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Archive-name: Slaves/susan.txt


Archive-title: Right Choice, The

     She laid naked on a plywood table.  A metal band circled her

neck.  Smaller bands encircled both wrists.  A short chain,

linking the three, held her wrists behind her head.  A heavy

chain ran down the center of the table.  A padlock bound her

collar to the chain.  The room was too dark to see anything, but

she heard the gentle breathing of her sisters.  "Yes," thought

the 36 year old brunette, "I made the right choice," as she

drifted off to sleep.

     Three days ago Susan was a senior vice-president of a major

Wall Street firm.  She had prestige and personal wealth.  There

was no end of men interested in her.   Susan had dated some, when

it helped her career.  A few could help her enough for her to bed


     Despite all of her success, Susan was empty and bone tired. 

She was tired of creating multimillion dollar transactions, of

being a driving, dominating woman in the business world, of

choosing her dates based on business considerations.  She was

tired of having to make decisions on every aspect of her life. 

Last year, after a Mediterranean vacation, Susan decided to

change her life.  

     After having heard vague rumors of the Society for several

years, she started tracking these rumors in the corridors of

wealth and power she walked.  Nine months ago, she sent out a

tentative feeler.  

     Seven months ago, a wax sealed envelope was slipped under

her door.  A strange design was impressed into the wax.  The

handwritten script inside said she had an appointment at

International Import and Export Associates.  The notice was

signed "THE SOCIETY."

     She kept the appointment with a mixture of hope and

skepticism.  An attractive brunette receptionist administered

hours of psychological tests.  Then she was interviewed by a

young man, who never identified himself.  He questioned her in

detail about every aspect of her life: business, educational,

social and sexual.  Susan left nine hours later, with the feeling

that every part of her psyche was discovered and probed.  

     When weeks and then months went by, Susan began thinking she

made a mistake.  Last month another letter came under the same

seal.  The next day, she gave her 30 days notice.

     When she got home that evening, she found her mailbox empty.

A little surprised at this, she went into her condo and found it

stripped.  In shocked disbelief she wandered from room to room. 

Every cabinet and closet was open and empty.  Wires with colored

plastic caps stuck out of the walls and ceilings where once there

were light fixtures, outlets and switches.  Cheap shades covered

the windows.

     In the master bedroom, an old mattress lay on the floor.  At

its head was a tape deck with a pair of headphones.   By the far

wall was a closed streamer trunk with a wax sealed envelope on


     With trembling hands, she opened the envelope.  A hotel key

fell out.  The letter simply stated that if she had changed her

mind, she was to use the hotel key and everything would be

returned.  Otherwise, she was to follow the instructions on the

next page.  

     For several minutes, Susan's heart raced and her mind

churned as she stared at the instruction page.  Then she lowered

her hand, closed her eyes and breathed deeply and slowly.  Now

calm, she opened her eyes and began taking off her clothes and

jewelry, putting them in a neat pile next to the trunk.  

     She opened the trunk and took out a pair of handcuffs. 

Turning the metal cuffs over in her hand, she shivered.  Then

quickly, before she could change her mind, she put a cuff around

her right wrist and locked it down.  She felt better having made

that commitment and locked the other cuff on the left wrist. 

Without any further hesitation, she got the legcuffs and locked

them onto her ankles.  She then took the last item out of the

truck: a padlock.  Kneeling, she placed all of her belongings in

the trunk and locked it with the padlock.    She started to the

bathroom, stumbled and shortened her stride to the length of

chain connecting her ankles.  

     She took a bath with just soap and water using a rough

washcloth.  Sitting in the warm water with the metal on her

wrists and ankles, she was more relaxed than she had been in

years.  She leaned back, eyes half closed, and rubbed the metal

against her breasts, pressing her legs together tightly.   Every

nerve in her body felt as if they were being softly caressed. 

Reluctantly Susan stood when the water cooled and shook off the


     In the bedroom she laid on the floor on her back.  Putting

her hands above her head, she started squirming to dry her back

on the carpet.   Rolling onto her belly she started to dry her

front.  Her nipples hardened under the friction.  Her breath

shortened.  All of the sensations she felt in the tub

intensified.  She tried to rub her sex against the carpet, but

the chain was too short.  Flushed and panting, she cried in

frustration and rose to her knees, furiously rubbing her sex with

her right hand.  

     She was hot.  Hotter than she had ever been.  She tried to

reach her breasts with her left hand, but the cuffs held her

back.  With a grunt she threw her shoulders to the floor, and

ground her breasts into the carpet.  

     For an eternity  Susan stayed there.  Legs straining against

the chains.  Hips in the air, moving frantically as she ground

her breasts against the floor and drove her hand into her sex. 

Her breath came in gasps.   Her face flushed and contorted with

strain, she was the sexual animal she never had allowed herself

to be.  With a scream, she went over the edge and collapsed.  

     Some time later, Susan stirred.  On legs were too weak to

walk, she crawled to the kitchen.  Pulling herself up with her

hands, she got the single microwave dinner from the freezer and

put it in the microwave.  While it heated, she greedily drank

water from her hands  She ate with her fingers, sitting on the

kitchen floor.

     Feeling somewhat stronger after eating, but drained and

tired Susan crawled back to the bedroom.  She put on the

headphones, turned on the tape deck and stretched out on the

mattress.  She smiled when she recognized Brahms.  As she drifted

off to sleep, she did not notice her hands sliding back to her

crotch.  Nor did she detect the subliminal messages on the tape

telling her "OBEY SLAVE."

     Years of habit woke Susan at 6 a.m., her hands still

grasping herself.  She headed for the bathroom to relieve

herself.  Halfway across the room, she realized with a start that

she was crawling on her hands and knees.  She flushed with

embarrassment, but did not get up.

     Crawling back to the bedroom,  she saw clothes hanging in

the closet.  Someone had entered the bedroom while she slept and

left a single set of clothes in the closet!

     The suit and blouse was one of regular business suits.  The

lingerie was not.  Susan had never worn lingerie like this

before, let alone even consider wearing it to work.  Rather than

pantyhose, there was a very lacy white garter belt and white

hose.  The bra was a sanity, lace demicup.  The panty was made of

the same material, but was the smallest piece of material she

could imagine.  

     Very reluctantly, Susan unlocked the cuffs and put them and

the key in the bag.  After putting on the lingerie, she looked at

herself in the mirror.  Susan felt more exposed than when she was


     After dressing, Susan went to the kitchen and discovered the

remains from her previous meal were gone.  A thermos of coffee

sat on the counter.  She finished that and went to work with a

lighter step.

     Susan's weekdays continued in this pattern.  Every evening

there was another wax sealed envelope on top of the trunk with a

key to the same hotel room and an offer to change her mind. 

Susan willingly chose to lock her clothes in the trunk and lock

herself in chains.  In fact, as the month progressed, she found

it harder and harder to concentrate on her work.  She often found

herself daydreaming of the evening when she would be on the

bedroom carpet, damp from her bath and lust.  The cold

calculating businesswoman was becoming a sex addict. 

     The weekends were different.  Saturday mornings her hair and

nails were done.  In the afternoons she had medical or dental

exams.  Sundays, she was given a list of convenience stores and

fast food restaurants in the area and instructed to be at each at

a specific time and make a specific purchase.  All the purchases

were minor like a cup of coffee or package of gum.  She was not

to consume any of them, but to put them on her kitchen counter. 

Although confused, she followed instructions.

     On her last day at work, she left the office in time to stop

at her bank.  She withdrew all of the money in her savings and

checking accounts, walking out with a cashier check for $150,000. 

She immediately drove to International Import and Export


     "Good afternoon Ms. Hillman, we've been expecting you."  

The same blonde receptionist smiled pleasantly and seated Susan

in the chair next to her desk.  "Do you have some papers for us?"

     Susan handed the blonde an envelope from her purse.  The

receptionist then had her endorse the cashiers check and sign the

title to her car.  In the next several minutes, Susan signed a

deed for her condo, transferred control of her brokerage and

money market accounts, and signed a complete power of attorney.

     When the last of these papers were back in the folder, the

receptionist said, "There is just one more to sign, but I can't

help you with that.  If you'll just wait here a minute."

     She left with the folder and returned with a box, which she

placed on her desk.  "Please take off your clothes and put them

in this box." 

     Susan hesitated a moment until she heard the blonde locking

the door to the suite.  Once she had stripped, the receptionist

took naked woman's hands and placed them behind her neck,

interlocking the fingers.  She tilted her head down until Susan

was looking at the floor a couple of feet in front of her.  She

pushed the brunette's legs apart until her feet were about a foot

and a half apart.

     "Remember, unless you are told otherwise, always keep your

hands behind your head and look down.  If you are standing, keep

your feet spread like this.  If you are sitting, spread your

knees this far."

     To Susan's surprise, the blonde then stripped.  Two inch

metal bands circled her neck and wrist.  The design of the wax

seal Susan had seen so often was tattooed on the woman's left

breast.  A small metal disk hung from a short chain attached to a

ring in her vaginal lip.  Smiling, the naked receptionist hugged

the brunette. "We are always naked before Them."

     Sensing her concern, she kissed Susan and softly assured

her, "They will enjoy you."

     She returned to her desk, took a small ring from a drawer

and put it through her nose.  With a box of towlettes, she

removed Susan's makeup and then her own.

     Placing her own arms behind her head, the blonde led Susan

around the corner and down a corroder.  With her head lowered,

Susan stared at "SLUT 523" tattooed on the woman's right cheek. 

They were joined by a redhead, collared and marked as the blonde. 

Before opening the inner door, the redhead turned to Susan and

softly said, "Remember to keep your head down and don't say

anything unless you are given permission to speak."

     As the redhead turned to open the door, Susan saw her tattoo

was "TITS 56C."  The three nude women walked across a thick

carpet with their hands behind their heads to a massive desk.  

     "Sit down Ms. Hillman," a strong male voice commanded. 

Susan sat in a rough wooden chair, keeping her hands behind her

head, her head down and remembering to keep her knees spread. 

The women knelt on either side of her.

     "There is one document left for you to sign," the voice said

as a piece of parchment was pushed across the desk to Susan. 

"Pick it up and read it."

     With trembling hands, Susan read the long document entitled

a Chattel Deed.  She swallowed hard when she saw herself called

"property."  She blushed while reading she had tits not breasts,

an ass not buttocks, and a cunt not a vagina.  In great detail,

the document detailed the transfer of all her property to the

Society.  Included in the list of "property" transferred were

every part of her body!  The Society had the right to permanently

mark its property, use it in any way, loan it, rent it or even

sell it.  Susan was stripped of every civil and human right. 

Even her name was taken.  Her new designation was "cunt 158."  A

bit paler, Susan returned the document to the desk and returned

her hands behind her head.

     "Have you read it? Speak!"

     "Yes, sir."

     "Do you understand what this means?  You will control

nothing.  All your property gone.  Your body, even your mind,

under the control of other. Speak!"

     "Yes, sir," Susan said very softly.

     "Do want to change mind?  This is your last chance."

     Susan sat silently.


     "No, sir.  I want to sign it."

     "You can't sign it.  You no longer have a name."  The man

slid a small box to the end of the desk.  The blonde took a

small, clear glass dish from the box and set it next to the

document.  The brunette sat passively as the redhead pricked her

finger and squeezed blood onto the dish.  The blonde guided her

in dipping her index finger in the blood and making an "X" on the

document.  The redhead applied lipstick thickly and the blonde

guided her head to the document.  cunt 158 sealed the document of

her enslavement with her lips.

     As the other women gather up the document and left the room,

the man walked around the desk and sat at the front.  With her

head lowered, cunt 158 could not see above his chest.

     "We have several members who are interested in you.  By the

way, they have already seen you on your Sunday trips.  They have

also seen this..."

     With a small box in his hand, the man stretched his right

arm to the wall.  Following his hand, she saw a television set in

the wall.  All color drained from her face as the brunette 

realized she was the one on the screen, ass swinging in the air

as she ground her tits into the carpet and frantically rubbed her

clit.  Somehow they had taped her evening passions on the bedroom


     "You certainly enjoy chains.  What else?  Here," commanded

the male, pointing to a spot in front of him.  

     With weak legs, the brunette obeyed, standing with her feet

apart, hands behind her legs and eyes down.  She gasped slightly

when a hand felt the softness of her thighs.  She moaned when he

caressed her right nipple.  Her moan deepened when he cruelly

twisted the red pebble between his thumb and finger.  

     The man released the nipple and raised her head.  His clear

blue eyes looked into her half glazed eyes.  She could not return

the stare.  She closed her eyes and lowered her head.  Her head

suddenly wiped back, eyes wide open as the man grabbed her sex

and drove two fingers into her.    

     She reacted instinctively, grinding herself on the impaling

hand.  Waves of pleasure and humiliation swept over her.  Her

breath came is gasps.   Her eyes closed as she focused entirely

on the hand within her.  


     As she started to peak, it was gone.  In astonishment she

looked at the man.  With a condescending smile, he dried his hand

on her face. "Your wet," he said as he turned to leave the room. 

Before going out the door, he commanded "Stay!  Your sister will

be back for you."

     Cunt 158 sobbed.  She desperately wanted to fuck herself, to

drive her fingers deep.  She needed to cum, but the command to

stay was too strong.  She knew she was owned and obeyed her

owner.  Tears ran continuously down her face and fell onto her


     She was still standing there, feet wide apart, hands behind

her head, sobbing uncontrollably when the blonde returned. 

Wrapping her arms around the sobbing woman, she gave her

strength.  When cunt 158's sobs stopped, her sister kissed away

her tears and cleaned her face.

     In another room she was photographed and fingerprinted.  The

Society's seal was tattooed on her right breast and "CUNT 158"

was tattooed on her left ass.  A heavy, two inch collar was

permanently locked on her neck.  There were D rings at the front

and the back of the collar.  Smaller metal bands were attached to

both wrists.  A length of chain fastened her wrists to the back

of the collar as her nose was pierced and a ring inserted. 

Finally, her cunt lip was pierced and a ring attached.  Later a

fine chain would be attached suspending a metal disk bearing the

Society's seal.

     In a break room, a heavy chain was attached to the front of

her collar.  The collar ran to the blonde's collar, then to the

redhead's collar and to a bolt in the floor.  The three naked,

bound women knelt in silence until they were fed by hand by one

of the cleaning staff. 

      When the food was gone, the cleaning man opened his pants

and walked to cunt 158.  Without being told, she opened her

mouth.  Holding her hair, he fucked her mouth.  As a free woman,

she would never consent to oral sex.  In chains, she eagerly

sought to swallow all his cum.  

     They were then chained on the tables for the night.  At

first the brunette found the heavy chain beneath her

uncomfortable.  Then she heard the others' chains rattling and

their soft moaning.  Listening in the darkness, cunt 158 realized

her sisters were rubbing against their chains.  After several

tries, she manipulated so one of the large links was against her

clit.  In a few moments her moaning joined that of her sisters. 

Gradually the moaning subsided, replaced with the soft breathing

of sleep.  Her last thought before succumbing to sleep was "SLAVE


                            THE END  


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