Indentured (5 page)

Something told me they were placed strategically
for easy reach more so than for artistic impression.

A massive flat-screen TV adorned the wall at the opposite end of this room, filling nearly the entire thing. It had to be nearly as big as a movie theater screen.

Several hallways broke off from the room in which I was seated, going where I had no idea. In my present predicament, I couldn’t exactly go off exploring to find out.

Finally, he returned. He’d removed his expensive suit and was now wearing nothing but a loose-fitting pair of gray sweat pants. His chest was bare, revealing all the muscle I’d wondered about earlier.
He was cut like a boxer, every muscle lined and defined. A small spattering of hair covered his chest, tapering into a line that dropped down below the loose, low-hanging waistband of his sweatpants, but not before cutting a path through the center of his six-pack. Or was it an eight-pack?

I swallowed hard.

He stared at me, his expression impassive, for a long minute. “I’m going to prep you now, slave.”

Prep me? I had no idea what that meant, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out. It grated on my last nerve, too, that he’d called me
slave
. In fact, I’d pretty much had all I was prepared to take for one day.

“Fuck you,” I said, surprised to hear that my voice was still husky and scratchy sounding from all the screaming I’d done earlier.

He slapped me across the cheek so fast I didn’t have time to react apart from tears shooting to my eyes. While I was still trying to sort out what was happening, he’d picked up the cock gag and jerked my head back by the hair. When I didn’t immediately open my lips, he released my hair and pinched my nose closed. Eventually I ran out of air and gasped for breath, and he easily slid the gag back into place and fastened it behind my head.

“That,” he said in a deceptively quiet tone as he set to work releasing my arms and legs, “is inappropriate language for a slave. You will not use the word fuck unless I tell you to do so.”

I blinked back the tears that were continuing to fall, trying to wrap my mind around everything that was happening to me.

In record time, he had me released from the chair. Instead of having me crawl, he tossed me over one of his incredibly broad, strong shoulders and carried me off through one of the labyrinth hallways. When he stopped, we were in the biggest bathroom I’d ever seen. Black marble countertops and floors, mirrors everywhere…it was crazy. The counter had four separate sinks, and across from that was a shower enclosed in glass that had to be at least
as large as a king-sized bed. Maybe bigger. Beyond that, a toilet and bidet were set just this side of the most massive tub I’d ever seen.

He set me down
in the middle of the room on shaky feet, still strapped into those stilettos, then lifted my hands up above my head. Silly me, I hadn’t thought to look up. A chain hung down from the ceiling with black leather cuffs, which he expertly attached to my wrists in such a way that I could barely touch my toes to the floor. At various other places throughout the bathroom, crazy looking devices hung down from the ceiling—things much more terrifying than this chain.

Pulling one of my legs up by the knee, he removed the stiletto and released me before repeating the process with the other shoe. He moved behind me then, taking a small key ring from the pocket of his sweat pants and unlocking the metal panties and bra. Finally he untied the dress that had been shoved around my waist, leaving me completely naked other than the collar around my neck and the gag held firmly in place.

He turned to face a panel on the wall next to the shower and punched a few buttons. In the mirror, I could see how his sweatpants hung low on his hips, revealing the top of his ass crack and all the strength corded through the backside of his body. The shower came to life, and he lowered his pants to the floor, proving that his lower half was just as spectacular and chiseled as his upper half.

Unceremoniously and without saying a word, he released my wrists from overhead and carried me into the shower.
Hot jets of water poured over me while he reached overhead, pulling a stainless steel contraption down from the ceiling. A long, vertical post came down behind my back, with horizontal bars attached to it at shoulder height and ankle height. At each end of the horizontal bars, locking stainless steel rings awaited my wrists and ankles, which he wasted no time in securing.

By the time he was done, my arms were held straight out to the sides, and
my legs were spread so far my ankles were about four or five inches further than my shoulders on each side. He started me with an enema and a douche, then he shaved my pussy and scrubbed me down from head to toe, including washing all the remaining bits of my supper from my face.

When I was clean to his satisfaction, he washed himself just as thoroughly. I couldn’t help but watch as he ran a soapy hand over his cock, hard and huge. I marveled at the thought that he’d put the whole thing
down my throat. How had it fit?

As much as I was uncertain about everything that was happening, I knew one thing—the feel of that cock inside my pussy or buried deep in my ass was going to be amazing.
I couldn’t wait for him to fuck me, which surely he was about to do since he’d just cleaned me up.

Instead of fucking me,
he stepped out of the shower and punched a few buttons on the wall panel, and the hot jets stopped pounding down on me. He took a minute and dried himself off, then brought more towels into the shower to dry me while I was still locked to the bars.

He stepped out of the shower again and was gone for several minutes. Was he going to just leave me there?

This time, he wasn’t gone long. A strange container was in his hands when he came back, like something you’d see in a hospital, full of various vials and needles and alcohol wipes, that sort of thing. I stared at it, hard, trying to determine what could possibly be in there and what he intended to do with it all.

“I’m a chemist,” he said. The sound of his voice startled me a bit, because he’d hardly said a word to me
in the hours we’d known one another. He selected a vial, inspecting the label before attaching a needle to it. “I’ve made a fortune in the European and Asian markets on the products I’ve designed for enhanced sexual enjoyment, but the FDA hasn’t approved them for sale in the United States yet. Lucky for you, since I make them, I don’t have to buy them.”

He’d pulled on a pair of latex gloves and moved behind me. My pulse was going wild and I couldn’t calm my breathing. The coldness of an alcohol wipe ran over a small spot on my ass cheek, and I tried to pull away, but there wasn’t much wiggle-room allowed by that post I was strapped to.

The sting of the needle plunging into my flesh came and went pretty quickly.

“That one was just birth control,
plus a vaccination against STDs and other potential sex-induced illnesses, which the government denies exists,” he said softly in my ear. “It’ll keep you from having a period at all. I’ve already received the vaccine.”

Selecting a vial and syringe from the container, he held it up for me
to see. “This impedes the breaking of the skin and the formation of bruises and other physical marks. It will allow the receiver to withstand a great deal more physical punishment than would be possible without it. It also greatly enhances elasticity in those areas meant to stretch. A pussy that can typically expand to eight or nine inches will typically double that before breakage occurs.” Before I knew what was happening, he’d cleaned a spot on my upper arm with the alcohol and stuck me with the syringe.

He tossed the used needle in a sharps container and fumbled in his bucket for another vial and needle. “This one is an ingenious combination,” he said from behind me as he prepared it. “Tightens the orifice
to require extensive stretching for the pleasure of both parties, increases fluid output by two to three times to vastly improve lubrication, and also it increases sensation for the receiver of the injection. As long as you’ve got this, you’ll have no problem being wet enough for a good, hard fuck, any time of the day or night.”

I jumped when the cold wipe rubbed over my anus. I squealed into my gag when the needle pressed into the sensitive area just beside my sphincter.
It stung worse after he removed the needle than it did going in, and a painful pinching, squeezing, tightening sensation spread out like tentacles from the point of the injection. Then there was heat. Crazy heat, like my ass was on fire, leaving me panting.

“
Now we’ll repeat that process for your cunt,” he said.

I shook my head and moaned into my gag, but he didn’t pay me any mind.

He moved in front of me with a fresh vial and needle, then bent to where he could have access to my sex. “The process takes about a day or so to complete. I’m sure you’re already feeling the chemicals at work.” With two fingers, he spread my pussy lips apart. He pressed two gloved fingers deep inside with the wipe, rubbing it very close to my G-spot. The needle followed, delivering a painful stab that pushed tears to my eyes.

The same tentacle-like spread followed, and within seconds everything between my waist and upper thighs felt like a cramping inferno. I couldn’t stop my tears.

“Like the birth control, that will last for three months before we’ll need to repeat the process.” He stood before me, then licked the path of tears along my cheek. “Should give me plenty of time to decide whether or not to increase the dose for a tighter fit.”

He disposed of the needle and vial, then selected another, larger vial from his bucket. “This is a lovely formulation.” He took out a large syringe and filled it with the liquid, but there was easily four times as much left in the vial as there was in the syringe. “This will increase sensitivity by eight to ten times in the area in which it’s injected. The best part, we’ve discovered, is that if it’s injected into a nipple or the clitoris, it causes a n
ear-constant state of arousal. After injection, the nipples and clitoris are always swollen and distended. In the nipple, the sensitivity spreads to encompass the entire breast area. In the clitoris, it spreads to the vulva, the labia…”

I tried to pull away as he moved toward my right breast with an alcohol wipe. Of course, I failed. He rubbed the wipe over my sensitive nub much harder than was necessary. A moment later, he pushed the needle straight through the center of my nipple. I sobbed and screamed, but it did no good. When he’d forced all of the stinging liquid into me, he removed the syringe and blew lightly on my tit. The tiny breeze created by his lungs felt like an arctic blast.

“You should notice some increased sensitivity right away,” he murmured. “But the full effects won’t be in evidence until tomorrow. By then, a feather tickling your tit might be all that is necessary to send you into a screaming orgasm.”

He’d filled another syringe and was now rubbing a wipe over my left nipple. “This one lasts six months…” The tip of the needle bit into the center of my tit. “But the only side effect of dosing more frequently than that is exponentially increasing sensitivity. So you never know what I might decide to do.”

This time, as he withdrew the syringe, he took my nipple between his teeth and bit down lightly, but I screamed into my gag from the pain of it. Both my breasts felt so frozen and full and heavy, and he took a few minutes to use his tongue and teeth on the pair of them.

For a moment, I thought maybe he wasn’t going to inject this stuff into my clit, as he’d hinted. But then he pulled back, selected and filled a new syringe, and dropped to his knees.

My clit was already sensitive and cramping from the other shot he’d given me, so the simple touch of the alcohol wipe was enough to have me recoiling and trying to get away, to close my legs, anything to keep him from touching me there. In no time, though, he pressed the syringe all the way in and delivered the cold burst of liquid. I was shaking, crying, squirming against my bonds. After he disposed of the syringe and vial, he suckled on my tortured clit until my knees buckled beneath me and I was hanging limply from my wrists.

He took out one more vial, and I shook my head, moaning, trying to let him know I couldn’t handle anything else. But instead of coming near me with it, he wiped a swab over the base of his cock. “This one is like those little purple pills, only better. It gives me complete control over my erections. I can
get hard as often as I want, and the erections can last as long as I want them to last. I can come and still keep fucking without any softening or recovery time if I want. No side effects.” He stabbed his cock with the loaded syringe and sucked in a breath while the liquid was delivered.

Then he looked over at me, where I was still hanging like a limp noodle. “Well, there is
one
little side effect. It adds a good inch or two in length, maybe more depending on the man, and probably a half inch or more in girth to every erect penis. I haven’t used it on myself before, so we’ll have to wait and see how much it adds, won’t we?”

For the first time, he winked at me…like it was all a game.