The Luckiest Girl in the World

As my spasms fade down a bit and the fingers retreat, I feel myself being covered. I turn onto my side, and my Tech once again holds the nipple to my parched lips. As I suck down the sweet protein drink, I can taste another subtle hint of the dreaming-drug. I could be wrong, but probably not. I nurse every drop of liquid out of the tube. If it is the dreaming-drug, I want all I can get.

I continue to rest, wondering how much longer this Display will last. I've lost all track of time. I try to relax while I can.

The light spasms of arousal are still working within me. That won't stop until all this is over. They just become fainter or stronger, depending on what's being done to me. It's pleasant just to rest here, feeling my insides pulling tight then loosening rhythmically without my even concentrating on it.

The best way I can describe the sensation is that it seems like I'm orgasming constantly, going up to a peak when something is being done, then back down to the baseline when it stops, over and over again. But even the baseline is lovely to experience. Right now, it feels even lovelier than before. Yes, there must have been a bit of the dreaming-drug in my drink, as I thought. Otherwise, I wouldn't feel this so intensely and intrusively, when the only stimulation I'm receiving is from the device lying quietly in its place. I feel the heaviness of the glass, the fullness it creates deep in my belly. I picture it as a tiny purring kitten, curled cozily within me. I can almost feel the vibration of the kitten's purr. Like the little cat, I am also contented and at peace. I could lie here like this forever, and count myself as blessed.

A laugh bubbles up into my throat. I'm imagining a pussy inside my own pussy! It seems hilarious, but I control myself. Not even my Tech could possibly understand my amusement, as she hasn't been allowed any of the dreaming-drug herself.

My coverlet is removed. I am back in circulation, floating on an ocean of sensation. Sometimes, several things are being done to me at once. Fingers run through my long black hair, again and again, or tug at a handful, pulling my head to one side or the other. At the same time, the tattoo across my lower belly is being covered with light, delicate kisses. Now and then, the kisses move down lower, to be placed lovingly on my eager clit.

At such times, I feel as if I am the most beautiful and desirable woman in the Facility. But that's an illusion. Am I really that gorgeous? No, not by a long shot. But reality doesn't count for very much now, when the slightest touch can send me flying up to my very own private heaven.

Once again, the spotlight turns on me, showing brightly through my eyelids. This must be the beginning of my second Display.

I assume the Ready position, waiting for my Tech to work on me again.

"Present," comes her order.

I draw up my legs, presenting my sex to any observers who are interested.

Her hand begins massaging my clit, intensifying my automatic spasms. I suck a sharp breathe through my teeth. Very soon, her other hand takes hold of the handle of the device, moving it around inside me in small circles. I struggle against the impulse to straighten my legs and pull them together, in order to make the spasms tighter. It would feel wonderful, but would obstruct the view of my crotch.

The device is drawn out a short way, then swiveled widely around inside me several times. I know what will come next and am ready for it, tilting my pelvis upward, almost raising my ass off the gurney, inviting the thick glass to invade my anterior chamber, between the base of my cervix and the front wall of my vagina, where the most sensitive areas are located. Those areas have been enhanced by a series of injections so that they react to even the slightest of movements. But this will be no light touch.

Anticipating the insertion, I concentrate on relaxing my muscles, damping down the spasms, visualizing myself being open and slack. My Tech helps, removing her hand from my clit, letting me breathe for a moment before the onslaught. Then a hard push, as the thick head of the device opens that precious chamber, stretching it wide, rubbing over those sensitive places.

I try to stay open, resisting for as long as I can the developing spasms that will make this determined invader even harder to accept. It retreats just a little, then plunges forward all the way to the base of my cervix, at the same time that the vibrator is crushed down hard onto my clit.

Chaos racks my convulsing body, as pressure and pain and pleasure all come together, each one vying to overcome the others. I know I'm screaming and crying and shaking violently, because I can hear it and feel it. But mostly I feel the spiraling ecstasy that takes me out of this world, as the device moves back and forth in small rapid jerks. The handle is pressed upward, tight against my urethra, rubbing insistently over the opening, adding even more sensation to what I already have.

Oh god, let me die now, like this, and I will not complain!

I return to the real world as I feel the device being slowly drawn out, until the oblong knob is clear of my body. The vibrator continues to work at my clit, and I know that my spasming is clearly visible, as my entrance contracts and loosens. When the vibrator is taken away, the spasms slowly fall back down to baseline and I begin to relax, fully expecting to feel the fleece cover once again touching my now superbly sensitive body.

Instead, the distinct feeling of a man's cum falls across my chest, to be quickly lapped up by an eager tongue, which continues to lick my breasts, dancing around my tight nipples, then finally the mouth takes hold of one nipple, sucking hard. Then another mouth closes over the other one. I imagine I'm suckling twins, and they're very hungry. It would be nice to do that some day, but that can never be.

I smile to myself as others join in, sucking on my toes, my fingers, my earlobes. A demanding mouth against my lips. I open obligingly so that even my tongue can be drawn into a mouth. A questing finger fills the emptiness where the glass had been. It pushes in deep. I can feel it against my cervix, gliding in small circles around the opening, too light to be painful.

It would seem that quite a few of the Clients are clearly very pleased with what's just been done to me, since they've joined in the action. From the sounds I hear around me, there's also a good number of satisfied customers, being driven successfully to their own peaks of pleasure not far from my gurney.

That will surely give me a high rating for my performance. Ratings are very important to everyone, but especially so to me, since the really good slots that are available once a Girl or Boy gets too old to be considered attractive are based mostly on your ratings. I know I don't have too many more years to go, and I really want to be a Tech, and maybe even a Trainer someday. I'm doing well so far, but I've got to keep the numbers up in order to get that sort of high-Status position.

I'm exhausted and want nothing more than something to drink and a chance to recuperate, but I drive myself harder, encouraging my Clients to keep on with what they're doing. The spasms wash over me like a wave washes over a piece of driftwood lying on a beach. I accept it all, but I am passive now, taking in what I can. The others catch on, gradually detaching from my spent body, but leaving me with reluctance, expressed by gentle caresses, tender kisses, a hand pushing back a stray lock of sweat-drenched hair from my forehead.

At last, I am covered, given water, then urged to curl up on my side and rest. The activity continues to swirl around me, but I'm officially out of service now. Perhaps I was given a bit too much of the dreaming-drug, as I slip into a light doze while the other Erotic Displays are performed.

I awake again at a sudden increase in the overall noise level, as if something disastrous might be happening. I sit up, alarmed.

My Tech's arms are around me instantly, her voice reassuring and calm.

"It's all right. That's just Freak, doing es famous double orgasm routine," she tells me. "Seems like the Clients can never get enough of em. Ee's the closing Display. It's almost over."

Once that burst of excitement and activity ends, the Display is clearly winding down. The music slows, then tapers off and stops. The lights come on.

I lie on my gurney, everything but my head safely tucked under the fleece cover. I hear the soft bleep of the recorders attached to the foot of each gurney, as the departing Clients stop by and rate the individual performances.

When everyone has left, our Techs wheel us all out to the Recovery Room, where our needs will be met and we'll be allowed to sleep while the dreaming-drug wears off.

My night's work is over, and I relax into a well-earned rest. When I awake, I'll have several Free Days to do whatever I wish.

I'm surely the luckiest girl in this wretched world.

Wouldn't you agree?