The Lost Consciousness Part 2


She looked at herself in the mirror before stepping out of the slave quarters. Quarters was a grand name for a single room but there you go, that's what the room was called. On one end of the room was a wall of cages. They were called slave kennels. They weren't big cages, two people could fit in one, but only if they were prepared to be very intimate. They were solid cages though. If you were put in one you were staying there until you were released. Essentially metal boxes they had bars on one side only and those bars acted as the door. At the top of each of these bar doors was a leather flap that could act as curtain or blind. However as it was situated on the outside if closed while the door was locked it stayed that way condemning the occupant to darkness.

There was a table, quite large, long and heavy duty. Two benches ran either side, it could seat ten comfortably. So at least there was somewhere to sit at while you ate your gruel. She remembered watching a comedian on TV take the piss out of a dietary replacement called Huel. This seemed to be what slaves were fed here. They called it swill. That was all you needed to know about it really. It was a huge deal, apparently, to be offered a treat of a scrap from the owners table. It hadn't happened to her yet.

There were wardrobes full of slave clothes and uniforms. All of it latex; It seemed inconceivable that a slave could be dressed in anything else. It wasn’t so much of a fetish as simply the only fabric slaves were allowed to wear. There were racks of pony tack. There was a toilet and a walk in shower with three shower heads.

There was a room slave. It was a rich family; so the slaves had a slave. A tiny creature, Emmy was not too bright, but what she lacked in intelligence she made up for in bubbly-ness. Sold into slavery years ago her life now was almost totally confined to this one room. Emmy was there to help another slave into, or out of their tack. To lace a corset or put your shoes on if you couldn't touch your feet. She mixed the gruel, washed the bowls, cleaned the shower, oiled the tack and polished the latex. Plus, if you weren't being used by one of the owners, or locked in a chastity belt, Emmy had a wicked tongue and was warm to cuddle at night. She was pathetically pleased to talk to the other slaves, her only human contact, and lived for the stories they told her of goings on outside her tiny world.

It had only been a few days since the new Jenny clone had woken up in the hospital, to be told she was going to spend the rest of her life as a sex slave. Oh, and she was now in the twenty-fifth century and going to live another 300 years in a cloned body! So much had happened in those days. Most of it had been great. If she had been told she would be doing what she was about to do now, three days ago (well one hundred and fifty-three thousand five hundred and ninety-one days if you were being pedantic), she would have wet herself laughing. Then later on, in a quiet private moment, probably spent a furious few minutes fapping away at the mental image.

The reflection in the mirror was reassuring, in as much as she was correctly presented and unlikely to be punished later for appearing unkempt. She was though, almost unrecognisable to herself. She had now come to terms with the bizarre reality of her station, the world and the finality of it all. Lonely nights, locked in her kennel thinking of her family were hard to endure. But there was utterly no way to reach them. What had been done to her could not be undone. She tried to take comfort in the knowledge that none of her loved ones were missing her, she, the original Jennifer Harrison was still there. The only one hurting was the Jenny clone, but the heartache and pain was real.

The first thing that had happened to her on arriving at the house was Ashley had cut her hair. Originally it had been about shoulder length, which was how long it had been the day of the crash. It had been odd to sit in a chair with no mirror, no consultation or discussion about preferred styles. She now sported a very short pixie cut which was the same as all the other slaves in the house. She actually quite liked it, though no one had asked if she did. Slaves did not hold opinions on haircuts, and owners did not really care if slaves had opinions. After her hair was cut she was stripped and showered. That had been an experience as Emmy had come in with her and washed her hair and back. Emmy also helped her dry herself and made it quite plain she would provide intimate services if requested. It had taken Ashley to point out, to a flustered Jenny, that it was Emmy’s job; she was required to offer herself.

After being dried she was dressed again. This time she was given a latex pencil skirt and was then once again constricted in a tight under bust latex corset, latex opera gloves, latex stockings and finally a pair of knee high ballet boots. The boots had been painful and almost, but not quite, impossible to walk in. After a few agonising mincing steps she had looked at the mocking Ashley who stood there in matching footwear and asked one question.

“How, Mistress?”

“I told you slave, fifteen years solid as a pony before our Master bought me. Pony boots here are basically ballet boots with a hoof at the toe and no stiletto heel. Sure the foot is not quite as steep in the pony boots and the horseshoe makes it a lot easier to balance but it was all day every day with my feet en pointe. My feet are damaged, I actually cannot wear flat shoes any more. Master could have this fixed but chooses not to. You’ll be wearing those for at least eight hours every day from now on until you start more rigorous pony training. However so you don’t end up unable to run in flats you’ll be doing leg work in trainers too. Now take my arm, Master is back from work, so we are going to meet the family.”

Jenny took the offered arm and teetered along out of the slave quarters. Jenny went to ask another question but Ashley cut her off with a hand gesture before she could utter a word. Clearly there was no talking out of the slave quarters. The ‘house’ was a sprawling modern mansion on one level. The slave quarters entered the home in the kitchen, Jenny was led along a hall from there to a luxurious living room. The ceiling was vaulted and at one end of this huge space was a giant fireplace. Obviously unlit in the middle of summer.

On two enormous over stuffed leather sofas six people sat and chatted. They seemed oblivious to the two latex clad slaves approaching however they clearly weren’t as oblivious as they were making out as Jenny was sure one of them muttered “Oh, it’s a Jenny this time,” under their breath. Finally as they reached the group Ashley made it clear they were dropping to their knees. With Ashley’s help she got down without falling over and was instantly grateful to be off her toes. Ashley spread her knees and crossed her wrists behind the small of her back. Catching this in her peripheral vision Jenny endeavoured to copy as much as the rubber skirt allowed. Once the two slaves were in position a blond woman with beautiful long hair stood and turned to face them.

“Welcome to our home slave. My name is Lisa.”

There was a brief silence before Ashley nudged Jenny who reflexively filled it with, “Thank you, Mistress.” Someone sniggered but the woman continued.

“Gareth, you have met.”

“Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress.”

Then pointing to each in turn, “This is Suki, Angela, Samantha and Edith.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

“We are all married to each other and refer to each other as husband and wife. This is very normal in this time. Us greeting you into our family in this way is not. It’s on a par with the family gathering to greet the new carpet sweeper. But it is easier for us to introduce ourselves now rather than you bump into us one at a time in the course of your duties.

“I hope you have come to terms with your station in this world. It will not be changing. We have brought you here to train you. We all understand that you are new. You will not be punished for honest errors. You will taste the whip if you are lazy, rude or inattentive. Many households introduce a new slave to the whip on arrival. We do not do that. I am sure you don’t need flogging to believe we mean what we say. You are healing at the moment so we cannot employ you fully. Luckily medicine has advanced some since your archaic twenty first century and so we will not have to wait too long for you to be fully fit. Each of us will be taking an interest in your training, so that when you are sold you will fetch both a good price and go on to a reputable home.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” said Jenny not believing she was actually thanking the people who had stolen her, enslaved her and were planning to sell her.

“Now all we have to do now is name you,” said Lisa. “Any ideas guys?” She asked her spouses.

“I don’t care so long as it’s not Pepper again,” quipped Angela.

“I like Pepper,” defended Edith.

“Yeah, but every Jenny gets called Pepper and it’s getting old,” retorted Angela.

“We didn’t with the last one,” fired back Edith.

“Which is why we have to rename this one,” interjected Gareth, “I heard a name today I’ve not for years. How about Morag?”

“What kind of name is Morag?” Asked Samantha clearly unimpressed.

“A Welsh one,” answered Gareth.

“I also don’t like Morag,” said Suki, “but I like the idea of a Welsh name. Do you know of any others Gareth?”

Gareth appeared to think for a bit. “Well Jenny is a Welsh name, as is Jennifer, but there’s Gwen, Nerys, Rhonda… Umm Gwyn, Carys and Bronwen.”

“Ooo I like Bronwen,” said Suki.

“I do too,” said Lisa, “what about the rest of you?” There was various shrugs as they all looked at each other and then nodded at Lisa.

“So then slave, your name is now Bronwen. I hope you are happy while you are with us.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

Ashley then took Jenny’s arm and with a little bit of a struggle Jenny regained her feet. Either her feet were now numb or they had settled better into the boots as the journey out of the room was a little easier. Once clear of the owners Jenny turned to Ashley and silently mouthed, ‘Can I speak?’

“Quietly, Bronwen,” whispered Ashley.

“I’m getting the hang of these boots,” Jenny whispered back, “is there any chance of a tour of the premises, Mistress? You know, so when I get told to go somewhere I don’t get lost.” Ashley gave Jenny a long look.

“Well done you! Yes, of course, Bronwen. Let’s see you have seen the living room and the kitchen, lets take a stroll to the garden and then the garage, I think you’ll enjoy that." The garden was accessed from many of the rooms as the house was laid out in a U formation, but Ashley chose to go via the kitchen once more. Once outside Ashley indicated that they could talk so long as they did so quietly.

Jenny instantly asked, "Is there another Jenny serving here, Mistress?"

"Yes dear there is. Which is why you'll now be called Bronwen."

"When will I meet her, Mistress."

"I believe Mistress Angela is using her at the moment. That game will probably continue until late. So I'm guessing tomorrow some time, or perhaps before bed tonight." Ashley thought for a bit then asked, "Why so keen to meet her Bronwen?"

"She's me, Mistress. Weren't you keen to meet yourself first chance you got?"

"You know, I can't remember the first time... I try and avoid myself these days though. Either I'm much older and I get frustrated with them, or we are too similar and hate each other."

"Oh, I'd not thought of it like that... Damn, now I'm scared she'll not like me."

"Bit of a mind fuck that one, hey."

"The biggest, Mistress."

"Not the biggest, but getting there. Let me head one off you'll have later, Bronwen. Tonight in your kennel something is going to occur to you."

"That one time Jennifer Harrison, now slave Bronwen, sleeps in a kennel?"

"You never fought. Not once. Not the slightest of struggles. Zero resistance so far." They had been slowly progressing down a path in the garden. Jenny stopped in her tracks. One hand rose up to the tight steel collar locked about her throat. In a slow drawn out breath, though humorously still quietly so as not to anger her owners, Jenny exclaimed the only word that seemed to fit the occasion.

"Fuck!"

"Let me help you some with that one... You've seen the movie Groundhog Day, that's not a question; I know you have. Waking a Jenny up has been like that. Both Smith and the nurse were on a very tight script. We have learnt through countless repetition what to say and do to shepherd you through your first day."

"I actually held my hair out of the way, while you locked a slave collar around my throat!"

"You did, and you were so turned on at that moment too. We've tried fucking you at that point, you melt down later if we do."
"Oh my God! Is this still scripted now?"

"No Bronwen. We have been off script since we left the hospital, though we have plays in hand for certain events. You are an organic creature even if, like me, you're a clone... Also the world is a chaotic place. Each moment we move away from you waking up in that room tiny variations snowball into big changes. We are at the point now where I'm going with the play that has been most helpful if you do so well as to ask to look around. That is to lift the veil from your eyes."

"To keep me docile and meek. So I'll obey, Mistress?"

"To keep you safe, sister. To spare you pain. It's a shit thing that's been done to you. Making a clone is always a shit thing to do even if the donor of the DNA is still alive. Because the donor will not want to hand over their life too. By making you long after your donor died, we have denied you even the possibility of fighting for your life back. Then we enslaved you. Cruel to do to the first iterations of you. A fait accompli now. Your face and mine are all the collars we need in this world. You could dress in citizens clothing, hide your bio's and remove the fetters and every man women and child on the planet would know you are a slave on sight."

"So what happens now, Mistress?"

"I really don't know, Bronwen. We've been off course since the courts. That cluster fuck was not scripted. I promise you we are not that sick. You should have been anaesthetised for the piercings."

"God this is so surreal, Mistress. Just look at us! We look like one of your pictures you used to render on DeviantArt."

"Yeah, I think I remember that one," grinned Ashley, "though you should have your head shaved and your arms bound behind your back."

"Am I fucked up that that sounds hot, Mistress?"

"No, love. It just means that collar around your throat is in the right place. Come, I want to show you the garage.”

They continued down the path and after going around a bend in the path approached the rear of the garage. A simple door let them into the vast space within. It was a five door double depth garage, though it only contained four vehicles. The first was a car, though it was not any brand or make Jenny recognised. It basically looked like a family MPV and Jenny paid it almost no attention. For the remaining three vehicles were pony carts. One had four wheels and looked like it took four pony’s to pull it. The second took two pony’s either side of a central spar, and the last was a single seated buggy that had two spars to go either side of the slave pony. Jenny was surprised to see that the carts, just like the car, each had a black charging cable plugged into the wall.

“They’re electric, Mistress?”

“There were already electrically assisted bicycles in the twenty-first century. The two wheelers are similar, they don’t do all the work, they just take the edge off hills. Though the four pony cart is a bit cleverer than that. The spar can be raised so the slaves are lifted clear of the ground, then it can travel under its own power. It’s quite a thing to be tacked up in full regalia and then hoisted up by your harness and hung in front of the cart as it travels down the road at thirty miles an hour.”

“Oh grief,” said Jenny as she imagined what that would be like. “When do I start training, Mistress?”

“Those boots you are wearing are your start. I’ll tack you up and get you pulling the buggy without boots day after tomorrow. I’ll only put you in pony boots when you stop noticing you’re wearing ballet boots.”

“How long will I stay here, Mistress?”

“I should have you fully trained in five months, maybe six. You’ll go to auction then.”

“What’s involved in that, Mistress?”

“Hmm, you are displayed for a week or so. That equates to being chained by your collar to a ring in the floor of a large hall where buyers can come and inspect the wares. There’s usually thirty slaves to a room. You are washed fed and kennelled at night by handlers that are as likely as not to fuck you too. If you’d still been virgin you’d have been in a chastity belt, but that ship sailed. Sales people will demonstrate you, customers will try you out. You will be posed, poked, slapped and whipped. All the while you will be begging each person who spares you a second glance to buy you. If you don’t you will be beaten. So it’s going to be Hell really. Then the auction is almost a breeze, you are brought out naked, bar your collar and posed by the handler who has a whip and a wand. You’ll be made to climax on the stage in front of roughly two hundred buyers and merchants, while they bid on you. Not as bad as ‘that’ sounds as coming on command will be part of your training.”

“Fuck, Mistress, that’s both terrifying and so fucking hot.”

“Bronwen you slut, you are going to hear this a lot through your life; you are such a fucking Jenny.” Jenny went bright crimson with shame.

“Really, Mistress? My name is a byword for slut?”

“Your name is Bronwen. You are a Jenny. Ha! And Jenny’s sometimes are sluts, yes. But you can thank all the previous Jenny’s, that were collared before you, for the reputation. But that's not what the phrase means. It's more... Hot in your collar, or happily collared. Most slaves dread being sold, yet you're getting moist thinking about it.”

“I still feel like Jennifer Harrison, Mistress.”

“Of course you do. You’ve lived your life under that name. Now you’ve been in this time less than twenty-four hours and a blonde woman you’ve never met before declares you’re Bronwen. But Bronwen is all anyone you ever meet is going to call you from now on. When asked your name it’ll be what you give. It’ll be written in your ownership papers. When on the block they’ll read out your slave number, describe you as a Jenny and give your name as Bronwen. Tell you what, you tell me when you feel like Bronwen. I’ll have a treat for you that day. In the mean time there is another room I think you need to see.”

Ashley led Jenny back into the house and along a corridor. As they passed doors she would point out what the room was in a hushed voice. At the end of the corridor they came to a closed door that had an old fashioned lock with a key in it. Ashley took the key out of the lock and opened the door. She motioned Jenny in.

What greeted Jenny inside was a sex dungeon or play room. There were flogging benches, a St Andrews cross a padded desk and a single steel framed bed. There were also a couple of cages; one tall and thin, the other a very small cube. In the walls were an amazing collection of whips and floggers, straps and canes. There were also racks of leather harnesses and rubber clothes. Ashley came in behind her and used the key to lock the door.

“Wow!” Exclaimed Jenny trying to take it all in.

“These sorts of play rooms are quite common amongst the wealthy in this time,” explained Ashley. “Apparently after the bio war there was a huge social upheaval the world over. Everyone had lost someone or sometimes everyone. Medicine was not so advanced then as now and I think it rubbed humanities nose in the fact that life was short and for living. If people were in a closet of some sort, they came out. Now this was hundreds of years ago. People are very liberal now.

“This family was started by Lisa and Suki, Lisa was Suki’s Domme. Lisa is gay but Suki is bi. Suki met and invited Gareth into the family. Gareth is also Dom. Lisa then met and invited in Samantha, Sam is also bi. Sam invited Edith and most recently Angela. Both of them are also bi. Sam, Edith and Angela like to play Dom to us slaves, but sub to either Gareth or Lisa. Polyamory is very common in this time. It is unlikely that you will find Gareth and Lisa having sex but they often share a bed or a slave. They all mix and match as the mood takes them. When you live centuries jealousy seems trivial. Plus if your spouses are all busy with others there are a crop of slaves to pick from too. In your time here they will all play with you. It is conceivable that Suki may require you to play top. I’ll ask Suki to be included if that is her desire, so I can help you. Not every house in this time is into BDSM, but the Evans’s are, and they’re pretty good at it.

“Now as I have you locked in here with me I think we should have a play, don’t you?”

“Oh yes please, Mistress.” Ashley crossed over to Jenny and started pulling down her skirt.

“We will have to play carefully Bronwen, those piercings need to heal.”

With Jenny out of her skirt Ashley went to the racks of equipment and returned with a mono glove. “Turn around slave and arms behind you.”

Jenny enthusiastically complied. Ashley slid the glove up her arms and passed the straps over her shoulders and across her chest before buckling them back to the sleeve on the glove. Next she cinched the strap at the wrists forcing Jenny’s wrists together inside the glove and trapping her hands in the small space below. Ashley then started drawing tight the lacing and Jenny’s forearms and elbows started to be compressed towards each other.

“Hmm this feels good, Mistress,” purred Jenny, “I’ve always wanted to try one of these.”

“Indeed Bronwen? I refer you to my earlier statement; You are such a Jenny.” Ashley continued lacing and soon Jenny’s elbows were nearly touching.

“Owww! That’s hurting now, Mistress.”

“Agony or hurting slave?”

“Hurting Mistress.”

“A bit tighter then. We’ll work on your flexibility. Push your shoulders back girl.”

“Yes Mistress, Ugh! shit!”

“Well, what do you know, they do touch! Well done Bronwen.” Ashley delivered a playful open palmed swat to Jenny’s backside after tying off the laces.

The slave girls arms were now pinned behind her, forearms compressed together and elbows touching.

“However I think we have heard enough of your moaning and whimpering.” Ashley crossed to a set of draws and came back with a soft leather hood.

"I can’t gag you because of your tongue stud but this ought to work," Ashley opened up the hood and lowered it over Jenny’s head. The hood enclosed Jenny’s head entirely except for a single oval opening over her eyes and nose. Ashley was careful to make sure the nose ring in her septum was not caught under the leather.

The hood was very tight and once pulled under her chin her jaw was clamped shut. To further mute her there was a soft rubber pad on the inside of the hood over the mouth. Once in place and aligned to Ashley’s satisfaction she started to lace the back of the hood up. Unbelievably the hood got tighter, crushing Jenny’s head and compressing and fixing her lips over her teeth. The lacing of the hood descended to the collar of the hood itself. Ashley tightened this too so the soft leather squeezed her throat and Jenny could hear her own pulse in her ears. Ashley tied of the laces and came back around to the front of her victim.

“Still enjoying yourself slave?” She enquired.
Jenny tried nodding and humming, “Yes Mistress,” which must have worked as Ashley smiled in response.

“Good girl. Lets turn the heat up then shall we?” As Jenny hummed out another response Ashley crossed to the wall and activated a panel. A stout chain descended from the ceiling. Hooking a finger in one of the attachment points in Jenny’s collar she led her prey over her to it.

Attaching the chain to the ring at the bottom of the leather glove that encompassed Jenny’s arms, Ashley went back to the panel and reversed the chains direction. Jenny’s arms were lifted up behind her forcing her to bend at the waist. Jenny knew what Ashley was doing to her, a classic strappado bondage just like she had written in Devon Bondage Girl. The reality was a revelation. Her shoulders were on fire. The chain stopped when Jenny’s torso was horizontal. Jenny concentrated on deep breaths, she knew this was only going to get worse. Had she really said please?

Ashley fetched a leg spreader from the equipment and knelt at Jenny’s feet to attach it. After attaching the first cuff she stood behind her and gently tapped the insides of Jenny’s legs apart until Jenny thought she was going to fall off the insane heels. As Ashley strapped the second cuff to Jenny’s now widely spread legs she looked up at the bound slave.

“Well that’s the preparation slave,” she smirked, “now the main event.”

Ashley crossed over to the equipment racks and opened the crotch of her catsuit. She then took a large double ended dildo and impaled herself to the hilt of one half. Next Ashley took a strap-on harness and stepped into it, pulling it up her legs she threaded the other half of the dildo through the cock ring at the front before strapping herself in. She then picked out a vicious looking crop from the wall and took a strange, but phallic looking, thing out of a draw.

“Now your mouth and cunt are sorta out of bounds my dear, so you can guess where I’m going to be putting this little beauty.” Ashley slapped the tip of the phallus as it stood out from her, and revelled in the gyrations that that action caused the other half to do inside her.

“However I’m sure I can make this both fun and educational for you.” Ashley stood behind Jenny and reached down between her legs.

“So how excited are you, hmm?” Jenny felt Ashley slide two fingers gently into her dripping pussy.

“Oh my, you really are having fun. I think you’ll enjoy this too.” Carefully avoiding the rings set in Jenny's lips Ashley inserted the phallic thing in, there was a finger on it, like a rabbit vibrator, that slid up to her clit. Once fully in Ashley did something to the device and it began to hum, but not vibrate. Then Jenny was aware what it was doing; it was getting bigger. Whether it was inflating or spreading out by some other means Jenny did not know. The effect was the same either way. It stopped after a short while and Ashley gave it an experimental tug. It did not move.

Ashley then took her two slick fingers and wiped them on the rosebud of her backside. She massaged it a bit from the outside before pushing hard and working first one, then both fingers in. She moved them about eliciting a deep moan from the slave. Then abruptly she withdrew.

“Splendid. Okay we're going to have a competition, Bronwen. But first I'm going to show you one of the possible prizes."

There was the classic whooshing noise to warn her but there wasn't time to react. The crop caught her a savage stinging blow across her backside. Jenny squealed through her nose. Then for what seemed like an age Ashley delivered a volley of blows that had Jenny squirming and squealing in agony, the pain was intense. These were not warm up blows but full force strokes. But bound as she was all Jenny could do was take it. Tears came and mixed with snot that dribbled out her nose as ragged sobs tore her body.

"Here is something you may not have thought of Bronwen; most of the people in the English speaking world, and quite a few in other countries, have fucked a Jenny. The world is your lover. They know what turns you on. Your phobias and dreams. Most people, even strangers, know you better than you know them.
Now while you mull that over; the rules of the game. I'm going to make you cum. You're going to resist. If you hold off long enough I'll grant you an orgasm. If you climax before I grant you release though... Let's just say the work I just did with the crop was a warm up. Shall we begin?"

The device lodged in her pussy started to pulse and vibrate. Given the day so far, along with the tight bondage she was now in, the fire within leapt into a blaze straight away.

"You see Bronwen, everyone knows what pushes your buttons." Ashley placed the tip of the dildo against Jenny's anus, she applied some pressure. Jenny pushed down in an attempt to ease the entry of the intruder.

"You like to be forced." On 'forced' Ashley thrust hard and drove the shaft deep into the helpless girl. Again Jenny squealed with the initial pain but this quickly turned to a deep moan as the phallus now buried deep in her rectum rested on the thin wall within and carried the vibrations back to her anus.

"See, crowed Ashley, I'm raping your arse and you're loving it."

Ashley now set up a slow but steady pumping action, using the full length of the rubber intruder. "Remember slave, don't cum until I say."

Jenny had found herself writhing in slow syncopation with her captor. Ashley's words froze her as she tried to quell her rising need. Jenny was terrified she would lose this game. She had no doubt Ashley would whip her raw if she came too soon. The vibrator started to change in pace, then progressed to pulsing with bursts of speed. It also seemed to be expanding and contracting within her. This assault was proving too much and Jenny felt the inevitable rising within her. She screamed her frustration at her body's betrayal when Ashley then suddenly stopped leaving her teetering on the edge. Jenny groaned half in relief, half in frustration.

"Oh this is too easy girl, are you really trying? You know how this works. Christ, how many stories have you written or read where the sub or slave must wait for permission? You've got to try harder slave."

Ashley started her slow pumping again, but kept the vibrator turned down low.

"No buyer is going to be happy with a Jenny who pops her cork five minutes after he's started playing with her." Jenny screwed up her eyes in frustration. Why was Ashley being so cruel? Or was she? Her words made sense. She could expect to be used for the rest of her life, she was a fucking sex slave after all.

Jenny tried to detach herself from her body. To put Ashley's abuse from her mind. She concentrated on what Ashley had been saying. Everyone had fucked her already. That was a frightening idea. It added depth to the leers she had gotten while out with Ashley. She had thought they were thinking they'd like to fuck her, perhaps some of them had, but they could have been thinking, "I know what you go like!" There was another Jenny here in this house. Had she been treated this way? Could she help? What would it be like meeting her?
A stinging slap to her backside brought her back to 'now'.

"Too far the wrong way slave," rebuked Ashley.

"Don't disconnect totally, you need to entertain your owner. Though well done for trying. Now stay with me but control yourself."

Both the vibrator and Ashley started up again. Jenny let herself react but tried to remove herself. It was hard as the vibrator was so fucking good. Once more she felt herself climbing close to the edge. Ashley felt it too, "Much better Bronwen, now control it, own it."

Desperately Jenny fought as Ashley's pounding became more forceful. How long can I endure this she wondered, and realised that she was enduring it. As if aware of the small progress Jenny had made Ashley rebounded her efforts. Then out of nowhere the vibrator started sending sharp stinging shocks to her clit.

Jenny squeezed and bucked as much as the ropes allowed. Relentlessly Ashley pounded. Jenny became aware her ring was burning. It was all too much! She was going to fail.

"Hold it slave, hold it." Ashley continued to fuck her ramming the rubber cock in to the hilt making her body shudder with the impact of each thrust. Jenny was teetering on the edge, as precarious as the impossible boots her feet were trapped in. Jenny wailed though not much noise escaped. It was going to hurt so much!

"You may cum slave." Her body reacted faster than her mind. Before she even realised Ashley had released her the most incredible orgasm rolled over her. Totally blissed out Jenny convulsed and trembled as wave after wave flowed over and through her. Thankfully Ashley grabbed her hips as her knees gave way, and saved her shoulders from dislocation. Jenny could not remember ever being fucked to such heights before. Reduced to a quivering mess, hung from her arms and impaled by her arse.

As Jenny regained control Ashley crossed to the wall and lowered the chain and Jenny's arms. Jenny swayed, not knowing how she stood as Ashley removed the spreader bar. Next she unlaced the hood then carefully pulling it forward so as not to catch Jenny’s nose ring she lifted it off. Putting the hood in a large container Ashley returned with a towel which she first used to wipe Jenny's face. Then reaching down she deactivated the intruder still lodged in Jenny's sex, it slowly shrank and Ashley carefully extracted it, once again avoiding the rings in her outer lips. It too was placed in the container with the hood. The towel, still handy, was used to catch and wipe away the juices released before adding it and the discarded rubber skirt to the same container.

Toys and towel disposed of Ashley returned to the still bound girl and wordlessly pulled her to herself and planted a long deep kiss on Jenny's lips. Jenny though exhausted returned the passion leaning forward while wishing her arms were free to hug the woman who had made her feel this way.

Ashley stepped back. "You want more, slave?"

Jenny hesitated and then said, "My mind says yes, Mistress, but my body says no."

"Yeah, you've had one meal and one drink but you're running on what you woke from the tank with. I think we'll put you to bed now girl, you have an early start." Ashley stepped around the slave girl and started on the laces.

"Could we share a kennel tonight, Mistress? Is that something done here?"

"Bronwen, I'm sorry, no." Ashley paused, then continued. "It is something done sometimes. The last girl to bed here often takes Emmy to bed with her... Two main reasons I'm saying no. First I'm the Alfa Slave here. Think sergeant major of a platoon. If the other girls see me bedding you first night you are here it could provoke jealousies that would make your life here difficult."

"You are the nicest sergeant major I've ever heard of, Mistress."

"Bronwen, you've not fucked up yet. Give me less than one hundred percent and you'll see me in a different light I'm sure."

"Never, Mistress."

"The second reason is you are going to be sold. Really. You are not an addition to this house. You are a task. You are to be trained to be sold."

Ashley, having undone the laces and straps, slid the glove off Jenny's arms. Dropping it to the floor she instantly started massaging the slaves shoulders and rubbing her arms.

"Bronwen, slaves don't marry, partner up, or form relationships... If they're smart that is... Slaves are rarely sold as couples. There is no such thing as a breeding pair. A racing pair of pony's is one exception I can think of. You are very much alone in your collar slave. How are your arms?"

"Umm, fine I think, Mistress."

"Sister, it's going to be scary being sent to auction. You'll have found your feet. Settled in and found your place. Then boom, your world is turned on its head. Don't make it worse by forming attachments you cannot keep."

Picking up the glove Ashley placed it with the other used items. She then returned to Jenny and planted an affectionate kiss on her forehead.

"Bronwen, all slaves love each other. Most will offer to share a kennel, a hug, a kiss anytime one is asked for or needed. Because we all understand how fucking lonely, scary and miserable it can be at times. We are people. Yet society deems us less important than animals. We look after our own." Ashley stroked Jenny's face and placed her hand on the slaves shoulder. "We will all love you while you are with us." Ashley chuckled, "Even the other Jenny… But let's not make your inevitable leaving hurt any more than it needs to, okay?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good now it occurs to me I’ve neglected a lesson in etiquette that I think you are about to need. You address slaves of equal or lower rank as sister or brother. You’ll have heard me do just that. You may call a slave of lower rank slave, but be sure you are right before you do. The only slave here lower than you is Emmy, and if you call her anything but her name you’ll make enemies of all the others. She is loved and appreciated by us all."

Ashley smiled, "Now it gets a little more complicated. Essentially you need to be careful when talking to someone about another. If I give you an order and an equal asks about it you would say Mistress Ashley ordered you. If an owner asked you, you would say slave Ashley, owners don't care, we are all just slaves. Plus they would be pissed that you elevated me, a lowly slave, to a rank equal with them if you referred to me as Mistress."

"That makes sense, Mistress."

"Rank is important in this time Bronwen, sometimes it is the only thing a slave has. For that reason it is important to them."

"I'll try to be careful, Mistress."

"Bronwen, you Jenny's are natural slaves. It'll all come easy to you. Plus in our own kennel we're a pretty informal crowd, so don't worry too much here. Now pick up that bin with the used gear in it. It's Emmy's job to clean it, then yours to return it. We're going back to the slave quarters and I think this time you are going to meet some of your sister slaves."

Jenny dutifully picked up the container and followed Ashley from the room. She was nervous, but excited too. Would the other Jenny be there? What is it like to meet yourself?"

She nervously followed Ashley into the slave quarters. The room seemed very busy and full of many bodies. It was clear from the second they entered they were all fascinated with her. Though none approached, except Emmy, who spotting the bin in Jenny's hands came over and took it from her.

Distracted by thanking Emmy Jenny near jumped when Ashley boomed out, "Sisters quiet!"

There was an immediate hush and Jenny became aware that everyone was staring at her.

In a quieter voice Ashley continued, "Sisters I have an introduction to make. Welcome to our family Bronwen. Be gentle with her, this her first day; remember yours. Careful of her rings, before you hug her to death, they'll be sore as they're new. As always she is O.O.B. tonight."

Jenny stood transfixed, a deer caught in headlights, wondering if she should say something. Everyone was grinning at her.
Then from the direction of the table someone asked, “Grief, did I look that startled on my first day?"

"Of course you did you silly cow, you're a Jenny. You all look like that when Ash brings you in." This was from a blonde woman dressed the same as Jenny. Jenny followed the direction of her gaze and found... herself, naked bar a steel collar locked tight about her throat, sitting at the table grinning at her. The other Jenny got up and approached her. Stopping in front of her she first looked around at the others.

"Okay you cons, you can snigger all you like, as soon as this Goddess, this absolute vision of beauty and hot dripping sex appeal is no longer O’bee… I get first dibs."

She then turned to Jenny, "Jenny," she started but was interrupted by Ashley.

"Jenny this girl has been named Bronwen."

"I caught that Ash, but I promise you, from personal experience, this glorious and wonderful woman still identifies as Jennifer Harrison."

Turning back to Jenny the other Jenny continued, "Jennifer, aka Bronwen, as a sister Jenny as well as a sister in slavery may I be the first to welcome you to this bizarre, surreal, and crazy fantasy. Unfortunately some of it sucks, but most of it is amazing. Some of the amazing includes this crowd of cons and clones. We will all have your back, you're one of us now. Let me introduce you to the crowd, you can trust me, I'm you."

The Jenny turned to the others, then pointed to the blonde who had just spoken. "This is Elisabeth, we call her Liz." Liz stepped forward and gently hugged Jenny before kissing her tenderly on the lips.

"Welcome sister Bronwen," said Liz, "I hope you are happy here." While Liz had been kissing Jenny the others had formed a queue and the Jenny introduced them all in a similar manner. There were six others as well as Ashley and Emmy; Ruth, Jill, Rachel, Kim, Carol and Jayne. All seemed genuinely pleased to meet her. After Jayne had hugged and kissed Jenny the other Jenny stepped in.

"I of course need no introduction, though I apologise for hogging our name."

She wrapped Jenny up in a hug and whispered in her ear, "I know exactly how you feel. Don't be frightened. The love here is genuine. We will all love and protect you."

Still holding Jenny in her arms the Jenny pulled back slightly and looked Jenny straight in the eye, then loud enough for the rest to hear she said, "Plus I know what you thought first time you saw yourself in the mirror in the hospital lift."

She winked cheekily, "As soon as Ash lifts the O'bee it's a date!" Everyone laughed at this and Jenny blushed deeply.

"What's O'bee?" Asked Jenny finding her voice.

"O.O.B or out of bounds, Bronwen," answered Jayne. "New girls are off limits from rapists like your sister Jenny until they've found their feet."

"We know this is overwhelming," added Liz, "so we give you space. So ignore what Jenny said. When you are ready, not before, then let whoever you want know. No pressure. The owners make demands of us, we don't do it to each other."

Jenny burst into tears, she could not believe everyone was so nice. At this the others started fussing and Jenny found herself ushered to the table and a bowl of food and a glass of water thrust upon her. Reflexively she started eating and once again realised she was ravenous.

"Grief, look at her eat, makes you jealous," observed Kim, "can any of you remember a day when you could shovel swill down like it was real food?"

Jenny looked up. "Am I doing something wrong?" She asked.

"Not at all sister," replied Kim, "We're just amazed at the sight of someone enjoying swill. When you've eaten all of the six approved flavours, and nothing else for years, you'll understand."

"This is all we ever get to eat?" Asked Jenny appalled.

“Well, there are six flavours," answered Kim, "plus we get regular sides of semen and vaginal fluids. So we shouldn't grumble."

"But we do," added Ruth.

"Sometimes an owner gives us a sweet. Or if you're in the kitchen you can snaffle some scraps," offered Rachel.

"But don't get caught stealing food," advised Jill.

"As I have to gag you for three days solid," informed Ashley.

"Which really and literally sucks," added the other Jenny.

"Okay you clowns,” inserted Ashley, “let Bronwen eat her supper. The rest of you to bed. First night rules now."

Jenny grabbed the other Jenny's arm as she stood to leave. "What are first night rules please?"

"No loud shagging noises," she smirked. "So you have a restful sleep."

The Jenny clone kissed her doppelgänger once more. "I'm so glad to meet you Jenny. Bronwen will work for you. Use it; it's a good name. I curse the fuck who left me with Jenny, and it'll not take you long to work out what that means."

She grinned. "This is so much better than our old life. Trust me. Latex, bondage and guilt free sex in doses you'll struggle to manage. Plus workouts on the road as a pony, and fun nights being the centre of attention. Love your collar slave, you've been saved from your old life.”

So saying Jenny’s clone twin crossed to a kennel, pulled down the flap over the open door, climbed in and pulled the door shut behind her.

Ashley took the Jenny’s place at Jenny’s side. “That wasn’t so bad was it?”

“They called you Ash, Mistress. Can I?”

“In here love, when we’re being informal, yes. If I give you an order, or outside in public..”

“…Mistress it’ll be,” finished Jenny.

“Good girl,” said Ashley.

“Ash, if we’re all locking ourselves in our kennels tonight, how do we get out in the morning?”

“Mine and Emmy’s have latches inside. Plus this is not a no go area for our owners. If they want one of us they’ll come and get us.”

“Oh! Okay. What do I do with this bowl?”

“Leave it, Emmy’ll get it in the morning. Let me show you to your suite my dear. You’ll find it has all the conveniences; a padded floor and really solid bars. Also as you’re new your accommodation is handily situated at ground level. With easy crawl in access.”

“Do I undress first, Ash?”

“No dear, you’re to be ready at all times. You sleep as you are. Then strip, shower and dress again in the morning.”

“Okay then…umm… Goodnight.” Impulsively Jenny hugged and kissed Ashley, before dropping to her knees and crawling into her cage. She turned around in the small space just as Ashley closed the door, locking her in. A faint ‘good night’ and Ashley’s ballet booted feet walked away. The lights dimmed and then Jenny heard Ashley climb into a kennel too.

Jenny looked out of the bars of her kennel. She listened to the gentle sound of the other slaves breathing in the adjacent cages. She thought about the day and all that had occurred. She thought about her lost family. That pain was keen. She felt so… so lost.

The man who had hurt her putting in her rings had been so casual about it. He wasn't an arch serial criminal. He was just a jerk bending the rules at work. She really didn’t matter, to anyone.

Ashley was being kind, but made no bones about her fate, she was going to be sold. No one cared she had been raped today.

He was probably going to be enslaved because he had lied to a police officer. Hurting her is a small fine because it reduced her value. How did she get her head around that? Heck the fact she was now pierced with a barcode tattooed on her mons was a huge deal. What the fuck had happened today? She had taken part in two sex acts. She'd been part of a threesome… She had been collared… She was now a slave… Tears flowed.

She lifted a hand to her collar. Her slave collar. She really was now a slave… She had been whipped and fucked in bondage, fucked up her back passage. No safe word offered, she was a real slave.

She had said, “Yes please!” Had excitedly asked to play. No negotiations, no limits. These were the things Jennifer Harrison fantasised about, and wrote about. But she did not do them.

This body was not Jennifer Harrison's. Some of Jennifer's DNA had been sampled, then the people had built this body according to that recipe. Using none of the raw materials, just the design. They'd even changed things, her family would have had no trouble telling her from the original, even before the piercings and tattoo’s.

So who's memories were in her head then? Who was she? The public were told the memories are made up, that she just thought she was Jennifer. What if that were true? Oh God what a mind fuck! Plus she had not fought; Willing all the way. She had helped Ashley collar her. Had followed meekly wherever she was led.

She looked at the boots locked in place holding her feet en pointe. Bar some discomfort she had walked in these within minutes. That seemed quick. The bar in her tongue was too big; it had never swollen after being pierced. I bet human tongues did. So perhaps she was not Jennifer Harrison. If not who was she? The ghost of Jennifer or perhaps just an echo? Oh God!

But she could remember her mum! Her past lovers, the last day of school, her mates, the day she fell, the tree she climbed, the piano lessons, the bike she rode...  Fuck. She was lost. Lost in a world where fantasies and nightmares came true. Right now, this very moment, she was locked in a cage, naked bar some latex gloves and stockings and a crushing rubber corset. Her feet were locked into insane boots that made, no forced her, to walk on her toes. Locked around her throat, tight, unyielding, inflexible and hard was a collar of steel. Set in her flesh, through her nose and through her nipples were steel rings. Tattooed into her skin over her pubis was a barcode for fucks sake. It was repeated on her hip and shoulder. It was fairly certain who she was. You scanned it and up came details. A long number and the name Bronwen.

Bronwen was a pretty name. The clothes, the collar, the rings and the cage were fantasies of Jennifer Harrison. Being forced, losing control of everything, to be enslaved, helpless, lost, yet owned. Everything Jennifer had ever wanted. Or thought she wanted. So often she had said, “Be careful what you wish for."

Jennifer had been trapped. A crazy, sick and unfair catch twenty two of real life. Yet now... Now she was collared, enslaved, owned, property, objectified, a thing, a toy, a slave... She was free to be who she really was.

Today a person had referred to her as 'it' and she had not batted an eye. Today she had been reborn and her owner, not her mother, had named her Bronwen. The slave papers, rather than a birth certificate said she was called Bronwen. Jennifer Harrison was a memory then, a collection of memories. She was a Jenny, but her name was Bronwen? That felt... right. She could work that, and keep sane. I am Bronwen then, not Jennifer. Jenny is in the cage above me. Bronwen smiled, she felt a little less lost. A new life with a new name; a fresh start. What would happen tomorrow? Only one way to find out. Bronwen curled on her side and let sleep claim her shattered body.