Erica deconstructed

Part 1

I had been a little afraid of Debra, ever since that time a few months ago. I talked with her about my curiosity about “what the subs feel”, but it was only that CURIOSITY. I never thought she’d introduce me to submission by drugging me and then keeping me for a 3-day weekend of torment and heavy use. It was awful, frightening . . . but wonderful too, in a strange warped way. It did start me thinking differently, maybe I wasn’t as Domme as I thought I was? I was angry with her for a time, but she had been my very best friend for years and we gradually drifted back into that friendship again.

Months later, we were at my home having drinks again. I was still keeping a watchful eye on her and on my drink. While I was still aroused by what she did to me that time, I DIDN’T want it to happen again. But after a couple of drinks I felt that tired, fatigued, weak feeling . . . and I recognized it! OH NO! HOW had she managed it this time, I KNOW I watched her like a Hawk. She gently lifted my head in her hands, looked me in the smiling sweetly, and said “don’t worry Erica honey, this will be the last time I do this to you. The last thing I remembered were those words, and the strange smile on her lovely face . . .

_______________________________

When I awoke, I felt stiff and sore, and still so very tired. I was groggy and as I tried to get up and clear my head, I realized I couldn’t. As my eyes focused and I regained my senses I saw where I was. In an operating room! And it got worse; as I tried to turn my head to look around I found I couldn’t do it, and my jaws ached – my mouth was clamped open wide, I wanted to sit up, to RUN, but I couldn’t do that either. I could feel the straps holding me tightly to the table, immobilized with my legs spread wide apart and my arms out to my sides in a “crucified” position. Then a couple of faces came into view, Debra, then Suzanne (both nurses I work with, and I too am a nurse) then Leslie, a doctor we all know. And she was holding a long forceps in one hand and a scalpel in the other. OH MY GOD! I was terrified, some of the fantasies I’d shared with these women, too awful to contemplate, and starting just where I now lay . . . helpless. Debra said to Leslie, “we may as well get started now”. What did that mean? I tried to talk to them, ask them what they intended to do, but because of the mouth clamp it just came out as garbled and babbling, not actual human speech. Then I saw Suzanne at my head holding the anesthesia mask and felt a needle jab into my arm. I started getting drowsy again as the mask was pressed over my face, staring in terror at the instruments Leslie held in her hand, and that’s the last I remember . . .

_______________________________

A week later:

I awake, groggy, blurry-eyed, feeling a bit like a hangover. I open my eyes and see that I am in my own bedroom at home, and it gives me a feeling of comfort. Did Debra and I drink THAT much? But it slowly comes back to me . . . and I start to feel frightened, then as more comes back to me . . . terrified! I try to move, but find again that I can’t. That sense of comfort from being in my own room is GONE! I am able to turn my head so I look around and verify that I am indeed in my own bedroom, but there are oxygen tubes running into my nostrils, and I see an I.V. set-up beside my bed and the tube seems to run up towards my neck . . . that’s odd I think. I’m covered with a sheet up to my neck so I can’t see my body. I can’t really feel my arms and legs but I can tell my legs are spread wide apart and I can’t seem to close them. And now it registers that my jaws ache. I try to work them to ease the discomfort, but I can’t seem to close my mouth. I remember the clamp, it’s probably there again . . . but I can’t feel it, I just know that I can’t close my mouth. Then I see Debra and Suzanne come in and lean over me, and they are soon joined by Suzanne’s daughter Natalie. I ask Debra, “what is this, what are you doing to me”? But all I hear are tiny grunts and squeaks, very faint . . . and it hurts my throat to talk. I just don’t have the energy. Suzanne turns to Debra and asks, “she doesn’t know yet, does she”? Debra smiles and shakes her head “no”.

Suzanne checks my heartbeat, listens to my lungs, then pulls back the sheet and prods at my shoulders. It’s painful and I now register the ache in my shoulders, it is quite painful. Then she pulls the sheet back to reveal my legs (although I can’t see them I can feel it) and I feel her fingers on my upper thighs and my crotch. Again a throbbing pain begins where she has just touched me. I whimper, and I can feel tears building in my eyes.  She turns to Debra and says, “it’s doing just fine, everything is exactly as you wanted and healing nicely”. I see Natalie lean over my lower body holding a syringe, and I feel a sharp, deep thrust of needle into my thigh. I begin to “get fuzzy” again, and I have a fleeting half-thought, “but it was in my arm last time”?  Then Natalie and pulls the sheet back over me, and as I start to go under again I hear the door close.

I am in and out of consciousness, never fully awake for long. I have no sense of time passing. I see Debra, Suzanne and Natalie come it and do various “inspections” of me and treat me much as a seriously ill patient in a hospital. I know, I’ve done this sort of thing when I was a hospital nurse. Sometimes my shoulders and my crotch ache horribly, and if I try to speak it hurts and no real speech comes out anyway, so eventually I stop trying. Eventually my throat doesn’t ache, then my crotch stops hurting, and last of all my shoulders. I still can’t close my mouth but eventually the ache in my wide-stretched jaws subsides also. But my mouth remains immobilized in a wide-open position. I am kept awake for longer periods, Natalie feeds me soups and puddings, not easy with my mouth clamped open. In time I learn to swallow that way if small portions of soft foods and placed in my mouth. Sometime they come in to look me over, sometimes I’m left alone with my thoughts, and those are most unpleasant times. I still have no idea what has happened to me, but all the possibilities terrify me. I cry often, scream sometimes (although it comes out as a small, shrill squeal . . . an animal sound to my ears). I really try NOT to think, and am sometimes successful in that, just emptying my mind and “being”. When I do “think” and wonder the thoughts are so awful that I must try hard to push them out of my mind. I feel no pain anymore, although I am still unable to move, speak or close my mouth.

At some point Mimi, a woman we know who is a tattoo artist and piercer comes to see me along with Debra and Suzanne. She stands looking at me for a while, then says to Debra, “yeah, what we talked about . . . no problem at all”. She gets her piercing forceps and stretches my tongue out. Then the piercing right at the tip. I don’t see what she puts in, it hurts but not too badly (Truly, I have never been pierced anywhere except my ears many, many years ago). Then she is working inside my mouth and she pierces through from under my tongue out through my chin, just behind the jawbone. This one hurts and I give a squeal. Then she inserts the stud. Debra looks closely at my tear-streaked face (it all hurt more than I expected it too, especially the one through the bottom of my mouth). “Good”, she says, “those rings look about right. Then my nipples are done, and more pain. I’ve never had a very high pain threshold and I’m sure many woman wouldn’t feel it so much. I know there are rings in them too, even though no one says anything. I’m waiting for my vagina lips or clit to be next, but no, everyone just leaves the room, leaving me whimpering.

Three weeks later:

Now I just lie in my bed all day. Not put out any more, just normal sleep (although that is fitful and troubled). I try not to wonder what’s happening to me anymore. I have my legs fastened to the corners of the bed so I can’t close them. I’ve discovered they are padlocked there, as Natalie has started to release me every day for bathing, feeding, etc. She always puts a snug blindfold on when she does this, and I do wonder why that is. And I seem to have lost sensation in my arms. I feel only a constant dull numbness, almost painful but not quite. I think that my arms have been strapped tight behind me that they have lost all sensation.  I flex them, I move my fingers, but I can’t really feel it. And my abdomen is always strapped down too. I can turn my head slightly but not really see much. My jaw seems to have grown used to being held wide open. Nothing really aches anymore, but still I can’t feel my arms. I avoid thinking about why this might be, but I have occasional flashes of clarity and horror, but I close my mind to them as quickly as I can.

But there is something gnawing away at my mind. I’ve wondered about, thought about, fantasized about becoming a helpless 24/7/365 slave property for someone, perhaps even reduced to an object. It aroused me when I was a Domme fantasizing about doing it to other women, and it aroused me when I thought about it happening to me. And something REAL has happened (is happening?) to me now. I occasionally get feelings of arousal, but nowhere as strong as I used to by just fantasizing about things. They say “the fantasy is better than the reality” and maybe that’s true, maybe that’s why I can’t get really, really aroused. It’s disappointing to me that I seem to have lost so much of my sex drive.

I think if I can get to my clit or breasts I can work myself up, but I can’t move my arms and try as I might I can’t get my legs anywhere close to together so I can “grind one out” myself, hands free. I’ve done it often before. And I’ve been a sex-crazed, compulsive masturbator since I was in my early teens and first discovered my clit. I would often masturbate several (or MANY) time a day, whenever I had a bit of private time, and not always quite “private” at that. I don’t think a day ever went by without at least one orgasm for me. It’s frustrating now, and somehow I don’t wonder why it’s not so much MORE frustrating. On that long week-end when Debra kept me in bondage for three days, I got no orgasms until the end of the last day. I was exploding with desire when she finally gave me one and I thought I would have a heart attack then and there. And over the next few days I couldn’t keep my hands off myself, re-living that week-end in my mind. I should feel more aroused and frustrated than I do. But I suppose I should be thankful that I’m not, since I’m in no position to satisfy any sexual frustration on my part.

_______________________________

A month later:

One day, right after Natalie has finished bathing me and washing, drying and brushing my hair, Debra comes into the room where I’ve been kept. Debra says to Natalie, “she looks great, you’ve been doing a fantastic job maintaining her, but now we need to get her ready for the buyer.” I am blindfolded as always so I can’t see either of them, or anything for that matter. Quick as a wink a chain drops down from the ceiling in the center of the room and I feel a high, tight posture collar being tightened around my throat. Then the chain is fastened to the collar and I hear and feel an electric lift pulling the chain until I am standing with my legs together. Then two pairs of hands, one at each ankle, fastening leather cuffs tight around my ankles. More sounds of chains and the lift motor, then I feel my legs being pulled slowly apart. Now they are spread wide enough that I am forced to stand on my tip-toes. I feel one of them snapping some sort of a fitting on my tongue piercing. Then my tongue is stretched out and down, and I feel it being fastened to the ring that was put into my chin. This has never been done before and it hurts, feels as if my tongue is being pulled out entirely.

Then I hear Debra say, “go ahead and take off the blindfold, she may as well see what I’ve made her into.” I don’t like those words, I feel very frightened, as if something that has been lurking in my mind is going to come out . . . and I don’t want it to. I feel the blindfold being unlocked and un-buckled, and then my eyes are clear. I have to blink against the light, which seems brighter than I remember it. I haven’t seen Debra for some time, only Natalie, when she comes to clean, feed or evacuate me. I tilt my head down against the pressure of the collar and chain which is pulling my head up. I want to see them both now. I blink my vision clear, and I do see both of the women, but I also see a large, full-length mirror exactly opposite me, and I see myself in that mirror, and I scream . . .

Of course the scream comes out as only a guttural moan, my silencing was effective. I knew I had been silenced and accepted it, but now! And I must have realized this subconsciously, but when it came into my mind I pushed it out again. Too awful for me to acknowledge . . . but now I must. Through the tears rolling down my face I see that my arms are GONE! Oh my God, what has she done to me, I think? But then Debra comes up close to me and I feel her hand slide between my legs and rub seductively. But I feel nothing real, only a memory of arousal, what I should be feeling but I’m not. Another thing I don’t want to know, don’t want to face; not this too, please not this! Debra turns to Natalie and smiles, saying, “No sensitivity at all, they did a good job on her. And nice and pink and smooth, as if she never even had a clit!” I scream and scream again, but what comes out is almost nothing, just animal sounds. Being able to scream would have helped release the horror at what has been done to me, but even the screams are denied me. Tears are flowing down my face like a river, and now I notice that a stream of saliva is running from my clamped-open mouth down between my breasts. I’m in shock, in my mind I have become nothing, nothing at all.

Orgasms were my greatest joy in life. I masturbated constantly and had probably never gone a day without at least one since I was in my mid-teens. And now . . . never again! I mourn this more than the loss of my voice and my arms. I know there will never be that exquisite pleasure for me, NEVER again!

Then Debra says to Natalie, “Let her adjust to it for a while. The buyers will be here in about 2 hours, so be sure you come in and clean her up again for them. “The buyers”? What does that mean? Am I to be sold? Then they leave the room. Leave me there staring into the mirror they had carefully placed for me at what I have become, what I have been made into, sobbing, drooling, helpless and hopeless.

To be continued . . .

Erica deconstructed

Part 2

Natalie comes into the room and begins to wash my tears away and wipe me down all over, and a few minutes later Suzanne comes in and says, “Miss Debra is with the buyers now. I’m to let her know when you’ve finished with her so they can all come in and inspect the merchandise.” “Sure mom”, replies Natalie, “I’ll only be a few minutes now.” I’m not crying any more, my mind is numb, I can’t, and don’t want to, think. I just lie there, yes, like a product on display. When Natalie is done with me, I can see in the mirror that I am “presentable” again, except for my red eyes. Nothing to be done about that though. Suzanne walks up to me smiling broadly, looks me in the eyes, and says, “you know you deserve this don’t you?” I can’t answer and she doesn’t really want one. She laughs, turns away, and leaves the room. In a couple of minutes Debra comes back in along with Suzanne and two beautiful Mexican women. I know the older one, she is in her late 30’s, her name is Yvonne, and she is someone Debra and I both worked for at one time. I know she is very wealthy, and a member of a Mexican family who controls a large part of one of the states there. If she is “the buyer”, I know I will never be seen alive again in the USA. My heart is pounding and my head is throbbing, and I can think of nothing, only stare at her and the younger woman.

Yvonne and the other one, a girl I see now, mid-teens in age I think, come over and start to rub their hands along my body; to “inspect” me . . . and I know that’s exactly what they are doing. She turns to Debra and says, “this is my daughter, Maya. This one, she nods her head towards me as she speaks, is to be her 15th birthday gift.” Yvonne squeezes my thigh and says to Debra, “I’ve always admired those beautiful legs of hers, it’s really a shame . . . !? Personally I would have stopped with the vocal cords, clit and arms. And your suggestion to put in that jaw implant that holds her pretty mouth always open was brilliant, I love that.

But her daughter interrupts with, “mama, you PROMISED. THIS is what I want!” She shows Debra and her mother a drawing and I see it too for just a moment.

But it is stuck in my mind forever! I start to whimper and cry again. Oh no, please. I’m thinking, Debra, PLEASE . . . NO!” Debra and Yvonne turn away leaving her daughter to stroke and pinch my helpless body, a cruel, evil gleam in her pretty, dark eyes. Yvonne says to Debra, “it’s something she found on the internet and she asked me . . . ? I thought you could help and now I see exactly what you can do, just like you said. If it was for me I would stop here, I like very much what you’ve done with this one, and with that she gives my butt a slap. But I promised my Maya what she wanted for her birthday; an older woman fixed like that, so I have to go ahead and have you finish it for her.”

_______________________________

So much is a blur now. I only remember waking up in bed now and then, feeling strange and light-headed. My arms itched and ached, and my legs too, but I couldn’t seem to scratch them. Everything felt cramped, I wanted to move, to sit up, but I couldn’t. I had forgotten what led up to this, I just thought I was sick, but recovering. And every time I awoke, I soon drifted back into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Then one day as I looked up at the woman who had been caring for me (Natalie, my friend’s daughter, I remembered her) as she was gently washing me. I could see her turn her head and see her lips move, as if she were speaking to another person in the room . . . but I couldn’t hear a thing. Total silence, so complete I could almost “hear” the lack of sound. Then the people she was talking to, came to my side and leaned over me, and I could see them too, and watch their lips move, but I couldn’t hear anything. I was puzzled. And the two women looked familiar, a beautiful late 30’s Spanish woman I was certain I had met before and another younger one, just a teenager, but even more beautiful. But as I stared at them I began to remember, and it suddenly hit me . . . I remembered who they were, what had been done to me! Yvonne, my former friend and her daughter Maya! Oh no, I thought, OH NO!!!!

In my mind I screamed and screamed, but I knew that all they heard were soft, shrill squeals and moans, as I sobbed uncontrollably. I could feel tears streaming down my cheeks. Oh god, I was SO helpless, so, so helpless . . .

Then Leslie, the surgeon, came into my tear-blurred view. I “saw” them talking, and saw Maya point at my eyes. Then Maya put her fingers into my mouth and spread my jaws open wide as she and Leslie talked. While I was unable to hear them talk I knew what they were talking about. OH MY GOD! Leslie smiled and nodded her head, Maya beamed and smiled so widely, she hopped up and down like a child (which I suppose she was, but in a woman’s body) clapping her hands. She hugged and kissed her mother and then for good measure, kissed Leslie too. I saw Leslie’s extended finger come towards one of my eyes. I could see that the tip of it held a large opaque black contact lens. The other fingers spread my eyelids open wide and she touched the contact lens against my eyeball, blocking out the vision entirely. I moaned and whined, but it meant nothing to any of them, and Leslie quickly inserted one into my other eye. Oh God, oh God I thought . . . no voice, no hearing, no sight, no arms, no legs, no sexual organs. What WAS I now, was I anything? But I knew that I WAS something, something dreadful . . . a toy for selfish, greedy little Maya! Then I felt my torso rolled on its side and felt the sharp pain of a needle being thrust deep into my buttock . . . then I began to drift away . . .

_______________________________

At some later point (I couldn’t know when, all sense of time was gone for me) I came half awake. I didn’t see or hear anything, I was just in a sort of ”dreamy” state of mind, my thoughts all seemed a little “out of focus”, a bit like I was floating perhaps. I felt myself lifted and placed somewhere. I came to rest on a soft surface of fragments, perhaps packing foam. Tubes were run down my throat and nostrils, and inserted into my anus and urethra. I felt straps being pulled tight over my torso, then more of that . . . packing foam was it? There were other large, heavy things placed near me, and while I couldn’t hear anything I could faintly feel some subtle, machine-like vibrations.

_______________________________

I felt myself lifted from where I lay and then laid down on a hard, cold surface. The tubes were all removed and I lay there a while. I was groggy, but felt that I wanted to get up, and tried to do just that. I was confused, I couldn’t move my arms or legs, hands or feet. I could twist my torso a little, side to side, front to back, but not much movement. I blinked my eyes to clear them, but it stayed dark; the lights must be out I thought. I wanted to work my jaws, they seemed sore, but I couldn’t close my mouth at all, I could feel that my mouth was stretched wide open.  I felt hands on my body, gently washing and rubbing my torso, almost a massage.

As I began to relax, I also began to remember! It came back slowly, so slowly, and I labored to pull what I could from my memory. There were blank spots, but finally I remembered . . . I remembered it ALL. And I screamed and screamed as my mind reeled! Oh God, I remembered . . . I knew what I had been made into. The picture that Maya had shown Leslie and Debra! That was what I looked like now!!!! I couldn’t see, speak or hear; my mouth was held wide open (a special custom-made dental implant, but I never knew that); my beautiful legs and arms were gone; just a torso and head now, no hearing, speech or vision. I wanted to get away from this place, to get away from Maya and her mother . . . but it couldn’t have been more impossible. I had fantasized about the “ultimate bondage”, and now I was living it. The fantasy was better! HOW had this happened to me? Had I shared this fantasy with Debra? I didn’t recall it, but she had gotten the idea from somewhere!

My vagina lips and clitoris had been neatly removed and stitched together, there was only a small white scar-line where it had been, and there was only a tiny hole for urination (Maya had wanted only 2 holes in her new toy, mouth and rectum. The strong, athletic, intelligent woman that was Erica Bennett less than a year ago was GONE . . . I was nothing anymore, only an OBJECT! I had been turned into a sex-toy for a spoiled young girl!

I knew my sanity wouldn’t last long, I HOPED it wouldn’t!

_______________________________

Today it was Maya’s birthday, the day of her party. Of course she knew what her gift was, but she was so excited to show it to all of her friends. She had invited some 20 of her young friends and relatives to her party, and they were all in attendance. Everyone was seated now, and staring at Maya’s birthday gift, and expressing their amazement. It had been hung from a strap tight around its waist, upside-down over the center of the dining table, a bowl placed underneath it to collect the saliva that ran helplessly from its downward-facing mouth. And a large candle had been inserted deep into its rear and lighted. It looked like some strange, exotic light fixture. It seemed to feel something as the candle burned and streams of wax ran down its torso, quivering and twitching as the wax hit its tender flesh.

Maya said to them, “after dinner we can take it down and you can all play with it. I have strap-on dildos for the girls, but I don’t think the boys will need that”, giggling with excitement. As they were finishing dessert the gift was thrashing wildly from the straps suspending it over the dining table and making all sorts of grunts and squeals. It was covered with perspiration. Maya’s cousin grabbed a glass of water and poured it onto the candle, which had now burned down so that it was burning inside the poor creature. She said to Maya, “you should be careful with your birthday gift, it won’t last long if you don’t take care of it”! Maya just laughed and replied, “oh, if I break this one Momma will get me another one”.

Then dinner was over and the maid had cleared the table. Several pairs of hands took the gift down from its hanging position and laid it on the table. Maya said, “I’m the first to try it, but then all of you get a chances, as many chances as you want”. Then she lifted her skirt to reveal a huge strap-on. The gift was lying on the table face down and Maya pulled it over so that its rear was just at the table edge. Then she gripped its hips tight, digging her fingernails in, and plunged into the poor things rear. It squirmed and flopped as best it could, and Maya knew she was hurting it, and smiled . . . she was a cruel, selfish little girl. After a time she flipped it over on its back and grabbed the hair to pull it so the head hung just over the edge of the table. It was gasping, and its mouth was held open wide by the implant that had been put into its jaws. Then Maya plunged her huge strap-on into its mouth and down its throat, pumping in and out. By then Maya was gasping from exertion, and she said breathlessly, “O.K., everybody else now”, and they scrambled for a place in line to use the gift Maya was so generously sharing with them. Soon the gift was on a smaller table in the next room and its front and rear holes were being used at the same time. And the girls would sit on its face and feel its tongue thrust madly into their pussies and asses. It must have thought that pleasing them would ease its torment . . . but it was wrong.

Than Maya brought out some whips and riding crops, and those wer e used. Hours later Maya’s friends had all gone home and she was exhausted from the excitement of the evening. And she was so happy . . . momma had gotten her just what she had asked for! But now time for bed.

_______________________________

But then there was tomorrow . . . and the next day . . . ?!?!

And THEN . . . the rest of my life. My mind reeled. Please, I begged myself, PLEASE go mad soon!