Chapter Four

The elevator doors parted with a soft chime on the executive floor. Emma stepped out with deliberate care, each movement a calculated effort to keep her balance on the extreme heels that locked her feet into an unforgiving point.

The slave trainer had wrestled into the uniform her subordinate, Gareth, had assigned for the day only an hour earlier, after a curt message instructed her to report directly to the Director of Slave Improvement for her latex prototype fitting before starting her regular duties.

White latex formed a corsetted full-body catsuit that cinched the brunette woman’s waist into a dramatic inward curve, the built-in structure pushing her 32B-cup breasts upward and outward through separate circular openings that framed each one individually. The effect was humiliating and gave her the appearance of larger tits. Additional gaps at her crotch and rear left Emma’s shaved pussy and ass completely bare, although thankfully, they were left unplugged today. Matching white ballet boots laced tightly to her knees forced her posture into a careful, straight posture, her backside thrust out while her chest presented itself forward. It was the only way she could consistently stand without toppling over.

A large white ball gag completed the outfit Gareth had chosen, the sphere measuring over two inches in diameter and stretching the brunette’s jaw painfully wide. Thick white straps buckled behind her head and under her chin, holding the gag immovable while the ball pressed her tongue flat and turned any attempt at speech into useless, muffled sounds.

Emma hated every part of the outfit with a passion. The corset squeezed her ribs until breathing felt like a conscious effort, and the openings that bared her breasts and pussy turned every corridor into a stage for unwanted attention. Men passing by slowed their steps without shame, their gazes raking over her exposed tits and the smooth slit between her legs, some offering appreciative nods or low whistles that made her stomach twist with rage. In this day and age, Emma was used to not being respected by the men around her, but her position had always given her a sense of power and authority that allowed her to grin and bear it. Now, the new uniform policy undermined that authority, and her male colleagues looked at her with a predatory sense of hunger, whether they were a manager or a lowly janitor.

The woman reached the door to Carlos Mendez’s office and paused for a moment to steady herself before knocking firmly with her gloved knuckles. The sound was louder than she had planned, prompting a gagged secretary outside the CEO’s office to glance up and stare. “Come in,” Emma heard a voice shout from inside.

The chief slave trainer pushed the door open and stepped across the threshold, her boots forcing tiny, careful steps as she tottered precariously. The office felt larger than she remembered, the wide desk dominating the space as Carlos Mendez sat behind it, his overweight frame filling a bright yellow floral shirt, the buttons straining across his belly.

Carlos looked up from his computer screen and broke into a wide grin the instant he saw her. He leaned back in his chair and sleazily folded his arms over his stomach, his dark eyes traveling slowly over her body. “There’s my favorite chief trainer. You’re right on time, Ms. Duke,” he said, his Mexican accent rolling heavily over the words. “You look perfect in that uniform. Your handler has good taste.”

The director gestured toward the chair positioned opposite his desk with a lazy wave of his chubby hand. “Have a seat, Ms. Duke. We have plenty to discuss.”

Emma hesitated for a fraction of a second before she began the slow journey across the room. Each step required total concentration to avoid losing her balance, and falling over in front of the director would have compounded her humiliation. Eventually, she approached the desk and reached for the seat. The brunette turned carefully, preparing to lower herself onto it, before her eyes dropped to the cushion, and her eyes widened.

A long, clear phallic dildo rose straight up from the center of the seat, the shaft measuring at least eight inches and thick enough to fill up the most well-used orifices. The base anchored the sex toy firmly, the dildo waiting like an obscene invitation.

The slave trainer’s gaze snapped up to her boss, her eyes wide with shock and refusal. “Nnnphhh! Whmmph thhh fckk?” she garbled through the large white ball gag, the words coming out as desperate, wet moans. She shook her head sharply and took a stumbling step back, her arms crossing protectively over her exposed breasts.

Carlos simply watched her with that same expectant stare, his hands folded calmly on the desk as if he had all the time in the world. He said nothing, his eyes locked on hers while a faint smile played at the corners of his mouth. He was enjoying her discomfort.

The brunette stood frozen in place, her heart pounding as the silence stretched. The dildo remained upright on the chair. Emma glanced at it again, then back at Carlos, her muffled protests growing more frantic. “Nnnphhh! Ymmm cnnnt bbb srrss!”

He continued to wait, his expression unchanging, the amusement deepening in his gaze.

Emma shifted her weight from one foot to the other, the boots making even that small movement a challenge. She refused to sit and put that thing deep inside of her.

Finally, Carlos threw his head back and let out a hearty, booming laugh that filled the room. He slapped the desk with one hand, his far belly shaking beneath the floral shirt as the sound rolled around him. “Ay, I’m just kidding, Emma,” he managed between chuckles, wiping a tear from his eye. “You can stand if you want. I just couldn’t resist the joke.”

The latex-clad trainer narrowed her eyes above the gag, her chest heaving with barely contained fury as she remained on her feet. “Mmmphhh ymmm bsthrd,” she muttered, the insult lost in muffled grunts.

The Mexican director waved a hand dismissively, still grinning as his laughter faded. “Calm down,” he said condescendingly. “I do enjoy seeing that fire in your eyes. Now, let’s get to business.”

Carlos’s gaze lingered on Emma’s exposed breasts for a long moment before he met her eyes again. “You put our department in a very favorable light on Friday at the board meeting,” he said with approval in his voice. “Volunteering yourself as the official Product Tester for the company was a noble move and demonstrated your commitment to CuffTech. The CEO was impressed, and I want to thank you personally for that.”

Emma shook her head sharply and stomped one boot against the floor, which forced her to place her hand on the arm of the dildo-protruding chair to keep her balance. “Nnnphhh! Emm dddnt vllnttrr!” she protested through the gag, although the words emerged as more angry incoherent moans. She knew full well that Carlos had forced the squeal out of her to make it look like she had volunteered.

The director chuckled again. “Exactly,” he said, acting as if her garbled protests were an act of affirmation. He reached down to the floor beside his desk and lifted a small black box, placing it carefully on the surface of his desk before flipping the lid open.

Inside rested a thin silver metal band, polished and seamless, no wider than a ribbon yet clearly designed to encircle a neck. “This is the SmartCollar we are currently developing,” the man explained as he lifted the band between his fingers and held it up for Emma to see. “The R&D department is very excited about this one. They can’t wait to document the results from real-world testing.”

Emma stared at the band with growing alarm, her arms dropping to her sides as she took an instinctive step back. “Nnnphhh! Dddnt pt thht nnn mmm!” She had no idea what the collar was designed to do, and she had no intention of finding out. She was a slave trainer, not a damn slave!

Carlos stood from his chair and circled the desk once more, the silver band dangling from his fingers. He tapped a button on his watch, which instantly released a hidden latch on the collar, opening it up. “This is not optional, Ms. Duke,” he said firmly. “You are the Product Tester now. This is part of the job.”

The chubby director moved behind Emma without another word, his presence close enough that she felt the heat from his large body against the latex on her skin. The brunette tensed, her hands clenching at her sides as the reflective band brushes her skin. She muffled out a sharp protest, the sound emerging as a strained “Nnnphhh! Stppph thht!” through the white ball gag, but she held perfectly still.

Lashing out at her direct boss would end her career in an instant, and unemployment remained the fastest path to the auction block for any free woman. She couldn’t risk that, no matter how much she wanted to shove the fat slob away. Her heart pounded while the silver collar encircled her neck.

A soft click sounded as the ends met, the collar locking into place with no visible clasp in sight. Emma reached up immediately, her gloved fingers tracing the smooth surface that now formed a perfect circle around her neck. It sat snug but not too tight, the weight barely noticeable yet impossible to ignore.

Carlos stepped back around to face her, his grin returning as he admired the addition. “There,” he said as he returned to his seat. “It looks so professional and elegant, doesn’t it?”

Emma’s fingers tugged at the silver band, testing its hold while frustration built in her chest. As expected, the metal refused to budge under her touch. She pulled again, sharper this time, just on the off chance that there was a weak hinge, but a tiny jolt snapped through her neck, sharp enough to make the brunette squeak in surprise. “Mmmphh!”

Carlos chuckled from his chair, the sound low and amused as he watched his chief trainer flinch. “That’s one of the many security features built into the device,” he said casually. “Anti-tampering shock. If someone tries too hard to remove it, the collar will deliver a punishing shock to remind you of your place.”

The chief trainer froze, her hand dropping away as the faint tingle faded. She glared at her boss over the ball gag, her breath coming faster through her nose while the collar sat snug against her skin.

The director leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk, his fingers interlacing as he studied the addition to her uniform. “The SmartCollar always remains active,” he explained in a matter-of-fact tone. “It never turns off completely. During work hours, it stays visible like this, a thin silver band snug around your neck. Your handler does have the option to adjust the style and material of the collar, but this is the default appearance. When the clock hits five, and you’re suddenly off the clock, it will recede into a small lump at the back of your neck, just like that SmartGag does when it’s not needed. You’ll barely feel it there, but it’s still working, still monitoring for commands.”

Carlos pressed a button on his watch with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving Emma’s face as the device beeped softly in confirmation. “Control of the collar has just been granted to your handlers,” he announced. “Gareth and Luke will oversee the daily testing now. They know what to do.”

Emma’s hands flew to the silver band again, although she was careful not to tug and elicit another shock. The idea of Gareth being in control of whatever this thing did made her sick. He couldn’t be trusted. “Mmmphhh! Nnnphhh thht!” she garbled desperately, the sounds emerging as frantic, meaningless noises that Carlos completely ignored.

The director waved a dismissive hand and leaned back in his chair once more. “Now, get out of my sight,” he ordered sharply. “You have a job to do.”

As Emma frustratedly turned, Carlos grinned at her. “Report back to me before you finish your day,” he added firmly. “I want to make sure the collar is calibrated correctly.”

The brunette sighed behind her gag as she made her way to the office door. She pushed the door open and stepped into the corridor without looking back. How had she fallen this far? How had the company moved so far away from the recently retired CEO, Robert Hayes’s, prior vision? The click of the latch behind her sounded as she left her boss’s office and made her way back to the elevator.

❖

The paddle landed with a sharp crack across the slave’s bare ass, the impact sending a ripple through her dark skin and drawing a muffled cry from behind the red ball gag stretching her full lips. The young Black woman remained bent over the spanking bench, her wrists and ankles locked in thick leather cuffs that held her body firmly in place, her back bent and legs spread to expose everything. The slave’s short curly hair bounced slightly with each strike, sweat beading across her toned shoulders and down the curve of her spine. Defiant green eyes flared back over her shoulder whenever the paddle paused, but the fight in them had started to fade after twenty solid minutes of steady punishment.

Emma circled the bench with careful steps, her boots forcing her walk into tottering movements that made her bare breasts bounce lightly. She had chosen this session to prove a point after the morning’s fitting. She may be wearing a collar, but she was still in charge around here and could break a slave with the best of them. The young woman on the bench had arrived full of fire, cursing the guards who dragged her in and promising to fight every step. Now those curses came out as wet, incoherent pleas around the gag, her body trembling each time the paddle hit.

Another firm strike landed lower, right where the dark-haired woman’s thigh met her ass, and the slave jerked against her restraints. Emma internally smiled as she bit down on her own white gag; this felt good. She had the slave exactly where she wanted her—exposed, helpless, and starting to crack.

The trainer raised the paddle for the next blow, savoring the way the woman’s muscles tensed in anticipation. The slave’s skin already showed fresh red marks across her ass and thighs, a map of submission that Emma had painted herself. Those green eyes flicked back again, narrower this time, but the defiance had dulled into something closer to resignation.

The leather paddle came down hard, the crack echoing through the small training room as the slave’s body bucked forward, her bound hands clenching into fists. Emma paused to admire the new welt, her own breath coming a little faster in excitement behind her gag. The session had gone better than expected. She could already picture the report from another satisfied client.

Emma raised the paddle high once more, ready to drive home another punishing strike that would leave the slave whimpering for mercy. However, a sudden prick unexpectedly stung the back of her neck, right beneath the silver collar Carlos had fastened that morning. She stumbled forward half a step, the paddle lowering as her free hand shot up to touch the band. What was that? She wondered in alarm, her fingers pressing against the smooth metal. Nothing else seemed to happen, which left the slave trainer confused. Perhaps a malfunction with the tamper-proof shocking mechanism, she thought, shaking off the brief discomfort.

The brunette steadied herself and brought the paddle down twice more in quick succession, the cracks ringing out as the slave’s dark skin bloomed with fresh red lines. The woman’s body jerked each time, her muffled cries rising in pitch behind the gag.

Something strange began almost immediately after the second strike. Emma felt her bare nipples tighten without warning, hardening into stiff peaks that brushed sensitively against the cool air of the room. A shiver ran down her spine, the sensation far more intense than it ever should have been. What was that? She paused again, the paddle hovering, as warmth spread lower down her body, her exposed pussy twitching with an ache that kept the brunette completely off-guard.

The trainer shook her head and tried to focus, delivering another firm smack to the slave’s rear. The impact felt good in her hand, but the latex against her own skin suddenly registered differently, every shift of the material sending sparks of pleasure across her body. She was becoming hornier, the need building fast between her legs.

Knowing the sensations had to be connected to the collar, Emma turned her gaze to the one-way mirror on the wall. Her own reflection stared back, her wide gag stretching her mouth wide, breasts thrust out by the corsetted catsuit. Behind the glass, the woman caught the faint silhouette of a figure watching—Gareth, no doubt—and narrowed her eyes in fury. He had done something.

Emma forced her attention back to the slave and raised the paddle once more. “Mmmphh bbbhvv!” she garbled through the white ball gag, attempting to ignore her own horny state.

The trainer brought the paddle down hard across the slave’s upper thigh with a satisfying crack. The young Black woman bucked against the bench, her muffled cry rising behind her own gag. Emma tried to maintain her rhythm, striking again and again, but the growing heat between her own legs made concentration impossible. Her pussy ached with an inexplicable need, the slickness building until she felt it coating her inner thighs.

Another strike landed, weaker this time. She paused, the paddle hovering, as her free hand pressed unconsciously between her legs, her fingers brushing her exposed clit through the open crotch of her suit. The touch sent a jolt of pleasure down her spine.

The slave twisted her head as much as the restraints allowed, her green eyes watching with confusion as Emma stood frozen, one hand between her legs. The woman’s muffled protests turned questioning, but Emma barely registered them.

The need became unbearable, and the trainer needed to do something about it. She dropped the paddle with a clatter and moved to the bench, her fingers fumbling at the clips holding the slave’s cuffs. She unfastened them quickly, the leather snapping free as she gripped the gagged woman’s hair and thrust her down to her knees.

Emma grabbed a hogtie clasp from the nearby rack and worked quickly. She forced the slave’s arms behind her back, clasping them together, before attaching the same device to the ankle restraints. The connection pulled the woman’s body into a tight kneel, her shoulders drawn back and her chest pushed up while her knees stayed planted to the floor. The position left her helpless, unable to rise or fight effectively.

The brunette trainer propped herself up against the spanking bench for support, her legs shaking from the building ache between them. She reached down with one hand and unbuckled the red gag from the slave’s mouth, pulling it free with a wet pop. The Black woman gasped for air, her full lips parting as she blinked in confusion.

“What the fuck are you doing, you weird bit-mpphh!”

Emma gripped the woman’s curly hair tightly and thrust the woman’s face forward before she could complete the sentence, pressing her open mouth against the wet folds of her exposed entrance. The slave’s tongue met the wet heat instinctively at first, warm and tentative against Emma’s throbbing clit. The trainer moaned behind her own gag, the sound emerging as a desperate “Mmmphhh” while her hips rocked forward, demanding more.

The young slave thrashed around, trying to pull away from the brunette’s horny pussy, but Emma held her in place and forced the woman to pleasure her. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure through the trainer’s body, her bare breasts heaving with quick breaths while the corset held her posture rigid. The slave’s mouth worked reluctantly but effectively, the warmth and wetness building the ache high, Emma’s thighs tensing around the kneeling head.

Emma groaned harder against the tongue, chasing the release that felt so close, her fingers tightening in the curly hair. The sensation intensified with every lock, her pussy clenching around nothing while the slave’s muffled protests vibrated faintly against her clit. The pleasure coiled tighter, pushing Emma toward the edge she desperately needed.

The buildup crested, but the climax refused to break. The chief trainer’s hips jerked faster, forcing the tongue deeper, but the release hovered just out of reach, frustrating and maddening the woman. She pulled the slave’s head closer, demanding more pleasure, more friction, anything to tip her over.

In sudden frustration, Emma shoved the slave away hard enough to send her toppling sideways onto the floor, the hogtie clasp keeping her curled helplessly in a hogtie. The bound woman gasped for air as her face glistened while she stared up in shock.

Emma shook her head in resignation, her own body throbbing with unspent need, her pussy soaking wet and aching as she turned away. She tottered toward the door on unsteady legs, the ballet boots making her movement harder while the denied pleasure pulsed between her legs. She was going to kill that asshole.

❖

The leash tugged sharply in Emma’s gloved hand as she commanded the slave to heel, the words coming out as a garbled “Mmmphh hhhll!” through the large ball gag in her mouth. The bald naked woman dropped back to her hands and knees immediately, her paws raised briefly in a begging motion before the pull forced her down. Puppy mittens encased her hands and feet, rendering them useless fists and stumps that padded softly against the floor. A thick plug filled her ass, the brown dog tail protruding and wagging with each movement, while a simple black dog collar around the slave’s neck connected to the leash Emma held in her hand.

After the humiliating disaster of the end of her previous session, Emma had stormed through the corridors searching for Gareth, desperate to confront him about the relentless ache the collar had ignited between her legs. He had vanished, nowhere to be seen in the control rooms or break areas, leaving her throbbing and frustrated with no outlet for answers or relief. He was her damn subordinate, but he was interfering with her work at every opportunity. The arousal had simmered down slightly by the time this new pet training session began, enough that she could focus on the company’s long-time client’s latest acquisition—a former lawyer who had led her exemption expire, attempting to renew it a day late, and now reduced to an obedient pet.

The slave crawled forward on command, her tail swaying as Emma led her around the room in small circles. This was the woman’s third session, and most of the fight had left her body. She had become quite the receptive little puppy as Emma tugged the leash again, guiding her to sit back on her haunches, paws raised in that begging pose the client wanted her to perfect.

“Good girl,” Emma tried to say, the words mangled into “Gggdd gggll.” The bald slave tilted her head at the sound. It had been the first time the slave had been trained by the brunette since the change of uniform policy, and the effect was humorous even to a lowly pet.

Emma reached for a rubber bone from the nearby supply shelf and held it up for the puppy to see. The bald woman’s eyes locked on the toy immediately, her body tensing in anticipation as her tail gave an involuntary wag. The slave trainer bit against her ball gag as she grinned internally at the reaction; that was exactly how she had trained the puppy to react.

The trainer tossed the bone across the room with a casual flick, watching it bounce against the far wall before rolling to a stop. “Mmmphh ftchh!” she commanded.

The puppy slave dropped to all fours without hesitation and scrambled after the bone, her mittened paws paddling quickly while her tail swayed side to side. Emma formed the best chuckle she could around the gag. She enjoyed these kinds of training sessions. The puppy reached the toy and scooped it up carefully between her teeth, the rubber squeaking faintly as she clamped down. The woman turned and crawled back just as eagerly, he knees sliding across the floor until she reached Emma’s feet. She dropped the bone gently in front of the ballet boots and sat back on her haunches again, her paws raised proudly as she waited for approval.

Emma bent down with careful balance to retrieve the bone, her corset and the heels restricting her movements. The reach sent a faint twinge through her pussy, the slickness from earlier returning without warning as her body responded to the simple bend. The chief trainer straightened slowly, trying to quell the warmth spreading low in her belly as she gripped the toy more tightly, making it squeak.

She tossed the bone again, sending it skittering across the room. The slave launched after it with enthusiasm, her naked body moving fluidly in the puppy role she had reluctantly accepted. Emma watched the tail wag and felt her own need building, the ache between her legs growing sharper with each passing second.

The trainer’s gaze drifted to the nearby table while the puppy scrambled after the bone. She was horny as hell and needed to take care of it. The previous slave’s tongue did nothing, but perhaps something more substantial would do the trick. A thick 9-inch dildo caught Emma’s eye, its ribbed rubber surface gleaming under the room lights, positioned there to use on her trained slaves. The gagged brunette’s hand moved almost on its own, picking up the heavy shaft as the warmth between her legs turned into an insistent throb.

She dropped to the nearest chair in a hurried motion, the corset creaking as she spread her legs wide, the opening in her suit leaving her pussy fully accessible. The phallic object pressed against her wet entrance and easily slid in deep on the first thrust as Emma’s hips bucked forward to take every inch.

The puppy had returned to the spot Emma had previously stood with the bone in her mouth, tilting her bald head in confusion as she dropped the toy and watched her trainer’s frantic motions. The bald woman opened her mouth to speak, her voice starting with a hesitant “What are you—”

A sharp crackle cut her off mid-word, the dog collar delivering a fierce shock that made her body convulse. The puppy screamed in pain as she collapsed forward on her mittened paws, trembling from the punishment. Her collar enforced strict rules—no human words allowed, only barks or whines for a proper pet.

Emma drove the dildo deeper with steady thrusts, the ribbed texture dragging against her inner walls and sending sparks of pleasure radiating through her core. Her free hand gripped the chair arm for leverage while her hips pushed forward, taking the shaft to the hilt each time. The sensation built slowly at first, a worm heat tightening inside her as her pussy stretched around the thickness, the wet sounds of her arousal filling the quiet room.

The bald puppy picked the bone toy back up before dropping it at Emma’s feet and sitting back with her paws raised. The slave watched with wide eyes as her trainer ignored her completely, lost in the rhythm of pushing the dildo in and out with increasing speed. Emma’s breath rose faster, her garbled moans escaping as the pleasure intensified, her exposed clit throbbing with each withdrawal.

She fucked herself harder, the chair creaking under the force while her bare breasts bounced. The shaft plunged deep, hitting spots that made her thighs tense and her toes curl painfully in her restricted footwear. The heat wound tighter, the edge approaching with delicious promise as sweat beaded across her skin, her body chasing the release that felt so close.

The chief trainer’s hand ached from the grip, but she refused to slow, slamming the dildo in with rough, desperate strokes that made her pussy clench greedily around it. The pleasure rose higher, her hips grinding down to force every inch inside while her gagged cries built behind the oral intrusion. She was right there, teetering on the brink, the climax hovering just beyond reach.

The wave reached a crescendo, but never broke. Emma thrust harder, faster, her arm burning from the effort as she chased the elusive peak, the dildo pounding relentlessly while her clit pulsed with frustrated need. The brunette’s hands trembled, her fingers cramping from the tight hold, but the orgasm refused to come, leaving her trapped in agonizing suspension. Nothing the trainer could do would push her over the edge. That fucking bastard! She thought.

In raw anger, Emma yanked the slick dildo free from her orifice and hurled it across the room. The rubber shaft bounced against the wall and rolled to a stop near the far corner.

The puppy slave perked up immediately, her training kicking in as she dropped to all fours and scrambled after the thrown object. She scooped it carefully between her teeth like a retrieved bone, tasting Emma’s juices, her tail wagging proudly as she crawled back with the dildo clamped in her mouth.

Emma groaned behind her gag, a deep, frustrated “Mmmphhh” that carried her rage and defeat. She pushed herself up from the chair, her pussy still wet and needy as she tottered toward the door. Another session had collapsed into disaster, her concentration shattered by the collar’s cruel effects. She couldn’t go on like this—she needed to confront Gareth and end this torment once and for all.

❖

The quiet filled Emma’s cramped office as Gareth sat with his feet propped up on the edge of the desk, peeling an orange with lazy motions. The slave trainer leaned back and popped a segment into his mouth and chewed slowly, his posture completely relaxed in the chair that belonged to his boss.

The door burst open without warning, slamming against the wall hard enough to rattle the framed certificates. Gareth jumped slightly, his feet dropping to the floor just as juice dripped from the orange onto his fingers. The surprise lasted only a second before the man’s face split into a wide grin when he saw who stood in the doorway.

Emma tottered inside in the extreme ballet boots, her posture forced into an exaggerated curve by the restrictions of the catsuit. The white latex continued to frame her bare breasts through the holes on her chest, the material leaving her slick pussy and ass exposed while the openings offered no coverage at all. The large white gag stretched her jaw wide, the strap holding it firm behind her head.

Gareth wiped his hands on a tissue and leaned back in the chair, making no move to vacate it. “You’ve done some great work this morning, boss,” the brunette man said with exaggerated praise. “Really impressive stuff. Keep it up.”

Emma growled low in her throat, the sound coming out as a furious “Grrrmmphh!” through the gag. The chief trainer took another careful step forward, her hands balling into fists at her side while her eyes burned with rage. That smug son of a big made her so damn angry! “Whmmph ddd ymmm ddd tmm mmm?” she demanded, the words just as incoherent as her previous attempt at speech.

Gareth continued to push her buttons. He tilted his head and cupped a hand behind his ear, his smirk widening. “Sorry, what was that?” he asked innocently. “You really need to speak up. I can’t make out a word you’re saying.”

The trainer tottered in precariously, slamming both gloved hands on the desk as she leaned forward, her B-cup breasts hovering over the surface. “Tll mmm whmmph ymmm ddd!” she garbled furiously, pushing the words out with all the force she could muster behind the gag.

Gareth burst into laughter, the sound rich and genuine as he watched his obnoxious boss struggle. “Honestly, boss,” he said between chuckles. “You always told me to be clearer in my reports. I think you’re going to have to find a better way to communicate.”

Emma’s chest heaved faster, her nipples tightening as she remained horny even as fury continued to burn in her eyes. She leaned over the desk again, trying once more to force coherent words past the gag. “Ymmm fffckng bsthrd! Fxx thss nww!” she garbled desperately.

The man chuckled louder before he finally relented, taping his smart watch with a casual flick. The large gag inside Emma’s mouth started to recede beneath her tongue in an instant, shrinking away to nothingness as the straps vanished completely. He mouth felt suddenly empty, her jaw aching from the hours of stretching as the chief trainer worked it open and closed.

“Now, is that better?” Gareth asked mockingly, his voice dripping with false concern as he continued to lean back in Emma’s chair.

The woman swallowed hard and straightened up as much as she could, her entire pussy still throbbing with a relentless need that refused to fade. “What the hell have you done to me, you son of a bitch?” she demanded, her voice hoarse from the hours of gagging, but sharp with anger. “I can’t focus on anything. I’m so horny it’s ruining my sessions. Fix it now!”

Gareth set the remaining orange aside and folded his arms, his eyes traveling slowly over her exposed body with deliberate appreciation. “Maybe there’s nothing to fix,” he said casually, his tone laced with amusement. “Maybe you’re just a horny slut who can’t concentrate at work because you’re too busy dreaming about having a cock buried deep inside that cunt of yours.”

Emma’s cheeks flushed darker, her fists clenching tighter on the table as the words hit like a slap. The insinuation fueled her fury even while the needy ache between her legs pulsed harder, almost causing her legs to buckle. “That’s not true,” she snapped. “You did something with that collar. I felt a prick against my neck, and now I can’t fucking focus!”

The man shrugged and stared at his interlocking fingers. “I’m serious,” he replied with a straight face that barely hid his enjoyment. “Some women just can’t handle the pressure of such a big job. Maybe all that responsibility has you fantasizing about being bent over and fucked until you can’t think straight. It happens.”

The chief trainer’s breath came faster, anger and unwanted arousal mixing into a frustrating heat that made her press her latex-clad thighs together. “You’re full of shit, Gareth,” she shot back, her voice rising. “This started right after I saw you grinning at me in the window. You trigger something, and you’re going to undo it.”

Gareth’s grin returned fully, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure as he watched the woman who undermined him so many times get what she deserved. “Or maybe the collar just brought out what was already there,” he said softly. “A needy little whore who spends her days training slaves and secretly wishing she was one of them, getting filled and used whenever a man feels like it.”

Emma slammed her palm on the desk again, the impact making her breasts bounce while her pussy clenched at the crude image he had painted. That bastard was turning her on more. “Shut up,” she hissed. “Just fix this. I can’t work like this.”

The subordinate stood slowly and circled the desk, stopping close enough to Emma that she felt his presence without touching her. “There is a way to fix it,” he admitted finally. “But you’re not going to like hearing it from me.”

The woman met his gaze, her eyes narrowed. “Tell me,” she barked.

Gareth leaned in slightly, his breath warm against the fetish-clad woman’s ear. “The collar gave you a one-time libido boost,” he explained. “That body of yours is locked into a needy and lustful state until you get properly fucked, but a real cock, possessed by a real man. The horniness won’t go away until a man dumps his load inside that pretty pussy of yours. That’s the reason why you haven’t been able to climax. You need to be fucked properly before your body resets.”

Emma pulled back sharply, her eyes searching Gareth’s face for any sign of a lie. The explanation sounded ridiculous and humiliating, but the constant ache supported every word. “You’re making that up,” she said. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

He shook his head and lazily traced a finger along the latex clinging to her arm, the touch sending a shiver down the woman’s spine. “I wish I were,” he mocked. “Unfortunately, there is no way to reverse it. You will stay like that until you’ve been fucked like a filthy whore. Fortunately, it's a one-time thing, so you will return to normal once you’re filled with a man’s seed.”

The trainer shook her head firmly. “I won’t do it,” she said defiantly. “I’m not letting you fuck me.”

Gareth chuckled and backed away from the panting woman, his hands raised in mock surrender. “Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug. “I’m not going to force you. You can stay horny and useless for as long as you want.”

The man turned toward the door, his steps casual as he prepared to leave her alone with her throbbing need.

Emma’s resolve cracked as the ache intensified inside her, her pussy clenching desperately around nothing. “Okay,” she relented quietly. “I’ll do it. I’ll let you fuck me.” The words tasted disgusting coming out of her mouth.

Gareth paused at the door and turned back, a smile widening on his face. “You’re being very forward there, boss,” he said coyly. “Another man may have reported that directly to HR.”

The woman growled low in her throat, her thighs pressing together as she trembled. “Just fuck me,” she demanded.

He shook his head slowly, the smile still on his face. “I don’t think I will,” he replied, his tone teasing. “I’m not really feeling up to it right now.”

Emma’s frustration boiled over. “Gareth,” she growled.

The subordinate leaned against the doorframe. “I’m not fucking you until you beg for it,” he said mockingly.

Emma’s eyes widened. He wanted her to beg? That fucking son of a bitch! “Please fuck me,” she said quietly through gritted teeth.

Gareth chuckled again. “That’s not begging,” he replied. “That’s an order from a boss who’s trying to be polite despite still acting like an insufferable bitch. Try again.”

The chief trainer’s hands clenched tighter, the need overwhelming her pride. “Please,” she tried again, softly this time. “I need you to fuck me.”

The man shook his head. “It’s still not slutty enough,” he said. “Not needy enough. Beg like you’re an insatiable little whore who can’t think about anything except cock. Be careful with your words, as I’m only giving you one more shot.”

Emma closed her eyes for a moment, the ache pushing past her resistance. She could risk feeling like this for the rest of the day and beyond, even as the words she was about to speak nauseated her. “Lease fuck me,” she begged, her voice breaking into a needy whine. “I’m just a desperate whore who needs your powerful cock inside me. I can think, I can’t work, I need you to fill me up and make me cum like the slut I am. Please, Gareth, fuck this horny little whore and cum deep inside my pussy.”

Gareth grinned widely and applauded his boss. “That’s much better,” he praised her before slowly making his way over to the table. As he walked, he casually tapped on his smart watch, reactivating Emma’s SmartGag. The gag materialized once more, the white ball swelling rapidly to fill the Chief Trainer’s mouth and stretch her jaw wide again as the straps locked behind her head and under her chin.

“Mmmphhh!” she protested immediately, the sound desperate and muffled as her hands flew to the replaced gag.

The man stopped directly in front of his gagged boss and gripped her hips firmly, prompting Emma to brace her hands on the surface of the desk for balance, her ballet boots keeping her posture precarious as Gareth positioned himself behind her.

Without warning, he thrust forward, his thick cock sliding deep into the wet folds of her pussy in one rough motion. Emma moaned behind the gag, a strained “Mmmphhh!” emerging while her body rocked forward from the force. The fullness overwhelmed her instantly, the stretch perfect after hours of denial, her inner walls clenching greedily around him.

Gareth set a punishing rhythm from the start, his hips slamming against her ass with each deep thrust. The desk creaked beneath the pair while Emma’s small breasts pressed against the cool surface, her nipples hardening further from the friction. He gripped her dark hair for leverage, pulling her head back slightly as he pounded harder, the angle driving his cock against spots inside of her that made her thighs tremble uncontrollably.

The pleasure built fast and furious, every stroke pushing her thighs higher as she made desperate gasps through her nose. Gareth’s free hand slid down to grip her hips tighter, his fingers digging into the latex as he fucked her with relentless force, the wet sounds of their bodies filling the office.

Emma’s muffled cries rose with each thrust, her pussy fluttering around him as her climax approached rapidly. Gareth groaned low in his throat, his pace turning erratic as he neared his own release. He slammed in deep one final time, burying himself completely as hot pulses of cum filled her, the warmth triggering her own world-shattering orgasm.

The release crashed through the gagged brunette like a storm, intense and all-consuming, her body convulsing around him while waves of pleasure rolled from her core. Her pussy milked every drop, the sensation prolonged and overwhelming as her legs shook in the locked boots, muffled screams escaping the gag in desperate bursts.

Gareth held his boss in place until the aftershocks faded, his breath heavy against her back. He slid out slowly, the warmth of his release trickling down her thigh as he rubbed his softening cock against the latex covering her ass cheeks, cleaning himself off with mocking strokes.

He tucked himself back into his pants and stepped away, whistling a triumphant tune as he headed for the door. The latch clicked shut behind him, leaving Emma twitching and exhausted over the desk, her body spent from the while climax she had been subjected to as the lingering warmth between her legs slowly began to fade.

❖

The clock on the wall read 17:02 in Carlos Mendez’s office as he leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head as he finished reviewing the final report of the day. The office felt quiet, as most of the executives had already left, leaving the area outside silent. He saved the document and closed his laptop, satisfied with the progress of several key projects.

A knock sounded at the door. Carlos glanced up and called out in his thick accent. “Come in.”

The door opened, and Emma tottered inside, her posture still forced into that careful balance by the white laced-up boots she had worn all day. The white latex corsetted full-body catsuit remained in place, the built-in structure framing her bare breasts through their individual circular openings while additional gaps left her shaved pussy and ass completely bare. The large white ball gag had receded now the workday had ended, leaving her mouth free, and the new SmartCollar had shifted into a subtle bump at the back of her neck.

Carlos’s eyes traveled over her slowly, taking in the way the corset accentuated her waist and presented her chest. He leaned forward with a wide grin. “Thank you for coming, Ms. Duke,” he said warmly. “I had almost forgotten what you looked like without a gag stretching that pretty mouth.”

Emma stood just inside the door, her hands hanging at her sides while she met his gaze with controlled frustration. The day had left her exhausted, the lingering effects of the collar’s earlier surge still fresh in her memory. While the horniness had faded into nothingness, she couldn’t avoid thinking about what she had to do to get rid of it. This had to stop.

The director’s eyes drifted lower, settling on her exposed pussy. He noticed the faint streaks of dried cum along the inside of the woman’s thighs and felt an internal grin spread across his thoughts. Someone had enjoyed her thoroughly. He kept his expression nonchalant and leaned back again. “Have you had a productive day?” he asked casually, as if discussing the weather.

The brunette trainer shifted her weight carefully. She ignored the implication in her boss’s glance and focused on why she had come. “Not quite,” she said with a stubborn growl. “I need to discuss something with you. It’s urgent, sir.”

Carlos gestured to the chair opposite his desk with a lazy wave of his hand. “Sit down,” he offered. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Emma accepted his offer; thankfully, the chair was rid of the large dildo it had occupied earlier, and she took a seat. “I want to request a change of handlers for my uniform requirements, sir,” she said directly. “It would make more sense for you to take over, since you’re my direct boss. Gareth and Luke are my subordinates, and the current setup is creating conflicts in the department.”

The director raised an eyebrow and folded his hands on the desk, considering her words. “Conflicts?” he questioned. “That is surprising. Judging by the reports I have been receiving from Mr. Olsen, your arrangement sounds like a resounding success. You disagree?”

Emma leaned forward in her chair, the relief of not standing painfully on her toes moving through her body. She met Carlos’s gaze steadily. “I do disagree,” she replied firmly. “Gareth and Luke have been overstepping their roles, Gareth in particular. The control they have over the SmartGag and SmartCollar is affecting my ability to lead sessions effectively. Clients notice the distractions, and it undermines the department’s performance.”

Carlos tapped his fingers on the desk, his eyes resting on her exposed tits for a moment before returning to her frustrated face. “Mr. Olsen’s reports paint a different picture,” he said slowly. “He mentions high client satisfaction and notes your adaptability to the new systems. Perhaps the issue lies elsewhere.”

The trainer’s jaw tightened, but she kept her voice level in front of her boss. “With respect, sir, Gareth’s reports are biased,” she countered. “He benefits from the current arrangement. If you took over as handler, the oversight would come from someone impartial, my direct supervisor. It would eliminate any perceived abuse of power from my subordinates and allow me to focus fully on training.”

The overweight man leaned back again, his chair creaking under his weight as he considered her argument. He glanced back at the streaks on her thighs once more, his internal amusement growing, although his expression remained thoughtful. “I am very busy, Ms. Duke,” he said after a pause. “Managing the daily details of one subordinate’s uniform and devices is not something I have time for.”

Emma pressed her advantage, sensing a small opening. “It wouldn’t require much of your time,” she insisted. “A quick approval or adjustment in the morning, perhaps. The efficiency gain for the department would outweigh the minor effort. Please, sir. Perhaps we could hold a trial period to prove it works better.”

Carlos studied her for a long moment, his eyes unreadable as he weighed her words. Finally, he picked up his smartwatch from the desk and tapped the screen several times. “A trial period, huh? Very well,” he conceded at last. “I will trial taking control for one week.”

Emma smiled widely. “Thank you, sir.” Finally, Gareth would be unable to control her torment any longer.

The director raised an eyebrow. “But understand this, Ms. Duke,” he continued. “I have particular tastes, and I expect full compliance without any excuses or complaints. If you cannot handle my directives, we will revert back to your previous handlers immediately.”

The brunette nodded quickly, relief washing through her despite the warning. “I can handle it,” she assured him. Whatever he had in mind had to be better than that piece of shit, Gareth, having control. “Thank you, sir.”

The large man completed the transfer with a final tap, the watch beeping softly in confirmation. “It is done,” he announced. “Permissions for your SmartGag and SmartCollar now route exclusively to me. Gareth and Luke’s control has been revoked.”

The brunette felt a faint warmth at the back of her neck as the devices registered the change, the bump settling with a subtle shift. She exhaled slowly, the shift in control feeling like a small victory after the day’s humiliations.

Carlos set the watch down and leaned forward once more. “Report to me first thing tomorrow morning before you begin sessions,” he instructed. “We will review the new routine then.”

Emma rose from the chair carefully, the boots forcing her movements into deliberate steps. “Understood,” she replied. “I appreciate the opportunity.”

She turned and headed for the door, her mind already turning to how this change might restore some balance to her work. As she made her way out of the office and toward the elevator, her own watch buzzed with a message from an old friend. It was Caitlin: “We need to meet. Can you run by my apartment after work tonight?” The last time she saw her former best friend, it didn’t end well. What had changed? A soft smile crossed the trainer’s lips. Was this the opening she needed to change things? With a new bounce in her en pointe steps, Emma tottered into the elevator, ready to get changed and head home with a renewed optimism.

❖

The elevator to the sprawling apartment building hummed softly as it carried Emma upward, the ride giving her a moment to steady her nerves before the doors opened on Caitlin’s floor. She had changed out of the humiliating work uniform before leaving the CuffTech building, opting for her simple dark jeans that sat low on her hips and a loose gray hoodie that hid the curves she had been showing off all day. Comfortable sneakers replaced the torturous boots, a small mercy that let her walk without the constant agony and threat of falling.

She paused outside the apartment door, her hand hovering before she knocked on the surface with three firm raps. The message from Caitlin had arrived unexpectedly, and the chief trainer had no idea why her friend would follow up on their coffee shop encounter after the way it ended. Emma waited patiently.

The door opened, and the brunette’s eyes widened at the sight before her. Caitlin stood in the threshold wearing only a crotchless black g-string that left her pussy fully exposed to anyone who could have walked by in the corridor, the thin straps framing her hips while black fishnet stockings rose to her upper thighs, held up by garter clips. Tall red platform heels lifted her posture provocatively, and her enhanced D-cup breasts remained fully bare, with clover clamps tightened against her nipples painfully. Her blonde hair fell in smooth waves, framing a face that carried subtle enhancements: plumper lips and higher cheekbones that gave her an exaggerated beauty.

Caitlin smiled brightly, her voice carrying loud enough to echo back in the apartment. “Hi Emma, it’s so great to see you.” Something about her voice sounded off, as if she were putting on a performance for whoever was inside her home.

The blonde leaned forward and wrapped Emma in a quick hug, her clamped breasts pressing briefly against the sweater. As they embraced, Caitlin whispered directly in her old friend’s ear. “Marcus’s boss, Frank, dropped by unexpectedly. Just play along.”

Caitlin pulled back and raised her voice again. “Come on in. Marcus is dying to see you again.”

Emma nodded with a forced smile and stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind her. The apartment opened into a modest living room with warm furniture and a soft rug in the center. Marcus sat in an armchair near the window, his casual shirt unbuttoned at the collar while he chatted with a broad-shouldered man on the sofa. The stranger wore an expensive suit, his tie loosened as he nursed a drink.

Caitlin walked straight to her husband without hesitation and dropped to her knees between his legs. Emma raised an eyebrow as she noticed the man’s cock was already free from his pants, as if she had interrupted the activity with her knock. The blonde took the member into her mouth with practiced ease as the conversation continued around her.

The man on the sofa turned his attention to Emma, his eyes traveling over her casual clothes before settling on her face. “And who’s this pretty creature?” he asked with clear interest.

Marcus glanced up, his hand resting lightly on Caitlin’s head as she worked. “This is Emma,” he said evenly. “A free woman I went to school with years ago. She works at CuffTech now.”

Frank set his drink down and stood, crossing the room with three confident strides until he stood close to Emma. “Frank Marsh,” he introduced himself. “Chief Technology Officer of ControlCorp. I don’t see many free women around these days, especially ones who work for such a highly regarded company as CuffTech.”

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to cup her breast through the hoodie without asking, as if it was how he naturally greeted women. Emma swatted the touch away sharply, her eyes flashing with anger.

Frank chuckled at the swat and took a step back, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he looked the chief trainer over once more. “This one’s a feisty one,” he told Marcus with a grin. Marcus nodded affirmatively as he enjoyed his wife’s mouth around his shaft. “Let me know when she’s finally on the auction block. I love my slaves with a bit of fire in them.”

He nodded his head to his subordinate before giving Emma one final leering glance, then turned and let himself out of the apartment.

Marcus waited until the door clicked shut and the sound of footsteps faded down the hall. When he was sure the coast was clear, he pulled Caitlin’s mouth gently off his cock and helped her to her feet. “Sorry about that, babe,” he told her quietly. “I had no idea Frank was going to drop by uninvited.”

The blonde nodded and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “You can go put some clothes back on now,” he added softly.

She gave her husband a small smile and headed toward the bedroom, her heels clicking on the floor while the painful clamps on her nipples swayed with each step.

The black-haired, good-looking man turned his attention to Emma and gestured to the sofa. “Take a seat,” he offered. “It’s great to see you after all these years, and great to see that you’re still a free woman. I imagine it’s not been easy.”

Emma lowered herself onto the sofa cushion recently vacated by the obnoxious man who had just left, crossing her legs as she settled in. “It hasn’t been easy for sure,” she replied with a tired sigh. “The world keeps changing. Work used to feel like the one place where I had real control, but lately it’s starting to feel like everything is slipping away.”

Marcus nodded sympathetically and took a final sip from his beer bottle before placing it on the table beside him. “I get that,” he said. Things have shifted a lot even since we were kids. Every day, Caitlin and I find ourselves navigating new rules that weren’t there before. It can be exhausting.”

The brunette leaned back against the cushion. “You seem to have found a rhythm at least,” she observed. “I mean, it’s gross as fuck, and Caitlin mentioned she needed to get enhancements to appease your work. That must have been tough on her.”

The man glanced toward the bedroom door where Caitlin had disappeared, his expression softening as he lowered his head. “It was tough on both of us,” he admitted quietly. “The enhancements were Frank’s idea. He said no employee of his was going to have a flat-chested, plain-Jane wife. Caitlin hated it, and I felt guilty giving her no choice.”

The man paused and met Emma’s gaze directly. “What about you? What’s it been like at CuffTech these days?”

Emma exhaled slowly, the weight of the day fresh in her memory as she considered how much to reveal. “It’s getting worse,” she said finally. “They rolled out this new uniform policy for all female employees. I can only wear items specifically made by the company from now on, as chosen by my direct supervisor. I’ve been forced to wear a SmartGag controlled by my handler at work. It’s been a nightmare, to be honest.” She said, leaving out the more humiliating details.

Marcus leaned forward in his chair, his expression turning serious as he processed her words. “Caitlin told me about how bad things had gotten at CuffTech,” he said quietly. “I’m not surprised, to be honest. The rumors have been circulating for months.”

The woman’s brow furrowed, her curiosity piqued as she shifted on the sofa. “What kind of rumors?” she asked.

The man glanced at the front door, as if he was expecting Frank to walk back through it. “I work for ControlCorp,” he whispered. “We develop most of the government’s tracking and compliance software. Lately, we’ve been collaborating with CuffTech on integrating their hardware with our systems.”

Emma shuddered and leaned forward. “Collaborating on what exactly?” she pressed.

Marcus hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I’ve heard things from various meetings,” he said carefully. “The government and CuffTech have been working on tools that would effectively enslave free women in everything but name. They wouldn’t have an official owner, but their lives would be controlled so absolutely that an exemption license would become obsolete.”

The slave trainer’s breath caught in her throat, the words hitting her hard. “How?” she asked. How was that possible?

The man nervously rubbed his hands together. “I don’t know yet,” he admitted. “But Frank told me last week that they had just signed a major deal with CuffTech, and I would bet my bottom dollar that it has something to do with the rumors. If we let this go too far, it will be too late to fight back.”

Emma’s heart raced as the implications sank in. “We need to stop it, Marcus,” she exclaimed. “I can’t be a slave, and if what you’re saying is true, I’m at risk. We can’t let this happen.”

Marcus nodded firmly. “I agree, and it’s not just you; every free woman would be at risk,” he corrected her. “That’s why I’ve been working my way into the inner circle at ControlCorp. It’s why I have to treat Caitlin so abhorrently in public, as much as I hate it.” He paused momentarily. “But I can’t do it alone. I need a second pair of eyes inside CuffTech. You’re in a unique position there, Emma, and with your access, you could find out exactly what they’re building.”

The brunette trainer sat back. She knew the risks of spying on her employer; it would end her career and freedom in an instant if anyone found out. However, the alternative would also lead to inevitable slavery. She had to accept. “I’ll do it,” she said. “Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do what I can.”

Caitlin returned from the bedroom wearing a low-cut pink dress that dipped deeply between her enhanced breasts, the fabric clinging to her body while the hem stopped mid-thigh. Four-inch black heels lifted her steps, the outfit still provocative but far more respectable than the practically naked display she had worn for Frank’s benefit. She carried a fresh beer in one hand, offering it to Marcus with a small smile before standing before Emma.

The blonde glanced between her husband and their guest, sensing the serious tone in the room. “I’m about to serve dinner,” she said lightly. “I made enough for three if you want to stay and eat, Emma. It’s nothing fancy, but I’ve become quite the chef.”

Emma felt a genuine smile spread across her face, the offering bringing a brief sense of normalcy to her life. “That would be great,” she replied warmly. “I’d love to stay.”

Caitlin nodded and headed away from the pair, her heels carrying her back toward the kitchen as she worked on finishing dinner.

Marcus took a swig from the fresh beer and leaned back in his chair, his gaze focused on Emma’s plain appearance. “So tell me,” he said conversationally. “What’s a day in the life of a slave trainer really like these days?”

❖

The key turned in the front door lock with a familiar click as Emma pushed it open and stepped into her penthouse apartment. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her shoulders after the long day, but the evening with Caitlin and Marcus had left her with a surprising sense of lightness. The old animosity from her years of ghosting the pair had entirely vanished over dinner, as they reminisced over the ‘old days.’ She closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment, letting the quiet of her home settle around her.

The events of the day still gnawed at her thoughts, the humiliating uniform, and the recent sexual encounter she had had with her subordinate. Yet the transfer of control from Gareth to Carlos, and the secret alliance with Marcus, offered her real hope, a chance to fight back from the inside. Emma kicked off her sneakers and padded across the marble floor toward the bedroom. She needed sleep.

She entered the spacious bedroom and began undressing, peeling away the gray hoodie, white t-shirt, and dark jeans that felt so comfortable after her eight hours at work. The cool air brushed her skin as she stood in simple underwear for a moment. The chief trainer reached for her black silk pajamas still lying on her bed, the fabric smooth and luxurious against her fingers as she slipped into the shorts and button-up top. The silk material whispered over her curves, a gentle caress that made her all but forget today’s earlier events.

She set her bedside alarm for seven sharp, not wanting to risk being late for work when she needed to report to her boss first thing. The mattress welcomed her tired body, and Emma sank into the pillows with a long exhale. The apartment remained silent around her, the city lights muted through her curtains as sleep pulled her under quickly. It wasn’t long before she completely fell into darkness.

*BUZZ* *BUZZ* *BUZZ*

The insistent buzzing drilled into Emma’s sleep, pulling her slowly from the depths of rest. She groaned softly and reached out blindly, her hand slapping against the nightstand until her fingers found the alarm clock. The first smack missed the button, making the noise continue while she fumbled again, her palm finally connecting to silence the racket with a firm press.

Quiet returned to the bedroom, broken only by Emma’s groan as she lay there for several long moments, unwilling to open her eyes fully. The silk pajamas feel cool and comfortable, the sheets tangled around her legs from her tossing and turning. She stretched one arm overhead, feeling the pull in her shoulders, then extended her legs until her toes pointed, the muscles in her calves tightening pleasantly.

Another stretch followed, deeper this time, Emma’s back arching off the mattress as she worked the stiffness from her body. The brunette rolled onto her side and pushed herself up gradually, the mattress dipping gently under her weight as she swung her legs over the edge. She sat there for a minute, rubbing her eyes with both hands to chase away the last remnants of sleep. Something felt slightly off, a vague discomfort she couldn’t quite place, like an itch just out of reach or a word on the tip of her tongue.

Emma rose from the bed and walked toward her ensuite bathroom, her bare feet trotting silently across the carpet as she prepared to wash herself and start the day. She pushed open the bathroom door and stepped inside, the familiar space welcoming her with its marble counters and wide mirror above the sink.

The brunette settled at the sink and turned on the faucet, letting the warm water run over her hands while she reached for her toothbrush. The steam began to rise gently as she glanced up at her reflection, ready to meet the day with renewed optimism.

Until, suddenly, her heart skipped a beat in abject horror.

Emma stared back at her reflection and instantly thought that she must still be asleep, that this wasn’t real. The face in the mirror was undoubtedly hers; the same blue eyes, the same brunette hair messy from her recent sleep, the same familiar features she had known her entire life. But those lips, they were something else entirely.

Overnight, they had swollen to an impossible size, easily three times larger than her normal lips, protruding into an exaggerated, obscene pout that dominated the lower half of her face. A bright glossy red color coated the perfectly, the shade vivid and unnatural, as if they had been painted with a high-shine lacquer designed to draw every eye. Their appearance was in stark contrast to the rest of her natural face.

The brunette brought a trembling hand up to touch them, her fingers brushing the glossy surface. The lips yielded slightly under pressure, warm and unusually responsive in a way that sent an unwelcome tingle through her. She pressed harder, testing the reality, but the plumpness remained, the red flawless and unchanging.

In a panic, Emma grabbed a damp washcloth from above the sink. She scrubbed vigorously, the rough fabric scraping against her new, swollen flesh as she tried desperately to wipe away whatever product had given her new lips their shine. Perhaps it was an illusion, and when they were unpainted, they would return to their previous shape. However, her attempt failed miserably. Once she had finished, her lips remained perfectly bright red, still as glossy as ever, and unchanged in size.

The woman dropped the cloth into the sink and backed away until her hips pressed against the back wall. The reflection mocked her, those obscene lips parting slightly as she gasped, the pout making even her shock look provocative. She touched them again, couldn’t resist, tracing the cupid-bow curve with careful fingers, the glossy texture smooth and warm, the plumpness making her mouth feel heavy and foreign.

The chief trainer reached out to the back of her neck and slid her finger along the bump that remained from the invisible collar. Carlos had told her that the collar would remain active at all times. Was this one of the effects? Had Carlos done this to her as she slept, as he prepared her for his ‘particular tastes?’

Panic coiled in her chest as the implications sank in. If the collar could alter her lips this dramatically overnight, what else awaited? What else was that damn band capable of, and what else did Carlos have in mind for her?

The woman stood frozen, staring at the slutty stranger in the glass, dread settling deep as she realized what this meant. She was a guinea pig for CuffTech’s new developments, and time was running out to save herself.

End of Chapter Four