Contents
Cover
About the Book
Also by Adriana Arden
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Copyright
About the Book
Vanessa Buckingham has discovered strange contentment in the bizarre and secretive underworld of commercially organised slavery. Having accepted her own submissive nature, Vanessa is now happily working for the powerful Shiller Company as a slave reporter for Girlflesh News. She has also found a lover in the form of the beautiful slavegirl Kashika.
But there are forces at work that wish to destroy Shiller’s carefully run “ethical” slave business. Shiller’s rival and arch enemy – the media mogul, Sir Harvey Rochester – has not given up trying to take over its operation. Having failed to use Vanessa as his unwitting pawn to expose Shiller, Sir Harvey now turns to more extreme methods.
Also by Adriana Arden
THE GIRLFLESH INSTITUTE
One
VANESSA LAY NAKED on the hospital bed.
Broad cuffs of thick clear plastic encircled her wrists and ankles. These were connected to rings bolted to the gleaming tubular metal side-rails of the bed by a few links of shining chain, pulling her arms out from her sides and spreading her legs wide. A length of crepe bandage had been wrapped mummy-like about her head and face, leaving only her nostrils and bright clear hazel eyes exposed. Over her mouth was a wide strip of flesh-tinted sticking plaster, through which the contours of her lips could be seen. From under the bandage dark fluffy hair tumbled over her bare shoulders. More bandages had been bound about her hands forming tight pale fingerless mittens.
Encircling her neck was a white enamelled collar, from the front of which hung a tethering ring. Discreetly stamped into the side of this metal band were the characters: VANESSA 19 WHITE.
Vanessa’s milk-pale breasts, with their contrasting sharply defined swollen nipple-crowns, trembled slightly, while her stomach rose and fell in time with her excited breathing. Between her spread legs was a thick matt of pubic hair trimmed back at its heart to expose a deep in-rolling cleft that glistened wetly. A small gold ring gleamed where it pierced her left labia minora.
Standing by her bed were a man and woman in the traditional costumes of doctor and nurse: he in a white coat with a stethoscope hung round his neck and she in a blue uniform, white cap and apron. He was middle-aged, bespectacled, pink-faced and balding, while she was petite, young and pretty, with a broad clip-belt about her waist that emphasised the swell of her hips. About her neck she wore a yellow metal collar with the characters: JULIE 5 CANARY stamped upon it.
The doctor was consulting the clipboard that held Vanessa’s medical charts. After a moment he reached down and pinched her right nipple, stretching and twisting it sharply. Vanessa whimpered behind her bandage gag and squirmed at his touch, tugging at her restraining cuffs, the muscles of her well-toned body standing out. However, neither the doctor nor the nurse took any notice of her muted protests.
‘Hmm … pronounced swelling of the areola and hardness of the nipples,’ the doctor said. His hand slid down across Vanessa’s stomach to the mound of her sex and prised her labia apart. ‘Also discharge from the vulva and marked erection of the clitoris …’ He pinched the hard nub of flesh in question firmly between thumb and forefinger, making Vanessa whimper afresh and jerk violently, rattling her chains. Her eyes bulged and began to fill with tears.
‘Take her temperature again, Nurse,’ the doctor commanded.
‘At once, Doctor,’ the nurse said meekly.
She touched a control pad by the head of the bed. With a subdued hum the lower halves of the bedside rails began to lift upwards, hingeing about the middle of the bed and pulling Vanessa’s legs with them. In a few seconds her legs were raised high over her upper body and she had been folded into a right angle. The swell of her sex pouch and the pucker of her anus were now displayed between the taut curves of her buttocks.
From an instrument tray on the bedside locker the nurse took up a long thick thermometer and slid it up the greased sheath of Vanessa’s rectum. Vanessa shivered as the hard rod penetrated her, squeezing it tightly. The remainder of the thermometer jutted out and upward from her bottom cleft, twitching slightly.
The doctor’s eyes were riveted upon it and he licked his lips. By now his forehead glistened with sweat while a prominent bulge grew midway down the front of his coat.
After half a minute the nurse pulled the thermometer from Vanessa’s bottom and showed it to the doctor.
‘Ah … yes … well above normal,’ he said knowingly.
‘What’s your diagnosis, Doctor?’ the nurse asked breathlessly.
‘It’s a clear case of sexual overheating leading to potentially dangerous slackness of the vagina,’ he declared. ‘She needs cooling down and tightening up. Fetch a freezing pack at once!’
Vanessa’s stomach fluttered and she moaned and shook her head. Again they ignored her.
‘Yes, Doctor,’ the nurse said obediently.
She slipped though a gap in the floor-to-ceiling curtains that surrounded Vanessa’s bed and hurried off. Meanwhile the doctor took up a pair of latex gloves from the tray and pulled them on, snapping them into place and smoothing the wrinkles carefully out of the fingers. Then he stood over Vanessa’s doubled-over body and smiled down at her through the wide gap between her raised legs.
‘Don’t worry, my dear, I’ll fix you up.’ He stroked her sex and dipped his rubber-sheathed fingers into her wet cleft. ‘Sluts like you need this sort of treatment regularly or else you leak everywhere. Look at the stain your pussy’s leaving on the sheets.’ She squirmed and tried to pull her knees together. He gave the tight bulge of her bottom a warning slap. ‘Now you know there’s no point in struggling. Of course it’s going to hurt a bit but it’s all for your own good. You have to be cruel to be kind …’
The nurse returned with a folded rubber sheet and a fresh instrument tray that she set down on the locker. She spread the rubber sheet out on the bed and slid it under Vanessa’s raised haunches. She pulled the cover off the tray to reveal a frosted and steaming bowl of ice cubes, a large stainless steel clamp with curving jaws and a clear plastic ball with a ring handle.
‘The equipment is ready, Doctor,’ she reported.
The doctor licked his lips, took up a lozenge of ice, prised open the mouth of Vanessa’s vagina and thrust it up her passage as far as he could reach. Vanessa gasped at the sudden icy chill that blossomed deep inside her. The doctor took up another cube and pushed it into her trembling sheath after the first. Vanessa moaned and squirmed and shook her head.
‘Hold her still!’ the doctor commanded.
The nurse reached over and pinned down Vanessa’s hips.
‘This has to be done,’ the doctor said as with trembling fingers he thrust another slug of ice into her. ‘We’ve got to get you tightened up!’
He was sweating now and his eyes were misty and round with lust. Ignoring Vanessa’s struggles he thrust another ten cubes up inside her before he was satisfied. Holding the last one in place with his thumb where it jutted out from her lovemouth he snapped the clamp about her inner labia, pinching the flesh petals together and closing her passage over its chilly contents.
The nurse released her hold on Vanessa’s hips. Vanessa wailed from behind her strapping gag and wriggled her rump desperately over the rubber sheet, feeling th
e numbing cold growing between her legs and spreading through her belly. Melted water was dripping from her ice-packed vagina but she could not shake off the clamp.
‘Her rectum as well I think,’ the doctor said with an undisguised grin of delight.
Vanessa screwed up her eyes as he forced a further half dozen ice cubes through the tight greased pucker of her anal sphincter into the warm tunnel of her rectum. When he was done he pushed the plug-ball into her bumhole, sealing it tight so only its ring handle showed. Then he stood back, admiring the results of his efforts.
By now Vanessa was gurgling and shivering, her fingers clenching and clawing, straining her legs against the cuffs that held her ankles over her head, lifting her bottom off the mat as she wriggled about. Melted water was trickling freely from both her orifices but she could not expel the ice cubes packed inside her, held in place by plug and clamp. She felt her clitoris shrivelling even as her nipples swelled to India-rubber hardness.
There was a squeal from the nurse. The doctor had pulled her roughly back against his chest, pushed one hand under the bib of her apron through the closure of her uniform blouse and had his hand clamped about her left breast, which he was cupping and squeezing. She gave a little shudder. ‘Oh … doctor! Not here …’ she protested feebly.
‘Be quiet and observe the patient!’ he commanded.
With his free hand he tore her apron ties free and ripped open the poppers of her uniform front. She was bra-less and her naked glossy rounded breasts capped by pert pink nipples spilled out. Clasping them with both hands he pinched and kneaded her globes while rubbing his crotch fiercely against the taut fabric covering her bottom. As he mauled her the nurse sighed and rolled her eyes up, catching her bottom lip between her white teeth, while before them Vanessa whimpered and writhed about as her passages inexorably closed up about their plugs of ice. She squirmed and twisted, setting her breasts jiggling and heaving, tugging at her cuffs. But the bands of plastic were too thick and tough and would not yield.
There was no escaping her torment. She would suffer for the pleasure of this perverted doctor. But then that was what she was here for …
By now a red flush was spreading on the doctor’s face and his eyes were shining lustfully as his fondling of the nurse grew more agitated. Abruptly he pushed her away. ‘She’s ready … open her up!’
With her breasts still hanging out of her uniform front the nurse scrambled to obey. She unsnapped the clamp from Vanessa’s by now numbed and purple-mottled labia and yanked out the plug from her tight-pinched anus. With a groan Vanessa tried to squeeze her knees together. Twin streams of water mingled with half-melted ice cubes bubbled and gushed from her frozen passages onto the rubber sheet.
Meanwhile the doctor was tearing open his white coat and unzipping his flies. ‘Must check the treatment has been successful,’ he grunted as his thick hard cock sprang free.
The nurse gathered up the sodden rubber sheet and pulled it aside as, with desperate clumsy haste, the doctor clambered onto the bed and almost threw himself between Vanessa’s spread and elevated legs. With frantic stabs his cock found the cold, wet and tight-clenched mouth of her vagina and forced its way in. Vanessa gave a gag-muffled shriek as her shrunken passage was violently opened up by his thrusting cock. It was almost like losing her maidenhead again. The sudden heat and friction of his hot cock in her chilled insides was shocking even as it brought the life back to her. It was painful … but it was the kind of pain she craved.
He rubbed his pink face over her pliant breasts, nipping at her hard nipples even as his hips rose and fell between her legs and he pumped away madly inside her, heedless of doing any damage to her tender passage, making the bed shake. Blood flowed back into her clit in a frightening pulsing tingling rush, bringing with it acute sensation and awareness. It swelled and budded and filled out, as though straining to touch the shaft wet with her juices sliding past it. That the doctor was completely unattractive to her had nothing to do with the intensity of her response to having his cock inside her. Such things she had found were quite beyond her control. He had called her a slut and, though that was a cruel word, in her heart she knew it was true.
Then he was growling and grunting and thudding into her and hot sperm was pulsing inside her and she was clenching at him with her unnaturally tightened vaginal sheath and the liquid knot in her loins burst and suddenly there was no more pain, only the exultant release of a shattering orgasm. Freed from all concern her mind spun ecstatically …
The previous morning Vanessa had steered her red VW between the high wrought-iron security gates of the Alves Clinic that nestled in the folds of the Surrey downs.
Beyond was a driveway winding between mature trees and thick shrubberies to the front of the main clinic building. This was a nineteen-thirties modern construction of three storeys, with a flat roof, white rendered walls and tall windows. The ends of its twin wings were bowed where the roof cantilevered out over open balconies. One truly modern alteration, Vanessa noticed, was that the windows were all of mirrored glass. No doubt it could be justified on the grounds of energy efficiency, but it also effectively concealed whatever lay within.
Vanessa parked in a bay at the end of a line of cars the least of which was five times the value of hers. The clinic evidently had wealthy patrons, but then she knew it offered a rather exclusive service.
She climbed out of her car and smoothed down her white cotton two-piece jacket and short skirt. The shell top under the jacket was also white, as were her wedge-heeled open-toed sandals. Only the scarf about her neck was black. This complemented the black silk band of the white fedora she took up off the passenger seat and put on at a jaunty angle. Tucked into the side of the hatband was a card bearing the neatly printed word: PRESS.
Gathering up a digital notepad recorder and camera she locked her car and followed the signs to the main entrance of the clinic. On the plaque beside the doorway, in smaller letters below the clinic name, it said: A SHILLER COMPANY. Seeing the name gave her a happy shiver, reminding her that she was a part of something secret and wonderful.
Within was a cool tastefully fitted lobby. A pair of solid-looking doors opened off from it, one marked PRIVATE and the other CLINIC, both fitted with pad and key card security locks. To one side a middle-aged man was seated amongst the carefully tended greenery of a waiting area, flicking through a brochure. Opposite was an efficient-looking and immaculately dressed red-haired woman seated behind a glass-topped desk. Unsure of the status of the waiting man and aware that certain illusions had to be maintained, Vanessa crossed over to the desk and said formally:
‘Good morning, I’m Vanessa Buckingham from Datumline. I have an appointment with your manager, Miss Mayken …’ Then she bent forward, briefly pulled her scarf aside to reveal the slim metal collar locked about her neck and added quietly: ‘Vanessa Nineteen White.’
She had just announced herself to be numbered and collared corporate property. It should have been disgusting and shameful but instead she felt only pride.
The receptionist returned her greeting formally. ‘Good morning, Miss Buckingham. Yes, we’re expecting you.’ Then she smiled and added softly: ‘You’re GN’s new reporter, aren’t you? I’ve read your articles. They’re very good.’
Vanessa found herself blushing. She had become a most unlikely celebrity in a very private world. ‘Thank you, I’m glad you liked them.’
In a businesslike tone once more the receptionist said: ‘I’ll let Miss Mayken know you’re here.’ She picked up a phone, spoke into it briefly and then said: ‘Miss Mayken will be with you shortly. Do take a seat.’
‘Thank you.’ Vanessa sat down opposite the desk a little aside from the waiting man.
The CLINIC door opened and a man in a white coat came out. He greeted the waiting man and escorted him though the same doorway, using a key card to re-enter.
With just the two of them in the lobby the receptionist took the opportunity openly to look Vanessa up and down in
a calculating manner. Normally such an obvious show of interest might have been thought impolite, but the rules of etiquette were different here. The receptionist was not wearing a collar and Vanessa was. She was free to look at Vanessa as long and hard as she liked. Vanessa felt the familiar stirring in her loins and seemingly unconsciously parted her legs and brushed down her skirt. The air caressed her panty-less pubes and she saw the receptionist grinning. Not so long ago she would never even have dreamed of displaying herself so blatantly to a stranger, even a pretty one like the redheaded receptionist. Now it gave her a delicious thrill.
The door marked PRIVATE opened and a woman emerged. She was a trim blonde perhaps in her early forties, dressed casually in a loose top and ankle-length skirt. A key card hung on a cord about her neck.
She offered her hand to Vanessa. ‘Miss Buckingham, a pleasure, I’m Gillian Mayken … do come this way …’
Using her key card she led Vanessa back through the door into a small vestibule closed at its far end by another solid-looking door marked STAFF ONLY. Miss Mayken checked that the first door had swung closed and latched shut before she opened the inner one onto a corridor that crossed the bottom of a flight of stairs. Vanessa approved her caution. It would not do to let an outsider glimpse what lay beyond.
The sign on the inside of the door gave some hint of this. It read: NO LEASHED SLAVES BEYOND THIS POINT! And: ARE YOU DRESSED?
Beside the doorway was a row of hooks from which hung several leather and chain leashes.
‘Remove your scarf,’ Miss Mayken said briskly.
Vanessa obeyed and Miss Mayken clipped a red leather leash to her collar ring. Vanessa’s heart gave a little flutter. She was leashed like a dog and in the control of a perfect stranger. But then Miss Mayken had the right. She worked for the clinic that in turn was owned by the Shiller company while Vanessa was merely a chattel, if a proud one, of the same company. This woman could do more or less what she liked with her. A warm exciting wetness began to seep between Vanessa’s pubic lips.
-->
The Girlflesh Castle Page 1
