She was a lot younger than me, maybe not even 21. The thing that struck me the most when she opened the door, accompanied by a guard, is how she oozed sex. Her deep blue eyes were kind of blank, as if she had be disillusioned a thousand times already. Her inflated lips had a permanent slight smile and she was constantly licking them. She gave the impression she was ready for anything, that she had already saw so much shit she was way beyond caring about what would happen to her and would even enjoy being abused. Her body was one of those porn doll playing on the TV: platinum blonde, little nose, high cheekbones, wearing a small ruby bikini top showcasing her big, fake breasts more than covering it. A D-cup, maybe? Not THAT big. She had a thin frame, and was wearing a ridiculous schoolgirl micro-skirt and white Mary Jane shoes with heels that were definitely too high.
She was supposed to teach me how to put makeup but clearly she didn't want to be here. She would often giggle vapidly and do here own makeup, sometime blurting out instructions to me. She would get annoyed quickly, often rolling her eyes at me, the old thirty-something-hag. I tried to ask her some questions about the country only to get shrugs, sighs or empty giggles for only answers. I hoped to find a common ground, as we were both tagged cattle, but, no. She was a typical rude, entitled, brainless girl. Actually, she would spend more time eyeing the guards and smiling at them than teaching me.

So, even if I was happy to see a female face, it wasn't a good experience. I only had to met her 2 times. I already knew how to put makeup but I guess since heavy makeup is mandatory in Weltbeltein the state decided to provide some course for foreigners.

The next cattle I met was VERY different.

I remember the guard dragging me in the corridor. I still had difficulty walking in the platform heels. I didn't get a lot of practice in the room after all, as I've been spending most of my time crawling on the floor or laying on the bed.
To my surprise, we entered a small hotel gym where a woman was waiting for us. Like me, she was wearing stripper heels. But she wasn't naked : she sported a neon green miniskirt that couldn't hide the perfectly spherical orbs of her ass and a similarly useless micro crop top barely covering her big, round, fake breasts. She also was the typical buxom platinum blonde that was featured so often on TV, perfectly bimboish, with deep blue eyes and heavy makeup covering her frozen face. She was cattle, I could have told even if she hasn't been wearing her tag. But she was wearing it, her anus and vagina was prominently exposed on it, like mines were on my own.

First impression was bad. She didn't look at me at all, ignoring me completely and focused instead on the guard. She got on her knees, smiling, as he approached.

"Uh, you want something, uh?", he groaned. She nodded enthusiastically. I gagged.
He unzipped his pants, revealing a short but thick hard cock that immediately disappeared on the eager woman mouth.

"That a good whore. Take note.", he said to me. "She know her mouth is not for talking."
That said, he grabbed the back of her head and pistoned back and forth. Long strands of saliva were dangling from her mouth. It was hot.

"Touch yourself." he said, talking to me again.

To my surprise, I was wet and ready to go. I rubbed slowly, captivated by the furious facefucking in front of me. A real, physical manifestation of the porn I watched all the time in my little room.

He sped up the pace and asked me: "You want me to cum on her face? Or in her mouth?"

I considered the choices, trying to put myself in her place, then decided she would would prefer him to cum on her face. That way, she wouldn't have to endure the disgusting taste.

"On her face", I croaked. First sentence I said since several days. Happy to have my voice somehow back.

"What did you say? Speak properly, do a fucking sentence.", he said, still pounding her mouth.

"I want you to cum on her face.
-What? Beg me.
-Please cum on her face... I... I beg you." I squatted down, unable to stand anymore, as I rubbed furiously between my legs.
"You want me to cum on this whore face?
-...yes.
-Tell it to me.
-I want you to cum on her whore face.
-Again."

I repeated this again and again like a mantra. I was dehumanizing this woman more and more in my own mind, myself looking like some kind of beast, sitting on the floor, legs open, frigging myself off to the idea of the guard jizzing on her slutty face covered in makeup, until, to my pleasure, he grabbed suddenly her head and ejaculated long strands of white cum that landed across her eyes, in her open mouth and even in her hair. I came violently, spasming and screaming on the floor.

She didn't seems bothered at all. Even more surprising: smiling widely, she immediately proceeded to scoop and eat the goo with eyes locked on him.

"Good job slut. Now teach the tourist, I'll pick her up later.", he said, leaving the gym.

The woman finished licking her fingers before turning her attention to me for the first time. She was beautiful. Under all the heavy make up, collagen, botox, and her glistening face from the cum, it was hard to give her an age. She had long, thin, mature finger, that makes me think she was a bit older than me. Maybe slightly over 40?

"Shit, why did you pick the face? I'll have to redo my makeup later.", she said, slightly annoyed, as she collected and ate some leftover cum.
"I...
-It's ok, don't worry about it. What's your name?" she asked in a more upbeat tone, turning toward me. She was still kneeling. I was also still on the floor, my heart still racing from the orgasm before.

"Claire."

She laughed.
"Come on. You're so stupid. What's your name?
-...? Claire."

She laughed again.

"You're cute but you're not going to last one minute outside, cattle. What's your name?
-It's... ah." It hits me. "Cattle don't have name.", I said sheepishly.
"That's right! Now, remove your shoes.", she said, getting up.

Was it another test? I unbuckled my sandals, ready to remove it, but still keeping them on my feet. Just in case, because I knew cattle were supposed to wear heels all the time.

She came back wearing gloves and a tube of cream she applied to my calves and Achilles tendon area.
Then, she asked me to try 5 inches heels peep toes sandals. They had not platform but the angle was a lot steeper than the one I was wearing since leaving the airport. Getting up, I felt like I was going to fall forward. She laughed.

"Steady. I got you. Keep your weight at the back of the shoes. There. Stay straight. Don't bend forward. Let's walk a little together. Perfect, yes, heels first, very good."

From this point on, she would help me practice walking in the heels. I knew it would be mandatory outside so I practiced diligently, happy to have something to distract my mind with and someone to talk to.

I was a tourist. They didn't want to turn me into some kind of nymphomaniac. They wanted me to follow the rules of the country and that mean I 1)had to be comfortable naked in public, 2)should know how to wear heavy makeup, 3)should know how to wear high heels. She was training me on this last point.

I returned the next day, with another guard. This time, he responded to her silent plead by bending her over and fucking her doggy-style, her heavy fake tits moving back and forth, her fake ass jiggling unnaturally. Following the guard instructions, I was playing with my pussy again, worried about this girl. But the blissful look I caught on her face proved me wrong. Either she was the best actress in the world, or she loved it, getting pounded with a wide smile and her deep blue eyes rolled back in her head.

That was the new routine. The guard would take me to the gym everyday, and often use her sexually. After that, she would teach me Weltbeltein's way of life. Despite my first impression, she was actually friendly, helpful and smart. A stark contrast with the vapid makeup teacher. It was a lot easier to connect with her, maybe because we were closer in age.

With her help, after a few days, I could walk with 5.5 inch heels on a reasonable pace on the treadmill and was not a total klutz in 6. The next challenge was the platform but it was somehow even easier to walk in. At the end of the week, when I tried back the platform shoes from the airport, I couldn't understand why I had so much trouble. They were actually so easy to wear!

Beside heel training, we also did some other gym exercises. Weltbeltein likes its women fit. Most of my questions about the country were answered by her. She had been separated from her mother, who was cattle herself, pretty fast. She actually went to school, studied, had a name, a chance to become a proper female citizen. But she failed the test on her first try. She had expected it.

"It's rigged. Don't believe the pamphlets.", she told me, once, conspiratorially. "They make girls that are born from a cattle fail the test easily. They know nobody will complain.
-Really?
-Yeah. All the girls I know that have a cattle for mother are now cattle themselves. If you fail the first test -like I did, you're done for. But! If you manage to pass the first test, you need to get married as fast as you can.
-Why?
-Because you'll fail one of the next test for sure! And it's better to be a married cattle than to be a public cattle. Trust me."
She explained that for the married ones, it wasn't so bad. Usually the husband would keep them, without any spousal rights of course, but at least they weren't public properties. Herself was at the bottom of the barrel, a public cattle, moving from hand to hand. She had seen many aspects of the underground scene of Weltbeltein. Still, with her good looks and skills with men, she managed to avoid the worst of it.

"What about female citizens? Do they have rights?
-Ha! A pretty one? High chance some fucker will find a way to make her fail the test on purpose. A smart one? Same thing.
-Why don't you flee the country?
-To go where?
-You can go anywhere.
-And do what? I'm not sure I'll be treated better elsewhere."

To my surprise, she wasn't especially happy with her current condition, but she wasn't suffering from it either. She liked sex with strangers. A lot. It wasn't a mask she was putting on, and apparently it was the same for all girls she knew.
She worked most of the time as a stripper or pornstar and was apparently a little bit famous in Weltbeltein and even internationally. She had the chance to mix with powerful people.

"I know some daughters of politicians that are a lot sluttier than me, trust me.", she told me one day. "They were never classified as cattle. Another prof the game is rigged.
-How many people are cattle in Weltbeltein?", I asked, while walking on the treadmill.
"Hard to say but I think more than half.
-So many?!
-You'll see when you'll get out."

More than half was a lot more than what I expected. And, apparently, in a twisted, ironic way, the younger generation of female citizen were even starting to dress and even have surgeries to look like cattle, because that's what the men of Weltbeltein were after now! From what she said, I would be not surprised at all if all notion of female citizenship would disappear entirely pretty soon.

But, who knows... from there, maybe it would bounce back: once all Weltbeltein females would get this reduced status, maybe they would collectively fight back to regain their rights like the women did in other countries.

Anyway, that was my new routine. It was wild. I would wake up, naked, to porn playing on the screen, ate on the floor under the eyes of the guards, then go to the gym to watch her get fucked like a cheap bimbo. Then we talked philosophy or politics while exercising in high heels like it was the most normal thing in the world.

It really broke my heart to see her like that, an intelligent, caring woman treated like an animal. But she didn't mind being used. She really wanted it. I probed again into it: it really wasn't an act. She also suspected her sex drive was altered by the mush and other technologies this country was so good at, but she didn't really care. It was not like she had any choice anyway. She loved being used like some sex doll, she loved sucking cock and getting rammed by men.
At the end of the two weeks, I was happy to get out, but sad to leave her behind.

I was thoroughly pampered before going out. It happened quite fast. Two women (buxom, tagged blonde of course) helped me shower (wearing special heels even in the shower), wash and dry my hair. One of them gave me long, fake fingernails, more than doubling their natural size. The other was in charge of my makeup and fake eyelashes.
They removed my collar, making me feel especially naked without it and leaving a lingering phantom feeling of it around my neck.
Then,my first clothes in two weeks: a minuscule white stretchy skirt that I had to wear low on my hips, exposing my butt crack; it was the only way I could hide my bare pussy with it. No underwear. Barely covering my breasts, a pink crop top, with the word "bimbo" written across.
And, of course, heels. The platform wasn't very high but it was a lot steeper than the one I wore exiting the airport.
I looked like a pornstar/prostitute. The heavy foundation made my skin spotless from a distance, but, up close, it was obviously artificial, a thick mineral layer, cakey, dry. I didn't dare to move my face in fear it would crack, making me feel like I was turning into some statue from the outside.
The rich, complex, sparkly eye shadow and heavy eyelashes had turned my natural playful eyes into those of a sexual creature, but, being a bit over thirty, it also gave an air of desperation, like I was trying too much to please the male gaze.
Of course the skimpy outfit was the layer on top of the cake. Even though I ate their mush every few hours, it was pretty evident I had lost weight during this 2 weeks. I was already on the thin side but now my legs and arms were looking particularly skinny to me, as well as my ass and tits that were virtually nonexistent. A skinny prostitute, trying to showcase goods she didn't have.
The only thing I was proud of was my wavy brown hair. Whatever product they used made them shiny, vibrant with life, and they were perfectly framing my overpainted face.
This is how I met John, in the lobby, after 2 weeks away.