48 Hours on Blue Bayou Pt. 22: Julie

The Guards pay him no heed. Clearly, they have a schedule of their own. I watch as his fidgets get more active. I am betting he will call out again but, before he can, two Guards come for me. I am escorted rather regally to the gyn table. There is even a small movable stool between the male's legs. Except at Master's dinners or at the Empress' mansion, I haven't sat on furniture since the Blue Bayou!

There is no formality, no introduction. The Guards leave me and I get the feeling that a spotlight is picking me out of the darkness. I have an outline of how to make this last an hour, but no specific moves. I start by simply running one hand over the male's legs, then his thighs, then his abdomen, finally coming to his newly-shaved pubic region. I am impressed by how smooth his skin is and then realize that he's not an old lecher; he's probably about my own age!

I bring a second hand up, taking his package in hand and just lifting and moving it. The prick, up close, is indeed about the average I have experienced. His ballsac, the scrotum, however, is much heavier than I expected. His balls are huge! For Igor and the Minister, for example, I could take a ball into my mouth; this is not going to be possible with these balls!

My "studies" are interrupted by the male's voice. "Hello, kid. Good to meet you. Sorry I can't shake hands today. I like that your hands are warm. I like how you started at the periphery and moved slowly and gently to the center. I can tell, kid, that you're real good. Go ahead as you please. I'm all yours for today, kid. Maybe you'll be all mine later. Would you like that, kid? If you would, I'll see what I can arrange. I've been here long enough to develop some vigorish, you know? Just let me know, OK?"

My Inner Goddess is laughing her head off. "This . . . kid is trying to set up a date with you?" I laugh along with her, but I think I see a deeper plan. He is trying to get me to focus on something besides the task my Master needs completed. He wants to replace my Master as the center of my universe. It is, again, what I told the newbies. Keep your Master at the center of your universe and you will be headed for success, for achievement. I stop listening to his prattle and start rhythmic stroking of the space between his ballsac and his rosebud, with an occasional flick of a finger at that target. I am rewarded by a thickening and lengthening of the male's prick. I give the shaft a lick and blow across it. The coldness jerks it into a semi-erection.

I continue to handle his prick and balls with one hand and then slide them into the other. In a few moments, the male is writhing on the gyn table, trying to get more contact with my hands. I slow my action and he gets the idea: stop trying for arousal. He doesn't have permission for an orgasm, according to Training Director, so why is he trying for one?

My Inner Goddess comes up with the answer. "Hey, moron! If he gets to cum, he'll blame you and you'll have to take the Unauthorized Orgasm correction, whatever that is. He'll be laughing all the way upstairs."

Of course, she's right. I make a note to move more slowly and to keep a watch on his balls: if they start to rise in his sac, that's a sign of too much arousal.

I'm now more aware that I, too, have a lot at risk here. I have to be seen as working diligently. If they think I'm slacking or not trying to push the male up the rainbow, I could be in as much trouble as he is. What a balancing act!

I plant a kiss on his helmet; Anne has taught me this is properly called the glans of the penis or, in French, glande del pene. His prick is now erect, but not as rigid as it's going to be. I take an inch or two into my mouth, but I don't completely close my lips. Breathing in and out, I can make air currents caress him. This should give my tongue a rest. I do add a few licks to move his prick around, just for the cameras which, I am sure, are capturing this correction. At intervals, I take more of his prick into my mouth, followed at an interval by a withdrawal. I am trying to make my actions look like a serious attack on his lance.

I add another trick. I open and close my jaws, just not enough to let him feel my teeth. It should provide the cameras with more evidence that I am working diligently at my assignment. During one of these, I see his balls start to rise up. I quickly encircle his sac with a hand and squeeze his balls back down. I am rewarded with a gasp and a groan from the male, but his balls stay down.

After a while, I pull off his prick and return to kissing and licking his thighs. I even stand up and nibble at his abdomen and pubic region for a few moments. Then, it's back to stroking and licking from his rosebud up to his sac and again taking his prick into my mouth. I'm getting more confident of the actions I can use, so I add a short Swirl or Twirl with my tongue. Again, I don't want anyone to claim I wasn't using all my wiles to keep him aroused. If they're using his state of erection as a monitor, then I think I'm OK.

On the next go-around, I add some attention to his balls. I actually find I can yawn my jaws wide enough to almost get a ball inside my mouth, and I can still put some suction or some tongue-lashing onto his family jewels.

We settle into a rhythm. I'm working with hands, lips, mouth and tongue on his thighs, pubic and pudendal regions, prick and balls. The male hasn't completely stopped moving, but his level of gasps, moans, groans, and little cries seems to go with my activities and how high his balls are in their sac.

I am not sure how much time has passed, but I come to realize that my jaws and tongue are getting tired. I could speak all day at the law firm, and now a few licks and sucks are giving me fatigue? I get a bit frantic trying to figure a different action that will still keep the male aroused.

While nibbling on his abdomen, I take a detour up to his chest. His nipples are nowhere as prominent as a woman's, but I try a few nibbles and sucks there also. I am rewarded by a different sound, more like a growl. But, I am surprised to see that this male can engorge and erect his nipples, if only a little bit! Encouraged, I add this diversion to my cycles.

There isn't any clock visible in the slave corridor — slaves will be told when to do what Master wants or needs — so I can't be sure how much of the hour has passed. I'm working now on semi-automatic. I've got a series of activities that I know will keep the male erect and I've been able to force his balls down three or four times when it looked like he was getting too aroused. But — and my Inner Goddess can testify to it — this is really boring stuff! Igor and Anne and Pat have trained me to be good at arousal and getting my "partner" to orgasm. I can't shake the idea that getting to "no orgasm" is not so natural.

Of course, I do realize that this "partner" is here for a correction. He is being aroused but not going to climax. They are forcing him to be frustrated. It is an emotional, not a physical, correction that I am administering for my Master.

Finally, a Guard taps my shoulder and signals for me to stand up. He checks the male and marches me back to my cell. From my cell, I see a Guard bring a bottle and a straw to the male, but nobody frees him from his position.

A chime announces the Food Cart and, silently, the newbies and I clean our bowls of a pasta with cheese sauce dinner. As usual, Chef has made the dish tasty. The attendant, with a grin, gives me a second bowl of juice. I smile and nod thankfully. I'm sure I'm going to need the extra fluid!

As soon as the Food Cart is gone, the new slaves pepper me with questions. I smile but wave my hand for quiet. "Please, I'm not allowed to answer any questions until after the third cycle. Let's talk about it then, OK?

Their faces are surprised, but none of them are willing to risk a correction to satisfy their curiosity. I take the opportunity to grab a short nap, certain that a Guard will come for me at the proper time.

When I am brought to the male for the second hour, he makes an elaborate show of waking up from a sound sleep. He stretches and yawns and, finally recognizing me, grins a very friendly grin. "Hey, kid, welcome back! That first go-around was very relaxing. Are you here for more of the same? I've had all kinds of foreplay with women, and I'm here to thank you for such a relaxing time!"

My Inner Goddess is instantly irate, but I hush her and smile sweetly. He's probably thinking he can confuse me into pushing him over the edge, but this slave is not going to let him push my Master out of the center of my universe!

I have a better idea of how long an hour is, so I vary the speeds of my cycles around his package. And, I spend more time at his nipples. I'm very curious how he can get them erect, just like a female nipple, even if his nipples aren't going to let down any milk. But then, I wonder if hormones or drugs could actually induce lactation in a male. I'm sure this keeps my mind busy for several minutes. I have pushed him down the arousal ladder fairly easily, so this time I let him get a bit higher before I squeeze his balls down. From his vocalizations, I get the impression that he doesn't like this maneuver at all.

The thought occurs to me that I could get some good practice for deep throating out of this exercise. I'm familiar with this male's length and thickness while erect and with how easily he gets to rise up the rainbow of arousal. I've taken him to the back of my mouth, where my gag reflex can be triggered. Now, I essay his further penetration. I try to distract him by light scratches along his thighs and around his rosebud, but I'm working on keeping him deep in my mouth without my gagging. I also get to find out how much of my breathing is blocked by his prick at that penetration. I am "rewarded" by some soft moans and "Oh, yes, dearie! Just like that, dearie! More, dearie!" comments. Nevertheless, I keep a strict eye on his balls, and grab them when they start to rise up. I wind up with my nose at his pubic bone. I've gotten him as deep as possible! My Inner Goddess is impressed.

In contrast to the first hour, I am getting tired sooner, it seems. I force myself to concentrate, developing a mantra that I circulate through my brain: It's what my Master needs — keep sucking. I know that the grammar isn't good, but it keeps me going. When the Guard taps my shoulder to signal the end of Hour Two, I am exhausted. I'm sure my march back to my cell does not present the picture of youthful vigor. The female Guard has a liter bottle of sports drink ready for me, which I down gratefully. The new slaves are quiet, each with her own thoughts. I sink onto my pallet, stretch to the limit of my sirik, and am immediately asleep.

The rumble of my cell door wakes me, but I am not refreshed. The female Guard has another bottle of sports drink ready for me, but I raise my hand to ask a question. She nods and I try a desperate request. "Please, Ma'am, could this one be some chocolate milk?"

She's in a good mood! She's trying to hide a grin, but I can tell I haven't crossed any line here. She marches me to the Security Station, points to where I should kneel and wait, and disappears for a few seconds, returning with a pint of chocolate milk. Gratefully, I down the nectar and we march back to the male.

He is still tethered to the gyn table as before. This time, there is no cheery greeting, so I don't get a "read" on his mood. However, I am surprised by the look of his prick. While it is flaccid, it is thickened quite a bit from when we started. There is some redness on the glans as well as the shaft. I don't see any bleeding or bruises on his package or on the skin I've been kissing, licking, or nibbling. Before the Guard can leave, I grab his prick and wave it at the Guard, pointing to the reddened areas with a concerned expression on my face.

The Guard comes closer and inspects the male's package carefully. She points to a spot and commands, "Position One. Stay." I comply and the Guard goes into the male's cell, returning with a urine bottle. She orders the male to pee and I watch as he tries to comply. The Guard waves to the Security Station and the Chief hurries over. They move the gyn table to a more upright position, and the male finally gets a stream going. Even I can see the stream has no force. The Chief thinks for just a moment or two, then orders "Put this cycle on Suspend." He takes the urine specimen back to the Station and gets on the phone to somewhere. A messenger arrives a few minutes later and takes the specimen away. The Chief punches at his computer keyboard for a bit and the slave corridor settles down to wait.

I would prefer to wait in my cell, where I have a nice straw pallet to nap on, but I sense that that request would be ignored. I'm glad the corridor is carpeted, because a tile floor is hard on the knees.

The Chief's phone rings and there is an animated conversation, which tails off as Chief starts making notes. Finally, he hangs up and types furiously into his computer, the female Guard looking over his shoulder. She leaves the Station to go partway down the corridor to another room, returning with a tray of items covered with a cloth. They pick up another Guard and move to the male, still restrained in the gyn table. There is some quiet conversation and the male is freed from the table, reversing the moves from earlier. He is placed on the cot in his cell and his handcuffs are transferred to the cot. As before, he has never been free of restraint.

The female Guard comes to me and orders, "Stand and follow." I manage to rise with a little grace and follow back to my cell, where the door rumbles closed and I am secure. As the other slaves are, I stand against the bars, watching into the male's cell.

The Chief has had the male spread his legs as wide as the cot will allow and placed tape from one thigh to the other from the tops of his thighs halfway down. His package is resting on top of the tape. The Guard has some lotion he is spreading on the male's thighs, abdomen, and prick.

There is a little conversation with the male; his cell door rumbles closed and the Guards return to the Station, where reports are typed into computers for a few minutes and then quiet returns.

Finally, Chief comes to where I am watching events. He tells me that the male's genitalia show signs of inflammation, that the inflammation is likely from the two hours of oral attentions from earlier, and that the third hour is "suspended." He tells me to get my newbie's impressions and ideas and adds that I will then be free to inform them of what actually was taking place. He barely makes it back to the Station before the newbies are questioning me. I wave them into silence and try to figure out how to do this survey.

"OK, slaves. Now, you've all been told that you are always being tested, right? This is one of those tests. You've all observed the new occupant in our corridor and that I've been busy with him for a couple of hours. Now, think a bit and try to figure out what was going on, what all of this is about. Then, you get to report your ideas and understanding to me. Do you understand?"

Well, they understand the question, because I get three "Yes, Ma'ams" back practically in unison. I stroll around my cell, trying to keep a neutral expression on my face. After a few minutes, I ask, "OK, slaves, who wants to go first?"

Three waves a hand and starts speaking before I give permission. I manage to say "Stop" quietly but with some force, and Three subsides, a quizzical expression on her face. As she realizes her error, her face blanches and her hand jumps to cover her mouth.

I'm not sure what the correction is for unpermitted speech, but I'm sure there is one. I say, "Three, the Guards will tell you how many demerits that cost you. Now, what is your report?"

It takes a moment or two before Three can process my two sentences, but she falls into a nice Position One and starts her report. I am pleased that she does not offer an excuse; I take it that she's absorbed the First Law.

"Please, Ma'am, I think the newcomer must have given some offense to be brought here handcuffed and all. I don't know whether he's a slave or not, but the way they cut off his clothes suggests he is a slave. But then, they had you give him oral sex for a couple of hours. I could see him thrashing around most of the time, so it must have been good for him. But this doesn't make sense to me. Am I missing something, Ma'am?"

I thank Three for a concise report and ask who's next? One waves a hand and I give her permission to speak.

"Please, Ma'am, I agree that he's a slave who has committed a crime. Same reasons as Three, but please add about his language to the list of charges. I'm also puzzled about giving oral sex."

I look to Five and nod permission to speak. "Please, Ma'am, I'm not so sure about his slave status. You and the trainers have told us that these Enterprises are world-wide businesses, that we are part of a global platform, so this guy could be visiting these offices from anywhere and he screwed up somehow. The oral sex, I'm not so sure about. I wasn't sure that his movements represented orgasms, and he was awfully quiet for having a climax, I thought. Please, Ma'am, were you just teasing him along? I could see teasing as a correction. I think the guys call it 'Blue Balls' because it's supposed to trap blood in the penis and balls."

I clap my hands a few times to show my appreciation to these slaves for their thinking processes. "Well, slaves, that's a lot of thought and a lot of imagination. Each of you got some things right. The male is a slave and he committed a crime: abusing another slave. He was brought here for a correction. Now, you have to learn that our Master wants corrections to be 'symmetrical' — that's what he calls it — with the crime. So, the correction was to keep him aroused but not satisfied. This slave was assigned to provide oral stimulation for an hour at a time, but without letting the criminal go over the edge to orgasm. There were supposed to be three hours of play, but the third hour is suspended because his package got inflamed from the first two hours.

"Now, what lessons do you draw from this experience? Remember, I don't want observations, I want lessons. Anybody?"

There is just a moment of quiet and then all sorts of suggestions. I wave them quiet and order, "OK, let's do this by the numbers. One?"

One grins and announces, "The first lesson is what you told us. Our Master will protect us from harm. And, if that guy got his prick in a pickle, it serves him right!"

I interrupt the chorus of cheers with a caution: "Did anyone see another side to that lesson?"

There is a silent moment before Five raises her hand. She asks, "Did they stop the third hour to protect the male also? You said his package got inflamed. That could be a harm?"

I hope my grin lights up her day! "Yes, Five. Exactly. The male was supposed to be corrected, but the Guards suspended the third hour when the state of his prick was questionable."

Five pushes on. "What does it mean 'suspended'?"

My voice drops a bit, to a more serious tone. "This is another lesson. Once a correction has been decreed, there is no way it won't be carried out. You can cry or plead or try to bargain, but the correction will happen. Suspended means it's just held off for a time. Whenever his prick is back in working order, I'm sure he'll get that third hour. It might not be from this slave, but he'll get it. And, he knows it."

Three raises a hand for a question. "Please, Ma'am, what would have happened if he'd had a climax?"

"Good question, Three. What do you think? Would that be a crime?"