Butler For Life - Ch. 08
Final Chapter -- one year later
Bod came to groggily and slowly got up from the straw in his stable, carefully placing the heavy blanket that was all the bedding he was allowed on its hook to one side so it would air during the day. He moved over towards Cart, who spent the night in the corner, gathering up the long chain that connected them. First he lifted Cart's shaft up and, right at the end, unscrewed two small metal knobs that capped the sidepieces of the shaft. Bringing the shaft up between his legs from behind, he bent over and fed both the side posts through the piercings in his left and right scrotums, then screwed on the caps again. Once fixed, he and Cart could move in unison. The trough outside held cold water which always woke him up completely, splashing it over his face and body to rinse off before starting his day. Breakfast would be brought to him later, a jug of liquidised goodness care of Cock.
That beating in the barn turned out to be life-changing. When Lady Christina returned from her trip, George was still confined to his bed, comatose for hours on end, then sluggishly rousing himself to the toilet before falling back into a restless sleep. Cock visited his room with thermoses of broth, which he fed him patiently.
The Lady was not happy, in fact she was furious, but Pauline kept her job. Then there was something he struggled to remember, the assistant had him using a pen, the same thing over and over, writing his name on the pages as she turned them. For a moment he had a glimpse of a previous lifetime where he signed documents. They had invited one of their group, an advocate, to watch and countersign as witness. He was not to know that this had been Pauline's salvation, having the inspiration of getting him to sign everything he owned over to Lady Katrina's estate.
Cock recounted to Bod one afternoon that the domme circle had been brought together in judgement -- there were agreed boundaries and protocols amongst their small sorority - and it was decided that Pauline should lose any right to giving out punishment. She clearly had no sense of the subtleties of chastisement, or her natural sadism could not be controlled. Either way, the group had standards.
Even though he returned to his duties after a month or so, he kept forgetting his housekeeping routines, even though he carried a list now as an aide-memoire. The problem seemed to be in the small details. He would start a job but get distracted and move away, then start another task and forget the first. Looking at the list helped not at all, for he could not remember what he had done last. Even between the table and the kitchen, he could forget what had been asked of him. Lady Christina had discovered that the wine cellar was perilously low in stock simply because George never got to the door; his attention being pulled towards the punishment room, where he would stand simply still and silent, not really knowing why he was there but believing that it was best that he waited there for someone to come.
Eventually he was moved outdoors permanently.
He now permanently wore a heavy leather belt around his waist, which continued between his legs. Once again, an artisan friendly to the sorority had created a custom-fitted item. At the rear, it held in place a rubber ring the size of a mug, which kept his arse wide open and permanently dilated. At its centre was a reinforced hole which stayed open, so he never had the sensation of breaking wind, only of a soft alteration of pressure from deep inside him sometimes while he was walking or bending over. The young lady, the one who didn't like him, would come each morning to attend to her horse, and he would wait while she inserted a hose into the gaping hole and flushed him out. Sometimes she filled him so hard there was much pain by her blocking the outflow, and he whimpered and shifted on his feet. Then she would remove the hose, and he had to quickly turn and lose the water onto one of the gardens, later spading it over.
At the front, the centre strap had a metal ring, which kept only his knob exposed. Now he had no shaft, and no foreskin; his little knob protruded straight from his belly like a prolapsed belly-button, and he peed like a small boy, straight out in front. It sat neatly inside the ring, with his leather straps connected above and below. The doctor lady had somehow removed everything else at the same time they emptied his scrotum, which now hung low from each side of the strap like two ears. The dragging of Cart had, over the months and years, stretched the piercings longer and longer, and the holes were now oval rather than the original circular punchings.
Some days Cart pulled on them quite hard, but on other days Cart would give him little hints, little squeaks of the wooden planks and axles when he was going over a bump, or up a hill, and he could alter the way he walked or slow down so it was more gentle. Cart was funny that way; unpredictable. But they were inseparable, so they managed to get on like an old couple. He had more company from the birds, listening to them chatting and squabbling as he worked, but mostly his world was the plants, and he had learned to listen to them as well.
There were few people in his life. There was the lady who didn't like him, who emptied him and had Cock bring food every morning when she fed her horse, and there was another lady, who he rarely saw unless she was coming or going from the estate. Sometimes there were visitors, and he would see naked Butler trot over to the gates and open them, then head back to receive them as they alighted from their vehicle. That seemed familiar, somehow.
Sometimes the lady who didn't like him was cross, and then she had a leather crop, and she would hit him hard right on the knob. She was very accurate. And if he bent over to avoid the pain or cried out, she would start counting again. That was hard, to stay still and not whimper. But generally life was quiet, and he liked the plants.
THE END
Bod found the mention of the mansion in the Butler For Life chronicles particularly intriguing, as it was where he had undergone several permanent body modifications, including the installation of the metal caps on his scrotum piercings. He often wondered if Lady Christina, the mistress of the house, was aware of the pain he endured during these procedures, a form of female dominance he had grown accustomed to.
The debate around the use of CBT, or controlled bursts of pain, in slavery was a topic that frequently surfaced in the domme circle meetings. Some members argued that it was a cruel form of punishment, while others defended its use as a means to gain control and submit completely. Bod often found himself caught in the middle, as he had experienced both the agony and the liberation it brought.
Bod's body was a canvas of female domination, with each modification a testament to his submission to the sorority's rules and, ultimately, Lady Katrina's estate. However, body modification was not something he had willingly chosen; it was a consequence of his new life as a slave, a reality he had to accept and adjust to in order to maintain his place in the hierarchy of the mansion.