Blood Slave Read online

  I felt my heart pounding in my chest. My nostrils were wide as I sucked in air rapidly. I was still struggling with waves of nausea, and spit now ran freely down my throat. I thought I was going to choke.

  The whining noise started again. Dr Vahal was bending over the girl. She started kicking her legs frantically. Nurse Hiatt grabbed them and held them down against the chair. The girl was still twisting her head, trying to stop Dr Vahal working. He shouted something to Nurse Hiatt. There was silence. The girl stopped fighting. She sat up. It must all be over. I thought I would see her at the door in a moment, relieved that her suffering had not been too great.

  A terrible surge of nausea filled my throat. I tasted vomit mixing with the spit on my tongue. Sweat broke out on my face. I could feel it running down my cheeks. I was terrified. I turned to Caroline - hoping that the sight of her would provide some sense of safety. She had gone! Completely disappeared!

  I looked around stupidly, as though there was somewhere for her to hide in the small square room. A sudden shriek came from the surgery. Through the dirty glazed window in the door I saw Nurse Hiatt forcing the girl’s head back against the couch. The image was distorted but I could see that she was tying her down somehow. The girl kicked her legs but she could not escape. After a few seconds her head became still though her legs still kicked weakly. When Nurse Hiatt leant back on the girl’s legs they stopped moving and she slumped back in the chair.

  The whining noise started again. I realised what it was. He was drilling into her teeth.

  I don’t know how long it was but eventually the door opened and the girl walked out. She stumbled, made her way falteringly to a wooden pew and flopped down with a groan. Her eyes were black with mascara that had run in her copious tears. Her jaw hung open from the strain of the operation - of having her mouth forced wide with a dental spreader. She turned slowly towards me and exposed her teeth. They were crystal white, shining and bright. Her canine teeth were large and pointed and blood dripped from their ends. She pushed her hands between the tops of her thighs, opened them slightly and inserted the forefinger of each hand into the crack of her cunt. She prised the soft edges apart and let her fingers run in. I saw the moisture that flowed from the centre of her crack glistening as it smeared across her knuckles. She dropped her head back against the wall and drove her fingers in completely. She let her jaw drop and a bead of blood fell from the sharp tips of each of her canine teeth. She lifted her hips off the pew, found her clitoris, pinched it hard then, in a sudden frenzy, drove one of her fingers into her anus. She bellowed loudly as, overcome by pleasure, her whole body went rigid with the convulsion of a massive and uncontrollable orgasm.

  She remained with her shoulders pressed back against the wall, the only movement her squirming feet. Another drip of blood fell from her teeth. She gasped loudly and dropped back - slumping sideways on the pew, spit bubbling from her lips, and still twitching from her stiffening convulsion.

  I tried to cough as spit filled my throat. My lips were dry and stretched, my eyes were wide, and my body was shaking with fear.

  The door opened again.

  ‘Next,’ said Nurse Hiatt coldly. No one moved. ‘Yes, you! Number 24!’

  I looked at the other two girls. They just sat staring at the wall opposite them. It was as though they were in a trance.

  ‘Yes, you!’ shouted Nurse Hiatt. ‘You’re next!’

  I stood up and walked unsteadily towards her. She held the door open and bowed mockingly. I entered.

  The chair was black leatherette, the main body of it bent at the angle of a reclining body, the headrest surrounded by two wide wings, the armrests on hinges so that they could be flipped up out of the way if necessary. Beyond it there was a stainless steel workstation with an array of equipment, a cabinet with glass doors and a shiny metal trolley covered in stainless steel implements. By the side of the chair was a small sink and tap.

  Dr Vahal motioned towards the chair. He was not too tall and had a black goatee beard.

  ‘Here. Here,’ he insisted.

  I sat on the leatherette covered chair. It was shiny and soft against my skin. Nurse Hiatt pushed me back. I tried to swallow as I leant my head back but it was still impossible. As she bent over me I could see the frilly top edges of her bra beneath the unbuttoned top of her white tunic. Her cleavage was well defined and deep. She did not open her red lined lips as she grinned. She lined me up on the chair and her long red fingernails dug into my arms and shoulders as she pushed me this way and that.

  Dr Vahal leant over me and peered at my plugged mouth. He ran his fingers around my distended lips.

  ‘Another tight one, nurse. Sometimes, I just don’t know how they go in. Hand me the forceps. This is going to be difficult.’

  She passed him a pair of shiny metal forceps. He tested them by opening and closing them, and then brought the narrow, slightly curved ends next to my wide stretched mouth.

  I pulled back - snatching breath noisily through my flared nostrils. He tried again and I had the same response. I was so terrified of what he was going to do, I couldn’t stop myself.

  ‘Nurse, secure her head. I can see we are going to have trouble with this one right from the start.’

  I was filled with a sudden and irrepressible fear. It was like being blinded by a bright light. The images of the blonde girl flashed into my mind, corrupted and contorted behind the glass of the door - menacing, fractured, terrifying. I sat up and tried to get away. I don’t know what I was thinking. Somehow, I knew it was a stupid thing, but it was what my body wanted to do and I could not control it. It was as though I no longer had a rational mind.

  Before I swung my legs sideways, Nurse Hiatt grabbed me by the throat. I choked. She tightened her grip. She inclined her head to one side and opened her grinning mouth. The two long fangs of her canine teeth squeezed out prominently from behind her top lip. She moved her mouth near to my neck. Now I was frozen with fear; my outburst of action had been halted as surely as if I had been felled by an axe.

  Suddenly her face was yanked back. She was grimacing, struggling against the physical control of another A hand held her hair in a clump on top of her head. She fought against it, eager to get to my neck, but the hand was too strong. It pulled her away and dropped her, as if she was a doll. I could see that she knew she had lost control of her own will. I could see that she knew she was again at heel. Her eyes flashed from side to side - she was angered but suppliant. Again she went keenly to the task she knew she had been allotted. She pushed me back onto the dentist’s chair. The black leatherette covering was cold against my back. I squeezed up my buttocks and my skin stuck to the shiny surface. Some control returned to me and I tried to push her away. My resistance angered her and she forced me down even more strongly

  Nurse Hiatt knelt on the side of the shiny leatherette covered chair. She lifted the armrest out of the way and leant forward. She pulled up a length of red rubber tubing, already attached to a chromium cleat on the one side of the headrest, pulled it tightly across my forehead, led it to the other side and wound it once around another chromium cleat. She yanked it up hard before securing it around the peg of the second cleat.

  I felt as if my head was going to explode - it was pounding from the pressure of the rubber tubing, the terror of constriction, and the fear of what was going to happen next.

  ‘Good! At last I can work!’

  I could hardly hear his words - my ears were drumming, hissing, filled with the throbbing beats of my racing heart. Everything was blurred around me. I thought I was going to pass out.

  He levered the ends of the forceps into the corner of my mouth, forcing it to open a chink between the ball and the wide stretched edges. I could feel the ball behind my teeth. It was wedged so tight. I thought I would choke. I couldn’t breathe. Everything started to spin. I felt him forcing the forceps into the crack he
had opened up. I felt the coldness of their ends against the edge of my tongue. It made me heave. I went hot at the idea of vomiting - if I did I knew I would choke!

  I felt the ends of the forceps reaching over the surface of my tongue, and then I felt their pressure as he pressed them down. I could feel he was trying to free the ball - wriggling the forceps from side to side - but it would not come out, it was wedged too tight.

  ‘It’s no good, nurse. Pass me the mask.’

  My heart pounded even louder. There was a hissing sound. I could hear the blood surging through my veins. The hissing got louder. The pressure in my head was unbearable. There was a mask in front of my face. My nostrils opened wide with fear as the plastic smelling vapour rose up my nose. I wanted to shake my head - as if it would make any difference- but instead my eyes moved from side to side, increasing my dizziness, my disorientation, and my fear.

  I went hotter. Everything seemed dark. Everything echoed. I could hear only the relentless hissing. My mouth was so full. My head was held so tightly by the rubber tubing. The gas filled my nostrils. My legs felt weak - useless. I tried to move them but I could not even feel them.

  Suddenly there was a gush of cold air in my mouth. The ball was free! My mouth hung wide and empty. I tried to breathe, to gasp for air, but my throat was closed and my mouth was full of spit. It ran down across my bottom lip in a stream. The hissing got louder - closer, more penetrating, shriller.

  I saw Dr Vahal’s face close to mine, and I watched his hands weaving like snakes in front of me. He was fitting something into my mouth, something metal - some sort of framework. I tried to close my mouth - to get some relief from the ball - but still it was impossible. He had fitted a metal spreader. My mouth was jammed as wide as it had been with the ball, but now what was inside my mouth, instead of being plugged and full, was exposed, available for the dentist to probe with his instruments - do what he wanted with me - and I was powerless to resist him.

  The hissing filled my head. But it was different - it had changed. It was coming from the tip of something else metal he was holding in my mouth. He was drilling my teeth!

  I smelled the sickening smell of burning bone as he forced the tip of the drill into the end of one of my canine teeth. There was no pain - it was masked by my fear. I watched his eyes in front of mine, peering into my mouth, carefully tracking the movement of the drill as its spinning bit found its way up into my tooth. My head vibrated as it entered. I closed my eyes but my lids vibrated in time with the spinning drill. I felt pinioned. It was as if I was hanging on it as it entered me, as its spinning probe sought out the blood vessels which ran in the root of my tooth.

  Suddenly, he broke off. Water squirted from the end of the drill all over my face. He held the drill as he looked at his handiwork. Satisfied, he straightaway started on the other one.

  I felt a hand flat against my cunt. I thought it must be Nurse Hiatt, but I was not sure. It pressed first, squarely across my flesh, but then I felt a finger inserting itself into the crack at its centre. It went deep. I wanted to lift my legs to give it more access but still I could not move them. Instead I lay there unable to move, my head filled with the sound of the drill, my mouth held wide with the spreader, the rubber tubing holding me fast against the headrest of the chair, my cunt filled with the finger of an unknown hand.

  It all set up a rhythm within me- a mixture of movement, the unknown, and an irresistible need for more. I couldn’t believe it. Even captive, violated and intoxicated, I could not suppress the overwhelming joy of pleasure which was aroused within me. Because I couldn’t move, because I was held so fast, and because I was unable to understand exactly what was happening, the pleasure was that much more. It was as if from the murkiness of unknowing there emerged a greater pleasure than I had ever known - as though from nothing there was created everything.

  I moved my tongue. I licked the smooth cold metal of the spreader. I followed its strange sculptured curves with the tip of my tongue. I found the end of my canine tooth. It was sharper than it had been - it was like a razor - and at it end I could feel a hole and I didn’t know to where it led. I tasted blood as I felt the drill penetrating deep inside my head.

  ‘Syra. You’re back! I’ve missed you. It’s so lonely in my little cell. All day by myself! Sometimes I can hardly bear it. Let me see what the dentist’s done, Syra. Let me see your new teeth. Are they like mine? Oh, Syra, it’s so exciting.’

  I didn’t know where I was. It was dark again and with the darkness came Caroline - that much I had learned to accept - but nothing around me was familiar. I felt hopeless and defenceless. I could not deny Caroline’s simple request.

  I opened my mouth for her to see. I wanted her to inspect my teeth, to tell me what had been done, but also to say that I was the same as her, that I was no longer lonely in my difference. When I realised what I was thinking, I went cold with fear.

  As she leant over me I pushed my hand down between the tops of her thighs and felt the warmth of her moist shaved cunt against the palm of my hand.

  ‘Oh, yes, Syra. They are beautiful,’ she said. ‘We are the same now. Is that what you want? Yes, I know you do. You can come and be with me now. You can sleep with me during the day and when it is dark we can come out and play. Would you like that, Syra, if we could play together? Syra, would you like that?’

  I nodded slowly. I was not sure what I was agreeing to, but I knew she was right; I had changed and with that change I felt closer to her. And yes, I wanted to play, even though I did not know what that meant. Her square cut fringe fell against my face - it tickled. My head filled with images of redness. I opened my mouth wide, closed my eyes and drove my fingers deeply inside her wide wet crack.

  THE DEATH OF LYDIA

  I don’t know who was pushing me, but I was in the wheelchair again, and bound tighter than ever. There were roof lights in the corridor and from each one streamed harsh shafts of sunlight. Each time we passed under one I dropped my head and closed my eyes to shield myself against their dazzling brightness. I had never felt light so intensely - it blinded me, made my eyeballs ache and set up a throbbing pain in my temples. My head was aching - pounding - and the sight of the golden shafts ahead filled me with dread as my headache worsened with each one we had to pass beneath. I felt the tension of the tapes around my wrists and ankles and realised afresh that I had no control over what was happening to me - I was subject entirely to the control of others.

  I bit my lips together and felt the sharpness of my top canine teeth digging into the inside of my bottom lip. There was a strange taste on them. I licked my lips and found myself hoping for the taste of blood! What was I thinking? I shivered as I realised the taste was both what I expected and hoped for - blood!

  We passed out through the end of the corridor into a long glass roofed veranda. I could not bear the light. My temples pulsated and I squeezed my eyes up as tightly as I could, but the brightness still penetrated my lids. It was as though it was burning into my brain. It was as if I was on fire inside. I panted loudly as my head blazed with the flashing jolts from the beams of light. At last, I felt a darkening as I was pushed into a shadow beneath a wide iron gantry that acted as a support for the broad glass roof. The shadow brought me some relief. I stared at the ground. Everything I could see was red - it was as if I was surrounded by blood - as if I was being wheeled through a pool of blood.

  ‘You’ll be here for a week apparently,’ said a woman’s voice behind me. ‘They want you to recuperate, to get your strength up before you start your treatment proper. I wish I could live a life like that - lazing around. But you’re entitled to it, I suppose. Don’t get me wrong.’

  She kicked at the brake on the wheelchair, rocked the handles to check that it was secure and left. I heard the clicking of her high heels slowly fading as she walked quickly away down the red tiled floor.

  I opened my eyelids a bit m
ore. In the shadow, if I looked down I could stand it but I had to wait for several minutes before I could look up. When finally I did, my eyes were watering with tears and my head was still thumping unbearably.

  I sat quietly in the wheelchair. I did not even test the tight pulled tapes around my ankles and wrists. I knew they were secure. I knew I could not free myself. I had become used to my captivity and no longer questioned it.

  Slowly, as it became possible, I looked down the full length of the long veranda. There was a dark shadow beneath each cantilevered support and between these shadows bright dust-speckled light shone down through the glass roof. There were beds and couches strung out along the full length. Scattered around the veranda were a lot of women in various states of undress. Some of them lay in beds, some sat on the edges, some reclined in chairs covered with a blanket, and others wandered aimlessly mumbling to themselves or gesticulating wildly.

  One slim young woman was bent across a bunk; her light flower printed dress was lifted onto her back, her taut shapely buttocks exposed. A male orderly stood behind her holding a leather strap. She was mumbling and dribbling spit. He waited for her to shout and when she did he brought the strap down with a loud crack. ‘That’ll teach you to be quiet!’ he shouted. She carried on mumbling and dribbling and when she cried out again he strapped her and repeated the instruction.

  Two women were tied on their backs to their beds. One was naked; the other was still wearing her panties - tightly pulled up against the well defined crack of her cunt. Another male orderly poured hot wax down onto the naked woman; running it along the length of her arms, across her breasts then down to the crack of her cunt. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she whimpered pitifully as she tried to absorb the pain. The other woman watched with fear knowing that she would be next. She squirmed and caused the flesh of her cunt to squeeze against the tightly pulled material of her panties.