Chapter 31

Trish bucked against her restraints. She couldn’t be sure why, hours had passed and no amount of pulling and squirming loosened them. Chains leading to cuffs lined with soft material kept her hands above her head and her legs apart in a large cell, somewhere in the bowels of CaliaCorp. Dim lights revealed little, and besides someone coming now and then to give her water and food, she was alone. Her hair hung loosely over her shoulders, and her boots had been removed, she couldn’t remember when. The whole experience was a blur of shouting and bodies and hands grabbing at her, holding her in place as the restraints were clamped around her. She hated it, hated being held like this, hated being trapped.

The click of heels and shuffling feet came from behind her. A door opened. Trish tried to crane her neck to see but couldn’t. It sounded like a group of people came in.

“Well,” came the cold voice of a woman, “our little… activist.”

She walked before Trish, tall and imposing, with hair pulled tightly into a long ponytail that reached her shoulders. She had piercing blue eyes. In her hand she held a riding crop and she wore a leather catsuit and thigh-high boots to match. Trish raised an eyebrow, it all seemed completely ridiculous, not that the woman wasn’t absolutely gorgeous, with deep brown eyes and dark lips.

“Who the fuck are you?” spat Trish.

“Oh dear,” the woman said, running the tip of her crop over Trish’s cheek. “You are quite the fighter. But you don’t realise what you could have my dear. We know all about you.”

Trish pulled her head from the crop and felt her lip curl into a snarl. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Trish, we know your name, your age, your sexual preferences, your cup size. There is nothing we can’t find out about people. Even filthy Circuit dwellers like you.”

Trish spat on the floor. “Fuck off.”

“It’s ok, my dear. I’m not here to whip you with this,” the woman said, cracking the crop against her palm, “I’m here to help you see what could be, if you only knew the possibilities. If you’d just open up to what CaliaCorp has to offer.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that? Being a brainwashed slut like you?”

The woman laughed. “No, Trish, being happy, being fulfilled, and having the kind of life you’ve always dreamed of. With a partner who fits you perfectly, and all the pleasure and comfort you can imagine. Does that sound bad?”

“It does if I have to get mindfucked for it, yeah.”

The woman began to pace up and down the cell, her heels clicking on the floor in a consistent rhythm. “Just the reaction I’d expect from someone who belongs in charge. You do like being in charge, don’t you?”

“Guess you do know about me,” Trish said.

“Yes, and I know you and I have a lot in common. We could be peers, you know. Colleagues.”

“The fuck we could, bitch.”

“My name is Stephanie, darling, and you’ll find there are wonderful benefits to being dominant in a place like this, but instead of prattling on about it, why don’t I show you.” The woman cracked her crop against her thigh and shouted, “slaves!”

Immediately a man and a woman crawled into the room on all fours. Both nude, save for a collar on their neck.

“Good slaves,” the woman said as Trish’s eyes widened. “This is Trish, you’re going to pleasure her. Show her how good it feels to be in charge at CaliaCorp. And Trish, I see your eyes, I see your desire… enjoy this. Perhaps if you don’t end up seeing things my way, at least I’ll have given you a wonderful memory.”

“Yes Ms. Miller,” the two nude people answered in unison.

She stepped aside, leaving the naked pair to crawl to Trish, kneeling in front of her and looking up.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Trish said.

“Mistress gave us our orders, we live to serve.”

“We exist to please.”

Without hesitating, the woman began to stroke her hands up and down Trish’s legs, delicately moving her fingernails up to Trish’s thigh. The man massaged Trish’s calf.

“I mean it you don’t ha-”

“We want to,” the woman said as she slid her hand along Trish’s inner thigh.

“You may command us,” the man added, gripping Trish’s other thigh and squeezing, making her gasp.

“If you wish us to stop, we will,” the woman said.

Trish bit her lip as hands slipped over her legs and found their way to her panties. She felt a tug on them. When she said nothing, the panties slid down her leg and stopped at the restraints, stuck. A feminine hand slipped gently over her mons and down, moving over her damp lips. Trish enjoyed it, despite herself. She wanted to say stop but it was the fantasy she imagined for years playing out. Even restrained, it was too good, too much to deny.

“Do you like this?” the woman asked.

Trish nodded. “Yes.”

The man now stood up and unhooked her bra, then moved his fingers to a bare nipple and began to caress it gently.

“Fuck,” Trish breathed, “harder.”

“What did you say, miss?”

“I said fucking harder,” Trish barked.

The man squeezed her nipple and Trish let out a long moan of deep arousal, and at that moment the woman’s finger found her clit and the combined sensation made Trish throw her head back. The man moved his mouth to the same nipple, sucking on it, biting just a little, as the woman’s finger moved in gentle circles, teasing, tormenting, making Trish ache for more.

“You enjoy this, don’t you? Having two eager slaves service you?”

It was Stephanie, the woman in leather. Trish had almost forgotten about her, but now the woman moved to Trish’s side, opposite the man gorging himself on Trish’s hard nipple.

“Fuck…” Trish gasped, “yeah, I do.”

Stephanie moved closer, her lips just beside Trish’s ear, her warm, damp breath sending shivers of arousal down Trish’s body.

“You love it,” she said, “you love taking charge of them.”

Trish couldn’t argue. She loved every second of it. She loved having that control, even if she wasn’t fully in control, the fantasy felt close to perfect.

“You want this in your life, all the time.”

Trish nodded.

“Give them an order, make them yours.”

“Oh god,” Trish groaned, “slavegirl, use your fucking tongue.”

The woman kneeling at Trish’s legs planted her face firmly between Trish’s thighs and started to lick, long and slow, at Trish’s pussy, from bottom to top.

“You feel that pleasure Trish,” Stephanie whispered, “that’s what you want in life, that’s what you need.”

Trish squirmed with lust and ecstasy. She wanted to fight the urge to just give in to the pleasure, but this was what she wanted. How could she deny it? She had always wanted this, to dominate and be served.

“This is what your body needs, what your mind needs, what you need.”

Trish nodded along, lips pursed, eyes shut.

“You can have this, all the time, with whomever you like, you know that?”

She tried, she really tried, but Trish could not keep the image from her mind. Sam. Sam on her knees just like the woman now pleasing her, the woman now thrusting her tongue inside her pussy and moving it around in languorous strokes.

“You can be the boss here all day, make these slaves do what you want, and go home to a submissive little pet every night.”

The image felt so powerful, the pleasure so intense. Sam waiting for her in a maid outfit, the scent of cookies wafting from the kitchen. Sam on her knees.

“Someone special to keep you satisfied after a long day being in charge here. Just like me, a manager, executive class. Top of the food chain where you belong.”

The tongue between her legs started darting in and out, and the man’s sucking became forceful, a little painful but in such a wonderful way. His hand clasped her ass and pushed her further onto the tongue that made her feel blissful.

“Why don’t you really enjoy this,” the leather-clad woman said, unclasping one restraint. “Take your slave and show her the way.”

Trish turned and looked at Stephanie, the woman whispering forbidden fantasies into her mind. She could swing out, slap her, push her, even open the rest of the restraints. Instead, with a wicked grin, Trish grabbed the woman between her legs by the hair and tipped her head back with force.

“Like this, slave, head back, tongue up, deeper.”

The woman obliged, pushing her tongue deep into Trish’s vagina. Trish could feel the woman's nose tickle her clit and almost laughed but all that emerged from her mouth was a ragged breath.

Stephanie smiled. “It’s wonderful, don’t you think, to have this control?”

Trish’s thighs were quivering, her body shaking. “Fuck yeah,” she managed to blurt as she convulsed with arousal.

“Do you have someone in mind? To make your pet?”

Trish felt the surge of conflict within her. The need to protect Sam. Her friend. Someone she had known for so long. The other side of her, the side currently enjoying a man’s soft touch on her ass and a woman’s eager tongue in her pussy, was quite happy to picture Sam in the same position, a desperate, needy slave only existing for the pleasure of her owner. Of Trish.

“They’ll be well taken care of, of course,” Stephanie said. “Given a life of luxury in an apartment befitting a manager’s partner and slave.”

Maybe Sam would like it, domestic bliss and total subservience. Maybe it didn’t matter. Trish’s mind raced with lust and love. She loved Sam. She wanted to be with her, to own her, but to take care of her too. Maybe CaliaCorp would be safe, maybe they’d be happy in a nice place, wrapped up in each other every night.

Maybe it just felt fucking good to have two mindless slaves doing whatever you wanted.

“It feels good, doesn’t it? The rush of power, the adrenaline, the energy. I’m sure you must be ready to orgasm,” Stephanie whispered.

Trish felt ready, and the feeling increased in power when the man’s hand reached over her waist and his finger found its way to her clit, making the woman tilt her head back further and find a new, even better position to lick. He still had his mouth on her nipple and the sensations, so many at once, were overwhelming.

“Oh fuck, yes,” Trish shouted.

“Yes, you’ll love it here my dear. You’ll love your new role at CaliaCorp. Ruling over the employees by day and having a personal slave at night who adores you completely. Who loves you, as you love them.”

“Yes, harder slaves, faster. I fucking own you,” Trish screamed as pleasure overcame her.

In her mind Sam knelt on the ground, licking and pleasing and teasing. Trish ruffled her hair and told her what a good girl she was. How obedient, what a cute little kitten she had become. The other side of the fantasy crept in too, dressed in leather or a business suit, walking around on heels, with a whip or a crop of her own meting out punishment to any employee who stepped out of line. Maybe even having them lick her pussy as a reward for good work. Or stepping on them for the opposite. The entire office looking at her, seeing her power. Every idea, every dominant thought she ever had rose to the surface and the woman in her ear whispered about how good it felt to be in power, how good it felt to be a CaliaCorp manager, how amazing it would be to have a life of sexual fulfillment and a personal sex toy to go home to.

And that was Sam, it had always been Sam. Fuck the friendship, fuck hating CaliaCorp. This was what she wanted and maybe it was the building orgasm speaking, but Trish simply did not care, she could keep going forever, one orgasm into the next into the next until the two slaves collapsed and she found more to take their place. She’d be so good as a manager, she was meant to lead, to control. Was she thinking that or being told that? Who fucking cared, the tongue between her legs, the finger on her clit, the constant building pleasure and delightful pain on her nipples, both now, someone else squeezing the other, it was so much, so good.

“Fuck yes, yes, yes, I belong in control, I deserve to be in charge. YES!”

Trish’s entire body rippled, she felt her wetness sliding down her legs, she rocked and bucked and held onto the woman still tonguing her by the head, digging her fingernails in and causing the woman to do the same to Trish’s thighs, sending a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through her.

“Oh my god,” Trish groaned, “good slaves.”

“I told you Trish,” Stephanie said, “you do belong here. Don’t you?”