The Girlflesh Institute (Nexus)

by Adriana Arden

  ‘Get on with it, you slut!’ she shouted. ‘This doesn’t end until I see you come …’

  The naked man grinned at Vanessa as he pressed himself up against her and shoved his hard cock into her gaping vagina. She gasped as the slug of tumescent flesh filled her passage, but the ball-gag in her mouth stifled the sound.

  She hung flat against the painted breezeblock cell wall. Her wrists were clamped into a thick, padded cuff-bar that hung on a large wall hook above her head. Her legs were outstretched horizontally on either side of her and held almost flat to the wall by cuffs and short chains clipped to large ring-bolts. The big tendons of her inner thighs stood out like cables as they framed her exposed and gaping pudenda. Directly under her suspended and open groin was a stand and an adjustable vertical rod on which was mounted a large black rubber dildo. Its head and half its shaft were sunk into the wide-stretched mouth of her pink-rimmed anus. Discharge from her vagina ran down the sides of the dildo.

  As the man entered her she felt his cock squeezing the thin walls of flesh and muscle that separated her vagina from her tightly stuffed rectum. Slowly he began to pump away inside her, not hurrying but savouring every moment of his total possession of her body …

  The blood pounded in Vanessa’s ears as she twisted and swung upside down from her ankles. Her hands were cuffed behind her back and a ball-gag filled her mouth. Two naked office women were beating her with rubber paddles, the smack of flesh ringing back from the hard walls. The hopeless flinches and writhing she made in response to the stinging blows only added to her torment. Loops of cord had been wrapped about the roots of her inverted breasts and lead weights hung from them. More weights hung from the silver clamps that pinched her nipples so tightly, drawing her breasts out into swelling, elongated cones of tortured flesh.

  Only when she was finally sobbing with pain and dribble from around her gag splattered the floor did the women stop beating her. Drawing up two chairs they sat facing each other with her dangling body between them, the chair seats putting their crotches level with Vanessa’s head. Each taking a nipple weight, they tugged at her breasts, pulling them in opposite directions and swinging her between them until Vanessa screamed through her gag for mercy and her eyes bulged.

  Tearing out her gag, one of them rubbed her inverted and flushed face into her scented pubes. ‘We’ll only take you down when you’ve made us both come,’ she told her.

  Desperately, Vanessa began to lick and suck at her fleshy cleft …

  The last man to have her left Vanessa bound over a punishment horse.

  She lay along the length of its narrow padded top, her wrists and ankles cuffed together and stretched down to where they were clipped to the side struts linking the horse’s splayed legs. Her breasts hung down on each side of the top beam and a cord passing underneath it tied her nipples together. The man’s sperm still dribbled out of her anus between her reddened buttocks, where they projected over the end of the beam.

  But after what she had endured that day the position almost felt comfortable. She was utterly pummelled and drained and had lost count of the number of orgasms that had been forced out of her. All she wanted to do was sleep …

  Then somebody lifted her head by a handful of hair and slapped her cheek. She opened bleary eyes and saw it was Zara.

  ‘Not yet, girl,’ she said. ‘I’ve still got to have my go …’

  She turned Vanessa’s limp and unresisting body over on to her back and refastened her wrists and ankles to the side struts. Taking a tapered bracing strap from the selection hanging on the walls, she buckled it about Vanessa’s neck and the padded beam, ensuring she could not turn her head aside. Then she stripped off her own clothes and climbed on to Vanessa so that her thighs straddled her upturned face. She bent and kissed Vanessa’s ravaged and swollen pussy.

  ‘I can taste everyone who’s used you. That takes me back …’

  She began to ride Vanessa’s face as one would use an inanimate object for pleasure.

  ‘Have you learnt your lesson?’ Zara asked, giving Vanessa’s clitoris a warning nip between her teeth.

  ‘Ahhh … yes, Mistress Editor!’ Vanessa said indistinctly from between Zara’s sticky love-lips as they slithered up and down her face.

  ‘Good. I’ve arranged for you to visit the Fellgrish Institute the day after tomorrow. You can see for yourself how carefully we select our girls.’ She nipped Vanessa’s clit again. ‘And this time get your facts right!’

  Thirteen

  THE FELLGRISH INSTITUTE nestled in one corner of a science park south-west of central Oxford off the Henley Road. It was a low, slab-like building with a façade that mingled red brick with tinted glass and polished steel. Under the Institute’s name on the plaque beside the main door it said: ‘Human Response Laboratory’.

  Apart from not having to consult a map for directions, another advantage of being under constant monitoring, Vanessa realised, was that people knew who she was and when she had arrived. She didn’t even have to announce herself. The woman behind the reception desk looked up as she approached and said: ‘Miss Buckingham? Dr Gold is expecting you. Through that door please …’

  Monitor guided her along a corridor and through a second set of security doors to an office bearing the nameplate H. GOLD MD.

  Sitting behind an untidy desk framed by shelves crammed with books and file folders, Dr Gold was an almost perfect cliché of a traditional scientist. He was short, balding and bespectacled, wore a white lab coat and had a slightly distracted manner. In his hand, however, he held a remote controller like the one Jarvis used.

  ‘Ah, yes, the reporter girl,’ he said, blinking owlishly at Vanessa. ‘Thank you, Monitor, I have control of her now …’

  He pressed a button. ‘I’ve unlocked your collar, girl. You’ll wear one of ours while you’re here. Now get those clothes off …’

  In two minutes Vanessa was naked but for her sandals and an Institute collar, which was similar to her house collar except that it seemed to have more contact points on its inside. It fitted closely round her neck. Gold looked her up and down with an approving smile, then pressed a button on the controller. Vanessa felt the familiar stinging pain, making her wince. Gold smiled at her distress.

  ‘I don’t have to demonstrate what will happen if you make a nuisance of yourself, do I, girl?’

  ‘No, Dr,’ Vanessa said quickly.

  ‘You will call me “Master”’.

  ‘Yes, Master.’

  ‘Now, you were told you could not take pictures or make live recordings? You will work from notes only and not use real names in any article you write. We must maintain our subjects’ anonymity until they have consented to become Shiller slaves. Is that understood?’

  ‘Yes, Master.’

  ‘Good. I’ve scheduled ten minutes for you to gather background, as I believe you call it, and then an hour to tour our facility. You may begin …’ he patted his knee ‘… sit here.’

  Clasping her notebook she seated herself on his lap. She felt slightly foolish as she was half a head taller than Gold. His hand slid up her between her thighs and began to fondle her pubes. She gritted her teeth. This was not going to be easy.

  ‘First, Master, how would you describe the aims of the Fellgrish Institute?’

  ‘Oh, to investigate and codify the full range of female emotional responses to varied visual, physical or emotional stimuli, with special reference to their influence on the sexual urge. Also to identify those individuals with behavioural patterns suggesting an inherent predisposition to what is commonly known as “submissive” or “masochistic” behaviour. Through a process of graduated selection and testing we aim to focus on those women with both a higher than average sex drive and a positive response to imposed order and discipline.’

  Vanessa struggled to get all that down while Gold’s fingers were busy teasing her clitoris. ‘And how exactly do you go about selecting girls for slave training, Master?’

  ‘Initially we surv
ey women of suitable age, health and appearance, via detailed personality questionnaires circulated through colleges, magazines, social centres and so forth. We send out a few thousand every month. Those women who give responses suggesting they have above average submissive or masochistic tendencies are invited here for closer investigation and testing.’

  ‘And how many of those turn out to be suitable for slave training, Master?’

  ‘It averages perhaps three or four a month.’

  Vanessa gritted her teeth as Gold’s fingers slid up her vagina. ‘Not many out of thousands, Master.’

  ‘There are undoubtedly many more we miss. Probably the majority of what one might call natural slaves never fully achieve their potential. It is a matter of being given the opportunity we provide. Many would never express their true natures or suspect they had such a desire if it were not for us.’

  She was making a stain on his trousers now. ‘Do you encourage them to become slaves, Master?’

  ‘No, there are no inducements of any kind. We only pay their travelling expenses and a token fee to cover their time. The testing programme is entirely voluntary and may involve sessions spread over two or three months. If they did not enjoy it they would simply not attend. And they do not graduate to the next stage of testing without knowing what degree of personal discomfort or intrusion it may involve.’ He indicated a filing cabinet. ‘We have the waivers they sign on file if you wish to examine them, together with videoed interviews.’

  ‘Perhaps later, Master.’

  ‘We do not say we are looking for natural submissives, of course,’ Gold said with a smile. ‘At first they believe they are participating in a series of experiments to test responses to sexual imagery. If they react favourably to those they move on to testing certain sex toys. Later, if they are willing, they graduate to what we tell them is an examination of their reactions to combinations of physical, emotional and sexual stimulation. We say this has applications in understanding the effects of long-term hostage situations and military anti-interrogation training.’

  ‘You lie to them, Master.’

  ‘Not really. The data we collect is valuable and is submitted to many reputable journals. Only our ultimate purpose is withheld. Most of our subjects probably think they are using us as an excuse to do things in the name of science that they would never dare do in ordinary life. We create an environment where they feel free to explore the limits of their sexual desires by providing an excuse to bypass traditional inhibitions.’ He smiled cheerfully, twirling his fingers inside her. ‘In other words we free them from guilt.’

  ‘I see, Master. May I ask, on a personal level, do you find your work fulfilling?’

  ‘I find the workings of the human mind endlessly fascinating and its study a continual challenge. In addition, I have the natural male interest in the female of our species, plus a taste for seeing her in situations of confinement and libidinous activity. It is both intellectually and emotionally satisfying.’

  He pulled his fingers out of Vanessa’s now dripping vulva and held them up to display the wet sheen that coated them.

  ‘For example, in how many other occupations could I, a man of modest physical appeal to the opposite sex, have an attractive woman sit naked on my lap and accept my toying with her mons veneris less than five minutes after meeting her?’

  Before taking Vanessa on a tour of the facility, Gold took out of a drawer a phallic object of transparent plastic with complex circuitry visible within it, together with two flat rings of black plastic with fine metallic contacts clustered about their undersides.

  ‘A vaginal probe and nipple sensors,’ Gold explained. ‘They work in conjunction with your collar. Via short-range radio circuits they relay measurements on your state of sexual arousal. We use variations of this system on our test subjects. I thought it might be interesting to measure your responses to our work. Bend over …’

  The probe was held in place by a pair of rubber-jawed clips on its base that clipped to her inner labia. In comparison to some of the objects that had been inserted into her vagina over the last three weeks, it was quite comfortable. The nipple sensor rings were lightly self-adhesive and covered her areolae, leaving her hardening teat tips poking through the hole in the middle. Gold chuckled at this display. ‘It seems you do not require much in the way of stimulation, girl …’

  He clipped a leash to her collar and led her out into the corridor. Vanessa shivered nervously, wondering how well used the corridor was and who might see her naked and leashed like a dog. A couple of white-coated men passed, nodding to Gold but hardly paying her a second glance.

  Double doors at the end of the corridor opened and a man dressed like a hospital porter appeared pushing a metal-topped trolley. On it was a naked girl lying on her back with her arms strapped down to her sides. A crepe bandage covered her eyes and she had a vaguely medical-looking tube plugged into one side of her mouth and held in place by tape, forming an effective gag. Wires trailed from electrode pads adhered to her chest and groin. Her knees were bent, her feet spread and ankles cuffed to the trolley frame. This left her dark-haired, full-lipped vagina spread wide by a metal speculum exposed for all to see.

  Gold drew Vanessa aside to let the trolley pass.

  ‘This is part of an ongoing psychological test,’ he said quietly. ‘She’s been told she has to be moved to another room as there’s been an equipment breakdown just before she was to have a deep vaginal sensitivity scan. In fact we are determining how she responds to being casually exposed like this in a semi-public situation. She’ll be wheeled around and then left unattended for a while. We find any shame usually gives way very quickly to arousal. Occasionally they fear having being forgotten or even suffer frustrated boredom. Afterwards we explain it was deliberate and all part of the test. They quite understand.’

  Gold led Vanessa through a set of security doors into a long, dimly lit corridor. On either side of it and running its entire length were pairs of doors and large windows. Vanessa recognised the speakers beside the window frames and the slightly misty look of the glass. They were one-way mirrors like in level B3.

  ‘We have a variety of subjects undergoing tests at the moment,’ Gold said. ‘They represent most of the stages in the process. We’ll start with a new girl …’

  They looked into a small room holding a couch and a large TV. A slim red-haired girl, dressed only in a sensor collar and light hospital gown, lay on the couch watching the images flicker across the screen. Commonplace scenes were interposed with shots from porn movies. On the arm of a couch was a pad with a selection of buttons, which she pressed after each image.

  ‘We’re testing her reaction to sexual imagery,’ Gold said. ‘She’s wearing a vaginal probe and nipple sensors as well, of course. We record her deliberate responses together with her unconscious ones. Comparing the two later on will help her begin to free herself of any habituated shame and guilt.’

  Vanessa peered more closely at the girl’s collar. It had a tag with S14 embossed upon it.

  ‘I assume there’s another reason you use collars, Master,’ Vanessa said. ‘It must be useful to see how they react to wearing them when you’re looking for potential slaves. And tagged like dogs as well. Let me guess; they’re only referred to by their collar number while they’re in here.’

  Gold favoured her with a smile. ‘Very good. Yes, we tell them the collars are less obtrusive than a lot of wiring and the alphanumeric codes are to ensure confidentiality, but as you deduce, there is a secondary purpose.’

  A string of porn images were flickering across the screen. The girl had slipped a hand under her robe and was rubbing her groin. Gold chuckled at the sight. ‘I think she shows promise …’

  Next a woman with close-cropped dark hair, naked apart from collar and nipple sensors, was lying back on a bed while using a large silver vibrator on herself. She was working the device back and forth in her equally close-shaven sex with evident enthusiasm. Her ankles were confined in br
oad rubber cuffs and pulled out to the corners of the bed, though they were obviously only fastened by velcro straps and easily releasable.

  ‘She’s testing a new design of vibrator for the sex-toy market,’ Gold said. ‘We tell them their legs must be held apart at a regulation distance for consistency.’

  ‘While actually getting them used to associating sexual gratification with bondage, Master?’

  ‘We allow her to make the association. Her readings show a distinct elevation of arousal while she is strapping her ankles in place, before she’s even touched the vibrator.’

  ‘So you’re conditioning her, Master?’

  ‘No. She’s conditioning herself …’

  In the next room, a hooded blonde girl was kneeling on all fours on a low, padded bench, her wrists and ankles secured by heavy cuffs. Under one hand was a button pad. A rod rose up at an angle from the bench under her and pressed a padded bar against her hips. This bracing was necessary because on a stand behind her was a rotating wheel sporting half a dozen very realistic-looking, erect rubber penises of different sizes, with a number of transparent tubes plugged into their bases. Between it and her was a clear plastic shield that covered her buttocks, pierced only by a hole in line with her pouting, eager-looking vagina.

  As they watched, the wheel rotated, bringing a new penis opposite the hole in the shield. The penis was extended on a hydraulic rod even as the stand carrying it tilted forwards. The fake cockhead slid into the woman’s vagina, penetrating her to the root. She tossed back her hooded head in apparent pleasure. The stand began to rock back and forth in a realistic rhythm, setting her breasts swaying with every thrust.

  ‘This is one of our more advanced subjects and a near certainty for slavehood, I think,’ Gold said with a twinkle in his eye. ‘She has already admitted a liking for sex and bondage combined, and has asked to try more unusual experiments just for the pleasure it gives her. Together we have concocted a spurious scientific excuse for a test where she has to try to tell the difference between a real penis and a fake one, without any other clues save vaginal contact.’