Chapter Eleven - Whisked to Chessu

Chapter Eleven

Stirring from a nap, Jay Blaine hears the ratchet wheel. Somehow he sleeps in the awkward position, calves and ankles restrained well over head, scrotum constantly tensioned and pulled towards the foot of the hospital bed. But really his slumber is comprised of a series of brief naps, the ratchet wheel always to be turned to awaken, his scrotum always to feel stress.

But with these turns the tension slackens!

“Yes, such a nice long scrotum. You’re going to be quite the proud beast, Mr. Blaine.”

It is the voice of Dr. Saunders. Her fingers work about the hood, a nurse evidently turning the wheel.

“Now close your eyes. It will take some time to acclimate to the light. We have the blinds closed and the room light off.”

Jay Blaine is overjoyed in feeling the tender fingers of the nurse continue her ministrations, completely freeing his scrotum of its bindings. And Dr. Saunders works as well, the hood, seeming so ubiquitous over the many days, rolled completely off. He must close his eyes with the stab of light, clenching without the slightest glimpse of his surroundings.

The ankle restraints are next, the nurse gently lowering his legs to the mattress.

“Now lie still while I align the brank. Open your mouth for me. Thrust your tongue.”

Jay Blaine feels fidgeting about the grommet on his left cheek. Something is inserted. A hand grasps his chin and maneuvers his head, his tongue thrusts forth as demanded. He feels something slip into his mouth, well back, through the new opening in his cheek. There is more fidgeting and whatever has been introduced finds the opening in his tongue! Jay Blaine can feel it slowly slip through! Then, incredibly, what penetrates left grommet and tongue, exits the right grommet!

“Yes, not bad alignment. You and your handler will work together... and she’ll have you branked in seconds once the alignment is practiced a few times.”

The doctor’s hand moves. Jay Blaine grimaces in pain and finds he must instantly move his head in response. Something penetrates his mouth and tongue... and extends well outside his face to the right and left.

The wrist cuffs are released as Jay Blaine feels oscillations on that which penetrates his head.

“A leash. Just a length of rope. Nothing fancy. Your end terminates in a ‘Y’. One leg of the ‘Y’ to connect to the right side of the brank, the other to the left.”

Jay Blaine, eyes remaining clenched, feels the rope being connected, the slightest tremor of the brank felt inside his head.

“Come, stand for me. Slowly, be careful.”

Yes the muscles are shaky, Jay Blaine permitted almost no exercise since being packed away in a shipping container. But he manages to slide off the bed and as his legs acclimate, he feels Dr. Saunders gather a tuft of skin at the small of his back. There follows the familiar click, and the last grommet instantly penetrates.

“Done, ready for your waist band. And there we have it...a leashed beast ready to respond to the slightest tug of a woman’s hand.”

Dr. Saunders’ attention returns to the leash and demonstrates, slowly moving her leash hand right then left. Jay Blaine whimpers with the stab of pain, mandating that his head instantly follow.

“So Mr. Blaine, you asked me... why? Well what headier feeling for a woman of my ilk than to have boys like you leashed. And have you noticed your own reaction? You’re stiffening for me.”

With all the sensual input, Jay Blaine has not processed the reaction of that part of his anatomy. He cannot see, but his hand slowly moves to that which he has not touched in many days, his male organ strictly under the province of women.

“Careful, Mr. Blaine. You’ve been altered. Nurse Wendy has been working there.”

He touches. And he cries out in agony... learning two things. He is indeed engorged, Dr. Saunders’ controlling hand bringing forth odd arousal. And the lightest touch causes his once proud manhood to burn as if set afire.

“Your acid baths. That and my degloving has changed the level of sensitivity. Hence it will always feel like its been sun burned... essentially a deep first degree burn. Nurse Wendy tends to all the fully functioning penises in Chessu every week. Many feet of phallus, much muriatic acid.

“No, you’ll not be stroking yourself in Chessu. Even given the opportunity, which will rarely come, you’ll just hurt yourself. Before you leave I will offer some relief by piercing your penis and inserting a Prince Albert ring. That way your phallus can be maneuvered about without touching the ultra sensitive skin.

“But open your eyes. It’s time.”

Sighted for the first time, Jay Blaine relaxes, the limited illumination of the darkened room acceptable, the late afternoon sun bringing a glow to the window shade. His eyes open. He blinks. Extending straight before him is a rope. Peripherally he notes it splits, the two ends tied right and left to his brank. He notes it is really nothing more than a slim length of stainless steel, probably the diameter of a wire coathanger.

Strangely, he marvels, a woman can control his every move with something so simple... yet something which penetrates his head.

But then his eyes further adjust and his attention shifts to she who so imperiously, but pleasantly, holds the leash.

Dr. Mary Saunders is of the age expected.... mid forties. But not expected is the handsomeness of such a knowledgeable and authoritative woman. She smiles... not that of a beauty queen, but one of calm confidence. She wears a white smock, medical devices fill a breast pocket, a stethoscope drapes about the neck. Dark hair is bunched and unceremoniously propped atop her head, functionally styled. Dark eyes, but filled with mirth. It is evident, in holding the leash, that she very much enjoys the fruits of her alterations.

Dr. Saunders steps more proximate, dips at the knees and lowers her free left hand.

“Recognize these?’ she quips, palming what the young nurses have so meticulously worked to stretch over the many, many days.

Her cupped hand rises, presenting to the bearer his own balls. And Jay Blaine finds the question to be apropos. The viscous ‘stretching cream’, the constant tension, the attentive nurses, all have worked to enlarge the scrotal sac such that the testicles of Jay Blaine most prodigiously hang below mid thigh.

“You’ll now take to the sling quite easily, Mr. Blaine. Some nice steel bands and you’re ready for Chessu. Come.”

The hand releases his balls and such swing heavily between his thighs as Dr. Saunders turns.

Jay Blaine feels instant admiration... affection?.. as the woman who masterminded his alteration turns and gently pulls on his leash. The pain cannot be described, and Jay Blaine has no time to think... only to react... obediently stepping forth to follow and bring slack to the leash.

Yes, he comes indeed.