Tria took her usual place standing next to her owner, who did not invite her to sit as he would have if they had been alone. She stood proud and straight, her back stiff, breasts thrust forward prominently, not that they needed a lot of help to be prominent, especially not now after the months of good food he filled her belly with on a daily basis.
“Is she worth what you paid for her?”
“So far, yes. Even more so if she gets caught here, eventually.”
“That’s why you brought me out here into the middle of nowhere?”
Sir smiled. It was something he did so rarely that the sight of his teeth – so unusually bright and white – made her stare for a moment. “Yep. I want you to conduct a baseline examination of her. It’s been more than six months of trying - ”
“Which I’m sure you’ve been suffering through the entire time,” came the sarcastic comment.
“Oh yeah.”
“No signs of pregnancy, though? Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
The older man sighed. “Well, let’s get to it. I’d like to see if I can make the return trip before dark.”
Sir chuckled. “You’re such a tenderfoot. I had hopes you’d stay to supper, maybe vacation here for a few days?”
His friend snorted. “Not likely. Now, if you’d like to come into town, I’d be glad to show you a great time. But living like Daniel Boone here isn’t my bag.”
Tria found herself being tugged into his bedroom. It was the first time she’d seen him close the door, and that made her worry about what exactly was going to be done to her by this strange man. She’d been to doctors before – her Principal had made sure that she got her shots regularly and got a check up at least once a year. But that was it.
Somehow, she didn’t think she’d be getting off that easy with this man.
Sir stood her in the middle of the room and took his place directly behind her, slipping a leg between her legs and forcing her to spread them as the other man opened a big black bag and donned a beige rubber glove on one hand with a startling snap. Sir pressed his mouth against her ear and whispered harshly, “It would be in your best interests to behave perfectly.”
Out loud, he said, “Reach behind you and put your hands on me.”
Tria did as she was told, and laid her hands on his sides, which forced her to arch her back and present her breasts almost obscenely as the older man approached.
She thought she’d been inspected on the block at the Circus, but she was wrong. He ran his fingers over her scalp, through to the ends of her hair. He looked in both ears, commenting that there was quite a bit of wax in there. He felt her glands at her throat, pulled her eyelids up and down, pressed on her cheekbones, and made her open her mouth and say “ahhhhhh.”, and looked up her nose.
He felt her collarbones, and all the way down each arm, detailing every inch of her skin minutely, and checking every mole and café au lait spot, and bending each joint, then looking closely at the condition of her nails, which Sir required that she keep neatly trimmed.
Tria stood still when his attention turned to her breasts, and he hefted each of them, then conducted a through exam, poking and prodding and feeling and manipulating every inch of them, including her nipples, which, to her shame, peaked and hardened as he pinched them, hard. But this only made him chuckle and pat her on the cheek. “How cute! You’ve found a pain slut. I bet you never let her out of bed. I’m amazed she’d not pregnant yet.”
“Not for lack of trying, let me tell you.”
“How many times a week do you fuck her?” the man asked, writing down measurements and notes about her breasts on some chart, then moving down to her slightly rounded stomach and pressing and pushing there.
Sir snorted. “A week? How about a day? Sometimes up to four or five times a day.”
His friend eyed him carefully. “And you’re home enough to do that regularly?” he asked doubtfully.
Thomas tried not to look sheepish, but couldn’t pull it off. “Well . . . yes.”
The inspection stopped cold. “You’re home? You’ve grounded yourself? For her?”
Tria had never heard her owner so diffident. “Well, no, not really for her . . . ”
“I’m amazed.”
Gone was the hesitation in his voice. “I want a son.”
The older man turned back to her, measuring the span of her hips and muttering, “Well, I hope for her sake that she gives you one.”
He didn’t stop at her stomach, using his gloved hand to literally feel up her pouting lips, and delving between lets that Sir required she spread even further as she leaned back against him, bringing out a middle finger that was dripping wet.
Her legs got the same treatment, and then she was laid back on the edge of the bed and given almost the same examination –until he got to her privates, where he donned a second glove. Sir crawled onto the bed behind her and lent a hand, pulling her back to his front and reaching down to grab her behind the knees, which he proceeded to pull so far back they almost met her ears.
The doctor reached into his bag and pulled out a small penlight, and stared down at her, running his fingers over her pubic mound and pressing, making Tria cry out. “Does that hurt?” he asked in a concerned voice, poking and prodding even more in that area.
“Uh – um - ” Tria didn’t want to say the wrong thing. She wasn’t even sure she should be answering him.
“Tell him.”
“Yes, Sir. It doesn’t hurt . . . I just . . . - ”
The doctor finished her sentence for her. “You have to pee.”
Tria nodded vehemently.
Thomas sighed audibly. “You’re just going to have to wait.”
“Yes, Sir.” She hadn’t expected anything different.
The doctor continued examining her, prying apart her lips and running his rubbery fingers over every inch of her, noting a mole here and a bump there, and commenting repeatedly about how wet she was throughout the whole thing as he nearly put his entire hand up inside her while rummaging about with his fingers while he was in there, as if he was trying to remodel in there.
When he leaned back, she thought it was going to be over, but instead he pressed something that was relatively small against her bottom hole, and popped it into her, following it in with most of his finger so that it was seated well up inside her. There was no flange to hold it in, but she could feel something dangling from it outside her body.
Then he pressed something big into her kitty that kept her wide open and completely full, and it was so big that she wasn’t sure it would ever come back out again. The last thing he produced was something small and pliant, that he fit over the bump at the top of her pubic area that was already primed and waiting for such attention.
But then he moved away again, and she was left somewhat bereft – and very wanting, lying there all spread apart by the solid wall of man behind her, held open for all of these invasions of her person. She wasn’t at all prepared for what he came next.
He flipped three switches all at once, making Tria convulse at first, just trying to deal with all of the stimulation she was receiving at once. The bullet he’d put in her bottom was vibrating violently, dancing within her and bumping up against the vibrations from the monstrosity in her pussy as it pulsated in and out of her all on its own.
And whatever he’d put on her clit – it was devouring her whole. She was being blown apart from the inside, and the only human contact was behind her, holding her in place for it all, not letting her shaking legs come together as they wanted to all on their own, but instead prying them even further apart, until he lifted her bottom off the edge of the bed and gave the doc a bird’s eye view of her pubic area as it convulsed and she hollered bloody murder while her obscenely distorted body contracted around its invaders and she danced to the tune he called with those tiny white controls.
“Is one enough?” he asked, his eyes locking with Thomas, who shook his head “no”.
And so it went
, all afternoon. She was brought to pleasure so many times she lost count, although there was no physical contact what so ever between her and the man who was providing her with that ecstasy. They were smart about it, though, giving her respite sometimes for whole minutes between one assault and the next. And the doctor was very careful to be as scientific as possible about it, recording everything he could and commenting in amazement on just how orgasmic she was, especially when the only probe he left in was the anal one.
Finally, as he removed all of the probes and took off his glasses, he said, “Well, as usual you fell into a bucket of shit and came out smelling like fucking roses.” He went into the bathroom and washed his hands, then came out while still drying them on a towel. “I know you bought her for her breeding potential, but she’s certainly right up your alley as far as your tastes run, isn’t she? You got a bonus there, buddy. You’re damned lucky. She could just as easily have been frigid as a turnip, like the majority of the females I see.”
He piled his wares back into his bag and reached down to help Tria up, kissing the hand that he held before smiling at her and dropping it before Thomas could get too jealous.
Despite what he’d done to her, Tria liked him, somehow. And she didn’t think she’d ever liked any male. She knew for certain that she didn’t like her owner one iota – not that it mattered. Her body liked him plenty, unfortunately. It was always and forever betraying her.
She saw the doctor with a casual regularity after that. Apparently he hadn’t found any glaring reasons why she shouldn’t be able to have a baby, although none appeared to be forthcoming, despite Sir’s continuing, valiant efforts on that behalf. He still continued to test her at least once a week, even after his friend had a talk with him about ovulation happening only once a month.
They didn’t generally receive a lot of visitors – the doc was the only person outside the four of them that Tria saw with any regularity. He’d taken her into town on a few rare occasions, but in general, she was nearly as cloistered now as she had been in her Principal’s care.
And it wasn’t until one cool, dark night when there came a knock at the door that she began to realize just how good she had it, despite the severity of the punishments.
Sir and Rook both went to see who was there, both taking up defensive stances by the door. “Who is it?” Sir hollered. Lima took Tria in her arms and kept her in the center of the room, away from the windows.
“It’s Bud. Open up, man. I’m freezing my balls off out here.”
“Bud? Bud Tracer?” The door was thrown open and a huge, sweaty, hairy man blew into the house, with a dirty, bedraggled woman dressed in rags cowered along behind him.
Tria was nude, as always, but she felt better about being naked than the other woman obviously did wearing tattered clothes that covered her from neck to foot. She wasn’t an old woman – probably not a lot older than she was. It was just in the way she carried herself, schlepping around from one place to the other.
And the fact that her owner never addressed her in a voice any lower than a yell probably didn’t help. She cowered like a mouse all the time, as if she was constantly trying to stay out of his line of vision, and thus out of his out of his notice and the reach of his fists.
She watched them as covertly as possible, and come to the belief that she had it extremely easy, in a lot of ways. She got spanked. She got caned. She had had more things put up inside her than she could even remember. But he had never once – and had already promised he wouldn’t and she believed him completely – taken his fists to her.
The poor soul standing across from her was sporting a very obvious black eye. “Get over here, you!” came the careless order. She immediately moved onto all fours in front of the chair he had chosen, so that he could prop his feet up on her back.
Sir raised his arm – just that, nothing more, nothing less – and Tria walked slowly and gracefully over to his side, where she turned and stood as his hand settled onto her bottom in an intimate caress.
The stranger looked her up and down while Tria stared straight ahead. “So this is the one you paid so much for.” Sir nodded quietly. “Is she knocked up yet?”
“Not yet.”
He guffawed oafishly. “I’m not surprised. You always did pamper your women, even after the Great Plague. Pamperin’s the last thing they need. Females need to be taught their place and kept in it.”
Tria could feel Sir stiffen at that remark. “Tria knows exactly where she belongs and what I expect of her. She doesn’t need to know anything more than that.”
Bud eyed first the female, then his friend. “How much do you want for her?”
Tria began to shake beneath his hand, but was Sir’s turn to guffaw. “How much are you offering that you don’t have?”
The older man cackled. “You know me too well, Thomas. But seriously. What would you take for her?”
“She’s not even a proven breeder, Bud.”
Tria was terrified that he wasn’t immediately dismissing the offer. She did not want to be sold, most particularly to this man.
“Don’t matter. She’d bring a good price – not that you need the money.”
Sir leaned further back in his chair, trailing his fingers down her crack. “And you’d take your usual forty percent, I take it?”
“Of course. A man’s got to make a living.”
“Of course,” Sir agreed mildly. “Well, it’s a tempting offer, Bud, but she’d not for sale.” He could feel Tria heave a huge sigh of relief. “I intend to keep her at least until I’ve gotten a son or two off of her.”
“Why, that could be decades from now! You’ll be bored of her by then, mark my words.”
Sir patted Tria’s bottom possessively. “Oh, I doubt that.”
Lima served refreshments, and although she didn’t say a thing she let her disapproval of their visitor be quite felt. Sir gave Tria a few of the last bites of his cookies, earning a tsk from his friend. “Much too soft, I tell you. Much too soft.”
Meanwhile, his female had snuck a cookie off his own plate, which he had placed on the floor, but she wasn’t surreptitious enough not to get caught doing it. When he’d discovered what she’d done, he hauled her up and over his lap by her hair, giving Sir an apologetic glance. “Sorry, but you understand. Must correct them when they misbehave. Can’t wait until later or she won’t realize what she’s done.”
With that explanation, he threw the poor wretch’s baggy dress up over her back, revealing a bottom that already had several tracks on it from a previous session. He was only using his hand, but he went at her at least as hard as Sir took after Tria. As she watched the spectacle of this poor woman getting her bottom smacked with more vigor than talent, Thomas watched her, then began to insinuate his fingers between her legs, whispering not very quietly for her to spread her legs enough to accommodate him more freely.
Tria gulped and did what was asked, hating the fact that he was going to find her wet again . . . still. For some reason she couldn’t fathom, watching that woman, whom she didn’t know the least thing about, get a licking from her owner that was pretty close to what she got from her own made her whole body contract when his fingers found her.
“That’s it. Isn’t it interesting to see someone else in that position for a change?” He had her so pegged she nearly lost her concentration. And she didn’t at all like that he knew her well enough to figure that out, but it seemed he did. “I’m going to take my belt to you later, you know. And I’m going to leave the door open so that they can hear exactly what I’m doing to you – every bit of it.” His fingers teased her, rubbing repeatedly then ducking away, or merely cupping her for a while as the other woman’s cries of discomfort increased considerably in volume, as did her level of excitement. “And I’m not going to let you enjoy yourself here too much.” He gave her a few more fast strokes, designed to get as much of a rise out her in as short a time as he could, then he withdrew his hand entirely.
And he was just
as good as his word, too. Less than an hour later, he had her singing each time the belt kissed her rump, and she knew that the two in the bedroom just down the hall were getting an earful of what she’d gotten earlier in the evening, although she figured that Bud’s female wasn’t getting anywhere near the amount of enjoyment out of her punishment that Tria had gotten from hers.
Aside from the occasional drop in friend, their lives were very settled, until the point when Doc arrived again and suggested something that he thought might help her conceive, and it involved a big red rubber bag that hung ominously above her head when he ordered her into the bed. The doc was still sitting in one of the chairs in the corner of the room, as if he was supervising the action.
Thomas had never given anyone an enema. It wasn’t that he was against them, particularly, he just wasn’t into them. But Doc seemed quite convinced that keeping her cleaned out would help her conceive. He’d never heard of such a thing, but he did trust his doctor, so he agreed to set up a schedule whereby she was given a high, hot, and helluva lot enema at least once a week.
Of course, Doc had also mentioned how interesting it might be for him to fill her up and make her hold it, or bring her off while she held it, or even follow it himself and make her take the both of them – him and the enema – at the same time.
He positioned her as the Doc had suggested, over several pillows in the middle of the bed. He’d also bound her, just in case she decided to run for some reason or another, which of course would earn her a good licking on top of a full bottom. Thomas filed that idea away for the future. This scenario was yielding all sorts of possibilities. He wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before.
The big red bag was full to the brim with warm, slightly soapy water, and it was connected by a ribbed white tube to a special nozzle that Doc had gifted him with that was also a plug, so that she couldn’t push it out of her even if she wanted to, which, of course, would also get her into trouble.
When he had her secured, with her bottom raised well into the air, he took the nozzle and put a small amount of lube on it, then exposed her little floret with the fingers of one hand while he pressed the plug into it with the other hand until that tight ring of flesh closed around the plug’s thin neck. Just for the fun of it, he tugged it back and pushed it in more, using it to fuck her as much as it would allow without coming out, letting her reluctant moans wash over him.
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