Tower of Babylon Pt. 03

At least they didn't have horse drawn buggies and kept clean shaven faces, Matt mused.

Ford must have been someone in a higher class, as no other vehicle on the current road had such outlandish decoration. In fact, the other drivers and pedestrians seemed normal for the most part. Almost all the women wore veils and long robes, while a smattering were either nude or wore outfits accenting their sexual features. It was clear that only the most beautiful were on display.

Ford smirked, "All that is pure is for the Lord to see; all that is corrupted shall hide from His sight."

Okano refrained, "Such is the way, and it is good." Despite her head being obscured, the quiet electric motor and the light traffic made it possible to hear her. Silently, Bee thanked Rebecca for taking the more difficult position. There was no way she had the stamina to take the strain and her own legs were feeling pretty cramped as it was. She could feel the sweat collecting on the parts where they touched. Bee absently lapped up the drops from her own forehead that had dribbled onto Okano. She could use a drink although the wind from their motion helped mitigate the discomfort.

Ford said, "She knows her scripture. A pity that she left the fold. I can offer a good price...redemption is always offered."

"She's not mine to sell," Matt replied sharply. His head swiveled, looking at the acres of green surrounding the sprawling parkway. There was a drought, as always, but the Protectorate didn't seem to care.

Ford ignored the barely veiled disapproval in his guests tone. "It will be a long drive to the estate. I suggest we stop for refreshments."

He turned off the main parkway onto a smaller side street. It was a rustic market district of small shops on either side. There was no traffic and few pedestrians yet the frontage appeared well-kept and upscale, especially in contrast to the Buffer's bazaars. Ford stopped in front of a corner café that had patrons sitting at tables under umbrellas on the front walk.

Although discreet, it was clear they had taken notice of the new arrivals.

Leaving the women attached to the cart, Matt followed Ford into the shop. Bee couldn't tell if he was worried about them. Her head hurt from the glaring sun.

"What a great trip," she groused. "I think I get why you escaped this place. It was fun at first, but this could get old fast. How are you doing down there, about to burst a blood vessel?"

"Shush," came the muffled reply. "You must keep up appearances or lose social merit points. A written sanction is also possible."

"Fine, fine. We're not staying anyways, so what good does is this merit business? We're not climbing the social ladder here. I do this all day back in the Enclave, nothing new but it's a waste-"she yelped when Okano bit a sensitive part of her thigh.

"Merit will accrue to our master, which will aid in his negotiations. You were competent in the Enclave, so just pretend you're doing your job as normal. This is a good time to practice, make sure to enjoy it." Okano began teasing her with her mouth.

Despite herself, Bee decided to give into the moment and dived into the other woman's muff trying to reach as many parts as possible with her tongue. It was tough to reach due to the binding but she made a good show of dining on Okano's box. Face flushing a bit, she asked, "Fine, but I don't get the point. No one is watching."

"It may seem that way, but trust me, everything is seen."

"Sure, sure, I got that the last time I asked."

A busboy from the café stepped out in his apron. After setting up some shade, he brought a bucket and a cloth which he used to wipe down Gretchen. After a minute he did the same for the two still hanging from the rack. It felt heavenly as the cool water dribbled down her face and chest. Bee bucked on Okano's face as the woman below lapped up both the water and her own excretions.

"How do you like that, kiddo?" she grinned at the red-faced busboy. She preferred the direct feedback to Okano's invisible watcher. "I kind of think I understand you, Rebecca."

A few minutes later the busboy returned, this time to ratchet the frame so Bee was almost on her back. He told them, "A treat from the master." He inserted a frozen confection into each of their cunts and angled them so they could lick each other for refreshment.

It was pretty good, though she wondered how the hood girl was faring.

Suddenly, giddiness at the absurdity of it all made her almost burst out in laughter but she managed to hold it in. She wouldn't want to offend any religious sensibility after all.

Inside, Ford and Matt sat at a small round table sipping some iced beverages and tasting a sampler of finger sized treats. It was nothing amazing and the service was fairly standard. The only woman in the establishment was the young cashier who sat behind the counter and wore a full robe and a veil to cover the acne on her face.

When Matt had made a motion to pay with his credit chip, Ford shook his head, "It's on me. My family owns the shops on this street. It's modest but we're a small house of minor commerce and petty services."

"Can we bring the girls inside? The heat might not be good for them."

Ford cocked his head, "I heard it was different outside the wall, but you keep people as pets from what I hear."

"They're not property, legally speaking. It's kind of a game. And even if they are, they should be taken care of...properly." Matt emphasized the word the people here seemed to like to throw around.

"Well, I won't question the oddity of that distinction. Point taken: they will be given a rest break in due course. However, it is important not to coddle them, but to lead with a firm hand. The Minister is a proponent of it."

"When do we meet him?" Matt blurted. He knew he was blowing it, but the man was getting on his nerves as was probably intended.

As if adding up some points in an invisible game, Ford's smile widened, "We do things in their proper order here." He emphatically took a slow sip from his glass like someone on a leisurely vacation with the whole day to spare.

Matt wanted to scream, but he clenched his teeth instead.

Ford snapped a finger. From the back, a heavy breasted woman appeared wearing only a French apron. She curtseyed and used a hand to point to her chest, "Cream in this one, sweetener in the other."

Ford brought up his cup to her right tit and squeezed clear sugar syrup into his glass.

"I thought that wasn't allowed?" Matt queried.

"We have a waiver, plus it's not biogenetic and the implant isn't classed as a cybernetic modification. Of course, the bi-layer thermal cladding to keep the product cool is pretty advanced. We bought the design from the Monterey Polity, so a cultural exchange." Ford's teeth seemed to glisten. "Care for some milk?"

"I'm good," Matt slid back in his chair, resigned to the fact that the man was in no hurry. This became even more evident when they took a long detour to drop off Gretchen, who turned out to be one of Ford's wives.

After unbinding her, he kissed the woman, patted her on the rear and sent her on her way off, "I'll be back later. Have Cathy in the entryway for me."

"Will do," she held up a hand without turning around. She wobbled a bit as she stretched out the kinks from her prostration but she seemed no worse for wear. Ford's home, if that's what it was, appeared to be a modest townhouse in a block of cookie-cutter buildings with identical, manicured, lawns.

As if sensing the question in Matt's mind, he explained, "This is where Gretchen stays in the city. The families have estates further out. That's where we are headed next. One of your girls can go up front if you want."

Matt hesitated, and then announced, "Rebecca can come up here."

Bee pouted as she was left alone to stare at the road behind them. Okano had warned her not to nod off, but her eyes quickly became droopy. At least her legs were no longer tightly bound, although the pose was no less humiliating.

To Matt's surprise, Ford opened up a conversation with Okano after she was strapped to the hood, "I understand you emigrated, from which household? Okano isn't a family name around here."

"I was a mistress in the Evans homestead. Adopted as a refugee, so I don't know my original heritage. I was Rebecca Flores Evans back then. The current Mr. Evans and sole heir allowed me to buy out my papers and I just picked a random name from a similar blood-line."

"He let you go, after the expense poured into you?"

"He was...is a good man," Okano said wistfully. "I loved him with a pure heart. Evans senior didn't approve of the relationship, so it had to wait until he passed."

Matt was a bit thunderstruck, fascinated about Okano's history. She'd never revealed any of this back in the Enclave and had kept a professional distance. Now, she was an open book, or so it seemed.

Ford pressed as he drove, "If you loved him, why did you leave him? Certainly not to be free woman, I believe you trade your flesh for coin out there now."

"It's the best way to make a living, especially with these assets given to me," she stared past them as she spoke. "I believe God watches us, wherever we are and whatever we do. I do it as penance, and serve with this body for His Grace."

"You're a true believer, amazing!" Ford seemed genuinely pleased, the first break in his reptilian façade. "But you didn't answer my question..."

"We wanted to get married, but the other wives vetoed it. I couldn't stay after that, it was too painful," Okano's eyes misted and it was clear she was done answering questions.

"That's weak. I wouldn't have stood for that," Ford shook his head in disgust.

"But that's why I loved him," she snapped back, clearly implying that she'd never offer that to him, and probably not Matt either, although she glanced at him apologetically. "Excuse me for my outburst, sir."

Ford's face turned cold as stone and he stared forward without continuing the conversation.

Matt himself was puzzled as to what he should feel. He still desired her, wanted her to look at him the way she was looking at her memory of the other man, but he wondered if that wasn't just something he had taught himself to want. He realized that he had no idea what he wanted, just that there was an itch in his heart that nothing seemed to scratch. Maybe this place had something to teach him, he thought.

The rest of the trip only offered silence as each person settled into their thoughts.

The road twisted outside of the city into the sparsely populated foothills. Their guide pointed out the names of the various households that owned the tenant fields, each essentially a fiefdom. Traffic was even lighter out here except for the occasional farmhand or worker riding along on an agricultural vehicle. Matt even spotted someone on horseback in the distance who stopped momentarily to stare back. It appeared to be a woman wearing a wide hat and elaborate clothes as if she was cosplaying the Victorian era.

On their own property, the adherence to the comportment laws were evidently quite varied, Matt thought. He turned back to check on Bee, but it appeared she had fallen asleep as her head flopped uncomfortably on one shoulder.

Okano's backside was well bronzed by the time they neared their destination.

The area was thickly wooded as the electric cart approached the metal gate. At first, it seemed abandoned with just the stone pillars supporting the gate, the low stone wall extending in both directions into the quiet forest, and the winding road could be seen through the vertical bars of the gate continuing into the deeper woods.

However, two men in nondescript work clothes stepped out from the shadows, nodded at Ford, and manually swung open the gate. It was hinged on both sides and clasped in the middle, appearing to be made of wrought iron although that was probably not the case. Matt hoped the house wasn't some Bavarian castle though he didn't know much about the tastes of Minister Weaver, the owner of the estate. Apparently he was one of the first founding families, whatever that implied in terms of both wealth and power in the Protectorate.

He suspected that there were eyes on them at all times, backed up by military grade defenses that were hidden from view. It would be gauche to put all that on display like they did to intimidate the rabble out in the Buffer. Their ferocity and effectiveness in the battlefield was well known, as they continually fought a series of brush wars all across the country. They suppressed the information, but even Matt had heard of insurrectionist activity so there was a distant, but real, threat.

Violence didn't scare him, he'd seen his share in the barrios of his home, but Matt had hoped to leave that behind.

Otherwise, the drive to the estate was pleasant, especially now that the sun was broken up by the forest canopy. Ford hummed to himself, one hand on the wheel. "When we arrive, I could use a constitutional. You don't mind do you?" He nodded toward Okano.

"I told you, she doesn't belong to me," Matt replied. He caught Okano's look. "But sure, just send her in when you're done."

The road finally turned into a driveway around a front lawn that was as big as a football field. Gardeners glanced up from their work. The mansion itself wasn't too ostentatious, about three stories with hand-cut stone steps leading up to the entryway. Matt wasn't too impressed until he realized later that this entire building was just another gate in their journey to the center of this world.

Matt also knew about their penchant for living sculptures but he was soon to be presented with even more examples of the "art" that populated the estate. A man servant came down to assist, unbuckling Bee from the frame as Ford stepped around to take his constitutional, unzipping his fly as he walked. Okano grunted as he penetrated her.

"They will show you to your quarters. You have a few hours until the appointment, so please avail yourself of the accommodations. I hope you have a pleasant stay. Your return trip is scheduled in two days, I will return at that time." He turned his head back to focus on this fucking. Okano stared off into the distance with a blank expression, although she gave the proper moans as required.

Matt decided at that moment that he could never live in such a contrived place and would be glad to be out of it as soon as this ridiculous charade was done.

Matt gave the man a curt nod and pulled the drowsy Bee up the stairs as he followed the servant to the door. On each side he noticed the first statuary, of sorts: the busts of two women who seemed embedded into the wall. Their heads were marble but their breasts were real, and quite warm, when he reached out to grasp one at the prompting of the servant. Somewhere inside, a doorbell chimed. He only then noticed that they were not alone, below resembling reversed Sphinxes, knelt two more women whose upper torsos disappeared into the façade. Their bodies were powdered to look like stone.

He wondered if they were permanent fixtures. No, they must have anticipated his arrival and prepared such a display to impress him, he thought. The Enclave had similar decorations but he quickly learned that the scale and magnitude of the ones here were on a different level. It was as if the owner needed to upstage any and all before him as a modern day Ozymandius.

The hall beyond the door had too many examples to account than his senses could enumerate. Bee looked around, mouth agape at the riches, both material and of flesh. It was a palace that would be the envy of any ancient emperor.

There were aquariums lining one hall, populated by schools of exotic fish as well as erotic swimmers. There were golden statues that were revealed to be women in body paint. Half-naked maids paused to bow toward the guests as they passed. Matt wondered what they did all day: did they just wander around maintaining the place for the occasional visitor? There wasn't a single person who appeared to be an actual member of the household other than the staff.

The man servant guided through the mansion to the other side and down another set of steps into a vast arboretum. As they continued, Bee craned her neck to spot all the artwork scattered amidst the topiary. Some lay in shallow pools, others erupted from the earth, others were epic statuary posed in classical motifs, and yet more hidden like Easter eggs to be discovered in the trees, hedges, and even walkways.

Bee almost stepped on the face of a girl embedded into the walkway. She spotted a male servant copulating with a bench.

The man servant turned to them, "If you wish to..."

Matt shook his head. He said to Bee, "We can look around more later. We'll be here a couple days."

"This place is crazy. Maybe you should take a break. We haven't fucked since last night and you want to keep a rhythm up or you'll be out of shape. You don't want another incident, like with the receptionist."

"Hush, they can hear us!" he snapped. Bee clammed her mouth shut, remembering her place but she kept rolling her eyes at his crotch. He couldn't help but crack a smile. He put his arm around her, "All right, let's stop for a bit. You know the way to man's dick."

"Yay," she clapped her hands like a seal, breasts bouncing. She grabbed the man servant by his codpiece and dragged them both to a marble bench where a lovely woman lay supine on one side. They had a quick foursome right there. Matt had to focus to keep up with the man servant who was an experienced cocksman.

"Come on, you can beat this guy," Bee egged on as they switched turns on her and the bench girl. Matt stared down into her eyes, "I hope we weren't interrupting your tanning."

"Not at all, it's the most excitement I've had all week," she replied before taking the man servants cock from Bee's pussy and stuffing it into her mouth. Matt tapped out first, blasting a load into Bee's crotch which the other girl ate out. The man servant still had a ton of steam, thrusting with abandon.

Matt wandered to a fountain to wash himself. He was still surprised that the figure in the middle was an actual woman who leaned down to help him wash his junk.

"If I hadn't come by today, would you still be here?" He asked incredulously.

She almost seemed annoyed that he was talking to her and didn't respond. The bench girl came by to rinse the cum from her golden locks.

She said, "We take shifts. Most people don't talk with us though, so they're not used to it."

"But you're talking to me."

"I'm new, just getting trained."

Matt hadn't gotten a good look at her until now. She was actually quite stunning even at the standards of this place. She sensed his renewed interest and beckoned the fountain girl to help her raise his pole again.

Railing her once more, missionary with her on her back on the wide rim of the fountain's marble edge, he asked, "Am I your first visitor then?"

"Hm, maybe," she put a finger on her chin. "Let me try to remember..."

She never got to answer as Bee bounded up, splashing in the pool to freshen up, and promptly planted her butt onto the woman's face. She leaned forward, "Hey, you're taking me to the top, mister, not some side wench."

He spread out his hands and leaned down to kiss her, "Of course, my filthy lady."

To be continued...