Repost; A Year Of Slavery 3-1 by debs nc,bdsm,tort,sex,MM/FF/f

[Johnny P]

Disclaimer: This story contains graphic descriptions of sex, violence, rape and
torture. It is definitely NOT for anyone under 21 or who is offended by such
material. This story is fictional and any resemblance to anyone dead or alive is
purely coincidental. I welcome comments and suggestions from readers but all
flames will be ignored.
A Year Of Slavery # 3-1
" Tina "
By; debs
Edited By; Johnny P

Goldie simply but maliciously opened the door, pushed me out and threw
my coat after me. The bright morning sun was blinding after the gloom of the
torture chamber. The cold Long Island air helped clear my head but also made me
realize I was almost nude. Clinging to an ornate banister for support I looked
up to get my bearings and saw two figures approaching me. In a panic I tried to
focus and at the same time retrieve my coat. Suddenly I heard a female voice
softly saying my name. It took several seconds for me to recognize Tina
Reisand, a co-worker from the office and the chauffeur. This could not be. I had
been discovered. What would I say. What would I do. Before I was able to say or
do anything Tina picked up my coat and gently placed it over my shoulders. I
began to ask what she was doing here. She calmly said not to talk saying there
would be plenty of time for explanations later. Tina and the chauffeur then
helped me into the waiting limo. I must have passed out because when I awoke I
found myself lying across the back seat of the limo still dressed in the long
black bra and stockings I had on during my ordeal. I saw the drivers eyes in the
rear view mirror as he watched my every move. I frantically tried to cover up as
he asked if I was all right. Thinking he was speaking to me I was about to
answer when Tina said "She doesn't appear to be seriously injured". In my semi
conscious state I had forgotten Tina.
Startled I demanded to know what she was doing there. At the same time I
struggled with my coat trying to shield myself from the chauffeurs gaze. Tina
was gently helping me sit up and at the same time saying that I should calm down
and she would explain everything as soon as we got to my house. She also told me
not to be too concerned with the driver saying he had seen it all before. As we
kept driving I drifted in and out of consciousness When I looked up again I
recognized my neighborhood. I had a million questions to ask Tina but as I
started she again said there would be plenty of time later. We finally pulled up
in front of my building and luckily it was still very early in the morning and
none of my nosy neighbors where up yet. Tina helped me from the car but I could
barely stand let alone walk. She turned to the chauffeur and said "Jimmy please
help us upstairs". Without thinking I handed him the keys and he opened the
door. Then they each took an arm and helped guide me to my apartment. Jimmy
opened the second door and I was helped in and to the couch. I was at last home
and for the first time since 6 o'clock last evening I felt somewhat safe.
Silently I huddled in the comfort of my own surroundings. I was surprised to
hear the chauffeur ask Tina if there was anything else he could do. Her reply
was even more surprising. She said she would beep him if she needed his help and
then asked if he could pick us up for work Monday morning. Before he could
answer Tina just asked for a yes or no adding, she knew the deal. I did not
understand what the meaning of all that was but he assured her he would and
coyly promised to help in any way. Looking back over his shoulder he gave us
both an evil smile and shut the door leaving me alone with Tina. I watched in
silence as she quickly looked for and found what was needed to make coffee. She
also found a large pot and filled it with hot water. She called over to me
asking where to find towels. When she found them she brought them and the pot of
water to the couch. Not willing to be put off any longer I insisted that she
start to answer some questions. She agreed but said
we could talk while she attended to my injuries. I felt helpless and strange as
Tina began to undress me. First she took off the red heels I had been wearing
all night. Next she undid the garters and rolled the stockings down my legs. As
she started to unhook the heavy bra Goldie had forced me into earlier my
nervousness made me again demand to know what was going on. My eyes met Tina's
in time to see tears forming. I was so confused by what I saw I did not realize
that she had removed the bra leaving me totally naked again. As she began to wet
the towels in the hot water Tina just blurted out that she was also being
blackmailed and in the same predicament as me. I felt my mouth
fall open in disbelief. We had worked together for over six years and I never
had the vaguest idea. Even as she wiped me down with the soothing liquid I
stared at her in shock watching the tears roll down her cheeks. Finally she
broke the silence by saying "They really did a job on you". I think I just began
to stutter phrases like "I can't believe it hurts so bad". As she placed towels
on my abused breasts and I flinched from the pain she replied "I know how you
feel, I've had it all done to me".
The realization of what she was saying suddenly hit me. I tried to get up saying
"What do you mean you're being blackmailed too". Letting out a deep sigh of
despair Tina got up and said she would get the coffee and explain everything
from the beginning. Returning from the kitchen in a few seconds she placed a cup
of coffee in front of me. Seemingly to make idle chatter and give her time to
collect her thoughts she commented on the variety and quality of my coffee
stock. "I had it for when John came, he enjoys good coffee" I replied.
Tina sat in a chair next to me, kicked off her shoes and tucked her knees into
her chest similar to a pre-natal position. I interpreted her actions as a form
of seeking shelter and trying to escape from reality. Obviously what she had to
say was very painful for her. At last she began. She said she had a daughter who
was now twenty four. When she was twenty she got involved with drugs and was
arrested for possession. It turned out that she had two grams over some specific
limit and was charged with dealing. After many thousands of dollars in legal
fees and a lawyer who was more interested in how much he could make, she was
sentenced to five years in the state prison for woman.
Tina continued to tell me how she tried appeals, other lawyers, even government
officials. She tried anything she could think of because her daughter Denise was
all she had. Tina recalled how she married young. Was involved in an abusive
relationship with a man who was constantly cheating. They had a daughter and
were soon divorced leaving her on her own before she was twenty one. Denise was
all she had. Before Tina went on she re-heated the towels and replaced them on
the battered areas of my body. She suggested that after I rest awhile a hot bath
would help. I acknowledged the suggestion and asked her to go on with her story.
Apparently when Denise got to prison she was young, attractive and white. Those
qualities put her in great demand with both the guards and the inmates, most of
whom were minorities with lesbian tendencies. Denise was in trouble right from
the start. On Tinas first visit she could see
that Denise had been beaten and was on the verge of a break down. Denise was
hysterical as she described how she had been attacked and sexually violated.
Tina was shocked as her daughter told of the threats that had been made if she
did not do as she was told. Seeing her childs fragile state and hearing Denise
talk, Tina knew her daughter would not survive. Tina immediately went to see the
wardress.
Upon entering the wardresses office she could not believe her good fortune. It
turned out to be Ms. Collins, a client of the Winstons she had met several times
at the office. After a cordial but hurried exchange Tina explained her reason
for being there. The wardress seemed genuinely concerned and without hesitation
promised to look into the matter but explained that prison was after all a
dangerous place full of societies rejects. Tina recounted how she cried and
begged the wardress for help adding that she would do anything to ensure her
childs safety. The wardress at that point told Tina that because she worked for
the Winstons she was sure something could be done.
A loud moan from me gave Tina the chance to stop telling her story, which seemed
to be very difficult to relate. The pain was not subsiding so Tina insisted that
I take a hot bath to help bring down the swelling. She also said that she had
some ointment that would help. Not waiting for my reply, she headed into the
bathroom and started a bath. Returning she helped me from the couch. As we
headed toward the bathroom I felt very strange walking next to this woman
totally nude. We did work together but really did not know each other very well.
We had gone out for lunch or dinner several times over the years but for
whatever reason did not become close friends. I thought of Tina as being
unusually quiet and often moody. She always kept to herself and worked long
hours, often coming in early and staying late. Many times I wondered why she put
in such long hours for no apparent reason. The water was painful as it touched
my body but I tried to hold back the sobs. Tina explained that it was necessary
and I would soon feel better. She was right. After a few minutes I did feel a
bit better. I took this opportunity to ask Tina why she was here, and how long
she was staying. I thought back to the request she made to the chauffeur, who's
name I learned was Jimmy, about picking us up Monday morning. Her answer was
that she would spend the rest of the weekend with me. The Winstons ordered her
to help me and also explain certain things to me. But she quickly added that she
was glad to do it, and only wished someone had helped her in the beginning.
As some of the pain began to seep from my body and my mind started to clear I
felt both confused and embarrassed. Tina seemed to sense my discomfort and
suggested I go lie down for awhile. She helped me to my feet as she took a robe
from behind the door and placed it over my shoulders. She then gently helped me
into the bedroom, suggesting I sleep for awhile promising to tell me more later.
With the state I was in later would not do. I asked, no, more demanded that Tina
get us more coffee and explain, as she put it. Obviously what she had to tell me
was not easy for her. She went back to her story by telling how she trusted the
wardress and the Winstons. She was certain her daughter would be safe. Tina
explained how Denise was given a job in the prison office and even kept in a
separate dorm away from general population. Everything seemed to be going as
well as possible. After a month or so Tina explained how one day she was asked
to stay late for a meeting. To her surprise the people at the meeting were Mr.
and Mrs. Winston, the wardress, Dr. Kim and Goldie.
Tina could only imagine it was a business meeting and she was needed in some
way. She recalled how she immediately went to the wardress to personally thank
her for her help. Instead of the charming Ms. Collins Tina had spoken to in the
past she was shocked to be told to sit down, shut up and listen. It sounded
familiar as Tina explained how she was given a choice. She would either do as
the group ordered or Denise could fall into harms way. First Tina was reminded
of her willingness to do anything to help her daughter. She then listened to a
detailed explanation of what they demanded of her in return for Denise's safety.
Feeling suddenly ill Tina ran from the office in tears. She was shocked at what
she had been told. There was no way that she or any woman would willingly do
what they asked. That night as
she sat alone worrying about her daughters safety Tina got a call from a
terrified Denise. She told her mother that she was being transferred back to
population and begged for help. It was easy to realize what was happening. If
Tina refused to cooperate with her employers and their friends, her daughter
would not survive. In desperation Tina placed a call to the Winstons. After a
lot of begging and pleading on not only her daughters behalf but also her own
she tried in vain to offer other forms of payment. When Mrs. Winston laughed,
Tina's temper prevailed and she threatened to call the police. As tired and hurt
as I was Tina's story had my full attention. The next
day Tina called in sick. She had spent the entire night thinking of what to do.
Her thoughts kept going back to what she was told the previous day and of her
daughters situation. She kept thinking that what they wanted of her was not
normal. If sex was all they demanded, even with women, she could handle that.
After all she was forty one years old, not in bad shape, had been divorced
nearly twenty years. She had also been around. But what they demanded was sick,
perverted and disgusting.
Without being told I knew what she meant. She told me how her thoughts were
interrupted around noon by the knock of a messenger at the door. She was given a
package that contained a video tape and a note. I couldn't help but think how
familiar this was to my own entrapment. She recalled how she immediately began
to watch the tape. It was obviously a tape made at the prison. The voice
narrating the tape was that of the wardress. Tina recognized some of the rooms
shown from her visits. After a minute or two the scenes shifted to rooms Tina
had never seen. What she did see was a cell with about a dozen women laying
around. Most of them were either black or Spanish. The majority looked old,
dirty and tough. There were a few young white girls like Denise, they all looked
scared.
Another scene showed a group of black women in a large shower room. Some were
being washed by young white girls while in a corner several others were kicking
and punching a small blonde. As Tina studied the tape she saw that most of the
women were badly bruised, some even looked like they had been whipped.
The next scene showed an attractive redhead. She was nude and hanging by her
wrists screaming as she was being brutally whipped by the wardress. The camera
showed the entire room. To Tina's horror it was some kind of dungeon. Tina began
to cry openly as she continued telling me what she saw. As the camera moved it
showed Denise strapped to a large wooden table. She was screaming as four burly
female guards were ripping her clothes off. On the table next to Denise was an
assortment of dildos and several horrible looking whips. At that point Tina said
the tape went blank.
She recalled how she picked up the note and read about how this and worse could
easily happen unless she decided to save her daughter and cooperate. As they had
managed to coerce me into submission, they had also succeeded with Tina. She had
no choice, Denise was all she had and the group knew it. Seeing her child at the
mercy of the guards made Tina run to the phone and place a call to Mr. Winston.
Hysterically she begged him to call the prison and make them stop. She promised
to do whatever they wanted in order to insure her daughters safety. In a tone of
voice she had never heard from Mr. Winston before, he said he had been
expecting her call. He then asked her if she was sure about her change of
attitude. Tearfully Tina admitted she was trapped and had no choice.
Sarcastically he told her how right she was and agreed to call the prison. He
then told her to be at work tomorrow and be prepared to stay late. Tina recalled
how he anticipated her next question. He told her that after work she would meet
with some of the others involved and would need to sign some papers. Then even
more sarcastically he added that he looked forward to seeing her tomorrow. Tina
remembered how angry yet helpless she felt as she heard him laughing as he hung
up the phone. As much as I tried to remain still and listen to her story it was
impossible. The swelling and burning sensation where I was given the injections
was getting much worse. I told Tina what was wrong. Without saying a word she
opened my robe and took a look. She said ice packs might help. She got up and
headed into the kitchen. A few minutes later she was back with three plastic
bags full of ice. Two were placed on my breasts and one was eased between my
legs. As I grimaced in pain she assured me it would help bring down the
swelling. Then she asked me if anything else was hurting badly. I complained
about the burning from the suppositories. She assured me that the enema would
cure that in a few hours. Looking at the whip marks on my thighs she said that
she had some ointment that would help that. After Tina gently treated
the bruises she said that she had some pills and ointments that she had
collected through the years. She asked me if I knew what was in the injections I
had been given. "I think they said Bees venom, do you know what it is"? I
answered. Nervously she said "Unfortunately very well, it's one of their
favorites and they've used it on me many, many times".
The way Tina answered I could tell it was hard for her to discuss. She handed me
a small pill she said was Benadryl and said "Luckily these work well on any
histamines they use". As soon as I swallowed the pill I asked her to please tell
me about the injections. Obviously trying to close the subject she said "Please
Deb, you have to sleep, we'll have plenty of time to talk later". I should have
realized Tina was trying not to upset me but I kept demanding to know more.
Again a nervous look crossed her face as she fluffed the pillows trying to
make me comfortable. "There are some things you're better off not knowing just
yet" she said as she curled into the chair next to my bed. I could see by her
face that she was upset but I kept pushing. For some strange reason I wanted to
know what they had done to Tina. I felt knowing would help me cope with my own
pain and impending ordeals. After a long silence Tina agreed to answer my
questions saying she thought about it and often wished she had had someone to
explain things to her in the beginning. Also there were her instructions from
the Winstons. She asked me if I wanted her to continue with her story or tell me
about the injections. I thought for a second and said "We'll go back to you in a
minute, right now I'm thinking about what they did to me and the pain I'm in".
She took a deep breath and began. Tina
started by saying that different types of needles would often be used on me. She
explained how a large variety of liquids were used in the injections. Some were
as simple as very hot water or oil, others complex drugs. Some were plant or
animal extracts like poison ivy or the Bees Venom. Mostly these were given in
syringes of various sizes, which according to Tina was not nearly as bad as an
intravenous system they sometimes used.
Generally the procedure was done by the Dr. but Tina warned that anyone of them
could do it. She was nervously playing with her hands as she told me that the
breasts were used ninety percent of the time but no part of the body was spared.
I babbled some stupid comment and sat shaking my head in disbelief. Lowering her
eyes toward the floor Tina said that she had even been given shots in her tongue
and clit. As if to anticipate my next question Tina went on to explain why she
had been given certain injections.
The main reason was that the group enjoyed it and also because it made the
victim suffer and scream. Sometimes shots were given as punishment for a
specific reason. I asked Tina what she meant. She told me that once in the
beginning of her enslavement she did not suck Mr. Winston as well as he thought
she should have. That afternoon she was taken to Dr. Kims office by Mrs. Winston
and Goldie. When she was taken downstairs into the private treatment room she
knew she was in trouble. As she entered there were several other women who
apparently were there for the show.
Tina told me how she was immediately ordered to strip and get on the examining
table. Although she was terrified she did as she was told, knowing from
experience that to disobey only brought more pain. Without elaborating Tina told
me how during the course of that afternoon she was given over thirty injections.
More than twenty syringes full of various liquids were put into her breasts. The
Dr. also spent a long time torturing her pussy with the needles. Most were
injected into the outer lips but some very long ones were used internally. I
could see that Tina was having a tough time talking about her past experiences.
My requests and her orders to tell me what I had to look forward to kept her
talking. Coffee and a cigarette helped Tina continue. With shaking hands she
recalled how when she was sure she would go mad from the pain the Dr. announced
that there were only two more syringes left to be used. She explained how her
tongue was pulled out with a pair of forceps and held by one of the observers.
At the same time Mrs. Winston told her that because she did not use her mouth
properly, that is where she would receive the most pain. Tina summed up that
part of her story by saying she of course passed out as each needle was slowly
inserted into her tongue by the Dr. It was almost a full week before the
swelling went down enough for her to talk normally. It took even longer to eat
with no pain. As Tina looked directly into my eyes she said "That was the last
time Mr. Winston complained about a blow job from me". Although I was horrified
and upset at what I had just heard I also took it as a warning. Without any
prompting Tina began to recount other episodes with the injections. In one story
I was told how the Dr. used the syringes as tools of torture during our monthly
check-ups. I remember being told that I would be checked every month but it did
not seem relevant at the time. Now I listened with renewed interest.
Tina was becoming more at ease. She explained how for their own safety the group
required us to be given complete physical exams every four weeks. Their primary
concern was to check us for any diseases and make sure we were in good health.
We would receive any medication the Dr. felt was necessary, be given vitamins
and birth control drugs and last but not least have a lot of blood drawn. Mostly
though the Dr. used the exams to enjoy her own perverted games and turn simple
medical procedures into torture. I saw by the expressions on Tina's face how
hard it was for her to tell me about some of the ways the Dr. had used needles
on her. She told
me how blood is drawn from places like our nipples or pussy lips. Sometimes the
Dr. even uses special long needles to reach inside our pussies to take blood.
Depending on how sadistic the Drs. mood was normal medications were often
injected into our breasts, stomachs, arm pits or even clits.
I quickly began to understand Tina's body language and facial expressions. When
a specific subject was upsetting to her she began to sweat and clench her hands
into tight fists. As she spoke of the check-ups I watched her knuckles turn
white. She looked at me and said that even after three years the Dr. still
scared her. At that point she warned me about asking to go to the Dr. Unless it
was absolutely necessary I should never ask to be treated. Tina told me to learn
how to help myself or like now, we would help each other. Getting up from the
chair she was curled into Tina checked on the ice packs and said the swelling
was going down a little. She put a head on the coffee and told me that luckily I
did not seem to be having any allergic reactions to the shots. That statement
made me remember what she had said about the venom being one of their favorites
and that she had been injected many times. When I asked her what she meant she
just looked back at me, shrugged her shoulders and said "I may as well tell you
so you'll know what to expect". With that statement Tina began to explain the
horrors of the Bees Venom.
Not only was it used for torture, it was also used to accentuate certain parts
of our bodies. Tina told me that sometimes before certain events she had been
taken to the Drs. office. The treatment she received depended on what was going
to be done to her and how they wanted her to look. Although I listened to every
word, I didn't completely understand what she meant and I said so. My ignorance
and lack of understanding seemed to be getting her even more upset. After a few
moments hesitation she said "Let me tell you what happened about two weeks ago,
it might help you understand."
Tina told me that it was 9am Friday morning. She had just arrived at work and
without warning was called into Mr. Winstons office. With an evil smile on his
face he told her that she would be going to Harlem later that night. As my eyes
widened and I opened my mouth to ask a question, Tina said she would explain
Harlem later. Continuing she said that Mr. Winston also told her to be at Dr.
Kims. office at noon. From past experience she unfortunately knew why.
She had been taken to Harlem many times during the three years of her
enslavement. Sometimes she was taken by Goldie. Other times it was because the
group was paid a great deal of money by a woman named Bertha. In either event it
meant she would be used in a show or as a whore and had to be prepared by the
Dr. I could see how upset she was by the
beads of sweat on her face and the way she continued clenching her fists. Tina
nervously shifted in her chair lighting another cigarette and taking a long
swallow of coffee. Apparently telling me about Harlem and what was done to her
by the Dr. was difficult. As she returned to her original position she
continued. She was taken to Dr. Kims office by the chauffeur. On the way he
handed her a sealed envelope which contained her instructions for the night.
There were three women sitting in the Drs. waiting room. They would all be going
into one of the plush examining rooms on the main floor. Tina had to sit, wait
her turn and think about her trip to the basement, and later to Harlem. After an
agonizing two hour wait the office was empty except for Dr. Kim and her equally
sadistic little oriental nurse. Without a word they pushed Tina towards the
stairs leading to the secret treatment room. As I listened a shudder ran through
me as I remembered my own visit to the dreaded torture chamber. Tina saw my
reaction but continued talking. Upon entering, the Dr. locked the door and
roughly ordered Tina to remove her dress. She was then directed to stand in her
high heels and underwear with her hands behind her neck. She stood that way for
almost an hour watching and listening as the Dr. and nurse prepared for her
treatment. Being made to stand in that
position was not unusual, she said. They do it to humiliate us and make us
realize what we are. It was also done to give anyone present a chance to
visually and physically examine us. Finally the Dr. was standing in front of
her, Tina recalled. She made her remove her bra and resume her position. Tina
already knew by the note she was given that she was being sent to Bertha. She
also knew that they were going to increase the size of her breasts, but as usual
the Dr. wanted to mentally torture her first.
She reminded Tina of the last time she was given a similar treatment. She spoke
of the pain of the needles and the special solution she had used. She reminded
Tina how Bertha had her held down, across a table as she whipped her tits with a
strap to make her perform better. And lastly how painful it was to have the
solution removed. As Tina had done before she combined her story with an
explanation of what I could expect in the future. She briefly told me how after
being made to strip completely she was strapped to a steel table in the corner.
There she was douched with a solution of alcohol and very hot water. She was
also given several large painful enemas by the nurse.
Hearing the words douche and enema made me suddenly remember what Goldie had
subjected me too only a short time ago. I must have made some type of expression
that prompted Tina to say " I'll bet you spent some time in the water room".
That comment opened the door for me to bring up the ginger that was put in me.
Knowingly Tina said "the enema they gave you will take the burning away soon".
When I made a comment about having something as personal as a douche or enema
done by a stranger, Tina said I could expect that often. Sometimes it would be
done before we were sent somewhere. Mostly it was done afterwards, especially if
we were used a lot sexually. She added that it was only done by the Dr. if we
needed some other form of medical treatment. Otherwise we were sent to Goldies
aunt Dorathea. Again, before I was able to ask any questions she summed that
part up by saying that the worst of then were given in the water room as another
form of torture. She added that I should remind her to tell me about Dorathea,
later.
She immediately continued telling me what happened in the Drs. office while she
was still secured to the table. The nurse brought the Dr. six syringes which
Tina said she knew were an assortment of vitamins, stimulants and anti-biotics.
She was always given these injections before being sent to Bertha and always in
the most painful ways. As bad as I felt physically from what I had been through,
it was nothing compared to the mental anguish I was feeling listening to Tina. I
watched her as she came toward me to check the ice packs. It was amazing how
well she looked after three years of the treatment she was describing. I had
only been involved in two sessions and felt that I could not take any more.
When Tina began to once again speak I gave her my full attention. She briefly
described the way she was given the injections and the pleasure the Dr. derived
from causing her the greatest amount of pain possible. Then She began to tell me
what happened when she was released from the table.
As she said before, she knew the Dr. was going to temporarily increase the size
of her breasts, this time using the bees venom. That procedure was basically
done one of two ways. The first Tina said was the way it had been done to me. By
having a series of injections put directly into each tit. Although that was very
painful she prayed that the Dr. would do that instead of by the intravenous
system that was also used.
When she was pushed toward a door she had gone through several times before she
knew she was about to suffer terribly. The door lead to a small room in which
she had previously been given prolonged breast torture. When the door opened and
she saw the two IV stands with all the bottles and tubes hanging ready she began
to sob and beg the Dr. not to do it that way. She even told me how she tried
bargaining with the Dr. Offering to voluntarily submit to other forms of
torture. She also promised to be a willing and enthusiastic sex slave to the
Drs. most perverse desires. The Dr. only smiled and sarcastically said she could
make Tina do any of those things regardless.
Tina tried in vain to plead her case. When she was ordered to enter the room she
refused. With a wide grin on her face the Dr. told Tina how easy it would be to
have Denise take her place. As usual Tina put her head down and did as she was
told. The nurse pointed to the large wooden chair that Tina was all too familiar
with. It was the same as the one in the dungeon at the Winston house. The nurse
quickly strapped Tina's ankles to the heavy wooden legs and pulled her arms
behind the back of the chair. With the use of special straps Tina described how
her elbows were made to touch causing severe pain to her shoulders and also
causing her breasts to be thrust forward. To complete the bondage a wide belt
was tightened around her waist making it virtually impossible for Tina to move.
As the nurse began swabbing her chest with alcohol the Dr. picked up a folder
containing Tina's files and began to read out load. She read more to cause Tina
mental anguish than to gather information. As if Tina needed to be told the Dr.
explained that by administering 300cc of venom into each tit she would increase
the size of Tina's chest from 36-C to at least a 38-D. Unfortunately Tina knew
from past experience that it would take about two hours to have that much flow
into her. She also knew that she would be in a lot of pain and run high fevers
for almost a week if that much of the chemical was not neutralized.
Even before the first needle was forced deeply into her delicate tissue Tina
shuddered at the thought of what price she would have to pay the Dr. in order to
have the right anti-histamines given. She told me that in the past she tried to
wait for the solutions to dissipate naturally but could not. She realized long
ago that it was better to submit to the Drs. demands, no matter how perverse.
Even now it was clear to see the fear and agony on Tina's face as she described
how the needles were inserted. One set about two inches long were put into the
upper slope of each breast. A second similar set was bushed deeply into the
tender undersides. Then the last and by far the worst set which were about three
inches in length were forced through the nipple into the center of the breast.
Before Tina's words came to an end I visualized her in the chair screaming as
the Dr. and nurse looked on in amusement. I remembered how they looked at me as
they put the syringes into my breasts. As she again got up to check on me she
said that she remained in the chair well over two hours before the bottles were
empty. When she was released, she was bathed in sweat. Partially from the pain,
partially from the fever that was taking hold. I
was then told how the Dr. spent a few minutes checking and squeezing her swollen
and burning breasts. Tina was then told to freshen up, fix her hair and make-up
and then she would get her clothes. At that statement she began to laugh. When I
asked why she explained that she was laughing at the word clothes. It really
meant some form of revealing and very uncomfortable underwear. In that
particular instance she was given an especially made, black, heavily constructed
garter girdle. Tina sarcastically added that it allowed access to her ass and
pussy without being removed. A black half cup bra, which not only caused pain
but also showed her exaggerated breasts very well. Black stockings and red high
heels. To that the Dr. added a black half slip, red blouse and 2 piece black
suit. The puzzled look on my face made Tina quickly say that the more we wore,
the more we could be made to take off. As she was finally lead out of the hidden
torture chamber to the waiting limo the Dr. sarcastically told her to enjoy her
night in Harlem and call when she was ready to have the solution neutralized. My
mind was full of questions. The more I analyzed what was said, the more
questions I wanted to ask. I sat staring down at the ice packs on my own abused
breasts trying to absorb what I had been told. I thought of what Tina had just
said and remembered a phrase the Dr. had once used when she was examining my
breasts. Ideal for tit torture. I also recalled the tour I was given by Mrs.
Winston. When she showed me the chair Tina had described she said I would be
spending long hours bound to it, receiving "tit torture".
Again I was brought out of my daydream by Tina. She suggested I take another
bath while she made something for us to eat. She also reminded me how badly I
needed sleep. Besides the ordeal I had gone through I had been awake for more
than twenty four hours. I did indeed need sleep but between Tinas explanations
of what my future had in store, and the pain, sleep was the furthest thing from
my mind. After the ice packs, the hot water felt wonderful. With Tinas help I
got out of the tub and dried off. Looking in the mirror was a mistake. I was a
mass of bruises and now even though the swelling had subsided a bit, my pussy
and tits were turning black and blue. When I asked Tina why, she took a look and
asked if I had been beaten with a rubber hose. When I said yes, Tina told me
that the hoses did not break the skin but damaged the blood vessels underneath
causing the severe bruising. She quickly added that they would heal in a week or
two. As I stared at the image in the mirror, I began to cry hysterically. How
could this have happened. What had been done to me and what Tina was describing
was too bizarre to be real. I tried to tell myself that It must be some kind of
sick and perverted nightmare. But as I looked into the reflection of my own eyes
and surveyed my surroundings I knew it was all too real.
Wrapping my robe around my shoulders I slowly went to the table and sat down.
Tina had put together a quick lunch of soup and sandwiches. Even though I had no
appetite, it was a welcome change from the coffee and cigarettes. Before I had a
chance to start asking anymore questions, Tina began to inquire about some
photos that were nearby. Most were of my nieces and nephew. A few were of my
father, mother, brothers and sisters. And one was of John. As I looked at his
picture I realized I would not be able to see him anymore. Since my crimes had
been discovered I had withdrawn from him. He kept trying to see me and spend
time with me. I used every possible excuse to avoid him. When we did see each
other I managed to always be somewhere other than my apartment. I felt that way
there would be little chance of intimacy. When asked about the change in my
behavior I said it was the pressure of my job and even blamed PMS.
Until now it was mainly my mental state that had caused me to act this way. Now,
the image I had seen in the mirror plainly indicated that he could never see me
nude again. All of a sudden as I sat there, I realized how much I loved him and
how much I would miss him. I began to cry. Without asking Tina realized why I
had become so hysterical. She tried to offer condolence and reassurance but knew
what she was saying was pointless. She tried to comfort me holding me and wiping
my tears. When I had calmed a bit I saw for the first time that she was also
crying. As I looked at her she said she knew exactly how I felt because she had
also been forced to abandon a love. Instead of returning to the bedroom when we
finished eating, I went into the living room and curled up on the couch. It was
bright and cheerful so I thought it might make my life seem less depressing.
Tina soon joined me with the ever present coffee and cigarettes. As soon as she
was comfortable I asked, in a tone that I myself realized sounded very
demanding, to be told about Harlem. Without argument She just looked at me and
said "you may as well know, you'll be going there too".

Continued In,
A Year Of Slavery #3-2