Story: Riley’s Documentation, Part 9

Previous chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight

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Riley didn’t know what to expect from the test of “attitude” – and when she saw the female officer bringing out medical probes attached to electrical leads she became scared.

However, resistance was futile, and she was forced to let the officers apply the probes.  Several went around her head, at her forehead, temples, and the base of her skull.  The others went on her pussy – some on the groin just above her cunt, and others were pushed up into her twat and fixed in place with some kind of adhesive.

“We’re just going to ask your owner here to perform a list of simple interactions with you,” said the male officer.  “In the properly functioning female mind, these will cause you to become aroused, and generate a burst of love and gratitude towards your owner.  If the probes show that response, you pass.  Otherwise you will be placed on the waitlist for attitude readjustment after you leave here.”

“What… what’s he going to do to me?” asked Riley nervously.

“Telling you in advance would spoil the test,” said the female officer patiently.

Tristan rose and stepped towards her.  He had read what he needed to do off a paper that had been handed to him.  

He smiled at her – and then slapped her across the face, hard.

She saw red.  She hated Tristan.  She hated that this was happening to her, and that she was powerless.

“No arousal,” reported the female officer.  “No love.”

Riley couldn’t believe it.  She was supposed to react to being slapped with… a wet cunt?  With *love* for her abuser?

“Can I give her a second chance?” asked Tristan – and before anyone could respond, he slapped her again, grinning as he did so.

Riley felt tears in her eyes.

“No positive response,” reported the female officer.  “Next interaction.”

Tristan smiled, looked at Riley – and then spat on her.  It was a big gob of saliva, and it went right into her left eye.  She recoiled in horror.

“No positive response,” said the female officer again.  “Next interaction.”

Tristan grabbed Riley’s left tit – and then, with his right hand, he hit it as hard as he could.

Riley squealed – but Tristan was already grabbing her other tit, and smashing that with his hand as well.

“No positive response,” said the female officer.  “Last interaction.”

Riley tried to cover her face and tits with her arms – but they weren’t Tristan’s target now.  He swung back his foot – and kicked her in the cunt.

Riley sobbed with pain.

“No positive response,” said the female officer.  “Don’t worry, bitch.  After your attitude correction, you’ll come to love these displays of affection from your owner.”

Riley tried to imagine actively enjoying being slapped and kicked.  The idea that she would see them as tokens of love repulsed her.

“Please,” she begged, not sure what she was asking for – but everyone ignored her, except Tristan.

“I think you’ll look very pretty, orgasming from having your cunt kicked, Kitten,” he said to her.  “And the look of love and gratitude on your face will be quite a thing to see.”

“No,” said Riley.  “Please.  I already said I’d belong to you.  Please don’t let them…”

Tristan turned to the officers.  “Out of curiosity, *is* there any way to get her out of this attitude correction program?”

The officers looked at each other.

“If she performs *extremely* well on the self-degradation tasks,” said the male officer, “and where she has a strong owner prepared to treat her as a woman deserves, we may recommend a dispensation allowing her to defer the correction…”

“What does it take for her to perform well at the self-degradation?” asked Tristan.

“Basically we’re going to be giving the bitch a list of instructions,” said the male officer, “and we’re going to measure how quickly she obeys, and how eagerly and joyfully she obeys.  If she wants a good mark she must do everything we ask without stopping to think for even a second, and she must act like it’s the thing in all the world that she wants to do most.  Any reticence, fear or disgust will count against her.”

“You heard the man, Kitten,” said Tristan.  “I’ve done all I can do for you.  You just have to be a very good little fuckpet when it comes to degrading yourself.  If you can do that for me, and not hesitate for a moment, I can stop you from being trained to enjoy a cunt-kicking.  Is that a deal?”

“Yes, sir,” breathed Riley – and she hated that she was genuinely grateful to Tristan for this opportunity.  And then, because she didn’t want Tristan to change his mind, she added, “I love you so much, sir.  I’m sorry I’m such a stupid cunt.”

“That’s all right, Kitten,” said Tristan.  “Just be a good little fuckpig for the officers now.”

“Remember – obey each instruction without thinking, and with complete enthusiasm,” said the male officer.  “Are you ready?”

Riley shivered.  She wasn’t.  She knew she was going to hate this, as she had hated everything else that had happened to her so far.  But it was bad enough she had signed herself into servitude to Tristan.  The “corrective” courses the officers were describing sounded horrid – and worse still, she was pretty sure that they effectively amounted to brainwashing, aimed at erasing the independent version of Riley who had arrived in this country and replacing it with a slutty, submissive new personality.

She didn’t want that.  She would pass this test.

“Yes,” she said.  “I’m ready.”

The officers smiled – and then the female officer handed Riley a hairbrush.

“Fuck yourself with this,” she said.  “Not the handle.  The other end.”

No thoughts.  Only enthusiastic compliance.

The hairbrush was of the sort with hard plastic bristles.  It was spiky.  It would hurt to push it into her cunt.

Riley didn’t let herself anticipate the pain.  She spread her legs and pushed the hairbrush inside her.

Fuck – it *did* hurt.  So much.  Her only consolation was that each spike ended in a small rounded ball.  It wouldn’t piece or scratch of break her skin.  It just *hurt*.  

She was lucky her cunt was already wet, she thought. 

She looked the officers in the eye and tried to smile as she pumped the painful brush in and out of her.

“Good bitch,” whispered Tristan behind her, and for a moment Riley felt pleased by the praise, before she remembered that she hated Tristan.

“That’s enough,” said the female officer, after a couple of minutes.

Riley gratefully withdrew the hairbrush from her fuckhole and passed it back, pressing her legs together to soothe her tortured twat.

Next the female officer handed her two small metal balls, each a little larger and heavier than a ball bearing.  They were attached to steel clamps.

“Affix these to your nipples,” she said.  “Then begin masturbating with one hand.  While masturbating, jump up and down until the balls come free from your tits.”

Don’t think.  Just comply, and smile.

Riley put the clamps on her nipples.  The clamps hurt all by themselves – and when she let them take the weight of the metal balls she couldn’t help but squeak.  Her tits weren’t meant to support such weight!

But she tried to smile as she reached down and began to finger her pussy.  It did feel good to masturbate – despite everything, she was still sopping wet.

And then – again, without letting herself anticipate the consequences – she began to bounce.

She screamed almost immediately, as the weights pulled down on her tits as she went up, then came up as she went down, and then slammed down again as she hit the ground.  She felt like her nipples were going to be ripped off.  It hurt so much!

She almost couldn’t bring herself to jump again.  But she had to.  She bounced into the air – and screamed again as she came down and the weights jerked against her nipples.

She looked around, and her eyes fell on Tristan.  To her humiliation, he had his cock out, and was masturbating.  He was getting off on her pain and degradation.  

And yet… somehow that made it better.  She wasn’t just hurting herself for no reason.  She was entertaining Tristan.  She was putting on a show, a performance, for his pleasure.  

She turned to face him a little better, and jumped again.  And this time she could see how his cock twitched when the weights yanked at her tits, and she squealed.  There was a direct relationship between her agony and his sexual pleasure.

She felt her cunt throb at the knowledge she was arousing Tristan.  It was a bad cunt, a traitorous cunt. She took her clitoris between her fingers and pinched it, to punish her cunt, but that just made it even wetter.  She heard herself moan.

She jumped, again, and again, each bounce torturing her poor tits – and each bounce pleasing Tristan’s cock.  She found herself jumping faster, and higher…

.. and then finally the jerk on the weights was too much, and she felt the clamps slip free from her nipples, and the weights fall to the floor, and bounce, and roll away.

“Very good,” said the male officer.  “Ready for your next instruction?”

She still hurt from the last one.  She was still idly rubbing her cunt.

“Remember, Kitten,” said Tristan, still masturbating.  With his free hand he was holding his phone, and filming her.  “No thoughts, just obedience.”

“Ready,” she said.

“Piss,” said the male officer.

This one might have made Riley stop – might have made her blush, and balk, and ask whether she really had to.  But some part of her brain had been awakened by her attempt to obey without thinking – a primal part of her that she had cajoled into operation.  An instinctual, animalistic part of her that *wanted* to simply obey, without consciously processing the command.  And it took control now.

She felt her bladder relax, and she began to piss on the floor.

Tristan laughed with delight at her shocked, mortified expression – and laughed harder when they both realised that she was still masturbating, even as she pissed.

Riley wanted to take her hand away, but it wouldn’t move.  It wanted to be rubbing her cunt.  It felt so good to flick her clitoris as she pissed in front of Tristan.   It made her not think about the fact that he owned her – that he was filming her – that she had agreed to be his rape-toy.

And then her bladder was empty, and she was standing in a puddle of her piss.

“Good bitch,” said Tristan, and Riley felt herself once again glow from the praise.

“Next command,” said the male officer.  “Get down on all fours and lick up your mess with your tongue.”

No thoughts.  Not even for this.  Not even for something so horrid…

She might have frozen, but again that part of her that wanted to obey took control.  She found herself falling to her knees, and leaning forward, and beginning to lick up her own piss, like a kitten licking up spilt milk.

It didn’t taste so bad, really.  And it was *her* mess.  She kind of deserved this, didn’t she?

Why was she still masturbating, though?  And why did it feel so good to obey such degrading instructions without thinking?

Well, it would be worse if she thought about it.  Thoughts would only make her unhappy, seeing as she would be forced to do these things anyway.  She was happier if she didn’t think.

Yes, that was it.  Not thinking let her be happier.

She licked up the last of her puddle of piss, and then looked up, looking for new instructions.

The male officer passed her a small tub.  It was full of sticky white substance.

“Semen,” he told her.  “You don’t need to know whose it is.  Push some up your pussy, some up your anus, some into your mouth and swallow it, and rub the rest into your face and tits.”

No thoughts.  Just obedience.  She was happier when she didn’t think.

She stuck two fingers into the tub and pulled out a gob of sperm.  Then she pushed them into her mouth, sucking the semen from them, and swallowing.  It tasted good.  It was a little warm, and a little salty.  She would have been happy to eat more.

Her fingers went back in, and this time when they came out she bent forward and worked them into her anus as best she could, pushing the cum up her butthole.  

Another swipe of semen on her fingers, and this one went into her cunt.  It felt good in there – and despite the fact she hadn’t been told to, she took a second helping of cum and pushed that up there too.  

She didn’t let herself consider that she might be impregnating herself with anonymous sperm.  She didn’t let herself think about anything at all, except how good it felt to push the semen into her twat.

It felt so good, in fact, that she found herself orgasming as she fucked that second load of cum into her womb using her fingers.  Tristan laughed at her as she orgasmed, and that was demeaning, but also it felt good to have pleased Tristan, now that her brain was off, now that she wasn’t letting herself think how she hated him.

Then she was scooping the rest of the semen onto her face and breasts, rubbing it in like skin lotion, It felt nice to rub it across her fuckbags, making them slippery with a man’s sperm.  It felt natural, like how they were meant to be.

And then the tub was empty.

Riley licked her fingers clean and looked up at the officers for approval.

“Very good,” said the male officer.  “One more task.  And once again, you must act on it quickly, without delay, without thinking,”

“I’m ready, sir,” said Riley.

“Good bitch,” said the officer.  “You must come up with an act more degrading than anything else you’ve done today, tell us what it is, and then perform it.”

She instinctively recognised she must say whatever first came into her head.  If she rejected ideas, if she tried to find the “perfect” one, they would see her delaying.  She would fail.

And so she said the first thing she thought of.

“Publish the video Tristan just took on my social media,” she said.  “So everyone who knows me will see it.”

And then she gasped, because she genuinely *hadn’t* thought before speaking – but now she couldn’t help but realise what she had said, and realise how much she *didn’t* want to do that.

It was a video of her pissing while masturbating, and then licking up her piss.  Her friends would see it.  Her former employers would see it.  Her family would see it.  Her *father* would see it.

“Go on, then,” said the male officer.  He offered Riley her phone.

“I’ve sent her the video,” said Tristan.  “It’ll be right there on her phone.”

Shaking with humiliation, Riley took her phone, opened her social media, and stared at it.  

It was a record of the Riley who had existed up until this day – the Riley who had never been raped, or judged on her tit size.  The Riley who had never orgasmed from humiliation and pain.  The Riley who had never licked a strange woman’s cunt, the Riley who had never pissed on command in front of people she hated.

She took the video Tristan had sent her, and uploaded it to her profile.

And then, because she was supposed to be enthusiastic, she added the text, “New skill unlocked!  Had such fun doing this.  It suits me, don’t you think?”

And she pressed “post”.

The male officer took her phone from her, and looked at it.

“Good bitch,” he said.

Then, to the female officer, “She’s done very well at this.  I think, at her owner’s request, we can give her a pass on the corrective course, don’t you think?”

The female officer seemed reluctant, but she said, “If you think so, I can agree to that.”

The male officer nodded, satisfied, and made some notes on his clipboard.

“And now the final test,” he said.  “Don’t worry, bitch, you’re almost done.”

He smiled.

“We just need to test whether you can orgasm from breast pain….”

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