The Meeting Ch. 10byTaunus©
Chapter 10 – Cathy Kelly.
John Anderson found that his role had changed. Before Cathy Kelly become Jan’s slave girl, John enjoyed being the alpha male in a two-bedroom, two-bath apartment. Cathy’s slavery was conditioned on her being constantly bound. She was to have her hands secured behind her back and be leashed when not chained to the bedpost of Jan’s bed. Cathy came with a thick leather belt that fit about her waist and allowed her wrists to be cuffed behind her back to her elbows. She enjoyed being kept in a confined area. John was frequently pressed into attending to Jan’s thrall.
As Jan Dunsworthy discovered more and more about cybersex and slavery on the Internet, she became more interested in Jan’s unique abilities. To make the most complete interface with the Internet in the darkest portions of cyberspace, one had to be totally connected to wires, transducers, sensors, stimulators, pipes, tubes, and catheters. Cathy was that kind of a girl.
“I want to let Cathy be totally connected to the ‘Net,” Jan mentioned to John as they were eating some fast food.
John set aside a chicken strip and looked Jan in the eye. “Whatever are you talking about? Cathy is placed into a ‘skin’ of electric devices and has tubes stuck in everywhere from her mouth to her pussy. I can’t see what else you could expect. Besides, it takes time to wire the girl up.”
“What I had in mind was the digital yarmulke, like the Initiate wear,” Jan explained coyly.
“Jan,” John retorted in extreme exasperation, “Cathy is a subbie. She is a pleasure unit. You really don’t expect her to operate at the level of one of those dedicated hackers. I don’t agree with their austere abstinence. I don’t think that they are correct in their philosophical approach to live, the universe, and everything, either. But they are single-minded in hacking into everything under the sun. If an encryption can be broken, they will do it. And they have certainly gotten Cathy into the underground of the Pleasure Fair without the AI collective even being aware of it.”
“John,” Jan replied, this time with some aggravation, “Are you with me or not?”
“OK,” John answered, “I’m in. What do I need to do?”
“For starters,” Jan delineated, “we need to shave Cathy.”
“She already shaved, except for her head and underarms. It was you who insisted that her armpits remain hairy, for whatever reason I have no idea,” John responded.
“I like her to smell like a woman while she’s my slave,” Jan said as she flashed a delicate smile. “We need her head bald for the yarmulke. Take off her eyebrows as well. The eyelashes can remain; they are too much trouble to trim.”
“Yeah,” John interjected, “that would be too much work. This is to be a morning ritual?” Already John found that in the morning he would have to secure Cathy’s hands, wrists to elbows, in her leather restrainer, take her to the bathroom, and prepare her for the day. Cathy was never permitted any privacy. Now he would have to use that electric shaver on her head and eyebrows, as well as her legs, arms, and abdominal triangle. Only her armpits were spared. It was good that he didn’t have to concern himself with her hirsute hidden haven because, with her hands so bound behind her back, her underarms were virtually inaccessible. John was slightly displeased at the prospect of additional effort. To be sure he could abuse Cathy or express his displeasure in some other cheap way. It was more than enough to watch her vulva moisten as her stroked her body and her breasts come to an involuntary attention.
John’s mind thought about Cathy. She was five-foot-nine, with a slender physique. He weighed her at 116 pounds, the perfect weight for a supermodel. Her breasts were a size B cup, but they were uncommonly firm. She had those dark areolas and labia that redheads often do. She also had green eyes and freckles, looking almost like a leprechaun when she was kneeling and begging. He had never taken the lash to Cathy, but he knew from whelps and bruising that Jan must have from time to time. Cathy was never allowed to discuss her discipline or the reason behind it. John wondered what a girl could do that would warrant punishment. After all, wasn’t she always bound?
“Jan,” John suggested, “Maybe we could visit Don and Cindi. I hear that they have an android caged somewhere out in the badlands of New Mexico. We could leave Cathy caged a while and do some sightseeing. Just slipping out to an occasional movie under the cover of darkness is bumming me out.”
Jan realized that she was spending an inordinate amount of time with Cathy and on line. She was now masturbating frequently and having sex with John less and less. It was almost as if she had become addicted to cybersex at the expense of the real McCoy. Cathy was certainly having multiple orgasms, her privates were always sopping at the end of an on-line session.
The next morning John used an electric shaver to remove all of Cathy’s mane and eyebrows. The shaver would leave a stubble if not carefully used and John wasn’t terribly particular. After all, it was Jan who insisted on the immaculate, hairless, glossy legs, arms, and torso. Jan loved the glistening, pristine, blemish-free gloss of the androids’ artificial flesh. Cathy was left with rough stubble even after shaving. The requirement was that her body suit meshes make perfect electrical contact with her skin. The cosmetics weren’t important since she was virtually represented by a high-definition avatar of super-human attraction and glamour.
It took more time that John was used to. After he finished, the girl begged to be allowed to relieve herself. John had to wait while the collared bald beauty voided her bladder and emptied her bowels. He had to clean her afterwards. Slightly miffed at Jan’s additional tasking, he couldn’t resist being rough with the girl. She accepted the scrubbing stoically. John used a rough, damp cloth over her, everywhere except her underarms. He started with her face and concluded with her anus. It was those last strokes across her pudenda and over her rosette that brought a solitary tear to the girl’s eye.
“Here she is in all her naked, hairless splendor,” John announced to Jan.
Jan locked the chain to Cathy’s collar and removed the belt. Cathy rubbed her wrists that had been too tightly secured this morning.
“Arms over your head, girl,” Jan ordered. “I want to sample your scent.”
“Yes, Mistress,” Cathy replied. John was amazed at the grace she displayed as she elegantly flexed her body and flexuously raised her slender arms. She brought her palms together then separated them, placed the back of one hand to the back of the other to allow maximum exposure of her armpits and raise her teats for inspection and display. It had been weeks since Cathy’s armpits had been washed. The fragrance wasn’t overpowering, but it was distinct and genuine. Cathy blushed at her hirsute display. Jan pressed her nose to Cathy to the amazement of both John and Cathy. Cathy blushed and giggled when Jan’s pink, pointed tongue licked the moist hair growth.
“Me next!” John exclaimed.
“No way,” Jan responded. The scent of Cathy had filled the room. “Isn’t it nice to have the pheromones of the girl throughout the room? It adds a distinct sexuality to the apartment. The smell of cunt, don’t you think?”
“It definitely is the smell of pussy,” John replied. “Let’s get her harnessed up. Today we put the yarmulke on her bald pate? Will she be an Initiate and hack into the Pleasure Fair herself?” John exaggerated, knowing the level of sophistication and cybernetic maturity required.
“Not today,” Jan snarled. “Today she studies the Initiates’ ways and tries out the boundary-value yarmulke. The headpiece will connect her headbrain to the grid and let her deepest emotions and libido flow directly on-line.”
“It may be bullshit,” John volunteered, “but you can’t prove it by me. I always heard those egghead professors tell me that the secrets of the universe are found in boundary-value problems. I never fully appreciated partial differential equations. But I know two who did.”
“Who might that be, Master,” Cathy inquired. She had an education in some of the hard sciences but was hesitant to acknowledge it.
“Theodore Jefferson Kazcynski, the Unabomber, for one,” John divulged, “and Theodore Sterelsky, the murdered who hammered his professor to death for another.”
“All the more reason to use the sentient, projecting yarmulke,” Jan continued. “This theory separated humans for those emotionless droids.”
“They are aggressive mimics,” John remarked. “So intelligent that they may even discover emotions in their mimicry.”
Jan had Cathy lie on the bed. She lubricated tubes and catheters and begin inserting them. John watched with some morbid fascination as Jan slid a particularly wicked looking indwelling device into Cathy’s bladder and injected warm water into the bulb. Jan had learned her art well in night school. She gradually increased the gauge of the tube. Cathy would suffer with the extreme sensation of a burning need to urinate. This was mostly due to the large diameter of the catheter. Later Cathy would have to strain to keep from leaking from her enlarged meatus with distended sphincters. When Jan picked up the long uterine catheter and used her fingertips to locate Cathy’s cervix, John had seen enough. He knew that deep inside the girl an inflatable bulb would induce a variety of sensations, most of which weren’t pleasant.
The girl was finally suited up. Jan contacted an Initiate and arranged a screen name and a spot for her in the underground Pleasure Fair. This time Cathy was to be prone, not supine, and tightly bound, with a blindfold. No doubt there would be leather applied to her sculptured, ivory skinned avatar with resultant stimulation on her physical body. Being placed with her stomach to the bed might also mean that the Master would seek anal sex. The blindfold still afforded the girl some glimpses of her environment.
“We need a New Mexico vacation,” John argued.
Jan watched the view screen. A Master was about to enter with a five-pronged leather whip. The avatar’s armpits were hairless and her hair a dark reddish brunette. The face of the Master was hideously scarred. No wonder he wanted his girl blindfolded. He was a warrior from a dark domain of cyberspace. Cathy would certainly enjoy dark fantasies tonight. So would Jan, she was already damp. Then she looked up at John and realized the situation. “I think that would be a good idea. I’ll see if I can contact Werewolf tonight.”
Cathy writhed and squirmed as the transfer function imitated her whipping. She clenched her fists in their cuffs and tried to pinch her buttocks together. The inflatable dildo retained its position and expanded as it was filled with hot liquid. On the video monitor Jan watched as another Neanderthal gratified himself. He was able to reify his depraved desires and perverse pleasures. Jan had had enough for a while. A vacation was in order.