Fortunately nobody in the salon reacted on him calling me, a cattle, by its name.
To go to the hotel, we got into a taxi, my miniskirt riding up as I was getting 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 looked at me, expecting me to take charge of the situation like I always did. I looked at him, with a surprised, anxious and vacant expression, my tongue stupidly jutting out my surgically enhanced lips (trying to ease the scratchy feeling on my chin). 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, but someone that was waiting for you to grab her head, drag it to your crotch, and facefuck violently.
So 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 turned toward me so I could answer but, no! His proactive boss still wasn't here anymore! 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. Is that right?
-Yes. Two rooms.
-Alright. You luggage are already in your respective room. You have two girls in your room, provided free of charge by our government. Here are the keys, this one you, this one for her. Enjoy your stay."
John and me hadn't exchanged a word since the beauty salon, I guess the situation was too awkward for him, and, well, I couldn't speak anyway. We rode the elevator in silence and finally went to our respective room.

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 of joy.
The first thing I did was 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 form my calves. I tried again, slowly. The pain came back. I stood there on my left foot still in high heels for a few seconds, like some pink flamingo, and though 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 shrinked my Achilles tendon. While I was walking in heels for hours on the treadmill during the quarantine, the cream was adapted my feet, forcing them into a permanent arch suited for Weltbeltein footwear. I never realized because I never removed my heels until now, but my feet were now requiring me to wear heels.
I crawled to the bed, grabbing on the way the shoes 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 hels, but in my trusty PJ.

I took advantage of this small respite 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. Putting a swollen lips between two fingers, I could really feel the implant inside. They were turning me into some plastic doll, from the inside.

Someone knocked on the door.

"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, there enormous, fake, round breasts exposed. But I was a lot more interested by 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 push 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 returned to my room. As I left John's, I saw him getting intimate with the 2 women. No doubt he'll have an eventful night. Hope he could get up tomorrow because I needed him in top form, when the business meeting was supposed to take place.

In my room, I tried to work a bit on my laptop but my long fake nails were keeping me from using the keyboard correctly and mind wasn't in it anyway. I went back to the bed, switched on the TV and rubbed myself to sleep watching some of the misogynistic Weltbeltein's porn.

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 slap and the masturbation).

The girls 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 the next 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 on my clit. Opening my eyes, I saw they both had gloves, with residues of a glowing, neon blue cream. The tingling feeling was creeping up, like an intense, itchy mosquito bite, irradiating 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 these cream, right? It's usually used for these areas, not for the chin. It will keep you busy while your owner have its interview."

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

They covered me with two bands of strechy fabric, that looked like wide belt more 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 a I could. I couldn't protest anyway.

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 nipple. I wiggled a bit, pressing against the backseat, hurting my bound arm in the process, to get my small tube top to move across my chest to rub my breasts, 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 and heavy layers of makeup were preventing me to show 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 into my little simple world. A world of itch, squeeze, pleasure. Rubbing my bare pussy back on forth 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?"

O 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? He helped me get out. This was the business district, similar to all other business districts in big towns. Not many cattle here, mostly businessmen and even some 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 skirt to cover my pussy.

We walked into the building's lobby. Very fancy, with black marble floor. Men and women -female citizens- 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... He suddenly 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 in the elevator. "Do you want to wait for me back to the hotel?"

The law forbidden me to move around by myself in Weltbeltein 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.

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 worker there, dressed in shirt or even business suit. They mostly ignored us. She invited us to enter the door of a private office

"Ah! Finally!". Vuskvangher. One of Weltbeltein most influencial 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. 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." He was standing in front of me. The last time he saw me was during some party. A strong willed, smart brunette. Now a vacant platinum slut.

"Did you enjoy your cattle already, John?
-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 other asked for it.
-She's also asking for it. Look."

He moved his hand down, just in front of my crotch, the ring and middle fingers 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 rocked my hips once again to rub against them. 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 wanted that 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.

After a short while (an eternity for me, dying to be touched like that again), he walked us out of the office, advising John: "Remove her restraint when leaving the building, poor girl."

I tottered back to the exit, feeling once again exposed among workers dressed normally that contrasted 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. I had to use some saliva on my left hand taking care of my nipples to sooth the tingling but I was already dripping wet between my legs. Here I was, a grown woman, wantonly pleasuring myself out in public, 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: "Hey, if she's fingering herself inside my taxi, please put that towel under her ass. Yeah thank you."
The towel was indeed necessary as I played with myself during all the ride.

We got back to John's room and he asked the girl to fix whatever they had done to me. Both girls giggled, invited me to lay on the bed. One of them got down on me, her fingers playing with my nipples and her expert tongue taking care of my pussy.

John protested weakly:"Uh... This isn't what I had in mind..." but was quickly interrupted by the second girl getting his cock in her mouth. She was sucking him off while he watched me get eaten out. At one point, they moved into the bed with us. He fucked her, he fucked the other girl while I was fingering myself and watching.
Then, finally, they encouraged him to fuck me. I was laying on my back, leg open, ready to welcome his large manhood. Yes. He went in smoothly, pistoning me hard and fast while I tried to scream. I was getting fucked silly by my assistant. I crossed my high heels behind is back, trying to have him fucking me even deeper.