The Decision, A Femdom Novel

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

“One more glass now, Mr. Strothers. When you have anxiety, it’s best to drink.”

The petite hand extends, holding another full ration of water. There is a glass straw to be utilized as the patient remains sitting with arms secured to his sides, feet in stirrups and legs widely parted. The pretty blonde nurse stands proximate such that the folds of her white cotton uniform brush against the insides of the thighs. The young and handsome Mr. Strothers has been amazed with the determination of the spunky blue eyed girl. His reluctance to finish a second glass earned painful pinching and twisting of his n*****s, treatment considered rather brazen and most unprofessional. But he has been rapidly learning that conduct at the clinic is well outside the norms of medical deportment.

And so as the third sizable glass is offered, he knows to purse his lips and suck, despite the incredible pressure building in his bladder.

Meanwhile, just as Nurse Ingrid had suggested, the catheter tube, not fully inserted but, instead, expanded to press against the prostate gland, indeed causes tumescence. Yet, before full erection is achieved, the slowly building anguish mercifully brings deflation. There is a constant cycle and Nurse Karen joyously announces each change.

“Oh, now you’re going to get hard for me.”

And so, before the pretty girl, Mr. Nicholas Strothers sits completely naked and bound, about the only thing able to move is his penis...and it does so involuntarily.

A cute free hand reaches for the right n****e as the level of liquid fails to satisfactorily diminish. Strothers redoubles his efforts, knowing that the relentless fingers will bring increasing agony until he drinks and drains the glass. Though he feels his lower belly extending, he obediently sucks.

“Why do you boys do it?”

The calm, innocent voice belies the wickedness being extended. Young Nurse Karen is like a child who callously pulls the wings from insects in guileless exploration. She smiles while she torments.

“The money,” Nicholas Strothers succinctly replies between slurps. “There were so many bills. And the credit card limits were busted. Now in exchange for five years of service, I owe nothing.”

“Nothing other than your balls,” the nurse crassly reminds.

A sullen Nicholas Strothers has no retort. Sadly, he did not fully read the agreement that was returned to him after submitting full body nude photos. He signed and mailed...knowing that there would be an auction and knowing that he was indentured for five years....not knowing of possible physical alteration...

The glass drains and Nurse Karen retracts her arm. She looks down at the catheterized p***s.

“Here it comes again,” she notes with a giggle.

The humiliation of knowing that the girl watches in amusement augments the unconscious attempt to become erect. Something within finds her observation to arouse.

“Well, depending on the decision, you may not have that problem much longer,” she teases.

In reminding the patient of the forthcoming procedure, there again is spurred the question which cannot be repressed.

“How long will it take? I’d just like to get it over,” a resigned and psychologically vanquished ‘specimen’ again inquires.

“Sometimes days. Some women like to extend the decision...consult with friends and family. Watch the reaction of the patient. As the doctor probably told you, we’re very careful here. Everything’s quite antiseptic. No reason to rush.”

“And afterwards?”

Nurse Karen laughs.

“Why ask the question now. Shouldn’t you have asked that before the auction? You sold yourself...and now you wonder what will happen? Five years of service, you must know that.”

Nurse Karen puts the empty glass aside. Fingers begin to poke and prod at the lower abdomen. The slightest touch enhances the sense of fullness. The naked patient grimaces.

“I have to go real bad,” he beseeches.

“We’ll decide. That’s something you’re going to have to become accustomed to...the control...or rather the lack of it.

“And it’s ‘Miss Karen’. Try again and be polite.”

“I have to go real bad, Miss Karen,” ‘Nickie’ obsequiously responds.

“No,” Nurse Karen playfully replies, smug with her patient’s servile response.

The hand lowers and gently pinches the top of the scrotal sac, remaining immersed in the basin. She draws out the dripping mass and inspects.

“Full and ripe,” she notes. “Ready for the next owner,” she adds in marveling at the essence of male power...yet also marveling in how easily subdued by the female.

“To bad these may go just because you couldn’t stop spending. The hairless scrotum has such a nice feel. At least that will remain in place. You may have a nice loose pouch of flesh here, depending on the decision. I am told it remains quite sensitive. That’s what the others have said.”

Nicholas Strothers quivers in being so pointedly reminded of his pending loss.

“What...what about the rest?”

“Are you speaking to me?”

“What about the rest, Miss Karen?” Nickie quickly corrects.

“You mean your p***s? What happens there?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, I have not worked here very long. I’ve tended to some patients returning for a check up...I do the measuring,” Nurse Karen adds with a smug look of pride.

“The measuring?”

“Oh, yes. We measure. I bring the patient to full erection then compare to our charts to measure the shrinkage. It’s slow and steady, but they all shrink over time. Something about the change in the hormone balance. Yes, Nickie, your p***s will shrink. You’ll have to ask the doctor or Nurse Ingrid for more information.

“What’s the difference if it gets smaller? You won’t be using it for anything,” Nurse Karen sardonically responds to the mournful look of surprise.

As full realization sets in, Nicholas Strothers enters despondency. The internet advertisement seemed like the quickest way to raise cash. Just send in biographical information and photos. When a reply came back requesting full body nude shots, he gleefully stripped and posed, using the delayed shutter on his digital camera in what he believed was a mischievous but harmless response to playful kinkiness. Then came a barrage of questions...very personal questions. He was being analyzed, and he knew it. Yet his need was great. Money for answering a questionnaire. So simple.

Then came the email detailing the auction, and the papers to be downloaded, signed and mailed. Then came the email with the winning offer. Then came that quick...too quick...calculation that the amount solved every one of his financial problems...all balances to be paid off...upon his immediate acceptance of the terms and conditions. Financial freedom earned in exchange for five years of toil...or whatever was required.

He was owned!

A certified letter arrived within three days, demanding he fulfill his obligation by carefully following detailed procedures. When he went on line and reviewed his numerous credit card balances, noting that all had been erased, he knew the demand was in earnest. The letterhead was from a law firm and strongly suggested immediate compliance with the agreement.

Nicholas Strothers, emancipated from all debt, packed his bags. Nicholas Strothers boarded a chartered plane bound for a destination unknown. Nicholas Strothers voluntarily entered a term of servitude.

Despite asking many times, no one would tell him the destination...not the pilots...not the flight attendant...not the staff greeting him at the clinic. At the arriving air strip, it was bright, sunny, and tropically warm. In flying over large expanses of water, he knew he was no longer in the United States. Otherwise, he knew nothing.