Miss Elizabeth's Captive

And then she gave the puffolator the most modest of squeezes, causing to inflate what Jamie had so fastidiously inserted into my sphincter. The sensation was something I had never before experienced... peculiar discomfort... yet indescribable pleasure.

A distinctly male gland was being manipulated, by a beautiful woman, casually sitting some five feet away, controlling a visceral region of my body with nothing more than a gentle squeeze of her soft, warm hand. And as firm as Little Sam was, he comically jumped to attention, much to Liz’s amusement.

She laughed. It was an irritating laugh. I squirmed, fighting my bonds in anger. Then Jamie joined in the merriment, fascinated by Little Sam’s reaction.

“Jamie’s little penis used to do that. You’ve made him quite envious.”

My day dream of Friday evening ended with an annoying phone call... pesky business which I concluded with dispatch.

Then I anxiously called Liz, visualizing a second padded manila envelope addressed to the 35th floor and awaiting postage.

Though having had some good years at MacDonald Bear, one’s impact is judged by recent results. Wall Street epitomizes the ‘what have you done for me lately?’ paradigm. And based on limited generation of recent fees, I could not afford to have scandal juxtaposed against the answer to such a question. Liz was threatening my livelihood. The Wall Street community is small an

d gossipy. A finding of moral turpitude was well defined as a termination for cause in my contract and such an event would end a career. And I had no doubt that Liz would carry out the threat. Her financial independence made her impervious to retaliation.

“Good of you to call, Sam. I have a surprise here for you. You’ll arrive promptly at 7:00 p.m. And remain chaste in the meantime. I know when bad little boys play with themselves.”

Aside from being sarcastic, Liz was firm and abrupt. She had all the cards. She knew it and she knew how to deal them.

“Yes, Ma’am,” I meekly replied just before I heard the click.

I needed a margarita, chilled and well salted. I left for the elevator wondering what the unabridged videotape revealed and skeptically trying to determine what could possibly be more of a surprise than what she had sent to my office.

Chapter Fourteen

Saturday evening, as I waited for a cab, Little Sam announced his eagerness in returning to Liz’s apartment. As instructed, I had remained chaste and the bed sheets tantalizing my hairless pubic region caused unfamiliar sensations resulting in nocturnal erections. And each time I awoke with ‘a diamond cutter’, as the male vernacular suggested, my thoughts returned to the examination room.

So as I stood outside my apartment, the memory returned as Little Sam pressed the front of my slacks, like a leashed dog straining against his master’s collar.

“He’ll react better with the neck collar supported, Jamie.”

Liz spoke so calmly as my prostate was introduced to her controlling hand. She squeezed the bulb again, enlarging the inflatable anal plug, smiled, and then turned a little valve to let the plug slowly deflate. A very clever introduction to her control, I realized.

Meanwhile her observation caused Jamie to skip on toes to the cabinet where two cords were retrieved. The manicured hands knotted one to a heavy ring on the right side of my neck collar, and the other to the left. Then I received a close up view of Jamie’s bejeweled pubes and forcibly firmed penis as he drew up a stool in front of me and stood on it.

“We’ll want Mr. Sam to be nice and taut, Jamie. The collar is well designed.”

I felt tension on my neck as Jamie secured the two cords to something above. Then the tension eased as he dismounted the stool and handed a different thicker cord to Liz. Jamie had evidently attached the cords to a pulley hanging from the ceiling. A curious addition to the ‘examination’ room I remembered thinking. But my eyes could not leave the hairless, formerly male region where the two golden balls dangled from a puff of pink flesh that resembled labia more than that which once sheltered the mighty reproductive organs of a man.

My distraction was noted when Liz pulled on the single heavier cord and tension slowly returned. The pulley was obviously geared to allow Liz to effortlessly pull with one hand and raise my neck cords a very small amount. A second long but simple pull of her arm caused my head to rise. My posture was forced to change with my back perfectly straight in order to relieve the tension from my neck. I was slowly being hung and yet there was little discomfort. The collar was indeed well designed.

I began to lift my knees, attempting to find the floor with my feet. Jamie noticed and approached, stopping my effort by stepping on the spreader bar.

“Calm yourself, Sam. Relax. Enjoy the sensations. Your penis will find much delight, I can assure you.”

With Liz’s admonishment came a squeeze of the puffolator and the return of the oddly pleasurable pressure on my prostate gland. With my spine effectively in traction, I found Liz to be correct. Little Sam felt as hard as I could ever recall.

“Can you waggle for me Sam? Like a good boy.”

Increased tension on the neck collar and clever pressing of her thumb on the squeeze bulb indicated that her request was in earnest. And yes, Little Sam did indeed waggle for her. Liz found that very entertaining.

“Jamie’s so jealous,” she giggled.

And then began the segment of Liz’s entertainment which, thinking about it being on videotape, made me cower, and picturing such a tape in an envelope addressed to the 35th floor, made me blanch in fear.

Jamie’s apparent envy caused him to join me. With me kneeling, the little minx’s pierced nipples were at about the level of my forehead so as he stood he pressed his upturned, locked penis into my abdomen. I felt his golden balls brush my skin and heard Liz laughing.

“He gets terribly affectionate in viewing the arousal of others. He likes to join in the pleasure but can’t. I took that away.