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2006-03-14
Shana had to be helped to the infirmary by the Usher. She walked slowly and stiffly, her bare feet padding on the concrete, one arm draped around his shoulder while he assisted her patiently along the corridor. She sobbed quietly most of the way, her free hand alternating between holding her lower abdomen and reaching around to tug her tunic down over her bare cheeks. The insides of her thighs were still slippery. "I want to quit," she sobbed. "You'll let me go, if I want to quit, right? Just please let me quit, please let me go, I promise I won't tell anybody. " The Usher said nothing, and they turned a corner and reached the infirmary. The infirmary was nothing more than a small concrete room with a desk, chair, cabinet and medical table. The medical table looked like an old examining table, with a cracked cushion top, out of which leaked foam stuffing. A pair of stirrups hung off one end as an afterthought. At the desk sat an old, bespectacled man, with a salt-and-pepper beard, who looked up and swivelled his chair to greet the arrivals with mild surprise. The Usher helped Shana up onto the table and then turned to go. "I'll return for you later," he said over his shoulder, and left the room. The old man stared at Shana for a moment, taking in her dishevelled form: her tousled hair, her tear-streaked face, her short sweat-dampened tunic, her shaking hands pulling the hem down over her legs and guarding her thighs, in apparent discomfort. "Well, hello there," he said, curiously. Shana sniffled, wiped her nose.
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"You must be the new slave girl. I don't get too many visitors here. " Shana said nothing and looked at the floor. The old man got up and offered a hand. "I'm the Clinician," he said. Shana continued to look at the floor, and did not take his outstretched hand. He paused, then frowned. "Slave girl, I thought you servant types had some sort of deference to authority around here. "The touch of hardness in his voice cut through Shana's traumatized mind. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, and to the Clinician's astonishment, she slid awkwardly off the medical table and slowly knelt on the floor, grimacing in pain as she did so. Puzzled, the Clinician stooped and gestured for her to stand, taking her hand. "No, no, that's fine," he said. "Sit back up on the table. " He helped her up, taking in her short tunic and her bare feet as she got up. He thought he saw a flash of brown hair, and his eyes widened.
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"So, what's your name?" he asked. "And where are your shoes?""Shana," she said. "Slave Shana. ""Slave Shana," he said, pondering each word. "Well, Slave Shana, what brings you here? You seem to be in some discomfort. "Shana did not reply, nor could she meet his gaze. The Clinician cocked his head to one side and waited. "Alright then, are you in fact, in any discomfort?"Shana nodded slowly. "Can you tell me where?"Shana waited for a while before she slowly gestured to between her thighs. "Here," she whispered, so quietly he could barely hear her. The Clinician looked at her for a while, and scratched under his chin. "Did you hurt yourself?" he asked. Shana shook her head. She was beginning to shake again. A flicker of insight jumped through his eyes, and he asked: "Oh my! Was the Understudy testing his new machine on you by any chance?"Shana covered her face, suppressed a sob.
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The Clinician clucked and put a hand on her shoulder. "Poor child. It looks like you've just been stretched! Am I right?"Shana gulped back her sob, and ran a trembling hand through her messy hair. "Why?" she asked in a high, shaky voice. "Oh, it's a project the Understudy's been working on for some time. You were just being stretched, that's all. It's not a pleasant experience, so I think the Understudy reserves the treatment for disciplinary purposes. If that was your first stretching, I should probably check you for any tearing inside. " He reached around and swung the stirrups out. Shana shrank back. "No! No, don't touch me!" she cried. The Clinician chuckled. "It's alright. Relax. I'm not going to hurt you.
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You're not in any trouble here. Don't you want to make sure you're going to be okay? Hmm?" he looked at her over his glasses. Shana shook her head furiously. "No! I want to go home! I want to quit!"The Clinician frowned. "Now see here, slave," he said sternly, "The Usher brought you here for your own good. It's our responsibility to ensure you're healthy. If you don't lie back on the table and put your feet in those stirrups, I'm going to call the Usher and we'll hold you down. Am I clear?"Shana's eyes welled up again, and she shook like a leaf as she laid back on the table and let her feet be guided into the cold, metal stirrups by the Clinician.
She gulped back her breaths, utterly ashamed and humiliated at having her swollen, violated sex obscenely revealed between her splayed legs. "That's a girl," said the Clinician and pulled up his chair at the foot of the examining table. He produced a flashlight and shone it on her exposed pussy. "Mmm, mmm, yes, yes," he said quietly, concentrating, while Shana stared at the ceiling. "You're a quite a bit distended from the stretching. Perfectly expected, of course, and you'll return to your normal shape and size within a day or two. " He looked at her again over his glasses, and added, "That is, of course, unless you are stretched several times again, in which case your vaginal canal will become quite wide.
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I can only guess a why the Understudy would want that. " Shana said nothing. "Were you a virgin?" he asked. Shana nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that. " He patted her bare legs sympathetically. "There are better ways to lose your virginity then to be stretched by that machine. "The Clinician scooted forward and slid his hand up between her thighs. "Excuse me for the lack of gloves," he said apologetically, "we don't have any here. " Then he pushed two fingers inside Shana. She arched her back and hollered. "Oww! It hurts!""Hang in there," he said, probing with his fingers. "Unh!""Hang in there. ""Unh! . .
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. Unh!"He felt around some more. "Almost done, girl. ""Unh!" She squeezed her eyes shut, and clenched her hands. The Clinician shifted his fingers. Shana bucked her hips and threw her head back, mouth open. "Aa! Aa!"After what seemed an interminable moment, he withdrew his fingers and Shana relaxed her arched back, gasping for air. The Clinician wiped his hands on a towel and then went to the sink. "You can take your feet out of the stirrups, now," he said over his shoulder, "I'm done the exam. You've bled quite a bit up there, and I can feel some swelling. "Shana stared at the ceiling, breathing deeply. The Clinician returned with some pills and a cup of water. "I think some pain killers will help you sleep tonight. Keep you from feeling too sore, and should cool the swelling. " Shana took the pills and swallowed them with a cup of water proffered by the Clinician.
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A movement caught her attention, and she turned to see the Usher, waiting for her. He was watching her from the entrance to the room, and had likely witnessed the internal exam. The Clinician smiled broadly at the Usher. "She looks okay. Give her some rest, don't put her through the tough stuff until she's regained her full range of pelvic movement. If the soreness gets worse, come back and see me. "The Usher helped her down the hall. "We'll stop at the shower room, first, slave," he said. "You need to clean yourself up. " Shana could only acquiesce, and ran the water extra hot for as long as she dared. She made sure to let it cascade down her thighs, between her legs, and wash away her shame. After a minute of standing in the warm, soothing spray, she sank to her knees and collapsed in a ball, letting the water run over her. When she could muster the strength to stand up again and turn off the shower, she staggered out and dried herself off. Predictably, her soiled tunic was gone. Someone had left her the silk robe from her chambers, which felt surprisingly comfortable for its paucity of modesty, and she wore it back to her room, giving the Usher his customary eyeful as she climbed the ladder.
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* * *Shana slept fitfully that night, and had a terrible nightmare:She dreamt that the Understudy was twenty feet tall, a giant, and held Shana's body in his big, powerful hands. His face remained expressionless as she squirmed in his iron grip. She was wearing her tunic with no underwear and her heeled sandals. She squirmed, kicked her feet, and flexed her toes. He wrapped one big hand around her upper chest, and the other around her thighs. He tightened his grip, until she could no longer squirm, and then he began to bend her slowly backwards, curving her spine toward its limit of motion, folding her body in half. One of her heeled sandals fell off. "No! No!" Shana screamed, over and over, but the Understudy continued to bend her, until her cries melted into one long scream. He bent her slowly, deliberately, only an inch every few moments. Shana could hear her joints cracking with each inch. As her body formed a U-shaped bow, the fabric of her tunic, pinned in two places by the Usher's giant hands, began to tear along her midsection, with a loud ripping sound, baring her stomach and navel. The Understudy slid one hand up from around her upper chest to the spot where her jaw met her throat. He pushed against her neck and forced her head all the way back, as far as it could go, until her nose was pointed towards her ass, up over which her tunic had begun to slide. Her arms now free, Shana instinctively began pushing back with her hands against the powerful, meaty hand on her neck. Shana found she could no longer scream, but her mouth remained open, jerking and silent, while the Understudy continued to stare down at her, emotionless.
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Shana's body was now folded backwards so much that her face was almost touching her bared rear. Gradually, inch by inch, the Understudy continued to push. Her tunic stretched and ripped more, hanging off her folding torso.
It was now deathly quiet. She gurgled once, loudly. "Agh!"Shana's open mouth continued to jerk, as she tried to make another sound. Her eyes bulged wide. As her mouth widened and relaxed, her lips began to brush against the bare cheeks of her tush, along with just the tip of her nose, as the Understudy forced her head back further. Her lips brushed lightly at first, caressing her soft, smooth skin where the back of her thighs met her cheeks. Gradually, as he forced her head another inch back, this gave way to her open mouth rubbing against her cheeks. Her moist lips started to leave a wet, warm dew on her bare rear. The Understudy paused, and held her folded body perfectly still for a moment. She gurgled twice. "Hochh!"Her mouth stretched open wide with the sound, making her ruby lips rub more on her bare tush, which made the spot, where her lips touched her bum, slippery and wet. It was utterly silent as the Usher continued to hold her perfectly still.
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The ensuing silence was punctuated by her other heeled sandal, which fell off her arched, trembling, bare foot and clattered on the floor. Both her feet were now bare, her toes pointed, her calf muscles taut. Her arched feet made little frantic kicks back and forth, dabbling the air, as the Understudy held her still. Then he pushed her firmly in half. Her final croaking sound was muffled, as her open mouth, and ski-jump nose, pressed firmly into the soft crease of her bare bum with the force of his hand. "Mph-"There was a snapping sound, like dry sticks, as Shana's spine broke. The sound echoed in her ears as she sat bolt upright in her bed, panting, and looking around. It had just been a dream. She curled up on her bed, still feeling sore between her legs, and cried into her pillow. After her sobs had ebbed, she slowly sat up and listened with her head cocked. She could hear nothing but the quiet hiss of air in the ducts outside. She slipped out of bed and looked around her room. She was still wearing the short, silk robe, and her tunic was still gone. She found her black, heeled sandals. They would be too noisy on the concrete, so she would have to carry them until she made it outside.
Her short robe would have to do. If she made it past the gates, well, she would deal with the issue of her modesty then. She peered cautiously out of the entrance to her cubby hole into the dim corridor. Seeing nothing, she moved swiftly out the curtain and down the ladder, carrying her sandals in hand, and quietly stole down the gangway to the bigger corridor beyond. It didn't take her long to find her way back to the entrance of the complex. At every intersection, she shrank up against the wall and listened for a moment, before peering around the corner. There were no sounds and no souls. She rounded the corner to the main entrance, and stopped. A large portcullis sealed the gated entrance. Through its grill, she could see the barren moonlit landscape of the mountain beyond. She hadn't remembered there being a portcullis - only gates. She stared numbly at the moonlight. It was the first natural light of any sort she had seen since arriving. "We lower it at night for security," said a voice behind her. Shana squeaked in terror, and whirled around, dropping her sandals with a clatter.
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It was the Usher. He strode forward towards her, and picked up the sandals. Shana began to shake in terror. "I - I was just going for a walk," she said, her voice undulating as she shook. "Of course you were," replied the Usher. "At three o'clock in the morning. And you're lucky it's me who found you. If it were the Understudy, he'd have you stretched again for this. "Shana stared at the floor, looking down at her bare feet. She swallowed, and then said softly, "I - I was hired by him for this job. I want to quit my job. I want to go home. " She looked up hopefully at the Usher. The Usher shook his head slowly, silently. "I think you'd better return to your chambers," he said, and gestured back down the corridor.
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He escorted her silently back to her room. They paused at the ladder, and he said, "It's best you not get caught doing this again. I'll likely not be able to overlook it a second time. Breakfast will be delivered in three hours, and then we'll see about your clothing for the day. ""May I please have some panties?" she asked, looking at the ground. The Usher said nothing, turned and walked back down the gangway. Shana crept back up the ladder and curled up on her bed. She eyed the pills give to her by the Clinician. They were almost gone. She took two more, and dozed off. .
