Time no longer had meaning for Sammy. She simply moved from one torture to the next. She slept as much as she could, often to the drone of static pumped through her headphones. The static hurt her head, and made it hard to concentrate on anything, which helped her pass out.
No matter how much she hoped to stay asleep, she didn't control that part of her life anymore. She was usually jolted awake as her suit stimulated her muscles, crashing back as she painfully flexed against her unyielding tomb. It never did it just once, but would let her relax before tensing up again. She could feel her throat tighten as if she were screaming, but with the tubes in her throat, there was no air to pass over her vocal cords.
Having her entire body painfully twitching was unpleasant, but she almost preferred it to being awoken by the vibrator. It would spin up rapidly to pull her out of her sleep, and then the headphones would switch to what Sammy referred to as her "mantra" when she could think.
"I am a slave, and I belong to Doctor Annette Barrows. I want nothing more than to be trained as she sees fit, and want to be punished until I perform correctly. I am her sex toy, her toilet, and her subservient bitch. I will assist in long term training. I will demand six months."
The headphones would repeat this over and over, increasing the speed of the vibrator as her brain waves indicated she was paid attention. If she resisted, the vibrator would slow, and if it stopped, her air supply would be cut off. Sammy had passed out a number of times as she tried to understand the system. When the air returned, the entire process would repeat, with the vibrator jerking her back to life.
Eventually, she worked out that she was being conditioned to associate her mantra with sexual pleasure. She hated that, but had no option but to recite along in her head, and accept as the vibrator brought her to the brink of orgasm. It held her there, as she drilled the words into her own mind. Occasionally, it would push her over the edge, and keep going until Sammy could no longer think straight. However, far more often it would simply stop mid-sentence, switching off the vibrator and the static back on.
Even worse were the routines that she initially thought was a glitch. While the headphones repeated, it stopped and repeated the phrase, "her toilet." As it looped, she felt a warm liquid pushing into her bladder. Just when she thought she would burst, it drained out, only for the filling sensation to repeat in both her bladder and her ass. This repeated over and over, until her bloated body felt trapped between the pressure inside and the restraints outside.
The mantra restarted from the beginning, leaving her full as the vibrator jiggled the liquid filling her. It did little to pleasure her, but did provide a gentle massage to soothe the cramping. When she had started to adjust to the situation, the mantra again stopped to loop on "her toilet". The pressure released, with both her bladder and ass evacuating. Seconds later, she felt the tube in her nose vibrate as the liquid drained into her stomach. She shook as her stomach objected to this filthy meal, but nothing could stop the tube.
The vibrator drove to its highest pulse, forcing Sammy to orgasm repeatedly as the headphones reminded her of her place. "Her toilet, her toilet, her toilet, her toilet..."
--
"...to be trained-" the headphones cut off suddenly. Sammy struggled to remember what this meant, when she felt her body swing slightly. A few seconds later, she felt her body jerk upwards in short sudden bursts. She was swung again, and then her feet dropped, and she was nearly standing upright. She was shaken around, but within a short amount of time, her suit seemed to relax, and she once again had some movement. She tried to flex her knees, only to receive a sudden slap on the top of her head. She stayed still, but felt a comforting warmth slowly climb up her legs.
Outside, Dr. Barrows finished smoothing the solvent over Sammy's body, letting the excess drip into the tub, and turned on the water. "This is another reason I wish they'd let me do longer treatments," she muttered to herself, using a brush to loosen the glue that had trapped Sammy for so long. An hour later, she had freed Sammy from the outer sleepsack, which lied wadded up at the bottom of the tub. Sammy began to wiggle her arms and legs, which she again treated with a corrective slap. She picked up her control tablet, tapped a few buttons, and waited until the gas she had commanded had caused Sammy to sag limp.
She finished undressing and unplugging Sammy, filling the tub multiple times to flush out all of the mess. She then dragged Sammy out of the tub and across the lab, settling her on a short cot covered in a pile of towels. After getting her patient mostly dry, she tucked her in to stay warm.
Dr. Barrows sat down at her desk to finish her preliminary analysis presentation, adding the final health plots indicating that Samantha had been perfectly fine throughout the study. When she heard a rustling, she walked over to see how Sammy was doing. "What kind of butterfly is going to come out of that cocoon?" she asked quietly.
The voice was enough to fully wake Sammy, whose eyes flew open before slamming immediately shut as the dim light of the lab overwhelmed them. Without thinking, she dropped out of the cot onto her knees, bending over to lay her forehead on her overlapping hands.
"I am a slave, and I belong to Doctor Annette Barrows. I want nothing more than to be trained as she sees fit, and want to be punished until I perform correctly. I am her sex toy, her toilet, and her subservient bitch. I will assist in long term training. I will demand six months." The words poured from Sammy's throat in a hoarse rasp.
"My, that is certainly a nice hello," Annette said with a smirk. "Stand up. I want to see how you're doing before taking you to the meeting."
"I am a slave," Sammy started again before feeling a hand on the back of her head.
"Then stand up, Slave. I gave you an order." Sammy let the hand guide her upright, and felt it slide down her left arm as she stood. "That's good. Muscle atrophy was my biggest concern. Are you lucid enough to carry a conversation?"
"Yes. Doctor?" Sammy's mind filled with panic, concerned with not being a 'subservient bitch.' "Should I call you something else?"
"Doctor is perfectly fine for now," Annette responded as she slid a pair of dark sunglasses onto Sammy's face. "First, what is your name?"
"Samantha. Sammy," she replied.
"You obviously know who I am. Do you remember what we've been doing?"
"Something to help people who have behavior issues? It's a treatment for sick people?"
"And it seems to be good at making someone very 'sick' indeed. Not something we need bring up later today, right?"
Sammy couldn't help stop the smile that crept across her face. "Yes, Doctor."
"We'll test the rest later, let's get you dressed. You certainly made an enemy of your landlord, but I was able to retrieve most of your possessions." Sammy followed over to a pile of cardboard boxes, into one of which her dresser and closet had been dumped into. "Pick something warm."
Sammy dug through the box, pulling out a pair of black cable knit tights, two mismatched shoes, a cream sweater, and a turtleneck. Dr. Barrows dropped the shoes she'd worn into the lab a month ago next to the cot. "I think these will give a better impression than those." Sammy dropped the shoes she'd found back into the box before digging a dark green skirt as well.
She presented herself to Dr. Barrows, who tugged a knit hat over Sammy's bald head. "There will probably be questions about that, but don't forget that you were the one to agree to it." Sammy nodded as Annette turned to lead the way out of the lab.
--
"I'm sure you understand that we have a lot of questions for you this afternoon," the elderly man said as Sammy sat down across from the panel. Sammy recognized the panel from before, but there were a row of chairs against the wall behind them that were filled.
"Yeah," Sammy squeaked with a shrug.
"First up, let us extend our apology that you were evicted during your," he paused and Sammy could see him searching for the right word, "during your treatment. Dr. Barrows assures us that your belongings are secure in the lab now, and that she's dealt with any outstanding financial issues related to it."
"'S all fine," Sammy replied, dropping her eyes to the floor.
"My question is what did you do for that month, as the paperwork indicates there was nothing wrong with you in the first place?" one of the men sitting against the wall nearly shouted.
"Mr. Williams," the lady next to the old panel member started.
"Colonel Williams!" Colonel Williams responded angrily.
