Personally hand-picked by Truant Finder General Sabra herself, First Warden Dora Miseki holds absolute power over the Chainsgate maximum security prison.
Even before being elevated to the role of First Warden, Miseki had proven herself time and time again as one of the most dedicated and relentless Correctices in the employ of the Asbethserilian Ministry of Truants. Her unhortodox breaking techniques along with her absolute determination to bring troublemakers and criminals to justice, allowed her to rapidly climb the ranks of the Ministry and earned her the praise of the Truant Finder General, who appreciated her pragmatic and result oriented approach.
Therefore, when Chainsgate was finally completed warden Miseki was among those taken in consideration for running the supermax prison, and no one was surprised in the least when the Truant Finder General chose her for the role of First Warden.
As First Warden of Chainsgate Dora Miseki enjoys absolute authority over the prisoners in her care and spares no efforts to fully rehabilitate even the most die-hard rebels. Through the judicious application of the tried and tested Torean method of breaking a slave’s spirit before reshaping her mentally and physically, Chainsgate’s First Warden has developed an impressive record of successes.
Gifted with prodigious memory, keen intuition, and a devious and ruthless mind, Miseki prides herself in knowing even the most minute details about each an every prisoner in her care, using that knowledge to develop personalized "treatment programs" meant to efficiently break them and facilitate their retraining and eventually their return to Asbethserilian society as fully docile and compliant slavegirls, happy to fulfill their submissive role in life.
It's ok sweetheart, we'll make sure you adjust to your new chip!
The Strict Protocol Continues
Kelly finds herself marking a calendar, the timing of her visits most consequential. Never more often then every third day, the lengthy interval assuring that her charge Chestnuts is eager for cleansing and bathing. On occasion the suffering is extended… four days… and on one occasion a fifth day when she found herself traveling over a holiday weekend.
Imbued with unsurpassed power, she finds herself becoming giddy by the morning of the appointed day, a young girl desiring to cuddle her puppy.
Chestnuts is equally excited by her visits of course, his psyche anointing ‘Miss Kelly’ with plenipotentiary governance. She is everything… the source of all he needs. But of course not of all he wants. Denial… always denial of that which a virile young male most wants… most desires. And it pleases Kelly to deny him.
Instead there is tongue work. Chestnuts’ long wet appendage, surgically freed of the restricting frenulum, now thrusts forth with vigor in scooping the bland sustenance from an offered spoon. Miss Kelly is known to playfully dab the tip of the nose and, in encouraging with girlish giggles, has the prodigious length of pink curl upwards to swath, not only eagerly finding nourishment but pleasing with the display… the oral nimbleness of a barnyard animal.
Kelly is also given to firmly grasp the tongue, ending each visit with many minutes of tugging, twisting and turning, imbuing continuing length, assuring strength and stamina.
Chestnuts is rewarded for his cooperation… more vaginal froth… Miss Kelly’s quim brimming with evidence of her delight… her ownership well implanted.
Still, yet there remains evidence of male aggression… almost every visit ending with a plea for manual release, Chestnuts’ penis standing most robustly after many weeks of chastity. Yes, the meek words come as Miss Kelly approaches with ice, the unwavering tumescence to succumb to a woman’s desire to return her boy to diapers.
‘Won’t you please stroke me first, Miss Kelly?’
The quest is ignored of course. But as the visits progress, ending such pleasant interludes of feminine power with notions of a soothing hand offering such crass male satiation disturbs.
In exiting the Clinic on one Saturday afternoon, Chestnuts well restrained and returned to his diaper, Kelly engaged the desk nurse in small talk, broaching the subject of ‘hand jobs for the helpless’, as Kelly humorously considers the constant quest.
“You should review the Guidebook,” the nurse suggests. “The Recalcitrance and Discipline chapter has some ideas. And I note on the chart that your boy is uncircumcised. Be sure to read the segment on infibulation as well.”
Kelly thanks the nurse, realizing she did not before delve that far into the Guidebook.
So it’s a Saturday night. Arriving home, a bottle of Chardonnay awaits. After a hot shower, Kelly calms herself after a long afternoon of feminine governance and concupiscence. The Guidebook awaits. She sits, sips and flips open.
Recalcitrance and Discipline, the final segment. Turning the pages she is surprised to find a chapter on masturbating the male, a shocking subject matter for an institution dedicated to male chastity.
‘During times of release… for cleansing or simple amusement… the chaste male will find himself erect and powerless to refrain from beseeching for sexual release. Think of the process as a young male dog in heat, assaulting Master’s leg with his privates in a most inappropriate manner. This annoyance can be curtailed very simply by indeed condescending and offering manual release… but in a very controlling and ultimately disciplining manner.
‘Clients will find each training room equipped with a slim glass tube and a supply of rock salt. It is a simple matter to introduce a few grams of salt into the tube, slip into the urethra of the erect male, and deposit sodium chloride well into the penis shaft by pressing a complementary rod as the tube is withdrawn. As the salt melts, aggravating the most sensitive of male flesh, the beseeched hand should stroke. There will follow a rather convincing combination of pleasure as denied penile skin is stroked and pain as the salt melts to irritate the urethra. Within minutes the pain pleasure will overwhelm. Subsequent ejaculation will slide the introduced salt further down the urethra, enhancing the pain as the release of ejaculate presses, and ultimately transforming what is normally the pinnacle of male ecstasy into an agonizing encounter with the determination of the female hand.’
In thought, Kelly pauses and sips… with a smile. Transforming male pleasure into pain! How devious… yet ingenious! Chestnuts will become quite reluctant to request manual release after such a daunting hand job. One can only imagine the distress in introducing salt, ironically so harmless, into the vaunted male organ.
The Guidebook is pushed aside. Delirious thoughts of disciplining her charge in such an ignominious manner brings the need for her vibrator.
Underboob. Yum.
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