In the Hands of Dr. Wojcik Part 2

In the coming weeks, I was subjected to the same procedure several more times, and although the other two Japanese ladies took turns wiping my face, I never again felt the same marvellous connection of spirits that I had had with Hiroko that first time. Dr. Wojcik somehow must have had a tinkling that something was going on between us, for, from that day on, she made Hiroko remain at the desk and monitor the computer activity during the procedure.

After the fourth session, as I was preparing to leave the room, Dr. Wojcik mentioned that the Japanese ladies were to return to Japan the next day. To my own utter shock, I felt a tremendous stab of pure sorrow flood my being. Reluctantly, I walked up to Midori, and offerred my hand. We shook, then I did the same to Keiko. Finally, I turned to Hiroko. Her eyes were downcast. I took her hand, shook it, then held it for a moment or two longer. In the pause, she finally raised here eyes and peered into my own. I sensed that there was sadness there, too.

"Good-bye, Hiroko."

Her pure eyes looked up at me.

"Good-bye, Douglas-san", she murmered quietly.

I held her hand for a moment longer, then, hearing Dr. Wojcik clearing her throat, glanced over to see her staring icily at the two of us. Reluctanly, I let the hand drop, then turned and slowly walked from the room.

Chapter 8

After the Japanese ladies had left, there was a two-week break. I felt overwhelmingly depressed. My marriage had by now dissolved completely, and we were in the final stages of divorce proceedings. Fortunately, my wife had taken up with a rich insurance executive, and was due to marry him shortly after the divorce was finalized. This reduced my support payments to a level that I could easily accomodate.

When I returned to Dr. Wojcik's office, she explained to me that we were going to repeat all the sessions from the start, twice each, and photograph and videotape them. After that, she said with a smile, our time together would be complete, my sentence would be served, and she would make a favorable report to the court. I would be discharged of all my responsibilities from the tax-avoidance case. Three video cameras were positioned around the room, with another one suspended from the ceiling in the centre. Dr. Wojcik could aim it by manipulating a joystick-type device. She moved the others about according to which particular study we were working on during each particular session. Four large television monitors were also mounted on the far wall near the door, and provided high-definition views of what each camera was recording at that particular moment. It was strange to watch myself from various views and angles. There was always at least one camera positioned directly on my face. She used a small camera to take still photographs repeatedly from all angles during the sessions.

And so it began all over again - sneezing, coughing, and all the rest, ending up with me back on the apparatus for the dual ejaculation sessions. Sensing that the end was near, I would have to say that I almost threw myself enthusiastically into the task at hand. Nothing botherered me now. The thought of freedom only a few short weeks away drove me on, and I was careful not to give Dr. Wojcik the slightest cause for complaint. The views from the televisions of what was being taped was certainly somewhat embarassing at times. During the ejaculation sessions, a camera was focussed on my face as usual, another on my penis from the front left side, another was behind and below me, looking up at my testicles, and the ceiling-mounted unit focussed on my entire body, as it bucked and thrashed about wildly. I didn't care, I was almost free.

Finally, the great day came, the day I had anticipated for two years! The last session! I practically leaped onto the apparatus, and eagerly submitted to my usual milking. Dr. Wojcik seemed distracted, and let me ejaculate both times unusually quickly. I dressed quickly afterwards, and awaited her final dismissal. We were finished at least a half hour earlier than usual, so I assumed she would just let me go early. However, not wishing to be presumptious, I sat silently in the chair, as she completed her final computer work.

The high-pitched tone of her telephone suddenly broke the silence. Her face lit up with expectation, as she picked it up.

"Hello, this is Dr. Wojcik speaking.....Yes. Yes....Certainly..... Oh, three months, I think. All the material is ready, so it shouldn't take me very long at all. ....Eighty-five? My goodness, that is extraordinary! Wonderful, wonderful, this is stunning news. Thank you very much. I will begin work next week. Good bye."

She stood up, a huge smile of joy on her face. Then she walked over to the other side of her desk, and half-sat on it.

"Well, Mr. Douglas, you and I are going to be famous apparantly. I have just been given a contract by Braithwaite Scholastic Publishing Company to produce educational textbooks and course materials based on our pioneering study together. All of our sessions will be reproduced in the materials, and will be part of the course materials for General Biology, Human Sexuality, and Introductory Neuroscience courses at over eighty-five universities! Imagine it! Thousands of freshmen students in universities, in medical and nursing schools, will see what we have done together!"

I sat in silence, stunned, joyful feeling completely dissipated. A dark feeling came over me, a churning in the gut that spoke of immense danger ahead, for a fearsome thought had entered my mind. I nervously cleared my throat, then hesitantly spoke.

"Er, um, I see. This is interesting. I assume though that my name will not be mentioned at all in these materials, will it?"

Dr. Wojcik looked at me blankly.

"No, Mr. Douglas there's no need to mention your name at all. You will just be 'the subject' as far as the texts are concerned."

I felt somewhat reasured. Still, another nagging thought worried me. Again, I voiced my concern.

"And, ah, I assume that none of the photographs or videotapes will show my face at all? I wouldn't want that, now would I?" I laughed nervously.

Dr. Wojcik stared at me for a moment, as though she were staring right through me, then, imperceptibly, the corners of her mouth raised up a ittle and her half-smile appeared. She continued to stare at me, as though trying to make up her mind about something. When she finally spoke there was a hard coldness to her voice.

"Mr. Douglas, your involuntary facial expressions are an integral part of this study, and must be included. There is no way to avoid that. Thank you for your participation in my work. That will be all now. You may go."

And with that she turned back to her desk. I felt a hot flash of anger welling up inside of me. My old impulsiveness got the better of me, and I jumped to my feet. My voice was rising.

"Wait just a minute, now. This is no good. No good at all. I can't accept this! My face, there for thousands of students to see, my private parts, aroused and then ejaculating for all to see! You expect me to allow myself to be exposed to the public in this way? How am I supposed to live with this shame? No way! You just can't do this. I won't allow it."

I was shaking with rage now. My day of liberation was turning into a day of further, permanent humiliation. I glared at Dr. Wojcik angrily. She glared back, standing defiantly in front of me now, hands on hips.

"Mr. Douglas, you have no rights in this matter. As part of your sentence you signed over all rights to this research to me and my institute. Science is more important than your embarassment on this issue. This matter is closed. You have been dismissed. Now go!"

I stood still. I was not leaving.

"You mean, you insist of showing my face in these materials? Insist on ruining my life? Do you know how long it will take for everyone to know that it is me? Why, there must be half a dozen kids on my street alone going to University this fall. I have a niece going to State University next year. How many of them will see these materials and recognize me? And how many the year after that? And the year after that? How am I supposed to live normally after this? Have you thought of that?"

She was silent, then spoke slowly with a cold disdain in her voice.

"You don't seem to understand, Mr. Douglas. I care nothing for you, nor for your reputation. You are just a body to me, just cells and bone, muscle and nerves. Your reputation is your problem, not mine. Now, go away before I call the police!"

I stood there, immobile, unbelieving. I hated this woman now, hated her with every fibre of my being. She was ruining my life and she didn't give a shit! She thinks I'm nothing.

And without thinking, out of pure hateful impulse, I leapt towards her, hand reaching for her throat. I squeezed it tight with both hands.Her eyes bugged out with fear, and her hands began clawing at me, scraping my arms, scratching them, trying in vain to dislodge my hands from their vise-like grip. I wasn't squeezing to kill her, just to shake some sense into her. But her struggling and the pain of her scratches infuriated me all the more. I pushed her over backwards onto the desk, and shook her head back and forth violently. She screamed, and I removed one hand and quickly covered her mouth.

"You bitch! You fucking bitch! How dare you try to ruin my life! You stop that study or I'll tear your head off here and now! Do you understand me? I've taken your shit long enough!"

She released her hand from my arms, in a submissive gesture, letting them fall limply onto the desk. I saw fear in her eyes, the fear of a cornered rat. I felt her lips move under my hand, but no sound came out. Sensing her capitulation, I loosened my grip a litlle. She gasped for air, tears flowing down her cheeks, and I relented further, removing my hand from her mouth. Finally, she stammerred out:

"All right."

I released her neck, and slumped back to my chair. Her head hung down, and she leaned over her desk, breathing still heavy, until she managed to compose herself a little. I sat still in the chair, breathing heavily myself, and watched her warily. She finally stammerred to her feet, sat down behind her desk, and grabbed her purse. Rummaging through it, she finaly brought out a tissue and a lipstick Dabbing her face, she quietly walked over to me. I thought she wanted to talk. She dropped the tissue on the floor and removed the cap of the lipstick. The last thought which entered my mind was how strange the lipstick appeared, when WHAM!, it hit me.

Pepper spray. A full blast of it, directly in my face.A searing blast of blinding pain filled my nose and eyes, then my lungs as I breathed it in. I staggerred to my feet, withing in torment, with my only thought being the end of this pain that hat overtaken my world. Half-blinded, coughing and choking, I turned and ripped open the door, then stumbled in a fiery haze through the hallway. I didn't even know where I was going. Through the empty waiting room, out the door, then down the stairs I flew, then out the foyer until I was outside. Somehow, my foggy brain remembered the water fountain at the front of the building. I turned and charged towards it, then fell into it headfirst, feeling the cooling cleansing water washing away the burning spray, eyes washing out again and again. I remained that way for several minutes, until the pain subsided. My nose was running and my throat and lungs burned, but I was OK. I looked up and saw the occupants of a car waiting at the stoplight in front of me eyeng me curiously, but then the light changed and off they went. I sat there for another five minutes before I wearily clambered out.

I fished in my trouser pockets, and found my car keys. Getting in, I sat for a few minutes, thinking. All rage was gone now, replaced by a fear of what I had done. What of Dr. Wojcik? What would happen now? Would the police come for me? I had no idea. But I knew that I had really gone too far this time. I slowly drove home, half-expecting to be pulled over by a cop at any moment. I arrived at the apartment, grabbed two beers from the fridge, and threw myself onto the couch. I drank the first quickly, and awaited the arrival of the police. After a half hour, I heated up some macaroni and drank another beer. Then I flipped on the TV. Wearily, I lay back, and despite my fears, fell into a troubled sleeep. Several times, I awoke, and with a start, remembered what had happenned, before slowly drifting back to sleep.

I awoke suddenly to the sound of the telephone. I looked about me groggily. It was 11:45. Another ring, then another. This was it, I thought. Still, no point in avoiding it. I reached behind me to the corner table, and picked up the phone. I took a deep breath, then placed it to my ear.

"Hello?" I croaked nervously.

There was a long pause on the other end, but I knew someone was there because I could hear the breathing. Finally, a too-familiar voice spoke.

"Hello, Mr. Douglas. This is Dr. Wojcik speaking. I think we need to talk."

To Be Continued...