Up on the wall.

At first, I had thought that Dr. Owens' son had some form of skin-based ailment that required him to be attended to underneath her practice, but when I entered into that room, I found myself quite mistaken.

Instead, he been strung up against the Wall, entombed by binding upon binding, with only his groin, ears, and lower face exposed. In the room was a Table with Beakers, Cups, clean Bandages, and other surgical implements that made a nervous chill travel down my spine. His breath, and mine, did nothing but add to the dank and humid air. The smell of sweat and other human liquids assaulted my nose, but Dr. Owens seemed unfazed by it as she approached. "Mother? Is it time again?" the body upon the Wall said, his head turning as far as it's wrappings allowed. "Wait... I can hear someone else with you. Who is it? Elizabeth? Is that you?"

There was a twinge in Dr. Owen's face when he mentioned that name, as if she was angered or annoyed by it. "Yes Amos, it's that time again," she replied coolly, reaching out towards his turgid cock, that dripped seed eagerly.

Her fingernail scraped against it and he let out a hiss. "Oh good. Good. It, it was, it was becoming unbearable again, Mother," he sighed with relief in his voice, a visible shiver coming through his wrappings.

That relief became a pained grunt as Dr. Owens took a firm grip around the base of his cock. "Why did you think it was Elizabeth with me, Amos?" she stated, a deep frown on her brow. "Has she been coming down here?"

Another grunt as she squeezed even harder. "No, no Mother!" he protested, his head thrown back as he endured her hand. "It's just the only logical conclusion! Who else could it be?"

Dr. Owens' studied him evenly before her grip relaxed and he fell forwards into his bindings, panting heavily. "You're right. You're right, my boy. I'm sorry," she sighed, before getting on her toes and kissing him chastely on the lips. "I love you, Amos. Will you forgive your mother for her jealousy again?"

"Always, Mother. But if that isn't Elizabeth with you, then who is it?"

"Oh right!" she exclaimed, turning aside and gesturing towards me, as if he could see. "Amos, this is Mr. Devon McKay, Mr. Gottlieb's guest. Mr. McKay, my son and lover, Amos."

"How do you do, Mr. Amos?" I replied, wary of the shift in temperament I had just seen. Not to mention that I was still addressing a man strapped to a Wall.

"How do you do, Mr. McKay?" he returned with an honest smile, looking in my general direction. "I would extend a hand to shake, but I'm afraid I haven't the liberty at the moment."

"Yes... about that..." I mused, making my confusion quite plain on my face. Gesturing to the scene before me, I asked, "could um, could one of you elaborate as to the current state of affairs?"