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MODEL FOR HIRE
Jodi gets initiated with her first trip to the rehabilitation complex she’ll be frequenting after some of her more strenuous assignments. A paradox of treatments by the staff, one female doctor in particular beginning to take an interest in her and she’s ready for her next adventure.
Chapter Six
Huddled on the backseat wrapped in a terrycloth robe allowed her by the chauffeur, the long pain filled night’s finally come to an end as the limo slowly drives away from the mansion on the winding driveway. Tears staining her cheeks, wrists cuffed, arms crossed behind her back, she glances down at the parting robe only partially covering her chest. Her proud breasts finally freed from the constant agonizing abuse, hours of being the center of sadistic attention from the group of women, they’re barely recognizable.
The aching melons equally abused from an endless nightmare of being scraped, clamped, pinpricked, she wishes she could just cup, massage them as even the swaying motion of the car causes them to ache, pulse with pain as their bruised swelling distorts them beyond recognition. Her orifices between her legs also more then sore, practically torn, her pierced clit still pulsing, she closes her eyes, exhausted from the deprivation of sleep, the relentless mental and physical onslaught by the group on her ravaged body. The session lasting much longer then her endurance, way into the early daylight hours, she feels the jolting of the tires entering onto the pavement from the private drive’s uneven bricks leading to the gentle motion of the limousine on the flat highway, much smoother as she curls on her side across the leather seat, closes her eyes. The sedative the chauffer gave her along with the use of the robe’s beginning to work; her mind blanking as she drifts into a state of semi consciousness.
Several days passing, that night still graphically etched in her mind, again awakening at the morning’s sunlight glaring past the open curtains, she slides out of bed, takes her mandatory bath, does the mandatory shaving of her body from the neck down, draws her hair strictly straight back behind her ears. While drying herself off with a full, fluffy bath towel, looking out the multi paned window toward the manicured grounds from her tidy, efficiently furnished room she glances back toward her reflection from the dresser mirror.
Her nude body’s finally virtually void of the remnants of her unforgettable night with the cougars, especially her resilient breasts; thankfully back to being normal, globular. Turning, twisting, she thinks to herself, was it four, maybe five nights ago, it could have been as much as a week since she was delivered to this place barely coherent. Numerous soaking baths, body lotions, soothing massages by staff masseurs as she’s healed, she’s felt pampered at times, but for the most part also intimidated, restricted to her role as a submissive.
Again looking out the window toward the handful of uniformed people milling around beneath the multi story mansion, an occasional nude woman much like herself being accompanied for what’s a morning exercise, she’s come to realize that the employees including the medial staff are always dressed in white hospital attire, while the patients, always female, not so. Prohibited from any clothing at all, even when allowed the brief outdoor jaunts in the rear gardens herself, she’s become almost numb to the observations of her nudity by any of the staff.
Again thinking how the treatment of her has been so surreal, pleasant and courteous on one hand, cruel and dominative on the other, she’s learned quickly to follow a short list of instructions, rigid instructions besides the morning baths and being kept naked. Eyes must remain always lowered, mouth and legs forbidden to be closed, palms always outward and finally never, never speaking unless directly instructed to do so, the slightest diversion is awarded demerits and each evening has its demerit sessions of accountability.
So far the punishments for her infractions in general have not been too severe as far as inflicted pain, but instead strenuous and humiliating workouts. Again in the nude, singled out in front of an alternating group chosen from the mixed staff and at least two other patients, she’s been forced to perform obscene exercises, humiliatingly stretching, contorting on command, the pains of her healing wounds ignored. But, the threat of corporal punishment is also real, the sounds echoing from the discipline room down the hall can be heard almost nightly also, the whimpers, sometimes shrieks of women’s voices overlapping the obvious cracks of leather striking bare flesh, or worse.
Hearing those sounds, the pains are relived by her own memories of the past couple weeks. Obviously the rambling winged mansion housing more then just her, she’s yet to actually be allowed any contact with another patient, submissive, whatever. Kept isolated except for the punishment sessions, she’s only been allowed to be in the presence of the staff as she wonders where it’s all leading too, what the future holds.
A polite, courtesy tap on the door as always, it swings open with an orderly and female doctor stepping into the room. Turning, lowering her eyes she automatically assumes the expected pose to be inspected by the doctor. Fingers locking behind her neck, legs spreading apart, breasts thrust outward as she arches, she feels the fingers examining her breasts, her vagina, finally her rectum. Remaining motionless, no eye contact, virtually silent, she barely glances toward the male orderly with his clipboard in hand, more then interested in watching her nude body go through the daily routine.
Sensing the doctor stepping behind her, she feels the hands cupping beneath her globular mounds as they do each morning and evening as every examination brings the same manipulations by this doctor. Responding to the thumb tips gently fluttering across her puckering nipples as the fingers softly tighten into her firm tit flesh, the sensation’s noticeably more soothing with each exam prolonged just a little longer.
“Her breasts are fine… All swelling, discoloring negligible… Available for service.” She hears the business like voice state matter of factly from behind her. Feeling the hands sliding down across her waist, one cupping her shaved pubic mound, the other slipping between her spread butt cheeks, she senses the fingers probing her slit, her rectum simultaneously, firm, yet somehow gently. “Orifices normal… Also available for use.” The fingers slipping away, the doctor stepping back toward the orderly, a quick glance at the clipboard, she adds. “The client can be informed their submissive is available for their next assignment for her this afternoon… Everything is functional and presentable.”
Glancing toward Jodi with a knowing smile as they step back toward the hallway after the orderly drops some clothing across the bed, she adds. “Your stay here this time was short… Next time may be longer from what I understand… And much sooner then you can imagine… You’ll undoubtedly be under my personal care much longer when you’re brought back!... But for now, you’ll be leaving us for the afternoon.” Nodding toward the garments on the bed, she adds. “That’s what they sent for you to wear for your next presentation… Now go ahead and get dressed…. Make sure it’s nice and tight or it’ll have to be adjusted, and believe me… You won’t want that!”
The door shutting in front of her as she momentarily remains transfixed in place; she feels the pit of her stomach knotting at the ominous remarks. Hesitantly lowering her hands and crossing her arms beneath her breasts, remembering their brutal treatments, the pain, she again glances out the window toward the kept grounds, slowly following the wavering lines of the tall chain link fence visible in spots along the clusters of trees at the edge of the forest surrounding the compound, standing out and contrasting with the tranquil setting.
A pair of black stilettos and a matching color corset, nothing else lying on the bed, she steps over, slips the boned ribbed garment around her waist, the narrowing hourglass design sinking into her stomach. Her breasts lifting above the rigid curving form rising to just above her ribcage, her nipples jaunt outward from her separating globular mounds. Tugging on the front drawstrings, the corset cinching her waist even tighter, her breasts pressing further outward, she leans over, hand on bed and fastens the tops of the stilettos around her ankles as she lowers a foot into them one at a time.
As she stands upright, the confining corset circles just above the smooth fleshy curves of her hips, around the small of her back, exposes the matching dimples above her butt cheeks, exposes her pubic mound, her labium. Approaching the mirror, then back toward the bed in awkward short steps, breasts bouncing, her calves flexing from the lift of the stilettos, she again stares out the window at the serene backdrop, notices the black limousine in the distance making its way up the driveway to the rear of the house.
Watching it park along the back veranda, recognizing the now familiar limousine, the chauffeur getting out, she watches as he walks around, opens the rear door. Wondering what he’s doing if he’s here to pick her up, noticing he’s waiting, someone’s in the back seat. Her heart picks up a beat as she sees the girl clumsily stepping out onto the pavement. Bound, hands crisscrossed behind her neck, her bulging breasts almost obscenely wobble as she arches painfully forward nearly stumbling as the chauffeur catches her. The welts, bruises scattered across her naked body front and back are clearly visible even from the height of the room’s window.
Gripping her own breasts in a reflexively sympathetic gesture as she can almost feel the pain herself, cupping them, squeezing both, she recognizes the girl struggling from the car. Realizing she’s Danni and that her swollen breasts are actually in some kind of bindings, thin wires not only looped around the tortured globes but crisscrossed around and over the compressed nipples she apprehensively leans closer to the glass, forcing her own breasts to flatten against her chest as she bites her lower lip, watches the chauffeur helping the girl shuffle beneath the canopy, out of sight.
Taking short breaths while awaiting the tap on the closed door signaling her departure, her stay the past few days a paradox of emotions; she feels her body trembling, her heart pounding, thinking of the other girl, herself, the future. Then the footsteps, the tap on the door, it opens.
“Time!”
The young orderly, his first time with Jodi, stands beside the door nodding toward the hall, back toward her, his eyes obviously transfixed, focused on her displayed breasts bulging above the black hourglass corset, the twin mounds in an erotically flowing motion as she takes a step, another. More steps and her breasts begin to sway in sequence, just enough to tantalize with the jiggling motions of her nipples. Hands down toward her sides, shoulders arched back, palms facing forward, her lips remain parted as she steps past him into the hallway, stops.
Shutting the door, almost nervously he steps beside her, reaches up and cups her right breast. His other hand following suit, he barely squeezes, spreads the melons outward pressing the under globes across the hem of the corset like he’s trying to adjust them. His fingers spreading, his thumbs press across the nipples, slightly flicking back and forth at the hardening nubs as he glances toward hr face, back toward her breasts.
“I… I was told how damn big these titties were!” His whispering voice almost like a schoolboy’s, another squeeze with his left hand, his right slips down across the corset. Those fingers sliding across her pubic mound, his fingers noticeably twitching as they slide between her thighs, she feels a finger pressing, circling her clit as his other thumb and forefinger continue to pinch and tug at her nipple.
Remaining motionless, realizing she has no choice, she allows him to have his fun, to finger her, to play with her breasts as she stares forward toward the wall, lips parted. Feeling a hand running across her butt cheeks, down her thighs, back toward her vagina, the other hand remains higher, manipulating her breasts, her nipples being tweaked, tugged a little harsher, pinched and twisted as he seems to progress from being almost shy to starting to inflict some pain.
Hearing a stirring down the hallway, down the stairwell, the familiar voice of the chauffeur with the female doctor’s, the orderly drops his hand from her thighs, glances toward the stairs. Finger and thumb still clamping on her right nipple, he glances at her, back down the hall.
‘’Come on… Come with me.” Stepping ahead of her, still gripping the nipple, he leads her toward the stairs, slow steps with her breast stretching out above the corset, the stoic, submissive look remaining on her face as she follows his instructions, even as her nipple stretches between his fingers. To the stairs, down them, she’s led to the chauffeur, the doctor.
“Here… Here she is!” He almost blurts, releasing her nipple. ‘’She’s ready!”
“Almost.” The chauffeur corrects as he reaches up and slips a black chocker collar around her throat, steps behind her and slips a pair of cuffs on her wrists, locking them together behind her back, forcing her bare breasts further outward. Attaching a leader to the front of the collar, he adds. “Now she is… And it’s time for her next assignment.”
“Yes.” The doctor softly smiles, adjusting the collar just right on Jodi’s neck as their eyes lock. “Then it’s right back to me… Tomorrow!” Letting her fingers slide down the rounded curves of the globular mounds, her fingers gently tweaking both nipples simultaneously, she adds. “Right after her private overnight one on one visit to the cougar’s mansion.”
End part Six
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