The Decision, A Femdom Novel

Chapter One “Six foot four, 245 pounds. Age 24. Quite the specimen.” The doctor of some 45 years speaks with authority. There is knowledge...there is intellect...there is also the wisdom of many years in medicine. “Blood pressure superb. Lab work came back without a blemish. Yes, you’re quite the find.” The chart and clipboard are laid aside. A firm but soothing hand grasps the wrist of the apprehensive patient. “Pulse is just a tad high, but that’s understandable...considering...” the doctor’s words are left to hang with a knowing smile. The heart beat races because the patient sits upright with head and shoulders tilted back. He is completely naked on an examination chair normally used by gynecologists. Feet and calves are thoroughly strapped to widely extended stirrups...arms secured to his sides by comfortable but firm institutional nylon straps. The extreme separation of the thighs, forced apart by the unrelenting hand of a determined nurse working the adjustment wheel to turn fine gearing, is stressful for the male gender. But what is more stressful is the atmosphere. The chair rests in the middle of a large room. Many people seem to be sauntering in and out, most too busy to notice the handsome ‘specimen’ undergoing the doctor’s palpation. But, on occasion, one of the young, inexperienced nurses stroll in, glances toward the naked and bound form, smiles, and represses a giggle. “And how are these doing?” the doctor inquires with pleasant bedside manner, nodding toward the well exposed pubes area. There comes the snap of rubber as gloves are donned, right hand and left. The latex covered hands reach down to a stainless steel basin resting on a small adjustable table propped between the patient’s thighs. Its height has been raised so that languishing in soothing warm saline is the sizable scrotal sac of the virile ‘specimen’. The pouch is notably pink; the skin smooth and soft. The presentation of intimate male anatomy before a myriad of females indeed gives rise to a racing heartbeat. The thumb and forefinger of the left hand knowingly pinches the p***s. In an amusing diversion, the doctor feels it twitch and throb, bringing a smile. Still, it is lifted straight up to better reveal the mass of flesh with the meaty plums encapsulated within. The egg sized testes seem to half float in the warm solution as the gloved right hand gently pinches a tuft of skin at the top and lifts the sac from the liquid. It shines in the room light and drips as expert eyes examine. “Yes, very nice. A thorough shaving followed by a warm bath in a special formulation of astringent and depilatory chemicals. It must feel very comforting.” The handsome young specimen nods warily. He also feels his manhood twitch. It is beginning to firm and, though the warm solution indeed lends comfort, tumescence will certainly heighten the ignominy of half sitting, half lying totally naked before all. The pulse increases. There comes outright embarrassing throbbing where, during intimacy, the male normally welcomes attention. The fingers of the right hand explore, pinching, kneading, even caressing in an oddly sensual manner. There is a sense that the testicles are no longer those of the handsome owner but, instead, have been lent for examination, offered in greetings to a visiting guest. “Firm. You’re good sized. This will be a tough decision. Glad I am not the one to make it.” The right hand lifts further allowing the fingers of the left to shift and enshroud both p***s and scrotum. The organs are pulled upward. The perineum is revealed. “Here....and here,” the doctor lectures as the index finger of the right hand grazes small creases of skin at the very bottom of the genitals where the scrotal sac meets the perineum. “Just the tiniest of incisions with a laser scalpel. You won’t be sitting upright. I’ll have you on all fours with your knees forced well apart....head down...bottom up. Rather embarrassing but the access is best. The nurses will make you comfortable. Though I’ll need you well secured, the table will be padded. You will simply rest tummy down while I work. We videotape all procedures, and you’ll be able to watch my efforts in real time on a high definition television screen. Some find it interesting. Some disgruntling. But all find it most degrading.” The doctor releases her grip, steps back and smiles as the p***s slowly rises. A thought has been planted, a kernel of s****l subservience that causes the male organ to grow. And the doctor is sanguine in observing the specimen react just as his psychological profile has predicted. Subjugation arouses. “How long?” a tremulous voice manages to squeak. “For the incisions? Just moments. Then a minute to probe a bit within the scrotum and draw out your little jewels. Since I keep the openings tiny to minimize scarring and infection, it requires a little effort to slip the testicles through the incisions. But over the years, I have come to measure well. They always come out...of that I can assure you.” The apprehensive patient is horrified with the insouciance, the somewhat irritating savoir fare of the handsome doctor. Her words will long be remembered....‘they always come out’...speaking of his precious gonads as if such were fruit to be harvested...a small animal to be trapped and skinned...a mighty oak to be lumbered? “And then?” “Your owner has to decide. That’s when I suggest you become most humble and contrite. But then again, she may not want that. She may want a subjugant who is more of a fighter...a gladiator. One who resists...willing to verbally thrust and parry to keep his most prized possessions. You’ll just have to do your best if you wish to remain intact.” “But how long?” “In making the decision? Oh, you’d be surprised. Just as your scrotum is immersed in special solution now, I’ll have a similar basin waiting with a very antiseptic liquid. Believe it or not, all the ducts, nerves and vessels stretch beautifully...they unravel like slack electrical extension cords. Just think...these little organs will be completely exposed but still functioning. And you’ll be able to move a little but, obviously, not far...don’t want to leave these behind...” The doctor laughs with the thought of the disastrous implications of the hapless male ignoring his circumstances and neutering himself by moving off sans gonads. Meanwhile, her patient cringes. “But how long?” he beseeches again. “Could be days. We keep everything quite sterile. As I said the incisions will be small, and I can keep them open indefinitely. The laser scalpel nicely cauterizes as it cuts. There will be limited bleeding. I am told by other patients that you will feel coolness where never before felt. The wafting of air in places and on parts never before exposed. You will feel incredibly vulnerable...completely helpless...which is our intention, of course.” The doctor steps forward noticing that the anxiety has brought full erection. Young nurses seem to walk past more slowly in admiring the male salute to the governing female. “Yes...you’re going to feel wonderfully controlled. You’ll need assistance in evacuating your bowels while awaiting the decision. And you’ll be catheterized...our special form of catheterization, by the way. But, otherwise, we will remove all straps, and you’ll be able to move about as best you can....as long as you keep these immersed. A nurse will help you if your muscles cramp up. We’ve taken some on a little walk from time to time. It’s awkward but not impossible. “Think of these as becoming a rather peculiar leash.” The doctor laughs uproariously in referencing balls about to be foraged by the laser scalpel; her interlude of humor augmented by the sight of the fully standing p***s. “So glum? Take heart. It could be that the decision is to let you remain intact. In which case, I simply slip the testes back in place and suture. Otherwise...with just a snip, snip, snip, you may be freed of your leash...permanently. Either way, you’ll feel quite relieved.” The doctor chuckles and turns to leave as a stern nurse approaches. “Catheterize him. Lot’s of liquids. Drain him at your leisure.”