Archive-name: Bondage/njlist17.txt

Archive-author: Nurse Jones

Archive-title: The List - 17 of 20





From Nurse Jones,

     I'm lost. But now I know why. And it was ASB Therapy that helped.

For me, reading and writing ASB posts is therapy. Not just a break

from work, which I need desperately sometimes, but somehow writing

stuff down clarifies it for me so I can deal with it. And hearing from

you helps me to feel I'm not (a) weird, and (b) alone down here. Jay

and I are very close, but he's really the only one I have since

leaving Chicago. After a few weeks posting I'm as close to the ASB

regulars as I am to the people I work with, and certainly more inti-

mate than I have been with anyone but Jay. How much I post seems to

depend on how bad things are going at work at the moment.

     I've said before that I'm not constitutionally suited to being a

top. As I read back over an earlier post, I realize that a motherly

attitude toward the bottom is NOT one that translates well into this

role. But it's what I've got. I'm not sure Jay got anything out of it.

He says he did, but he was such a stoic that he clearly didn't get

what I did. I was so timid and afraid of hurting him that I didn't

really do my job.

     Talk about a twisted relationship! I want to give up being a top,

but my bottom won't let me. I'm supposed to be running the show, and I

told him I was going to give him an order to top me, and he wouldn't.

I said "Wait a minute. Who's in charge here anyway?"

     "You are," he says.

     "So top me," says I.

     "Make me."

     I'm not exactly a wilting violet, (more of a willing violet) but

I don't like being a top. (Well, I do, I think, actually, but if I do

it on my terms he won't enjoy it. It will seem like weak vanilla

topping to him. )



     8ù)



     I have plans, but I know I'll go all soft once I have him all

trussed up again. My attitude is that I have to do these things to him

but my main job is to help him get through it.

     And he just seems to endure my timid fumbling as though he were

waiting for a bus. None of the writhing histrionics that I went

through. I don't know if I get through to him or not. He says I'm

doing great. He says he knows what is going on in my mind and it turns

him on. He says that when I put the gag in his mouth (back in List 15,

I think. Which I never finished writing) he could see the changes of

attitude on my face. I didn't think I was that obvious. He said he

could see the feeling of empowerment. Something about the shape of my

nostrils again. What the hell is it about my nostrils? I have heard of

people having cruel mouths, but _nostrils_? And he said he could see

it, and feel it, when I turned all gooey compassionate, too.

     So anyway, In case you forgot, I had been trying to totally

sexually deplete J. He'd had two orgasms. I tried a number of what I

thought were sexy tricks to give him a third, but the best I could

manage was half-mast. There'd been four in one day, before, remember.

Finally, I decided to take the plunge and spread-eagled him, standing

up, arms chained to those overhead eye bolts. (I have the key to the

little locks, now. Remember those?)

     I put a vibrator in him. This was simple curiosity on my part. I

was as gentle as could be, used tons of K-Y, and it still took me a

while to even find... it. I watched his face, still blindfolded, as I

pushed it in. He endured. He's such a stoic. I haven't gotten anywhere

near a limit of his.

     But his erection grew. I'm happy to report to the females in this

little group, that It Works. I mean, the prostate is really there, and

it really is an erogenous zone or something. When I touched it, the

reaction was immediate. He squirmed and his hips kind of moved as

though we were having sex. I don't know if that was involuntary or

not. I knew I had touched a very sensitive spot, though.

     So naturally I turned on the vibrator and pushed a little more,

still experimentally. Get this: he didn't have an erection, to speak

of, the poor thing was exhausted. BUT he had an orgasm anyway. He

ejaculated. Weakly, to be sure, and involuntarily. He couldn't control

his reaction.

     This is valuable data. I know that during a rectal exam a doctor

will sometimes massage the prostate to get seminal fluid for a lab

test, but this was a forced orgasm. I made him have it. I could do it

again and make him have an orgasm exactly when I want him to. On cue.

Perfect timing. I still haven't figured out a way to use this valuable

information yet.

     But I will.



Nurse Jones,

     looking up an old friend.



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