~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 3 Years Later ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Rhea hesitantly took the witness stand. She was not looking forward to having to recount the ordeal she had been through. But she took one look at the man who the police said was responsible for all this, sitting there smugly and even now looking at her like a piece of meat, and she firmed up her resolve. That bastard had to pay.

The state prosecutor had laid out the whole situation in his opening argument. Hearing the full story all together, Rhea had a hard time believing that she had been duped so thoroughly. All of her “dreams” had been real! The defendant, Mr. Paul Carey, had implanted a grain-of-rice-sized device in the base of her and Luissa’s necks that allowed him to turn their consciousnesses on and off like a light.

This man had been knocking them out and transporting them out of their bedrooms, first to that tiny room and then to an underground track below his estate. While he was “training” them, he had used a drug that would make their memories hazy. Then he had been knocking them back out and returning them to their beds. It sounded so impossible, and yet, after the police had come to Rhea’s house and told her they had caught her tormentor, the dreams had stopped cold.

Rhea saw the looks of doubt on the jury members’ faces as the prosecutor described what Mr. Carey had done. She was quite upset that those doubting looks grew stronger as she described the story in detail from her perspective. It did sound crazy that she had pierced and tattooed herself based on what she thought had been dreams. The jury was shown pictures of her pierced nipples and tattooed ass. Did she imagine the male jury members smiling lustfully as they looked at those shots and then back at her?

Then she also had to open her mouth wide to show them the tongue ring she had been forced to get, and she had to demonstrate that the nose ring she wore did indeed pass straight through her septum. The prosecutor had instructed her to keep both rings in until after the trial to gain sympathy from the jury, but now Rhea was feeling like the rings just made her look like a complete idiot.

The prosecutor had also instructed that she wear a fairly short skirt to the trial so that she could easily show the jury the picture of a whip that was tattooed around her upper right thigh, and the picture of a riding spur on her upper left thigh. Of course she also had to lift up her shirt to show the belly ring she had been forced to get, and the word “OBEDIENCE” that was tattooed across her flat stomach. Finally she had to describe in detail the piercings through her clit and pussy lips, since the judge wouldn’t allow a picture of those in his courtroom.

The prosecutor then pulled out a small black box that he said had been confiscated from Mr. Carey’s house. He told the jury that it could send the knock-out signal to the device in Rhea’s neck, which she had kept in for the purpose of this demonstration. Rhea was quite agitated at that point from having to show off all of her humiliating body modifications, and she hadn’t realized that the prosecutor was actually going to demonstrate knocking her out. She started to stand up to object…

…and woke up sitting in the prosecutor’s chair, hearing the prosecutor state for the record that Rhea had clearly been fully unconscious even while she was lifted from the witness stand, carried past the jury box for their inspection, and set down in his chair. And for the record, he continued, she didn’t even move a bit when one of the jurors in the front row had reached out and pinched one of her nipples. Rhea’s face burned when she heard this, but the prosecutor whispered in her ear that the juror incident had only helped prove the case that she was indeed out cold.

Rhea was then called back to the witness stand for cross examination. Burning with embarrassment, she passed in front of the jury members wondering if it was the dirty old man, the fat slob, or the sleazy looking businessman who had groped her.

If she had thought it had been hard to tell the story to the tune of the state prosecutor’s questions, it turned out to be infinitely worse to answer the questions from Mr. Carey’s attorney. He asked her to describe a dream she had the night before, and then to describe the last episode she remembered as a ponygirl slave. She could only give a vague recollection of some abstract dream she remembered from the night before, but she vividly described her last memory of the track, in which she had been blindfolded, fitted with a strap-on dildo, and forced to fuck her fellow pony in the ass.

The attorney kept asking for more and more detail, and reminded her that she was under oath, so she went on to tell of how she was then bent over a bar and fucked in the ass by her fellow pony while she was forced to suck her rider’s cock.

“And what was this rider doing while you were blowing him?” Mr. Carey’s attorney asked.

“He was pulling upwards on a chain connected to my nose ring and pulling downwards on a chain connected to my tongue ring.”

“And how far did you take him in?”

“I always had to take him all the way in, sir.”

“Had he done anything to your nipples?”

“Yes, he attached little bells to them that jingled as I was jerked forward and back.”

“Anything to your other piercings?

“Yes, my labia and clit rings were holding a vibrator against my pussy.”

“And did you have an orgasm during this episode?”

Rhea hesitated and the attorney repeated the question forcefully, to which she had to answer “Yes.”

“Interesting,” the attorney mused, “so you had an orgasm even while all these things were being forced on you that you supposedly didn’t like. All right Ms. Rhea, you can barely remember a real dream from last night, but you can recall every intimate detail of your last ponygirl episode, which happened almost two months ago. Do you have any explanation for how you could have believed that those episodes were real dreams, when they were clearly so different from your actual dreams?”

The attorney let Rhea stammer for a while, then cut her off, asking: “Did you ever go to the police with your supposed ‘dreams’?”

“No, but I..”

“Just a ‘no’ is sufficient please. Was there anything physically preventing you from bringing your accusations to the police?

“No, nothing physical, but if..”

“Again, just yes or ‘no’ is sufficient. Now, please recall the day you got your nipples pierced. Were you tied down when they were pierced?

“No, of course not.”

“Did you drive to the piercing parlor alone, or was someone in the car forcing you to go?”

“I was alone.”

“And did you pay for those piercings yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Was this the case for all your other piercings and your tattoos?

“Yes.”

“Now, Ms. Rhea, please tell us how you are currently employed.”

“I used to be an accountant..”

“Not what you used to do, what you currently do.”

“I am a dancer.”

“What kind of dancer, and who is your employer?”

“I am a stripper at Coyote’s, but my dream… they made me..”

“That’s enough. Do you ever dance for any of the Coyote patrons in private?”

Rhea was aghast that this was coming up, but she was under oath and had to answer truthfully. “Yes.”

“And did you ever let any of those patrons pay you for sex?”

Rhea looked down. She hadn’t had a choice; her dreams would have punished her if she hadn’t accepted every offer of money for sex. She looked at the state attorney, who was supposed to be on her side, but he just looked angry, maybe because she hadn’t told him about the sex. Mr. Carey’s attorney repeated the question twice, and Rhea finally had to mumble: “Yes.”

“So, you have been working as a stripper and as a whore, is that correct?”

Rhea didn’t know how her face could keep burning hotter. “Yes.”

“Now Ms. Rhea, please show us again that tattoo on your stomach.”

The state attorney objected, but Mr. Carey’s attorney said it was critical to demonstrating the character of the witness, and the judge overruled. The old lecher probably just wanted to see her midriff again.

Once Rhea had exposed the word “OBEDIENCE” written in large black letters across her belly, Mr. Carey’s attorney said “Please continue to hold up your shirt and tell us if you have an obedient nature.”

Rhea stammered: “What? But I was forced… I couldn’t.. But..”

“Ms. Rhea, if you refuse to admit this fact, maybe you could demonstrate for us instead. Attention!”

The attorney had said this assertively as a direct command, and Rhea found her body obeying before she could stop herself. She stood tall on her toes, thrust out her chest and ass, and stared straight ahead. Before the state prosecutor could object, Mr. Carey’s attorney ordered her to turn around and called out the command: “Spread!”

Rhea really tried not to do this, but after her years of training, she just couldn’t help it. She spread her legs wide, clasped her arms behind her back, and bent over low, as if she were offering her ass to the jury members. Now she really hated the fact that she was wearing a short skirt. She was showing off more than just the tattoos on her thighs. Her bent position was causing her skirt to ride up and show off the bottom of her ass as well.

The stupid state prosecutor finally objected. However, being an obedient slave caught up in the situation, Rhea held her position while Mr. Carey’s attorney slowly explained the value to the jury of seeing her obedient nature first hand. She waited longer as the judge hemmed and hawed, then finally said “Objection sustained. Ms. Rhea, please cover your buttocks and sit back down.”

After the questioning, Rhea wanted nothing else than to run out of the courtroom. The state prosecutor convinced her that if she left, then it would look like she wasn’t really standing behind her accusations. Paul Carey would be more likely to go free. So she begrudgingly stayed and watched Luissa’s testimony.

The state prosecutor focused on all the painful things that had been inflicted on Luissa. Rhea was surprised to learn that her fellow slave had actually tried writing an S.O.S. note, but that she fell asleep before sending it and was mercilessly punished with the cattle prod. Rhea hadn’t been aware that her fellow pony had been forced to wear heavy weights hung from her nipple rings for weeks following that incident, and was told it was a reminder to be obedient.

Mr. Carey’s attorney pressed Luissa in many of the same ways he had pressed Rhea, and also focused on her supposed effort to ask for help. Why hadn’t she written the note while she was in a public place? Or tell one of her co-workers while on the job? Or just started talking when she happened to be walking past a policeman, which she certainly did at some point in the last three years?

The attorney openly scoffed as she gave the same excuse time after time about being afraid of the punishment, then asked her again and again if she really wanted to stop the episodes. She kept saying that she did, but it was clear that under the withering questions even she was starting to have doubts.

The attorney then asked if she ever had an orgasm while receiving the punishing shocks. Luissa’s fair skin had been turning redder and redder. She was bright red from her forehead down through the plunging neckline of the blouse that showed off the tattoos of scorpions poised to sting her nipples (again on the advice of the state prosecutor).

Luissa hung her head and mumbled: “Yes, I have.”

“How many times?”

“I… I’ve lost count.”

“Did you orgasm often during these supposed punishing shocks?”

“Yes, but I still hated it..”

“Ms. Luissa, are you sure that you really wanted to stop these episodes?”

“I… well, I… “

“That’s all right, we’ll let the jury determine your intentions, please return to your seat.”

Luissa tried to scurry back to her chair, but the attorney moved into her way so she had to turn towards the jury to get around him. As soon as she did, he firmly said: “Upward Dog.”

Without hesitation, the blond bombshell dropped to her stomach then kept her legs and pelvis down as she arched her back and pushed her upper body into a vertical position, forming the common yoga position. But this position was certainly not common in a courtroom, and the plunging neckline of Luissa’s loose blouse gave all of the jury members a fantastic view of her tits.

The courtroom was silent for a moment as the limber girl held the pose, then a small chuckle from one jury member turned into loud laughter from a number of jurors and audience members. This finally shook the posing girl back to reality so she could scamper to her seat.

In his closing argument, the state prosecutor tried to paint what happened to Rhea and Luissa as a grave injustice that was completely out of their control, but it was clear that his heart wasn’t in it. Mr. Carey’s attorney, on the other hand, was in fine form:

“Ladies and gentlemen, as you have seen, these two girls have a very obedient nature. They claim that they thought these episodes on the track were dreams, and yet their own descriptions make it clear that these dreams were nothing like their real dreams. These girls could have gone to the police with their accusations at any time, but they never did; not even once over the past three years. On top of this, they both admit to getting sexual enjoyment from their activities.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the acts you heard described may have been bizarre, but they were consensual. These girls have lived the lives they did of their own choosing. You may not agree with that lifestyle, but there was no crime committed here.”

That night, Rhea sat on the edge of her bed with her head in her hands. The state prosecutor had promised her that if she testified, they would convict Paul Carey, and that the money the rich bastard would have to pay her would mean she wouldn’t have to work another day in her life. But the jury hadn’t convicted the fucker. In just twenty minutes of deliberation, they had found him not guilty.

The jury had written a statement that they read out loud in the court, scolding Rhea and Luissa for their perversions and for falsely accusing the defendant in a clear attempt to win a damages claim. They even recommended that Mr. Carey receive a payment from the girls for defamation of character. To Rhea’s horror, the judge whole-heartedly agreed, and ruled that each girl must pay Mr. Carey a sum of $50,000, payable over 5 years.

Rhea was distraught. Her life was ruined. She had been forced by her ‘dreams’ to quit her accounting job two years before to become a stripper and a slut. That alone would probably make it hard to get her old job back. Now, the publicly available information on the court case would make it impossible to get that job or probably to get hired anywhere to do anything other than continue to sell her body for money.

And she was going to need money to pay that fine; otherwise she would be going to go to jail. She had almost no savings to start with. Her dreams had forced her to charge the minimum rate to her customers, which got her plenty of sex but didn’t get her a lot of cash. And the cash she did get always had to be spent on fancy clothes, lingerie, manicures, teeth whitening, boob jobs and all the other things that her dreams demanded. She actually didn’t want to give up all of those things, but knew she would have to. She would also have to work extra hard, if she was going to be able to pay $10,000 a year and still make ends meet.

It rankled her that these payments would be a massive hardship for her, but wouldn’t even matter to the rich bastard she would be paying. It burned worse thinking about the fact that she would be paying him at all, knowing now that he was the one who had tormented her and forced her to become the slave and the slut that she now undeniably was. But the most infuriating thing of all was the fact that she had been so thoroughly duped. She had actually believed that it was her own self-conscious forcing her to do all those things, and therefore that there was no way out. How could she have been so gullible? As that asshole attorney had made clear, she had been free to go to the police at any time over the last three years. She could have prevented all of this if she hadn’t been so stupid.

Rhea rubbed her neck as she sat there trying to think what to do, and she came across the tiny lump that was apparently the device that could knock her out. Jeeesus, she still had it in! She had been told to keep it during the trial, that it would be very dangerous to try to remove herself, and that the payment she was supposed to be getting would cover the cost of having it surgically removed.

Now she was going to have to find the money to pay for that herself. In the meantime, she still had a remote on/off switch built into her neck! Paul had been locked up during the trial, because the police had thought there was such a strong case against him and because he posed such a clear threat. But now he was out, so…

…Rhea came-to in a kneeling position on the floor of the underground track, as she had so many times before. She was naked save for her high heeled boots, butt plug, vibrator, corset, arm binder, collar and blinders. This was all normal, but there were some differences. She wasn’t hooked to a cart or locked to a hitching post, and she didn’t have any kind of gag in her mouth. But there was something else, something more important... it hit her that her vision wasn’t at all foggy and she was able to think clearly. Paul must not have used that drug that the prosecutor said he had been giving her to make her episodes seem more dream-like.

This realization, however, didn’t do Rhea any good. She couldn’t use her clear thoughts to magically remove her armbinder or wake herself up to get back to her bedroom. It took some effort to force herself to get up and look around, which went against the training that had been so thoroughly drilled into her. She appeared to be alone in the track, though it was hard to confirm that with the blinders cutting off so much of her vision. It seemed like someone could be ducking just out of her field of view even when she spun around.

She headed for the first door she saw, only to find that the doorknob was set back inside a small hole in the door. There was no way she could reach it with the armbinder on, and certainly no way she could turn the knob even if it was unlocked. She only found one other door, and it had a similar handle.

As she was trying hopelessly to jam her sheathed hands into the hole, she heard the voice of her master give the command: “Kneel.”

Instinct kicked in, and she was on her knees with her face pressed to the floor before she could stop herself. She fought to get control of her own body, telling herself that this wasn’t a dream and that she shouldn’t be a slave. After a moment stuck on the floor, she was able to get up and faced her captor directly for the first time. It was indeed Paul Carey, the man she had been glaring at in the courtroom. He was wearing the black gloves and boots that she had caught glimpses of over the years. He was looking at her and smiling.

Rhea had to fight her ingrained submissiveness to shout: “Release me at once or I’ll press charges!”

Paul only chuckled and patted her on the head. “We all know how well that works for you, dear.”

Anger was finally taking over. Rhea tried to kick out at her captor, but though she was quite used to the high heeled boots, her outfit really wasn’t made for fighting. Paul took a small step back, and she ended up sprawled painfully on the floor. Her next thought was to run, but even as she turned to flee she knew how ridiculous the attempt was. She was bound and locked in this basement, and anyway, she had a knockout switch in her head that Paul could use at any time.

Paul’s voice was easy to hear even from the other side of the track: “Come now, my pet, I have an offer for you that you’ll want to hear. When you’re ready, just put your nose ring through this hook over here and I’ll come back.”

Rhea watched him open one of the doors and leave. She ran over to try to get the door before it closed, but was too late. It didn’t look or sound like Paul had unlocked the door to leave or locked it after him, but there was still no way for her to reach the handle. She screamed for him to come back or for someone to let her out, but she didn’t have much hope of anyone else hearing her.

Rhea paced the track a couple times to try to gather her thoughts, but realized just how ridiculous it was to be willingly walking around this track. Finally, she went to find the hook that Paul had mentioned. She found it hanging on a cord from the ceiling at about eye level. It would force her to stand very tall and stay right in that spot. She imagined willingly putting herself in that position. It was the kind of thing she would have quickly done in her ‘dreams’, but it was different knowing that this was real and that she should be free!

Rhea finally convinced herself that waiting was foolish. She was already trapped and at Paul’s mercy, so she might as well hear what he had to say. She walked up to the hook, stood as tall as she possibly could, and was barely able to get her nose ring over it. As soon as she did, she saw that the hook closed down on itself, preventing her from getting back off. It also pulled upwards about an inch, making it impossible to hop up or move hardly at all.

After a few minutes of dangling alone, Rhea heard the door open and saw Paul stroll her way. “Let me off of here you bastard!”

“Ah ah ah,” her captor chided, “be nice, or I’ll command you to get on your knees. Do you think you’d be able to stop yourself before ripping that ring right out of your nose? And can you imagine my attorney questioning you about that in court? ‘So you hooked yourself up there and then knelt down, just because he told you too?’ Anyway, listen up, you’ll want to consider the offer I’m going to make.”

Rhea glared down her nose, but knew she’d better just listen. Paul patted her head and told her she was a good girl, then hefted her boobs and launched in to his speech:

“I’ve come to enjoy you quite a bit these last few years, and I’d be truly sorry to see you go. I also know that you’re in a rather large bind financially, between the money you owe me and the difficulty you’re going to have finding normal employment. So, I’m going to propose a deal that will get both of us what we want.

“You will agree to be my slave for the next 5 years. You will sign a document that states that you are willingly submitting to any painful or humiliating activities that I force you to do and you completely waive any rights you have to press charges against me for anything I do to you. In return, I will waive the annual payments that you owe me and provide you with room and board. At the end of five years, if you wish to leave my service, you will be given a sum of $50,000 with which to start a new life.”

Paul had continued stroking Rhea’s body as he talked. When he finished, his right hand was pressed firmly over the vibrator that was buried in her pussy. He flipped a switch to turn that vibrator on and off. “Don’t give me an answer right now, dear. If you’d like to accept, then come to my attorney’s office at 9AM tomorrow morning. Oh, and when you’re ready to leave here for the night, just give me twenty prancing laps around the track.”

Paul strolled out again, and in a few moments Rhea was released from the hook. She didn’t want to even think about the decision right then, she just wanted to get home, so she went ahead and pranced the twenty laps, feeling like an idiot in the empty track…

…Rhea woke up on her bed and glanced at her clock to see that it was the middle of the night. For the first time, she knew that her memories of the track had been real. That bastard had just come in here and kidnapped her, stripped her naked, abused her, then brought her back. It was an experience she was intimately used to, but she’d never known the truth. It might have been just moments ago that Paul or some agent of his had been right here in her room, dropping her naked and unconscious body back onto her bed.

Fucking creepy! In any sane world, she should be able to have that guy arrested and thrown in jail for a long long time. Somehow, though, all sanity had been lost. Instead of sending him to jail, she was strongly considering signing her next five years away to him. What choice did she have? She could keep whoring herself for the next five years, sending him every extra dollar she earned. She’d be his slave anyway, and after five years she’d be basically no better off than she was right then. And if she didn’t pay, she’d be a prisoner in jail for the next five years, and again not be any better once it was done. It looked like she was going to be a slave for the next half decade no matter what, so she might as well leave herself in the best position at the end of those years, which was clearly the fifty grand that Paul had offered.

Rhea had massive second thoughts in the morning, but forced herself to get in her car and drive towards the attorney. Was she really going to sign herself up for five more years of the treatment she’d been getting in her ‘dreams’ for the last three years? It had been horribly painful and humiliating, but also… she thought about Paul vibrating her pussy just before he left last night. Certainly he was reminding her that there was some pleasure to be had, pleasure that she wouldn’t get in jail and probably better than what she’d get as a whore. She hated herself for taking that into account, but really, she knew that she didn’t have any choice.

Everything in the attorney’s office was handled professionally, which was insane given the nature of the contract they were signing. The attorney went over every page and made sure Rhea knew exactly what she was getting herself into. Paul signed and committed to his part of the bargain first, then Rhea took a deep breath and signed herself away.

As soon as she did, the attorney’s professional manner disappeared. He clapped Paul on the shoulder and stared hard at Rhea’s tits. “Paul, I never figured you’d actually get to keep either one of them, let alone both! I think I’d like to take my second installment payment on this one right now.”

“Sure thing Fred,” Paul replied. “Pet, please strip and bend over that desk so my attorney can fuck you up the ass.”

Rhea backed towards the door. Right off the bat this was more awful than she had imagined. Paul just laughed and said “Oh you can try to run away if you want, but you won’t get very far with that knock-out pill in your neck, and if you are disobedient right now, then you know the punishment you’re going to get for it later.”

Rhea’s mind was spinning. She hadn’t had a punishment dream in ages, but the memory of them was as strong as ever in her mind. And if she got one now, there wouldn’t be any dream drug to numb the memory. She knew she shouldn’t be shy about getting fucked, after she’d been working as a whore for so long, but this was different. She was in a professional place, with someone who shouldn’t want this of her. And she would be doing it as a slave, with no payment afterwards and no ability to set any limits. She had figured that she’d be doing all her slave’ing in private, like she had in her dreams. Had she made a big mistake?

Soon enough, the memory of the punishments won out, and she started stripping, embarrassed that the underwear she had on was so skimpy (it was the only kind she’d been allowed to buy for the last few years.) The attorney started smacking her ass like a pro as soon as she was naked and bent over his desk. With that, Rhea’s slave training kicked in, and she started thanking him and begging for more.

The attorney was happy to give her more, and turned her ass a deep red before plunging his cock inside. As he slammed his member mercilessly in and out of her rear hole, he grabbed her head and yanked her chest up off the desk. His other hand reached around her and looped both nipple rings with his thumb and pinky, allowing him to pull her boobs together and yank them around as he continued to pound her. Rhea’s arms had always been bound in her ‘dreams,’ so with her hands free now she reflexively grabbed at her breasts to try to limit the tugging.

“Paul, this bitch is trying to interfere, could you hold her?”

Paul walked to the other side of the desk and pulled Rhea’s hands firmly away from her nipples so the attorney could continue without interference. “I’m going to have to punish you later for the disobedience,” Paul told her.

Even through the pain of the spanking and nipple tugging, Rhea knew that the punishment Paul had in mind would be infinitely worse. She begged for lenience, but Paul only shook his head sadly: “It seems like you’ve forgotten a lot in the last month. A slave must never ask to avoid punishment. Your punishment will be increased for that. You’ll need every bit of the pain to help get you back on track as a slave. Now clasp your arms behind your back and take the rest of what our nice attorney has to give you.”

After the attorney had his fill, Rhea lay panting on his desk, her arms still clasped behind her back and her legs still spread wide, thinking with dread about the punishment she had coming. “My God,” she thought, “it’s going to be like this for the next five years. Am I even going to remember how to live a normal life by then?”

Paul had opened a rolling suitcase and instructed Rhea to get in so he could transport her back to the track for her punishment. She didn’t think it was possible that she could fit in such a small bag, but Paul just laughed at her quizzical expression. “Oh honey, you’ll definitely fit. You’ve been in that bag literally hundreds of times!”

Rhea looked down at the suitcase. Hundreds of times! This was the thing Paul had used to take her out of her house and bring her back most every night for the last three years. She had never even seen it before. Rhea felt as though the horror of her dream life was crashing in to what remained of her normal life. She knew that if she got into that bag, then what remained of normality would be gone and her life would be all slavedom for the next half decade. She also knew that she didn’t have a choice, but she just couldn’t force herself to take that step, and so she ran. She got to the door of the office and started to turn the knob…

…and woke up in an extremely cramped fetal position in total darkness. Some kind of inflatable gag filled every corner of her mouth, leaving her barely able to make a sound. She tried to squirm, but had no room to budge. A crack of light opened above her and her head was yanked up by her hair. She looked down and saw that her head was sticking up out of a small slit that had been opened in the roller suitcase. The rest of her body was still thoroughly trapped inside. She expected to see the underground track, or maybe some other part of Paul’s estate, but was surprised to see that she was still in the attorney’s office.

Paul cupped her chin in his hand and said “I wanted you to be awake while I brought you home this time. It will give you time to think about how bad your punishment will be for interfering with getting fucked, talking back, and trying to run away. With all that, it’s a good thing I don’t have to worry about getting you back to your bed by morning! That’s one limitation that I’m quite glad is gone. Yes, you and your old friend are going to have an interesting first week or so, but I’m confident that you’ll get back in to the swing of it pretty quickly.”

When Paul mentioned “her old friend” he had nodded his head towards the opposite wall where Rhea saw a suitcase identical to the one that she was in. It was clearly full – Luissa had been there the whole time! As Rhea’s head was shoved back down and sealed into darkness, she was unreasonably angry at her friend. As she felt the bag she was in start to be rolled away, she thought: “That bitch could have tried to shake her bag or something to stop me from signing my life away! But no, now we’re both off to hell.”

Rhea’s anger didn’t really make any sense. She would have signed that contract even if Luissa had screamed at her not to. And even if she hadn’t signed, could she really have escaped the maniacal and powerful genius who had captured her? He had already demonstrated that he could do anything he wanted to her and still beat her in a court case. He owned her. The contract just made it official. He had owned her for years, ever since that knock-out device had first been implanted in her neck.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 5 Years Later ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Rhea was happy to be sent off the estate to run an errand. She’d only been allowed to leave a handful of times over the last five years, and it sure beat licking the floor of the grand ball room clean, or running endless training laps around the track, or being the fuck toy to any number of people at the house who had full access to her body.

The errand she was on sounded particularly fun. She was just supposed to go to Club Yulo and dance up a storm. Of course she was wearing a small earpiece that allowed her master to communicate with her, so she wasn’t surprised when an additional command came in: walk up to the cute red-head at the bar and offer her a neck message. It was an odd command, but after nearly eight years of slavedom, Rhea no longer questioned the things she was ordered to do. She simply obeyed.

Rhea felt a strange sense of de-ja-vu as she rubbed the red-head’s neck, but she couldn’t quite place it. Another command came in: “Cup the girl’s neck with your left hand and firmly press your new ring just to the left of her spine.”

Rhea obeyed automatically and instantly. The ring she had been given earlier that day had a sharp point on the opposite side from its stone. Rhea had thought that was odd, but of course didn’t question it. As that sharp point pressed into the red-head’s neck it made a little clicking sound. The girl gave out a surprised little yell and Rhea finally remembered why this all seemed familiar.

Rhea had been to club Yulo before, just before her ‘dreams’ had started, and she had gotten a message from some random woman. That massage had also ended in a sharp little prick to her neck. It all clicked for Rhea – the little prick she had gotten all those years ago had been no more accidental than the little prick she had just given this red-head. That’s how the knock-out device had first been implanted in her neck! And… shit, she had just implanted one of those devices in the red-head. She had just doomed this cute nice-looking girl to a life of slavery!

Rhea began apologizing profusely. The red-head waived it off, saying that the little prick hadn’t hurt that much and not to worry about it. But of course Rhea did worry about it, and of course she couldn’t tell this girl why. She just apologized over and over, wishing there was something else she could do. But all she could do was watch the girl take her drink and walk back over to her friends – friends that she would almost certainly lose as she fell down the same rabbit hole that Rhea had been tumbling down ever since her own neck had been pricked.

Watching the girl walk away, Rhea acknowledged that her master had picked a hottie: tight little ass that swayed under her skirt, long toned legs that looked great in heals, an appealing hourglass shape, and that gorgeous red hair that fell in curls halfway down her back. And she was young. Maybe about eight years younger than Rhea. The significance wasn’t lost on the older slave. The cycle would continue, but maybe her role in it was finally coming to an end.