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The neck collar has indeed precluded me from looking downward. Yet I can feel the incredible shaft swing about as I stand. The engorged head is heavy. It is as if someone has attached weights to my penis! In my lower peripheral vision I can see the purple tip jutting forth.
So I nod and Naomi smiles.
“It’s cute. Can you waggle it for me...like a good boy?”
Normally I would find such a request from an unknown nurse to be offensive. I would protest, perhaps be verbally abusive...but instead I waggle...like a good boy. She smiles.
“We see so many here...and all so proud.”
It’s the drug! I comply with her most obnoxious request so readily.
Naomi draws my wrists behind my back and attaches them together. Another velcro strap? I have no way of knowing but did not hear buckles and cannot feel metal.
Then she continues using my scrotum as a leash to walk me to the far side of the room.
“We handle many males here Mr. Dalton. Most are younger and stronger than you. And they all comply with our wishes. Some sooner and easier than others...but they all become obedient. So make it easy on yourself. I’m going to suspend you. It will look severe and scary but we’ve found it is best. We’ll need complete control. That’s what it’s all about here. Control. We demand it, you will learn to most humbly offer it.”
As she speaks she leads me to an odd contraption. It is an assemblage of metal pipes...on wheels. On a sturdy rectangular base a vertical pipe rises to a height of some six feet. At the top a horizontal pipe stretches to the right and left forming a large ‘T’. Various hooks have been welded to the metal. Straps dangle from hooks to the extreme right and left of the ends of the horizontal pipe.
“Okay, Mr. Dalton. Step into the square, turn and face me like a good boy. This will be quick and you’ll soon be most comfortable.”
Again, something is telling me to obey. I am being led about naked and restrained by this authoritative black nurse and unwittingly doing my best to please her!
My feet step into the square of piping mounted on wheels. I turn. The dangling straps are deftly hooked to the broad swaths of cloth encircling my thighs. The back of my neck collar is hooked to the vertical pipe. She adjusts, smiles then leans and lifts my right foot, bending my leg back to clip the ankle cuff to the vertical pipe behind me. My left foot quickly follows. I am suspended in air two or three feet off the ground in a kneeling position. Most of my weight is supported by the thigh straps...some on my ankles...a little on my neck collar. With my hips forced forward, my erection feels as if it will touch the far wall. Nurse Naomi steps back with a look of smugness. She is most accomplished in suspending the naked male. The whole procedure took seconds and she required no assistance other than to have me stand in the proper place.
“Comfortable?” she inquires with an irritatingly smooth voice. She gently pats my free-swinging testicles.
I want to verbally lash out, yet I nod as best I can. It’s odd that I curse the drug yet am so compliant. And I am comfortable. The restraints are well designed. She spends a moment adjusting. The straps tighten and my thighs separate even further. I am so exposed and my penis so much seems to enjoy showing itself.
“When you’re flaccid and need to urinate. Let me know.”
Nurse Naomi presses a lever with her foot. This releases the wheels. She moves behind me and pushes. My male pride, whatever is left, sinks. Naked and thoroughly restrained I am going to be pushed about by a woman...with my erection sticking out like a sword. Where is she taking me?
Out into a hallway Naomi pushes to the sound of squeaking wheels below. I feel like a child in a shopping cart. Naomi offers soft words of encouragement concerning my forthcoming ‘ordeal’. I am not sure to what it is she is referring but the drug, this Thorazine, seems to deny me any sense of curiosity or level of care. Mentally I do not wish to resist, yet deep within there is a male pride that suggests I protest...yell...curse. Yet, I do nothing.
We pass other nurses...both young with white uniforms notably contrasting their dark complexions. They stifle giggles in seeing my nakedness and incredibly stiff erection. I feel some degree of embarrassment though it is much tempered by the drug. Naomi seems to command their respect. She is obviously of rank at this facility.
I am wheeled down a ramp into a windowless basement. It is dark. Dreary. Ominous. I should be concerned. It is a dungeon yet there are no cell bars or torture apparatus, just large boxes. In reading certain labeling I see the word ‘emergency’ stenciled on several cartons.
“This part of the basement is for shelter during severe storms and hurricanes,” explains Nurse Naomi, anticipating my curiosity, however much diminished.
We approach a large set of double doors. Nurse Naomi gracefully turns and swings about my ‘shopping cart’. She pulls me backwards through the hinged doors using her backside to push them open. Shockingly bright lights momentarily illuminate the dark chamber we have passed through then the doors swing closed as I am pulled into the well illuminated room.
Dr. Emily Reinhold awaits my naked well-restrained form. She is masked, enwrapped in white surgical garb and wearing latex gloves. When I spy a tray of sharp instruments, I shudder. The level of my concern is such that it overrides the effect of this Thorazine drug. Perhaps I should suggest another injection.
“I’m afraid Lady Constance does not permit anesthesia for minor procedures, Mr. Dalton. She believes that the male’s introduction to our facility should be memorable and therefore most cathartic.”
Chapter Nine
Luana
My first male! I receive word and rush to the Island’s medical building. It’s my turn to become a handler of submissive Caucasian males. I have assisted my mother for years in the vegetable fields and fruit orchards, learning the male anatomy and all the techniques to ensure obedience. Now I will be in charge and Lady Constance has given me responsibility for the Island’s newest product...salt...from the sea. We will harvest it for export and sale. Though there is little need for more cash in Lady Constance’s coffers, it is a deliciously Dominant vision to have our naked charges working under the hot sun to produce pennies worth of the world’s most abundant commodity.
Sumani, the stable mistress, has loaned me a pony boy and cart and I find my whip hand flicking away despite the good pace of my human steed. I am excited and my enthusiasm is exhibited by way of crisp strokes to nipples and penis. He’s well trained and immediately converts his anguish to renewed vigor in pulling. The formidable medical building comes into view. I reach for the strands of leather tethering the scrotum and pull. My pony knows to stop near the entrance. I tie the reins to the cartwheel and dash into the building. A nurse points to the basement operating room. Dr. Reinhold is preparing this ‘Ted Dalton’ and I want to watch.
As my bare feet scamper down the ramp I hear an exquisite cry. I push open the double doors to see that Dr. Reinhold has just thrust a long needle through the right nipple of my charge. He hangs so helplessly in suspension and despite the pain can barely move.
Naomi stands nearby to assist and she signals me to watch from afar. I suppose there is concern of infection and a desire to keep the area antiseptically clean.
