Catamite Pt. 6

It was a better meal than he’d had on a long time, though eating too fast gave him indigestion. After the second course he’d tucked away a large bunch of grapes, three strawberries and an apple, the latter of which Annette neatly segmented for him with a little knife. Finally there was the breakfast liquor, a thick and pungent beverage quaffed from tiny glasses, fermented with the after taste of metals. Most women drank it for their health, more men abstained, but under Annette’s watchful eye he took it down with one swallow.


Phillip shifted in his chair, belly distended with all the food he’d gobbled. The maid was clearing up the dishes from the table. All this time the ever present body guards had lingered in the background, one of them holding the threatening alarm-orange picana.

“I don’t think the cut under your eye left a trace,” Annette said, standing up. She gave Phillip another pointed look. He leapt up from his chair and offered her his arm, which she waved away. “Come here, over by the desk.”

“Yes, my lady.” The delicious meal was slowly digesting, nobody was hitting him and he wasn’t alone in a room with only a view of the sky and a foam mat. Standing, he swayed a little, knees sagging underneath his immaculately pressed trousers.

The cherrywood desk she sat behind was clear, covered only in a padded blotter of deep burgundy and a small jar of pens in the shape of a sterling silver and topaz peacock. Annette posture was ramrod straight and her hands were placed on the blotter, right over the left. “Adam, you have been here for several weeks.”

Phillip had his hands behind his back, ever anxious. “Yes, my Lady?”

“You have probably realized that it is my intent to train you. I had despaired of your progress initially, but you seem to be showing some compliance. You will be what I want you to be.”

He could not tell if it was an order or a prediction.

“I will conditionally allow you some privileges. Understand that if you fail me, your punishment will be all the harder.”
She left a long pause, cuing him to respond again. He saw her expression was cool detachment as usual, with the smallest hint of a threat behind her little smile.

“Yes, my Lady?”

“Say it, Adam, say you will obey.” She enunciated every word clearly.

“I will obey.”

Her next moves were completely unexpected. She dismissed the maid with a wave of her hand and took a scarf from around her neck, a long piece of drab but soft striped. Taking both his wrists in her hands she backed him into a plumply upholstered sitting chair chair, shoving him lightly so he was forced to sit. She placed him so he sat straight and upright with his forearms resting on the arms of the chair. Then she fastened the scarf over his eyes, letting the excess fabric drape to seal out light gaps and winding its length twice around his head.


Blinded but not deaf, he heard her ask for rope, and felt her loop it around his chest and arms, securing it to the chair. Then she began to rub his thighs, massaging from his knees to his hips and playing with the waist of his pants. Her fingers found the buttons of his trousers, loosened, then pulled and tugged his underwear. A warm, feminine and soft skinned hand on his penis made him gasp.

She wasn’t precisely deft of experienced, but she gave the right mix of gentle and firm, gripping and jerking him to an erection. He squirmed in the seat and mumbled. “What…?”

“Enjoy it; I’m not going to make a habit of this.” Annette was teasing again, and friendly. “Just relax, Adam.”

Hot and sticky, viscous ejaculate followed after another few minutes of her massage and he gasped again, and bucked his hips. He felt the lip of something plastic scrape the head of his cock.

“There, I missed a drop. Now stay put Adam.”

She told him outright that the sample of semen was to test his sperm count, and the first of his new privileges was a bed with a mattress. As yet, no pillow or bedding, the narrow wooden bed frame his only piece of furniture. He stretched out in comparative luxury, over stuffed and drained in more ways than one. She’d taken his clothes back, but the mattress was the right mix of firm and soft and his belly was full. Now he had time to wonder what she wanted again.

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