The Chris Bellows' Collection Page 9

  “Bought something for you, Willie. Had to drive almost to Philadelphia to get just the right implement.”

  She holds up what appears to be a tail...a dog’s tail, of course. But at the end is a smooth but oddly shaped lump of rubber and some straps.

  She unhooks my leash, gives the chain a sharp tug to pinch my nipples, and with her signal of authority I quickly react to her controlling hand. She leads me to my examination table and to avoid further nipple torment I raise my front paws to the chair, lift myself up then move onto the table.

  “Good boy,” Miss Chloe exclaims with exuberance. “Now spread.”

  Presenting on all fours on the table, the point where I am placed on display and examined every morning, my system reacts. I feel the twinge in my loins and it is more pronounced with Miss Chloe’s presence. I try to avoid thoughts of arousal but alas my penis swells and pressures my foreskin.

  Meanwhile Miss Chloe touches me! It is so rare, having before only experienced the effect of her divine hand through the leash or walking stick. And now dainty and soft fingers hand curl around my scrotum.

  “Hold still,” she commands.

  She uses my testicles as a handle and I feel the rubber lump at the end of the tail pressing against my anus. She pushes.

  “Open for me. Be a good doggie.”

  I comply and feel the lump slowly slide inward. My sphincter struggles to swallow the meaty circumference, and then relaxes as it passes onward and a more tapered section at the base of the tail dilates easily my rear opening. But the odd shape, pushed well into my passage, causes a great deal of pressure. And I begin to feel intense pain as my penis involuntarily hardens more and fights its entrapping nail. I begin to grimace with the agony. Miss Chloe continues working and I feel her take the two straps dangling between my spread thighs. She quickly encircles the base of my scrotal sac and gently ties off the ends.

  “There. Now you have a nice tail. And the straps pull back your balls so they are much more prominently flaunted.

  “Let’s see how this insert works. It’s said to knead the male prostate gland and Judy says that’s important in keeping a male chaste.”

  I am not given to prayer. But if I were, my prayer would be answered as Miss Chloe moves to my side reaches down and deftly slides the bent nail out of my pierced foreskin. I look down to see my swollen penis tip instantly spring from its sheath. Miss Chloe also watches in amused amazement. I have never before seen the organ grow to full erection so quickly...and without being touched or manipulated.

  In reaching its full length, Miss Chloe laughs and I blush. I know my role is to entertain, but standing bound and naked on faux dog legs, now with anus plugged, it is all overwhelming. And to so appear before the beautiful Miss Chloe, who I idolize...well, I close my eyes with the extreme humiliation as Miss Chloe just stands and observes.

  Though her preferences are obvious, there is a curiosity concerning the male gender. And whereas even a woman of homoerotic tastes normally has some deference for the vaunted male erection, Miss Chloe casually looks on as if viewing a dangerous but well caged wild beast.

  “It’s best that you walk him, Chloe.”

  It is the voice of Miss Judy, approaching from behind.

  “The shape of the insert I suggested is specially designed to manipulate the prostate gland. In being neglected, fluid builds and you’ll see our young pup drooling a gooey substance from his penis.”

  Miss Chloe silently nods and takes my leash. I know to step down from the table. But I do so with a feeling of giddy anticipation. My phallus is free and I can now with relative impunity gaze at the nearly naked Miss Chloe.

  “Come, Willie,” my Master pleasantly commands.

  And with Miss Judy looking on, Miss Chloe leads and I follow around and around the pool. I stare in rapt fascination as her uncovered buttocks, so perfect in formation, wriggle and roll with each step. And I feel envious of Miss Lenore.

  Chapter Forty Four

  Judy

  Though Tom and I have quite the happy ‘plain vanilla’ relationship, as Lenore terms it, I am finding that dealing daily with a kept male, forcibly bound and chaste, spurs carnal instincts to a frenzied arousal. So our lovemaking has become more frequent with the arrival of Willie the dog. And Tom is either unaware or ambivalent about having a naked teen prance about right under our window. But he is appreciative of our renewed lovemaking. Thus in that respect, his own carnal instincts most likely convince him to enjoy the lust and not ask questions.

  With the cool summer nights, Tom and I sleep with the windows open. And on occasion I am awakened with a moan. It’s a plaintive human sound, and since I know it is Willie awakening from his sleep as his penis uncontrollably stiffens and meets the cruel entrapment of the brass nail, it excites. Willie’s organ suffers due to my infibulating hand. And so I feel the thrill of feminine Dominance.

  Willie’s restless nights result from my simple yet effective alteration.

  Listening on this night, I smile and reach to Tom’s pubes. There my warm hand feels his pulse throbbing through his large, beautifully shaped penis. Though he sleeps, it responds to my touch and it slowly firms. I diddle the underside of the circumcised frenulum and delight to feel it grow. When it is fully erect I toss aside the thin cover sheet and straddle his thighs. As I grip and align the massive appendage, Tom awakes. I know it to be a male’s dream, to awaken with a naked woman about to take her pleasure. So he smiles in the dimness as I slide forward, raise my hips and nestle the bulbous head between my outer labia. Then I drop suddenly...forcefully...and while squeezing so as to maximize Tom’s pleasure with the initial thrust.

  And so to the sounds of Willie’s beseeching moans, I copulate like a wild animal. Up. Down. Up. Down. The fantasy of pleasing myself with one penis knowing that another suffers such woeful and painful neglect stimulates incredibly. Our lovemaking ends with a pair of paroxysmal orgasms, Tom ejaculating most deeply as I squeeze with abandon.

  Later, we both sleep, but poor Willie continues to moan. He will just have to learn control.

  Tomorrow morning I will find Chloe’s rubber hood. Until then I will retain Tom’s male essence within and our little dog will be taught to lap up every drop. A blindfolded Willie will experience the ignominy of the cream pie clean up and my newly found Dominance will thrive as the subordinate male most servilely cleanses me of semen.

  Chapter Forty Five

  Lenore

  Chloe is so much more orgasmic with Willie the pup available for play and amusement. I am glad she convinced me that for the price of dog food we could be so well entertained for the entire summer. Her juices flow like a waterfall and I am given to treating Willie to a taste at least once or twice over the course of every weekend.

  Since Willie spends so much time alone, chained to his walker line, his reaction to Chloe’s presence is touching. His little tail seems to waggle exuberantly when she steps from the house. And since Chloe kindly removes his infibulating strip of brass and lets his penis stand in salute, he is always so eager to greet her. Judy removes it briefly during his morning cleansing, but since Willie knows she will viciously slap it back to flaccidity when finished, his enthusiasm for relinquishment by way of her hand is most modest.

  It’s into the fourth week of Willie’s canine summer when the phone rings early on a Saturday morning. Chloe and I sleep late after our long night of lovemaking and though awake I am still groggy. As much as I would like to play with Willie, the tongue and lips of the little minx have robbed me of the energy to move. So I slothfully reach for the phone.

  “Good morning, Lenore. I am back from Mexico.”

  I know the voice to be that of Annette Benson. Not quite a sister of Sapphos, as Annette’s sexual preferences align with those of mine more than the mousy heterosexual housewife neighbor. And so on occasion she has stopped in for soirees around the pool. A life of putting kids off to school and gossiping with the likes of a neighbor housewife over coffee and Danish has n
ever been a desire for Annette. And so when she needs to talk, she stops in and we exchange thoughts and desires. Annette’s brand of Dominance is stern to the extreme, as well as cruel. Thus the gender of her subservient partners, by necessity, is male. Though she demonstrates such thorough contempt....

  “Mexico in July, Annette? A little hot for a vacation?”

  “Oh, I guess I did not tell you. I took Peetie to the Instituto para Alteracion del Hombre.”

  I have heard of the establishment, but with my penchant for women, an institution for the alteration of the male never piqued my interest.

  “Really, Annette. That must have been interesting.”

  “Yes, they know how to handle recalcitrant males. And I had had enough of Peetie’s habits. Caught him masturbating on my boots again. He was warned and so paid the price. They have a fascinating program there, Lenore. I know it’s not your thing but they’ll do a male any way you like. Peetie’s sutures have healed if you’d like to inspect. I understand that that Willie character is spending the summer with you. Might be an interesting meeting; I have Peetie’s poodle gear ready for show.”

  Annette laughs and I find myself smiling. It is always a curious exhibition, the tall, powerful, authoritative blonde leading about a pixyish male costumed as a French poodle. And with Willie naked and chained to his walker line, perhaps an interesting afternoon around the pool can be arranged.

  “Come over for lunch and stay the afternoon, Annette. Willie can use a playmate.”

  Chapter Forty Six

  Annette Benson

  I got a kick taking down Willie Devereux and can’t wait to observe his comeuppance at Lenore’s. The little tease Chloe must have that sizable pecker of his standing to the sky by now. And I know that Peetie, my faithful companion, finds the atmosphere around Lenore and Chloe’s pool to be tormenting as well as pleasant.

  So though Peetie is still psychologically disquieted about the results of his recent trip, I want to show him off to Lenore and observe his physical reaction to viewing Chloe, who I know will be most scantily clad on a warm Saturday afternoon.

  “Peetie! Here boy.”

  My young companion skips into the kitchen. He’s naked as always. Males don’t own clothing in my house. And he seems to be in good spirits after suffering such a fateful loss…I had him castrated.

  “Hands on head.”

  He obediently complies and I reach down to caress what is left of his privates. In addition to removing his balls I had the shaft of his penis inosculated to his lower belly. The tip remains free to somewhat bob about but points upwards just under his navel. Thus to urinate, Peetie must get down on all fours in the bathtub or shower. Otherwise his flow is discharged skywards like an upturned garden hose. Over the past few days I have assisted in his efforts and the control factor makes me heady with power. The penis tip requires the push of my finger to assure that he does not wet himself. And with my touch he still hardens, though with the shaft initially sutured and now grafted to his tummy the stiffness is completely useless for any normal male function. But it amuses me.

  The Instituto is quite the place. Upon arrival I was given a sizable catalogue to review outlining every conceivable method for altering a male...for both a woman’s pleasure and for punishment. The number of ways the male beast can be pierced to effect better control are countless and the catalogue spurred much thought as to both Peetie’s punishment and my continuing utilization of his skills.

  Castration there can be performed in a variety of ways ranging from quick and painless to slow and the pain is mind boggling.

  For Peetie, my little poodle, I chose the latter and had a wonderful ten day stay.

  The Instituto’s psychologists recommend a great deal of interaction on the part of the castrating female during alteration. The male psyche must transform along with the physical anatomy. And so a finely crafted clamp was fitted over Peetie’s right testicle and each day, in accordance with precise instructions, I tightened it ever so little, placing Peetie in exquisite agony. Meanwhile, wearing only a single glove behind his back, and no other covering, Peetie was free to romp about the Instituto with the other castration candidates and their owners.

  The pleadings are both heartfelt and arousing to a woman of Dominance. The male can be so deliciously contrite when the realization dawns that the clamp will slowly tighten little by little, day after day until the gonad surrenders. Trained female doctors oversee the procedure, awaiting the final twist when the firm little nut capitulates and turns to useless jelly.

  And with Peetie, after the first turned to mush, I waited two days before I began the process of crushing his remaining testicle. The psychological burden of waiting was fantastic. The doomed male reproductive organs responded in an array of reactions...sometimes causing Peetie to involuntarily tumefy; other times bringing forth a curious despondency, a sort of grieving even before the slow death is consummated.

  While awaiting the completion of the neutering, the girls there, trained nurses and wonderfully aloof to the beseeched sympathy of the condemned male, permanently depilated his body. And of course the catalogue was replete with alterations of which I had never thought. Certain ligaments in Peetie’s tongue were snipped to loosen it for stretching and better oral servitude. And though I relish listening to his cries of anguish, I had his vocal cords adjusted so that discernible speech is no longer possible. And it worked marvelously, his inability to communicate adding to his physical frustration. Yet his mournful grunts of agony continue to spur my demonic proclivities.

  I am not given to a host of controlling trinkets such as permanent wrist and ankle bands or rings embedded in various areas of the flesh. But the catalogue did have an intriguing, curious suggestion for assuring the male’s attention and cooperation. I had a permanent nostril binding inserted into Peetie’s nose. Simple and most effective, a single strand of stainless steel cable was inserted into Peetie’s right nostril, thrust into his sinus cavity and then cleverly hooked and drawn down his left nostril. After experimentation and testing, I selected just how much length was to be exposed and the cable was cut and the two ends welded together to form a loop. So on Peetie’s upper lip there appears to be a steel moustache. But if one grasps the exposed portion of the loop, one finds that a very obedient Peetie will follow anywhere.

  The doctors at the Instituto suggest that supplicants, during psychological counseling, report that the sensation of a stern woman tugging on the steel loop feels as if she is controlling something threaded directly into the brain. Yes the sinus cavity is that sensitive and that proximate to the mind.

  So when I demand oral service, a very compliant Peetie knows that a simple finger hooked through the loop will assure that tongue and lips will dutifully work until my gratification is complete.

  As I recall the events at the Instituto, my fingers explore. Peetie’s little empty poach is delightfully hairless, soft and warm, reminding me of a young girl’s mons veneris. He squirms as I play and gather a puff of flesh and pull outwards. So much sensation is left, the doctor leaving many nerve endings intact when she opened the sac and slipped out the crushed and useless testicles. I suppose I could have left them in there, but I so much wanted Peetie to watch and experience the horrifying feeling of having a woman emasculate him. Again, psychologically very important.

  The tiny incisions are almost unnoticeable, the doctor knowing that gonads crushed to flatness do not require much of an opening for removal. She made the small openings to the side near where the ball sac hangs from the pubes. And the organs came out appearing more as gelatin than as the proud reproductive organs of the male.

  Thus my little Peetie has been left with a wondrously smooth puff of flesh more resembling labia than the sensitive containers that once held a mighty set of balls. As I toy, I feel his penis engorge and this pleases me to no end. I own a castrated male who will still respond to my sensuous touch, yet will never again experience gratification. That pleasure is only for me.


  The Instituto was expensive but worth every dollar.

  “We’re going to spend the afternoon at Lenore and Chloe’s. Get your poodle outfit ready.”

  I was the one who recommended that Lenore contact the human kennel facility in New York in preparation for Chloe’s birthday. Since I work with Max every day in the drab vanilla world of law enforcement, I am given to handling dogs. So for off duty fun and games I’ve had Peetie run about as a cute poodle for years. Now he’ll again be costumed as a poodle, but as one who’s had a traumatic visit to the vet.

  Peetie’s been fixed!

  Chapter Forty Seven

  Willie

  The past few weeks I have learned that whoever controls the simple brass nail controls me. Waiting for penile freedom seems interminable, yet somehow I have been able to divert my thoughts and remain flaccid. But when Miss Chloe appears, I am helpless to abridge the process of tumescence. My penis begins to harden at the sight of her and I have learned that, though not permitted to talk, whining will gain her attention. She will pat my head in sympathy and after cooing words of comfort her gentle hand will slip the thin length from the diabolical piercings in my foreskin.

  Then the reaction never ceases to amaze me. Miss Chloe lifts my leash and the nipple harness brings torment and forces me to raise my front paws from the deck. So I stand on hind legs as my organ rapidly swells in celebration of its freedom. It has a mind of its own and proudly stands so that the purple tip presses against my navel as I pose upright to show my arousal.

  But that is all. Miss Chloe just enjoys looking. Therefore the chastity continues and my penis remains erect while I stroll about on all fours. Sadly and inevitably, there is a decision to ice it down and slip the nail back into its nest.