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The dis Center
Part 1
Chapter One-Introductions
"Your master sent you here, because you were a good slave," Doctor Fulkner said looking up from a medical chart. After squinting in thought he added, "I'm not sure about rewarding slaves. You could physiologically damage other subjects with attitude or actions."
"The client paid a premium," said an administration slave to the doctor's left, as the doctor flipped to pages two.
He continued talking mostly to himself, "Her then boyfriend asked her to give up her clit, which WAS the only way she could orgasm as proof of her slavery. Then proceeded to burn the clitoris off." I shuddered at the mention of the full word.
He directed my to a gyno exam table, with straps. "I always strap them down," he interjected as he tighted a leather strap under my C cup breast. Blinded in bright light, I felt him move the healed scar tissue at the top of my feminine cleft. "The true Norwegian blonds have pale skin a light pink folds."
Without warning he probed me with two index fingers and proceeded to spread me, "A lot of damage and to much elasticity for a woman who hasn't given birth." Turning to the note taking slave he barked, "Large Speculum."
"Get the 3 inch and a flashlight," she said to another slave and continued to write, while he shoved several fingers in my ass and stretched it. I grunted in shocked pain.
"Silence subject or I'll gag you." The doctor twisted his fingers, "She's had limited anal activity," roughly jamming his fingers in my poop shoot; I grimaced in pain, "And has a continues to have a pain response."
The doctor was at the side of my head by the time he finished the sentence and shoved the shit smelling fingers in to my mouth. "No tongue piercing, but bruises in soft upper pallet, indicative of oral activity." Removing his gloved hands from my mouth he wiped them dry on my light shoulder length hair.
Still at my side he took the speculum and flashlight from the slave a pushed it in to my mouth. Smiling he said, "I'm guessing both ends take the same size. Tilt your head back and show me some deep throat skills."
Gaging pain from the plastic device pushing the back of my tongue forward forced a small cough. "No breath control and some pain, subject must not suck well." The scribe slave and doctor laughed as he moved the speculum to my fuck tunnel.
Shining the light he resumed, "A lot of scar tissue in here. History indicated use of strapon barbed dilldos by other slaves, resulting in bleeding in both lower orifices." Leaving the intruder inside he walked to my side. Painfully twisting the the nipple he looked up in thought.
"Treatment will focus on restoring a vaginal orgasm. Let say 75% of those exercises and 25% of creating an anal orgasm exercises. " Now turning to look in to my blue eyes, while hand malling my whole tit he says, "Make sure the subject knows the rules. Give the subject an extra thousand calorie per day diet, she's too boney for my taste."
"Client requested no permanent changes, so I will schedule a staring session before return delivery," said the nude administrative slave.
"Thousand per day, should be stopped after two weeks if it takes that long." replied the doctor.
I couldn't believe my ears, my master is training me to orgasm again. I saw the back of the doctor's blue medical coat as he left. In cute arched letters it read: "F.R.A.C. 'em" I smiled and the slave yelled "FACE FORWARD SLUT." and she painfully wrenched out the speculum.
Chapter Two - The Rules
Nudity was a right only of staff slaves, was just one of the rules layed out for me with an intense session.
I think it went on for 6 hours, in a small windowless class room. When I asked to relieve myself I was given a bucket, then slapped across the hands with a metal ruler for not asking about rules of requesting relief.
The subject slave requests relief by moving pussy up and down four times in a row, rapidly if possible. From this rule a guessed there are no male subject slaves.
Knowing the drill I inquired of my nude instructor about rules for requesting water. I was informed that subjects can't request food or water. The beautiful small chested brunet grinned and replied, "You can only request something be put in your mouth, by doing four come hithers with one's tongue."
I immediately performed the gesture and the gorgeous woman a full foot shorter than me opened the drawer of the wooden teacher's desk an removed a gag. She said, "Kiss my nipple before I put this in." Which was at mouth height from my student desk. I tenderly sucked it, trying to get on her good side. She then lifted the lid of my student desk and produced a five page test and a number 2 pencil. I felt 12 again although I had dropped out of my first year of college five years ago.
"You must know ALL the rules. No grading on a curve your nipples will pay for every wrong answer. Unfortunately for you we haven't gone over all the rules, so you will be hurting; you will not leave this room or eat until you score 100% on a test. Begin."
She returned to the teachers desk and sat down, and rang a bell on the desk. She did look beautiful nude, while I was dressed in dirty scrubs and my master's slave collar. Another slave brought her a lunch tray with several items, but she asked, "Where is my meat?"
"Slave teacher the doctor is experimenting with a new diet to control your PMS."
"Where is my PMS medicine?" ask a women growing increasingly angry.
"Slave teacher the experiment is only diet," clad slave cleared her throat, "I worked in 2 ounces of banana."
"You didn't address me before speaking, I shall ruler those disrespecting tits. Show them to me." I snuck a peak her tits were a covered in black and blue bruises and welts and scars. I buried myself in the test as I here the swing a hit, but the punished slave made no vocalizations. "I guess they are less sensitive during this healing process. Give me the palms of your hands."
I heard the strikes and the groans turning to screams, while a turned to page 2. The first page being True and False, I believe I might have guessed them all. Now they were multiple choice, and harder. The first one was how a slave should dispose of her first menstrual blood. I guessed c: "eat it" would satisfy this sick center.
I glanced up at the now crying server and the slave teacher, and the instructor caught my eye. "Well, Miss Looky Lew; you know have only five minute to finish this test, then those boobs are mine."
I returned finished guessing my way through page 2 while I heard her return to the schoolmistress seat and the slave leave and close the door.
"Four minutes," she said through low calorie rice cake. "Who do I have to fuck around here to get some real food."
Page three was "fill in the blank", my nipple hardened expecting a suffering to come. First questions was: List the two parts of another subject slave which a subject slave can not touch? I'm guessing pussy and asshole, after writing it down I recalled that the server's breast looked untreated even by friends. My breasts seem tight against my garment as I erased. These pencil erasers just seem to smear the marks on these tests. I wrote skin and hair, as the instructor barked "Three minutes."
Moments later with red felt pen in hand, I was called a lucky cunt as she turned to the second page. Not all of us pretty blue-eyed blonds are as dumb as Paris Hilton. And I have some more cleavage.
"Eat it? We don't eat anything the doctor doesn't prescribe around her you stupid slave! Show me where to torture you." And I lift my scrub blouse to expose that cleavage. After screaming from the ruler to my right nipple I told her the correct answer.
Some of the questions took four times to get correct and my nipples have never felt more torment, before we made it to page 3. Tears flowed down my face and she made me kneel in front of the desk and lift my breast on to the wood surface desk top.
"Everything is wrong on this page. You get more pain when EVERYTHING is wrong, 25 strikes crushing the utters with the flat side and 25 chopping with the edge." After each strike she pulled on my nipples to make sure I was fully on the desktop, I tried retreating to my sub space, but the pulling on my nipples brought me back. Those things were on fire, I prayed that one of the chopping stroke would cut my nipples off and stop this misery.
After the first torture session she gave me water from a second glass, I didn't even see the server bring in.
Being a very eager student, I only missed one on the second test. The Slave Teacher then started teaching me by asking hypothetical questions. I began to see the most important thing was to report a rule violation within 30 seconds. And since we are always videotaped, reporting times will be checked.
Handing me the third test, she whispered to me, "when you leave this classroom remember the rules, you will hurt less." Her first kind act was to gently brush back my hair. "A good teacher cares about her students, with the cameras on I'll be beaten if the student and demonstrator don't cry." She spoke barely above the sound of my labored breathing.
Before I walked out the door she said to remember the the closest rule violation reporting station might be behind me, and that might save me getting it reported in 30 seconds.
End of Part 1
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