But not impossible, she reminded herself. This was another test of her submissive ideals. She was a Shiller girl and she was bound and naked and she could still feel sperm oozing out of her anus. That was what she lived for. This pain was not the end but merely foreplay for her next user. The liquid heat of anticipation began to flow back into her loins. So she moaned and whimpered pitifully, satisfying her abuser, and savoured her discomfort.
When the needle rings were completed on her buttocks he made one final addition to the artistry he had performed on her backside to complete her shaming. He took a daffodil from the vase by her bed and thrust the thick sappy stalk up her still-distended anus, leaving the bright yellow flower head jutting out from its fleshy cleft. It was sexual gardening, Vanessa thought as he drew back the curtains and left her for all to see. A flower planted in an earthy hole he had opened up with his dibber and fertilised with his own seed.
Vanessa remained on display, much to her discomfort and the amusement of the other doctors, for an hour until Julie 5 came in. She removed the daffodil and the needles, placing furtive kisses on her sore cheeks as she did so. Then she applied some soothing cream, turned Vanessa over onto her back once more, flushed out and wiped her down.
As she worked on her, Julie whispered encouragingly: ‘The clients have to leave the ward by nine and then you and the Sapphires can rest. We’re still fair game, though. The clients staying overnight have the keys to the nurses’ rooms. Then it’s our turn to get gang-banged in our beds!’
While she was feeding her supper, Julie said something that moved Vanessa deeply. ‘I think it’s great how you’re ready to let yourself get screwed like the rest of us. You haven’t just taken pictures of us getting fucked and then done a few interviews. The others think the same. I used to think white-collar girls were a bit superior, you know, but not you. Reading your stuff in GN makes us feel more connected and worthwhile, somehow. At times, when I have doubts about living like this, that helps a lot.’
Fortunately a mouthful of food prevented Vanessa from responding at that moment but she had to fight back a tear. What they read in GN really meant so much to them. Though they loved their strange way of life it was secretive and not something they could share beyond their chain sisters and company workers. How many had family or friends in the outside world they could never tell? There would always be that nagging sense of shame for what they were. Perhaps GN helped give them a greater sense of unity, knowing that other members of the company could learn what it truly felt like to be a slave?
Whatever the reason, Vanessa silently resolved never again to be tempted to do it the easy way. Hands-on would always mean hands-on. Do it for real first and only then write about it.
When supper was done Julie paused as she was about to place a fresh strapping over Vanessa’s mouth, glanced round quickly, and then stole another kiss.
‘I really hope we can meet up again.’
Vanessa felt a lump in her throat. No other slaves could be this considerate of each other. They were all family, bond-sisters. That’s what made them unique.
The ward closed and the ‘doctors’ finally departed. The Canary girl nursing staff cleaned up and then dimmed the lights and left the ‘patients’ to sleep. Despite having spent most of the day in bed they were exhausted by the ‘treatments’ and ‘examinations’ they had undergone and badly needed the rest. They would be woken the next morning at seven and the ward would open for the first ‘doctor’s rounds’ at eight. Though their gags were removed overnight, the bandages on their hands stayed and naturally they remained cuffed to their beds. But sleeping in restraints came as second nature to Shiller girls and bothered them very little.
Not being able to play with themselves was more of a frustration. Those girls who still had an excess of sluttish need in them even after their exertions of the day could not bleed it off. It would just have to be stored up for the clients to release the next day. Vanessa found being forced to sleep alone even more of a burden. She longed to sleep with Kashika in her arms. Julie 5 would have been a very acceptable temporary substitute but she was also denied her. Vanessa had learned that being a slave and loving another slave also meant surrendering such choices to others. Still, it made those times when they could be together all the more intense.
She went to sleep thinking of Kashika’s lovely body curled up against hers. And to think only a few months ago she had not even suspected she could lust for another woman. How her life had been transformed …
A pair of respectable-looking middle-aged men in white coats, referring to each other with mock solemnity as ‘Doctor Foster’ and ‘Doctor Gloucester’, visited Vanessa next morning. They gave her a long examination, involving much poking and prodding in every orifice, and then conferred with each other very loudly in Vanessa’s hearing.
‘Loose in the limbs but hot in the slot, Gloucester,’ said Foster.
‘Quite so, Foster,’ Gloucester agreed, ‘aggravating her rounded heels which give her the tendency to fall on her back with her legs open.’
‘A sad case but what’s to be done?’
‘Casts and traction, perhaps?’
‘It’s her only chance of ever getting straightened out.’ Foster snapped his fingers at the Canary nurse who had been attending them dutifully. ‘Take her to the casting room at once. Meanwhile have traction stands set up in here and put out a number three tray.’
‘At once, Doctor.’
Five minutes later Vanessa was being rolled down a corridor inside an Alves frame propelled by a pair of nurses while Foster and Gloucester strode along behind, each man bearing himself with an air of profound importance. The frame was turned sideways to its direction of motion and Vanessa was very aware of how she must look; raised up high on the frame base and suspended within the oblong of tubular metal by her straps like a fly trapped in a web. They passed several doctors, nurses and clinic staff along the way who looked her naked body over with interest as they went by. Her sense of helpless exposure was acute and very arousing. But were they really going to go through with the messy business of putting casts on her?
The casting room turned out to be perfectly clean without a single roll of plaster bandage to be seen. About a large central table were racks of shelves containing a selection of ready-made and foam-lined medical-blue resin casts in different shapes and sizes. They were split into sections that only needed taping together. Each cast had metal rings embedded in its sides and ends.
The doctors supervised as Vanessa was laid out flat on the table and the frame straps were swapped for cuffs linked to wire ropes and crank handles. She was pulled tight and spreadeagled.
‘Now,’ Foster said, rubbing his hands and turning to the racks of casts. ‘I’d say she’ll take mediums, but what types shall we have?’
‘I think straight extensions for the limbs with maximum immobility, but leaving the torso uncovered,’ Gloucester suggested.
‘It would certainly be a pity to cover her torso. Such pretty tits … But what about a neck brace?’
‘Good idea. And a facemask for increased constraint?’
‘Shame to cover her face. I like to see ’em crumple up and cry.’
‘Her eyes will still be able to roll about. And look, there’s a tinted one here with a tongue clamp.’
‘Well, that’s different. Girls have got to learn to curb their tongues.’
‘Right, then, let’s get her fitted out …’
Gleefully the pair fitted the casts onto Vanessa’s limbs while the two nurses stood by holding repair-tape dispensers. They cut and handed the doctors lengths of tape as required that were bound about the sections of the casts, sealing them tight. Vanessa’s legs were encased from ankles to mid-thighs and her arms from wrists to shoulders. A high flared brace, covering her from collarbones to chin, was closed about her neck. The bandages were unwound from her head and the tape pulled from her lips, but they were replaced with a mask of rigid blue-tinted plastic that fitted tightly over
her face, with holes only over her eyes, nostrils and an O-shaped mouth. It was held in place by five broad straps passing round the back of her head in pairs below and above her ears and singly across her crown. An adjustable metal clamp was fitted across the mouth hole. Her tongue was pulled through this and the clamp jaws closed about it, so that its pink tip protruded from the plastic hole.
Vanessa felt the compression of the mask on her face forcing it into near immobility. Now even her range of expressions was being limited. Her tongue was held so she could not speak. All she could do was plead mutely with her eyes for them to be kind to her while secretly hoping they would not.
‘Now let’s get her into traction,’ Foster said.
Being wheeled back to the ward in her frame she savoured her new restraints. The tight constriction of the padded casts held her limbs rigidly straight and the neck-brace made it impossible to turn her head, leaving her hardly more flexible than a shop-window dummy. She swayed in her straps so stiffly it almost seemed as though she was standing to attention. And what were they going to do with her when after she was put into traction? Her pussy pulsed hot and wet in anticipation.
Metal posts supporting pulley blocks, weights and wire cords had been fitted to the corners of her bed. She was placed between them and the snaplink ends of the cords were hooked to the rings in the ends of her casts. Then the weights were hung on the dangling cord ends. Vanessa’s immobile limbs were pulled out wide and lifted off the bed until they were elevated to about forty-five degrees. And there she hung, splayed wide and inviting, exposed and helpless. The blue casts enclosing her limbs, neck and face made them seem disconnected and artificial, focusing the eye on the pale bare living flesh of her torso. The red of her swollen nipples, rising and falling with her trembling breasts and the dark pink glistening gash of her sex, open to any who looked up at her from the foot of the bed, stood out clearly.
Foster and Gloucester admired their handiwork for a minute, then Foster said to one of the Canary nurses: ‘Bring Nurse Julie here …’
Vanessa stiffened. What were they doing?
In a minute Julie 5 entered the cubicle. She flashed a quick glance at Vanessa’s stretched and splayed body, then said meekly to Foster: ‘You sent for me, Doctor?’
Foster and Gloucester adopted stern expressions.
‘It has come to our attention, Nurse,’ Gloucester said with ponderous solemnity, ‘that you have been having improper relations with this patient!’
‘You have been taking a suspiciously long time attending her needs and on one occasion you were observed actually kissing her,’ Foster explained. ‘That was not in her treatment schedule.’
‘Well, Nurse, what have you got to say for yourself?’ Gloucester demanded.
Julie adopted a suitably shamed and contrite expression, biting her lip and hanging her head. ‘I’m sorry, Doctor. I couldn’t help myself.’
‘Naturally this sort of unprofessional behaviour cannot be tolerated,’ said Gloucester.
‘You must both be severely punished,’ said Foster with undisguised relish. ‘Take off your clothes …’
Julie looked convincingly horrified. ‘Oh, Doctor, I couldn’t. Please don’t make me …’
‘Strip!’ Gloucester thundered.
Miserably Julie obeyed.
Vanessa had already seen Julie’s pretty breasts and now the rest of her was revealed. She had a lovely curvy body with rounded buttocks and a small severely trimmed triangle of golden hair above her deep cleft. With her uniform lying about her ankles Julie stood before them dressed only in her cap, a picture of shame with blushing cheeks, ineffectually trying to hide herself from their gaze.
Foster uncovered an equipment tray that had been placed on the bedside locker. By rolling her eyes sideways Vanessa could just see it contained a large double-ended dildo, encircled in the middle by a disc of rubber. One side of the disc was plain while the other was studded with sharp metal studs. There was also a pair of spanking paddles with flat rubber blades and bulbous phallus handles.
‘Plug the smooth side up your cunt and the other into her,’ Foster commanded Julie. ‘We’ll spank you until we see her cry and then orgasm. The harder you try the easier and quicker it’ll be.’
With trembling hands, Julie took up the dildo, spread her legs and fed one end up inside herself until the rubber pad was pressed against her mound while the doctors looked on grinning. Then she climbed onto the bed and edged forward, the rubber shaft bobbing ahead of her, until she was kneeling between Vanessa’s splayed and raised legs. Her hands rested on either side of the captive girl’s chest and she looked down into the wide eyes staring up out of the mask.
Sorry, Julie mouthed as she lined up the tip of the dildo with Vanessa’s gaping pussy mouth. Vanessa tried to force a smile under her mask to show she knew Julie was just obeying orders, as any good company slave should. Pleasing their masters of the moment was all that mattered. Julie thrust into her. Vanessa’s mound bulged as her passage was filled and then the sharp studs ground into her soft vulval flesh.
Vanessa’s eyes bulged and a distorted scream issued from her tongue-clamped mouth. Her inner lips, peeled back by the thickness of the shaft between them, felt like they were being used for pincushions.
Swish, smack!
Foster and Gloucester had taken up position on either side of the bed and were swiping the paddles across Julie’s bobbing bottom. Julie yelped but kept on thrusting, making Vanessa whimper in turn.
Through her own rapidly misting eyes Vanessa saw Julie’s eyes begin to glisten. Well, the doctor’s had their tears already. Now to turn the pain into pleasure like good slave girls should, savouring the smack of rubber on resilient bottom flesh, sharp girlish gasps and groans, the sucking of rubber shafts within clinging wet passages, the musky scent of arousal, the heat of two bodies intertwined, breasts grinding together, hard nipples trailing through each other’s soft billows and metal studs digging into sticky flesh lips. The two men sweated away wielding paddles while watching suffering slave girls perform thinking this was all for their pleasure, when secretly Vanessa knew it was almost exactly the reverse. Under those circumstances a climax was not a distant goal but a rapidly approaching inevitability.
Vanessa bucked and jerked as far as her casts and traction cables allowed, setting the weights swinging as she clenched at the rubber shaft inside her. Julie dipped her head and kissed the clamped tip of her tongue as she also went into spasm. Their sweaty bodies rubbed frantically together and then subsided into blissful stillness.
But now the doctors needed their release.
Foster managed to clamber onto the bed first. Tearing open his flies he dragged Julie’s unresisting legs wide, prised apart her buttocks and rammed his cock into her greased bottom hole. Vanessa groaned as his weight joined that of Julie on top of her. But such was his passion that it was not there for long before he came with a gasp of triumph.
He had hardly finished spouting before Gloucester, who had already exposed his stiff shaft in anticipation and was red in the face with need, dragged him out of the way and took his place. Tearing the dildo out of the twin passages it was filling with a double plop, he rammed between Vanessa’s sore lovelips and spent himself within her hot passage.
We’ve given satisfaction, Vanessa thought with pride.
Vanessa was left in her casts all day. Several more clients, attracted by her inviting posture, novel immobility and the red blaze of her pubic lips, took advantage of her. Occasionally she saw Julie bustling about performing her duties. She moved a little stiffly but there was a barely suppressed grin on her face. As she passed she flashed Vanessa a quick smile.
Briefly Vanessa allowed herself to daydream about having Julie and Kashika both trying to please her at the same time. And if she wished it need not be just a dream. She shivered. Was all this adoration going to her head?
That night her casts were removed and she was able to bend her limbs once more, as far as her cuffs allowed.
She’d recommend casts to any girl but they did make you stiff afterward, she thought ruefully.
Next morning the nurses put her into a frame before the first doctor stepped onto the ward.
‘You’ve been booked for the operating theatre,’ one whispered as they wheeled her off. ‘First on the list …’
The operating theatre was a dark room with a narrow heavy padded and black vinyl-covered table in its centre, brilliantly illuminated by a cluster of overhead spotlights. The table was fitted with hinged extension arms, also padded. Two were set at right angles to its top and two made a ‘V’ from off its foot. Beside the table was a monitor screen and machine on a stand. It had switches and dials on its front and transparent air hoses extending from its back. An array of clear plastic cups and what looked like inverted test tubes of different sizes, all with valve connections on their tops and flared bases, were set out beside the device. There was also a tube of petroleum jelly and a spanking paddle.
Vanessa was laid on the table and spread out, her arms extended straight from her shoulders and her legs parted at ninety degrees. Black rubber straps were fastened over her wrists, elbows, in a cross over her chest between her breasts, over her midriff, about her thighs, knees and ankles, pulling her firmly down into the padding. Her bandage gag was pulled off and a clear plastic dummy gag was pushed between her teeth.
Then the nurses left the room. For a moment Vanessa though she was alone. Then a man in cap, mask and gown stepped out of the shadows. His hands were encased in latex gloves and he held them in front of him like a surgeon about to operate. The light glinted off familiar spectacles. He was the first-time master she had served in the examination room the day she had arrived at the clinic. Her stomach did a little flip-flop. She’d peed on this man …
The Girlflesh Castle Page 4