A Woman's Servant 2

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Friday Evening with Miss Evers.

“You look ridiculous!” Miss Evers blurts with a shrill laugh.

Christy is at the front door and curtsies, formal deportment and service demanded whenever I have a guest. Then veiling her embarrassment as much as possible, she steps to the side, head bowed, silently inviting entry.

After Monday’s meeting with the Dean, quite the deep pegging from her strap on, Christy invited Miss Evers to dinner as I commanded. She decided upon Friday and thus Christy is in full maid’s attire responding to Miss Evers’ brash long ring of my door buzzer.

Yes, in a way, Christy looks silly, wearing her black cap with frilly white lace. There is the white bodice with black trim modified to expose her underdeveloped breasts, a black skirt with white trim which resembles the tutu of a ballet dancer. There is almost no coverage below the waist, making her chastity device quite evident, and leaving those marvelously effeminate buttocks completely uncovered. For footwear there are the skimpy extraordinarily high heels, forcing her to almost walk on her toes. For special effect, to more or less enthuse Miss Evers, I have connected Christy’s heels together with a slim decorative chain, forcing tiny dainty steps. If Miss Evers thinks she looks ridiculous, observing Christy’s attempts to move will bring great hilarity.

“Welcome, Miss Evers, so nice of you to join us,” I say stepping to the door to join the duo.

“It’s Judy... and thank you for inviting me. I so much enjoy spending time with Christy... she’s so humble... so obedient.”

“Yes, quite malleable. She began as more of a houseboy. Now she’s all maid. Some wine?” I offer, assuming Judy Evers is old enough to drink

“Yes, thank you.”

I nod to Christy and gesture toward the kitchen. She begins her cumbersome journey, nearly toppling, the many tiny footsteps jiggling the buttocks and causing the n****e tassels to gyrate with vigor.

And yes, as I direct to the living room, Miss Evers laughs with zeal, bringing forth a wondrous pink blush of humiliation with so much of Christy on display.

“Pheasant with saffron rice for dinner. Christy is becoming quite the cook. She works very hard to please.”

To the living room, we sit. Christy serves us. We talk, girls stuff. Judy Evers is young and ravishing. In assisting the Dean, one of us, she is an apt apprentice, stripping Christy naked on each visit and watching lustily as the altered male endures the ultimate comeuppance, being anally taken by a woman.

“I was surprised by the anal plug on Christy’s last visit with the Dean. Wouldn’t that tend to open her a little too much?”

“Yes. I do prefer her tight, but I wanted her well lubricated for the Dean, and in filling her boy p***y with Vaseline, I decided it was best to plug her so she wouldn’t stain her dress. Hope it wasn’t an inconvenience.”

“Not at all. And the Dean penetrated quite facilely. Christy really enjoys getting a good fucking.”

“It’s the chastity. The prostate gland screams for attention. And of course deep within the humiliation of submitting also brings forth the strange enjoyment of the masochistic submissive. She hates it... but she loves it.”

Speaking as if Christy is not present serves to objectify, a dog owner discussing her pet. I look up to see Christy almost in tears with the frustration. She has yet to fully understand herself... her dire need for governance and odd enjoyment of the humiliation that comes with it.

“Dinner is ready, Ma’am,” a timid voice informs.

We move to the dining room. Christy serves soup. Miss Evers continues to be a sponge, soaking up every tidbit of a woman’s supreme authority over a needy former male.

“Is she ever freed of her cockcage?”

“Yes, within there’s a nasty teeth bracelet encircling the tender flesh at the tip of the p***s that for the most part will deny erections. I like using the CB-6000 as well so that she cannot see her penis... and there are certain points of steel within that will bring suffering with the slightest twinge. It is almost as if simply thinking about an erection will cause agony.”

My words bring a devilish smile. I pause as she chuckles, then continue to tally, Christy has been neutered. When her p***s does become hard, it is only for my amusement... never for hers. And of course there is never climactic relief permitted. Orgasms are for me... not for Christy. And she has learned to enjoy offering pleasure rather than receiving.”

“Is that healthy?”

“The p***s will probably regress to the point that in a few years erection will not be achievable whether locked in steel or not. It’s a mental and emotional process. But for now, the p***s will remain effectively encased in barbed wire. I do milk her from time to time, mainly so she doesn’t drool on the carpet and furniture. But as for treatment for the prostate... who cares?”

The pleasant smile of Judy Evers turns to a smirk in agreeing.

“Yes, I noticed icky goo when the Dean takes her. Is that what that is?”

“Prostatic fluid. Her male glands are preparing for ejaculation... which will never come, of course. So it builds and from time to time needs to be addressed.”

“Milked?”

“That’s the common term. Anally penetrated. Being fanny f****d will spur some flow, but it is best to perform a long slow milking, insert two fingers, and hook downward when on all fours, knead a flat spot... a plateau... just behind the anus. If she’s good I’ll ice her so the p***s will not firm and bring pain. When she’s bad... no ice. She just suffers... deservedly.”

Christy obediently stands nearby at the ready, the blushing continuous.

“I’d like to see her without the cockcage sometime. A girl with a p***s seems... interesting.”

I nod and crook my finger. Christy instantly shuffles forth as I reach for the keys, hanging on an ever present necklace. I snap open the small padlock on the CB-6000 and then remove it. Into view comes what is really a nice sized p***s, very low mileage, ringed at the tip in shiny steel. Judy Evers observes with the exacting interest of a curious scientist.

“That won’t come off? She can’t take it off?”

“Unseen, within the interior diameter, are dozens of precisely milled very sharp angled points. The clever design is such that it screws on... gently and slowly... without much discomfort. But screwing it off... the spikes dig in. Yes, she can try, but the results would turn the penile flesh raw. Probably require many days to heal in order to permit the sought after masturbation.”

Judy Evers nods in understanding.

“Obviously within that time frame the governing woman would know something is amiss.”

“I think she’s drooling a bit now,” Judy correctly observes.

“Yes, I have not milked her in two weeks. Tomorrow, every other Saturday, is the schedule.”

Soup finished, Christy clears, from the right, her feet frantically tapping away. A brazen Judy reaches to the exposed buttocks, smoothes her hand about, smiling with the hairless softness.

“Do you fanny spank her?”

“No. That form of punishment is too mundane. There are so many other methods for applying discipline. I prefer long and slow... the mental as important as the physical.”

Judy becomes emboldened, pinching Christy’s left cheek then reaching to the p***s with her free hand.

“Does she like being caressed?” the question posed as the fingers dance and a surprisingly experienced stroke is applied.

As I reply, she assesses, authoritatively palming the testicles, the p***s somewhat slick with prostatic fluid. Far from shy, Miss Evers has before handled the male organ.

“Of course. The residue of being male. She will soak up your joyful touch for about twenty seconds. Then the teeth bracelet will remind her of her place... strict chastity.”

Sure enough, Christy grimaces as the knowing touch reaps its intended reward. A merciful Miss Evers releases the organ, the slight swelling bringing instant pain.

“Yes, the ring works well. Someday I’d like to masturbate her... a nice slow hand job... teeth bracelet remaining in place, of course.”

Such a charming minx, desiring to torture a male utilizing his vaunted phallus, quite precocious this Judy Evers.

“I’ll have a spare key made for the cockcage.”