A Gift From James

In everyone’s childhood there is a secret meeting place. In our neighborhood it was the area between my family’s garage and the neighbor’s garage to the rear. The area could not be observed from any nearby house. One had to walk around some bushes to enter the ten foot wide alley way. In so doing, the sound of his/her approach would give adequate notice to the perpetrators of whatever childish mischief was occurring. Enough time to hide any evidence, or scatter out the other end, or both.

As we strolled toward the secretive corridor of mischief, Eve continued talking with authority and I suddenly realized my bump was returning!

Again I panicked. Since it was the main subject of our discussion, Eve was sure to notice!

I told myself to stop. Concentrate...think...but still it grew. It was beyond my ability to control.

Sure enough, after negotiating the thick bushes, Eve again began to lecture and peered downwards as she did. She laughed.

“Does this happen often, James. How do you stop it?”

All her words and questions wouldn’t come back to memory. I’m not even sure I was listening at that point since I was concentrating on my embarrassing problem. But finally she suggested what I feared...and it was stronger than a suggestion, actually.

“Show it to me.”

I paused but did. I was so ashamed. So embarrassed. Yet so excited. I flushed but unzipped as instructed.

Eve stooped to look closely. There was no cage wire to impede her view this time and the swollen purple head of my small erection fascinated her.

“How do you make it shrink?”

Naturally, it was her next question. I was in a funk. I demurred.

My recollection was interrupted by D’s voice. I listened carefully. Her authoritative voice repeated and repeated. The reiteration was the only way to determine that it was more recording and not actually she.

D

It was Sunday. James needed a bath. I wanted to test the efficacy of my program. If it was not working I could easily tuck him away in his cage for another day or so. A visit to the office was required on Monday, but it wouldn’t take much time to cancel more appointments and return.

I had mixed feelings releasing James. The sensory deprivation, feeding tubes and catheterization was the ultimate in subjugation and watching him meekly kneeling in his cage was delicious. But I needed to be serviced. One cannot eat her cake and have it too.

The gastric tube easily slid out. I released his wrist and ankles and led him to the tub. There the anal plug was removed and I was heartened to see some of the nourishing liquid drip into the tub. That indicated his rectum was well stretched and pliable. He had to concentrate to close the sphincter. Excellent.

Removing the catheter is always fun. It’s interesting that to maximize the enjoyment, one just has to do the opposite of what is taught in nursing school. Pull slowly and with an occasional twist.

Quite ironic, I think to myself. Had the old time teaching nurses not been so specific in communicating the level of pain felt by the male as the tube frictions the urethra, particularly as it passes through the prostate gland, I would never know to be so devilish with the removal.

So once again James spasms with the pain and feels the discomfort and embarrassment of my controlling hand.

I treat him by removing the hood. The light is uncomfortable for him, his eyes have been covered since Thursday. I shower and shave him and he peers at me in my crisp, white nurse’s uniform with a far away look. Yes, the subliminal messaging is working.

But I need gratification. Although Robert was very good on Friday night, my hormones are flowing having James’ naked flesh completely subservient to my deviant mind.

I lead him to my bed. No hood or tethers, it’s quicker and with the acceleration of the messaging he is most compliant. I place him on his back with his buttocks just on the end.

“Good boys get a treat, James.”

I restrain his wrists above to the headboard. My dresser drawer yields nasty nipple clamps. Nothing he has not faced before, except these clamps have eyelets attached.

“Legs up, James. Knees to the chest.”

Now things will become stressful for my newly trained pet.

I obtain two strips of fur-lined leather and some cords. The strips circle James’ thighs, just above the knees. The cords are used to secure the thigh restraints to the eyelets on his nipple clamps. James must keep his knees up. Failure to do so will rip the clamps from his sensitive nipples. And he will find that keeping his knees well up will relieve the tension on the cords.

This leaves his buttocks wonderfully exposed. And the well stretched pink sphincter invites my attention...which it shall have.

One last touch. A spreader bar is attached to each thigh restraint. When I work him, there will be a natural tendency for James to squeeze his thighs together. This will not do.