Fortunately nobody in the salon reacted to him calling me, a cattle, by its name.

To go back to the hotel, we took a taxi, my miniskirt riding up as I was got in, flashing my bare pussy to the world... but I didn't care so much at this point.

There was a fleeting moment in the car, where John was waiting for me to tell our destination to the driver.
He was looking at me, expecting me to take charge of the situation like I always did. I looked at him, with a surprised, happy, vacant expression, my tongue stupidly jutting out my surgically enhanced lips as I was rubbing the tip of it on my chin, trying to ease the scratchy feeling from the cream. Instead of the feminine leader he used to see when looking at me, he was now sitting next to some retarded sex doll wearing too much makeup. Not someone that should be in charge of anything, but some *thing* that was waiting for you to grab and facefuck violently.

So he gave the address to the driver himself, and we arrived at a hotel similar to any 4 stars hotel in the planet.

"Welcome. Under what name was your booking?"

Again, John had the reflex to turn toward me so I could answer but, no! His proactive boss still wasn't here! What was standing instead, half naked, in high heels, was just some useless mouth agape bimbo he was in charge of. I looked at him dumbly and watched him take charge.

"So... Let me see... Ah... A room for you... and a room for your cattle. Quite unusual, to have 2 separate rooms. Is that right?
-Yes. Two rooms.
-Alright. You luggage is already in your respective rooms. Two girls are waiting for you, provided free of charge by our government. Here are the keys, this one for you, this one for her. Enjoy your stay."

John and I hadn't exchanged a word since the beauty salon. I guess the situation had been too awkward for him, and, well, I couldn't speak anyway. We rode the elevator in silence. I watched John open his door and opened mine; just next to his. With a head nod, we disappeared into each of our own rooms.

At least. A normal place. With a door that locked. With no camera (hopefully!), a bed with sheets and pillows, a proper bathroom, and my luggage! I think I cried with joy.

The first thing I did was to try to remove my high heels.
The heels they had given me when I left the quarantine had almost no platform: quite steep, but it could have been worse. For what I saw, it was quite unusual for cattle to wear heels that low (I would understand later *why* they gave me these heels).
Still, I removed the strap of my right sandal, threw it and watched it bounce away with satisfaction.

My pleasure was short lived. As soon as my foot made contact with the floor, setting my feet into a normal angle, a sharp pain irradiated from my calve. I screamed, moved my feet back up immediately, my whole body wobbling, supported only by the left high heel. I would have fallen if I hadn't been near a wall. Hands against the wall, I tried again to put my right foot down, slowly. The pain came back. I moved my foot up again and stood there on my left foot still for a few seconds, like some pink high heeled flamingo, and thought for a few seconds, my tongue still rubbing my chin. Shit. The cream. Not the one on my chin - the cream this woman in the quarantine was applying on my calves before heels training. I thought its purpose was to help me walk in heels but it was more nefarious than that: it had shrunk my Achilles tendons. While I was walking in heels for hours on the treadmill during the quarantine, the cream was molding my feet, forcing them into a permanent arch suited for Weltbeltein footwear. I never realized it because I never removed my heels until now, but the cream had done its job: my tendons had shortened, my feet refused to go flat. I couldn’t stand without heels anymore.

I needed to wear heels, whether I wanted them or not.

I crawled to the bed, grabbing on the way the shoe I just discarded. It was only some cream, not surgery, I was pretty sure it was something that would reverse after some time. But I was pissed off to have to submit to Weltbeltein's laws even in my private time.

But! No! I didn't have to wear their clothes, at least.
I opened my suitcase, found with great pleasure my trusty pyjama bottom and top I wore instead of this ridiculous "bimbo" t-shirt and white miniskirt. Ok. A sense of normality was returning to me. In ridiculous high heels, yes, but in my trusty PJ!

With this small victory, I mustered the courage to see up close in a mirror what they had done to me. Indeed, my face was really frozen, the muscles of my forehead barely twitching when I tried to use them. The mouth was the most impressive. Pinching one swollen lip between two fingers, I could really feel the implant inside the skin. They were turning me into some plastic doll, from the inside.

Someone knocked.

"Claire? They brought... food if you want.", said John through the door.

Fucking yes! I was starving. I opened my door, followed him into his room. Pretty similar to mine, with two blonde women kneeling on the floor, looking at me, their enormous, fake, round breasts exposed. But I was a lot more interested in what was next to them. Mush. My precious, delicious mush.

"I can share some of my normal food if you..." I shook my head no as I got into position next to the 2 girls, facing the third bowl of mush.

John sighed, moved in front of us. He slapped the first girl. I could tell it wasn't very hard. She immediately dove into the mush. He slapped the second girl. Then, he looked at me, his hand raised.

"Are you sure?"

I nodded yes, encouraging him, my tongue still out like some puppy.

He gave me a disappointing slap, but enough to trigger me, enough to give me the motivation to put my face into the bowl and eat what I was craving. I slid a hand under the elastic band of my pants to stimulate my dripping wet sex while I was eating, soiling my PJ with my fluids in the process. Oh well.

My bowl finished, I stood up (struggling like a young deer to get up) then returned to my room. As I left John's, I saw him welcoming the 2 women in his bed. No doubt he would have an eventful night. I hoped he could get up tomorrow because I needed him in top form for the business meeting was supposed to take place.

In my room, I tried to work a bit on my laptop. I sent a message to John with detailed instructions about the meeting: it was imperative, we couldn't fail, we HAD to acquire Weltbeltein's tech by any means necessary. This humiliating trip better be worth it. I insisted I was counting on him, tried to give him detailed, step-by-step instructions on how to negotiate the deal. It was a struggle to type with my long fake nails but I pushed through, getting a sense of normality back, being in charge, bossing him around.

Then, I went back to the bed, switched on the TV and rubbed myself to sleep watching some of the misogynistic Weltbeltein's porn I'd grow to appreciate.

The next morning, no more tingle on my chin. I showered (standing awkwardly on the balls of my feet to avoid the Achilles tendon pain), then had mushy breakfast with the girls (yes, kneeling, with the now traditional slap and masturbation).

They also helped me get ready for the day.
"You're very lucky nobody saw you in the hallway. You shouldn't dress in pants and top like that, even just to go from your room to this one."

They were going to give me new clothes, so they had me naked while they were doing my makeup. My face was a lot less swollen and bruised. The tattooed makeup was pretty impressive. Even fresh from the shower it really looked like I had proper mascara and eyeshadow. But it was the bare minimum for the country, a last resort makeup that could still get me in trouble with the law, so the girls still had to cover my face in thick layers of makeup.

"Now, close your eyes. Move this way."

I felt them touching my nipples and zeroing down in on my clit. Opening my eyes, I saw they both had gloves, with residue of a glowing, neon blue cream. A tingling feeling was creeping up, like an intense, itchy mosquito bite, radiating simultaneously from my breasts and my pussy.

I wanted to scream "WHAT DID YOU DO?" but I could only open my mouth silently.

One of them smiled at me: "You know this cream, right? It's the same you had on your chin yesterday. It's usually used for these areas, not for the chin. It will keep you busy and happy while your owner has his meeting."

"Are you ready?", said John from the other side of the room. "We need to leave soon.
-She needs to be cuffed and collared.", said one of the girls.
"Really? Why?
-It's good manner in Weltbeltein to restrain cattle during business interview.", she shrugged.

They covered me with two bands of stretchy fabric, that looked more like wide belts than proper clothing - a micro pink tube top with SLUT written in blue, an equally pink micro-mini-skirt for the bottom- and tied my hand in my back. A leather collar, a chain handed to John, and we were out.

John was holding the leash and I tried to follow as best as I could. I couldn't protest anyway. Klick, klick, klick, klick... I focused only on putting one foot after the other, leaving John to do the navigation.

We arrived to another taxi. Hard to climb in, hand behind my back, leashed, wearing high heels.

The tingling feeling was getting more and more intense, particularly in my crotch but was also very annoying on each of my nipples. I wiggled a bit, pressing against the backseat, hurting my bound arm in the process, trying to get my small tube top to rub across my chest with limited success.

John saw me squirming in my seat, but he didn't know about the itchy cream. I was desperate, in agony, craving to be released from my bonds and get a chance to scratch the itches. But my frozen face were preventing me from showing any sign of distress. He just saw a dumb looking slut, with vacant eyes and a slight smile making weird movements. He looked away.

The car started and John asked me: "So, err, well... It's the big day today Claire. Do... do you want us to review the main points?"

I nodded yes, and my assistant started laying out his interview plan.

It was hard to focus on what he was saying. I found out that squeezing my thighs would relieve the itch between my legs a bit. Itch. Squeeze. Pleasure. Itch. Squeeze. Pleasure.

".....what do you think?"

I nodded, oblivious to what he was explaining, lost in my little simple world. A world of itch, squeeze, pleasure. Rubbing my bare pussy back on forth with my ass on the seat. Yes. Itch. Squeeze. Rub. Rub. Pleasure. Itch. Squeeze. Pleasure. Yes. Oh yes. It was feeling so good.

"Uhh.. Are you coming?"

I had lost track of time. We were already parked, he was out of the car. The door on my side was already open but I didn't even notice. How long was he here, watching me pleasuring myself on the leather of the car? He helped me get out putting his hands below my armpits. This was the business district, similar to all other business districts in big towns. Not many cattle here, mostly businessmen and even some (rare) businesswomen walking around.
My micro-skirt had totally raised up my hips. Here, I stood like a sore thumb, with my cattle tag, hand secured behind my back, exposing my bare ass and pussy to the world.

"Uh... Maybe you should cover yourself...", said John, moving his gaze away, forgetting my hands were bound. I couldn't speak so I tugged on the leash to make him understand I couldn't. Finally, he got the message and unrolled the micro skirt himself to cover my pussy and my ass as much as possible (not much).

We walked into the building's lobby. Very fancy, with black marble floor. Men and women -women, not cattles- were sitting on comfortable chairs, chatting, drinking coffee. An elegant dressed receptionist, female citizen for sure, was behind the counter, looking at her computer. A normal scene.
And me, half naked, in a pink micro miniskirt displaying plenty of my ass crack and cheeks, strutting in heels, leashed to John.

He exchanged some words with the receptionist while I stayed behind, trying to squeeze my thighs again, to get relief from the itch. If only I could get my finger down here... oh yes. It felt so good to squeeze my thighs. I didn't even realize I was basically pleasuring myself in public. Suddenly, he tugged on my leash, toward the elevator and I followed, trying again to rub my thighs while walking.

"What's going on with you?", he finally asked when we were inside the elevator. "Do you want to wait for me back to the hotel?"

It was forbidden by Weltbeltein's laws for me to move around by myself so I nodded no.

"Are you really up for this?"

I nodded yes. I was a just some kind of pet anyway. I'll just wait in a corner (squeezing my thighs), silently, and let him handle everything. I could do that.
In the elevator's mirror I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Who was that prostitute, that tramp, that slut leashed, almost naked, this dumb face covered in tarty makeup, mouth frozen in a perfect enhanced kiss, this queen of bimbos crowned with platinum blonde hair? That was me. I couldn't believe it. I didn't believe it.

The elevator opened its door to a floor with a thick blue carpet, beige wall, potted plants. On our right, a secretary opened the glass door for us, and guided us through an open floor. There was a handful of workers there, dressed in shirt or even business suit. They mostly ignored us. She invited us to enter a private office.

"Ah! Finally!", someone exclaimed. Vuskvangher. One of Weltbeltein most influential tech guy. The office was big, bigger than our hotel room. He was an intense man in his fifty, sharply dressed, with a mischievous, provocative grin.
"Let's sit here John."

He got up from his desk, two naked woman crawling on each side. I was relieved to see some other cattle, the first ones since I entered the business district. One was the typical platinum blonde type, the other was an exotic brunette. Both had of course extremely enhanced breasts and buttocks, perfect makeup and a blissful expression.

I stayed up behind John, letting him and Vuskvangher discuss business in the lounge space of the office.

"So, there is this product we're making and we now want to export..."

I was too focused on the tingling sensations coming from my nipples and crotch, squeezing my thighs, trying to frig myself. Yes. Yes.

"Yes, she could be a subject. This is Claire, right? What a change... for the better." I opened my eyes, seeing the tech mogul standing in front of me. The last time he saw me was during some party. We exchanged some banters, I though we established a good rapport that would help me make business with him. I was a strong willed, smart brunette then. Now, just a vacant platinum slut.

"Did you enjoy your cattle already, John?
-Enjoy?
-Yes... You know... Did you enjoy her.
-Ah... no... I wouldn't...
-Hmmm? Don't tell me you didn't fuck any cattle?!
-Yes... I did...
-So... why not this one?", the businessman said, touching my cheeks.
"I mean... The others asked for it.
-She's also asking for it. Look."

He moved his hand down, just in front of my crotch, his middle finger pointed outward, in a slight hook. Oh, yes. He moved it closer, almost touching me. John watched with rapt fascination.
I couldn't help myself. I moved my hips forward, rubbing my bare, wet pussy lips on his hand. YES. I guess I would've moan if I could, eye rolled, this is what I wanted, to rub down here, yes, so pleasurable. He removed his hand.

"See? Now you try. Just leave your hand there. No need to move it."

Shaking a bit, John placed his own fingers in front of my crotch and I didn't hesitate one second. Yes, it was John's hand, yes I never had any sexual interest toward him but the cream was making me SO DAMN NEEDY. I NEEDED a touch, a rub. I rocked my hips once again to rub against his fingers. I didn't care if it was John's or anyone fingers, I just wanted to rub my aching pussy and it was feeling so, so fucking good. I had wanted that rub all morning.

"Does the slut want us to suck her nipples?", asked Vuskvangher. Of course I wanted. I nodded yes frantically. Soon, two pairs of lips (John and Vuskvangher's) were soothing my aching nipples, waves of pleasure coming from my most sensitive spots. I was seeing stars, I lost myself in the moment, in the pleasure, until they stopped, went back to their seats, laughing, and resumed talking business.

It was the first time John touched me sexually. For a brief moment, I became a sexual creature in his hands and I was deeply ashamed of it. But, I wanted more. I resumed squeezing my thighs, eyes closed, focusing on the pleasure... until someone tugged my leash again.

"We can't leave you like that. Sit here."

In front of me, the exotic brunette was laying down on her back. Both guys helped me get on my knees, then positioned me just above her face. Her hot breath against my pussy was driving me wild. Not waiting for any instructions, I moved down, against her face, rubbing my wet folds against her nose.

"Wait, wait!" laughed Vuskvangher. "Stay still. You, lick her.", he said. The girl tongue extended upward. Agile, knowledgeable, taking me into a wild ride to depths of pleasures unknown to me. I suddenly felt a mouth on my nipple: the second girl, sucking my breasts.

"Look at her John, isn't she a perfect specimen for us?"
Both men were standing on each side of the girl, turned toward me. In my confused state of bliss, I remember John, stroking his large member, watching me.

"She's just cattle, John.", said Vuskvangher, also pumping his cock. "Classified as a fucking slut."
I moaned, squirming on top of the cattle head, hips thrusting. From the corner of my eye, I saw John accelerating his pace.

Then, he couldn't resist anymore. His cum landed on my chest and my thighs, as I was moving back and forth faster and faster, almost suffocating the poor girl, using her face to rub myself.

"Stop it girls."

To my disappointment, they moved away from me, leaving me kneeling and trembling from the pleasure... but still with a desperate need of being rubbed again.

Vuskvangher helped me get up and the girls cleaned me with some tissue. John couldn't meet my gaze. He had crossed another step: not only sexualizing me, his boss, but also jerking off to me -ON me!? My mind was still focused on the aching feeling but a small part of me was wondering what consequences John would face back at home for... for... sexually assaulting me, I guess?

But no time to think about that now : the meeting was over.

Vuskvangher walked us out of the office, advising John: "Remove her restraint when leaving the building, poor girl."

I went back into the elevator, my blonde hair disheveled, with the same, blissful, stupid expression. This time, I was starting to understand the platinum slut facing me in the mirror was actually me.

In the hall, I tottered back to the exit, feeling once again exposed among workers dressed sharply, contrasting acutely with me, dressed like a street whore.

"I'll call a taxi.", said John, once we were out of the building. "Let me remove your restraints first."

YES.

Immediately, my hands rushed to my pussy and nipples, pushing the little band of fabric away, pinching, teasing, rubbing, already dripping wet between my legs. Here I was, a grown woman, wantonly pleasuring myself out in public standing, oblivious to the business crowd that walked around us, waiting for a taxi. Exactly like this cattle I had saw at the airport.

The car arrived and the driver exclaimed: "Hey, cuff her please, I don't want her juices all over my seats."

Reluctantly, I submitted to John as he locked my hand behind my back again with a little "sorry".
On the ride back, John tried his best not to look at me.

We got back to his room and he asked the girl to fix whatever they had done to me. Both girls giggled, tugging me toward the bed were I was pushed, hands still locked behind.
One of them got down on me, her fingers playing with my nipples and her expert tongue taking care of my pussy.

Seeing the scene unfold, John protested weakly: "Uh... This isn't what I had in mind..." but was quickly interrupted by the second girl getting his pants off and his cock in her mouth. She sucked him off while he watched me get eaten out.
Once again, he was sexually stimulated while looking at me.
At one point, they moved into the bed with us. He fucked her, still watching me. Then, they released my restraints, and I immediately started fingering myself, captivated by the sight of him fucking the second girl. No more inhibition, it was pure, orgiac sex. I was frigging myself, like when I was watching one of those porn movies, looking at John pounding his sex slave from behind.

But the girls were more in control than it appeared.

The blonde moved away from him, her bare cunt detaching from his big, wet cock and grabbed his cock, moving her hand up and down his shaft while looking at me:
"Look at the little slut, she wants it", she purred.

My long legs, ending in high heels, were wide open, my hand energetically rubbing between them.

"Fuck her", added the other blond.

In my confused, horny mind, I still managed to wonder why would they encourage him to have sex with me.

But he didn't. He went back to fuck the two other blonde girls while looking at me intensely. Clearly, as he was pounding them and watching me rub my pussy, he was picturing himself ravaging me. But he didn't.

The following segment may be the most important part in this trip. More important than the cattle system, and a lot more important than my assistant pondering if he should have his way with me.
I cannot narrate it for reason you'll soon understand. Instead, I'll let John continue this report.