Miss Elizabeth's Captive

‘Angel’s are asexual,’ I convinced myself. Such wonderful soothing hands. And his desire to knead and caress the gonads he no longer had was insatiable. Only conflicts in his schedule terminated my visits, most times having to prepare dinner for Miss Elizabeth.

Weekends were boring but punctuated with stupefyingly humiliating moments.

Arriving on Friday evenings immediately after work, the beginning routine was the same as the interim visits. Doff the clothing, don the cuffs, shave, shower. Only Jamie was in full make up and after my ablutions would change into very pretty clothes.

Miss Elizabeth seemed to enjoy rudimentary sensory deprivation, keeping me hooded most times and sometimes even plugging my ears. And Little Sam was ignored, physically. Visually I am sure he provided quite the amusement, standing instantly when freed of the CB-2000 and remaining stiff until the quiet isolation permitted my mind to wander and my libido to calm.

But to be freed was wonderful. And on those occasions when Jamie unlocked me in Miss Elizabeth’s presence. Groveling, I thanked her, hoping for possibly more than freedom.

But that was all...for week after week.

There were some changes and events which offset the hours and hours of boredom. One was the acquisition of a suspension harness. With pulleys available in both the examination room and the living room, Miss Elizabeth decided that a longer term and safer method for putting me on display would be advantageous over tensioning my neck collar. Thus, after testing the device in the examination room, I many times found myself encased in a webbing of strong nylon straps, all attached to a large steel ring which could readily be hooked to a pulley. Therefore when Miss Elizabeth had one of her notorious dinner parties, I dangled higher with penis and balls at shoulder height, apparently presenting myself in a most satisfying position for her Dominant friends.

And the one woman, whose notable throaty laugh accompanied her examining touch, so added to my frustration, making me squirm with pleasure in diddling of the underside of my glans penis, or lurch in shock as she laughingly dunked my testicles in the icy remnants of her drink.

Punishment for transgressions was simple. The CB-2000 was left locked in place while Jamie pranced about naked or nearly naked. On one horrid Saturday night, after Miss Elizabeth three times tossed crumbs of bread my way and having missed each opportunity to display obeisance with the offerings landing on the carpet, I found myself locked away for the duration. Whereas I discovered a level of self control at home and in the office, Little Sam finally learning that attempts to tumefy only resulted in pain, it was most difficult in Miss Elizabeth’s apartment with the naked ingenue Jamie running about and my psyche knowing what wonderful appendages, tongue and fingers, could be put to such ecstatic use. He was an amazing temptress.

So lying bound and naked on the shaggy rug in the bedroom, Little Sam encapsulated, I listened as Jamie once again serviced Miss Elizabeth ... and serviced ... and serviced. And after her usual multitude of orgasms, she took the time, apparently on her way to the bathroom, to toy with me.

I was lying on my side and felt the warmth of her feet and ankles straddling me and smelled her muskiness, perfume mingling with the feminine aroma of her many spendings. She sat on me, and my heart jumped thinking about my naked goddess being so proximate. My thigh, well shaven by way of Jamie’s alacritous hands, felt the heat of her loins as she used it as a low seat.

“Jamie so makes my juices flow, Sam.”

I felt her hand slide under my hood. Her index finger found my lips and nose. It was wet and fragrant.

“Wouldn’t you like to partake sometime?”

I extended my tongue and partook of her buttery essence. She withdrew and a moment later two fingers invaded the darkness of my hood. Amazingly wet, Jamie indeed had her flowing. I licked the digits dry as Little Sam began to fight for his freedom. The pain grew as she extended a third offering.

“I mean really partaking, Sam. There’s a way to free that wanton penis of yours. And you’ll never have to worry about a package arriving at the 35th floor. Matter of fact, you’ll never have to worry about anything ever again ... except serving me.”

She lowered herself further and pressed her mons into my thigh. I struggled against my bonds trying to free a hand from its confinement. I so wanted to touch her. My authoritative, dashing goddess.

She flicked the CB-2000, noting I am sure, Little Sam’s brash attempt to escape, then arose. She laughed. It was her devilish laugh.

“There’s no escape Sam. I can wait. It’s not my libido that’s being controlled under lock and key.”

And she merely moved on to the bathroom, leaving me to my thoughts, and my frustration.

Chapter Twenty

“Come over at lunchtime, Sam. You won’t be missed for an hour or two.”

Miss Elizabeth could be quite commanding, and when she called I always scrambled to turn off the speaker phone. Her stentorian voice carried and though never engaging in licentious conversation over the phone line, the tone of her voice left no doubt as to who was in charge.

I obeyed of course, always cognizant of the fact that every visit provided an opportunity to be relieved of the CB-2000. It was a Tuesday. I had never before been summoned on a Tuesday and had never sought interim relief on that day of the week.

Chapter Thirty Eight

My cuffs awaited in the foyer closet. I stripped, strapped on the strips of leather and rang. Miss Elizabeth answered the door. A first.

Though surprised, I obediently pulled my hands behind my back and turned. She clipped the wrist cuffs together.

“Thought you’d enjoyed watching something. Tuesday, Jamie is visited by his nurse. And I want you to see the level of care I provide. I think it will help with your decision.”

Though it was not clear to me what decision was expected, I followed Miss Elizabeth to the hallway leading to the bedrooms and the examination room. I expected to be showered and shaved. Instead, the examination room door was closed and Miss Elizabeth led me into the bedroom directly across the hall.

Miss Elizabeth directed me to the bed and I sat. She turned on the ultra modern plasma screen television and as suspected, the monitor was connected to the hidden camera in the examination room. There in full color, in amazing detail, sat Jamie. He was joyfully naked and attended by a white-uniformed woman of some thirty years or more.