Chapter Seven

Emma stood outside the lavish apartment door on Friday evening, the long black latex trenchcoat she wore brushing her calves with every nervous shift of her weight. The six-inch black strappy heels on her feet made her legs feel endlessly long, the thin straps digging into her skin just enough to remind her she was already surrendering control before she had even stepped inside. The dark-haired woman raised her hand, hesitated for a fraction of a second, then knocked. The sound echoed down the quiet hallway like a final warning she could still turn back from, but she knew she couldn’t. One wrong move and everything she had risked with Marcus would come crashing down.

The door opened almost immediately. Emma’s subordinate, Luke, stood there in an ironed button-down shirt and dark jeans, his expression calm even as his eyes widened when they swept over the woman standing before him. He stepped aside without a word, letting her enter the spacious modern apartment. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a glittering view of the city lights, but Emma barely noticed them. Her pulse hammered in her ears as the door clicked shut behind her, sealing her inside with the man who now held her future in his hands.

Luke turned to face her fully, his gaze steady. “Drop the coat.”

Emma shuddered. She had known this moment was coming, yet hearing the command out loud sent a jolt of panic through her. This is really happening. I’m actually going to stand here in front of him without the coat like some obedient pet. She opened her fat-lipped mouth to protest, the words already forming on her tongue, but she swallowed them. The heavy material parted, then slid from her shoulders in one smooth motion, pooling at her feet. She stood completely naked before the man, the air of the apartment brushing over her bare skin, her enhanced breasts rising and falling with each shallow breath, her bright red lips pressed in a humiliated, angry line.

“Was this really necessary?” Emma finally managed to say as she folded her arms over her bare chest instinctively. “I don’t understand why I couldn’t just undress when I reached your apartment, instead of walking down the street looking like a slave hooker.”

Luke walked a slow circle around her, his eyes lingering on the synthetic curve of her arm-covered DD-cup breasts and the way it contrasted with the inward shape of her waist. “I needed to ensure that you were committed to obeying me this weekend, Emma. If you had shown up dressed and argued about stripping once you were safe inside, I would have known you weren’t ready for this. One slip-up in front of my parents, and the entire world will know about your little espionage mission. I’m not joking around here.”

Emma’s arms tightened across her chest, the motion only pressing her enhanced breasts higher and making the deep valley between them more pronounced. He’s actually enjoying this, the fucker. The way he’s circling me as if he owns me. She forced her voice to stay level even though her pulse raced a million miles an hour. “Your parents aren’t even here yet. You could have let me keep some dignity until they arrived.”

The man stopped directly in front of her. His eyes continued to drift down to the full, rounded swells of her chest, and then lower, taking in the smooth bare skin of her midriff and the tidy slit of her bare pussy. “Dignity is a luxury you don’t get this weekend, I’m afraid,” he said quietly. “My parents are very traditional, especially when it comes to young slaves. They will expect absolute obedience from you the moment they walk through that door. I’m going to have to do things I’m not comfortable with, and you’re going to have to obey without question. No hesitation. No backtalk. No trying to negotiate your way out of it.”

Emma’s glossy red lips parted, the pout naturally returning the instant she stopped speaking. Things he’s not comfortable with? What the hell does that even mean? She thought as she swallowed hard. “What kind of things?”

Luke’s expression remained steady, but he didn’t answer the question. Instead, he gestured to the open floor space in front of him. “Drop to your knees, Bambi. Right here.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, her arms still folded over her chest. “Excuse me? Bambi?”

“That’s your new name, now,” Luke said with a matter-of-fact tone. “At least, it’s your name for the weekend. My parents believe you should rename a slave the moment you receive her, and Emma isn’t very ‘slave-like.’”

The chief slave trainer groaned. She hated his parents already, and they hadn’t even arrived yet.

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “Now kneel. I won’t say it again.”

Emma’s jaw tightened, and the glossy red swell of her lips pressed together in a brief flash of defiance. Bambi? What kind of fucking name is that? The word felt degrading, stripping away another layer of the identity she had fought so hard to keep over the years. She wanted to snap back, to tell him exactly where he could shove that new name, but the memory of the blackmail photos kept her silent. With a slow, reluctant breath, she stepped forward and lowered herself to the floor, the tall heels making the motion awkward as her knees met the cold hardwood. The position pushed her enhanced breasts forward, the firm, spherical mounds thrust out as she looked up at her subordinate.

Luke watched her settle onto her knees and gave a small nod of approval, as though she had passed some invisible test. “Good girl, Bambi,” he said patronizingly as he reached out and tilted her head downward, forcing her to glance at the floor. “This is exactly how I want you positioned whenever my parents are in the room. Shoulders back, chest out, eyes down unless I tell you otherwise. They’ll expect a perfectly trained slave, and you’re going to give them one.”

The man stood over her for a long moment, enjoying the sight of the high-ranking manager reduced to a submissive pose for him on his rug. He finally turned and walked toward a wide wooden table, returning with a silver tray that held several items of traditional bondage gear. The metallic clinking of the items within the container sounded ominous as he set the tray down on the coffee table beside the kneeling brunette.

“Since I no longer have the administrative clearance to control your SmartCollar or your gag, I have to ensure you look the part using more conventional methods,” Luke explained while he reached for a wide band of black leather. “My father doesn’t trust the new tech anyway. He’s a little paranoid that the slaves will eventually be able to communicate with each other through their devices and form an uprising. He’s a little out there.”

Emma watched with a sinking feeling as he moved behind her, the leather collar in his hands. He wrapped the strap around her neck and prepared to pull the buckle tight, but the moment the natural material brushed against her skin, a soft shimmering vibration rippled through the air. The leather began to turn gray and brittle, disintegrating into a fine powder that settled over the woman’s bare shoulders and the hardwood floor.

Luke pulled his hands back in shock, staring at the empty space between his fingers. “What the hell was that? Did you just destroy my equipment?”

“It’s the SmartCollar Carlos put on me,” Emma replied with a deep sigh, her voice carrying a trace of bitter satisfaction as she looked at the dust. “He programmed a material ban into the software. My skin is currently allergic to anything other than rubber or latex. Anything else will dissolve on contact.”

The young man let out a low, ironic chuckle and wiped the gray residue from his palms. “Well, that certainly limits my options, but I can work with that,” he grinned as he walked back to his tray. “Carlos really did a number on you with that one, Bambi.”

The man reached down and picked up a thick, tight black latex collar. He moved behind Emma again and wrapped the band around her throat, the rubber fitting snugly against her skin without any of the previous chemical reactions. He pulled the strap tight and clicked the buckle into place, the prominent D-ring at the front resting against her neck.

“Hands behind your back, Bambi,” Luke commanded as he picked up two matching black latex cuffs from the tray.

Emma hesitated for a heartbeat, her mind screaming at her to refuse and retain her pride, but she realized that any resistance now would only prolong the humiliation. She slowly reached back, interlocking her manicured fingers behind her waist. She felt the cool latex wrap around her wrists, followed by the metallic click of a small padlock as Luke secured the cuffs together. He then knelt and applied similar cuffs to her ankles, although these weren’t attached to each other, and were applied to display Emma’s new status.

Urgh, this is it. He has me kneeling and cuffed in his living room. There’s no turning back now. Emma thought as a whirlwind of rage and defeat swirled around her head.

Luke didn’t seem concerned with Emma’s fiery look of fury as he reached back for the tray, picking up a large red ball gag that seemed far too large for a human mouth. He adjusted the thick black straps, testing the buckle before leaning down to look Emma in the eyes.

“Open up,” the man said, his voice dropping into the low, commanding tone of a slave owner.

Emma raised an eyebrow, her red lips parting just enough to show her teeth. “A gag? Seriously? Like I don’t get enough of that at work.”

“Well, that’s precisely why I chose a gag this size. You must be getting used to being gagged by now, Bambi,” Luke replied as he stared at her with an amused expression on his face. “My parents are from a generation that believes a slave should only be heard when her owner permits it. A woman who can talk is a woman who can argue, and they find that incredibly offensive. Besides, the red will look good on you. It matches your lips.”

He didn’t wait for her to continue the argument. He pressed the smooth red sphere against her mouth, the solid weight of the rubber forcing her jaw to stretch wide. Emma let out a muffled groan as the ball slid past her teeth, filling her mouth completely and pinning her tongue to the floor of her jaw. The straps were pulled tight under her ears and buckled behind her head, and she felt the finality of a metal padlock clicking into place against her skull.

“Mmmphhh! Nnnnphhh!” Emma protested, her words mangled by the massive ball that forced her mouth into an eternal, gasping circle. The pressure against the corners of her mouth was intense, stretching her technologically enhanced pout even further and making her face look like a provocative caricature of submission.

“That’s much better,” Luke murmured, his confidence and ego growing now that his boss looked the perfect picture of obedience. “Now you finally look the part. No more snarky comments from you. Just a beautiful, silent pet.”

The young man turned back to the silver tray, his fingers hovering over a pair of small, gleaming gold pieces that resembled delicate jewelry. He picked them up, the tiny gold rings shimmering in the light as he moved back into Emma’s personal space. The chief trainer watched him with wide, apprehensive eyes, her breathing coming in short, muffled gasps through her nose. What else could he possibly need to put on me? I’m already bound and gagged on the floor.

“I almost forgot the finishing touch,” Luke said as he knelt before his undercover slave. “These won’t pierce the skin, but they will look just as realistic as the real thing. You’ll find a constant pressure on your nipples, and they can only be removed with a special tool.”

He reached out and pressed the first gold ring against her left nipple, which was already hard and prominent. Emma jumped, a muffled scream of “Aghhh! Mmmmrphhh!” tearing from her throat as she felt a sudden, sharp pinch. The device used a high-pressure suction combined with a tiny, spring-loaded clamp to stay in place, and the sensation was an intense mixture of pleasure and pain that radiated through her chest. Luke ignored the muffled cries, repeating the process on her right side until both gold rings were securely attached.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked patronizingly as he pulled a fine gold chain from the tray. He clipped the ends of the chain to the rings, linking her breasts together in a decorative display. “Now you look perfect.”

A sudden, forceful knock at the apartment door made Luke jump, his eyes widening as he checked his watch. “They’re early,” he muttered, his voice laced with a sudden, genuine panic. “They weren’t supposed to be here for another hour yet.”

The man moved with frantic speed, reaching for the small padlock that held Emma’s wrists together. He clicked it open, allowing the cuffs to stay freely around each wrist as her arms fell to her sides. “Stay on your hands and knees, Bambi! If you even think about standing up or defying my orders, I will make sure those files are public before my parents even leave the city.”

He reached for a black latex leash sitting on the silver tray and clipped it to the D-ring at the front of the collar. He gave the leash a firm, decisive tug, forcing Emma to lean forward and catch herself on her palms. I can’t believe this is happening. I’m actually going to be led around on a leash like a dog by this asshole.

“Stay by my side,” Luke whispered, his hand tightening on the leash as he walked toward the entrance. “And remember, you are a silent, obedient pet. Stay in character all weekend, and you’ll be fine.”

Emma lowered her head in shame, her big lips wrapped painfully around the red ball as she crawled forward on the rug. She had no idea if she had made the right choice agreeing to this charade, but she did know that this was going to be the longest two days of her life.

❖

Luke gave the leash a light tug and started toward the front door, the black latex lead pulling Emma forward on all fours across the wooden floor. She moved with him, her knees sliding smoothly, wrists placing one hand in front of the other to keep up. The gold chain between her nipple rings swayed gently, the constant light tug keeping her aware of the new decorations her fake Master had added. This is insane. I’m crawling naked and gagged through Luke’s apartment like an actual pet while his parents wait on the other side of that door. The thought burned in her mind, but she kept moving, the large red gag stretching her jaw wide as she clamped her teeth around it.

Luke paused just inside the entrance, glancing down at the brunette one last time. “Remember, Bambi. Eyes down, stay right beside me, and do not make a single sound unless I tell you to.” He reached for the handle and pulled the door open.

George and Fiona Daniels stood in the hallway, both smiling warmly as they saw their son. George, a tall man in his sixties with salt-and-pepper hair and a well-tailored jacket, extended his hand first. “Luke, my boy! It’s good to see you.” The two men shook hands firmly, George clapping his son on the shoulder with genuine affection. “You look well. How is life treating you at CuffTech?”

Fiona stepped forward next, wrapping her arms around Luke in a warm, lingering hug that spoke of a mother who missed her son dearly. “We’ve been counting down the days,” she said, pulling back just enough to look at him properly. “The drive was lovely, but I kept telling your father we should have left earlier so we could spend more time catching up tonight.”

George laughed heartily. “I had to threaten to gag the bitch just to make her shut up,” he brazenly told his son before smacking his wife on the ass, eliciting a yelp from her mouth.

Fiona let out a playful squeal and swatted her husband’s arm in mock protest, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “George, behave yourself in front of the boy,” she chided, though the smile on her face showed she was far from truly upset, almost as if the way he spoke about her was a normal part of life. She smoothed the front of her short, translucent red dress and stepped into the apartment, looking around with open approval. “This place looks even nicer than the pictures you sent us, Luke. You’ve done well for yourself.”

George’s gaze finally drifted downward, settling on the silent, naked figure waiting on her hands and knees just behind his son’s legs. A slow, appreciative whistle escaped the older man’s lips, and he took a step closer, crouching down to get a good look at the brunette as he stroked her hair as if she were a literal animal.

“Well, look, I have to say, you’ve certainly outdone yourself,” George remarked, returning upright. “I knew you had been looking for something special, but this specimen is truly remarkable. The modifications are world-class. That waist is so narrow I could probably fit both my hands around it, and those tits are just begging for attention.”

Fiona moved to her husband’s side, her eyes scanning Emma’s gagged face. “She’s a bit more enhanced than I expected you to go for, Luke. But she is undeniably beautiful. Was she trained at CuffTech?”

“Yes, Mom. I had been overseeing her training myself,” Luke replied, his hand tightening on the leash to make Emma shift her weight. “Her former Master couldn’t pay the training fee on time, so she became property of the company. I managed to purchase her at a discount rate. Her name is Bambi.”

Fiona’s gaze lingered on the way the gold chain connected Emma’s nipple rings, the delicate links swaying with each breath the kneeling woman took. “Bambi suits her,” she said with a soft, approving nod. “Such a pretty little thing. And those lips… they look positively made for service. I think you chose well, Luke.”

George straightened fully, still wearing the broad, satisfied grin as he looked down at Emma once more. “She’s a fine example of what modern technology can do. I’ve seen plenty of girls at auction lately, but none with this level of… refinement. The chest, the lips, and even how she holds herself together on all fours. I’m impressed, son.”

Emma kept her head lowered exactly as instructed, her fat lips stretched wide around the gag, producing only a soft, wet “Mmmphhh…” when she tried to swallow her building saliva. They’re talking about me like I’m a new car they’re inspecting at a dealership. George just stroked my hair like I’m some kind of dog he’s approving for purchase. I feel sick. The internal thoughts flared hot and sharp, a fresh wave of humiliation rolling through her as she remained perfectly still on her hands and knees beside Luke’s leg.

Luke gave the leash another tug, guiding Emma back as the family moved deeper into the living room. “Let me get you both settled,” he said smoothly, his tone relaxed and proud. “Dad, you still take a cold beer, right? Mom, I have that white wine you like chilling in the fridge.”

George settled onto the large sofa with an age-related groan, pulling Fiona down beside him so she could cuddle against his side. “A beer sounds perfect, son, but don’t worry about a drink for your Mom. She snores when she’s had a glass of wine, and I want to get a good night’s sleep tonight.”

Luke chuckled and released the handle of the leash, allowing it to drop to the floor. He walked over to the silver tray from earlier and slipped a rubber strap through a slit at the base. He then walked over to his undercover slave and placed the tray on her back, wrapping the strap around her waist and buckling it at the front to ensure it stays in place. “Bambi, fetch two beers from the fridge,” he said before his lips pressed against her ear, his tone dropping to a whisper. “Remember your place, Emma. Stay on your hands and knees.”

The weight of the tray felt invasive against the bare skin of her back as the rubber strap cinched around her narrow waist. Emma let out a muffled, quiet protest of “Mmmph-nnph!” but she didn’t hesitate to obey the command. She turned away from the couch and began the journey toward the kitchen. She was acutely aware of George’s eyes following the sway of her round ass, and the realization that she was performing as a literal serving tray for her subordinate’s parents sent a wave of heat to her cheeks.

This better be worth it. Marcus better get what he needs from that flash drive, and fast, she thought to herself as she crawled toward the kitchen.

Two minutes later, the faint sounds of palms and knees meeting the hardwood marked her return from the kitchen. Emma moved with a forced carefulness, her focus entirely on the two glass bottles resting on the tray attached to her back. She knew if she dropped the bottle or spilled a single drop of beer, there would be hell to pay, and she wasn’t prepared to let that happen, no matter how humiliating the experience felt.

Emma entered the living room and navigated toward the center of the seating area, her head remaining bowed, the gold chain between her breasts clicking softly against her skin with every cautious shift of her weight. She came to a halt directly in front of George, her palms pressing into the rug as she waited for the older man to acknowledge her presence.

The older man reached out with a casual motion and plucked one of the cold beers from the tray with his right hand, his left hand casually caressing the gagged brunette’s smooth ass as he did. He used a small metal opening from his pocket to pop the cap. “Excellent work, Bambi,” he said with an appreciative chuckle before taking a long, satisfied sip. “She’s quite stable, Luke. I’ve seen my fair share of slaves who couldn’t keep a tray level if their lives depended on it, but she moves like she was born for the floor.”

Luke reached out and took the second bottle, his free hand reaching around the front to unclasp the tray straps before his meaty fingers absently groped her overinflated chest. He picked up the trailing leash again and pulled it firmly to ensure his boss crawled closer to him. “She’s been trained by the best, Dad,” he grinned, pulling the lead even firmer. Emma shuffled on her hands and knees until she was positioned directly between the young man’s spread legs. Luke reached down and began to absently stroke her dark hair, his fingers moving through the strands with a possessive, affectionate motion.

Luke kept his fingers moving slowly through Emma’s hair while he took a long pull from the beer bottle. He then took a grip of her hair and pulled upward, eliciting a gagged moan as he brought her up fully to her knees. The young man reached around and fondled Emma’s large, naked breasts, twisting the ‘pierced’ nipple until her eyes watered. What the fuck is he doing? Emma thought to herself. His parents are already buying it, without him groping my fucking tits!

George chuckled at his son’s actions before taking another sip of his beer. “You really have settled down here nicely, son. I remember when you first started at CuffTech, and you swore you’d never keep a full-time girl. Look at you now.”

Fiona nestled closer to her husband, one hand resting on his crotch while her eyes drifted over Emma’s exposed form with open appreciation. “One of the reasons your Dad wanted to visit was because he was determined to find you a slave of your own. Looks like you beat him to it.”

Emma bit firmly against her gag, wanting nothing more than to snap Luke’s hands off as he groped her openly in front of his parents. Her eyes widened as she felt an erection forming against her back. The asshole was getting turned on by this.

Luke gave Emma’s left nipple one final firm pinch before releasing her breasts and letting his hand rest on the back of her neck instead. He kept her pulled closer against him, the hard line of his erection now unmistakable where it pressed into her spine through his jeans. “She’s still a work in progress, but I know Bambi can’t wait to show you both how obedient she is this weekend.”

George set his beer down on the side table and stretched his legs out in front of him, looking perfectly at ease. “Speaking of this weekend, your mother and I didn’t just come up here for a simple family visit. We’re actually in town for the annual slave fair on Sunday. It’s the biggest one of the year, and it’s where I planned to surprise you and buy you a slave of your own. It’ll be even better now that you’ve got Bambi to bring along.”

Fiona’s eyes lit up with excitement as she squeezed her husband’s thigh. “We’ve been planning the trip for months. There are going to be auctions, training demonstrations, market stalls, and some of the most creative games they’ve ever put together.”

Luke’s fingers tightened slightly in Emma’s hair, a silent reminder for her to stay quiet and composed. “The slave fair? I hadn’t realized that was this weekend. Bambi and I would be honored to join you both. I think it’ll be a great experience.”

Emma’s mind reeled behind the gag. The slave fair? CuffTech sponsored the event and had a huge presence throughout; what if someone recognizes me? Emma shuddered at the thought of a colleague seeing her naked and gagged like this at a public event. She’d never be able to live it down.

“The exhibitions are the best part, son, especially the endurance trials where they test just how much a slave can take,” George said, leaning back as his eyes danced with a predatory glee that Emma usually only saw in the most depraved clients at the intake center. “I am eager to see how this little pet of yours handles the crowd, as a girl with modifications this extreme is usually a crowd favorite, and I would bet a year’s salary that she would turn every head in the pavilion.”

Emma felt a cold shiver trace her spine as her mind raced with images of the CuffTech PR team and procurement officers who would be patrolling those very aisles. If Gareth or Carlos sees me there, the blackmail will be the least of my problems, she told herself.

Fiona reached out and ran a manicured nail along the edge of the red ball gag, tracing the way Emma’s mouth was pinned back by the rubber. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a slut wear a gag as good as hers,” she chuckled playfully. “Those lips were built for it.”

The conversation drifted on for another hour with the same casual ownership, George and Fiona trading stories about past slave fairs while Luke kept one hand on Emma’s neck and the other occasionally squeezing her breast, each touch sending a rush of humiliated heat through her body as she remained kneeling between his legs like the perfect family pet they now believed her to be.

❖

The Saturday morning sun warmed the downtown sidewalks as Luke led the way through the busy shopping district, the black latex leash taut while Emma crawled beside him on all fours. A tight latex harness circled the base of her breasts, lifting and presenting them with every shift of her body, while a thin strand ran down between her legs and nestled deep between her pussy folds, creating an unrelenting cameltoe wedgie that split around the thick tail plug buried in her ass before it continued up her back. She was barefoot, a chain connecting her ankle cuffs to the strap of her red ball gag, forcing her feet to arch tightly against her ass and pulling her head back so she could not lower her chin. The position kept her gaze fixed forward, her bright red lips stretched wide around the gag, and her enhanced chest thrust out beneath her. This is worse than anything I was subjected to in the office. I’m being paraded on a public street while my own subordinate holds the leash and his parents stroll along like it’s the most normal family outing in the world.

George and Fiona walked a few steps behind, George’s arm looped casually around his wife’s waist. Fiona looked elegant in her knee-length red leather dress, but the bright red ring gag strapped between her teeth turned every attempted word into a garbled “Ahhnn… mmmphhh.” George kept her gagged in crowded spaces exactly for this reason: to stop her from saying anything that might get him in trouble. He patted her ass affectionately as they paused at a shop window displaying high-end leather goods. “See anything you like in there, darling?” he asked with a grin.

Fiona leaned closer to the glass, her eyes bright with interest as she pointed at a pair of red leather wrist cuffs inside. “Mmm-hmmph… ahhhnnn,” she managed, the ring gag turning the words into wet sounds that made her sound eager and helpless at the same time. George chuckled and gave her ass another firm squeeze, clearly enjoying the way the gag kept his wife’s responses limited and feminine.

Luke kept walking at an easy pace, the leash in his left hand, while Emma crawled beside him. Other slaves moved at her eye level all around them, some on simple leashes, others carrying shopping bags in their mouths, or wearing even more degrading harnesses, but none drew the same lingering stares that Emma did. People slowed their steps, eyes tracing the way her face was forced to stare dead ahead, showing off her gagged mouth and obscenely full lips to the world. They’re all fucking staring, she thought to herself. Every single person on the street can see exactly how ridiculous I look, and how the chain is locking my body into this humiliating pose.

The group paused again at another large storefront. George’s attention locked onto a bright pink leather collar displayed in the window of a shop called ‘Leather and Leashes.’ The word PET was spelled out across the front in sparkling rhinestones. The older man pointed at it with clear enthusiasm. “Now that would look perfect on Bambi,” he said, turning to Luke. “Bright color, nice and eye-catching, and it tells the world what she is. I’ll buy it for her right now if you like, son. My treat.”

“Thanks, Dad. That’s really generous of you, but it won’t be necessary,” Luke said as he shook his head, his lips forming a humored grin. “Bambi has a rare skin condition. She’s allergic to anything that isn’t latex or rubber. Leather would just dissolve the second it touched her skin.”

George’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but the smirk on his face only widened into something almost delighted. “Allergic to everything except latex? Well damn, son, that just keeps getting better and better. It’s like the whore you chose was designed by God to become a perfect fetish toy. Don’t worry, we’ll find plenty for her to wear before the weekend is out.” He gave Luke a solid pat on the back, and the family continued along the sidewalk, George still chuckling to himself at the idea.

Emma crawled steadily beside her ‘Master,’ the chain keeping her head locked high and her gaze fixed straight ahead. The latex strand held tight between her pussy folds rubbed with every forward motion, the constant pressure sending ripples of pleasure down her spine as she lets out a muffled groan.

Shoppers and couples passed by, their eyes staring openly at the bimbo slave crawling on the pavement. To them, she was nothing more than a well-presented slave pet, a pretty piece of property on display for the public. No one recognized the Chief Trainer from CuffTech; she was simply Bambi, crawling obediently at the end of a leash.

They paused at several more windows, George pointing out various items and commenting on how they might suit a slave like her, while Fiona made soft, garbled sounds of agreement through her ring gag. Luke kept the leash at a comfortable length, guiding Emma smoothly along the pavement as her knees moved in steady rhythm.

Eventually, the shopping district gave way to the green paths of the nearby park. Grass replaced concrete under Emma’s hands and knees, the softer surface still doing nothing to lessen the deep humiliation of being led around like an animal. The chain continued to hold her head high while the latex wedgie between her legs kept up its relentless teasing. The pressure in her bladder had been building for the last hour, growing more urgent with every crawling step until it became impossible to ignore anymore. She tried to signal to Luke with a muffled sound, her voice reduced to a desperate “Mmmphhh… nnnnphhh!” through the red gag.

Luke glanced down with a raised eyebrow before his lips split into a wide smile. “What’s that, Bambi? You need to go?” he asked casually, his tone carrying a hint of private amusement. “Then go. You’re out here with nature, and this is where pets do their business.”

Emma froze mid-crawl, every muscle in her body locking up as the meaning of Luke’s words slammed into her. He can’t be serious. He wants me to pee right here on the grass like an actual animal while his parents stand a few feet away? The horror flooded her mind, her face burning beneath the forced upward tilt of her head. The chain kept her chin so high she could not even look down at the ground, forcing her to stare straight ahead at the distant trees while the urgent pressure in her bladder throbbed harder. She tried to protest, a frantic “Mmmnggh nghhhh!” escaping her gagged lips.

Luke gave the leash another patient tug, guiding her a few steps off the main path onto a soft patch of grass. “Come on, Bambi. There’s no need to hold it.”

George and Fiona continued their conversation without missing a beat, George pointing at a nearby fountain while Fiona made agreeable garbled sounds in reply. Neither of them glanced back or reacted at all. To them, this was simply what pets did when nature called.

Emma’s heart banged heavily against her ribs. This is beyond humiliating. I’m the Chief Trainer at CuffTech, and now I’m about to squat and piss on the grass in public. She had no choice. The pressure had become unbearable. With a defeated whimper, she spread her knees wider on the grass, the latex harness strand digging deeper between her pussy folds, and the tail plug shifting inside her asshole. The chain kept her head locked back as the warm stream finally escaped her body and splashed onto the grass beneath her. The sensation of relief mixed with pure mortification, her enhanced breasts swaying slightly beneath her, and the gold chain between her nipple rings tugging with each shaky breath.

Luke stood right beside her, holding the lead loosely, a quiet chuckle escaping him that only his boss could hear. He knew exactly who she really was and how much this moment must be tearing her up inside. His private amusement only made the humiliation sharper.

The stream continued for several long seconds, the grass darkening beneath her. When she finally finished, Emma remained frozen in place, knees spread, and her head forced high. I can’t believe I just did that. In front of them. Like it was nothing, the thought repeated in her mind, but she stayed exactly where she was until Luke gave the leash another tug.

“Good girl,” he applauded her condescendingly. “See? That was easy, wasn’t it?”

George called back over his shoulder without even turning around. “Everything alright back there, son?”

“Perfect, Dad,” Luke answered, already guiding Emma back onto the path. “Bambi just needed a quick break. She’s all set now.”

The family continued their leisurely walk through the park as if nothing unusual had happened at all. Emma crawled beside Luke once more, the grass cold against her palms and knees. Every step forward reminded her of what she had just done in full view of strangers and family alike, the humiliation settling deep into her bones while the weekend stretched out ahead. She had just one day left to survive, but Emma wasn’t sure her pride could take it.

❖

The thunderous roar of the crowd echoed through the stadium as several teams of ponygirls strained against their harnesses, pulling ornate chariots across the finish line. Dust rose from the track as the winning team was led away in celebration, while the spectators in the stands erupted into a mixture of cheers and frustrated groans. Off to the side, standing near the railing, the Daniels family watched the conclusion of the race with varying degrees of interest.

George let out a sharp, irritated breath and slapped his palm against the railing. “I can’t believe that useless bitch cost me a hundred bucks. She was leading all the way before she just fell over.”

Luke chuckled and gave his hand a dismissive wave before he adjusted his grip on the golden chain leash in his hand. “Better luck next time, Dad. I think we’ve seen enough of the races for one day anyway.”

The young man gave the golden leash a sharp, testing tug, and Emma felt the immediate, painful pinch of her gold nipple rings. The chain connected the two rings across her chest, and with the leash attached directly to that link, every movement Luke made was transmitted directly to her sensitive peaks. She stood beside her fake owner in a state of absolute, exaggerated modification, her dark hair pulled up into two tall, bouncy pigtails that seemed to mock her current predicament. Her face had been painted with a thick layer of glittering eyeshadow and winged eyeliner that reached toward her temples, while her cheeks were flushed with a deep, artificial rouge. The makeup served to frame her enormous, fat red lips, which were stretched around a black O-ring gag that forced her mouth into an inviting circle.

Emma was entirely naked, her neck held in a rigid, forced posture by a heavily boned rubber posture collar that kept her chin high and her spine perfectly straight. Her arms were secured behind her back in a rubber armbinder so tight that her elbows painfully touched, pinning her shoulder blades together and thrusting her chest forward. Black rubber bands were wrapped multiple times around the base of her massive 32DD breasts, squeezing the tissue and forcing them to jut out obscenely. The restricted circulation had already given the pale mounds a slight red hue. Her legs were encased in thigh-high, twelve-inch en-pointe ballet heels, which featured four decorative padlocks running down the side of each boot. The extreme footwear forced the brunette to stand entirely on the tips of her toes, her calves tight and her muscles straining as she maintained her balance.

This is so fucking humiliating and painful! My own employees are likely walking through this fair right now, and if they see me like this, I won’t be able to look them in the eye again. Luke is absolutely relishing the fact that he has his leash clipped to my tits, the young brunette thought out in anger.

Luke gave the leash another light tug and started walking deeper into the fairgrounds. “Come on, Bambi. Let’s see what else this place has to offer.”

The gold chain leash remained tight between his hand and her chest as they navigated the packed pavilion. Every tiny step forward was a labored chore for Emma, each tug on the lead sending a sharp, electrical spark of pain through her gold-ringed nipples. They passed through the market area of the fair, where dozens of stalls filled with slave-related items lined the aisles.

Fiona walked behind them in her long green halterneck dress, her wrists cuffed behind her back and her red ring gag holding her mouth open in a permanent O-shaped expression. Unlike Emma, she wore a black collar with a silver ‘Free Woman’ tag prominently displayed, a legal shield that ensured the men in the crowd kept their hands to themselves unless they had permission.

Emma was afforded no such luxury. As they moved through the market stalls, she became a public target for every leering man in the vicinity. One stranger reached out and delivered a stinging slap to her bare ass, causing the brunette to jump and let out a muffled “Mmmph-aaa-nnn!” as she almost tottered over in the heels. Another man stepped in close and buried his hand in one of her rubber-banded breasts, squeezing the engorged, red-tinted flesh with a jovial grin. Emma’s eyes flashed with a murderous rage that was entirely undermined by her pigtails and naked appearance.

Luke continued to guide the group through the throngs of people, his hand occasionally giving the leash a rhythmic pull that forced Emma to keep a tight, painful pace. They eventually reached a cordoned-off section of the pavilion that featured a high wooden fence and a guarded entrance. A sign above the gate read ‘The Gentlemen’s Hub’ in bold, professional lettering, and below it, smaller text added the disclaimer: ‘No Free Women, Slaves or Animals.”

George came to a halt and looked at the entrance with a satisfied expression. “Now this is where the real business happens, away from prying female eyes,” he chuckled. “You need to take an interest in these fair gentlemen’s hubs, son, because this is where the real men build their connections. Talk to the right people in here, and your career will take off.”

Luke looked at the sign and then back at the bound women accompanying the two men. “I wouldn’t mind a drink and a chance to network, Dad, but what are we going to do with these two while we are away?”

The older Daniels let out a hearty laugh and patted Luke on the shoulder. “We’re at a slave fair, son. I’m sure we can find something for them to do to stay productive while we enjoy the lounge. In fact, I think I know just the thing.”

Ten minutes had passed since George made his suggestion, and the transition from the bustling market to the cramped, dark space behind the wooden partition had been a blur of frantic steps and muffled protests. Emma felt her mind swirling in a vortex of unadulterated fury as the rough withdrawal of a man’s cock from her aching throat left her clicking her jaw in pain. She could hear the satisfied grunt of the stranger on the other side of the wall before his footsteps receded into the general noise of the fair.

I am going to destroy Luke for this. As soon as his parents leave, and he’s deleted that evidence, I am going to kill him.

Her predicament was a masterpiece of systematic degradation. Emma was currently kneeling on a small, padded block against a thick wooden wall, her entire body immobilized by a series of unforgiving straps. Two large, circular holes had been cut into the timber to allow her massive breasts to fit through, and a thick belt across her waist held her torso flush against the rough surface so she couldn’t pull away. Another wide strap ran across her head, pushing her skull forward with such pressure that her O-ringed-gagged mouth was forced through a third, smaller opening in the wood.

The brunette was effectively blind to her surroundings, her only view the dark image of the wooden wall before her, but she knew exactly what the world saw on the other side. Above the partition, a brightly colored banner announced the “Community Glory Hole” to every passerby. On the exterior, only her gasping, red-rimmed mouth and her squeezed, crimson-colored breasts were visible, still linked together by the gold chain that swayed with every panicked breath she took.

Beside her, Emma could hear the thuds and garbled sounds of Fiona undergoing a similar ordeal in the next unit. The “Free Woman” collar George had placed on his wife offered no protection here; inside this display, they were both reduced to anonymous orifices for the public’s enjoyment. Emma had already felt the wetness on her fat red lips from the first man, and she was unable to move her head more than a fraction of an inch to stop the next intrusion.

The sound of heavy footsteps stopped directly in front of her opening, and a shadow fell across the small circular hole. Emma squeezed her eyes shut as a thick, fleshy cock pushed through the opening and entered her mouth. The stranger didn’t offer any preamble or gentleness; he simply grabbed the wooden frame for leverage and began to fuck her mouth with a relentless, driving force. Emma tried to pull back, but the head strap held her fast, and the black O-ring forced her jaw to accept every inch of him.

The man continued to use her mouth for several minutes, his breathing becoming a series of low, animalistic grunts that Emma could hear through the thin wood. She felt the sudden, hot surge of his climax as he finally came, the liquid filling her mouth and overflowing past her fat red lips. She was unable to swallow fast enough, and she felt the warm fluid leak out and run down over her exposed breasts, coating the gold chain in a sticky, humiliating mess.

The man withdrew with a satisfied huff, and for a few seconds, Emma was left alone, her chest heaving as she tried to blink away the tears of fury. But the respite was short-lived. Another set of footsteps approached, followed by another man who wasted no time in claiming her mouth. Fuck! They’re lining up like I’m some cheap public toy. What is wrong with these people? She thought helplessly in vain. This man was even more aggressive than the last, his cock hitting the back of Emma’s throat and causing her to gag. “Mmmph-ghhhk! Nnnph!” The stranger grabbed her rubber-banded breasts, using them as handles to pull himself deeper into her mouth while he finished.

Several more men followed over the next hour, each one treating her mouth as a communal convenience. Emma lost count of the number of times she was filled and emptied, her makeup a smeared mess behind the board, and her breasts coated in the evidence of her degradation. Beside her, she could hear Fiona undergoing the same ordeal, the sounds of the fair outside acting as a bizarre soundtrack to their constant use.

Nearly an hour later, the sound of a familiar set of footsteps approached from behind. Emma felt the sudden release of the head strap, followed by the unbuckling of the torso restraint. The chain connecting her nipples was briefly removed from one of her gold hoops to allow her to step away from the wall, and she nearly collapsed as her legs were freed from their kneeling position.

Luke reached out and caught her by the arm, bringing her up to her feet. He looked down at the mess on her chest as he clipped the gold chain back to her hoop ‘piercing.’ “Well now, Bambi. It looks like you’ve been a very busy girl while we were away. I think you might have been the most popular station at the fair. At least, that’s what the evidence on your tits is telling me.”

Fiona was released a moment later, looking disheveled but surprisingly far less angry than Emma. She leaned into George’s side, her red ring gag still in place, as she let out a soft, garbled sigh of exhaustion.

“I think that’s enough for one day,” George suggested, clapping his son on the back as they began to walk toward the exit. “We should find somewhere for dinner and then head back. Fiona and I have a long drive home tonight.”

Luke nodded, his hand tightening on the golden leash as he reattached it to the nipple chain. “I agree. Thank you for taking me to the lounge, Dad, and to the fair in general. I had a lot of fun, and I think Bambi did too. I’ll definitely be bringing her along next year.”

Emma didn’t respond; her jaw ached too much even to attempt a muffled grunt. She began to totter after them, her tall ballet heels clicking against the pavement as she was led out of the pavilion. Her body was a mess, and her pride was nonexistent, but as the gates of the fairgrounds closed behind them, she knew that the weekend was finally coming to an end. Now, she just had to survive the consequences.

❖

The dull thud of luggage hitting the wooden floor signaled the end of a long, degrading weekend. George Daniels stood by the entrance, his salt-and-pepper hair slightly mussed from the day’s activities at the fair, but his expression remained one of deep, paternal pleasantness. He reached out and grasped Luke’s hand, shaking it with a firm, masculine grip that served as a final stamp of approval on his son’s supposed lifestyle.

“I have to tell you, Luke, this was exactly the break your mother and I needed,” the older man said, his voice a deep, resonant rumble that filled the foyer. “Thank you for the hospitality. It’s good to see you’ve finally settled into the correct order of things. We will definitely be visiting more often now that we know how well you’re doing.”

Fiona stood beside her husband, having already discarded the ring gag and cuffs that she had worn earlier in public. She looked every bit the elegant, free-tier wife once more, though her eyes still carried an appreciative sparkle when they drifted toward the floor. She stepped forward and pulled Luke into a warm hug, her perfume filling the air as she pressed her cheek against his.

“This was a lovely visit, Luke,” Fiona murmured as she pulled back, her hands resting briefly on his shoulders. “Thank you for introducing us to your new pet. She really is a treasure. I’m so glad you found someone who suits your tastes so perfectly.”

Emma remained on her hands and knees, her palms pressing against the rug as she stared at the floor. The extreme footwear and the restrictive armbinder from the fair were gone, leaving her entirely naked once more. The tall pigtails and the silver-winged makeup remained on her face, framing the wide black O-ring gag that still forced her mouth into an open, well-used circle. A simple latex band circled her throat, the black leash attached to it held firmly in Luke’s hand. The gold chain between her nipple rings swayed with her shallow, angry breaths. It’s almost over, she kept telling herself.

Luke reached down and patted Emma on the head with a condescending motion, much like one would treat a well-behaved mutt. “You can visit anytime, Mom, Dad. Bambi and I are always happy to have you.”

George looked down with a final, predatory grin as he reached for the door handle. “We’ll call you when we get back to DC. Take care of that little slut, son.”

The older couple offered one final wave before stepping out into the hallway. The door clicked shut with a sharp, final sound, and the apartment fell into a sudden, ringing silence. The moment the lock turned, Emma shifted her gaze upward, shooting Luke a look of such concentrated fury that it would have withered a lesser man.

Luke didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He let out a low, genuine chuckle and walked behind her, his fingers working the buckle of the latex collar. He unclipped the leash and collar first and then reached for the straps of the O-shaped gag. With a sharp tug, the rubber gave way, and the black ring finally slid out from between the brunette’s aching teeth.

Emma didn’t hesitate. She immediately rose to her feet, her legs feeling slightly shaky after the hours of forced posture. She stood naked before her subordinate, her chest heaving as she tried to find her voice. When she spoke, the words came out in a hoarse, painful rasp, her throat feeling like it had been scrubbed with sandpaper.

“What the fuck was that, Luke?” she demanded, her voice cracking as she gestured wildly toward the door. “What the actual fuck were you thinking?”

Luke walked toward the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a smug, dazed expression on his face. “I’d say it went rather well, Emma. You treated the whole weekend like a total pro. My parents are convinced I’m a rising star with the best-conditioned slave in the city.”

“Blowjobs and pissing on the grass in public were not in the agreement!” the chief trainer screamed, though the volume only caused her throat to burn more. She folded her arms over her chest, her breasts feeling tender and sore from the rubber bands that had been squeezing them all day. She brushed the gold chain against her nipple hoops, the metal cool against her bare skin.

Luke straightened up, his eyes narrowing as he looked the naked woman over. “You agreed to act like my slave, Emma. Did you actually know what was expected of slaves in public? It’s honestly concerning that the Chief Slave Trainer of the biggest organization in the country didn’t realize that a pet is expected to take a piss outside. If anything, I was being lenient with you.”

Lenient? He thinks that was lenient. I was a hole in the wall for an hour while he had a drink with his fucking father! She screamed inside.

“Fuck off, Luke,” she rasped, her hands clenching into fists as she dropped her arms to her sides. “Now, take these goddamn things out of my nipples. I fulfilled my part of the deal. It’s time you lived up to yours.”

Luke watched her for a long moment, his gaze openly appreciating her enhanced assets displayed in his living room. “I don’t know, Emma. I think I quite like them. They really suit that new look Carlos gave you.”

“Luke, I am not joking,” she snarled, taking a step toward him. “The deal was the weekend for the files. The weekend is over. Delete those damn files, and get these things off my fucking nipples. Now.”

Luke chuckled and nodded, his ego clearly satisfied by the level of dominance he had achieved. He walked into his bedroom and returned a moment later carrying a small, thin laptop. He set it down on the breakfast table and opened the screen, his fingers moving across the keys with speed. Emma stood over him, her eyes fixed on the display as he navigated through a series of folders in his cloud drive.

“There they are,” Luke whispered, highlighting the files that contained the incriminating photos, videos, and log files from the server room. He right-clicked and hit the delete command, followed by a prompt to empty the trash bin. “And just like that, they’re gone.”

“Is that the only copy?” Emma asked, her voice trembling with a mixture of relief and suspicion.

“It was the only copy left in existence,” Luke said, closing the lid of the laptop and looking up at her. “Your freedom is assured, Emma. For now, anyway. But remember, if you get caught by someone who’s not as nice as me in the future, what you experienced this weekend will be nothing compared to the rest of your life.”

Emma narrowed her eyes, the threat not lost on her. She reached up and touched the gold hoop attached to her left nipple again. “Remove the hoops, Luke. And give me something to wear so I can get home.”

Luke stood up and tucked the laptop under his arm, a cold, dismissive look crossing his features. “That wasn’t part of the agreement, Bambi,” he said joyfully, using her ‘adopted’ name for added effect. “I agreed to delete the files. I didn’t agree to clothe you or help you get home. I’m done with you for the weekend.”

“Don’t be an asshole!” Emma snapped, her face flushing with a fresh wave of humiliation. “I can’t walk out onto the street with gold chains hanging off my tits. Just get these fucking things off me!”

Luke started walking back toward his bedroom, not even bothering to look back at the naked woman. “I don’t care what you do, Emma. You’re more than welcome to stay here if you’re so worried about getting home. But I should warn you, if you’re still here in five minutes, you’re going to end up back in that gag and collar. I am quite fond of the look.”

Emma stood in the center of the living room, her mind racing as she looked from the door to the bedroom. She knew the man wasn’t bluffing. The look in his eyes was one of total command, and she knew that if she stayed, the weekend wouldn’t truly end.

Furious and trembling with a combination of rage and vulnerability, Emma turned toward the apartment door. She reached for the handle, her heart racing as she realized she had no other choice. She nervously pulled the door open and stepped out into the quiet hallway, her bare feet meeting the carpet as she began the long, agonizing journey back to her own penthouse. She was naked, ‘pierced,’ and completely exposed, but as the door clicked shut behind her, she knew that at least the files incriminating her were gone. She was still free, and that was all that truly mattered.

❖

The cool air of her penthouse hallway felt like a series of sharp slaps against Emma’s bare, sensitized skin. Every step taken on the carpet was a struggle against the crushing weight of the shame that had followed from Luke’s apartment. The walk back home had been a waking nightmare, a blur of predatory whistles, crude propositions from men leaning out of their car windows, and the terrifying fear that a government patrol would pull over to inspect the “runaway” slave wandering the streets of Manhattan without a collar. No self-respecting Free Woman would walk down the sidewalk completely naked, after all. Only the late hour and a few strokes of desperate luck had kept the brunette from being hauled into a police cruiser before she reached the safety of her building.

The door to her penthouse finally came into view, and a shaky hand reached for the biometric scanner. The mechanism whirred and clicked, allowing the entrance to swing open and admit the shivering, naked woman into her sanctuary. She stood there for several long seconds, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to process the fact that she was finally alone.

I made it. I’m home. No more Luke, no more George, no more being humiliated in public. I just need to get these gold things off my nipples and find a real dress, she told herself.

Emma opened her eyes and looked at herself in the hallway mirror, a fresh wave of revulsion washing over her. The silver-winged makeup was smeared across her face, and her loose locks were messy and tangled. The gold chain between her nipple rings swayed, the metal cold and mocking against the skin of her DD-cup breasts. She looked like a broken slave that had been discarded in an alleyway, a far cry from the Chief Trainer whose life was vastly different a few months ago.

She pushed off from the door and moved toward the living room, her bare feet silent on the floor. She needed her phone. She needed to call Marcus and ask him where he was with his mission. She hadn’t gone through a weekend of torment just to have her partner in crime rest on his ass. Emma reached the dining table where she had left the device before her departure on Friday evening, her hand trembling as she picked it up.

The screen flickered to life, and the sheer number of notifications caused Emma’s heart to skip a beat. There were forty-five missed calls, all from the same number.

Caitlin? Why would she call me forty-five times in one day? Something is wrong. Something must be wrong.

She didn’t even bother to check her messages. The brunette immediately dialed Caitlin’s number, her thumb nearly slipping on the glass as she held the phone to her ear. It rang only once before a voice answered, but it wasn’t the calm, composed Caitlin she knew. The woman on the other end of the line was hyperventilating, her voice a jagged, terrified whisper that made the hair on Emma’s neck stand up.

“Emma? Oh god, Emma, is that you?” Caitlin sobbed, the sound of her panic echoing through the speaker.

“Caitlin, what’s happening?” Emma asked, her own voice rising in pitch. “I just got home. I saw the calls. Did Marcus get what he needed? Is it done?”

“Emma, listen to me very carefully,” Caitlin replied, her breath hitching in a way that suggested she was hiding. “Marcus was arrested three hours ago. The FBI raided our apartment. They took everything: the computers, his storage devices, everything. They’ve charged him with treason and espionage against the People’s Party.”

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Emma reached out and grabbed the edge of the dining table to keep from collapsing. “Treason? How?” she asked in a panic. Had Luke not kept his word?

“They’ve apparently been tracking Marcus for weeks,” Caitlin hissed with a trembling tone. “They found the wireless receiver he used to pull the data from you. They know about the meeting at the coffee shop. And Emma… they know you were the one who carried the device into the building.”

Emma felt a cold, numbing sensation spread from her bare chest to her limbs. No. This can’t be happening.

“You have to get out of there,” Caitlin urged, her voice becoming more frantic. “They’re coming for you next, Emma. They’re already on their way to the Upper East Side. If you’re still in your apartment when they arrive, you’re never going to see freedom again.”

Emma’s throat tightened, the rawness from two days of constant gagging making every word feel like broken glass. She gripped the phone harder, her free hand instinctively covering one of her still-tender breasts where the chain brushed against the sensitive skin. The weekend’s marks were everywhere: the faint red lines from the rubber bands, the lingering ache in her nipples, the sticky memory of strangers’ release still faintly present on her body, no matter how many times she had tried to wipe herself clean on the walk home.

“But where can I g—”

A loud, aggressive knock suddenly hammered against her front door, the sound so violent it rattled the frame.

Emma startled hard, her fingers loosening in pure shock. The phone slipped from her grasp and clattered onto the floor, the screen cracking on impact. Caitlin’s frantic voice kept spilling out from the speaker, tiny and distant now, asking Emma what that noise was, but the brunette could barely hear it over the thunder of her own heartbeat.

The knock came again, even harder, shaking the door in its hinges.

A deep male voice boomed from the hallway, authoritative and stern. “FBI! Open the door now!”

Emma stood frozen in the center of her own living room, completely naked, the gold chain still dangling from her tender nipples. The room seemed to spin around her. There was nowhere to hide. The balcony was too high. The service stairs were on the other side of the hallway. Where could she go?

Another pounding knock, louder this time.

“FBI! We know you’re inside, Emma Duke. Open the door, or we’ll breach it!”

Her bare feet remained rooted to the cool marble. The chain on her chest tugged at her nipples in a way that felt far too intimate for the terror flooding her veins. She had survived the entire weekend of Luke’s blackmail, the public humiliation, the glory hole, the forced pet play, only to walk straight into this.

What was she going to do now?

End of Chapter Seven.