Two weeks later, Doug entered the waiting room again. Even though his mind had been almost completely occupied with thoughts of this appointment over the past two weeks – he had trouble focusing at work, often taking breaks to masturbate while imagining how this day would go – he had no idea what to actually expect. He noticed that he couldn't hear voices through the door to the office as he normally could when the previous patient was finishing up. In fact, he realized there was a note taped to the door.
Doug – Go inside. Look at what I have laid out on the coffee table. Follow all the directions. Be back in 15. – Dr. R
More confused than ever, Doug opened the door and went into the office. Everything seemed normal, though he couldn't remember ever being in the office without Dr. Rogers before. He walked back to the seating area and saw that she had left a cardboard box for him on the table. Still unsure, he picked up a second handwritten note.
Doug:
Take off all your clothes. In an effort to help you come to terms with your body, you will not be wearing clothes in this office anymore. I have something for you here. You are not dim-witted. There are instructions. You can figure out how this works. Put it on.
Be kneeling with your legs spread and arms behind your back when I return.
- Dr. R
Doug put the note down. His mind was racing with possibilities. So far this was hewing remarkably close to the fantasies he had cultivated over the past two weeks. It was certainly a strong move from Dr. Rogers. What exactly is she planning?
He glanced up at the clock on the wall and realized he didn't have much time before Dr. Rogers said she would return. He quickly undid his belt and button and unzipped his fly, and he started kicking off his jeans as he unbuttoned his collared shirt. Then, standing in his underwear and socks, he folded the garments and placed them neatly on the floor next to the table. He pulled his socks off and draped them on top of the pile. He took a look at the door to the waiting room, then he hooked his fingers into his boxers, yanked them off and placed them folded on the pile of clothes.
Doug suddenly felt very exposed. His skin prickled with goosebumps as he felt the cool air from the overhead vent drift over his body hair. Even though he had dropped his pants at his last visit, it felt very different being completely naked. He had felt a measure of control last time – after all, it had been his idea to show Dr. Rogers his penis – but that was gone. He realized that this adventure was henceforth out of his hands. He couldn't imagine not obeying Dr. Rogers, especially now that she knew the extent – or lack thereof – of his shame.
All of those feelings swirled inside Doug, leaving his small penis to hang limply from his hairless groin despite his increasing arousal. His scrotum, drawn up close to his body in the drafty office, was barely visible. The butterflies in his stomach seemed to be fluttering up his throat. He turned his attention back to the box on the table. He only had five or six minutes before Dr. Rogers was due back.
He opened the cardboard box. Inside was another box, this one black and glossy and emblazoned with an image of a transparent plastic cage shaped like a penis. Doug stood motionless for moment as he wrapped his brain around this latest development.
Doug wasn't completely thrown. He had come across plenty of chastity play in his porn searches, but he had never worked up the courage to buy a device for himself. He hadn't even really done any research about them; he hadn't been sure he could handle the frustration of locking up his manhood, such as it was. The part of his brain that insisted on asserting his masculinity couldn't come to terms with surrendering his orgasms and erections. But he thought back to Dr. Rogers' instructions, and he had a notion that his feelings about the cage weren't going to matter.
According to the label, this device was called a CB-6000s. Doug lifted the top flap and pulled out a plastic bag. There it was: the small cock-shaped tube. It seemed impossibly short and narrow, even for him. Right then, he had an overwhelming sensation of his penis' smallness. He glanced down, and saw the inch-long wrinkled nub poking out over his tightened hairless scrotum. The cage might be too big for him at his smallest, he realized.
Also in the bag were several other hard, plastic pieces, including rings of various sizes, as well as a small box, maybe an inch long. Curious, he opened the Ziploc seal and fished it out. He realized what it was the second before it slid out into his hand. The padlock was also smaller than he would have guessed. There were two tiny keys next to it in his palm. He gulped. What had he gotten himself into?
Only three minutes left. Doug found a set of instructions inside the black box. It took some mixing and matching of the rings, but he found the one that fit snugly under his balls. He got all the other pieces in place before it was time to slide the tube on. His little cock had stiffened somewhat with the action of fitting on the cage's pieces, but it still looked pathetic jutting out over his hiked-up balls. He felt the cool air move over his shaft one last time.
Doug slid the tube on. He had to cram it down – carefully and slowly to avoid pinching his skin – over his semi-erection for the last few centimeters to get it to line up with the locking mechanism. All of a sudden, everything was in place. With his last bit of courage, he slid the lock through the hole and clicked it. He grabbed his package to test it. His constrained balls registered the feel of his fingers, but his shaft and cockhead felt nothing. There was no sensation at all. His fingers felt only plastic.
Dr. Rogers could enter any second. Doug knelt on the floor in front of the table and crossed his arms behind his back. He felt the cage weighing his cock and balls down. The cool air in the office filtered past the rigid, locked mass, and Doug saw with a glance that his shriveled penis – now at perhaps maximum flaccidity and minimum size thanks to the bundle of nerves in his stomach – indeed didn't even fill the short tube. Moments passed. Doug was facing away from the clock, and he couldn't even guess how long he waited there, though in actuality it was only a few minutes.
Just as he started to slouch in his position, Doug heard the door from the waiting room to the hallway open and close. He quickly straightened up and spread his knees further apart to expose his locked little cock. The office door opened and Dr. Rogers entered. Doug's stomach was in knots, but Dr. Rogers didn't even spare him a glance as she walked to her desk. Leaning over her rolling chair, she made several keystrokes on her computer and jotted down a few lines in the large calendar that always lay on her desk.
Doug view from his spot on the floor was somewhat obscured by the chair Dr. Rogers usually sat in. He started to get a little frustrated that he had put so much effort into following her instructions and she was totally ignoring him so far. Hell, he paid for these sessions and she was at least 15 minutes late! His masculine brain decided he would ask where she had been. He craned his neck to see her better and coughed slightly in an effort to clear his throat. At the noise, Dr. Rogers' head shot up and she locked eyes with him in a commanding gaze.
"Do not speak, little boy," she said coldly. Doug didn't need telling twice. He returned to his original position, his cage swinging softly between his legs. His eyes were on the floor.
Finally, Dr. Rogers finished her work at the desk and slowly walked over to the seating area. Doug kept his eyes fixed on the leg of the chair in front of him. She stepped in front of him. He saw long legs, smooth, elegant, tan and bare. She wore a pair of strappy black high heels. Doug gulped. Even something about the way she stood exuded sexuality – more than he had ever witnessed in her – and total confidence and control.
"Look up, little boy," she said in her familiar rasp, though even that was laced with a command he had never heard before. He raised his eyes. She wore a tight grey skirt that ended just above her knee. Her large, womanly bosom loomed over him, outlined clearly in her navy blue women's blazer. Above that, he saw the lapels of a white blouse. Her brown, highlighted wavy hair was pulled back and pinned up. She wore just the right amount of makeup. Doug felt her eyes rove up and down his pathetic body as she peered down at him dispassionately. She was cold and hard and perfect.
Doug's opinion of her must have been obvious on his face, because Dr. Rogers' stoic visage broke into a smirk. Doug was aware of his hairy stomach, his pale doughy legs and most of all the absurd contraption hanging from his shaved groin – all totally on display before this goddess – and felt incredibly unattractive. He cowered below her.
