Disappointing Dr. Rogers Pt. 02

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Doug gets a taste of what Dr. Rogers has in store for him.
5.1k words
4.49
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Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 12/08/2017
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Two weeks later, Doug entered the waiting room again. Even though his mind had been almost completely occupied with thoughts of this appointment over the past two weeks – he had trouble focusing at work, often taking breaks to masturbate while imagining how this day would go – he had no idea what to actually expect. He noticed that he couldn't hear voices through the door to the office as he normally could when the previous patient was finishing up. In fact, he realized there was a note taped to the door.

Doug – Go inside. Look at what I have laid out on the coffee table. Follow all the directions. Be back in 15. – Dr. R

More confused than ever, Doug opened the door and went into the office. Everything seemed normal, though he couldn't remember ever being in the office without Dr. Rogers before. He walked back to the seating area and saw that she had left a cardboard box for him on the table. Still unsure, he picked up a second handwritten note.

Doug:

Take off all your clothes. In an effort to help you come to terms with your body, you will not be wearing clothes in this office anymore. I have something for you here. You are not dim-witted. There are instructions. You can figure out how this works. Put it on.

Be kneeling with your legs spread and arms behind your back when I return.

- Dr. R

Doug put the note down. His mind was racing with possibilities. So far this was hewing remarkably close to the fantasies he had cultivated over the past two weeks. It was certainly a strong move from Dr. Rogers. What exactly is she planning?

He glanced up at the clock on the wall and realized he didn't have much time before Dr. Rogers said she would return. He quickly undid his belt and button and unzipped his fly, and he started kicking off his jeans as he unbuttoned his collared shirt. Then, standing in his underwear and socks, he folded the garments and placed them neatly on the floor next to the table. He pulled his socks off and draped them on top of the pile. He took a look at the door to the waiting room, then he hooked his fingers into his boxers, yanked them off and placed them folded on the pile of clothes.

Doug suddenly felt very exposed. His skin prickled with goosebumps as he felt the cool air from the overhead vent drift over his body hair. Even though he had dropped his pants at his last visit, it felt very different being completely naked. He had felt a measure of control last time – after all, it had been his idea to show Dr. Rogers his penis – but that was gone. He realized that this adventure was henceforth out of his hands. He couldn't imagine not obeying Dr. Rogers, especially now that she knew the extent – or lack thereof – of his shame.

All of those feelings swirled inside Doug, leaving his small penis to hang limply from his hairless groin despite his increasing arousal. His scrotum, drawn up close to his body in the drafty office, was barely visible. The butterflies in his stomach seemed to be fluttering up his throat. He turned his attention back to the box on the table. He only had five or six minutes before Dr. Rogers was due back.

He opened the cardboard box. Inside was another box, this one black and glossy and emblazoned with an image of a transparent plastic cage shaped like a penis. Doug stood motionless for moment as he wrapped his brain around this latest development.

Doug wasn't completely thrown. He had come across plenty of chastity play in his porn searches, but he had never worked up the courage to buy a device for himself. He hadn't even really done any research about them; he hadn't been sure he could handle the frustration of locking up his manhood, such as it was. The part of his brain that insisted on asserting his masculinity couldn't come to terms with surrendering his orgasms and erections. But he thought back to Dr. Rogers' instructions, and he had a notion that his feelings about the cage weren't going to matter.

According to the label, this device was called a CB-6000s. Doug lifted the top flap and pulled out a plastic bag. There it was: the small cock-shaped tube. It seemed impossibly short and narrow, even for him. Right then, he had an overwhelming sensation of his penis' smallness. He glanced down, and saw the inch-long wrinkled nub poking out over his tightened hairless scrotum. The cage might be too big for him at his smallest, he realized.

Also in the bag were several other hard, plastic pieces, including rings of various sizes, as well as a small box, maybe an inch long. Curious, he opened the Ziploc seal and fished it out. He realized what it was the second before it slid out into his hand. The padlock was also smaller than he would have guessed. There were two tiny keys next to it in his palm. He gulped. What had he gotten himself into?

Only three minutes left. Doug found a set of instructions inside the black box. It took some mixing and matching of the rings, but he found the one that fit snugly under his balls. He got all the other pieces in place before it was time to slide the tube on. His little cock had stiffened somewhat with the action of fitting on the cage's pieces, but it still looked pathetic jutting out over his hiked-up balls. He felt the cool air move over his shaft one last time.

Doug slid the tube on. He had to cram it down – carefully and slowly to avoid pinching his skin – over his semi-erection for the last few centimeters to get it to line up with the locking mechanism. All of a sudden, everything was in place. With his last bit of courage, he slid the lock through the hole and clicked it. He grabbed his package to test it. His constrained balls registered the feel of his fingers, but his shaft and cockhead felt nothing. There was no sensation at all. His fingers felt only plastic.

Dr. Rogers could enter any second. Doug knelt on the floor in front of the table and crossed his arms behind his back. He felt the cage weighing his cock and balls down. The cool air in the office filtered past the rigid, locked mass, and Doug saw with a glance that his shriveled penis – now at perhaps maximum flaccidity and minimum size thanks to the bundle of nerves in his stomach – indeed didn't even fill the short tube. Moments passed. Doug was facing away from the clock, and he couldn't even guess how long he waited there, though in actuality it was only a few minutes.

Just as he started to slouch in his position, Doug heard the door from the waiting room to the hallway open and close. He quickly straightened up and spread his knees further apart to expose his locked little cock. The office door opened and Dr. Rogers entered. Doug's stomach was in knots, but Dr. Rogers didn't even spare him a glance as she walked to her desk. Leaning over her rolling chair, she made several keystrokes on her computer and jotted down a few lines in the large calendar that always lay on her desk.

Doug view from his spot on the floor was somewhat obscured by the chair Dr. Rogers usually sat in. He started to get a little frustrated that he had put so much effort into following her instructions and she was totally ignoring him so far. Hell, he paid for these sessions and she was at least 15 minutes late! His masculine brain decided he would ask where she had been. He craned his neck to see her better and coughed slightly in an effort to clear his throat. At the noise, Dr. Rogers' head shot up and she locked eyes with him in a commanding gaze.

"Do not speak, little boy," she said coldly. Doug didn't need telling twice. He returned to his original position, his cage swinging softly between his legs. His eyes were on the floor.

Finally, Dr. Rogers finished her work at the desk and slowly walked over to the seating area. Doug kept his eyes fixed on the leg of the chair in front of him. She stepped in front of him. He saw long legs, smooth, elegant, tan and bare. She wore a pair of strappy black high heels. Doug gulped. Even something about the way she stood exuded sexuality – more than he had ever witnessed in her – and total confidence and control.

"Look up, little boy," she said in her familiar rasp, though even that was laced with a command he had never heard before. He raised his eyes. She wore a tight grey skirt that ended just above her knee. Her large, womanly bosom loomed over him, outlined clearly in her navy blue women's blazer. Above that, he saw the lapels of a white blouse. Her brown, highlighted wavy hair was pulled back and pinned up. She wore just the right amount of makeup. Doug felt her eyes rove up and down his pathetic body as she peered down at him dispassionately. She was cold and hard and perfect.

Doug's opinion of her must have been obvious on his face, because Dr. Rogers' stoic visage broke into a smirk. Doug was aware of his hairy stomach, his pale doughy legs and most of all the absurd contraption hanging from his shaved groin – all totally on display before this goddess – and felt incredibly unattractive. He cowered below her.

"You really are pathetic, aren't you?" she said. "I was on vacation last week, and I wasn't sure which Doug would show up today. Would it be the normal young man I've known for so many years? Someone who might have the balls to challenge my instructions and stand up for himself? Or would it be the feckless, pathetic wimp I see below me now. I guess never really should have wondered."

The realization that he had lived down to her worst expectations of him made Doug feel even more powerless and weak. He dropped his eyes and grimaced in humiliation.

"At least you follow instructions well."

Even though it meant that he had utterly submitted to her will and debased himself in front of her, the complimentary aside gave Doug a small burst of confidence. His mind was swimming, but the thought occurred to him that Dr. Rogers was successfully emotionally manipulating him to seek her approval. He didn't think he had ever really had a choice.

Dr. Rogers sat down in the armchair in front of him and crossed her smooth legs.

"OK let's have a look at you. Lie down on your back and spread your legs up into the air. Hold them apart with your hands."

Doug did as he was told, and soon his cock cage was bobbing between his spread-eagled legs. After all that happened between his last appointment and today, this moment was when Doug felt his submission was truly complete. He was putting his most embarrassing, private body part on absolutely unhindered display at Dr. Rogers' command. There was no hiding, no modicum of self-respect to hide behind or scrap of manliness left to hang on to. The weight of the cage pulled his cock and balls back down between his legs.

Dr. Rogers extended one long leg, and with the toe of the black high-heeled shoe, prodded his bulging ballsack. She pushed his package as far as it could before letting the package fall back scrotum-first. Doug's balls squeezed against the unforgiving plastic of the chastity cage's ring. It took all his concentration to fight the urge to let go of his legs as the pain radiated up into his stomach.

"That's the way I like you on display. There can be no hiding from the fact that your tiny penis is pointless. It is worthless. There are going to be some new rules around here. Say, 'Yes, Ma'am' to show you understand."

"Yes, Ma'am," Doug said, still battling the pain of his scrotum. It was hard working the air out with his legs constricting his lungs.

"Good. Now, you already saw the first rule. You will never wear clothes in this room again unless I tell you to. Got that?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"When you come for an appointment, you will stay in the waiting room until the previous patient leaves. Then you will remove your clothes and leave them in there until the appointment ends."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"This isn't just some game. I am trying to help you, as hard as that may be to believe. You aren't going to be able to function in society in the typical male role with a penis like that. You will not have any confidence because you can't be proud of it." Dr. Rogers took a breath and leaned forward in the chair. "I'm trying to help you find your place in the world."

"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you." Doug was a little afraid of the intensity in Dr. Rogers' eyes and the extremity of her claims. He had only wanted some casual humiliation, at least at first. He had no idea what his request would awaken in his formerly kind and nurturing psychiatrist. But something was also waking up in him. Dr. Rogers' words resonated with a part of his brain; part of him found the idea of giving up on being a man so relaxing. Like he would all of a sudden be removing a heavy suit of armor he'd forgotten he was wearing. Even though his remaining masculinity rebelled against the terrifying notion, he felt a kind of peace within what Dr. Rogers promised.

"I'm speaking from experience as a women as well as a medical professional: Women are just turned off by men like you. It's not that all women need porn star cock, but the way your smallness has stunted your development as a man has rendered you very" – Dr. Rogers searched for the right word – "unsexy. Aside from the simple fact that your penis is too small to feel good for sex and is kind of gross to look at, you are ineffective and clumsy. You are weak. You are just ... not a man. You will have to become something else."

Doug responded: "Yes, Ma'am."

"Ok, good. Now you may go sit on the couch."

As Doug awkwardly got up, he realized his feet were asleep. He half-limped around the table to the couch.

Dr. Rogers called after him: "Sit on the edge of the couch and spread your legs."

He did so. His little cock and balls – safely locked away – sat on the couch cushion like a delicate coin purse. Doug sensed the manliness he had so often felt forced to project get peeled back, layer after layer. Dr. Rogers eyed him across the table.

"Here is the main thrust of my treatment for you. You are not going to have access to your fancy little cockie anymore. You need to move past having a cock mentally, emotionally and physically. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Doug felt almost tipsy with nerves and excitement. His cock tried to stiffen against the cage, tightening the plastic ring around his balls. "Yes, Ma'am, I understand."

"So here's the deal. You're going to be wearing that chastity cage a lot more often now."

Doug was expecting to hear something along those lines, but it still made his arms prickle with anticipation.

"You're going to be wearing it until our next session, for starters. That means no erections, no masturbation, no disgusting ejaculation" – she locked eyes with him – "for a week. And there are three keys."

The padlock had slipped from his mind; he had been so focused on the feeling of the cage enclosing his penis and scrotum. The truth of his prison suddenly became apparent. The keys were the only things that could help him. His mouth dried up. He had only seen two keys box waiting for him. Where was the third?

"Naturally, I will keep one key. The second key will go to Jess."

Doug was not expecting to hear that. His stomach collapsed. Sweat broke out on his back and underarms. His ex-girlfriend, whom he hadn't seen in several weeks, would hold one of his keys? She would know about the cage? He gulped before finding breath to speak.

"Jess, Ma'am? Is that necessary?"

"Yes, cuck. She has suffered the most from your feeble equipment. I have already called her to explain. I expect you will detect a noticeable change in the dynamic of your relationship the next time you two meet."

Doug was absolutely flabbergasted. His fantasies extended pretty far, but this was real life. Real fucking life. Jess knew all his family members, they had all the same mutual friends from college, for fuck's sake. She could tell any of them.

"Um ... Ma'am ... I don't know if I'm OK with that," he stammered. He expected his pathetic attempt at standing up for himself to be met with rage, but Dr. Rogers merely smiled and peered down at his locked cock.

"You don't get to decide that anymore, little cuck. Jess already knows. She and I had a good laugh when I told her. I mailed her the key yesterday; she should get it any day now."

Doug sputtered but bowed his head, unable to think of anything to say. His cock had softened and shrunk to a flaccid nub in his submission. His eyes were downcast, his shoulders cowed.

"Very good, you tiny boy. Don't cry. I haven't even told you who will hold on to your third key. I think you'll like it."

Doug looked up fearfully. His mind raced, flipping through snapshots of possible candidates in an instant.

"It's someone you might not remember at first, but –" She stopped suddenly and turned her head. They had both heard a sound that was clearly the waiting room door opening and closing. The breath caught in Doug's throat. Dr. Rogers checked her watch and turned her toothy grin back toward him. "I guess he's here early.

"Don't cover up or move!" she added firmly after seeing his hands flit toward his groin. Doug's heart was pounding in what felt like his esophagus. He kept his little locked cock and balls thrust forward on the couch. The office door opened.

A young man walked in. At first Doug could only make out a thick shock of brown hair. Then a handsome, smooth face came into focus. There WAS something familiar in those uncluttered features. The man closed the office door behind him and walked forward confidently. He was well built, but lean, not bulky or hulking. He filled out his dark brown slacks nicely, and he wore a patterned collared shirt under a fashionable light jacket. His eyes flashed to Doug at the back of the room. He wasn't shocked, but his face registered a curious reaction at the absurd scene. The man locked eyes with Doug.

Recognition instantly flashed into Doug's brain. His jaw literally dropped. He knew who this man was, but why? It couldn't be.

"I see you remember Brandon Crowley from high school," Dr. Rogers said, in response to Doug's slackened expression. "He was one of my patients when he was younger, and just like you, he comes back to see me every now and then."

Crowley stood next to Dr. Rogers' chair. Doug couldn't bear to look at him in the face, but he felt Crowley's eyes search him up and down. Doug had never dreamed that he could feel so exposed and humiliated. His mind swam.

Crowley had indeed been in Doug's grade in high school, but that had been six years ago, and ... he was just some fucking guy. He was neither an enemy nor a friend. Doug supposed their relationship had been nominally friendly back in the day, but that was in that way you are with kids you saw in school year after year and maybe had some classes with but never got to know. Crowley was thoroughly just some fucking guy, but evidently that was about to change.

From what Doug could remember in his addled state, Crowley had gone to a big preppy party school after graduation. He probably worked in finance now and made a lot of money. He certainly looked the part with his cocksure stride and thick hair.

But why him, Doug wondered. The man was basically a stranger, but Doug felt that their shared history somehow produced an even more overwhelming sense of humiliation and degradation. Doug now remembered running into Crowley at a bar in the city about a year ago, when he was still with Jess, at a birthday party for an old high school friend. They had made small talk, and Doug remembered trying to be competitive and compare himself to Crowley, who radiated confidence and success. Doug had been utterly emasculated and embarrassed then, but that was nothing compared to how he felt at this moment. Why was this happening?

Doug must have looked confused, because Dr. Rogers explained: "Brandon here has also talked me about his sexual history, but his story is rather different from yours. He has had ... bigger issues, you might say." She grinned and looked up at Crowley's smirking face, then down at the bulge in his tight pants, then back at Doug. "Show him, Brandon."

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