Betrayal

Trisha knew that somebody had come into the room. She head footsteps, hard heels against a tiled floor and the person standing to one side of her, just out of her line of sight.

A single word shattered whatever half formed thought Trisha had in her mind.

"Stand," came the stern command from the figure standing beside the bed.

Trisha found herself clambering up and off the padded bed she had been lying on. With only mild surprise, Trisha now realised that she was completely naked. Her pubic hair had been shaved as well. It was strange to see her groin so bare and exposed. Without further thought, Trisha placed her feet together on the cold, hard tiles and brought herself rigidly to attention, arms by her sides, chest thrust outwards.

Her instructor appeared before her now. With the same mild level of surprise that the realisation of her nakedness had brought, Trisha took in the sight before her. The woman was clad in a pair of gleaming black thigh high boots, a black rubber thong that clung to her nether lips, a latex bra with cut-outs for her heavy, enhanced, breasts and long rubber gloves. A black hood that seemed to be part of the heavy collar that encircled the woman's neck completed her attire. The open faced hood framed the pretty features of a woman in her late twenties. Clearly visible on the woman's forehead, tattooed in large black letters, was a single word: SLAVE.

It took a few moments for the memory to become clear in Trisha's mind. The familiar features were disguised somewhat by the torpor of her thinking and the unusual clothes the woman wore. Trishaa managed to hold on to the thought that appeared and it slowly moved it's way out of her lips.

"J..essss...eee..." Trisha rasped, while the impassive, glazed eyes of her sister stared calmly at her. The woman with SLAVE tattooed on her forehead did not react. Trisha tried to concentrate and hold on to that memory. Her sister. Jessie. That was important. She needed to remember that.

"You cannot think," the woman who had her sister's face told her.

As soon as the woman spoke the need to grasp on to that memory disappeared. She couldn't think? That was true. She was having immense difficulty in thinking. She used to be much better at thinking than this, but right now, she could not think.

"I cannot think," Trisha replied in agreement.

The woman continued on. "You want to obey."

Well, if she couldn't think then it would be better if somebody else told her what to do. It was like following orders. Trisha was used to giving orders, so it was only right that it was her turn to follow them. Her turn to obey them.

"I want to obey," Trisha informed her sister.

There was a pause as the rubber clad woman absorbed Trisha's response. Was she pleased? It was so hard to tell. Her face was so expressionless. It was like talking to a robot.

In a calm, clear voice the woman now announced, "You are a slave." The familiar glazed eyes stared directly into Trisha's own.

A slave? Where had she heard that before? A new memory suddenly appeared in Trishaa's mind. A strong, bright memory that she could hold on to. There were flashing lights and a spiral that seemed to twirl on and on forever. She recalled a voice, a calm soothing voice telling her things. Lots of things. Important things that she needed to remember. Telling her that she was a slave! It was good to be able to remember that. Trisha was pleased. She was a slave. Just like the woman told her.

"I am a slave," Trisha proudly affirmed.

Idly, as she waited for the woman to tell her what to think next, Trisha wondered if she had SLAVE written on her forehead as well It looked so sexy on the hooded woman. Slave was such a sexy word.