Deer Lake Pt. 03

I shift uncomfortably in the seat. The cracked plastic sticks to my bare bottom, bidding me to stay in place. I don't know how long I've been away, it's not sleep or unconsciousness, but just sort of drifting. Martin had left me after he found his relief. I'd hung there for three full days. I watched the sun rise and set through the cracks under the door. No one had come to see me, no one had brought me food or water. There was nothing to do, nothing but watch the fleshy sack on the grate floor beside me grow and grow. What had started as a lump about the size of a football had grown and grown until it was easily big enough to hold me.

It had hatched like the other duplicate had, only Martin wasn't here to help my duplicate. It had crawled around for a bit, its hair and body drenched and dripping with the same gooey viscera the other duplicate had. Martin had arrived a few minutes after it hatched, this time with a hose to clean it off. He sprayed it down and pulled the tube from my nose and then everything got fuzzy.

Now I'm here. Inside myself, but not myself. I can feel my skin, the gentle hug of a light cotton dress, the smell of grass, the cold steel against my ankle, but I move nothing. I make no choices. A prisoner in my own head, my own skin. I watch and feel and think.

Martin trains us both. She -the other- she's blank and new. Martin trains her in how to please, not that she needs much training. He teaches her commands, like tricks. Position one, On her knees with hands on either thigh, back straight, and eyes up to her master. Position two, she places both hands flat on the floor in front of her, pulling herself forward and facing down at the floor, arching her back slightly. Position 3, she pushes her chest towards the floor and pulls her knees up against her tummy, arching her back to accentuate her hips, and display her asshole.

Once she's in a position, he'll circle her. Slap he'll critique her, push her into the proper place, maybe slap her ass or put a thumb into her mouth. Once he's happy, he'll pull a little gooey black piece of something from a small jar and drop it into her mouth. I seem to - I mean she- seems to like this. She giggles and smiles, moving quickly from position to position, then back to standing. Her ass and tits jiggle as she moves, she flips out of the way without thinking. She's care free.

Once she's mastered the basics, toys become involved. Martin starts small, something like "push this into your pussy three times," and then once she's done that a few times, she gets a treat and the number grows. Five times, ten times, thirty times. She does it all with a smile, pushing the small dildo into herself, pulling it back out, her pussy juices glistening on the small silicone toy and dripping down to the cool steel floor, then without hesitation she pushes it back inside. Once she's confident in a toy, it's quickly replaced, usually by one much larger. Within the first few hours of training, the dildos were over a foot long and thicker than any man I've been with. Even when it causes her discomfort, her smile never fades for longer than a moment.

I receive different training, if you can even call it that. Once the Others finished with her training, she leaves the floor a mess. Pussy juices cover the floor, often toys are left wherever they fall. This is my job. Martin commands, quietly outlining areas that must be cleaned, toys that must be returned, and my body springs to work. No matter my protests inside, my body moves with perfect poise, tuning on a dime, grabbing the cleaning solution and mop bucket.

I clean, scrubbing cement and drying it, working by the clinical light of the dim basement. Once I finish, I put the supplies back where they came from, and return to Martin, he's inspecting the duplicate, who stands with her arms directly out to the sides and legs shoulder width apart, her mouth open and eyes forward.

"Sir, I've completed my cleaning." I feel my lips move, feel the voice I've always known vibrating my throat and my cheeks wiggle as I speak, but I don't choose to speak. Instead I watch. I feel my hands cross behind my back, my bare chest pushing slightly forward as my body speaks. Martin doesn't even look at me, instead he's massaging my duplicate's breast. He pulls it up, lets it drop, and pulls it back up.

"Might need some work," he mutters to himself, probing at the flesh just below and above her breast. He continues to inspect her, but waves a hand at me to motion me away. Without hesitation my body turns, carrying me back towards the small plastic chair I'd been sitting in. My body moves with clinical precision, I can feel every step, my bare feet against the cool cement and steel that lines the floor. My body turns and sits itself, crossing my legs and folding my hands in my lap.

For a moment I watch myself, watching my duplicate be inspected and treated like meat. The worst part is that she loves it, each poke and prod she grins, she smiles and laps up each gooey black treat Martin drops into her mouth.

Before my body can even really rest, the phone rings.

"Jennifer, would you mind?" Martin motions vague towards the corded phone hanging on the wall. Without hesitation, my body stand and proceeds towards the phone. Each slap of my feet against the cool cement sends a jolt down my spine. My body reaches out to the phone and pulls it off of its base.

"Hello, Martin's Repair Shop" my voice comes out sweet and flat, no hint of anxiety or terror that I feel. I suppose whatever piece of me that controls my body doesn't feel this way. She's calm and collected.

"Oh hello, who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?" the voice is familiar and strong, a slow and silky speech pattern I can't place, but know I've heard. As I listen, Martin speaks some commands to the other. She immediately drops to her butt, her legs spread wide, one arm behind her to support her and the other grasps a vibrator Martin hands her.

"Jennifer, sir." My voice responds instantly.

"Oh I thought so, do you remember me?"

Darren. That's where I know the voice from. The other begins to moan quietly as Martins pants drop down around his ankles. His cock is barely visible from here. He begins to rub his cock, looking the other up and down as she rubs the vibrator against her pussy. She smiles wide as she performs for him.

"Of course" my body responds, as if it had to wait for me to remember it. "Darren, how are you?"

"I'm well. Sounds like Martin has been working on you, may I speak to him?"

"It's Darren, he'd like to speak with you." My body covers the receiver and turns towards Martin.

"I'm busy- what's he- he want?" Martin responds between heavy breaths, his hand jerking at his little cock as his eyes stay locked on the other as she grinds on the vibrator. Her moans become louder by the moment, even from here I can see her pussy beginning to leak onto the freshly cleaned floor.

"Umm, he's busy, can I relay a message?"

"Sure, sure, sounds like it." Darren responds calmly,"He knows the deal, he can do his training, but I want you both delivered untouched."

"Of course Darren, I'll pass that message along." My body hangs up the phone and turns towards Darren. He's standing over the other, furiously masturbating with his cock just a few inches from her lips. His other hand takes firm grip of her hair, holding her head back and tilted up towards him. He grunts and groans loudly, his hips thrust once, then twice, and the blast of cum he's spurted into me when I had some sort of control spurted out across the other's face. She immediately extends her tongue, catching some of the waning spurts of cum before she rolls her tongue around her lips scraping up whatever cum she can without using her hands.

Martin steps back shoving his cock back into his pants and turning towards me. I fold my hands in front my naked body.

"What did that asshole want?" Martin asks gruffly, wiping the cum from his hand onto a small rag.

"He wanted to check in on our training status," I can feel a smile scrawl across my lips, "he asked me to remind you of the-"

"I know the fucking deal- that asshole thinks he owns us all." He looks at me, a slight smirk sparks on his lips, then he looks back at the other with her face still covered in cum.

"Clean her up."

Without any hesitation, my body begins to walk towards the other. My body immediately drops to her knees. The other continues to rub her cunt with the vibrator. There's a fire in her eyes as she watches my body draw close. I feel my fingers wrap around the back of her scalp, my lips draw close to her face.

I've never been this close to her. It's deeply unnerving. My lips part, and my tongue extends. I begin to gently lick the cum up. the moment it hits my tongue I hate it. It tastes foul, but I can't stop myself, I can't stop my body. I clasp my lips onto her cheek, sucking and licking my way up to just below her eye. I can feel Martin's eyes on the back of my head.

I feel the other begin to buck, the vibrator must be close to done with her. I lick and kiss across her face, sucking up the foul cum as she begins to shake and buck against me. I hold her head still by her hair as I get the last drops from her cheek, then as I start to pull back I feel her hand, sliding through my hair. She pulls my lips to hers, kissing my still parted and cum speckled lips deeply.

The perfect way in which my lips meet their own mirror shocks me to my core. I feel a deep tingle in the back of my mind, but still unable to control my body I can do nothing. She moans into my mouth, the air of her climax rushing into my lungs for just a moment as she releases me.

My head pulls back as hers rocks back over her shoulders, a loud moan pierces the room. I want to scream and run, but my body does no such thing. Instead it moves to part my hair and pull it back behind my shoulders.

I watch the others breathing slows and her shudders fall short.

"Well, Jennifer, any complaints with that?" Martin asks a shit eating grin scrawled across his face.

"No sir." Both me and the other turn to respond in tandem. Her words are lower, breathier, but mirror my own. I want to yell "NO" I want to scream and run away, I want to go home, back to my apartment, my class, my life. I fear I may never hear the morning announcements again. I may never see the employee lounge. I may never drink the god awful coffee I'd sipped so many early mornings.

In that moment though, I feel it. The little warm shock in the back of my mind. I can feel it, I think I can control it. I push the thought around in my mind, trying my best to move it somewhere useful.

"Alright Jennifers, you're ready, lets head to the closet, get you dressed and get you on your way." We both stand, proceeding to follow Martin to a small door at the back of the shop.

Picking my moment I shove the thought down, trying with all my might to stop moving. As I push I feel it. My body shudders for a moment, my stride falters. As quickly as it started it was gone. I feel my body continue to walk forward.

Maybe all hope isn't lost after all.