For M. She knows why. Thanks also to violent intimacy for her editing skills.
*
Day One
A voice from a shadowy corner of the room said, "Don't turn on the lights. You know why we are here. Sit down on the sofa and listen carefully as we tell you what we expect of you for the next forty-eight hours."
I sank slowly onto the sofa and let the darkness settle around me, concealing the tremors in my hands, the blush in my cheeks, and though not visible, the strange ache just now forming in that secret moist place between my thighs.
"We are members of the selection committee," spoke the voice from the shadows, cultured, silky, and deep with a hint of a British accent. The caress of the voice seemed to make the words more menacing. "There are rules you must follow during the testing process. You must answer truthfully and completely any question asked of you. You must obey silently and without hesitation any orders or commands. When the testing session is complete, you will await further notice from the selection committee as to the outcome of our decision and you will not speak of these events to anyone. Do you agree to comply with our regulations? If you say yes, it will be the last work you will voluntarily speak for the next 48 hours. If your answer is no, we will leave, your application to the society will be destroyed and you will not be given another chance to serve."
I could only nod my head, my anxiety was so great.
"A verbal response is required. Do you agree to comply with our regulations?" he repeated.
"Yes," I spoke, my voice barely more than a sigh.
"Remove all articles of clothing and any jewelry and put on this garment. You will now be transported to our testing facility."
I stripped off all my clothes there in my den and donned the garment he had handed me. It was similar to a hospital gown in that there was no way to fasten the sides together. The fabric was soft and caressed my nipples as we stepped out into the cool evening air. My hardened peaks rubbed continually against the fabric as cool, night air swirled around my now exposed and moist nether lips.
The voice led the way and the other person propelled me gently forward with a hand on the small of my back. My feet were bare and I picked my way gingerly to a waiting sedan. The rear door of the vehicle was opened for me and I found myself maneuvered efficiently and without ceremony into the back seat.
We made our way silently out of my apartment complex parking lot and I could see by the glow from the street lights that my captors were just ordinary looking people, one male and one female. The man was tall, slender to the point of being lanky, with glasses and a receding hairline of light brown hair. The females had dark hair pulled back into a bun and the clean face and timeless features that make it hard to guess someone's age.
"There is food and water in a bag on the seat beside you. Eat," she commanded. At least she sounded young. There was indeed a bag containing a cinnamon bagel, a slice of cheddar cheese, a pear, and a bottle of water on the adjacent seat.
I ate most of it, glad that there wasn't anything messy to deal with because my hands were so shaky. They continued to drive as I ate silently.
Approximately 40 minutes later, we turned off the highway and followed a long, winding drive to a modest brick home. I had not known that the testing facility was so close to home. "Was this the only one? Do they have others around the nation or the world?" I wondered. The society to which I had applied was of world renown, though only a few are accepted into service each year. We parked inside the garage and a door was opened for me. I exited the car and followed them to the door. I was led inside a brightly lit room; indeed all the house seemed well lit. I had not noticed this from the outside. There must have been shades on all the windows. I didn't know whether to stand or sit in one of the chairs found in the room.
Fortunately, before I had to decide, the female said to me, "Come this way. It's time to begin exploring your boundaries."
I was taken to a small bathroom. There was no door. "Pee," she said. I sat down on the toilet and wondered whether or not I would be able to obey.
How could I possibly go to the bathroom with her watching? I even closed the door when I was home alone. Surely, embarrassment would not let me follow orders. Perhaps nervousness would be my ally. Only a second later I was rewarded with the release of my bladder and a silvery sound as my stream flowed hesitantly into the bowl.
This, she noted on a clipboard she held in her hands. Then she handed me two moist cloth squares, baby wipes. "Make sure your pussy and asshole are scrupulously clean." I followed her directions and she noted that on her clipboard as well.
She led me into another room, where the man was waiting. Also in the room was an exam table with stirrups. Any female who has ever visited her gynecologist is familiar with the setup. There were also tables stacked with various items, some whose use were known to me, some unfamiliar. Beeping monitors of all kinds lined one wall and numerous stainless steel items sparkled, their gleam contributing to my apprehension.
"Remove your gown and lie on the exam table," he spoke. As I did so, he kept talking, "There are no safewords here. We are in complete control of your body. We will control your food and liquid intake and output, we will control the temperature of your body, and we will control your sleeping and waking cycles. You will experience extremes of pain, pleasure, humiliation and emotions. You must cry silently, as any noise will be punished. You will be forced to climax many times, more than you thought possible. Through all of this you must not speak. You will readily and eagerly accept and welcome more pain than you have ever felt. Know only this—your body will not be altered in any permanent way. Only if you are accepted into the society will your master have the right to harm or alter your body."
My traitorous libido betrayed my apprehension. His words caused a torrent of desire to eke its way to the surface of my psyche. I needed to do this; I had to do this. I was born for this.
As I was lying on my back with my feet in the stirrups she said, "Place your hands behind your head so we can see you better. Keep your eyes open at all times, except when you are allowed to sleep. You must see us at all times and know that we are in control. You are not allowed the anonymity of closed eyes. In fact, you will look at me at all times when I am present. You will do all this without physical restraints. You must restrain yourself mentally, because at times you will be ordered to use your hands to offer your body to us."
As she spoke these words, she moved to a position between my spread thighs. I knew my sex was wet and I could smell my own aroma. I wondered if she could as well.
"Use both hands and open your pussy for me," she said. I reached down to my throbbing cunt, parted the soft, silky curls that rested there and spread myself open to her gaze. As I lay there expectantly, he peered over her shoulders at my exposed sex. I heard the snap of surgical gloves being donned and I could feel my inside walls swell and drip.
It was then that I first felt the touch of another woman on my most private parts. She was using her fingers to examine my clitoris. She pushed the swollen nub first one way and then another, used her thumb and forefinger to roll it around and tugged on it gently. I could feel an orgasm approaching. "Her clitoris is enlarged already. She's certainly responsive." I could feel something being inserted into my gasping cunt. "Her internal moisture is adequate for testing," she stated.
Apparently, she had placed her fingers in my pussy, because I felt them being withdrawn and replaced with two small round metal discs. I was so close to orgasm, but wasn't sure it would be allowed. I didn't want to do anything to risk the wrath of my captors. "What have I done?" I thought to myself. I didn't know these people. No one knew where I was. I was completely and totally at their mercy and I liked it. No, I loved it. I loved the power they held over me. I loved the possibilities that waited.
"She's at the edge," I heard. Then, the click of a switch sounded against my gasping cunt and surges of electricity radiated up through my body, beginning with my pussy.
The next statements were addressed to the male, "The two round discs are electrodes. They are attached to a rheostat to control the voltage, and they also contain elements that let us measure the current. The more natural lubrication, the more current there is. She could be drowning in pussy juice, but still wouldn't be electrocuted. The shock sure does take the edge off for them, though."
When my cunt stopped its angry spasms and my gasps for breath had slowed, I felt what seemed to be a reassuring touch on my mound. The electrodes were removed and deft hands were once again stroking my clit. She was stroking me while he was making notes on the ever-present clipboard. "Do you think we ought to let her come now?" he asked.
"Yes, yes," I silently begged, but my wishes were not to come to fruition.
"You should know the protocol by now!" she snapped. With that one statement, every notion about who was in charge evaporated. She was clearly in charge and he was merely an assistant. One thing was certain, though; I had no control whatsoever!
