Author's note: After three years of writing experience I decided to put my hand to rewriting this story. This is the result. I hope you enjoy it. And please let me know by voting.
At the edge of my consciousness, the thought that something was wrong flitted through my mind then slipped away. For a moment I thought I couldn't move. That thought also dissipated, and I was unable to perceive its gravity. No idea lasted long enough to make me nervous. I was trapped in a deep, comfortable fog. But as it slowly lifted, my mind meandered, and the questions drifted in and out, without being adequately answered.
Am I asleep?
Have I been drugged?
Why do I feel sore all over?
Where am I?
What was I just thinking about?
I began to perceive my situation. I was lying on my back in total darkness. I had to blink to check whether my eyes were open. Flat cool metal supported my back. I swallowed. My throat was sore and my tongue felt completely numb. In a haze I half-heartedly strained my body. I was able to confirm that I couldn't move. I was locked down tight. My wrists were anchored somewhere high above my head. In a rising panic I realised my legs were open.
Wide
open.
Oh my God, I'm naked!
My calves began to cramp. I tried to ease the pressure by bending my knees. My hamstrings screamed in protest and I locked my knees back out. My thigh muscles quaked and I moaned incomprehensibly. With the pain, my senses sharpened and my anxiety mounted. Adrenaline started pumping through my veins and I could feel my heart thudding in my chest. My breath quickened and my skin came alive. What was going on?
Please! Someone! Tell me what's happening! Why am I here?
The tight cords of my calf muscles quivered for a full minute. My legs could not have been spread wider without causing me injury. My ankles and wrists were cuffed and I could not reach to loosen them. Movement was severely limited, but if I remained still, I could stand the strain. My body trembled, humming like a bizarre instrument.
There was a click, and a shock of bright light appeared from above, making me clench my eyes tightly. Immediately the image of my naked body speared into my mind. Gut-wrenching embarrassment washed over me.
No one
had seen me like this! There had to be some mistake. Maybe someone was there. Maybe someone could stop this madness.
Please! Someone cover me! Someone! Help me!
Nothing happened. No one came. I opened my eyes a little, squinting while they adjusted. For fifteen minutes I laid still, a single globe pointed down at me, tied down and wide open on a metal tabletop. It might have been thirty minutes. I don't know. My concept of time was faulty. I felt like I'd been there for days, but that was crazy.
Raising my head to survey what I could, the harsh overhead light and everything under it became my world. It illuminated my straining body and little else. The black shroud of my existence had been raised about two feet, to the extent of the light. Above and beyond was an inky nothingness. I groaned like an animal and my head fell back to the table.
The light above me swayed with the movement of air. I sensed a presence to my left and turned my head toward it.
Please!
A single hand entered the light like a ghostly floating spider. Encased in an opaque surgical glove, its fingertips touched my left hipbone. With little apparent purpose, the fingers spread and brushed over the skin of my leaping stomach. I tried to scream but I couldn't find my voice. My heart raced and my mouth was so dry. I clamped my eyes shut, utterly violated. I couldn't even cry.
Why can't I speak!
The touch of the fingertips was strangely unhurried. As though it was normal. As though it was intended to
arouse!
Along the flank of my taut body they trailed, barely brushing against the outer swell of my breast before lightly tormenting the sensitive skin under my arm. Tremors of fear and anger ran through me. I cringed and tried to twist my body away from the insistent fingertips. The muscles in my legs trembled and I held still. My mind could make no sense of what my body was feeling. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. I was being touched, and I could do
nothing
about it.
I swallowed again and tried to raise my head to see something, anything. My mind swirled with the effort. I seemed to blink in slow motion and by now I was certain I'd been drugged. As the hand receded into the darkness, the sound of a man's deep, almost whispered voice made my breath catch in fright.
"I'm glad you've decided to join us."
I tried to speak, to
protest
, but all I could do was moan pitifully. I was shocked by the futility of my situation. I was at someone's mercy!
Oh, my God! He said "us"!
I was filled with so much adrenaline that my skin seemed to crawl. Minutes passed before two hands moved back into the light. I jumped at their sudden appearance. Like the first, they too were clad in latex surgical gloves. Subtlety was abandoned as they immediately reached for my breasts. I clenched my teeth as they covered them and squeezed lightly. My body shuddered and I gasped involuntarily. A deep ache radiated through my breasts. The hands released them and withdrew. I lifted my head and looked down. My beautiful breasts were covered in red blotches. My nipples ached. I'd never seen them as long or as hard.
What have they been doing to me?
In seconds the hands reappeared. One gently closed around my left breast, squeezing the nipple upwards. My body jolted as the pain increased. The fingertips of the other hand swirled smoothly over my engorged nipple. A thick, acrid gel was slowly and carefully massaged all over it. I groaned as my other nipple received the same treatment. I blushed in shame as they hardened further. They were so hard they
hurt
. I heard snickering as the hands receded into the darkness, leaving me alone in my silent humiliation.
In moments my nipples were on fire. Breath caught in my chest and I writhed as the unholy heat doubled then tripled. Then quadrupled! Centered on my nipples and spreading rapidly through my breasts, it felt like I was being branded. I was left for minutes, my eyes popping out and sweat breaking out all over my body. At long last the burning sensation began to ease. My muffled moans decreased, and my nipples hotly throbbed in time with the blood pounding in my temples.
Hands entered from the right. Something glinted. In morbid fascination I watched as steel clamps were applied to each of my nipples. Time and again the hands switched from clamp to clamp, accompanied by a small twist that pinched them ever tighter. Finally satisfied, the hands tested the clamps, tugging each one. I groaned again. It was maddening. After the heat treatment, it almost felt good.
The hands disappeared, and more hands appeared on my left. I had the strange thought that this had been done a hundred times. Everything was happening like clockwork as though I was a patient being operated on.
Coiled in one disembodied hand was what looked like rough hemp twine. A simple noose was fashioned and slipped over my right breast. Without a hint of concern, the noose was tightened until it pinched and the long end of twine wound around the base of my breast several times before being knotted. I gazed at my bloated breast, swallowing and watching it darken. It was completely bizarre. Like my breast had turned into a purple cantaloupe. I hardly even noticed the same thing being done to the other one. Hands appeared and disappeared. Some caressed my swollen breasts and some tested the clamps. Another pair attached wires to them.
Wires? Oh, no!
There were at least three or four of them. I shuddered on the cool metal. The table felt like one from a gynecologist's office, or maybe in a hospital.