Chapter Twelve
Monday morning I passed from feverish dreams to feverish reality at the abrupt beeping of the alarm clock. Groaning I cast off the covers. Since sitting up was presently beyond me I craned my neck to get a look at the source of my misery.
Once again my c**k was straining madly, painfully, and futilely. Yet now was it not only unable to ejaculate, it couldn’t even get more than a quarter erect. Cruel steel held it cramped and confined, filling all the available space and even bulging through the bars of its cage. Nor was just this normal ‘morning wood’. My dreams had actually been memories, the same memories I had repressed while awake – and yet with terrifying embellishments. In them I had been bound not with ropes and chains in a sumptuously comfortable bed but stretched
