Jessie blinked twice. Her eyes felt gritty. Slowly she became accustomed to the bright light shining down into her face. She felt strangely woozy and muzzy headed like the first symptoms of the flu. Jessie lay back on whatever it was she was resting upon and tried to think. It was difficult to think for some reason. Her thoughts were slow to form. It took an immense effort on her part to even try and think about anything. She tried her hardest to remember where she was and what had happened. The last thing she recalled was returning to her car in the parking garage after her regular Wednesday night workout in the gym. After that there was a hazy memory of people, voices followed by lights and then blankness. Jessie frowned at the disturbing thoughts. But for some reason she couldn't attach any sort of emotion to these disturbing thoughts. Neither anger or fear assailed her. Without an emotional response, did disturbing memories actually mean anything? They were just thoughts after all.
A heavy fog of passivity clogged her mind. Jessie stared contentedly up at the fluorescent lights for quite some time. As she was finding it so difficult to think, she didn't.
Some time later, Jessie didn't know how long, someone came into the room she lay in. The person stood close by, but out of her eye line so Jessie couldn't see whoever it was without turning her head. And Jessie didn't want to do that. Turning her head at this stage was akin to the thought of running two marathons back to back.
Suddenly Jessie heard a single word spoken aloud. A clear, crisp command.
"Stand," came the instruction from the person standing nearby.
Jessie's muscles suddenly came to life, Her torpor vanished instantly. She sprang forth, clambering off the padded bed she had lain on and felt the cool tiles against her bare feet. It was only as she stood up that Jessie realised that she was completely naked. All her clothes were gone. Her small, but pert, breasts hung unbound before her and the hair between her legs had been shaved smooth. Yet, still she was unable to muster up any emotional response to this situation. All her concentration was devoted to the one task she had to perform. Standing. Everything else was irrelevant.
Jessie stood up straight, arms by her sides, legs together and chest thrust outwards. The pose she adopted felt completely natural and normal to her.
For the first time it was possible for Jessie to see the woman who had commanded her. Even in her current frame of mind the sight in front of her caused what passed for shock within her slowly working mind.
The woman stood watching Jessie. She was slightly taller and slimmer than Jessie with a very fit looking body. What clothes she wore were all glistening white rubber. Latex gloves that reached almost up to her armpits covered her arms while each foot was encased in a tight black rubber stocking which began at the top of her thighs before ending in a high heeled boot. The woman's chest and bald pussy were completely uncovered and open to view apart from a rather large tattoo branded into her flesh above her pussy. Jessie read the single word picked out in large, clear black letters inscribed above the woman's sex: SLAVE. As if that wasn't shocking enough, the woman's face was almost completely invisible; a tight white latex hood covered her head apart from eye holes and a triangular opening which only exposed her mouth and nostrils. The hood seemed to thicken into a solid and very uncomfortable looking posture collar around the woman's neck.
"You cannot think," the rubber clad woman told her in the same calm, clear voice that brooked no argument.
If she had been able to nod, Jessie would have done so. It was the truth. She couldn't think at all for some reason. But she knew that there was nothing to worry about. Jessie wanted to show the woman she understood.
The words slipped out of her mouth smoothly. "I cannot think," Jessie agreed.
As soon as she had spoken, Jessie returned to the most urgent task at hand. Standing. All her concentration was devoted to that one simple act. For some reason Jessie knew she had maintain this uncomfortable stance.
There was a pause. The woman's full lips moved as she spoke again. "You want to obey."
Again, Jessie nodded inwardly. Again, she had to agree that what the woman said made sense. She couldn't think for herself so she had to be told what to do. Jessie needed to be commanded and instructed. She knew that she was completely incapable of thinking for herself or forming decisions. Therefore it was only natural that she should follow commands.
"I want to obey," Jessie recited.
Yet another pause. Jessie worked on maintaining her stance and looked at the woman while she waited for her to speak again.
"You are a slave," the woman informed her.
Jessie absorbed this new piece of information in silence for a moment. Was she a slave? That sounded correct. The rubber woman had not lied to her yet. But somehow, Jessie felt that this was different. This piece of information was much more important. She hadn't always been like this. Jessie still had memories about a time before now. There were memories of laughter and kissing under a tree on a warm summer's day. Jessie knew those were happy times. She remembered. Those were the times before the flickering lights and the spirals had consumed her thoughts and she had become a slave.
"I am a slave," Jessie announced calmly. The memories were just that; memories of a time gone by. A previous life Jessie had once led. Jessie was a slave now.
* * *
Trishaa strode confidently through the bustle of the arrivals area of the airport, wheeling her expensive case behind. It had been over six months since she'd seen Jessie. Ever since her little sister had taken that job here in this distant city they had been apart and Trishaa missed her. Despite the cool, calm professional exterior Trishaa had cultivated, she was a big softie as far as her little sis was concerned. Sure, they'd spoken regularly on the phone, gossip, love-life, work stuff but there was nothing better than getting together in person. Jessie had suggested that she come and visit after Trisha had mentioned she had 2 weeks off coming up with nothing in particular to do.
A last brief holiday before the new Task Force came on stream. Right now, the bigwigs were still ironing out the politics of this new semi-autonomous, interdepartmental, interjurisdictional deniable operation that would take care of all sorts of dirty laundry without too many questions being asked, or answered. Expediency and deniability were the politicians prerogative. But in all honesty, Trisha didn't care about those issues. She would deal with whatever problems the politicos threw her way later on just as she had done in the Agency. Assistant director of operations had a real ring to it, especially as she was only thirty four. A combination of brains, beauty and ruthless back-stabbing had ensured Trisha's rise to the top and this plum job. A full director by forty. It was a real possibility.
Through the barriers Trisha suddenly caught sight of her younger sister. Tall and naturally blonde, Jessie had always been the cutey of the pair but now she looked absolutely ravishing. Even through the heavy winter coat Jessie wore, Trisha could see that her sister's body looked more toned and her face seemed to effuse a happy glow. Were her breasts larger? It was hard to tell from this distance. Perhaps she was mistaken. Trisha beamed a smile towards her sister and moved quickly towards her radiant sister.
"Hey sis," Jessie, exclaimed excitedly.
"Hey yourself Jes," Trisha grinned back, "You look absolutely great! You must have got some new guy that you've been holding out on!"
Jessie laughed. "Something like that. I cant wait to tell you all about it later," her sister chuckled in reply. "But how about a hug from my big sis first?"
Beaming her broadest, happiest grin, Trisha closed the distance and embraced her sister. Around them the usual throng of arriving passengers and waiting relatives went on as usual. Trisha smelt the sweet fragrance of Jessie's favourite perfume as she hugged her. Jessie was holding her tight with her arms.
Suddenly without warning there was a sudden sting in the back of Trishaa's neck. Jessie's removed her left hand from Trishaa's neck slowly. The small pinprick and the tiny drop of blood that oozed out when the needle withdrew were invisible beneath Trishaa's shoulder length dirty blonde hair.
