Zara began to thrust up Vanessa’s rear, grinding her body over Jude’s soft fleshy form, the two dildos so close together inside her, sucking and pumping within her most intimate spaces. She was a slave-girl filling between the two lesbian lovers. A girlflesh plaything. A nothing, or an everything?
With a choking shriek she jerked her hips frantically as she came and came. It was the most intense thing she had ever known.
The next morning, stiff and sore inside, Vanessa ate breakfast bent over the bowls set out as the previous night in the corner of the kitchen. She felt herself in a half-dream state, still shattered by the intensity of her orgasm. She was fearful of what they had done to her yet knew she would react the same way if they did it all again. She really was a terrible slut.
Jude and Zara sat at the kitchen table. Suddenly Vanessa realised they were talking in increasingly louder and clearer voices about her.
‘… and she accused me of not understanding what the Cherry Girls would be feeling after their raffle night out,’ Zara was saying.
Jude chuckled. ‘Silly girl. Doesn’t she realise yet?’
‘Nope.’
‘And she’s supposed to be a reporter?’
‘Yes, but what sort of reporter can’t see clues even when they’re literally right … under … her … nose?’
Vanessa stopped eating. What? She lifted her head and for the first time looked properly at her food bowls.
Worn and chipped but still readable were the inscriptions: JUDITH 7 SAFFRON and ZARA 12 SAFFRON
Her dominating mistresses had both been Shiller slaves!
Eleven
THE CHERRY CHAIN raffle took place the next morning. Zara said she would cover it, so Vanessa was spared the degrading spectacle. It suited her as she was still coming to terms with the idea of Zara and Jude having been former Shiller slaves.
Vanessa glanced round the office with searching eyes. Were Rona and Pru former slaves as well? How many others? What percentage of women in the whole building had once served in chains down in level B3? Half of them? More? It might explain Shillers’ low turnover of staff and their obvious familiarity with slaves. But they were clearly not controlled and monitored as she was out of the office. They were free to do what they wanted.
Even if that was working for the company that had formerly enslaved them?
Was it conditioning and brainwashing on a huge scale? Or were Zara and Jude and their conveniently named and numbered bowls simply clever plants? Or had she been wrong all along? Could there really be such things as willing slaves, not as sad isolated cases, but by the hundreds? Where did the truth lie?
‘Look what I’ve won!’
Zara strode proudly into the main office. Everybody turned to look at her. She held the end of her red leash in one hand. On the other end, shuffling along on her hands and knees with a flush of excitement on her lovely face, was Kashika.
For the rest of the morning, Zara sent Kashika scurrying about the office delivering messages and carrying notes and files in her mouth like a dog. She was playing with her raffle prize by showing her off to the rest of the staff. As Kashika passed her desk she flashed Vanessa bright smiles, as much as to say: ‘Look at me, I’m a proper slave now!’
At lunchtime Zara took Kashika on her red leash up to the restaurant, leaving Vanessa to her packed lunch. Briefly Vanessa felt a perverse twinge of jealousy at the thought of Kashika up there eating from a bowl beside Zara’s table and then she firmly quashed the idea. How could she be jealous of Kashika? It was Zara who was playing games, taunting her with her new girl-toy.
When they returned, Kashika’s face was even more flushed and suspiciously shiny. Vanessa knew Zara had taken her for a trip to the bathroom. She hoped it hadn’t been too much of a trial for her. Then she thought of what she knew Kashika had already endured in training and realised her concerns were ridiculous. The hardest thing to accept was that the girl appeared to be enjoying herself. But that could not be right!
It was mid-afternoon when Zara sent Kashika out with a message summoning Vanessa to her office. Mystified, Vanessa followed her back.
Blushing slightly as she delivered her customary pussy-kiss in front of Kashika, Vanessa sat back on her haunches expectantly. Kashika had taken up a position by Zara’s chair, crouching on a blanket and resting her cheek against Zara’s leg, as she had no doubt been instructed. Vanessa ached at the sight of her.
Zara considered Vanessa thoughtfully before speaking. ‘I was looking forward to taking this pretty thing …’ she stroked Kashika’s hair ‘… home to play with tonight. But something’s come up and I’ve got to go out of town. Jude’s also busy this evening, so it looks like I’ll have to pass. Now, I could raffle her again around the office, but then I thought of you. Everybody can see you’ve got wet knickers over her.’ Vanessa lowered her eyes in acute embarrassment. ‘Yes, you want her and don’t dare try to deny it!’
Vanessa looked up again and nodded mutely. She saw Kashika staring at her in wonder and delight.
Zara grinned mischievously. ‘But I was wondering just what you’d do for a night with her? How much are you prepared to give?’
Vanessa’s mind whirled. Zara was playing one of her games, wanting to see how far she could make Vanessa humiliate herself. Yet that knowledge was nothing in the face of the hot, liquid lust filling her loins at the idea of a night alone with Kashika. Then another possibility struck her. A harder choice but perhaps her last chance to test the truth.
Vanessa slowly smiled, shuffled forwards, nuzzled under Zara’s skirt and kissed her pussy again, flicking her tongue-tip into the wet cleft. ‘I’d do whatever you want, Mistress Editor …’ she said huskily.
Bent over Zara’s knees, Vanessa yelped and sobbed and moaned as the ruler smacked repeatedly into her bottom, turning it into a blaze of burning scarlet strips. Kashika looked on with wide fascinated eyes, her hand slipped between her thighs, her fingers busy.
‘What are you?’ Zara demanded.
‘Aww! … a slutty … eeek! … bitch, Mistress!’ Vanessa gasped.
‘What are you good for?’
‘Screwing … ahhoww! … and licking and … owww! … beating!’
‘Again, what are you?’
‘Your slave, Mistress … uhh! … your piece of girlflesh … aaah! … your sex toy!’
‘What do you want to do?’
‘I want … ahhh! … to please you … owww! … in any way you … aww! … want, Mistress!’
Abruptly Zara pushed Vanessa off her knees on to the floor.
Vanessa snivelled and wiped her streaming eyes, then resumed her normal submissive pose and looked up appealingly at Zara. ‘Your bitch needs to go to the bathroom, Mistress. Will you take her?’
Inside the toilet stall, Vanessa laid her neck across the rim of the seat, her nose brushing the pubic hair of Zara’s moist pussy. She could smell the older woman’s excitement. Her heart was thudding and she felt dizzy with her wild purpose. The knowledge that it was the height of perversion to ask to be treated like this was teasing the back of her mind. Even so the pulse was swelling in her vulva at the degrading thrill of it. She had to get away, she had to get away!
She raised her eyes to Zara’s triumphant face. ‘Pee on me, Mistress,’ she begged. ‘It’s all I’m good for.’
Zara smiled. ‘Open you mouth …’
And Vanessa did so.
A little later, washed and cleaned and back at her desk, the chair seat feeling like sandpaper against her smarting bottom, Vanessa tried to think clearly. When the moment came she would only have one chance to get it right. Could she rely on Kashika to react quickly enough? The girl was so ingrained to her slavish way of thinking she might not respond. But how to prime her without being seen or heard? There was no guarantee of having sufficient privacy before leaving to tell her, and once she was plugged into her spywear there would be no chance. She could write a note for Kashika now easily enough, but how and when could she pass it to her? Za
ra was going to be playing with her until the last minute. Besides, they would be searched before leaving the building, and even a note secreted in that most feminine of hiding places would be found.
It took several minutes before the solution came to her.
At five-thirty Zara appeared with Kashika on her leash trotting along obediently at her heel. She handed Vanessa a black holdall.
‘There are a few things in here you might like to try on Kashika when you get her home,’ she said, adding with a knowing grin: ‘I think you’ll both enjoy using them.’
Kashika smiled shyly. Vanessa said meekly: ‘Thank you, Mistress Editor.’
‘And you promise to take good care of her?’
Poker-faced, Vanessa said: ‘I promise, Mistress Editor.’
Zara travelled down with them in the lift to B3 and walked as far as the slave doors leading to the locker rooms. ‘Have fun,’ she said. ‘And don’t be afraid to be strict …’
As she followed Kashika’s perfect bottom through the short tunnel Vanessa congratulated herself on her foresight. There had been no chance to pass verbal instructions. As long as Jarvis didn’t find her note.
Jarvis was at his desk as usual. They shuffled over and kissed his boots. ‘Please, Mr Jarvis,’ Vanessa said. ‘I have permission to take Kashika home with me.’
‘So I’ve been told, girl. You going to write another of your articles about it?’
‘I might, Mr Jarvis.’
He led them through to the locker room. Commanding Kashika to stand first he looked her up and down, then tweaked her nipples in a playful fashion, making her giggle. ‘No need for a bra to hold these titties up,’ he said.
From a locker Jarvis took out sandals, panties, jeans and a tight white T-shirt, with a light scarf to cover her collar.
‘Want her hobbled?’ he asked Vanessa as Kashika dressed.
‘No thank you, Mr Jarvis,’ Vanessa said. ‘I’m sure that won’t be necessary.’
Kashika watched with intense interest as Jarvis removed Vanessa’s slave chains and began fitting her with the spywear.
‘It’s a special range of remote slave control gear I’m testing out for the Director,’ Vanessa explained quickly, as she bent over and held her ankles while Jarvis slipped the panty phalluses into her.
She saw Jarvis smile but he did not contradict her.
Making the most of the opportunity she added, while Jarvis cupped her breasts into the control bra: ‘With this lot on everything I look at or say can be monitored. The bra and phalluses can deliver punishment shocks and the choker can stop me saying the wrong things.’
Kashika’s nipples were standing up through the thin material of her top. ‘That’s amazing!’ she exclaimed, looking impressed. ‘Do you think I could try them sometime?’
Please let me get away from here before I begin to believe that’s a normal thing for a girl to wish for, Vanessa thought desperately.
When they were both dressed, they took the lift back up to B2 and Vanessa led Kashika to her car. Vanessa’s heart was thudding as they passed through the barriers but they were waved on with no more than a wolfish grin from the guard.
Kashika looked about her as they threaded their way through the evening traffic. ‘I’d forgotten how busy the city is. I’m not sure I like it so much now. It’s so much more peaceful down in B3.’
Vanessa was only half listening. Her objective wasn’t far. With her eyes still fixed on the road ahead she reached behind her seat to where she had been careful to put her hat and pulled the Press card out of the band. Unfolding it with her fingers she slid it across into Kashika’s lap and eased it into her open hand.
‘Yes,’ she said loudly to cover any sound Kashika might make, ‘it can be a pain getting into work sometimes. I know I should use public transport more often, but I like my car …’
Suddenly she pulled over and stopped. Just beyond a parade of shops ahead was the blue lamp of a police station.
‘Get out now!’ she shouted to Kashika, bracing her hands on the steering wheel, expecting the paralysing pain to course through her at any second.
But Kashika was frowning at the message written on the inside of the card.
‘What does it mean? Is it a game?’
DON’T SPEAK BECAUSE I’M BUGGED.
YOU’RE FREE, NOT A SLAVE!
WHEN I STOP RUN TO THE POLICE STATION.
I WON’T BE ABLE TO FOLLOW.
YOU MUST TELL THEM EVERYTHING!
‘Go!’ Vanessa snapped, wondering why she could still speak.
Then Shiller’s voice sounded in her ear. ‘Kashika is not going to run to the police, Puppet. Hard as it clearly is for you to accept, she’s a natural slave. She has nothing to escape from. She is happy just as she is.’
Vanessa looked at Kashika’s mystified face and realised the truth of it. The poor girl was not going to move. It was all over. She slumped forwards, feeling empty, defeated.
‘What do I do now, Monitor?’ she asked miserably.
‘Continue on to your flat and enjoy Kashika as she expects you to, of course,’ Shiller said. ‘Take the opportunity to talk to her. Convince yourself of the truth.’
‘But … aren’t you going to punish me, Monitor?’
‘For what? You have not attempted to escape yourself, only to save another human being you thought, however misguidedly, was being oppressed. Why would I punish an act of compassion? But we will talk further in the morning. Now, I think you are parked on a double yellow line, Puppet, so I suggest you move on.’ And her voice cut off.
‘Please,’ Kashika asked plaintively. ‘Who are you talking to? What’s all this mean?’
With a sigh, Vanessa started the car again and pulled back out into the traffic. ‘You’d better know the truth. I really work for a paper called the Daily Globe. A few weeks ago I broke into the Shiller building …’
Vanessa finished her story as she opened the door of her flat. Kashika looked about her curiously as they passed through to the sitting room.
‘So, all these mirrors have cameras and microphones hidden in them?’ she said.
‘Yes.’
‘And you wear a control collar all the time you’re here?’
‘That’s right. I suppose I’d better put it on. It’s a bit less uncomfortable than all this gear.’
Kashika followed Vanessa through to her bedroom and watched with interest as she stripped off, donned her house collar and plugged in her spywear to recharge.
‘Can I strip as well?’ Kashika asked, as Vanessa reached for her gown. ‘I’ve sort of got out of the habit of wearing clothes.’
‘Of course,’ Vanessa smiled.
Kashika gratefully peeled off her clothes and they sat side by side on the bed, naked except for their collars. Vanessa became aware of the warmth radiating from Kashika’s body. She could smell her scent. She was so lovely …
‘You really let Zara spank you and risked getting the Director angry just to save me?’ Kashika asked.
‘Well, I hoped it would mean I’d get free as well,’ Vanessa said quickly to hide her embarrassment. ‘But I did hate the thought of you being treated like a slave any more. Or the rest of Cherry Chain.’
‘But couldn’t you tell we were loving it? We’re submissive masochists. We enjoy pain and bondage.’
Vanessa sighed. ‘I found it so hard to believe. I still do to tell the truth. I thought you’d all been brainwashed or something, but if you were taken away from Shillers you’d snap out of it. That sounds pretty stupid now. Sorry.’
‘I think it sounds kind and brave,’ Kashika said, kissing Vanessa lightly on the shoulder. Then she slid down off the bed to kneel before Vanessa, thighs spread wide, hands folded neatly behind her back. Her eyes were sparkling with anticipation and her nipples stood rigidly erect. ‘Maybe the best way to prove I enjoy what I am is a practical demonstration. What do you want to do with me first … Mistress?’
Vanessa swallowed hard. ‘I’m … not your Mistress
.’
‘You are for tonight, Mistress. I was given to you to be your pleasure slave. Make me please you.’
‘You know everything we do will be watched?’
‘I think that makes it more exciting, Mistress. Would you like me to see what Mistress Zara put in that bag? There’s bound to be something interesting. A big vibrator, maybe, or a spanking paddle …’
‘I don’t want to hurt you!’
‘It won’t hurt, Mistress, I promise!’
As Vanessa hesitated, Miss Kyle’s voice sounded from the bed speakers. ‘If you don’t know what to do with her, girl, I’ll tell you!’
Kashika lay on her back on the bed, her limbs drawn out to its four corners where the integral cuffs held her tight. Her knees were slightly bent and drawn both up and out by broad cuffs whose unyielding wire cables extended from holsters in the middle of the bed sides. This tension forced her legs to turn outwards from the hip, the sides of her feet pulled flat to the covers and displaying the soft flesh of her inner thighs.
Her honey dark mound of Venus and its sparse crown of tight dark curls were totally exposed. Her swollen inner labia rose out of her gaping love-mouth, whose coral-pink depths glistened with her juices. A trickle from her weeping sex ran down to her anus, whose dark crinkled well-pit bulged about the girth of a large silver vibrator that purred softly as it tormented her entrails with its promise. Elastic cords looped about her thighs and clipped to rings on the vibrator base ensured it stayed firmly in place. The sheet under her bottom was damp with her spilled lubrication.
Metal clamps linked by a short chain painfully compressed the hard cones of her dark-brown nipples. A bar-gag filled her mouth, stretching her lips back to expose her white teeth, which clamped hard on the rubber bit. Her large brown eyes were locked on to Vanessa as she stood over her, swatting the rubber paddle once more down on her helpless body.
Vanessa had an anal lock plugged into her, trailing the cable behind her like a tail as she moved round the bed. Warning jolts had been needed at first to encourage her to use the paddle, and she had flinched at the smack it made, the darkening mark it had left on the smooth tan flesh and the tears it had brought to Kashika’s eyes.
The Girlflesh Institute (Nexus) Page 17