Juliette The Super Tramp

Juliette the Super Tramp - Chapter 19

       My mind was so active it almost hurt to think. I was trying to handle so many conflicting thoughts at once that it all became a jumble. Where was I going? Would it be a nice lengthy gangbang with all the trimmings and yours truly playing the part of the Thanksgiving turkey, all trussed and ready for the eating? Perhaps some kind and gentle surgeon was about to repair my eye or perhaps both so I could see what was coming before it arrived? Had my wannabe lover, Dr. Marquad-Snyder, come to rescue me from the hands of those who were scandalized by my gargantuan appetites when it came to sex and pain? Would it be something bad, an attempt to wean me from the life I had grown to understand and love? All of the above were possible and many more to boot. Whether it be good or bad, it would be something new and exciting, of that I was certain.

       We went into an elevator and ascended for some time as my excitement grew. What new activity would involve me this time? Out of the elevator we went and now were rolling down a long hallway. My boon companions had been silent for the entire trip to date, which troubled me somewhat. Had they spoken to each other, I might have been able to piece together enough information to make a good guess at what was going to transpire once we arrived at our destination. We stopped for a few moments and then moved into a large space based on the way things echoed. There is much truth that the loss of one sense usually makes the others more acute. My ears were picking up a variety of new sounds that indicated there were many people, most of them moving from one spot to another. Of interest I could not make out any words, it was as if the room was filled with cotton, effectively muffling whatever was being transmitted from one person to the other. Another sound that I could pick up from the muffled background noise was a random metallic clinking. Still I was unable to figure out where and for what purpose I had been taken to this place.

       Suddenly there were hands on my bare body, freeing me of my chains for a moment and then lifting me into the air for a brief period of time before depositing me upon a flat surface that had some give to it. At last I heard some words that made sense. A still slightly muffled male voice directed my handlers to strap me down to the table and make sure I was held fast before he began "carving me up." In a flash I understood everything, or so I thought. I'd been transported to an operating room and was about to have surgery. Two things went through my mind at roughly the same instant. My eye and perhaps even my face might be returned to normal, and in the process I would enjoy the pain that came with the process. Then the voice spoke directly to me and my blood turned to ice and I was unable to draw breath, so great was the shock from his words.

       "My dear Juliette, it's so nice to meet you in the flesh in a more disciplined environment, so to speak. You are here at the behest of your doctor. Lois and I have arranged a liaison that allows us both to alter your somewhat unruly personality in ways that will yield a more acceptable companion for each of us. I am not at all sure that you will enjoy becoming the person we wish you to be, but you are not in any position to thwart us. Today you will take that first giant step toward a rebirth, one that might prove to be most painful for you. That will be your burden to shoulder. Now let us begin overhauling you, a process that will be rather benign at first, but later you may very well wish that you had died on the table. Now let's get busy. Doctor, will you start the anesthetic. Now Juliette, I want you to count backward from one hundred."

       I never made it to ninety-nine, which is normal. However in that brief moment of consciousness I realized my dear doctor and lover wannabe had sold me to the highest bidder for her nefarious intentions. While I was under, my mind generated all manner of outcomes for me, none of them acceptable. Would I awaken still blind and perhaps deaf and dumb as well? Would I become thrall for the surgeon, or worse still something upon which he could practice his skill? Perhaps I would become his private torture and sex toy, subject to his whims that might include removing my clitoris as I lay unconscious, suturing the entrance to my cunt to prevent me from enjoying normal sex, and even cutting out most of my bowels so I would spend the rest of my miserable life wearing a colostomy bag protruding from my belly or side. I'm sure that would make me very appealing to any potential sex partner, especially the perverted ones.

       I have no idea how long I was under, but gradually I came out of the fog that surrounded me into a new world. The pain was overwhelming! It felt as if there were a group of midgets in my skull pounding away with their little hammers. My attempts to sit up were unsuccessful, probably because I was naked and manacled to the corners of the bed upon which I was restrained. I also was still blind and the region around my "good" eye hurt like fury. Evidently for reasons that were unknown to me, the eye was now sutured shut. Then it hit me like a runaway freight train, the pain hurt, it hurt like the fires of hell, but there was no pleasure attached to it anymore! What had that monster done to me? For a time I descended into the hell of uncertainty. Was this just some temporary condition, perhaps brought on by the anesthetic or a slip of the scalpel or....? The more I tried to convince myself this was just something temporary, the more depressed I became.

       To prevent myself from going quite mad, I tried to concentrate on why my good eye, at least it was once, had been sewn shut. Had he operated on my eye and was now letting it heal before allowing it to react to light and function as it once had? Had he done both eyes by any chance? That would be marvelous, two for the price of one, but then reality set in on me once more and the lengthening shadows crept into my mind and sent it spinning downward once again. While all this was taking place, the level of pain in my head grew steadily. I gave into my fears and began thrashing against my metal bonds to no avail. I tried to scream and then realized that my vocal cords weren't working either. Then I gave into my worst fears, everything I was experiencing was caused purposefully by that master, or was it monster, of the scalpel. What senses had he allowed me to retain? I was blind, dumb and in constant pain. If only the pain would trigger my sex organs to blot out the unvarnished agony I was experiencing. It wasn't fair! All the while my legs and arms were flexing and failing to free me from my bonds. Why wasn't at least? Just how callous could the hospital staff be?

       I was so busy with myself that my visitor was upon me before I knew she was there. Her hand stroked my fevered brow and my lover wannabe, Dr. Lois Marquad-Snyder, announced her presence by running her sharp fingernails across my big tits that became aroused quickly. However in an instant she introduced me to more of the new type of pain, a turncoat that I would learn to fear and abhor. She captured one of my stiff nipples and squeezed it mercilessly before giving it a twist that took my breath away and made the hair on my body stand at attention. I could hear her low throaty laugh, but was unable to communicate my feelings to her. She was close enough to lick my cheek and give my lips a nip as well. Then she backed away and began to explain what had happened to me on the table and why she arranged for it to occur.

       "Juliette, you are such a tramp. You are insatiable and lack judgment when it comes to your sex partners. I finally had to admit there was no reasonable way for the two of us to have a serious adult relationship due to your enormous appetite for things sexual. I would be just another number in the list of conquests, a number that you could not even name correctly. Then there was the matter of your aberrant behavior when it came to sex and pain. I could not tolerate the way you offer yourself to anyone with the urge to physically harm you, provided it sets off that nasty sexual response that lurks within your makeup. So after many, long, sleepless nights I decided to take action in hope of breaking that chain connecting sex with pain."

       "Today the first step in the process has been taken thanks to the talent of my dear friend and former lover, Dr. Damian Pincherton, an extremely gifted surgeon, who is often motivated by his love for causing pain. I'll bet that would have had you dripping before your little operation, but I detect a little fear in your reaction to what I just did to your little nipple. You had better get used to pain because you will be getting it in large doses and quite often as well. To be candid I've always been jealous of those fat bags of flesh dangling from your chest. Now I'll have a chance to vent my anger on them, and you'll soon learn that pain is not something you want to encounter."

       "By the way you should know that your long hair is now a thing of the past. Operations involving the brain usually require the removal of the patient's hair. I was allowed to witness the entire procedure and it did make me wet when the drill was used to bore a hole in your skull so the surgeon could get at the area that needed attention. Normally after such an operation you would remain sedated for many days, but in your case the sooner you learned about unadorned pain, the better for all concerned. Enjoy your recuperation, Dr. Pincherton will be visiting you quite soon and you should expect a great deal of pain and suffering. Consider it as merely a down payment for his services. There are many more operations in your future and most will be done with you conscious and free from anesthetics that would deprive you of experiencing the reality of pain."

       Her fond farewell included her fingers burrowing into my dry cunt, twisting and turning to provide the maximum stimulation. Despite my depression and fear, when she withdrew those digits and pressed them to my sore, cracked lips, they were wet with my pussy juice. I thanked the gods for their mercy just before she cruelly pinched and stretched the flesh surrounding my capped clit, a reminder of my near impotence. I didn't even hear her leave, as I was so focused on my own body and the way it was responding to things these days. My attention was now diverted to preparing myself for Dr. Pincherton's visit, which I knew would not be pleasant.

       He arrived a few eternities later and proved to be exactly as advertised by my former physician and confidant. The pokes and prods he delivered seemed to be to evaluate my pain threshold and levels. My responses were new to me and even I had no idea where the new levels were. When he palpitated my big tits with their hard nipples he snorted and spoke a few nasty words hinting strongly that more brain surgery might be in order to tame my sexual appetites to a more benign level. It was as if only my body was here, my mind having departed for another dimension.

       When those long surgeon's fingers began tweaking my stiff nipples I could feel my cunt getting wet despite my dire situation. My cunt began oozing when he started to massage my big tits. I felt a reaction beginning down deep inside my throbbing twat. He laughed, an icy warning that all was not well for me. Those strong hands began squeezing my tits, first one, and then the other. My boiler was getting mad hot and only a few degrees below what was needed to get me off with a vengeance. Alas, he was synchronized with my reactions and knew just what to do to defeat my objective. He slapped my tits hard, one two, one two, one two, each time the blows were harder. At first they were just stings and now it was as if a tree limb was beating them to a pulp.

       The pain was growing and growing and there was nothing I could do to prevent him from continuing. Suddenly with a vicious blow of his fist to the region between my big battered tits the beating stopped, but not the pain. Worse still the blow had somehow paralyzed my chest muscles preventing me from breathing. I was in a panic and that only made things worse. He was laughing and yanking my nipples to their limits as he watched me dying from the terrible blow to my chest. My struggles lessened as my lust for air increased, only putting more of a strain on my heart and weakening my physical strength. Then it got dark and there was nothingness.

       I awoke with an oxygen mask on my face and low voices discussing my condition. I recognized both doctors and realized my death had been postponed for at least a few more hours. Some movements to check on the general condition of my body led to the discovery that my body was still fettered and my eyes still were not operating. It was the voice of the surgeon that got my attention. He was arguing that more minor surgery was in order based on what he had already seen from my reactions. They batted some "doctor speak" back and forth for a time before finally agreeing that the connective tissue connecting my breasts to my pectoral muscles should be severed and my clit be uncapped in order that it be made much more sensitive. Once this was accomplished my education could go forward at full speed. What all that meant was overwhelmed by the words "uncap my clit and increase its sensitivity". I was in ecstasy; oh boy, oh joy!

       To celebrate this decision my two doctors took different paths. Unable to see, all I could do was hear, smell and feel. My ears picked up the sound of clothing being removed, interrupted by moans and groans and what sounded like kisses, lengthy ones at that. Suddenly my bed had a second occupant and it was Lois Marquad-Snyder who joined me, still sporting a massive patch of thick, springy, pubic hair that was being planted onto my face. I inhaled her scent to gauge just how horny she was and my meter went off scale. Wasting no time, my tongue wiggled into her juicing fuck box and began mining the treasures it uncovered. My own pussy was doing its best to match the output of my former wannabe lover. Lois was at an advantage, having my agile tongue and expertise when it came to girl-girl couplings working for her benefit.

       I was so busy feeding off Dr. Marquad-Snyder's intense desire for an orgasm that Dr. Pincherton had fallen off my radar. Suddenly there was this enormous blip at the center of the screen demanding my attention. The surgeon had arrived bearing pain and punishment that under normal times would have been welcomed with no questions asked. That was then this was now; the climate had changed dramatically. Without warning my burgeoning swamp turned into an arid desert, compliments of the good surgeon who had sprayed something into my cunt that brought back very recent, unpleasant memories. My ears pricked up at his almost maniacal laughter. Being warned did nothing to help me become prepared. To add to the misery coefficient, Lois clamped my head between her rather strong thighs, imprisoning me further.

       Dr. Pincherton wasted no time swooping down on my poor pussy like a bird of prey. In his case, what he used in lieu of talons was his gloved fist coated with some noxious, slimy, material. Initially all I felt was pressure, lots of pressure. It felt like my cunt was getting wider by the minute, but still no pain, just pressure. Suddenly there was a lancing pain like something red-hot had pierced my precious pussy. It brought back memories of the nasty guy who used a cattle prod on my cunt to loosen me up for a double penetration. Afterward what happened was positively blissful, but I always remembered the white-hot poker feeling that his little "buddy" caused previous to the great sex. This pain however was constant and growing. I was hurting, hurting in a very bad way. My whole body began to shake from the unending pain. I forgot all about the pussy suffocating me, which was a very bad mistake.

       My tolerance for pain was near zero without the aid of the sex that always accompanied it up until my operation. Now I was disgustingly normal and an easy victim for the denizens that resided in this prison disguised as a hospital. The pain the good surgeon was providing was unbearable, yet I had to bear it. By now there could be no question that a portion of my pussy was being burned to the ground and perhaps even beneath it. My focus was disturbed by the numerous punches Lois was delivering to my face. Fortunately my face became numb rather quickly and then there was only pressure and an occasion jolt of pain that lanced across my twisted face and even made little lightning bolts go off in my retinas. The fact that my retinas were functioning consoled me somewhat. I nearly passed out from the pain as the forest fire approached my cervix and then began torching it as well. I tried swallowing my tongue but was unable, so I did the next best thing and vomited, a very bad idea. Now I was strangling in my own vomit and very frightened by the process. Perhaps my less than enthusiastic response to the terrible things they were doing to me finally got their collective attention. Whatever, it was welcomed for the brief time that I remained conscious. What lay beyond was not an issue at this point.

                       (To be continued - lex ludite)