Charity Auction
Chapter 11
The clinic at which Tulsa was receiving her "treatment" was designed for one purpose:
the transformation of willing or unwilling female "guests" into totally submissive,
obedient sex slaves. Located on an island off the coast of South America, the owner
maintained an agreement with the country in whose costal waters the small island
stood. In return for a rather substantial annual donation, as well as help "re-educating"
the female family members of his opponents, the country's corrupt President ensured
the institution was permitted to continue its research unfettered.
It actually was a research facility, too, conducting any number of clinical trials with
neither the restrictions nor governmental oversight which would have been faced inside
the United States. Much of the work performed on Tulsa's body, for example, would not
have been permitted elsewhere.
For instance, her breast augmentation - from a rather modest 34B to her now-obscene
52EEE - did not involve traditional implants of any sort. Instead, using a procedure
developed at the clinic, tissue (mostly fat) was removed from her waist and elsewhere,
augmented with a variety of growth hormones, liquified, and injected directly into her
tits. The end result was unnaturally large, yet firm, breasts that could withstand all sorts
of abuse without the risk of rupturing that silicone implants carried. Tulsa's tits, while
not naturally formed, were totally natural. Likewise, the surgery which forced her feet
into a constantly pointed position, requiring her to wear nothing but heels from now on,
wasn't exactly FDA approved, either. Nor were any of the other, lesser operations that
had, and would in the future, further modify her appearance.
Tulsa was far from the only patient at the clinic, nor were all the others undergoing
various procedures slaves. About half those receiving treatment were there of their
own accord, mostly for any of a variety of age-reducing or body-enhancing procedures.
Two of those were actually quite wealthy women who, each having recently discovered
her submissive tendencies, were undergoing procedures similar in nature, yet not as
extreme as Tulsa's, then to be returned to their husbands as slaves.
The 30 or so slaves in residence, in addition to their own medical operations and
training, existed to serve the clinic's staff and non-slave patients. In Tulsa's case, this
meant becoming the primary caretaker to an 80-something woman who was receiving
experimental treatment for advanced Alzheimer's. Unfortunately for Tulsa, the drugs
given the woman made her both extremely horny and incontinent. It seemed to Tulsa
that when she wasn't lapping the old woman to orgasm, she was emptying the bedpan
and washing shit off her old, wrinkled ass.
Of course, her days consisted of more than bedpans and octogenarian pussy. She had
her own training to attend, and she was, after all, a sex slave. Just because she
couldn't cum (her Mistress hadn't released her from that restriction yet), didn't mean she
didn't juice up nicely. Nor did it mean that the staff and other patients couldn't take
advantage of her status. On average, Tulsa took at least ten loads of cum in her
various holes each day. Each time she was used, her performance was graded.
Anything less than perfect performance, and she was punished. This usually meant a
beating, but sometimes other methods of "correction" were used.
Once, for example, she fell asleep in the middle of a 48 hour rape session. As
punishment, she was given a one gallon ice water enema, then with her ass was
plugged and she was forced to use her cunt and mouth to bring every staff member and
patient, whether slave or free, to orgasm before the plug was removed. This took over
twelve hours for the slave to accomplish. Another time, her teeth accidently grazed the
cock of a man who was fucking her throat, and her punishment was to serve as the
facility's urinal. Bound helplessly in a kneeling position, her mouth held open with a
rubber O ring, her only nourishment for three days was the acrid urine and occasional
load of semen deposited down her throat.
It was a full four months before Donna returned to the clinic. By then, Tulsa's mind and
body were both completely transformed. The once self-assured attorney had been
reduced to a quivering, totally submissive, obedient and sexually frustrated piece of
fuck meat.
Her abnormally huge, yet firm and extremely 52EEE breasts were now marked by
permanently erect nipples, which were themselves, further adorned with solid titanium
rings, two inches in diameter. The tissue in her new udders were such that she was
able to be hung by her tit rings without damage to her body. The remainder of her
body hair, with the sole exception of her eyelashes, had been permanently removed by
now. A wig would be necessary if she were to have any semblance of a human being.
Her waist had been further reduced to a mere fourteen inches, further exaggerating her
new chest, by removal of the lower two ribs on each side of her body and the rather
inventive relocation of a few internal organs. The slave's new measurements were a
caricature of a Barbie doll: 52EEE-14-36.
Other physical changes did not involve actual surgery. Due to the constant presence of
a butt plug, her asshole was a constantly open hole; small enough that anyone taking
her up the ass would find it snug and enjoyable, but loose enough that without the plug,
she'd shit herself. Then there were the mental changes. Cheryl no longer existed. In
her place was Tulsa...a slut, a slave.
"Well, bitch, it looks like you've taken well to your new life. Not that it really matters,
anyway, though I would have preferred it if you hadn't adapted so quickly. I would have
liked to see you suffer more," Donna said, looking down at the quivering form groveling
at her feet.
"I still haven't decided what to do with you yet. I could probably use a slave around the
house, but I doubt that you'd be worth the bother. Maybe I'll just sell you. I should be
able to get some of my investment back, particularly if I sell you to one of those Asian
BDSM whorehouses I've heard about. Or I could make you a movie star. How would
you like that, cunt? To be the star in your own snuff movie? To get fucked to death on
film? Doesn't that sound delicious, slut? You may answer, but do so respectfully and
at your own peril if you say something I don't like."
"Mistress, please keep your slave," Tulsa sobbed. "It promises to be the most perfect
and obedient slave in every way. Please, Mistress!"
"You claim you'll be completely submissive and absolutely obedient?"
"Oh, yes, Mistress!" the slave girl gushed. "If only permitted to serve you, it will be the
most perfect and obedient slave in the world. It will obey your every command, without
question or hesitation."
"Okay, prove it, bitch," spat Donna. "I want you to burn your clitoris off with that," she
said, pointing to a soldering iron smoldering on the workbench on the far wall. "You've
not had an orgasm in over four months, and by your own hand, you will ensure you
never have one again. You like that idea, slut?"
"Mistress, what the slave likes is of no consequence. Its Owner has given it a
command, and it will obey," she said quietly as she crawled quickly to the work bench.
She squatted with her legs splayed obscenely, taking the iron in her hand. Knowing
that the result of her next action was to permanently prevent herself from achieving the
release she'd been longing for the past four months, she nonetheless smiled brightly at
her Mistress. The glowing rod sizzled as the juices dripping from her soon-to-be
mutilated slit dripped onto it. She moved to hot tool slowly towards her target, not out of
fear or hesitation, but in order to prolong her own agony and give her Mistress as much
pleasure as possible. Maintaining her smile, she winced slightly but perceptively, as the
tip of the tool touched her inner labia.
"Stop," Tulsa's Mistress commanded. "How dare you damage MY property! A slave
girl without a clit is only worth half as much as with one. I have no intent of losing any
more money than I have to on you. Get your scummy little slut body over here, bitch!"
Tulsa scampered as fast as she could on hands and knees, ignoring the searing pain
from the severe self-inflicted burn on her labium. Kneeling obediently at her Mistresses
feet, she listened carefully as Donna gave her new instructions.
At a wave of her Mistress's hand, Tulsa crawled on her belly to a toolbox located under
the workbench. From it she removed two needle-nosed vice grips, a leather punch, and
a padlock. She took these items and crawled to the center of the room, where a mirror
had been propped up on a small stand. Sitting on her ass, she raised her legs off the
ground and carefully attached the vice grips to each of her outer cunt lips. Once
attached, she rose to her knees, allowing her new jewelry to dangle lewdly between her
legs.
"Stand," her Mistress commanded, and the slave obeyed, leaving her legs at shoulder
width and allowing the pliers to swing slightly with each breath. She remained as
motionless as possible for the next two hours, while the weight of the tools slowly
stretched her lips. Finally, Donna decided they were long enough, and ordered the
slave girl to continue.
Tulsa first removed the vice grips, then laid back and poured a bottle of rubbing alcohol
over her abused cunt, screaming at the intense pain. After a few moments, she used
one of the vice grips to stretch her left cunt lip out as far as it would go, then used the
leather punch to force a hole cleanly through her labia. When both sides were done,
she threaded the padlock through the two holes and locked her own pussy shut.
"From now on, anyone can use your mouth or asshole, but only those who I give the
key to may fuck your slutty cunt. And when I say anyone, I do mean anyone. I don't
care if I've given them permission to use you or not, if anyone makes a pass at you, at
any time, you will put out. If they ask why your fuckhole is locked, you'll tell them that
they have to get your Mistress's permission before they can fuck you. Understand?"
"It understands, Mistress," Tulsa replied quietly, not quite holding back a tear from the
intense pain emanating from between her legs. "Anyone who wishes to use its asshole
or mouth is welcome to do so, but only those who Mistress allows to have the key may
fuck its cunt."
"I'm glad you understand, bitch. By the way, everyone on the island already has a key
to your cunt. But now, what do we do about a stupid slave cunt who tries to damage
her Mistress's property? Shouldn't it be punished for doing something like that?"
"Yes, Mistress," Tulsa replied. "It deserves whatever punishment its Mistress deems
appropriate."
"All right, then. I think another year without orgasms, along with a nice beating and a
few more modifications to your slutty body are in order, don't you agree, slut?
"Mistress, it accepts whatever its Owner deems appropriate as punishment for its
misbehavior," the slave girl replied, inwardly terrified at the thought of not being able to
have an orgasm for another full year.
"It doesn't really matter whether you accept it or not, bitch," Donna spat. "I'll do
whatever I want to do with you. If I decide to cut off your clit, burn your eyes out, or kill
you, I will. You are nothing to me but a thing...not even a person...just a thing with a
cunt that I can do anything I want to with."
"It understands, Mistress," Tulsa replied quietly, her head bowed in submission.
"Not that it maters, but good. Now, I have to really pee, but I'm afraid I don't feel like
getting up to find the restroom. Do you have any ideas, cunt?" Smiling, the slave girl
leaned forward and cupped her mouth firmly over her Mistress's cunt.
