months of training and an extensive physical regimen, which added many pounds of muscle and inches of flesh, I was introduced to my new role as interrogator.

  “You must understand, Doctor, that the African male is a very proud beast. All social interaction resolves around the male as leader and being superior to all. Therefore our interrogation techniques were specifically designed to exploit this weakness and misperception.

  “The threat of demonstrating the fallibility of the powerful male and gradual emasculation proved to be a very effective interrogation technique.

  “So when a captured rebel soldier was believed to possess valuable information, he was turned over to our department, which incidentally was staffed solely with women. We were instructed that the quality and thoroughness of information obtained was more important than the timing. Therefore, we had complete discretion concerning methodology, as long as the results were accurate and useful. And they consistently were.

  “We never failed to break a prisoner.”

  [With this strongly emphasized statement, Jasmine paused from her feeding and smiled with the seemingly pleasant reflection.]

  “The typical prisoner arrived in the deep basement of intelligence headquarters restrained in a medical strait jacket, and nothing else except ankle cuffs and a short hobbling chain. From the waist down, he was exposed. And the reaction of the proud soldier to being so exposed to pretty, young, female handlers was interesting. I enjoyed most those who became erect despite their efforts to control themselves. Those were the prisoners who, when broken, gave us the most information.

  “I can also tell you, Doctor, that after the uprising ended, I received very humble correspondence from some of those, and I still do to this day..., but that’s another story.

  “So the prisoners lined up and the staff of interrogators chose their subject. There was an unwritten hierarchy among the interrogators based on seniority, but for the most part I was never disappointed with those placed in my charge. The feeling of power is incredibly heady. And when you look straight into the face of a half naked, restrained, young male and tie a control leash around his scrotum, the rush is indescribable.

  “The psycholog
ical games were very well designed and effective. Most prisoners arrived on Monday. And it was explained to the prisoners that Sunday would be interview day. In the interim, silence was enforced while the interrogators established control. On Sunday, after some six days of torment, the prisoner was given an opportunity to talk. If he provided useful information, he was released. If not, he spent another week with us.

  “Rarely did anyone intentionally spend another week by remaining silent. On occasion, we would recycle some poor, young male to demonstrate our resolve or perhaps because an interrogator particularly enjoyed tormenting him. But for the most part, when Sunday came about they sang like canaries.”

  [Boy finishes the mush. Jasmine places the bowl on the table and slowly lowers the cable until Boy’s knees touch the rubber-coated floor. Jasmine guides Boy’s head forward and downward as the cable slackens. When it rests on the floor, the frame is unhooked and Jasmine mercifully releases Boy from his bonds including his neck collar. Surprisingly, when Jasmine slides the metal pipe down Boy’s spine, a ‘plopping’ sound reveals that a steel plug, welded to the bottom of the pipe, had been penetrating Boy’s anus for the entire time of his suspension. Thus Boy’s weight was borne not only by his arms and separated thighs, but also partially by the sizeable shiny, steel, butt plug. Jasmine notices my look of surprise.]

  “We keep Boy opened for a variety of reasons.”

  [With that brief explanation, Boy is completely freed of all bonds. It is the only time of the day when his arms are not cruelly secured behind his back. But he remains motionless, kneeling on all fours. The daily regimen is well ingrained, and I notice that his thighs remain well separated. It seems at all times he endeavors to display his mammoth testicles and bejeweled penis to the female sex.

  Jasmine positions herself directly in front of Boy. With her hands on her hips, she makes a very imposing figure, a dark skinned Goddess exuding power and strength. Boy lowers his head and kisses her feet. A long, pink tongue then appears and licks. Jasmine resumes her story as Boy, in what appears to be a well practiced ritual, slowly moves his head up, applying long, slow, affectionate laps with his tongue to well muscled calves.]

  “Well, Doctor, you can imagine what a group of dominant aggressive women would do to restrained males. Our training and tactics revolved around the male organ. In Nigeria, as in most African countries, circumcision is not common. In fact, it is disdained as abnormal, considered as a disfigurement, which subjects the male to ridicule, an opening to question his masculinity.

  “So, to establish authority, I routinely removed the foreskin of my subject. Not done in a normal manner you understand, but instead, with me standing between the legs of a completely shaven, very well restrained prisoner. I learned to work the scalpel slowly and developed a technique that left the prisoner’s penis cut high and tight. This involved removing every centimeter of flesh I could gather. There was no anesthesia of course. And when and if a prisoner fainted, I merely waited until he was revived to complete the procedure.

  “This painful operation created the bond which the interrogator needed with the prisoner. My power and control was established with the proud male mentally vanquished.

  “And it was made quite clear to the prisoner that other alterations could be performed. I, for one, relished explaining how easy it was to remove the testicles. ‘Quicker than circumcision,’ I would casually quip. And the shock would cause the horrid reality of complete helplessness to settle into the psyche of the prisoner. A woman was in complete control of his precious organs! And with the excruciating pain of the circumcision and the high and tight cut, he knew there was no bluffing.

  “The days following the operation were used to further establish control. Feeding the prisoner, assisting with bodily functions, changing bandages with close inspection of the incision.

  “Toward the end of the week, if I felt the prisoner remained reluctant, I would mark the sides of his scrotum with a felt tipped pen. Then graphically describe the simple incisions, snipping of nerves and blood vessels, and removal of the precious organs, which would render him permanently neutered.

  “By Saturday, the prisoners were ready to provide whatever information they could. In fact, most were eager. But for those rare exceptions where a recalcitrant prisoner expressed resistance, we had one long-term prisoner we kept as a pet. Neutered and feminized, one of his duties was to provide oral service to the prisoners choosing to remain silent. And while the reluctant prisoner fought the contrasting emotions of pleasure in having his genitals licked with the mental torment of having it done by a man, or former man, I would explain that it could easily be his next function. The interrogation unit could easily accommodate another servile eunuch with an agile tongue.”

  “It was a very effective and persuasive procedure.”

  [Boy’s tongue reached Jasmine’s thighs. Her hands patted the top of his head and stroked the simple but effeminately styled hair. With a smile, she parted her feet and she lifted the rubber apron so it rested on Boy’s coiffure.]

  “Given the time, I could elaborate much more on the games we played. Having complete control and active libidos, Doctor, you can imagine the uses to which we put our prisoners. Some had very good tongues, and that’s where I discovered the delights of oral pleasure.

  “You see I have an extremely large clitoris. Therefore, as Boy has discovered, I find direct oral stimulation to be much more pleasurable than vaginal penetration. And ever since those days in the Nigerian military I have preferred the lips and tongue of the subjugated male over any other sexual activity.”

  [Jasmine stopped and grinned. Boy’s tongue had evidently encountered the aforementioned part of the female anatomy and the thrilling wave of pleasure was apparent. Her feet slipped further apart. Boy’s head bobbed earnestly. After a few moments, Jasmine regained some composure.]

  “Boy’s tongue is particularly attentive this morning. He knows he’s going to be milked and wants to show his gratitude.”

  [Jasmine silently allowed Boy to pleasure her oversized clitoris. Her hands, initially on top of his head, moved after a few moments to his ears. There she worked her fingers under his hair, grabbed the fleshy protrusions and aggressively pulled his head between her thighs. The sounds of wet tongue and lips became louder as Jasmine’s pleasure mounted.

  Finally, with her thigh muscles contracting noticeably, Jasmine groaned and abruptly shoved Boy away. She resumed her story.]

  “Well the uprising ended and my services in military intelligence were no longer needed. It was dangerous for me to remain in Nigeria. There were numerous circumcised rebels seeking revenge, although strangely enough, as I mentioned, I received occasional correspondence from some former prisoners requesting meetings.

  “You’d find that of interest, Doctor. The humbled, male warrior seeking further humiliation at the hands of his inquisitor...

  “Well, it was not possible to determine which former prisoner truly desired more of my special attention and which sought revenge, so I returned to the safety of England to complete my studies.

  “My military service had spurred a curiosity within me, and, while I completed my Masters degree, I also took many courses which concerned the male. Basic urology, male reproduction, and any courses related to the male anatomy. I did extensive research into male behavior..., the affect of hormones on the psyche.

  “I volunteered at a nearby animal clinic and truly learned to perform castrations. I was fascinated with the changes in behavior that a simple operation could manifest.

  “And as a result, I became very knowledgeable concerning all facets of male behavior. The mental aspects and the interrelationship of the physical.”

  [At this point in the story, Jasmine was coating Boy’s body with mineral oil. Her narrative slowed as she began to methodically inspect every inch of Boy’s flesh. This was followed by a most aggressive massage, which included pulling and bending Boy’s limbs into incredibly awkward positions. On occasion, Boy cried ou
t, which interrupted Jasmine and earned him more pressure on the subject limb. The naked Boy and the nearly naked Jasmine appeared to be in a rather uneven wrestling match, with Jasmine demonstrating very painful holds and Boy docilely accepting his losing status.

  After several minutes of rolling and flipping Boy like a toy doll, Jasmine reached under Boy’s buttocks, firmly gripped his scrotum in her right hand, pulled back and stood. Boy quickly brought himself to his hands and knees to relieve the tension, but Jasmine slowly raised her clenched hand until Boy was forced to position himself on the very tips of his fingers and toes with his sizable scrotum pulled back between his thighs. The pink flesh was stretched taut by Jasmine’s gruff handling, and its modified state was quite apparent since the bottom end where the testicles nestled was held upwards as high as the level of Jasmine’s waist.

  It was a very impressive display of power, and I sincerely believe Jasmine had the strength to lift Boy entirely off the floor and dangle him by his precious organs.

  But after looking at me and smiling, she just stood while Boy very carefully balanced himself. Any movement on his part increased the pressure, which he desperately sought to avoid. So he obsequiously remained in the most humiliating of positions while Jasmine continued.]

  “So what does a dominant female do with all this training and knowledge?

  “I could not return to Nigeria. So upon receiving my degree, I applied for positions in several psychiatric prisons in England and Europe. I relished the opportunity to handle males, although I knew my military experience was unique, and I probably would not have the opportunity to replicate it.

  “But then Ms. W----- came to London to interview some of the graduates. She’s the director of the clinic where Boy was first trained to serve. In our first meeting, it became evident that we shared many philosophies concerning the handling of the male. But then when I told her of the details of my military experience, which I obviously did not have listed on my resume, I was hired instantly.