The Anguished E, Chapter Five

Copyright 2002

by Chris Bellows

Part One

Tony’s Story

Chapter Five

The clock indicated I could make one more pass through the office before patients arrived. I loaded onto the tray juice for Nurse Annika and coffee for the Doctor along with a selection of fruit which I had spent over an hour cutting and peeling. I rushed to the office, perhaps too quickly.

I spilled juice on Dr. Stella’s desk.

She ignored both me and the faux pas and simply called out for Annika who immediately joined us in her office.

“Tony’s very fidgety. Have we drained him recently?”

The Doctor referred to my prostate massage when the weekly collection of fluid was slowly forced from male glands. It was the closest I came to being granted ecstatic relief.

Nurse Annika looked at the spilled juice with exaggerated agitation.

“He is due, Doctor. But there’s no time today. We have a full calendar.”

“Brandy’s gone for the day. Plug him, but take the necessary precautions against masturbation.”

With the Doctor’s order, the nurse directed me to an examination room.

I knew the required position. Feet in the stirrups.

I was plugged as directed and the nurse attached a hose to the intruding implement and gruffly pumped the expandable cone of rubber with air. My manhood began to tumefy immediately and the pain quickly became intolerable.

“Calm down, I’ll get to it, she gently suggested. “On your feet.”

I obeyed, and for the first time in the years I had visited Dr. Stella’s home and office, fur lined wrist cuffs appeared from a bottom cabinet drawer.

“You can watch television or sit about the pool, but no swimming. We won’t have time for you until much later.”

The soft leather was buckled around my wrists then clipped together behind my back. When done I was dancing in agony, the pressured prostate gland signaling the soft pink glans to escape its entrapment. The thin wire mandating otherwise.

Finally, Nurse Annika cut the wire and watched with amusement as my 8 plus inches sprang forth like a rapidly growing weed.

“I think you’ve grown more, Tony.”

As usual I was sent running from the room with a slap to my hairless buttocks. I moved quickly to the seclusion of the pool area. There I looked down to see myself erect with the long neglected penis tip standing straight up towards the sky.

Prostatic fluid streamed down my shaft. I struggled to free my wrists to stroke myself. The cuffs held firmly.

I could do nothing but sit and look at my erection. But was it really mine? I had not stroked it in years, and even while urinating I was careful not to excite it. When and if it ever stood was not my decision, it was that of Dr. Stella and Nurse Annika.

I found a comfortable position lying on my side on a lounge chair. I could do nothing but patiently idle away the time, becoming even darker under the more direct rays of the summer sun.

I realized that the two women probably preferred that I walk about erect. The condition so nicely, symbolized their absolute power. The ultimate control of the virile male..., having him naked, bound and erect, languishing under the sun and preventing him doing anything more than watching his essence slowly ooze from him..., forever denied the climactic relief of fornicating the ‘fragile’ female.

Brandy’s status as the pure, idolized maiden was not a frivolous matter in Dr. Stella’s household. She would never be in the presence of a potent male with penis free to make mischief. That was not permitted. Thus, I concluded it was only Brandy’s absence that enabled Dr. Stella to order the unusual method for slowly emptying my glands.

After two hours Nurse Annika came to check on me. The flow of fluid had slowed somewhat. But in her hands was the small bulb and connecting tubing which she used to expand the plug.

“Stand and bend for me.”

The tube fitted into the exposed valve of the inflatable plug. With three brisk squeezes, the pressure on my prostate grew. Nurse Annika expertly massaged my perineum. The flow resumed.

“If you walk about you’ll find the plug will better caress your gland and empty it faster. Too bad we can’t let Brandy see that. She would be most entertained.”

The chortling nurse disappeared leaving me to my thoughts.

Even more then wanting to stroke myself, I realized I wanted to taste Brandy.

As long as the typical day seemed with Brandy tormenting me, it was even longer without her.

I finally slept and fantasized being led about by Brandy, naked, bound and plugged with a leash tied about my scrotum. In the dream Pat the driver took us to a party where an alluring Brandy introduced me to her beautiful colleagues in the fashion business.

“Wish I had one like that,” was the typical comment. And my infibulated penis received much attention, it’s strained efforts to break away from the painful wire bringing laughter.

When I awoke, I found that my penis had drooled all over the lounge chair. I had no way of cleaning it with hands secured. I just had to watch as the sun dried the fluid and turned it to a stain that reflected in the light.

It was late afternoon when I heard a car in the driveway. I knew it was Brandy returning. For sure enough, Nurse Annika quickly exited the kitchen door. In her hands were a new infibulation wire, metal disk and the device used to seal it closed.

With the customary painful swat to my penis tip, I rapidly detumefied, as Brandy stepped out wearing the briefest bikini I had seen to date. With her was Pat also scantily clad and revealing the sculpted form of a body builder. Nurse Annika finished entombing my glans as the girls approached.

“It’s safely tucked away, girls. Do remove the cuffs before allowing him to swim, Brandy.”

The nurse left. I once again felt like a fly in a spider’s web.

“So you keep him out here in the sun. Turns him a nice brown,” commented Pat.

“Yes, when I look at him I think of the Egyptian slaves from a Cleopatra movie. Think his Dad was from Arabia or somewhere like that,” Brandy incorrectly explained.

Pat arranged a chair, evidently planning to sun herself. Brandy gracefully dove into pool. As usual my eyes followed her every move. The bikini bottom was no more than a thong, leaving her buttocks completely exposed. The patch over her pudendum was close to the size of a postage stamp. When she exited the water, I am sure her outer labia partially flashed, her well shaven pubes making it difficult to determine the separation between normal epidermis and that which I so fervently serviced with my tongue.

This was as close to complete nakedness as I had ever seen the magnificent Brandy. As she practiced dives and Pat soaked up the sun, the girls talked. I learned the bathing suit was something she was given after she modeled it. Over the years Dr. Stella purchased much more conservative bathing attire only allowing more risque designs in Brandy’s late teens. Therefore Brandy’s acquisition of the revealing attire was fortuitous

Pat’s bathing suit was also abbreviated, plainly exposing a muscling rarely seen on a woman. Still she was most attractive and as I glanced from girl to girl I became aroused. This of course meant that the sensitive pink tip which Nurse Annika had just tucked away began to pressure the wire which was most tightly twisted about my prepuce.

I began to fidget. My cuffed wrists made it difficult to stand but I managed and Pat noticed some degree of turgidness.

“Want some cold water, Tony?” she tauntingly inquired.

“He usually calms himself eventually, Pat. The pain slowly increases and overrides the level of arousal. Guess he likes my bathing suit.”

How true.

“I’ll get something that will help. Just can’t let Mom see it.”

Brandy walked to the pump area where an unnoticed box contained her implements of recreation..., the silk scarf, rubber tubing and latex gloves. A curious Pat followed her and I could hear voices and laughter.

Brandy returned with the scarf. But Pat held the tubing and the gloves with the same mischievous smile she wore when she inspected my penis over morning coffee.

The girls giggled as Brandy wrapped the scarf over my eyes. It still smelled of her essence, having soaked up the efforts of my tongue and lips during dozens of leisurely afternoons by the pool. I am sure that the devilish Pat recognized the scent also.

Standing blindfolded with cuffs still restraining my wrists, I next felt fingers working about my scrotum. Their firmness told me it was Pat. After encircling the sac with the tubing she tightened with a force I had not before felt. I winced and after an amazing strong tug winced again.

“A naked boy on a leash. I think I’m getting wet,” Pat proclaimed.

Meanwhile I followed the tugs. Brandy had never cinched the tubing as did Pat. I received the message. This was a young woman with whom I was not to trifle.

She walked me. For some reason I could not keep my penis from attempting to erect. Her controlling hand aroused me and when she shook the leash and laughed, my penis tried even harder to stand for her.

I felt my pulse increase and my heart pound. I so much wanted to look at Brandy and if not looking then lying beneath her and feeling with my tongue and lips the vacillations of orgasm. Instead the amused driver with arms and hands of steel humiliated me before the girl with whom I was so besotted.

In a way I was glad to be blindfolded. Tears formed and were readily soaked up by the silk. I was having an hysterical reaction. I believe my hormone levels were incredibly askew.