“Did he pay you, after?”
Claire nodded, her eyes filling up with tears.
“Why are we so easily led away by these guys? And who are they?”
“Maybe we should take off the necklaces. Then they wouldn't know we're Stunners’ girls.”
“Good idea.” But they both just sat there on the bed, staring at each other.
“You first,” Claire said.
“Okay.” She reached up and unfastened the clasp and pulled the necklace away. Immediately, her breasts and groin began to tingle, then burn. Her mouth fell open.
“What?”
“You try it,” she said, trying to keep from putting it back on.
Claire unhooked her necklace and pulled it away. Her eyes flew open and she immediately put it back around her neck. Marti followed suit, noting at once that her pain decreased.
“You felt it? The burning?”
Claire nodded. “We can't take them off!”
“So somehow the word is getting out. These strangers know all about Stunners and Dave Smithers and the conspiracy to turn women into sluts.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Remember a couple months ago when we tried to take everything off?” Marti asked. “How it was tough, but after a few minutes it felt better?”
“Well, yeah, but neither one of us lasted five minutes once we were away from each other.”
“Yeah, but this time, I think we're going to have to try harder. Remember, it's like a drug, like cigarettes or something. We can get through it if we try.”
“I don't know...”
“Would you rather explain to Steve that you'll fuck anyone who comes up to you and orders you to follow him?”
Claire closed her eyes. “No.”
“Good. Then let's do it.”
“Right now?”
“Yes, right now. I know it's gonna hurt.”
“Fuck.”
“Look, I'll go first.”
Marti stood up and, with trembling hands, unclasped her bra. When it fell away from her breasts, she felt the ants swarm and bit her lip. She quickly stripped off her panties and stood there, moving from one foot to another, not sure if she could stand it. But she had withstood whippings and spankings, why couldn't she stand this?
“The necklace,” Claire said, pointing. “Can you take that off too?”
Marti reached up and tried, but her hands were shaking too much. “Can you do it? Hurry!”
Claire unclasped it and pulled it free. The intensity of the feeling was growing worse now. She could barely hang on. She waited for it to get better, but it didn't. The last time she had been without her Stunners, it had eased after a few minutes. Not now.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god it hurts!” Sweat burst out of all her pores and she felt sick.
“Don't hurt yourself! Here!” Claire thrust her bra at her and Marti quickly put it on. The pain eased and she grabbed her panties and pulled them on. The pain diminished but did not go away.
“It's better, but...”
“The necklace!” Claire exclaimed and handed it to her.
Marti's hands shook but she managed to get it fastened. The pain disappeared.
“Oh god, that was awful!”
Claire looked stricken. “You couldn't stand it? At all?”
“No. You wanna try it?”
“After watching you? No.” She shivered.
“The effect is cumulative. The time to stop it was weeks ago. Now we're trapped.”
“And so is every other woman who ever bought one of these bras,” Claire said.
“Fucking Dave! I wish I'd never seen that store!”
“We've got to call the police! Or someone who can help us!”
Marti nodded. “What would we say? Help, I'm trapped by my underwear? They'd laugh at us.”
“If they observed what happens when we try to remove them, they may not laugh! Our skin gets all blotchy.”
“You're right.” Marti went to the phone. “Who should we call?”
“Detectives in the fraud division, I guess.”
She looked up the number for the nearest precinct and dialed.
“Police Department.”
“Uh, fr—” She stopped and looked back at Claire. Her voice had frozen in her throat. What was worse, she felt those ants start up in her underwear.
“Ma'am? Are you all right?”
“Wrong number,” she said and the pain faded. She hung up.
“What the hell happened?”
“Our underwear apparently doesn't want us to call the cops.”
* * * *
It surprised Marti, but she actually got used to men coming up to her and demanding she go with them. After all, she needed regular sex and whippings, so why not? The men all seemed professional. She had yet to meet a homeless man who knew what her necklace meant.
And best of all, they paid her. Sometimes just fifty bucks, sometimes as much as two hundred. She could use the money so she took it without feeling cheap or demeaned. Or perhaps that was just the Stunners talking.
Not all of them took her to nice hotels or to their apartments. One day, she was approached by a businessman who said, “Stunners,” and Marti just nodded and followed him as he led the way down the street. He turned down an alley and she thought there might be a loft entrance back then. When he stopped behind a dumpster that was stinking of sour garbage and unzipped his pants, Marti just stared at him.
“What? Here?”
He slapped her breasts, left and right, and she gasped in shock. She dropped to her knees and sucked him off. When he squirted into her throat, he pulled out and zipped up and started to walk away.
“Hey!” She called out after him.
He paused and turned around.
“Aren't you going to pay me?”
He laughed and pulled a twenty out of his pocket and tossed it on the ground. He left without another word.
Marti snatched up the money and stuffed it into her purse. Her mouth felt sticky with his come and her knees hurt. She staggered to her feet and fled back to her apartment.
Once inside, she stripped off her outerwear as usual and flopped down on the couch. It was hard to imagine how her life could get any stranger.
Her phone rang.
[Back to Table of Contents]
* * *
Chapter Eleven
In an anonymous downtown tower on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, Dave Smithers surveyed the board room, filled with ten middle-aged men in suits, seven white, two black and one Asian. He smiled. His empire had expanded just as he had predicted. He had gone from an inventor in his basement with a crazy idea to CEO of an expanding empire.
His original roll-out plan had to be rapidly accelerated due to demand and he had hired dozens of like-minded men to run his little shops. Their efforts had allowed him to start up his website months earlier than planned and now the orders were pouring in. There had been some inquires from the media about his revolutionary new design, which he did not encourage, and Stunners was still flying under the radar, but barely. He knew time was running out. His only worry now was that he'd have enough eager customers to thwart any serious investigations into his products.
He had modeled his empire on sci-fi movie plots, where innocent citizens are taken over by aliens. Because they look just like everyone else, no one realizes what was happening until it was too late. When women put on the Stunners, they felt sexier and more alive. Soon they can't live without them. Later, they find the crave sex, abuse and obedience.
That was his master plan, to return mankind to earlier times, when men were in charge and women obeyed. That verb has even been removed from wedding vows! Tragic. Women fought for their equality to the detriment of men. Dave Smithers was going to put things right.
“Gentlemen,” he said. All eyes focused on him. “We are close to achieving our goal. We have sold one hundred million sets of Stunners. We estimate that each woman has, on average, three sets. That means w
e now have more than thirty million women under our control.”
The men cheered.
He held up a hand. The room grew silent.
“But we are not out of the woods yet. The federal government still could shut us down. As you know, early on, I provided free outfits to every female member of the Federal Trade Commission, the Federal Drug Administration and the Justice Department. That has succeeded in blunting the government's investigation of us and allowed us to expand our base. Our internet sales are running at two thousand sets a day—and increasing all the time.”
The men nodded and smiled in appreciation.
“So we have to remain vigilant during the next phase. We want nearly every woman in America to own a set of Stunners. That means, if we have to, we'll give them away free to the right women.” He smiled when he saw their shocked expressions. “Don't worry, once we reach critical mass, we can charge what we want for them.”
Dave paused and took a sip of water. “There are one hundred fifty seven million women in the United States. We control only a fraction of them. Now, we can toss out the very young and the very old, leaving about eighty-five million between the ages of twenty and sixty. But with our current customers giving great word of mouth—they can't say otherwise!—we expect to reach our goal of sixty million women under our control in six months, giving us critical mass.”
The board cheered again. And why not? He had made them all very rich.
He held up his hand again and the room quieted. “While we are rolling out our next phase, it is time for the programmers to finalize the next phase. I have given them the outline of what we want to accomplish, but I need assistance as to the delivery system.
“As you know, the Stunners were simply a means to an end. I don't think any red-blooded American male wants their wives or girlfriends trapped in their underwear forever.”
The men all nodded in agreement.
“So we have been working on an effective substitute. You've all seen the necklaces, which have the same properties as the bras, but they really are not much more than a good way to show who's a Stunner girl and who's not. They lack the power to control women by themselves—something to do with surface area, I'm told. One idea that has shown some promise is a tattoo. My researchers tell me that by injecting the nano-bots directly into the skin, we might be able to replicate the power of the bra and panties.” He paused and smiled. “I was thinking of the word ‘Slut’ tattooed on their pussies, eh?”
One man in the back shouted, “Oh yeah!” and the others laughed.
Dave grinned. “That's the spirit. The researchers are working to determine the right size type—they're talking about an inch to an inch-and-a-half. They've asked me to find them a ‘volunteer’ to test it. I have someone already in mind. Okay, that's where we stand. Let's be vigilant during the next few months and if you hear of any rumblings, let's get our Stunners out to the right people—and that could include the wives or girlfriends of influential men.” He pointed at a man to his right. “Robert Shepherd here is in charge of freebies. Let's give him plenty of names. Okay, that's it.”
The board members split up and Dave headed down the hall to his spacious office. His secretary looked up from her post outside. She was wearing a sheer dress that showed her black Stunners underneath. She smiled broadly.
“How did the meeting go, Mr. Smithers?”
He smiled. “Just fine, Marti, just fine. Could you come inside for a minute? I need you for something. Oh, and, bring the riding crop.”
Marti nodded and leapt to obey. The riding crop was always left on her desk to torment her—she was ordered not to touch it herself unless given permission. She snatched it up and took it inside, pausing once she closed the door to remove her dress.
Dave looked up and nodded his approval.
“You look great today, Marti. Very slutty.”
“Thank you sir.” She came forward and waited, the crop held out with both hands.
“I have a request of you.”
“Yes, sir?”
“I know you've been worried about wearing your Stunners all the time and what it might be doing to you and all—well, I have a way that you could stop wearing them, if you wanted to.”
Marti's eyebrows went up. “Really, sir?” She wasn't sure if that's what she wanted, but she did recall it had once been her desire, a long time ago.
“Oh yes.”
“How ... how would that be possible?”
“It's just something the researchers have cooked up. I would like you to volunteer.”
She didn't like the sound of that. “Do I have to, sir?”
He came forward and plucked the riding crop from her hands. “Oh no, of course not.” He waved the crop around a few times in mid-air, while Marti's eyes followed it. “You may go.”
She felt her body lurch. It was so cruel of him! “But ... sir...”
He turned to look at her but she kept her eyes on the crop. He seemed to suddenly notice.
“Oh, this? Is this what you want?”
“Yessss, please.”
“So then you'll agree to go see my researchers immediately afterward?”
Marti nodded, knowing she was in for some new torment but she didn't care. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. I thought you'd say that. Come.” He waved her to his desk. She bent over, sticking her ass up and waited.
He slapped her hard through her panties and she jerked, but it felt so good. “Ohhh, yes, sir, that's it,” she cooed.
He hit her again and again while her orgasm rose up inside her. When she couldn't stand it anymore, she begged him to hit her tits and he stepped back and allowed her to turn around and drop to her knees on the carpet. He reared back and hit her left breast, then her right and Marti felt she was on her verge of climax. Just a few more blows...
He stopped, breathing hard.
“Sir! Please!”
“I think it's time you went downstairs now. See Mr. Beasely in Room 2135.”
Marti stood at once, her body trembling. “Can't I please come first, sir?”
“No you may not. But if you cooperate, Mr. Beasely may help you out.”
She had met Beasely twice and knew he liked her. He was a typical lab rat, thin and pale and eager to talk her up. She could tell he wanted her but was too shy to demand sex. Up until now, Dave had kept her mostly to himself, using her only to entertain some important businessmen now and then. She had guessed her life would turn out this way once she had been offered the job as Dave's secretary, but there had been little she could do about it. She had needed a job, after all, and being close to him meant she could get new bras and panties anytime. Fucking a few strangers hadn't been such a high price to pay. They all had treated her well and whipped her until she had been ready to fuck them.
But now, as she slipped on her dress and headed down to the next floor, she worried. What was Dave cooking up now? Hadn't he already enslaved millions of women? What could he possibly want her to test?
She took the stairs because it gave her more time to think. Since she had started her new job, he had lost touch with Claire and Steve. It had seemed surprising that she could do without her friends so easily, but Dave kept her pretty busy. When she wasn't at work, she lived with him, although she was not his exclusive girlfriend by any means. Often he had another woman over—always another Stunner victim—and sometimes she would watch her writhe under the lash before he fucked her. She thought she should've felt jealous, but she just felt left out.
She entered the lab and found Brian Beasely. His face lit up when he saw her.
“Marti! So good to see you!”
She nodded. “Mr. Smithers said I should come down. You had something ... some kind of test?”
“Yes! We do.” Brian winked at another researcher, a man Marti only knew as Ben. He was another nerd, more heavy-set and taller than Brian, but his eyes looked her up and down just the same. As aroused as she was, she would not have minded if either of them asked for a qui
ck fuck.
“Come with me.” Brian led her into a smaller room, where a leather examination chair waited. It was cranked to a forty-five degree angle. A man with tattoos running down one arm waited there, smiling slightly. “Take off your clothes,” he said.
Marti shrugged off her dress. She was not embarrassed to be seen in her Stunners. Nearly everyone at the office had at one time or another. But her heart pounded because she did not know what was about to happen to her.
“Now, for this next phase, I'm going to ask you to drink this,” he said, picking up a glass from a nearby table and holding it out to her. It appeared to contain orange juice.
She looked up, questioningly. “What's in it?”
“It's kind of a nano-bot cocktail. Plus a sedative.”
“W-why do I need that?”
Brian glanced at Ben and returned to stare at her. He cocked his head. “Well, I know having you wear your Stunners all the time can present some problems, am I right?”
She shrugged. She had learned to deal with it. So far, no one seemed to be complaining about fucking her while she kept her underwear on.
“We're trying to come up with a way that would allow you to remove them—when you wanted to, of course.”
Her eyebrows went up. That sounded intriguing. “Really?”
“Oh yes. It's a big project for Stunners.”
“But why? Why would you want to have women not want to wear your product?”
“Uh ... you could say it's part of our evolving company culture.”
That sounded like bullshit even to Marti. “Come on, what's the real reason?”
Brian looked over at Ben and he went to a drawer and pulled out a riding crop. She gasped and her body ached for it.
“If you drink the juice, I'll let Ben here whip you until you come.”
She nodded and grabbed the glass. It tasted like OJ, but there was an aftertaste.
“First, I want a blowjob,” Ben spoke up for the first time.
Marti dropped to her knees and unzipped him. She had become an expert at getting men off and Ben was no different. Within two minutes, he gasped and squirted into her mouth. When she pulled back, the room was beginning to grow dimmer.
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