Elicitation (3 page)

He slipped partway out, allowing her to catch her breath. Tears streamed down her face; she tried to protest, the words muffled and indistinct. He pushed in again, slowly, until she choked once more. He held his cock there, at the back of her throat, as she struggled and wept.

After a long moment, he withdrew partly again. His grip tightened on her chin, and he began to move in steady, rhythmic strokes, each just a little too deep. She gagged and coughed at every stroke. The nurse watched with rapt attention, hands sliding over her body, touching herself openly, flush with arousal. Samantha’s obvious sexual excitement deepened Eileen’s shame. She squeezed her eyes closed and whimpered around the shaft violating her throat.

The doctor grunted once, the only outward sign of his climax. His cock throbbed and pulsed, and suddenly Eileen’s mouth was filled with thick, hot, salty goo. She gagged anew, stomach heaving. He held her head tightly and forced his way deeper into her mouth. His cock twitched at the back of her throat, spurting a torrent warm creamy semen. Her throat worked automatically, and she blanched, sickened by the knowledge of what she had just swallowed.

The cock in her mouth continued to gush. She sputtered and cried as he raped her mouth, filled it completely with his ejaculate. Then, finally, he withdrew, his shaft already softening. She made a wet gurgling noise. White come oozed from the corners of her lips, flowed down her cheeks. She coughed and wept hot tears of shame and disgust.

The doctor pulled up his pants and re-buttoned his lab jacket. He smoothed his clothes down and turned toward the nurse. “I am now ready to construct a preliminary program. If you please?”

She nodded, poised her pen over the clipboard as he pulled up the chair and seated himself. He leaned back and folded his arms. “My preliminary analysis is that this subject is suitable for training as a sex slave, though there are outstanding factors that suggest this will be a challenging case.”

His voice was calmly professional, betraying no sign of the way he had just violated her right there on the exam table. Eileen sniffled and shuddered.
How? How can you do this to me, and be so calm about it?

The nurse wrote quickly as he dictated. “The subject is highly resistant to basic sexual acts and appears to have emotional barriers which might interfere with her new role. These barriers will require nontrivial effort to defeat. A normal course of training will likely be insufficient for this subject. It is my understanding that the subject will soon be taking an extended honeymoon; this period will likely be most critical in developing both the attitudes and the skills necessary for her role as a sexual slave.”

Something in his voice, in the way he said these words so calmly, made her breath constrict.
Her role as a sexual slave…
He was serious, he
meant
it. He was talking about enslaving her, as casually as he might talk about the weather.
The subject
. She was just
the subject,
not even a person, merely an object. An object for sexual use. Her belly tingled.

He glanced over at the naked woman strapped to the examining table. “The subject reached orgasm from unwanted forcible sex. After this orgasm, the subject became significantly more pliable. While my normal recommendations for the training of a new sex slave involve orgasm denial, which can help create a state of arousal that assists in furtherance of the training, in this particular case the subject should be brought to orgasm as a regular part of her training activities, so as to keep the subject more compliant.”

She squirmed and whimpered at the words.
So as to keep the subject more compliant…
He was recommending that her fiancé, the man she loved,
rape
her! Repeatedly!

The tingle grew stronger.

“The subject shows heavy resistance to oral and anal use. In this case, the resistance to anal use is complicated by the development of the subject’s sphincter muscles, which will preclude a conventional regimen of anal training.

“I am recommending an initial two-week course of very heavy sexual training, to be carried out while the subject and her owner are out of the country for their honeymoon. During this period, I recommend a minimum of three training sessions per day. During each session, the subject should be brought to orgasm. Each session should also include forcible oral penetration, preferably with ejaculation in the subject’s mouth, as well as anal probing. The purpose of this part of the training will be to habituate the subject to physical sexual acts.” He paused. “Nurse, include a set of seven anal probes, from size 0 to size 6, in this subject’s training kit. These probes should be used over the period of the subject’s initial training to acclimate her to anal penetration.”

Forcible oral penetration, preferably with ejaculation in the subject’s mouth, as well as anal probing.
The words horrified her, repulsed her, and the tingle became a raging fire. Heat spread through her body, and the muscles of her vagina contracted sharply. She arched her back and screamed as the feelings consumed her, pain and humiliation and objectification wrapped around and entwined within something else.

“Nurse, please make a note that the subject experienced a spontaneous orgasm while listening to the proposed training regimen.” She smiled. Her pen scratched across the clipboard.

He rose from the chair, stripped off his gloves. “I will write you a new birth control prescription. The new prescription will prevent you from having a normal cycle, in order to improve your availability for sexual use.”

Eileen looked at him in horror. “You…what?”

He ignored the question. “I need to prepare for the afternoon’s last patient. Ms. Bowes, I will leave you to take a sample of the subject’s blood, enter the subject’s training program into the computer, and administer the subject’s medication. Also, please schedule another appointment for evaluation and adjustment of the training program upon the subject’s return from her honeymoon in two weeks. Thank you.”

He left; the thick, heavy door closed behind him. The nurse turned and smiled at Eileen. “Well, it’s just you and me now. How’s that?” She moved to the counter. “Let’s get you properly drugged here.” A tearing sound, the cool wetness of an alcohol pad on the inside of her arm, then a sharp, sudden sting. Eileen flinched and turned just in time to see her move away, an empty hypodermic needle in her hand.

“What…what did…”

“Don’t worry. It’s just a mild sedative, with a little something to suppress your memories. In a little while, you won’t be able to remember what happened here. We don’t want to spoil the surprise on your wedding night, right?” She smiled down at Eileen. Her hands brushed Eileen’s face.

“You know,” she said thoughtfully, “right now, I can do anything I want to you.” Her fingertips ran lightly down Eileen’s neck, caressed her shoulder. “Normally, I’m not supposed to interact with the patients in any way that might interfere with their training. But you…” Her fingers traced the curve of Eileen’s breast. “Soon you won’t remember a thing. I could do whatever I liked, and I wouldn’t get in trouble for it.”

Eileen quivered, too spent to cry. “Please,” she said hoarsely. Her vision swam; she felt lightheaded, disconnected. “Please don’t hurt me.”

Samantha laughed. “I’m not going to do anything to you. That can wait for later.” Her fingers stroked Eileen’s skin softly. “I just wanted you to know that I could.”

Her voice seemed to fade as she spoke. A heavy fog rolled in over Eileen’s mind. She struggled to focus on what the nurse was saying; she felt that there was something wrong, something she should be doing, but she couldn’t seem to quite grasp what it was. Everything felt far away, detached, as though it were happening to someone else. The woman became a dim presence, somewhere on the periphery of Eileen’s awareness. Something soft and wet touched her face; what was it? A towel, that’s what it was. The woman was washing her face.

The fog thickened. The woman was still talking, her voice indistinct, unintelligible. She barely noticed the sharp sting when the nurse drew a vial of blood from her arm. Even when the woman unstrapped her from the table and helped her dress, she could not focus. As she stood, the room shifted around her; the nurse put a hand on her back to steady her. “That’s it. Take your time, sweetmeat. You’re going to be woozy for a while.”

She led Eileen out of the examination room and down the hall to the waiting room, helped her sit in a chair. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” She left her patient, moved to the glass partition. “Meredith, can you do me a favor and type up this patient’s training program? Also, set up a return visit in two weeks. I need to go put her kit together.”

The receptionist smiled brightly and opened her appointment book. Samantha disappeared back behind the door. Eileen sat alone, trying to recall where she was. Was there something she should be doing? Someone had told her to wait; that’s what it was. She was waiting for something.

She heard people talking in the distance. Something to do with her? She felt that it was, but she was not sure what, or how.

She felt like she must have dozed for a moment; the next thing she knew, the nurse—what was her name again?—was standing beside her with a compact leather case, a little smaller than a briefcase, but thicker. “Here you go. Take this.” She pushed it into Eileen’s hands; Eileen stared at it blankly. “Give it to your fiancée. And here’s your reminder card for your next appointment.”

Eileen shook her head, but the cobwebs wouldn’t clear. She took the case and the card mechanically. Behind her, she heard the front door open. What was she waiting for?

“Ah, there she is,” a voice called out. A familiar voice… She furrowed her brow; the shadows lifted slightly. Anthony! That’s what it was! She was waiting for Anthony to come and pick her up.

He hugged her briefly, kissed her on the forehead. “So how did it go? Did she give you any trouble?”

The nurse laughed. “No trouble, but you’re going to have a lot of work to do with this one. She’s not going to be an easy subject.” Something about the word “subject” reminded Eileen of something that made her uncomfortable. What was it? She had the feeling she’d heard that word used that way, if she could just clear the fog from her head.

“Her preliminary report is in the case, along with some additional items you’ll find useful. The doctor would like to see her when you get back from your honeymoon for a follow-up evaluation.”

He nodded. “I’ll make sure she gets here.” He turned and offered Eileen his arm. “Shall we go?”

She leaned heavily against him and let him walk her out to the car. Rain fell; the steady patter on the roof of the car soon lulled her to sleep. Her dreams were filled with vague shapes, standing over her, doing uncomfortable things to her, always remaining just out of her reach.

Chapter 2

The next three days were a whirlwind of chaos. Wedding guests poured in from all over, the majority of them friends of Anthony’s. Her entire extended family flew up for the wedding. Her mother immediately took a liking to Anthony, and gushed approval at every opportunity. “He’s so handsome! And what a provider! He will take great care of my little orange blossom.” Even her father, who tended toward cynicism and often distrusted the bulk of humanity, warmed up to him when they discovered a mutual love of hunting dogs and antique cars.

Eileen herself spent the days buried in last minute details. She worried over the fit of her dress, obsessed over the catering, agonized over music for the reception. Anthony indulged her with good humor, reassured her that things would be fine, and generally stayed out of her way.

Occasionally throughout the days, strange shards of images would flash through her head, almost too quickly to identify. Vivid lightning flashes of helplessness and shame accompanied them, always gone before she could capture them.

Several times during the next two nights she awoke gasping from the same dream. In it, she was lying peacefully in her bed, alone, when the mattress beneath her began to ripple and heave. Arms erupted from it, groping and flailing; strong hands seized her roughly, pinning her down. More arms burst out of the mattress and grabbed her ankles tightly. They pulled her legs apart violently, easily overcoming her struggles. Hands sprang forth all around her, as if the bed itself had come alive; they tore at her clothing, ripped it to shreds, left her naked.

The bed writhed beneath her. A huge, blind tentacle, hideous, head dripping wetness, tore through the sheet between her outstretched legs and writhed in the air. She shuddered in helpless horror when it slid up her thigh, seeking her sex, leaving a trail of slippery wetness on her skin. The monstrous thing coiled around her leg and hung there for a moment, quivering, poised to strike.

It sprang with tremendous speed and precision, striking directly at her most intimate place. The hands held her tightly as the great, thick tentacle impaled her, buried itself deep inside her. She opened her mouth to scream at the violation, and another tentacle, just as large as the first, sprang forth from the bed above her. It dove unerringly toward her face, slid deeply into her open mouth, choking her in mid-cry.

The two tentacles thrust in synchronization. She struggled in the grip of the clenching hands; they spread her legs wider, allowing easier access to the tentacle buried in her. The tentacle in her mouth forced itself farther down her throat, preventing her from screaming. Still more flailing hands erupted from the undulating mattress and found her breasts. They groped and squeezed roughly; clawed fingers pinched and pulled her nipples.

The entire bed shook violently. The tentacles rammed into her, fast and hard. She could do nothing save for shudder in dread as those thick, serpentine appendages began to throb and pulse.

Suddenly, simultaneously, both tentacles erupted, spewing great quantities of thick, milky fluid like fire hoses. She shook, helpless, as warm wetness gushed into her, poured down her throat…

…and she jerked awake, with a start, covered in a sheen of sweat, to the sound of Anthony’s quiet breathing beside her.

The third time the dream visited her, on the eve of their wedding, she lay in bed trembling, unable to fall asleep again. Tightness gripped her chest; she felt a quivering in her belly, and a sense of strange, indefinable longing filled. The dream had been so vivid, she could almost feel the hands on her body, taste the warm and slightly salty fluid in her mouth…

She ran her palms flat over her breasts, and discovered with surprise that her nipples were hard. The longing increased. She moved one hand down between her legs, and her fingers found wetness. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and her heartbeat quickened. Carefully, slowly, afraid to wake her fiancé, she parted her legs and slipped her fingers between the folds of her labia. She masturbated quickly, her head still filled with visions of penetrating tentacles, and sighed softly as she came.

Instantly, humiliation and revulsion filled her. She turned away from Anthony, ashamed. When she drifted into a restless sleep, the dream did not return.

The morning of the wedding, a watery sun dawned in a threatening sky. Eileen’s mother fretted about the weather, concerned that rain would ruin the day. Eileen herself remained quiet, reserved. The memory of the night before, her perverse dream and what she’d done afterward, lingered. She feared the dream meant she was some kind of sexual deviant, and worried what might happen if Anthony somehow found out. Had he awakened when she touched herself? Was he, even now, having second thoughts about marrying her, unwilling to be with a woman who would do something so filthy? He had already left, gone to the church early with his friends; her mother bustled about, adjusting her dress and fretting about the weather, and Eileen found herself detached, scarcely even paying attention as her mother turned her this way and that in front of the mirror.

“Did you see that man of yours this morning? He looks so handsome in a tuxedo! No, of course you didn’t. It’s bad luck for a bride and groom to see each other before the wedding. It’s tradition, you know. That’s what’s wrong with these younger people today. No respect for tradition. I do hope it doesn’t rain. Rain would ruin everything. We don’t want to get your dress wet! I hope the limousine shows up on time. I sent your father to call the limo driver. They should be here early. It’s just not right, making a woman wait on her wedding day. Turn this way a little. Eileen? Are you listening to your mother?”

“What?” She blinked and shook herself. “I’m sorry. I was thinking about other things.”

Her mother’s face creased into a smile. “Oh, that’s all right. This is a big day for you! Your father and I are so proud of you. I’m sorry to be carrying on like this.”

Eileen smiled back. “It’s okay, Mom. Everything will be fine.” Somewhere deep inside her, a nagging feeling told her there was something she was forgetting. Something important. Something about the honeymoon, perhaps? She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Her father came in to announce that the limousine had arrived. The nagging voice in the back of her mind disappeared, and she swept up the train of the dress and hurried out the front door.

Her mother’s fears proved unfounded. By the time they arrived at the church, the midmorning sun had burned away the forbidding clouds to stream down in all its glory.

The ceremony went flawlessly. Eileen’s mother sat in the front row and glowed with pride as Eileen walked down the aisle with her father, cried in happiness as she and Anthony exchanged their “I dos.” Afterward, the entire crowd of people, nearly sixty in all, descended on the banquet hall for the reception.

The afternoon was a frenzy of activity. Eileen’s mother fretted over the time. “I know the airline tells you to be at the airport two hours early, but you’re flying overseas. Shouldn’t you get there even earlier than that? Maybe you should leave now. Is four hours too early? Did you remember your passports? I knew it was a bad idea for you to leave straight from the reception. What if you left something at home? You won’t have time to stop and get it. Did you leave anything at home?”

Anthony’s friend and best man Robert, who’d traveled from Chicago for the wedding, offered a long, rambling toast, filled with in-jokes and slightly off-color comments that made Eileen’s mother harrumph and shoot him disapproving looks. He ended more seriously: “As Anthony and Eileen travel forward together as husband and wife, they will face surprises and challenges as they adapt to their new roles. I am certain that they have it within them to adjust to these changes, and will ultimately find happiness in their new lives. To Anthony and Eileen!”

The guests applauded, drank champagne, danced. The photographer took pictures of the two of them, their family, and the guests; the guests took pictures of each other. Eileen’s mother became obsessed with the clock, growing more and more agitated until finally she couldn’t take it any more. “Off! Go! Both of you! Right now! You need to get to the airport! Do you have your passports? Go!” Anthony laughed with good humor, and bade Eileen to change for the flight. He turned the wedding dress and his tuxedo over to the care of her mother. Task done, he took Eileen by the arm and escorted her to the waiting limousine.