Monday 30 March 2009

The Baron's Stable - Part 7

He knew he was shedding more than just his clothing.

Standing, he slipped his T-shirt off over his head and laid it on the chair. He felt the men's eyes on his body. He was proud of his physique, he worked hard to look the way he did. He wouldn't call himself muscular exactly, but what muscle he did have were toned and defined very nicely. His torso was smooth and sculpted in all the right places.

He took off his trainers and socks as the two men watched him. In the big hall the silence seemed oppressive. As he slipped off his jeans and slid them down his legs he saw the tent in his cotton shorts and felt a flush rise to his cheeks. How would they interpret his erection?

There was no question of hesitating under their serious gaze. He stepped out of his shorts and dropped them on top of the pile, standing straight as if to attention. As did his prick. It wasn't the biggest penis in the world, he knew, but he always felt that the rest of him made up for it.

Behind him, Steve was picking up Jonathan's clothes and packing them away in a cardboard box. Gavin nodded to him. “Thank you, Steve.” Once he had finished packing, Steve took the box and Jonathan's rucksack and left the hall. Jonathan frowned, turning to watch him go.

“Stand up straight.” Gavin said, a steely edge to his voice. Jonathan jumped, obeying, his hands at his sides. The big man inspected him, his brow furrowing. “Turn around.” Once again he obeyed, displaying his rear. He had been told it was his best feature. He knew it was far above average.

“Turn back.” The big man was looking straight into his eyes now. “You will obey all instructions given to you by myself, the doctor and any other staff employed by the Baron, unless those commands conflict with instructions given to you by the Baron himself. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Sir.”

Gavin consulted a clipboard. “Jonathan Hawthorne, twenty-three years old, from Knightsbridge, London. Actor. No health problems. You maintain a good level of fitness?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“OK, Jonathan, come here.” the doctor said, summoning him behind the desk. He weighed Jonathan on an old-fashioned set of scales and measured his height. “Five foot seven, one hundred and sixty-one pounds.”

A series of thorough medical examinations followed, after which Gavin put him through some strenuous exercises to test his fitness levels. It was nothing beyond his abilities, though he was glossy with sweat and breathing hard by the time he had finished.

“One final test, Jonathan,” the doctor said “get onto the bench here.”

He hopped up onto the leather bench and watched as the doctor attached a pair of metal arms to the end. Each arm reached upwards and ended in a stirrup cup. The doctor positioned Jonathan's feet in the stirrups and slipped on a pair of rubber gloves. He then inserted his finger for a rectal examination.

Jonathan had long since lost his erection thanks to the exercises Gavin had made him do, but as the doctor's lubricated fingertip found his prostate, it started to return. Noticing this, the doctor nodded with approval, but without smiling.

He took a large clear object from the trolley which Jonathan did not recognise at first. It looked liked like a shoe-horn made out of glass. It was a speculum. The doctor lubricated the contraption and inserted it into Jonathan's still moist hole. It was uncomfortable, Jonathan was not used to something that size and shape inside him. He gasped and bit his lip a little as it was pushed in.

The doctor widened the device, opening Jonathan's hole up for inspection. The pressure on his ring of muscle was considerable and Jonathan felt fresh sweat break out on his forehead. His breathing became heavy again as he tried to force his body to relax.

Pulling up a chair, the doctor sat down between Jonathan's legs and shone a pen light into the opened orifice. It didn't last very long, but he was glad when it was over and the thing was removed. He was ready to be removed from the stirrups, but it seemed the doctor had not finished. He took something else from the trolley.

It was a long, thin device that seemed to be made from plastic and metal, with bands running around it from one end to the other. One end was blunt, the other had wires extended from it. The doctor rubbed some lubricant over the whole length of it and inserted the blunt end into Jonathan.

“What is that thing?” he asked. He tried to hide the fear in his voice but failed.

“A very expensive and very specialised piece of equipment.” the doctor replied. Slowly but surely, he pushed until the contraption was fully inserted. It was about eight inches long, though not too thick, and Jonathan took it without too much difficulty, though his breathing quickened.

Gavin stood behind the doctor, his large arms folded across his chest, watching the proceedings with a serious look on his face. The doctor picked up a small box that was attached to the wires trailing from the exposed end of the device, and pressed a few buttons.

Jonathan gasped. The thing inside him started to grow thicker, somehow expanding. “OK, Jonathan, I want you to squeeze hard with your anal muscles. As hard as you can, for five seconds. Now.”

He did as he was told, while the doctor watched a tiny screen on the box. Gavin gazed down at the test subject, his face impassive, studying Jonathan's face and body as the doctor examined him internally.

Jonathan followed the doctor's instructions, gripping the device hard with his ass several times. His prick was fully hard now, the bulbous head bobbing against his flat groin. His chest glistened with fresh sweat as he worked. The doctor nodded. “It's a good reading, but it could be better. I will give you some exercises to do as part of your regime to tone your pelvic muscles.”

Again Jonathan relaxed, but still the examination was not over. The doctor made some adjustments to the box. Jonathan felt a warm tingling inside him. He gasped as the sensation intensified, becoming a pulse that throbbed inside him. He felt it deep inside him, and it seemed to spread slowly outwards through his lower body like hot liquid in his bloodstream.

His erection began to ache. It was almost painful and he desperately wanted to grab it and give himself relief, but Gavin was glaring down at him intently. The big man's eyes were forbidding. Jonathan moaned, unsure if he was feeling pain or pleasure. His heart was beating faster as if he were doing more press-ups. He couldn't help but breath faster, and felt himself become a little light-headed as he hyperventilated.

Waves of sensation began to wash over him, centred deep in his ass and throbbing in the root of his dick. He felt his legs tremble and his toes tingle. His hands gripped the edge of the bench, his muscles shaking. He felt his nipples harden. His vision became blurred.

His orgasm took him by surprise and his cry was like a mixture of pain and fear. The explosion of sensation filled his whole body and he shook as if he were having an epileptic seizure. He felt hot seed hitting his chest, neck and face and heard laughter.

Opening his eyes, he saw Gavin laughing down at him. He felt confused as the waves abated, like a shipwrecked sailor left high and dry by the receding tide. His head was spinning.

The thing inside him was returning to its original size. The doctor removed it carefully and turned away from the bench to tend to his equipment. Jonathan lay shaking, exhausted, feeling lost. Gavin chuckled, reaching down and ruffling his sweaty hair with a large strong hand. His voice had a little softness in it as he said “The showers are through there. Go get yourself cleaned up, lad. The Baron will see you in about ten minutes. Don't keep him waiting.”

Jonathan nodded and slowly disentangled his feet from the stirrups, carefully climbing down off the bench. On trembling legs he made his way towards the showers.



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