Second snippet from 'A Summer at the Phipps Estate'

As a reminder, I do not normally offer stories in paperback. Over the years I have found that the time and effort are not justified... probably 1% of sales are in paperback for those stories which I offered in both formats.

That being said, if anyone has a particular interest in paperback, let me know and I will so format and offer.  

*****

Redmond - The Masturbation Nurse

In comes a woman of maturity, her appearance that of a great aunt, gray hair, fully sized though not obese, smiling jovially. She carries a tray, setting it down on a small table.

“I’m the masturbation nurse, Mr. Richards... Redmond. I extract sperm samples.”

Clinically attired in the crisp white uniform of the clinic staff, covering at the waist and rising to just below prominent breasts is an apron of matching white rubber. It is smooth and shiny, gleaming in the room light.

“I’ll want you nice and hard for me. And I see you’re already offering a woman a proper greeting.”

I am. For some reason I am shamefully stiffening. Just being in the presence of a fully clothed woman of authority has come to excite.

Damn this chastity! Damn this conditioning! 

She circles her finger in the air, silently instructing me to turn. When I do, she unclips the double ‘D’ clamp holding together my elbows.

“We find that the reverse prayer best satisfies a boy’s need for restrictive bondage. A little uncomfortable at first. But you’ll become accustomed to it... and enjoy the sense of helplessness and humility.”

She draws back my forearms. I cede, letting her position my hands to my back, elbows folding as she lifts, taking a hold of my thumb rings and directing to the back of my head. There such are attached to my neck collar. And when the double ‘D’ clamp is returned to tightly bring together my elbow bands, I find the woman is correct. The so termed reverse prayer is quite restrictive... and much more than a little uncomfortable... ligaments strained... my chest thrust forward.  

“Enhances your sense of submission to me... does it not Redmond?” hands pressing to my hips to turn me toward her.

I must agree, humbly nodding.  

“Now, you’re going to ejaculate for me. In reading your file, I think you’ll enjoy that... so much in need. But you will only discharge at my command... as you have been trained,” fingers toying with my nipples to demonstrate my complete vulnerability.

Gag in place, I nod... vigorously. With the dogma of retain or pain drilled into my psyche, to end many weeks of denial is certainly welcomed. But for being ridden by Miss Taylor... Cowgirl... reverse Cowgirl... my penis has been untouched other than for the placement and removal of my cock cage.

I so much need relief!

“I have a very special and intimate manner of bringing a boy off. You be a good boy for me and I’ll treat you. Be obedient for me.”

With that, the masturbation nurse hikes up her skirt exposing the smooth warmth of voluptuous thighs... sizable but shapely. She then sits on a high backed wooden chair and reaches to the tray. Opening a tube of unguent, she generously lubricates her hands then beckons.

“Come. Straddle my legs, sit on my lap facing me. I always like to look into a boy’s eyes as I work him. Your face will tell me where you’re at. Lets me read a boy’s thoughts.”

I comply, my eagerness not to be disguised. And as expected, in lowering myself, the warmth of her bare flesh is so welcomed. Also welcomed, just as the young nurse so brazenly palmed my scrotal sac, the left hand of the masturbation nurse grasps my testicles, squeezing firmly... not only guiding me downward but sending a message of feminine control... that her hand can offer subtle pleasure... or agonizing pressure.

“Good boy,” her condescending comment coming as her right hand slips under her left, the gooey fingers working about my gluteal cleft, finding then lubricating my anus.

“You’ve been cleansed daily. A nice long and high enema administered by your nurse. A stout enema nozzle according to your file. So I know you’ve been nicely opened here,” the observation coming as I moan into my gag, one finger then two pressing inward with embarrassing ease.

Yes, I have been opened... there.

“So we’ll find your little gland... no doubt swollen and in need of attention. And I’ll amuse myself in fondling your balls... while you do what you’d like to do. What you so much need to do.”

With that, both hands pull, forcing me to slide a little further forward on her lap, the intimacy progressing as my penis... now rock hard and pointing to the ceiling... presses against the smoothness of the white rubber apron.

I moan again, now with the pleasure of frottaging the hyper sensitive, long neglected underside of my penis tip against the cool smooth apron which rapidly warms... my body heat as well as hers.

“So show me what naughty boys do. Don’t be too shamed. I’ve masturbated hundreds over my many years. And this is how subordinate boys most like it.”

The words are most apropos... for it is indeed shameful, sitting on the lap of a woman older than my mother, absorbing the warmth of her skin, feeling the controlling grip of one hand, sensing the fingers of the other deep within.

She is expert, kneading my prostate, gleefully squeezing my manly plums. But the most needed touch... is denied. No direct stimulation. It becomes apparent that the ultimate pleasure of penile manipulation is mine to initiate... that I must work myself... it is not to be given.      

“Come now, Redmond. You know you want this... to hump your nurse’s apron. You have my permission. And yes it is humiliating for you. But that is how you most enjoy it... performing... showing off... displaying your subservience... reveling in your subjugation.”

Such curt words... yet so appropriate. For I do need to extend the joy... the pleasure. I thus thrust forth, pressing my penis into her apron.

And it feels so good... so smooth... the warmth seeming to glow.

“Yes, wriggle about... a little to the right... a little to the left... up... down... back... then forth... come... jerk yourself off for me.”

I so move about, cursing myself, for my abeyance... for my need to do exactly as she suggests.

She has masturbated many... that is assured... for I simulate copulation... fucking and fucking against a garment of latex... rhythmically pressing into her... into the hygienic purity of her rubber apron.

“Oh your are such a good boy! You’re getting very close, aren’t you Redmond? Very near ejaculating for me. You want to soil your nurse’s apron. You just need my permission. To discharge upon a woman’s command. That’s what boys like you do... so much enjoy... to perform under direction... like a trained circus beast.”

I nod, my fucking motion fervent. I sense pending explosion. And she senses it too... her gripping hand encouraging motion, the penetrating fingers wriggling about but also assessing.

Yet... the retention... the dogma... night after night in suspension bondage... retain or pain... I cannot come... not without the directing words of a woman.

Finally she speaks.

“Come for me, Redmond. Become my fountain. Spurt! Rid yourself of all that nasty male effluent. Go ahead... pull on those little muscles. I want to feel you come for me.”

One final thrust. I indeed pull. Yet nothing happens. I thrust again. Nothing. The masturbation nurse senses my attempts... then she begins to cackle.

“So long locked in chastity... so long denied. Yet when I tell you to come for me... you can’t. What’s happening Redmond?”

I thrust again and again. It’s the sneeze that just won’t come... so close... yet so distant.

I continue wriggling about. With a wry smile the hands withdraw.

“Enough Redmond. You’ll wear yourself out. Dr. Gehorchen will be pleased to learn her injections worked. She rarely misses. And the clinic psychiatrist will counsel you.”

The hands push me away. The futility of my efforts ends as I rise from the lap of the knowing masturbation nurse. She remains seated, the index finger of her right hand extending, pressing  the tip of my rock hard erection and slowly pushing downward.  

“There may be a time when I will have you truly discharge for me. You’d like to perform for me, I know. As do all the little boys here at the clinic. But this has merely been an experiment... a bit of a ruse to assure the injections properly manifested.”

The finger withdraws and my penis comically snaps upwards, smacking just below my navel.

“Go to the corner of the room, face the wall. A nurse will come in and guide you to Dr. Rosen.”

I so move, my mind addled, compliance to feminine authority long instilled, the masturbation nurse departing, leaving me in disconcertion.

What is happening? I wanted to come... I was told to come... and I couldn’t!