Ept Well Lubricated

This place looked nothing like a clinic that she'd been told she was being taken to. The stainless steel walls were making it feel cold and sterile, much more like a morgue than a medical facility, the temperature alone in the waiting room alone being designed so people wouldn't want to stay waiting for long. But Hattie knew she was in no position to show her hesitation towards her Commander's decision. It was not like he'd ever failed her before. He had control over her body and well-being, and he was the one who'd brought her here too, saying she needed it.

Hattie didn't know what to expect. But little by little she was feeling like the dog that was brought here to get neutered, having an ominous feeling in her gut.

As the door flew open a short pudgy woman well in her 60s, dressed in a pink nurse's uniform walked in, a cold blast of air blew into the room, causing Hattie's skin to shiver, getting goosebumps all over her naked upper body. Her nipples had been pert before - now they felt so hard they couldn't get any harder. Her hands were crossed behind her back, her palms holding onto her elbows - self-restrained. She was with Victor on her own free will after all.

Hattie tried to take deep breaths to ignore the cold.

"Name?" the woman, whose name tag said 'Midge' requested, not bothering to be polite, and wiped a gross-looking mayonnaise stain off her lip, clearly having just been on her lunch break.

"Carlile," Victor said as if it was self-evident. He was used to people knowing who he was. "Property of Carlile," he added, tugging the strap attached to Hattie's thick leather collar to straighten the leach, demanding Hattie to keep her neck straight.

Hattie straightened her back in an instant, held in her stomach and pushed out her breasts. Shoulders back, legs straight, eyes down - she knew the drill.

Her lower body held exactly four items of clothing, counting her suede boots as two. The impossibly tight, high-waisted leather skirt made it hard to breathe and sit, but that too was intentional. Underneath that skirt of hers the chastity belt, made of metal and leather, reminded her of its present each time she moved or breathed. Victor had the only key. Its purpose was not to stop her from having sex, its purpose was to stop her overactive mind from constantly playing with herself, and take away her freedom to do so. Hattie could most certainly be fucked, but Victor decided by whom and when. Mostly it was just his business partners and him, and that too rarely.

"I have you right here," the nurse commented, looking up from her notes. "And how long will she be staying?" she asked.

"Five days," Victor replied, the timeframe coming as a surprise to Hattie. She wanted to look up - at him, questioningly, but knew better than to attempt to doubt him.

"I'm going out of town for a few days - and this one, well - needs to be kept... kept well lubricated," Victor explained, leading Hattie to ponder what exactly those words entailed. So far their games had begun and ended at home, or taken place at public places - his business meetings, shopping malls, restaurants - where she'd remained the silent participant with a hidden plug-in driving her to orgasm while he just watched, looking amused.

"That can be arranged," Midge promised, smiling smugly. "And I see we also have a list of names here as visitors?" she added, nodding along approvingly, causing Hattie to feel even more puzzled.

"Visitors?" Hattie wanted to ask but held off.

"Yes, but I suggest you check for ovulation towards the end of the week and instruct them accordingly," Victor continued, causing Hattie to swallow hard. She was not allowed phones or apps to track such things, she wasn't even allowed to know what day it was.

But she did know that getting her pregnant was a goal Victor had had in mind for a while. Even when they'd first met, he'd mentioned wanting kids someday. But the thought was frightening nonetheless. Especially now along with talk of needing treatment, lubrication and visitors. She hadn't been on any birth control for months, but then again Victor rarely finished inside of her - mostly he just got off on the power play.

It was then she realized that Victor had also just a few weeks ago started giving her new vitamins with her breakfast. Had they, in fact, been prenatal vitamins?

"Don't you worry, we'll take good care of her. We're the best in the business," the pudgy woman assured.

Victor handed the woman the end of her leach, causing Hattie to suddenly feel very scared as he began to walk off.

"Oh, and I nearly forgot," Victor said, turning back around for a second. He handed the nurse the key to her belt.

Hattie felt a large lump in her throat, wanting to beg him not to leave her.

"Bye, H," Victor said, lifted her chin with his fingers and kissed her delicate lips softly.

She lifted her gaze to meet his eyes, despite knowing she might live to regret it - wordlessly telling him not to go. But their eyes only met for a second before he decisively stepped out the door, letting it slam closed behind him.

"Come on, slut!" the woman ordered, pulling her leash firmly downwards, there being evident disgust in her tone. "We're going to have to do something about those arms," she added, dragging her onwards to the next room which passed through a really cold hallway, causing Hattie to shiver.

They came to a halt in a hallway that smelled damp, the concrete walls in occasional places actually having moss growing on them - definitely no longer sterile. She could hear the weak patter of the shower somewhere in the distance, but the room she was shoved towards was not meant for washing.

"Here," the nurse instructed, handing her an ovulation stick. The room smelled of stale urine and a poorly dried mop. In the middle of the room there was only a squat toilet hole in the floor, making this feel especially unpleasant.

Hattie knew what was expected of her, even though she knew she'd struggle squatting in the heels that she was wearing. Somehow she managed, however, using her hands minimally, and returned the stick to the nurse.

She regained her former position - her hands across her back, back straight, stomach pulled in.

Hattie wasn't given the privilege of knowing her own results.

The nurse pulled on her collar harder and dragged her down the cool hallway, into a wide windowless concrete-walled large space that only had one exit.

"This is the procedure room," the nurse explained. "You'll spend six hours a day in there, after that you're allowed to rest in the room across the hall. It's warmer over there, there's a cot and a blanket. There'll be food twice a day, showering privileges are given once every three days. But remember - in here you belong to whoever holds your key, is that understood? Everything you'll or don't do will be reported to your Commander," the nurse lectured, pulling on her leash so she could barely hold her neck straight.

Hattie nodded, generally being not allowed to talk.

"Speak, you cunt!" the woman insisted.

"Yes, ma'm," Hattie uttered in a weak tone, her throat feeling sore from how little she'd had to talk in the past weeks.

The nurse unhooked her leash from her collar, tucking it into her pocket.

"Let me fix those arms for you," the nurse said, turned her around and wrapped her forearms together behind her back as they'd been held voluntarily so far with black tape. Now she felt more vulnerable than ever, having never completely been without the ability to use her hands before, with Victor she usually just willed herself not to. God, she missed Victor already.

With a thick lump in her throat she watched the nurse make a call on the intercom, instructing the first visitor to make themselves ready.

"Hmm...," the woman pondered, looking down to her tablet, which seemed to be holding some type of instructions. As Hattie just waited, the woman continued to prep the room, opening up cupboards that held various tools and sex toys and bringing out a... she couldn't believe it - a chevalet. The wooden horse wasn't as high as she'd sometimes seen in old drawings, which Victor had a whole collection of, or movies, but high enough for Hattie to know that this was going to hurt.

"Now, let's get that skirt off!" the nurse instructed, and unzipped the skirt from behind her. Exposing her belt always felt a little embarrassing to Hattie. It was there to stop herself from playing with herself - and admitting that was enough to make her want to sink to the ground.

The nurse wiggled the key a little, and released the rough material from around her waist and core. Just for a brief moment Hattie felt relieved to experience such freedom, having learned to appreciate such brief moments.

The woman walked around her as if sizing her up. "You've got a good ass, got to give you that. But beats me what your master was thinking, leaving you this hairy," she added, frowning a little.

Her legs were smooth as they could be and while she had been given a bikini wax, to trim her sides and ass, the rest was as natural - in part, she believed, it was so to cause her more friction inside her chastity belt.

Hattie kept her eyes front and center, looking at the scary-looking wooden horse in front of her, whilst the nurse fussed around behind her, putting her things away.

"Giddy-up," the nurse laughed, suddenly hitting her ass once with a flogger, jolting her out of her thoughts, since she hadn't been paying attention. God, that stung.

It appeared the horse had been height adjusted already to suit just her, with her boots on, and she could just and just step onto it, the top edge pressing against her crotch. She took a deep breath as she rested her weight onto it.

"Now we take off your boots so you'll stay nice and put," the nurse continued, sounding amused by her audible whimper.

One by one, her boots were unlaced, and stripped from her body, making her feel more naked than she had felt since forever. She could already feel the pressure on her labia and clit increase. Pain and a hint of pleasure. She whimpered again.

"Scream, cry... all you want, it's just music to my ears," the nurse continued, mocking her whimpers.

Hattie tried to compose herself - this was her Commander's wish after all, she needed to accept that. Humiliation was often a part of it - to teach her a lesson, to teach her that he knew what was best for her.

"Ah, one final thing. I almost forgot," the nurse added, and returned from behind here, where she'd earlier opened a closet of toys. A pair of heavy duty nipple suction clamps were attached to her nipples, causing her to breathe even heavier as she felt them. It was a slow, steady kind of pain.

Hattie wanted to pretend none of this was influencing her, but already she could feel her core grow more moist. She felt like a slut already.

Without a word the nurse walked to the door, hung her key that wasn't currently needed to a hook by the door, leaving her there on the horse, her legs a good four-five inches off the floor. The door slammed shut behind her.

Hattie had no idea how long it had been - minutes or hours - she couldn't tell. Her clit was growing more sore, her slit more moist.

It was as she'd finally almost begun to cry, out of hopelessness and desperation, not knowing when she was ever going to get her release. She'd waited so long, and now all she was getting was pain.

Suddenly the metal door swung open, and her mouth must've fallen open.

"Derek?" Hattie mouthed, wondering if she was hallucinating.

"Hi Hattie," Derek glared, there being a look very different from what she'd once been used to seeing on him.

Derek was her high school boyfriend. The lacrosse king, the tall, dark and handsome type who drove a BMW M3 at the time and was the coolest kid in school. He'd been charming as ever, even if not the most thoughtful - mostly having appreciated Hattie for her blowjob skills. He had, in fact, never actually seen her below the belt. But now Hattie was very much exposed in front of him.

Hattie's cheeks flushed, feeling the embarrassment sink in.

"Funny running into you here," Derek teased and walked closer, clearly appreciating the view.

Hattie wanted to ask what he was doing here, but despite not having her mouth gagged, she knew she wasn't really supposed to speak unless allowed. Hence, just in case, in fear or further punishment, she kept her mouth shut, hoping she hadn't made that mistake already.

The embarrassment had one benefit though - her attention had been pulled away for the numb pain in her crotch.

"I do wonder if your tongue is still as soft," Derek continued to talk, as he let his hand brush against her thigh, causing Hattie to inhale sharply, the small change in her balance causing the wooden tip pressing against her to remind her of itself.

Hattie also remembered why she'd broken up with the guy now. She'd caught him in the locker room, banging her best friend at the time. She also remembered watching the two go at it for several minutes before they'd seen her. She'd been on the verge of sliding her hand down her cheerleading skirt too. But at the time she hadn't been as accepting, as in-touch with her inner slut and the second her best friend's eyes had met hers, she'd known that the only thing to do was cause a scene about Derek being a cheater.

The man disgusted her to be honest. And thinking back she couldn't believe she'd ever liked the guy. And here he was, cocky as ever, his broad-shouldered silhouette reminding her of the typical macho.

The man also likely held a bit of a grudge, now that she thought about it, recalling having spread rumors about the guy's dick being on the small side after that break up. The thought made her swallow hard, suddenly becoming very afraid of what was about to happen.

"I bet you'd do anything to get off that horse, right? Put your lips to good use?" Derek asked, walking circles around her.

"Ease that pressure? God, how much do you think your upper body weighs? Certainly more than in high school, surely?" he continued to discuss, definitely being in it to embarrass her further. He suddenly faced her directly and pressed down on her thighs, causing her to winch against the horse, the pressure having just intensified significantly.

He let go of her thighs, leaving Hattie pant from relief, but took off his t-shirt by the neck, exposing a muscular upper body. He continued to pull down the waistband of his sweatpants next, exposing his already aroused cock. It really wasn't that small, a little beyond average perhaps as Hattie could now judge with some experience, years later. But she couldn't help being a little disgusted at the sight of it, and of herself, as currently the idea of getting to feel a dick inside of her in any form didn't seem that bad.

"So? Are you eager to suck this monster until your throat is sore? Anything to get off that thing, right?" Derek continued, stroking his foreskin back and forth in front of her demonstratively.

Hattie desperately wanted to tell him 'no', that she was fine where she was, but honestly she was beginning to doubt that. She knew she had six hours to spend in this room, and by not knowing how long she'd been on that thing already - surely no more than an hour, maybe two, she sure as hell could guess that it was going to grow a lot more torturous if she stayed up there. Even keeping herself upright was tiring. She glanced down at her nipples, seeing them already all reddened, having some shade of purple to them. Maybe she could somehow convince him to take the suction cups off?

"You don't speak much do you? I sure as hell hope they haven't taken your tongue out," Derek continued. "Nod!?" he requested

Hattie nodded, giving in to the growing puffiness of her lower lips.

Derek had muscle power alright, probably even more than Victor, who while lean, had more of a runner's body than that of a gym-buff. And Hattie got a reminder of that as he took her by her thighs and put her on the floor, and directly urged her to get down on her knees. The absence of pressure on her slit felt foreign, the cool air against her puffy, moist labia reminded her of her exposedness.

A familiar grip went into her brown bob-cut hair, and pulled her nose and mouth into his crotch forcing her to take a deep whiff of his musky scent. He still smelled the same as in high school, after practice, and the thought just made her want to gasp at the embarrassing memory.

With his next move he gave her some distance and on instinct her open mouth enveloped that thick and hot head of cock. She remembered what this had felt like - blowing him - and she liked to think she also knew what he liked and how she could possibly get him off sooner. But this time she only had the use of her mouth, her hands being taped together behind her back.

But she really didn't need to do much, as it was mostly Derek using her mouth, thrusting his cock way back in her throat. Fast too. She tried what she could - to move her tongue around his tip like he'd once enjoyed, but his trusts were more forceful than her tongue so soon she just settled into using her tongue to create a welcoming path for him, giving up control to him.

On several occasions he caused her to gag, mostly just keeping going without giving her a moment to compose herself. It was towards the end, as she was already beginning to taste his cum, that he pushed himself all the way into her throat and held her still, until her eyes, so far avoidant of eye contact, looked up at him and begged.

She coughed for air as he finally pulled her off of him, feeling her cheeks covered in tears. Derek just laughed at her.

The next moment he thrust back into her mouth and ejected several hot spurts of cum down her throat, forcing her to swallow every drop. He kept his cock in her mouth until it grew flaccid, demonstrating his power over her.

Derek shoved her against the cold floor, onto which she collapsed, her entire body feeling tired of the constant composure throughout the day. She panted, worriedly not daring to make eye contact with him, worried he may want something more. At least back in high school the guy had had the sex drive of a deprived nymphomaniac, a recovery time not much beyond five minutes. She remembered well that one time when he'd been upset for some reason and had fucked her mouth for an whole hour straight so her voice had been all hoarse the next day at school.

"You know... I always wondered what fucking your cunt would be like. But you were always such a prude. Unlike Lana... and Kelly, and god... what was her name - Jessie, Jessica... something? And of course there was Mary," Derek listed, many of the names ringing a bell to Hattie. Had he fucked them all whilst they'd been together? Thinking back, she wouldn't have been at all surprised, and the realization made the man even more gross to her. But she believed that that was the point.

Many of the people she encountered these days considered her as stupid or simple-minded to be with someone like Victor, but that, however, was not the case at all. She was an Ivy-league educated woman in her mid-twenties, who'd only recently opted to give up on her research career, her overactive imagination and constant state of arousal, feeling like she needed taming. Victor was good for her.

She was jolted out of her thoughts by Derek's fingers that were caressing her upper thighs, having laid there with her legs bent, hips sideways, her collarbone resting against the floor, her tied forearms not giving her a lot of options. Her nipples were beginning to grow numb from the pain they were in.

And there it was - Derek's digits were now slipping between her folds. She breathed more heavily now, in anticipation of him. Did he want to hurt her or just fuck her? Or would those two be just the same thing? God, what if she was ovulating already?