Chapter Twenty Six - The Day of the Wedding -- Part Two
The feeling of a little wet tongue working its magic on one's sexual organ can be a most delightful sensation, whether the recipient is male or female -- or in this case my best friend Alana. And the 'worker' was me with her delicate and tiny penis resting on my tongue like a baby bird snuggled down in its warm nest -- safe, secure, and happy.
There is something really beautiful in the unselfish and one-sided giving of pleasure to someone you care for. I had discovered this with Elaine, my new Master -- Jackson, and Alana two nights ago. I felt an emotion of profound humbling as I worked the little, but highly sensitive tube of pink flesh that now stood stiffly to attention against my warm and wet tongue.
I nuzzled it, licked it, kissed it, and eventually took his penis deep into my mouth to rest gently against my larynx - and then I went through the whole delightful sequence of affection again, and again. The salty taste of seminal fluid was telling me that Alana's arousal was rising in response to my pleasuring.
This was not the crude 'blow job' that is practised by 'professional ladies of the night', or pornographers (or both). It was a demonstration of my affection and understanding for my best friend who had now turned away from 'manliness' to embrace his feminine side. Like me, he had accepted his cuckolding by his (now pregnant) Wife, and this was his way of addressing his new way of life. And my attention to his little penis was my way of telling him that I understood, and still cared for him.
I felt the first spasm of his tiny member, before I sensed the warm spurt of semen hit my throat. I had taken him gradually to the edge, only to withdraw slightly to calm him down, and then increase his arousal repeatedly. The result was an ejaculation that precipitated a scream from deep within Alana's throat. Pulse after pulse jetted warm salty cream into my mouth that I lasciviously swallowed as I licked my lips to make sure that I took it all. My deed was done, and Alana's hand that stroked the back of my head told me that she thought so too.
My thoughts returned to the conversation Elaine and I had enjoyed earlier in the week. She had told me of Roman slaves who had been used for sexual purposes only -- clearly many female slaves were used for pleasure, but she also told me of many male slaves (possibly eunuchs) who had been used as 'face-sitters' for the Mistress of the house. The very thought of being a 'slave' to my Wife, Jackson, or even Alana was attractive to me.
'Not just attractive,' I thought to myself, 'but arousing'. This is what I want. This is what I was born to be. This is my future, and I need to embrace it.'
We two, very wet, cuckolds had completed the intimate moment between us and became aware the time was pressing. We had a wedding to prepare for.
"What have you two been up to," Madeleine asked as we vacated the shower room to stand naked before her and her Lover, Bruno.
"We had a wash Mistress," we replied in unison.
"Of course you did," she said, clearly suppressing a laugh at two naked grown men shuffling their feet and lying like two naughty children. "Now get into the clothes I have laid out for you both on the bed."
We turned and looked at the pretty white dress, lacy white underwear, white shoes, and shimmering white stockings draped over the duvet cover. All of this flimsy wear lie alongside a smart black suite, underwear, socks, and black shiny shoes.
"And cj?"
I turned suddenly at Madeleine's voice behind me. "Make sure that Alana has her little cage on, before you dress her."
"Dress her?"
"Dress her cj," she replied sternly, "and make sure she is beautiful before we leave this room."
"Mistress?"
"And make sure her cage is fitted properly," she continued, without responding to me.
I looked at the pile of feminine clothing on the bed, and there, buried under some flimsy silk panties was a small velvet bag that I took to be the cage for Alana's penis.
"Yes Mistress!"
Alana stood subserviently with her legs apart as I eased the round saddle underneath her little testicles and adjusted it so the securing mechanism rested on the upper surface of the base of her penis. Her little organ, still soft and small from my previous pleasuring, slipped into the cage without any lubrication required. A quick lining up of the locating lugs, a click as I snapped the little padlock closed, and my best friend was locked away.
"Jump up and down, and wiggle side to side," I said.
He did so -- consequently his little caged penis charmingly flopped around just inches from my nose.
"Comfy?" I asked.
"Yeth!"
Madeleine looked up from putting on her shoes and snapped, "Don't you dare start lisping Alana. You're not gay, so don't pretend you are."
"Th.... Sorry Mistress!"
Where had that come from? Was that his/her attempt at being 'feminine'? If it was it was pretty well wide of the mark. His transition was in an opposite direction completely to the 'gay' sexuality. His transformation was an effort to cope with his cuckolding, in the same way that my efforts had been directed towards total acceptance and subservience. It annoyed me, and I told him so in no uncertain terms.
"For f*ck's sake Alan," I exclaimed, "you're a f*cking cuckold, like me, not a gay-boy. So stop pretending you're one."
"Sorry!"
"That's okay," I replied as I reached for the white lacy suspender belt resting on the bed nearby. "Now hold still while I clip this on for you."
I wrapped the stretch of material around her waist, clipped it closed and then moved it around so the fastening was around the back. Looking up, I noticed that Alana had picked up two silk stockings from the bed.
"These next," he said -- but it was more of question than a statement.
"Of course them - dummy," I shot back, snatching one out of her hands. "Now lift your right foot up."
