Alternative Ending

CHOICES AND CHANCE

So now I had five more days of legal work with Ferguson and the boys before the last of the Pain Slave Lotteries. My Tuesday meeting with Svetlana to discuss final arrangements for concessions at the Pacific resort was postponed because she said she had to go downtown to be at the BSP headquarters when the BSP worked over Crystal. "There really is not a problem. Everyone knows that, not only would it be horrible for business if Crystal was harmed, Crystal has many friends and secret admirers. I promised Lermanov, though, that I would go along with Sofia to watch. Although I trust the BSP not to hurt Crystal, I have to pacify Lermanov.

"Also, I need to make sure Crystal does not suffer too much in anticipation. I am sure she would have been fine except that Lermanov has gotten her more worried than she should be. For all the crazy risks she's taken, she actually has a very healthy fear of dying. If you are looking for consistency, don't deal with human beings."

There was a sense of great enthusiasm flowing through the BLC. The BLC sold the 150th Lottery relentlessly on the special state television channel and through other means to pump up the studio crowd as well as the Internet audience. The lottery tickets to have sex with the Seventh woman to be chosen in the topless round sold briskly. Films of Crystal giving her introductory speech and being worked over and penetrated were all over the Lottery TV channel. If the BLC was not pretending to keep the Lottery secret, the Cultural Ministry would have had a parade downtown with Crystal being gang banged on a float as the queen of the parade.

Tuesday, one BLC sales manager with whom I was working on the dreary topic of collecting service taxes on certain services for the Pacific resort, waxed poetic saying that, although he knew it was pure chance, it seemed that provenance had led the Lottery Machine finally to produce two really marketable pain slaves. "Chiara is booked for months and the demand for Crystal is off the charts. I think if upper management let us, we could keep Crystal on the rack or on her back 24 hours a day for a year." I lost my temper and said that the BLC was getting such good pain slaves because it had paid a bundle to get participants and that the BLC knew full well that if it worked Crystal too much, she'd soon be worthless. He replied, "You're right, I hope the Lottery Machine produces another pain slave as good as Crystal. We can work them both as much as is possible. Maybe, as a Christmas bonus, the BLC will let me screw a slave." He stared at my body like I was a very tasty piece of meat. I scowled. We got back to service taxes and how to report collecting them discretely.

Later, I thought of what it would be like having a jerk squeezing one of my breasts, like Daria had squeezed Irina, and not being able to do anything more than respectfully request not to be tormented and count on Sofia and her crew to assure there was no permanent injuries or marks. I felt afraid.

Although my risks of becoming a slave had gone down considerably, I was more worried about my future than before. I'd watched two acquaintances taken down hard. I knew that the fact that it had been only a 1/12th risk would be of no comfort if I were the one chosen. Also, how would I go home? I had learned a lot about myself over the last year. I had provided some fine pornography to the world for uses that I could not control. If I was not the unlucky one to come so far and become the 150th sex slave, I had to face the rest of my life.

When I next saw Svetlana on Wednesday, she too was crowing about how well the "Lotteries of Submission" had gone so far. "If there was a way to rig the Lottery Machine, I'd probably have taken Freja first as she could really have been used in promotions and I don't know if she'll participate in the future. When it came to Ashley and Crystal in the second of the lotteries, part of me was hoping the machine would pick Ashley; both because I love Crystal and because I knew that Crystal would keep participating until she was a pain slave. It was just a matter of time.

"But it worked out beautifully. If you can believe it, Ashley's so-called 'miracle escape' has already led to getting more very attractive women to participate as potential pain slaves with the Rev. Jeremiah and Ashley's husband out recruiting attractive women who can help the church. We let Ashley's husband have sex Crystal today as a finders fee, which gave Crystal a perverse form of revenge although Ashley has not been told."

The Thursday before the special lottery, Mann, Walker, Anderson, and numerous others arrived at the hotel. There was a reception Friday that the participants were required to attend. I was too nervous to say much. The Rev. Jeremiah was there talking about what a great thing Ashley was doing and how he expected that other of his lovely parishioners would soon be following her in footsteps in earning money for the mighty church. "As they saw last Saturday, God protects the virtuous and punishes the wicked," I nearly puked. Crystal, who it is rumored grew up as the daughter of a hypocritical preacher, would probably have punched the Rev. Jeremiah in the nose if she were not a pain slave off being screwed.

All the women were on edge. Although we had much less of a chance of becoming slaves than five weeks ago, the stress of taking the risk three weeks out of five was starting to get to everyone. Madison slapped me across the face pretending it was an accident that happened when she pointed out a fancy chandelier to Amy. Apparently protecting lottery participants from each other was not part of Sofia's job. She just laughed. I briefly thought of promoting the Lottery's sales by getting into a brawl with Madison on the floor of the reception room, but decided the cheerleader turned stripper was probably a better at cat fighting than me.

I retreated to the other side of the room where Freja and Inger were having an animated discussion in some Scandinavian language. Probably it was better that I could not understand. They made more than one reference that sounded like "dum valdsam Americansk" or something like that.

Saturday morning, we were topless up on our pedestals again, this time with the special rules designed to maximize the porn and humiliation while shortening the down time. Yegor introduced Joanna as the replacement on the 12th pedestal for Crystal. Joanna said she needed the money to replace equipment, for hospital bills and other losses she'd suffered during her last mountain expedition. He asked me how I felt about my future while many men and a few women were pounding the BLC property known as Crystal. I truthfully said, "Scared shitless." He whispered for me to "do something" and I held up my breasts, bit my lower lip, squirmed coyly and said, "Oh please, Machine don't take these and the rest of me. I'm so soft and men can be so hard." My nipples were erect, the points looking like huge 1.5 cm pencil erasers, the way they often look when I'm really excited. Yegor whispered, "Great, Thank you."

The Lottery Machine spoke. The six women chosen were Amy, Joanna, Madison, Margaret, Olivia and me. I felt I was the cat in the box. Freja was chosen as the seventh woman who was had on stage while the six of us moved over to the semi-finalist position. For a while, there was nothing to do but watch Freja with the huge guy who won the Seventh woman lottery. As instructed, she took his cock into her pussy and bounced up and down reverse cowgirl style for the camera. I think she somehow enjoyed the embarrassment and humiliation. The liquids flowing when she got up indicated the man had been satisfied. I wondered how this would affect her modeling career for a moment before coming back to the problem of me.

Svetlana redirected attention back to the six of us on the semi-finalist stage. After saying how beautiful the next slave would be, Yegor pushed the big Lottery Machine button. I inhaled deeply. The numbers that came up were Madison's and mine. I'd either have a hard-core porn movie of me or I'd become a pain sex slave for perhaps the rest of my life. OMG

During the next break, I used the participants' toilet and walked to the finalist platform for the first time. I thought about how the BLC management was probably praying that they got million-dollar me as the slave instead of cheap slut Madison.

Through the measuring round, there was nothing to do but watch dimensions flash on the screen. 173 cm tall, 107-68-104, DD cups and much other useless data appeared. The measurements seemed right for one or both of us but I was not following the numbers. I was focusing my mental waves at the Lottery Machine while Yegor was doing his usual rap about what wonderful slaves either of us would make while mainly looking at me. Once, I felt myself lapse into willing the machine to pick me. But I had firmly gone back to concentrating all my mental powers on directing the Machine to pick Madison as Yegor pushed the button.

Perhaps Anderson's quantum physics is better than Svetlana's mental power theory. Perhaps, the Machine caught my mental lapse or something else went wrong. Anyway, the fucking machine picked me.

DEBUT OF 150th SEX SLAVE

From the crowd noises, it seemed Bolry had won the World Cup again. The BLC abbreviated the usual photography of the new slave to make it possible to go directly to the sex with the runner-up. Madison had enough time to shout at me, "Have fun as a pain slave, you stuck up bitch," before she was slammed onto a bed by the guy who got to screw her. I was whist into the hall leading to the dungeon. Svetlana and Sofia were there.

I knew the way. No one talked for about half a minute. I was scared. I felt crushed by the way I had been had by the BLC, the firm and my own kinky desires and stupidity. I hated myself. Tears were forming in my eyes when Svetlana started a little talk. "You should not despair. You are going to have a painful couple of months and much painful and humiliating treatment for decades after that. But I know you will like much of it although you might not be willing to admit that. We are going to do much to end your past life, but we won't even be able to do that. We have no interest in destroying any part of you. You have three sponsors who have all said that they will be checking on you regularly as well as having sex with you, of course. You have a much lower chance of dying through violence than Pyotr, Lermanov, or me or even Sofia here. You will still be brilliant Laurel. You will still have a life, probably a very happy one. There are people who love you."

Svetlana's talk did make me feel somewhat better.

We reached a preparation room where an older woman in a gray dress straightened my hair slightly and looked at me as though she had seen the future for a thousand years. While that was happening, Sofia instructed that, just as I should never fake an orgasm, I should never act like something hurt more than it did. "Just act naturally. If you act like you are in agony when we know you are not, we won't believe you when you really do reach your limit. You know what happened to the little boy that cried wolf. On the other hand, don't try to be more heroic than you are. If something really hurts, you can scream and sob as much as you feel. That's part, a small part, of how the BLC people whose job it is to protect the property know to intervene. Also, of course, making you scream and cry is part of the customers' fun."

Next, to the dungeon. I went in as the guest of honor, steady on my feet but very frightened. The crowd was there that I would have expected: a bunch of muscle bound, well-endowed guys wearing black leather pants with drop fronts, Ferguson, again in a suit like he was at a closing, Jacobs and Redstone, both also in suits, and Leslie also not dressed for sex but as though she was going to the opera. Mann, Walker, Anderson, and four or five other guys were there in robes as was Ms. Gentile and a couple women I did not know. All seven other pain slaves were there attached to the back wall. I was pleased to see that Chiara and Crystal did not seem damaged in any way. Crystal even gave me a little smile. Natalya and Irina I knew of course. It was not hard to pick out the Chinese woman who had an expression like a torture chamber was the most normal place to be in the world. The last two women were gagged and blindfolded, perhaps so they would not freak out or so that it would matter less if they did.

First, we had to film the introductory submission. While that was set up, I could see on a monitor that Madison was getting reamed up the ass while dripping down the front. The winner of the runner-up lottery was getting his money's worth.

I did not have time to take any satisfaction in Madison's situation. The Director said, "Since Laurel here was so good as to call special attention to the issue of the ownership of her incredible breasts, we are going to emphasize that in the intro. We can contrast the two clips in future ads."

I was told to put my arms behind my back and my elbows were tied together forcing my boobs to be thrust forward. One of the black leather guys tied rough scratchy ropes around my breasts constricting them painfully.

My nipples and the little bumps on them bulged out more than I'd ever seen before. The Director said, "Out of our great respect for your intelligence and marketing ability, we will let you ad lib the submission speech but make sure you emphasize you are now owned and can be had for anything safe." "Including pregnancy," Svetlana added, "and don't mention the BLC or Bolry. We may want to use this in places to explain what you now are without disclosing where you are."

They lifted me onto the wooden horse and, although they lowered me gently, it immediately hurt like hell. I felt like a perfectly scared and spiritually beaten slave. I whimpered out, "Hi, I'm Laurel. As you can see, I did not get to keep my breasts for myself. They and the rest of what used to be my body can now be rented for any sexual use that does not damage the goods. I used to be a Manhattan lawyer riding high. You can ride me high and low like a Coney Island roller coaster, whack me around and knock me up. I took chances knowing it could lead to this. Now I'm a pain slave." I sobbed a little without having to fake at all. The ropes on my breasts and the weight of my body on my sex were starting to kill me. The reality of the rest of my life was pressing my mind about as hard as my labia were pressing the wood.

The Director gave me a big thumbs up. I was blindfolded and the headphones were attached. I was briefly amused as I heard Scheherazade coming through the headphones. That only lasted through the opening violin solo before the sound went to white noise. Svetlana could make jokes about Rimsky Korsakov but the BLC wasn't going to give me any real breaks.

I started to feels smacks all over my upper body from what I assumed were light whips. No one of the hits hurt much. They built up to utter agony. I did not feel any compulsion to act brave and acted just as I felt. The breast bondage remained horribly uncomfortable. I gasp, groaned, sobbed, and cried without putting anything on. I would have been writhing in agony except that that would have put more pressure on my bottom, which really hurt. The sensory depravation worked. My mind was hardly working except to receive pain. Finally, the BLC guys took off my blindfold and, while on camera working a vibrator on each of the other slaves, took the ropes off my breasts, removed the earphones, lifted me off the wooden horse, and let me rest a minute or two. The flesh and blood returned to where it should be. I came to myself again. That was not necessarily good.

Next I was on my knees on a little platform that brought my chest up to the height of a man's waist. I was bent back against a pad with my head also bent back against pad so that it was as though I was in a dentist chair with my head not much higher than my breasts. The Director said I should keep my arms behind my back and my eyes closed. Some man came up and placed a large cock between my breasts and began to massage it with my breasts. He did not start gently and got less and less gentle with my breasts as he came close to coming. I was amazed when he managed to spray semen into my face. It was meant to be humiliating. It worked. I felt like a piece of flesh that had been used like a piece of flesh. I just kept my eyes closed and tried to think about something else until someone toweled me off and the Director said it was safe to open my eyes. I did not want to do so.

I knew I was far from done. I was taken to the same waist high padded bar over which Crystal had suffered and, like her, bent over the bar, feet spread and attached to the floor with my arms cuffed to the short post ahead of me. Instead of blindfolding me, they had me face a TV monitor and a camera so I could see the black leather guys use a blow torch to heat the brand and everyone could see me see watch with wide open eyes. Later, I wondered whether Svetlana had taken me to Crystal's slave debut to prepare me for the pain or to raise the level of pain. I don't think it helped me to see what was coming. At the time, I did not think anything. I just felt fear and the brand on the fleshy part of my soft but firm butt. The pain was intense but did not last long. I guess the nerve endings died quickly. If they were trying to elicit a blood-curling scream from me, they got what they wanted. The smell of my own burnt flesh was as sickening as you'd expect.

Next I got the same sort of ponytail up my ass that Crystal received. Jacobs, Redstone, Leslie and others were snapping pictures of me with my new brand and the ponytail. They were laughing and having the time of their lives. I took that in and thought of all the people in New York and around the world watching my pain and humiliation. If people could literally die of embarrassment, I'd have died.

They let me just hang for a while. After I had regained my ability to think, I saw them playing with their electric toys. Little pads were put on either side of my inner lips. I got numerous shocks in the very most sensitive part of a woman's body. The pain was so intense that I felt nothing else but the pain and could think of nothing but the pain although I tried.

When the shocks ended, they were done for a while with the pain and humiliation for pain and humiliation's sake. Life immediately began to improve when I perceived that the ponytail was not just there to humiliate. There was an applicator inside of the ponytail with lubricant that was squeezed into my rectum. The ponytail came out. Walker firmly forced his condom covered cock up my ass to great applause in the room. He squeezed my breasts while acting like he was trying to send me into outer space, hitting my G-spot from the back door. He took his time and pounded me over and over. It worked. I had an orgasm before being left to hang over the rail again while I caught my breath. I felt terribly used and satisfied at the same time.

I was pulled up onto a bed and told to spread my legs. Mann looked at me, smiled, and jabbed into my vagina whispering, "I guess it had to be." He thrust in without a condom and went in and out like it did not count unless his cock touched my cervix with every thrust. I ignored where I was and who was watching and opened up completely as Mann kept it up like a jackhammer made of flesh. I amazed myself with an incredibly intense orgasm that sent vibrations through my whole body. Mann came himself and slowed down gracefully before withdrawing, waiving and whispering, "I'll be back often," before moving away.

Stood up and turned around, I worked myself down on the cock of a guy who was on his back where I had been. Bent forward, I another cock went up my ass. It was my first double penetration. Naturally, I felt incredibly full, with a cock pushing my G-spot into another cock. The man below me gently ran his fingers over my breasts, before squeezing them forcefully while the guy above me pulled my hair just enough for me to feel it. The guy below began sucking on my left nipple swirling his tongue around my erect tit. I came a little before the guys did.