A Gift From James

There were things that still needed to be arranged. I let James wait before the cage and watch me perform my ominous preparations.

First another inflatable nozzle for his rectum. A little different then the enema nozzle, this one was designed to slowly feed liquid into the lower intestines. In this case liquid nourishment.

“Spread for me. Head down.”

It slid in effortlessly. He was squeaky clean there and nicely lubricated. While his forehead was on the rug I used the occasion to grasp his erection and pull it back toward me between his thighs.

Yes, I catheterized many males at the psychiatric ward, all under varying circumstances and conditions. An erection adds a degree of difficulty, but also a degree of enjoyment. And for poor James the foley was sitting right there on top of the cage. There was no sense waiting for flaccidity to return.

Normally with young males I take my time. But there was much to do. Thus James escaped the slow torment, which can be applied in catheterization, but the tip still took its toll. Particularly when it passed through his excited prostate gland. I could not help laughing when he jumped.

He could not do otherwise. The little inflatable tip was pumped with water making it impossible to expel from his bladder. James would not need to consider bathroom trips for awhile.

Wrist and ankle cuffs were next, then his collar. He was accustomed to the routine.

“Into the cage James. Face to the front bars.”

He complied even with the tubing and I secured his cuffs to the bars. This time I wanted him squatting on his haunches with his wrists drawn back and just above his shoulders, a much more comfortable position than kneeling.

But there was one more item, a good sized, Teflon gag-reflex tube which remained atop the cage unnoticed among other items.

I rolled the hood over his head. As usual he began to lick my hand and I was ready. I pinched and held his tongue with the fingers of my left hand. His extended tongue left him unable to close his mouth, my right hand inserted the gag-reflex tube.

A male can fight it for a while, but when the tube knocks on the esophagus two or three times, the reflex almost always causes concession. So when I felt the throat open, I pushed. The soft flexible hose easily slid to his stomach.

Cruel? Yes. But James would need sustenance. And my program required that I control it. I sat back and surveyed my toy. Every aperture was under my domain, except his nose, which was needed for breathing and would also be used to entice him with the fragrance of my excitement.

I secured his hood to the bars along with his collar, completely immobilizing is head. When finished, goose bumps formed with my giddy reaction. The power was thrilling. Complete subjugation of the male beast. And the thought of the newly acquired money was pure icing atop a delicious cake named James.

While I connected the tubes to various bags and receptacles, I explained to James his situation.

“You’ll feel liquids entering your stomach, James. It’s a slow drip of nourishment. You may feel the same in your intestines. That again is nourishment combined with a very mild sedative introduced through your rectum. Since you’re going to be in your cage for quite a while, the drug will help you settle and relieve any potential muscle cramps.

“You’ve obviously been catheterized. Thus, there’s no reason for you to leave the cage. And since you’ve been internally well cleansed, you won’t experience a bowel movement for days.

“The sedative may cause you to hallucinate more than usual. My advice is to ride with it. Let your dreams flow. Since you’re now wealthy, more can be realized than ever before. Think of how well you can spend it in serving me and what a nice gift you’ll present to me at the spa.”

With my last statement, I opened the valves of the clear plastic bags of specially formulated liquid. Alice had left me with a prescription for the sedative, which was easily introduced into the maze of tubes. A collecting bag in the back of the cage began to slowly fill with the excretion from James’ catheter.

My last function was to place the headphones over his head and turn on the new tape. Whatever doubt I had concerning his receptivity to the subliminal messages had long past. The malleability of James’ mind had been exhibited nicely over the past few weeks. The question was how much I could interject in a short period of time.

It was January 27. James’ good fortune brought about a myriad of new ideas. The first was our trip. The Canadian spa was only accessible by train. With James’ recently acquired extensive cash flow, why not travel in style? I brought the portable phone into my bedroom, not wishing to leave James in the initial moments of his long journey. I began a long string of calls.

First. A call to an interesting establishment which leased private rail cars. This was simple, many opulent private cars of the late nineteenth century had been restored and were available for lease, particularly in mid winter.

I chose two. A sleeper and a lounge car. The cost compared to James’ new income was a paltry sum.

A call to Amtrak revealed a train left Chicago for St. Paul on the following Thursday, February 2. The private cars could be attached and a surprisingly pleasant coordinator suggested it was possible to hire a locomotive to take us across the border to Calgary.

With a call to the spa, I arranged for our private cars to be connected to their private train departing Calgary on February 5.

As the pieces fell together, thoughts of traveling across the countryside with James serving me as he approached his sexual Waterloo aroused me. By the time I called Alice, my fingers had worked under my uniform and were endeavoring to quench the sexual thirst my fantasies had developed.

“Alice, be ready to leave early. We’re traveling in luxury and it’s all on James.”

I took Alice through the set of events and the revised plans. She also became excited.