The man, her master Rachel corrected, led the girls to a dark van in the back lot of Trixie's. He pulled the doors open, and Rachel and Kitty were surprised to see several young women in various states of undress hanging suspended from chains. They were gagged, but even though their eyes were wide with fear, none of them made noise. Instead, they kept their eyes downcast.
A few minutes later, Kitty and Rachel were gagged and hanging with them. Their bodies swayed in the dark as the van engine started up and accelerated down the highway. In the darkness, Rachel could smell the musk of women in heat. She could hear muffled moans and whimpers, and she could feel flesh and hair brushing against her.
They drove like that for several hours, the monotony only lessened by the mumbles of a talk radio station playing upfront.
The van drove up a winding private road through Virginian forest past a sign titled "Welcome to the Covenant: May you find peace."
The Covenant was publicly described as a private monastery and clubhouse for influential Evangelical Christians. A preacher who had made millions through televised revivals bought a hundred acres of land and built the compound as a sort of private gathering place for religious and political leaders to commune.
The truth was, however, the Evangelical preacher had been turned by the Covenant. They had converted the man's wife and two college-aged daughters into concubines and taught them to regard him as their lord.
In return for making them his sex slaves, and keeping him connected to their robust network of political leaders and celebrities, he gave them the Virginia property as a gift. The Covenant used the complex as its headquarters. Non-consenting women were brought in and then sent out reformed as compliant trophy-wives, mistresses, and escorts all to serve the Covenant.
The van crossed a nine-foot brick wall through a wrought iron fence, a dozen video cameras following. A half an hour later, it pulled into the facility.
Rachel, Kitty, and the girls were led out of the vehicle into a massive complex surrounded by state of the art buildings. Men were walking around dressed in olive green military vests, guiding behind them leashed, simpering women.
The soldiers herded the girls along into the main building and through a large bay door marked, "Intake." Inside, long streams of girls, all in their twenties and beautiful, were being split apart into groups by other older more severe women, dressed in dark skirts and white blouses. They seemed in charge, though they deferred to any man who came in.
One of them was strutting up and down the line with a clipboard in her hand. Her hair was done up in a tight bun above her head, and her serious face was adorned with a pair of horn-rimmed glasses. She wore a white blouse with the top few buttons loosened to reveal a silk décolletage. Around her waist was a dark blouse, cut short enough to reveal opaque black stockings clipped to a garter belt. Where her skin flashed, it was marked with tattoos and other markings of ownership. She walked up and down the line of submissive girls on a pair of black high heels, frowning and making marks in her notebook.
"You're a classy slut. You look like someone a politician or CEO might have on his arm. Trophy wife material. Get her in line TW 3. This one goes to the Clerical pool, area 3. Move the blonde to our overseas account. Push your tits out slut. You've clearly had work done. Set this one up in stripper training."
As soon as she made her decision, other women would grab a girl, put a collar and tag around their neck, then drag them away via a leash to god knows where.
Rachel and Kitty were lined up for inspection. In front of her was a thin, athletic young brunette. Rachel noticed her calf and leg muscles were remarkably toned. She's clearly a runner, thought Rachel, admiring her perky ass.
Next to her was a black woman in a business suit jacket. She was older in her late thirties and looked like an educated professional type. Her curly black hair was cut short to her head.
The woman went up to inspect them. She scanned the line of scared girls.
"You will address me as Ms. Steffans," the woman said with an authoritarian tone. "You will obey me or any other man at this facility. You are untrained sluts, and it is my job to oversee your training, at least initially, until you find the attention of a man. Since, as of now, you are worthless to the Men of the Covenant, it is up to another mistress or me to oversee your training."
She turned towards the leggy brunette. "Spread your legs."
The girl complied. Ms. Steffans ran her hands up and down the legs and calves of the girl. She reached her hand inside her yoga pants to cup her pussy. Her hands slid across her stomach and ass. She cupped and fondled her breasts and checked the muscle tone in her arms and shoulders. She even pulled the girl back by her hair and inspected her teeth with her fingers.
"You're pony-girl material if I ever saw one. Enjoy your last day as a human, my little slut. Take her to the ranch." The brunette was dragged off.
An African-American woman was glaring at Ms. Steffans. Judging from her business suit and subordinate glare, Rachel assumed that she was a businesswoman or a lawyer, someone in a position of authority.
"You'll never get away with this. I work for the Justice Department. My boss is the Attorney General." Said the black woman.
"Who do you think gave you to us?" Said Ms. Steffans with a smile.
She reached her dainty hands around the older, black woman's throat and pressed her face against hers. "We have a place for uppity little slaves like yourself. You're the property of the Covenant now, and about to make a certain Supreme Court judge a pleased man. Take her to the Antebellum."
She moved on.
"No. Nooo." The woman screamed as she was dragged off.
Ms. Steffans turned towards Kitty next. At this point, Rachel was concerned for both her lover and herself. Clearly, this was the moment when the two teen girls would be separated, and panic started to rise in Rachel's chest. Ms. Steffans scanned the PDA in front of her.
"It looks like you have already been selected, little one. Your abductor has taken a liking to you. He wants you to be put in obedience training, to be a little Kitty that he can adopt."
"No," Screamed Rachel and grabbed hold of her friend and lover.
Kitty mewed into her arms.
"Girls, get them." Strong yet feminine hands grabbed hold of Rachel as she clung to Kitty. Slowly, the two girls were dragged apart as they clung to each other, screaming.
Ms. Steffens began laying into them with a crop until both girls were sobbing, prostrating upon the ground.
"Get her out of here!" Growled Ms. Steffans.
She grabbed Rachel by the hair and dragged her up on her knees roughly. "Don't expect to see your ginger-haired rug-munching dike-slut girlfriend. We plan on taking her vocal cords out, so all she can do is purr, and lower her intelligence to that of a dumb animal. She's going to spend the rest of her life under the ownership of her new master and you, well, we have plans for you. You are going to be a weapon, designed to seduce and gather intelligence for our organization. Your body you will give to any man we tell you to, but your mind and soul will belong to us. Take her to special operations for processing."
***
Rachel was dragged throughout the complex. Around her, she could see girls in the same predicament as her, dressed in different sorts of slut attire.
Rachel couldn't quite describe the need she had come to feel towards Kitty. It felt somewhat like love, though Rachel wasn't even sure she knew what love was anymore. The effects of the pheromones, and the way they were altering her very identity, made Rachel suspect every emotion she had.
Rachel admitted her feeling towards her masters; indeed, any man who would wish to take her was that of absolute adoration. She could rationalize it, she noticed, but it was still there. Consciously and unconsciously affecting all of her actions.
The building that Rachel was brought to was at the far end of the complex. Behind it was a track where Rachel could see young women running and doing gymnastics. The building looked like a church or a synagogue. Still, the only religious symbol was a strange phallic device attached to the outside of it.
The first thing Rachel noticed was that all the women in this building were different. Whereas the women outside appeared as abject sluts (unsuitable for most public displays), the women inside the building were dressed far more modestly, though still stunningly beautiful. She walked by a room where female instructors were instructing attentive young women on decorum and political discourse. In a gym, other girls were dressed in sweats and involved in some sort of Krav Magra training.
She was led to the back where some laboratory equipment and a large machine resided. There was a lady, beautiful, wearing a black turtleneck and grey skirt running down to her knees. She had propped some reading glasses across her pert nose and appeared to be reading something on the machine. Her hair had been pulled up in a bun and held with a silver hair clip. Her hairstyle showcased her long equine neck and revealed pearls that hung from her ears. The entire package suggested an elegant, intelligent lady.
"Thank you, ladies, you may leave her here."
The woman stood up demurely and walked over elegantly on high heels. A young girl, in her twenties, was kneeling under the machine, her head buried in a nest of wires. She appeared to be working on fixing it.
The woman looked her over, talking to herself. "Man made woman to serve his needs. The most visible example, of course, is the submissive beauty that all females share and give up to all men."
"We must be molded to be pleasing to them in all ways, even ways that we cannot predict being of a lesser nature. An impossibility. Now, what do men wish you to be molded into?"
Rachel submissively dropped her head to the floor. "I'm sorry, Mam. I don't know. Some men like to use my mouth or my ass."
"I'm sure men do, you sweet little thing. But if they sent you to me, that means they want more than that. My name is Mistress Constance. There will be no more mindless sadism towards you, my little lady. You and your little body are more important to the Covenant than toys of pleasure or status symbols for the rich and powerful."
"What is the Covenant?" Asked Rachel.
