With a trip to a nearby cabinet, the firm hands of Veronica retrieve what appears to be a bar of soap. She returns to Mr. M---- and grasps the top of the arm glove to hold him steady.
“Stay still,” is her softly spoken admonishment, as she bends slightly at the knee and applies the bar to Mr. M----’s right nipple.
“A simple pumice stone,” explains Dr. L------. “Clean, easy to use, and very effective when briskly applied to the appropriate areas.”
Brisk is an appropriate description. Veronica works the coarse stone over Mr. M----’s right nipple, pauses and checks her handiwork, then continues.
“She’ll abrade the flesh as she see fit. It serves to keep Mr. M---- focussed. A little irritating gel also helps.”
The left nipple receives the same treatment. Mr. M---- grimaces but oddly, his erection seems to stiffen. Veronica smiles.
“Goodness, Mr M----, you really enjoy showing off for me, don’t you? Yes, well Veronica will take care of you.”
The tall woman reaches into her pocket and retrieves a small jar. She opens it quickly and dips in her right index finger. Dr. L------ explains.
“A special unguent I developed right here at the clinic. It’s a glycerin base with a very irritating mixture of alcohol and a form of acidic vinegar. The alcohol provides an incredible initial sting when applied to sensitive skin. The vinegar serves to maintain a very uncomfortable level of slow anguish.”
No sooner does the Doctor finish her description, then Veronica’s finger touches the right nipple and Mr. M---- yelps. She quickly moves her coated finger to the left then steps away. Mr. M---- crawls toward her whimpering. It is indeed the sound of a puppy, and when he lowers his head and an enormous tongue thrusts out, the “rehabilitated” male gently licks Veronica’s left calf and in so doing more resembles a canine than a human.
“She must be a marvelous trainer, the drug dealer’s wife. Under stress, he reverts to a mode in which he is most comfortable, despite our best efforts.”
Veronica lets him lick and affectionately pats the top of his head. His reaction to the pain inflicted by the Specialist is most interesting. Mr. M----’s long tongue glides up and down Veronica’s calf making it shine in the well-lit room. He then shuffles forward and attempts to rub his erection against the smooth, warm flesh that he has so assiduously lubricated with his saliva. Veronica steps back.
“I think I know what our puppy wants. But first some more water.”
Veronica provides more hydration with two large glasses, then again retrieves the pumice stone. Mr. M---- looks at it with fear.
“Come now, puppy. You know the position.”
The tears continue to roll as Mr. M---- obediently remains on his knees and bends backwards. The effect is to push his huge, purple erection straight upwards as his head and shoulders slowly lower until his back rests on his folded legs. His control ring pops into view. I marvel at how discreetly it is positioned.
Veronica’s hands go to work. She grasps the large, penis shaft with her left, pulls it toward Mr. M----’s knees, then begins a slow, firm pumicing of the sensitive, purple, penis tip.
Mr. M---- yelps but remains motionless, allowing Veronica to expertly complete her handiwork.
Within minutes, she has removed the thinnest layer of flesh and the purple head shines. Judging from the look of pain, just the exposure to air causes the overly sensitive erection to sting, and the abundant tears evidence the results of Veronica’s endeavors.
“Now, let’s see our doggie frottage. You seem to like my leg. Well, now you may use it for your pleasure.”
Veronica’s finger dips into the jar of unguent and cruelly covers her left calf. She then moves to a nearby chair, sits, and hikes up her uniform. Her legs are bare and when she snaps her fingers, Mr. M---- cannot stop himself from quickly righting himself and crawling the few steps to her chair.
“You can’t help yourself, can you? My little doggie knows his weewee will be hurt, but there’s pleasure to be had. And if he’s good, I may let him ejaculate. Yes, I’ll let you rub my leg until your little organ releases all that pent up sperm. Then I’ll insert a little tablet and watch you dance. Yes, all that water needs to go somewhere, and Veronica will help you go. Or, you can just kneel and there’ll be no pain and no pleasure.”
As Veronica speaks, Mr. M---- crawls forwards. The enticing soft flesh cannot be resisted. Despite the overly sensitive, abraded penis, he presses against the lubricated calf. He cries out yet thrusts. He has a look of anguish, which is indescribable, yet he gyrates his hips and pushes his erection against Veronica’s leg. He is indeed frottaging with fervor, and Veronica again pats his head and laughs.
“Such a good doggie.”
A knowing Veronica holds her leg firmly in place in order to maximize the painful yet pleasurable friction, which Mr. M---- so desperately seeks. His scrotum flops about comically with the thrusts of lust, and the frustration of having his arms and hands well secured is apparent.
On occasion, Veronica moves her calf and Mr. M---- thrusts forward into thin air. This causes a moment of laughter from Veronica and clumsy efforts by Mr. M---- to reposition himself to continue his ardent march toward orgasm.
The Specialist’s extensive knowledge of the male anatomy is once again displayed as Veronica senses a pending climax. She reaches down with both hands and pinches each excoriated nipple with incredible pressure. Mr. M---- erupts, shooting load after load of thick, white sperm. Some reaches Veronica’s lap. Most splashes against her leg and slowly dribbles to her ankle.
“And now you must pay for your pleasure.”
An interesting comment considering the level of anguish Mr. M---- must have felt in achieving ejaculation. But the women of clinic certainly know their function and the combination of torment and gratification on the face of Mr. M---- was most curious. Veronica reaches behind her. She picks up a smooth, thin cylinder from the counter. Mr. M---- cowers but remains motionless, still pushing his amazingly reddened penis against Veronica’s leg. Although he is satiated, her warm flesh obviously provides some degree of comfort, and the shaft softens only a little.
“Hold still, you know it hurts more if you move.”
Veronica grasps the tumescent shaft with her left hand. The cylinder in her right is slowly inserted in Mr. M----’s urethra. It is obviously a procedure she has executed many times, as she looks directly into Mr. M----’s face and smiles as she slowly slides the cylinder into his penis.
I am surprised that he so obsequiously accepts the catheter. Its diameter approximates that of a pencil, yet Veronica slowly slides it in without hesitation on her part or protest on his.
When she releases her left hand, Mr. M----’s penis is now controlled by the catheter, held by her right.
“Nice and deep for you today, my fine pet. You’ll be dancing for me for the entire afternoon.”
She smiles with her comment then slowly pushes a plunger on the exposed end of the cylinder with her left thumb, Mr. M---- again yelps. His ability to emulate canine sounds is deeply ingrained.
The cylinder is withdrawn and Veronica stands. Dr. L------ explains.
“An amazingly effective method of behavior modification. Veronica has inserted a simple salt tablet into the urethra. As it dissolves, Mr. M---- will endure the most incredible level of pain. And of course urination will be most irritating. His full bladder will keep him very busy and focussed on Veronica and her counseling. You see, the only relief is full catheterization. And he’ll have to earn and beg for that.”
The Doctor and I pause in silence for several minutes. The tablet evidently begins to dissolve as Mr. M---- rolls to his side in pain.
“Now, let’s talk about your penchant for eating out of a doggie bowl...”
With Veronica’s comment, Doctor L------ steps away from the open door.
“Veronica will continue to counsel him for many hours, Doctor. And I believe you’ve experienced many such behavior modification sessions.”
> I nod as she leads me away. The door to room 6 remains open, and as we enter Dr. L------’s office more cries are heard.
“You must visit again sometime, Doctor. You’d be interested in one of our latest endeavors. We have begun to rehabilitate a male who was subjected to the cruelest of owners. His fingers and thumbs were surgically sutured together to prevent masturbation. We’ve reversed the procedure, of course. But teaching him to masturbate is a most interesting undertaking. Luckily we have skilled staff here that can accommodate his condition.”
With that thought-provoking image, my tour of the clinic is concluded. It is close to lunchtime, and I have an appointment at the local leather shop. The quality of its work and its proximity cannot be overlooked. There is much to be procured.
I thank Dr. L------ for her time and depart.
Chapter Six
Interview with Masturbatrix Nancy
January 31, 1998
My flight originally was to depart Munich this morning. But I have decided to accept Lady Constance’s gracious offer and visit her Caribbean retreat. Thus I reschedule the flight from Munich to Berlin for this afternoon, which better aligns with the flight from Berlin to Aruba and allows time to interview Nancy, the most accomplished masturbator of young males.
Nancy’s home is a short walk from my hotel. I check out of my room and arrange to have the concierge hold my luggage for the limousine. But in requesting that he instruct the driver to pick me up directly at Miss Nancy’s home, I observe the most interesting reaction from the splendidly uniformed, young man.
My request is not unusual, but when I give the concierge the address, he begins to stutter and demurs. It is evident that Miss Nancy’s abode is known to him and known in a manner that causes concern. But within moments, he recovers from his verbal fumbling and assures that my wishes ‘will be carried out to the letter’.
Rather an overreaction to a simple request, I think. But not entirely unusual based on past interaction with other males of the village.
A brief overnight storm has left a dusting of fine, powdery snow on the village streets and sidewalks. Although it is relatively early, the town square bustles with shopkeepers sweeping away the clean, white powder. The view of the beautiful mountains is much enhanced by the new covering, and the scenery looks as if a picture postcard has been brought to life with the sun illuminating the granite outcroppings high above.
Miss Nancy’s house is modest but immaculately maintained, as one would expect from a demanding woman. It is indistinguishable from the neighboring homes and perhaps that is intentional, as Miss Nancy’s avocation is not one to be flaunted.
But all illusions of modesty are lost when a naked, hooded male answers my ring at the door. He silently and obsequiously beckons for me to enter and assists in removing my coat. Miss Nancy appears from a parlor.
“Welcome, Doctor. I trust Gerhardt did not alarm you.”
She is dressed plainly compared to her latex, masturbation uniform. Her demeanor is of quiet confidence, and the strange presence of Gerhardt is ignored.
I smile and offer my warmest greetings. But my eyes are drawn back to Gerhardt. In addition to the smooth, shiny, black latex hood covering his face and head, he is belted. I recognize the device as one of the most secure and expensive chastity belts manufactured. Stainless steel with neoprene lining for long-term comfort, the design is considered ineluctable. No male has ever been known to attain an erection or orgasm while wearing one, and I had read of males under strict control wearing such devices for many months, except for occasional respites for cleaning.
Gerhardt is also pierced in dozens of places with sturdy, steel rings along the outer most edges of his arms, legs and torso. There is also a sizable ring, which pierces his septum and protrudes through the hood’s opening for his nose and mouth. Miss Nancy notices my interest.
“It is Gerhardt’s unfortunate lot in life that he finds himself in service to the most skilled masturbatrix in Europe but is kept completely chaste. Rather ironic, don’t you think Doctor?”
With a sardonic laugh, Miss Nancy reaches down and tenderly palms Gerhardt’s free swinging testicles, which dangle under the entrapped penis. She then moves her deft fingers further under and between the thighs and briefly manipulates his perineum, causing Gerhardt to whine with the sensuous stirrings of her touch.
“Maybe next month, Gerhardt. But right now, we’ll have coffee in the parlor.”
She leads me to the adjoining room.
“The rings facilitate cleansing. He can be well restrained, while my maid gives him a sponge bath and the belt is washed.”
Nancy is evidently an American, judging from her speech. She is a person of pleasant appearance, some 45 years of age, tall, with shapely legs and a minimum of the excess weight so prevalent in people of middle age. Her hair is black and hints of untouched gray evidence her lack of vanity. When she points to a chair with a gesture of practiced hospitality, one cannot help notice the juxtaposition of soft fingers mounted on hands and wrists of steel, the many applications of lubricant and the lengthy sessions manipulating the penis having conditioned her anatomy to so adequately fulfill her vocation. Her motioned directive and general demeanor are of a person with purpose and focus. She reminds me of an athlete. When in competition, all thoughts and efforts are committed to the task at hand, and so it is on this sunny morning. The Director has suggested that an acquaintance of Lady Constance wishes to interview her; therefore all of Nancy’s thoughts and deeds will be committed to such.
As with Jasmine, I suggest she provide a chronology of her introduction to and the subsequent development of her skill. She immediately responds, and I hurry to remove pen and paper from my brief bag to capture her words.
“I was a good nursing student. But in serving a period of residency at a local hospital, I was written up twice for poor ‘bedside manners’.
“My advisor recommended entering the military where the lack of such empathy is not viewed with the same degree of gravity.
“I did. But dealing with sniveling males with scratches and bumps was wearing. I found myself catheterizing male patients with objectionable behavior no matter their injury or affliction, usually utilizing as large a diameter tube as I could obtain. It’s termed ‘giving him the hose’ in nursing parlance, and I soon gained a reputation for taming even the most opprobrious of soldiers. You know, Doctor, if the tube is inserted slowly with the proper twist at certain intervals, catheterization can be a marvelously effective method for the application of pain and the establishment of control. Normally, I would perform it on young males who had limited experience with the procedure, and trust me, they soon were groveling with newly found manners.
“And of course the occasional suggestion that changing to a larger tube may be in order kept even the most unruly patient in line.
“Well, my skills did not go unnoticed. Within a year, my supervisor recommended that I be promoted to a supervisory position in a special burn ward in Germany.
“It was an appropriate position for me. My callousness became an asset in treating the sensitive burns of the young soldiers. Despite many medical advances concerning the treatment of burns, the daily cleansing and changes of bandages is quite painful. Only the most aloof of nurses can function properly in the midst of the pitiful cries. And I seemed to revel with the power and complete control.
“I was some two months into my tour when a seasoned Doctor casually mentioned that a particularly young patient with thoroughly bandaged hands needed ‘special treatment’. He had been field-testing a new weapon, which backfired. Well burned but with no permanent damage, his conduct become quite obtrusive with my nursing staff after a couple of weeks. I was too young to recognize the symptoms as the randiness of a male in his sexual prime. But the doctor knew that the inability to utilize his hands was taking its toll. Finally, after another three days the doctor was more specific. ‘Apply generous amount of glycerin based lotion to this patient’s lower midsection and p
ubes, massage vigorously’, was his official orders on the chart.
“At first, I laughed and showed it to the other girls on duty. But when I later looked over the shoulder of one of my charges, as she changed the bed linen of the young soldier, I noticed she was working around a rather stiff erection. She was spending too much time concerned with the patient’s modesty, cautiously removing the sheets in such a manner as to minimize any view of the rather evident bulge in the hospital gown.
“Later at a staff meeting, I brought up the subject of productivity and was shocked to learn how much time my nurses spent in similar situations. You see, Doctor, burn accidents in the military involve the hands in ninety percent of the cases. Bandaged hands mean little or no manual relief. No relief means rather common and prominent displays of the erect male appendage.
“After discussion, I concluded my nurse’s time could be better utilized, and we could also modify the behavior of our patients. So I gave orders. Tumefied males would no longer receive special attention to protect their modesty; quite the opposite. I wanted them exposed to discourage such a condition. One young nurse suggested a special gown, which terminated at the waist. Two of the nurses skilled with needle and thread took the time to modify our supply. Within a week, those patients experiencing tumescence were denied full-length gowns and provided the altered brief garment, which ended at mid stomach some two inches above the navel.
“My young nurses soon became accustomed to the comical sight of their patients attempting to cover their engorged organs. Their bandaged hands and arms made their efforts rather clumsy and eventually the patients were encouraged to lie calmly and let the professional do her job.
The Constancia Compendium Page 13
