by Mike McGifford

Copyright© 2019 by Mike McGifford

Science Fiction Story: This serial was created with the Talia story and it contains the important premise. Instead of adding chapters, I'm adding stand alone stories to a series. Each character has their own personality and story, with each being tied together by the WCG.

Tags: Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Slavery   Fiction   Science Fiction   Humiliation  

Rebecca only knew that she’d been sold. She had no idea who had purchased her or what they had in mind. She had her suspicions of course. If it was her company, the one she’d embezzled, her life would hardly be worth living anymore. If it were a man, she could expect to be debased and used, unable to claim rape or assault. If it were a woman who had paid for her, she may as well slit her wrists with the sharp edge of a piece of paper now. Rebecca knew how women could be.

Once off the podium, Rebecca tried to remain outwardly calm, while her mind was racing. The idea of escape once again battled with the knowledge that there was nowhere to escape TO, much less any way for her to remove the GPS armband, handcuffs or leg irons she wore. Even if by some miracle her restraints fell off her, she would be a branded slave with nowhere to hide.

So Rebecca pretended to be resigned to her fate. The auction itself had been horrible to endure. Almost as bad as the branding, even if that horrendous ordeal had been over quickly.

Being on a pedestal, on display for creepy men and women who looked at her as if she was mere meat, unconcerned for her privacy and interested only in how they could request the handler to humiliate her more for their enjoyment made her feel as worthless as the homeless she used to despise. Now she was even lower on the social scale than any one of them and she longed, once again, to merely be homeless and not terminal.

She had stoically stayed silent as the handler had spread her nether lips to show the audience the pinkness of her womanhood and the size of her clitoris, not even aware at the time, that a television screen was showing the live audience and registered viewers a closeup if her most intimate body parts.

The only thing more dehumanizing was the pain she was made to endure when the handler lifted her to her toes by pulling upward on her nipples. How dare those nipples have betrayed her! Why were they hard? The room was cool, but she’d spent weeks in cool cells without enduring hard nipples poking out at the guards. This DIDN’T turn her on yet the handler had grinned and reported to the audience that she must be aroused!

Rebecca didn’t have big, fleshy nipples. If they hadn’t been hard, the handler would have pinched her areolas between his fingers and thumbs and not just her actual nipples. Her breasts weighed in at more than a kilo between them. How did she know that useless and humiliating fact? She had endured a full physical examination, sobbing pitifully as they were weighed and measured for the auction.

At least that debasing examination and appraisal had prepared her somewhat for the tortures of the actual auction. She could have told them she was a ‘D’ cup and she could have told them she was 38-23-37 if they had merely asked her but noooo, they had their jobs and one of those jobs was certainly to reinforce her status as an animal.

But she refused to be broken no matter what those fancy ‘technicians’ who drew blood and spread her open to insert tools and measuring devices into her most private of places, did to her.

The techs even ran a scanner over her skin, highlighting her tan lines and measuring the pigment differences between the parts of her that were normally exposed to the sun and normally covered by her swimsuit. One of them caught the attention of another, working on a male next to her, to discuss the likely brand of bikini she previously owned.

They’d had a good laugh at her expense when the other tech had pointed out that she must occasionally have gone topless due to the difference in tan on her breasts and crotch.

It was only made worse by the fact that the slave next to her had become erect, hearing them talk. She couldn’t decide whether to laugh at his 5 inch erection or cry again at the debasing nature of the tech’s casual conversation about her skin.

She would have complained bitterly except that her mouth was plugged, she having already endured the dental examination. She really had no tears left at that point but she could still sob into her gag. Five years earlier, she herself had voted to ratify the slave class. Now karma was kicking her ass...

Rebecca sat naked in a special chair, in front of a line of other mixed-gender slaves and workers - without even the benefit of a screen to protect her modesty, as the tech’s finally got back to their jobs.

Her wrists had been strapped, her ankles too. Even her knees were strapped so that she could not close her thighs. Rebecca closed her eyes to shut out the knowledge that she was being inspected by more than just the techs.

She did not appreciate that most of the other slaves in the large room were in a state of psychological breakdown themselves and didn’t care that she too was naked before their eyes. In Rebecca’s mind, they were all staring at her with interest and not fully preoccupied with their own upcoming examinations.

Once the scanner was put away, a simple button press moved the chair she was in. She believed she was going to be dumped from its confines when it stretched out and rotated 90 degrees, effectively laying her down and rolling her to her side. A cutout in the chair retracted and now her bottom was displayed to everyone as well.

She thought she’d been vulnerable before but this was worse! With gloved hands, her buttocks were separated and she felt the air conditioned breeze on her nether pucker yet that wasn’t as bad as what she was forced to endure next. They gave her an enema! It was horrifying, having a lubricated nozzle pushed into her by a stranger, in front of everyone. It wasn’t even a female technician!

Rebecca was advised to hold the enema and she had thoughts of refusing, but couldn’t bring herself to rebel against this latest humiliation. Expelling the enema in sight of probably fifty onlookers was simply not possible for her anyway, despite the immediate cramping.

After what seemed like an hour but was only actually a minute, a new nozzle was installed to suck out whatever had been in her. Once this nozzle was removed, a plug was installed in its place. Rebecca screamed into her gag when that was done and no amount of pushing by her, could dislodge it.

The plug, Rebecca quickly learned, was there to stay except for twice daily when it would be removed for bathroom visits, conducted on open toilets lining one wall, not even segregated from males. Frequently she’d be seated within almost arm’s reach (if she hadn’t been cuffed) of a male being forced to endure the same treatment.

Finally, her worst fears were realized. The last part of her physical, where her vagina was inspected, measured and tested with implements that held her open and tools and fingers probed her mercilessly. Then, as though she had not endured enough, her hair was removed. Not just her pubic hair either, but all the hair on her body.

She imagined what a jewess might have felt at the hands of the Nazis, even though these technicians were actually many times more gentle than those criminal tormentors of old were with the Jews as they stripped her scalp, eyebrows, underarms and groin of all traces of hair before they slathered hair removal gel on her arms and legs.

Rebecca found more tears. Her voluptuous hair was not even allowed to float to the ground as they hacked it off. Instead, it was sucked directly into a hose where it would be analysed, categorized and eventually packaged for sale. Head hair, eyebrow hair, even pubic hair, had saleable uses.

As they installed the final debasing device to Rebecca, the tech doing the honors explained why.

“This is for your safety,” he said with a smile that was more like a smirk. The device was basically a mesh screen, made of stainless steel in the shape of a flat diamond.

“We use these over your cunt so that no one rapes you while you’re being held here. You can piss right through the screen but you couldn’t get to your clit even if we freed your hands. Now this is going to pinch a little,” he said before showing her a tool that looked something like a leather punch.

Rebecca wished he hadn’t used that disgusting word but moreso wished he hadn’t shown her. She’d heard tales about these devices and she knew what he was going to do. She’d had her ears pierced as a teen and had thought nothing of it but this ... this was going to pierce her labia so that grommets would hold small locks that in turn held the device in place. She began to shake in fear.

The tech saw her tremors and horrified expression, purposely misread it and assured her that it wasn’t a permanent chastity device.

“It’ll come out for the auction, you stupid cunt! It’s got to be used for the next bitch though here. It’s probably covered a hundred cunts just like yours since theymade it,” he said then looked around before whispering quietly, “Nod if you want me to hook you up before I close you up, but you’ll owe me a bj tonight if I do.”

At first Rebecca didn’t know what he meant, then it clicked. After the ordeal she’d already been subjected to, he thought that she might be open to him touching her for her pleasure. As if!

Rebecca’s emotions moved from humiliated, degraded self pity to outrage in an instant. If she hadn’t been gagged, she would have cussed him out! She wanted to scream at him that she had never and would never provide oral sex to anyone and she wasn’t in the least interested in having his hands on her a moment longer than legally necessary.

She WANTED to cry out to her long-ago passed mother for help or to an administrator to have this pervert arrested but she knew neither would help her now. All she could do was narrow her eyes and glare at him to convey her disgust and then shake her head, no, forcefully.

The tech shrugged and set to work, positioning the device between her widely spread and bound thighs. Rebecca knew without a doubt that when he punched through her labia, he pulled at the same time in order to make the first hole as painful as possible.

When he looked up into her tearfilled eyes once the second hole was made, as if giving her a chance to change her mind before it’d be too late, she very nearly caved, just so that he’d be more gentle again.

The slave next to her, this time a middle aged woman who looked like she’d been homeless forever before entering this dungeon, reinforced her will. The woman’s eyes were glazed and the tech working on her was squeezing something between her legs. NO! She’d not subject herself to the debasement this woman was!

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