Dr Sven's Patent Penis Enhancing Ointment

How big is yours?"

Joe looked across the office at Angela, his new temp secretary. What was she on about?

"How big is my what?"

"You know. Your thing?"

"I'm sorry. What thing"

"Your willy! How big is it?"

Joe felt his face go red. What a question. Mrs Frobisher, his old secretary would never have been so impolite. Still, girls nowadays were different.

"I can't tell you that!"

"Why ever not?"

"It's private," Joe felt his face burning, but it wasn't just because it was private that he was embarrassed. Any mention of the size of his willy made him embarrassed. He had measured it over and over again and he just couldn't get it bigger than four and a half inches. He had suspected this was on the small size and research on the internet had proved it. It was within normal limits, but only just. Still, within normal limits was average wasn't it?

"Go on, you. You can trust me."

Joe felt somehow to say nothing would be an admission of inadequacy. Size wise that is.

"Average," he said.

Angela sighed. She could see she wasn't going to get much more out of him. She had been thinking of a secretaries' sweepstake on his size. Inside information would have been invaluable, but he wasn't going to tell her anything useful.

Joe fretted about his penis size all evening. He could tell he hadn't been convincing. What a thing to ask your boss! Not that he would ever tell. He'd have been a laughing stock. Still, four and a half inches. If only there was some way he could make it grow.

He opened up his computer. Perhaps there was some treatment. And there it was! In his inbox! The very thing! An email from a Dr Sven.

'Men. Do you feel inadequate? Is your manhood an embarrassment? We at Sven Laboratories have developed the only proven penis enhancement treatment. For further information contact Dr Sven now. All enquiries treated in total confidence.'

Proven treatment! It was just what he was looking for. Sven Laboratories? It sounded Swedish. The Swedes knew about these things. They had enormous ones; he'd seen some of those Swedish movies. He didn't hesitate. 'Dear Dr Sven...," he wrote. He was always formal in emails.

Ping!

'Dr Sven' looked in the inbox and smiled. People were so gullible!

Click.

'Dear Dr Sven,' the email read, 'Could you please send me details of your proven penis enhancement treatment. I would like all correspondence kept strictly confidential.'

The email was saved in the folder marked 'Suckers' and the reply composed.

Ping!

Joe could hardly wait to open the email. This would change his life. No more embarrassment. He would be able to stand in the shower at the gym and show off how big he was. He would be able to boast to Angela! She might even be impressed! She might even...

'Dear Mr J,' the email began, 'thank you for your interest in our exciting new product. I can personally guarantee the effectiveness of this revolutionary treatment. In order to assess you for the most appropriate treatment, which can produce enhancement of up to 50%, you will need to send a payment of £23 to....' And it gave payment instructions.

Joe read with increasing excitement. Only £23, it was an absolute bargain! He read on...

'Unfortunately this type of product attracts certain interest which is not always entirely genuine. For this reason we will require proof of your identity. Can you therefore please email, along with your payment a scanned in copy of a photo ID. Thank you very much for your cooperation."

Joe couldn't wait. Fifty percent enhancement. That would mean he would be six inches or more. Angela would be more than impressed. He dug his credit card and driving licence out of his wallet, scanned them in and sent them off to Dr Sven.

Dr Sven carefully cashed the £23, filed the photo ID and credit card details and sent a reply.

Ping!

Joe opened it up, his heart thumping.

'Dear Mr Johnson, thank you for your initial payment. In order to tailor our product to your exact personal requirements can you please provide me with a close up photograph of your penis so that the exact penis type can be ascertained. This will enable an additional 50% enhancement. Unfortunately some clients have not acted honestly in this respect in the past so we must ask you to hold a card next to your penis showing your full name and address that we can verify against your photo ID. Further instructions will be provided on receipt of your next payment of £47. Yours sincerely, Dr Sven.'

Only £47 for another 50% enhancement. It was almost too good to be true! He quickly wrote out his name and address on a card and took the photo as requested.

Dr Sven looked at the picture and grinned. No wonder he was so keen! The picture was filed under 'Suckers'. It would be needed later. Time for the next turn of the screw.

Ping!

Joe looked at the email. It was even more encouraging.

'Dear Mr J, Thank for the information requested. I am confident that we will be able to produce an enhancement to at least nine inches. Your product is being formulated. For our records, and to demonstrate proof of effectiveness, can you please provide us with a picture of your erect penis with a ruler held next to it so that we have an exact measurement of current size. For quality assurance purposes we need you to be fully identifiable, so the picture should be a full frontal nude showing your face and holding the photo ID already requested. When we receive this and your next payment of £78, we will be in a position to dispatch your individually tailored product.'

It was a steep payment, £78, but Joe didn't hesitate. Nine inches! He imagined himself in Angela's knickers already! No girl could resist that.

He stripped naked, set up the camera, got out the ruler... No need to do anything else. The thought of getting in Angela's knickers had done the trick. He held it against his penis, held his photo ID in the other handand the timer on the camera clicked. A mere £78. It was worth every penny!

Dr Sven nearly punched the air with excitement when the photo arrived. She had bet five inches in the sweepstake but nobody would be likely to go under that so she had as good as won. Angela loved masquerading as Dr Sven. She had thought the name up herself and was particularly proud of it. She tried the little scam everywhere she worked, it was one of the reasons she liked temping, and it was amazing how often those stupid men fell for it. This, however, was the first time she had got such a complete collection of compromising photos and ID's. And the money of course. And that was only the start. Still, there was more fun to be had yet before she started extracting the big sums.

She uploaded the pictures to her blog, her followers would enjoy those, and composed another email.

Ping!

Joe's hand was trembling as he opened up Dr Sven's latest email.

"Dear Mr J, I am pleased to tell you that you have been specially selected for our 'Ultra' product. This is a special product which guarantees not only significant size enhancement, but also significant increase in sensitivity and performance. It is available to you for the additional sum of only £100. We look forward to receiving your instructions.

Joe could hardly believe his luck. Specially selected. Increased sensitivity! Increased performance. He was in Angela's knickers for certain. And wouldn't he enjoy it! He didn't hesitate. One hundred pounds was dispatched.

******************************

Angela took out the large tub of ointment she had bought from the pharmacist. It was labelled 'Fiery Jack' and promised to 'make your skin glow red and hot' wherever it was rubbed on. It was meant to relieve sore muscles, but Angela had felt it would produce a suitable effect masquerading as 'Dr Sven's Patented Penis Enhancing Ointment'. She smiled as she squeezed the contents into an appropriately labelled tin - you could make very convincing labels with the right software. She looked at the tin quizzically, she had better ensure a really dramatic effect. She got a bottle of chilli oil out of her kitchen cupboard and added a few drops, thought for a while, then added a big squirt. With a smile of satisfaction she mixed it in thoroughly, screwed the lid on the tin, parcelled it up and wrote out the address. Then she put in the very special instructions. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.

Joe looked at the instructions again. He had to make sure he got it absolutely right.

1. Shave the pubic area. Any remaining hair will adversely affect the potency of the product.
2. Liberally apply Dr Sven's Patented Penis Enhancing Ointment to testicles and penis.
3. For maximum effect allow five minutes for absorption then apply a second time.
4. Rub in vigorously.

He unscrewed the lid of the tin. He would follow the instructions to the letter. He couldn't wait. He absolutely couldn't wait.

Angela looked across at Joe sitting at his desk. She could tell the ointment was working. He was red in the face, sweating profusely and couldn't keep still in his chair. The added chilli oil had been an inspired innovation.

As for poor Joe. Why had he put on that third application! And the fourth! He had been so keen for it to start working quickly. So keen to get in Angela's knickers and now his cock and balls felt on fire. They were so hot he felt they must glow in the dark. He would have to do something? Spray them with cold water. Something!

And Angela was looking at him. She could tell something was wrong.

"Is something the matter?"

She looked concerned.

"Nothing!" Joe tried to look unconcerned. He couldn't let on what he had done.

"What do you mean ‘nothing’? You're as red as a beetroot! I'm a trained nurse you know. If there is anything the matter you can tell me."

Trained nurse indeed! She had once worked in reception at the hospital, but she could get away with anything, could Angela.

Joe was totally convinced. Angela was a nurse! She would know what to do. Oh why had he put those extra applications on! He felt as if his balls would explode if he didn't do something.

"I put some treatment on my er... My er...,"

"Your er... What?"

"My er...," he was going to have to tell her or his penis would burst into flames, "...on my willy..., and my er..."

"On you willy and your... Well all your privates do you mean?"

"Well yes..."

"What on earth for? Don't tell me you fell for one of those 'Men, do you want to enhance your penis' scams?"

"Yes... Dr Sven's Patented..." poor Joe had never felt such a fool in all his life. It was a scam. Of course it was. He'd not see that money again and...

"Oh My God! I've heard of that stuff. We'll have to act quickly!"

"Why? What? I mean what will happen if we don't."

"They'll shrivel up!"

"What! What will shrivel up?"

"Your cock! Your balls! They feel all hot don't they?"

"Hot! They're on fire!"

"My God! You didn't put on any extra applications did you?"

"Well yes..."

"Oh no! Quickly. Get your clothes off!"

"What!"

"Get your clothes off. Quickly! All of them. You're so lucky I know what to do."

"But..."

"Quickly. Quickly. Get your clothes off."

Poor Joe? He'd been scammed. He'd been taken for a fool. And now his balls were going to shrivel up. But still... He couldn't strip naked could he?

"Quickly..."

The urgency in Angela's voice was enough to persuade him. She knew how to persuade people did Angela. He started to tear his clothes off.

"Get them off. Get them off!"

He was standing there in nothing but his pants. Even with balls on fire he was reluctant to pull them down.

"Come on... No time to lose...”

Of course. His balls would shrivel up if he didn't. His pants came down and he could barely suppress a gasp of horror as he looked down. Both balls and willy, smooth and clean shaven, were bright red. Glowing like a beacon in the dark.

"Come on...," said Angela, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him towards the door.

"Where are we going?"

"The emergency shower of course. It's the only thing..."

"But... But... I can't go there in the nude. It's the other side of the building. It's outside. It's beside the front door!"

"Do you want to save your balls or not!"

"Yes but..."

"There's no 'yes but' about it. You do as you're told."

"Yes. Yes... Of course..."

It was a scene that lived long in the memory of those who witnessed it. Angela made sure he was pulled naked through the outer office, along the main corridor, through the staff canteen, past reception and out through the front door. Every person they passed stopped working, every pair of eyes opened wide, every jaw dropped, and every gaze was drawn inexorably to a bright red sausage and a pair of glowing plums.

Poor Joe! His face as red as his willy, his cheeks glowing like his dangling orbs, he was paraded blushing and completely nude past every girl in the company; and as passed the gasps turned to titters, the titters turned guffaws and the guffaws grew into howls of laughter.

Finally Angela stuck him under the emergency shower outside the front door, where the whole building could watch, and turned on the water.

As the first jet of freezing water struck his privates the relief was enormous. Joe looked up. The shower was in full view of every window in the building. And every window was jam packed with faces looking at him. Cold. Wet. Cringing. Completely nude.

It was humiliation. Total, complete, and utter. It was Angela's greatest triumph.

And she had the pictures. There was more money to be made out of him yet.

*************************

After his naked humiliation Joe could hardly bear to show his face round the office again. He had made up some story that he had spilt a cup of tea on his lap and in the panic to prevent it scalding Angela had rushed him to the emergency shower. Well cold water was the first aid treatment for scalds so it had seemed plausible enough. In any event people seemed to accept it. He had had to put in an accident report, and everyone had had a good laugh at the safety committee, and people tittered when he walked past, but that seemed to be an end to it.

Until.

Ping.

Joe looked at his email inbox. Another message from bloody Dr Sven. Well he'd tell him what he could do with his bloody ointment.

If Angela knew one thing about a good con trick it was this: when you have a sucker on the end of the line, you keep the sucker on the end of the line and you keep reeling him in. There was still plenty of fun to be had with this sucker.

Joe read the email with increasing alarm.

'Dear Mr J, I suppose you now realise that you have fallen for a scam! Are your private parts still glowing! I do hope so...'

Joe rubbed his plums gently, they hadn't fully recovered yet. He read on.

'... Well, I suppose you think that it is all over now. But of course it isn't. Dr Sven's Patented Ointment had very special properties. Quite the opposite of what is advertised. Very soon your private parts will start to shrink. Unless of course you apply Dr Sven's Patented Corrective Ointment. One jar is only £500. Prompt payment will ensure prompt dispatch and prompt treatment. And if you ask me nicely of course. Really nicely that is. A little begging wouldn't go amiss. And in case you're in any doubt prompt treatment is absolutely essential. Oh... And do send me a picture of your glowing privates. I would so like it for my collection. And don't think of going to the police or anything. I know some very public websites where I could post your pictures... And your name... And your address... With your driving licence of course..."

Joe grew more alarmed with each word. Angela had been right. It caused balls and willy to shrivel. And he had applied twice the dose! Thank God there was an antidote! He sent the £500 off straight away. It was worth every penny.

And he'd better email Dr Sven.

Angela read his email with barely suppressed laughter. He was begging the supposed Dr Sven for the ointment.

'Please Dr Sven, please send me the corrective ointment. I've sent the money. I don't want my privates to shrink. I've photographed them. Please keep the picture for your collection...' And so it went on grovelling and begging. She saved the photograph and uploaded it to her blog. Her followers were loving this.

Now to write a suitable reply.

Ping.

Joe opened the response from Dr Sven nervously.

'Dear Mr J, thank you so much for the payment and the photograph. I see the treatment had quite the desired effect. The shrinkage will commence shortly unless you apply the corrective ointment exactly according to the instructions that accompany the treatment. I suggest you measure your penis regularly to ensure that you are correctly following the rules of application'

Joe awaited the arrival of the tin of ointment anxiously. He tore it out of its packet and read the instructions.

1. Ensure that private parts are kept clean shaven.
2. Apply the ointment daily using the Swedish Application Method. (Any competent nurse should be able to do this for you).
3. Massage in thoroughly.'

Swedish Application Method! What on earth was that? Where would he find a nurse to apply it? He couldn't go to the hospital or the local surgery. It would be just too embarrassing. Then he remembered. Angela! Angela had said she was a nurse. She would tell him what to do.

Blushing with embarrassment he took the ointment and the email in to work and showed them to Angela. She smiled to herself. What a sucker! He'd believe anything you told him!

She put on her alarmed face.

"Quickly," she said, "we have to act quickly. Get your clothes off."

"What..."

"You heard. Get your clothes off. Swedish Application Method it says. You have to be in the nude for that. Get your clothes off."

And the sucker believed every word she said. Just as she knew he would.

Joe stood in front of her stark naked, his smooth shaved sausage and plums still bright red from the effect of the treatment. She put some of the cheap cold cream she was passing off as patented corrective ointment onto her fingers. She was going to enjoy this.

There was nothing quite like, thought Angela, massaging ointment into a nice soft squeezy pair of plums, then rubbing your fingers up and down his sausage, taking hold of his plums and...

"Ooooh!"

Joe let out an involuntary gasp. Angela had squeezed his dangling orbs and yanked them suddenly down.

"What was that for?"

"Swedish Application Method. It's an integral part of it."

"Of course. Yes. Do you have to do it again?"

"Once more..."

"Ooooh!"

Joe felt his balls yanked unceremoniously again.

"And and once again"

"Oooooooooh!"

This time it seemed to be harder than ever.

"That's it," said Angela, "for today."

"Do you er...”

"Do I er... What?"

"Have to... You know... Every time?"

"You mean squeeze your balls?"

"Well, yes..."

"Of course. It releases testosterone. Essential for the efficacy of the procedure."

"Well, yes, you must do it in that case....

What a sucker, thought Angela, he'd believe anything.

"The harder the better....," May as well try it on again.

And indeed Joe fell for it again, "You'd better squeeze really hard then."

"Perhaps once more today, just for one hundred percent efficacy."

Thoughts of his shrinking penis blotted out all other considerations. He had to have one hundred percent efficacy.

"Go ahead then," he said.

"Well, ask me nicely then. . .

"Of course. Please..."

"Please what..."

"Please squeeze my balls... Er... Really hard."

"Of course..."

Angela's hand grasped the soft round orbs again. She really liked the feel of them. She really liked to give them a really tight squeeze. They were so soft and vulnerable.

"There you go then."

"Oooooh!"

The sharp pull at the end always elicited that little squeak. What fun!

"Aren't you going to thank me then?"

"Of course. Thank you for squeezing my balls."

"No problem. The pleasure...," and for once she was telling the absolute truth, "...the pleasure was entirely mine.

Joe went to get dressed again, but Angela stopped him.

"Don't you think you'd better measure it?"

"Measure it?"

"Yes. To check it's not shrinking."

Joe hadn't thought of that.

"I suppose so. I'll er... Do it later..."

"Nonsense. You can't measure your own. I've a tape measure here. I can take an accurate measurement."

Poor Joe was in a quandary. It was really too embarrassing to have a girl measure his willy, but he didn't quite know how to say no.

"I suppose..."

"Good. Well go on then..."

"Sorry..."

"You'll have to get it up won't you? I can't measure it like that can I?"

"Oh right er...," this was getting more embarrassing than ever, but he just couldn't think of a way out of it, "How do I do that?"

"I would have thought you'd have known that! I think manual stimulation is the usual way."

"Manual stimulation?"

"Give it a wank! Come on. I haven't got all day," Angela, natural con artist as she was, knew that sometimes the victim needed a little pressure applying.

"With you watching!"

"It'll go up quicker that way. Believe me. And I am a nurse. It's nothing I haven't seen before."

Joe didn't stop to think precisely what line of duty required a nurse to watch such a performance; completely nude, embarrassed and ashamed he was totally under Angela's thumb. As Angela watched, a suspicious grin in her face, he took hold of his willy and...

"There, I told you as much," said Angela.

She placed the tape measure next to the erect member. Good God! No wonder he was so anxious to try the ointment.

"I thought you said it was average?"

"Well it is!"

"It's 9.8 centimetres. That's hardly average."

"That's within normal limits."

"If you say so... Here let me measure it again..."

In the outer office the girls had heard muffled voices and occasional loud squeak coming from the Boss's room. What were they up to in there? A large 'Do Not Disturb' sign had been put on the door. Denise thought they were probably having it off on the floor. Only one way to find out. Access the room security camera. Denise knew how. In a business like theirs every room had a security camera. And Denise knew everything. She pressed a few keys and the scene in the room popped up on her screen.

Inside the room Joe kept his cock vertical the only way he knew how, oblivious of the fact that in the outer office the girls were crowded round Denise's computer, watching every second, seeing every inch of his naked body, in amazingly clear detail.


**********************

The 'Do Not Disturb' sign was on the door again and Denise and the girls were watching proceedings with interest. Denise had projected the view from the security cameras onto the screen in the meeting room so that everyone got a good view.

Joe was standing naked in the middle of his office. Denise felt a little tingle between her legs. He looked rather sexy with nothing on and she was a bit susceptible to the slim boyish types with cute bums. She enjoyed seeing them naked. She watched fascinated as his penis rose to the upright position. It did so of its own accord now, anticipating what was to come. She didn't mind the fact that it was only a dinky one. In her experience, and it was a wide experience, dinky ones could often give you the best time. The ritual was starting again. Angela had her tape measure out.

Inside the room Joe nervously waited for Angela to pronounce the result. Angela knew what she was doing she could get the result to be anything she wanted just by a slight manipulation of the tape measure.

"Oh dear.. 9.5 centimetres," she said, "...it's gone down a bit again."

"Oh no!" Said Joe, his worst fear realised, "...perhaps if you pumped a bit harder!"

"I can give it a try," replied Angela, smearing his testicles with the cream and grasping them strongly in her clenched fist.

"Ooooh! Oooooh! Ooooh!"

Joe couldn't help gasping. He felt Angela rhythmically squeezing and tugging his balls, as she had done every day for a week now. And still his willy was shrinking! He gritted his teeth.

"Harder, you'd better go harder!"

"What a sucker!' Thought Angela as she pumped his balls rhythmically.

"Ask nicely," she said, "you forgot a little word."

"Please..." Said Joe gasping, "Please! Squeeze as hard as you can," Dr Sven had specifically advocated the importance of hard squeezing in his last message. The one where he had asked for another thousand pounds.

Angela squeezed as hard as she could. After all, when you had a sucker by the balls you kept a hold and you squeezed him. Hard. Literally and metaphorically.

Joe was desperate. His willy was still shrinking and his poor balls were suffering. In desperation he had written to Dr Sven again.

Ping.

The reply had come in.

"Dear Mr J, I'm afraid it appears that you exceeded the stated dose so this is really all your own fault. Your penis will continue to shrink to..."

Angela had thought hard about how small would drive him to the next stage.

"...to about two inches..."

Two inches! He would be a laughing stock...

"However a small payment of £5000 will be sufficient for me to send the ultimate antidote. I look forward to receiving this in due course..."

Five thousand. Joe gaped. That was the total sum of his savings and a bit more. It was too much. Perhaps if he kept up with the current treatment from Angela. Good old Angela! Not many secretaries would do that for their boss! He didn't know how to thank her enough. Perhaps when she measured it tomorrow?

"Nine centimetres," she pronounced, and Joe's heart sank. I didn't look any smaller but Angela's tape wouldn't lie. So he thought.

"I don't like to keep asking you," Joe stammered, but could you squeeze really really hard this time."

"I don't know," said Angela frowning, "perhaps if you asked me really really nicely."

"Please," said Joe."

"You'll have to do better than that. Say pretty please....

"Pretty please Miss Angela...," why was he calling her Miss Angela? It just seemed appropriate.

"Pretty please Miss Angela. Pretty please with pink knobs on. I must have my balls squeezed really hard. I must!"

"Well if you must...," said Angela, and as she felt those lovely soft round orbs in her hand she knew one thing. Joe was going to get the bollocking of his life.

"Ooooh! Ow ow ow! Ooooooh!"

The girls in the outer office hardly even needed the microphone they had installed to hear his shouts.

That evening Joe sat in front of his computer again staring at the latest message.

'The price has just gone up to ten thousand...,' the message read.

His trousers were down and he supported his testicles in his hand. They felt like two cannonballs after the pummelling they had received at the hands of Miss Angela. He couldn't go through that again. But ten thousand pounds. He knew he had no choice. It would max out his credit card, but what else could he do. He sent the money.

"Do you want squeezing again?" Angela was grinning expectantly.

Joe winced. His balls still felt like two overripe grapefruit.

"No," he stammered, "I sent for a new treatment. it doesn't involve squeezing." He breathed a sigh of relief.

"What does it involve then?"

"I don't know," poor Joe had been totally confused by the instructions, "It says 'Insert fundamentally'. What does that mean."

"Itmeans in the fundament silly."

Joe looked even more puzzled.

"I still don't understand."

"In the fundament. Up your bottom. That's what it means. You have to push it up your bottom."

"What!"

"Do I have to spell it out in words of one syllable! You shove it up your bum."

"But.. Have you seen the size of it!"

"It's the size of a cucumber. It'll go up easily."

"The size of a cucumber! Of course it's the size of a cucumber. It is a cucumber. It's one of those ridged ones."

He couldn't believe he'd paid ten thousand pounds for a cucumber, but as Dr Sven had said, he wasn't paying for the cucumber, he was paying for the knowledge that a cucumber (properly used) would reverse the effects of the treatment. And that of course was worth every penny.

"I think you'd better try the treatment," he was going to need some encouragement here.

"But I can't push it up my...," words failed him.

"I don't think you have a choice."

"Oh! I don't know."

"Well get your clothes off and I'll measure it again."

Joe did as he was told. Perhaps the ball squeezing would have helped.

"Eight centimetres,' pronounced. Angela. He definitely needed more encouragement.

Poor Joe didn't know how he would ever manage to push the cucumber up his bottom. Perhaps Angela... But no.. It would be too much to ask. But eight centimetres! It was shrinking faster than ever! He had no choice, he held up the cucumber. It looked really big.

"Perhaps you could?"

Angela dissembled reluctance.

"I don't know," she appeared to think for a while, "all right then. If you ask nicely."

Joe was desperate.

"Please Miss Angela. Pretty please Miss Angela."

"Kiss my feet and beg me."

He had no choice. He was down on his hands and knees in a flash begging her.

"Pretty please with pink knobs on."

She kicked off her shoes.

"Kiss my feet and suck my toes."

Joe had no option. Her toes were in his mouth one after the other.

"Good boy," she patted his head, "Well all right then."

Joe heaved an sigh of relief and made to get up.

"No stay where you are. Down on all fours and stick your bottom out!"

He obeyed at once. Angela couldn't repress a grin. What a sucker! What a twerp? What an arsehole!

She sat astride his back and examined his nicely exposed posterior fice. Yes! What an arsehole in more ways than one. It was perfect. Neat, pink and tight. She applied a little Fiery Jack to the cucumber. A little lubrication would help - but not too much. She was glad she'd got a nice big one. One of those ones with ridges along the edges.

The cameras in the office were perfectly placed for the girls outside to watch. One showing his face and one showing his bum. They'd see an arsehole and an arsehole, as Denise had so crudely put it - well she would wouldn't she. And they'd want to see his expression when it went up wouldn't they.

They did. Angela carefully positioned the cucumber.

"Relax!" She instructed.

Relaxation was the last thing on Joe's mind. Angela pushed.

"Waaaaaaaaah!"

It was a tight squeeze. Joe's face was a picture. Well, you'll have seen somebody's face when their having a cucumber pushed up their bottom, so you'll know what the expression was. Half way between horror and ecstasy. The girls in the office loved it.

"There you are," said Angela, "right in"

"Gosh," said Joe, "thank you Miss Angela. Can you take it out now?"

"I'm afraid not. It has to stay in all day."

"Why?"

"Because I say so!"

Joe had no option. When he did his tour of the office later that day he was walking in a very funny way. The girls knew why. But he didn't know they knew.

Joe looked dumbfounded at the instructions from Dr Sven that night. These were positively the last, it said. He should already have noticed an improvement from the cucumber treatment. If he had this would complete the effect and add further inches.

Inches!

He looked at the instructions again. They were bizarre. But he would have to do it. He would have to do it!

Angela couldn't believe she had found such a sucker. But there he was the next day with the ball of string in his hand, and the page if instructions she had sent. It was the culmination of her efforts. And just the day for it.

"Pretty please Miss Angela," he said, "pretty, pretty please. With pink knobs on."

And he was so delighted that she agreed. After he'd stripped naked and sucked her toes of course.

So there she is standing in front of her boss, tying the string in intricate knots (according to Dr Sven's, or should I say her own, detailed instructions) round his private parts, firmly, tightly, so that there is no escape. It is a work of loving care. She has him naked, tied by the balls on the end of a piece of string, and there is no getting away.

"There we go," she says, "are you ready?"

She opens the door to his office.

"Ready for what. Why have you opened the door. What are you doing?" Joe is dumbfounded. Dr Sven hadn't said there was anything else to do after tying him up.

"Showing you off to the girls in the office," she tugs gently on the string, pulling him towards the door.

"But Dr Sven..."

"Haven't you realised yet. There isn't any Dr Sven! At least there is. I'm Dr Sven."

She points at the calendar.

"Haven't you seen the date!"

Joe looks. It is April 1st. Oh no!

"April Fool!" Cries Angela, pulling on the string again, "Come on. We need to parade today's April Fool round the office. In the nude!"

"But... But.."

It is no use. He is well and truly tied. Angela tugs on the string. The string tugs on his privates. And he is off!

Out into the office. Past the cheering girls. Completely nude. Pulled by the balls. And there is nothing he can do about it. Once round. Twice round. Three times round. Along the corridor and back, round the building.

Everybody sees him. Everybody cheers. It is the best April Fool prank the office has ever seen. Total nude humiliation of the boss.

Joe was mortified. When he got home that night his face was still red. Fancy being taken for an April Fool. But then, it was a good April Fool prank. He had to admit that. And being pulled round the office completely nude by a piece of string tied round his genitalia wasn't too humiliating was it? It wouldn't really dent his authority would it? After all had given him a chance to show he was a boss who could take a joke in good spirit.

There were more important things to consider.. He had his ruler out and had measured himself. Nine and a half centimetres. The treatment had worked!

He picked up his phone and dialled a number.

"Pretty please Miss Angela, with pink knobs on," he said, "could you come over and bring a cucumber," but perhaps it wasn't that that had done it "...and a ball of string