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Searching for Enlightenment
  • Author - I. Binder  
  • Rating -   
  • Site Rank - 570 of 2737
  • Unique Views - 24391
  • Story Codes - F-f, Other-f, non-consensual, reluctant, bondage, chastity, electricity, enema, extreme, machine, slavery, toys, tricked
  • Post Date - 4/18/2011
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Author's Note: This story is seen through the eyes of and explores the mind of a young woman who disolutioned goes looking for something different in her life. She quickly finds a lot more than she had bargained expected or for which she was prepared.


Chapter 1

[How is Starts]

She was only 23, she was reasonably attractive, some people said more than reasonably, she was a collage graduate and her life sucked. Yes, it officially sucked. It wasn't that it was filled with disasters, she wasn't' about to spend the rest of her life in prison, she did not have a fatal disease that would kill her in the next six months, she wasn't pregnant. That was just it, she just wasn't!

She had taken up an apartment with Chris during their senior year in college. Both of them graduated at the same time, he in business, her in Zoology. She still wasn't sure how she ended up with that major. It wasn't like she was a freak about saving the world's animals. She did think the different developments and function of different species and even groups within species was interesting, but, in order to really do anything with her degree she had to go on to post graduate work, and by the time she had finished her undergraduate degree she was really tired of school.

She had a reasonable GPA at 3.1, but she had not been able to find any real use for it or her degree after graduation. Chris, on the other hand had scored a good job within a month, most notably a big screen television. She had thought there were other priorities, but it was his money and it was hard for her to argue how he spent it. Then last month Chris had just announced it was over.

"Sam." He said. She hated the name Sam. Her name was Samantha, but every Samantha ends up saddled with the nickname Sam. She had tried Sammy, but she didn't like that much better. "Our lives have moved in different directions since we got together. I think it is time for me to go. I have rented another place so I will leave you with this one. All I am taking are my clothes and the big screen I bought. You can have the rest. I have paid the rent through the end of the month, and you can have the deposit. I'll be out by the weekend." And true to his word he was out by the weekend. He had moved into a place much more suited to his new professional capacity. Within a week he even had some fancy air head hanging on his arm. She wasn't sure she wanted to know but her friends made a point of telling her. To make things worse all of her friends were in committed relationships that meant they did not have room for a single friend without a significant other.

So here she was, she had no job, no boyfriend, and almost no money. She had a 10 year old car, a student loan, and furniture that the Salvation Army would probably not take as a donation. She had enough money left in her checking account for the next two months. After that she was in real trouble. She had to find something and she needed to do it right now. She had been applying for jobs in retail, but she did not have the right personality for that. She knew it and the interviewers also seemed to know it. She had even tried being a barista, but had lost that position to some 17 year old with slightly larger breasts. She could try to land a guy, but two months wasn't much time to find someone that would not turn her stomach and get to the lets share expenses stage. She had no single friends that she could land on and she did not expect any of her married friends to oblige. Her father was dead and her mother lived in a retirement home in San Francisco consuming whatever might be left of an in heritance that she might see, although she did not begrudge that. She only hoped there was enough that she didn't have to start helping financially since she could not even help herself.

She knew if she didn't get her head in the right position she would never express the right energy to get a good job, or anything else for that matter. Her yoga had helped, but she couldn't afford the classes anymore and had dropped out. That really hurt. She still tried to meditate in the afternoon, when she was not interviewing, but she could not clear her mind. She still had her Internet, so she had been cruising yoga sites looking for new things to try (if she had been a guy she could just use porn sites.) when she found a site that seemed to be looking for information from people like her. It identified her frustration with knowing she was smart but not being able to use it. It identified her anger at the lack of meaning to most human interactions. It talked about experimental yoga and meditation designed to reach calm in this world and give one the tools to prevail. She really didn't know why she was reading. She had no money to pay to join anything, even a web site. But, at least so far, it was not asking for any money. Then she came to the part where it said there were scholarships being offered for a new experimental program. It would require a one year commitment and total dedication to the teachings. She could do that.

She clicked into the application area and prepared what was called a preliminary application. In included such information as her marital, educational, work and family background. When she was filling out the work part she thought her current situation might actually be of aid to her. It asked if the applicant was willing or able to take a year away from their job. She certainly was. It did ask for some financial information, but she had been use to that on scholarship applications in college. It wanted to know if she had any long term leases, mortgages, or loans that could not be deferred for a year. She was good there. She had her student loans, but she was willing to forget those for a year. Her car was paid for and there was only two months left on the lease. It was in Chris' name anyway. She could actually walk away tomorrow. It asked if she was willing to live without contact with other human beings for extended periods of time. She was so fed up with human beings that she would be happy to be where there were none. She had had it up to her eyeballs with the crowds of people in LA. Finally it asked her to activate her web cam on her computer. She did. Then she was asked to do a close up into cam, then profile, then to move back for a full body view. This seemed a little strange, but she wasn't asked to do anything strange so she did it. "Well that was fun", she thought. It had actually improved her spirits a bit. Although she figured this was right up there with her lottery ticket. What were the chances she would be accepted for such a thing?

The next day she received an e-mail from the website. She was a finalist. She was afraid to give in to her excitement. She wanted this. She didn't even know all the details yet, but she really wanted it. She had had just too much rejection the last six months. She couldn't get this far and then lose it. She was instructed to go to the website and to log on for an on-line chat interview. The questions got very personal including things about her sexual experience and activities that she thought was off base, but just as she was about to object to a line of questions the interviewer moved to something else. Then she was told it was in for final consideration. She would know in a week. As a final part of the process she had to agree now to the following:

If accepted she would have 30 days to get her affairs in order. She would have to close up her apartment. Either sell or put her belongings in storage and make arrangements for the payment for at least the next year. She could set up a bank account with automatic payments, but she would be unable to look at or even think about the account for the year. She would receive a stipend of $500 per month that would go to the account and she could allocate it, but during the year of the program there were be nothing involving money. She would have none to spend and would have no need of any. This sounded pretty good to her right then. Of course she agreed.

She would have no contact with any of her old friends or any contacts from the beginning of the program until it was finished. Upon acceptance she would hand over her cell phone and contact would stop. She was certainly willing to do that.

She would swear off all material things for the year. She would be given what she needed and she would rely only upon what she was provided. Ok, a little more difficult, but she understood the concept.

Her diet would be only natural wholesome foods provided specially for her; they would be low in sugars, fats, and chemicals. There would be no access to junk food during the program. She could do that too. Again difficult, but if the temptation was not around she knew she could do it.

She would commit her mind, body and soul to the words and teachings of the Master. Only through absolute belief could she find enlightenment. Ok, this was the normal Zen bullshit, but she knew the drill. Yes, of course.

She really was excited now. This was sounding better and better all the time.

It was only 4 days when she received the next e-mail. She had been accepted and sponsored. Her report date was in 30 days. She would receive a package with preparatory materials a day or two before her departure date. She would need to use her own car to drive to the location. It was about a 7 hour drive so she should make sure her car was up to it. In the mean time she needed to complete all of the other required tasks, including closing out her apartment. There was another questionnaire for her to complete. It called for all of her measurements. ALL. Including her wrists, ankles, neck, chest above and below her breasts, waist, hips, arm length, instep. Everything. It explained that she would be wearing special garments and they needed to fit. She was told to be very careful with the measurements and even to measure twice before accepting the number. She wasn't going to blow this now over a few body measurements. So she did it and had all the information back to them the next day. She would have done it the same day but she had to borrow a tape.

The next three weeks ended up being very busy. She was not sure how to describe this to her friends so she finally told them she had been accepted to an ashram where she was going to perform yoga and meditate for a year. They all thought she had lost her mind, but nobody tried very hard to talk her out of it. She sensed that most of them were more than happy to have her out of their hair for a year. And, who knows maybe she would be back with a new better attitude. She was leaving the apartment about three weeks early which did not make the landlord happy. She told him just to keep the deposit. It was Chris' deposit anyway. He complained about that too and she just told him tough.

As the date approached she had everything ready. She had been told that she needed to be able to leave by the morning of the 30th day, so the day before she had the movers come and take what furniture she had determined to keep and place it in storage. She had set up the monthly payments as automatic withdrawals from her bank account as directed. This included virtually all of her clothing. She had been told to keep only one comfortable outfit which would serve only for her to wear while she was driving. She had kept another outfit for the night before in case she wanted to go out and splurge on something before the year began. She figured she would just throw it into the trunk of her car. They had said no make-up, but she had a little in her toiletry kit. They had not mentioned that, but she assumed such basics as a toothbrush and deodorant would be ok. By 3 pm the place was ready. It wasn't clean, but everything was gone. She had actually paid a cleaning lady to come in in the morning after she left and clean it up and then deliver her keys to the landlord. She, by then would be well on her way to her adventure. She wanted to go on-line and check out anything new at the website, but her computer had been packed and taken away; just as they had insisted.

She was curious that the materials she had been expecting had not arrived. But then her bell rang and it was a delivery man with a box. She had him set it in her living room and then he left. Finally, she thought. She opened the top of the box and it revealed a lap top computer. A note taped to the top said: "plug me in and turn me on." Ok, she could do that.

After booting the computer went right into its program. A voice came on.

"Good Afternoon, Samantha. I will walk you through your preparations and travel to the retreat. From this point forward do not turn off this program or the computer. You have been provided an adapter that will allow you to plug it in to the lighter socket in your car when traveling. Do you understand?" Two blocks, YES and NO appeared on the screen. She clicked YES.



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"Very good. Now open compartment one." She did. Inside was a metal belt. It was about two inches wide, about 22" around and appeared to clip into itself where it joined. She lifted it up and inspected it. It was pretty light and very well made. This was no inexpensive item. "Please put that around your waist at the narrowest point below your clothing. Make sure that it joins together in front." She started trying to feed it under her shirt and finally just removed her shirt. It fit nicely and snuggly around her waist. It clicked closed. It was not too tight, although it was shaped in an oval form so it would not rotate. She could not see any latch or mechanism to remove it. She wondered what on earth this was for, what it had to do with either yoga or meditation, but it did look good on her.

"Now open compartment two." She did so. Inside there was a curved somewhat triangular shaped piece of metal and some flexible metal lines that looked like they were woven from some very expensive metal. The entire thing gleamed. "To properly install this you must remove all your clothing below your waist. She had already taken off her shirt. She removed her panties. "All clothing, including undergarments must be removed." The voice continued. How did it know? Must have just anticipated. Well, she was alone, so what. She removed her panties. Now she was dressed only in a silver colored metal belt and her bra. "The metal plate has three lines extending from it. The top part with two lines goes in front with the plate curing down between your legs. Please put the end of each of the two lines over the two hooks below the front of the belt. She had no trouble finding the hooks and feeding the end of each line over one of them. There was about 4 inches of flesh showing above the top of the triangle and between the belt. It really wasn't a triangle. First it curved in under her body. Second the sides extending down in front where not straight, but were cut to allow it to go around her legs. It ended between her legs in a part about one inch wide. There was another line extending from the middle of this part. "Pull the last line between your legs and hook it over the hook in back of the belt." She did as instructed. When all three lines were in place she heard a click and they seemed to lock there. Ok, a chastity belt. But a pretty one none-the-less. She thought. She fingered it. The plate was not too tight. She could reach her fingers underneath it. It would stop most male pursuers, it might slow her down a bit, but it wouldn't stop her. They had not said anything about masturbation. She had not even thought about sex as she was going through this. She expected that she was going to be away from men for a year, but she hoped self pleasure was not off limits. She guessed it would all depend on just how moralistic they were. That could make it more difficult. But she remembered something in the materials about focusing sexual energy. She had a lot of that, although largely unfulfilled and neither focused or exploited of late.

"It is now time for you to be sure about your decision. Do you accept the new adornments that have been provided to you? If yes we will continue. If no you will remove them put them back in the box along with the computer and the box will be picked up. Do you accept?" She shrugged and pushed Yes.

"Very good." Place your cell phone and the personal clothing you removed into compartment 1. Well, ok, she did.

"Open compartment three." She did. Inside were two metal rings about four inches in diameter. Each ring then had six small metal lines similar to those on the chastity belt that met in the middle in a conically shaped something about 1 and half inches across. When she held the ring level the lines held the small cap in the center about 4 – 5 inches below the ring. "You must now remove your bra. This will take its place. You must push each breast into the ring so that the ring encompasses the entire breast and fits around the base of the breast. It is to be maneuvered so that the cap held by the lines will sit directly over the nipple. You will notice that the two rings are joined together. Obviously the joinder is in the middle between your breasts." Samantha found this new device a little intimidating. She turned it over in her hands a few times before she tried it on. She finally figured what harm in trying it on. It looked like something out of an Arabian Nights painting. It actually went on easier than she had thought. She had ample breasts, and apparently the measurements she had provided allowed them to anticipate the necessary sizes. With her help the breasts slipped through the rings. It held them firmly, but not tightly. The rings would not easily fall off, but they could easily be pulled off. She made sure the cap fit over the nipple. It held in place for now, but there was enough slack in the lines to make her wonder how well it would hold there. It provided little for modesty and less if she moved to actively.

"There is another line in that compartment. It connects the two rings from the outside around your back one to the other. Please put it in place." She did. She noticed that there were hooks waiting for it at the necessary locations. "Please check alignment of the caps on the nipples. When you are satisfied push the small button on the outside of the ring." One nipple had slipped out of alignment while she was working with the line across her back. That confirmed her doubt about the efficacy of this fancy bra. She realigned the offending nipple and then she pushed the button. She checked the alignment of the other breast made some minor corrections and pushed that button. The ring tightened up a little. It was still not uncomfortable, but they held much tighter. Now it would not fall off. Then the lines to the nipples each retracted slightly until they actually indented into the flesh of each breast. Now the cap would stay in place. Very clever she thought. She was impressed and more willing to wear this fancy new item. It too, looked very nice.

"Please open compartment four." She did. It was a collar. Also made of the silver material. "Please place around your neck with the clasp in the front." She followed the instructions without question. Who would she question anyway? It clicked into place. It was not tight or uncomfortable. "You will find five lines in the compartment. There are two pairs and then a single longer line." She did. "The two lines marked A attach to the hooks in the front of the collar and then to hooks at the top of the rings at each breasts. Please attach them." She did. That was easy. "The next pair attached at the bottom of each breast ring and then at the top of the waist belt." She found those hooks and applied the lines. "Finally, the longer line attaches at the back of the collar and extends down to the belt." She hooked the line at the collar first and then went looking for the hook at the belt. It took a little more work and she had to lean back a bit, but eventually she got it done. "Please maneuver the back line to your left about an inch." She moved the line. "The other left, please." Oh, ok. She did and felt it snap together with the line around her body from her breast rings. "Please check alignment and press yes when satisfied." She looked at it. She even went into the bathroom to use the mirror. It looked pretty damn sexy. She would love to have some of her girlfriends see her now. If she had a camera she would take a picture. She clicked yes and instantly heard all the hooks click. She ran her fingers over the connection points and realized that when they clicked the hook was pulled up into the belt, ring or collar locking it in place. These folks truly were a space age group. She wondered what the retreat would look like. She started to picture quiet pastoral settings with green grass, flowing fountains, and very enlightened people walking around in flowing togas.

"Do you accept these adornments?" The voice brought her back to the present. The screen displayed the familiar yes or no. Absolutely, she thought this looked just great. She clicked yes.

"This will be your last opportunity to opt out of the program. If you do, remove and return all adornments. Everything will be picked up and you can return to your old life. If you accept the program conditions will be confirmed and you will proceed. You will NOT be asked again. Accepting now is final. Do you accept?"

What choice did she really have at this point? She had given up her apartment. She had sold most of her things. She really wanted a new adventure and something different in her life. This certainly seemed like it was just that. The outfit was a bit strange, but just wearing it made her tingle. What the hell, this is what she had been praying for. She clicked YES.

"Please follow the prompts on the screen and make the appropriate selections."

"Level of Commitment: Average, Strong, Absolute." She was committed, but not great at finishing things – she clicked strong. "Is there waiver in the level of your commitment?" Asked the voice. The block marked Absolute was highlighted. Ok, maybe that is the problem, she didn't work hard enough, she didn't commit herself enough. She clicked on Absolute. She could do this.

"Performance objective: Average, High, Exceptional." Ok, now this was easy she thought. Of course she was going for the best she could. Exceptional.

"Compliance: Moderate, Full, Absolute." How did that differ from the others? She was not sure but again she clicked Absolute. It seemed they were looking for an over achiever. She had not been one, but she could do her best to present as one.

"Correction: significant: moderate, complete." She had no clue what that was supposed to mean so she followed the trend. Complete.

"Level of Correction: Moderate, High, Unlimited." She was following along with the flow – Unlimited. What the hell.

"Sacrifice: Minimal, Major, Absolute. She understood sacrifice. She felt like she had become an expert in this. She also expected anything but Absolute might get her kicked out. She answered Absolute.

"Control: Full, Some, None." She was committed to give this a go, but she was not willing to give up control to others. Every time she did that she got screwed. She was going to keep control, if they didn't like that too bad. She clicked Full.

"Stimulator: Small, Medium, Large." Again, she wished they explained what this meant. It sounded fun. She started to mark Medium and then thought what the hell. She clicked Large.

"Donor modifications allowed, check all that apply: time option allowed, program modification on recommendation." She didn't have a clue what either meant but clicked both yes.

Then the screen flashed into one of those rules and conditions pages. It said scroll through the rules and conditions and mark if you accept. As she always did on these things she pulled the scroll bar down to the bottom, marked "I agree" and clicked OK. The next page listed the conditions as she had answered them. And said: "Accept Conditions?" She was getting tired of this; this sort of thing was part of what she was trying to get away from. She clicked YES. "For god sake, YES." She said to the computer.

"Conditions have been approved. Conditions are final and will be imposed. There is one more task before you may sleep."

"What is that, she was actually talking back to this computer."

"Stimulators are now to be attached. They will remain through the trip to the retreat. Open compartment Five." Ok, what could this be? She opened the compartment. She knew exactly what these were. One was a butt plug, and of pretty good size although at its base it was very small and then flared. It was made of metal, except that about one inch at the smallest point was rubber. At the base it flared into a large rectangular shaped part that would hold it from disappearing into the body. She turned it in her hand and saw what looked like two copper rectangles; there was also a rubber part at the tip that had firm rubber studs on it. The other device was a dildo. It did not have the same tapering base as the butt plug, but did have the copper rectangles and the rubber knobs.

"I don't think so." She said. Why were they not asking her to accept these accoutrements? And they were huge. She remembered the choice for stimulators. She had selected large. Damn. Well she was not putting these in her.



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"Lubricant has been provided. Lubricate and insert the anal device. The front plate lines have been loosed so that it can be removed. The back plate line will remain affixed." She looked at the computer for a place to put in a response. She could see none. "Performance standards not met. Compliance - Absolute. Correction - Complete." The bands circling her breasts tightened. They tightened a lot. Her breasts were forced forward like balloons. Then her nipples erupted with electrical shock. That hurt a lot. She grabbed at the caps holding down tightly on her nipples. "Interference with equipment. Remove hands." Another wave of electricity erupted through her nipples. She removed her hands and it stopped. What now.

"Remove the front plate and insert anal device. You have 30 seconds to complete the task." There was no time to think. She removed the lines from the front of the plate and let it swing down. Then she picked up the butt plug quickly greased it with the KY jelly and pushed it in to her rear. That had not hurt as much as she had expected it to.

"Position is incorrect. Rotate 180 degrees." There was a slight but still painful shock to her nipples. How the hell was she suppose to know. She grabbed the base and turned it 180 degrees. She could feel that the base was curved.

"Insert the vaginal device. You will have another 60 seconds." It appears the computer thought she performed better on a timer. And, it seemed that she did. She had used a dildo before. This was not unfamiliar ground. It was large; at least 7' but she had inserted others just as large for her own personal pleasure. She pushed it in.

"Lift the plate in front of you and guide the rear line into the back of the anal device." She followed the instructions and heard it click into place.

"Slightly withdraw vaginal device and make sure it seats into its holding receptacle in the front plate." Why the hell not at this point. She just wanted to get this part over with then she would try to figure out what to do about this situation. If she had to wear this for a day, she could do that. She managed to connect the two pieces together and pull the plate up into place. "Fasten the lines over the hooks." She was already doing that.

"Check alignment of all parts." She did not even know what it meant by that. Did it mean are they both in her. Yeh, they certainly were. But it did not ask her to confirm. It seemed to confirm on its own. She heard the front lines click into place. Then suddenly the waist belt tightened and the lines to the chastity plate pulled tighter. She could feel the anal plug pushed deeper into her. She really wanted that thing out. She reached down to inspect what had happened. The vagina covering was held perfectly in place, but now it was so tight she could not get her fingers under it. She was not going to be giving herself any pleasure. Maybe that answered that part of her earlier question about what was allowed.

She wasn't really thrilled about these last additions to her outfit, but she really did want to be a part of this program. And she had been feeling better about herself and her future just by knowing she was going to be a part of this. She remembered that she had selected large. Why didn't she say small. It seemed that she had made some bad choices when the program was setting conditions. Maybe she could fix that. Samantha went to the computer and began to inspect the interface. She pushed the ESC key to see if she could get out of the basic program. This only brought the response: "No user input called for."

Then she saw in the upper right hand corner a box marked help. Boy did she need help right now. She clicked on it. The screen said: "FAQs or Phrased Question". She picked the latter and typed in: "Removal of stimulators". The response was: "Stimulators are essential to understanding and reaching enlightenment." If that is the way this thing was going to respond it would be of little help. She rephrased the question: "When can stimulators be removed?" The response was: "Stimulators can be removed for repair, to accommodate incompatible equipment, or to be replaced with other devices. Otherwise stimulators will be present through all stages of training."

She had an answer. Wait a minute, the program had said she was to wear these for the travel to the resort. Not after she got there. Why had she selected large, maybe she could get them reduced in size. "How to change stimulator size." She asked. The response was: "Stimulators may only be increased in size. Subject has already requested largest size, which request has been graciously granted. No larger size is available. Request for size increase will be held for future action if larger stimulators become available." That frightened her a lot. She better be damn careful. The last thing she wanted was larger sized stimulators.

She wondered what else she may have screwed up. She had not liked the way the program had taken control and forced her to comply when she was hesitant about inserting the devices. She asked: "Review conditions." The screen she remembered seeing but not reading at the end of the selection listing each condition and her choice appeared. She realized that she had selected the highest setting for each of them. She remembered the program reciting Compliance and Correction standards before shocking her. "Modify conditions." She typed. Since she had selected the highest for everything she didn't think there was any risk here. "Subject has given up all control. Subject cannot modify condition." Was the response. Wait a minute, she had retained full control, and she could even see it on the screen. Control Full. "Define Control Full condition." The response was: "See definitions in rules and conditions approved by subject. 'Control – select the degree of control to be given to the program. None – subject retains full control, Some – Subject retains control over substantial matters, Full – Subject has given up ALL control. After confirmation the subject will have NO ability to direct or control any outcome by subject's choice.'" Great, all she had to have done is read the instructions. Now what was she going to do. She had really put her foot in it this time.

She figured she better take some time now and see just how much trouble she was in. The screen had returned to the outline of the conditions and she found if she clicked on one she could see the definition. That would have been nice to know earlier. She started to click.

"Commitment – select the subjects commitment to the program. Average – subject is not completely committed and may not be able to complete the program. Strong – subject does want to complete program but has severe doubts. Absolute – subject will put aside all doubts and fully devote self to successful completion of the program." That one seemed ok. She can see why the program questioned her when she gave a limited response to this question.

"Performance Objectives – Select the level of expectation that will be used to measure the performance of the subject. Average – a normal learning curve with mistakes is expected for this subject. High – This subject will make only limited errors during the course of learning. Exceptional – No allowance to be made for learning or natural errors, correction will be applied to all and every error." Great. She gave herself no room for error. She knew she made errors. How could she set an impossible standard for her to meet? She was screwed already.

"Compliance – Select the necessary compliance by the subject to tasks and commands. Significant – Subject will perform most, if not all task and commands quickly and correctly. Moderate – Subject will be allowed some time to determine necessary actions and perform. Limited reluctance is allowed. Complete – No hesitation or malingering of any kind in the performance of any task. Every hesitation and error shall be subject to correction." This did not sound good. She could see why her nipples got zapped when she did not put in the anal plug as first commanded. She thought about that pain. It had not been intense, but it has certainly gotten her attention. She wondered how sore her nipples were going to get over the next year and if they had anything else in store for her. But maybe she was getting to that now.

"Correction – Select the strictness of the application of compliance enforcement. Significant – Minor errors may be overlooked completely, Repetitive errors and attitude errors are to be corrected. Subject is expected to demonstrate improving compliance. Moderate – Increased requirement for performance to meet objectives with the understanding that skills may still have to be developed and honed. Complete – All compliance is measured against full expectation of performance." That one was really difficult. At least she had some training in yoga and would be able to do many of the positions pretty well, but she was really worried right now that for her pretty well was not going to be good enough. This one really needed to move down a notch.

"Level of Correction – Select the severity with which correction techniques and related punishment may be utilized with respect to the subject. PLEASE BE AWARE THERE IS NO SAFE WORD. CORRECTION TECHNIQUES MAY BE VERY DEMANDING AND PAINFUL AND WILL BE ADMINISTERED AT THE LEVEL SELECTED HERE WITH OUT REGARD TO THE DESIRE OF THE SUBJECT DURING TRAINING. CRYING, BEGGING OR OTHER ATTEMPTS TO AVOID CORRECTION WILL RESULT IN FURTHER AND MORE SEVERE CORRECTION.

Moderate – Correction methods will employ pain compliance and stress positions. No permanent scaring or marking of the body. Marks and bruising should be capable of healing within 10 days. Pain shall not be imposed beyond pain level 6. High – Any action allowed under moderate except that pain level may go to level 10. Scarring and permanent marking is available except on the face. No maiming, dismembering, breaking bones or dislocating joints. Psychological pain and humiliation are allowed. Unlimited – Any action allowed under High except that there is no limit on the pain level. No life threatening actions may be used as correction." She had selected Unlimited? They could do anything they wanted to her except kill her. This one more than anything else needed to be changes. She could live with moderate, but she didn't even want high let alone unlimited. She didn't want them able to put permanent marks and scars on her body. Level or no, she was not going to let anyone do that to her.

She may have signed a contract, but this was crazy. The law would not let them do this. Maybe if she just walked away now she could then get in touch with someone from the project and explain the mistakes she had made and that she wanted to correct them. If they fixed a couple of these, even a little, then she was ok to go forward. What would they do if she did? Would they impose corrections on her for trying? And if so, how would they do it? She knew they could shock her nipples. That hurt, but would it really be enough to keep her in line. How long could they keep that up anyway?

The computer screen lit up and the voice spoke again. "Today's lesson – we sometimes make mistakes. Many of these mistakes cannot be corrected. We must learn to live with our mistakes. We will grow from that process. Assume your favorite meditation position and meditate on that for the next hour starting in 60 seconds. Position is subject's choice. Movement during meditation will not be tolerated. Begin." An hour, no movement, what would happen if she moved? She thought about running for the door and then she quickly ran through possible meditation positions she knew and assumed one she thought would be the easiest. It was pretty clear from the subject of this lesson that she had to live with her mistakes. Had they tried to trick her into making bad choices on the conditions so they could scare her and then make her deal with her decisions. They were going to let her make decisions along the way, she may not even know the consequences of them, but whatever she decided she was going to have to live with. That was pretty clever. The lesson seemed to be right on point. It also was pretty easy to do. No movement for an hour, she had only had a mild, very mild shock to her nipples once when she squirmed a bit. It was enough to make her focus on what she was doing, but not enough to really hurt. Some of her fear disappeared and she felt a new commitment. After all, there could not be growth without sacrifice. She was going to sacrifice, she was going to grow and she was going to find herself.



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She had not gotten to check the definition for sacrifice. If she had she would have seen: Sacrifice – Set the level to which the subject will give of themselves to complete the objectives. Minimum – Subject will give up material things that can be acquired. Major – Subject will put their whole emotional being as well as all possession at the disposal of the project. Absolute – The subject assigns there body, soul, and being to the project. They and all that they possess are after selection to property of the project to be used as it sees fit. NOTE – THIS SELECTION IS VERY SIGNIFICANT AND ONCE MADE CANNOT BE REVOKED OR MODIFIED BY THE SUBJECT IN ANY RESPECT. ABSOLUTE SACRIFICE COMMITS THE SUBJECT TO THE OWNERSHIP OF THE PROJECT OR ITS ASSIGNS POTENTIALLY IN PERPETUITY. AFTER SELECTION AND APPROVAL THIS CANNOT BE UNDONE. UNTIL, AND UNLESS SUCESSFUL COMPLETION OF THE PROGRAM THROUGH TERM, INCLUDING ANY EXTENSIONS OF TERM, ALL ACTIONS TAKEN IN RESPECT TO THE SUBJECT ARE ACTIONS TAKEN WITH RESPECT TO PROPERTY OF THE PROJECT. ANY DESIRE OR WISH OF THE SUBJECT AFTER SELECTION OF THIS OPTION AND PRIOR TO SUCCESSFUL COMPLETION IS NO LONGER OF ANY RELEVENCE. ANY MEANTION OF DESIRE OR WISH BY THE SUBJECT MAY RESULT IN CORRECTION. SHOULD SUBJECT FAIL TO COMPLETE THE PROGRAM THROUGH TERM AND ALL EXTENSIONS THEREFO SUBJECCT WILL BE SOLD INTO INVOLUNTARY SERVITUDE. UPON SALE ALL RIGHT TITLE AND INTEREST TO SUBJECT WILL PASS TO NEW OWNER AND ALL RESPONSIBILITY OF THE PROJECT TO SUBJECT WILL BE TERMINATED. Maybe it is just as well she didn't see that one.

When she was finished she felt much better. It would be a great adventure. She completely forgot the devices that invaded her vagina and rectum. She completely forgot the discussion of correction techniques that she had selected for use on her. She would have to make some sacrifice. That is what this sort of thing is about. She remembered stories and movies about people who went to live on mountain tops for many years. She was going to what the computer called a resort for a year. And it was all being paid for. At the end of the year she would have her head in the right place to come back and get her life in control.

The program said: "We will start early, at dawn. You must sleep now." Samantha had kept out a sleeping bag for this evening and she crawled into it and was quickly asleep. She should have been going over all of the things she had read and the problems she had potentially created for herself, but somehow her sleep was untroubled.

There was a tingling in her loins. She awoke and her hands went right to her sex, but she could not reach it, it was covered by the metal plate. But something was going on down there. The dildo was vibrating. No, both the dildo and the butt plug were both vibrating. One of the rubber parts with the studs had pushed up against her clitoris so it was working on her in her most sensitive place. She started to moan. She had not had sex since she and Chris had broken up. She had only masturbated a couple of times after that and she had felt guilty about it. But this was not something she was controlling. It was being done to her and she wouldn't know how to stop it if she wanted to. She did not want to. Pretty soon she was moaning and groaning and rolling around in her sleeping bag. She tried hard to get her hands to be of some assistance, but they were not. She thought of stoking her breasts and trying to get to a nipple with her hands, but remembered the last time she had 'tampered' with the nipple covers. Now it was not just vibrating, but also pulsing and the anal plug had joined in for good measure. She thought she was coming out of her skin. She reached for her breasts in spite of her earlier concern, but just then her nipples began to be stimulated from the cones. She grabbed her large breast over the top of the vibrating cone, but did not try to interfere with its function. When she came it was full and heavy and noisy, very noisy. The neighbors would have something to talk about. But it sure felt good. She looked down and patted the chastity cover below her belt. "You fellows just go on living there and doing your thing." She said.


Chapter 2

[Travel to the Resort]

"Good Morning." Said the computer. "Are we ready to travel."

"Let me clean up and then we are good to go." She didn't know why she was talking back to this thing. She doubted it could really hear her. She took her toiletry kit to the bathroom and brushed her teeth, washed her face and upper body with a small towel she had left. She didn't dare get in the shower with all these electronics. First it might electrocute her and second she might ruin them. She was brushing her hair when she felt a tingling and then a burning in her vagina and rectal cavity. She dropped the brush and ran to where the computer was to see what it was saying.

"30 minutes for personal grooming. You have taken too long. It is time to go." It opened the compartment were her clothes had been placed, allowed her to put them on, but not to take the cell phone. She was then instructed to put the box in the trunk of her car, the computer on the passenger seat, and leave everything else behind. She complied and they were on the road in 15 minutes. She had not even thought about running away while she was doing this. She was too busy getting everything done. As they left her apartment she left the keys on the air conditioner. She did not mind getting out of this place, nothing but bad memories. She remembered being a little frightened last night, but then she had performed the lesson almost perfectly and been rewarded during the night. She was ready for this adventure. She ran down with the computer, jumped in her car and hooked it up to the lighter plug for electricity as instructed.

The computer had her remove an envelope, a scarf, a small black box and a small chain from the box when she put it in the trunk. When she sat down it instructed her to put the black box over the female part of the seat belt and then click the seat belt in place. After she did she heard a clicking sound as the black box locked around it. She would not be able to take the seat belt off without the programs approval. Then she was instructed to fasten the two ends of the small chain to the loop in the back of her collar after wrapping it around the head rest. She was locked into the driver's seat.

The computer started to act as a navigation system giving her driving instructions. It directed her toward I-15. After they had been driving for a while, but were not yet out of the city she remembered that a friend she had meant to talk to before she left lived just off the upcoming exit. It was quite early in the morning and traffic had been light. It was going to be a year and she wanted to tell someone about what she was off to do. She exited the freeway and began driving toward the house. She received a shock in her vagina and the car engine stopped. "Unauthorized detour from route. Restart vehicle and make U turn within 50 meters or more correction will be required." So much for that idea, she forgot she was in the control of another. Beside, as she thought about it she was locked in the seatbelt and her neck was fastened to the headrest. What would she have done if she got to her friend's house? She would not have been able to get out of the car to get her friend's attention and she did not have her cell phone. That really seemed strange. This was the longest she had gone without talking to anyone on her cell phone that she could remember.

She had also learned that shocks could be administered to other parts of her body than her nipples. In fact, that one hurt a lot more than the ones to her nipples. She guessed they had been saving that one. And what else had they been saving. She thought again about her selections. "Correction level – Unlimited." She was going to run away last night. Why didn't she do it? What could she do now? She was connected to her car, under the control of the computer next to here which was setting her route and demanding she stick to it. Suddenly she was sure this was a very bad idea. She tried to think of things to do to stop it. As they got up onto the interstate over the high desert she speed up so she was going about 20 mph more than the speed limit. If she got pulled over she could explain to the police what was happening and maybe they could help her disable the computer. This time the shock was in her rear and nipples at the same time.

"Maintain speed limit. Task is driving, complete compliance is required. Speeding is not complete compliance." Damn it, she slowed down to the speed limit. She stopped trying to attract attention. They would have to stop for gas and when she got out of the car to get fuel she was going to run. She wondered how far she had to get from the computer to get out of range of its Corrections.

As she got into Las Vegas the computer directed her to a gas station that had full service. That way she did not have to get out of the car. She was told to put a scarf around the headrest and her neck to cover the chain and the collar. She was told the exact words she should use with the attendant. The envelope she had gotten out earlier had money in it with which to pay for the fuelling. As she started to talk to the attendant she felt both the invading devices and her nipples starting to tingle. It was only waiting for her to make any mistake. She carefully followed the instructions and then the attendant was gone, the window was rolled up and the computer was directing her to resume her journey. She had failed to escape. She had not dared to even try.

As they left Las Vegas she was directed off of the Interstate and onto the old highway through mining country. She passed a few cars going in the other direction but saw little else. Then she was directed off the back highway to another paved road and then eventually onto a dirt road. She had no idea where she was except that it was the Nevada desert some place. But not smooth like she thought of most desert, very hilly and rocky. So much for her dream of a lush area with green lawns, beautiful flowers and running fountains. Nothing here was the least bit green. Everything seemed to be the same red dusty brown. Eventually she came to a type of intersection with 8 roads branching out, each with a sign with only a number. She was told to take road number 2. She did. The road went up hill for about half a mile and finally ended in front of a small adobe structure. Only after she had pulled up at the end of the road and turned off the engine was she released from the seat. Both the lock on the seatbelt and on the chain around her neck seemed to respond electronically and popped open. She took another look at the adobe structure. Some resort. It looked like it was only a single room, about 12' by 12', when she entered that was confirmed. There was a wooden table with a single chair against one wall, there was a box under the table. There was a mat, apparently for sleeping against the other. One wall had a counter with an old fashion type wash bowl and pitcher. She saw no toilet or any other signs of plumbing.

She was instructed to bring in the box from the car, to remove her clothing and put all of her clothing and anything else she had brought other than the box and the computer back in the trunk of her car. She complied. She was now wearing only the outfit she had been placed in the day before so she felt quite naked, even though she could not see another soul. Her outfit was augmented with a pair of very light sandals that had been sitting on the table, then she was instructed to take the car back to the intersection of the numbered roads. Place the keys on the driver's seat and walk back to her room. She worried the whole time down the hill about leaving everything down there, including her keys. Then she worried about walking up a half mile of road in the dessert dressed like some Arabian slave girl. What if she came onto some miners or hikers? How would the react to her? In the end it was not that great a thing and she made it back up the hill. Mostly she thought about whether she should just keep driving. She knew they could stop her car. Better to comply for now. She would try to sneak out later and get down to her car. If she could get a few miles under her belt and away from that computer then maybe she would be ok.

She parked her car and started to walk the half mile back to the room. There was no sign of life anywhere around her. As she walked back into her room and closed the door she wondered if her car was still there. How long would she have to try to get down to it before it was gone? She had looked around. Without the car it was going to be very difficult to get out of here. Now she really felt isolated.



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She was instructed to open the box under the table. Inside were six more metal restraints similar to her collar, she did not immediately recognize them as restraints, until she was told where to apply them. The two small ones clicked over her wrists. They were oval in shape so they did not turn. They had loops for attaching things on the sides and top. She was directed to do this first and she did, taking special note of how potentially helpless they made her look. But without anything fastened to them they were nothing more than bracelets.

The next size clicked over her ankles. These also had loops on the outside and rear, but in the center there was a short chain that joined them together. When she looked at those she had a lot of doubt. Now she was sure that this was a big mistake and she should try to get out of here while she could – if she could. She put them down on the table and walked out to the front door. She stepped outside and looked around. She could see two other structures like hers on adjacent hills. She could not see any sign of the occupants if there were any. She looked down the road to where she had left her car. She could not see the spot where she had left it. She wondered again if it were still there. For some reason she doubted that it was. She looked out over the horizon; nothing to be seen as far as she could look but rough scrub, rocks and desert. Dressed as she was she would have little chance out there, but she knew the minute she fastened on those ankle cuffs she would have no chance out there at all. She would be effectively confined to his hilltop. She was not even sure she could operate her car with those in place.

She had a very strong urge to run to where her car was and get the hell out of here. But before she could take a step she was doubled over in pain from both her plugs. "Return and close door. NOW!" The pain was intense. She could not stand. She crawled back across the threshold and swung the door shut. The shock stopped. "Apply the ankle cuffs. There will be no further delay." This time it was her nipples that erupted in pain. She didn't think, she just grabbed the damn cuffs and clicked them onto her ankles.

"There, god damn it, it's done. Are you happy?" The pain stopped. They, like every other belt when applied had locked together. She could not see a keyhole. She could not see how they held together, but she could tell they were sturdy. She examined the chain between her ankles. It was about 12 inches in length. It was made of the same type of material used for the bands on her body, but it was about twice the size. It looked a lot stronger than the other bands. She tried to pull her feet apart to test it. It held firmly.

"Apply the knee cuffs. You have 30 seconds." No reason to resist now. If she had had a chance it was before she put on the ankle cuffs. She did not expect the knees to add that much. They also had a chain in between them it was about four inches, but with only 12 inches between her feet it did not matter much except for the way it made her feel. She really felt controlled.

She felt frightened and alone. How was she going to put up with this for a year? How was this supposed to be a great experience that she would grow from? She had made a lot of mistakes in her time, but this one seemed to be the topper. There had to be some way to undo it.

But first she thought she better get an appraisal of her situation. She could tell that the sun was starting to get lower in the sky. She knew that there was electricity because she had plugged the damn computer into a socket next to the counter. Had to make sure the damn computer was taken care of after all. The floor was tile and somewhat dusty. It looked like no one had been in this room for several months. "I guess there is no maid service." She said to herself out loud. The ceiling had open beams from each wall that met in the middle. A single beam extended from there up to the point of the roof which sloped evenly on each of the four sides. There appeared to be lights set on the inside slope of each of the four parts of the ceiling, but she could see no switch in the room. Of the four walls one had a door. The two walls closest to the door had windows, not large maybe 2 ½ feet wide by 3 feet tall.

The last wall against which the mat was lying had no window or opening of any kind. The mat was not particularly soft. It was about 3 feet wide by 7 feet long. She was sure it was for sleeping. She saw nothing that resembled bedding. Even thought the day had been warm she was afraid the nights here might be pretty cold. She was not dressed for cold weather. She saw nothing that looked like a fire place or heating of any kind.

She went outside. She hoped the program would allow this. So far it did. The entire room was raised above the ground about two feet. A small stoop extended from the door about 3 feet and then with two steps descended to the ground. She could still see the tracks from her car when it has first driven up to the front of the room. She wondered if she could get down to it the way she was. For the moment she put the thought out of her mind. She walked around the structure. It sat on a flat section of ground that sloped off in all four directions.

On the rear side of the structure, where there was no window, there was a cement slab about three feet wide and the length of the structure. It held a metal tank fastened to the wall. It looked like it could hold about 50 gallons. It had a hinged top and a faucet at the bottom. She opened the top and looked inside. The bottom was moist, but empty. She saw that above the tank the roof on that side of the building had been equipped with a rain collection system. When it rained the water from that side of the roof would be channeled into the tank. At the top of the tank there was an overflow. Hanging on hooks to keep them off the ground were three metal buckets. They looked clean and new. On the wall itself two standard type brooms were held in clips. Next to them was a rake. There was a wooden tub several feet across and about 18 inches high and next to it a wooden bucket that had two scrub brushes inside. Further over another older metal bucket with a lid sat by itself. The inside was badly stained from whatever it had been used for. At one end of the cement deck there was a raised platform about 18" high and three feet to a side. She walked around it and saw what looked like the top of metal locks imbedded in the concrete. She examined everything to see if there was something she could use to aid her in her plight. She didn't see how they would help.

The other two sides of the building presented nothing but the outside of the window she had seen from inside. The terrain was mostly barren with only a few scrub type trees. Around the sides the vegetation became thicker as one moved down away from the hill top, although she did not do so. There was the road that she had driven first and later walked up. It ran for about 100 meters before it turned around a hill and disappeared. At the rear of the structure there was another path, this one only large enough for walking and it extended down the side of the hill. She could see that it descended to the right and then turned back and actually had some steps build into it. It crossed back over the hill descending from the back of the structure, but then kept going in that direction until it disappeared into the shrubbery and around the hill. She walked back around in that direction but she could not see where it went. It looked like the bottom of the draw in that direction might be quite a ways down.

She had not been shocked so she took that as a positive. But how was she going to live up here. She had been told everything she needed would be provided. Unless it rained she didn't even have water. And there were no wash or toilet provisions that she could see. Certainly there was nothing to eat. The thought of water made her realize she was thirsty. She had nothing to drink all day. She went back into the room to see if there was something there that she had missed.

"You will need water." The computer announced.

"Good guess." She thought in response.

"You will be required to keep the water tank filled to at least half full. You will now take the buckets and fill the tank. Follow the path in back to get to the fountain." Great, so she got to haul water. Well at least it would give her a chance to look around. She went around to the back and gathered up the three new buckets and started down the path. It was a challenge with her hands full and the hobble mincing her steps. She almost lost her balance on the steps, but finally managed to figure out how to step down a step at a time without exceeding the length of the chain. After she had passed the point where she had not been able to see the path continued on straight for about 300 meters. She could see a building ahead and in fact, a fountain, like the type one might see in a town square. The area around the fountain was tiled in very nice ceramics. The water gurgled and splashed and looked very refreshing.

She had not been told she could not drink so the first thing she did was quench her thirst. The water was cool and tasted better than water had ever tasted to here before. The building sat about 10 feet away at the edge of the tile. It was adobe brick and unlike her room was covered in fancy tile. This was a lot more what she had envisioned in her more utopian fantasy of this place. She pushed open the door and looked inside. It looked like a shower room of sorts.

Then she was doubled over in pain as her front plug exploded with electrical shock. A voice came from speakers mounted on the outside of the building. It was the same damn voice from the computer. "You were tasked with collecting water and filling the tank. This action does not fulfill or further that task." As soon as she could move she filled the three buckets. Then she tried to figure out how to carry three full buckets of water up the path. Finally she held one in one hand and two in the other, but the two were then pulled together which made them slosh a great deal of the water out. When she got to the tank and poured them in it barely showed. There was a burning bit to both her nipples. "Poor efficiency." The voice was coming from a speaker on the outside eve of her room. She remembered, she had set impossible standards for her to meet. She figured she had carried only about a galleon and a half. If she didn't spill water it was going to be about two galleons at a time. That means 25 to 35 trips up and down that path. And always carrying weight on the up side. She didn't dare think about it anymore. She knew if she was slow she would get a time limit to complete the task. It eventually came after about the 19th trip. She had filled about 2/3 of the tank by then. The shock was in her vagina. "Progress is not sufficient. You have 15 minutes to complete the task." It was taking her about three minutes per trip. That would only give her five more trips that would not be enough, and her arms and legs were aching from the exertion. That is not fair. She tried to hurry faster, but she tripped and spilled almost all of her water about half way up. She was rewarded with waves of electricity through all of her contact points for that. Hurriedly, but trying to be more careful with her hobbled feet she rushed back down and refilled her buckets. When she finally finished she was exhausted. She collapsed on the cement by the water tank. At least now she had water.

"Compliance insufficient." The voice said. "Twenty-Six minutes was required. Standard was exceeded by eleven minutes. Correction equivalency will be administered prior to sleep. Return to the life source and collect nourishment. Then return to your room for feeding."

She wasn't sure her legs would carry her one more time down and up that trail. She had not seen anything that looked like nourishment other than the water, but she descended anyway. At this point she dare not do otherwise. When she got to the fountain she saw three metal containers. They were marked with numbers. She saw 2, 4, and 5. "You are subject 2. You will always take the containers for subject 2. You will not touch any container but container 2." She wondered where 1 and 3 were. Had they already been picked up? At least this meant that there were at least three of them up here. Maybe she could make contact with someone else. Maybe they were leaving soon and could send her some help. Certainly they were under less restrictive conditions than she had chosen. They might be able to do something to help her. "No stopping. Complete task," It was the shock in her anal plug again. She thought maybe she hated that one the most. It hurt a lot, but not necessarily more than the vaginal plug. It just somehow seemed more embarrassing. She picked up her container and she hurried up the hill. She kept looking back over her shoulder to try to get a glimpse of 4 or 5, but she saw no one.



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She brought her tin canisters into her room. The ever familiar voice said: "The top canister is for your breakfast. Put it to one side until morning. The other two canisters are your dinner. You may sit at the table and eat. They were not large, maybe 6 inches in diameter and 2 inches high. She sat down and opened the containers. The first had a rice dish cooked soft with what looked like meat or vegetable pieces cooked in with it. The other contained a fresh plumb, three carrots, and some other greens. There was no dressing. There was no silverware either on the table or in the canisters. She carefully checked then started eating the salad with her fingers. She had just lifted a carrot with her left hand when her nipples were shocked. She was already identifying this as a lesser violation, but what? "Food is never to be touched with the left hand." How the hell was she supposed to know that? She remembered, she had selected the conditions that punished without warning. She would sure love to change that one. At least it hadn't been to bad a shock. "Place the left arm behind your back against the belt with the palm facing out." She complied wondering what was happening. "Move it to the right. Now up." As she did she felt and heard a click as the loop on the back of her left hand locked to her belt behind her. She gave it a tug and a pull up and down. It did not move. "Continue eating with right hand only. Left hand will be secured for six means." She wondered what that meant in time.

"That is pretty serious punishment for such a minor violation", she thought. But there was not much she could do about it. Especially now that her arm was already locked. She hoped it would be released after the meal. She still planned to try to sneak out after dark and try to get to her car. It would be a lot more difficult with only one hand. She finished her meal with her right hand. She figured how to scoop the rice with three fingers. She spilled very little and only had her nipples shocked twice for being sloppy.

"Meal is finished. Clean up. Any food remnants go in slop bucket." She assumed that was the bucket with the lid. She took the empty canisters back to the rear patio. The sun was now getting low in the sky and it was getting difficult to see. She put water in one of the wooden buckets, not a lot of water. She knew she was going to have to replace what she used tomorrow. Then using the large tub and a brush she scrubbed out the canisters. There was really no food remaining because she had been hungry. When she was done she took the large tub and emptied it out down the hill. All of this was hard to do with only her right arm and her legs and knees hobbled, but somehow she managed. Her left arm remained locked behind her back. Again she looked around to see if she could see anyone else. She did not.

"Assume a meditation position on the meditation platform." She looked at the 3 by 3 platform. That must be it. This was going to be tough. Her ankles could only separate by 12 inches, her knees by 4 inches and her left arm was locked behind her back. "Face away from building and hang leg chain over back of the platform." She saw that a hook at opened at the back of the platform. She dropped her leg chain over the hook and moved as far forward on the platform as she could. The hook closed. She was now chained to the platform by her ankles. All she could do is sit on her legs. She laid her right hand down across her right thigh. "Place right arm behind back." She didn't want to do that. If she did she was sure it would lock there and she would be stuck chained on this platform with her hands behind her back. Instead she used her right hand to grab at the chain that was secured from her feet to the platform. "Compliance failure. Correction." Her nipples started to burn. She tugged on the chain. Her anal cavity was electrified. The chain holding her to the platform did not move so she put her hand behind her back and the electrical shocks all stopped. As she moved her arm to the left it clicked into place. She was locked in.

Now she was really frightened. More so than she had been at any time so far. She was someplace in Nevada on a deserted hilltop, mostly naked, chained on a pedestal at the mercy of a computer that she herself had instructed, unknowingly, to punish her severely for any mistake or defiance. Her car was probably gone by now, but even if it wasn't she couldn't get to it if it was parked within arm's reach, of course, she had no arm's reach at the moment.

"Consider what you have learned today about your expectations, your fears, and your faith in others. Were you not delivered here as promised? Were you not watered and fed as promised? Were you not corrected in your performance in the manner in which you agreed? Have you not performed as promised? Have you had thoughts of quitting? Do you not require restraints in order to insure your compliance and proper participation?" She sat and looked out across the valley. The light was fading now. There was little ambient light around here. None of the lights in and around the structure had come on. This left her pretty much in the dark. She became aware that she was not alone in the dark. She shared it with insects. Most were of the flying variety. Some were of the crawling variety and she feared that many might be of the biting variety. She didn't like insects, she could feel them crawling on her, even if they were not crawling on her she could feel them. If only she had a free hand she would brush them away. She tried to figure out a way to do something similar without risking falling over. She could come up with nothing so she just stayed there. Her legs were beginning to ache.

After what seemed like a very long time, probably an hour the hook in the back of the platform released. Her arms did not. "You may come to the shelter for correction and sleep." She had forgotten that she had 11 somethings to endure. After she managed to unhook her feet she slid off the platform, walked around the room and entered. "Assume a lying position on the mat. Head toward the wall, face down." She did as commanded. "Place the belt against the chain across the middle of the sleeping mat." She had not seen chains on the mat before, now she could clearly see two of them, one at neck level and the other at waist level. They appeared to come out of the wall, cross the mat and then disappear into a small pipe sticking up a couple of inches from the floor a few inches past the mat; she did her best to maneuver her body into the requested position. She could feel the metal of the chain on her stomach as she shifted to line it up. Eventually she got it right because she heard it click and felt the tension. "Straighten your legs and separate them as much as possible." That wasn't very much, but she did. Something then hooked her hobble chain and pulled it toward the wall. That forced her feet to pull together. "Turn head to side and place collar on chain at neck." There really wasn't much else to do, it was right at the point where her head would lay down. She did as she was asked and heard and felt the collar click to the chain. If she thought she had been stuck on the meditation platform. Now she was really stuck. She was not sneaking off anywhere tonight.

"Commencing eleven correction cycles." Oh shit, she had forgotten about that. Her nipples were tingling, but not in a painful way. They were being stimulated. So too did the dildo jump to life and start to vibrate. It was soon joined by the anal invader. This was her idea of correction. Correct away boys she said to herself. One would buzz, and then another, and then they would work in tandem. She kept trying to reach down and help before realizing that she had no hands. She was getting close, very close then everything went Tabasco. When the pain was gone she tried to settle down and catch her breath, but the frustration was high. Unlike the morning pleasure this had been torture. For about ten minutes she squirmed in her bonds trying to find some way to relieve herself when it started all over again. Oh god, that had been a correction cycle. Number two was starting. There were going to be eleven! She would chew her arm off to get free by then. Of course she didn't. Either chew her arm off or get free for that matter. She lay there on the mat and endured eleven cycles of being brought to within inches of spectacular climax and then having it denied her.

When it finally was over she was so tired that it made no difference that she was lying chained on a small mat on the floor. She fell asleep.


Chapter 3

[And then there was Morning]

There was that tingling. It was the same tingling as the morning before. The same tingling that had turned into pleasure beyond her wildest dream. If this was the way every morning started it would make up for a lot of the other bullshit. But she had already decided that she needed to get out of here. This had been a big mistake. She didn't think of herself as a quitter, alright, she did have a lot of trouble finishing what she started, but she had made it through school hadn't she? That task was too much for a lot of people, and she had made it. No, it was not her fault, this program had been misrepresented. She expected it to be hard, but she did not sign up for the sexual slave torture tour. The only problem was how to get out of here. She had given over all control of her and boy had they grabbed it. She was sure that was not legal, but she couldn't exactly call a lawyer. Her best bet was still her car, hopefully parked at the bottom of the road. She was not sure it would be there, but she had to try to get to it. The next time she had her hands and wasn't chained to something she would make a run for it. She figured she was not going to be able to sneak away so running was the only choice.

The tingling and buzzing was continuing and getting more intense. For now she would just lay back and enjoy the moment. Besides, she really had no choice at the moment, did she? Then that damn voice: "Only eight cycles were completed last night. Balance were suspended to allow subject to sleep. Cycles will re-commence now."

"What?" She shouted. "No." She jerked and pulled and twisted, but she knew from the night before that there was no way for her to escape, there was no way for her to impact in any way what was happening to her body, and most importantly there was nothing she could do to stop the frustration of being brought to near orgasm and then being denied only to have the entire thing start all over again a few minutes later. And, most importantly she had been cheated of the promise of morning pleasure. If they didn't even give her that, then what did she get? This really sucked. How could she have been so stupid to have signed up for this in the first place? How could she think they would select her and give her a scholarship for some wonderful fulfilling program? And how could she have been so stupid to click through choices she didn't understand or bother to check? This contract was just not enforceable. It couldn't be, except by the force that they were using against her. As long as she was in their grasp she could expect every condition of this absurd agreement to be enforced with no mercy. She remembered the correction level settings. Under those settings she could be subjected to very severe even crippling pain. Her only hope was to get away, and it was becoming obvious the longer she waited the harder that was going to be.

She should have never done this. She should have quit when they gave her the choice before accepting the terms and conditions. Even then, if she ran before they had the inserts inside her they would have had only the nipple shocks to control her. She was sure now she could have overcome that. Even if she had run before they left her apartment. There were people around, she could have gone for help. Even when she first got here, she should have never put on the ankle cuffs with the hobble chain. She had tried to resist, but she could have put more into it and run for her car then. She knew she should have, but she had given in. Piece by piece her freedom was being taken away. Right now she had none. And right now she was in a state of intense frustration and anxiety from the corrections.



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The correction cycles finally came to an end. The link holding her hobble chain was released and she also felt her belt and collar come free. She was able to sit up although her arms were still locked behind her. She debated running like she was, but realized that without her hands she could not even operate her car. It was an automatic, but she needed to steer.

"Consume breakfast." Was the command, and with that her right arm was released. She took the remaining container from the evening before and opened it. It contained an apple, something that looked like a granola bar, and a hard cooked egg. She would need nourishment in any event so she sat down and ate, using only her right arm. Do you know how hard it is to peel a hard cooked egg with only one hand? She managed. She hoped that as soon as she was done there would be a task that would call for releasing her left arm. But as the night before, cleaning the canister did not call for this.

"This facility is not clean. You will scrub the floor. Tiles are to be clean and not streaked." She understood that command. She agreed that the floor was dirty and dusty. There was no telling when it had last been cleaned. Her left arm was released. She walked out the door and started to go back to the rear patio where the wooden bucket and scrub brushes as well as the water were located. Then she decided this might be her last chance. She turned and started to run as best she could toward where she had left her car. It was very hard to run in the hobble and she fell several times. She kept waiting for the electrics to come on but nothing happened. She could not believe her good luck. She was afraid that it was all a tease to let her get to the bottom of the hill and see only a dirt road stretching away. What would she do? Would she start up the road? It had been at least 10 miles of dirt road from a highway on which she had not seen a soul as they approached. She could be 50 miles from anyone. But she knew she needed to try. She would have to stay on the road, so they could easily come and collect her before she could get far, but that would mean contact with live human beings. That might allow her to plead her case. She was going to try.

But as she came within about 100 meters of the bottom of the hill she saw it. Her car was just in the spot she had left it, and still no shock. She was going to make it. Even if they shocked her now she was not going to stop she was going to drive through. She was moving in a type of jog keeping her feet as close together as possible. She covered another 15 or 20 meters, and then she fell. She had thought she had her running motion pretty well worked out. She had not fallen since near the top of the hill. She started to scramble up to her feet, but something was wrong. She had not tripped because she had gotten out of stride. Something had ensnared her ankle hobble. She could see a small chain now linked over the hobble and extending down into a plate in the ground.

A trap. She had fallen into a trap. She grabbed the new chain and tried to pull on it. It did not move. It provided about 10" of line from her hobble to the ground plate. She inspected the plate. It seemed to be set in a concrete block. The chain fed into a hole in the top that was beveled on all sides to allow for the chain to move 360 degrees without putting stress on either the chain of the plate. She inspected the link that had caught over the hobble chain. It looked like a climbers snap link, but the gate was closed tight and would not open. Something had locked it. She tried holding it on its side on the concrete and hitting it with a wrist cuff. To begin with her hobbled knees made getting access to it hard enough. She could get no sufficient leverage to put any strength behind the blow. The link was shaped like a tear drop with the small end attached to the chain from the ground and the large end fastened over her chain. The gate was in one of the sides between the small and large end so she could not really even hit it. She knew the hobble chain was not coming off, she had checked that before, but she did again now. She even looked again for a locking mechanism in the ankle cuffs. It was useless. Why had she put these damn things on?

She sat there in the dust and look at her car. She could only see the right side of it from where she sat, but it looked to be in exactly the position she had left it. Only about 60 meters away was her clothing and her escape. But she could not get there. She cried in frustration and pounded her fist against the dusty ground. Then it got worse. She heard the engine on her car start and saw it start to drive away. She could only see the form of a person behind the wheel. She called out for help. She called out for them to please come back. She called out for anyone to come to her rescue. No one did. She watched, unable to turn her eyes away, as her car drove up the dusty road that she had entered – only yesterday? – until it was a small red speck, then a small dust plumb, then nothing.

The voice came from the bushes nearby. "Lie on your stomach." She was not going to lie on her stomach in this dust. Then came the correction she had been waiting for. Pain, a great deal of pain. She had determined that she would resist it and continue her escape, but that was before she found herself anchored to the ground. She could go nowhere, she could do nothing, she had no way of escaping or stopping the pain other than compliance.

"Ok!" She shouted in frustration and turned onto her stomach and lay on the ground.

"Bend your legs back and grasp the hobble chain with your right hand." She didn't like the command, but didn't know what else to do. "Place it over the hook at the back of the belt." She found the hook but didn't see how she could pull her feet that far. She had decided to comply, the shocking had stopped and she knew she was going to have to look for an escape opportunity another time. She had to arch her back and pull hard, but she managed to get the line over the hook. The hook locked the line in place. Her legs were now pulled up very tightly behind her. There was only 6 inches of line from each ankle to the belt that was well above her buttocks at the small part of her waist. She wondered why they had done that. She would be unable to walk back to the structure. She would be unable to walk anywhere. Was someone coming to get her? She would love to have contact with another human being right now. Anything but that damn computer.

"Put your hands behind your back." She had seen that one coming. She knew approximately where the retaining hooks for her wrist cuffs were and she found them with no difficulty. They locked into place. She was curious as to what was holding her wrists. She had inspected the belt before she had put it on and did not remember anything protruding in the back. Like so much of this gear it must only pop out when they needed it.

"Well, ok, she said, you caught me. I guess I am not going anywhere. What now?" She had been awakened at dawn. In fact, just pre-dawn. She had spent maybe an hour being tormented by the correction cycles. The activities of the morning after that taken only about an hour. It was early, still very early. She tried to move around. It was almost impossible. Her arms were held behind her. Her legs were pulled up tightly behind her. He knees had only the four inches of slack that they had been allowed. And a chain still extended to the ground anchoring her on the spot. Strangely it had lengthened to allow her to pull her legs up behind her, but it was still attached. If it were tightened right now it would pull her over onto her side. How long would they leave her here like this?

The sun continued its path toward the middle of the sky. It was still before noon and she was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. It was hot, very hot. She could feel her skin starting to burn. She tried to move positions; she could lie on her left side, her right side, or her stomach. That was it. She was cooking and there was no one to baste her. The only protection she was getting from the merciless sun was coming from the fact that she was perspiring and as she rolled in the dust it stuck to the moister and provided some protective coating to her body. When she moved it stirred up dust which then made it hard to breath.

Only after the sun had passed over the highest point, after noon she decided, did she start to worry about what else might be out here. She was helpless against any wild animals that might decide she was a suitable meal. She looked into the sky expecting buzzards to be circling. She saw a hawk making smooth wide circles, looking for prey, but it was not interested in her, and no buzzards. She listened for any movement in the brush. She could hear things, but none sounded very large. At one point a rodent of some sort actually approached her face. Stood off about a foot or so and inspected her twitching its whiskers and moving its head from side to side. "Yeah, I'd be pretty surprised to find this package on my normal terrain." She said. This was the first kinship she had felt to another creature since she had started this trek. And for some reason this small animal recognized that she was no threat to it. But finally it turned and disappeared into the brush. "Come back." She pleaded after it, but she knew it neither understood her nor was likely to comply with her desire.

The sun was now sinking in the sky. She did not know how long she had been lying in the dust. She was now afraid that she would be left through the night. She was sure that the scary creatures would emerge after dark and her fear of being something's meal might have more meaning then.

"Would you like to return to your room?" It was the first thing from the voice since her escape had been interrupted.

"Yes. I promise to behave." She was not so sure about the promise, but she needed to get out of the fix she was in.

"Anchor has been released. You may crawl up the hill." Come on, were they kidding? "You will have two hours to return to your room. Additional time will result in necessary correction."

How was she going to do this? She was near the bottom of the hill. She knew it was about a 1000 meters to the top. She could walk it in about 10 minutes. But that was if she could walk. How was she supposed to do it this way? She knew she better try. She started rolling and twisting and squirming her body up the trail. She was sure it looked very degrading, but there was no one to watch. She was actually making progress, although rocks kept poking into her, and at one steep point she actually lost balance and rolled back down about five or six meters. She was going to be bruised. She was going to be sore, but she was going to make it. She didn't' know why it was so important for her to complete this task, but she knew that it was.

Eventually she reached the front area of her structure. What a mistake this had been. She had tried to escape and had been caught. She was very sure there would be punishment for that. But what else could they do to her? She figured she was already being subjected to maximum restraint and punishment.

Only when she finally reached the stoop of the structure were her ankles released from the belt. The sun was very low in the sky. She did not know how long it had taken her to roll and twist her way up the trail. All she knew was that everything hurt. She entered her structure. She was not sure what to expect. "Escape attempt noted. Does subject want to terminate project?" She certainly did, but her prior experiences had made her somewhat weary.

"I don't know, what are my options?" Was her response. The computer screen showed the following: "Quit and terminate participation in program. Subject to program conditions. Continue program and accept necessary correction. Compliance will improve. And finally, Request Advocate."

She had not seen anything like the last choice. She was doing very poorly on her own. She clicked "Request Advocate." The screen went blank and then it returned with a young woman, not much older than her and adorned in the same accoutrements as her.

"That was very smart of you to obtain an advocate. Most individuals do not and find themselves in great trouble. You must first understand that they are very strict to their rules. If you violate the rules you are in big trouble. But if you follow the rules you can do well."



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"It looks from your outfit like you are just another subject in this program like me." She replied. How could someone in the same position she was help her?

"That is true and not true. I have made it to level three in the program. It has only taken 17 months. I have a very good chance of completing and thus avoiding the conditions of failure."

"I don't 'understand. I thought the program was 12 months?"

"Not necessarily so. There are many provisions in the agreement to extend the time for the program. The program is actually governed by completion or failure. You do not want failure."

"Why not?"

"Didn't you read your contract? Of course you didn't. Let's see, ok, you accepted absolute sacrifice. If you leave the program for any reason other than completion you will be sold to pay for the costs of your participation."

"What? I will pay them back. If they just let me go I will reimburse any costs or expenses."

"That is not what they want. They make a profit from the girls who do not complete the program and then can be sold as slaves."

"I don't want to be a slave. I hate this already, but I don't want to be a slave."

"They are very strict to their rules. The ONLY what you can avoid being sold as a slave is to complete the program. Very few do. I am near the end, but still at risk. It is very challenging."

"This cannot be right. There has to be another way out. What if I just quit? They offered me that option."

"Watch." Said the advocate. The screen showed a youngish brunette laying on a mat similar to if not the mat from Samantha's room. She was held in the sleeping configuration with her ankles pulled to the wall and her neck restrained to the top of the mat. Two individuals dressed in black entered the room.

"You have determined to quit the program." One of them said.

"I am sorry, I can't take it anymore, it is just too hard. I hope you understand."

The computer voice then piped in: "Termination from the program has been confirmed. She is yours."

The two individuals walked over to where she lay. "When do I get released?" She asked.

"Not in this lifetime." Said one of the two. "You are aware of your contract. You have failed to complete your program, therefore you are to be sold as a slave."

"No, that is not the deal. I wanted out of the program. I didn't agree to be a slave."

"Actually you did, it is provided in the agreement. You will be sold to the highest bidder." She was struggling and twisting against the chains that held her to the mat. The two of them easily flipped her over onto her stomach. Then one of them using a small device that Samantha took notice of removed the knee cuffs. As soon as they were removed they wrapped rope around her legs just below the knee. Then they moved down the legs.

They removed the ankle cuffs but then quickly tied the girl's ankles. Samantha watched in horror as they repeated the action, releasing her wrists, but while one of them held her arms the other tied the elbows until they almost met. Next they tied off her wrists. She was fully secured.

She was begging and pleading: "Please, no, I will do better. I really didn't want to quit." Then she was just calling. "Help. Please someone help me. Don't' let them take me. Please." No one came She didn't know it yet, but the only other person in earshot was in no position to help her. And she was not strong enough to overcome their actions. She was bound in nylon rope at the elbows, wrists, knees and ankles. Her wrist, knee and ankle cuffs were gone, and then they removed her belt, chastity plates, collar and breast device. In place of the breast device Samantha watched as they wrapped lines around each of her breasts, much tighter than the rings on the device had been. Her breasts were darkening from the blood engorging them and seemed to swell up in size. They wrapped a rope around her waist. It followed the marks left from the belt that had just been removed. After it was cinched off in front they pulled it between her legs, wrapped in once around her wrist cinch and then brought it back to the front and tied it off. This action held her wrists tightly to her buttocks.

One of the individuals held up a hood for the newly bound victim to admire. "Isn't this a thing of beauty?" She said. She did not respond. She pulled it over her head as she cried, screamed, and protested. It had no eye holes so she could no longer see. The mouth was open and set in a ring which one of them rocked into her mouth making sure that her teeth were behind the upper and lower parts of the ring holding her mouth open. She had tried to resist, but the woman was an expert at what she was doing and it took little effort to insure that her mouth was placed over the ring gag portion of the hood as she buckled and laced the remainder of the hood molding it to her head. This impeded her speech, but did not stop it. Then she stuffed something into her mouth through the hole in the ring gag. When she started to inflate it Samantha realized that an inflatable gag was being used in connection with this horror. Samantha felt terrible for this girl.

The girl was trying to talk. She was trying to say things like "Please, and I will do better." None of it made any difference. The two women then ran a rope from her newly tied ankles up to her elbows and pulled her into a very tight hogtie. "She is ready for shipment." Said one of the individuals.

Samantha watched as the girl was picked up by the two individuals and walked down the path to a waiting van. It looked very much like the path from her room. They opened the van. Inside she saw there was another similarly tied girl. She was also moaning and squirming without noticeable effect. The door to the van closed and it drove away. Neither girl was going anywhere until they were released.

Samantha was in shock, but she managed to say: "I don't understand. If I quit the program it should be over." The advocate showed Samantha the provision of the agreement she had click signed. She showed her the results of her selections with regards to sacrifice. She showed her the language that allowed for her to be sold as a slave if she did not complete the program.

"Ok, she said my job is to inform you. Now you have the information you need. The choices are not great. If you quit they will sell you. I have no idea where you will end up, or who will own you. The operative part is own you. If you decide to fight back you will be punished. They call it correction, but it is punishment and it can be very painful. You have only seen the beginning. But if you decide to continue you will have to convince them that you will be a good subject in the future and not engage in such meaningless actions. Do you think you can do that?"

"I came really wanting to do the program. Is there a program to do?"

"Yes, there is. It is very hard and they seem to want to wash most subjects out. I think they pay for the program with the income from the slaves that they sell, but a few make it. I might be one, although I am not there yet. It will be very hard on you and you will have to give up all thoughts of the outside world."

"I don't want to be a slave. I am not going to quit if that is where it leads. Thank you for helping me."

"You can thank me if we both make it through this. If you fail and become a slave, even if I see you in the future, you will just be a slave. If I fail and you make it and see me, then I will expect the same."

"I understand." She said. She returned to the program and clicked continue program.

The screen responded with another screen. "If you continue you will be given a further chance to fulfill the program. Subject understands and accepts all a conditions including the irrevocable loss of freedom if subject fails to complete program." Choices are Yes, No, or I want to Quit. She selected Yes.

"Accepted." said the program. The voice returned: "The floor has not been cleaned. It still needs cleaning." She hurriedly went outside. She returned with a bucket full of water and a scrub brush. She scrubbed every inch of the floor tiles until they gleamed. She had used a lot of buckets of water, but the floor looked great.

"Water needs replenishing." She set off with buckets for the base of the hill. She only used two buckets at a time now and completed restoration of the tank in less than ten trips. The thoughts of the other girl tied and drug away for a life of slavery kept imprinting on her mind. She did not want to be that girl. She wondered when that had happened and where that girl was now. She could not imagine herself as a slave serving at someone's command somewhere in the world. The image of the advocate, on the other hand, was someone who had survived the program and seemed to be doing well. That was her example.

Again, after the water had been replenished she was allowed to obtain the canisters for nourishment and bring them back to her room. The food selection was almost identical to the night before. It was not a lot of food so it was easy to eat almost all of it. She had been required to lock her left arm behind her before she could eat. She understood and accepted this condition. She did not know what punishment or correction would be imposed on her for her attempted escape but she was pretty sure it was going to be unpleasant.

Even though it was late she was sent to meditate on the platform at the back of her building. It was very peaceful. She didn't worry about punishment, she knew that was coming and that she could do nothing about it, instead she tried to focus on herself and her life. How had her life become so terrible that she was willing to put herself here? As she started to examine some of the considered disasters in her life they were not seeming quite so terrible and dramatic. She was now in a position where if she quit or did not perform to standard she could be sold as a slave and be held in bondage for the rest of her life. Compared to that most of what she had perceived as disasters paled. She was not sure what being a slave would mean. She knew it would mean being totally subservient to the control of another. She was not very good at that. Just ask Chris. She fought with him over virtually everything. Slaves could not fight. Slaves would just take direction. No, she was absolutely not slave material.

She sensed it was late when she was told to resume her position on the sleeping mat. She did not resist in any way even though she knew she would d be connected so as to lose almost all movement. For some reason no correction was imposed and she was allowed to sleep. Her body hurt a great deal from her earlier ordeal. Laying helpless in the sun on the trail had been very humiliating and painful. She could feel her skin burning from the sun. She wasn't going to try that again. She determined that they had traps like the one that ensnared her set at many places around the property. She had no desire to spend another day, or for that matter, a night, hogtied on a trail someplace. She had also seen her car leave. She knew it was gone now. She was here. There was no way she was leaving. There was no help for her. Her only chance was to prevail at the program and that is what she was going to do.


Chapter 4

[Working to restore Grace]

Morning was signaled by the tingling in her breasts and lower body. But this time she was not deprived. This time she was taken to the heights that she had only experienced through the mastery of the programs devices. She fell into it allowing it to take full and complete command of every aspect of her body. She moaned and rolled and squirmed. Again she hated not having the availability of her hands, but she loved how this made her feel. And in the end she was not denied. She received full and complete satisfaction, again on a level she was unfamiliar with.

"You must arise." The voice said. "There is much to do today to make up for and provide correction for yesterday." Oh shit. She thought there was going to be punishment. Wasn't being left tied on the trial in the dust to be burned by the sun enough? There were very tender patches of skin all over her body where she had been burned. The most noticeable were in areas of her body that normally did not get much sun such as her buttocks and her breasts. Her breasts had spent most of their time under her, but were exposed when she lay on her side to try to cool off her back, shoulders, and buttocks. The soles of her feet were also burned. The way they were pulled up behind her they were exposed to the sun in a way that was very unusual for them. It was going to be painful to move around for the next few days.



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Her bed chains clicked loose and she was allowed 15 minutes for breakfast and to clean her canisters. Then she was directed to return them to the life center and to subject herself to cleaning. She was filthy from her day lying in the dust. Any portion of her body that was not sunburned had only been saved by being completely coated in sweat and dirt. She sensed that she smelled very bad. It would actually feel very good to be clean.

She gathered up the canisters and headed down the trail to the life center. Her empty canisters were left where the full ones had been picked up the day before. She didn't know who brought them, but she knew by the end of the day there would be new fresh canisters for her. Now she assumed that the wash room would be where she was going. She was very surprised to see a female dressed the same as her inside the room when she entered. She was just a bit shorter, had blonde hair cut very short, and in contrast to the fiery red skin of Samantha looked to have a very good tan. "I have been assigned washing and cleaning detail today. Please step forward." Samantha walked forward. She was very surprised when the girl snapped a leash line to her collar and turned and led her down a short corridor. There were rooms on both sides and she could hear some sounds coming from some of them. Samantha was led into the third door on the left. It looked a lot like a shower stall, only a bit larger. "Arms out to the side." Demanded the girl. Samantha complied without thinking about it. Then she snapped a line into the cuff on each wrist. She walked around and looked at Samantha. "How on earth did you get so filthy?" Samantha started to respond, but the girl stopped her. "That was rhetorical. I am not your girlfriend. I am here to do my job and the less I hear from you the better." To accentuate the point she pushed a gag into Samantha's mouth. Samantha did not like the feeling of it, but with her arms held out to her side there was not much she could do about it.

Next the girl fastened chains to each side of her belt and then to the outside of each ankle cuff. She then adjusted the lines so that Samantha was held tightly in position. "First, internal." Said the girl as she attached a small tube to the back plate of Samantha's covering plate. She manipulated something and Samantha felt something expand in her anal cavity. It was uncomfortable, but not too painful. "Let's see, 130 lbs. You should be able to accept almost two galleons." She turned a handle and Samantha felt water rushing in through the tube. She was getting an enema. She had this a couple of times and on those occasions she had administered it to herself. She tried to remember how much she had used. A quart? Maybe two? Two galleons was way too much. That would certainly kill her. It didn't, but it felt like she was going to explode. "The softening agents have to work on the material inside you for at least 30 minutes. I will be back sometime after that. Enjoy." She turned and walked out of the room. 30 minutes? The pressure was beyond belief. She needed that liquid out now, not in 30 minutes. She pulled on her wrists. Nothing. She twisted her body from side to side. Nothing. She tried to pull up or out with her feet. Nothing. She was cramping, but she could not even bend over. Finally she just gave in to the pain and tried to let her body go with it. It helped a little, but only a little.

The girl was back. Had it been 30 minutes? It seemed more like an hour. She put her hand on Samantha's extended abdomen and patted a couple of times. It looked and thumped like a ripe watermelon. "Almost ready. Let's give you just a little bit longer. We don't want to have to do this a second time do we?" She certainly did not want to have to do it a second time. But right now she didn't want to do it the first time and she wanted it done. She tried to scream no as the girl walked out and closed the door. Once again she was alone with her pain. She recognized that there was nothing she could do but wait for the return of her tormentor.

Why, she wondered was this girl so lacking in compassion. She could tell from the outfit that she was a subject just like her. She must have been here for some time. Wouldn't she understand and appreciate the pain of this situation and the fear and need for some sense of support from other subjects. Whatever it was this one seemed to actually enjoy imposing the humiliation and pain.

When the girl finally returned again she decided that the time was right and finally let the water out. Nothing that Samantha could remember felt as good as that. It made a terrible mess on the floor and down the inside of her legs, but she was just glad to be rid of it. The shower chamber did not smell all that good at that point. Then the girl took what looked, and felt like, a fire hose and sprayed Samantha down. She washed all the dust and other material down the drain. The spray of the water on her burnt skin hurt a great deal, but it felt good to have all of the grim washed off. When she was done the room even smelled better. "I will let you dry for a bit and then be back for you. Don't run away." She quipped as she walked out. Ok, so now a comedian. Whatever passed the time. Samantha stood drying in the warm dry air with her arms extended and her legs spread as far as the hobble would allow. She wondered what would be next.

Before she was released she was dusted with some powder. She did not know the purpose but thought it might have something to do with sleeping on the ground surrounded by all the bugs. She had felt bugs crawling on her on a number of occasions and had to use a great deal of will power to ignore them since with her hands locked she could not do anything else about it.

After her cleaning was finished her arms were released from the lines, but as each was released it was pulled behind her and fastened into its place in the back of the belt. Then her belt and legs were released and the leash attached again. She was taken back into the hallway and led to another room at the end. This was clearly not a wash room. Samantha could not immediately discern its purpose. She was pulled forward and pushed up to a strange looking device that was shaped like a very small picnic table and benches. The top was padded in black leather. It was about 6 inches wide. To each side of it about 2 feet below were the benches. They were also padded. The girl used some device to release the chain connecting Samantha's knees and then the one at her ankles. Then she pulled Samantha forward onto the bench so that her head was at one end and she had to climb on with her knees and legs down on the lower benches. With her hands behind her it was difficult to maneuver into place, but with the help of the girl it was accomplished. The leash line was then run forward over the edge of the top bench and connected to something. A thick leather strap was pulled around her waist and then tightened at least a notch further than necessary. Her lower legs were on each of the lower benches and they were attached by belts just below the knee and at the ankle.

Her head lay on the padded upper bench. She could turn it to one side or the other, but could not pull away. Her breasts were pushed out on either side of the bench. It appeared that the wooden support under the padding was cut to allow for the breasts to push down and out. The upper bench ended at her waist were she was strapped to it causing her buttocks to extend beyond. The lower benches aligned further back so that her lower legs could sit and be secured flush to them. Her feet hung over the end. She felt the girl doing something and was very surprised when she felt the plates of her chastity belt come off. Strangely neither dildo was removed with the plates.

"We can't have these getting in the way of correction now can we?" She heard the girl say. She was still gagged so she did not respond. This was not going to be shocks. This was going to be something else. She remembered the terms of her contract. Correction level – Unlimited. But before anything happened the girl was gone and she was left alone strapped to this bench to think about what was coming.

She was pretty sure in this position she was going to get a whipping. Her ass had been exposed and was a perfect target. She had not been beaten since she was a child and her father took a belt to her once. That had hurt for three days and made her commit to run away if he ever did it again. She was 8 and he never did. That was her only frame of reference and she tried hard to think about what it felt like. She could dig deeply enough into her past feelings to get at it. This was going to be something new and unique to her. But she would get through it. She had to make it through the program; the alternative was just too horrific to think about.

The girl was back. Samantha tried to look at her with pleading eyes. She was not more than a year or two older than her. They could have been friends. They could have hung out together, gone shopping, talked about boys and laughed together. Instead this girl was about to give her a beating and from the look on her face she was not going to be easy with it. The girl walked around in front of her and said: "Anticipation is half the fun." And she pulled a leather sack over Samantha's head. Now she could not see what was going on in the room and even sound was muffled. She shrieked and shook her head from side to side. She heard a giggle in response. She felt the hood tighten at the neck. It was not coming off until she either had hands or the girl took it off. She expected that to be followed by a painful blow, but there was nothing. She tensed when she heard a sound waiting for the strike, but then nothing came so finally she would relax. Then it hit, right across the lower part of her buttocks just above her legs. She gasped for air and tried to move forward to get away from it. It felt more like she had been burned than hit with something. And it didn't stop after the blow. It burned and it throbbed and she could feel the pain all the way down her legs.

She had not been told how many. Wasn't she supposed to be told how many strokes she would receive? She was pretty sure it was not just one, but how many? She tensed for the next blow. She tried to twist in her position to provide some protection for her bottom. She pulled on her hands to see if they would by some miracle come free. There were no miracles, there was no movement, she was held fast. She could only wait for the next blow. It had been a long time. Was the girl still here? Had she hit her and then just left. NO. Another strike, this one across her thighs just below her buttocks. Ok, this hurt even more than on the fleshy part of her buttocks. This hurt a lot more. She pulled on her legs to try to get free. Then she felt the vibrator in her vagina come on and start to stimulator her. "Really?" "Now?" She started to squirm involuntarily against its feel. The chastity plates had been removed and her vagina was pushed against the edge of the upper bench. She started to work her hips against it. She felt embarrassed, no, humiliated. But she could not stop herself. Then the third strike. This was across the sole of her left foot. The strike to her thighs had been a whole new level of pain but this moved it up another notch. She could feel the tears in her eyes. But before she could even finish her evaluation there was a matching stoke to her right foot. All she could do is squeal and wiggle her feet and toes.

"Let's let you think about that for a bit before we continue." Samantha thought she heard her leaving the room, but over the buss of the vibrator it was hard to hear. Slowly the vibration was taking her from her pain to a whole new place. She was rotating and moving with its action. She was so close now. And then it stopped. Just stopped. It took a few seconds to comprehend that it had done that to her. She bucked up and down. She tried to work her hips and push herself against the end of the bench. She tried to will it to turn back on. It did not. She shook her entire body and pulled again on her hands. If only she had her hands. Only one hand would do. She tried to move forward and back on the bench, but the thick belt at her waist held her fast. Finally she just lay there shaking in frustration. She had completely forgotten the pain of the beating. A reminder came from nowhere. It was a stroke across her thighs, it was completely unexpected and she coughed on the breath she was taking as it hit. She had not even heard the girl re-enter the room. The frustration from earlier was completely replaced with the pain. Even though she knew it would do no good she wiggled her bottom and legs. This evoked a giggle.



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"I'm glad someone is enjoying this." She thought.

She did not have to wait as long this time for the next blow. It was on the thighs again near the point of the first blow to that part of her body. This was definitely a tender part. She wished she would go back to her buttocks. She did, and Samantha was not exactly happy about that. It still hurt. She could now feel the pain from each of the stripes, including one across the sole of each foot. Her hope that that is all they would get was destroyed when her right foot received another blow. She waited in anticipation of a blow to the left foot, but instead the vibrator started again. It did not take long before she found herself giving in to it again. Maybe she could get ahead of it. Maybe she could get off before it stopped. It stopped. She cursed and twisted on the bench. The girl was still in the room because this time there was a laugh not a giggle. Then there was the stroke to the left foot. How could the bottom of the foot deliver so much pain? She was crying under the hood and sobbing into the gag, but if the girl noticed she did not seem to care. She did rub her hand over Samantha's buttocks and thighs. Then she ran a fingernail down each of her feet. It was clearly not over.

There were four more strokes, two to the buttocks, one to the thighs and again a lone stroke to a foot, followed again by the vibrator. Samantha was going to go crazy if this continued. It did, and she didn't. There were at least five more cycles before it finally ended. Her legs were released and the chains between her knees and ankles reconnected. Her plates were re connected and then her leash was released and she was allowed to stand. Her hands were not released. Finally the hood was released so she could see, but the gag was left in place. She motioned with her head to the girl, but she just giggled again. "It's too becoming to remove right now. You have nothing to say do you?" Samantha looked at her and nodded no. "Good. My arm is tired and I have things to do I wouldn't want to have to put you back on the bench right now."

The girl held the door to the correction room open for her. She was told to report back to her chambers. As she went down the hallway to leave she could hear sounds coming from at least two of the rooms. That confirmed that there were at least four of them counting this girl. Maybe if she could find some allies they could make a plan. She did not consider her recent tormentor to be a likely ally.

As she climbed the hill back to her room her body hurt. She had sunburned patches all over her. She had bright stripes across her buttocks and thighs. The part below the metal rear cover chaffed as she walked and hurt, and the soles of her feet, each had ended up receiving four strokes hurt each time she stepped down on them. This had not been correction, this has been punishment. No, this had been torture.

By the time she got up the hill she could feel pain in most parts of her body. She wanted to go lie on her mat. But the program had other ideas. "You will now meditate for one hour. Think about choices. Even when we have no choices we make choices. Even when we know what we are supposed to do we sometimes do something else. Think about the effect that has on the flow of our lives."

"Bulllshit." She thought, but she was not about to say anything. Actually she could not have said anything she was still gagged. She wondered if the program even knew she was gagged. When would she be allowed to remove it? The girl had pulled it very tight. It didn't need to be this tight. If she had a hand she would at least loosen it a notch or two. It would still look ok. It would still impede speech. It didn't have to be so tight. But it was and she could do nothing about it. She walked around her cell to the meditation platform and assumed the only position that was possible with her knees and feet hobbled and her hands locked. She had gotten good at moving on so that the chain from her legs drooped off the back of the platform where it was clicked into place. It would be held there until the program decided it was time. She had no idea if the times she was given were the times then used. She had no watch or access to any time piece. Her only gage of time was the sun in the sky and she noticed now that she could not see it. Heavy clouds had rolled in and obscured it. It was going to rain.

At first the thought of rain worried her. She was nearly naked kneeling on a cement platform fully exposed to the elements. She had a lot of metal on her person. What if she was hit by lightening? At least that would bring this farce to an end. She started hoping for lightening. The rain started as little drops she could feel on various parts of her body, then it increased to steady pelts and then increased to a heavy flow. It was cold and the wind made her fear she would be pushed off the platform. She did not know how she would be able to get back up if she were knocked all the way to the ground. Her feet would be held up against the back of the platform and she would have no use of her hands. Gagged as she was she would not even be able to call for help, although she did not know who could ever help. She would have to lie there until something was released.

She leaned into the rain and wind to insure that that did not happen. She attempted to focus her mind away from the rain, away from the pain in her legs, thighs, buttocks and even her feet. It was still raining very hard, but she wasn't feeling it anymore. She wasn't cold anymore. The pain seemed a long way off. She could still feel it, but it wasn't sharp, it wasn't the focus of her attention any more it was just there. She also didn't feel the fear and desperation that had enveloped her earlier. She remembered back a couple of days. Was it only a couple of days? Her life had been a disaster. That is what she had called it. She had not wanted to live it anymore. She wasn't really suicidal, but she wasn't sure that was that far away. She was desperate for anything.

She took stock.

Material possessions – she had sold almost everything she owned. What she had not sold she had put in storage. What if she never returned to reclaim it? What if in a year's time it was sold off and there was nothing there? There were a few mementos, a few things that she used to evoke happy thoughts, but did she need them. No. Her only possessions now were not even hers. They were the adornments she wore on her body that controlled her, caused her pain, and rewarded her with pleasure. Instead of having possessions she was a possession.

Relationships – she had friends that she talked to. Friends that she would make plans with, but that was always an effort and her friends all seemed to demand a lot more of her than she seemed to get in return. When Chris had left her, when he had moved on she felt deserted, alone, frightened. She obviously didn't value her friendships because she had been ready to break all contact for a year. Did she still feel that way? Yes, she really did. Before she could go looking for new friends, or even reach out to old friends she needed to make contact with herself.

Future – That was a little scary right now. If she screwed up her future was to be a slave girl to some unknown owner. She didn't even know how to make a picture of that in her mind. She didn't even have a movie reference to use. She had thought she had a future when she was in school, living with Chris and thought she was going to get married, entertain their friends, join the country club and be taken care of. Then she realized that the dream future was no more of her making than the slave future if that came to pass. At least with the possibility of a future as a slave SHE was the one that would either prevent it or be the instrument of its occurrence. That would be a future of her making. And if she made it through the program, what was her future then? She realized that faced with such an incredible risk she would have to be very strong. If she could muster that strength, if she could get herself to the other side of this year and through the program she suddenly knew that she would find all that she needed for a future. In fact, as she thought about it she realized that her destroyed plan had been one where she would have given herself over as a type of slave anyway. Now, she would either be her own person, she would be strong, or she would be slave and would deserve it.

Then the image of two naked and helpless girls in the back of the van flashed into her mind. She had no intention of going out that way. She was not going to be hogtied and carried off to some new life as a slave. If she had learned anything so far it was that these people, whoever they were were deceptive. They intended to trick her. She may have been naοve so far, but that Samantha was gone. She was going to be very careful. No more stupid steps. But she could not count on staying on track for a full year. She also could not count on their honoring the deal. What had been said about extensions of the term? How did she know that if she made it a year they would respect her success and let her go? She knew what their plan for her was and she did not like the way it ended. Her plan looked quite a bit different. There would be an opportunity at some time and she would be ready to grab it.

The girl in the cleaning room had had some type of key. She was able to release some of the chains. Did the key work on everything? Even if it only worked on some, like the leg chains it was important. She needed to get her hands on that key. Maybe the wash room or correction room would provide her chance. In her mind she pictured the snooty girl strapped over the bench in the correction room. It would certainly serve her right. She needed more information. For that she was going to have to play along. She needed to figure out how she could obtain more freedom and then use that knowledge.

When meditation ended and she was released she returned to her rooms. She was wet and cold and shivering. She wanted a towel to dry off and a blanket to get warm. She had not been sent to collect her meal and it was quite dark now. She stood in the middle of the room waiting for a command. She would have typed something into the computer if she had her hands. She would have said something if she wasn't gagged. Instead she just stood there. The voice said: "Lay on your sleeping mat. You know the position." She did, but she didn't want to do that. She had not been fed and she still had the damn gag in her mouth. Petulantly she stomped her foot. It felt silly to her and it only got her a shock to her nipples.

"Ok, I get it. Bed without dinner for being a bad girl." She lay down and rolled her body so that the belt lined up with the chain. As before it clicked together on contact as did her neck and the line that grabbed the ankle chain. It made no difference now if she was hungry. It made no difference now if she was cold. It made no difference now that she did not want to be lying on this thin mat on the floor of some adobe building lost in the mountains of Nevada. That is where she was and she knew she was not going anywhere. She was still cold. She wanted a blanket, but then she laughed to herself. If she had one how would she cover herself? She had no hands. All she could do was to try to sleep. She hoped that the gag was not going to be a normal addition to her condition. It was not that she wanted to talk to anyone. It was uncomfortable and the concept of it was humiliating. She really wanted it out of her mouth, but she had no way to make that happen and she knew it was staying at least until morning. She tried her best to sleep.


Chapter 5

[Another Morning]

There it was her wake up call. This should be patented, what a great way to wake up. She only prayed it was the real thing. But it wasn't. Somehow it knew just when she was almost there. Somehow they knew just when she was most vulnerable. That is when it stopped. She twisted and pulled and shook her body. She tried to rub her loins against the mat. She already knew it would not work, but she could not help trying. She needed to get there. She needed to get there too much not to try. But it was just out of reach. Always just out of reach.

She gave in to the frustration and slowly stopped struggling. Now she could feel the pain from her correction yesterday. It hurt worse today than it had the day it was administered. She really needed to have a hand free to massage her injured flesh. She reached with her fingers but could not get to any of the parts that needed southing. She rolled onto her stomach. That at last took the direct pressure off and made it feel a bit better. She was waiting for the clicks that would mean she was free of the bed and that it was time for her to start her day.



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Instead of the click there was the very subtle beginning of the vibration again. She knew instantly that it was another cycle. She would ignore it. She would not give in to it. That worked for about a minute. It grew and expanded. It was not just in her loins but in her breasts. She couldn't ignore it. Maybe this time it was real, maybe this time she would be taken through to the end. She started to move with the pulse. Her mind and all of her being were headed in one direction like a vehicle on a steep slope with no brakes. Then it stopped again. She screamed, but no sound came out. She pounded her gagged mouth against the ground. She flopped around like a fish just pulled out of the water, but it took her no closer to completion than her last attempts. It hurt. It actually hurt she needed it so bad. It took quite some time to begin to calm down. More time than the first cycle. She wondered if there was a cumulative effect. How many cycles would there be? She had not been told there would be correction cycles she was not told how many there would be. She only knew that she could not endure any more of these. Hopefully this would be the last. But it was not.

It started again. She swore to herself. She tried to twist herself free, even though she knew that was not possible. Not again. Not another one. But it was, and then another after that and even another after that. Then it seemed to stop. Her stomach was knotted. Her breasts were swollen and her nipples were hard and tender. Every nerve ending seemed electrified. If someone touched her right now she would jump like a surprised cat. But there was no one to touch her. She kept waiting for it to start again, but this time it didn't. She could not sleep, but she could not move so she just laid there and tried to remember how good it felt when she was taken to climax. This was how bad it felt when she was deprived.

Only after what seemed like a very long time did she finally hear the clicks. At least there had not been another cycle. She quickly rolled away from the mat before it changed its mind and recaptured her.


Chapter 6

[Adjusting]

Schedules. Existing under daily hardship can depend on developing and maintaining daily routine schedules. Samantha began to fall into the schedule of her new life. She would be awakened by the action of her belt. Sometimes it would be pleasure, the only real highlight to her existence. Often it would not, not knowing which as it started was in itself a torture. Awakening was always very early just before dawn. That was good because if she awakened first there was nothing for her to do by lie and wait for it to start or try to get back to sleep. She would only be released from her sleeping mat after the belt had finished its morning routine. She was always fully restrained, including having her hands locked behind her back. She was provided no blanket or other cover. A few nights she had felt cold, but never so much she could not eventually get to sleep. What she missed most was a pillow. She had none and with her arms behind her she could not even use her arms. At first she thought it would be impossible for her to sleep that way. It wasn't. It is surprising how we adjust.

Provided she had obtained her food the evening before she ate her breakfast then cleaned the breakfast canisters. If it had not rained, and it rarely did here in the desert, she collected water until the tank was near full. She had learned that she could most easily manage two full buckets and that she could move up and down the path quickly without spilling. The water was used for drinking, about a gallon a day and scrubbing and cleaning her surroundings, another 4-5 gallons, more if she scrubbed the tiles. Things got dirty very quickly up here. It was very dusty and the floor to her room could be dirty within days. She would at least sweep it every morning and every evening to get rid of the dust that would blow in every time she opened the door and that seemed to find its way in even with the door closed. The two windows allowed in light, but did not open. She had to scrub the tile at least twice a week. That always took a lot of water. She had learned the hard way not to leave any streaks and that every tile needed to shine. She had started taking pride in her work.

After she was released from her mat, and so long as she was not in meditation, or restrained for a correction of some sort she could use the slop bucket for urination. It also accepted any leftover food (not really a concern – she did not get enough food to waste anything) or any other similar material that needed disposal. She would empty it daily at a designated spot. She was never without her anal plug so her bowels could only be relieved by regular enema. This was performed every other day. This was one time when she would have some contact with another person in that a subject was not allowed to conduct their own cleaning. She was not sure why that was the case because the experience was the most humiliating part of her confinement. She could not think it was pleasant for those conducting it. She had been at the hands of only two such individuals. Neither treated her like anything more than some dirty animal passed through their care for this specific task. There was not even a shred of compassion or caring or even understanding in either of them. Certainly they too had to go through this experience. They wore belts with covering plates. You would think they of all people would be understanding.

Unless precluded by another task meditation took place three times a day. After breakfast, afternoon (this was the most frequently skipped session if she was assigned tasks) and in the evening at dusk and before sleep. Meditation primarily took place on the platform behind her quarters. Weather was not relevant. It could also be imposed at some other location if she were away from her quarters. She had always thought of meditation being to clear her mind, but here, she was always instructed to meditate on some topic. After the first week she was expected to discuss her thoughts after many sessions. She would be asked questions and she would respond. There was never a face or a person to respond to, just the empty voice that also commanded her. And there was never feedback. There was not even an acknowledgement of having heard her. She began to wonder if there was anyone listening or if the questions and responses were meant only for her and if they were just a part of her own self searching. Finally she decided that it did not matter, but that did not stop her from being guarded with her responses. Never did she disclose that although she did find some profound moments of peace; and that although she was feeling more able to understand herself, she had no intention of staying here for an entire year if she could figure a way out. She also never revealed that she did not and would not accept the concept of her being owned and commanded as a slave for the rest of her life. The thought was monstrous. She would remember the image of the van door closing on the two tightly tied girls and driving them away to some horrid fate. She would resist that fate by every means she had at her disposal.

During the day she was given tasks. This was usually cleaning. She would clean the floor of her room. She would sweep the patio and the porch. She would rake the top of her hill surrounding the building. She would inspect her path to the life center and repair any spot where the stones that lined the path or created steps had come loose. Occasionally she would scrub rooms in the cleaning or correction center. This was an unpleasant task. The cleaning rooms often smelled. She was allowed to wear gloves for this task. She would scrub the tiles with disinfectant. It was the same in the correction center. On occasion she had to clean up stains from the floor of the correction center. Once she was sure it was blood, but didn't want to think about it. Again, she would scrub the area and then cleanse it with disinfectant. There were bottles of disinfectant in a cupboard in the hallway. This same cupboard also had bottles of the liquid soap that was used in cleaning subjects. It was always full. She did not know who stocked it and when. She kept her eyes open for anything she could use as a tool to help her escape. There was nothing out and obvious. There were a number of cabinets in the correction center but they were always locked. She had checked. In fact she checked every time she was in that room alone. They were never unlocked. She knew from her visit to this room at least some of what was in these cabinets.

In the afternoon she would bring her clean canisters back to the life center and obtain her number two marked canisters. She was only fed twice a day, breakfast upon rising and a late afternoon meal. She ate only with her hands, no, not her hands, her right hand. Her left hand was never allowed to touch food. She did not know why, but after her first mistake she had had to eat her meals with her left hand locked behind her back for two weeks. When she got it back she was very careful to keep it away from the food. Both meals always had a fruit item of some sort. The breakfast usually included some type of granola bar, a biscuit or bread and cheese. The afternoon meal was usually a rice or barley that had been cooked to being soft with the inclusion of pieces of some meat or vegetable items. It was not hot and not particularly appetizing, but she was pretty sure it had been designed for necessary caloric intake based upon what they had her doing.

Dusk meant meditation and bed. There were lights in the room, she could see them in the ceiling, but they had never been turned on. Everything was done to natural light. She got use to working in the twilight of early dawn and post sunset twilight. Once secured to her sleeping mat there was nothing for her to do until she was awakened for dawn and the beginning of a new day.

The life Center had the patio with the fountain and the building that held the cleaning rooms and the correction center. There were paths leading away from it in a number of directions. Hers of course and she assumed other paths went to the rooms of other subjects. She kept her path well groomed and repaired and all of the other paths appeared to be so as well.


Chapter 7

[Reaching Out]

Very occasionally Samantha would see another subject near the Life Center. She never seemed to have an opportunity to talk to any of them. She had always thought she was pretty good at keeping her own counsel and not needing other people, but she was increasingly finding herself wanting to make contact with another human being. She found herself looking up the other paths every time she was at the Life Center. One afternoon she found herself starting up a path that was not hers. She had no real plan, in fact she had not even thought about why she was doing it. She had no idea in mind as to what she would do if and when she actually came across someone.

She could see the structure just up ahead. Just like her room the path came up to the rear where there was no window. She found herself standing on the patio of the room she had approached. There was no one in sight. But, she could hear sound from inside the building. She moved around and looked in through the window. She expected she might see another subject inside cleaning. She first saw the table. Surprisingly she saw laid out on the table all of the metal accoutrements of the project including cuffs, collar, belt, and chastity plates. That was strange; she was never out of hers. She could still hear something from inside. She shifted around to look into another part of the room. Then she saw the occupant. She was lying on the mat, but she was not in a sleep position. Samantha gasped. The girl was tied in a hogtie position. She could not see her face. Not because it was hidden, but because she was wearing what looked like a black leather hood. She looked to be in the same position she had seen in the video of the girl who had been removed from the program and sold into slavery. She should have turned and run, but somehow she could not. Instead she came around to the doorway. There was no one else around that she could see.



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She wasn't sure what she was going to do but she entered the room. The girl heard her enter and started to squirm and moan. Samantha could see that the mouth part of the hood had a ring gag through which an inflatable gag had been inserted. Samantha deflated the gag and removed it from her mouth. "Please don't take me." She started to say. Without the gag she could speak although she was still hampered by the fact that the ring in the mouth of the hood held behind her teeth keeping her mouth open.

"I am not with them," Samantha said. "I am here to help." She hadn't been, but now she guessed she was. "I will untie you and we can get out of here." She wasn't exactly sure where to start with that project. There were ropes wrapping her elbows and pulling them together almost until they touched. Her ankles and knees were also wrapped in ropes that were then cinched tightly so that the rope appeared to be wrapped around each limb, clearly pulling both together. Her wrists were also tightly tied and her feet were pulled up behind her so tightly that they actually touched her hands. The ropes at her elbows were further attached to some rope that seemed to be wrapped around her shoulders and across the back of her neck. It all looked really tight. The girl could hardly move. A smaller cord had been wrapped around both of her breasts at the base. It was very tight and her breasts looked like two balloons. They had darkened to almost a purple color.

"I am Samantha what is your name."

"Sarah she said. Thank you, thank you so much. It is so tight; I can't do a thing to help myself."

Samantha thought hands first and looked for a knot but could not find one there. The only knot that she could easily see was at the elbows. It seemed to be related to the ropes holding her feet to her hands. That one was important. Samantha went to work. That knot gave up pretty easily. She was then able to unwind the rope until her feet were finally able to move away from her hands. Samantha was sure that had to feel good. She remembered having her feet pulled up behind her when she had fallen into the trap on the trail near her car. She remembered how nice it felt when she was able to let them down. Suddenly she was very afraid. What was she doing? She should turn and get out of her right now. But how could she leave this poor girl like this? She knew she couldn't, but she knew they needed to get out of there before someone came back.

"Please take the hood off so I can see." It was hard to understand, but she figured it out.

"Ok." She looked at the hood. It was form fitting. It had straps from near the eyes to the back. She unbuckled those straps. There was another strap that came around the chin and up over the crown. She unbuckled that strap as well. It loosened the hood a little, but very little. The hood had a zipper down the back that disappeared under a wide belt at the neck. Before the hood could be released she would have to remove the belt. She reached to the buckle on the strap but found it secured by a padlock. "I can't help you with the hood, it is locked on."

"No, please, oh god." Came from inside the hood.

"Don't worry we will get you untied, get out of here and find something to break the lock."

"Hurry, please before they come back." Samantha's thoughts exactly. But other than letting her legs go straight she was still completely tied. Samantha looked at the elbows and wrists. It looked very tight and complicated. She decided to go to work on the ankles and knees first. Those ropes actually untied very quickly. She had the girl's legs free, but she was hooded and her arms were still tied behind her.

"Let's get out of here and then I will untie the rest." Samantha helped her get to her feet.

"I can't see anything."

"I know, but we need to get out of sight." Samantha led her out the door and around to the path. The Life Center seemed the best place to hide and to find something to break off this lock. It wasn't much of a plan; she was making it up as she went along. The going was tough. Samantha had to keep from tripping over her hobble. The girl could not see and had no use of her hands.

Samantha could see the Life Center just ahead. She thought if they went behind they would be masked from view and she could get the rest of these ropes off Sarah and then figure out what to do about the hood.

"Going somewhere?" It was an unfamiliar voice.

Sarah screamed. Samantha turned toward the voice and saw a rope flying toward her. A lasso? They were trying to lasso her like a rodeo calf. It was too late to bat it away from her but she still had time to pull her arms up so that it only dropped around her waist. But that was enough to pull her away from Sarah. Sarah screamed again. No one had touched Sarah, but she was helpless to go anywhere. She couldn't see anything and she couldn't even use her hands to reach out and feel. She just stayed were she was turned slowly in place. "No, no, no." Seemed to be issuing from the hood.

The woman holding the rope that now encircled Samantha's waist was not large, less than five and a half feet tall. She appeared to be mid 30's and well built. She pulled away and then she reversed and leaped toward her intending to knee her between her legs. Without the knee hobble it might have worked, but as she brought up her knee to make contact the chain caught and stopped her short. Instead she lost her balance and fell forward into her waiting arms. It was only as she grabbed her that she realized there was a second woman who had just emerged from behind the building. As the first woman put Samantha down onto the trail the second grabbed her legs. The first woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a snap link. She used it to fasten her wrist cuffs together behind her back.

Then she moved forward and sat on her pinning her to the ground.

She could feel the second woman doing something at her knees. She was removing the knee cuffs. They were quickly replaced with multiple loops of rope that were then cinched tight. "Sarah, help me." She shouted, she didn't really know why or what she expected the hooded tied girl to do, but she was the only person nearby that she knew.

"I can't, oh god, I can't help." Sarah was crying.

Next the ankle cuffs were removed and replaced by rope. When she had finished tying and cinching her ankles she brought the ends up to her knees and knotted them off there. Samantha remembered that she had had to untie knots at Sarah's knees before she could bring the rope ends down to her feet and untie her ankles.

They removed Samantha's neck collar. One of them held her elbows together while the other wrapped a doubled line of rope around them. Her elbows were pulled to within about three inches of each other. Then they wrapped the rope around the elbow lines and tightened them down until the entire distance was cinched. After the cinch was tied off the rope was taken under her arm, up over her shoulder, around the back of her neck and across the other shoulder before being brought under her arm back to the elbow cinch. From the cinch the rope passed over the rope at the back of her neck and back down to the elbow tie. Only when the elbow rope was fully secured did they remove the wrist cuffs and tie and cinch her wrists. As with the ankles the end lines from her wrists were taken up to the elbows before being tied. This put the knot well away from Samantha's reach.

Samantha was rolled over onto her back and they removed her breast device. It felt good to get that off but she felt more vulnerable with it gone. They even removed her belt and chastity plates and removed the dildos. It was the first time she had been relieved of their pressure since she left her home almost a month prior. Using a smaller cord that looked like rawhide one of the women found the middle of the line and maneuvered it so that it was located in the middle of her back. She brought the ends around her sides and tied a knot just below and between her now naked breasts. She then separated the two lines and began wrapping her breasts, first one and then the other. She would wrap a tight line around the base and then a second line wrapped on the body side of the last line. Continuing to wrap in this way caused each new line to further tighten around her breasts. It hurt and she could feel her breasts beginning to gorge with blood. When she had wrapped each breast about six times she took the line under the line between the breasts and tied each. The circumference of the cords around her breasts was several inches shorter than the rings had been at their smallest setting. When they pushed her back on her stomach the pressure hurt her breasts. She could see why Sarah had wanted out of these ropes so badly. They hurt. She kept careful track of where they put every line and where they tied every knot. They may be out of her reach, but with Sarah there were still two of them. If they were left alone she would try to get to Sarah's knots. If she could loosen her then Sarah could help her.

Just as she had seen in the video they held up the hood for her to admire before they placed it over her head. She could feel it being laced up tight; then she could hear it being zipped closed and the buckles on the outside fastened. Finally she pulled the leather collar around her neck, buckled it and she heard the click as it was locked with a padlock. Only then did they attach a loop through the cinch on her ankles and pull her feet up behind her. The line was tied off at her elbows. She was hogtied.

They left her then. She could hear Sarah crying and screaming again. They were retying her feet and knees and putting her back in hogtie. They were back to Samantha. She felt herself being pushed over onto her side. Then she felt Sarah pushed against her. One of the women, she could no longer see so she was not sure who brought a rope under the line between her breasts. She apparently did the same thing to Sarah then he started cinching it closed. They were pulled together. As she continued to pull on the cord it forced their breasts together. They were tender and the pressure was painful.

Then she felt a loop placed over the cinch of her wrists. She pushed it forward between her legs, then between Sarah's legs and over the cinch on Sarah's wrists. She then brought it back to Samantha' wrists wrapped it again and pulled it tight. It was, like everything else tied off at the elbows. Their wrists were each pulled tightly against their buttocks. Samantha tried to move her hands and realized that they were held firmly. She could not move them to either side. They were held tight.

"Have fun girls." One of the women said as they both got up and left. Samantha heard them collect her cuffs and belts. At least they had not taken them to the van. Instead they had left them lying in the dust only a short distance from the fountain in the Life Center. Samantha tried to pull on her hands.

"Hey, be careful." Sarah said. Not only were their hands tied together the line between them ran through both of their crotches. Any movement pulled the hands of the other and put pressure on their now naked crotches.

"See if you can find a knot." Said Samantha even though she knew all the knots were a long way from their hands. Maybe they had made a mistake with Sarah. Samantha still felt around with her fingers. Her fingers could actually touch the ropes on her wrists but touching and untying were quite different. She felt for her ankles. She could feel the ropes and could actually touch what felt like a knot, but there were no ends. She knew that the rope ends traveled from her ankles to her knees and that the real knot was there.

"I can't touch anything. It is too tight."

Maybe she could twist around and reach some of Sarah's knots. Samantha started to turn her body. The purpose of the rope linking their breasts was clear. It hurt to move. Anchored together at the breasts and through their crotch they were pulled tightly together. Samantha's hands could not even touch any part of Sarah's body let alone find a knot. They would both have no choice but to lie on the ground and wait.

Samantha knew she was going nowhere, but that didn't stop her from trying. Her accoutrements had been removed. It clearly meant she had been terminated even though nothing had been said to her about that. She was packaged for shipment, and "oh god, sale." She thought. Instead of working for enlightenment and freedom her freedom was now gone. She had thought her situation was bad before, now it was even worse. Why had she decided to go up that path? Why had she helped Sarah when she saw her tied and ready for delivery? She pulled and twisted her wrists. Sarah howled in response. Samantha didn't care if it hurt her. She hoped it hurt her. It was her fault she was here tied and helpless. She was sure Sarah would not have tried to help her if it had been the other way around. With that thought she gave her hands another tug evoking a new squeal from Sarah.



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How long would they leave them laying there? Samantha heard a sound. She could hear the tinkle of ankle chains so it was another subject who was walking past them. "Hello!" Samantha tried to get someone's attention. Couldn't they see her lying here? Of course they could. "Please. Help me." She begged. No response. No acknowledgment. No communication of any kind. I am just property. She thought. Why would they talk to me? Why would they try to help? She had tried to help Sarah and look at her now. Samantha remembered what the Advocate had said. She was now a slave and those still in the program would recognized and treat them as such. She had even sensed someone walk within inches of them, having to circle around them on the path. The sense of someone who could help so close prompted her to struggle in her ropes. She felt Sarah do the same. Sarah's sobs and crying was very loud now. Then Sarah was begging this new person to please, please do something for her. But there was no help, there was no sympathy, there were no words of encouragement. There was nothing and the person was gone, gone to carry on with their life. They still had a life, of sorts, and whoever it was was not going to put their freedom at risk. She remembered the terror she had felt as she had watched the images of the girl tied and carried away presented to her by the Advocate. She almost laughed. Here she was, she was now the example presented for the terror of the other participants. How uncomfortable must they feel seeing Sarah and her lying there tied so uncomfortable? They must have been sufficiently conditioned by the program to not see them as people. But she knew inside each of these individuals must have been almost overcome with terror at the site of Sarah and her. They all knew just how close to being in this position they always were.

It dawned on Samantha that fear held them captive as much as the ropes. There did not appear to be that many captors. If the occupants of the place teamed up, even in their chains, they would be able to easily take control. They did not have to live in terror they could work together and be free. Why could they not see that? "Help me, and we can work together. There are enough of us to be free." Maybe if she explained the logic of her thoughts they would help her. No one did.

Samantha lay in pain, in the dirt, but also dreading the return of her captors. Now she knew she could do nothing but wait. Her breasts were throbbing and every time either she or Sarah tried to adjust their position to take the pressure off any part of their body the cinch between their breasts pulled putting even more pressure on their tortured breasts. As much as her arms and shoulders hurt, as much as she wanted to have her hands back, as much as she wanted her legs free so she could get up and run, as much as she wanted to see, she wanted the lines wrapped so tightly around her breasts removed. They hurt too much. They were both hurting too much. She needed to get those lines off, but she could not. She could not loosen anything. All she could do is lie there and feel the pain.

Minutes became hours, it seemed like many hours. She had no sense of time. She didn't think it was possible to be so helpless. She could turn her head from side to side, but she could not see anything and no movement of her head brought any relief. She could wiggle her fingers, but not move her hands even an inch and held tightly pulled into the cheeks of her buttocks her fingers could not even touch anything. She could move her feet up and down at her ankle joints, but her legs were held tightly together and pulled tightly to her rear.

It was getting cooler. Samantha could tell that the sun had set. It was now unlikely that anyone else would be coming to the Life Center. Samantha was pretty sure they would come to collect them at any time. Sarah's sobbing had abated. "I am sorry. You shouldn't have tried to help me." Sarah said.

"It is not your fault." Samantha said. "They have no right to do this. They can't just sell people as slaves. This is the twenty-first century. Slavery is not legal. They can't just sell us as slaves."

"These ropes seem to say that they can." Sarah answered sullenly. "There is nothing we can do. What do you think being a slave will be like? Where are they going to take us?"

Samantha had been thinking almost exactly the same thing. What did it mean to be a slave in the current age? "Maybe we can escape when they sell us. They can't just keep us tied forever." Samantha tried to give some encouragement to Sarah. But she did not feel very encouraged. It certainly seemed that they could and would do with her just exactly what they wanted. This was certainly a lot more than she had bargained for when she signed up for this "adventure".


The End
The author has indicated there will be no future updates


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While we try our best to only post stories that meet our guidelines, occasionally one will slip through. These include stories that feature (but not limited to) murder, violent snuff, and under-age characters. If you feel this story needs to be re-evaluated you can report it here.

Sunday, August 09, 2015  

This was my first published story. I have spent the last six months editing and polishing and finishing some books for Kindle. Summer Job was released last month and Change of Scene should be out in about a month. There are two new books (never released in any part) that I am finishing.

I have been thinking of converting this story into a complete book but he more finished products keep getting in the way.

Sunday, July 19, 2015  

I am back! Two and a half years later and there is nothing further so I guess it will be a 1. I just finished The Pony Wish by I. Bnder and that was a superb story but it ends as Amber is being taken off to start her life as a pony girl. Start! If you like pony play read it, but... At least there are others stories by I. Binder, nut how many will just be prologue??? Laura Anne Lynn

Monday, March 25, 2013  

Great story except the ending. Being sold into slavery is the conclusion I should draw I guess? The women that captured Samantha: are they persons that completed the program?

Wednesday, February 20, 2013  

Many people can start writing a story and begin to develop characters and themes. Few are really good authors who can start a truly exceptional story such as I. Binder has done with Searching For Enlightment. But truly rare is the great author who can end a story as exceptionally well as they start it. Samantha's contract is set for a year although it has possible extensions and thus the reader feels deserving of a story lasting at least a year. This story has absolutely no ending. It is left on the pathway in the middle of the night. Most of the reviewers spoke of their disappointment in the abruptness of the end of what was printed here.

While the author uses the very old and trite "didn't read the contract" at least sections of the contract were subsequently included although not nearly enough to have been of the quantity to have made Samantha not bother to read them. Include the full contract. We don't know if it is more than one page as it is on a scrolling type page, but as Samantha had carefully submitted all the previous forms and applications why would she not read the contract. Especially why would she not read the contract after putting on all the adornments and checking off on so many items she did not understand? Could it be she was as excited as many of your readers were at this point in the story? Was it because the author didn't feel Samantha would still believably continue with the program if she did read the contract? Does the author not believe just how desperate Samantha was about facing her bleak future. Wasn't that the purpose of all the preliminary questions on the website? The author is so close to a great introductory seduction of Samantha and her acceptance of her participation in this experimental program. It is still possible.

But alas the author has no experimental program to share with the readers. All we are given is a sham front for a slavery ring. Though we are not even given any proof that anyone has yet to be sold into slavery. Even the advocate is apparently still part of the program. The potential is still here for the author to expand the story by an estimated four times to write a complete story about this experimental program. If the same care, skill, imagination and craftsmanship went into another 84 pages (3 x 28), this story would be worthy of making it into the top ten stories on the site. In the meantime I'll withhold my vote for up to two years to see if the author can come through. Will it receive a 5 or a 1??? Laura Anne Lynn

If not I will just assume that Samantha and Sarah squirm their way to the fountain, soak their ropes and escape their bondage and lead a successful revolt at dawn landing all their captors in prison for 20 to life.

Saturday, August 25, 2012  

Outstanding. There are so few stories that balance the mechanics of bondage with the effect on the subject's mind.

I found the ending frustrating because I wanted to know what happened as the programme progressed. Perhaps a sequel which fast forwards another girl to the point where Samanta failed would allow this theme to continue. I would certainly want to read such a story ... but with some trepidation lest the second heroine also failed at some point.

I could not endure a series of such "cycles!"

V.S.

Monday, January 30, 2012  

Betty says:

I have two complaints. First: this story is about twice as long as it needed to be. It becomes tiring reading the same paragraph again and again...

Samantha thought to herself "My life sucked, but now it's worse. I made a mistake by coming here. I need to find a way out."

And second: there is a glaring hole in the story's logic. By giving Samantha the knowledge that they were selling girls into slavery, the captors made it impossible to ever let Samantha go free. She seemed like a mildly intelligent character; why couldn't she figure this out?

These two items are the reason this mildly interesting story has stalled in the middle of the rankings instead of climbing into the top one hundred.

Saturday, December 03, 2011  

I just want to say that this is a fantastic story I just finished reading it. From the time I began reading it, I could not put it down. The description of Samantha and Sarahs joint bondage is outstanding. I'd think about it all day long at work and my job is BORING. I would go back to reading it as soon as I got home, to the exclusion of everything else I do onlline or on my computer, such as working on my own writing. I know it probably is not likely but it would be great to see soem pen and ink drawings of the bondage scenes, too bad, they'd look amazing. I also want to BEG you to pleeeeeeeeaaaaaaase reconsider doing a follow-up on Samantha and Sarah's future misadventure as slaves. (Maybe they would both be sold to the same owner?) I do so appreciate a bondage story with deceit, misdirection, trickery, etc as its basic foundation. I would so look forward to reading a follow up (w/drawings?) In the mean time I will read the accompanying story "The Summer Job." It looks to be equally as good on all levels.

Again, please reconsider. I can only imagine how much work it was to write such an appreciable, and highly believable story.
Thanks,

Thursday, December 01, 2011  

I can think of almost nothing that would be much of an improvement on this story. First Class!!! I wish you'd reconsider writing a follow-up story or even make a series out of it! :-) Please... you write such a good story. I am not overly generous with a rating of 'outstanding' It took no deliberation to give this story such a rating.

Sunday, May 08, 2011  

Love the beginning scenario, semi tricked in to self bondage, very arousing. Creative ideas on how she was to be forced in to staying that way. Would love to have seen her be forced in to even more strict slef imposed restraint.

The "ending" was pretty disappointing as it really wasn't one.

Still, very nice.

uluv2btied@yahoo.com

Wednesday, May 04, 2011  

Great story - would like to see a sequel
BTW - it's "gallon", not "galleon".

Monday, May 02, 2011  

A well developed story until the very abrupt and unfulfilling ending. Also has a number of annoying typos.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011  

Great story - do consider the statement about not updating :) However I do understand that the open ending helps avoiding the risk of moral problems

Wednesday, April 20, 2011  

Outstanding work. I would love to see the sequel, as well. Ending was a little quick, but makes one imagine the cliffhanger that leads into a "Part II" quite nicely.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011  

The story was quite wonderful, however I was rather disappointed by the easy-way-out ending that caps off this piece. Still a very good story, but it could have been much better with a proper ending.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011  

I'd love to see what happens too.
Good story so far, more to read will be great

Monday, April 18, 2011  

Once one accepts the technical impossibilities, it is a well told and well developed story. So much so that I was deeply disappointed by the abrupt ending. I was really looking forward to see what happened next.

Monday, April 18, 2011  

I loved the total control by a passion-less computer, and then at the hands of fellow captives. Great story!

Monday, April 18, 2011  

too bad there won't be updates, I'd love to see what happens next.


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