The Neck Injury Treatment

Disclaimer: 'Wankers neck' is neither an actual clinical diagnosis or Latin term. The described treatment is fictitious and should not be requested from a licensed practitioner. Unlicensed practitioners should also be approached with caution with such a request.

Please enjoy this story in the spirit intended.

The Neck Injury.

*****

"Wankers Neck!"

That wasn't quite what I was expecting to hear. In fact I was fairly confident it might not be an actual thing. But here I was in the physiotherapists clinic, listening to an actual physiotherapist tell me what was wrong with me.

I guess I should fill in a few details.

I'm a reasonably healthy, vibrant, fit and vital young, 26-year-old guy. I love my sports and am adequately social and enjoy the occasional beer with friends.

In such a situation, surrounded by my gang of varying personalities, I was detailing an ailment in my neck. There was a group of us, about ten I suppose in total, sitting round in Brendon's backyard. It was the usual meeting place on most weekends because he had the best set up. A huge tv which could be seen from almost everywhere in the yard through French doors, into his open plan house. He had outdoor bean bags and other comfortable casual furniture. There was a fire pit and a bar with an "ever full" fridge, containing a range of beers and wines, wine coolers, juices and soft drinks.

This was always dependent on the tastes of the guests. Brendon was always happy to host if we brought the drink. This suited all of us and our weekend hang outs were a thing of beauty. I am sure this is not dissimilar to 90% of the western world's '20 somethings' social arrangements in one way or another.

Anyway, on this particular Friday, I was talking about my neck and how I had no idea what was wrong with it. After a couple of minutes detailing to the group how it was affecting me when I woke and during certain activities over the course of a work day etc, I broke for advice. I am sure it was riveting stuff but among the jibes of "just harden the fuck up" and "poor, poor, poo poo" to which I poked my tongue out at, there was the more sincere response from Sherry.

"Why don't you pop into my office on Friday and I'll take a look at it?" That was what she said.

I felt a bit stupid, remembering right then that Sherry was a practicing physiotherapist. Not only that but she was a real hottie. Not a catwalk model but cute, short and blonde. Her hair was cut in a bob and while her dressing was usually fairly conservative in style, I had always noticed her breasts were shapely and full and that she kept in shape. I have also heard this is often the case with people in her type of career. Fit and sporty with a killer smile.

Tennis, running and frequent visits to the gym made her a tight package. Her pretty smile and button nose had always made her a ten for me. Of course I had never done anything about it and over the course of time, with the combination of my shy nature, her hotness attracting constant attention from others, I had adequately placed myself in her 'friend zone'. I hadn't pursued her in any way other than general scenarios which involved my imagination, some lube, my cock and a tissue.

Oh yes, we had some incredible times together, if only in my head.

So, while the prospect of spending some time alone with Sherry appealed, I realized it would only be in a professional capacity and was grateful on both fronts. One, to get time with my crush and two, treatment for my irritated neck.

Forward one week and I had made my way to her clinic. She was already a young partner in a busy firm and word around town was they could perform miracles with previously considered, 'non treatable' ailments.

I was confident I was in good hands.

It was unexpected to see her at reception but I was happy it was just so. In fact she was the only person I could see in the building but nothing about this struck me as odd. I was there for a reason and as a friend, I was very happy to see her.

"Hi Dave, come on through" she said, directing me to another white door leading further inside the building.

"Cheers, cool." I responded and followed her pointed arm in the assigned direction. The building and surroundings were pleasant with modern pastel furnishings complimenting and breaking up the large white surface areas.

Her treatment room consisted of what I might expect. I didn't spend a lot of time in medical facilities generally but the room was sparse and there were clean surfaces and white cupboards. The room was fairly spacious and aside from the comfortable chairs we sat in, the only other furniture was a massage type table.

Sherry set me at ease with some ice breakers and general chit chat around our common friends and events which were coming up at Brendon's house this week. The big game, what the others were up to and those kinds of things.

After a while she got down to business. After filling out some forms with my details and any critical known ailments (of which I had none) Sherry directed me to stand and take off some clothing so she "could take a look" at me.

I raised an eyebrow slightly but she smiled and assured me that by "getting a look at my posture" she could "get a better idea of my ailment and how to treat it."

It sounded reasonable to me so feeling only a little self conscious, I clumsily removed everything but my black nylon boxers. These are the light cycle short type which are my preference. I placed my loose clothing on the provided table and it was all I could do not to sprout a rod right then and there.

From her perspective, Sherry could make any arrangement of clothing look good and her mid thigh lab coat did little to douse my imagination. If I had let things get out of hand I would have envisaged she had nothing on below the waist. "Oh god, don't think like that!" I attempted to discipline myself mentally and think of Chinese prime numbers.

After some initial assessments and some light prodding and guidance around what might help my posture in general, she directed me toward the massage table and thankfully told me to lie face down. "God help me if I have to roll over," I thought to myself.

My face fit snugly into the padded oval and I watched her feet through the hole as she approached me again.

"I'm going to apply some warm lube and massage your neck for a while. I have a good idea of what your issue is and how to treat it." She was very confident and assertive with her language and tone etc. This set me at ease and she went on to say, I'm going to try something a little different with your permission and while quite alternative I happen to think it is the best thing for what you have, OK?"

I think I managed an "I'm all yours," thinking at the time "she is a licensed operator and a friend, where can I possibly go wrong?"

Her hands felt like firm, hot golden oil as they manipulated and rubbed the muscles, tendons and whatever else was surrounding my vertebrae. I'm pretty sure you can sometimes feel others emotions and I am certain I felt Sherry smile when I let out a groan. Whether it was her or because of the attention to my troubled neck it felt so good and I told her so.

"We haven't even started yet" she said before going on to say, "I'm going to secure your legs to the table for the next part."

On reflection this perhaps could have come as a surprise but she managed to complete the process between and during the heavenly neck manipulation so I barely felt any anxiety. The same was said when shortly after my legs were held apart and fixed to the edges of the table, my wrists were also fastened near my hips.

I think in my ignorance and trust I just continued to lightly moan in pleasure like putty in her hands. When the on and off again massage stopped once more, Sherry clipped a thin band over the small of my back and another over my head and across the table. In a very short pleasurable period I had been fastened to the table. It was understating things to say my cock was extremely hard, trapped but expanding and thankfully hidden from the view of my adorable friend.

I had almost drifted off a little in her ministrations so it was a little bit of a shock when she spoke again. It might have been that, or what she actually said.

"Dave?" To which I had groggily responded "yes, yes Sherry."

"You have wankers neck!"

Hearing this I tried to lift myself up and realized quite completely that I was fastened to the bed absolutely.

I really couldn't move. I was stuck fast and could barely wiggle an inch in any direction.

Sherry carried on and stated "you have both audibly and physically agreed to my treatment so I will continue with it." She was quite matter of fact which set my mind at ease a little but then I felt by boxer shorts being removed. Slowly they were lowered and stretched over my, slightly angled outward, quads.

"Sherry!" I protested quite loudly realizing that this treatment had suddenly gone beyond the realms of what was standard or usual. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Shssssh, if you make too much noise someone may come in to check on us. Is that what you want?" She continued to roll and slide my underwear of my ass.

"What are you doing?" I repeated albeit more quietly, as despite the pressure and my limited movement, my underwear sprang completely free from my cock and gathered mid-thigh. Again, I could feel her smile. I was hard as a rock and wondered if she could tell.

"Dave, I am continuing your treatment." She repeated.

I strained and said "but, but..." which was coincidental as she was obviously looking at my bare butt.

She again replied with "Shsssssh," and leaning downward she seemed to be fiddling with something under the massage table. In a matter of seconds after what seemed to be the management of some screws or something, a small swing door located between my legs swung open. I felt my balls and penis explode forward and drive downward with nothing to press against. Thank you gravity.

"Oh god!" I managed to utter.

I heard her move on the chair and felt that she was leaning under to have a look. This was confirmed when despite not being able to see her, her voice came from below. "Mmmmm nice and trimmed... and a good size Dave."

"Oh God," again my already limited vocabulary had deserted me.

Next I heard Sherry position her chair alongside and close to the middle of my table. Through my little port hole, I saw her place an open tub of lube on the floor.

As she sat I could see a lot of her legs, which as mentioned already, I adored. While I still could not tell, it looked as though perhaps she really was not wearing anything under her pure white coat. Or was this my imagination taking over in this already wildly bizarre scenario?

I groaned loudly again as she lent in and dipped two fingers into the massage gel.

Smearing her hands together within my vision, she lowered he voice and said, "Dave, it's really important that for as long as you can help it, that you don't ejaculate, OK?"

When she said the word ejaculate I nearly came. Every vein in my cock was strained as was every muscle in my body to try and force myself free.

"But but," was all I could utter again as the whole experience was fucking with my head and my ability to think.

Then her hands lightly grasped my cock and balls and began to rub in the gel.

I strained with all of my being she lightly rubbed me. Upward, outward I strained. Also somewhat, I strained not to cum right then and there. Soon I was covered in the substance and I could feel the warming sensations from the product. The same sensations that had felt so good on my neck earlier.

Once my package was lathered she started jerking me off. There was no other way of putting it. Her left hand cradled and lightly squeezed my balls and her right circled and moved up and down my shaft.

I was making a strange humming noise from straining everywhere. My jaw was locked, every part of me trying to lift from the table.

Again, I heard her whisper, "Dave, don't cum."

I caught a glimpse of Sherry's legs. "They weren't open like that before were they?"

Too late!

There was fire and the massive rumbling which inevitably leads to an explosive orgasm for me. The already tense fibers and every sinew in my legs strained. My thighs pressed into the table and my body completely passed over to her whims.

I started spurting. While I couldn't see my own cock I saw the first stream of white fluid rocket below my eyes and onto the tiled floor. This, along with the continued stroking inspired my cock to send further fluids. All of which just missed the tub of rubbing gel but I did note I managed to land some of my liquid soldiers on Sherry's right shin and calf. This in turn kept me shooting for what seemed like hours. Perhaps it was 30 seconds, I don't know.

It was over and I was nearly unconscious. The intensity and unexpected nature of the unfolding events was obviously to much.

So initially I didn't react when I felt the straps untied and my movements freed.

When I did get my wits about me I raised my head and located Sherry. She was sitting in her chair which she had dragged back to be beside the other one in it's earlier location. She glanced up at me from her notes and smiled.

Not knowing what to do I lifted myself off the table, raised my underwear to cover myself and moved over to the rest of my clothes. I truly didn't know how to feel. It was a cloudscape of confusion running through my head.

What the fuck had just happened?

I imagine I looked fairly flustered and while I had said very little since my release, as had Sherry, there was some kind of a tension in the room.

"What the fuck?" I eventually managed in an equally anguished and confused voice.

"How's the neck?" she asked.

I turned to give her a piece of my mind, get some answers and possibly start legal proceedings when I realized.

The very motion I had made to turn had not resulted in the stomach twisting agony I had been feeling for over six weeks.

"But but..."