How long She had left him bound there naked atop the medical bondage table he could not say. eugene shivered. The smell of strong disinfectant filled his nostrils as he lay there, completely powerless, atop the cold, black slab.

“The diagnosis is excessive masturbation,” Mistress Ayn said simply, reading from a chart. Mistress Ayn was dressed in a green medical uniform, a non-regulation one cut in such a way that it allowed a glimpse of Her lovely, pale bosom.

“Let’s see if the castration was successful. That’s really the only cure for this type of problem.” eugene heard the snap of latex as Mistress Ayn adjusted Her gloves. The Mistress brought the bright medical light down to eugene’s groin and began Her examination. “Not much here,” the Domina said. Mistress Ayn used an array of sharp, metal tools to carefully, thoroughly probe the submissive’s limp cock and testicles.

The Mistress took Her time with the “procedure.” Each tool that She used hurt eugene in a different way. It was like a cleaning at the dentist, but down there between the thighs.

“Just as I expected,” Mistress Ayn said. “The castration was not completely successful.” Mistress Ayn’s practiced eye had caught something. Despite the pain, or perhaps because of it, eugene’s small cock evinced just the hint of a slight, turgid erection.

“Pull your legs up to your shoulders,” Mistress Ayn commanded. “As high as you can.” The Mistress reached for the lubricant on the metal tray there beside the table.