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Author's Note: Who hasn't considered a little cosmetic enhancement? This fanciful story is about a cute young woman tricked into becoming a wanton sex slave.
"Miss, umm," the doctor glances at the papers on her desk, "Miss Shimizu, you must understand that this procedure is experimental. We have obtained permission to begin tests on humans since our tests on animals were not harmful in anyway and show great promise." The woman tilts her head down a little, lowers her glasses farther down her nose to look at me carefully. She looks like the kindly old family doctor, perhaps sixty years old, gray hair in a short bob style, warm smile.
I shift in my seat uncertainly. I had answered an advertisement to earn money testing new cosmetics. The money sounded great. The word "experimental" had not been in the ad. After all, this is a world famous East Coast USA medical university.
"Doctor," I began uncertainly, "I trust there is no danger or you could not be offering this, right?"
The woman folds her hands together on the desk, looks me straight in the eyes. "Rest assured, no harm of any sort occurred in any of our studies. This is only a safe cosmetic procedure. You will be paid $500 for each treatment. We are on the verge of producing a product worth many millions of dollars a year, perhaps much more. I'll be perfectly honest. The original concept was a product that removed body fat wherever the patient chose, as little or as much as desired with simple injections, no surgery. That was a failure. We lost our funding. By a fortunate accident, we discovered that we could add body fat, almost the opposite of the original concept. Permanent, not temporary as with collagen treatments. Cosmetic surgery could be changed for the better. If a woman desires to enhance her breasts, shape her cheeks, or plump her lips, it would be simple and easy." She pauses for effect I think, "Cosmetic procedures are a sixteen billion dollars a year industry in the USA alone."
If I weren't sitting, I might have collapsed. "This is huge!" I think. Just the cosmetic uses could make everyone involved extremely wealthy and famous. Visions of me on TV talk shows, job offers as a fashion model flash through my mind.
I'm a normal woman. Few wouldn't like a larger cup size, except perhaps Roseann Barr and Oprah Winfrey. I'm twenty-three years old but am often asked for an ID in a bar. I'm Japanese, delicate features, and rather petite. I'm quite proud of my hair which I keep shiny and flows down my back almost to my hienie. I only have the dead ends trimmed occasionally and love it long. Some people think I'm a teenager. I'm not quite five feet tall and try to keep my weight below one hundred and eleven pounds so I can wear a US size two dress. But I'm not happy that I have B cup breasts. At least I haven't been mistaken for a boy since high school!
"Exactly what are we talking about?" I ask as calmly as I could.
"I've reviewed the papers from your primary care physician that you gave us. You've already had the blood test that we requested. We accept very few volunteers of specific characteristics.. You are in excellent health and your DNA is the sort that is appropriate, so you only need to sign the consent forms and we can begin. You will be given injections that will increase your breast size in a gradual safe manner," she droned on sounding almost bored.
Oh! There is a separate study that might interest you. That pays $500 too." she explains, lays a stack of papers and a pen in front of me, and sits back. It's not important, slight modifications to enlarge blood capillaries, enhance nerve sensitivity, very interesting effects deserving more study. Various neurological ailments could be corrected. You should consider signing up for that too. You would stay at our clinic without charge for the room and... ummm... provisions. I believe that you indicated that you have no dependents, partner or even a pet, and your family lives on the West Coast, so staying at the clinic should be fine for you, correct?"
"Yes. Excellent," I agree and started signing, not bothering to read more than a couple words per page. She stands and shows me where to sign and initial on each page.
"Both studies?" she asks. I nod and she adds another pile of papers to be signed.
"Very well Miss Shimizu ," she says as she puts the papers in a folder with 'Akiko Shimizu, #47 C and S' on the label. "Please follow me."
We leave her office and walk down a corridor past a nurses' station. She nods to one particular nurse who stands and follows us to exam room 4.
There is a perfectly normal examination room, typical padded table, a few odd looking devices, but clean and smells like antiseptic cleansers. They weigh me, take my blood pressure, all normal.
"Please undress completely and hop on the table," she instructs as she and the nurse wash their hands, put on latex gloves, and begin preparing the unusual equipment that I noticed before. I fold my clothes, place them on a shelf, and hop on the table. "Please lay on your back Miss Shimizu."
The doctor uses a simple tape measure on my breasts. I've had bras custom fit before so it is not a surprise that my B cups produce the measurements of a two inch difference between my bust line and rib cage just under my bosom. Measuring across my breast is only eight inches. I know this. I'm a B cup. What shocks me is the nurse using a pair of calipers to measure my labia lips and clitoris! Wow! Good heavens! Who measures those? I learn I have .32 inch thick lips at their thickest and a .29
inch thick, .37 inch tall clit from base to tip. I look up puzzled, then they remind me that I volunteered for the second study. All of this is recorded in my file.
I really start paying attention to the equipment now. One device looks like a half of a hollow glass volleyball with a rubber lip at the bottom, tiny hoses everywhere, and a larger hose attached at the top. As they handle it, I see it contains dozens, perhaps hundreds of needles inside, some a quarter inch long, others an inch, others perhaps two inches. Another device baffles me. It looks like a small hair curling iron but with the clamp open I see it also contains many needles. Both devices have a small phial of some milky colored fluid attached. The nurse and doctor are pushing buttons or something and a rain of many tiny squirts drop into the towel on the table where they work. I get a little nervous.
"Don't be alarmed Miss Shimizu ," the doctor advises calmly, "These are simple tools to give multiple injections at once. You wouldn't want to be here all day for a few hundred injections, would you? We can give you a mild sedative if you like but they're only pinpricks. You'll hardly feel a thing and we'll be finished in ten minutes."
"A few hundred injections?" I think. "Uh, no, no sedative. I'll be fine if you say so," I state emphatically trying to reassure myself more than anything else. She smiles.
Continuing to smile warmly, the doctor attaches a hose to the hollow ball and connects that to a vacuum pump. I watch curiously as she places it over my left breast and starts the pump. My eyes widen as my breast is pulled into it and the ball seals to my flesh around my breast. The doctor presses a button near the phial and I watch the fluid empty from the phial, obviously into my bosom.
The nurse surprisingly pulls my labia lips open, slips the rod part in me horizontally, and closes the clamp part around my left lip. She also presses a button and again the phial empties. My mouth drops open but I say nothing. It really wasn't a big deal just as they said.
"That wasn't so bad was it?" the ever smiling doctor asks. Then she removes the hollow ball, replaces the phial with a full one, and does the same thing to my right breast while the nurse injects my other labia lip. They are finished in a couple minutes.
"This next part must be done manually. It takes a little longer," the doctor explains as both of them inject my clitoris with normal hypodermics needles. This stings but is not horrible. It seems to take forever and I lose count of the injections at twenty I think.
"Now for the second procedure," the smiling doctor says she and the nurse remove their normal medical latex gloves and put on the largest rubber gloves I've ever seen. These look industrial and cover their arms completely up to their elbows. The doctor opens a small jar very gingerly. Perhaps it's expensive and she wants to be careful. Both the doctor and nurse carefully use forceps and gauze pads to get a sort of cream from the jar. Oddly they lean back as if to stay away from the cream as they paint my breasts and labia lips with it. They open me gently and apply the cream inside my lips too. I find this odd but soothing after the injections. In a few seconds it makes me tingle in a rather pleasant way.
"OK Miss Shimizu. You're finished," the doctor states while the nurse cleans equipment. "I will show you to your room in a minute. Oh! By the way, you'll want to wear these," she mentions casually while getting a packet laying on the cabinet and hands it to me.
I open it and look inside. There is a black latex strapless bra. It looks too large. I shrug but imagine it might have to do with bleeding from hundreds of needles or something. Next I pull out the other item and almost throw it at her in disgust. It is a pair of black latex panties with an obscene rubber dildo about an inch thick four inches long built in.
"Is this a joke or something?" I almost shout. "You can't expect me to wear these. Why? What's the point?"
"Miss Shimizu!" she states as if shocked. "We are professionals. Those are medical necessities for your comfort. Let me show you," and she gets her measuring tape again. The nurse follows her lead and gets the calipers.
My band size increased from two inches to two and one eighth. My breast is now eight and a half inches across where it had been eight ever since I turned eighteen. My sex. Oh my! My lips are now .34 inches thick, my clit .30 inch wide and .39 inch tall. It's only been ten minutes.
"These are the desired results Miss Shimizu. You have a 6.25% increase in sizes so far and they will continue to grow. Didn't you read the forms you signed?" she asks appearing quite baffled. "That is not only from the fluids injected. You are growing more robust blood vessels, body fat is migrating to the sites of the injections. You will find that your bras won't fit by tomorrow. Oh, and your tissues that we treated should conduct about 6% more sensations now too. We have not devised a test for that yet. These are what we are seeking with the two treatments," she said rather pleased with herself. "However You must keep your vagina opened slightly or your vulva and clitoris will become quite bothersome so you need that small dildo. One more thought," she whispered as if confidentially. "We must continue now on schedule. The procedures regulate and control the growth and changes. I'm sure you would not want one breast hanging down to your knees, your clitoris the size of a cucumber, or your tissues to feel like a first degree burn." I swallow hard but only nod sheepishly in agreement.
When we get to my room I'm pleased it is a pleasant normal hospital room for a single patient, rather well appointed too. I take off the latex bra and panties with the dildo thinking they must be a bad joke and immediately regret it. As my labia lips simply close, I become so aroused that I can barely stand it. I touch my clit and jump in surprise. My sex practically radiates heat. It almost hurts it's so intense. I yearn to be touched more than ever before in my life but it borders on pain. This is really strange. "How can this be?" I wonder. I notice that the panties have a little cup built into them so they do not
rub against my clit or labia. The bra is not only loose but does not touch my nipples, another pair of little cups. I decide these are sensible. I slip the panties and top back on.
I'm brought a very nice dinner of linguini with shrimp which I notice is high in fat content. There is also a beverage that I can not identify but it's very creamy and sweet. I enjoy both and ask for a second beverage.
My room has a very nice private bathroom adjoining it. I undress to take a shower but feel very uncomfortable. Shampooing my hair feels normal but washing myself is an entirely new experience. I come to orgasm just washing my chest. I orgasm simply washing my legs when the facecloth is just near my crotch. I quickly rinse, dry off, and slip back into my doctor approved outfit.
I simply watch cable TV for a while and go to sleep. Funny though, I dream about my all of my ex-boyfriends penises, hands, lips, and tongues almost all night except for one dream about a girlfriend I had as a teenager that I had forgotten.
After I wake I'm given a very nice breakfast that I did not expect. It is pancakes slathered in butter and syrup with a large side order of crispy bacon and the odd beverage. "More fatty foods," I think but enjoy it immensely. "They must know what they're doing. I must need this for the cellular growth I'm experiencing."
My nurse enters smiling cheerfully, "Good morning Miss Shimizu. Let me take you to your treatments, exam room, number 5 this time, a different room."
As we enter the doctor is waiting. I see their equipment is ready. This time there is a chair that is common at a gynecologist, no padded table this time, just a chair with stirrups so your vagina is exposed.
"Hello Kiko, may I call you Kiko?" the smiling doctor asks. I notice that the nurse grins. I'm impatient. I want to proceed.
I strip quickly. As my dildo slides out I shudder with a cramp in my abdomen and aching inside me. My entire crotch throbs uncomfortably. I sloppily toss my clothes on the shelf. I'm a trembling wreck.
I weigh one hundred and fourteen pounds. "Are my breasts heavier now?" I wonder. My blood pressure is a little high but that's probably because I'm in pain. I am now a C cup, my breast measures nine inches across, a three inch band size difference. They take other measurements and I can not imagine why. My wrists, ankles, waist, and neck are measured. I go a little crazy as the nurse measures my labia lips and clitoris and oddly the distance from my waist in the back to my waist in front, so they must strap me to the chair, straps around my ankles, wrists, tummy, and neck.
They inject both of my breasts, both of my labia lips, and my clitoris again and apply the strange cream all while chatting soothingly that everything is just fine. I notice several extra injections in my clit and nipples this time.
"Oh! You're going to like this Kiko," the doctor states confidently. "You need some more enhancements."
The nurse coats the dildo with the mysterious cream wearing those heavy rubber gloves again. The doctor dips her finger in some sort of lube, presses her latex-gloved finger into my rectum. Then the nurse slides the dildo into my ass, twists it around, slides it in and out a few times. My eyes widen. My lower intestine tingles. The movement of the dildo feels simply marvelous. "You'll like that eventually Kiko. Your rectum will be as much fun as your vagina now."
"Speaking of your vagina..." my nurse picks up another similar dildo coated with the creamy lotion and slides it in my pussy. I'm surprised how easily it enters me. "You will thank us later Kiko. You will have so much fun!" she chirps enthusiastically. "You must know by now that the milky injections promote growth, the cream enhances sensitivity," my doctor explains smiling as always.
They unstrap me from the chair. I can't really speak I'm drooling and panting so much. For the first time in my life I'm aware of my rectum. Oddly, I'd like the dildo or something back in it. My pussy aches and throbs.
"Here Kiko. Take this. You need it," the doctor states pleasantly as she hands a new item of latex clothing to me. The panties has a dildo two inches thick, six inches long for my vagina and another over an inch thick, five inches long for my rectum. The one for my rectum is hollow. I eagerly slip the panties up my legs and slam the two dildos into me.
"Those are more special medical devices," she states plainly like a rather boring lecturer at college. "You will find that every two minutes your vagina will get a very small electric shock. The battery lasts a day or two but we'll provide something else after your next treatments. You will find this saves you a lot of embarrassing moments. The rectal one is hollow so you can have enemas," she says with her ever present warm smile. " You'll find that you will not want to remove the dildo from your rectum. We will give you an enema every morning and another before you go to sleep. Are you enjoying your new diet? You need fat. That's mainly how your bosom grows." I nod weakly, thinking mostly of wanting my breasts stroked.
"We are going to do another treatment this afternoon Kiko. You are responding so very well that moving the schedule forward is a good idea." she says handing me a new different latex top. This one looks like a theatrical prop, almost cone shaped cups, like something Madonna wore years ago on stage. It clips in the back like a normal bra though. It would be too much to try to slip anything on like a strapless bra now.
Back in my room, I'm in a constant state of arousal and pain. I want to finger myself but do not dare remove my panties. I need the dildos inside me. I don't notice that the TV now shows porn nonstop and the remote control may be missing. Dicks thrusting in wet vaginas, moaning and panting, seems to be the perfect thing to watch and hear anyway while I think about my bosom, vagina, clitoris, and rectum.
My lunch is the creamy beverage. I do not really notice. It's very creamy and sweet though. My afternoon treatments are the same except maybe more injections than usual in my clitoris, lots of cream in my vagina. I'm not paying much attention. I enjoy my evening enema wishing my nurse would stay with me longer.
I ask for a snack or something. I'm so hungry! I'm given three more creamy sweet beverages. My nurse explains it is an energy drink like Boost but enhanced with vitamins, extra protein, and other necessary ingredients. I barely listen but enjoy them.
My nurse comes back to help me bathe. I wonder why she thinks I need help. She has a pan of warm soapy water, another of warm clear water, shampoo, and a face cloth on a cart. When we remove my top and panties, I become agitated immediately. I grab for my crotch and desperately need to finger myself, try to shove a finger in my ass, try to stroke my breasts. The nurse sighs.
"Miss Shimizu, this will not do," she say reproachfully. I'm stunned when she pulls a pair of handcuffs from the pocket of her smock and cuffs my right wrist, twists my arm behind my back, and cuffs my left wrist.
"Stop!" I yell. "What are you doing? Let me go! You can't do this to me!" I quake with terror, not so much from being shackled but from not being able to touch myself.
"Miss Shimizu, may I call you Kiko? Let's be cordial. Among the papers that you signed was one where you committed yourself," she pauses while that sinks in. "Yes, that's right. You gave us complete control over you in every way until we decide that your treatments are complete. This is for your own good. You need a bath and I am not going to wrestle. Now please stand still Kiko." I stood as still as I could, trembling and aching inside.
The bath is divine! Her touches are magic. I become aroused when she washes my face and neck. My mind goes blank as she washes my back and down my legs. I orgasm when she washes my breasts. She smiles pleasantly and says nothing. She lightly washes my pubic mound and I thrash around while I orgasm again. She just rinses and dries me. She did not remove the cuffs.
I can not sleep more than a few minutes at a time. I toss and turn which only make me ache more. I dream about being penetrated.
I wake to see a video on the TV of a woman chained in some complex position bent over at her waist being taken in her ass by one man behind her while another man thrusts into her pussy from below. I'm mesmerized. Seems like a fine show to me.
My nurse enters my room and places an object on the table that can swing over my bed.. I do not know what it is. It's a rubber penis almost 2 inches thick, a foot or more long with a suction cup so it stays upright on the table. I look at her quizzically but mainly still watch the show on TV. The cocks on the screen have most of my attention.
"Kiko, that's your very nourishing breakfast. Just suck it to get your meal," my nurse says with a smile, "this is necessary so you concentrate on your breakfast." Seems sensible to me. I finish it in five minutes and ask for another. I love my creamy energy drink or whatever it is.
After I enjoy my morning enema, my nurse leads me to my treatments.
I run into the room, they remove my top, eager to proceed, but do not want them to take off my panties. I need them!
My doctor is waiting, smiling pleasantly, "Welcome Kiko!" my doctor chirps gleefully. "Perhaps I should start addressing you as slave, is that alright?"
"Yes, yes, whatever you say," I babble half sensibly not caring about the strange form of addressing me. I only think about my throbbing nipples, aching vagina, oddly empty feeling inside even though I am filled. "What's next?" I plead, "Can I get some relief from these constant sensations? I need some help please!"
"Of course slave. Only a few more procedures and everything will be perfect," she says grinning. The nurse looks especially happy. "Keep your panties for the moment."
I'm a wreck. I almost scream every time I'm touched. I weigh one hundred and twenty-two pounds. I can't understand the weight gain since I 'm now on a liquid diet so my enemas are easier I guess. The measurements show there is now a four inch difference between my rib cage and bust line. Measuring across my breast is ten inches. I am now a D cup. My labia lips and clitoris are 33% larger too. Does that mean they are 33% more sensitive too?
Removing my panties leaves me desperate to be filled. They waste no time and immediately strap my ankles to the gynecologist's chair. Then they remove my handcuffs, lay me flat, and strap my wrists to the armrests, strap my waist down too. I can only think about my breasts, my nipples, my pussy, my clit, and my ass. I'd do anything to get some relief. I start to babble and for the first time a ball gag is shoved in my mouth and buckled behind my neck. My doctor takes a moment to brush the hair out of my eyes and pets my cheek. Her touch is electric. It seems I am very sensitive everywhere.
They are both so cool and professional. All of my injections go smoothly as usual. This time my vagina and clitoris each get two injections and two lotion applications to my vagina and rectum. They finish my treatments and unstrap my ankles, just my ankles.
"Lay still slave. This is for your own good," my doctor says picking up an odd looking mass of rubber. She shimmies it up my legs and I see it is a much more elaborate pair of panties or shorts or something. There is a dildo for my vagina that looks almost three inches in diameter and maybe nine inches long all covered in bumps. It must be motorized since it is squirming like a demented snake. There is something like a pad of fingertips or little nubs that will press against my clit. It also twists
and squirms. The plug for my rectum is hollow again but over two inches wide and nine inches long. All of that is wrapped around me, firmly shoved into me, and pressed firmly against me. Then the nurse turns toward me grinning. In her hands is what must be a steel chastity belt. I've never seen one before but that must be what it is. They unstrap my waist from the chair, work together to slide it under me, around my waist, between my legs. Then they oddly connect some wires between my shorts and the belt before the close the belt with a solid sounding "click."
"You're going to love that slave. There are dozens of tiny lithium batteries and computer chips in those. It has power for weeks if needed. You will be stimulated and fucked and electrocuted at random for seconds or hours... well... mainly shocked, " she laughs for the first time. "Don't worry. It's therapeutic. By the way slave, you will now address anyone who controls you as Mistress or Master, agreed?"
The tiny nubs caressing my clit swirl for a moment, the dildo in my cunt twists, a shock roars through me. I gasp and moan in my gag. The nurse removes my gag. "Well" she says, "you were asked a question slave."
"Yes Mistresses!" I shout. "Anything you say Mistresses!"
They unstrap me. I'm given a larger rubber bra of the same design as the last one. "We will be finished soon," my doctor Mistress says. This time she helps me into my top and I wonder why.
Lunch is the same as breakfast. I'm allowed to hold the beverage dispenser this time and discover that when I pump my hand up and down the shaft, I get the creamy drink faster. I have five.
I can not wait until my next treatment, hoping for some relief. I could not imagine that these effects are what they really intend. There must be some other final result.
The device locked around my hips and over my crotch is driving me insane. I am on the brink of orgasm, then shocked, then teased, over and over again. I paw anxiously at the belt but there is no way for me to remove it. I decide to remove my top.
Perhaps I can orgasm if I massage my breasts. Reaching behind my back I do not find the simple clasp that was on the last top. I feel a metal plate instead. I jump up, stand in front of a mirror, and turn as far as I can to look at my back. In the center of the back of the bra is indeed a metal plate with a small keyhole. "They do control me in every way," I realize.
As I stand in my room I realize that I must lean backwards a little just to stand. "My breasts are much heavier now," I think shocked.
My nurse enters with my dinner and sees me standing uncomfortable and confused.
"Kiko, I see that you need some help," she says soothingly. "We know that it's difficult to adjust so quickly. I have just what you need."
On her cart with my dinner is another pile of latex. "Now what?" I wonder but I trust my nurse and doctor. They have been right all along and care for me.
My nurse tells me to stand leaning forward with my hands against the wall above my head. She wraps something around my torso. I realize it is a corset.
"Exhale and suck in your tummy Kiko," she instructs calmly while pulling laces tighter and tighter. "More Kiko. You can do it. Suck it in." She runs straps over and around both of my shoulders that pull my shoulders back while she tightens the buckles.
When she finishes she turns me around to face her. "You're going to love that," she exclaims happily. "It has strong spring steel boning to shape you just right."
"She is certainly telling the truth," I think. My waist must be four inches smaller but more importantly it makes me lean back with my bosom thrust out.
"Oh! You need more help," she says. "Sit on the bed please."
I'm baffled as she slips oxford shoes on my feet with what must be six inch heels.
"Stand now Kiko," she says offering her hand to me.
I almost fall on my face. Then I understand. These actually make me stand straight. Along with the corset I have perfect posture.
I pose in front of the mirror, turning around to see how I look. I do look very sexy and my posture is fabulous. Then I notice that the shoes and corset all have a metal flap with a keyhole over the laces like my bra. I am not concerned. They must know what they're doing and I trust them.
Dinner is the same penis. I ask for four more. My enema is normal and I do not have to be shackled since I can not touch myself.
I watch videos of a woman spread-eagle in chains being fucked in every hole by a long line of men. I'm given six of my energy drinks until I fall into my series of restless naps.
I'm a wreck. For over 12 hours this device has kept me on the brink of orgasm then shocks me. I can only take tiny short breaths with my tight corset. My feet cramp from not being able to straighten them. I had only a few short naps dreaming of nothing but being caressed and penetrated although a foot massage was in there too.
I watch the slave girl on the video get fucked 20 times in the hour long show. I wish it was me.
I have four dicks for breakfast. I say nothing throughout my enema.
I am taken to the exam room. My chastity belt is unlocked and clatters noisily to the floor. My shorts with my dildos are removed. I freak out. I want to be filled. I need to be filled. I need stimulation. I thrash around in a panic. But I'll do anything she wants, hoping she touches me or gives me some relief.
The nurse Mistress calmly closes a highly polished stainless collar around my neck, similar cuffs on my wrists, then my ankles. They are all two inches wide, a quarter inch thick. They are snug but not tight on me. I do not see any key holes. They just lock, apparently permanent. They all have a ring on a staple hanging from them. This does not concern me at all. I only want to be touched and filled.
My doctor Mistress positions me kneeling with my ankles crossed. Every touch of her hands is electric. I want more and don't even consider resisting. She grabs my wrists, guides them behind my back, and slips a padlock between the rings on them. She lowers my wrists to near my ankles and slips that same padlock though my ankle cuff rings. She closes the lock. I am in a strict hogtie on my knees but only think this is comfortable since I'm leaning back and my heavy breasts will not cause me to fall on my face. I'm grateful.
She shoves a ball gag in my mouth and buckles it behind my neck. I don't care. "Will someone touch me now?" is all that I think.
My measurements show that I am now an DD cup. My breasts are eleven inches across, five inches tall above my rib cage. I realize that my breasts are almost the same size as my head now. I don't care when they measure my clitoris and labia lips but they are huge. My clit must protrude three quarters of an inch beyond my hood that used to cover it. My labia lips must be an inch thick. Everything tingles. Even my Mistress nurse brushing innocently against my shoulder makes me tremble. My entire body is aflame with lust. I only think about sex.
My upper arms are grabbed. "Come this way slave," my Mistress doctor says and they drag me to what must be an empty conference room, closing the door.
"It is time to explain your true situation slave," my Mistress doctor states starting intently into my eyes. "All of the papers you signed except one were a sham to let you believe this is a voluntary medical procedure. All but that one paper were shredded. Everything you were told were lies. However one paper you signed was dated two years ago and you did not notice. It is a perfectly normal legitimate form so that you donate your body to medical science when you die. It also seems that you chose to donate your body to this hospital."
'On the day you came here," she continues, "we fabricated reports that you were found unconscious at a local mall. It looks as if you were brought here by ambulance and we tried to save you. Unfortunately, there was nothing we could do. There are records that show you died of a burst brain aneurysm. We found a receipt in your purse showing you did shop at that mall earlier that day. We used your car keys and parking slip in your purse so it was easy to take your car to leave it on that mall parking lot."
"Your death certificate is dated the day that you arrived here," she continued. " The state will notify your family. I imagine that your mourning family will have a lovely memorial service, empty your apartment, receive any money you had 'by law' since you did not have a will. In a few months they will be sent an urn supposedly containing your ashes as per the normal agreement when a body is donated to science. Actually, you'd be surprised how many urns there are at antique shops and flea markets."
"By the way," my Mistress doctor muses while idly fingering the ring on the front of my collar, making a tiny clinking sound, "you were selected to be a sex slave as soon as we saw you and your life situation. The cosmetic treatment works perfectly and we will make millions from that. Usually a volunteer gets one treatment and her breasts increase one cup size. She gets $500 for one outpatient visit. We get more proof of our product. Everyone is happy."
The Mistress doctor looks lost in thought, " The nerve sensitivity lotion however is highly dangerous and experimental. It looks like applying the lotion to the soft wet tissues in your vagina might spread it throughout your entire body, perhaps even to your brain. We gave you twice as much as previous subjects. Adrenaline and endorphins must be much higher in you constantly now. The 'energy drink' that you like so much may have helped too. Do you remember seeing in the news that the cryogenics at a fertility clinic failed? Did you ever wonder what happen to all the sperm and ova? I quietly bought them. That and some heavy cream with sugar is your 'energy drink.' Perhaps that's why you survived. Practically no one knows the nerve sensitivity lotion exists and we don't know much about how it effects the subject." She smiles down at me and pets my head. "I guess you'll find out."
"You have no name now," she stated plainly. "Akiko Shimizu is dead. I name you 'slave47' since you are the forth-seventh girl to get the full treatments. It's unfortunate that most of them did not survive Many died of congestive heart failure or became comatose vegetables."
Through all of this I'm understanding perhaps every third word. I'm squirming in my bondage in misery, wanting only to be touched, craving something shoved inside me.
Six people enter the room who I never saw before, four men, two women. One man is wearing an expensive suit, looks Italian. The other man wears some sort of Arab clothing that I think is called a Dishdasha. The other men are dressed casually. The women must be professional Dominatrices, all in exotic erotic leather, one in cherry red, the other all black.
"Ah! Thank you for being so prompt." my Mistress doctor announces. "We are ready to begin. Please make yourselves comfortable."
"What are the bids for this slave?" asks the doctor of the small crowd with her warm friendly smile. "She desperately needs to be owned and used hard. In fact, she will beg to do anything to be used. The harder, the better. Bidding starts at $50,000."
I squirm in my bondage and tremble, praying that someone uses me soon. Nothing else matters.