Juliette The Super Tramp

                                 Juliette the Super Tramp - Chapter 18

       I was ravenous; it had been a considerable time since my last feeding. Those in charge of my care ignored me at every turn as they went about their responsibilities. I tried flirting, but was a miserable failure with my ruined face and one big eye blinking randomly while the other remained tightly shut as a symbol of the male surgeon's primacy over me. For the first time since I had been wheeled into this concrete cubicle disguised as a private hospital room, I was given the luxury of a sponge bath. I was elated and eager to show my appreciation by squeezing off any number of orgasms. That was not to be thanks to my new mistress Dr. Dunne, who had given very strict orders that no fraternization should occur between the orderlies, nurses and me, their patient.

       The sponge bath was a prevue of coming attractions, which depressed me no end. Instead of the traditional soap lotion and a gentle massage of my dry skin to work the soap into my thirsty, soiled pores, it was a harsh detergent more applicable to cleaning pots and pans encrusted with burnt offerings. My psyche was devastated by this mauling of my bare body. Instead of a soothing massage my skin was scraped raw with brushes more suitable for the kitchen in an institutional setting, such as a prison or hospital. My mind was jolted by the realization that I was indeed in a prison disguised as a hospital. Things got worse as the scrub brushes found their way into my more intimate passageways. Now there were two of these foul instruments assaulting my insides, one delving deep into my cunt or "twat" as they described it, the other seeing how far a bottlebrush could penetrate my lower intestine. Had these been cocks I might have enjoyed the sensation they caused, but brushes were definitely not de rigueur for the cleaning of the female interior.

       These harpies also used these weapons to accost my ears, armpits and even beneath my large tits. They saved my pubic region for last and by the time they were done removing at least the top layer of skin from this intimate region, it was raw and quite coarse to the touch. My labia majora and minora were swollen and an unhealthy reddish color when they finished scrubbing them. By now I smelled of laundry soap and much of my body began to itch. It was apparent that some constituents of the detergent were inimical to my skin; probably they knew that in advance and saved the nasty surprise to the end of my cleansing. No, I was wrong; these fiends had saved the worst for last.

       An eyedropper was produced, and as I watched with my one eye it was filled with the detergent straight from the container. The last thing I saw after they taped my good eye into the open position were the drops falling from the little dispenser. The pain was nothing compared to the incredible fear that seized me by the throat and threatened my mind. I was unable to see although I knew that eye was functioning perfectly before they put those drops into it. They had blinded me! I was doomed to a life of blindness, unable to see what was coming, be it something wonderful or horrible. I had just discovered a new level of fear that overwhelmed any joy associated with pain. How did these bitches know that was my major weakness?

       I have no idea how long I raved and ranted at my handlers, all the doctors at this insane asylum including my dear friend and former lover, Lois, and finally myself. It was myself that was responsible for the current situation. I too trusting, too arrogant, and above all too self-confident that there was nothing with which I could not deal. Well, here I was in restraints, neutered, blind and at the mercy of anyone who had access to my little prison cell. As I soon discovered, things would only get worse and quickly. As the time passed, I began to grow slightly less insane. I started an inventory of my assets, which soon depressed me to the point that if able I would have committed suicide.

       At least I was able to still smell that terrible detergent they had used to wash my body. That was a small plus, but nonetheless an asset. My hearing was intact, another asset for the moment At least I could hear my tormentors coming to demean, degrade and torture me, which provided some time to mentally prepare myself. My sense of taste remained in neutral, not helped at all by the ball gag stuffed into my mouth until my jaws seemed on the verge of becoming dislocated. My constant, meaningless struggles to break free of the metal bonds that secured me to the narrow bed gave plenty of proof about my tactile capabilities. So in summation except for not being able to see, my body functioned normally. Then I factored in my sex and pain capabilities and how they were a large positive factor in my psychic makeup. That was a catastrophic loss if things stayed the same as they were right now. At the thought of losing them permanently I went into a death spiral, all was lost.

       Some time later, how long was moot; the door to my cell opened and by straining my ears I managed to discern there were two persons. I steeled myself for whatever they intended to do to me. A hand made contact with my inner thigh and squeezed the flesh almost impersonally. My signal to whoever it was brought low laughter and an even tighter squeeze to the same area. For some odd reason their voices were muffled, but there could be no doubt that two persons had joined me; for what reason time would tell. My catheter was removed for a few moments and then reinserted smoothly with a minimum of discomfort, which did not sit well with me. "What happened to pain?" I thought. Struggling against my bonds was fruitless and totally ignored by my visitors. Then I felt something settling over my ears and my ability to hear was gone. A different hand patted my left tit and then there was no contact. In time it became obvious that my visitors had done whatever they were to do and departed leaving me minus another one of my assets.

       For a time I tried to hibernate, willing my pulse rate to diminish, but was unsuccessful as my pulse rate began to accelerate and a cycle driven by fear took over my body and mind. On the verge of hyperventilating, my mind took control of things and calmed me down, a miraculous feat for one so undisciplined as myself. Time continued to leak from me like a wound. How quickly were the minutes, hours, even days passing? When would there be more contact with human beings such as myself? Sleep overcame me for a time. It might have been minutes, hours, who could tell? My mind began to play tricks. At first the voices were welcome. They sounded like my former lovers and those who enjoyed making me scream and beg for more of that wonderful pain they could induce in my bare body. For a time this was my entertainment and it seemed to work after a fashion.

       I was remembering back to the beginning when plucking my pubic hair as ordered by my master would make me wet and eager for sex and more pain. That seemed so trite when compared to the heavy-duty pain and punishments that were the standard bill of fare just recently. The approaches had become more sophisticated and inventive, yielding a better grade of orgasm as well as much higher levels of pain. Who knew about the wonders of antiacupuncture, the study of using needles to induce mind-bending pain for the briefest of moments? The more my memory recalled, the less my concern for what was now reality. If chosen wisely from my storehouse of memories past, there was entertainment in abundance, enough to almost completely blot out what was passing for reality these days.

       Time no longer had very much meaning; it was either awake or sleep time. The subject of how and when concerning my sustenance was not for me to consider or care. All my energies instead were focused on retrieving as much information concerning a recent event that took place just prior to my admission to this prison that sheltered a hospital, or perhaps it was an asylum, within its walls. It had started as a fantasy game where I was kidnapped from the street. The trio of assailants ripped off my clothing and cuffed my hands behind my back, announcing that they were taking me to a warehouse located in a rundown industrial park that was a ghost town expect for the drug addicts and bums who used it as a refuge.

       I shuddered with sexual excitement at the prospect of what awaited me once the van got to its destination. In the meantime the three men, all large with beefy bodies and long, thick cocks began raping me in all my holes. Naturally I resisted furiously in order to make them angry so they would beat me up to calm me down. They fooled me badly, by driving my head against the wall of the van until I was unconscious. I remember thinking just before passing out that this wasn't any fun at all. I was going to miss all the fun, how uncivilized of them.

       Someone woke me up by pissing on me while the others crowded around and watched me sputter and try to escape the torrent of hot, golden piss that followed me as I tried to roll away. A booted foot caught me in the ribcage and that ended my career as a roller. A big hand wrapped itself around my hair and began dragging me toward a large mattress situated in the center of this large room. Once on the filthy platform they attacked me with a fury that was breathtaking and very stimulating for yours truly. Unlike a pack of dogs that might fight among themselves for the privilege of mounting the bitch in heat, here they took a number and that was that. You talk about efficiency; this was almost too much to bear. Then the first of a multitude of hard cocks slammed into my sore twat, causing me to scream from the pain and then scream harder for more of the same. It seems that those three riders had taken a considerable advantage of me while I was out cold, which explained the sharp pain I experienced unexpectedly from the first new cock. After that it was beer and skittles, as the Brits like to say.

       It took a few turns before I realized they were all wearing condoms, now that was a surprise. It took a little of the magic away from the situation, but I'm a good trouper and so I made little about the mob's aberration. I don't usually keep count and this was no exception. Thus I was a bit surprised when I was faced with fourteen cum filled condoms for disposal. It was down the hatch followed by an unladylike burp or two. There must have been over two dozen players in this round robin of lust, as I like to describe such events. At times there might be as many as four partners all doing various and sundry things to my bare body. I just adore biters and there were a few that I do recall with pleasure. Later while they were doing something even nastier to my body I did a quick inventory of the bites and they tallied up to well over twenty, with most on my special parts. But I was jumping ahead and failing to adequately recall the more inventive configurations my partners did assume.

       It was no one on one or even double penetration, these guys were pros at what they were doing. So as a minimum I'd be air tight, but often there would be four and even five men busily sawing away into, between, and down various orifices and hollows on my body. Lots of times my cunt would be doing double duty and somehow another cock had figured out a way to get into my asshole. That was just for starters, since my throat and tits were still available if a little thought was given to the challenge. It took some doing, but I managed to exhaust their collective supply of little blind swimmers. Instead of giving me a break while they recuperated, it became water sports time and me without my usual bathing suit, a two-piece designed to call attention to my best physical attributes. By then I was seeing the cutters almost monthly and sporting a set of tits that were the envy of greater than ninety-nine percent of all females allowed by Mother Nature to have tits.

       In another corner of this cavernous area was a full bathroom featuring a shower that could hold two or three people easily, a king-size toilet, a large tub made for at least two heavyweights and various items dangling from the low ceiling and sitting on the platforms jutting from the tiled walls that were on three sides of the area. They wasted no time wasting me. I got a high pressure hosing to clean out my cunt while at the same time a humming machine was delivering a high speed enema that threatened to rupture my lower intestine with its volume and power. I could literally see my belly expanding from the pressure generated by the machine that was pumping whatever the solution was into my colon and beyond. Then the glorious pain kicked in and I was once more a happy, unhealthy pain slut enjoying the ride.

       Then the guys got serious and I was in heaven. The enema they gave me was kept in by a butt plug and so my insides felt as if they had caught fire. It seems that the solution they used to blow me up was called liquid fire. Another hose wiggled its way down my throat so my bulging belly could really get a good fill-up. I looked like a woman in her tenth month with triplets. Worse or better yet, my ability to breathe was fading fast. Then the first guy took his spot between my spread thighs and began punching his cock into my super tight twat thanks to all the liquid my insides was storing. Although my poor clit was out of action, I still managed to squeeze off a tiny orgasm as I recreated my finest hour as a pain slut. Afterward there was darkness, and when I awoke it was time to go bobbing for turds.

       While I was somewhere else they had allowed my body to relieve itself of the massive amounts of nasty liquids that had been forced into it. I'm not sure whether being forced to do something is better than having no say about it at all. The enema and belly bloating had really perked me up, but being plunged headfirst into a malodorous mixture of turds, piss and god knows what else, was another story. The first time it was done I was caught unprepared and paid a penalty, inhaling a little of everything that was bubbling and hissing in the almost overflowing toilet. When they brought me up for air, I was sputtering and using my nostrils to rid myself of much of what I had ingested. It did not taste well at all; believe me on that score.

       To add to the attention I was receiving, a line had formed to use my asshole and a long, thick cock was currently plowing a furrow deep inside my sore, burning rectum. I remember with pleasure the number of tremendous poundings my nearly shattered asshole endured, all the time translating urges for more orgasms to my fevered brain. Indeed that was one of the absolute best gangbangs I ever experienced. I tried to calm down after that fond recollection of the old days before I bought into the new reality so carefully woven as to capture this fly in the spider's web. My death-life in the prison-hospital resumed its dreary pace, making me wish for anything to break the monotony of my now meaningless existence.

       Time dragged by at a snail's pace or slower. I felt totally isolated from reality; my mind was beginning to falter, remembering things only partially. Would my headstone read "death from ennui" on its stone facade? Was that to be my fate? Here I was hidden away from the world and all those who knew and enjoyed me for their own purposes. Was I not the perfect companion, always available and without limits? It wasn't fair that I should end my existence in this underground vault, buried deep inside a mountain that never had been scaled by a human being.

       It was during one of my sleep cycles that I had a visitation of either angels from heaven or imps from hell. I was awakened by the removal of my catheter and the pressure that came from the cool hand that was pressing down on my vulva. When it pinched my outer cunt lips I had a near orgasm from joy. I was still alive and able to use my limited sensory capabilities to communicate. My hopes were dashed as the fingers moved away, leaving me in limbo. Then strong hands that could only be attached to men began freeing me from my narrow pallet. My strength had evaporated over the eons that I had spent in darkness, thus my body seemed to conform to whatever was hoisting it into the air. Now I was on another surface, hard and rather cold. One of the angels had reason to move me slightly and there was substantial pain, as my muscles seemed to have atrophied. My cuffs had been removed along with the leg irons, but now I was chained again, much to my dismay. When it began moving, I realized I was on a gurney, headed for somewhere other than my little prison cell. I began to cry for joy.

                       (To be continued - lex ludite)