Epilogue
My owners have asked me to write down my memories of the day they saved my life.
The previous night, I had been drunk and upset. I climbed out the bathroom window of the Railyard Pub and began to stagger my way home through stacks of containers. Suddenly, I encountered Machete Man, his blade held high, chasing me through the maze of rail cars. I narrowly escaped by hiding under a container where I hit my head and blacked out for several hours. I finally made my way home and retreated to the safety of my cage where I fell into a particularly troubled sleep.
I awoke. I assumed it was morning. I had used my new head harness blindfold that locked on out of my cuffed wrists' reach. As I do every morning, reach through the door of my cage to reclaim the keys that bind me inside the cage. However, this morning, when I pressed against the cage door, I found that it was still locked. At first, I thought that I had arisen too early and Lisianski had not yet let me out.
I waited for a while. I heard distant sounds outside. Daytime sounds - delivery trucks, etc.
Lisianski? Where are you?
There was no reply.
I reached out between the bars of the cage and felt for the combination lock. It was still securely closed around the hasp.
Desperately, I tried to feel the dial for any way to determine numbers. I know the combination after all, 32 - 38 - 16. There was no revealing texture to indicate the position of the numbers.
I pulled and scratched at my blindfold, but it didn't budge.
A chill rippled through my body. I suddenly realized that it was never Lisianski who unlocked the cage in the morning. I unlocked the cage. I don't ever remember opening the lock, but Lisianski was just a voice. She wasn't magical. She used my eyes. And now my eyes were locked behind a blindfold.
The more I thought about it, the more I began to see flashes of memories of twisting the combination, releasing the hasp.
I began to cry. I knew that I was about to experience a painful, lonely death by dehydration. Police would break down my door weeks from now and find my decomposing body crumpled in my locked cage. A story like that would make the national news.
I prayed that Lisianski would return and sing me to sleep one last time.
It was late in the afternoon that I jerked from my stupor. I heard the sound of a key in my door. Who the hell could this be?
"subGrrl? subGrrl? Are you here?"
Oh my god, BossWoman!
I can't make much noise, but I try. I was rocking around in my cage trying to get the dinner table to squeak. The bells on my nipples were tinkling.
"subGrrl?" Oh, shit! And NemesisGirl too.
Finally, they made their way into my dining room and found me in my cage.
Well, it took about an hour to communicate the combination to them by tapping the numbers on the table.
When I finally tumbled out they both stared at me in horror. Indeed, I was covered in dirt and blood and bruises and scratches.
"What happened to your back, subGrrl?" BossWoman asked. "I don't remember seeing all these scars, when you were naked in the supply room at the office."
I shrugged my shoulders. They have been there for years. (BossWoman was in the supply room that night?)
"Are you, ok, subGrrl? You can talk now," NemesisGirl said. "We aren't playing the magic gag game now."
I looked at her like she was crazy or rude or something. I grabbed my tablet and wrote, "I've been mute my entire life, idiot!"
BossWoman and NemesisGirl looked at each other strangely. I typed out, "What?"
<>--+-
Well.. It took me a while to convince them that I did not want to go to the police. I did not want to talk with a psychiatrist. Finally, they agreed under the condition that I stay with them at their place for a couple of weeks.
Weeks turned to months. I got rid of the apartment and moved in with them.
They freaked out a little when I told them about Lisianski. But I promised that I hadn't heard from her and that if I did I would report it immediately.
I started teaching myself American Sign Language. I have no idea why I hadn't before. It seems like a sensible thing for a mute girl to do. We worked together on BossWoman's new company. We've even made a profit now for the first time.
I remember being so jealous of NemesisGirl that night at the Railway Pub when I saw her kiss BossWoman. Truthfully, I'm not sure who I was jealous of, but... I guess happiness is really only one paradigm shift away. I had never considered polyamory before, but, damn! we are all so happy now. I think it works so well because we all have our distinct roles in creating a family. BossWoman is the visionary. NemesisGirl is action oriented. I am the creative one in our house.
We are playing for keeps now. We go on family vacations together. We go out biking on the weekends together - out to dinner and drinks. Fuck the idea of being married, but that is basically what we three are. Of course, not in the traditional sense. Sometimes we even all sleep in the same bed - those rare instances when they don't chain me on the floor, or even better, lock me in my small cage.
I work in a basement room on the weekdays. I've convinced them to install metal bars so that it feels more like a cell. I make them lock me in there when they are out. I feel so much safer that way. Another nice thing about working in my cell is that I don't have to wear clothes. I just don't like itchy cloth dragging around on my skin. Metal, of course, is a different story. NemesisGirl had a steel collar manufactured for me inscribed with the word, "FOREVER". I also wear cuffs on my wrists which are linked to my collar with heavy chains. The chains don't restrict me in any way. I just like the sound that they make. Sometimes I wear a leash.
BossWoman convinced me to pierce my clitoris. A small, metal tag hangs from the titanium ring that says "Our Loving Pet, subGrrl".
I love my role as the pet. I feel as though it is an invitation to love unconditionally. Unconditional love is so beautiful. I'm always there to comfort either of them. They love the way that I bathe them. They pay me back by doing things to me that I want them to.
For example, the other night I slithered my way backwards into my old small cage and padlocked it shut. I applied the belled nipple clamps and the feeding gag. I locked my head harness blindfold on and wrapped my wrists in metal restraints anchored to the door of the cage. The finger at the back of the cage had been freshly cleaned and lubricated. I slowly began to work it between the cheeks of my ass and push back against it. Each thrust would send a blast of chocolate into the back of my throat (Mmm!) Meanwhile, NemesisGirl stood behind the cage and slapped my ass with a switch. (Holy shit! That hurts so much more than I ever fantasized.) The pet tag rocking and swaying from my clitoral piercing tugged me to orgasm after orgasm.
Why do I do this to myself? I choose to.
I chose to do it yesterday. I'll choose it again forever into the future. After all, isn't THAT what it means to be a feminist? A feminist is a woman who chooses the path of her life.
That is me. subGrrl.
Submissive, Feminist, Loved.
Postscript
"Dr. Markov! Nice to see you!" said a tall woman with long, jet-black hair and a tan the color of the winter moon. She looked up from her computer monitor and stretched her arms.
"I haven't thanked you, Lisianski, for your dedication and devotion to acquiring Laysan for us - very impressive work."
"Thank you for having faith in me, Doctor," Lisianski responded.
"How is Laysan acclimating? Is she compatible with Paty?" the elder woman asked.
"She is. Paty is getting lots of help from the members of the Benedetta Carlini. I think that Laysan is very happy. It helps that she is so submissive. We will be able to keep her hidden from outsiders quite well."
"Excellent! We will need to start experiments on her as soon as possible. And so, how is subGrrl getting on?" Dr. Markov asked, twiddling a pen between her fingers.
"Great! She's never been happier in her life!" Lisianski smiled.
"Delete her."
"Excuse me?" Lisianski asked, suddenly dumbfounded.
"Yes. Delete her. And BossWoman and NemesisGirl. Delete them all. Delete the whole simulation."
"But..." Lisianski fumbled. "We've been running this simulation for years. It'll take years to create anything so complex again! We'd be throwing away so many valuable insights to so many things."
"That is a negative consequence." Dr. Markov stated matter of factly. "But the simulation is a liability now. Suppose we were hacked by our enemies. Suppose our enemies got their hands on this data. It would be disastrous. subGrrl seems to be turning into Laysan by the sound of your reports. What if our enemies found her? Our advantage would be nullified. Delete subGrrl. Delete the simulation. Destroy the hardware."
"But... that's terabytes of data!"
"Do you have a problem following my orders, Lisianski?"
"No, ma'am."
"Ok then. Do it this afternoon before you leave for your vacation."
"Yes, ma'am."
<>--+-
The cloudy evening sky was losing its gray glow as Lisianski walked from the office, across the parking lot, and into her Chrysler LeBaron. She drove out through the security gate and navigated the neon lit city streets. A sea of red brake lights greeted her as she descended the on ramp to the highway.
"Shit! I'm going to be late to meet up with Paty... Late for the Benedetta Carlini meeting. Fuck!"
Lisianski sighed and turned on the radio. Cake! "Short Skirt / Long Jacket".
Lisianski drummed the steering wheel for a moment, then pulled a pendant necklace from underneath her blouse. She kissed the pendant which, as it so happened, doubled as a ten terabyte flash drive.
"I love you, subGrrl!"
She turned the radio a little louder.