The Institute

The dull grey walls of the Institute dominated four downtown blocks of the city. They had done so throughout my youth, enclosing a place of mystery and rumor. No one really knew what went on in there, so everyone made up stories; and if those stories were told, everyone wanted to believe they were true, even if everyone also knew they were just outside fabrications of someone who knew just as little as ourselves. It was just easier to believe a story, than to admit we didn't know anything at all.

Sure, there were _some_ things we knew. We knew it had something to do with fighting the big crisis of mankind that we were facing. We knew that the youngsters in our schools were training very hard to be allowed inside, but only a very select few of them would ever be admitted. We knew they would be admitted at their eighteenth birthday, and would never be seen again. And that was all we knew. Is it surprising that a place like that would spark rumor and myth?

And today, I had become eighteen; and today, I would be admitted. I had survived all the selections that had made the classes in high school smaller and smaller. As everyone lost the chastity belt which ensured that we lived by the rules, I kept mine. For the last few months it had just been me, tutored by three private teachers. I had passed the final exam only yesterday, and nothing stood in my way anymore. I had said goodbye to my mother, my sisters, and my friends. My big adventure was about to begin.

Compared to the sheer magnitude of the Institute walls, rising 100 feet into the air, the main gate was surprisingly small, nothing more than a door really. It was eight am sharp when I rung the bell. No one answered; the door just swung open and that was it. I tried a "Hello?", but there was no answer. I hesitated into the room beyond. The door shut behind me with a sharp click. I was in a small room, which resembled a doctors waiting room. Everything was glaring white, and there were several chairs with their back to two of the long walls. I had entered through the door in a short wall, and there were two more straight opposite it. In the centre of the room stood a feet-wide column to waist height. On top of it was a smaller rod with an irregular shape, rising up another eight inches, with a rounded top. There were two round thickenings at the base, which merged into the shaft itself. The whole thing expressed power, and I was attracted to it immediately. I stepped forward and touched it. The surface wasn't solid, but strangely resilient, much like rubber, but also different in an inexplicable way. It felt really good... I looked around the room. There was no sign of anyone around. Feeling disobedient, I let my hand slide around it. It was just thick enough that my fingers could reach around it completely. I held it in my hand and squeezed. It felt comfortable and good. I released the squeeze, moved my hand down a bit along the shaft, and squeezed again. There was a strange sensation running through my body, like a gust of wind. I had no idea where it came from or what it meant, but it was exciting and energizing. I was wondering what it would taste like... and without thinking, I bent over and licked the tip. It was salty and musky, mixed with something else that I couldn't define, but absolutely tasted very good. I was just inches away from my eyes, and even though I knew this was just my imagination, it seemed to be throbbing, deep and hungry. I wanted to taste more of this strange object, which also seemed so familiar somehow. I looked around the dull room again. Still nothing there. I opened my lips further, and lowered my head a bit more. The rod gently slid into my mouth. I let it press aside my tongue, and come all the way to my throat. The feeling of my mouth being filled up by the huge rod was amazing. Even if my mind had no idea what I was doing, my body knew all too well. I let the rod slide out, until my lips barely touched it; then took it in again, even deeper into my throat, gobbling up the larger part of it. I repeated that, and turned it into a rythm, in, out, in, out. My hand was still holding the rod, deeper down near the base, but that felt wrong somehow, and I released it. I only moved my head up and down, so the rod slid in and out of my mouth, comforting and satisfying.

"Welcome, Lizzy. I see you have settled in."

I shrieked and jumped up straight at the voice coming from nowhere. I turned to the second door. It had opened, and on the doorstep was a tall woman in her thirties. She was wearing high heels, stockings, suspenders, and nothing else.

A blush rushed to my cheeks, and I started stammering: "Forgive me... I... I didn't... it's not what it looks like... sorry..." I uttered some more words before I fell silent, ashamed and guilty, my head turned down. She had waited until I was silent, a blank look on her face... or was it a hint of amusement at the corner of her mouth, curling her lip upwards almost too slight to notice? She dragged out the silence for a full 20 seconds, then she stepped into the room, closing the door behind her, and said: "You know what it is, right?"

I shook my head.

"It is called a clone. It is an exact replica of the President's penis. There are many of them in the Institute, and you will be very familiar with them real soon."

She stepped forward and laid a hand on the side of the clone, stroking it gently. "It is beautiful, isn't it?"

I nodded, thinking to myself that 'beautiful' wasn't entirely the right word for it, 'intriguing' or 'irresistable' would have been better, especially now that I knew what it was.

She continued: "But we don't have time to admire a clone all day. Come along, lets get you set up."

I followed her through the second door into a small treatment room. There was a gyneacology chair in the centre, and she pointed me to it, then started going through some drawers, fetching tools, with her back to me. The chair looked ominous, but I managed to get myself together and take my place it. When I had put my legs in the hoops, she turned around. There was a small key in her hand, that she used on the locks of my chastity belt near my hips. When she removed the belt, I felt very naked. I had worn it for as long as I could remember, and I had been proud that I kept it all through highschool, as all the other girls were losing it, one by one. Of course I knew that I wouldn't keep it here, but now the time had come to lose it, I felt and insecure.

She didn't give me much time to mourn my loss though. Before I knew it, my pussy was covered in cream.

She said: "There is hair growth down there, but it is disgusting and filthy. It obscures your beauty, makes you look frigid and secretive. From now on, it will be shaved twice a day, so the skin is always smooth and your availability is emphasized."

I nodded, too impressed to speak. She started shaving me thoroughly and methodically. It felt cool and relaxing. I gathered a bit of courage and asked: "so... what is going to happen next?"

"Well, I have some more things to do before your training can start. It won't take long, maybe 15 minutes. After that, I will send you to your personal trainer. She will tell you everything else that you need to know. But please be quiet now, I need to concentrate or I will cut you!"

She shaved me very efficiently, it took less than two minutes. Then she put away the razor, took a small pair of scissors instead and said: "Next, I will take your maidenhead. It gets in the way of your primary functions here, and may give you a false sense of shame or protection. We cannot allow obstructions to your penetration here. Buckle up, this may hurt a bit."

There was a sharp sting when she made the cut, but before I yelped it was gone again.

Then she showed me a small bead in the palm of her hand, just a few millimeters in size.

"Finally, I will insert your chip. It measures all kinds of body functions and uploads the data to the central server, so we can monitor your well-being. Heartbeat, respiration, blood pressure, hormone levels, endorphins, stuff like that. We need to know your responses to fine tune your stimulation program, you see?"

Without awaiting a response, her hand entered me. She fumbled a bit, then retracted it. The bead was no longer in her hand. She turned to a side table with a computer on it and typed some keys, then turned the monitor towards me so I could watch it. The screen looked complicated, full of graphs and numbers.

"Look... respiration normal, heartbeat slightly raised... you may be a bit nervous?"

I wanted to tell her that anyone would be nervous in these circumstances, but I kept my mouth shut.

"You even have slightly raised hornification levels! Very good, very good! "

I didn't really know what she was talking about, but I just kept silent. She turned away from the screen and focused on me again. She took a pair of shoes and put them on my feet. They were exactly my size, with an open top and high stiletto heels. The shoes stretched all the way to the ankles, and ended in two long leather flaps with buckles. She circled my ankles with them, closed the buckles, and took the key from a lock that kept them in place.

She said I could get up from the chair now. When I stood on my own feet again, the shoes made me unstable and limited my movement. When I walked a few steps, I almost fell over and she had to catch me, saying: "Don't worry,you'll get used to it soon enough. They will help you move around more graciously."

I found it hard to believe that this uncomfortable, insecure situation might ever lead to a display of grace, but I kept silent once more.

She took a pair of leather wristcuffs, put them on me and locked them; then she said: "There, I think you are ready to meet your trainer. Come."

I felt ridiculous as she took me by the hand and led me back to the waiting room, stumbling uneasy on the high heels. She pressed a button, and the third door slid open. A small trolley rolled in on rails in the floor that I hadn't noticed before. It was thigh-high, with a superstructure which consisted of two parallel metal bars spanning the width of the vehicle, and a platform on the back side, just above the wheels. She told me to put my knees on the lower platform and my torso across the bars. In a procedure that showed routine, she fastened belts around my knees, attached my ankle belts to two metal bars extending from the back of the trolley, and my wrists to similar bars on the front. I was draped over the trolley, my torso horizontal and my back to the top, feet and hands bound at the base, and completely unable to move.

She pressed some keys on a computer, and the trolley started to move on the rails, with me on it. The door slid open, it drove into a corridor and picked up running speed. There was no need to steer it, it was probably controlled by advanced software. It came to a switch and turned into a bigger corridor with double tracks. A similar trolley approached me on the other track, with a naked girl strapped to it just like me. She passed me and disappeared in the distance. The trolley took a bend to the left, drove up a dead end and stopped; but I immediatly felt it being lifted up into a shaft. It went up two stores before the elevator stopped and the trolley started driving again; but now it went backwards, with my ass leading the way, and I couldn't see where I was going anymore. There were some more switches, bends, and corridors until we took a final turn, drove through a door, and stopped.