Ch.5
First Day of Training pt.1: Signed Over
As the morning light streamed through the windows of the bedroom, Samantha woke to the sound of birds chirping and the gentle hum of the city below. She was still in her metal kennel at the foot of the bed, her body aching and sore. She sat up slowly, her joints stiff and sore from being cramped up all night.
She looked up to see Dominic sitting on the edge of the bed, a smug grin on his face. He looked down at her with amusement, "Good morning, pet. I hope you slept well. We've got a long day ahead of us, and you need your rest. You'll need to learn your place in this world quickly, now that you're receiving my training, and the best way for you to learn is by experience. Today we'll go to HaremCo's training center and start the orientation program."
Samantha's heart pounded in her chest as she watched Dominic open the kennel and beckon her forward. She knew what he wanted from her. She crawled out of the kennel and onto the bed, then crawled toward him, her head down, her body on all fours. Dominic smiled and patted his lap. Samantha obeyed and crawled into his lap, submitting to his dominance.
"Now," he said, running his hands over her body, "we need to get you ready for the day. Let's get you washed up and head to your first class. We can't have the teacher's pet showing up late, after all." Samantha shivered with excitement as he led her into the bathroom and turned on the shower. The hot water poured over her skin as he gently washed her, taking extra care to clean her between her legs and her ass. Once they were done, Dominic dried her off and helped her dress in a simple white dress and sandals. She looked at herself in the mirror, and she barely recognized the girl looking back at her. She had changed so much in just one day, but she was ready to continue her journey into complete and utter subjugation.
Samantha's stomach twisted into knots as Dominic's car sped towards the training facility. She didn't know what to expect, but she was determined to prove herself worthy of being trained. The thought of being under the control of HaremCo's strict training program sent a shiver down her spine. She had always been a strong, independent woman, but she knew that in order to be the perfect slave, she needed to submit to her new master, Dominic.
They arrived at the HaremCo compound in Hollywood but drove to the back of the building instead of going in the front, where Samantha had entered previously. She had hoped to see Michelle and maybe Carol when she entered, but she supposed her training would be held in a different area of the vast compound. Dominic parked his car and escorted her to a set of large double doors.
When they entered the training facility, Samantha's jaw dropped. The room was huge, with a high ceiling and no windows. There were no chairs, just pads on the floor for people to kneel on, and in one corner there was a set of stocks with a wooden sign that said "Discipline Area" above it.
Standing around the room were several men, each of whom looked as though they owned the place. Each was standing with their woman, and Samantha noticed looks of fear, resentment, and disgust on the faces of a few of the women. The rest looked eager to begin, like she did.
There were two HaremCo security guards standing at attention at the door, dressed in black suits and carrying stun guns. They also wore belts equipped with an assortment of HaremCo bondage gear: cuffs, clamps, ropes, chains, and other restraints, in addition to the stun guns. She recognized Carol, the slavegirl who had assisted Samantha during her initial tour of the facility. She wore her same sterile white dress and fleshtone skinsuit, and stood chatting with a thin black woman wearing a darker skinsuit but the same white dress. The black slavegirl's name tag read "Nicole." When she and Dominic drew near the two, they hushed quickly and knelt before Dominic with their heads bowed.
"At ease, ladies," he said, and the girls both smiled and rose to their feet. He introduced Samantha to Nicole, then said to Samantha, "Nicole and Carol will be helping us today, Sam." Samantha nodded, and smiled at the girls, feeling shy. Both slavegirls grinned and welcomed her, and Nicole gave Samantha's hand a friendly squeeze.
As the other couples filed in, Samantha couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness, but it was nothing compared to the excitement she felt at being here. She was finally taking the steps she needed to become a true submissive. She watched as each of the other men handed their female wards to a HaremCo security guard. The guard then handed the men what appeared to be mouthplugs, and each of them took the mouthplugs and placed them between their ward's lips. They each then said something to the effect of, "I am now transferring guardianship over this woman to HaremCo until the end of her orientation. Until she has passed all of the required examinations, she is under the authority of HaremCo, its officers, trainers, and staff members, and is subject to the rules and policies of HaremCo. I order this woman to follow every command and direction of Dominic, as he represents HaremCo, and any other HaremCo staff."
One woman stepped forward, sobbing gently, and begged, "wait, honey, we don't have to do this, we can talk. I'll be good, I promise, just..."
"I said silence, slut," her man said, then grabbed her jaw and shoved the mouthplug in. Then one of the guards clapped his hand over her mouth, sealing the plug in her mouth with an opaque white permaseal. The girl tried to say more, but she only wordlessly groaned a pathetic whimper through her stuffed mouth and glued lips. Frantically she reached for her mouth, prying uselessly at the super-glued rubber plastered to her face, and she began to hyperventilate, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
The security guards chuckled and rolled their eyes at each other. The nearest security guard grabbed her arms roughly, reaching for one of the zipties on his utility belt, but Dominic stopped him, smiling gently at the woman. "She's just having difficulty adjusting, give her a moment. Sir, what's your wife's name?"
"Abby," scoffed her guardian, "sorry about her behavior, she's like this at home too. She always has something to say about everything, you know? She freaks out any time I try to gag her, and I can't get her to shut up otherwise. Are you happy, Abby? You're embarrassing yourself on your first day."
"Abby," said Dominic softly, "just try to breathe for me. You're scared of being unable to advocate for yourself, isn't that right?" She nodded frantically. "It's ok, honey. Society has put women like you in a vulnerable position, and demanded you fight for yourselves. I'm your guardian now, and you'll learn to trust me to fight for you, to advocate for you. You'll be cared for, and protected, just so long as you trust me, listen to me, and follow my guidance. I'll earn your trust and your respect, and so will your husband, if you can just take a leap of faith and surrender. You've noticed that permaseal is impossible to remove by now, haven't you?" she nodded again. "Good. I think you've realized that this is your new reality, Abby. What's causing you distress is that you feel the need to fight against it. Let go. Relax. You'll feel much better once you accept that right now, it isn't time for you to speak. It isn't an option. Your only option is to focus on me, your master, and I'll let you know what's expected of you. What your life will be while under my care. After all, I am the only way to get that plug out of your mouth, and that rubber unglued from your face. Can you do that, Abby? Can you follow my lead, and make this as easy as possible? I promise I'll take good care of you if you place your trust in me. Can you relax so we don't have to restrain you further?"
The girl sniffled and blinked back her tears. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself, and she slowly calmed down, her body relaxing.
"You get used to it after a while," chirped Samantha, hoping to comfort the shaking woman, "HaremCo makes these gags to be comfortable, that's why the permaseal is so stretchy, the glue doesn't hurt when you remove it with solvent. And after a while, the mouthplug feels like it isn't even there. It perfectly conforms to your whole mouth, and you can bite down as hard as you want. Isn't it kind of nice?"
Carol laughed, "She's got the right attitude. The permaseal is so soft, and it smells nice too. Plus, you're not in pain, and the glue is waterproof and odorless, so it's just nice, really, especially when you have to be gagged for hours and hours. And it can't leave any bruises, because the solvent just dissolves it when you need it to. Ms. Steele here has worn much crueler gags, and she's come back for more! Remember that metal tongue depressor gag, Ms. Steele? It made my garble gag look like nothing by comparison. Aren't you relieved we're being so gentle to start off?"
Samantha smiled. "I am, actually," she said softly. "I'm excited to be training with you Carol. I had so much fun doing my tour with you..."
"Hmmph," grunted Abby, clearly uncomfortable and trying to work her mouth into a comfortable position around her gag.
"All right," said Dominic, "say goodbye to Abby, sir, and let's get the rest of these women sealed up. Those of you who are already gagged, please kneel on the pads in front of the stage, silently and without delay. We're almost ready to begin."
Samantha watched as the gagged women shuffled into place. She felt sorry for some of them, she had felt that same fear and confusion not too long ago. But now she was looking forward to it.
Dominic took a mouthplug from one of the guards. "Open up, Samantha," he said, bringing the mass of molded silicone towards her face.
"Of course, Master," Samantha breathed, and she parted her lips and allowed him to slide the mouthplug into her mouth.
"Mmmmmmm!" Samantha grunted as Dominic gently inserted the mouthplug into Samantha's mouth and positioned it between her lips and teeth, her tongue sliding into its familiar pocket within the silicone, her cheeks and lips filled to the brim with the plastic mouthguards. She felt a thrill run through her as he applied the shiny white permaseal plaster, the chemical taste and the smell of the glue filling her senses as he applied the rubber swath over her lips and cheeks, sealing her mouth shut and holding the mouthplug in place. Her tongue pressed against the plastic of the mouthplug, but it was no use. The seal was airtight and secure. She knew she was completely at Dominic's mercy.
"Sign here, ma'am," a security guard pressed a clipboard with a legal document waiving consent and legal rights to autonomy into her hands, "you have no legal guardian, so you'll have to sign for yourself."
Samantha's eyes widened at the legal document. It was long and complex, but she quickly signed her name at the bottom. It felt strange to sign away her rights like that, but she was eager to see what her training would involve. She knew that whatever happened next was going to be intense.
After she signed, the guard quickly grabbed the clipboard away from her and pointed at the ground, "now kneel on the pads with the others, slave."
She hesitated, then knelt on the pad. The security guard walked away and Samantha felt a shiver run through her as she looked up at him and the other guards, all of whom had the authority to punish or discipline her. It was a strange and terrifying feeling, and she felt her heart racing.
As she kneeled with the other women, she studied their faces, noticing their nervous expressions, the fear in their eyes. She felt a pang of empathy for them, knowing how difficult this experience could be.
As the last of the women's guardians left the room, shaking Dominic's hand at the door, Samantha turned to her left, where Abby knelt, shoulders hunched and sniffling. Abby looked to be in her late twenties, younger than her middle-aged husband, and she had freckled, pale skin that complemented her dark auburn curls. Tears welled up in her green eyes, and she met Samantha's eyes when she noticed her looking.
"Hmmm...mmm-mmmph?" she gestured nervously with her hands, pointing to her gag, shaking her head. She hated her gag, she seemed to say. Samantha shrugged helplessly, then reached out and put her hand on Abby's, trying to comfort her.
"Mm-hmm!" chirped Samantha, tracing her fingers over her own gagged lips, then miming a woman tousling her hair and primping herself up, as if to say "it looks pretty on you, your lips look nice."
Abby blushed and winced, whimpering into her gag, then pointed to Samantha, then her gag, giving a thumb's up with a question in her eyes. "You like this thing? Really?"
"Hmph," replied Samantha, then nodding her head. Abby stared at her as though she were insane, but then looked down and away.
The last few men trickled out of the room, leaving Samantha, the ten other women, Dominic, Carol and Nicole.
"All right, ladies," Dominic stood in front of all the kneeling women, addressing the group, "my name is Dominic, and you will refer to me as Master for the duration of your training. I'd like to explain something very clearly right off the bat: HaremCo has been tasked with fully training you as entry-level submissives, qualified by the same examinations we require for our own harem girls, like Carol and Nicole, my lovely assistants. Your cooperation will be necessary to complete these examinations. Some of you will resist at first, or later on when our demands of you become too much for you. If you disobey or refuse our instructions, we reserve the right to discipline you through punishment, restraint, and confinement to your quarters. Our security team, these fine gentlemen in black uniforms with all the gear, will enforce this discipline. Some of you will excel more than others, and those women will be graduated and released on schedule. For those of you who have difficulty falling in line, we will not give up on you: you will only prolong your training. The best advice I can give all of you is to take the easy route: obedience. You will enjoy this experience much more, and you will rejoin your husbands as happy, well-adjusted submissives much more quickly, if you accept the reality of your role. I hope that by the end you find satisfaction, joy, and fulfillment in the natural role that all of you were born for."
The room fell silent after his speech. Samantha could feel the tension in the air. Some of the women were still trembling, others were staring straight ahead with determination, but everyone seemed to understand the gravity of what they were about to undergo. Some of the other girls, Samantha thought, were clearly nervous and afraid. Abby was still shaking and fidgeting, looking as if she were about to cry again, and Samantha felt a surge of sympathy and protectiveness toward the younger woman.
"As some of you may know, we have something of a celebrity in our training group. Samantha, will you stand for the class, please?"
"Mmmm," she said through her gag. She stood slowly, her heart pounding. Her body was a mass of nerves as she looked around the room.
Dominic addressed the class, gesturing toward her, "You may have heard of her. She has a rather infamous public persona, in addition to being the author of two bestselling novels. Samantha Steele is known for her outspoken conservative views, and for being the catalyst for the silent majority movement. Many of you are likely here today because of the work she's done in normalizing and promoting HaremCo's traditionalist ideology. She's putting her money where her mouth is, or her mouth where her money is, so to speak, and I hope you all appreciate the work she's done in making our services available to you and your husbands."
Samantha thought a few women were glaring at her. Did they blame her for this? Did they feel that it was unfair that they had been brought here? She couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt.
"Samantha should be a role model for the rest of you. I know this is uncomfortable at first, but if a successful, smart, sharp-witted woman, and a public political figure like Samantha Steele sees the value in submission, I hope all of you can feel good about following suit. This is not about denigration: it's a celebration of femininity, and a commitment on the part of American men to preserve the way of life that women in this country are entitled to. That said, I want you all to understand that your status outside of HaremCo is now irrelevant. I will not do any special favors for any of you, nor for Ms. Steele. You are all my wards, and I will care for all of you equally. Sit, Samantha."
Samantha sank to her knees, grateful to be off her feet. She was starting to feel overwhelmed. She was glad that her gag prevented her from talking, she knew she'd say something that would make her seem less of a role model, and more like a desperate slut who couldn't think straight. She was terrified that the others would see through her and realize that her tough, brazen displays of submission had been superficial: she was just as scared as any of them. What had she really gotten herself into here?
"Nicole, Carol, you've been through orientation training once upon a time, and you've grown so much since then. Nicole here," he gestured to the petite light-skinned black woman to his left, her skinsuit a tan caramel color to match her complexion, and she broke into a wicked grin, "is HaremCo's most requested rubberdoll. Our dollhouse rents her as a plaything to CEO's, celebrities, even a few major rappers. She's scheduled to appear in a music video for DJ Pimpin's new single, 'toy bitch'. We're all very proud of her. Carol is newer to the game, and she's courting several potential husbands who she'll serve as a domestic slave. Any advice for the new crop of women, girls?"
Carol smiled sweetly at the kneeling, naked gagged women, "It's all for the best. It may seem overwhelming and scary now, but in the end it will all be worth it."
Nicole, the more seasoned slave, scoffed, "What Carol means to say is that you better obey and submit. If you can do that, then it will all be over before you know it. Y'all can't just suffer your bondage, you gotta work it, flaunt it, and make it sexy if you want to keep a man interested. That's why I'm played with by superstars, that's why I'm in music videos: I'm the plaything of every man's dreams, and I work hard to be the greatest, sexiest doll in our Dollhouse. Your sexual value is something you have to work for, ladies. Come to me if you want to train as a doll, or as a freakpet petgirl, but know I won't go easy on you."
"Nicole's a bitch," said Carol with a smile, "and that's not a joke, it's her title: her collar says 'bitch' on it. She'll work you to the bone to make you into a perfect plaything, and I don't mean a housewife like me. You should try the Dollhouse out, girls, I got to dress up as Alice in Wonderland when Samantha was doing her tour. It's scary being locked in a latex suit, but I felt so cute!"
Just then a muffled shriek cut the air in the room, and a middle-aged woman wearing a severe black turtleneck and a modest, long denim skirt stood up, her fingers desperately clawing at the edges of the permaseal on her mouth. The other women were staring at her, some shocked, others scared. "MMMMMM! MMMMMMM!" the woman grunted, shaking her head from side to side, trying desperately to peel the plaster away.
"It's no use, miss," said Dominic, "please calm down and kneel on your pad. I'd like to be as gentle with you as possible, wouldn't you? If you can't calm down, I'll have these guards hogtie you. Can you calm down for me?"
The woman's fingers still desperately pulled at her mouth, but after a moment, the woman sank to her knees on the pad. Her breathing was coming in short, panicked bursts. She was still clearly distressed, her eyes wide and her fingers clenching and unclenching in the air. Samantha watched, her heart aching for the woman, and then she saw Carol kneel down in front of her.
"Hi, I'm Carol! I know you're new, but I'll help you adjust. You'll love Master Dominic, trust me. He's the best. Here, hold my hand if it helps. Feel how soft that latex is? See how it matches my skin? You'll love being dressed like this, you'll see. Don't you want to get dressed up? That's the next step!"
"Mmmmmm. HMM-HMMM!" said the woman, but Carol continued, patting her hand. "It'll all be okay, trust me. You'll feel better in a minute. There's a tingly warming lotion in the suit, it's sooo relaxing! I think she's all right, Master, please continue!" she nodded at Dominic.
"Thank you, Carol, I appreciate your help," he replied, then addressed the group, "now, I need all of you to stand and strip out of those clothes you wore to get here, then come up here, one by one, and take your skinsuits from Nicole and Carol. They're all custom made to your measurements and skin tone, and each has a name tag so we can address you properly, since you can't introduce yourselves while gagged. First, all of you stand and strip. The guards will collect your clothes, which we'll return once you graduate." he waved a security guard over, who carried a black duffle bag, into which they were all expected to drop their clothing and underwear.
Samantha stood first. She was eager to get dressed and follow her new master's instructions. She knew that the quicker she obeyed, the better. As the others followed, she looked at them, sizing them up, noticing how nervous some of them were, how reluctant others were to follow instructions. She knew that it wouldn't be easy, but she also knew that it was what was best for them. As they stripped and dropped their clothes in the duffel bag, she noticed that some of them had been dressed very modestly, while others were in skimpy, sexy lingerie. She herself had worn her favorite lacy pink bra and panties. The guards had been polite to them all, even when one girl, Abby, the redhead that Samantha had befriended earlier, took forever to remove her underwear, shaking and blushing furiously at her nudity, before a guard rolled his eyes and snatched her panties away, shoving them into the bag. Abby covered her crotch and ner nipples with her hands, blushing furiously, as did many of the other women.
"You girls are pathetic," said Nicole, "you have nothing to hide from your Master, or your fellow slavegirls. You should be proud to show off your assets, eager to show off your sex. You're not going to attract a master being prudish. You, with the blue dyed hair, you a feminist or something? You a libtard? Why don't you dance for your master, you've got a nice body, Blue," Nicole approached a young-looking, tattooed girl with dyed black hair that had blue streaks. She certainly didn't look conservative, but maybe she was kinky and into bondage? Samantha wondered why she would be here if she were a feminist.
"Hmph, Mmmm!" Blue whimpered, still trying to hide her nipples and crotch, shaking her head.
"You've got a good eye, Nicole," said Dominic, "this is Lisa, an undergraduate journalism student who runs a feminist blog and minors in women's studies. She wrote an article criticizing the Silent Majority movement and Male Guardianship that attracted our attention. We offered to pay her remaining college tuition if she would give HaremCo a try. She'll be free to write whatever she feels by the end of her training, and we'll pay her tuition even if she still criticizes us. We're that confident that she'll change her mind once she experiences what submission can offer a woman. Still, I can't believe you accepted the offer, Lisa. Is college really that unaffordable these days?"
Lisa scowled and huffed through her gag, nodding her head, "mm-hmm..."
"Now, nobody should treat Lisa any differently just because she's a feminist or has a negative opinion of HaremCo. She's being very brave by giving us a try, and she deserves a chance to become the best woman she can be. Understand, Nicole? No excessive cruelty just because you hate feminists."
"Yes, sir," Nicole rolled her eyes, "sorry, Master."
Samantha glanced at Lisa, her flushed face indignant and haughty. Lisa met her eyes and gave her a glare, but Samantha just waved politely and smiled. As a feminist, Lisa probably hated Samantha's work long before the silent majority movement. Samantha wondered why the young woman had agreed to something so opposed to her values.
"Now Carol and Nicole will bring each of you your skinsuit, a white dress, and a matching leash and collar. Please cooperate fully as you are dressed. You'll notice a tingle and a warm sensation from our medicated lotion, which lines the suits. This is for your comfort and pleasure. It may take a moment to adjust to the orifice sheaths, but in time you will find the sensation quite pleasurable. Carol, Nicole, without delay please." The girls set about dressing the women in their skin tight suits. Many women resisted, or struggled, but after some effort and the occasional assistance from the guards, all the women were wearing the skinsuits, and their white dresses were pulled down to their knees and fastened around their necks and midriff.
Samantha watched as Carol and Nicole approached each of the other women. The women were all different, with different backgrounds, different body types. Their suits all matched their complexion perfectly, leaving them looking doll-like, with perfect shiny rubber skin that seemed natural and organic. The women moaned and grunted as their orifice sheaths were stuffed inside them with long, smooth plastic rods, pushed by Carol or Nicole into their anuses and pussies until they were withdrawn, leaving little puckered rubber orifices like condom openings between the women's legs. Nicole approached Abby and slid her into her pale skinsuit, the lotion allowing the rubber to slide effortlessly in place. Abby began to squeal and pinch her legs closed as Nicole moved to slide her sheaths in place, and Samantha reached out and held Abby's hand as they were slid into place.
Abby winced and groaned deeply when the rod was slid into her asshole, her eyes welling up with tears and locked onto Samantha's begging for support.
Samantha moaned gently and rubbed her thighs together, placing her palm on her naked crotch, miming "it feels good, I like it down there" to the distraught woman. Nicole zipped the skinsuit up to Abby's neck, then fastened a white leather collar with a leash and a padlock at the clasp over the neck of the suit. When she locked the collar on and removed the key, she removed any way to unzip and remove the skinsuit from Abby's body. She dressed Abby in a sheer white dress like her own, which had a small nametag on its breast that read "ABBY - trainee. Ward of Master Dominic."
Abby sniffled as she looked down at her perfectly-matched rubbery skin, admiring the white french-tip painted nails on the fingers and toes, and gently fingering her little brown molded rubber nipples. Her hand trailed down to her labia and she started in surprise when she felt the smooth rubber molded labia and clit nub between her legs. Her orifice sheaths were still dangling out like unrolled condoms from her crotch, but Nicole quickly inserted them with a smooth plastic rod, making Abby squeal and groan with indignity, especially when the sheath was pushed into her anus.
"Your turn, Sammie. I heard from Carol you loved your little experience at the Harem Salon. Bet you're dying to get in a skin suit again," said Nicole, opening Samantha's skinsuit and beckoning her to insert her legs. "Let me get those sheaths into you, girl, you'll be squirming with pleasure when we're done!"
"MMM-hmmph," groaned Samantha as she watched Nicole and Carol take turns sliding their smooth plastic insertion rods into her ass and pussy. She was filled to the brim, the rods stuffing the tight, thin latex sheaths inside her, and she could feel them stretching her, filling her, molding her, as they slid deep into her. The lotion began to tingle and warm her body, and she flushed with heat as she remembered her intense sensory deprivation experience and orgasm at the salon the other day. She hoped the sensation wouldn't distract or overwhelm her, or make her cum on accident in front of everyone. To her left, Abby was gently running her gloved fingertips over the latex covering her body, trying to get used to the new sensation. She still seemed terrified and unsure of everything, but at least the sensation of her skinsuit and orifices had calmed her. To Samantha's other side, she noticed a girl with tattoos and black hair streaked with blue. The girl was staring at Samantha with an angry expression on her face. She was the feminist who Dominic had mentioned earlier, Samantha remembered. Lisa. What was Lisa's problem? Samantha had a pretty good guess.
"Good girl. You feel right at home in latex suits, don't you Sammie?" teased Nicole as she fastened a collar tightly around Samantha's neck, locking it over her suit and trapping her in the latex second skin, "maybe we'll make a doll out of you yet, hm?"
"Mmmph...mm-hmm?" moaned Samantha tentatively.
"Lisa though..." Nicole sneered at the blue-haired, indignant woman, "if I ever get my hands on you, you'll be a freakpet, for sure. A fat little piggy or a dumb dog or something. Feminist trash, am I right, Sammie?" Nicole spanked Samantha and she squealed, then watched as Nicole walked back to Dominic as Lisa glared at Samantha. Samantha blushed and shrugged apologetically, then Abby grabbed her hand, squeezing tightly. Samantha looked down at her and saw that Abby looked like she was about to pass out, she looked so terrified.
Samantha gently rubbed her thumb across the woman's latex-clad hand, their latex skins gliding numbly over each other, and sparks of heat erupted in her skin where they touched. She'd forgotten how nice the sensation of the medicated lotion had been. Samantha began subtly rubbing her legs together, and felt the latex sheaths inside her sliding smoothly ever so slightly.
"Now that you're all dressed and collared," Dominic boomed, regaining the attention of the room, "it's time for your first day of work. You'll be earning your keep here at HaremCo, and there's no shortage of jobs for useful women such as yourselves. In addition to mandatory trainings and exams, every day you will provide a shift of labor at one of our shops, businesses, or general help such as front desk duties. For your first day, we'll be doing something special: a mock auction. You will be bid on and a lucky winner will be your master for the day, until we reconvene at 6 pm. You will not really be permanently sold to this person, but this is a good chance to see how you would fare if you were to be auctioned off today, which may be the goal for some of you. For those of you who already have a master, such as your husband, it will serve as practice in the role you will perform for him. I recommend you all try to be as appealing as possible to your masters, as they may treat you according to your behavior, and they will be ranking your performance. You will need to maintain at least a four out of five rating with all your masters in order to graduate this program. Understood?"
"Mm-hmmph!" Samantha squeaked. Abby squeezed Samantha's hand harder, her face contorted in horror. The girl was a mess.
"Good, now let's go. You will all follow myself, Carol, and Nicole to the upper floor. We're going to the Harem Club, a high end sports bar, burlesque, and auction house where our high rollers come for such entertainment. Security, please bring up the rear, and don't hesitate to restrain and drag along any stragglers. Now slavegirls, when you receive a command while gagged, I expect a response. You can answer direct questions with "mm-hmm" for yes and "hmm-mm" for no. Am I understood, girls?"
The women murmured a collective, "mmm-hmm."
"Very good, girls. Follow me. On your feet, ladies!" he snapped, and the women stood, Abby slowly, hesitantly. She looked at Samantha and whimpered, squeezing her hand even harder.
"Mmm-hmph!" said Samantha, and she patted Abby on the shoulder. "Hmph, mm-hmm!" she reassured the woman. Abby nodded and followed Samantha, and they began to move as a group.
Samantha followed the crowd, watching the other girls, some nervous, some trembling. The air felt charged with energy as they made their way down the hall and up the stairs. They passed a large window and Samantha looked outside to the bright sun of the Los Angeles morning. It felt strange to know that people outside were just living their normal lives, while she and the other women were about to undergo a radical change in the course of their own lives.
They reached a set of large, double doors and they swung open to reveal a large room filled with people, all of whom turned to stare at the new arrivals. Samantha gulped as she saw the men leering at them, and the women looking on with a mix of curiosity and sympathy. Waitresses and bartenders in pink latex skinsuits and white aprons worked busily, some of them sporting permaseals or ballgags, but some left able to speak so they could serve customers.
The men in the room wore dark suits and expensive watches. They sat in heavy metal chairs, and Samantha noticed heavy metal rings fixed to many of the chairs, tables, and support poles throughout the club. They must have been tie-down points. Samantha gulped and chewed nervously at her mouthplug. This was all too real, too much to take in at once. She was terrified and aroused at the same time.
The club had a large stage and a catwalk, and there were two rows of metal folding chairs in front of it, as well as several circular tables around the stage with room for a few men each to sit. In the center of the stage was a large wooden pole, and a chain hanging from the ceiling, ending at a set of metal cuffs.
Dominic approached the microphone in front of the stage and cleared his throat, addressing the crowd, "Gentlemen, I'd like to thank you for coming to our little auction preview event today. I'd like to invite all of you to bid on our trainee slaves for a chance to enjoy them for the day. Your bids are donations to the HaremCo foundation, which supports the expansion of HaremCo facilities and programs across the country, and funds the research that keeps us innovating and creating new ways to enhance the lives of American women. The girls will all be ranked by their owners at the end of the day, so I advise them to be on their best behavior, and I suggest to you gentlemen, if your slave is not up to par, that you be generous when it comes time to rank her. It may take them a while to get used to our program, and to their place in society."
"MMMM!" grunted Samantha in agreement, but the crowd was ignoring the girls in the back, instead listening intently as Dominic spoke. Abby squeezed Samantha's hand, and she glanced over at the redhead. Abby was shaking, her face pale, her eyes wide with fear. She looked at Samantha pleadingly.
"Mmmm-hmmph," Samantha grunted softly. Abby moaned back, her eyes darting around the room, taking in all of the sights. The women in the club, all scantily dressed and bound in some way or another, were clearly the property of men. It was a shocking sight for the women, especially those who weren't used to such displays of dominance.
"Each of the women will be given a brief introduction and description. Once she's up on stage, you'll be able to make your bids. Remember, these are new trainees, so no intense physical punishment or explicit sex acts are allowed, and while you will be allowed to have the woman you select dressed and bound however you wish, we ask that you include at least some restraint and a gag. Many of these women are new to submissiveness, and we're counting on you to help break them in, and get them used to being silenced and restrained. If you need to alter their bondage or attire and do not have the equipment to do so, please place an order on your HaremCo app and a representative will be with you shortly to apply the requested items. Remember, for an additional $500, private entertainment rooms are available for up to three slavegirls and up to ten guests. Your ownership of the woman will expire seven hours from now, at 6 pm, around the time you'll have finished dinner. They're yours until then. Let's give it up for our first slavegirl, Trish!" Dominic pointed to the severe-looking mature woman who had worn a turtleneck and modest skirt earlier. She looked mortified, and began to breathe heavily as Nicole led her onto the catwalk by her leash. She stumbled and whirled her eyes around the room as she walked the catwalk, obviously overwhelmed and uncomfortable with this new environment.
The crowd clapped and whistled, laughing when she staggered, then quieted down when Nicole raised Trish's wrists and locked them in the shackles hanging from the ceiling.
"Trish here is forty four years old, one hundred and twenty five pounds, and has been married to the owner of a construction company for twenty years. She volunteers for the red cross in her free time, and loves homemaking and arts and crafts. She's a good woman, goes to church, and loves her husband, but her husband felt that HaremCo training would help her bring that sexy spark back into their bedroom and stop her complaining about chores. She's just what HaremCo is looking for: an ordinary, God-fearing woman who wants to serve her man better. Do I hear $100 for Trish?"
The bidding commenced and quickly grew heated, the price climbing to over $200. Finally, it settled at $250, the money to be donated to HaremCo's foundation in the winning bidder's name.
"Sold, to the gentleman in the tan suit. You'll enjoy Stephen's company, Trish, he's a kind master. How lucky for you! Now who wants to watch Trish get dressed and bound for her master?"
The men in the club roared with approval. Trish was still shackled on the stage, and the men began to gather around the catwalk to watch as Nicole removed a few latex garments from a nearby rack.
"Stephen, what sort of bondage and outfit would you like Trish to wear today?" asked Nicole, smacking Trish on the ass. She squealed in terror and humiliation as Stephen approached the stage.
"Hmm...let's put her in a corset. Something tight, to cinch her waist skinny. You've got nice hips, Trish, I think you'll look great with a tiny waist. And let's get some latex stockings on those legs. How about red latex stockings, gloves, bra and panties? I like that classic slavegirl look. Then let's go with handcuffs and a big red ballgag. You'll look lovely, Trish, and we'll have a great time, I promise."
"All right, you heard the man!" shouted Dominic as the crowd began to cheer, "Nicole, let's get Trish outfitted for her new master and move on to the next girl."
Nicole unshackled Trish's hands and the woman fell to her knees, her face red with embarrassment. She began to sob, her shoulders shaking. Nicole and Carol approached her with a long red latex corset, a set of red latex stockings, a bra and panties in red latex, a set of matching red latex gloves, a set of handcuffs and a large, red ballgag with a silver lock.
"Don't give us any hassle, bitch," snapped Nicole, "and don't you dare fucking speak as we change your gag." Nicole rubbed a stick of solvent on Trish's permaseal and it began to peel away, the glue loosening. Nicole ripped the plaster off, and held out her hand for the mouthplug, "spit it out, slave."
Trish stared at her with a mixture of fear and hatred, and she spit her mouthplug at Nicole.
"Watch it!" snarled Nicole, and she grabbed the woman's jaw and squeezed her cheeks, opening the woman's mouth, and stuffing in the large ballgag. "Stephen, would you mind?" Nicole asked as she handed the lock to him, and Stephen stepped up and secured the ballgag tightly.
"HMMMMMMMM! HUMPH HUUUUUhhhhGGGHhhh HUUUUURMPH!" sobbed Trish, her voice cracking, as the ball slid in place behind her teeth, filling her mouth and squishing slightly under the pressure of her jaw as she bit down. She instinctually tried to spit it out, pushing it out of her mouth with her tongue, but it snapped back behind her teeth as she whimpered in dismay. Stephen snapped the lock on her gag with a click, sealing the ball in her mouth, as Carol fastened a red latex bra on the woman, then slid red latex stockings over her long, pale, muscular legs. Nicole tugged on her arms and fastened red latex gloves on them, covering them in red latex from her fingers to above her elbow, leaving her shoulders and most of her upper arm exposed. Next, a pair of red latex panties was slid up her legs until it settled over her puckered rubber orifice sheaths.
"And would you like her cuffed in front, or in back, sir?" chirped Nicole to the man who had been the highest bidder.
"Behind her back would look great, I think," said Stephen.
"All right," said Nicole, and she locked the cuffs over the gloves, behind her back.
"Now remember to show your appreciation for your new master, he's spent a lot of money on you and you'll want a good rating. Be a good sport, Trish, and give Stephen some good company!" Dominic gently pushed Trish along down the stairs of the catwalk, where Stephen was waiting to accept her leash. He tugged her along gently to his booth, where a few of his colleagues began to tease him about his purchase, as Trish hung her head and tried not to sob audibly through her ballgag.
Samantha watched as Nicole brought out the next slave, the woman with black hair and blue highlights who had glared at her earlier. Her face was a mask of anger as Nicole locked her wrists above her head.
"Next we have Lisa! Lisa here is an undergraduate at a state university, where she is the author of an anonymous, well regarded blog about feminist issues. Her article criticizing the Silent Majority Movement attracted the attention of a donor who wishes to remain anonymous. This donor generously paid her entire remaining college tuition, and an extra ten thousand, if she would give HaremCo a chance at reprogramming her into a traditional woman, in exchange for the right to publish an article on her experience. Whoever buys her might even end up in her article! Now I know most of you find feminist college girls obnoxious, but remember: she's here keeping an open mind, and giving traditional femininity a chance. Let's give her a fair shot, and see which one of you lucky guys gets to teach her a lesson in real womanhood. Plus, haven't you always wanted to gag a feminist? Be honest! Do I hear $200?"
Lisa glowered and huffed through her nose at the men in the crowd as the bidding started, her eyes darting around as she watched the men in the crowd. She had no idea what to expect. She'd agreed to this crazy idea because she'd been drowning in college tuition debt, but she hadn't expected it to be so terrifying and degrading.
"My daughter and her friends are just like her, Dominic! I'll bid $500, shutting her up will be priceless!"
"Ooh, you don't like feminists either, hm? Well Lisa here is a perfect opportunity for a father like you to show her the way a woman ought to behave, am I right? Any higher bids?" asked Dominic as the crowd murmured and chuckled.
"Six hundred!" a younger man shouted, his voice loud and confident. He wore a pair of expensive sunglasses and had slicked back dark hair and an athletic build, like an actor or model. "She's just like those clueless social justice warriors I deal with at school. Hey Lisa, when your gender studies degree doesn't get you a job, I'll buy you and provide for you."
The crowd roared with laughter as Lisa struggled against her bonds, grunting angrily at her humiliation and helplessness.
"Six hundred once! Going twice!"
"Eight hundred," called an older, distinguished-looking gentleman from the back of the room. He was wearing a crisp, grey suit and had a head of grey hair.
"Nine hundred," the young man called back, his tone still light and playful.
"Eleven," countered the man in grey.
"I'll chip in a thousand, Brad," said one of the young man's friends who wore a backwards cap and an unbuttoned shirt, "this is just what bro's night at the club needs."
"All right, I'll do two thousand," said Brad, sneering as he met Lisa's gaze. The girl was seething with anger and embarrassment, her cheeks red, her nostrils flaring. "I'm gonna make you regret all that feminist bullshit, bitch, just watch," said Brad, his eyes shining with a hint of cruelty. Lisa shrank away from him, her eyes filled with rage.
The room went quiet for a moment. It was clear that the other bidders were intimidated by Brad's aggressive demeanor.
Dominic looked around the room, his eyebrows raised, "Well? Do I hear any higher bids?"
No one responded.
"Two thousand once! Twice! Sold! Congratulations, sir!" The pair high-fived and the other young men at their table started chuckling amongst themselves.
"And how shall we dress her for you, master?" Carol asked Brad.
"She's gonna look sexy as fuck when we're done with her, isn't she?" Brad grinned at Lisa, who glowered at him with contempt.
"Strip her down to her skinsuit, give her one of those inflatable gags that really fills her cheeks, and let's hogtie her with zipties on our table. I wanna see her squirm on display, and I bet she's got a lot of room in that big mouth of hers."
"A hogtie, inflatable gag, and full nudity, coming right up, sir!" said Nicole, removing the permaseal gag from Lisa's mouth with a stick of solvent and giving it to a security guard. "You gonna behave while we do this? You don't want me to call the security guys to hold you down while I stuff your fat cheeks, right?"
Lisa snorted through her nose, but shook her head. "All right then, be good and don't struggle," Nicole smiled sweetly as she reached behind a counter and removed a black rubber gag with a hose of surgical tubing that led to an inflation bulb. When the bulb was pumped up, the massive rubber gag would inflate, expanding to fill Lisa's mouth wider and wider with every pump, filling her cheeks and stretching her lips so wide she couldn't spit it out. Samantha had seen these gags before, they always made a woman look ridiculous with their stuffed cheeks and over-stretched lips. Samantha was horrified that she was going to see it used now in person. These young men really had it in for Lisa, it seemed.
Nicole held up the gag to Lisa's mouth, the thick rubber oval ready to be stuffed between her lips and teeth, the hose hanging from the bottom and dangling over Nicole's hand, down to a bulb at the end. Nicole held the bulb and hose with her free hand, the other holding up the thick oval of black rubber, which looked very heavy. "Open your mouth wide, bitch, and stick out your tongue," ordered Nicole.
"Or I'll call the security guards over and they'll hold you down for me, won't be fun," she added. Lisa looked like she wanted to bite someone, her nostrils flaring, her eyes shooting daggers at everyone.
Lisa hesitated, but she opened her lips and slowly slid her tongue out, and she allowed Nicole to push the heavy rubber plug between her teeth, the black plastic tubing dangling out past her lips. "Now don't you dare spit that out. Once it's pumped up, you won't be able to anyway," Nicole sneered as she slowly pumped once, twice, three times, squeezing the bulb in her hand.
Lisa grunted, "MMMMM!" her lips already stretching, the black oval swelling inside her mouth, pressing down on her tongue and forcing it down into her throat, making it hard to breathe. Nicole kept squeezing and the black gag grew and grew, forcing her mouth to stretch wider, her lips stretching over the gag. The rubber expanded to fill her cheeks and her cheeks ballooned out and began to push out past the corners of her lips. Her face began to look comical and ridiculous with her lips straining around the gag and her cheeks blown up and bulging. The crowd of men laughed as Nicole pumped, Lisa's cheeks swelling and her eyes widening as the pressure built in her mouth. The gag swelled and swelled until her mouth was filled to the brim with inflated black rubber. "MMMMPH!" she moaned, "HMMMMPH!"
"Your master Brad has good taste, Lisa," chuckled Nicole, "now try to spit that gag out. No straps, no tape, and I bet you're still stuck with that mouth full, aren't you? Go on, try!"
"HUMMMMPH! HUMMMMHPH!" Lisa grunted and struggled as she tried desperately to dislodge the huge, heavy gag. She could hardly move it, it was too big, too wide to fit past her lips, it filled her cheeks, and it wouldn't budge no matter how hard she struggled to push it out with her tongue. The black rubber was pressed against her lips, her teeth, the roof of her mouth and under her tongue, filling every last millimeter of space, and there was no way to dislodge it. Lisa whimpered and began to drool.
"All right, guards," Nicole motioned for the guards to step forward, "Strip off her dress and hogtie her with your zipties, then place her on these young gentlemen's table. Let her squirm around for all of us to see!" the crowd laughed and applauded as Lisa was stripped and tied. Then, struggling, her limbs were hogtied together at her ankles and wrists. She struggled and whimpered, but the men dragged her down the steps of the stage and lay her squirming body on the young man's table, her body wriggling, the zipties digging deep into the latex over her ankles and wrists, and her back arched uncomfortably as she craned her head up to look her tormentors in the eye.
Brad reached down and deflated Lisa's gag, which flopped out of her mouth trailing saliva behind it and landed wetly on the table. "Hey, Lisa," said Brad, grinning, "got anything nice to say to me? You want to smile pretty and be kind to me and my friends? Or do you have some sort of lecture on the patriarchy to give us?"
Lisa panted, her mouth free for a moment. She glared up at him and snorted, "fuck you," she said simply.
"Okay then, back in that goes," chuckled Brad as he stuffed the deflated black oval back into Lisa's mouth, pumping it up once again.
"MMPH! MMMPH! MMPH! MPPPHHHHHHH! MMPPHHHHHH!" Lisa grunted as her mouth and cheeks were stuffed full, the rubber filling every inch of space and ballooning out her cheeks once again. She looked even more comical than before, with her mouth stretched around the oval gag.
"What do you say we keep trying, boys? Interrupting her is so much fun, you all have to try it. This has to be the most epic mansplaining of all time, am I right?"
The entire audience had been watching Lisa's struggle, but Dominic cleared his throat and regained attention, "Well it isn't every day you see that, folks. This club really is a special place. But on with the auction! Next up to the stage is Jessica. She's 25, she works in marketing at a startup, and she's here to find out what her best friend, Carol here, loves about being a HaremCo slavegirl. She'll be graduating our orientation training with the rest of the girls here, and we hope to make a convert out of her."
Carol stepped forward, leading the young woman with black, curly hair, dark brown skin, and a voluptuous figure, and fastened her wrists to the chain dangling from the ceiling. The white permaseal plaster and dress contrasted beautifully with her dark complexion, and Samantha thought her skinsuit looked particularly remarkable in its caramel shade, perfectly matching Jessica's complexion. Samantha hadn't seen many women of color in HaremCo getup before, except for Nicole, and was impressed how inclusive their product line was. Jessica looked stunning, her full, pouty lips casting a sumptuous outline in the white rubber glued to her face. Nicole was another monster entirely, and Samantha was awed and frightened by how natural she seemed to be in her skinsuit, and in her role as Dominic's assistant. She seemed downright zealous.
"You're going to have a great time, Jess. Trust me," Carol cooed as she traced a finger down her friend's jawline, "There's a whole new world of things to experience, and it's not just about being bound and gagged, there's a spiritual side to it. Just let yourself relax, and let it all go. It will all make sense in the end." Jessica looked uncertain, her face a mixture of fear, curiosity, and apprehension.
"Do I hear $200? She's an attractive young woman, isn't she?"
"Three hundred!" shouted a young man near the stage, who wore an open jacket over a t-shirt with the logo of some internet company on it. He wore glasses and had long, unkempt hair.
"Four," said an older man who looked like a lawyer or banker. He was dressed in a dark suit and had salt and pepper grey hair.
"Five hundred," the young man shot back, looking directly at his competitor. His eyes were intense, and the other man looked nervous.
"Seven fifty," said the businessman, his tone level and steady.
The young man's nostrils flared. He looked angry.
"A thousand," said a third man, sitting in the corner. He wore a dark shirt and his face was obscured, but he looked older, perhaps in his forties. Jessica was watching the men, her eyes wide. Samantha wondered how it felt, to see men fighting for her. Samantha hadn't had a boyfriend in a long time, and the closest thing she'd had to a date since her divorce was the night she spent with Dominic, and he hadn't even had sex with her. She blushed at the memory, feeling a strange pang of desire in the pit of her belly.
"One thousand dollars from Mister West," called Dominic. "Do I hear any higher bids?" He was answered only by silence.
"All right, sold to Mister West for a thousand dollars. Mister West, what's your pleasure? How are we wrapping up this little package for you?"
"I'm going to keep her simple. Just a white rope harness around her body and her breasts, and I'd like to keep her mouth open for now, so a ring gag will do nicely," Mister West's voice was low, smooth. He sounded confident and sure of himself.
"All right, a ring gag and a rope harness, coming right up! Carol, Nicole, let's get this lovely young lady ready for her date," ordered Dominic.
Carol and Nicole set about binding the young woman's breasts in a rope harness, the thin cords of rope winding around her body, creating a diamond pattern, with her nipples and breasts framed by the ropes. Nicole used solvent to remove her permaseal, and Carol gently pushed the ring gag, a metal o-ring that fastened with a leather strap,between her teeth and fastened the buckle around her head. The audience applauded as Mister West led her down the stairs of the catwalk and off to his booth, where she knelt obediently beside the booth and he patted her on the head. Samantha wondered if Mister West was a kind master, or a cruel one. She hoped that he would be good to Jessica.
The auction went on, with Samantha paying rapt attention. The girls all had their own personalities and histories, and their masters always had their own ideas about how to dress and use them. Samantha watched as the next girl was brought to the stage, her name was Amber, a petite brunette with short hair, a dancer's figure, and an expressive, lively face.
Samantha felt a nudge from Abby beside her, the young redhead who was squeezing her hand, trembling at the sight of the slavegirls on the stage. She looked up at Samantha, her face pale, and her eyes wide. Her mouth was moving beneath the plaster, her breath was coming faster. Abby seemed terrified, and she was starting to lose it.
"Amber here is an actress and a dancer. Her fiancee is in the army, and he wants her to stay in tip-top shape while he's gone, so he signed her up for HaremCo to keep her disciplined. When he comes home from active duty, he's going to find a perfectly obedient woman waiting for him, just as all our troops deserve. Do I hear $100 for Amber?"
The bidding was quick, the crowd eager for such an athletic young woman, and the young man who won bid $500. He requested that Amber wear a tight red dress and high heels, with her hands tied in front and her lips glued with red lipstuck.
"A very classy choice, sir!" said Dominic, as his assistants went to work dressing the woman, "remember folks, discipline doesn't always have to be hardcore. I'm sure this gentleman and Amber are going to have a lovely evening together. Be sure to treat him well, Amber, you want to show your appreciation for being treated so nicely."
"Mmmm-hmph," grunted Amber, as Nicole applied the glue to her lips, sealing her mouth shut, and Carol tied her arms in front of her with nylon zipties, then pulled the tight, short red dress on her. Carol helped her slip into the tall high heels, and Amber tottered down to her new master, her legs wobbly, the dress tight against her hips, forcing her to take mincing, dainty steps.
The bidding went on for what felt like an eternity, as each girl was bound, gagged, and humiliated on the catwalk. The crowd of men were having a blast, enjoying their power, the thrill of owning a woman for the afternoon. Each woman reacted differently, some humiliated, others terrified. Some women, such as Amber, looked excited, their cheeks flushed, their eyes wide with desire, and it seemed to Samantha that they enjoyed being displayed and humiliated, even though the rest of the women clearly hated it.
Finally, there were only two girls left to bid on: Abby, the redhead next to Samantha, and Samantha herself. Samantha looked over at the girl and squeezed her hand reassuringly, and Abby nodded back to her, her face still a pale white.
"Next up to the stage we have someone very exciting, Ms. Samantha Steele! You patriots out there know her conservative talk show appearances as well as her bestselling books, but you may not know she's partnered with HaremCo and the Blume campaign to sign male guardianship into law! She personally started the silent majority movement that is now popularizing publicly silenced women as a protest against feminism. It's my personal honor to be her trainer, and I'm envious of whichever lucky man wins her company this evening. Samantha, come up here darling."
Abby clutched at Samantha's hand, desperate for the woman who'd been comforting her not to leave her side, and Samantha had an idea. She grabbed Abby's hands and led her up to the stage with her, hoping Dominic would take the hint and auction them together. She gave Dominic her cutest puppy dog eyes, looking from Abby and back to him, hoping she could silently communicate her request.
"Aw, isn't that adorable? It looks like Samantha would like us to sell her with Abby. Abby's quite a young lady herself, an intern on the Hill, she came all the way from the other side of the country just to join our orientation program! Do I hear a bid on both these girls?"
"I'll bid $1,000!" called a man in the back, and the crowd turned to look. Samantha recognized him from the talk show circuit, the young conservative pundit and activist who had been instrumental in starting the Silent Majority movement. He had a head of blond hair, styled in the classic side part that was becoming popular again. Samantha hadn't met him personally before, but he was attractive and charming.
"All right, $1,000 for both lovely ladies. Do I hear $1,100?" asked Dominic.
"Eleven hundred," called a man at a table, a businessman of some sort who had bid on other women, but had yet to buy a slave.
"$1,200!" the activist called back, glaring at the other bidder.
"Twelve hundred from the gentleman at the bar. Any other bids? Do I hear $1,300?" asked Dominic, scanning the room. "Twelve hundred, going once, twice, three times. Sold, to Mister Anderson at the bar." The crowd applauded, and the activist pumped his fist, victorious. Samantha and Abby were now the property of a young, handsome, conservative influencer: Clay Anderson. Samantha wondered if he had a bigger fanbase than herself. She'd been dwindling in popularity, but all the gagged photos and the news of her partnership were probably growing her following radically. Did he want to use her to gain more popularity, capitalizing on her new public image as the face of the Silent Majority? Or did he just jump at the chance to dominate a well-known colleague?
Was this an opportunity, or a liability, she wondered?