NSFW Author

After the fellatio, Simon called for breakfast and we ate in his living room simply happy to be together.

“A doctor will come to see you in less than an hour. You should get a bathrobe or something to cover up”

“Why master? I am not ashamed of my body. I do not mind if he sees me naked.”

“I understand Susanna, but he is my personal doctor. I told my mother I was feeling ill and needed attention. I have explained to him the situation with you and he agreed to keep everything confidential but he things I am merely holding you until the police can intervene. If you are naked, he might think I am the one who hurt you.”

“Is the police coming ?”

“No, sadly. My father has too many connections and my mother still officially owns you. We don’t know how things would develop and need to wait for tension to cool down. As this moment, my mother thinks you have escaped and running free. If the police comes, she will realize something is wrong and one night, she will tear down my door and kill you.”

I was afraid I would simply get freed because of the abuse I received. Sure, mistress deserves to go to jail, but I had barely met Simon. I didn’t want to lose him right away.

“Oh. I understand. I am perfectly happy in your care Master. When the doctor is here, I will pretend nothing is happening between us.”

Simon looked at me and I think he realized for the first time that he truly owned me. I could see confusion and fear in his eyes however instead of bliss and happiness.

It would be my task to set his emotions straight and make him accept my servitude.

I found some ill-fitting clothes in Simon’s things which somehow gave the illusion they were mine. I still didn’t have a bra but a doctor wouldn’t get the impression I was too badly dressed even if my mother would have disagreed.

I waited patiently in Simon’s office as ordered, under his desk and covered with a blanket. The light and the door were closed but I wasn’t afraid. I knew this was to prevent Simon’s mother from seeing me in case she entered the suite.

Eventually, I heard people talking and realized that Jeff was in the living room but couldn’t make out the words.

I remained motionless and jumped out of fear when the light to the office was turned on.

“You can come out Susanna”, announced Simon, while he presented me to Doctor Gravel, an older slightly obese man in his early sixties with a salt and pepper short hair. Surprisingly, he wasn’t balding at all.

The doctor asked Simon to leave us alone for his examination and asked me to undress. Ha, I thought. I could have saved him the time if Simon had listened to me…

He first looked at my bruises and cuts but appeared satisfied that they were healing properly. He gave me a anti-biotic cream to apply until the bruises were healed or the tube was empty.

“Let’s look at those stiches…”

He made me sit on the desk with my legs spread opened. I got sexual flashbacks of previous encounters but knew this was purely professional.

“We have a serious problem. This is a polyester nanotube. When new, they are hollow and filled with a neutral gas. When they are cut, the gas escapes and within hours, lets the internal of the tube dry out making them impossible to cut. Well, not completely, we could use a blow torch but we’d burn your skin.”

“So it cannot be removed ?”

“We could do an operation to gently cut the skin around each of the stiches, but there are dozens and dozens of stiches. We would need an operation room. I couldn’t simply do it here. In fact, a surgeon would properly have hours of work to ensure that afterwards, it’s possible to heal you. I am not even sure you wouldn’t need reconstructive surgery.”

“Then leave them. I don’t mind”

“Oh yes, you will mind. You are still partially dehydrated from your experience and eventually will need to empty your bladder. Instead of urine easily flowing out, it will fill your vagina and only very gently drip in the few places where the skin isn’t very tight. Plus, you’ll need to stay on Prevar injections until these are removed because otherwise your periods are going to be a major issue ”

“I still have over 18 months of Prevar left, at least until my slavery contract is completed. Is there anything you can do with the urine ?”

The doctor looked at the stiches more closely.

“Here, right there the nanotubes are a little loose. I could cut lightly the skin to free one of the stiches which would allow to place a plastic tube to allow for urine expulsion, acting in a way like a catheter. I would slide the catheter under the nanotube to hold it in place. It would be tricky to pee, but it would be relatively safe.”

“If that’s what you think Doctor.”

“I still think you should call the police. Once you are under their custody, I could find an expert to completely remove the stitches”

“Doctor, if I lose my case and Simon’s mother is acquitted, I will end up back under her care. This way, I can sit the remainder of my contract under the good care of Simon. Then, I’ll find a specialist”

“Ok. Let me get a scalpel and a piece of plastic tube”.

Over the next few minutes, the doctor applied a local anaesthesia and gently cut a piece of my labia to have enough room to painfully insert the catheter.

He successfully managed to partially insert the catheter inside the urethrae , but made sure not to pull it completely all of the way to let my muscles prevent an involuntarily discharge.

Once the tube was secured in place, he cut the excess close enough to be virtually un-noticeable. He did have a hard time wrapping the nanotube filament over it to tie it, but once done it dig partially into the tube to hold it in place as if it was cemented there.

Soon enough, it was back to nudity in company of my new master, Simon. We laid on the bed and cuddled while my recently cut labia was healing.

We stayed in bed for a few hours, simply silent.

I could feel that he was lost in his thoughts, but I was simply happy to be there. To be owned. To be used. With Simon’s father, I had became a simple mistress to a bored husband.

With his son, I could perhaps become what I had hoped to become when I became a class S slave: A sexual object to be abused.

Sure, I never though I would lose access to my vagina, but oddly enough, it made me even more submissive because I had lost the one thing that really made me a girl.

Now, I was a tool to provide pleasure, not to receive it. I could still perform a fellatio any time my master wanted it. He could sodomize me every day, but receiving anal sex didn’t provide me with the satisfaction a normal penetration offered.

Without realizing it, Simon’s mother had terminated what the Atkinson academy had started: my path toward becoming a self-less totally submissive slave.