Belly of the Beast Pt. 02 - Gilded Cage

Wiggling and wabbling in my matching navy-blue bra and thong for the benefit of Mr Whiskers, I complied with the brunette's request for my "lacy -- frillies. I've got to have them too." I saw his heart skip a beat when I purposefully took my hands off the top of my head and reached behind my back to unclasp the bra. Adroitly catching it in my hands, I shielded my boobs for an instant before I passed the bra through the slit. Feeling the padding of the bra, the brunette grunted, "no key."

I bent over to remove my thong and flung it through the slit.

Red addressed me while Missy fingered the padding in my bra, "Warbler, AW -- 2029 -- ST-- F -- 49651, correct?" Receiving a nod, she proceeded to verify my height 5 ft 3 in, weight 125 lbs, age "24," sex," Female," sexual orientation, "bi -- hetero contact preferred."

When my response to children/pregnancies, "I wish," drew some snickers, I corrected myself, "none." I denied allergies and affirmed good general health. I denied using birth control with the comment, "No need, my husband is away."

Red chuckled, "That's when you need it most." When I gave the date of my last period as two weeks past, Red snickered, "Mr Whiskers, you get a clean one for a change as soon as Missy finishes toying with her underwear."

"Cautiously dangling my thong by its elastic waistband, Missy, the brunette reported with bulging eyes, "It's little bigger than an eye-patch. No place to hide a key in here. It's up to you Mr Whiskers."

"Hands on your head, Ms Warbler," Whiskers ordered, "stand in front of the door. We'll buzz you in."

Stepping bare footed inside out onto a concrete floor, I screeched, as I entered the Belly of the Beast, "Damn that's cold."

"Don't worry sweetie, I'll warm you up soon enough," Mr Whiskers vowed as he grabbed my arm to guide me to the podium. When I glared contemptuously at his hand, he snapped the threat, "we're going to get a lot more intimate sweet stuff." With an innocent expression, he added, "I promise."

"My husband is a marine, he'll break you in two you for touching me," I retorted, "If I don't enjoy the experience, he'll take your chestnuts for disappointing me."

"I already broke that tough bitch," Whiskers responded.

"My guy believes Sergeant Meyers is tough enough," I parried with Whiskers, "to be allowed to watch."

Positioning me on the platform, Whiskers suggested, "You've been cooperative -- so far. We can start with the easy stuff -- Face Left. Let's start with the photos," Whiskers promised with a churlish smile, "I'll make an extra copy for your husband."

Ordered to stand straight, chest out, hands at your sides, I shot back, "An extra copy for my Jerry will remind him what's waiting for him. He's worn out the photos taken of me at the Induction Center -- jerking off. When you have perfect beauty and brains, what more do you need?"

"A key," replied Whiskers. After a snap, I was ordered to face forward. Another snap followed. Whiskers paused.

Standing by with disinterest, Red and Missy were chatting. Red complained that because she had reported in late, Dr Velour put her on restriction and "indefinite bed check," Red exclaimed, "Indefinitely stuck inside this chamber of horrors."

Pausing to snort, she protested, "I was a few minutes -- once and with a good excuse -- it was an emergency with one of my kids. My house is only a couple of blocks away."

"That really hits your pocketbook," Missy, the brunette, stuffing her booty, my underwear and anklets in my boots, "You lose your quarters allowance."

Hmm, that would be quite a loss. The rent the government paid me for housing Meyers and me was generous enough. Losing it would be devastating.

Handing Red the camera, Whiskers donned surgical gloves. Upon his approach to me, Whiskers grabbed my jaw. I squealed "Ouch," when Whiskers twisted my face first hard aright and then hard to the left to inspect my ears, flicking my earlobes to look behind them.

"One good thing about girls from the Induction Center," Whiskers commented, "is that their hair is short both on top and below." Laughing at his own joke, Whiskers caught my cheeks between his thumb and index finger. With my mouth forced open, Whiskers looked inside and ordered me to wag my tongue. "Something the girls who work with me are good at," Whiskers remarked with a wry half -- smile.

Idly onlooking, Red and the Brunette continued blathering. "Bed check!" Red declared, 'I haven't had a bedtime since I was 12 years old. I'm a grown woman with a family of her own!"

As the background blather continued, I was ordered arms out. Whisker's hands swept through my underarms down my sides under my boobs up my cleavage.

After pinching my nips, Whiskers tickled my ribs, directing me to present my hands. Holding my hands out for inspection., I mockingly expressed regrets, "Between teaching PT in a muddy lot and driving a truck I haven't the time to keep my regular appointment at the beauty parlor for a manicure."

Completing a desultory inspection of my fingers palms up and down, between the digits and under the nails, Whiskers ordered me to lift my breasts. Holding my breasts up so that Whiskers could lick his index finger and run it across my under -- boobs. "Nothing there," I assured Whiskers, "but good upper body strength."

With the command "Hands on your head legs apart," Whiskers observed, "I don't get to examine such nicely shaven legs, all the time. Stretch them further, as far apart as they'll go."

"Though our finances were stretched and we were struggling, I -- we my husband and I were lucky," Red recalled wistfully, "He was off on disability with a part -- time job when the call -- up notices started. He was in an employed status. Only I was inducted. But loss of quarters allowance stretches us thin."

His hands sweeping from my butt cheeks down my legs to my feet, Whiskers observed, "Smooth, like your partner."

"Smooth," declared the Brunette as he commiserated with Red, "That describes Dr Edna Velour. She watches for property in financial distress. Be sure not to be open about your problems with your partner making your mortgage payments."

"Partner?" I questioned, looking down at my feet where Whisker's gloved hands started feeling me up slowly through the inside of my legs into my inner thighs.

"That female warrior, a marine, who we in -- processed oh an hour or so ago," Whiskers noted as his fingers across my perineum into my vagina. "Relax," Whiskers ordered, "Processing you will go much easier if you simply ease up."

"Relax? Ease up? Loosen up? A strange man, swooping down, clawing me with nimble fingers feeling me up, wants to penetrate me, give me a finger-fucking," I reminded him of the unwelcome, intrusive nature of the contact. "Should I pretend this is a friendly touch?"

"Dr Velour can be an unwelcome friend if she knows you have money problems. She has a nose for it. She scarfs up properties with distressed mortgages" the Brunette counselled caution. "You have to wear a face around here. If Velour feels your pain, she'll swoop like a hungry vulture. Keep your problems to yourself. Hide your problems behind a smile."

"Are you going to continue to hide that key?" Whiskers asked.

When I demanded, "Key to what?" Whisker pointing me to the palm prints painted on the wall commanded me to face the wall and lean into it. Assuming the position, I turned my head to look at him when I inquired, "Haven't you had enough fun already?"

His hands massaging my neck reaching into my underarms, and teasing my boobs, Whiskers in a deceptively soft voice vowed that the fun was just beginning to come.

"For feeling me up, my marine will only break you in two," I taunted Whiskers, "If you cum and can't make me cum by feeling me up, my marine will take your balls. He'll think you don't need them. That's the difficulty you face: losing the twin engines that make your derrick rise."

"Dr Velour is a castrator bitch with a feel for a difficulties," The Brunette cautioned Red.

Whiskers hands reached the base of my spine. Hands swept the contours of my butt, pulling my butt cheeks apart. I could feel his warm breath on my crack as he pulled apart my cheeks to inspect my crack. "Pretty clean," Whiskers complimented me.

Whiskers playfully whacked my butt when I retorted, "I try to wipe thoroughly."

"Dr Velour has her ways of pulling you apart with fines for petty ante uniform violations, like schmutz on your white uniform, after wrestling a recalcitrant reject." Brunette coiffed Missy continued, "The list of ways Velour can seize the opportunity to wipe you clean," brunette Missy giggled, "and turn difficulties into impossibility is endless."

"Key?" Whiskers asked as he told me to steady myself against the wall and wiggle my toes while he lifted my foot. He tickled the sole of my foot when I told him that there was no key down there.

"The Key," Missy, the brunette, advised Red, "is to recognize that, while Dr Velour has a lot on her mind dealing with the fertility project, Dr Velour's mind moves in many different directions at once. She can cover a lot of territory in a flash."

"Haven't you covered that territory back there before?" I challenged Whiskers when his gloved, nimble fingers once again crept up the inside of my legs into my inner thighs.

"No key?" Whiskers mocked me, "I must cast my net further," His fingers tantalized my perineum. I gasped when he thrust his fingers into my vagina.

"Just what the Doctor ordered," Whiskers murmured, "Service with a smile."

When I reiterated my protest that I had no key, his strong arms grasped my shoulders and bent me over at the waist. I gagged. I was about to be raped. The silliest things come to mind. Would I want Sergeant Meyers to assist Jerry castrate Whiskers?

I cried when Whiskers kicked my ankles to force my feet further apart. My body stiffened; my muscles tightened, preparing to resist the unwelcomed invasion. I felt Whisker's hairy lower abdomen cuddle up to my smooth butt. Whisker's projectile hardened as he brushed it along the ridge of skin between my crack and my vagina on its way to pop up inside me. "I never let any man enter me other than my husband!" I screamed.

"We wouldn't expect him," Whiskers cooed, "to just pop up. You wouldn't have to wait around for him to pop in."

"You have idea how Dr Velour could make a bad situation worse. So, keep your private affairs to yourself," brunette Missy warned Red, "You never know when Dr Velour might just pop up. Wait it out. She'll lift your restriction will be up in 30 days, a month. Then ..."

I closed my eyes to await Whisker's poke. At that I heard a deep "Ah -- hem." Whiskers broke off contact, but his cum sprayed the back of my legs.

I turned to see Whiskers behind me. His naked hairy body was still convulsing spreading ejaculate over the concrete. Blond, shapely Dr Velour in her white lab coat festooned with colonel's leafs stood arms crossed over her breasts, upbraiding Missy and Red, "You're assigned to chaperone. You're supposed to be in charge. This conduct is unforgivable. 30 days additional restriction of liberty with denial of connubial privileges, both of you."

Red grabbing Missy's arm to forestall a protest, whispered, "It'll only make it worse."

Turning to Mr Whiskers, Dr Velour reminded him, "you're a declared trans -- man, but," A disgusted look appeared on her face as she surveyed the floor where I stood in a small puddle of man -- juice. "Whiskers, you're relieved of duties as my aide. I'm putting you on hospital status pending physical and medical evaluation of your sexual orientation. We have ample evidence of `toxic masculinity' that needs to be addressed. Satisfied?"

"When the accoutrements of toxicity are excised," I replied.

Velour chuckled, "You remember your medical terminology from the Fertility Center, I used to operate. Good!" Thinking aloud, Dr Velour rued, "Having released that fellow you people at the Induction Center rejected," she took a breath, "Now, I have a slot to fill."

"Having completed the inspection process," I daringly asked Dr Velour, "Could I get my clothes and my Sergeant back so that we can return to station?"

"Hmm, you don't have the key to the truck," Dr Velour thought aloud, "How will you get back? I was shorted one female on this delivery and I need to replace an assistant. I'll request you and your Sergeant be transferred to this facility. I need not torture you further. I'll simply order a new key for that vehicle--Hmmm," Missy and Red snickered when Velour added, "I'll have to dock your pay for the cost of the key."

I forced a smile. The transfers Dr Velour contemplated would wipe me out. I'd lose the allowance I received for rent for both me and Meyers. My house would be lost. If approved, the transfer would void my release to return to school and extend my term of service to 10 years -- in this whore house. I needed to resort to all my guile to break out.

Touching me gently on the shoulder, Velour suggested, "You probably need a shower, Warbler."

Noticing me grimace when I glanced toward the uncurtained shower in front of me, Dr Velour in a calm tone ordered Red, "get Warbler a uniform and escort her to her new quarters in my rooms. She can shower privately there."

Dr Velour smiled approvingly when I rejected Missy's offer to return my boots. "Missy, watching you clutch my new boots, I see they mean much more to you than to me. Why not keep them?"

Led away naked for a shower in my new quarters, I would be christened before rebirth in the belly of the beast.

I devised my own ditty to buoy my spirits, "Defiance // with a clever twist // subtle in the will to resist// Endurance // to shape the escape // from a gilded cage."

Shower first then I'll explore how to break the tether from this house of whores.

***