Vanessa said: ‘But it’s a big step from spanking and playing at bondage to letting yourselves become full-time …’ she sought for a better word but could not think of one ‘… professional slaves. As though it was a career. How did you make such a jump?’
‘It was answering the survey that started it for me,’ Fiona said.
‘And after going to the Fellgrish Institute, I knew for sure it was what I wanted to be,’ Madelyn added. Again they all nodded.
Vanessa tried to look as though she knew what they were talking about. ‘Oh, yes, the Institute. Tell me about that.’
Yvonne, a flush forming on her pale cheeks, said: ‘Well, it was embarrassing at first. All those tests and questions about sex. Having those devices stuck up inside you as you watched those videos, and so on. But as I went through the stages and the stricter it got, the better I liked it. You know what I mean.’
The other girls were nodding and grinning. Vanessa could not admit her ignorance now, so she had to phrase her next question carefully. ‘Didn’t you worry, while you were at the Institute, that you were being manipulated in some way? Led on?’
‘Oh no,’ Yvonne said quickly. ‘They were very careful to explain what would happen in each stage before I signed the consent forms. I knew exactly what I was doing. I wanted to keep going to find out how much I could take. When I passed the final test they told me about this place. Then it all made sense.’
It couldn’t be as simple as that, Vanessa thought. She said: ‘But how do you cope with the pain, the humiliation. Don’t you find it degrading?’
The girls looked slightly puzzled. ‘I suppose it is,’ Amber said, ‘but that’s part of the fun.’
‘You’re chained up right now,’ Vanessa persisted. ‘You’re locked up in a cage at night. You’re being taught how to give yourself to people as sex-slaves. You get beaten and abused. Most ordinary people would think you’d want to escape, that what was being done to you was wrong!’
There was an awkward pause, then Charlotte said: ‘It’s all about wanting not to have the choice, isn’t it? The thrill is in being helpless, thinking of what you’re going to be made to do. I can’t speak for anybody else, but for me it feels … right.’
‘What does it matter what ordinary people would think?’ Holly said. ‘We’re not ordinary, we’re special!’
Kashika spoke up, her voice as soft as before but carrying deep conviction. ‘A year ago I thought I was sick or something. Then I went to the Institute and found out I was not a freak, just different, and that I was not the only one who had these feelings. Now I’m here, being myself. I think it’s destiny.’ She clasped the chain running through her collar, joining her to the other girls. ‘For the first time in my life, I feel really free!’
Back in her flat that night Vanessa replayed her recording and tried to make sense of it all. The girls sounded so sincere, but then they would in such surroundings. Away from B3 it might be different, if they were not already too far gone to be saved. And what about this Fellgrish Institute? If that was where their conditioning had begun, the actual lure that drew the girls into slavery, then it was even more important than Shiller HQ. It was certainly worth investigating further. And who knew what chance she might have to escape her continuous monitoring if it involved travel outside the capital?
When she raised the idea with Zara the next day she responded more positively than Vanessa had hoped.
‘Yes, it might be an idea for you to visit the Institute,’ Zara agreed. ‘It’s on the outskirts of Oxford, so you could do it in a day. It ties in with the Cherry Chain articles: “Where it all began for the new girls”, perhaps. But the people at Fellgrish don’t like visitors interfering with their research schedule, so it might take a while to set up. I’ll see what I can do. Meanwhile, you’d better get that interview written up, then start on the thermal glass article for Datumline …’
The next issue of Girlflesh News came out a few days later, carrying her coverage of Cherry Chain’s initiation and the group interview. It was distributed to its highly select readership as a download, on disk or as limited hard-copy run. These were given away as a free-sheet in the B3 mews beside the other regular papers and magazines. Passing through on her way to the training yard, Vanessa could not help stopping to look through the issue.
Under the heading: ‘A new chain take their first steps’, was written: ‘by Vanessa B. your Slave Reporter’. What a feature to have her name associated with, Vanessa thought. Yet on display in this flesh-lined thoroughfare, it looked almost commonplace.
Several other girls who had been reading Girlflesh News stopped her to say how they liked the piece. Despite everything she felt flattered by their words. She picked up a few copies of the News to show Cherry Chain. On an impulse she also bought them a large selection box of sweets.
With glowing cheeks and vulvas still pink and puffy from whatever the latest sexual exercise they had been performing, the girls pored over the paper in their rest period, eating chocolates while admiring the graphic images of themselves. Vanessa looked on, both touched and dismayed by their reaction. What sort of madness was this when young women got excited reading about their own subjugation?
‘Will you be writing more about us?’ Holly asked.
‘I expect so,’ Vanessa said.
‘Will you do a special feature on our graduation?’ Amber asked.
‘Er … we’ll see,’ Vanessa said.
‘If you want any more treats you must duck for them,’ Miss Kyle announced, coming up quietly behind them.
In a minute she had cuffed the girls’ hands behind their backs and then pushed one chocolate each up into their vaginas. The chain had soon dissolved into a squirming, giggling mass of girls with their faces buried in each other groins and their tongues probing hot wet depths as they delved for the melting sweets.
Vanessa watched Kashika’s cheeks getting ever more smeared with chocolate as she slurped and sucked at Amber’s gaping love-mouth and felt a wild pang of desire and urge to join them. They seemed so innocently happy. No, she would resist. But she knew the longer she was part of this madness, the more it would seem normal.
At the end of Cherry Chain’s second week of training, a notice was posted on the training-yard door. Copies had already been posted in all the offices above.
CHERRY CHAIN
BREAKING IN TODAY
2 TO 6 PM
ALL WELCOME
FIRST SERVED,
FIRST COME
Vanessa found herself smiling at the last lines before she remembered what was going to happen.
A long tent had been erected in the yard. Cherry Chain waited nervously outside in a coffle, collars chained together in number order, wrists cuffed behind them, blindfold straps and ring-gags hanging ready about their necks.
Vanessa’s appearance was greeted with sudden smiles. She was the only person besides their trainers that the girls had had any real contact with since their initiation. As both a sister slave and reporter of their personal story, she had become a confidante and minor celebrity in their eyes, which made her feel uneasy.
‘Please wish us luck,’ Amber begged.
How could she do such a thing? It would seem as though she condoned what they were about to do. But she could not disappoint them.
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Good luck …’ And on an impulse she hugged Amber, feeling her large breasts press against her own, and then kissed her on the lips.
Then of course she had to hug and kiss them all in turn, working her way down the line. She tried not to linger when she reached Kashika, but she was acutely aware of the special scent of the Indian girl’s body, the hardness of her nipples, the moist willing warmth of her full lips. She let her hand slide briefly across the smooth curves of her buttocks, giving them an extra squeeze, then reluctantly broke her embrace and moved on to Lisa next in line.
With a final wave she turned quickly away from them, trying not to show her own arousal. Horrible as
it was to admit, nervous as they were, the girls were ready and eager for sex and it was impossible not to respond in kind.
But now she had to do her job. She was not going to be allowed in the tent while the chain girls were serving, so she had to record the scene before the customers arrived.
Inside the tent was divided down the middle by a long low continuous wooden rail, which had been crossed by post and canvas partitions, forming twelve narrow compartments with curtains at either end. The upright posts in each compartment were hung with cuffs and chains. A length of canvas rolled up like a blind hung across the middle of each compartment directly above its section of railing, which had foam padding bound around it. A second canvas screen also hung from the rail to the floor. Set to one side in each compartment was a swivel chair mounted on castors.
The attendants for Cherry Chain were already in place. Two dozen hooded girls wearing the green and pink collars of Apple and Carnation chains respectively, were tethered one on each side of the long rail. They were sitting cross-legged on little rubber mats with sponges, wipes and hoses by their sides. They were there to clean and freshen a girl’s mouth, vagina or anus as required between each user. It was very like the service Sandra had performed for Vanessa while she was on display in the mews cell. The thought deepened her arousal and she felt the familiar exciting warm slickness begin to ooze between her labia.
She tried to cover her body’s treacherous reaction by taking a flurry of pictures and making scribbled notes. Why was she responding in this way? What was planned here was almost an orchestrated gang rape. Yet the girls were pathetically willing. Was it the big tent that made it worse, lending the event a pseudo-public air, as though it were some bizarre sideshow at a fête?
Miss Kyle was walking round the tent making last-minute checks. Vanessa went over to her.
‘Why do they have to perform in a tent, Miss Kyle? Couldn’t you put them in cells in the Mall? At least they’d have a bit more privacy.’
‘I thought you understood by now that chain girls don’t expect privacy,’ Miss Kyle said curtly. ‘This way they can feel the movement of their sisters’ bodies through the rails, and know they are all experiencing the same sensations and serving the same purpose. But if it’s any comfort, they’ll get their chance to serve one-to-one in privacy next week. We’ll be holding a lottery and twelve lucky members of staff will be able to take a Cherry Chain girl home with them for a night. It’s a test of their confidence for those occasions when they have to serve individually.’
‘And I suppose being treated as raffle prizes is also good training, Miss Kyle?’ Vanessa said, an edge of sarcasm in her voice.
‘Of course. It teaches them that they belong to Shiller to do with as we wish – yet also that they are prized and have value. Who wouldn’t want such a gift?’ She grinned mischievously. ‘Even you might enjoy having a Cherry Chain girl as your sex-toy for a night. Or at least, one particular Cherry girl …’
Vanessa turned aside, blushing shamefully. She knew!
Cherry Chain was brought into the tent. Their coffle chains were unclipped and they were taken to their assigned compartments. The blindfold straps were pulled up into place. They not only held circular black-cushioned pads firmly over their eyes, but where the broad bands covered their ears they had integral foam plugs on their inside faces.
‘What they see and hear is unimportant from now on,’ Miss Kyle said. ‘It’ll also help them focus their attention …’
The girls were bent over the low padded rail and straps went across their backs to hold them in place. Their legs were spread and ankles cuffed to the upright side-posts. Their arms were unfastened, pulled up and back and cuffed to rings set in the posts above their waists. From the same rings hung a pair of light spring chains, the ends of which were hooked to moulded rings set in the back of their blindfold straps, supporting their heads and keeping them centred.
The enforced posture was similar to the one they had been put in when the three male trainers had used them front and rear. It might have been a rehearsal for this event. Now their mouths, breasts and genitals were positioned at the ideal height for male and female users alike, who might sit or stand to use them as they wished.
The canvas blinds were unrolled, dropping down around the girls’ waists. Semicircles cut out of the fabric enclosed them tightly. The trailing ends were tied to the cross-rail dividing the compartment in two, with a girl’s legs and body from the waist down on one side and from the waist up on the other. By this means two people could use her simultaneously without seeing each other.
With Vanessa trailing after her, Miss Kyle moved between the compartments, checking the girls’ bonds. She said: ‘For the next four hours they must pleasure any cock or cunt that’s presented to any of their orifices, singly or two at a time. It’s a test of their endurance and commitment, but I’m sure they’ll all pass.’ She looked at Vanessa. ‘Don’t you think they look incredibly fuckable right now?’
‘No, Miss Kyle,’ Vanessa said
‘You’re not tempted at all? You don’t wonder what it would be like to use them?’
‘Of course not!’
Miss Kyle suddenly reached out, grabbing a fistful of Vanessa’s hair in one hand and cupping her pubes with the other.
‘Liar! You’re hot and wet. You’re a slut at heart, just as I said the day we met. This turns you on.’ She thrust stiff fingers up Vanessa’s moist vagina. ‘Admit it!’
Vanessa gasped. ‘All right … I’m aroused! But it’s wrong!’
‘No it’s not, you stupid bitch! They want this …’
There was a growing murmur of voices from outside the tent. The first of the office staff were beginning to arrive.
‘Find out for yourself, then you might believe me …’
She pulled Vanessa’s arms behind her and clipped her cuffs to the back of her belt. Pushing her forwards she propelled her into one of the compartments and sat her down in the swivel chair.
Kashika’s upper body was spread out before Vanessa, seeming to burst out of the canvas screen. Her arms pulled back and behind her accentuated her neat, perfectly ripe breasts as they hung from her taut ribcage. Her brown nipples stood out in hard cones ready to be pinched and sucked and played with. Blindly she seemed to stare out at Vanessa, her lips slightly parted. The ring-gag dangled from her neck, there for any man to push between her teeth and force her mouth wide for his cock.
Still holding Vanessa by the hair, Miss Kyle tilted back the chair. Pinching Vanessa’s left nipple between finger and thumbnail, she hissed in her ear: ‘Open your legs or else!’
Trembling, Vanessa pulled her legs up and back, hooking her knees over the arms of the chair, exposing her pubic mound and shamefully glistening cleft. Looking down between her breasts she was horrified to see her clitoris swelling up from the gaping valley of her already engorged labia. Miss Kyle pushed the chair forwards, ramming Vanessa’s pubes into Kashika’s face. Immediately, the Cherry Chain slave-girl began to nuzzle and lick her way deep into the sheath of wet, perfumed flesh.
Vanessa groaned and shuddered, unable to resist her touch. Kashika’s tongue was like a darting snake, slithering into every fold, teasing her clitoris into painful hardness. She had never felt such a powerful response to another girl. Her juices streamed from her, wetting her bottom and glistening on Kashika’s dark skin. Kashika gasped as somebody on the other side of the canvas divide started using her from behind, but she continued dutifully licking Vanessa out.
Too soon it was over. Vanessa arched her back in orgasmic spasm as she came, grinding her vulva into the face of the girl she now knew, in that stark moment of perfect release, she adored utterly and completely.
Ten
VANESSA HAD NEVER known such guilt as she felt the day after Cherry Chain’s breaking-in. Though it was wrong, she could not forget Kashika’s tonguing and the power of the orgasm it had ignited. She had to face the fact that she was becoming dangerously obsessed with Kashika,
and that it was distorting her judgement. She must escape before she was swallowed up in this twisted world of slavery and submission and no longer knew right from wrong. And, if possible, get Kashika out as well. But how?
Zara apparently sensed nothing of her inner anguish and sent her down to B3 to record the Chain’s reactions to their marathon sex-session. Vanessa went with dragging feet. How could she possibly face Kashika after what had happened? Just because she did not know Vanessa had been her first user did not diminish her own sense of shame. Yet at the same time that part of her unhindered by conscience longed to see her.
She found Cherry Chain had been excused any sexual training to allow them to recover and were out on to the exercise track to do laps. Making her way to the perimeter she soon saw them coming into view.
They were not running because coffle chains linked their collars and they had wooden yokes bound across their shoulders. As they appeared she saw they were gazing about them at the vistas of the secret level, which they had hardly seen since their initiation. Catching sight of Vanessa they smiled and called out to her, and she fell into step beside them.
Their arms were held outstretched by the yokes, strapped to them at the wrists and elbows. Chains ran down from the yoke and crossed their chests, dividing and lifting their breasts. Pairs of lighter chains clamped to their nipples ran forwards to snap on to a link midway along the chain joining their collars. If the heavier chain grew tight it would deliver a warning tug, encouraging them to keep in step and not lag behind.
They had been arranged according to their Chain number, so Amber was in the lead. As she had no girl in front, her nipple chains ran back over her shoulders to link with the coffle chain at the point where they joined with those of Charlotte.
Trailing last in line by number order, Yvonne had been fitted with a lap counter wheel that clicked away the distance the Chain had travelled. The upward-curving handle of the wheel was plugged into her rear. Vanessa noticed their pubes and bottoms were blotched and sore and glistened with salve. They looked tired but undeniably content.
The Girlflesh Institute (Nexus) Page 15