Med School Acceptance Ch. 01

-----

Ali had started to release her from the bed. He had helped her at first, walking her around the room with a hand supporting her under her elbow. Gradually, her strength and flexibility had come back and she was allowed to walk around the room on her own, even when no one was there with her. She enjoyed admiring herself in the mirror as she walked. Her time at home (it was the only home she really remembered now) had made her so much more aware of herself as a sexual being. She loved her shape, she loved the glow of her skin, she loved her breasts, crowned with those stiff nipples, she loved her hips and ass, she loved the little patch of fur over her mound. She loved the gaze she knew was on the other side of that mirror.

She had even grown used to relieving herself in the bucket under that gaze, to the point of longing for it. Squatting above it, opening her thighs as the piss flowed from between her cunt lips. It was almost erotic to know that someone on the other side was watching her do it. When she looked at herself in that mirror, she couldn't help feeling someone else's eyes, and that fact always filled her with pleasure.

Ali entered as she stood in front of the glass looking herself over. She couldn't quite catch it out of the corner of her eyes, but she thought that he smiled at her. When she turned to see him, he had the same serious, professional expression that he nearly always wore. She turned to face him, her body expressing the obedience she felt.

"It's tonight," he said.

He pulled a soft black silk cloth from his pocket and set it on the chair beside her bed.

"You are to wear that, as a blindfold."

He raised his eyes to her and looked her over from head to foot and back again. She thought she saw something like pride in his eyes. She felt her skin flush hot and her desire immediately burned in her belly, but she stood still.

"Do you understand?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," she answered. Somehow she knew that was the right way to answer. He smiled and left the room.

-----

It was her first time leaving the room in as long as she could remember, but she didn't experience any fear. Ali held her by the hand and guided her. She had doubled over the silk blindfold so that she couldn't make out anything but a glow of light at its edges. She walked along long corridors of cold, smooth floors for what seemed like an eternity until Ali stopped her with a touch and told her to wait for a second.

She heard a door open beside her and the buzz of whispered voices before Ali returned and led her into the room with a hand on the small of her back. She smiled as her feet sunk into the thick carpeting. She even dug her toes into it a little, every sensation feeling like a thrill after her long deprivation. She followed Ali's lead until he leaned close to her ear and told her to stand still. She nodded, and he left her for a moment.

She was aware of bodies and voices all around her, though they weren't close enough to touch her or loud enough to make out clearly. She knew intuitively that this group of people was looking at her and discussing her. She made no attempt to hide the arousal she felt at being the object of their gazes; she could feel her pussy lips swell at the thought and a trickle of her juices flowed down the inside of her thigh.

The first voice she heard distinctly was Ali's, and he spoke a loud question:

"What are you?"

She surprised herself by answering immediately:

"I am a possession, I am a slave, I am a fucktoy."

Even more surprising was that hers was not the only voice. She had spoken as if in a chorus of singers. There were at least a half-dozen others around the room who had said the same words, in the same rhythm.

There was a murmur of approval from around the sides of the room, and this only intensified the pleasure and desire that throbbed deep within her. She couldn't quite follow all of what happened next. The whispers seemed to grow louder and more busy every few minutes as bodies moved around the room.

She stood absolutely still until she felt Ali at her side, leading her to what she knew was the center of the room. He pressed his feet between hers, widening her stance somewhat and he parted her thighs with his knee. He lifted her hands and closed clasped them together behind her head, over her dark locks. She stood like that on display, her body experiencing a thrill from the touches that manipulate her position.

As she stood, exposed, she heard that same growth in the volume of the whispers, and she could feel the heat of bodies walking around her, looking at her, evaluating her. Ali helped her into a few more positions, bending her forward at the waist to display her ass and the cleft of her cunt, lowering her down onto her knees so she could sit back on her ankles, bringing her forward onto her hands and knees like a horny bitch. At each shift, there was a fresh round of whispers and movements around her. She could feel her body pulsing in excitement, the ache building deep inside her fucktunnel as who knows how many eyes looked her over.

The heat in the room around her seemed to grow until she heard Ali's voice whispering clearly through the many others near her.

"Sold, for two million."

He helped her to her feet, and she felt a moment of panic when she realized he wouldn't be there anymore. He took her hand and placed it in another man's, who led her from the crowded room into an antechamber. There, she could feel another set of eyes on her, and she heard a new voice, this one deep and gentle all at once.

"I am your owner."

Again, the response came as if automatically.

"I am your possession, I am your slave, I am your fucktoy."

She could almost hear him smiling. "Good. You will do well. John, take care of the arrangements."

She heard the owner of the deep voice leave and the other man, whom she now recognized as an attendant, led her by the hand to yet another room. There he removed her blindfold and helped her into clothes for the first time in months. The touch of John's hand didn't burn her the way Ali's did. She somehow knew that he was a fellow servant, someone with a purpose, not an object of desire. She looked over the clothes folded on the table in front of her and began to dress. She put on the black, lace bra, then pulled the matching garter belt over her hips. She slid her feet into the two white stockings, clipping the garters to their tops to hold them up. She stood for a moment like that, her body partly clothed but her pussy still exposed to the air, and enjoyed the sensation.

John helped her into a white dress shirt and buttoned it for her, then she pulled the flared black pleated mini-skirt over her ass and zipped it. The final touch were the shoes -- black heels high enough that when she stood in them, they almost forced her ass out from under the skirt. John took her by the hand and led her out the door down a seemingly endless corridor. He opened the door at the end of the hallway and brought her out into the bright sunlight. She couldn't help but raise her hand to shield her eyes from the light, and she quickly took the few steps to the black sedan. John opened the rear door for her and she sat in the backseat as he closed the door behind her, then circled the car to slide into the driver's seat. The car pulled away smoothly and she looked forward this time, oblivious to the scenes passing beside her, her imagination overflowing with one set of impressions and the sound of just one voice.

-----

The car stopped on the tarmac of a private airstrip, and John helped her up the stairs of an executive jet. He led her to a seat beside the window, and she sat, satisfied and waiting. She looked around the well-appointed cabin, the handful of seats covered in fine, supple leather. She ran her hand over her own seat and enjoyed the buttery smoothness of the material. A single flight attendant in uniform moved around the cabin busily, preparing the plane for takeoff, and she stopped to ask her if she wanted anything to drink. She shook her head no; her attention had already been drawn to a seat nearly at the front of the plane, perhaps 4 meters away. The man sitting there faced away from her and was reading from business papers spread on the table in front of him. She couldn't see much of him except for the breadth of his shoulders in his finely-cut suit and the shaved head that bent over the documents. She felt an immediate surge of arousal, almost incomprehensible to her, and she knew what she was thirsty for.

Her hips started to move involuntarily in her seat and she could feel her bare ass and flushed pussy grinding against the smooth leather. She felt certain that if she stood up, there would be a wet trail on the seat betraying her feeling of total surrender and excitement. She knew she had to have that man. She knew that she had to please him. She knew that nothing else could satisfy the throbbing in her desperate cunt.

Her eyes glazed over as she masturbated herself against the seat, her sensitive flesh slippery and sliding back and forth as she fixes the back of his head with an unrelenting gaze. Her breath came out in gasps and whimpers. She hardly noticed when the jet began to roll down the taxiway, and she only realized that jet was flying down the runway because of the pleasant rumble of vibrations that spread through her seat. Those drove her nearer and nearer her release until she let out a deep moan and let go. Her orgasm came just as the jet left the ground, her body filled with a sense of lightness and ecstasy.

-----

She must have lost consciousness for a moment, because when she awoke, the jet was flying level and the flight attendant was handing her a glass of water. She nodded thankfully and took the glass, drinking deeply from it. She kept looking up at where he sat, wishing that she knew how to approach him. She turned her head to look over the rest of the cabin, and she saw that John was the only other passenger, seated in the very last seat, near the airplane door. When she caught John's eyes, he rose immediately, almost as if it had been a pre-arranged signal. He walked up to her and took her hand, raising her from her seat silently, and he guided her up the aisle until she was facing the man directly.

His eyes stayed on his documents for the moment, and he spoke to her without raising his head.

"You will never conceal your body in my presence when we are in private."

She was confused for a moment, the meaning of his words sinking in. Then she nodded and quickly unbuttoned her shirt, reached behind her back to unclasp the bra and pulled both off, casting them aside. She unzipped the skirt and let it fall to the floor of the cabin.

At that point, he pulled his eyes away from the papers he was examining and ran his them up her body, his attention particularly focused on the swollen lips of her cunt, still betraying the evidence of her recent orgasm.

"Did you cum without asking me, possession?"

She didn't know what his tone of voice meant, but she couldn't help but answer honestly.

"Yes, sir."

"You will not do that again or you will be cast aside."

A greater fear than she had ever known filled her. She knew that she couldn't be cast aside. She had to do anything to avoid that. There was only one thing she wanted to be. She wanted to be his.

"Yes, sir," she answered with a quiver in her voice.

"Now, go and clean up the mess you made. Lick your seat clean. My other servants are not tasked with wiping up your cunt juices."

She nodded and took a step back toward her seat, but he reached up to grab a handful of her hair, bringing her down to her hands and knees, scuffing the skin of her knees through her stockings.

"Crawl," he added.

She did as he asked, crawling back down the aisle the few meters to her seat. She kneeled in front of her seat and began running her tongue along the cool leather, licking up the obvious wet spots at first, then slipping the tip of her tongue into all the seams, the fine stitching tickling her as she obeyed. The feeling of degradation simply set a new fire inside of her cunt, though, and she was soon rocking her hips against air as she followed her owner's command.

By the time she was finished, she had been reduced to a panting bitch in heat once more, and she could hardly keep her balance as she crawled back to the side of his seat and looked up into his face pleadingly. He avoided her gaze at first, his attention on his work, then he turned to face her.

"What is it, whore?"

She let out a soft whimper. "Please, sir, I want to cum again."

The slightest of smiles curled the corners of his mouth, and he took her hand, pulling her to her feet and bending her over the edge of the table in front of him, her ass pointed out into the aisle as her heavy breasts push down into the wood. He ran his hand over the curve, feeling the swell of her ass cheek in his palm, his first touch of her flesh. She shuddered in response, her arousal driven instantly higher. The gentle touch lasted only a second before he raised his hand and delivered a sharp, harsh spanking. Her ass rippled in response and was still moving when the second spank landed. He kept beating her naked ass with his open hand, gasps and moans escaping her lips.

"If you can cum like this, then go ahead, fucktoy." She nods and bites her bottom lip hard, the tension in her body rising as she gives in to the blended pain and pleasure, the heat spreading over her ass as it turns a darker and darker shade of pink. Her hips press into the corner of the table, applying a little more pressure to her mound, sending a thrill through her hard clit. Her eyes begin to roll back into her head, and she gasps out:

"Pleeease ... sir ... may-y ... I?"

He answers with a simple yes, and her body obeys him immediately, her deep groans filling the cabin as she gives in to yet another orgasm. Her breaths come out in forceful oomphs as she cums violently under his spanks. She slowly comes down from the high, and her body quivers against the table top. He removes his hand from her ass, picks up a document and absorbs himself in his business.

"Now back to your seat, slave."

She nods through her post-orgasmic fog and she walks unsteadily back to her seat, her balance uncertain in the black heels. She relaxes into the seat and drifts off into sleep, a sense of total satisfaction filling her.

-----

She was only vaguely aware of the plane's arrival at its destination and of her subsequent car ride to a country estate. She hadn't been dressed again. She took the ride in her stockings and garter belt, nothing more. There could be no doubt in any of the servants' minds. about the way in which she served the household. She was awake enough by the time of her arrival to make a note of the broad, symmetrical architecture of the home and of the vast manicured grounds that surrounded it. She was in awe of the place and remained so when she was led to her room, a wide expanse of beautiful colors, fabrics, and furniture. She sat on the edge of the bed and was filled with a sense of contentment at being her owner's fuckdoll. It seemed that nothing could be better.

She expected to see him frequently, but she was disappointed when he did not appear at dinner. She went to bed aching for him in more ways than one. Her torment would continue into the next day and the next. She wasn't even sure that he was at home with her. The servants took meticulously good care of her but they didn't answer her questions about him. She dressed in some of the fine clothes hanging in her bedroom's wardrobe and tried to distract herself with long walks through the home and grounds, but though they were beautiful, every new discovery seemed a little empty without him there to share it with her.

She had almost given up hope of seeing him when he arrived at the end of the week. She was called to dinner by John, as usual, and when she walked into the dining room, she was overwhelmed to see him sitting at the head of the table. He raised his eyes to meet hers and looked her up and down as he already had several times. He raised his brow slightly.

"What did I tell you about being with me in private?"

She was overcome by a sense of pleasure at the sound of his voice and of embarrassment at having forgotten herself for a moment. She nodded and quickly lifted her dress over her head, revealing the fact that she hadn't been wearing any underwear, and she removed her shoes before crossing the room and kneeling at his side.

"That's better. Now sit beside me and eat your dinner."

She complied immediately, pulling a chair close to the table and eating quietly next to him, her eyes fixed on him the whole time, looking for any hint of his wishes that she might satisfy. They ate their meal in silence, his eyes occasionally looking across at her and admiring her naked tits. When he looked, her nipples would inevitably stiffen and her eyes would glaze over in lust, but he didn't reach out to satisfy her.

When the main course was over and the servants cleared the plates, he took her hand and helped her up onto the table, dangling her legs over the edge on each side of his body. He pressed her down flat onto the table and nudged her thighs open with his hand. She lay there, her plump cunt swollen and drooling down onto the table when one of the servants brought the dessert of a chocolate fudge cake served with ice cream, and placed the bowl in front of the master between her legs. He ate patiently and quietly as his eyes devoured her throbbing, needy fuckflesh. He smiled and playfully placed a spoonful of the vanilla ice cream directly on top of her clit and watched her shiver and squirm as it melted slowly, dripping down the cleft between her lips and mixing with her juices.

When he had finished, he finally spoke again.

"John will take you down to the dungeon and prepare you. And I will take you."

They were the most beautiful words she'd ever heard.

-----

John followed his master's instructions precisely, leading her downstairs into a part of the house that she had never seen. It really was fitted like a dungeon -- windowless walls composed of large, brutish stones and filled with what looked like instruments either of torture or of pleasure. John took her to one of these and eased her onto her back on a padded bench, guiding her neck into one side of a metal shackle, then placing both her wrists in matching metal semi-circles. He lowered the top half of the yoke across her hands and throat, then locked it in place. The shackles held her flat on her back, her wrists and neck in line with one another.

John then moved to her ankles and attached a pair of padded leather cuffs to them. He pulled two braided ropes through a set of pulleys on each side of her prone body, and he attached one to a ring on each cuff. He tested the ropes gently, noting that her legs could be stretched open obscenely or left free as desired, then tied them fast in the most exposed position. Once finished with his preparations, John left in silence, and she was left lying on her back, completely helpless and vulnerable to anything her owner should care to do to her.

She waited for what felt like forever before hearing his settled step coming down the stairs. He approached her calmly and stood quietly above her for several minutes, simply looking her over, admiring her full tits, her flushed skin, the swell of her hips, the puffy wetness of her cunt, a bit of sticky ice cream drying between her lips, her puckered asshole.

He stood near her and ran his hand over her quivering, excited flesh, avoiding all her most sensitive parts, caressing teasingly along her curves.

"Have you missed me, fuckpet?" he asks.

She let out an animal groan in response, her body craving to be used and abused the way it deserves to be.