The Alternative Justice Foundation (AJF)
The Marcy Williams Story
(M+F, nc, mdom) 

The AJF: Marcy Williams
Chapter 1 - HISTORY 

Marcy had wanted the very best for her four-year-old daughter.  She was determined that the little girl would not grow up in rags and would get the very best education.  The humiliation she felt as a child when her friends teased her about the out-of-style second-hand clothes she wore drove her.  Her boyfriend had promised to marry her but kept delaying.  After the baby was born, he had left her.  The little girl was all she had.  Her mother had died when she was very young, and she had lost contact with her two sisters after they had moved to the west coast. Her father had remarried and moved to the Australian outback.  She had worked hard using her limited secretarial and bookkeeping training to advance in the accounting department.  (She neglected to add that sleeping with the boss had helped her ascent.) 
A series of misfortunes, a car accident, and an apartment fire, had wiped out her assets.  Marcy had become desperate and had started “borrowing” money from the company, through “temporary” adjustments to the books which she intended to make up when she got back on her feet.  It was so easy that she put off the repayment.  Before she knew it, she had taken sixty seven thousand dollars over a two year period.  It was well justified she had thought because it was used to house and clothe her daughter as she should be.  She had begun saving those funds to get the four-year-old into the best private school kindergarten and to fund the education that would give her the opportunities which Marcy had never had. 
Unfortunately she got caught.  Panic had gripped her with the prospect of being sent to jail for five to ten years and having her daughter taken away from her and put in a foster home.  She would never have the joy of raising her daughter as she should be, with the love that only Marcy could provide: a love that Marcy had been deprived of in her childhood.  She had broken down and fallen to her knees sobbing when confronted with the evidence in her boss’s office.  She said she would do anything to pay it back, and begged him not to call the police. 
At that point he had said that there might be an alternative.  There was a private organization called the Alternative Justice Foundation (the AJF) that provided an alternative to the standard government punishment of long incarcerations such a crime usually required,. She would still need to be punished for her crime and pay it back but it would result in a much shorter sentence, would provide a way for her to pay back the money, would enable her to keep her daughter and to avoid the humiliation she would feel potential future stigma her daughter would endure if her crime became publicly known.  It would, he had said, also involve her total admission, on a deep subconscious level, that she had betrayed society, that she was unworthy of respect, unworthy of being treated as a worthwhile member of society, and therefore without the rights of any kind which responsible members of society had earned.  She would be subject to physical punishment, humiliation, servitude and debasement which she had earned by betraying society.  Her body and mind would belong totally to the correctional organization which was offering this alternative. 
They would ensure that her sentence, though much shorter than a standard prison term for this crime, would be designed first to cause her to admit her worthlessness and submit herself completely to the will of the organization until she was convinced of the righteousness of her punishment and willingly submit to it.  Then she would be allowed to work for the organization while paying off her debt, so long as she maintained the strictest submission and obedience to their demands for her services.  In exchange, she would be allowed to live with her daughter in an apparently normal environment and to see her and play with her several hours each day. 
This offer was too good to be true and she broke down in tears of gratitude.  She signed a confession including detailed itemization of all of the funds she had taken (and considerably more she thought but didn’t dare say so). 
At the formal “arraignment” she was brought before a group of well dressed men who seemed to be the governing body of the The Alternative Justice Foundation known as “The Brotherhood”, and seated in the center of a semicircular table where she was the center of attention. 
“Do you, Marcy Williams, admit that you have betrayed civilized society by stealing a large amount of money from your employers and that you deserve severe punishment for your crimes?” 
“Yes, sir”, she had admitted meekly, staring at the floor. 
“Do you recognize that the alternative punishment which you have been offered by this organization, is fair, just, and entirely deserved by you?  And that it is far preferable to you than submitting yourself to the government’s judicial system?” 
“Yes, sir.” 
“Do you acknowledge that this punishment, to last for a period of three years, will be painful (but not permanently injurious) and extremely humiliating.  That your body and mind will be completely controlled and used by the organization in any way they may see fit, in spite of your own opinions as to their use, to exact fair punishment on you for your crime, and to compensate your employer, and to correct your attitude toward your proper role in society?” 
“Yes, sir,” she sobbed, beginning to feel the enormity of the situation she was committing herself to, and anticipating the great discomfort she was about to experience for the next three years. 
“Do you realize that once you commit to this course of action, there will be no turning back?  That you may not change your mind and opt to accept the standard government judicial system?  That to ensure your compliance, your confession contains admission to far more serious offenses than those to which you admit, and that those confessions would be used to prosecute you in the standard justice system?” 
She now realized that there had been more to the written confession than crimes she had actually committed, but had not read it all that carefully.  (In fact the confessed crimes were far more serious than embezzlement - a useful tool of the organization in assigning responsibility for other crimes which they themselves had committed as Members of the Governing Board.)  She agonized briefly again over her commitment, but the prospect of having her daughter taken away was too much.  “Yes, sir,” she replied with a sigh of resignation. 
“Very well, Marcy Williams, we hereby accept you as a Subject of the Brotherhood.” A gavel crashed down and she knew her fate had been sealed for whatever lay ahead.  “Your training will begin immediately.  You will spend the next four weeks under intensive physical and psychological stress designed to orient you to your duties and responsibilities as a Subject of the Brotherhood.  Your company has arranged for you to take this period as vacation.  You will be allowed to visit with your daughter from 6 pm to her 9 pm bedtime every day as is now your regular schedule.  There will however be no weekends.  All other hours of every day you will be in our custody.  Your Master for this period will be Brother Hazen, here.” A large man seated at the right end of the table arose and stared at her with power but without passion.  “You are to obey him without hesitation or question.  He has total dominion over you, for this period, even over your life itself if you should disobey him.  Remain where you are seated when we adjourn and await his instructions.  Session adjourned.” Had she known what humiliation, pain and submission the echoing sound of the final gavel would usher into her life for the next three years, she would have gladly escaped to any standard jail cell.

The AJF: Marcy Williams
 
Chapter 2  - INITIAL TRAINING 

Marcy stood motionless, her mind mesmerized; noticing nothing as the men in the room filed out.  The silence brought her mind back; she recognized the figure in front of her.  As Master Hazen approached her, his large form and the way it moved with unquestionable authority made her apprehensive.  Already she was feeling helpless, as if she could not resist him even if she regained the right or the will to do so.  His eyes were fixed on hers as he neared and she could not look away.  Was it from awe, terror, excitement, curiosity, or was it some other hold he had over her?

"You have lost the right to look at others as equals.  Your eyes will remain lowered in the presence of the Masters unless instructed otherwise." Her eyes dropped in obedience but they still felt the draw of his.  "I am Master Hazen," he continued.  "You will refer to me as Master from now on." The rolling baritone voice carried well, but was strangely soft.  It had a quiet power behind it as if he could explode her eardrums if he chose to.

"By your actions you have lost the right to equality in society.  You are therefore totally subservient to the society which we as Members represent, until you have been sufficiently punished for your transgressions as decreed by the Board, and have come to recognize your proper place in society.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir.. Master," she responded.

"You have acted out of pure selfishness without concern for the rights or needs of other people.  Your arrogance and conceit have caused a great deal of harm to the financial and psychological well being of many people." She remembered her boss saying that the lost funds would prevent the support of a homeless shelter in her neighborhood, and that one man, facing eviction, had tried suicide.  "You will have earned the right to return to free society after your sentence is up, and" he emphasized, "after your core attitude has learned to serve society and not take advantage of it.  Is that clear?"

"Yes.. Master," But she really did not understand fully.  What was this core attitude business anyway?  She was being given a well deserved tongue lashing now and supposed that is what she could expect to put up with for the next three years. But she began to feel a small resentment toward the laying on of her failings so strongly.  Why couldn't she just say she was sorry, repay the money and that would be it?  Wasn't that really enough?

"Your sentence includes a good deal of pain and humiliation.  Do you know why?"

She hadn't thought about that part too much.  All she knew was that it would be a more difficult time but a much shorter one in which she could spend time with her daughter.  She had assumed she would be spanked or forced to do some hard labor or something, and that her status as a subservient Subject in and of itself was the humiliation they were referring to.  She wasn't quite sure of the answer herself and the question felt like something of a rhetorical one however, so she replied, "No, Master."

They were still standing in the middle of the table focus. The other Members had gotten up and were socializing with others now. A few were listening in on the conversation, but it appeared that the responsibility of the Board had been accomplished.

"We offered you a substantially shorter sentence in return for a more difficult one in the form of your submission to pain and humiliation," he continued as if this were a speech he had made many times.  "In addition we offered you the right to see your daughter daily in return for our training program to eliminate your arrogant attitude and to teach you humility so that you will be able to reenter society with the deep conviction that you are here to serve.  After all, service to each others needs is the basis of the development of human society, isn't it, Marcy?"

"Yes, Master." That seemed to make sense, but it sure was deeper than she had been thinking and it was a bit much to absorb all at once.  And the basic trade offs in this alternative punishment were in fact what she had agreed to.

"Come with me," he commanded and lead her through a stone arched doorway into a long corridor and down a flight of steps.  It was cooler here. It must be in the basement.  Master Hazen stopped at one of the many narrow doorways along the corridor, turned the heavy handle and pushed it open, not without some effort.  It was about twelve feet square with a very small window up near the high ceiling.  A cot, a bureau, a curious chair thing and a clothes closet were the only things in the room except for the stout hooks affixed to various locations on the walls and ceiling.  A single bright light bulb lit the room but she noticed no switch for it.

"This is where you will stay at all times except when your presence is required by the Members elsewhere.  When you are called, you will respond immediately and when you are released you will return immediately and directly here.  Do you understand?"

"Isn't there a TV or something for me to do in here," she asked innocently.  Her reward was a slap in the face.  Not too hard but shocking in its suddenness.

"You will speak only when spoken to by a Member!" Master Hazen spoke sharply.  "We will decide when and how we wish to entertain you.  And that little slap," he noted the redness where she was holding her cheek, "was not what we are talking about in the way of pain.  As a first example I will show you.  Come here." He walked over to the chair and sat down.  "Bend over my knees with your feet and hands touching the floor.  Do not lift either off the floor until I instruct you to, or we will resume from the beginning."

So here it was, her first punishment, a spanking.  She was being treated like a little girl.
She obeyed, almost laughing at the juvenile nature of it all.

"I will give you just twelve strokes this time, but remember, if you lift a hand or foot off the floor we begin again." He lifted her full skirt ......up to her shoulders.  She had not expected this, but caught herself just as she was about to reach back to cover herself again. She felt humiliated already but realized she at least still had her panties on.

The first stroke was severe and she cried out at the very unexpected degree of pain.  Again she almost lifted her hands.  It could not be just his hand could it?  The second one was almost as bad but at least she knew what was coming.  They got worse.  She started to cry. Each one drew an agonized scream from her and wracking sobs between blows. Between each one he rested his hand on her inflamed buttocks1 gently kneading them.  She hardly noticed the subtle fondling in the midst of the blows.  At the tenth, she wondered if she could stand another.  She begged and cried and moaned as she realized it was coming.  The scream was as loud as she could make.  She sobbed and sagged.  She felt totally defeated, she could not resist and longer.  But there was only one more, if she could just hold her feet and hands down.  The pain subsided slightly and she knew she could make it because as soon as the twelfth blow fell she could reach back to sooth herself.  When it fell she felt like she had won because she had maintained her obedience.  But she was not anxious to repeat the test.

"You did very well, Marcy," Hazen commented.  "I see you have come to realize you deserve some punishment." She was sobbing brokenly now and still rubbing her buttocks, but didn't dare respond.

"Now you will dress in the uniform we have provided.  You will note that it is somewhat uncomfortable both physically and perhaps psychologically which is of course its purpose.  When you have changed, you will bring all of your present clothes to the "Session Room" at the end of the corridor.  You will knock and await further instructions." He abruptly left and closed the door behind him.

The only thing in the closet was a maid's outfit.  It was too tight, of thin scratchy wool, had a very short skirt, and curious velcro patches scattered around it.  Worst of all she had found no underwear.  She got into it and felt not only uncomfortably bound up but embarrassingly over exposed.  She was supposed to go out among the Members and other men in this?  What if she had to bend over too far or the wind blew.  She looked down at her breasts and could detect the nipples even in this warm room.  What would she be showing out in the cooler corridor and the "Sessions Room" whatever that was?  Then she realized that this emotional discomfort was part of the plan.  But how far would they go? What would she be required to do next?  Her apprehension mixed with a tingling sensation of excitement.  She had to ignore the feelings and follow orders.  She put on the black five inch heels.

She knocked on the Session Room door with her old clothes as instructed. There was no response.  She knocked again.  No response.  She pushed on the door and its massive weight budged only slightly but it did move. There was no sound from within.  Slowly it swung open from her pressure. Curiously she stepped in.  There was all sorts of devices, chairs, racks, chains, whips.  She gasped, realizing this was actually something of a torture chamber.  She turned to leave and turned right into Master Hazen standing behind her.

"You have disobeyed," he said simply.  "You will be punished later. Come with me." He lead her out of the room, up the stairs and into a large toilet room.  It was covered with old dirty tiles, and bits of paper towels, and stains.  One of the Members was using one of the urinals along the wall.  Her presence caused no reaction.

"You will clean this room starting with the urinals then the toilet bowls, then the walls,    then the floors. Cleaning gear is in this closet. Then return to your room. Do not stop until it is completely clean." He left without further comment.

And that was it.  She was in the men's room, feeling half naked, alone and destined to be there for several hours.  Fortunately she thought, there was no one else there.  She got the cleaning gear from the closet and started on the first urinal.  She knelt down to spray the cleaner and began wiping the exterior surface.  The pubic hairs in the bowl and on the edge disgusted her, but she knew she would have to clean them eventually.

She was reaching into the bowl from one side to wipe them out when another Member she had never seen, stepped into the room and saw her kneeling there.  He smiled with amused delight and walked right up to that urinal.  She moved to get out of the way, but he stopped her. "That's Okay, just stay there and continue when I'm through."

She paled as he unzipped his fly, pulled out his penis and began to urinate not a foot from her face.  In shock, she at first just stared at his penis, not quite comprehending that she was almost touching a strange man's naked organ.  The blush passed over her in a flash and she turned away carefully so as not to upset the Member, and so as to avoid giving him ideas.  He eventually shook off the last drops, zipped his fly, and turned away without flushing, saying, "Make sure you clean that up real good now," with a smile.

She was indeed, she reflected, merely a cleaning apparatus: a functional element without being considered as a real person by the Members.  That was one of the most uncomfortable situations she had ever been in.  She had better hurry if she didn't want it to recur.

As she began to work on the furthest urinal, a great fart belched out from one of the stalls.  She was not alone.  The Member emerged from the stall, glanced at her with smirk and said, "I'll leave a big shit in there for a little shit to clean up." He laughed and left the room.

That made her angry.  They were making fun of her.  The energy of anger helped her finish before others came into the room.  It was pretty good she admitted to herself as she surveyed the newer looking room.  I wonder what they will think?

She returned to her little room and closed the door.  To her surprise a metallic click followed and she discovered herself locked in.  She was too tired to care much and lay down and was quickly asleep.

For the next two days she learned the layout of the mansion and settled into the routine, doing mundane things in her skimpy outfit, constantly maneuvering awkwardly to prevent the hem of her short skirt from coming up too high and revealing too much privates when she bent over.  In the morning and afternoon she lived in a very modest separate apartment with her daughter.  She pick the little girl up from the day-care bus in front of the building at 5 o’clock, fed her, read to her or played games, and put her to bed at 8:30.  By 9:00 she was in her “cell” as she called it in the mansion ready for the evening’s assignments.  By 6:00 a.m. she was back in the apartment ready to get the girl off to day-care for the day, during which she would again be subject to the dictates of the Brotherhood.

The AJF: Marcy Williams
 Chapter 3  -  AVAILABLE 

For the next two days she learned the layout of the mansion and settled into the routine, doing mundane things in her skimpy outfit constantly maneuvering awkwardly to prevent the hem of her short skirt from coming up too high and revealing too much privates when she bent over.  In the morning and afternoon she lived in a very modest separate apartment with her daughter.  She pick the little girl up from the day-care bus in front of the building at 5 o'clock  fed her, read to her or played games, and put her to bed at 8:30.  By 9:00 she was in her "cell" as she called it in the mansion ready for the evening's assignments.  By 6:00 a.m. she was back in the apartment ready to get the girl off to day-care for the day, during which she would again be subject to the dictates of the Brotherhood.

On the third day, shortly after she had arrived in the evening, the speaker on the wall of her room commanded her to go to room 318.  She did not know what that room was for but she did know where it was.  She arrived and knocked on the door.  Master Hazen commanded her to enter.  "Come here," he said simply.  The magnetism of his eyes was strong, but she only glanced at him as she entered, then with much effort held her eyes down in submissive glance, then stood close before him.

Without drama or comment he reached up and placed his hand on her breast.  Involuntarily she recoiled.  "Stop that.  What are you doing? You can't do that."

He did not react, only repeated calmly, "Come here, and stay here," pointing to the floor in front of him.  His calm assurance unnerved her. She was confused.  He had fondled her.  What could she do?  What should she do?  She realized that in effect, he could do anything he wanted to her.  She just hoped he wouldn't get too angry and do something terrible.  She approached him with her arms across her chest and stood there.  "Put you hands at your side and keep them there." He was going to do it again!  What could she do?

She was scared. "But you can't do that.  It isn't fair."

"Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"Yes," she responded emphatically, before she realized what it meant.

"Good.  Hands down." She slowly complied.  He again calmly placed his hand on her breast.  She flushed deeply, but did not move.  He massaged it with his large hand, and a tear trickled down her cheek.  He felt her trembling a little.  His other hand grasped the other breast through her thin maid's outfit.  "Your breasts are nice and firm," he complimented. This embarrassed her even more.  He took his hands away.  Her nipples were fully erect, showing through the material.  "Nice nipples, too," he added, lingering with a finger tip on each one.  This elicited a sob of humiliation.

"You realize," he continued, “that I can fondle your tits whenever I want don't you?”

That broke her self control.  She finally rebelled at all this demeaning work and the humiliation she had been subjected to in the last few days. "No!  You can't do that.  I won't put up with it. You can't make me do all this shit!  I won't submit!  I won't!"

"That’s not the correct attitude," he replied calmly.  She had not been prepared for a mild response.  She was ready for a fight.  She felt defiant.  She was off guard.  He grabbed her wrist suddenly and jerked her forward.  While she was off balance he clamped the wrist into a leather bracelet attached to a rope.  He pulled on the rope and she found herself almost lifted off the ground by one arm.

"No, you can't do this!  Let me down!"

Another Member entered the room.  "What's this commotion?  Your noise has disturbed me." He stared at Marcy threateningly.  "Keep silent!"

"But he attacked me!  Help me!"

The other Brother lost his patience.  He reached for a nearby riding whip and slashed it across her side.  She screamed out wildly, trying to protect herself with her free hand.  Ten blows later, she was crying and pleading hysterically, splits appearing on her uniform arms, body and buttocks where welts were already rising.  The other Member paused. "Would you like some more?"

"No, please, no," she gasped.

"My name is Master Jack.  Apologize to me."

"I'm sorry Master Jack.  I promise not to disturb you again."

Master Jack turned to Master Hazen.  "Hasn't she been instructed on the proper forms yet?"

"She's only been here three days," Master Hazen explained. “I was just starting.  Would you like to watch?"

Master Jack shrugged.

"I'll stick around for a little."

"Now, Marcy," Master Hazen continued, "I was just commenting that you had taken the wrong attitude.  I was about to instruct you otherwise. I was planning on punishing you for the fun of it, but now I have a reason."

As she whimpered in fear, he fastened her legs, tight together at the bottom of a tall horse fixed in the floor.  He tied her hands into the wall in front of her so she was bent over at the waist with her torso stretched out in front of her.  Lifting her short skirt over her waist he commented, "Master Jack, doesn't she have a well formed ass?"

Marcy realized that for the first time, men were staring at her naked buttocks, and commenting crudely on them as if she were a piece of sculpture.  She realized that the man who had just tortured her was enjoying her embarrassment.  He could probably even see some of her privates below her bent over ass cheeks.  She blushed and whimpered in shame.

The whipping was accomplished with twenty strokes with a belt, delivered half by each of the Masters.  Periodically they would pause and fondle each buttock to assess the welts and soreness.  She was sobbing and screaming so much that the mortification was not fully felt.

“Now, as I was saying before, you realize that I can fondle your breasts anytime I want don't you Marcy?"

She couldn't respond.  If she said yes she would lose.  If she said no it would be a lie, because she knew he had the power to if he wanted to, and it would only draw more beating.  Another belt stroke drew another scream.  Still she gritted her teeth stubbornly.  Another stroke broke her.  She realized it didn't matter.  That she would just be beaten repeatedly until she agreed.  "Yes, yes," she blurted out to avoid more pain.

"Good." Master Hazen reached below her torso and squeezed her breast. She did not react.  He continued to fondle both breasts through the fabric while master Jack watched and smiled.

"Now you must learn the correct form of response to all questions you are asked.  You must first give the short answer to the question then repeat the question.  For example, the proper answer to the question I asked would be, 'Yes, Master, you can fondle my breasts anytime you want.' Let's try again: I can fondle your breasts anytime I want can't I Marcy?"

Haltingly she repeated between sobs, "Yes, Master, you can fondle my breasts any time you want."

"Very good, Marcy.  Now would you like me to replace your skirt so Master Jack cannot see your naked buttocks?"

"Yes, Master, I would like you to replace my skirt so Master Jack cannot see.." she hesitated, struggling with the humiliating admission, "my naked buttocks."

"If I untie you will you behave and obey properly?"

"Yes, Master, if you untie me, I will behave and obey properly."

He untied her and she stood up, immediately rubbing her inflamed rear, and wiping the tears from her face, still with the occasional sob.

"By the way, I think Master Jack would like you to acknowledge that he can also fondle your breasts anytime he wants also."

It was not quite a command, but she knew now that she would be subject to the belt or worse again if she refused.  But this was someone she had never met before.  When would this end?  What other humiliating things were they going to submit her to?  She looked at Master Jack who was just standing there with a knowing smirk on his face.  She hated him! But she knew, as he did, that she really had no choice.  They both knew that he would soon be feeling her breasts.

"Yes, Master," she hung her head.

"Remember the training you just had?"

"Yes, Master, Master Jack can fondle by breasts anytime he wants."

“I think he wants to know how much you would like him to fondle them.”

The tears began again but without the sobs, just the trickle down the cheek.  Accompanied by the small moan, Marcy forced out the words: "Master Jack, I would like it very much if you would fondle my breasts anytime you want." Giving in to the spirit of her submission, she added, "It would please me if you were to fondle my breasts now."

"You learn quickly, Subject," Master Jack responded as he stepped forward and roughly grabbed her breasts.  She stood quietly sobbing while he mauled her.  "This really is pretty artificial," he commented, reaching around to loosen her blouse.  The tight blouse fell off her shoulders and down to her waist, revealing her naked perfectly formed 34C breasts. She moaned in humiliated agony again but did not move.  He resumed the fondling.  He and Master Hazen commented crudely about the shape and size of her nipples and breasts in general, while she stood there naked to the waist in front of them.  They pulled and stretched her nipples and jiggled her breasts, thoroughly enjoying playing with their new toys.

"Are you feeling uncomfortable, Marcy?" Master Hazen asked.

She could hardly believe he was asking.  She glanced up at him incredulously and into his eyes through her teary eyes.  She could not see him clearly but quickly glanced down.  She nodded, then remembered:
"Yes, Master, I am feeling uncomfortable."

"Why are you uncomfortable?"

What was this?  They knew what she was upset about.  But of course this was more of the "treatment" to degrade her.  She had to answer.  "Master I feel uncomfortable because men I don't know are staring at me half naked and feeling my breasts and I don't want them to be doing it," she sobbed again, embarrassed by the frankness of her admission.

"Very good.  You may dress and return to your room now." Without hesitation she complied.  When she had left, Master Jack said, "Nice specimen.  You're going to have a lot of fun with her."

"I know," Master Hazen smiled back.

Back in her "cell" Marcy broke down sobbing, feeling desperately sorry for herself   What had she done to deserve this humiliation.  It wasn't fair.  They were almost raping her.  That wasn't part of the bargain. How could she get out of this.  She thought of how she could escape. The more she thought, the more depressed she became.  She realized that it would be next to impossible to escape with her daughter because of the control they always had of the little girl.  When they were alone together it was always in the secured apartment.  Maybe someday when they were permitted to go on a trip together or to a playground.  In the meantime, her thoughts returned to her ordeal and what it meant.  The future possibilities frightened her.  She could hardly think of them. How had she gotten into this?

She began to think of her crime, the process she had gone through and the commitment she had made.  She remembered the admonition of the Board, how she had caused pain and suffering to others.  She began to feel guilty again.  Maybe she did deserve this.  Maybe she was not worthy of being offended by the Masters treatment of her.  Maybe they should be humiliating her into an attitude more oriented toward serving her fellow man than herself.  She was feeling like she had betrayed the rest of the entire human race.  That she was guilty of unforgivable arrogance.

After all, she had agreed to it and they had said it would be painful and humiliating.  It certainly had been all that so far and it was only the third day!  She began to feel like she had accomplished something through the ordeal she had just survived.  Maybe this was a truly cleansing experience.  Maybe she really did deserve all this pain and humiliation.  She would be a far stronger and better person because of it.  She would understand the true meaning of service which after all was the basis of the advancement of the human race, wasn't it?

Her ordeal and the subsequent thoughts had taken a toll on her and she drifted into an exhausted sleep, which Master Hazen was glad to give her.  He had plans for her tomorrow.

The AJF: The Marcy Williams Story
  
Chapter 4 -  EXPOSED
The living conditions were actually rather civilized, even during her "duty" hours. She shared meals with five other girls apparently undergoing the same kind of alternative sentencing, but she was not allowed to speak with them. They wore the same black and white maid's costume with its funny velcro patches. They ate what was served without comment. One day they were served beef stew but provided with no utensils. Since they were unable to ask questions or speak to one another, the girls just looked at each other with questioning eyes. As the time wore on, the food cooled and they were almost out of lunch time, one girl simply picked up the messy stew in her fingers. The other followed suit and scraped out their bowls the same way. Henceforth food was always served into their one bowl and they always ate with their fingers. washing the bowl and their hands afterwards and replacing the bowl into their own cubby hole. She noticed that occasionally there was a powder or a liquid in the bottom of some bowls when they arrived for meals, and which the girls mixed with their food, but she had never had any.
She was required to keep herself clean and well made up. A makeup table, clothes hooks, a chair and a bed were all the furniture provided. Two TV cameras were in opposite corners at the ceiling, which followed her as she moved about the cell, even to the toilet. There were pictures on the walls of females in various positions of servitude, that she had to change daily. Some kind of soft boring music always played in the background, and there was a musky odor almost like sweat often present.
Cleaning, sharing in the food preparation, and polishing of various pieces of peculiar equipment throughout the Mansion were her normal assignments. She was afraid of the equipment because they looked like forms of torture devices, often with sexual overtones, due to the shapes and locations of some of the pieces.
Throughout the day, she would run across various Masters going about whatever it was that they did, who would question her, as a test of her subjugation. She had learned the litany of how she must respond to them, through the painful lesson inflicted upon her by Master Hazen:
"Master, I am Marcy Williams. I am a Subject of the Brotherhood. I am solely and completely a servant and plaything of the Brotherhood, for the purpose of training me to serve my fellow man without regard to my own pleasure, because of my selfish transgressions of the past."  It had been quite a task to accept the "plaything" part. She finally convinced herself, out of necessity, to believe that the "plaything" involved the whimsical application of humiliation and pain upon her by the Members as an aspect of the psychological punishment she had agreed to. She continued, "A Subject is used for the physical and mental entertainment of Members of the Brotherhood and others whom Members choose to designate as worthy of the Subject's service. A Subject shall obey a Member fully and instantly, without hesitation at any time, any place. and under any circumstances. A Subject is without will of her own, serving only the needs of the Members." The part about “a will of her own” caused her to wonder if only women were “subjects” since she had never seen any males in her position.
Indeed, several times while pursuing her tasks, she was interrupted by a Member who would require her to do some odd cleaning task, often requiring her to use an awkward position, usually resulting in the exposure of her naked buttocks and, she suspected, probably her pubic area, although none of them ever touched her or mentioned  it.
Master Frank appeared before her as she was cleaning the food preparation dishes one day after lunch, with two other girls. "Face me," he commanded. He then slid the straps to her uniform over her shoulders and pulled it down to her waist, baring her breasts.
"No," she cried instinctively covering herself. She stared up at him, at once fearful of what he could do to her, and in fact of what she had done also. "Don't,” She began to pull the outfit back up again. He stopped her. She glanced at another girl who was watching but the girl quickly looked away.
He grabbed her arm hard but did not otherwise threaten her. She knew however what it meant. She froze. Was she again going to be fondled and humiliated by another Master, and this time in front of her other prisoner friends?
"You have disobeyed me. You have not obeyed instantly and without hesitation as you are required to do. You will therefore perform your duties henceforth without benefit of the top portion of your outfit." Her face paled. Was he really going to make her walk around in front of everyone exposing her breasts? She could not imagine willingly exhibiting herself. Tears swelled into her eyes. She desperately wanted to plead with him, but knew she was not allowed to speak. Maybe he would relent if she was particularly obedient to him now. She sank to her knees, pulling the outfit down and baring breasts. She looked up at him with pleading watery puppy eyes. "Getup," he commanded in disgust. "No one told you to kneel!" She had defeated herself again. She rose with bowed head.
He began to remove the special section of the outfit secured by velcro covering her front. She had noticed those pieces before and remembered hoping that this was not the purpose. She turned pink. She suspected he could see the flush pass onto her breasts.
"You have very attractive nipples." The other girls in the room watched inconspicuously but continued to clean up while she suffered. "I like the way the areola has a slight swell to it before it meets the nipple," he continued matter-of-factly stroking his finger adjacent to her nipple, to accentuate her nakedness and his power over her, She felt her nipples begin to swell and a slight tingling sensation shot through her body with the flush. Could she be feeling a sexual stimulation in this public fondling?
His hands explored the rest of her breasts. He sucked one nipple into his mouth and pulled. Her hands moved up and down on her sides in a frustrated attempt to do something but not daring to stop him. "I can fondle your breasts anytime I want, can't I?"
"Yes, Master Frank, you may fondle my breasts anytime you want."
"Any Master or their guests can fondle your breasts anytime they want can't they, Subject Marcy?"
This was the first time she realized that she was a sexual subject required to submit to the ministrations of almost everyone in the Mansion whenever they wanted. At least they hadn't raped her, but she wondered how long that would be? Again a tingling mixed with resignation passed through her and her shoulders sagged. "Yes, Master Frank, any Master or their guests can fondle my breasts anytime they wish," she admitted with as sigh.
"When you have finished here, take these patches in your hands and return with them to your cell, and give them to Master Hazen. when he next calls you. You will not put them back on.
The cleaning, even though she was bare breasted, took an extra long time that night. The other two girls, who would not meet her eyes, had finished shortly after her episode with Master Frank. Finally, fearing even worse treatment from Master Hazen if she returned too late, she forced herself to walk out into the hallway toward her cell. Her breasts felt like neon lights, flashing at everyone she passed. At first they stared at her breasts, then to her face and back again. Then she could not see the reaction from the other Subjects and Masters with their guests whom she passed because the tears of humiliation in her eyes blurred their faces. She stared straight ahead during the rest of her five minute walk to her cell. She fell on her bed and burst into tears without even looking around.
What were they doing to her? What was to become of her? What more had they in mind? She had obeyed the rules so well she thought and had done her duties conscientiously. How much more humiliation could they dump on her and how much could she stand? She dreaded the answer to both those questions. How much humiliation did she really deserve for her crimes? She had not realized it would be this bad, but then maybe she did deserve this psychological pain. She had after all made others suffer from her own selfishness. And while the humiliation was painful there was something about it which felt somehow cleansing, as if she really was shedding some of her guilt. She was making amends. She was paying the price to make herself worthy once more.
"I have heard that you were disobedient to one of the Masters today," Master Hazen said quietly, but it startled her anyway. His voice was frighteningly calm and low as he sat next to her. "You must learn to accept humiliation readily and without question, as you agreed. Do you remember?"
"Yes, Master," she responded automatically. She wanted to say that she had no idea that it would be this difficult or this....humiliating. But she knew she had agreed. She knew there was no way out, no way she could object, no way she could resist anything the Masters wanted her to do. She pushed into the back of her mind all the things she knew they could do to her. as if not thinking it would prevent it from happening. At the same time these vague ideas seemed both frightening and exhilarating, as if she was contemplating stealing candy from the candy jar as a child. After all it wasn't her fault that she had to expose herself, they had made her do it, she wasn't responsible, she couldn't help being a naughty little slut.
"Come here, sit on my lap facing me," Master Hazen said ominously. She approached him slowly, noticing the small box he had in his hand as he sat on the armless wooden chair. In order to straddle his legs which were about a foot apart, she had to spread her legs as she sat. She nervously sensed the cool air below her and knew her privates were open below her skirt. But she was most conscious of his smirk as he stared at her naked breasts. "They are quite nice." he commented as he absently fondled them. She blushed but her arms hung by her sides while he amused himself.
I wonder if this gets him excited, she thought. And just as quickly she realized that it was in fact getting her excited as well. And it wasn't just the sexual fondling, but the fact that she couldn't do anything to stop him from doing it if he wanted to.
As if reading her mind, he asked, “Does this excite you sexually?”
My God, she thought, what do I have to admit to this man? What kind of intimate feelings is he going to make me admit? She had to answer quickly and not having any alternate plan, she said simply, "Yes, Master, your fondling of my breasts excites me sexually." She had never openly stated such a thing before to any man.
“Is your vagina getting moist?”
She flushed and again felt the vulnerability of her pubic area. Her whole being revolved around her vagina now. How could he ask such a question and so matter-of-factly too? But that was part of it wasn't it?  He was supposed to ask her embarrassing questions. All she could do was answer truthfully: "I.... I don't know, Master."
"Then find out!" he responded with some annoyance, while he continued his attentions to her swelling mammaries.
He's actually asking me to feel myself, she realized with astonishment. Even though her loins were hidden from view, she had never felt more naked. He is going to be watching me feel my own pussy. How bizarre this is having no power over the exploitation of my own genitals.  She slowly reached beneath her skirt and felt between her labia. "Yes. Master, my vagina is moist”, she responded. Then wondered what action from him such an admission might elicit.
“Is the physical stimulation the only thing exciting you?”
It wasn't an aggressive sexual move as she had feared, just another question, but one which she had just been reviewing in her head. How had he known such a thing? How could he ask her to state out loud what she was just beginning to realize herself? And an admission she didn’t know the truth of herself.
His thumb and forefingers clamped hard on each nipple. She screamed. The words flooded out of her mouth without strategy or purpose: "Master, I am also feeling sexually excited by the realization that I am powerless to stop any advancement or command you might make regarding my genitals. It excites me to think of what you might do to me which I would be unable to resist. I don't understand it. I am afraid of my feelings. I am afraid of giving in to my sex urges.”
“What do you think I might do to you?”
"You....,” she stammered and paused. She struggled with the words, with the admission out loud of what she feared and yearned for at the same time. Her arousal was now obvious to her. How could this helpless humiliation be sexually stimulating? Yet somehow it was, she could feel it. "You might rape me, Master," she finally managed. realizing now that she was really getting wet.
“Do you think I am going to do that?”
What kind of a question was that? She was trapped! A "yes' would be asking him to rape her and she was sure he would. Or she felt deep down that he should (were those really her thoughts, she asked herself?). If she answered "no", it might push him into doing it just to show his power over her. Finally she just sobbed and said honestly. "I don't know, Master."
"But I could rape you if I wanted to?"
"Yes, Master," again the uncomfortable pause followed by the full statement as required, "you could r..rape me if you wanted to." What had she just said?! She felt she had just been trapped into giving him permission to fuck her whenever he wanted to! But there was nothing she could say now, and nothing she could say or do in any case.
"Good," he responded. "as long as we understand each other." She wasn't quite sure how to take that but guessed that he was accepting her invitation to fuck her. How had she gotten into this? What could she do? What would she want to do?
He placed a heavy leather wrist band above each hand and attached the chains to the side of his chair, so she could not move them inside of his legs or above her waist. The vulnerability of her exposed labia made her anxious but he did not approach them.
The continued stimulation of her breasts had hardened the nipples. He toyed with them thoughtfully, then opened the box and took out two spring loaded clothes pins. She gasped. "This is your punishment for not immediately submitting to Master Frank this afternoon." He placed one fully on her right nipple and let go. She screamed and struggled. She rose and tried to lean down to allow her hand to remove it, but Master Hazen just pulled the end of the clothespin away gently and guided her back onto his lap.
"Oh please, no, it hurts too much. Take it off. Please take it off, Master Hazen. It will crush my nipple! Please, Master!" She sobbed and moaned.
He grasped the other breast and repeated the procedure before she could move to avoid it. The cry was more miserable than surprised this time.
"You will get used to it in a few minutes." Master Hazen responded calmly. "Now let's see if you really are as excited as you say.
The pain in Marcy's nipples blurred the intent of his remark for a moment until he lifted her skirt in front and tucked it into her waist. He was actually looking at her naked pubic area which was wide open to his gaze. To accentuate that, he widened his legs a bit, resulting in greater exposure for her most private parts. In shame she tried to cover herself with her hands and found them secured out of effective range, but they did waive vainly in the attempt.
His hand slid down toward her loins and she rose to escape this most humiliating contact. Again she was gently guided back to his lap with the clothespins. She sobbed in resignation as his fingers slid along the most tender and personal part of her body, discovering their swollen condition and dripping wetness. She was his toy now, she thought. He was just playing with her. He could do anything he wanted with her whenever he wanted and he was just having fun teasing her now. When would he get it over with and just rape her. It wasn't fair to tease her like this. Besides, she had to admit to herself now, she was aching for him to penetrate. Her loins were moving involuntarily to meet his hands. She had lost control. He was in total control. She was totally frustrated.
Here she was at the height of sexual passion, naked in front of a man who could do anything he wanted to her (and she yearned against herself that he would). But yet he made no attempt to respond to her obvious arousal. She wondered if he were impotent. Had they selected the masters because they could not rape?
He removed his hand. "Quite excited I see. Just calm down now or you will receive some real pain. Now keep your hands at your sides," he warned as he released her wrists. More pain was not what she wanted right now in spite of her arousal. But the pain in her nipples seemed to have vanished! At least now that her attention was returning to them it didn't feel so bad. She kept her hands at her sides. Master Hazen retrieved the box of clothes pins and said, "Now place six more of these around each breast," and handed her the box.
She looked at him incredulously, but he didn't blink. She knew she was being required to torture herself some more. She winced and whimpered and moaned at each placement, mumbling in a half tone to herself about "no, no, please, don't make me" finally sobbing as the last one was placed. It was all she could do to remain composed. Her hands jumped up and down in frustration at her sides but quickly stopped as the bouncing created more pain.
"Very good," Master Hazen commented easily as she stood there suffering. She couldn't wait for him to take them off. " Now you will take a nap until your duty period is over. Lie on your back and do not touch the clothespins under any conditions. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Master, I will lie on my back and not touch the clothespins," just to please him, but she could not believe he was going to leave them on her while she took a nap, (as if she could sleep). Could she stand it? Curiously they had stopped hurting quite so much. Maybe it was possible to survive this way. 
"One more thing," Master Hazen added. "By virtue of your crime, you have, as you are aware, lost your right to privileges and rights which civilized society uses to establish stature, privacy and protection. You have accepted the role during your sentence of subservience and unworthiness. One of the ways which society provides for stature and decorum is to provide each member with privacy in their daily activities and dress. Since you do not deserve such privacy, you have forfeited the right to wear clothing to protect your privacy, your modesty, if you will. As a result, you will henceforth wear no clothing and perform all of your private functions, in the public arena. You will sleep naked without covering sheets or blankets. You will be instructed on the proper procedures tomorrow. Until then you are forbidden to perform any private functions, including toileting. For now, remove your remaining clothing. I will take them away and your top sheet and other outfits when I leave."
She was already mostly naked and had lost all modesty to this Master so the removal of her present outfit was not too much of a problem. But when she contemplated what this meant for her daily activities and duties throughout the Mansion in the coming days she was stunned. It was horrible enough to walk down the hallways this afternoon with her breasts exposed to everyone, but now to be totally naked....!
Master Hazen gathered her clothing and left without another word. She lay back on the bed, with the clothespins tormenting her breasts and was glad to relax.  She thought of the next day naked, of today's humiliation and fondling by another Master, her Master's fondlings and toying with her labia. Her loins began to warm. She felt where his hands had been down there. The cameras watched. The clothespins swayed rhythmically. She masturbated.

The AJF: Marcy Williams
Chapter 5 - SHAVED
While she lay on the cot as she had been instructed twelve hours ago, Marcy pondered what had come over her. Why had she gotten so excited by the pain and humiliation? Why had she actually masturbated? Especially right after he said not to perform private functions.  And why had she felt so peaceful and content afterward, even with the painful clothespins still in place? She stared at the ceiling, her gaze drifting to the cameras. Had someone watched, or worse: recorded all that had happened? Had they watched her masturbate? What would they think of her? Would they punish her for it? That thought elicited a faster heartbeat of apprehension and, to her intense curiosity, a tingling in her loins, overridden only by the intense pressure on her bladder. The throbbing around the clothespins on her breasts intensified. What was happening to her?
Suddenly the door opened and Master Frank strode into the room without hesitation. He grabbed the clothespin on her left nipple and pulled hard. "Sit up." She cried at the sudden pain and sat up instantly. He cupped both breasts and jiggled them. She groaned at the pain. "Time for these to come off and for your instructions on private functions before you are released for the day."
Oh, finally the pain will be gone, she thought, and I'll be able to see my daughter soon. Master Frank removed one pin. There was in fact a release of the pressure, but the pain she expected to go away, suddenly blossomed. She let out a chirp of surprised anguish. then gasped and shrank away slightly as he reached for a second pin. She sat there in stoic determination as he hurt her breasts each time a pin was removed. Finally they were all gone "Oh thank you Master Frank," she sighed in appreciation.
"Follow me," was his curt response. He left the room swiftly with her scrambling behind him to keep up. She had not paused to think of her totally naked condition until she found herself walking barefoot behind him, her eyes lowered in shame as she passed two other fully clothed girls and another Master. They went into a space adjacent to the Master's toilet facility she had cleaned several times. It was more like a wide corridor with a long platform on one side. A slight disinfectant smell met her senses as they approached the stairs to the platform.
The narrow walkway in the back led along a series of five or six projecting pairs of footrests. Suddenly she sensed that this was a toilet area, "Climb the steps." Master Frank said coldly. He walked down the corridor a few feet then faced one of the projections. "Come down here." She walked along the back of the platform to where he was, "Step out here on these foot rests and squat down." The foot rests were 30 inches apart. about 4 feet above the floor. As she squatted, she knew this was designed to humiliate. Her loins were gaping wide open to his gaze and he stared at her private parts to emphasize the point. "Since you have lost the right to any privacy, this is where you will eliminate from now on whenever you need to and only when you receive permission. After you urinate, you will come down from the platform and wash the urine away with this hose." He grasped a hose nozzle with a lever release handle adjacent to the stall. "After you defecate," he continued, "you will clean yourself with the water like this." He pressed the lever and sprayed the ice cold water at her loins. The shock completely startled her. She wailed, instinctively closing her legs, and slipped off the platform. Marcy landed safely on the tiled floor, but Master Frank continued to spray her.
"You will complete your cleaning while on the platform, you clumsy ass-hole." He chuckled to himself for his wordplay, then continued, "When you have finished you will come down from the platform and pick up the results with your hands and deposit them in this tray, in case we require you to use them later." He opened a hatch below the walkway at the back of the stall showing a stainless steel bowl with a lid. "You will then wash your hands and the floor with the hose."
Marcy was shivering with cold now. Aware of her erect nipples and total nakedness. The idea of going to the bathroom so publicly was shocking to her but the idea of having to pick up her shit in her hands was almost incomprehensible. And what did he mean by using her shit later? What kind of sick things did they have in mind.
Master Frank interrupted her thoughts. "Come here." She stood up and stopped in front of him, eyes downcast. He rolled both nipples between his thumb and forefinger "Do these feel better now?"
"Yes Master, my nipples feel better now.”
He placed his hand palm upward between her legs and pressed upward slightly. Her demeanor cringed but she stood resolutely in place. They just stood there motionless for almost a full minute. She was sure he was staring down at her breasts and enjoying her discomfort at the unavoidable intimacy. He began a slow opening and closing of his hand. squeezing her private (or formerly private) area lecherously.
"This stall is strictly reserved for you and you will be responsible for its cleanliness and its supply of fecal matter.... Now mount the platform and show me you know how to use it. I will tell you just when to start and when to stop.  Be prepared to obey instantly!”
Slowly she forced herself up to her stall eager to release the pressure in her bladder, placed her feet in the rests and squatted. She felt numb like a zombie. “Pee now” commanded Master Frank.  Without thought or emotion she tried to urinate, but even with her urgent need, the social pressure of having a man watch her was just too strong.
"Do the reluctant areas need some encouragement?" Master Frank suggested as he drew out a riding crop. He brushed its tip against her vagina gently, but Marcy was terrified at the prospect of him using it on her most tender part in this most exposed position.
"N, No, Master Frank," she stammered, struggling with her involuntary constriction, and desperately trying to make herself relaxed enough to perform. At the same time she wanted to tense up for the blow of the crop.  She looked fearfully at the riding crop. Finally a little dribble, and with that success a torrent emerged splashing onto the floor. Enormous relief flooded her at the first release of pressure but blushed at the total loss of privacy.   At the same time felt proud of herself for her self control and her ability to perform under threat.
“Stop....NOW!” commanded Master Frank after the first moment of full flow. At first she could not believe it but a slash of the riding crop at the offending area quickly convinced her otherwise.  It was incredibly difficult and somewhat painful she thought to actually stop peeing in mid stream, but she managed with a great effort, squeezing mightily with muscles she did not even know she had.  “Too slow.” he chastised.  You must practice that every time you pee.  Start urinating then stop completely several times before you are finished.  Is that clear?”
“Yes sir, it is clear that I must stop urinating several times each time I have to go.”
“Good. Now begin again”
This activity seemed part of the shaming and self denial she was being inflicted with but she did not really understand it. After two more “stops” she finished, then climbed down from the platform and sprayed herself briefly with the hose. She gasped at the cold shock in spite of herself, then sprayed the floor into the grating below her stall. The shivering nude hung up the hose and turned to face the Master, to await his next instructions.
Delight flooded through her when he released her for the day. This turned into shame as she saw two other masters had been watching. They were smiling and commenting quietly to each other. They had seen her spread open sex and watched her publicly perform a very private function. This she knew was far from her last humiliation. In spite of knowing its purpose, she still blushed at walking naked back to her cell, feeling the eyes of the people in the hallways, always upon her exposed genitals. Marcy once brushed a fly away from her pubic hair on the way. It was strangely comforting for her to realize that she was in fact not completely naked: her public hair actually hid some of her labia. She felt smug. She had outfoxed them. She did actually have some privacy (except at the toilet) in spite of them.
Wasn't it strange, she reflected over the next day or so while she walked naked through the hallways going about her duties, that she should get used to the humiliation of publicly exposing herself, of accepting the loss of privacy, of even accepting to some degree her total subservience to whoever wanted something of her. In fact, one time two men - they weren't even Masters - had stopped her in the hallway to fondle her for a while. She had just stood there and let them explore her. She probably would not have objected even if they had tried to rape her, a thought that started that tingling in her loins again. They asked her name and how long she was here for. They spoke to each other as if she wasn't there about her physical attributes and how those would be put to use during various graphically described sex acts they planned to perform on her. They required her to position herself and to move in various ways to more advantageously expose herself and to test various positions they thought might be useful when the later made use of her. Their hands explored everywhere and did not pause for passing Members or Subjects who occasionally stopped to watch. She had just accepted herself as a piece of their property not even knowing who they were. She had not even blushed at being observed by other fully clothed people.
The next morning. Master Hazen was back. He took her to a table at the end of her new toilet room. "Your privacy has been almost totally removed. We cannot do it all at once because of the emotional shock, as I am sure you understand. Have you practices your urine control?”
“Yes Master Frank I have practiced my urine control each time.”  Indeed she had, finding it difficult but not impossible when she knew she must.
“Have you gotten used to being unworthy of privacy?" He saw the hesitation in her eyes. "Have you become used to being naked in front of everyone?" He added to help her along.
Almost without thinking she responded, "Yes, Master, I have become used to being naked in front of everyone." Had she really said that? Was it true? Had she so completely lost her privacy, her personal identity, that she could appear naked in front of anyone without embarrassment? Well, not quite she knew, but it certainly was nothing like the traumatic experience of the first time.
"You have lost the right, as you know, to any kind of privacy. Your clothes represented a great deal of that. but we must now take care of one last area of modesty. Lie down on your back on the table near this end and spread your legs. I will now remove your pubic hair, since we do not want any possible feelings on your part that your vagina is not completely and fully exposed to everyone at all times.
This statement struck her as the last blow. Up to now she had somehow hidden behind a screen of imagined privacy in the knowledge that her hair had indeed hidden her from total exposure. She felt totally defeated; the tears rolled down her face and a gasping sob escaped her as she very slowly approached the table. She yearned desperately for some sympathy; for some minute evidence of compassion from Master Hazen; for some symbolic trace of her own dignity. In spite of herself, she raised her pleading eyes toward her Master and sobbed, "Please not that Master, anything but that.” and immediately broke down into deep sobs. She stood by the table unable to move further.
She felt a hand cup her breast gently, but no words were forthcoming. Maybe there was a spark of care in there somewhere, she thought, even while he pressed her toward the table. What had to be, had to be, but she grasped upon this grain of compassion. It was easier to mount the table with the possibility that there was a real personal concern in there.
Master Hazen shaved her very close and without lubrication. Her loins were red and sensitive. They seemed to proclaim their existence. "There," he concluded. "your vagina is totally exposed now isn't it?"
"Yes, Master," Marcy responded woodenly, "my vagina is completely exposed now.”
During the rest of the day wherever she went in her duties, it seemed to Marcy as if there were invisible signs or gremlins pointing at her vagina and shouting at people to stare at it. It was still raw and red from the shaving and she knew it was obvious. She began to feel as if it didn't matter, as if nothing mattered. She went about her duties like a robot, performing to the letter of her requirements and not more. Her self pride, her initiative were gone. She didn't feel she could do anything for herself anymore. All of her activities were programmed for her by an outside force.  It became a total change of world when she arrived for her duty periods and surrendered any semblance of a free will. She hardly even looked forward to the end of the duty periods until they were almost upon her. Only then would she begin to show signs of life and of interest, in her coming release to the "normal" world outside of her training, but still within the confines of the Mansion grounds.

The AJF: Marcy Williams
Chapter 6 - THE SHAFT
Have you learned your proper place amongst us, Subject Marcy?" Master Hazen was saying. Somehow she knew this was leading up to something new, something she had not yet been submitted to. Just by the roundabout way he was asking. She had grown to know his manner.
"Yes, Master Hazen, I know my place as a Subject of the Brotherhood." She was standing in her room at the foot of her bed, totally naked facing him as usual. But she really didn't know exactly what her "place" was, although she knew what they thought of her and how they were using and humiliating her. She was a virtual slave but thought she better not answer that, lest they think she was being fresh. Their meaning, she was sure, was much more sophisticated. After a pause she continued slowly thinking her words, "Master, a Subject of the Brotherhood is solely and completely a servant and plaything of the Brotherhood." She spoke the "covenant" she had learned with strength and conviction. "A Subject is used for the physical and mental entertainment of Members of the Brotherhood and others whom Members choose to designate as worthy of the Subject's service." She smiled inwardly with a smug satisfaction and pride that she had been able to surprise Master Hazen with her memorization of it. She felt almost worthwhile to him, as if she was helping to support his tasks for her at the Brotherhood.
"You are a good learner," he responded in her support. "You have learned your lesson by rote well. However, it must be enforced and ingrained in your mind until it is natural. Until it becomes a deep subconscious conviction that it becomes an irrefutable fact. Today we will begin to convince you to the depth of your being.... Follow me.”
He led her, quite humbly naked as usual - she was almost getting accustomed to it and taking a small pride in the attention which her genitals drew as opposed to those of the other Subjects - to a small room with chairs around the perimeter and a black 2 inch diameter shaft projecting upward about three feet from the floor in the center of the room. It arose out of a round steel plate in the floor. Its top was a red hemisphere and just below this, and along the sides of the shaft were a series of copper vertical ridges about four inches in length. Four steel rings were welded to the edge of the floor plate and other rings were secured a various other locations in the room. Along one wall were some electronic control devices much like a stereo console she thought.
"Blow me," he commanded simply and suddenly. She was caught off guard but obeyed, immediately sinking to her knees and taking his flaccid shaft into her mouth. It soon swelled and she felt herself enjoying the process. She did have some power. She could give a man an erection. She could even give him an orgasm. Marcy felt herself becoming slightly aroused herself. But before he ejaculated he withdrew and commanded her to stand again.
Master Hazen led her to the shaft. "Stay." He walked to the console. The shaft began to sink into the plate. "Move over the shaft." She now guessed that it would soon impale her. The shaft began to rise again. "Guide it into you."
It was fat and not lubricated. The shaft pressed painfully into her labia before she managed to get it to slip fully into her vagina, thanking her own arousal for the lubricant. It rose another four inches until the copper ribs were buried, stretching her organ uncomfortably but not painfully. Then it stopped, to her immense relief. She was standing in the middle of the room. flatfooted, hands by her sides with this ... Machine ...inside her. There was a kind of weird helpless feeling being impaled on a mechanical penis and she felt her own moisture at the excitement of it. But she was anxious because of its power and obvious mechanical potential to inflict harm. But she thought she could grab it or step off of it if necessary.
"Now let me explain the purpose of this exercise," Master Hazen said, rather like a second grade teacher Marcy thought. He slid back a panel behind which there was a large teleprompter. She had seen one once when she visited a newsroom a couple of years ago. "It is lesson time, Marcy, You will repeat everything that is displayed on this board. You will repeat every word as it is written without variation in a strong voice." As he spoke, Master Hazen walked behind Marcy and fastened her wrists together. "I will guide you for a while, but then I will leave. You will continue speaking your assigned statements. You performance will be monitored. If you vary from the text, lower your voice, or otherwise deviate from your duties you will be punished. Now begin reading.
She complied: "I am Marcy Williams. I am...
"Louder!" shouted Master Hazen, striking at her breast with his omnipresent riding crop.
She cried out in pain, but hurried on with her reading in a loud voice. "I am a worthless slut, I have no rights. I am completely at the disposal of the Members of the Brotherhood and their guests. I do not deserve to be an equal member of society. I have forfeited all my rights to control my mind or body. My will is the will of the Brotherhood." She paused because there was no more text at the moment.
"That is better, but don't speak any softer than that. The monitors will notice the volume change." Master Hazen came up close to her and began fondling her breasts rather gently and erotically she thought. He sucked on them, twirling the nipples with his tongue. Was he actually interested in her romantically? Or even carnally? Or was this just part of his job? She never had been able to figure it out. He stroked her buttock affectionately, then said, "This is to train you as to your proper place, your function, and your sacred duties. It is to teach you the Covenant, so that you can repeat to others what you are. It is your duty to learn your place and to tell others what you are.
"I must leave now, but the monitors will be listening. Oh yes, to make sure you don't get any ideas about getting off that thing, and to add a little incentive for the speedy completion of your assignment, I'll make a little adjustment." The phallus began to rise again. It pressed into her, touching the cervix and still continued to rise. Marcy's eyes became worried, and she let out a frightened and interrogatory groan, but did not say a word. She lifted herself to her tiptoes to relieve the weight. Just as she could not lift herself any more it stopped. She was at the top of her tiptoes, hands secured behind her back. She now realized that she could not get off, no matter what it did to her.
Master Hazen left and she resumed her monologue. "I am a Subject of the Brotherhood. A Subject of the Brotherhood is solely and completely a servant and plaything of the Brotherhood. A Subject is used for the physical and mental entertainment of Members of the Brotherhood and others whom Members choose to designate as worthy of the Subject's service. A Subject's mind shall spend all its waking time anticipating, planning for, and maximizing the satisfaction of the Member's needs and desires. A Subject's body and body cavities shall provide surfaces from which members derive pleasure. A Subject shall obey a Member fully and instantly, without hesitation at any time, any place, and under any circumstances. A Subject is without will of her own, serving only the needs of the Members."
She repeated the words as directed, wondering if anyone was really listening. Her calves began to ache. The physical exertion began to raise perspiration and heavier breathing. She continued to repeat the same words over an over as they appeared. Some thoughts occurred about the appropriateness of the contents but she could not concentrate on much but keeping her voice loud and blotting out the pain in her calf muscles. Surely they would cramp up soon. What would she do then? The phallus did not seem so huge now. She was almost getting used to it. Certainly the lubrication she was generating around it couldn't hurt. She began to think subconsciously of the object as the physical messenger of the covenant which she was so vigorously proclaiming aloud in her conscious efforts. The moisture grew along with the pain. Those two were becoming woven together: pain and sexual arousal. How could they exist together? she thought. Am I some weirdo? It was nice and it was awful. What a play on words, she mused in a sort of dreamlike sequence as she outwardly repeated her covenant.
But her attention had not kept up with the teleprompter and her volume had trailed off with her daydreaming. There was in fact, no one listening to her performance although there were occasional monitors just to keep her honest. However, the electronic circuits were programmed to monitor the decibel level in the room, activating a selection of capacitors when the volume fell below the required level. In this case the capacitor was attached to two widely separated copper ridges at the top of the phallus. The moisture generated by Marcy's arousal acted as an excellent conductor between the two ridges.
The electrical discharge within her vagina straightened every muscle of her body. She almost lost her footing and screamed out in agony. "No! No! Not again! I'll speak up I promise," she screamed out, crying and breathing heavily. Desperately she resumed her monologue, although unknown to her, she could have made any kind of noise.
A few minutes later, the phallus began to lower itself without warning. The words on the prompter stopped and her heels settled on the floor, but the Phallus did not lower any further. She was grateful nevertheless for the relief on her calves and worked her feet around, lifting her toes as best she could. The prompter came on again and she became apprehensive. She read loudly as directed, but the message was different this time.
"It is my function to be a receptacle for sperm. It is my goal to maximize the amount of sperm that is ejaculated into any and all cavities of my body. To that end it is my duty to encourage all penises to penetrate me in my mouth, my vagina, or my rectum." She began to think of this as sickening, degrading, and a crude manner of speech. She was slower in the repeating than the speed of the monitor. but this time Master Hazen was listening. "I am totally an object to be utilized for the sexual pleasure of others." Her lack of conviction was apparent. The phallus began to rise again. This stirred her to greater enthusiasm and volume. She fairly shouted the next portion of the text for fear of being shocked again. "I am a fuck-hole. I am to be fucked in my mouth and my cunt and my ass as frequently as possible by anyone who wishes to do so." The crudity applied to her own body humiliated her but she had to continue. "It is my duty to present myself as openly as possible so as to encourage anyone, male or female, to fuck me. It is my duty to provide any and all parts of my body for the purpose of sexual arousal of anyone who might wish to fuck me. It is especially important to assist males in ejaculating into my body. I will do this by presenting my breasts, vagina, buttocks and other parts to anyone interested in entertaining themselves with those parts in whatever manner they may choose. I expect those and other parts of my body to be subjected to pain and discomfort in my attempt to encourage all persons to fuck me. I am a fuck-hole. I am worthless for anything but being fucked.” 
It seemed to go on and on. She repeated mechanically but loudly as her calves ached again. She wondered how long it would last...or how long she could last. She felt at the end of her endurance but dared not falter in her speech. The swimming sea of humiliation, sexual suggestion, pain, and her attempts to shift her weight around the phallus generated growing heat in her loins until she finally climaxed. The extreme fear of being shocked again kept her attention on the text and diminished her pleasure.
At last the phallus lowered again and Master Hazen appeared. She sank to the floor as soon as the phallus permitted. She was sweating, legs soaked with her own moisture, and breathing heavily. Master Hazen forced her to walk back to her cell, pausing once to let a guest pinch her nipples which hardly phased her.
After two hours of exhausted rest, she was back in place on the phallus. "This is time for you to be creative. You know now what your duties are. It is time you put them in your own words. When I tell you to begin, you will tell everyone who cares to listen, in a loud voice as always, what you would like to help them do to you and with you. How you think they should use you. What you want them to do to you. Do you understand?"
"Yes Master, I understand. I will describe how other people should use me." She responded automatically, as the coming assignment was registering in her brain.
"I will let you wear these, in order to stimulate your creative thinking," Master Hazen offered, attaching the clothespins to her nipples with little weights attached to the ends. She sucked in her breath at the pain. She felt the variation in pressure as the weights swung around as she moved.
"You may begin, now, first talking about me and then about anyone.”
"Master Hazen," she began, not knowing exactly what she was about to say," I am a fuck-hole. I am here to be used as a sperm receptacle. I am here as an object into which you may put your penis anytime you want and ejaculate your sperm into me... into any of my openings. I am here to be fucked by you or anyone else who wishes to fuck me in my vagina, in my mouth or up my ass.”
 She was surprised at herself for her own crudity and still more for wantonly encouraging the crudest of uses for her body. Yet she felt some deep seated release of pleasure from doing so. How could she actually enjoy debasing herself like this? Was she actually beginning to believe what the Covenant said of her? Was her belief in that Covenant and her conformance to those requirements actually giving her satisfaction?
Master Hazen slowly slipped out of the room as she became caught up in the description of her own humiliation. "I am to be fucked in the mouth, ass and cunt by everyone. I am to be whipped on my tits and my ass for the purpose to encourage those witnessing that to put their cocks into me and squirt their cum into my body." She began to free associate, to imagine herself being used by all kinds of people and even animals. She envisioned them as cartoon characters who spoke to her as they used and abused her. She gushed out stream-of-consciousness thoughts in a disjointed (but loud) voice. She began to feel power, to feel that she could almost demand that they abuse her and humiliate her. And she began to enjoy the feeling. Again her loins began to burn and moisture flowed down the phallus. She turned her shoulders so the swinging weights would stimulate her nipples. She moved her loins as best she could to vary the pressure within her vagina."Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me," she continued to demand. She was in a dream world of her own. "Pinch my tits. Spank me. Shove big cocks up my cunt and fill me with cum. Fill up glasses of cum I can drink. Stick big sticks up my ass. Whip my tits. Stick pins into my tits. Hurt me. Fuck me. Beat me. I love you. Use me. Abuse me. Fuck me with a potato.”   She went on and on, her legs aching, even cramping, and still she followed one orgasm after another.
Master Hazen was watching from behind her and when she finally passed out, he quickly released the phallus so she would not hurt herself on it. She collapsed onto the floor.
She awoke in her apartment, not knowing how she had gotten there but remembering only a cathartic experience, a soul renewing, with a sense of achievement and satisfaction. Almost a sense of self worth she thought ironically. She rolled over and hugged her daughter, lying next to her asleep in the bed.
In the next couple of days she was made to repeat the Covenant aloud many times in public, sometimes requiring that she indeed satisfy that covenant by ingesting the sperm of some nearby guest. She was also told that all of her activities henceforth would be video taped, photographed, and otherwise recorded for confirmation of her compliance to the requirements of the covenant,
These pictures and tapes would also be used to document her as a true Subject. Any Member of the Brotherhood could visit the library to browse through the collection of Subjects to see which ones interested him. He could then view photos or tapes of any parts of her body, and watch her perform innumerable devious sex acts, to see if her performance interested him. If so he could send for her, and enjoy those acts performed on himself or others, or to subject her to any other torment or use he chose. She would be catalogued, thoroughly described with vital statistics, characteristics, fears, personality characteristics, with dimensions and photographs of all her parts and in the performance of all manner of sex acts. This information would be supplied to all Brotherhood libraries throughout the country so that she could be made available to a wide variety of people.
The process of recording "her" was exhaustive. Every part of her was dimensioned and photographed, even within her cavities. Blood tests, skin tests, hair tests, teeth tests, and sensitivity tests measuring her resistance to pain of various levels. The enemas and cleansings seemed endless and calculated to be continuously uncomfortable. At last it was completed and she was duly "recorded" as an object of the Brotherhood, for the use and entertainment of all Members.

The AJF: Marcy Williams 
Chapter 7- PENETRATION
The next morning, Master Hazen again came into her cell. "We have been progressing satisfactorily so far," he said with an approving nod. "You have learned that the luxury of the privacy of hiding your genitals from everyday view has been lost. You will now learn that the luxury of the privacy of control over the utilization of your genitals has also been lost. Genitals are inherently used for procreation but also for sexual pleasure. In the past you have had control over the use of your genitals for this purpose. From now on the use of your genitals will be totally controlled by the Brotherhood. The Brotherhood will determine when, how, where, with whom, and how long you will use your sex organs, and in fact any other part of your body. Your total lack of concern for the well-being of others, as witnessed by your crime, requires that you compensate society by continuously providing pleasure to others. Among other things this includes providing sexual pleasure through the use of your body. To this end, you will now begin by providing sexual pleasure to me.
Marcy had almost come to admit to herself where this training had been going, but not quite. It still came as a shock, but here it was. They were finally going to rape her, and it seemed as if they were talking about a regular thing. Could they really do it? Weren't there laws? even if she had committed a crime, it wasn't as bad as rape was it? Was it? She looked around the room, the place where she had had some refuge but where she had also been subjected to intense training. The feeling of panic began to close in on her. This was the ultimate, she could not be degraded further she thought. This would be everything. They had said she would be humiliated and subjected to pain but she had not imagined anything as bad as this. And this was just the training period! What was the rest of the sentence to be like? She felt weak, as if she did not have the strength to resist. Why didn't she fight, escape, break out? To hell with their damned Brotherhood and her agreement. She could dash out, run to the cottage and grab her daughter.
Marcy knew it was useless even as she thought it. She didn't even know where her daughter was right now. There was no way around it for now, but maybe later she could figure away out. She thought about Master Hazen.
He was not unattractive and he did have a power about him. She began to wonder what it was going to be like. She felt her heartbeat and the tingling around her loins. She knew she could not fight it. She stared at the ground and did not move. There was a long period of silence and neither of them moved. How was he going to do it? she wondered. Why didn't he just jump on her and stick it in?
Master Hazen had watched the play of emotions on her face although she had not lifted her eyes. Well trained, he thought. Finally he saw the resignation. He now began to look at the naked body before him as the sexual object he was soon going to penetrate. He repeated his last statement as a question'. "You will now provide sexual pleasure to me, won't you Marcy?"
The lowest of the low, she thought. Now I must recognize out loud that he is going to rape me. Very slowly she struggled out the words almost in a mumble: "Yes, Master." There, she had just committed herself to the ultimate degradation, but by rote she knew she must carry on "I will provide you with sexual pleasure." Marcy sat there on her bed unable to move. Not knowing if she should, or even could move. Total numbness seemed to engulf her, as if she was on some anesthesia.
Master Hazen arose and removed his robe, revealing a heavily muscled body, tanned well except for the loins. This seemed to accentuate his genitals as she stared at him. The penis was large. It seemed somewhat swollen but not even projecting horizontally. It did not change its state as she stared at it, "Your sexual stimulation is irrelevant so fondling of your breasts and vagina will only be for the purpose of stimulating me. Before that, however, you will stimulate me by fondling my testicles. Come here, kneel before me and fondle me.
It was almost totally matter-of-fact. He talked as if she was to perform some secretarial task for him. How could he become excited with such a disinterested attitude? She did as she was told, more in automatic obedience that active thought. She touched her fingers gently on the top of his penis, then around the head and slid underneath the length of the shaft. Her gentle fingers stroked down his scrotum and cupped around it, softly weighing each testicle. Her other hand formed around the shaft and felt it slowly swelling. She moved her hand back and forth slowly simulating coitus. Its head was pointed directly out at her, as if mocking her degradation.
"Kiss my penis to show me that you honor and respect it.”
She brushed her lips against the end of it without moisture, but with a rush of blood to her face.
"Now take it into your mouth to honor it, keep it warm, and to welcome it into your body. Make it moist with your saliva so that it will slide easily into your vagina.”
This was it, she thought, the rape has officially begun. Where would it all end. She had never actually done this to anyone even though she had been married. It just reviled her so much, she had never been able to accommodate any man in her mouth before. Somehow the hopelessness of her situation made it all acceptable, as if it was okay because she could not help it. She didn't even gag as her mouth went over the end of the shaft. She held the first inch in her mouth and half expected sperm to flood out like urine. Nothing happened. She slid her mouth down further with her hands still fondling his scrotum. She felt movement in the scrotum and feared he was about to ejaculate, but she only felt the shaft continue to swell.
"Good," he said, "now moisten my testicles. She was glad to be rid of the fat shaft in her mouth but did not enjoy the hair which invaded her mouth as she licked his scrotum. When she had moistened it all he commanded, "Now stand up, but continue to fondle me."
When she was standing he began to fondle her breasts while she was required to continue the fondling of his genitals. She still had never dared to raise her eyes to his face. He bent down and sucked one erect nipple into his mouth and then the other. She looked down to see this man she did not know, sucking on her tits. Could she ever face herself again? At the same time she knew she was responding sexually. Was the total helplessness of the situation exciting her? Could it be that she was actually enjoying being raped, or was it just carnal lust which he was forcing her into which she could not resist?
"I'm ready to penetrate your vagina now," he said, again in his disinterested tone. "Come over and get on top of the bureau on your back." She did as she was told. "Now grab your ankles and pull your legs wide apart. " Again she complied. He was standing two feet away, looking at her vagina, which was aligned with his raging erection and spread wide open to receive him. She felt grotesquely detached from the happenings here as if she were watching from another part of the room. He walked beside her and put his penis in her mouth again and stroked back and forth a few times. She remained hands to ankles, spread open, and thought his head would gag her to death, but he was careful not to penetrate too far. After a few minutes he said, "I'm getting ready to cum soon." He pulled out of her mouth, walk around and abruptly plunged the full length of his shaft into her vagina.
He grabbed her legs and began slowly thrusting back and forth. "It is an honor to feel my penis in your vagina, isn't it Marcy?" 
She was hardly paying attention to what he said. A myriad of exploding thoughts ricochetted around her brain. He quickly tweaked her nipples and began using them as thrusting handles. Through the haze of confusion between disbelief, anxiety about her own sexual arousal, and fear of resisting what was happening to her, she managed to recall her training, although somewhat breathlessly, "Yes Master, it is an honor to feel your penis in my vagina."
"It will be an honor to receive loads of sperm into your vagina from a Member of the Brotherhood, Won't it, Subject?"
"Yes, Master, it will be an honor to receive loads of sperm in my vagina from a Member of the Brotherhood." She felt her breathing becoming more rapid and noticed that she was beginning the respond to his thrusts. She grabbed her ankles till her fingers were white and grunted with each stroke.
His strokes increased rapidly, he grabbed her breasts fiercely and shot wads of sperm into her again and again. Slowly his pace decreased as hers yearned to increase. He stopped thrusting as his erection faded but she tried to increase her thrusting, finally giving up with a sigh. That sigh from deep within herself brought her back to the present. She had just been raped and had actively participated in returning her attackers sexual thrustings. She had wanted it! She yearned for it to happen some more. Do it again. Why was it so bad? She couldn't help it anyway could she? Her breath was heavy and her chest heaved, her body was flushed. He released her breasts. withdrew from her and returned to put on his robe.
She relaxed almost in a swoon, eyes closed. Her hands released her ankles and her legs fell off the end of the bureau and her hands to the sides. The naked torso and breast pointing up from the bureau top. He glanced up, stepped quickly up to her and directed a vicious cut with his belt directly onto her exposed pubes.
The stroke brought her out of a reverie with a startled scream. Emotionally hurt too,  Master Hazen thought. She sat up with hands down to protect herself automatically.
“Get back in position,” he commanded sternly.  “I  never told you to move.”
Quickly she resumed her position on her back, hands holding ankles with legs wide apart. She was again the Subject of the Brotherhood, the toy, the plaything of their will. He stared at her threateningly although she dared not look at him. She felt exposed, displaying to him the vagina he had just taken pleasure with, as if acknowledging that it was and always would be his to use and abuse as he saw fit.
"Do not disobey like that again or I will be much more severe with you. Now stand up right here and do not move." She obeyed immediately. "Now tell me it was a great honor to provide your body for the pleasure of a Member of the Brotherhood."
She responded immediately. "It was a great pleasure to provide my body for the pleasure of a Member of the Brotherhood." It was automatic but somehow she felt that she might mean it deep down inside. She felt his sperm flowing out of her and gathering on her labia. She wished she could move or wipe herself clean. It was an uncomfortable feeling, it kind of itched and tickled at the same time, but she dared not touch herself.
She could tell he was still upset about her moving. "It will be an honor to give sexual pleasure to all Members of the Brotherhood, and their guests. in this way won't it Marcy?" he asked cruelly.
It was a license for any of them to rape her at will, but what were the options anyway? They could do it anytime whether she acknowledged their ability to do so or not. The tingling was still in her loins and she wondered if that prospect of further rape was exciting her. "Yes, Master, it will be an honor to give sexual pleasure to all Members and guests of the Brotherhood in this way.”
He took his time re-robing and cleaning himself. Then he took a large leather collar from his pocket. "This you will now wear as a symbol of your subservience to and your complete bodily availability to Members and guests of the Brotherhood." It was about three inches wide and quite thick, with four evenly spaced rings on it. In the back, where the buckle normally is was a metal box as wide as the collar, three inches long and about an inch thick. Master Hazen slid the end of the collar into it, drew it up tight and stepped back to inspect it. She could still breath comfortably but felt the constriction and noticed the weight. "This is not an ordinary collar. It is reinforced with steel cable. The tightness is controlled by the Members through the lock control in the back. It is to insure that you obey and that you do not wonder too far. Let me illustrate." Master Hazen reached into his pocket. A moment later she heard a slight whirring and the collar began to tighten. She stood still as ordered but her eyes widened with fear as it began to cut oft her wind pipe, then stopped. "we can tighten it as much as we wish, for as long as we wish. We can make you pass out or kill you if you disobey. It provides for constant monitoring of your location and if you wander beyond the mansion grounds a signal will be sent which will tighten it automatically until all movement stops. I suggest you forget any thoughts of running out on your contractual obligations here."
"I will now see to it that your availability is posted. In the mean time your duties do not start for an hour, so you may remain here to contemplate your new condition." He glanced down at her thighs. "In case you haven't noticed, there is sperm on your thigh." Of course she had felt it in the same way as a runny nose tickles the nose. He was just being mean she thought. "Do not for any reason clean it off, or any other sperm on your body. unless ordered to do so. You will let it dry in place. Is that clear?
"Yes Master, I will not clean the sperm off by body unless ordered to do so. I will let  it dry in place." What was he doing to her. She would have to go out around the mansion doing her duties naked, with dried sperm on her legs! Surely people would notice. Maybe that's the point she thought. Maybe it's supposed to be a red flag telling everyone its alright to rape me. But I guess the collar will do that anyway.
In fact it actually got worse. Two unknown Members visited her within the hour to demonstrate her "availability". They followed the same general procedure as Master Hazen, depositing their loads into her vagina. As she performed her chores over the next half hour, their semen all seemed to seep out and run slowly down her thighs. glistening obviously in the light. She wondered what further indignities the collar and obvious semen flow would bring her that day.

The AJF: Marcy Williams
Chapter 8- THE BOYS
No sooner had she entered her cell the next morning and removed her clothing in preparation for the days ordeals, than a new Master entered the room. He could not have been older than fifteen with pimply face to go along with it. Two guests were with him. one of whom was carrying a video camera. His "guests" were probably younger than was.
She instinctively covered herself until she noticed the glare in the eyes of the new Master. Then her eyes lowered and her hands fell to her sides, revealing all her private parts to the boys. She felt small and helpless.
"Well here she is," the Master gestured arrogantly for his friends. The two other boys just stared at her, their mouths gaping open. They stared at her nakedness as if they had never seen even a picture of a naked girl. They seemed to almost giggle with glee as they imagined the awesome pleasures they were about to enjoy with these super tits and that gaping cunt they were going to use. They hardly noticed her face, or even that there was a person standing in front of them. They were transfixed with lust.
When the one with the video camera recovered his composure he immediately began taping her. Up and down her body his camera went, zooming in here and there. Throughout the following ordeal, the camera would be in continuous use, operated by one or the other of the two boys.
Marcy felt like shrivelling into the ground. These..children... were making her feel extremely, well, naked, like she had never felt naked before, even when walking the corridors in front of numerous strangers. She felt like her genitals constituted her entire body, as if she were nothing but tits and cunt to these people. They were here to play with her, to gang rape her, and in spite of herself, her nipples began to swell in response. "See how it becomes erect when she starts to get turned on?"
"Lie on your back and spread your legs, quickly," he commanded. When she had complied, the young Master continued his instruction. He touched the gap between her labia feeling only the normal dampness. "Feel her here and see that it is not very wet.” The two boys complied eagerly but touching her tentatively. "Feel inside a little," he prompted. She suspected that they were not even noticing the intent of his instruction, but they did penetrate enough to moisten their fingers. Her growing arousal would make this demonstration useless in a few moments. "Watch this," the young Master said.
He rolled her nipple in thumb and forefinger of one hand and her clitoris with the fingers of the other hand. Marcy lay back on the bed supported on her elbows, legs apart over the sides of the bed and watched herself being manipulated into sexual arousal as these boys watched and videotaped in fascination. This was a fifteen year old boy feeling her up in front of his friends and describing how he was getting her sexually excited. And he was right! She was beginning to breathe heavily.
"See how her breathing has increased and the genital areas are more flushed?" the young Master commented. "This is her clitoris," he continued, drawing their faces down close to her most private part, "Commonly called the clit. When you rub this she will want to fuck, won't you Marcy?"
"Yes, Master, when you rub my clit I want to fuck."
The boys were beside themselves. She thought they would cum in their pants. "Would you like these guys to feel your breasts, Marcy?"
What a joke she thought. Not only did she have no choice, but it was so predictable. The next question would be 'Would you like these guys to fuck you?' And of course the answer would be yes and then they would do it.
"Yes, Master, I would like them to feel my breasts.”
The young Master was obviously going to enjoy demonstrating his power over her to his friends. This was going to be an ego trip for him. He was leering at her as if daring her to challenge his right to humiliate her.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"Marcy." she responded in surprise. He didn't even know who she was. "Master," she quickly added. In fact she wasn't a person to them, she was just a Subject, a sex object, to be used as sex objects were supposed to be used.
"Marcy, I would like to introduce to you Mark Lebanon and Jay Steers." It seemed so awkwardly artificial as they stepped forward and shook her hand as a formal introduction  ...as if they cared who she was as a person. They didn't even look her in the eye as they shook her hand, just stared down at her breasts in anticipation.
"Oh, don't worry about the video camera. They just want to take a souvenir back to show their friends. They picked you from the catalogue as the one they wanted to suck and fuck them. You will be glad to suck and fuck them as many times as they want won't you. Marcy?"
Her response was automatic. "Yes, Master. I will be happy to suck and fuck them as many times as they want." But she felt even smaller and more helpless at being dominated by children. She might even be the one to whom they would lose their virginity. She was going to be used as an educational toy for them.
As if in response to her thoughts, the young Master (she still did not know his name) said, "Come look at this” to his friends. The three of them came right up close to her. "These are pretty nice size breasts. Now notice the nipple." he indicated as his finger touched gently around the areola, She could feel their breath on her breasts as they were all close up within a few inches of her staring intently at her nipples. The video lens close up also. She had not had time to think of anything but the novelty of the situation with these children abusing her. The full impact of the sex acts to come became obvious to her as he touched her. Sudden arousal swept through her.
Instantly four hands were mauling her breasts. They were not interested in eroticism, just carnal lust. The video tape was forgotten for the moment. There was also an element, it seemed to her, ot curiosity and experimentation as they jiggled. pinched and pulled at them.
Predictably the next question came: "Would you like them to feel your vagina, Marcy?"
"Yes, Master, I would like them to feel my vagina." She was far from anxious for it because of the roughness her breasts had encountered, but her loins longed for it. The hands, predictably, rubbed and penetrated eagerly and without delicacy. A piece of meat, Marcy reflected, as she lay there allowing herself to be abused. And they were filming her to take back and show to all their teenage friends. But her humbling subjugation to these children had generated a powerful arousal.
"See how wet she is?" The boys nodded vehemently, not daring to speak lest it break the spell of this privilege. "That is because she wants to lubricate her vagina so it will be easier for you to slide your penises into it."
"Well, I guess it is time to get on with it. Are you ready to fuck her yet?" The boys could only nod and groan. They had either cum in their pants already or were too excited to speak, Marcy thought. "I think you should take off your clothes then, don't you?" he teased. The boys nearly fell over jumping on one leg trying to get their pants off, temporarily stopping the videotape.
Marcy's eyes widened as she saw the huge organs. Both, she reflected, were much larger than she thought fifteen-year-olds would have. They were both very pink almost purple as if the skin were stretched to the limit.
"Show them how you will rotate you hips as you fuck them, Marcy." She immediately began the pelvic thrusting, legs still far apart, further demonstrating the young Master's control over her and her own erotic compulsion. The camera hummed. He would ask her about fucking them next.

"Stand up," he said to her surprise. "What shape will your mouth take when you suck on their penises?" She formed her mouth into a tight "0".
She was getting numb to the humiliation now, acquiescing to anything.  "What position do you usually take when you perform fellatio?"  They probably don’t even know what that word means she thought smugly to herself, while sinking to her knees facing the raging erections.  
"Suck off Mark now." He commanded coolly. Jay moved forward to get good close up shots of her face and mouth as she sucked.
She walked forward on her knees, cupped his testicles into her hands and plunged her mouth over his shaft. The camera was close to her cheek. Scarcely had she completed four strokes with her mouth than Mark held the back of her head and ejaculated great gobs of sperm down her throat. She had to hold him back from choking her by closing her hand around the base of his penis. She also had to swallow quickly to avoid choking. He seemed to continue to squirt thrust after thrust as if he would never be spent. Finally he slowed and she was able to use her tongue around the shaft.
"Your turn next, Jay." the young Master said.
"Move, Mark, " the boy spoke immediately pushing his way into Mark's place. Mark slipped his semi-rigid organ from Marcy's mouth, and slowly relinquished his place to Jay. Jay thrust the camera into Mark's hands, grabbed her hair and jammed his penis down her throat in place of Mark's. This one was quite a bit fatter but not as long she observed, stretching her mouth and noticing that it was not as difficult to avoid choking. She noted with detachment that she was beginning to discriminate between penises.
She performed her duties on the new organ which took only slightly longer to ejaculate than the first. She wondered if the young master was planning to enjoy her as well, but at least it was almost over.
She was quite wrong. She was next required to lie on her back and take the two boys vaginally. There was almost no break between episodes for them to recover. It seemed they were ready again almost as soon as they withdrew from her. She got very hot but they came so fast that she never had a chance to reach orgasm herself.
As if in answer to her needs, the young Master demanded that she masturbate when the boys had finished with her. "I find it amusing to watch girls masturbate," he explained to the boys who kept taping. "It is instructive because you see how long it takes each girl to get hot, and you can watch the flushes on their bodies. You also find out what form of fondling each one considers the most stimulating."
With one hand she manipulated her clit. With the other she rolled her nipple between her fingers. Marcy closed her eyes. She thought of these unknown teenagers fucking her, videotaping her masturbating, and going back to show their friends. She would be gang raped again and again in the minds of all those others every time the tape was shown. They would masturbate over her as she was now masturbating for them. Her excitement rose. She thought of her helplessness. Of her utter lack of control over anything that happened to her body. Her fingers moved faster. She could make all those teenagers beat off just by being taped. She had no control over herself but she had control over them. By obeying everything she could manipulate the video viewers, probably even these two boys. Maybe even the Master, she wondered? The thought put her over the edge. She came in a great arching of her back, as her fingers pressed hard on their targets, almost painfully.
"Wow," said Jay, "that was awesome.
She opened her eyes. The young Master said, "Roll your legs up over your head and stick your ass in the air."
He sat on the bed beside her with the other two. This hole was a lot of fun to use wasn't it?" he asked, slipping a small dildo easily into her soggy vagina. The boys nodded with mischievous gleams in their eyes. "But you will find that this one," he inserted his forefinger abruptly into her anus, "is often much more satisfying."
Marcy gasped in surprised pain, and chilled at the prospect of actually being raped in her anus. She almost put her legs down in protest and protection. However she kept her self-discipline and left her buttocks sticking provocatively high in the air for their entertainment, fully exposed to the camera. She did let out a plaintiff questioning groan as the young master mercifully applied Vaseline before removing the small dildo from her vagina and inserting it slowly into her rectum while his friends watched.
She felt more violated by this misuse of her body then by any rape she had suffered yet. It was not even that they were abusing her sex organs. It was that they were using a part of her that had never been meant for sex. It was none of their business. They were playing with apart of her that they had themselves. They knew just how tormenting it would be for her. That was part of it, she knew. They were doing it just to make her suffer, to punish her. She guessed they just thought they might as well satisfy their penises if they were going to torment her rectum.
She was commanded to kneel at the end of the bed with her buttocks in the air. She very slowly rolled off her back in obedience. A sob broke from her, tears filled her eyes. In direct violation of the rules she looked directly at the young Master and pleaded "Please don't do this Master. I will do anything for you. I will suck you all anytime you want. I'll do anything! Please!" She broke down, sobbing while sitting on the bed.
The young Master had just had his ego bruised. Not only had she broken the rules but she had embarrassed him in front of his friends. She had had the temerity to challenge him!
He stepped forward, grabbed her hard by the arm and jerked her to her feet. Immediately she cowered at her obvious error, and her crying turned from pleading to miserable, knowing she would suffer for it.
"Put your hands on your head and don't move!" She complied immediately.
He pulled his belt off and lashed it across her breasts several times. Each time it drew a pitiful cry and another burst of louder crying, but she resolutely kept her hands on her head. They two boys were impressed by the young Master's control over her.
"Spread your legs!" She complied with another groan, knowing her loins would now be subject to the same torment. The boys giggled. "Would you boys like to make sure she remembers to obey YOU when she next sees you?" the Master asked with a smile. Eagerly they nodded. "Have at it, then."
They took turns with the belt. One swung it up between her legs, the other across her buttocks, each time while the other taped the events. The blows to her labia stung terribly because they were wet. After several punishing blows, the young Master intervened. 'Marcy, are you sorry you questioned anything I chose to do to your body?"
"Oh yes, Master, I am so sorry I questioned anything you want to do to my body," she responded desperately. "You may do anything you want to my body anytime you want and your friends can too.” The boys glanced at each other excitedly.
"Will you be happy to help us fuck you in your ass-hole?"
"Oh, yes, Master, I will be happy to help you fuck me in my ass-hole,” she answered without caring what it meant, knowing it would make no difference anyway.
"You have insulted my friends, and they may not want to now. You will have to convince them to do it. If you fail we must continue the punishment."
Slowly she walked to the young boys. She looked up pleadingly at Jay and asked him to do exactly what she dreaded he would do. "Would you please fuck me in my ass-hole?" Tears streamed down her face as she asked. It must have excited him to have this power over her and he played it well. "Well, I'm not sure, you don't seem to be very happy about it?"
"Oh yes, sir. I really want you to enjoy yourself inside of my ass. I am sure you will find it most enjoyable." How could she be doing this she wondered, convincing him to do something she would loath.
"I don't know...," he replied with a taunting smirk.
"I'm sure your penis will enjoy the squeezing I can give it with my sphincter muscle, and I would most enjoy giving you more pleasure.”
"Well okay." he agreed with mock reluctance, "but I'll let you do it my way." He lay on his back on the bed. She looked at his erection and was glad he was the one with the thinner organ.
"Congratulations, Marcy." the young Master said. 'You are very good at persuading people to assfuck you. I will keep that in mind when I need some entertainment at my next party." Marcy shuddered; he had trapped her. She was going to be used extensively now for ass-fucking. Helplessness filled her again. No matter what she did they seemed to be one step ahead of her, forcing her into what she didn't want. She couldn't win. Her only hope was to obey everything no matter how painful or repugnant because if she didn't they would always find away to make it worse for her. She sagged, she belonged to them. She relaxed and knew she would go with the flow now.
"It is nice to know that you would now enjoy the use of your rectum, Marcy." the young Master said mockingly. "Since you have been so cooperative I will permit you to apply some lubricant if you like this time."
"Thank you, Master," she replied ambivalently.
Jay was getting horny in anticipation. "Come over here, cunt," he called coldly... “or ass-hole, I should say." They all laughed. Marcy accepted herself as whatever they called her. She approached Jay.
"Climb on top." She placed herself over him, kneeling on either side of his hips, her hands by his shoulders. He placed his hands behind his head. "Now squat down and stick it up your ass.”
There it was. They would all watch as she was forced to insert his penis into her own ass-hole. She slowly placed her feet on each side of his hips and began to sink her ass down to impale herself. Mercifully the young Master held out a jar of Vaseline. She did not know how to use it but she scooped a big finger full and applied to her rectum, even trying to put some inside. The more she could use the better she thought, then scooped another fingerful and applied it to Jay's penis. Then she settled into her task.
Mark was busy with the video camera, taping her face, her reactions, and her progress in penetrating herself.
This was new to her. It just wouldn't go in. She tried to relax, but was afraid she would pee on him instead. She began to worry. She pressed harder and closed her eyes. It hurt. She felt her breasts being squeezed. She held his penis in place, trying to guide it in with her finger, but to no avail. She had to do it. Finally she resolved to just relax and let the shit and piss come out or him go in, Which ever happened it would be over. She pressed harder, she cried out repeatedly at the pain. Surely there was a better way to do this. Suddenly, to her great relief, the giant organ slid past the sphincter. He was in her at last! Slowly she settled herself down further until her buttocks were fully resting on his pelvis, his penis now fully embedded into her rectum.
She opened her eyes to see the video camera first, then she saw Jay smiling at her. "Nice job." he said in mock evaluation of her efforts.
"This is a good view," the young Master observed thru the viewfinder from near Jay's viewpoint. "I think I'll convert the video into some still pictures of this point."
Marcy envisioned their view. I could not have been more revealing of all of her private parts, but of her submission as well. Her legs were spread wide, her breasts were being fondled, her vagina was displayed wide open shaved, and the huge penis in her rectum was ample evidence that she was being used for the male's pleasure and not her own. since it was certainly not a sexual organ that she would have used for her own pleasure. The status she had accepted for herself was perfectly displayed by that tableau.
"Okay, fuck me now," Jay encouraged. How could he have waited so long this time when he had cum so quickly both times before she wondered? She raised her rear slowly, sliding up the shaft nearly to the end and down again. The camera recorded. It was not so painful actually now that he was in her. The cool air stimulated him. As she sank down on him again, he grabbed her, arched his back and thrust into her repeatedly. His semen flooded her bowels.
When she sat upon him again as she felt the organ subside, she said, "Thank you. Master." She hadn't realized it but she had just empowered him to be her master also, and she notice that he swelled with ego. The recognition that her comment had given him pleasure beyond lust, filled her with a sense of achievement. She had won. By being submissive she had become the master. The duality of it all swam in her mind.
She repeated the performance with Mark while Jay worked the camera. This time she was more prepared, but still the initial penetration was painful. Mark did not cum as fast, but she worked harder, looking forward to her victory. It was more difficult because he was pinching her nipples terribly and she was crying.
Afterward she kept crying because she felt she had discovered a way to feel worthwhile in her worthlessness. Even the requirement to suck their penises clean afterward seemed to have a kind of self satisfying glow to it.
The three boys sat around on the bed for a while after she had been dismissed to stand in the corner. They talked of their experience with her as if she were not there: of what they thought of her breasts, her vagina, and how they had enjoyed her rectum. They spoke in brutally frank terms of what they would do next time and how they hoped to bring their friends. The young Master demonstrated his power again, by reminding them that he was in charge and their friends would have to do a great deal for him if they too wanted to use her. She wondered at what kind of payoff he had gotten to let them come in here to rape her. It sounded as if he was going to get very rich at her expense.

The AJF: Marcy Williams 
Chapter 9 - RULES OF CONDUCT
Marcy had been required to attend classes every week to learn her responsibilities and what the future of her sentence would entail.  Much of the instruction had terrified her and shaken her decision to accept the foundation’s offer of a shorter sentence, but it was too late now.
For her public life after training she had learned the prescribed attitude: demure, humble and contrite; the correct language to use unless directed otherwise: polite, sophisticated and anatomically correct; the clothing to be worn: conservative and classy but never any underwear; and the devices to be worn: earpiece or headband with receiver for getting commands, and dildos with remote controls to be worn when instructed.
She learned that her training and the remainder of her sentence would be designed to change the image of herself as a responsible member of the society she had wronged; to teach that society works best if we are constantly thinking of how we can please other people and how this will be returned to us.  Until she had sufficiently demonstrated her genuine contrition, she would be treated as a thing, referred to as “it”, and required to give pleasure to acceptable members of society.  To demonstrate her contrition, she would be required to provide the full and complete use of her body and mind for the pleasure of others, including the pleasure they derived from inflicting pain and humiliation on her in justified retribution for her transgressions.   She would be required to publicly display all parts of her body and to perform all forms of sex acts including perversions which she had never heard of and to be videotaped in their performance.  When those tapes were reviewed by the Foundation and it was judged that she was performing all of the sex acts, including all perversions, willingly and with enthusiasm she would be judged to have accepted her punishment with sufficient contrition. She would then be graduated and allowed to re-enter society at large for the remainder of her sentence.
She would return to her regular employment after her leave of absence and resume her normal daily activities, but must be prepared at any time, day or night, to immediately obey properly authorized commands.  These commands would always be initiated by code words so that she would know they were authentic.  The degree of her enthusiasm in the performance of her tasks when ordered would be graded by the recipients of her mandated attention.  Failure to be enthusiastic about and appreciative of her treatment would be punished.  She learned enough about punishments in training to know that she would thank her abuser for punishing her no matter how badly. She was assured however, that a representative of the Foundation would always be carefully monitoring her treatment to assure there would be no permanent physical injuries, as she would be needed to continue servicing the needs of the Foundation’s members and their guests as well as the general public.
She had been trained extensively on fellatio and cunnilingus and the proper use of her tongue on all parts of the body, which did not include speaking which was generally forbidden.  She was required to write a journal of her training experiences, describing every detail every day and to write her emotions and deepest thoughts about her experiences each evening before she slept. She had to do research reports through resources on the internet about all sorts of sexual perversions which she might be required to perform for the pleasure of others.  She would be expected to service both sexes as well as animals, a perversion she had difficulty accepting, and to write reports evaluating the effectiveness of those acts in training her to be a more responsible member of society.  Indirectly, she therefore had to recommend her own punishments.  Often the recommendation to avoid those particular sex acts would be ignored and her thorough performance of them closely monitored.

She was now seated in the classroom, naked of course, impaled on her custom designed chair fitted with electrified twin dildos to encourage her correct responses.  This was her mid–course exam and she nervously regarded her instructor who held the key to her pain or passing the questions. 
Master Russell, her instructor, subtly rolled the shock controller in his hands, creating more anxiety in his student.  “I am about to give you your mid-course exam on the Rules of the Foundation.  Are you prepared, Marcy”
“I think so, Master. I have studied hard.”  She hoped she had done her homework sufficiently.  She recalled the books on sexual perversions, the endless porn videos she had watched on bondage and submission, as required by her course.  
“What is it you have studied, Marcy?”
“I have studied how to be a proper Subject of the Foundation, sir.  I have studied how to perform the duties expected of me, the attitude I must show, the positions I must assume, the vocabulary I should use, the clothing I should wear….”
“I hope so, little one.  Now the first question:  “What is the “offer” position, when do you use it and why?”
Marcy relaxed.  She knew this one. “In the ‘offer’ position the Subject kneels, legs apart, loins thrust forward, elbows touching behind her back, head up, mouth open, and eyes lowered.  Kneeling is to indicate submission, legs apart and loins thrust forward to indicate availability of her vagina, elbows touching and arched back indicate availability of the breasts and the open mouth indicates the availability of her mouth as well.”
“That is partially correct.  I will let you pass but not without punishment. You should know that the answers must be how the Rules apply to YOU personally and not to an anonymous ‘subject’.  Place your hands on your head.”
Marcy was surprised at herself and disappointed at missing this requirement.  She knew her breasts would be beaten but relieved that the dildos would remain dormant. A whip jarred the tender underside of her left breast with a snap, violently lifting and jiggling the flesh, followed by a swallowed scream. Stoically she maintained her hands on her head while he struck her pretty apples five more times, but she permitted a tear to roll down her cheek.  When the last blow had fallen, he soothingly caressed her breasts, contrary to the general Foundation policy of being remorseless in administration of punishment.
“Next question,” the Master continued matter-of-factly, “When a Member, or guest, says he needs a mouth, what should be done?”
“When a Member or guest needs a mouth, I will kneel, form my mouth in a round ‘O’ shape and stick out my tongue.  This is to offer my mouth for use of the member’s, or the guest’s, ‘member’ and for him to deposit his semen or urine, which I will swallow.  My extended tongue indicates an active desire on my part to accept his fluid into my body as an homage to the Foundation.”
“Very good.  Next: What attitude must a subject take in her social encounters when not in obvious accompaniment by a Member?”
“When I will be in a social situation when I am not accompanied by a Member, I will maintain an attitude of humility and contrition and always with class and dignity.  I will keep my eyes lowered when speaking.  I will never speak in a raised voice or express strong disagreement. I will act to alleviate the injustice I have inflicted on society by offering whatever services to other people they may wish to give them pleasure.”
“How do you recognize the command of a Member and how do you respond to it?”
“Whenever I hear my code words, ‘X-Ray Papa’ either audibly or through my earpiece or headband, I will know that it has been issued by a Member. I will obey his command immediately, completely and without hesitation.”
“Name five other code words that you must react to and what they require.”
She had learned many, some of which were easily understood and others that had required study.  The ones on her conduct in public social situations after graduation from training had been learned in her academic environment and were mere theory at this time, but nevertheless fearfully worrisome to her, so she remembered them well. Could she actually force herself to comply with them in the outside world?  Even if she could force herself to obey them, how would she be able to actually achieve the required result?
The most easily understood one came out first while she struggled in her mind with the others. “The command ‘Alpha Romeo’ requires me to immediately remove all of my clothing and assume the ‘offer’ position no matter where I am, who I am with or what social situation I happen to be in. I will wait in that position and obey the commands of anyone who orders me to do anything until I hear the release command ‘Alpha Sierra. I will then resume my previous social position and attire.  I will explain my behavior contritely to anyone who asks by merely saying that I just had a sudden urge to do it, and hope that the people involved enjoyed it and that I did not offend anyone.”  
Hoping to get credit for two commands with this statement, Marcy quickly continued with one that really worried her:  “ ‘Foxtrot Romeo’ requires me to perform fellatio or cunnilingus on whomever I am speaking with at the moment and to return to my master within one hour with his semen still in my mouth, or, if it is a woman, with a report of the successful completion of the command.”  She was required to seduce anyone selected, who could be a complete stranger or someone she had known for many years, but she had to start in the public social situation she was in at that moment.  It could even be in church! It could even be her pastor! Not only did she have to convince the man to let her do it, but to find a place, provide whatever foreplay he wanted, actually suck on the penis and produce the ejaculation, and leave the scene immediately afterwards without being able to say a word because her mouth would be full of semen! What would the guy think? Who would he tell?  He might even be a happily married neighbor who would refuse and then tell his wife. She would of course tell everyone and thus extract her revenge.
She paused contemplating the horrible possibilities of this command.  Feeling the warning buzz through the dildos, she continued, “ ‘Foxtrot Delta’ requires me to tell the person I am with that I am a porn actress and ask if they would like to see examples of my work.  I will then show them on my blackberry stills and videos of my performance of a full range of sex acts. I will emphasize that I most enjoy bondage and discipline or rape scenes where I am spanked, whipped or otherwise punished and forced to perform sex acts.  I will then ask them if they would like to participate in my next video by so abusing me and having sex with me.”  She blushed furiously at the prospect of actually having to do this in the real world.  She had seen many of the videos she had already been forced to make and knew just how graphic and revealing they were.
Again she paused, trying to think of the fifth command she could recite.  Again the warning tingled her loins just as she realized that the Master was standing close to her with his exposed member.  As required whenever she saw an exposed penis, Marcy immediately enveloped it in her mouth, sheltering it from the cool air in a warm wet environment, and just in time to escape the corrective shock from the dildos.  It also gave her a reprieve to think of the fifth command as her lips slid up and down on his shaft and her tongue worked within.  Her descriptions of her duties had apparently aroused him for within few minutes of sucking he enjoyed an orgasm, flooding his man goo into her mouth.  This product of his orgasm reminded her of her own current arousal and another command.  
When she had swallowed his product and cleaned his subsiding penis, she matter-of-factly continued with her recital without pause.  “ ‘November Alpha’ requires me to masturbate on the spot no matter where I am or in what social situation until I reach orgasm, then resume my previous activity as if nothing had happened.” She hoped he would get the hint and issue her that command now, but she knew that her satisfaction was irrelevant to the mission of the Foundation; that the pleasure of the members and guests was their objective and the feelings of the subject were of no concern.  Yet she took solace in the fact that he had tenderly massaged her breasts after he had whipped them.
“That’s good, Marcy.  Now, the last question:  Since you have been here you have had orally pleasured each the Members on a daily basis.”  She remembered the first few days which seemed like a year ago when it felt like rape, then recognition of it as a regular routine.  Every morning she would be brought to the seven Members in regular attendance at her training and would be required to perform fellatio on each which, along with a cup of coffee, would suffice as her nourishment for breakfast.
“You have undoubtedly noticed that the semen of each has a slightly unique taste.”  She did remember being asked at the first few “tastings” how each differed from the other.  At first she could distinguish very little difference, but soon she was able to detect subtle differences in salinity, texture, volume and in fact some tastes like food and to describe them. But the biggest differences between the Masters she had noticed was in how they attacked her mouth and the size and shape of their organs. 
The Master brought out three small cups, each with about an ounce of pale while fluid.   “These specimens are semen from three of the Masters whom you service every morning.  You must now identify which specimen came from which Master.”  She was shocked and unprepared.  She had no idea if she could tell from taste alone or not, but knew she had to try, as this was the last question.  Tentatively she touched her tongue to the semen in the first cup. It was cold but the taste was still evident.  Immediately the image of Master Hazen came to mind but she did not know why.  She thought she should try the other specimens before she decided.  The second semen specimen’s taste was distinctive which she recognized as Master Lucas by its tart metallic taste.  The third was rather bland but still had a familiarity to it, but she could not place it.  She checked the first and again suspected it was Master Hazen again. “Make you decision, Marcy.” The Master pushed.
“The first,” responded timidly, “is from Master Hazen.”  She braced for the dildo shock but it did not come.
“Very Good.” 
Relieved, she continued confidently, “The second is from Master Lucas”.
“Good, again.”
“Third, ..” she paused until the Master’s dildo tingle inspired a flash of recognition, “.. is from you, Master Russell!”
“Excellent, Marcy.  I was afraid my pride would be hurt if you did not recognize what you had tasted just a few minutes ago. You have passed your test.  It is always effective to give a little extra effort to get you over the hump as it were” he smiled.

The AJF: Marcy Williams
Chapter 10 – TREADMILL

“We should get on with it, I think,” he said finally changing the subject.  Turning to Marcy, the young Master asked, “Have you ever wondered where the electrical power comes from in this place?”
Indeed she never had.  She just assumed the was from the power company, but they were very far out in the country.  What did that question have to do with anything?  “No, Master, I never wondered where the electricity came from.” 
“One of the reasons these guys selected you, was because you have not yet been introduced to our power network.  They wanted to see it also, and I figured we could introduce you both at the same time.  Let’s just say they encouraged me to show it to you now also.” 
They walked a long way, out of the chateau, along a path thru a grove of pines and toward a small industrial looking building.  She was naked of course, but it was the first time she had been out of the chateau and the fresh air felt good even thought it was a bit cool.  She got goosebumps and her nipples rose.  As the young Master opened a door along one side labelled “Generator Four”, Marcy first noticed the sound of many small bells from inside. 
It was a minor part of the building, but the view stunned her.  There were three parallel treadmills each about twenty feet long.  Two of the treadmills were in full operation with five naked girls running on each treadmill.  The girls were spaced about four feet apart.  Between each girl there was an invert U-bracket straddling the belt.  The top of this bracket was a flat steel plate at about crotch height.  From this sturdy cross piece, a 2 inch steel pipe projected toward each girl.  At one vacant position, Marcy saw that the end of the bar was turned up about six inches.  These girls, she realized, were all impaled upon these pipes while they ran and could not get off them. 
“We call these the ‘music machines’”, the young master smiled.  “These treadmills are what generate much of the power to the chateau.  For whatever electrical devices we use at the chateau, we can thank these girls for providing, including,” he smiled maliciously at Marcy, “implements of, shall we say, discomfort.” Electrical shock treatments, she thought, and the shocks are being generated by the very girls upon whom it is used. 
“The power sources for these treadmills,” he continued, again referring to the girls as objects, “are typically rotated every hour.  Newcomers of course are given shorter terms until they become accustomed to the effort.” 
The room smelled of sweat and the girls on two of the treadmills were sweating heavily.  She assumed the third treadmill had just started.  Some girls glanced at her briefly, but were too caught up in their own efforts to pay much attention.  Their hands were secured behind them by wrist bracelets, and they all seemed to be leaning slightly forward.  This along with the pipe within them seemed to give them all a peculiar running gate.  This resulted in greater upper body motion and exaggerated bouncing of the breasts.  On each nipple was attached a bell on a small string resulting in a room full of wildly jingling bells, generating the sound she had first heard.
She noticed that a chord extended from each girl’s locked wrists toward the girl behind her.  At the vacant position Marcy saw that it was attached to the bottom of the upturned portion of the steel pipe.  At the location she saw that the pipe was actually in two halves, front and back.  At this position, the front half was about six inches further forward than the back half.  It slid along the horizontal part of the pipe.  This meant that if one girl pulled her arms down it would uncomfortably widen the pipe within the girl behind her.  That is why they all run slightly bent over, she thought, so that their wrists could be further back, relieving the pressure on the other girl. 
She observed, therefore, that the front girl in each treadmill appeared to have the better position.  She suspected however, that they were subjected to more “attention” from the overseers than the other girls.  There were three overseers, one of whom approached the young master.  They exchanged greetings and the overseer asked, “Is this the new Subject you mentioned?” indicating Marcy.
“Yes, are you ready for her?” 
“We are just about to start up number three.  It’s a beginner one.  We’ve saved a place on it for her as you instructed.” The empty position she saw was the rear most position on this treadmill.  She soon found herself properly positioned upon it, the height of the bar adjusted to fit her particular dimensions.  The attachment of nipple bells completed her “fitting”.  The boys watched in fascination, continuing their video taping. 
“You may wonder why the girls run instead of just standing here,” the overseer commented to the boys.  “The two portions of the vertical pipe are separately wired to my control panel.  At the beginning of each “set” as we call our generating periods, I program the speed of the treadmill that I want, determined by our power needs at the time, along with the acceleration period I expect.  When I start the program, a small electrical discharge between the two halves of the pipe indicate to the girls that it is time to begin.  They in turn begin the push backward on the treadmill.  As you can imagine, there is considerable force required to generate the inertia of the generating turbine, which is why it takes some time to get up to speed.  During this time the girls are pushing back with their legs, and against the pipe within them.  Obviously there is a limit to how hard they can push against the back of their vaginas without permanent tissue damage.  Pain or discomfort for them, of course, is irrelevant, but that is why we allow them time to get up to speed.  After they have reached the designated speed, the green light at the front of the treadmill goes on, indicating to them that they are to maintain that speed.” 
“But how does all that make them run at all,” asked Jay. 
The overseer smiled.  “Two reasons.  Firstly if they don’t push hard, the treadmill will fall below programmed acceleration or speed.  If that happens, that mild discharge between the pipe halves becomes a very strong electrical discharge, a shock, on all the positions.  This alone, once experienced, is enough to motivate most girls sufficiently.  Secondly, each position has ergometers, measuring the force generated against the pipe by the girls pushing against the belts.  I monitor each girl’s effort and can send her a message by varying the intensity of the electrical discharge within her vagina.  If all else fails, as it occasionally does (mostly from mechanical failure) we just use the old fashioned method.  He grasped a riding crop hanging from the side of the control panel.  You notice that the girls hands are kept up and away from her buttocks with the chord.” He smiled. 
“Oh, by the way,” he added, addressing the two boys, “these platforms,” he gestured to the steel plate in front of each girl, “are designed for you to sit on so you can closely observe each girls face or whatever while she is running. Some guys are fascinated and just stare up close at the bouncing tits for hours. Or you can stand to permit her to use her mouth on you.  In spite of the heavy breathing this exercise causes, you will find that most girls have become quite adept at breathing through their noses when their mouths are used that way.  I find the hard breath of her nostrils on me rather stimulating actually.  Any way, when we get started, feel free to walk around and make such use of any of the girls you see if you are so inclined.”
The overseer entered some data into the computer and Marcy felt the mild shock in her sex and began to push on the belts.  It was harder than she thought, and the pipe did press uncomfortably on the rear wall of her vagina.  As it gathered speed, the running caused the hands of the girl in front of her to move, varying the pull on the front of her vagina.  She found it actually stimulating and wondered if it was actually designed to press on the g-spot.  She wondered if they ever purposely tried to excite each other. 
The boys watched her closely, especially enjoying the way her bells were beginning to jingle.  They chuckled and pointed and used a lot of video tape on her dancing breasts.  The green light came on and she settled into a steady run.  Soon Marcy was breathing hard, feeling the soreness in her vagina and the ache in her legs.  The pull of the bells on her nipples was irritating them and the constant bouncing of her breasts was beginning to make their upper slopes sore.  She wondered how long distance runners ever did it, especially before the sports bra.  She also wondered how long she would be required to do this.  What would happen if she became exhausted or fell.  She knew that it would at least mean a shock.  She remembered the huge floor phallus in her monologue training and had no desire to feel that kind of shock again.  She worked hard to keep up the pressure on her vagina. 
One of the girls in front of her let out a terrible scream, “No, no, I’ll work, I’ll work,” she said.  Marcy redoubled her efforts, having no desire to experience the same fate.  She was in fairly good shape, she thought, so she would be able to endure. 
She noticed that the boys were wandering around the other treadmills, checking out the various girls.  They seemed especially fascinated by the bouncing breasts, reaching up several times to see what they felt like when they bounced.  Mark seemed especially interested in a small blond girl second from the front of the next treadmill.  He was sitting on the platform in front of her, fondling her breasts as they bounced.  Then he began pulling on the chord to the wrists of the girl in front.  Marcy could not hear anything above the jingling bells but guessed that the girl was protesting.  Then Mark was standing on the platform, allowing the pretty girl to utilize her oral skills. 
Marcy had worked up a good sweat and was questioning her ability to survive this run when she felt resistance in the treadmill begin to slow.  She was grateful, but all parts of her, inside and out, were very sore. 
The other treadmills were still running.  She saw Mark standing next to his little blond running friend.  She was glistening with sweat all over.  One of his hands was manipulating the top of her vagina, the other was molding a breast. How sweet, she thought, after he got off in her mouth, he was doing something for her.  He must have found someone he really likes. 
The treadmill slowly came to rest.  She was allowed to remove herself from the device and stand against the wall with the other girls who had been on it with her.  Another group of five girls had been brought and were mounted.  A few minutes after that treadmill had reached speed, the second one began to slow down as another five girls were brought in to await their turn.  Some of them she recognized from the chateau but many she did not.  Where did they all come from, she wondered. 

The AJF: Marcy Williams

Chapter 11 – GRADUATION
 “Good morning, Marcy,” Master Hazan greeted her as she was led into the laboratory. “Get naked and come here,” was his expressionless command.  She dutifully removed her simple shift, the only garment she wore, and placed it on the door hook, then stepped over to where he stood.  “We are going to define you, today. We are going to create a set of specifications which thoroughly detail your body, and to some degree, your mind. These will be available in your catalogue along with greatly enlarged detailed pictures of all parts of your body, for anyone who wishes to consider using you in future. The dimensions, of all of your parts, even the internal ones we can get to, will be listed. You will be measured in your normal condition, under physical stress, when very hot, very cold, and when highly sexually aroused.  I remind you, however, as you know, that you are forbidden to orgasm without permission when stimulated. You will then learn how to present yourself, using these specifications and photographs, to any member who requests them.”  Master Hazan directed the nurses as they measured her.  Height, weight, arm and leg length, finger sizes, shoe sizes, all clothes sizes.  Mouth width, maximum mouth opening, depth, volume capacity.  Her vagina and rectum were penetrated and stretched to their limits with speculums and dimensions taken.  None of several requests to orgasm during the procedures were granted. Castings were made of her face, breasts, ass, labia, and all her cavities by pumping them full of plaster. From those molds, artificial replicas were made to be sold to her abusers who wanted memorabilia of her to use after their initial encounter. Her tolerance to pain in general and in various parts of her body was tested with proper instrumentation to understand the appropriate degree of “encouragement” to apply before psychological or physiological damage would occur.
“You seem to have done well in your training,” Master Hazan began after her ‘documentation’.  “I think you are ready for your Final Exam” Mixed feelings swelled through Marcy: pride that she had pleased him and appeared to be a ‘success’, but fear as to what the ‘final exam’ would entail.  “You will now have two days to review your lessons and study for the exam. The exam will consist of a public presentation of yourself, in a lecture hall in front of a jury of Members, with an audience of your fellow Subjects, describing your new skills, your body, and a justification as to why you should be released back into Society.  You will need to convince the examiners that you are sufficiently contrite for your transgressions and that you have learned how to serve the larger Society.”
Marcy had known that her training was leading to the modification of her attitude toward the Society she had wronged and that she was beginning to understand her new role as a servant to the please that constituency. It would then be her duty to accommodate the desires of that group, primarily in the provision of sexual services with an attitude of contrition and cooperation. However, she had no idea of the duration of her training before being released to serve out the remainder of her sentence.
“In addition,” he continued, “in that exam, your examiners will require you to demonstrate selected aspects of your training. If you pass the exam, you will be released back into Society to begin the remainder of your sentence.  You will resume your former daily life in a normal manner, with the exception that you will, of course, be available at all times to the service requirements of the Members and their surrogates. If you fail the exam, you will be returned to training until your master believes you are sufficiently rehabilitated again. You do not want to fail because Subjects who are remanded to further training have a MUCH harder time of it.”  Marcy cringed at the prospect of any harsher experience than she had just endured. She now knew that her next two days would involve intense review and practice of the sexual techniques and procedures, as well as the commands she needed to know and attitude she needed to demonstrate. She recognized the need for internalizing the attitude that resulted in totally obsequious behavior, and vowed to mentally prepare herself for this competition. She had learned that to progress through her training at the Foundation, she needed to approach her ordeals of sexual training with the attitude of an athletic competition, as if she were competing for a place on the “team”.
 
The lecture room was filled with a couple of dozen Masters and an equal number of fellow Subjects-in-training, who were facing the lectern and the 12 ft high video screen, awaiting this Subject’s presentation. Marcy, dressed in a demure but short and form fitting business suit, approached the lectern with dread.  She knew what she was expected to present, in fact she had spent several hours putting it together from materials the Masters had given her.  She knew this was a critical step in her training which would go a long way toward her graduation and release back into Society, but was anxious about whether she could actually do it in front of an audience, even this private one.  One of her primary duties as a Subject of the Foundation when in Society was to present, whenever asked by a Member, what duties she was “willing” to do for the pleasure of Society to atone for her transgressions, so that the Members guests could select which one(s) they wished her to perform.
Marcy, now facing the dozens of eyes she was about to expose herself to, blushed furiously at the prospect.  “Good Morning” she heard herself say as if from a distance, “My name is Marcy Williams and I am a Subject of the Foundation.  I have transgressed most grievously on your rights as members of Society and wish to atone for my sins.  To that end I would like to offer any and all services you would like me to perform and all portions of my body for your pleasure.  I would now like to present to you what I have to offer in hopes you will take advantage of me in return for what I have done.  
She initiated the image on the huge screen showing her full height frontal nude. “This is what I offer for your entertainment and pleasure.  I am 5’8” tall, 130 pounds, 36” bust, (B-cup), 24” waist, 36” hips.”  The image on the screen slowly rotated, showing her profile and rear view, and again to the front where it stopped and slowly zoomed in to her flawless complexion, firm well formed nose and cheek bones, large doleful eyes, long glistening waves of hair, and firm moist lips, with upturned ends, cupid bow top and slightly fuller lower lip on a wide mouth with upturned ends in a smile which her eyes did not support. The make-up was minimal but effective and classy, exuding innocence.
“I hope you like my face,” she continued while the video continued lower, “It has a very talented mouth….and my breasts love attention.  As you can see, the areolas are puffy and the nipples…” Marcy choked up momentarily realizing how public she was making her private parts as the camera zoomed in on the nipple in profile and a finger appeared rubbing the tip which protruded in response. “..love attention.”
The 6 foot high breast subsided into the flat abdomen and then into a bald camel toe whose labia parted with the help of a speculum to reveal the pinkness within. That depth was plumbed by the viewing audience until the cervix entrance appeared.  This all appeared with Marcy’s running commentary describing her most private parts, including dimensional specifications, some of which she had never seen herself.  She survived emotionally by disassociating herself with herself and describing that other girl who was so desirable.  She continued the description as the view swung to her rear and plumbed her anus.  
Then began the more difficult descriptions showing her in sexual action of all kinds: oral, vaginal, and anal.  Marcy continued to glorify the pleasures to be obtained by using her in all these ways.  She knew she was marketing the use of her body despite her wishes to escape its abuse, but that was her punishment. The videos of penetrations of her orifices by penises of all types in innumerable ways were very graphic.  Despite her trepidation, she survived the description of her use by animal penises by mentally disassociating the screen images from her personal memory of the scenes. All of these activities were dutifully described in enticing detail by the conflicted girl. She praised in detail her own skills at using her tongue on penises, scrotums, anuses, and vaginas as well as her pelvic and other body contortions designed for the erotic pleasure of her users.
She continued the laudatory descriptions even when the demonstrations showed her being bound, whipped and tortured in all manner of imaginative ways, as a selectable option for her use by the embers of Society. Marcy survived these required “recommended” proposals for her use by describing them as disassociated from herself even though she remembered the videos taken as she had been abused. 
“I hope you will take advantage of what I offer,” she concluded, “and that you will schedule your requirements for me with the Member who brought me to you.  Thank you for helping me atone for my sins.”  She sat down, perspiring somewhat from her exertions of self-control during this forced presentation, but relieved that it was over. Several Masters stood and applauded, dutifully followed by the other Subjects in the audience. 
“Which of those activities do you least want to enjoy, Marcy?”  Her worried expression betrayed her fear that Master Hazan was about to demonstrate one of her uses to the audience.  Her indoctrination had imbedded in her mind that her duties, as punishment for her transgressions, were intended to be unpleasant for her, so she was half expecting this kind of enquiry.  She had enjoyed very few of her training activities, but a few were still vivid in her mind.  A fleeting temptation to lie by describing something she actually got pleasant sexual arousal from crossed her mind, but she had learned the hard way that lying was not to her benefit, no matter how distasteful the truth was. “I think, sir…” she paused uncomfortably, but courageously continued, “; it was the electric shock vaginal probe during my anal intercourse training with the horse, sir.” 
As she dreaded, Master Hazan responded, “Would you like to demonstrate that for us now?”
The automatic required correct response followed, despite her terror.  “If you wish it, sir”, but this time it was definitely a lie. An eager murmur from the crowd ensued.
“Unfortunately, our stallion is not available at the moment, but thank you for your request, which we will try to accommodate at a later time.” The audience’s disappointed moan covered Marcy’s immense relief, burying her silent objection that she had never “requested” any such thing.
For the next forty minutes, four members of the Foundation followed each other onto the lecture platform and selected acts they wished her to perform on them, naked of course and in full view of the audience. The first was for simple fellatio but with the motivation of Tabasco sauce applied to her nipples until she had filled her mouth with semen. The success of her task was demonstrated by walking naked around the lecture hall with open mouth. 
The next was for straight vagina sex, but since the member was standing and was very tall, she was required to hold herself up on a rope suspended from the ceiling, while she wrapped her legs around him to provide sufficient purchase to perform the necessary pelvic thrusts. He lasted a long time, and Marcy’s arms were agonizingly painful as she continued to fuck him. She was afraid she could not hold on much longer and would fail her test but he finally emptied himself into her. 
The third member lay on the platform, legs facing the audience and required her to ride him with her anus with her legs spread wide so they audience could easily watch the penetration. She was required to talk to the audience during the entire act, describing her technique and how good it felt. 
The last member asked her that if she had failed to properly perform the fellatio, how she should have been punished. Knowing the Foundation’s policy of appropriate punishments, she had said “Wash my mouth out with soap for ten minutes, and then be required to practice the procedure on ten dogs, sir”.  Creating imaginative self punishments had been an effective part of her training. 
Then he asked, “If you failed to satisfy the member who used your vagina, how should you have been punished?”  Regarding it as another rhetorical question and remembering the first member’s requirement, she responded, “Put Tabasco sauce in my vagina while getting ten stokes with a whip on my labia, sir.”
“Okay, Marcy, assume the position.”  To her dismay, he was actually going to carry out her own punishment suggestion. She assumed the position for vaginal punishment, on her back, hands holding her ankles over her shoulders with legs wide apart. The insertion of the Tabasco sauce began an excruciating period while he rained blows onto her fiery labia. After each blow she knew, like a sorority member under hazing, to count and say, “Thank you sir, may I please have another.”  Tears from the painful burning of her insides and the stinging blows, augmented those from her feelings of total humiliation in voluntarily subjecting herself to this punishment in front of her eagerly watching audience.
Finally, she was allowed to stand and publicly douche herself with wonderfully soothing cool water and mildly alkaline milk, which appeared like floods of semen.
“Very well done, Marcy, I believe you have successfully completed your exam. Congratulations. You will now be authorized to resume you civilian life.” Turning to her audience, Master Hazan said, “Thank you ladies and gentlemen, for coming to this Subject’s examination and this presentation. She will now remain available here for the next hour for questions and demonstrations of her skills should any of you wish to explore her further.” At that, the audience broke up, with a number of them surrounding Marcy who performed for them for the remainder of the hour.
Despite her pain, Marcy was enormously relieved and proud of herself for achieving her most cherished goal of rejoining society as ‘free’ and independent, but now as a responsible participant.  She knew her days ahead would still be difficult and subservient but that is what she deserved. There was almost a sense of pleasant anticipation in her psyche.
End. 
(To be continued in Part 2)