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Even when they awoke her to feed her, she wasn’t really awake.Instead, she dreamed.She dreamed of the life that she was built for, the life that she was born for. She dreamed of how joyous it was to get to experience a life of freedom—true freedom. Freedom from making decisions, freedom from having to work. The freedom that only came with complete servitude.For three days and three nights, Alexis dreamt. The small voices that tried to fight against her programming were easy to ignore. Even when their words had the ring of truth to them, Alexis knew that it was just her mind trying to trick her. The life that she’d had before, that had come from the tricks, and Alexis had no intention of returning to it.On the fourth day she awoke, feeling groggy and confused. The door opened, and Joe entered the room. A huge grin spread across Alexis’s face at the sight of him—when Joe around, life was easier. Everything was better when her Master was present, and Joe was her Master—that was clear to. “Forgive the language, Anita,” said Malcolm, “but I have to agree with your daughter. You look absolutely stunning.”Anita smiled and pirouetted. Her outfit accented her every positive feature, of which there were many. She was wearing a very tight white leather miniskirt which only barely covered the tops of her sheer stockings. The stockings highlighted her shapely legs, right down to the four-inch white spike heels she had on. A matching white leather bustier pushed her D cup breasts up and out, so that seeming acres of freckled flesh were exposed. Over the bustier top, she wore a short white leather bolero jacket. Her makeup was done lightly but perfectly, and her perfume was intoxicating to both John and Malcolm. Anita carefully climbed onto a barstool next to John and seductively crossed her legs. Reaching over, she placed a balled-up fist in John’s blazer pocket and withdrew it, empty. “You like it?” she asked.“I should say so!” said John. He reached into his pocket to see what.
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