Continuing Day One
“What are you going to do to me?” Robert finds his words to be shamefully humble.
“In general, anything the Queen wants,” the palming hand closing to gently grasp the long and firming length of male flesh.
The fingers of the hand begins to gyrate and ripple, the touch sensuous but mechanical. The woman knows the male anatomy, both clinically and sexually.
“I... I... I’m going to...”
“Embarrass yourself. Yes, you’re going to achieve an erection for me. And yes, it’s embarrassing. But in a way you will acclimate to this. Then again, in a way you never will,” the woman’s unwavering eyes glued to his.
There comes a steady rhythm, the doctor handling the stiffening appendage as a maestro with a favored musical instrument. With the continuing eye contact, Robert Probert’s look softens, mentally yielding to the woman’s touch, noting her even features. Given makeup, modest jewelry, she would be ravishing. Within moments he finds himself looking down in shame, mental capitulation complete. He cedes. Because he has no choice? He berates himself in finding unwanted enjoyment.
Semi engorged, Dr. Humbert finally glances down to assess. She smiles, her deft hand action changing to delicate strokes. Thoughts running wild, Robert cannot help thinking how purposeful are the woman’s actions. Then the free hand reaches forth, palming his scrotum, fingers slipping beneath to the perineum, there demonstrating more expertise in massaging to enhance the flow of circulation to his pubes.
“Nice and firm for me, Mr. Probert. Good boy. The erectile chambers are flooding nicely.”
With that, the woman steps back, leaving the erection to comically bob about. More humiliation as she goes to a cabinet of white metal, Robert Probert looking about. The room is sizable but austere. White ceiling, white floor and white walls. It is a medical facility, supplies and various apparatuses those of a hospital or doctor’s office.
“Do not ejaculate. I’ll need some measurements. Keep yourself nice and stiff.”
With that, the woman begins an assessment, utilizing a tape measure... length, girth at various points along the swollen shaft... jotting on a clipboard.
Robert blushes, sensing his heart pound. The doctor notes.
“Yes, keep your circulation strong... you’ll stay nice and hard for me,” measuring the testicles.
She encircles with the tap measure then gently squeezes each plum, nodding in satisfaction.
“Nice and firm,” giving a slight tug on the scrotal sac. “Your penis is of size, the body scan at the airport never lies. But you’ll probably need some modification here,” giving a firmer tug, “for her majesty. She’ll make the decision of course.”
“You can’t do this... do that!”
The doctor releases her hands, stepping back, letting her charge broil in continuing embarrassment.
“You’re the Queen’s mateka,” the doctor finally advises. “In English that means captive. But don’t be too distraught. You’ll have the best of care... nutritious food... exercise... special exercise... and the opportunity to perform and please her majesty.”
“This can’t happen. You know why I’m here. Oil... lots of oil. For the Queen... for her subjects... for Zolanda. I’ll please the Queen with money... oil money. And Benchmark Oil won’t put up with this.”
“You aren’t going anywhere and the oil isn’t going anywhere. And Benchmark Oil is aware of your circumstances.”
“They won’t tolerate this!”
“How many petroleum engineers does Benchmark Oil employ?”
“I don’t know precisely.”
“Twenty-seven,” Dr. Humbert answers her own question with a smirk. “You’re easily replaced. In fact I am told another engineer is in transit.”
“It’s kidnaping!”
“More like an exchange. Your performance for the opportunity for Benchmark to complete the find and begin drilling.”
“Perform? I’m not some entertainer. I don’t perform!”
“You’re performing now,” Dr. Humbert smiling in nodding to the mammoth unwavering erection. “And over the next few weeks you will be conditioned to perform at the snap of a woman’s fingers... mine, your disciplinarian’s, your physical therapist and of course... the Queen’s.”
There comes silent thought, Robert Probert finding no further words. Would his employer agree to this so termed ‘exchange’? He asks himself. Then comes to mind the billions, the geological surveys suggesting not only one of the biggest fossil fuel deposits in decades, but readily accessible. The answer brings distress. Of course the greedy execs would so concur.
And his mind works forward... his disciplinarian? His physical therapist? Penis to harden at the snap of their fingers?
“I’ve got more comfortable restraints for you,” Dr. Humbert finally breaking the silence in a pleasantly inviting voice. “And a leash. You may as well begin acclimating to feminine control. Stay nice and hard for me and I’ll get you out of those nasty steel bracelets.”
Such are the first heartening words he has heard. The restraints of the security guards at the airfield designed for convincing immobilization rather than long term wear. Yet to remain erect?
“I... I... don’t know if I can do that.”
“Of course you can.”
Robert Probert... maketa Robert Probert... does not realize it, but he is undergoing the first step of conditioning... rigorous conditioning... as the doctor’s team humorously refers to the process.
“Just close your eyes and think of something stimulating... sexually stimulating.”
Dr. Martha Humbert reaches nearby and holds up a pair of soft nylon restraints lined in foam. Under the circumstances such are inviting. He needs to be relieved. In closing his eyes, envisioning the erotic scenes of some tawdry movies, he questions his ready compliance. Yet the cuffs are tight, irritating the skin of his wrists, the tendons of his left bringing cramps.
“Good boy,” the doctor noting the appendage renews its firmness. “Now waggle for me.”
Stepping behind, Robert realizes how close he is to relative emancipation. He waggles, berating himself, yet pulls on his pubo coccygeus muscle with gusto while feeling his wrists being encircled in softness. Next comes the click, click in releasing the tight wrist cuffs.
There comes a humble ‘thank you’, Robert not understanding his own obeisance.
“There will be much counseling to come. I’ll want you to fully describe your thoughts... that which your imagination conjured to bring such firmness,” Robert feeling a finger pressing downward at the very tip of his erection, demonstrating the rigidness of the shaft of steel.
Eyes remaining closed, Robert questions his reaction... was it solely recalling the tawdry movie scenes? Or was it his circumstances, being completely naked and helplessly bound in the presence of the handsome and erudite doctor?
Sensing the doctor step to his front he opens his eyes to note her hands working about his scrotum. He surprises himself with his silence... stunned silence... as a ribbon of pink is alacritously tied about his sac at the base of his standing penis.
“Rwanda... Miss Rwanda... your physical therapist, will take you to your chamber,” the words coming as a length of leather is hooked to the ribbon. “Have you been led about on a leash before, Mr. Probert?” the question coming with a pleasant yet provocative smile.
“No, of course not.”
“Well it’s protocol. Be obedient and follow your therapist’s lead... and the hand and arm of any woman controlling your leash for that matter.”
More Day One
A young woman of apparent African ethnicity speaks as she leads down the hall of a surprisingly modern building. As Robert Probert steps in ignominy... and carefully... needing to keep the length of leather slack, he peers about. He could be in some office building in America, brightly lit, temperature well controlled in the African heat. Though held in restraint, he is certainly not in a prison.
“I’m your physical therapist,” the girl turning back with a triumphant smile, no doubt reveling in her authority, “as Dr. Humbert probably mentioned. For the most part, I am in charge of your body... from your neck down.”
The words come as a doorway is reached, free hand going to twist the knob and open.
“Your chamber,” playfully giving the leash a snap, giggling as the entrapped male plums jiggle and a penis remaining semi engorged bobs about.
The girl leads within and shuts the door. Robert looks about. The windowless room is sizable, walls of white, flooring tiled in brown. In the center is a platform at knee height, a white sheet covering what appears to be a slim mattress. Whomever lies thereon will be the center of attention, Robert quickly concludes, and will be in bondage, similar foam lined cuffs at the corners of one end, presumably for the ankles, straps lying in wait to secure the wrists cuffs at the other. More ominously, from the ceiling a horizontal bar hangs above the platform, straps dangling in invitation to restrained limbs.
“I am to feed, bath and massage you. You’re to be pampered, Mr. Probert, assuming you’re a good boy for me. If not, you’ll be engaged by the disciplinarian. You’re best to avoid that... though she will be exercising you.”
As the girl speaks Robert further peers about. There are two cameras mounted high at the corners. There are cabinets... and many devices... appearing medical... clinical... and sophisticated. He focuses on a shower head with plumbing fixtures on one wall, the floor drained beneath. Whomever is to bathe... be bathed... will do so without privacy... the area centered in the lens of one camera.
“You’ve had a long day. You’re to rest. I want you to lie down for me, supine, feet at this end. Be obedient... as I said you don’t want to unnecessarily irk your disciplinarian.”
Robert complies, sitting on the platform, then turning to present his feet at the end where the girl pats the mattress. With the foam lined strips of nylon, she encircles his ankles... with noted dexterity, Robert concluding she has before placed men in bondage. The girl next unclips the wrists cuff and quickly guides the left to a waiting strap at the top corner. The right follows.
“Lie back,” her voice firm. “You’ll learn tight bondage will bring comfort. You’ll feel safe and secure under a woman’s direction. As I said, you’re to be pampered. As long as you obey no harm will come to you,” the words coming as the girl strolls about the platform zealously tightening each of the four straps.
Tightly spread eagled, she unties the ribbon from Robert’s ball sac, leash removed.
“There, safely bound. You’ve not much body hair... but it’s to be removed. And I think it’s best to get you a pillow. May as well begin acclimating now.”
Robert silently concurs, head low on the thin mattress. Yet the girl reaches to a cabinet and returns to push the thick fluffiness under his hips, pubes pressed to the ceiling.
“It makes your male bits feel very conspicuous, does it not Mr. Probert?.. like you’re all penis and balls,” the girl tittering.
The therapist steps back assessing in silence, a wry smile coming in seeing the semi engorged male appendage begin to firm anew.
What is happening? Robert asks himself as for the first time he can study the pretty young face of she in charge. Yes, the girl is barely out of her teens. Shapely, her white uniform doing little to cloak a fine athletic form of medium height. How is it that at such a young age she can so facilely assume authority over a grown Caucasian man some ten years her senior?
“I’ll get you goggles, so you can sleep. Forgot to mention the lights always stay on... you’re to be under constant surveillance,” an arm lifting, fingers pointing to one of the cameras.
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