Prologue

 

The crack of her matronly arse rose filled his eyes he knelt before her upon the cool bathroom tiles, his naked and freshly depilated body placed that he might stare up in worship at her powerful bare calves and equally brown thighs above.

The fact he could feel worshipful at all for both the legs and the woman who owned them, when not so long ago he hadn't been in possession of one single libidinous thought in her regard, still baffling enough to have him shake his head with perplexity and no small self-disgust for the development.

The legs that so fixated him these days as puzzling to him as the less than beauteous countenance he now described to himself as... erotic.

"Kiss my superior Indian arse," she ordered with a slight incline of her head. "Show me you accept your position in my service."

Again his head shook.

She sounded as if she had been reading too much pornography of the Victorian era and he felt his usual contempt at her attempt to sound like some grand English dame.

Albeit, a grand English dame in the fleshy brown body of a woman who had once know poverty in her own land.

Poverty, he often told himself, that was probably as good an explanation for her warped needs than any.

Or at least any he could come up with.

All the above making his instant obedience to her all the more shameful to him as he rose from his haunches and allowed his lips to press against her fleshy brown buttocks.

A sigh came down to him from above as he felt his erection strain against the bars of the cage into which she had only just secured him.

"Good boy," she demeaned him as her she reached back to separate those same buttocks with her hands and reveal the virgin ring of her rectum and the goose-bump like circle surrounding it.

Suspecting what was about to come, his breath caught in his throat.

And were soon proved correct.

"Use your tongue to titillate the exterior of my shit-chute and show you master how grateful you are for her looking after you."

To his shock, he reacted to her humbling order with even more alacrity and felt his thwarted erection strain even more mightily against the unfamiliar restraint as the tip of his tongue circled and teased the outer-rim of her anus.

Even the acrid and earthy taste signifying this abject submission seemed to intensify his desire to continue doing it and he gasped as the agony and frustration of having a cock unable to express its... appreciation ...provided a mental as well as physical aspect to his new reality.

His discomfort not going unnoticed.

"It is for your own good and will help you be more... pleasing ...to me," she cooed down to him. "You must accept that you are now dependent upon your Malkin for everything save for the air you breathe and the weather itself.

His answer to this...?

To use his tongue to continue teasing and circling the rim surrounding what she had described as her: "shit-chute."

"Yes... That is a good boy for your Malkin," her voice purred, its owner obviously in a heady condition to find herself served in such a way.

And by such a man.

"For you to serve your Malkin as she wishes to be served," she went on, "it is necessary that your little white penis be as much under her control as the rest of you. The cage in which I have locked you will provide both discipline and motivation and, though you may still be unwilling to believe it, will soon ensure that you are made wholly subservient to her will and will want to please her not only that your cock may receive some release, but because you want nothing more than to please the Indian woman who now owns you."

Feelings of the most acutely humiliating kind washed over his senses at her words and were made all the more excruciating for knowing that he had not the will to fight her insidious and growing domination him.

Worse!

In some dusty and long neglected corner of his soul, she had located a previously unsuspected longing for just that domination she was wielding and underneath which his manhood was buckling.

Even as his soul cringed to think what the daughter from whom he was unwillingly estranged would think to see him in such a position.

And with... HER!

"So long as you continue to earn my approval," her voice drifted down to him, "I will have no objection to taking your little white cockle from its cage and allowing it some pleasure."

As if spurred by her promise, he continued to rim her anus with the tip of his tongue as she continued:

"That pleasure will, of course, be of my choosing; though you may sure it will NEVER involve the placing of your inferior cock into you Indian owner's superior pussy."

As distracted as he was, he could tell from her voice that not only was she deadly serious but that locking him into the cage imprisoning his genitals was a point of honour to her and conveyed more than anything the level of her authority over him and the fact any strength he might have possessed to resist her power had dwindled to a point where it would soon be undetectable.

A lack of strength, and despite his perverse distraction, that did not prevent a feeling of sickness rising into his throat for his current condition and what he considered the gutless and unmanly way in which he had succumbed to it.

Turning suddenly, she took him by the chin and stared into the eyes of the older man that were now as moist with shame as they were hungry with need:

"As your 'Indian Keyholder'," she went on, "I will be able to tell if your little cock is trying to get hard in its prison."

She allowed him time to digest her words and continued to stare deep into his eyes, loving the feeling that with no more than her own superior power-of-will she was overmastering this once-proud man who was more and more looking upon her as his... Master.

Knowing also, that he knew better than to look away or speak without first having asked or received her permission.

The sensations the knowledge produced in her were beyond exquisite.

The growing excitement of having her very own white chattel seemed to her as if it would never desist from forward motion and she knew all the efforts she had made to ensure he became hers were worth it a thousand-fold.

A wave of affection for the man that was - and should never be - confused with love, but was one more of a certain... gratitude, made her feel almost tender towards him and she lowered her head to place a kiss upon his forehead that left him with not only with an imprint of red-lipstick but a feeling of weakness he hadn't felt in the presence of a woman since the early days of his prepubescence.

"So, as you see, it will give me an even greater degree of control over you and can only make you more diligent in your service to me."

Her delight was not shared; though she sensed the perverse excitement beneath his distaste and realised she had gauged his character perfectly.

A character that, for all its strengths, was insecure enough to allow itself to be led by a woman; and though she had no true idea as to the root cause of his insecurity, she was well aware of the setbacks in his life of the past few years that had weakened him as a man.

A weakness for which she gave prayers of thanks.

Though even she doubted a higher-being was responsible for her good-fortune.

At least not a being of the benign kind, anyway.

Again, she raised his eyes to hers that he might see the power in them before lowering her hand and giving his ringed scrotum a forceful squeeze that made him wince and fetched genuine alarm to his own eyes at the same time.

"I am told from my reading on the subject online," she began, "that there are certain men who find something reassuring in having a strong woman assume responsibility for their cock and balls."

The handsome face staring into her more ...prosaic ...features did not look at convinced; despite the fact his excited cock said otherwise in its confinement.

"Some even seek out a woman willing to take responsibility for them in such a way that they might be confined in the way I have confined you."

His face reddened at the prospect that she might regard him as one of these sad men to whom she referred; unaware for the moment of his own capitulation and, as is the way with the vast majority of the herd, not seeing the weaknesses of others reflected in his own his own less than manly actions.

"I know what you are thinking and agree," she nodded, divining his thoughts with ease. "It is incredible that a sane and healthy man could not only consent to such a confinement but actually seek it out."

She shook her head as if such a development were beyond her understanding.

Then:

"But then, the world is divided between those who love to control and those who can only be happy under that control. If more people were truthful and in tune with their own natures life would indeed be the simple game the song insists it to be."

Her snort was loud and derisive.

"But such things are of no interest to me."

The look on his face as he knelt before her with his cock in a cage after having just rimmed her arse told he this came as news to him.

"The truly confident and assertive woman is not in the market for some abject masochist who finds his sexual highs from her domination of him."

Again, she shook her head as if such a prospect were anathema to her - which it was.

"I have experienced enough throughout my marriage and my life leading up to it to be heartily sick of men who think women exist only to gratify their passions - whatever they may be - to ever even consider doing so again."

His cheeks had reddened further by this time and the sight of the effect she was having upon him spurred her on:

"It is," she smiled, almost affectionately, "what makes owning you so special to me."

Below her, he waited, knowing he would not like what she was about to tell him; the nausea he had felt that had all but led him to throw up in the toilet-bowl when she first displayed his new genital-jewellery again threatening to unman him.

And the knowledge there were other men out there in the same situation made him feel no easier with the reality - even if, at least, he had not been so far gone in his moral and sexual weakness he had actually sought his shame out.

"Believe me," she was continuing, "you would be of far less interest to me - even with your handsome looks and your white-skin - if you genuinely wanted the domination, I exert over you."

Her smile was NOT of the pleasant variety as she finished:

"Though it is easy to see from the way your little cockle tries to expand in its new cage that there is something in my ownership of you that is not completely displeasing to you."

The reminder fetched all his shame bubbling to the surface, and it was only with an effort that he kept his stomach from erupting as he acknowledged - how could he not? - the truth of her observation.

This younger and low-born woman from the subcontinent had everything at her disposal when it came to him to ensure he would obey her.

No matter how much his more sober thoughts hated the prospect.

Her money and his lack of it and the fact he was now dependent upon her for the roof above his head and the sustenance he received gave her the power in their relationship.

And not only that but something far more compelling.

Something that truly terrified him.

"If I am truthful with you, Thomas," the accented English that so grated on his nerves interrupted his thoughts, "there is something I find incredibly appealing and... JUST ...about having an older yet still virile Englishman caged and at my disposal in such a way."

His flesh crawled and she sensed it as she stroked his cheek with the back of hand to underline her humbling of him; knowing that he would allow it.

"What else could he do, after all?"

"Yes. I realise how difficult it must be for you. And such a handsome man too; while your owner is no more than a plain Indian woman for whom you would not spare a thought were your circumstances difficult."

His eyes blazed their agreement, even as lips remained motionless.

"But then," she laughed, "even handsome men such as yourself have their weaknesses and we both know you will look upon me differently now that your little white cock is dependent upon me if it is to ever spurt its useless cream into the air again."

\Still laughing she returned her attention to his balls and the titanium ring constraining them; leaving him unsure as to what shamed him the most:

The pitiful way he was succumbing to her; or the completely natural way in which she handled his cock and balls.

As if, for all the world, they truly were her possessions.

"I wonder," she began, "if your wife sensed this weakness inside you and it was that which led her into betraying you with her lover."

As she had known they would, her words jabbed at his former pride and for a moment he became a man again, eyes flashing into hers with an anger and intensity that years before might have intimidated her.

But not now.

And NEVER, she vowed, again.

She simply stared back unblinkingly and wait for his - as she had known they would to drop - her own eyes sparkling with the joy she had gained such power over him she could trample his manhood underfoot.

The imagery of it inspired her and she went on.

"Right now," she told him, "You can thank me for taking ownership of your pitiful manhood by licking my feet like the dog you are."

His shoulders were shaking, and she wondered if he was actually crying.

"Then," she finished, "you can begin the rest of your life with me..."