“You… y-you can’t… you’re joking, right?” My heart had begun to race at what had to be at least two hundred beats a minute. “Right?”
“No, honey, I’m not joking,” Nurse Samuels said, her voice so matter-of-fact that thehoneyseemed bizarrely incongruous. “It’s a temporary disciplinary measure, commonly used with resistant applicants who fit your profile with regard to masturbation. The sealant is perfectly safe—medical grade adhesive that will keep your labia closed for a few days or even a few weeks. Your sponsor will decide. The product we use is a harmless, proprietary formula. Don’t hurt yourself trying to get it open—only our special solvent will do that.”
I couldn’t breathe. The words kept repeating in my mind but they wouldn’t make sense.Close up my… Seal my…
“This is insane!” I tried to pull against the restraints, but they held me fast. “You can’t do this to me!”
“The waiver you signed gives us explicit authority to use the medical procedures we deem necessary during your evaluation period,” she said, pulling on fresh gloves. “Including this one.”
The door opened again and to my amazement Ann Tolliver entered, her pearl necklace catching the harsh fluorescent light. She looked down at me with what might have been sympathy, but her voice remained professionally composed.
“Laura, I need you to understand something very important,” Ann said, moving to stand where I could see her clearly. “You’re going to remain in the Selecta Arrangements program for a minimum of three months, if we think that’s a good idea. Selecta has invested a good deal of money in you already, and we’re going to do our best to get a return on our investment from our share of your allowance. Try to remember that this is for your own good.”
“What? No!” The words burst from me. “You said… you said if I didn’t fill out the profile, I’d be denied!”
“That’s correct,” Ann agreed, her tone patient. “I did say that.”
Hope flickered in my chest despite everything. “Then I won’t fill it out! I just won’t do it, and then you’ll have to let me go!”
Ann’s expression didn’t change, but her eyes told me she’d been expecting exactly this response. “Laura, Selecta gets to make the decision about whether to release you from the program. Not you. We may yet decide to deny your application and release you.” She paused, touching her pearl necklace. “If we do release you, we’ll unseal your pussy for you free of charge, of course.”
The casual way she said it—unseal your pussy—made my head spin. This was really happening. They were really going to do this to me.
“But until we make that determination,” Ann continued, “you’re required to remain in the program. The apartment is yours. You’ll receive a basic stipend for living expenses. And in three months, we’ll reassess.”
“Three months?” My voice came out as a whimper. “With my… with it sealed?”
“That depends entirely on you,” Ann said. “If you complete your profile and begin accepting sponsor meetings, we can remove the seal, if a sponsor hasn’t already decided to open you up. But if you continue to resist…” She trailed off, the implication clear.
Nurse Samuels had moved between my spread legs, and I felt her gloved fingers touching my outer lips. I tried instinctively to close my legs, but the restraints held them wide open, exposing everything.
“Please,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. “Please don’t do this.”
“I’m going to begin now,” Nurse Samuels said, and I felt something cool and wet touch my outer lips. The brush stroked along one side, then the other, spreading what had to be the adhesive.
“No, no, please—” I sobbed, but my protests meant nothing. The substance felt thick, slightly sticky, and I could feel a slight tingling sensation where it touched my most intimate flesh.
The door opened again, and to my horror I heard the voice of Mark, the photographer.
“Perfect timing,” he said, his tone carrying that same detached professionalism I’d heard in the courtyard. “Ann called me over. She thought potential sponsors would want to see this.”
My eyes widened in horror as the photographer moved into view, camera already in hand. “No! You can’t?—”
“This will actually increase your appeal significantly,” Mark said, already positioning himself for a better angle. The camera clicked. “High-tier sponsors specifically look for girls who’ve required this level of correction. It signals that you’re exactly the kind of submissive who needs firm handling. And of course there’s the lasting effect on the vagina.”
“The what?” I demanded, looking among the faces of my three casual tormentors.
Nurse Samuels answered as she continued her work, carefully pressing my outer lips together.
“For the first few days following the removal of the seal, your vagina will be tighter than previously. Sex will be a little uncomfortable for you, but your sponsor will find intercourse particularly enjoyable.”
As I absorbed this horrid, degrading news, I felt the adhesive taking hold, the flesh adhering with a sensation that made my stomach lurch. She was sealing me. Actually sealing me closed.
“Now I’m going to hold your outer labia together for thirty seconds,” she murmured, her gloved fingers maintaining pressure. The camera kept clicking, documenting every moment of my humiliation.
I couldn’t stop crying. The reality of what was happening crashed over me in waves. They were closing my pussy. Making it inaccessible. And this stranger was photographing it all for wealthy men to see.
“There we are,” Nurse Samuels finally said, stepping back. “All sealed. You’ll notice a small opening at the bottom for urination, but everything else is completely closed off. You’ll find you’re less distracted by the urge to masturbate once you discover how difficult it is this way.”
