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Part One

Even as a teenager, the male phallus had fascinated Ms. Lucinda Contrell, but not in the normal sense of youthful wonderment and curiosity. No, Lucinda Contrell’s interest was in control..., manipulation..., making the odd cylinder of flesh stand for her..., and after a suitable interval of play, suitable for her enjoyment of course, perhaps..., just perhaps..., permitting it to attain the strange spasmodic release which its custodian seemed to think was its paramount function.

And so Ms. Lucinda Contrell, respectfully called Miss Lucinda by her male underlings, considered her position of employment to be the pinnacle of her fulfilling career as the masturbator of boys.

Yes, years before at age 28 Miss Lucinda had quickly risen to the position of Chief Masturbatrix at the infamous Degradation Club, that secretive but notorious enclave where the wealthy Dominant women of the world vent their demented proclivities.

There were other employees of the club who achieved noteworthy status at a young age. The Whipmistress was 30. The Director of Bondage had been promoted to her exulted status at age 27. There were excellent nurses, fresh out of school, who could psychologically break the most belligerent of recruits within an hour of having him strapped to the examination table. But all admired Miss Lucinda’s skill, an unusual combination of both physical strength and knowledge of the male anatomy that proved to be so entertaining for the grateful members of the Club..., entertaining and rewarding.

Miss Lucinda learned early on that delighting the members of the Degradation Club could not only provide self satisfaction but could also be tremendously lucrative. Gratuities were generously offered for a pleasing exhibition of male humiliation, and so at age 32 Miss Lucinda’s bank account was continuing to grow along with her talent and her desire to provide the ultimate exhibition..., having a virile tumefied young male squirm for climactic release, but extending his torment until that most coveted moment..., when a subtle nod or perhaps a casual motion of the hand of a woman..., yes a Dominant woman..., signaled Lucinda to finally allow the slippery, turgid manhood to ignominiously empty itself, spewing male seed in the direction of her choosing.

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