The Chris Bellows' Collection

by Chris Bellows

  Will we invite him to stay next summer?

  No reason not to continue our canine hijinks. But knowing Chloe, the fickle little girl will focus on some other hobby or sport or form of recreation. She always wanted a pony...

  So I plan our party with the assumption that it will be Willie’s last performance. Though the Dalmatian costume and decorations from Chloe’s birthday party were entertaining, the novelty is worn. And besides, Peetie the poodle will attend and with those cute patches of white fur, his energetic tongue, and his recent neutering, Annette’s well- trained pooch is sure to draw all the attention of the dog lovers in our little group.

  Thus other activities are to be planned for Willie.

  After sending out dozens of invitations to the summer’s last soiree, I drive into Philadelphia where I can avail myself of the decadence of the urban environs. Bondage paraphernalia is abundant and questions few. After all, Chloe was able to obtain a faux dog tail to keep Willie’s rectum nicely stuffed and that which I seek is more conventional. And alas, it is available and purchased at the first establishment I visit.

  Willie’s transformation from groveling dog back to obeisant student will include certain steps and those steps will make for a memorable farewell.

  Chapter Fifty Five

  Willie

  I find myself both envious of and irritated with Peetie.

  All Miss Lenore’s friends are arriving and Peetie captures their attention. While I humbly remain leashed to the overhead line on the far side of the pool, Peetie freely saunters about on his dog legs. And though he seems disquieted when hand after hand palms and inspects his empty scrotal sac, in licking shoes, boots and feet he seems enthused.

  Meanwhile I am neglected. Even knowing I am to be exhibited, bound and naked as always, I can feel the familiar twinge in my loins and hope that Miss Chloe will be kind enough to remove the infibulating nail. I too am strangely enthusiastic, knowing that within seconds of being freed of the simple length, my member will swell to enormity and I will become the focal point of all eyes.

  Since this is my farewell, I know that at some point I most assuredly will be released of all bonds. And I picture myself brazenly stroking myself to climax, exploding like a cannon before the cadre of women.

  Officer Benson casually sips wine as a nearly naked Miss Chloe passes around a tray of hors d’oeuvres. Many of the attendees playfully pinch her exposed cheeks as she serves, bringing forth squeals and girlish giggles. I cannot help pining for such proximity and access. She wears the limited collection of strings and patches with such aplomb. She is glorious.

  Miss Beverly arrives, the woman who masturbated me months ago at Miss Chloe’s birthday party, and her presence incites conflicting memories. The sensation of ecstatic release was incredible, but the price in terms of humiliation was unbearable. Still, I cannot help asking myself if I would be willing to pay such a price now, after many weeks of strict chastity and daily teasing, taunting and tantalization.

  As always the commanding Miss Beverly becomes the center of attention, stooping to pat Peetie on the head. Peetie returns the affection with licks to her hand.

  Apparently aware of his alteration, she comments to Officer Benson, “He does seem more docile.” And then, just as with the other guests, her right hand slips between his thighs for a quick feel. But with Miss Beverly, merely reminding Peetie that his organs were callously removed by a woman does not sufficiently entertain. No, she smiles evilly and continues to knead and caress, working the loose flesh until she is able to pull the empty pink sac back under his naked buttocks and display the evidence of his neutering to all present.

  “Something seems to be missing, Peetie,” she exclaims with a laugh.

  And then that familiar hand retreats and grabs his collar to hoist him from his front paws.

  “And look at this!”

  With Peetie standing on hind paws, the altered penis is fully exposed. Miss Beverly’s knowing hand has caused the sutured shaft to engorge, the head resembling a purple plum. The group collectively stares at the curious sight and as all imagine the efforts required for Peetie to empty himself, smiles percolate. For the gathering of female philogynists, viewing the vaunted male phallus, one made useless for normal functions, and so altered at the hands of a woman, is comforting. Knowing that there is one less penis to be wary of brings forth a collective sigh.

  On second thought, perhaps I should not be so envious of the attention.

  After a time, with the yard filled with so many familiar faces, not only from last year’s birthday party, but women who have occasionally stopped by for a summer’s swim, a provocatively dressed Miss Lenore approaches.

  “A parting gift for you Willie,” she announces in holding up a bag.

  She stands before me and retracts a sizable rubber phallus. There are numerous bumps and ridges along the sides, and it is evident from the deviant locations that the phallus is designed for insertion into the male rather than the female. Experience with my tail insertion suggests that one large bump will wreak very pleasant havoc on the prostate gland.

  I gulp with concern, considering the size of the hideous rubber length, and Miss Lenore laughs at my reaction.

  “You’ll take it all Willie. The night is young and every aperture can stretch over time.”

  I am heartened when she moves onward to the diving board. There she carefully traverses to the end over the water. I am curious to observe but Officer Benson approaches and signals to Miss Judy.

  “Time for your final exhibition Willie.”

  My heart leaps as her powerful hands unzip the latex bindings entrapping left arm and right. When freed, she grasps the leash and I feel the serrated edges of the nipple harness close with force.

  “Stretch for a moment, Willie. Then place you arms behind your back, elbows as close together as possible.”

  I obey, of course. With legs remaining bound and her firm grip on the leash I have no choice. Having been released daily by the considerate Miss Judy, my muscles quickly acclimate and I dutifully place my arms behind me.

  “Good boy,” a soothing female voice encourages.

  It is Miss Judy standing to my rear, and the familiar feel of latex returns as she works with Officer Benson holding me steady.

  “A single glove, Willie. Comfortable, but most effective in keeping the male bound and obedient.”

  The long length is zippered closed forcing together my arms. Officer Benson unclips the leash from the walker line and I am forced to demonstrate my prowess in walking on hind legs. She holds the leash close to the harness to assist with my balance.

  Meanwhile my male organ acknowledges the controlling feminine hands and the presence of dozens of examining eyes. As expected my penis tip knocks on the firmly closed foreskin door. The twinge returns. Something within is telling me to show off...to entertain by putting on a firm stand with a huge erection proudly reaching for the clouds. But something else decries ‘shame!’, bringing forth sensations of ignominy. And the conflicting thoughts and emotions seem to spur more tumescence.

  “Don’t you walk nicely on your doggie legs!”

  Officer Benson guides me toward the diving board where Miss Lenore has completed her task. There, attached to the end of the board stands the massive dildo, like a missile ready for launch. As I gaze, I feel familiar fingers between my buttocks. Miss Judy works to remove my tail, deftly untying the straps that hold the insertion in place. The crowd of women collectively laughs when my freed balls swing forth between my thighs. When she jostles the anal insertion, the pleasant sensation causes my penis to further engorge which begins to create pain. The infibulating nail will not yield and I grimace.

  Miss Judy is cognizant of my reaction.

  “No more tail, Willie. Control yourself for a moment.”

  The insertion slides out and I must indeed control myself just as I have learned to do all summer. I wait...wait...wait for Miss Chloe’s divine fingers and the removal of the simple but cru
el implement of chastity thrust through my foreskin.

  Fingers penetrate my rectum and I feel slipperiness. Miss Judy is adding lubricant and I quickly realize that I will soon be introduced to the massive length of rubber attached to the diving board...and where.

  As I ponder my predicament, Miss Judy stoops and I hear more zippers as the sheaths entrapping my legs are opened. My hind legs are carefully removed and for the first time in many weeks I am completely freed of the canine costume. But then I feel cloth encircling my ankles. I look back to see Miss Judy deftly adhering Velcro straps to secure institutional restraints.

  Officer Benson pauses, holding me kneeling at the edge of the board. One limb at a time, she kindly lets me stretch my legs, and then commands, “Stand.”

  I am wobbly and surprised by my own height. I have viewed the world from a crawling position since early June.

  “Step up carefully. You know where we want you.”

  Yes I do know. With Officer Benson following I step onto the diving board. The crowd becomes giddy as the rubber phallus seems to grow in girth as I approach.

  “Be a god boy and Chloe will remove that brass nail for the final time.”

  Such simple words produce soaring thoughts of freedom and forbidden pleasures. My penis will stiffen and celebrate. And I will salute the crowd of women with a stand that will not end.

  I straddle the standing phallus and Officer Benson tugs downward. I know to lower myself and as her free hand guides it in, I soon feel the tip of the large cylinder brush against my cheeks then smooth its way within my rear cleft. One of the large bumps gives me a jolt as it slowly slides past my rectum. I know the devious design of the phallus is to abrade the prostate and within a moment I feel the strange pleasure/discomfort as the well placed protuberance greets the little gland.

  I am utterly impaled. I have no choice. My farewell party puts me at the center of the yard, squatting on the diving board for all to view. Lower and lower I grimace with the discomfort then grunt in pain as the huge dildo fills my rear passage. The pressure brings urgency. My penis needs to be freed. The tip painfully presses against the nail and foreskin. I begin to writhe as Officer Benson commands that I sit with calves dangling to the sides of the board.

  “Draw back your ankles.”

  My mind is elsewhere as a short chain connects my ankles beneath the diving board.

  Officer Benson withdraws. I can hear her soft laughter. In getting my penis under control, I realize that I am stuck. With ankles connected, I cannot stand. In being impaled I cannot slide forward or back. I must sit and hope that I can either keep my infibulated member under control or Miss Chloe will remove the diabolical nail.

  Chapter Fifty Six

  Chloe

  Willie looks so odd without his doggie paraphernalia. But the girls are delightfully entertained as he sits and squirms on the diving board. And with Peetie the neutered poodle padding about, the scene is most fulfilling for those who hold the male gender in contempt. Peetie licks with such affection. And those sad eyes...seeming to forever mourn the loss of his own organs.

  Well I know that with Willie’s dosage of Cialis and the daily hormones, the penetrating dildo will slowly takes its toll. So with all gathered, a simple act of mercy will both amuse and provide poor Willie with relief.

  Stepping onto the diving board, I suppress a laugh as the jouncing caused by my feet jostles the penetrating length of rubber, which so nicely fills Willie’s backside. The motion brings more squirming so I step cautiously then straddle the board and sit behind him. Nearly naked at Lenore’s insistence, I press myself against Willie’s back, my breasts snuggling against his shoulder blades just above his single glove.

  “Want to flaunt, Willie?” I cannot help taunting.

  I know my proximity excites and with the infibulating nail in place, arousal is most painful. He wants to expose his erect penis to the group...the proud yet thoroughly subjugated male organ.

  I lean back and unbuckle his nipple harness, the last vestige of dogdom. His little pink nubs have been used the entire summer as a way to control him...and most effectively. I toss the clever device to the pool deck than lean forward.

  Keeping my flesh pressing against his, I reach around his torso. I feel him quiver. His idol, the woman who has kept him chaste, bound and naked for the entire summer, chooses to condescend and touch. For the first time I toy with his emancipated nipples. He moans with the pleasure. Then I lower my hand to palm his testicles to the sound of rushing air from his hyperventilating lungs.

  “Going to be a good boy for me, Willie?”

  I can almost imagine him wagging his tail in happy response.

  My fingers caress his penis shaft. I can feel the circulation pulsating. He moans again with the overpowering mix of emotions. How long has he dreamed of my touch? Normally when I want him erect I most daintily slip the nail from its place of infibulation without any epidermal contact. But tonight, as a treat, I most brazenly handle that for which I normally have such disdain.

  “You’re going to put on a good exhibition, Willie. Show the ladies how excited you are to be displayed for them.”

  And with that, I slide away the nail...that simple bent length of brass that has kept Willie so friskily chaste and frustrated for the entire summer.

  The swollen, glistening tip first pops forth and then his penis seems to explode, the purple head firming and exiting the foreskin sheath as if shot from a gun. Perched near the edge of the diving board, Willie presents his mammoth organ in panorama. As darkness nears, the pool lights spotlight Willie, presenting him and his proud erection as if he is sitting atop a narrow stage, showing off for the assemblage of mocking women. And what a performance he will give when deemed ready to ejaculate!

  Chapter Fifty Seven

  Annette Benson

  Working the morning shift can become gloomy as autumnal changes bring coolness and shorter hours of sunlight. Yet awakening with two naked males, trained to gently tongue between my thighs until I stir, more than compensates for the dullness of my darkened bedroom.

  On this morning Peetie’s lips work my labia. I have his nose restraint clipped to my cunnilingus harness...a narrow waist belt with a snap hook hanging over my mons. Though not really needed to assure Peetie’s attention, it keeps his head and face properly aligned with my well trimmed genitalia and provides a constant reminder that his task is to pay homage throughout the night. And so my little castrate licks and licks as my dreams erode and my consciousness returns.

  Meanwhile Willie’s face presses against my buttocks and his tongue thrusts to greet my anus. So delightful, the stimulation of their tender oral caresses certainly exceeds that of any alarm clock in ending slumber and bringing forth the day. And so I am awake but lie in relaxation to let my charges lick me to a wonderful climax. And as I bask in the glow, their tongues continue to labor and I feel I could spend the entire day in bed.

  Though it is marvelously gratifying, work beckons and we must start the day. I push away Peetie’s head and unclip the harness as he gathers the last remnants of my spending.

  “Run the shower, Peetie.”

  He scampers from the bed like a small child, his neutering having effectuated curious changes in conduct. The doctors in Mexico suggested that over time, as the testosterone levels slowly deplete, Peetie will become more and more like a child...a Peter Pan stuck in the mode of youthful innocence. And alas I have found he needs strict supervision, just as with any adolescent.

  Meanwhile Willie licks as he is trained to do until commanded to stop. “Enough. I have to go, Willie.”

  The words seem innocuous, but Willie understands and slides from the bed to kneel on the carpet. He is hooded, the smooth black latex having a single hole for mouth and nose but otherwise covering, eyes, ears, head and neck. There, at the back, a locking buckle holds the hood in place until after I am dressed and leave for work. Then his sight will be restored while Peetie bathes, feeds and dresses him and sends him of
f to school.

  My obedient pet kneels in waiting while I sit up and turn, placing my feet on the floor to position myself. I spread and shift to place a thigh over each of Willie’s shoulders. In feeling the warmth of my flesh, Willie knows to open his mouth and accept my morning offering of golden nectar.

  For a woman of Dominance, training the subordinate male to graciously partake in my excretions imbues a sense of power like no other.

  My hands draw his hooded head closer, and when I feel his lips dutifully surround my opening, I press to begin my flow. Willie’s service is most efficient. He never misses a drop and I do not have to scurry to the bathroom. He has learned to open his gullet to take the most taxing torrent and I do believe he has come to savor the tangy, warm wetness.

  Since I sleep naked, Willie is kept hooded. Those are the rules. And of course Judy’s infibulating piercings have been incredibly handy. Yes, Willie remains kept forcibly chaste. But the brass nail, so easily removed, has been retired. In its place is a small plastic padlock device. It is pre numbered and when I choose to let Willie stiffen, the thin loop of plastic penetrating his foreskin is easily snipped to allow freedom. The locks are cheap, I have dozens, and Peetie is charged with recording the number for me so that Willie cannot release himself and later replace the locking device with another.

  Thus in beginning his sophomore year Willie’s frustration continues. And his parents are truly grateful to me for providing room and board. The savings are considerable over the cost of a dormitory room and institutional food. And having two subservient males, if indeed Peetie can still be considered as a member of that gender, certainly adds spice to my off duty hours.

  My old family home is large, having inherited it from my parents. When months ago Lenore suggested that she desired to entice Willie with an offer of reasonable room and board for the upcoming semester, I became instantly intrigued.