Chapter 34: Chapter 34
Annette sat on the shuttle bus heading to the park, her heart fluttering with excitement. She read the briefing packet for the park for what must of been the twentieth time, determined to memorize it so that she would be able to roleplay a Gorean Free Woman as well as possible.
She scanned the pages, her eyes widening as she took in the details of the society she was about to enter. "Free Women," she read aloud, "are held in high regard by Gorean men, those of high caste enjoying great power and privilege, as long as they obey the strict rules of behaviour." She continued to read, her heart pounding in her chest as she took in the details of the role she was about to play. "A Gorean Free Woman must not be seen without a veil in public and must behave in a chaste and proper fashion. Free Women not behaving up to these standards are subject to exile, or being reduced to slaves' ." Annette took a deep breath, her mind racing as she tried to take it all in.
She flipped to the next page, her eyes scanning the text. 'Slaves,' she read, 'are the backbone of Gorean society, existing solely for the pleasure and service of their owners. They have no rights, no freedoms, and are subject to the whims of their masters.' She felt a shiver run down her spine, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through her veins. She had always been drawn to the idea of submission, of giving up control, and this seemed like the ultimate expression of that. As the shuttle pulled up to the gates of the park, Annette took one last look at the packet, her heart pounding in her chest. She was ready to embrace her role as a Gorean Free Woman, and maybe, just maybe, to explore the darker side of her desires. "Alright, everyone," the driver announced, "welcome to the Gorean theme park. Please make your way into the reception building to receive your final briefing on the rules of the park." Annette joined the other guests, almost all men, as they made their way into the building. The reception area was large and airy, with high ceilings and marble floors. A long table filled with refreshments ran along one wall, and a stage was set up at the far end of the room. As they entered, a hush fell over the crowd, and all eyes turned to the stage. A woman stood on the stage, her eyes scanning the crowd. It was Isabella, dressed in the exquisite robes and veil of the Ubara of Ar, Free Companion of Victor the Ubar, the ruler of the city. Beside her knelt Lily, only dressed in a brief tunic, with a collar round her neck, indicating her status as Isabella's slave.
"Welcome, welcome, my honored guests," Isabella began, her voice clear and commanding, filling the room. "I am Isabella, Ubara of Ar, and it is my pleasure to welcome you to our humble city. I trust your journey here was pleasant, and I hope that you are all eager to begin your roleplaying experience." She paused, her eyes scanning the crowd, a small smile playing on her lips. "I must remind you all that this is a place of fantasy, where you may indulge in your deepest desires, but always within the boundaries of safety and consent. Our rules are strict, but they are in place to ensure that everyone has a enjoyable and respectful experience." She gestured to the table of refreshments. "Please, help yourselves to some refreshments, and then we will begin your orientation.
In the meantime, I encourage you all to mingle, to meet your fellow guests, and to begin to immerse yourselves in the world of Gor." With that, Isabella stepped down from the stage, followed by Lily, who remained close to her side. Annette, feeling a little overwhelmed by the sheer number of people in the room, made her way to the refreshment table, pouring herself a glass of wine. As she turned to scan the crowd, she noticed a couple standing nearby, the man tall and broad-shouldered, the woman petite and delicate. They were looking around the room with eager eyes. Annette, feeling a pang of shyness, hesitated for a moment before approaching them. "Hello," she said, her voice soft. "I'm Annette.
Are you new to the park as well?" The man, Michael, turned to her with a warm smile. "Yes, we are. I'm Michael, and this is my wife, Cassandra. We're excited to explore Gor together." Cassandra blushed slightly, her eyes cast downwards. "I'm looking forward to it," she said softly. Annette raised an eyebrow, curious. "Together? As in, you'll both be roleplaying?" Michael nodded. "Yes, that's right. Cassandra will be roleplaying as my slave." Cassandra's blush deepened, but she kept her eyes downcast. Annette's interest was piqued. "That's... unusual," she said, choosing her words carefully. "Most couples here seem to keep their relationships separate from their roleplaying." Michael shrugged. "We're not like most couples. We've always had a... unique dynamic.
We prefer to explore our fantasies together." Cassandra looked up, her eyes meeting Annette's. "It's not as strange as it sounds," she said softly. "We've always been into power exchange, and this seems like the perfect way to explore that." Before Annette could respond, a group of young women approached them, dressed in the revealing tunics and collars of Gorean slaves. "Excuse me, sir," one of them said, addressing Michael. "We're here to take you and your... companion to the changing rooms to dress you for your roleplaying experience." Michael nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Thank you," he said, taking Cassandra's hand. "We're ready when you are." The young woman turned to Annette. "And you, miss? Would you like to join us as well?" Annette hesitated for a moment, considering the offer.
"I... I think I will," she said, her voice filled with newfound determination. She turned to Michael and Cassandra. "Would you two like to join me?" "Absolutely, let's do this together." Cassandra, still blushing, nodded her agreement. The young woman led them through a set of double doors and into a large changing room filled with racks of clothing. "Please, choose whatever you like," she said, gesturing to the racks. "These are all authentic Gorean outfits for Free Women." Annette's eyes widened as she took in the selection of robes and veils, her heart fluttering with excitement. She reached out, running her fingers along the soft fabrics, feeling like a little girl playing dress-up. She picked out a deep red robe, the color of blood, and a matching veil that would cover her hair and most of her face.
As she slipped the robe over her head, she felt a shiver of anticipation run down her spine. This was it. She was really doing this. She adjusted the veil, making sure it was secure, and took a deep breath. As she stepped out of the changing room, she was greeted by a sight that made her heart skip a beat. Michael stood tall and proud, dressed in a leather jerkin and red cloth tunic of a Gorean warrior. Beside him knelt Cassandra, her head bowed, dressed in a brief tunic that left little to the imagination. A collar, similar to the one Lily wore, encircled her neck, a leash attached to it resting in Michael's hand. Annette's eyes widened in surprise, her mind racing as she took in the scene before her.
Before long all the guests were dressed in Gorean attire. Isabella signalled for the double doors at the end of the room to be opened, "Welcome to Gor," said Isabella, gesturing to the door, inviting the guests to enter the park. She had expected to be led into a grand city square, perhaps with some market stalls or maybe even a grand arena. But this... this was something else entirely. The sight that greeted her as she stepped out of the changing room was unlike anything she had ever seen. The room opened up into a vast, open-air market, filled with people in various states of undress. Women, naked and in collars, knelt or stood in lines, their heads bowed, chains securing them to rings set in the floor. Men, dressed in leather and cloth, barked orders, inspecting the women like they were cattle. And then, among the chaos, Annette heard a voice. It was Isabella, standing on a raised platform, her voice carrying over the din.
"Honored guests," she called out, "I have an announcement to make. As a special welcome to our esteemed visitors, I am declaring that today, any of you may purchase a slave to serve you during your time in the park!" Murmurs of excitement rippled through the crowd. Annette's eyes widened in shock. She assumed that the women here were all part of the roleplay, volunteers hired to act as slaves. Annette had decided that as a high caste free woman she would need a serving slave, presumably this was when she was supposed to get one.
She turned to Michael, who was starting to lead Cassandra away from the market, "I thought we were all supposed to have a slave?" She asked. Michael smiled, "Normally yes, but Cassandra has agreed to be my slave for the duration of our stay here. So, I won't be buying one." Annette's eyes widened in surprise, "Oh, I see," she said, her mind racing with questions. Before she could ask any further, Isabella's voice rang out again, "Now, honored guests, let us begin your journey into the world of Gor. Those of you who wish to buy a slave can do so here, or you can head off on your own to explore." With that, she turned and led the way through the market, the guests who had decided to buy a slave following in awe. Michael said goodbye and headed off into the mock city, Cassandra obediently heeling him.
Annette took stock of the Gorean currency she had been allocated, a number of coins in a pouch secured on her belt, and started browsing the stalls filled with attractive slave girls. She wondered what type of women would agree to be employed by the park to pretend to be slave girls.
As she was pondering this, she noticed a commotion at one of the stalls. A young woman, no older than herself, was standing on a raised platform, her hands bound behind her back. She was naked, her body on full display. A man, dressed in the finery of a high caste Gorean, was circling her, inspecting her like she was a piece of livestock. He grabbed her chin roughly, tilting her head this way and that, examining her teeth and eyes. The girl stood still, her eyes downcast, her body trembling slightly. Annette watched in horror as the man then ran his hands over the girl's body, squeezing her breasts and hips, making her flinch. He seemed satisfied with what he found, and turned to the stallholder, handing over a pouch of coins. The stallholder counted the coins, nodded, and then handed the man a length of chain.
With a satisfied smirk, the man attached the chain to the girl's collar, giving it a sharp tug. "Come, slave," he commanded, leading her away from the stall. Annette watched in disbelief as the girl, her head still bowed, obediently followed the man, the chain clinking softly as she walked. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. This was just a game, right? A roleplay? But the girl seemed so... real. Shaking her head, Annette turned her attention back to the stalls, determined to find a slave of her own. She wandered from stall to stall, her eyes scanning the rows of women, all naked except for their collars. They stood or knelt, their heads bowed, their bodies posed beautifully.
Annette's eyes scanned the rows, taking in the different shapes and sizes of the women on display. She noticed one in particular, a redhead with a slim, athletic build, knelt at the end of a row. There was something about her that caught Annette's eye, a spark of defiance in her gaze despite her submissive posture. Intrigued, Annette approached the stallholder, a burly man with a thick beard and a cruel smile. "How much for the redhead?" she asked, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. The stallholder turned to her, his eyes lingering on her body for a moment before meeting her gaze. "Ah, the Mistress has good taste," he said, his voice low. "That one is a feisty one, but she's well-trained. She'll cost you 2 silver pieces." Annette hesitated, her mind racing.
A slave, for real? But this was just a game, wasn't it? She looked at the redhead again, her eyes meeting the girl's defiant gaze. Something about her called out to Annette, a challenge she couldn't resist. "I'll take her," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. The stallholder's cruel smile widened, and he held out his hand for the coins. Annette fumbled with her pouch, counting out the 2 silver pieces and handing them over. The stallholder pocketed the coins, then unhooked the redhead's chain from the ring on the floor. "She's all yours, Mistress," he said, giving the chain a sharp tug. The redhead, her head still bowed, rose to her feet and stood before Annette, her body tense. Annette looked down at the girl, her heart pounding in her chest. This was really happening. She had bought a slave.
The thought ran through Annette's mind like a mantra as she stood before the redhead, her heart pounding in her chest. She had never owned a slave before, let alone a real one. But here they were, in this strange, immersive world of Gor, and she had just spent 2 silver pieces on a living, breathing woman. The redhead stood before her, her head bowed, her body tense. Annette took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. "What's your name?" she asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. The redhead looked up, her defiant gaze meeting Annette's. "Whatever you wish, Mistress," she said, her voice flat. Annette hesitated, then said, "Well, you do now. I name you Katia." Katia blinked, surprise flickering across her face. "Thank you, Mistress," she said, her voice softening slightly. Annette nodded, satisfied.
"I want you clothed. You're mine now, and I want others to know it." She turned to the stallholder. "Where can I find clothing for my slave?" The man pointed towards the exit. "There's a stall near the market's exit, Mistress. It sells slave clothing." Annette nodded, taking Katia's chain in her hand. "Come, Katia. Let's find you something to wear." As they walked through the market, Annette felt a sense of possessiveness she had never experienced before. Katia walked beside her, her head bowed, her body tense. Annette could feel the eyes of the other guests on them, and she held her head high, her heart swelling with pride. This was her slave, her property. She could do with her as she pleased. As they approached the stall, Annette's eyes widened in surprise. The clothing on display was not what she had expected.
Rather than demure robes and veils, it was mostly revealing tunics and brief outfits, designed to leave little to the imagination. Annette's eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks flushing slightly. She had not realized that the clothing for slaves would be so... revealing. She turned to the stallholder, a plump woman with a kind smile. "Where are the robes?" she asked, her voice hesitant. The woman chuckled, "Oh, those are for the Free Women, dear. Slaves are meant to be seen, to be admired. That's why we dress them like this." Annette bit her lip, considering her options. She wanted to dress Katia appropriately, but she also wanted to see her slave's body, to admire it herself. She scanned the racks, her eyes landing on a tunic made of thin, shimmering fabric. It was barely more than a scrap of material, designed to cover only the most necessary parts.
Annette's eyes widened as she imagined Katia wearing it, her body on full display. She turned to the stallholder, her heart pounding in her chest. "I'll take that one," she said, her voice steady. The woman smiled, taking the tunic from the rack and holding it up for inspection. "A wise choice, Mistress," she said. "This one will make your slave the envy of the market." Annette nodded, her eyes lingering on the tunic. She could already picture Katia wearing it, her body highlighted by the shimmering fabric. She turned to Katia, who stood silently beside her, her head bowed. "Put it on," she commanded, her voice firm. Katia looked up, surprise flickering across her face. "Yes, Mistress?" she said obediently, and slipped into the tunic.
Annette watched as Katia's body was revealed, her curves accentuated by the shimmering fabric. She felt a strange mix of possessiveness and desire, her heart pounding in her chest. She handed Katia the piece of parchment with the address of the apartment she had been assigned in the city. " Lead the way, Katia," she commanded, her voice steady. "I want to see my new home." Katia looked up at her, surprise flickering across her face. "Yes, Mistress," she said, taking the parchment from Annette's hand. She glanced at the address, then turned and began to walk, her hips swaying slightly as she moved. Annette followed, her eyes lingering on Katia's body, her mind racing with thoughts of what was to come. As they made their way through the cobblestone streets, Annette couldn't help but marvel at the attention to detail of the fake Gorean city. The buildings were meticulously crafted, their stone walls and wooden shutters giving them an authentic feel. The streets were narrow and winding, lined with market stalls selling everything from fresh produce to exotic spices. People in Gorean attire filled the streets, going about their daily lives, creating a bustling atmosphere that was both thrilling and overwhelming. "Look at this place, Katia," Annette breathed, her eyes wide with wonder. "It's incredible." Katia glanced back at her, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Yes, Mistress. The Ubar has spared no expense in creating this world." Annette nodded, her eyes scanning the cityscape. She couldn't believe that this was all just a theme park, a place for people to come and roleplay their fantasies.
It was all so... real. As they finally reached the apartment, Annette couldn't contain her curiosity any longer. "Katia," she said, as they stepped inside, "I need to ask you something." Katia turned to her, her head still bowed. Annette took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to say. "Break character, Katia. I need to know how you ended up here, playing a slave in this park." Katia hesitated for a moment, surprise flickering across her face. Then, she looked up, her eyes meeting Annette's. "You want me to break character?" she asked, her voice soft. Annette nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. "Yes," she said, her voice steady. "I need to know the truth. How did you end up here?" Katia took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for what she was about to say.
"I'm not really a slave, Mistress," she began, her voice soft. "I mean, I am here as a slave, but it's not... it's not real. I'm a college student, and I'm working here to pay for my tuition." Annette's eyes widened in surprise, her mind racing with questions. "What do you mean, it's not real?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Katia hesitated for a moment, then continued, "I'm an actress, Mistress. I was hired to play the part of a slave, to help create this immersive experience for the guests. I'm not really a slave, I'm just pretending." Annette stared at Katia, her mind struggling to process what she was hearing. "But... but the collar, the chain..." she stammered, her eyes flicking to the collar around Katia's neck. "It's just a costume," said Katia, smiling, "at the end of the week I'll be heading back to class."
Annette let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Thank goodness," she said, "I was starting to feel a bit guilty about the whole thing." Katia laughed, "You don't need to feel guilty, Annette. It's all just pretend. Besides, I'm getting paid quite well for it." She paused, then added, "Speaking of which, I should go and do some shopping. Do you need anything, Mistress?" Annette shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "No, thank you, Katia. I think I'll just settle in here and explore the apartment. You go ahead, and I'll see you later." Katia nodded, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "As you wish, Mistress. I'll be back soon." With that, she turned and left the apartment, leaving Annette alone to explore her new surroundings.
As she walked through the bustling market, Katia couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that had settled in the pit of her stomach. She had lied to Annette, plain and simple. She had told her that she was just an actress, playing a part, when in reality, she was a doll, a creation of Dr. Victor Von Reinhardt. She had been transformed against her will.
As Katia walked through the market, lost in thought, she remembered being Eileen, a waitress at a bustling diner, living a simple, ordinary life. She remembered receiving a voucher for a free beauty treatment at Victor's Clinic, the promise of a new, improved version of herself too tempting to resist. She remembered the bright lights, the strange machines, and the cold, impassive face of Dr. Victor Von Reinhardt. And then, she was transformed into a doll slave, now a submissive, sexually enhanced puppet, forced to obey Victor if she wanted to remain human.
She remembered the pain, the fear, and the helplessness. She remembered being activated, her body responding to the commands of her new master, her desires and needs no longer her own. She remembered being sent to the theme park, to serve as a slave for the guests, to fulfill their every desire. And now, here she was, standing in the middle of a bustling market, carrying a bag of groceries, wondering how she had ended up in this twisted world. She sighed, pushing the memories to the back of her mind, and continued on her way, her bare feet on the cobblestones. As she entered the apartment she saw Annette reclining on a couch.
"Mistress, I've returned," Katia announced, placing the bag of groceries on the table. Annette looked up, her eyes meeting Katia's. "Thank you, Katia," she said, sitting up. Katia hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Mistress, may I ask you something?" Annette raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Of course, Katia. What is it?" Katia took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to say. "Mistress, I was wondering... would you like me to please you?" "What do you mean, Katia?" Katia took a step closer, her eyes locked onto Annette's. "I mean, Mistress, that I am here to serve you in any way you desire.
If you wish for pleasure, I am programmed to provide it." Annette's eyes widened in surprise, her heart pounding in her chest. She had not expected this, not so soon. But the thought of having this beautiful, submissive woman at her mercy was thrilling. She hesitated for a moment, then said, "Stand up, Katia. Let me see you." Katia rose to her feet, her head still bowed, her body tense. Annette's eyes scanned her slave's body, taking in the curves highlighted by the shimmering tunic. She felt a surge of desire, her heart pounding in her chest. "Turn around," she commanded, her voice steady. Katia turned slowly, her body moving gracefully. Annette's eyes lingered on her slave's ass, her mind racing with thoughts of what was to come. "Strip," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Mistress?" "Strip," Annette repeated, her voice firm. "I want to see your body." Katia hesitated for a moment, then began to undress, her movements slow and deliberate. She slipped the shimmering tunic off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, leaving her bare. Annette's eyes widened as she took in her slave's body, her curves accentuated by the dim lighting of the room. Katia knelt before her, her head bowed, her body tense. Annette's heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in short gasps. She could feel the heat building between her legs, her desire growing with each passing moment. "Let me please you, Mistress," Katia whispered, her voice soft. Annette nodded, her eyes locked onto her slave's body.
"Very well, Katia. Show me what you can do." Katia looked up at her, her eyes filled with hunger. She reached up, her hands grasping the hem of Annette's robe. Slowly, she began to pull it up, revealing Annette's thighs, her hips, and finally, her pussy. Annette gasped, her heart pounding in her chest as Katia's fingers brushed against her skin. Katia's eyes lingered on Annette's pussy, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. Then, without warning, she leaned in, her mouth clamping down on Annette's clit. Annette cried out, her hips bucking as Katia's tongue began to move, swirling and probing, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. She could feel her orgasm building, her body tensing as Katia's tongue worked its magic.
"Oh God, Katia, yes!" she cried out, her fingers tangling in her slave's hair, holding her in place. Katia's tongue flicked and swirled, her lips sucking and teasing, bringing Annette closer and closer to the edge. Then, with a final, powerful thrust, Katia sent her tumbling over, her body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Annette screamed, her hips bucking as she rode out her orgasm, Katia's tongue never letting up, drawing out her pleasure until she was gasping and spent.
Finally, Annette pushed Katia away, her body trembling. "Enough, Katia. That was... that was incredible." Katia sat back on her heels, a satisfied smile on her face. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Mistress," she said, her voice soft. Annette took a deep breath, her mind racing. She had never experienced anything like that before, the intensity of her orgasm still coursing through her body. She looked at Katia, her slave, her property, and felt a surge of power. She was in control here, and she liked it. "Come, Katia," she said, standing up and holding out her hand. "Let's get cleaned up. I'm hungry." Katia took her hand, rising to her feet.
I shall draw you a bath." Annette joined Katia in the bathroom. The bathtub was a large, claw-footed affair, deep enough to immersion herself completely. Katia had already prepared it, the water steaming gently, filled with fragrant oils and petals. Annette stepped in, sighing as the warm water enveloped her, the scent of lavender and rose filling her nostrils. She leaned back, resting her head on the rim of the tub, her eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of the water against her skin. "Thank you, Katia," she murmured, her voice soft. "Now, help me wash." Katia nodded, picking up a washcloth and a bar of soap. She began to wash Annette's body, her touch gentle yet firm, her hands exploring every curve and contour. Annette sighed, relaxing into the touch, her eyes closed. "That feels wonderful, Katia," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Katia smiled, continuing her task, her hands moving over Annette's skin, leaving a trail of soap suds in their wake. After washing Annette thoroughly, Katia helped her out of the tub, wrapping her in a large, fluffy towel. She then proceeded to dry her off, her touch gentle yet efficient. Once Annette was dry, Katia led her to the bedroom, where a beautiful gown lay waiting on the bed. "Mistress, I have chosen this gown for you," she said, holding it up for Annette's inspection.
It was a beautiful thing, made of shimmering silk in a deep shade of emerald green, with intricate gold embroidery along the hem and sleeves. Annette's eyes widened in appreciation. "It's stunning, Katia," she breathed, running her fingers over the fabric. "I thought it would suit you, Mistress," Katia replied, a small smile playing on her lips. She helped Annette into the gown, the silk sliding over her skin like liquid gold. It fit her perfectly, the bodice hugging her curves, the skirt flowing out around her like a waterfall. Katia then produced a veil, made of the same shimmering silk, and fastened it to Annette's hair, covering her face. "There, Mistress," she said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. "You look like a true Gorean Free Woman." Annette smiled, turning to look at herself in the mirror.
"I do look rather fetching, don't I?" she said, admiring her reflection. Katia stood behind her, her eyes meeting Annette's in the mirror. "Indeed, Mistress," she agreed. "I was thinking, Mistress, that you might enjoy attending a tavern this evening. There's a particularly fine one not far from here, where the Gorean men gather to drink and... socialize with the Free Women." Annette turned to look at Katia, her eyes widening in surprise. "A tavern?" she repeated, her voice hesitant. "I don't know, Katia. Isn't that a bit... dangerous?" Katia shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. "There is no danger here, Mistress," said Katia, "remember that this place is designed for your pleasure and safety." "Very well, Katia," Annette said, a thrill of excitement coursing through her, "let's go to this tavern." As they stepped into the tavern, a hush fell over the crowd. All eyes turned to Annette, her shimmering gown and veil marking her as a high-caste Free Woman. Katia, with her head bowed and hands clasped behind her back, followed closely behind. The tavern was filled with the low hum of male voices, the clink of glasses, and the sweet scent of pipe smoke. Annette felt a frisson of excitement as she took in the scene. This was a world away from her ordinary life, a place where she held a position of power and privilege. She walked to the bar, her head held high, her eyes scanning the room. A serving slave, dressed in a tunic even more revealing than Katia's, came up to them, "would Mistress like to be shown to a table?" Asked the stunning brunette slave.
Annette noticed Michael, the man she had met at the orientation building, sitting at a nearby table with Cassandra kneeling beside him, her head bowed, her hands resting on his thigh. She hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the sight of Cassandra in such a submissive position, but curiosity got the better of her. "Katia, come with me," she said, striding towards Michael's table. "Michael, Cassandra," she greeted them, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. Michael looked up, a smile spreading across his face. "Annette! What a pleasant surprise," he exclaimed, standing up to greet her. Cassandra, however, didn't move, her eyes cast downwards. "Join us, won't you?" Michael offered, gesturing to the empty seats at his table. "We were just about to order another round. Cassandra, pour our guest some wine," he commanded, patting the top of Cassandra's head affectionately.
Cassandra rose gracefully, her movements fluid and practiced, and poured Annette a glass of wine from the jug on the table. Annette sat down and took the glass, her eyes flicking between Michael and Cassandra, curiosity piqued. Katia knelt next to her mistress. "Thank you, Cassandra," she said, taking a sip of the wine. It was sweet and fruity, with a hint of spice that lingered on her tongue. "So, Michael," she began, placing her glass back on the table, "what brings you to this tavern this evening?" Michael smiled, settling back in his chair. "I've come here to enjoy the company of other Goreans, to discuss politics, trade, and, of course, to enjoy the delights of the Free Women," he said, his eyes lingering on Cassandra, who had returned to her position at his side. Annette raised an eyebrow, her eyes scanning the tavern.
"And what delights might those be?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity. Michael's smile widened, and he gestured towards the center of the tavern. "Behold, the delights of Ar," he said, as four slave girls clad in strips of translucent silk began an erotic dance performance. The girls moved with grace and fluidity, their bodies writhing and swaying to the beat of the drums. They wore little more than scraps of material, their curves and contours on full display. The tavern fell silent, all eyes turning to the spectacle unfolding before them. Annette watched, her heart pounding in her chest, as the girls danced, their bodies moving in perfect synchronization. She glanced at Michael, who was watching the performance with a hungry expression on his face. Beside him, Cassandra's eyes were cast downwards, her body tense.
Michael's hand rested on her shoulder, his thumb tracing circles on her skin. Annette watched as the dancers' movements grew more and more suggestive, their bodies pressing together, hands roaming, lips meeting in passionate kisses. She couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading through her, her heart pounding in her chest. She glanced at Michael, his eyes locked onto the performance, his breath coming in short gasps. She could see the bulge in his pants, his arousal evident. She felt a twinge of jealousy, wishing it was her he was looking at with such hunger. She shifted in her seat, squirming slightly as the dancers' hands began to explore each other's bodies, their moans and gasps filling the air. She could feel the heat building between her legs, her pussy throbbing with desire. She looked at Katia, kneeling beside her, her head bowed, her body still.
Michael suddenly stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Cassandra," he said, his voice firm, "come here." Cassandra, who had been kneeling beside him, looked up, her eyes meeting his. She hesitated for a moment, then rose to her feet, her head still bowed. Michael grabbed her by the arm, pulling her roughly towards him. "Under the table, now," he commanded, his voice low. Cassandra hesitated for a moment, then, with a glance at Annette and Katia, she did as she was told, disappearing beneath the table.
Michael sat back down, a smug smile on his face, his eyes locked onto Annette's. She could hear the muffled sounds of Cassandra's sucking, the wet, sloppy noises filling the air. She felt a surge of arousal, her heart pounding in her chest. She glanced at Katia, kneeling beside her, her head bowed. "Katia," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "get under the table. Lick my pussy." Then, she nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. She rose to her feet, her movements graceful, and disappeared beneath the table. Annette leaned back in her chair, her eyes closed, her breath coming in short gasps. She could feel Katia's tongue, hot and wet, against her pussy, licking and probing, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body.
She moaned softly, her hips bucking as the dancers on stage reached their crescendo, their bodies writhing and grinding against each other. She could hear Michael's ragged breathing, could feel the table vibrating as Cassandra worked her magic beneath it. Suddenly, Michael let out a loud groan, his body tensing as he came, his cock pulsing in Cassandra's mouth. At the same moment, the dancers on stage froze, their bodies locked in a final, explosive pose, the music coming to an abrupt halt. The tavern erupted in cheers and applause, the sound of Michael's orgasm and Annette's cries of pleasure drowned out by the noise. Annette, her body still trembling from her orgasm, opened her eyes and looked around, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She pushed Katia away, her slave emerging from beneath the table, her face glistening with Annette's juices. "I... I need to clean up," Annette stammered, standing up, her legs feeling weak. "Excuse me, Michael." She turned and walked, unsteadily, towards the back of the tavern, where she had seen a sign for the 'wench's chamber'. As she pushed open the door, she was surprised to find that, despite the tavern's Gorean theme, the bathroom was modern and well-equipped. "Well, that's a relief," she muttered to herself, as she stepped into the stall and locked the door behind her. She quickly cleaned herself up, using the provided towels and soap, her mind racing with what had just happened.
As she stepped out of the stall, she realized she had taken a wrong turn, finding herself outside the dancer's dressing room instead of the main tavern. The door was slightly ajar, and she could hear laughter and chatter coming from within. She hesitated for a moment, then looked through the gap in the door, her curiosity getting the better of her. She saw a woman in modern dress chatting with the dancers. "Good performance girls," said the woman, "now I'm going to turn you back into dolls and put you into the transport tube to the next tavern." The dancing girls, still slick with sweat from their exertions, got to their feet with calm expressions on their faces.
They didn't seem to notice or care that they were naked, their bodies glistening under the harsh overhead lights. Annette watched in confusion as the woman in modern dress pulled out a small device, no bigger than a cell phone, and pointed it at the girls. The woman pressed a button, and a bright light pulsed from the device, bathing the girls in its glow. To Annette's horror, the girls began to shrink, their bodies contracting and compressing until they were no taller than eight inches. Their features remained the same, their expressions frozen, but their bodies were now those of tiny, perfect dolls.
Annette gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. What kind of sick game was this? She watched, horrified, as the woman picked up the four dolls, one by one, and dropped them into the entrance of a small tube set into the wall. With a hiss, a vacuum kicked in, and the dolls were sucked away, disappearing into the darkness. "What the...?" Annette whispered to herself, her heart pounding in her chest. She had to get out of there, and fast. She pushed open the door, her eyes scanning the main room of the tavern, searching for Katia. "Katia!" she called out, her voice barely above a whisper, "Katia, where are you?" She saw her slave, kneeling beside Michael's chair, her head bowed. "Katia, come here!" Annette commanded, her voice firm. Katia looked up, her eyes meeting Annette's, and rose to her feet, her movements graceful. "Yes, Mistress?" "Take me home, now," Annette ordered, her voice barely containing her panic. Katia hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking between Annette and Michael. "Yes, Mistress!" Said Katia, leading Annette out of the tavern.
"Did you enjoy the performance, Mistress?" Annette didn't answer, her mind racing with what she had just witnessed. She couldn't shake the image of the dancers shrinking, their bodies compressing until they were nothing more than tiny dolls. She glanced at Katia, walking beside her, her head held high. Was she next? Was she merely a doll, waiting to be turned back into one? "Katia," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "what happened to the dancers?" Katia glanced at her, her expression unreadable. "What do you mean, Mistress?" Annette hesitated, then said, "I saw them, Katia. I saw them turn into dolls." Katia stopped walking, her eyes widening in surprise. "Mistress, I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice firm. "I think you do, Katia," Annette replied, her voice cold.
"And I think you're going to tell me everything. Starting with who owns this godforsaken place and why those girls are being turned into dolls." Katia's eyes widened in fear, and she looked around nervously. "Mistress, you must leave this place at once," she urged, grabbing Annette's arm. "The owner, he will not allow you to leave after seeing what you have seen." Annette shook her arm free, her eyes narrowing. "Who is he, Katia? Who is the owner of this park?" Katia hesitated, then said, "His name is Dr. Victor Von Reinhardt. He is a powerful man, Mistress, and he will not take kindly to you knowing his secrets." Annette's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing. She had to get out of there, had to warn someone about what was happening. "We have to run, Katia," she said, her voice firm. "I can't leave, Mistress," said Katia, "he owns me, completely. You have to run, now!" Annette cried, pushing Katia away. Before her slave could react, she turned and sprinted back towards the slave market, her heart pounding in her chest. She could hear Katia calling after her, but she didn't look back. She had to find the exit, had to get out of this place. She burst into the slave market, her eyes scanning the closed stalls, searching for an exit. She could see the dim outline of a door at the far end of the market, half-hidden by shadows. She ran towards it, her breath coming in ragged gasps. As she approached, she could see that the door was locked, a heavy chain and padlock securing it shut. She cursed under her breath, her fingers fumbling with the lock, trying to find a way to pick it. Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her, the sound of someone running. She didn't dare look back, her hands shaking as she continued to work on the lock.
Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed her by the arm, spinning her around. She found herself face-to-face with a woman dressed in the hunting gear of a Free woman of the Gorean warrior caste. "You shouldn't be here," the woman said, her voice flat and emotionless. Annette's heart pounded in her chest as she realized this was a member of park security. "Let me go!" she cried, struggling against the woman's grip. But the woman was too strong, her fingers like a vice around Annette's arm. "I'm afraid I can't do that," the woman replied, her voice cold. "Dr. Von Reinhardt wants to see you." Annette's blood ran cold as she was dragged away, her mind racing with fear and panic.