Trouble's
Tale
Punishment
by Kittiara
Stardate 2397.10
Trouble looked around herself in surprise. This is her punishment? This is the horrible fate that awaited her? The room was padded, without a single visible edge. The corners were all curved, as was where the floor and walls, or the walls and ceiling, met. The floor was spongy beneath her bare feet, soft and resilient. It was almost difficult to walk on. High up on three of the walls were ventilation grills, with light coming from behind them; obviously they opened into other rooms, but with her paws bound behind her, there was no way she could pull herself up to try and peer through them. And with the ball gag in her mouth she couldn't call to anyone in any of the other rooms….
Scowling, the Cheetah fem growled to herself; "I have GOT to be missing something here……."
It had been a sin of omission, not commission. As part of her "exam" on customer relations, she'd been told to take care of the Boar. And she had, or thought she had. She'd pampered him, treating him like some sort of god, pretending that he thrilled her, that he was the most exciting male she'd ever met. And she'd gotten him off three times during the exam period… and in three different ways too. And yet her performance had been deemed a FAILURE? In the after-action review, the "professor" had scowled at her, growling that this particular gentlefurr had a thing for anal sex, and not only hadn't she offered that to him, she'd been so "all over him" he hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise, to make his desires known! She'd been faulted for dominating the situation, for "Taking Control," something anathema for those schooling her in the proper behavior of sex slaves. And as a result, she'd earned her first piercing, a visible sign that she'd displeased her instructors. The little gold ring now hung from her throbbingly sore left nipple. And she'd been promised further punishment as well…..
But then the guard had shown her into the p added room, with the instruction to "think about it."
Trouble sighed; even as soft as the floor was, she couldn't find a comfortable position to sleep in. Her arms were pulled behind her, encased in a leather arm binder, her elbows almost touching behind her back. And that made her shoulders hurt. It also made laying on her back impossible. And with the fresh piercing in her left nipple, she couldn't lay on her stomach either. Not comfortably, anyways. Her right side seemed to be the best compromise, but between her aching shoulders and her throbbing nipple, she just couldn't drift off to sleep. As she lay there, she heard something…. Sounds coming from the grille to the left of the door. A shuffling, the sound of cloth moving, a muted murmur, deep and low, and obviously masculine, followed by a higher pitched giggle….
The sounds of lovemaking were starting to get to her.
Trouble shifted on the padded floor, and sighed. It was obvious that next door, the two making love were having a great time, the male grunting as he thrust, the female panting, and moaning, as if he were the best lover ever. Shifting, Trouble imagined what must be happening, occasional pauses in the noises signaling some change in position. As she listened to them, listened to the sounds of their passion, she started to become aroused herself……..
Kneeling on the soft floor, the Cheetah fem looked down, between her breasts at her crotch. Sure enough, her labia were becoming puffy, and she could feel herself becoming wet. Her nipples were already stiffening, something she was painfully aware of, at least as far as her left nipple was concerned….. As the moans and the soft cries filtered through the grill, Trouble shook her head; "Man, their conditioning has really done a number on me….." and as she listened with growing frustration, that thought took her back…..
Trouble looked around curiously as the guards led her by her leash into the small room. It looked for all the world like a medical examining room, with unidentified instruments of various types lining the walls. In the middle was a large chair, similar to a dentist's chair, with the exception that it was all in chromed metal… and in the middle of the seat was a rather large black rubber phallus. And the back of the seat, the lower portion of the back-rest was open; she'd be able to let her tail drape out that opening, but it would also expose her ass…… The Cheetah watched with growing concern as one guard went to a drawer, slid it open and removed a half-full tube of lubricant. As the other guard worked at removing her handcuffs, the first guard proceeded to cover the phallus with a generous coating of the lube…..
Wiping his paws on a disposable towel, and replacing the now even emptier tube of lubricant in the drawer, he turned to Trouble, and with a grin, said, "Okay, Missy, just hop on up on this chair, and we'll get you strapped in all nice and tight."
Trouble felt the other guard's paws on her wrists, still holding her arms behind her back, and her muscles tensed; "You gotta be kidding me! There ain't no WAY I’m going to voluntarily sit on that… THING." The guard behind her chuckled, as he pushed, frog-marching her forward, "Yeah, I thought that's what you'd say. Pretty much what they ALL say….. Wait until tomorrow; bet you don't make NEAR as much of a fuss……" Despite her struggles, the Cheetah fem was maneuvered by the two significantly larger guards, until, with a yeowl, they forced her down into the seat. They were obviously well practiced at the task, and before Trouble could blink, they had her arms strapped to the armrests of the chair… and then straps went around her ankles, and her thighs, holding her legs well spread, affording the guards a good view of where that rubber monster stretched her pussy.
More straps went around her waist, and above and below her breasts….. and snaps connected to the rings on her collar. She was quite immobilized. One of the guards patted her on the head and they both chuckled as they left……
As she waited, Trouble looked around the room. Some of the instruments almost looked like holographic projection equipment… and the space in front of her chair was empty, the wall blank…. Other instruments were less identifiable.
She was twisting around to her left, trying to get a better look at what looked like a computer terminal when the door opened and a chipmunk in a lab coat strode in. He looked at his clipboard, and then at Trouble and then back at his clipboard, and made the typical noncommittal noise medical types make in front of patients…. Putting the clipboard down he picked up a hand-held fur trimmer and turned to face Trouble; "I've got to shave portions of your head, for the electrodes to work properly. Now we can do this the hard way, or the easy way. Personally, I'd recommend the easy way; you'll not look so… bizarre if I can do small, precise spots. But its up to you. Either way, I'll get my job done." As the trimmer buzzed, Trouble tried to hold her head still, wondering what the electrodes would be for… she had the feeling she didn't really want to find out…..
When he'd finished with the razor, the Chipmunk fetched a harness from a hook on the wall. This fit over the Cheetah's head, and the Chipmunk strapped it on TIGHT. While it wasn't all that uncomfortable, Trouble found the dangling wires, and the pricking sensations at various places around her head…. Disconcerting to say the least. It was a while after the Chipmunk left, before the Doctor arrived……
The Coyote wore a starched lab coat, with the name tag Dr. Zachary Smith over the left pocket. The obligatory stethoscope was in one of the lower lab coat pockets and a selection of pens and other devices stuffed in the other pockets. All in all, he looked like the typical, busy physician, and not the least bit sinister…..
"Hello, Ms. Kee, I'm Dr. Smith." The voice was cultured and smooth. As she tried to follow the doctor's motions, Trouble found herself loathing him instantly. Who was this furr, to do things like this to her? The Doctor, for his part, was in the process of booting up the computer terminal, and logging on as he talked. "What we're going to do today, is to start your conditioning….. I'm sure you realize by now that you're destined to be a sex slave, and this will be the very first step in your training. Don't worry, we're not going to wipe your mind and program you with simple, lurid instructions… we find that our …. Products are much more valued if they retain their creativity, and to an extent, their free will. We just want to relieve you of your inhibitions, add a few compulsions, and so forth." The Doctor rambled on, as he checked the leads from the computer to the harness strapped tight to Trouble's head. Finally he nodded and moved to one side of the room, where he started fiddling with some rubber tubing. "In the old days, the techniques used involved things like sleep deprivation, isolation, threats, physical pain, and psychological pressures … incredibly crude techniques. Sometimes they worked, and sometimes they didn't. What we've come up with is something a little more advanced. It’s all based on rewards and punishment, don't you see. By controlling the rewards, and the punishments we can shape your behavior, reinforcing the behavior we want, disposing of the behavior we feel is … counterproductive.
Trouble listened curiously as she watched the Doctor work.
She certainly couldn't think of a way to escape, or of a way to deter him from whatever it was he was going to do …. So she tried hard not to panic, her engineer's mind latching onto the mechanics of what he was doing, as a prop to keep her from loosing it completely …..
The Doctor finished his work with the tubing, and sliding a panel out from the wall, moved a complex assembly over towards Trouble's left shoulder. "Now I'm going to start an IV, and I'm going to use an artery in your scalp, so hold still. Trouble felt a prick where the Chipmunk had shaved a spot on her head, and then she felt the Doctor taping something to the harness … "All Done. What that's for is to administer psychotropic drugs and hormones to your brain. The electrodes in the harness on your head will detect activity in certain portions of your brain. In some cases that activity will be related to compliance with the behavior we wish to reinforce, and the little pump over here will give you something nice …. On other occasions, the electrodes will pick up activity in your brain associated with resistance, and then something else will happen. Something unpleasant, I'm afraid. Now, in order to provide the stimuli, we have this helmet ….. "
Trouble grunted as the doctor started to pull a soft leather helmet over her head, being careful of the IV and of the electrode leads. There was a set of goggles over her eyes, and a hole in the leather for her nose …. But there was a thick rubber plug that filled her mouth, and straps that held her jaws closed Tight around the invader. When the doctor was finished strapping it on, Trouble heard his voice in one ear, "We have earphones installed in the helmet, so you can hear only what we want you to hear. The Helmet cuts off outside stimulus rather nicely, doesn't it? No distractions. Now, lets test the audio and visual stimuli, shall we?"
Trouble blinked as an image formed in front of her eyes. It was as if she was looking into a mirror. She could see herself, strapped into the strange chair, with the Doctor behind her at the computer terminal. He was just sitting there, paws folded in his lap, watching with a neutral expression on his face. As she examined the image, she noticed her right arm was no longer restrained …. And yet she couldn't seem to move it …… After a moment, the Doctor's voice filled her earphones, "I want you to touch yourself. I want you to caress yourself. Stroke yourself for me, Ms. Kee …… " Trouble's growl was muffled by the plug of rubber in her mouth, but what flashed through her mind was "the HELL I will" …. And then suddenly something flashed through her mind. It was like a sudden swift nightmare, more remembered than actually felt, and it was MOST unpleasant …… As she shuddered in its aftermath, she saw her right arm move, seemingly of its own accord, reaching down to her crotch …. To her amazement, as the image showed her fingers brush across her mons she could have sworn she felt the touch ….
And yet she was sure she couldn't move her right arm … could she? For a moment she struggled, and then there was another instant of nameless horror in her mind and she recoiled, the shock forcing back all resistance, letting the sensation of fingers stroking her mons, fingers seeking out her clitty wash in behind the shock, to sooth her savaged mind …… She watched in amazement as the image, so much like her reflection, seemed to mimic the feelings she was receiving … gradually the caresses became more intimate, more passionate, and as the dong in her pussy vibrated to life, she moaned. Chest heaving, her climax seemed to rush at her with freight-train speed, until she was straining against her restraints, howling into the rubber plug filling her mouth, as a powerful climax seized her …..
The Doctor smiled as the Cheetah Fem's chest heaved, as she tried to regain her breath …. "Yes, I think the system's working correctly. See, now, that wasn't so bad … was it?" Unseen by the Cheetah, the Doctor pressed a few buttons on his console, and rising, moved off to his next "patient," the computer taking over the programming. But Trouble never noticed; the image presented to her eyes was suddenly that of a dungeon; a classical dungeon with stone walls, and straw on the floor, and torchlight. She saw herself chained to a coarse wooden pole, the straw on the floor pricking her legs as she kneeled, head bowed submissively. Something whispered in her mind that this was right, that this was the way it SHOULD be, and for a moment she felt really good … satisfied with her condition. The metal cuffs holding her paws together in front of her, the collar, the heavy chain to the post, her nudity, it all felt sooooo right. And then, suddenly, before her was the image of the Coyote, except this time he was nude ….. "Crawl over to me" the Doctor's voice commanded, and for a moment, resentment and rebellion surged through Trouble's mind, only to be quashed by another wave of nameless dread. Each assault was slightly different, and each was horrible enough that all thoughts of resistance were shattered. In the aftermath of this particular wave, Trouble saw herself crawl obediently, if somewhat clumsily over to the Coyote. He grinned down at her, and ran a paw through her hair, a sensation she amazingly could believe she actually felt … and then he uttered a single word, "suck" ……. And then Trouble's mouth was sucking greedily at the rubber plug in her mouth, her tongue stroking it as if it were the Coyote's cock, even as before her eyes, the image of herself leaned forward to take his hard shaft in her mouth …. And as she sucked, she felt an euphoria and an incredible sexual arousal ….. Got to be the IV dripping something into my system … endorphins .. hormones … something, she thought to herself, the thought slipping away almost before it had registered, as she lost herself in the raging lusts suddenly coursing through her body.
Image after image; scene after scene. In each, she was bound, subservient, docile, compliant … and randy as hell. In some scenes she was nude; in some she was dressed in outfits she thought she wouldn't be caught dead in. It all seemed so right …. And in each, she obeyed her instructions, be they from male or female, her resistance rapidly being worn down by the sudden flashes of nameless dread, until it was eradicated completely. Over and over, she went through the scenes of sexual obedience, with each act of compliance rewarded with the feeling of euphoria. Gradually she began anticipating the commands, predicting their needs, and their desires, until they didn't even have to ask ……
Trouble was limp, and panting when the Chipmunk removed the leather helmet, and the head harness; as the rubber plug was pulled from her mouth she moaned softly, her eyes fluttering open. The Chipmunk just smirked at her and proceeded to put all the implements away. By the time the guards came for her, Trouble had regained her breath, but her mind was still fragmented, trying to assimilate all she'd been through. Part of her wondered how she could ever be like they wanted her to be, and another part screamed YES! I WANT it! MORE! The guards had to lift her from the chair, and hold her while she found her feet. For a moment she thought she was going to fall to her knees, and that triggered a memory of one of the scenes, where she'd knelt before the male, sucking him off with relish …. And the thought almost triggered the action; but the guards were firm, making her stand, binding her paws behind her, dragging her out of the room to fasten her to the coffle, the line of slaves moving another dozen feet, to wait, while the guards went into another room, to drag out another limp slave ……
After the day she'd had, the baths were a delight. Sinking down into the steaming hot water, Trouble purrrred, drawing the instant attention of the guard; "YOU! Spots! No Noise or you'll get a taste of my shock stick!" Trouble bowed her head meekly, almost without thinking, and shuddered, the memory of what would happen if she wasn't compliant flashing through her brain. Across the tub, the eyes of the she-wolf tracked the guard's movements, and when he'd moved off a little she whispered, "The conditioning isn't perfect. I know, I know, right now you're full of it, its fresh in your memory, but that'll fade. Some. And I know right now, he's told you not to talk, and I bet you couldn't bring yourself to, if you tried. I'll also bet you won't even try. I know all too well what the treatment's like. Just take heart, it'll fade, a bit, over time, and there are some things you can do, working around the 'edges' ….. he didn't tell ME to be quiet after all ….. " As the guard moved back towards them, the She-wolf fell silent, her eyes averted. When his footfalls had receded, she snuck a quick look and whispered, "by the way, my name's Marla; what's yours?"
Trouble looked at the She-Wolf, and then flicked her gaze at the guard, still meters distant; her mouth opened, but try as she might she couldn't get a word out. Not even a squeak. She was beginning to hyperventilate when she felt someone touch her under the water, and Marla whispered; "Its all right, I understand, really I do. Silly of me to have done that to you. Don't worry, it'll pass. You can tell me later."
Panting hard, Trouble awoke from yet another dream. The scenes from her conditioning were replaying themselves in her mind as she slept …… moaning hard, she thought of the scene, where some unidentified male had told her to use her fingers to spread her labia, to show him the pink of her sex …. And she'd so willingly complied. It disgusted and frustrated her; she didn't WANT to be like that, but couldn't seem to help herself …… And yet, somewhere deep inside her, it thrilled her too …… Without even realizing it, she found her right paw between her thighs, stroking herself. Her pussy was drenched, literally dripping ….. and her fingers felt sooooo good against her heated flesh.
Hearing the approaching footsteps of a guard, she quickly withdrew her paw and rolled over, feigning sleep ….. but as he padded off, she moved her right arm under her body, her paw between her thighs, covertly stroking herself ….. hoping no one would see, praying no one would ever know.
The next morning was filled with dread. Trouble shuffled forward in the coffle, knowing this time where she was headed, knowing what the day would bring. One of the guards had mentioned, teasingly to the slaves in the coffle, that they'd go through over one hundred thousand such scenes, insuring that they were thoroughly indoctrinated ….. And if that was the case, Trouble knew she'd have many more days in that damnable chair …..
The guard, only one this time, released Trouble's paws and gestured to the chair. "You know where the lube is, if you think you need it. Either way, take a seat." Trouble looked at the guard and then remembered she was supposed to keep her gaze down, her head lowered. Moving fast to forestall any rebuke, she yanked open the drawer, retrieved the tube of lubricant and rapidly slathered it over the phallus. Was it larger this morning than it had been yesterday? She could have sworn it had grown in girth and length ….. Replacing the tube she mounted the chair, positioning herself just so, before slowly lowering herself …. Efficiently, the guard strapped her in, and then departed, leaving her alone with her thoughts. When the squirrel came bustling in, Trouble jumped … or would have if she wasn't so tightly restrained. The squirrel set her up as she had been before, with the head harness and its pigtail of electrode leads, the IV in her scalp, and the soft leather helmet with the rubber plug in her mouth and the holo goggles over her eyes. There was no sign of the Doctor, and before she knew it, the visions once again floated in front of her. This time they were pushing the limits of what she thought she could tolerate. Wearing slutty clothes in public …. And then public nudity, and when her resistance to that had been quashed, sex in public ….. sex with more than one partner. Sex acts that she'd never even heard of, much less considered doing … and interspersed with it all were the more "vanilla" flavored things, where subservience and compliance earned her a nice shot of endorphins and a pleasant buzzing of the dong buried in her pussy …. Where willing participation, or even creative thoughts on her part earned her a greater rush, or a more powerful climax ….. By the end of the day she was more or less willingly participating in acts that she'd never imagined …..
The next day, they'd given her a modified helmet; her eyes were still covered by the video goggles, and her ears filled with the earphones … but now her mouth was free …. And the computer was demanding verbal responses from her. She had to call males Master, and females Mistress ….. she had to keep her speech correct, and proper …. And in some cases she had to beg. And then beg creatively. She had to beg to be allowed to suck his cock, or to service him with her body …..
Strangely she found this hardest of all to do, and suffered agonizing wave after wave of terror, or dread, until she finally stammered out what was required of her, wracking her brain for convincing imaginative things to say. By the time the guard came to release the Cheetah, Trouble was thoroughly drained, and shaking.
The bath was heaven. Trouble sank down into it until only her nose and the tips of her ears were above water, letting the heat leach away the soreness from her muscles. She'd never dreamed she could get so sore, fighting the straps that held her immobile. Raising her head just a bit, at an underwater touch, Trouble gazed through the steam at a grinning Marla. She could see the She-Wolf's eyes flick to appraise the attention of the guard, and then flick back to her. "Well," she whispered, "have you gotten around it yet to the point where you can talk?" Trouble's right ear swiveled, tracking the guard's footsteps and she mumbled, "Think…. so. Name's T..Tr.. Trouble." Marla nodded; "Gets easier with practice. Just gotta remember if you're not wired into their gizmo they can't twist your brain if you don't respond correctly. Take your time. There IS hope."
Trouble just nodded, and sank back down into the soothing waters.
Trouble leaned against the wall and smiled to herself.
Those early days here had really been some of the easiest ….. and some of the scariest. The sessions in the chair had gone on for over a week, and by the time they were done, she'd eagerly leapt into the chair, not bothering with the lubricant; she'd gotten wet enough just thinking of the fun to come, of the wild sex and the endorphin rush. The tasks required no longer seemed to matter; the subservience, the degradation, and the begging no longer bothered her.
Whatever it took to get the approval of her Master or Mistress, whatever it took to get her climax…. Finally, on that last day when the helmet was removed, when the guard had released her from the chair, he'd told her to crawl to him and service him with her mouth, and she'd eagerly complied ……
Trouble still had a self-satisfied smirk on her face when she'd settled into the baths. Marla grinned at her from across the water and ostentatiously licked her lips as if signifying that she too had gotten a taste of her guard.
Kayla, the otter, just made a sour face and slipped down underneath the water. As the guard passed by, shock-stick swinging by its lanyard, the girls in the tub did their very best to ignore him, but Trouble found that her eyes were still drawn to the bulge in his loincloth. When he'd passed, Marla leaned forward; "Did your guard say anything to you, when he let you out of the chair?" Trouble just stifled a giggle; "Yeah. Two words. 'Crawl', and 'Suck'."
Marla giggled quietly in return; "No, silly, I mean AFTER that!" Trouble smiled; "No, why?" The conversation lagged, as another guard walked by, his gaze passing over each of the girls in turn. When he'd gone, Marla whispered, "Mine said that I wasn't bad … for an amateur. And that they'd done all they could with that kind of conditioning, and that now skills training would commence. With different incentives. And that if I screwed up, the punishments would be of a different sort, and worse. Much worse." Trouble slid back into the water and pondered; what could be worse than that mind-wrenching electrode and chemical induced terror?
Trouble groaned. There were now sounds coming from the grille on the wall to the right of the door. This one sounded like girl-on-girl …. At least two, maybe three … and again, they sounded like they were having a GREAT time. She was envious. As the female on the left screamed in ecstasy, Trouble groaned and rolled around on the soft floor of the padded room, trying to find some way to rub her dripping pussy, seeking to find SOME stimulation. Kneeling she shifted, seeking to rub her crotch against the back of her right ankle, straining. And while that was better than nothing, it wasn't anywhere near enough …..
"Can't even cover my ears," Trouble moaned to herself. There was now another party going on, the noises floating through the grille opposite the door. Someone was being punished, but they were alternating giggles and howls, their cries interspersed with the soft words of at least two males. In her mind's eye, Trouble could just see the guys alternating feathers and a whip, interspersed with caresses and the application of tongues to sensitive places …… Groaning to herself, the Cheetah rolled about on the floor, her pussy literally dripping. She felt so ….. "left out," so very alone …. Even the attention of the two dominant males would be better than being here, all alone, not even able to touch herself. And as she groaned, she realized that the Academy had succeeded in finding a way to torture her for her mistake. The conditioning was now a weapon to be used against her. I wonder if they've put some chemicals in the air to make me even hotter she wondered idly as the sounds of sex bombarded her mind from three different directions.
"Fifty five, fifty six, fifty seven, fifty eight, fifty nine, Sixty…. Um, lets see, that’s got to be Four hours, thirty seven minutes ….. One, two, three ……" Trouble counted her own heartbeats, her only mechanism for measuring time. Her only distractions from the sounds and the scents bombarding her. Her pulse was loud in her ears, and just a little rapid, she thought, as was her breathing ….. but then considering how aroused she was, how very wet, that wasn't really surprising. The sounds from the other three rooms had continued, almost unabated. Occasionally they would die down, and it was obvious that furrs were leaving, only to be replaced with a fresh group. It seemed like the Academy was running through every permutation and combination of males and females, of every sex act they could think of, just to torture her …. Somewhere, deep within her psyche, Trouble knew it was probably all just recordings, but it sounded so real …. And so inviting, her imagination filled in all the gaps ….. She was sooooooo horny, and had NO way of getting any relief. Squirming around, she tried once again to kneel in a way that would allow her to press her hungry little pussy against the smooth soft floor of the room, seeking to stroke herself against it, and once again failing miserably …
Groaning in frustration, she resumed counting …….. seventeen, eighteen, nineteen ….
Trouble had lost her count three times; she figured she'd been in the room close to 24 hours when the door clicked open, and the guard motioned to her. Her raging lust continued unabated, negated somewhat by her thirst, hunger and the immense pressure in her bladder. As she struggled to her feet, the guard smirked at her; "Learned your lesson?" Trouble mewled into her gag and fell to her knees, to nuzzle at the guard's crotch, nodding enthusiastically.
End of Chapter 2