Exploding Cupcakes	Back to M	Back to main page

Collected by Djian

Exploding Cupcakes
By Harold

"You look a bit out of place," said the cat.

"Yes, I suppose I do." The man was wearing a conservative grey suit, black wingtips,
and a powder blue shirt. His only concession to the occasion was a tie that was a bit loud.
The cat was wearing what appeared to be an opaque body stocking. A plush tail dangled
to the floor. She didn't wear a mask, but had on a headband to which were attached two
triangular cat ears. She had whiskers painted on her face and her eyes were made up to be
more elongated and catlike. "I'm here on business," the man told her.

"And what business do you have at a Halloween party?"

"I'm selling cupcakes."

"You haven't by any chance noticed all the free food laying around, have you? I like
cupcakes, but you're not likely to sell any here."

"Oh, but these are special. They're exploding cupcakes."

"I see. This is a concept costume."

"Yes. Would you care for one? It's quite an experience."

"Sure, why not."

"Come with me." The man led the cat out onto the porch and sat her down. He sat
down next to her and opened the attache case he carried.

"They're only a quarter," the cat was informed. "How would you like to pay for it--
cash, check, or charge?

"I don't have a quarter on me," she said. It was true. There was no place in her
costume to hide a quarter. "How about charge."

"Certainly," The man pulled some papers out of his case. "Just sign these and I'll
prepare your cupcake." He handed her two sheets of paper. One was labeled 'Informed
Consent and Waiver' and the other was labeled 'Finance Agreement'. Both were covered
with fine print and had an 'X' at the bottom for a signature.

"This says one hundred percent interest," the cat objected.

"Hey, it's a quarter. So tomorrow you pay fifty cents." The cat was somewhat taken
aback by the paperwork, but she was intrigued, so she decided to play along. She signed
the papers and handed them to the man. He handed them back. "Date them, please." She
did so and handed them back again.

"Catherine Lund. Is that your name?"

"Yes, but everyone just calls me Cat."

"Hence the costume."

"It's not very original, I'm afraid."

"Perhaps not, but you get extra points for cute. Regardless, signing your real name
wasn't the best idea you've had all evening."

"So what is the best idea I've had all evening?"

"You haven't had it yet." He pulled out a paper plate, unwrapped a chocolate cream
filled cupcake, and placed it on the plate. Stuffing a firecracker into the side of the
cupcake, he lit the fuse, and handed the plate to Cat.

Cat reluctantly accepted the plate. "But..." BANG! Cat screamed, dropped the plate,
and leapt to her feet. The plate landed on the floor, the circle of icing that had previously
topped the cupcake lay on the plate where the cupcake had been.

What the salesman knew that Cat didn't was that explosions are radial in direction. He
had carefully handed the plate to Cat with the end of the firecracker pointing toward
himself, while the side was turned toward Cat. As a result, the salesman was relatively
unscathed. Cat, on the other hand, had half the cupcake and filling spread across her
chest, the other half of the cake having fled in the opposite direction.

"Oh, dear," he sympathized. "My cupcake seems to have spread itself all over your
cupcakes. Let me help you." He grabbed her tail, dipped the end of it in his drink, and
began dabbing at her chest.

Cat wasn't drunk, but she had had a couple of drinks and was probably a bit more
tolerant than usual. Besides, the utter audacity of it all left her momentarily speechless.
Nonetheless, having a total stranger chasing her nipples around her chest with her tail was
a bit much, not to mention the mess he'd made of her costume.

"Can I borrow your drink?" she asked.

The man handed it to her and continued dabbing at her chest. Cat splashed the drink
over as much of the guy's suit as she could, then handed him the glass.

"Asshole," she declared and stomped off to the bathroom and cleaned herself up as
best she could. When she returned, the cupcake salesman was nowhere to be seen. Cat
hung around the party another hour or so, but it was pretty dull and she finally went home.

Cat wasn't even sure why she'd gone to the party. She had been surprised when her
sister, Mindy, had invited her. Cat had recently broken up with her own boyfriend, and she
suspected Mindy was hoping to cheer her up with the invitation. Mindy had always
criticized Cat's taste in men. As if hers was any better. Her husband, Fred, was a total
jerk and he was an even bigger jerk when he was drunk, which he always was at parties.
Cat had reluctantly agreed to go. Perhaps she would meet someone there, although the
chances were slim considering Mindy's own taste in men. However, she didn't have
anything else to do. Regrettably, it had been a waste. The only interesting person had
been the cupcake salesman, and Cat had poured a drink all over him. Not that she didn't
feel justified, but the exploding cupcake had been the highlight of her evening. That
wasn't saying much, but then it was unusual for one of Mindy's parties to have a highlight
of any sort.

About a week later, Cat was checking her mail, which included an envelope from the
Institute for Rapidly Expanding Pastry. She had nearly thrown it out with the junk mail,
but the return address had caught her eye. Inside, she found an invoice for one exploding
cupcake. The invoice amount was $32, including penalties and interest. Included with the
invoice was a copy of the contract she had signed. Cat read the document carefully.
Apparently, she had agreed to finance her twenty-five cent cupcake at one hundred
percent interest per day, compounded daily. In the intervening week, her 'debt' had
ballooned to $32. She had further agreed that should payment not be forthcoming, she
would submit herself to a period of servitude to the Institute until her obligation was paid.

Cat threw the stuff in the trash. The cupcake thing at the party had been sort of cute,
but this 'invoice' was tasteless and offensive. She was, however, concerned that it had
been delivered to her house. She hadn't given her address to the guy at the party and it
wasn't listed in the phone book. Maybe he'd gotten it from Mindy. It sounded like the
sort of thing one of Mindy's creepy friends would do. She decided to call her sister.

"Mindy, did you give my address to that cupcake salesman guy?"

"What cupcake salesman guy?"

"You know, the exploding cupcake salesman at your Halloween party."

"Cat, I don't know what you're talking about."

"There was a guy at your party who sold me an exploding cupcake. He wore a suit
and looked like he wasn't wearing a costume, but he was."

"I remember seeing you talking to a guy in a suit. I figured he was one of your
friends, since he wasn't wearing a costume, but I don't know anything about exploding
cupcakes."

Cat told Mindy about the cupcake incident.

"So that's what that stuff on the front porch was all about. I wondered what that stuff
was that was splattered all over. But to answer your question, I have no idea who he was.
The only time I remember seeing him was when I saw him talking to you. I can't
remember seeing him before or after that."

"You mean this guy showed up, sold me a cupcake and left? That doesn't make any
sense. Why would he do that?"

"I don't know. He may have been there longer, I just don't remember seeing him."

"He may have been there before, but he wasn't there after. I went looking for him a
few minutes after I'd doused him, and he was gone. I assumed he'd left to change
clothes."

"Maybe so. I didn't talk to him and don't know who he was. You know, you're
really never going to get anywhere if you keep running men off like that."

"They're all such jerks. You should have seen the mess he made of my
costume...Mindy, let's not go over this again. You'll tell me I need to hang out with a
better class of guys and then I'll tell you what a jerk Fred is and we'll have a big fight."

"You're right. Anyway, I don't know who the guy was. Sorry I can't help."

"Thanks anyway."

Cat couldn't remember when it hadn't been like this. Mindy was five years older, and
was always trying to run her life; especially when it came to men. Cat was of the opinion
that Mindy was utterly incapable of perceiving the beam in her own eye. It was hard to
believe she didn't notice Fred's behavior. He was always trying to grope Cat and she
spent most of her time at parties and family gatherings trying to avoid him. Despite her
efforts, Fred would manage to pat her on the ass or kiss her in greeting or parting. He
also had an annoying habit of draping his arm over Cat's shoulders so that his dangling
fingers brushed her nipples. He managed to make it all look very innocent and familial,
but Cat wasn't fooled. Cat's complaints about Fred always made Mindy angry.

Thinking about Fred brought something else to the surface. She'd been aware of it in
the back of her mind, but it hadn't quite registered. Fred had kept his distance at Mindy's
party, and although Cat didn't get close enough to be certain, he seemed to have been
sober.

After a couple of days, Cat had forgotten the whole thing. She was, therefore, rather
surprised when some ten days later she received another invoice. This one was rather
shrill in it's demand for payment. The invoice amount was now $65,536. Cat angrily
threw the new invoice in the trash.

The next day when she got home from work, there was a cupcake on a white paper
plate sitting on her kitchen table. As she picked it up to throw it in the trash, it started
hissing and a white smoke began billowing from the cupcake. Cat dropped it and ran.
The back door was only a few steps away. She managed to get outside and slammed the
door behind her, then collapsed to lie coughing and choking on the deck. After a few
minutes, the outside air seemed to clear away the small amount of gas she had inhaled.
She rested a few minutes more, then looked in through the back door window. The
kitchen was filled with the white gas and she could hardly see the stove and refrigerator on
the opposite wall. She sat down again on the deck to consider her situation. At the
moment her house was full of poison gas. Apparently, this institute or whatever it was,
was serious about collecting money from her. It was absurd, of course. She didn't owe
them anything, certainly not $65,000. Nevertheless, they seemed intent on harassing her.
The cupcake left no doubt as to the culprits. Were they trying to kill her or just frighten
her? They had certainly succeeded in the latter. Should she call the police? That was
probably the sensible thing to do, but she hesitated. She just didn't want the bomb squad
or haz mat people or whomever rummaging through her house. Although Cat rarely used
drugs, she did have small amounts of marijuana and cocaine in the house, and there were
other things that, while not illegal, would be embarrassing if found.

Cat walked over to the back door, held her breath and pushed it open. She stepped
quickly away and walked around the house to the front door. She pushed it open as well,
then went to sit in her car until the house was aired out.

It was dark when Cat awoke. She looked at her watch. It was past midnight. She
had fallen asleep in her car, perhaps due to lingering effects of the gas.

Cat got out and walked to the front door. Holding her breath again, she reached
inside and flipped on the light. The air appeared to be clear. She stood in the doorway
and drew a very shallow breath. There were no apparent ill effects. She drew a deeper
breath. Still no problem. She held her breath again and walked to the kitchen, flipping on
the light. The air looked clear. She drew another shallow breath. Okay so far. She
turned on the range hood, just to make sure. Cat found she could breath normally. She
closed the doors. It was November and the furnace had not been able to keep up with the
open doors. Hence, it was chilly in the house.

Cat went to her bedroom and put on a sweater, then returned to the kitchen. She was
hungry. As she opened the refrigerator, she heard the hissing even before she saw the
cupcake. This time, she didn't make it to the back door.

Cat awoke and looked around groggily. She was in a hospital bed. Hospital? She
tried to sit up but was unable. She was strapped down.

"Where am I? What's going on?" Cat called.

A woman in a nurse's uniform walked into her field of vision. Cat noticed she was
wearing a rather odd necklace. Actually, it was a choker rather than a necklace. It
consisted of a series of rather clunky looking silvery ovals, each joined to the next at top
and bottom by fine gold chain. A red jewel adorned the center oval. The choker clasped
itself tightly around her neck.

"Good, you're awake. We were worried about you."

"What happened? Why am I here?"

"You apparently inhaled some toxic fumes, but you're going to be okay."

"Why am I tied down?"

"When the anesthetic wears off, your incisions will itch and burn. We don't want you
disturbing them until they've healed a bit. They heal fast. We should be able to let you up
by this time tomorrow."

"Incisions? What incisions?"

"Tomorrow, dear. Now try to get some rest." The nurse walked away.

"Hey," Cat yelled. "Come back here."

The nurse returned. She picked up a syringe from a tray next to the bed and stuck the
needle in Cat's arm.

"This will help you relax. We'll talk tomorrow."

Cat awoke again. This time she was less groggy than on her previous awakening. She
looked around. There was no clock and the room had no windows. She had no idea how
long she'd been asleep. She tried to figure out what was going on. She was still strapped
down and had apparently had an operation. What sort of poison gas required an
operation? And what kind of operation? Her thoughts were interrupted by the return of
the nurse.

"You're with us again, I see. I'm going to unstrap you now, but don't try to get up
just yet." The nurse unbuckled the straps holding Cat down and pushed a button which
raised the bed to a sitting position.

"Tell me what's happened. Why did I have an operation?"

"The doctor will be in in a minute. He'll explain everything. In the meantime, just
relax."

"Relax! I'm sick of relaxing. That's all I've done for the past...how long have I been
here, anyway?"

"You've been here five days."

"Five days? I just got here yesterday. How can it be five days?"

"The doctor will explain."

"He'd better. Somebody better explain something." Cat pulled the covers aside and
leaned forward.
"Please don't get up, dear. I don't want to have to strap you down again. Just wait
for the doctor."

"Alright."

Cat lay back against the bed and the nurse departed. The movement caused her neck
to chafe. Running her hands over her throat, she realized she was wearing a choker
similar to the one the nurse had on. She was trying to get it off to examine it more closely
when a man in a white coat entered the room.

"And how are you feeling today, Cat."

"Perplexed, and a bit angry. Otherwise I feel fine. What is this place, anyway?
There's something weird about it. It doesn't seem like a normal hospital."

"I'm glad to see the gas didn't affect your mind. That can happen sometimes. You're
right, of course. This is not a regular hospital..."

"So where am I? What's going on?" Cat blurted.

"Listen and I'll tell you. Listen very carefully. You're at the Institute. You are now a
servant of the Institute..."

"Institute? You mean the Institute for Exploding Cupcakes or whatever you call it?"

"The Institute for Rapidly Expanding Pastry, yes."

"And what exactly do you mean by servant?"

"Just that. You failed to pay your debt, so now you're going to work it off. You will
do whatever we tell you until your indenture is paid off."

"You people are nuts. I don't owe you anything and if you think you can make me
your slave or something..."

"But, Cat, we can and we have. As I said, you will do whatever we require."

"How do you come to that conclusion?"

"Because we can do this." He pushed a button on what appeared to be a remote
control.

Cat couldn't believe the pain. She was being roasted alive, every square inch of her
body on fire. Red hot pokers were being pushed into her eyes and ears and every other
orifice she possessed. Her nipples were being crushed in the jaws of a red hot vise and
every breath filled her lungs with flaming gases.

Then it stopped. The pain was gone completely. Cat felt perfectly normal. All that
remained of the pain was the memory, but the memory was horrible. Cat knew she would
do whatever they wanted if only they wouldn't do that again.

"Now do you understand?" he asked her.

"Yes, I understand."

"Good. Your indenture is currently about $131,000..."

"$131,000!"

"Plus some change. Now be quiet and listen. No more interest will accrue as long as
you're a servant in good standing. Over time, you will work off your indenture.
Tomorrow you'll be going home. You will return to your normal life with the exception
that you will be on call. From time to time we will contact you with an assignment. You
will be told where to go, when to be there, and what special instructions apply. After
you've completed the assignment, you will be compensated. Your indenture will be
reduced by the amount of compensation."

"What do these 'assignments' consist of? How often will I get them? What if I can't
make it to one?"

"The assignments will consist of serving our customers. You will do whatever they
require. Assignments will occur intermittently. If you're popular with the customers, they
will occur more frequently. Should you fail to appear as required, double the amount of
compensation will be added to your indenture. Additionally, you will be punished.
Should you make a habit of missing assignments, you will be taken into custody and the
cost of your room and board would be added to your indenture. When not on assignment,
you would be locked in your cell. We would prefer you live at home and pay for your
own upkeep."

"These services are about sex, aren't they. You're going to make me a prostitute."

"Precisely. And you'd better be a good one. Customer complaints are dealt with very
harshly."

"This is crazy. You know I don't owe you people anything. How can you do this to
me?"

"It doesn't matter how. What matters is that we have. The sooner you surrender to
this reality, the better off you'll be."

"You mean the better off you'll be."

"As you wish. Just keep in mind what things will be like if we don't think we're better
off."

"So now what?"

"So now you get some rest and tomorrow you go home."

The doctor had mentioned one other curious item. He had said that her indenture
would be reduced by fifty percent if she recruited a new servant. Cat wondered what was
involved in recruiting a new servant. Besides, who could she get? She thought of Mindy.
In some ways, it would serve Mindy right. But she couldn't do it. She wouldn't wish this
on anyone. Cat lay back in the bed and cried herself to sleep.

Some indeterminate time later Cat awoke. She went into the bathroom and examined
herself in the mirror. Her incisions had nearly healed, but she was able to locate five of
them. There was one on either side at the base of her neck, one under each breast, and
one in her groin area. She was assumed they had installed some sort of implants that made
it possible for them to do what they had done to her.

She examined her collar. It was chafing her neck again. It might be pretending to be a
choker necklace, but she knew it for what it was. It was the device they were using to
control her. She examined it with her fingers. Two of the ovals joined directly together in
the back with no intervening chain. This must be where it opened. She could feel a small
protrusion where they came together. She flipped it with her fingernail and the ovals
separated. The pain struck instantly and overwhelmed her. It went on and on and Cat
prayed she would pass out, but didn't. After about five years, it ceased. The doctor was
standing over her, having just fastened the collar back in place.

"You were right," he told her. "The collar is the control device, but it works the
opposite from what you think. When it's not receiving other instructions, the collar tells
the implants not to cause the pain. If they don't receive the signal from the collar, they
switch the pain on. The collar only has a range of about two feet, so even if you got it off
somehow, the pain would be turned on as soon as it was out of range. Your collar is your
friend. Keep it on."

"You mean if it was accidentally damaged or something..."

"Exactly. The pain would continue until the collar was repaired and put back in
operation."

"How long was it off?"

"Less than a minute."

"That was under a minute? It seemed like forever."

"You know how time flies when you're having fun. The opposite is even more true.
It's a good thing you did that here. What if we had to drive to your house to put it back
on?"

"Oh, god."

"We've been waiting for you to do that. Most women try to take it off."

"Why didn't you just tell me."

"It's better for you to learn this way. You'll be very careful not to let anything happen
to it now."

The doctor departed and a nurse or orderly came in with a meal. She also wore a
collar.

"And how much do they pay for delivering room trays?" Cat inquired.

"We're not allowed to talk about that. You learn very quickly not to ask questions.
Keep it up and they take you into custody."

"That's what happened to you, isn't it."

The woman nodded, but said, "Didn't I just warn you about asking questions? Believe
me, you don't want to learn the hard way."

Cat ate her meal and drifted off to sleep again. When next she awoke, she was at
home in her own bed. She didn't even wonder if it had all been a dream. She could feel
the collar on her throat.

Cat got up. She had been assured the collar was quite waterproof, but just the same it
worried her to wear it in the shower. What if it shorted out? It didn't, at least, not this
time.

Cat dressed and looked at herself in the mirror. If her collar was going to masquerade
as jewelry, why did it have to be such ugly jewelry? Surely they could have designed
something more tasteful.

The phone rang. It was her first assignment. She was instructed to go to a certain
address at a certain date and time. She was to tell whoever answered the door that she
was there to clean the clock. She would then be shown to the room of an elderly man
who was bed ridden. She was to give him a blow job, then return home.

Cat was worried about this assignment. She had only done one blow job in her life,
and she'd hated it. The recipient hadn't been all that thrilled with her performance either.
Nevertheless, she rang the bell at the appointed time.

A teenage girl answered the door. "I'm here to clean the clock," Cat announced. The
girl led Cat upstairs, stopping outside a closed door.

"He's in there," the girl said and walked away.

Cat opened the door. An ancient man lay in a bed next to the window.

"Are you the one? About time you got here."

Cat was annoyed by this remark, since she had arrived at exactly the time specified.
She approached the bed.

"Well, get to work," the man wheezed.

Cat pulled the covers aside. The man wasn't wearing any pajama bottoms. At least he
was clean. She had been worried about that. She knelt and sucked the flaccid member
into her mouth. It seemed to take forever for the old man to get an erection, but he finally
did. It took even longer for Cat to get him off.

"Not bad for a beginner," he croaked. "I always like them to send me beginners. It
lasts longer that way."

Cat agreed that it had taken long enough, although she thought that had more to do
with him than with her. Her own opinion was that someone experienced could probably
make it last even longer. Cat's goal had been to get it over with.

Cat left the room. It occurred to her that she had not said a single word to the old
man. She went back down stairs. There was a teenage boy there, about the same age as
the girl who had let him in. The girl was still there as well.

"I'd like my clock cleaned, too," he announced.

"Right here, right now?

"Sure. Why not?"

"I'm sorry," Cat said, "I don't have instructions for that. What about her, doesn't she
clean clocks?"

"Of course not, she's my sister."

"You were about to do it in front of her. It's only a small step away from having her
do it. This way you won't have to send out."

"Yeah, but..."

"C'mon, sis," Cat said, taking the girl by the hand and leading her over to the boy,
"time to earn your keep."

"But, I've never..."

"That's okay. Grandpa upstairs likes beginners. Besides, it's likely to be a survival
skill around here."

"Now, on your knees," Cat said, thrusting the teenager to a kneeling position. "And
you, junior, whip it out. You can't expect her to do all the work."

"This isn't what I meant..."

"Hey, you're a guy. What do you care who cleans your clock, long as she's female--
you're not gay are you?"

"No, of course not."

"Good, then it's all settled. Tell you what. I'll help you this time, but next time you're
on your own." Cat unzipped the boy's fly. "Okay, sis, open wide. He's already got it up,
so the job's half done. My guess is the other half won't take long."

Cat pushed the girl's face toward the boy's erection. "C,mon, honey. I said open up."
The girl reluctantly opened her mouth and Cat pushed her onto the boy. "That's better.
I'll leave you to it."

As Cat walked out the door, the boy was standing in a sullen teenage slouch, while the
girl was kneeling with his dick held loosely in her mouth. Both were immobile. Cat
wondered if they'd really go through with it. Probably, she thought. He may have been
young, but he was a guy. Once he had his dick in someone's mouth, it wasn't coming out
until she'd gotten him off.

Cat left and drove herself home. She hoped she wouldn't get in trouble for that stunt,
but she was angry at being used like this, and the smirks on the their faces as he asked her
to clean his clock was just too much. She'd removed the smirks, alright. It would
probably be a long time before that kid asked a stranger to clean his clock again. She
wondered how long it would be before he asked his sister to do it again. It was the only
satisfaction she derived from the entire assignment.

The next morning, Cat's phone rang.

"Congratulations, Cat. You've passed the test and completed your first assignment."

"What test?"

"We often send girls there on their first assignment. The old man likes beginners. The
kid always tries to get a free blow job. We use it as sort of a test to see if you can follow
instructions. Every once in a while, someone gives him one. If you'd given him a blow
job, you'd have failed and would have had to be punished. But you passed and get a
bonus. You get $100 for the blow job you did and another $50 for the one you didn't.
You'd normally get $100, but you lose $50 for that stunt with the sister."

"It was worth it," said Cat.

"Probably it was, although we may have to come up with a new test. Anyway, that's
$150 off your indenture."

"You mean your indenture. I didn't have anything to do with it. The only reason I'm
going along with this charade is because you'll hurt me if I don't."

"Yes, we will. Always keep that in mind."

"How could I not?" asked Cat, fingering her collar.

"Quite right."

"So now what?"

"So now nothing. We'll contact you when we have another assignment for you."

Nearly a week later, Cat received another assignment. Two evenings hence, she was
to dress herself in stockings, brief panties, miniskirt, tight fitting blouse that showed some
cleavage, and shoes with at least four inch heels. She was to wear nothing else. She
should catch the city bus near her house at 7:15 that evening, bringing nothing with her
except fare to get her on the bus. The stop she was instructed to get off at was in one of
the more unsavory sections of downtown. She would receive further instructions there.

Cat dressed as specified except for the shoes. She didn't have any heels over three
inches. She chose an older pair that wasn't too expensive and decided they would have to
do. She looked like a hooker. She knew that was what they wanted. She rummaged
through her closet and found a cheap plastic raincoat. The raincoat would allow her to
wait for the bus in her hooker outfit without any of the neighbors noticing her attire.

The bus was only two minutes late. Cat got on. The ride was uneventful. A block
away from her stop, she slid out of the raincoat and abandoned it on the seat. As she got
off, the driver handed her a transfer.

"Take number 22, it comes in about ten minutes. Get off at 32nd and Elm."

Cat took the transfer and got off the bus. She stood on the corner, waiting for the
next bus, trying to ignore the propositions and catcalls from passing cars. A rather
dissipated and dirty young man was wandering by.

"Hey, baby, where's your purse."

"I didn't bring one."

"Too bad. Nice necklace though. How 'bout you take it off so I can get a better look
at it."

Cat turned to run, but the guy was faster. His arm encircled her neck as his other hand
fumbled at the necklace.

"Oh, god, oh, god. Please, don't take the necklace. Please. I'll do anything you
want, anything at all. Just don't take the necklace. I'll do anything. Please."

"Okay, baby. You got a deal. See that park bench over there? Walk up behind it and
bend over."

Cat sat on the bench in a daze. She'd been raped. She was surprised by her reaction.
What was wrong with her? She should be in shock or hysterical or something. Instead,
her main feeling was one of relief. She still had her collar on. Further, she was annoyed
that she wouldn't get credit against her indenture for being fucked. This last reaction
made her angry. It was as if this indenture thing had taken over her life. The problem
was, it had taken over her life.

Cat's musing was interrupted by the arrival and departure of the number 22 bus.
She'd missed it. Now what. There would be another in thirty minutes. She waited.

The next bus arrived on schedule and Cat got on. She got off at the appointed stop.

"You're late, you dumb bitch. You were supposed to be on the last bus." The voice
was simultaneously angry and petulant. The owner of the voice was a middle aged man
standing next to a large four door sedan.

"You asshole. I was raped. You made me change buses in that neighborhood and I
was raped."

"Shut up and get your ass over here."

"Didn't you hear me? I said I was raped. It's your fault. You made me change buses
there. It's your fault," Cat screamed. She began beating at the man's face with her fists
and kicking at his groin with her knees. "It's your fault. It's your fault."

A powerful blow to the stomach propelled Cat backwards and she landed on her butt.
The man got in his car and drove off.

"It's your fault," Cat screamed at the departing automobile. She sat on the sidewalk
and cried. What was she to do now? She had no ID, no money, not even bus fare or
change for a pay phone. She knew where she was. It was about a five mile walk to her
house. Cat would normally not be concerned about walking that far, but in these shoes,
dressed like this, at night, through these neighborhoods, was a different matter. However,
she didn't see any other options. Cat started walking.

After about a mile, she couldn't stand it any more and took her shoes off. She trudged
on. After another couple of miles, a car pulled up from behind and stopped at the curb.
Cat was frightened and then relieved to see it was a police car.

"You girls don't usually work these residential neighborhoods. Let's see some ID."

The cop thought she was a hooker. Cat managed to convince him she was an average
girl who'd just been a bit stupid. She'd met a guy in a bar who'd dumped her and taken
her purse. No, she didn't want to press charges because she didn't think she could
identify the guy. The cop told her a girl like her should know better. She wondered what
he meant by a 'girl like her' but pretended to take the lecture seriously, grateful not to be
walking. The cop dropped her at her house. She took a shower and went to bed.

Cat was awakened by the phone. It was seven Saturday morning. Cat pulled a pillow
over her head and let it ring. After a while, it stopped. It started again. It stopped again.
Cat was seized by the pain for an instant. She got the message and answered the phone.

"Hello."

"We're disappointed in you, Cat. We've had a complaint."

"You've had a complaint! What about me? I was raped because of that asshole."

"Just the same, attacking a customer just won't do. We had to refund his money. We
don't like to do that."

"Just how much did he pay you for my services, anyway?"

"That's none of your business. What we do need to discuss is your own
compensation."

"My compensation? What compensation? You pretend to pay me so I can pretend to
pay off a debt you pretend I owe."

"It doesn't matter how you feel about it. What matters is that the debt exists and that
you will pay it. Unfortunately, on this occasion your compensation will be negative. Your
punishment for failing to satisfactorily complete your assignment is $2000 added to your
indenture plus a one minute penalty to be administered in two segments."

"But I was raped, and I missed the bus, and that jerk didn't even care that I was raped,
he just yelled at me, and..." Cat's own complaint was interrupted by the pain. It went on
and on and on. She wished she could move. If she could move, she could kill herself and
stop the pain, but she couldn't move. The pain was too much and she couldn't move.
The pain stopped.

"Cat, are you still listening? Do I have your attention?"

"Yes, sir. I'm listening. You have my attention. Was that really only a minute? Is it
still Saturday?"

"No, that wasn't a minute. It was thirty seconds. I told you it would be administered
in two segments."

"What! You're going to do that again? Please, don't. Please. I'll be good. I'll do
whatever you want. I'll apologize to him. I'll do whatever he wants. Please don't do it
again. Please, please, please."

"I'm sorry, Cat, but if I let you talk me out of it, I fear you wouldn't take us seriously.
You would think you could do whatever you pleased and then wheedle your way out of it.
I can't let you think like that. You will pay the full penalty."

"Please..." The pain came again. Cat had been hoping that it wouldn't be as bad as
last time, that somehow she would become inured and the effect would be less, but it
wasn't. If anything, it was worse than last time. Why didn't it kill her? How could she
possibly live through anything this awful? The pain stopped.

"Have we made our point, Cat? Are you going to be a good girl from now on?"

"Yes, sir. I'll be good. I'll do whatever you say. Just tell me what you want and I'll
do it."

"I'm glad to hear it, Cat. We'll be in touch."

She couldn't believe it. Besides being tortured so horribly, she was $2000 in the hole.
And here she was groveling, begging for the opportunity to humiliate herself for the
benefit of these bastards. And at this rate she'd be doing it for the next thirty or forty
years and more, if she lived that long. She couldn't stand the thought of spending so many
years like this. She had to do something.

"Sir, excuse me, but I have a question. There was some mention of reducing my
indenture by recruiting someone else. How does that work."

"If you aid us in recruiting someone else, we'll cut your indenture in half. If you find
us three people, we'll eliminate your indenture entirely and you'll be free. Why do you
ask? Do you have someone in mind?"

"Do they have to be women?"

"Yes, they do."

"Well, there's my sister, Mindy." It would serve Mindy right, she thought. She'd
rather turn Fred over to them, but since it had to be a woman, Mindy would do.

"I'm sorry, Mindy is not available."

"What do you mean, not available? Don't you do family members."

"We'll take family members, but Mindy is not available for indenture."

"I don't understand. What do you mean by not available?"

"I mean not available. You'll have to find someone else."

"Oh."

"Well, let us know if you think of anyone."

Cat hung up. She was ashamed that she'd tried to give them Mindy. It was just as
well they wouldn't take her. She still couldn't understand why, and they clearly didn't
care to elucidate.

Saturday passed in a fog, as did Sunday. On Monday, Cat was back at work. So far,
her assignments hadn't interfered with her job since they'd been in the evening. She hoped
that would continue. She wouldn't dare say no to an assignment. What if she had to miss
some work? What would she do if she lost her job? What would they do? Would they
even care?

On Wednesday, Cat got another call. This assignment was to last over the next
weekend. A bus would stop in front of her house to pick her up at six Saturday morning.

"What should I wear," Cat asked.

"Wear some traveling clothes, but pack a valise with some dress up clothes.
Stockings, not pantyhose."

Cat was angry. No sleeping in on Saturday morning. She would have to be up at five
to be ready to go by six. Maybe she could sleep on the bus. But why a bus?

A large touring bus pulled up in front. The door opened as Cat approached. As she
got on she could see the bus was about half full of women, all of whom wore collars
identical to her own. Cat saw the windows were painted black, but she could see out the
windshield. The other women couldn't; all were blindfolded. The driver led Cat to a seat
about half way back. He took her valise and stowed it in the rack. Then he took a
blindfold from his pocket and buckled it in place. Cat began feeling about for the seat, but
the driver stopped her. He seized her hands and locked a pair of handcuffs on her wrists,
then threaded a chain around her waist which he locked to the handcuffs. Cat's wrists
were now fastened at her waist.

"Why am I chained?"

"So you won't mess with the blindfold. I can't watch you all the time and still drive
the bus. Now be quiet."

The driver guided Cat into her seat, then returned to the front of the bus. Cat had the
aisle seat. The window seat was already occupied. Cat realized the windows were
blacked out not so they couldn't see out, but so no one would see in.

"Where are we going?" Cat asked the girl next to her.

"Don't you know not to ask questions? Now shut up before we get in trouble."

It was too late. The driver came stomping back down the aisle. "Who's doing all the
yakking back here? I'm waiting. Who was it?"

"I just wanted to know where we were going," said Cat.

"If we wanted you to know where you were going, we would have told you. Now
open your mouth." He stuffed a gag in Cat's mouth and buckled it in place.

"Now, who else was talking. Was it you?"

"I was just telling her to be quiet," said the girl in the next seat. "Thanks a
lot...mmph," she said to Cat as she, too, was gagged. Cat hoped she hadn't made a
permanent enemy.

The bus continued on its rounds, picking up women. Cat lost count somewhere in the
twenties, but assumed the bus was full when it finally picked up speed on the highway.
She didn't know how long they rode. It seemed like hours, but with the blindfold on, she
had no means of keeping track of time.

Finally the bus stopped. The driver worked his way through the bus removing
blindfolds. The passengers wrists remained cuffed and Cat's gag remained in place. The
girls filed slowly off the bus. Cat saw that two other girls were gagged. One of them
gave her a wan smile of camaraderie.

As Cat got off the bus, she saw several other busses lined up at the curb. They were in
front of a building that must have occupied several square blocks. She and her fellow
passengers were led in through a door then up a series of ramps. They emerged on what
was the top tier of a huge indoor amphitheater. Cat wondered what the big secret with
the blindfolds had been. There couldn't be that many buildings like this around. It
shouldn't be too hard to figure out where they were.

The rear wall of the top tier was lined with small alcoves fitted with barred doors. As
they approached each new alcove, the door was opened and the next girl in line was
blindfolded, then pushed in and the door closed on her. Finally, Cat's turn came. The
alcove was tiny. With her back pushed against the back of the space, they just barely got
the door closed. They had not bothered to remove the gag or handcuffs and her blindfold
had been replaced. Cat thought the chains on her wrists were redundant. There was no
way she could move her arms in the tiny space, even without the restraints.

The seats were filling up with spectators. Cat could hear the noise level increase as
more and more people arrived. They seemed to be mostly male, but she could hear the
occasional woman's voice. The PA carried the voice of an announcer who welcomed
everyone to what was apparently a rodeo. The events began, but Cat couldn't make much
sense of it. The announcer called out the names of the contestants and their scores, but
since Cat couldn't see, the nature of the events was never quite clear.

Cat felt like a zoo exhibit. Every once in a while, passing footsteps would stop in
front of her cage. Sometimes the passers by would comment on her. Other times they
would linger silently and walk on.

The door to Cat's cage opened. She was led back down the ramps. Her blindfold and
chains were removed, as was the gag.

"Get undressed," her handler commanded. Cat removed her jeans, shirt, and shoes.

"Keep going," she was instructed. She removed her socks, bra, and panties. She was
now naked.

"You're entered in the calf roping competition," the man told her.

"But I don't know anything about roping," Cat protested. "I don't even know how to
ride a horse."

"You won't need to. You're the calf."

"Huh?"

"When you enter the arena, go to the center and stand in the chalk circle. When the
bell rings, run," her keeper (as Cat had come to think of him) said.

Cat was thrust into the arena. The door closed behind her. The stands were filled.
The audience was mostly men, but there were a few women scattered around. Most of
these wore casual clothes, but a few wore either lingerie or nothing and seemed to be
captives or servants or something.

Cat turned red with embarrassment from being naked in front of all these people.

"The quarry will stand in the circle," the announcer commanded. Cat saw a chalk
circle about three feet in diameter and went to stand in it. She tried to examine the crowd
more closely, wondering who all these people were and where they had come from.

"The first rider in the calf roping event is Bill Jenkins," the announcer announced.
"Catherine Lund is the calf." Cat was angry that he had told all these people her name. It
was somehow more embarrassing being naked when they knew who she was.

A bell rang and a gate opened. A horse and rider issued from the gate. The horse
sped toward her. Cat had never been around horses much. It was huge. As it
approached, she could literally feel the earth shake as its hooves pounded the turf. The
rider was slowly twirling a lariat.

"Run, you stupid bitch, run," the rider shouted. The horse was very close now. Cat
realized she would be trampled if she didn't get out of the way. She turned to run, but it
was too late. The lariat settled around her shoulders and yanked her from her feet. The
rider dismounted and ran toward her. Cat tried to get up, but the horse backed up,
keeping the rope taut and pulling her from her feet again.

The rider reached her side. He had a length of rope in his hands and another in his
teeth. Cat was turned onto her stomach and her hands were jerked behind her and bound
tightly. Then he grabbed her ankles, crossing one over the other, and wound rope tightly
around them. He pulled roughly on the tail of the rope binding her ankles and her feet
were yanked toward her waist. He wrapped the end of the rope around her wrists so that
she was hogtied with her wrists and ankles closely bound together, pulling her body into a
tight arc. The rider threw his hands in the air and a bell rang.

"It may be a record," the announcer enthused. "if the judges allow it. Yes, it is.
Wait...no. Disqualified. Penalty assigned to the quarry. The rider will get another chance
with a new calf."

"Damn," the rider said and stomped off. One of the grounds crew untied Cat's ankles
and helped her up. Her wrists remained tied. He looped the rope around her neck and led
her away on the makeshift leash. Cat was even more embarrassed being led away in
ignominy like this.

"Now you've done it," her keeper informed her. "You've gotten the ride disqualified
and made an enemy of the rider, not to mention the penalty you've got coming. It doesn't
count if you don't run."

It was all so unfair, Cat thought. She had tried. Nobody had really told her what to
do or what was coming. What did they expect on her first time? It wasn't like she
volunteered for this or anything.

Cat was locked back in her cage. "They're going to go easy on you since it's your
first time," her keeper informed her. "Only $1000 and 30 seconds."

"Only 30 seconds!"

"I know it seems like a lot longer, but it really is only 30 seconds. You can handle it,"
he said sympathetically.

Cat knew she would handle it. There was no choice. It would happen to her and she
had no option but to endure. That didn't make it any easier.

Cat was locked tightly in her cage as the pain hit her. She hoped she would pass out
or something, but she didn't. After an eternity, it stopped again.

Cat stood in her cage and sobbed quietly. It was all so unfair. She was going to have
to endure a whole weekend of this sort of treatment. Bound, caged, blindfolded, led
around naked on a leash, roped and hogtied. What had she ever done to deserve this?

Cat's misery was interrupted by her keeper.

"You get another chance. This time, run. You're expected to give the rider a contest.
There's a prize for the girl who takes the longest to hogtie."

Cat was shoved naked into the arena again. She walked over and stood in the circle.
This time she took off running the instant the bell rang. She ran for the opposite wall,
simply trying to increase the amount of time it would take the rider to get to her while she
tried to think of something else to do. The horse came pounding up behind her. She
stumbled as the rider cast his rope. Cat tucked her head and did a shoulder roll. She felt
the rope land on her back, but wasn't ensnared. She turned a somersault and came up
running, heading off in a new direction. The rider reeled in his rope and wheeled his horse
around in pursuit. His next cast was on the mark and Cat was jerked from her feet again.
As the rider dismounted, Cat rolled onto her stomach and came up running toward the
horse. The horse backed, but not fast enough to keep the rope taut and Cat was able to
slip the lasso off her shoulders. The rider was nearly to her as she gained her feet and
rushed past him. The rider was caught off guard. Cat was between him and the horse.
She did the obvious thing. She raced to the horse, stuffed her foot in a stirrup and heaved
herself onto the animal's back. She had never ridden a horse before, but how hard could it
be? She'd seen her share of westerns. Cat kicked her heels against the horse's flanks and
shook the reins. The horse, sensing an inexperienced rider, didn't budge. The cowboy
had, in the meantime, reversed direction and was nearly in reach of her.

"Hey, move it," Cat shrilled and smacked the horse on the butt as hard as she could.
The horse leapt forward and Cat hung on for dear life. It raced toward the far end of the
arena with Cat pulling on the reins but unable to bring it under control. When it was
nearly at the far wall, it stopped suddenly, planting its front feet and lowering its head,
pitching Cat off its back. Cat flew through the air. She tried another shoulder roll, but
landed hard and the wind was knocked out of her. She lay on the turf moaning and
wheezing. The bell clanged and the crowd roared enthusiastically.

Cat's keeper came trotting over. "Don't move," he instructed. "We need to check for
broken bones."

A doctor came puffing up behind the keeper and the two of them checked her over
pretty thoroughly. "Nothing broken," the doctor informed her. "That shoulder roll saved
you a concussion, but still you hit pretty hard. I'm amazed you didn't break a collar
bone."

A stretcher crew arrived and carried her off the field. The crowd continued to cheer.
Cat was carried into what appeared to be a locker room. Her keeper helped her onto a
massage table, then rubbed her down with liniment and massaged her back and shoulders.
Cat winced as he worked over the more tender areas, but it did seem to help. Afterwards,
she was allowed to rest for a bit. Finally, her keeper prepared to lead her back to her
cage.

"You probably won the prize today."

"What's the prize?"

"Five thousand off your indenture. But don't get cocky. You've made another
enemy. That rider was disqualified, not to mention embarrassed. I think you'll find it's
wiser in the long run to let them catch you, just don't make it too easy."

Cat's hands were bound behind her again and a rope looped about her neck. She was
now on the far side of the arena, so she was led all the way around the top tier. She
wasn't blindfolded, so she was able to see the other girls in their cages along the wall. Her
leash pulled taut as she stopped suddenly in front of one of the cages.

"Mindy! Oh, Mindy. They got you too. I'm so sorry. No wonder they told me you
were unavailable. I didn't realize...Wait a minute! The Halloween party, the cupcake
salesman...they knew where I lived. You bitch! You did this to me, didn't you. How
could you? Your own sister."

"So they told you I was unavailable. You were going to do it to me, weren't you. It
just happens that I did it to you first, but it wasn't anything you weren't going to do to
me, was it."

"Yeah, but you deserve it. If you hadn't done it to me, I wouldn't need to do it to
you... you..." Cat stopped, realizing how stupid that sounded. "Bitch." She turned and
stomped off. "Take me to my cage," she demanded. Her keeper led her away.

By the time they reached her cage, Cat had had a ch