[Previous] [Next] [Current Results] [Get Thread] [Author Profile] [Post] [Post] [Reply] [Image] [Image] --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Article 38 of 314 Subject: THE LOTTERY 1/49 From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***) Date: 1997/03/20 Message-Id: <5gqbmk$bpm@dfw-ixnews10.ix.netcom.com> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories [More Headers] Chapter 1 Hobby What does a hundred million dollars buy? Want to find out? Just win the lottery. That's what I did. My name is Paul Reiner. I hit the biggest pot in U.S. history-by myself. Knowing what a lovely target that made me I carefully set up several smoke screens and promptly fell off the face of the planet. Discreet inquires found a lovely little Victorian monstrosity for me to live in, complete with staff, pool, and obligatory stone statuary. I bought an expensive sports car. Superb electronic toys. The best in food and wine. And I quickly got to the point of total boredom. So I took a trip to Tahiti. Then Europe. The Bahamas. Mexico. And I grew more bored. I met many women, had a few flings. Got more bored. By the end of the second year I'd seen and done everything I'd ever wanted to do. All my dreams were fulfilled. It was horrible. Everything was so easy I didn't want to do anything. I lost the friends I'd had before the lottery and failed to make any new ones. I started sleeping longer to pass the time quickly. I drove my household staff to distraction. When the gardener quit I took over for him. When the maid quit I did her job too. Only my cook stayed, an old lady on the slippery side of eighty. She had a sharp tongue and took no foolishness from me. I really liked her. Toward the end of the third year she passed away. I made sure she had a fine funeral, not too lavish (I'd learned that much, at least), but more than she'd put aside for herself. Aside from me only a handful of people came. When the service ended I went home and cried myself to sleep. I spent several weeks sunk in gloom and doom. Too depressed to make much effort I ordered so much pizza the pizza parlor started delivering them without my calling. I put on twenty pounds too much and thought about drinking. It seemed too stupid, somehow. One day my sense of self-preservation rebelled. Here I was, probably one of the richest men in the world (as far as discretionary income went), and I wasn't having any fun! That just wasn't right! So I looked around for a hobby. Most people collect things like cars, art, or jewelry. That was too easy. I decided to collect something really challenging. Sex slaves. To make it interesting (and legal) I set some strict guidelines. First and foremost the girl had to be willing and enter the arrangement with full knowledge and consent. Second, she had to be intelligent, witty, and charming in addition to being submissive. Third, I would take only one girl of each major somatype. One blonde, one brunette, one red-head, one oriental, one black, etc. And to make things genuinely difficult, the girl had to be a virgin, between eighteen and twenty-two years of age, new to sex slavery. That, I figured, would make things difficult enough to be interesting. After all, if something's worth doing, it's worth over-doing, right? So I began. Chapter 2 Search The first step was to get myself into shape. A careful program of weight lifting, running, aerobics, and some less formal exercises had the weight off gradually. Meanwhile I started to explore the underworld of sexual slavery, bondage, and its related specialties. Always bizarre, often ominous, and occasionally downright sick, this erotic substrata of the human soul proved fascinating. I found it has many different layers and branches in all directions. An unwary traveller may often find they have gone deeper than they ever intended, and lose themselves in the strange pleasures to be found there. Sometimes they never come back. The world of bondage is a strange blend of danger and trust, excitement and pain, pleasure and denial. Move far enough in one direction and you find yourself entering some new aspect. Sadomasochism, for example, is the darkest deepest pit in the world of sex slavery. Here it's no longer a game, here the pain is real, torture is ascendent. Other aspects include physical restraint, mild pain, enemas, "kidnap" games, sexual torment by orgasm denial, and a hundred others. I oriented myself, setting the boundaries of what I would require my slaves to do and what I wouldn't. I prepared a contract that explained the duties of the slave and what I could force them to do. I also bought sex toys, bondage gear, punishment tools, and all the gadgets near and dear to the hearts of bondage devotees. I fitted out my basement as a dungeon, and several of the bedrooms were redecorated in Modern Rape. One of the bathrooms I remodeled into an enema parlour for less than willing slaves. A second became a sensory deprivation tank. The library annex became filled with all manner of bondage erotica, tapes, books, and magazines. As a coup de gras I installed a color closed circuit television system covering the bedrooms, the two modified bathrooms, the library and the dungeon. Various other cameras covered the outside, like the statuary garden. It had full stereo sound and hooked to a bank of VCR's. It set me back about forty-thousand dollars, but would probably be worth it's weight in raw pornographic material. Finally, I began the search for my harem. My explorations had turned up several contact magazines which I placed ads. I put discreet ads in several "men" magazines for women, and even one major lingerie/sex toy catalog. I advertised in as many European and Asian sex magazines as I could find. I made quiet contact with influential figures in the adult magazine industry. The word spread. Someone was looking for young virgins to become sex slaves. They had to be smart, pretty, and full willing. Someone who had money was willing to spend it to find a harem of inexperienced, young, docile women to do lewd and perverted things to their bodies. The response was nothing short of astounding. By the end of the first month over a thousand responses poured in. The volume doubled the next month, and doubled again the third month. By the second week I had to buy a computer and a pair of large filing cabinets to keep track of them all. I carefully entered vital statistics and filed letters and accompanying photos away where I could find them again in a hurry. During the last month it took twelve hours a day just to read and file the letters. It was a tough job, but somebody had to do it! After the third month volume slackened sharply, to about a hundred letters a week. After six months the responses stopped altogether. All told: 8,326 responses. 1,202 turned out to be instantly rejectable which left 7,124 genuine responses. The bulk of responses came from the United States. The next largest chunk came from Asia, mainly Japan and Hong Kong. Only a smattering were from Europe, with most of those from Scandinavian countries like Sweden and Denmark. Seven thousand responses was a gargantuan pile of work. I dove in gleefully. All 7,124 respondents got letters back. The biggest headache was actually deciding who should be rejected. Sometimes it was easy, like the lady who was 53 years old. Most of the time it wasn't. How do you reject someone who has offered to become your slave? Especially when the girl is mouth-wateringly beautiful? But if I was to actually assemble a harem it had to be done. In the end it got ridiculous. I remember one girl was rejected because she had short hair. I rejected others because I didn't like their photograph, or I didn't care for their letter, or they just didn't appeal to me. To those girls I sent my sincere apologies. It was a carefully worded form letter that I tried to make as complimentary as possible. I hoped it didn't make anyone angry or feel rejected. The first pass cut all but five hundred applicants. To these five hundred a second letter went out, explaining (in slightly more detail) that I was looking for a sex slave who would be required to do what she was told, which might include sexual activities she would find shocking, distasteful, or humiliating. While she would never be in danger of physical injury or severe pain, mild pain (such as spanking) could and probably would be administered to her. This time I got three hundred responses. The others decided that it really didn't appeal to them after all. To these 300 I sent a third letter. This time I stated flat out that during part of her day she'd be vulnerable to "rape", ie. forced sex. If she refused she could be restrained and compelled to perform. This condition chilled all but 73 applicants. To those I sent a cassette tape, picture, and short letter. The tape was a ten minute introduction about myself to let the girls hear my voice. The letter told them to use the tape to make a similar introduction about themselves, and to include two sexual fantasies, their favorite, and one they enjoyed thinking about but considered too wild to actually do. I also enclosed an affidavit for them to sign, indicating they understood exactly what I was offering, and that they not only agreed but eagerly volunteered for it. The affidavit said, in part, "If selected I understand that from 6 P.M. to 6 A.M. of every day I will become a sexual slave. I understand that I will have no control over how my body will be used, that if I resist in any manner I may be physically restrained and forced to submit. The prospect of this excites me and I further understand that no actual harm, severe pain, or risk of pregnancy or infection will be inflicted on me. During the periods of my slavery I waive any and all possibility of my being raped." Surprisingly, I got back all 73 affidavits, with taped fantasies. Now the selection process became painful. All the remaining finalists were really attractive in one way or another, and each I felt would make an excellent slave girl. Listening to the tapes made me impatient to finish things and get to the real meat of the matter. Since I'd decided to collect one from each major somatype I had some help dividing the finalists into manageable chunks. Some categories had only a few girls, others had over two dozen. With such an embarrassment of riches I finally made my choices. 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