Nusquam

Departing cabin 10 after changing to lighter clothing, the strolling friends come across one of the many sodomy stanchions, its smooth horizontal surface evidencing much wear. As Linda pauses to peer in curiosity, Kelly explains.

“The subjugants... male, female, castrated... know to bend and spread with the snap of the fingers,” Kelly explains. “You noted the many steel bands on the flight attendant. Well the ankles are secured here and here at the base of the posts and the wrists and or elbows attached together behind the back. Ideally positioned for the humiliation and discomfort of anal penetration... though many of the subjugants come to enjoy. Vaginally, the female subjugants are untouched... kept chaste.”

“No chastity belt?”

“Correct. The hounds are trained and are everywhere. They can smell arousal from yards away... and their reaction is fierce. If you’re naked and wearing steel bands... do not touch yourself or the privates of another subjugant. The protocol relieves the members, nurses and trainers of much burden.”

Resuming their journey to the pump house, there approaches a cart conveyed by one of Nusquam’s many human equines. It is Penny Osborne, reins in her left hand sjambok in her right. Harnessed, enormous testicles prominently strapped to his thigh bands, is Balls Martindale, sweat coated nakedness gleaming in the tropical sun.

The imposing blonde tugs on the reins bringing the cart to a halt. Kelly notes the heavy breathing, the steed well worked in equatorial heat, buttocks aflame with encouraging strokes of the sjambok.

“Kelly, you’re back... and out of uniform.”

As Kelly returns the greeting Linda stares, the large black numerals 88 denoting ownership... a human totally under the directing hand of a woman of governance. With the glowing look on Linda’s face, Kelly understands her friend is becoming more and more enthralled.

“No longer here as a nurse, Penny. I’ve joined. A short visit, showing my friend Linda about the facility.”

With the exchange, Linda steps forth, finding attraction with the steel encased penis. She is emboldened, the steed so well tethered and totally under feminine control.

“May I?” her hand lowering with the polite quest.

“Of course. I prefer to run him erect, but the firmness wanes with the exertion,” Penny explains.

The hand palpates, smoothing over ringed testicles the size of apples then palming the steel tube and lifting for closer examination. Comprehending the virility... such muscular brawn... Linda smiles. For it is totally under a woman’s authority. The sense of empowerment enraptures.

“When I see something like this, I have second thoughts about having Chrissy boy neutered. You’ve run him hard. He performs well for you.”

With her words, Linda’s finger finds the small patch of penile flesh exposed for frottaging. Her finger slowly circles. 88 fidgets in sensing the evanescent touch. The organ begins to engorge and Linda giggles like a school playing with a kitten.

“He’s quite priapic.”

“Kept totally chaste with daily testosterone injections. It offers women like us quite a thrill, wouldn’t you agree?” Penny informs with feigned haughtiness.

Linda nods as the steel tube rises to point skyward. She instinctively knows to retract her finger. Mission accomplished.

“If you’re staying for a few days, the day after tomorrow he’ll be ready for another jaunt. If you have not before whipped the bare buttocks of a well worked pony boy, you’ll find it to be quite addictive,” Penny offers.

“Back to Teterboro tomorrow evening. Just a short stay,” Kelly explains.

Linda steps to the side, appearing disappointed as, with a stroke of the sjambok and a throaty ‘haw’, Penny Osborne resumes her afternoon ride.

“I’d like to do that, Kelly. But you know I have to keep my penchant under wraps.”

“No need to worry here, Linda. This is Nusquam. You’d be surprised with the status of some of the members. Penny runs a sizable hedge fund. There are members in politics... high level politics. Executives, judges, celebrities. Plan to spend more time here. A girl tends to leave a lot of stress behind while stressing a subjugant. It can be quite cathartic.”

Chapter Fifty-Two

“Keep in mind that the subjugants are mostly masochists. They are tormented here... it’s their desire... a narcotic they both hate and crave. We accommodate, keeping them well bound when mobility is not required for servitude. Chaste always. Well fed, medical care unmatched. They live long healthy lives in constant pain... humiliation... degradation. We satiate their need.”

Kelly lectures as the duo approach the pump house door.

“It is best for them. There are exceptions. Miscreants, sociopaths deserving of special treatment. Michael Mansfield is one.”

With that, Kelly pulls open the pump house door, leading her friend Deputy United States Marshal Linda Rankin to the balcony overlooking the inferno of the Nusquam pump house... the subjugants’ final place of servitude. Linda is both amazed and concerned, the many large, muscular women of color stroking away... the rhythmical thwacks of the sjambok on buttocks well exposed.

Again, the scene not only impresses but the sounds and smells as well.

Just as with 128, Kelly verbally takes Linda through the pump house protocol. She notes that within moments the look of concern dissipates. Instead there comes a smile, a look of Schadenfreude. The forced labor... unending in the stifling heat of the windowless chamber... feeds her proclivity... oddly soothes.