My next appointment was for erectile dysfunction later that day. I had been saving up a giant load for days, edging just to the point of orgasm. Whe... the 35ish blonde milf doctor asked if I would be comfortable with her examining my genitals (which would also be recorded on camera) my penis was already getting a little hard inside those satin panties and the words were music to my perverted ears.She had me hop on the table and asked me to pull down my pants and underwear to mid thigh. As she. The words come, but I cannot identify their font. My memory remains elusive. “You are our plaything.”The voice sounds wrong. It sounds like it is made from a synthesizer, a word I know, but a word divorced from its meaning. “What?”Pain. There is pain radiating from my balls, pain that shoots to my thighs and back. The things stuck to me are hurting me. There is screaming in my head. No – I am screaming. The pain stops and I fall limp in my restraints. “You are our plaything. You must be trained. A cloud of light grey smoke came up from the bong and into my lungs, making me almost immediately light headed. I kept sucking in and breathing out my nostrils until there was nothing left. Fuck dude, I said, handing the bong back to Aaron. How do you feel? Isabelle asked letting go of my arm to find a chair in Kyles messy room. Right now? Light headed, I coughed, but pretty fucking great. Can I try? Isabelle asked, curious to see what it was like. Sure, Kyle said, handing the bong off to. There's nothing I can do. It hurts to rub it, scratching it is totally out of the question, I'm sure soaking it in the bath would ease the burning but it would sting more. And you've got it covered up with this stupid box, so there's nothing I could do to it anyway. The inside feels more bruised, like when someone punches you on the arm. It's kind of there all the time but I don't notice it until I think about it." OK. I think we probably just used some muscles for a different purpose inside..