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“Get onto the bed, cunt,” said the male officer.
The bed. Riley didn’t like the look of it. It had been worrying her since she came into the interrogation room. It was of the sort used for gynaecological procedures – with stirrups, to raise and spread her legs – but in addition it also had leather straps to hold her arms and legs in place.
Her hesitation showed on her face.
“Don’t make me slap you again, cunt,” said the officer. “We can’t start the inspection until you take your place on the bed.”
Start the inspection? Riley had been slapped, stripped naked, and forced to masturbate while sucking the cock of a man she hated – and the inspection hadn’t even *started* yet? She felt a wave of despair pass through her.
And yet, she knew she had no choice. The two officers – the man and the woman – had made it clear that they would not hesitate to force her – or worse – if she didn’t play along with this twisted little procedure. And, despite all common sense, they appeared to have the force of the law on their side – so even if Riley successfully escaped this room somehow, things would only get worse for her.
So she obediently walked across to the bed, and got up onto it, lying on her back, her arms crossed over her tits. She didn’t put her legs in the stirrups – she hadn’t been told to, and she may be helpless, but she wasn’t going to volunteer her degradation before she was asked for it.
She couldn’t help but notice that the table was almost exactly at crotch height for a standing person.
Tristan stood, as she lay down. He clearly wanted a better view, but couldn’t decide whether he’d prefer to see her face, or her cunt. He settled for her cunt, placing himself with a clear view of the lower half of her.
The female officer came over to Riley now, and looked down at her, without a trace of humour on her face.
“Do you have any smartass bitchy comments to make, before we begin the cunt examination?” she asked.
Riley blushed, and shook her head.
“Are you sure?” asked the woman, with a hint of sarcasm. “Because if you’re going to mouth off, tell us now, so that we can gag you.”
“No, ma’am,” said Riley, hurriedly. “I’ll behave.”
“See that you do,” said the woman. And then she seized the leather straps near Riley’s arms, and pulled them tight across Riley’s upper arm, and then wrist, buckling them tightly into place, locking Riley’s arms firmly in place against the bed.
At the other end of the bed, the male officer picked up her legs, lifting them off the bed, and then forced them apart. Riley resisted, momentarily – she couldn’t help herself – but her resistance just made her feel even more helpless, as the officer’s strength effortlessly parted her thighs.
Her cunt was now wide open, fully exposed, pointed at the male officer – and at Tristan. Riley could no longer see Tristan or his expression from where she lay, but she knew he must be delighted with her humiliation.
The male officer placed Riley’s feet into the stirrups, and then secured the leather straps to hold her legs in place. Riley was now trapped – completely unable to move any part of her body, other than to turn her head, flex her fingers, or wiggle her toes.
“Beginning examination of the cunt of the undocumented bitch Riley Atwell,” said the female officer loudly – clearly speaking for the benefit of the cameras that recorded the procedure. “First question – are you fitted with a FemTag, cunt?”
“No, I don’t think so,” said Riley. “What’s that?”
“Bitch does not have a FemTag,” said the female officer, for the cameras. She nodded to her counterpart. “Tag her.”
The male officer picked up a long, thin device made of plastic and metal. He stepped forward with this, and pushed the end into Riley’s fuckhole.
Riley squealed at the unwanted penetration. “What is this?” she asked – and was rewarded with a slap from the female officer for her trouble.
“Be still, or you’ll be gagged,” the woman reminded her.
The device pushed further into Riley’s twat – and then suddenly, there was a click… and Riley howled in pain! Something had *pierced* her, deep inside her pussy!
“Shush,” said the male officer. He was withdrawing the device. “It’s a pinprick. You won’t even bleed.”
“What did you do?” demanded Riley. She didn’t want to be gagged – but the insertion, and the pain, had been frightening.
“You now have a FemTag,” said the female officer. “It’s a tiny subdermal chip with RFID and GPS capabilities located within your vagina. It collects basic biological data from your body – your menstrual cycle, your level of arousal, the date and time of your orgasms, when and where you piss, whether your cunt has been penetrated by an object, and whether sperm is detected in your pussy. That data is then uploaded to your government file.”
“And who can read that file?” asked Riley.
“Oh, anyone,” said the woman. “It’s publicly available on the internet. Anyone who knows your name can view the data in real time.”
Riley was horrified. “So… anyone can know when I’m horny? Or having sex?”
“Absolutely,” said the woman. “It just enforces basic female honesty. It’s better for everyone this way. So if you’re at work, and you take a toilet break, your boss can check if you actually piss, and punish you for time theft if you don’t. Or he can tell you you only pissed an hour ago, and you don’t need to go yet. Or if you orgasm on your toilet break, he can fire you or discipline you for being a slut.”
The male officer picked up from his colleague with more examples. “Or if a man propositions you for sex, and your arousal level is high, he can take that as consent, no matter what your mouth says. Or if he fucks you, and you don’t orgasm, he can report you for frigidity, so that you get reconditioned to better enjoy male attention.”
“And if you’re PMSing, everyone will know,” said the woman, “so they won’t ask your opinion or trust you with important decisions. It really has a lot of uses.”
“The celebrity gossip websites are loving it,” said the man. “They can see that Jessica – from that movie, you know here – maybe got aroused and orgasmed at 1 am in the morning, but there’s no penetration or sperm in her pussy. And they’ll speculate whether she was masturbating, or in a lesbian affair, and guess at what she was fantasising about. It‘s intensely humiliating for the celebrities, of course, but it’s what they’re paid for.”
Riley couldn’t believe this was happening. “When… how… can I get it out?” she asked.
“Oh, never,” said the woman. “It’s in you for life. It recharges using the natural movement of your body. It’s honestly a little dangerous to extract, given where it is. Most girls get used to it in time, but some bitches have real trouble with being honest in this kind of way, and need to be disciplined until they stop wanting to lie.”
“It’s online now,” came Tristan’s voice, from somewhere past Riley’s feet. “I can see it on my phone now. Riley Atwell. Data incomplete. But you can see that her cunt is still wet. And it’s a bit confused – presumably because it doesn’t have much data yet – but it thinks she’s in the fertile part of her cycle. Breedable. And no birth control detected.”
Riley hadn’t thought she needed birth control. The drugs messed with her brain, and in any case she wasn’t in a relationship, so she had thought the risk was low. But now she realised that perhaps she had been wrong. That word, “breedable”, sounded so sinister coming from Tristan’s mouth.
“Bitch has been tagged, and tag is online,” said the female officer, speaking again to the cameras. “Next item: pubic hair.”
“Trimmed, but not shaved,” reported the male officer.
The woman nodded. “Begin depilation.”
“This process is quite painful,” said the male officer, speaking now to Riley. “Would you like cunt stimulation, to provide endorphins, while we carry it out?”
“Remember, if your cunt becomes dry at any point during this procedure,” said the woman, “then you will be subject to discipline, and may be reported for frigidity. I recommend you take the stimulation.”
Riley whimpered. Depilation? What was that? She tried to remember the word, which sounded familiar.
The removal of hair?
“Please don’t,” she whispered – and then, suddenly afraid she was about to be slapped, she instead said, “Yes, give me the stimulation. Please.”
The male officer took a small and unusual dildo, and pressed it into Riley’s pussy. It consisted of a large, thicky stubby knob, that only penetrated a short way into her cunt, connected by a short length of plastic to a claw-like clamp.
The clamp, she discovered, went on her clitoris – and she squealed in pain as the male officer clipped into onto her sensitive nub. Her vagina immediately squeezed, trying to expel the dildo – which caused even more pain, because the clip on her clitoris prevented the device from fully exiting her twat. The more she tried to squeeze it out, the harder it pulled on her clit.
Then the officer flicked on a switch on the device’s base, and the whole thing began to vibrate.
Riley moaned. It hurt – and yet it felt so good, humming in her twat, vibrating her clamped clit. The combination of pleasure and pain seemed to amplify both sensations.
With the device in place, the male officer picked up a pair of tweezers – and began to pull out Riley’s cunt hairs, one by one.
Riley screamed – and screamed again.
“Gag her,” said the male officer.
The female officer nodded, and before Riley could react, a soft plastic ball was being forced into her mouth, connected to a leather strap. The woman buckled the strap behind her head, and suddenly the only noises Riley could make were muffled squeals.
“Her arousal level went up when you plugged her cunt with the dildo,” Tristan reported. “And she got even wetter when you gagged her. What a slut.”
The male officer continued pulling out Riley’s pubic hairs, one by one – each one a spike of agonising pain.
“The evolutionary purpose of female pubic hair,” said the female officer, “is to collect and amplify the scent of a bitch’s cunt, to signal her sexual availability and arousal to nearby males. But in today’s world, there are many other ways for a bitch to signify she wishes to be raped, and it is the preference of most men that a bitch’s cunt be hairless. In addition, a hairless cunt is more sanitary. So government policy now requires the removal of pubic hair for all bitches over the age of 18.”
Slowly, the male officer plucked the hairs from Riley’s pussy, one by one, each one a source of acute pain. But at the same time, the vibrator hummed in her fuckhole, and twitched her clamped clitoris back and forth, and she could feel her cunt drooling even as it was tortured.
At one point she began to buck her hips, not sure even within herself if she was trying to escape from the pain of the hair-pulling, or attempting to somehow fuck the vibrator deeper into her pussy – but the male officer responded by slapping her pubic mound, hard.
“Stay still, cunt,” he warned her, “or you will be disciplined.”
Riley did her best to obey.
By the time the last hair was removed, Riley couldn’t think straight. All she wanted was for the pain to end – or to be allowed to cum – or both. The sensations in her pussy had expanded to be the whole of her existence. She was sure she had left a puddle of cunt-nectar on the bed between her legs.
“Now we’re going to flash your cunt with the depilation laser,” said the male officer. “In the past it would take several treatments to prevent hair regrowth, but this is an improved technology. One application of this, and your pussy hair will never grow back again.”
He wheeled over a device, and placed it between her legs. He took some time to orient it, and then flicked a switch.
FLASH.
Riley was aware of a brief sensation of heat between her legs – and then it was over.
“There you go,” said the female officer, idly stroking Riley’s hair. “Your messy patch of pubic hair is gone forever. Isn’t that nice? Now you’ll be smooth and accessible down there forever.”
Riley didn’t care much for her pubic hair either way – but the knowledge that she had been changed forever, to suit the pleasure of men she hated, made her want to wail in despair.
Except she couldn’t, of course. She was still gagged.
“Now,” said the female officer. “Let’s begin the examination of your pussy, shall we?”
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God, I’ve always wanted my cunt hairs plucked one my one, I can’t imagine how painful and demeaning it is