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Chapter 3 by Swigggity swoot Swigggity swoot

What comes next?

A Cheerleader's Recollections

Gloria Abernathy sat quietly in the law office's waiting room. She wore a dark pair of sunglasses, a sun hat, and a buttoned and belted trench coat. She sat with her legs crossed, the hem of the coat gave way to reveal a small portion of her white boots. Gloria noticed the receptionist casually glance at the boots.

Despite weeks of disappointment, Gloria still held out hope that the woman behind the desk would take note of those damned boots. If only her body would allow her to remove the blasted trench coat.

Underneath was a woman in her late 40's with grey streaked black hair. Gloria was quite fit. Her jogging and minor workouts through the years, to say nothing of her recent "physical fitness regime," had provided her with a toned body. Beneath the trench coat a viewer would be alarmed to find her dressed in an unusual manner. Gloria's body was covered in a strange shimmering material. Almost every inch of her body. Her arms, hands, legs and torso completely enshrouded. The only exceptions being her head and cleavage. Over that was something even more out of the ordinary. . . A cheerleading uniform. It resembled some bargain basement Dallas Cowboys cheerleading costume. A blue tank top with a white star on the chest, A white vest, white shorts and these ridiculous go-go boots.

If someone could see how she was dressed, they would know for sure that she was one of the "Cheerleading Hostages" that had been taken at the Drake Industries expo. The technology they revealed allowed for a computer to take control of a person wearing something called Sense-Sheath. It was the very fabric Gloria wore at this moment. This control was absolute with no resistance allowed to the wearer. The tasks that could be accomplished were incredible, laser accurate movements for the finest of operations could be completed at only a fraction of the cost and by anyone at all. Large scale synchronization allowed for massive shows to be put on without a single flaw. Drake Industry's P.R. team came up with an incredible way to show off their new invention. Using just the right amount of sex appeal to pique the public's interest. They found four volunteers at a local mall to act as demonstrators of Sense-Sheath. Gloria thought of that day bitterly. She was a retired teacher out shopping when she was approached by the business man. Complimenting her fitness and attractiveness even into a more advancing age. Flattery had gotten the best of her. The bolstered ego pushed her to accept their proposal. She and three others went to the company's venue for an expo. Putting aside her better judgement, Gloria dressed in the Sense-Sheath and cheerleading uniform just like the other three. At first, it was an exercise in wonder. They performed cheer and dance routines of startling skill and difficulty. The computer guided every movement along the way, they just sat back for the ride in their own bodies. Gloria had been uncomfortable with the total lack on control, but had pushed that concern aside. She would find those concerns to be well founded.

A mysterious hacker seized control over Gloria and the rest of the cheerleaders. **** to hold the crowd hostage, they were made to dress the wife and daughter of the founder of Drake Industries in the same prison they were all trapped in. Following their captor's every order, issued through a stuffed armadillo with cameras for eyes and a speaker in its mouth. The founder was **** to retrieve a vast amount of money in exchange for his family. They were then made to lock the crowd away and made their way to their "master's" warehouse hideaway.

The news buzzed with recounts of that day. The hostage cheerleaders and the crimes they were **** to commit was the headline of every news paper and the first story to air on every news channel. Pleas from their families, to be released rang out. But, despite this media circus and mass mobilization of law enforcement. The women were nowhere to be found and their captor even better hidden.

While the media pondered the missing cheerleaders and where they might have been taken, Gloria and the others knew all to well the answers to those questions. They had been put to work. The hacker never showed his face, issuing commands through the armadillo. He used his computer control over their Sense-Sheath uniforms to **** them into servitude. Dismantling his lab equipment with skill and incredible strength. They packed it all into four box trucks. The only reprieve from their work consisted of enforced cheerleading and dance sessions. It never ceased to amuse him by putting his new slaves through their paces. He said it would keep them fit and sexy. Four hour sleep breaks were given to them, where they marched into a room with thin cots and mattresses. They would drift off briefly before being awoken by their bodies once again rising to continue their day of work and dance.

They dealt with things in their own ways. Some would occasionally sob. Others took to silently working as tears dripped down their faces. Gloria stewed in anger, seeking any opportunity to escape. Nothing would ever come of it. If a girl spoke out of turn or to often she would be **** to don a ball gag. Gloria had been subjected to this the most. The one bright spot being they had not yet been **** to do anything extraordinarily sexual. The armadillo's voice would chuckle and joke about how their naughty bits weren't accessible to him due to the Sense-Sheath covering almost everything below the neck.

After a few weeks the girls were gathered by their loaded trucks and **** to put on sunglasses that allowed no visibility to the wearer. Effectively blind, the women felt their bodies climb into the trucks and drive off. When they arrived, they were assured the blindness would allow them to be released when the time came. It was a terrifying experience. To have no control over your body as it drives a heavy truck to who knows where and you can't see anything around you. The computer's control never faltered, guiding their hands to the trucks wheel and working the pedals without issue.

After hours of travel, they arrived at a secluded mansion. They gathered in front of the gate to the mansion and a voice crackled from the armadillo. "Welcome to my home ladies. Time for you gals to set things up." And to work they went. Limbs controlled by their cheerleader uniforms, they assembled all of the equipment. Exhausted and **** for reprieve, they were met with disappointment. As the reward for their work was more dance and cheerleading, it grew more sensual with time. Light touches and caresses across seemingly innocent parts of their bodies. But it only foreshadowed what was to come.

After a few days of merciful rest, Gloria's body walked her into the library. Seated in a large love seat was the armadillo. "Howdy Gloria. I have a job for you. I've registered this house in the name of a Ms. Pettygrew. I need you to go to town and sign the necessary documents and return the copies to me." Gloria's booted feet carried her to a table beside the loveseat and she picked up an I.D. for Ms.Pettygrew with her picture. **** into her trench coat get-up she stood before the armadillo once again. "And in case you consider making an escape attempt, consider your fellow cheerleaders. They will be punished should you act out." Gloria stewed in anger, it was all to much. Here she was, a smart dynamic woman almost past her prime, dressed as frivolous sex toy, made to be the errand girl of a man speaking though a stuffed animal! Resignation overcame her and she answered "I'll do it." The armadillo chuckled quietly and continued to speak. "Good girl Gloria, it would be a shame for you to screw things up now when you are so close to being free."

All this lead to right now. Waiting for the documentation to be processed. It was difficult, her body would move in ways that she had to follow along with. Either brushing certain actions aside or providing a fitting comment. She hoped the lawyer would notice but he never did. All he said was "I like your boots." To which Gloria replied with a muffled "Thank you."

Coming back to the mansion, Gloria provided her "master" with the papers by leaving them on the same table where she first acquired her fake I.D. Then She was stripped out of the trench coat, sun hat, and sunglasses. Standing before her "master" she spoke. "I did your little chore" Now pleading with tears welling up in her eyes. "Please, when are you going to let us go?" The armadillo stayed quiet for a moment, then replied in what sounded like an almost empathetic voice "My dear Gloria, soon. Very soon if you all behave. For now, lets celebrate my good fortune." With that, her arms reached out and picked up the armadillo. Her boots spun her around and carried her to the mansion's ball room. Inside was lit with the swirling lights of a dance floor. A slow ballad played over the speakers. She found Mr. Drakes wife and daughter slow dancing with each other. Anne's hands were on her mother's ass once again, occasionally squeezing and lightly fondling. Marcia's left hand was around the back of her daughter's head in what would have seemed like a comforting embrace, were it not for her daughter's face being pressed into her mother's cleavage again. Marcia's other hand would travel along Anne's body, caressing her back and side of her waist, lightly groping her breasts, or brushing against her ass. The other teenager was dancing with the Latina. Each of their left hands were behind the other's head, pressing their foreheads together in an intimate connection. Their other hands resided firmly on the other's ass. Squeezing the inside of each other's cheeks with firm handfuls and slight movements to make the other's flesh jiggle with the only break from that being a light caress up their partner's ass crack and to her lower back. Gloria was joined by the strawberry blonde. Lightly grabbing each others hands and pressing their bodies together with the armadillo in between them. Their right legs pressed forward between each other's legs and their hips began small grinding motions. "Now this is a celebration." Sighed their captor. Content with his show.

What's next?

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