On the Table

CONTENT WARNING:  This is an erotic horror story dealing in extreme themes such as abduction, non-consensual sexual activity and body modification, objectification, and what might be called torture.  It is intended as pure fantasy for the enjoyment of ADULTS ONLY.  Please do not repost this story to any site frequented by minors, or remove this warning.

 

THANKS to Alex Streuth, Ted E. Bear, H. Dean, the Mayor, and the many others who have taken the time to offer encouragement and suggestions that have made this story better than I could have alone.

BF

 

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Ruta allowed her teary charge no time for moping over the realization that her arms had been reduced to fashion accessories.  After replacing the helmet and collar she stood the girl up and they concluded their first therapy session with a walk around the perimeter of the PT room.

 

Sturdy handrails framed a walkway that circled the gym, but they were useless to the modified prisoner.  Ruta walked behind her, guiding and bracing her with her hands, offering encouragements but always nudging her forward.  The girl was forced to focus on her feet in order to stay upright on the toe-shoes, and as they walked her shoulders-back, tip-toed gait continued to improve.  As she became steadier Ruta showed her how to stride more smoothly by swinging her wide hips.

 

When they made the turn to walk along the back of the room the girl again saw the hard-working pony, who continued jogging on the inclined treadmill.  A long silky tail erupted from just above her tight muscular butt to bounce in time with her stride.  But something else was wrong.... the pony's arms were not bound behind her back, but were missing completely.  Her shoulders ended in smooth curved bumps; as the girl passed close behind she could not see any scars.  She wondered if this could be a birth defect, before remembering that she herself had been born with healthy arms, not to mention ten toes.  She shivered with fear and revulsion.  Was there no barbarity that was beyond her captors?  She closed her eyes and felt her way with her toes as Ruta guided her past the humming treadmill.

 

"Pony always running now," the chatty amazon said behind her.  "Big race soon, and show.  Our clinic win many show ribbons, maybe this pony win race too.   Good luck, pony!  We all root for you!"  From behind them came a strange sound, like a high-pitched and muffled whinny of a horse.

 

Finally Ruta and her charge completed the circuit and stood by the wide double doors.

 

"Very good, dear.  You walk so pretty!  Now, we take you back to your room to rest....Yes, you must.  No other bed for you while you stay here."  She pushed the wall plate that opened the doors, and they started back down the long corridor.

 

When they were about halfway along, one of the several swinging doors they'd passed opened with a bang.  The girl heard the soft squeak of a wheel in need of grease, and male voices.

 

"O-R 1, did they say?"

 

"No, number 2.  I think they changed it.  Excuse us Ruta, priority traffic!"

 

Ruta used her fingertips to guide her charge to the side of the hallway, where the mismatched pair stood with their backs to the wall.  Two white-clad orderlies wheeled a gurney through one of the side doors and down the corridor in their direction.  Rotating her head within the padded collar the girl saw the patient on the wheeled stretcher was a blonde, her legs elevated and spread by stirrups mounted to the gurney rails.  She was draped with a white sheet that bloused up over her breasts and hung like a tent over her raised legs, leaving only her head and bare feet visible.  As the side door swung shut behind the gurney the girl caught a whiff of an odd smell - fresh air.

 

The orderlies resumed their conversation:

 

"Some of these clients, you gotta wonder.  They spend all this money - you think they'd read the fuckin' manual."

 

"Yeah."

 

"I think this's the third time for this guy, that I know of.  First he wants to use this cunt to warm his sake..."

 

"You gotta admit, that was inspired!"

 

"OK, but they make smaller bottles.  Then the pineapple, and now this..."

 

As the gurney approached, the girl looked down at its passenger.  Framed by bright golden kielbasa curls, a pretty but ash-gray face stared still and wide-eyed at the ceiling passing by overhead.  An oxygen mask covered her mouth and nose.  As the gurney rolled past the girl could see that the sheet underneath the blonde was stained with blood.  Between her raised legs and poking out from under the drape was the drooping silver tail of a good-sized fish.

 

"I'm no surgeon," the irritated orderly continued, "but I know even Doctor B. can only rebuild a cunt so many times.  I bet he has to go to a prosthesis after this."

 

"Don't get worked up," his partner offered calmly.  "It's the client's cunt, he paid for it.  It's none of our business what he wants to stuff up there.  Repairs are just more coin for the clinic, anyway.  Stuff like this isn't covered by warranty."

 

"I guess." The first orderly paused for a moment, then chuckled. "Maybe I just get pissed off cause shit like this reminds me of my big brother breaking my toys when I was a kid!"

 

The orderlies shared a little laugh as they and the gurney disappeared through another door at the far end of the hall.

 

The girl stared at the closing door for a moment, in shock.  Her ridiculous spherical tits and "decorative" arms, the mutilated pony, and now this abomination...  It was all too surreal to be actually happening.  She had to be dreaming!

 

Ruta tapped her on the shoulder.  "OK, let's go, almost home."  Her mind torn between denial and dread, the girl allowed herself to be guided the last few steps to her room.

 

When they entered she saw the "table" waiting for her in the vertical position, just as they'd left it.  The many restraining bands hung open, like arms inviting an embrace.  When she looked into the sculpted slings that had supported her body she felt something like a gravitational attraction.

 

But then her attention was drawn to a new piece of equipment standing by the wall.  It was a beefily-framed steel box four feet high, two long and only eight inches wide at the top.  It stood on heavy casters, and cigar-shaped tanks like those used to hold pressurized gases were mounted on its sides.  The box was topped with a strange piece of machinery: a pair of black cylinders mounted horizontally, one above the other, plumbed with shiny steel lines and studded with knobs, and gauges.

 

What was this? the girl wondered.  Was it time for the final step in her breast enlargement, the last inflation that would turn the liquid plastic filling her new orbs into bubbly foam?

 

"OK, back to the table," Ruta said gently as she dropped her hands for a moment and moved around to face her subject.

 

"Nnnnnnnh!"  Without thinking the gagged girl seized the moment of freedom and stepped back.  But she was not ready yet to make such sudden moves, and caught a rubber-shod toe on the tile floor.  She staggered backwards, knocked her helmeted head against the wall and slid to the floor, jarring her tailbone while the sloshing melons on her chest bounced painfully.

 

Ruta's puffy face darkened as she stared down at the helpless girl, her huge hands on her hips.  "Now sudden you want make trouble.  I warn you, remember.  Now, get up."

 

For a moment they locked eyes.  Ruta's stare was cold and frightening.  At first the girl still cast her eyes around the room wildly seeking, irrationally, to flee.  But quickly the futility of the notion became clear to her, and she lowered her head.  After a moment she struggled to get her feet under her, but with her useless arms and the toe-shoes it seemed impossible.  After some whining exertions her butt still rested on the floor, and she looked up at the amazonian therapist for help.

 

"So you need Ruta's help, yes?  OK, I help you."  The thick bear's paws reached down and clutched the phony swollen tits, strong short-nailed fingers digging in behind the aureolas and dragging her upwards.  "Up you come!"

 

"Aaaah!" The girl whimpered but quickly found the means to get her feet under her and take the load off her abused jugs.  Leaning against the wall she pressed down on her toes until she stood again, while the huge woman still clutched her nipples. The girl looked up into the face she'd thought of almost as a friend's, feeling betrayed and suddenly, utterly, alone.

 

"I warn you about trouble.  You good girl, no make Ruta punish you.  I no like to punish.  But I have job, and no silly girl make Ruta look bad."  She stared for a moment into the frightened eyes, then suddenly smiled again.  "OK, we forget it!  Now, to the table." 

 

Still holding the girl by the nipples, but more gently now, the green-smocked giant guided the shuffling feet until her charge stood with her back against the webs.  The first band she closed was the one across the upper chest, above the hanging jugs.  After the headband was resecured and as Ruta fastened the many restraints one by one across her torso and legs, the girl noticed shiny steel projecting from behind her head and past her face.  While she'd been in therapy the oral restraints had been remounted.

 

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Ruta had removed the helmet and collar and was closing the last arm bands when the door banged open and two familiar sets of footsteps entered.  The developer spoke cheerfully as always.

 

"So, how was the first real therapy session?"

 

"Very good, herr doctor.  She learn walk fast, and flexibility very good for so soon.  No problem to report."  Ruta shot the bound girl a quick smiling glance, as if she were keeping a secret.

 

"Excellent.  The custom mod orders for our girl have come in, and we're going to move right ahead with them.  Here's a copy for you."  He handed a thin binder to the big therapist, who began flipping through it.  "We have some time before she goes under again, so after you review the orders let me know what you can get done with her between now and the surgeries."

 

"OK, yes, I will.  I leave her to you now.  Bye dear!  Be good with doctor, soon you be most pretty girl!"  Ruta smiled once more and thumped out the door on her sneakers.

 

"Now," the doctor spoke to the bound and gagged girl as he flipped through the small binder.  "We have some very exciting changes in store for you.  Your new master is interested in the newest technology, so there's a long list of the most advanced mods here.  The eye treatment he's selected was only proven last year.  He's ordered a full set of our latest oral mods for you, including 'gills' and the XDT port.  Your breast expansion will continue as planned but an interesting nipple treatment has been added.  He excited about our new 'invisible corset,' and with your high starting hip-to-waist ratio you're a natural for that treatment.  He's also asked for the hot button programming, and..."

 

He looked up from the binder.  "Never mind, I'm sure this is Greek to you.  Trust me that you're going to emerge from this development as a remarkable, state-of-the-art companion."

 

"There's one thing you should be able to understand, though: your master has picked a name for you.  He's a bit of a romantic, I think, and based on your heritage and coloration he fancies you his harem girl.  From this moment on, you are Jasmine.  Though you must also respond to Doll, or Dolly."

 

Above her gag the girl blinked brown eyes at the developer.  Surely, morning must be coming soon.  She waited eagerly for the sound of the alarm clock, and looked forward to telling her friends about this incredible nightmare.

 

"The invasive procedures will have to wait until the surgical team is next assembled - we only get everyone together when we have several projects ready for them to work on - but we can get started now with some of the simpler adjustments."

 

The masked robotic nurse had entered along with the doctor, and while he'd spoken of changes to come she'd busied herself about the new machine.  The restrained girl had watched with curious unease as the black-clad attendant screwed onto the upper of the two horizontal cylinders a shiny, 18 inch long metal shaft tipped with a miniature black football.  A thin hose was coiled around the shaft; the black-gloved hands connected it to a fitting on the machinery.  Now as the doctor finished speaking the nurse approached, holding an electric clipper.

 

Oh no! the helpless girl thought. He said I might not keep my hair!

 

The doctor moved behind the girl and popped the catches, laying her out flat.  The lower part of the table split again, opening her legs silently.  With a buzz the nurse began shaving away the captive's already short-cropped pubic hair.  The doctor pushed another lever, and the girl's arms were splayed wide until she lay spread under the lights like a starfish.  The nurse moved to her side and began shaving her armpits. 

 

While the doctor continued his own preparations  retrieved a jar of cream from the wall cabinet.  With firm circular motions she rubbed the cream into the girl's shaved armpits and mound.  In a moment the sites warmed with a chemical heat.  The bound arms were adjusted downward again, so that they angled out from the girl's body at about 30 degrees.

 

When she was done applying the cream the nurse inserted the catheter and enema tubes, and inflated the small balloons that held them in place.

 

"Double-check those plugs, Twelve, we don't want a mess."  The obedient assistant tugged again at the catheter and anal waste tubes, then swabbed the plumbed captive's outstretched arm with alcohol as the doctor stood by holding a needle-tipped syringe. 

 

"I'm going to give you a tranquilizer, and a muscle relaxant.  I think you'll see it's for the best."  He bent and administered the injection.  As he and the nurse continued their preparations the girl felt her muscles softening under their restraints.

 

After a moment the doctor rolled on his stool next to the girl's head, and the nurse positioned a tool-filled cart next to him. Twisting the knob on the rubber mouthguard he drew it from his subject's jaws, which snapped shut behind it.

 

"Come on Jasmine, open your mouth."

 

He held a rubber wedge before the girl's face, and grinned for a moment at her smiling refusal.  The moment he brushed the wedge against her lips she opened as if to suck on it.  Quickly he pushed the wedge between her teeth, propping her jaw open.

 

Dammit! She cursed herself silently as he swung the steel fingers of the oral restraints into her mouth.  Did she have any control over herself anymore?

 

In a few minutes the girl's mouth was spread wide again by the shining arms, her lower jaw clamped and her entire head pushed back rigidly into the headrest.  The developer removed the now redundant rubber wedge and presented her with the tongue forceps.

 

"You know the routine.  But control yourself this time; don't make me knock you out completely for a little dental work."

 

With a whine of symbolic protest the groggy prisoner offered her tongue, which the developer quickly grasped and stretched until the grommeted piercing slipped over the steel hook on her chin.  From the cart he produced a skinny 5 inch long rubber tube, flared at one end and glistening along its length with lubricating gel.  With a smooth motion he slipped the narrow end of the tube up the girl's nostril, and fed it in until the flared end pressed against the bottom of her nose and she tasted rubber at the top of her throat.  Then he fitted a diaphragm into the back of the gaped mouth, well behind her teeth.

 

The acrid scent and taste of rubber overwhelmed the girl’s senses.  She could breathe only through her nose, and the tube that ensured her airway. 

 

Next, the developer drew from the cart a curved plastic nozzle that trailed a clear tube; he flipped a switch on the cart and the nozzle made an sucking sound.  He hung the suction tube at the corner of the stretched mouth, where it slurped up the girl's copious saliva noisily.

 

"Now let's take care of those teeth."

 

The prisoner shivered under the hot lights.  She hated visits to the dentist in any case, but the addition of the macabre restraints made this almost too much to bear, even with the tranquilizer.  She closed her eyes and waited for the poking and scraping to begin, hoping he wouldn't drill.

 

The developer reached into the girl’s spread mouth with a plier-like tool, grasped an upper front incisor firmly in its serrated jaws and wrenched it from her gum.  He dropped the perfect white tooth into a steel spittoon with a clink, and had pulled its twin to the left before the girl even understood what was happening.  Her eyes snapped open and she made a long mourning wail, which was muffled by the rubber oral dam.

 

"Oh, stop it," the developer admonished as he wrenched out a cuspid.  "Unless you want me to have Twelve give you something to cry about?"

 

The wail fell to a whimper that continued as he worked his way around her mouth, grasping, wrenching, throwing away.  She tasted blood, and the suction tube gurgled loudly.  The pain was bad enough, but to the trapped victim every clink of another tooth in the steel bowl sounded like a nail in her coffin.

 

She closed her runny eyes again and whined softly as the developer relocated her tongue to a stud on the metal arm above her upper lip.   The pliers worked their way around her lower jaw, as the suction tube slurped again.

 

Finally one last clink.  The developer released the pinned tongue and leaned back on his stool.

 

"OK, not so bad, eh?  And no more flossing!"

 

The swollen red eyes of his subject looked up at him piteously, begging for a better reason.

 

"Now your gums have some time to heal, before the surgeons do the rest of your mouth-work.  Taking the teeth now means less bleeding later, and less time under the general anaesthetic, which reduces your risks."

 

He sighed at her dissatisfaction with his obvious logic.  "Alright, Twelve, pack her mouth with as much gauze as it'll hold, and then clean up the depilatory.  I'm not going to spend all day explaining things to a doll."

 

The developer stood and pushed his cart to the counter by the wall.  He set aside the bloody dental tools for the nurse to clean, washed his hands and began loading the cart-top tray with what he needed for the next procedure.  Suddenly he heard an urgent, muffled whine.  He turned and saw the nurse using her black thumb to jam cotton pads between the helpless girl's spread lips.  Below wide eyes the mouth was already stuffed to comic proportions; the flushing cheeks bulged out like red balloons.  He had to laugh.

 

"OK Twelve, that's quite enough.  I didn't mean for you to go for the record.  Clean her up now."  While the nurse cleaned the girl's face, and wiped the spent follicle-killing cream from her armpits and pubic mound with moist towels, the developer loosened the oral restraints and worked their steel fingers out from between gums and tight-packed gauze.

 

"Now it's time for you to meet the HOE."

 

The two clinicians disappeared toward the foot of the table and the strange new machine, and in a moment the abused girl heard a quiet farting noise.  The sound was made by a clear gel oozing under pressure from the tip of the little black football, in response to the developer's push of a button on the machine's control box.  The nurse spread the gel liberally over the thick rubber bulb, while the doctor loaded his gloved fingers with a generous blob of goo.

 

The still-teary victim shuddered and whined into the packed gauze as she felt cool gel touch her bald nether lips.  A probing latex-wrapped digit penetrated her, then withdrew, then entered again.  He was pushing gobs of gel deep into her tight, toned pussy.  After a half-dozen pokes he held his finger inside and she felt him rotate and flex it, testing her lubrication and elasticity.

 

"Mmm-hmm.  You have been a good girl!  It's too bad, really."

 

His finger was drawn out of her, and the girl heard a heavy rumbling as the mysterious machine was wheeled into position between her spread legs.  There were loud metallic sounds as the developer engaged lugs that held it to the floor.

 

"You must try to relax, Jasmine.  There's no fighting this - you'd only cause yourself more pain."

 

An evil hiss was heard from below and in a moment she felt the little football nosing into her greased pussy.  If this is a nightmare, she thought, please God let me wake up now!

 

The rubber intruder pressed forward.  She fought the muscle relaxants and clamped down as hard as she could, but even without the drugs it would have been like trying to stop a train.  Her eyelashes fluttered as thousands of pounds of hydraulic force pushed the bulb slowly into her, until it pressed against the dead end of her pleasure tunnel.  She had never been so full.

 

Then there was a puffing sound, and the football grew until the girl felt stretched to her absolute limit.  Above the stuffed mouth her eyes bugged, and the breaths that rushed through the rubber nasal tube turned quick and shallow.

 

"OK, we have an initial depth of 18cm, and at test pressure we have 65mm diameter, internal...."  There was a sound of keys being tapped, then the girl felt the walls of her pussy strain along their length as the bulb withdrew until one end peeked out between her lower lips.  "...and 70mm at entrance."  More keystrokes, then the developer touched one last button and leaned back.  The football burrowed slowly back into the captive's belly, then withdrew again.

 

After ten deliberate strokes the machine stopped, the bulb held deep inside.  There was another puff of air, and the football swelled just a little more before resuming its slow, greasy pumping motion...

 

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