Fury's Filthy Stories
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FurryFury
Addict of Sensation
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Back In The Court of the Magician:
Back In The Court of the Magician:
Darkness and its simple relief wrapped in nothingness were ripped painfully from me. Where was I? I was being hit in the chest. I was gagging. I was coughing. Ow! Pain bloomed in my throat as something was shoved down it. Was I in hell? The burning in my throat and the heat of my skin seemed to indicate I was.
Slowly I began to realize just how close I had come to dying. I hadn’t planned it. When I keened that I was alive, I felt a surprising relief. I also felt angry. How dare they rob me of my peace? I hadn’t planned to die but the darkness had been soothing and without pain of any kind. Now I was in the harsh light and pain burned in me, again.
Still I didn’t know where I was. It didn’t seem like hell now because there was a smell that hospitals had, hell wouldn’t smell like that would it? It might, I thought wryly to myself. The people, looked like nurses and doctors not demons and devils. Had Ian rushed to help me? Did he send these medical people?
I was angry too with myself. Why should I want to die for some man who didn’t truly care about me? No matter what he said or did, he couldn’t have truly cared not if he would send me away. Maybe now he would really care and keep me? I wished for that but part of me said he didn’t deserve me now. I also felt I never would deserve to be loved and cared for the way I wanted. Who or what decides if you are worthy or not, I wondered? If it is only myself, I don’t think I will ever feel I am entitled. It was so much better when I thought Ian found me worthwhile.
I cried then. It hurt because my rib cage and everything beneath it was sore but I could only cry bitter sobbing tears, railing against Ian, love, life and myself. I cried often and for long bouts in those days. If not for the IV drip I surely would not have had enough fluids in me to keep on with all the tears I shed. My already abused throat felt all the worse from the nearly constant stream of tears. It seemed to me that my emotions made my esophagus feel even hotter and sorer but I couldn’t stop feeling so hurt or crying.
I could hear people talking from time to time. I could hear machines whirling and hissing. Rarely could I make out who the people were or what they were saying. The few times I could make out their words, the information was lost again whenever I tried to remember it later. Their words like their footsteps seemed to be only temporary sounds signifying nothing terribly important to me.
I don’t know how long I was out of it. I don’t know a lot of things from that time. I remember being very confused. I would think one minute I was in my rooms with Ian and the next that I was free or in a hospital. Time flowed in a pattern I could neither discern nor did I care to examine because I had nothing left, everything was meaningless to me, except the abject misery I felt. I was so tired all the time. I felt so slow and heavy. Nothing was worthwhile to me right then.
What I eventually became aware of was that I was in some sort of medical facility. That gave me some small measure of hope. I was in a public place. That meant I might be free but I was too tired to do much about it. I still had machines helping me breathe, feeding me fluids and other nutrients as well, by the sound I could tell my heart rate was being monitored.
Medical personnel closely monitored me in person as well. In fact, it was hard to sleep because one of them would come in to fool with me in some damned way. I grew tired of blood being drawn, the squeezing of the blood pressure cuff and endless “we” comments. I wanted to swat them away like flies. I wanted to say just let me be, I’ll take my chances. It’s easy to gamble when you don’t much care about the results but the thrill of the game is gone too.
There was a man that came to talk with me everyday. He seemed familiar to me but I couldn’t figure out how for a long time. At first he would talk to me. I could only write because there was a tube down my throat. Even writing tired me out quickly then. Eventually I realized that what he seemed to be doing with me was what we would today call psychotherapy. At that time I simply didn’t care what he wanted. I didn’t question his interest very much. I needed to talk too badly.
As my throat, lungs and emotions would let me, I did just that. I was so mixed up, so hurt. I felt so abandoned that I was eager to be listened to but it wasn’t the same as when Ian listened to me or talked with me. There was no feeling, false or not, of love or caring coming from this man. I found that felt safer in a way but I missed the dream of what Ian and I once had or what I’d hoped we had. I missed it with a nearly physical ache that rattled my soul.
He was far more detached than Ian. My croaking must have been as painful to listen to at first, as it was for me to make, but listen he did. He was so detached; at least it seemed that way to me that I didn’t realize he was working toward a goal. If I had known this simple fact, which I admit should have been obvious, or what his goal was, I would not have been so forthcoming. His goals were not mine. In fact, it turned out he was my enemy though it could be said he helped to put me back together emotionally. He helped me care about myself again and want to live again but I’m not sure that was a good thing.
It took me a while to remember exactly who he was. He was one of my original abductors. The one I’d thought of as The Magician. You may remember me writing about him before. The one who thought he was David Copperfield or something. He was the one with the knife and my clothes, doing what seemed to be, in his mind, almost like magic tricks. I hated him.
Before I figured that out, I poured out my heart to him. Little by little as my throat got better I told him everything that mattered about what had happened. Eventually I was better. The machines were removed day by day. My voice and my strength got better, the soreness faded. I was able to feed myself though food didn’t really appeal. I was able to go to the bathroom on my own eventually though they kept me tied to bed until I rang for help as if they were afraid I’d do something bad.
I was moved then to a sort of padded cell. It was a step up from the machines and being tied to a bed. It meant that at least physically I was better. I think now that I must have been under a suicide watch of sorts. At the time I had far fewer questions or points of reference except the constant questions of why didn’t Ian love me truly, enough to keep me? I also now loathed The Magician. I knew he was cruel and didn’t care for me as a person at all.
I felt, after a while that the people here only cared about me the way a farmer would care about a pig, cow, chicken or crop. You know, as something that meant money to them when they killed it. It seemed to me they were arguing about me and perhaps even about Ian early on, but that was probably my imagination. I really don’t think I was ever that important to them.
I’m not sure how long it took from the time I started the fire in my rooms to the time I was judged ready for conditioning. Even now my thoughts of that time are muddled at best. The food I’d had while physically ill and sick at heart just stopped one day. I wondered why but no one would answer my questions when they checked on me now. I felt diminished in some way. As if I’d lost some unnamed part of myself. They did however give me a little liquid to drink several times a day. It was watery but water wasn’t all that was in it. I was sure of it. Still, what choice did I have? I don’t know what all was in it but I was so thirsty I would have thanked them for anything. I still felt hungry and just, needy but I wasn’t sure what I was needy for exactly either.
Little by little I felt a strange interest in sex again. It wasn’t as if I wanted to go there really. My body though seemed to be more and more ready without my mind being a willing part of the equation. I knew I was on camera and I didn’t want to be seen doing anything. At the time I thought they were assuming I was nuts. I hoped to be able to get out someday. I didn’t want to give them any ammunition to keep me there. So I never tried to masturbate or take care of my needs in anyway.
A few days later I found myself in the “conditioning” room again, the room that I’d first been taken to after I was abducted. As the orderlies strapped me to the device this second time, I went numb. I wasn’t in a hospital after all, the whole time I’d been in the Magician’s Court. I’d thought there might be a way out but now I wasn’t so sure at all. I felt hopelessness dragging me down again.
I waited there in the darkness. My hospital gown was open in the back. The coolness of the air and the device I was strapped to made me feel so vulnerable. Of course that was no illusion I was completely vulnerable. I thought about the Lady who had come for me once and wished for her. She’d been nicer to me than my abductors. I’d lick her shoes again, or do most anything she wanted, if only she would come into the room and not that pack of jackals. My heart was beating wildly as I prayed for her or someone gentle and loving soul to come in. Ian’s words, echoed in my mind. “You need it rougher.”
The light snapped on, blinding me. My heart rate increased from apprehension and hope. I tried to see who had come into the room. I heard several different food steps at least two sets, maybe more. I wanted to sob but held myself in check while my hopes plummeted.
“Now, we’ve been here before haven’t we?” A voice said. The voice was as smooth as a snake.
“We had to stop before but not this time. Your conditioning will proceed as it should this time.” He chuckled and continued. “And this is only the first step on a very long road.” The Magician was speaking. I knew his voice even if I couldn’t seem him. He said it with not a trace of true caring for me. He seemed to be relishing watching me squirm. I decided to give him as little reaction as possible.
Then other men came in, the ones that had been there before. I saw their faces again all round me. I cried. Just like that my resolve broke. I felt like a bag of potatoes getting so mushy when once I was hard and tough. I begged them to please stop.
“Why? What possible reason would we have to stop? Oh, let me guess, we have the wrong girl. Isn’t that it?” The doctor said in a nasty tone. He was further in the room than the newer arrivals were. I saw him go around to the foot of the device and look between my legs.
“Yes!” I said. A flush of heat rose all over my body from embarrassment of knowing where he was looking.
“And next I guess you’ll say you’re a virgin right?” He said. His hands examined my vagina while he said it. Satisfied he raised his head and leered at me knowing full well that wasn’t the case. I wasn’t a virgin anymore. They’d sold that part of me. I’d willingly given that, in love and trust or maybe just stupidity, to someone who’d thrown me away the minute he was done.
I was such a fool. Is it better to have loved and lost? I didn’t think so then. I was glad they couldn’t take my virginities though. Even though I’d been a fool, I’d still made sure they couldn’t take that. It was a very small satisfaction to have but it was all I had to hold onto in my mind. My tears were sliding down my face, hot and wet. I was shivering all over from fear, self-loathing and mortification.
“No.” I said crying harder now.
“No, because you are a whore. We sold you before. You are no longer a virgin. You will be sold here over and over again. You are our whore now. You will learn to do as you are told and SHUT UP!” Roared the Magician.
Slowly he worked at cutting off the white Johnny gown. It was barely there and didn’t even cover up everything but he cut it off just for the effect. I knew it. I understood that was why he was doing this but it still affected me. I bit back any further begging. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction but the damned tears continued, making my neck warm, wet and itchy.
As soon as he pulled the gown from my body in his typical display of “magic,” I felt their fingers going all over my body. There were fingers pinching my nipples, dragging down my skin, pulling at my lips and clit, and then plunging into me. I felt them invading my vagina, my ass, my mouth, nose and ears. If they kept on this way, I feared I would suffocate with them in my flesh. A tiny voice inside of me said, “yes, please,” to such horrors. I wanted to scream then. I was supposed to be a good girl but deep inside what was I?
I pulled away whenever I could but with the way they had me tied I couldn’t move much at all. In a way they were being careful I guess, because I didn’t suffocate but they scared me with that over and over. I think they knew what they were doing to my mind and enjoyed it as much as what they were doing to my body.
Hands slid over my body. They were rough hands. Not soft like Ian’s, not gentle like his usually were either, because they didn’t love me. This line of thinking distracted me a little but confused me too because Ian hadn’t really loved me either now had he? I had wanted him to be rougher with me too but now I wanted these rough men to leave me alone. My heart still wanted to be with Ian or someone like him, someone who wasn’t false.
My legs were spread open. My ass was exposed. I couldn’t move my neck much or I’d choke myself. I thought hard about that fact. It seemed almost an attractive thing at the time. In a way, I wanted to choke myself. My ankles were tied far apart. My legs and thighs were also tied but the backs of my knees and my ass were exposed, the device was designed to be open there.
My wrists, forearms and biceps were tied as well. I was pretty helpless. I hated it. There were too many of them in the room with me anyway. If I hadn’t have been tied I would have been in a hopeless situation regardless. Why then, I wondered did I have to be tied so? What on earth could they be planning? I mean they could have done anything with me, controlled me in so many ways all without tying me down. So why had they done this?
They went slowly at first. Taking possession of my body with their hands and mouths. I could feel fingers and teeth all over me. The wetness of their fowl mouths seemed to spread like shame over my body. Their lips were surprisingly soft considering how rough the rest of them were. They were building to something but I didn’t know what. Still I struggled as hard as I could. I was hoping that the ties would loosen. No matter what I still had a small amount of hope for escape or make my situation better somehow. That’s almost laughable to think of but it was true.
Each man began to put his cock on me or in me. One started in my mouth and began to fuck me, threatening me if I didn’t do as he said or if I hurt him in any way. I wanted to hurt him but I didn’t because I was far too afraid of them. I hated myself for that, being so spineless. It only got worse. My body began to, in some bizarre way, enjoy the cruel treatment he gave me using my face roughly, choking me with his cock. It was a strange thing. It was very wrong, I thought, to find that exciting despite my revulsion.
One pushed into my vagina roughly making me gasp around the cock in my mouth. He didn’t slide in gently inch-by-inch but he shoved in and hit a place deep inside me, a place that screamed pain all through me. Part of me loved that pain too.
Another went around and determinedly pushed his slippery fingers in my ass. Whoever had been there before gave way to that one or it was the same person who had changed his technique. I thought I was used to what had been done but I was suddenly bucking against his assault. He started with two fingers. It was too much.
He never stopped though. His slippery fingers plunged into my ass over and over until he had three in me. Then he shoved his cock in so fast and so hard I actually screamed against the cock in my mouth. I felt as if I were being split open back there at first.
The cock in my mouth was just shoved in deeper. It made me worry that I would throw up on him. I could feel and taste the bile in my throat. I hated him but in a way I loved what he was doing. Even with his cock shoving in and out, nearly making me retch I felt a strange fusion of excitement. I was scared too because I didn’t know what he would do if I did throw up on him. Still everything that was happening was bad enough. Could it really get worse, I wondered?
I was amazed at what they were doing. What sort of people would do all this? One man went around and started fucking my toes. Another pulled roughly at my small breasts, climbed on top of the contraption they had me tied to and on me, then stroked into the valley he’d made there as he clawed at and molded my boobs. The last one began to push at the backs of my knees with his cock. He soon moved around to my armpits and fucked them. When they had all had their fun and expelled their vile slime on or in me, I was relieved. It seemed to me that it was over.
I was very wrong. My body was already aching and wet. My tied areas were feeling abraded from moving as much as I could. I wondered if I were bleeding from fighting the ties so much? It didn’t matter. I couldn’t seem to control either my mind or body completely now. I was losing my sense of self in a way. I was becoming something else.
They began to move around me again. They didn’t bother to get dressed. They put some kind of things on me and inside me. These things they used were made of metal and cold at first. Each one of the men I could see was smiling like a madman. The light of lust and power shone in their eyes. I wanted to rip their eyes out and grind them under my shoes but of course I didn’t have any shoes.
“You need to know how it feels to come. So you can fake that feeling with sincerity each time you are touched by a paying customer or anyone else we let have access to you.” The doctor said.
The others had been pretty quiet. I now knew which of these men were most in charge of the others. I hoped I’d get the chance to make use of that information someday to hurt them all, get even or just to make my lot easier.
I nearly smiled when he talked about making me climax. I hadn’t been able to come since that last time with Ian. I was broken that way. I knew in this one thing I would be able to thwart them.
Ian had taken control of my pleasure. I had happily given it to him. I’d been relieved to let him have that part of me. In a way it took away from my own responsibility to so sinfully enjoy what he did when I let him take charge of my pleasure.
Since I’d been thrown back to these bastards, I had found myself worrying about that on occasion during the past weeks (?) while I’d been sick. When I thought about being free, I wondered if I could ever enjoy sex after all this? Now I was perversely pleased. There was no way they’d get what they wanted out of me. Maybe, they’d even let me go, since I was broken and couldn’t do what they wanted. If they wouldn’t let me go physically, perhaps in spirit they would.
A wisp of a smile touched my lips and swiftly disappeared. The men thought I was close and crowed but they were wrong. I wasn’t close. I never would be close again. Ian still held that part of me hostage to his false love. They turned on the machines now. Vibrations exploded all over me from the machines.
I bucked and moaned not because it was pleasurable to me but because the intensity was too much and it almost hurt. I still wasn’t anywhere close to coming but it was jarring to have that sort of stimulation on or in my most vulnerable and sensitive parts. Now to have all my parts hit at once with such force made me feel something far different than pleasure.
They were only getting started though. Little by little they watched and adjusted the levels of vibration down until they saw what worked better on me. When they got me in a better place with the vibes, they worked up the intensity levels slowly letting for the time being, the machines alone, invade my body.
They were patient. They started to get hard again. I became worried at those signs of further abuse and rape. Yet, I also felt some excitement. I wanted to hurt myself for that. It wasn’t right to feel this way. Why was I? What was I?
I suddenly thought about what people had expected me to do with my life. I realized that I would never become an actress, singer or model now. Even if I got away from them, I couldn’t picture a life outside of here, not really. As much as I wanted it I couldn’t see how to live a normal life after all this. I closed my eyes and tried to do so. I tried hard but I had no vision of a future for myself now. All of those dreams were gone. I was sweating but I felt cold.
I felt let down about my future. It was essentially gone now and yet, in a strange way, I was also freed. I didn’t have to worry about succeeding or failing. I wasn’t being given those choices anymore. A strange sense of peace settled over me even while I was being violated. My body began to feel tight and to tingle but it was still no use. There was no way I was going to come. There was nothing they could do to make that happen. I relaxed even further at that thought even with this strange horrible torture they were so rudely performing. I closed my eyes.
“What is wrong with her?” I heard a voice ask but I didn’t bother to figure out who it was. I just tried not to smile.
“He took control of her and her climaxes. This will take a while. The conditioning will be harder to do now but we will prevail, after all, we have all the time in the world.” The Magician said. It was his voice. I knew it too well now from all those hours with him. He had put me back together in a way but only to bring me to this ruin.
Little by little the men took the machines away except for the one on my clit. They rubbed oils on my body that made my skin feel gradually hotter until I thought I was on fire. The oil was squeezed under the vibe onto my clit too and the machines were put back on and inside me. I was also given a small cup of “water” to drink. Then they started all over again.
I couldn’t stand all of this. They were turning me inside out. I was dripping now. I could feel it. That was wrong of course and should have been embarrassing but I was glad because it helped cut the burning. I wanted to beg for relief but I couldn’t bring myself to do so. They watched me as if I were a science experiment. They fucked me again.
Everywhere their cocks went, in my hair, wedged against and sometimes inside the outer canal of my ear, against my nose, even the hollow of my throat, it felt like I was being punched and couldn’t breathe. They kept on like demons or satyr’s until I was covered inside and out in their juices. These they rubbed, into my skin everywhere the oil was not. Each time I was open anywhere they replaced their cocks with a machine or their machines with a cock plugging my openings until I once again feared and wished that I would not have enough air to live. They wouldn’t make it that simple or that final though; they were meticulous in working their own agenda.
This might have gone on for hours or days. I lost track. I lost my mind. I was crying at some point and begging for them to stop when I had my mouth and throat free to beg with. I felt I was being ripped apart with sensation, and fatigue. Eventually I felt my body building into an orgasm that ripped though me but left me completely unsatisfied.
They laughed and hooted. “Did you hear the sounds you just made?” The Magician asked. I shook my head no as well as I could. This was their cue to mimic that sound and make fun of me. They had recorded it too. They began to play it back both the sound and to project the pictures of me being used and yet coming. I was mortified. I hadn’t known they were recording this. I cried some more and closed my eyes.
“Make your noises again!” They demanded.
They made me practice. They made me sound off at their every touch. They made me squeeze their fingers while they were inside me anywhere. After a while they were satisfied or perhaps just too tired to continue. I had no way of knowing what they would do next or what to expect. They simply stopped without warning and left the room.
I think it took me a while to realize they had stopped. The assault on my body and mind had ended. When this soaked into my head, I opened my eyes and found darkness. I was alone in the dark again. I was naked. I was still restrained. How I wished for someone like the Lady to come for me but I didn’t want her to see how I must look. It was bad enough when I was here before but now I was covered in their sticky fluids like some used thing. Hell I was a used thing. I shuddered at my dark thoughts.
Eventually the orderlies came for me. They cleaned me up and took me back to my padded cell. I thought it was strange to be comforted by it but I was. That horrible cell was safe compared to the conditioning room.
I continued to be conditioned for the next two nights. There were variations but soon I was so mixed up I couldn’t concentrate on the details of what they did. My job was to like it or at least seem to convincingly.
Hunger was now a constant inside me. They allowed me to only eat or drink that which their bodies gave off and some “water.” I was becoming a shell of who I’d been. I was becoming an animal.
The fourth night they told me I was going to The Buffet Room. They said I would be the centerpiece. I had no idea what they meant by this but if food were involved I couldn’t wait. Finally some food! I thought with the sort of hopeful joy only those who have truly been without can appreciate.
I was allowed to bathe. I was strongly encouraged to clean and rinse thoroughly. After I was done, I was inspected which made me feel only slightly embarrassed. I didn’t even think about the difference then in what would cause me embarrassment and what no longer would. I was so eager to go to the buffet and eat. I think I probably had a smile on my face and did exactly as I was told.
It was probably the first day I hadn’t cried in a week. The orderlies told me to lie down on a table and I did. Maybe I should have known what was going to happen but I don’t think such a thing had ever occurred to me or would have. They began to tie me down. It felt right in a way because it was routine now. Some time later I realized things had gone horribly wrong.
I wondered how it came to this? How did I get here, lying tied up, alone and covered in food that I couldn't reach or eat? All sorts of people filed into the room. Their eyes were shiny and full of expectation. I tried to catch some of their eyes with my own green one's, to communicate to them what I wanted and needed and to plead with them. How silly was I to still hope for kindness? It did me no good at all that I could tell.
They began to lick and nibble at me, causing both ripples of heat and shivers, to pass through my body. The sensations traveled and rode my skin pleasantly and that shocked me even more. When had I become so ready for this sort of degradation? I grew moist and needy, moving for them, begging with my hips for what I needed. Some seemed to notice, my heart fluttered feeling that torturous hope and then, after eying my snatch or the food on me they would back to my torso, licking and nibbling at other delectable bits that lay on or in my body.
I whimpered, because I need them to care. I cried because I could see and smell food but I couldn’t get to it. I wanted them to help set me free. I needed them to let me eat. I needed it so badly. I could see them keep looking and eating as they wish continuing to torment me, and please only themselves. If I could have talked, I would have begged them with words. My eyes and body were begging already. Yet I shivered and tried to hold still as their nibbles continued to turn the heat up within me. I realized I needed something more too.
There is nothing much I could do as they devoured the tasty items that laid upon my skin. I struggled a bit, and I enjoyed the mouths, the teeth. Yes, I admit it now, as I could not then. I enjoyed it. I made little mewing sounds around the tube the handlers had put down my throat. How cruel it was for them to do that and to put food there in my very mouth, which I still couldn’t eat.
Tongues slithered over my skin here and there, they fired my nerve endings, and I felt myself dripping with desire. Teeth nipped now and then at me, how I loved that. Pinches were not allowed but there were those too, hard and painful, making me writhe and feel hotter. Lips nibbled and kissed at me but the entire time it seemed they tried to avoid my tits and my pussy except to get to foodstuffs there. Still this was such an incredible moment with men and women’s mouths all over me, I felt like a volcano more as more as they continued. I felt that I would surely erupt in hot gushes soon. My pussy felt so empty, that except for the food stuffed in there, near the top, that it ached to be fucked. I could hardly grasp the concept that I liked this and wanted to be fucked.
I was so consumed, no pun intended, by what was happening that, I didn’t even wonder at having my orgasm building back almost as high as it did with Ian, after I had felt only pathetic shadows of it or nothing at all, for so long. Maybe it was the lack of food for days, or the scenes to which I had been made to acquiesce but it didn’t trouble me at all. I felt what I felt, though I might prefer to hide it. The conditioners and handlers have taken me here so that the shame, which would have been nearly overwhelming to me normally, isn’t so bad. It’s a mere dark whisper now drowned out by the roaring of my needs.
I don’t know how long it went on. Time seemed to stand still. It was marked only by being refilled, nibbled or sucked on. I didn’t mind time then. I loved what was happening almost as much as I was shocked by it and hated it. I was left on the edge for an unbearably wonderful span of time until the buffet was finally over.
I lay there quietly when the thing was done. My body was as tight as a bow drawn and stretched but held forever un-shot. That orgasm never came. I was wishing it had, it had seemed to promising. It was over I thought. Part of me was glad of it part of me despaired that it was. I wondered again at what I was becoming. I heard a noise and rolled my eyes in that direction.
I saw them, then, the other girls like me. Perhaps they were further along the path that I am forced to travel but like me nonetheless. A trainer led them into the room. A pack of them went to me and other packs of them to each of the other girls who have served on the buffet tonight. Oh did I forget to mention the others? The ones I sometimes felt in competition with? It seems to me now that there was almost always someone to compete against there. I was only concerned with me of course. Most of the time, I was just trying to survive despite wanting to no longer exist. Human beings are funny that way aren’t they? How ambivalent we can be about our own lives. Of course I didn’t really feel my life was my own anymore.
The packs were given a single head nod. They fell upon me, or one of the other “buffet centerpieces,” for the night. All the mouths on me were female. I hated them for being so rough but I loved them too even while I thought I’d never be this way with one of them because it was wrong and mean. It makes me laugh now to think of how lofty I still thought of myself even during such a scene.
I began to mew again. My mews became moans as they started to devour my breasts. My nipples were already so excited but pebbled up harder and became longer with their attention. Sweet soft lips can cover and cause hurt in so many wonderful ways. The color of my nipples went from a rose pink to a deeper dusky color. But these girls cared nothing for me; I felt that was the truth then. They cared only for what sustenance they could glean from my body.
My back arched as much as my binds would let it, the spine bowed back, as if their teeth had made an electric sensation that was channeled from my nipples down my spine and throughout my body. My breathing became quicker. They were far rougher than any patron was. Each of them had been starving for this, literally. Each had undergone such hardship. There was no pity for me, nor did I want it. I loved it this way better. I liked it rough like this. Even as I hated and feared them, I loved them. If they or the trainers were to look into my eyes, at that moment, they would have seen that my pupils were so large that the color of my irises were nearly drowned out by the dark blackness of my pupils.
I felt them sliding down my body, licking and biting as they went. I tried to watch them, bending my back and rising up as much as I could within my restraints. My heart pounded out of control as they headed toward my cunt. My breathing became panting. One of them pulled as the flesh around my clit. I let out a ragged groan and fell back again, my eyes half closing. They sucked the food out of my pussy. I groaned again my hips moving in clear response and supplication.
My legs were opened wide and wet for them as they had been all night. I could hear them eating the food scraps. I laid there quivering with desire, brought and held on the edge for so long, my hips bucked at the air and I pant out a begging groan. A shiver rippled through the heat of my body as I thought of them just leaving me at this point. Called off by the trainer they did just that.
I cried from frustration while I was cleaned up. The hateful tube was taken out of me. I was literally shaking from need and all the emotions dragged from me that night.
The handler explained the rules and why I wouldn’t be allowed to eat that first time in the buffet room. I closed my eyes, which burned hot and wet with salt-laced tears. I was hungry in so many ways and none of my hunger would be sated.
That night I was taken not to my padded cell but into the main population of girls in the dorm. There, at first no one would talk to me. I felt like a non-entity, ignored by the rest. Late that night a girl came over sliding through the shadows while the others slept.
“Shh” she warned me when I jerked at her touch. “Let me help you.”
She knew just what to do. Her nails scratched and pulled at my skin with one hand. She sent shivers through my body. All the needs I’d felt that night had jump to the surface with that one raking touch of hers.
Her other hand she held over my mouth to muffle me. I was trying to be quiet but it wasn’t easy because I felt so alive and my body’s nerves were singing under her touches.
My heart was beating too fast with hope and need. She pinched my clit then pulled it stretching it out. I gasped aching and terribly close. She plunged a finger into my cunt easing that aching need to be filled. Again she pulled and pinched my clit. Within minutes I moved spastically with an explosive release. The quickness of it shocked me.
She kissed my mouth. Her lips felt both soft and hard all at once. It was the sort of kiss most men would weep for and never be able to duplicate. My senses seemed dimmed by the roar of orgasm. When I had calmed enough, she moved again.
Soon she bid me to eat at her cunt. I was shocked because it was my first time but eager to repay her in spite of my misgivings and also because I’m hungry. The taste wasn’t what I expected. It was simply warm and sticky. My stomach growled as I lapped at her like I might lap at a bowl of cream. I nibbled at her clit. The way I liked with Ian. I delved into her too, alternating between the two. I found myself enjoying deeply sucking and even tasting her. She eventually moved my head back to her clit and I sucked there, biting gently too until she flooded my mouth. I realized I was happier in those moments than I’ve been in a long while.
She kissed me again. Another velvet and steel kiss from her that made me want to start all over again and which tasted like my own juices. Instead of starting all over again she left me slipping back into the shadows she had come from.
I wanted to find out who she was but I was so tired and my body felt languorous even on my rough cot. I didn’t know her name or face. I only knew her body, how it tasted and felt against my mouth and how her mouth felt against me. I wondered if she would do that again some night. I had no way of knowing. I wished for her to sleep with me and hold me, to make me feel safe. I figured as I drifted off into a deep sleep that I’d had the best and the worst of the Magician’s Court by that time. I was sure nothing else would surprise me here anymore.
Back In The Court of the Magician:
Darkness and its simple relief wrapped in nothingness were ripped painfully from me. Where was I? I was being hit in the chest. I was gagging. I was coughing. Ow! Pain bloomed in my throat as something was shoved down it. Was I in hell? The burning in my throat and the heat of my skin seemed to indicate I was.
Slowly I began to realize just how close I had come to dying. I hadn’t planned it. When I keened that I was alive, I felt a surprising relief. I also felt angry. How dare they rob me of my peace? I hadn’t planned to die but the darkness had been soothing and without pain of any kind. Now I was in the harsh light and pain burned in me, again.
Still I didn’t know where I was. It didn’t seem like hell now because there was a smell that hospitals had, hell wouldn’t smell like that would it? It might, I thought wryly to myself. The people, looked like nurses and doctors not demons and devils. Had Ian rushed to help me? Did he send these medical people?
I was angry too with myself. Why should I want to die for some man who didn’t truly care about me? No matter what he said or did, he couldn’t have truly cared not if he would send me away. Maybe now he would really care and keep me? I wished for that but part of me said he didn’t deserve me now. I also felt I never would deserve to be loved and cared for the way I wanted. Who or what decides if you are worthy or not, I wondered? If it is only myself, I don’t think I will ever feel I am entitled. It was so much better when I thought Ian found me worthwhile.
I cried then. It hurt because my rib cage and everything beneath it was sore but I could only cry bitter sobbing tears, railing against Ian, love, life and myself. I cried often and for long bouts in those days. If not for the IV drip I surely would not have had enough fluids in me to keep on with all the tears I shed. My already abused throat felt all the worse from the nearly constant stream of tears. It seemed to me that my emotions made my esophagus feel even hotter and sorer but I couldn’t stop feeling so hurt or crying.
I could hear people talking from time to time. I could hear machines whirling and hissing. Rarely could I make out who the people were or what they were saying. The few times I could make out their words, the information was lost again whenever I tried to remember it later. Their words like their footsteps seemed to be only temporary sounds signifying nothing terribly important to me.
I don’t know how long I was out of it. I don’t know a lot of things from that time. I remember being very confused. I would think one minute I was in my rooms with Ian and the next that I was free or in a hospital. Time flowed in a pattern I could neither discern nor did I care to examine because I had nothing left, everything was meaningless to me, except the abject misery I felt. I was so tired all the time. I felt so slow and heavy. Nothing was worthwhile to me right then.
What I eventually became aware of was that I was in some sort of medical facility. That gave me some small measure of hope. I was in a public place. That meant I might be free but I was too tired to do much about it. I still had machines helping me breathe, feeding me fluids and other nutrients as well, by the sound I could tell my heart rate was being monitored.
Medical personnel closely monitored me in person as well. In fact, it was hard to sleep because one of them would come in to fool with me in some damned way. I grew tired of blood being drawn, the squeezing of the blood pressure cuff and endless “we” comments. I wanted to swat them away like flies. I wanted to say just let me be, I’ll take my chances. It’s easy to gamble when you don’t much care about the results but the thrill of the game is gone too.
There was a man that came to talk with me everyday. He seemed familiar to me but I couldn’t figure out how for a long time. At first he would talk to me. I could only write because there was a tube down my throat. Even writing tired me out quickly then. Eventually I realized that what he seemed to be doing with me was what we would today call psychotherapy. At that time I simply didn’t care what he wanted. I didn’t question his interest very much. I needed to talk too badly.
As my throat, lungs and emotions would let me, I did just that. I was so mixed up, so hurt. I felt so abandoned that I was eager to be listened to but it wasn’t the same as when Ian listened to me or talked with me. There was no feeling, false or not, of love or caring coming from this man. I found that felt safer in a way but I missed the dream of what Ian and I once had or what I’d hoped we had. I missed it with a nearly physical ache that rattled my soul.
He was far more detached than Ian. My croaking must have been as painful to listen to at first, as it was for me to make, but listen he did. He was so detached; at least it seemed that way to me that I didn’t realize he was working toward a goal. If I had known this simple fact, which I admit should have been obvious, or what his goal was, I would not have been so forthcoming. His goals were not mine. In fact, it turned out he was my enemy though it could be said he helped to put me back together emotionally. He helped me care about myself again and want to live again but I’m not sure that was a good thing.
It took me a while to remember exactly who he was. He was one of my original abductors. The one I’d thought of as The Magician. You may remember me writing about him before. The one who thought he was David Copperfield or something. He was the one with the knife and my clothes, doing what seemed to be, in his mind, almost like magic tricks. I hated him.
Before I figured that out, I poured out my heart to him. Little by little as my throat got better I told him everything that mattered about what had happened. Eventually I was better. The machines were removed day by day. My voice and my strength got better, the soreness faded. I was able to feed myself though food didn’t really appeal. I was able to go to the bathroom on my own eventually though they kept me tied to bed until I rang for help as if they were afraid I’d do something bad.
I was moved then to a sort of padded cell. It was a step up from the machines and being tied to a bed. It meant that at least physically I was better. I think now that I must have been under a suicide watch of sorts. At the time I had far fewer questions or points of reference except the constant questions of why didn’t Ian love me truly, enough to keep me? I also now loathed The Magician. I knew he was cruel and didn’t care for me as a person at all.
I felt, after a while that the people here only cared about me the way a farmer would care about a pig, cow, chicken or crop. You know, as something that meant money to them when they killed it. It seemed to me they were arguing about me and perhaps even about Ian early on, but that was probably my imagination. I really don’t think I was ever that important to them.
I’m not sure how long it took from the time I started the fire in my rooms to the time I was judged ready for conditioning. Even now my thoughts of that time are muddled at best. The food I’d had while physically ill and sick at heart just stopped one day. I wondered why but no one would answer my questions when they checked on me now. I felt diminished in some way. As if I’d lost some unnamed part of myself. They did however give me a little liquid to drink several times a day. It was watery but water wasn’t all that was in it. I was sure of it. Still, what choice did I have? I don’t know what all was in it but I was so thirsty I would have thanked them for anything. I still felt hungry and just, needy but I wasn’t sure what I was needy for exactly either.
Little by little I felt a strange interest in sex again. It wasn’t as if I wanted to go there really. My body though seemed to be more and more ready without my mind being a willing part of the equation. I knew I was on camera and I didn’t want to be seen doing anything. At the time I thought they were assuming I was nuts. I hoped to be able to get out someday. I didn’t want to give them any ammunition to keep me there. So I never tried to masturbate or take care of my needs in anyway.
A few days later I found myself in the “conditioning” room again, the room that I’d first been taken to after I was abducted. As the orderlies strapped me to the device this second time, I went numb. I wasn’t in a hospital after all, the whole time I’d been in the Magician’s Court. I’d thought there might be a way out but now I wasn’t so sure at all. I felt hopelessness dragging me down again.
I waited there in the darkness. My hospital gown was open in the back. The coolness of the air and the device I was strapped to made me feel so vulnerable. Of course that was no illusion I was completely vulnerable. I thought about the Lady who had come for me once and wished for her. She’d been nicer to me than my abductors. I’d lick her shoes again, or do most anything she wanted, if only she would come into the room and not that pack of jackals. My heart was beating wildly as I prayed for her or someone gentle and loving soul to come in. Ian’s words, echoed in my mind. “You need it rougher.”
The light snapped on, blinding me. My heart rate increased from apprehension and hope. I tried to see who had come into the room. I heard several different food steps at least two sets, maybe more. I wanted to sob but held myself in check while my hopes plummeted.
“Now, we’ve been here before haven’t we?” A voice said. The voice was as smooth as a snake.
“We had to stop before but not this time. Your conditioning will proceed as it should this time.” He chuckled and continued. “And this is only the first step on a very long road.” The Magician was speaking. I knew his voice even if I couldn’t seem him. He said it with not a trace of true caring for me. He seemed to be relishing watching me squirm. I decided to give him as little reaction as possible.
Then other men came in, the ones that had been there before. I saw their faces again all round me. I cried. Just like that my resolve broke. I felt like a bag of potatoes getting so mushy when once I was hard and tough. I begged them to please stop.
“Why? What possible reason would we have to stop? Oh, let me guess, we have the wrong girl. Isn’t that it?” The doctor said in a nasty tone. He was further in the room than the newer arrivals were. I saw him go around to the foot of the device and look between my legs.
“Yes!” I said. A flush of heat rose all over my body from embarrassment of knowing where he was looking.
“And next I guess you’ll say you’re a virgin right?” He said. His hands examined my vagina while he said it. Satisfied he raised his head and leered at me knowing full well that wasn’t the case. I wasn’t a virgin anymore. They’d sold that part of me. I’d willingly given that, in love and trust or maybe just stupidity, to someone who’d thrown me away the minute he was done.
I was such a fool. Is it better to have loved and lost? I didn’t think so then. I was glad they couldn’t take my virginities though. Even though I’d been a fool, I’d still made sure they couldn’t take that. It was a very small satisfaction to have but it was all I had to hold onto in my mind. My tears were sliding down my face, hot and wet. I was shivering all over from fear, self-loathing and mortification.
“No.” I said crying harder now.
“No, because you are a whore. We sold you before. You are no longer a virgin. You will be sold here over and over again. You are our whore now. You will learn to do as you are told and SHUT UP!” Roared the Magician.
Slowly he worked at cutting off the white Johnny gown. It was barely there and didn’t even cover up everything but he cut it off just for the effect. I knew it. I understood that was why he was doing this but it still affected me. I bit back any further begging. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction but the damned tears continued, making my neck warm, wet and itchy.
As soon as he pulled the gown from my body in his typical display of “magic,” I felt their fingers going all over my body. There were fingers pinching my nipples, dragging down my skin, pulling at my lips and clit, and then plunging into me. I felt them invading my vagina, my ass, my mouth, nose and ears. If they kept on this way, I feared I would suffocate with them in my flesh. A tiny voice inside of me said, “yes, please,” to such horrors. I wanted to scream then. I was supposed to be a good girl but deep inside what was I?
I pulled away whenever I could but with the way they had me tied I couldn’t move much at all. In a way they were being careful I guess, because I didn’t suffocate but they scared me with that over and over. I think they knew what they were doing to my mind and enjoyed it as much as what they were doing to my body.
Hands slid over my body. They were rough hands. Not soft like Ian’s, not gentle like his usually were either, because they didn’t love me. This line of thinking distracted me a little but confused me too because Ian hadn’t really loved me either now had he? I had wanted him to be rougher with me too but now I wanted these rough men to leave me alone. My heart still wanted to be with Ian or someone like him, someone who wasn’t false.
My legs were spread open. My ass was exposed. I couldn’t move my neck much or I’d choke myself. I thought hard about that fact. It seemed almost an attractive thing at the time. In a way, I wanted to choke myself. My ankles were tied far apart. My legs and thighs were also tied but the backs of my knees and my ass were exposed, the device was designed to be open there.
My wrists, forearms and biceps were tied as well. I was pretty helpless. I hated it. There were too many of them in the room with me anyway. If I hadn’t have been tied I would have been in a hopeless situation regardless. Why then, I wondered did I have to be tied so? What on earth could they be planning? I mean they could have done anything with me, controlled me in so many ways all without tying me down. So why had they done this?
They went slowly at first. Taking possession of my body with their hands and mouths. I could feel fingers and teeth all over me. The wetness of their fowl mouths seemed to spread like shame over my body. Their lips were surprisingly soft considering how rough the rest of them were. They were building to something but I didn’t know what. Still I struggled as hard as I could. I was hoping that the ties would loosen. No matter what I still had a small amount of hope for escape or make my situation better somehow. That’s almost laughable to think of but it was true.
Each man began to put his cock on me or in me. One started in my mouth and began to fuck me, threatening me if I didn’t do as he said or if I hurt him in any way. I wanted to hurt him but I didn’t because I was far too afraid of them. I hated myself for that, being so spineless. It only got worse. My body began to, in some bizarre way, enjoy the cruel treatment he gave me using my face roughly, choking me with his cock. It was a strange thing. It was very wrong, I thought, to find that exciting despite my revulsion.
One pushed into my vagina roughly making me gasp around the cock in my mouth. He didn’t slide in gently inch-by-inch but he shoved in and hit a place deep inside me, a place that screamed pain all through me. Part of me loved that pain too.
Another went around and determinedly pushed his slippery fingers in my ass. Whoever had been there before gave way to that one or it was the same person who had changed his technique. I thought I was used to what had been done but I was suddenly bucking against his assault. He started with two fingers. It was too much.
He never stopped though. His slippery fingers plunged into my ass over and over until he had three in me. Then he shoved his cock in so fast and so hard I actually screamed against the cock in my mouth. I felt as if I were being split open back there at first.
The cock in my mouth was just shoved in deeper. It made me worry that I would throw up on him. I could feel and taste the bile in my throat. I hated him but in a way I loved what he was doing. Even with his cock shoving in and out, nearly making me retch I felt a strange fusion of excitement. I was scared too because I didn’t know what he would do if I did throw up on him. Still everything that was happening was bad enough. Could it really get worse, I wondered?
I was amazed at what they were doing. What sort of people would do all this? One man went around and started fucking my toes. Another pulled roughly at my small breasts, climbed on top of the contraption they had me tied to and on me, then stroked into the valley he’d made there as he clawed at and molded my boobs. The last one began to push at the backs of my knees with his cock. He soon moved around to my armpits and fucked them. When they had all had their fun and expelled their vile slime on or in me, I was relieved. It seemed to me that it was over.
I was very wrong. My body was already aching and wet. My tied areas were feeling abraded from moving as much as I could. I wondered if I were bleeding from fighting the ties so much? It didn’t matter. I couldn’t seem to control either my mind or body completely now. I was losing my sense of self in a way. I was becoming something else.
They began to move around me again. They didn’t bother to get dressed. They put some kind of things on me and inside me. These things they used were made of metal and cold at first. Each one of the men I could see was smiling like a madman. The light of lust and power shone in their eyes. I wanted to rip their eyes out and grind them under my shoes but of course I didn’t have any shoes.
“You need to know how it feels to come. So you can fake that feeling with sincerity each time you are touched by a paying customer or anyone else we let have access to you.” The doctor said.
The others had been pretty quiet. I now knew which of these men were most in charge of the others. I hoped I’d get the chance to make use of that information someday to hurt them all, get even or just to make my lot easier.
I nearly smiled when he talked about making me climax. I hadn’t been able to come since that last time with Ian. I was broken that way. I knew in this one thing I would be able to thwart them.
Ian had taken control of my pleasure. I had happily given it to him. I’d been relieved to let him have that part of me. In a way it took away from my own responsibility to so sinfully enjoy what he did when I let him take charge of my pleasure.
Since I’d been thrown back to these bastards, I had found myself worrying about that on occasion during the past weeks (?) while I’d been sick. When I thought about being free, I wondered if I could ever enjoy sex after all this? Now I was perversely pleased. There was no way they’d get what they wanted out of me. Maybe, they’d even let me go, since I was broken and couldn’t do what they wanted. If they wouldn’t let me go physically, perhaps in spirit they would.
A wisp of a smile touched my lips and swiftly disappeared. The men thought I was close and crowed but they were wrong. I wasn’t close. I never would be close again. Ian still held that part of me hostage to his false love. They turned on the machines now. Vibrations exploded all over me from the machines.
I bucked and moaned not because it was pleasurable to me but because the intensity was too much and it almost hurt. I still wasn’t anywhere close to coming but it was jarring to have that sort of stimulation on or in my most vulnerable and sensitive parts. Now to have all my parts hit at once with such force made me feel something far different than pleasure.
They were only getting started though. Little by little they watched and adjusted the levels of vibration down until they saw what worked better on me. When they got me in a better place with the vibes, they worked up the intensity levels slowly letting for the time being, the machines alone, invade my body.
They were patient. They started to get hard again. I became worried at those signs of further abuse and rape. Yet, I also felt some excitement. I wanted to hurt myself for that. It wasn’t right to feel this way. Why was I? What was I?
I suddenly thought about what people had expected me to do with my life. I realized that I would never become an actress, singer or model now. Even if I got away from them, I couldn’t picture a life outside of here, not really. As much as I wanted it I couldn’t see how to live a normal life after all this. I closed my eyes and tried to do so. I tried hard but I had no vision of a future for myself now. All of those dreams were gone. I was sweating but I felt cold.
I felt let down about my future. It was essentially gone now and yet, in a strange way, I was also freed. I didn’t have to worry about succeeding or failing. I wasn’t being given those choices anymore. A strange sense of peace settled over me even while I was being violated. My body began to feel tight and to tingle but it was still no use. There was no way I was going to come. There was nothing they could do to make that happen. I relaxed even further at that thought even with this strange horrible torture they were so rudely performing. I closed my eyes.
“What is wrong with her?” I heard a voice ask but I didn’t bother to figure out who it was. I just tried not to smile.
“He took control of her and her climaxes. This will take a while. The conditioning will be harder to do now but we will prevail, after all, we have all the time in the world.” The Magician said. It was his voice. I knew it too well now from all those hours with him. He had put me back together in a way but only to bring me to this ruin.
Little by little the men took the machines away except for the one on my clit. They rubbed oils on my body that made my skin feel gradually hotter until I thought I was on fire. The oil was squeezed under the vibe onto my clit too and the machines were put back on and inside me. I was also given a small cup of “water” to drink. Then they started all over again.
I couldn’t stand all of this. They were turning me inside out. I was dripping now. I could feel it. That was wrong of course and should have been embarrassing but I was glad because it helped cut the burning. I wanted to beg for relief but I couldn’t bring myself to do so. They watched me as if I were a science experiment. They fucked me again.
Everywhere their cocks went, in my hair, wedged against and sometimes inside the outer canal of my ear, against my nose, even the hollow of my throat, it felt like I was being punched and couldn’t breathe. They kept on like demons or satyr’s until I was covered inside and out in their juices. These they rubbed, into my skin everywhere the oil was not. Each time I was open anywhere they replaced their cocks with a machine or their machines with a cock plugging my openings until I once again feared and wished that I would not have enough air to live. They wouldn’t make it that simple or that final though; they were meticulous in working their own agenda.
This might have gone on for hours or days. I lost track. I lost my mind. I was crying at some point and begging for them to stop when I had my mouth and throat free to beg with. I felt I was being ripped apart with sensation, and fatigue. Eventually I felt my body building into an orgasm that ripped though me but left me completely unsatisfied.
They laughed and hooted. “Did you hear the sounds you just made?” The Magician asked. I shook my head no as well as I could. This was their cue to mimic that sound and make fun of me. They had recorded it too. They began to play it back both the sound and to project the pictures of me being used and yet coming. I was mortified. I hadn’t known they were recording this. I cried some more and closed my eyes.
“Make your noises again!” They demanded.
They made me practice. They made me sound off at their every touch. They made me squeeze their fingers while they were inside me anywhere. After a while they were satisfied or perhaps just too tired to continue. I had no way of knowing what they would do next or what to expect. They simply stopped without warning and left the room.
I think it took me a while to realize they had stopped. The assault on my body and mind had ended. When this soaked into my head, I opened my eyes and found darkness. I was alone in the dark again. I was naked. I was still restrained. How I wished for someone like the Lady to come for me but I didn’t want her to see how I must look. It was bad enough when I was here before but now I was covered in their sticky fluids like some used thing. Hell I was a used thing. I shuddered at my dark thoughts.
Eventually the orderlies came for me. They cleaned me up and took me back to my padded cell. I thought it was strange to be comforted by it but I was. That horrible cell was safe compared to the conditioning room.
I continued to be conditioned for the next two nights. There were variations but soon I was so mixed up I couldn’t concentrate on the details of what they did. My job was to like it or at least seem to convincingly.
Hunger was now a constant inside me. They allowed me to only eat or drink that which their bodies gave off and some “water.” I was becoming a shell of who I’d been. I was becoming an animal.
The fourth night they told me I was going to The Buffet Room. They said I would be the centerpiece. I had no idea what they meant by this but if food were involved I couldn’t wait. Finally some food! I thought with the sort of hopeful joy only those who have truly been without can appreciate.
I was allowed to bathe. I was strongly encouraged to clean and rinse thoroughly. After I was done, I was inspected which made me feel only slightly embarrassed. I didn’t even think about the difference then in what would cause me embarrassment and what no longer would. I was so eager to go to the buffet and eat. I think I probably had a smile on my face and did exactly as I was told.
It was probably the first day I hadn’t cried in a week. The orderlies told me to lie down on a table and I did. Maybe I should have known what was going to happen but I don’t think such a thing had ever occurred to me or would have. They began to tie me down. It felt right in a way because it was routine now. Some time later I realized things had gone horribly wrong.
I wondered how it came to this? How did I get here, lying tied up, alone and covered in food that I couldn't reach or eat? All sorts of people filed into the room. Their eyes were shiny and full of expectation. I tried to catch some of their eyes with my own green one's, to communicate to them what I wanted and needed and to plead with them. How silly was I to still hope for kindness? It did me no good at all that I could tell.
They began to lick and nibble at me, causing both ripples of heat and shivers, to pass through my body. The sensations traveled and rode my skin pleasantly and that shocked me even more. When had I become so ready for this sort of degradation? I grew moist and needy, moving for them, begging with my hips for what I needed. Some seemed to notice, my heart fluttered feeling that torturous hope and then, after eying my snatch or the food on me they would back to my torso, licking and nibbling at other delectable bits that lay on or in my body.
I whimpered, because I need them to care. I cried because I could see and smell food but I couldn’t get to it. I wanted them to help set me free. I needed them to let me eat. I needed it so badly. I could see them keep looking and eating as they wish continuing to torment me, and please only themselves. If I could have talked, I would have begged them with words. My eyes and body were begging already. Yet I shivered and tried to hold still as their nibbles continued to turn the heat up within me. I realized I needed something more too.
There is nothing much I could do as they devoured the tasty items that laid upon my skin. I struggled a bit, and I enjoyed the mouths, the teeth. Yes, I admit it now, as I could not then. I enjoyed it. I made little mewing sounds around the tube the handlers had put down my throat. How cruel it was for them to do that and to put food there in my very mouth, which I still couldn’t eat.
Tongues slithered over my skin here and there, they fired my nerve endings, and I felt myself dripping with desire. Teeth nipped now and then at me, how I loved that. Pinches were not allowed but there were those too, hard and painful, making me writhe and feel hotter. Lips nibbled and kissed at me but the entire time it seemed they tried to avoid my tits and my pussy except to get to foodstuffs there. Still this was such an incredible moment with men and women’s mouths all over me, I felt like a volcano more as more as they continued. I felt that I would surely erupt in hot gushes soon. My pussy felt so empty, that except for the food stuffed in there, near the top, that it ached to be fucked. I could hardly grasp the concept that I liked this and wanted to be fucked.
I was so consumed, no pun intended, by what was happening that, I didn’t even wonder at having my orgasm building back almost as high as it did with Ian, after I had felt only pathetic shadows of it or nothing at all, for so long. Maybe it was the lack of food for days, or the scenes to which I had been made to acquiesce but it didn’t trouble me at all. I felt what I felt, though I might prefer to hide it. The conditioners and handlers have taken me here so that the shame, which would have been nearly overwhelming to me normally, isn’t so bad. It’s a mere dark whisper now drowned out by the roaring of my needs.
I don’t know how long it went on. Time seemed to stand still. It was marked only by being refilled, nibbled or sucked on. I didn’t mind time then. I loved what was happening almost as much as I was shocked by it and hated it. I was left on the edge for an unbearably wonderful span of time until the buffet was finally over.
I lay there quietly when the thing was done. My body was as tight as a bow drawn and stretched but held forever un-shot. That orgasm never came. I was wishing it had, it had seemed to promising. It was over I thought. Part of me was glad of it part of me despaired that it was. I wondered again at what I was becoming. I heard a noise and rolled my eyes in that direction.
I saw them, then, the other girls like me. Perhaps they were further along the path that I am forced to travel but like me nonetheless. A trainer led them into the room. A pack of them went to me and other packs of them to each of the other girls who have served on the buffet tonight. Oh did I forget to mention the others? The ones I sometimes felt in competition with? It seems to me now that there was almost always someone to compete against there. I was only concerned with me of course. Most of the time, I was just trying to survive despite wanting to no longer exist. Human beings are funny that way aren’t they? How ambivalent we can be about our own lives. Of course I didn’t really feel my life was my own anymore.
The packs were given a single head nod. They fell upon me, or one of the other “buffet centerpieces,” for the night. All the mouths on me were female. I hated them for being so rough but I loved them too even while I thought I’d never be this way with one of them because it was wrong and mean. It makes me laugh now to think of how lofty I still thought of myself even during such a scene.
I began to mew again. My mews became moans as they started to devour my breasts. My nipples were already so excited but pebbled up harder and became longer with their attention. Sweet soft lips can cover and cause hurt in so many wonderful ways. The color of my nipples went from a rose pink to a deeper dusky color. But these girls cared nothing for me; I felt that was the truth then. They cared only for what sustenance they could glean from my body.
My back arched as much as my binds would let it, the spine bowed back, as if their teeth had made an electric sensation that was channeled from my nipples down my spine and throughout my body. My breathing became quicker. They were far rougher than any patron was. Each of them had been starving for this, literally. Each had undergone such hardship. There was no pity for me, nor did I want it. I loved it this way better. I liked it rough like this. Even as I hated and feared them, I loved them. If they or the trainers were to look into my eyes, at that moment, they would have seen that my pupils were so large that the color of my irises were nearly drowned out by the dark blackness of my pupils.
I felt them sliding down my body, licking and biting as they went. I tried to watch them, bending my back and rising up as much as I could within my restraints. My heart pounded out of control as they headed toward my cunt. My breathing became panting. One of them pulled as the flesh around my clit. I let out a ragged groan and fell back again, my eyes half closing. They sucked the food out of my pussy. I groaned again my hips moving in clear response and supplication.
My legs were opened wide and wet for them as they had been all night. I could hear them eating the food scraps. I laid there quivering with desire, brought and held on the edge for so long, my hips bucked at the air and I pant out a begging groan. A shiver rippled through the heat of my body as I thought of them just leaving me at this point. Called off by the trainer they did just that.
I cried from frustration while I was cleaned up. The hateful tube was taken out of me. I was literally shaking from need and all the emotions dragged from me that night.
The handler explained the rules and why I wouldn’t be allowed to eat that first time in the buffet room. I closed my eyes, which burned hot and wet with salt-laced tears. I was hungry in so many ways and none of my hunger would be sated.
That night I was taken not to my padded cell but into the main population of girls in the dorm. There, at first no one would talk to me. I felt like a non-entity, ignored by the rest. Late that night a girl came over sliding through the shadows while the others slept.
“Shh” she warned me when I jerked at her touch. “Let me help you.”
She knew just what to do. Her nails scratched and pulled at my skin with one hand. She sent shivers through my body. All the needs I’d felt that night had jump to the surface with that one raking touch of hers.
Her other hand she held over my mouth to muffle me. I was trying to be quiet but it wasn’t easy because I felt so alive and my body’s nerves were singing under her touches.
My heart was beating too fast with hope and need. She pinched my clit then pulled it stretching it out. I gasped aching and terribly close. She plunged a finger into my cunt easing that aching need to be filled. Again she pulled and pinched my clit. Within minutes I moved spastically with an explosive release. The quickness of it shocked me.
She kissed my mouth. Her lips felt both soft and hard all at once. It was the sort of kiss most men would weep for and never be able to duplicate. My senses seemed dimmed by the roar of orgasm. When I had calmed enough, she moved again.
Soon she bid me to eat at her cunt. I was shocked because it was my first time but eager to repay her in spite of my misgivings and also because I’m hungry. The taste wasn’t what I expected. It was simply warm and sticky. My stomach growled as I lapped at her like I might lap at a bowl of cream. I nibbled at her clit. The way I liked with Ian. I delved into her too, alternating between the two. I found myself enjoying deeply sucking and even tasting her. She eventually moved my head back to her clit and I sucked there, biting gently too until she flooded my mouth. I realized I was happier in those moments than I’ve been in a long while.
She kissed me again. Another velvet and steel kiss from her that made me want to start all over again and which tasted like my own juices. Instead of starting all over again she left me slipping back into the shadows she had come from.
I wanted to find out who she was but I was so tired and my body felt languorous even on my rough cot. I didn’t know her name or face. I only knew her body, how it tasted and felt against my mouth and how her mouth felt against me. I wondered if she would do that again some night. I had no way of knowing. I wished for her to sleep with me and hold me, to make me feel safe. I figured as I drifted off into a deep sleep that I’d had the best and the worst of the Magician’s Court by that time. I was sure nothing else would surprise me here anymore.
FurryFury
Addict of Sensation
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I did a sort of rehash of Buffets from a slightly different perspective. See I told y'all The Daddy Room, Buffets, Hoses and FiFi the Fuck Poodle rooms were in here. There are a few more I've never mentioned too.
I am not feeling inspired to write the next part so just for fun if anyone has any "room" ideas or comments, hit me with them?!?
I WISH I had lived this, it's my fantasy but then again, it's terrible isn't it? So I don't wish but I do. Hmm. *L*
Fury
I am not feeling inspired to write the next part so just for fun if anyone has any "room" ideas or comments, hit me with them?!?
I WISH I had lived this, it's my fantasy but then again, it's terrible isn't it? So I don't wish but I do. Hmm. *L*
Fury
Stegral
Founder of the BJSP :)
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FurryFury said:I WISH I had lived this, it's my fantasy but then again, it's terrible isn't it? So I don't wish but I do. Hmm. *L*
Fury
Why is it terrible??? maybe from a tight assed vanilla person...but we all have those hidden desires... some are brave enough to bring them out... others stifle them & never know & probably regret it
FurryFury
Addict of Sensation
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Stegral said:Why is it terrible??? maybe from a tight assed vanilla person...but we all have those hidden desires... some are brave enough to bring them out... others stifle them & never know & probably regret it
Well, it's non consent with the fantasy of liking it, that's sort of terrible isn't it?
Fury
PS, I think I might have a fairly tight ass. At least that is what He says. *c* I don't think it's totally nilla though.
Hisbabydoll26
Just..tired
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Thank You...
Fury.....Thank you for taking time to write this out. Always a big fan because you take me places I don't usually get to go. Interesting way to see a buffet. My kind of all you can eat. *giggling*
Fury.....Thank you for taking time to write this out. Always a big fan because you take me places I don't usually get to go. Interesting way to see a buffet. My kind of all you can eat. *giggling*
FurryFury
Addict of Sensation
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Hisbabydoll26 said:Fury.....Thank you for taking time to write this out. Always a big fan because you take me places I don't usually get to go. Interesting way to see a buffet. My kind of all you can eat. *giggling*
*smiles*
Hi Hisbabydoll!
I'm so glad you enjoyed it. I felt like I was sort of re-hashing the Abduction and Buffets so I did them in a bit more nasty detail and from a perhaps, slightly different perspective which may make them hotter or not. I'm not sure.
The other night I met a friend for coffee and (as it turned out,) dinner. We had a great time. We laughed, cried, hugged, and talked. It was a rare and lovely moment in time.
During that however, it occurred to me, hey, I should have done this or that thing in the story. *grr* There is always more to be written, details that slipped your mind or weren't thought of at all and so on.
*looks chagrined*
Fury
FurryFury
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For those who may or may not have an interest in this thread, I have about seven pages done on the next chapter so far.
Now some help please?
What if anything can you think of that a person could find in a bathroom or kitchen to fuck someone's ass with when they don't have a strap on handy? This isn't her bathroom or kitchen but she is in a guest house owned by her perverted father. It should not be something classified as a sex toy but a found household item. I need to know for an SRP I'm doing. It's pretty HOT! (IMO.)
Fury
Now some help please?
What if anything can you think of that a person could find in a bathroom or kitchen to fuck someone's ass with when they don't have a strap on handy? This isn't her bathroom or kitchen but she is in a guest house owned by her perverted father. It should not be something classified as a sex toy but a found household item. I need to know for an SRP I'm doing. It's pretty HOT! (IMO.)
Fury
Salvor-Hardon
A kiss is still a kiss
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Hair brush handle
Toilet plunger handle if its to be rough and ragged
Be wicked cruel and the spindle of a toilet paper holder and use the spring action to make little thuddy thumps
Wooden spoons
Wine bottle for the stretching folks
Wire wisk
Rolling pin
Let me think a bit more and see what else I can come up with
Toilet plunger handle if its to be rough and ragged
Be wicked cruel and the spindle of a toilet paper holder and use the spring action to make little thuddy thumps
Wooden spoons
Wine bottle for the stretching folks
Wire wisk
Rolling pin
Let me think a bit more and see what else I can come up with
Last edited:
Stegral
Founder of the BJSP :)
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FurryFury said:For those who may or may not have an interest in this thread, I have about seven pages done on the next chapter so far.
Now some help please?
What if anything can you think of that a person could find in a bathroom or kitchen to fuck someone's ass with when they don't have a strap on handy? This isn't her bathroom or kitchen but she is in a guest house owned by her perverted father. It should not be something classified as a sex toy but a found household item. I need to know for an SRP I'm doing. It's pretty HOT! (IMO.)
Fury
Crevice tool from the vacuum
Mop handle
Baby bottle
Tall Spice shakers (salt & pepper)
Plunger handle
Shampoo/conditioner bottle
Toothpaste tubes
This is about all I can think of besides the already mentioned....
ScarlettRose
just me
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don't forget hairbrush handles! depending on the type. Oh and if there happens to be a tool kit laying around the kitchen... a screwdriver (the handle!) or ratchet handle.
ScarlettRose
just me
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oh and don't forget a feather duster for that lovely "tail" look
FurryFury
Addict of Sensation
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Okay, I'm close now to posting another section of the story. What I have right now is ten pages or so. However it includes more than one "room."
So what do y'all think? Should I break it up into rooms and do each room as a stand alone piece? Or should I just serve up the whole messy ten pages?
And who if anyone would like to read over my draft of this and advise me on it? If so, PM me. "There can be only one."
Or have folks lost any interest in this story?
Fury
So what do y'all think? Should I break it up into rooms and do each room as a stand alone piece? Or should I just serve up the whole messy ten pages?
And who if anyone would like to read over my draft of this and advise me on it? If so, PM me. "There can be only one."
Or have folks lost any interest in this story?
Fury
Stegral
Founder of the BJSP :)
- Joined
- Aug 13, 2005
- Posts
- 8,007
FurryFury said:Okay, I'm close now to posting another section of the story. What I have right now is ten pages or so. However it includes more than one "room."
So what do y'all think? Should I break it up into rooms and do each room as a stand alone piece? Or should I just serve up the whole messy ten pages?
And who if anyone would like to read over my draft of this and advise me on it? If so, PM me. "There can be only one."
Or have folks lost any interest in this story?
Fury
OOOOOO ME ME ME !!!!
FurryFury
Addict of Sensation
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The First Night Room:
The First Night Room
The next day I felt sluggish but there was no time for it. I found myself on a strict schedule of lessons and forced sex. I was glad that it had been so dark the night before. What I had done with the other girl hadn’t been found out as far as I could tell. Somehow I didn’t think the people who ran this hell would like what we had done. I didn’t care if they did or not. It was the first really nice thing that had happened to me here. Still I’d rather it not be found out because I didn’t know what they might do about it if they didn’t approve.
I thought all day about the differences between men and women. I wondered if I were turning into a lesbian. I thought it would make sense under my current circumstances. I didn’t even know who she was. That fact shocked me. Such sweet warm lips, such a perfect touch and I didn’t know who she was. During the day I’d look at the other girls for some clue but none seemed evident. The truth was though that I was still attracted to men, at least I thought I was, just not these men. I decided I’d take kindness and care anyway I could get it. I would not be ashamed of enjoying another woman. Not when the men around me were such brutes.
This woman had not been gentle though. Her skin had been soft, so very soft but underneath she was rough and hard. She had been just perfect for what I’d needed. It was like she knew my body better than I did. What she had done was a gift to me and caused an awakening of sorts. I wanted it to happen again. Only I couldn’t figure out which of these bitches she was. They all acted cold to me, or as if I didn’t exist. Could they have done anything crueler? What is worse, neglect, abuse or indifference? I would have thought we would all help one another if we could. Maybe they helped out one another but except for my shadowed lover none of them had ever acted like I was even in the same room with them.
My life, such as it was, had become a charade here. Pretend you are coming. Pretend to enjoy being touched or fucked. Pretending was required. Whenever I was told to do so and I was told to do so all too often. I hated it. I hated living a lie. I hated acting as if I enjoyed what was being done. I felt stilted at first in this but eventually it got easier to do. It seemed there was always some new sort of service to learn too. As much as I hated this place, the constant stream of new things to learn or endure was interesting in it’s own way.
I think my mother might have been pleased to find out I was learning so arrange flowers, play the piano, draw a ball room dance and so on. It was almost like a finishing school except for the nearly constant humiliation and forced sex.
You might think it strange but I settled into the routine easier than I would have expected. I wanted so much to be liked or valued. I missed the value Ian had seemed to place on me. I missed feeling as if I mattered to someone. The girls continued to ignore me but the teachers might like me, or so I hoped. I needed someone’s approval particularly when I didn’t have my own. I think I sort of hated myself then. I think I always have but these days crystallized my awareness of that self-hate.
Sometimes one of the trainers would tell me I’d done something well. That would fill me with a warm joy that seemed sick and ridiculous considering the debased nature of most of my tasks. Still, I wanted, no, I needed, care and approval from someone. These fragile tatters of it, that I sometimes got, I could only cling to them and wonder why I was this way? No wonder I hated myself.
I also had to wonder why me? What did they see in me to grab me and force all this on me? Did one of them know me from school or work? Was there some sort of revenge I didn’t know about at work? Or was there some way to see how well I would take to everything? Did it matter? Or did all of the girls feel the same? Could each of us be broken down to accept, and at times, even enjoy, what was done to us?
If only the other girls would talk to me. Except for during the lessons, when it was sometimes required that they talk to me as well as each other, they continued to keep me outside their circle. I had come late to the “party” and that was inexcusable it seemed. I was not acceptable somehow to them. I might have felt the same way if I had been further along in my training here and a new girl came in. I hoped not though. I promised myself to be kinder and more accepting, of anyone who came in, than these girls had been of me.
After my lessons, I was told I would be taken to the “first night” room, that day. I didn’t know what it was. It seemed misnamed because it certainly was far from my first night in the building of this horrible place. I hoped the room wouldn’t be as bad a thing as my wild imagination was making it out to be. I was prepared to act my way through whatever it was. Hey, maybe I would have made a good actress after all, I thought bitterly. At this rate I might qualify for an Oscar before long. The lies were burning into my soul.
The room as it turned out was large. There were a number of people in it when I was wheeled in. I was once again tied down. The stand I was on, was positioned, the wheels locked. The night in this room began. As was usually the case I wasn’t told ahead of time what to expect.
“Ladies and Gentleman, for most of you, this is your first night with us. Many of you have told us you are not sure what you wish to do here, others simply enjoy public sampling, in any case, welcome to The First Night Room.” The announcer paused waiting for the spontaneous polite applause to die down.
“Here we have a piece new to the public. The curtain in front of me rose slowly exposing me to the room of people. If you would like to see her later for more than this room provides that can be arranged. First we will let any who want to put a finger on her or in her to do so. You know the fee.” He said with a hand flourish that might have indicated they look above me.
There were lights in the room behind me. I couldn’t see them they were too high. I couldn’t move my neck much tied as I was. I did see many looking at the lights during the night and counting their money. So I suspected it might have been the price for what they were offering each time.
What they were offering of course was me. I thought it was crazy. Why would anyone think I was that great? Why would people pay for such a small thing I wondered? At the same time I wondered why would anyone think I was nothing more than an object? My thoughts were all mixed up while I considered this.
The “small thing” though was an invasion of my body. It was not so inconsequential to me. I was instructed to “act orgasmic” at each touch too. Really I just wanted to sink through the floor or maybe, bite their damn fingers off.
I think the amount of money was very low for these things. I tried to do as the trainer said and act like each finger that slid along my skin or probed inside me actually excited me but I hated it. I hated being displayed this way. I despised being sold bit by bit. I didn’t like feeling powerless. Part of me wondered what would happen if I don’t do what they say? How much worse could this get?
Then someone did the obvious and slid his large finger between my legs. I felt a shock roll through me because once again, my body was responding to being treated in this debased way. My mind tripped over this simple fact. I hadn’t realized I was wet until his finger squished inside me making it all too clear. I was sick to be excited. I had to be. I needed to talk to someone. I even thought about talking to the Magician about this. I wanted to see what he would say. He was one of my worst enemies but who else was there to talk to? There was no way I could ask to do any such thing and no time. My agenda wasn’t a consideration here.
Next it was mouths. It was too soon for me. I would never be ready for those mouths on me, nipping, sucking, making my skin moist, and worst of all kissing me. Anyone who wanted to and who would pay for it, could put their mouth on me and do as they wished, briefly. It was horrible watching them queue up and pay the (assumed) pittance for this. I found myself disgusted and yet hotter, in turns. Or maybe it was all at once. I’m not sure. I was a very confused girl at that point.
As they continued with increasingly invasive services, it occurred to me that this was simple marketing in a way. Management ultimately wanted these people who didn’t know what they wanted, to make a decision and pay bigger fees for more. I was a sample platter of what they could have. I was the new item on the menu. Some of them, after fingering me or tasting me, might want more and might be willing to pay for it. What I was doing? I was cooperating. It seemed to me that I shouldn’t be. I just couldn’t force myself to rebel; not yet anyway. I was too afraid of my captors and their punishments.
Next they got to touch me with two fingers. That meant they could pinch among other things. After that a whole hand could be used, then two. Last they were allowed to touch me anywhere with their cocks. I endured and pretended to the end. The relief when I was wheeled away from The First Night Room was overwhelming, but all too short lived.
The First Night Room
The next day I felt sluggish but there was no time for it. I found myself on a strict schedule of lessons and forced sex. I was glad that it had been so dark the night before. What I had done with the other girl hadn’t been found out as far as I could tell. Somehow I didn’t think the people who ran this hell would like what we had done. I didn’t care if they did or not. It was the first really nice thing that had happened to me here. Still I’d rather it not be found out because I didn’t know what they might do about it if they didn’t approve.
I thought all day about the differences between men and women. I wondered if I were turning into a lesbian. I thought it would make sense under my current circumstances. I didn’t even know who she was. That fact shocked me. Such sweet warm lips, such a perfect touch and I didn’t know who she was. During the day I’d look at the other girls for some clue but none seemed evident. The truth was though that I was still attracted to men, at least I thought I was, just not these men. I decided I’d take kindness and care anyway I could get it. I would not be ashamed of enjoying another woman. Not when the men around me were such brutes.
This woman had not been gentle though. Her skin had been soft, so very soft but underneath she was rough and hard. She had been just perfect for what I’d needed. It was like she knew my body better than I did. What she had done was a gift to me and caused an awakening of sorts. I wanted it to happen again. Only I couldn’t figure out which of these bitches she was. They all acted cold to me, or as if I didn’t exist. Could they have done anything crueler? What is worse, neglect, abuse or indifference? I would have thought we would all help one another if we could. Maybe they helped out one another but except for my shadowed lover none of them had ever acted like I was even in the same room with them.
My life, such as it was, had become a charade here. Pretend you are coming. Pretend to enjoy being touched or fucked. Pretending was required. Whenever I was told to do so and I was told to do so all too often. I hated it. I hated living a lie. I hated acting as if I enjoyed what was being done. I felt stilted at first in this but eventually it got easier to do. It seemed there was always some new sort of service to learn too. As much as I hated this place, the constant stream of new things to learn or endure was interesting in it’s own way.
I think my mother might have been pleased to find out I was learning so arrange flowers, play the piano, draw a ball room dance and so on. It was almost like a finishing school except for the nearly constant humiliation and forced sex.
You might think it strange but I settled into the routine easier than I would have expected. I wanted so much to be liked or valued. I missed the value Ian had seemed to place on me. I missed feeling as if I mattered to someone. The girls continued to ignore me but the teachers might like me, or so I hoped. I needed someone’s approval particularly when I didn’t have my own. I think I sort of hated myself then. I think I always have but these days crystallized my awareness of that self-hate.
Sometimes one of the trainers would tell me I’d done something well. That would fill me with a warm joy that seemed sick and ridiculous considering the debased nature of most of my tasks. Still, I wanted, no, I needed, care and approval from someone. These fragile tatters of it, that I sometimes got, I could only cling to them and wonder why I was this way? No wonder I hated myself.
I also had to wonder why me? What did they see in me to grab me and force all this on me? Did one of them know me from school or work? Was there some sort of revenge I didn’t know about at work? Or was there some way to see how well I would take to everything? Did it matter? Or did all of the girls feel the same? Could each of us be broken down to accept, and at times, even enjoy, what was done to us?
If only the other girls would talk to me. Except for during the lessons, when it was sometimes required that they talk to me as well as each other, they continued to keep me outside their circle. I had come late to the “party” and that was inexcusable it seemed. I was not acceptable somehow to them. I might have felt the same way if I had been further along in my training here and a new girl came in. I hoped not though. I promised myself to be kinder and more accepting, of anyone who came in, than these girls had been of me.
After my lessons, I was told I would be taken to the “first night” room, that day. I didn’t know what it was. It seemed misnamed because it certainly was far from my first night in the building of this horrible place. I hoped the room wouldn’t be as bad a thing as my wild imagination was making it out to be. I was prepared to act my way through whatever it was. Hey, maybe I would have made a good actress after all, I thought bitterly. At this rate I might qualify for an Oscar before long. The lies were burning into my soul.
The room as it turned out was large. There were a number of people in it when I was wheeled in. I was once again tied down. The stand I was on, was positioned, the wheels locked. The night in this room began. As was usually the case I wasn’t told ahead of time what to expect.
“Ladies and Gentleman, for most of you, this is your first night with us. Many of you have told us you are not sure what you wish to do here, others simply enjoy public sampling, in any case, welcome to The First Night Room.” The announcer paused waiting for the spontaneous polite applause to die down.
“Here we have a piece new to the public. The curtain in front of me rose slowly exposing me to the room of people. If you would like to see her later for more than this room provides that can be arranged. First we will let any who want to put a finger on her or in her to do so. You know the fee.” He said with a hand flourish that might have indicated they look above me.
There were lights in the room behind me. I couldn’t see them they were too high. I couldn’t move my neck much tied as I was. I did see many looking at the lights during the night and counting their money. So I suspected it might have been the price for what they were offering each time.
What they were offering of course was me. I thought it was crazy. Why would anyone think I was that great? Why would people pay for such a small thing I wondered? At the same time I wondered why would anyone think I was nothing more than an object? My thoughts were all mixed up while I considered this.
The “small thing” though was an invasion of my body. It was not so inconsequential to me. I was instructed to “act orgasmic” at each touch too. Really I just wanted to sink through the floor or maybe, bite their damn fingers off.
I think the amount of money was very low for these things. I tried to do as the trainer said and act like each finger that slid along my skin or probed inside me actually excited me but I hated it. I hated being displayed this way. I despised being sold bit by bit. I didn’t like feeling powerless. Part of me wondered what would happen if I don’t do what they say? How much worse could this get?
Then someone did the obvious and slid his large finger between my legs. I felt a shock roll through me because once again, my body was responding to being treated in this debased way. My mind tripped over this simple fact. I hadn’t realized I was wet until his finger squished inside me making it all too clear. I was sick to be excited. I had to be. I needed to talk to someone. I even thought about talking to the Magician about this. I wanted to see what he would say. He was one of my worst enemies but who else was there to talk to? There was no way I could ask to do any such thing and no time. My agenda wasn’t a consideration here.
Next it was mouths. It was too soon for me. I would never be ready for those mouths on me, nipping, sucking, making my skin moist, and worst of all kissing me. Anyone who wanted to and who would pay for it, could put their mouth on me and do as they wished, briefly. It was horrible watching them queue up and pay the (assumed) pittance for this. I found myself disgusted and yet hotter, in turns. Or maybe it was all at once. I’m not sure. I was a very confused girl at that point.
As they continued with increasingly invasive services, it occurred to me that this was simple marketing in a way. Management ultimately wanted these people who didn’t know what they wanted, to make a decision and pay bigger fees for more. I was a sample platter of what they could have. I was the new item on the menu. Some of them, after fingering me or tasting me, might want more and might be willing to pay for it. What I was doing? I was cooperating. It seemed to me that I shouldn’t be. I just couldn’t force myself to rebel; not yet anyway. I was too afraid of my captors and their punishments.
Next they got to touch me with two fingers. That meant they could pinch among other things. After that a whole hand could be used, then two. Last they were allowed to touch me anywhere with their cocks. I endured and pretended to the end. The relief when I was wheeled away from The First Night Room was overwhelming, but all too short lived.
