Beneath

DIGNITY

       I woke the next morning to a feeling a dread and fear.  I'm normally long to wake in the morning but the anticipation of the day brought me to a fully wakeful state almost immediately.  I made myself coffee anyway, habits being what they are. 

       I had two hours before I had to leave.  Sipping my coffee, I reread the instructions.  I had done so the previous night, in the bath, but I feared having missed something.  I needed a refresher.  Bad as it was, I didn't want to know what a punishment would entail. 

       The rules were fairly simple.  Thick as the stack of papers were, most of it was a reiteration of my basic place in the world for the next year.  Over and over, the writing went on about who I was.  "You are a toy.  You are an object.  You exist for the pleasure of others.  Your desire is irrelevant.  Your wants and needs are irrelevant.  You are owned.  You are a possession.  Your thoughts are as important as those of our pencils..."  I had to read every word of this to get to the basic instructions embedded within at random intervals.  Which was why I felt the need to read it again.  It would have been easy to miss one.

       I was not to wear panties.  Ever.  I was only to wear what had been given to me.  I was to follow the orders of anybody who displayed a badge.  Should I meet a police person away from the station, one displaying a badge, I was to immediately identify my position to them by saying, "Thank you for your service to the community.  If there's anything I can do to repay you, just ask."  I was to be clean every day.  I was to fix my hair every day, keep my nails painted.  My duties would be janitorial, I was to clean all day when not servicing one of my many new masters.  There were three different floors to the station and I was to keep to a different one every day, rotating each of three days. I was to visit the sex shop once a month for a waxing. 

       Nothing new.  I supposed I had caught it all.  While it was on my mind, I marked the one month interval on my calender and prepared for my day.

       The outfits were loose, flowing dresses, almost floor length.  I had a set of new bras.  They only served to push my breasts up, so they protruded straight from my chest, covering nothing.  This left the dress to gently rub against my nipples and I shuddered at the thought of feeling this all day.  Fully dressed, I looked at myself in the mirror.  My hair was a coif, my face fully painted, and yet the dress could only be described as dowdy.  I looked ridiculous.

       On the bus ride to the station, I felt everybody must be staring at me but couldn't lift my eyes to confirm this.  And that horrible excitement, in spite of myself, betraying myself, that offensive need of mine stared at me unwaveringly.  I felt a moment of relief stepping off the bus, squashed by the realization that I was now standing before the station.  I stood, transfixed, fighting the urge to turn and run, go into hiding, maybe they wouldn't do anything to my husband after all.  They hadn't seemed to want to.  They hadn't seemed interested.  No.  No.  If he died, it would be my fault alone.  And they just might kill him from spite.

       I felt a hand on my bottom.  "You're early.  Good girl.  Let's go in."  It was Darns.  Had he been waiting outside for my arrival?  The hand pushed my buttocks forward and I walked with him into the station.  His hand on my ass, I thought of all the squats I'd done.  The lunges.  The one legged knee bends.  All to keep my ass firm and tight.  I thought of all the times I considered myself so much better than all those wives I'd watched let themselves go, get flabby and gain weight.  Now I could only envy them.

       He guided me, wordlessly, to a back room.  It was large, full of chairs all facing a podium.  A meeting area.  This was probably where they got their morning assignments.  Darns closed the door behind us.  He lifted my dress and ran his finger between my labia.  "You're so wet.  I couldn't sleep last night, thinking of all the things I'm going to do to you."  He grabbed my breast over the dress.  "You are in so much trouble, little girl.  You're going to regret ever marrying that sissy fucking writer.  You're gonna wish you'd married a real man.  A cop.  A protector.  I'm gonna make you beg.  You're going to beg for me."  At this point, my whole body was trembling.  The door opened and Murond walked in.

       "Having a little chat?" he asked, offhandedly.

       "Yes, sir," Darns said and grabbed a chair, putting it next to the podium.

       Then Murond,  making minor preparations on the podium, dashed my one, last, little hope, that I wouldn't be alone with Darns too often.  "Darns here is my best officer.  He requested that he be allowed to do your training and I was more than happy to oblige.  He's a real treasure here.  We're lucky to have him."

       Darns pulled the dress up over my head.  He didn't remove it from my neck, he draped it over my head, covering my face and sat me down.  I felt my legs being pushed apart.  I grabbed the sides of the seat. 

       I could hear people filing in, random snatches of conversation in the din as a slew of unknown hands fondled me and groped me.

       "Nice tits on this one."

       "...he said he only had a couple of drinks.  It's always a couple..."

       "I don't know where I left it.  I hate to have to requisition..."

       "You think they'll give this one piercings?  I love it when they're pierced."

       "You see the new commissioner, yet?  He was a national hero, a copper himself.  That's how it should always be...fucking elite scumbags don't know how to run a force."

       "That's for damned sure."

       "You know me, I rather prefer the tiny titties..."

       Murond's voice broke through.  "Okay, settle down.  Get seated.  We've got a lot to go through today.  As you can see, we've got a brand new cunt for the station."  Clapping and hooting.  "Yes, yes, settle down.  You'll get your chance.  I know you were worried we wouldn't have one in time for the ball but Darns here found a sketchy little author married to a nice, firm ass.  We all owe him a debt of gratitude."  More clapping.  "He'll be doing her training.  For the next couple of days, you'll need his permission.  Then she'll be public property.  She's responsive, too.  Nice and wet.  I think you'll all enjoy this one.

       "Also, I'm sure you've all heard that we have a new commissioner.  We got a PR note that he'll be visiting each station personally.  He was the man who found the rebel hideout.  It's because of him that our citizens no longer live in fear of terrorist attacks.  We'll need to go out of our way to show him great respect when he gets here.

       "Today's focus is on the graffiti kids.  I want you to keep an eye out for whomever has been defacing public property of late.  Talk to the people who work out in the open.  Street vendors, curbside whores, bums...anybody who might have seen anything.

       "Okay, get out of here.  And be safe.  Dismissed."

       The din rose again.  I heard more snatches of conversation.  Rustling.  Somebody pinched my nipple.  Some laughter.  Eventually, quiet.  I could hear one person breathing.  I knew it must be Darns.  I don't know how long I sat there, listening to his slow, deep respiration.

       So sudden it made me jump a little, he commanded, "Say, 'please fuck me.'"

       "Please fuck me."

       "Do you want it?"  I thought for a moment.  I did.  I didn't want to but I did.  It would be best not to hide this fact.

       "Yes.  I want it."

       "Tell me how much you want it."

       I couldn't have felt more grateful to have my face covered.  I could just say it, anonymously.  Well, pretend anonymously.  "I want it so bad.  I need it.  I'm so wet.  I want you to use me.  I want to feel you inside me."  I couldn't help but think of the instructions, how my wants are supposed to be irrelevant. 

       My words are answered with more silence.  Then he pulled the dress back over me, grabbed my wrist and abruptly pulled me behind him.  He led me to the bathroom, in a serious hurry.  Inside, he opened a small closet, took out a sign that said, "Closed for cleaning".  He hung it on the outside of the door and locked us inside.  He grabbed my dress and pulled it over my head, barely giving me enough time to lift my arms up so that it could slide off. 

       "Now," he walked to the end of the room and stood between two urinals.  The floor was tiled, two slight indentations with drains in the center.  There was a line of toilet stalls opposite a line of sinks.  "Go into the closet and bring me all the cleaning equipment you think might be needed to get this bathroom spotless."

       I found a broom and a mop.  I brought them to him and leaned them against the wall next to him.  I returned and found a caddy with cleaning products, a toilet brush and a scrub brush.  I lay that at his feet.  I found some window cleaner for the mirrors, some newspaper to use with the cleaner, a bucket.  I brought that to him.  He looked at me stonily.  There must be more, I thought.  I returned to the closet and looked around desperately.  A toilet plunger.  Maybe?  I brought it to him.  Still a stony look.  I returned, dug through the place frantically.  Nothing.  Extra rolls of toilet paper and napkins.  Hand soap.  A funnel.  What could you possibly need a funnel for in a utility closet for the bathroom?  I felt the blood drain from my face.  I stared at it for a moment then brought it to him.  The smile on his face let me know I was correct to bring it.         "Sit with your back, here, against the wall."  I lay against the wall, my shoulders propped against it.  He grabbed under my knees and pushed them back toward my shoulders.  "Take them.  Hold them there.  Now, look.  You are too quiet.  Talk."  I didn't know what to say.  He grabbed the toilet brush and then I did know what to say.

       "Please, don't.  Whatever you're going to do.  Please, I'll do anything."

       "I know you'll do anything.  That's true, regardless.  There's nothing you can offer me that you don't have to give me, anyway."  He presses the brush against my pussy.  "Talk to me."

       "Oh, god.  It's so gross.  Please, take it off."  He began slapping my pussy with the brush.  "Ow.  Please, no."  He rubbed it over my breasts, smacked my pussy a few times, ran it over my nipples roughly.  "Oh, please, please.  It's so dirty."  Then I remembered the word he'd used in the meeting room.  "I beg you.  I beeeeeg you."

       "You're dirty.  You are a dirty little whore.  You think you're better than a toilet brush?"  He ran it over my pussy, back and forth.  I could only whimper.  "The toilet brush should be the one disgusted at having to touch that pussy."  He held it in front of my face.  "Apologize to the brush.  Say you're sorry it had to touch you."

       "I'm sorry you had to touch me." 

       "Why?"

       "Because I'm a dirty little whore."

       "Kiss it.  Lick it."        

       "Please."

       "DO IT!"

       And I did.  I kissed it and licked it.  I felt a trickle run down over my asshole.  I wanted to die.

       He turned it around and shoved the handle into me until it met with resistance.  "Take the hand brush and the powder and clean every toilet.  Make sure you get down into the water, get every spot.  And that toilet brush better stay in your pussy.  You feel it sliding out, you push it back in, got it?  Move on your hands and knees from now on."

       He removed his pants.  As I worked, he stood behind me stroking his penis.  Sometimes, I had to push the brush back inside me, sometimes I felt him doing it with his foot.  By the time I had finished the last toilet, I was glistening with sweat. 

       Before I could turn to him, he grabbed the back of my neck and pushed me down, my face was next to the tank and my breasts were hanging in the bowl.  My nipples were just touching the cold water inside.  "Reach around and spread your ass."  I did.  His finger entered my anus and retreated.  Something else went in.  Lube shot inside me and, as he pulled it out, it shot on the outside, too.  I felt him rub his shaft up and down my anus before he pushed inside me.  He went slowly and I was thankful, though it still hurt.  "You're ass is sooo tight."  He pushed all the way inside and kept pressing, like he thought he could get it in further.  "I want you to feel it in your throat."  He was in to the hilt, circling his pelvis.  I was moaning uncontrollably, in pain but feeling I could almost orgasm.  He reached down and rammed the brush inside me a few times before removing it.  He dipped it in the toilet, still full of cleaner, and rubbed it all over my back.  He stuck it in the bowl and rubbed it over my breasts.  I was making noises I'd never made or heard anyone else make.  He spoke uninterrupted without finishing a thought or a sentence as he rammed my ass hard.  "Yeah, you like you fucking dirty it gets you cuz your dirty fucking tit a big cock in your...."  I could vaguely hear laughter outside and realized how loud my crazy noises were.

       Then he came, shooting inside me, gripping my next so hard I thought he might choke me to death.  He stayed inside me as he went flaccid.  "Mmmm.  Mmm.  Mmmmmmmm.  You're ass is full of lube and cum and shit, now.  You're going to sit on the toilet and shit it out so I can see."

       He pulled out and I reached up to pull the lid down.  He sat on the floor and put his head near the bowl as I evacuated the various fluids.  "That's so disgusting.  Oh my lord, you are dripping from you little cooter, there.  It's dripping into the bowl."  I had wanted him in my pussy but he had left it unused and neglected.  Now he was remarking on how hungry and unfed it was.  I was so humiliated, my eyes were clenched shut.  My breathing was quick and erratic as my eyes welled with tears.  "Look.  You're crying.  And we're not even close to being done, here.  You better pull yourself together, cunt." 

       And I did.  Somehow, I put myself together, shut the tears off.  I could feel the cleansing powder tighten on my body as the water dried from it.  He took some paper from the roll and cleaned my anus for me.  He pinched both my nipples and brought me to standing by pulling them up.  He had me lick his asshole on my knees while he cleaned his penis in the sink.  I was eager about it, licking vigorously, sticking my tongue inside, trying my best to ingratiate myself to him.

       Then he filled the bucket with water and threw the water all over the floor.  He did this until it was covered, the excess flowing down the drain.  He sprayed the floor with cleaner and grabbed the mop.  I went to take it but he said, "No.  Get on your hands and knees, put your chest on the floor.  There you go.  You're the mop, today."  He put the mop handle into my vagina.  He pushed me around the floor this way.  "Clean it.  Get it clean."  I didn't know what he wanted me to do.  I frantically rubbed the floor with my hands, feeling the grouting between the tiles rub and torture my now tender breasts as he pushed the handle cruelly into my vagina.  It was so slippery, it was difficult to just keep myself in the correct position.  I grunted with every shove from the handle.  He knocked my head into the wall a few times which made him laugh in a satisfied sort of way.  When we'd covered the floor a couple of times over, he removed the handle and kicked me so I was on my back.  Then he rinsed me and the floor together with buckets full of water. 

       I thought, the urinals are all that's really left.  The sinks won't be too bad.  They couldn't be.  Then I had a horrible thought.  This is only one room.  Followed by an even worse thought.  I'm his for two days.

       I was right about the sinks.  He just had me clean them as he watched.  The urinals weren't as bad as I expected.  He put the handle of the hand brush in my ass and had me use my ass to clean them.  It didn't get them clean by any stretch of the imagination but he didn't seem to mind that.  I felt such relief I wanted to cry again but I had forgotten something. 

       The funnel. 

       He picked it up and said, "I have to pee, now."  I was quivering as he handed me the funnel.  "Lie on your back, put this in your pussy and grab your knees.  Pull it back until the funnel is straight up."  I did.  I lay there for what seemed forever.  I was waiting to receive his urine.  He wanted me to wait to receive it.  He finally kneeled at my ass and directed his penis into the funnel.  And he urinated.  I could feel the warm of it running into me, filling me, filling the funnel and coming out of my from around it.  It ran down my pelvis and my ass.  Then he stood over me, staring, stroking himself until almost all of it had seeped out of the side of the funnel, out of my vagina. 

       He lay me flat on my back, cleaned me with the toilet brush after, rinsed me with a bucket of water and put the toilet brush handle back in my pussy.  He began walking around me in circles. 

       "This lesson was your first and most important.  It was your dignity lesson.  You are to have no dignity.  If we ever start thinking you feel dignity, you will get more dignity lessons.  You will get worse dignity lessons.  Your dignity lesson is not quite over.  Many out there have been waiting to use the bathroom.  They will now be let in to do so.  One at a time.  And you will assist each one according to his requests.  I'll be here the whole time to watch."  He removed the brush and stood me up.

       And, one by one, they came in.  I spent the next hour wiping asses, licking asses as men urinated, straddling men so they could suck and bite my breasts as they defecated.  I washed their hands for them.  And the lesson was quite learned.  I felt so debased, I could not possibly ever think there was something I deserved. 

       When it was over, he asked me what I thought and I told him I thought I had learned the lesson.

       "Why do you say that?"

       "When you had me lick your ass, I felt grateful.  I was worthless to you and meaningless and you could have easily had me clean your penis with my mouth.  And I was so thankful that this didn't happen to be your whim.  Because your whim is what commands me.  I fear it.  I am at its mercy.  It's all that matters and I will do anything to please it."

       "Are you trying to ingratiate yourself to me?  You think you can manipulate me into feeling sorry for you?"  There was anger in his voice. 

       "No, sir."  I felt my heart race.

       "I will never pity you."  I couldn't breathe.  This was not the reaction I was expecting.

       "I recognize that, sir."  I felt nauseated.

       "Then what are you saying?"  I wanted to run as fast as I could.

       "I think I am saying...I am telling you that...I fear you the most.  When I serviced those other men, it was for you.  I feel like you are my owner.  I know you aren't.  I know you won't really have this power over me much longer.  You won't have me to yourself.  But I will still feel like you do, I think.  I even felt that yesterday, with the commander.  I don't know what that means.  I don't know why I'm saying it.  There's something about you.  I just..."

       He suddenly grabbed my breast, wrapped his other arm around my back, pulled me close and kissed my mouth, sticking his tongue down my throat, pinching my nipple hard and pulling it. 

       "You do belong to me.  You are not to tell anybody else this.  It will be our understanding that you truly, in your heart, belong to me.  I will give you special assignments to have you demonstrate this to me but this must also be our secret.  What about your husband?  How do you feel about him?"

       "I'm afraid to say."

       "Look, we don't care about gay.  We only use that to arrest people we want to arrest...for other reasons.  Hell, Murond is gay.  He'll only really ever get blow jobs from you.  He's pretending you are a guy."

       "Oh..."

       "Yeah, why the comment about cumming on your tits pissed him off.  I think Murond assumes everybody knows but, honestly, some of the people here are very slow on the uptake."

       "Yes, my husband is gay.  He is my best friend in the whole world but I do not love him.  Not like that."

       "Do you think you could come to love me.  I am a cruel man but I want you to love me as well as fear me.  Do you think you could?"

       "I don't know."

       "But you will serve me as your one true master?"

       "Yes."  I felt his fingers pinch hard on my nipple.  I let out a gasp.  "Yes, sir."

       "Good.  We'll do that.  We'll see how it goes."  I told myself I was lying to bring ease to my situation but, somewhere in me I knew I spoke the truth.  "Leave the door to your apartment unlocked at all times.  Even in the day when you are gone.  This is the first thing you will do for me."        

       "Yes, sir."

       "Good.  I'll take you to the break area where you can rest a bit before your next lesson."

       I put the dress back on.  I felt it rub my nipples even more, now that they were sore from the pinching and biting.  I was reeling at what had just happened, at what I had just said to Darns, at the hell I'd probably just opened up for myself.  In the break room, I drank a cup of tea with Darns sitting across from me.  A couple of officers came in and sat at either side of me.  Occasionally, one would feign the need to reach over to the other and run his arm across my breasts as he did so.  Darns watched with amusement.  One handed the other his drink and, in an obviously intentional accident, spilled some on my breast.  He apologized and took great time to clean it.  I sat stoicly as Darns' smile widened.  When they finally left, Darns said, "Time for your next lesson."

       Through the fear, I hoped that in this one at least, I'd be given some release.