Copyright (c) 2017,   madvlad.  ALL Rights Reserved

Date of first publication in Mr Double's Palisade :
Monday, August 28, 2017

This story may be downloaded by Palisade members uniquely for their private use, and 
may not be distributed for profit or posted to newsgroups or other websites.  Mr Double 
may be contacted by emailing mrdouble@mrdouble.com.

A Palisade Author story from MrDouble's archive, 
Filename: express2.txt
http://www.mrdouble.com

story_codes: MMM+/g(8), rape, conditioning, semi-cons

story_intro: As she is shipped to a customer in near-sensory deprivation state, Naomi is kept company by the memories of her rape training. What she has gained in her new existence only comes that the cost of herself.


story_language: English




Express Delivery, part 2: In Transit

Written by madvlad


	It was dark inside and soundproofed. She was aware of movement as the crate was transferred from one place to the next, but it remained in the proper position so that she was facing...up?

	It was hard to tell as she was secured with cushioning that kept her immobile and rendered her sense of gravity almost nil. The air pumped into the mask that covered her nose and mouth was pure, blocking any taste or smell she might have clung to. They had put a needle in her arm but she no longer felt it as it dripped nutrients into her bloodstream. The cushioning surface was felt-like and had been luxurious when she was placed inside days ago.

	Had it been days? Or was it hours? Or weeks?

	But now it was all she could feel on her naked skin and so she felt no contrast and eventually nothing at all. Just like her sense of passing time - surrounded by it and knowing nothing.

	She had felt things before. Like when the first man took her. She remembered the chilling bite of snow on her back and buttocks as he took her in the snow. And then the red-hot pain as he ripped into her innocent body, making her believe she was going to die. But she didn't. Instead, there was that huge thing, hard and hurting, moving inside of her. Inside - she never could have imagined that before.

	She felt his presence pressing against her in there, widening the place she was suddenly learning about and making her bloated there. He kept moving, pounding her, making her aching tissues burn and on the verge of breaking apart. 

	But she held together and received the thick bursts of slime in her body that meant he was done. Done for the first time.

	My name is Naomi.

	She reminded herself of this in her dark, unfeeling place as her mind floated.

	The first man hadn't used her name, had he? None of the rest did. But it was her name and she was desperate to keep it.

	Not like her clothes. 

	"You won't need any clothes anymore," he had said to her.

	And he was right. 

	The others didn't let her have clothes anymore. And she learned that she didn't have her body anymore, either. It belonged to them. 

	My name is Naomi. My body is not for me, it's for others. My name is Naomi.

	They had touched her chest, pleased with the flatness there.

	Of course she was flat, the girl had thought at the time. She was only eight years old. Men liked women with big boobs but why were they so enthralled with her boy-like torso?

	She wasn't a boy between her legs, naturally. They liked that place, too, touching it and poking it. Back when she owned her body, she had called it her kitty or her privates. To them, it was a pussy or a cunt. And they loved how it was completely hairless.

	She had wondered why anyone would have hair on their kitty. It was almost silly, really. It would have been under different circumstances. 

	But they had things to do with her kitty. Her privates. Their pussy and their cunt. They had spread their legs and took turns with her there. The room had no windows and she had no reference of time as men forced their way into her, making her stretch inside as they pounded their cocks (another word she learned well) into her. The stuff they squirted inside of her made her constantly slippery and easier to use. 

	Her tiny hole was violated again and again. An eight year-old trapped among men who savaged her small body for their pleasure, pumping their hot jism into her. It lasted for...

	My name is Naomi. I don't know what time it is. I don't know what day it is. My name is...Naomi.

	They called it rape. They did it a lot even if she didn't know if it was day or night. It was always time for a man to work his prick inside her aching kitty, having fun sliding through the clenching, rape-slimed tunnel of her immature sex. Before or after, they liked to finger the bald little mound that brought them so much pleasure.

	She had cried a lot and even struggled when small reserves of strength became available. They told her she was nothing but a rape puppet. But she had a choice.

	My name is...Naomi and I don't want to be a rape puppet.

	She could submit, not resist. And she could do things to make it better for them. And they would make it better for her. 

	They were gentler with her, while they plumbed the tiny recesses of her eight year-old cunny. She learned to move her hips and twist her body to enhance their pleasure. Every wad of semen that shot into her became a mark of success. And they did things to her; strange things in the place between her widespread thighs that made her want more.

	She learned about cumming.

	My name is...Naomi and I like to cum. I like to cum and cum a lot. My name is...is...Naomi.

	She learned how to use her mouth. And she learned the taste of the stuff they had squirted in her privates all of those times. 

	There was a new taste on a man's cock and it was already wet when he put it in her mouth. And the girl learned what she tasted like in that place between her legs. That place that used to be her privates. The men liked having her flavor on their cocks when they fed them into her mouth.

	And her throat. She couldn't taste them in her throat but she felt them. It was scary when they did it but she learned to hold her breath. She had wanted to throw up but learned how to control that impulse as well. 

	They loved giving her a taste of her pussy before they went into her throat. Other men would stroke in and out of her down there so she had two cocks in her little body at once. And for that, they would make her cum.

	She thought that was all until they turned her over one day and pulled her buttocks apart. A man wanted to put it where she pooped but she didn't want that. She tried to fight when he put oil there. So they had to teach her about rape again. She had screamed and thrashed when the first man punched through her clenched anus. 

	They were not gentle in her bottom. Her orifice burned from the constant friction and her insides were sore from the battering they received. And there was always more semen left in there. But that only meant it was time for the next man. They liked to pinch her rump, bruising it as their thick members slid between her buttocks. They opened her deeply back there and she could sometimes feel their pubic hair bristling against her silky little cheeks. 

	The men did it so much that she couldn't completely close her hole for a while. When they asked her if she wanted to be a rape puppet again, she begged them not to make her one. 

	So she learned how to undulate while a man sodomized her little ass. Their hard members plumbed her slick, snug rectum and filled her repeatedly while their fingers played with her (their) pussy. She learned she could cum while they were in her rear. Some of them liked to put their wet fingers in her mouth so she could taste herself. Other times, her mouth and throat were preoccupied with something larger.

	The men were happy with her because now she was a complete sex toy. She was happy because she was not a rape puppet.

	I am not a rape puppet anymore. I am a complete sex toy in all three holes. My name is...is...Name...

	They taught her new positions and she learned them well. For days (or hours? weeks?) she had cocks inside her at all angles, thrusting and pumping their heavy goo into her and making her cum. 

	Then it was time to go.

	She was sad and worried but they told her about other men who wanted to play with a sex toy like her.

	I have three holes and my name...I have a name...

	And so they packed her carefully and put the needle in her arm and the mask on her face. And before they closed the lid, one last thing.

	Otherwise senseless, she became aware of it again. She knew the lump there again, the small capsule they had inserted between her legs - the one last thing. They showed her in a mirror as they put it in. Now only a wire trailed out between the dainty, hairless lips of her pussy. It was attached to a box that had a battery and a timer.

	It turned on again inside the girl. It made her wet there and she clung to the seeping of her warm fluids, the frissons in her sex, and the vibration of the thing like a lifeline to...to anywhere.

	My name is... I like to cum. I had a name but now it's gone. No, I want my name back and I want to cum. It's close, it's close in my privates even if they are not mine anymore but I want my name, too.

	Something happened outside. Clicking all around her. The soft material pressing against her front went away, replaced by air and a blinding light. The little girl squeezed her eyes shut against the glare of a single lamp and felt hands on her, gently touching. Fingers tugged on the wire and the lump stretched her as it was pulled free. She was drooling there and she felt her liquid caressing the smoothness of her bare mound.

	A man's voice, speaking softly, boomed in her ears.

	"So this is Naomi."

	Relief.

	Yes.



madvlad@mrdouble.com
http://www.mrdouble.bz/htm/authors/madvlad.htm





















This story is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.


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