Juliette The Super Tramp

                            Juliette the Super Tramp - Chapter 14

    I could hear them before they appeared to surround my body, eager for the dose of sexual relief that I normally provided. However it was, as usual, the exalted members of the men's wing that had first call on my services. It was common knowledge among the staff, but never openly discussed for fear that those involved would be severely punished, or even fired. That hierarchy ranged from interns up through the ranks of doctors and then on to the higher caste of surgeons, those who literally held the power of life or death when the patient was laid out on the table totally numbed and completely vulnerable. It always reminded me of the opening to that TS Eliot masterpiece, but I digress. Finally at the pinnacle sat the hospital administrators in all their unbounded glory. Strangely, based on my limited experience in dealing with the exalted ones, I discovered that the degree of inherent cruelty lodged within each matched their position in the hierarchy. Naturally I played to that crowd and did my best to drive them into a frenzy, for they in truth held the power to provide that which I so desired and for which I would do anything short of death.

    The first member of the medical profession to examine me immediately recognized the work of nurse Crocet. He called out to his peers that I was bobby trapped and needed the attention of "Specs". I remembered having some dealings with him previously, mostly because of his rather large cock and the energetic way he employed it to deal the maximum pain and discomfort that he could dredge up from his memory. He had been sorely used financially in a previous marriage that left scars on his psyche and he used this experience to dominate and degrade me to his rather limited capability. He got his nickname from the fact that he used magnifying glasses to assist him in doing surgery in very limited areas. Normally he had no need for glasses when he wasn't operating.

    While we waited, I tried my best to make contact with my eyes, but it was too dark or they weren't interested. I had no feeling whatsoever in my mouth and that included my tongue, which frightened me a great deal. What would prevent my fat cock-licker from slipping down my throat; neatly cutting off my air and rather quickly exhausting what had been in my lungs? I fretted some more and then the group of males surrounding my gurney parted to allow Specs to examine me. He wasted no time identifying the work of nurse Crocet, providing a running commentary as he poked and prodded my vulva and vagina. Of course he quickly discovered the stainless steel discs and the spot-welded steel thread. He dismissed her efforts as amateurish and easily and totally eliminated. Specs started laughing once he homed in on the efforts of my nurse to prevent my anus from being breached. Finally he summed up his prognosis for my availability, and it was greeted with loud cheers from the perverts. Naturally I was delighted for myself, but depressed by the abject failure of nurse Crocet's attempt to thwart my fan club from enjoying the fruits of victory, whatever that meant in reality.

    Specs understood the things that made me tick and often took full advantage of them for his own benefit. Today he was unhappy that I was aiding and abetting a felony as far as he was concerned. He made no bones about his decision on this matter. I was to be rendered unable to feel any sensation, which included pain. I was crushed, but had nothing to offer in exchange for a reduction in my penalty. He shot me full of high-energy painkillers and waited for them to take affect, which did not take long. I felt like vomiting and that frightened me no end. If I gave into this urge, I might be signing my own death warrant!

    Ten minutes after the last shot had been emptied into my blood stream; the discs came out of my vagina and anus in the twinkling of an eye. He even went so far as to pull the stainless steel thread from my body in two quick yanks, which frustrated me no end. It was then that he realized nurse Crocet had numbed my mouth, teeth and tongue. He added to my pain and despair by shooting my mouth and tongue with even more anesthetic, grinning as he whispered I'd be numb for the next six hours, guaranteed. Tears came to my eyes and a smile broke his craggy face. He waved at the group waiting anxiously to have their urges satisfied, and walked away for the moment. I knew his tastes; he enjoyed wallowing in the ocean of sperm that filled my entrances once the wing employees and patients had their fill of me. He turned to the waiting mob and announced I was open for business. This was met with wild cheers as well as muttered threats to make me pay for this delay. Those were the words I wanted to hear and so I lay back and waited for my adoring fans to begin worshipping my body.

    There was one more minor detail that needed attention, the leg spreader that was locked in place, making some sex acts almost impossible to achieve. One of the administrators, eager to begin brutalizing me, quickly produced a key and with a flick of the wrist I was truly open for business. It was no surprise that my legs were elevated and spread wide, anchored to the contraption that fit over the gurney. The exalted ones usually took me one-to-one. Normally it was a truncated around the world, starting at my mouth then down to my pussy and finishing in my asshole. A few of them used a suction bulb to collect their offerings so I could swallow them, thus getting rid of the evidence. As luck would have it, my first partner was one of the fastidious ones. I was terrified about what to do when he emptied the bulb of cum into my benumbed mouth. It was no use struggling, so I let nature and gravity take its course. I was relieved to know that his cum was received without any trouble, one less thing to worry about now.

     From my experience there was only one administrator who could make my eyes cross with his big cock, and he was next on line. This man was nasty and loved to deliver pain and suffering. It was surprising that many of the others didn't fit the mold as well. He gave me a grin and slipped on one of his patented condoms that made a girl think that a group of wolverines were busy chewing her cunt to pieces as he worked it up and down from my cervix to the mouth of my twat. I winced momentarily when he slathered his condom with liquid fire. It was a special mixture featuring essence of nettles and chili peppers with a touch of lye. I may be a pain slut, but handling this had always proven to be a challenge. This time was no exception.

    He teased me until I thought I'd go crazy before he slammed his big, thick cock all the way up my delivery system as he called it. Thanks to the injections from Specs I was able to ignore this initial salvo. However the injections didn't cover my cervix and surrounding environs. The concentrated pain caused flashes of light to race across my eyeballs and made me think my uterus had caught fire. His face beamed as he wiggled his hips to make the feeling continue. Even a pain slut has her limits, and he was closing in on mine. Out that battering ram came to rub against my numbed cunt lips and totally dead clitoris. That angered him somewhat and so I paid the price. The second trip up my twat was even more painful than the first. He had really put his back into it this time and I thought my uterus had been ruptured.

    It got worse as he simultaneously fucked me bowlegged and choked the life from me. I blacked out and from what I'm told, managed to swallow my tongue. I felt cheated out of some excellent pain pulses, despite the terrible pounding my insides took. They brought me around for more punishment. I started mentally cursing Specs for what he had done to my capability for enjoying pain. I'd prefer not to go into the gory details of what the rest of the administrators did to my helpless body, but they left plenty of teeth marks, deep fingernail scratches and bruises. Naturally my tits drew most of their attention. There were many times when I wish I had a set of crab apples not even worthy of a training bra. The only thing that kept me going was the outside chance that the drugs would wear off before the gangbang ended.

    The cutters, as they liked to describe themselves, were next on the list. I have never been comfortable with this group. In truth they act as if I am nothing but a piece of meat that can be filleted, sliced thin or trimmed of too much fat. On more than one occasion I have stared helplessly at a scalpel in the hand of what appeared to all the world as someone who was in need of therapy to cure his obsession. Once again I digress, perhaps out of fear that one of these times I will be gutted and my body dismembered in the interests of medical science.

    They had been briefed about my admission to this wing as a special patient. This was considered carte blanche for their little foibles as they described them. The first time I realized this was when one of them took a scalpel and carefully sliced open my outer and inner labia while his peers gathered round and critiqued his work in good-natured fashion. I was petrified! What if he decided to rid me of my most precious gift, my clitoris? My life would be ended her and now on this gurney in semi-darkness. What added to my terror were the blood and the lack of feeling thanks to the shots I'd gotten earlier.

    They had surrounded me to the point that I was unable to see what was happening at my crotch. Then I felt pressure at about the same time some of the bystanders started laughing and urging the surgeon to put some more muscle into whatever he was doing. Not being able to feel pain was horrible, especially when I realized whatever was going on would probably generate plenty of my favorite drug. I heard enough comments for me to realize that I was being fisted. Damn it all! There should have been plenty of pain attached to even an average pussy fisting, unless the surgeon was using lubricant, fat chance of that! The pressure grew and expanded. That fist was moving up toward the promised land. If it kept on, sooner or later I'd be able to feel some pain and then everything would be fine for a time at least.

    I heard whistles and even clapping as the pressure increased inexorably. Indeed he was getting closer. Then the cat was out of the bag and I nearly fainted. There were two fists working their way to the promised land that explained the slitting of my cunt lips, both sets, they needed the space! For reasons that make no sense, I became nauseous. Then I began to obsess and all hell broke loose in my mind. What if they ruptured my uterus or tore the lining of my cunt, then what? I was so busy with creating and imagining fears that when the pain intruded, I hardly noticed. Once again I did the swallow the tongue bit, but my audience hardly noticed. I soon noticed big time! I wasn't getting any air and if someone didn't do something quickly their blow-up doll, namely me, would shuffle off to another plane of existence, probably in hell with any luck.

    Evidently my face began to change color and there was some bantering about me perhaps reaching pale blue, a sure sign of imminent death. The battering my uterus was absorbing sort of kept my mind from obsessing on my impending death. The last thing I recall was closing my eyes and enjoying the fireworks that were taking place beneath my lids. There was a circle of grinning faces surrounding me when I awoke. While I was away, they discovered that my face was sensitive to the touch. Like any pain slut, I'll take whatever they give me and say thank you. The pain was high grade, but not in abundance. They had divided my face into separate zones that were each commanded by one surgeon.

    My face was literally carved into small pieces, leaving deep furrows that made any attempt to show how I felt almost impossible to generate. I could feel the scalpel as it sliced open my skin and a layer or two of flesh below it. I could feel the blood as it welled up to cover the exposed surface. Then there would be those tiny, sharp jolts of high quality pain radiating from the sliced flesh as they performed other maneuvers to reshape what had been my identity. Each surgeon had a different touch, so to speak, and the type and level of pain that I received reflected those subtle changes.

    Collectively they had cut nerves and muscles prior to suturing the skin into this new grand design. One of the cutters came up with the name of the woman in the iron mask, and so I was christened in blood and pain, almost like a birth.  I was devastated! Worse still, I had no feeling in my new face. This had not been in the agreement I had with my physician. Then it dawned on me. She was a mere doctor and a woman to boot. I, her patient, was even lower in the grand scheme of things. I'd like to make light of my situation, but could not. There is very little I remember until it was the turn of the doctors, no the male doctors, to have their sport with what was left of me.

    There were complaints that my cunt was much too loose for good sex, as if these rapists were any experts in the art of fucking. I still had very little sensation in my cunt except near my uterus, which had taken a brutal battering and still provided me some small degree of pain to keep me going. It took some doing, but two of them managed to penetrate my pussy at the same time. I felt pressure but no pain. Their performance left much to be desired on my part and brought catcalls from the other members of this exalted profession. Naturally I paid for my temerity of failing to be the ideal piece of fuckmeat that they expected.

    The more pragmatic of the group decided to use my asshole, which was still relatively tight. It seemed that everyone had his own special condom. Some had bumps or ridges, others swirls for that corkscrew effect. However what separated them was the material they used to coat their condoms. It always burned like fury, but the duration varied from condom to condom. Of course the deeper the cock the more the pain. My idea of the perfect fuck would be someone with a fifteen-inch cock that was perhaps four inches across. Now that would get my attention!

    The line of doctors was a bit longer than normal. It seems that there had been two new hires according to one of the regulars. At the time he was stretching my asshole to its limit with a thick extender liberally coated with his special sauce. As I have mentioned previously, even to a pain slut like yours truly there can be too much of a good thing. This was what my dear lover wannabe, Dr. Lois Marquad-Snyder, was depending upon in my case. Of interest she was born with that hyphenated name, compliments of the family. It proved to be quite useful in fending off amorous swains who sought her company for fornication, dominance or sadomasochistic activities.

    The grand finale featured two doctors embedded almost to the hilt in my sore, tired asshole. It had taken many long minutes for them to achieve this status, and the mingling of their different coatings had provided some very novel effects in the type and level of pain I was experiencing. I doubted if this coupling provided much enjoyment for the two doctors, but I got enough pain from it to almost make me forget my new face. As usual the group had collected every drop of semen they had produced during this session and normally I was expected to do some tricks with the mess before ingesting it and pleading for more. Since that was out of the question, they filled small rubber bulbs and squirted the cum into my nostrils. That was not a good idea. I was still quite numb and had no way to address ridding myself of this gift from the gods. I struggled to get their attention but failed miserably. So I resigned myself to passing out, hoping to either get their attention this way or ending my miserable life here and now. As usual I got the short end of the stick.

    I was given a cursory examination to make sure I could handle the nearly twenty patients that were being led in by the two hard-faced male nurses and the armed security type. The doctor announced I was good to go and stepped away from the gurney. Immediately two patients clambered onto the table I was occupying. One stuck his cock down my throat, at least I thought he did, and the other rammed his hard length of cock into my dead pussy. It was all the same to me except that the one doing my throat was cutting off my air supply. I don't know how many times you can lose consciousness from oxygen depravation before brain cells begin dying, but I must be getting very close.

    Somehow I survived the first onslaught and settled into a rhythm. There was very little that these poor wretches could do to change the situation. Most of my good parts were still insensitive and my sex partners really had no clue as to what this pain slut really needed from them. It truly was sex by the numbers, with the armed guard doing the tallying. On occasion, in former gangbangs such as this, I wondered just what the guard would do to yours truly if given the chance. Was he well hung with incredible stamina and a vicious attitude toward persons like myself? Then I'd imagine him taking out his anger on me for being the depraved slut that he and I both knew I was. Once he had emptied his big balls into my cesspool of a cunt he'd make me pay dearly for seducing him. First he'd use his baton on my fat tits and pound them until the skin burst from the swelling. Then up my filthy, diseased cunt with that fat, long length of hard wood to see if he could force it into my womb and guarantee that I'd never be able to spawn. That thought by itself was almost able to bring me to a very satisfying orgasm. Unfortunately "close" was not "there", as I found out every time I tried to make it to the other side using this as my passkey.

    I must have lost track of time despite the numerous times my air supply was compromised. Somehow I'd taken on all my patients and survived to tell about it. Unlike the others, these poor folks in truth had no grudges against me. They also didn't ever show me the disrespect, as did their superiors. In a sense we were all in the same boat. Suddenly there was a commotion, loud voices, and the patients moving away from what was the center of this turmoil. One of the voices sounded familiar, but it was not possible to see who that individual was. Then she burst through the wall of patients to come face to face with me. There she was, my good friend, confidant and physician, Lois Marquad-Snyder.

                              (To be continued - lex ludite)