Doris

Arthur was unstrapped from the cross, his body a limp, quivering mass. He was half-carried, half-dragged back down the tunnels, his bare feet leaving damp prints on the cold concrete. He was taken not to his cell, but to the clinic, and strapped face down onto a leather-padded bench. The surface was cool against his feverish skin. A moment later, a soothing, antiseptic cream was being gently applied to the welts on his back. The touch was unexpectedly tender.

He flinched as a hand began to stroke his hair. He didn't need to look up. It was her. Dr. Jenny. his mind was too confused to remember pulling him by the hair; all he could remember was her kindness. She was his only ally. He tried to speak, to ask her why, but the gag made it impossible, turning his words into a pathetic, muffled whimper.

"Shhh, it's alright, Arthur," she cooed, her voice a balm to his frayed nerves. "The worst is over. We just needed to get your attention." Her hand continued its gentle stroking, a comforting rhythm against his scalp. Then, another hand slid between his legs from behind, softly cradling and stroking his balls. The touch was intimate, confusing. Dr. Jenny leaned close, her lips brushing against his ear.

"Think about Doris," she whispered, her breath warm. "Your beautiful wife. I saw her with that handsome man, Leo, I think his name is. She seems very taken with him. They looked so happy together."

As she spoke, something warm and slick found its way past his sphincter, a single, probing finger that made him gasp.

"I think they may be having dinner together right now," Jenny continued, her voice a hypnotic murmur. "Sharing good food and wine... laughing." The finger found his prostate and began to massage it in slow, deliberate circles. "Don't you want to be a better man for her, Arthur? You don't want her running off with Leo, do you?"

The conflicting sensations were overwhelming. The pain in his back, the gentle stroking of his hair, the intimate pressure inside him, the devastating image of his wife with another man. His body, starved of release, betrayed him. He started to leak, a steady trickle of fluid dripping from the tip of his caged cock.

Jenny noticed immediately. "See," she said, her voice filled with a gentle, triumphant sympathy. "The thought of Doris excites you so much." She scooped up some of the spillage on her finger and held it up for him to see. Then, she spread the viscous goo around his lips, which were forced open by the gag. The taste of his own shame was salty and humiliating. "We can help you be a better man for her, wouldn't you like that?"

Tears of shame and despair filled his eyes, blurring his vision. He felt something harder, larger, and colder press against his bottom. "Would you like us to help you keep your beautiful wife, Arthur? Would you like us to help you win her back before it's too late?"

The question was a lifeline in a sea of degradation. Win her back. The thought was all he had left. He nodded, a desperate, jerky motion. He gasped as something hard and long, lubricated and unyielding, was pushed slowly, insistently inside of him. It was a violation, a deep, burning stretch that stole his breath.

"There, there, Arthur," Jenny soothed, kissing his cheek as the strap-on cock began to move slowly in and out of him, a deep, rhythmic possession. "It will be fine. We're here to help." She continued her litany of comfort and poison, throwing in the odd compliment about how handsome Leo was, how charming, how even she found him exciting, so poor Doris would have no defense against his masculine wiles. Each thrust of the dildo was punctuated by a reminder of his inadequacy, each caress a reminder of what he stood to lose.

By the time Jenny had finished with him, Arthur felt sore, used, and completely physically drained. He was unstrapped and led back to his cell. She fed him some gruel with a spoon, like a sick child, and then held out a small, blue pill. He took it without hesitation, his eyes fixed on her, seeking the approval he now craved.

The lock clicked, and she was gone. Within five minutes, the Viagra she had given him kicked in. Blood rushed to his groin, and his cock began to swell, growing hard, thick, and painfully erect. But it had nowhere to go. The steel cage became a merciless prison, the bars digging into his flesh as his erection throbbed with a desperate, unfulfilled need. He was left alone in the dark, his body a battleground of pain and a maddening, inescapable arousal, his mind a playground for the woman who now controlled him.