The Girlflesh Institute (Nexus) (21 page)

Zara took a fistful of Vanessa’s hair and twisted it hard. ‘While you’re in our house you won’t speak a word, because play-bitches don’t talk! You’ve had enough to say for yourself so far, now it’s time to listen and learn like a proper reporter. Understand?’

Vanessa nodded and whimpered.

Removing her ankle hobble, Zara led Vanessa through a side door into a well-fitted kitchen. A woman who had been seated at the kitchen table got up as they entered.

‘I’m home, Jude,’ Zara said cheerfully.

Jude was an attractive, fortyish blonde with a shining creamy smooth skin. She was shorter and plumper than Zara, with prominent breasts. She came forwards and kissed Zara on the lips with uninhibited affection, then looked Vanessa up and down.

‘So this is Vanessa. You’re right, she is pretty. Let’s have a proper look at her …’

Leading Vanessa by her cuffed hands, she bent her backwards over the kitchen table. With her free hand she squeezed and pinched Vanessa’s breasts and
tested
the firmness of her stomach. A casual slap on the inner thigh made Vanessa spread her legs wider so that Jude could examine her pubes. She stroked Vanessa’s soft curls, flicked the swelling nub of her clit, making her yelp behind her gag, and probed the mouth of her vagina.

‘Already juicing, that’s good,’ Jude said, withdrawing her wet and sticky fingers. She smelt the exudation. ‘Nice …’ she offered her hand for Zara to sniff.

‘I know,’ Zara agreed. ‘She’s a natural slut at heart, but she won’t let herself admit it.’

Jude grinned. ‘Then we’ll have to see what we can do to change that.’

Jude flipped Vanessa over on to her front so that she could view her bottom, cupping and kneading the pliant hemispheres, then pulling them apart to examine the rose of her anus.

‘You didn’t have her washed and greased?’

‘I thought we could do that.’

Jude grinned. ‘That’ll be fun.’ Suddenly she slapped Vanessa’s bottom sharply three times in quick succession, making her soft flesh jump, leaving her handprint emblazoned across both buttocks and bringing tears to her eyes. She bent her head close to Vanessa’s ear. ‘Tonight you belong to us. You’re our slave-slut and we’ll do what we like with you. Nothing else matters but your absolute obedience and our pleasure, understand?’

Vanessa nodded, trembling both in fear and in shameful excitement.

‘Right, let’s get some paws on you and then you can start acting like the bitch you are …

Vanessa was on her knees and elbows in a corner of the kitchen, her rear facing Zara and Jude as they sat and drank coffee at the kitchen table.

They had removed her gag but she was too cowed to think about making a sound out of turn. They had put tight, fingerless rubber mittens on her hands similar to those she had seen the Cherry girls wearing. Their supper was still cooking; meanwhile Vanessa was eating a simple diced slave-meal out of an old metal dog bowl. In a similar bowl beside it was a dessert of chopped fruit and cream. It was going to be messy to eat, but she knew she had to finish every last bit.

Her bottom still burned and her eyes were still misted with tears. She was once again being sucked into that frightening paradox of disgust and arousal. She had been denied the use of her hands and her voice, and was being made to eat like an animal. It was shameful degradation. So why was she feeling so excited? Her pussy was wet and swollen and she knew in her current posture she was showing it off to her mistresses like a bitch in heat.

When she had licked her bowls clean, she turned to the two women, bowed her head and made a diffident whimper.

‘Looks like she’s finished,’ Zara said. ‘Time for a shower before we eat …’

Hands now cuffed behind her, they sat Vanessa on the toilet and made her pee and void her bowels. With an enema gun like Miss Kyle had used they flushed her out and left her rectum lined with grease. Then they stripped off and pulled her into the shower stall with them.

In a tight press of bare flesh they soaped Vanessa and each other, rubbing their slippery bodies against hers. Jude’s large pink breasts swayed and wobbled, her red nipples standing out like organ stops. They pushed Vanessa on to her knees, fingers locked into her wet hair, and ground her face into the streaming
clefts
of their vaginas. Jude had gold rings set in her labia and clitoral hood like Zara. Vanessa licked about and between them with increasing desperation as the women twisted her round to share her favours, trapping her head between their thighs and hungry sexes as they embraced and kissed each other passionately.

First Zara then Jude came in her face, rubbing her nose deep into their slippery slots. Clasping handfuls of her hair, they used it to wipe themselves clean and then let her slide discarded to the floor of the shower where the spray washed their juices from her.

Dried and robed, Jude and Zara sat on the living-room sofa eating their dinner off trays while they watched TV. They rested their feet on Vanessa.

She was their footstool now, doubled over with her face almost touching the carpet. Her elbows were drawn backwards and held tight to her sides by a rope that passed between them and around the backs of her knees. Her ankles were tied together and held pressed up against her bottom by loops of rope going over the tops of her thighs. Another rope ran from her ankles under her body between her clenched thighs to her collar ring, pulling her head down and bowing her back. Two short lengths of rope linked her collar ring to her wrist cuffs, pulling her lower arms forwards and adding tension to the bond between her elbows and knees.

They had turned her into a piece of furniture, using the bow of her smooth back to rest their heels. She was utterly helpless and degraded. So why was a dribble of clear fluid trickling from her vagina between her thighs and on to the carpet?

Jude slid her foot out of its slipper and probed the oozing slit of Vanessa’s pouting pudenda. Vanessa shivered and groaned with frustrated need.

‘I think this little hotpot’ll soon be coming to the boil,’ she observed.

The posts at the foot of Zara and Jude’s big brass-framed double bed telescoped upwards until they stood two metres high. They had handy rings on them to which slave cuff chains could be clipped.

Vanessa was splayed wide between the tall posts. Jude knelt on the bed in front of her while Zara stood on the floor behind. Both women were as naked as Vanessa. Each held short scolding paddles that they had taken from a large box stowed under the bed. This was the ‘toy box’ Zara had told Jude to prepare. The smack of rubber on flesh filled the room as they methodically beat Vanessa front and rear, creating a rosy glow on her skin from the back of her knees to the upper slopes of her breasts. They had put a rubber bit in her mouth for her to bite on so that she could moan and yelp and whimper and squeal freely, which she did. Drool ran down her cheeks and on to her breasts as Jude happily smacked them from side to side, setting them bouncing and quivering. From behind, Zara’s paddle not only drove shivers through her bottom flesh, but curled up between Vanessa’s spread thighs to slap against her pouting mound.

Under this onslaught Vanessa jerked and writhed, straining at her bonds, her eyes running with tears and bulging as the harder blows fell. But she knew there was no escape or release until her mistresses permitted. She would do anything they wanted. She was ready to please, she wanted to please and she needed to please!

When the last blow had fallen and her body was throbbing and tingling and alive to the slightest touch, they freed her arms. She fell forwards across the bed, trembling and sobbing. From the toy box
they
produced a broad belt that they buckled round her waist, chained to garter-like straps going round her upper thighs. They clipped her wrist cuffs to the straps. Another strap was buckled just above her elbows, linking them across her back and pinioning her arms to her sides.

Jude and Zara took out a bundle of thick bungee cords and strung them between the four bedposts and the rings set in the sides of Vanessa’s belt. The tension countered most of her weight, lifting her middle off the bed. Next the toy box supplied them with a pair of double-headed black dildos curiously shaped in a broken ‘V’. One arm was moulded like a huge penis, while the other was half its length and ended in a fat bulb. They pushed the shorter ends into their vaginas, leaving the fake erections bobbing rampantly before them.

Zara raised Vanessa and parted her legs so that Jude could slide underneath her, then lowered her on to Jude’s dildo. Her breasts pressed into Jude’s full glossy globes, hard nipples indenting soft flesh, as the rod of rubber filled her shamefully eager vagina. The tension of the elastic cords meant she did not bear down on Jude with her full weight.

Vanessa felt Zara pull her legs further apart and then mount her from behind. She bit on her gag-bar, whimpering as her anus was stretched wide and the length of the shaft slid into her, filling her rectum until it was painfully tight. Then she was doubly plugged and fit to burst, sobbing with desperate need.

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.