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Chapter 5 – Orientation
By Vdias
Veronica looked at Hanna. “You’ve done well this morning, I’m going to give you a little treat”. Her fingers played across Hanna’s considerable breasts. She spent a few minutes squeezing and stroking her ringed nipples and wet clit, watching the slave-girl grow excited. Hanna began to squirm and moan through her gag under Veronica’s teasing, her hips wriggling in an attempt to get more pressure. With her legs wide apart, her boots made little scraping sounds against the floor as she quivered, wetness dripping down her thighs.
Just as she was on the cusp of a climax, Veronica twisted Hanna’s tits rings agonisingly hard enough to make her squeal past her gag, until she dropped from the peak of her arousal. It was clear from Hannah’s wet cheeks, pleading eyes and muffled whines that she considered this anything but a treat. Watching Veronica demonstrate her power over this hapless slave-girl made Katherine wet all over again. Once more her mind turned to Emily, wild ideas stroking her imagination and excitement.
“That’s enough fun, time to continue your orientation.” Wiping her sticky fingers in Hanna’s hair, Veronica turned to Katherine who was breathing almost as heavily as Hanna and laughed. “Save yourself, you have plenty of time for that later” Kat nodded silently as she took a deep breath and composed herself. Poor Hanna’s breathing, restricted as it was by the intruder down her throat, took longer to slow.
They headed towards the building that the new slave-girls had just entered. The frustrated Hanna trotted behind them, her leash still held firmly in Kat’s hand. The building consisted of several floors of rooms, each with one-way mirrors similar in layout to the processing building but with classrooms instead.
“How long does each girl go through training?” Kat asked.
“Training usually takes about a year unless they’re assigned to specialist roles. They’re ranked by the number of skills they’ve acquired and you can tell how far they are by the colour of their collars.” Veronica indicated Hanna’s red collar. “New girls start off white, then goes pink, green, red and black. Black means they’re ready to be handed to a client.”
“You probably noticed the little tags on her collar. Think of them like military ribbons, except they indicate what the sexual skills the slaves are proficient in. They serve as physical, humiliating reminders of the lewd skills that they’ve learnt. See this,” Veronica tapped a tag on Hanna’s collar shaped like silhouette of a kitten “This means that she’s skilled in pussy licking.”
“And these,” She brushed several tags of varying colours in stylised shapes of penises and vaginas “shows how many men and women she has fucked or been fucked by.” She laughed as Hanna blushed in shame. “The colours show whether she used her mouth, cunt, ass, breasts or hands. It’s all the more humiliating for her considering that she came from a good Catholic family yet she’s probably fucked more people than most hookers. And she’s not even out of training yet. ”
“Speaking of which” Veronica took another tag from her belt pouch and added it to the shiny collection on Hanna’s collar. “That’s for her morning with you. Remember you’ll need to tag them every time if you fuck one of the girls. Also remember this tag,” She tugged at two round black discs set on a separate ring in her collar “This is for each time a slave-girl is sent to the punishment rooms.”
“When do they get sent to the punishment rooms”
“Depends. If they displease one of the clients it’s almost a guaranteed trip there. We can take them there for any infractions but usually we just administer discipline on the spot, or note it down for later. Punishment rooms are generally used for under-performance or disobeying orders. No girl who’ve been sent there ever want to pay another visit.”
“Ah here’s the recent intake, they’re going through sex skill assessment right now”
This room resembled a school hall. Girls were herded into lines in front of several stations, performed some sexual test and then moved to the next station. At one of the stations sat a row of rubber dildos mounted on rods set in the floor. At a command from a guard, the girls reluctantly stood over the dildos and crouched, pushing them as deep inside their pussy as they could go. The guard walked down the row, flicking her cane against each straining butt-cheek or exposed back for encouragement.
The test was repeated two more times, one for their ass and one for their mouths. For a few poor girls it was reported that the dildo slid inside too easily and they were forced to repeat the test with thicker dildos. Their faces were red with the strain of pushing in the wider girth into each orifice. A lab-coated technician measured the depth by notches marked on each dildo, and clipped three tags that indicated their vaginal, anal and oral depths and thickness onto their white collars.
At another section, the new slave-girls stood with their legs apart while pink-collared students licked them to an orgasm. Each one was timed to measure their sensitivity. Some of the heterosexual girls, never having been with another girl, cried openly in disgust and horror as their nether regions were nuzzled by the fearful pink-collars. More guards lashed at licking slaves for every half-minute the girl they worked on did not come. One of them had her back and buttocks turned into a mass of welts as she vainly tried to get her partner to come. Eventually she was dragged off, a black disc clipped to her collar and another girl took her place.
By the end, the girls had their pussy, ass and throat depth measured. Their sensitivity and tolerance to pain had been assessed. Each had sucked and fucked one man and slave-girl at least once. A ring in each of their collars were already jingling with tags, ranking their performance. Other rings waited to be filled when they were trained. Kat was eager to see what Emily’s tags said about her, but instead she followed Veronica to the next floor.
They passed classrooms with numerous subjects. ‘Slave postures’, ‘Conduct and Behaviour’, ‘Makeup’, ‘Cock Sucking’ and ‘Cunt Licking’ were label at each room. The group stopped in front of one that said ‘Sex positions’ where the one way mirror showed rows of pink-collared girls, watching as one of their classmates lay flat on her back, then lifted herself up in the gym bridge position. A male guard, naked from the waist down crouched at her head and slid his cock into her open mouth. On the other end, a female guard wearing a strap-on double dildo knelt between her spread thighs and roughly pushed herself into both dry holes, forcing her mouth deeper on the man’s rod.
‘So you see,” the woman guard said to the class “This position lets me access her tits and cunt easier than doggy style.” She demonstrated by pinching the slave-girls clit, then swiping her raised breasts with her cane, eliciting a scream that was muffled by the cock down her throat. “Now everyone practice and as you should remember from slave posture classes, always on tip-toes.”
The class complied, the pink collars adopting the position. The male guard inspected their height, dipping his thick cock into a proffered mouth or open pussy while the woman corrected their postures with her cane, whipping their straining curved backs. Any poor slave-girl who left her feet or hands flat on the ground found them crushed by her sharp stilettos.
“These are some the basic subjects that all the slave-girls go through. There are advanced subjects as well such as pain-tolerance, role-plays, language studies, geography, maths-”
“Wait,” interrupted Kat “what are those last subjects?”
“Ah, not all our clients want to rape and torture random brainless sluts. Some prefer women of class and education to own and dominate or those who speak their native languages. Blonde American girls who can speak Asian languages are obviously very popular with the rich Chinese and Japanese. Our training covers everything we need. Here’s a geography class right now.”
The classroom was occupied by red-collared girls, all kneeling face down so they could not see the world map hung from the front wall. A male guard had his thick cock buried in the ass of the slave teacher, her shiny tags tinkling from her black collar as he plowed her from behind, pinning her hard against the lectern with each thrust.
“Name the capital of China, Amy” she panted.
“Shanghai, Mistress” a brunette in the front row replied.
“No, that’s a common mistake, the answer is Beijing” the teacher gasped at a particularly violent shove from the guard ravaging her ass.
A second guard prodded his baton against Amy’s puckered ass hole and pressed a button. There was a zap and Amy shrieked, her butt clenching against the electric intruder. The class as a whole flinched and Katherine felt the leash in her hand twitch as Hanna also winced in sympathy.
By the time they left the classrooms it was nearly noon. Just past the entrance they stopped in front of a map that displayed the layout of the rest of the Haven. Katherine’s jaw dropped at the realisation of how large the place was. It was about four times as large as the resort she had came from less than half a day ago.
“Oh my lord, this place is huge!”
“Very” replied Veronica “It’s a Disneyland for adults who enjoy torturing girls. There are approximately three thousand slaves available, and one thousand guests, plus seven hundred support staff like you and me. Almost two slaves for every patron and employee here. Considering the guests pay astronomical amounts of money to stay here and we get paid to do the same, I think we’ve got a pretty good deal.”
The Haven was laid out in a circular shape, broken up by smaller circular sections nestled inside. Labels such as ‘Haven Prison’, ‘Haven Farms’ and ‘Church of Haven’ amongst other themes dotted the layout.
“We’re right here in the middle,” Veronica tapped the centre of the map at the circular section marked ‘Training Complex’. “Directly north of us the Haven Hospital. It accommodates those who have a medical fetish. Doctors and nurses, therapists and patients, that sort of thing. It also doubles up as a real medical centre where sick clients can be treated in comfort, served by slaves and injuries to slaves can be treated. Broken bones, torn arse holes, ripped nipple rings and the like.”
“The other parks caters for other fantasy fetishes that our guests desire. Some are built to order, like this one.“ She pointed to an unlabeled smaller circle nestled between ‘Haven School Grounds and ‘Power-plant’ with a small castle icon. “We built this castle specifically for one guest. Mr Travis likes to pretend he is Dracula with his own harem of vampire slave sluts. On some nights, a group of us dress up as angry peasants and we pretend to storm his castle, he beats us back naturally and has his way with a few of us.”
She noticed Kat’s surprised expression “Ah, I should point out that though we’re not slaves, we are employees of the Haven and we’re expected to defer to our clients and participate in their games. Don’t worry, guests have strict rules about what they can do with us and a lot of their games turn out to be incredibly fun”.
“I’ll take your word for it” Kat replied dubiously.
“We’ll go to the cafeteria and then visit Haven Hospital. Let’s flag down a ponycart.”
“Ponycart...?”
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Any feedback always appreciated!
kvdias(at)yahoo.com.au
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