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Nurse Jones: The List part 17
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
From: [email protected] (Michael Raymond Feely)
Subject: REPOST: The List 17
Date: 25 Nov 91 09:44:49 GMT
Lines: 111
Archive-Name: nj.list.17
Reply-To: [email protected]
>From Nurse Jones,
I'm lost. But now I know why. And it was ASBTherapy that helped.
For me, reading and writing ASB posts is therapy. Not just a
break from work, which I need desperately sometimes, but somehow
writing stuff down clarifies it for me so I can deal with it. And
hearing from you helps me to feel I'm not (a) weird, and (b)
alone down here. Jay and I are very close, but he's really the
only one I have since leaving Chicago. After a few weeks posting
I'm as close to the ASB regulars as I am to the people I work
with, and certainly more intimate than I have been with anyone
but Jay. How much I post seems to depend on how bad things are
going at work at the moment.
I've said before that I'm not constitutionally suited to
being a top. As I read back over an earlier post, I realize that
a motherly attitude toward the bottom is NOT one that translates
well into this role. But it's what I've got. I'm not sure Jay
got anything out of it. He says he did, but he was such a stoic
that he clearly didn't get what I did. I was so timid and afraid
of hurting him that I didn't really do my job.
Talk about a twisted relationship! I want to give up being a
top, but my bottom won't let me. I'm supposed to be running the
show, and I told him I was going to give him an order to top me,
and he wouldn't. I said
wait a minute, who's in charge here anyway?
You are he says.
So top me, says I.
Make me.
I'm not exactly a wilting violet, (more of a willing violet) but
I don't like being a top. (Well, I do, I think, actually, but if
I do it on my terms he won't enjoy it. It will seem like weak
vanilla topping to him. )
8)
I have plans, but I know I'll go all soft once I have him all
trussed up again. My attitude is that I have to do these things
to him but my main job is to help him get through it.
And he just seems to endure my timid fumblings as though he
were waiting for a bus. None of the writhing histrionics that I
went through. I don't know if I get through to him or not. He
_says_ I'm doing great. He _says_ he knows what is going on in my
mind and it turns him on. He says that when I put the gag in his
mouth (back in List 15, I think. Which I never finished writing,
BTW) he could see the changes of attitude on my face. I didn't
think I was that obvious. He said he could see the feeling of
empowerment. Something about the shape of my nostrils again. What
the hell is it about my nostrils? I have heard of people having
cruel mouths, but _nostrils_? And he said he could see it, and
feel it, when I turned all gooey compassionate, too.
So anyway, In case you forgot, I had been trying to totally
sexually deplete J. He had had two orgasms. I tried a number of
what I thought were sexy tricks to give him a third, but the best
I could manage was half-mast. He had had four in one day, before,
remember. Finally, I decided to take the plunge and I spread
eagled him, standing up, arms chained to those overhead eye
bolts. (I have the key to the little locks, now. Remember those?)
I put a vibrator in him. This was pure curiosity on my part. I
was as gentle as could be, used tons of KY jelly, and it still
took me a while to even find ... it. I watched his face, still
blindfolded, as I pushed it in. He endured. He's such a stoic. I
haven't gotten anywhere near a limit of his.
But his erection grew. I'm happy to report to the females in
this little group, that It Works. I mean, the prostate is really
there, and it really is an erogenous zone or something. When I
touched it, the reaction was immediate. He squirmed and his hips
kind of moved as though we were having sex. I don't know if that
was involuntary or not. I knew I had touched a very sensitive
spot, though.
So naturally I turned on the vibrator and pushed a little
more, still experimentally. Get this: he didn't have an erection,
to speak of, the poor thing was exhausted. BUT he had an orgasm
anyway. He ejaculated. Weakly, to be sure, and involuntarily. He
couldn't control his reaction.
This is valuable data. I know that during a rectal exam a
doctor will sometimes massage the prostate to get seminal fluid
for a lab test, but this was a forced orgasm. I made him have it.
I could do it again and make him have an orgasm exactly when I
want him to. On cue. Perfect timing. I still haven't figured out
a way to use this valuable information yet.
But I will.
Nurse Jones,
looking up an old friend.
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