The Archivist of PermaMod Ch. 01
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Saengdao was installed in her observation cage. Generally, no objects are attributed as being the possession of a slave, for that is what Saengdao was. This cage, however, was built specifically with Saengdao in mind. She was the only individual who had ever been inside it. And so, all considered it to be hers.
It was a small cage, flat on the bottom and rounded up top. She knelt on a comfortable cushion set into the base. There was no room to stand.
As her job required no use of her hands, they were cuffed out of the way, behind her back. Saengdao wore nothing beside her bonds.
The cage was affixed to an articulating mechanical arm which allowed a mistress to position the cage in a wide array of heights and angles, much like a device found in a dental office on Earth in the modern day. Indeed, the cage was moved about quite often to allow Saengdao to see precisely what was going on in the room. It was her job to observe and then to report step by step notes as to the procedures that occurred in the room.
She had to concentrate and memorize and then, later, chronicle the things that were done to the slaves who were brought to the room and fastened securely to the reclining chair. Saengdao was the Archivist of PermaMod.
Though her mouth was free of any sort of encumbrance, Saengdao was not permitted to speak. She knew that if she uttered any sound at all, she would quickly become an active participant of proceedings in the room - no longer an observer, but instead lashed to the chair and modified. Needless to say, Saengdao was very disciplined in her embrace of silence.
The day's victim was escorted into the room on a leash by her mistress and a nurse. She was secured to the operating chair - naked, with wrists and ankles cuffed tightly to the chair.
The mistress kissed her slave on the forehead like a child and whispered, "Love you."
"I love you too, Mistress," the slave replied. She had a debilitating lisp, so every 's' came forth as a 'th'.
Saengdao knew this slave. It was Helen. She had been strapped in the chair five months before to be pierced and measured. She did not show any signs of distress. Saengdao assumed that Helen did not know what was about to occur.
The mistress and nurse retreated from the room, leaving Helen waiting patiently - Saengdao's cage positioned above for the best view. Helen's eyes scanned the room for a moment before settling on Saengdao.
It would be hard to say for certain, but if not Helen, then certainly some other modified slave must have wondered exactly how Saengdao could possibly perform her job as official observer of the proceedings. After all, her eyes were covered by metallic shields which spanned from above her brows down to her cheekbones. Certainly, the sturdy bolts that seemed to attach the shields to Saengdao's face could have been props to create a certain sense of theater. But they were not.
"Hello," Helen said.
Saengdao remained perfectly still, watching.
"Are you gagged too?" Helen asked. "I'm getting a gag today. Mistress says that I have no restraint with my voice. I talk and talk and can never remember to keep quiet."
Helen was extremely beautiful. Strikingly beautiful. Her face was perfect. Long dark red hair framed immaculate bone structure and large wide green eyes. If one were to scan a crowd, her's would be the face that one would remember most upon reflection.
Saengdao had known women with Helen's hair and eyes during the course of her last life-dream. Often, their complexion would be freckled. In contrast, Helen's was an even pale with no mark or blemish at all. Glowing. Pure as the day she was born.
"...It's always been an issue for me..." Helen lisped. "In fact, my last owner grew so tired of my talking that she abandoned me - chained me by my wrist to a tree in the woods. I was there for over a year until Mistress found me. She had to cut off my hand to claim me from the tree. Holy Goddess! That hurt a lot! But, I'm glad she did that instead of chopping down my tree. I loved that tree. I guess you could say, after all that time, I was attached to it in more ways than one. Ha ha..."
As she spoke, Helen flexed her right wrist back and forth. Of course, her hand had grown back. The loss of a hand would be catastrophic during a life-dream. Not so, in this world where all were divine immortal.
Saengdao remembered Helen's previous visit, of course. It was her job to remember all details of the proceedings in this room. And though she always documented her observations for the organization's historical archive, that process did not remove the operating sessions from her memory.
She remembered that, on her previous visit, Helen had gotten six studs pierced through her tongue - two rows of three running back along the length of her tongue. Also, there was an array of eight studs around Helen's mouth.
Despite the sparkling jewels that tipped the lip studs, Saengdao felt that they detracted from Helen's natural beauty. Saengdao's opinion or feelings were utterly immaterial.
"Wearing the gag will help me remember to be quiet at times when, otherwise, I may accidentally and inadvertently start to speak. I hope that the gag is comfortable. Did you get your gag here?" Helen continued. It was clear to Saengdao that Helen was unaware of Madame M's reputation - of her area of magical expertise.
The art of body modification was a challenge in a world populated by divine immortals. Any brand, any scar, any hole, any cut made into the flesh would heal completely in due course leaving no indication of the violence that had occurred. That was why a powerful witch like Madame M was needed. For, with proper planning and spellcraft, modifications could be made. And depending on the witch's skill and imagination, the modifications that could be made were limitless - perhaps, even, if desired, extreme.
Madame M called her facility "PermaMod". The idea is that she created permanent body modifications. But, what does "permanent" even mean when you are Wom - a divine immortal being? For example, if one is "permanently" pinned to a boulder by an unbreakable steel staple, inevitably, over the millennia, the boulder will erode to sand and the immortal will again be free.
Even if there is the smallest fraction of a chance that something will occur, in the face of eternity that something will eventually occur. And everything has at the least a tiny possibility of occurring. So, what is "permanent"?
Saengdao had been the archivist of PermaMod for a brief two years - ever since her awakening from her life-dream. Would she be the archivist permanently? Well... no. Certainly, though, in a thousand years she may still be confined to her cages, observing and documenting operations. Maybe a million years. Regardless, even for an immortal divine being, during the passage of time a thousand years would feel like forever.
Even for a divine immortal the word "permanent" could still carry the weight of eternity.
"...I can't imagine though, how much MORE I'll speak when the gag is removed after being silenced for a period of time and so many thoughts filling my head waiting in line to be expressed..."
And this is how Saengdao knew that Helen was unaware of the modification procedures that were about to take place.
Saengdao closed her eyes for a moment to suppress a tear from forming. Tears trapped behind her eye-grates caused her vision to be blurry. Her job dictated that she could not allow some activity to go unnoticed - to go undocumented - due to blurry vision. She was expected to be close to perfect in her descriptions. Mistakes were not allowed. She had to satisfy her audience or she would quickly be replaced. There were worse fates than being the permanent archivist of PermaMod.
Helen blathered on for a while and, in due course, Helen's mistress returned followed by Dr Bitch and a slave nurse pushing a covered tray on a cart. Helen's mistress whispered encouragement to Helen acting as though this visit was of little consequence. Meanwhile, Dr Bitch reached up and grabbed Saengdao's cage, jerking it back and forth a little more roughly than necessary. She positioned the cage to give Saengdao an optimal viewing spot, peering over the Dr's right shoulder. The slave nurse knelt on a pad near the door.
"Good morning, Dr," Helen said after kissing her mistress goodbye and watching her retreat from the room. "The weather is nice outside today. I hope that I won't take up too much of your time so you can get out and enjoy yourself. Mistress told me that she has the utmost confidence in your skills and so I am completely at ease today. I'm not worried about anything at all."
Dr Bitch ignored Helen. She reached over to a tray and picked up a somewhat oval-shaped black metal hoop. "Nurse, can you put the slave's hair in a ponytail? I need it out of the way."
"Sorry," Helen said. The doctor's curt manner was starting to make her twitch and pull at her bonds. "I should have pulled it back before I arrived. But with the gentle breeze today, it felt so nice to let it hang free. And as I have learned over the years, it's always good to appreciate the little things..."
The nurse rose up from her pad and attended to Helen's hair, finally capturing it in a short knotted rope that she pulled from around her wrist. Once complete she returned to her cart and began searching through a tray of surgical tools. Helen glanced over at the nurse for a second before returning her attention to the Dr.
"Close your mouth," the Dr said. She held the metal oval hoop up above Helen's face.
"Sorry, yes ma'am," Helen said and pressed her lips together tightly.
The oval had been deformed so that it slid tightly around Helen's face. The cold metal cupped Helen's chin, passed just in front of her ears and high up on her forehead just above her hairline.
The doctor dragged her thumb along the edges of the hoop around Helen's face. "Mallet," she said, holding out her hand toward the nurse.
The nurse efficiently grabbed a small rubber-headed hammer and passed it to the doctor, as Helen watched with bugged-out eyes.
The doctor began to tap the mallet at points on the hoop - generally, switching from side-to-side. Helen flinched with every tap. Her hands twisted in her bonds and her naked breasts heaved as she hyperventilated. The doctor was careful and practiced though. Not once did her swing land foul or impact Helen's pleasant face in any way.
After a thorough evaluation, Dr Bitch set the mallet aside. "Can you open your mouth?" she asked.
Helen could only lisp through her clenched jaw. "Not at all. It feels quite tight." Saengdao observed as Helen contorted the muscles of her face trying her best, unsuccessfully, to slip from the hoop.
"Your teeth?" the doctor asked. "Can you get any space between your teeth?"
Helen's lips curled open and closed and her cheek muscles flexed, but her teeth remained firmly pressed together. The hoop was a tight fit. "I feel like this is a much more elaborate gag than what I had envisioned. That is, of course, if this is a part of the gag. Very tight. Very efficient. I'm sure Mistress will enjoy this design..."
After inspecting the fit around the edges of Helen's face a little longer, Dr Bitch wrapped her fingers behind Helen's neck and began to push up on the hoop with her thumbs. It was obvious that the Doctor had to exert some degree of force before the hoop popped away from Helen's head once again.
"Whooh! That was a perfect fit, I must say," Helen said, settling down a little.
The nurse was holding out a short, sharp paring knife for the doctor, but she was waved off.
"I think I've grown tired of her prattling. Let's fit the appliance first," Dr Bitch said to the nurse.
"Sorry. Sometimes I don't even realize that the things that I am thinking, I am actually saying out loud," Helen apologized.
"Yeah? Shut up!" the doctor sneered. Helen's mouth snapped closed, her skin reddened, and she pressed her head backward firmly into the headrest.
"Sorry," she whispered.
Dr Bitch smirked: "The world will soon be a better place."
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The nurse wheeled her cart closer to the reclining chair holding Helen's bound form. She pulled a small fabric from the top of the cart to reveal an array of shiny, metal hardware and surgical tools. Helen tried to sit up to get a good view of the contents of the cart, but Dr Bitch pushed her head back down into the headrest. "You need to stay still or you may get hurt."
Dr Bitch had a way of expressing herself so that her words always came across as a threat.
The nurse selected a set of forceps and gave it to Dr Bitch. "Open your mouth and stick out your tongue."
Saengdao watched as Helen complied. Six steel balls tipped the barbells passing from bottom to top of her tongue. The doctor clamped the textured tips of the forceps securely on Helen's tongue and locked them. "Hold these."
The nurse stepped up to the chair and received the forceps, gently extracting Helen's tongue to its greatest extent.
Dr Bitch reached up and grabbed Saengdao's cage, jerking it around a little to make sure that the slave nurse did not obscure the archivist's ability to clearly observe the activities taking place.
Helen, somehow forgetting that her tongue was otherwise occupied, started to say something, which produced little more than unintelligible grunting. She quickly remembered to silence herself.
The nurse handed a new tool to Dr Bitch which she levered into Helen's mouth, capturing one of the rear steel balls. She squeezed the handles firmly until the barbell snapped in half with a distinct pop. She dropped the ball in a metal pan, then fished out the barbell from the underside of Helen's tongue, the nurse twisting and pulling the forceps as necessary. Soon, the last of the tongue piercings were snapped in half and dropped into the pan with a clatter.
Dr Bitch then proceeded to remove the studs from Helen's lips until she was devoid of all jewelry. For a moment, Dr Bitch held Helen's head cupped in her hands, turning Helen's face slowly side-to-side.
"Oh, wow! It's incredible how much difference my mouth feels without all that metal." Helen's lisp was gone - her enunciation was perfectly clear.
"Nurse, please leave for five minutes," Dr Bitch said, smiling.
"Oh, sorry," Helen said quietly. "I keep forgetting to not talk." She watched as the slave nurse quietly left the room, shutting the door behind her.
"Well," Dr Bitch stated, "It is certainly clear why your mistress has chosen this path for you. You are utterly incapable of staying quiet. And this is a good solution to remedy that. Tell me... Do you love your mistress?"
"Oh, yes!" Helen said, smiling. "Of course!"
"You must be a wonderful submissive." Dr Bitch stepped back from the operating chair.
"I serve her and she protects me," Helen said.
Dr Bitch grabbed the archivist's cage and maneuvered it so that it was positioned directly in front of Helen's face. "Saengdao is a submissive too. In fact, she is a perfect submissive. Do you know why?"
Saengdao continued to kneel impassively in her cage - her arms pinioned behind and her face seemingly directed at Helen.
"She's been here as the archivist since she climbed from the mausoleum after awakening from her last life-dream. Madame M immediately recognized her brilliance and her submissiveness. And, I guess you could say, took her under her wing. Notice how she stays perfectly quiet?"
Dr Bitch reached through the bars of Saengdao's cage, quickly pushing fingers into Saengdao's mouth, levering three knuckles between her upper and lower teeth. "See? She doesn't have a gag." The doctor aggessively flicked Saengdao's tongue back and forth with her middle finger until drool began to slide down Saengdao's chin. "No tongue piercings. She knows her station and performs her duties... well enough."
Dr Bitch extracted her fingers and wiped the saliva on Saengdao's shoulder. The archivist rocked gently back and forth, but otherwise remained expressionless.
"Saengdao has always hated me. She is probably really pissed off right now - that I stuck my fingers in her mouth. But you'd never know... Can you tell what her current emotions are?"
Helen shook her head back and forth - her eyes were wide open and her jaw tense.
"Hm... Actually, I don't even know anymore..." Dr Bitch continued. "Maybe she is not angry. Maybe any form of human contact thrills her now... It's hard to say..." The doctor smiled a wicked grin. "I did that to her." She pointed to the metal plates mounted over Saengdao's eyes.
"Madame M could train this slave to be passive... to remain quiet... to hold the muscles of her face so utterly still... But Madame M recognized that she would never be able to train Saengdao to control her eyes. She had... She has... She has the most expressive eyes. She could sweep through an entire spectrum of emotion with the simple narrowing of her eyes. She could communicate a wealth of information with just a gaze.
"Perhaps a lesser Domme would have tried to beat her or something to remove the personality from the slave. Madame M, though, knew immediately what to do." Dr Bitch pushed the arm of the cage to reposition Saengdao a little higher up again. "Just cover them up, she told me... just cover up her eyes."
Dr Bitch gently stroked Helen's cheek. "So, I did. Those plates are actually bolted in place by drilling screws into her skull. As the screws went in, the tips spread out." The doctor demonstrated by slowly spreading her fingers wider until her palm was completely open. "They will never come out without breaking her skull into pieces."
"Don't worry, though. She can see perfectly well. There are thousands of tiny holes in the metal that allow light into her eyes. She can see everything. And, if I could place a light source behind the plates somehow, you would easily recognize the illusion of impermeability and be able to look upon her beautiful, expressive eyes."
The door opened and the nurse returned into the room.
"But, since we can't see her eyes, we were able to turn a slave with unique, distinguishing eyes into the perfect anonymous submissive. She is now merely a tool... a part of the furniture, if you will... fulfilling a purpose... fulfilling HER purpose. I sometimes wonder if her eyes are still as expressive. Maybe that which is hidden slowly takes on the characteristics of its cover. Maybe her eyes are now just cold and hard. What do you think?"
"I.. I don't know..." Helen whispered.
"Excellent!" The doctor quickly pushed the forceps into Helen's mouth and grabbed the tip of her tongue, pulling it hard enough to elicit a strangled whine from Helen's throat. "And those, Slave Helen, will be your final words. Nurse, give me the under-tongue tray!"
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"Nurse, give me the under-tongue tray!"
The slave nurse handed the first piece of Helen's new hardware to Dr Bitch. It was a molded piece of stainless steel designed to fit below the wearer's tongue on the floor of her mouth. It curved up slightly along the edges to provide a cup-like boundary to contain the wearer's tongue. There were six narrow tubes protruding up from the bottom of the tongue tray - two rows of three running back along the length of the hardware which aligned perfectly with the locations of the piercings of Helen's tongue.
Using the forceps, the doctor lifted Helen's tongue and slipped the metal cup underneath. After aligning the rear-most tubes in the cup to the corresponding holes pierced through Helen's tongue, it was easy to skewer the remaining holes until Helen's tongue rested in the bottom of the cup - twitching, yet pinioned.r"
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