Chapter 17: The surgeon
The gynecological stirrups were cold against Sarah’s thighs, the stainless steel biting into her skin as Chloe tightened the leather restraints. “Dr.St. Clair needs your baseline measurements,” Chloe murmured, her breath a warm, unwelcome contrast to the room’s chill. Emily stood beside a tray of polished metal dilators, her fingers trembling as she selected the first, a slender rod that glinted under the harsh lights. “I’m sorry,” Emily whispered, but her apology was swallowed by the sound of Sarah’s panicked breathing. The ice-cold tip pressed against Sarah’s tender, freshly lasered entrance, and her whole body seized.
“Just relax, sweetheart,” Chloe coaxed, her hand firm on Sarah’s stomach as Emily pushed the metal inside with a slow, inexorable pressure. The stretch was a bright, shocking agony, a violation deeper than anything before. Sarah’s back arched off the table, a strangled scream tearing from her throat. “There you go,” Chloe purred, her eyes gleaming. “Scream for the doctor.” Emily twisted the dilator, the ridges catching on Sarah’s raw inner walls, and a new wave of pain brought fresh tears. “You’re doing so well,” Emily lied, her voice shaky as she swapped the first dilator for a thicker one. This one burned, a brutal, spreading fullness that made Sarah’s vision swim. “Tomorrow, she’ll sculpt this cunt into something prettie. Sarah whimpered, the sound pathetic even to her own ears. Chloe leaned close, her lips brushing Sarah’s ear. “And I get the porcelain veneers on my pelvis, so I’ll always be the perfect, unmarked canvas.” She nodded to Emily, who pulled the dilator out with a slick, painful scrape. “My procedure’s first, so I’ll be right there holding your hand while she opens you up.” The door hissed open, and Maya entered, silhouetted against the brighter hallway. “Enough play,” she stated. “Wheel her to the theater. It’s time.”
The cold stirrups released their bite with a hydraulic hiss, and Sarah’s legs fell limp to the steel table. Chloe and Emily moved with a detached efficiency, their earlier hesitance burned away by Maya’s presence. They unstrapped her wrists, the leather leaving angry red lines on her skin, and hauled her upright. Her raw cunt throbbed with a deep, aching emptiness as they guided her stumbling feet to the floor.
“Easy now,” Chloe whispered, her grip firm under Sarah’s arm, but her tone held no comfort. The hallway beyond the door was blindingly white and silent, smelling of sterilizing solution and ozone. Their footsteps echoed on the polished concrete as they half-walked, half-dragged her toward a set of double doors marked ‘Theater Three’. Sarah’s mind fogged, her vision tunneling on the hazard stripes on the door.
Maya pushed through without a sound, holding the door open. The operating room was a cavern of shadow and sharp, focused light. The central table sat beneath a constellation of surgical lamps, its outlines blurred by Sarah’s tears. Emily’s breath hitched beside her, a tiny, frightened sound.
“Get her on the table,” Maya instructed, already moving to a tray of instruments. Chloe boosted Sarah onto the cold, padded vinyl, and her bare skin stuck to it. They secured her ankles back into wider, higher stirrups, spreading her helplessly open to the bright, clinical glare. The ceiling above was a mirrored panel, and Sarah watched her own reflection—a pale, broken thing splayed like a specimen.
Maya approached, now gowned in deep green surgical cloth, her hands sheathed in latex. She held a large, black silicone vibrator, its surface dull under the lights. “Final calibration,” she stated, her eyes on Sarah’s exposed cunt. She didn’t lubricate it. She pushed the broad, unforgiving tip against Sarah’s tender entrance and shoved it inward in one relentless motion.
Sarah’s scream was a raw, scraping thing. The device filled her brutally, stretching the bruised, lasered flesh. Maya twisted it, watching Sarah’s face in the mirror. “You see how tight she is, Chloe? How much she fights the intrusion?” Chloe nodded, mesmerized, her hand drifting to her own stomach. Maya turned the vibrator on.
A deep, invasive buzz tore through Sarah’s core, a violent rattle that seemed to shake her teeth. It wasn’t pleasure; it was a brutal, internal jackhammering that forced another shattered cry from her lungs. Her back arched, muscles straining against the restraints. Maya watched the digital readout on the device’s base, adjusting the frequency with a flick of her thumb. “Good. Neural response is acute. She’ll feel every cut tomorrow.”
She turned the intensity higher. The vibration became a blurred, punishing agony that dissolved Sarah’s thoughts into pure sensation. Her body convulsed, a painful, shuddering climax ripping through her without consent, her cunt clenching viscously around the invading object. Fluids slicked the vinyl beneath her. Maya pulled the vibrator out with a wet, sucking pop and held it up, glistening under the lights. “Baseline recorded.” She dropped it onto a tray with a clinical clatter. “Prep her for sterilization. We begin at dawn.”
Maya straps colo
Maya turned from Sarah’s shuddering form, her surgical gown whispering. “Your turn, Chloe.” Her voice was a low command in the bright silence. Chloe’s eager smile flickered, just for a second, as she approached the second, unoccupied table.
It was colder than she’d imagined, the stainless steel biting into her back. Maya’s hands, still in their latex sheaths, guided her down with impersonal pressure. “Arms out,” Maya instructed, her tone devoid of the warmth Chloe craved.
Chloe obeyed, stretching her limbs toward the sturdy straps anchored to the table’s edges. The heavy leather cuffs felt final, their weight a promise. Maya secured her left wrist first, pulling the strap tight until the buckle clicked with a definitive snap.
She did the same with the right, cinching it firmly above the prominent bone. “Comfortable?” Maya asked, her fingers checking the gap between leather and skin. “It’s perfect,” Chloe breathed, the thrill cutting through a sudden, sharp thread of fear.
Maya moved down, her hands closing around Chloe’s ankle. She lifted it, placing her foot into a wide, padded stirrup attached to the table’s corner. The position opened her relentlessly, a vulnerable, mechanical stretch. The second ankle followed, a mirror image, until Chloe was spread-eagled under the lights.
She tested the restraints, a subtle pull that met absolute, unyielding resistance. “You’re not going anywhere,” Maya stated, observing the futile movement. Her gloved hand slid up the inside of Chloe’s strapped thigh, a clinical touch that raised goosebumps.
The hand stopped at the juncture of her thigh, a thumb brushing cruelly over her clit. “Tomorrow, this gets redesigned,” Maya said, her thumb pressing down hard. A shocked, wet gasp escaped Chloe’s lips, her hips twitching against the straps.
“But tonight, it’s just mine to break in.” Maya’s other hand joined, two fingers sliding into Chloe’s cunt with no preamble. The stretch was immediate, a rough possession. “You wanted this,” Maya murmured, watching her own fingers disappear.
“I did,” Chloe whimpered, her head pushing back against the steel. Maya fucked her with a steady, punishing rhythm, the wet sound obscene in the sterile room. Her thumb continued its ruthless circles, a twin assault that coiled tension in Chloe’s gut.
She was a live wire, bound and sparking. “Please,” Chloe gasped, the word mangled. Maya increased her pace, the heel of her hand slamming against Chloe’s flesh. “Please what?” she demanded, curling her fingers deep.
“Don’t stop.” The confession was ripped from her, filthy and raw. Maya leaned close, her breath hot on Chloe’s ear. “I own this now,” she growled, her thrusts becoming brutal, jackhammer strokes. Chloe’s orgasm detonated, a silent scream tearing her apart as the straps held her utterly still.
xxxxxxmaya sterilize Sarah
Chloe’s spasms subsided into faint, rhythmic tremors against the leather straps. Maya withdrew her glistening hand, the sound obscenely wet in the sudden quiet. “Clean her up, Emily,” she said, turning her back on Chloe’s spent form as she approached Sarah’s table.
Sarah flinched at her shadow. “Please, no more,” she whispered, the words cracking. Maya ignored her, selecting a bottle of brown surgical scrub and a stiff-bristled brush. “This isn’t more, Sarah. This is preparation.”
She poured the cold, iodine-scented liquid directly over Sarah’s pubic mound, the viscous stream startling a gasp from her. Maya scrubbed with the brush in hard, concentric circles, the bristles scraping savagely over the sensitive, lasered skin and the fresh brand. “It has to be sterile,” Maya muttered, as Sarah wept silently, her body jolting with each rough pass.
The brush dug mercilessly into every fold, every crevice, a ruthless, clinical scourging. “Hold her still,” Maya said, and Emily placed trembling hands on Sarah’s hipbones, pinning her to the cold table. Maya spread Sarah wider, scrubbing the inner thighs, then focused the brutal bristles directly on her swollen clit.
Sarah screamed then, a raw, ragged sound, her back bowing off the table. “Stop! It burns!” Maya didn’t pause, scrubbing until the skin shone an angry, burning red and felt utterly numb. She tossed the brush into a steel basin with a clatter.
“Now the canal,” Maya stated, picking up a long, metal speculum. She cranked it open inside Sarah with a series of precise, ratcheting clicks, exposing the vulnerable, pink interior. She took a fresh swab soaked in clear antiseptic and thrust it deep, twisting.
Sarah’s world dissolved into a white-hot core of piercing, internal fire. Maya worked the swab in and out, coating every inch, her expression one of focused, impersonal efficiency. “All clean,” she finally said, withdrawing the speculum and letting it snap shut with a definitive, metallic click.
The metallic click echoed in Sarah’s hollowed-out mind. She lay there, raw and burning, the antiseptic’s cold fire seeping deep into tissues that still clenched around nothing. From the other table, Chloe let out a low, shaky laugh. “Bet that smarts.” Her voice was slurry with endorphins and strain.
Sarah turned her head, the movement causing a fresh wave of nausea. Chloe was still splayed, her skin slick with sweat under the lights, but her eyes were fixed on Maya with a hungry devotion that made Sarah’s stomach twist. “My turn for the scrub?” Chloe asked, a tremor of genuine fear finally touching her words. Maya stripped off her soiled gloves, letting them drop to the floor. “No. Dr. St. Clair prefers to prep her own canvas.” She walked to a sink, the water crashing like a waterfall in the silent room.
“She’ll be here in twenty minutes to mark you.” Maya’s words were casual, but they landed on Chloe’s naked skin like a physical blow. Chloe’s breath hitched, her fingers curling against the restraints. “Oh god.” Sarah watched Chloe’s brave facade finally crack, a single tear tracking through her temple into her hairline. A strange, painful solidarity tightened in Sarah’s chest. “You wanted this,” Sarah whispered across the space between them, throwing Chloe’s own earlier words back at her, her voice a ruined scrape.
Chloe’s eyes snapped to hers, wide and glistening. “I know.” She swallowed hard, the sound audible. “Fuck, I know.” Maya returned, drying her hands on a towel. “Emily. Come here.” Emily, who had been hovering near the instruments like a ghost, jumped. Maya didn’t look at her, instead picking up the black silicone vibrator, still glistening from Sarah’s calibration. “Chloe needs to be relaxed for the marking. Softened up.” She thrust the device into Emily’s hands. “Make her come. Hard. Use your mouth if you have to.”
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Emily stared at the slick, black silicone in her hand, its weight both alien and familiar. Chloe’s breathing hitched, a sharp, desperate sound in the bright silence. "You heard her," Chloe whispered, her eyes fixed on the vibrating object, a blend of terror and hunger dissolving her earlier bravado.
Emily’s knees hit the cold floor beside the table, the impact jarring up her spine. She hesitated, her breath fogging the stainless steel near Chloe’s trembling thigh. "Do it," Chloe pleaded, her voice cracking, and Emily nodded, her own curiosity a sharp, twisting thing inside her.
She pressed the cold, blunt tip of the vibrator against Chloe’s soaked entrance, pushing it in with a slow, relentless pressure that made Chloe arch against her straps. The deep buzz kicked in, and Chloe’s whole body jolted, a choked "fuck" escaping her lips. Emily watched, fascinated, as Chloe’s cunt stretched around the invading shaft, the glossy silicone disappearing into the gripping, pink flesh.
She leaned in, her tongue following the path of the vibrator, licking a broad, wet stripe from Chloe’s stretched opening up to her clit. The taste was salty, musky, utterly unfamiliar. Chloe gasped, her hips stuttering against the restraints. "Oh god, your mouth," she moaned, the words slurred.
Emily took the buzzing base of the vibrator and pressed it hard against Chloe’s clit while her tongue dove back inside, fucking her with short, quick thrusts alongside the machine. The double stimulation made Chloe scream, a raw, unraveling sound that bounced off the tiles. "Don't stop, don't you fucking stop," she chanted, her head thrashing side to side.
The door hissed open.Dr.Lucy St. Clair stood in the threshold, a leather folio under her arm, her grey eyes scanning the scene without a flicker of surprise. Emily froze, her tongue still inside Chloe, the vibrator humming loudly against Chloe’s clit. "Continue," Lucy said, her voice flat as she walked to a tray and began arranging gleaming instruments. "I require her fully aroused for the marking. The vascular engagement is optimal."
Chloe sobbed, her climax visibly tearing through her, a violent pulsing around the toy and Emily’s tongue. Lucy watched dispassionately, pulling on fresh gloves."Good." She waited for the final tremors to subside. "Now remove it and assume the position for consultation. All of you."
Emily scrambled back from Chloe’s trembling body, her chin slick. Sarah stumbled forward from her table, the fresh rings in her nipples pulling with a bright, sickening pain each time the tiny bell chimed. They formed a ragged line, their bare skin prickling in the chilled air.
Lucy unzipped her leather folio, extracting three schematic diagrams. "Sarah, your labiaplasty and internal restructuring will occur at seven a.m." She pointed to dense, clinical cross-sections that meant nothing. "The nerve re-routing is delicate." Sarah flinched, remembering the violent buzz of the calibrator inside her. "Chloe, your ceramic veneer application follows at nine. The bonding agent requires absolute stillness." Chloe’s eyes dropped to her own unmarked pelvis, a muscle twitching in her jaw.
"Emily," Lucy continued, her tone utterly flat. "Your subcutaneous implants and nipple reconstruction are scheduled for noon. The nerve grafts will make the tissue permanently, exquisitely responsive." A thin line of drool escaped Emily’s slack mouth, her gaze fixed on the floor. "Any movement, any sudden spike in blood pressure, risks catastrophic asymmetry." She slid the schematics away. "Maya will administer the pre-operative sedatives now. You will be given a cocktail to induce compliance and a semi-conscious state." Lucy's eyes swept over them. "You should welcome it. The alternative is being fully awake for the incisions."
Maya stepped forward, a loaded syringe glinting in her hand. She moved to Sarah first, gripping her arm. The needle slid into a vein with a sharp, precise sting. A cold, heavy fog began leaching into Sarah’s limbs almost immediately. She swayed, the operating lights bleeding into watery halos. Chloe was next, accepting the injection with a soft, surrendering sigh, her body going pliant against Maya’s supporting grip. Emily simply offered her arm, her breath hitching as the plunger descended.
"The dreams will be vivid," Maya whispered, lowering Emily onto a gurney as the drug took hold. Sarah was already on another, staring at the ceiling tiles as they blurred and swam. Chloe’s gurney wheeled past her, Chloe's head lolling to the side, a blissful, empty smile on her lips.
Chloe’s gurney wheeled past her, Chloe's head lolling to the side, a blissful, empty smile on her lips. The chemical fog in Sarah’s veins felt like warm lead, muting the sharp ache of the fresh metal in her nipples but amplifying the deep, violated throb between her legs. Her own gurney began to move, the ceiling lights smearing into a single blinding streak as she was pushed from the cold theater into a dimmer, warmer room that smelled of leather and antiseptic.
Maya watches.
She stands motionless in the corner, her arms folded, as orderlies transfer Sarah’s limp body from the gurney onto a padded leather table. They strap her ankles into wide cuffs, the restraints cold and familiar, but Sarah only manages a drugged moan. Maya’s eyes are black and unreadable, tracking every detail: the way Sarah’s tagged wrist falls heavily, the delicate chime of the bell between her breasts as she’s positioned.
Emily is laid out on a similar table beside her, already making soft, whimpering sounds as her fingers twitch against the leather. “Can you hear me, Emily?” Maya’s voice cut through the druggy silence, calm and clear. Emily’s head rolled toward the sound, her pupils blown wide, a thread of saliva connecting her lip to the table. “Mmm.” It was a wet, affirmative sigh. Maya’s lips curved, not quite a smile. “Good girl.”
She walked first to Sarah’s table, her fingers tracing the angry red lines where the stirrups had bitten into her thighs earlier. “The sedative is a muscle relaxant and an empathogen,” Maya explained clinically, her nail scraping over Sarah’s inner thigh. “You can’t move, but you’ll feel everything with exquisite, amplified clarity.” Her hand slid higher, cupping Sarah’s violated cunt, the skin still burning from the brutal scrub. Sarah tried to flinch, but her body was a distant, unresponsive weight. A low, terrified sound leaked from her throat.
Maya’s fingers parted her, pushing against the tender, swollen flesh. “You’re so open,” Maya murmured, almost to herself. She pressed two fingers inside, a slow, relentless invasion that burned. Sarah’s breath hitched, a ragged gasp tearing from her chest as the sensation—sharp, bright, and utterly undeniable—flooded her drugged system. “You feel that, don’t you?” Maya crooned, curling her fingers. “Your body knows what it is, even if your mind wants to fight it.”
She began to fuck Sarah with her fingers, a steady, deep rhythm that echoed the earlier calibrator. Each stroke was a violation, each withdrawal a cruel tease. The bell on Sarah’s chest chimed softly with every forced, shuddering breath she took. “Look at you,” Maya said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Your body is accepting it. You’re getting wet for me, even now.” It was true; a traitorous, slick heat was building beneath the pain, a horrific betrayal her nerves screamed to the fog in her brain.
Maya withdrew her glistening fingers and turned to Emily. “Your turn to watch, Emily. Watch what happens to good girls who follow instructions.” Emily’s bleary eyes struggled to focus, her head tilting with immense effort toward Sarah’s splayed form. Maya stepped back to Sarah’s table, unbuckling her own belt with a quiet click. She freed the heavy, curved weight of a steel cock harness from her trousers, its surface polished and cold in the low light.
She did not use lubrication. She positioned the blunt, flared tip against Sarah’s resisting entrance and pushed forward with one firm, relentless thrust. Sarah’s scream was a silent, open-mouthed burst of air, her back arching weakly against the straps as the impossible fullness split her. Maya watched her face, studying the tears that tracked from the corners of Sarah’s eyes into her hairline. She began to move, setting a slow, grinding pace that emphasized every inch of the invasion.
“This is your purpose now,” Maya breathed, her hips driving forward, the slap of skin against skin a sharp counterpoint to Sarah’s choked sobs. The sound was raw, obscene, and wet. “To be opened. To be used.” Emily whimpered, a high, desperate sound, her own hips giving a feeble, involuntary jerk against her restraints. Maya’s rhythm became harder, faster, each thrust punching a broken gasp from Sarah’s lungs. The metal bell chimed wildly, a frantic, tiny sound lost under Maya’s low, controlled grunts and the slick, brutal noise of the act.