Rebel Justice - A Switching Places Story

Chapter 2

by BHFun

Tags: #cw:noncon #bondage #D/s #dom:male #dystopia #humiliation #scifi #clothing #exhibitionism #sub:female #sub:male

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Chapter Two

It had been two months since my body had been stolen, my new body was arrested and convicted, and my entire life turned upside down. I was in the body of a lowly woman, but not just any lowly woman. I was in the body of the notorious rebel leader, Sindy Gonzales. The courts wanted to make an example out of me until the President himself halted the sentencing and took me into his custody. Ever since then, I have been treated as the White House puppy.

Thanks to unique technology I had rejected when I was a power CEO of one of the largest companies in America, my body was tightly confined inside a latex bitch suit. The President wanted everyone to know what happened to rebels when they were inevitably caught, and he kept me in the public eye to reinforce his message. In my old body, I would have applauded his techniques, but everything was different now.

President Richard Krump was in the midst of a reelection campaign, and I was the poster child for his movement. His opponent was even more of a hard-line patriarch than the President, so Richard Krump used my capture and transformation as proof that his administration got the job done. I was paraded in city after city, kneeling beside the incumbent as he delivered his rallying speeches. Even in my lowly state, I could see his strategy was effective. If I weren’t trapped as the bound and gagged puppy myself, I would have been impressed by his efforts.

After a two-week campaign tour, I was finally brought back to the White House. During the day, President Krump enjoyed having me roam around the Oval Office. He relished the effect my presence had on foreign dignitaries and heads of state.

Today, there were no such meetings, and the President had me on my bound knees between his legs, with his Presidential cock in my mouth. I wore a wide ring gag as his penis pushed in and out of my orifice. Ever since I bit President Krump’s cock during my first blowjob session, he had insisted that I stay permanently gagged.

I heard a knock at the door, but the President took hold of my twin tails and kept my mouth in place when I attempted to lift my head to see who was there. Judging by the voice, I knew it was the President’s National Security Advisor. Krump didn’t attempt to move, shaking the security advisor’s hand as the man reached over me without acknowledging my presence.

“Any news today, Harry?” I heard the President start the meeting. The fact that neither men acknowledged me during a high-level security briefing reinforced my new place in the world. They didn’t see me as a human anymore or anyone who could cause damage by knowing the country’s deepest secrets.

“Yes, Mr President,” Harry Pickley replied to the commander-in-chief. “Despite your latest victory against Los Amontinados,” the advisor paused, and I could feel his eyes gazing at me even as I continued working on the President’s cock. “There are rumors the gang is rebuilding. They have grown in numbers since the conviction of Ms Gonzales. It appears your plan has had the opposite effect amongst the rebels.”

The President grabbed my pigtails further and began fucking my face as if he was taking his frustration out on my mouth. “That is troublesome,” he said thoughtfully, “Especially with the election upcoming.” There was a pause, the only sound coming from my throat as President Krump fucked my gagged mouth harshly. “Keep me updated.” He told his advisor. “Anything else?”

“Well, yes, Sir. There is something,” Harry said, with a slight shakiness. “There have been murmurs that a piece of SlaveTech technology has the ability to swap peoples’ bodies.” There was a scoff from the President, as though he didn’t have time for these fairytales.

My eyes shot open, “Mmumphh!” I yelped out. I had first-hand knowledge of the technology if only they let me speak. However, my muffled moans only prompted a slap from the head of state before he pushed his cock all the way down my throat and began emptying his load inside me.

“Of course, these rumors have only been started by a handful of crazy slavegirls claiming they used to be powerful men,” The advisor laughed, “They were likely just attempting to get free of their situation.”

President Krump continued to cum down inside my wide-open mouth, the salty substance shooting directly inside my throat, and took a moment to compose himself before addressing Mr Pickley. “Yes, those rumors are a little farfetched for me.” He said. I stared up at him, desperately trying to gain his attention. “Summon Harold Masters to the White House. I need him to issue a statement denouncing these lies. The last thing we need weeks before an election is the population in a state of panic.” The irony that the real Harold Masters was kneeling between the President’s legs wasn’t lost on me.

The President tugged my leash and pulled me away from his cock, back on my elbows and knees. He handed the advisor the chain connected to my collar. “Hand this thing to one of the secret service agents. I don’t want her peeing all over the Oval Office carpet.” Harry smirked at the President as he took my lead. He shook the Chief’s hand and made his way out, forcing me to follow behind him.

I was handed over to my handler. I had never learned his name, but he enjoyed parading me around the White House grounds. “Come on, puppy, it’s time for your walk,” he said condescendingly, tugging my leash and forcing me to follow him outside.

I had gotten much better at crawling on my elbows and knees over the last few months. The latex suit had its own self-cleaning function, meaning there was never a need to remove the rubber from my body.

Usually, my handler walked me around the Rose Garden before returning me to the puppy pen. Still, on this occasion, he guided me through the south lawn and towards the stables. “I thought you’d enjoy a little trip, just to remind you you’re not alone.” I wasn’t sure if those words were meant to be reassuring, but they sounded ominous. With my mouth still forced open and the President’s cum still fresh on my tongue, I was led inside the stables, and what I saw made me gasp.

Rows of women were lined up, naked, gagged, and bound to posts. They all wore tight leather harnesses that revealed their intimate parts and ensured their arms were firmly secured behind their back. They wore modified footwear that emulated hooves but forced their heels up in the air. Long bushy tails protruded from their ass, and some of them had bells attached to their nipples, much like myself. They each wore a special head harness, forcing a bit between their teeth and blinders to keep them staring ahead. The reins attached to their harness told me precisely what they were meant for. These were human ponies. I had seen slave ponies many times before, but these were so elaborately presented that I couldn’t help but be impressed, even as I cranked my neck to admire them.

I was then pulled further inside the stables into the milking zone. What I saw next made me shudder. Another row of women wearing thick metal collars was attached to a fence. The fence was designed to force the women to bend over with their hands cuffed behind their backs. As much as they struggled, they couldn’t escape their position. They were all completely naked, and their mouths were filled with bright red ball gags. The helpless slaves were of every shape and size, but they all served a single purpose. Milk pumps were attached to their breasts, sucking on their nipples and extracting milk from their bodies. These women were hucows designed to present the President and his staff with their own source of milk.

My handler enjoyed the look of horror in my eyes before tugging my leash and guiding me out of the stable. He brought me to my pet pen beside the Vice President’s office and unleashed me. He patted my head as I stared up at him, “Did you enjoy your walk?” he taunted me. “Perhaps one day you can be upgraded to Dairy Queen, too.” He laughed, ruffling my hair before locking the gate and leaving me alone. Left to my own devices, I used the opportunity to rest in my dog’s bed. At least in my dreams, I am still a powerful executive. I wouldn’t mind staying in these dreams forever.

I was awoken by the creek of my gate opening. Fluttering my eyes open, I looked to watch my handler approach. However, when he knelt down to attach my collar, I could see that the man was not my handler at all.

“Agent Mason is sick today. I’ll be looking after you,” he said. I wasn’t keen on a new man taking over my handler’s duties. Although I was living my worst life, it was a steady one. In this world, unpredictability was a danger to women and slaves.

The new handler tugged my leash and forced me to my elbows and knees, tugging me along. He guided me over to my food bowl and emptied a can inside. I still despised the taste of dog food. I had refused to eat it outright at the start, but I was punished with painful shocks to my collar until I relented. Since then, I eagerly lapped up the disgusting substance to avoid any more punishment. As I ate my breakfast, the new Secret Service agent absently played with the tail connected to the plug inside my ass. I didn’t like this man already.

Once I had finished, he informed me that we were going on a little trip. I shuddered. After two weeks of prancing around like the President’s lapdog to his adoring supporters, I had hoped these trips were over. I followed the new man, still humiliated as lustful and humored eyes stared down at me during my walk through the White House grounds.

He led me outside, but instead of loading me into a car parked directly outside the White House entrance, he led me over the gardens and through a side gate leading to West Executive Avenue. I followed him towards a nondescript white van and watched the stranger open the back doors. He quickly lifted me into the van, and my eyes widened at the chains hanging from the ceiling and walls.

I shook my head violently while he strapped me in, connecting various chains to me to secure me to the van. “Mumphh!” I yelped out in protest. I had no desire to be the President’s show puppy, but the thought of being kidnapped by some psycho and becoming his personal toy was a thousand times worse.

“Shushhh,” the stranger calmly said, “Everything is going to be alright.” He tried to reassure me. He slipped a long phallic-shaped plug inside my mouth, reaching all the way inside my throat, and secured the straps behind my head. “This is for your own good.” He added. His words were certainly not reassuring me.

Once I was secured, he slammed the doors shut, trapping me in complete darkness. The engine started, and the van started rocking along the road. The chains prevented me from being thrown around like a ragdoll, forced on my elbows and knees, with a dildo-shaped plug inside my mouth to ensure my silence. I was being kidnapped, and I was scared of what the future held for me.

Half an hour later, the vehicle abruptly halted. I was left in darkness for a further ten minutes before the doors opened, forcing me to squint at the bright indoor light. The van was parked in some type of underground garage. My kidnapper removed his sunglasses before reaching in and pulling the plug from my mouth. I stared at him quizzically when he continued to reach back and unbuckle the ring gag wedged in my mouth. It had been months since my mouth was entirely free, and it felt surreal to close my jaw again. “You’re safe now, Lieutenant Gonzales.” My eyes widened, and I stared at the mystery man in shock. He wasn’t kidnapping me; he was rescuing me.

The unknown man approached me with a combination of tools and got to work deactivating the bitch suit. It took him ten minutes of sweat-inducing effort to finally peel the advanced material away from my body. I felt my entire body tingle in comfort when I stretched out my limbs for the first time in months. “Thanks,” I responded in a thick Mexican accent. Other than the occasional mewls and moans, I hadn’t used Sindy’s voice much since being forced inside her body. Hearing her distinct voice emanating from my mouth was a strange, out-of-body experience. The man grinned and nodded, heading back to his tools.

I always knew there were male sympathizers working with the rebels, but I had never met one up close. In my social groups, we constantly belittled them and nicknamed them betas. I never thought I’d be so happy to see a sympathizer up close.

He approached my bare breasts and started working on my nipples. I withdrew out of instinct, but his warm smile told me he was there to help. He spent half an hour attempting to remove the bell piercings, but they frustrating stayed attached to my tits. They were not simple piercings. The metal was impenetrable, and the bells had been welded to the piercings. The man regrettably informed me that there was no removing them unless he ripped my nipple off with it.

“You not got those piercings off yet, Kyle?” A fierce feminine voice echoed from behind me. I turned around to watch two Latina women wearing military camo pants and body armor standing in the doorway.

“No can do. They used the tough stuff,” The man I now know as Kyle responded. He jingled one of the bells on my nipples as if to prove some point, which irritated me more than it should have.

Both women approached me. The rebel who had spoken earlier held her hand out to me. I tentatively took it, and she tugged me up to my feet, the bells on my nipples ringing loudly. She held me warmly, and I could only think of reciprocating the hug. “It’s great to see you again, big sis.” My eyes widened. This was Sindy’s younger sister, Rosa?

I knew I needed to keep up the act if I wanted to survive. “You too, Rosa. Thanks for breaking me out,” I responded in my new thick accent. I had to play this smart if I ever wanted to find a way back inside my old body again.

Sindy’s sister stared at me with concern. “You haven’t removed the collar yet?” she asked the man standing beside us.

“I was just about to get to it,” he replied, holding up a pair of bolt cutters.

Rosa looked visibly agitated, “Get to work. They keep a tracker in those pet collars!” She exclaimed. Kyle immediately approached me and commanded me to tilt my head forward. My dark locks were still tied up into pigtails, which allowed the man easy access to the back of the collar. After a few minutes of discomfort, I heard a click and was relieved to find the collar come loose and crash against the hard floor.

Kyle smashed the collar repeatedly with his tool until it had broken into multiple tiny pieces. “It’s too late for that,” Rosa announced. “They will already know where we are. We need to get out of here. There’s a safe house in Chicago we can lay low in.”

Our male companion raised an eyebrow. “How are we gonna get there?” He asked with frustration. “They would have tagged the van already, and I can’t exactly walk the streets of Washington DC with three of the most wanted fugitives in the country, can I?”

Rosa shook her head, “There is a train to Chicago departing in an hour.” She explained. “We’re going to have to wear a disguise in public,” she threw a black rubber mask in my direction. I stared at her in confusion. “None of us are going to enjoy it.” Her words sent a shiver down my spine.

After being released from my bitchsuit from the rebel sympathizer, I never thought I would be bound and gagged so soon. I was walking along the public streets of Washington DC with my bare breasts exposed and the bells ringing proudly. The only source of modesty I held was the black latex g-string panties covering my bare pussy. A strict black leather armbinder kept my arms painfully held behind my back, prompting me to thrust my bare chest outward. A black latex gimp hood tightly covered my face to protect my identity, and a black leather collar, complete with a shiny padlock, prevented anyone from removing the mask. My mouth was filled with a large glossy black ball gag, and a temporary tattoo on my bare lower back declared me ‘Property of Kyle Kennington III’.

I was shocked to discover the man who had sprung me from my pet prison at the White House was a member of the influential Kennington family. The Kennington’s were one of the three founding families to draft the first law legalizing female slavery. Kyle would have had his pick of slave brides, but he threw it all away to support the rebels. Half of me admired his rebellious choice, while the other half wondered how he could have been so foolish.

My two female companions were all dressed in identical bondagewear, walking barefoot in unison as Kyle held each of our leashes and guided us down the busy sidewalk. I was convinced I’d be recognized, but the citizens appeared to ignore us. They were acting as though three women hooded, gagged, bound, and leashed being led through the streets of DC was a perfectly regular occurrence—and it was.

We eventually reached Union Station, and our male escort led us toward the train bound for Chicago. As he checked in, the guard asked Kyle if he would like us stored in the cargo carriage, but he insisted we stay with him.

Once we boarded the first-class carriage, Kyle pulled us into a private compartment and locked the door behind him. He removed our ball gags, allowing us to speak again.

“Mind helping me out with this armbinder,” I asked him.

He reached out to help before I heard Rosa exclaim, “No!” We both turned to her, confused. “If the guards conduct a random check on us, Kyle can easily explain why we’re ungagged. He would raise suspicion if we were unbound, too, “she explained. I rolled my eyes; part of me started to believe Sindy’s sister enjoyed being trussed up.

The private space was cramped, with only one seat available. Kyle took the only seat as the three bound women found a space on the floor. Rosa and the other rebel, who I discovered was named Isabel, started filling me in on the gang’s movements since I was arrested and sent to the White House.

Hearing how much coordination and effort the group had made was fascinating. I had always thought of women as naturally less intelligent and far more submissive than the average man, but these rebels were fierce and wholeheartedly believed in their cause. It was admirable, if not foolish.

The conversation drifted toward memories of the rebel group’s previous exploits. “You never did tell us how you escaped that Bounty Hunter in Vegas,” Rosa said, and all eyes were on me.

I nervously laughed. I had no idea what they were discussing, but they were clearly expecting an answer. “Well, yeah, you know how it is,” I said nervously. “I had to use my feminine charms to escape that one.” There was a silence. Despite being practically naked, I felt incredibly hot and stuffy.

The silence was broken by Kyle’s hearty laugh, “Ohh, classic Sindy.” He said, prompting a chuckle from the other two. I breathed a sigh of relief but noticed Rosa staring at me a little too curiously.

The journey lasted ten hours before arriving at Chicago’s Union Station. I couldn’t believe Rosa’s plan had actually worked. Disguised as Kyle’s slaves, we had successfully escaped the Capital and were only a couple of miles from safety.

Our male companion re-gagged us before unlocking the private compartment. The train guard eyed me up uncomfortably as we unboarded the train. He tugged our leashes and guided us down the busy downtown Chicago streets. We were receiving a lot more stares than we did in the Capital. There were fewer naked women on the streets; in fact, there were fewer women on the roads in general.

I felt relief wash over me when Kyle eventually guided us inside a townhouse in Chinatown. If we were ever discovered in public, our gags and armbinders would have made it impossible to escape our captor’s clutches.

Inside the safety of our new hideaway, Kyle removed our gags again and proceeded to unbind us. My arms felt numb after 12 hours inside their strict prison, and Kyle handed me an ointment to help with the pain. He tossed me and my two female companions a pile of clothes before heading off to run himself a bath.

I bent over to investigate the casual clothing when I heard an ominous click along with the muzzle of a gun pressing against the back of my head. I shuddered and instantly placed my hands in the air. “Who are you?” I heard Rosa furiously question me. Had she gone crazy? I had to continue playing the part.

“I’m your sister,” I said calmly. “It’s me, Sindy.” I lied before turning around to face the Latina rebel. With my arms still in the air, I took a step back. “What’s going on?” I responded.

“You’re not Sindy,” the woman screamed. “What have you done with her?!” She had clearly figured out that I was not her sister. I started to wonder why Sindy had not sought her sister out after she stole my body. She now possessed the body of one of the most influential CEOs in America, and her sister was still fighting for her freedom.

“Listen to me, Rosa,” I stayed calm. “Put the gun down, and let’s talk about this.” I tried to reason with the Latina. Her hands were shaking as she pointed the gun at my face.

“Are you working for the government?” Rosa screamed, “Are you leading them to us right now?” Her pitch and volume had increased. Something had clicked in Rosa’s brain, and she knew I was an imposter.

“No, I…” As if on cue, I heard a crash as the front door was smashed down by a battering ram. “I knew it!” Rosa cried before turning the gun toward the invading FBI agents. She fired two shots when a dart struck her directly in the neck, prompting her to drop the weapon and plummet to the ground.

“No, I’m not going back,” I screamed in my thick Mexican accent and began sprinting to the bathroom. Before my hand reached the handle, I felt a pinprick in the back of my own neck. Suddenly, everything felt dizzy, and the tranquilizer went to work efficiently. I fell against the door before my entire world went black.

As my eyes slowly fluttered open, I was expecting an excruciating migraine to follow, but I felt surprisingly okay. I stared around the room. Birds were tweeting outside, and sun rays were beating through the large windows. The bed I was lying on was large and luxurious, with a comfortable thick mattress underneath. Was I dreaming?

I stretched out my limbs, thankful they hadn’t returned to the inescapable confines of the latex bitch suit and was pleased to find my mouth hadn’t been filled with a dreadful gag. Where was I? I had so many questions.

I gave myself a moment to enjoy this rare comfort before I decided it was time to search for those answers. I placed my feet on the soft carpeted floor and stood up when I suddenly felt incredibly dizzy. With nothing to hold on to, I fell to the ground on my knees, and the dizziness suddenly disappeared.

Confused, I rose to my feet again, only to find the room spinning around me once more. I fell back to the ground, and the disorientation vanished. I tried to stand a third time but ended with the same result. Whenever I rose to my feet, I felt an overwhelming dizziness come over me until I dropped back to the floor.

“Ohh, someone is finally awake,” My heart sank when I heard a familiar voice from the doorway. President Richard Krump adjusted his tie and waltzed into the room.

I shuffled my body to face the Commander in Chief. “What the hell have you done to me?” I screamed out. At least, that is what I had planned to scream out. “Ruff rrrufff ruffff,” My intended words had translated into the whiny woofs of a dog.

I stared at the President with bewilderment as he chuckled in my direction, “How is this possible?” I tried to say, but all the President heard was, “Woof ruff ruffff.”

“That’s much better,” President Krump remarked. “I did like that suit you were wearing before. I had some incredible features to it.” He said, “But it wasn’t permanent enough.” My eyes widened as I interpreted his ominous words. “Those damn rebel scum may come for you again. I needed to make sure you were of no use to them.”

The President circled me, “You’ll find that we require no more physical restraints to control you,” he crouched down and patted me on the head, “Everything controlling you is now inside that pretty little head of yours.” He laughed. “That doesn’t mean we didn’t have a little fun with you, rebel child. Go have a look in the mirror.”

I felt the sudden, overwhelming urge to stare at myself in the mirror. Unable to stand, I helplessly crawled to the full-length mirror on the other side of the room. What I saw both astounded and terrified me. My hair had been split into pigtails as I had become accustomed to, but my locks were now dyed a bright candy pink. My button nose had been tattooed jet-black to emulate the nose of a real puppy.

I was completely naked, except for the pink diamond-encrusted collar around my neck. I gasped at the size of my breasts. They must have been at least double the size of Sindy’s natural C-cups. However, the barbell piercings and attached bells were still fixed. The areola surrounding my nipples was tattooed into a pink heart shape.

While my entire look was alarming, they were not what horrified me. As I stared at myself dumbstruck in the mirror, my tongue was hanging out of my mouth as if I were panting. Both of my hands were up near my breasts, with my fists closed. It looked as if I were a human puppy begging for attention. I had no control over my body as I begged in front of the mirror. I was only able to break the pose when I started crawling away.

“See, do you like what we’ve done with you?” The President mocked me. I was furious. They had done something to my head, and now I couldn’t stand or speak.

“Ruff, ruff, ruff! Grrrrrr!” I growled threateningly. My reaction only elicited jovial laughter from the President before he ruffled my bright pink hair yet again. “Come, follow me.”

The President left the room. He hadn’t leashed me or restrained me in any way, so I was horrified to find that I couldn’t disobey his command. Obediently, I started crawling by his side, the bells attached to my enhanced breasts ringing with each step.

“The mind is far more powerful than any physical restraint,” he said, leading me through the White House corridors. “Once you control that, you can control someone entirely.”

“Congratulations on your re-election, Mr President,” I heard a staffer congratulate the US leader as he walked past. I had no idea how long I’d been out, but the election appeared to have been and gone.

I obediently followed the President outside. Hundreds of people gathered on the lawn as if waiting for an event to start. “We are holding a procession through the streets to celebrate my historic victory, and you’ll be sitting right beside me.” He grinned, “After all, I have you to thank for my victory.”

He led me to the stables, where the carts were being prepared. “I think it’s time to reintroduce you to a few of your friends. I heard one of them used to be your sister.” My ears perked up, and I shuddered when I looked up at the two women being prepared in front of the cart.

Rosa and Isabel stood to attention, staring directly ahead of them. They had been trussed up like ponygirls. Rosa’s jet-black hair had been pulled up into a high ponytail. A head harness ensured her bit gag stayed in place, and blinkers maintained her focus directly in front. At the same time, a wide leather posture collar kept her head from dropping. Isabel was kitted out identically to her former rebel partner. Both women’s breasts were noticeably larger than I remembered, and they now adorned the same bell piercings I had been forced to endure. Further bells were attached to their exposed clit piercings.

Their arms were contorted behind their backs in a painful reverse prayed position, with a leather strapped body harness keeping them tightly pressed against their backs. Their heels arched high in the air as they wore the specially designed hooves I had witnessed before. Their body harnesses were attached to the cart behind them, and reins flowed down from their head harness. I could see the resilient fire in Rosa’s eyes; she hadn’t given up the fight just yet. On the other hand, Isabel appeared far more resigned to her fate.

“Hop on. The procession is starting,” The President commanded, and I followed him to the elaborate cart connected to the two rebels. He lifted me into the open carriage before climbing up himself. President Krump made himself comfortable as I knelt beside him. He patted me on the head, “Good girl.” He praised me. For some inexplicable reason, I felt a wave of pleasure run over my body and started panting with my tongue out. The President chuckled at my reaction.

“Are you ready to start, Mr President.” A voice came from the front of the carriage. My eyes widened; I had heard that voice before. The man holding Rosa and Isabel’s reins turned to face President Krump and gave me a wink. It was Kyle Kennington III. Had the sympathizer turned his back on the rebels and turned us in? I felt betrayed.

“Yes, let’s begin,” The Commander in Chief commanded, prompting Kyle to tug on the reins and force the two rebel ponies to trot. The President grinned widely as he stared down at me. “God Bless America.” He gloated. I could do nothing but helplessly pant up at him. I was nothing but a puppy now.


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