SHOCKING NEWS

By EDMUNDO SLOTH

PART ONE:GOT YOU!

 

 

 

Sara was rich due not to her own efforts but those of her parents. She was also very

 

attractive but universally disliked as she used people and had won success as a reporter

 

by her hard approach of “publish and be damned”.

 

She worked for a company based in London and had a large office suite of her own.

 

Her colleagues speculated daily about the reasons for this anomaly when in truth they needed only to stop and consider her lack of ethics and lack of underwear on most occasions. Her editor, an unattractive man in his 40’s, had been manipulated without mercy and had found himself at a crossroads in his life. One way had led to certain disgrace and possible jail while the other had led Sara to her office.

Sara gave no regard to the office gossip and enjoyed the envious glances given to her palatial surroundings by the others that were obliged to work along side her, working with her proving too stressful for most.

Indeed, her co-workers spent many idle coffee breaks discussing her behaviour and plotting ways in which they could bring her down. This speculation, carried out in open gleeful half-hours had led the rest of the department to bond with the unusual benefit of less than normal bickering and greater than normal production, facts that constantly baffled the company Time and Motion specialist right up to the point where his time had been cut short and his motion directed out through the door.

On one particular day Sara was lounging in her chair when she noticed a newly-posted e-mail on the office network. She was not one to look at such mundane things as a rule but the title “Corruption in the sun” caught her eye. She considered herself well due a holiday somewhere warm so logged on to the system.

Sara’s interest was immediately caught by the attached pictures of lush greenery and clear blue sea. She totally missed the point of the article that compared the beauty of the country with the terrible ugliness of the ruling political dictator and his methods. Had she paused for a moment to read the text she would have given the whole project second thought. Sara however had difficulty giving most things her first thoughts so typed her name absentmindedly in the “Agree and apply” box at the end of the assignment report. With her mind set firmly on sun sand and anything else of equal pleasure she clicked “send” and stretched back in her chair.

News of her rapid assignation to the story spread rapidly around the office. Sara was pleased at the waves this had created and was incapable of questioning the underlying reason for the interest. She assumed that it was jealousy that caused the chatter and failed to listen to the tone of the voices. Had she have done so, she would have been a little alarmed to hear that that her peers were actually concerned for her as they had read the article and grasped it’s implications. This concern quickly evaporated when Sara flounced through the canteen loudly commenting on the pale skin of several of the girls and assuring them that she would soon be back with a good all-over suntan.

That afternoon the tea break lasted longer than normal as one of the office juniors read aloud a magazine article about the horrors of swimming in leech- and parasite-infected waters. Low chuckles were heard as the connections were made with Sara. Another girl suddenly laughed and pointed to an odd advert in her own magazine. Her reaction was met with confusion until she explained her idea. The entire group broke down in loud laughter once they grasped the plot.

“Go on and tell her! It’s your idea!” Said one of the older women.

“Ok, I will!”

The junior tucked the magazines under her arm and walked to Sara’s office. She knocked on the door and was admitted by a very surprised Sara.

“I,er,I read these...and thought of you!”

Sara looked at the first offering, the warning about swimming in the wrong waters. She frowned as she read then looked up at the youngster standing in front of her.

“Oh-that’s really great! Spoil my holiday why don’t you?”

“But look at this...”

Sara snatched the glossy magazine and looked astounded at the advert on the page.

“What the hell is this?” Sara demanded.

“Do you think I’m a pervert or something? That is disgusting! I have never...” She tailed off.

“Oh! I get it! Hey, thanks a lot, kid. You can go”.

Had Sara seen the smirk on the girl’s face she may have amended her opinion. Sara was too busy surveying the full-page advert of rubber and latex wear to notice. The suggestion of a problem that could ruin her holiday had been supplanted by a solution.

Sara was far too self-centred to realise that the departed girl was having a good laugh at her expense and it was simply not in Sara’s nature to imagine herself as the butt of a joke. She had been led to consider a ridiculous idea and being a person who would act without pause Sara gathered her coat and handbag and called down for a taxi.

The ride to the Fetishwear shop was brief. Sara had never ventured to that particular part of town and was intrigued by the old warehouse buildings that had been modernised and filled with companies selling many different products. The shop that she was after was at the back of the largest warehouse and it was quiet as she went into the gloom.

She was met with racks of gleaming clothing and her nose was filled with the smell of rubber, an odour that she found agreeable if unusual. A women of about thirty appeared from behind one of the racks. “Good afternoon, would you like some help or are you OK just to look yourself?”

This was an invitation that Sara couldn’t resist.

“Ah, as it happens you can help me. You see, I’m going off to South America somewhere and I’ve read about these nasty things that can swim up your, er, openings-do you follow me?”

The assistant, used to dealing with all kinds of customers, didn’t hesitate.

“Good god yes. What a horrible thing! What a risk!”

She actually had no conception of where the conversation might lead but looked forward to a sale no matter what.

Sara was gratified.

“So glad you follow me. So then, what do you have in, say, pink?”

“Pink? Pink what exactly?”

Sara looked annoyed and snapped “Pink panties you fool! I want to stop those things from crawling up into me! And while you’re about it, matching bras as well!”

The women sighed and mentally put Sara into the rich but barking mad category. She thought for a moment and then, asking Sara to be patient, disappeared into the dark depths of the shop. She returned carrying a large dusty box. She cleaned off the worst of the dust and opened it.

“Old stock. Still good, mind!  This came in some years back from Germany. The legs and waistband are thick rubber bands and so will provide a good seal to keep things out.”

To herself she thought “And a lot of moisture in! Does this woman realise how hot and sweaty these will be in a hot climate! Someone should tell her! Not me, though!”

Sara regarded the sealed packages.

“Open them up! I want to try them on.”

 

“That will be difficult…they fit well around the more intimate areas and I’m sure that Madam wouldn’t appreciate trying on an already worn garment..?”

Sara paused. “No problem. I’ll take the whole box full, for a good discount of course as its old stock. Shall we say £100?”

The sales assistant agreed, glad to offload the unwanted heavy box and its contents. She wasn’t precisely certain of what the box held but was sure of its weight and sure that she would be glad to see it gone. Also, for 10% commission she would be glad to see Sara gone as her strange reason for wanting the gear seemed weirder than she was used to and in this line of work things did get really weird!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

PART TWO:

GRIPPED.

Sara took the box home by another cab. She had the driver carry the box into her flat then gave him a pound tip. He gave her a tip in return that Sara dismissed as difficult and most unhygienic.

She removed all of the sealed bags from the box and opened them in turn. She was pleased that her investment proved so useful as each of the bras, the various styles of knickers and the one-piece suits had clearly been designed with her problem in mind. Each had thick, wide rubber bands at the openings to provide a near-perfect seal for the wearer. Once Sara had a plan in mind no amount of consideration would take her off track. She never once stopped to think about the wisdom of her choices or the possible ramifications. In this case most people would have equated sealed rubber with misery in a hot climate. Sara congratulated herself on her bargain and decided to try on some of the items.

She started by stripping off her day clothes and folding them. She surveyed herself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom and was pleased with what she saw. She was five foot six inches tall, slim but with rather large buttocks and breasts. This hadn’t seemed to matter to her boyfriends as she was well-toned and solid. She often wished that she was blond, not brunette but would not dye her hair, preferring instead to keep it in peak condition and long.

She picked up the nearest pair of rubber panties, for that was exactly what they were-pink and feminine and quite small but heavily pleated to allow for the waist- and leg bands.

She pulled them on and was enchanted by their touch, smooth and cool. The noise they created was also seductive and she felt captivated by their grip once they were in place around her hips. She tried to insinuate her fingers under the leg bands but the bands were the right tightness, comfortable but a snug fit. The shiny material looked good on her, she thought as she reached for a matching bra. This was a size too small and squeezed her breasts quite thrillingly. They appeared to be made of solid rubber themselves, so tightly were they held. Sara liked the feeling and walked through her flat to the bathroom, finding the touch of the panties disgustingly erotic. By the time she started to run her shower she could feel them becoming moist on the inside from her own arousal. She shuddered and slipped into the shower stall, allowing the warm water to cascade over her body. She looked down and could see her new bra and panties becoming wet and even more glossy

 She showered for a good ten minutes moving around as much as the shower would let her. She bent right down in an effort to break the grip of the rubber but in vain. All she could feel was her own wetness and not one drop of water penetrated her protection. Really delighted with herself she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, reaching for a huge fluffy towel as she did so. She dried herself and feeling tired decided to go to bed. It wasn’t until she was nearly asleep when she realised that she was still wearing the rubber. “This feels so good” she thought as sleep overtook her.

As the alarm woke Sara she was aware that she had dreamed something incredibly stimulating. The sudden shock of realisation that she actually was wearing the tightest, slickest underwear triggered a powerful climax. Ashamed, she climbed out of her bed and returned to the bathroom where she tugged off the clinging rubber and showered once again, this time missing the feelings from the previous night. She promised that she would reward a good day by another session that evening.

That day passed by slowly. Sara couldn’t figure out why her young advisor had suddenly excused herself during Sara’s account of the shopping trip and had run down the hallway shrieking manically. Sara put it down to the poor girl’s time of the month although experiencing uncontrolled mirth hadn’t featured prominently in Sara’s own cycle.

The best part of the day had been her briefing on the forthcoming foreign trip. Sara ignored all of the factual parts as they bored her and concentrated on hearing what she believed were the best bits. These were few but she paid this little heed. She did firmly believe that she was instructed to maintain secrecy during the trip and not reveal the name of her employer. A misunderstanding that was to later prove to be a mistake.

When the time finally arrived for Sara to go home she rushed out of the office and impatiently travelled on the tube. The journey seemed endless.

Once home she repeated the strip of the previous evening and tried on a pale blue one-piece outfit that resembled a swim suit. The thin rubber clung to her smoothed out her natural lines emphasising some curves but hiding nothing, a peculiar suction effect even causing the rubber to gently enter her labia and anus driving her mad with desire as it did so. This was going too far! She slept naked that night but awoke grumpy and troubled. She had missed that touch in the night so instead wore rubber underclothes to work. That day passed by in a haze. She couldn’t walk straight and kept on wriggling around on her chair like a five year old who knew no better. Sara lost track of the number of times she came that day and went home totally exhausted.

 

 

 

PART THREE:

COVER STORY

The time came for Sara to fly out on her assignment. She enjoyed flying and always up rated her seat at her own expense to business class. The flight was good and she arrived in a state of high excitement that had as much to do with her underwear as with the truly exotic surroundings in which she found herself.

The formalities of passport control proved easy and Sara was shortly on her way to the hotel. She checked in, again ensuring that her well-funded credit card bought her one of the best rooms. She was actually very good at her job as she had no hesitation in bulldozing her way past obstacles and people to arrive at the version of the truth that would best suit her employers.

She had been given a list of contacts who could help her with this particular job. The underlying drift of her brief was to uncover as much information as possible about the building of a grand new sports stadium, funded at huge cost in the face of poverty of the average citizen.

Sara telephoned for some hours, eventually meeting with a native-speaker who said that he could indeed take her to the new building site the following day. Sara had been flattered by his attention and with her mind on other things as usual she had failed to notice his eyes fastened on her breasts. He could see through her blouse as the heat had caused the sheer material to stick to her and as she had neglected to wear her bra as she had to admit that the temperature was a bit too high for such a garment. She did find that the feeling she got from sticky knickers was far from unbearable however and had continued to wear them.

The arrangement between the two was that Sara would be picked up from the hotel the following morning and taken by car to the inland site.

The car duly arrived, its air-conditioning working at full output. Sara had selected the one-piece rubber swim suit and had worn a sarong over it. The effect was amazing and the driver found it difficult to keep on watching the road ahead and instead kept on looking in the rear-view mirror at Sara’s firm breasts straining under the shiny thin stretched material. Beads of sweat ran down her neck and streamed down the suit. The guide, also fascinated by her and her strange choice of clothing, asked about it. Sara told him about the article she had been given and how she wished to avoid creeping things from getting to her. The two men glanced at each other but said nothing.

They drove on through dense semi-jungle along dirt tracks until mid-afternoon. There ahead of them Sara could see an immense man-made clearing where distant machines toiled in the sun light.

She instructed the driver to stop and got out of the car, reeling slightly from the blast of heat that met her. She took her camera out of her bag and walked towards the site, filming as she went. She used both the still and video modes to gain a clear picture of the work being undertaken. Sara had no training in architecture or building but was puzzled by what she saw. Why, she thought to herself, why was there so much work going on underground? Why would a sports stadium need such facilities?

She moved on, completely absorbed in her work. She didn’t notice that the car had turned and gone and didn’t hear the jeep come up behind her. She yelped as strong arms encircled her and lifted her into the back of the jeep. A rough hood was forced over her head and she felt handcuffs secure her to the canvas and metal seat. The jeep roared off, Sara bouncing around in the back.

The drive was quickly over and the jeep sped down a ramp into the cool depths of the new structure. It stopped and Sara was taken into a room where she was released. She blinked in the lights and looked around. She was in an opulent office being watched by a dark-haired man sitting behind a large desk. He smoked a cigar as he spoke to Sara, the smoke eddying away in the cold blast of refrigerated air from the ceiling-mounted air conditioners.

“So, my dear, what do you think you are doing here?”

He spoke to Sara but was clearly focused on watching the cold air making her nipples try to push through her suit.

Sara started to explain about her assignment but was cut short.

“You clearly have no idea who I am. Let me introduce myself. I am the ruler of this little country. And you are about to tell me who you work for!”

Sara became wary, remembering the briefing she had been given.

“I am afraid that I can’t tell you that! Anyway what do you mean by treating me like this?”

“Come now” He said. “I’m sure that you can give me some idea, at any rate I already know quite a lot about you from one of my operatives who brought you here!”

Sara started to explain that she was on a job, but couldn’t give any more details as it was confidential.

“That makes for a great cover story” The dictator replied. At this, Sara suddenly perked up believing that she could see what was happening. Of course! This man planned to sell his story to another agency but she wanted her name on the cover! She had visions of full-colour pictures of her on every news stand in Britain!

“I’m not revealing any more” Sara snapped unaware that the cold air was shrinking the suit and showing off far more of her than she knew.

The man sighed and called quietly into an intercom. Seconds later, the door opened and a middle-aged woman appeared. She appeared to be out of the 1950s with her outfit and thick-rimmed glasses. Her hair was tied in a tight bun.

“Hello there!” The woman said, holding out her hand to Sara, “I’m Nanny, how do you do?”

Sara stared.

“Now then Tomas. What seems to be the problem?”

Nanny sat herself in a chair next to Sara.

“Well, Nanny, this young woman refuses to tell me who she works for. I really want to know so perhaps you can talk to her”

Nanny leant across to Sara. She frowned.

“You know, my dear, that Nanny is used to dealing with naughty children. Please stop being awkward and tell Tomas whatever it is he wants to know. If you don’t I’m rather afraid that I shall have to punish you. And…” She added “You won’t like that!”

Sara stared then laughed.

“Are you for real? You can’t threaten me like this!”

Nanny’s face turned pale and she turned to Tomas.

“Have her taken to my little room, please. I’ll deal with her there!”

 

PART FOUR:

THE BOTTOM LINE.

 

Sara was lead away by two large and intimidating guards. She was escorted to a room along a long corridor and led inside. The room was clearly used as some sort of medical centre and contained various metal-framed chairs, tables and stands. Sara couldn’t figure what half of them were for, but had an idea that she might be finding out.

Nanny appeared and gestured to Sara to sit in one of the chairs. Sara sat.

“You are a very ill-mannered young lady! I’ve heard nothing but bad reports about you. You have a simple choice. After I’ve finished with you, you will either have told me what Tomas asked you to or I shall call for our Doctor to visit you. I shudder to think what you’ll make of him!” She paused a moment “But judging from your dress sense you do have something in common”

Sara was confused. Surely she wasn’t ill? She sat upright and indignantly told Nanny exactly what she thought of her. She also told her what she thought about Tomas.

Nanny’s reaction was instant. She had the guards drag Sara over to one of the frames. They removed all of her clothing, save the blue suit. This clearly interested Nanny who watched as Sara was strapped over the frame, black leather straps holding her bent over, her rubber-covered bottom held high and prominent.

Nanny ran her hands over Sara’s backside, feeling and smoothing the rubber as she did so.

“This is an amazing suit!” Nanny enthused “Why on earth do you choose to wear such a thing in this climate?”

Sara once again went through her explanation. Nanny mused over the leeches and the possibilities of them invading the bound girl’s body. For some reason she didn’t laugh but became quiet and thoughtful.

“OK then. I believe you. I shall now ask you again to tell me who it is you really work for. If you don’t, I shall have to introduce you to my slipper and my cane. This old slipper has seen much heavy service and I can assure you is far more effective than it looks. When applied to a nice, round bottom like yours it can be most persuasive. The cane is even more painful and I only use it in extreme circumstances. It will be of great interest to me to observe the results through this thin layer of rubber as I can see every detail of your body outlined! I wonder if the weals will show up so well?”

Sara let out several expletives. Nanny advanced, the slipper in hand.

Sara had never been spanked as a child, which was a pity. She could have grown up as a far more decent adult if she’d have learned a few good lessons. She was aware that the door opened and Tomas entered. Obviously the two guards were reluctant to miss the show and Tomas gave them permission to stay and watch.

Sara clenched her behind and waited. Nanny was pleased to see it as it meant for increased effect when leather met rubber over flesh. The slipper slammed down. Sara couldn’t believe the profound sting bottom and gasped. Her cries grew more urgent as the minutes passed. Her bottom seemed to swell and the searing pains grew as the tight rubber suit pressed onto her skin. The three men watched in great excitement at the change, commenting to each other at the redness spreading out from under the tight leg bands.

“Watch and learn” Murmured Tomas to his guards. “This is what moulds the British upper classes! A pity then that Sara never had the benefit of such an education. It does appear that Nanny is intent on catching up with lost time and teaching her, though!”

Nanny indeed was working well. Settling into a steady rhythm she slippered Sara without mercy until the girl howled for her to stop.

The three men and Nanny crowded around Sara, looking in detail at the girl’s punished rear. Sara had never felt so humiliated or, she admitted to herself, so randy. The burning raged in her bottom but blazed inside her and she knew that inside her suit she had thoroughly wet herself.

“So! What have you to say for yourself?” Demanded Nanny, breathing heavily.

Sara said nothing but shook her head.

Nanny had no need of a rest, despite her appearance. She marched over to a cabinet on the wall and fetched out an extremely pliable long cane. She positioned herself, drew a deep breath and swung.

There was an incredibly loud crack, followed by a high scream from Sara.

“Count these Missy!” Growled Nanny “If you don’t or if you miss one I’ll start again! I intend to stripe you twenty times-so count”

Crack. “Ow! Shit! Two…”

And it went on. Sara refused to say anything of value, just ow! and ah! as she counted.

Tomas and the guards marvelled at her resilience and studied her bottom under the increasingly tight grip of the blue rubber. The tram lines so typical of a caning showed up perfectly through the second skin. Sara was writhing and bucking to the limit her bonds would allow her and not only to try and reduce the fierce stinging pain. She also wanted to reach an impossible climax but couldn’t get there and cried in frustration.

“Twenty! Bloody hell! Shit and bollocks! Sod the lot of you! My arse hurts! Let me go, you bastards!”

Sara grew angry and bold in her intense disappointment. She had a terrible itch that she couldn’t scratch and it drove her nearly insane.

She was allowed up. She stood in front of the others furiously rubbing her behind like a well-punished sixth-former, most of her dignity gone. The rubber seat of her suit slithered and slid over her buttocks on a layer of her juices and her erect nipples danced under the suit.

“I’m not telling you anything now!” She yelled, as if she had already said enough.

“You can all go and piss into the wind! Which reminds me-I want a piss and I want it now!”

Nanny looked at Sara in amusement. “Have you learned nothing, girl? Don’t you realise that it is we who give the orders? You are the one who will do what we say-if not now, then very soon!”

Tomas spoke. “Nanny is correct. There are a number of things that I wish to know. It is now obvious that you are not going to crack easily, which is a pity. Nanny is a lamb compared to our good Doctor and if I have to give you to him you can be assured that this little session will seem like a tea party in comparison. Sara-be a good sensible girl and tell me now and I’ll let you pee and have Nanny tend to your bum. Refuse and You will regret it!”

PART FIVE:

THE DOCTOR CALLS.

Sara wasn’t allowed to relieve her bladder nor the aches in her nether regions. She was instead tied to an overhead beam by her wrists and left, wriggling like a fish on a hook.

The door was eventually opened by a tall thin man dressed in a white shirt with black trousers, both made from latex.

He surveyed Sara paying particular interest to her suit.

“They tell me that you wear this suit to keep things out.” He said quietly.”Has it ever occurred to you that it will also keep things in?”

He moved over to a stainless steel trolley and removed a bulky bundle from its lower shelf. He placed the bundle on top of the trolley then wheeled it over to Sara. She watched as he unwrapped it and Sara could see and hear that it was a latex sheet wrapped around various small objects. The Doctor carefully arranged the objects on the smooth red sheet. There appeared to be about twenty of them, each with a “tail” of black spiral-wound plastic. The last one was considerably longer and thicker.

“Are you intrigued to know what these are/” Asked the Doctor.

“I don’t know and I don’t bloody well care! I’m bursting here! Let me down!”

That was as far as Sara got. The Doctor moved quickly and looped a bit-gag over Sara’s head. As she paused and opened her mouth to speak again, he pulled it between her teeth and fastened the strap behind her neck.

Sara made several efforts to dislodge it and succeeded only in making soft, muffled sounds in her throat.

The Doctor took one step back then smacked his hand hard across Sara’s already sore bottom. She squealed, but quietly.

“Shut up, you stupid cow! When you’re supposed to talk, you don’t. That option is now closed to you for some while. I am going to prepare you for a most painful procedure. I shall continue until I feel that you are ready to talk when asked and otherwise stay silent”

He untied her arms and roughly pushed Sara over to an operating table. She discovered that he was far too strong for her to resist and reluctantly allowed him to strap her down on her back, legs apart and her arms over her head. The table was hard against her bottom and it hurt.

He angled the head of the table down with a whirr of motors. He turned back to the trolley and wheeled it over. From another shelf he took a pair of black latex surgical gloves and pulled them on. He leant across the table and pushed two fingers under the crotch of Sara’s suit. There was just enough give in the suit for him. Satisfied, he turned to the strange objects on the trolley and picked one up.

“You have an aversion to leeches I believe. A pity as these high-tech inventions of mine could accurately be referred to as “leeches” They are capable of limited movement and can be guided to a specific place. To make their way easily they emit a thin film of jelly. They trail a cable that is connected to a central control box. When they arrive at their destination they use suction to cling on then clamp down with tiny sharp little metal teeth.”

The Doctor held the leech up for Sara to see.

“Oh, and by the way, they will be burrowing their way to some rather intimate and tender parts of your body under that fetching suit of yours. I have already made sure that you are wet through under the rubber and I would imagine that once you feel them crawling over you, as you are stretched out helplessly you will probably help them on their way by pissing yourself! When they do all suck down on you, I’ll let loose the larger one-the butt slug! Guess where that one goes!”

Sara stared at him, her eyes wide. Could he really mean to do it? Her head followed him as he fetched a large syringe.

He caught her watching him and chuckled “Don’t worry, this is not meant for you! I need to fill up the leeches with jelly and activate them. Now watch!”

In turn, he lifted each construct and injected it with jelly from the syringe. When each was full, the Doctor used a permanent marker on the inside of Sara’s thighs. He told her that these marks would be a reference point for the computer program and that the leeches would navigate to pre-determined parts of her body. He left her field of view and she could hear him switch on the computer. In addition some other piece of electrical apparatus hummed noisily into life.

He scanned her entire body after ensuring that additional straps held her virtually immobile. After typing instructions for a considerable period of time, during which Sara came closer and closer to losing control of her bladder, he carefully placed a leech on the mark on her left thigh. He entered a command into the computer and the leech twitched. It seemed to gather itself before moving in small jerks down towards Sara’s crotch leaving a trail of jelly as it did so.

Sara couldn’t see the leech but felt it’s every move. It reached the barrier of her suit and undaunted by the taut rubber nosed its way under with powerful convulsive movements. It felt horrible and Sara couldn’t imagine where it was headed. Once inside the suit its progress accelerated as it slipped over her slicked skin, pulling the spiralled cable behind it. The cable passing under the leg band made a rhythmic slapping sound.

The Doctor was highly delighted at the success of his invention telling Sara that this was its first trial. The leech continued across her stomach and rib cage before climbing her left breast. It moved slowly but with clear purpose. The Doctor followed its movement and watched the involuntary stiffening of Sara’s nipple as the leech approached, the rubber ballooning as it did so. Sara tried to move. She tried to speak to assure the Doctor that she was ready to tell him anything if he’d only remove the horrid thing from her. The leech reached her nipple. It sucked itself down and latched on with wickedly sharp little teeth. Sara flooded her suit with hot piss just as the Doctor had predicted. 

The Doctor activated one after another of the leeches. Sara had them fastened to each nipple as well as four around each breast. Several found their way to her lower stomach and others nipped down on her vaginal lips and one agonisingly between that opening and her back passage.

Once in position the leeches didn’t stop moving but slowly renewed their suction and the grip of their teeth. Sara had long forgotten the sting in her bottom, the leech-infected parts creating sharp bursts of pain.

The last leech finally clamped on. The Doctor held out the last one. ”The butt slug!”

This one moved far faster than the others and had no difficulty slipping under the leg bands that were by now providing no seal at all as they were bulging with cables.

It slithered to her arsehole and started to invade her tight sphincter, sending out squirts of jelly ahead to ease its way in. Sara gave up fighting and relaxed, allowing it easy passage. This hurt a lot less and the slug breached her effortlessly.

She lay there panting and whining through her gag. The Doctor spoke “And now the painful bit!” “What!?” Thought Sara “Then what the hell does he think this has been?”

He keyed in some new instruction to the computer and stood back to watch, his arms folded.

The hum of the auxiliary equipment cycled up. With a crackle a series of powerful electric shocks stabbed into Sara through the leeches. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. The computer delivered the charges in differing strengths to random locations and she felt spasms in her body, rolling her from side to side despite the straps.

The first episode ended. Before Sara could catch breath the next series of shocks started this time centred on the slug in her butt. She bit down on her gag and tears streamed down her flushed face. To her amazement Sara found herself riding the pain and using it to reach orgasm after orgasm, a fact that greatly amused the Doctor.

Strange to say, once the initial trial of the leeches was over, Sara volunteered to undergo further tests.

She has quit the news agency and now provides Tomas and the Doctor with hours of playtime, her own inventiveness outstripping them both. She dresses in nothing other than latex and has an arse as red as a baboon most days.

She has started assisting the Doctor with his research and looks ravishing in her frilled latex nurse’s uniform. The queue for treatment does however remain small. But it does exist…