The Voice

That was easy. Leah knew her name. If that was what the voice wanted she could answer that. "Leah," she replied.

"That's not all there is to your name," the voice said. The voice sounded so disappointed. Like a teacher admonishing a student. Like a mother despairing over a child. Leah couldn't bear to disappoint the voice. "Do you know what's missing?" the voice asked.

Leah wanted to answer. She knew there'd been more to her name. Hadn't she told the voice that sometime? Leah thought she had. Maybe. But the memory fled away.

"Do you want me to tell you your name?" the voice asked.

"Yes," Leah replied. She needed to know her name. She needed anything the voice wanted to tell her.

"Your name is Slave Leah," the voice declared.

Leah's eyes went wide. For a moment, just a moment, she doubted what the voice said. But she trusted the voice. The voice would keep her safe. So her name was Slave Leah.

"You're a slave," the voice said.

"I'm a slave," Slave Leah replied. She wasn't Leah anymore. She had a proper name. She was Slave Leah. She was a slave.

Just like the brunette in the images.

"Who do you obey?" the voice asked.

Slave Leah thought she knew the answer to that as well but something stopped her answering. She could feel the voice's hands on her head. But they weren't stroking her hair. She wasn't sure what they were doing. Then something dropped away from her eyes.

And Slave Leah could see.

Standing in front of her was a beautiful woman. A beautiful, raven-haired, woman.

Slave Leah knew the answer now.

"You," she said, tears of joy running down her face.

"I promised I'd get you out of here," the raven-haired woman said, reaching for the first of the straps that held Leah down. "You trust me don't you?"

"Yes," Slave Leah replied. The voice, the woman, hadn't lied to her. Slave Leah knew she never would.

Her bonds were soon released, the things on her nipples and clit removed, the intruder in her pussy withdrawn, Slave Leah rising shakily form the table to which she'd been strapped. She could see the IV that had fed the drugs into her system, see the small bandage on her arm.

"Kneel," the raven-haired woman said.

Slave Leah obeyed. She was so close to cumming.

"Present."

Slave Leah's hands flew to the back of her neck, her knees spreading as her chest thrust forward. Her body was singing. She was so close. She could almost taste it. But she knew that she couldn't show it.

"Abase."

Slave Leah did as she was told. God, she wanted to cum, but she couldn't not yet. In the future she would, at every order. But not now.

"Who owns you?" the woman asked.

"You do," the newly-minted slave replied. She was safe. She was obeying. She'd get to cum soon.

"Whose slave are you?"

Slave Leah didn't hesitate. Why would she? She'd learnt. From the words. From the images. From her trust in the voice. There was only one answer. "Yours." The first time was going to be so special.

"Who is your Mistress?"

"You are." She trusted her Mistress.

Slave Leah didn't have to look up to know her owner was smiling.

"Cum for your Mistress slave."

Slave Leah didn't need words to obey that command. She came. And came. And came. She didn't make a sound. She knew there was a slight quiver of her hips. Maybe someday she'd learn to control that.

But it didn't matter. Her Mistress would tell her what to do. She was cumming for her Mistress.

Slave Leah knew it was only the first time of many.

(The End)