Juliette the Super Tramp

                                                     Prologue

       Those of you who have faithfully followed the adventures of my heroine and general screw-up, Juliette, know that her adventures abruptly ended with nurse Crocet wheeling her booby trapped body across to the men's wing of the private hospital where she had been admitted for a total physical revamping. Why the lengthy delay since then? There are many reasons, but the root cause was the fear that I might repeat myself and do True Love II without realizing until it was too late. Since I've decided to face my personal demons concerning this subject, it also became a good time to do some serious editing of the first four chapters as well. The next chapter is about a month away, so those readers who still remember this story have time to refresh their memories to make it easier to get back into the swing of things. Those unfamiliar with Juliette, but courageous enough to begin to read it now should not be put off by my miserable first attempt at editing.

                                     Chapter 1

       Saw your ad in Swingers Monthly and thought you might be interested in meeting with me for some mutually satisfying sex. This sex-crazed 27 year-old lives alone, so we could get together at my place. After fucking me all night you'll really enjoy the kind of breakfast that I'll provide when you wake up. First you'll have a snack of snatch, freshly douched, and followed by a killer blowjob that will curl your toes. After that it will be bacon and eggs, coffee, toast and anything else that will help you get back your strength so that you can begin fucking me again. By now, you are probably thinking this is all my private fantasy, a figment of some loser's attempt to create a life for herself. You're right, I'm still a virgin, but not for lack of trying to get rid of that stigma.

       Being very shy and not very good-looking, in fact I think I'm ugly because I still have pimples and my nose is too big, doesn't help my present situation. Add to that my thick glasses because of very bad eyesight, and the extra 20 pounds of flab located in all the wrong places, the result of overeating due to constantly being unhappy, and you probably have a good idea of my miserable life. If I didn't put my finger down my throat and puke up most of what lies there in my upset stomach, those 20 pounds would likely be 50! Perhaps you might enjoy fucking the pounds off my body; that idea really turns me on. In fact if you were to meet me, you could do anything you want to me. I'm sure no matter what it was; it would excite me to the point that eating would not be an issue.

       Getting back to me, my work is done in a little cubicle with a computer that produces boring things; my boss calls them products. The people in my area accuse me of dressing badly and some mention my body odor as well. Maybe it's because my body is hidden in a lot of clothes. There's my full cut cotton panties, the only kind allowed in contact with my pubic region, next my panty hose, followed by a girdle. My girdle is my shield from prying eyes; it protects my privacy and is a source of personal discipline. My bras are always white and of sturdy fabric. My boobs are such that they require no less than a 38 D-cup garment. Over this comes a skirt, long of course and a sturdy, opaque blouse or heavy loose-fitting sweater so no one can ogle my boobs, which are my best feature next to my cunt of course!

        My pubic hair is thick and springy and over the years has forged beachheads reaching to my navel and the cleft between my buttocks. The razor is a foreign object when it comes to my pubic hair and the crop that flourishes in my armpits. I'm disinclined when it comes to douching, while showers are limited to three days a week and are perfunctory at best. They occur usually on Monday, Thursday and Saturday. Maybe that's why people at work don't like to be around me.

       Because of my inability to forge lasting personal relationships, my main focus is masturbation, a habit developed during my teen years that replaced the pain of rejection by others of both sexes. My nipples are fat and they get real hard when I'm sexually excited. My cunt is my best feature, and my best friend. It has nice fat lips and a real big clit; it's always wet and the stuff that drips out is very tasty. It's fantastic to suck the juice off my fingers while I'm playing with myself. If possible I'd masturbate at work, but alas there isn't sufficient privacy to make the risk worth losing my job, such as it is. So masturbation is confined to my little apartment every night without fail.

       Once the dishes are done and put away, I'll strip naked and don my robe, a wonderful garment that cost me plenty, but has been worth every cent. Usually by seven there is a porn tape playing on my television. My favorites are girl-girl tapes, but I'll also watch a lot of anal and gangbang tapes as well. Once a month there will be a special treat, usually a bondage and discipline tape, usually on the weekend. I'll imagine that I'm being beaten and raped instead of the model; it really gets me off. Maybe you would like to tie me up and give me a good going over sometime. Well, looks like that's all for now. You think about what I've told you and get back to me real soon so we can make arrangements for your visit. In the meantime there will be lots of masturbation featuring you and me getting together and doing all the nasty things there are to do when a man and woman join as one.

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       What a great letter, it's been read by yours truly at least thirty times and it still gets me off! I'm typing this letter in the nude because I've just got through masturbating for the second time this evening. My gash goo is really flowing and it tastes so good, salty and sweet at the same time. I've tweezed out twenty pubic hairs so far tonight and I'll try for another ten even though it hurts like hell. God I'm all sweaty and nervous when the thought of being tied spread-eagled to my bed with a gag in my mouth while you pull out all my remaining pubic hairs, one by one. Is it possible for someone like me to be able to take that much pain? Maybe I'll just shave them all off. What can you do to me for that? Don't answer, every time my mind thinks about what you could do to me I'm petrified. What makes it so terrifying is because you are probably thinking of doing even worse things to me. Guess I'm a real masochist because thinking about you hurting me makes my cunt sludge ooze out without me even touching my pussy. Hope you like the nude pictures of me; an acquaintance of mine, a girl of course, took them.

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       It's so disappointing that we couldn't get together as planned! Hope you are not leading me on, that would be terrible. Still plucking out at least twenty strands of pubic hair every day, but my bush seems just as thick as when this good-will offering of mine began. Did buy some bikini panties with a sheer crotch and they do look very sexy on me. They also really show my potbelly and that bothers me a great deal. I'm so wet that my body odor smells like the stink of my cunt. It's so bad that I've resorted to douching before going to work. Please call me at the number provided so we can arrange to have lots of hot sex and you can punish me for being such a naughty girl

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       Thank you, thank you, thank you for the wonderful picture of your fantastic penis, or perhaps cock would be more appropriate, since you now know what kind of a slut I'd like to be. So it's not only nine and a half inches long, it's very thick as well. Sure would be disappointed if that monster wouldn't fit inside my cunt. That would be too much to bear! The only things that have been in my cunt are my fingers, which are kind of pudgy, and my vibrator, which is only seven inches long and never has been completely inside me. That's not really completely true. Let me confess here and now that on occasion an older woman and yours truly got together for some girl-girl fun and games. She enjoys eating my cunt, which is very tasty if you can believe my opinion. I've never gone down on her, although we do kiss a lot and her boobs are firm and very suckable according to this reporter. She's even fatter than me and is very hairy too. Perhaps that's why we enjoy each other's company now and then. To be honest, seeing her makes me realize that I'm not the worst looking woman in the world. Guess you'll punish me for that observation too. If it were possible to change places, I'd be very harsh on me as well. By the way, she's the one that took those pictures of me. You never said anything about them. Hope they weren't that bad.

                                                Chapter 2

       Now this is what sore is really all about, a new experience for me. You really stretched my poor cunt out of shape with that huge prong of yours. So this is what the girls mean when they say they were fucked bowlegged. Can hardly wait until you do it to me again. My boobs are almost as sore as my twat, you really seemed to like them, I'm glad. No bra for me while at my apartment for two good reasons; the other is that it turns me on to see all those teeth marks and bruises you put into them. You've really made a believer out of me for sure! Be advised that every day there will be fifty freshly plucked pubic hairs going into my goody bag for you until we have another fuck session at my place. God, this new life really gets my pussy juice flowing like a fountain! Now that you've made a real woman out of me, it's time to go shopping for some sexy garter belts, baby dolls and sheer bikini panties, but no bras since you seem to like my boobs to be out where you can get your hands on them.

       To be honest, the thought of taking your cock up my virgin asshole really scares me, but for you, anything as long as we are together. If it hurts, it hurts! It will be just what this real woman deserves for her bad attitude in the past. She is definitely a naughty girl and certainly needs to be punished for her failings. Hope those pictures you took of me come out. You have my permission to post them on the Internet if you black out my face. Come to think of it, you don't need my permission, do you? You made me sign something giving you the rights to the pictures while you were here and not busy fucking me into a puddle of pussy juice. It was fun to pose for them and it will be a trip to do more once you get that time-lapse thing to work. Then we can pose together while you are doing me good and proper.

       You are such a gentleman, worrying about getting me pregnant. Pulling out and shooting in my face and on my tits and belly was a very nice thing to do. It was an honor to lick up all your yummy cum and gulp it down. It's too bad that my blowjobs weren't up to the kind you have been getting from other woman. It certainly makes a lot of sense if some of your friends came over and let me practice on them. However they must know that my cunt and asshole are exclusively reserved for your use only.

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       You sure do have a lot of friends. Three came over to see me yesterday after work and tonight I've had another four. My jaw is sore from all the sucking they made me do for them. Most come pretty quickly, but then they want me to do them again. Others take forever, even though they have my permission to play with my boobs while yours truly licks, kisses, tongues and sucks their cocks. One of them even tried to give me a tip after shooting off in my mouth twice in a row without stopping. That was kind of strange, but it takes all kinds to help me become a real pro at giving head. With all the practice they provide for me, you'll surely notice the improvement in my blowjobs. There are now one hundred pubic hairs in the bag and there's beginning to be some slight difference in my bush, which gets checked every night before bedtime.

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       That was some going over you gave me. My asshole is still bleeding a little, but only when I have to move my bowels. My pussy is sore as well, but this kind of pain can be easily handled since it reminds me of the wonderful time this slut had letting you fuck my brains out. I'm counting the days until our next hot sex sessions. It's great that those pictures you took turned out, but you must have forgotten to blank out my face before you put them on the Internet. This is causing me a lot of grief at work because some people at work have seen my pictures and made copies of them that are now being circulated around the office. Suddenly a lot of guys want to take me out for motel dates at lunch and after work. No one has been successful yet, but a couple of them are threatening to send the pictures to my boss if they don't get some pussy from me in the very near future.

       

       It's truly amazing, but there are even some girls from the office who are very jealous and threatening to expose my secret life unless they get a chance at me as well. They have all sorts of very nasty things they want to do to me because they say I'm such a naughty girl who deserves to be punished and shown the error of her ways. Personally the girls are probably more tolerable than the men who seem to look upon me as the office sex slave. In that capacity there can be no limit to what they might demand of yours truly. What do you think this confused woman of the world should do? Despite all this trouble, my tweezers removed another 60 pubic hairs today and will continue to fill my hair bag until our next date. Are you really going to pull out 150 of my pubic hairs at our next meeting? At this rate my pussy will be bald as a peach in about another couple of weeks.

                                             Chapter 3

       So you say it would be better if we both started to see other people? In my opinion going on motel dates every noontime and after work is definitely not really seeing other people. It's become apparent to me that you are fucking other women because you cancel half of our dates for one reason or another. That's fine with me; this slut knows she's no prize. Because you are still so important to me, your on-again off-again sex partner will try a few dates. Perhaps some of my new sex partners will teach me a few new tricks that will make you happier with me.

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       What a week, a date every noontime and another after work; thank goodness for the pill. Friday after work three guys from the office celebrated the end of the week, by chipping in for a two-hour session with me at a local no-tell motel where the sheets are yellowed and rarely changed. They rotated to keep me busy at both ends, one in my mouth, another in my cunt and the third one jacking his cock so he'd be ready when his turn in the rotation came. To make sure they got their money's worth, they even made me take off my girdle and panty hose while they were driving me over to the motel. They even went so far as to lock them in the car trunk to make sure not to waste any precious motel time waiting for me to put them back on.

       So far my dates have just made me give them blowjobs when they're not pounding my pussy, but a couple of them are talking about fucking me up the ass next week. That scares me since their all strangers to me when it comes to ass fucking. Could be they might stretch my poor tight asshole too much and cause me to bleed for a week like my first time with you. My weight has gone down by at least two pounds this week, probably because there is no time for lunch and they give me plenty of exercise at the motel instead. My favorite position is doggie, but they also like me to ride them in cowgirl and reverse cowgirl, which really burns up the calories according to what some of them tell me.

       They never complain anymore about my blowjobs, some even compliment me on giving them good head. Evidently practice does make perfect even when it comes to giving blowjobs. So far nobody has a cock as big as yours, although a couple of them come close. Tomorrow they've invited me to go over to someone's house and be gangbanged all afternoon. The host, my current supervisor at work, has invited about a half dozen of his friends over to work on me. Sure wish you weren't out of town, because it would be nice to have some of that big fat cock of yours, even up my ass.

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       This sex-crazed girl now knows what sore really is! It turned out that the half dozen guys had taken the liberty of inviting a few friends to join the gangbang. Upon my arrival they made me strip down and my hands were cuffed behind my back. They marched me out to the pool area where the guys were waiting. All my clothing went into the pool while they put me on a chaise lounge with my legs hung over the arms. One guy straddled my chest and ordered me to begin sucking his cock. Meanwhile another guy stuffed his sausage up my cunt, which was dry as a bone. My yelping irritated the guy in my mouth, so he pushed his cock down my throat, neatly cutting off my air supply. My struggles were fruitless and exhausted the air in my lungs. It started to get dark as my lungs faltered, but in the nick of time the one plugging my throat pulled out to allow me to breathe again.

       From there it got worse. For the next couple of hours they lined up and took turns pounding my pussy to pulp, while my jaw became almost unhinged from sucking so much cock. When they decided to take a break, a couple of them thought it would be funny to throw me into the pool, where my clothing was floating. They let me almost drown before pulling me out so they could resume destroying my poor cunt. More guys showed up and soon my asshole was also getting filled with cock. It was useless to tell them that they were hurting me; all that got me was a couple of slaps across the face and some vicious twisting of my boobs and nipples. It turned out that the guy who got my asshole first and started the ball rolling was the host's boss. That was just my luck!

        There is no way to know how many guys fucked me, or how many times each did me, but it was plenty. My only break was that they took me inside before my skin got burned to a crisp. There were small areas that burned, but nothing that couldn't be covered up by clothing. Once they got me on a bed the gangbang resumed with even greater enthusiasm. Now they were able to take their time hurting me with their hard dicks. Many of them got into the liquor cabinet and soon felt no pain, but the same didn't hold true for me.

They filled me, they drilled me, they made me cry like a baby, but no one felt sorry for me in the slightest. By the time they were done with me and allowed me to dress in my soaking wet clothing, it was almost dark. To make matters even worse, one of the guys had brought a video camera and gotten plenty of tape showing me being fucked in every possible position, not to mention sucking cock and taking it up the ass as well. He'd also taken still shots that he planned to post on the Net.

       That was the end for me for sure. No self respecting man would want to get involved with a girl that did all the things this one did in the last month. Oh by the way, the guys also shaved my pussy, and did that ever hurt. They left me with dozens of nicks and cuts that will take at least a week to heal. What makes that so bad is tomorrow some of the ladies from my workplace have plans for me. They are going to punish me for being such a big whore. If they only knew the truth!

       By the time my ride got me back to my apartment, it was almost two in the morning. It was bad enough that he made me ride in the trunk of his car because my clothing was still soaked from being in the pool. He also took a detour to his place for some extra fun and games, including my first experience with being fisted, which was horrible and hurt like hell. Then to add to my misery he dropped me off two blocks from my apartment. My hands were still handcuffed from the scene that took place at his apartment. He made me kneel in an alley, open my mouth and let him fill it with his piss. He allowed me to swallow the awful tasting stuff and then he finished pissing all over my face and chest. At least he unlocked my handcuffs and sent me on my way. God, what's to become of me when there will be at least half a dozen very pissed off women waiting to do me good? I am not looking forward to that at all.

                                       Chapter 4

       It was worse than my worst fears, nothing but pain and suffering in abundance. My next appearance at work will not be for at least a few days. Hopefully by then my cunt and asshole won't be oozing anymore and I can get my swollen boobs into a bra again. Most of the welts have stopped bleeding already, and the electric shock "treatments" didn't leave any marks that my clothing won't conceal. The other stuff didn't leave any marks, but it hurts like hell anyway. This girl won't go into much detail because she doesn't want to remember what they did to her. They started me off with a major whipping while I was hanging from my wrists with ropes holding my legs apart so they could get at my pussy. There were six of them and they took turns

whipping me from neck to knee, back and front, first with straps, then switches cut from a bush in the yard, and finally with stockings filled with sugar. That last beating was murder on my poor pussy, leaving it so swollen, it's even hard to pee.

       They made me drink dishwater until my belly bulged like a woman about six or seven months pregnant, then they took turns punching me in the stomach, making me puke up all that filthy water. They untied me so I could mop up the mess I'd made on the kitchen floor, then my hands were cuffed behind my back and they marched me into the bathroom for some water sports, as they called it. Except for one trip downstairs for another beating, they shuttled me from the bathroom to the bedroom for the rest of the day, and part of the evening. They forced me to drink what seemed like a gallon of piss during that afternoon. The women took turns squatting over my face and saying " Open wide you piece of shit and swallow every drop." To make sure that happened, they used a pair of pliers to squeeze my clit flat whenever they thought me to be uncooperative. That hurt so bad this slut would do anything that told me. Probably the worse thing they made me do was drink my own piss, and they did that a lot. They fed me pussy to lick and eat and assholes to suck and slobber over when there was no piss to drink.

       They gave me a number of killer enemas; big ones that made me think my belly was about to explode in most cases. Some were hot, some were ice cold, and others were weird concoctions like laundry detergent mixed with vinegar. That one burned and was murder to dump because the stuff was so thick and heavy. They also gave me some special douches. The worse one was ammonia with some hot pepper sauce mixed into it. That one felt as if my cunt was on fire! After my first session in the bedroom the bathroom action didn't bother me as much. Those hateful bitches stretched my sore cunt with dildoes that came in only two sizes, huge and no way Jose. Some liked to put them on with straps and fuck me like it was their cock, others just enjoyed ramming it into me as hard and fast as they could. While this was going on, my boobs were twisted, bitten, slapped and stretched, and my nipples felt like they were being chewed off on a number of occasions.

       Of course they were also forcing me to suck pussy juice from their sloppy twats and stick my tongue up their smelly assholes. The fat ones would make me give them tongue baths with extra long stops at their cunts, tits, armpits and asses. They'd order me to suck their assholes while they strained to provide me with something to chew on. Thank God, none of them did! Each trip to the bathroom became more gross because everything they put into me was sooner or later dumped into the bathtub. They'd get me nice and full then put me over the edge of the bathtub and force me to puke it up. Every time anyone took a piss that didn't wind up in my mouth, it went into the tub. Guess where yours truly would be forced to lie while they filled me up with enemas and made me drink their piss? Yes, the damned tub, that's where!

       They started to get interested in my asshole when they stretched my cunt to its limit and found that the only thing that could make me grunt was a fist jammed up my tired twat. Even that got boring because all the previous activities made me too loose.  Once they could punch my cervix, there was nothing left to do to my cunt short of rupturing it with an inflatable dildo, something that was discussed, but cooler heads prevailed and spared me. So they now concentrated on my asshole. They started me out with a well-greased bullet vibrator and soon had me taking almost all of it into my asshole. Then they rammed progressively thicker and longer dildos up my sore butt. The bitches began to spit in my mouth, forcing me to swish their saliva around before swallowing it down. They forced me to ask for more and more of their spit as they used the pliers to torture my cunt lips and clit. Even when they took me to the bathroom, someone was always bending me over the tub to rape my tight asshole with a giant dildo. After a few hours of constant reaming, my bunghole started to stay open; they called it a gape. Now they began to double penetrate me, one in my cunt and another dildo in my gaping asshole. That really hurt since when my cunt got stuffed full, it made my asshole tighter to enter.

       During the entire time someone was always snapping pictures of whatever was being done to me. Naturally they were planning to post them on the Internet, and not only that, they also intended to attach my home address and phone number so that the perverts could make dates to abuse me. This sent me out of my mind with fear at this point. My last trip to the bathroom was murder. They brought up a pail of greasy dishwater and forced me to drink every drop. Of course it came up almost as fast as they could make me drink it. By now the tub was getting so full that they could dunk me and so they did, over and over until this unlucky lady passed out. That's when they started giving me electric shocks. They taped one wire to my cunt lip and touched the other to various parts of my body like my clit, asshole, armpits, belly, thighs, tits, nipples, ear lobes, eye lids, tongue and of course my cunt, which they must have been trying to fry.

       They managed to wedge two dildos up my tired twat and then gave me a huge enema. Another dildo was rammed up my sore asshole so there wasn't a way to get rid of the enema. So there yours truly lay in my own vomit, previous enemas, my and their piss and every douche I'd gotten that day, while moaning in pain as the huge enema made me cramp in waves that grew progressively stronger and stronger. It looked as if their victim, namely me, was in the final trimester of a pregnancy, and she was pleading for them to allow her to give birth. They made me void the enema into a wastebasket. My cunt was stuffed with twin dildos and another went up my tender asshole. Then the bitches made me drink what was in the wastebasket. The pliers had to be used a number of times before they calmed me down so my mind could concentrate on swallowing the liquid that had been recently churning away inside my bowels. Soon my belly was again bulging. It was over the edge of the tub once more and the dildo in my asshole was worked in and out as my recycled enema was once more puked into the tub.

       All the time pictures were being taken of me for inclusion into the package that would be posted on the Internet. They were not finished with me yet; another trip down to the basement was in store for me. Those harpies forced me to waddle down to the basement with my cunt and asshole stuffed with dildos, and my belly bulging from a gigantic enema. This time they strung me up by my ankles in a Y with my hands tied tightly behind my back and roped against the small of my back. The first wave of cramps from the mixture of hot water laced with liberal quantities of vinegar and liquid detergent already was causing me serious grief. The economy-sized dildo buried deep inside my asshole made a very effective butt plug, preventing me from expelling the enema.

       They took turns beating me with straps, switches and stockings filled with sugar, concentrating on my cunt and tits. My mind drifted in and out of consciousness as they pounded my pussy into a purplish mass of throbbing pain, and then cut my swollen pubic mound into a bleeding mess. Someone was always putting fresh welts into my crimson ass cheeks, and the damage to my tits was almost as bad as what they were doing to my pussy. My tits hung away from my chest because of my position and so they were able to get at the tender undersides. They beat my boobs into bloody swollen bags of throbbing agony. The insides of my thighs were cut to ribbons by the switches and straps they wielded. All that time my guts were twisting and cramping in pain from the relentless pressure that the huge enema was putting on my internal organs. Thoughts of dying went through my mind a number of times during the terrible beating that they gave me. Somehow it wasn't my time to die, even when one of them kicked me squarely in the face, not once but three times while the other harpies laughed.

       Finally they cut me down and let me relieve myself into a wastebasket. Things never seemed to end. It was no surprise when they threatened me with more beatings until this battered excuse for a woman began drinking the contents of that wastebasket before they allowed me to stagger up to the bathroom where they watched me puking my guts out until my face was ashen as they smirked, all the while recording my total humiliation by photographing the action. At that point there was no question that my life had changed totally and was now on another path that involved being used for other people's pleasure.

                                                         (To be continued - lex ludite)

				Juliette the Super Tramp


                                         Chapter 5

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	This is the first story I ever submitted to this site, and I've never
been  completely satisfied with Juliette or her life. So I've renewed our
acquaintance and will see how it goes. Naturally I am looking for feedback from
those who read this chapter.
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	These days it's sort of trendy if one has a blog. The average blogger is
some self absorbed loser who has no life outside of the particular fantasy he or
she has chosen to lie about. I may occasionally stretch the truth, but I have a
problem with those who are downright dishonest about their dreary lives, and
only express opinions that are strictly mainstream, and represent that fabled
creature the consensus, so popular with our elected leaders both here and
especially abroad in the former colonies.

	Those of you familiar with my former life, or should I say existence,
know that I worked very hard at earning the title of Super Tramp. In passing I
have to acknowledge the rock group of the same name that preceeded my appearance
on the scene. I beg their indulgence for my bit of thievery. On the off chance
that they wish some form of compensation, I would be very happy to arrange a
time and place for them to take their pound of flesh, or whatever kinky thing
they wish to do to me.

	As most of you know, I had finally found my calling. I was well and
truly a pain sponge and a creature whose self worth had taken a bad battering
both literally as well as figuratively. My perspective had become as warped as
my insides. My life oscillated between being beaten to a pulp by any and all who
had the time and inclination to scratch my various itches, and the hospital
where they sewed me up in exchange for the use of my body for some medical
experiments as well as a relief valve for the sexual tensions that resulted from
the stressful environment that those devoted men and women in white operated in.

	Recently I was admitted to my favorite hospital after a rather lengthy
sex orgy featuring yours truly, a pack of dogs and I believe it was two ponies
and a donkey. This in turn had been followed by a round-robin torture session
that included the removal of two finger nails and an equal number of toenails, I
presume in the interests of symmetry or fair play,  plus other assorted
treatments that left my breasts, buttocks and genitals covered with burns, cuts
and bruises. I was in a bad way and my personal physician,( she is the one who
schedules my treatments and payments for services rendered when I'm recovering )
suggested a rather radical approach that might allow me to begin to live a more
fulfilling life and retain my physical well-being for much longer periods before
I required rest, rehabilitation and therapy. Considering the sorry state in
which I found myself, the decision to proceed was easily made.

	"My dear Juliette, you have a good set of breasts despite all the abuse
they are subjected to. However with modern cosmetic surgery they could be
significantly enhanced in size, shape and firmness. You are prone to being
overweight, but your rather stressful activities seem to be keeping that
situation somewhat in check. However I would like you to begin taking an
appetite suppressing drug as well as  medication that will somewhat increase
your metabolic rate. You do have a tendency to also retain water, so I'm
prescribing a diuretic to take care of that little problem. Now there may be
side effects or even some adverse reactions between the drugs you will be
taking. Be advised that since we intend to have you as an in-patient for at
least a month, any difficulties you encounter will be speedily dealt with by my
staff."

	That 's about all I can recall from our first serious discussion about
turning this caterpillar into a butterfly. It certainly did sound appealing to
me, but I am accustomed to being used and abused by almost all those who cross
my path. I do believe it is in my nature to bring out the worst in all those I
interact with. Perhaps this is my intended purpose, who knows? I began to wonder
what kind of an agenda my physician had for me. It made me very curious in light
of all the kinky things she and her staff already did to and with me every time
I was admitted.

	In point of fact that first discussion occurred during a time when I was
holding a three quart enema of glycerin, double-boiled coffee including the
grounds, and a trace of some kind of paint remover that was added to give the
solution a little extra kick. I had a great deal of difficulty concentrating due
to the cramps and burning sensation that was washing over my lower intestines.
Naturally I was also in the standard hospital-issue strait jacket, my only
covering, and was somewhat distracted by the rather large vibrator that had been
plunged deep into my vagina, taped in place and turned to high. I remember nurse
Crocet informing me that the vibe had fresh batteries, the kind that last three
times longer than the normal type, and thus she would be able to devote more
time to my rehabilitation therapy now that she was relieved of the obligation to
change the batteries so frequently. I will cover the type of rehabilitation
therapy I was being given in a later portion of this little expose'.

	I have been repeatedly told that I am by far their most popular patient.
It has gotten to the point that the nurses draw lots to see who will have the
pleasure of my company. Some of the ladies of mercy are askance at my behavior
and do their best to make me see the error of my ways. This for instance was why
I was holding that rather nasty enema while my physician and I were discussing
my future. Others are only too happy to join in the fun when I arrive,
especially those who are of the lesbian persuasion. Believe me, it really takes
some doing to equal the pleasure that a knowledgeable, fast tongue can provide
to one as jaded as myself.

	My absolute favorite is a young woman who before taking up nursing had
taken her conditional vows  as a nun, I do believe it was the order of the
Sisters of Martyrdom. Unfortunately she began to suffer doubt, especially after
she was approached a number of times by members of the order who were most
interested in proposing relationships that semed rather bizarre to her. She
tells me that she is confident that she has found her true calling, and I am one
of those who is most thankful to have had the opportunity of enjoying her
company as she utilizes her unique gifts for calming my insecurities and
promoting a sense of well-being that I am told does enhance the healing process.
She is the main reason that I sometimes think it would be best if some way could
be found to keep me as a permanent patient in this wonderful place.

	However there is the other side of the coin to consider as well. I often
dwell on this version of reality as I'm being surreptitiously wheeled down the
long dark corridors in the wee hours of the morning, on my way to the men's wing
where I shall be the main source of sexual relief for perhaps a dozen or more
patients, all eager to use me in ways that are decidedly nontraditional. My
companion for these little trysts is usually one of the senior nurses who cannot
understand why hospital management allows me to remain a patient of this
institute of healing. Personally I do not take offense at this approach to
showing their displeasure; I rather enjoy showing off my darker side and do
appreciate the attentions that are paid to me by these patients, some of whom
are suffering from mental as well as physical problems. It is when I am working
with these unfortunates that I sometimes think I may have a  responsibility to a
higher power to properly channel this talent to more productive avenues.

	Getting back to my decision to allow myself to be in a sense reborn, my
physician arranged for me to take a battery of psychological tests to see if I
had the type of personality that could adapt to such a radical change in my
physical appearance. As she put it, "You will be moving in different circles,
meeting people who are decidedly of another, perhaps better, perhaps not, class.
Knowing your interests and needs as I do, you will still be gravitating towards
those most interested in harming you both physically as well as psychologically.
It is the latter damage that concerns me. We can always sew you up and have you
out and about thanks to the miracles of modern medicine, but damage to your
personality is not something that can be dealt with easily or expediently."

	To my way of looking at things, basically she was telling me that this
physical transformation would likely result in my meeting a better class of
rapists and sadists, but would probably not  result in me seeing anyone new when
it came to personality type. On the other hand "better" has a variety of
definitions. If I had a choice between being raped in an alley surrounded by
winos or taking it up the ass against my will (not likely), on silk sheets, I'd
likely choose the latter, just because I'd never experienced rape under those
particular circumstances. It would be a welcome change from my current humdrum
existence.

	Being suspicious of anyone who offers to improve my lot in life without
taking advantage of me, I inquired as to what my physician expected me to
provide in exchange for her gracious offer to change my perspective and allow me
access to a better class of people. I caught her a bit off guard I fear. She
looked slightly distressed at my question, and there was a lengthy pause before
she answered. I knew her mind was racing to come up with the correct response
that would calm my fears and allow her to go forward with this daring plan.

	"Well, first and foremost will be the feeling of satisfaction that comes
from helping a person like yourself grow and change. If we are successful, I
will be recognized professionally which may ultimately lead to a better position
in the medical community. Finally I will at last have an opportunity to have you
completely under my control, briefly as it might be. I know that makes me sound
selfish, so be it. I am also made of flesh and blood and have my own inner
needs. You may be the one that can satisfy some of my darker urges."

	At that point my physician's face took on a rather pale look and her
hands moved back and forth over each other, almost as if she were wringing them.
Now the truth be told, she too was as imperfect a creation as I; that made me
most comfortable with the arrangement and I nodded my head at her answer as I
said, "Then let's proceed. I am placing myself in your capable hands; do with me
what you wish, for the near term I am your slave." I thought my dear friend was
about to wet her panties in joy and relief.


				( To be continued)

				Juliette the Super Tramp


				        Chapter 6


	The moment I had put myself into my physician's hands things changed
dramatically. My long journey of self-exploration and realization had begun. It
would prove to be an arduous trek, one lasting for years. Whether I made the
proper choice is moot, the die had been cast. Since it would take a day or so
for my doctor to make the necessary arrangements for my transfer to another wing
of the hospital, she decided that I should continue my normal routine. The way
her eyes twinkled when she said that indicated to me that she was quite well
aware of the shenanigans involving me that took place in the dead of night.

	The events of that evening told me that news travels fast in the
hospital. Nurse Crocet informed me that she would be filling in for the regular
nurse on the late evening shift. I wondered if she knew of the arrangement that
had been made for me to be regularly transferred sub rosa to the men's wing of
the hospital as a method of boosting patient morale. Time would tell, but I had
my suspicions that I'd be making the trip as usual and nurse Crocet would be
wheeling me over there personally.

	I received the substitute nurse, a Ms Likre, pronounced "licker", who
certainly lived up to her name and then some. Naturally there was very little I
could do to prevent what occurred over the next eight hours, not that I objected
to most of it. Here I was in my hospital issued strait jacket, neck held fast in
a tight fitting leather collar that was linked to the top of my bed by a very
short length of chain as per hospital policy with nothing between my exposed
pubes and my new playmate but a few feet of thin air. I had never had the
pleasure of actually enjoying Ms Likre's talented tongue, but her reputation had
proceeded her.  I quickly realized this was no coincidence; as usual the
grapevine had already spread the news that yours truly was about to depart for
greener pastures. This was the first of a plethora of going-away parties that I
attended.

	My angel of mercy wasted no time getting down to business. She proved to
be most fastidious and had come well prepared. I was treated to the sight of Ms
Likre's underwear as she removed her uniform and carefully hung it on the hook
of the door. Her kit was most enticing; white hose fastened to a white
embroidered garter belt by no less than six suspenders each. She wore bikini
panties,the type that barely hugged her rounded hips and had a transparent
crotch through which peaked a pink lipped, smooth, plump pudenda which I would
become most familiar with during the many hours we spent together as she forced
incredible amounts of various fluids from my often willing and sometimes
unwilling body.

	Her bra was fighting a losing battle to contain her massive breasts;
they must have been at least 40 DDs. Once freed of the relatively flimsy cups,
they stood proudly in their full, shapely glory. I would spend many happy
moments reverting to my childhood as she allowed me to suckle those magnificent,
bottomless milk bottles. She approached my bed and put one magnificent limb onto
the rather damp and smelly mattress on which I lay, my eyes fastened hungrily on
that delicious crotch, perhaps three of my tongue lengths away. Despite this
obstacle, I did my best  to extend my tongue to well beyond its limits so that
she knew what my intentions were if she allowed that gorgeous hunk of cunt to
get within my range.

	My nurse took her own sweet time unhooking the twelve suspenders and
then carefully rolling those white hose down the tapering columns of flesh that
were her legs. Ms Likre put her thumbs inside the top of her bikinis and then
paused, leaving me hanging, her eyes dancing with impish mischief that belied
her age and position. She so reminded me of those wonderful creatures in the
upper forms who tormented me with their beauty and hautiness; I being a mere
duckling, and an ugly one to boot. She unveiled her treasure slowly, her lips
pursing, teasing and tantalizing me to my limit and beyond. I could smell my
juices as they began oozing from my cunt, which as usual was betraying me to my
mistress to be.

	It was at this juncture that I noticed the merest imperfection in Ms
Likre's skin, some very faint spidery lines lurking beneath that alabaster
patina covering her flesh. My concentration was utterly devastated by the
appearance of that fat, pink-lipped cunt being slowly displayed as the skimpy
fabric of those white bikinis slid down her legs. I then proceeded to act like
an idiot and was made to suffer for my breach of manners. "You have recently
delivered a child, how novel." Whatever possessed me to use such inane language
was a great mystery. This goddess, who now stood naked, except for her garter
belt, before me, had a look on her perfect features that was a cross between one
coping with the cheekiest example of poor upbringing while at the same time
being amused by my sheer boorishness. I felt small, quite small.

	"Hush now, we will have to sort out the matter of your rather bad
behavior after I have given you a thorough examination to determine the state of
your health. Perhaps your outburst was not intentional, but rather the result of
some minor illness that has affected your wits to a degree." Her gentle
rejoinder made me instantly fall in mad, hopeless unattainable love wth her.
There and then I swore an oath that I would be the best patient she ever tended
to in her entire professional career. Talk about cheek, I was the whole ass, a
fact which she soon uncovered.

	She leaned over and placed the back of her cool hand across my forehead
and a slight frown crossed her face. She mumbled something to herself and
continued, dragging down the folds of skin beneath my eyes to check their color
and clarity. I was then ordered to open and say ahhh. It came out with a tremolo
effect due to the urges that were raging but a millimeter or less below my skin.
The tips of her fingers touched my throat to check my pulse and I could feel the
flow of cunt juice coming from me increase dramatically. From the expression on
her face she was as aware of the state of my libido as I was, but she pressed
on, examining my ears. I wasn't familiar wth the technique she was employing.
The last time a woman had blown softly into my ear I had a monsterous orgasm.
From the look on nurse Likre's face she was a bit disappointed in my lack of
ardor. That in itself told me that the jig was up so to speak. My notoriety was
no secret from the hospital staff. I was determined to make amends if given any
opportunity at all.

	Nurse Likre made some unhappy sounds as she tugged at the chain fixing
my collar to the bed. They got even louder and a bit salty when she was
confronted by the two small padlocks that guaranteed my strait jacket would
remain inviolate unless the person attempting to remove it possessed the key.
"To think that the  hospital adminstration has such little faith in the
integrity of its nursing staff. What would happen in the event of some
catastrophe such as a fire? What assurance would I have that the head nurse
would be at her station in such a situation? If not, then what would one do?" 

	I picked this point to make a complete ass of myself with a very poor
joke having to do with kissing one's bottom "ta-ta", a situation that would be a
challenge for a skilled contortionist, let along someone restrained in a strait
jacket. My attempt at humor fell flat and my angel of mercy puffed out her
cheeks and gave me a look that spoke volumes. "First you act as if my delivering
a child into this world was something not expected of a person such as myself.
Now you make light of my sincere concern for your well being. I am greatly vexed
by your behavior and do not know what to do with such a decidedly uncooperative
patient as you seem to be."

	I did my best to act contrite, but was somewhat limited by my position.
All I could do was to bring my legs up close to my body and then spread them
wide in much the same way that a dog acknowledges another dog's primacy. My
little display did catch her eye and she came closer to stare into my vagina, at
least that's what I initially thought she was doing. A malicious smile came to
her lips as she observed that I was catheterized. "How long has it been since
you were drained?" Ms Likre asked in her nurse's voice, now all business. "I see
by your file that you are taking some rather large doses of a very powerful
diuretic." Her observations triggered off a sympathetic response from my rather
distended bladder that I had managed to avoid thinking about while my angel of
mercy was mesmerizing me.

	My response produced a look of surprise. "You think it's been around
four hours? That's positively barbaric. Why didn't the nurse attending to you
drain your bladder hours ago? This is a very serious breach of conduct."It was
my turn to feel a bit more embarrassed as I had to confess that normally nurse
Bellamy had been using me as her personal toilet whenever she felt the need to
go to the loo. Today for some odd reason she was more cranky than normal and
decided my attitude needed to be adjusted. Therefore she decided to teach me a
lesson by not allowing my bladder to drain even though she was urinating more
frequently than normal.

	" I'll have to do something about that immediately." my nurse said,
searching around for a bedpan. I suggested that she might find a capture bottle
beneath my bed. In less time than it takes to tell, the clip on my catheter was
opened and a bright yellow stream of my well aged pee began draining into the
container. At that point I was quite willing to do anything that nurse Likre
asked of me. I soon discovered that my euphoria was misplaced. Nurse Likre was a
cruel mistress, and I was to suffer her wrath in a very short time.

	The capture bottle held just a little less than half a litre by the time
the last drop had dripped from me. Nurse Likre held it up to the light and
swished it around to check for signs of solids and to guage its clarity. "I
think this needs to be recycled once more, don't you?" she said with a huge,
nasty grin pasted on her face which was rapidly transforming itself from the
coutenance of an angel to the face of an imp from hell. I sighed and opened my
mouth as she brought the bottle to my lips. "Now just drink this down
slowly,don't gulp it whatever you do." She sounded like my dear old mum when she
had to give me a dose of medicine for whatever was ailing me at the time.


				( To be continued)

					Juliette the Super Tramp


					        Chapter 7


	I dutifully chugged down the acrid pee that now would once again be
cycled through my kidneys and ultimately wind up in my bladder. Hopefully this
time it would eventually reach the hospital sewer system without additional
detours through yours truly. This nasty task accomplished, I awaited further
instructions from my nurse. "Now something to cleanse the palate shall we say."
As she spoke, Ms Likre's fantastic round bottom began to descend onto my face. I
inhaled her scent and found it quite pleasing; earthy with just a hint of
raspberries, which I found to be most odd. It stopped mere inches from my
straining tongue and then her delicate hands appeared, and began to pull those
luscious cheeks apart to make access to her chocolate starfish a snap. Moments
later I made contact and began my preliminary exploration of this virgin
territory.

	Although I took pride in my sordid past, my experience performing
analingus on women was woefully deficient. I decided to take full advantage of
this opportunity to develop a new skill, and so I took to this challenge with a
great deal of enthusiam despite my ignorance. Ms Likre proved to be a most
patient and very understanding teacher once she recognized my sincere effort to
return to her good graces. The imp once more became an angel and as for me, I
was approaching nirvana as her arse moved subtley to present various avenues for
my tongue and lips to travel.

	As I licked and lapped my way across her rounded bottom, sampling her
flesh as often as she  would permit, I thought back to the times I'd been in
this position except it was a man's hairy and usually unwashed bum that was
presented, nay, thrust into my face. The act was always part of a greater
activity, a gang rape of my arse, a sound thrashing with whatever implement was
handy, be it wood, rubber or leather, or even the application of electricity or
perhaps a lit cigar or cigarette to the more tender portions of my anatomy. In
comparison to what was taking place on my foul smelling pallet, this was
heavenly.

	My mentor made some subtle shifts in how she presented her hindquarters
to my busy tongue and lips, announcing a new direction for my efforts. My tongue
worked its way up between her cheeks and she signaled that a slower approach to
her winking brown eye was in order. I happily complied, improvising somewhat as
I slipped my tongue further up her utterly hairless crevice. I mentally berated
myself for allowing my personal hygiene to suffer some during my confinement. In
contrast to her pristine condition, I was a jungle of unruly hair, growing
wildly into any space that was available. I made a vow to rectify this situation
as quickly as permitted by my handlers, whoever and wherever they and I might
be.

	At last I reached the holy grail, if you'll pardon the very bad pun, and
set about worshipping it with every fiber of my being. I kissed it over and over
almost as if I was chanting a mantra. A slight movement signaled that more than
my lips were anticipated. My tongue wormed from my mouth and began probing that
moist entryway. To my utter amazement, it began to give way and flower, allowing
the tip of my tongue to begin burrowing upwards. Emboldened, I sought to work
more and more of my little snake inside that warm tunnel. Then I felt this
indescribable feeling begin to radiate from my clitoris.

	It took me some time to realize that nurse Likre's tongue was pierced
and perhaps more than one stud had been embedded within it. The sensation was
like nothing I had ever experienced. At best my clit, or hot button as it had
been described by those who tormented it for their own selfish pleasure,  had
received rough treatment intended to make me responsive. Now it was being gently
manipulated and teased to bring it to full flower so it could be properly
stimulated to bring me pleasure. I responded by soaking the portion of the
mattress beneath my outspread thighs, not to mention flooding my nurse's mouth
and face with my spendings that were considerable. She quickly broke contact wth
me and I was even deprived of that moist passageway into her body. Feelings of
despair lanced through me as I feared that my behavior had destroyed all chances
for there to be anything positive between me and my angel of mercy.

	"Oh my god! You're a squirter!" Ms Likre exclaimed once she recovered
her composure. Having rarely been given the opportunity to have a satisfactory
orgasm, this came as news to me. I tried to recall the last time I came
willingly, but it was but a dim memory in the far distant past. I did not know
at present whether this new capability was an asset or a debit in the ledger of
my existence. The kiss she planted upon my poor shriveled clit gave me the
answer I was seeking and brought me very close to swooning from the combination
of relief and gratitude that flowed through me.

	For the next hour or was it two or three, I certainly didn't bother
counting, my playmate had her way with me. To be honest I was almost as
intrigued by my capabilities as she was. I squirted to the left and squirted to
the right. I squirted up into the air and into her face. I don't know how I did
what I did, but who cared? One time she even managed to arrange my body so when
I gushed I had the opportunity of tasting, smelling and feeling what it was that
was being ejaculated by my glands everytime my nurse found the secret spot and
toyed wth it for what seemed like seconds, but in truth was more like minutes.

	Ms Likre was one greedy lady. Even the one blast that was self inflicted
did not belong to me; she quickly commendeered the area and licked it clean,
smacking her lips as she did. To her credit, she did give me a long and very
juicy kiss afterwards and we managed to swap a few drops of my precious essence,
as she described my spendings. Finally the well ran dry and it was a relief to
be able to rest for a while. Having as many orgasms as I did and expending as
much energy to produce them left me limp. My playmate acted somewhat contrite at
her selfishness, but I knew it to be facade, especially after hearing her
observe that I'd probably be ready for another round in perhaps as little as
twenty minutes.

	My biggest problem at the moment was the condition of my bed,
specifically my thoroughly soaked mattress. Although the smell was more an aroma
than an odor, it still felt clammy and decidedly cool to the touch. My angel of
mercy seemed to enjoy wallowing in the residue of my offerings, which was a
great shock to me. Normally I played the role of the pig in any sexual romp;
this was a new experience for me. Nurse Likre assured me that well before the
next shift came on my bedding would be replaced with material that was fresh and
dry. How she intended to bring about this miracle was beyond my ken, but for the
moment I could do little but trust her to deliver on her promise.

	I was now introduced to the concept of pillow talk, something alien to
my way of having sex. In my life, when the sex was over, it was usually because
I was unconscious from exhaustion and the pain that was always associated with
the process. If I was still in control of my senses I'd be turned over to
another pervert or group of perverts who would use me as an outlet for their
sick fantasies until I was no longer able to function even as a fuck pig and
pain slut. In the rare case that no one else was interested in using and abusing
me, I'd be left alone in total isolation until my next scheduled group of fuck
buddies would descend upon me. So  you can imagine my confusion as I lay in what
seemed like a pool of my own spendings enjoying that afterglow that is so unique
after one has just had a dozen or was it dozens of very satisfying orgasms.

	My nurse,now also my lover, began our little tete-a-tete by chiding me
concerning my boorish behavior when I realized that she had been wth child.
"Just because I'm attracted to women as well as men doesn't mean I'm averse to
those uges that most women have concerning procreation.You seem not to be able
to accept all the responsibilities and joys that are associated with being with
a man." At that last remark I took a great deal of exception. I did not go into
the type of detail I was capable when it came to my previous relationships with
members of the opposite gender, but I did make the point that when it came to
orgasms, all of mine prior to this awesome afternoon had either been self
induced via foreign implements or forced by various manipulations of my genitals
by mostly men who were merely interested in demonstrating their power over my
body. My companion was silent for a time, then launched into a brief description
of what it meant to be bisexual and married to a very undersanding male.

	"In my case being bisexual had been an immense help to making my
marriage a continually exciting adventure for both myself and my husband. Once I
had revealed my broad tastes when it came to sexual partners, my husband-to-be
made me promise only one thing, which at first I found to be rather intrusive,
but after putting it into practice I discovered it was a boon to our
relationship. His only condition to allowing me to continue to have
relationships with other women were that he be introduced to them so he could
determine if they might be interested in having him join the relationship. To my
utter amazement it turned out that over half of my lovers were most favorable to
his suggestion that he be allowed to join us when it was suitable."

	"Perhaps this should not have come as such a great surprise; after all I
was bisexual and most attracted to him. More than half of my female partners
were decidedly bisexual and another substantial portion were rather ambivalent
about their sexuality. Why then shouldn't quite a number of these women also be
interested in a man who I definitely was drawn to as well? Within a year of
making this pact it was rare when I had an exclusive lesbian relationship. He
claimed that during these specific  liaisons our sex life grew much more intense
and I became more aggressive, perhaps to compensate for my lover not being able
to enjoy him as well. When we were married, my maid of honor and two other
female members of my wedding party had already been with us both. To make it
even more of an adventure, my current female lover joined us for a few days on
our honeymoon and we had the most marvelous time of it draining the poor man to
the point that he could barely make it out to the pool to rest from his labors
of trying to satisfy two very horny women who had nothing better to do with
their time than take turns seducing the poor dear and each other."

	I was speechless by now. Then my stomach intruded with a series of loud
grumbles that brought a lilting laugh from my lover. It dawned on me that I
hadn't been fed since last evening. I'd been so busy enjoying myself that I
hadn't noticed. My nurse was quick to inform me that according to my doctor's
orders I was not to have anything except liquids until further notice.I hoped
that at least the liquid I would be taking was not the recycled type, but I
could already see from Ms Likre's face that even this hope was not to be. The
mischievous pixie in her rose to the surface once again, this time much less
foreboding I had to admit. "There is nothing in the order that forbids you from
samplng your own spendings, which as I can attest are considerable and quite
tasty I might add. Would you like me to milk you?" Even before I could give my
permission, her knowing fingers were tripping over my pebbled flesh on their way
to producing another gusher from this unquenchable source located deep within
me.


				( To be continued )

				Juliette the Super Tramp


				        Chapter 8


	My beautiful lover got busy on me and within a matter of minutes I was
emptying my heart, soul and Bartholin's glands into her waiting hand. The brief
rest had done the trick and my powers were completely restored according to what
she collected in her knowing hand. She held her glistening palm before my face
and smiled as my tongue flicked out and began removing the sweet-salty fluid.
She smiled and fed me every finger, making sure that I left them clean of any
evidence. I did so enjoy getting my tongue between her digits, which she would
playfully close in a half-hearted attempt to capture. Once I finished suctioning
the last remnants from her wrist, she resumed her excavation and was quickly
rewarded with another eruption of my magic source.

	She teased me this time, waving her hand just out of reach of my tongue
and asking if I wanted to share the treasure she had just found. I was in no
position to bargain effectively, and quickly agreed to let her take the first
turn at enjoying the fruits of her labor, since I was obviously primed for any
number of spendings based on what had just transpired. We quickly polished off
my second offering and took a break for a deep, moist kiss and an exchange of
tongues that left us breathless. "Perhaps you might enjoy a little change of
pace. Why don't you sample what I have to offer. I realize it cannot possibly
match yours for quantity, but perhaps you might be intrigued by its tart yet
fruity taste and smooth finish." I was eager to take up my loving companion's
offer and so she maneuvered herself so that fragrant pink fleshed clam was
easily within reach and allowed me to sample her wares.

	I must confess that I made a pig of myself, displaying my bad manners as
I grunted and snorted while mining the contents of her warm, wet tunnel. It took
some attention to begin to make her flow, but once she started, it required
little effort to continue making her deliver a juice that lived up to her
glowing description. When I finally came up for air and inadvertently used her
pubic mound to wipe my mouth and chin of her juices, she gave me a bright smile
and arched her eyebrow as if asking whether she had lived up to expectations. I
planted a wet kiss on her clitoral hood to acknowledge my enjoyment of this very
special repast. Her hands took hold of my hair and used the grip to make my face
move over her pubes. I quickly understood her need and used my tongue, lips and
mouth to bathe her skin with my saliva and then suck it off before moving to
another region. It was while I was running my tongue up between her blood
engorged labia that she had a powerful orgasm that made her body grow stiff and
then tremble like a tree's leaves in the midst of a wind storm. I cannot
remember ever being so happy as at this moment.

	"It's a shame that we cannot have another meeting for some time. I would
love to introduce you to Jeff, my dear husband. I'm sure you and he would hit it
off quite well, in more ways than one. He can be most forceful with the right
partner." I had a mental picture in my head. I was prone on a large bed, my
wrists and ankles tightly tied to the corners. My head was between Ms Likre's
spread thighs and as I suctioned the huge load of hot cum that her husband had
just finished pumping into her, he was laying the leather to my bottom and
cursing me for the home wrecker that I truly wanted to be so that he would whip
me even harder.

	The realization that this might never be dismayed me no end. Evidently I
was soon going to be moved to where they intended to rebuild my body. Pain slut
that I am, I wondered how much pain that would entail. I hoped that many of the
surgeries would take place while I was securely restrained but neither sedated
nor given any form of pain suppressing drugs. Nurse Likre could see that my mind
was wandering, and so she did something to bring me back to reality. " I want
you to trust me as I get you ready for something a bit out of the ordinary. Have
faith, what you will experiece will delight you if I know anything of your
personality. Then afterwards I will give you a special reward for being so
obedient and giving yourself up to my whims."

	I surrendered myself to her and she set about attaching my ankles to the
top of the bed frame, putting me into a position where my cleft was now easily
accessible and my vulva spread wide. It was a configuration with which I had
some familiarity. Generally it meant my sex would be tortured in some way or
another. I recalled whippings with crops, lengths of rubber hose and even once
being caned until I passed out from the pain overload, a rare event for a person
of my inclinations. I remembered the one occasion when some pervert rubbed my
vulva with flash powder and then set me afire. The act was much more frightening
than the outcome, which was merely some superficial burns that were healed
within a week.

	My nurse had other ideas, plans that did entail some degree of pain,
which was good as far as I was concerned, but also yielded the most intense
orgasm I had experienced to date, which was very, very good. The collar holding
my head in a fixed position made it difficult for me to observe exactly what was
taking place. I could feel her fingers moving gently over my blood filled cunt
lips and then pressing into the cevice between them. I heard her laugh as she
probed my soaking wet entryway. "Oh Juliette, what a slut you truly are. You are
utterly, sopping wet and I haven't even started! What am I to do with such a
creature as you?" I sincerely prayed that whatever it was would cause me the
utmost pleasure mixed with a goodly amount of pain. I was to get my wish.

	My nurse's fingers began to worm their way inside of me, one digit at a
time. She took her own sweet time massaging my fat cunt lips with the palm of
one hand while the fingers of the other soon settled into the mouth of my cunt,
except for her thumb which hovered at the entrance, but made no serious attempt
to penetrate. Then I felt her other thumb insinuating itself into my bum hole. I
tried to relax my sphincter to make it easy for it to enter, but she seemed
satisfied to keep the initial purchase she'd made. Then I felt strong pressure
at the mouth of my cunt as her other thumb made its entry. I knew at this moment
that I was going to be fisted.

	The pain slut in me went ballistic; I could hardly wait for that feeling
of fullness all along my soaking wet channel as her fist made its march deeper
and deeper into me, headed for my cervix where the fun would really begin. I've
been fisted by both women and men. Once I even endured the efforts of a trained
chimp who nearly ruptured my uterus with its mindless attack. In all cases the
intent was to hurt me as much as possible. Women, being more knowledgeable about
their inner workings, knew a lot more about what hurt and what really hurt. Men
just seemed to be in it for the sport of seeing how fast they could enter and
ultimately how deep they could penetrate.

	Most men became too frustrated and impatient to do the little things
that would soon have my defenses reduced so I'd be open to maximum pain. Women
were by far more successful when it came to dealing out the pain that was
associated with a good thorough fisting that always included plenty of punching
once they got to the target, which was the cervix. I've had experts punch my
cervix like it was one of those speed bags boxers practice on to develop good
eye-hand coordination. I would hurt for days after one of those experts was done
turning my insides to mush, or something that felt like its equivalent.

	Her fingers soon closed into a fist and I felt that initial feeling of
fullness as her hand clenched and stretched my tunnel to accommodate it. I
waited impatiently for that lump of bone and flesh to begin pushing forward on
its way towards my birthing chamber. Nurse Likre went very slowly, which
frustrated me no end. Where was that delicious sensation of pain? Why was she
teasing me this way? I tried to move my hips to encourage her to get a move on,
but she went at her own snail-like pace, moving a millimeter at a time as I
huffed and puffed more to encourage her than anything else. "Am I hurting you?"
she asked solicitously. I was on the verge of losing my temper and my answer
showed it. It also made her just a bit angry. "So my little freak, you want me
to hurt you, so I shall!" I nearly came when she put some muscle behind that
fist and plowed forward. My grunt seemed to spur her to greater effort.

	That thumb locked in my butt hole dug viciously into the tender
membranes and her fist sped up its pace and began to move from side to side in a
rocking motion that made me begin to feel nauseous. It was all coming back ,that
delicious pain radiated from my cunt walls to my brain, tickling it in all those
crannies that harbored my secret lusts. By now my cunt must have swallowed at
least half her forearm. Most women would hit bottom, so to speak, just about at
the elbow. I had a ways to go before the pain got really good. I urged her on
with a few more insults concerning her ability to fist me properly. Suddenly she
yanked her arm back and then out popped her fist with a loud liquid popping
sound. I thought the top of my head was about to come off. What had she done?
How could she do such a terrible thing to me? I was devastated!

	It didn't take me very long to realize that I had committed another
serious breach of protocol, one that I would have to pay dearly for. Ms Likre
got up from the mattress and I could now clearly see that her hand and half her
forearm were coated with my goo. She held it up and said "This was going to be
for you. I would have let you lick every bit from my hand and arm. Now I'm not
in the mood for feeding someone as cheeky and greedy as you. Do you have
suitable penance which you might suggest or shall I clean this mess from myself
and see if I can find someone to substitute for me until your next nurse
arrives?"

	I have no idea what possessed me to suggest that she try to fist my butt
hole. I had endured a number of attempts by women to do the deed, but none had
succeeded. It was one of those rare events where the amount of pain that was
generated by this activity exceeded my enjoyment. To me it was a stroke of
genius but to my auburn  haired nurse who was on the verge of banishing me into
the darkness of despair, it may have come across as just another example of my
crassness. "I am willing to take into consideration this offer,but not
immediately " Her reply both thrilled and perplexed me. Why the delay? What
would happen in the interim?I received a partial answer as she approached my
pallet, nearly soaked through from all the juice that had been wrung from my
body. She got on the mattress, turned and held her cheeks apart, then settled
back and pressed her butthole to my mouth for a proper tonguing, the great
majority of her weight now supported by my rather contorted body.

	I did my all to make amends, my tongue probing as deep into her hole as
it could. My lips kissed and my mouth suctioned greedily in hopes of getting
something of substance from her bowels, the ultimate penance as far as I was
concerned. I was thwarted at every turn, but pressed on with my quest. After a
time she adjusted her body so my efforts could be concentrated on her cunt,
which I devoured like a starving person who had been fasting for weeks. Her
juices began to ooze forth , encouraging me to further efforts. I felt as if
there might be a chance for me to acually bring her off, but all that was
snuffed out by a knock at the door. I stiffened in fear, thinking the worse. Ms
Likre called out for the person on the other side to give some identification
before she would open the door and allow that person entrance. I waited
breathlessly for an answer.


				( To be continued)

					Juliette the Super Tramp


					      Chapter 9


	"It's me, Dimples." A voice replied.

	A big smile crossed nurse Likre's face. "They're here, how nice, now let
the fun really begin!" With these words she hopped from the bed leaving me to
fret about the visitors. I could not help feeling left hanging as those
twitching cheeks that had been positioned so nicely for my tongue and lips to
service moved away from me towards the door. Who was on the other side, friend
or foe? In my imagination the best answer would be a friendly fiend, happy to
make my acquaintance and eager to hear me scream and beg for more pain as she
tortured the most vulnerable portion of my body with a knowing smile.

	Nurse Likre open the door a crack and in the blink of an eye these two
little bundles of blonde loveliness scooted across my field of vision, nearly
blinding me with their cuteness. They stood no more than 1.5 metres and weighed
a bit more than 40 kilos. They were clad in bluish periwinkle uniforms different
in cut and color than those worn by the staff nurses. It was obvious from their
features that they had to be identical twins. "If one be Dimples, what pray tell
might the other be named?" I thought to myself. Nurse Likre made the
introductions, presenting Dimples and Dumpling, yes, Dumpling!

	For the moment I was enchanted. Then the twin hoydens homed in on me
like guided missiles, ignoring Ms Likre's attempt to give them my name or
anything else she may have thought appropriate to tell them about me. I was
naive enough to confuse their appearance with their temperment, thinking that
the Fates had at last provided me with a wonderful windfall. To my way of
thinking this was a sign from the heavens that we three were fated to meet and
join in an unbreakable trinity. I could not have been further from the truth.

	All this flashed through my mind in an instant, just before one of these
imps from hell opened her mouth to reveal teeth that appeared to be filed to
razor sharp fangs as she screeched, "How gross, this creature has hair all over
her crotch. That's disgusting, we'll just have to do something about that
straight away! Marla, can we pluck her clean while we take turns having her eat
our cunts to get us off?"  My ears pricked up immediately upon hearing this
charming creature offer to furnish me with pain, a sensation I dearly sought at
all times.

	I thought for a moment that my hopes would be dashed as Marla, no longer
Ms Likre, but Marla informed the girls that there would not be enough time
available for her to do all the things she wanted as well as what they wished to
accomplish too. My world brightened considerably when one of them, I believe
Dumpling, announced that nurse Crocet would be two hours late. Marla broke into
a smile and replied that under those circumstances perhaps all of them could
accomplish their objectives before the arrival of her replacement.

	"While you two introduce yourselves to my patient, I'll nip on down to
Maintenance and show old Mr Watson my underpants. That always puts him in a good
mood and I do so need him to arrange for a change of bedding here before nurse
Crocet appears on scene." The twin demi-goddesses immediately began pulling
their nurse's uniforms off, revealing bodies that were sleek as seals, while I
waited impatiently for the fun to begin. The last thing I saw before Dumpling
glued her gorgeous pussy to my face was nurse Likre smoothing her uniform,
making sure it was properly hanging from the curves that caused almost all men
to stop what they were doing and try to unlock the passageway to the world that
she occupied.

	I inhaled the fragrance from this hoyden's moist young quim, a potpourri
of scents, aromas, odors and even stinks, stuck my tongue out to its maximum
length and began giving the youthful strumpet the tongue fucking of her young
life as she gasped and shook from the sudden and ferocious assault I delivered.
I completed my dominance of this lithe lovely by nipping the thin lips of her
cunny and working rapidly up her narrow trench to reach the hooded clit which I
worried like a terrier shaking a rat. Poor little Dumpling nearly fainted away
at my panzer attack that overwhelmed her meager defenses.

	Meanwhile her sister, Dimples, was making significant inroads into my
pubic hair with the help of  tweezers that seemed designed to remove fur from
large animals. The pain that this crude instrument produced lacked style but
proved to be most effective in generating a high degree of physical discomfort.
She was removing chunks of hair as well as substantial amounts of skin from my
rather sensitive vulva. This in turn was acting as a trigger for my efforts to
turn Dumpling's cunt into a piece of raw bloody meat. In truth this was a case
of quid pro quo and the devil take the hindmost.

	As I continued to push the little demon towards what I hoped would be
the first of many orgasms this day, her sister moved away from my fat lipped
cunt and began exploring the terrain in that delicate region between my gaping
cunt and tight asshole. Here the density of offending hairs was much lower, but
the pain associated with removing only a small fraction of them as compared to
what she had been accomplishing prior yielded a much higher dose of what I
craved, something to be treasured, but respected as well. As the jolts of pain
filtered through my consciousness, tickling all those special spots in my mental
makeup, I continued to stimulate that juicy quim that was being rubbed
enthusiasically up and down my face, coating it with the girl's aromatic
secretions.

	Things began to get a bit dicey when Dumpling started to fret about my
inability to bring her off and took appropriate action to elevate my efforts.
This was accomplished by grabbing fistfuls of my hair and using them as reins to
force my face even deeper into her still developing pussy, effectively
eliminating my ability to draw breath. Soon this overtook my enjoyment of the
pain being produced by her sibling who was busily mining my most sensitive area
with little care for the long term damage she was creating. By now I was on the
verge of panic, imagining myself being suffocated to death by the immature cunt
of this little demon, which would be as absurd a way to depart this mortal coil
as I could imagine.

	It was then that I decided that the best defense was a good offensive,
an expression I recalled from one of my paramours, such as they were, who at the
time was turning my cunt into a chunk of bleeding meat with a length of barbed
wire, a most delightful way to prepare for plastic surgery. I resolved to apply
his teaching to my present situation. I stopped nibbling on this imp's rubbery
flesh and instead went at her tender twat with full force, biting down as hard
as I could as she shreiked in a combination of surprise and terror at this
brutal attack on her most intimate area. I chewed my way up to her clit despite
her frantic efforts to pull me off her cunt. It was touch and go for a moment
but I had the advantage, feeling much more threatened at the moment than she
did.

	I was so busy fending off this little blonde bitch that I forgot about
her equally vicious sister, who now entered the lists. Suddenly I was treated to
a wonderful burst of intense pain as the little demon sank her fangs into my
most vulnerable cunt, nearly removing a portion of one outer lip as well as
breaking the skin in its vicinity. I was almost completely helpless since my
ankles were effectively pinned behind my ears and I had no way to generate any
leverage to throw these devils from my crotch area.  My response was to bite
harder into her sister's flesh and try to separate some of it from her body. She
in turn began striking me on the top of my head with her little fists which did
no damage, but distracted me long enough for her to remove her precious pussy
from my jaws. I was now at their mercy and they took full advantage.

	The only functional weapon that remained in my arsenal was my teeth, and
they concentrated on neutralizing them so they would then be able to do with me
what they would. Their approach was crude, but effective. One of them kicked me
squarely in the cunt producing enough stimulation that I actually squirted a
little juice in her direction. She jumped back from this unexpected response and
fell onto the bed as her sister giggled at her discomfort. Then this damnable
beast of a child grabbed one of my feet and sank her fangs into the arch causing
me excruciating pain initially and then a blissful feeling as those circuits
leading to my brain were stimulated quite nicely. Now the other one, Dimples,
regained her footing and gave my puss another swift kick that landed squarely
and brought a much more copious discharge from my inner organs that were the
source. It was while I was enjoying my mini-orgasm that Dumpling jammed a wad of
guaze into my mouth and held her hand over it to prevent me from spitting it
out. Dimples finished the job by taping my mouth shut with some adhesive she
found in the room. I was effectively neutralized, and at their mercy.

	Between that time and when Marla returned from her errand, I was
mistreatd to a fare thee well by those two imps from hell. Dimples thought it
was the height of humor to pinch my nostrils shut and watch my face turn from
pink to red to blue as I stuggled mightily to escape the iron grip of this
terror, only to finally surrender as my air ran out and I drifted off into
darkness. Dumpling concentrated on the job of removing all the pubic hair she
could find, including those outposts that had been established in the area of my
rectal opening. I was most frustrated by her efforts, since she never did
anything long enough to really let me build up a good head of steam. She was
just a frustrating little fussbudget when it came to delivering the goods for
this masochist.

	Dimples got bored with watching me turn blue and focused her attention
on my vulnerable vagina. I could not believe what this demon was attempting to
do, but indeed her objective was to insert as much of her arm as she was able up
into my love canal as one of my former abusers described my cunt. It turned out
that the "love canal" he was referring to was a very polluted place located in
one of our former colonies, which he thought was very much akin to my rancid
cunt that at the time was oozing a mixture of pus and blood, the result of a
very exhausting, but most enjoyable session of pussy punishment.

	The little blonde she-devil easily got her entire hand into my twat and
then made a fist. Having been fisted by adults, including some rather large
males, her initial foray did not cause me any concern or pain either, which was
most disappointing. She flexed her arm and pushed forward with her face
reflecting the fierce determination on her part to make this journey in as quick
a fashion as she could. I began to realize that I may have misjudged the
ferocity of this evil little being. It appeared that she may have had previous
experience in what she was attempting to do to me. My fears were confirmed when
she came to a halt about three inches from where she began and started moving
her fist from side to side to widen my channel just enough to allow further
progress to be made.

	I grew extremely nervous when I realized her little fist was scant
inches from that magic spot over which I had no control. I could only imagine
what her reaction would be to having her hand and part of her arm coated wth my
spendings. Less than a minute later her fist rubbed that super sensitive pad of
nerves and away I went, spurting a stream of  pale cream colored fluid out from
the narrow spaces between her arm and my bulging cunt. Dimples screamed with
glee as she watched the display her arm was creating. The air around us was
positively shimmering from the reflection of light from the tiny particles of
liquid that had been propelled from my twitching twat. Dumpling clapped her
hands and screamed at the top of her lungs, "Thar she blows! We have a gusher of
goo!" It was obvious to me that at least one of these terrible toy girls knew
what squirting was all about. I wondered how they would turn it to their
advantage.

	Dumpling scooted over so she could touch my bloated cunt mouth that
still contained her sister's arm that by now was soaked with my precious
essence. "Remember what I told you. Now you know; you just made her go off by
rubbing her G-spot. I wonder where all that stuff would go if she was sealed up
when that spot got rubbed." That brought a knowing smile from her sister.

	"Why don't you try to get your hand into her too? I'll bet that would
really make a good tight seal between us. Then I could still move my hand enough
to rub her some more. Come on Dumpling, get a move on so we can find out what
happens. I am just dying to know." Speaking for myself I wasn't that eager at
all to discover where that flood of fluid would travel. However it was not my
decision. I could only hope that Marla would return and restore order before I
was seriously harmed by the wild experiments those two devils were cooking up
for me.


				 ( To be continued)

				Juliette the Super Tramp


				        Chapter 10


	Alas, my luck continued to be bad and I perhaps became the first woman
to ever have had the unsettling experience of having one's spending turned aside
and deflected further into her, rather than exploding in all its glory from
between my twitching cunt lips. There was some pain associated with this
phenomenon, but not enough to crow about. However I did realize a most
distressing reaction that could only be described as a combination of
frustration and depression made extremely intense by the uniqueness of my
situation. The twins were ecstatic that they had been able to accomplish this
feat. The two fiends from Hades even went so far as to become the first persons
to have shaken hands while they were inside my completely stuffed vagina. To my
relief they soon lost interest in double stuffing me as if I was some type of
poultry being readied for the oven.

	Dumpling rummaged around in my little cubicle while Dimples continued to
keep my vagina engaged, her arm now into me up to her elbow. Then I felt the
oddest sensation as her tiny fingers began to encounter the neck of my uterus.
It started as a gentle pressure that moved to a type of periodic palpitation and
finally blossomed into some delicious soupcons of pain that I quickly consumed
as I watched my skin flutter in response to the rather intimate investigation
this imp from hell was undertaking.

	Then something new came onto my horizon, a glittering straight razor
held up to my eyes by Dumpling. "This should certainly do the trick in getting
rid of all that stubble we couldn't yank from you. I really must apologize for
the cold water and the fact that this implement is not as sharp as it could be,
but we'll just have to tough it out, won't we?" I knew already that the question
was rhetorical, these two certainly had the upper hand on all counts, if you'll 
pardon the poor pun.

	A few minutes or so later, after Dimples had extricated her arm from my
vagina and made me lick it clean of all my juices, the two of them settled down
to begin to complete the denuding process they had so violently begun some time
ago. My first shock was the realization that these little monsters intended to
dry shave my privates, not a very pleasant process if done haphazardly. I
ventured to ask their experience in performing this particular treatment,
knowing full well that shaving a patient's parts before surgery was a common
operation often performed by the nursing staff. When they looked at each other
and giggled, I knew I was in some difficulty.

	"You are our first customer for this service and we hope you enjoy it as
much as we will." Dumpling said with the most mischievous grin I'd ever seen. I
decided to shut my eyes and hope for the best. With a little bit of luck they
just might cut me deep enough to draw some substantial amount of blood which
would occupy them perhaps until nurse Likre returned and rescued me from their
clutches. Of course if they did manage to inflict such a severe wound I would
derive a great deal of pleasure from it as well. As they took turns scrapping
away at my tender flesh, causing more irritation than pain, a terribly
frustrating situation, I fumed and fussed, unable to do anything to either
enhance or deter their efforts. It was at the point that Dumpling was preparing
to insinuate that semi-sharp blade into a very intimate portion of my vulva in
order to eliminate a few hairs she claimed to have seen, that the door opened
and my savior arrived, or so I naively thought.

	At the same time her entry caused Dumpling to lose her concentration,
resulting in some delicious pain, but only for a few instants. I've had this
particular portion of my genitals worked on by experts in the field of pain
using everything from jeweler's micro-torches to injections of concentrated
scorpion venom, and so her little mishap hardly registered on my top one hundred
list of pussy punishments. Nurse Likre restored order in an instant, directing
Dimples to check on my catheter while she instructed Dumpling on how to use the
straight razor to remove those hard to reach areas such as the region around my
anus and between it and my vagina.

	The temptation to move inadvertently so as to cause a slip in the imp's
hand that might produce a more intense amount of pain was strong, but nurse
Likre was on to me and a frown from her was sufficient to scotch my plans.
Dimples on the other hand required no prompting from me at all. The demon
immediately understood the function of my catheter and its potential to cause me
a great deal of discomfort. She also knew that to avoid being sliced up like a
Sunday baked ham, it was imperative that I refrain from any sudden movements.
She had heard nurse Likre's instructions to me concerning any untoward movement
and the penalty it would cause, so the nasty little girl decided to see what
might happen if she yanked the catheter from my bloated bladder without so much
as a by your leave.

	Two things occurred in rapid succession, my body jerked uncontrollably
and Dumpling's hand slipped, slicing a nasty and very bloody cut into the flesh
of my  perineum. The pain was awesome for a time, then I went into shock from
the abrupt loss of blood, coupled with the irritation of my bladder duct. I do
enjoy the attentions of an expert who knows exactly what to do to the bladder
and its surrounding area. I've had pain that was nearly off scale from the
insertion of various chemicals into my bladder, especially when it is already
full to bursting. Chemical reactions can be created that will cause pressure
within one's bladder to reach the bursting point in a matter of perhaps fifteen
seconds. Many times I've been given ten to twelve second tastes of this torment
and have to admit that I am not exactly curious to experience the feeling that
comes from having one's bladder literally explode.

	Nurse Likre quickly took action that stemed the bleeding and restored my
body to a more normal state. While I was unconscious she had Dimples drain my
bladder of its contents and store the liquid in a collection jar for future use.
When I awoke, her face was the first thing I saw. Almost immediately her face
was replaced with one of her milk laden breasts and I opened my mouth and began
to greedily suckle the warm sweet milk that flowed from her teat. I was in
heaven; there is no way to describe the pleasure that sucking nurse Likre's milk
from her provided to this rather disengaged personality of mine. This delightful
feeling ranked right up there with taking 220 volts through my vagina while it
was saturated with a saline solution that jacked up the amount of amperage that
could be transmitted through it.

	Although I was in a state of bliss thanks to the bountiful supply of
sweet tasting mother's miilk I was drawing from first one and then the other of
Marla's beautiful dispensers, her two charges had become rather bored with it
all. To entertain themselves, they set to work making me squirt. I was at their
mercy and they made the most of it. First one little set of fingers would
intrude and seek the magic pad which would trigger my explosions of liquified
lust. Once she was successful, she'd give way to the other imp who would repeat
the process and induce another shower of secretions from those marvelous glands
that always seemed to be capable of some form of response to the stimulation
that these devils provided.

	After a time Marla's upper body glistened with a thick coating of my
spendings which attracted the attentions of her two evil elves. Dimples and
Dumpling took turns licking and sucking up this magic fluid that I continued to
dispense whenever one of them would insert a few knowing fingers and rub, rub,
rub until I gave up more of my treasure. Had I not be so engrossed with Marla's
fat teats and what was flowing from them, I might have paid more attention to
the effects that this heavy depletion of my sexual fluids was causing to my
body's internal chemistry. Then the first set of cramps began and gradually
intensified and were joined by spasmodic reactions from other regions that also
started to react to the abrupt changes that were happening to my metabolism
among other things. I became quite warm, so warm in fact that nurse Likre felt
my brow as she held her teat to my suctioning mouth. "This will never do!" my
surrogate mother exclaimed and withdrew the source of happiness from my greedy
mouth. I was crushed.

	My nurse, no longer my mommy, quickly directed her two assistant
hellions to bring over the collection bottle so that she might rehyrdrate me.
Nurse Likre was most competent and had quickly recognized the fact that her two
impish aides had quite overdone my capabilities when it came to discharging my
precious essence in the form of fluids. However one look at the rather murky
contents of the bottle convinced her that something more fresh and relatively
free from undissolved solids was appropriate for my treatment. I watched as the
two devils disguised as angels made rather large amounts of wee-wee, as they
called it, into a fresh collection bottle. I estimated that there was nearly a
litre of pale yellow girl pee waiting for me to swallow, and swallow it I did.
It was rather tasty in a tart sort of way with just a hint of uric acid. I'd
give it an 8.5 out of 10 rating.

	While I was ingesting their piss in an attempt to regain my electrolytic
equilibrium, those two troublemakers were amusing themselves by fastening their
razor sharp teeth to my labia and seeing how much they could be stretched. For a
time their teeth did a very nice job of tickling my pain receptors, and I even
drooled a little stream of girl goo as they took turns tickling my cunt mouth
with the tips of their fingers. This did not sit well with my nurse who
chastised them severely and threatened to exclude them from the next sex session
between her and her studly husband. They instantly became angels of mercy upon
hearing what would occur if they continued to be disobedient.

	Nurse Likre ordered her two aides to leave the room and drink as much
water as they could hold since I'd require the contents of at least another two
to three full to bursting bladders in order to restore my body to normalacy. As
soon as they left she wiggled from her uniform, having merely pulled the top
portion down to her waist and removed her bra in order to suckle me. Once she
was completely naked, my lover to be crawled up onto the bed and positioned her
fragrant pussy against my face and whispered for me to begin pleasuring her. I
did so with gusto, making a complete pig of myself as she laughed at my
exuberance.

	In my position I was completely at her beck and call and she made the
most of it. I delved as deep inside her love tunnel as my tongue could stretch.
I made no struggle when she smothered me in the folds of that aromatic cunt
nearly making me pass out.  I lapped up and down her cunt mouth and even
returned to that puckered sphincter to give it a second polishing that left it
wet and gleaming from all my saliva. I have no idea when those two witches in
training returned to watch my performance and critique it as well.

	The highlight of this torrid session was when Marla pressed her cunt to
my mouth and released the contents of her full bladder into me. At first I was
stunned, almost humiliated as I could hear the twin demons making rude comments
once they realized that Marla was urinating into my mouth , and worse still, I
was gulping it down as fast as she offered it. When she finally finished
voiding, I licked her vulva and as much of her urethra as I could. Marla
remained where she was until I remembered my manners and kissed her cunt from
top to bottom and thanked her for a most wonderful time. I could hear the gasps 
of surprise coming from the twin terrors, but I could care less about their
tender sensibilities, Marla and I were two women making love, something alien to
these two twits.

	Then my nurse finally released me from the cramped, contorted position I
was forced to assume when my ankles were pinned back behind my ears.
Straightening my limbs was on balance an excruciating propostion as the
circulation to my lower extremities had been badly compromised for many long
hours. The initial pain, which was a bit of a treat, soon was replaced by
tingling and partial numbness, neither of which did much for my weakness for
pain. I doubted that even in an emergency would I be able to walk, let alone run
to escape danger. When I articulated this thought to my nurse she laughed and
replied, "I'm sure there would be any number of volunteers in the neighborhood
who would gladly assist you."

	That made me wonder what was to happen to me later this evening? Would I
be transferred in the usual way to the men's wing of the hospital so I could
continue my avocation of improving patient morale among those unfortunates
unable to enjoy access to members of the opposite sex? How would nurse Crocet
deal with my little pecadillo, or would she remain oblivious to it? I was
brought back from my reverie by nurse Likre's professional voice which I felt
was most incongruous considering her nakedness and the amount of lady lust that
was dripping from her nearly perfect vulva.

	"I'm going to have to insert your catheter immediately since nurse
Crocet is due here in less than two hours and I want the tube to be well set
inside you, since that is probably the first thing she will check. Your chart
gives very specific instructions that your bladder is not to be emptied during
this shift, and it can only be released by nurse Crocet or her designated
representative. I have not been given that power, so things would not go well
for me if she suspected that I had overridden your physician's orders." There
was nothing for me to do but allow the tiny tube to be threaded into my bladder
and the clip attached to prevent my urine from being eliminated. However it
would be obvious, so I thought, that once nurse Crocet examined the urine that I
did release, its clarity and color would immediately act to expose the fraud
that nurse Likre was perpetrating.

	She was well ahead of me on that score, adminstering a dose of a drug
that would cloud my urine and produce a strong tinge in it that would normally
be associated with urine held for much longer than normal in the patient's
bladder. I was also told that within the hour Mr. Watson would send a pair of
orderlies to strip my bed, freshen the mattress and replace the bedding. In
exchange they would be allowed to view my pubes since the strait jacket could
not be removed.

	In the interim Dimples and Dumpling produced enough urine to cause my
belly to round somewhat once I consumed it all. Then came the piece de
resistance, Marla Likre got down between my thighs and demonstrated her
legendary skill to the point that the bed pan that was placed beneath my bottom
collected nearly a pint of my juice, which I drank at her request in the
interests of keeping me in proper electroyltic balance. Minutes before the
orderlies arrived, the twin, teen teasers slipped from the room, but not before
promising me a very interesting time if ever our paths crossed in the future. By
the time they did arrive, nurse Likre was once more starched and serene while I
looked as if I had been dragged through a sewer. This only added to my own
budding legend as one of the worse sluts ever to have passed through this
institution in all its eighty- four years of existence. At last, exactly two
hours late, nurse Crocet entered my room, checked my chart, had a brief
conversation with nurse Likre and then devoted her attention to my status,
completely unaware of what had transpired over the past ten hours.


				( To be continued )

				Juliette the Super Tramp


				       Chapter 11


	No sooner had nurse Likre departed my little cell, then nurse Crocet
turned towards me with a rather suspicious look on her face. There I was, the
very picture of the proper patient in my hospital issued strait jacket, neck
secured as per hospital regulations to the bedstead, legs spread and held fast
by a hospital issued spreader bar, body resting on fresh sheets and a thoroughly
disinfected mattress and my recently shaven pubes on display for her inspection.
I awaited her examination, which was quick to occur. She drew on a pair of
disposable latex gloves and approached the bed.

	She placed the palms of her hands on my still rounded stomach, and
pressed down with a steady force that soon had me groaning. "Rather full for a
patient on limited water intake and no solid food; how very strange. Let's check
the bladder, which should be full to bursting by now if your previous nurse has
followed the doctor's orders... Oh my, what do we have here, some type of
medical miracle?" Now it was my turn to groan inwardly; the jig was up and lord
knows what that would mean for yours truly.

	Nurse Crocet was a no nonsense type and she knew there had been some
hanky-panky going on in this room. Now she began to assemble the evidence to
support her suspicion. "The bedding has just been changed; I wonder why? I guess
I'll have to visit that old pervert in charge of Maintenance and Supplies and
show him that I'm not wearing any underpants so he'll give me an honest answer
about this."  I just acted like another piece of hospital issued furniture and
let her go about her investigation. It was not possible to avoid comparing what
it took for the two nurses to get Mr.Watson to do their bidding. I had seen
nurse Likre with and without her underpants and could not begin to imagine, nor
did I wish to, what nurse Crocet looked like in the latter case.

	This dedicated professional showed me that like myself, she was subject
to the imperfections that curse human kind. Without any muttering or warning she
yanked the catheter from my bladder and held it up to her eye. I automatically
closed off my bladder for a variety of reasons, all of which gave me away. I
didn't want to spend hours lying in a pool of urine, I really didn't have to go
that bad and I was too suprised to react to this abrupt move. Before my mind got
back into gear, my angel of mercy had already begun to thread the tubing back up
through my urethra and into my bladder, clipping it shut in one quick move once
she was happy with its positioning. I was well and truly exposed for my
complicity in disobeying the sacred tablets known as doctor's instructions.

	"I was going to show you some kindness and let you empty your bladder
before taking you over to the men's wing for your last visit, or as some on this
staff describe it, your last morale building session. To my way of thinking you
are nothing but an unreconstructed tramp totally unworthy to be a patient in
this institution dedicated to healing the sick. Now I intend to get in the way
of your outrageous activity as much as I can. I've already delayed your little
assignation by two hours, and for the next few hours I intend to make sure that
when you arrive at your destination they will discover your full bladder,
perhaps already beginning to backup into your blood stream with some rather
serious consequences, and another unpleasant surprise that I've prepared for
them as well. I know that the obstacle I place in their path will be swept aside
at some cost to your insides, which will probably serve as a source of pleasure
rather than pain due to your inherent deviance, but I will sleep soundly knowing
that I have tried my best."

	What could I say in my defense? Everything she spoke was the truth as
she saw it, and as most folk would. My behavior certainly deviated from the norm
no matter how the boundaries were defined. Simply put, I enjoyed pain and was
addicted to sex in all its myriad forms. It was a good life, an adventurous one
and promised to be a short one as well. So I remained quiet, conserving my
energy for the fun and games that awaited me once I made it to the other side.
Meanwhile nurse Crocet did a very strange thing, she began to remove her
uniform. Another minor deviation of mine is voyeurism, thus I glued my eyes to
the good nurse hoping to be somewhat titillated by what she wore beneath her
starched white garment. I was not disappointed at what she revealed.

	Whereas the undergarments of nurse Likre were white, lacy, well fitted
to her magnificent figure and formed a nearly perfect ensemble, nurse Crocet's
underwear did not match in color or material and was strictly designed to call
attention to her genitals and other manifestations of her female sexuality.She
revealed a pair of red bikini panties made of some type of stretch material that
made it appear as if it was sprayed over her vulva. Thanks to the sheer crotch
of the bikinis, her vulva was shown in all its bearded glory. Nurse Crocet had
shaved away all her pepper and salt colored pubic hair except for a narrow strip
that neatly focused attention to her wrinkle lipped cunt. I found myself licking
my lips in anticipation of that well seasoned and, I would imagine, well used
dripping clam of a cunt being presented front and center for a good cleansing
that would result in a very pungent, salty spending of lady liquid into this
humble patient's mouth.

	In contrast to the elaborate garter belt and suspenders used to make
sure that nurse Likre's hose were perfectly straight and properly molded to her
superb legs, nurse Crocet wore thigh high white hose doubly held in place by
lilac colored garters. Unlike the tapering lower limbs of Marla, who at times
owned me body and soul, Crocet's were functional columns of aging flesh and bone
that supported her slightly overweight body at a mildly acute angle as best as I
could estimate.  As for this aging nurse's breasts, they could never even in
their best days have competed in the same league as those glorious mammary
glands that Marla currently sported, ably assisted by that wonderful lacy, white
bra that dared gravity to inhibit those jutting mounds of milk-laden flesh.

	Crocet's tits, and that's what they were when contrasted to what Marla
was packing, were fighting to escape the confines of a sheer taupe colored bra.
They were torpedo shaped with long brownish nipples. I wondered how many mouths
had sucked those teats and what they got for their efforts. Nurse Crocet turned
to give me a full view of her body as she fumbled with the clasps of her bra.
"Not too bad for a woman in her early fifties, don't you agree?" Crocet asked.
From the look on her face I knew that anything less than a rave review would
bring some type of retaliation, and I was in no position to take anymore rough
handling thanks to my bladder which had reached full and was now on that
agonizing path to "on the verge of bursting".

	She popped her bra loose and heaved a sigh as they flopped free of the
cups. Gravity quickly reshaped them into a pair of guords, one slightly larger
than its mate. I opened my mouth to let her see its flickering tongue, in a
false show of sexual excitement. "You  want to get at these babies, don't you?
They may not be as shapely as nurse Likre's, but then again, I'm not nursing. If
you're a good little tramp your nurse just might let you chew on these boobs
after you've cleaned up my cunny with that tongue you just teased me with." I
was more than a bit taken aback to hear that from nurse Crocet. She had never
shown any kind of interest in what she was now demanding from me. I thought it
strange that we would be having this interlude when I was supposed to be over in
the men's wing taking care of the needs of perhaps a dozen patients, maybe even
a larger number considering I was soon to depart from this area of the hospital.

	She now came to the side of my bed and I detected a rank odor emanating
from the vicinity of her pubic region.  A knowing smile broke the planes of her
wrinkled face. "Like it? That's the aroma from a well aged pussy that has been
marinating in its own juices for the better part of a day. Until an hour ago
I've been wearing a pair of wool underpants beneath a tight fitting pair of
rubber pants for the entire day, and then some. I must have pissed in those
underpants at least half a dozen times considering all the tea I drank. The wool
does a great job of absorbing pee, and once the water portion has partially
evaporated, only that nasty uric acid remains to irritate one's private parts.
You'll be hard pressed to get it all without putting in a serious effort, be
sure of that. In fact I feel the need to relieve myself coming on once more.
Only this time you'll take care of this for me, won't you, my dear, darling
strumpet of a slag!"

	As she spoke, my old nurse pulled her tight fitting bikinis from her
hips and yanked them free of her crotch, creating a wet hissing sound as they
peeled away from her uric saturated skin with all those crevices and that major,
fleshy-winged trench that split her vulva. Still wearing her thigh high hose she
clambered onto the bed and presented her bearded clam for my attention. "Now do
a good job, no matter how long it takes. I've got plenty of time before you're
due to be transported to your next station."

	I realized that nurse Crocet was well aware of my late evening
assignations, but the way she was talking led me to believe that for reasons I
did not understand I was to be on a new schedule. What did all this mean? Was I
about to be transferred to begin my rejuvenation and perhaps rebirth? Were they
preparing a more elaborate sendoff for me in the men's wing, one that took much
longer to prepare and might even be located in a more spacious area capable of
accommodating all those who might wish to attend and perhaps use me for the last
time? The arrival of her stinking, hair-bordered cunt forced me to concentrate
on my duties and I opened my mouth and prepared for the first spurt of her hot
salty piss.

	When it came to matters involving urination, nurse Crocet was in a class
by herself. It was she who had convinced my doctor of the wit and wisdom of
allowing me to spend lengthy periods with my bladder filled to the bursting
point. Nurse Crocet was the one behind having me consume huge quantities of my
own urine over and over until it was too impurity laden and foul smelling to
hold down. She had also ranged the hospital wards collecting the urine from
patients with bladder infections, kidney problems and the like so that my diet
of piss could be varied somewhat.

	Now I profess to be a hopeless addict when it comes to pain, but on the
subject of handling body wastes, I am on the fence. There is something mildly
exciting to the depravity associated with water sports in general. Some such as
enemas can be absolutely thrilling to a masochist. However in general I would
prefer to take a pass on these types of free expression if allowed to by my
partner. Currently my partner, nurse Crocet, was bound and determined to force
me to wallow in this form of depravity. Wallow I did, ingesting each and every
squirt of that foul tasting brew that she produced from her straining bladder.

	She had fantastic control of the stream that issued from her urethra,
she could dribble it out so that there was a steady supply that kept my tongue
and the insides of my mouth well coated. At other times he could force a fire
hose of foaming acid laden fluid down my throat so fast that I would choke on
it. She could vary the force and duration of her flow so that it was impossible
to anticipate what would be delivered from second to second. She even managed to
get me to spew her offering from my nostrils on certain occasions; that
particular feat always brought a chortle from her. At last after a number of
extremely short bursts of her acidic waste, she was finished.

	Nurse Crocet heaved a sigh of relief and commented how wonderful it was
to have an empty bladder. Then I felt her hand pushing tentatively down on my
totally filled urine storage chamber. I moaned piteously as the fluid sought to
escape into free space but was foiled. Crocet rewarded my efforts to create
something resembling pity in her by pressing even harder on that bulging,
bloated bag of fluid that was stretched to its full length by now. For just a
brief moment I felt a lancing sensation run through that area that turned on
some of my pain circuits; it was a brief moment of pleasure that was quickly
scotched. "You are such a pevert! I wish I was able to take you home with me so
I could try some other approaches to make pain your enemy instead of your
addiction. There are so many things we could try together to see if we could
make you act normally when you were cut or burned." At that point I was very
glad that I was soon departing from the clutches of nurse Crocet. I was
beginning to believe that perhaps she was in the process of going round the
bend, and that frightened me.

	"Alright you stinking slag, let's get that snake's tongue of yours busy
cleaning up your old nurse, and don't you dare miss a spot or it will go hard on
you." To emphasize what she meant, she poked her bony finger into my urine
storage tank and I let out a yelp that was sincere in its tone and intensity. I
began licking the salts that encrusted her pubes. First she had me strain her
springy pubic hair through my teeth to get the chunks of salt loosened. Then I
lapped like a dog to finish the job of dissolving them so I could suck those
tiny grains up and swallow them down with the help of some saliva. This was one
miserable job and it seemed to take forever, but I had no option in this matter.

	At long last I could lick through her saliva soaked pubic hair that
almost felt silky to my abraded and abused tongue, and encounter nothing
resembling acid salts. Crocet must have thought the same, for she declared a
moratorium on further salt mining and instead commanded me to bring her off and
make the process last. I sighed to myself and began worming my tongue as far
into her rancid cunt as it could go. She still stunk to the high heavens which
did not make my assignment any easier. I tried to imagine that this was the
grotto of my love, Marla, and it smelled as fresh as a field of flowers right
after a gentle shower. Crocet destroyed the illusion by breaking wind. I am sure
that the timing could not have been deliberate unless the old nurse was a mind
reader. I pressed on with my chore.

	It dawned on me that I had been eating an awful lot of pussy over the
past few hours. There was nurse Likre and those two imps from hell, and now
nurse Crocet. One would think all this practice would be of assistance to me in
this current task, but such was not the case. I began to experiment to discover
my nurse's sweet or soft spots so they could be used to get her to the next
level on our way to a nice cataclysmic orgasm. I licked some potential areas to
no avail, then I tried tonguing and even sucking, still no luck. I became
frustrated to the point that without even thinking, I delivered a series of
sharp nips to certain areas. Lo and behold I had found Golconda!

	The rest was easy and so nurse Crocet and I slowly marched to the top of
the mountain. I escorted her to the ledge overlooking an impossibly deep gorge
and then flung her into space watching her burst into flame as an orgasm larger
than any tidal wave that man had ever seen washed over her. She and I had turned
out to be kindred spirits! I'm not at all sure that she knew what she was until
that moment when she went to a different plane of existence, compliments of the
super tramp.


				( To be continued)

                               Juliette the Super Tramp

                                     by Lex Ludite

                                      Chapter 12

       It took nurse Crocet some time before she joined the rest of us on planet Earth. Then she acted as if nothing of substance had happened, nothing at all. That rancid cunt mouth was once more glued to my face, and I was urged to get busy and start to work on some other veins of salt buried in the complicated maze of her wrinkled flesh. I did my best to ferret out every trace of that damnable salt until my lips were puckered and swollen and my tongue felt like a balloon in my parched mouth. Even as I evacuated what seemed like at least a kilo of salt from her skin, my mind could not help going back to those moments when I had inadvertently discovered the old nurse's deepest secret. What if she had known all along who she was? Wouldn't we have had some fun pleasuring each other!

       I began to drip a little sauce from my seemingly endless pool of lady lust as I imagined what it would have been like. I could feel the hot soldering iron in her bony hand as she moved it up and down the sodden trench between my charred cunt lips, creating small eruptions of steam as the hot tip evaporated the juices that were now flowing, rather than dripping, from my eternally spasming cunt. Now it was time for the big finish and I arched my back to present my erect clitoris that she had earlier scraped raw with a pad of steel wool. She licked her lips with pleasure as she tickled my raw nubbin of super sensitive flesh with just the very tip of that heavenly tool of pleasure causing a fire storm to race from my hot button to every pain receptor in my brain, effectively frying my conscious mind until it could no longer reason, just fire random signals to random portions of my body commanding it to shiver and shake while my teeth tried to first bite my tongue from its moorings, and then frustrated in that, my throat began to swallow the bleeding lump of flesh in its entirety.

       Her harsh voice roused me from the wonderful wet dream. My nurse now ordered me to get a move on and start working down in the lower depths of her salt mine. I gritted my teeth and complied, my tongue moving slowly, but purposefully towards her bottom, covered with thick deposits of uric acid salt that had hardened and seemed to be impervious to my saliva. My sore tongue was not sufficient for this monumental task and so I reverted to using my teeth to in a sense act like some kind of a dredge to scrape away the layers of salt into something more manageable for my poor tongue and mouth to handle. Her reaction to this approach was dramatic.

       Nurse Crocet grabbed me by the hair and slammed my face into her crotch over and over as she mumbled something to the effect that I was a demon come to take her to hell and she would not go. Between blows to the head I realized that she still was struggling against her true self. Then it hit me, my biting had started her juices to flowing once more and in reality, sooner than later, I would be put back to work in order to take her back to that mountain and see if she could fly this time rather than fall as a burning stone. I am aware that at times like this I do wax poetic for reasons I have never understood, but I accept this for what it is, part of my personality, come out to play, then curtsy and go back to where it usually hides.

       At long last, just before I feared that what little brains my head contained would tear loose from their moorings and begin rattling around within the confines of my skull, nurse Crocet uttered those magic words that I had awaited. They were delivered, along with some mighty blows to my ears from her palms, and I was commanded to bring her to orgasm. Actually her exact words were, "Make me come you whore of Satan! I will deal with you once this stress you have created in me is gone." Then that foul smelling sewer disguised as her cunt enveloped me once more.

       I set about my business of guiding her up the mountain switchbacks and over the pitfalls that separated us from the crest of this mighty cathedral of rock and snow. This time we paused on level ground to regain our strength before moving to the next plateau. This was done at her bequest and signaled to me by the abrupt withdrawal of her oozing slot from my face and the sharp incisors that were hidden behind that fleshy exterior. The second time she did this I realized that she was teasing herself, knowing full well that she was in total command of the situation; I was nothing but her instrument, pray tell a human vibrator or perhaps a dildo.

       The length of our trek was beginning to take its toll on me, but she urged me on mercilessly, grinding that reeking slab of liver-like flesh up and down my face as I nipped and bit at it, missing as often as I struck,  nicking that blubbery mass. Just before we reached the ledge once more, she had me extend my tongue to its maximum length, ordering me to probe that point within her cunt until she allowed me to resume my worrying of that reeking wet flesh. In truth nurse Crocet was revealing her needs and understanding what had been latent in her for those many years of false hopes and mere echoes of what she was about to once more experience. This time it was she who was totally in charge. I could not help wondering who would return from this trip to the mountain.

       My mistress did not fall this time, she exploded into a shimmering wall of colors and shapes that could not be created by any prism or kaleidoscope made on this Earth. When the shock wave from this transmutation struck me, I felt as if I was under a thundering cascade of water falling from a mile above in a sheer drop controlled strictly by gravity. Unlike the first event, this time I was somehow a minor partner, allowed to share in whatever feelings that were emanating from that shimmering wall of strange shapes and colors that was once nurse Crocet.

       I regained my senses a few minutes before she did and all I could do was stare at the ceiling and be very thankful for that marvelous experience I had just shared with that old nurse who now had something to look forward to in the remaining time she had on this plane of existence. She was sprawled on her back, her chest rising and falling, her pussy absolutely dripping from that titanic orgasm. I imagined it would be quite a project to get her cleaned up and ready for whatever else she had dreamed up for me, or perhaps there would be Orgasm III, the mother of all orgasms. I could see the movie trailer now. It turned out that I was incorrect on all counts.

       Once the old nurse regained her senses she stretched her arms into the air as if she was waking from a deep and lengthy sleep and gave me this look that was unfathomable. Then she did the damndest thing, she crawled up and gave me a very wet and extremely passionate kiss. Seldom have my tonsils been swabbed as deep or with that much enthusiasm. When she withdrew she had this sly smile on her face. I reacted negatively to it naturally; after all considering what had transpired since she arrived in this little cubical of a room what else could I conclude. "I have a nice surprise for you; consider it a gift for services rendered."

My ears pricked up like those of a dog hearing its master. I stared at my mistress of the moment and can only presume that my puzzled look led to her expanding on this cryptic remark.

       "Before taking you on a visit to the men's wing, I had planned a nasty little surprise for those perverts and degenerates. Unfortunately its implementation would have allowed you to enjoy a considerable amount of pain, which in a sense would negate my efforts to a degree. I did have a solution for this issue which involved injecting the region to be affected with a massive amount of a drug that is used here to alleviate the sufferings of terminal cancer patients for periods of up to a few hours. In principle this would not only give me time to perform the procedure I designed for you, it would also blunt any enjoyment you would get while they attempted to undo it over there. However after what you have done for me now and in the future as well, I must reciprocate in kind. I know your greatest pleasure is absorbing pain, and now you shall have a treat that may remain in your memories for a very long time. In the next hour or so I intend to effectively close off your lower orifices so that they will have to expend a considerable effort in making them accessible to the perverts and degenerates eagerly awaiting your arrival."

       I could hardly contain myself. Nurse Crocet was a no-nonsense type and I was sure that her procedure would be heavy handed and indeed produce a great deal of pain. She was the blunt force trauma type if ever I saw one; there would be nothing elegant about her procedure, or so I thought. Once again she surprised me. She disappeared from sight for a few minutes and when she returned she was wheeling a small table over to my bed. Naturally I was on tenterhooks, awaiting her revelation of this procedure. It was direct and brilliant in its execution; even more importantly it would provide huge amounts of major pain. I was ecstatic!

       I don't know where she got the material but nurse Crocet had a spool of one mil diameter stainless steel. This, along with a needle designed especially for this "thread", was to be used to sew up my inner labia to be technical about it. As soon as she explained this to me I began to leak a goodly amount of precursor material to the massive ejaculations I would deliver once she began cross stitching my sensitive inner lips into an overlapping pattern. She estimated she'd probably use upwards of sixty stitches depending on how well I fared and how much blood was produced. I could hardly wait, but there was more, much more. As she continued her description of this procedure my leakage  turned into a stream and then a minigusher. Nurse Crocet smiled and told me that a trip to see Mr.Watson would be mandatory in view of what I was already producing in the line of ejaculate. "I hope I don't need a face shield to do you properly" Crocet said, only partially in jest.

       I flooded the bed when she casually mentioned that once my inner lips were stitched closed, she intended to place a second line of defense in place, namely a thin sheet of stainless steel of approximately the same thickness as the thread. This would be held in place by a number of spot welds that would connect the sheet to the thread. I was familiar with the tool that was used for such a procedure, since it was also used in the construction of jewelry and had been adapted to give me some of the highest pain levels I'd ever experienced by the same sadist that used the micro torch on me. The prospect of having a level of pain that might cause the top of my head to separate from the skull beneath was breathtaking. I could hardly wait. But there was still more planned for me.

       She envisioned the same sort of defense utilizing my outer labia, making sure that access to my urethra was assured. She reasoned that they might want to take out their frustrations on my poor defenseless bladder once they realized the type of fortifications that she had provided. My outer cunt lips would be triple stitched in a herring bone pattern, with spot welds every few millimeters to ensure its integrity. Then another thin foil of stainless steel would be welded to the stitches, thus completing her system for my vagina.

       Nurse Crocet had designed a similar system for my anus, but with a configuration change. She mentioned that the pain level I'd experience during the anal protection procedure might exceed what would be developed in the vaginal protection scheme. I was out of my mind with anticipation. She showed me the anal discus that would be emplaced first. It was to be a press fit and the pain would be brief but extremely intense, perhaps beyond my ability to enjoy, but that was the price I'd have to pay to assure that my anal passageway was protected from the perverts and degenerates that were eager to use and abuse it. Then she would sew my anus shut with the steel thread making the pattern extremely dense, almost solid. Then a second discus would be spot welded to the thread. She guaranteed that the pain would be excruciating and I spurted and squirted my happiness over this promise, much to her dismay. I do not believe my nurse had ever been in the presence of a true squirter, and she was having a bit of trouble dealing with this phenomenon.

       She began to work on my vaginal region and it lived up to its billing. There was plenty of pain, much of it in the heavy duty class. I was pleasantly surprised at how much pain that needle and thread created while she stitched my inner cunt lips closed. However when she spot welded the shield in place I was in heaven for brief periods of time. Every time I heard the sound of that arc being created and smelled the aroma of roasting flesh, my own, I'd deliver a stupendous wave of lady lust onto the bed. Once this was done, the power level that could be developed increased due to the presence of my sex liquids, making for an even better time. It was divine, in the truest sense of the word.

       After the first shield was in place, squirting became problamatical. I now was experiencing a new sensation every time my glands went into overdrive and the liquid lust bounced back from the shield and saturated my channel. My outer lips weren't as sensitive as the inner ones, no great surprise since the inner set lived a rather sheltered existence, relatively free from the vicissitudes of the flesh. Those outside flaps of skin and flesh had taken plenty of punishment over the years and were no longer as sensitive as I would have liked. It was my hope that one result of the physical modifications that were to be made on me would yield added sensitivity to certain areas of my new body. However nurse Crocet did her best to give me what I craved, jamming that needle deep into my flesh and yanking that piano wire, or whatever it was, through my flesh with reckless abandon, which was just what the patient ordered.

       Just before she put the second shield in place, Crocet yanked the catheter from my bladder and replaced it with a small sound that effectively closed my urethra. It was then that I realized that the pressure from my distended bladder was at a critical point. I wondered if nurse Crocet was going to drain me or just send me over filled to the verge of exploding and let those who I would be entertaining decide the issue of whether or not to let me pee, something I desperately wanted to do. I begged her for relief and she smiled and shook her head. I was crushed! "Perhaps if you're a good little girl and let nurse sew up your anus without making too much noise I'll think about possibly letting some of that nasty stuff out from your bladder, but not until then." I offered her a compromise, asking to be securely gagged while she did my back entrance. She grinned and reached for her discarded panties. I opened wide and let her stuff them into my mouth.

       I was terribly disappointed when nurse Crocet showed me the foil that was going into my anus; it had some kind of rubber ring around the edge! Here I was getting psyched up for perhaps the biggest jolt of pain I'd ever experienced and my nurse was chickening out! How many masochists ever got the opportunity to have their asshole swallow what was effectively a razor blade? The more I thought about it,  the more intriguing the whole idea became. I tried to argue my point, but nurse Crocet's rather salty bikinis kept getting in the way. She must have figured out I wasn't exactly thrilled by her approach. Then she showed me the second discus and this one was nothing but a sliver of stainless steel unencumbered by anything resembling a rubber. She smiled and said, "I guarantee that this one will provide all the stimulation you will ever need. If you don't pay attention to what you're doing, this little devil will cut that bottom hole of yours to ribbons in less than an hour." I was somewhat mollified by her comment.

       She rearranged my body to make it easier for her to work on my anal passageway. I was now in the same position as my time with the evil twins. Then I felt pressure and when my sphincter gave up the struggle, something large, something very large entered my colon. I heard nurse Crocet's voice once more. "Even with the gasket, one can't just shove that discus into your bottom without dilating your entryway. Now just you relax and let nurse do all the heavy work in getting this hole ready to accept my little troublemaker." I grunted as she withdrew whatever she was using and then rammed it home once more. I was beginning to like this part of the procedure.

       My mistress/nurse finally pronounced my anus to be properly dilated and without so much as a by your leave, she inserted the rubber rimmed stainless steel plate deep into my rear portal and sat back to observe how my body was handling the intruder. In truth it still was rather enjoyable, the pain was quite intense and I began to have doubts that I could have survived the entry of an unshielded version. Nurse Crocet gave me a shy smile and ran her wrinkled hand over my now distended starfish tickling me into a little spurt of liquid lust. "Now for more fun and games. This is going to hurt you a whole lot more than it does me, unfortunately." With that comment nurse Crocet stepped over onto the dark side, and I was proud to have played a part in assisting her in the transfer.

       On a scale of one to ten, what happened over the next ten to fifteen minutes bounced between nine and nine point five. Sewing my distended rectal passage shut was a lengthy process that required a great deal of "thread". Every so often she would pause and let me recover some of my equilibrium before returning my pain receptors to high. When I shut my eyes I swear I could see little bolts of lightning every time my nurse made another stitch. All good things must come to an end, and so this one did as well. There was still the fun attached to the joining process that would spot weld the second discus in place.

       Stainless steel may not be the world's best conductor of heat, but it did a very adequate job of creating a large pool of pussy juice onto the sheets just below my parted thighs. Nurse Crocet made sure that the outer shield was properly bonded to the thread bed beneath it, doubling the number of welds for this one. I was in heaven, at least I thought so more than a number of times, as that devilish machine made this spitting noise and an imp from hell ran a white hot poker into my anal region. I am proud of the fact that through it all I never pleaded, begged, cajoled, or in any other way hinted that I was not completely enjoying every agonizing minute of this clever procedure that was sure to confound and frustrate those expecting me to be immediately available.

       My mistress tapped the twin shields that were now in place, and gave me a knowing smile. "They are definitely not going to like this. I'm absolutely certain that there will be a great deal of consternation and anger toward you as well as I. Fortunately for you, they will in all likelihood take out their anger on your person, and I know how very much you will enjoy the punishment that is meted out to your bare and totally defenseless body. I regret that I will not be able to attend and see for myself what terrible things they come up with to make you suffer for what is my doing." She then leaned over and gave me a wet kiss while approximately a foot and a half of her tongue went down my throat; at least that's the way it felt to this pervert. I was ready and most eager to begin my journey to the men's wing in hopes that it would prove to be everything my mistress claimed and hopefully even more.

                               ( To be continued )

                   Juliette the Super Tramp - Chapter 13

       Nurse Crocet was not entirely done with me; she still had a surprise or two remaining. She removed her well sucked and chewed bikinis from my mouth and replaced them with a fixture that kept it propped open to the point that I was certain it could swallow the head of my new, intimate friend, nurse Crocet. She leaned close and squinted into my mouth, making little mumbling noises as she surveyed the interior. After a few loud clucking sounds she withdrew and returned carrying a vicious looking hypodermic needle. I immediately began to ooze at the prospect before me. I often amused myself imagining the ten worst things that could possible be done to me. One that always remained on any list I could conceive involved the employment of a large, blunt-tipped hypodermic needle to inject chemicals into my gums that would cause them to swell and ultimately burst, filling my mouth with blood that ultimately would find its way down my throat and lodge in my lungs. Gradually the level of blood would force the air from those laboring sacs and I would effectively drown in my own blood. That one never failed to get me off, no matter how often I had already abused my little friend that lived under that fold of thick skin at the top of my vulva.

       Without any warning, my nurse friend proceeded to shoot whatever was in the hypo into my tongue and did that hurt; I loved it! In seconds my tongue was numb and according to her expanding, which would have scared the piss out of me except for the fact that nurse Crocet hadn't bothered to remove the sound plugging my urethra.

       "This will make you feel as if your gums caught fire; hope you enjoy it."

       She had said it with a knowing grin and so I prepared myself for a good time and was not disappointed. Crocet started at the area covering my front teeth and quickly worked backward to the molars. Then she dropped to the lower portion of my jaw and moved in the opposite direction from molars through canines and back to molars, finishing at the back of my lower jaw line. She paused and giggled like a schoolgirl before sinking the hypo into the gum region behind the last molar. I thought for a second that lightning had struck me, so great was the wave of stinging agony that radiated from where the needle tip had penetrated. I reacted the only way I knew, flooding the already wet bedding beneath my spread thighs. A second orgasm followed shortly afterward and even my nurse had to smile at the reaction that last hypo had created in her patient. It wasn't until she announced that the upper left side gums remained, that I remembered where the fun had begun.

       "Let's see how you like it in the roof of your mouth, my precious pain slut. Old nurse Crocet really knows how to hurt a girl and she certainly loves the opportunity to make you sweat and squirt. Now think good thoughts and hold on tight. I just know this will send you to a place you've never been previously."

       It was obvious that my dear boon companion had previous knowledge of what befell others who earned her wrath for various infractions of the lengthy Crocet rules book. I began to wonder just where she would ultimately rank me in that long list of suffering malcontents that she had encountered and bent to her will. The first bolt of blinding agony took me off topic immediately. After paying the admissions price, it was well worth it, the pain was blissful. The old nurse took her sweet time and there were moments when I neared my limits. Thankfully she seemed to know just where they resided and stayed right at them, allowing me to flood the bed to the point that the bedding became saturated as well with my spending. Crocet clucked at my excessive behavior and warned me that any further displays would call for not only retaliation, but also a suspension of my visit to the men's wing of the hospital. That chilled me to the bone, for I was ready and randy to face whatever they could deliver. The old nurse had neatly trapped me. When she lanced the roof my mouth just above my two front teeth, I almost swallowed my fat, benumbed tongue without even realizing it.

       "I am so disappointed in you! All I needed was one more to scream or another flood and you'd remain my own private patient despite your very influential medical friend. Now I'll have to wheel you across to the other side where they have been impatiently waiting for you so they can bend you to their wills and even cause you to despair of ever enjoying sex again, at least with the male of the species."

       My mind was still coping with the wave of pain that she had just delivered, and not capable of understanding the gravity of the situation that awaited me. Then the unending pressure from my swollen bladder began to intrude into my awareness. It dawned on me that whatever nurse Crocet had injected into my mouth had totally eliminated my ability to speak coherently. Here I was restrained, effectively made mute and able only to communicate with my eyes, not the best method considering my plight. Before I could begin to get my nurse's attention there came a knocking at the door to my room. It proved to be two orderlies, both large and black, just the way I liked them when it was late at night and I was unable to sleep properly. They were all business under the eagle eye of nurse Crocet. She watched them carefully as they transferred me from the cesspool that was once my bed to the gurney that was to transfer me to the other side. For some odd reason the ferry across the river Styx crossed my mind. I dismissed it quickly since Charon and nurse Crocet seemed to not have much in common.

       We two began the long crossing from wing to wing with little light except those winking tubes that created a feeling that one was in a slow motion version of a disco, come back from the past. The sense that my life was about to undergo a profound change leaked into my consciousness. I could barely make out the silhouette of my guide as she rolled the gurney down the long corridor that I'd traversed so many times previously. This time I had the feeling it was to be a one-way trip for me. I was startled when nurse Crocet began to talk to me.

       "It's a shame we didn't have some more time together. I'm sure we might have struck up an arrangement that was mutually beneficial for both. I have a girl at home; she's not much to talk about, but Cerys served me well. Like you she was an inmate, or shall we say "patient" at the hospital. Unlike you she was not much of an attraction for the males that manage and run this hospital. I was her only friend and when her money ran out, Cerys became my servant of sorts at my little house a few miles from here. Like yourself, she had this quirk about pain, and I did my best to satisfy it once I exhausted all other avenues that might have led to some form of rehabilitation."

       "While I was taking these other routes I fell into the trap she had innocently set for me. When she came to me, Cerys was of normal weight and frame. After four and a half years the poor thing is now five stone nine, almost ethereal. Still she craves her daily ration of pain and I can deny her nothing. At first I had hopes for a decent sexual relationship, but that was not to be the case. So ours is a strange relationship, not one founded on sex or mutual likings, but dominated by pain, her need being so strong that I feel at times that she is the mistress of the house, not myself."

       "I've beaten her to a pulp with a sawed-off broomstick as she hung by her wrists, stark naked and shaking from the cold down in my basement during the dead of winter. It took her almost three weeks to recover and start pleading for more pain. She kept after me and I surrendered, beginning another session downstairs, only this time it was a length of twisted wire that tore her flesh to tatters. It took me the best part of a week to cover her emaciated body from neck to ankles, leaving her hanging for hours at a time until she almost suffocated from the pressure of her weight that stretched her chest muscles to the point that they lost most of their strength. During that period I never cleaned the spot that grew just beneath her dangling legs, being fed by the blood that ran down her shrunken body from the deep cuts that were made by the twisted wire whip that I used exclusively to supply her need for pain."

       "It became dangerous for Cerys to be left alone. One day I returned to discover she had slammed a door deliberately against her fingers on one hand, breaking three of them. It could have been worse, but the pain was so intense that she went into shock. After that incident I always locked her in a closet, tied hand and foot, while I was at the hospital. When there were no places on her bare body that weren't cut, bruised or scarred, she began clamoring for new forms of pain such as fire. It started with heated needles and hatpins that seemed to give her exactly what she needed without too much damage to her rapidly thinning form. Soon that was insufficient, being replaced by heated utensils that provided a bigger jolt for her system. Then there was a period when she demanded heated needles and the like to be driven under her fingernails, and once they were exhausted, her toenails as well."

       All this pain talk was getting me itchy to the point that I was beginning to leak a little girl juice onto the gurney. It was so easy to shut my eyes and replace Cerys with myself. I'd been beaten with almost every type of whip and blunt instrument imaginable, but never by an old crotchety woman who knew her and thus my anatomy. It might be a nice change of pace to have some of my bones broken so that I was incapacitated and totally at her mercy. I began to wonder what she might do to this pain slut if given the opportunity. For a brief moment I thought of making a scene and somehow convincing her to take me back. Then I'd allow her to arrange for my release from the hospital, perhaps only a temporary one, so she could show me her arsenal of toys that she'd use on my bare body, both external as well as internal. My sick mental wanderings had taken me far away from the hospital, but her voice and a sharp blow to my face returned me to the here and now.

       "Pay attention you hussy; this is your last chance at salvation and I am your only savior! I want you to pay close attention to what I have to say. The injections you received just before we began our trip to the men's wing are another nasty surprise for them. Because your tongue and the inside of your mouth are numb, you have no idea of the pain that any contact with either area will cause. Close your eyes and allow your demented brain and imagination to run wild. Think of all the havoc your bobby-trapped mouth and tongue will cause when a hard cock intrudes in hopes of obtaining sexual relief and providing a dose of total humiliation to you, the helpless victim. Won't they be surprised at the pain you will cause! I only wish I could be there and witness it for myself instead of hearing about it second-hand."

       My spendings increased dramatically as I imagined all the neat and nasty things the outraged men might do to my helpless body, so fetchingly presented in its fresh straitjacket with an assortment of restraints guaranteed to hold my body motionless as they retaliated for my sneak attack. I'd be cut, no flayed; my breasts skinned by the surgeon's scalpel and lovingly rubbed with a mixture of ground glass and salt. Perhaps this would be the end of my dear friend that hid in its hood. Of course it wouldn't be a quick, brutal assault that left it mangled and bleeding. I envisioned micro skewers so thin that special tools were required just to handle them properly. How many could reside it that swollen nubbin of sex flesh, a thousand, ten thousand or dare I imagine closer to a million since they are so small? Naturally each one would be coated with a very slow acting acid that took days, even weeks to dissolve the flesh around it. Let it be hydrofluoric based I thought, that was the queen of the acids as far as I was concerned.

       Nurse Crocet's voice and pounding on the locked door to the men's wing brought me back to reality, such as it was. I heard muffled voices from the other side of the metal portal and then saw a shaft of light as the door slowly opened to admit me. My companion during this trek now moved to the side and as she did, slapped me smartly on my dribbling vulva. Then nurse Crocet laughed and announced that she hoped they would enjoy the fresh meat she had just delivered. Before the eager hands reached me so I could be dragged inside, still mounted to my gurney, the nurse had disappeared into the darkness still chuckling and only she and I knew why. My ordeal was about to begin.

                                     (To be continued - lex ludite)          

                            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)

                       

                                                 Juliette the Super Tramp - Chapter 15

       It would be an understatement to say that my doctor was appalled to see me in this state. Unfortunately I was unable to even signal to her that except for my face I was in fairly decent working order, or at least that was what I hoped. She raged at the fleeing patients and their handlers, but was unable to halt them. She gave me a cursory examination with her little flashlight and knowing fingers and came away reasonably satisfied I had not suffered any major trauma with perhaps the exception of what had been done to my face. She snapped her fingers and two rather massive interns appeared out of the darkness. In less than the time it took to tell, I was transferred to another, more comfortable gurney and wheeled into the darkness.

       Lois accompanied us to our destination; a rather small room whose one door had a very small square of glass that I surmised was for observation. Filling the bare bones room was a bed with restraints, a small table that supported an ominous black box with wires exiting from its many ports, a stand that currently held a number of bags containing what I guessed to be IV fluids, and a large plastic container that I intuitively associated with collecting bodily wastes. The walls were bare concrete, with no attempt to enhance the depressing ambience through the use of texture, color or hangings of any type. Looking up one would be almost blinded by the stark bulb that I would learn stayed on continuously. There were times that I would have given anything for a respite from that pitiless tiny sun looking down upon my helpless form.

       The interns followed her instructions to the letter and soon I found myself on my back, legs up and spread wide to provide access to my cunt and asshole. For a moment I relived my frustrating ordeal and prepared myself for another such session. However with time, my hopes for a better life increased with every surreptitious touch and wink that I received from the two interns when my doctor was distracted. From beneath my bed came another stand which when unfolded provided a purchase for my spread legs which soon were trembling from the strain caused by being anchored to the stand. One of the grinning interns even managed to situate himself in such a position as to allow him to have easy access to either of my private treasures. I was most encouraged by this demonstration, although I'm sure that my physician would not have been amused.

       My wrists were manacled firmly to the corners of the narrow bed. It obviously was not designed for long periods of deep sleep or even the pedestrian methods used in sexual activities. However in the latter case it would have to make do on many occasions, especially in the dark of night under the light of that all-seeing, unrelenting bulb dangling from the ceiling. My doctor kept her own counsel when it came to the light and its purpose. It did not take long for me to compile a long list of possible explanations for its use. There were many times when she would offer me some reward if I could successfully give her even one good reason for its existence. I always failed since I was unable to speak due to the large, red, rubber ball gag that threatened to unhinge my jaws. My failure would in turn allow her to take some small liberty on my bare body. Some examples will be described in later sections of this effort.

       Satisfied that I was secured properly, Lois proceeded to give me a more invasive examination with the two interns allowed to watch. She donned a latex glove and covered it with lubricant. The thought of that gloved hand disappearing up my cunt got a trickle of pussy juice started, a very good sign.

       "God Juliette, you are such a slut! I'll bet you're hoping that my hand will get you flowing like a fountain and from there it will only take a little more teasing for you to attain the holy grail. Well, that's not what will happen at all. I am in control, you are under my discipline and its time you realized what you signed up to do in exchange for what I offered to do in return. It's not a quid pro quo in the technical sense. It's you do something for me and then you do something more for me and then and then and then some more! Finally based on my judgment, the time will arrive when I shall do something for you. I just know you'll enjoy every second of it when it happens."

       This was not what I had wanted to hear from my lover and physician. Did she take advantage of me just like everyone else has? I certainly hoped not! Soon she was poking and prodding in the area where nurse Crocet and Specs had dueled, with the doctor declared the winner. I was still unable to feel anything but pressure in the region where he had injected what seemed like an ocean of opiates. When would it ever wear off? Almost as if she had read my mind, Lois beamed down at me and declared that within a few hours I'd be free of the effects from the injections. At that point I realized my sense of time had disintegrated badly. Was it still night or had the sun risen already? I had no clue. Then she looked down at her wrist and informed the interns that it was nearly time for them to go off shift. I took a guess and concluded that it was about daybreak, plus or minus an hour. From the looks on their dark faces, it was evident that I wouldn't be seeing them in a quasi-official capacity for quite some time.

       After a few more forays into my orifices and lots of mumbling and sighing, my doctor declared that except for my frozen, thread-covered face, the rest of me was in fairly good condition. I was relieved to hear that, but still eager to get cracking and pinch off a few orgasms. I was to discover it was proscribed for the present, doctor's orders. I was furious and then depressed. What was to become of me? Lois leaned forward and kissed me on the brow. I felt nothing, but that was not what she experienced. Her tongue flicked out and licked my open eye, the other now closed by the hideous surgery the surgeons had performed on my face. I was able to sense the texture of her tongue by the way the surface of my eye reacted; a small triumph for this wretched victim of love, lust and pain. Lois stood erect and announced that I needed some rest before the first battery of tests would be initiated. It was then that I had my first interaction with the overhead light.

       The trio was gone quickly, leaving me alone to rest. The only problem was I was wound too tightly to do anything but fret about my current situation. What would be done to restore my face? When would those damnable injections wear off to allow me to enjoy my body once more? I thought back to all the times I would get naked and play with myself, using memories of happier times or hopes for future times to excite me to the point I would squeeze off a nice orgasm or two. Being deprived of that ability made me quite nervous; being restrained made it even more difficult to concentrate on my sexual needs. I began to fantasize about those two black interns, were they hung like horses and eager to get at my goodies? Would I be able to enjoy what those big cocks could do to my aching cunt? Would they make me suck them when they were no longer able to deliver hard cock to my wet holes?

       I tossed and turned as much as my bonds would allow and became more agitated. I closed my eye against the glare of the light they had forgotten to extinguish, or so I thought. I would learn soon enough that this beacon against the darkness would remain lit around the clock. I quickly found out that the light was so intense that even closing my one good eye was not enough to free me from its pitiless glare. I must have dozed off despite that bright intruder, because suddenly I became aware that others were now occupying my small cubicle.

       Two women dressed in white smocks busied themselves connecting small metal pads to my body. They in turn were connected to that mysterious black box on the table by my narrow bed. I still had no feeling where it would do the most good, but other areas such as my feet, toes, legs, thighs, stomach and the like were soon part of the network of wires running into the box. They totally ignored me as they worked, not a word or glance to let me know they even acknowledged my existence. One of them fiddled with something at the back of the box and I felt a mild tingling in many areas of my body. I might add that there were a number of pads attached to my distorted face, and in some areas I felt the tingling, which gave me hope that my face might ultimately recover from this terrible trauma. Then without so much as a single word they left the room and I returned to my battle with the light.

       Exhaustion took hold and I slipped into darkness for a time. My dreams were disjointed and frightening. I awoke gasping for air and struggling against my restraints. As I thrashed around, helpless to overcome the bonds that held me fast to my bed, a small portion of my brain made the observation that my deadened cunt was making a recovery. I was elated! This realization acted almost like a sedative, calming my fears somewhat and putting me into a better frame of mind. I was still helpless and alone, for how long was unknown. Attempts to make sounds were halting, but since I had nothing better to do at the time, I continued my struggle to learn how to speak. It soon became apparent that part of the problem about speaking had to do with what had been done to my face. I could whisper but not control the sounds I made, words were out of the question. I was frustrated over my inability to use words as a means of communicating to anyone. How could I carry on an intelligent interaction with my doctor if I was unable to form words, let alone sentences! I was terrified at this handicap I faced.

       I have no idea how long I lay there frustrated and filled with fear about what the future might have in store for me. In a flash the sound of a key turning the lock to my "cubicle" was replaced by the sight of Lois Marquad-Snyder in her starched uniform accompanied by a female who was the token member of the Surgery Department. Lois introduced her to me as Dr. Roberta Dunne. I would spend a great deal of time with the surgeon over the next few weeks as she undid most of what the other cutters had done to my face. This was done not as charity but in exchange for my services, since it turned out that Roberta was of the lesbian persuasion. So now I had two mistresses to serve, which would prove to be quite demanding. The two doctors soon turned me into nothing but an interested third party, but that was the gist of it.

       "Well Roberta, care to give her the once over while I watch and take notes?"

       "That's an excellent plan. This one will need more than just a facial makeover. I've got lots of ideas, but first I want to check her bone structure and the texture of her skin. Once that's over then I want to look into her mouth and evaluate her tongue. Let's face it; the tongue can be critical when it comes to getting one's lover off. As you already know, I can relax and let you eat my pussy for hours without making me cum, but ten minutes of good tongue work will have me flooding the bed."

       I could do nothing but listen to their talk and hear the giggles that it sometimes created. I would give just about anything if someone went down on me for even ten minutes. I'd probably drown them! A few minutes later it happened, and it was wonderful! I felt doctor Dunne's knowing finger rubbing against the wet wall of my twat.

       "My, my, your little friend is reacting to my finger tip making contact. That's a good sign. Let's see what happens when I rub her clit?"

       I was trembling with anticipation, and the doctor seemed to be enjoying my reaction. She must have teased me for half a day it seemed; then she began to carefully stroke my clit, which was only beginning to come out of its stupor. My mind was in overdrive trying to develop a strategy that would keep her finger massaging my hot button just long enough for me to get off. She was too smart and quick for me. I was taken to the edge, and then drenched in ice-cold water that destroyed the mood. For that instant I wished her to die horribly, perhaps bursting into flame and screaming her lungs out as her skin melted and even the bones of my tormentor lost their rigidity.

       Over the next hour or so my body regained its sense of touch, at least I now knew when someone made contact with a part of my body. Doctor Dunne amused herself by making me suck her middle finger after she had used it to palpitate a portion of my anus. Try as I could it was impossible to make my mind sufficiently powerful to induce an orgasm by imagining I was sucking a big fat juicy cock. The doctor even went so far as it make her finger move in and out of my mouth in much the same fashion as a man's sex organ, still no luck. It was even worse when she began manipulating my tits, one at a time. She made the nipples get so hard that they were painful to the touch. Instead of orgasming when she bit down on that swollen teat, I experienced a rush of pain that made my pussy begin to juice. Once again she was way ahead of me, moving to another area of my bare body until I became somewhat calm, then resuming the slow teasing that was driving me half mad.

       All this time Lois watched with a small smile painted onto her calm face. I would have given a lot to know what was going through her mind as she watched doctor Dunne use me for her own nefarious purposes. At long last the surgeon was satisfied that my body was of the type that could benefit from her surgical skills. At that moment I would have been happy to give her almost anything I possessed for as long as she wanted it. When the two physicians celebrated by kissing passionately, I felt left out of the loop, which was exactly where I was. There was still more humiliation to endure before I was left to my own thoughts and the pitiless glare of the bulb that burned night and day.

       My blood turned to ice when I heard Lois announce that my clit was to be capped so that she had total control over me. Her companion smiled evilly and asked how this was to be done. Lois reached into her pocket and produced a small silvery object. She proceeded to explain how capping my clit was to occur. I was devastated by what I heard. This was worse than slavery. My prime sex organ was to be hers and hers only, except when she loaned it to the surgeon as payment for her work in restoring my face and body.

       First my clit would be excited to its full size by simple stroking with her fingers. Then a quick-setting plastic material would be activated and loaded into the silvery container. It was then placed over my clit and a pressure seal was formed which isolated the clit from any sensations and kept it at fever pitch. However there would be no way to induce an orgasm unless the plastic was removed from my clit. Only she had the solvent that would do the job. It was a short but extremely painful process that Lois was sure I would thoroughly enjoy. Once this was accomplished, my clit would be available for as much or little stimulation as my temporary owner would determine. How many temporary owners would there be? That was the question I wanted answered, but this evidently was not the time for that issue to be joined.

       The surgeon was still busy on my body despite the implication that they were nearly finished. Nothing could be further from the truth. She hefted my big tits and squeezed the nipples until they were stiff as glass. Still not satisfied, she captured one with her mouth and began suctioning it as if there was some chance that milk would flow. Lois was most amused and she joined the fun, twisting the other nipple to give me a mild jolt of pain, which I wanted to put to good use. It was not to be. My attention had been diverted when Lois joined the fun. Thus I was caught unaware when doctor Dunne bit down into the areola that surrounded the teat she had been mauling with her teeth. For a few brief seconds the pain level was better than anything I'd experienced for some time. In parallel I could feel my cunt becoming wet as my glands kicked in.

       "Dirty, dirty, dirty! How dare you become excited without my permission! You will be punished for this offense, but not in any way that might enhance your disobedience. Roberta, help me cap this unrepentant troublemaker! She has much to learn and there's no time like the present to begin her education."

       Neutralizing my fat, twitching clit was as advertised, most painful, but only for a few frustrating moments before the cement, as Lois called it, hardened. Now in point of fact I was effectively neutered if such a thing were possible for a pain slut like myself. Once more my clit was banished from the realm of sensitivity. Lois proved it by raking her fingernails across the region just below the silver cap that now imprisoned my hot button. My clit failed to react; I was mortified. Her companion, doctor Dunne, on the other hand was most impressed.

       There was more to endure and it came quickly. Roberta decided to sample my tongue in its present state, and based on her technical opinion would decide whether surgery was necessary. I nearly wet myself upon hearing her statement. I watched as she removed her skirt, and then rolled her rather pedestrian panties down to reveal a forest of pubic hair that rivaled what I used to possess. It took some help from Lois to allow her to climb onto my body and then position that jungle growth against my mouth. I was helpless to protect against what she intended. She dropped her crotch down onto my face and shifted her body to get maximum coverage. She leaned forward and ordered me to get busy satisfying her with my fat tongue.

       Between my less than sensitive tongue and her jungle of springy, pubic hair it was a fiasco. My test lasted less than a few minutes and for my reward she shifted her weight to give easy access to my skull. Her blows were piston-like and they came in rhythm, each delivered with a great deal of force. All I could do was take the cruel punishment, which was not sufficiently brutal to kick my other erogenous zones into activity. Finally she tired and the storm passed for the moment. I realized I had unwittingly made an enemy and one that could cause me a great deal of grief in the coming weeks and even months. 

                       (To be continued - lex ludite)

Juliette the Super Tramp - Chapter 16

       That very evening I welcomed my first visitors, but alas they may have enjoyed what they did, but I derived no pleasure and a great deal of frustration. The evidence was plain to see and the nurse who checked on my progress was quick to indicate on my chart that I had been involved in sexual congress with a number of men that previous night. My now distant health care provider breezed in some hours later, took one look at the chart and proceeded to read me the riot act as if I was under any control of the situation.

       " Despite everything, you remain an unreconstructed whore; one that does not merit my attention or concern. I am turning you over to my colleague, Dr. Dunne in hopes that her approach can jolt you from this death spiral you currently seem to be enjoying. I am very disappointed in you and it will take a considerable effort on your part to get back into my good graces."

       With those scathing words she temporarily ended our relationship and flounced out the door, leaving me at the mercy of Dr. Dunne who I knew would make me suffer the torments of the damned and perhaps even beyond, considering my proclivities for pain and sex. The good doctor wasted no time asserting herself. Less than thirty minutes after losing my guide and confidant she made her first move.

       A burly black orderly accompanied by a heavyset nurse in her mid fifties paid me a visit. In normal times I would have ignored the nurse and attacked the black man and his huge cock, promising him the ride of his life for as long as he wanted. Alas, I was in no condition for any fun and games. These two proved to be a humorless pair, the orderly unlocking the bonds holding my legs to the bed corners, while the nurse got busy preparing an enema for yours truly, the first of what would prove to be many; more than I could count or remember. Soon my ankles were anchored to the same bed supports as my wrists, a rather uncomfortable position especially considering that the sex act was not to be involved.

       Staring into that bright light for hours on end had made my vision rather blurred, so I wasn't sure exactly what that large, bulging red bag contained. The bag hung from some kind of a stand on wheels that was rolled over to my bed by the orderly. The nurse leaned over and whispered that the contents of this enema would take most of the fight and insubordination from me. In the event that it didn't, I'd take another and then another until she was satisfied that I had calmed down and would cease to be a troublemaker. I was astonished to hear these words. What trouble could I cause securely restrained to this bed? Obviously I was about to get my first lesson in humility, regardless of what I was told by this harridan. I sighed and waited for my lesson to begin, wondering if there would be a pop quiz afterward.

       In my life as a pain slut I've had opportunities to take the waters as the enema fans like to describe the process. The type of pain is rather sophisticated if the one administering the enema knows his or her stuff. The contents are the major factor in getting off on this esoteric form of abuse. Great care has to be observed in selecting what goes into the bag and how much goes inside the one taking the waters. Some I took resulted in making me act as if I was wired for sound, not a bad description. Others gave me intense hangovers as alcohol can be rapidly absorbed into the blood stream by use of an enema. Once I was foolish enough to allow a recreational drug I'd never used previously to be part of a huge enema I took and held for the better part of an hour while a number of men with large sex organs took turns warping my cunt. I had flashbacks for weeks and seemed to be living in some kind of a large spider's web the entire time.

       This background has made me rather leery of what goes into any enema I take, even ones given by professionals in a hospital environment such as this one. Unfortunately the large rubber ball gag that was my constant companion prevented me from interrogating the nurse preparing the punishment bag. Thus I hoped for the best and planned for the worst. It turned out to be closer to the latter condition.

       My estimate of the situation argued that it would be almost impossible to avoid providing me with some delicious pain. So I lay back, as if there was any other choice, and waited for the first wave of pain to be generated by whatever was in that big red bag. For what seemed like the longest time it was a standstill. My belly was swelling nicely and it was beginning to get a bit difficult to take a deep breath. On my scorecard I was winning. My nurse-administrator gave me a quick grimace disguised as a smile and abruptly stopped the flow, leaving me hanging. At a signal from her the orderly produced a bedpan and I was allowed to evacuate, much to my disappointment. The routine went through a second cycle and the same result occurred, making me most frustrated. I was so busy plotting and scheming for another chance that I failed to notice what the nurse added to the bag this time.

       Dry ice or frozen carbon dioxide if you're into technical terms is extremely cold; so cold that it can burn the skin right off one's body if you come in direct contact with it. That was item that my dear old caring nurse added to the enema bag. The water began to bubble furiously as the two elements fought for control of the enema bag. You can only imagine what happened when this bubbling mess was introduced into my lower intestine. All hell broke loose, and it wasn't pretty. The battle was waged at a much greater differential this time, my body being a large source of heat. The sensations were fantastic and very frightening. It felt as if there were micro-midgets trapped in my lower bowel using tiny hammers on the walls of my intestines.

       The feeling grew as the battle for supremacy escalated. I began sweating from fear, no perhaps more like terror. Would it be possible for this chemical activity to rupture my insides leading to a horrible death? I wished I could close my eyes and wish this all away, but such was not the case. I pleaded for mercy with my one good eye, winking it as a signal. My enemy merely laughed and pumped up the sleeve preventing the gas from escaping from my bowels. At last just as I started to make my peace with whatever made me, she relented. My opponent had won the battle overwhelmingly and all this pain slut could do was hand over her weapons, such as they were and hope for the best. It was a crushing defeat for me. Fear triumphs over pain, a new paradigm.

       A second dry ice enema sealed my fate despite the fact that I had experienced it once and lived to tell about it. My jailer-nurse-torturer went out of her way to give me the full treatment. First there was the wild bubbling and rising gas exploding from the top of the enema bag. I watched in fascination mixed with fear as she inserted the thick nozzle into my anus and pumped up the collar that would prevent it from being expelled. My signaling was ignored this time. I was horrified to see that she and the orderly were engaged in a conversation and no one was tending to the enema bag that was inflating from all the gas that was being generated.

       Then she did a terrible thing. With tongs she picked up a good-sized piece of dry ice and added it to the frothing enema bag. I capitulated and signaled my utter and absolute defeat by wetting the bed upon which I was restrained. The orderly was not amused and I paid a penalty here and now and later a much sterner punishment quite late in the evening when no one of rank was around to make sure that nothing exceptional was being done to troublemakers such as myself. In a sense my penalty was almost an example of poetic justice. What better way to make me pay for this serious breach of decorum than to force me to ingest the contents of the bedpan that captured my second voiding? My nurse was delighted to witness my utter degradation. Her only regret was that Dr. Dunne wasn't here to witness it as well. It didn't help matters to have that awful ball gag stuffed back into my mouth. Now I had a new fear for concern.

       What happens if I lose my composure and begin trying to vomit up the contents of my bulging belly? My nurse grinned evilly and answered that probably I'd become another sad accident for the hospital's files. I was petrified! Then she added the saving argument that she was going to administer an IV of a strong diuretic to make sure I speedily eliminated the waste products they fed to me. She promised to look in on me in another hour or two to see how I was progressing. What she deliberately forgot to mention was that my catheter was closed and would remain in that position until she checked in on me just before the end of her shift. I was so screwed it was embarrassing! She and the orderly departed leaving me to marinate in my own wastes. Another orderly would get this assignment and I hoped that he'd lose his temper over this injustice and give me a nice chunk of pain to chew and swallow.

       In my brief life as a pain slut and all round whore I'd had occasion to allow my partner or partners the opportunity to torture my bladder and surrounding environs. Few had anything original to do to the poor organ except to see how much it could be expanded and for how long. My screams and general deportment were always used as a guide. Some preferred to use catheters to inject whatever mixture they had dreamed up for my bladder to contain. I had a hard and fast rule on that matter. I would have to sample the contents to determine if it could be allowed into my bladder. You'd be astonished at some of the liquids they offered for me to taste. Others liked to make me swallow large amounts of water, tea or coffee to get my kidneys churning and while they were churning they'd use the time to beat the devil out of me with a rubber hose or cane, depending upon their mood and how much punishment I'd already absorbed in the session. I always enjoyed that type of torture since there was always something to further anticipate once they tired of beating me like a drum. The absolute best was when my bladder was filled to capacity and my back teeth were floating while some stud with a huge cock was fucking me so hard and fast my eyes crossed. That was fun with a capital F.

       To say I was uncomfortable would be an understatement. My bladder had reached its limit some time ago and my kidneys were straining to handle the regular plus the back flow. The old hag grinned and pressed her hand on my bulging bladder, bringing a long drawn out groan from behind the rubber ball gag that was covered with my drool.

       " The orderly who'll come to change your bedding is less than enchanted with your behavior and I'd imagine he'll have a few choice comments to make to you and perhaps more if I know him. I'll see you tomorrow that is if you survive the night. My counterpart, nurse Wilson, runs a rather loose ship if you get my drift. There are all sorts of comings and goings on her shift. I'm sure you'll be visited by a number of people you have never seen before, but in time you'll remember each one including his nickname. My favorite is "cunt crusher", it's so crude and yet so very accurate based on the number of female patients that have required emergency treatment after one of his visits."

       She turned to leave the room and I went a little bonkers. I tried everything I knew to get her attention. My nurse had forgotten to open the catheter, or perhaps decided that a few more hours of punishment were mandated. I'd never survive such treatment. The door to my room shut behind her leaving me with the realization that my kidneys might fail in time or allow uremic acid from my backed up waste to get into my blood stream, tantamount to serious damage or even death. My only hope now was the orderly who might show up at any time and possibly assist me in my hour of need. By the time he arrived, a large black man with a scar on one cheek, I was nearly insane from fear. I looked up at his stern face with my one good eye that was now blurred from staring at that damned light. I moved my body as much as the bonds would allow and prayed for relief to any god that might hear me.

       " You the dame that likes to pee in her bed and expect old Nathan to clean it up? This the last time you do this to old Nathan. Next time you gonna hurt real bad and nobody gonna know except me and you, and you ain't gonna be able to talk after old Nathan stuffs them piss soaked sheets down your stupid white girl throat. You know what I said or do I have to hurt you where it ain't gonna show? "

       Part of me was petrified with fear at his threats, but most of me wanted him to do his worst. I'd take whatever it was as long as the pain level was high and continuous, none of this pat on the butt and sin no more crap! This white girl was ready for the real thing and plenty of it. He reached in his pocket and out came the keys to my manacles. Secretly I was hoping for a rubber hose to go with his bad attitude. He shook his finger at me like I was a naughty schoolgirl and warned me of the consequences of disobeying him while he changed the bedding. By now I was so used to being naked that I'd almost forgot how to entice a man with my big tits, shaved pussy, round ass and willing smile. I turned myself on like a big electric light bulb and got no response, as my target was too busy changing the sheets that sort of embarrassed me all over again.

       By the time there were fresh sheets on my bed, I was hopping up and down from one foot to the other thanks to my bloated bladder. Old Nathan had made sure I wasn't going anywhere by cuffing my hands behind my back and threatening to ruin me for life if I tried to escape from the room. Finally took pity on me once I was on my back, wrists and ankles once more attached by metal cuffs to the bed. I heaved a sigh of relief as the orange colored piss from my bladder began flowing into the collection bottle. All was once more right with the world. Nathan headed for the door leaving me to cope with the damned light bulb. Just before he unlocked the door he turned and grinned.

       " Me and some friends will be seeing you later on this night. Hope you ready for it, cause it's gonna hurt and hurt bad. "

       At long last, I could hardly wait for my pain and sex fix. Maybe this place wouldn't be so bad after all?

                            (To be continued - lex ludite)

         

                                     Juliette the Super Tramp - Chapter 17

       The possibility of getting a pain and sex fix excited me no end. I was like a little child waiting for Santa to arrive with a bag of gifts for me. The fact that I'd not been fed any solid food since my arrival at the hospital began to sink into my consciousness. Had Lois, that traitor, decreed that I was to lose weight before she deigned to have anything to do with my worthless self? It was a distinct possibility, but not one worth obsessing upon yet. A few hours later I received a brief visit from another starched emissary of this institution who closed my catheter with a knowing smirk and slowly inserted two fingers into my quickly moistening cunt and moved them around for a brief moment before withdrawing them and licking her fingers clean. Was I the only non-lesbian in this hospital? She winked at me and fluttered her tongue before turning and taking her leave.

       It was difficult to keep time without a clock, especially buried deep within the bowels of this large building. Very soon I would discover that there were many more levels below where I was situated. While waiting, my sex crazed mind started imagining scenarios for what was going to happen once those orderlies lined up to tear off a piece of my ass or twat and then made me beg and go crazy with lust. Would they take me one at a time? I prayed to the gods for understanding and mercy. After all, I'd been sexually deprived for more than twenty-four hours. Just how cruel could the gods be? No, I'd be simultaneously skewered front and back by those huge black cocks that stretched my cunt and asshole to dimensions I'd never imagined. Even that was less than I was capable of handling at the same time. Why not another cock, abrading the lining from my gullet until my throat was plugged solid, cutting off my air supply? Oh what fun that might be!

       My musings were rudely interrupted by the arrival of the night nurse, flanked by two robust orderlies, black as night and just as frightening to this little white girl, who was juicing shamelessly as they approached. They removed my fetters and placed me on a gurney, taking advantage of my nudity to pinch and prod my bare body as they mumbled and chuckled to each other. I was beginning to get more excited and this got my nurse's attention. The orderlies flipped me onto my stomach and slapped the cuffs on my wrists and ankles before binding them together with rope. Evidently this was the accepted way of handling the main course of the sex orgy that was to follow. I could hardly wait!

       They rolled my gurney down the long corridor and then into an elevator. The men joked and slapped my rump as we dropped a number of floors before opening to darkness. It was surprisingly chilly at this level and I began shaking, which brought laughter from my escorts. The nurse, Wilson was her name, leaned over and told me not worry about being cold. What was waiting for me would get me hot, very hot indeed. Then added that it was too bad I wouldn't be able to properly enjoy what I'd be getting. That was not what I wanted to hear. We traversed another long corridor and then through a set of doors into a large, well lit room occupied by a gang of black men, some dressed, other stripped and ready for action. I could hardly wait for the fun to begin; the nurse's words had flown from my mind at the sight of all this man meat ready for action.

       Nurse Wilson proved most forceful when it came to controlling the troops. She identified a trio of men, one naked the others dressed, as being responsible for transferring the "meat", me, to the chopping block. It was a gynecological examination table modified to allow the patient or victim to be ass-fucked, face-fucked, tit-fucked and fucked conventionally all at the same time if the players weren't too overweight. I could hardly wait to find out how much cock I could hold at once. Then she started whittling away at my pleasure before the pleasuring even began. The trio had cranked the table into the all out position, my thighs spread wide, arms back over my head, and legs up and out to allow access to my butt hole. Thick leather straps had been used to immobilize me for the slaughter that was to come.

       I wondered why that damned ball gag was still in my mouth. No way a man could face-fuck me with that big red ball getting in the way. Then nurse Wilson answered my unasked question. She produced an atomizer and had one of the men hold my head steady while she shoved the nozzle up one nostril, sprayed something from it, and repeated the process on the other nostril. It tingled for a few seconds and then my nose dried up like a drop of water in the desert at high noon. Next my throat felt dry, very dry as the spray's contents dried up all the moisture in that area as well. While all this was occurring, the ball gag was released from my mouth so it too could be sprayed. I struggled at bit, but a hand tried to twist off one of my ears for my trouble.

       My mouth took another dose of whatever was in that atomizer and it went from dry to parched, including my tongue. That turned out to be only step one in preparing me for what was to come or was it cum? For the very first time I saw a smile crease the round, dark face of nurse Wilson as she held up a monster sized hypodermic needle. I closed my one good eye and prayed that she wasn't going to use it on my tongue. Then she injected its contents into my tongue and I got a quick pain rush that didn't last long enough for me to pinch off even a tiny orgasm. It wiped out all feeling in my tongue in a matter of a half a minute or less. To check out my status, the nurse yanked my tongue out of my mouth and stretched it further than it should be able to go. I felt absolutely nothing. From the look on my antagonist's face, she was happy with the results. Somehow I knew what was to follow and she didn't disappoint me.

       The nozzle of the atomizer was inserted deep into my cunt and after a lengthy spraying, left my fuck tunnel numb. This was followed by a number of injections with the big hypodermic that finished my twat as a source of sexual excitement for me. Nurse Wilson had a line of eager and anxious customers waiting to fuck me silly, but she took her sweet time making sure everything was in order before turning them loose on my bound, bare body. The nasty nurse was a stickler for details and so my asshole got the same treatment as my cunt, cutting off my last great hope for a sexual high. She did give me one good jolt of pure unadulterated pain by shooting my perineum without any preliminary numbing. I nearly came, but my capped clit once more let me down. Still not finished, the black nurse proceeded to give me double doses from that huge needle for each tit, going through the nipple and into the chest wall behind each of my big, fat bags. I would like to think that in this case she deliberately let me have one good taste of pain before turning the animals loose on me.

       I have little recollection of most of the things that were done to me, since most of my major erogenous zones had been effectively eliminated prior to the assault on my person. I would sum it up as one part fear, one part frustration and one part boredom. My assailants were what I'd mostly describe as meat and potatoes types. The fear part came from those who decided to use my mouth and then graduated to my gullet. Remember, I could not feel anything expect pressure. In cases where my sex partner pumped away inside my gullet and eventually flooded it with his cum, it was lack of air that I recognized and to which I reacted. This was a terrible error on my part since it attracted more of them to repeat this hideous treatment that made my heart try to leap from my chest as things became dark and I teetered on the edge of losing consciousness, perhaps forever.

       Sometimes I relieved the boredom by watching very closely as a big black cock sawed away between my numbed tits and ended each stroke inside my mouth. I'd try to estimate how long it would take before he splattered his seed into my face or onto my tits. Once my good eye took a blast from close range and I was effectively blind for quite some time, which was most frustrating since I couldn't feel what was happening to me. Since most of the time my view of things was blocked by a body, I had little idea about what was going on below where most of the action was taking place. It was possible to get a hint about the activity by the amount of weight that settled down on my lower body. Most of my "lovers" took very little time to achieve their goal on our first date. But as time passed and their appetites started to be satisfied, the time they took down below lengthened significantly.

       Toward the end of the session it seemed that only the more acrobatic members of the gangbang were interested in what was left of me. The first good look I got showed that the traffic in and out of my cunt had been heavy based on the amount of dried semen covering my groin and even parts of my thighs. A large black man was busy trying to stretch my asshole with a thick chunk of meat that I would have loved to entertain under normal circumstances. He had a mean look to him as well which got me to thinking about what he might do to me if he had me all to himself. That in turn reminded me that my clit was still capped and out of service. My partner grunted and yanked his twitching cock from my ruined asshole and clambered up so he could stick it down my throat and drown me in cum. He never made it, losing his load on my belly and finishing on my tits that were already crusted with a thick layer of dried cum. Shortly thereafter the first pair of acrobats took the stage and drew a good sized audience of half naked men.

       The table on which I was restrained was modified by cranking a few of the many handles located below the platform. They started their performance with a classic double penetration, their cocks moving like pistons as they sawed away inside of my lower orifices. After a few minutes they changed places and went back to work on stretching my cunt and asshole that were already fairly distended after hours of steady fucking. The men started to boo and call for them to get on with the show. The pair wasted no time responding. One straddled me at the waist and reached down to use my body to stabilize him. His partner knelt and worked his cock into my cunt inch by inch as the audience shouted for more. Then his partner swooped down and plunged his cock into my cunt just as the other was out except for the bulbous head still lodged inside me. Now they went to work like two pistons, one always moving opposite to the other's movement. I could distinctly feel added pressure being applied to my insides by this team. I couldn't help but wonder how much better it would feel if the damned drugs hadn't been used to numb my cunt. Their grand finale featured a double splashing of cum into my good eye, nearly blinding me for life.

       There remained more to come. This time my two partners announced that it was my turn to experience the thrill and agony of a double anal penetration. This did nothing to calm my nerves, having heard of this exotic method for satisfying the most disinterested women and turning them into sex fiends that could never get enough from that moment until the end of their lives. Too bad I wasn't able to enjoy the adventure. I was so tired and wired that it took me a while before I realized one of my new partners was none other than Nathan. My blood ran cold as I remembered his threat. Then it dawned on me that he could do his worst and I wouldn't be able to feel it anyway. So much for Nathan, or at least that was what I was telling myself. Once again the table was reconfigured for the next act of madness.

       I got a good look at Nathan's equipment and my bravado disappeared quickly. Old Nathan was hung like a horse, a large horse. I got the shock of my life when nurse Wilson shrugged out of her starched white uniform to reveal a set of tits that made mine look like bee stings. I could also see a jungle of thick pubic hair trying to escape the confines of her white cotton panties. She was going to seed, but there still was plenty of good stuff hanging from her solid bones. I started to get an itch about this large black woman, one that would be scratched sooner than I could even imagine. Everyone seemed to enjoy watching the nurse suck Nathan's big cock into monster size. Later she would confess that Nathan was her brother and they'd been fucking for over forty years almost nonstop. She bragged that Nathan still preferred her to most women, no matter the age or color.

       Nathan's partner was no slouch in the size department either. I began to start praying that my asshole would be able to handle these meat monsters without rupturing. For once in my life I was glad not having any sense of feeling. While Nathan's partner worked his joint into my asshole, Nathan amused himself by seeing how much of his giant cock I could cram in my mouth. It was a major mismatch made worse by the blockage of air that its presence caused. I began hoping that I might pass out and end the session. Old Nathan proved to be a wily opponent, watching my ruined face for color changes or other signs that I was about to pass out. Then he'd back off just a wee bit to allow me to catch my breath, and then back in his cock would go like a python searching for prey. Only once did he try to force that huge hunk of meat down my gullet. I now knew how much I loved life and how desperately I wanted to continue breathing and fucking, not necessarily in that order. Nathan had broken me and we both knew it. I was for all extents and purpose his slave as long as I was in that hospital.

       My attention had been solely focused on Nathan, so I barely noticed that his partner had managed to slip his cock deep into my asshole. Only his movements and the slight additional pressure in my colon gave me the knowledge that a visitor had arrived. When Nathan approached, every eye in the place was on the big man. For his size he proved to be quite lithe, climbing on the table and positioning himself for the first attempt at splitting me open like a rotted gourd. I steeled myself for the worst and received a brief surprise. It was the whistles that made me understand that somehow, someway Nathan had joined his partner inside my asshole and I still lived.

       Then the movement of the two took center stage and the pressure on my colon was overwhelming. For a moment I panicked, fearing that soon my asshole's sphincter would rupture and I'd be the owner of a blown out asshole. The pair continued to push and make very small gains that was transmitted to me via the changes in pressure within my lower intestine. How my sphincter ever withstood the pressure applied to it by these two cocksmen was a miracle. Later I learned that had they backed out and then put everything they could muster into pushing, my asshole would indeed have blown, but that would bring the wrath of the doctors down on everybody involved. No one wanted to lose what was a fairly well paying job with some very interesting fringe benefits. Thus I survived my first but not last gangbang at the hospital. There still remained one more event to take place before I could once more lie in my bed and stare with one eye at the eternal light bulb over my bed.

       Nurse Wilson got me back to my room with hours to spare. She dismissed the orderlies once they had shackled me to the bed again. I was bone weary and still waiting for the various drugs I'd been given to wear off. My nurse decided to spend some quality time with me to make sure all was well. I watched as she disrobed entirely this time. I knew what that meant and for some odd reason I was excited at the prospect of eating out nurse Wilson's hairy crotch. She must have sensed my enthusiasm for a little girl-girl. The bed creaked erotically as she mounted my spread-eagled body and got comfortable with her muff glued tightly to my open mouth. Almost on cue, my sense of taste began to return. To celebrate I attacked her cunt mouth with an enthusiasm that took her by surprise. In no time at all my tongue was in turbo mode and gobbling some juicy black gash for all I was worth.

       To say I was motivated would be an understatement. The memory of my black nurse sucking Nathan's huge cock and readying it for my tight asshole was emblazoned into my consciousness. The more I sucked, licked and smooched that dripping cunt the tastier she became as my senses returned completely. She took a break and sat back on her heels, keeping her juicy pussy inches from my straining tongue.

       " You are one crazy sexy lady and I love it! I'm gonna do my best to make sure they keep you until at least your tongue falls off. Now get that mouth busy and get me off this time; I haven't got all morning to fool with you."

       Her challenge got my juices stirring and my response took her off guard. Her fat clit fell victim to my assault that did everything but swallow it whole. She was my bitch right now and I was going to make the most of it. I took her to the mountain and let her see sparks and rainbows before hurling that big, black body into the abyss. She screamed all the way down and I got a mouthful of pussy juice that was as strong as any I'd ever tried. My mind started to wander, seeking the answers to other questions involving her asshole, armpits and those enormous tits with the big fat nipples that now were hard as steel. Nurse Wilson had gotten a lot more than she planned and so she backed off and made an orderly retreat making sure that I knew she would be back and more than eager for another round of what I had just delivered. She left and I tried to blot out the sight of that light bulb. To my amazement a deep sleep took me away from this madhouse until I was aroused for another long day at this strange place.

                             (To be continued - lex ludite)

                                 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)

Juliette the Super Tramp - Chapter 19

       My mind was so active it almost hurt to think. I was trying to handle so many conflicting thoughts at once that it all became a jumble. Where was I going? Would it be a nice lengthy gangbang with all the trimmings and yours truly playing the part of the Thanksgiving turkey, all trussed and ready for the eating? Perhaps some kind and gentle surgeon was about to repair my eye or perhaps both so I could see what was coming before it arrived? Had my wannabe lover, Dr. Marquad-Snyder, come to rescue me from the hands of those who were scandalized by my gargantuan appetites when it came to sex and pain? Would it be something bad, an attempt to wean me from the life I had grown to understand and love? All of the above were possible and many more to boot. Whether it be good or bad, it would be something new and exciting, of that I was certain.

       We went into an elevator and ascended for some time as my excitement grew. What new activity would involve me this time? Out of the elevator we went and now were rolling down a long hallway. My boon companions had been silent for the entire trip to date, which troubled me somewhat. Had they spoken to each other, I might have been able to piece together enough information to make a good guess at what was going to transpire once we arrived at our destination. We stopped for a few moments and then moved into a large space based on the way things echoed. There is much truth that the loss of one sense usually makes the others more acute. My ears were picking up a variety of new sounds that indicated there were many people, most of them moving from one spot to another. Of interest I could not make out any words, it was as if the room was filled with cotton, effectively muffling whatever was being transmitted from one person to the other. Another sound that I could pick up from the muffled background noise was a random metallic clinking. Still I was unable to figure out where and for what purpose I had been taken to this place.

       Suddenly there were hands on my bare body, freeing me of my chains for a moment and then lifting me into the air for a brief period of time before depositing me upon a flat surface that had some give to it. At last I heard some words that made sense. A still slightly muffled male voice directed my handlers to strap me down to the table and make sure I was held fast before he began "carving me up." In a flash I understood everything, or so I thought. I'd been transported to an operating room and was about to have surgery. Two things went through my mind at roughly the same instant. My eye and perhaps even my face might be returned to normal, and in the process I would enjoy the pain that came with the process. Then the voice spoke directly to me and my blood turned to ice and I was unable to draw breath, so great was the shock from his words.

       "My dear Juliette, it's so nice to meet you in the flesh in a more disciplined environment, so to speak. You are here at the behest of your doctor. Lois and I have arranged a liaison that allows us both to alter your somewhat unruly personality in ways that will yield a more acceptable companion for each of us. I am not at all sure that you will enjoy becoming the person we wish you to be, but you are not in any position to thwart us. Today you will take that first giant step toward a rebirth, one that might prove to be most painful for you. That will be your burden to shoulder. Now let us begin overhauling you, a process that will be rather benign at first, but later you may very well wish that you had died on the table. Now let's get busy. Doctor, will you start the anesthetic. Now Juliette, I want you to count backward from one hundred."

       I never made it to ninety-nine, which is normal. However in that brief moment of consciousness I realized my dear doctor and lover wannabe had sold me to the highest bidder for her nefarious intentions. While I was under, my mind generated all manner of outcomes for me, none of them acceptable. Would I awaken still blind and perhaps deaf and dumb as well? Would I become thrall for the surgeon, or worse still something upon which he could practice his skill? Perhaps I would become his private torture and sex toy, subject to his whims that might include removing my clitoris as I lay unconscious, suturing the entrance to my cunt to prevent me from enjoying normal sex, and even cutting out most of my bowels so I would spend the rest of my miserable life wearing a colostomy bag protruding from my belly or side. I'm sure that would make me very appealing to any potential sex partner, especially the perverted ones.

       I have no idea how long I was under, but gradually I came out of the fog that surrounded me into a new world. The pain was overwhelming! It felt as if there were a group of midgets in my skull pounding away with their little hammers. My attempts to sit up were unsuccessful, probably because I was naked and manacled to the corners of the bed upon which I was restrained. I also was still blind and the region around my "good" eye hurt like fury. Evidently for reasons that were unknown to me, the eye was now sutured shut. Then it hit me like a runaway freight train, the pain hurt, it hurt like the fires of hell, but there was no pleasure attached to it anymore! What had that monster done to me? For a time I descended into the hell of uncertainty. Was this just some temporary condition, perhaps brought on by the anesthetic or a slip of the scalpel or....? The more I tried to convince myself this was just something temporary, the more depressed I became.

       To prevent myself from going quite mad, I tried to concentrate on why my good eye, at least it was once, had been sewn shut. Had he operated on my eye and was now letting it heal before allowing it to react to light and function as it once had? Had he done both eyes by any chance? That would be marvelous, two for the price of one, but then reality set in on me once more and the lengthening shadows crept into my mind and sent it spinning downward once again. While all this was taking place, the level of pain in my head grew steadily. I gave into my fears and began thrashing against my metal bonds to no avail. I tried to scream and then realized that my vocal cords weren't working either. Then I gave into my worst fears, everything I was experiencing was caused purposefully by that master, or was it monster, of the scalpel. What senses had he allowed me to retain? I was blind, dumb and in constant pain. If only the pain would trigger my sex organs to blot out the unvarnished agony I was experiencing. It wasn't fair! All the while my legs and arms were flexing and failing to free me from my bonds. Why wasn't at least? Just how callous could the hospital staff be?

       I was so busy with myself that my visitor was upon me before I knew she was there. Her hand stroked my fevered brow and my lover wannabe, Dr. Lois Marquad-Snyder, announced her presence by running her sharp fingernails across my big tits that became aroused quickly. However in an instant she introduced me to more of the new type of pain, a turncoat that I would learn to fear and abhor. She captured one of my stiff nipples and squeezed it mercilessly before giving it a twist that took my breath away and made the hair on my body stand at attention. I could hear her low throaty laugh, but was unable to communicate my feelings to her. She was close enough to lick my cheek and give my lips a nip as well. Then she backed away and began to explain what had happened to me on the table and why she arranged for it to occur.

       "Juliette, you are such a tramp. You are insatiable and lack judgment when it comes to your sex partners. I finally had to admit there was no reasonable way for the two of us to have a serious adult relationship due to your enormous appetite for things sexual. I would be just another number in the list of conquests, a number that you could not even name correctly. Then there was the matter of your aberrant behavior when it came to sex and pain. I could not tolerate the way you offer yourself to anyone with the urge to physically harm you, provided it sets off that nasty sexual response that lurks within your makeup. So after many, long, sleepless nights I decided to take action in hope of breaking that chain connecting sex with pain."

       "Today the first step in the process has been taken thanks to the talent of my dear friend and former lover, Dr. Damian Pincherton, an extremely gifted surgeon, who is often motivated by his love for causing pain. I'll bet that would have had you dripping before your little operation, but I detect a little fear in your reaction to what I just did to your little nipple. You had better get used to pain because you will be getting it in large doses and quite often as well. To be candid I've always been jealous of those fat bags of flesh dangling from your chest. Now I'll have a chance to vent my anger on them, and you'll soon learn that pain is not something you want to encounter."

       "By the way you should know that your long hair is now a thing of the past. Operations involving the brain usually require the removal of the patient's hair. I was allowed to witness the entire procedure and it did make me wet when the drill was used to bore a hole in your skull so the surgeon could get at the area that needed attention. Normally after such an operation you would remain sedated for many days, but in your case the sooner you learned about unadorned pain, the better for all concerned. Enjoy your recuperation, Dr. Pincherton will be visiting you quite soon and you should expect a great deal of pain and suffering. Consider it as merely a down payment for his services. There are many more operations in your future and most will be done with you conscious and free from anesthetics that would deprive you of experiencing the reality of pain."

       Her fond farewell included her fingers burrowing into my dry cunt, twisting and turning to provide the maximum stimulation. Despite my depression and fear, when she withdrew those digits and pressed them to my sore, cracked lips, they were wet with my pussy juice. I thanked the gods for their mercy just before she cruelly pinched and stretched the flesh surrounding my capped clit, a reminder of my near impotence. I didn't even hear her leave, as I was so focused on my own body and the way it was responding to things these days. My attention was now diverted to preparing myself for Dr. Pincherton's visit, which I knew would not be pleasant.

       He arrived a few eternities later and proved to be exactly as advertised by my former physician and confidant. The pokes and prods he delivered seemed to be to evaluate my pain threshold and levels. My responses were new to me and even I had no idea where the new levels were. When he palpitated my big tits with their hard nipples he snorted and spoke a few nasty words hinting strongly that more brain surgery might be in order to tame my sexual appetites to a more benign level. It was as if only my body was here, my mind having departed for another dimension.

       When those long surgeon's fingers began tweaking my stiff nipples I could feel my cunt getting wet despite my dire situation. My cunt began oozing when he started to massage my big tits. I felt a reaction beginning down deep inside my throbbing twat. He laughed, an icy warning that all was not well for me. Those strong hands began squeezing my tits, first one, and then the other. My boiler was getting mad hot and only a few degrees below what was needed to get me off with a vengeance. Alas, he was synchronized with my reactions and knew just what to do to defeat my objective. He slapped my tits hard, one two, one two, one two, each time the blows were harder. At first they were just stings and now it was as if a tree limb was beating them to a pulp.

       The pain was growing and growing and there was nothing I could do to prevent him from continuing. Suddenly with a vicious blow of his fist to the region between my big battered tits the beating stopped, but not the pain. Worse still the blow had somehow paralyzed my chest muscles preventing me from breathing. I was in a panic and that only made things worse. He was laughing and yanking my nipples to their limits as he watched me dying from the terrible blow to my chest. My struggles lessened as my lust for air increased, only putting more of a strain on my heart and weakening my physical strength. Then it got dark and there was nothingness.

       I awoke with an oxygen mask on my face and low voices discussing my condition. I recognized both doctors and realized my death had been postponed for at least a few more hours. Some movements to check on the general condition of my body led to the discovery that my body was still fettered and my eyes still were not operating. It was the voice of the surgeon that got my attention. He was arguing that more minor surgery was in order based on what he had already seen from my reactions. They batted some "doctor speak" back and forth for a time before finally agreeing that the connective tissue connecting my breasts to my pectoral muscles should be severed and my clit be uncapped in order that it be made much more sensitive. Once this was accomplished my education could go forward at full speed. What all that meant was overwhelmed by the words "uncap my clit and increase its sensitivity". I was in ecstasy; oh boy, oh joy!

       To celebrate this decision my two doctors took different paths. Unable to see, all I could do was hear, smell and feel. My ears picked up the sound of clothing being removed, interrupted by moans and groans and what sounded like kisses, lengthy ones at that. Suddenly my bed had a second occupant and it was Lois Marquad-Snyder who joined me, still sporting a massive patch of thick, springy, pubic hair that was being planted onto my face. I inhaled her scent to gauge just how horny she was and my meter went off scale. Wasting no time, my tongue wiggled into her juicing fuck box and began mining the treasures it uncovered. My own pussy was doing its best to match the output of my former wannabe lover. Lois was at an advantage, having my agile tongue and expertise when it came to girl-girl couplings working for her benefit.

       I was so busy feeding off Dr. Marquad-Snyder's intense desire for an orgasm that Dr. Pincherton had fallen off my radar. Suddenly there was this enormous blip at the center of the screen demanding my attention. The surgeon had arrived bearing pain and punishment that under normal times would have been welcomed with no questions asked. That was then this was now; the climate had changed dramatically. Without warning my burgeoning swamp turned into an arid desert, compliments of the good surgeon who had sprayed something into my cunt that brought back very recent, unpleasant memories. My ears pricked up at his almost maniacal laughter. Being warned did nothing to help me become prepared. To add to the misery coefficient, Lois clamped my head between her rather strong thighs, imprisoning me further.

       Dr. Pincherton wasted no time swooping down on my poor pussy like a bird of prey. In his case, what he used in lieu of talons was his gloved fist coated with some noxious, slimy, material. Initially all I felt was pressure, lots of pressure. It felt like my cunt was getting wider by the minute, but still no pain, just pressure. Suddenly there was a lancing pain like something red-hot had pierced my precious pussy. It brought back memories of the nasty guy who used a cattle prod on my cunt to loosen me up for a double penetration. Afterward what happened was positively blissful, but I always remembered the white-hot poker feeling that his little "buddy" caused previous to the great sex. This pain however was constant and growing. I was hurting, hurting in a very bad way. My whole body began to shake from the unending pain. I forgot all about the pussy suffocating me, which was a very bad mistake.

       My tolerance for pain was near zero without the aid of the sex that always accompanied it up until my operation. Now I was disgustingly normal and an easy victim for the denizens that resided in this prison disguised as a hospital. The pain the good surgeon was providing was unbearable, yet I had to bear it. By now there could be no question that a portion of my pussy was being burned to the ground and perhaps even beneath it. My focus was disturbed by the numerous punches Lois was delivering to my face. Fortunately my face became numb rather quickly and then there was only pressure and an occasion jolt of pain that lanced across my twisted face and even made little lightning bolts go off in my retinas. The fact that my retinas were functioning consoled me somewhat. I nearly passed out from the pain as the forest fire approached my cervix and then began torching it as well. I tried swallowing my tongue but was unable, so I did the next best thing and vomited, a very bad idea. Now I was strangling in my own vomit and very frightened by the process. Perhaps my less than enthusiastic response to the terrible things they were doing to me finally got their collective attention. Whatever, it was welcomed for the brief time that I remained conscious. What lay beyond was not an issue at this point.

                       (To be continued - lex ludite)   

                       Juliette The Super Tramp - Chapter 20

       Returning to the land of the living, my poor pussy was still throbbing from whatever the surgeon had done to it. I heard their voices discussing my fate and I didn't like the tone of the conversation. They were debating about the level of pain that I could accommodate based on my current weakened condition. Pincherton was all for pushing me to beyond my limits since he would have to clean up the mess one way or another. Lois on the other hand was all for allowing me to regain more strength so I could take a lot more pain before my body and mind broke down. Naturally I was in her corner even though she had betrayed me. As in most discussions such as this, a middle ground was finally established.

       I could hear them moving about the room and the low voice of the surgeon as he spoke to someone on the staff about providing him some assistance for a few hours. My ears pricked up when he mentioned "some minor surgery". He laughed at what the other party said and agreed that two nurses would be fine for his needs. Then I felt the cool hand of that traitorous doctor as it trailed over my brow and down the contours of my twisted face. She brushed my lips, and then separated them so she could run her fingernails across my teeth, tapping each as if counting them. I immediately had a terrible vision of some demented dentist drilling away as I screamed soundlessly, my tongue and vocal chords numbed.

       Without warning my poor cunt was once again assaulted by the surgeon. The flames of hell were reignited and burned furiously deep inside my throbbing, twitching twat. The pressure was intense and growing as I felt whatever it was moving purposefully toward my tilted cervix. The contact was an epic collision that made me sick to my stomach. This time the battering continued unabated, as if that force was trying to tear down the door to my birthing chamber that had never seen use. I willed myself to swallow my tongue to end this agony, but was denied by the gods. So this was pain without sex, what a horrible, impossible way to exist. Then the force was stilled and I thanked every deity I could remember.

       I drifted in and out of consciousness as the pressure returned and the attack resumed. In the background I could hear Lois cackling like some hag in a grade B horror movie. What she was saying between the screeches did not bode well for my health or welfare.

       "At the rate you're going, this bitch won't need a hysterectomy. It's hard to believe you could get your gloved fist that far up her cunt without splitting her open like a piece of rotten fruit, but from the looks of that bulging belly you're in the promised land. Can I have a turn when you're done ruining her uterus? I want to hear her scream when my fingernails rip open the lining of this depraved ingrate's cunt. With any kind of luck she'll get infected and then the fun will really begin. Suppose we cauterize that cesspool of a cunt from mouth to whatever's left of her uterus just to be on the safe side and get her ready for the real pain that follows. How does that sound?"

       Normally talk like that would have me juicing like a fountain, but not today. My entire horizon was fixed on making the pain go away, or at least masking it with some juicy orgasms. A brutal blow that felt as if it had burst my uterus made me wish for death. My mind was ready to desert me in my hour of need. Another triphammer of a blow finished me off for the moment. I retreated into darkness once more.

       I awoke to the sound of more voices, indicating that the two nurses had arrived to assist these two fiends in tormenting and torturing me to my limits and beyond. My assessment of the situation was not too far off the mark. I listened carefully out of curiosity, arguing that any knowledge might be sufficient to give me some type of edge later. This proved to be a false hope, but at the time it made sense. I felt like someone who had come in a bit late to a movie and was struggling to catch up on the plot development. Currently the group was discussing what type of stitching to use on certain portions of my anatomy. I had no idea what the numbers and type of material they were throwing around meant. Soon it became apparent that my cunt would be sewn shut with two different types of filament. One would be used on my inner cunt lips, the other on the outer ones.

       The discussion now addressed approaches to blocking my urethra without severely damaging the narrow connection to my bladder. They started to talk about "sounds" with a consensus that one with a tapered design would do fine. It could be inserted easily, but pulling it free would cause some degree of discomfort for the patient. When I heard my former friend insist that a larger size be used to enhance the experience upon withdrawal, I cringed and put another black mark by her name. Dr. Pincherton joined the conversation and suggested that the "sound" be lubricated with his special ointment to add to the patient's (that was me) discomfort before her bladder became full to the point that it was painful.

       There was a pause before I felt his long fingers pressing down on my bladder, which was rather full despite what I had been through this very day. My groan caught the attention of the group and soon I was being poked, prodded and pressed until my poor bladder could take no more and I involuntarily wet myself and was punished severely on the spot in front of the nurses who simpered and whispered to each other. I knew they were already thinking up all sorts of nasty things to do to me once I was at their mercy. In normal times I would have eagerly looked forward to the pleasure of their company. That was then, unfortunately this was now and I was terrified at the prospect.

       The nurses were sent to get an orderly to change my bedding, such as it was, and an enema with a double bag, the type used for large patients. I started to sweat at the prospect of being overfilled and kept that way for a long time while they did other bad things to my body. They did not disappoint me in the slightest. Two orderlies responded to the call for a bedding change and while the did, they took advantage of my vulnerability, egged on by the doctors who went out of their way to make it seem that it was my fault entirely and just another example of what a terrible patient I was. Reading between the lines they were welcome to do their best to make a better patient of me using techniques that were out of the box, if they knew what that meant. The way they were chuckling I was in for a lot of trouble starting this evening after hours. That proved to be a wrong impression.

       The doctor opened the manacles holding me to the bed so the orderlies could get busy. My wrists were cuffed behind my back and then I took my first spanking delivered by Dr. Pincherton who proved to have a heavy hand and knew just where to hit me. Prior to the surgery, a spanking wasn't even worth mentioning unless I was getting it from a spiked paddle or a loaded rubber hose that left deep bruises that hurt for weeks when done correctly. Now I was bawling like a baby after half a dozen good whacks with his gloved hand. I was astonished how much a few sharp slaps to the backs of my thighs could feel. First some tingling, then a sharpening of the pain and finally a sense of heat that remained after the spanking had stopped. One of the orderlies introduced my swollen backside to his heavy hand and the pain was intense coming right after Pincherton's gloved hand. I sobbed and kicked my legs like a little girl, which only made my spanking get harder and faster. This one was a real pro when it came to turning my bottom into a rainbow of colors and an ache that stayed with me for hours afterward.

       Lois now took her turn and enjoyed pinching the more colorful bruises from the previous spankings, giving me a guided tour of how my multicolored bottom had changed. She used her bare palm to spank me and did a very good job of it, which I might have appreciated in my other life. Lois also was the only one who managed to spank my pouting pussy as well. That did more than smart after all the other mauling it had taken. Finally the other orderly warmed my bottom and the backs of my legs with a steady rhythm and a heavy hand, making sure that I knew this was only a down payment of what I'd be getting after hours. You talk about timing; I had just been returned to my bed with fresh sheets and a warning that another episode would mean sleeping on the springs after my bottom had been turned to raw hamburger. In less than a minute later the other nurse returned with her prize, announcing that one of the storerooms contained a double bag enema that she liberated. She got a mock round of applause and a long drawn out moan from yours truly. The two orderlies left with a promise to visit me this evening once they got off their shift.

       Dr. Pincherton decided that my pussy should be sewed shut prior to my enema. I started to whimper after the first stitch was put into my still sensitive inner cunt lips. Lois laughed at my discomfort and asked if perhaps it might be better if they double stitched me. That received a quick approval and the nurse was instructed to do a very thorough job of it. I sobbed, pleaded, groaned and managed to squeeze a few tears from my stitched eye, to no avail. The nurse seemed to take the approach that I was some type of criminal that should be punished in any way possible. I don't know how many times she went too deep with the needle or pulled the double strength filament up at an angle in hopes of tearing the tender flesh she was sewing shut. I shuddered and sweat like a pig as she sewed that fleshy gate shut. Dr. Pincherton checked her work and pronounced it acceptable. I heaved a sigh of relief, but there still remained my outer cunt lips and they proved to be more of a challenge.

       They decided on a diamond pattern with two types of filament, a thick, heavy-duty thread on the outside and a smaller filament for the interior portion of my fat cunt lips. I counted every hole they made just to stay busy and sane. Even so I made enough movement and noise to be gagged and my body strapped down so the region they were doing would remain stationary. The pain was bad to start and gradually, after they got careless, the level of pain grew more intense. It would have been bad enough if they just started and worked until it was finished. Now after each grouping of stitches the doctors would evaluate them and in some cases have them redone, a process that was bloody and very painful. How strange to describe what I once loved as now something I feared. They on the other hand seemed to be dedicated to providing me with plenty of pain, rather than an efficient process. I'm sure that Dr. Pincherton would never stand still for such shoddy work in his operating room, if a paying customer were on the table.

       In normal times I would have become excited by the change of plans for sealing my naughty cunt. Instead I blubbered and shook my head from side to side when my doctors informed the nurses that the heavier thread should be used to complete the job of making me impervious when it came to satisfying the needs of orderlies, nurses and other members of the hospital staff. Bad enough to have to endure another round of pain, worse to imagine the anger that my unavailability would generate from those who planned to visit me during the night and early morning shifts. I began to wonder what type of punishment they would make me endure for not being cooperative. All sorts of fond memories bubbled up to the surface.

       Nurses were so inventive. What kind of enemas would they use to bloat my intestines to their limit, all the while with my anal passageway securely closed with one of those nasty but nice butt plugs? I'm sure my bladder would be backfilled with caustic liquids that burned away the lining along with my super sensitive urethra. Perhaps some hatpins or hypodermic needles would find those special nooks and crannies in a woman's body, making me scream soundlessly from the growing pain that soon would overwhelm my defenses and move me towards madness. My thoughts protected me from the pain associated with sewing my cunt shut, but not long enough. The pain was excruciating, and my mind quickly suffered an overload from the burst of pain that now intruded into my consciousness.

       No one seemed to notice my agonies since all were focused on the nurse doing the suturing. She had to take rest breaks, which was bad for me. Lois filled the gap with her little tricks of the trade, using her fingernails to rake my big tits from top to base, leaving a trail of bleeding flesh behind them. In my previous life I'd be begging her to go slower and deeper so I could squeeze every drop of pain from her activity. After a few up and down passes, she decided to turn me into a checkerboard, an odd-shaped one for sure, but her heart was in the right place.

       Dr. Pincherton let the cat out of the bag when he casually mentioned that nothing she could do would match what he was preparing once he got me back under the knife in his operating theater. This time I'd be awake and able to experience every drop of high-octane pain that he could wring from me as he flayed my big tits. If I were still able to endure further pain, a double mastectomy would follow. I failed to understand his comment that this was the first giant step in my genesis. My mind was still trying to deal with the concept of having my big tits sliced off while I was still conscious. The nurse once more took over her duties and the pain went off scale as she missed a few stitches and had to redo the area. It was then that my overloaded mind decreed some rest and so I retreated into darkness, still wondering what this genesis was all about.

       The party had gone on without me, which was just as well. My mind was so mixed up by now that any additional information or pain would have totally scrambled it. I was beginning to be very ambivalent about staying sane. There seemed to be few advantages and thousands of arguments for letting go, with me as its passenger, on a descent into complete madness, the ultimate answer for the injustices of the world. I smelled Lois before she spoke. She stunk of pussy juice, no on second thought it was cream, the kind that was churned in the cauldron of the cunt until it oozed like magma escaping from the bowels of the earth. She was having a marvelous time at my expense, and I hated her for it. If only there was someway to swap minds with her so she could inhabit my shell while I enjoyed being the good doctor.

       "Hello my dear troublemaker, glad to see you back among us. I've saved this little treat for your awakening. I do know just how much you once loved to experience pain. Here is a little something to bring back memories and possibly make you want to relive your previous strange existence."

       I had no inkling of what was in store, thanks to my eyes that had taken flight and made me understand only too well what life would be without them. Lois lacked certain characteristics that were needed to be a polished sadist. There was no build up before the surprise was revealed, no hints of its size, shape, materials of construction and the like. I had time for a couple of breaths, and then a massive wall of pain crashed down on me like an ocean wave. It felt as if I was pissing fire. The pain was so great I stopped breathing and prayed for death. There was a roaring in my skull and sparks were exploding to light up the darkness.

       Gradually I calmed down as the agony ended almost as quickly as it began. I took a deep breath and in the middle of exhaling, the rush of white-hot flame returned and nearly made me swallow my tongue. Lois had used the urethra plug, the one that tapered so that when withdrawn it felt as if my bladder had been ripped open. The thought of having one of the nurses settling down beside me in the dead of night and entertaining herself by seeing how many times she could pull and push the plug from my bladder was not something I could imagine. Lois had triumphed for now and we both knew it.

       "Are we having fun yet? Has the cat got your tongue? Well, don't you worry; let Dr. Lois do a little stitching together of those bee-stung lips and that nasty cat won't be able to get at your tongue any more."

       Her laughter made my blood run cold. I had unknowingly created a monster and it was capable of destroying or worse yet, turning me into its plaything. She put some kind of a metal clamp onto my lips to press them together. Then she pushed the needle through the top of my upper lip and threaded the filament down and through the bottom lip in one smooth motion. It was apparent that my doctor had done plenty of stitching during the early portion of her career, or perhaps she was an avid seamstress, something that I might be able to believe. Even as the thought flew through my mind, another stitch was completed and it barely hurt. I gave thanks for this merciful act.

                               (To be continued - lex ludite)