Assistants

Chapter 1

Sighing heavily, Ira looked once more at the door with the sign that read "Examination Room." The doctor wasn't there yet, as the director of the Population Liquidation Center had decided to hold a staff meeting first thing in the morning. The nurse, apologizing, had dashed off to the toilet, having first locked the office. Ira had briefly noticed the girl's slightly protruding stomach, which explained her frequent trips to the restroom.

"Ira." The girl remembered the voice of the always authoritative Galina Petrovna. It was weak, and it seemed all the power the first-category executioner had built up over the years had been torn from it. "A letter came for you here. I said I'd deliver it personally."

/> "What kind?" asked Ira, taking off her light jacket and hanging it on the coat rack in the utility room. "A letter."

"That one." Galina Petrovna extended the letter to the girl, trying to hide her eyes. But Ira had time to notice that the executioner's eyes were red and a little moist. "You sit down, I'll pour you some bergamot tea, the kind you like."

"Oh God, no." The words escaped the girl when she read "Directed to the nearest CLN for liquidation via skinning." "Galina Petrovna, what should I do?"

"Don't be afraid." Galina Petrovna poured tea into a mug, its fragrant steam rising. "I heard in your district they skin people quickly, so you won't suffer for long."

"How could this happen?" The girl covered her mouth with her palms, and tears streamed down her cheeks. "How could this happen? I was planning to go for advanced training."

"Listen, Irochka." Galina Petrovna slid a saucer with strawberry jam, which she simply adored, towards the girl. The executioner never let anyone touch the jar of it that stood in their utility room fridge. "Go home, I'm giving you the day off today."

"What should I do?" asked Ira, looking at Galina Petrovna with an unseeing gaze. "What should I do?"

"Get some sleep, take a hot bath." Galina Petrovna stood up, hugged Ira, and said, "And, Ira, just call me Galya."

And so she was, Irina Semyonovna Polyakova. Seven days later, she sits before a closed door, waiting for the doctor and nurse to undergo the examination before the sentence is carried out. She wears a light sweater, warm pants, and cheap white sneakers on her feet. In her hands are her card and the sentencing documents, according to which her skin will be flayed today.

"Oh, Irishka." A cheerful voice rang out. Ira turned her head and saw Anna Viktorovna Kukushkina, a nurse working at their liquidation center. "Hi."

"Hi, Anya." Ira greeted her sadly. "Did you get a letter too?"

"Yep," answered Anya with a wide smile. "Can you believe it? Just like I wanted. They're going to take my hide."

"And you're... okay with that?" asked Ira. "Isn't it scary? Skinning is very painful."

"That's the whole thrill." Anya rolled her eyes dreamily. "Imagine, you're crucified, hanging from chains, and your bloody flesh screams from the wild pain as your skin is slowly peeled off, centimeter by centimeter."

"Damn it, Anya, stop." Ira was outraged by this attitude towards execution. "How can you possibly like such a thing?"

"Well, my parents were strict." Anya smirked. "So my father would whip me twice a week for preventive purposes. And when I came three times during a whipping at fourteen, I realized pain was my thing. Luckily, my father thought I'd wet myself then, seeing the wet spot on my pants. So when I got a job at the center, during the first preventive whipping, I asked, crying, for him to give me a good lashing. He tried so hard I lay on my stomach on the bunk in the cell for five days."

"Hmm." Ira drawled, grimacing at Anya's words. "Seems your father didn't whip you enough."

"Agreed, not enough." Anya nodded in agreement. "His hand was strong; my whole rear burned after a whipping."

"Listen." Anya said with the enthusiasm of a maniac. "Want me to show you my scars?"

"What scars?" Ira genuinely didn't understand.

"What do you mean, what scars?" Anya asked, slightly taken aback. "From that flogging when I couldn't even get up for five days afterwards."

"No, thanks." Ira said, moving away. "Don't really feel like it."

"Or how about this." Anya lifted her sweater, showing her stomach, which bore numerous burn marks. "Viktor Viktorovich Nechaev drew these on me; he liked to smoke during torture. He'd stub his cigarette butts out on me."

"Damn it, Anya." Ira stood up, clenched her fists, and looked angrily at the girl. "You're really sick; you need treatment."

"Too late." Anya smiled widely. "They're taking my skin off today."

"So, girls." A man in a medical coat said, approaching the office door. "Why aren't you inside yet?"

"Your assistant..." answered Ira. "...told us to wait here for now."

"I see." Ira finally got a look at the badge, which stated that the man before them was Doctor Igolkin Mikhail Alekseevich. "And where is Alexandra herself?"

"Ten minutes ago..." answered Ira, shrugging. "...she went to the toilet."

"Alright." said the doctor, opening the office door. "Come in."

"So." said the Doctor, taking the girls' cards and sentences. "While Alexandra is busy with her business in the restroom, you undress and put your clothes in these bags."

"Um..." asked Ira, taking a transparent plastic bag from the doctor. "Are we going to the scaffold naked?"

"What difference does it make to you?" replied the doctor, entering data into the card. "They're going to skin your whole body anyway."

"Come on, Ira." Anya chuckled, pulling off her sweater and reaching for her t-shirt. "At least before death, you can show off your charms."

"Oh, shut up, Anya." Ira took off her sweater and put it in the bag. "What about piercings? Do we take them off here, or can we wait until we're led to the execution hall?"

"Piercings?" Anya froze with her bra half-unhooked, looking surprised at her unfortunate companion. "Well, I'll be damned. Our little Ira turned out to have a surprise."

"Piercings." said the Doctor, reviewing the sentences. "You'll have to remove them here so they don't interfere with the examination."

Without answering, Ira took off all her clothes and started with the earrings. The piercings were located on her body so that they weren't visible even in work clothes. Her nipples were pierced with small studs with decorations in the form of miniature roses. Another, larger rose was in her navel. Dealing with the navel, Ira removed the rings from her clitoris and labia majora.

"Hmm, girlfriend." Anya watched intently as Ira removed her intimate jewelry. "Seems we in the team knew little about you."

"I, um..." Ira hesitated. "When I got my navel pierced at nineteen, the master suggested decorating my breasts."

"Uh-huh." Anya smirked, removing a ring from her own clitoris, which seemed tiny compared to Ira's. "And you pierced your clitoris and labia for beauty too?"

"So, girls, are you finished?" The doctor saved Ira from awkward questions. "Then go to the examination room and wait there."

Ira went to the examination room, feeling Anya's interested gaze on her. She didn't pester her with questions but occasionally cast a respectful glance at her breasts or crotch. Anya herself, unashamed, sat with her legs spread wide, putting her charms on display. Glancing purely out of medical curiosity, Ira noted that between the labia majora, framed by a dark brown areola, rather long, wrinkled labia minora peeked out. Anya's breasts were small but firm, with hard nipples framed by barely noticeable dark areolas.

"Listen, Anya." Ira pointed to the labia minora. "Is it comfortable for you to walk with those?"

"Not just comfortable, but pleasant." Smiling, Anya tugged on the protruding lips, squinting and moaning sweetly from the pain, said, "I deliberately stretch them in the evening, hanging clamps with small weights."

"Damn, don't do that again." Ira grimaced as if from a toothache. "It hurts me just watching what you're doing."

"Oh, come on, Ira." Anya, grabbing her labia again, began twisting them, quietly moaning. "Try it yourself; you just can't imagine what a thrill it is."

"No way." answered Ira, crossing her arms over her chest and squeezing her legs tightly together, turned away. "I'm not going to do that with my lips."

"Uh-huh." Anya smirked, pinching her own nipples. "And you pierced your clitoris and labia majora for beauty."

Ira didn't have time to angrily reply that Anya was a depraved slut with sadomasochistic tendencies, as their CLN doctor, Kryukova Margarita Pavlovna, entered the office, apologizing for being late. She was dressed in thick nylon pants, into which a down sweater was tucked, and on her feet were black boots with low heels. In Margarita Pavlovna's hand, the girls noticed, to their surprise, a card and a sentence.

"Well, well, look who's here." Anya grinned, moving to the edge of the couch to make room for Margarita Pavlovna as she, having removed and packed her clothes in a bag, passed into the examination room. "What, Margarita Pavlovna, did Nikolai Fyodorovich get tired of you as a toy for his sexual fantasies?"

"Shut up, bitch." Margarita Petrovna said viciously, slapping her. "My relationship with Mikhail Fyodorovich is none of your business, my relationship with Nikolai Fyodorovich."

"Me, after your escapades?" Grinning, Anya, rubbing her cheek, switched places with Ira. "Bitch."

"That's it, you creature." Jumping up, Margarita Petrovna grabbed a scalpel from a small table where instruments were covered with a towel. "You've gone too far; I'll shorten your filthy tongue right now."

"Ladies!" The doctor shouted, bursting into the examination room. "Calm down right now!"

"One minute, Misha." Margarita Petrovna said with a predatory smile, advancing on Anya, who smiled and stuck out her long tongue at her, as if teasing her former boss. "I'll just cut out her tongue as a memento of my most brainless assistant."

"Margarita Pavlovna." The doctor said sternly, grabbing her by the wrist and taking the scalpel from the woman. "Only out of respect for you will I overlook this incident."

"Ooh. Respected Margarita Pavlovna." Anya grinned, asking. "Are you fucking Mikhail Alekseevich too?"

"I'm sorry, Mikhail Alekseevich, I'm late..." The doctor's assistant, entering the office, gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. "Why are you treating her like that?"

The thing was, Anya lay strapped to the gynecological chair. A huge black anal plug was inserted into her anus, with an enema hose sticking out of it. Anya wore a black latex mask on her head. A large ball gag was in her mouth. A thick hose led from her nose, through which Anya's stomach was being pumped. Anya lay on the chair, squinting, continuously moaning.

"Too much." said the doctor, carefully examining Anya's vagina, which he had opened and fixed with special clamps. "Talked too much nonsense."

"Seems, Margarita Petrovna." Ira said, smiling as she watched Anya's torment. "The doctor found the kind of pain that doesn't give our little Anya pleasure."

"Hmm, and indeed." Margarita Petrovna gave the doctor a thumbs up. "But I'd still cut out her little tongue."

"Margarita." The doctor said, not distracted from his work. "Ask the executioner; he'll do everything in the best possible way."

"Oh, right." Margarita Petrovna snapped her fingers. "Who's on skinning duty today?"

"Andrei Borisovich." Finishing the examination of the girl's vagina, without removing the spreaders, he began feeling her breasts. "He's a pro; he'll skin her so the picture will be a sight to behold."

"And mine?" Margarita Petrovna asked, looking carefully at the doctor.

"Don't worry, Margo." The doctor winked at the woman. "He'll make a candy out of you."

"Oh." Margarita Petrovna smiled. "Flatterer."

"So, citizen Kukushkina A.V." The doctor said, freeing the girl. "You are free."

"Mmm..." Anya moaned, pointing first to her crotch, then to the tip of the hose sticking out of her nose, plugged with a stopper.

"And that." The doctor smiled widely. "...they'll remove just before the execution itself."

"Mmm..." Anya growled angrily, trying to sit on the couch, she gasped and immediately stood up, grabbing her rear. "Oom..."

"What, Kukushkina?" Margarita Petrovna laughed. "Can't sit down? Does your little bottom hurt?"

"Oom..." Anya shook her fists angrily in front of Margarita Pavlovna's face. But understanding that if she hit her, the doctor would do something else to her.

"Well, Margo." The doctor pointed to the freed chair and asked. "So, are you ready for the examination?"

"As always ready." Margarita Pavlovna settled on the chair, spreading her thick thighs. "Misha."

Twenty minutes later, the examination was over. The bellies of all three, including the plump Margarita Pavlovna, had increased in volume and acquired a rounded shape. Mikhail Alekseevich sat at the table and began filling out several forms, then handed them to his assistant Alexandra. She wrote something else in them, then stood up.

"So, girls and, ahem, lady." Sasha took shackles and put them on everyone's hands. "Now follow me."

"Misha." Margarita Petrovna said, blowing him an air kiss. "Goodbye, you're great."

Chapter 2

They left the office and, walking down the corridor, entered the elevator. Going up to the third floor, where the execution halls were located, they walked down a long corridor and entered door number 19. Finding herself in the hall and not finding the executioner or his assistant, Sasha immediately led everyone to the toilet. There, removing the plugs from their anuses, she let the girls and Margarita Pav