Evaluated and irrigated

Nikki felt her arms stretched up above her head, her body taught. A trainer she didn’t know had strung her up, wrists cuffed, the chain between them held up by a cable that ran across the room. He had adjusted the length of the chain so that she had to get up on the balls of her feet to take the pressure off her shoulder joints. It made her breasts jut out, her back arched.

Now he was pushing her forward, making her take her place at the end of a row of naked slaves. There had to be 25 on line already. She was behind a girl she’d ever seen before. The girl was a little shorter than Nikki, but her chain was a little longer, so she too was stretched “just so” – and Nikki could see that she too was covered in her own partially dried urine. The girl’s hair was matted and stuck up in every direction. She was shivering in the cool air.

The trainer pushed Nikki all the way forward, pushing the girl into the boy in front of her, and getting rid of all the space between them. Nikki’s breasts were pressed into the girl’s upper back, the girl’s ass into Nikki’s upper thighs and crotch. Nikki’s nostrils were filled with the scent of dried urine from the girl’s hair.

Then she felt the trainer’s hands on her again, this time pressing a boy into her back. He wasn’t much taller than her, she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. And she could feel his cock, hard and getting harder as the trainer pressed them together. At least it was warm.

This was clever. They were all in line. Efficiently contained. And incredibly aware of their nakedness, their helplessness. They couldn’t move forward or back because the other slaves were there, and couldn’t move side to side because the chains were too short. They were trapped, yet could easily be moved by the trainers.

In fact, Nikki could sense movement in the chain of slaves. The sound of the chains scraping along the cable. Small slaps as slaves were encouraged to move forward by a smack on the haunches. The line was moving ahead. It was like they were on some kind of strange ski lift or some weird ropes course where they were going to slide across a gorge by their hands, but they were just being moved from the dormitory room someplace else.

Nikki didn’t know where they were going, but she sure hoped that it would involve getting clean and smelling better. They must have waited until every single slave had lost control of his or her bladder. That was probably part of the process, part of the experience they were intended to have. But yuck! It certainly smelled gross.

She could see slightly ahead. There was some kind of doorway, the slaves were being taken through one at a time. She was still 15 or so before the front slave, and they were advancing slowly. A couple of minutes each slave, at a minimum. Nikki was hungry and thirsty, her mouth parched, her stomach felt like a knot. The stench wasn’t helping. And the position wasn’t exactly comfortable.

The boy behind her was getting annoying. He was close. So close, she could feel the hair on his chest rubbing into her back. She could feel his thighs behind hers. Mostly she could feel his cock. He was pushing it against her ass, rubbing, sliding. She could feel that he was oozing precum, and he was trying to get some kind of purchase, trying to find a way to get into her without being able to use his hands. Not easy.

He was pushing, pushing,, pushing. His body building a rhythm. He was getting more and more into it, she could feel it. She could feel her own body responding. Amazing. Even covered in urine, cold, humiliated, and afraid of what would happen next, she was still responding.

What a slut she was. She felt a wave of shame. Her sexuality so raw, so uncontrollable. But then she remembered who and what she was. This was why she was here. A point of pride, not shame. Her sexuality was valuable and prized in this context. She was a slut, yes. A hot, wet, whore. But that wasn’t bad at all. It only enhanced her value.

She relaxed into it. Pushed back into his thrusts. Felt him stretch his arms to their limit so he could get down below her and slide his cock between her thighs. She spread her legs. Felt him sigh as he pushed his cock into the warm crevice between her legs. He hadn’t achieved penetration, but this was good enough for him, it was warm and tight. She closed her legs on him and felt him pushing into her faster now.

The line kept shuffling forward. Only 10 slaves in front now. She moved forward. The boy stayed glued to her, his breath sharp in her ear. He was murmuring, softly.

“Oh, baby. Yes… so hot. You’re so hot.”

And she felt it. Hot and beautiful. It didn’t matter that her eyes were too close together or her chin too pointy. It didn’t matter that her hips were a little too full, her ass too big. It didn’t matter that her skin was marred by these cysts. It didn’t matter that she was covered in piss. None of it mattered compared to her eagerness, her desire, her arousal flowing and responding to his urgency. That was all that mattered.

His cock was sliding over her wet slit. She couldn’t believe that she had enough hydration to flow like this, given how thirsty she was, but she could feel from the way his cock was gliding, frictionless, that she was lubricating him. He was pushing harder and faster now, really going at it.

They moved forward again. Only a couple of people ahead of them now. He must have seen that they didn’t have long, because his intensity increased yet again, the thrusts urgent and hard, his voice grunting in her ear. He was sliding over her labia, his cock hot between her thighs. But not far enough forward to give her any friction on her clit. She was aroused, but not really approaching orgasm.

Nikki rubbed her breasts against the girl in front of her, the hard tips of her nipples sliding back and forth on the girl’s back. The boy was getting really close and Nikki really wanted to go over with him, but she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to. His breath was hard in her ear. Each exhale a little grunt at the end as he pushed his body forward.

He let out a strangled cry, trying not to draw too much attention to himself, and Nikki felt the wet gush of his cum sliding down the inside of her thigh. Hot fluid dripping down, like a caress moving over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. She closed her eyes, willed herself to cum. Felt a small crest of feeling, a relaxation. But she was too uncomfortable, too thirsty, too hungry, too covered in piss to really cum. It just wasn’t enough to get her over the edge. She pushed her hips forward in frustration, trying to hump the girl in front of her. It didn’t work. She breathed into her situation, her lack of control.

But now she had reached almost the front of the line. The trainers were unhooking the boy in front of the girl in front of Nikki. Pushing him forward, into the room ahead. Nikki could see now. There were two trainers behind a desk. They were performing some kind of inpection/interrogation. Touching the slave. And then having him show off his genitals, bend over and spread his ass.

They were putting something into his ass! Ohhh. Nikki could see his face, drawn in concentration or pain as they worked a semi-soft plug into his ass. She could see in his face when they had gotten it all the way in, his sphincter closing around the narrow bit, the flanged bottom spread, holding his cheeks slightly open.

Now they were moving him along to a set of metal frames. The trainers pushed him down, his knees on little pads and his body stretched over the frame, head down almost at the level of the floor. His ass was up and spread open in this position. They locked his head down, secured his wrists and his back. Nikki could see from her position that he was completely immobilized.

It was the girl in front of her’s turn now, she was being unhooked from the cable and moved over to the interrogation table. There was nobody in front of Nikki. Her nakedness was exposed to the trainers and the other slaves, at yet this boy was still pressed up against her. She felt her arms stretched against the end of the cable as the force of all the slaves behind her pressed forward. She used her thigh muscles to press back and hold them in position.

She couldn’t decide where to look. At this girl, who she felt strangely close to, having been pressed up against her for the last hour or so, or at the boy to find out what they were going to do with him. Her gaze travelled back and forth.

Two trainers were busying themselves with the boy. Doing something. Oh! They were attaching a hose to the plug in his ass. It must have some kind of conduit. They were going to give him an enema. The position he was in held his ass up and open, perfectly. But it also allowed his stomach room to expand. His belly was hanging down, unencumbered. The water would be able to flow without obstruction.

The other trainers were still questioning the girl. They had her lie back on the top of the table and open herself to their probing fingers and searching eyes. Nikki burned in anticipation of how that would feel, totally exposed, totally powerless. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she could see that they were making the girl answer questions.

Nikki felt a wave of feeling hit her. She was chained. Helpless. Covered in piss. About to be examined and interrogated, and then penetrated and irrigated. And there was no way out Nobody to appeal to, no safe word, no escape clause. This was it. She felt panicky. She hadn’t felt claustrophobic in the cell, but she felt it now. Her breathing was shallow, she could feel her heart racing, sweat pouring down her sides.

“Hun. Breathe deep.” The slave behind her had sensed her state and he was whispering in her ear. “It’s okay. They aren’t going to do anything that hasn’t been done before. Your trainer still loves you. You wouldn’t be here if your trainer didn’t think you were ready, didn’t think you could handle it.” His words were reassuring. “You’ll be fine. Now BREATHE”

Nikki took a deep breath. Was glad for his comfort. Happy he was there, had connected with her in this way. Was soothing.

The trainers had come to collect her. There was no more waiting. She was up.

They unhooked her arms. Brought them down in front of her. Ooo, the relief of it. Not having the pulling sensation. Her feet flat on the ground. Such a simple pleasure a simple joy.

The two big trainers hustled Nikki forward to the interrogation desk.

“Nikki?” The trainer behind the table was looking down at a form in front of him. He had a print out of all the slave’s names and he was matching the individuals to the list.

“Yes, Sir.” Nikki felt like she was croaking out the words, her throat so dry and scratchy.

“Did you soil yourself in the cell?.”

Oh! They were going to make her say it. The blood rushed to Nikki’s face. This always worked. Making her do something humiliating or embarrassing, but then compounding that embarrassment by making her acknowledge it. Making her use her intelligence, her voice, her human-ness. To acknowledge her lack of humanness.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Tell me what you did, girl.”

“Oh, Sir. I emptied my bladder. It was too full, Sir. And I didn’t know when I was going to be let out. I tried to hold it. But it was painful. And then when I tried to let go I couldn’t. It took me a long time. Eventually, I did empty it.”

The trainer looked inscrutable. His face stony and unreadable. Nikki wasn’t sure if she’d said too much, if she should have just stopped at “I emptied my bladder.” Well, it was too late now. And this was who she was – a chatterbox.

“Honesty and disclosure are good, girl. But you didn’t have permission to pee, did you.”

“No, Sir.” Nikki felt shamed. Even though it clearly would have been impossible for her to hold it for that long. She some how felt that she had failed. She lowered her head. Feeling like a child caught misbehaving.

“Then again you weren’t told not to either.” He looked up, waiting for her response.

“No, Sir.” Nikki responded, a glimmer of hope deep in her. Maybe she wasn’t at total fuck up after all.

“Next time you will follow instructions. If we tell you to pee when you have to, you will pee as soon as you have to. If we tell you to hold it, you will hold it until you pass out and your body lets go without any conscious choice. Right girl?”

“Yes Sir.” Nikki’s voice was strong and enthusiastic. It was easy to agree, it felt like coming home. Clear instructions. The ability to follow them. That was what she liked.

“Ok. Now. Climb up here and show me your pussy.” He patted the table in front of him.

She needed to step forward, between him and the table and then hoist herself back. She had seen the others do it. She knew what was expected. The chain between her hands was just long enough to allow her to put her hands on either side of her hips and push herself up and back onto the table. She lay back, using her stomach muscles as she had been trained. And she opened her legs.

Nikki knew she smelled of urine, but she also smelled of the boy’s cum, and her own arousal. The trainer was so close. He’d be able to smell all of it. He’d know what had happened.

Sure enough, he put his hand forward and touched the wet slick on her leg. Ran his fingers up and scooped a little moisture up on his fingertips. Brought them to his nose.

“Mmmm. You were busy on the line, weren’t you.”

Nikki wasn’t sure if a response was required, but decided that a simple “Yes, Sir.” couldn’t hurt.

Actually it did hurt. Felt like a physical blow, just a blow to her pride, but ouch! His comment so scornful. Making her feel less than human. Well, she was less than human. So it made sense.

“Did he initiate it or did you?”

Nikki didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to blame the boy. But she didn’t want to take responsibility either.

“How could I, Sir? I was facing forwards.”

“Non responsive, girl.” The trainer was smirking to himself, and he wrote something down on the paper in front of her.

Nikki took a deep breath. She felt loyalty to the boy behind her, he had been wonderful to her, calming, sweet, good. But they owned her, and they owned the truth.

“It was the boy, Sir. He used me.”

“Better girl.” His voice was soothing. “But…” he advanced his right hand up her thigh… “You obviously enjoyed it.” He pushed two fingers through the thick moisture at the mouth of her cunt and entered her, her body instinctively yielding to him.

“Yes Sir.”

“Honest.” He noted it.

He asked her a few more questions. Looked at her body. Made notes. She hoped she had done well.

Then the two trainers were moving her over to the apparatus. She was being forced to kneel. Her head was way down low, her breasts hanging, her belly. Her legs spread. She could feel her labia open. She was totally open, and as she felt the trainers strap her wrists down and fasten the belts around her chest and her hips she realized that she was also totally helpless.

She felt two hands opening her cheeks. And then pressure on her anus. Cold and wet, must be lube. It was being spread around a bit. Pushed in slightly, pulled back out.

“Relax” one of them was whispering in her ear. “Push a little. You know how to do this, you’re just nervous.”

Nikki closed her eyes. Allowed this to be done to her. She pushed and took the plug up her ass. It felt so big. She felt like she was being stretched and filled to the limit. She didn’t feel any tearing. It was ok. But so big. She felt it slide all the way in. Felt her anus close around the smallest part. She had an image in her head from what the other slaves had gone through. So she knew what to expect. She felt the flange holding her open, even when whoever had been holding her cheeks apart let go.

She heard the trainers busy around her. And she felt the pressure as they attached the hose. She was expecting it, but nothing really prepared her for the sensation of the water flowing in. Given her position, it flowed in easily. Warm, thankfully. And filling her. She could feel it getting deeper into her bowels. Deeper and deeper. She could feel her belly starting to fill. And she felt a desire to push, already.

She breathed into it. She felt heavy and full. Her stomach hanging down. Round.

“It’s slowed, Sir.” One trainer was talking to the other.

“Ok. Give her the last push and we’ll move on.”

A push! Oh. Nikki knew what that meant. One of the trainers would hold the hose in place while the other built up a little pool of water at the bottom of the hose. Then the second trainer would use his fist to squeeze the extra water into her bowels, adding pressure to the gravity that was already moving the water in. She exhaled and felt the bolus of water traveling into her already full entrails.

Now they were unbuckling her. Letting her up. Ohh. She was so full. She felt like she was sloshing. She clamped her muscles down on the plug, trying to hold on to it. She knew it was thick, but the desire to evacuate her bowels was growing.

They reattached her hands and put her back on the cable.

Ohhhh! There were several slaves in front of her. Including the girl who had been there before. When was she going to get the opportunity to release? How long was she going to have to wait. She could feel it already.

Nikki could hear moans from the other slaves on line. She was glad that they had given her a little more room, but her belly was still pressed into the slave ahead of her. And the waves of pain were building.

She shuffled forward. Now they had brought over the boy behind her. She was sandwiched between the two slaves again, moving forward slowly on this assembly line of slave care. How incredibly dehumanizing. They were pushing him into her. She could feel his distended belly pushing her belly into the girl in front of her.

She was going to hold it. She closed her eyes again, for a moment. Breathed.

There was a keening sound coming from someplace towards the front of the line. She couldn’t even tell if it was a boy or a girl. But somebody was having a hard time. She focused on it. It got louder, shriller. It was the sound of an animal in a trap. Or a woman in labor. Intense.

One of the trainers came over. Spoke in calm tones. “Deep breaths. Hold it. It’s just water. You can do it”

The sound didn’t change. If anything it came in faster bursts.

“GIRL! Pull yourself together.” The trainer sounded like he was talking to a child. Or a dog. Nikki was so glad it wasn’t her, that she wasn’t the one losing control . But it could have been. The pain was intense.

The girl was grunting now. Rhythmically. She was clearly trying to control it. Then the sound of the grunts changed. Got deeper. Somehow a different quality to them. More purposeful.

Oh! The girl was pushing! She was going to empty herself in line. Nikki realized what was happening before the odor hit her, but then it did. Whew! Strong, dank. Like something had died. The girl must have been constipated. Her trainer had screwed up sending her here with her bowels in a mess. It may have been her trainer’s fault. But she was taking the brunt of it.

Nikki couldn’t see everything that was going on, but she could tell that the girl was being pulled out of line. Not before getting watery shit on the slave behind her. She was being forced to stand on a small stool so everybody could see her. Nikki couldn’t tear her eyes away. The girl was shaking and crying, shit running down her legs. She was trying to squat. But the trainer was slapping her and making her stand. Her stomach was undulating where she was trying to push.

It was the look on her face that was the most incredible. She was totally defeated. She had failed, and everybody could see. Nobody else had soiled themselves. And she was filthy now. Still covered in urine, but now covered in shit too. Standing as a warning to all the other slaves.

Nikki wasn’t going to let that happen. However, as she moved towards the front of the line, the urgency got stronger and stronger. The smell was disgusting, but it was actually making her feel even more urgent.

She inched forward. Focusing on calming herself. Breathing. They were going to let them go, for sure.

Finally, she could see into the next room. Where the toilet had to be. And yes there was a toilet. ONE toilet. In the center of the room. On a small raised platform. So everybody could watch as the slave emptied the water from his or her bowels. It was strange. The toilet was high, very high, so high that the slave’s legs dangled. Didn’t touch the floor.

Nikki saw the slave ahead of the girl ahead of her. He was moving up to the dais. She could see the relief in his face. He eagerly got on the toilet. He didn’t seem to be phased by having an audience. He pushed and she could hear the gas escape along with the shit. Could hear the shit splashing into the bowl . But there was something else in his face. A confused look. Pain from the bowels, but something else too.

When he stood she could see what it was. His backside was all red. She couldn’t quite see, but there was something about the toilet seat. Ohhh.

Nikki was rocking back and forth. Trying to move with the pain. Trying to keep control of it. And the girl was up there. She was next. She didn’t care what the toilet seat had on it. She had to shit! She rocked. The girl was pushing. Taking her time. Oh please. Please.

Finally it was Nikki’s turn. She was marched up to the seat. It was the strangest thing she had ever seen. It was covered in rough stones, like that fancy concrete stuff they make some walkways out of to make them look more interesting – the aggregate big pebbles not sand. Some of the pebbles were sharp. Not sharp enough to break the skin, but sharp.

Nikki didn’t care. She sat on it. Oh the relief of being able to let go. She knew the trainers were watching, the other slaves. But she had to go so badly she didn’t care. She felt the wave of the cramps pushing through her, the relief of it. But she also felt the sharp points of the rocks. With no way to rest her feet, her full weight was resting on her ass and upper thighs, and digging the little rocks into her. She pushed and pushed, felt the shit snaking its way out of her.

Finally she was done. It was over. She was being lifted off. She could feel a dribble of shit and water running down her thigh. Could feel how raw her ass was. She was a shit and piss covered wanton exhibitionist. She had been humped and probed and irrigated. She was nothing but this. She moaned.

Nikki hoped the next room would be where she got cleaned.

Contained

Nikki was alone, enclosed. She could feel the thin hard mat below her, the hard metal surface under it. In the pitch-black darkness, she could also feel the wall at her left. And if she moved her right leg out, she could feel the wall at that side. Above her, she knew, the ceiling was only about two feet above her, even if she couldn’t see it in the dark. She couldn’t sit up without hitting her head. She had tried it.

She was in a space just big enough to hold her. A kind of kennel, like a Japanese capsule hotel or, a kind of disturbing image, like a drawer at the morgue or a tomb at a mausoleum. She had had just enough time to glimpse the wall of square doors as she was brought into the dormitory. Then she had been hustled over to the one open door, a little ladder like at an old fashioned library next to it, and she had been ordered to crawl in, swatted on the butt to encourage her. Her crawling awkward because her hands were chained to her collar.

As the door slammed behind her she realized just how small this space was.

It was small and there was absolutely no sound and no light. If she had been floating in warm water it would have been like one of those sensory deprivation tanks that had been so popular in the ‘70s. But she remembered that there had been a pretty serious time limit for being in the tank. She had no way to know how long she was going to be in here. She didn’t even know how long she had already been in.

Nikki could hear her heart beating, could hear the blood flowing past her ears, could feel her pupils dilating, trying to see in the darkness.

“I am not claustrophobic. I am not claustrophobic. I am not claustrophobic.” Nikki knew she wasn’t, but this was intense. What if they forgot she was there? What if she had a heart attack or appendicitis. What if she needed to pee. Of course as soon as that thought entered her mind, she did need to pee. Really needed to. She could feel her full bladder pressing into her nerves.

She took a deep breath. Tried to calm herself. Squeezed her legs together. “It’s okay. They are not going to forget I am here. They are about to put me up for auction. I am valuable.” The thought of the auction rushed into her head. It was really close now. Only a few days away.

She would be tested some more, put through exercises along with the other slaves who were up for auction. She would be displayed, viewed by all the potential buyers. Inspected. They would look through her portfolio, see the write ups; Mark’s comments, the review of the blow job she had given as her first evaluation, the comments of the wise older man who had delved so deeply into her psyche, the Serbians, the dinner party, the wrestling match. All of it. And they would have her admissions records too. All the data they had collected when she thought she was just at a Spa.

In the total silence and darkness all the images of what she had been through flowed back through Nikki’s mind like a slide show. She saw the progression of her submission, from wide eyed wonder and amazement, to deep and constant arousal. As she imagined each of the steps in her training, she felt her body responding. She could feel the inside of her vagina. She felt the now familiar sensation of arousal from submission, feeling the weight of it covering her.

That was really the only way she could describe it, like a blanket or a mantle. It was like one of those lead aprons they give you before they take x-rays – so heavy, but in such a diffuse way your body has to relax under it to accept the weight of it. Her mouth opening, her back feeling like jelly. And her insides reacting, warming, opening, the wetness flowing. Her nipples tingling, her breasts feeling heavy, her labia feeling swollen.

Mmmmm. It felt good. She wanted to touch, slide her finger in and test the soft folds, see how slick and wet and hot she was. She wanted to slide moisture up around her clit and rub gentle circles. She wanted to feel the pressure translating up her spine, warming her further. She wanted to spread her legs and push her hips up into her fingers and moan out loud while she pushed herself up and over in an intense orgasm.

Without thinking, instinctively, she moved her hand down towards her pussy.

“Aaak” Her voice cried out in a frustrated half moan half scream. She had forgotten. Her hands were chained to her collar. She could move them three inches. Just enough to be able to crawl on her elbows with her hands at her neck, but not even enough to be able to touch her nipples, let alone her cunt.

They were clever. She had to hand them that. They must have known, that left to her own devices, by herself, in the pitch-black, that she would want to touch herself. And they had made it close to impossible.

Nikki squeezed her legs together and rubbed her bent arm against her breast, pressure and friction against the nipple. She pushed her hips up. And moaned. Almost, but not quite enough stimulation.

Maybe on her stomach. She rolled over. Hard to do without full use of her hands. But this was definitely better. She spread her legs, pushed her hips into the mat. It didn’t provide much resistance, but it was just enough to give her a little stimulation, a tiny bit of pressure against her clit. She was moving rhythmically now, rubbing her nipples against the mat, pushing her hips forward, rocking into her clit.

She thought about her helplessness. She was totally at their mercy. They could do whatever they wanted with her. Feed her, not feed her. Keep her clean, let her soil herself. She didn’t even control her basic bodily functions. They could give her an enema, or catheterize her. Or just keep her in this drawer until she had to pee herself. They were going to sell her off.

Her breath was coming hard now. She thought about the auction. She didn’t really know how it worked. Did they bring the girls up on a podium, like a painting at Sotheby’s? Did they auction them one at a time? Did they make them perform for the audience? Or did they allow bidders to walk around, admiring a variety of slaves and seeing the current high offers?

She thought of herself in front of a crowd. Forced to bend over, to show her cunt and her asshole. Told to lie on her back and open her legs, lie on her belly and move her hips up and down. Things shoved into her. Things pulled out of her. And her face betraying her arousal, her enjoyment of the submission of it.

As she imagined it, Nikki pushed her hips harder into the mat. Her pleasure building, sweat starting to form under her arms and behind her knees. She could feel the orgasm, now just out of reach. She used her elbows to push her shoulders back a little and give her the ability to rub her nipples teasingly against the mat. Just a light friction as they moved back and forth. She thought of Mark’s hands on her, his fingers pulling and tugging at her sensitive tissues. She thought of his lips sucking her nipples into his mouth.

Then she remembered. He had handed her over. He was no longer directly responsible for her. A wave of sadness passed through her. She thought of his face. She had learned to read every nuance of emotion: approval, happiness, affection, or anger, disappointment, concern. She knew exactly what he was thinking before he spoke a word. And she wanted nothing more than to make him proud. How was she going to survive without him?

If she was very very lucky, he might win her at the auction. He had gotten permission to bid. The strategy was complicated. If there weren’t enough bidders, and the price was low, they might decide to let him bid a little more and keep her for another cycle, train her a little more, resolve any of the issues and questions the buyers might have. On the other hand, if there were a lot of bidders and a record price, they might decide to let him bid on her, pay a huge amount and create a stir in the international community. More people would come next time to check her out. And she’d still have the freshness of coming right on the block from her trainer.

So she needed to do as well as possible in the compulsories. She thought of being his slave. How wonderful it would be. Of course, she wouldn’t be his only slave. He’d have Cindy and who knows, maybe others. Everything would be different. But he’d still be her trainer. She’d still feel his hands on her, his mouth, his eyes. She’d still get to hear his noises as he pushed his cock into her, her mouth, her cunt, her ass.

She thought of him fucking her. On her stomach, as she was now, his legs pushing her legs wide open, his cock hot and urgent inside her. She thought of him thrusting harder, deeper, faster. She felt herself opening to him, receiving him, accepting his claim on her. She imagined the heat of it, the force, Mark’s balls slapping into her ass. In the silence of her little cell, she could hear the sound of it. The little sucking sound of her wetness as he pulled out, the squish as he drove back in, and the thwack of his balls and thighs hitting her.

Nikki moaned rhythmically as she pushed into the mat, imagining Mark, wanting him, yearning for his cock, for the sheer physicality of it. The heat. The smells. The sounds. But her imagination giving her enough to feel her arousal building. She pushed her knees wider, her ass moving up and down in the darkness. She pushed, and pushed, imagining she was pushing back into HIM.

And finally she could feel it cresting. The tingling starting at her cunt. Her ass tightening. The waves of contractions moving up. Feeling them along the back of her neck, up her scalp. Feeling the pleasure moving out the top of her head. She held her breath and then could hear her own voice crying out as the orgasm peaked and flowed through her.

Nikki collapsed, sweaty, on the thin mat. Her aloneness weighing on her.

That had occupied a few minutes, but she was still in this little cell with no light and no sound and no indication of how much longer it was going to be.

And Nikki had to pee.

She tried to breathe into the afterglow of the orgasm. Willing herself to sleep. She closed her eyes. Relaxed her toes. Her feet. Her calves. Her thighs. Her ass. Thought of what it would feel like to have Mark touch her, massage her, relax her. Imagined he was caring for her even now, in her mind. His training was more than just teaching her commands and obedience. He was giving her inner resources to take what was given. She was going to take this. Even if they kept her in the box for two weeks.

She must have dropped off. She dreamt of her prior life. She was in a meeting. A big conference room. Lots of suits. She was in one too. Black. Pants. Clunky high shoes, meant to make her 6’2” and increase the intimidation factor. She was standing in the front of the room. Reviewing some kind of data. She looked at it, blankly. She’d never seen it before. But it was in the familiar format for a valuation. Sources in the lower left. She could wing it. She’d done it before.

The scene had the disjoined rhythm of a dream, jumping from one image to another. But in all of them, Nikki was the center of attention – she was presenting, she was answering questions, she was giving directions. Then she was face to face with a man in a dark suit. He was whining – she’d given him some task that he didn’t want to do.

“John. Listen to me.” Nikki heard her own voice, strong, steady, commanding, on the edge of anger, but somehow reassuring in its confidence. “The workplan provides three weeks to complete this phase. I need you to focus. This stuff you’ve given me,” She shook her head. “It’s just not good enough. You’ve got inconsistencies, errors. I need you to go back and go through it with a fine tooth comb. Now go.”

She saw the submission in his face. Knew he wanted to please her. Saw that she was right. That he was comforted by her confidence and authority.

Nikki sighed. He might come back with the right stuff, but in all likelihood she was looking at an all-nighter correcting his mistakes. She felt her stomach contract with the tension of it. The responsibility. And just below the surface, anger and disappointment, ready to pour out. She knew what his face would look like at the end of their all-nighter; crushed, diminished, hurt. She hated that. But at the same time it made her feel superior. After all, she knew how to do this shit, and he obviously didn’t.

“Oh Madam, please don’t hurt me.” Wait. That didn’t fit. Nobody had ever said that to her in a business review.

Nikki woke with a start. Her heart racing. Seeing the spreadsheet and the data, just out of reach. She was disoriented. The dark. The silence. It was almost impossible to get her bearings. Oooo. She was a slave, not a boss. She was being prepared for auction. She was in a small cell. She was trapped.

She tried to breathe into it again. She was uncomfortable. Her mouth dry. Her arms stiff from being laid on. Her bladder uncomfortably full. Actually, intensely full. She remembered that she’d had to pee before she had gone to sleep. She rolled back on her back, in the hopes that taking pressure off her belly would help the feeling of pressure in her bladder.

It helped a little. But the feeling was still intense. She tried to think of other things. Sing to herself. She went through all the US Presidents. The state capitals. The constitutional amendments. Every poem she had memorized in Freshman English. But the pressure was getting worse. Had progressed to pain. She was sweating. And it wasn’t like she had any idea when this ordeal would be over. Not like a long lecture, or a flight in a small plane, when you know it’s going to be another 15 minutes or even another half hour. She had no idea.

Maybe the point was to keep her there until she lost it. Maybe she was supposed to lose this little piece of humanity. Even a dog doesn’t like to go in their own cage. But Nikki wasn’t even a dog. She was a slave. She didn’t have control over anything. Not even this.

She turned it over in her head. She could let go. But then she’d be wet. She tried to assess the pad she was lying on. How absorbent would it be? It seemed reasonable. But the smell would be bad too. The pain was building. Really overwhelming.

Nikki realized that she wasn’t going to have any choice. She was going to have to pee. Should she knock on the door? See if somebody would come? Would they be able to hear her? Well, if they couldn’t then they at least wouldn’t be mad at her for trying. She tried to turn around to get her hands near the door. But there wasn’t enough room. She couldn’t turn side to side, and she couldn’t sit up enough to roll forward either.

She could bang on the door with her feet. She scooted down. Tried to bang. But she could feel how ineffectual it was. She could hardly hear it. Let alone somebody from outside. There was nothing to do but let go. She resigned herself to it.

And then she realized that she couldn’t. She tried. She relaxed. Breathed into it. Focused on the pain of her full bladder. Nope. Nothing. She pushed. Imagined waterfalls. Peeing. Thought about the relief of it. Nothing. She made a little hissing noise. Nope. Amazing. All that conditioning to not pee in the bed. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t pee lying down.

What if she lifted her hips up? She raised her knees slightly and tilted her pelvis up. As soon as her ass lost contact with the mat, she could feel the pee moving down. Felt the first bubble reach the top of the urethra. Then it was coming in a flood. Peeing and peeing and peeing and peeing. She could feel the hot stream of it, the puddle forming below her. The smell hit her. Acrid. Disgusting.

She was torn between the intense feeling of relief. And the humiliation of it. Oh. They were really showing her, weren’t they. The powerlessness. She felt the pee moving down. There must be a slight grade within the cell, kind of like a bathtub. The pee was pooling by her head. She could feel her hair getting wet. And now it was getting cold.

What a horrible feeling. Lying in her own cold piss. Unable to get away from the smell. The feel. And she could feel it drying on her skin. Tightening. The uric acid reacting as it dried.

She was a dirty little animal. Hungry. Thirsty. Frightened. And powerless in her cell. How different from that woman in the dream. She snorted with the contrast. It really couldn’t be much more different.

The pad was starting to absorb some of the wetness. But she still felt wet, dirty, sticky. And hungry. And cold. How much longer was this going to go on?

Nikki closed her eyes. Tried to force herself to drift off. But it wasn’t working. Her arms were aching. And she couldn’t really change position, the pee adding to the tight space.

She felt herself pass through a new level of emotions. Anger. Why hadn’t she been rescued yet? What were they thinking? Frustration. She wanted to kick and scream. Problem solving. Can I open the door? Can I try knocking again? And finally, acceptance. If this is what they wanted, this is what she has to take. They wouldn’t give her anything more than she could take.

Nikki inhaled deeply. The smell of her own urine pervasive. She was a dirty little animal. They wanted her to feel it. She felt it. The blanket of her submission heavy on her shoulders. She exhaled. Accepted. Whatever they wanted to give her. She accepted.

And just as she felt the comfort of that acceptance, she heard the sound of somebody at the door.