A Gift From James

by Chris Bellows

  “Some physical alterations serve to focus the mind,” Alice stated with chilling gravity.

  And so the day passed as the train whisked through countryside which I had only before seen on picture post cards.

  By 5:30 p.m., at the time we reached Shelby, I was napping in the lounge car. Alice had a hooded James in the dome observation section. She stood while our kneeling servant received instruction in the art of analingus. His tongue was becoming very useful.

  A watchful Laitai observed nearby. Dour. Ardent. Resolute. Her cane at the ready.

  Alice

  In Shelby, our private cars were disconnected from the Amtrak train and left on a siding. Word came that the locomotive hired to pull us for the 150 mile leg to Calgary was delayed. Heavy snows had blocked the tracks.

  This provided time for D and me to explore the small town, which was a comparatively vibrant community for the nearby ranchers. Laitai remained in the cars to fulfill her responsibilities of ensuring James’ discomfort.

  While walking from shop window to shop window, D had the opportunity to purchase many leather items, crafted for the care and restraint of livestock but easily converted for use with recalcitrant males. After a time, D and I decided to have dinner in a wonderful steak restaurant. The wine flowed abundantly.

  On the return walk to our waiting private cars, a cattle supply store was still open. The window display spurred some deviant thoughts. I could not resist stopping in to purchase some items. The resulting package was heavy but the remaining walk to the train was short.

  I never realized branding irons weighed so much.

  D

  Alice and I returned to our private cars from a sumptuous steak dinner. It was comforting to see that Laitai had fed and bathed James and was just completing his 10:00 p.m. caning.

  James was very agitated as expected but very pleased to see me. I had Laitai take him to the master bedroom and secure him supine and hooded on the bed.

  In our younger days, Alice always enjoyed watching me open up the male backside and with the wine we had imbibed, some form of recreation was needed.

  So we gave Laitai some well-deserved time to herself, as I retrieved the ‘man spreader’ and Alice stripped for a long evening of sex and male submission.

  The bedroom scene became marvelously sordid. Alice sat on the bed facing me with her thighs straddling James’ head. She pulled back on his spread knees holding them against his chest to best expose the sphincter, while receiving James’ tongue. I ploughed away with the ‘man spreader’, thrusting deeply between the well caned buttocks. Laitai had lubricated him quite nicely, but the ridges and furrows performed their function.

  When we both leaned forward we could kiss. Below our steamy oral caresses was James’ neglected erection, appearing to be sitting up and begging for attention like a hungry dog.

  Our licentious play went well into the night. We let Laitai sleep. James missed his midnight caning.

  James

  Dr. Alice and D used me well into the night. It was painful yet strangely satisfying.

  On two occasions I reached to play with my turgid erection. D’s phallus was putting tremendous pressure on my prostate and I desperately needed relief. It was denied.

  “Shall I have Laitai join us with her cane?”

  With D’s calmly posed question I quickly removed my hand. Fortunately, tending to Dr. Alice’s needs provided a diversion to the pain and I found that my backside was automatically responding to D’s thrusts in the desired manner without forethought from me. Thus, my concentration turned to Dr. Alice with my tongue working first between her thighs and later between her buttocks. She seemed to most enjoy strong laps to her crinkled rear opening while her fingers worked her sex. She was adamant that I receive all her juices and seemed to be challenging me with her abundant flow.

  My tongue and lips worked for hours.

  At some point the women tired. Wrist cuffs were summarily attached and secured behind my back. I was brusquely pushed to the floor. There I spent the night.

  Laitai

  Breaking the male to my will takes time but with experience is rather simple. And the level of enjoyment never diminishes.

  That morning in Shelby, I awoke early. Henceforth, James would be an early riser and would prepare breakfast for his Mistress. For James, sleep would become a privilege bestowed by Ms. D, not a necessity.

  I quietly entered the master bedroom. Dr. Alice and Ms. D were wrapped in each other’s arms sleeping naked with their breasts touching.

  A hooded James was on the floor, also asleep but in an awkward fetal position with his hands cuffed behind his back.

  In the palm of my hand, I held the smallest and most effective item of restraint and correction known, a set of nose clamps.

  Said to be developed by the Japanese, I was certainly well trained in its use by my Chinese ancestors, so to me the historical roots of its usage were unimportant.

  The device is really just a set of upturned, serrated tongs that can be inserted into the nostrils and squeezed by the controlling hand. With the close quarters of the train cars, clamping the tongs into James’ nostrils and pulling provided the same effect as a leash, only with convenient proximity and a much more painful consequence for failing to respond.

  Naturally James awoke as I slid the steel prongs deep into his nostrils. Most do not realize how many nerve endings are in the nose area and how sensitive they can be when squeezed and tugged...James found out.

  “Just follow, James,” I whispered, “we don’t wish to wake Dr. Alice and Ms. D.”

  The response to the slightest tug on the nose is marvelously efficient. James hurriedly arose to his knees and shuffled behind me as I walked. I kept him kneeling as a demonstration of control, and although it took time, we eventually arrived in the domed observation room. There, I wiped the tear stained cheeks and had James perform exhausting calisthenics. I then caned him...slowly, methodically, and painfully. Quite a stimulating way to start the day.

  I led him to my bedroom compartment. After a most humiliating inspection, shaving, internal cleansing and shower, he was eager to work in the galley.

  I decided to add a level of challenge to his training by strapping his feet into a pair of high-heeled shoes. His forlorn look was amusing and I made a note to shave his legs.

  Dr. Alice and Ms. D awoke to a well-prepared breakfast served by a naked and most humble maid, struggling to walk with the alacrity my cane required.

  D

  James served us well, and Laitai’s touch with the high-heels provided amusement and some thought. So after breakfast I worked in the small office as James cleaned up. I made a new tape while Laitai harnessed James and suspended him in the lounge. She was quite adept for a young dominant.

  Within 30 minutes, I completed a new subliminal message and the timing was good. The locomotive from Calgary had arrived to take us to Canada.

  I hurriedly returned to the lounge area to set up the tape. Laitai dutifully stood nearby and I showed her how to operate the recorder. As I placed the headphones over James’ ears the door to the rear observation deck opened. There a burly, middle-aged, bearded railroad worker stood, momentarily transfixed by the sight of my semi-erect, naked man servant. He quickly recovered himself despite James’ embarrassed squirming.

  “Thought I’d warn you. You’ll be feeling a bump when we connect the engine...guess he won’t notice,” he added with a smile and nod toward my freely hanging James.

  “My name’s Jake. From the looks of things, I assume you’re all going to the spa by way of Calgary. The trip will be slow due to the snow. And we’ll have to stop in Canadian customs in about an hour. Your friend’ll be getting quite a welcome,” Jake laughed with his observation.

  “Luther and I will be in the cab if you need anything. Enjoy the ride.”

  Jake closed the door and Laitai and I burst out laughing. James turned crimson. Laitai turned on the tape and I fixed some drinks.

  James


  The humiliation was overwhelming, hanging helplessly naked before a railroad worker. But it was interesting how quickly he surmised our destination and was able to cope with D’s unusual scene.

  Shortly after the door shut, the static filled my ears and I became immersed in thought. Events were happening rather quickly and my introduction to the cane and the constant attention of Ms. Laitai were traumatic. So it was nice to settle into my harness and wile away some time.

  Then Eve returned.

  No longer a precocious teenager, these recollections had her approaching womanhood, more rapidly than others her age. The frequency of my basement trips had slowed after several years. Initially she inspected, used, experimented, discovered, manipulated, etc. with impunity and with me always stripped, her fully clothed. But on occasion she was sans underwear, finding my tumescent reaction to the flash of her blossoming sex to be a source of amusement.

  But over time she became jaded and despite an occasional game, where she would hide my clothes somewhere in her house and laugh as I ran about with ‘Little Dickey” pointing straight up attempting to find covering as her mother pulled up the driveway, her interest waned in extending ‘invitations’ to attend Friday afternoon encounters.

  Whereas the sessions were emotionally stressing, I felt strangely neglected on those Friday afternoons when left to my own. Particularly when it became evident that she was busy preparing for a date with the likes of a star football player, and I faced spending an evening not only alone but without experiencing the decadent yet gratifying sensation of masturbating for her.

  However, in those increasingly rare times when she indeed commanded my presence, her demands reached an ever higher level of depravity. It was as if she had fantasized about some sexually lewd scene then decided to act it out in reality, with me as the guinea pig, the unwilling participant, or perhaps the reader may suggest the benefactor, of her lewd and deviant whims. And though she possessed the photos, I was so frustratingly willing to ride her roller coaster...

  Sometime in our senior year, Eve’s parents decided to move. Eve’s father had progressed in a successful business career and our little suburb was apparently too provincial for a man on the rise.

  The decision was announced with little fanfare and well in advance. So in anticipating graduation both Eve and I realized we would probably not see each other after matriculation. Not only would there be the obstacle of attending distant colleges, but also the hurdle of returning to parental homes that would be many miles apart.

  And so in the spring of our senior year, Eve seemed to fully comprehend not only the negative but also the remaining positive aspects of our relationship. That is she understood that although she would no longer be able to vent her sexual proclivities on my naked body, for whatever did occur in the interim, she would most likely never again have to face me and account for or explain her actions. Thus, our meetings resumed in earnest.

  Eve had always dictated that my hands remain out of the way. Not only was I denied the modest covering they provided, but she insisted that I not touch myself, which when excited I was wont to do well before she permitted me to stroke myself to ejaculation.

  So she began to use some old silk ties which her father had apparently discarded. The half dozen worn strips were hidden behind her doll collection and they were ceremonially retrieved as I quietly stripped. My hands were then tied behind me and ‘Little Dickey’ would begin his inevitable rise with the excitement and Eve’s proximity. She always seemed to position herself so that my penis brushed against her as she bound my hands. Her wry smile evidenced her enjoyment of watching the sensitive engorged tip thrust forward as she moved away.

  Naked and bound she would step back and survey her toy and ‘Little Dickey’ would fully rise solely from her inspection. Then she would gather up my clothes and leave, with each visit hiding the garments in a different place.

  Upon her return the games would begin. Sometimes utilizing the remaining neckties to tightly bind me in the most awkward and embarrassing of positions, closely observing the reaction of my penis. She seemed to recognize the aroused responses...but was it the bondage or the touch of her controlling hands that so excited me?

  Not even I knew the answer.

  Everyday household items became a source of amusement for her. Over the course of one afternoon, clothespins were attached to every sensitive area she could find. When my penis reacted with renewed firmness, Eve was spurred to add more and on occasion she had to dab away the pre-ejaculatory fluid accumulating on the tip, lest it drip to the rug and leave a telltale sign of our play.

  Eve discovered that erogenous zone so particular to the male. If her mother only knew to what uses certain vegetables were put, thankfully well lubricated but still painful yet strangely stimulating. One of my duties became disposing of the objects on my walk home.

  “Unless you’d like to eat them, James,” I remember her weekly taunt.

  Then came graduation week. Eve had me kneeling on the rug, wrists tied together behind me under my back. I was bent backwards, legs under me with the back of my head resting on the rug. As stated, this position highlighted ‘Little Dickey’s’ stiffness and I indeed was standing nicely for her as she placed clothespins on my young nipples.

  She increased my level of torment and frustration by telling me about having wonderful sex with an athletic classmate and what lewd activities she planned after the weekend graduation dance. While she spoke she retrieved a zucchini, already lubed, then stood over me. Under her short skirt she wore nothing, and my eyes glued to try to catch a glimpse of her young pink flesh.

  “Now, I wonder why I brought this?”

  These were the times when I felt particularly ashamed, for I found myself parting my knees, perhaps subconsciously, perhaps consciously and perversely presenting my separated buttocks for her attention. Eve laughed.

  “Yes, now I remember.”

  She continued to narrate as she leaned over, found my puckered aperture and began to insert the sizable green cylinder.

  “Open nicely for me.”

  Over the weeks, she had taken the time to slowly stuff things in that most embarrassing of places. She always took her time, enjoying the reaction of my turgid manhood, and making humiliating comments with every push and twist.

  On this occasion, she explained how satisfying her recent dates had been, and how my penis was so small in comparison to others. I flushed with rage but could do nothing. I was physically bound and the blackmailing photo collection had grown enormously.

  After several minutes the zucchini was inserted to the desired point and Eve stepped away to survey her handiwork, continuing to regale me with stories of her sexual relations with this ‘Mr. Wonderful’. She diddled the clothespins on my nipples, then gathered up more.

  For the next 20 minutes she gently attached more clothespins, this time to the shaft of my erect penis. It was unusual for her to touch me there. But I surmised that her recent sexual experiences had emboldened her. When finished, three pins had been carefully clasped onto each side of the shaft, the effect was to turn the head to an unusually deep shade of purple.

  “Oh, we must add to our collection.”

  The camera appeared and she snapped away, aligning herself to ensure that the frame included the colorful scene of protruding green zucchini and purple erection along with my reddened look of sexual torment.

  With her last shot she lifted the front of her dress with her left hand, when I craned my neck to finally glimpse her beautiful sex, the camera flashed and she laughed as the skirt was released.

  “You like that, don’t you James?”

  The camera and photos were put aside and another necktie appeared. This one was used to encircle my testicles, which she then used as a leash.

  “Come, let’s walk.”

  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.