The Girlflesh Institute (Nexus) (9 page)

For a split second she resisted the urge to yell: ‘They’re slave traffickers!’

‘You’ve got nerve!’ he exclaimed with a chuckle. ‘Sir Harvey was right about you. Bloody well done, Vanessa!’

The phalluses pulsed inside her as a reward for acting like an obedient puppet as she enjoyed the warmth of Enwright’s praise. For a moment the sensual pleasure seemed to merge with Enwright’s
words
and she felt wonderful. Then a reaction set in and her high became a low.

What had she been thinking? It was all false. She was lying to Enwright. How could she let herself be used like this? She realised her emotional state was going up and down like a roller coaster. She’d been shocked and caned and screwed too many times today. Now it was all catching up with her.

Shiller must have seen what was happening through the bio-feedback, for she found herself saying: ‘God I’m tired! Do you mind if I close my eyes for a bit? It’s been a long day.’

‘Sure, Vanessa,’ Enwright said. ‘You rest. You deserve it.

Vanessa dozed uneasily, only rousing herself when Enwright pulled up the car outside the slightly shabby nineteen-thirties block of flats in Richmond where she resided on the third floor.

Vanessa wearily climbed the stairs and latch-keyed herself into her flat. Enwright followed at her heels, looking more eager than Vanessa now felt. When she had left that morning she had been so full of nervous excitement, but all she’d done was get caught and turned into a helpless, deceitful puppet. How did she know Shiller would keep her word? Would she ever escape her clutches? No, she must not give into that sort of thinking. She was back in her own home. Surely she could find some way of escaping her controllers.

‘The e-mail should be waiting in your inbox,’ Shiller said in her ear. ‘Let Enwright see it for himself.’

Vanessa crossed to the desk tucked into one corner of the small sitting room and opened up her computer. In a few moments the letter from Shillers
appeared
on the screen. Enwright leaned over her shoulder to read it.

‘Hmm … New position in expanded department … confirming salary and benefits … blah, blah … (Hey, that’s not bad!) … short notice … can you go for an induction meeting tomorrow? They don’t waste any time, do they? Well, the sooner the better. Looks like you’re in.’

‘I don’t think you or anybody from the paper should call here while I’m working for Shillers.’ Vanessa said, at Shiller’s instruction. ‘In fact, we’d better not meet at all. And I won’t call you unless I’ve something worthwhile to report …’

Vanessa trailed off.

Hanging on the sitting-room wall was a mirror set in a natural wood frame. It looked perfectly ordinary, except that it hadn’t been there when she had left the flat a little over twelve hours earlier.

‘That’s sensible,’ Enwright agreed. ‘Can’t be too careful now you’re undercover. Well, I’ll get back and report to Sir Harvey. And, once again, well done.’

‘Thanks, Mr Enwright,’ Vanessa recited somewhat distractedly. ‘I’ll do my best to find out the truth about Shillers.’

She showed Enwright out and with relief closed the front door behind him. There was, she now noticed, another new mirror hanging in the hall.

‘Your neighbours believe you have just had a new security system installed,’ Shiller said, anticipating her question. ‘That’s not too far from the truth, since our home security division did the work.’

Of course. Shiller had taken her keys out of the cell that morning and had asked if she lived alone. Knowing her name they could track down her address. There had been plenty of time to make copies of her keys, fix up her flat and return the originals to her.

‘I suppose there are cameras hidden behind the mirrors?’

‘Naturally. We must be sure you don’t betray us in any way. I said you would only have to wear the close monitoring devices in public, but you could hardly expect us to allow you unrestricted freedom at home. In case you wonder, we have also installed taps on your phone and computer. You must also show us any letter you write before posting it.’

There was another mirror in her kitchen. With a sinking feeling, Vanessa made for her bedroom. Sure enough there was a new mirror on the wall facing her bed. The standing three-panel mirror on her dressing table had also been replaced; while on the table itself was an adaptor and battery recharger unit she’d never seen before. It was currently plugged into a black rubber collar.

‘This power unit will also recharge the control and monitor devices you are currently wearing,’ Shiller explained. ‘The house collar is for use in your flat. It incorporates a self-contained, two-way audio link and will also monitor your speech and administer punishment if required. You have several high-necked tops or scarves which will conceal it adequately from any casual callers.’

‘You’ve been through my wardrobe!’ Vanessa exclaimed. It was quite trivial compared to the indignities she had already suffered, but at that moment it seemed a shocking invasion of her privacy.

‘We had to check your flat and possessions to ensure our security measures will be adequate,’ Shiller explained. ‘This way your freedom of movement will only be restricted by the minimum necessary for our needs.’

‘I’m supposed to be grateful for that?’

‘We are not seeking your gratitude, Vanessa, only your understanding, though you may like to consider
how
much more onerous your situation could be. The house collar, for instance, is also fully waterproof, so you may shower or bathe with it in place.’

‘I suppose I have to sleep in it as well?’

‘No, though you will of course be secured to your bed while you sleep.’

‘What do you mean: “secured”?’

‘See for yourself.’

At first glance her pine-framed double bed looked to Vanessa as she had left it that morning. But when she felt around the back behind the headboard she found holster-like pockets containing cuffs connected to plastic-sheathed wire cords. More holsters had been fitted under the sides and foot of the bed, while some larger device concealed in a long casing was bolted to the bottom of the frame between its front legs. A power cable ran from under the bed to where it plugged into the nearest wall socket.

Vanessa sighed. She should have known escaping Shiller’s clutches would not be that easy.

‘I wish to test your house collar,’ Shiller said. ‘Remove your overalls …’

Vanessa stripped down to her new underwear. The locks of the earphone unit and choker band opened remotely, and she unhooked the devices with relief.

Shiller’s voice now issued from the house collar. ‘Put this on before removing your bra and thong.’

Vanessa unplugged the collar from the charger and gingerly closed it about her neck, where it locked with a click. It was sheathed in soft vinyl and was not exactly uncomfortable, but she could feel metal contacts pressing against her skin.

Electric needles stabbed briefly into her neck and she gasped in pain.

‘The collar is active,’ Shiller confirmed. ‘Do I need to demonstrate its full power, Puppet?’

‘No, Monitor,’ Vanessa said quickly.

‘Now you may remove your bra and thong,’ Shiller said.

Gritting her teeth, only too aware of the hidden cameras watching her from behind the spy mirrors, Vanessa unhooked her bra and then awkwardly stripped off the thong. The front phallus slid out of its slippery sheath easily enough, but she had to tug to get the head of the rear plug free of the tight ring of her anus. By the time it popped out she was blushing furiously.

At no point in the change-over had she been free of one or the other control systems, but at least she was no longer carrying a spy camera around with her. Suddenly feeling exposed and oddly vulnerable, she grabbed her dressing gown from the back of the door and pulled it tightly about her.

Shiller’s operatives had thoughtfully left a new pack of antiseptic wipes on her dressing table. Following Shiller’s directions, she used them to clean the phalluses, still warm from their intimate contact with her, and then plugged the devices, linked by the spine cable, into the charger.

‘If that’s all, Monitor,’ she said wearily when she was done, ‘I really need to go to the loo.’

‘You may go wherever you wish,’ Shiller replied simply.

There was a new heated, self-demisting mirror hanging over the bathroom basin.

‘No privacy!’ Vanessa shouted. ‘Not even when I’m on the toilet, or taking a shower?’

‘No. Otherwise you might, for instance, try throwing a message out of the window. Hard though it may seem to believe, you will get used to it. For now, accept that you have no choice.’

Vanessa sagged, feeling utterly beaten and close to
tears
. They still had her in their control as completely as though she was back in the cell.

She hunched down over the toilet with head bowed, eyes closed and thighs squeezed together. It took an effort to relax enough to let her water pass. It was less humiliating than her enforced disgrace in the cell, but not by much.

Vanessa microwaved a ready meal for herself, uncorked a bottle of wine and ate and drank in front of the television with the sound turned up a notch higher than usual, trying to drown her thoughts. She said and did nothing to invite any response from Shiller, kept her eyes turned away from the new mirror and tried to pretend her collar did not exist. She watched for four hours straight, and afterwards could not remember a single programme she had seen.

Following a brief shower and another embarrassing session on the toilet, she was mentally drained and desperately in need of sleep. Standing before her deceptively normal-looking bed, she asked aloud: ‘What do I do now?’

Miss Kyle’s voice came from her collar. ‘I have taken over monitor duty from the Director,’ she announced. ‘I noticed you’ve been lax in using the proper responses. While this was new to you the Director was being lenient, but that period is over. Anybody controlling you is to be addressed as “Monitor”, while you are “Puppet”, remember.’

A warning flicker of pain coursed through her collar.

‘Yes, Monitor,’ Vanessa said quickly.

‘What are you?’

‘I’m your Puppet, Monitor.’

‘From now on any slips will be punished, you understand?’

‘Yes, Monitor.’

‘Now take off your gown and turn back your bed covers …’

Vanessa obeyed.

‘Pull the lower corner cuffs out of their holsters …’

The cables drew out easily after the cuffs. They were lined with rubber and banded in metal, fitted with integral locking catches.

‘There’s an anal lock-plug in a holster next to the left-hand cuff. Draw that out and lay it on the bed …’

Vanessa gulped as she drew out what looked a slim metal dildo ringed about its middle by a broad band of rubber, mounted on the end of a thick electric cable.

‘If you open your bedside drawer you will find a pair of handcuffs, lubricating jelly and a new vibrator. The model you were using was far too small …’

Cringing in shame, Vanessa took out the items as instructed. The vibrator was a black rubber monster.

‘Lubricate the vibrator and the anal plug …’

Vanessa did so. Was she going to have both these things inside her?

‘Now sit on the bed with your legs spread and cuff your ankles …’

Trembling, Vanessa obeyed. The cuffs locked shut automatically.

‘Cuff your hands in front of you,’ Miss Kyle said.

Biting her lip, Vanessa clicked the handcuffs about her wrists.

‘Take hold of the anal plug, bend your knees, lie back and push it well up your rear …’

Vanessa rebelled. ‘No, please, Monitor! I can’t escape. I can’t give you away. You don’t need to do this – uhhh!’

Her collar had stung like a ring of angry wasps.

‘Stuff it up your bum-hole this instant or you’ll get far worse!’ Miss Kyle warned her.

Sobbing, Vanessa obeyed, forcing the metal slug up inside her rear. When it was fully inserted she felt the rubber band around its middle expand like a small balloon, filling the tunnel of her rectum and forming a plug too large to be expelled. The pressure was transmitted through to her vagina. Perversely she felt herself responding to this strange new stimulation.

‘We can’t allow you to become over-confident, Puppet,’ Miss Kyle said. You’ll be working in a subservient position in the company, so you’ll have to show proper respect. Think of this as a lesson in humility …’

Vanessa yelped in pain as the bloated anal plug delivered a jolt of electricity to her rear passage. A warm slickness began to seep between her labia …

‘Remove your collar, Puppet,’ Miss Kyle said. ‘Hang it over the bedpost where you can reach it in the morning …’

Trembling, Vanessa did so. Under the bed a motor whirred softly and her legs were drawn out wide, allowing anybody watching through the wall-mirror camera an unobstructed view of the cleft of her vulva and her plugged anus.

‘Pick up the vibrator and lie back,’ Miss Kyle said.

Vanessa started in surprise even as she obeyed. Now Miss Kyle’s voice seemed to be coming from the bed itself. The whole thing had been wired up.

‘Now you’re going to give yourself a proper screwing for our entertainment. There are a lot of us watching right now. We can see every hair on your pubes. Does that excite you?’

Vanessa groaned and shook her head.

‘Really? Then why are your nipples standing up and pussy lips wet? Now these are the rules: the faster
and
harder you screw yourself, the less often I’ll have to give you a shock up your arse. They’ll stop altogether when you come, but don’t think you can fool me by faking it!’

The anal plug gave her a warning jolt. Desperately, Vanessa turned on the vibrator. Its head began to buzz and shaft pump and oscillate. Sobbing, she clutched it between her cuffed hands, screwed up her eyes and thrust it between her legs as though plunging a knife into her pubic gash.

Her vulva bulged as the thing slid up into her vaginal passage, pressing back against the bulge of her anal plug. Then she was completely filled, front and rear. Gasping and sobbing, she drove it in and out of her wet hole. Surely she could not come like this, knowing strangers were watching her every move.