I sat across from the couple and licked my suddenly dry lips. Could I do this? Could I really sit here and tell them my story? She said I had to. He said it all led up to this. All of my training, led to this. If I couldn’t do it, I would have failed. Him. I would have failed hi,. My heart started racing and I knew I would do it. I would find a way, I could not fail.
I smiled like he had shown me. Just a small uptilt at the corners and looked slightly down and to the left, letting my head fall a bit to that side so that my hair slid away and exposed the long column of my neck. I could see the man looking, and he licked his lips, his breathing getting just a touch faster. I had him. I had to get her too. If I couldn’t get her too, the story wouldn’t matter. They had to buy into me, my body, to insure that they would enter the program.
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I took a deep breath and leaned forward, adjusting my chair as an excuse, letting my blouse gape open and exposing to them both that I had on nothing underneath. My nipples were hard and pressing against the material. I could feel the moisture begin to pool on my seat. Of course I wasn’t wearing underwear, he never allowed that.
I saw her eyebrows rise just a bit and her chin tilt up. There. That got her. She clung a bit more tightly to her husband’s hand. Time to begin.
“I suppose every good story starts at the beginning,” I almost whisper. My voice permanently husky after all of the years of training. He likes it that way. Smoky. Sexy. I drag my mind from him and try to look the couple across from me in the eyes.
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It’s hard to do, I’m so accustomed to looking down…waiting. I have to be more assertive now. I’m a recruiter. This is my big chance to show him he hasn’t wasted his time.
The couple leans a bit more toward me, lips moistened by furtive tongues slightly parted. I tell them this will take some time, ask if they would like any refreshments before we begin, let them know they can stop me at any time. He makes a motion with his hand, he’s getting impatient for the story to begin. I nod slightly and settle back into my chair. My mind slips back to the beginning, and I begin to speak.
“You see me here before you, a finished product. A product of the program you came here to learn more about. You may enter the program, but know that you will never become what I am. It is too late to start your training. It must happen at a much younger age.
My earliest memory is coming to the program in a van.
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There were no windows and I was afraid. I didn’t know where I was, or how I had gotten there. When the van stopped and the door opened, I saw him for the first time and the look on his face set me at a sort of ease. I was still hesitant, but when he reached his hand out for me, I took it and followed him.
He led me into a small, cold room and told me to take off all of my clothes. He said that they were dirty, and only good, clean girls could have dinner. I was very hungry, so I did as he said. I stood before him completely nude, too afraid to think of modesty or trying to cover my body. He looked me over and, after taking my hand again, he led me away to a bathroom of sorts. There was a large tub, and it was full of warm water. He helped me in and instructed me to remain standing. I did as I was told. It just didn’t occur to me not to. He began to bathe me, with almost clinical detachment. I turned and squatted and leaned as instructed, the warm water soothing my tense muscles.
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Just when I thought he was finished, he told me to spread my feet further apart. I didn’t realize he was going to wash there. For the first time, I hesitated. I didn’t know him. I had a voice in my head, a voice I recognized by couldn’t place, telling me that no one should touch me there. He looks into my face and I can tell I’ve upset him. He grabs my arm, spinning me around to face away from him, and before I can get past the slight vertigo from the rapid spin, my bottom is aflame. He’s struck me. I pull in air, but before I can decide if I’m going to use it to scream, moan, or sob, three more strikes land.
I feel a tear trailing down my face as I’m spun back around to face him.
He asks me if I had heard a question in his voice and I shake my head no. He stands there, just staring at me and slowly, I allow my feet to slide apart on the slippery bottom of the tub. He takes up the rag again and begins to wash between my legs. The rag is scratchy and rough and it hurts, but I just close my eyes and hang my head. I don’t say a word.
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I can’t remember the last time I’d spoken.
He drops the rag and begins to feel around between the lips of my vagina. I squeeze me eyes tighter. I know this isn’t right. I don’t know how I know, but I know. My shoulders roll forward and my chin lowers to my chest. I try to disappear inside myself, waiting for this to be over. I can’t tell you how old I was then. As I said, my memories begin with this day. I know that my chest was small, my breasts the size of small apples, high and perky and I had light brown areolas and nipples that seemed much too large to belong to the breasts they lived on. As he inspected me, I opened my eyes just a touch and could see my nipples beginning to grow and stand out from my breasts.
He noticed too. He leaned forward and took one between his teeth, nibbling at it and laving it with his tongue. His fingers got rougher in their exploration and suddenly, one of them slid up and touched something that had me flinching away. I couldn’t decide if had felt good, bad, painful….
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I just knew it wasn’t right.
I felt my mind start to drift, taking me away from what was happening in that bathtub. I could feel my body swaying slightly with his ministrations, but I couldn’t connect to the sensations.
Suddenly, I felt something cold and hard under me and I blinked, trying to come back to the moment, to take stock of my new surroundings. He was standing over me, and I was laying on a table of sorts. The table was high and my legs were in stirrups. I didn’t know then that’s what they were, and I was confused. I had never seen anything like this table. What was it’s purpose? I felt exposed, I had no covering and the room was so cold.
He moved from my side, down to the end of the table where the odd foot rests held me open to his gaze. He picked something up from a small cart next to the table, and I felt something cool and slippery being massaged into my most private area. I tried to close my knees, but suddenly, a sharp pain on what I now know is my clit jolted me. He just stood there, looking at me until I spread my legs again, knowing that the punishment would continue just as the spanking had if I continued to disobey.
The massaging began again, and moved down to my anus. My breathing completely stopped.
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This couldn’t be right, surely he wasn’t touching me there. But, of course, he was and as he continued to rub in the cool, slippery substance I began to notice an occasional burn as something pressed against me. After a time, I realized that whatever this substance was that was being used had an analgesic effect and I was feeling the burn less and less often, and almost in a muted sense.
He turned from me suddenly, opening drawers on the cart and moving things around. When he turned back around, I could tell he had something in his hand. I tried to lift my head to see, but his eyes lifted sharply to mine, the tightening around his mouth telling me I had messed up…again. I quickly dropped my head back down and closed my eyes.
I felt the muted burn and pressure again, and then I was screaming. Something was moving inside of me. He was putting something inside of my anus! Oh God, it burned. He acted as though he couldn’t hear my pleas for mercy, and my squirming only garnered me another sharp pinch on my clit. I tried so hard to stay still after that. It hurt so very badly, and I cried and moaned, but I daren’t move. He had already shown me, repeatedly, that the pain could get worse.
Once he had shoved the…whatever it was.
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in as far as he wished for it to go, he grabbed my hands from my face and jerked me into a seated position. We’ll just say that this change didn’t help the discomfort any and leave it at that.
He pulled me down from the table and held me until I was stable on my feet. He crooked his finger for me to follow him and turned to leave. It struck me as I limped slowly behind him, every step, every breath, reminding me of the thing in my backside, that other than the explanation as to why I had to remove my clothes, and the instruction to spread my legs, he hadn’t spoken at all.
He led me into another room, with a small table laid out for a meal. Sitting around it were 3 other men. They looked up as we came in, all of them looking at me intently. He sat down and pointed to the chair next to him. I moved to it, and as I tried to sit down, I winced and moaned in agony, immediately standing back up straight. He made the face again and jumped from his chair. He pushed his hand between my shoulder blades so hard that I fell forward and he continued the pressure until I was laid down on the table, my face pressed against the rough wood.
I began to whimper, wondering if it was going to be pinching or spanking this time, when I realized one of the other men at the table wasn’t looking at me, he was looking at him. He nodded slightly and stood, coming around behind me where I couldn’t see him anymore.
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I heard his belt buckling jingling and that’s when I knew. It was to be spanking, and this time with a strap. I clinched my eyes shut as tightly as I possibly could, and held my breath, waiting.
I quickly learned how very wrong I was, about what was to happen, and about how I thought I had figured out the levels of pain.
My legs were roughly jerked apart and as I fought for balance with my toes barely touching the floor, the edge of the table digging mercilessly into my lower stomach and groin, the new man pushed something big into me. I bit my lip, trying desperately not to scream. My ass was full from whatever had been shoved in there before, and now my pussy was being stretched beyond capacity. A hand fisted in my hair, pulling my head back as the invasion continued, digging deeper and deeper into me. I could hear grunting behind me, I could feel a body pressed against my legs.
I went limp from the pain and prayed for my mind to take me to the place it had taken me during my bath, but the pain wouldn’t allow for it. Just when I thought there was no way I could take more of this thing tunneling into me, it began to retreat. I opened my eyes to see the other two men, eating their meal eyes riveted to me and what was happening.
My head, still held back at a painful angle, was beginning to throb and the coppery scent of blood invaded my nostrils. I didn't know what he was doing behind me, I just knew it hurt.
One set of eyes before me flicked up and behind me and a head nodded.
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The one that had responded to whatever was happening stood and began to loosen his belt as well. He climbed onto the table, kneeling in front of me. He grabbed my jaw and his fingers dug into the joint, forcing my mouth open. Just before he put. . . the. . . thing. . . into my mouth, I heard him say, "Use your teeth and we will hurt you. "
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