The Contract

Chapter Four-1

Chapter Four

Jewellery & Cuffs

In the morning my chaperones again woke me with soft knocking on the bedroom door and when I emerged wrapped in my dressing gown, I seemed to float along the hallway to the bathroom, where they silently insisted on washing and dressing me. I felt very lackadaisical about the whole affair and compliantly allowed them to do as they wished, enjoying the attention being lavished upon me.

The pills certainly seemed to have worked. I felt so relaxed and easy-going now that if they’d have suggested that I could fly, if they had been permitted to speak, I would have tried to do it. They helped me get dressed while I sat on the bed like a semi-alive doll, then took me into the living room where we all waited silently once more for the limo to arrive. My mind drifted aimlessly while we sat and I dreamily contemplated how I’d spend the two and a half million dollars I now possessed. Just before we left the apartment, they handed me the last pair of tablets and a glass of water, silently insisting that I take them. Watching closely, they then gestured for me to open my mouth and move my tongue around to show that I had really swallowed the pills.

We were picked up once more by the silent, veiled Chauffeuse, who this time remained seated while we got in. In seconds we were on our way, being driven back to the hospital on the North Shore, for the last time although I wasn’t aware of that aspect. This time, the limo entered via a rear lane, descending to the underground garage in which there were a dozen, dark windowed mini-vans already parked. By now, the pills had taken such effect that I felt as though I was just drifting along like a tethered balloon, while the two of them guided me once more to the Examining Room. One now toted a heavy, expensive looking suitcase she’d taken from the trunk of the limo after we’d arrived in the garage.

I marvelled at the discretion of the hospital and its staff. I had yet to see another patient and to all intents and purposes, I could very well have been the only one in the entire place. The same white-smocked man glided noiselessly into the examining room and told me, slightly peremptorily I thought, to disrobe, then lie on the table and relax. He left just as silently as he’d arrived and I casually slipped out of my clothing, settled back, then closed my eyes and, thanks to the drug, felt no inhibitions about doing as I was told. Today, for some reason, I was much more conscious of the thickness, weight, and imperviousness of the white rubber sheet that covered me and soon got hot and sticky under it, fidgeting aimlessly, wishing that things would start happening, and that I could rid myself of the damned sheet. My two nameless and faceless companions had taken my discarded garments, folding them neatly after I’d removed each one, then placed them in another small black case.

I waited impatiently for whatever would happen next, then surprisingly, my chaperones left the room and for a moment I was completely alone in the sterile little chamber. I was mildly surprised by this, after having them as constant companions over the past days, but didn’t hear the silent electric locks on the door when it closed behind them, leaving me unaware that I was now a prisoner, and would remain so for the next five years. A nurse arrived some moments later and told me that I should try to relax my arms while she was administering the inoculations, then requested that I take another tablet just before these were administered. Not surprised by the requirement of the needles, having already been told of the reasons for them, I asked her why there was a need for another tablet.

“Just part of the doctor’s orders, Miss Henderson,” she replied. “You may find that you’ll soon be glad of it.” She smiled enigmatically when she said this and I smiled back vacuously as she handed me the small pill and a paper cup of water.

A few seconds later I returned the emptied container and she asked me to relax my arms while the injections were administered. They stung a little, but were skilfully done and she was kind enough to tell me what each was for. I became less and less interested while the relaxant took further effect, feeling even more drowsy and loose while I lay staring at the ceiling.

At one point during the series of injections, I thought she mentioned something about one of them being a special new drug that affected the female monthly cycle; stopping it completely for a long time. Apparently, it acted without any side effects other than making the women who had used it during the human testing become much more sensitive and randy than usual while they were on it. She mentioned too, I think, that it would take effect almost immediately, then, after the initial injection, it would be administered in my food until my Contract was completed. At that point though I could have cared less and just continued to lie quietly until she was finished. Before leaving the room she patted my sheet clad shoulder reassuringly.

“Just lay there and relax, Miss Henderson. I’ll be back in twenty minutes or so,” she said, then departed with a rustle of starched whites and the whisper of her nylons brushing against each other within the envelope of her skirt.

My two chaperones re-entered the room to resume their watch just before the door closed, then things gradually got fuzzier. I didn’t have a worry in the world while I lay thinking of that lovely two and a half million with my name on it, growing ever larger each day that passed and so with visions of sugar plums dancing through my mind behind my closed eyelids, I drifted into a quiet nap.

Sometime later I was awakened by the clatter of metal against metal while the doctor and nurse removed instruments from a small autoclave and laid them out on a white, cloth-covered tray. When they’d completed their tasks they came over to the examining table to stand towering above me. I watched them through sleepy, half-open eyes when they sat on high, wheeled stools; one on either side of me, continuing to lay quietly, waiting blankly for what would happen next.

The doctor ordered me to close my eyes and after I’d obediently followed his command I felt them doing something with my nose. A pair of long, thick, cool metal fingers were gently inserted into each of my nostrils, almost plugging them and although I wanted to raise my hands and push these uncomfortable things away, the nurse held both of my arms on the table beside me and told me not to move. The prongs slid further and further up into my nostrils until they stopped when something pressed firmly against the central fleshy divider of my septum. For a moment I struggled against her overpowering strength, then relaxed while the drug circulating through my brain robbed me of the will to protest or resist and so just lay there breathing through my mouth, panting a little, but unafraid.

The things in my nostrils slowly began to clamp the central cartilage and fleshy part firmly, pressing uncomfortably, then suddenly, I heard a muted metallic snap and my nose was engulfed with a burning, penetrating pain when a sharp, thick needle was forced with a rapid, cutting twist through the cartilage, deep inside My eyes flew open and I voiced only a startled yelp from the drug-muted pain, but she continued to press my shoulders back against the table top. The drug, combined with the restraint of the nurse’s strong hands, cancelled all control over my muscles and they reacted like so much jelly, so I could only watch with numbed fascination when the things which had been so deeply inserted were slowly withdrawn.

“This is the first part of your special jewellery, young lady, and we’d like you to hold still while it’s attached, please,” the doctor said quietly.

Something didn’t feel right inside my nose or along the sides of the dividing flesh.

“Please close your eyes again, Miss Henderson,” the Nurse commanded.

They seemed to fumble with a smooth, cool, metal thing, and I felt it move in my flesh, but all I could sense was the sliding motion of a metal shaft being pushed through a tube. She covered my eyes with a dark cloth then told me once more to keep both my eyes and mouth closed. There was a bright flash, then a buzzing sound, and the thing within my nose grew very warm for a moment, but cooled rapidly when she swabbed my face with a dampened cloth.

“There, dear,” she said, patting my shoulder. “Now you’ve got your first grommet and ring.”

Something heavy, U-shaped, and solid rested on my upper lip, trailing what felt like a lightly-linked chain over my right cheek. It pulled gently at my flesh while I lay with my eyes closed, wondering just what they’d done to me.

A ring. In my nose?

The nurse did something at the edge of the table out of my sight with the other end of the chain, resulting in a small click, but in a moment, thanks to the drug, I forgot about it. My relaxed state prevented what had been done from bothering me overly much and I fuzzily thought that this must be the interesting part of the jewellery that they’d told me about. I giggled a little at how strange it felt, glad of the rapidly decreasing ache, yet still wanting to reach up and touch the thing hanging out of my nostrils.

“Miss Henderson?” the doctor asked matter-of-factly, “please stick your tongue out as far as you can, and keep it that way.”

This sounded really bizarre, but once more I followed orders to the letter and he quickly coated it, far back into my mouth, with a sweet tasting gel that in seconds had numbed it completely. The stuff reminded me of the surface anaesthetic that dentists use and I soon felt as though I had a plank of wood in there rather than a tongue. I swallowed some of the material as I pulled it back into my mouth, but he told me to stick it out again.

A pair of doubled forceps clamped uncomfortably tight on either side, then pulled my tongue even further out, making me yelp wordlessly again with the awful sensation and discomfort. I tried to move my head against the drag of the forceps, but the heel of the nurse’s other hand pressed firmly against my forehead, keeping my head on the table, then in quick succession, I felt five thick needles pushed through my captured flesh two on each side at the very back of my tongue, two more on either side at mid-point, and one at the tip, right into the spots he’d marked the day before. I squirmed frantically from the unpleasant sensation, moaning incoherently in acute discomfort, trying to complain about what they were doing, despite my tongue being still immobilised, but I really didn’t feel any pain, and all that came forth was an unintelligible groaning. Both the doctor and the nurse soothed me, but my tongue remained firmly held, pulled far beyond my lips. A moment later the needles were slowly withdrawn, but when they were, five, thick, short metal rods with large balls on one end were inserted into the resulting wounds from underneath, passing completely through the numbed flesh.

They kept me like this while screwing other, larger metal balls onto the upper ends of the exposed shafts, until each of these impressed themselves deeply and uncomfortably into the upper surface of my tongue. Each one emitted a solid little click. Only when all of these balls had been screwed down were the forceps released then I gratefully retracted my tongue, feeling the strangeness of the metal now mounted in it when I moved it around inside my mouth. The balls underneath were quite unpleasant, pressing down into the soft flesh, while the ones on the top rattled against my teeth with every twitch.

I didn’t like the sensations they elicited and experimentally stuck my tongue out until the tip and first pair of balls and rods were beyond my teeth, then tried to remove them by pulling it back into my mouth. They dragged, at the moment uncomfortably, but later, when I tried again, painfully and very firmly against the flesh they transfixed. I moaned wordlessly with discomfort, not realising, yet, how permanent they were.

“Miss Henderson, you may find this jewellery somewhat uncomfortable at first, but you’ll soon get used to it and you may even find it exciting to wear, after a while.”

When I tried to acknowledge his comments, it still felt as though I was trying to use a piece of wood to articulate and what speech I attempted came out more as a jumbled garble of sounds rather than real words. The balls forced me to lisp when they rattled against my teeth and although they weren’t really painful, thanks to the anaesthetic, they did feel very strange.

Next, they had me roll my head to the side and a moment later there were two more sharp clicks. I felt two stings when each of my ear lobes was doubly pierced. Again they fumbled with earrings, then the nurse told me to close my eyes and there were two flashes and more of the buzzing sounds. I felt some heat from the short rods passing through my flesh, but continued to lay quietly, my eyes still closed. Another chain trailed down over my naked shoulder, pulling gently and continually at one of the heavy, closed U’s that impaled my earlobes.

The two of them stood and helped me to sit up, holding the sheet modestly around me and when I rose from the warm surface of the Examining Table, I felt the links from my nose slide over the front of my lips and realised that it really and truly was a thin, yet quite sturdy golden chain, and it was attached to the thing in my nose. Equally as strange, I heard the sound of small bells and felt the drag of heavy earrings and their attached chains even more than when I’d been laying down.

The ear-chains also hung down over the front of the sheet in a cascade of golden links, piled in a heavy little mound in my lap and I noted that at the end of each chain there was a small but very sturdy ring and giggled foolishly again at the thought of being required to wear these ornaments, thinking how strange and barbaric they must make me look. The sheet fell away when I raised my hand to feel the jewellery.

The fierce-looking Arab entered the room and greeted the doctor with a liquid salutation, ignoring both me and the two women who now knelt in front of their chairs. He walked over to the large suitcase they’d brought from the limo and swung it up onto a side table while I watched curiously, then he quickly dialled the combination locks. I picked up the sheet and covered myself again with a sudden fit of modesty. After the locks popped open, he reached inside and brought forth a pile of gleaming, thick, silvery bands; each lined with what appeared to be a layer of thin, black rubber. They rattled metallically and I saw that each was equipped with two small, sturdy rings. With these held firmly, he returned to where I sat on the examining table, still sheet-enshrouded, and placed them beside me.

“Are you feeling alright, Miss Henderson?” he asked in heavily-accented English.

Slowly, I nodded after thinking about it with difficulty for a couple of seconds.

“You now wear the very first pieces of your Restraint Jewellery,” he stated, “so, it is time for you to be fitted with your Standard Issue cuffs and collar. Please gather your hair and lift it from your head.”

Awkwardly, holding the sheet with one hand and my long hair with the other, I sat quietly while he walked around the table and came to stand behind me, then a second later I felt a cool, five cm wide, five mm thick band encircle my neck loosely, but only for a few seconds. He held it snugly against the column of my throat, then slowly and carefully closed the stainless steel cuff. The ends slipped together at the side of my neck under my right ear and sat for a moment, resting comfortably, encasing my throat about halfway up, but nothing happened for a few seconds. Then, the choker slowly clamped tighter and there was a solid metal-on-metal click. He stepped back and I let my hair fall. The choker wasn’t too tight, but I was definitely aware of its presence all the time, for it was formed snugly to the contours of my neck. He brushed my hair away from my face, then reached under my chin. I stared directly up into his dark, hooded, and glittering eyes when he reached out and lifted the ring under my chin and let it fall back with a solid sounding clink against the thick band. There was another, matching one at the back.

“My dear,” he beamed, “you look absolutely exquisite wearing a collar.”

I shook my head and felt the drag of the heavy jewellery chains; attempting to somehow escape the mild compression of the thing encasing my neck. The room started to whirl and I had to close my eyes to make it stop, then, tentatively, I raised my hand to touch it.

“Please keep your right arm straight out from the shoulder, Miss Henderson,” he commanded at just that moment. “It is time to fit you with your arm cuffs.”

I did as he demanded and watched dreamily while he wrapped one of the shiny, rubber-lined bands around it just above my elbow, it pressing firmly into the flesh of my arm. Once it clicked shut, he secured it with a small electronic device that made the smoothly raised portion of the lock snap softly. Without a word, he fitted another, oval-shaped cuff of the same width and thickness around my wrist, it too closing tightly with a final sounding metallic click. I couldn’t help but notice the small rings swinging from each of the metal bangles now locked around my wrist and upper arm and admired how they caught the light when they swung back and forth in their sturdy mounts. I dropped my arm and flexed it experimentally, feeling the encircling steel bands exert their authority, restricting the play of my muscles and tendons with their strict, unyielding compression and encasement. The cuffs felt quite strange, but after a moment I forgot about them while I watched him repeat the process on my left arm. I tried to bend it too and again found that there was absolutely no give to the firmly clamped, locked silvery bands.

“Now, Miss Henderson, you are about to be fitted with your leg bands. Put your right leg up on the table in front of you, straight out, please,” he commanded.

He picked up another wide cuff from the still substantial pile beside me and wrapped it around my leg, just above the knee, then struggled briefly to close it, locking it in place with the electronic key. Again, I noted the rings that swung freely, swivelling and glittering, but my attention was drawn to the next, narrower band. He modestly brushed back the hanging sheet, then clamped it around the top of my thigh just under my buttock until it, too, was deeply embedded in my flesh, locked firmly in place. He picked up the next cuff and slipped it around my ankle while I watched in silence, still giggling a little and clutching the sheet to my chest. This one too, was closed and locked, and I saw that it, like the others, was adorned with the same substantial rings: one on the outside of the ankle and the other on the inside. He hadn’t finished with it yet though, and proceeded to fit a wide, rubber-lined steel loop under my instep, sliding it into mating slots in the bottom edge of the thick cuff. I could distinctly hear the sounds of the internal ratchets when he pushed the loop up into the hollow of my instep and a moment later my foot was tightly contained in a web of rubber-lined steel. That sensation was very strange, and I felt as though I was wearing stirrup-type slacks, without the slacks. Again, I was amused at how silly this whole thing was.

In the next two minutes he repeated the process on my left leg, then told me to lay back again, spreading the sheet over me and for a couple of moments I was left to take another nap. While I lay there, I flexed my arms and legs experimentally against their constricting cuffs, occasionally raising my hands with some difficulty to finger the snug choker around my neck and explore the U’s that punctured each of my ears and the other larger heavier one in my nose.