Goal

A large spotlight had been aimed directly down upon her, blinding her. Her initial reaction was to turn her head away, but she could not, for three thick wooden panels had been placed around her head, and a fourth stretched out over the panel "above" her to ensure she could not lift her head while ending at the base of her forehead so that she could still look up into the blinding pure-white light. The panels were fortunately all padded, lessening the chance that she might injure herself.

Unable to move her head and still blinded by the spotlight even when her eyes were closed, instinct told her to cover her eyes with a hand or with an arm. Thick straps secured her arms and her legs, with additional straps drawn tautly across torso. There was no doubt that she was trapped, for she could never hope to free herself - she would need at least one other person to release her.

She was completely bare, not even wearing her favorite earrings. She was exposed, unable to cover her breasts and unable to close her legs.

This was so unladylike. She had been raised to always look refined, always behave like a modest young lady. In fact, her first memory was of her mother insisting the only a doctor or a nurse should ever see her naked.

This situation made her think of an operating table. To that extent, perhaps a doctor or a nurse was seeing her naked at that very moment.

But with the thick straps and the padded panels trapping her to some type of heavy table, it was clear that the only people who might be seeing her in this situation would be a mad doctor and an equally-insane assistant.

Underneath the intense, unending glare of the spotlight, she struggled. She knew it was in vain, but she struggled nonetheless, as it gave her something to do, allowed her to fight her predicament - even though it was a fight she could never win in its current form.

She was not wearing a watch - not that she could have lifted her head or her arm to see its face - and she could see nothing outside the immediate white blaze of the hot spotlight directly above her. There was no way for her to know just how long she struggled, how long she fought, how long she grunted and even yelled in the futile effort. But in the end, her efforts had tired her, exhausted her, leaving her limp in her bondage with her exposed breasts heaving and her bare flesh coated with a prominent sheen of sweat.

Footsteps came from well outside the almost nonexistent range of her vision. "Ah-ha! The subject has awakened!" The cackling glee in the deep male voice was unnerving, and the way he had referred to her made her damp skin crawl with fear. The shudder of dread which surged through her was almost certainly visible to anyone looking in her direction.

The footsteps were louder and louder, and there was definitely more than one person approaching her vulnerable form. Still she could not see, the spotlight blinding her greatly and the padded panels preventing her from turning her head toward the approaching persons. There was a bit of an echo, almost too slight for her to hear.

"Let's start the test." The same deep male voice, a voice which carried an undertone of sadism.

"No..." she pleaded softly, barely able to hear her own voice, and silently cursed the panels which would not allow her such a simple act as shaking her head. Despite herself, she began to struggle again, surprising herself with the ferocity of her efforts despite knowing that escape was futile.

The deep male voice chuckled openly. "Valiant! Definitely a worthy subject!"

Without warning, a sharp pain seared across her breasts, the suddenness of the impact stealing her voice even though she screamed from the agony. Her entire body went rigid, her back arched as severely as the many straps would allow, trying to comprehend the How and especially the Why of what had just befallen her. As soon as her body began to ease back onto the sturdy table, the same pain tortured her breasts again, and on this second impact, her voice finally made its shrill presence known.

"Two strikes required before the subject makes any sound. Please note that."

"Noted, Doctor." A female voice, carrying a hint of amusement.

"Note the time as well."

"Yes, Doctor."

More strikes befell her chest, some in rapid succession, some followed by noticeable pauses. She struggled and she wailed, she suffered and she endured. The pain moved from her chest to her thighs - sometimes across both, sometimes across one and wrapping viciously around the meat of her leg.

"The subject is begging now. Note the time."

"Yes, Doctor."

She had not even realized she was begging. She was surprised that she could concentrate on the words of this mad doctor and his assistant. Then again, the words were the only "normal" things about this predicament, and she seized upon those words, her cries softening whenever the doctor or the assistant spoke.

Then came the worst pain she had experienced yet: a strike directly to her clitoris.

Her entire existence was colored in red. Even the white-hot light was tinged with red as the onslaught continued upon her body, focused greatly on her agonizing clitoris. She was close to hyperventilating. She was close to running out of tears. She was close to losing her voice.

And then she was outside herself, sitting in the audience admiring her own performance, hearing the admiring whispers of the spectators: the Mistresses and the Masters and the slaves who had all befriended her when she moved to the city three years earlier. She watched with them as the appropriately-dressed doctor wielded various implements to torture her and the scantily-clad assistant stood aside and fingered herself when she was not writing notes on a clipboard.

Then there was nothing until she was sitting on the very same table, her Master praising her as soft jazz music filled the hall. While her scantily-clad slave sister wiped the sweat away, she held the bottle of water with trembling hands, smiling weakly, for she had performed for the assembly at last, and in so doing she had gone far beyond her previous tolerance of pain, attaining a personal goal at last.