Devastation Pt. 02

For the first time in a long, long time the hint of a smile across Petra's full, luscious lips, despite her bondage. A shaky, non-confident smile, but a smile nonetheless as once again, motherly love shone through. Sabirah saw no point in continuing with the 'Sexual Offender SO-401' tag and premise any longer. That had served its purpose. Events were moving on, although Sabirah wouldn't allow the grip of guilt and shame to diminish or lessen. A major part of Sabirah's sadistic makeup was the psychological torture, linked with the physical.

"Well Petra... good... good girl. I take it from that smile that you approve of this direction?"

"Y-yessss, yesssss... t-thank y-you so much... yesssssss."

Genuine gratitude. Genuine humbleness that Sabirah liked. Liked a lot.

"Well... that's good Petra, truly it is. I have to say though that this other 'direction' would not be acceptable in the 'normal' world. I mean, you are not 'normal,' are you? But, more than that... your illness and... 'sexual greed, and need' would not be acceptable in the normal world either. This other 'direction' we are going to travel in involves you 'suffering' as well as some gratification of your sexuality. The thing is that... the 'suffering' you will experience wouldn't be acceptable in the normal world either. I mean.... you do agree, and accept, that you deserve to 'suffer,' don't you, Petra?"

Again the slow, almost monotonous tone as Sabirah spelt out Petra's future with well-chosen, not-too-detailed words. Petra's tongue sliding across her lower lip as another throb tingles the inner depths of her clitoris.

"Y-yessss, yes I s-should suffer... it's only right that I suffer... y-you know w-what best for me, yesssssss."

Sabirah smiles right into Petra's eyes. A wide, beaming smile. At the same time, she just reaches forward, and caresses around the underside of Petra's latexed right breast. Ever so softly. Just gently denting the latex skin. Letting Petra feel a tenderness there.

"Yes Petra, yes I do know what is best for you. I always will. But... we have to decide how best to take yourself, and Stefani, out of permanent circulation. I mean, all officially, of course."

Sabirah lets the words sink in slowly as she returns to her table, to a folder, and removes two documents from it. Checks over the contents carefully before moving back towards, and directly in front of Petra. She holds up the two pieces of A4 paper on a landscape format. Only one is visible since the other is behind it. Sabirah holds them up at eye level, about two feet or so from Petra's eyes. She knows her eyesight is limited. She knows also that she will be able to make out the two words in an antique scroll font. In a kind of semi-arch across the width of the page.

"DEATH CERTIFICATE"

It takes a couple of seconds for it to sink in. In that time, Sabirah has slid the other document from behind the first. That one also reads

"DEATH CERTIFICATE"

Petra hears herself suck in breath and whimper before Sabirah does. All the psychologist sees are Petra's gorgeous lips parting. Words forming but not coming out. At least not in any audible form. Not straight away anyway. Then just a solitary word, muttered over and over and over.

"No... no... no... no... no... no... no... no... no..."

Sabirah, moving in closer so the second line can be read. The second line in a straight type. Easier to read and yet a smaller font in bold letters. Under the words Death Certificate on one document

Petra Harding

On the other document

Stefani Harding

The same word coming out of Petra's hyperventilating mouth time after time after time

"No... no... no... no... no... no... no... no... no..."

Until Sabirah's voice cuts through the monotony.

"Yes Petra. Yes... both yours and Stefani's Death Certificates. They state 'accidental death' as the cause of death. Once these have been issued, both you and Stefani will cease to exist. Both of you will be nothing. Any trace of you wiped out. The story that accompanies these death certificates is that you were both wiped out, in a car accident whilst traveling around South America. Both bodies so badly burned so as to be unrecognizable. And yet the remains positively identified as those of yourself and Stefani via dental records. Such a shame, too. After being released from my care, you had apparently decided to travel with your daughter, and it came to this awful.... horrible end...but not the end at all.... rather the beginning..."

Sabirah's voice held the same tone throughout... Every angle covered. Every eventuality allowed for. If Petra could have rocked in her horror on the stool she would have. The bondage didn't allow for that though. At least not without snapping her back into position courtesy of the bungee cords. Her lips still make the 'no... no...' shapes, but now, no sound coming out.

"On the plus side, Petra... with the two of you officially 'dead'... then absolutely any direction can be taken with you both. What I mean to say is... that you agree you deserve to 'suffer'... and so, well, there will be no amount of suffering that can be out of bounds, or not acceptable, because quite simply.... yourself and Stefani are nonentities. Nonentities, without rights. Nothings, that can be taken down so many roads of suffering. I mean... you do still agree that you deserve to suffer, don't you?"

Sabirah returning the certificates to the folder as she speaks. Allowing the little pause for Petra to gather what little thoughts she is capable of.

"Y-yesss, yes... I need to suffer. Deserve to suffer... yessssss."

Music to Sabirah's ears. A sadist of the advanced, complex variety. Not a lover of senseless beatings. Rather a molester of the mind, and a controller of the body with some hideously imaginative tortures thrown in for good measure.

"Gooood Girl... and so... this is the road we must travel..."

Petra still trying to come to terms with what was being said. That neither she, nor Stefani, would exist anymore. No one to say what was happening to her was wrong... or indeed, right. Another soul-drenching whimper and a sob. Another nerve-end-tingling throb through the bases of her nipples and clitoris. That was it, the focus on her sexuality. Her illness. Instead of trying to fight it. Harness it. Use it to its best advantages. More and more convinced that Sabirah's way was the right way.

"I'll put this into motion immediately... and well, who knows, maybe I can arrange a suitably moving 'joint funerals' for both you and Stefani...just to make it absolutely convincing to the outside world."

Sabirah lets a little gurgle of laughter escape her throat as she reaches out and traces Petra's both lips with her index finger. Lovely, succulent, soft lip flesh. And then down, glancing over her nipple tips. First one then the other. All at once the immediate hyper-intense orgasm rushing through Petra, making her rock this time... rock and then snap back into place thanks to the bungee cords.

"MMMMMMNNNNNGGNNNNNNGNGNNGNGNNNGN

MMMMMMNNNNNGGNNNNNNGNGNNGNGNNNGN

MMMMMMNNNNNGGNNNNNNGNGNNGNGNNNGN

MMMMMMNNNNNGGNNNNNNGNGNNGNGNNNGN

MMMMMMNNNNNGGNNNNNNGNGNNGNGNNNGN

MMMMMMNNNNNGGNNNNNNGNGNNGNGNNNGN!"

Wave after wave of intense, juice-squirting orgasm, her lips in an extended pout as she sounds off her pleasure. And then down again. Down and down into that paralyzing guilt and shame. Panting. Puffing, blowing out her lips. Breathing deeply, latex-enhanced breasts heaving and expanding with her breaths, falling as she exhales.

"B-but... Stefani... s-she w-won't suffer, too... will she?... Just me... j-just me, yes?"

Petra's question, even in its tone alone, held only the most distant hope that her daughter would not suffer as well. The demeanor of her mouth, lip-glossed but sullen, all-but-said that any such hope was slim, to say the least. Even that slim hope disappeared with Sabirah's considered reply.

"Ohhhh well, Petra... I'm afraid, on this road... on this little journey we are going to go on together, Stefani will suffer as well. It's just a simple fact that she is not really any different from you... not simply just in looks, but also this 'affliction' you have. This 'illness' that you have seemingly passed on to her. There is no real other option for Stefani, either. She must suffer also. I mean... that she must suffer dreadfully... the same as you will."

Tears pour out of Petra eyes, steaming up the inside of the latex covering the eyeholes in the hood. She sobs in an almost grieving way. Even as she feels Sabirah's fingers walking between her legs, feeling her distended, obscene labia before sliding up through her own slippery slime oozing from her sexuality, and up towards her clitoris, where a single fingertip dances then presses onto the very tip, making her orgasm again. Even more intense than the last. The waves longer, deeper, more hyper-intense, making her quiver. Making her cunt squirt.

"MMMMMMNNNNNGGNNNNNNGNGNNGNGNNNGN

MMMMMMNNNNNGGNNNNNNGNGNNGNGNNNGN

MMMMMMNNNNNGGNNNNNNGNGNNGNGNNNGN

MMMMMMNNNNNGGNNNNNNGNGNNGNGNNNGN

MMMMMMNNNNNGGNNNNNNGNGNNGNGNNNGN!"

Sabirah's voice caressing her mind also.

"But I figured, with your new focus -- your new priorities -- that, well, you wouldn't be too bothered about Stefani suffering a little... was I right to figure that, Petra, hmmmmm?"

Sabirah's fingers dancing and playing the clitoris; keeping Petra in fully hyper-intense orgasmic state, answering between clenched teeth

"Mmmmmm, y-yessssss, yes, you were right of course..... mmmmmmm, Stefani can suffer, too, yesssssss, yesssssss...."

And the fingers 'gone' from the clitoris, the orgasm immediately and quickly subsiding to be replaced by that all-consuming guilt. This time, a deeper guilt at the apparent betrayal by herself of her only daughter."

"Goooooood girlllllllllll."

Petra's heart-rending sobs. Heaving. Quivering, as she is held on the stool. Sabirah's voice fading as she leaves the room. Leaves Petra wallowing in her guilt, and swimming in her own juices.

"Good Girl........"

THREE - Stefani

Unlike Petra, Stefani was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She had everything from conception on. She had the best of everything and wanted for nothing. Sabirah hadn't really figured Petra's daughter into the equation, other than as a casual tool to inflict more suffering on mommy. Hormonally charged, mini-adults weren't normally the Doctor's thing. That is, she hadn't figured Stefani into the equation, until she had seen her. During her pre-checks and research on Petra, Sabirah had started to take more interest in Stefani. She looked delicious. A little younger than one of her normal projects. But still everything to lose. Everything to take away. Stefani grew on Sabirah, even though Petra was more established, more complete, and with so much more to lose. So much more to have taken away. Much, much more essence to demolish. Much, more for a sadist to feed on. And yet, there was Stefani... very much a part of that feed.

Selecting Selena to 'meet and greet' the delicious college girl was the right decision. Selena was a woman with issues, who wasn't swayed by tears, or emotion. Stefani had to be taken out quickly and precisely. Sabirah knew that Selena was the one. She knew also that Selena's favored method was the hairdryer shrink-wrapped latex bag over the head and face. She knew Stefani wouldn't provide much trouble after that. Indeed, wouldn't provide any trouble at all. She knew that by the time the girl had been transported to the clinic, she would already be in a subdued state of decline.

Transported in a latex body bag, with just a breathing tube clung perilously between quivering, frightened lips. Her mind in a complete whirl. Complete utter confusion. Disorientation. Turmoil. Still reeling from the enforced orgasm that Selena had so casually, easily enforced on her. G Spot found, caressed, teased... and clitoris rubbed... gently rubbed and tapped, and her struggle to breathe through the latex gash in her mouth. A shuddering, intense orgasm that had weakened her resolve more than a little.

In one way, Petra was lucky. I guess it depended which way one looked at it. She was taken out of the normal world slowly. Gradually. Broken down bit by bit... thus adapting bit by bit. Mind adapting, body adapting slowly... readjusting to her new surroundings. New environment. Her diminishing control ever diminishing. Of course, that was only one way of looking at it. The ultimate cruelty was undeniable, regardless of how quickly, or slowly, it was applied.

Stefani didn't have the 'luxury' of a slow, timed decline into Sabirah's world. Hers was practically instant. It's funny how the human mind, and body, 'knows' that cataclysmic change is about to occur. The basest survival instincts kick in. Even the most privileged person will dig deep, mentally and physically, in order to survive. Stefani's basest instinct had kicked in just seconds after that latex bag had been pulled over her head. At about the time when the hairdryer's hot air had been directed at the hood, at her face. When she felt the latex tightening around her features. When she knew she couldn't breathe anymore. When, eventually she was allowed to breathe, she had been so grateful... that she just didn't want to die, and would do anything she could in order to stay alive. THAT, probably, was the only flaw in base human nature -- the willingness to sink to any level in order to survive. Had she known what was in store for her, maybe death at the hands of Selena would have been the better option. Well, most certainly it would have been better.

Stefani had been taken straight down to the sub-sub levels of the clinic. No 'front steps' meeting for her. There was no point. Stefani already knew she was in deep, deep shit. It was pointless to tramp her through all the shallow stuff first. The van was taken around to the rear of the building and Stefani had been taken out and loaded into an external lift that only went in one direction. Down.

At about the time when her mother, Petra, was a little way through her initial isolation period, Stefani was being secured to a rig several levels below her. Not a gentle rig like mom would be secured to during the next phase of her breaking. Stefani's rig was stark, simple. A single-legged rig secured to a floor that sloped gently inwards from all four sides. On top of that single, adjustable height-leg was a platform, deeply padded with leather. It would be wrong to call this platform a bench. It was too short for that. Much too short for an average human length, although wide enough.

Stefani had been secured to this bench on her back. Her arms and legs remained secured and doubled up. The kind of semi-amputated bondage she had been placed in for the journey from home to 'home.' Her legs overshot the end of the bench, such was its short length. As did her head at the other end. Broad, supple yet strong latex straps held her to the rig, one across her waist, the other across her shoulder just above her breasts. Very tight, very secure, and with the height of the platform up to about the waist of an averaged-height human being.

Her long, doubled up legs had also been spread wide. Extremely wide.... a bar-stop placed between her knees to stop them from closing. Her knees then forced pointing down and secured to the floor with bungee cord. Her arms, forced out at right angles to her torso, and then forced down as far as they could physically go and secured again with the much-favored bungee cord. This bungee cord was a very effective, very deceptive, and yet simple, piece of equipment. Depending on the grade and elasticity used, it afforded 'some' movement. But not a permanent movement. Or movement that allowed any 'relief.' The secured person could strain to move... but it required a lot of effort. At the end of that effort, once the effort had been released, the limbs were sprung back to the original position.

"TWANG!"

In Stefani's case, the discomfort and effort was several-fold, since her arms and legs were doubled. Wrists secured to upper-arms. Ankles to upper-thighs. This was the kind of debilitating bondage that Stefani would have to get used to on a long-term basis. She was arched... terribly arched backwards, with only a certain proportion of her supported by the padded platform. The intention was to cause untold agonies, and it did. But the bondage held a bonus, a visual bonus, in that Stefani resembled a work of art in that setting. A dark work of art, but a work of art no less.

At the time when her mother could have still, theoretically, bailed out of the 'volunteer' program, Stefani's fate had been sealed. On that rig, latex bag now cut from her head and face, the laser beams did their work on the eighteen-year-old. They worked her slit first. Enlarging, fattening, the labia. Both sides. Up then down. Continuously. Single beams working the entire length of her slit. Not slowly. Not a gradual treatment. A more swift affair. Measured in relatively short hours. She would have been aware of the change after minutes. And the 'throb' shortly after that. Then the work of the lasers would have been continuous, unrelenting. Sensitizing the flesh, fattening it, enlarging it. The drip drip of produced juices beginning very quickly, and also unrelenting.

Stefani could do nothing except look up... at the darkness. Such was the lighting in these rooms, the ceiling was not visible in the gloom. She remained spotlighted, but seeing beyond that shroud of light was all but impossible. Her sex twitched as she felt the first changes down there. Her lips peeled apart and she moaned slightly as her labia swelled then rolled out.

"UHHHHHHHHHHHHH OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH."

As those particular beams did their work, so other beams relieved the girl of her fluffy downy coating of hair down there. The hair visibly shriveled on a strand-by-strand basis, eventually leaving her smooth, 'hair free.' That hair wouldn't return, such was the finality of this particular laser treatment. The slight redness from the hair removal would fade, leaving just smooth, glistening, soft feminine flesh. Fresh juicy flesh.

Once the labia had been enlarged, worked and peeled back, a further beam had been introduced in order to locate, then peel the clitoris from its hood. Working it, unpeeling it, and then enlarging it. Fattening it. Increasing its diameter... turning it into that wet, quivering, hypersensitive organ. Not caressing the tip of the clitoris, just the base and the sides... leaving the very tip... the orgasm-producing tip, alone.... denying any much needed, much craved orgasm. It was during this part of the process that the slow, addictive madness would have begun to break her down proper. In just a few hours, Stefani was reduced to a mumbling, dripping thing with deep, deep throbs, maddeningly originating from somewhere deep inside her most private, intimate areas. Such was the speed of this state reached, Stefani's resolve and fight wasn't quite so diminished.

"UUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGG LET ME GO.... YOU FUCKING ANIMALS...."

Sabirah had smiled to herself at that outburst. And had continued to smile as she had entered the room, and reached between the girl legs. Feeling the wetness. The slickness. The slipperiness. Then just gripping the enlarged, engorged clitoris between latexed thumb and forefinger and just 'tugging' very gently, making Stefani gasp and suck in air. Then the same finger and thumb tapping on the tip of the clitoris. The very tip. The epicenter of the swollen dripping hyper-organ, bringing her to a massive, nerve-tingling orgasm.

"UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHSHITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

GGGGGGGGGNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

GGGGGGGGNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

MMMMMMMMNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!"

Sabirah flicking the clitoris tip time after time. In perfect unison with the waves of cum. Stefani's eyes rolling up into their sockets as her young relatively adolescent mind tried to absorb these intense, pure, undiluted waves of pleasure that were being given to her. Then nothing... as Sabirah takes away her fingers leaving the girl panting, heaving. Her chest rising and falling as she remained secured, arched back over the padded rig.