Chapter 7 - Prepped For Pleasure
The spectators looked down expectantly through the glass ceiling of the
operating theatre to watch Doctor Chan work his surgical magic. The stainless
steel operating table rose to a small bump in the middle so that any bodily
fluids would drain outwards from the centre into the gutter that surrounded it.
The naked female protester was strapped belly-down on the table. Her shapely
legs were spread wide by the ankle cuffs. Another strap was cinched tight around
her waist to hold her down. Her bare torso arched up from the table. Her chin
rested on the top of a padded T-shaped bar. The head clamps were fastened to the
bar and held her head securely for the operation. Her wrists were cuffed to
either end of the T.
The nude protestor was totally exposed. The audience could see it all. Her
perfect nipples were erect with fear. Between her parted thighs, her small slit
looked nice and tight. Her mouth was wrapped around an O-ring, really a short
length of pipe strapped in place, with grooves in the top and bottom for her
small, white teeth. The bottom of the pipe acted as a tongue depressor,
preventing any meaningful comment from emerging from the patient. It also
prevented her from swallowing her spit, so a steady dribble of drool ran from
her mouth, oozed onto the table and drained into the surrounding gutter. The gag
graciously allow her to scream, drool and vomit freely.
Dr. Chan smiled up at the audience. He squeezed the bum of his patient
reassuringly.
"Don't worry, honey. This day will change your life and you'll be forever
grateful to me!"
The audience chuckled as the protester said something into her O-gag,
presumably in the way of protest and outrage. It was hard to tell just what she
was saying. It emerged from the gag as meaningless baby-talk babble. Nobody in
the audience cared. Her protest and outrage would be a thing of the past after
the operation. Dr. Chan was always delighted to explain this, the crux of his
method. The rest was really just enjoyable window-dressing. He held up his
gloved hands for silence and got it.
"It is well known that the human brain brain possesses both pain and
pleasure centres. After years of experimentation on political misfits like this
stupid bimbo here, these have been mapped and can be reliably located in
anybody. The technique is fairly straightforward. We hammer a small tube through
the skull. We thread an electrode though the tube and guide it to the exact
location of a pleasure or pain centre so that we can electrically stimulate it
at will. We insert four electrodes: two to pleasure centres, two to pain
centres. The second set of pain-pleasure electrodes is just back-up for the
first set."
He grinned at his horror stricken patient.
"We use no anaesthetic as the brain has no pain receptors and can't directly
feel pain at all. The skull has a small number of pain receptors so our patient
will feel no more pain than a woman getting her ears pierced. Some of you people
may worry that the skull will shatter if something is driven into it. That is
what happens when you try to drive something into a cadaver's skull. It
shatters. A living skull is very different. It's a lot like hammering a nail
into wood, really. It's a technique that has been used on laboratory animals for
years."
He held up something that looked like a nail gun.
"I have designed a special tool for punching the slim tubes through the
skull. It's a lot like a nail gun delivering a very precise blow, with just
enough force to seat the small tube flush with the surface of the skull. The
nurse will shave four exactly placed small areas on the patient's head, each
area a few centimetres wide. They will be completely masked by her hair after
the operation."
The specially trainined surgical nurse, smiling prettily for the audience,
used a straight razor to shave four precise areas on the moaning patient's
skull.
"Now we drive in the tubes."
Dr. Chan aimed the gun carefully. The nude patient squealed and flinched
violently four times as he squeezed the trigger, planting a tube in each of the
four places. A stream of urine ran down the table between her wide-spread legs
and into the gutter.
"Nothing to it! Now, we insert the electrodes. First the two pleasure
electrodes."
He carefully threaded the slim electrodes through the tubes.
"It's easy to test if we have positioned them properly. We simply apply a
small current to the electrode."
He suited the action to the word. The protester's pupils dilated as she
flushed brick red and moaned ecstatically. Her cuntlips were fully distended:
wet, red and dripping for action. She shuddered, her naked body taut and
straining in repeated mindless, pornerastic orgasm. The audience applauded
enthusiastically.
"Let's try the other pleasure electrode."
He turned off the juice and the protester's body went limp. He flipped on
the other electrode and she tightened once more in unbeatable orgasmic ecstacy.
"Now we plant the pain electrodes."
He suited the action to the word.
"Now we test them."
Twice, the sweating, nude protester jerked insanely, screamed impossibly
high and shit herself. The nurse hosed her down after they were done.
"Now, we cap the electrodes. Skin will grow over them and cover them
completely. The amount of current needed is very small and is supplied through
inductance."
Applause rang out enthusiastically for Dr. Chan, a man who produced the most
eager to please bitches in the world. It was definitely a miracle of modern
science.
