Family Matters Ch. 15 - Sex Stories

Family Matters Ch. 15

The next minute as she proceeded down the corridor was the longest in her life. Nurse did not rush her, but kept her moving with an occasional slap of the leash on her back.

Past a door marked "Conference" and a heavier one labeled "Cold Storage". They stopped at the third, "Termination & Dissection".

The moment approached that she had dreaded ever since she asked her husband to make her a slave. She knew it would come to this someday - everyone told her - but she was not ready for it. She expected to be sold at today's market to a wealthy man or a brothel and spend years in service, not to be dismembered before sundown.

But this was what she bargained for when she became a chattel; she must obey her owner. Her mind understood and accepted her fate even as her body shrank from it.

She began to tremble and cry as the woman opened the door. And somehow - she did not know why - it excited her to know her end was growing near. She entered the room.

It was larger than she expected. In the center was an operating table covered with some gray metal; zinc probably.

So wide, and mounted on a massive pedestal. At first she did not understand. Then she remembered her ex-husband's first wife, sold to Patricia who fattened her up for sale. They would need a wide sturdy table to hold her. She briefly imagined the massive woman hoisting herself on the table to be tied down and stripped like a whale of her blubber.

At one end of the room was a mirror; no, it was a ...

... window for an audience on the other side to view the procedure. She wondered who was seated behind it to enjoy the show and watch her final moments. Perhaps they rated girls on their performance.

Buckets of different colors freshly washed and ready to receive her stood on the floor, neatly labeled: brain, liver, breasts, vagina. She wondered why the last one was blue; surely it should be pink for the most feminine of a girl's organs.

On a wall was a rack with knives of all sizes, from small for close work - severing ligaments or boning, perhaps - to one that was almost a sword. Next to them was a rack of saws. On another was a stack of large metal trays for her limbs. She took it all in with wide eyes.

Nurse released her bracelets; she knelt, kissed the woman's hands and got up on the table.

She wanted any watchers to see how meekly she went, soft and gentle without the slightest resistance, in honor to her masters' training. She hoped the boy Arnold was there; she would try to make him proud of his stepmother.

Faith lay on her back as Nurse fastened her wrists and ankles down to the table. To prevent wriggling, she remembered.

She reveled in the beauty of her surrender: bound hand and foot naked on a table. Her dream when she first saw the handcuffs in her husband's bureau twelve months ago had come true.

Nurse picked up a whetstone and began to sharpen one of the knives; medium size, about that of a steak knife. The sound reminded Faith of her husband ...