Chapter Twenty

Although they made love more exhaustively than ever and weren’t in bed until nearly three-thirty, Karl was awake again early – nearly an hour before their usual rising. His shoulders were killing him, and his folded-back limbs were cramped and numb. That was merely typical. It was his skin that refused to let him sleep.

His forehead, face and neck, chest and belly, the insides of his arms and legs but especially his genitals all flamed with the agony of the worst sunburn of his life. It felt like an entire Girl Scout troop could toast marshmallows over the fire in his flesh. Yet that was barely the half of it. All that seared-dry-and-tight epidermis was also nubbled everywhere with little inflamed weals, some clustered all over each other. Surely running into the hundreds, all these insect bites itched maddeningly, just as expected. Together with that terrible burning it felt as though half his body was immersed in acid while Lilliputian torturers bored into him with tiny spears. Even where he wasn’t sunburned he was extensively bitten up, and Karl would have writhed in a sandbox full of rock salt if he could. What had been masochistically thrilling in the infliction was now intolerable to have to live with – just as he’d known it would be. That’s what had made it so exciting. Paralyzed and hogtied, almost his entire body stinging and itching, he awoke to this new quarter utterly at the mercy of the atonement he’d chosen.

Only Nurse Drake could ease his misery and she slept contentedly on beside him. Naked in honor of the occasion, she had been snuggled breast-to-breast with him but had rolled onto her back at some point. Now there were a few inches between them. Mourning this rare separation and craving the comfort of at least her commiseration (and yet offended at the idea of disturbing her), Karl gritted his teeth and bit back the mewling that kept trying to leak through them. He sought to console himself by gazing worshipfully at the profile on the pillow. This led to the welcome distraction of recalling their latest orgiastic marathon.

Right under Diana’s glare they’d dallied through an almost endless succession of sex acts. Karl had worked his tongue so hard and continuously for hours that this too was sore, along with an ache in his jaws and the burned, desiccated, abraded tenderness that was his lips. And of course his already badly abused sex organs were put through an ordeal that he was daunted just to remember. Still churning with three month’s sperm, the balls his deity had actually had in her mouth crawled inside and out. Far beyond the proverbial blue, they were also burned purple, swollen, and itching far worse than any fungal problem. Until the extra-large condom came off there was no telling what kind of state his penis had been left in, though the itching agony was even worse under that rubber. All Karl knew was that the excruciation had been so great near the end that when Doreen rode him yet again he was never in any danger of letting them down despite his almost apocalyptic exaltation. That was a good thing. Doreen herself had gotten carried away right in the original sixty-nine. With her sacred center pinning him in place (and urgently humping his out-thrust tongue) he hadn’t been able to warn her. So lost in the frenzy of her full-throated rhythmic double-impalement that she’d missed the usual warning signs, she’d had to pinch him off at the root again when he suddenly started to spasm between her lips. This was even more painfully deranging awake than asleep; Karl lived since in dread of a repeat. Perversely enough though, the monster responded to this memory by stirring anew even now. Not needing to add to its agony at the moment, Karl squirmed for another distraction.

For a while he organized his recollections of the insane dream Sol had driven him too. He had to enter it into the record later. There was the roasting pit and spit, the mob and whips, and hanging hogtied from dislocated limbs. There was the way his brain interpreted the pain in his penis, and Krista there as eager with her shears as ever. He ignored the cannibalistic subtext, which was too creepy and deep to try and figure out. What he concentrated on was the overwhelming gratitude in his excruciating self-sacrifice. His subconscious death-wish remained as strong as ever despite three month’s serious atonement.

This led to wondering what the next three months might hold – beyond the impending sunburn-whipping that is. Yet Karl had hardly begun to consider the question when his bed-mate suddenly stirred and rolled back to clutch him again. Big dark eyes opened full of love and fun and she kissed him, using her tongue afterward to wet his sore dry lips for him.

““How’s my pretty young patient this morning?”

“More in love with his nurse by the instant, as always.”

“Yes? Are you just itching for me to get my claws into you?”

She poised her sharp and sturdy, well-cared for nurse’s nails against his chest. Knowing it would only make things worse but accepting that as necessary (plus just not being able to resist), Karl met that devilish smile with brave and eager submission.

“I think I would die for that, Goddess.”

“You will live for it, boy.”

Very lightly at first, just barely grazing him, she began to scratch his bowed-out torso. When Karl whined with cheated distress at this tantalizing tickle of pain she giggled a little.

“Harder, darling? Do you want me to give it to you harder, little slut?”

“Yes Goddess, please!”

She increased the speed and pressure of her scratching. Only an eighth of an inch in length but strengthened by their sensibleness, her fingernails scraped roughly all over his chest and belly. The agony was overwhelming, the relief twice so. Karl managed not to scream, though his bound body jerked back and forth with involuntary spasms.

“Harder, please!”

“What’s that, little slut?”

Though it made his face flame more fiercely than ever, Karl played the necessary game.

“Give it to me harder mistress, I beg you. Make me shudder and scream like a bitch!”

“Okay, you begged for it; you’re going to get it: all ten fingers’ worth. Here it comes!”

This time she clawed him furiously all over, even his groin and balls, and Karl screamed indeed. Excruciation raged over him. He flopped like her latest hooked largemouth, gasped and screamed again and yet felt a satisfaction that was orgasmic in intensity. Indeed he found it hard to remember if orgasm had ever felt this transcendent. It was certainly never this prolonged. For a good two minutes Doreen kept him jerking and gasping and crying out as she had her way with him in yet another indescribably perverse and fulfilling fashion. At last she let up, and as he’d known would happen the itching returned with redoubled ferocity.

Karl ground his teeth and wept unabashedly, hardly aware of Nurse Drake now pressing down on his bladder. She smiled kindly as he voided, sympathizing with his suffering. Then she cast the covers aside. She changed the polarization on the skylight, letting Sol flood in so she could examine him. She peeled the catheter off, initiating a fresh outrage of burning and itching. Before Karl could more than glimpse the damage though she rolled him over onto it and began untying him. Finally he lay flat on his belly, the relief in his shoulders, limbs and back once again so extreme he thought she was reading off his mind like a script.

“Well that’s a relief.”

Nurse Drake was poring over his backside, separating his cheeks to study his sacrum.

“It looked okay last night, but I wanted to check in the light.

“You were lying in that canvas sling chair for about sixteen hours straight darling. Half the time you were wet and much of it you had double the weight and nonstop friction on you. I knew you had resilient young skin, but this is excellent: not even a hint of a pressure sore anywhere. I don’t think I need to worry so much about rolling you around at night. That’s good; we can start exploring more interesting bondage this quarter too, among other things. But more on that later. Let’s see what the sun and bugs did to you.”

She gave him a saucy spank on the ass – ironically almost the only part of him that didn’t hurt for once) and rolled him back over. She flung his arms and legs back up and wide. The warm morning sun poured down upon him, and even filtered by the glass it made Karl moan in renewed pain. Crushed under him while his nurse probed and pried at his buttocks, the monster had taken this as the cue for its own awakening. Now thanks to Doreen’s naked solicitousness and the phenomenon of ‘morning wood’ he sprang up rigid and foolishly eager again. The lady giggled at catching sight of this.

“My, my, but someone just can’t get enough cock teasing no matter how frustrating or inadvisable!”

These were facts. Karl gaped down at himself, appalled and yet aroused afresh at the state in which their holiday had left him.

Of course the severity of his sunburn was a given, as was the incredible number of insect bites. Actually seeing that angry red color (shading to purple in places) and the prodigious number of those inflamed bumps (it looked like he’d broken out in hives) was still staggering. And naturally the worst of both had been inflicted on his penis.

From root to tip, all over the shaft and head he was seared deepest purple. No wonder he’d dreamed of being charbroiled! And of course here the clustering and even layering of wounds was especially dense. Due to these or the long hours spent being jerked and sucked and rocked and rubbed off on (or surely both) the monster was puffed up hideously tender.

Karl groaned and closed his eyes. Yet the similarity to his honeybee fantasy made him throb harder yet and moan even as he did so. Unable to help herself, Doreen gripped him and started slowly pumping, marveling at the state of him.

“Goodness, your Norse goddess and all those forcibly penetrating little females didn’t leave this fellow in much condition for fun, did they? You might wish he really was cut off soon. Tell me little slut, what are you thinking? Quick now, don’t ponder the matter, just blurt it out.”

“I was remembering a fantasy I had about you yesterday while the sun and bugs were working your will on me, Goddess.”

“Tell me about it.”

So Karl confessed his bizarre longing to be horribly bee-stung so she could treat the wounds with tweezers and suction. To his surprise Doreen didn’t laugh but only smiled fondly and pumped him agonizingly on.

“You’re getting better, darling. I know it doesn’t seem so. Your dreams and fantasies and perversions are reflections of your determination to sacrifice your sexual capacity and even life in payment. And while this issue remains unresolved, it’s working closer to the surface. The more we unearth and indulge your perversions, the more we satisfy your unconscious needs, the closer we come to dispelling them. Have faith Karl, both in me and yourself.”

“I do, ma’am.”

“Okay then: my medical verdict is that you’ve been considerably more burned and bitten than I had originally intended, especially your genitals. But like the toughness of your butt, you’ve often proved you can take much more than I expect, much more than the average man.

“You really are exceptional, and you’re in no danger, darling. You’ll be back to normal in a week. Now, let’s hit the tub! I want to get you washed and shaved and rub some aloe into you. Then we’ll talk about the agenda for this quarter and get started on some proper atonement!”

“Sounds good, ma’am.”

Of course atonement was continuous, a skin-crawling itch-pain that would send any able-bodied person shrieking to the nearest emergency department, or at least medicine cabinet. When Karl sank into their usual hot bath and the water enveloped his genitals however he shrieked like a baby himself. There was no other response to the intensity of the agony.

Even when Doreen began bathing the parts of his sunburn that remained above the surface (chest, shoulders, neck and arms), this more global excruciation remained secondary to the solar conflagration that had replaced his penis. That burning was monstrous indeed, and now Karl truly felt like one of those missionaries, captured by some savage priestess and simmered to death in the cook-pot. Before he could stop himself he cried out.

“Please Goddess, lower me in to my chin!”

Without hesitation she granted this request, dunking him until he had to struggle to keep his face above the surface. Karl screamed and sputtered, gasped and wept and spasmed and strained masochistically rigid as his entire bug-bitten sunburn was suddenly scalded beyond endurance. Blessed Doreen was right with him however, pulling him roughly to her freshly-washed breasts, seizing his incendiary penis in her sponge-mitt and scrubbing him underwater to indescribable extremes of pain and pleasure.

Thus was set the template for the second quarter: Karl’s willing submissiveness, compulsive masochism and futile sexual frenzy all abetting Nurse Drake’s ever more challenging therapy and treatment. Filled with devotion to each other and their goal, enjoying an intensely rewarding symbiosis few could credit or condone, they labored on together toward redemption.

This was not a case of ‘getting used’ to hot water. Still immersed to his lips, Karl simmered and twitched and streamed tears and suffered gloriously while his beloved jerked him right to the brink of orgasm at least half a dozen times. Only then did she raise him back up for shaving, another mundane chore turned excruciatingly erotic.

Rather than apply the usual lotion and enjoy her morning monster-baiting right there however Doreen waited until he was dried off and splayed out flat on the stretching mat before considerately treating his injuries. First she responded to his mute pleading by furiously scratching him to gasping paroxysms again. Then the aloe she rubbed into him everywhere was so hugely soothing that Karl almost wept again with sheer relief. Nurse Drake smiled for him but spoke in a quiet, stern fashion that commanded his attention.

“Enjoy this, darling, because I won’t do it again. I’m setting you on the path to healing yes, but after this we take advantage of the damage for treatment purposes.”

“I understand, ma’am.”

“You also understand that your first-quarter treatments were just to ease you into your year of atonement I hope, and that your punishment sessions will now grow in severity, yes?”

“Yes, mistress.”

“Good. I remain absolutely convinced you can be redeemed, Karl. There are numberless factors in your favor beyond just your willingness and sincerity.

“When it comes to treating conversion disorder, success is most often associated with the following factors: one, with the patient being both male and adolescent, two, with the sudden onset of symptoms, particularly following a traumatic event, and three, with general good health prior to the onset of the disorder and a lack of complicating other physical or mental disorders.

“Symptoms of paralysis and blindness also have a much more favorable prognosis than lesser conditions like twitching and seizures. So you have just about everything going for you. The only worry for us is that the longer the patient has been regressed, the more comfortable he has become in his role of victim, the more difficult treatment can be. I only wish I hadn’t had to wait so long before taking over your case. Anyway, this isn’t the only reason we need to keep ratcheting up your suffering.”

“I know, ma’am. It’s because I’m coming to enjoy the pain.”

“Correct. My little slut is discovering his inner masochist.

“It’s okay to be in love with me and turned on by my domination, in fact it’s wonderful for me personally and crucial to success. But we can’t allow you to enjoy your atonement or it will be without effect. Then you’ll remain in this state forever.”

“If I could remain with you like this forever, that would still almost be paradise, punishment, frustration and all. But I’ll take Maui and goodbye over the state home any day.”

“I understand, darling. Okay, let’s get you stretched out and riding your daily miles. Then your sunburn has a date with my strap.”

“I’ll be here, dear.”