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Descent Into Oral Servitude

By: krr1957



Chapter 1

As they lifted me on to the stretcher I knew that I was in serious trouble in more ways than one. The doctors had warned me, months previously, what would happen if I played rugby again and I had promised my wife faithfully. As far as she was concerned I was out on the golf course but I had not been able to resist when the call came from my old team. They had reached the semi-finals but had lost their kicker. I thought that, as a full back, I could stay out of trouble and I knew that I still had the old touch with the boot. How wrong could I be? The last thing I remember was two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle bound second row forward bearing down on me and then the sickening crunch as I was taken to the ground.

At first, it was feared my back was broken but x-rays showed some neck damage and some heavy bruising of the spine. The doctors told me that I would have to wear a back brace for a few days and that I would regain full use of my arms and legs.

Karen came to the hospital as soon as she could but when she looked in on me, in my private room, her face was as black as thunder.

“They tell me you were playing rugby. Is it true?”

“Karen, I …”

My hesitation was enough to tell her all she needed to know.

“I’m too bloody angry to talk about this now. We’ll discuss it when I get back.”

It was only as she walked out, slamming the door behind her, that it dawned on me that she meant on her return from Turkey. The museum was sending her out to Istanbul for four days to discuss some new acquisitions. 

My existence became miserable. I spent the whole time worrying about Karen and the future of our relationship and physically I could do nothing for myself. My arms and legs were next to useless and I needed help even to eat. The nurse appointed to me was businesslike and unsympathetic and I got the impression that she thought that male contact sports were only slightly less ridiculous than the men who chose to participate in them. Her name was Heather and I guess she was in her late thirties. She was reasonably good looking and reminded me of an aunt with whom I had lost contact many years previously. 

Boredom soon got the better of me but Heather made it clear that she had no time for idle chat. She told me that she was going off duty at seven and that the night nurse would then look in on me from time to time. At around eight I needed to use a bed bottle and I squeezed the alert switch. Heather’s replacement was a young Irish girl named Roselyn and, unfortunately for me, she was every mans fantasy nurse. She was short, slim and big busted and she had a sun burst of curly red hair framing a cheerful elfin face. Just knowing that she was going to have to handle my cock was enough to set things astir and, as she pulled back the sheet, it was already twitching into life. 

“You’ll have to behave yourself if I’m to get this into the bottle.”

“I’m sorry, just give me a minute.”

She had the good grace to pretend that she had something to do elsewhere in the room but at one point she reached over to draw the blinds and my eyes were drawn to the pert outline of her backside. I can only lay the blame on the painkillers that had been pumped into me for, within seconds, I had a raging erection and was now overtaken by a newer, more desperate need. 

“My, you are a naughty boy.”

“I’m sorry, I ….”

“Don’t apologize, we see a lot of things in our line of work, here, let me help.”

I was expecting the ignominy of a cold towel, or something similar, and so it came as a surprise when she took me in hand and began to slowly rub me. Her hands were delicate, with long fingers, and my modest eight inches seemed bigger in her grasp than in the more familiar grip of my wife. Following this train of thought made me feel guilty and I hovered on the verge of telling her to stop but Roselyn proved to be extremely skilled and I was getting there fast. Her hand moved slowly and rhythmically up and down the whole length of my shaft and she seemed to read the degree of my arousal almost telepathically. 

It only needed a few more strokes when the harsh tone of the beeper sounded. Roselyn stopped immediately and checked her pager.

“I’m sorry I have to go.”

“Please! Don’t leave me like this!”

The frustration of the next few minutes was almost indescribable. I tried desperately to move my arms but it was to no avail. Finally, my erection wilted and I was back to square one. It was nearly three quarters of an hour before Roselyn finally returned by which time my bladder was almost bursting. She apologized and briskly inserted my limp manhood into the bed bottle. I then found just how hard it is to piss whilst lying down and the more so when being watched by a pretty nurse. Eventually my bladder relaxed and Roselyn took away the bottle but as she started to clean me up my cock misbehaved again. 

“Look, I know I shouldn’t ask, but is there any chance…?”

Her reaction, given what had transpired earlier, took me by surprise. Her face flashed to anger and she spoke tersely.

“Just what do you think I am?”

With that she turned and left leaving me totally confused. I suppose my mistake was to assume that she found me appealing. In the past I had never had trouble attracting women and now, at thirty one and married, I knew I could still draw admiring looks. I was still thinking this over when Roselyn returned looking a little calmer.

“You’re very sure of yourself aren’t you? Well I’ve decided you need a little lesson.”

I tried laughing it off.

“What do you mean?”

She did not reply. Instead, she turned aside my hospital gown and took hold of my cock once more. If this was a lesson then it was one I was willing to learn. She had applied some sort of lubricant to her hand and I came to erection almost immediately. She started to stroke me with the same easy rhythm she had used before and it was not long before I felt my body grow rigid as the inevitable outcome approached. Notwithstanding the painkillers I felt my neck protesting but I was too far gone to care. Just a couple more strokes was all it would have taken but just as I started to groan with relief she took her hand away and left my erection throbbing in empty air.

“Please, don’t stop! Not now …”

“I’ve other patients to attend to. I’ll see you later.”

She left the room without another word and once again I willed my arms to co-operate but it was totally useless. The next hour seemed to drag into eternity but, at last, she returned. She acted as though nothing untoward had happened as she checked my temperature and pulse and then administered another dose of painkillers. I was just wondering what, if anything, I should say to her when, as if it were simply another routine medical procedure, she took hold of me again. 

“Thank you….”

The word was soft spoken but my gratitude was heartfelt. She quickly brought me to erection again but this time she did not stroke me. She used both hands to knead my cock as though it were a piece of clay to be worked. At first I did not find this as stimulating as when she rubbed me before but, after a few minutes, I felt the tension building again and I knew that it would be good enough to bring me off. She gradually increased speed and I felt my heart beating faster as though attempting to keep up. 

“Yes…yes…”

I urged her on and, to the extent that I could, I tried to thrust with her but, as my balls braced themselves for inevitable release, she stopped altogether. 

“Please, for God’s sake…”

But God didn’t come into it. She took me to the brink twice more and then left me again feeling more tense than ever.

When she returned exactly an hour later I was prepared to plead.

“Please, either let me come or leave me alone.”

“Oh don’t be such a spoilsport, we’re just getting started, besides, it makes the night pass quicker… for me leastways.”

Her soft Irish lilt would, at any other time, have struck me as incredibly sexy but now it just seemed at odds with the cruelty that she was prepared to inflict. I determined that I would resist her and I tried to focus my mind elsewhere as she took hold of me again but it was as futile as trying to hold water in my hands. My body betrayed me within seconds.

“Oh, is that for me?”

I was not sure if she was referring to my erection or the bead of pre-cum that now glistened at the very tip. Either way, she seemed encouraged. She started stroking again milking more moisture which she used as lubricant and so she set up a vicious circle. 

“Okay now…would you like to come?”

“Please…”

My voice was hoarse as I forced the word out.

“Well, if you’re a good lad I’ll see what I can do for you … in an hours time.”

I could not help myself. I shouted out to her as she walked out on me yet again.

The next sixty minutes were a nightmare. On the one hand the long wait held out the promise of release but, on the other, there was the prospect of even more frustration. When she did return my cock was mindless in its response. I was fully erect before she even reached the bed.

“Pleased to see me then?”

I nodded mutely, not trusting myself to speak, and she took hold of me immediately. This time she held me more loosely, barely closing her fingers around the shaft, and she began to stroke me almost lazily.

“Everyone else is settled so I can give you a bit more of my time.”

Her innocent smile, as she said this, did not betray whether or not this was a good thing. In the event , she carried on stroking me in the same leisurely fashion for the next ten minutes at the end of which my body was sheened in perspiration and my balls were painfully cramped. I tried to stay still so as not to give away just how close I was getting but she was growing more adept at reading the tension in my body and once again she stopped at the very edge.

I was crying tears of frustration as she deserted me but, in the end, I was able to fall into a fitful sleep. At first, I dreamt about the accident but later I was plagued with images of Roselyn in various states of undress and I found myself with another fierce erection. I came awake with a start to find her at my bedside with her cock in my hand.

She woke me up every hour after that and by the end of the night I thought I would go insane. I knew that she would go off duty at around seven a.m. and I hoped and prayed that she would put me out of my misery before she left but she just left me hovering closer than ever. She kissed her fingertip and touched it to my nose.

“See you tonight lover boy.”

Heather came back on duty and I toyed with the idea of lodging a complaint but who would believe me and how could I prove it? It would, no doubt, be put down to a fantasy brought on by the strong painkillers.

I spent the whole day feeling sorry for myself and catching up on lost sleep waking only to be spoon fed an instantly forgettable meal. The hours dragged but finally seven p.m. came around and with it the change of shifts. Roselyn came in looking her usual cheerful self and for a few moments I hoped that things had returned to a semblance of normality. I was quickly disabused. She locked the door and pulled the bed sheet away from me.

“You didn’t think I’d forgotten you did you?”

As she freed my manhood from the confines of my gown I could not help but ask.

“Why, just tell me why.”

“Well, truth be told, I didn’t know it could be such fun. A wee slip of a girl like me and a big strong feller such as yourself and not a thing you can do about it.”

She came back every hour on the hour but now she was adding some variety. Sometimes she just held my shaft whilst she gently massaged my balls. For a moment or two this helped to ease the cramps but when she stopped they returned with a vengeance. Later she licked the pad of her thumb and spent long minutes just rubbing at the frenum where the foreskin joined the shaft. By the end of the night I was begging her for relief but that only served to heighten her enjoyment.

The next day the doctor was worried about me. My eyes were bloodshot from a lack of proper sleep and my blood pressure was raised. I desperately wanted to confide in him but a final, perverse, vestige of pride prevented me.

When Roselyn came back on duty that evening she wasted no time. She took hold of my cock but, both to her surprise and mine, I did not come to erection. She tried all her tricks but it seemed as though my body had closed down. I gave a silent sigh of relief and assumed that she would leave me alone but she was not to be put off so easily.

“It’s just a little more stimulation you’ll be wanting.”

As I watched in disbelief she began to unbutton her uniform and allowed it to fall off of her shoulders. Underneath she was wearing a sheer, pale blue, bra through which her excited nipples were clearly visible. I knew I should have closed my eyes but all sense of reason had fled. I stared as she slipped her hand inside and took her nipple between her thumb and finger. She teased it suggestively and I became hard almost immediately.

“There’s a good boy. I knew you could do it.”

For the next minute she stroked me vigourously, bringing me quickly to the boil, only to stop as suddenly as she started. She then tidied herself up and left to do her rounds. Throughout the night she returned at regular intervals and each time she revealed more of her desirable body. It was a frustrating striptease that lasted several hours culminating with her stroking me whilst wearing nothing more than a pair of black stay-up stockings. She was gorgeous to behold and I almost came just from looking.

By the time the sun rose I was convinced that, if I had to go through it one more time, I would die of a heart attack but the morning brought fresh embarrassment. Roselyn handed over to Heather and they did their round together so that Heather could be updated. When they came into my room the mere sight of Roselyn was, by now, enough to bring on an erection 

Heather did a good job of ignoring the tented sheet but Roselyn was not going to let it go. 

“Yer man here is always so excited to see me.”

Heather smiled, in spite of herself, but when Roselyn leaned across to whisper in her ear her eyes widened and she reappraised me. 

“Here, see for yourself…”

Roselyn took hold of the bed sheet and whipped it off like a magician performing a trick.

“…I reckon that he would give almost anything for a bit of relief.”

In the next few seconds Heathers face conveyed a mix of emotions. At first she looked shocked, then pensive and, finally, amused.

“When did you last give him painkillers?”

“About half an hour ago. They should be working by now.”

Heather checked the corridor and then came up close to me.

“Is she right? Would you do anything?”

“Please…just help me out.”

“Well if we do something for you it’s only fair that you do something in return.”

At that moment I was actually frightened but then I felt Roselyn’s familiar touch on my shaft and I gave a groan of frustration. She worked me slowly but surely whilst, at the same time, gently squeezing my balls. Heather stood watching her eyes switching back and forth between Roselyn’s busy fingers and my contorted face.

“Is he ready?”

“Oh yes…he’s ready.”

Without another word Heather reached under the starched blue skirt of her uniform and divested herself of a pair of sensible white cotton panties then, with surprising agility, she got up onto the bed and took up a position straddling my chest. It dawned on me then exactly what she had in mind. 

“Please…I’m not up to this.”

The truth was I did not like to do it at all and it was a constant source of friction between Karen and me. At the outset of our relationship I used to go down on her often enough but once we were married, and the first flood of passion had receded, I had grown more reluctant. 

Heather looked down into my eyes from on high.

“Well it seems to me that you don’t have a lot of choice, besides, just think of the reward.”

To illustrate the point Roselyn gently pinched the head of my cock between a moistened finger and thumb and my whole body cramped as it screamed out for release. The next thing I heard was Heather laughing and then, in a single graceful movement, she shifted herself forward and flipped her skirt over my head. I just had a split second to register the fact that she was a natural blonde before I found my face engulfed in her hot, moist, sex. I instinctively tried to turn aside but the back brace allowed me almost no movement and she clamped me between her fulsome thighs for good measure. After that she remained still but Roselyn, for her part, began to torment me again and I found myself trying to draw more breath than was immediately available to me. I felt my face flushing and I had no choice but to open my mouth wide. As soon as I did so Heather moved slightly to cover the opening and then she relaxed and allowed her weight to bear down. It was obvious that Heather was not new to this and only afterwards did it occur to me that she was more turned on than was warranted by the short period of time since she walked in the room. 

I could only breathe through my nose and I was assailed by a mixture of smells. There were the clean smells of fresh linen and citrus, presumably a shower gel, but overpowering them both was Heathers own earthy scent. I remained still, determined not to co-operate, but Roselyn’s fingers were still working their magic and I could not help but squirm.

“That’s more like it.”

It was Heathers voice, barely heard, and as she spoke she leaned forward slightly and two things happened at once. My nostrils were pressed closed and I automatically tried to breathe through my mouth with the result that I was suddenly inhaling moisture. The taste was rich and cloying and I felt the need to cough but in order to do that I needed to draw in air and she was not allowing me any.

“Now might be a good time to start using your tongue…”

In the hot, damp, darkness between her thighs I could not tell who had spoken but I knew when I had no choice. I pushed out my tongue and it slid easily inside her. 

“Good boy…”

She settled back allowing me to breathe through my nose once again and, at the same time, driving my tongue deeper. Meanwhile, Roselyn, cranked up the tempo and brought me back to the edge only to hold me teetering at the brink. I desperately wanted to come but my immediate need was to get Heather off of me. I did the only thing I could. I worked my tongue deep inside and licked for all I was worth. It seemed to have the desired effect as she leaked more moisture and pressed herself down even more heavily onto my face. I sought out her clitoris, in the hope of speeding things along, but she was content and made it clear with subtle movements of her pelvis that she wanted me to stay exactly as I was. I lost track of time and my tongue began to tire but then, thankfully, I felt her whole body begin to shudder and the flow of moisture suddenly became a choking flood. From somewhere in a different universe I heard an ecstatic cry and then she was still. 

She remained where she was for another minute or two and my attention again became focused on my own need as Roselyn, keeping a firm grip on my shaft, began to gently stroke her finger along my perineum. It was driving me crazy but, at last, Heather lifted herself off of my face and I could breathe relatively fresh air.

I must have looked a mess. My whole face was wet with a mixture of perspiration and Heathers juices and my hair was matted to my head. In spite of the painkillers my neck was hurting and my spine felt as though it had been in tension for hours as a result of Roselyn’s cruel teasing but, at last I had earned my reward…or so I thought.

Heather stood on the opposite side of the bed to Roselyn and, almost before I knew it, she had hold of me in her, much hotter, hand. She began to stroke me with an expertise almost the equal of Roselyn’s and when she spoke her voice was still husky with lust.


Descent Into Oral Servitude



“Your turn.”

If I had any doubts they soon evaporated. Roselyn began to strip off with almost unseemly haste and, in no time at all, she was completely naked. I felt my erection throbbing even more violently but Heather was completely unfazed. She stopped stroking until I had settled down again and then she resumed with the same easy motion. I do not think I had ever been harder but with the stiffness came an aching pain which could only be relieved in one way and now Roselyn told me the price. She climbed onto the bed and straddled my chest in the same way as Heather had. 

“I’ve dreamed of this for the past day or two. Make me come and, if you make it good, I’ll do the same for you.” 

She licked her lips as she said it, holding out an even greater promise, but I was all but done in. She sensed that I needed a brief respite, or perhaps she was just trying to tease me even more, whichever, she moved slightly forward so that her knees were either side of my head and her sex was pressing against my chin. I looked up into her eyes but the lower half of her face was obscured by the impressive sight of her heavy breasts and, as soon as she was sure of my attention, she began to rub her nipples which were already starkly erect. This triggered another surge in my groin but my body had decided that it had taken enough. The pains in my neck and back reasserted themselves and for the first in what seemed like ages I felt my erection begin to wane. Heather cradled my balls in one hand and began to stroke more firmly with the other but I was getting beyond recall.

Roselyn could see what was happening but she was not going to be denied.

“Please, just leave me alommmfffff.”

She came down on my face but I managed to get my mouth closed and I steadfastly refused to co-operate. 

“Come on …be a good boy.”

For a moment there was a stalemate as she rocked very gently back and forth to try and encourage me but then her patience ran out.

“Okay, have it your own way.”

So saying, she lifted herself up and I silently congratulated myself but the celebration was premature. She simply did a half turn and then settled herself once again but, as she did so, she used her hands to spread her pert buttocks. From afar her backside was prize-winning but, now that I was suffocating beneath it, it seemed to take on much greater proportions. My nose was firmly trapped in the deep, well defined, cleft and I had little choice but to open my mouth to breathe. I was just resigning myself to surrendering once more when it became clear that it was no longer my tongue that she was interested in. She braced her hands on my chest and slowly began to move. She rubbed herself over the whole of my face from my chin to my forehead and then back again and, as she did so, she added fresh lubrication. She repeated the process a couple of times until my face was covered in her juices and then she began in earnest. She kept her upper body still and all movement came from her hips. She set a lazy pace but she was relentless, sliding back and forth ever more easily. It was both a demeaning and a painful experience as her well trimmed growth of pubic hair rasped at my face. I was forced to keep my eyes closed and slowly but surely she was driving moisture into my nostrils so that it felt as if I was drowning. It became a battle of survival but she was slowly speeding up and I could hear her grunting with effort. I stopped trying to resist, hoping that the end was near, but, suddenly, she stopped dead.

In the silence I could hear my own heartbeat and then Roselyn spoke.

“Hi there …”

I was given no time to ponder the significance of the pause because she began again and this time she was more enthusiastic than ever. She drove herself on, moving ever faster, with even less regard for my well being. She was working her clitoris on the bridge of my nose and then her thighs began to tremble. Her orgasm, when it came, seemed to last an age. Every time I thought it was over she would find the strength to push herself across my face once more as she wrung out the last remnants of pleasure.

At the finish she almost fell off of me and whilst she got herself dressed again Heather cleaned me up with a face cloth. Once they had me tidied up Roselyn fixed me up with the hands free kit of my mobile phone and put the phone itself into my hand.

“What do I want this for?”

“You might want to phone your wife…she looked in on you ten minutes ago.”

Chapter 2

I was angry, frantic and frustrated. Karen’s mobile was off but I assumed that, as she was back in the country a day early, she may have gone to the museum. When I tried there I was told she was unreachable even when I stressed that I was her husband and that it was an emergency. After two hours of balked calls I assumed that she was deliberately ignoring me and so I took the only available option. I phoned home and left a message on the answering machine but, as soon as I was finished, I began to regret it. I am over six feet tall and in pretty good shape, thanks to a regular gym regime, and here was I suggesting that two nurses had forced themselves on me. It sounded stupid when you heard it but I consoled myself with the thought that Karen knew just what a helpless position I was in.

She did not call me back, nor did she visit, and I began to wonder if Roselyn had been telling the truth. Had she tricked me into making a total idiot of myself? The one thing from which I could draw comfort was the sudden replacement of the two nurses. My midday meal was fed to me by a male nurse who refused to be drawn on any questions concerning Heather and, that night, the duty nurse was a real harridan who must have been in her sixties. 

The next morning the consultant came to see me and told me I could be discharged. I still required bed rest but there was no reason why I still needed to be in the hospital. I was digesting the implications of this when he told me that an ambulance had been arranged and that my wife would be at home to meet me. Needless to say I was overjoyed. 

Karen did not say a word as I was stretchered up the stairs. She had them put me in the spare room, which made sense because it had single beds, and then we were alone. Karen was wearing a dark, two piece, business suit of the sort she favoured for work and, not for the first time, I was struck by her resemblance to the actress Kristin Scott Thomas but I would never tell her so. 

“So, can I assume that you believe me?”

“Not at first, but when I thought about it it’s probably not something you would do of your own volition and it was fairly obvious that, despite that woman’s best endeavours, you weren’t turned on by it.”

I gave a silent prayer of thanks that she had not walked in the room a little earlier. 

“So, am I forgiven?”

“That depends.”

“Depends?”

“On how co-operative you are in the next few days.”

I smiled at the thought.

“Well the doctor tells me that I won’t be going anywhere under my own steam for a couple of days yet so I guess I’m yours to command.”

She looked at me just a little oddly.

“Yes, I suppose you are….”

She paused for a moment as though wrestling with her own thoughts.

“…I have a little confession to make.”

For a second or two I felt my guts churn but then she broke into a smile and continued.

“It turned me on…seeing you like that…I had to find a toilet so that I could masturbate…I haven’t done that since I was a schoolgirl.”

By that she meant using a toilet for the purpose. Karen liked to masturbate and she made no secret of it. When she traveled on business she was happy to avail herself of the hotel porn channels and whilst, in one sense, I felt demeaned by it at least it meant that she remained faithful. The upside was that, whenever she returned from a business trip, she was fully charged and the sex was always great. It occurred to me that, now she was back from Turkey, it was going to be some while before I was any use to her but then a second, more worrying, thought entered my mind. If she accepted that I was acting under duress then surely that must have implied a degree of suffering; in which case, why did she find it arousing?

I was still mulling this over when Karen crossed the room and closed the curtains.

“That’s okay, daylight’s fine.”

“Not for what I have in mind.” 

As I watched she unfastened her skirt and unwound it from her waist. 

“I’m not sure I’m up to this…”

Even as I said it my manhood decided otherwise and it began to stir inside my pajamas and the more so when she slipped out of her tights and panties. She did not bother to take off her jacket and, somehow, this made her look incredibly sexy. 

“Are you sure?”

As she said it she parted her legs slightly and stood with hands on hips. I reached full erection within seconds and it sprang free from the confines of my pajama bottoms to see what all the fuss was about. 

Karen approached the bed and I resigned myself to my pleasurable fate; if she was prepared to do all the work that was fine by me. She leant over and kissed me briefly on the lips and then she moved up onto the bed.

I closed my eyes and groaned in anticipation but I opened them again when I felt her weight settling on my chest. 

“Ready lover?”

She slid forward positioning her sex over my mouth.

“Karen, please, not like this … my neck still hurts.”

“Please….”

She said it with a mock sulk and flashed me her “little girl lost” smile. I desperately wanted to refuse but, however you looked at it, I was still in the bad books and trying to make up lost ground. Reluctantly, I put out my tongue and gently started to lick at her outer lips which were fringed with a neat Mohican of dark hair. This was something she definitely liked and she settled a little closer to give me better access.

It was odd being underneath her in that way. In the whole of our relationship I could only remember having done it that way twice and both times I had been mildly drunk. If I had to do it I liked to be on top so that I remained in control. It was, to my mind, an act of subservience and I was only really comfortable with it in a classic sixty-nine so that neither partner could claim mastery of the situation. 

“Suck them …”

This was another new departure. Karen had never complained about my technique in the past and she had certainly never expressed preferences. I took the slick fold of her labia between my lips and sucked very gently. There was something immediately comforting about her familiar taste and I began to tease the trapped flesh with my tongue. She remained very still and she seemed contented as, for the next few minutes, I alternated between the two sides of her sex.

“Deeper now…”

She gave a small wriggle just to reinforce the message and so I braced my tongue and pressed against her inner lips. They yielded easily and I was immediately struck by how hot she was inside. I burrowed deeper and then I began to stab my tongue slowly in and out. 

“OOhhhh yes…that’s nice.”

I knew I had hit the spot as I felt her juices trickling down my chin and I do not think that her scent had ever been stronger. It seemed to act on my subconscious because my erection raged more fiercely than ever and I was now desperate to get her there so that she could help assuage my own increasing need. 

I probed upwards, seeking out her clitoris, but she immediately put her hand on the top of my head and tipped it back down..

“Not yet …”

I begrudgingly resumed my gentle probing but now she was growing more excited and her body began to writhe. I tried to stay with her but her sex was a raw pink maw rubbing over my face. I tolerated it for as long as I could and I was on the verge of an angry outburst when she suddenly lifted herself. I caught a glimpse of her face and it was a picture of pure lust but it was a short-lived vision. She brought her hand down to her sex and stretched herself open to reveal her excited clitoris standing proud of its fleshy hood. 

“Suck it!”

This was not the Karen I knew but I was given no time to think about it. She dropped down, almost brutally, covering my mouth. Now I just wanted to get it over with and so I pursed my lips around the tight button of nerve endings and began to suck. 

I met with almost immediate success as her body began to judder and so I licked as well. She immediately went into melt down. She began screaming obscenities and took hold of my head in both her hands. For the next few seconds it was as if she wanted to push my head up inside her. I could hardly breathe and she was wetter than I had ever known her to be. Then, almost as quickly as it had begun, it was over. She got off the bed on to unsteady legs and tried to calm her breathing. It took her a few moments to compose herself during which time she managed to get back into her skirt.

To my own surprise I was still maintaining a healthy erection and, now that I had played my part, I reckoned it was time to reap the reward. 

“My little friend would like to play.”

“He’ll have to wait until later. I’m going to be late for the office.”

I could not believe what I was hearing.

“Karen, you can’t leave me like this.”

“I’m sorry I’ve got to go.”

I had to make an effort to swallow down my anger.

“Well at least clean me up before you go.”

She brought her face close to mine.

“You do reek of me don’t you? You know what, I think I’ll leave you just as you are and then you’ll be reminded of me all day.”

“Karen, come on, don’t be stupid!”

“See you later.”

I shouted after her but it was to no avail. I heard her go downstairs and then into the shower room. Twenty minutes later the front door closed and she was gone. I was so angry that it took me a few minutes to realize just what being alone meant in practical terms. How was I going to feed myself and, worse still, what about using the toilet?

After two hours I was in torment. Now that Karen’s scent had grown stale it was not pleasant to be compelled to draw it in with every breath and it was also making my face feel incredibly itchy. But that was not the worst problem. I was desperate to go to the toilet and for a quarter of an hour I had sported a painful, urine fuelled, erection. I had just resigned myself to wetting the bed when I heard the front door being opened. Karen was home and I was overcome with a sense of relief and barely controlled rage. 

When I heard her footsteps on the stairs I was sorely tempted to relieve myself just to spite her but the woman who came into the bedroom was most certainly not Karen. She was not only much younger but probably twice the weight.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m the day nurse, didn’t your wife tell you? Your medical insurance provides for an agency nurse whilst you remain incapacitated.”

She seemed unsurprised at the state I was in and she went quickly to work. She donned a disposable apron and a pair of latex gloves and then she took out two aerosol cans from her bag. The first one contained a lubricating gel which she dispensed into the palm of her hand.

“I hope you don’t mind. It’s easier while you’re like this.”

She began to spread the gel over my, now painful, erection and immediately induced a new element of frustration. I was not sure whether or not to complain or encourage but then she stopped as suddenly as she had started. She picked up the second aerosol, aimed it at my cock, and fired off a short burst. I yelled in surprise and pain. The whole of my groin was enveloped with a numbing coldness and my erection instantly wilted.

“It’s generally used for freezing sports injuries but I find it does the trick.”

With brisk efficiency she slipped a rubber catheter tube over my shriveled manhood and connected it via a plastic hose to a collection pouch. Having satisfied herself that all was well she went through to the bathroom and came back with a damp sponge. She stood over me and looked at me oddly before she started to sponge my face. Once I was clean she left me and only reappeared at lunch time to bring me a meal. 

Boredom set in quickly and by the time Karen finally arrived home a little after eight I was so glad to see her that my morning’s anger all but evaporated. She showered and when she came back into the bedroom she was wearing a simple blue silk kimono. It was loosely tied, affording teasing glimpses of her breasts as she moved, and I immediately felt a pleasant twinge in the area of my groin. 

She smiled as she drew closer but there was something about her that I could not quite put my finger on. 

“Are you ready to play?”

I tried to keep my reply lighthearted.

“As long as you’re ready to pay your debt.”

“We’ll talk debts a little later.”

With that enigmatic remark she hopped lightly onto the bed and immediately straddled my face.

“Karen, please, play fair. You had your fun this morning.”

“And I’ll have it again tonight. I want you to eat me.”

“No! Now come on. This is not funny.”

My body tensed with anger and, much to my surprise I found that I had actually managed to move my arms. It was only a little movement but it was a start. Karen noticed too but she could see that I was still pathetically weak. 

“It looks as though I’ll have to take advantage of you while I can.”

“Karen, I’m serious. Get off of me.”

She ignored my entreaty and knelt up over my face so that her sex was just inches from my mouth.

“Karen, I’ll bite you, I swear.”

At that moment I meant it. She was my wife after all and, even though I was in the wrong, I felt that I was deserving of some sympathy. 

“So be it.”

She got off of the bed and I tried to smooth the waters. 

“Look, I’m sorry.”

She ignored me and went over to where the nurse had left a supplies box earlier in the day. She spoke as she began looking through it.

“The doctor told me you were in no danger but he said that, for a few days at least, there was a very slight danger that you might have a fit. He instructed me on how to stop a patient swallowing their tongue and how to keep the airways clear…”

When she turned to face me again she was holding a plastic tube. It was about four inches long with a semi circular profile and was fixed to an elasticated band. 

“…here let me demonstrate.”

“What are you doing!”

I could not resist as she slipped the band behind my head and held the tube in front of my face. Too late, I tried to shut my mouth but she had already let it go so that the elastic pulled it between my teeth. The flattened bottom of the tube pressed down on my tongue and it rested just short of the back of my throat. It was painfully uncomfortable but no doubt ruthlessly efficient for its intended purpose. 

I began to swear but all I was capable of was a strangled gargle. 

Whilst I continued to struggle she returned to the medical box and pulled out a wide necked plastic funnel. Ignoring my barely coherent expletives she got back onto the bed and straddled my head but this time she pressed her knees to my ears so that I could not move. She inserted the funnel into the ventilator tube and watched with amusement as I grew angrier still.

“Seeing you like that makes me so hot.”

She allowed me a few more seconds of futile struggle and then she knelt up over me. As I watched she brought her hand down to her sex and began to rub her immaculately manicured nail through her furrow. The ease with which it was gently swallowed showed that she had not been lying and she quickly introduced a second finger. Within seconds she was slowly probing herself whilst at the same time she used her thumb to stimulate her clitoris. 

I had seen her masturbating before but never from so close a vantage point. It was like watching a porn film except that films could not convey the heat and the all enveloping scent. I found myself taking in the tiniest of details, the single bristle where her bikini waxing was not quite perfect, the tiny red spot on the inside of her thigh which was, in fact, a birthmark and, not least, the way her fingers teased out creamy strands from deep inside. 




Descent Into Oral Servitude



She was in no hurry. She teased herself languidly and paused from time to time when she felt in danger of coming too quickly. Once or twice I tried to protest at the indignity but she simply smiled and continued to ignore me like some unruly child. Her whole body was glistening with a sheen of perspiration, even though the room itself was cool, and I hoped that it would soon be over not least because my jaw was aching badly. The tube held my teeth only an inch apart but with each passing minute the strain was increasing. 

Eventually, she began to work her fingers a little deeper but, as she did so, a single drop of moisture formed at her knuckle. Even as I watched it grew more pendulous and then, with an audible plop, it dropped into the funnel. I imagined it slowly creeping downwards and I was overcome with impotent rage. She was using me as little more than a receptacle and there was nothing I could do about it. Finally, it reached the back of my throat and I swallowed reflexively. After that drops formed at regular intervals each, in turn, giving way to gravity and dropping into the funnel. My mouth was filled with the taste of her and I could not call on enough saliva to clear it. In the greater scheme of things it was not a lot of moisture but, trapped as I was, it seemed a never-ending flow.

“Do I taste sweet?”

Her voice was unsteady as she began to slowly increase the pace and, as she did so, the drops fell more quickly. I had never thought in terms of any one woman being wetter than another, least of all Karen, but I was in for a rude awakening.. She used one hand to hold herself open and then attacked herself with two fingers of the other. She was pushing them in and out of herself with almost unbelievable speed and the drips gave way to a steady trickle. She could hold back no longer and with a rising scream she started to come. As she did so she ejaculated. There could be no other word for it. She held herself close to the mouth of the funnel as squirts of moisture noisily hit the sides. I had to swallow hard or choke. Even when it was over she teased out a last few drops and ensured that I enjoyed the benefit. 

Finally, she slid off of the bed and I tried to hurl another stream of invective but she just smiled at the dribbling nonsense that emerged from my gagged mouth. As I watched she picked up a fresh urine pouch and pulled off the soft rubber cap that acted as a seal on the attached length of plastic tubing then, thankfully, she removed the plastic funnel from my mouth. I waited impatiently for her to take out the ventilator so that I could really let her know what I thought but she simply adjusted it so that it was not so close to the back of my throat. What came next took me by surprise. She dropped the rubber cap into my mouth and I had to act quickly to prevent myself from swallowing it. I held it between my teeth and gums but my mouth was now filled with the taste of fresh rubber. 

“This little exercise should help to strengthen your tongue and, with what I have in mind over the next few days, you’ll need all the strength at your disposal.”

I do not know what had come over her; I was seeing a vicious streak that had never manifested itself before. I desperately wanted to talk it out, to find out what was going on, but the ventilator still made conversation impossible. 

She picked up the funnel again, pushed it into the tube of the fresh pouch, and then, to my amazement she put it between her legs. I had seen her using the toilet from time to time and I had never been comfortable with it but this was much worse. She half squatted in the middle of the bedroom and then relaxed her bladder. The pouch slowly began to fill and it was obvious that she was in need. By the time she had finished the bag was heavily swollen. 

She stood upright and examined the contents but then, even more bizarrely, she pinched the tube closed and used the plastic hook on the bottom of the pouch to hang it from the beds wrought iron headboard. 

“You might want to put the cap on your tongue.” 

Only at that instant did I finally realize what she had in mind. For a second or two I waited for her to laugh, to confirm that it was a joke, but then I saw that she was in deadly earnest. I made a superhuman effort to try and twist my head away but it was futile. I screamed at her as she started to push the tube down through the centre of the ventilator..

“Are you ready?”

Through my panic I knew what I had to do. I desperately worked the rubber cap onto my tongue and pressed it up against the bottom of the tube as it emerged into my mouth.

“Good boy. You’ve got the idea.”

I tried to say no by shaking my head but if she was aware of the tiny movements she ignored them. She gently opened her finger and thumb and I watched, in horror, as the tubing began to fill. 

“See you shortly.” 

I gave another mute scream but she was already on the way out of the room. I remained still for a moment, contemplating my predicament, and then tried to push the cap back into the tube. A warm salty taste told me I was failing and so I pressed the cap against the opening as best I could and fought down the urge to vomit. I remained like that for the next few minutes and strained my ears to try and establish when Karen might come back to put me out of my misery.

It felt like hours, but in reality was probably no longer than ten minutes, before she finally returned and I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. I noticed that she had dressed again and reapplied her makeup, which struck me as odd, but my immediate concern was the pouch. She approached the bed and inspected it.

“Well done. Let’s see if you can keep it up for a couple of hours, I’ve got to go out.”

She had turned on her heel and gone before the shock had fully registered. For the next few seconds I lay perfectly still praying that she would come back in and laugh it off but the sound of the front door and then the distinctive roar of her Alfa Romeo shattered my hopes. 

At first I found that, if I just relaxed, it was easy to keep the pressure applied but as time wore on my whole face started to ache and it required a conscious effort to hold on. I started counting in my head to try and get some idea of the passing of time but I did not have the discipline to stay on track. I guessed that an hour had passed, but Karen had said “a couple of hours” – what did that mean? My tongue felt thick in my mouth, my face was bathed in sweat, and I knew that I could not hold out a lot longer. The only thing that kept me going was the constant whirl of frantic thoughts as I tried to understand why my wife had suddenly turned into an outright sadist. Surely one illicit game of rugby was not enough in itself? 

Perversely, I found that my mouth was dry and I was getting very thirsty. Every now and again my tongue made an involuntary swallowing motion and a tiny amount of salty fluid leeched into my mouth which only made things worse. As more, seemingly ever longer, minutes ticked by my anger grew and with it a determination that I would not give in. My thoughts became delirious and many of them centered on acts of revenge. Then, finally, I heard the car and the immediate sense of relief almost fooled me into relaxing. 

Karen seemed in no hurry. I heard her moving around downstairs and then, at long last, I heard her footfalls on the stairs. When she walked in the room she had a determined look on her face and for a good half minute she just looked down at me as I begged her with my eyes to end my torment.

“I guess you are wondering what this is all about? I took a phone call at lunchtime, from Marcia. She told me all about your 30006 account and said she wanted to meet. This evening she explained just how deep in the shit you are. You might want to think about it over night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Chapter 3 

She left me without another word and I felt a cold chill run through my whole body. Marcia had been my work colleague for a number of years, and, as Karen’s best friend, she was responsible for bringing us together. More recently, Marcia and I had both been up for promotion. The job of manager of the trading floor had become vacant and, as the star performers, we were the natural candidates. In terms of performance there was little to choose between us and so I decided to get an edge. The 30006 was an offshore account, under my control, for sheltering clients’ realized profits; each trader had something similar. The accounts were supposed to be passive, quietly earning interest until the funds could be repatriated, but I had started to gamble on some commodities futures, nothing too daring but enough to significantly increase the yield and, more importantly, the bottom line of my trading account. It meant that my performance was outstripping Marcia’s by a small, but telling fraction. In the event the strategy backfired badly. The directors said that I was indispensable as a trader and I received a significant pay increase but Marcia got the promotion. It did not matter to me that I might be earning more than her, I wanted the kudos.

As I lay there thinking about it I realized just how stupid I had been. The directors might look no higher than the bottom line but Marcia was bound to be curious about how the trick was worked and now she had access to the records.

I tried to shout, to bring Karen back and tell her I was sorry, but I knew that I had overstepped the mark in trying to get the better of her best friend. In matters pertaining to her friendships her attitude rivaled that of the cosa nostra. I knew, then, that she would not return and I had little choice but to surrender. Having reached my decision I still found it hard to give up but finally, like a tired swimmer yielding to the sea, I let my tongue relax and accepted the nauseating consequences.

The next morning she did not say a word as she removed the ventilator and my throat was so sore that I could not have spoken if I wanted to. Once again, when the nurse arrived, she turned up her nose and gave me an odd look as she cleaned me up. I then laid in frustrated anguish waiting for Karen to return from work so that we could talk it out. 

I had a speech prepared but when she came in to me that evening she was in no mood to listen. She dropped her briefcase on the floor and, without any preamble, she took off her tights and panties.

“It’s been a hot day.”

I thought that she was heading for the shower but I was badly wrong. She hitched up her skirt and climbed onto the bed to straddle my face.

“Karen, enough is enough, you can’t make me do this.”

“I think you’ll find you’re mistaken. I want an orgasm now, just to get warmed up, and then, after dinner, you’ve got a long evening head of you.”

“And if I refuse?”

“It’s probably as well if you don’t…we have lots of empty pouches.”

It was galling to have to go through with it but I still needed her on my side. I had to know what Marcia now intended to do with the information at her disposal. Karen seemed to read my thoughts as she slid forward and nestled her sex over my mouth. Normally, if I went down on her, it was after she had bathed or showered but this was different. Her sex had been cooking all day in the confines of her tights and panties and her scent was rich, almost primordial. I put out my tongue and began to lick, tentatively at first, but then, encouraged by a low moan, more boldly. 

“Do my clit…”

She shifted a fraction to accommodate me and I speared my tongue and began to lick at the smooth nubbin of flesh. It did not take long. Soon, her body was jerking like a badly controlled puppet and then she started to come. It was a brief, violent, climax and at its finish she rubbed herself over my face to gain the friction she wanted to see it to its end. I had still not recovered before she got off of the bed and left me alone. 

Some time later she returned and demanded another, more leisurely, climax. I gave my best effort and then pleaded with her to discuss the situation in a civilized manner but she would not listen to reason.

“You’ve used me. You’ve used my friend. Well now it’s my turn to use you. Get your tongue ready.”

“Karen, enough! The things I’ve done are not that bad in the greater scheme of things. You are not going to use me again and we are going to talk about this.”

It took a great effort to assert myself whilst keeping my anger in check but Karen was in no mood for compromise. She fetched the ventilator. She let me shout myself hoarse before she forced it into my mouth and secured it at the back of my head. Five minutes later she returned from the bath room with a full pouch which she secured to the head of the bed before leaving me to my fate. 

The next evening followed the same pattern. She demanded my immediate attention when she came in from the museum and then twice more later. I wanted to resist but I could not bear another night subjected to the tube. I had been brought so low that I found myself weighing the relative merits of swallowing it warm or cold. 

The only plus point was the slow regaining of mobility. It says something in itself that I kept hidden from Karen the fact that I could now move both my arms and legs. The effort made me weak and I could still not close my fingers but I felt that it was coming. I would soon be in a position to reassert myself. If I needed confirmation of my progress it came the next morning. The nurse told me that it would be her last day and that I would be getting visits from a physiotherapist thereafter.. 

She cleaned me, fed me, and then, for the first time since starting to look after me, she started a conversation. 

“I was discussing your case with some of my colleagues. It’s not for me to say, but I would guess that someone has been taking advantage of your handicap.”

I expected her to look sympathetic at this point but there was the slightest of smiles about her face. 

“Anyway, your story seemed to strike a chord with two of our newest recruits at the agency. You see they were asked to quietly resign from their last jobs because there had been allegations of ‘conduct unbecoming’…” 

I knew, for certain, even without being told that she was referring to Roselyn and Heather. 

“…They are pretty pissed off. In their view some people are just not grateful.”

“So is there a point to this story?”

“The point is that when I confirmed your name they asked me if I would do them a little favour. They wanted you to have something to remember them by.”

“Whatever it is you’re thinking, forget it.”

“I only wish I could. When they first asked me it seemed outrageous but the more consideration I gave it the more irresistible the idea became.”

As she spoke she removed her apron and began to unfasten the buttons at the front of uniform.

“If you so much as touch me I’ll sue the agency and prosecute you personally. You’ll never work in a caring profession again!”

The threat seemed to fall on deaf ears. She finished removing her uniform and stood for a moment in a matching set of sensible white bra and panties. It was only once she was undressed that I appreciated just how big she was. The bra strained to hold up her heavy pale white breasts over her full belly and her broad hips hinted at an equally fulsome behind. 

“You see, when you’re my size, they’re not exactly queuing at the gate and they usually have to be drunk before they’ll go down on me.”

She reached behind her back to unfasten her bra and her breasts lolloped free. They were large, but they did not sag, with pale pink oval nipples which put me mind of cake icing. 

“Is it worth jeopardizing your career just for this?”

“You know…I think it just might be.”

She pulled her pants down her legs and stepped out of them revealing a thick growth of dark hair framed by her ample thighs and the overhang of her belly.

“I’m warning you one last time. Stay away from me, I mean what I say.”

“So how are you going to prove it? And who’s going to believe you.”

Suddenly it became obvious. Roselyn and Heather wanted me to complain. I would come over as some sort of fantasist and they would be vindicated. 

“Please, can’t you see that they’re just using you/”

“You know what, I don’t give a damn.”

She climbed onto the bed which slumped alarmingly with her added weight.

“Get off of me!”

She maneuvered herself clumsily so that she was facing down my body, straddling my face, and suddenly I was confronted with full horror of what was about to happen. Her buttocks were two huge fleshy pillows which met in a deep menacing cleft.

“Fuck off!”

“If there is one thing I object to it’s a foul mouth…”

“No!...Please!”

She brought her hands round to grab her cheeks and slowly pulled them apart. Her fingers sank deeply into the yielding flesh as she revealed the puckered brown-pink opening hidden in the depths and I felt my gorge rising. I filled my lungs ready to swear again but it was too late. She let herself relax and dropped down onto me letting go of her buttocks as she did so. 

I was shrouded in a stifling darkness as her weight crushed my face. My nose was wedged tightly in the greasy valley and as I impulsively opened my mouth to breathe it was filled by a mass of damp hair.

The sensation of being sealed in and totally unable to breathe made me panic. My heart began to race and my body, seemingly beyond my control, jerked spasmodically. I began to feel light-headed and my vision was blurred. Just as I felt myself beginning to pass out she lifted herself slightly and I drew a desperate breath but then she settled once more. My head was embedded so deeply that her buttocks seemed to flow around the sides of my face, exerting an inexorable pressure. 

Her pubis, squeezing against my mouth, was like a sponge and I could do nothing to escape the ever stronger taste of her arousal. At that point I would have licked her, I would have done anything, to escape the narrow prison created by her mounds of flesh but her sheer weight allowed me no movement. In the end her own desire got the better of her, She lifted herself up and back so that her sex hovered just above me. 

“Eat me…”

I had to burrow with my tongue through the sodden mess of her pubic hair to latch onto her sex which was surprisingly demure. Even though she was clearly turned on it was a tight opening and I had to push hard in order to penetrate her. Once inside she was hot and wet and I hoped that this meant that she was close but I sensed that she was new to this and she was going to wring every ounce of pleasure from it.

“Yes, yes…yes.”

The words came from her in a panted whisper as I laboured minute after minute to try and get it over with but still she held back. Trickles of sweat were running down her inner thighs to mix with her nectar which was already coating my face. I felt totally disgusted. Here was I, a man who could pick and chose women, being forced to service someone that I would not favour with a second glance in the street. What was worse was the fact that she knew this and was reveling in it. 

Finally, she was forced to give in to her own growing need and she lowered herself onto my face once more driving my tiring tongue even deeper. It was the trigger she needed. With an animal-like howl of triumph she started to come erupting even more moisture. I tried to retract my tongue but she used her muscles to hold me tightly inside until she was completely finished. 

When she got up from me her face was red with exertion and decorated with a self-satisfied grin.

“You bitch…”

“I’d watch your mouth if I were you. You’re not finished yet, not by a long shot.” 

She picked up the towel she had used on me earlier and wiped herself down. When she was finished she moved back towards the bed.

“I’m warning you. I’ll find you and so help me…!”




Descent Into Oral Servitude



She simply laughed and made ready to climb back on the bed. As she did so, it happened. I brought my arm across and I hit her. It was not a hard blow but it was enough to startle her. She looked at me and saw that I had been able to make a fist and that was enough for her. She moved away and dressed quickly. Less than two minutes later she left the room. 

For the remainder of the day I tested myself and before Karen came home that evening I had managed to sit up and clean my own face. I felt elated to have made such progress and at last I felt that I could get my life back into some sort of order. 

When Karen came into the room she did not seem altogether surprised at my new mobility.

“How does it feel?”

“Not too bad. I still feel very weak.”

“How weak?”

“Well everything moves but the effort is tiring.”

“That’s good.”

“What do you mean ‘good’?”

She did not answer. She opened her attaché case and took out two packets each containing a new pair of stockings. She removed them from the packaging and stretched them out. 

“What are you doing?”

“You’ll see.”

She tied a loop in each stocking and carefully checked the knots.

“Karen, stop messing about, what are you playing at?”

She reached forward and took hold of my wrist and there was a brief but uneven struggle as she pulled my arm towards her.

“Karen!”

She deftly slipped one of the stockings around my wrist and then proceeded to tie off the loose end to the bedpost.

I grabbed at it with my free hand but my fingers were still not dexterous enough to tackle the knot and the silk stocking was surprisingly strong and resisted my enfeebled attempt to pull it free.

“Karen, this isn’t funny!”

She moved round to the other side of the bed and I held my free arm tightly across my chest but I could not prevent her from looping another stocking around my wrist. After that it was easy. She stretched the stocking until she could wind it around the bedpost and then, using her weight, she pulled my arm towards it. 

“That’s enough! Undo me right now!”

It was obvious that she intended to secure my legs as well and I tried to resist but, having curled myself up, I could not prevent her from lassoing my ankles. Once that was done there was more than adequate play in the stretchy material to repeat the same trick with the bedposts at the foot of the bed.

“Karen, talk to me! Tell me what the fuck is going on!” 

Now that the stockings were secure I found that they actually made for a very loose binding and that I still had a fair degree of movement in both my arms and legs. I tried a more conciliatory approach. 

“Karen, just sit down and talk this through.”

She ignored me, returned to her case, and took out, what looked to be, a thin looking dildo.

As she drew closer I could see that it was, in fact, a crude approximation of male genitalia complete with a large ball sac.

“It’s a latex casting from my trip to Turkey. The original is over one thousand years old and carved from stone. The experts there think that it was used during fertility rites.”

“Skip the history lesson what’s this all about?”

To my surprise she laid the latex shaft along the stocking binding my arm and then, with a half twist, she caught up the material and started to turn it end over end. The stocking was slowly being wound around the shaft and the binding quickly grew tighter.

“Stop! That’s not comfortable!”

She carried on twisting and, when she was satisfied, she pushed the end of the shaft into the loop around my wrist to secure it in place. I rarely swear, and then only in anger, but in the next few minutes I called her names which would have shamed a whore. For her part, she kept her silence but she produced three more castings from her case and she repeated the tightening process on my other limbs. But for the fact that I was sitting up it was like being put to the rack. 

“Right, you shit, it’s your turn to listen. It’s obvious that you are prepared to go behind my back and that you are not to be trusted. Add to that your attempt to undermine my oldest friend and I should be bloody well considering divorce.”

In the past few days I had had a lot of time to think. I had seen a new side to Karen that I did not find attractive and I clearly had a problem at work. I had given serious thought to cutting loose altogether and making a fresh start but I was shocked to hear Karen make the suggestion. 

“Marcia tells me that if she exposes your little scam you’re facing three years in prison, given the current climate in the financial services industry, and that brings me to my little problem. ..”

She had to be bluffing. She was right about the custodial sentence but no way was Marcia going to hang me out to dry.

“… The Chief Curators job becomes vacant next year and I want it. The Trustees will make the appointment but they are very much of the old school; the candidate will have to be whiter than white with no hint of scandal attached. In short, I need a dutiful husband at my side in the run up to the appointment and some way beyond.”

I sensed the balance of power shifting in my direction. She could not afford to divorce me and it was certainly in her interests to keep me out of prison. I found myself trying to suppress a smile.

“So you need me after all. What if I told you that I am disgusted by your behaviour of late and that I want a divorce?” 

“It wouldn’t matter. You will be doing exactly as you’re told.”

I found her absolute certainty a little unsettling.

“Let me show you something I bought on my own account in Istanbul.”

She produced, from her case, something which, at first glance, looked like a brass napkin ring.

“I paid five hundred dollars for it in a souk. If I told you how much it is really worth you would be staggered.”

She brought it closer and I could see that it was actually formed of four concentric rings each marked with a series of symbols which reminded me of rune stones. 

“Watch carefully.”

She twisted the rings, in what appeared to be a calculated sequence, and, as I watched, a loop of fine wire began to be extruded. I was trying to puzzle it out as she fetched from her case yet another latex shaft. She slid the rings along the shaft and then looped the wire around the ball sac. She twisted the rings once more but this time it had the effect of tightening the wire loop.

I was no longer amused and when I spoke it was with a voice heavy with sarcasm.

“So just how much should an ornamental cock ring fetch?”

She did not reply. She looked me in eye whilst she gave the rings another twist. 

“Christ!”

There was a loud snap, like the discharge of an air rifle, and the latex shaft fell to the floor leaving Karen holding the ring. When I looked down I saw that the ball sac had been severed completely and the shaft itself had been neatly sliced in two.

“What the hell is it?”

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s a chastity tube. You’ve seen what happens if your try and remove it without turning the rings in the right sequence and it’s also tamper proof. There are small triggers inside as well so it’s not advisable to play around with it unnecessarily.”

“It’s bloody inhuman.”

“Inhuman it may be … but it’s all yours.”

“Karen…stay the fuck away from me!”

She was already turning the rings and the wire loop was extruding once again. 

“Fuck off!”

I made a superhuman effort to struggle free and I felt the sinews knotting in my neck but the silk bindings held fast. As she drew closer I tried bucking my hips but my weakened back refused to co-operate.

“Get off!”

She took hold of my flaccid penis and slipped the ring onto it. 

“Karen…don’t do this!”

She carefully looped the wire around my scrotum and then turned the rings to tighten the closure. 

“Karen, take it off right now!”

Now that she had let go I could feel the sinister weight of it and for a few seconds I hardly dared move.

“It’s okay. You won’t get into any trouble unless you try something silly.”

“You’ve seen what it can fucking do! Take it off.”

“If you behave yourself I’ll let you out from time to time. Now there’s one more thing to check…”

She slipped her jacket off and began to slowly unfasten her blouse. I immediately felt an overwhelming sense of relief; it had obviously been a joke and she was now ready to find out just how much I had really recovered. I watched in eager anticipation and tried not to think about how long it had been since I had last had an orgasm. Her blouse fell to the floor followed quickly by her bra and I could see that her nipples were already aroused. I could almost feel the distended teats in my mouth but then my groin was gripped by a sudden, violent, cramping pain. My cock, following its Pavlovian instincts, had tried to come to erection but it was cruelly pinched back by the restrictive diameter of the tube.

“Get it off! It’s bloody painful!”

“Excellent.”

“Karen!”

I shouted forlornly as she scooped up her clothes and left the room.

Chapter 4

Karen returned after some hours and untied my arm leaving me to finish releasing myself. There was no way I was going to beg her and, once free, I stayed in the spare room and started to examine the tube in detail. The temptation to try turning the rings was almost overwhelming but the severed facsimile, still lying on the floor, acted as a deterrent. I slept with it on that night but it was a troubled sleep fueled by a growing anger towards Karen. The next morning I was able to get myself up and, as soon as she had left for work, I made my way down to the garage. I re-examined the ring with the aid of a powerful torch but the dull metal offered up no clues. 

I sat down and weighed up my options. I reckoned that someway or another, armed with the right tools, I could remove it but it would be delicate work and, for the present, I could still not trust my limbs. I was already shaking from the exertion of coming down stairs and I guessed that it would be another day or two before I was fully fit. The great temptation was to cut the wire enclosure but it was obviously coiled inside the tube, as proved by the bisected shaft, and whilst my balls might be saved I ran the risk of severely lacerating myself. I knew that, in extremis, I could seek some professional help but that was going to come at the cost of major embarrassment. In the end I came to the inevitable conclusion that I would have to try and talk Karen round. I knew that she could not stay angry forever and I hoped that, now she had had her fun, she would once again become the woman that I had fallen in love with. 

That evening, when she came in, I had a meal prepared and a bottle of chilled Sancerre standing ready. No mention was made of the ring. Over dinner I asked about her day at work and she quizzed me and seemed genuinely pleased at the extent of my recovery. Afterwards, we sat down on the sofa together and I suggested that we watch a DVD. 

Karen chose the film “Bound”, which was an old favourite, but I had forgotten just how steamy the girl/girl scenes were. I was painfully reminded as my cock started to stir only to be strangled in its efforts. 

“Karen, this thing is really hurting. Will you take it off?...We can finish watching the film in the bedroom.”

I hoped that the hint that I was almost back to my old self might be enough but having pondered for a moment she replied without taking her eyes from the screen.

“You have to do something for me first.”

“Like what?”

“I want you to go down on me.” 

“Come up to the bedroom.”

“No. Here. Now.”

“And then you’ll end this nonsense?”

“No promises.”

I was tempted to get into an argument but things had gone well so far and it would have been stupid to spoil it all.

“Scoot up onto the sofa.”

“No, I want you down here on your knees.”

I bit my tongue and dropped to the floor. She was wearing a short skirt and she opened her legs to reveal a pair of expensive looking panties that I could not remember having seen before. 

“Take them off for me”

She lifted herself slightly and I eased them down her legs. It was immediately clear that the film had been affecting her as much as me. The panties were damp and strongly scented and I discarded them almost with distaste. 

She slumped further down on the sofa, shifting herself forward as she did so, and made herself more accessible. On another occasion I might have teased her a little, kissing gently up along her inner thigh, but there was no love in this. I was being used, she knew it, I knew it, but what was the choice? Her glistening sex, lewdly displayed, was mocking me and, on some primal level, I wanted to do her harm but sanity prevailed and I bent to my task. 

“Gently, there’s no rush.”

In an effort to assert myself in some way I clamped my mouth to her sex and pushed my tongue deep inside her but she used her skilled muscles to give me admonitory squeeze. I remained caught for a second or two and then she relaxed so that I could resume at a more leisurely pace. For the next few minutes I licked her slowly concentrating mainly on her labia but teasing upwards towards her clitoris every now again. On the face of it she was ignoring my ministrations and her attention was fixed on the film but I was determined to make her loose her self control. The battle of wills continued for another quarter of an hour. My tongue was tiring but I kept up the same easy rhythm in the knowledge that there were some indications she could not control. In my prison between her thighs it was growing appreciably warmer and she was oozing more and more moisture.

The film had come to an end but she reached across and used the remote control to start rewinding it. I was dimly aware that she had restarted it somewhere near the beginning when the two women meet in the apartment.

“Do my clit…”

She was not asking, she was demanding, but I felt a tiny measure of triumph. I tried to work her clit free of its fleshy cloak with the tip of my tongue but she grew impatient and used her fingers to distend herself further. I began to lick the engorged bud and, almost immediately, she began to moan. It started as a barely perceptible hum but soon built to a full throated growl and, for the first time in some while, I finally felt in control. Her body started to tremble as her climax built and then, suddenly, my face was spattered with moisture as the first major contraction wrenched at her. After that her body jerked at irregular intervals as she tried to anticipate each new wave of pleasure and surf with it.

At the finish I was no longer licking with any purpose. I simply presented my tongue and she worked herself against me as her orgasm finally abated. By then my face was hot with a mixture of sweat and her creamy sap. I felt pleased with myself and, as I dared to hope, I felt my cock beginning to stir. I started to rise up from my aching knees but she pressed down on the top of my head.

“Stay there. I’m not finished yet. I want another.”

“Have a heart, it’s my turn now.”

“You still haven’t changed have you! It’s still you, you, you.”

This tirade took me unawares and before I could frame any sort of reply she flitted off of the sofa. 

“Karen!”

I made a belated grab for her but she was already gone. I scrambled to my feet in ungainly fashion and took after her but I was only half way up the stairs when I heard the bedroom door slam and then the key turning in the lock. I spent the next five minutes trying to talk to her through the door but, for all the good it did me, the room might as well have been empty. In the end I was swearing and I was sorely tempted to put my shoulder to the door but I forced myself to be calm. I went back downstairs and started to look for the spare key but it was nowhere to be found.

The next morning Karen left for work early, without saying a word, and I was left to my own devices. I found that my hands were steady and so I collected some tools together and began to think about forcing the tube. It seemed to me that the best strategy would be to place a ring of some description between the tube and my cock so that, if the wire snapped I would afford myself some protection but the plan had two flaws. Karen had mentioned triggers inside the tube and sliding something hard inside might be enough to spring the mechanism. The other problem was the tension in the wire. I had seen how easily it had sliced through the latex phallus and so I needed something both thin and strong to nullify it.

I spent hours thinking it through and even began entertaining some far fetched notions including the possibility that the triggers might be magnetic and that certain metals, including steel, would, therefore, be out of the question. In the end I could not pluck up the courage and I convinced myself that if I played it right Karen could still be made to see sense.

I decided that the best bet would be to talk to her somewhere away from the house and so I booked a table at Tosca, her favourite Italian restaurant. When she arrived she was clearly pleased with my initiative but she still seemed a little edgy. Throughout the meal we made small talk but there was definitely an atmosphere. I noticed that she drank more red wine than she would normally be comfortable with but I figured that an excess of alcohol might work to my advantage. I decided to grasp the nettle. 

“Karen, it seems to me that we can do one of two things. Either we forget everything that has happened and try to patch things up or we give one another some space for a while.”

“You don’t understand do you? I’ve told you how things are going to be. You are going to play the dutiful husband. Once I am well established in my new post you can do what you like. In the meanwhile you will continue to service my needs … unless you would like me to explore the alternatives.”

This was too much for me.

“If that’s how you feel about it its probably better if I simply move out now. Tell me how to remove this “thing’ and I’ll pack my bags.”

She stared at me for a moment and then seemed to reach a decision. 

“Okay, you give me the orgasm that you owe me and I’ll tell you how.”

It was not what I was expecting to hear and I was caught off guard. 

“I owe you an orgasm?”

“It’s not open to debate. Bring me to an orgasm right now and I’ll release you, otherwise you can make your own arrangements. “

“What the hell do you mean ‘right now’?”

“Exactly as I say. Get under the table and do it or leave now and take your chances.”

It was insanity but, nevertheless, I found myself scanning the room checking out the clientele. Fortunately, it was still early and only three other tables were occupied. I knew, right then, that our marriage was finished and I wanted nothing more than to get up and leave her alone at the table but that would mean that I would have to suffer the embarrassment of finding someone else to remove the tube and I was determined to deny her that particular satisfaction. 

The table was large enough to accommodate four people and was covered by a heavy damask cloth that fell to floor level. She had, no doubt, taken all this into consideration and her premeditation added fuel to my anger. I silently counted to three and then allowed my napkin to drop to the floor. As I bent to retrieve it I quickly checked that no one had noticed and then I ducked beneath the table. I had not looked at Karen but I somehow knew that she was smiling.

As I edged forward she opened her legs and I was surprised to see that she was not wearing panties. I did not dwell on the inference and decided to get it over and done with as soon as possible. I nudged my way between her thighs and applied my mouth to her sex, a maneuver that was not made any easier by the fact that she remained sitting upright in her chair. After a minute or two it became obvious that she was in no particular hurry and, as I continued to labour, I could hear her turning the pages of the menu. I shifted myself up a little so that I could suck her clitoris but she was becoming very adept at disguising her reactions and, ten minutes later, there was still no obvious sign that I was achieving my aim. I was at the point of giving up and walking out on her with as much dignity as I could muster when a familiar voice made me freeze. 




Descent Into Oral Servitude



“Karen! Fancy seeing you here.”

“Hi, Marcia.”

I suppose I should not have been so surprised. I knew that Karen had expounded the virtues of Tosca’s to Marcia and I knew that Marcia had since used it for entertaining clients.

“So where’s the man in your life?”

“He won’t be long. He’s just cleaning up”

So saying she squeezed my head between her thighs giving a clear signal that she wanted me to carry on. I felt totally embarrassed as I reapplied my tongue but for reasons I could not explain I found the situation a turn on and, within seconds, I began to suffer the pain of a thwarted erection. My hands dropped to my groin but Karen, notwithstanding her conversation with Marcia, realized what was going on and gave me another squeeze to demand my full attention. 

“How’s his recovery?”

“Well he’s got the physical side pretty much licked …”

“Good. I’ve a few words to say to him when he comes back to the office.”

“Would you like to sit down and join me for a glass of wine?”

I felt my heart skip a beat but Karen was clearly excited by her own devilment. Her legs opened a little wider and I felt her sex growing warmer under my tongue.

“Another time, I’m meeting clients and I’d better go through to the bar.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

I heard the sound of an air kiss and then Marcia’s shoes disappeared from my restricted view. I began to lick at Karen’s excited sex with broad sweeps of my tongue, being more determined than ever to get it over and done with, but seconds later the waiter arrived at the table. She did not miss a beat. She flirted outrageously and ordered for both of us whilst I slaved between her legs. Shortly afterwards she began to fidget and I assumed that she was close but at that moment the waiter returned with our cold hors d’oeuvre. As he walked away from the table Karen passed a serviette down to me and I gratefully wiped my face before taking my cue to reemerge. 

The meal passed with stilted civility but once coffee was served I could hold back no longer.

“So what’s the secret? How do I remove it?”

She smiled and whispered as she leant in towards me.

“You’ve still got to finish what you started…”

“For Gods sake!”

I had reached breaking point. I got up from the table and, almost before I realized it, I found myself outside of the restaurant. My innate notions of civility almost made me go back in and apologize but I was being driven by darker forces. I hailed a taxi and went back to the house. I had the driver wait for the ten minutes it took me to pack some essentials and then I had him drive me a budget hotel. Only when I was in my room did my temper start to cool but I was glad that I had done it. Karen would now see how serious things had become and, in light of that, she could reappraise the situation.

The following morning I did not call her. I breakfasted early and made my way to the office. I needed to anchor myself in some form of normality and, more importantly, to find out if I still had a job. I arrived early and the trading desks were all empty but the light was on in what was now Marcia’s office.I drew myself up and walked in. Marcia was immersed in the overnight reports from the Far East and it took her a moment or two to realize that I was there. 

“This is a surprise. We weren’t expecting you back so soon.”

“Were you expecting me back at all? Look, Marcia, I need to know how things stand.”

“How things stand? Well, if you weren’t Karen’s husband I would have gone to the board with everything I know.”

“So you’re saying we can work together?”

“I’m saying that you can continue to work for me and from here on in we do things my way.”

I wanted to snap back at her. Only a few days previously we had both been traders and, as such, comparative equals but now she seemed to be reveling in her new status. I held her cold stare for a second or two and then cast my eyes down. I knew that, in the longer term, I could not carry on working for her but I needed a period of stability to sort out my marriage and to sound out other employment prospects. I turned on my heel, walked to my desk, and switched on the dealing screens.

It felt good to immerse myself in the markets once more and the day passed relatively quickly. I half expected Karen to call but was not totally surprised when she did not. I decided that I would stay late and then use the internet to try and find someone who could help to remove the tube. I found that it was never far from my thoughts. At first, the weight of it had caused my groin to ache but I quickly became acclimatized to it and I could forget it for minutes at a time. It was worst when I stood up after having sat down for a while. The second problem was the workplace itself. I had not had relief for several days and the company employed its fair share of good looking females. I suppose I used to look at them all the time anyway but now every casual glance seemed to be rewarded with a cramping reminder. At lunchtime I even resorted to trying to masturbate in the toilets but I could only achieve a semi erection before the pain became too much to bear.

By six o’clock most people had left but Marcia was still in her office. When my phone rang I knew it was her even before I saw her name in the display.

“Would you come in for a moment please.”

I was tempted to tell her that I had an urgent engagement and that I had to leave but I saw sense and did as she asked. The sooner she went home the sooner I could try to find the solution to my problem on the net. She kept me waiting in front of her desk for a second or two before deigning to turn her attention to me. 

“I’m sorry to have to tell you that I have had a report of harassment.”

“What the hell are you talking about!? I haven’t even been in work.”

“Did I say it concerned you?”

I had been caught wrong footed and felt foolish until she continued.

“As it happens the complaint is about you.”

“From whom?”

“Claudia. She wants to be transferred off of your section.”

A tiny alarm bell started ringing at the back of my mind. Claudia was with us as a researcher on a one year contract whilst she earned enough money to get back into university. She was a stunning looking brunette and all the single guys at the office had tried their luck. 

“What, exactly, is she accusing me of?”

“Her complaint concerns the Higgins party.”

“That was bloody months ago. Why is she only bringing it up now?”

“Because, until now, this job was being done by one of your drinking buddies. Now that I have the reins she felt able to confide in me.”

“And what has she said?”

“It concerns the rumours that circulated after the party.”

I found it hard to repress a smile. Higgins was a client and most of the staff had been invited to the annual party. A story had been doing the rounds that Claudia had an evening job to boost her earnings but no one had been able to elicit the details. Most of the guys, including me, had put some cash into a pool and agreed that whoever got the information scooped the pot. With almost all the male staff trying to hit on her it had been difficult to engineer a moment but the opportunity dropped into my lap. I was taking some air on the hotel patio when Claudia came out. In truth, nothing happened. We chatted for about ten minutes, which was more than we ever managed in the frenzy of the workplace, and I found her charming and articulate. She would not be drawn on the details of a second job and we returned to the party together. The next day, at the office, it became clear that no one had won the prize but the story going round was that Claudia had given me a blow job. I do not know how or where it started and whilst I did not affirm it nor did I positively deny it. My stock amongst the younger brokers rose immeasurably and my ego soared for days afterwards.

“I can’t be held responsible for rumours.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You were her senior. You were aware of the rumours. You took no positive action. Under the recent “Sexual Harassment in the Workplace” legislation she has a good case.”

“That’s bullshit. Just cut to the chase and tell me what is going on here.”

“Bullshit or not, if she insists on making a formal complaint you’ll be tainted whichever way you look at it. However, she is not an unreasonable young woman. She’ll drop it in return for a move off of your section and one evening of your time.”

Now I was intrigued.

“One evening of my time?”

“This evening to be precise. She’s waiting downstairs in her car.”

I felt several things at once. The first was a pleasant frisson that she obviously found me attractive. The second was a sense of guilt both about the way I had treated her and the prospect of infidelity (this convinced me that, even now, I held out the remote possibility of a reconciliation with Karen). The final feeling was one of ridicule. If she came on to me how the hell was I going to explain away the tube?

I tried to rationalize these thoughts as I took the lift downstairs. The prospect of getting it on with Claudia made it easy to damn Karen and, if I acted the gentlemen and refused to take things too far on the first date she would probably find it endearing. 

I found her sitting in an old, but serviceable, Ford in the basement garage. I smiled as I walked towards her but she did not return it. 

“Get in.”

She drove for ten minutes and an awkward silence prevailed. She was headed south of the river into a district that I was not familiar with. She pulled into the car park of a large pub which, under any other circumstances, I would have been at pains to avoid. 

“Follow me.” 

She led me to a back entrance where there was a sign for a “Function Room” and ushered me inside. 

“Wait in there. You are going to be my assistant.”

With those few enigmatic words she wandered off into the bowels of the building leaving me alone in what was obviously a changing room. There was a poster on the wall advertising an “eat and drink as much as you like Medieval Banquet” and the hanging racks were filled with costumes for nobles and commoners. It seemed that I had misjudged her motives altogether. This was obviously where she worked in the evenings and it looked as though she wanted me to help out. I guessed that she wanted me to wait tables and that, in so doing, I would learn a little humility. Whilst I was disappointed it was, after all, a small price to pay.

In the event it was forty minutes before she came back and when she did my jaw dropped. She was dressed in a tight leather basque that cinched her waist and pushed her breasts upwards to form an inviting plateau. Her legs were sheathed in sheer black nylon stockings and she wore spiked heeled ankle boots which made her taller than me. She was a fetishist’s wet dream and I gave an involuntary groan as my manhood tried, and failed, to rise in admiration. 

She has also reapplied her makeup and it was now theatrically heavy. Her eyes were shadowed in dark blue and delineated with black liner. She had also used a blusher to emphasis her high cheek bones and the effect was to make her look both older and sterner. The final touch was a, high gloss, russet coloured lipstick which gave her a mouth that begged to be kissed. 

“Claudia, are you going to tell me what all this is about?”

“It’s quite simple. I want you to feel as humiliated as I did. When we get out there do exactly as I tell you.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“You can leave now if you wish – I can have another willing volunteer here in minutes – but if you do I’ll press my harassment claim.”

There did not seem to be much choice and, besides, how bad could it be? She could see that I had reached a decision and she threw me a bag. 

“Get changed. I’ll be back to collect you shortly.”

The bag contained a pair of crudely tailored hessian trousers which were cut to the knee and tied at the waist with a simple drawstring. The only other item in the bag was a black leather cowl which was clearly designed to go over the head and to cover the top half of the face. I felt a sense of foreboding but, when all was said and done, this was, after all, a local pub and not some sinister underground club. After a moments hesitation I decided to go through with it. I undressed and put on the trousers, which were weightier than they appeared, and then donned the cowl. 

When I looked in the mirror I cut a menacing figure. The cowl and trousers made me look like an impoverished version of Batman but at least I was guaranteed anonymity. Claudia came back shortly afterwards and looked me over.

“You’ll do. Follow me.”

She lead the way down the corridor and my eyes were drawn to her taut buttocks as she walked in her high heels with practiced ease. I immediately felt a twinge in my groin and tried to turn my thoughts elsewhere. Somewhere up ahead I could hear the swelling noise of voices and easy laughter. Claudia paused at the door at the corridors end and composed herself.

“Ready? Just do exactly what I tell you...”

She opened the door and, immediately, some music was cued in. It was a loud rock track with a slow thumping base line that went straight for the solar plexus. As she stepped through she was picked out by a spotlight and a yell went up from a crowd that was larger than I had imagined. It took my eyes a second or two to adjust to the light as I followed her in but I could see that we were in the banqueting hall. There were three long tables with benches either side and I guessed that there were about fifty people present. It took another moment to realize that it was a totally female audience and, judging by the number of empty wine bottles on the tables, they had been going strong for some time. 

Claudia had made her entrance onto a raised dais at one end of the room, which acted as a stage, and she proceeded to prowl around it with an arrogant bearing as the crowd continued to bay their welcome. We were now about twenty feet apart and she turned to look back at me,

“Come here and kneel!” 

Suddenly, the whole thing seemed too silly for words. That, when added to my natural stage fright, froze me to the spot. Marcia waited for a second and then turned to the table behind her. The audience saw it before I did and they yelled in delight. She turned back to face me holding an evil looking bullwhip. I naturally assumed that it was a simple stage prop but with a practiced jerk of her arm she cracked the lash down onto the floor just inches from my feet. 

“Come here!”

I still hesitated, my instincts crying out to me to turn on my heels, but two things stopped me. Foremost, I could not take the chance that Claudia would press her claim, particularly with Marcia in league with her, but, secondly, the audience was growing restive. Even as I took a quick look back towards the door we had entered through the two women closest to it moved in such a manner as to suggest that they would bar the way 

I took the line of least resistance and moved slowly towards her. I stopped a couple of feet away and then knelt down. She took a step forwards and then pointed at the toe of her boot.

“Kiss it!”

In an effort to get it over with as soon as possible, I went along with the nonsense and bent over to do as she asked. The crowd yelled as I pecked a kiss on the shiny leather and I felt a perverse sense of pride in their approval. 

“Stay there.”

She turned to the table once more and picked up a length of black silk which she wound around my head effectively blinding me. She tied it off tightly and, in an odd way, I found it comforting. With the silk covering my eyes and the cowl covering my ears I felt distanced from the howling mob. 

“Get up!”

I got back to my feet and wondered what was going on as the crowd suddenly grew quiet. I was dimly aware that Claudia was off to my left and than I heard the stage curtains being drawn. The crowd gave an exultant shout and I desperately wanted to know what was happening but I resisted the temptation to remove the blindfold.

Claudia came and took hold of my hands and led me across the stage and when she released them my wrists were resting on a bar. I was still considering the implications when I felt her pressing on the back of my head

“Bend over.”

My natural instincts made me resist but she put her mouth close to my ear and whispered.

“Do as you’re told or you’re finished.”

She pressed more insistently and it was only as my neck came to rest on the bar that I realized what was happening … but it was too late. I felt a new pressure on the back of head as the upper section of the yoke was closed. Confirming my worst fears Claudia removed my blindfold and I found myself secured in a wooden pillory. It clearly formed part of the entertainment when the room was used for medieval banquets but I quickly established that it was more than a novelty item. I struggled to get free but Claudia had already secured the hasp with a padlock and I found that the device was both heavy and very solid. 

There was a crudely carved wooden “throne” set up in front of the pillory and Claudia went and reclined on it as she milked the ongoing applause. At that moment I could have killed her. I knew that, traditionally, people had been secured in pillories in public places and than pelted with refuse by the passers-by and this was the indignity that I now expected to be put to; the only problem with this was that the pillory was side on to the audience. 

Finally, Claudia got back to her feet. She walked slowly to the table and paused to deliberate before picking up a metre length of bamboo. The crowd gave another roar as she bent it into a circle before whooping it experimentally through the air. There was no further doubt about her intentions and my temper got the better of me.

“Undo this thing right now… or so help me!”

The crowd laughed, clearly thinking that this was all part of the act, and Claudia whispered into my ear as she moved behind me.

“If I were you, I’d scream convincingly.”

I could no longer see her but I could hear as she made another practice swipe. She was going to go through with it and, notwithstanding my bluster, there was nothing I could do about it. The crowd hushed and anticipation hung in the air. Seconds passed and everyone, including me, seemed to be holding their breath. Then it came, a deep whooping sound, and then a solid impact as the cane smashed across my backside. I yelped, more in surprise than anything else, and it took me a moment to realize that there was not a lot of pain. A second strike quickly followed the first and this time I barely reacted as I tried to figure it out. On the third stroke I got it. The Hessian trousers were sufficiently padded to take most of the sting out of the strokes.

A fourth stroke fell and I was just beginning to believe that it was not going to be such an ordeal when she took me completely by surprise.

“Argghhh..!

As I yelled the audience shouted louder in delight. She had caught me with a vicious blow low down on the back of the thighs and it felt as though a hot wire had been set against my exposed flesh. Two more strokes came quickly against the padding in the trousers but I had still not learnt my lesson. I forgot to scream and the penalty was another cutting stroke against the back of my legs which had me crying out for real. 

After that I played along and screamed each time she struck my backside. The crowd loved it and started to count out the strokes. As they reached the thirties it was beginning to hurt even with the padding and I prayed for it to be over. When, at last, she did call a halt her delighted crowd was almost in a frenzy. Claudia came back round to the side of the pillory and I waited for her to release me but she did not reach for the padlock. Instead, she depressed a pedal which, up to then, I had not noticed. As she did so the yoke in which I was imprisoned began to sink slowly towards the floor. It was clearly designed to accommodate people of different heights when standing but she did not release the pedal until the yoke was just eighteen inches from the floor. I had no choice but to get down onto my knees into a painful stoop.