Mia Sumner

Her dull, conservative husband had barely left the house when Kitty removed the flexible retainers from each nipple and replace them with her nipple bars. Minutes after that, she had her dildo in hand as she scrolled through her favorite sites.

It had started with just a little curiosity about all the family destroying filth her husband campaigned against. Could it really be so vile, so horrific? What about it could possibly lead people, so far, astray?

ViceVerse, that was the first site she visited. The one her husband railed against most often for its lewd and corruptive content. The sight of all those naked women in obscene poses. Everything on display, the things they put inside themselves! It was shocking, it was everything her husband said, and yet looking at these perverse images sent a thrill through her body…

Consciousness returned reluctantly with the jolting movement of a gurney. Eyelids sticky with sleep pulled themselves open to see an anonymous ceiling passing by. The smell of antiseptic stung your nose. You tried to move, but every part of your body seemed pinned in place. Panic set in, heart pounding, brain screaming for freedom as your muscles tensed and pulled to no effect.

Cold air caressed your body, tightening your nipples. You were naked you realized with a jolt. You opened your mouth to speak, but the gag prevented it. Helpless, immobile, even speech stolen from you. Fear made your palms slick with sweat as you squeezed your hands into fists. Where? Who? Why? You had no answers to the questions echoing in your head.

The gurney hit the swinging doors, knocking them open and shaking your body. They were moving fast, taking you… where? Your pulse thudded in your ears as you fought for release, but could not gain an inch.

They had you in a room now. Plain beige walls, anonymous, sterile. There was a nurse. She wasn’t hiding her face but you didn’t recognize her. Young and pretty in the way magazines say women should be. The snap of latex gloves echoed in the room before she checked your pulse with clinical precision, dictating into something. All you could do was watch.

“Patient is blonde, caucasian, female. Breast enhancement procedure was successful.” The nurse’s hands groped and squeezed your breasts with rough efficiency, as though testing for firmness, sending unexpected sensations through your stomach. You struggled to look down, gasping into the gag as you saw your now swollen and unfamiliar mounds. What have they done?…