Winter Warming Booth

When Ona was finally steered back to the intersection she had given the computer, she was massively relieved to see that her clothes were indeed there, folded in a neat pile by the street sign post. She was directed right up to the post then slowed to a stop.

As soon as she stopped moving, her collar made a small beep. All at once, the collar, shorts, and running bra split apart and fell right off her body, leaving her standing there naked. The mortified girl scooped up her own clothing and made a dash for her apartment, hoping nobody she knew was looking.

Once inside, Ona collapsed onto her bed, thrilled that the torturous run was finally over. After the crazy ordeal, it was hard for her to even decide what she wanted to do first: get in a hot shower, fall asleep right away, or grab a vibrator and finally get the orgasm that had been building all day.

Then one other priority entered her mind: revenge. This whole thing wasn't planned and perpetrated by some computer, it was done by a person, and that person was going to pay. She decided that before anything else, she'd better go pick up those damn running clothes and collar - they would be critical evidence when she went to the police.

When she got dressed and went back to the intersection, her heart fell as she saw that the running clothes and collar were gone. Shit, had some do-gooder anti-litter freak walked by and picked them up? She looked up and down the street, but there was nobody in sight. Kicking herself for not grabbing those items as soon as they fell, Ona then figured that she'd better go check on the "warming booth" in the park where this all started.

Ona wasn't up for running to the park, but it was a close enough walk. When she got there, she found exactly what she had been dreading: nothing. The booth was gone without a trace, and nobody in the park remembered seeing it be hauled away.

Ona would call the Parks Department later, but she already felt sure that she wouldn't find anything. With no physical evidence whatsoever, there was no point in even going to the police. There was no way they would believe her story, and there certainly wouldn't be any way for them to find whoever did this. Shit, shit, shit! Some bastard had put her through hell all day long, and he was going to get away scott-free.

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Ona was right that her tormentor was going to get away with everything he had done to her. He would also get away with doing the same thing to the other dozen or so girls he had trapped in his booth in various parks around the city.

Ona was wrong, however, about not being left with any physical evidence. During one of its many painful shocks, her collar had inserted a tiny grain-of-rice sized device into the back of her neck. But since she'd never find it, it would never do her any good, and it might well end up doing the tagged girl plenty of harm.