Sunday—Requiem
I don't know how long I slept, but I woke much more rested than the night before. I think the previous two days had exhausted all of us, including our Mistress.
What finally awakened me was the sound of lots of activity at the head of the four poster bed. A six foot wooden frame with a pulley suspended from the top rail was in place. I hadn't heard it being moved in the room.
I woke up, sat up, looked around and realized the aluminum bucket was still there, several lengths of rope were laying across the bed (which mercifully finally had clean sheets), a medical tray with many instruments was perched on a rolling table next to the bed, and our Mistress had donned a sexy nurses uniform—the kind you can get at a novelty store around Halloween.
Of course handsome Mr. Long Penis was still naked, I think he had been all weekend, and was working on getting the frame in place under our Mistress's direction.
"Good morning," she said in the most friendly tone she had used all weekend. "It's time for your examination. Step over here please."
I complied.
"Please lay back on the bed and put your feet in the air." I did as I was instructed.
Holding her nose, she looked at her naked assistant and said "He smells awful. Please take him to the corner and have him wash."
Her well-hung assistant lifted me by the arm—I was still a bit unsteady, and walked me toward a corner of the room. There was a small drain but no shower. He picked up a hose and tossed me a bar of soap. He began to spray me. The water was cold, but rather refreshing and it helped me wake up. He wet me down, I washed myself, and then he sprayed me off.
"Be sure to get those testicles thoroughly cleaned." He stepped closer to me, I raised my penis, and he applied the spray directly to my balls. Damn, the pain already started. I didn't say a word because I felt today was going to be the toughest day of all, and I didn't want to make it worse for myself by complaining already.
The assistant threw me a dry towel and I quickly dried myself off. He took me by the arm and helped me back to the bed.
"Lay back again," she said. I obeyed and lay crossways across the bed. Sniffing the air, she said, "ahhh, much better, my pungent patient. Now put your feet up please." I did.
Without so much as a word, her assistant with the long slender penis walked to the other side of the bed, grabbed my feet and pulled them toward him. The head of his circumcised penis was (for a change) pointing downward, about an inch from my forehead.
Our Mistress sat on a stool, leaned forward, gently grabbed my testicles, and began examining them again.
"The swelling and bruising is much better," she said "which means our fun can continue. However, this left one has given us a lot of trouble this weekend and I think we need to remedy that. Remember how much trouble he had getting it inside him and how it slipped out when we were playing our games?"
"You may release him and step to the instrument tray." She instructed her naked assistant. Even though I knew I was in for an ordeal, I began to get aroused and I could feel my penis swelling.
He walked around to the tray. She looked at him and said "Clamp." He held out a medical clamp, the kind a surgeon might use on a bleeding artery. She took it in her right hand, tightened it around my scrotum just above where my left testicle is attached to the chord, and tightened it in place. It hurt a bit, but wasn't terribly painful. I breathed, but didn't utter a sound.
"The problem with this left testicle, sir, is that it doesn't hang as low as the other one. That's what's been causing us so much trouble this weekend. I aim to remedy that." She said matter-of-factly.
She instructed her naked assistant to step to the clamp, and pull it toward him. "Let's see if this solves the problem. If not, we may need more extreme measures."
He started to pull and the pain caused me to start to pant. "Pull harder," she shouted. I began to feel my left nut extend toward him and the pain of having it constricted within my sack was horrible.
"Keep pulling," she shouted and I saw him start to lean back in an effort to apply more force. I began slapping my hands on the bed, but still didn't cry out, fearing the consequences.
The pain shot into my stomach and the nausea returned.
After two or three minutes, the pulling was so forceful that I began to slide off the bed toward him.
"OK, you can release the clamp." Our Mistress ordered. Mr. Long Penis complied.
"Let's have a look at you." She said. After a moment of some rather pleasant fondling, she said, "Left one still doesn't hang low enough. We're going to have to go to plan B." I had the impression that she was going to use plan B regardless of whether plan A worked anyway.
"Please secure him to the bed," she instructed her well endowed assistant. "We can't have him slapping the bed any more."
His work was also having an effect on him, he was at full mast and his long slender penis was throbbing and bouncing up and down.
"We must further evaluate how to tame this rogue left testicle."
The assistant secured me to the bed, feet first then hands. Again, his penis, in its high erect position, was only a few inches from my face as he secured my hands. She saw my reaction to his long slender organ and barely suppressed her smile.
Our Mistress handed him a length of thin cotton rope and instructed him, "Tie off the left testicle and make sure we can access this ring." She slid a metal ring down the rope.
