Chapter 3 Heidi
Lisa has been careful not to advertise my status -- except to her
former college roommate, Heidi, who she picked as my internist.
There's nothing as humiliating as having yourself felt, poked and
prodded by a gorgeous brunette, unless it's having that same
brunette at your dinner table discussing your slave status.
I've already written about the first time Lisa sent me to see
Heidi. The second time was even more humiliating. At Lisa's
instruction, I went on a Sunday morning to Heidi's home. She
took me into her office and told me to undress. I waited for her
to step out but she didn't.
"Undress," she said again. I took off my shirt, undid the buckle
on my pants and turned my back on her. "Face this way, please,"
she said. I faced her and stepped out of my pants. I closed my
eyes, as if that somehow protected me from her gaze, and pulled
down Lisa's dirty panties from the previous day. Inside them was
a rag stiff with Lisa's blood; she was menstruating, and when she
did, her night-time pad was part of my next day costume.
"I see Lisa's on time," Heidi said. I was naked now.
"Come here," she said, sitting on a wheeled office stool. I
stepped toward her.
She took my hairless scrotum in her hand and examined my
testicles with her fingers. I was very hard. She touched the
ring inserted in my scrotum at the base of my cock. "Do you have
any problems with the ring, Richard?" she asked.
"Sometimes," I said, blushing fiercely, "when my testicles are
tied up and the cord cuts into me."
"I'll prescribe a salve," she said. "And do you get a rash from
wearing Lisa's panties?"
"Yes," I said.
"I'll give you the name of a lotion to buy for that."
She rolled the stool back and stood up. "Climb up on the table,"
she ordered. "Face down."
For the first time, I noticed that there was a portable table, of
the type used for massages, set up on the other side of the room.
It had a sheet over it and a pillow at one end.
I climbed onto the table. She said: "Lisa asked me to give you
a proctoscopic examination. In order to do that, I'm first
going to have to give you an enema and then a second one."
I said, my voice rising: "I could have done the preparation
myself. Why wasn't I told to?"
"Because Lisa wanted me to give you the enemas."
I submitted to the enemas. They were humiliating and arousing.
I was near sniveling by the time they were over.
When I returned from the bathroom the second time, Lisa had laid
out her tools. She told me to lie on my side with my rear end
toward her and my knees raised.
Her fingers ran over my buttocks where they were tattooed with
Lisa's signature. I also bore the welts from a recent whipping.
"Do these hurt?" she asked.
"Not now." I struggled not to tell her to mind her business.
She was Lisa's instrument and I was Lisa's slave.
"Do they stay with you?"
"From one whipping to the next."
She took a lubricant and swabbed her instrument and my asshole.
The examination took minutes that seemed like an hour.
When it was over, Heidi said: "You're fine."
I got down off the table. Heidi put on a plastic glove.
I said: "Oh, no."
She said: "Oh, yes."
I bent over with my back to her and she felt my prostate.
"Good," she said. "Now one more thing."
"Yes?" I said, dreading the answer.
"Lisa asked me to do a sperm count on you. So I'll need a semen
sample."
"Can't I bring it in?"
"No, Richard. Here and now. And you'll do it right in front of
me."
So I did it in front of her with my eyes closed as I neared
climax. When I ejaculated, Heidi cheered softly. I felt as if I
was red as a beet.
Heidi sent me home and Lisa made me repeat every detail of the
examination. Three days later Heidi called me at the office.
"You have a healthy sperm count, Richard. You'll need a
vasectomy."
I was startled and said so. Heidi responded: "Lisa wants to
stop taking birth control pills and has decided that children
would not be compatible with your life styles. So I'm going to
give you the name of a urologist. Female, of course."
I protested that one female doctor was enough.
"Don't argue, Richard. Lisa wants the vasectomy performed by a
woman doctor. She wants all your medical procedures and all your
examinations performed by female doctors. It humiliates you. I
understand. But that's the point."
And so I went to Dr. Sally Kaufman, a urologist. Dr. Kaufman
wasn't part of Lisa's network. But, as if the ring and tattoo
weren't enough of a clue, she clearly understood from Heidi about
my status. Her examination of me was business-like but I could
not suppress an erection.
I made an appointment to have the procedure performed. The
night before I saw Dr. Kaufman for the second time Lisa whipped
me unmercifully so that I had fresh and bloody welts to show.
Now a second female doctor knew my story and from what Heidi had
said there would be others over time.
But, as I soon discovered, Lisa had other humiliations in mind
for me. One Saturday, we flew to New York to visit a storeroom
in a loft that catered to transvestites. We were expected. Lisa
had made an appointment by telephone with a "consultant," a
brassy blonde female. We went into a back room and Lisa had me
strip down to her underpants. The brassy blonde, Mary Anne,
felt me back and front, lingering over my cock. Lisa explained,
in unnecessary detail, that she always wore the panties before I
did.
Mary Anne grinned widely. "Cool," she announced.
"What's your waist size," she asked me. I told her.
"What size panties are these?" she asked Lisa. Lisa told her.
"I'm going to bring in one size smaller," she said to Lisa. "It
will be a lot tighter on him. You try them on," she said to
Lisa, "and if they're not too uncomfortable for you, we'll go
with the smaller size."
Lisa tried on a pair of forest green panties with control panels
back and front. "They're a little tight," she said, "but I'm
willing to wear them so he can."
Mary Anne took back the green panties and handed them to me. I
tried not to understand.
"Take it off, Richard," Lisa instructed sharply. I did what she
wanted. I started to put on the new ones. "No," she said. "Let
Mary Anne see you first."
Mary Anne looked at my nakedness. She touched my pubic area,
cupped my balls in her hands, turned me around and examined my
tattoo, bent me over and made me spread my cheeks. She ran her
finger down the crack in my ass, pausing briefly at my asshole.
My cock grew hard as a rock.
"Very nice," she said to Lisa. "I've got a depilatory you might
want to try in back and some nice female lotions to use on his
body."
She looked at my armpits and at my legs. "Have him use women's
creams and a woman's razor. He'll find it sexier."
"Okay," she continued. "Put on the panties."
I pulled them up. The increased tightness was perceptible.
"You'll want to examine the elastic every time they're washed,"
she said to Lisa. "The minute they're stretched, they should be
replaced. Keep 'em tight, keep him hard."
Lisa ordered three dozen pair in six different colors. She told
me to try them on in front of Mary Anne and asked Mary Anne each
time to test the fit by stroking my cock, balls and ass. I came
about half way through the collection into a pair of midnight
blue panties.
"He'll wear those home," Lisa announced. "You can package the
rest."
On the plane back to D.C., Lisa kept a firm grip on my hand.
When we got home, she took me up to the bedroom and fed me her
pussy. It was sopping wet. Afterwards, we made love and, after
a nap, we made love again. And yet again.
In the morning, she said: "I'd like to take you somewhere where
I could put you on display all the time. I'd like the whole
world to know that you belong to me. I'd like the whole world to
know that you wear my filthy panties. I'd like everybody we ever
meet to know I whip you."
I went down on her. She gripped my hair and put her legs around
my neck. And she had another orgasm. I wasn't up to one more
fuck. But I was satisfied. Lisa's imagination had triumphed
again. I suspected that it would be only a matter of time until
she figured out a way to put me on display.
