Archive-name: Slaves/susan.txt
Archive-author:
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
them.
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
top.
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
excess.
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
naked.
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
Associates.
"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.
"Speak!"
"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
carpet!
"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
breasts.
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
OBEYS".
THE END
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