Chapter 1

"You look a bit out of place," said the cat.

"Yes, I suppose I do." The man was wearing a conservative grey suit, black wingtips, and a powder blue shirt. His only concession to the occasion was a tie that was a bit loud. The cat was wearing what appeared to be an opaque body stocking. A plush tail dangled to the floor. She didn't wear a mask, but had on a headband to which were attached two triangular cat ears. She had whiskers painted on her face and her eyes were made up to be more elongated and catlike. "I'm here on business," the man told her.

"And what business do you have at a Halloween party?"

"I'm selling cupcakes."

"You haven't by any chance noticed all the free food laying around, have you? I like cupcakes, but you're not likely to sell any here."

"Oh, but these are special. They're exploding cupcakes."

"I see. This is a concept costume."

"Yes. Would you care for one? It's quite an experience."

"Sure, why not."

"Come with me." The man led the cat out onto the porch and sat her down. He sat down next to her and opened the attache case he carried.

"They're only a quarter," the cat was informed. "How would you like to pay for it--cash, check, or charge?

"I don't have a quarter on me," she said. It was true. There was no place in her costume to hide a quarter. "How about charge."

"Certainly," The man pulled some papers out of his case. "Just sign these and I'll prepare your cupcake." He handed her two sheets of paper. One was labeled 'Informed Consent and Waiver' and the other was labeled 'Finance Agreement'. Both were covered with fine print and had an 'X' at the bottom for a signature.

"This says one hundred percent interest," the cat objected.

"Hey, it's a quarter. So tomorrow you pay fifty cents." The cat was somewhat taken aback by the paperwork, but she was intrigued, so she decided to play along. She signed the papers and handed them to the man. He handed them back. "Date them, please." She did so and handed them back again.

"Catherine Lund. Is that your name?"

"Yes, but everyone just calls me Cat."

"Hence the costume."

"It's not very original, I'm afraid."

"Perhaps not, but you get extra points for cute. Regardless, signing your real name wasn't the best idea you've had all evening."

"So what is the best idea I've had all evening?"

"You haven't had it yet." He pulled out a paper plate, unwrapped a chocolate cream filled cupcake, and placed it on the plate. Stuffing a firecracker into the side of the cupcake, he lit the fuse, and handed the plate to Cat.

Cat reluctantly accepted the plate. "But..." BANG! Cat screamed, dropped the plate, and leapt to her feet. The plate landed on the floor, the circle of icing that had previously topped the cupcake lay on the plate where the cupcake had been.

What the salesman knew that Cat didn't was that explosions are radial in direction. He had carefully handed the plate to Cat with the end of the firecracker pointing toward himself, while the side was turned toward Cat. As a result, the salesman was relatively unscathed. Cat, on the other hand, had half the cupcake and filling spread across her chest, the other half of the cake having fled in the opposite direction.

"Oh, dear," he sympathized. "My cupcake seems to have spread itself all over your cupcakes. Let me help you." He grabbed her tail, dipped the end of it in his drink, and began dabbing at her chest.

Cat wasn't drunk, but she had had a couple of drinks and was probably a bit more tolerant than usual. Besides, the utter audacity of it all left her momentarily speechless. Nonetheless, having a total stranger chasing her nipples around her chest with her tail was a bit much, not to mention the mess he'd made of her costume.

"Can I borrow your drink?" she asked.

The man handed it to her and continued dabbing at her chest. Cat splashed the drink over as much of the guy's suit as she could, then handed him the glass.

"Asshole," she declared and stomped off to the bathroom and cleaned herself up as best she could. When she returned, the cupcake salesman was nowhere to be seen. Cat hung around the party another hour or so, but it was pretty dull and she finally went home.

Cat wasn't even sure why she'd gone to the party. She had been surprised when her sister, Mindy, had invited her. Cat had recently broken up with her own boyfriend, and she suspected Mindy was hoping to cheer her up with the invitation. Mindy had always criticized Cat's taste in men. As if hers was any better. Her husband, Fred, was a total jerk and he was an even bigger jerk when he was drunk, which he always was at parties. Cat had reluctantly agreed to go. Perhaps she would meet someone there, although the chances were slim considering Mindy's own taste in men. However, she didn't have anything else to do. Regrettably, it had been a waste. The only interesting person had been the cupcake salesman, and Cat had poured a drink all over him. Not that she didn't feel justified, but the exploding cupcake had been the highlight of her evening. That wasn't saying much, but then it was unusual for one of Mindy's parties to have a highlight of any sort.

About a week later, Cat was checking her mail, which included an envelope from the Institute for Rapidly Expanding Pastry. She had nearly thrown it out with the junk mail, but the return address had caught her eye. Inside, she found an invoice for one exploding cupcake. The invoice amount was $32, including penalties and interest. Included with the invoice was a copy of the contract she had signed. Cat read the document carefully. Apparently, she had agreed to finance her twenty-five cent cupcake at one hundred percent interest per day, compounded daily. In the intervening week, her 'debt' had ballooned to $32. She had further agreed that should payment not be forthcoming, she would submit herself to a period of servitude to the Institute until her obligation was paid.

Cat threw the stuff in the trash. The cupcake thing at the party had been sort of cute, but this 'invoice' was tasteless and offensive. She was, however, concerned that it had been delivered to her house. She hadn't given her address to the guy at the party and it wasn't listed in the phone book. Maybe he'd gotten it from Mindy. It sounded like the sort of thing one of Mindy's creepy friends would do. She decided to call her sister.

"Mindy, did you give my address to that cupcake salesman guy?"

"What cupcake salesman guy?"

"You know, the exploding cupcake salesman at your Halloween party."

"Cat, I don't know what you're talking about."

"There was a guy at your party who sold me an exploding cupcake. He wore a suit and looked like he wasn't wearing a costume, but he was."

"I remember seeing you talking to a guy in a suit. I figured he was one of your friends, since he wasn't wearing a costume, but I don't know anything about exploding cupcakes."

Cat told Mindy about the cupcake incident.

"So that's what that stuff on the front porch was all about. I wondered what that stuff was that was splattered all over. But to answer your question, I have no idea who he was. The only time I remember seeing him was when I saw him talking to you. I can't remember seeing him before or after that."

"You mean this guy showed up, sold me a cupcake and left? That doesn't make any sense. Why would he do that?"

"I don't know. He may have been there longer, I just don't remember seeing him."

"He may have been there before, but he wasn't there after. I went looking for him a few minutes after I'd doused him, and he was gone. I assumed he'd left to change clothes."

"Maybe so. I didn't talk to him and don't know who he was. You know, you're really never going to get anywhere if you keep running men off like that."

"They're all such jerks. You should have seen the mess he made of my costume... Mindy, let's not go over this again. You'll tell me I need to hang out with a better class of guys and then I'll tell you what a jerk Fred is and we'll have a big fight."

"You're right. Anyway, I don't know who the guy was. Sorry I can't help."

"Thanks anyway."

Cat couldn't remember when it hadn't been like this. Mindy was five years older, and was always trying to run her life; especially when it came to men. Cat was of the opinion that Mindy was utterly incapable of perceiving the beam in her own eye. It was hard to believe she didn't notice Fred's behavior. He was always trying to grope Cat and she spent most of her time at parties and family gatherings trying to avoid him. Despite her efforts, Fred would manage to pat her on the ass or kiss her in greeting or parting. He also had an annoying habit of draping his arm over Cat's shoulders so that his dangling fingers brushed her nipples. He managed to make it all look very innocent and familial, but Cat wasn't fooled. Cat's complaints about Fred always made Mindy angry.

Thinking about Fred brought something else to the surface. She'd been aware of it in the back of her mind, but it hadn't quite registered. Fred had kept his distance at Mindy's party, and although Cat didn't get close enough to be certain, he seemed to have been sober.

After a couple of days, Cat had forgotten the whole thing. She was, therefore, rather surprised when some ten days later she received another invoice. This one was rather shrill in it's demand for payment. The invoice amount was now $65,536. Cat angrily threw the new invoice in the trash.

The next day when she got home from work, there was a cupcake on a white paper plate sitting on her kitchen table. As she picked it up to throw it in the trash, it started hissing and a white smoke began billowing from the cupcake. Cat dropped it and ran. The back door was only a few steps away. She managed to get outside and slammed the door behind her, then collapsed to lie coughing and choking on the deck. After a few minutes, the outside air seemed to clear away the small amount of gas she had inhaled. She rested a few minutes more, then looked in through the back door window. The kitchen was filled with the white gas and she could hardly see the stove and refrigerator on the opposite wall. She sat down again on the deck to consider her situation. At the moment her house was full of poison gas. Apparently, this institute or whatever it was, was serious about collecting money from her. It was absurd, of course. She didn't owe them anything, certainly not $65,000. Nevertheless, they seemed intent on harassing her. The cupcake left no doubt as to the culprits. Were they trying to kill her or just frighten her? They had certainly succeeded in the latter. Should she call the police? That was probably the sensible thing to do, but she hesitated. She just didn't want the bomb squad or haz mat people or whomever rummaging through her house. Although Cat rarely used drugs, she did have small amounts of marijuana and cocaine in the house, and there were other things that, while not illegal, would be embarrassing if found.

Cat walked over to the back door, held her breath and pushed it open. She stepped quickly away and walked around the house to the front door. She pushed it open as well, then went to sit in her car until the house was aired out.

It was dark when Cat awoke. She looked at her watch. It was past midnight. She had fallen asleep in her car, perhaps due to lingering effects of the gas.

Cat got out and walked to the front door. Holding her breath again, she reached inside and flipped on the light. The air appeared to be clear. She stood in the doorway and drew a very shallow breath. There were no apparent ill effects. She drew a deeper breath. Still no problem. She held her breath again and walked to the kitchen, flipping on the light. The air looked clear. She drew another shallow breath. Okay so far. She turned on the range hood, just to make sure. Cat found she could breath normally. She closed the doors. It was November and the furnace had not been able to keep up with the open doors. Hence, it was chilly in the house.

Cat went to her bedroom and put on a sweater, then returned to the kitchen. She was hungry. As she opened the refrigerator, she heard the hissing even before she saw the cupcake. This time, she didn't make it to the back door.

Cat awoke and looked around groggily. She was in a hospital bed. Hospital? She tried to sit up but was unable. She was strapped down.

"Where am I? What's going on?" Cat called.

A woman in a nurse's uniform walked into her field of vision. Cat noticed she was wearing a rather odd necklace. Actually, it was a choker rather than a necklace. It consisted of a series of rather clunky looking silvery ovals, each joined to the next at top and bottom by fine gold chain. A red jewel adorned the center oval. The choker clasped itself tightly around her neck.

"Good, you're awake. We were worried about you."

"What happened? Why am I here?"

"You apparently inhaled some toxic fumes, but you're going to be okay."

"Why am I tied down?"

"When the anesthetic wears off, your incisions will itch and burn. We don't want you disturbing them until they've healed a bit. They heal fast. We should be able to let you up by this time tomorrow."

"Incisions? What incisions?"

"Tomorrow, dear. Now try to get some rest." The nurse walked away.

"Hey," Cat yelled. "Come back here."

The nurse returned. She picked up a syringe from a tray next to the bed and stuck the needle in Cat's arm.

"This will help you relax. We'll talk tomorrow."

Cat awoke again. This time she was less groggy than on her previous awakening. She looked around. There was no clock and the room had no windows. She had no idea how long she'd been asleep. She tried to figure out what was going on. She was still strapped down and had apparently had an operation. What sort of poison gas required an operation? And what kind of operation? Her thoughts were interrupted by the return of the nurse.

"You're with us again, I see. I'm going to unstrap you now, but don't try to get up just yet." The nurse unbuckled the straps holding Cat down and pushed a button which raised the bed to a sitting position.

"Tell me what's happened. Why did I have an operation?"

"The doctor will be in in a minute. He'll explain everything. In the meantime, just relax."

"Relax! I'm sick of relaxing. That's all I've done for the past... how long have I been here, anyway?"

"You've been here five days."

"Five days? I just got here yesterday. How can it be five days?"

"The doctor will explain."

"He'd better. Somebody better explain something." Cat pulled the covers aside and leaned forward.

"Please don't get up, dear. I don't want to have to strap you down again. Just wait for the doctor."

"Alright."

Cat lay back against the bed and the nurse departed. The movement caused her neck to chafe. Running her hands over her throat, she realized she was wearing a choker similar to the one the nurse had on. She was trying to get it off to examine it more closely when a man in a white coat entered the room.

"And how are you feeling today, Cat."

"Perplexed, and a bit angry. Otherwise I feel fine. What is this place, anyway? There's something weird about it. It doesn't seem like a normal hospital."

"I'm glad to see the gas didn't affect your mind. That can happen sometimes. You're right, of course. This is not a regular hospital..."

"So where am I? What's going on?" Cat blurted.

"Listen and I'll tell you. Listen very carefully. You're at the Institute. You are now a servant of the Institute..."

"Institute? You mean the Institute for Exploding Cupcakes or whatever you call it?"

"The Institute for Rapidly Expanding Pastry, yes."

"And what exactly do you mean by servant?"

"Just that. You failed to pay your debt, so now you're going to work it off. You will do whatever we tell you until your indenture is paid off."

"You people are nuts. I don't owe you anything and if you think you can make me your slave or something..."

"But, Cat, we can and we have. As I said, you will do whatever we require."

"How do you come to that conclusion?"

"Because we can do this." He pushed a button on what appeared to be a remote control.

Cat couldn't believe the pain. She was being roasted alive, every square inch of her body on fire. Red hot pokers were being pushed into her eyes and ears and every other orifice she possessed. Her nipples were being crushed in the jaws of a red hot vise and every breath filled her lungs with flaming gases.

Then it stopped. The pain was gone completely. Cat felt perfectly normal. All that remained of the pain was the memory, but the memory was horrible. Cat knew she would do whatever they wanted if only they wouldn't do that again.

"Now do you understand?" he asked her.

"Yes, I understand."

"Good. Your indenture is currently about $131,000..."

"$131,000!"

"Plus some change. Now be quiet and listen. No more interest will accrue as long as you're a servant in good standing. Over time, you will work off your indenture. Tomorrow you'll be going home. You will return to your normal life with the exception that you will be on call. From time to time we will contact you with an assignment. You will be told where to go, when to be there, and what special instructions apply. After you've completed the assignment, you will be compensated. Your indenture will be reduced by the amount of compensation."

"What do these 'assignments' consist of? How often will I get them? What if I can't make it to one?"

"The assignments will consist of serving our customers. You will do whatever they require. Assignments will occur intermittently. If you're popular with the customers, they will occur more frequently. Should you fail to appear as required, double the amount of compensation will be added to your indenture. Additionally, you will be punished. Should you make a habit of missing assignments, you will be taken into custody and the cost of your room and board would be added to your indenture. When not on assignment, you would be locked in your cell. We would prefer you live at home and pay for your own upkeep."

"These services are about sex, aren't they. You're going to make me a prostitute."

"Precisely. And you'd better be a good one. Customer complaints are dealt with very harshly."

"This is crazy. You know I don't owe you people anything. How can you do this to me?"

"It doesn't matter how. What matters is that we have. The sooner you surrender to this reality, the better off you'll be."

"You mean the better off you'll be."

"As you wish. Just keep in mind what things will be like if we don't think we're better off."

"So now what?"

"So now you get some rest and tomorrow you go home."

The doctor had mentioned one other curious item. He had said that her indenture would be reduced by fifty percent if she recruited a new servant. Cat wondered what was involved in recruiting a new servant. Besides, who could she get? She thought of Mindy. In some ways, it would serve Mindy right. But she couldn't do it. She wouldn't wish this on anyone. Cat lay back in the bed and cried herself to sleep.

Some indeterminate time later Cat awoke. She went into the bathroom and examined herself in the mirror. Her incisions had nearly healed, but she was able to locate five of them. There was one on either side at the base of her neck, one under each breast, and one in her groin area. She was assumed they had installed some sort of implants that made it possible for them to do what they had done to her.

She examined her collar. It was chafing her neck again. It might be pretending to be a choker necklace, but she knew it for what it was. It was the device they were using to control her. She examined it with her fingers. Two of the ovals joined directly together in the back with no intervening chain. This must be where it opened. She could feel a small protrusion where they came together. She flipped it with her fingernail and the ovals separated. The pain struck instantly and overwhelmed her. It went on and on and Cat prayed she would pass out, but didn't. After about five years, it ceased. The doctor was standing over her, having just fastened the collar back in place.

"You were right," he told her. "The collar is the control device, but it works the opposite from what you think. When it's not receiving other instructions, the collar tells the implants not to cause the pain. If they don't receive the signal from the collar, they switch the pain on. The collar only has a range of about two feet, so even if you got it off somehow, the pain would be turned on as soon as it was out of range. Your collar is your friend. Keep it on."

"You mean if it was accidentally damaged or something..."

"Exactly. The pain would continue until the collar was repaired and put back in operation."