It Gets Lonely Without Her

Ms. Julia has been gone for three days now on some kind of business trip, and it's really boring here.

I can't help but wonder that I'm being watched and recorded.

Often I stare at the air conditioning vents up by the ceiling and wonder if there's a tiny camera mounted in there. Considering how meticulous Ms. Julia can be about details, and how strict she can be about sticking to the rules, it doesn't seem beyond her to have this guest house rigged up.

She has the money to do it. And her property is already set up with security monitoring.

There are three smoke detectors in here, along with a carbon monoxide detector, I wonder if there's anything else hiding in there. There's a very large mirror mounted on the wall too, and it's fastened very securely that I can't lift it or see behind it. It makes me wonder if it's one-way glass with a camera behind it.

I guess when I'm stuck in this little place for several days straight, my mind wanders and thinks about stuff like this.

"Don't even ATTEMPT to take this cage off!" she said to me when she put it on. "If I catch you fucking with this, you be will kicked out, just as you are!"

Which is why I wonder how she might know if I was fucking with it.

She can already monitor her house from her cellphone because the security company gives her an app that lets her view the cameras remotely. But in her house, you can see the cameras mounted on the ceilings, even though they are small.

But I gotta believe they can also make very tiny cameras that can be cleverly hidden from view. Even though Ms. Julia puts a lot of trust in me, she's not a fool.

Fatima brings me three meals a day, albeit light. I do the treadmill. I watch television, and plays games on this laptop. There are books here to read, but they don't interest me right now. Otherwise, time is very monotonous when Ms. Julia is gone for days at a time.

I miss being with her, even as strict and demanding that she can be.

The Utopian Fantasy She's Created

Ms. Julia lays in bed on her side and falls quickly into a snoreful slumber after her usual bedtime orgasm.

It's not the snoring that keeps me awake, however. It's spooning her with my locked cock nudged up against her crack. I don't fall so easily to sleep. I guess I spend so much of my thoughts worrying that I'm doing everything right, just the way she wants it, as perfectly as she demands. Knowing that she wants me spooning her, that she wants my arm and legs in the perfect spot, and that she doesn't want me to move, keeps me from falling asleep.

In some regards, I'm her pet. She grooms me, primps me, decorates me. In other regards I'm her servant. I paint her toenails, massage her, cut her hair, comfort her, and help her cum to sleep. But there's something greater going on. She's redefined me into a symbol of subservience.

It's not just a kink that she wants me permanently collared, nude, hairless, and kneeled at her side. She truly believes that this is where men really should be. She's convinced that women have a more superior psychology in balancing their intellect with emotions. She believes women make better managers and leaders. She believes that if the tables were turned 180 degrees, where we all lived in a woman's world, humanity would have advanced much farther than we have today.

"Did you know that before the Roman Empire, there were societies where women did all the leading?" she asked me once. She went on to say that men were still valued and respected; they just had their place, the same way women have had theirs, barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen.

I realize that I'm just part of a utopian fantasy that she has managed to create between her home, her work, and her friends.

I know that most men would only entertain this concept as sexual play, knowing that the man's world is still reality. And I also know that in today's world of gender equality, I should stand up for my freedom and rights. On the other hand, this life I find myself in feels right for me. Its how I spent my years growing up. Its exactly how I see myself.

Perhaps it's a coincidence that we found each other. Although, I'm reminded by both Fatima and her friends that I didn't just land in her lap, and there were other men/boys who preceded me here.

In some strange way, I want to be the last.

Almost Completely Bare

"How was your visit with Dana, today?" Ms. Julia asked me last evening.

"Fine", I started. "She said probably just a few more treatments and I'll be done."

"Good. Show me", she ordered.

I stood before her while she handled my cock. She put on her reading glasses to get a better look. She moved my cock and balls to the left and to the right. She felt gently between the side of my balls and my thighs, fishing for any kind of hair or regrowth. Then she ran her hand across my abs, down my thighs and down my calves.

"It's looking much better!"

Strangely, I felt proud.

"Turn around", she ordered.

Ms. Julia spread my cheeks apart.

"There are still some fine hairs in there. Make sure she gets all of that!"

"I think now you'll understand what it's like for Fatima to have to shave her body just to live up to some crazy idea of what a woman should look like", Ms. Julia went on.

I wondered to myself, when I get old and wrinkled, will I still look as boyish? How many years do I have left where I can fully satisfy her vision of a "real man"?

Ms. Julia has this obsession with macro photography. She has me pose in various ways, with lighting placed specific ways to that let her create stunning works of nude photos. Close-ups of my nipple, close-ups of my navel, close-ups of my cock.

Which is one reason why she continues to obsess with my weight and body shape. I'm not overweight by any means, I'm actually quite slender. There are certain areas she wants to sculp, however. She wants this very boyish, yet tight abdomen. Not a six pack, just smooth, flat, but tight abs. She wants skinny arms, delicate shoulder, and a beautifully arched back when I sit. I still fall into the habit of slouching.

She also wants more meat on my butt. She says I have a gorgeous looking ass, but that it could use a touch more roundness. She has me walk and run on a treadmill every other night, gradually increasing the speed and elevation. It's supposed to keep my ass tight, knock off any bit of fat that might accrue, and keep me at this idyllic body shape she wants.

Ms. Julia has me eating no more and no less than 2,000 calories per day on days that I work on the treadmill. On other days, it comes down to 1,400 calories. She has Fatima preparing very specific meals for me. Much of it is high protein in the form of turkey breast, almonds, hard boiled eggs, and quinoa. There's always blanched vegetables like carrots, brussels sprouts, and bell peppers. Breakfasts are usually unflavored greek yogurt with chia seeds.

Considering it was Sunday night, Ms. Julia wants to get to bed before 9:00 PM so that she's well rested for Monday morning. Sex at this time becomes predictable. I go down and give her a good licking, which is followed by rigorous clitoral massage with one of her vibrators. After she cums, she lays on her side and I spoon her from behind. She falls fast asleep.

My cock normally stays locked up.

Usually at this time, I think about things. It's not until hours later, that I fall asleep too.