Zippers

PART 7

 

 

 

‘Now then. I need you to read and sign this form for me. It states that you fully understand the procedures and potential complications and that you consent to have the procedures performed. Please feel free to ask any questions you like.’

 

He placed a piece of printed paper on the desk and put his fountain pen at the bottom. I picked up the form and held it in front of my face. The writing seemed to be normal but I was unable to read it. Curse you Vivienne, inside my mind. I wanted to cry again. I looked up at him and felt like while I was unable to cry - my lip, at least should be trembling. It wasn’t. I felt like an illiterate bimbo. I couldn’t even read it.

 

I signed the form. I had no choice.

 

'That's all fine Anita. You're fourth on my list so we will probably get to you in about three or four hours; in the meantime, obviously, nothing to eat or drink. If you'd like to go back towards reception and turn left just before, you can go and get checked in at the ward. I'll see you again after it's all done, Ok?'

 

He stood up and offered me his hand. I took it and shook it. I saw the crass, vile pink of my nails, my delicate fingers tiny in his strong hand. I looked away again. I picked up my bag and hurried out.

 

 

 

 

After as much time as I could realistically put it off, I had checked into the ward and changed into a theatre gown and dressing robe from my bag. Of all the stupid things, Trisha had packed my pink high-heeled slippers too. I saw one of the cleaners smiling at them on the floor as I sat with my feet dangling over the edge of the bed. I felt like a vacuous bimbo. Also, I cursed anxiously when I realised that Trisha must have been in my flat. What else had she interfered with? My mind was racing anyway.

 

Within no time I was a nervous wreck but I couldn't say anything to anyone. I'd never had an operation before and was so scared. The girl from the waiting area, Janine, was sat at the bed next to me. She noticed that I was starting to struggle.

 

'Are you ok, Sweetie?’ she asked.

 

I shook my head, looking up at her with puppy-dog eyes. She came around her bed and sat next to me. She put her arm round me and I began to shrink into her as my bottom lip began to tremble.

 

'Don't worry, everything'll be fine', she said in an Essex accent; although she seemed more than a little nervous herself. She kept trying to bite her nails and stopping; they were as plastic as my own.

 

'I know loads of girls who've had this done, they all say it's all right you know. It's a bit sore for a few days after, but then it all starts to settle down. My friend Leisha, right, she couldn't get any modelling work till she got her double D's but now she has to fight for a holiday! And she gets paid loads too. She can’t keep the blokes away neither. She came here and got the full modelling lot, lips, nose-job and tits. Reckons she'll be back for a facelift when she gets on a bit too. She does video too, don't do no hardcore though so she didn't get no bleaching or anything like that done'

 

She showed me her breasts and looked down at mine.

 

'I can't wait to get these done. Look at them, tiny aren't they. You must feel the same right? No more messing around with padded bras for us eh?'

, she laughed.

 

She was trying to cheer me up. I didn't reply, I just held on to her. I needed something for comfort. She couldn't have been much older than seventeen.

 

'My agent reckons I'll be able to get on page three after this', she said proudly. I tried to keep listening to her to take my mind off my predicament.  It was true she was very pretty and had lovely long blonde hair. I told her as much and agreed that with 'a nice pair' she'd make a great pin up. Although I pitied her for her worthless ambition and brainless lack of insight; and although I recognised that she was perhaps a different kind of slave, I had no doubt that I would have gladly swapped lives with her then, in an instant. She wasn’t owned as explicitly as I was. I had an evil Mistress who would have me cut upon for no obvious reason; and I was so scared because of it.

 

A porter arrived with a trolley. The nurse looking after us came over. She addressed my young comforter first.

 

'Miss Rothwell, I'm terribly sorry but there will have to be a delay in your procedure, we've had some equipment problems I'm afraid; nothing serious, just inconvenient. Don't worry though it will all be fine for later', she turned to me, 'Miss Durrant if you'd like to hop up onto this trolley, we can do you now instead'

 

I stared at her in disbelief. I was stunned. I didn't want to go, not at all. Janine helped me up and onto the trolley, I could barely move myself. I gaped wide eyed at her as the porter pulled up the side bars on the trolley, I felt encased. In the hope that she could somehow stop everything I desperately tried to keep looking at Janine as he started to wheel me down the corridor. I was pale, cold and sweaty as she soon disappeared around a corner. My heart was pounding as I rolled down the featureless, sterile corridor. I was hyperventilating.

 

Within no time I was in the anaesthetic room with a drip in my hand. I had heart electrodes on my chest and an oxygen sensor reading from my one clean finger. I tried to scream, I tried to move. I tried to mouth the word, 'Help'. I couldn't do anything.

 

I started to panic. I could hear the beeps of my heart rate speed up. The anaesthetist realised that I was climbing up the walls with fear and he wasted no time.

 

'Ok. Now think of something nice to dream about, keep it clean though!’ he joked, ‘and we'll see you when you wake up'

 

I felt a cold sensation in my arm and then nothing.

 

 

 

I don't know what time it was when I awoke later. I remember being sore and drowsy. I remember seeing Janine in the bed next to me with dressings over her chest. She was asleep. I looked down. I had bandaging over my nose. Looking down further, my chest was totally covered with a thick supportive dressing. Oh my God, they had done it!

 

I started to cry. I sobbed for a second and then started to wail loudly. It was 'after' now and I would have my tears; and the ones that I was owed. One of the nurses came over and cuddled me, soothing me. I wept in total and complete anguish. As I bawled my eyes out all I could think was ‘What had they done to me? What violation of my will had just occurred? What had been done to my body? What had they done to me?’

 

My lips and face were puffed and swollen. The tears rolled down over the taut skin and soaked into the bandages.

 

'There now, Anita', she said catching my name off my wristband, 'What's the matter, Hmmmm?'

 

'I don't know what they've done to me', I wept. I looked into her eyes, appealing to her for an answer now that I'd been given an opportunity to ask.

 

'Shhhhh, now', she said. She gave me a soft reassuring smile, 'It's just the after-effects of the anaesthetic. It can play with your emotions a little you know. Everything went fine you know, there's nothing at all to worry about'

 

She held me close but hadn't told me what they'd done. She slowly stroked the side of my head. I resigned that I would have to wait longer and held her tightly, I needed the contact. I couldn't say what I needed to say or ask what I needed to know. In spite of being held I felt completely alone. I closed my eyes and cuddled her.

 

 

 

I was awoken again later by the surgeon calling my name.

 

'Anita? Ah, yes, there you are. Back in the land of the living again', he joked. I didn’t want him to see me like this; but realised that he had done it all so it wasn’t new to him.

 

'Everything went perfectly you'll be delighted to know'

 

He paused and studied the chart at the end of the bed. Now was the time for me to ask him what had been done.

 

'Brilliant', he said putting the chart down, 'well, I shall see you in my clinic, all the very best and good luck with the new job. Hope I've given you a helping hand.'

 

Next to me, Janine suddenly started to throw up into a cardboard vomit-bowl. The surgeon left me to deal with her. I lay back and closed my eyes. I'd clearly had had some cosmetic surgery I thought but I was unsure of exactly what had been done - or indeed why. I guessed that he had probably enlarged my breasts and maybe given me a nose job as well. I couldn't think, though, why Vivienne and Trisha had arranged for me to have it done. I hadn't been unhappy with the way I had looked physically, I had accepted myself. I had sometimes felt that my breasts could maybe have been just a little fuller but I accepted that they suited my smaller frame. I thought large breasts looked crude on a woman of my slighter build and hoped desperately that the enlargement had been a subtle one. My nose had a little bony prominence to it but I had never been too vain to find fault with it. Why anyone would target that for correction was beyond me. As I wondered more on their motivations the residual anaesthetic took me into a peaceful slumber once more.

 

As I slept, I was moved from the recovery bay to a private room.

 

It was later that evening that I was just about well enough to get up, out of bed. The nurse insisted that I at least had a cup of tea and a piece of toast first. I said I needed the toilet and she said that she'd help me as long as I was very careful. I had a catheter in place, to be wary of, and a swollen bag of urine to empty before I could get up. I had asked for a bed pan initially but she had said that it was a good idea to try and mobilise, even if just for a short while. There were risks involved in spending too long in bed after surgery.

 

As I sat up, my belly strained and ached. There were no scars there so I didn't understand how or why it should be so painful. That didn't make it any less so.

 

As I went to stand up, my calves suddenly alit with fire. Was there none of my body that was safe to move? My feet felt fixed pointing downwards; I could hardly bend my feet up at the ankles for the pain in my calves. What had he done to my legs and what possible reason could anyone have for doing it?

 

'You'll need these now honey', the nurse said and put my slippers on the floor. I started to worry again about what had been done to me and how completely helpless I was. I slipped the toes down into the soft pink mules and tried to stand. My calves were killing me as I finally made contact with the instep, my feet resting precariously on the high heels.

 

'They won't stay that bad for long honey, don't worry. You just won't feel like doing much walking for a few days, that's all'

 

She wasn't kidding. I stood up, very glad of the heels. Any lower and I'm sure my Achilles’ tendons would have ruptured. I felt a little dizzy from the painkillers and my whole body ached. She handed me a walking frame that had been next to my bed all along.

 

'Don't be embarrassed to use this honey. Believe me, you don't want to come off those heels today'

 

'Thank you', I said. I took the frame and used it to steady myself. I slowly made my way to the toilet. I felt ridiculous with the combination of heavy bandages, stiletto heels and a Zimmer frame. The nurse walked at my side to keep a careful eye on me and keep me steady.

 

Janine had continued to be quite sick for several hours and I considered myself lucky to have not had such a nasty reaction to the anaesthetic. I was trying to think of something else as I sat on the toilet. When I tried to open my bowels I felt a terrible dull ache deep inside. I remember thinking that had I died under the anaesthetic, I would not have minded. After I made it back to bed it was with a sense of nihilism that I took my tablets and rested my head against the pillow.

 

It seemed like I had just closed my eyes when I felt a nudge, my nurse was next to me again and it was clearly much later.

 

'Telephone for you Anita', she said

 

I was immediately worried; only two people knew where I was.

 

'Hello?' I said as the nurse walked out.

 

'Ah! Anita, hello!'

 

It was Vivienne. My head was awash as the memories came flooding back. I remembered how powerful I knew she could be at the end of a telephone. I filled up with fear again, was there nowhere that I could be safe? I had my mobile too even if there wasn't a phone in my room. It dawned on me that I must be constantly accessible; constantly on an invisible leash and a telephone ring away from total control; or worse.

 

'I hear things went very well', came the voice. She sounded bright, almost friendly, as if last night hadn't happened,

 

'I also hear that you've been a good girl. I am pleased with you, Anita'

 

I felt an immense relief! I felt a pathetic happiness. I was glad that I had pleased her! It was more than the relief of my fear of her; or possible punishment; it was a cowardly celebration of my successful ingratiation to her. She had become my keeper, my Mistress, and held such incredible power over me. I had pleased her as a little pet or toy might and felt a small pride in that. I hated myself for it. Where was my dignity? I felt the pain again in my swollen breasts and remembered that I had lost control of my life; become her property.

 

'Thank you', I said, humbled and once more mindful of the delicacy of my situation.

 

'Now I want you to relax and be happy. You've been through the wars this last couple of days and I need you strong and recovered, understand. So here's what will happen'

 

I listened eagerly. I was, for the first time since last night, not anticipating something dreadful from her.

 

'As a reward, you may talk freely, within the normal boundaries. The only subject that's off-limits is your surgery; you may not discuss what has been done. You may talk about how you are though. You will notice that you have some difficulty walking to begin with, this will improve but you must keep trying to do it as this will relax and stretch the muscles again. Stick strictly to heels though, I don't want you walking anywhere without shoes. Now, you will be staying there for a couple more days to recuperate. I suggest you get plenty of rest, eat well and enjoy yourself with the other girls as much as you can. The food is excellent there, so enjoy it, and I have arranged for you to be massaged tomorrow. How does that sound?'

 

'It sounds wonderful Mistress, thank you', I whispered, almost touched by her apparent mercy. I had not expected that at all.

 

'You see girl, if you behave yourself, good things sometimes happen. I will look at you when you return. In the meantime I suggest you continue to please me'

 

She hung up. I slowly rested my head back, into the pillow. I let out a long slow breath and for the first time in a long time, smiled a little. My body ached mildly but it was with a mild euphoria and a soporific haze from the morphine that I went to sleep; gone was my anxiety.