The Party Boy

“This patient will also endure elektronisch abgelassen,” the narrator succinctly suggests as the camera once again focuses on what proves to be a huge erection.

The camerawoman withdraws. The scene fades. There comes more narration, intending to reassure the viewer of the Institute’s strict regimen.

“We have never had a patient escape. Our facility is high in the Alps, quite secluded. Visitors are not encouraged as outsiders can affect behavior. We understand that rehabilitation for the sexually deviant is unlikely. Thus we are committed to long term care here at Institut Für Sexally Abweichenden.”

Just as I am about to attempt a translation of the term ‘elektronisch abgelassen’, the video unexpectedly continues, now in silence. There is a trailer... no audio.

A patient lies naked and well bound in his Segufix bondage. He sports an erection, encumbered wrists tugging mightily in attempting that nasty male habit. A young nurse enters the room carrying an electrical box, wires dangling.

In a most direct and clinical manner, the nurse reaches between well spread thighs and lubricates the patient’s anus. A rather stout probe is inserted, a wire leading to the box. The patient is saying something, shouting, his mouth opening widely, his words obviously frantic. The nurse callously ignores, gathering in her hand a control device. She turns a dial on the box, presses a button and the man both lurches spasmodically and ejaculates... the expression on his face one of intense agony... certainly not pleasure.

Yes, a large wad of sperm shoots upwards, then splashes to soil the broad Segufix waist belt. The mouth opens again, perhaps a plea. The nurse again presses the button. Another lurch, a dribble of sperm. With a third press, energy depleted, the physical reaction is limited... as is the effluent. The patient is well drained.

With a look of Schadenfreude, the nurse slips out the anal plug and removes the box, otherwise showing not an iota of emotion. As she calmly wipes away the cloudy whiteness, a free hand brazenly toys with the left nipple. The girl appears most sanguine in sending her message of ultimate ownership and control.

Onto the screen comes a caption... ‘elektronisch abgelassen 40 volt’.

Alas, I understand the consequences of attaining erection. No further translation needed.

Chapter Fifty-One

In viewing the website, Jack’s fate becomes evident. He’s to be tucked away somewhere in the Bavarian Alps, probably never again to see beyond the gray concrete walls of an institute for the sexually deviant.

Mrs. Lipton has the money and therefore the power to make it happen. It will not be Jack that ever challenges Mr. Lipton’s will. And his questionable sexual deportment will never bring embarrassment to the Lipton name and his Palm Beach socialite stepmother.

Endless bondage... most strict bondage... cold showers... forced exercise. In thought, not that much different from my regimen. But what will end is the exhilaration of performing for a concupiscent gathering of admiring women.

Those nurses, though young and pretty, are most strict... both comfortable and aloof in handling the naked male. Not much delight in being exposed to them. And all my training, encouraging Jack to harden and show himself off, humbly display those firm ten inches, at the Institute such will earn him a rectal insertion and the application of forty volts.

My party boy has entertained at his last party. In a way I am saddened. But for Jack it is probably for the best. I wonder how long it will require to reverse my training. Psychologically, for many years, being naked before fully clothed women has been his primary sexual catalyst.

Well, so be it. Meanwhile I turn my attention to drafting my latest Craig’s List posting... women seeking men.

Firm woman seeking young male in need of training and guidance. You, in shape, well hung, desirous of pleasing women with a male package I will make most presentable. Me, stern, medically trained, demanding. Expect chastity and discipline.

I no longer need the income from CFNM parties. But I do still need the thrill.

Chapter Fifty-Two

Mrs. Lipton’s quarterly payments are wired with exactness, my brimming bank account brimming more. Since I have not to any extent changed my lifestyle the outflow is limited. About the only excess expense, and it’s relatively insignificant, is following up on the myriad of responses to my Craig’s List postings, which unfortunately are more frequent than I’d like.

It seems Jack is difficult to replace. Many of the boys responding have been college students who have strong maternal ties and, in being away from home for the first time, need a surrogate mother. So I buy them dinner and we talk... though the exchange is probably more akin to an interrogation. If there are possibilities I entice them to my apartment and masturbate them. But there are preliminary intermediate steps of course.

The first being getting naked, having them serve me in some capacity such as fetching food or drink sans covering. For one Saturday matinee meeting, I had a boy clean my apartment in the nude, toilets included in memory of Jack. Since I am reasonably good at judging sexual needs and the many facets of masochism, most move to the final hurdle for selection, and that is sitting naked on my lap while I massage their prostate and masturbate them into a waiting bowl.

Having them cede total control and ejaculate for me on cue is the telling attribute. Most come prematurely, some cannot keep their hands out of the process, one or two, though stiff while serving me, soften in fright, despite my penetrating fingers.

Well, I didn’t think it would be easy. And despite the fact that I do not need the income, I am considering returning to my profession as governess, offering an earlier state in transforming the male psyche to properly respond to the touch of a controlling woman.

Chapter Fifty-Three

Six months after turning over Jack and his key I receive an email from Mrs. Lipton...

Thought you’d want to know Jack is well cared for. Lipton355978.

Her message is succinct and initially gives rise to quandary. Then I remember the clandestine website for Instit

ut Für Sexally Abweichenden. Fortunately I bookmarked the site in my browser for the many letters and numbers are impossible to recall.