This is chapter 21, part 2 of the Pleasing María novel. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by explicit descriptions of sexual activity or violence, or by strong language, please exit this site immediately. To view the Table of Contents of the novel click here. To go directly to the first chapter, click here. To read the latest novel post, click here. This is a rough second draft.
Chapter 21 – Part 2, PerfectPenis’s Houseboy
The hobby room was homey, white walls with photos and ornaments of animals – predators and prey mostly from the African savanna. I felt at home there as only prey were present in the menagerie, unless you counted the garden snake.
Two days after my arrival, workmen came in and installed a mini-fridge and a two burner table-top stove. They also installed a smoke detector in the ceiling of the hobby room and elsewhere throughout the house. The maid began stocking my kitchenette with foods and drinks, but she continued to bring me prepared foods.
A few days later, workmen replaced my cot with a high, twin-sized bed with drawers underneath. They installed a huge mirror on the ceiling above the bed and mirrors on the sides of the alcove in which my bed was positioned. I discovered a box of condoms and a box of lubricants in the drawers. Now the high bed and mirrors made sense, it was a fucking platform. I was happy, I assumed this meant PP would be spending a lot of ‘quality time’ with me. The maid pulled in my suitcase containing my clothes, toiletries, laptop, and other artifacts of my now reduced life, and I packed them away.
Whenever PP was out of the house, my door was locked. My side required a key, the other side had a locking knob. The maid had keys, but she kept them very close. She came in daily to clean and to restock food items. I was allowed to leave the house with permission from PP, which I seldom asked and he always granted – the maid would let me in-and-out, but my path through the house was directly to and from the back door, which lead through coffee bushes to a back street.
We settled into a routine. María came over frequently, usually daily for a few hours, and often stayed the night. Her orgasmic moaning could be heard at any time, day or night.
María roamed the house wearing only PP’s button shirts, half-buttoned, and she teased me with flashes of her breasts and vulva as the shirt swirled around her. That was more erotic than her lace panties. The shirt-tail flashed glimpses of the paradise underneath. María teased, no, tormented me relentlessly – punishment, no doubt, for some unknown transgression. But this was more than sexual humiliation; it was much harder, like a deep hate for an unforgivable sin. She wasn’t saying ‘look I what I’m giving another man,’ but ‘look at what you’ll never have again.’ I had no idea what I had done, and I didn’t understand why she’d be so angry – she had constant access to a great penis and a comfortable life in her hometown. These sessions of torment were usually followed by her moans and cries as PP sampled that paradise. I hated her at those moments – she was still my wife. Of course, I was forbidden to touch María, and as she moved around me, she deliberately prick-teased me, although my penis was incapable of erection. In PP’s presence, María was hard towards me and would do and say things to humiliate me. More than once, she sat with her vulva in my full view, commenting on how pathetic I had become.
I rationalized María’s torments were an extension of PP’s humiliations for me, and I should enjoy them equally, even encourage them.
PP also tormented me by walking around the house nude, his penis hanging deliciously, swinging from side to side. This was another deliberate provocation and torment, but I was rewarded once or twice a week with the honor of PP fucking my mouth. I preferred to suck him slowly to ejaculation, but was always satisfied when his semen filled my throat.
PP and María constantly devised new torments for me, watching my response to judge their degree of humiliation.
At least once per day, I was required to soap and pump-up PP in the shower, then watch as PP soaped and bounced María on his penis.
PP and María often went out in the evenings to a show or restaurant. She would dress up provocatively and she surely prick-teased every man around by her presence and beauty. PP loved to show her off, just as I did when I took her out, and he returned with her to the house on fire with lust for her. Barely, inside the house, he would lean her over the kitchen table, throw her skirt up on her back, and fuck her from behind. He would call me into the kitchen to make coffee or snacks, and he made a show of fucking her. He would hold her by the hips, rolling her hips around while he stroked her, sometimes angling his body so his penis and her vulva were in full view to me. María always ignored my presence – I watched her fuck other men for many years, and she was used to it. Of course, I didn’t get to lick clean her vulva after PP ejaculated into her, and I certainly didn’t get to fuck her myself when PP was finished – this was not like the old days. These torments filled me with lust for her body, lust for his penis, and hatred of him, sometimes of her.
They made love frequently, one to three times daily, and I was often called to bring PP café or drinks while they were engaged in fucking or sucking. PP would lay flat for these occasions, and María would climb over him naked, swinging her hair around, flowing slowly over his face, body and penis like caressing fingers. Maria had told him how her hair disrupted me. She’d lick, kiss and suck his genitals from different sides. When I sucked PP, he had a routine for me, but María was allowed to arouse him as she wanted, and she was flexible and expert. María had never sucked me as deliciously as I watched her suck PP, and I was depressed to see what I had missed from my beautiful, sensual wife. She often would bring PP to orgasm while presenting his mouth with her vulva, and they would mutually explode within minutes of each other.
PP didn’t have the same appreciation of María’s vulva I always had, and it seemed he only tolerated putting his mouth to her vulva when she directly maneuvered for it. I thought he was a fool, her vulva was a paradise of taste and scents and textures for me, but he had won this battle, and I was banished from that paradise.
* * *
My testicle hurt continuously. The doctors warned me this might be the case, but they suggested the pain would diminish and advised me not to take any medications.
PP came into my room one day as I gingerly massaged my testicle, and he sympathetically asked about the condition of my testicle. He reminded me I begged him for complete castration, he attempted to destroy my testicles, and he would have succeeded if María not intervened. I told him the doctors left the testicle for the small amount of hormones it still produced, but it ached constantly. The doctors also told me my breasts might enlarge due to diminished hormones, which already happened. My breasts approached A-cup size. PP said he had a prescription for a new medicine specifically for testicle pain, he would get it for me. Two days later, I begin taking the pills. They did help reduce the pain.
* * *
PerfectPenis’s display of María in public boosted his social stature immeasurably. She was still the most beautiful and sexy woman in Antigua; she was married to another man but she was PP’s Mayan wife. Her husband was a gringo; PP castrated the gringo and took her away; the husband was now his houseboy. That was a minimum four times multiplier of his stature, but the best wasn’t yet public knowledge – he forced her castrated gringo husband to watch him fuck María; he made her castrated gringo husband suck his penis and testicles; he anus- and mouth-fucked her castrated gringo husband, and he granted selected friends the chance to fuck her castrated gringo husband.
The defeat of a gringo by an indigenous man was an even greater triumph – I was pushed below the lowest social caste. The multiplier effect of these last activities was incalculable. PP surely swaggered around town as proudly as a rich drug trafficker and would have been the envy of every macho in town.
María accepted this social classification of PP and I. PP defeated me and taken her as his prize. I accepted my new station in life also – I hated PP but feared and admired him, and I accepted María was now unconditionally his whore.
I also accepted María pleased me, she gave me what I craved – sexual abuse, humiliation, and abandonment. In reality, PP did not destroy me, he led me to destroy myself. He stroked my sense of inferiority and need for humiliation, leading me to eagerly participate in sexual abuse and castration. María helped him – she told him my most intimate secrets just as she told me about him. She made me an easy victim.
* * *
PP treated me like a mascot around his house. I shared the room with a menagerie of small animals, turtles, iguanas, fish in aquariums, a garden snake, rodents, lots of small mice. I learned to feed and take care of the animals from the maid, and enjoyed that diversion. And like all his other animals, I was naked all the time. I was PP’s houseboy, bringing his coffee and drinks and doing small errands in the house, always willingly at his command. His housemaid first freaked to see me naked, but once she saw my penis was broken, she lost her fear. When PP had visitors, I was confined to the hobby room or was given a one-piece robe that covered me from neck to ankles.
I could always tell when someone entered and left the house – the front patio gate was squeaky and the path through the patio to the house was coarse gravel. I soon was able to discern the difference in gate squeaks and footsteps of PP, María, and the maid.
I heard sounds of construction at the back of the house and asked the maid about it. She said PP was building a small apartment attached to the house, otherwise, she knew nothing about it. I asked her some general questions about PP’s activities and she answered PP was a general contractor for house and business construction, and he had other personal apartments and offices in Guatemala City.
End of book content.
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