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Subject: Title story: "Right Choice, The" Author: Anonymous 48623954
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Date: Mon, 11 Jul 2005 23:19:18 +0000
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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.
urning 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 n 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
cliu. 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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