Time and Chance

It says in Ecclesiastes "time and chance happens to them all."

Before recent events, I believed things happened for a reason. Now I am not so sure. Everything used to be knowable and predictable. Mark and I had a wonderful life. We had a circle of friends and were heavily involved in our church. I was thinking that in another two or three years, the time would be right for us to start a family. It was all so wonderful.

Then came the day, how long ago now? I have no idea the days kind of blend into one long orgy of sensation. I'm no longer the woman I was, nor is Mark the man I married. That upsetting factoid is the fault of neither of us. Circumstances have radically altered everything we knew and believed. Even now, I have no idea where or when we are.

A word of explanation. Mark and I had finagled an invitation to visit professor Hallman. His attractive bungalow was not far from the apartment Mark and I shared. It is not every day one gets to have afternoon tea with one of the world's greatest theoretical physicists. We wanted to invite him to church even though we heard he was a professed atheist.

Mark shared a bit of the Good News with him, but the professor, who looked just like Larry from the "Three Stooges" except with a ring of snow-white hair, seemed distracted. He listened politely and then explained that his new project was taking much of his time. He talked about alternate universes and lots of other things that I couldn't follow. My husband seemed to comprehend more of it than I did. At one point the professor donned a wan smile and asked, "What if you found yourselves in a world where Jesus never existed?"

Mark replied that that was an impossible conceit which made the professor smile even wider. The rest of the tea passed uneventfully. I was, quite frankly, bored with it all. I felt like the ultimate third wheel. We politely excused ourselves and began to walk home.

We never made it. Around a familiar corner, we found ourselves in a quite unfamiliar city. We tried backtracking but could not find our familiar streets. There were vehicles, kind of like cars but they levitated off the ground, like Luke's speeder in "Star Wars," All the men were dressed in togas or burnished leather. The women wore very little. We stood out like sore thumbs. A crowd soon surrounded us and began firing us questions and asking what we were hiding with our concealing clothes. We were called, "barbarians" and "invaders" their English was weirdly accented, not British, Canadian, Australian, or even Brooklynese, but seemingly a combination of all of them. Our unaccented American accents really seemed to inflame their ire. Somehow or other a group of what could only be police officers showed up just as the crowd was about to become violent. We were swept up. Put into one of the weird levitating vehicles and transported to a palace.

From there, we were handed off to a knot of hulking intimidating guards. We were frisked and led to what I learned later was the throne room. An obese towheaded guy sat on an elevated chair. He wore a crown of gold laurel leaves. It was both impressive and intimidating. We were introduced as "Barbarians intent on causing a riot," which, while not the least bit accurate, was believed completely.

The emperor (that is what they called him) seemed keenly interested in us. He asked us to give an accounting of ourselves under penalty of death! I fell into stunned silence and allowed Mark to do the talking. He recounted to the fat despot on the throne our events of the day. The man on the throne seemed keenly interested in our religious beliefs and asked Mark to expound on that topic at length. Mark's recounting of the Great Commission had the emperor and the crowd of hangers-on in the room in hysterics. This made Mark quite angry. He hates to see the Gospel mocked.

At a signal from the emperor, we were forced apart a span of at least several dozen feet. "It is good that you were brought here," intoned the emperor to the witnessing police officers and guards. "It has been many long years since our barbarian enemies have tried to infiltrate the empire. Fortunately for the two of you, I am in something of a forgiving mood.

He looked at us in a way that made my blood turn to ice water in my veins and announced, "Strip the male, the "husband," and be quick about it!"

The hulking guards surrounding Mark pinioned him in place. With intimidating blades, they cut off all his clothes. When Mark tried to object, a cruel ball-gag was forced into his mouth. I remained in place, petrified, almost too frightened to breathe. It was all over in moments, my husband was rendered naked and powerless, quite a change from his usually strong, independent attitude. I saw unaccustomed fear in his eyes. That gave me tremendous pause. If Mark was scared, that meant that I should be terrified! The bulky emperor looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and said, levelly and intently, "Reveal the female barbarian! Strip her, nice and slow!"

I stared at the tyrant on the throne. My heart fell into my stomach, but I knew better than to object. I gazed across the room at my husband. Six huge bruisers held him fast. It was made abundantly clear that Mark's life depended upon my compliance.

One of the emperor's guards, all bared arms of corded muscle and burnished black leather, strode forward, a lecherous smile on his rugged face, he reached for the buttons of my blouse. The emperor grinned like the mad man he no doubt was.

My eyes met Mark's I tried to communicate to him that I was not afraid. In fact, I'm sure my fear was obvious. Another of the tyrant's uniformly hulking bodyguards held an intimidating blade against my husband's throat. The gag in his mouth prevented his crying out. But I read in his eyes the loud devotions of his love for me and his urging me not to panic. I felt the guard's fingers deliberately, slowly, parting the buttons.

I felt the chill of the throne room on my ample bosom. How Mark and I had ended up here was a complete mystery. It seems that professor Hallman's theory of parallel worlds with randomly scattered meeting points is correct since nothing else makes any sense at all.

The leering guard forced my blouse down my shoulders and indicated what he wanted me to do. My blood froze as I realize that I am to be an active participant in my defilement. I shrugged my shoulders, allowing the red silk blouse to slide down to my wrists. From there, the odious guard pulled it away from me. It fluttered to the floor where another hulking guard quickly policed it up.

The sight of my lacy black brassiere elicited surprised gasps and catcalls. I flushed scarlet and hoped to pass away on the spot. Aside from doctors, I had not been naked, as an adult, in the presence of any man other than Mark in my entire life. Now I was about to be exposed to a gallery of lecherous witnesses, male and female, old, young, and every variety in between, many of them scantily or fetish dressed. The leering guard turned to the fat man on the throne, who indicated he was to continue. He studied my unfamiliar clothing before his hands went to the buckle of the decorative belt in my skirt. After a moment's contemplation, he opened it.

He seemed puzzled that my skirt did not immediately loosen.

He strode around me and noted the button and zipper in the back. I felt his massive hand on my rump. With surprising dexterity and gentleness, he opened the button and tugged down the zipper. My black A-line skirt sagged about my hips. The massive guard tugged it down. Already wishing I was dead, the revelation that I was wearing stockings with garters, made me wish that the earth would open and swallow me. No one was supposed to know that I was wearing such sexy underwear, except of course, for Mark. This day, at least the day it was before we were transported here, was the anniversary of our first date. Mark, who never failed to recall my birthday and our wedding anniversary was regularly oblivious to the day of our first date. Annually, I made it a point to seduce my husband to remind him of that magical moment when our lives first came together. Sometimes I find myself thinking that he "forgets" on purpose, but his pleasantly stunned reaction every time when I get down and dirty, convinces me of his innocence. There were cheers from the assembled crowd when my skirt hit the floor and I was compelled to step out of it.

"Enchanting!" stated the emperor as he stroked himself through his toga. Mark's eyes widened with wonder then realization.

My heels were removed next, making the guard stripping me all that much larger and intimidating. He paced around me, his eyes hungrily devouring my exposed flesh before I felt his hands on the clasp of my brassiere. It became immediately apparent that bras were unknown in this universe. After a moment of intense struggle, he had it figured out and I felt it separate in back. The guard tugged it forward and with a vigorous flick of his wrist, pulled it away from my body. I knew instinctively, that hiding myself was verboten. I stood with my arms at my side, head down, as the crowd in the throne room drank in my D cups!

"Delightful!" purred the emperor.

After the room stopped buzzing, the hulking guard set to work on my black sheer stockings. Unlike the one on my bra, the clasps on my garters presented him with no problems whatsoever. He carefully rolled my right stocking down my leg until I was compelled to raise my foot, so he could pull it away from me. My left stocking immediately followed. Mark loves my legs; he claims they are my best feature. Most men, like Mark's unsubtle brother, focus on my tits or my butt. Other women also note my long brown hair. I could tell, all too well, that the horny despot on the throne liked what he saw as well. I was down to the matching black garter belt and wispy panties. The huge bruiser simply tugged down the garter belt. I stepped out of it. A moment later, I felt his calloused hands upon the beltline of my panties, with a vigorous tug, my neatly trimmed kitty was on public display. There were cheers and a round of applause. The last of my clothing was scooped up by the second guard. I flushed scarlet over my entire body.

I was instructed to perform a slow pirouette, so the tyrant and the obnoxious peanut gallery could assess me from all angles. This was without a doubt the single most degrading moment of my twenty-six years. I returned to facing the tyrant, fighting back tears. His moon face wore a grin I wanted to punch off his ugly face with a much force as I could muster. But, of course, I could not.

"You are not done yet, beautiful," he stated.

I looked at him perplexedly.

"Your Jewelry, fair one."

I performed a mental inventory. I had gold butterflies and studs in my ear lobes. The butterflies were a gift from Mark. This was supposed to be a very different day, a very special day. I realized I would have to cede my silver cross. It had not left my neck since I was sixteen years old and first saved. It was not only the symbol of my faith, but I also thought of it as my protection from the evils of the world. Where was my redeemer now, when Mark and I needed him the most?

The hulking creep set to work on my earrings. A moment later he handed them to his confederate. My cross followed immediately. I realized that I was just down to my ... He held out his hand. I would have to remove my wedding and engagement rings myself. My tears really began to flow as I twisted off my rings and placed them in the goon's upturned palm. They had not been off my finger, aside from jewelry store cleanings, since Mark had slid them on five years ago. They represented so much to me, the bond between myself Mark and God, an ever-present symbol of our eternal love, my dreams of the future, my hopes and aspirations, now they were just another ogre's trophy.

At a signal from the tyrant, the hulk pressing the intimidating and vaguely scimitar-shaped blade against my already naked husband's throat relaxed a bit causing the fat guy on the throne to announce. "You see, lovely one, when you cooperate, everyone wins."

I think I can be forgiven for not feeling exactly in a winning mood at that moment. The tyrant seemed inordinately pleased with himself as he followed, "Here is how this works. If you, female barbarian would like to see that the man you arrived with, the one you described as your "husband," is treated compassionately and decently, and not subjected to deprivation and torture, you will obey every order and request given to you immediately, graciously, and without complaint. If you, male barbarian reprobate, want to ensure that the female, whom you claim as your "wife" is treated with patience, compassion, and tenderness, you will obey every order and request made of you." He paused for effect. "If you cooperate, I will see that, upon such occasions as I see fit, you will be permitted to spend time with each other. When I am feeling especially generous, the two of you might even spend some of that time alone."

I looked at Mark. He looked at me. A faint hope was better than none. "Of course, if you choose to rebel..." He pointed to the various heads of men, women, and children on pikes that ringed the throne room. "The most recalcitrant one will witness the execution of the other. Before decapitation, the survivor will endure torture in the extreme before your own messy death. Do I make myself clear?"

I nodded. Mark nodded.

"Excellent!" he leered at me some more and announced, "Come here, pretty one and kiss me like I am the most attractive man in the universe, which, of course, I am."

The gorge rose in my throat. The blade was again pressed to Mark's throat. What other option did I have? I strode across the cold marble floor in my bare feet until I was at the foot of the throne. The emperor stepped down and opened his arms, I found myself inside them I turned my lips upward and received the most unwanted kiss of my life. I could taste the liquor on his breath as well as his much more pungent halitosis and almost tossed my cookies on the spot. By some miracle, I held it together while the tyrant Frenched my vigorously and ran his hands up and down my back. He fondled my butt and ran his fingers through my silky long hair. It was every bit as gross as you can imagine.

After an entirely nauseating ordeal, he broke the clinch, licked his lips, and announced, "Completely delicious!" He turned towards an aide and announced, "Take the woman away for bathing, collaring, and training. Fit the male with a collar and chastity cage and then send him to suitable physical labor." And just like that, the life I knew came to an end.

A tall, stacked raven-haired woman dressed in tight black leather with a plunging neckline appeared at my right side. Without a word, she took my hand in hers and silently led me out of the throne room.

"What happens now?" I asked weakly.

"Well, beautiful, a bath for starters, a collar, then we get you weighed and measured head to toe. Then we get you fitted out and begin your training."

"Training?"

"Concubine instruction obviously! What do you think happens to beautiful captive women who capture the emperor's eye?"

"I'm not from around here," I returned.

"That would explain your strange attire and your ludicrous tale of being from some, what did you call it?"

"Parallel universe," I supplied.

She seemed to roll the words over in her mind for a moment or two before stating, "I'm sure it's a fascinating story, but we have many tasks to accomplish in a short amount of time. Perhaps you can tell me about it later."

I accepted this comment in silence.

"Not that it matters anymore, for the emperor will give you a new one, but what's your name?"

"Mel... Melanie. Melanie Rogers. What's yours?"

"Odd, but pretty sounding. Well, Melanie, welcome to the sisterhood. You can call me "boss," or if you prefer, "mom." You have to obey me as though your life depends upon it, which in fact, it does!"

"Forgive me for not leaping with joy. That man I was with, my husband, Mark. What's going to happen to him?"

"Husband?"

"We were married."

"Really? What backward region are you from!"

"Isn't that normal?" I inquired.

"Only if you are a raging pervert! Anyway he's a big, strong guy, the emperor doesn't just throw those away. He'll be worked hard, probably end up with a lot more, nice big muscles. Shame about his cock though. That's a real nice one to be locked away. He might get relief every month or so, depending upon where he ends up. You seriously were only with him?"

"He is the only man I have ever slept with, been intimate with."

"Wow! You are going to have to unlearn a lot, girl!"

Our walk ended then in a brightly lit, tiled room. There was a line of sunken bathtubs in the floor and a host of obviously gay male attendants. The bath was nice, considering. They did my finger and toenails in hooker red lacquer. Even though I had been freshly shaved the morning of our transportation to the weird wonderland, they ran a razor over all parts of my anatomy below my collar and trimmed my already neat kitty. I wasn't crazy about the attention but at least it was relaxing. I was less sanguine about what happened next.

My still damp hair was piled atop my head and I was led to a frame clearly designed to hold human beings! I cried out in fear as a huge guy in a hood, the biggest most massive man I had thus far seen, basketball center tall and linebacker muscled, easily picked me up. With one arm, the titan held me fast while his free hand buckled me in place. I was beside myself in fear. The boss slapped me hard across the face and ordered me to get a hold of myself. It did no good, I continued to wail like a banshee until the hooded goon forced a ball gag, just like the one my beloved Mark had worn, into my mouth. My head was clamped in place. I was immobile, capable of only blinking my eyes. My nostrils were assailed by the aroma of burning sulfur and heat. With some device that looked just like an instrument of torture, he applied a chromium, leather-lined collar around my neck. Then, without ceremony, he freed me from the rig and I promptly landed on my shapely butt on the white tiled floor. I tugged at the collar, but it stubbornly remained in place. The boss helped me up and led me over to a full-length mirror. The collar seemed to be all of one piece. It was decorated with gold filigree, which I later learned, was the emperor's monogram. I could find no seam whatsoever. It was clearly designed to make removing it an arduous and probably impossible task. I gawked at myself. I was property now. Something deep within me broke and I had to struggle to regain my breath it was like the collar was strangling me!

"Get over yourself, girl!" barked the boss. I managed to take a deep breath and the world stopped spinning. I had to hold on for Mark's sake, for my own sake. No matter what my future had in store for me I had to face it bravely and without complaint. A sudden chill hit me. The way I had just been acting might label me as "rebellious" and cause repercussions for me! Repercussions for Mark! Fear for my beloved was the trigger I needed to calm down and face what I had to.

"I'm sorry, boss," I stated at last.

She looked at me compassionately. It was clear from her body language and facial expressions that she had been down this same road many times with other girls just like me. She saw that the very idea of the collar I now wore was new to me and took some time to explain things. She said that my collar had rendered me infertile and had also stopped my periods. "You are state property now and can only breed with permission. It also means that you will ALWAYS be available to the emperor. IF he decides to breed you, which is his right as your master, a command will be issued to your collar and you will begin menstruating again. The Empire simply cannot have slaves breeding willy-nilly, now can we?" I nodded dumbly at that. I felt a tiny bit better about things, realizing that, if the collar performed as the boss stated, I could not get knocked up by the emperor or anybody else. At least I would not be compelled to bear a bastard, at least not right now...