A Woman's Role

Ch.12

Maid-doll Delivery + Puppy Love

Mittens purred happily, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Master Dominic, locked in her place at the top of the stairs by the vibroshock that threatened to zap her pussy if she crawled away from her spot.

She held her head cocked to the side in curiosity as she watched her person, Barbie, and her two toys prepare to receive Dominic. Barbie and Nicole had covered up Mimi's mouth, her eyes, her hair, and even her latex-sheathed orifices, making the doll look more like a dehumanized object than ever. She'd even used a rubber gag that cancelled out the doll's voice the way Mittens' mouthplug did, but they hadn't given Mimi a voicebox to translate her sounds into a synthetic voice like Mittens' mewls and purrs; the maid-doll had simply fallen nearly silent, the barest murmur all that she could produce.

Lastly, they'd placed a sleek, low-profile pair of earmuffs over the doll's molded rubber ears, leaving Mimi faceless, sexless, deaf, dumb, and blind. It must have been an intense, borderline psychedelic experience, but if Mimi had thoughts or feelings about her condition, she had no way of expressing them to anyone else.

Mittens felt bad for Mimi as she was locked in the clear plexiglass display case by the Dollhouse's entrance, knowing that the maid-doll would have loved to show off all her pretty features to her Master. She looked like a brand new doll, fresh from the factory, still in its packaging. The effect was enhanced by the large packaging twist-ties that Barbie tightened around Mimi's neck, wrists, and ankles, feeding them through holes in the back of the display case and twisting them shut. She was secured to the back of the clear plastic box with twist-ties the way an action figure or toy might be packaged for shipment or sale.

As sad as that was for Mimi, it was great for Mittens: she'd be able to hog the spotlight with her adorable feline mannerisms while Mimi was stuck in her box, as long as Nicole didn't steal the show. She'd get her Master to pet her ears, and give her praise, for sure. Mittens purred and kneaded her paws excitedly into the floor. She couldn't wait.

Barbie and Nicole sashayed the few steps from Mimi's box to Mittens' side, asses swaying as they strode confidently in their tall heels. Barbie picked up Mittens' leash and held up a finger in warning, "I'm leaving your vibroshock on 'lock', so sit there, and stay, Mittens. Be calm, and sweet, and sit pretty like I taught you when Dominic gets here. No mischief, no attention-whoring, or I'll kennel you right in front of your Master."

Mittens was chagrined that she wouldn't be unlocked and allowed to run up to greet her Master, but she nodded and gave an affirmative, "Mee-yowr!" to her Mistress, sitting back on her haunches and holding up her cute rubber paws, letting them dangle adorably from her wrists beside her smiling feline muzzle. She promised herself she would be good, and reflect well on Barbie's training when she met her Master for the first time in FreakPet form.

When her Master finally emerged, winding his way up the spiral staircase from below, Nicole's squeals and Mittens' excited mews joined in a sweet, happy chorus. Barbie stretched her open palms out before, welcoming Dominic to her domain while also gesturing towards her playthings.

"Welcome back, Master Dominic, to my marvelous Dollhouse. Behold: my beautiful playthings!" Dominic grinned as he surveyed the three, nodding respectfully in greeting towards Barbie.

"It's a pleasure to enjoy, once again, your hospitality, Mistress Barbie," Dominic took Barbie's hand and kissed the back of her fingers with just a hint of cheeky sarcasm, and Barbie giggled. Mittens noticed that Barbie and Dominic used each other's full titles as a sign of respect, but she doubted very much that Dominic was in any way Barbie's Master, personally, much less that Dominic would be anyone's sub at all.

"I recognize Nicole, of course," Dominic took both of Nicole's hands in his own and kissed her forehead as she burbled and bounced happily, chewing softly on the squishy white ball in her mouth as the gag restrained her smile, "As always, that white body harness looks marvelous in contrast with your skin tone's warmth, my darling, and you remain the most natural rubberdoll I've ever seen. Every day you remind me anew why I chose to make you a captain, and every day you make me proud."

Mittens restrained her impulse to scurry over to her Master; she knew she would get shocked if she left her place. She wanted to chatter excitedly to Dominic, to get his attention, and make him look at her, but she held her pose, sitting pretty and purring with only the occasional, contented mewl.

Finally, he turned her way, and a shiver ran up and down Mittens' spine, the skin under her two layers of latex prickling with goosebumps. If she'd been the sort of kitty with fur, it would have been standing on end, bristling in anticipation of her Master's touch.

"And who could forget Mittens, the Dollhouse’s resident housecat? Hey there kitty, psst psst psst," he bent down to scratch Mittens' ears and rub his fingers across her rubbery scalp.

Mittens mewled happily up at her Master, grabbing at his wrist and forearm with her mittened paws, leaning into his touch with her head and damn near exploding with the simple, pure joy of a petted kitten, along with the lustful thirst for the vibrations his touches triggered in the vibroshock inside of her. The vibrations weren't intense, but Mittens was so deeply aroused by her Master's masculine gentleness that she felt like she could cum at the drop of a hat.

"That's a sweet kitty. Now, down, Mittens," he snapped his finger and pointed to the floor, and Mittens immediately stopped pawing at his arm and dropped down on her knees and forearms, nuzzling her cheek against Dominic's shin.

"And who's this in the display case? It's a pity she's all locked up and I can't see her face," Dominic walked with Barbie over to the plexiglass box inside which Mimi stood, helplessly twist-tied to the back panel of the case.

"Her name is Mimi, and I assure you, once you get her back home and take her out of her packaging, you'll like what you see. Until then, I'm just going to leave you guessing. You'll have that surprise to look forward to tonight, my esteemed patron and colleague," Barbie was teasing Dominic, and although he was grinning, there was a strange tension about him. He wasn't used to not getting what he wanted, and especially wasn't accustomed to a woman telling him he can't have something until she decides to give it to him.

"You know, you shouldn't try to vex me, Barbie" Dominic hissed, his tone suddenly icy with menace, "this may be your domain, and you may not have a male guardian, but at the end of the day, you're still a woman. A member of the submissive sex, dominant as you are over your toys. If you were to challenge my authority, and we faced arbitration by the HaremCo board, only one of us would be allowed to speak in their own defense. You'd be strapped into your chair, gagged with a permaseal, and a temporary male guardian would be assigned to represent you. The board loves to silence and humble uppity women they can't enslave, and don't you dare forget it."

Mittens was appalled. Dominic was being such a pig! This was Barbie's house, these were her toys, and this patriarchal asshole was threatening to have Barbie gagged, forced to let a man speak for her at a corporate hearing. They had been right to bemoan the intrusion of a male presence into their sanctum of submissive femininity. Her Mistress' pride and dignity were under attack, and Mittens wouldn't stand for that.

Even knowing she would be shocked for leaving her spot, she resolved to march over to Dominic and pounce on him, loyally defending Barbie with her feline ferocity.

But Barbie beat her to it.

With a haughty chuckle and a smirk, she closed the distance between herself and Dominic, staring him down with her face only inches away from his unblinking glare. Her boots' heels made Barbie just over 5 feet 10 inches tall, and as big as Dominic was, he didn't manage to tower over the Dollhouse's unflinching Mistress.

"Aw, are you still hung up on me, Dom? Can't let it go that you couldn't make you mine, so you're running off to mommy and daddy in the board room, telling them to gag the mean lady who wouldn't give you your toy? I shouldn't have expected better. You talk a big game about protecting and guiding women to fulfillment and happiness, but you're just shit-scared of any girl physically capable of talking back, aren't you?"

The silence in the room was deafening, and neither dominant blinked or backed away for a long, stretched-out moment of tension. Mittens was in awe of her Mistress' audacity, but she was afraid of what either Dominic or Barbie would do to the other if the situation escalated. It was like being the family pet and watching Mom and Dad fight, and the little kitty's heart was breaking at the thought of her people hurting each other.

Then, suddenly, Dominic and Barbie broke into hysterical laughter, wheezing and leaning on each other for support as their faces turned red from cackling so hard.

"You're a bitter, frigid hag, Barbie."

"You're a dirty old bastard, Dom."

The two of them had never been fighting for real, they were just doing a skit. It was a sort of boomer-humor, old married couple schtick that indicated the two shared a long, rich history, and they were comfortable enough with each other to play around even with serious matters like their status as dominants.

Nicole giggled softly, and Mittens made the little chainsaw purr her voicebox produced when she laughed. She'd been so worried, but they were really a happy family, and all was well in the Dollhouse.

"So, Barb, how are my girls holding up? I can tell Mittens here is fully absorbed in her character, and I'm so happy to see her playful, innocent youth find an outlet in a feline persona. But how about Mimi? Was I right about her, too? Or has she been struggling?" Dominic inquired as he and Barbie caught their breath, their laughter slowly dying down and allowing for conversation.

"Oh, her? She's like a pig in shit. She's in heaven. Would you believe I left her alone for two minutes, and she went and picked out that suit for herself? I didn't have to threaten her, or shock her, nothing, she was excited to suit up right from the start. It was honestly a little disappointing how little resistance these two put up, but it was a pleasure watching two natural rubberdolls learn to walk in their new shoes for the first time. I've got to hand it to you, Dom, you've got an eye for talent," Dominic grinned knowingly at the acknowledgement of his ability to predict a slavegirls' affinities, and Mittens brimmed with pride at her Mistress' praise.

Mittens was a special kitty, she was born to play this role, and she was going to be everybody's favorite petgirl, especially if they ever let her play with Abby. She wondered what Abby looked like as a puppygirl. She knew she wouldn't be in a FreakPet suit like Mittens' own, but she didn't know what the trainers at the Kennels had made her sweet, submissive roommate wear as part of her petplay. She just knew Abby loved being a puppygirl, and Mittens hoped she'd be the kind of pet that Abby would be thrilled to play with, to snuggle up with, maybe even to grind on and nuzzle when she was in heat.

"Well, I'm going to head home. Can you try to have Mimi delivered to my place at around 7 or 8? I'm expecting company, and I think they'd love to meet our new maid-doll. Plus, I can't wait to see what she looks like," Dominic approached Mimi's display case and placed his palm longingly on the plexiglass surface.

"Absolutely, Dom. I'll have her gift-wrapped, and I'll even tie a little bow on the whole package. Oh, you should do an un-boxing video, and I'll upload it on the Dollhouse webpage!" Barbie slapped the display case like a used car salesman, proud of the sturdy packaging and the rubbery wares it contained.

Mittens was amazed. They were really going to ship Mimi to Dominic's house, like mailing a toy in its packaging, for him to open up and play with at his leisure. It was horrifying to think of being transported around in a box, shipped like a human commodity to a purchaser eagerly awaiting the arrival of their order, maybe even tracking the shipping, or paying for express service.

On the other hand, she found herself a bit jealous that Dominic wanted to play with Mimi in his own home, and not her. She had a little daydream of herself kenneled in the dark rear of a cargo van, scared and alone with no idea where she was going, until the van's door slid open and there stood Dominic, opening her cage and leading her into his warm, cozy home by her leash.

Maybe one day.

"Well, thanks for everything, Barbie. I'm glad my girls have been so cooperative, and given you so much entertainment. I'm heading out now. I'll see you tomorrow, Nicole. Keep making me proud. Bye, Mittens!" Dominic patted Mittens' head briefly then hurried off down the stairs, clearly rushing to prepare for the guests he was planning on showing Mimi off to. Mittens whimpered a sad mewl as her Master disappeared down the spiral staircase, then turned to look at her Mistress for reassurance.

Barbie cracked her knuckles with a grunt, then said, "All right, you heard the man! Nicole, why don't you put in a delivery ticket on your tablet for Mimi here. You know Dom's address, right? Put in delivery time 7:30, and use the Dollhouse priority code. The guards should be up the elevator with a dolly and a shipping crate in a few minutes. The next thing Mimi sees will be the inside of Dom's living room."

Nicole got to work on her tablet, accessing the HaremCo app and placing an order for the guards to come and ship Mimi off. Barbie strode back to her chair behind the sales counter, and Mittens trotted along behind her, curling up by her side as her Mistress sagged into the high-backed, wheeled office chair. It had been an eventful day, and even Barbie was beginning to tire.

"Say, Mittens, how would you like to play with some other pets? I think you've adopted enough of a consistent persona to play with other petgirls without freaking out and scaring them now. You must have been a feline in a past life. Maybe you have the thought of a serval, or even a big cat, like a panther. What do you think, Mittens?"

Mittens gave an earnest nod, clawing at the air and shouting out a playful, "RAWR!" She was a real kitty, through and through, fierce and sexy and adorable all at once, and she'd never felt more at home in her skin.

"That's my girl," Barbie said, reaching down and scratching Mittens' ears while the rubber kitty purred and kneaded the floor, "I'm going to send you to the Kennels for the rest of the night. I sent all the other FreakPets we currently house down there to play with the conventional petgirls while you and Mimi got special attention on your first day. Just listen to the trainers, be nice to the normal slavegirls, especially the newbies who spook easily. It's important they see you as the happy little well-adjusted kitty that you are, not a horrifying future that awaits them as their training progresses. Can you swear on the honor of your feline ancestors that you'll behave yourself, and reflect well on my training?"

Mittens was overjoyed. She'd been around the dolls and her Mistress all day, but now she was going to play with other petgirls like her. There were even other FreakPets like herself at the Kennels, playing and learning with the petgirls like Abby.

That was right, Abby was there too! Mittens raised her paw as if taking an oath and nodded solemnly, "Mee-yow!" She would be the model of petgirl behavior if it meant that she would get to meet Abby as a puppygirl, and play with her until it was time for bed.

"Then it's settled," Barbie placed an order on her tablet, like Nicole was doing for Mimi, telling the guards to come and take Mittens down to the Kennels, "now get in one of the cages, Mittens. The guards will be by after they pick up Mimi to take you down the elevator in the Vault to the Kennels."

Barbie bent down and kissed Mittens' forehead, cupping her kittygirl's rubbery cheeks in her hands, "Mistress loves you, Mittens. Goodbye for now, until we get to play again!"

Mittens purred and nuzzled Barbie's knees before scampering off and pawing open the door of one of the wire kennels on the wall beside the sales counter and crawling inside. She picked the one closest to the massive steel Vault door behind the counter, and just after she was inside, a mechanical whirr and the clank of heavy metal deadbolts signalled that the door was opening.

Two guards dressed in their black uniforms wheeled a flat-bed furniture dolly through the massive Vault door, nodding to Barbie as she waved and smiled sweetly to them. The dolly had a massive, coffin-sized container lying flat on its bed that looked like a heavy-duty case for a large musical instrument, or expensive and delicate equipment.

Mittens watched as the guards wheeled the shipping container over to the clear display case by the Dollhouse entrance where Mimi was standing immobilized, still deaf, dumb, blind, and featureless. They flipped open the heavy lid of the armored, padded box, then they tilted Mimi's display case, lifted it up, and lowered it into the larger, opaque container. Mimi might well have been squealing in surprise as her world flipped on its side with no explanation, but the noise canceling rubber plug in her mouth would have utterly stifled her cries.

The lid swung shut with a heavy 'thud,' and one of the guards flipped closed a secure-looking metal latch over the opening.

Nicole gave the two guards a little salute, as if thanking them for their service, as they wheeled the packaged and shipment-ready maid-doll back over to the open Vault door, where she disappeared from Mittens' view.

Mimi wouldn't be able to see whatever was in the Vault, and its secrets would remain reserved for Barbie and the HaremCo staff. Mittens wondered if they were going to cover her kennel or blindfold her in some way, or if she was going to see the inside of the mysterious, high-security room. She wasn't sure if a little kitty like herself needed to know whatever was being hidden in there.

Moments later, another guard came through the Vault door, carrying a black tarp and pushing another flat dolly, smaller than the one they'd used for Mimi's container. The tarp answered Mittens' question: her cage would be covered. He walked over to her cage, and latched the door closed without bothering to padlock it. Mittens couldn't open it with her fingerless paws and tiny kitty brain, anyway.

"Good to see you again, Mittens," it was always strange to be recognized by strangers, but it was somehow comforting to know that Mittens was a well-liked kitty, known and loved by the staff at the HaremCo compound, "I know being transported in a crate can be scary for pets, so let me throw this tarp over your cage. I've heard the dark and the enclosed space makes animals feel safe, like they're tucked away in a little den or burrow. Hopefully this'll keep you nice and calm until we get to the Kennels.

Mittens was plunged into darkness as the guard threw the tarp over the kennel. Then, she felt the kennel being lifted up by the massive, burly guard, and placed gently on the wheeled furniture dolly.

With a few little squeaks of the wheels and the blind feeling of swiveling in space, Mittens felt her kennel begin to roll forward, turning once, rolling over a different surface from the dollhouse floor, and finally going over a tiny bump once, twice with each set of wheels, and stopping. She heard a great electronic hum and jolted downward suddenly; she must be in an elevator that the guards used to ship dolls and kenneled FreakPets to and from the Dollhouse, through the highly-secured and secret Vault.

With a 'ding', the elevator stopped, and she rolled away, listening to the squeaks of the dolly's wheels and the guard's casual whistling as he pushed her to the Kennels.

Mittens curled up in the dark and yawned, causing a lazy purr to sound from her voicebox. The motion of her kennel, the darkness, and the stress of her first day as a kitty were putting her to sleep.

She wasn't sure if she fell asleep or not, so she couldn't tell how long she'd been rolling along, but, eventually, the guard stopped and said, "All right, Mittens, we're here. I'm handing you off to Master Nate, he's a trainer at the Kennels. He'll be in charge of you while you stay at the kennels, so you be a good girl and listen to him. Play nice, and reflect well on your Mistress, Barbie."

The light blinded her for a moment as the tarp was ripped from her kennel, and she closed her eyes as she heard the metal latch of her kennel flipping up and the door swinging open.

A gentle, soothing voice she didn't recognize cooed, "Here, kitty, kitty...psst psst...c'mere, girl. I'm Nate, and I'll take good care of you here at the Kennels. Come on out and meet your new friends, Mittens!"

Mittens' eyes slowly adjusted, and she looked up to see a kind-looking man, dressed in all black like most HaremCo staff, but with a mop of dirty blonde hair, a crooked, sincere smile, and no helmet or mirrored visor like the guards wore to hide his face. He looked sweet, and trustworthy, and Mittens took a tentative step forward, hesitantly approaching the exit of her kennel.

"That's it, girl. Watch your step, there's a little ramp. Come get some pets, kitty! Psst psst!"

Master Nate reached his hand down, just outside Mittens' cage and down a short ramp to the floor. Mittens hoped Nate would be kind to her, and that she'd be safe and happy in her new environment. She took a leap of faith and bounded out of the cage, pushing her head against Nate's outstretched hand so it brushed her ears and triggered their touch sensors, causing little pulses of vibration to erupt from the vibroshock egg still lodged inside her.

"Good girl! That's my sweet kitty," Nate continued petting Mittens, while reaching up and closing a grated metal gate that Mittens had just stepped through on her way out of her cage. The way out of the Kennels' play area was now walled off by a four-foot metal fence, which would be more than enough to keep women who were kept unable to stand up trapped inside.

Mittens looked around her, and was amazed at the sights that filled her pinprick viewholes as she swiveled her masked head around. She scanned the play area, the pets that played and lazed around on its soft, padded, gymnasium-mat floor, the myriads of toys, play equipment, and the massive foam obstacle course erected on one side of the expansive petgirl arena, and the wall of wire kennels and larger, steel-slatted pens, stacked one on top of the other, on the far side of the area.

She saw a few FreakPets like herself, but no kitties.There was a plump, pink piggy with a coiled tail and snuffling snout in a suit that Mittens could tell was inflated in the abdomen and shaped to force the wearer's arms and legs into bent positions, making her crawl around on her elbows and knees as if she had stubby little pig's legs. She also saw an orange and white rubber fox, with a bushy tail and a graceful, slender snout, that made a strange, chattering squeal with its vulpine voicebox. Mittens hadn't known foxes sounded like that, but she thought the tapered, red-orange vixen was sleek and elegant, a gorgeous creature. Lastly, there was a petgirl in a spotted, black and white FreakPet suit modeled to look like a Dalmatian, with a long rubber snout and limp, flopping rubber ears.

Most of the petgirls, however, were more or less ordinary slavegirls, nude-looking in their skinsuits, with padded, black leather bondage mitts on their hands and heavy-duty kneepads on their knees to help them crawl along. Their ankles were tied to their thighs with black leather straps, so they were forced to crawl on their hands and knees. It looked a bit uncomfortable, and Mittens was glad she didn't need to have her legs tied up like that. If she stood up on her feet, the pressure sensors in her paw-print pads would shock her feet and force her back on her knees.

That was about the only way Mittens was more comfortable than these women, though. She was a fully transformed rubber kitty, with a feline face mask and a full-body suit locked on, but these women were just that: women. They mostly wore muzzles, usually a black leather affair with a face harness, fake ears, a protruding snout, and some kind of gag underneath the muzzle. Some of them simply wore ballgags, or permaseals, and had little whiskers or black puppy noses drawn on their faces. These girls were obviously newbies, and they were slowly being acclimated to bondage and petplay.

All the petgirls' hair flowed freely, and their human eyes peered over their gags, emoting and making real eye contact with each other, and Mittens, and their trainers. Obviously, they were all collared and leashed, and every single one of the slavegirls were engaged in kitty play or puppy play: there were no bizarre or humiliating animals.

Mittens realized how special she was for skipping through all this training and slow-walking most slavegirls got, skipping right to the most advanced level of petplay by becoming a FreakPet on her first day. This should be easy for her, she would show these slavegirl wanna-be pets how it was done!

She sat pretty, rearing up on her haunches and dangling her paws for Nate, who gave her a smile and a little round of applause, "Bravo, Mittens! What a performance! I love a kitty who's eager to please. We're having free-play time right now, no lessons or competitions. Feel free to socialize with the other pets, just don't hold it against them if their gagtalk isn't as cute and realistic as your high-tech voicebox. You're a pro, so play along if these girls are a little awkward, and...you know, human. No fighting over toys, just share or play with them together. Oh, and you're free to just curl up and nap if you're tired. Cuddle up with anyone who's already laying down, it's a Kennel rule that no snuggle attempts may be refused. Understood, girl?"

"Mee-yow!" Mittens nodded and tossed her head in the air, vain of her feline grace and panache.

"All right, have at it! We've got about three hours till bedtime, when we'll send you and the other FreakPets back to the Dollhouse to undress before you return to your quarters. Remember, it's polite not to reveal any FreakPets' or Dolls' identities to other slavegirls. That's why you're just Mittens to me, isn't that nice?"

That hadn't quite sunk in for Mittens until Master Nate pointed it out. Everyone at the Dollhouse knew who she'd been before she became a kitty, even Nicole and Dominic, who hadn't been there when she'd been suited up. But no one, not these petgirls or even her current Master, had any concept of anything besides her happy, cartoonish kitty expression, her white latex skin with its pink paw pads and accents, and her slinking, crawling gait that trailed her tail serpentine behind her as she crawled.

She didn't have to pretend to be anything but Mittens here. She was free to be herself, to be known and to play as the adorable little innocent kitty she'd truly become since she adopted the role.

With a grateful "Mew!" and a nuzzle against Nate's leg, Mittens bounded into the throng of mittened, muzzled petgirls, purring and chattering in her mewling language to any kitty or puppygirl who would listen, eager to play with someone, to introduce herself to the world, and to find the one puppygirl she was really excited to see: the sweet, submissive brunette, Abby, that her blue-haired slavegirl alter-ego shared her quarters with.

---

Mimi was lost in her visions, and she had no idea how long it had been since she'd been blindfolded, gagged, and had her crotch smoothed over with the double-dildo rubber panties Barbie and Nicole had put on her before they'd locked her in a display case. She hadn't heard anything but the soft, hypnotic music playing through the deafening earmuffs they'd placed over her ears, and even her own wordless moans were muffled to nearly nothing in her own head, cancelled out by the compensatory vibrations in the rubber plug of her gag.

She felt weightless, formless, suspended in air like a vapor. Her thoughts had become wordless, and her emotions danced in the fantastic forms of spectral waves of energy in her mind's eye. She felt sometimes like someone was in the empty space of her mind with her: a protective, authoritative patriarchal presence, like an archetypal father, a benevolent regent, or a God.

Then, after a stretch of boundless, unmarked time that could have been mistaken for a cosmic age, Mimi suddenly came back to herself, a dim awareness of her body, her bondage and confinement in the box, and the fact that someone had started moving her around around the time that Dominic was supposed to visit the Dollhouse creeping back into her consciousness. What was happening? Was Dominic taking her somewhere? Was she being moved around the compound? There was no way to tell in her utter sensory deprivation. She only had a vague sense of motion and gravity.

That was what had suddenly brought her back to herself, she realized: she wasn't moving any more, and gravity was fixed, at a slight angle from horizontal, as though she were lying on her back on a hill. She dimly felt a series of sharp vibrations through the walls of her container and whatever had been sealed around it, then her world wobbled as if there'd been a minor earthquake, and she felt herself sliding down at an angle, then lifted up again and bounced slightly up and down with a steady forward motion as though men were carrying her box on their shoulders.

She must have arrived at her destination, and she was being carried to wherever her transporters were going to drop her off.

Sure enough, a minute or two later, she felt gravity rotate around her, pulling her feet rather than her back downward to Earth. Her container had been stood back up, ready to be opened so her owner could untie her restraints, take her out of her box, and peel off the anonymizing, feature-erasing attachments Barbie had used to gag, blindfold, and penetrate poor Mimi. She had no idea how long it would be until her box would be opened, but she hoped her Master decided to use her soon so she could move and see and hear again.

She'd be the best maid-doll there'd ever been if someone would just free her, please, from her sense-deprived, paralyzed imprisonment in her own mind.

She wondered if she'd even know when they opened the container they'd put around her plexiglass display case. Probably not. She'd barely noticed when they'd put it on, and mostly just assumed they had since her since of motion told her they'd driven her somewhere. She wouldn't notice anything until somebody touched her body, or took off the blindfold, or the noise-canceling earphones. It would shock her, she was sure, the moment her senses suddenly came back on, and the sounds of the hypnotic music in her dark world would give way to a whole spectrum of sensation she'd been cut off from.

Ages passed, or seconds, perhaps. Mimi decided to count her breaths, to give herself a marker of time, some sense of how long she was really waiting. She kept losing count, getting lost in her visions of dancing and performing onstage for her Master, for the other slavegirls, for all her exes at one point, and most recently, for a cheering throng of American patriots, waving flags and popping red, white and blue confetti crackers in the air. The audience kept changing, but her silenced, involuntary dance and the way her viewers' gaze felt on her body as it moved on command were always the same.

Something like one hundred and twenty breaths later, she felt the restraints on her wrists begin to loosen. She squealed into her gag in surprise, and the little high-pitched noise was swallowed by the noise-cancelling vibrations of the plug in her mouth. She still couldn't see or hear, but she felt her wrists come free, then the bands around her neck and ankles began to loosen. Once the twist-ties came free, no longer pinning her to the back of her box, she shuffled briefly to the center of the box, dropping her hands to the side and standing dutifully at attention.

They took her earphones off first, and the ambience of the room was indescribably beautiful to Mimi. She hadn't noticed before, but space had a sound to it, and she'd been lost in an abyss with the droning soundscape playing in her ears while the earphones cancelled out all outside noise.

Someone spoke. It was wonderful to hear a voice. Mimi hadn't even been able to hear her own for God only knew how long.

"Hello there, Mimi. I'm Dominic, and I'm your new Master. I saw you in your display case at the Dollhouse, and I just had to bring you home to play with you myself. You wouldn't have been able to see or hear me, of course, so this is the first time we're meeting. It will be a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, once I get you out of all that 'packaging' Barbie used to cover up your lovely features," a warm, gently gravelly man's voice entered her ears, and made her melt: it was her Master, her savior, the one person she'd hoped most would rescue her from the dark silence of her box.

Dominic had shipped her from the Dollhouse to his home, and now he was going to play with her! She couldn't wait.

Something tugged at her rubber scalp, and she felt the swim cap come off of her head.

"What lovely blonde hair you have, Mimi! Let me straighten that up for you," she felt fingers combing gently through the wig attached to her dollsuit's rubber scalp, and she felt her face get hot under her latex mask, flushing at the thrill she was getting from the attention. It was so good to be touched again, and to hear a kind voice.

"Now I don't want you to be surprised when I take off your blindfold, so Mimi, get ready to meet some very important friends of mine: Senator Blume and his lovely wife, Vonka!" Mimi felt the tug of her latex blindfold, its color matched to her skin to mask her eyes like a featureless rubber doll, as Dominic peeled it off, and light pierced through the viewholes in the pupils of her expressionless blue doll's eyes.

Mimi squinted her real eyes shut, the light too blinding after so long in the dark. But, as she tried to adjust her eyes to get a look at her surroundings, she heard voices she recognized, voices that weren't Dominic's.

"Pleased to meet you, Mimi," said a smarmy, media-trained voice in the performative drawl of a Yale graduate posing as a cowboy, "I've heard very impressive things about how HaremCo designs and trains dolls like yourself. Maybe I should hire you as a maid-doll to tidy up my ranch one of these days, since Vonka's such a lazy housekeeper. Or, maybe I should get you into one of these suits, Vonka! What do you think, honey? We know how you love sharing your opinions, speak up!"

"Ahm thawreh ahh duhh kkhleengh ghuh. Ahwl wugkh hah-duhh. Puh-wuh-leethe, nuh shood," a woman's slurred, labored babble made a pained response. It sounded like the person the voice belonged to may have had an accent, but it was hard to tell when her speech was so impaired. She sounded shy and reluctant, like she was embarrassed to speak in such an undignified way.

Mimi knew who she expected to see, and when her eyes adjusted, she saw Senator Blume, the presidential candidate who Samantha had helped Dominic and Sean convince to partner with HaremCo and promote the Male Guardianship Act, along with his ultra-gorgeous, wildly superficial, blonde Russian mail-order trophy wife, Vonka. They were seated at a dining table, sipping on cocktails over dishes of mostly-eaten food.

Dominic, who was standing in front of the box in which she still stood, in the corner of the dining room, had obviously been having a dinner party with the politician and his wife. Vonka was uncharacteristically meek and downcast, keeping her head down and staying quiet. That was probably because was wearing a garble: a rubber tongue-sheath affixed by a glued-in mouthguard that Dominic had provided Blume with at their previous dinner. It seemed like the garble's intended behavioral conditioning was working on the woman: she'd been conditioned to prefer the dignity of silence over the embarrassment of sharing her opinions with her clumsy tongue encased in a latex sheath expressly designed to make a woman sound ridiculous and laughable.

They'd finished their meal, and no doubt Dominic had unpackaged Mimi in front of them to show off HaremCo's incredible dollsuit innovations, and the sheer power Dominic had to order a living rubber maid-doll to his home, with same-day delivery. He was living the dream he wanted to sell to Blume, and to America, and Mimi was a pretty, shiny prize to be won by the sort of man who could deliver what HaremCo wanted: the normalization and legalization of its practices, and for society to view total submission as a valid and desirable form of marriage.

"She's awful quiet, isn't she, Dom?" Senator Blume chuckled softly as he sipped an old fashioned, "does she have a mouth under another bit of 'packaging'? Even if she is gagged, she's not even whimpering. The poor thing still has vocal cords, doesn't she?"

"I'm glad you asked!" Dominic squeezed Mimi's cheeks, pushing her gag's plug out of her mouth a bit so its outline showed in the flesh-tone latex of the gag that still rendered her looking mouthless, "like the other 'featureless' attachments to her dollsuit, this gag matches her skin perfectly, giving her a de-personified, drone-like appearance. But that's not all: the plug inside detects the vibrations of the sounds she makes, and vibrates in a pattern that cancels out her attempts at moaning and whimpering. It's like noise-cancelling headphones, and it can reduce the sound of her vocalizations by almost ninety percent."

"That's incredible! I don't need a gag like that for Vonka, that garble you gave me is really working! She doesn't talk unless she has to, or if I make her. And she can even eat and drink, so I don't have to take it out all day long! It's so discreet I've even been taking her to campaign events again, no one can tell she's garbled if she doesn't open her mouth, and she doesn't embarrass me in front of the press anymore. Isn't that right, sweetheart?" Blume shot a nasty, toothy grin at his wife, and she nodded, giving him a shy, "Mm-hmm..."

"That's wonderful to hear! HaremCo is committed to creating bondage technologies that allow for discretion, normalcy, and a natural look. In a similar vein, take a look at the newmouth feature of Mimi's dollsuit," Dominic unfastened the rubbery gag at the back of her neck, and slid the smooth, noise-cancelling plug out of her rubber-lined mouth with a 'pop'.

"Uhmmmhhh..." Mimi closed her mouth for the first time in what felt like forever, the hot pink, ultrathin latex encasing her lips creasing slightly at the corners of her mouth as she pursed them together. She was finally seen again, finally pretty like she deserved to be, and she resisted the urge to wave to everybody. Now wasn't the time to be having ideas of her own.

"Vonka has a lipstick in that color, don't you, sweetheart?" Blume was teasing, but Vonka was nodding in approval, eyebrows raised in surprised admiration of Mimi's tanned, glamorously made-up look. It felt wonderful for a real woman, a gorgeous woman at that, to think that Mimi was beautiful as a doll. It was hard not to feel self-conscious of her blank, doll-like expression, hard not to feel inferior as a plastic imitation of a real woman.

"Show my guests a little smile, won't you, Mimi?" Dominic placed his hand on her shoulder, and it tingled with warmth from the chemicals in the skinsuit underneath her dollsuit.

She obediently parted her lips, stretching them as wide as her latex mask and the lips of the integrated newmouth would allow, showing the white rubber mouthguards molded to approximate teeth and gums to the room and hoping it didn't look too awkward of a grimace. Mimi wished she had more practice with her newmouth, remembering how Nicole had managed her cute expressions, and gag-talked sweetly with less awkwardness.

"Beautiful, Mimi! Latex masks are a lot of fun, but it's wonderful to see how happy it makes a woman to be your perfect plaything. That's one reason our top-of-the-line dollsuits feature newmouth inserts. That, and it leaves Mimi's rubbery mouth accessible for gags, or kisses, or anything else you can think of. Open up, Mimi, and show us that latex tongue. Maybe Vonka won't feel so singled out when she sees this!"

Mimi opened her jaw as wide as she could, the latex of her mask tightening as it stretched. Her mouthguards parted and she pushed out her pink, rubber-coated tongue, managing to get its tip past her lips and holding it there, groaning softly, "Ugh....uh, uhh, nguhh..." with the effort. She hoped she'd get the hang of moving her newmouth, and she resolved to practice using it whenever she got the chance. Maybe she could practice expressions in the mirror, or do gag-talk drills like the vocal warm-ups she'd done as her other self before going on camera.

"Look at that, Vonka, that garble isn't so bad, is it? We could've coated your whole mouth in rubber instead of just your tongue! Mimi can't talk at all, either. I'm getting the sense that's not how that doll's mouth is meant to be used, anyway. Man, you folks at HaremCo never cease to come up with new ways to amaze me," Blume folded up his napkin and tossed it on the table, then downed the last of his cocktail.

"Say, Dominic, I don't mean to be impolite, but Mimi is this doll-maid-thing's name, right? So, who's really locked in that suit? Some slavegirl you've trained for years to live in a gimp suit, or maybe someone who lost a bet?" Blume inquired, and Vonka's ears perked up as she looked up to Dominic, eager if apprehensive to learn the answer.

"Well, it's important, and respectful, to take Mimi at face value and treat her as the pretty rubber doll that she is. It can be upsetting to remind a doll that their identity is manufactured by us, and locked onto them in the form of a rubber suit. Referring to Mimi by her old name would be a taboo, and might make her deeply anxious," Dominic was right, Samantha kept creeping up out of the darkness in Mimi's mind, and she wasn't sure how she'd feel about being seen trapped in a dollsuit by this powerful man and his wife. She whimpered softly, hoping she could just stay Mimi, a helpful, pretty plaything, rather than feeling like a humiliated captive, a powerful woman brought low. She didn't think she could be happy like that.

"But I can tell you that this is actually Mimi's first day as a maid-doll, and we're very impressed with her. She's an exceptional woman, and you wouldn't be surprised she was so special if you knew who she was, once upon a time. She may just have been someone you're familiar with," Dominic said with a wink and a grin, and Blume smiled back, nodding his understanding. He was duly impressed that Dominic had, in the span of a couple days, made a maid-doll of the conservative author and pundit Samantha Steele, but he wasn't going to remind the poor woman of that and force her to break character. She was doing a good job as a doll, and she didn't deserve that psychological strain.

"Absolutely incredible, Dominic. If she is who I think she is, I'm impressed beyond words, but I won't press further. I think I understand: Mimi's just Mimi now. I look forward to re-feminizing the modern American woman with you and your company, sir. I'm so glad you were able to show me the wonderful playthings produced at your Dollhouse before I had to leave," Senator Blume stood up and grabbed Vonka's leash, yanking her up out of her seat by her collar.

"Duty calls?" Dominic asked, and Blume gave a 'what can you do?' shrug.

"Thank you for a lovely dinner, and giving me a lot to think about as we chart the course to legalizing Male Guardianship. And congratulations on your lovely new toy! I'm sure you're eager to play with your new doll, once she's cleaned up after dinner. So, I'll be off. Meetings, meetings, and more meetings, you know?"

"Oh, I can imagine," Dominic shook Blume's hand, and the two headed off towards the front door without bothering to say goodbye to Mimi or Vonka, which was fine. Vonka would have preferred not to speak, and Mimi couldn't have articulated a farewell. She'd have to work on making a 'buh' sound when she got the chance.

"Mimi, clear the table and run the dishwasher while I show our future President out," Dominic called back to her over her shoulder, and Mimi quickly shuffled out of her box, glad to finally be allowed to move around, even if she was still locked in her high heels, not to mention a rubber dollsuit with nano-wires meshed into its latex that could freeze her in position at the command of a smartphone app.

She found herself crossing her legs as she walked around the table, gathering dishes. She thought it would look dainty and classy for a maid to walk like that, but mostly she did it for the feeling in her pussy and ass, which still contained the smooth plastic plugs inside her smooth, beige rubber panties. She was lucky to discover that Barbie had left her vibroshock nodes on touch-sensitive mode, so as the plug slid and rubbed around inside her, it triggered little vibrations in her clit and g-spot nodes.

She might have been tempted to try to make herself cum, but she had a task to do. It felt wonderful to be of service to her Master, and she couldn't wait to hear his praise when she finished clearing the table before he got back. She'd show him she could be trusted to remain obedient when he wasn't watching.

She found the sink and piled all the dishes into it, then began spraying them all off and loading them into the dishwasher, humming and rubbing her legs together as she worked. She had a distant memory of seeing a social media trad-wife washing dishes while wearing rubber gloves and wearing a tape gag. It seemed so quaint compared to wearing a dollsuit, much less being packaged and shipped like an object, but Mimi enjoyed her quiet moment of domestic servitude.

She started the dishwasher and washed her hands, still wearing the long white latex gloves that were part of her maid uniform, and wanting to make sure they stayed pristine. She dried them and wondered what to do, with her task finished and no further instruction. She was just a mindless doll, after all, and she wasn't expected to have ideas of her own.

Still, her heels were killing her. She dropped to her knees by the sink, where her Master would expect her to be after following his orders, and waited patiently with her hands folded in her lap. They were just a few inches from her tingling, swollen pussy, but she couldn't let Dominic walk around the corner and catch her with her hands under her skirt. Besides, it was him she really wanted down there.

She waited a few minutes, hearing nothing and becoming more disappointed with every second she didn't see her Master's face coming around the corner. Then, suddenly, the vibroshock nodes in her crotch buzzed three quick times, letting her know she was in hot-cold mode.

Her Master had assigned a new location for her on the HaremCo app, and she scrambled to her feet, ready to follow the shocks and buzzes the vibroshock nodes on her clit and g-spot would use to guide her to her designated spot.

She went the wrong way out of the dining room and received a shock, then wheeled around and walked the other way, making soft happy moaning sounds as the nodes vibrations' grew to let her know she was going the right way.

Mimi was led by her vibroshock nodes through an expansive living room with a gorgeous hardwood floor and beautiful mahogany ceiling rafters. Dominic had taste, and must have had means as well to afford such a nice home so close to Hollywood. She followed the buzzes up a tall staircase and down a hallway on the second story. Finally, she passed an open doorway and received a shock, having overshot her route, then doubled back and walked into a large, cozy master bedroom, with a four-poster bed and the kennel that Samantha had slept in the night before her training began at its foot.

The vibrations built as she approached the bed, and she climbed in, lying flat on her back in the center of the bed as the pulses in her pussy merged into a constant, powerful vibration: a reward for reaching her assigned spot. Once it died down, she knew she was locked in place, so she waited, motionless like a good doll.

A minute or so later, Dominic emerged from the bathroom, shirtless and wearing black pajama pants, with a small tablet strapped to his wrist, as HaremCo's trainers liked to do. Mimi remained silent and motionless as she lay on the bed, but she could barely contain her excitement: her Master was definitely about to play with her!

As if responding to her thoughts, her vibroshock nodes lit up with a wave of vibrations, as Dominic walked to the side of the bed and spoke in a soft but firmly commanding voice, "Out of bed, Mimi. Why don't you stand up and take off that maid uniform? Stockings, gloves, dress and all. You can leave those double-dildo panties in, though. I bet they feel pretty nice right about now."

Mimi nodded and gave an, "mm-hmm!" as she climbed out of bed and stood just beside her master, her body tingling at their closeness, and began stripping out of her black latex dress with its white frilly trip, her long, white shoulder-length latex gloves, the matching stockings, and the white choker with all the bells on her neck. She was almost as naked as a maid-doll could get, and, actually, wasn't really much of a maid anymore in her bare RealDoll Mk.3's tanned skin. Only the smooth rubber of her dildo panties covered her most womanly parts, and she felt exposed even dressed in two full-body latex suits, with her nude-looking skinsuit, lined with its tingling sensitizing lube, under her dollsuit.

She tried to unbuckle her heels, the thing she most wanted to be rid of, but the tiny padlocks on their straps thwarted her, and she let out a series of frustrated whimpers, "Umph! Uhm-hm-hmmmmmph..."

Dominic produced a little pouch from the pocket of his pajamas, "Don't worry, Barbie gave me all your keys, included in your packaging. Let me help you," he knelt down and Mimi allowed him to unlock and gently remove her heels, almost giddy with relief and gratitude to her Master for finally freeing her from the painful, challenging footwear. Her feet were still sore, but as she buried her rubbery soles in the soft carpet and wiggled her freed, latex-covered toes, she felt so relieved she practically wished she could have purred like Mittens. Instead, she gave a grateful moan, "Muh-muh-huhmmmm..."

"There you go. Would you like me to unlock that zipper on your back, Mimi? Now that you're in your Master's bedroom, do you want to become a woman again, and serve me as a slavegirl, or are you happy as my plaything?" Dominic stroked her cheek with one hand while holding up a small key, the one that would unlock her dollsuit's zipper and let Mimi peel away her whole identity, leaving the overwhelmed, unsure-of-herself woman she'd been before the dollsuit clarified her role to pick up the pieces, to come to terms with having let Mimi take control of her very thoughts.

Mimi shook her head and said, "Hmm-uhmm, hmm-uhm!!"

Dominic smiled and placed the key back in its pouch, "That's the correct answer. I knew I made the right choice sending you to Barbie, and I knew she'd be just the person to make a real doll of you, Mimi. A true doll, a really happy plaything, isn't afflicted with desires beyond their role. It's nothing to be ashamed of, it just means you love yourself, Mimi. It means you'll be content and secure in your role until your Master decides he wants your old slavegirl self back, if he decides that at all. I'm very proud of you, and I think you deserve a reward."

Mimi's heart brimmed with pride and she nuzzled her cheek back against her Master's caress. This was everything she'd wanted, toiling all day under Barbie's thumb and creating a new persona for herself to inhabit, one that would keep her safe and keep her Mistress, and eventually, Master Dominic himself, pleased with her. She made happy little muffled noises with her rubber-lined mouth, and found herself awkwardly trying to bite her lower lip. Her pelvic floor was spasming, clenching her pussy's walls and her anal muscles onto the smooth dildos inside her latex orifice sheaths.

"On your knees, Mimi, with your hands behind your head. And stick your chest out," Dominic commanded, and Mimi dropped to her knees, laced her fingers behind her head, and arched her back, looking up at Dominic with her expressionless blue doll's eyes and pushing her breasts out and up for his access.

As soon as she assumed the position, she felt her dollsuit harden, the nano-weave embedded in its latex skin stiffening and constricting until she was locked in her pose. The RealDoll Mk.3 truly was a marvel of bondage technology.

"Mouth open."

She opened the hot-pink lips of her newmouth and felt her cheeks, jaw, and even her tongue freeze in place, as her Master entered commands in his wrist-tablet to harden even the mouth and face of her suit.

"Ughhh...nghuuuhh..." her mouth agape and her loins on fire with the pulses from her suit's clitoral and g-spot vibroshock nodes, she watched helplessly, completely frozen in place like an inanimate rubber doll, as her master unbuttoned the fly of his pajama bottoms.

"I remember promising a certain someone that if they performed well at the Dollhouse, I'd give them a little taste of this," Dominic had finished unbuttoning, and Mimi couldn't take her eyes off his crotch, dying to finally see her Master's sex before it filled her rubber-lined mouth.

He didn't disappoint.

"Uh, ughh, uuuuhhh-MMPH!"

Somehow, the rubbery latex newmouth sheathing her tongue and encasing her lips and teeth had never tasted so good.

---

Mittens purred softly as she wiggled her hips backward into the soft, rubbery flesh of Abby's skinsuited stomach. Her eyes were drooping, under her molded rubber kitty mask, and the little pinholes of light in her cartoonish catlike eyes were blinking in and out as she struggled to stay awake.

She'd known that Abby would love her, and Mittens knew that once she found her roommate in her puppygirl getup at the Kennels, she'd become her canine companion in turn.

Abby and Mittens had locked eyes, when they met, sizing each other up and padding up to each other slowly and cautiously as each petgirl appraised the other. Abby must have seen the other FreakPet girls crawling around the kennels, but Mittens didn't know how she felt about the rubberized petgirls with their cartoonish rubber faces and the freaky voiceboxes that stifled their moans and turned them into animalistic woofs and oinks and meows. Would she find Mittens adorable, or scary?

Abby looked naked in her skinsuit, with her rubber nipples and crotch out in the open and the seam between the fleshtone latex suit and the skin of her neck and face impossible to discern due to how perfectly they matched. She wore the standard locked leather collar with attached leash, preventing the suit from being removed, and she had a permaseal plaster over her skinsuit's plastic pussy, no doubt holding in a vibroshock egg like the one underneath Mittens' smooth white latex crotch. It gave the puppygirl a rubbery cameltoe, and it meant that her trainer could vibe and shock her remotely, controlling her movements and providing constant discipline.

Of course, her rubber-lined ass was plugged, with a long leather tail the same size as Mittens' white latex one trailing behind her from the base of the plug.

Her paw-print mitts were made of sturdy, black padded leather, as were her kneepads and the straps that held her ankles to her thighs, keeping her legs bent in half and forcing her to walk on her padded knees. Her headgear, too, was black leather, with two black doggy ears flopping around on the side of her head, her human ears still visible between the straps of the muzzle's head harness. It had a protruding snout that covered Abby's cute button nose and her mouth, all the way down to below her chin, and she was drooling all the way down the muzzle's canine jaws from some gag the muzzle kept in her mouth.

She still looked human, her gorgeous body nude and shiny, her mousy brunette hair flowing down past her black dog's ears, her pretty brown eyes and the freckles on her cheeks visible above the black canine muzzle. It was a far cry from Mittens' total anonymity and transformation into a white-and-pink rubber kitty, but Mittens was glad she could see and recognize the gentle, sweet slavegirl, and glad that Abby could only see Mittens for what she was: herself.

"Mee-yowrrrrr...prr p-p-prrrr..." Mittens tentatively approached, her tail dragging slowly behind her, and she held out a paw to the hesitant puppygirl.

Abby leaned forward and made a little snuffling noise, 'sniff, sniff' as though catching Mittens' scent from her paw. Mittens could have just about melted at how cute her puppylike mannerisms were. She was so excited to see the slavegirl adopting a canine petgirl role, and she knew Abby would be drop-dead sexy in a muzzle.

"Yiph, yipph?" Abby made small noises like a dog whining around whatever gag was in her mouth. It sounded like a ballgag, something that let her lips move but filled her mouth, but Mittens couldn't be sure, and it didn't matter: she was speaking perfectly well, for a pup.

Mittens padded to the side a few steps and Abby circled with her, then she started purring and closed the distance, staring right into Abby's glistening brown eyes with her printed-on cartoon cat gaze.

Then, she'd rubbed herself on Abby, running her side along the crawling puppygirl as she circled around her on all fours and purred loudly. Abby stayed still, but subtly pressed her body back into Mittens'. The affection was sublime, pure, and wholesome, but it also sent a tremor through Mittens' vibroshock-stuffed loins. She wanted to feel Abby's body all over hers, wanted to touch her and play with her new puppy pal.

When she completed her circle, Abby's eyes were smiling, and she dropped low on her front paws, barking, "Wumph! Wuh-wuh-whuuhhph!" with a soft, wet sputtering sound as she spit around the gag lodged in her mouth. She shook her ass, lifted in the air by her knees as she crouched low on the ground, and her black buttplug-tail wagged excitedly as she did so.

Mittens followed suit, pouncing low on the ground in the universal 'let's play!' posture, and letting out a playful roar, "RAWR! Me-me-mew, mew-myowr!"

Abby spun excitedly in a circle, and Mittens was impressed by the vigor and speed the puppygirl displayed. She was coordinated and almost athletic in her fettered crawl, and Mittens knew she'd have to work hard to keep up. Mittens wished her suit had bigger kneepads, like Abby's, but two layers of reinforced latex managed plus the plush softness of the Kennels' padded floor managed to prevent her knees from bruising.

Abby had bounded off to the part of the room where the toys were gathered, and Mittens gave chase, panting hard through the breathing tubes in her nostrils and trying not to run into any of the other petgirls. It was hard to be aware of her surroundings through the little holes in her mask's feline eyes, and she barely avoided a collision with a catgirl who meandered into her path.

As they brushed past each other, Mittens let out a "Me-meow!" in apology, and the other woman squealed a startled, "Hrm-mm-mph!" through the permaseal glued to her mouth. The rubber plaster, matched to the catgirl's skin tone, had a little anime-style cat mouth printed on it, with whiskers on the cheeks. Her eyes were wide with surprise, her eyebrows raised beneath her kitty-ear headband, and Mittens didn't think the other petgirl was very convincing in her feline role. She just looked and behaved like a bound and gagged woman, and Mittens felt a shameless rush of superiority.

Mittens was the real deal, a full on rubber kitty with her own identity and personality; most of these other petgirls were just awkward, helpless women. It might take them weeks or months before they were ready to try on a FreakPet suit, let alone adopt a petgirl persona. Mittens was special, and as she scampered up to Abby, who was panting and huffing with her tail wagging as she waited for Mittens to catch up, she knew Abby was like her: she had sunk her teeth into the role of a playful puppy, and she relished the escape from adult, womanly concerns.

She was going to get along splendidly with her new canine playmate. She nuzzled her face against Abby's muzzle, and the petgirl made sweet, puppylike whines and pressed back against her affection.

Mittens batted a shiny blue rubber ball around the size of a soccer ball over towards a corner of the play area, and scampered off after it with an excited "Mew! Me-me-mew!"

She was quickly overtaken by Abby, who pounced on the ball, pinning it to the ground mid-bounce with her leather mitts, then pretending to bite at her captured prey with her toothless black snout, growling, "Rrr-rrgh-rrr! Wrrruph! Wruff!" around the gag inside her muzzle.

When Mittens had pawed at the ball in Abby's grip, mewling plaintively but sneakily waiting to steal the toy, Abby had pounced on her with a "Whuph!", a gleaming smile in her doe-like brown eyes as Mittens rolled, shrieking, "YOWRRR!", onto her back. Abby pinned Mittens down with her paws on her chest, straddling her caught kitty across the waist with her bent, strapped legs.

Mittens held her paws up and made a meek attempt to scratch up at Abby, making desperate little "Mew! Mew, mew, meeee-yow!" noises as she pretended to put up a fight. She loved this game, she loved the weight of the puppygirl on top of her, her silky brown hair dangling down from her muzzled face as she smiled down at Mittens' white latex face.

Abby superficially kept up the puppy routine, snuffling and panting as she pretended to nip at Mittens' neck, but her movements had become sensual, and it was more like a nuzzle or a kiss on the rubber kitty's neck than a playful attack. Abby panted and snuffled around her gag, kneading her paws into Mittens' rubbery, nippleless breasts as if on accident, but she knew what she was doing to the pinned petgirl.

Mittens purred up at Abby and caressed her leather snout with a padded latex paw, then slowly, deliberately, thrust her hips up, pressing her pelvis into the underside of Abby's thighs as she straddled her waist. Abby moaned a sloppy, wet "whuph..." and began wiggling her hips as if wagging her tail, gently grinding on Mittens' exposed belly as she made little licking motions, running the tip of her muzzle across Mittens' face. Her muzzle didn't have a tongue, not even a fixed, decorative one like Mittens', but she still left trails of slobber across the white latex of Mittens' cheeks as she two gently moved against each other and pawed softly at each other's bodies.

The chemicals in the lube under Mittens' layers of latex lit her skin up with sparkling tingles of warmth, and she clenched and released the egg-shaped vibroshock in her pussy as she mewled in pleasure while Abby whimpered in response. She wished her trainer would activate the devices inside of Abby and herself, and let them hump each other to orgasm on the padded floor of the Kennels' play area.

Instead, she and Abby squealed in unison, Abby letting out a gagged "HRMPH! Ngh, ngrmph!" while Mittens yowled, "WRAAYRRR!" as their pussies were shocked intensely, but briefly. Abby rolled off of Mittens and onto her back, and the two lay submissively with their bellies exposed as Master Nate strode over to stand over them, fingertips poised over his wrist-mounted tablet in threat, like a finger on the trigger of a gun.

"Now, now, you two don't have permission to rut right now. If you're really in heat, and you can't stop, I'll have to break out the ice water gun. Remember how cold and slippery you got when I sprayed you down for trying to speak in words earlier, Abby?"

Abby's whines suggested that she did, and she wasn't keen to get squirted with freezing water again.

"Now get back to playing, or join the pile and rest up if you're done," Master Nate gestured to a cluster of about a dozen petgirls, including the piggy and Dalmatian FreakPets, all snuggled together in a heap by the wall of cages at the other end of the play area, "but whatever you do, make it cute, and make it canine or feline, respectively. Now, sit."

The two rolled back onto their hands and knees, sitting back on their hindquarters and looking up at their trainer. They each received a little buzz in their nethers, a reward to condition further obedience, but not permission to act like horny subs and rut in their bondage. Mittens should have known better.

"Speak."

"Mee-yow!"

"Wuph, wruph, w-w-whumph!"

Another little pleasant vibration.

"Good girls. Now play nice. Almost time to get dressed for bed, so be good. It'd be a shame if I had to lower your rating because you couldn't keep it together in the final stretch."

Abby and Mittens exchanged a look as Nate walked away, then gave each other a quick nuzzle and trotted back over to the toy pit and selecting a fluffy stuffed squirrel toy with a squeaker in its belly to pass between each other, pawing and pouncing at their squeaking, plushy prey.

They played like this until they started to grow tired. That's when they'd padded over to the big pile of resting petgirls, unable to sleep due to the stim-balls they'd been given that morning, but tuckered out from a long day of training and play.

Abby had snuggled up between a couple other puppygirls, curled up with their leather paw mitts tucked under their heads. Mittens had squeezed herself up against Abby's stomach, finding herself to be a little-spoon kind of kitty, and closed her eyes, purring as she felt the soft expansion and contraction of Abby's latex-covered chest against her own.

After half an hour or so, Master Nate led her back to the door in the Kennels' gate where she'd come in, and opened it to reveal her wire cage, open on the other side. She'd crawled in, curled up, and nearly napped as the guards covered her kennel with the black tarp and wheeled her back to the elevator that would take her up to the secretive Vault in the Dollhouse.

Before long, she was crawling out of her kennel to kneel at Barbie's feet, purring softly as her Mistress stroked her ears. She was too tired to get aroused at the vibrations her touch-sensitive ears triggered in her vibroshock, but she appreciated the gentle affection.

"I'm told you were a good little kitty for Nate at the Kennels. I knew I could count on you. You've come so far in just one day, and I can't wait to have you back at the Dollhouse again, Mittens," Barbie swiped a command into her wrist-tablet, but Mittens didn't notice anything happening.

"I've deactivated the pressure-sensitive shock response in your feet's paw pads. Stand up for me, Mittens. I know it'll feel odd, but you're going to be changing back from a kitty into a bratty little blue-haired slavegirl. Don't freak out, just breathe and let the Mittens persona fade back into you."

Mittens was suddenly more conscious of her fingers, trapped in rubber mitts that weren't her paws, but rather latex bondage gear to render her helpless. She stood up on shaky legs that she suddenly remembered weren't meant for crawling all day long, and chewed nervously on the fleshy silicone mouthplug that had frozen her jaw and tongue in place for nearly twelve hours now. She whimpered and wished she could hear her own voice, the panic and horror of having the mouthplug's noise-cancelling vibrations utterly mute her vocalizations and replace them with mewls threatening to creep into her chest. She had been so calm for so long, but she felt like she was about to hyperventilate.

Barbie unlocked her collar, then unbuckled it and set it on the sales counter. The tight leather belt leaving her throat helped her breathe a little easier, but she still struggled not to panic.

"Easy there, just breathe. You're Lisa, remember? This has just been some fun roleplay, and you got to play a kitty character. Time to come back," Barbie unlocked the zipper on the back of Mittens' suit, and slid the pull-tab all the way up, the rubber of the FreakPet suit loosening from the base of Lisa's spine to the back of her head.

"I'm going to turn off your voicebox, and then we'll take off your hood. Don't speak, let me get you gagged first. It's time for your nite-ball, anyway, and you'll be surprised by the sound of your own voice for a while. Understand?"

Lisa nodded and gave what she expected to be an affirmative, "Mew!"

Instead, she heard a muffled, "Mmph," the feeling of her natural voice and the still mouthplug, no longer vibrating to cancel her noises, felt bizarre and unnatural in her mouth. It was too much. How was she supposed to be Lisa again, just like that?

The latex of her hood peeled away from her face, and the mouthplug slid wetly out of her mouth with a slurping 'pop'. Lisa remained silent and squinted her eyes, unused to suddenly having her full field of vision again. Everything was too bright. There was too much information to process, and she still hadn't come to terms with how she, Lisa, felt about her experiences as Mittens. She couldn't believe she'd played along, even enjoyed herself, and allowed her own personality to be completely replaced by a stupid, humiliating animal persona.

She didn't try to speak, she just kept her eyes closed and let Barbie stuff the squishy rubber nite-ball in her mouth, then plaster a stretchy, ultra-sticky permaseal over her lips and cheeks. She didn't even risk a groan or a grunt; she felt mute, with Mittens' feline voice taken away from her. She'd gotten used to translating her thoughts and feelings into purrs and meows, and she wasn't sure how she felt about making the noises that helpless, gagged women made when someone took their speech from them.

Her hair was wet and matted, and her face and skinsuit were slimy with lube and sweat as the FreakPet suit finally slid off her arms and legs. Barbie replaced her collar, locking it over the neck of her skinsuit, and pulled her simple white slavegirl dress over her nude rubbery body.

Even locked in a rubber bodysuit, semi-permanently gagged with a ball stuffed in her mouth, and at the mercy of her remote-controlled vibroshock, still sealed in her latex-lined pussy by a permaseal over her crotch, Lisa felt so free and unrestricted, it was like being naked. She suddenly had so much freedom, and so much responsibility, with her human posture and her face visible. She had her reputation to uphold again, people would see her, judge her, and now, that same person, that same identity she'd always carried with her, had the knowledge that she'd been turned into a freaky, gimped-up petgirl, and that she'd loved being Barbie's kitten. How could she see herself the same way now?

Barbie gave her a sweet, genuine smile, then hugged her tight.

Lisa gave a gentle, tearless sob, her heart welling up in her throat as she hugged her Mistress back. She needed this comfort, she needed someone to tell her she was okay.

"You're okay, sweetie. What you did today was very hard, and you did better than anyone could have expected. I'm so, so proud of you, Lisa, and I want to see you again, once you've had time to process this experience."

Lisa wasn't too proud to admit she needed this. She needed Barbie. With her Mistress' arms around her, she felt secure, she felt loved, and she knew she wasn't being judged for submitting, for transforming, even, at Barbie's command.

As she silently padded along the hallways of HaremCo's Hollywood compound, her vibroshock leading her, she assumed, back to her quarters to shower, eat, and go to bed, she slowly came to terms with how much she'd participated in, and how much she'd enjoyed, her transformation into Mittens. Nicole had told her to let Dominic know she wanted to go back to the Dollhouse, to play with Barbie and the little brown doll and be part of their little all-female clique. She'd have to do that. If she was being honest, it was an amazing experience, and she'd felt so carefree, so adored and loved as Barbie's rubber pet.

She arrived at her quarters, and the heavy metal door swung open to reveal Jessica and Abby, ungagged and already dressed for bed, their smoothie and water rations half gone. Carol was standing in the entryway, flashing her gorgeous smile and giving Lisa a little wink that suggested she had some idea how crazy her day had been.

Abby gave her a little wave from her bed, and Lisa blushed as she waved back. Abby had no idea Lisa had been the white latex kitty she'd been playing with for the last few hours. She didn't think she had the courage to tell her, either. Just the night before, she'd been so timid, so embarrassed to have worn kitty ears at the Club, and at being made to say "meow" to Abby as they snuggled in bed. What would she think if she learned the haughty, fierce feminist had eagerly crawled around in a rubber petsuit, mewling and purring and desperately begging for pets all day?

Carol got Lisa out of her skinsuit and removed her permaseal and the nite-ball, its dose of sedatives fully delivered, from her mouth. Lisa used the bathroom, showered by herself, and found herself suddenly as ravenous and thirsty as she was sleepy, the nite-ball lulling her to sleep while also restarting her digestion and metabolism after the stim-ball's meds had suppressed them all day.

Lisa emerged, naked, from the bathroom, and quickly put on the soft white nightgown Carol held out to her.

"Where's Samantha?" Lisa asked, looking at the second empty bed, right across from hers, where Samantha should have been. She hadn't thought about Samantha since...well, since she'd become Mimi, and even then, her mind had been on her feline affairs at the Kennels, and she felt guilty for not wondering what had become of the woman. She'd been shipped off to Dominic's house in a massive shipping crate, so maybe he was playing with her, or having her clean his house?

"She'll be back in the morning. Master Dominic has an overnight session planned for her, and he likes to keep the details of some of HaremCo's more advanced training secret from newbie slavegirls that he doesn't think are ready for them," Carol winked meaningfully to Lisa. She must have been told about Samantha's dollification and Lisa's transformation into Mittens, and she was telling Lisa not to reveal what she and Samantha had gone through at the Dollhouse to the other women, "Anyway, how was your shift at the Club today, Lisa? I hear they gave you ears and a tail again."

Another wink. That was fine, Lisa didn't have the courage to admit to Abby that she'd happily played with her less than an hour ago, eagerly playing the part of rubberized, gimp-suited petgirl despite protesting too much about cringy catgirl culture just the night before.

"It was...interesting. I guess I kind of responded to the whole petplay thing this time, it was sort of nice to regress, to let go of all the complications of being a woman. I felt...cute, I guess. It was kind of sweet, and beautiful, to be someone's pet. I should have felt degraded, you know? But...I didn't," Lisa bit her lips and flushed red as Jessica raised an eyebrow incredulously, Abby's ears perked up and a sly smile spread across her lips, and Carol mouthed to her, 'Waitress. Club.'

"So, uh, yeah, I guess being a waitress and wearing kitty ears isn't so bad. Like, I hate all those creepy dudes at the Club, but I got through it," Lisa stammered, trying to keep her cover, and she looked bashfully at Abby, "You'd have thought I was cute, I know that much." It was true.

Having predicted that Lisa would come around on petplay, Abby gave her a knowing smile. That was ironic, given that Lisa was keeping her alter-ego, Mittens, a secret from her. Until she found a way to come clean to her roommate and temporary lover, there were some things that Abby just wouldn't know.

Carol broke the tension with a clap of her hands, "Aaaaallll right! Good night, girls, I'm super proud of you, especially Jessica, who gets to sleep ungagged and unrestrained for the first time since she started her training!"

Carol and Lisa clapped, and Abby gave a little 'hooray' cheer, while Jessica rolled her eyes, but bashfully smiled with her dark eyes and thick, sculpted full lips. Lisa was relieved that the woman seemed to have finally given herself a break and cooperated to avoid punishment.

"What do you think changed, Jessica? Please, share with the group anything you think made the difference in your success today, maybe your fellow slavegirls can learn from it," Carol suggested, and Jessica's dark skin flushed red as she shied away from the suggestion that she'd been brought to heel.

"I mean...it was easy. I didn't really have a choice. They sent me to the Dungeon, and Dominic...well, he locked my ass down, what can I say? I couldn't move a muscle, I couldn't say shit, he just kept moving me from pose to pose, shoving different things in my mouth, and paddling the shit out of my ass. I don't like doing chores and being bossed around and all that, I'm not, like, a 'work' type of person, you feel me? But I don't mind getting spanked by a handsome, and can we just take a second for that, because DAMN, Dom...I mean, Master Dominic is one sexy man, am I right?"

The girls nodded and Carol gave a wicked grin. She knew the effect her Master had on women. One conversation, and he'd gotten Samantha Steel signed up for slavegirl training. No wonder Jessica had responded better to him than the random guests that frequented HaremCo's Club and other services. And it sounded like being totally restrained, with no complicated tasks or glimmer of hope that she could get away with disobedience, had set Jessica up for success more than being rented out on her first day or whatever other jobs she'd been given had.

"Like, I didn't have to do anything, I couldn't do anything, so I don't feel like I accomplished anything. But Master Dominic said he was proud of me, and I did good today. He kept giving me attention, and if I didn't curse and backtalk with my mouth full, he used that vibrating egg on me. It felt like maybe there's something I CAN do well, you know? I wish my man could've seen me, spread-eagle on a wooden cross, saying 'thank you Master' with a gag in my mouth. He thinks I can't control myself, I always gotta mouth off and make a scene, but he's wrong, he just doesn't know how to treat me like Dom...I mean, like Master does," Jessica bit her lip and looked nervously around the room, hoping she was making some kind of sense.

"That's wonderful, Jessica, and that's exactly what HaremCo is for! With your training, and our gear and guidance for your husband, you'll be able to take that energy you had in the Dungeon today, and bring it back into your marriage, your home, and out into the world. Let's all remember: everyone's path as a submissive is different, and we all have strengths and weaknesses. It's okay to struggle as you search for the role that will really let you shine," Carol was gushing with enthusiasm, obviously chuffed that a slavegirl in her class was having such a breakthrough.

"That makes sense," said Abby, "I was super scared at first. I almost had a panic attack the moment they first permasealed me, when I couldn't get the plaster off my mouth, and couldn't handle my inability to speak. But Samantha stayed close to me and got me through that, and through our auction at the Club. Then, when they sent me to the Kennels, and put me in paw mittens and a muzzle, everything clicked into place. I never would have known that I love being a puppygirl, an adorable, loyal, beloved pet, if I hadn't come to this training. Now, I can't wait to tell my husband. Maybe he'll build me a doghouse!"

A knot formed in the pit of Lisa's stomach. She didn't like thinking of Abby going back to her husband. Pangs of possessive jealousy sprung up inside her when she thought of her beautiful, intimate friend being silenced, restrained, and owned by some man. But at the end of the day, Abby was married, and possibly 'straight,' or at least not usually as bisexual as most of the slavegirls at HaremCo seemed to become in their silenced sisterhood and constant state of arousal.

At least she could enjoy her time with her, now, and maybe as Mittens, she could play with the lovely brunette sub at the Kennels during the day, then snuggle and make out with her as Lisa at night in their cell, without Abby ever knowing it was Lisa in Mittens' white FreakPet gimpsuit.

"Maybe I'll end up being a catgirl, and our owners can arrange a playdate," Lisa joked as she slid into bed and began thirstily sucking at her water dispenser's nozzle.

"Very funny," giggled Abby, "but I'd like that."

Lisa wasn't joking. She would die to nuzzle and play with Abby in a sunny, grassy yard, then snuggle up by their owner's feet in a cozy living room at the end of the day. It sounded like heaven.

Carol said goodnight, then turned out the light as Lisa finished gulping down tonight's ration of the green, goopy nutrient-rich smoothie that came from the nozzle beside her water dispenser.

"Why don't you come cuddle, Lisa?" Abby's voice whispered in the darkness.

As Lisa crawled out of bed, instinctually slinking on all fours over to Abby's cot, she found herself humming softly. She was subconsciously trying to make a soft, constant vocalization that would have made her voicebox purr, if she'd been in Mittens' suit.

Abby's back was against the wall, and Lisa snuggled her spine into her roommate's soft belly and breasts. Lisa and Mittens were both little spoons.

"Good night," whispered Abby.

"Meow," said Lisa, her cheeks flushing hot as she accidentally responded as she would've as Mittens.

Abby giggled. She just thought Lisa was being cute.

Abby brushed Lisa's blue hair, black in the moonlit dark of the room, back from her face, then kissed her softly on the cheek, then her temple, and lastly brushed her lips lightly across her ear before laying her head back on the pillow.

The two fell asleep with their bodies pressed against each other, and Lisa dreamed that she was a tiger, curled up in a little man-made cave nook with her mate in a zoo exhibit. She saw her trainer, holding a long animal control pole with a wire noose dangling from its end.

It seemed like a kitty couldn't even catch a wink of sleep in this place without a bossy handler coming between her and her mate.

---

Samantha let the hot water of Dominic's shower wash the sweat and residual lube from her latex bodysuits from her skin, not focusing on anything in particular in the low, dimmed light of his marble-floored bathroom. Just outside the shower, the RealDoll Mk.3 dollsuit lay crumpled in a heap on the floor, along with the Mimi persona that had inhabited her very consciousness moments ago.

Dominic had warned her she'd feel strange as she adjusted to being back to normal, and he'd left her alone, locked from the outside in his bathroom, with a soothing white noise machine and the pitter patter of the shower's warm jets of water to soothe her ears and the bathroom light dimmed to a low orange glow to avoid overstimulating her after hours spent looking through her doll mask's tiny viewholes. He'd unlocked her high heels, which she'd kicked off immediately before he could continue, eager to finally be free of the painful, challenging footwear, and then he'd unlocked her dollsuit's zipper and unzipped her suit from her ass crack to the back of her head.

"I'm going to leave you in here to slip out of that suit and come back to yourself slowly. Just gag yourself with the nite-ball and permaseal I'm leaving on the counter and knock on the door when you're ready, sweetheart," he'd said, then closed the heavy custom bathroom door and bolted it from outside.

Samantha had taken her time peeling off Mimi's face, sliding the rubber newmouth that had lined her oral cavity for half a full day out of her mouth with strings of drool trailing behind it. Her mouth felt weird, and somehow lighter, almost weightless. It didn't feel like hers, because it wasn't Mimi's. Samantha had been afraid to look in the mirror at first, but after a few deep breaths and sliding off the rest of the rubber suit, she stood before the mirror above the sink, her features dim but unmistakably human and unmistakably Samantha, even in the low light.

She looked a mess. She was covered in sweat, her lips were trembling and her eyes were tired and frightened. She couldn't believe what she'd just gone through.

She'd had Mimi's persona to keep her calm and focused on performing while she'd been in the suit, but now, fully back to herself, Samantha was hit with the full weight of what she'd just been through.

She also had to deal with how much she'd enjoyed it, and how enthusiastically she'd served her Mistress, Barbie, and then her Master, Dominic, in the rubber maid-doll identity she'd so fully allowed to take the wheel of her consciousness.

She decided to focus on small things first. Simple tasks.

Her hair was a matted, sweaty mess. She could fix that.

So now she washed herself and shampooed her hair, coming to terms with the fact that, as scary as that all seemed in hindsight, Barbie and Dominic had been there to keep the entire experience under control, and they'd helped her remain collected and even happy to serve. It seemed like she should be terrified at what had happened to her, but it wasn't really all that bad while it had been happening. So, what was the harm?

She could accept that. HaremCo was good at what they did, and she'd enjoyed being totally absorbed in her rubber gimp identity, no matter what her self-judgement or society's norms told her.

She'd impressed Barbie, and Nicole. She'd had fun with Mittens, and seen Lisa, a prideful feminist far less likely than herself to embrace dehumanization and objectification, appear to have just as much fun as she'd been having, if not more, scampering around and meowing as she got herself and Mimi into trouble.

It was a lot to deal with, but only if she thought about it.

She decided to feel, instead of thinking.

She felt the steam rising up from below her as she turned off the water, felt the soft fibers of the towel as she dried herself.

She felt the bristles of the disposable toothbrush Dominic had laid out for her, tasted the minty toothpaste and relished the cool sensation on her tongue, which had been numbed by the latex that encased it and coated with the taste of rubber for perhaps twelve hours. The bristles of the hairbrush scratched her scalp, which had been compressed along with her now-clean auburn hair under Mimi's hood all day.

She thought about how good it had felt to play with Dominic just now. He'd done things with her he'd said he would only do with the woman he decided to marry. Did that mean he decided to marry her, or that those things didn't fully count since they happened to Mimi? He hadn't really been touching Samantha, technically, after all. She supposed that must be it. She'd have to continue to win him over if she wanted to really feel him inside her, to make love for real as man and woman instead of owner and toy.

She'd scored important points with him, though, and it had felt amazing to be Dominic's plaything. It felt like all the sexual frustration and pent-up arousal that had been building since she began her training had finally been released in one fiery, passionate session, and she knew she would sleep like a baby tonight.

She wondered if Dominic would make her sleep in the kennel at the foot of his bed again.

Probably.

But that was okay.

For now, she needed to take her nightly nite-ball dose so she could sleep, use the restroom, and drink her water and smoothie rations. She picked the squishy white rubber ball up from the counter and popped it in her mouth, then deftly stripped the backing from the adhesive side of the white permaseal plaster beside it and pressed it onto her mouth, sealing the medicinal-tasting rubber ball inside.

She knocked softly on the inside of the bathroom door, and heard the heavy deadbolt turning from outside. She got happy tingles in her chest, realizing Dominic had been waiting right outside the door this whole time. Her Master had been waiting for her, as she came back to the woman he'd first propositioned, in his Dungeon section of HaremCo shops on her tour. He probably couldn't wait to see her again, her real face, the same brave woman who'd courageously had dinner with a CEO and a Presidential candidate as his gagged date, the face in the 'about the author' pictures he'd seen in her books.

She hadn't thought about it for a while, but Dominic had once been something of a fan of hers. He'd told her he'd read her books, and seen her TV appearances. This might be a dream come true, a real fantasy come to life for him, to have trained and dollified the firebrand provocateur, Samantha Steele.

As the door opened and Dominic stood before her, looking her naked body up and down with a grin that almost looked the tiniest bit bashful, Samantha's self-doubt and panic, at having her identity stripped away from her, melted away. She knew she was wanted, she was desired, that Dominic wanted her for his own, and she was his. It was a kind of security she'd never had in previous relationships, where no one really knew where they stood, or if they were really able to be themselves, or just what their partner wanted them to be.

He held her in his arms for a moment, and she buried her face in his chest and breathed deep, grateful sighs of contentment. Then, wordlessly, he led her to the bed.

He climbed into bed on one side, and motioned for her to climb in on the other. He'd arranged two bottles with rubber nozzles at the tips, one filled with water and the other with the green nutrient smoothie they fed all the slavegirls at HaremCo.

She couldn't believe it: Dominic was letting her sleep in the bed with him! She would have squealed and thanked him profusely for the gesture, had the permaseal on her mouth and the nite-ball that slowly delivered its sedatives and restarted her metabolism kept her quiet. Instead, she cast him an adoring, blushing stare, and he smiled back at her.

"I'll take that permaseal off in about three minutes, and you can get started on your water and your rations for the day. You can finish what's left over tomorrow before I drive you back to the compound. Oh, I almost forgot," Dominic opened the drawer to the nightstand on his side of the bed, and retrieved a small box, handing it to Samantha, who sat up in bed and accepted it with the glee of a small child at Christmas. Her Master had bought her something, and she could just die of happiness, no matter what it was.

It turned out to be a box of twelve small mixed chocolates. Samantha squealed happily into her gag and held the little treasure tightly to her chest, Next, Dominic handed her a small crinkly packet of buttery tea biscuits, and she held one gift in each hand, looking teary-eyed at Dominic as he blushed and scratched the back of his head. She was so grateful for the treats, and it was adorable to see her Master actually looking slightly embarrassed as he spoiled his sub.

"There's nothing wrong with the nutrient smoothies we give our girls, and usually, it's important that everyone eats and drinks the same, no one gets special treatment. But you," he reached out a hand and caressed Samantha's cheek, "are special. I wanted you to have some real food. I didn't know what you liked, so it's an assortment. Once I know more about you, I can bring you thi-oh!" he was cut short as Samantha flung her arms around him, goodies still in her hands, and squeezed him tight as a tiny, happy squeal lingered, humming between her rubber-plastered lips.

"Easy there. I'm glad you like it, Samantha. We're going to keep having special sessions as your training goes on. Not always at my house, of course: you'll be meeting with executives, media producers, and even doing brief publicity appearances before too long. I'll make sure you're taken care of, and we'll touch base frequently along the way. I know you've been living 24/7 as a slavegirl for three days now, because I wanted you to fully understand your new role as quickly as possible. But," he paused for effect and broke from her embrace, looking her squarely in her eyes, "you're no ordinary slavegirl, Samantha, you're a crucial part of my plans for this company, and for our country. Don't forget that, and don't forget that there's a light at the end of your tunnel: you'll be trained up, and ready to resume your public life as a conservative activist, promoting Male Guardianship for women and HaremCo's services to achieve that lifestyle."

She nodded and said, "Mm-hmm!" She knew she wasn't crazy to put her faith in Dominic. She would be let go, eventually, and become a free woman again. Unless of course, she became his submissive for real...would he want to marry her, by then? Would she still want to marry him, and be his slave, with freedom on the table?

If she still felt the way she did now by that time, she definitely would. She'd never wanted any man, or any lifestyle, more in her entire life.

"All right, let's get that gag off so you can eat before those sedatives knock you out for the night," Dominic said as he withdrew a stick of HaremCo solvent from his nightstand drawer and began running it over Samantha's gag, allowing the solvent to soak through the micro-perforations in the permaseal and dissolve the adhesive that bonded it to her mouth and cheeks.

He peeled it off and held his hand out, and she gently let the nite-ball roll down her tongue and into his hand, wiping the drool with the back of her hand then smiling and whispering, "Thank you, Master."

She tried to leave it at that, but she found her mouth moving of its own accord, as if she'd forgotten the days-long lesson in silence HaremCo had been giving her since her training began. She had so much to say, so much gratitude, so much love, so much overwhelming emotion that she'd had to rely on tone and body language to convey for so long.

It just kept spilling out of her, and Dominic chuckled and blushed in what could only be second-hand embarrassment for Samantha as she gushed: "Thank you for taking off my gag, for bringing me these treats, for having Barbie dress me up in that unbelievably sexy suit, thank you for playing with me just now, that was the best, most exciting and satisfying time I've ever had with a man, Master, thank you, you've taught me so much that I didn't know about myself, you've changed my life and I just can't-mph!"

Dominic had clamped a hand over Samantha's mouth, but he wasn't angry, he was beaming at her, his smiling eyes looking into her soft green irises as she blushed, grateful, yet again, for her Master silencing her to spare her the burden of feelings that were too much to properly express.

"Samantha, I've been doing this a long time. I've met a few slavegirls I thought might be the one, but that was the thing: I wasn't sure. What I feel about you is different. The relationship I have with the slavegirls back at the compound, even Nicole and Carol, who I adore and cherish, is ultimately professional. But when I think about you, I think of you as mine. My feelings for you are personal. You've only agreed to be my submissive through the course of your training, but when you're done, and you're the public female face of the Male Guardianship movement, I want you to become mine, full-time, permanently. I've thought about it, and I've made my decision."

She stared silently into his dark eyes, tears threatening to well up in her own. She was overcome. She didn't know what to say. She knew she shouldn't agree to anything until she'd been freed, and had her wits about her again. But Dominic's profession of affection was like a balm for all the sores and bruises her life had left on her heart, and she could've died happy in that moment.

"Don't say anything, not now. You can make your decision when the time comes," Dominic removed his hand from her mouth, and she smiled at him, then, without a word, dropped the box of chocolates and her biscuits and grabbed her Master's face, pulling him to her and pressing her mouth into his.

Maybe she'd learned something about nonverbal communication after all. She felt like she'd expressed herself well enough.

When their kiss broke, Samantha laid her head on Dominic's chest. Her rations, and even her chocolates, could wait. This moment was too perfect to spoil.

She listened to her Master's breath, pictured a grand, public wedding between the two of them, and thanked her lucky stars that Dominic had come into her life.

Without his guidance, and HaremCo's help, she may never have learned how good it felt to occupy a woman's role in the way that only true submission to male guardianship could allow.

---

End of book 1

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