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In the Hands of Dr. Wojcik Part 1

By: circumspecter



Chapter 1

As I look back, I feel amazed that I could have put myself into such a state. Me! Robert Douglas, thirty-nine, successful businessman, pillar of the community, and all the rest. Nice house, family, all healthy, OK looking, in short, the personification of the American dream. Everything seemed to be going well for me that summer five years ago, but it was not to remain that way for much longer.

Business slowed down. Way down. The opening of a megastore shopping complex two miles down the road hit my business like a ton of bricks. Had to cut costs, scrimp and save wherever I could. Cut advertising. Tried to renegotiate the lease. Reduce staff. And I was still on the brink of disaster. I started to get desperate. There seemed to be no easy way out. So I did what anybody else would do in the same circumstances. I cheated.

In thirteen years of business I had never had my tax returns questioned. Not once. I had a moderately profitable specialty store, all expenses were within industry norms, and everything looked completely typical for my industry. I had never felt the need to 'push the limits' of creative accounting, so to speak. But these circumstances pushed me too far. I began to adjust the expenses up a bit. Did a few cash sales with no receipts. Faked some damage to the merchandise that could be written off, then promptly sold it at a discount to a friend. You know, the usual stuff, nothing to get excited about. Chump change, really.

Still, I wasn't completely out of the woods. Things were still tight. Hired temps to replace some expensive senior sales staff I had had to let go. Some real losers there. One fat lump of a girl with more pounds than brains kept taking thirty minutes for a fifteen minute break! I shot her dirty looks but she ignored me. Again and again! Finally I'd had enough. Called her a lazy fat cow in front of everyone else, told her to move her big butt outta there now and never come back! Watched her angrily waddle out. Felt good about that. For two days. Then the proverbial shit hit the fan. Hard! Seems our Miss cow had been doing bookkeeping for us. Had seen some of my 'questionable' stuff. Had called the IRS. And now they had me!

Well, like a fool, I fought it. Had a court case. Legal fees! Bloodsucking lawyers. Got pissed off at the judge, an annoying bald dipstick, always looking down at me with utter contempt written on his sappy face. He had the nerve to lecture me before declaring me guilty. Told me my conduct was 'reprehensible'. I snapped. Called him a boring old jerk! What an idiot I was. He glared at me for a minute, then excused himself without a word and retreated to his chambers. My lawyer shot me a 'Now you've really done it!' look.

The judge returned a few minutes later, with a hard look on his face. He explained that normally these cases called for just a fine, but in light of my unrepentant attitude he was giving me two years of community service. I was told to report to the officer in charge later that week. I wearily shuffled out, a beaten man. When I reported to the officer two days later, I was given the choice between assisting at the local old folks home twice a week, or taking part in a project at a local medical research centre, which I had never heard of. The choice was obvious. My case had received almost no attention in the press. 

Still, I knew that my neighbours knew about it. At first I felt embarrassed, but soon got the impression that they kind of were impressed. I almost thought they felt I was some kind of hero, fighting the government like that. But the prospect of cleaning floors in the old folks home was too horrible to consider. I would certainly see lots of people I knew, friends, business associates, visiting their old folks. 

The medical research was a no-brainer for me. So I was told to report to the Wojcik Neurological Research Institute, WNRI, in the ADF Medical building, 471 Francine Blvd, 5:15 p.m., the next Thursday. I had been given the 5:15 time slot to allow me to continue operating my business during normal business hours. I was warned that I must faithfully attend a two hour session twice every week, and co-operate fully. It was explained that the Wojcik Neurological Institute was headed by Dr. M. Wojcik, an internationally renowned expert in neurological science. I was to participate in some sort of research project funded by the government. Any complaints about my conduct would result in the court reviewing my case, with the distinct possibility of jail time replacing the community service. 

I happily assured the community service officer that I was more than willing to completely comply with all their requirements.. He instructed me to get chest x-rays and blood work performed at the local hospital, and sent to Dr. Wojcik in advance of the first appointment. As I drove off that summer day, my spirits soared. Medical research! It was perfect. No-one would see me, no work involved, just sit there and be tested, whatever that might mean. Maybe there would be a little physical discomfort, that's all. Probably testing a new drug or something. Whatever. I could deal with that. Hell, maybe I could sue them later! With that cheery thought I drove to the hospital.

Chapter 2

Thursday was a typical day. Traffic in the store was so-so, but dealing with suppliers was taking a lot more of my time than usual. One of my biggest called just before we closed at 5:00. I was stretching payments on average ten days longer than usual, and boy, he didn't like that at all! On the other hand, I was a pretty good customer in all other respects, so I figured that our negotiating positions were about equal. I finally managed to talk my way out of things, hung up the phone, and realized with a shock that I was suddenly at risk of being late for my first research appointment. I told my assistant Helen to lock up, and dashed out the door into my five-year old convertible. I raced through traffic, weaving in and out like a madman, before hurtling into the ADF Medical Building parking lot at 5:06. Nine minutes, plenty of time.

To my dismay the lot was full, and several cars were circling aimlessly waiting for a spot. I waited behind an older K-car, which was obviously waiting for a spot as well. Shouldn't take long, I thought to myself, what with it being just after 5:00 . Lots of people must be leaving right about now. Sure enough, just then a stocky fellow in an very crumpled cheap suit walked over to his car, keys in hand. As he pulled away, I waited for the car in front to take the spot. Nothing. No sign of life. 

Another ten seconds, I decided, then I'll take it. Nothing. Fine, then I'll take it. I moved forward to the side of the parked car, and was beginning to wheel into the spot when suddenly the dormant K-car carelessly lurched forward, cutting me off. I had to slam on the brakes to avoid a collision. 

What the hell? Unbelievable! Didn't even see me! I watched incredulously as the car slowly parked, then opened its door. A forty-five'ish woman emerged, black hair, thick old-fashioned glasses, very plain face, heavily built, a little more than average height. A real non-looker, if you know what I mean. Her face was expressionless, which confirmed to me that she was unaware that she had cut me off. As she began to cross towards the foyer, a small group of twenty-somethings came out of the building.

As usual my impulses got the better of me. I leaned out the window.

"Hey fat-ass!" She looked around, bewildered. The twenty-somethings looked over at me, surprised.

"Hey you!"

She finally fixed her startled eyes on me.

"Ever consider looking where you're going? You just cut me off, you dumb cow! Where'd you learn how to drive, moron?"

She stopped. Her face looked shocked, and I swore I could see her lips twitching, trying to form words that weren't there. One of the twenty-somethings giggled. The woman stood there, unable to move. I stared at her for a second, then noticed that a car was pulling out further on. I gunned the motor, and was gone. I actually felt a sense of exhilaration as I strolled into the building a minute later. Like it or not, that was the way I dealt with people, and if they were going to act like idiots, they deserved whatever they got from me. I noted that the Wojcik Neurological Institute was situated in Room 55 on the fifth floor, and , feeling rejuvenated, decided to take the stairs. I raced up them two at a time, positively brimming with youthful energy.

I slipped into the waiting room. A slightly chubby but nonetheless attractive receptionist with incredibly long red hair and lots of freckles took my details, and asked me to take a seat. For fifteen minutes I read magazines, then was escorted down a hall, past several rooms, into Dr. Wojcik's office. It was rather boringly laid out, I must admit, and I wondered what kind of research was involved here. The receptionist offered to get me a coffee, which I gladly accepted. When she returned, she told me that Dr. Wojcik would be just a few more minutes. I was still feeling rather chipper, and this gal was friendly enough, so I asked her if she always worked this late. She said that it happened a few times a week when Dr. Wojcik had extra reports to prepare. I inquired whether he was busy with lots of projects at the moment. She looked at me strangely for a moment, then replied that she had just received government funding for a new project that would keep her occupied for several years. I was a little bit shocked to discover that Dr. Wojcik was female, and I felt a little bit unnerved for a moment, but it soon passed. She left the office, shutting the door behind her.

In a few minutes, I heard the sound of several footsteps clacking down the hard surface of the hallway, and the sounds of voices. They stopped just outside the door, and I heard a few snatches of conversation. I presumed it was Dr. Wojcik and the receptionist.

..."not to be disturbed...finish the filing...Yes...Yes...Fine. Buzz me when you get the x-ays please, Veronica."

Then I heard one pair of footsteps receding into the distance, and the 'click' of the door latch as the door handle was turned. Dr. Wojcik entered the room.

Our eyes met, and for a moment I thought I might either faint or piss in my pants.. It was HER! The woman in the parking lot! I couldn't believe it. She now had on a large white Doctor's jacket, but she was unmistakable. My stomach contracted uneasily, and I swallowed nervously. As she looked at me I saw here eyes widen in surprise, and then for a second a flush seemed to come over her face. I quickly drooped my gaze. I think we were both speechless for a moment or two, then she regained her poise, closed the door behind her, and walked purposefully behind her desk. Without looking at me or saying a word she reached into a drawer and pulled out a file, then began flipping through the pages one by one.

I sat there completely dumbfounded. I could feel my face, hot and flushed, begin to perspire, and there was a distinct stickiness in my armpits as a wave of complete helplessness overcame me. For once, I was speechless. Looking up at me over her glasses, she suddenly broke the silence.

"You know why you're here?"

I was taken aback. Her voice had a thick foreign accent, Romanian or Polish or something like that, with a dead, steely tone to it. Absolutely cold and blank.

"Y-Yes," I stammered, "medical research."

"Hmmmm." She carried on flipping through her files and charts.

"You did have a full set of x-rays taken?"

I nodded.

"Well, they're not here yet. They are supposed to arrive today. Otherwise your medical files seem to be in order, and everything looks satisfactory. You're healthy, at least...Do you know what this research project involves?"

A meek "No" was all I could muster.

"My work involves the study of brain activity during involuntary muscle contractions, spasms, seizures, and the like. There are numerous applications related to neuro-motor conditions such as Parkinson's disease and epilepsy. My testing involves inducing a wide variety of these uncontrollable spasms, such as sneezing, and monitoring brain activity according to various measurement criteria. As the subject of this experiment you must be willing to submit to long sessions of such activity. There will be little or no pain, but some fatigue and other types of discomfort. And I must remind you that this study cannot be partially completed, as your brain activity under each type of stimulus must be tabulated and compared to your, and only your measurements. If you should decide even in the last month of the study that you can no longer continue, the entire project is wasted, and I shall be forced to inform the authorities of such. In that case you will be required to perform other community service, not for the duration, but from the beginning. So you see, you must take your commitment to this project seriously."

I nodded my head, but all I could think of was the incident in the parking lot. I knew that she knew it was me. I decided that the best policy was to get it over with and confront the issue, so that there wasn't this nasty feeling continuously hanging in the air.

"Look," I began, "about that incident in the parking lot. I didn't mean..."

"Mr. Douglas," she intervened, with a severe tone of voice, "what did or did not occur in the parking lot or anywhere else for that matter, does not concern us here. This is a professional research facility, and I will conduct myself in a professional manner here at all times. I expect the same of you. Now, do you have any questions?"

I felt immeasurably relieved, now that that was out of the way. I couldn't think of anything else, so after a moment of silence, she directed me down the hall to Room 4d..

Chapter 3

I found the room two doors down at the end of the hall, and pulled the solid white steel door open. The light was on, and as I stepped inside I observed a normal medical examination room. There was a steel office-type desk in one corner, with a computer on it, two steel cabinets, one with two large swing doors, the other with two columns of pull-out drawers, an examination table with the usual roll of paper lining the surface, and a large examination light on rollers. I sat up on the exam table, and waited. There was a steady hiss coming from the air-vents, a soothing background noise that I found quite relaxing. I was startled when the door suddenly swung open and Dr. Wojcik walked in, for I hadn't heard any footsteps coming down the hallway. As she swung the door shut behind her, I noticed that the door and frame had a series of rubber baffles and foam edges where they joined, and evidently this created a very sound-proof closure. She walked behind her desk, her shoes making a hard clacking as she walked, and took a clipboard and pen out.

"Please remove your clothes down to your underwear and sit down on the examination table."

I had forgotten about medical exams. Feeling like a little boy, I did as I was ordered, hanging my clothes on a hook behind the door, then sat on the table. 

She then gave me a normal series of tests - examined my eyes, nose and ears, made me cough while listening through the stethoscope., tested the reflexes, took my temperature, and felt my throat and chest. As this was going on I noted more details about Dr. Wojcik. Her hair was very black, medium length, done up in some completely non-descript fashion that was remarkably boring. She had thick eyebrows for a woman, a medium-sized mouth, with cheeks that were just on their way to the looseness of middle-age. Her skin was somewhat pale, and I detected a whiff of cheap perfume on it. There was almost no make-up on her face, save some red lipstick that looked ill-chosen and inexpertly applied on her inelegant lips. Never was or could be a beauty, that much was for sure, but certainly not ugly either. The kind of face you really don't pay much notice to in ordinary circumstances. Overall her body was on the large size, although far from fat. About 5'10," she was tall, and struck me as strong. An excellent peasant, I thought wickedly to myself. I could just imagine her walking behind a horse-drawn plough somewhere in Bulgaria. Her bust and hips seemed in approximately correct proportions, although it was hard to tell with the white lab coat on. When she examined my ears I felt her breath on the side of my face, and smelled it - a little stale, never used fresheners, that much was clear. As she went she ticked off items on her clipboard.

"Right, please remove your undershorts and lie down on the examination table."

I froze. Of course. A full exam. Even the privates. How awful.

I glanced at her face, and my stomach turned when I saw that she was ready, staring straight into my eyes. Not a hint of any expression at all. What to do? Reluctantly I stood up, pulled down my shorts, stepped out of them, and placed them on the hook with the other items. I sat on the examination table, then swung around, and lay back, legs held together. I somehow couldn't believe that I was now lying with my manhood fully exposed in this cool air, in front of the same woman I had yelled at in the parking lot just half an hour earlier.

Dr. Wojcik began to press on my lower abdomen, here, there, and everywhere. Then she used two hands and lifted one leg, put it to the side a little, then did the same to the other. She reached up along my thigh and began pressing below my testicles with her thumb and fingers, then gently examined the scrotum, feeling for the vas defe7rens, before examining the testicles themselves. I felt quite vulnerable, fearful of pain. My leg muscles were tensed, and I sat as still as a statue. Finally, she briefly lifted my penis, pulled the skin down, looked intently at the head without touching it, and then gently placed it back down on my stomach. She turned and began ticking items off on her clipboard, and I was just starting to relax again when suddenly there was a timid knock on the door.

"Yes?" Dr. Wojcik grunted, without looking up.

The door opened a crack.

"Ah, Dr. Wojcik, it's Veronica.. The X-rays have just arrived by courier. Shall I leave them on your desk?"

"No, bring them in."

A shudder went through me. Bring them in? What about me?. The door immediately swung open, and before I could think, I heard Veronica enter the room. I say heard because at that time I was so mortified that I stared at the back wall as hard as I could, even though Veronica could not be more than a few feet away. She had to of seen everything! My mortification knew no bounds. And Dr. Wojcik made no move to turn around and take the damned X-rays! She continued to jot notes on her clipboard, her back to me and Veronica, while we waited. 

She finally turned around after what seemed like two minutes, although it was probably only fifteen seconds, and took the envelope. She reached across me and pulled the extendible lamp over, switching it on. Then, she carefully extracted the films and held the first up to the light, directly above my stomach. Veronica turned to go, but D. Wojcik indicated that she was to stay with a short wave of her hand. She studied the x-ray carefully. 

"Hmmm. This is quite unsatisfactory." She beckoned to Veronica to come look. "The quality is very poor. This must have been done by a trainee. Look, you cannot even distinguish any detail in the lungs."

Veronica stepped over beside the exam table, right next to me now. Dr. Wojcik placed the X-ray on my stomach, then reached for number two.

"Look. Here again. Absolutely unsatisfactory."

Dr. Wojcik looked. Veronica looked. And I looked. At Veronica's breasts. I couldn't help it. They seemed to be somewhat on the large side. The bright light from the lamp was shining through her white blouse, and I could make out the lacy pattern of the white bra material beneath it. Her right arm was reaching forward, and I could see part of her armpit through the drooping material, and the first hint of her right breast before the bra covered it up. The form was perfectly visible in a kind of bright silhouette, and I could detect the bumpy little point of her nipple, protruding even through the bra fabric. It was a very loose bra, for as she leaned forward to look closer at the x-ray, I clearly saw her breast slightly detach itself from her chest wall and hang a little. As she stood there, I watched in fascination as she absentmindedly reached across her torso with her left arm, and gave her chest a scratch just below her breast. I saw her breast lift a little as she scratched. Dr. Wojcik continued to point out the shortcomings of the x-ray to her.


In the Hands of Dr. Wojcik Part 1



And then , disaster! I had let my eyes wander too long. I realized with an electric shock that I was feeling the first all-too-familiar tingly sensations in my penis that heralded the imminent arrival of an erection. I froze even more completely than before, if that were possible. Unfortunately, that only accentuated the feeling in my penis, when, horror of horrors, I felt it shift slightly for the first time. It began to fill out, and every move reinforced itself, until a snowball effect was reached. Every movement of that uncontrollable organ caused further stimulation, which led to more movement, and on it went. I was by now half erect, when I received the coup-de-grace! My insolent and disobedient member's head managed to slide overtop of X-ray number 1, laying on my stomach. The cool, incredibly smooth material between my penis and my stomach seemed to wake it up fully, causing it to stiffen noticeably. Straighter and straighter, bigger and harder, pleased at its new-found freedom, until it was on full alert, lifting off the x-ray like a loaded cannon, bobbing ever-so-slightly up and down with each pulse of my now frantically beating heart. 

I was so busy staring at the ceiling, trying to think of fishing, work, money, how to decorate the cottage - anything to get it settled down, that I didn't notice for a few moments that the conversation had ceased. When I finally did look down, I saw that both Veronica and Dr. Wojcik had turned, and were staring intently at my bobbing member. Veronica's mouth was slightly open, eyes wide with disbelief. A flush came over her face. She bit her lip. Even Dr. Wojcik looked startled. I immediately locked my eyes back on the ceiling. Dr. Wojcik reached down, and I felt the x-ray sliding out from underneath me. As it was removed, it slid briefly against the underside of my penis, which immediately stiffened quite uncontrollably, briefly arching upwards before lazily flopping back down. There was absolute silence. Dr. Wojcik cleared her throat and gathered all the x-rays together and walked over to the desk. Despite myself, I had to glance at Veronica's face again, her eyes still riveted on my semi-erect manhood. She turned and looked at my face. Our eyes met. I wanted to look away, but something forced me to hold her steady gaze. Then, to my utter astonishment, she calmly turned her head and looked back there for a moment, as if she were not really believing what she was seeing, before she too moved away. Dr. Wojcik stuffed the z-rays back into the envelope, and told Veronica to make another x-ray appointment for me next week. Finally, Veronica left.

Dr. Wojcik told me to get dressed. After a few minutes, she reminded me not to be late for the next appointment, and dismissed me. Like a beaten dog, I slunk down the hall way. Veronica was still in the booth as I passed through the front office, but I studiously avoided looking at her. As I opened the door to leave, I heard her say clearly, "Good night, Mr. Douglas." 

I couldn't help looking at her then, and she gave me a brief smile, a cursory, professional smile, the smile a teacher gives to her young students. Yet I thought I detected a slight beam in her face, almost a look of triumph, as she looked intently at me, a little too intently, I thought. I nodded at her a little, and only managed to squeak out a hoarse "G'night," before turning away towards the elevator. A beaten dog indeed.

Chapter 4

The next session, the research began. The first study was to be sneezing, I was told. We spent the first twenty minutes custom fitting a metal headpiece to my skull. There were a dozen or so metal connections that made contact with various locations on my cranium, and a thick cable ran from the entire apparatus to a computer on the desk. It was held on with several straps, one under the chin, one round the back, and another joining the two. I felt no sensations at all when the thing was turned on. Dr. Wojcik explained that my brainwave patterns were being monitored and stored, to determine what effects involuntary physical reactions caused. As usual, she wore a loose fitting white lab coat.

I sat on a small chair with armrests. I was asked to remove my shirt. What came next severely startled me. Dr Wojcik strapped both arms down with leather straps she took from a drawer, then fastened another around my waist and several more around each leg. She briefly explained that this was necessary to completely isolate the muscular contractions she would soon be inducing. I felt like a prisoner, but couldn't come up with anything to say. She then began to induce sneezing fits by tickling my nostrils with a small stick, like a Popsicle stick but one tenth the size. First one nostril, then the other. I sneezed. Then again. She gently wiped my nose with a tissue. Dr. Wojcik warned me to stay as still as possible. 

After a few minutes of this, a brief tickle with the stick would cause a bout of uncontrollable sneezes in rapid succession. My nose, throat, and chest began to hurt. A few specks of blood appeared on the tissue. Yet on she went, tapping commands into her computer after each sequence of sneezes. The effect of not being able to move the rest of my body caused severe strain on my chest and abdominal muscles. After a half hour of this I was sweating profusely, and was on the verge of asking Dr. Wojcik to stop, when she removed the headpiece of her own accord, and instructed me to lie down on the examination table. I happily complied. She continued tapping away, and I stared up at the ceiling, wearily happy just to lie still. I guess I drifted off to sleep, for about forty-five minutes later I was woken up by Dr. Wojcik's voice:

"OK, Mr. Douglas, time for the second series."

I pulled myself up and broken-heartedly slid back onto the stool. The previous session was repeated almost exactly, except that this time there was some blood almost from the start. When we were finished, I was exhausted. I felt like I'd run a marathon. Dr. Wojcik dismissed me absent-mindedly, and she was still tapping away as I slipped out of Room 4d at precisely 7:15.

Another day of sneezing tests followed. Coughing was next, then blinking, then hiccupping. Finally vomiting, or rather, heaving, since my stomach was soon emptied of its contents. We were now into our third month. She let me take a week off, explaining that she needed more time to tabulate the existing data.

When I arrived for the next session, I was surprised to see a new apparatus in the room, attached to the examination table. There was a stainless steel tube, about three inches in diameter, attached vertically to the far side of the examination table, extending up about six feet or so. Near the top, a U-shaped steel tube was attached, in such a way that the two arms of the U were horizontal to the floor, overtop of the table. The arms were padded, and I was to soon learn that they functioned as arm rests. There were several straps dangling down from each arm. Attached vertically below these arm rests, against the steel pipe, was a padded board about four inches wide and eighteen inches high. Below that, about two feet from the table surface, was what looked like a padded seat, covered in what appeared to be bright red leather, mounted vertically on a steel shaft that ran horizontally through the steel pipe and extended behind for two feet. The steel shaft was notched with some sort of gears, and an apparatus not unlike a winch for a tennis court net was mounted at the back, a long handle hanging down. Finally, on either side of the stainless steel pipe, about two feet apart, were mounted two smaller stainless steel pipes that had steel hoops, about five inches in diameter, welded vertically on top. The two small steel pipes themselves were able to slide up and down through metal guides bolted to the steel frame of the examination table, with large knobs evidently used to lock them into a position. All in all it was a bewildering sight. I wondered uneasily what it all was for.

As usual, I sat in the chair while Dr. Wojcik went through her notes. Finally, she spoke.

"Right, we're off in a new direction today, Mr. Douglas. Please remove all your clothing and get up on the examination table."

Nervously, I did so, sitting on the edge, hands strategically placed in lap.

"Please get on your knees, and lean your back against the red back rest.."

Awkwardly, I got off the table, tuned around, and climbed up onto the table. I carefully ducked under one of the arm rests, lifted my right leg around the stainless steel tube, and swung my body around so that my back was resting against the back-rest. My hands were clasped in front, in an attempt to provide what little modesty for myself as I could. Dr. Wojcik moved behind me. I heard a mechanism being turned, then noticed the arm-rests moving down.

"Please twist your shoulders so that these armrests can be lowered."

They slipped below my shoulders, and when they were low enough I heard the same tightening sound, followed by a clunk as the metal clasp snapped tight. I remained twisted, hands in front.

"Good. Now, lift your arms up and place them on these arm-rests."

I did as I was told, feeling the acute embarrassment of my total genital exposure. I kept my legs as close together as was possible, given the position of the stainless steel tube between my ankles.

I heard more sounds, then looked down to see the two metal rings being lowered to just above the tables padded surface.

"Please bring your feet through these hoops, one at a time pleas."

I carefully lifted my left leg , brought it forward, then to the side a little and inserted the foot backwards through the hoop so that it hung over the edge of the table. Then the same for the other one. I felt the hoops being firmly pulled down, then tightened into place, firmly pinning my feet. They were tight, but not unduly so. Nevertheless, I realized that there was no way I could move without crushing my Achilles tendon. My legs were now spread widely apart. I could sense how my testicles were hanging down, how they must be clearly visible from behind. I had no way of seeing Dr. Wojcik's face.

More sounds of adjustments. Then, a click! click! click! sound, as the padded seat began to move forward under the guidance of Dr. Wojcik. The gearing was evidently quite low and powerful, for I could see out of the side of my eye that she was turning the handle several times, with only a tiny movement of the seat. Nevertheless, on she went, until the seat firmly contacted my bare buttocks. 

She stopped and came around from behind the table, then retrieved a small step stool from behind her desk. She walked forward, and opened a drawer located n the center of the examination table, directly below me. She looked closely at my legs directly in front of her, and pushed my right knee several inches further to the side.

"Do not move your knees."

She reached in and pulled something firmly, and I heard a mechanism of some kind clack! loudly. What happened next truly took me by surprise. She closed the drawer, reached for another handle just below it, and give a firm pull. To my astonishment, a large section of the examination table separated from the rest, and was rolled to one side and out of the way by Dr. Wojcik. It was a square section, almost two feet wide. The paper covering the table had hidden the place where the sections of padded surface had butted up against each other. There was now an empty space below me, extending from the far side of the table to a foot or so from the near side, running only an inch or two inside of where my legs now rested. She went to her desk, and picked up a pair of scissors, then returned and cut away the paper that now covered thin air. I could now see why she had cautioned me against moving my legs. If a leg strayed too far and slid off the table, my weight would be held by the hoops encircling my heels, with painful consequences, no doubt. 

She reached up, and began to fasten the leather straps to my arms, more tightly than I would have wished. Soon they were effectively immobilized. Walking over to the desk, she retrieved the headset, with all its wires attached, and placed it on the exam table to one side Placing the step stool in the now vacant space between my legs, she stood up.

Her head was about at my chest level. Reaching down, she grasped the headset, and hoisted it up onto my head. As she fiddled with the awkward straps, I felt her panting breath, softly warming my chest in the cool air. I looked straight ahead, enduring this indignity as best I could, but she grew impatient with the difficulty of adjusting the straps, and roughly tilted my head down, much as a barber does when cutting hair, in order to fasten the straps more easily. The only alternative to staring her in the face was to look straight down, which I did. Unfortunately, what then occupied my view was her chest, heaving with exertion. I had nowhere else to look. From this angle, I could see down her top sufficiently to view the top of her breasts, large pale white mounds, contained by a flesh-coloured. patternless silk bra which apparently was cut low at the front. 

Her breasts moved a little bit, side to side, as she struggled with the straps, and I noticed that they were only a couple of inches from my dangling manhood. After completing the chin strap, she reached up further to attach the strap at the back of my head, standing on tiptoes. This caused her breasts to lift up more fully into my view, while they actually pressed into my lower abdomen, gently rubbing me as she fumbled with the straps. I immediately began to get a powerful erection. There was no hope of stopping this one: it reared up to full stiffness in just a few moments, and I felt the head pushing lightly against the lab coat just below her breasts. I closed my eyes, but that only seemed to make matters worse, so I quickly reopened them. 

What I saw made matters worse still. Far worse. Her stretching upwards had bunched up her lab coat in the middle, causing it to bulge open between the top two buttons. To my complete horror, the head of my penis was poking into this opening. I thought I was fully erect before, but this unexpected foray into the unknown pushed me past known limits. The head was fully covered by the coat now, like a snake poking its head into a rat-hole, looking for prey. I could feel the warmth of her breasts, and the soft sensation of the silk bra material between them. I gritted my teeth, waiting for the eventual discovery of the intruder by Dr. Wojcik, but none came. She finished the back strap, and let herself down off tiptoes, still reaching up to work on the final strap linking the other two. Of course, as she lowered down, my penis was caught behind enemy lines, trapped now by the top button. Unbelievably, my shaft was now actually sandwiched lightly between her bare breasts! Still, under all the exertion she was going through, she did not notice. I could feel the incredible softness of those gentle protrusions, , as her continuing struggle with the straps caused them to jostle and rub against me. My penis was in heaven. I was not.

Finally, with a loud sigh, Dr. Wojcik finished the last strap, and began to step down. I began to clear my throat to say something , but it was too late. As she stepped down, my shaft ripped upwards, tearing off the top button of her coat, then stabbed skywards, glancing off her chin, before ending up pressed against her right cheek, nearly poking her in the eye. There was a fraction of a second of delay, after which my penis, under the strain of tremendous stimulation, stiffened momentarily, then smacked back happily against her cheek, like a trained seal flapping its flippers.

Twisting violently away, Dr. Wojcik let out a half-strangled cry of utter revulsion and disgust, then staggered out of the room, slamming the door violently shut behind her. I was aghast! It was impossible that such a thing had happened, yet it had! How on earth would she react to me now? Would this be an infraction sufficient to warrant her reporting me to the authorities as non-co-operative? I remained there, on my knees, strapped in position, and stewed it over. Five minutes. Then ten. My penis had settled back down to its dormant state. Finally, after some fifteen minutes had elapsed, the door swung open and Dr. Wojcik stepped into the room once again. She did not look at me, nor I at her.

Almost immediately she went behind her desk and began tapping into the computer. After a minute or so she stood up and walked behind me, taking the step-stool with her, then retrieved the mobile light and rolled it around in front of me, off just slightly to one side. It was extended forward and down, so that it was pointed directly at my belly. With a flick of a switch, it brightly illuminated my entire lower torso with several hundred watts of intense, white light. I was only too aware of my nakedness, and the fact that my genitals were now completely visible, every hair, every pore, every movement made matters worse. Turning to the cabinet near the door, she removed a pair of translucent off-yellow surgical gloves, and put them on, then retrieved a small container. She unscrewed the cap, and proceeded to dip her right index finger inside. She slowly withdrew it after swirling it about inside for a moment, examined the whitish cream, then glanced over to me, directly at my penis. The left hand was then similarly inserted inside the canister, and removed with somewhat more cream. Not a word was spoken. My mouth began to feel dry. I shifted my weight uneasily from one side to the other.

Dr. Wojcik walked behind me. There was a moment of silence, then I felt the her left hand brushing along my left upper inside thigh. Then, my scrotum was cupped by her hand, and the cream spread around my testicles. All around them the cream was gently rubbed and massaged into my skin. I felt intensely vulnerable. One hard tug of those fingers, and I would be in agony. Yet the sensation was undeniably pleasurable, and I could feel the skin loosening up, as she pulled and stretched it in all directions, gently tugging on first one testicle, then the other. As she pulled, my penis began to bob up and down, and in short order I was semi-erect. I cleared my throat, and kneeled a little more upright, moving my bottom off the seat pad as I straightened up.

Almost immediately, Dr. Wojcik stopped. I heard some clicks and adjustments, then the sound of the winch handle being turned. After a few turns, I felt the seat pad again make contact with my bottom, and yet she continued to turn, driving my hips several inches further forward. When she stopped, I was frozen in position, hips thrust forward, prevented from going back by the seat pad, and held from going forward by the rings pinning my feet in place. A cold fear began to come over me. I was locked in position so tightly that about all I could do was breathe and move my head about, not much else.

I heard the step stool sliding across the floor behind me, then Dr. Wojcik stood up on it. Once again, the left hand began to work., the tugging became firmer, and several times the skin of the scrotum was stretched quite hard. My penis began to firm once again, and shortly thereafter, she reached around me with her right hand, and took hold of my penis. I could feel her breath on my bare back. Gently, she applied the cream over my shaft, then began to slowly pump her hand back and forth, about two seconds each direction, while still massaging my scrotum with her left hand. I achieved full erection very quickly. 

Despite the embarrassment, I felt very aroused. After a minute or so, I began to feel the need to thrust into her movement. I repressed it, but still, my arousal grew to the point where I had no control. Despite my tight bindings, I was able to force my hips slightly further forward on her back-stroke, creating a slight sensation of actually penetrating her hand. Again, her movements immediately stopped, and I heard her get down from the stool, before the now-familiar winch mechanism slid forward yet again. Further thrusting was now completely impossible. I was helpless, kneeling, with my hips thrust far forward, erect penis stabbing out in the most obscene manner. My breathing was now heavy, heart pounding, and I felt myself beginning to sweat profusely.




In the Hands of Dr. Wojcik Part 1



Dr. Wojcik came around from behind the table, and quickly glanced at the computer monitor. She stood there for a moment, thinking, before finally peeling off the slippery gloves and throwing them in the waste-paper basket. She tapped a few instructions into the computer, then gave a grunt of evident satisfaction, before moving back in front of me. After dipping her now bare fingers into the cream canister, her left hand again reached forward and grasped my hanging scrotum, then the right took the penis again. The slow pumping resumed, my penis now pointing straight at her throat. Her face was no more than a foot from my erect shaft, and as I looked down I saw her staring intently at it. Once she stopped, pushed it flat against my stomach, then moved her face within three inches of the head, examining it closely. I could feel her warm breath on it, and I stiffened violently at the stimulation, but her fingers held me tight. She then lowered her head, pulled my testicle forward, and examined them closely. Straightening up, she resumed her pumping, , slowly.

Up...two...down...two...up...two...down...two...up...two...down...two...

On it went, always with a light touch, a steady beat that never wavered or changed. I began to desire to thrust again, but it was a futile hope: I was too tightly bound. In desperation, I began to tighten and loosen my leg and stomach muscles in time with her pumps, in a vain attempt to satisfy my overarching need to thrust. To my dismay, Dr. Wojcik respond by lightening her grip on my penis further, and slowing down the pumps.

Uuuuuuppppppp.. two... three... four... dddooowwwnnn... two... three... four... uuuuuupppppp... two... three... four... dddooowwwnnn... two... three... four...

I was at wits end. I could feel my penis head bulging near to bursting, now oozing with pre-ejaculate, yet the stimulation was perfectly controlled to keep me at the edge of orgasm without going over. My legs trembled, unable to provide me with the few hard thrusts required to finish it off. Slower and slower went the hand. I began to feel the pressure building, and I knew that I was soon to explode, thrusting or no thrusting. I suddenly groaned aloud, startling myself, then was unable to stop, moaning between intakes of breath. Now her pumps became much shorter, moving up to concentrate on only the top two inches of my shaft, fingers uncoiled, until they no longer encircled my penis, but simply applied a light rubbing on the underside. Still the pressure inside me grew. Dr. Wojcik removed her left hand from my scrotum, and, still rubbing with her right, moved her body to the side so that the space was clear directly in front of me. My penis now lay resting against her fingers, as they slowly slid up and down. On came the pressure inside me. I was seconds away.

A drop of clear pre-ejaculate oozed out, and hung down in a foot long strand that refused to break. As I looked down, Dr. Wojcik leaned forward , bringing her eyes to within a few inches of my shaft, then turned her head to look up at me. Her face was calm, but there was an unmistakable hint of a half-smile on her lips. Unconsciously or consciously, I don't know, she briefly licked her lips, and I saw her pink tongue emerge from those thick lips, just inches from my throbbing maleness. Her rubbing slowed to almost a standstill.

It was too much for me.

With a mighty final stiffenning, I felt a mighty wave of pressure building deep inside my testicles, then my shaft pumped out a dollop of creamy semen. It landed on the floor with an audible splat. I moaned helplessly, half in pleasure, half in frustration. Immediately, Dr. Wojcik ceased her rubbing, and removed her hand from contact with my penis altogether. She crouched over, hands resting on her legs, and intently observed my throbbing shaft from a distance of only a few inches. I could feel her eyes. 

With no fingers to support the shaft, my penis flopped up and down, as it continued to disgorge its contents onto the floor in a thoroughly undignified manner. . But without further stimulation, and the inability to thrust myself into something, my spasms soon ceased, and were replaced by a kind of oozing action that seemed to go on and on, yet was very unsatisfying. I felt half-completed. Once again, a long strand of semen hung down from my quivering shaft, swinging lightly back and forth like a pendulum. Dr. Wojcik continued to stare, taking in every spasm, every pump, every tremor of my manhood as it sought the complete release it was being so cruelly denied. 

Finally, all movement seemed to cease. I remained locked in position, of course, penis still stabbing straight out, and Dr. Wojcik continued staring at it for several more minutes, until it began to droop downwards. Finally, she straightened up. Reaching forward, she extended her index finger, and lifted my drooping semi-hard penis to a horizontal position, looked at it some more, then let it drop. The semen strand swung crazily, and for a moment I thought it would hit her leg, before she turned and moved behind her desk. 

Her face was full of concentration, and as she tapped the keyboard, I could hear the light scratchy sound of the hard disk operating. As she worked I became aware of what I must look like - a stud-horse, successfully milked of his sperm, humbly awaiting his mistress's permission to go back to his stall. The evidence of my artificially stoked lust hung still now, refusing to fall to the ground to join the rest of my sperm still lying uncleaned there. I felt completely used and humiliated. I had no dignity left at all. The thought of asking to be able to get down did not even occur to me. In fact, I was so spent that I could only rest there and think of how nice it would be to get home later on, watch TV, and go to bed. Although tightly tied, I was not unduly uncomfortable, and began to drift into a semi-conscious state, lulled by the gentle tapping of the keys. After a few minutes she came out from behind her desk. She took a tissue and cleaned up the long strand of sperm still dangling from my shrunken penis, then unstrapped me, and instructed me to get dressed and sit on the chair in the corner of the room. She did not clean up the floor. As soon as I was sitting in the chair, I began to feel very tired again, and soon nodded off to sleep.

I awoke with a start to the sound of a clackety old dot-matrix printer. Dr. Wojcik stood up, and walked over to me.

"You had a nice sleep, Mr. Douglas. About an hour or so. It is now time for the second test."

My brain was still groggy. The second test? 

"Er, ah, do you mean...?"

"Yes, we must test the ejaculation response twice each session. We achieved outstanding results the first time. Very strong brainwave patterns. This may prove to be a very fruitful area of research. So lets get back to work. Back up on the platform, please."

Without waiting for my response, she walked purposefully behind the examination table, and began turning the winch handle, eventually retracting the seat pad fully. Wearily, I shed my clothes, no longer conscious of my nakedness, and clambered back up. As before, I was strapped into position, except that this time I had no recurrence of the prior embarrassing contact between my penis and her breasts.

Standing beside me, Dr.Wojcik lubricated her hands, and immediately set to work , left hand reaching around to work the scrotum and testicles, right hand gently spreading the cream all over my penis before commencing a light pumping action. The feel of her bare hands once again on my weary manhood once again had a predictable effect. As I hardened, I noticed that she had not yet tightened the seat pad behind me. I rested my bottom against it, so that I was not at all thrust forward, as before. I grew harder, and eventually could not help but involuntarily thrust my hips forward a little. Nothing. She just kept on her light, slow pumping. On and on, staring intently at my member. Fully erect now, I again felt an uncontrollable urge to thrust my hips, and again she allowed me to do so without tightening the seat pad. 

Although I felt shy and embarrassed, my lust soon grew so out-of-control that I succumbed to the need for release, and began a regular thrusting action, humping her hand in increasingly powerful actions. I was mating her fingers! It was ridiculous, and humiliating, but completely unstoppable. The table began to shake and rattle from my animalistic exertions. I stabbed myself over and over into her waiting hand, the hand that was controlling my manhood, wanting to drive myself deeper and deeper, to show her what a man truly was. Yet in truth, it was she that was taking me, driving me, controlling my lust against my will, teasing me with her hand, like a rider taming a wild horse. She easily controlled every thrust, then coaxed another out of me. 

As I looked down I could see the top of her breasts exposed. They jostled a little as her hands moved with my thrusts. Her left breast was only an inch or so to the front of my right thigh. I suddenly thought of how I'd love to savagely rip off her coat and bra, and grab that tit , squeezing and pulling hard before sucking on as much of it as I could stuff into my mouth. I could just imagine her struggling as I forced myself on her. The thought drove me wild. With a brazenness that surprised myself, on the next thrust forward I used what flexibility I had available to me and shifted my hips as far as I could to the right, driving my thigh tightly into her breast. I made contact! I went into a frenzy of super-quick thrusts, driving myself against her another two or three times before she was able to pull herself back. 

She looked up at me crossly, frowning.

"Tsk tsk. Let's stay under control, Mr. Douglas."

I momentarily weakened in fatigue and frustration, and stopped my thrusting. She immediately began to gently twist the head of my penis, letting it slip through her fingers, back and forth, causing such a moan of desperate, unfulfilled lust to escape from my lips that I'm sure the entire building could hear it. 

I started humping again, frantic for release. To my dismay, Dr. Wojcik began to move her hands with my thrusts, so that very little of my hip movement was translated into movement through that warm, soft hand. I thrust further now, each pump causing my bottom to bang furiously against the seat pad. The hand followed with me, forward and back, till I was not getting any movement within the hand at all. I was simply thrusting my hips back and forth while she held on to my penis. It was infuriating! I saw her yawn, then sigh noisily, before looking at the clock on the wall. She looked up at me with a sleepy smile.

"Still another half-hour till we're finished. We mustn't rush this kind of thing. I want to get as much data as possible."

A half hour? How was I supposed to manage another half hour of this incredibly frustrating teasing? I stopped, yet again her ministrations to the head of my penis forced my hips back into action. She grunted in approval. In desperation, I tried to fool her. After a thrust, I began to pull my hips back, when half-way I immediately reversed and thrust back forward. For one glorious second my shaft slid through that hand. It was wonderful. I needed only a few more of those and I'd get my final release. 

But Dr. Wojcik was not to be fooled. She laughed cheerfully.

"Now that was clever. Naughty, but clever. But I can't allow you to spoil my test in that way."

And so began a prolonged game of cat and mouse, I trying in berserk desperation to screw that sweet, lovely hand that tormented me so, she riding my every thrust and half-thrust, sometimes allowing me a true pump or two, but most of the time just staying with me as I pumped. When I stopped she'd tease and coax me back into action. The sweat poured from me. That hand was all I wanted in the world. I'd never wanted to screw a woman like I wanted that hand at that moment! I was beyond hope. I was moaning constantly now. I found myself begging for release.

"Please, I've got to finish now! I can't stand this any longer."

Dr. Wojcik remained impassive. 

"Oh, don't worry, I am quite fully in control of the situation. Please just leave those decisions to me."

"No, really. This is too much for me. Please let me ejaculate now."

Still no sign of mercy.

"In a few more minutes. We still have a way to go."

I resumed my moaning. 

"NOW! I've got to finish NOW! Please!"

Then, in time with each thrust, I began to beg.

"Please, ...please...please...now...now...please..."

Dr. Wojcik didn't even look at me now, staring at my out-of-control penis as if in a trance.

"No no. A few more minutes. You're doing an excellent job. These results are beyond my expectations. Quite extraordinary. I hope you perform this well every time. By the way, we'll be focussing on this ejaculatory response for the next 4 months."

That was what pushed me over the top, the thought of submitting to this procedure twice a week for the next four months! Four months of teasing, tormenting, embarrassment and humiliation. Locked in this room with a madwoman! Her hands taking possession of my genitals as though they owned them, pushing me to the point where I lost all pretense of pride and self-control. Four months of being milked like a stud horse!

My every muscle stiffened, and my thrusting reached a new intensity. Dr. Wojcik seemed to sense that the moment was at hand, for suddenly she did the opposite of what I expected: she moved her hand against the direction of my thrusts! The transition was intoxicating! Within a few thrusts her hand was slamming back into my pubic bone, then nearly slipping off the head, before the next thrust arrived. I was finally stabbing myself into that wonderful hand. In only six or seven thrusts, I felt a huge pressure build up, then sent a large load of semen flying through the air as I ejaculated. Again and again, I thrust into that warm hand, releasing yet more semen, and Dr. Wojcik continued to gently milk me until I settled back in a satisfied stupor of exhaustion and spent lust.

I closed my eyes and gasped in huge quantities of air. I felt and heard Dr. Wojcik releasing all my restraints, then I wearily stepped down, and began dressing. Dr. Wojcik was already behind her desk, working on her computer. When I was fully clothed once again, I turned and cleared my throat, awaiting dismissal.

Dr. Wojcik didn't even look up.

"You may go."

My brain was blank as I stepped into the corridor, walked down the hall, and silently exited the office. What I had just undergone was beyond my wildest imaginings when I had agreed to participate in this study. I had another four months of this 'ejaculation response study' , then five more of who-knows-what else. Hanging on to my sanity for the next nine months was going to be difficult, I could see that. With a bitter resolve to stay the course, I slowly drove home.

To Be Continued...



In the Hands of Dr. Wojcik Part 2



Chapter 5

The next eight sessions with Dr. Wojcik followed procedures similar to those laid laid out previously. Each time, I was forced to mount the table, allow myself to be strapped in place on the apparatus, then slowly driven to a state of sexual near-madness. I was never allowed to thrust the first time, then positively forced to the second! I hated the control she had over me, and several times resolved ahead of time to not thrust no matter what. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of watching me rut her hand like a stud-horse. But, alas, her ministrations to my member grew increasingly expert as each session passed, and soon she knew exactly what to do to coax out my animal passions.

I dreaded the moment each time when I lost control, and succumbed to my overiding need to begin thrusting. At that moment, her face would invariably light up in a half smile, and she would often say something like, "Mmmmm, that's better", or, "Yes, I knew you needed to do some nice thrusting, didn't you?", or, in a mock-serious tone, "Now now, don't take so long next time, Mr. Douglas! There's no need to be shy here, you know!", followed by a mocking laugh of triumph.

She became increasingly brazen and domineering in her handling of my manhood. Once, her handphone rang in the middle of the first, non-thrusting part of a session. To my utter astonishment, she cradled the phone on her neck, and carried on a perfectly normal-sounding conversation in a thick, strange foreign language, even as she continued her gentle, slow pumping. I could hear a woman's voice on the other end, obviously a friend of hers. On and on she chatted, sometimes laughing, sometimes asking questions, then quickly barking out several observations, while I was still being unceremoniously milked. It was an absurd combination. 

Finallly, she released my shaft, wiped her left hand clean of the white lotion, , then walked over to her desk and picked up her black appointment book. It was placed on the examination table beside my right knee, and then, grasping my penis again with her right hand, she resumed teasing me while talking on the phone and rifling through the pages of her appointment book. It was as though she were churning butter, I thought. When I ejaculated, she didn't even notice until several dollops of warm semen landed on her forearm. Frowning, but still chatting, she quickly pointed my shaft away from her, as I continued to spasm uncontrollably. Then she gingerly grasped my shaft with the tips of the fingers of her left hand, trying to get as little of the whitish lubricant on her fingers as possible, and then scraped the semen off her arm, using my penis as a scraper!

Unfortunately, I was still in the final throes of orgasm, and this scraping created a powerful additional stimulation, and actually induced several more spasms. Consequently, even more scraping was required to remove that new deposit. Just to be sure, she matter-of-factly rubbed what semen remained on her forearm onto my legs. Then, without a further glance at me or my penis, she released my dangling member, sat down behind her desk, lifted her substantial legs onto the seat of the other chair, and, reclining comfortably, carried on with the conversation for another 15 minutes or so, oblivious to my presence. I waited to dismount at her pleasure.

Despite all this I was managing to keep my sanity - barely! I eventually gave up trying to hold off my thrusts, sensing that she enjoyed watching me break down, and instead took the opposite approach. At the beginning of the second session, I began to thrust almost immediately after getting an erection. Yes, I knew just what to do, what my appointed role was, and I guess I finally decided that there was no point in resisting further. My penis belonged in her hand, and once it was returned to its rightful abode, and in a suitably erect state, it was my duty to perform for her as she expected. If she stepped away for a moment or two to attend to the computer, I waited, patiently, then, as soon as she returned and that hand engulfed my member, I immediately resumed a steady humping action. After a while, it almost seemed normal! Amazingly, Dr. Wojcik and I seemed to have established some sort of grim equilibrium.

About the third session, she began to collect my semen. I didn't dare ask why, although I assumed it was for chemical analysis. As I approached the ejaculation point, she would pull a small glass beaker from her labcoat pocket, about two inches high but with a flared neck. I noticed that it was graduated, with the quantities in cc etched in the glass. My ejaculations at first caused some trouble, because the first spurt would often fly out at high speed, followed by a more or less steady stream that tapered off to a dribbble in a few seconds. The first time she attempted the collection, , she held the beaker too low, and the semen shot over the top. The next time she got it right, but the subsequent pumps fell to the floor before she could react. 

Eventually, she got it right, even to the point of adjusting her positioning of the beaker depending on whether it was my first session ejaculation, or the second. It almost became like a game to her. I think she took pride in her skills in catching all of it. Holding the beaker almost horizontal at first, she waited for the first violent spasm to send the white substance shooting forward, then quickly whipped the beaker into position under the head to catch the remainder of the 'drippings'. I wondered why she didn't just stick the head of my penis up against the mouth of the beaker, so as to be sure to not miss anything, but she never did. I suppose she did not wish to contaminate the sample with the white lubricating cream, and so invalidate the chemical analysis. After each collection, she noted the quantity, date, and time on a label, jotted those same details in her notebook, then capped the sample and stored it in a tiny medical freezer located in the far corner of the room. 

This led to an extremely nasty incident that occurred after Dr. Wojcik had collected samples for five weeks or so. I still shudder to think of it. By way of explanation, I must mention that my marriage had broken down almost completely after my trial and subsequent sentencing. My wife had wanted a trial separation, so I had rented a cheap apartment on the other side of town. I sorely missed the sudden loss of sex, so I , ahem, took matters into my own hands, so to speak. With increasing frequency. Despite the maulings I regularly received at the hands of Dr.Wojcik, I still took to beating myself off regularly just to relieve all the tension in my life. 

After one particularly sad and lonely week-end, during which I managed to satisfy myself five times, I arrived Monday afternoon for my regular appointment. After the first session, I noticed Dr. Wojcik frown as she labelled the sperm sample.

"This is not good. You usually provide me with four cc of semen, first session, but today it is only two and a half!"

However, she did not persist any further in the matter, so I thought nothing of it. I quietly sat down and wearily awaited my second session. After I had performed a second time, in the usual manner, Dr.Wojcik measured the second sample. A look of pure alarm spread across her face.

"What is this? Only one and a half cc! Ridiculous! What have you been up to, Mr Douglas?"

I sheepishly just looked at her, with a 'what do you think?' look on my face.

Dr. Wojcik looked flustered and hot. 

"Every session I get at least six cc of semen sample, today only four. At a minimum I smply must have at least five in total. This cannot be allowed. We must continue until we have the full sample."

And with that she angrily walked over to me, and began to roughly resume her pumping of my penis, a penis which had just ejaculated for the second time that afternoon only three minutes earlier! And that, after a weekend of five ejaculations! The agony! The over-stimulation was intolerable. In vain I immediately pleaded for her to stop. Her face was hard with anger. She pumped me angrily, roughly, and her finger pressure on the head of my penis was beyond imagining. No teasing this time. This was sperm extraction, pure and simple.

I screamed out in pain and discomfort, begging her to stop, but her face remained hard.

"This will teach you to waste yourself with your silly activities, when you know what my requirements are! One way or another, you will give me sufficient material for my study!"

And with that she mercilessly pumped away at my poor head - all pain, no pleasure at this point.

I was in a state so desperate that I screamed for help at the top of my lungs, hoping that my violent outburst would shock Dr. Wojcik into stopping. But the lady was not for turning. Only for pumping.

"You can scream all you like, Mr. Douglas. No-one will hear you. This room is completely sound-proofed. Now you'd better focus on giving me more material, because I can keep this up all night if need be."

And so on she went, pumping, twisting the head, roughly yanking on my testicles, finally reaching around and cupping my buttock with her left hand so that she could better slam her hand into the base of my pubic bone on the downstroke. 

I became like a maniac under her ceaseless torture. I couldn't take any more.

"Damn you, you bitch " I shrieked. "You fucking cunt! You're killing me! I can't take anymore! Stop it! Stop it!"

She stopped for a moment, then looked up at me, pure hatred in her eyes. She clenched her teeth, then spoke quietly.

"Calling me names now, are we? It seems to me that the first time we met you called me some names, Mr. Douglas. Apparently you haven't outgrown this nasty habit of yours. Fine. Is that how you want it? Ok, Mr. Douglas, lets see what names you call me now!"

And with that she took both hands and grabbed my abused manhood, one hand mostly on the head, the other on the mid-section. She began to violently twist her hands simultaneously back and forth, in opposite diections, flooding my penile nerve-endings with an wave of extreme stimulation that was monumentally unwelcome. I thrust wildly back and forth, even side-to-side, in an attempt to shake those hands gripping my member like a terrier. To no avail. I bellowed like a castrated bull, but Dr. Wojcik showed no mercy. On and on it went. Tears began to fill my eyes. At last, somehow, I felt a slight pressure building, and out of the depths of my loins I managed to conjure up a weakest-of-all ejaculations, a mere ebb where once there had been a mighty wave. A tiny dribble of sperm popped out, and clung to the head of my penis.

Dr. Wojcik saw it and stopped, breathing heavily, still holding my shaft in both hands. My lungs gasped in huge quantities of air. For several minutes we remained that way, her hands locked on my insane shaft, the sound of our tortured breathing filling the room. I was so exhausted that my chin rested on my chest.

I saw her head lift and look me in the eye, fatigued, but still determined, and for a second I saw the memory of the words I had screamed at her cross her face. A flash of anger boiled to the surface there, and for a terrible instant I thought she was going to resume. I knew the dribble was insufficient to reach the five cc mark. And yet I knew I could not survive any more of this. Somewhere deep in my brain I summoned up what little reserves of rationality were left to me, and whimpered as gently and imploringly as I could.

"I am so sorry about all of this. Please forgive me. I lost my mind there for a moment I don't know what I said. I won't ever do it again, I promise. And I'll make sure you have a good sample from now on. Please. Forgive me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. So sorry."

Dr. Wojcik remained in place, still huffing and puffing heavily, staring at the floor, exhausted. Finally, she released my abused penis, and staggerred over to her desk. She looked as exhausted as I was. She wiped her hands clean, then sat back and closed her eyes. After a moment or two, she seemed to regain some of her composure. Without a word, she staggered over to me and undid my restraints. Then, turning back to her desk, she said in a hoarse whisper, "Go."

I hobbled over to my clothes, then began to dress, but my penis was so tender and sensitive that I had to carefully wrap it in several tissues to protect it form chaffing I slowly dressed, taking great care with my penis while putting on my undershorts. Quietly, I left the room and made my way home, head a'fog with fatigue and shock. 

From that day on, as you can well imagine, I did not dare to masturbate any more. The thought of undergoing that same treatment was enough of an incentive to put an end to that idea once and for all. The whole sorry episode was never mentioned again, nor repeated.

Chapter 6

One day, about three months into the ejaculation sessions, I noticed something different was afoot. I was sent to Room 4d as usual, but as I passed her office, I heard through the slightly open door snatches of conversation between Dr. Wojcik and another woman. It sounded like a heated conversation, almost an argument. I managed to catch just a few few words as I slipped past.

"But Ma'am...", came a pleading voice, in a strange accent quite different from that of Dr. Wojcik's.

"...you must!", replied Dr. Wojcik.

I scurried into Room 4d, and waited for Dr. Wojcik to arrive and begin the session. However, five minutes passed and she did not materialize. Another five minutes passed. This was very strange, for Dr. Wojcik was normally extremely prompt, and would generally arrive and begin the session within a minute or two of my arrival. After another ten minutes, I finally heard the familiar click of the door latch opening and in stepped Dr. Wojcik. She walked to her desk, and turned to look at the door. Nothing. An angry look shot across her face.

"Karida, come in here NOW!"

As I glanced to the door, a dark figure appeared, and stepped quietly into the room. As Dr. Wojcik stood up and walked over to close the door, I gaped in open astonishment at the stranger.

It was a woman. Of that there was no doubt, but she was of a sort I had never personally seen before. She must have been from Saudi Arabia or Syria or some other Arab country, for she was wearing a long black garment, possibly made of silk or some other thin material, which extended nearly to the floor. It had long sleeves, and came snugly up to her neck. Her height was average, her build on the heavy side, from what I could make out from beneath the shapeless garment. Her small brown hands had slim, dainty fingers, and were surprisingly delicate in appearance. Her fingernails were medium length, and she wore no nail polish at all. Most of her head was covered with an off-white headscarf. I had seen some footage on TV of women in Arab countries, and some of them only had small slits to look through, so completely covered were their faces. This was not the case here, for her entire face was visible. I judged her to be about 30 years old. She was undeniably plain, bordering on ugly. She had bulging cheeks, the colour of strong coffee, with a peculiar shine to them. Here eyes were a dull brown colour, with long lashes, and a thick jet-black brow. Her nose I can only describe as pug - wider at the nostrils than it stood out from her face. Her lips were positively annoying to look at, being thick and poorly shapen, and as I stared at her, I noticed that her mouth remained slightly open, revealing several hideously mis-directed upper teeth. I could see little of her hair, due to the scarf wrapped around her very round head. Her neck was short and thick, although her shoulders were quite small. I could tell from her wide hips and large round buttocks that she was well-fed, that much was for sure. Somehow I could tell she had never been married. That was probably why she had pursued a serious career in the first place, I supposed. She stood uneasily near the door, looking nervously towards the ground.

Dr. Wojcik motioned her to sit in the side chair, then slipped behind her desk. After a few moments, she cleared her throat.

"Karida, this is Mr. Douglas. He is the subject of the experiments I was explaining to you earlier. Mr. Douglas, Karida comes to us as part of the International Women's Medical Research Organization, known as IWMRO. She will be with us for two weeks. This organization is dedicated to the promotion of close ties between women from different countries and geographic regions, all of whom are in the medical research field. Karida has been studying neurological science for three years now, and has been accepted into IWMRO's overseas study program. She is here to follow my research closely and gain experience in an actual research environment."

Karida continued to stare impassively at the floor.

"Right, Mr.Douglas, up on the apparatus as usal, please."

My stomach flipped over, then I looked again at Karida. Nothing. No sign of life. Whereas I had lost all embarassment with Dr. Wojcik, I now felt once again the intense pangs of fear. The presence of this creature from another world made me feel doubly vulnerable. With a sinking feeling, I walked to the door, and with my back turned to both of them, quickly and effeciently shed my clothes and arranged them neatly in the usual fashion. Then, I reluctantly turned, shuffled despondently up to the table, and, once again conscious of my indignity, clamoured up onto the apparatus. Karida was standing at right angles to me, and as such I was not in her direct field of vision. She continued to stare at the floor as Dr. Wojcik strapped me into position and attached the headgear as usual, eyes never wavering, never glancing over to me even for an instant. The thought of being exposed and milked in front of this woman was too awful to contemplate. Dr. Wojcik returned to her desk, and tapped a few commands into the computer. Then she called Karida over to her.

"See this set of lines here? These are his current brainwave oscillations. These red lines here are the extremes reached during normal activity. As the session progresses, you will see these boundaries exceeded on a regular basis. Let's get started."

With that she lubricated her hands as usual, then approached me from the front. Karida remained at the desk, eyes rivetted to the computer screen.

Dr. Wojcik turned, and with an irritated look on her face, looked over her shoulder.

"Come over here now, Karida!"

Karida hesitated for a moment, then, eyes still down, shuffled slowly over behind Dr. Wojcik.

"No, stand over here." Dr. Wojcik commanded, taking Karida by the arm and pulling her across in front of me, so that Dr. Wojcik stood to my right, Karida to my left. The eyes were still on the floor.

"Look here!" Dr. Wojcik barked.

Nothing. Eyes remained tied to the floor.

"Karida, watch what I'm doing here. You must observe the experiments closely if you are to learn anything."

Finally, there was a response, in a trembling, plaintive voice that was near to tears.

"But Ma'am, I cannot. Forbidden. I no talk to no man in my country. Touch ......no no no. This I cannot do."

Dr. Wojcik was unyielding.

"This is not your country. We do things differently here. We are open about such matters. Your government has paid considerable sums of money for you to participate in this program, and I don't think they would be pleased to know that you were unco-operative, for whatever reason. I know for a fact that your family would suffer as a result of your unco-operative attitude. Now I want you to observe what is going on here this minute, or else I shall be forced to terminate your involvement in this project and notify your embassy of your difficult attitude. Now, is that what you want?"

"No, Ma'am."




In the Hands of Dr. Wojcik Part 2



"Fine. Then watch closely what I am doing."

Looking down, I saw the cloth-covered head slowly lift, until it was upright. The eyes were still looking down, but as I watched, they were slowly raised, first taking in my knees, then the thighs. As they finally rested on my genitals, I saw her eyes widen, and she let out a small gasp. Her mouth fell open a little further than before. The eyes shifted from front to back, as she took in the penis and then the hanging testicles, then back to the front again as she scrutinized my penis more carefully. So transfixed was she by the sight that I think she temporarily forgot who or where she was. She clearly had never seen a man's equipment before, and it was a strange sensation to see those naieve eyes takng it all in for the first time. Her expression was one of morbid and revolted curiosity, as though she were looking at a dead poisinous snake. Only this snake was very much alive. Of course I was still flaccid at this point, and as I shifted my position slightly I caused my penis to sway a little, from side to side. The eyes moved from side to side in tandem. The snake was charming the charmer. I could feel here eyes examining me.

Dr. Wojcik grasped my testicles with her left hand, and as usual began to tug and pull gently, kneading the cream into the scrotum. The eyes watched, transfixed. Then the right hand followed, taking the penis, slowly working the cream in, twisting, rubbing, then beginning a gentle pumping action. I could sense how obscene it must look to Karida. As I watched, I saw a bead of perspiration trickle down the side of her face. With a start, I detected a fairly strong smell of body odour, and realized that it came from her. She looked as though she were going to bolt from the room at any moment. Dr Wojcik must have sensed the same thing, for she asked Karida to go to the computer and read out the peak oscillation values. 

I didn't know what to do. It was like I was back to square one, once again fighting the urge to become erect and thrust. I looked down at Dr. Wojcik. To my surprise, she was not looking at me, but had her head turned and was observing Karida over at the computer. When Karida had finished reading off the values to Dr. Wojcik, she took her eyes off the computer screen for a moment and glanced involuntarily at me. Dr. Wojcik noted it with her usual half-smaile. She instructed Karida to resume her place beside me.

Dr. Wojcik's ministrations began to have a predictable effect. As I hardened I was unable to keep my eyes off of Karida's face. It seemed flushed and sticky with perspiration, and I saw a wet stain appear under her armpits, slowly spreading like an oil slick in the dark fabric. She held her hands tightly clasped in front of her, and stared, not moving. 

I was fully erect now, and began to feel once agan the need to thrust. But I held back. So far, I had been an involuntary accomplice in this indecent exposure to Karida. I wanted above all else to remain that way, simply a piece of male meat, a picture, or a sculpture. An object, OK, but not a participant. That would be going too far. Yet I knew that I couldn't hold off too long.

To my surprise, Dr. Wojcik ceased her activity and proceeeded to tighten the seat pad behind me fully. Usualy she waited for me to thrust first. I was both relieved that I hadn't had to humiliate myself in front of Karida, and mortified at my further exposure, and the obscene manner in which my shaft was sticking straight out into space just a few inches from Karida's now not-so-innocent eyes. Dr. Wojcik was lined up in such a manner that I was sure that my penis was directly in line between their two sets of eyes, so that Dr. Wojcik could observe both my penis and Karida's eyes simultaneously without moving her head or eyes. She continued the stimulation. I was a minute or so away from release.

Dr. Wojcik stopped abruptly, released my penis, then carefully watched it twitch and flop about as it strove to complete the uncompleteable. Karida watched in undisguised fearful fascination. Dr. Wojcik straightened up and walked over to the table, then returned with the jar of ointment. She looked sternly at Karida.

"Now it's your turn. Put some of this on both your hands."

Karida's hands fell to her side, as if she didn't know what to do with them, and her eyes bulged out as if she had seen a ghost. Her lips began to form a word, yet no sound came out. I could hear her breathing rapidly, and a large trickle of sweat slid down her face. Suddenly, I saw her eyes become glassy and fill with tears. One spilled over and slid down her face beside the trickle of sweat. She looked the very picture of misery and despair.

Before she could react further, Dr. Wojcik reached forward, and takng each hand one by one, dipped them into the canister of white cream. She then took Karida's left hand in hers, and guided it towards my testicles. Karida stared trance-like at her hand, being pulled towards a rendez-vous with the forbidden. I sensed that she was holding back a little, but Dr. Wojcik clearly held her in a vise-like grip. Karida's eyes were once again fixed firmly on the floor, and her face had an expression of distaste and revulsion similar to that of someone required to clean a toilet for the first time. Dr. Wojcik for once didn't notice, as her eyes were fixed on the hand she was guiding mercilessly towards its doom.

Before the hand reached the testicles, Dr. Wojcik stopped, reconsidered, then gently placed Karida's hand against my upper left thigh, about three inches below my genitals. I felt with a certain amount of pleasure the soft gentleness of Karida's little fingers against my flesh, the light pressure of the palm, the warmth, the delicacy. Somehow her hand felt innocent, virginal. It remained absolutely still and limp. With her hand still on top of Karida's, Dr. Wojcik began to massage my upper thigh, moving the hand back and forth, up and down, then further in to gently rub the lower buttocks. Karida let out a pathetic, sad whimper. Dr.Wojcik moved the hand to the front of the thigh, then around and up to the hip, and onto the belly.

"Karida, open up you fingers please."

Karida's fingers relaxed and then spread out from each other. Dr. Wojcik began to move the hand down into the edges of my pubic hair, combing it a little with Karida's fingers. I could feel a shudder go through her. Deeper and deeper, until her fingers were full of my hair, fingertips gently butting up against the base of my shaft. Karida's eyes were fixed shut. Dr. Wojcik brought her hands round the side again, then back to the thigh. 

I looked at Dr. Wojcik. Her eyes were burning with a glorious intensity that I had not seen before, as her hand guided Karida's hand about. Finally, with a flourish, Dr. Wojcik removed Karida's hand from my thigh.

"Move in closer please, Karida."

Karida seemed to mwake from her reverie, and, like a zombie, took a final step forward. Her right arm was leaning lightly against my thigh, and even though it was fully clothed, I could sense the warmth pressing through the thin fabric. Her eyes were wide now, anticipating with horror what was to come.

With a dramatic flair more akin to that of a magician than a medical researcher, Dr. Wojcik re-dipped Karida's hand into the cannister of white cream, then slowly brought the palm into position below my testicles. I waited for contact, penis stabbing straight out. Up came the hand, slowly. The first warning of impending contact from several of my long scrotal hairs, as I felt them move slightly. Then more of them moved, pressed upwards by the arriving hand. Finally, I felt the first contact of a finger on my scrotum. Karida audibly sucked in her breath. She stared with incredulity at what her own hand was doing. Further up came the hand, now several fingers in contact, now the palm. The hand was pushed further up by Dr. Wojcik, yet it remained limp. A shadow fell across Dr. Wojcik's face.

"Grasp the scrotum firmly please, Karida. Yes, that's it. Now begin to gently pull on it, massage the cream in."

Dr. Wojcik released the hand. It remained in place, pressed genly upwards. There was a pause, the slowly, the fingers began to move, first pressing lightly into my scrotum, then slowly encircling it. The fingertips began to gently slide over my skin, , here and there, exploring each testicle in turn, as they were being lightly squeezed and examined. The scotal skin was lightly pinched, then a gentle twisting and pulling action initiated. Karida stared intently at my shaft as it bobbed and swayed, now pointing directly at her face. Dr. Wojcik watched the proceedings like a worried mother hen.

"Now grasp the penis gently with your other hand, Karida."

Reluctantly, up came the other hand. Those slim fingers tentatively encircled my shaft, near the base, with a light, trembling touch. I stiffened noticeably. Karida moaned under her breath.

"Begin stroking, please", Dr. Wojcik ordered.

The hand moved up to just under the head, then stopped.

"All the way to the end, then back again!" 

Dr. Wojcik moved behind her desk, and began observing the computer screen.

Over the head the fingers slipped, then back to the base. I could almost feel her revulsion. She began a slow stroking action, and I could tell how inexpert she was, because she stopped at the beginning and the end of each pump, in a completely irregular fashion, so that there was no rhythm, no steadiness at all. I couldn't get into it, if you know what I mean. Furthermore, as the pumps continued, she began to tire, and her hand began to droop lower and lower. Before long, instead of angling upwards near vertically, my shaft was horizontal, then pointing downwards, until I was at a 45 degree angle downwards. And yet further down I went, until, impossibly, I was almost pointing down to the floor! Karida switched the position of her hand, so that her thumb was now closest to the base, and her baby finger nearest the head. Pointing down as I was, I realized with a shock that I was exactly situated as a cow would be during milking! Dr. Wojcik glanced up, and saw what was going on, the crazy angle of my shaft, Karida's posture and hand positions, and suddenly a crafty smile lit up her face.

"Karida, you look like you're milking a cow. Have you milked cows before?"

"No, Ma'am, cows, no, but goats, yes. When I was child, in my village."

Dr. Wojcik had a look of fascination on her face.

"And when you milked those goats, Karida, how many teats did you milk at once?"

Karida looked bewildered.

"Two, Ma'am, one each hand."

Dr. Wojcik looked bemused. She stood up and walked over to Karida, then took both her hands in her own.

"Then that is just what you must do now. This is just the same as milking a goat."

She gently detached Karida's left hand from my scrotum, then the right from the penis, and then pulled her gently to one side. Going around behind me, I heard the seat pad being loosened, then heavy breathing as Dr. Wojcik turned the winch handle, until all contact disappeared. Then she brought the step-stool out from behind her desk, and rolled it up in front of me. She climbed up and began to loosen all my arm-straps. Once completed, she proceeded to lower the arm rests a foot or so, then tightened them back into place. To my surprise, I discovered that the arm rests were actually mounted on a steel tube which itself was housed in another larger diameter steel tube. By releasing a catch, the arm rests were able to telescopically slide forward about a foot and a half, so that they were now below and in front of me. I suddenly had a nasty feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Right, Mr. Douglas, please lean forward and rest your forearms back on these arm rests again."

I reluctantly leaned forward, and awkwardly let my weight fall onto the arm rests. Dr. Wojcik quickly strapped my arms down again. I was still on my knees, but my back was now horizontal to the floor, weight leaning forward. For a moment I thought that my position and the leverage involved would cause the entire examination table to be pulled over, but evidently it was either heavily weighted, or securely bolted to the floor, and everything was constructed of such thick steel that, other than a creak and groan or two, there was scarcely any movement in the structure at all. Dr. Wojcik was evidently dissatisfied with this setup, for she almost immediately undid the restraints, undid my feet clasps, and instructed me to get down, which I did, taking care to not tangle the wires attached to my headpiece. She proceeded to completely remove the back rest and the seat pad from the steel vertical pipe, so as to allow the arm-rests to slide all the way down to the padded surface of the examination table. Then, she slid them as far forward as possible. I was instructed to re-mount, after which I leaned far forward, and settled my arms on the rests once again. After strapping my arms in place, and locking my feet in place, Dr. Wojcik eyed my position.

I was in the exact opposite posture to that experienced previously. Then, my back was arched, now, I was sharply bent over. My buttocks were now the high point of my body, and my back sloped down at a steep angle. My head could be lifted up at great effort only, and I quickly tired and let it hang down. I was so steeply angled that I found mnyself looking back at my own genitals, everything upside down! And my genitals, far from being thrust forward and exposed, were now tucked up tightly into the juncture of my legs and my abdomen. I could see my chest and abdomen rising and fallin with my breathing. 

I heard Dr. Wojcik approach, then felt her hand on my back. She spoke, and as she did she patted my back once or twice, like a car salesman thumping on the hood of a car to a prospective buyer.

"I am sure this is more like what you're used to Karida. Now, slide in there beside him, and sit yourelf up on the exam table"

She squeezed Karida past my arms, into the space provided by the section of the table that was always removed. I could feel her abdomen lightly grazing my side, before she tucked her skirt tightly between her legs, and lifted herself up onto the padded table. Her knees were now directly below my belly, her left leg resting against my right knee. I could see her legs and feet - upside down of course, and I noticed that the act of getting onto the table had caused her dress, or gown, or whatever it was, to ride up about eight inches or so, revealing a bit of her legs. I was startled to see them lightly covered with thick black hairs. Because her gown was tucked tightly between her legs, it actually became quite a tight-fitting garment, and I could clearly see the shape of her abdomen, crotch, and thick legs. Her right hand rested on the table beside her, but her left could not do so because of the presence of my right leg, so it rested on the back of my thigh, just above the knee. I could see her belly from my vantage point, but that was all, and I realized that her chest must be level with my side and her head must be looking out over my back. Must have a great view of my bottom, I realized. I heard Dr. Wojcik clear her throat.

"That's better , is it Karida? More what you're used to, I suppose?"

Silence.

I heard Dr. Wojcik's footsteps take her back to the desk. There followed the sound of the keyboard being tapped. After a moment or two, Dr. Wojcik gave instructions to Karida.

"Right, lets resume where we left off. Begin the same activity , Karida, and please maintain a steady, repetitous action. And bring your left hand up to massage that scrotum again, please. It needs attention too. You may begin now."

I waited, resigning my self to what was about to happen.

It is one thing to have your penis grasped while thrusting out forward in front of you. Then, the penis fairly demands to be grasped, it stabs into the air as if to say, 'Here I am. See how stiff and proud I am! Come get me!' It is quite another when you are in the position I found myself in. I felt like my penis was being hidden and protected, retracted out of harms way. And yet, as I watched from my inverted position, in came this hand, this intruder, violating my private space to grasp my now-shrunken member. She began to rhythmically tug on my penis, pulling it straight up and down, and I was startled when an instant later her left hand reached around my right leg and up to grasp my scrotum. And not lightly either. Her thumb and index finger formed a ring which tightly encircled my scrotum, up high near my pubic bone, so that my testicles bulged out beneath, trapped as it were. She began to tug there as well, and believe me, I knew that there was no way I was going to resist her in any way, not with those fingers so fully in control of my testicles. Each tug was on the verge of being painful, and occasionally she would bring her baby finger up to gently scratch the scrotum even as the tugging continued. Her left breast was now pressed against my right thigh, and it rubbed gently there as the steady pumping continued. As I watched both hands pumping, I was struck with the similarity to a cow or goat being milked. I began to harden quickly, almost painfully.. Her downstroke had a much tighter grip than her upstroke, and this, in combination with the effect of gravity, soon caused my penis' head to bulge out quite beyond anything I had ever experienced before. The rim of the head now stood out fully a third of an inch or so wider than the shaft itself, giving the whole thing more the appearance of a mushroom than, say, a bananna. I began to fear something internal would burst!

I soon discovered that there was to be no thrusting for this particular goat. As the stimulation began to overcome me as usual, I started to test the waters, so to speak, by giving my hips little tremors and mini-thrusts, in time with the pumps, in an effort to get something going. WHAM! An electric pulse of pain fried my genitals as Karida firmly wrenched my scrotum back into place while at the same time giving my testicles a crushing squeeze. I yelped like a dog whose tail has been stepped on, and for a second, I thought I was going to pass out from the pain. I froze in position,waiting for the pain to subside, even as Karida resumed her manipulations. I had suddenly gained a new respect for Karida. Far from wanting to thrust, at this point I was afraid to give Karida the impression that I had thrusted, and thus bring on another wrench on my poor gonads. 

I heard Dr. Wojcik's feet arrive on my other side.

"Anything wrong, Karida?"

"No, Ma'am. Just like milking goat. When goat bad, I make her behave. I do same thing here, Ma'am."

I could just imagine how Dr. Wojcik must have been beaming with joy at that one!

"Well, Karida, we mustn't be too strict with him. He does need room to move a bit, you know. Please allow him to move about a little. It is good for the test results."

I could see Dr. Wojcik's legs beside me with my side vision, and was surprised to notice that her right hand had a medical examination glove on. She squeezed herself into the space on my other side, opposite Karida, and then she too lifted herself up onto the exam table. Her left hand reached under my belly, below Karida's hand, and held the glass beaker under my shaft. Then, with some alarm, I felt her right hand rest casually on my buttocks. Her palm was on my left cheek, with her fingers a few inches from my anus. As Karida pumped me, I felt those fingers tapping, drumming restlessly on my buttock. Dr. Wojcik removed her right hand in order to shift her seating position a little bit, and when the hand was brought back to my bottom, it was placed so that the middle finger was resting just on the edge of my anus. The drumming resumed. Imperceptibly, but steadily, the hand edged closer and closer, until the finger totally covered my anus. It tapped. I instinctively puckered my anus. Again the hand withdrew. 




In the Hands of Dr. Wojcik Part 2



When it returned a moment later, I immediately felt a cool, moist sensation, and realized that Dr. Wojcik had applied the white cream to the gloved index finger. Furthermore, it was obvious from the manner in which it zeroed in on my anus that there was something deliberate going on here. The finger began to slowly rub the cream around my anus, all over.

Despite myself, I became tremendously aroused. I knew that Karida must be a ble to see all of this, and the embarassment added to the arousal. As usaul, when confronted with overwhelming arousal, I began to thrust, imperceptibly at first, and then, as there was no repeat of the scrotum-wrenching incident, allowing myself to let go. My thrusts were unusual due to my somewhat inverted position. I couldn't really thrust my penis forward: instead, I had to be satisfied with rocking my hips back and forth. Dr. Wojcik's finger began to gradually synchronize itself with Karida's pumping., rubbing back and forth across the anus in time. I tried to kind of close my buttock cheeks together to maintain a little dignity, but soon tired of the unaccustomed muscular tightening, and was forced to relax my cheeks wide. The finger continued its rubbing. I was powerless to stop the molestation. 

Then, as my thrusts continued, the finger began to penetrate me. I felt it begin to push a little more firmly on my anus, then firmer still, beginning to probe. More presure still, until the tip began to part my anal orifice. The finger went with me as I thrust myself forward, but each time I pulled back the finger pushed back a little, gaining ground, sliding in deeper and deeper, sometimes twisting back and forth. I felt undeniably violated, this thing entering into my body, yet I was powerless to stop it. The finger kept on rubbing, sometimes sliding completely out, before re-entering to probe a little deeper. I instinctively tightened my anus, but was unable to stop the progress of the finger, as it lightly probed, then retreated, in time with my own thrusting. I was powerless to stop my own rutting. I was the agent of my own anal violation!

This extra stimulation aroused me to the point where I knew I was close to ejaculation. . Karida carried on as usual, the head of my penis now like a purple inky-cap mushroom in her hand. 

Soon half of Dr. Wojcik's finger was inserted. Yet on she went, further and further. I wanted above all to expell that thing from my anus, that thing which should not be there, yet which remained, brazenly pushing further and further into my most private of places. Finally, I felt that Dr. Wojcik had fully inserted it. As Karida maintained a pumping action, I began to notice that the finger was applying pressure against my prostate gland in addition to her pumpings. My embarassment was total.

From my inverted vantage point I could see my penis being submerged into that brown little hand, head poking out occasionally, semen beginning to ooze out into the bottle. Her pumping never slackened, nor did the tugging on my scrotum. An efficient milker. I began to sweat. Several ounces of homegenized were on the way.

With an uncontrollable moan, I unleashed the hounds of lust, and discharged my first spasm into the bottle, then another. Karida continued to pump away, and I was fearful of over-stimulation, until Dr. Wojcik, noticing what was going on, ordered her to stop. 

They both got down, while I remained in position. Dr. Wojcik showed Karida the computer results, and they discussed it quietly for twenty minutes or so. I began to get sore from the pressure on my knees and arms. Still, I was paid no attention at all. Finally, after a half hour, Dr. Wojcik and Karida returned for the second session. It proceeded much like the first, except that this time Dr. Wojcik did not contribute her finger pressure as before, and indeed did not even hold the bottle to collect the semen. Karida did that herself. When it was over, Dr. Wojcik grunted in satisfaction, and instructed me to get down. As I left I heard them deep in discussion, and I got the sense that Karida had quickly overcome her initial revulsion, and was now quite capable of handling the situation.

The next few sessions proceeded in a similar fashion. Karida became quite adept at handling my manhood, and was soon able to tug on it quite as enthusiastically as Dr. Wojcik. She was a little rough at times, but at least she didn't tease me as Dr. Wojcik did.

The fourth session, something unusual happenned. As soon as Dr. Wojcik and Karida entered the room, Dr. Wojcik explained that she had an important meeting to attend, and would be back shortly near the end of the second session. After cautioning Karida to allow me at least thity minutes between sessions to recuperate, and checking that the computer was properly set up to record the results, she left. The first session began.

Everything was normal until about half-way through. Then, I noticed something strange. Karida got up and turned off the main lights, and the powerful mobile light, so that the room was only illuminated by a small table light on Dr. Wojcik's desk. Next, she brought from her purse a necklace, made of thin gold chain, which she clasped around my neck. I thought it very odd indeed, but kept silent. After all, my genitals were at her mercy, and I certainly didn't want to anger her. She took from her bag a piece of black cloth, about one foot square, with a hole near the top, and proceeded to tuck it into the necklace like a bib, so that it hung down in front of my face. I was still able to see around it on either side, however. When she resumed her seat beside me, I noticed in the near-darkness that she had shifted her dress up at the back, so that it now exposed her legs up just past the knees. Not that there was much of anything to see in the near darkness, just the coffee-coloured outline of her legs below the black hem of her garment. I thought it strange, but was soon distracted by the sensation of her hand on my shaft doing its usual work. I could see her arm moving, but the black cloth blocked my view of her fingers. Then, I noticed something moving, and was shocked to make out the form of her left hand lifting her dress up, all the way to the top. Her huge white panties were visible, almost luminescent in the darkness. She shifted her weight to one of her cheeks, and pulled the panties down on that side. Then she did the same with other, until they slid down to her ankles. I could just make out the form of the black hairy triangle between her legs in the darkness. My erection surged.

Her pumping resumed, and as it did her left hand moved from my scrotum into her crotch. I could see her fingers pressing into herself, then rubbing gently up and down in the quietness. I presumed that she thought I couldn't see anything, but as my eyes became better accustomed to the darkness, her self-love became increasingly clear. With some straining, I could actually make out the form of some individual hairs, long thick black ones, as she ruffled them back and forth. Harder and harder her hand movements became, two fingers now sliding up and down at an increasingly frantic pace, pressing down hard. Sandwhiched between them I thought I could make out the form of her clitoris, as it was buffetted up and down. I could now even make out the sound of her fingers rubbing her sex into life.

As she grew more frantic, her attention to my shaft began to disappear. She was simply holding it tightly, occasionally pumping it, but more in a manner of someone fondling it for her enjoyment than mine. The unmistakeable scent of a woman's sexual lubricant began to waft towards me. I breathed it in deeply, almost tasting its aroma. I was keenly aware that my stiffened shaft was only a foot or so away from the black triangular forest being pleasured below. 

Finally, Karida's lust overcame her desire for secrecy. She got down off the edge of the table, kicked off her panties, and slid herself past me. As she stood in front of me, I raised my head, difficult though it was with the weight of the headgear and all the attendant wires, and glanced at her. She was staring at me with a dazed look on her face.

"You stay quiet, OK? You no tell Mrs. Doctor, OK? Secret. You and me, we keep secret? Ok?"

I had no idea what she was up to, but I nodded my head weakly anyhow. Then I let my strained neck muscles relax, and let my head hang down again.

Karida walked around the table, and I could see her line herself up behind me by looking between my legs. She gave my testicles and penis a quick groping fondle, then stepped back. She stood up on the step-stool, and awkwardly clambered up onto the table directly behind me. First one, then the other leg was inserted into the space between my legs, after which she seated herself on the edge of the table between and behind them. My penis was hanging down in her lap now. Quickly, she hoisted up her dress again, and pulled my penis straight down. I felt the head brush into the black triangle. She gave me a few pumps, then shifted her weight a little. I gave a little thrust of the hips forward, driving the head over the clitoris and down between the labia. Karida let out an intense moan. I could feel her wetness, and began to hump up and down as best I could, driving the shaft over the clitoris, head back and forth between those lips, over the opening of the vagina. If only my penis made a ninety degree bend, I thought, I could actually enter her, but as it was, I could only thrust a little back and forth between her lips, like a wiener in a bun. Still, it was quite a sensation, plunging into that black tangled growth, feeling her warmth, listening to her moans of excitement. She clearly didn't want me to penetrate her, and I was in no position to insist..Soon she began to buck and thrust her hips in time with my movements, one hand gripping my penis while the other was on my scrotum. She was using me as a dildo! On and on it went. As I felt orgasm approaching, I tried to warn her that it was close.

"Now! Bottle, Karida! Quickly! You need bottle soon!"

But she was beyond that, in a world of sexual awakening that she had never experienced before. Completely ignoring my warning, she redoubled her efforts, bouncing her hips, holding my penis as though it were a ticket to paradise, which I guess it was for her, then pulling it back and forth, side to side, across her clitoris, rising to ever increasing heights of pleasure. Soon, I could wait no longer, and began to discharge myself onto her sex. She immediately used the head to spread the semen around, on all sides of her clitoris and down between the lips, then continued to massage herself with it even after I had finished. For a full five minutes she continued, before closing her legs tightly together, wrapping my shaft between her lips again, holding it tightly in place there, and slumping her body against my backside in an exhausted embrace. 

She lay there and I supported the weight of both of us while she cooled down. After another five minutes, the sound of her regular breathing alerted me to the fact that she was asleep! A panic overcame me as I realized that if Dr. Wojcik walked in on us now, it would spell disaster for the both of us. I pulled myself back, retrieving my softening penis from between her legs, and coughed loudly. She awoke with a start. I heard her mutter something incomprehensible, then quickly clamour out from between my legs. She quickly came round the front, and put her panties back on. Then, switching the lights back on, she gathered the bottle and began to carefully scrape what little semen remained on my penis into the bottle. It was clearly insufficient for Dr. Wojcik's needs, so she lifted her dress, pulled down her panties, and proceeeded to use her fingertips to scrape as much semen from there as she could. She quickly labelled the contents, and thrust it far into the back of Dr. Wojcik's mini-refridgerator. Then she left the room for twenty minutes.

When she returned, her mood had changed completely. She seemed almost angry now, more at herself than at me. She proceeded to inspect the table, the floor, and myself, for any evidence of what had gone on. Carefully, she plucked several long black pubic hairs off my penis, and placed them carefully in her purse. The necklace and the black cloth were similarly tucked away. Then, when she was satisfied that all was well, she proceeded with the second session, no 'extra-curricular activities' this time, and was nearing completion when Dr. Wojcik returned.

Dr Wojcik asked a few brief questions, then retreated behind her desk while I gave the second sample. She was very busy reading an enormous pile of documents which she retreived from her briefcase, and didn't even look our way. Karida effeciently finished up, labelled the new sample, released my restraints, and sent me on my way. 

To this day I don't think Dr. Wojcik has any inkling of what went on that day. Karida stayed on for another three weeks, then returned home. I often lay awake at night after that, wondering if she would ever be with a man again. Perhaps she too lay awake at night, re-living those few minutes together. Perhaps in her dreams I am her true lover, the first one, and the only one to ever drive my manhood into her virginal femininity, her secret place seen and touched by no other. Somehow, the thought always gave me comfort during those dark hours when I lay alone in bed, thinking of life and the strange twists it sometimes takes.

Chapter 7

Two weeks after Karida's exit, I arrived in Room 4d to discover that my world had changed. No longer was the apparatus attached to the examination table. The missing center section was back in place. All appeared as it had been before the 'ejaculation response' tests had begun. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. At last! I had survived. No more humiliating tests, no more over-stimulation, no more fingers up the bum! It was over. What could be next? Blinking? Holy smokes, what if it were tickling? Or maybe back to sneezing or coughing? Who cares? As long as I don't have to go through that anymore! A feeling of elation came over me. I almost broke out into a whistle, then thought better of it.

I hardly had had time to ponder things when Dr. Wojcik opened the door and confidently strolled in. She was followed by three oriental women. They all dressed in identical outfits, consisting of black shoes, navy blue medium-length skirts, and white blouses buttoned up high by the necks. One seemed to be about forty, the other two nearer twenty five. The older woman was medium built, with a face that I would call pleasant, but not pretty. Her hair was neatly tied up in a bun. She looked intelligent. Of the other two, one was quite tall and slim, long hair, with a plain although not ugly face, and a few misshapen teeth. The other was so unusually average in all respects that I cannot remember any significant details concerning her at all.

Dr. Wojcik made the introductions.

"Mr. Douglas, I'd like you to meet these three ladies from IWMRO Japan." 

I quickly learned that the older lady was called Hiroko, the tall one Keiko, and the other plain girl Midori. We exchanged quick 'Hellos'. They spoke passable English.

Dr. Wojcik quickly went to work on her computer, showing the guests the results so far. They smiled and seemed duly impressed.

After a few minutes of this, Dr. Wojcik looked my way.

"Please strip down to your underwear, Mr. Douglas, then lie down on the examination table."

After I had done so, she rose to her feet and approached me, beckoning to the Japanese ladies to follow her. Reaching into a drawer, she removed two straps similar to those which had secured my arms to the apparatus in previous sessions. And indeed they served the same purpose, for they were secured around my wrists and then hooked onto small metal connectors protruding from the side of the table. Then, from behind the door she lifted a large contraption. It consisted of a tall roll of white canvas, at least five feet tall, rolled around a wooden pole, and atttached to another wooden pole on the other edge. I looked just like a huge scroll of canvas. The wooden pole visible on the outside had a number of small steel rings attached at intervals along one side. Heaving it onto her shoulders, she brought it over to me, plopping it loudly onto the floor. I heard her attaching something, and was bold enough to peep over the edge of the table to investigate. I saw that she was hooking the steel rings onto more of the same metal protrusions lined up along the bottom of the table. 

Motioning to Midori to pick up the end of the internal pole, Dr. Wojcik grabbed the other end, and together they proceeded to lift the roll of canvas, unrolling it as they did so, then brought it up and over my body, walking around the ends of the table, then back and down again on the other side. It extended from the center of my chest to just above my feet. They let the other pole drop, but the canvas was not sufficiently long for it to reach the floor. I noticed that in the center of the canvas, a hole of some four inches diameter had been removed, and had been replaced with a shiny white silk-like fabric. This fabric was sewed tightly to the canvas, and it too had a small circular hole in its center, of perhaps the thickness of a pencil. The edge of this center section had been folded over a short way and sewn to form a thin tube, through which a white draw cord was inserted, with the two ends exiting the tube at the bottom. This draw cord had been pulled tight, bunching up the white fabric, and a huge bow held it tight. It reminded me of the leather bag which sometimes is attached to the bottom of a manual transmission gearshift, without the gearshift, that is. It was positioned six or seven inches below my genitals.

Walking around the examination table to stand at my feet, Dr. Wojcik slid both hands under the canvas, then continued, arms all the way in now, until I felt her hands sliding up my outer thighs. Further still, until her hands were up to my waist. The canvas at my feet was now bunching up at her chest. She grasped the waistband of my underwear, and carefully pulled down. There was a moment of discomfort as the waistband passed my penis. It had been laying on my stomach, pointing towards my head, and as the waistband slid south, it caught the penis and forced it to bend over backwards, now pointing to my feet. The undershorts were pulled down to my feet, out from underneath the canvas, and left there. By inclining my head I could see them there, wrapped around my feet. I was dismayed to notice that there was a very visible urine-stain in the center. I observed the Japanese ladies eyeing it with great interest. My manhood made only a small bump on the tough canvas surface. 

Dr. Wojcik walked around the table, positioning herself behind my head, and then, leaning over me, grasped the edge of the canvas. I felt her stomach pressing against the top of my head, her bust filling my view. She pulled the canvas higher a few inches, then a few more, centering the 'gearshift bag' over my genitals, the upper edge of the 'scroll' now just under my chin. Walking around to the side where the canvas had not yet been fastened, she bent down and proceeded to go through various mechanical operations. Eventually, through the continuous tightening and re-tightening of various straps attached to the bottom of the table, she was able to pull the canvas down snugly over my entire body. I felt securely pinned down, but not uncomfortable, as the pressure was spread out over my entire body. My genitals were under no pressure whatsoever, relaxed in the roomy confines of the gearshift bag. Looking down over my torso, it looked like a small white mountain standing out over the white, flat plain of the canvas. It looked so far away, that mountain. Far away, behind it, I could see my feet protruding out from underneath the canvas, soiled white underwear still on display. Dr. Wojcik surveyed my positioning, and gave a grunt of satisfaction. The Japanese ladies gathered around, faces beaming in permanent smiles, watching everything in fascination. The last item to be installed was the headgrear, as usual.




In the Hands of Dr. Wojcik Part 2



Dr. Wojcik returned to her desk, checked a few things on her computer, then reached down and opened a drawer. She lifted out two objects, and brought them over to the table. She set them down on my chest while she walked over to the cabinet, returning with the white cream I'd grown so accustomed to. My heart sank. Of the two items, one seemed to ressemble a large silver flashlight, but with a clear, solid rubber or plastic ball mounted on the end and an electrical cord dangling from the other. It seemed to be of a very high quality, medical grade. The other apparatus was confusing, to say the least. I consisted of a brushed stainless steel ring, perhaps a little over an inch in diameter. Although the shape was round, the ring was slightly flattenned, much like a copper pumbing fitting, so that it was perhapes half an inch tall when lying flat on the table. It had a generally smooth appearance. To this ring, at four equidistant points around the circumference, were welded or soldered small rings of perhaps .25" diameter. Through each ring was attached a thin steel cable, similar to that used in bicycle gearing. The end of each cable, which I judged were a yard or so in length, was run through the end of a ten-inch long stainless steel pin, with a screw adjustment which allowed the cable to be clamped in position at whichever point the user desired. What it was for, I hadn't a clue. I grimly awaited the revelation of its purpose. 

Dr. Wojcik leaned down, and plugged the silver flashlight-like instrument into an electrical outlet. Then she spoke.

"As I mentioned to you earlier, the male ejaculatory response has provided me with a great deal of useful data. Today, I intend to change the proceedings somewhat. Previous sessions tested the response to a rhythmic, pumping action, similar to that normally experienced during intercourse. Unfortunately, this regular pumping action has itself created strong brainwave patterns, masking and sometimes overwhelming the brainwaves associated with the ejaculation response. You see, the frequency of the human ejaculation response is nearly identical to the thrusting action which accompanies it. To this end, I have decided to stimulate the subject's genitals with a frequency hundreds if not thousands of times faster than normal ejaculation. Certainly, the frequency of the stimulation will be recorded in the brainwave patterns, but with a little bit of filtering from the computer we can completely eliminate it from our results later on, leaving only pure ejaculatory brainwave patterns to analyse. Any questions?"

The Japanese ladies loooked at one another, questioningly. A brief discussion in Japanese ensued. Then, Hiroko spoke, hesitantly.

"E..........e...wakurationairy?"

Dr. Wojcik looked puzzled. Then her face brightened.

"Yes, yes, I understand, e jac u lat ion ary"

Midori reached into her pocket, and pulled out a thick blue book, then handed it to Dr. Wojcik. She looked at it for a moment, thumbed through a few pages, then nooded in understanding. She turned and sat at her desk. In a few seconds, she had found what she was looking for. She made a note in her clipboard, then thumbed through the book again. In a few minutes she had written down five or six words. She stood up triumphantly, and, face beaming, returned to the table. She glanced at the Japanese ladies, then turned her gaze down to her notes.

"Ok then, this is what we are going to do. We're going to take his penisu, make it very shikima until he has an erekushon. After he has a nice eyakurachion we will collect his sa-men. Any questions?

The Japanese ladies eyebrows lifted up of one accord. Mouths dropped open, then hands came up to cover mouths. They looked at each other, then at me, then at the pouch in the middle of the canvas. Dr. Wojcik looked on impatiently.

"Well, ladies, any question?"

Dumbfounded, they slowly shook their heads. Dr. Wojcik eyed them with curiosity written on her face.

"Right then, please gather around the subject, and lets begin."

As they gathered round the table, Midori and Hiroko on one side, Dr. Wojcik and Keiko on the other, Dr. Wojcik unfastened the drawcord of the pouch containing my genitals.With a sudden flourish, she pulled it open and down flat, exposing my secrets. Keiko audibly gasped.

"Something wrong, Keiko?", Dr. Wojcik asked.

Keiko shook her head. 

Dr. Wojcik loosened the opening all the way, then carefully slid the bottom underneath my testicles, before lifting my flaccid penis out and over the top of the front. She began to pull the drawcord tight, carefully ensuring that my skin was not being pinched in any way, before pulling it snug all around my genitals. She pulled the scrotum skin up gently, getting as much of it outside of the pouch as possible, before finally tightening it a bit more and tying the cord in a big bow that I could see protruding from either side of my scrotum. 

My genitals were now lying completely exposed atop a flat white surface, nothing else of my body visible save my head and feet. I felt like I was about to be operated on. The Japanese ladies stared in amazement, each one covering their mouths with their hands, to hide their expressions. I felt even more exposed than I had atop the other apparatus, because there was now nothing at all on display save my genitals, no other place to focus on. As if that wasn't enough, Dr. Wojcik wheeled the mobile light over and adjusted the arm to blaze a white light down. Every pore was visible. 

Next, she took the other cable apparatus, and proceeded to gently lift my penis to a vertical position, flaccid as it was, and place the ring over it. It fit quite loosely. Dr. Wojcik took the first cable, and inserted the steel pin into a hole at the far corner of the examination table. She gently pulled the cable through the pin until most of the slack was taken up, then tightened the cable-fastening screw. She did the same to the other three cables. When she was done I realized what was going on - guy wires! The ring was now resting half-way down my penis, cables, only slightly limp, extending outward and gently uwards to the pins inserted into the four corners of the table. 

Once satisfied that all was correct, Dr. Wojcik reached for the silver object a flicked a switch. Immediately a low humming filled the air. A vibrator! She lifted it up, and placed the rubber ball on her palm. I could see it vibrating. She murmured something, and flicked another switch, at which the humming raised up a notch in both volume and pitch. Holding the instrument over me for an instant, Dr. Wojcik looked into my eyes. I stared back, uneasily, then, unable to hold her gaze, shifted my attention to the Japanese. Smiles all round. 

Dr. Wojcik brought the vibrator down and applied it to my scrotum. Despite the fact that it felt only mildly stimulating, I nevertheless began to get the initial tingles heralding the beginnings of an erection. Back and forth went the vibrator, first on one testicle, then the other, then nestled between the two of them. I began to harden, ever so slowly, first filling out a little, before the first lengthening began. The ring, which had been quite loose around the shaft, becane a little bit more snug. On and on it went, the vibrator never touching the penis, only sending mild stimulations to my testicles that were not particularly enjoyable. Nevertheless, eventually I became hard enough for my shaft to lift itself off my stomach. At that moment, Dr. Wojcik switched off the vibrator, then reached down to gently lift my penis to a vertical position. Holding it there, she slid the ring up the shaft until it was snugly positioned just at the base of the head. It became obvious to me that Dr. Wojcik had carefully measured my manhood, and had this ring designed to fit perfectly in this particular location. It was not too tight, but certainly could not accidentally slide off the top of the head, now that I was erect and the head had swelled up to its usual size.. Dr. Wojcik turned to Midori.

"Please hold this ring in place, Midori, while I tighten the cables.:

Gingerly, Midori reached her hand forward, and held the ring in place with her thumb and pointer finger. I felt the edges of her fingers touching the rim of my head. In spite of myself I felt my penis spasm a little at the sensation of her soft fingers, what little contact there was of them, touching me there. She and the other two stared hard at my shaft, while Dr. Wojcik went from corner to corner, tightening the cables fully. Now that I was fully erect, the cables were perfectly horizontal. Again, it was evident that Dr. Wojcik had correctly accounted for the thickness of my pelvis and the length of my erection is calculating the proper length of the pins required to ensure that the cable lay perfectly horizontal without tending to either slide up or down my shaft. Althought the cables were now very tight, there was of course no pressure at all on my penis, except for being held vertically by the ring. I was perfectly locked in position. I heard Midori quietly mutter, "Ah so, des" under her breath. Dr. Wojcik removed Midori's hand from the ring, and, picking up the vibrator, flicked the switch back on. Its buzzing re-charged the air with tension.

Again, she placed it on my testicles, and resumed the previous stimulation, back and forth between the two, occasionally nestling it between them. My erection held, but did not increase. I attempted to shift my buttocks slightly to get more comfortable, but the canvas prevented me from moving far, and what little movement I achieved caused my penis to tilt slightly to one side, which in turn caused the ring to dig in a little on one side. I quickly shifted back. Back to vertical. 

After a minute or so, the vibrator began to make brief forays to the base of my penis, probing a little higher each time. Now, I could feel the vibrations well up into the shaft itself, and the stimulation became quite a bit stronger. When the vibrations reached just under the ring, it became almost intolerable. The thought of those three pair of eyes watching my de-sperming only intensified the discomfort. Dr. Wojcik removed the vibrator, and briefly switched it off. She first went over to the cabinet, removed the cannister of white cream, and lubricated the instrument, then made an adjustment to the handle. She looked at Hiroko.

"Ladies, please get close now and watch the involuntary tremors. They are quite fantastic, as you will see. If you look closely, you might actually see the convulsions and contractions of the penile muscle as it spasms and moves the semen up the shaft."

And with that, they all leaned over, Dr. Wojcik within a few inches, the Japanese further away. Dr. Wojcik glanced at them again, then frowned. 

"No no, ladies, much closer. Get closer, or else you'll miss all the wonderful spasmodic activitiy."

And so they all gathered in close, until my shaft was hidden from view by the back of Hiroko and Midori's heads. Four faces closely peering at my manhood, isolated on a white plain of canvas. Dr. Wojcik made a quick check of the cables, moved the light so that it was directly above my penis, then moved to the end of the table. I could feel her abdomen pressing against my feet. As she turned the vibrator back on, I noticed the pitch was considerably higher in tone than before. I could not see the instrument as she placed it back up against my shaft, but Dr. Wojcik's face was clearly visible, framed above the black hair of the Japanese ladies. Her eyes gleamed, as she leaned forward

Again, the instrument stroked my shaft, first the back, then the front, occasionally riding up and down the sides like an elevator, before returning to the front. My erection reached a state of constant, straining, maximum stiffness, held erect by the ring and cables. The stimulation was beyond belief! There was a pause of few seconds, then, almost as if an electric current was passing through my manhood, I felt the tip of the vibrator touch the head of the penis, on the underside just below the opening. I groaned like I was being quartered. The vibrator withdrew, then returned, tarrying a bit longer this time. Another groan, more desperate, as I strained at all my restraints helplessly. My penis was held firmly upright, motionless, as it endured a stimulation which would normally have me humping and pumping like a maniac. No movement was possible. I shouted out in painful pleasure, yet the instrument continued to torment me, touching that super-sensitive head for a moment or two, then withdrawing, before returning a few seconds later. Top, front, sides - all possible locations on that pinkish-purple head were touched, each tested to see how much sensitivity it displayed. Every touch elicited a yelp from me now. Unfortunately, although I was super-stimulated, somehow the unnaturalness of it all did not cause me to ejaculate immediately. It was as though my manhood, unused as it was to this type of game, couldn't somehow synchronize itself properly to achieve orgasm. The heat under the canvas was unbearable. Sweat began to pour from my face, as my muscles tensed, then relaxed with every touch of that magic wand. Dr. Wojcik looked at me with amusement on her face. When my yelping reached an ear-splitting intensity, she suddenly handed the instrument to Midori, and then walked over to her desk.

She returned a moment later with what I could clearly see was some type of gag. It consisted of a leather harness, to which was attched thick black rubber sac of some kind, which I could see had two small copper disks barely protruding from the surface. A black rubber tube, about a yard long, ran from the sac to a small, metal box, with an electrical cord attached, which Dr. Wojcik placed on the table beside my head. She fastened the straps around my head, then, using two hands, grasped my upper and lower lips, and gently pulled them apart. I was certainly not going to resist. The black sac was inserted, uninflated, into my mouth, and positioned as far back in my mouth as possible. Plugging in the electrical machine, she flicked a switch. Immediately, I recognized the sound of a compressor operating, much like the sound a blood-pressure machine makes, and felt the sac expanding into my mouth. I instinctively began to breathe through my nose. Once it had fully inflated, and locked in place tightly inside of my restraining teeth, it stopped automatically. Dr. Wojcik flipped another switch, turned a dial all the way to the right, , then resumed her position at the feet of the table. She retrieved the vibrator from Midori, switched it back on, and applied it to the base of my penis again.

Although I had softened somewhat in the interval, the ring had held my penis upright. Soon, the intense stimulation brought me back to full thickness, and I could sense that my penis head must be bulging out spectacularly above the silver ring. After a pause of a few seconds, the first touch of the instrument on the head electrified my senses again. The third touch caused me to groan aloud, and although it was muffled by the rubber sac, it was still clearly audible. I thought I felt a tingle on the roof of my mouth. Dr. Wojcik looked at my mouth, puzzled, then stepped over to the control box.

"Ah!", she mutterred, "How silly of me.", then turned the dial all the way in the other direction.

She raised the vibrator, and deliberately placed it on my penis-head for three or four times the usual duration, watching my face closely as she did so. Agony! Turbo-charged stimulation flooded through my penis-head, almost instantly causing me to let out a muffled roar of anguish from deep within my vocal cords. Just as immediately, I endured a violent electric shock coursing through the two metal discs mounted on the rubber sac, of such a fiery intensity I thought one of my teeth would blow out! I strangled back my moan tight in my throat, reducing it to only a rough gurgling growl. Down came the vibrator again, and this time it stayed there! Unable to cry out, I breathed rapidly through my nose, eyes watering, as my penis, motionless, was assaulted by thousands upon thousands of vibrations. I could feel my shaft extending further that I had thought possible, head bulging, still held in vertical position by the unyielding cables, tremendously stimulated yet not yet able to ejaculate. Dr. Wojcik began to move it slowly around the penis head, swirling it around and around playfully, sometimes delaying here, or pressing harder there, occasionally lifting it off for an instant, then replacing it before I had a chance to settle down even for a moment. My legs were as stiff as boards, and I performed little frenzied kicking motions in an effort to dispel the painful stimulation. In lieu of thrusting my hips I was forced to contract then relax my stomach muscles, as though I could thrust myself to orgasm that way. Tears began to flow down my cheeks, mixed with sweat, then fell to the table-top.

Without stopping her ministraions to my male member, , Dr. Wojcik spoke to Hiroko:

"Please take a damp cloth from over near the sink, and wipe his face. Keep him comfortable so that the test can progress smoothely, please."

Hiroko left my side, and returned with the damp cloth. She leaned over me, smiled, and began to wipe my face with the moist cloth. As I snorted and puffed, she continued to dab my face, with a permanent smile on her face. The contrast of her gentle, clean, mature feminine face, and starched white blouse filling my view, with the torturous assault of my penis occurring just behind her, proved too much. I felt a tightening deep within my shaft, then a buildup of pressure as I began to ooze pre-ejaculate. I heard Dr. Wojcik's voice:

"Hiroko, look quickly. E Y A K U R A C H I O N! Quick!"

Hiroko twisted her frame to observe. I could suddenly once again see my tortured shaft, with Keiko and Midori smiling wide-eyed, heads pulled back a little to allow Hiroko to observe. Dr. Wojcik was watching me with an evil smirk, as usual. Hiroko was turned sharply, and I noticed that the twisting action caused her blouse to bunch up a little, causing little gaps to form between her buttons. Through them I could see her breast, contained by the most white, delicate, lacy bra I had ever seen. It seemed so pure and virginal. Oh, how I wanted to nestle my face there in that pure loveliness! How crude and animalistic my male shaft appeared in the same field of view. And yet she appeared unperturbed. Even while watching, her hand lovingly continued to caress my face clean, and as I began to pump out strand after strand of semen, she once looked back to me and, noticing my gaze at her breasts, gave me a short, accepting smile. At that moment, I felt a pure and unfetterred love well up within me which I had never known before, nor experienced since. It was the love of a man for a woman of a purity and gentleness completely foreign to his understanding. I sensed that she somehow knew what I was feeling, and felt a little of it too. If I could, I would have kissed her deeply then and there, even in the midst of my ongoing orgasm.

After I was finished, Dr. Wojcik left me and went to her computer. Midori and Keiko followed her, but Hiroko stayed with me, and, on Dr. Wojcik's instructions, carefully and gently de-pressurized and removed the gag from my mouth, released the cables, and, once I had softened enough, delicately slid the steel ring off from the end of my worn-out penis. She used the same damp cloth to clean me, wiping up all the semen, and rinsing the cloth several times in the sink before wiping all final traces away. I was like an invalid in her tender care. Later, as I was released from under the canvas and all straps undone, she took my hand, and rubbed my wriststs where the leather cuffs had left deep marks on the skin. Then, helping me up, she lifted my underwear, before helping me to dress with the remainder of my clothes. Despite of what I had just been through, I was touched deeply by her kindness, and quietly thanked her.




In the Hands of Dr. Wojcik Part 2



In the coming weeks, I was subjected to the same procedure several more times, and although the other two Japanese ladies took turns wiping my face, I never again felt the same marvellous connection of spirits that I had had with Hiroko that first time. Dr. Wojcik somehow must have had a tinkling that something was going on between us, for, from that day on, she made Hiroko remain at the desk and monitor the computer activity during the procedure. 

After the fourth session, as I was preparing to leave the room, Dr. Wojcik mentioned that the Japanese ladies were to return to Japan the next day. To my own utter shock, I felt a tremendous stab of pure sorrow flood my being. Reluctantly, I walked up to Midori, and offerred my hand. We shook, then I did the same to Keiko. Finally, I turned to Hiroko. Her eyes were downcast. I took her hand, shook it, then held it for a moment or two longer. In the pause, she finally raised here eyes and peered into my own. I sensed that there was sadness there, too.

"Good-bye, Hiroko."

Her pure eyes looked up at me.

"Good-bye, Douglas-san", she murmered quietly.

I held her hand for a moment longer, then, hearing Dr. Wojcik clearing her throat, glanced over to see her staring icily at the two of us. Reluctanly, I let the hand drop, then turned and slowly walked from the room.

Chapter 8

After the Japanese ladies had left, there was a two-week break. I felt overwhelmingly depressed. My marriage had by now dissolved completely, and we were in the final stages of divorce proceedings. Fortunately, my wife had taken up with a rich insurance executive, and was due to marry him shortly after the divorce was finalized. This reduced my support payments to a level that I could easily accomodate. 

When I returned to Dr. Wojcik's office, she explained to me that we were going to repeat all the sessions from the start, twice each, and photograph and videotape them. After that, she said with a smile, our time together would be complete, my sentence would be served, and she would make a favorable report to the court. I would be discharged of all my responsibilities from the tax-avoidance case. Three video cameras were positioned around the room, with another one suspended from the ceiling in the centre. Dr. Wojcik could aim it by manipulating a joystick-type device. She moved the others about according to which particular study we were working on during each particular session. Four large television monitors were also mounted on the far wall near the door, and provided high-definition views of what each camera was recording at that particular moment. It was strange to watch myself from various views and angles. There was always at least one camera positioned directly on my face. She used a small camera to take still photographs repeatedly from all angles during the sessions.

And so it began all over again - sneezing, coughing, and all the rest, ending up with me back on the apparatus for the dual ejaculation sessions. Sensing that the end was near, I would have to say that I almost threw myself enthusiastically into the task at hand. Nothing botherered me now. The thought of freedom only a few short weeks away drove me on, and I was careful not to give Dr. Wojcik the slightest cause for complaint. The views from the televisions of what was being taped was certainly somewhat embarassing at times. During the ejaculation sessions, a camera was focussed on my face as usual, another on my penis from the front left side, another was behind and below me, looking up at my testicles, and the ceiling-mounted unit focussed on my entire body, as it bucked and thrashed about wildly. I didn't care, I was almost free.

Finally, the great day came, the day I had anticipated for two years! The last session! I practically leaped onto the apparatus, and eagerly submitted to my usual milking. Dr. Wojcik seemed distracted, and let me ejaculate both times unusually quickly. I dressed quickly afterwards, and awaited her final dismissal. We were finished at least a half hour earlier than usual, so I assumed she would just let me go early. However, not wishing to be presumptious, I sat silently in the chair, as she completed her final computer work.

The high-pitched tone of her telephone suddenly broke the silence. Her face lit up with expectation, as she picked it up.

"Hello, this is Dr. Wojcik speaking.....Yes. Yes....Certainly..... Oh, three months, I think. All the material is ready, so it shouldn't take me very long at all. ....Eighty-five? My goodness, that is extraordinary! Wonderful, wonderful, this is stunning news. Thank you very much. I will begin work next week. Good bye."

She stood up, a huge smile of joy on her face. Then she walked over to the other side of her desk, and half-sat on it.

"Well, Mr. Douglas, you and I are going to be famous apparantly. I have just been given a contract by Braithwaite Scholastic Publishing Company to produce educational textbooks and course materials based on our pioneering study together. All of our sessions will be reproduced in the materials, and will be part of the course materials for General Biology, Human Sexuality, and Introductory Neuroscience courses at over eighty-five universities! Imagine it! Thousands of freshmen students in universities, in medical and nursing schools, will see what we have done together!"

I sat in silence, stunned, joyful feeling completely dissipated. A dark feeling came over me, a churning in the gut that spoke of immense danger ahead, for a fearsome thought had entered my mind. I nervously cleared my throat, then hesitantly spoke.

"Er, um, I see. This is interesting. I assume though that my name will not be mentioned at all in these materials, will it?"

Dr. Wojcik looked at me blankly.

"No, Mr. Douglas there's no need to mention your name at all. You will just be 'the subject' as far as the texts are concerned."

I felt somewhat reasured. Still, another nagging thought worried me. Again, I voiced my concern.

"And, ah, I assume that none of the photographs or videotapes will show my face at all? I wouldn't want that, now would I?" I laughed nervously.

Dr. Wojcik stared at me for a moment, as though she were staring right through me, then, imperceptibly, the corners of her mouth raised up a ittle and her half-smile appeared. She continued to stare at me, as though trying to make up her mind about something. When she finally spoke there was a hard coldness to her voice.

"Mr. Douglas, your involuntary facial expressions are an integral part of this study, and must be included. There is no way to avoid that. Thank you for your participation in my work. That will be all now. You may go."

And with that she turned back to her desk. I felt a hot flash of anger welling up inside of me. My old impulsiveness got the better of me, and I jumped to my feet. My voice was rising.

"Wait just a minute, now. This is no good. No good at all. I can't accept this! My face, there for thousands of students to see, my private parts, aroused and then ejaculating for all to see! You expect me to allow myself to be exposed to the public in this way? How am I supposed to live with this shame? No way! You just can't do this. I won't allow it."

I was shaking with rage now. My day of liberation was turning into a day of further, permanent humiliation. I glared at Dr. Wojcik angrily. She glared back, standing defiantly in front of me now, hands on hips.

"Mr. Douglas, you have no rights in this matter. As part of your sentence you signed over all rights to this research to me and my institute. Science is more important than your embarassment on this issue. This matter is closed. You have been dismissed. Now go!"

I stood still. I was not leaving.

"You mean, you insist of showing my face in these materials? Insist on ruining my life? Do you know how long it will take for everyone to know that it is me? Why, there must be half a dozen kids on my street alone going to University this fall. I have a niece going to State University next year. How many of them will see these materials and recognize me? And how many the year after that? And the year after that? How am I supposed to live normally after this? Have you thought of that?"

She was silent, then spoke slowly with a cold disdain in her voice.

"You don't seem to understand, Mr. Douglas. I care nothing for you, nor for your reputation. You are just a body to me, just cells and bone, muscle and nerves. Your reputation is your problem, not mine. Now, go away before I call the police!"

I stood there, immobile, unbelieving. I hated this woman now, hated her with every fibre of my being. She was ruining my life and she didn't give a shit! She thinks I'm nothing.

And without thinking, out of pure hateful impulse, I leapt towards her, hand reaching for her throat. I squeezed it tight with both hands.Her eyes bugged out with fear, and her hands began clawing at me, scraping my arms, scratching them, trying in vain to dislodge my hands from their vise-like grip. I wasn't squeezing to kill her, just to shake some sense into her. But her struggling and the pain of her scratches infuriated me all the more. I pushed her over backwards onto the desk, and shook her head back and forth violently. She screamed, and I removed one hand and quickly covered her mouth. 

"You bitch! You fucking bitch! How dare you try to ruin my life! You stop that study or I'll tear your head off here and now! Do you understand me? I've taken your shit long enough!"

She released her hand from my arms, in a submissive gesture, letting them fall limply onto the desk. I saw fear in her eyes, the fear of a cornered rat. I felt her lips move under my hand, but no sound came out. Sensing her capitulation, I loosened my grip a litlle. She gasped for air, tears flowing down her cheeks, and I relented further, removing my hand from her mouth. Finally, she stammerred out:

"All right."

I released her neck, and slumped back to my chair. Her head hung down, and she leaned over her desk, breathing still heavy, until she managed to compose herself a little. I sat still in the chair, breathing heavily myself, and watched her warily. She finally stammerred to her feet, sat down behind her desk, and grabbed her purse. Rummaging through it, she finaly brought out a tissue and a lipstick Dabbing her face, she quietly walked over to me. I thought she wanted to talk. She dropped the tissue on the floor and removed the cap of the lipstick. The last thought which entered my mind was how strange the lipstick appeared, when WHAM!, it hit me.

Pepper spray. A full blast of it, directly in my face.A searing blast of blinding pain filled my nose and eyes, then my lungs as I breathed it in. I staggerred to my feet, withing in torment, with my only thought being the end of this pain that hat overtaken my world. Half-blinded, coughing and choking, I turned and ripped open the door, then stumbled in a fiery haze through the hallway. I didn't even know where I was going. Through the empty waiting room, out the door, then down the stairs I flew, then out the foyer until I was outside. Somehow, my foggy brain remembered the water fountain at the front of the building. I turned and charged towards it, then fell into it headfirst, feeling the cooling cleansing water washing away the burning spray, eyes washing out again and again. I remained that way for several minutes, until the pain subsided. My nose was running and my throat and lungs burned, but I was OK. I looked up and saw the occupants of a car waiting at the stoplight in front of me eyeng me curiously, but then the light changed and off they went. I sat there for another five minutes before I wearily clambered out. 

I fished in my trouser pockets, and found my car keys. Getting in, I sat for a few minutes, thinking. All rage was gone now, replaced by a fear of what I had done. What of Dr. Wojcik? What would happen now? Would the police come for me? I had no idea. But I knew that I had really gone too far this time. I slowly drove home, half-expecting to be pulled over by a cop at any moment. I arrived at the apartment, grabbed two beers from the fridge, and threw myself onto the couch. I drank the first quickly, and awaited the arrival of the police. After a half hour, I heated up some macaroni and drank another beer. Then I flipped on the TV. Wearily, I lay back, and despite my fears, fell into a troubled sleeep. Several times, I awoke, and with a start, remembered what had happenned, before slowly drifting back to sleep. 

I awoke suddenly to the sound of the telephone. I looked about me groggily. It was 11:45. Another ring, then another. This was it, I thought. Still, no point in avoiding it. I reached behind me to the corner table, and picked up the phone. I took a deep breath, then placed it to my ear.

"Hello?" I croaked nervously.

There was a long pause on the other end, but I knew someone was there because I could hear the breathing. Finally, a too-familiar voice spoke.

"Hello, Mr. Douglas. This is Dr. Wojcik speaking. I think we need to talk."

To Be Continued... 



In the Hands of Dr. Wojcik Part 3



Chapter 9

"We need to talk."

My throat went dry at the sound of Dr. Wojcik's voice. She was obviously calling to tell me that I would be charged with assault for my attack on her in the medical building earlier that evening. Or perhaps there was to be a civil suit. Whatever it was, my life was certainly about to take a dramatic turn for the worse - again! Never mind that I had been pushed beyond all normal limits, tormented physically, sexually, and emotionally for almost two years now. Never mind that I was to be featured in a new University text book, naked, exposed, rutting her hand like a wild animal in the throes of passion. Never mind that my face would be on display for all to see. No no, that didn't count at all! What counted was the fact that I had finally snapped, and taken matters into my own hands. I steeled myself for the worst, then calmed my voice as I answered.

"Yes, what is it? Aren't you going to call the police? I've been waiting for them to arrive all evening."

I surprised myself with the angry tone in my voice.

Silence. I could hear her breathing. She seemed taken aback. Finally she spoke, a little hesitantly I thought.

"Is that what you want, Mr. Douglas? It could be easily arranged."

A thought suddenly occurred to me.

"You know, it is just your word against mine in all of this. You have no proof that I touched you at all. Perhaps your story won't be believed. I'm beginning to think that..."

She cut me off.

"You are wrong. My story will be perfectly believed. Because it is true. You forget that the cameras were rolling all the time, Mr. Douglas. I have just reviewed all the tapes, and believe me, the attack is exceptionally well documented. I have taken steps to have the tapes duplicated, and stored in a safe place. Furthermore, if anything should ever happen to me, I have provided for the delivery of those tapes to the police, who I am sure will be greatly interested in their contents. No, Mr. Douglas, combined with your previous conviction, and my international reputation, I am afraid that you wouldn't stand a chance if  I were to have you charged with assault."

She paused, letting the effect of her words sink in. 

I had nothing to say. If true, those tapes could effectively put me behind bars. And I knew that she had them running almost all the time. I was finished. When she spoke again, she was no longer hesitant.

"You will do exactly as I say, or else I shall immediately take action against you. You are to come to my home Sunday morning at 9:00 A.M. We shall discuss matters further at that point. Is that understood?"

I sighed loudly. There was no way out. I just wanted this woman out of my life for good.

"OK", I mutterred, in a daze again. 

"Fine. Go get a pen and take my address down."

I wearily stood up and shuffled over to my desk, returning with a pen and note-pad.

"OK, go ahead."

" It's 128 Willowby Lane, on the far side of the Tucker Nature Reserve. 9:00 Sunday morning then, and don't be late."

And with that she clicked the phone down and the line went dead. I wondered wearily what on earth she wanted now. There seemed to be no end to my involvement with this infernal woman. However, at least it appeared as though she did not intend to inform the police or the court authorities immediately about our little scrap. I drank another beer, then drifted off into an uncomfortable slumber.

Chapter 10

I awoke early Sunday morning, grabbed a coffee, hopped into the shower, and was in my car by 8:40. It was a dark and rainy day, the sky almost black, and I continuously heard the rumble of distant thunder. It seemed to echo the nervous rumblings going on in my guts. I easily found her house, an old, roomy, good quality brick house which had evidently been well restored. It was situated at the end of a dead-end country road, on a well-treed lot, and, judging from the fences around it, I figured the total area was probably around fifty acres or more. Very private. I pulled into the stone driveway, and half-way along there was a metal gate. I was about to come to a stop, when, to my surprise, it automatically swung open. I passed slowly through, and as I looked back in my rear-view mirror, I noticed it swinging shut behind me. I pulled the car up to the covered front entrance, and switched off the engine. As I climbed the front steps, it suddenly occurred to me that I should have contacted my lawyer for advice before taking on this meeting. Come to think of it, I should have brought him along. with me. Another mistake. I lifted up the heavy iron knocker, and rapped loudly three times.

The door opened almost immediately, and there stood Dr. Wojcik. I was taken aback. She looked much classier than I had ever seen her before. She wore a crisp light-brown medium length skirt, with a gold, brown and white silk blouse. An expensive-looking pearl necklace and pearl earrings adorned her face, and, to my surprise, she had on a relatively well-done application of make-up. Dark brown leather shoes completed the picture. 

"Good morning, Mr. Douglas. We have a lot to discuss. Please follow me."

And with that, she turned on her heels without awaiting my response, and headed off down the hallway. Shutting the door behind me, I followed several paces behind. The hallway was adorned with tall paintings, probably copies of 18th century stuff, I supposed, and area rugs intermittently covered the floor. Simply yet tastefully decorated, I noted. Nothing great, but no glaring mistakes either. Probably done by your run-of-the-mill interior decorator, I imagined. We continued on until Dr. Wojcik turned to her right, opened a door, and stepped into another room. Switching on a light, we entered a study, filled with books, a globe, a desk - all the usual stuff. Against the far wall was a television and a VCR. Thick curtains completely covered the window, creating a sombre mood. There were three comfortable stuffed chairs arranged around a coffee table. At Dr. Wojcik's beckoning, I sat in the far one, and she situated herself across from me. She reached into a magazine rack, and pulled out a pen and paper. Sitting back, legs crossed, she regarded me with a curious look on her face, as though still trying to make up her mind about something. Finally she broke the silence.

"I have been making inquiries about you since our little incident a few days ago. It seems that you now live alone, is that correct?"

I nodded, surprised at this line of questioning. 

"And apparently, your business is not doing particularly well. Barely making ends meet, to be perfectly blunt. Probably bad enough that the cost of a trial lawyer would be enough to put you under for good. I don't suppose that any good lawyer would even take you on as a client. They make their own inquiries, you know."

She paused, then went on.

"I am going to play you a tape of our incident the other day. Watch carefully."

She stood up, and took a video from the desk and placed it into the VCR. Returning to her seat, she clicked the remote.

The screen was blank at first, then came a title page. On it was the name of a videotape lab in a nearby town, and the words 'AUTHORIZED COPY NUMBER 6' underneath in bold red letters. After a moments delay, the TV was filled with the image of me sitting in Dr. Wojcik's office. The sound seemed distant, but you could definitely hear me arguing with Dr. Wojcik about the University text book she was planning to produce. Suddenly I saw myself leap up and grab her by the throat. I was dismayed. I looked even more villanous than I had imagined. The entire sorry episode played out on the screen in front of me; the attack, the shouting, my hands at her throat, and ended with my choking, pepper-sprayed exit from the room. The screen went blank, then a few seconds later, the entire scene was repeated, this time from a different camera angle. My words were much more clear in this version, and my face sharper, better lit, so that my facial contortions appeared even more ghastly. When it was over, Dr. Wojcik clicked off the machine. I sat in a stunned silence.

"As I mentioned to you on the phone, I now have many copies of this tape stored in several safe locations. If I were to disappear, for any reason, my lawyers are instructed to hand them to the police. I spoke to my lawyer yesterday, and he assured me that I could easily have you charged anytime within the next twelve years. It is not something that must be done immediately. Furthermore, a civil suit, for pain, suffering, emotional distress and the like could conservatively net me fifty thousand dollars. I also would like to remind you that I can proceed with my University text book project if I so choose. So you see, Mr. Douglas, I could ruin your life on several different fronts tomorrow if I so chose. Do you understand?"

She glared at me, a little of the old anger creeping back into her eyes.

I nodded.

She shifted in her seat, crossed her legs in the other direction, then sat silently, staring at me, thinking. I hunkered down, awaiting her verdict. I did not want to do anything to provoke her at this point. Finally, she took a deep breath, and spoke in a commanding voice.

"I can be persuaded to not take any action against you, Mr. Douglas, but only on my terms. You have committed a terrible offense against me, and I cannot let you off without any punishment. However, you have no financial capacity right now, that much is clear. On the other hand, you are unemcumbered by any family committments or other demands on your time and activities. This was important to me as I pondered what to do with you."

I wondered what on earth she was getting to. She paused, then continued on.

"I took a look at my own situation, Mr.Douglas. I am forty-five years of age. I am very successful, professionally and financially, quite healthy, and held in high esteem by my family and relatives back in my home country. I am the only one from my small town that has - how do you say? - ah yes!, made good, so to speak. I enjoy my life. I have been able to take numerous trips around the world, and have met many interesting people. In short, I seem to have everything that one could wish for. Except for one thing."

She paused for breath.

"Twenty years ago, when I was just a young woman, I was married for a short while. It was not my choice, for the man was not to my liking, but my family wished it, so I complied. It turned out to be a complete disaster. He was an awful brute, a drunk, a gambler, and lazy as well. The day I divorced him was one of the happiest in my life. I've never felt I needed a man since then. That is until I began our experiments together. It was then that I felt a stirring within me that made me dream of fulfillment in this area of my life. And yet I am unwilling to ever tie myself to a man again, to be under his control, to do his bidding, to be just his wife. No, never again will I let a man lord over me. From now on, things must be done my way, or not at all. Do you understand, Mr Douglas? I want a man, to do with as I wish, to be under my control, to please me first, him second."

Her voice became hard and cold, and the words began to flow out of her like a forceful torrent, as though years of repression had finally burst forth. She leaned forward in her chair, eyes burning into mine.

"I offer you a choice, Mr. Douglas. Either you submit to me, and provide me with the pleasure I desire, or I will take action against you and ruin you completely. There is no other choice, and no negotiations. One or the other. What will it be, Mr. Dougls?"

She looked at me sternly, eyes gleaming with intensity. I noticed a few dots of perspiration forming on her neck. I almost expected her to reach over and strike me at any moment, so imposing and hostile against the entire male race did she appear at that moment.

My mind raced. What did this mean? What form was this submitting to take? And what kind of pleasure did she desire? I was at a loss for words.

"I... er ....well, what exactly do you have in mind?", I stammerred, searching how to put into words my darkest fears.

"That is none of your business.", she snapped.

"But how can I..."

She cut in.

"Choose, Mr. Douglas, choose! I will not explain any further, other than to say that you will go about your usual life, operating your business normally. Whenever I want you to come here and attend to me, you will immediately and without question do so. That is all. I can explain no further. All will become clear in time. What is your answer?"

My mind was a-whirl with ideas and notions. A thousand thoughts and visions passed through my brain, none of them clear, none of them certain. I couldn't find a single clear idea to grasp, to cling on to, one solid underlying principle to base my decision on. I was tired, worn out, drained with worry and stress. I needed to think.

"I need time to digest all this. I can't decide right now. I don't even know..."

Again, the voice cut in like a knife. More forceful than ever. 

"Now, Mr. Dougla, now! You have thirty seconds to make up your mind. After that I shall leave this room and call the police. You must take your chances with me or suffer the consequences. I am waiting."

I slumped back in my chair, dazed. This was unbelieveable! And yet I had no choice. I had to comply with her wishes, whatever that might mean. I had to risk it. The alternative was simply too dreadful to contemplate. And yet, what would become of me? There were only questions in my head, no answers. But I had no real choice. I took a deep breath.

"Allright, I have no choice. I agree to your terms. There's nothing else I can do. My life is ruined anyhow."

For an instant, I thought I detected a look of sympathy cross her face, but it quickly disappeared, replaced by an excited, joyful expression that she unsuccessfully tried to hide. She placed the pen and paper away, then stood up, towering over me.

"Good. You've made a wise choice. From now on you will do as I bid you while in this house. I live here alone, so nothing which transpires here will ever be known outside these walls."

She began to pace back and forth as she spoke, excited now.

"We will need a few ground rules here. You will never, ever, address me with anything but the utmost respect and dignity. You will not argue with me nor refuse any of my commands. I will not tolerate a bad attitude of any kind. No sulking. You will arrive within a half hour of my phone call, dropping whatever else you might be doing at the time. You will shower and shave before arriving here. You will dress nicely. I will give you a key and remote control for the front gate so that you do not have to wait for me to let you in. You will always strive to do your best to please me in whatever I demand of you, keeping in mind the fact that at any time I can choose to cancel our agreement and turn you over to the police. Is all this clear?" 

She was her imperial, bossy self again.

I nodded.

She winced at me.

"I want to hear your response when I ask you a question, Mr. Douglas. You may continue to address me simply as Dr. Wojcik. Now, is that clear, Mr. Douglas?"

I felt a hole form in the pit of my stomach. I wasn't liking this.

"Yes, Dr. Wojcik."

She nodded her approval.

"Good. Now, let's get to work. We have a long day ahead of us. Follow me."

Chapter 11

She turned and left the room, and I struggled to my feet, feeling dizzy, and trudged silently behind. She passed through a wide-open room, high ceilinged, with lots of skylights, and then down another hallway. At the end was an ornate door, which she opened. I looked inside. It was a bedroom.

There was a huge canopied four poster bed , fully three feet off the ground, with thin off-white lace curtains hanging down on three sides, the near side being swept back and held with a clasp. A huge carved headboard rose up at the back, although there was no footboard at all. The bedspread and numerous pillows were all matching deep gold. The floor was a black hardwood of some kind, immaculately clean, and well polished. There was a dressing table and mirror, several cabinets, a trunk, and a small table and chairs arranged neatly throughout the room, all of a style foreign to me - definitely not American, that much was for sure. The room was brightly lit with a small chandelier. Near the bed was an open window, and as I looked out I realized that the land dropped off sharply towards the back of the house, so that the bedroom was situated fully two stories above the ground. The window was open, and I could still hear thunder rumbling in the distance. On either side of the room were two doors, both closed. Dr. Wojcik pointed to the one on the left. 

"Go in there, and take a shower. Wrap yourself in the towel hanging behind the door when you are finished, then return here and wait for my further instructions."

I looked at her nervously. Her eyes were boring straight through me. She licked her thick lips. 

Not wanting to continue to look into her face, I turned and opened the door.

It was a bathroom with attached shower room, all very nice, dark wood on the walls, perfumed soaps and shampoos in a basket outside the shower room. I quickly undressed, chose a towel, and entered the shower room. I showered for ten minutes or so, mind racing from thought to thought, before drying myself off and stepping back into the bathroom. On the back of the door hung a thick towel, solid black, of a medium size. I carefully wrapped it around myself, tucking the end in at the side. I surveyed myself in the mirror, combed my hair once or twice, then cautiously opened the door to the bedroom, and peered out.

Dr. Wojcik was stiing on one of the chairs, legs crossed, watching my entry intently.

"Come here."

I walked over to her, bare chest still steaming from the hot shower. She stood up and looked me over, then walked behind me, grunting her approval once or twice. 

"Good. Lie down in the centre of the bed"

I walked around her, then gingerly clamoured up onto the bed. It was truly huge, not only wider and higher than any I'd ever seen before, but a full two feet longer as well. The pillows were arranged two deep, and there must have been at least a dozen of them, thick and fluffy. I lay back, staring up at the celing. 

Dr. Wojcik went around to the other side of the bed, behind the lace curtain, so that I could only vaguely make out what she was doing. She opened a dresser drawer, and removed some items, then walked over to the bed, and pulled the lace curtain aside. Stretching far across to me,she took my left wrist and pulled it over to herself. Quickly, she fastened a gold leather cuff around it, then wrapped the leather straps attached to it around the corner post, pulling hard and fastened it tightly with a buckle.. My arm was streched out straight, pointing directly to the corner. Then, she grasped my left ankle, and attached another cuff to it, similarly attaching it to the nearest post. She let the curtains fall down, than moved around to the other side of the bed, the side where the curtains were tied up, and similarly tied my right wrist and ankle, so that I ended up spread-eagled on the bed, held tightly but not uncomfortably. Leaning over again, Dr. Wojcik arranged one small pillow underneath my head, then moved the others to the side. After verifying that the straps were all correctly tied, she moved to the bedroom entrance door. For a moment I thought she was going to just leave me there, but as I watched, she reached up and turned the dimmer switch down so that the room was now only dimly lit. The grey light filtering in from the window was now equal in intensity to the lights inside. Then, she turned and went through the other bathrrom door on the right of the room. 




In the Hands of Dr. Wojcik Part 3



I lay there in silence, hearing the sound of the shower start up, then the faint sound of Dr. Wojcik humming. a sad , haunting tune. For well over half an hour she continued her shower, and I lay in total helplessness, awaiting whatever was to befall me. Finally, I heard the shower room door open as she came out. For another twenty minutes I heard occasional sounds from within the bathroom - a drawer being opened, an item placed on a counter, a tap turned on then off, and finally a hair dryer blowing. Then there was silence for a full five minutes. At last, the door slowly swung open.

I could only make out her shape in the near-darkness, made worse by the fact that I was peering through the lace curtain. Silently, she plodded around to the other side of the bed, and stood looking at me. My heart leapt to my throat. 

She was wearing a sheer silk nightgown, quite see-through, and even in this dim light I could make out the form of her large pendulous breasts, hanging loosely, slightly pointed outwards, pearl necklace disappearing between them, the shape of her dark aerolas, and the sharply protruding nipples. Her ample belly had a generous curve to it, and just where it began to curve downwards below the belly button, a huge triangle of black hair extended down between her legs and far to each side, towards her hips. I gaped in wonder. She saw me staring, and I guess she felt a little bit shy, for she immediately turned and walked over to the window. . I could see her huge round buttocks wobbling, heaving and lifting with each step beneath the sheer fabric. She untied the curtains where they were drawn back, and let them fall. The room darkened further, and for a moment I could see nothing at all. Then, as I grew accustomed to the light, I could again make out her figure as she returned to the side of the bed. Her face was too dark to see, but I could hear her breathing. After a moments hesitation, she lifted one knee and climbed up beside me. She waited a moment longer, then, with a flourish, reached up and untied the cord holding the bed-curtains together on the one side, and let them drop. We were now alone, encased together in our little lace enclosure. I wanted to shift my weight, but was too timid to move.

I was startled to hear Dr. Wojcik's voice emerge from the darkness.

"And now, Mr. Douglas, the time has come. The time has come for you to satisfy me. You will be my dream-lover, and together we will make up for all those years when I was alone, unable to release my womanly desires fully, only to dream of a day like today. Do not be afraid, simply obey me, and you will not be harmed."

And with that, she lay down beside me, sliding one of her thick legs under mine, her face against the side of my neck, hand resting on my chest. I could feel her breath heavy on my face and chest, still not particularly fresh-smelling despite the unmistakeable presence of mouthwash. She lay there for awhile, hand playing with the hair on my chest, as though she were tying to make up her mind what to do next. I could sense that she was nervous. I sat in frozen alarm, staring at the ceiling. Finally, she tentatively kissed me on the neck once, then again, then over and over as the passion grew in her. She lifted herself up and put one thick arm on the other side of me, so that she was staring straight down at my face. I could feel her heavy breasts resting on my chest, thick nipples detectable through the thin fabric.. Her facial features were invisible in the darkness. I felt her hair resting on my face, then begin to bunch up as her lips came to mine. She kissed me gently, lips just barely touching mine. I lay there, unresponding, then thought better of it. If I didn't respond she might well become angry. I lightly kissed her back. It was not particularly pleasant to feel those thick lips against mine, but I had no choice. 

As though a fire had been lit in her, my response seemed to ignite a passion. She drove her thick lips into mine, and as I felt them kissing me, her tongue drove itself between them and into my mouth, flicking here and there with a furious intensity. I was powerless to stop it, and she continued further and further, forcing her tongue against mine, making me play with it, as she pinned me down. She slowly shook her head from side to side, and made soft little sounds, almost like growls, as she continued. I could feel our noses rubbing each other, and could feel her breath coming out in heavy streams now. I breathed laboriously , my chest weighed down by her torso resting on it. Her tongue explored my lips, tongue, and teeth, and mine in turn was forced to respond in kind. Our salivas mixed and mingled, and I could hear soft smacking and sucking sounds as she continued. Despite myself, I began to become erect. 

Suddenly, Dr. Wojcik sat bolt upright, gathered up her gown, and pulled it over her head, tossing it to the side. Immediately, she unfastened my towel, and pulled the two sides apart, laying them flat on the bed, exposing me completely. She grasped my manhood, and fondled it lovingly.

"This is truly mine, now, Mr. Douglas. It will provide me with so much pleasure. Again and again, over and over, it will please me, no one but me, and I too shall sometimes please it. In every way. You will make me so happy."

She turned back to me, and kissed me again for a minute or so, while her hand fondled my penis. Then, she moved herself higher, so that my lips were on her neck. I made the mistake of just leaving my lips there, without kissing her. She lifted herself up, and even in the darkness I could sense her displeasure. Reaching down between my helpless legs, she grasped my testicles, both in one hand, then gave a short, sharp, terrifyingly painfull squeeze. I yelped in pain, and struggled to shift her off of me, but I was too firmly constrained.

"When I put something in front of your lips, Mr. Douglas, I expect it to be properly treated, not ignored. Is that clear?"

I froze in terror.

"Yes, yes, I understand, whatever you say."

She sat up again, lifted herself to one side, and, reaching down between my legs again, grasped my testicles with both hands and crushed them between her open palms. I writhed in pain, screaming in anguish. As I writhed, she continued to squeeze them, then twist them, over and over, continuing even though I strained to free myself.. She then let them fall. I groaned in agaony. But it was not over. Grasping my penis with one hand, she held it upright, while the other began to slap it back and forth, methodically meteing out a beating in a calm, controlled manner. Finally, she took her right hand and, using her thumb and the first two fingers, pinched the loose penile-skin mid-way up the underside, yanking it firmly upright. Still holding it painfully upright, she lowered her head to mine. She spoke in a quiet voice.

"I have a name. It is Dr. Wojcik. I told you already that you are to call me Dr. Wojcik. Do not forget again, or else I will give your manhood a beating that will make this one you've just experienced seem mild by comparison. Am I making myself clear, Mr. Douglas?"

She rotated her fingers in a clockwise motion, severely pinching and twisting my skin, while at the same time yanking the penis ever higher. It bacame so painful that I lifted my buttocks off the bed in an effort to relieve the pain. Higher still I lifted myself, and higher still she lifted, until I was arched up as high as I could manage, as though she were lifting me by the 'scruff' of my penis, so to speak. I stayed there maintaining my position, pain flooding my sensitive penis-skin. I moaned and writhed in painful terror. She wrenched even higher, and all I could do was endure the stretching of the skin, and hope it would not tear off. 

"Am I making myself clear Mr. Douglas?" she quietly demanded again.

Trying to control my voice, I yelped out a reply.

Yes Dr. Wojcik. Perfectly clear. I understand perfectly."

She held me aloft for an instant longer, then released me. I flopped my buttocks back down onto the bed, sweating now, and gasped for air. Before I had a moment to consider the incredible speed of her transformation from lover to tormentor, her lips were back on mine, kissing me. I quickly responded, making sure I matched her in enthusiasm. A trickle of sweat formed on my brow. Before long, her head again moved up, and lips gave way to chin, chin to fleshy neck, and neck to upper chest . I could feel her breasts hanging against my chin and chest. I franticaly kissed, sucked, and licked whatever was put in front of me, fearful now of displeasing her in any way. She grunted her approval. She shifted her weight, then lifted her right leg up and over me, straddling my stomach. I could feel her thick, warm legs against my side, and the pricklyness of her pubic hair pressing into my belly. My sore, flaccid penis touched her enormous buttocks gently. She leaned over until her heavy breasts fell in front of my face, and when one touched me, I certainly did not hesitate, kissing it over and over. She began to murmur with pleasure. She shifted a little higher, and a huge soft nipple plopped into my mouth. I sucked on it, flicking it with my tongue, pulling on it gently between my teeth, doing whatever I could to show her how attentive I was. I could feel with my tongue the little goose bumps surrounding the nipple, as it became more erect. It was a huge, dark, ugly thing. Dr Wojcik groaned aloud.

"Yes, yes, that's better. Suck on my breasts, suck on them. Harder. More and more. That's good. We will do so well together, my lover, just do what I say. Suck them, lick them. Ah! It's been so long. But now the wait is over. Yes, that's right, keep going."

I kissed and sucked each breast, all over, even taking fully a third of her breast into my mouth at one point. She began to grind her crotch into my stomach.

After several minutes, she shifted her hips forward several inches. Her breasts now hung above me. I could still reach the nipples if I streteched, but was better able to kiss her upper stomach. After a few minutes, again, the hips shifted forward. The breasts were now beyond reach, and her stomach was in front of my face. I kissed and sucked her ample belly, round and soft, putting my tongue in her belly button when it was presented to me, softly nibbling the gentle rolls of flesh, heavy but not obese. The upper edge of her thick black pubic hair began just an inch or so lower, and I could feel it pressing into my chin. The smell of her sex wafted up to my nostrils. I began to fear what I knew would come next. Despite my revulsion, I flicked my tongue down to the edge of that dense traingle. It had to be done. My heart was pounding in fear. One wrong move, any displeasure on her part, and I knew I would be subjected to more penile punishment.

Dr. Wojcik sat up straight, and looked down at me. My eyes had been in the poor light so long now that I could make out her facial expression clearly. Her face was plain now, no make-up. She smiled down at me triumphantly, breathing heavily. 

"The time has come, Mr. Douglas. Your tongue and lips are about to meet their rightful owner. Hundreds, no, thousands of times from this day on, your lips will perform this act for me. Your tongue will learn to know every fold, every contour, every hair of my womanhood. You will please it, do what it desires. No part of it will be a secret to you, and your tongue shall service all of it, day after day, week after week, for hours at a time. I will place myself there, mount myself on top of you, and you shall proceed to obey my every command. I want to look down at you, and see you busily attending to your duties, in your rightful place down between my legs. You may begin."

And with that, she shifted her hips forward yet again, this time lifting her crotch up by crouching on her knees, holding that black hairy triangle a few inches above my face. She leaned forward and placed both hands on the the headboard of the bed. I could feel the heat of her crotch, smell it's heavy odours, sense it's desire to be pleasured. I almost imagined that it was alive, had consciousness, knew what was to come, and gloried in its domination over me. 

I felt her upper thigh against my right cheek, and hurriedly turned and began to kiss it. A moment or two later later, the other side was presented to me as well. Then, maneuvering her hips around, she presented me with the entire boundary of her pubic hair, and I drove my tongue deeply into it every time it was presented to me, on the top, then the sides, then back again, round and round. 

Dr. Wojcik warned me, "Do not go any further just yet."

So on I went. I could sense Dr. Wojcik getting more and more aroused, and the smell of her fluids began to inflame my nostrils. Finally, she positioned herself so that my tongue was just below her belly button, and began to grind herself up and down, side to side, in an obscene display of unrestricted lust, slowly bringing my mouth lower and lower, deeper and deeper into her black triangle. I could occasionally hear her breasts slapping against her chest as she became more active. Her hair filled my mouth. My nose was buried deep in it. Thick, black pubic hair, everywhere. Some hairs came loose in my mouth, and although I at first tried to push them out with my tongue, they soon became so numerous, and I was so worried about risking Dr. Wojcik's anger, that I just ignored them, eventually swallowing one or two. 

Finally, she brought her sexual organs into position directly in front of my lips. She reached down, and grabbed my ears roughly with each hand, pinching them hard, using them to move my head and steer my lips. Finally, the moment came, when my tongue first touched her thick labia. A shudder went through me. She murmured in delighted satisfaction. She had me kiss and suck on each meaty labia individually, runing my tongue up and down their length, on the outside, then on the inside, before gently parting them and moving deeper. I could feel her getting more aroused with each lick, and soon she began a slight humping motion, driving my face into her soft body. My tongue explored deeply between her lips now, nose buried in the black hair, and then, at last, found the huge swollen clitoris. 

She moaned aloud with pleasure, and, pulling up hard on my ears, began to rhythmically hump my face. I flkicked my tongue harder, then softer, all around her clitoris, nose still buried in the hair, smell overpowering my nostrils. Her hand gripped my ears painfully, pulling me harder and tighter into herself with every humping action. I desperately licked, tongue thrashing out in all directions, tasting her fluids. Her entire weight began to fall on my face, and I felt my lips penetrating so deep within her hairy folds of flesh that they were almost fully enclosed by her labia. And yet on and on she went, fluids pouring out now, filling my mouth, I forced to swallow them down, choking for air even in the midst of it all. I could hear my own sucking noises fill the quiet room. The bed-frame gently creaked with Dr. Wojcik's motions. Outside, the sound of an occasional bird chirping drifted in to me through the open window., as I frantically gave my tongue over to her demands.

Dr. Wojcik began to moan louder still, humping my face so hard now that I could feel the pressure of her pubic bone against my cheeks. 

"More, sweet lover, more! Yes, you are pleasing me so well. Keep going, never stop. Ah!, you are learning well. You are mine now, all mine."

There was a moments pause, then she spoke in a hoarse voice even as she continued to grind herself into me.

"Look up, here, into my eyes. I want to see your face looking up at me in subsurvience as you give me the total pleasure I deserve. Look up at me now, and don't you dare stop pleasing me even for a second!"

I quickly looked up at her, through the dense forest of hair, past the bulging belly taking up most of the field of view, the two pendulous breasts hanging low and off to either side, bouncing and flopping with her exertions, then her happy, ecstatic face looking down at me, smirking. She winced with pleasure as my tongue toyed around her clitoris, then threw her head back as her hips ground my face ever deeper into her crotch, then returned her lust-filled face back down to observe my nearly-submerged face. Her triumph was complete. 

"It feels so good, Mr. Douglas. So good to have your face buried there in my crotch, where it belongs. Not calling me any names now, are you? What's wrong, cat got your tongue? Or perhaps it's not a cat, just a pussy. You see! I know all the words. And what about that violent little attack of a few days ago? Not choking me anymore either, I see. No, if anyone's choking, it appears to be you! Well, I'm afraid you'll just have to go on choking. I certainly prefer you where you are right now. Now you know who's boss. Lick me!. Keep going! " And she tugged even harder on my ears. 

And so on I went. My tongue and facial muscles were aching with exhaustion, yet I soldiered on. Her thick pubic hair was rubbing my face raw. I was occasionally forced to violently twist my face to one side and gasp for air to avoid suffocation. Each time, I quickly returned to my task, aided by a sharp tug on the ears by Dr. Wojcik. She laughed aloud.

"Well, I guess you do have to breathe, I suppose. Just make it quick so that you can get back to work."

On and on it went, Dr. Wojcik sometimes humping my face in a frenzy, moaning in pleasure, sometimes still, just watching me at work, ridiculing me, coaching me, making sure I did just what she wanted me to. Finally, she drove herself further and further, until, in a frenzy of humping and moaning, fluids completely covering my face, she slumped overtop of me in satisfied exhaustion. She gradually slowed down her movements, until at last she stopped completely. At her command, I stopped my activities. She huffed and puffed contentedly above me, and I snorted and gasped for air below. She absentmindedly patted my head, combing my hair with her fingers, as she settled down. With a self-satisfied sigh of pleasure, she looked contentedly down at me.

"That was wonderful. It's been so long. You did well, Mr. Douglas, quite well. I am pleased with your progress. It was a very good start. I am sure we can do even better with practise. And believe me, in the weeks and months ahead, we will both get lot's of practise."

After resting a few minutes, she lifted herself off of me, then took a half-dozen pillows, and arranged them on and around my hips and thighs, leaving a space for my penis. Reversing herself, so that her bottom faced me, she straddled me again, then slowly lowered herself down, until my lips were again pressed into her sex, then parting her labia, nose almost in her anus. Her enormous buttocks filled my field of view. She settled her head comfortably on a pillow, slightly to one side of my hips, reached over and grasped my penis with her left hand, pulled it over to herself, and sighed mightily with contentment. I could feel her breath on my bare testicles. She shifted herself back and forth once or twice, made a few more adjustments, then settled down to sleep. In just a minute or two, her steady breathing attested to the fact that she was now completely out. The quiet sound of the birds outside once again filtered into the room through the open window.

I lay there in a daze, breathing through my nose, pressed as it was into her soft rump. My mouth was still engulfed by her sex, and I had no way to shift her off of me. Besides, I dared not agitate her. Gradually my heartbeat settled down. I was not in perfect comfort, but I had slept in worse conditions. I was beyond thinking, beyond reason. I could only react to what was going on at this point, so jarring was the experience I had just gone through. Remarkably, I slept.




In the Hands of Dr. Wojcik Part 3



Chapter 12

I awoke suddenly, as I usually do, and in a state of complete confusion. The first thing I noticed was an immense pair of white buttocks forming my horizon, and the soft thighs cradling my head and cheeks. Then, the astonishing sensation of my lips covered by a hairy, fleshy mass of womanhood. With a start, it all came back to me. I had to fight the urge to violently twist away from this most unwelcome presence, locked onto my face like an alien xenomorph. I felt repulsed, yet continued to lay there motionless, nose almost on anus, breathing in her fumes, fearful of waking the sleeping giantess. I could feel that she still held my flaccid penis in her hand, clutched between her breasts, like a child clutching a doll. The heaving of her chest intermittently pressed into it. Occasionally she would sigh, or shift her weight a little bit. I became painfully aware that parts of my arms and legs had fallen asleep, and tried to shift them back and forth ever so slightly to increase the circulation. It was neither comfortable nor pleasant. 

As I lay there, I pondered what was to come next. Clearly, I was to become her sexual toy, pleasing this hairy presence with my tongue, over and over again. I could feel the thick black hairs, some in my mouth, others brushing against my cheeks and chin, My lips still penetrated her fleshy folds, and I could clearly taste the remnants of her lust-juices, as my mouth was occasionally forced to open to supplement the air taken in by my nostrils. Her smell was overpowering. A feeling of panic began to rise up within me; I needed fresh air, space. I suddenly knew I had to do something soon.. The urge to get away was irrestible. 

Finally, I couldn't take it any more. As gently as I could, I twisted my face away from her sex, nose pressed into her thigh now, and gently coughed. Nothing. I coughed again, then cleared my throat. Still nothing. I was safe. 

Or so I thought.

A moment later I felt Dr. Wojcik stir mightily. I was about to hastily return my lips into her crotch when I felt my right testicle seized by her lips, and pulled nearly entirely into her mouth. Her sharp teeth could be clearly felt against the scrotal skin. Worse yet, I felt them gently crushing the testicle itself, not too hard, only slightly painful, yet inconceivably frightening. The feeling of complete and utter helplessness and vulnerability was awful. I froze. The unseen lips gently sucked on the testicle, tongue coyly poking it, then teeth gently nipping the skin here and there. I awaited the bite that would most certainly throw me into a state of agony. Yet it never came.

The activity continued, only on the one testicle. I began to feel the onset of an erection. The warmth of her lips, her breath on my penis, and the softness of her breasts pressing aginst me, were all beginning to take their toll. I hardened further, and as I did so the head of my penis began to slide between her breasts. The complete fear of making any kind of movement that might annoy Dr. Wojcik, combined with the steady increase in my erection, was an intoxicating combination. When I was nearly fully erect, Dr. Wojcik released my testicle, then sat up. She chuckled.

"It seems that your penis still functions well, Mr. Douglas. Apparently, it wants some attention. Perhaps it would like to meet it's mistress just as your tongue did earlier. Well, have no fear. It will pay hommage to my womanhood on a regular basis. I will control it, surround it with my body, make it love me and give up its sweet offerrings to me. Not for your satisfaction, mind you, have no fear about that."

Reaching for the gown laying in a crumpled heap on the edge of the bed, she lazily clamoured down. She pulled it on. 

"I'm going to release you for a few moments. Please don't think of doing anything rash. I enjoy having you tied up, only because it emphasizes the fact that you are now mine to do with as I wish. If I choose, I may make you perform for me unbound from time to time. It makes no difference: you are still bound to me as much as if you were tied, by nature of the agreement we made earlier."

She began to unfasten my leg and wrist straps. It was a sweet relief to have the pressure removed from my skin, and some freedom of movement at last. I vigorously moved my limbs to restore cirulation, then sat up.

Dr. Wojcik looked at me, eyes flicking down to my manhood.

"Good. I want you to get off the bed and stand here."

Pulling back the lace canopy, she motioned to the foot of the bed. I climbed down and walked around. Grasping me by the shoulders, she roughly turned me so that I was facing the bed, then pushed me up against it. She tapped my feet with her own, to indicate that I was to move them closer together. The top of the mattress jutted against my belly. Reaching down below the mattress, she removed two large solid wooden blocks, about a foot square each, and placed them on either side of my feet. Reaching down, she slid steel pins fixed on the sides of the blocks into steel-ringed holes in the floor, effectively holding the blocks in place. She enthusiastically smacked me on the buttocks.

"Get up."

I climbed up carefully, not at all sure that I could balance properly on the smooth surfaces. The hard wood felt cool to the touch. The surface of the mattress was now an inch or so beneath my hanging penis. I felt my hands being pulled behind my back, and the familiar leather straps were re-attached, then tied tightly to each other. After pulling on my arms a few times to be sure that they were indeed secure, she tied the ends of the straps around the corner posts, leaving a little slack, but still tightly enough that I think a fall from the blocks would result in mne breaking or at least dislocating one or both of my arms. I was simply but effectively held in place. 

Dr. Wojcik let the canopy fall. I felt the touch of the light fabric against my back. I heard her feet pad quietly to the cabinet to my right and behind. A drawer was opened, and I could hear the sounds of items being moved. Then, the drawer was closed, and I again heard the sound of her feet as she moved into position behind me. Her hands moved between my legs, then firmly grasped my genitals. Looking down, I saw a steel cable loop encircle my penis and testicles. It wasn't as thin as piano wire, but it was thin enough that a really hard tug would more than likely break the skin. I gasped as the loop was cinched snug, and held with some kind of screw device. I felt vulnerable. A further long length of the cable hung down from my genitals to the floor and coiled around the blocks on the floor. Dr. Wojcik reached down to retreive it, then carefull lifted it up and threaded it through my buttocks. The end was tossed over the bar running horizontally across the top of the bed, then hung down again onto the mattress. Looking up, I noticed that there was a steel grooved wheel mounted on the bar, and Dr. Wojcik slid the cable over and into the groove so that the wooden bar did not get scraped or marked. The cable had several feet of length to spare after it touched the bed, and I noticed that there was a wide plastic handle, like a lawnmower pull cord, attached to the end.

Returning to the bed again, Dr. Wojcik began to arrange the pillows near the centre of the bed, two or three deep. Finally, seeing that all was correctly situated, she clamoured off the bed stood up.

"I'll be back."

I heard her feet quietly pad away, the door open, and then she was gone down the hall.

I stood still in position. I could shift my weight back and forth easily enough, even twist quite a bit from side to side, but there was no way to dismount. I waited nervously, sweating despite my inactivity. 

Five minutes passed, then ten, then twenty. I began to feel my legs growing numb. I kicked my legs a little to keep the circulation going, and as I did so I felt the steel cable chafe my bare anus a little bit between my buttocks. I sighed aloud, wondering how much longer this would take. Finally, after another ten minutes or so. Dr. Wojcik returned.

I heard the door click shut. She turned up the lights quite suddenly, so that I had to squint for a moment or two before my eyes adjusted. As she appeared in the corner of my eye, I noticed that she was carrying a tray. She carefully lifted the canopy to my right, and slid it onto the mattress. On it was a cup of coffee, a small plate of biscuits, a tiny opaque bottle, and several womens glamour magazines. Letting the canopy drop, she moved behind me to the other side, picked up two narrow cushions, and slid up onto the bed herself, again letting the canopy fall back after her. She reached over to me and placed one of the cushions in between my arm and my side, then did the same on the other side. After checking to see that they stayed in place, she arranged the other pillows some more, then turned to face me. She wore a confident smile. 

"Now you will be my lover, my young stud-horse! I have need of your desire, your energy, your male lust. I must be filled. You shall mate with me, and shall continue to do so until I am satisfied. Let's begin. I feel the need to be mated."

She carefully lay back on the cushions, then, hiking up the gown over her hips, proceeded to insert first one giant leg, then the other, into the space between my arms and my side, so that they were each resting on one of the narrow pillows. I felt as though she were a wheelbarrow that I was pushing. She adjusted her hips, bent her legs around behind me, then pulled herself in tighter to me, so that my soft penis was mashed up against her labia. Reaching down, she carefully lifted my manhood up and lay it flat on the thick bed of black hair just above her vagina. I could feel the pricklyness. She reached over with her left hand, and grasped the cable laying on the bed, pulling it gently taught. Grunting in approval, she then reached for her coffee and took several noisy slurps, before putting the mug down and reaching for a magazine. She began to read, occasionally placing the magazine down and turning the pages with her right hand, left always firmly gripping the cable-handle . She gave it occasional little tugs. I could feel it tightening around my genitals, sliding up and down imperceptibly between my buttocks.

I stood there, not wondering what to do. She seemed to have not the slightest further interest in me, other than to occasionally lower her magazine and give my penis a cursory glance. I felt the weight of her legs on my forearms. My upper legs were pressed against her fleshy buttocks, and my penis lay there on her black carpet, feeling the warmth of her belly through the pubic hair. I looked down on her facial expressions, changing as she turned from article to article, sometimes frowng, sometimes smiling, other times bored. And still, throughout it all, she continued to absent-mindedly tug on the cable, at first intermittently, then more steadily. As she pulled, I could feel the 'noose' around my manhood constrict, then relax, constrict, then relax, over and over again. I felt the first twinges of my member, the electric tingling which turned into arousal, which turned into swellng, then stiffness, then that first crucial movement of elongation, as the head speared further through the black forest. Then there was no turning back, until I had a fully erect shaft which lifted itself off the black carpet, bobbing up and down to the beat of my heart and the constrictions of her tugs on the cable.

She looked down and noticed my erection. 

"Mmmm. That looks nice, my young stud. Ready to serve me, I see."

She placed her magazine down, then reached over and took the cap off the opaque bottle. She inverted it until five or six drops of a glistening, clear lotion fell onto her palm. Reaching down, she applied the lotion to my shaft, lightly twisting her hand, pumping me a few times, until the entire shaft was glistening under the bright lights. She roughly pushed me back, until my shaft was fully withdrawn from atop her pubic hair, then shifted her hips a little higher while at the same time angling my penis down slightly. The head was now lightly pressing between the huge, wrinkly, hairy labia. The thought of my poor member being swallowed up by that grotesque, furry monster was almost more than I could stand. I hurriedly looked up, straight into her eyes.

"Begin mating, Mr. Douglas. A nice medium pace will do nicely for the moment."

And with that, she reached over and picked up the magazine once again. I saw her eyes begin reading where she had left off.

I stood there, stupified, astounded at it all, until, without even looking up, Dr. Wojcik reached over for the cable-handle, and gave it a sharp pull. The pressure 'down below' was decidedly uncomfortable. I took a deep breath, and began to slowly press my shaft into her soft warmth. I felt the first resistance, and then, as I began a slow thrusting action, I felt her obscene flesh opening up to welcome my intrusions. I was being lured in to my doom. Further and further went each thrust, further into her darkness, her private place, my erection increasing despite my revulsion. I saw my poor shaft withdrawing from the black, fleshy opening, then hurriedly thrusting in again, over and over, feeding the beast which demanded my all. I imagined how my penis must look inside her, head bulging, completely encased by her surrounding slippery flesh, driving back and forth inside her, in total darkness, as she just remained still, enjoying my frantic exertions. I began to develop my own rhythm, as my animal instincts overcame my shame and humiliation, and I humped harder and harder, in now as far as possible each time. My upper thighs banged furiously against her huge soft buttocks, as her legs chafed at my sides from the intensity of my thrusting. Soon I began to drip with sweat, panting at the exertion. The sweat trickled down my chest, into my pubic hair, then mingled with the lotion and her sexual juices. Our crotches were mashed together, my brown pubic hair meshing with her black hair, a tangled mass which joined together, became intertwined for an instant, then was pulled apart before inevitably returning to join up again, and again. I began to pound so hard that even the very base of my penis began to penetrate her lips. It was as though her sex was devouring mine, whole. 

And yet I could not stop myself. I wanted ever so badly to be able to have my hands free, to be able to to lift her buttocks, pull her close to me, assist me in my mounting. Yet they remained tied back, and I was forced to thrust with my weight and my hips alone, struggling to stay tight to her, to maintain deep penetration. Despite myself, lust had taken over, and I now needed to drive myself into her more than anything else in the world. It was completely exhausting.

Dr. Wojcik continued to read, even as the violence of my thrusting shook her body with each thrust. Her face betrayed no expression at all, and she turned the pages and glanced at the articles for all the world as though she were sitting at a roadside cafe on a sunny Saturday morning. It was infuriating to see how nonchalant she was about it all, and yet it somehow stoked my lust even further. I wanted to jar her out of her haughty attitude, make her notice my exertions, somehow acknowledge my masculinity.

Nothing.

In a fury, I banged into her harder than ever, striving to gain a firm foothold on the wooden blocks, something to give me enough of a grip to allow me plunge even harder into her, if that was even possible. I humped and thrust like a madman. The cable was an annoyance, sliding up and down between the crack of my buttocks, now lubricated by the sweat trickling down my back. It emphasized how controlled I was, how she, not I, was in charge of this 'mating' as she called it. Mating! I was her stud-horse, nothing more. Occasional moans involuntarily emerged from my throat, in between gasps for air. I began to sense that I was about to ejaculate. And still not a single sign from her! No recognition of my efforts! I stared down at her hard, plain face. Nothing! It was too much. Surely she must feel something! I felt the approach of orgasm. I was about to deposit my precious seed deep inside her most private place, and yet she couldn't seem to care less! I HAD to make her respond. My humping speed increased dramatically, and as I unleashed a final flurry of super hard, super rapid thrusts, I groaned out a final, desperate cry. In an instant, I felt myself depositing my load deep inside herthe hairy beast, over and over, feeding her, giving her what she wanted, spasms continung for several minutes after my thrusts ground to a halt. With an aching back, I continued to push myself up against her, delivering up the last of my semen to her dark, slippery depths. Her eyes remained fixed on the magainze. Exhausted, I let my head hang down to my chest, then remained still. Silence.

After several minutes, Dr. Wojcik flipped a page. Without even moving her eyes, she cleared her throat.

"All finished now, Mr. Douglas?"

I remained silent, totally spent. I could think of nothing that I could say that would make any sense whatsoever in the present circumstances. Still she refused to even look up at me.

"I'm going to require you to mate me quite regularly n the future. I find the sensation mildly pleasant. I also enjoy watching your exertions. Hopefully we can build up your stamina tothe point where you can last much longer than you did today. And we'll have to do something about your moaning. It disturbs my reading. Nevertheless, you show promise. It's been a good day."

She looked up at me finally, half-smirk on her face, eyes aglow as she saw the exhausted, beaten, humiliated look on my face.

"No, it's been a wonderful day. After I release you please dress quickly and let yourself out. You'll find a set of keys and a remote control for the front gate in an envelope at the front door. I have no further need of you today. But be warned, you must not involve yourself with any other woman, or do anything naughty to yourself. You are my stud-horse, and mine alone. Be sure to save yourself for me. Otherwise, I will have to show how very firm I am capable of being. That is all. You are dismissed."

And with that, she withdrew both legs from the pillows at my side, and pushed me away from her, exposing my still hard, glistening shaft. A small film of semen coated it. Dr. Wojcik sat up, then leaned over, and pinched the head, extracing another drop onto her index finger. She sniffed it, grunted in appreciation, then casually wiped it off onto my shaft. Pushing the magazine away, she clamoured off the bed, and, after releasing all my constraints, retreated into her bathroom. Soon afterwards the sound of the shower drifted over to me.

I felt unclean, like a soiled garment, and desperately wanted to go into my bathroom and shower myself. But I certainly didn't fancy meeting up with her again, so I hurriedly dressed and left. As the front door clicked shut behind me, I thought of how it would feel to have to open that same door again, walk down that same hall, and perform for her once more as I did today - again and again and again. I could only imagine what further torments she might have in store for me in the days, weeks, months, and - who knows? - years? that lay ahead.