In the Hands of Dr. Wojcik Part 1

Dr. Wojcik came around from behind the table, and quickly glanced at the computer monitor. She stood there for a moment, thinking, before finally peeling off the slippery gloves and throwing them in the waste-paper basket. She tapped a few instructions into the computer, then gave a grunt of evident satisfaction, before moving back in front of me. After dipping her now bare fingers into the cream canister, her left hand again reached forward and grasped my hanging scrotum, then the right took the penis again. The slow pumping resumed, my penis now pointing straight at her throat. Her face was no more than a foot from my erect shaft, and as I looked down I saw her staring intently at it. Once she stopped, pushed it flat against my stomach, then moved her face within three inches of the head, examining it closely. I could feel her warm breath on it, and I stiffened violently at the stimulation, but her fingers held me tight. She then lowered her head, pulled my testicle forward, and examined them closely. Straightening up, she resumed her pumping, , slowly.

Up...two...down...two...up...two...down...two...up...two...down...two...

On it went, always with a light touch, a steady beat that never wavered or changed. I began to desire to thrust again, but it was a futile hope: I was too tightly bound. In desperation, I began to tighten and loosen my leg and stomach muscles in time with her pumps, in a vain attempt to satisfy my overarching need to thrust. To my dismay, Dr. Wojcik respond by lightening her grip on my penis further, and slowing down the pumps.

Uuuuuuppppppp.. two... three... four... dddooowwwnnn... two... three... four... uuuuuupppppp... two... three... four... dddooowwwnnn... two... three... four...

I was at wits end. I could feel my penis head bulging near to bursting, now oozing with pre-ejaculate, yet the stimulation was perfectly controlled to keep me at the edge of orgasm without going over. My legs trembled, unable to provide me with the few hard thrusts required to finish it off. Slower and slower went the hand. I began to feel the pressure building, and I knew that I was soon to explode, thrusting or no thrusting. I suddenly groaned aloud, startling myself, then was unable to stop, moaning between intakes of breath. Now her pumps became much shorter, moving up to concentrate on only the top two inches of my shaft, fingers uncoiled, until they no longer encircled my penis, but simply applied a light rubbing on the underside. Still the pressure inside me grew. Dr. Wojcik removed her left hand from my scrotum, and, still rubbing with her right, moved her body to the side so that the space was clear directly in front of me. My penis now lay resting against her fingers, as they slowly slid up and down. On came the pressure inside me. I was seconds away.

A drop of clear pre-ejaculate oozed out, and hung down in a foot long strand that refused to break. As I looked down, Dr. Wojcik leaned forward , bringing her eyes to within a few inches of my shaft, then turned her head to look up at me. Her face was calm, but there was an unmistakable hint of a half-smile on her lips. Unconsciously or consciously, I don't know, she briefly licked her lips, and I saw her pink tongue emerge from those thick lips, just inches from my throbbing maleness. Her rubbing slowed to almost a standstill.

It was too much for me.

With a mighty final stiffenning, I felt a mighty wave of pressure building deep inside my testicles, then my shaft pumped out a dollop of creamy semen. It landed on the floor with an audible splat. I moaned helplessly, half in pleasure, half in frustration. Immediately, Dr. Wojcik ceased her rubbing, and removed her hand from contact with my penis altogether. She crouched over, hands resting on her legs, and intently observed my throbbing shaft from a distance of only a few inches. I couldfeelher eyes.

With no fingers to support the shaft, my penis flopped up and down, as it continued to disgorge its contents onto the floor in a thoroughly undignified manner. . But without further stimulation, and the inability to thrust myselfintosomething, my spasms soon ceased, and were replaced by a kind of oozing action that seemed to go on and on, yet was very unsatisfying. I felt half-completed. Once again, a long strand of semen hung down from my quivering shaft, swinging lightly back and forth like a pendulum. Dr. Wojcik continued to stare, taking in every spasm, every pump, every tremor of my manhood as it sought the complete release it was being so cruelly denied.

Finally, all movement seemed to cease. I remained locked in position, of course, penis still stabbing straight out, and Dr. Wojcik continued staring at it for several more minutes, until it began to droop downwards. Finally, she straightened up. Reaching forward, she extended her index finger, and lifted my drooping semi-hard penis to a horizontal position, looked at it some more, then let it drop. The semen strand swung crazily, and for a moment I thought it would hit her leg, before she turned and moved behind her desk.

Her face was full of concentration, and as she tapped the keyboard, I could hear the light scratchy sound of the hard disk operating. As she worked I became aware of what I must look like - a stud-horse, successfully milked of his sperm, humbly awaiting his mistress's permission to go back to his stall. The evidence of my artificially stoked lust hung still now, refusing to fall to the ground to join the rest of my sperm still lying uncleaned there. I felt completely used and humiliated. I had no dignity left at all. The thought of asking to be able to get down did not even occur to me. In fact, I was so spent that I could only rest there and think of how nice it would be to get home later on, watch TV, and go to bed. Although tightly tied, I was not unduly uncomfortable, and began to drift into a semi-conscious state, lulled by the gentle tapping of the keys. After a few minutes she came out from behind her desk. She took a tissue and cleaned up the long strand of sperm still dangling from my shrunken penis, then unstrapped me, and instructed me to get dressed and sit on the chair in the corner of the room. She did not clean up the floor. As soon as I was sitting in the chair, I began to feel very tired again, and soon nodded off to sleep.

I awoke with a start to the sound of a clackety old dot-matrix printer. Dr. Wojcik stood up, and walked over to me.

"You had a nice sleep, Mr. Douglas. About an hour or so. It is now time for the second test."

My brain was still groggy. The second test?

"Er, ah, do you mean...?"

"Yes, we must test the ejaculation response twice each session. We achieved outstanding results the first time. Very strong brainwave patterns. This may prove to be a very fruitful area of research. So lets get back to work. Back up on the platform, please."

Without waiting for my response, she walked purposefully behind the examination table, and began turning the winch handle, eventually retracting the seat pad fully. Wearily, I shed my clothes, no longer conscious of my nakedness, and clambered back up. As before, I was strapped into position, except that this time I had no recurrence of the prior embarrassing contact between my penis and her breasts.

Standing beside me, Dr.Wojcik lubricated her hands, and immediately set to work , left hand reaching around to work the scrotum and testicles, right hand gently spreading the cream all over my penis before commencing a light pumping action. The feel of her bare hands once again on my weary manhood once again had a predictable effect. As I hardened, I noticed that she had not yet tightened the seat pad behind me. I rested my bottom against it, so that I was not at all thrust forward, as before. I grew harder, and eventually could not help but involuntarily thrust my hips forward a little. Nothing. She just kept on her light, slow pumping. On and on, staring intently at my member. Fully erect now, I again felt an uncontrollable urge to thrust my hips, and again she allowed me to do so without tightening the seat pad.

Although I felt shy and embarrassed, my lust soon grew so out-of-control that I succumbed to the need for release, and began a regular thrusting action, humping her hand in increasingly powerful actions. I was mating her fingers! It was ridiculous, and humiliating, but completely unstoppable. The table began to shake and rattle from my animalistic exertions. I stabbed myself over and over into her waiting hand, the hand that was controlling my manhood, wanting to drive myself deeper and deeper, to show her what a man truly was. Yet in truth, it was she that was taking me, driving me, controlling my lust against my will, teasing me with her hand, like a rider taming a wild horse. She easily controlled every thrust, then coaxed another out of me.

As I looked down I could see the top of her breasts exposed. They jostled a little as her hands moved with my thrusts. Her left breast was only an inch or so to the front of my right thigh. I suddenly thought of how I'd love to savagely rip off her coat and bra, and grab that tit , squeezing and pulling hard before sucking on as much of it as I could stuff into my mouth. I could just imagine her struggling as I forced myself on her. The thought drove me wild. With a brazenness that surprised myself, on the next thrust forward I used what flexibility I had available to me and shifted my hips as far as I could to the right, driving my thigh tightly into her breast. I made contact! I went into a frenzy of super-quick thrusts, driving myself against her another two or three times before she was able to pull herself back.

She looked up at me crossly, frowning.

"Tsk tsk. Let's stay under control, Mr. Douglas."

I momentarily weakened in fatigue and frustration, and stopped my thrusting. She immediately began to gently twist the head of my penis, letting it slip through her fingers, back and forth, causing such a moan of desperate, unfulfilled lust to escape from my lips that I'm sure the entire building could hear it.

I started humping again, frantic for release. To my dismay, Dr. Wojcik began to move her hands with my thrusts, so that very little of my hip movement was translated into movement through that warm, soft hand. I thrust further now, each pump causing my bottom to bang furiously against the seat pad. The hand followed with me, forward and back, till I was not getting any movement within the hand at all. I was simply thrusting my hips back and forth while she held on to my penis. It was infuriating! I saw her yawn, then sigh noisily, before looking at the clock on the wall. She looked up at me with a sleepy smile.

"Still another half-hour till we're finished. We mustn't rush this kind of thing. I want to get as much data as possible."

A half hour? How was I supposed to manage another half hour of this incredibly frustrating teasing? I stopped, yet again her ministrations to the head of my penis forced my hips back into action. She grunted in approval. In desperation, I tried to fool her. After a thrust, I began to pull my hips back, when half-way I immediately reversed and thrust back forward. For one glorious second my shaft slidthrough that hand. It was wonderful. I needed only a few more of those and I'd get my final release.

But Dr. Wojcik was not to be fooled. She laughed cheerfully.

"Now that was clever. Naughty, but clever. But I can't allow you to spoil my test in that way."

And so began a prolonged game of cat and mouse, I trying in berserk desperation to screw that sweet, lovely hand that tormented me so, she riding my every thrust and half-thrust, sometimes allowing me a true pump or two, but most of the time just staying with me as I pumped. When I stopped she'd tease and coax me back into action. The sweat poured from me. That hand was all I wanted in the world. I'd never wanted to screw a woman like I wanted that hand at that moment! I was beyond hope. I was moaning constantly now. I found myself begging for release.

"Please, I've got to finish now! I can't stand this any longer."

Dr. Wojcik remained impassive.

"Oh, don't worry, I am quite fully in control of the situation. Please just leave those decisions to me."

"No, really. This is too much for me. Please let me ejaculate now."

Still no sign of mercy.

"In a few more minutes. We still have a way to go."

I resumed my moaning.

"NOW! I've got to finish NOW! Please!"

Then, in time with each thrust, I began to beg.

"Please, ...please...please...now...now...please..."

Dr. Wojcik didn't even look at me now, staring at my out-of-control penis as if in a trance.

"No no. A few more minutes. You're doing an excellent job. These results are beyond my expectations. Quite extraordinary. I hope you perform this well every time. By the way, we'll be focussing on this ejaculatory response for the next 4 months."

That was what pushed me over the top, the thought of submitting to this procedure twice a week for the next four months! Four months of teasing, tormenting, embarrassment and humiliation. Locked in this room with a madwoman! Her hands taking possession of my genitals as though they owned them, pushing me to the point where I lost all pretense of pride and self-control. Four months of being milked like a stud horse!

My every muscle stiffened, and my thrusting reached a new intensity. Dr. Wojcik seemed to sense that the moment was at hand, for suddenly she did the opposite of what I expected: she moved her hand against the direction of my thrusts! The transition was intoxicating! Within a few thrusts her hand was slamming back into my pubic bone, then nearly slipping off the head, before the next thrust arrived. I was finally stabbing myself into that wonderful hand. In only six or seven thrusts, I felt a huge pressure build up, then sent a large load of semen flying through the air as I ejaculated. Again and again, I thrust into that warm hand, releasing yet more semen, and Dr. Wojcik continued to gently milk me until I settled back in a satisfied stupor of exhaustion and spent lust.

I closed my eyes and gasped in huge quantities of air. I felt and heard Dr. Wojcik releasing all my restraints, then I wearily stepped down, and began dressing. Dr. Wojcik was already behind her desk, working on her computer. When I was fully clothed once again, I turned and cleared my throat, awaiting dismissal.

Dr. Wojcik didn't even look up.

"You may go."

My brain was blank as I stepped into the corridor, walked down the hall, and silently exited the office. What I had just undergone was beyond my wildest imaginings when I had agreed to participate in this study. I had another four months of this 'ejaculation response study' , then five more of who-knows-what else. Hanging on to my sanity for the next nine months was going to be difficult, I could see that. With a bitter resolve to stay the course, I slowly drove home.

To Be Continued...