Forty-Four Hours, Part 9
The woman on the other side of the pond continued to stare across the 200 feet
that separated her from Kara. Sensations of uneasiness pervaded Kara's body and
she quickly snubbed out the cigarette, gathered her coffee cup and turned back
to the building.
Entering her office, she closed the door and fell into her chair, letting her
trembling that consumed her body subside. She closed her eyes s if trying to
reassure herself that she had over reacted to the woman sitting on the other
side of the pond. When calmness returned she picked up a manila folder and
started reviewing the contents until a ring on her cell phone interrupted her
concentration.
Kara cradled the device to her ear but before she could speak, a female voice
flavored in alto tones, with a raspy, clipped accent spoke into her ear, "Why
did you run?"
"Who is this? What do you want?" Kara blurted back.
"Who I am isn't important, what I have to say, is. So listen. Take notes if
you wish to, but take a deep breath first and calm down."
Kara sighed and exhaled slowly into the phone, "alright."
The voice continued, "you've had some time to reflect since you returned from
Colorado ... time to reflect on what happened, what you are, what you want, what
perhaps may lie in store for you."
"Did Maya send you here?" Kara blurted out again.
"Asking questions can sometimes be viewed as a bad habit that displeases some
people. This is not about Maya; it's about you. Now," the voice paused, then
continued," you have two choices. You can disconnect the call right now,
receive no further communication from us and always wonder what would have been.
Or, you can listen and consider what I have to say. You have exactly 15 seconds
from right now to decide..."
Kara glanced at the wall of bookcases opposite her desk. Her heart pounded and
her frightened mind raced like waves rushing to pound against a sandy beach and
she started quivering, almost dropping the cell phone. Her fingers tightened
around it. From somewhere within her a voice that was almost not hers spoke, "
I'll listen." For another ten minutes, she listened afraid to breath as if the
sound of her own breathing would interfere with her aural senses. Furiously she
scribbled notes into her planner! Then the voice ceased; the line went dead.
Kara sat breathless for a few minutes, then gathered up her things and left the
office.
The next morning, a Thursday, an express mail envelope arrived via postal
courier exactly as the voice said. Now Kara stood in the foyer clutching the
envelope in both hands and pressed her body against the front door as if she
never wanted it to open again. She remained like that for a few moments and
then gathered up enough composure to walk across the white tiled floors of the
large foyer, through the great room and into the kitchen. There she poured
herself another cup of coffee, went back to the great room, reached into the bar
and added a healthy splash of Baileys. Heaven knows she would need it!
Pulling the pale yellow robe around her otherwise nude body until her perky
nipples pressed hard against the silk fabric, she retied the sash, and took the
coffee and the envelope upstairs to her personal study. There in complete
solitude, she eased her nervous body into her reading chair. She lit a
cigarette then touched a flame to the wick of the jasmine scented candle on the
table by her chair. Sunlight that would flirt with the 90 degree range later in
the day filtered through the sheers behind opened flowered drapes and cast a
warm glow around her small but sumptuously decorated study.
The upstairs air conditioner kicked in and the low humming was all that
interrupted her thoughts as she stared at the envelope. The humming distracted
her. She got up, put Beethoven's Seventh Symphony on the CD player and sat down
to music in which she could get lost. And she felt lost, beginning to doubt her
desires and questioning how had she let it go this far? Courage, or was it
curiosity, came from somewhere deep within her. She pulled the tab back on the
envelope and withdrew the documents. Just as the voice had said, they were all
there: a Personal Services Agreement, a Schedule of Payments, a Waiver of
Liability and a Power of Attorney.
She looked at the documents without reading, knowing that she would read them;
she would have to, but at that moment, all she could do was question her own
sanity. No one could be this insane. Or could they? As she stared at the
documents, she drew heavily on the cigarette and sipped frequently at the
Baileys and coffee.
Then she began to read. The documents were expertly drafted; she should know,
for at that moment she still was an attorney. She continued. The more she read
the more her sensations built under her robe, her thighs ached suddenly in a
strange way. Her tummy fluttered then tightened and the documents danced before
her eyes as her hands began shaking. She finished the three pages of the
Personal Services Agreement and glanced at the schedule of payments. It was
exactly as the voice said it would be. She picked up the one page Waiver of
Liability and finally the brief Power of Attorney. By then, the sensations
consumed her body and became overwhelming, desperately begging for attention.
She untied the sash of the robe and lifted her feet to the ottoman in front of
the reading chair.
She opened the robe and let it fall away from the front of her nude body then
placed the documents on the chair side table. Her eyes glanced at her body and
wanted to touch it in a passion like never before. The fingers of her right
hand found the glistening sex as her left hand began roaming across her breasts.
She pinched her nipples and drove her fingers deeper against the insatiable
craving of her lower body. Her mind raced back to the ridge, to the great room
of Sophia's ranch house and the whipping so skillfully administered. Within
30-seconds she was exploding as if she were twenty years younger and making love
for the first time. The spasms ebbed; fingers wiped over the firmness of her
abdomen, and then drew the robe around her, almost ashamed at what she had just
done
She lit another cigarette and drained the last of the coffee and Baileys. The
aroma of her secretions wafted around the room mingling with the fragrance of
the jasmine candle. She picked up the documents again and flipped through them
to the blank signature line on each. One thought pervaded her mind ... would I
actually sign myself into slavery?
Her mind digressed for a moment ... $300,000 for a five-year contract. $50,000
payable upon purchase and $50,000 paid annually into a trust. Money wasn't the
issue; it was, in truth a pittance compared to what she gleaned from her
practice. She reflected on the voice, how the voice outlined details that left
her literally trembling. But what struck her most poignantly was that this was
not idle chatter; this was planned completely.
She closed her eyes and sank deeper against the chair. Where was this perverse
fascination with servitude originating? When did it start? As her hand
lingered slowly around her now satiated sex, her mind traced back to an event
that happened when she was 14...
...She was in high school and a starter on the freshman girl's basketball team.
After practice one afternoon, there was some chiding between her and another
girl on the team, Lynn. She was taller but far less developed. Kara, on the
other hand was well on her way to the 36 C's that graced her body today. It
started verbally with each taunting, Lynn making fun of Kara's breasts, and Kara
retorting that Lynn was jealous since she was so flat and barely had any hint of
boobs. There was some pushing in the shower but it stopped short of an
amateurish catfight. Confident that she'd won, she had toweled off and put on
her bra and panties when Lynn reappeared with three other members of the team.
An all out scuffle ensued. Kara was overpowered and drug half clothed and
screaming back into the shower, pushed under the cold water and her soaked
lingerie ripped off. With the other three girls holding her arms behind her and
keeping her under the spray, Lynn attacked her with her hands venting her fury
at those well-formed boobs, virginal sex and anguished face. Finally, she drove
her fist into Kara's stomach and left her doubled-up on the floor of the shower
gasping for breath. What made it worse was that every member of the team stood
egging her on.
...That same evening, in bed between bouts of tears and humiliation, she
replayed the scene over and over in her formative mind. Somehow the shame, the
humiliation she'd experienced began to turn into strange sensations of pleasure
as if it were the only way to make sense of what happened. She imagined them
again, this time in her room standing triumphantly around the bed glaring down
at her, stretched and tied to the corners of the bed, and the four of them
continuing the beating and inserting things into her. The thoughts wouldn't
leave and she frigged off again and again to that image and the experience in
the locker room.
And now, here she was, at 41, relishing in her own secretions. Her mind flicked
from the locker room scene to the experience with Sophia. It raced to other
situations she'd encountered in the 27 years between these events. In each she
was the submissive, the object, be it at age 27 with a man, or at age 32 with a
lover, Diane, who has used her for months sadistically. But in actuality, in
her mind, the feelings never subsided; only found a more hidden, less
conspicuous place in her psyche, turning into demons that ravaged her ancient
history.
Now there was Sophia, The Coterie, the voice on then phone and the documents
that lay beside her on the table. Demons of that nature could not be so easily
dismissed.
After work on Friday, she sat in the law office of Elizabeth, a friend and
colleague who dealt in legal situations closer to these documents than her own
narrow specialty of software licensing. Elizabeth also was a practitioner and
devotee of dominant and submissive activities whom she'd met originally at a
scene party. Elizabeth reviewed the documents, paying particular attention to
the Personal Services Agreement. "This is interesting," she stated slowly as
she took her reading glasses off the bridge of her nose, "In essence, you are a
commodity. We both know slavery is illegal. But as to how this particular
document is written, you're being treated like goods to be purchased. Now if
something should arise and this came before a judge, it would be tossed out in
all likelihood. But, honey, there are some crackpot judges out there, as we
both know, who might entertain this concept as legally binding."
Kara exhaled the cigarette smoke slowly and sank back into the sofa.
"Do you really want to do this? And, if you do, would you stay here? Be
allowed to maintain your practice? Your marriage?" She picked up her glass of
Irish whiskey over ice and sipped, studying Kara intently.
Kara sipped her own Irish whiskey and water. "I don't know the answer to any of
those questions, Elizabeth" she replied, "I really don't. Would you think I was
crazy?"
"Maybe, but there is an escape clause in here. If you don't work out or want to
leave after two weeks, you do have that option. It's clearly stated."
Kara put down the glass. "Yes, I saw that. I guess I've got some thinking to
do, then..."
That evening Kara sat alone again within the solace of her study. Her mind
reached back to Sophia then back farther to her husband, the coolness and lack
of passion in his relationship with her. In a moment of naivete, frustration
and desire, she sighed each document and penned beneath her signature 'I'd like
to talk about this face to face.' She sorted the copies and stuffed the
originals in the envelope The Coterie provided. In her mid, she felt the
weekend would provide an adequate buffer of time, allowing her to decide to
actually mail the envelope on Monday.
Tuesday afternoon around 4:30, Kara's cell phone rang. The voice again
beckoned, "I see you follow instructions reasonably well. Now ... copy down
this address, then, leave the office. Take only your purse. Be sure to have
your cell phone on. Say nothing to anyone. I expect to see you exit the front
door of your building within two minutes." The call ended, leaving Kara
breathless.
She drove her Volvo to a shopping plaza some 15 miles away from her office and
parked. Her fragmented mind rushed through all possible scenarios and brushed
past the legality of the documents she'd signed and mailed ... maybe they are
willing to talk face to face ... maybe just clarify some issues, ask some
questions ... Probably just go somewhere for a drink.
Within a couple of minutes, a dark green minivan with deep tinted windows pulled
up in the adjacent parking spot. The rear sliding door opened and a woman's
raised voice resonated out of the van indicating for Kara to get in and bring
her purse. Kara did so and settled into the right rear captain's chair while
the sliding door shut automatically, then locked. She turned to her left to
look more closely at the woman who beckoned her. She open her mouth but the
words 'hi, I'm Kara, I'm pleased to meet you' never escaped. Without warning
from behind her in the rear of the van, strong hands grabbed at her arms and
pulled them around the sides of the seat. Cuffs were snapped around each wrist
and secured her hands behind the seat back.
"Please ... don't!" She yelled. She squirmed until a slap across her face
silenced both her words and her struggles. A hood was forced down over her face
and ash blonde hair. She shook her head violently from side to side until a
blow against her tummy left her gasping for breath. Hands tugged the hood
quickly to her neck and zipped it down the back of her head. Scissors began at
the hem of her red skirt. She kicked at something unseen but succeeded only in
driving her foot into the back of the front seat. By now the scissors reached
her waist, and hands ripped the skirt from her body. The white blouse was next
and hands tugged the buttons apart while the scissors cut the bra away from her
breasts and then meticulously cut the blouse to shreds.
"Lift your hips, bitch, and be quick about it!" It was the voice, the same one
that had chilled her on the cell phone. Kara contracted her sore tummy muscles,
tightened her legs and lifted her hips as far from the seat as she could. She
felt the material of her panties and pantyhose cut apart and pulled crudely
away, exposing her body. She sensed moisture between her inner thighs. Her
thought was interrupted by another hand removing her black high-heeled pumps
from her feet and forcefully yanking the remnants of the pantyhose off her feet.
Coolness settled over Kara's nude body and she gasped air into her lungs through
tiny slits around the nose of the hood. She sank back against the seat while
hands worked the shoes back on her feet. Pounding ebbed and slowly subsided.
She felt the familiar secretions matting around her labial lips and she wanted
desperately to wipe it away. Had her unseen captors noticed?
They drove for a few minutes until Kara quickly lost all sense of direction.
The delicate touch of feminine fingers traced across her sex and she heard the
voice again, "I see you haven't been keeping yourself smooth here. We'll
change that, of course, and a few other things as well. We'll be there in five
minutes."
Kara could only nod and wonder where 'there' was? After a sharp turn, the van
came to a stop and the doors were quickly opened. She felt a collar wrapped
around her neck and heard the buckle snap shut. Someone unfastened her wrists.
She felt a sharp tug pulled her neck. "Lets go, bitch! Out!
Hooded, collared and leashed, Kara stumbled across a parking lot she could not
see. Fingers wrapped around her upper arms and guided her through the rear door
of an old building. She was tugged, pulled, guided down a corridor and into a
small room. A chair was pushed behind her knees. "Sit down." Kara slowly
inched back until hands shoved against her shoulders and forced her into an old
wooden chair.
"I'm going to remove the hood now, but before I do, I want you to sit quietly
and consider your situation. First of all, you don't know where you are.
Secondly, you are without a stitch of clothing. What you wore when you entered
the van has now become rags and is being burned in the alley behind the building
as I speak. Am I getting my point across, bitch?"
Kara nodded. Almost as an afterthought she added, "Yes Ma'am."
The voice continued. "The contents of your purse are being sorted through in
another part of the building. Anything we find that should be mailed to that
cheating scum of a man you call a husband will be done so tonight. There'll be
a typed note enclosed telling him you are safe and have chosen to leave him.
Your car will be removed from where we left it. Now, the hood."
Kara felt fingers work the zipper up slowly, taking care to keep her hair from
getting entwined in the zipper until the hood was pulled free. She blinked her
eyes and adjusted her vision to the bright light of the room. Three women stood
before her, each attired in a crimson robe that fell to the ankles. The only
difference being that one robe was trimmed with gold. Kara surmised that woman
was the voice that had tormented her mind. She stared at each in turn without
recognizing any of the faces that stared down at her. Her gaze went beyond the
women and focused on the bareness of the room, the old red brick walls and
chipped paint of the doorway. Her eyes fell on the two iron rings mounted into
the wall about head height and six feet apart. She could only guess at what
they were there for.
The woman adorned in the robe with gold trim spoke in the alto voice Kara had
heard over the phone. "There is no escape from this point on. What was your
home is no longer your home. What was your work is no longer your work. You
have entered into our world. You have become property of The Coterie."
An anguish shriek spilled from Kara's lips. Chilsl crawled over her naked flesh
as she recalled Maya's ranting from three weeks ago. She screamed again, this
time a clearly definable "NO!" echoed throughout the room. She felt tears form
in the corners of her eyes and race down her cheeks. She buried her face in her
hands and sobbed while her body shook uncontrollably. Although she was
unfettered at the moment, she felt incapable of rising from the chair.
"Yes, I'm sure you feel a certain sadness. Change is fraught with emotion, but
discovery requires a journey. Cry, slave, cry it out." the woman spoke softly
and paused until the pinnacle of emotion began to subside. Then she continued,
"Let me explain the evening's events. You are in the basement dressing room of
an old theatre. Although plays are no longer staged here, tonight this theatre
will once again witness drama as it has for us in the past. This time the drama
will be you and your future. In approximately an hour and a half, you will be
led onstage just as you are now, naked as the day you came into this world.
Your wrists will be restrained behind your back. Your sex will once again be
smooth before you go on stage. Once you are there, you will be expected to
stand quietly, yet erect and proud.
The woman paused and looked at Kara deeply. "Someone will come forward and
speak on your behalf. You will, the entire time, remain displayed. Though this
theatre seats approximately 100, there will be only 10-12 women in the audience.
At the conclusion of that speech, you will be given certain commands. If you
are told to spread, you will spread. If you are told to turn, you will turn.
Then after a few minutes, there will be bids placed. In essence, you will be
auctioned. The process will be silent. Each woman will submit a sealed bid.
The one who submits the highest bid will walk away with your leash. You will
give nothing less than 100%. If you give less, then you will be thrashed
severely to the point that what you endured in Colorado will seem like child's
play until you comply. Do I make myself clear?"
Tears burst from her eyes again and she murmured a weak 'Yes Ma'am.' Though
thoughts of who would speak for her quickly ravaged her mind, she dared not ask.
The woman looked at her watch and then straight at Kara and nodded, "Then we
have no need of further conversation. It's precisely 6:36. The performance
begins at 8;00." She turned and looked at the woman on her right. "Prepare her
accordingly ..."
At 7:55, a freshly showered and prepped Kara stood off stage right. The simple
collar that had been secured around her neck before she left the van had been
replaced with an exact copy of the one she wore during her weekend with Sophia,
a thin black leather collar embellished with crystal and a single small d-ring
hung in front. To this d-ring her leash was attached and the short leash
dangled between her breasts. Her wrists were bound with crimson cords snuggly
behind her back. The woman selected to be her handler reached for the end of
the leash and gave one final look at her captive, then with a tug on the leash
led Kara to center stage to a spot the handler knew by heart even in the dark.
The house lights of the old theatre were already darkened. The clicking of
Kara's heels across the old wooden stage and the plodding of her handlers bare
feet were the only noises heard. When she was positioned facing the audience,
her back straight, her hair falling to her shoulders, three spotlights
illuminated and captured Kara's full nudity in their glare. Blinded by the
intensity of these lights, Kara stared out into the audience, unable to see past
the first row of empty seats.
To her left the shuffling of sandaled feet and the swishing of cloth foretold
the presence of someone. As desperately as she wanted to look, she dared not
turn her head. In a moment, the crimson robe trimmed with gold passed into the
corner of her vision and stopped and the voice resonated into the old theatre,
"I bid welcome to the each Countess of the Order of the Coterie. Tonight there
will be two offerings presented for your consideration. The first you see
before you, the second subject has just been led into the preparation room due
to an unfortunate incident with her attitude. She will be brought onstage when
you have finished with this one. You see before you, Kara, age 41. You each
have been given the dossier on her, which in addition to the standard bio we've
assembled includes the pictures and comments provided by Countess Sophia.
Momentarily, you will hear intimate details provided by the one who speaks on
her behalf. Her contract is for $300,000 and five years. Place your bids
accordingly. As always, our evening will conclude with the Feast of
Consecration of the goddess in the suite upstairs. We shall now begin."
The robed figure disappeared. The clicking of another set of heels resonated
from stage right. An unidentifiable figure of a woman now positioned her body
behind the podium and clicked on a tiny blue light that illuminated the surface
of the podium.
Kara took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Silently she whispered a small
prayer for courage.
