The Chosen - Part two


Posted by Doctor Szalinski on June 03, 2003 at 00:29:41:


The women kept yelling and pleading, "Take me!" No, it's my turn!" But the man kept looking at her as he spoke.

"Now, ladies, you know the rules. He said. "we have a new girl, and we have to break her in."

Clara froze in fear "We have to break her in?"

Oh, please God, no! Clara screamed in her head.

Bubala reached up and there was a metallic clicking noise, then the top of the cage opened up with a squeal. The others were still chearing and begging to be taken along, that they could help.

Help? How? What did He mean "Break her in"?

A huge hand, as large as she was decended down towards Clara reaching for her. She began screaming again. Desperatly she reached forwards, grabbing the corner of the queen sized pillow that was her bed, and tried to pull it over her, or crawl under it. Anything to hide from that awful grasp.

The hand took hold of the pillow and jerked it. Clara fell, sprawling across the top. Before she could struggle off the soft surface, huge fingers slid under her, rolling her into the closing fist.

Screaming, Clara desperatly tried to prevent the fingers from closing around her torso, but it was no use. His hand was over 500 times the size of her's, and equally their superior in strength.

He pulled her up, out of the cage, struggling like Fay Wray in King Kong's grip. He brought her up to his face to look at her. As she saw his face growing closer, her struggles became frantic! Her sight filled with the horrid view of his toothy grin.

"No-o." She wimpered, "Please, don't!" Convinced that at any moment that grin would open and she would be plunged helplessly inside.

Bubala opened the top two fingers of the hand holding her, and began stroking across her chest with the index finger of his other hand, examining yer young, as yet untouched breasts.

Clara desparately tried to fend off the probing digit. "Stop!" She begged, her voice wracked with sobs. "Ple - ease stop!"

"Stop?" He replied, questioning her, "Why, dear, We've barely begun."

With that, he closed his fist around her chest again, then lowered her away from his face and began walking out of the room.

Clara got a quick view of the building that her cage was in. It was even more spartan then her cell. Four white walls, a ceiling with a plain light fixture on the ceiling, the cage, which from here looked like the hamster cages in class, sat upon a large table. Yes, a table! A gigantic table, built to Buba's gigantic scale. Clara began to wonder if maybe she not bubala, was the one who's size was wrong.

"Remember," one of the women yelled, "don't fight! Go with the flow!" But she was too far away to tell who had said it.

"Go with the flow" One of them had used that phrase before.
But which one? Was it Tia? She couldn't remember. As for fighting, she couldn't in were wildest dreams imagine how she could possibly fight against this behemoth.

The view of the now tiny cage dissapeared as a mammoth door closed behind him with a loud double click.

Clara couldn't help but think that that click was her death knell.

The room Clara entered was almost as spartan as the one she just left. Again, there were no windows, just four blank white walls. dominating the center of the room was a huge bed. It wasn't that it was scaled to Bubala, it was just massive, period. Four posts, one at each corner, each as large as his arm, a plain headboard with a mirror embedded into it, no foot board. The mattress and foundation sat on a frame that was mounted high on the posts. It sat a couple of feet from the wall.

A small bedside table sat on the left hand side at the head of the bed as one faced it, it had two small drawers. A modest chest of drawers was situated in the corner next to the door Clara had just passed through. It had four drawers in it, and stood about belly high to the man.

It was the ceiling, though, that caught her attention. Two fluorescent light panels sat on either side of a plain, flat mirror, the same size as the bed.

Now why would anybody bother to put a mirror on the ceiling? Clara wondered. She didn't have much time to ponder this, however, as the man had reached the bed.

Reaching out, he placed the hand holding Clara on the bed and spread his fingers. As Clara fell out onto the sheets he pressed his flat palm on top of her, holding her down.

At least the sheets are clean, Clara thought, noticing their soft, cottony fragrance and feel.

"I'm going to remove my hand now." Bubala informed her, "You can either make this easy on yourself, and stay put, or you can make it hard. Your choice."
As he removed his hand from her back, Clara got up slowly. Then she made a dash for the far side of the bed. What she expected to do once she got there, she hadn't thought of yet, she just wanted to get away from this giant!

Suddenly, his hand came down directly in front of her. With a quick motion, he swept it across the sheet, and Clara found herself falling as her legs were neatly brushed out from under her.

She got up and started running in another direction. Again, the hand clipped her ankles and she tumbled sideways onto the sheet.

This happened three or four more times. eventually, Clara tired to the point that she could barely get up.

"Ok, you want to do it the hard way, so be it." The man said matter of factly. "Your first lesson will be in obedience." His voice held neither anger or malice, yet Clara found herself wishing she hadn't run. The other women had warned her about his "discipline".