Enlarging the clitoris is quite a rewarding torment, and can be done with simple potions applied via injection. Firstly, the smallest possible gauge of needle should be used, to prevent unwanted bruising. An Enlargement Solution can be injected by holding the clitoris firmly between the fingers and injecting slowly, being sure to slide the needle in deep enough. Five millilitres is enough for a first injection, and will take effect slowly, as Engorgement Solution usually does. It will not be visible right away—it begins to permeate the inner lobes of the clitoris first, and the easiest way to feel it working is to manually check the tightness of the vaginal passage.
After three days of injections, the vaginal passage should be so tightly obstructed the subject is aroused on a constant basis. After a week, it begins to swell outwardly, and should be putting pressure on the urethra. A catheter will be needed, and it is best to accustom the urethra and bladder to this control.
A clever or strict owner may, indeed, use the catheter as a leash at this time, if the pet is to be mobile; some have written me to say their pets have been used to water citrus trees.
The second week, the injections may increase to six or seven millilitres, with less needle penetration. The outward clitoris is our target now, and should be big enough to fasten a ring or other such around the base. Keep in mind the clitoris is furled—that is to say, folded in half—and must be bound carefully. Referring to René Ambrose’s texts will illustrate clearly how to weight the clitoris and coax it further out of the body—but this is not the subject of this monograph. We are only concerned with enlarging.
Regular injections can step up at a rate of one or two millilitres per week, and the clitoris can be Charmed or Transfigured as one pleases, though wandwork is to be used cautiously, potions being much more suited to this application. However, temporary Charms can be used with great effectiveness in regards to discipline.
A pet with a clitoris the size of a fist is the best size for a pet still permitted mobility on two legs, and the author owns a pet of this description, whose clitoris is held up and out of the way of the legs by way of a ring about the base, which is attached to the pet’s collar. This presents the clitoris very nicely, and it can be stroked—or spanked—as the need arises. Temporary Engorgement Charms are wonderful for punishment not quite so severe as to need a spanking.
Having the most sensitive and delicate of organs within easy reach, and of unnaturally monstrous size, makes one’s pets far more tractable and controllable, without the need to use messy Curses. A simple touch, or even the promise of one, is enough. The Enlarged clitoris also assists with penetrative training, as it is by far the easiest and most natural way to control arousal, which is a key component in the Kildaire Method.
A pet that is fully trained in this method is really wonderful to see at work. The humiliation of being led around by the catheter or by collar fastened around the base of the clitoris, the unwanted arousal at whatever Mistress or Master wishes, the way it looks—a heavy peach-like fruit, red and decadent—makes the somewhat tedious effort worth the trouble. I have heard of this procedure being done to Ponies, and their owners write to say it is a beautiful thing to see the clitoris heaving up and down as they trot about; I have read letters from owners who have tailored all of their lap pet’s clothing to show and frame the organ, that they may pat and stroke it at their leisure; I have also had the pleasure of seeing a quite large specimen—the size of a grapefruit—fastened and shaped by corsetry into quite artistic forms. It is a very malleable organ.
One may also unfold the clitoris before proceeding, but I find this creates something too similar to a penis, and therefore ruins the uniqueness of the clitoris itself.
For those concerned with their pet’s suffering, there is no need—muggles are generally far more plastic than the media has led us to believe in previous regimes, and really do not suffer if one uses a small enough gauge of needle, and enough care in the doing. I caution those attempting not to Enlarge the clitoris further than the size of a grapefruit, unless the subject has quite a large clitoris to begin with (I have amended this after a Lady wrote in to say she has a hermaphroditic pet, whose clitoris was a full inch long before she began on this regimen, and therefore safely Enlarged to the size of a small melon without ill effect).
If the hood is copious enough, it must be stretched so that it always is able to fulfil its purpose and cover the clitoris adequately. However, if this is not desired, it can also become a useful constriction about the base of the Enlarged clitoris, which can serve as a fine and constant torment to those pets with owners that use the deSade Method.
L
ucius looked up from his book, watching as the slave-master, Evers, supervised his newest muggle sex slave: a fetching creature, exotic in that he was American, and had been modified by muggle knives already. Lucius had been shown the boy’s clit in the catalogue, fat and beautiful as the rest of him, and it was the whole reason he was reading this text, borrowed from his wife. Hermaphroditos’ blessings were difficult to see, particularly in Muggles, who brutishly maimed the blessings away, when they noticed them at all.
‘Boy,’ he said, softly, seeing if the slave would look over or resist; to his delight, the boy looked over, and seemed pleased. ‘Are you blessed by Hermaphroditos?’
‘I am,’ said the boy, cautiously. ‘He is my patron,’ he added, after a pause.
That was a surprise; muggles had left the gods behind long ago. ‘Are you half-blooded?’
A pause. ‘…I don’t know in what context. Yes, I am half one thing and half another, but on many axes—ethnicity, class…’
‘Magic.’
Another pause, the deep brow wrinkling. ‘…I’m a changeling, I always thought,’ he said, quietly, and submitted to Evers gently tilting his head back, rinsing his hair. ‘Half sea and half desert, never comfortable anywhere,’ he went on, afterward. ‘May I ask questions now?’
‘If you are not too impertinent,’ Lucius allowed, curious.
‘Do you also worship the ancient gods of Greece?’
‘I do, yes. My family always has.’
‘I was born under the stars of Hermes, and he is one of my patrons. So is Himeros, and Hermaphroditos. May I know your patrons, and the household gods?’
‘Then Hermes brought you to me,’ Lucius said, pleased. ‘It is pleasing to know you have accepted your lot. Our household god and patron is Hermes.’
‘Might I ask what my lot actually is? I observed enough to figure out I’m going to be a sex slave,’ he said, very quietly, and Lucius did not like the tension; unlike many, he didn’t like his slaves pre-broken. It meant he was cleaning up someone else’s mess before he could train them how he liked.
‘You’ve been raped before, haven’t you?’
‘Yes,’ said the boy; contrary to meekness and shame, he lifted his chin, defiantly looking into Lucius’ eyes. ‘I was fifteen. I was exploited and exhibited. It happened many times since then. I like sex, I would not mind being your submissive pet all the time. I think I would be better at my new job if you did not rape me, but I cannot stop you of course, only the gods could do that.’
Evers and Lucius exchanged a flickering look, but much passed between them. Most muggles wept and begged, or threatened and fought; to have such a nuanced understanding and acceptance was surprising.
‘I do not enjoy force,’ Lucius said. ‘Nor am I insecure enough to need crude and tasteless displays. A married man does not flaunt his sex slaves. What do you like about submission, boy?’
‘Being given an order, obeying it, and receiving praise,’ was the immediate answer. ‘Knowing that I do not have to figure out what is wanted, because I will be told. I… I hope you are the kind of owner that treats me as people treat a very expensive and delicate companion animal, like a… peacock.’
Lucius smiled; it was a purposeful choice, there was no doubt he’d heard or seen the peacocks roaming the grounds. ‘Peacocks cannot learn to obey orders.’
‘Ah, no. But horses get shot if they can’t run anymore, and…’ he trailed off; now, shame hung his head, averted his eyes.
‘Remember not to trail off when speaking to Master,’ Evers said, but much gentler than Lucius was used to; he’d spent more time with the boy at this point, so it was his expertise that softened the order. The boy did not need a strong hand, then; as evidenced by his nervous swallow, and continuing.
‘I am concerned you will discard me because my body is crippled, Master.’
‘I knew that when I bought you,’ Lucius said. ‘Wizards do not find such common afflictions a permanent state, as muggles must. Take your potions like a good boy and you shall be able to do all I wish, in time.’
The boy stood, taking the towelling Evers was doing quietly. When he was dry, Evers removed all of the hair over his genital area, but left the rest, and applied white olive oil to every inch of skin, paying especial attention to all the scars and stretchmarks, and defining every single dark curl on the boy’s head; they brushed his shoulders. The boy had stopped talking, but Lucius allowed it, going back to his book, and making a few notes. When Evers had gone, the bath things cleared away, the boy finally spoke again, in the stillness and warmth of Lucius’ study.
‘You have medicine that can cure what’s wrong with my bones, and my brain and… everything?’
‘Yes, you poor creature,’ Lucius said, feeling pity for him. ‘Come here.’
The boy came, walking carefully, as Lucius had when he’d been young, toe to heel, rolling on the edge of his foot, gingerly and in pain.
‘Good boy,’ Lucius said, and saw the way it flushed the naked skin of the boy’s mons. He didn’t smile, nor let his eyes drift down to watch; eyes had been the most of this boy’s rape, so the first way to create trust was to not stare. Lucius gestured. ‘Sit on the edge of the desk, facing me.’ He had pushed a little back while the boy was crossing the room, to make room for this—the boy had fetchingly large hips, and a little belly.
The boy pushed himself up onto the desk with care; even so, Lucius saw his wrists flex in a way that was likely painful.
‘Good boy,’ Lucius said, and saw the boy’s pupils get a little wider and darker. ‘Tell me about this scar on your chest,’ he ordered, ghosting his fingertips over the purple line.
‘My tits were removed, my surgeon and I decided it was best to remove my nipples alongside, because they had too much nerve damage to be worth grafting back on. They grew in too fast and too big, you see. And being hermaphroditic only made them… um, sicker, for lack of a better term. I miss—well, I wish I’d ever known what working tits were like, but I never did. I’m still mourning, but I don’t regret it. They were very big.’
Lucius took all this in, and murmured, softly, ‘Good boy. How big? Measurements.’
The boy narrowed his eyes in thought, biting his lip. ‘I… think they weighed about five pounds, total? Five or six. And they were…’ he counted on his fingers silently, paused, counted again. ‘Six inches bigger around at the nipples than I was underneath my tits. I… it’s hard to remember, I stopped paying attention to them for years before getting them off five years ago.’ He paused. ‘If you can use magic to put back a pair that are like, identical in size but actually work, I… um.’ He paused. ‘Well, as long as you understand I’m still a boy, I would like that very much. You could—if—if you wanted to milk them or—or pierce my nipples, I… always wanted to try those things. Master,’ he added, and Lucius appreciated that he was already trying.
It was popular to modify slaves, of course; but in Lucius’ opinion, it had to be done delicately. Too often he had seen his peers burn through pets, which seemed a waste of time. Lucius didn’t understand how they could treat such expensive objects so poorly; really, it spoke of poor breeding and new money, doing that. Some of the slaves Lucius owned had been with him since boyhood, and practically read his mind, they were so well-trained.
Narcissa was equally but differently fond of modifying the bodies of her slaves—his lady wife was very fond of large teats, and fresh milk, and like Lucius she had not the common taste for humiliating her herd of little calves. True, they were drained of all their memories and thoughts with liberal use of Imperius and Pensieve, and, true, Narcissa did like to swell their genitals and bellies as much as Lucius did his boys; but she was still gentle, and pampered them, and their lives were much better than they otherwise would have been, before becoming slaves.
Lucius was still as yet undecided about how he wanted to modify this slave; it was certain that he would—modification was chiefest of his pleasures—but he had never found a boy with a cunt, before.
The boy was getting tense and worried; Lucius moved his hand, brushing his long, smoothed nails against the satin hair on that narrow, soft chest, just above the purple scar. ‘Good boy,’ he said, and felt the relief in the lines of that soft, pale body. The boy was soft now, but Lucius would make him much more lush, he decided. ‘A belly like this deserves a chest that matches,’ he murmured. ‘Something just as soft, and round, and full.’
He did not miss the tiny sound, muffled by pressed-shut lips, and looked up. ‘You agree?’
‘Soft, and round, and full are my favourite kinks, Master,’ the boy said softly, shyly.
‘Go on.’
‘I like being filled with liquid, or squishy things like eggs, or tentacles, or… squirmy symbiotic creatures. I like enemas, or drinking lots, or being cathetered and having more water forced into my bladder. Or um, well, I like to fantasise I have tits, and someone is making them bigger. I try to imagine what being milked would feel like, what it would feel like to have milk coming out of me. Oh, and also the reverse—having my nipples penetrated and having fluid pumped into me, as though my tits are just balloons. I go back and forth on whether I like my womb full, depending on how much pain I’m in, but it’s always about being full of liquids, or eggs, or sometimes a tentacle monster. I also like my clit getting bigger—I was taking medicine that sort of did that a bit. Testosterone, it’s the boy-hormone.’
‘What an imaginative boy you are,’ Lucius praised, feeling sure Hermes had blessed him with this one. ‘As it happens, I was planning on doing most of that.’
‘Really? Do you want me to keep going?’
‘There’s more?’ Lucius leaned back, letting a little surprised amusement show in his voice, in the quirk of a brow.
The boy’s face lit up in a smile, for the first time—it was incandescent, especially with how wonderfully straight his teeth were. Americans, Lucius had been told by the slave-merchant, always had astonishingly straight teeth, usually quite white as well. This boy did not disappoint.
‘Master, I invent kinks like you wouldn’t believe.’
Lucius chuckled, as much at the American turn of phrase as the very American confidence. He got to his feet. ‘Get down,’ he said, with a gesture that he saw the pet observe. The pet hopped down, wincing slightly at the drop. ‘Good boy, I know it hurts,’ Lucius said softly, to see what acknowledging it would do. The boy relaxed, a little, and let the pain show more; good, Lucius needed him to not destroy himself.
‘Will my medicine be ready soon, Master?’ the boy asked, but didn’t sound very hopeful—he sounded cautious.
‘Yes, pet, a month’s time. I will be gentle with you until then.’ Lucius gently hooked a finger under the boy’s chin, tilting his face up. ‘And you must not harm yourself if you can help it, is that clear? If you are in pain, stop.’
‘Yes, Master. I promise.’
‘Good boy. I do not allow anyone to damage my possessions.’
‘If I fail you, will I be hit, Master?’
‘I will not be striking you,’ Lucius said firmly. ‘My slaves do not fail me.’
‘What do you mean, they don’t fail you? What if you ask me to do something and I can’t, because it would hurt? Or what if I say no to you?’
‘Then I will find out why,’ Lucius said. ‘And there are spells, if you are recalcitrant. Spells to keep you from orgasm, spells to control your will, spells to read your thoughts.’ Lucius indulged in a softly wicked smile, seeing the arousal in that face he held captive.
‘That’s another three kinks I have…’ the boy said, swallowing hard, pupils dark and wide again. ‘How are you so sexy…?’
Lucius chuckled, and gave the boy’s lips a kiss, for that; and found the boy a slow, thoughtful, skilled kisser. Lucius had known muggles to be terrible at it—he’d had to train most of his boys out of trying to take over the kiss, rush it, open their mouths and use too much tongue; but this boy immediately surrendered, mirroring Lucius. There was a slight delay that said he was observing, remembering, before mimicking. Good. Lucius pulled away.
‘Follow,’ he said, and was pleased when the boy’s eyes flicked immediately to Lucius’ hands, expecting another gesture. Good, a fast learner. Lucius gave him one, turning and leaving the study, slowing his usual pace, knowing how slowly the boy needed to move.
‘May I speak?’
‘You may, while we are alone. You will not speak to other people unless spoken to.’
‘I will try my best, Master.’
‘Why is it difficult?’ Lucius asked immediately.
‘I was punished for not talking to people,’ the boy said, quietly. ‘And I was given the Silent Treatment a lot as punishment. It feels rude to be silent, like I’m shunning people. I’m terribly frightened of being rude.’
‘And you were never taught how not to be?’ Lucius asked, coaxing. He did not like that small voice, that hung head, not when it had no just cause.
‘I asked and asked, and nobody ever explained the rules to me!’ the pet said, with a burst of old frustration. ‘Just—just tell me what I’m supposed to do, you know? Nobody would. They acted like it was rude to ask; but how else am I meant to learn what people want, and—’ he stopped, trying to take a deep breath, straining to keep his voice quiet. ‘Sorry, Master. It’s a sore spot. I want so badly to be a good boy, and I just keep meeting people who decide I’m a bad one no matter what I do or say. And I have a lot of thoughts and it’s hard to keep them inside. It’s very messy up in here,’ he said, tapping his temple. ‘Noisy. I can’t hear myself think unless I talk.’ He gave a wan smile. ‘There’s a reason I like brain-drain kink.’
‘Such colourful terms,’ Lucius said, and opened the door to his bedroom, with another gesture as he said, ‘In. Good boy.’ He shut the door. ‘Sit on the bench at the foot of the bed. Stay.’
He noted, when he said Stay, that the boy slumped a bit, fidgeted, clearly having some trouble sitting up straight; that would be the loose joints, Lucius knew—it had been the first sign his family had that something had been wrong with Lucius. Lucius made note of it, as he went to the fireplace, getting a pinch of Floo powder from the jar on the green marble mantelpiece and going to see Severus.