Reformation SeXStoRY

Author unknown. Sue barged her way out of the stock-room, a sob barely stifled as she reached the freedom of the corridor in the office building. That bastard Brian! How could she have been so stupid as to have let herself be trapped in that stock-room with that awful predator and his groping hands. Although the other girls had warned her, so very clearly, she had paid them little heed, confident in her ability to deal with any idiot. In truth she had, at least initially, been wary of making a fuss - she needed this job and needed it badly. A run-in with one of the supervisors wasn’t the sort of introduction she needed in her first week at her new post. Sue reached her own work-space and sat down, head in her hands, breathing heavily. Had anyone noticed? Had anyone seen what had happened? Sue became aware of someone standing in the entrance to her little office. Brian? - oh please, please not. Thank goodness, it wasn’t Brian, it was two of her work-mates, looking at her in alarm and concern. The two, Mary and Ellen, took in the scene, glanced at each other and drew their own conclusions. They had both been victims of Brian’s unwelcome advances in the past, and it was they who had warned Sue of being trapped alone with the fool. “This has to stop,” said Ellen, “he makes a grab at every new girl, and it is simply intolerable. We shouldn’t have to go about this place in fear and trembling of a man like him.” Sue welcomed their sympathy, and was pleased that she hadn’t been given a lecture, nor an “I told you so” speech. Yes, she had been warned and yes, she had been foolish and careless. No lasting harm was done, and the sordid groping probably wouldn’t even bruise. She was safe now and she wouldn’t make the same mistake again. However, Ellen seemed determined to push the matter. “He needs to be taught a lesson. We have tried reporting him, but it seems that his father and the chairman are close, and nothing seems to get done, no effective action seems to be taken. We need to get him alone, all of us, in the car park or somewhere similar, and give him the thrashing he needs.” “No, we simply cannot consider that,” said Sue. “Sure, he needs it, and I would love to inflict on him some of the misery that he inflicts on us. But I don’t need a charge of assault to contend with, and I certainly don’t need to be fired from this job right now. Both events would surely happen if we take the law into our own hands.” “Well something has to be done, and soon,” said Mary. “We have lost two or three talented members of our team through his pawing approaches. Whether he is well connected or not, surely the firm will stand by us if we raise a formal complaint?” “No they won’t.” said Ellen. “We’ve tried that before. And when he gets off with a slap on the wrist it seems to make him bolder and more reckless than ever. We must think of something more effective, other than trying to beat his brains out.” “I have an idea that we might like to think about,” said Gia, a tiny Asian computer specialist who had joined the group in Sue’s office. “It will all depend on what plans our dear Brian has in the near future. Does anyone know where he keeps his diary?” ----- Brian Williams was not having a very good Friday at all. The morning had seemed to be going well at first. Ellen, the receptionist, had come into work looking truly glamorous, with a short skirt, and some rather daring high boots, that combined to set off her terrific legs to perfection. Brian was, not for the first time, entranced. He felt sure that he would appeal to her, if only she would allow him to get to know her, to show her what a fine, romantic and sexy fellow he really was. He watched her quietly for the first part of the morning, and then followed her out into the small rest area when she took a mid-morning break. He was in luck - they were alone. He sidled up to her, and put his arm round her waist, giving her what, to him, was a friendly hug. But Ellen was having none of it. She shrugged him away, and when he persisted, she produced a wicked pair of scissors that she had been carrying, unknown to him. “Keep your bl**dy hands to yourself!” came the clear and obvious warning. Brian was not foolish enough to press his case further with an enraged woman wielding a pair of scissors! He stepped back away from her and took himself off to lunch, murmuring unpleasant comments about a frigid bitch under his breath. To make things worse, after lunch Ellen went home, pleading a headache. Mary followed - the stupid females were trying it on, trying for a cheap revenge. He would soon teach them not to shirk. When Brian reached his own office he found, on his desk a message from his dentist. He had a dreaded appointment this afternoon, and now that, too, seemed to be going all wrong. The note, in Sue’s neat script, said that the dentist’s rooms were closed for some urgent electrical repairs. But the dentist had told Sue that he had made a plan to treat his special patients in a room at a clinic across town. To off-set the undoubted inconvenience, the dentist was planning to send a car for Brian later that day. The thought of being thought important enough to be taken to the rooms by a hired car mollified Brian. Nonetheless he was still dreading the appointment. Sure enough, at 4.00, the front desk called through to say that a driver was waiting for Brian downstairs. Brian tidied up his office, and went down to the reception area. He expected to see a chauffeur, and was surprised and pleased when the driver turned out to be a pretty young girl of Asian descent, dressed in a smart, if rather tight, black uniform. Brian looked at her, feeling that he knew her from somewhere, although that seemed hardly likely. He realised that the young girl had similar features to one of his staff members, Gia - perhaps she was a relation? Barely able to avert his gaze, Brian stepped out to the waiting car, and slid into the back seat past the door held courteously open for him. The inside of the car was cool, the windows darkened, and it all felt very luxurious. The chauffeuse kept Brian in a light, and somewhat flirtatious, conversation as they drifted through the city streets. Brian was totally distracted, and paid scant attention to his whereabouts. Eventually the car swung off the road and up a short drive, to a small clinic that was well isolated from its neighbours. “Very fancy,” said Brian, as he emerged from the car. “I didn’t know this place existed at all.” “Not many people know of it,” said the young lady. “It is only used for special clients of the various dentists in this town. Come in, let me show you around. I should have introduced myself first - my name is Mia. Not only am I your driver this afternoon, I will also be your dentist’s chair-side assistant! We have to be versatile in this practice,” Mia added with a smile. Mia led the way into a the clinic, and opened the door to a small, modern theatre, with the dreaded dentist’s chair installed in centre spot. “Come right in, Mr. Williams” said Mia brightly. “You might as well wait right here. Mr Evans will not be long, I am sure. Brian entered the room, eyeing the chair with expected misgivings. Then his attention was drawn to what stood behind the chair. There stood a large trolley, with brightly painted cylinders and some glass containers with liquid in them. The top of the unit was covered in rubber hoses, and a variety of face-masks were hanging on prepared hooks on the side of the trolley. Mia saw what had captured Brian’s attention. “Take no notice of that, Mr. Williams,” said Mia. “That is years old, and is only used when some of our older patients particularly request gas for an extraction. You are only having a filling or two, so you will not be needing an anaesthetic, I am sure.” “Thank goodness for that,” said Brian with a nervous laugh. “I had gas when I was a young boy, and I recall it as a truly horrid and suffocating experience, with an intimidating matron type clamping the mask on my face and forcing me to sl**p - it was awful.” “That must have been a truly insensitive woman,” said Mia with some concern. “There is no reason at all why having gas should not be a harmless, even pleasant experience. In fact I have been told by several patients that they find the experience arousing, even erotic. Look, it is quite simple, really.” Mia walked over to the machine showed Brian the controls. “This tap opens the oxygen, and that one controls the Nitrous Oxide. The glass jars hold more potent, liquid, anaesthetics which are rarely used nowadays. This black re-breathing bag fills with the gas mixture, and you breathe it through this mask, of course.” As she said that, Mia picked up a black mask and pushed it on to the end of a long corrugated hose. She turned on one of the taps and Brian heard the hiss of escaping gas. “Just oxygen,” said Mia, as the black re-breathing bag inflated with the gas inflow. She held the mask to her face and took a deep breath. And another. She stood there for a minute or so, taking deep breaths, whilst the soft black bag filled and emptied with each inspiration. Brian watched, mesmerised. “See, there’s nothing to it at all, certainly nothing to be frightened of.” She held the mask out to Brian and said “Why don’t you have a try?” Brian was intrigued and curious. Why not? Scarcely believing what he was doing, he took the mask and held it gingerly to his face. The rubber smelt strongly, and he felt the flow of the cool gas on his face. He took a few tentative breaths. “See, that wasn’t unpleasant, was it?” said Mia, taking the mask back from Brian, and turning off the gas, and replacing the mask and hose on the hook of the trolley. “Now you wait here for a few minutes whilst I pop next door and get changed. I won’t be long.” Brian was left alone, as Mia slipped through a doorway. He looked back at the anaesthesia machine, fascinated by what he saw and by what Mia had said about the erotic experience that some people had reported. He picked up the rubber hose, took the mask off its hook, and held it to his face. The soft rubber cushion fitted neatly against his face. He tried to draw a breath, but the re-breathing bag was flat and empty and he could not inhale - the seal of the rubber cushion against his face was perfect. Brian looked at the controls, and reached out to the valve that he had seen Mia open. He turned it slightly and the hissing began. The bag inflated and Brian was able to draw in easy breaths of oxygen. He stood there for a minute or two, taking slow deep breaths. “Well, this isn’t so bad after all,” he thought. He looked up - no sign of Mia at the open door through which she had left the room. Dare he? His hand reached out again and he slowly opened the tap on the other side of the trolley, to let in some Nitrous Oxide. Immediately he felt an increased flow of gas, and detected a sweet, but not unpleasant smell in the mask, as he took a few deep breaths. The sweet smell was there, to be sure, but nothing else, no effect on him at all, and certainly he felt no excitement. Maybe this erotic thing was just a story to distract patients. He saw that the Nitrous flow was showing 20%. Perhaps it should be stronger? He looked back once more at the door through which Mia had left - still no sign of the young girl. Brian reached out again and opened the Nitrous tap further, until it showed 50%. The sweet smell was now stronger, and he breathed in deeply. He had taken several deep breaths when he suddenly realised that Mia had come back into the room, and was standing in front of him, dressed in her white uniform. A gauze mask lay round her neck, ready to be pulled up into use. Mia was also wearing a soft gauze cap over her hair, and as she walked towards him she was pulling on a long pair of latex gloves, which completed a very sexy picture indeed. Brian felt himself suddenly aroused. Was it Mia or the gas that was having that effect? “Hey, steady on, Mr Williams” said Mia, “that stuff is not to be played with.” However Brian could see that she was laughing as she said it. Obediently, but reluctantly, Brian pulled the mask away from his face, and as he did so he felt his world swim a little. Mia took the mask away from Brian and made as if to turn the gas off and put the equipment away. “Hold on a moment,let me just have one more try, please” said Brian, on sudden impulse. “I was just starting to get the strangest effect.” “OK, but quickly then,” said Mia, “or Mr. Evans will come in and he won’t be pleased with me at all. And we must not have the mixture too strong else you might go right under, and that would not be too clever. Come here and sit back in the chair, just in case you get a little giddy.” Brian sat in the chair. Mia adjusted the machine, out of Brian’s view. “There, I have turned the mixture down to 40%. You should get a little sensation from that. You can have ten really deep breaths, and then we must put this all away before we are both in trouble.” She passed the mask back to Brian - it was now hissing strongly, the black bag a full, round football. Mia helped Brian position the mask correctly over Brian’s mouth and nose, her gloved hands helping him. Together they held it tightly against Brian’s face and he started to breathe deeply. “That’s one good breath, Mr Williams,” he heard Mia say. “keep going, that’s it ……two……three……four….…, that’s fine, now really deep ones, please……..” Brian inhaled as deeply as he could. The gas smelt as sweet as it had before, perhaps even sweeter. He took more deep breaths, and a very pleasant feeling of detachment and calm settled over him. He watched the black bag grow and then flatten, as he took each deep breath. This was extraordinary, and then, with the next breath the calmness was replaced by an odd feeling of exhilaration. This was really enjoyable, something special indeed! But at the back of his mind he felt he ought to stop soon - this stuff was certainly strong, even at 40%. Strange flashes were happening in front of his eyes, and the noise of the hissing gas was growing ever louder in his ears. “Seven……..eight………” he heard Mia call out, her voice, too, surprisingly loud. “Two more really good breaths now……” Brian was suddenly uneasy, his senses whirling, and he started to feel that he was losing control. It was time to stop, he felt he had had enough. He went to pull the mask way from his face, but he was startled to find that Mia had kept her hands over his to help him hold the mask to his face, her gloved hands still covering his. More than a little alarmed, he tried again to pull his face back from the soft rubber. But he could not move his head or the mask - in fact Mia, sitting behind him, was pulling it even more firmly into his face, pinning his head back against the chair. He tried to call out to say he wanted to stop, but only a soft grunt escaped the mask. “……..nine…….ten……. eleven…….twelve…...” he heard the compelling count continue, with Mia’s voice echoing strangely, her mouth close to his ear. Wait, weren’t they supposed to stop at ten? Brian felt a sharp frisson of real fear penetrate the swirling clouds of his mind. It was far too late. Brian tried to shake his head once more, to free his face from the black rubber that was pressed so tightly over his nose and mouth. But by now his confused efforts were little more than wriggles, and the mask was easily held in place. Mia moved round in front of him, still pressing the soft rubber firmly over Brian’s face, still pinning his head back hard against the padded head-rest of the chair. Her face seemed to grow as she peered straight into Brian’s eyes, from just a few inches away. He thought he saw her eyes crinkle - she was smiling, starting to laugh! He had been tricked, somehow, but for what purpose? That was Brian’s last coherent thought as he took another deep, unwilling, breath of the gas - “…..thirteen……..and yes, you’re going under…….” he heard Mia’s triumphant, echoing voice vaguely. Brian stopped any feeble attempt to struggle and he slumped back and at last relaxed, as a gentle darkness seemed to engulf him. Mia’s face blurred and spun in front of him, as he felt himself slipping down, down, down, tumbling and falling to land on a soft, soft mattress - and then nothing but blackness and the fading hiss of the gas. Mia, too, relaxed at last, as she saw Brian fall unconscious. A small shudder escaped her, as the tension was released. That had been an interesting battle, mainly on psychological level, leading, manipulating, tempting and teasing Brian to be a willing, if unknowing, victim to her ploy. She had sketched out a number of scenarios in her head, ready to adjust her approach depending on how the man had reacted. But he had been absolutely perfect and so very predictable. The deep breaths that she had persuaded him to take were the secret - he was almost under before he had time to realise what was going on, well on the way before he even began to think of struggling. Nonetheless it had not been without real physical effort, holding the man still for those last few vital seconds whilst she put him right under. She turned the gas back from the 75% setting that she had used. A level of 50% would now keep him safe, though sufficiently subdued, for some time, whilst the scene was set for the next act in this little drama. Mia pulled Brian’s head up from the padded rest, whilst she spread a four-tailed harness on the rest itself. Then she lowered Brian’s head back on to the prepared harness, and took each tail in turn and fastened it to the chrome lugs on the mask, pulling each section of stretchy rubber as tight as she could. She tested the mask, and was quite satisfied that she had a good seal, and that it would remain firmly in place whilst she busied herself elsewhere. “He’s ready, girls,” she called out as she stood back from her handiwork. A door opened, and Sue and Ellen and Mary came into the room, each dressed in a smart white nurse’s outfit, similar to that worn by Mia. Sue looked at the form of Brian, spread back in the chair, breathing slowly and steadily into the mask. She saw him stir slightly and groan. “Are you sure he is right out?” said Sue, nervously, “I would hate to have to fight him.” “He is quite safe, I promise, my dear,” said Mia. As she said that she pinched Brian hard on the lobe of his ear, twisting it as she did so. Another groan came from behind the mask. Brian’s eyes opened partially, but they were unfocused, and even as they watched, they closed again as the man drifted back into a shallow sl**p. “See - at 50% he is just on the edge, sl**py, confused and harmless. And I can put him right under again, in one or two breaths of a stronger mixture, if need be. Now help me get him ready.” The girls moved round the sl**ping man. Ellen loosened Brian’s tie, and pulled it off, and she then unbuttoned his shirt. Mary took Brian’s shoes and socks off and started to pull on his trousers, struggling to free them from the recumbent form. “Bum up, Brian,” shouted Mia into her patient’s ear, and they all laughed out loud as a sl**py, d**gged, Brian obediently raised his hips, so that Mary could pull his trousers and underpants off. Soon Brian was naked in the chair. Ellen wheeled forward a set of gynaecological stirrups, and positioned them at the foot of the chair. It was the work of a moment to put each of Brian’s calves into place. However, adding a pair of leather straps to the stirrups was not normal practice! The straps were pulled and made fast and Brian’s legs were totally secure. Once Brian’s shirt was out of the way, Sue used another pair of leather straps to secure the man’s forearms to the padded arms of the dentist’s chair. Ellen took a thick padded collar and placed it under their victim’s chin, forcing his head up, so that he was looking up at the ceiling. She took the straps from the collar and fastened them behind the head-rest of the dental chair, pinning his head against the rest itself, such that he would not be able to move his head more than a tiny amount. A waist strap cinched quite tightly completed the binding - Brian would be not be going anywhere in a hurry. Mia quickly checked the work of her friends, before reaching forward and turning off the gas, unclipping and releasing the mask as she did so. The rubber mask fell away, leaving a red mark on Brian’s face where the tight rubber had made its perfect seal. “How long will he be out?” asked Sue, looking down at the naked oaf who had caused her so much anguish. “He is hardly even asl**p,” said Mia, “look, he is stirring already.” Brian regained consciousness quite rapidly once the mask was removed. His first thoughts were puzzlement, as his eyes brought into focus the bright lights of an operating theatre, and a circle of girls’ faces looking down at him. He shook his head, trying to clear away the clouds of cotton wool. He licked his lips, trying to make words, trying to ask a question that would make sense of what he could see. Ellen? Sue? Mary? What the hell was going on? The girls saved him the question. “Hello Brian,” said Sue, “how are you feeling? A bit groggy perhaps? Sorry about that, but we need you awake for a while, because we need to explain to you what we are going to do, and why. You have been a pest in our office for many months, and you have persisted despite our pleas, and in the full knowledge that we hated and rejected your advances. We have decided that you cannot help yourself, that no appeals to you will make any difference. So we have decided, with deep regret, that we must take a final and irreversible move to end this torment, which must be as troubling for you as it is for us.” “What on earth do you mean?” said Brian, as some possible implications of Sue’s words made him pay immediate and very full attention. “Let me go you stupid bitches, else it will be the worse for all of you.” “Now, now, Brian. No foul language and no threats! This will be for your own good. It won’t hurt, or at least not too much. I promise that when we castrate you, we will be civilised and put you right out.” “Castrate! You’re mad! All of you! Help!” Brian started to shout and thrash about in his terror. But Mia was ready - after all, a reaction such as this was not that hard to predict. “His jaws, Mary,” she called out, “just as I showed you, and quickly, please.” Mary moved behind the chair, and placed each gloved hand round the back of Brian’s neck, feeling with her thumbs until each thumb lay in the pocket the jaw hinge. Once she was satisfied, she squeezed inwards with all her strength. Brian’s mouth flew open as he tried to release the sudden, agonising pain that shot through his jaw. But Mary kept up the pressure, leave Brian with his mouth wide, open, gasping in agony. He was still making awful, if unintelligible, sounds. But not for much longer! Mia pushed a thin tube from an aerosol into the back of Brian’s mouth, pressed the release knob and a squirt of liquid went deep inside the yelling man’s throat. Brian coughed and tried to cry out. But his throat seemed to have closed, and he felt an awful choking, and his jaw still screamed in pain at the abuse, even though Mary had released her hands. The pain - the choking - he panicked - he was dying! “Relax, Brian,” said Mia, “and you will find that you can breathe easily - I have simply anaesthetised your vocal chords with a topical anaesthetic. It isn’t that pleasant, I know. The effect will not last long, although you may have a sore throat for a day or two. But that might be the least of your worries,” she added with a laugh. Brian tried to cry out, but hardly any sound escaped his lips. His tongue felt like a thick sausage. He felt saliva gathering in his throat, and he swallowed with great difficulty. Communicating was impossible. His eyes darted from girl to girl, trying to find some empathy, someone who would relent and stop this mad plan. Mia pulled her mask up, to cover her mouth and nose. The other three girls did likewise. In different circumstances, the sight of four masked young ladies, peering down at him, might have been arousing in the extreme. As it was, the sight only added to his terror. Mia snapped the cuffs of her latex gloves, ensuring a snug fit at her wrists. “Well, let’s get started shall we?” She asked her assistants. “Wait, I want to change this,” said Mary. Brian jumped at her words. At last some hope, some sense! She was not as crazy as the rest of them. Salvation might be at hand. Mary continued “I want to do the operation without any anaesthetic at all. He is well strapped down and I am sure we can cut them off without too much trouble. Why should we gas him and spare him pain - he never spared us at all, despite our pleas.” Oh my God. She was even more insane than the others. This was getting worse and worse. “No, Mary my friend.” Mia was being cautious and considerate. “We well have to gas him when we cut, else the shock might well kill him. He will experience pain enough when he awakes anyway, but we must have him right under for the operation itself. However, you can shave him ready for surgery whilst he is awake if you like. That might be fun.” “Fine, I will enjoy that” said Mary, “now let’s get cracking.” She busied herself out of the line of Brian’s limited vision, and he heard her mixing up some solution, presumably a shaving mixture of some kind. Mary’s hand appeared in front of Brian’s eyes, holding a cut-throat razor. “Now keep very still, my dear,” said Mary with mock concern, “else you are going to lose something very valuable to you, at least an hour earlier than we plan!” Brian felt Mary’s rubber gloves grasp his penis and then he hissed in shock as he felt the cold of the shaving cream being applied. He felt Mary’s hands, probing, rubbing and moving him around. The woman was teasing, running her gloved, soapy hand up and down Brian’s flaccid shaft, trying to coax some life into the member. Brian found himself reacting, despite his terrifying situation. He felt his penis grow hard and Mary stroked it faster and faster. “Do you want one last thrill before we cut it all off?” asked Mary, with a mischievous grin. Her words sent a chilling spasm through Brian, bringing him sharply back to earth and his sickening predicament; his member collapsed as quickly as it had been aroused. Mary laughed out loud. “Oh well, perhaps not then darling.” Mary started work in earnest. He felt, but could not see, the razor begin long strokes, cutting away his pubic hair. Occasional nicks, perhaps accidental, perhaps not, sent pain racing through his body. Despite the pain, and with a supreme effort at self-control, he kept rigidly still. The cost of any movement was likely to be far too high. “There, all done, my lad,” said Mary, putting away her razor. “Now it is time for the main event. Which of us is going to have the honour of the unkindest cut of all?” “Well you shaved him,” said Sue, “so I want to be the one to cut his balls off - that’s only fair.” “What about me?” said Ellen. “I want a piece of the action as well, you know.” “You can be my anaesthetist, my dear. You put him under, I will show you how,” said Mia. “Remember that, as you gas him, your face can be the last sight he has before he falls asl**p, before he loses that which is most precious to him.” “OK. I’ll settle for that,” said Ellen, “it should be interesting and unusual.”. Brian listened to the cold-bl**ded conversation in total horror. How he wished he had been more considerate, less of a boor, more respectful. How he wished he could turn the clock back. The numbness in his throat was easing, to be replaced by a sharp, burning pain, as if his tonsils were on fire. He found that through the pain, he could make weak, hoarse but more or less intelligible sounds. He began to plead, to sob, begging the circle of girls standing round him, asking for mercy, making promises that he would never, never, make a nuisance of himself again. They ignored him, and he saw Ellen reach for and pick up the black mask and then lean over to the controls on the cylinders. “A setting of 75% should do the trick nicely, isn’t that what you said, Mia?” She turned and looked down at the wide-eyed man strapped in the chair. “Well, it’s sl**py time for you, Brian my darling. When you wake up you will be a new man, or, to be strictly correct, rather less of a man. Now please be nice and polite and say good night to us all for a while.” Ellen reached down and smoothed the man’s brow with a gloved hand, and then caressed and pinched his cheek with a consoling squeeze. Ellen was obviously enjoying herself, and was quite comfortable in her new role, finding it even more fun than she had expected. But the squeeze of Brian’s cheek was not as gentle as it might have looked, and the eyes above Ellen’s mask were cold and unsmiling, giving the lie to her cheerful teasing. He heard the soft hissing of the gas, and Ellen slowly brought the mask nearer and nearer to his face, deliberately spinning out the awful tension. Brian was sobbing openly, terrified, humiliated and powerless. His breath rasped in and out in his attempt to scream past his burning, partially paralysed, throat He felt a warm stream between his thighs as he lost control of his bladder. He fought for control of his tears and made one last plea, to be allowed leave the firm, to move away, to go to a town far from here, such they would never see him again. Ellen merely shook her head and smiled, and brought the rubber mask down gently and firmly on to the distraught face on the chair. “Too late for all that, I think. Now let’s make this as easy as we can, Brian. Take some deep breaths for your nurse, and you will soon be on your way, and dear Sue can do what has to be done.” On cue, Sue brought a scalpel into view, waving it from side to side, showing Brian the tool that would end his manhood. “Oh no, oh no, please God, no,” said Brian, sobbing into the mask. His very sobs made him draw in the gas. He tried to take in less of the gas, breathing in tiny, shallow breaths, trying to stay awake and alert, in the forlorn hope that this might help him in some way. He pulled and twisted at the straps on his arms, and his feet and legs made the stirrups shake as he tried in vain to get free. Ellen watched him for a while and became alarmed. She called out to Mia, “He is struggling like crazy and trying to hold his breath - he is still very much awake. What should I do?” “You are doing just fine, my dear,” said Mia. “He cannot hold his breath for long and the gas will soon weaken him anyway. To speed things up, you could squeeze that bag and f***e gas into his lungs, although that is a technique that takes a little practice. I think it will be much easier just to add a little chloroform to that mixture. We need to hput him pretty deeply under anyway, to avoid any surgical shock when we cut him. I would normally not introduce chloroform until he was well asl**p from the Nitrous, as that stuff isn’t that pleasant to breathe. As the fool wants to be difficult, he can have the chloroform right now, and that will see him under in no time.” Brian heard the words and realised that he was going to lose his battle, and quickly. He saw Mia move to the anaesthesia machine, and almost immediately a new, sickly, rather unpleasant, smell invaded the mask. “Let’s see you stay awake with that, my boy!” said Mia, with a laugh. Brian drew another shallow breath, and the strong fumes made him cough sharply, and as he coughed he drew in still more of the mixture. He tried to turn his head, away from the mask and the suffocating smell of the chloroform. No way! Ellen had a steady grip, and the heavy collar held him motionless. He continued to writhe against his bonds, and for a brief moment his hand closed on Ellen’s leg as she stood over him. But there was now no strength in his grip, and Ellen pulled her leg away from him with ease. Another gloved hand, perhaps Sue’s, took hold of his hand, squeezing it gently whilst holding it still. Brian found the gloved hand strangely reassuring, and he held on to it in his confused state. He took another breath of the cloying mixture of the sweet gas and the sickly, overpowering fumes of the chloroform, and at last he started to relax. The bag next to him filled and emptied, filled and emptied. With the next breath, a full, deeper, relaxed intake, Brian became strangely calm and warm. He gave up any remaining attempt to struggle, and let himself be swept down into the void that lay beneath him. His fingers fell open, and he released his grip on the comforting hand. His eye-lids drooped, although his hearing still remained acute. He was no longer aware of the mask on his face, nor of the girl above him holding the mask so firmly in place. He could no longer smell the chloroform, or, if he could, it no longer troubled him. The straps no longer worried him, in fact he seemed to be floating slowly off the chair. Barely conscious now, he heard the familiar rushing noise start up in his ears, heard the sharp clicks of the bag’s valves opening and closing, heard the ever-growing hiss of the gas, and, over all of that, heard Mia say “That’s lovely Ellen. You are handling him like a real professional. He is not far away now - a couple more breaths of that mixture and he will be right out.” Over the rim of his mask, Brian looked up at the bright lights of the operating theatre, his vision almost unseeing through the thin slits of his half-closed eyes. Somewhere, in the confused recesses of his mind were the fleeting remains of thoughts of fear and terror. But the thoughts no longer made sense, and he gave a small sigh and was content to let the gas wash them away. He was only vaguely worried when the bright lights above him started to sway and revolve. He no longer really cared, he felt totally serene. It seemed so much easier to let his eyes close fully, and so shut out the troublesome lights. Mia bent forward, and, as she looked down at Ellen’s patient, she smiled and nodded in quiet satisfaction. Her rubber-clad thumb eased one of Brian’s eye-lids fully open, and she peered closely, looking into the pupil, seeking confirmation of what was now pretty obvious. “That’s just about it, Ellen. Well done, he is right under now. That was a pretty good induction, seeing as it was your first time and you had a very anxious and difficult patient to handle.” Mia turned to her self-appointed surgeon. “Are you ready with your scalpel, Sue?” And those were the last words that Brian heard as he finally slipped away, spiralling down and down into total, merciful, unconsciousness. Brian lay slumped at the wheel of his car, in the small hours of Saturday morning in a field not far from his home. He was far from the likely route of any casual passer-by, but if by chance anyone did come that way they would take the sight as that of a d***ken man sl**ping off his beer. He stirred slightly, groaned and shook his head, an unwise move as his head throbbed with the worst ache imaginable. He retched and heaved - something was making him really nauseous. The retching brought him back to partial consciousness. The first feeling he had was of a blinding pain, a terrible burning sensation at his crotch. In a few seconds he was almost wide awake, although the car itself seemed to be rocking as he tried to shake off the effects of the powerful anaesthetic. He was dressed in a thin hospital gown, and he shivered in the cold car. He felt down to his burning crotch and encountered a swathe of heavy bandages. His memory flooded back. The chair - the mask - the gas - the chloroform. Oh No! What had the bitches done! How could they! Brian sobbed, screaming into the hollow darkness of his car. Tears steamed down his face. His throat, too, felt as of it were on fire, and each rasping sob brought new pain. But that was nothing to the excruciating pain below. Time passed, as Brian sat, shivering in his car, paralysed with fear.. What could he do? Who should he tell? The embarrassment, the anguish, the pain! He had to do something - he had to get medical attention, for a start. Goodness knows what skills, or lack of skills, those girls had. He looked for his keys; they were not in the ignition. Where were they? With difficulty, Brian turned his head and looked into the back of his car. There was something on the seat. He switched on the car’s interior lights. His clothes were there, on the back seat, neatly folded. On top was a note, unsigned and typed, and on top of that his bunch of keys. He leant over and took the note into his shaking hands. Battling to focus his eyes, Brian made out the words in the weak interior light of the car. “We could have done, you know! And we could certainly do so again, should the situation arise. Take careful heed of our warning - there will not be another one. The next operation you endure will not have the same ending. And don’t even think of reporting us - who would ever believe you? We have a well corroborated story to contradict yours, about our sexy romp together, and it would the three of us against you - remember. Care to take us on? I don’t think so!” He read the note gain. The note talked of a warning. What!?! Hadn’t they……..? Brian pulled off his flimsy gown, and he tore at the bandages at his crotch, ripping them away and exposing his organs. They were complete! They were covered in nicks and there was bl**d everywhere, but everything was all there. The whole area was covered in some astringent ointment, bright purple, and it was that which was burning him so badly. Brian screamed, but this time with joy and relief. A wave of nausea from the chloroform engulfed him, brought on by his excitement and exertions. Stark naked he leapt from the car and begun to throw up in the field outside - just as a police car came up the lane, catching him frozen in the powerful headlight. The police were more than a bit surprised, and were quite anxious to question a naked and confused man prancing about a field in the middle of a winter’s night, with bright purple genitals! Nothing more was ever heard of Brian at that quiet little office in town. There were a number of rumours, that included some sort of trouble with the police, or some sort of nervous breakdown, and there were stories of a change of career in a town far away. But Ellen and Sue and Mary knew better. As did Gia and her younger s****r, a senior nurse at the clinic that they had borrowed for that fateful afternoon.