Enema Slave

This past Christmas a fractured arm, a blizzard, and a doctor’s perverse humor gave me a new life.

Just before my Christmas ski trip began, I learned of my big promotion and transfer to another state. That evening, I fell on the ice and broke my lower arm. It was minor and needed only a shield splint, but a vein was damaged a bit and the blood caused an itch. The MD was a friend, he and I played jokes on each other and I was several ahead of him. But he was all business when he saw me scratching hard and said that must stop.

Except for me, the surgery floor was empty for the holidays. Each nurse served four rooms, but I was Marla’s only patient then. She was tall, lovely, and blonde. I was just in my bikini shorts while the Doc examined me, for I had gotten some bruises, too. He said he’d halt my scratching for sure. I liked the feeling when Marla positioned my arms behind me, forearms parallel, fingers touching the opposite elbow. The Doc taped my arms together, then taped my fingers shut and hooked hands to elbows.

“You’re helpless as hell,” he laughed. Marla smiled knowingly. The Doc reminded me people thought I was out of town and that a blizzard, due the next day, would cancel all surgery. Marla lived close by, as did two other nurses, and he had a 4-wheel drive Jeep.”I guess the five of us will be all alone,” he chuckled.

Suddenly I felt nervous. “What goes on?”

“You’ll stay like that for days,” he said. “I’ve already given the nurses free rein. You may be ahead of me on jokes now, but the biggest will be on you.”

I soon learned. At noon, Marla came in and I said I had to piss. She pulled my shorts off. When I came back from the bathroom, she announced she would keep me naked.

“Now look here!”

Marla pushed the call button. “You protested, so it’s enema time.”

When he’s bound naked and helpless, three nurses handle a man easily. I was on my knees, ass high, face to the floor, a tube up my ass, and the nurses laughing as the soapy water rushed into me. Fingers felt my cock and balls. I was begging for relief when they finally let me sit on the pot and expel the load. Marla even wiped my ass roughly.

“Every protest brings an enema, each one longer and rougher.”

“By God, you can’t . . .” I began. But they could and they did. I had to swear to follow orders and call Marla “Kind Nurse” before I got to expel the second load. Very docile, I sat on the bed, and she felt my belly. “You’re a bit flabby. Sit at attention!” I obeyed. She made me suck my gut in and arch my chest. “Stay like that for half an hour.” I said, “Yes, Kind Nurse.”

She said they would train me well, and my blood ran cold. I was really struggling to sit at attention when she had me get up. She tied slim plastic tubing around my neck, like a collar, and led me naked down the hall. I realized, with sudden fear, how very empty that floor was. The two other nurses grinned and followed us into the lounge. One removed a Christmas decoration from a hook, Marla tied my leash to it, and I stood there very helpless.

“Wait here for the Doctor,” Marla laughed. “He’ll come in two hours.” She paused, waiting. I knew fear, recalling the enema. “Yes, Kind Nurse.”

Every 15 minutes one came in to rub my cock, keeping it erect, and finger my asshole or squeeze my balls. I was dripping from the tip when the Doc showed up to look me over and laugh. He spoke to the nurses as he left. They brought in a food tray. Marla jerked me off. Spurts of semen shot onto the tray held before me. They put it on the floor and untied my leash. “It’s either dinner or an enema,” Marla said. In seconds, I was on my knees, head bent forward, eating the mess.

They took me to the nurses’ station and tied the leash to the wall, making me face it. I could see them unwrap a present from the Doc. A long, thin, wooden paddle. “It’s 6 p.m.,” said Marla. “Give him five swats every 15 minutes until 8 o’clock. That’s 40 swats. I’ll give the rest.”

I may not have convinced you of this, but the enema business had taught me I was helpless and any protest was futile. Not only did they slam that paddle so hard I cried but they stood on either side of me afterward and made me discuss my feelings. Being naked and helpless, and already having experienced their absolute power, stripped away any restraints and I realized I was revealing my deep, honest feelings. Yes, I admitted I was excited and scared. And, yes, I wasn’t totally turned off by what happened.

They said all nurses learn that males like to obey, once they fall under female authority. And nurses really enjoy making the male follow orders. And these proved it. They told me to start counting the swats, and I did.

My ass was on fire when Marla returned. It was snowing hard, she said, and we were totally alone. I almost cried when she touched my sore buttocks. She ordered me to beg for more. She made the other nurses look like sissies. I was sobbing and begging before she finished the first set of five. “Your wonderful Doctor prescribed 70 of these. And we always give the patient the full dose!”

At 9 p. m. I could barely stumble up the hall and fall face down on the bed. In an instant, it seems, it was 12, and Marla was back. The uniform was gone. Naked, like a beautiful savage, she led me back to the station. The others watched while I sank to my knees and obeyed her command to eat pussy for an hour. She gyrated and moaned and came and came, and I swallowed all of my Kind Nurse’s hot juices. She led me back, I knelt again, she jerked me off, and made me lick my load from the floor. After I confessed I was a weak, miserable, gutless male, she let me return to bed.

At 6 a. m. I had to duck walk the entire hallway while my naked nurse used a leather belt on thighs, belly, and chest. Each nipple was tortured by a snap clamp; a piece of plastic tube tied around my shaft kept me hard and kept me from coming. Later that morning, an enema tormented my guts and I spent the noon hour at rigid attention inside the station while a nurse watched for any sign of relaxing, which meant 20 hard swats. At 2 p. m. I lay spreadeagled on my bed, tied out tight, and the nurses took turns. While two watched, the third straddled my face and made me eat cunt, then rode me off from above. Then they untied my ankles and I had to kneel and lick assholes.

At 6 p. m. I ate on my knees and lapped water from a bedpan. At 8 p. m. they made be beg and beg to have them use a catheter to empty my bladder. Then they got out the razor. At 10 p. m. a miserable male was face down on the floor, legs spread wide, a wooden stick up his ass, licking his Nice Nurse’s feet and accepting the title of slave.

By the third morning it seemed an eternity since the Doctor had started his game, yet it was just 48 hours since I was taped helpless and just 36 since he saw me in the lounge. When he entered, Marla wore a crisp uniform and held a belt. I stood naked at attention, arms still tied together, sucking my gut far in and arching out my chest to lift the nipple clamps up at the desired angle. My cock rammed straight ahead and the end of a plastic rod projected from the tip. My belly, chest, and ass were covered with raw red lines. And I had no body hair whatsoever.

The doctor grinned as he looked me over. He touched my belly and Marla said, “Farther in, Slave!” and I pulled it in another fraction of an inch. The Doc flipped the nipple clamps and pain touched my face. He watched me with pleasure as I bit my lip when he twisted the rod inside my cocktube.

“You answer to slave, do you?”

“Yes, sir.” He began asking questions. Would the slave like a dildo up his ass? Is the slave happy? Does the slave like dominance by his Nice Nurse? And so on. To each I replied, “Yes, sir.”

He made me describe in detail what was done to me. Finally he said, “I told you the biggest trick would be played on you. And it was. Now you, a very successful young man, are a slave. I’m happy to have put you in your proper place.”

For the next three hours he sat in the lounge, with coffee and cigar, watching me dangle on tiptoe, cords running tight from nipple clamps to ceiling hooks. He enjoyed seeing Marla all but drive me off my feet with savage paddle blows and chuckled as a nylon hairbrush tormented my cock. And he ridiculed my tears.

“You’ll be sedated soon,” he announced. “When you wake up, you’ll find a new nursing staff. I’ll be on a vacation. Another physician will see to you. And I have no fear you’ll talk about any of this.”

“No, sir,” I said truthfully. “I won’t.”

I slept 36 hours, awoke to find no marks on me, and the next day was released. Last week, here in my new city, a specialist said my arm was OK. I called Marla.

I’ve spent sleepless nights wanting her to rule me and I realize my doctor friend planned that too–making me face the ultimate reality about myself. When I called and said, “Nice Nurse?” to her, I could sense her joy. “Slave,” she said, “when I arrive, I expect to find you cleanly shaven all over and prepared to undergo life-long training.”

She arrives tomorrow–and I’m ready.