The Collection

Madeline Rogers paused as she entered the long hall. For long moments, her eyes happily roamed the rows of her collection. In the soft light, metal gleamed, seeming almost to quiver with suppressed movement, as if waiting only a signal to burst into life.

Ancient armor was a passion for Madeline, second only to her all-consuming passion for acquiring wealth, power and influence. Thus far, she had an even dozen sets of armor from all over Europe, and from all periods of history. Rare enough, but each suit was made for a female body, which was vastly rarer. These were spaced evenly down the hall, six on each side. A thirteenth spot, centered in the wall at the far end of the hall, held the only set of armor that wasn’t an antique.

Madeline smiled as she gazed down the hall toward this thirteenth set. This set was a reproduction of medieval British armor, made especially for her. A talented artist, female, had taken every conceivable measurement of her, and then the suit was crafted to her exact measurements. Made from a light, highly malleable alloy, the suit faithfully mirrored every curve of her body, while the face was an exact match. It was easily Madeline’s favorite, even though it wasn’t really an antique. And the fact that it had been ordered by the former owner of a company she’d recently taken over made it even better.

For a moment, Madeline wondered about the silence of the large house. Distrustful of men, she employed an all female security force. Usually, she could hear at least one of them moving around the house, making rounds, but today the house was completely still. Madeline shrugged off the momentary unease at the silence, moving to examine the nearest suit of armor.

Two weeks ago, one of the suits had fallen over. Enraged, Madeline had hired a specialist to make sure it didn’t happen again. Each suit now had every joint locked in place, making it impossible to move. Now, Madeline grasped one of the suit’s arms, trying to wiggle it, but was unable to move it even a little. Satisfied, she smiled, her eyes moving up over the polished metal, then she froze.

From within the helmet, a pair of blue eyes looked back at her. Stunned, doubting her own eyes, Madeline leaned closer. The eyes within the helmet blinked, staring at her with a look of desperation. To make matters worse, she recognized those eyes. She’d seen them many times, gazing at her from the other side of her own bed. It was Lydia, her head of security

Struck by a sudden thought, Madeline moved to the next suit. A pair of brown eyes gazed at her from inside this helmet. The next possessed another pair of blue eyes, the next green. A quick check revealed that all 12 suits were now occupied. For a moment, Madeline paused in thought. She employed ten security people, so who were the other two? Shaking her head, she went in search of help to free the women from their steel prisons.

A rapid search of the house showed that everyone was gone. Not only the staff, but also her secretary and personal assistant. Which, for her, solved the mystery of the final two set of eyes. It also left her with nobody to help her. Frustrated, she returned to the first suit, determined to release Lydia.

For several moments, she fought the unyielding steel, trying in vain to open up the suit. Then she saw Lydia’s eyes widen, seeming to look beyond her shoulder. Even as she began to turn, a cloth was pressed over her face. Madeline gasped, smelling a strange odor. Her world spun, then went black.

Madeline opened her eyes for find herself standing immobile at the end of her hall. Glancing down, she saw that she now wore the customized suit of armor. Only the helmet was missing.

“What’s going on here,” she demanded, not really expecting an answer. To her surprise, she received one.

“Nice of you to ask,” came a voice from beside her. Turning her head, she watched as a man stepped out of the shadow and moved to stand before her. It was Stan, the former company owner, the man who’d ordered this suit.

“Stan,” she demanded, “what exactly do you think you’re doing? Let me out of here right now!”

Stan smiled. “I’m sorry,” he replied, “but that’s not exactly possible. You see, the suit has been cold welded together, like the other suits. It would have to be cut off, and as close as the metal follows your shape, that would mean cutting you at the same time. Not something I think you would want.”

As Stan spoke, Madeline suddenly realized that she was naked within the suit, the metal cool against her bare skin. At the same time, the hint of a draft at her crotch told her that at least one other piece of the armor had yet to be fitted. Glaring, she turned her attention back to Stan.

“What is the meaning of this,” she demanded.

“I loved my company,” Stan said in reply. “It might not have been much, compared to your empire, but it was mine. And it was a good company, an honest one, until you used your influence to force me out of business.”

“Oh, yes,” he continued, smiling at the surprised look on Madeline’s face, “I found out about how you manipulated people to get my licenses revoked. Then, once I was broke, you could buy me out for next to nothing. And you thought I’d accept being manager of the business I used to own. You may have ruined me, but by leaving me in place, you gave me the tools I needed to accomplish your own ruin. Not by myself, of course. I did have some help.”

Stepping back, Stan clapped his hands sharply. At this signal, doors along the hall opened and a number of other men stepped out between the ranged suits of armor. Madeline’s eyes widened. Each of these was someone she’d forced out of business so she could buy their holdings. Now seven men stood watching her as she struggled helplessly within the unyielding suit.

“I swear,” she yelled, “you will all pay for this. I will get out of here, and then I mmmmmmmpppppph!”

As she yelled her defiance, one of the men reached up and shoved a penis gag between her lips, quickly pulling the straps around her head and buckling them tightly. For a moment, muffled sounds that were somehow still recognizable as curses leaked from behind the gag, and then Madeline fell silent, glaring in helpless anger.

“You like collections,” one of the other men said. “You collected our businesses by forcing us to sell. Then you tried to collect us by leaving us as puppets in our own places, answerable to you. Are you so surprised that we would decide to do something about you?”

As the man spoke, a third man stepped forward. Suddenly, Madeline stiffened as she felt something press against the lips of her pussy. Slowly, almost gently, the intruder was pressed into her; until she felt as filled as she could ever remember feeling. As the man removed his hand, she bore down, feeling the intruder begin to slip out, only to be pushed back in. The feel of metal against the sensitive skin of her crotch told her the final piece was being put into place. There was a strange, almost acrid smell, and then the men all stepped back. Experimentally, Madeline pushed against the intruder, but it remained securely in place, telling her the final plate had also been cold welded to the rest of the suit.

“You like collections,” Stan said, “and you love this collection most of all. So we decided to make you a part of it. The girl who measured you works for me. So do the people who modified the other suits to make them immobile. Actually, the maid who originally caused that one suit to collapse, the one you fired and blacklisted, now works for me as well. So you see, your own greed, your own ego, gave us everything we needed to set this up, and to see it accomplished.”

Stan nodded, and one of the other men took up the helmet, lowering it over her head. Again, the acrid smell, and now she couldn’t turn her head. Stan stepped forward with the face plate. Madeline fought desperately, but, unable to move even the slightest bit, there was no way she could prevent him from sealing the face plate into position. Through the eye holes, she watched as the seven men stepped back to examine her in her new steel prison.

“Oh,” Stan said, as if just remembering, “I wouldn’t worry about your staff, either. They all quit rather suddenly today. Their letters of resignation are all on the desk in your study, citing your own behavior as the reason for leaving.” Stan smiled. “I guess even your money wasn’t enough to convince them to continue tolerating your mistreatment.”

Slowly, the men turned away. “I’m sure,” Stan tossed back over his shoulder, “that someone will eventually come in here to find out what happened to you, why you vanished. And once you’re declared legally missing, your corporation will be forced into receivership. Your number two has already agreed to sell each of us back our old business, at a very reasonable price. So I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse us. We have business to regain, and work to do. Enjoy your day.”

The front door closed with a thud. Trapped in her steel prison, Madeline could only gaze out at the double row of armored figures before her. Her retainers, she thought bitterly, suited and standing at attention before their queen. A silent tear slipped from one eye, a muffled moan sounded, and then all was silent.

06.08.11