Vanessa and Kashika exchanged smiles. It was nice to be back.
They made their way to one of the blocky structures forming one side of the central alley that ran down the middle of the long axis of the level. Going down on their hands and knees they crawled through a low doorway guarded by a mesh gate. A short tunnel and a second gate led to a lobby with both slave-size gates and ordinary doors leading off it. Behind a glass-topped desk sat a large red-faced man in a security guard’s uniform. Still on their hands and knees, Vanessa and Kashika shuffled over to him and respectfully kissed the polished toes of his boots.
‘Kashika Cherry and Miss Buckingham,’ he exclaimed, ‘I heard you had a spot of trouble last night.’ His evident genuine concern was only partly concealed behind his understatement.
‘We did, Master Jarvis,’ Vanessa said. ‘But we’re all right now. The Director said we were to see her about it at ten.’
‘Well, go through and get yourself decent, then,’ he said briskly. ‘You don’t want to keep her waiting …’
They shuffled through into a room lined with metal lockers, where they stripped off their clothes and stowed them away. Vanessa kept only her key card, hooked to her collar by a light chain, her press hat and sandals. Kashika wore only her collar. By the standards of this strange underworld they were now ‘decently’ dressed.
They went down on their hands and knees and crawled back out into the lobby. Miss Kyle was waiting for them.
She was a coolly beautiful dark-eyed brunette, a little older than Vanessa, with flawless pale skin. She was dressed in her normal costume, for a slave girl trainer in B3, of thigh-length black leather boots and a dark body stocking, which moulded itself to her body like a second skin. From a belt encircling her trim waist hung a cane and a coiled whip. It was Miss Kyle who had broken Vanessa in during her first day in B3. Vanessa was sure Mister Jarvis had told her they were here.
They shuffled forward and kissed her boots while her eye flicked over them with professional concern, noting the marks on their bodies. ‘I had to see you to make sure you were all right,’ she said, her normally pouting lips pinched in concern and anger.
‘We’re fine, Miss Kyle,’ Vanessa said. ‘Just a bit sore.’
‘I don’t mean your bodies, Vanessa. I know what you both can take and I know bruises heal. I meant in your minds. I was afraid it might make you doubt your calling.’
‘No, Miss Kyle,’ Vanessa assured her.
‘I’m still a Shiller girl, Miss Kyle,’ Kashika said simply.
Miss Kyle looked relieved. ‘That’s what I wanted to know.’
‘Thank you for raising the alarm, Miss Kyle,’ Vanessa said.
Miss Kyle smiled grimly. ‘Luckily I checked the mirror early, knowing the pair of you might have jumped into bed before eating. For a moment I wasn’t sure if it was something you had arranged privately. Then I saw you looking at the mirror and read it all in your face and alerted security. I kept watching in case they threatened you with serious harm, in which case I would have used the speakers to try to frighten them off.’
‘They might have taken us with them before the security team got there, Miss Kyle,’ Kashika said. ‘Vanessa at least, so Rochester could have his revenge.’
‘That’s why I held back. Anyway, you’re safe now. And I want to say how proud I am of the wonderful display of suffering you put on.’
‘Thank you, Miss Kyle,’ Vanessa said. ‘But I was just playing for time by trying to keep them screwing us as long as possible.’
‘That was the best thing you could do. You used your greatest weapons: your bodies and your sluttish natures, just as I would have hoped. Well done.’
Kissing both Miss Kyle and Mister Jarvis’s boots again, they left the way they’d come. Vanessa felt a warm glow inside her. It was good to know how much they were appreciated.
Back in the lift Vanessa pressed the button for the top floor. Kashika looked both impressed at Vanessa’s confidence in sending the lift up to the summit of the tower, yet also apprehensive.
‘I’ve never been to the Director’s personal office before,’ she admitted as they ascended. ‘Is it like the other girls say?’
‘It’s special,’ Vanessa agreed. ‘Nothing far out, just very … individual. After a while you realise it suits the Director exactly and you couldn’t imagine her working anywhere else. Just do everything I do. She won’t bite.’
‘But she’s so masterful. I feel I should be down on my knees all the time.’
‘Me too. And you will be. But she cares for us, remember that.’
Kashika hesitated, then asked: ‘Have you ever served her?’
It was something that had been troubling Vanessa ever since the Director had honoured her by making her a white-collar girl a few months earlier. ‘No, I haven’t. I haven’t actually seen her that often since my probation month. Most of the time I work in the GN office and take orders from my editor. I mean I really want to please the Director so much …’ she added hastily: ‘… it’s nothing like how I feel about you, lover; you know that. That’s private and personal. But I also want to be able to please her.’
‘I understand,’ Kashika said with a smile. ‘She’s just so powerful and dominating you couldn’t not want to. It’s natural. I mean in a way we all belong to her. We’re Shiller company girls. She’s our mistress. Our owner.’
Vanessa felt a thrill at Kashika’s matter-of-fact words, feeling a flutter in her stomach. It was true that the Director was in effect their absolute master. She could have any of the girls down in B3 she wanted and they would die to please her. But she confined her personal pleasures to her own elite retinue of white-collar girls. True, Vanessa wore a white collar but there was one other difference between them and her. Her fingers slid down to the gold ring piercing the lip of her left inner labia. The other white girls had three rings, one in their other lip and one through the hood of their clitorises.
All girls who graduated from basic slave training down in B3 received one ring. Vanessa had got hers for defying Rochester and not revealing Shiller’s secrets to him. Perhaps she had to earn two more rings before the Director decided she was fit to serve. They were not a symbol of beauty or passion but a reward for character and ability. Well, she must simply be patient. The Director respected honesty and diligent work. If she stuck to those principles she might be judged worthy some day.
In the meantime she was young and healthy, she had an incredible job and was blessed with Kashika’s love. Who could want for more?
The lift opened onto an airy foyer looking out onto a lush roof garden. A double row of glass-topped desks ran down each side of the room bearing computer terminals. Seated before each, legs held casually parted, was a naked woman in a white collar, slave chains and ankle hobbles.
Vanessa led Kashika through the room, between the secretarial rows of parted legs and exposed pubic deltas, to a large frosted-glass double door at the far end. She knocked and then went down onto her hands and knees. Kashika quickly copied her.
The doors slid open and they shuffled through. The doors were actuated by a pair of hooded blue-collar slave girls, but not by using their hands. Vanessa noted their method of attachment to the doors had changed since she’d last visited the Director’s private office.
Both girls stood faced inward, backs pressed against the doors, their hands cuffed behind them. They stood with their legs spread to accommodate the upward curving door handles that extended between them. The handles ended in spiked balls that nestled firmly in their clefts, spreading their soft pink lips wide. Vanessa imagined it would be quite painful to shuffle sideways, dragging the weight of half a door however smoothly it slid on its runners. She was not surprised to see, however, that their sexes were wet with excitement and their nipples straining hard. Naturally. They were company girls privileged to operate the Director’s own private door.
The office also looked out onto the rooftop garden. Between the large windows was a living sculpture.<
br />
Strung between two posts mounted at each end of a plinth was a spider-web of stainless steel ribbons. Caught in the web and stretched taut and wide was a girl in a pink collar. Steel bands were strapped over her eyes and mouth, they encircled and squeezed her breasts and teased her pouting vulva. She was there completely at the whim of anybody free to do so to be admired, touched and fondled; the contrast between her soft pliant flesh and the unyielding metal to be enjoyed.
Vanessa recalled seeing a girl similarly displayed on her first frightening, wonderful day in the Shiller building, where shock had piled on shock. At the time she had been appalled anybody could do such a thing and denied utterly that a girl could enjoy such exposure. Now she understood how the girl felt and was not surprised to see her vagina was engorged and had dripped onto the plinth. Any girl chosen to decorate the Director’s office would be immensely proud. Vanessa would have swapped places with her in a second.
FG Shiller, the founder and director of Shiller plc, sat behind a large leather-topped desk, which was bare except for a single slim screen and keyboard. She was a slender, still attractive woman in perhaps her mid-fifties, with a strong straight nose, piercing bright blue eyes and short well-groomed hair crowning a narrow, intelligent, unlined face. She was the darkest thing in the room in her dark-blue business suit and seemingly the least unusual, yet she filled it with her quiet dominating presence.
‘You wished to see us, Director,’ Vanessa said.
The Director smiled. ‘Yes. Come up here, both of you.’
A pair of backless stools stood in front of the desk. Vanessa shuffled forward and used one stool to climb up onto the desk and sat back on her heels in a display posture with arms folded behind her back and thighs spread. Kashika gracefully copied her, positioning herself on the other side of the computer.
The Director looked them over closely. ‘No ill effects from your unfortunate experience?’
‘A slight headache, Director,’ Vanessa said. ‘Nothing that won’t pass.’
‘Just a sore bottom, Director,’ Kashika said meekly, her eyes wide with wonder and delight at being face to face with the Director.
‘Good. You’ve both been very brave.’
Vanessa bit her lip but she had to say it. ‘Director, I must confess … if it came to it, deciding between Kashika and the company, I … would have got what Rochester wanted. Kashika would have been braver, but I would have spied for him … been a traitor to you.’ She hung her head. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Shiller shook her head. ‘Don’t be, Vanessa. You are only human and Kashika is your friend and lover. It’s not a choice any of us should have to make. What you felt was not wrong and no sign of disloyalty. Don’t concern yourself about it any more.’
Vanessa felt relieved. ‘Thank you, Director.’
‘Now, I want to sample your responses so I can decide how this incident should best be handled. If Rochester was having you watched it’s possible he’s had other girls or members of staff followed, in which case he might try the same method to induce them to spy for him. Of course few would be as well placed as you, Vanessa, to obtain incriminating evidence. But if he has miniature cameras capable of being carried within body cavities then we must be on our guard. I may have to order scans and closer body searches for girls who have been out of the building unescorted, but I don’t want to lower the girls’ morale or make them feel they have lost any of my trust. How would the two of you feel about submitting to such searches?’
‘The girls will always do what you say, Director,’ Kashika said fervently. ‘If it’s necessary they’ll understand.’
‘Thank you for your confidence, Kashika.’ Shiller said gravely. ‘And what about you, Vanessa?’
Vanessa said slowly: ‘I think you should make any new searches a ritual. Make it a new slave routine, something the girls are taught. To keep the staff on their toes maybe you can have dummy cameras hidden and prizes for finding them.’
‘Now that’s an interesting idea,’ the Director mused. ‘I said before that you had a certain independence of mind.’
Vanessa felt a wonderful sense of warmth at her praise. ‘Thank you, Director.’
‘Now, what do you think the consequences will be if Rochester’s attempt on you is made public amongst the girls? I do not wish to alarm them but they should also be forewarned, especially if new security measures are introduced.’
‘It wouldn’t surprise them, Director,’ Kashika said. ‘I think every girl here has heard something about how Rochester tried to use Vanessa before. I’ve told the story to all my chain sisters.’
‘If it was up to me I’d tell it all, Director,’ Vanessa said. ‘Gather them all together like you do for a chain graduation and explain what happened. That would make any new security measures easier to understand. It’s all about being honest with the girls. There’s no pretence about being a company slave. It’s admitting what we are. Don’t start holding anything back from them now …’ She felt a lump forming in her throat. ‘I know that’s what won me over, that’s what makes this place so different from anything Rochester can have!’
Kashika was nodding, moist-eyed.
Shiller smiled. ‘You have confirmed my own thoughts. I won’t defeat Rochester by lying to my own girls. If I spoke to the girls this afternoon, say, would that give you time to write up what happened as a special single-sheet edition of Girlflesh News so it can be handed out afterwards? We can also send copies to our other facilities nationwide for the chains there to read. They can go out with the details of the new security measures. Then every girl will understand what’s required of her.’
‘Of course, Director,’ Vanessa said. ‘I can get started as soon as I get back to my office and talk to Mistress Zara.’
‘Then off you go. And you can tell your chain sisters there’ll be an announcement this afternoon, Kashika, but say no more until then.’
‘Yes, Director,’ they said, and then scrambled down from the desk and shuffled to the door.
Vanessa got off at the fifth floor while Kashika continued on down to B3. Hurrying through to the offices of the Shiller house magazines she remembered the first time she had passed along these corridors just a few months before, though it seemed to belong to another life. She had been wearing a plain steel collar and slave chains and had been sick with fear and almost paralysed at being naked in front of ordinary office workers. But then she had been trying to overthrow the company so perhaps the humiliation was deserved.
As a reporter working for the Daily Globe on the special assignment Rochester had given her to uncover Shiller secrets, she had managed to gain entry to level B3 and found to her horror slave trading taking place on a commercial scale. But before she could relay her discovery she had been apprehended. Shiller had talked her into a bargain, enforced by intimate electronic monitoring, that she would not reveal their secrets for a month. During that time she would work, supposedly still undercover, on the house magazines and be free to interview the slave girls and decide at first-hand if they really were natural submissives serving the company voluntarily. And she had discovered the truth, not only about the company but herself. And she had met Kashika and become a loyal company slave. And now rushing to her office naked except for a hat, collar and sandals was simply part of everyday life. But it was a life under threat once more from the same force that had unwittingly introduced her to it.
Zara Fulton, her editor, was a tall, attractive, full-busted woman in her mid-forties with a mass of dark wavy hair and narrow blue-grey eyes. She swivelled round in her chair as Vanessa entered her office.
Taking off her hat Vanessa went down on her knees and shuffled over to Zara, who drew up her red skirt to expose her panty-less crotch. Vanessa bent and kissed the moist scented vertical smile between her thighs, then sat back on her heels and said formally: ‘Good Morning, Mistress Editor.’
‘Good Morning, Vanessa. I hear you’ve been having quite an adventure.’ Her words were offhand but there w
as genuine concern beneath them.
‘Yes, Mistress Editor. And now the Director wants me to write it up …’ She explained about the special edition.
Zara looked thoughtful, then said: ‘You get started. Personal angle obviously, but don’t let it get in the way of the facts. They’ll speak for themselves, no need to sensationalise. Come to me with what you’ve got in an hour and we’ll go over it. How many girls are in the building at the moment? Say we run off a hundred and fifty copies to be sure. If the Director is going to talk to the girls we should cover that as well. Hmm … I’ll call her and suggest we have your copy ready to run but hold off printing it until we can add a transcript of her speech to it as the lead. We can still have them ready for distributing inside an hour.’
‘I think that’s a good idea, Mistress Editor.’
Zara smiled. ‘Well, that’s what they pay me for. Now get writing …’
Vanessa had her story ready inside the hour. She had to take a mental step back to recount the events as accurately as possible. Reliving the fear was not pleasant. Zara read it over with approval, though she wore a scowl by the end.
‘You and Kashika had a nasty time.’
‘It wasn’t so much what they did as the fear of what might come next,’ Vanessa admitted. ‘But when I found out it was Rochester behind it, that made me angry and I think that helped.’
‘Yes, I think anger’s the best response to that man. But he’s fooling himself if he thinks he can beat the Director. When he falls I’m going to be there cheering!’
Zara had hated Rochester since before Vanessa had become mixed up in the secret rivalry between the two companies. She seemed to hold even more enmity towards him than the Director. Vanessa wondered if it was something personal. Perhaps she’d find out one day.
The Girlflesh Castle Page 8
