Sex Slave 2: Examination

(story continues from Sex Slave 1: Sold)

Part 2: Examination

“You’re nothing but a walking cunt”, he said.  “As long as you cooperate, and follow orders, you’ll be well treated.  But if you resist or try to escape, you’ll be punished!”

It was the self-proclaimed ‘doctor’ speaking, a member of some kind of sex club.  They call themselves ‘Masters’.

“Your primary reason for living is going to be to provide pleasure to anyone who wants to take you.  If you fail to satisfy a sex partner, you will be punished severely!”

There was a veiled threat implied in his voice.

“And you must follow orders!  You no longer have a free will.  You are here to be used, and be used you will!  We’ll tell you when to eat, when to sleep, when to piss, and everything else.  If you fail to follow orders, you’ll be whipped.”

My husband had sold me into slavery for twenty thousand dollars, and it was obviously going to be a hard experience.  We had been playing a bondage game, or so I thought, when he brought a stranger into our bedroom who inspected me, negotiated a price, paid in cash, and took me away in the trunk of his car.  I don’t even know where I am, or how long I’ve been here.  I had been drugged, and when I woke, I found myself tied to this medical examination table, feet in stirrups, legs spread wide, and totally nude.

My hands were tied above my head at the top of the table, but what was worse was the rubber ball in my mouth, gagging me, and keeping me silent.  My jaw hurt from not being able to close my mouth or even hold it partially open in a more comfortable position, unlike the simple gag my husband had used when he tied me on my bed at home.

There was a wedge-shaped pillow behind my head, forcing it forward, and forcing me to look down the front of my body, where presumably I would be able to see whatever was happening to me as it was happening.  I knew I was going to be raped and couldn’t do anything about it.

‘At home!’   That was gone as I realized I wouldn’t be able to go home again.  It was no longer ‘home’ – wherever it was.

The man who identified himself as the ‘doctor’ had spent considerable time poking and prodding me all over, but paid particular attention to my genitals and breasts!  I didn’t like that, but couldn’t do anything about it.

He had shoved his fingers into my vagina as far as they would go, and spent a lot of time pushing them in and out as if he was fucking me.  He squeezed my breasts, and nearly twisted the nipples off.  I screamed as he mistreated me, and he paid no attention, and continued on, even through my muffled protests.

It felt like he was trying to force his whole hand and arm up into me through the vagina.  It hurt so badly as he stretched me.  I screamed in pain with tears rolling down my face, and he just ignored me as he continued trying to push his hand and arm into me!

He was quiet as he did things to me, except for the occasional admonition to keep quiet, and warning me that I was a sex slave now, and that I had better get used to being used, or I would spend a lot of time in pain!

In order to convince me that things could be worse, he showed me a cattle prod that was connected to a box on the wall with a dial on number 3.  The prod was about a foot long, with two little metal bumps on the end of it, and a wooden handle on the other end.  An electric cord went to the box on the wall.  It was obviously meant to be inserted into a female body, and the knob on the box on the wall was designed to allow various settings of electric shock to be administered to her internally.

As he explained it to me, he said he would give me a demonstration of it’s effectiveness on a low setting, so that I would know how it felt if he ever had to use it on a higher setting for punishment, or for ‘fun’, as he called it.  With my imagination running wild, I grunted through my gag and shook my head side-to-side in protest, and fear of being electrocuted through my internal organs.  To ‘demonstrate’ it’s use, he turned the dial on the box on the wall to #3, and started rubbing the head of the prod against my clit and partially into my vagina, as might be done if he were really punishing me…..

Strangely, it didn’t shock me.  I was expecting some sensation, but nothing, other that the feeling of an object being pressed into me, and moved in and out, with an occasional trip outside to rub against my clit.  It began to feel good!

But as I began to enjoy it, I closed my eyes, and started to drift toward some satisfaction, I suddenly felt a strong tingle inside my belly.  Just a short shock, but definitely enough to catch my attention and break the concentration I would have needed to reach an orgasm.  No satisfaction for me!  Not this time, anyway.  As it pulsed on and off, I realized that the '‘doctor'’ had a push button somewhere that he could push to turn it on and off, to make my body respond to the shocks.  I tried to protest, but with the gag in my mouth, all I could get out was a muffled “mmmfff!”

Having achieved his goal, the demonstration was over, and he pulled the prod out of me and placed it in a holder under the box on the wall.  I looked at it somewhat sadly, inwardly both saddened and repulsed by what it could do to a woman.  A thought flashed through my head  - this device could be used to force pleasure or pain on a woman.  It could force her to orgasm, or torture her to death, depending on the whim of the ‘Master’ and the setting of the dial on the box on the wall.

“Some day, we’ll see just how much you can take!” he said offhandedly.

He washed his hands at a small sink, and put on a fresh pair of rubber gloves.  I resigned myself to the thought he was going to do something else to me!

And indeed he was.  There were a series of small drawers under the examination table, and sitting on a stool between my widely spread legs, he opened one, and pulled out a battery operated hair clipper.

At first, I thought it was a vibrator, and that he was going to have some fun playing with my pussy.  I couldn’t see the object very well.  But as the cold clippers pressed against my bush, I realized he was going to shave me.  I was mortified.  Never before had I been shaved by a man.  Sure I had trimmed my genital hair, and even had it waxed once, but had never kept it shaved, much less allowed a man to shave me.

However in my present condition, there was nothing I could do about it, so gritted my teeth, so to speak, and endured the removal of the hair that protects and hides the entry to the woman’s soul.

After some minutes he stopped.  I assumed he had removed as much of the external hair from my mons and labia as he wished.

Instead he put the clipper back in the drawer, rose and went to the sink.  There was a small basin, which he filled with tepid water, and coming back to the table, washed my genital area with a washcloth he retrieved from one of the drawers under the table.  Next, he took a small can out of the drawer and sprayed shaving cream over my labia and genital area.  I realized he was not finished, and was going to close-shave me.  Correctly, I watched as he took a disposable razor out of the drawer, and proceeded to scrape it up and down my female parts, removing all trace of any hair that the clipper had missed.  I could imagine myself being totally hairless between my legs, and what it would feel like being thus exposed.  I hadn’t been ‘hairless’ since about the age of nine, and thought about what it would feel like having silky nylon panties rubbing against my labia, now that I was an adult.  I didn’t realize it then, but I wouldn’t be wearing panties very often in my new life.

 

THE SEX SLAVE will continue in Part 3 – Cuming Soon!

24.05.09