Broodcomb
Chapter 5
Emily muzzily snuggled up against Claire, rustling the nest of pillows they had painstakingly constructed. “This is...this is all pretty sophisticated.”
Claire cocked an eyebrow at her. She didn’t move away as Emily slowly ground against her, though, which she took as permission to continue.
“The conditioning. There’s lots of layers to it. Pain and pleasure conditioning, the drug regimes, peer pressure, those moments when they argue philosophy, so on and so forth.” Emily waved her open palms around, close to her chest. “I think...this operation’s been around for a while now. Something this...polished, doesn’t happen just once.”
Claire didn’t respond at first. They laid there for a while, watching the sun cast golden rays through the windows of the Tryout Lounge as it set behind the Cascades.
“You know, we should be more angry about this.” Claire suddenly spoke up.
Emily slowly nodded. “Sure.”
“But I think about all they’ve done to us, all I can think off is how cleverly they’ve put it all together. How much happier we are enslaved. There’s none of the—” Claire paused as she groped for words, “—outrage I should be feeling at, uh. Everything. They didn’t ask us for permission? They warped our minds into mindlessly obedient—” She choked off. Emily blinked and raised her head. Claire’s face was flushed as she took a few deep, steadying breathes. “...s-sex slaves.” She finally stammered to a finish.
Emily relaxed again and laid her head on Claire’s chest. “They really have us wrapped around their fingers, don’t they.”
Claire looked down as her breathing slowed, then smiled a little and ran her fingers in Emily’s hair. “I guess so.” Emily sighed as her eyes slowly fluttered closed, and sleep stole up on her.
Distantly, a door squeaked open.
“Hello, Master. Masters, I guess.” Emily blinked and rolled her head up as Claire corrected herself. “How can we serve you?”
“You’re fine. We’re just looking. “ Master explained, as the woman next to him peered at them through horn-rimmed glasses. Emily looked her up and down and decided she was a fan of the hot librarian look she had going. Her figure was tucked into a button up shirt, a sweater vest, and a knee-length dress, all in earthen tones. Her legs sported black pantyhose all the way down to her sensibly proportioned heels. Her brunette hair was tightly tucked into a bun by a blue ribbon. Incongruously, Emily was reminded of a prof she’d had in analytical calculus, a lifetime and a year ago.
Or what he might have looked like if a dyke had wished really hard, she amended.
“In fact...” She broke off from her appraisal and gave him her full, undivided attention. ”...how about this. When I tell you to Forget, you’re going to forget we’re here. You’re going to stop perceiving us entirely, except when I...” He glanced at the woman. “...or her, tells you something. When we tell either of you something, you’re going to do it, and you’re going to think it was your idea all along. When I tell you to remember, you’ll remember that we were here all along and what we told you. Understand?”
“...Sure.” Claire slowly agreed. For her part, Emily simply nodded.
“Good girl.” Emily didn’t miss the way Claire curled up and flushed. She smiled a little more as her pussy clenched. “Forget.”
Claire and Emily laid there, Claire spread out on the pillows, Emily’s head on her chest. She slowly reached down and ran her fingers through Emily’s hair, provoking a low hum of contentment that thrummed pleasantly in her chest. “That was weird.” She opined.
“Yeah.” Emily sleepily agreed. A voice whispered in Emily’s ear. She smiled, suddenly. “You know, there’s another thing we could do here.” She pushed herself up, drawing a confused exclamation before her hands spread Claire’s legs. Then Emily’s head dipped in between her hips, and she began to lick.
Claire moaned appreciatively, a hand reaching down and pulling Emily’s head further in. Then a voice whispered in her ear, and her face went slack. Her eyelids fluttered closed. Her hand slid off Emily’s head and laid next to her hip.
Another whispering voice. Claire grunted, and began to chant. “I am a good Slave. I must obey.” A bolt of arousal shot down Emily’s spine as she watched Claire condition herself like a good Slave.
Another whisper. Claire was closing in on a titanic orgasm now, but as she approached that peak it began to slide away from her. She moaned in frustration and then resumed chanting, her cadence speeding up as her need began driving her into a frenzy.
Another whisper. Suddenly she opened her eyes and sat up. Emily yelped in surprise as strong hands dragged her head up to Claire’s crazed, needy eyes. Then her tongue punched through Emily’s half open lips and began to fence with its counterpart.
Another whisper. Emily returned the favor, and then reached her hands around and drove her fingers into Claire’s dripping cunt. Claire moaned, and then kept chanting into Emily’s lips as she retaliated likewise.
Another whisper. Emily, creeping up to her own orgasm, suddenly moaned with frustration as the peak retreated away. She pistoned her fingers even harder and even deeper, and Claire escalated in kind.
Another whisper. Midway through another frustrated moan, Emily suddenly hyperfocused on Claire’s crazed, pleading eyes. She couldn’t look away. She couldn’t see anything else. They sucked her in, and Claire’s maddened need spilled over and mixed with her own.
Another whisper. Slave began to chant into Claire’s mouth and writhing tongue, the words muffled but intimately familiar to both. She didn’t need to hear the chant to have it running through her mind and conditioning her like it was conditioning Claire. Her pussy clenched around Claire’s pistoning fingers even more than she thought possible, or would think if she was still capable of that.
Another whisper. Slave and Claire jerked and screamed into each other’s mouths as they erupted explosively, splattering the waterproofed covers of the pillows with juices that glittered in the dying sunlight. They fell against each other, mutually supporting each other for a few precious seconds before they slipped sideways and sprawled across the pillows.
They laid there together, gasping for breath, minds wiped blank. Emily’s hand scrambled for Claire’s and squeezed it, and she whimpered as it squeezed back.
Eventually, their gasps faded back to deep, slow breaths. They laid there, holding each other’s hand, watching the juice-stained pillows sparkle as sun rays fell across them.
Another whisper. Emily blinked, and Master was there in front of her, leaning over with mixed pride and concern while the woman looked on, a nakedly stunned, needful look on her face.
“Uh...” Emily’s swimming, disoriented mind was lost for a moment. “Hi?” She managed, inanely.
“You OK?” Master asked. The woman put her hand over her mouth and looked out the window.
“I’m, uh, I’m fine. “ Emily slowly smiled up at him before glancing at Claire. “I dunno about her, though. You, uh, you gave her quite the mind-whammy.” Claire stared blankly at nothing in particular, blinking slowly and breathing shallowly.
The woman shook herself and looked back at them. “So, uh, you mentioned they’re together?”
“They come as a package,” Master explained to her, while Emily smiled contently at Claire’s slowly refocusing eyes. “ Good friends before capture, and they bonded hard during their first in-house assignment. The programming might break if we separate them—safer for everyone to keep them together.”
The woman rubbed her chin. Then she nodded. “I’ll take them. Both of them.”
Master smiled, and then turned back to Emily and Claire. “Get dressed and head over to the front desk. We’ll get back to you.“
“Yes, Master.” Their fingers let go as they slowly, shakily stood up, but then intertwined again as they walked, hand in hand, toward the service exit.
“Ms. Wetterlund, if we could head to my office we can arrange—“ His voice cut off abruptly as Claire shut the door behind her.
“We never did talk about what sort of relationship we wanted.” It had been at least an hour later, and the sun had fully set behind the mountains, before Claire broke their collective silence.
They’d dressed in what they thought would be appropriate for the occasion before heading down to the front lobby, where they had snagged a seat from one of the couches opposite the staircase. Of course, what they’d thought was appropriate for the occasion...well, neither of them would have been caught dead with it a year ago, Emily briefly reflected as she looked up from adjusting her miniskirt. “I don’t think we’re exactly in a position to make life choices like that.”
Claire shivered, and not entirely because she’d opted for a white, sheer babydoll more suited for showing her body off than keeping out the chill of the AC. “Maybe? I just—” She choked on her words a moment, swallowed, and started again. “I just don’t want to feel like you were forced into...” She waved at herself. “...this. Even if—” She stopped, hunched over slightly and tensed up.
“It’s OK, Claire.” Emily took one of Claire’s hands in her own and squeezed it. “Really.”
Slowly, Claire relaxed back into the couch, leaning her head back on the rests. “It’s all sorts of fucked up, though, isn’t it? This whole...” She grasped at the empty air, as if fishing for words. Eventually, she gave up and let her arm fall back down. “I’m not crazy for thinking that, right?”
“You’re not crazy.” Emily shrugged, rustling her blouse and the sweater vest over it. “C’est la vie?”
Claire squinted. “C’uh...what now?”
Emily pondered giving her the exact translation, then discarded that idea in favor of abbreviating it. “Shit happens.”
They sat there for a while in a heavy, pregnant silence, until Master’s voice echoed ineligibly out through the staircase doors. “That’s probably them.” Claire noted as she rose to her feet, and Emily followed her lead.
“—honestly thought a criminal enterprise organization—no offense meant—” The woman’s voice attempted to assure Master as muffled footsteps descended the stairs.
“—None taken—”
“—honestly thought there wouldn’t be so much paperwork. Secrecy and all that?”
“Internal bookkeeping.” Master rounded the last bend and came into view.“We’re sorta past the point where we can manage everything on the spoken word.”
“Point. I—oh.” The woman stopped as she reached the foot of the stairs. “Uh, hello.” Emily waved back as they walked up to them.
“Emily, Claire, this is...Jane Wetterlund? Is that right?“ Master looked up quizzically. The woman nodded, a little forcibly. “She’s your new Master. Understand?”
Slave and Claire smiled and nodded to him, and then turned to Master. “Hello, M—“ They stumbled over each other, stopped, and blushed again as they stared at each other. Then Claire motioned to Emily, who nodded and turned to Master. “Hello, Master. How can we serve you?”
Master mouthed an amazed exclamation, then shook herself. “Well, if you don’t mind, Mr. Franklin, I’d like to take them home. And then, maybe—” She blushed again and turned away.
He nodded, offered his hand. “Of course, whatever you want. They’re all yours now.” They shook on it.
“Uh. Emily, Claire?” They perked up. “I have a limo in the front parking lot. Please, follow me.” They walked up to the glass doors of the lobby, where Master pushed the door open and held it for them. “Here.”
“Thank you, Master.” Emily smiled beatifically at Master as she hung off Claire’s arm. Master’s blush intensified, somehow, and Emily suppressed a giggle as they stepped out into the chill of the night.
Mr. Franklin waved them off. “Have a good night, Ms. Wetterlund.”
“Thanks, goodnight.” Master let the door swing closed. She walked up to them, then muttered something self-derogatory and hurried to a limousine waiting by the curb, whipping out a set of keys and pulling the passenger door open.
Emily began, “You know, you don’t have to—“
“Get in!” Master snapped. “You’ll catch your death out here.” They hurriedly piled in. Somehow, Master ended up in the middle seat, with Claire towering over her on her right and Emily sitting by her left.
“Ma’am?” The driver inquired from the front cab, through a speaker grill embedded in the partition.
“Home, please.” Master fumbled with her belt buckle, snapped it closed. “And mute the audio feed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The limo peeled away from the curb. Master reached up and slid a cover over the partition window, then fell back into the seat.
A pregnant silence settled over the cab. Claire had, after a brief inspection of the inside, settled for watching the road roll by. Master was sitting a little hunched over, hands clasped in her lap. Emily could see her glancing at herself, or at Claire, and then shying away again. Could break the ice...
She looked at Master again. The woman was staring down at her high heels, lost in thought. She glanced up at Emily, then blushed and hurriedly looked away.
...No. Best to let her get used to us in her own time. She settled for examining the inside of the cab, instead.
The first impression she got was ‘elegance’. There wasn’t a lot of decoration or visible gadgetry, but the passenger cab was surprisingly spacious despite hosting three fully-grown women side by side. Everything was either a light sandy tan color, or a deep, dark red.
And the seats were very comfy.
As the limo merged onto the interstate, half an hour later, Master sat up a little, and finally broke the silence. “So, you two were friends?” She asked, quietly.
“Lovers, now.” Emily explained bluntly. Claire gazed out the window, watching the lampposts rush by. The amber glow of roadway lights flashed across her figure, offering up tantalizing glimpses of bare cleavage and the sheer-coated curves of her midriff. Emily took a deep breath, and pulled her attention away. “I was straight before I got processed. She was in love with me. It works out now, Master.“
“Please, it’s—it’s Jane.” Master hastily corrected. Then she blinked. “So, wait. You got turned into a lesbian?”
“Bisexual.” Emily smiled at her. “And very horny.” She ground her legs together suggestively. Master—Jane!—blinked and averted her eyes.
“So, uh.” Emily leaned in. “If you could...Can you, ah, do me? Right now?”
Emily smiled. “Of course we can!” She reached over and pulled Jane’s dress up, then snaked her hand under it. Jane almost jumped out of her seat, but after a tense moment relaxed and kept her hands at her sides, so she started stroking her pussy through the lingerie underneath. Claire, for her part, groped Jane’s breast through the jacket and leaned in to kiss her.
Jane lightly kissed Claire back, but drew back and left Claire’s tongue hanging in mid-air. Claire froze, unsure, but then moaned as Master brushed her nightie aside, exposing a nipple, and tentatively began to lick it.
Behind her, Emily smiled a little wider, and a little toothier.
Then she gasped as fingers brushed against her legs and fumbled under her skirt. She grabbed the questing hand and guided it into her panties, and then moaned as a middle finger plunged in and wiggled against her folds. Claire moaned in counterpart as Master’s other hand reached up and kneaded the tit she wasn’t sucking, sending droplets of milk oozing down onto the back of her hand.
Claire came first, moaning and squirting milk into Master’s greedily sucking mouth. Then Jane grunted into her breast and fell back with a gasp as juices squirted over Emily’s hand. She keened with need as Master’s finger fell limply out of her dripping pussy. She needed that orgasm! She plunged her own fingers into it in desperation.
Then Claire leaned over across Jane’s lap, staining her dress with breast milk, and cupped her hand over Emily’s pussy. Emily moaned as two thick fingers joined her own, penetrating even deeper than she could do alone, and then she arched her back and wiggled, choking back a scream as she finally came.
They were still basking in the afterglow when the limo pulled into a driveway. The right passenger door swung open. “We’re here, miss—Uh.” Emily drowsily smiled up at the limo driver, whose puzzled look was more endearing than it should have been on a middle-aged man.
Master suddenly shook her head. “Um. Yes. Alright.” She patted Claire’s back, who unbuckled herself and swung her legs out the door. The driver blinked and backed away as she stepped out without ceremony, half naked in the stretched remains of her nightie. Jane followed her out, her clothes rumpled but still, at least outwardly, decent. “Did my secretary pay you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He carefully looked Claire up and down, then turned back to Jane as Emily crawled to the door. “Uh...do you mind if I ask—”
Master chopped him off. “I do mind, as a matter of fact.” She glanced at Claire, who had wrapped an arm over one breast where milk had soaked the silk translucent, then at Emily as she clambered out. “Emily, Claire, this way..”
“Yes, Master.” They intoned simultaneously. They blinked and stared at each other.
Emily snickered. Then they were both laughing.
Someone coughed. Emily hurriedly sobered up. “Oh! Um.” The driver held his fist to his lips. “Come on.” Her hand wrapped around Claire’s.
They walked.