nurse – Page 15 – Contemplating the divine

Taking responsibility

Mr Carter?

Oh – you prefer “Billie”? OK – hi Billie.

I don’t know if you remember me? I’m your anaesthetist.

Anaesthetist. Do you know what an anaesthetist is?

No? Well – do you remember before you went to sleep? You were on a trolley, and you went off to surgery? Big room… lots of medical equipment?

That’s right! I’m the one who talked to you just before you went to sleep!

‘The pretty one’? Oh, am I? That’s a nice thing to say!

Well, anyway, I just wanted to be the first to let you know, that there was a little bit of a problem, while you were asleep. I did a silly thing. I might have given you just a bit too much gas. And of the wrong sort. So –

No, not like the gas they put in balloons. Well, maybe a bit like that, but –

No, you’re not going to blow up like a balloon. These were gases that affect your brain.

Brain.

Yes, you do have a brain. Everyone has a brain. It’s where you do your thinking!

Are you? Thinking about me, and how pretty I am? What – right now? How sweet. But don’t touch yourself down there, Billie, OK? It’s not nice.

Anyway, you see, I gave you a bit too much of some of the gas. And it’s made your brain go a bit funny. You’re going to find thinking a bit harder from now on, that’s all.

Well, yes, I suppose it is still easy to think about how pretty I am. Aren’t you sweet?  But do you remember what we said about not touching yourself down there? Right.

Look, anyway, I’ve got a piece of paper here, you see? It says ‘waiver’ on the top?

No, it’s not for waving. It’s for signing. You see? There – where it says ‘William Carter’. That’s where you sign your name.

Yes, I know you can’t remember how to sign. But if you take the pen – no, other way round, that’s right – and then put the pointy end onto the paper, there might be some residual autonomic motor functions, that –

Well, never mind what all that means, Billie, just SIGN THE FUCKING DOCUMENT!

That’s good. Very good. Oh thank God for that.

Oh – don’t cry. I’m sorry I got cross, OK?

Let me just put this document somewhere very safe.

Listen, Billie, I think it’s probably best if you don’t go home on your own, OK?

Really? Oh. It’s worse than I thought. Yes, well if you can’t remember where it is, I suppose it’s even more important that you go and live somewhere else.

I was thinking… would you like to come and live with me? And my friend Julie. You could help clean up around the apartment, and maybe –

Is she as pretty as me? Well, I suppose she is. She’s quite a lot taller than me… and very strong. But she doesn’t like men very much, so perhaps at first you should be a bit careful around her.

Billie! What did we say about touching yourself down there? If you do that again, I’ll be really cross, and I’ll…um…

What’s that? Don’t mumble!

‘Smack your bottom’? Well, yes, I probably will smack your bottom. So don’t do it, OK?  Or I’ll smack your bottom. Really hard.

I think I’m going to get something to stop you touching it, unless I say so, all right? That’ll help a bit with Julie, too.

So – do you want to come and live with me and Julie? That’s great. In that case, you just need to sign another document –

– here –

oh clever you! You remembered to use the pointy end!

I think you’ll be very happy living with us. As long as you do everything you’re told, OK? Or else, I’ll have to –

– that’s right! Smack your bottom! And –

err…, no Julie probably won’t smack your bottom. Well, I dunno, she might. But she’d probably do something much worse. Really, you do not want to annoy Julie. OK? She can get very cross, and I think she might hurt you if she does.

And Julie might be annoyed at first about you coming to live with us. But I’ll talk to her about it, OK? It was my fault you got so much of the gas that stops you thinking, so I thought I should take responsibility. And if you stay in my apartment all the time, maybe no one will ask any questions about you either. I think Julie will understand.

Hmm?  Well, I’m not surprised you don’t understand. Not after that dose. It’s surprising you have any functioning brain cells left. (Sigh) Well, don’t worry. I’m going to be doing all your thinking for you from now, OK? You just have to do everything I say.

Right, come on then. I think we can just go right away – my car’s in the parking lot downstairs.

No, you don’t need any special clothes. Your gown’s fine.

Oh yes, don’t worry about that. I’ll say goodbye to the nurses for you, OK? Actually, it’s a bit of a secret you’re coming to live with me! Isn’t that exciting? Can you keep a secret? Great. Well, just don’t say anything to anyone on the way out, OK?

Then once you’re in my apartment, I’ll make sure you can’t accidentally wander off and get lost, OK?

I don’t know – some sort of leash, I expect.

Come on.

Welcome home, Billie

When the godesses wish to punish us, they answer our prayers.

True on so many levels.

I hope you had a good Christmas. I don’t know whether I did or not, as I wrote this post and ‘scheduled’ it weeks in advance.

In any case, the real Servitor was long ago laid off and the caption-writing outsourced to Bangladesh, where teams of underpaid workers assemble femdom-themed attempts at erotica and wit using cast-offs from other, more interesting, sites. Sad, but true – like everything else on this blog.

Don’t worry if you can’t fill it. Just ask one of the other men standing alongside you. I’m sure they won’t mind.

Boyfriends! The curse of the sissy sub’s life. Still, I suppose someone has to play the football.

It’s good that she’s not letting these petty irritations affect her work. No messing about, just getting on with it. That’s the way.

Ah, the majesty of the legal system.

“Servitor” is nice, I’ve often thought.

But when you are tied to your mother’s apron…

As I’d love to be…still, this blog talks about castration anyway. Quite a lot, actually.

Sometimes, they are even the same aspect of the same place.

That’s a relief. It would be a bit embarassing to have had to reply “a small cupboard” to any questions about where you spent your honeymoon. And you know her rule about always telling the truth.

Oh, OK. Maybe we’re not talking about castration today, after all. Maybe we’re not talking about anything.

I suspect ‘we’ will.

I hope so too.

Disciplined loving

She’s right, you know. If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear. And in any case, a man should fear his wife, I think, don’t you?

Actually, that’s a bit surprising. Because I seem to remember her saying with a giggle once that she’d heard one of her new freinds had a soundproofed rape room in his basement. Oh well… maybe that was someone else.

Think fast. The tip of the whip can move at over 100 mph.

This is Lady Victoria from Cruella (and from a long time ago

– thank you for the adolescent memories, Mr Rogue-Hagen and Ladies).

We all say things we regret, from time to time. It’s part of married life.

That’s a relief. Let’s hope she ticked the ‘anaesthetic’ option. She can be so forgetful.

Forensic examination

Ah, Mr Sandwick. How are you feeling?

Yes, well no bones were broken, fortunately.

It was a nasty crash, though. You had bruises all over.

Now – we’re going to need your help with something. The police need us to put together a full report on the injuries you sustained, so they can determine what happened in the crash. Obviously, your chin got that horrible gash as the dashboard crumpled upwards, and there are bruises around your shoulder, where you jarred against the seatbelt…

…but there’s some quite severe and sustained bruising on your buttocks that we’re trying to understand.

Any thoughts?

No, well I suppose you were losing consciousness at the time. Not really fair to expect you to remember! I just thought, maybe…

Only…it’s odd, because there are two quite distinct patterns of bruising, on your buttocks and upper thighs. The majority of the bruises – and we think these were sustained first – are consistent with some sort of heavy, but soft and flexible object repeatedly impacting your buttocks horizontally. Like – I don’t know. Maybe like a leather or a rubber belt. But probably heavier than a normal belt. Was there anything like that in your car that could have caused your injuries? Maybe a fan belt from the engine, next to the driver’s seat? I mean, it seems unlikely it could whip about repeatedly like that, but…

No? No, well that’s what the police said too. Very hard to understand.

And then there are some really nasty bruises from something long and straight and thin – six of them, almost perfectly evenly spaced across your buttocks, starting on the upper thighs and going up. Those look very sore. I expect you can still feel them when you sit down. Any thoughts how those might have happened? It was probably after the first lot of bruises. Oh – and we’re pretty sure your buttocks were probably stretched taut at the time of the impact. As if you were doubled up… or bent over.

No? Well, it is a mystery, isn’t it? We’ve been discussing it, here on the ward, and none of the doctors or nurses can make head or tail of it. Everyone’s fascinated. Quite the little medical mystery – just like a TV show!

Do try to remember, though, if you can. We’ve been wondering if you might – perhaps – have been doing something before you got in the car, that caused you to sustain these bruises? Some kind of activity that might have involved the kind of repeated impacts that I just described?

No? Can’t think of anything at all? Oh well.

Only the other car’s driver is disputing liability for all of the injuries, you see. So I expect you’ll be asked about it as a witness in the court case. In court. Under oath.

What’s that? Oh good lord, no, you can’t just drop charges now, I’m afraid Mr Sandwick. The insurance companies are involved, and they’ll want to make sure they’ve got to the truth.

Anyway, I need to take some photos. If you could just pop your pyjama trousers down? That’s right. And if you wouldn’t mind – it’s better if you stretch a bit, so it’s easy to see everything. So if you could stand here – that’s right – and then bend over with your bottom up in the air. That’s right. Don’t worry about the pyjama bottoms, down there around your ankles is fine.
Ooops! Silly me – I forgot the camera. You just wait in that position. I won’t be a moment. If anything jogs your memory about what might have happened, you will say, won’t you? Only it’s probably better now, than in court.

Bedside manner

Mr Isaacs? Oh hi –
I’m Suzie Brooks. I just wanted to come
and introduce myself, because I’m going to be your castration nurse this
afternoon.

Yes, well I just think it’s more friendly this way. You know – if the hands that are holding your
testicles don’t belong to a complete stranger!

No, that’s right, I’m certainly not a doctor. I’m a student nurse, actually! I’m being assessed on this afternoon’s
operation, so if you can – you know – say what a good job I did, that would
really help.

Oh god, no! You’re
not the first. I’ve done…oooh, let me see.
I think you’re the eleventh, actually.
I want to specialise in castrations, you see – I really love it. Hoping to get a transfer to the sissy ward.

Sorry – that’s just what we call it. You won’t say anything, will you? Thanks!

So, do you have any concerns about the operation?

Well, duh! I
mean apart from not wanting to have your balls cut off! Obviously!

I haven’t met a man who wanted it yet! I had this really angry guy last time –
serial rapist, apparently! Anyway, he
was straining at the bonds, and shrieking and yelling blue murder – what a business! Still, we got him done. One less rapist out there, eh?

Oh don’t worry, I know you’re not!
I read your file. Yes – it was
just sexual harassment in the office, wasn’t it? You told a sexist joke or something?

Well, OK. But she
thought it was sexist, obviously, and that’s what matters. Maybe
she over-reacted, I suppose. Some women
do. There’s always two sides to the
story, aren’t there? Still, better to
nip it in the bud now, just in case.

No – she’s not coming.
We invited her, of course. Most
complainants like to be there – they get to choose the exact moment when I
cut. It’s really annoying,
actually. I’m standing there holding the
balls in one hand, holding the handle of the elastrator in the other. And I have to wait until they say go… and
some of them take their time, I can tell you.
Slow countdowns, that kind of thing.
And that handle’s really highly sprung – basically I just have to loosen
my grip, and the two handles spring apart and the wire does the rest. Kind of like a cheese wire – you know?

Anyway, it’s a lot easier if the victim’s not there. I can just pop them off straight away. Nothing to it.

So…is there anything I can do to make you a bit more
comfortable? No, I’m afraid those have
to stay on. If we stretch the ball sack
like that for a few hours before, the cut’s a lot cleaner. Actually, the ward nurse will probably be
along in a moment to double the weight.
There’s only two hours to go, after all.

OK, then. Well, I’ll
be back in a couple of hours.

And… don’t forget what I said about the assessment, OK? I know it’s just a routine op, but…well, it’s
really important for me. Good firm grip,
straight into position with the elastrator in a nice smooth movement, not being put off by pleading, or by the
screaming when I cut – that’s the kind of thing they’re looking for, OK?

Great. Well here
comes the nurse with your extra weights.
See you later!

Worshipping graven images

Actually I don’t know if these images have been ‘graven’. To be completely honest, I don’t really know what ‘graven’ means. But occasionally I like to hearken back to the title of the blog with a religious reference.

And isn’t it amazing, if you go googling phrases relating to punishment and humiliation, looking for bdsm porn (as we do), how most of the vanilla sites you find are religious? Hmmm… something to be explored there, I’d suggest.

But not in this blog. On we go.

And you’ll do.

Well? Have you?

This is the divine Goddess Heather. Have I featured her image before, for you all to worship? Well yes, I think I might have done once or twice.

She shouted at me once, across the floor of a club, you know. Treasured memory…

Poor Simon. It must be very difficult for him. Almost as difficult as it’s going to be for you.

Actually, there are other ways to make the swelling go down. But amputation is easily the best. Don’t worry – they’ll fit you with a prosthetic replacement.

A lot of men don’t realise that when they’re married, they’re expected to discuss things a lot more. Such as discussing why they’re late home, discussing why the ironing wasn’t done to her satisfaction, discussing whether he can stand up or must remain on his knees for a bit longer – that kind of thing. It’s all about communication.

Boys will be toys

Yet more captioned images of female domination. What else were you expecting? Dancing kittens?

But don’t ask her to buy you any long trousers. You know she won’t.

She’s going to be applying some science.

It’s all right. She’ll take it nice and slowly.

This is the divine Mistress Vixen.

You’ve only yourself to blame. You gave her the job – remember? I can’t imagine why. She’s rubbish at cleaning.

It’s not as if Raoul would be taking your matrimonial rights. She’s not going to fuck you, whetever happens, she’s made that quite clear. So you’re not losing anything. Be reasonable, hmm?

Administrative oversight

Mr Hadley? Hi – I’m
Suzie Parker, from the legal department.

I’m very well, thank you.

Now, first of all I’d like to apologise once more for this
dreadful mix-up. We do everything
possible to avoid mistakes, but it’s a big hospital carrying out hundreds of
operations every day, and this sort of thing will happen from time to
time. We’ve had a preliminary
investigation, and it seems the medical staff weren’t at fault at all – it did
say penectomy on your admission papers.
It must have been some kind of typo at the admission stage. Nobody’s fault really, just one of those
unfortunate things.

The good news is that of course we want to offer you
compensation. This will be without any
admission of liability, and you’ll have to sign a form saying you
requested this operation voluntarily.

If you won’t sign?
Well then of course we’d contest any compensation claim in court. You’d have to prove it was our fault. Of course, you’d be completely within your
rights to do so if that’s what you want.
At the moment, there’s a bit of a backlog, so it might take a few
years. And we tend to appeal decisions
all the way up the legal system – just to discourage frivolous claims, you see. But still, if that’s what you –

Will you? Oh
good. I’m sure that’s the right
decision. So here’s the consent form…

…that’s right. And
then if you could write out that sentence by hand, before signing.

Mmmm… “Genitalia” with only one “t” actually. Oh I know – I always get that wrong too!

Lovely. And sign
there. And here. And separately there. Great.

Now, the compensation scheme we operate is a generous one,
but there is a sliding scale. It’s based
upon the loss caused, you see. It’s not
too complicated, but you have to fill in all this information,
then we’ll work out how much you’ve lost because of this silly mistake.

That’s right…age, you see, and whether you’re married.

That? Oh, well we
need to know the number of sexual partners in a year, because that affects the
assessment of the loss caused by the removal of your testicles. So the number of women – sorry, or men is
it? Right – the number of women you’ve
had sex with in the last three years. I
bit intrusive, I know, but you can see the point. I mean, we wouldn’t want to be paying a lot
of compensation to someone for the removal of his balls if he never used them,
would we?

Really? As many as
that? You do know we’ll be requiring
signed affidavits from each sexual partner, and –

– yes, of course you
can change it. Best to get these things
right from the start. OK, that looks a lot more reasonable.

Hmm?
Masturbation? What do you mean,
masturbation? Oh – oh I see. So, you’d be claiming that the loss of your
testicles has caused you harm because it makes you less likely to…yes, I
suppose I see. I’m not sure what our
policy is on that. I don’t think I can think of a similar claim before… I mean, in some ways
it’s a benefit, isn’t it? Not having
that silly little habit any more? I
mean, most men grow out of that when they’re teenagers, don’t they? Still, I’ll check for you, OK? You might get something.

Now for the penectomy, the sliding scale is based upon
size. So, if you could just indicate…
there. Yes. And the girth, too… you can just guess that one if you don’t
really know. Many men don’t.

Wow. That was a big
one, wasn’t it? What a shame you didn’t have any girlfriends!

Erm… you do realise, of course, that the hospital retains the,
um… material that was surgically removed, so they could make a scientific
estimate of the likely extent of the –

Yes, you can change that too. Easy to get confused. Gosh, that’s a lot less, isn’t it? Maybe you were confusing centimetres and
inches? Easily done.

Right, well of course our claims department will
be processing this, and you’ll receive notification of the exact sum due to you
in about two months time. But from the
look of it, my guess, is that you could be looking at…well, several hundred
pounds at least! Won’t that be nice!

Oh – and I forgot to mention the best news of all! Although of course we admit no liability, the hospital wants to offer you a 10% discount off the tonsilectomy you were actually supposed to have! And the same surgeon insists on carrying it out! No really. She says it’s the least she can do, after inconveniencing you so much in this way.

Too much mercy… often resulted in further crimes which were fatal to innocent victims who need not have been victims if justice had been put first and mercy second

A quote there from Agatha Christie. Sounds like my kind of lady!

On we go…

Amusingly, sometimes out there they lose all feeling because of the cold. No matter how many welts and bruises are inflicted – they don’t feel a thing! And it’s so funny then, when they’re brought back inside and warmed up.

Rather thoughtless of Karen, I must say. No wonder she’s on her fourth marriage already.

Plenty of time overnight to think about what you’re going to say about this in the morning. Sleep well.

I think a little extra tribute next time might be in order, mmm?

I once went on this date, with a girl who just kept on telling me how inadequate I was compared to ‘Karl’. It was awful – all, ‘Karl has a bigger cock’ and ‘Karl doesn’t have any problems getting hard’. Honestly, I don’t know who was the more embarassed; me or him.