The abductors entered the streets with their package. Dana was a sight to behold, naked save for her thigh high shiny red boots and long red gloves, arms manacled in the back at wrists and elbows, which accentuated her breasts just fine, a very huge shiny red ballgag, her glossy black lips draped around it, leashed, her head rubberized in red save for her face, her blue eyes wide and moist, the typical gag stare. 
She was mmmppffing constantly, couldnt help herself but make this ridiculous groans into the latexaball. 
Dana tried to win the attention of passersby, the streets were crowded. She succeeded easily, but not in the way she had hoped for.
A couple, middle aged, one in trousers and boots, the other in a dress, stopped by the abductors, as these paused to light cigarettes.
“What a slave! A beautiful body, and so hot! Look Kushimal!”
One of the abductors laughed and said:
“Yes, shes a very juicy beauty.”
“UMMMPPHH! MMMPPHH! HMMMPPHH!”
Oh, what this woman did to her boobs... she thought she would faint. Her noises were no longer groans, it were screams. Then she cumed. She found herself on her knees on the street, the others laughing.
Dana pulled weakly at her manacles.
“Yes, she is very promising. Is she for sale?”
“No, we have just bought her ourselves for some fun in our flat. We are students and share one.”
“I gathered that, young Madamellettes.”
The pair continued on its way.
“Up, slut!” one of the girls said and pulled the leash. Dana remained on her knees. A broad lash hit her across the buttock cheeks.
“UMMPPH! MMMPPHH!”
That hurt and aroused her at the same time. She was lashed again. With difficulty, she stumbled to her feet. More honey dripped out of her strained pussy. Two teenagers, seeing it, laughed, they too not the least suspecting Dana was no slave.
The group moved on. Many passersby, some even touching Dana, inadvertently or on purpose. She tried to get the peoples attention again and again, but when she succeeded, she found they were interested in her only as a hot slave. Her desperation grew, and her hotness - the bonds, the huge gag,the lustcream, the head rubberization, the occasional sharp lashes were one thing, the other  was the feeling to be a helplessly packaged slave guided through the streets among other people. It aroused her immensely. Was she a slave at heart after all? No, she didnt wont to be robbed of her freedom, it was only a sexual thing. The thought calmed her a bit. 
Until a large woman with black skin and waistlong black hair, a Mambaka, wearing achaian clothes and speaking Achaian, stopped the group and asked to inspect the hot slave. She proved to be an expert in handling and hotting slaves, in fact a slave tradress.
“Slave, do you wish to be satisfied, to get relief?”
“UMMPPHH! MMMPPHH!GGMMMSCH!” Dana nodded emphatically.
“Put your gagged mouth to my boot.”
Dana on her knees again, complied immediately. Another shiver ran through her body as she humiliated herself this way, pressing her gagged mouth on the shiny leather of the womans boots.
She nearly cumed. Suddenly, three sharp lashes fell on her button cheeks, which rose into the air behind her.
She screamed in the gag. Everyone around her laughed. Why is it, she asked herself, tears in her eyes, that this helplessness and humiliation arouses me so much? Is this just me, or do all women feel the same? Everyone loves bondage, everyone is hot when packaged. Are women all slaves at heart? And if so, who owns us?
The Mambaka went about her business, Dana was conducted back on her feet, she deep in thought.
She was still hot, but had calmed a bit now. The question reveberated in her mind: Who owns us?