Clarissa Ch. 03

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Appointments.
1.8k words
4.52
29.2k
9

Part 3 of the 3 part series

Updated 10/23/2022
Created 09/04/2009
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"Look at me," Roger softly ordered as Clarissa squirmed on the exam table. She was naked, except for the cum that had dried on her breasts during the car ride to the doctor's office. Her legs spread in stirrups as Dr. Franklin gently examined her.

"Look at me, Clarissa," Roger said once more, and this time her eyes found his.

Still she shook nervously, her eyes full of fear.

"That's better," Roger smiled down at her. "Dr. Franklin's almost done."

Clarissa could only breathe as she looked into Roger's eyes. She hated how difficult a simple exam had become for her, and it embarrassed her. Just an hour ago she had been sucking the cock of the man she hoped would be her master. Now he had to comfort her as a doctor made sure she was still in good enough condition to serve.

"All done!" Dr. Franklin exclaimed as he slid the speculum out of Clarissa. His nurse began to undo the restraints that had kept her in place. Clarissa could still hear her heart pounding as Roger kissed her forehead.

"It's all over, Clarissa." Roger helped the slave sit up as the nurse brought them her blue dress.

"Roger," Dr. Franklin hesitantly interrupted the moment. "Perhaps Nurse Gia can help Clarissa dress while you and I talk in my office?"

Roger looked at Clarissa.

"She'll be in good hands, Sir," Nurse Gia smiled, keeping a professional demeanor despite the revealing uniform and platform heels she wore.

"Alright," Roger consented, kissing Clarissa's forehead once more before following the doctor down the hall.

Dr. Franklin offered Roger a seat as he sat himself down behind his cluttered desk, making the final notes and adding the final signatures to Clarissa's papers. Roger sat quietly, waiting.

The doctor sighed before he spoke.

"She's not the worse I've ever seen, but she's pretty bad."

Roger nodded.

"Still," Dr. Franklin continued, "she'll be fine. Keep taking it easy with her. Don't rush her."

"I know," Roger agreed.

"Roger, that girl is certain she wants to stay a slave?"


"She tells me she's certain she could never survive without a dominant to take care of her," Roger explained. "And just an hour or so ago, she was eagerly sucking my cock after submitting to my office slave."

Dr. Franklin chuckled as someone knocked on the office door. "Come in!"

Nurse Gia opened the door, escorting Clarissa back to Roger. The doctor watched as the dominant stood up and wrapped an arm around the slave girl.

"Is there anything else, Bill?" Roger asked. "We need to get to our meeting at the Ministry."

"No," the doctor shook his head. "That's all. I'll have Gia fax over all her information right away for you."

"Thank you," Roger rubbed Clarissa's shoulder as he guided her out of the office.

Once in the car, Clarissa spoke.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

"Sorry?"

"For panicking."

"Clarissa," Roger sighed softly, "never apologize for how something makes you feel."

He glanced over at her as he waited for traffic to clear.

"That's an order," he added.

"Yes, Sir," Clarissa nodded, showing her understanding as Roger began to drive toward the Ministry.

"When we get to the Ministry, you're going to have to say what happened to you."

Clarissa didn't speak, not sure if she was supposed to agree or question what would happen once she told her story.

"Clarissa," Roger said her name yet again. Clarissa couldn't tell if he liked saying it or not, but she thought she rather liked hearing him say it nonetheless.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Do you understand what's going to happen at the Ministry?"

The question worried Clarissa.

"I have to tell them what happened to me, and there's paperwork," the slave girl looked up at Roger nervously. "Is there anything else, Sir?"

"That's about it. The woman I spoke to on the phone said that you might qualify for an rehabilitation program, if you wanted."

Clarissa was silent.

"They would help you overcome your submissive tendencies enough to pass the exam so you could be free."

"Yes, Sir."

Roger looked at Clarissa as she gazed out the window.

"You really don't want to be free, do you, darling?"

Clarissa looked back at Roger, tears stinging her eyes.

"No, Sir," she whispered softly.

"Alright," Roger took her hand. "I won't press it anymore. I just want you to know that if you ever decide that you want your freedom, I will do everything I can to give it to you."

"Thank you, Sir."

Roger kept his hand clasped with Clarissa's until they parked at the Ministry building. Without speaking a word to each other, they made their way into the building where an enslaved woman greeted them and offered an enslaved man to escort them to their appointment. The man was younger than Roger, and was dressed in a leather harness, g-string and boots which echoed down the hallway as he lead them to a small office.

"Mistress Patty, this is Master Roger Davis and the slave Clarissa for your two o'clock," the leather clad slave bowed as he introduced them.

"Thank you, Lyle," Mistress Patty smiled at her guests. "Please, both of you, sit down. May I have Lyle bring you anything?"

"Some water, perhaps," Roger suggested, noticing how pale Clarissa had become since the car ride.

Lyle bowed again and left, closing the door.

Patty was an older woman, though still attractive, who seemed to wear a smile as easily as a necklace or watch.

"Clarissa," she focused her gaze on the weak girl sitting beside Roger. "Do you understand why Master Roger brought you in today?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Clarissa nodded, as Roger gently took her hand once more. "I have to tell you what happened to me, and then he, Master Roger, has to do some paperwork."

"Yes," Patty nodded, "that's about it. Now, according to the file we found for you, you came into enslavement voluntarily about two years ago. Is that correct, Clarissa?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And you were purchased by Master Paul Smith?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"That's all the Ministry knows right now, Clarissa. Was Master Paul the one who gave you those bruises?"

"No, Ma'am." Clarissa looked at Roger, who nodded, encouraging her to speak. "Master Paul sold me a month after he bought me. Master....Harry..... I can't remember his last name, Ma'am."

"It's alright," Patty's smile had faded, though still there as encouragement. "Just tell me whatever you can remember, however you can tell it."

"Master Harry was a friend of Master Paul's, and he owned me until..." Clarissa's voice trailed off as Lyle returned, bottles of water in hand. She waited until he had been dismissed and the door closed again to continue.

"Master Harry lost his job, and his wife sold me to Master.... to the Master who hurt me."

"Do you remember his name, Clarissa?" Patty asked gently, yet without hesitation.

She shook her head, squeezing Roger's hand.

"I don't know if he ever told me.... he made me wear a hood a lot, so I couldn't hear when he spoke to other people."

"Did he hurt you from the beginning?"

"He said that slaves like me weren't good for much else."

Roger leaned over and kissed Clarissa's cheek.

Patty paused, watching him, before asking another question.

"Clarissa, how did you end up at the dumpster?"

"He would rent me sometimes, and I remember going to the party. I was caged in the back of a van without windows, and hooded, so I couldn't see where I was. But the party was at a house with college students. And at first it was good, because they just wanted me to make out with girls who were there, or suck cocks. And then they started to fuck me, which my Master never did... And then all of a sudden it was only five guys left, and my Master was back. He started telling me how he was going to use me as a punching bag when we got home, to punish me for being such a dirty filthy slut. And one of the guys said he would help. And then..."

"Your Master taught them how to use a slave girl like a punching bag, didn't he, Clarissa?" Roger helped her finish.

"Yes, Sir," Clarissa whimpered.

"What happened next?" Patty looked from Roger to Clarissa.

"Clarissa," Roger rubbed her back, "do you remember what happened next?"

"I just wanted to go to sleep," Clarissa forced herself to continue. "But when they let me down, they were all hard."

"Your master, too?" Patty needed clarification for her report.

Clarissa nodded.

"I remember him getting me in position. And I remember him telling the boys things to do.. And then I was sucking someone's cock, and someone was fucking me, and then someone plugged my nose, and I couldn't breathe. I don't remember anything else. Until Maggie woke me up at the dumpster."

"Oh, darling," Roger breathed, letting Clarissa cry into his chest. He looked over at Patty who had lost her smile, but was not distracted from her job. She was jotting down notes, and looking up occasionally to see when she could ask her follow up questions.

"Clarissa," Patty gently coaxed the slave girl to look up from Roger's shirt. "Can you tell me what your Master looked like?"

"He was shorter than Master Roger, by a few inches, and blonde," Clarissa tried to stop crying. "And he was skinny. Really skinny."

"How old do you think he was?"

"He didn't look very old, but he looked older than me."

Patty wrote down some more.

"Can we take a break?" Roger asked.

"Oh, yes," Patty looked up from her work with an ounce of surprise. "I'll finish up this report and get our paperwork ready. Why don't you take Clarissa out into the hall to walk around a little?"

Roger nodded as he helped Clarissa rise and lead her into the hallway, his arm wrapped around her waist.

"How much did that bastard ever give you to eat?" He asked in a soft voice as soon as they were outside of Patty's office.

"More than he said I deserved, Sir."

"You know all that stuff he said to you is bullshit," Roger stopped walking and looked into Clarissa's eyes. There were still plenty of tears in them, he could tell.

"I know, Sir." Clarissa looked around the empty hallway nervously. "If he had let me leave, Sir, I would have. I'm not that much of a masochist, I promise."

"Patty's going to ask you about the rehabilitation center when we go back in. Let her go through her spiel, and then you can decline, okay?" Roger kissed her lips ever so gently and took her hand to start leading her back into the office.

"Yes, Sir."

"And then I'm going to sign some papers that will make me your official Master, and make you my official slave, and then I'm going to take you home, is that what you want?"

"Yes, Sir," Clarissa smiled a little, which made Roger smile a little more.

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8 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousabout 1 year ago

This story is outright great and hot.

I really like the idea of a modern word where slavery still exists and even has become bureaucratized.

Unfortunately this story seems to have been abandoned.

AnonymousAnonymousover 6 years ago
awesome story

hey there!!... hope this story will continue

AnonymousAnonymousover 6 years ago

An awesame story.Wish you had not given up on it.I would really like to know what happen next and how the story ends.

RedBarDragonRedBarDragonalmost 8 years ago

I would like to say that this story is my absolutely FAVOURITE BDSM story. I just love to read it from time to time. On the other hadn I remember waaay back when I have read this story for the first time and wanted to see other works from lisettepourtoi. I found "The Wedding Gift" and to be honest that was one of two BDSM stories that gave me nightmares for a while. So while Clarissa is an example of how a BDSM relationship SHOULD work (even if set in a fantasy setting), The Wedding Gift is a clear example of what you should never even ATTEMPT in real life.

fanfarefanfarealmost 11 years ago
too close to reality

I want to complement the author of the 'Clarissa' stories for achieving a level of realism that is lacking in most written pornography of the BDSM/Anal/Non-consent/Unprotected sexual activity genres.

It would be nice to be able to say, no one was harmed in the creation of these fantasies but guess what folks these stories influence people to do stupid things in real life. That's why we have an epidemic of drug-resistant hepatitis and other STI's running rampant on a global scale.

And as for video porn, please people, get a clue! They are professionals, doped out of their gourds. DO NOT DO THIS AT HOME! First clue is the inability for the narcotic abusing women to produce natural lubricants and spit.

About twenty years ago, when my wife and I were experimenting, we briefly explored our local BDSM groups. It did not take long for us to agree that this fantasy lifestyle was not to our personal tastes. Several of the people we met, generously educated us in understanding the different types of BDSM play and explained about the limits and rules.

At that time, the local BDSM community was recovering from a scandal that had brought bad publicity and Law Enforcement investigations. We were told that these intrusions had been triggered by an in-experienced, wanna-be dom bungling his attempt to master a young, in-experienced wanna-be submissive. Causing her severe injuries and trauma. Then the idiot booted her out, ordering her to return in a couple of weeks when she healed up.

In shock, she tried to pretend that she was okay and returned to her job. Her boss noticed her discomfort and saw the wrist markings left by stupid's use of handcuffs. There is a reason police still use metal handcuffs as the markings left are a quick way to tell that someone had been recently arrested.

The girl's boss turned out to be a politically connected militant feminist. She dragged the girl to the nearest Women's Clinic. Where the Doctor's quickly determined that the girl was suffering serious internal injuries. Then the bosslady went ballistic and with her political influence, she got the police involved and toot-sweet, stupid was on his way to jail.

Between vindictive Boss Lady and the outraged members of the local BDSM club, who did not appreciate the attentions of the authorities on their activities, the asshole was whipsawed. He had to pay a huge sum to the girl. He lost his professional accreditation. Did some jail time and all in all his life was rendered utterly miserable.

Come to think of it, he's probably one of the anonymousies commenting on this site. Spewing their misogynist hatreds against everyone to the left of the Taliban.

- fanfare -

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Clarissa Ch. 02 Previous Part
Clarissa Series Info

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