Measurement

Nikki wasn’t sure what “Let’s get on with it” meant, but she hoped it would involve some food. She hadn’t eaten anything for close to 24 hours. She felt like she’d almost passed through hunger to some other state, beyond. She felt empty. And weak.

The slaves were arranged into a long line and led out of the room.

The smell hit her first. Ohhh. Deep rich smell of meat and tomatoes that had cooked together for a long time. Onions. Oregano. Maybe a little bay leaf. Subtle hit of wine. She felt like she was going to swoon. Such a delicious smell.

Then she saw. There were two long troughs. Low to the floor, about 8 inches wide, with little indentations for a neck. They were going to eat like pigs.

Now the trainers were passing among them. A tall woman pushed Nikki’s hands together behind her back, made it clear she was to clasp them there. And then put a head band around her forehead to hold her hair back from her forehead. So clever. That way she wouldn’t get her hair dirty eating.

“Don’t get your face dirty.” She held Nikki lightly by the shoulders and whispered in her ear. “Make a wise choice.”

Nikki looked down. Sure enough. One trough was filled with the most beautiful looking bolognaise sauce, ground veal sautéed with onions and carrots, and then simmered in cream and wine until it was a thick, rich, mixture, flavorful and tender. The other was filled with the dreaded dry nuggets of soy protein mixed with oats and chopped raw chard. Plenty of fiber, protein, and “good” carbohydrates. But totally tasteless.

Yes the choice was clear. However tempting the meat was, she was a slave and she needed to put her instructions before her own pleasure. She needed to get down on her knees and eat the fucking soy nuggets again. And she needed to accept it.

“Good girl.” The trainer laughed. She had snapped a photo of Nikki’s face with a little cell phone camera. “You should see the look on your face!”

Nikki could imagine it. She was doing it. Resigned to it. Accepting. But she was miserable. She felt the hard floor under her knees as she slid forward and leaned her face over to the trough, other slaves jostling for position, pushing and shoving as best they could with no hands, trying to get a few bites of the mixture.

In a few minutes the trough was empty and not a single slave had even tasted the meat. How well behaved they were!



Nikki felt good. Clean, fed, well rested. She was ready for whatever was going to come next.

Or at least she thought so.



The slaves were paired up with trainers and brought into a big room with row after row of examining tables. Nikki was matched with the trainer who had instructed her on what to eat. The trainer didn’t even bother to introduce herself, just led Nikki to a table in the middle of the second row, slaves all around them, the hum of orders issued and slaves bustling to obey.

“Hop on up” The trainer patted the table, crinkly with white tissue paper.

Nikki sat on the paper.

The trainer tapped her shoulder, made it clear she was to lean back. She did, suddenly feeling her nakedness intensify.

The trainer had a tape measure. A slave came up with a hand held computer device. She was a slave, but obviously not one of those who were up for auction. More of an assistant.

“Oh, good, Linda, you can help.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Her voice was deferential, respectful. She was obviously used to serving.

“I’ll read out the measurements, you can tell me the change.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

And the trainer started measuring. Nikki’s neck, her upper arms, her forearms, the distance from her collarbone to her nipple, the circumference of her breasts.

Many of the measurements had changed since she had first come to the facility. She had gained muscle mass and had toned her core. Maybe from the exercise. But maybe from all the sex. Nikki smiled to herself. She hadn’t known how much sex could do to tone the muscles of the abdomen and pelvis.

Nikki felt like a piece of meat being inspected. But in a way, that’s what she was. The realization came over her. Warming her. She really was a slave. This really was happening. And she had been given an out, just a few minutes ago, and she had decided against it. Incredible.

“On your hands and knees, girl.” The trainer tapped Nikki on the side, breaking her reverie and making her scramble to get into position.

She was positioned with her knees slightly apart, her breasts hanging down. She knew that all of her was visible in this position. That she was totally exposed, her nakedness on view to the trainer and her slave assistant. Even to the other slaves at the table near hers. Humiliating.

“Spread her.” The trainer was obviously talking to the slave girl, Linda.

Nikki felt Linda’s small warm hands on her ass, pulling apart the cheeks of her buttocks, opening her even wider. And she felt herself ooze in response. Felt the blood in her genitals, the humiliation deepening and spreading.

“She’s a slippery one, Ma’am.”

“That’s okay, Linda. You just need to be careful about the depth, but it makes the measurements more accurate.”

Depth? Measurements? What were they going to do to her?

Nikki felt the trainer put a steadying hand on her lower back and then felt something pushing against her anus. Something hard and rounded. She relaxed and pushed out slightly, as she had been trained to do. Felt it slip past the muscles of her sphincter, and into her rectum. Felt it sliding in, it wasn’t very thick, but it was long. It kept on going in. Nikki could feel her body responding, warmth spreading through her, sweat forming under her arms, behind her neck

And it kept sliding. Finally, she felt a flange flat against her anus. She felt full.

“Okay Linda, you hold it. I’ll pump.”

Pump? Now what?

She felt the first influx of air as a slight change in pressure. The second was stronger. The third uncomfortable. Oh! They were pumping whatever they had put into her ass full of air. They were making it bigger. Testing how much she could take. How much she could accommodate.

The sweat was coming in full force now. Rolling down her sides and dripping. She felt so full. She could feel the muscles straining to accommodate. Felt herself opening to the invasion of this thing, like a flower opening up in the morning sunshine. She panted, tried to relax. Tried to open.

“That’s 7, the pressure is pretty high. Should we try for one more?” Linda’s voice was tentative.

The trainer addressed Nikki. “Relax, girl. I’m going to pump two more times and you will take it. Relax.”

Two more times! Nikki didn’t know if she could take it. She felt like her flesh was going to rip.

She felt the first pump. Rigid and big, the pressure intense. A moan escaped between her tight lips. The second. She screamed. She hadn’t intended to, but the pressure was just too much. She felt like she was being torn apart.

“Shhhhhh….” The trainer was stroking Nikki’s back. Her back was slick with sweat now, but the trainer was counting. “One, two, three, four,” her voice slow and deliberate. Nikki breathed in. Hoping they were just going to ten, no more. She couldn’t take any more. “Five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten.”

Nikki heard the hiss of the air escaping and realized she had been holding her breath too. The relief was amazing. Wonderful. Ahhhh. She felt her muscles relax. Felt the intruder slide out. Felt relief.

“Good job.”

Nikki glowed with the words. They weren’t required. The trainer didn’t need to praise her, even for a good effort. But she had. Nikki was pleased. She was so proud of herself. She couldn’t believe how happy these little words made her.

Nikki smiled as the trainer stroked her flank.

“Now let’s do her vagina.”

Oh no! It wasn’t over. She felt Linda holding her labia open as the trainer slid a thicker tube up in her. It kept going up and in until Nikki felt it graze her cervix, her whole body stiffening at the sensation.

“We’re all the way. She’s deep. Take down the measurement, Linda.” The trainer was back to talking about Nikki like an object, a thing to be measured and assessed.

Nikki felt the air pumped in. This was much more comfortable. Her vagina able to expand to accommodate it without any real problem. After all, if it was capable of accommodating a baby’s head, it could take just about whatever they were dishing out with their pump.

But now it was getting a little uncomfortable. The tube expanding and expanding more. Filling her. Deeper, wider, more.

Nikki panted.

And then it was over. The air sucking out. The test complete.

“What about her mouth, Ma’am. Do you want to do that now?”

“Of course, Linda. Don’t be silly. That’s what’s next.” The trainer seemed a bit impatient that Linda hadn’t just waited for her to give the order. “Turn around girl. Sit on the edge of the table. And open your mouth.”

Nikki did as she was told. This test was a little different. They weren’t going to blow it up, the phallus was already quite big as soon as she saw it. This was clearly going to be about how deep she could take it.

The trainer put one hand on the back of Nikki’s head and used the other to shove the thick silicone rod into Nikki’s mouth. She kept pushing. It was filling her mouth. Nikki extended her tongue slightly and relaxed her muscles, the way that Mark had taught her to do.

She felt the tube sliding deeper into her mouth. Past the entrance to her throat and further. The trainer was leaning into it. Pushing hard. Nikki could no longer breathe. The phallus was blocking her trachea. She felt herself stiffen automatically, start to choke. Her body naturally resisting the invasion, her hands tensed, she felt her stomach react, bile rising. Her legs twitched.

Then the realization washed over her. This woman knew what she was doing, wasn’t going to suffocate her. She’d be okay. This was who she was, what she was. It was for her to submit. To take it. She consciously relaxed. Willed her throat to open. Relaxed her legs, her gut, her hands. She was a slave, an object, to be measured and tested. Valued. But without will to resist.

She felt full, the silicone deep in her throat, spreading her, opening her. She let it push in deeper. Let it enter her. She needed oxygen. She tried to find the trainer’s eyes with her own, wanted to communicate her willingness, but also her need – her need for relief. But the trainer wasn’t looking. She was too focused on pushing. Pushing hard.

Nikki felt her vision start to close in, little black dots dancing in the periphery. She was going to pass out. Ooo… was that part of the test? Whether she would allow herself to be suffocated. She wanted to reach up and rip the woman’s hands off her, pull this thing out of her. She wanted to use her strength, her new muscles to overpower the trainer and make this stop.

The pain in her lungs was like fire. But she still held still. Willed herself to allow the woman to continue. It seemed like she could feel each of the alveoli of her lungs, each little pocket of air, could feel them crying out to be filled, but yet the woman kept the pressure steady.

Nikki couldn’t help it. Her body was shaking, her muscles tensing and relaxing. Her survival instinct won out and she reached her hands up to try to pull the trainer off, try to get this thing out of her throat.

“Ah, there she goes.” The trainer seemed to have been expecting it. “Two minutes, thirty seconds. Linda! Hold her down.”

The assistant stepped forward and held Nikki’s hands away. Now Nikki was rocking her hips back and forth, trying to shake the two women. But she felt herself getting weaker. She was fighting for her life now. Even though she knew, someplace in her higher logic, that they weren’t trying to kill her, it was like her reptilian brain had taken over and her fear was too strong.

Nikki’s vision closed in more. And then it was black.




Nikki woke with an oxygen mask over her face. Her throat hurt. And she had a headache. But the oxygen felt cool and delicious. She could feel it working to improve how she felt.

She was still on the table in the big room. Other slaves around her. This was apparently a normal part of the process. She saw other slaves also being treated.

The trainer she had been working with noticed she was awake. Took the mask off and gave her a little tube of oxygen, running under her nose. Definitely helped.

“You did well, girl. I felt your effort. You did a good job submitting. Now just relax.”

Nikki sunk into the words, covering her, warming her. She had submitted. She was submissive. It felt good.

“Open your mouth.” The trainer was holding some kind of spray bottle in front of Nikki’s face.

This woman had inflicted so much pain. Had made Nikki pass out. Had held her head and shoved the rigid phallus down her throat. Had really hurt her. And now she was expecting Nikki to meekly open her mouth and allow her to insert something else.

Nikki sighed to herself. And opened her mouth.

She waited, her mouth open, for whatever was going to come. She didn’t know what it was. It wasn’t her place to know. It was her place to trust. To trust in the system Trust in her position, her role. Trust this woman whose name she didn’t even know.

The trainer squirted something deep into Nikki’s throat. It tasted nasty. Bitter. But it made the pain completely disappear. It was some kind of analgesic. Ahhhhh. It felt good. Nikki felt it kick in, initial numbness and then warmth spreading out. Nice.

The trainers assembled all the slaves. They stood in a huddled mass. Naked, stripped of all trappings of modern society. Just chattel.

Nikki looked around. She knew some of these slaves from before they had been stripped of their real world identity; she had seen them in real clothes, with jewelry and accessories, cell phones, blackberries, expensive sunglasses. She had sat with them over a lunch or a cup of coffee. And now here they were, reduced to this.

“Can you believe it? Could you have imagined it?” The girl next to Nikki was whispering to her. She was a cute girl, named Anne. Medium height with dark curly hair and flashing eyes. Her hair was unruly, tumbling down her back in a beautiful cascade.

They had taken a dance class together the first day Nikki had been at the facility, before she knew it was not a normal spa, but a slave training center. They had been friendly the way any two strangers would be when they are thrown together in such a way. Normal.

Now Nikki was torn. She didn’t want to be rude to Anne. Didn’t want to seem like a goody –two-shoes. But she also didn’t want to get in trouble for whispering. She just smiled at the girl, didn’t say anything.

But it was too late. The trainers had noticed. They swooped in.

“You! Girl! Were you whispering?” A tall, grey haired, matronly trainer had the girl by the ear. Obviously tugging painfully.

“Ahhh, mmm, ummm….” Anne was stammering.

“Answer me girl!” The trainer was practically shaking Anne by the ear.

“Yes Ma’am. I’m sorry Ma’am.” Anne squeezed out the words. “It won’t hap..pp..pen again…”

The trainer was fishing around in her pocket for something. She came back with a pink rubber ball, about the size of a golf ball, maybe a little bit bigger.

“Here. You can wear this in your mouth. Let’s see you drool for a bit.” She turned to address the group. “I know this is an exciting time. Sometimes the feelings can be overwhelming, they well up inside you and you have the urge to share them. But you are not to speak.”

The trainer looked around the room. She tugged on Anne’s ear, again, making her make a little strangled noise behind the gag and forcing her to stand up straighter. “Anne here will be an example to you all. She will sit out the next exercise, effectively getting a ‘0’ on it, coming in last in the group.” There was a collective gasp as everyone realized the impact this would have on Anne’s value in the auction. This one moment of thoughtlessness would probably determine the type of buyer who would be interested in her. She probably would be out of contention as a “show” slave, and now would be only interesting to those who wanted to buy work-horses of slaves. Ooof.

“But the next slave to talk…” the trainer paused for effect. “the next slave to talk will not be auctioned at this facility. Do you all understand me?”

The slaves all nodded.

“Well then, let’s move on.”