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WARNING: This story deals with extreme themes, in
particular abduction, objectification and extreme, nonconsensual body
modification. If you are offended by
such themes please DO NOT read further.
This story is offered as
an erotic fantasy for adults only. If
you feel any inclination or compulsion to perform acts such as described here
on a real person, please seek professional counselling!
---------------------------------------------------
When the girl woke up she
first thought the bright light in her eyes was the Sun, shining through the
window of her bedroom as it did on so many blue-skied mornings. Then she became aware of the pain. Not sharp, stabbing pain, but a deep slow
burning and soreness that came from points all over her body. The pain brought her almost fully awake and
she realized the light in her eyes was not the Sun.
She was on her back,
laying not in her bed but on something firmer, and staring up into a
constellation of floodlights. After a
moment of disorientation - she had difficulty clearing her head - her last
waking memory returned to her. It was
dark. She was walking from her dorm to
the college pool for morning practice in the black quiet hours before
dawn. Suddenly she heard a noise, and as
she turned strong hands grasped her.
More than two hands. A
foul-smelling cloth was clamped over her face and even as she remembered to
scream her vision faded....
And now she lay on what
felt like a padded table, staring up into the lights. She felt air on her skin and realized she was
naked, but the room was warm enough that she did not feel cold. She tried to raise her head, but found it was
restrained by a band across her forehead.
The back of her head sat in a sculpted headrest, and the simple
combination of cup and strap held her head securely enough that she was
prevented even from turning it from side to side. She tried to raise her arms but they did not
respond. Her arms just tingled faintly -
she felt no restraints on them but they wouldn't respond. The effort served only to awaken fresh,
jangling pain in her shoulders. Across
her torso and legs she felt many rigid bands.
When she tried to twist within their grasp, to test their strength, she
felt strangely weak. Her body was slow
to answer her commands, sluggish, and moved without the power she was
accustomed to feeling as an athletic young woman, a top diver on her college
team. Feeling oddly detached, she
wondered why she hadn't panicked in the midst of this nightmare. Was it a nightmare? No, she didn't think so. It just felt dreamy. Her mind was moving as slowly as her
body. She had been drugged.
Fighting the cobwebs that
she could not quite sweep from her mind, she took in her surroundings. The bands held her unyieldingly, but not
uncomfortably. She guessed they were of
padded metal. Her firm buttocks were
cradled in seat or saddle that fitted her closely so that, as with the
headrest, a few strategic bands across the front of her hips and the tops of
her thighs held her pelvic area securely.
Her private area was exposed to the air, and felt somehow odd. Above her, the floodlights hung from a flat
white ceiling. In their midst and
directly above her head a video screen was mounted, facing down at her. The screen was dark but a small green light
glowed at the edge nearest her toes, and what looked like a tiny camera
sprouted from the opposite edge and pointed down at her. Rolling her eyes as far as she could to all
sides, she could see all four walls of her little room, at least their upper
portions, and they were white. To the
right she could see the top of a doorframe, with a white metal door standing
closed within. From the left side of her
table, near her feet, a shiny metal rod rose, and from it hung a plastic bag
filled with clear liquid. A thin clear
tube dangled from the bag - she was on an IV.
Next to the rod she could see the top of a strange box that might have
been medical equipment of some kind.
Was she in a
hospital? Had she had an accident? No, she remembered the attack. Maybe she had been kidnapped, but rescued,
and was in a hospital now. Then why the
restraints, why was she naked? She tried
to envision some explanation for these things that did not fill her with dread. Finally her drug-hobbled mind admitted that
her ordeal - whatever its nature - must be just beginning rather than
ending. She closed her eyes and cried
quietly.
After a time the tears
ebbed. Being unable to raise her head to
see herself the girl concentrated on reading the signals sent from the various
parts of her body. She seemed at first
to be covered in pain, but as she listened carefully to her body she could feel
exactly where she had been injured. The
pain was concentrated in her feet, her shoulders, her abdomen, and her
chest. Her feet hurt the worst, and were
splinted or perhaps encased in plaster casts, with her toes pointing straight
away from her head. She felt what might
have been gauze dressings on her shoulders.
She tried again and still couldn't move her arms, or gain any real
sensation from them, as though they had fallen asleep. Maybe her arm straps had been fixed too
tight, cutting off the circulation? Her
breasts made burning complaints, and she felt a sharper pain at their bottoms
where the soft little mounds joined her ribcage. A strange weight seemed to press on her
chest, as though her breasts were somewhat heavier than before. In her abdomen, she felt a strange
combination of swelling and emptiness, not like hunger, and a deep soreness
that seemed to penetrate her very core.
The quiet was suddenly
shattered by the sound of the door opening and the clack of leather-soled
footsteps on a hard floor. After the
quiet time since her awakening, which had lasted she knew not how long, the
everyday sounds were as startling as gunfire.
"Hello!" said a
pleasant voice, and the face of a dark haired, middle-aged, spectacled man
moved into her field of vision. He was
wearing a white coat, and seemed familiar with the place as he looked quickly
at the medical equipment and at a chart which had been hanging at the side of
her bed. "You'll have to excuse me
for keeping you waiting, I was attending another subject when I'd heard you'd
awakened. I'm sure you have many
questions."
The girl tried to speak,
but her mouth felt even more sluggish than the rest of her body. Her jaw felt stiff and her tongue flopped
like dead meat, and the only sound that came from her lips sounded like
"gullll." The man chuckled.
"I didn't expect you
to actually ask questions. As
part of your recovery regimen you have been given powerful drugs that I know
make it difficult to speak. But I can
guess some of the things you'd like to know." He adjusted his glasses and lapsed into a
scripted and familiar delivery.
"Where are you? You are in a private and exclusive clinic
specializing in body and behavior modification.
The precise location is unimportant.
Our primary business is the procurement, development, and training of
custom pleasure companions for a wealthy international clientele."
"Who am I? I am the specialist in charge of your
development. You may think of me as your
doctor."
"Why are you
here? You were selected because of
certain physical and tempermental characteristics that make you a promising subject
for our work here. Let's
see..." he flipped through the
pages of the chart, which was clipped into a hinged aluminum case and included
paper forms, photographs, even x-rays.
"Age, 20 - that's ideal.
Physically mature but far enough removed from the effects of age to make
investment in your modifications worthwhile. Your personality shows a high
level of sexual curiosity, natural submissiveness, and
suggestability." The doctor looked
up from the chart. "Do you remember
that funny hypnotist who brought his act to your campus, put you under so
easily and made you do all those silly things I'm sure your friends keep
teasing you about? He was one of our
scouts."
"Physically you
possess excellent skin clarity and tone, which being the most difficult thing
to correct is the one real requirement for subjects here. Ethnicity: caucasian, Mediterranean
subgroup. Eyes: brown. Hair: auburn and naturally curly. That's cute, we'll see if you get to keep
it. Height: 159 cm - on the short side
but within desireable parameters.
Hip-to-waist ratio 1.6...that's a very good number!" He made eye
contact and smiled, making clear that this odd reference to her hips - which
she considered embarrassingly broad - was a compliment. "Your shoulder span is wider than average
and your spine straight and healthy, with well developed musculature, so you
are a fine candidate for a mammary maximization program."
He was going much too fast
for the girl's impaired brain to absorb all he said, but she was increasingly
horrified by the tone he used as he spoke about her body - as though she were a
project rather than a patient, an object without thoughts or feelings of her
own. If she had stuck with her original
major of psychology, she might have recognized that this objectification and
frank discussion of her situation were intended to demonstrate the clinic's
complete control over her, and to begin the systematic undermining of her
identity.
"What have we done to
you?" The "doctor"
continued, adjusting his glasses again as he returned to the chart. "Well, quite a bit actually. You've been under sedation here at the clinic
for 4 days, during which we have done most of the heavier work in developing
you for your new role as an 'fantasy' pleasure companion. It's dangerous to keep you under for much
longer than that, so we've allowed you to awaken while keeping you on a high
dosage of muscle relaxants, tranquilizers, and some pain blockers. Otherwise, you might thrash about and cause unsightly
scarring at the sites of your recent procedures....which we wouldn't want,
would we? And of course it is easier for
everyone if you remain compliant while we perform the remainder of the
procedures that have been ordered."
"In terms of what
we've done so far: one of our talented surgeons has narrowed your feet, for
aesthetic appeal, and reinforced them with titantium rods to facilitate walking
'en pointe' - like a ballerina - without dislocating your toes or turning your
ankles. There is some loss of
flexibility with this procedure: when you stand, your heels will no longer be
able to touch the ground. It's high
heels or tippy-toes for you from now on, my girl!"
"Your mammary
enhancement is well underway, using a procedure developed right here at the
clinic. Your natural bust, 36C, was a
little larger than average for your build, but we can do much better. Our surgeon has removed most of the fatty
tissue in your breasts and implanted highly elastic polymer sacs. Now we will inject, at intervals, a solution
into the sacs, through ports installed in your armpits. You've had two courses of injections already,
while you slept. As the sacs are
inflated, they will stretch your breasts, and we will give you oral and topical
supplements to encourage the growth of new skin. Don't worry, it's all scheduled so there will
be a minimum of stretch marks, we know what we're doing. When we have grown your breasts to the
ordered size, which is, let me see..." He flipped through the chart again.
"10,000 CCs.... oh
my!" he laughed. "Well, you do have the skeletal structure to carry
that. When we've expanded you to within
80% of that point we'll make a final injection of a small amount of catalyst
that will cause the liquid to expand to the ordered volume and stiffen into a
soft, slightly foamy plastic. The final
look and feel will be quite similar to natural breasts - except that since the
foam is a little less dense than natural tissue, and the sacs add resilience,
your breasts will resist gravity somewhat better than home-grown breasts of
similar size. Then the valves in your
armpits will be removed and the wounds closed."
Through the shock and
drug-induced fog the girl latched onto the number "10,000 CCs," and
tried to understand what that meant. She
had always been good with metric conversions....1,000 CCs in a liter, 10
liters.... a liter is just a little bigger than a quart, so....more than two
and a half gallons? And was that
the total volume he intended for both breasts, or was that for...each?!?
The doctor was droning
on. "...lower abdomen, and we'll
probably do more lipo at a few other points later. We've enhanced your already fine hip-to-waist
ratio by removing about half your small intestine, which you won't need on your
new diet, and tucking in your abdominal muscles here and there. After the swelling goes down you'll probably
be around 1.8 or a little better, even before we begin the corset
training. You have the potential to
become a truly spectacular specimen in that department. And we've helped that H-to-W even further,
while preventing the usual female issues from posing inconveniences in your
planned role, by performing a hysterectomy.
No more messy periods, or mood swings, or worries about getting
pregnant. We did it arthroscopically,
via the vagina, so there are no external scars." The doctor sounded proud. The girl began to cry again.
"We've also
made," he looked quickly at her groin, then bent to examine the dressings
at her shoulders, "some other modifications that are currently fashionable
amongst certain of our clientele..."
The girl didn't hear the
last part, having given way finally to a sedated despair at learning that her
womanhood had been excised. At first she
didn't believe it, but as she tuned her senses to her abdomen she knew it was
true: in the midst of the swelling and soreness from the surgery was a profound
hollowness.
Sexually curious? Was he calling her a slut? She wasn't a virgin, but she was a nice
girl. She didn't want to be an
"fantasy pleasure companion!"
She wanted to find a husband someday, have a family....
Had wanted to. Tears poured from the corners of her brown
eyes, closed again now against the brightness of the lights on the ceiling, and
little whines escaped her nearly paralyzed mouth.
The doctor stopped his
dissertation and looked down at her with a frown that might, for a moment, have
indicated pity. Then he sighed, and
turned, and left her field of vision briefly.
Through her physical and emotional agony she heard a chorus of metallic
rattles, as the doctor wheeled a stool and a small cart to the head of her
table.
"Well, there's
nothing to do about it now," he said.
"Perhaps you'll come to see the advantages eventually. Meanwhile, we still have a lot of work to
do."
Just out of the girl's
view, the doctor donned some light plastic gauntlets, then snapped white latex
gloves over them. He spoke into a small
microphone clipped to his coat:
"Nurse twelve, bring a set of oral restraints and a suction unit to
room G. And let Thirty-two know she's earned 2 demerits by not having them here
ready for me."
The "doctor"
hummed a little tune while he fidgeted with some equipment, outside the
restrained girl's field of vision. Then
he turned and rolled his stool over to look into her face.
"I know you've been
properly hydrated but your mouth is probably very dry after being on the
IV. Let me wet it for you."
He broke the seal on a
plastic bottle and poured sterile water over a stack of small gauze pads. Once they were soaked, he held the dripping
wad in front of the still weeping girl's mouth and raised his eyebrows at
her. With some difficulty she spread her
jaws and the doctor began to swab around her lips and inside her mouth. It felt wonderful; she hadn't realized how
dry she had been. She wondered whether
she should be grateful for this small kindness, though it came from her captor,
a man who had disfigured her against her will.
It was all very confusing. She
remembered one of the things he had said about her profile: "naturally
submissive." She closed her eyes in
shame.
"That's better
now. I need to keep you on the IV a bit
longer, since with the dosage of muscle relaxants you're on you might choke if
I gave you any volume of water orally.
But I don't want your tongue or other tissues to be too dry - that would
increase the irritation and bleeding from the procedures we still need to
do."
The girl realized the
doctor's actions had nothing to do with kindness. Moistening her lips and mouth had been
intended only to serve his needs, as he converted her into some kind of
freakish living Barbie. She scowled, as
best she could. She should have bitten
him.
She couldn't know that
under his latex gloves he wore plastic armor on his fingers. One of his purposes had been to test her
readiness to submit. He looked down at
her furrowed brow and angry stare, and smiled.
"What, giving me the evil eye?
We'll put a stop to that soon enough."
The door opened with a
bang and another cart rattled into the room, followed by a new set of
footsteps. The nurse entered and moved
toward the foot of the table, pushing her cart, so that the bound girl's first
view of her was from behind. She was
wearing what appeared to be the traditional white uniform, but with a shiny
black garment underneath. A glistening dark sheath hid the flesh of her neck,
and descended into a white fabric uniform blouse. The arms that projected from the short
sleeves of the blouse were likewise clad in shiny black rubber or plastic,
slightly baggy to allow movement. The
table-bound girl did not see any hair behind the pointy white cap. The nurse glided across the floor with quick,
short steps that clicked on the hard floor.
She disappeared momentarily as she bent to pick some equipment up off
the cart. When she turned and carried it
toward the doctor near the head of the table, the restrained girl finally
caught a glimpse of her face. The
thought occurred to her suddenly that her abductors might be space aliens.
Under her cap, the
attendant's face was covered by a shiny black mask. Large convex mirrored lenses covered the
eyes, hiding them completely. The lower
part of the mask projected slightly, and might have enclosed a short snout just
as easily as a human face. There was no
obvious nose opening, but a skinny black
donut projected in front of where a human mouth would be. A metallic mesh was recessed into the hole in
the donut, closing it, and through this port a faint gasp of air could be heard
passing in and out.
After all the shocks she
had suffered since her awakening, the girl still somehow found the nurse the
most terrifying thing that she had yet encountered. Her eyes widened and nerves fired all over
her body, as her flesh rose in goose pimples and her muscles tensed against the
unyielding bands.
The doctor was less
alarmed by the nurse's entrance.
"Yes, Twelve, right there is fine.
Now check the subject's catheters while I set up the restraints. I think she's due for a purge."
The nurse did not speak or
nod but clicked smoothly toward the foot of the table, out of the terrified
girl's field of vision. In a moment she
felt rubbery fingers brushing the insides of her slightly spread thighs. There was a sudden tug that seemed to reach
right into her, to her bladder, followed by a slight burning that was no doubt
dulled by her pain blockers. Then
another tug that pulled directly on her bowel.
Between the drugs and all her more pressing concerns the girl hadn't
really noticed them before, but after this demonstration she became aware of
unfamiliar intrusions in her urethra and anus.
The nurse must have
signalled to the doctor, as he gave further orders while fiddling with some
kind of complicated chrome bracket.
"OK, do a urine dump, then a 500 CC colonic."
The nurse must have opened
a valve, as the girl suddenly felt an easing of what had been mild pressure in
her bladder. Her pee flowed silently out
of her, apparently through a tube into a receptacle somewhere. It was a very odd sensation, to be deprived
of any control over such a basic and private function. She blushed again as her terror faded,
overruled by humiliation.
The doctor bent over her
to fix the strange bracket to the table, next to her mouth. As he picked up a similar device from the
cart and fiddled with it, the girl felt a rush of cool liquid into her
bowel. It continued until she felt
slightly bloated, but not yet uncomfortable.
Her guts began to churn slightly as the liquid sloshed within.
"That's not water,
it's a mild cleansing solution, so you may feel some cramping. But it will keep you clean and
healthy." The doctor spoke
absently, as he mounted the second bracket next to her mouth, opposite the
first. The shiny articulated arms were
shaped like double-Ls, with many curved projections and knobs. The inner ends groped like sinister robotic
fingers toward the corners of the girl's mouth.
The first mild cramps hit
as the doctor spoke again. "OK, now
open your mouth again for me." The
girl had no illusions this time that the doctor's intentions were merciful, and
clamped her lips as she stared at the ceiling.
She felt his eyes on her but focused on the blank video screen that hung
above her, fighting the urge to meet the doctor's gaze. The only sound she heard was the raspy breath
of the nurse, out of view somewhere near the foot of the table.
[...]
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