Zippers

Part 32

She held a little card up to a plastic panel next to the door, it beeped and the little red light turned green. We were at the same entrance that I had come to when they had pierced me. Mistress Davina led me down the stairs and round the corridors.

We passed a couple of older women with cleaning equipment who paid us no attention. Then a young woman in a purple prom dress hurried past us. The older women had worn the faded dark yellow all-in-one dresses of cleaners. The girl had been beautiful, her dark hair set in twists with tasteful but glamorous make-up. She had briefly noticed me and cast her eye down me, dressed as I was in short-skirted white leather and my high white stiletto pumps, but she clearly had her own purpose and strode briskly on. We took a convoluted path through the corridors of the complex building and I was soon disorientated.

‘Come and sit here’

She set me down in a large kitchen at the table. She took some milk from the fridge and started spooning powder from a giant tin into a pint sized glass. She poured the milk on top and started to stir until the mixture became thick and pink coloured.

‘Drink this Anita’

It was slightly sweet, thick but not unpleasant.

‘What time of day do you shit?’

I had to concentrate not to cough out my mouthful. I regained my composure and quickly swallowed.

‘About now, in the morning’, I said blushing slightly ’usually after I’ve had coffee’

‘Good’, she said as she took two cups from the shelf. She filled them with coffee that was sat, warming, on top of the percolator. She handed one to me, not asking how I took it.

I heard footsteps behind me, two other women came in.

‘Coffee now Bitch’, snapped the first, a light brown-skinned women with blond hair that was short, swept back and shaved at the sides.

I looked around quickly to see if she meant me, but the other girl that she was with rushed over to get her coffee. The first woman sat down, opposite me, next to Davina and looked at me. I lowered my eyes and started to breathe more quickly. This was like going to school for the first time, unfamiliar places and unfamiliar people that made me feel very threatened. This woman was clearly a Mistress, and the other girl, I suspected, was like me.

‘Pretty slut, I do like your earrings’, said the new woman. I carefully looked up, slightly, not enough to stare at her but enough to see if she was talking to me.

‘Thank you, Mistress’, I said softly, looking down again.

‘Show them to me’

This was terrible, how many of these women were there? How many Mistresses was I going to have to obey? I brushed my hair back with both hands, lifted my head, briefly caught her cold eyes, blushed, lowered my eyes again and turned my head slowly to each side. I wore a set of seven matching creoles in each ear, starting with a small oval at the top and increasing in size until the lowest, front ones were large three inch long patterned horseshoes. I hated them and I glowed as she let me carry on modelling them to her.

The other girl wasted no time in getting the new Mistress’s coffee in front of her, before kneeling down on the floor behind her.

‘What have you got planned for today?’ asked the new woman, turning away from me.

‘Induction and exercise, then I haven’t made up my mind. You?’ said Davina

‘Well, my other slut is already in the box, I was going to run this one through some exercises, get her performing and then she has a date later. Maybe we could train these two together later on?’

‘Yes. Anita, get down on the floor while we’re talking’, Davina scolded me. I jumped down and knelt next to the chair.

‘And drink your coffee up’

I did as I was told, sipping at the hot black drink and resting it on the chair that I had just been sat on. From the floor, I could see the other girl past her Mistress’s boots. She had her head down and knelt with her legs apart. She wore a tight red dress that stretched awkwardly as it fought against her parted legs. She had medium brown skin and quite a striking look. Her face looked Middle-Eastern, perhaps Turkish, with bold handsome cheekbones and wide features. With her thin painted-on eyebrows but no other make-up, she had a slightly cat-like look to her. Her hair was unsubtly blonded to a bleached straw-yellow colour that streaked into different textures and shades, whilst her roots were her normal dark brown colour giving her a cheap but sexy look. Her hair was thrown back and blow-dried into a style that was similar to my own; big, away from her face and long at the back, but she wore a product that made it look like it was still a little damp. On her feet, splayed outwards and held sideways, flat against the ground by her wide, kneeling posture, she wore a pair of shiny red stilettos, held on her feet by three ankle straps. She wore a pair of large gold hoop earrings and a shiny red collar that had large gold studs pressed around its circumference. She looked like an Arabian princess who was being forced to dress like a slut. I immediately felt for her.

The other Mistress’s feet moved often as she fidgeted and talked with Davina. The other girl caught my eye, and then quickly looked away.

‘I said drink!’ my Mistress called out, hitting her cup onto the table above me. I could tell by the hollow sound and by how hard she had been able to hit it, that she had finished her drink, in spite of how hot the coffee was.

‘Yes Mistress!’

I swallowed mine down as quickly as I could, even though it scorched inside my gullet.

‘Come on then, follow me’, she said.

‘This is an access terminal’

I stared at the large, busy graphic-interface on the touch screen that hung on the wall.

‘And there you are’

She touched the interface and it called up a diagram of the floor that was spotted with little labelled dots. Her long dark fingernail pointed to one that said ‘Anita’.

She had taken me via a small control room that had been covered with screens showing views of rooms and corridors. The smaller computer-girl who had been round at my flat earlier had been in there working at the machines. Mistress Davina had obviously taken my mobile phone because she handed it to the girl. She wasted no time in cracking the back open, removing the SIM card and feeding that into one of her machines. Then she plugged my phone into a different machine and started typing. I stood there in silence while she worked. Davina was busy over at the far side. In a moment, Davina came over to me holding a small thin cardboard box about the size of an old video cassette.

‘Kneel’

I had dropped to my knees, sitting back on my heels

‘Kneel up’ 

I wasn’t sure what she meant but I lifted myself up as high as I could whilst staying on my knees.

‘This is for you to wear whilst you are at the club’

She flipped open the cardboard lid and took out a white object that was wrapped in plastic. As she pulled it from its bag I could see that it was a collar, like my one at home, white, with gold fittings. As she spread the folded leather open, I could see that it was different. The white leather was thicker and looked stiffer, stronger and of higher quality but it looked less flexible, maybe because it was new. In any case, it looked like it would be less comfortable.

The studs were not simple bumps like on my normal collar. They were long, scary-looking gold-coloured spikes that widened away from their dangerous-looking points until, after flaring, they scalloped quickly inwards before piercing the leather. I gasped as I saw how it looked, it was frightening.

As she held it taut and open in front of me, turning it over, I could see that the gold studs were mated to smooth, comfortable looking brass pads on the inside. The two throat-studs on the inside had been faithfully recreated but these looked a little more complicated. Instead of being two bland studs of metal, these were shielded from the collar by black plastic grommets and it looked like the part of the collar in between them housed something behind a metal plate. My heart started to beat faster as I didn’t know what this meant; and I knew that everything so far had been bad. Also, with its more extreme studs it was so much more daring and embarrassing. It had a degrading slutty-glamour-punk look to it and it looked like it belonged around the throat of a whore, or perhaps her dog.

I held my arms tightly against my sides to make sure I resisted every impulse to hold my hands up to protect my neck. She brushed the back of my hair aside and then wound the collar onto my throat, buckling it securely behind.

I shifted my head, swallowing, trying to get it to sit more comfortably, slightly worried that the spikes might get me.

‘Oooh yes, definitely nice and slutty’, her smile was back as she stroked my burning cheek and brushed my hair away so that my new collar was on show. She had stood me up and pulled me over to stand in front of the mirror, to see myself. The collar looked exactly as I thought it would on me, the gold highlighted the earrings I wore and the rings hanging through my nipples. My plump lips hung miserably as I saw that I looked like a girl who was screaming for attention; of only one specific kind.

I soon discovered that there was a chip in my new collar that would inform the house computer of my position within the building. Sure enough, it had me exactly where I was, stood in front of a terminal on the lower, basement floor. Some of the labelled dots were moving slowly about the building; ‘Eva’, ‘Tynisha’ and ‘Lana’, whilst others that were stationary; ‘Lilia’ and ‘Anita’. I was almost caught by a powerful sob when it struck me for the first time the scale of their operation here. This club was large, over at least three floors and this was the middle of the day when the club would be closed. How many other girls before me had been captured and subjected to this terrible purpose? It could be dozens, or maybe more.

‘Your collar can be activated, to make you do things.’

She turned my chin so that I was looking at her.

‘It will signal to you if you are to receive instruction. Then you will report to a terminal to find out what is required of you. Your response to this has already been programmed and you will not be able to resist’

She touched a small box on the right hand side of the screen.

‘Go and stand over there’, she pointed down the corridor. I walked a few feet from her, looking shyly back as I went, to see what she was doing. She was typing something on the screen. After a minute she finished and then touched the screen once more.

I felt a buzz at the front of my neck and I my eyes shot open in surprise. Suddenly, I knew that I had to get to a screen and I knew, like when Trisha or Vivienne had frozen me or clicked me to walk at heel, that I would simply not be able to disobey. I felt like there was something alien in my head as I started to walk. I started crying. Davina grinned and stepped aside. I obeyed my bidding, my will limp and fully compliant, until I stood in front of the terminal. The computer knew exactly where I was and a little rectangle with ‘Anita’ on it popped onto the side of the screen. I didn’t know if I was being forced to or not, but my finger went straight to it. A large box opened on the screen with ‘Anita - Instruction - Remove all your clothes except your slutty shoes and your sexy new collar, then get onto your belly and crawl, dragging your belly and tits along the floor to lick Mistress Davina’s boots, do not stop until she says ‘good girl’’

Tears spilled from my eyes as my hands started to work without my permission. I dropped my little leather jacket onto the floor. I peeled off my tight pink boob-tube top and then unbuttoned and unzipped my white leather skirt, shrugging it down around my feet. I had not been allowed to wear underwear so I was standing naked, but only briefly. Within a few seconds I had dropped to the floor. I pressed my belly and breasts onto the cold plastic tiling, feeling the dry powder and grains from the slight dirt against me. There was pain as I started to move and my nipple rings snagged against the floor. It was hard to crawl on my belly. I had to spread my legs wide to each side like a slutty frog, smearing myself along the floor. I was sobbing uncontrollably as I my body inched itself, against my will, towards her black high-heeled boots.

‘Yes’, she whispered, ’you see how this works now don’t you’

‘Yes Mistress’, I wept as I got to her and started to kiss her feet. My saliva glistened on the dull leather of her boots as I licked at them. The stud in my tongue hurt like hell as I pushed on it, but I still dragged it across her foot, punishing myself with its every stroke. It started to feel like it was tearing at my tongue. I was so scared.

‘Good girl’, she whispered and I was released as suddenly as I had been controlled.

I pulled my tongue back into my mouth and clamped it shut.

I was in control again but lost. I didn’t know what to do. Half of me wanted to hold her by her boots again and press my cheek tightly into her, the other half wanted to stand up and run from her as fast as I could. I was in this big new place that I didn’t understand and I didn’t know the way out. I now knew that I would be unable to hide anywhere; that they would always know exactly where I was. I knew that I could be commanded and controlled in this building by a simple signal to my collar, which would render me totally obedient. I felt very tiny and at the centre of an immense and dangerous universe. I felt like I was being reduced to a mere number, a controllable commodity, one among many who could be made to dance or crawl, or to perform in any other way.

I looked up at her and swallowed with a renewed fear, realising the power that she had over me. Then I looked up at the terminal; anyone could send a message to me while I was here, all they would need would be the right code and the internet. I looked up at the ceiling and saw the camera looking down at me. Who was watching me, ready to control me? Was Vivienne watching? Was Trisha? Would they make my collar buzz and write terrible things on the screen for me to do?

I reached for her boot as my lips tightened and quivered. All I had now was this new Mistress. I desperately needed her to be a kind, fair Mistress to me. It felt like a long shot but it was the only thing that I could think to hope for. She had stroked my head earlier and had called me a ‘brave girl’. I so wanted her to take pity on me and to protect me from the others and from this place. She pulled her foot away and stepped off, down the corridor.

‘Pick up your clothes and come along now Anita’