Sara had to lay down to snuggle into her jeans. They were brand new, and as usual, she didn’t even wash them before the first wearing. Washing loosens up the fabric if you use cold water, so they sag, and if you use hot water they shrink so you never get a good fit. No, for nights like this, they come right off the rack and onto her hips.
Drawing her stomach in, she buttoned up the fly and got up. Whoo, that was a challenge. She looked in the mirror and admired the sight. The jeans looked painted on. They followed each curve of her ass and legs, tapering down to her narrow ankles. She’d thought ahead and put her anklet on first; it peeked out from under the cuff, and played peek-a-boo as she pointed her toes. Perfect.
She decided to go barefoot tonight, and wore a more conservative than usual half t-shirt up top. That would keep the judge’s attention on her legs. She did a few tentative stretches so she knew exactly how much give she had to play with, and what she could bend where. Confident, she poipped on her cowboy hat and stepped out from her changing room.
The other girls were already in the wings, talking and peeking out of the curtains. She joined the crowd and shook hands. They were all friends the rest of the week, but when those lights went up, it was all business. They had all gone in different directions strategy-wise; Katlyn had gone with short-shorts that showed off her tattoos. Jeannie was in a leather teddy under some running shorts. Several of the girls had chosen jeans like her, but nobody could pack a pair of tight jeans like she could. Soon a man came over and called the girls to gather round.
“Hi ladies, I’m Mr. Babbitt, and I’ll be the MC tonight. I want to thank you for participating in this little show. Now there is a prize for the winner tonight, but I have some nice news for you all. We’ve had a new sponsor come on board at the last minute, a company called Sili-dyne. They make designer belts, and they’d like you all to have a free sample of their product. Now each of these belts go for over $300 dollars each, so I think you’ll agree this is a very generous gift.”
“Three hundred dollars?” Sara said. “For that kind of money it should have a grappling hook and a gasmask.” That got a good laugh. Mr. Babbit laughed too, and continued “Well, designer clothing runs high, and all you gotta do is wear the belts for the show. Make a sort of fashion show out of it. They’re over here.
He led the girls over to a table laden with a wide assortment of belts. From little silver ropes to wild things made of metal plates, they were all very nicely made. Not the kind of thing she’d buy for herself, Sara thought, but not bad to get as a gift. The girls all chose belts quickly, slipping them on, oohing and aahing over each other’s choices. Sara waited a bit, choosing deliberately. She picked a leather model, jet black and covered in studs. The buckle was a huge affair, a giant silver pair of lips. Perfect. She wore it loose, hanging over one hip. Te looseness of the belt drove home the tightness of the jeans.
“Okay girls, we’re ready to go.”
They drew numbers and stood in line. Sara drew a 4—not bad. Not first so they forget her, but not at the end so they’re tired of seeing girls. The lights went up and she put her game face on. She heard the announcer start his spiel.
“Hot City Nightclub, in association with Sili-dyne Controlwear is proud to present its 1999 Hottie of the Year contest!” The applause went up, fighting with the booming bass music.
“I’m your host, Joey Babbit, and I wanna welcome you ladies and gentlemen...okay, just you gentlemen...” The audience roared; the promise of pretty women made things funny. And on with the show!
The crowd applauded as the curtains opened. The girls all started posing and playing to the crowd immediately. Sara hooked her thumbs in the belt playing up her cowgirl look. She used the belt as a prop, figuring that would make the sponsors happy. Couldn’t hurt her chances.
“Let’s meet our contestants, shall we?” the MC called each of the girls forward and they did their little act. Sara could see between the lights from where she stood. As she waited, she scanned the audience. Not the usual crowd for one of these shows-she saw a lot of business suits. More cocktail glasses than beer cans. And they seemed very...relaxed. Almost like the show hadn’t even started yet.
“And here’s Sara!” She wasn’t paying attention-she got back on track and sashayed down the catwalk. She winked and wiggled to the crowd, patting her behind and giving a pass or two to the belt, sort of showing it off. She stepped to the side where the girls were waiting, each of them playing up the crowd, trying to keep the attention on themselves.
The MC got everyone introduced, and asked them all back to center stage. The girls took their spots, all bending and giggling and making themselves look sexy. The MC gave them a few moments to show off. “Aren’t they lovely, gentlemen?” the audience applauded politely. “Okay, Bill, hit it.”
Sara felt a tingle pass through her body, like she’d just stepped on an ice cube. She looked down to see what she might of touched...or at least she tried to. She couldn’t move! She was frozen to the spot! What was going on? From the corner of her eye she could see two of the girls, also frozen in provocative poses. Their faces looked calm and happy, unaware of what had happened to them. Were they as scared as she was?
“How about THAT, gentlemen?” The men all rose and applauded. NOW the show had begun. “Thank you, thank you, I know it’s not for me... Let me bring out the man responsible for this amazing breakthrough, Mr. Anthony Sallet.
The applause continued as a young man made his way to the stage. He looked about 20, but was dressed in a very expensive business suit. “Thank you, gentlemen. What you see before you is an example of what is possible with my new invention, the portable induction control device, or PIC-D for short. These ladies are currently in a state of complete stasis, completely unaware of their surroundings.”
Sara wasn’t, she knew DAMN WELL what was happening. Anthony waved a hand in front of each girls faces, none moved. Even Sara stayed still as stone, though she could see and hear everything.
“The device is in their belts, which we provided before the show.” so that’s why we got them, Sara thought... “After a few minutes of physical activity...like posing on a catwalk...” a few laughs “the device is able to read the subject’s nerve impulse patterns, and match them. Once that’s done, the device can override the subject’s motor skills.”
Sara couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This belt is controlling me? Why isn’t it working the way he says? She thought about the belt loosely circling her waist...loose? Maybe that was it-she wasn’t wearing the belt tightly enough for it to work right! Maybe she could get out of this...just try to move...just a finger.
“Right now the belts are analyzing the girls’ higher mental functions, and in a few minutes they’ll be ready for the next phase. Are there any questions?”
A man raised his hand and stood. “Can the device be placed in any other types of clothes?”
“Right now, no. The circuitry is just large enough and requires a large enough surface area to function that a belt is the most ergonomic solution. We have been approached by several fetish wear makers to have them design leather body harness wear that could house the electronics, though we feel belts will have a more mass appeal.” A few murmurs from the audience indicated the fetish wear might go over in this crowd. Sam continued, “Also, we are working on miniaturizing the circuitry. We hope someday to get it down to the size of a watch or bracelet.”
Sara was exhausted. She’d tried to wiggle a finger, and it was like the was trying to tip over the Sears Tower. Her body didn’t show it, but mentally she collapsed like a rag doll. Her mind started to grow more cloudy, and her vision began to fade...
Anthony checked his watch. “I think they’ve been out enough now, let’s continue. Now, tonight we’re running the girls from a central station in the back,” he indicated a man at the back behind what looked like a lighting control board, “but you’ll be able to use a personal remote control like this.” He held up a black device covered in buttons. “This one is a dummy for the sake of the show. And yes, the central control station will be available for purchase for those planning to use more than seven PIC-Ds at a time.”
Sara was woozy now. The process must have just taken longer on her. She didn’t know what was going on...but all these men were looking at her...good. She liked men to look at her.
“The girls can be woken up with the push of a button, and they’ll continue as if nothing had happened...” He cued the MC, and the music started up again. He pressed a button, and the first girl in line started moving and posing again. She had her eyes closed, so she didn’t notice she was the only one moving. Another button, and she froze again. “...because to them, nothing has.”
More applause. Were they cheering for her, Sara thought?
“The PIC-D can also control emotional reactions. We can make the subject happy...” He pointed the remote, and the second girl, Katlyn, started to move, clutching her sides in laughter. She giggled and guffawed as if someone were tickling all over. She started to turn blue from lack of air, she was laughing so hard. Anthony stopped her, and she froze again, half bent over, mouth in a grimacing smile.
He went to the next girl and pointed the remote. “...sad...” Tammy started crying like a baby. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she stamped her feet in a tantrum. Her hair flew left and right as she shook her head to and fro. A button, and she stopped short.
“and the one I’m, sure you’re all keen to see, aroused.” He pointed the remote at Sara, and she felt herself wake up. For a half-second, she looked around, but not long enough...oh god. The wave of pleasure hit her hard, and she almost fell over. Suddenly it was as if she had vibrators in both holes, while riding a horse. She moaned and groped herself, ramming a fist between her legs and humping her arm. She didn’t care what was happening to her now, the pleasure had burned all that away. She wanted to come and come and ...
beep. She was a living statue again. But now she felt nothing, just like the rest of the girls. The belt was slow to work on her, but all good things come to those who wait.
The audience applauded again, and Anthony acknowledged it with a simple wave of his hand. “With another button, the subjects will accept voice commands. “Okay girls, off with your tops.”
On hearing that, all the girls rose to standing positions and peeled their tops. Like Sara, most wore no bra tonight, and those who did removed them as well. Jeannie’s teddy gave some trouble, as it opened from the bottom. She reached in her shorts, unsnapped it and pulled the whole thing off. Soon they all stood in relaxed poses, their bare breasts exposed.
“Ten-HUT!” he barked, and the girls all shot to attention, shoulders back, breasts jutting forward. The crowd laughed and applauded. “For an add-on, we can create pre-programmed action sequences, so the girls can become exactly what you wish. For this demonstration, we’re going to turn them all robots. Ready, and...NOW!”
Sara blinked. She felt her body come to life. He arms bent jerkily at the elbows and she began to march around the stage. Her face was a blank, her movements stiff and mechanical. The other girls were making their robotic way around the stage as well. They paid no attention to each other, and occasionally they bumped into each other, breasts bouncing against each other. They simply backed away and turned, like toy cars bumping against a wall. Two girls couldn’t get loose from each other; their arms were locked together, in what looked like a clumsy hug. Anthony walked over to the pair smiling.
“Let’s leave these two like that,” he said, and froze them, gazing sightlessly into each others eyes. The rest the girls made their ways around the stage. Anthony took hold of Sara’s arm and guided her to center stage. “And what’s your name, dear?”
Sara responded automatically. “I am Sa-ra the sex ro-bot.” her voice was a blank monotone. “How may I serve you?”
“What are you programmed to do, Sara?”
“I am pro-grammed to serve in ev-er-y way. Shall I suck your cock?”
“No, Sara, that’s fine, just stand there till need you.” Sara looked down and blanked out again. “Now I believe some of you had asked about male subjects, and yes, the device works on men just as well as women. Boys?” He looked off stage, and two young men came in, naked save for wide metal belts across waists. Their eyes were glazed, their demeanor like sleepwalkers.
“These young men came with two of our early investors, and as a thank you, we’ve designed these belts for them. These fellows have been under for longer for the girls, and by now their wills are almost completely submerged. Examine. Peter, please bring Jeff to arousal.”
One of the men mumbled “yes sir” and knelt before the other, gripping his flaccid member. He stroked the cock sleepily, finally placing it in his mouth and ducking at it. Jeff did not respond to this, above or below.
“We’re playing a joke on Peter-Jeff won’t get erect till I command him. But as you can see, Peter has no qualms with his command. That’s enough Peter.” Peter stood and waited.
“Now let’s have our subjects enjoy themselves.” He cued the tech at the table, and after a few buttons, the slaves all sprang to life. The two ladies already in each other’s arms leaned together into a passionate kiss. Sara dropped to her knees and knelt before Peter, stroking and sucking his cock, which started to thicken in his mouth. Jeff knelt down before one of the girls and suckled at her breast, masturbating furiously with one hand. The other girls randomly fondled, and kissed themselves or anyone else who came near.
“I think you’ll agree that the PIC-D and other coming products from Sili-dyne controlwear represent the next wave in slave and submissive equipment. Now if you’re interested, we can discuss investment and purchase options. Meanwhile, our subjects will be available for inspection.”
The audience rose from their tables and came forward. Money was exchanged, contracts were signed, and Sara and her friends were poked and prodded like show animals. Breasts were squeezed and nibbled, bottoms paddled, and a few gentlemen’s members were exposed for sucking. Sara and the girls made them all happy.
After some time, Anthony made an announcement. Gentlemen, I’d like to thank you all for your generosity. Thanks to the purchases and offers for partnership this evening, I’m happy to say we’ll be able to go into full production in under two weeks. There was a small round of appreciative applause.
“Now I’d like to announce the winner of tonight’s contest. Based on our judges’ choice, and the reaction of you the audience, I’d like to announce tonight’s winner is...Sara!”
Sara did not react. She stood center stage like a mannequin. A technician came up and fitted her with a small headset that would soon make all the commands of the bet permanent. The rest of the girls all rose from their assorted positions and walked sleepily to the wings. In a few minutes they would wake up, the details of tonight’s contest edited out of their memories...as well as any memory of their friend Sara.
“Thank you gentlemen. Let’s start the bidding-10,000, very generous, sir...15,000, thank you, 25...”
Sara went for 125,000 to a gentleman from California who also owned Peter. They spent a nice life together. Her new master was very kind, and she never found reason to complain. Not that she wanted to...or could.
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