Michael

Michael Part 2

I spent a very restless night. Despite taking all the painkillers I dared, every time I moved and particularly when I tried to roll over, my beaten arse sent waves of agony through my body. I had been dismissed from Mr. Hunters' presence as soon as I made my final obeisance to him and staggered back to my flat, praying that none of the security guards would see me and ask what was wrong.

During the long wakeful periods of the night my mind constantly went over the happenings of the evening and what my life might now become. Why had I allowed this to happen? Deep down I realised that no matter how I might rationalise it, the truth was that I wanted it. I had wanted this sort of a relationship, where I would be controlled and forced to subjugate my wishes to those of another but at the same time I would be looked after and all my material needs would be supplied. That this should happen with a man like my boss was something I'd never even dreamed of. The beating was horrible, no signs of the "endorphin rush" I'd read about on the BDSM websites. It was all pure pain and suffering but then again, something in my mind wanted to experience it again!

Around six in the morning I gave up trying to sleep and limped into the shower. As I washed myself I gingerly allowed my fingers to stroke my tortured buttocks. I was sickened by the ridges in my flesh and the pain that the touch of my own fingers brought to me. When I had dried myself I plucked up the courage to look at myself in the mirror. As I looked over my shoulder at the ruin of my arse I gave an involuntary gasp. It was as if cans of red, blue and black paint had been spread over my flesh, the colours mixing and merging from the base of my spine to the tops of my thighs. On the right side of my right buttock there was a particularly bad bruise that had wept blood but had scabbed over during the night. For a moment I couldn't think why this should be, and then it dawned on me that this was where the tip of the cane must have been biting into my body.

I took more painkillers and limped, naked, back into the flat. I hoped that if I kept as still as I could the bleeding wouldn't restart. I couldn't imagine what the housekeeper was going to make of the bloodied sheets! I walked to the window, looking out across the expanse of parkland that surrounded the house. Frequently I would run there first thing in the morning but most certainly not this morning!

My normal routine, when he was at home, was to go to Mr. Hunters study at seven each morning with the list of the days' appointments. He would then brief me on anything he felt I needed to know, maybe over coffee and a light breakfast if he was feeling in an expansive mood. Although the events of last evening must obviously have altered our relationship tremendously, I was still his PA and had had no orders to change the normal run of events. This being the case at six forty-five I dressed with great difficulty. Trying to put on pants and trousers while not letting them touch your skin is not easy. By seven I was outside the door of the study where my whole life had changed so drastically just a few hours before. Once again I pressed the intercom.

"Yes?"

"Michael, Sir".

"Come in."

My heartbeat quickened as I pushed open the door. What would my reception be? I need not have worried; it was as if last evening had never happened. My boss sat behind his desk in one of his many chalk stripe suits. He looked up as I walked across the floor, trying not to limp.

"Good morning Michael, how are you this morning?"

Many replies raced through my head at his question but discretion proved the better part of valour and I confined myself to a neutral "Fine, Sir". His lips twisted in a thin smile at that.

"So what have we this morning?"

I quickly ran through his list of appointments for the day. These were already down-loaded to his palm pilot so it was purely a formality. When I had finished he studied me for a few moments then seemed to reach some sort of conclusion.

"I will not require your services for the rest of the day. Get one of the secretaries to cover anything you think may require cover. I want you to be at Dr. Menzies in Harley Street at nine-thirty prompt. You will do whatever he tells you to do. Understand? Oh, and you can take the Bentley. Tell the chauffeur to drop you in Harley Street then pick him up at the office later. It may save some tittle tattle below stairs".

I knew that Menzies was Mr. Hunters' doctor, he had in fact examined me before I got my job but why would he want to see me? And more sinisterly, why should the boss emphasise that I was to do what he told me? I was very tempted to ask for an explanation but from the way Mr. H was looking at me I thought better of it.

"Very good Sir. Is that all?"

"For now, I shall see you …later". He drew out the pause before the final word. I shuddered with something I couldn't place. Fear? Anticipation? Lust?

He dropped his gaze to the papers on his desk and I took this as a sign of dismissal and walked out of the room.

It only took a few moments once I was back in my flat to arrange the cover necessary and to tell the chauffeur I would need him at eight for the run to town. I tried to grab a bite of breakfast but my mind was now churning over what this appointment with the doctor could entail. I had no real idea but something told me it might not be too pleasant.

On the stroke of eight I walked out of the front door as the Bentley pulled smoothly to a stop. I love this car, it's only a few months old and the smell of new leather is beautiful. The morning papers were on the back seat waiting for me, so as we made our sedate way through the countryside I caught up on world events. It proved to be rather a slack day for news and soon my thoughts came back yet again to my present situation. What would the chauffeur, now what's his name, got it, Evans, think if he could see the state of my rear? What would the guy on the bicycle that we've just passed think if he knew I'd fellated and been buggered by the man who did it last night?

Once again, why am I doing this? I can stop it all now by telling Evans to stop the car and let me out. Mr. Hunter will make things difficult for me but I could get over it given time. I wouldn't be beaten and used as a sex toy; I could lead a normal life.

Then from deep down comes the answer. I'm here because I want to be here, to be a slave to this man. It's what I've always wanted since I was in my first school and dreamed of being kept in a cage at the front of the class. This opportunity has come my way and I have to follow the path to see where it leads. The stories on the BDSM sites tell of people being kept as slaves in squalor but here I am, a slave in luxury.

Evans is good at his job; he wouldn't be working for Mr. H if he wasn't and we slid to a stop outside Dr. Menzies consulting rooms just before nine-thirty.

"I'll pick you up at the office when I'm finished in town". He nodded in acknowledgement and pulled away into the traffic.

The doctors' receptionist was a motherly looking lady who was obviously expecting me.

"Good morning, the doctor will see you straight away". She came out from behind the antique table which served her as a desk and walked across the deep pile carpet to the door leading to the doctors' lair. She knocked gently and opened the door.

"The gentleman you are expecting, doctor", then pushed open the door for me to enter, closing it behind me.

Menzies seemed to be five or ten years older than the boss but where Mr. Hunter was tall and lean this man was short and fat, his hair only a grey fringe just over his ears. His face was quite red as if he had a liking for the bottle and a pair of half moon glasses perched on the end of his nose. As he looked at me his eyes had a cruel glint.

"So John Hunter got you, eh. He's been talking about taking you ever since you started to work for him; in fact you were specially picked for this purpose. Just so we understand each other, he and I go back for many years, in fact we were at school together. We share, shall we say, the same interests and I'm only doing what I'm doing today to oblige him as it would be difficult for him to arrange this kind of thing without him being recognised, which would cause some scandal no doubt. Now strip."

Fear coiled in the pit of my stomach as he said that but Mr. Hunter had told me to obey Menzies so I quickly slipped out of my clothes.

He looked me up and down.

"I will say you're not a bad looking specimen, John wanted the toned and lean type, it was just a matter of finding the right mind set in the right body. Now turn round and let me see how he dealt with you."

I felt my face redden with humiliation as I turned and let him see the results of my flogging. He gave a low whistle.

"Old John certainly gave it you didn't he? The way he's been mooning about you for the last couple of months I didn't think he'd have the heart to. I'm pleased to see that you got a real beating; I told him you would need it. Now turn round and face me." I did as he ordered.

"Now, you are here today because you disgraced yourself by allowing this thing" and he flicked the nails of his right hand backhand across my cock, "to experience an erection in the presence of your Master. We must do something about this. What do you suggest?" This isn't the sort of question I was expecting and I was somewhat lost for words.

"Well boy, if you have no ideas, perhaps I might suggest one?"

"Yes Sir" was all I could think of to say.

"How about we cut off the whole sorry lot, testicles and all, that should cure the problem?"

My blood ran cold, here I was, naked in a doctors' consulting rooms and he is talking of castrating me!! Surely he can't mean it. …. Can he? I look down at him. He looks back at me with that cold cruel gleam in his eyes.

He grabs my cock and balls in his left hand and drags them away from my body, then with his right forefinger pretends to use a knife to excise them.

"Well boy" he repeats, "how would you like that?" My mind is in turmoil, Mr. Hunter told me to obey this mans orders but surely he can't want me castrated here and now?

I gulp to swallow the lump that has formed in my throat.

"I don't think I would like that Sir".

"I don't think I would like that Sir" he mimics me.

"What a miserable little cock sucker you are, a man would be way down the street by now". He squeezes and pulls my balls viciously. I groan and my hands come down on top of his to stop the torment.

"Put your hands on your head".

I look down at him but his eyes have no mercy in them. Slowly I clasp my hands on top of my head.

"Keep them there".

He looks into my eyes and slowly increases the pressure on my testicles. I groan and my knees start to buckle. He begins to twist my scrotum. I bite my lip to keep from screaming at the awful grinding pain. He keeps me in agony for a few moments then lets go..

"Maybe John will be able to make something of you" he says contemptuously.

"Don't worry little man, I've been told to leave you intact, although what use that small thing is to you I do not know. If I had my way I'd have it all away ASAP." I thank my lucky stars that it won't be his wishes that govern my fate.

"John is too soft to do that, so I came up with a more….humane …..way round your problem."

"Stretch out that mini cock and balls of yours, boy". Very gingerly I do as he says, my balls still radiate pain. He opens a draw of his desk and takes something out.

"Now you just stay as you are, understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

He puts what seems to be a black strap round both my scrotum and cock, as near to the body wall as he can. He seems to feed the end of the strap into a bulge on its' length and then uses some form of tool in what seems to be a twisting motion. Gradually I feel the strap contract round my organs. He tightens it until it digs into my flesh then stops. He then slides another strap over my cock to its' base and tightens that and finishes by putting a third strap on my cock just below the glans. He looks at the straps for a few moments and then tightens them again. The flesh of my cock is bulging out between the two straps but there is no pain.

"As you can see, the object of this exercise is to restrict the flow of blood to your organs to prevent erection but not so far as to do damage. This is why I came to be involved in the charade. I will have to monitor this arrangement for a time to make sure the blood supply is sufficient. In case you were wondering, these are a new type of hose clip manufactured by one of the Korean companies. They are a plastic compound so you won't set off the bells and whistles at airports. They are also very strong, how you will get them off I don't know but that's not my problem."

The two straps round my cock seemed to constrict it an awful lot but were not painful, just exerting a pressure on it.

Menzies took a thermometer from a glass on the desk and, taking my cock in his left hand, used the right one to push the thermometer into the meatus until it was stopped by the constriction of the strap. He left it for a while then removed it and noted the temperature.

"Come over here." I followed him across the room, the strap round cock and balls had made them somehow fuller and rounder and I was conscious of them brushing against my thighs. He took me to a machine which he switched on and then took out what seemed to be two probes. I instinctively backed away, thinking he was going to use an electric current to cause me pain. He saw my movement and snorted derisively.

"I'm not going to hurt you, this machine listens to the blood flow in veins and arteries." He applied the probes to the glans of my cock, one on either side and there was a whoosh-whoosh sound from a loudspeaker. He then used the probes in various places round my scrotum and every time there was the same sound. He grunted, then led me back to the desk where he tightened all the straps a little.

"John wants me to do a medical on you while you're here so we'll get to it now." He did a very thorough examination of me, took bloods and I also had to give him a urine sample which came slowly because of the straps.

"I suppose I'd better check to see if he tore you last night." I reddened to think that all the details of my initiation had been given to this man.

"Bend over and spread 'em." I did so and felt the warmth from a light as he examined my anus.

"That's OK."

I straightened up and he used the thermometer and machine again to gauge the blood flow in my constricted organs, after which he again tightened the straps which were beginning to feel very restrictive. My balls seemed a darker colour than usual but I could only assume this man new what he was doing.

"I have patients to see, so go away and come back in one hour and I'll check the flow again."

I quickly dressed and left the premises. The day outside was fine and warm, the good weather had brought out many people, including a fair number of young girls, not a few of them wearing very short skirts. I looked at them with a twinge of regret at the path I was now following but the restriction I could feel brought home the fact that my very sexuality was now in the hands of someone else. One particularly good looking girl in a cafe gave me a smile and I was very, very tempted to drop my pants, just to see her reaction to the straps binding me. I didn't of course.

I was back in the waiting room fifty-five minutes after I had left it. Menzies shortly appeared, ushering an overweight woman in a flowery dress out of the consulting room. He saw me waiting and motioned for me to enter. When the door was shut he told me to drop my pants. As he pushed the thermometer into me I saw that the head of my cock seemed to be an angry purple colour, far deeper that its' usual pink. He noted the temperature and took me over to the machine for the sound readings. The whooshing noise seemed fainter to me. He ran his hand over his chin in a thoughtful manner then loosened the straps a little and repeated the sound test. The noise from the speaker seemed back to its' previous volume.

He looked at his watch.

"Right, I think we're just about there. It's now just on noon. I want you back here at two –thirty but there's something for you to do to fill in your lunch hour." He wrote something on a pad and handed me the sheet.

"Go to this address, give them your name and do exactly as they tell you."

"Is that all, can't you tell me anything more?"

"Just remember that in this situation you are a slave to all in authority over you, which would mean almost anyone. Now go."

I took a taxi to the address, which I knew was in Soho. The usual London lunch time smells of greasy hotdogs and onions flooded into the cab. I was dropped outside a door between two movie houses, both showing blue films. A sign over the door told me it was a 'Body modification salon" and the stairs that lead upwards were lined with pictures of tattooed people of both sexes. Oh, please no. Don't make him want to have me tattooed.

At the top of the stairs was a reception desk complete with a no longer young woman with scroll like tattoos over her face. She jerked her head back to show I had her full attention.

"What kin I do fer yer?"

I gave her my name and said I thought I was expected. She looked at me for a moment in total incomprehension and then the light dawned. She turned and shouted over her shoulder,

"'ere 'arry, there's the one that that weird doc phoned abart." My heart sank.

'arry appeared, a gross man wearing leather trousers and a leather waistcoat, open across a chest covered in tattoos. He had a bald head and a bushy beard and was eating a burger from a greasy piece of paper.

"So, you're 'im then. Get your gear off."

"Do you mean right here, in front of this lady?"

"That's no lady, that's my wife." And he doubled over laughing at the old joke.

I glanced back down the stairs. I could see the lower legs of the passers by and anyone looking into the door couldn't fail to see what was happening at the top.

"Can't I go inside please?"

"I was told to get you stripped 'ere and that if you didn't do what I tell yer I can punish yer."

Whatever slavery might entail, it was providing plenty of humiliation today. I took off my outer clothes and stood in my pants, trying to make a decision. If I faced the desk my strapped up organs would face 'arrys wife and my beaten arse would face down the stairs, or I could turn and have things the other way round. In the end I just went for it and dropped the pants. 'arrys wifes' eyes rounded like saucers.

"'ere 'arry, look at his wedding tackle, 'ees all trussed up like a bleedin' chicken".

She dashed round from behind the desk and grabbed my organs, lifting my cock so she could properly see the straps enclosing it.

"You can't be much good to anybody with that lot on sunshine. Bet you can't even get a hard on." I lowered my eyes. She was right of course.

"Leave the poor bleeder alone Nancy, 'ees spendin' money" said her husband.

You just leave yer gear wiv' 'er, it'll be OK, then come this way."

As I turned to follow 'arry, the inevitable happened and my arse faced the lovely Nancy. Once again the shrill voice screeched.

"'ere 'arry, look at 'is arse. It looks as somebodys' done 'im over good". She shot round in front of me.

"You some kind of bleedin' pervert are yer?" At that moment I wished I had never heard of Mr. Hunter, BDSM, slavery or anything that didn't tread the straight path. I muttered something at her and followed the gross form of her husband through the door.

I entered a small room lined with more pictures of the tattooed human form. At one end was a large chair that looked as if it had served many years in a dentists' surgery before falling on hard times.

'arry motioned for me to stand in the middle of the floor. He walked over to a table on which stood some instruments I preferred not to think about, and a small filing cabinet. He started to rummage through the cabinet.

"Where's that bleedin' piece of paper?" he asked himself. "I dunno. I'll lose me bleedin' 'ead next." With that he started to feel in the pockets of his greasy waistcoat and eventually produced an equally greasy piece of paper. He read the paper and then looked up at me.

"Do you know what they want done to you?"

"Is it…is it….. tattooing?"

"Naw mate, just a bit of piercing, sod all really." I breathed a sigh of relief, at least piercings weren't permanent, and then it occurred to me that I was glad to be 'only' pierced. Too many things were happening too quickly.

"Where are you going to do it?"

"Can't tell you that mate, it says 'ere", and he held up the paper, "you've just got take 'em as they come an' if you give me any grief I can 'chastise you as I deem fit'". He smiled at the choice of words.

"Right then, let's get on with it",

He walked over to what I hoped was a steriliser and took out some things like pliers, then opened a cupboard and took out a bottle and cotton wool. He came over and stood before me then rubbed alcohol on both my nipples. With dirty finger nails he pulled my left nipple away from my chest, put the 'pliers' against the base of it and grasped the handles. There was a sudden stabbing pain and I was left with a small plastic tube piercing my flesh. He then picked up a gold ring from the table and threaded it through the tube, then pushed the tube out of my flesh and finally off the ring, then using a magnifier, joined the two ends of the ring which seemed to give a small 'click' as they joined.

"Bleedin' good gear this mate, can't see the join".

He then proceeded to pierce my other nipple and then motioned me to the chair, which he reclined when I was seated.

He next sterilised my navel and pierced it but used two rings, one threaded on the other so that the loose one was lying against my body. I looked down my body and saw the two rings at my nipples and the ones in my navel and had difficulty in believing that this was happening to me. They did look good though, the shining gold against my brown skin!

"Kay, now we come to the 'ard bit. You got to 'ave two rings through that foreskin. Nah there's lots of veins and fings dahn there so if you don't want to risk me nicking one I strongly suggest you give me some 'elp".

This was becoming surreal. I was now being pierced at the orders of someone else and I was being asked to help in the job! My mind was numb.

"What do you want me to do?"

He moved a lamp and put in on a small table at the side of the chair.

"Stretch out your foreskin so the light shines through it, then I can see what I'm doing." For some reason I expected he wanted to pierce the top and bottom of the foreskin and held it accordingly.

"Nah, mate, the sides". I put my thumbs inside the foreskin, my first fingers on the outside and pulled it up and away from my cock.

"Great, won't be a tick." With that there was again the stabbing pain in the right side of my foreskin but this time it was different, if I hadn't been strapped I would have had an erection.

"Nah the other side". He shifted the lamp round the chair and again I held my flesh for the piercing gun. This time he took longer finding a suitable place and I was starting to sweat with anticipation when once more there was the biting pain of the needle going though my body.

"Just one more" and I felt alcohol on my scrotum, then quickly his fingers picked up a fold of skin in the centre of my sac, I felt the jaws of the gun hold it and for the last time the stab of the needle.

"All done. Want to have a look in the mirror over there?"

I staggered from the chair to the mirror and stared at my reflection, The rings gleamed softly against my skin, the ones in the end of my cock contrasting with the black of the straps. They looked so sensual. I could feel the straps seem to tighten as my body tried to erect but there was not enough blood flow to allow it. I remained flaccid. I had hoped that Menzies might be wrong and that I could become hard but then I realised that it was only fitting that this function of my body should be subject to Mr. Hs' control. I lifted my cock and saw the final ring standing out from my scrotum, a last confirmation of my slavery.

"Just another couple of things and you're on yer bike". I turned to him, wondering what was to happen next. To my surprise he produced a tape measure from his pocket and measured the distance between my nipples, then the distance downwards from a point between them to another point on my belly and noted them down. He then gave me a sheet of paper with details of how to look after the piercings until they healed properly.

"You're due back at the docs' at half-two?" I confirmed I was. "Should be enough time".

"Sorry I don't understand, time for what?"

"None of your business, now go out the front and get dressed then piss off."

"Do I need to pay you?"

"No it's sorted." He looked at me with seemed to be sadness.

"Pity a young well set up fella like you gets into this sort of thing, now sod off."

I collected my clothes from the lovely Nancy and donned them before anyone looked up the stairs but not before she had insisted on examining all her husbands work.

There was now about an hour to go before my next appointment with the doctor so I grabbed a sandwich before getting a cab back to his place.

I was in the waiting room again at one twenty-five. The motherly receptionist told me the doctor would be back soon and quite shortly he came in the front door and with a nod of his head indicated I should enter the consulting room.

I quite expected his first word when the door was closed.

"Strip", I'd lost count of the number of times I'd been in and out of my clothes today.

When I was naked he again did his blood flow tests.

"Well that's fine; we can consider this a good job well done. Just one more thing."

With that he reached into the top draw of the desk and took out the three tools he had used to tighten the straps. He inserted the first one into the strap round my cock and balls and then quickly snapped off the end of it in the tightening device, then did the same with the other two straps. He looked up at me with a twisted grin.

"That, boy, is an anti-tamper device. Remember I said this morning I didn't know how you would get them off? Well now there's no way except cutting them off and as of yesterday the factory haven't been able to move them." My heart hit my boots. I'd thought that these straps would be only there for a short time and that the boss would take them off, maybe when he felt I'd learned my lesson. I'd never anticipated they would be there…..for ever?

Again he looked at me with that sly cruel smile and picked up his phone. When he got a reply the conversation was a short one.

"You free?" A squawk from the handset.

"Can you come over right away?" Squawk.

"Use the side entrance." Squawk. With that he broke the connection.

He walked over to me.

"Let's take a look at these piercings." With that he reached out to the ring in my left nipple, pulled it gently, and then rotated it through my flesh. When he finished that one he did the other nipple and the ring in my navel, then sat down in his chair.

"Come here and let me see the others."

I stood in front of him.

"Now hold up that wee thing so I can see the ones in the end." I held my bound member in my right hand and he repeated the performance.

"Now up against your belly." I held my cock flat to my stomach while Menzies examined the ring in my scrotum.

"OK, that's all. You can put it down now. That man and his wife are awful people but he does know his job when it comes to piercing."

Just then a buzzer sounded, low and discreet. He looked at his watch.

"That was quick." He looked up at me.

"You stay just as you are." He got up and walked across to a door behind me. I heard him open it, then the sound of his steps before the opening of another door. There was some muffled conversation I couldn't catch but what sounded to be a womans' voice, before more footsteps and the closing of the door to the room. I felt drained and dejected. Yet another person to see me naked, to make fun of my straps and piercings. Was this day never going to stop humiliating me?

"Well, well, what have we here?"

A womans' voice, pleasant, low. Smell of perfume.

"It's not good manners to keep your back to our guest, turn and greet her."

His voice was sarcastic. It would do no good to tell him that it was he who told me to stay as I was. As I turned my hands went protectively and instinctively to cover my groin.

"Hands by your sides, damn you."

As I removed my hands the second pair of female eyes this day widened as she saw my bound state and took in the rings in my body. In my turn I looked at her, maybe thirty years old, pleasant square face, dark curly hair, good figure.

"Show our guest the other ring." I looked at Menzies but it was obvious I would have to do as he said. Feeling desperately ashamed I again meekly lifted my cock against my belly to reveal the last ring.

"I guess that answers my original question" she said, then turned to the doctor.

"I knew you were into BDSM but I never knew you were into boys."

"I'm not; I'm just making sure the strapping round what he would call a cock won't castrate him. He actually belongs to an old chum of mine."

"Was it you that beat him?"

"No, that was his owner. I would never have believed the man had it in him to do it. It just goes to show what people will do when their passions are roused."

"Tell me about it!"

"You can put that thing down now." While they had been discussing me I had dutifully kept my cock against my belly.

"So what can I do for you?" the woman asked Menzies.

"I know that this strapping will stop his little penis from erecting but I suddenly wondered if he could still ejaculate."

"And you want me to find out?" she looked up at him. "You can really be very sick sometimes."

"Not at all. You have the best oral technique in the city and I thought you might regard it as a bit of a challenge to see if you can get him to produce despite all that strapping."

"You're all heart" she replied sarcastically. She looked up at me in a calculating way, "might be a bit of a giggle though".

During their conversation my mind started to race. If I did cum what would happen. Would the strapping mean that some of the semen vessels would be damaged? Could my balls actually explode?

"No, please don't do this." They both turned to me. "I might be hurt because of the strapping and then the pressure as my balls contract might damage something else."

I was gibbering because of my fright.

"Nobody asked your opinion and in my medical opinion I don't think anything will go wrong. That's assuming you even manage to ejaculate."

"Please, you don't know. " I clutched at a straw. "If you damage me my owner won't be happy". I didn't want to use his name in front of this woman. My mind was producing horrid pictures of me clutching a bloody mass that been my scrotum. I would try anything to stop this going ahead.

"You will do as you are told or I shall tell your owner how useless you are and recommend he has you ……removed."

Would Mr. Hunter do this on this on this mans say so.? Menzies did say they went back a long way together. I looked at Menzies, his eyes were hard. I dropped mine in surrender.

"Sit in the chair." I did as I was ordered, trembling with fear.

"Sheila, it's all up to you now. Your professional reputation is at stake."

She came and knelt in front of me, then gently used her hands on the inside of my knees to spread my thighs. She shuffled up between them and looked up at me.

"Cheer up, men pay masses of money for what you're going to get for free."

"I wasn't reassured by her words but the proximity of her mouth and my cock was starting to have an effect on me. The strapping round my body tightened. She reached up and pushed back my foreskin but because of the binding she could only get it back just over the glans. She took it into her mouth, the hot wetness of it brought a groan from my lips. She started to suck on it, to move her mouth as far as she could and to use her tongue to lave the glans. The strapping on my body tightened still more as my body tried to pump blood into my cock but to no avail. I remained flaccid. Her fingers played lightly along my shaft and over my balls. I didn't know whether to be glad or sorry at the efficacy of the straps. The feel of her mouth and the touch of her fingers were very pleasant but nothing else was happening!

After a few minutes she looked up at the doctor and let my cock fall from her mouth.

"This isn't getting anywhere, you can see he's as limp as an old rag and I'm getting an ache in my jaw."

"Keep going for a little longer, I'll make it worth your while".

She took me in her mouth again and recommenced her ministrations. I suddenly became aware that they were having an effect! My hips came off the chair as instinct tried to push my floppy member into her mouth. I felt as if I were arguing with myself.

'You can't cum, you'll hurt yourself.' 'I need to I can't stop it.' I was terrified of what might happen if I came but the lust was boiling in me. I gripped the arms of the chair to try to prevent myself from doing what I wanted to do more than anything in the world. Sheila sensed I was near and re-doubled her efforts. No, no ,no, I can't do this, I dare not. Then a half cry, half groan was wrenched from my lips, part fear of coming pain, part relief as my balls contracted and my semen was ejected from them. I went rigid, waiting for the pain as vessels burst under the strain but all that happened was blessed relief as my semen left my cock and entered Sheilas' working mouth. For a few seconds I could not believe that what I had so feared had not happened and that I was still intact and then I slumped in the seat, worn out by fear and lust.

The woman took her mouth from me and swallowed.

"Well that proves he can still do it."

"Very exciting." Said Menzies sarcastically. "Would you say there was the volume you would expect?"

"He might have been a bit down perhaps but nothing out of the ordinary. And you are going to owe me big time for this. My jaw feels as if it's dislocated."

She stood up, winked at me and blew me a kiss. Menzies opened a desk draw and withdrew an envelope, took out what seemed to me a large sum of money and gave it to her. She quickly riffled through it and gave a low whistle.

"Anytime I can be of service!" She walked to the door and the doctor followed, showing her off the premises I expected. I stayed slumped in the seat. I felt like hell. These two had just manipulated me as part of an experiment. I didn't really exist for them except as a dick and a pair of balls to be used to find the answer to a question.

He came back into the room and shut the door.

"Get out of that bloody chair!"

I wearily scrambled to my feet. He sat down.

"As you no doubt heard me say to the young lady, I am not 'into' boys. I have just spent a good sum of money on you though, and I think I should like a return on it."

I looked at him; my fuddled brain didn't make any connections.

He rose, quickly pushed his trousers and pants to his ankles and sat down. He had a huge erection.

"Now do something about that." I thought of all the things I would like to do with it, top of my list was excision using a rusty hacksaw blade but I knew such thoughts would do me no good. He held all the cards, I was nothing. This was not so much about his pleasure as my degradation.

I knelt between his legs and took his tool in my right hand, steadying it as I brought my mouth down to engulf it. It smelled of stale urine and tasted vile. I had to stifle a reflex to gag. I knew that for my own good I must get this over as soon as possible. I formed my lips into a tight 'O' and worked them quickly up and down his shaft, at the same time licking the head with my tongue and using my hand up and down his length. He came quickly, grunting like a pig as he filled my mouth with his seed. I made myself hold him in my mouth until he was totally spent and I had swallowed all, then removed my mouth and gently lowered his shrinking weapon. I kept my eyes fixed on the head of his cock, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"That was the worst fucking blow job I've had in my life. Why John Hunter wants you I'm buggered if I know but you can fuck off back to him as soon as you like."

As quickly as I could I gathered my things and dressed and, still not meeting his eyes, let myself out into the waiting room.

The motherly lady smiled at me, what would she think of the events that had taken place just a few yards from her?

"There's been a package delivered here for Mr. Hunter, to be taken by your hand. Here it is."

She held out a small parcel.

"Thank you, I'll make sure he gets it."

And I walked out into the bright day.