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Tracker
Jenkins led Ayden into an industrial looking anteroom. The air was chilled and it was obvious this
room had not been maintained in many years.
She could see evidence of lime green walls beneath the scars in the pale
blue paint. The paint had been left
chipped and peeling after years of neglect.
Tracker Jenkins gestured for Ayden to wait in the room before he
disappeared through a door to the right.
She was left standing alone, feeling like the peeling paint on the
walls. Her innermost-self exposed for
anyone to see. Without a clock Ayden spent
the time staring at the cracks in the wall, unsure how much time had
passed. Time ticked by painstakingly
slow, like the warm Friday afternoons of spring, while you wait for the bell to
ring, but Ayden was not heading to the local mall. She was in a new world where everything was
different, but there was something strangely comforting about the way people
treated her. With a touch of excitement
and apprehension she wondered what lay ahead for her. Ayden looked to the ceiling for cameras. She stared at her bare toes and made them
wiggle and dance on the cold cement floor.
She checked and rechecked the door from the room where she had just been,
hoping that she would never see Frank again.
The lack of chairs forced her to stand and she chose a position in the
middle of the room, but became increasing more anxious about her
vulnerability. She fidgeted endlessly; first
crossing her arms over her breasts, then moving her hands lower trying to
position her elbows so that her nipples were at least partially hidden. Turning her back to the doors she hoped for a
little modesty, but was left feeling like she should cover that view with both
hands. She realized how silly she must
appear looking for shelter in an empty room.
She stood up tall, arching her back straight, just as the door to her
right swung open. Startled, Ayden spun
around in one quick jump, to face Tracker Jenkins as he strode confidently back
into the room. Reflexively she crossed
her arms back over her breasts; discretely hiding each of her nipples behind
the cupped palm of her hands. Despite her reticence Ayden was relieved to see
him again.
Taking
up her leash, with a quick tug, Tracker Jenkins silently guided her into the
room from which he had just come. The bright
lights emitted a muted, green glow off of every polished, metal surface. The stark contrast between the neglected room
where Ayden had been waiting and the modern cleanliness of this room somehow
made the lights glow brighter. Ayden
squinted against the sudden glare. In
the center of the room was a strange padded chair positioned under a large
circular grouping of lights. Around the
edges of the room cabinets were arranged next to counters full of medical
equipment of every variety. Ayden did
not have time to study the room for long before she was guided around to the
far side of the odd chair.
“Please,
climb up on the bench,” Tracker Jenkins asked politely, but Ayden knew that
regardless of his tone she did not have a choice in the matter.
Hesitantly,
she placed her hand on the top level, hoisted herself up, and sat on the flat
surface at the top. Ayden was careful
not to get tangled up in the leash as she steadied herself by placing one foot
on each of the two long, narrow slats below.
Every surface of the chair was padded and covered in leather that fused
to her moist, bare skin. She folded her
hands in her lap and peeked up at Tracker Jenkins through the wisps of wet hair
that covered her eyes. Her knees stuck
up in an awkward position, well above her waist. The positioning of the foot rests held her
thighs open and exposed. Ayden watched
as Tracker Jenkins’ eyes washed over her making her burn with the rosy blush of
a small child. He chuckled quietly and
shook his head, “No girl. You lay your
belly on the bench. Roll over.”
Ayden
immediately felt chastised and foolish, but quickly did as she was told. Once she had rolled over, onto her belly,
Ayden’s body molded to the table and she finally understood how the device was
meant to work. It had a padded flat area
that supported her belly. At the other end
of the padded top was a padded ring. The ring had an opening in the center, so
that her head would be supported leaving her face exposed through the hole. To either side of her were planks, padded in more
of the same material. They extended out
and had leather straps near the ends.
Her knees were now comfortably folded into a kneeling position on what
she had thought were the foot rests.
Positioned like this her full length of her body was pressed flat
against the bench.
Adyen
was grateful her face was hidden from view by the padded ring because she felt a
little foolish after her laughable mistake. Tracker Jenkins moved in closer and
with one hand firmly splayed across her back and the other on top of her head
he instructed her to lift her head slightly and spread her arms out to the
sides. Ayden complied as he stepped to
the front of the table, near her head.
With her head raised her gaze was fixed directly on his zipper. There was something in his mannerisms that made
Ayden’s belly tense, but she could not understand why he had this effect on her. She looked up, slowly, to find him smiling
down at her and she quickly averted her eyes.
He removed the leash that was chained to her collar, but Ayden could
feel his amused smile still on his face as he worked. With the leash removed, he attached a clip
from the ring to her collar, then placed his hand on the back of her head, and
pressed her face back down to the leather ring.
He
was wrapping new cuffs around her wrists when a tall, strikingly beautiful
woman entered the room. She was wearing
a nurses’ uniform that looked like it had been pulled from the pages of a 1940s
Sears catalog; complete with white thigh-high stockings held up by a garter
belt and a little white cap pinned to her head that had a red cross on the
front. The hem of her skirt was short
and barely covered the button-hole fasteners where her lacy white garter belt met
the top of her stockings.
The
nurse announced with a smile in Tracker Jenkins’ direction, “Doctor Bob will be
here in just a moment. He is completing
his notes from the last detainee.”
Tracker
Jenkins was watching the pretty nurse busy herself as she straightened medical
implements and shuffled papers and he continued to tighten the cuffs on Ayden’s
wrist until there was no slack left in the leather bands. Once the shiny metal buckles were secured,
Ayden’s arms were immobilized. She tried
to raise her head to get a better look around the room but the clip attached to
her collar only allowed her to lift her chin to the level of the padded ring.
Tracker
Jenkins patted Ayden softly on the forearm and asked, “Comfy?” To which she
rewarded him with a silent smile and nod.
The
nurse approached a cabinet near Ayden’s feet.
Ayden could hear the freshly oiled drawer being pulled from its cabinet. There were muffled sounds of metal bumping
against metal, but Ayden was unable to turn her head far enough to see what the
pretty nurse was doing. A moment later the
nurse’s soft hands were on Ayden’s ankle and in a delicate voice she whispered,
“Relax dear. I am just going to bind
your legs.”
First
one leg, and then the other, was positioned properly onto the support. Then a leather strap was buckled into place
over her shins, so that she was incapable of moving either of her legs. The nurse then gently nudged the hinged
supports, where Ayden knelt, pulling Ayden’s knees apart. Ayden lay in such a position that she appeared
to be sitting in a chair that is lying face down. Her legs were tucked under her body, but
spread out on either side.
“Okay you are all set,” Tracker Jenkins
announced and retreated to the far corner of the room, where he stood with his
arms folded and stared blankly at the air in front of him.
A
cool breeze blew between Ayden’s legs ruffling the freshly drying hair. Ayden attempted to distract herself by watching
as the nurse bustles around the room wheeling trays of medical instruments over
to the bench. The perpetual movement of
the nurse began to take of the appearance of a butterfly in search of nectar as
her feet fluttered in and out of view.
Before the nurse has finished her harried preparations the door in the
far corner of the room, opposite from the one Ayden entered, opened and quietly
latched. Ayden could hear approaching
footsteps but did not attempt to raise her head. She waited for another set of feet to come
into view.
“Good
morning, Doctor. How are you
today?” Ayden recognized Tracker
Jenkins’ voice and tilted her head slightly, raised an ear in his direction,
and waited to hear a response that never came.
Tracker
Jenkins described a list of Ayden’s brief history as he knew it, “Possible
runaway captured at the Squeeze Inn this morning. She has been flogged one time. I am sure it will heal up fast enough, but it
should be noted and watched. She seems
healthy and has not given us any difficulties.”
“Age?”
came the deep clear voice of the doctor as he stepped closer to her. It sounded as if he were standing near her
feet, but when Ayden strained she could not lift her head enough to see
him. “Age?” he repeated, but the second
time was much more insistent.
“Dear,
he means you,” the nurse said as she nudged Ayden’s arm.
“Oh!
23,” was Ayden sudden, stunned reply.
Her cheeks pressed in by the padding of the ring made her voice sound
strange in her ears.
“Subject
arrived this morning from the Squeeze Inn.
Upon first glance she appears healthy and compliant. Age, 23. Average height and healthy weight.” The doctor’s voice was clearly coming from,
down low, between her feet and Ayden was distracted as she pondered this. She tugged at her restraints and tried to get
a glimpse of the doctor, but her curiosity was not rewarded.
“Very
well, let’s get this exam done. It has been
a long, tiring day,” the doctor said with a loud clap of his hands that echoed
off the ceiling and walls.
Ayden
felt the doctor’s gloved hands slide up her inner thighs as he began the
exam. One hand pressed against her left
leg and pushed the leg strapped helplessly to the hinged slat further to the
left. His other hand gently moved to
spread the folds of her labia. He opened
it only far enough to easily welcome the intrusion of one finger that applied a
moist gel to her clit. With her legs
still spread and imprisoned she could not move to diminish her reaction. Slowly, the gel began to warm her skin. The tingling little clit erupted from its
hiding place. Moisture seemed to
increase her arousal; the gel grew warmer with each beat of her racing heart. The moisture that swathed her clitoris is
again brushed by the doctor’s fingertip which only awakened its fiery reaction. Her back arched instinctively and rose to
greet this new sensation. She moaned
uncontrollably.
“Excellent
clitoris response. A solid 8, and
clearly trainable,” and as suddenly as her decadent indulgence became enjoyable
the doctor used a rough cloth to wipe it away.
Ayden’s quiet whimpers went unnoticed as did her silent plea for the
sweet agony to resume.
Still
breathless she felt the cold of a smooth, metal implement as it invaded
her. Her body tensed but she could not
move to escape it. She briefly glanced
to where Tracker Jenkins stood. He was
still there; his arms were clasped behind his back and he was staring straight
ahead of him at a blank wall. Ayden turned
to the nurse, but did not find rescue.
The doctor laid his hand on her lower back and slowly guided the cold
metal deep inside of her, passed the little clit that still begged for heat. Ayden tried to relax as the metal expanded
her from inside. She could hear each
twist of the screw that pried her open.
The doctor’s breath was the only sound in the room and it was magnified by
the silence. Finally he commented aloud,
“I see no evidence of pregnancy, but I see no barrier in place. Score that a
6.”
Quickly
the metal that had only just begun to warm against her skin loosened and slid
from her body. Ayden took in a deep
breath and let it out along with the implement.
Helplessly, she wondered if he was done, but neither Tracker Jenkins nor
the nurse moved to her rescue.
“Nurse,”
was the doctor’s singular command that brought the nurse rushing to Ayden’s
side. There was more metal jostled
around and Ayden realized the noise came from the trays of medical tools the
nurse had been preparing. Nervously, she
waited until the gentle hands of the nurse moved her legs back towards the
center until her knees were only as wide as her pinned shoulders, but it did make
her defenseless position a little more comfortable. The nurse pressed one of her small hands on
each cheek of Ayden’s sore tush. Her
touch was delicate as she gradually spread them open, but the heat radiating
from the marks left by the mornings flogging were a clear reminder that Adyen
no longer controled her own destiny.
The
wait for what was to come next seemed to last an eternity, but just as she
began to relax the doctor’s finger entered her orifice and applied the gel
inside of her. She involuntarily tightened
against the finger which was only there a moment. Ayden immediately began to panic as the
warming gel activated. There was no way
to escape the heat. Her attempts to move
her hips only brought the nurse’s hands down firmly and pinned her in
place. With her sole focus on the heated
gel she was taken by surprise when the doctor slowly inserted something into
her burning hole. She tried to fight it. She tightened her muscles, but she was a
captive in their hands.
Ayden’s
eyes began to well up and she did not know if it was out of discomfort or the
degradation of her plight. Just as she began
to think she could bare it no longer the doctor slowly spun the implement
inside of her before he edged it in further.
The battle against this invasion was futile and she was stretched to the
point of pain. The tears dampened the
leather around her face forcing her to turn her head to the side. She slowly panted, willing the device to be
removed from her.
“Doctor
she is still fighting it,” the nurse observed.
“Yes
and I do not want to cause any damage so we may need to wait and then try
again,” he explained to her.
Ayden
tried to clear her head; to think of anything other than this incursion, to
calm herself. She looked at the
cupboards that line the walls and the jars filled with colored liquid on the
counter. But her mind was continually
reminded she was being invaded because the doctor periodically spun the
intruding device inside of her which caused the gel to tingle with each painful
twist. Then came her final
humiliation. With one final twist Ayden
grunted as the device was plunged deeper inside her. She cried out this time, “Please, no more.”
The
seconds passed but finally the doctor sighed loudly and relented. The device was slowly, carefully removed, but
not fast enough for Ayden. She tried to
help it along. Salty tears trickled over
her nose and down the side of her face to puddle onto the leather ring near her
cheek.
The
doctor’s hollow voice echoed off the walls and it sounded like thunder as he
passed judgment on her, “Anal score 2. Detainee needs stretching and training. Is non-compliant.” Two more tears trailed across Ayden’s face
when she realized that she had failed.
“Nurse,
please tend to the girl,” the doctor said from across the room.
“Yes,
Doctor,” the pretty nurse replied sweetly.
The
heels of her shoes clicked across the tile floor. She moved quickly to a drawer below the jars
full of liquid. Ayden watched as the
nurse groped around and retrieved a small tube of ointment and several cotton
swabs. Upon returning to Ayden’s side
the nurse saw she was upset and tried to soothe her, but Ayden was not
listening to her words. Lightly, the
nurse applied the cooling salve to the marks left by the flogger. It chilled what little heat remained. Ayden closed her eyes and tried to push the
images of the room from her mind. She
actually began to relax and give herself over to the comforting massage of
healing balm. By the time the nurse finished
Ayden had nearly forgotten her indignities and lay tranquilly pinned in the
custody of her captors.
Tracker
Jenkins and the nurse both moved in and removed her bindings. Without a word Ayden was placed on her feet
where she stood before a man that was barely as tall as her navel. Never before had she seen such a man. She could not keep from letting out a little
gasp of surprise. He was wearing dull
green scrubs and Ayden bit back a smile because he was short; very short. He was standing at full height, but his eye
level only reached to the small patch of hair that barely hid her supplicant
little clitoris.
“Needs
to be shaved before the auction,” he said into a small recording device hanging
from his ear.
Having
nearly forgotten her nakedness Ayden was looking down at him smiling, because
she was so captivated by the curious looking doctor who had just examined
her. His hair was a bright auburn with
the top pulled back into a neat ponytail.
It framed the delicate features of his face, however it did not obscure
the fact that he had elongated, pointed ears jutting out from under his long
straight hair that cascaded from under the ponytail to pour over his shoulders. His deep brown eyes were kind and except for
his apple red lips the rest of his face was mostly hidden behind a well-trimmed
beard. She was so amused that she did
not notice him reach up to her left nipple until he closed it in a vise-like
pinch.
“Hey!”
she shrieked. It was instinctual and it
flew from her lips before she could pull it back. She reacted without thinking; jumped back and
reached up to cover her throbbing nipple.
She tried her best to rub the sheering pain away.
The
doctor’s gentle eyes instantly turned stern.
“Do not make me have you restrained again. You will fold your hands behind your head and
keep them there until told to do otherwise.
Do you understand?” he asked and it was less of a question than a
directive. He glared at Tracker Jenkins
standing beside her. The iciness of his
words startled Ayden. She felt like a
child who has just been scolded. She
nodded her head and fought the tears that threatened to fall anew as she laced
her fingers behind her head.
The
doctor reached up again and twisted as he pinched her right nipple this
time. Ayden bit her lip and raised her
eyes to the ceiling still fighting the tears.
When he released it the pain instantly dissipated and the tingling
sensation left behind made the little ball harden proudly.
“Very
nice, with the exception of that outburst.
Clearly a, 7,” was his instruction to the recording device on his
ear. “You may relax,” he told
Ayden. She tried but felt stiff and
scared not knowing what was going to happen to her. Slowly she lowered her arms but awkwardly
fretted on what to do with her nervous hands.
It was only now that she began to wonder how she would ever get out of
this prison.
“You
will have to hurry to make it to the lineup,” were the doctor’s parting words
to Tracker Jenkins before he left the room.
Tracker
Jenkins glanced at his watch and sighed.
Turning to the nurse he asks, “Can you please finish with her? I have got to get out to the line. I am overdue already.”
The
charming girl nodded and set down the tools that she was tidying. She stepped over to Ayden and gently placed
her hand on Ayden’s elbow to guide her forward through a door in the far corner
of the room. Her only direction was a
quiet, “Come.” As they went through the
door into the next room Ayden was hit with a wave of humid air. The heat was almost stifling and for the
first time Ayden felt almost grateful for her nakedness.
In
the middle of room was a large sunken pool of water with a fountain of flowing
water at the center. All along the edge were
seats. The nurse nodded towards the pool and whispered, “You will have to bathe
quickly or we will both be in trouble.
We do not want to be late.”
Ayden
stepped forward and dipped her toes into the water. It was hot and soothing. She lowered her body into it and immediately
began to relax with each pass of the soap over her aching body. As the nurse busied herself in the corner
behind her Ayden slipped down into the water until it was up to her neck. There was something about the feel of the
slick warm water against her skin that made Ayden’s eyes feel heavy.
“What
are you doing?” the nurse exclaimed. “I
told you we have to hurry. Come on
now. Get out of there.”
Ayden
jumped to her feet, rinsed off in a splash, and quickly did as she was told. She scrambled up the seat and out of the
bath. “I have laid out a towel and tunic
for you in the corner. Please get
dressed for line up.” In the corner was
a beautifully embroidered antique screen.
On closer inspection the stitching was frayed and coming unraveled in
places, but you could still see that it was once a lovely accent from a lady’s
room. Ayden slipped behind it and found
an institutional white towel that was barely large enough to soak up the water
from her skin. She slipped it into a
basket behind her and looked around for some clothing.
She
cleared her throat and tentatively asks, ”Um, I do not see any clothing here.”
The
nurse appeared behind her and Ayden jumped; not having heard the click of her
heels coming around the corner of the screen.
In her hand she held a small green glass bottle. She asked Ayden to lift her arms out to the
side and Ayden could hear the urgency in the young girl’s voice. Ayden barely had her arms raised when the
girl began to pour the liquid from the bottle into her hands and rub them
together. She started at Ayden’s arms
kneading the oil into her skin. It had a
sweet pleasant smell that made Ayden feel calm.
It was not until the nurse began to massage the oil into Ayden’s bare
breasts that she felt a twinge of embarrassment, but if there is one thing that
she had learned today it was to be yielding.
Ayden did not move even as the nurse stroked the oils across her body,
or up her naked thighs, but when the nurse stroked the oils between the folds
of her labia Ayden sucked in a deep breath holding it hoping that she would not
respond to the touch of this woman whose hands were so delicately touching
her. However, when the nurse pinched one
of the innermost folds Ayden let out a gasp and heard the woman laugh, “Get
used to being touched and you will do well.”
She was done quickly and lifted a small piece of cloth that had been
deposited across the top of the screen and handed it to Ayden, “Here.”
Ayden
took the cloth and looked at it unsure what she was to do with it. She began to turn it over in her hands when
she noticed the hole at the middle and an insignia on one side of the hole. It was a tunic like the ones the girls at the
Inn were wearing. Ayden wondered if she
would have to pull a carriage. This
tunic is different. It is not pretty and
it did not have a logo of a pretty girl in a glass on the front. It was plain orange and the block letters on
the front spelled out, “Mystic Cove Detention Center.” She slipped it over her head. It covered her in front and behind. She fumbles looking for ties at the sides but
there were none.
She
was still groping for some way to secure the drape when the nurse hustled her
out a door into a bright open room with windows high on the walls. She was suddenly surrounded by girls dressed
exactly like she was and they were all in military style rows. The nurse gently pushed her into the middle
of the nearest line and whispered in her ear telling her not to move and just to
do as she was told. Ayden barely had
time to nod before the nurse disappeared leaving her alone in the crowd.
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