Enslaved in Europe Ch. 02

Then she measured my height and announced, "175 centimeters." She recorded this as well and told me I could step off the scale.

Then I was ordered up onto an examination table where the nurse checked my pulse and my blood pressure. She was recording this information when the doctor came in.

The doctor introduced herself to Gretchen and myself, and then she went to work. In America I was always had privacy when visiting my doctor. Here I was stark naked and a nurse, my girlfriend and a total stranger were allowed to watch the whole thing.

The doctor continued to talk to Gretchen and the nurse while she examined my ears, eyes, nose and throat. Then, without warning, the doctor began to ask me questions about my sex life. I blushed at how intimate the questions became, especially with three other people listening in on my answers.

How often did I masturbate? How many sexual partners did I have? What sort of items penetrated my vagina? Did any objects ever penetrate my anus? What sort of sexual lubricants did I use? Had I ever engaged in incest? What sort of pain tolerance did I have? Had I ever lost consciousness as a result of being whipped or some other form of painful punishment? What was the most painful punishment I'd ever been forced to endure?

As the questions continued the doctor performed a rather painful and impersonal breast exam. Then she snapped on two latex gloves and performed a vaginal exam. She spent an inordinate amount of time examining my pubic lips and probing the interior of my cunt. Then she delicately removed my clit from it's hood and traced her fingers over it.

"She's extremely aroused," the doctor said, commenting on how swollen and hard my clit was. "If you don't want her to masturbate, I suggest you buy some leather restraints as soon as possible and keep her hands bound so that she can't reach her crotch."

I don't know which offended me more, the fact that tiny freedoms like the freedom to relieve my sexual frustration was being taken away from me or the fact that they talked about the most intimate sexual details of my life in front of me as if I weren't even there!

The doctor's fondling of my clit left me more aroused than ever and after the exam was over, the doctor told me to stay on the examination table. While I was lying there with my legs splayed open obscenely wide, the doctor said that she needed some blood samples from me. Even though my medical records showed that I didn't have AIDS or any other sexually transmitted disease, the OSI preferred to run their own tests as an extra added precaution. Slaves in Sessia typically had sex with dozens of people and they felt they couldn't be too careful.

The next shock came when the doctor told me that I'd have to stay at the offices of the O.S.I. until the results of the blood tests came back and that it would take several hours. Gretchen and I both protested that, but the doctor was firm. Legally she had the authority to keep me there until it was determined that I wouldn't pass on any diseases to any potential sexual partners.

Gretchen had wanted to get me back to the hotel as quickly as possible and was obviously annoyed with this most recent turn of events, and barely held her anger in check. As for me, I was nervous, as the nurse took me by the arm and led me to "the slave holding area". I had no idea what that was, but I wasn't in a hurry to find out.

The nurse led me away from the medical section of the O.S.I. offices and past a number of closed doors. The nurse kept a firm grip on one of my arms and shoulders the whole time we walked. It was as if she thought I'd make a run for it if she didn't keep her hands on me.

And who knows? Maybe that sort of thing had happened before. Being forced to be a naked slave and exposed to total strangers can be very overwhelming and frightening. Maybe some previous slaves had panicked and tried to run.

Finally we stopped at a door and the nurse took one hand off of me so she could knock. The sound echoed off the tiled floors and after a few seconds the door opened. Now, I'm pretty tall for a woman, but when that door opened I had to look up at the woman who had opened it. She was about three inches taller than I and would have been pretty if she wore makeup and bothered to smile. However her face was scrubbed clean of any cosmetics and her face had a serious look to it.

Then there was the uniform. It had a military look to it, starched white dress shirt, name tag, rank insignia and epaulettes. She also had a badge pinned to her shirt and around her waist she wore a belt with a variety of scary looking accessories. I didn't see a gun, but I thought I saw a can of mace and some sort of electric stun device.

"Yes?" the imposing woman asked the nurse. Her tone suggested that she didn't like to waste time. We had better have a good reason for being here.

"Doctor Scolari is running blood tests on the new slave," the nurse said. "We need to put her in the holding area until the results come back."

The guard looked directly at me for the first time and the look in her eyes was so cold that I had to look away. It wasn't openly malicious, but it was cold. The sort of look that said she would take no pleasure in hurting me, but if she was ordered to she would do it without hesitation or remorse.

"Turn around," the guard ordered. I didn't even ask her why, I just did as I was told. This woman had that effect on me. I heard the clink of metal and then felt metal cuffs biting into my wrists.

"I don't like surprises," the guard said as she tightened the cuffs one more notch. "I expect you to behave while you're here. If you cause any disruptions or interfere with the smooth functioning of my department I have broad authority to discipline you and put you in your place. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I said, sounding as submissive as possible.

Then she turned me around, so that we were facing each other. She grabbed my chin with one hand and held my head up. With the other she grabbed my collar and read my tag. Having read my tag, she then grabbed my face in both hands and asked, "Are you going to give me any trouble, Diane?"

"No ma'am," I answered.

The guard and the nurse exchanged a few words and the nurse then retreated down the hall. I glanced at the guard's nametag and saw that her name was Raye. The guard saw this and asked, "Are you staring at my breasts, Diane?"

"No ma'am," I replied. "I was just reading the name on your tag."

She made a noise in the back of her throat and walked me past several desks and towards the holding area. "You don't need to know my name," the guard said. "You just need to be obedient. And if I find that you use my name to complain about me or say unflattering things about me, it could go bad for you."

"I wasn't going to do anything like that," I protested. "I swear!"

The guard made a sound in the back of her throat that could have meant almost anything. I think she assumed I was going to be trouble, despite my protestations of innocence.

When we got to the cells, I was surprised. First of all these were the cleanest cells I'd ever seen in my life. The metal bars didn't have a speck of rust on them. The floors were devoid of any type of clutter or debris. The walls were spotless and clean. The guard unlocked the door and it wasn't until I stepped inside that I thought to ask, "Where's the toilet?"

"There is no toilet in any of the cells," Miss Raye answered. "If you have to go, just call for a guard. Somebody will come back here and take you to the ladies room."

Then I took another look at the cell and asked, "Where's the bed?"

She sighed and said, "There is no bed. Nobody stays locked up here for more than a few hours. But if you really must sleep the floor is clean enough. You can sleep there."

Then she closed the call door with a metallic clang.

Once Miss Raye left the holding area, I was alone. There were no other prisoners and nobody to talk to. The cell was fairly large, so I was able to pace. Eventually I got bored of that and I wondered what I was supposed to do while I waited. There wasn't even a clock on the wall to allow me to keep track of the time.

*****

After what seemed like hours, Miss Raye came back with another naked slave. This one was even more slender than I and had a frightened look on her face. Her long red hair made it hard to see her features, but as she got closer I noticed that she'd been crying.

"Diane, you now have a friend," the guard called out loudly. "Diane, this is Erin. Erin this is Diane."

The guard unlocked the door and shoved Erin inside the cell. I noticed that Erin also had her hands bound behind her back.

"The two of you play nice," the guard ordered in a very authoritarian voice. She didn't even have to threaten that there would be consequences if we didn't get along. The tone of her voice made that much clear.

Erin continued to sob and tears periodically ran down her face. "Erin?" I said in a soft, sympathetic tone of voice. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" she retorted with an accent that I was pretty sure was British, "I'm naked and handcuffed and locked in a bloody cell! Isn't that bad enough?"

I sighed and tried to choose my words carefully. I was also naked and handcuffed and locked in a cell, but I wasn't crying. I felt sympathy for this girl, but I thought she was overreacting.

"Didn't you expect this, Erin?" I asked. "I mean, you did sign a contract to become a slave, didn't you? A legal document?"

Gretchen had me sign one before we came to Sessia. Although to be honest I didn't read it in detail. I just skimmed it and signed all of my rights as a free person away for as long as I was on Sessian soil. It was intimidating and scary, but I was making the best of it.

Erin sniffed and leaned against a wall. "I signed a contract," she said.

"So, didn't you know what would happen?" I asked.

"It's too much," the redhead complained. "I was paraded naked through the streets! I'm surrounded by people who are fully clothed and I don't even have pubic hair anymore! It's horrible! I want to go home!"

"I'm sorry Erin, but you can't go home," I said as I came closer. I would have liked to hug her, but with my hands bound behind my back that was impossible. "How long are you in for?"

"Thirty days," she said as she choked back a sob.

"I'm sorry," I said with genuine sympathy. "Today your first day?"

She nodded her head in agreement.

"Mine too," I said. "I'm here for a week. It was my girlfriend's idea. We're both into bondage and discipline. She talked me into this, saying how it's this great sexual fantasy of hers to have a slave she can parade around in public. Eventually I gave in because I knew how unhappy she'd be if I said no, but it's so overwhelming. Sometimes I just don't know how I'm gonna deal with it."

"With me it was my employer," Erin said. "I work for Foxy Productions. Have you ever heard of them?"

I shook my head to indicate a negative.

"Well," Erin went on her voice still rough from crying, "They do films with strong B&D themes. Spanking, whipping, bondage and all that sort of thing. The trouble is none of the actresses were willing to actually be spanked or whipped so we simulated everything. I would flinch and scream and a makeup artist would paint whip marks on my skin and it would all be edited together in the final product."

"So, what's the problem?" I asked.

"I suppose none of us could act," Erin admitted. "The screaming and the flinching wasn't very believable. Most of the girls got fired. I was able to keep my job by agreeing to come to Sessia and be trained as a slave for thirty days. When I go back to the U.K. I'll still have my job at Foxy Productions, but from that point on the whippings and spankings will be real."

"So," I asked, "you're not normally into submission or corporal punishment?"

"No," she sniffed, "I'm just doing this to keep my job."

I moved in close and allowed Erin to lay her head on my shoulder. It wasn't the same as a hug, but it seemed to comfort her somewhat. "So, your boss legally owns you while you're here in Sessia?" I asked.

"No," Erin said. "There's an actress who works for Foxy Productions. She's an actress now, but she used to be a dominatrix. I'll be her property for the next thirty days."

I let out a loud sigh. I thought I had it bad, belonging to my girlfriend for just seven days. Despite Gretchen's penchant for going too far, she still loved me. And despite the fact that she did things to me sometimes that I found frightening, I still loved her. However poor Erin would spend thirty days belonging to a woman who was being paid to humiliate her and break her spirit and punish her again and again.

Erin's owner would just see her as a free woman who desperately needed slave training.