Isle World part 3
Young Men and Shopping
Every youth of 18 is led on shopping expeditions by Domina family members. There are so many things to buy on maiden summer sprees before ETT Therapy! Innumerable, indispensable necessities! Cute, cared-for, properly-supervised mens’ daily needs.
Hair care (mousse, barrettes, ribbons, and more) - to foot lotion and toenail laquer. And everything in between!
First on the list: neck collars with homing device, wrist and ankle cuffs. Light, comfortable, unbreakable metal covered by soft white rubber (unlocked for baths). D-rings on each.
Next: A Male Care Purse (“Purse”) with a Discipline Diary (DD) inside. Both in supple white leather, inscribed with mother’s and sister’s names. In public, a man’s Purse is in the crook of his right arm or around his neck. (Exceptions include Discipline, Mens Rooms, and other delicate situations).
Third: Piercings for rings. The minimum are nose, earlobes, and nipples.
Toilet & Toilette with Cousin Emma
… Cousin Emma woke me next morning (mother must have arranged it). She was actually 20, on leave from the Army. Dark brown hair pageboy style, empathetic green eyes, sweet gentle smile, cleft chin.
Naturally, as a young man, Emma’s body thrilled me. A wet dream in her heel sandals. She was (still is) tall, voluptuous and quite obviously powerful. Wide shoulders, thick muscular arms and legs, generous titties and bottom. Long elegant feet and toes.
I masturbated over young Dominas like her. I asked my sister Adele (ever so meek and pleading) to take us to media shops for boys. Nothing X-rated, mind you.
Books, magazines, DVDs, music CDs, 3-D posters. All catering to my natural fascination with gorgeous teen idol Dominas in heel sandals with sexy dresses, military uniforms, and college girl outfits. Often, lucky guys kneeling and sucking their toes.
Males (including dads) can’t use money or purchase anything. So I had to ask Adele to buy the stuff for me. She was a good sister. After inspecting my coveted items, she usually bought them. Embarrassing, but worth it.
I showed my dream girls to dad when we got home, and he shared my excitement. Sometimes too much. We always had a live-in Governess or Nursemaid. When dad yelled or got vulgar, she led him downstairs by one of his rings. To the Discipline Room. Adele and I weren’t supposed to know what happened there. Yeah, right.
Emma looked like those big dreamy girls. I was shocked that first morning. She was sucking my penis like a popsicle. I’m used to it, now.
Every morning since, my important Dominas do that before taking me to the bathroom. My girlfriends, my wife, her close friends, a Governess or Nursemaid, the Bath Girl, cousins and in-laws. I finally learned why.
Emma stood beside me in a college girl outfit (white blouse, black pleated skirt, pastel heel sandals). I was on the toilet, straining. Trying to … poop for her. Her words. “Richard, poop for me like a good boy.”
It was hopeless. I’d never “pooped for” anybody before. And even older men get constipated with a new or infrequent Domina. Emma filled a huge round enema bulb, clamped my head between her legs. I squealed as her greasy gloved middle finger penetrated my rectum.
Within minutes, I desperately wanted to poop. But it’s never that simple. A man has to wait the allotted time, a tight plug in his anus. Excruciating minutes, churning bowels.
Emma kicked off her heels to bathe me. Heavens, the way she bathed my genitals with bare hands! Luckily, I couldn’t cum. She squeezed an ampoule under my nose. It prevents ejaculation up to two hours, infinitely less painful than scrotum pinches.
At the vanity table. Emma removed my sleeping cap, combed my hair. Yuck. Yesterday at the Beauty Salon, Adele had them style my shoulder-length brown hair in curlers. Now I had the glossy ringlets of a demure Southern belle.
Male makeup. A one-piece gingham pinafore that fell only a few inches lower than my fanny.
Then on the enema bench, prone and supine, for perfume oil on my genitals and fanny. Low sandals. Emma said I had cute little feet, especially with the pedicure yesterday.
She guided me downstairs. Mother and Adele were waiting. Short pastel sundresses and heels. I rendered O. Mother said, “Don’t worry, Adele, he’ll be much better after ETT Therapy.”
After a quick, filling breakfast, we were on our way.
Driving and Dining
Riding in a car over 18 isn’t a boy’s carefree journey. Dire emergencies and exempted professions apart, men travel in tightly constricting Male Carriers (“Carriers”). Mother led me to one, elevated on a table.
It resembles a baby safety seat in many respects, only larger with more features. Men face backwards. Chin platform with vertical bar in front, chest plate, arm restraints, padded knee struts, waist binding straps, horizontal lower leg and ankle rests. Tummy bolster to thrust fanny out, opening below that to bare genitals.
With practiced skill, mother swiftly strapped me tight with Velcro bindings. Emma pinched my nostrils closed to open my mouth, stuffed it with her used panties. Mother then bound my head to the chin platform and bar.
Bound so tight, I almost panicked. I could wriggle my toes a bit, blink my eyes, and breathe. That’s it. Adele carried me to the car, in the back seat, and sat beside me. I could only stare straight at the rear window. Or so I thought. Then Adele began fondling my oiled genitals.
“Gonna be a long trip, honey. Mother wants your 3 Basics done at a place her family’s used for generations. Four hour trip. We’ll stop at a diner half way there. Enjoying Emma’s tasty used panties? Whoa! Your prick is twitching like mad! I’ll gauge your testicles. Hmm. Pretty full. Good precum flow, too.”
She and mother had a long conversation as we rode at 120 mph. Adele unstrapped me under a tree outside the diner. I was sore and creaky for a bit. “Need to pee?” I certainly did. Adele held my dingus at the outdoor trough for a long time.
She led me into the diner, a more elegant place than the name implies. Wood paneling and floors, tinted mirrors, multiple TV monitors tuned to sports. I was entranced by Domina Wrestling.
Mother had ordered for us. Same for her and Adele, different for me. No surprise there. Dominas and men have disparate diets. I drank two large mugs of yummy Nutrition Milk. It was new to me, something only men drink. With every meal.
Our waiter, naked but for frilly apron and running shoes, was obviously gaga about mother. His prick erected every time he approached our table. Mother said, “His fanny is remarkable, two enormous shapely pears of male beauty”.
A Domina hostess came by, big friendly mature Amazon with white hair. Skirt, blouse, heels.
“Everything fine here folks?” Yes. “Mighty cute boy you have. I reckon he needs a good spankin’. Not now, darlin’ has to digest his food”.
A motorcycle gang drove up as we left. Dominas on big machines, naked men draped and tied under their noses. The women without men looked at me in scary ways.
An hour later my stomach was grumbling as Adele tickled my bunched testicles. “Do you have to poop?” “For a long time.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I don’t know.”
A perennial problem for young men. Too modest and shamed to say, “I have to poop”. Mother pulled over at the next roadside rest area.
Boy, did I ever! When I finished, Adele took me to a shaded spanking stool, and across her lap. Oh, how I cried! I promised to always tell her from now on. I didn’t.
Shopping with Mother and Adele
We finally reached the place. Melinda’s Emporium. “Men’s Accoutrements, Necessaries, Piercings – and Domina Things” . A palace in the middle of nowhere. Young Domina waiting for us at the door.
“Ooh, such a pretty frock, shame I must remove it. Sandals too, please. Spread those chubby legs for me. Nice. Full scrotum. Erect prick. Come this way.”
The first thing I noticed was plush red carpet under my bare feet. That’s rare. At home, most floors everywhere are wood of some kind.
Chandeliers. Accent lighting in small recessed alcoves – Discipline instruments, butt plugs, piercing rings, cuffs and neck collars, Purses and Discipline Diaries. Other expensive looking items.
Bach and Vivaldi from hidden speakers. Leather chairs and couches that faced gleaming spanking stools.
A dozen naked men my age up on stools. Posing for mothers, sisters, and store advisors. Legs apart, hands clasped behind necks, dripping erections. Or bent hands on knees, bunched scrotums swaying.
Some were a few years older. It was obvious from the size and shape of genitals and fannies, prominence of nipples, even lips of their mouths.
A tall Domina approached, in mid-thigh black lace and heels. Jet black hair high in a bun, her skin pearlescent, titties juddering under the dress. Apparently a dear friend of mother. They kissed and embraced like lovers.
“Children, this is Melinda. We went to school together, the Navy, and college later. Close Dominas call her Mel.”
Mel kissed Adele deeply. Exciting. Then I felt a hand on and under my fanny, lifting me in the air. I swooned from her ravenous kisses. Adele said I lifted my left leg like a love struck virgin.
Well, I’m a virgin, all right. The first dildoe up my rectum will be on my wedding night. But love struck? I never even had a girlfriend yet.
Mel led us to a group. Four gorgeous Dominas seated around a naked man. Mel said he was 24.
A Vain Man and His Prince Albert
He was cute and well-built, no question about it. But only another male could see how outrageously vain he was. It was preening Pride. His wife would have her hands full.
The Dominas were his mother, sister, Nursemaid, and fiancée. The latter just had him pierced and fitted with a sparkling silver Prince Albert ring. Emerging from his enormous purple cockhead, I must admit it looked very sexy. He knew it, too.
As Mel led us away, I asked Adele, “Did you notice how vain he is?” “Not really, he looked coy and demure to me. Desirable. Prince Alberts are amazing”. I realized Dominas have blind spots.
Collar, Cuffs, & Things
First, every inch of my body was measured by a laser scanner. Probes went into my mouth, anus, and rectum. Even my tongue was scanned.
Mel herself brought several styles of collars and cuffs for me to model. Mother and Adele agreed on a black and silver type. They were immediately locked onto me. It felt strange.
Then came rings. The decision was 1.5 inch circumference to start me. Earlobes, nipples, and septum. I was strapped to a workroom table, crying, holding mother’s hand. A Domina technician used a hand-held steel device. It didn’t hurt badly as I feared.
Suddenly, I wanted the rings on me right away. I cried again when told the piercings had waxy antiseptic plugs. They stay in for two weeks before rings are inserted. Adele hissed in my ear. “Behave or I’ll march you to a spanking stool”.
Discipline Diary, Purse Goodies, & Aching Testicles
Mel brought my Discipline Diary. One page for each day. Video, audio, computer, and telephonic capabilities, all recordable. The complete daily account (electronic input and written) of my bodily care and functions, deportment and behavior, appearance and attitude.
Toilet, bath, primping. Pees and poops. Butt plugs, fondlings, cums, even kisses. Misbehavior, Naughty words and actions, poor courtesy, lustful leers, Peeping (even I think it’s vulgar). The list goes on.
Plus, of course, daily Discipline. Young men between 18 and 21 get severe daily spankings, along with other proper Discipline.
To put it bluntly. Daily, until his 21st birthday, a young man will while about an hour naked and screaming across Dominas’ laps. For starters! Many men of every age get no less, or more.
Mother and Adele would initially use my DD most. But any Domina can read, use, and communicate with it. Just as she may, at her discretion, strip and Discipline any man in her vicinity.
A DD has an electronic connection to a man’s neck collar. In the ghastly event they separate beyond a set distance, a piercing alarm goes out. From his collar, and from the wristwatches of at least two of his Dominas.
My first DD (I received a new one at marriage) was beige. Its cover had 3-D photos of mother and Adele in their finery. And naked me, in my most embarrassing moments.
A man can’t open, read, or otherwise know what Dominas put in his DD. Unless a woman allows him a morsel. His normal curiosity is always inflamed.
Adele ostentatiously spoke out her first entry as she wrote it down. “Richard didn’t tell me he had to poop until the last minute. There wasn’t even time to take his frock off. I supervised his copious defecation at a rest stop. I then spanked him 17 minutes at 9 strokes for Disobedience and False Pride. He promised to be good.”
Then my Purse. Every man carries one, filled by his Domina(s). Inside is his DD. Other typical items include:
… two wooden hand spankers; 10 and 20 inch straps; tawse; 18 inch cane with foldable handle (9-inch lengths screw in like pool cue); 3 suppositories; 2 enema nozzles; rectal grease; surgical gloves;
… Discipline “Salve”; vial of frigging/genital/fanny oil; compact makeup; 1 new butt plug; 2 used Domina panties in separate baggies; 2 packs travel tissues.
Mel brought out my matching Purse. As mother’s loving friend, she had filled it with the above items. Adele loved the short Spanking Spencer. It’s pure bloody hell.
I was out of sorts. My scrotum stung and ached. I badly needed to cum. Mother noticed the signs – my feet turned inward, toes upward curling, low moans.
She quickly squatted between my legs. “Gauged” (hefted, palped, and squeezed) my scrotum. Milked precum from my cockhead, checked it for consistency and odor.
A man gets very needy after a hard spanking. More when a squatting Domina gauges and milks him – even if she’s his mother. She looked at Mel.
In a trice, I was straddling Mel’s bare thigh, toes in the air, while she frigged me with oil-slick fingers. A young Domina employee caught my cum in a vacuum funnel.
Return, Lola, Reverie
I’m taken back there, even now, at least once a year. Most recently by Sandra and a college girl Police Cadet, with my son Evan. But one visit stands out.
It was three years later, I was 21. Veteran of ETT Therapy year (after recuperation) and two years of ferocious “blooming” spankings. Dominas on both sides of the family avidly put me naked across their laps. Also mother’s many friends.
If that wasn’t sufficient, we had a new live-in Governess on a three year contract. A tall, tan, tawny, curvaceous girl from Brazil, where cute men are scarce (slave harems start with the Queen) and big beauties seethe.
Lola, 20, had the magnificent bottom her country is renowned for. To my thrilled surprise, she enjoyed anal worship. I crawled under her black lace Governess dress at every opportunity and slurped with greedy abandon.
Warm hearted and passionate, Lola enjoyed all aspects of handling men. And yet, she had the feline ferociousness of a true Governess. Every day, I got at least one savage spanking from Lola. She thrashed dad ragged. She tucked me in bed at night. Dad and I loved her.
Male Miseries In Cars
Lola and my current girlfriend took dad and me to Mel’s store. Four hours in a Carrier is tough, even with a diner break and rest stop.
Especially with a nasty butt plug under my frock. Dad, in the front passenger seat beside Governess, had one too. But dad’s rectal grease was a cousin of Genital Ointment. Poor dad. Our butt plugs were removed, lubricated, and reinserted three times each way.
On the return trip, we both had to poop. After wiping, the ladies cuffed us naked to whipping posts, hands high. By golly, a fire tempered leather strop gives evil lashings! I was almost glad when my butt plug was reinserted.
We had to render O before driving off. “In humble gratitude”. Darn uncomfortable with a huge butt plug in my guts, my fanny on fire.
An upside, unless you count sopping used panties in our mouths, was being fondled for most of the trip. Dad later said Lola tickled his jewels to bliss with her oiled fingers. The car was on auto-pilot most of the way, steering wheel retracted.
My girlfriend was only 18, but she was an expert fondler. By the time we got home, precum cups were brimming.
Shopping, Fun & Not
Governess and girlfriend wanted to travel to Mel’s place, to buy specialty items, including accursed butt plugs.
Mel came by and introduced herself to my Dominas. I was at a disadvantage. Bent hands on knees, trembling atop a high bench, anus level with my girlfriend’s chin.
The fingers of one hand spreading my bottomcleft, with the other she was inserting a new type of butt plug. Chemically treated oval nubs of varying sizes, eccentric shape. Only Governess’ steady hand on my shoulder kept me from falling.
“Butt plugs are virgin stuff, Richard. Little more than my middle finger, really. Just wait till wedding night, and your wife’s dildoe. There’s always blood on the sheets next morning.” I shivered.
My two Dominas bought all the new butt plugs. They bought other things for me, some delightful. One was ear, nipple, and nose rings with bells. I sounded like a wind chime at every step.
For themselves, they got dresses, heel sandals, and thong panties. Footstools, hose (toes bare), and garter belts.
Developing Male Beauty
Mel asked if we’d like to see something special. It was a video of my first visit, 3-D photos of naked me, my body measurements. And if that wasn’t enough, my cum volume.
Mother, herself nude, obsessively measures the entire naked family three times annually. But she never tells me. I’d love to know my “bottomcleft depth”, what my fanny weighs, among other things.
What Mel showed me was incredible. Her video and photos showed I was a reedy youth back then. Genitals, fanny, even my nipples were modestly pubescent. I had thought my body was pretty hot. I looked like a boy.
My body measurements at 18 were starker. In comparison, three years on, they’re eye-popping. Just a few mature examples. My cockhead is nearly triple in size and girth – and it’s bright purple! Scrotum, likewise.
My hips grew 10 solid inches around. My fanny now is … masculine. Bottomcheeks so heavy I walk differently. My bottomcleft must be oiled or powdered to the anus, and inspected often as my genitals. If not, I suffer awful chafing.
My fanny is too deep for Adele’s middle finger to reach my anus unless she burrows in past her knuckle. My bottom is shapely, ponderous, profound. Made for spankings.
And did I mention … sensitive? Oh, mercy me! It takes about eight weeks to fully recover from medical, surgical, and neurological Enhancements.
That’s when my Clinic Nursemaid frigged me for the first time (heavenly bliss!). And when my Enema Nurse let me poop normally (better than the alternatives!)
That same day, my Clinic Governess gave me her first spanking. It took my breath away. The worst Adele had given me over the past summer (which is the worst possible) paled to insignificance. Molten agonies I never dreamed of in my wildest nightmares.
Dr. Lisa Tells Me Some Facts of Life
At first I thought it was my Governess. She was good, but no. At the next doctor’s appointment, I was straddling her right thigh, facing the Domina doctor. It was more tricky with my bigger scrotum. I asked.
“Why do my spankings hurt so very much worse?”
Doctor Lisa seemed about my mother’s age. Which means she barely looked older than my girlfriend.
Light brown pageboy, piercing blue eyes, square chin. Sexy dress with deep cleavage under open white lab coat, shapely thick thighs and calves. Large elegant feet and toes, bare in heel sandals, shiny residual saliva on right instep.
“Richard, look at me, not my feet. Although I’m flattered. Your fanny Enhancements haven’t just affected development, size and shape. Sensitivity, resilience, and responsiveness are also changed.”
“I won’t muddle your pretty head with words like “genetic diffusion”, “nano-biology”, “nerve ending multiples”, and other hard things.”
“Think of it like this. Your fanny has been changed and improved, inside and out, in many different ways. Governess, kindly position him.”
I was rump-up on the examination table, bottomcleft widely spread by my Governess, with a mirror near my eyes. I saw what a man rarely does – my inner bottomcleft and anus.
The doctor stroked inside my right cheek. Put a finger on my anus.
“See the lovely bottomcleft coloring? We call it Peaches and Cream. Now look at your tight pink anus. That’s called Spring Rose. A young man would be proud if a beautiful Domina saw them. And, believe me, there are many reasons Dominas do.”
“Would you believe that, before Enhancements, all this was muddy dark brown and blotchy? All the way down to your anus? Don’t you look much better now? Of course you do. Governess, put him back on your leg.”
“Richard, look in my eyes. Good. Now. Your fanny is much cuter today. It’s much more sensitive, so spankings and other Discipline will hurt much more. And at the same time, it’s much more resilient. A few hours after terrible spankings, it will be clear and pristine again.”
“That’s important for young men like you. Because your fanny needs to develop further. It hasn’t bloomed to its full beauty, size, and shape. Frequent severe spankings make fannies bloom.”
“In the year here, that’s assured. My staff and I will meet with your family Dominas. We’ll emphasize how important it is. For your physical development, psychological health, and emotional stability. For your future – every Domina I know, including myself, was first smitten by her future husband’s fanny.”
I didn’t know whether to scream or cry. So I asked a question.
“Why do we always have to look at Dominas’ feet during spankings?”
“Where would you rather look?” I was flummoxed. No idea.
Comments
Post a Comment