A man is ordered to present his charms to a wealthy woman.
"Excuse me Ma'am."
"Yes?"
Even though he was enormously agitated by the sudden turn of events the strong suppressant still worked efficiently, allowing for only an indistinctly red shade to be visible in his handsome face, noticeable only by the most attentive of aficionados.
Only moments ago his Mistress had indifferently informed him about a staged bidding auction and had instructed him on what to expect. A potential client was waiting for him. He was going to be sold. Everything had happened so fast, he hadn't been able to cope with the implications a sudden change in ownership meant. He was humiliated beyond belief; he hadn't anticipated going through an adjustment period so soon. His mistress had coldly ordered him to alluringly display the only thing she considered noteworthy - his physical assets - to a prospective buyer, an incredible wealthy woman, patiently waiting outside on her porch.
One last time she had contemptuously smiled at his silent protest. He had realized then, he wasn't going to see her again.
"I'm ready for inspection, Ma'am."
"Oh! What a pleasant surprise to meet such a good looking boy here in the wilderness."
The mature woman watched him intently as he slowly approached her. Their eyes met only briefly, before he lowered them timidly. Yet it had been enough for him to assess the mood the exquisitely dressed woman was in. He felt her gazing stare observing every inch of his perfectly muscled body. He had only been allowed to wear black hipster panties. The female underwear looked alien on his tanned and muscular body. Yet provocatively concealed the one part this peculiar woman seemed to be predominantly interested. He knew his Mistress to be very attentive to prospective clients fetishes.
"You are a shy one. I like that. I like boys to be modest, to know their place." She was visibly delighted by his apparent embarrassment, because it was real. Her obvious attention to detail made him feel extra naked.
"Step closer."
As he had been instructed, he positioned himself next to her, too close for his taste, yet close enough for the mature woman to comfortably touch his sex. It increased his feeling of vulnerability. He tensed, not knowing what this woman was going to do with him, his curbed emotions in uproar. Only the rigorous training and his unmitigated conditioning ensured his compliance. He was a very strong male after all.
"Mm! You smell nice. I like flowery deodorants on boys. It somewhat conceals their masculinity. I assume you've been thoroughly dolled up."
"Yes, Ma'am."
The low timbre of her voice was playful, his perception still sharp to quietly collected as much information as possible, to adjust to her expectations. It was obvious the woman was excited and appreciative of his immaculate physique - his morning workout had been excruciating - yet her tone carried the strength of one accustomed to wealth and power.
"But I'd like to check nonetheless. Look at me boy!"
He raised his head to meet her gaze.
"Have you been fully trained, boy?"
"Yes Ma'am."
"I'm curious on how much milk you've pent up in your reservoir. When was the last time you were allowed to spend?"
He had been trained to mirror whatever alluring talk or fetish a potential owner might prefer. It's been deeply imbedded into his conditioning. It had become second nature to him.
"A week ago, Ma'am."
"Excellent. How long does it take to spill your fluid, boy?"
"I was trained to emit only on command."
"Really? That's even possible? Very nice, indeed. Well, do you know why I've sent for you?"
"You need me for breeding, Ma'am."
"Exactly. My lovely maid has been in my service for some time now and I've decided to have her inseminated. I've been told your seed is excellent for breeding. Let me have a look at your package."
"I'm not allowed to touch myself, Ma'am. Would you please lower my panties, so you have unhindered access."
"Oh, that's a nice feature. So if I'd decide to bid on you, I'd have to help you pee?"
"No, Ma'am, I'm normally wearing a cage allowing me to pee on my own, so I don't require guidance."
"But what if I'd like to oversee your discharge of liquid waste."
"I would politely ask you to allow me pee, Ma'am."
Although now calm on the outside, apart from his still somewhat glowing face, her obvious fetish troubled him. She expected him to have the mindset of a little wayward boy and he had to act accordingly.
"Well, let's get rid of your naughty panties first."