Aunt Phoebe's Masturbatorium Ch. 04

"Please, madame," the boy pleaded. "I'll do whatever you want, but don't let me be humiliated this way."

"If you don't do as I say you will suffer worse consequences," my aunt warned him.

The boy looked around the room, searching desperately for a sympathetic face. He found it in mine.

"He's afraid aunt Phoebe, can't you see that?" I blurted out.

Suddenly the room was dead quiet, and all eyes were now focused upon me. Angelique looked at me as if I had perpetrated a cardinal offence, but it was Lenore who stood up, her normally placid composure completely lost.

"Did anyone tell you to interfere, Ms. McKenzie?" she said hotly.

"No," I replied in a startled voice.

"You are here to observe. When and if your input is required, you will be duly informed. But for now you will sit there and say nothing. Am I understood?"

"Yes."

Lenore said something to my aunt and then resumed her seat. I saw her break into a quick discussion with Estelle and Justine, both of whom stole glances at me now and then, leaving me with no doubt in my mind that they were greatly displeased by my outburst.

I had never seen Lenore angry before, and it really shocked me to feel the brunt of her displeasure. And what made it worse was that it was I who had been the recipient of her scorn. Angelique, too, seemed at first surprised by the reprimand, but that soon wore off and was replaced with an obviously smug satisfaction that it was better that I, rather than her, who was made to look foolish in front of all these women. Charlotte Anjou, strangely enough, did not seem to take any relish in my apparent discomfort, looking at me with an almost parental concern that reminded me of her ancestor's motherly affection toward me as she guided me through the depths of the futuristic Masturbatorium. I noticed also that none of her close associates took any pleasure in my discomfort, nor did Dr. Monroe, which made me wonder why my cousin was trying to paint these women in a negative light.

During this entire faux pas, Mr. Villon stood exactly in the same spot, the crumpled robe still held at his midsection, protecting his genitals. Dr. Monroe said a few words to him, but he just kept shaking his head from side to side, refusing to give up his robe like a little boy who would not relinquish his toy. My aunt had seen and heard enough.

Rising from her chair, she ordered Dr. Monroe to physically remove the objectionable piece of clothing. As the doctor reached out her hand to grasp the gown from the boy's hands, he clung to it even tighter and pulled away from her, causing her to lose her balance. She fell onto the platform at the boy's feet, apparently uninjured but greatly humiliated. Alicia quickly came to her aid and helped the doctor to her feet, but the damage had been done.

I saw my aunt give Angelique a silent nod, and without warning my cousin dashed up onto the platform and delivered a hard slap across Mr. Villon's face, sending him reeling backward in shock. At the same time she grabbed the gown from his hands, leaving him now completely naked, and held it above her head triumphantly as though she were displaying a trophy.

But nobody in the room was looking at the crumpled clothing she held so proudly above her head. Instead their concentration was focused upon Mr. Villon, or more aptly, upon what Mr. Villon had been hiding beneath his gown.

All at once, every woman in the room gasped.

"Jesus Christ!" my aunt exclaimed, her face registering first surprise and then bemusement at the naked man on display. "You should have said something about that, doctor!"

Doctor Monroe turned to one side and looked down between the patient's legs. She smiled and shook her head, appreciating the shocked and amused responses of the excited women around her, having seen the source of their exuberance only the day before.

"I'm sorry," the doctor laughed. "I thought you knew. He is very well endowed."

"Endowed?" Felicia squealed. "Mama mia! He's enormous! Hung like a fucking horse!"

The entire group, who were now moving in closer to take a look at the patient's gargantuan organ, shared her observations.

"How big is his penis, doctor?" Justine inquired, craning her neck forward to get a better view.

"Alicia," the doctor said to the young nurse. "You measured him yesterday. How long is it?"

The nurse looked like she was going to bust out laughing but valiantly kept her composure.

"Fourteen and three-eighths inches, doctor," Alicia announced proudly, enjoying the women's astonished reactions at the mention of such an impressive statistic. "And that's flaccid," she added. "We've yet to see him erect."

A chorus of moans emanated throughout the room as the women absorbed the spectacle before them, and I watched as my cousin joined in the ruckus, laughing and gesticulating at the huge piece of flesh dangling between the cowering man's legs.

"Come here, Holly," she said. "You have to fucking see this!"

Not wanting to further displease my aunt or Lenore, I had remained in my seat in obedience to their orders. But now, with my cousin's approval, and seeing that the entire room was now in an uproar, I rose from my chair and stood next to Angelique. I was curious and wanted to get a better view of this monster penis. What I saw made me gasp.

The shaft itself was not erect, yet it hung almost to his knees. Its girth was probably about three inches around—an unprecedented specimen by any standards. His balls too, were very large and oval shaped, jutting out lewdly from each side of his penis. The thing almost didn't look real, so massive was its appearance. My cousin and I looked at each other in wonderment, and then we both broke out into unbridled laughter. Soon the entire group of women were laughing along with us, and pointing to, and making comments about, the young man's astonishing piece of equipment.

"Will you look at the size of that bloody dork?" Marge Davis shouted. "I wouldn't want it plying my furrow!"

"No wonder he didn't want to give a sperm sample," another woman laughed. "He didn't want anybody to see it!"

Mr. Villon, looking defeated and totally humiliated, hung his head and made no attempt to cover his genitals. It would have been useless anyway; his small hands could never have completely hidden his magnificent tool from view. Amidst all the commotion, his eyes did, at one point, meet mine, and I could almost feel his distress. Even while I was laughing at him, I began to hate myself for ridiculing what was, essentially, an abnormality over which he had no control. I stopped laughing then and moved away from my cousin, who didn't seem to notice or care that she had been responsible for the young man's shattering humiliation. As the tumult began to subside, Lenore ordered everyone to return to their seats, while Dr. Monroe, Alicia, and two other medical assistants stood on the platform and held Mr. Villon fast.

"Well," the Sisterhood leader said, clearing her throat. "That is the biggest schlong I have ever seen in my life!"

This comment sent the faithful into fits of laughter.

"Whoever thought we had such a treasure in our very midst!" she continued. "Phoebe, you must not keep such knowledge as this to yourself. Some of your Sisters may get jealous!"

The crowd laughed even harder this time, and my aunt Phoebe laughed hardest of all.

"Thank you, Angelique," Lenore said. "You've given your sisters a glimpse of a new and larger world!"

My cousin, who had just now resumed her seat, and was still holding Mr. Villon's gown in her hands, smiled victoriously as the crowd laughed and cheered.

"Doctor Monroe," Lenore said, wiping a joyful tear from her eyes. "I think it's time we got that sperm sample!"

A thunderous round of applause greeted this statement, but there was some discrepancy between Lenore and her associates as to who was going to do what to get Mr. Villon to ejaculate. Doctor Monroe looked perplexed as to what her next move might be, and my aunt, seeing the vacillation in the doctor's face, now saw an opportunity to advance her cause.

"Sister Lenore, if I may," she began. "This young man needs a firm and disciplined hand. I would like to suggest that my daughter Angelique conduct his punishment."

Lenore thought about this for a moment and then turned to Angelique. "Do you feel up to this task?"

Looking disdainfully at Mr. Villon, Angelique threw the gown back on the stage as if offering him a challenge.

"I'll take care of him," she said coldly.

"Very well," Lenore said. "He's all yours."

"Remember what I told you," Angelique said to me as she rose from her chair. "All men are shit, and the more you humiliate them, the more you can control them. Just watch."

"You shouldn't have hit him," I said. To which my cousin just smirked and turned her back on me.

There was an air of expectation in the audience now that the responsibility for Mr. Villon's punishment had fallen into Angelique's hands. For my aunt, who was now beaming with pride at her daughter's victory over the hapless man, this had become a defining moment—a moment in which, if Angelique could accomplish her task, would prove to the Sisterhood that Lenore's decision to name me as her successor was premature and ill advised. I knew that my aunt Phoebe loved me and didn't want to see me fail. But I knew that she loved her daughter more, and would do anything to promote Angelique's interests above those of my own. I understood this on an intellectual level, but emotionally it was a drain upon my nerves. I knew that my aunt had been continuously hammering away at Lenore over these past few weeks, using any chance she could to undermine the older woman's confidence in me. And now, seeing the appreciative look on my mentor's face at Angelique's bold, but seemingly necessary, action taken against the recalcitrant Mr. Villon, I began to realize that her negative impression of my cousin's character might have been premature and flawed, and worth reexamining in light of the hitherto lesser candidate's recent achievement.

As Angelique confidently took the stage next to the timorous young man, her arrogant posture seemed indicative of a battle already won. I had not appreciated the fact that she had chosen to resort to physical violence to achieve her ends, although I, myself, had been at a loss as to what to do to retrieve the robe. Now, with the benefit of hindsight, I think my solution would have been to calm the boy down somehow, rather than exacerbate his misery. Such an idea would have been foreign to my headstrong cousin, who, after all, regarded most men as nothing more than vermin.

Angelique now stood directly in front of the patient, surrounded and held in check by Dr. Monroe, nurse Alicia, and two other formidable-looking female assistants, both attractive brunettes in their twenties. She stared at his sleek, muscular body with contempt, her eyes finally resting on his outsized penis. The boy, fearing she might strike out at him yet again, took a few steps back, trying unsuccessfully to use his hands to cover the source of her distaste.

"If I had something like that hanging between my legs, "Angelique said to Mr. Villon, "I wouldn't want anyone to see it either."

Some of the women laughed.

"I guess you don't have sex very often, do you?"

Mr. Villon stared down at the floor and said nothing.

"Of course you don't. What woman in her right mind would want that ugly thing anywhere near her?"

There was no laughter this time, only the sound of shuffling feet and muffled voices. Angelique then let one of her hands fall onto his chest, teasing his nipple. The boy instinctively drew back.

"Don't worry," she said. "I'm not going to hit you again. Unless you make me angry."

My cousin asked me to bring her a chair, which I dutifully did. So that no one's view was obstructed, she sat down a few feet away and on a diagonal plane to Mr. Villon. She then removed her shoes and crossed her lovely, long legs in a splendid cheesecake-style pose, aiming the toes of her right foot directly underneath his elephantine organ. She let her foot bounce up and down several times, just lightly touching the underside of his shaft, causing him great alarm.

"I want to make this easy for you, Mr. Villon," Angelique began, taking pleasure in letting her toes tease the delicate flesh of his cock. "Give me what I want and you can leave. Resist me and face the consequences."

"What...what consequences?" the boy stammered, as he watched his tormentor's toes move slightly down to play with the loose skin around his huge testicles.

Angelique grinned. "The consequences are that if you should fail to produce a sperm sample, you will be placed into a machine that will forcibly extract the sperm from you. It's not a pleasant experience, trust me."

Mr. Villon stood there numbly, looking nervous.

"Of course I might decide to kick you in the balls as well if you don't comply."

To emphasize her point, my cousin raised her toes upward into Mr. Villon's sac, making him wince.

"Please, you are hurting me, mademoiselle!" the boy complained.

"Angelique!" the doctor said, reaching out her hand to push the offending foot away.

My cousin let out a sinister laugh. "Don't worry doctor, I'm not going to hurt him—yet."

Doctor Monroe frowned. "Sister Lenore," she began. "I don't think physical abuse is the answer here."

"For the moment you will follow Angelique's orders," Lenore replied.

My cousin stole a quick glance at me and smiled wickedly.

"And you, Angelique," Lenore continued. "If you damage his balls, it's unlikely he'll be able to give us that sample. Now get to it."

"Yes, Sister," Angelique replied.

"We'll need the specimen jar," Dr. Monroe said to Angelique. "The very large one."

"I should think so," my cousin laughed. "Nurse," she said to Alicia. "Please fetch the jar and bring it here."

Alicia went to retrieve the jar and returned moments later with a glass beaker about two feet in length and wide enough to accommodate the monstrous shaft. She handed it to Angelique.

"Do you see this?" my cousin said to Mr. Villon as she held the beaker aloft. "You are to ejaculate into this. Is that understood?"

Mr. Villon was almost going to reply, but remained silent, letting his eyes dart around from one end of the room to another like a terrified animal seeking shelter.

"Is that understood?" Angelique repeated emphatically.

"Yes," he replied feebly. "But this...this is so humiliating. I don't think I can do it."

"Of course you can do it you foolish man. And do you know why? Because I know about your little secret: your fetish for women's sweaty, smelly feet!"

This surprising revelation made everyone laugh. Even Dr. Monroe couldn't contain herself, laughing heartily along with the rest of her staff as Mr. Villon's face turned crimson with shame.

"Many men have this sick and disgusting fetish," Angelique continued. "Why should you be any different?"

"How do you know about this?" the boy cried, his voice breaking under the weight of this new humiliation.

"Word gets around, Mr. Villon. But I knew you had a foot fetish by the way you constantly kept looking at my feet. Well? Here they are! And here's the specimen jar. How about I rub my feet up and down your cock until you spurt that huge load of cum out of your cock and into this jar? Would you like that? I know Dr. Monroe would like to watch you shoot your hot semen, wouldn't you doctor?"

"Yes, actually," the doctor replied. "I always enjoy watching my patients ejaculate."

"How about you nurse?" Angelique said to Alicia. "Would you like to see my feet bring him to orgasm?"

"I think it would be fun to watch," the nurse replied.

Angelique then turned to face the audience. "How about it Sisters? Would you all love to see my hot, sweaty feet bring this fucking guy off?"

This provoked a tremendous response from the crowd.

"Yes! Yes! Make him shoot it all into the jar!" Janet Walsh screamed as she leaned back on the table and lifted one of her own amazingly long legs over the other.

"

The rest of the audience soon took up this chant. I could tell that although my cousin was enjoying her rapport with the audience, Mr. Villon was clearly becoming more distressed instead of turned on at the prospect of being masturbated in this fashion. It would be interesting to see if his fascination with my cousin's feet would be enough to overcome his inherent shyness.

The patient was instructed by Dr. Monroe to plant his feet firmly on the platform about two feet apart with his hands held behind his back. She stood to his right, her body pulled in close to his to aid in his support, while the two assistants supported him from the opposite side. Nurse Alicia had retrieved a jar of Vaseline at my cousin's request and now handed it to Angelique. Angelique, in turn, handed the pretty nurse the beaker, which she now carried to a spot several feet away to the patient's left and just behind my cousin.

"Are you going to behave yourself or will you have to be restrained?" my cousin asked the wary young man as she dug her fingers into the jar and pulled out a huge glob of grease, which she began to apply sensually to the toes of both feet.

"I...I will behave," he said softly, watching intently as his tormentor lazily applied the lubricating substance to her soles and in between the crevices of her toes.

"I'm glad to hear it. Otherwise I'd have to strap you onto the examination table like Dr. Monroe tried to do."

It was clear that the doctor did not appreciate this last snide comment, as it insinuated that she had somehow failed in her duty. She shot Angelique a cold stare and then looked away; her face registering indignation.

"Oh, you don't have to strap me down, mademoiselle," Mr. Villon said humbly. "I'll give you your sample."

Angelique didn't even look up at him. She simply laughed and continued to apply the Vaseline, now to the top of her feet as well. "Doctor," she said. "We're going to need to lubricate his schlong too. I want you to coat it with this stuff and then get him going for me."

"What do you mean, 'get him going'?" Dr. Monroe asked sullenly, as she took the jar from Angelique.

"I mean I want you to get him hard. You know how to do that I hope?"

This second rather callous remark, a direct reference to the doctor's prior ineptitude, made the sultry redhead visibly angry. It was obvious my cousin didn't like this woman, but to insult her pride in front of all the other Sisters displayed an appalling lack of propriety. The doctor, to her credit, said nothing, and proceeded to put on a pair of surgical gloves. The entire room had fallen silent.

"Okay," Angelique said to the doctor. "Lay it on thick."

"Just give her what she wants okay?" Dr. Monroe whispered into the young man's ear. "I promise I won't hurt you."

Mr. Villon seemed to relax a little bit as she said this, but his main attention was focused on my cousin's glistening feet, now fully prepared to take on their masturbatory duty.

Doctor Monroe dipped her fingers into the jar of Vaseline and drew out a substantial amount of the lubricant, which she then began to apply to the still flaccid shaft of Mr. Villon. As soon as he felt her gloved hands upon his penis he moaned softly, watching her expertly rub the greasy solution all over his penis and balls. She appeared to take pleasure in her work, manipulating his cock in a slow, sensuous way, hopeful that her careful handling of him would prove efficacious in the production of the sperm sample.

"Do you jerk off a lot?" Angelique asked the patient.

"Yes, yes...," he groaned, as Dr. Monroe's right hand glided effortlessly up and down his now well-greased pole.

"How many times a day do you do it?"