Hands had to be freed for such undertakings, of course. And thus Jamie found a double reward in responding to my kindness and developing the skills I required... pleasing me... and simultaneously having his wrists released from the cruel cuffs and arm restraints.
And if you want to see a most fascinating sight, watch while pubescent boys apply cosmetics to each other in staged rehearsal. With their propensities known by way of extensive psychological testing, their reaction was as expected. But still they become giggling school girls, diligently working on lips, eye brows and lashes in trying to outdo each other in making a cohort appear more effeminate.
The summer continued that way... the staff placing Jamie in agony day in and day out. Me rescuing with my key. Small twists, small favors demanded in return, until it neared ti
me to leave for Brown. And that last week, the ‘favors’ began in earnest. By that time we had bonded, particularly during nightly sessions in which I would have Jamie masturbated. And sometimes, if he begged, I had him stroked to climax.
Chapter Ten
“Shall we eat, Sam?”
“I’ll need to use my hands,” I logically pointed out.
Sitting cuffed, I had listened attentively. It was frightening but fascinating, as Liz suggested, picturing truckling boys gleefully learning to use makeup and reacting so subserviently to Dominant women.
“That won’t be necessary, Sam,” Liz countered my subtle request for freedom.
Liz stood and approached. She was so stunning in the black leather. There was a projected sinister beauty, suggesting an evil which could not be resisted.
“Come. We’ll be served in the dining room.”
She reached under my standing penis and palmed my scrotum. Fingers manipulated in arranging the testicles within and then thumb and index finger circled the base. She gently pulled and squeezed with just enough pressure to hasten my compliance in leaning forward to stand. It was obviously not the first time she had so led about a male. Her hand worked with just enough tension to send her message of authority and control without creating pain. But with resistance, such would come...quickly and applied with ease. Her mastery was well communicated.
She turned and walked stretching her arm and closed hand behind. I of course followed. Into the dining room where she sat and I began to move toward a waiting chair.
“No Sam, here. On the floor. Kneel like a good boy.”
She tugged downward. I knelt. Jamie pranced from the kitchen and Liz released her grip.
“Lobster bisque,” she gaily announced. “Jamie’s soups are superb.”
Liz tore a small corner of bread from a roll and tossed it lightly. It arched upwards then descended to hit my chin, appearing just above the surface of the table, and tumbled to the floor.
“You’re going to be very hungry, Sam,” a smiling Liz observed. “Let’s try again. No soup until you develop the right attitude.”
Another piece torn, another toss. This one I caught it my lips. After all, I was hungry.
Jamie served Miss Elizabeth then and, for whatever reason, placed a bowl of steaming, fragrant bisque before me. Laced with sherry it smelled rich. The margaritas had peaked my appetite. Liz began to eat.
“If Sam would like some soup, Sam had better be more attentive to Jamie’s housekeeping. There’s bread on the floor.”
Liz was more than hinting at a certain hierarchy to be established. It was not Jamie’s task to clean up the carpet from my mishap.
“He’s nice enough to clean your trousers, Sam.”
Both Liz and Jamie just looked at me until I finally bent at the waist, parted my knees to steady myself and then without use of hands found the piece of bread with my lips. I ate it.
My task completed, Jamie came to my side and stood uncomfortably close, brushing his nakedness against mine. For the first time I noticed his extensive makeup. I had either missed the eye shadow upon arrival, gazing instead at the supple buttocks and chastised penis, or Jamie had been preening himself while Liz narrated her story. My hostess noticed my examining look.
“Jamie’s prettied himself for you Sam. I told you he likes you.”
For some reason, Liz felt I should somehow express a degree of attraction or pay a compliment. I could not. Though cuffed and naked, kneeling in the presence of a fully clad woman…eating off the carpet, my flesh brushing against the hairless epidermis of a hermaphrodite... my machismo remained.
Liz picked her spoon and began to consume the rich reddish brown soup, almost appearing to be a stew with the sizable chunks of lobster. Jamie picked my spoon in turn, dipped it in the bowl, then held it for me to purse my lips and gently blow to a acceptable temperature. Now his nails were not only manicured and polished but coated with a thick glossy blue. The shade matched his eyes which the eye shadow so alluring highlighted. Jamie had indeed been professionally trained. He could make himself up to look very sweet and in his complete nakedness, his perfectly white Scandinavian skin was like a blank canvass on which a skilled artist could paint a masterpiece. His nipples were rouged and after three spoonfuls of richness, I finally summoned the fortitude to glance at his privates. His cute empty scrotal sac, showing no signs of having been marauded and mined of its jewels, was also rouged to an attractive shade of pink, matching his nipples.
Little Sam defied me. After Liz relinquished her grip, he calmed for a time. But Jamie’s presence made something click and in feeling the heat of Jamie’s proximity, he rose again. Jamie noticed and seemed to smile with an odd pride of craftsmanship at the reaction.
Liz also noticed, smiled coyly and gratefully resumed her story.