"slave."

i turned, though there were other slaves in the vicinity and none of us had individual designations. we all turned, as we were conditioned to do.

The speaker was a lovely young woman with long, wavy black hair; olive skin; and kohl-rimmed eyes half-hidden behind designer sunglasses. Lady Marina. i was not allowed to form opinions of the young women who commanded me, but i did notice a special tingle whenever this one looked my way. As she did now.

i placed my hands against my forehead, palms out, and spread them while bowing: the traditional symbol that my mind was hers to command.

She gestured me over and i knelt at her feet, crouching until my forehead touched the sand. "How may i please you, Lady?" i murmured, raising my head just far enough to see her face.

She stretched languorously in her lounge chair, slyly watching my mirrored eyes track across her perfect breasts and legs. "you like my body, don't you, slave?"

"Of course, Lady. You are beyond beautiful."

She touched a finger to her lips in teasing thought. "But do you like it because you're programmed to like it, or do you like girls all the time?"

i blinked. i had no way to process a question such as that, but obedience demanded a response. "Lady, i must apologize, but i cannot answer you properly as i have no memory of my life before internship. i do not know what my sexual preference was."

She reached to stroke my naked breast, a casual gesture of both ownership and affection. "I remember you," she purred. "Would you like me to tell you about yourself?"

i bowed my head. "Lady, you know i would not be able to process the knowledge. The nanites in my brain--"

She cut me off with a chuckle. "I know. you can't even hear your own name now, can you, -----?" A sound left her lips, but it made no sense to me, and i forgot it the instant i heard it.

A little thrill electrified me from clit to skull as i considered just how tightly my mind was bound. i had been a person once - and would be again, when my internship was over - but for now i was a nameless, will-less slave. And thanks to the wisdom of the Dominants, i reveled in every second of it.

It was not in me to question how much of my arousal was my own and how much was generated by nanites and chemicals. All i knew - all i was permitted to know - was that the Dominants did everything they could to make the population want slavery. Our Founders, whose Supreme Dominance was unassailable even after hundreds of years, had stipulated that no citizen be forced permanently into a role not of his or her own choosing. On the other hand, the world did run more smoothly with a pliant populace, and most jobs were best performed by workers who never grew bored or distracted or just plain lazy. So anyone who might be willing to entertain the notion of permanent submission was encouraged to do so by every means possible. Internship was the prime example. Every citizen had the chance to experience six months of total submission in his or her late teens. There were no exceptions.

Really, ours was the best of all possible worlds; the nanites assured me of this. The only truly unhappy citizens were those who lacked the will for Dominance yet feared the ecstasy of surrender. Oh, our Rulers made allowances for perversity both small and great; the Constitution demanded it. There were varying levels of submission available to the hesitant, and the unrepentantly deviant were always free to eke out their miserable existence far from civilized society. In fact, our Rulers had set aside Australia just for them.

The Dominants held all the power, and submissives who retained a bit of free will and who possessed the right skill sets could rise quite high; but it was those who gave themselves up completely to slavery who lived the happiest lives. The nanites assured me of this even as they kept me from questioning the idea. In fact, they told me they were keeping me from it, and then told me how good that felt. i had no choice but to agree.

Some day, roughly six months from now, i would complete my internship and be restored to personhood. Then I would decide whether permanent submission was right for me - and if so, just what kind of permanent submission. Or perhaps I'd realize (remember?) that I was a Domme. There would be no internship to help me decide if that were the case; Dominants just rose naturally to the top like the cream They were.

Anyway, right now i couldn't even consider the idea of being a Domme, nor did i want to. submission was absolute heaven.

Watching me, Lady Marina's lips curled in a charming smirk. "I'm going to grant you a favor, slave," she announced. "I'm going to let you oil my body." i bowed again in acknowledgement of the joined honor and command. Then i crept to the bottle of suntan oil and poured some into my palm.

my own skin, like that of all submissives, was impervious to the sun's rays. A silvery layer of epidermal nanites protected us from most forms of damage - and also marked us as being less human than machine. Only a Dominant (or an untested schoolgirl like Lady Marina) displayed Her or His natural skin to the world. A suntan was a mark of prestige.

i straddled the lounge chair and slid my slave-marked palms across her body. Lady Marina plugged a cable into the tech-jack behind her right ear, pretending to ignore me while she absorbed her lessons for the day. i could tell, though, from the way her nipples rose beneath the tiny triangles of her bikini, that she was enjoying my ministrations. slaves were conditioned to notice such things.

The Lady's body arced into my hands, inviting them to close in across her chest. my programming steered me true, and my hands slid beneath the fabric of her top, gently massaging her breasts; then squeezing, kneading, gently tweaking her nipples.

my own body was on fire. my nipples, which had been stiff silver nubbins from the moment my internship began, felt hard as diamonds now. my cunt was as slick as the Lady's oiled body, and my clit quivered with the kind of need a slave had no right to feel - or, at least, to fulfill - on her own.

Without warning, Lady Marina grabbed my right hand and plunged it beneath her bikini bottom, deep inside her snatch. She screamed as i began automatically to tickle her clit with my thumb while simultaneously plunging one finger, then two, and finally three deep inside her - in and out, in and out, more quickly than any mere human could have managed. slave reflexes were augmented for just such occasions as this.

A whine built deep inside me as i felt the Lady approach climax. my only desire was to make her come, yet this desire burned so fiercely within me that completing it would quench my own flames, too. That was the way of slavery.

Lady Marina flung her arms and legs around me, bucking her hips hard around my hand and shrieking like a siren.

i had serviced other girls at the Academy before now, but never any who had reacted as strongly as this. Pleasing a Lady so thoroughly made me feel as though i were exploding from the clit outward. Only the nanite reinforcements held me upright as orgasm turned my legs to jelly.

Eventually Lady Marina looked up at me and grinned. Her sunglasses had slid all the way to her chin, and her warm brown eyes sparkled with glee. "-----," she said, using my name again, "you are absolutely the best slave ever. Absolutely perfect."

i lay in my programming pod that night, fresh nanites flooding my brain through the tech-jack behind my right ear, fresh chemicals flooding my bloodstream through the bio-jack behind my left. i was so deeply entranced that not a single thought stirred of its own accord; but the pod plundered my memories of the day and replayed those best suited to deepen my submission, enhancing them with bursts of light and sound and chemicals - and, of course, thrusts of the vibrator. What little awareness i retained lay completely between my legs.

In my limp and pliant mind Lady Marina orgasmed endlessly, thrusting her hard little nipples into my palms and coating my fingers with her precious nectar. Then she told me what a perfect slave i was. Every time she said it, the pod brought me to fresh climax.

my programmed persona molded itself firmly around this simple mantra: i was a perfect slave. Perfection was slavery. slavery was ecstasy. i was a perfect slave.

Lady Marina soon became the center of my world.

Oh, i serviced other girls at the Academy - almost daily, after our public display at the beach. i heard a rumor, passed from one Lady to another and eventually on to me, that my talent for pleasuring and obeying went far beyond simple programming. The pod made great use of that idea in the days to come. i was taught, down to my tiny silver core, that i was a born sex toy.

Of course, this sex toy was Academy property; so any free girl on campus could use me however she liked. Some were kind, some cruel. My reinforced skin healed from many a wound without leaving a trace, and the pod convinced me that i loved the abuse. Some girls just wanted a tutor or a maid, and had no sexual interest in me at all. The pod told me i loved that, too.

But somehow, by the end of each night's refresher course, Lady Marina's face had supplanted that of every other Lady i'd been with that day. Perhaps it was simply that i saw so much of her; she seemed to favor me above all the other slaves and called on me specifically for every manner of task, sexual and otherwise. Or perhaps the programming pod, in its infinite wisdom, had decided that this one Lady's image was best suited for inducing me to choose permanent submission.

i had no way of knowing, or even wondering. All i knew was that every sight of her, even a sideways glimpse of her face across a crowded room, was enough to set my clit on fire.

i lay on the couch in Lady Marina's private dorm room, posing as she had placed me, wearing nothing but a modern recreation of a centuries-old corset. Lady Marina had pointed out its beauty to me in great detail, lingering over the delicacy of the turquoise fabric, the detailing on the embroidered silver peacock plumes (She said the color looked especially lovely against my skin), the silky black laces that climbed my back and cinched everything snugly in place.

i had no ability to judge, but i believed the corset to be beautiful because my Lady told me it was beautiful. Also, I reveled quite naturally in the constriction i felt while wearing it. The corset did to my body what the nanites and chemicals did to my mind. i was bound, inside and out. Exquisite.

Lady Marina, meanwhile, managed the appearance of lounging even while sitting in a stiff-backed chair. She never seemed less than elegant, but today she was especially so in her own pseudo-period gown with its high, stiff collar and bosom-baring neckline. Frothy layers of silk spilled out around her hips and down to her heels, but her crossed legs were bare.

"I just love delving into the past," the Lady told me. "Older civilizations might not have been as enlightened about some things as we are, but we can still learn a lot from them. Never forget that, -----. If we want a truly perfect society, we'll have to combine the best of all eras. We can't just abandon our history."

"Yes, Lady," i murmured obediently. The nanites told me we already did have a perfect society, but i knew i mustn't contradict my betters.

"And, of course," the Lady went on, "there have been enlightened individuals from the very start of civilization. For instance, have you ever heard of Sappho?"

"No, Lady," i answered, saddened for a moment that i couldn't provide the typical slavish "yes"; but the nanites quickly assured me that many Dominants appreciated the opportunity to instruct. Of course, Lady Marina wasn't a Domme yet and might never become one; she had yet to be tested. But it was my duty as a slave to treat all free citizens as Dominants.

"Sappho was a lesbian poet," Lady Marina told me, "living in a time and place where women had very little freedom or respect. But she carved out a very nice niche for herself in spite of it all. In fact, she's still remembered for her passion and genius today. Here, listen to this. I downloaded it ages ago and still pull it up every now and then, just to revel in the glory of her vision." She lifted her chin and began to recite:

Immortal Aphrodite of the broidered throne, daughter of Zeus, weaver of wiles, I pray thee break not my spirit with anguish and distress, O Queen. But come hither, if ever before thou didst hear my voice afar, and listen, and leaving thy father's golden house camest with chariot yoked, and fair fleet sparrows drew thee, flapping fast their wings around the dark earth, from heaven through mid sky. Quickly arrived they; and thou, blessed one, smiling with immortal countenance, didst ask What now is befallen me, and Why now I call, and What I in my mad heart most desire to see. 'What Beauty now wouldst thou draw to love thee? Who wrongs thee, Sappho? For even if she flies she shall soon follow, and if she rejects gifts shall yet give, and if she loves not shall soon love, however loth.' Come, I pray thee, now too, and release me from cruel cares; and all that my heart desires to accomplish, accomplish thou, and be thyself my ally.

She finished reciting and grinned. "What do you think?"

i bowed my head. "Forgive me, Lady; but as a slave, i am unable to make judgments."

She tossed her raven curls. "Oh, of course," she said airily, her tone telling me plainly that she'd known exactly what i was going to say and had asked me anyway, just to hear me say it.

Once again, my will-lessness had pleased her. i had pleased her. And that pleased me. Moisture coated the black laces dangling between my legs.

"Well then," said Lady Marina, "since you can't form an opinion, I'll form one for you. you love Sappho."

So i did.

i was standing in front of a mirror, admiring my blank, robotic expression and silvery features as the pod had taught me to do, when a chime sounded in my head. my eyes widened as a previously undetected program activated and spun me away from the mirror. All thought of beautiful schoolgirls and sex toys forgotten, i marched with military precision to the Langley Building, where every aspect of my internship was managed.

A nude, middle-aged woman met me at the entrance, the silver caps on her jacks marking her as a lifetime submissive (my own uncapped jacks were a pre-choice white). she said not a word but turned on her heel; and, unbidden, i followed her down unfamiliar hallways to a room filled with upright pods both larger and more sophisticated than any i had seen before. The new directives in my head guided me into the nearest one, and i settled back against the foam as cables snaked out of the walls and buried themselves in my jacks. Remotely, i noticed the lack of a vibrator; then all thought ceased.

Some unknown time later, the pod door opened and i stepped out, pausing a moment to familiarize myself with my new mind and body. It seemed that my final task as an intern required a very different kind of slave than the one i had been for the last six months. As a menial servant and sex toy (The memories still lay within me, though totally devoid of resonance), my skin had been soft, with a silver sheen overlaying my natural pigmentation. Now my skin was cold and hard as steel. my reflexes had been fast before; now they were almost supernaturally so. my thoughts had been vague and pleasure-centered; now they were as tightly focused and clinical as laser beams.

i spared a cursory glance for the sub who had brought me here and who had waited outside my pod while i was remade. she handed me a belt with a stun pistol, and i strapped it on and left her there.

The Dominants who'd engineered my remodeling had not seen fit to fix all the details of my mission in my conscious mind. i knew just enough to lead me forward: since my own internship was drawing to an end, i must find my replacement and assist her into her period of slavery - by force, if necessary. The Dominants had already chosen a target for me, and though i didn't yet know her name, i knew where to find her. my programming led me straight across campus to the Sherrold Music Center.

A crowd of students had gathered in the lobby, and i brushed wordlessly through them, noting their fearful expressions with the first twinge of arousal i'd felt since my reincarnation. Many Dominants enjoyed causing such a reaction in those They ruled. i was pleasing Them by my very presence here.

A stream of piano notes drew me to a practice room down the hall. Pausing in the doorway, i saw a gaggle of unruly schoolgirls gathered around their Dominant teacher, who stood over another girl playing the piano. The program in my head produced a fresh blip of data: this was the girl i had been sent to retrieve. This was my replacement.

The target was beautiful; even in my current emotionless state, i could see that. Her long, wavy black hair was gathered loosely behind her, out of the way of the piano keys. Her eyes were soft with whatever emotion the piece she was playing had evoked in her. Her clear olive skin gleamed in the muted light of the room.

i stepped through the doorway, and at the sight of me, the cluster of students fell back in alarm. The Domme, on the other hand, merely smiled and moved aside, giving me clear access to my target.

The pianist looked up at me with an expression that held so many conflicting emotions, i couldn't begin to interpret them. Not that they mattered in the slightest. "Marina Pereira," i announced, feeling the weight of all Dominance behind my words, "Your time of internship has arrived. Come with me."

The girl leapt up with such force that the bench she had been sitting on tipped over and skittered across the floor. Her eyes blazed. "-----!" she cried, the word slipping through my consciousness like water through a sieve. "How dare they send you to take me! Those - those cunts!"

Her words meant nothing to me. i laid my hand on the grip of the stun pistol as a warning and repeated my official command. "Marina Pereira, your time of internship has arrived. Will you come with me of your own free will, or must i force you?"

A fresh burst of emotions washed across her face. This time i caught glimpses of both pity and amusement, but i had no need to understand what she was feeling, so i didn't try.

"Sorry, sweetie," the girl said, one corner of her lip quirking up, "I'll never go willingly into slavery, least of all at your command. you're going to have to shoot me."

So i did.

i carried my unconscious captive back to the Langley Building, slung over one shoulder like a rag doll. And with my augmented muscles, i felt as though i were carrying a doll - a particularly large doll whose limp hands brushed my buttocks as they swung from side to side. i remembered this girl touching me in such a way before, under very different circumstances, but those memories were meaningless to me now. All my current pleasure derived from the knowledge that i was bringing the Dominants fresh slavemeat.

i carried the girl to Central Intern Processing and, with the aid of another lifetime sub, undressed her and folded her clothes away neatly in a lockbox. Then we took her to a laboratory where three Dommes awaited us, lounging against the walls with arms folded and eyes gleaming. Their ebony jacks stood out proudly against their skin, marking Them as our superiors.

One of the Dominants was the Academy's Headmistress, whom i was not allowed to address by name. The other two were women i'd seen in and around the Langley Building many times. i was not equipped to wonder what They did there.

We laid the unconscious girl on a padded, sectioned table festooned with straps, then stepped back in deference to the Dommes. This was Their moment.

The Headmistress strode forward and, with a look of tremendous satisfaction, strapped Her captive's head firmly to the table and buckled a second band just above her breasts. She gestured, and the other Dommes joined Her at the table. Soon the girl was bound from head to foot.

The Headmistress turned to me. "slave," She commanded, "wake her up."

i bowed in the traditional manner, then pulled the stun pistol from its holster. It had two settings. i'd used the red button to incapacitate my target back at the Music Center; now i used the green button to reverse the effect.

The girl came to with a gasp and a shudder, her eyes darting around the room as she tried futilely to turn her head and see us all. At last her gaze settled angrily on the Headmistress. "So this is it," she said. "This is where you take your best shot at turning me into a lifetime sub. And you've even roped ----- into your scheme just to make the bait a little sweeter. Well, tough fucking luck. I don't swing that way."

The Headmistress very nearly smiled. "Surely you don't think you can hold out against Our brainwashing? I've transformed stronger girls than you into model slaves."

The captive grimaced. "No. I'm no idiot. I know you're going to turn me into a meek little sexbot, at least for a few months. But then I'll be free again; and once I am, I'll never look back. You'll see. I'm going to be like you, only better."

The Headmistress' eyebrows rose in amusement. "Better?"

"Yes," said the girl, looking directly at me. "Better."

There was a long moment of silence. Then she shrugged as best she could within her bonds. "All right, let's get this over with. Don't wait for me to cry and beg, or we'll be here till graduation."

The Headmistress' lips pursed with what might have been approval. "Very well, then." She swept up a tube running from the machine behind the girl's head and snapped it smartly into her bio-jack. "First We'll take your will, and then We'll remake what's left of you. Trust Me: you'll thank Us for it later."

The captive's eyes locked onto mine as the Headmistress flicked a switch and a clear liquid snaked up the tube.

"Watch closely, slave," the Headmistress told me as the slave-to-be groaned once, softly. "you'll see how even the strongest will can be broken."

The girl's eyelids fluttered, and then, all at once, her pupils dilated to twice their usual size. She grimaced, concentrating, and her irises reasserted themselves.

"I love it when they struggle," said one of the other Dommes. She stroked the captive's breast.

Still grimacing, the girl rolled her eyes briefly upwards, and when they came down again, her pupils were larger than ever.

"Go on, little Marina," the Headmistress whispered. "Do your best. It's useless, but do it anyway."

The captive's eyes, pupils spreading by the second, rolled toward the Headmistress with a look of dazed hatred. "Go fuck yourself," she slurred.

Then her irises quivered again and shrank suddenly to invisibility. Her eyes, now totally unfocused, were little more than glazed black marbles. Her tense body relaxed, inch by inch, until she seemed ready to melt into the table.

The Domme who hadn't spoken yet snickered softly.

"And that's that," The Headmistress said. "So much bravado - and all for what?" She unstrapped one of the girl's arms and waved it at me, the limp hand flopping uselessly on its wrist. "Everyone succumbs in the end. But remember this, slave: you played a part in Marina's downfall, and you'll have more to do with it yet." White teeth shone behind Her ruby lips. "Oh, so much more."

my steel-shrouded clit thrummed at the thought.

The Headmistress picked up a cable running from the brainwashing machine and clicked it into the girl's tech-jack, then flicked another switch. The bound body shuddered for several seconds before it began to change. Then a pearly silver sheen welled up through her pores, spreading quickly from limb to limb.

"Watch her eyes," the Headmistresses commanded me, and i obeyed. For a moment, the glistening marbles remained as they had been, aimed vacantly at the ceiling. The girl's sclera shone bright against the darkness they surrounded. Then suddenly, as if a switch had been thrown, both black and white together snapped into to silver. The marbles had become ball bearings.

"you see, slave," the Headmistress told me, "if Our interns went outdoors with pupils so widely dilated, they'd permanently damage their retinas. The polarized nanites We use on their eyes are as much a matter of protection as aesthetics."

i had no idea why She cared so much that a nonentity like me understand the enslavement process. i felt both honored and unworthy of the attention, and bowed in wordless abasement.

"Now it's your turn again," the Headmistress smiled at me. "Initiate Phase Three programming."

my inner world shifted instantly. my thoughts were still cold and focused, but now the memories and abilities of my Phase One slavery flowed back into prominence. i was a sex toy once more, but of a very different kind than i had been. New purpose gleamed in my brain.

Marching back to the foot of the table, i unhooked the fastenings beneath it and spread apart the sections that pinned the new slave's lower body. With a few adjustments, i had her legs bent and spread to give me total access to her vulva.

The Headmistress flicked another switch on the brainwashing machine, sending a different breed of nanites and chemicals coursing through the girl's body. she moaned and squirmed within her bonds.

"Begin," the Headmistress commanded me.

i pulled a low stool from beneath the table and adjusted its height. Then i knelt and breathed in the familiar scent of wet pussy. i had pleasured this girl a thousand times before, knew every bump and fold of her most intimate anatomy, knew what left her cold and what set her shrieking. Once upon a time, i had made love to her with a slave's desire to please and obey a superior. Now, i took all i had learned servicing that superior and used it to degrade her into a mindless slave like myself. i was just the second of two brainwashing machines in the room, and we each fulfilled our programming with mechanical efficiency.

The new slave climaxed quickly, screaming her submission at the top of her nanite-filled lungs.

i continued to kneel on the stool, my face slick from nose to chin, until the Headmistress gave me permission to rise. "Well done, slave," She purred, and i shuddered with pleasure at Her approval. "Now, as a final gift to mark the end of your internship, I will show you what you've helped Us accomplish."

The new slave lay quietly as the Headmistress unstrapped her bonds, only shivering when the Dominant's hands brushed her pointed silver nipples or engorged clit. Last to be released were her two jacks, their whiteness seeming out of place now against her silvery skin.

"Off the table, slave," the Headmistress commanded; and she climbed down, then placed her hands to her forehead, palms out, and spread them with a bow.

"How may i please You, Headmistress?" she asked in a dull, soft voice.

The Headmistress undid the zipper that ran from the neck of Her catsuit down across Her crotch and up again in back. "you know exactly how to please Me." She smiled, then turned Her eyes to me. "As for you, watch closely. I want this memory burned into your brain."

i stood quietly as the Lady whom i had served more than any other, who had haunted my nightly programming and set my clit on fire with her merest glance, knelt at the Headmistress' feet and ravished Her cunt like the fuck toy i'd help her become. When the Dominant finally climaxed, so did i.

I lay quietly in the deprogramming pod as the nanites and chemicals leached from my body and selfhood slowly returned. It felt like waking from a months-long sleep with dreams so vivid they could almost have passed for reality. Almost.

But I wasn't really a mindless slave. I'd enjoyed playing one for awhile, but I was a real person with thoughts and feelings and - and rights. I didn't have to fuck every girl who spread her legs for me, and I certainly didn't have to put up with the kind of physical abuse I'd taken from some of them. Oh, the programming pod had done a great job of convincing me I loved it, at the time. But now that I had my mind back, I saw quite clearly that that was a crock of shit. The maid thing was pretty asinine, too.

What I'd done with Marina, on the other hand....Those scenes glowed in my mind like treasures. Marina the tease. Marina the shrieker. Marina the classicist. Marina the casually confident, effortlessly elegant maybe-Domme-to-be who never abused me and who wanted me around even when she wasn't in the mood for sex.

Marina whom I'd betrayed.

Guilt lanced my gut and I doubled over. My head banged against the pod door and forced it open.

The lifetime sub who'd kept watch over my recovery peered inside, an expression of what might have been genuine concern on her silvery face. She wasn't as deep as I had been. "Are you ill?" she asked. "Do you need medical attention?"

I sat up and shook my head, then hugged my arms tight around my crawling stomach. Marina herself had said it: those cunts. They'd chosen her deliberately to be my target because they'd sensed the bond between us, and it pleased them to see it broken. The Headmistress had even told me she wanted that final memory burned into my brain - and it was. I remembered my steel-plated climax at seeing what I'd helped accomplish; and even though I knew they'd made me love it, I still hated myself - and them - for the whole sickening scene.

I tried to tell myself I'd had no choice; and really, I hadn't. But that didn't make the load any easier to bear. I'd betrayed the girl I - I gasped as the realization hit me - the girl I loved.

Maybe the feeling was just some programming residue that hadn't been flushed from my system yet, but I didn't think so. I remembered Marina now, remembered admiring her from afar for at least the past four years. I'd even found the opportunity to speak with her a few times, though I'd never managed much more than a red-faced mumble.

She'd remembered me, though; she'd said so the first time I came to her as a slave. And then she'd called me back again and again - until even the Dommes who ran the Academy had noticed her attention to me and turned it against her.

My still-fragile mind spun wildly. Had Marina felt the same for me as I did for her? And if she had, would she still feel that way when her internship was over? She might come out hating me for the part I'd played in enslaving her; or worse yet, she might come out loving slavery. I closed my eyes with a sigh. Oh, Marina, I'm so, so sorry for what I did to you.

Oblivious to my pain, the nurse laid a scanner against my forehead and various other body parts, checking my vital signs and the levels of foreign substances in my bloodstream. "How do you feel?" she asked. "Are you well enough to stand?"

I nodded, and she unlatched one wall of the pod and pulled it down. Steps sprang up from the smooth metal, and I crawled gingerly out. My jacks were still plugged in, and the brush of tube and cable against my shoulders gave me a pleasant shudder. I'd enjoyed the sensations they'd fed me so very much. Even now, thinking of how my mind had been paralyzed and manipulated night after night didn't horrify me in the slightest; to be honest, it still made me horny.

Before my internship, I'd anticipated my stint of slavery with a mixture of dread and curiosity. I didn't know, then, whether I had it in me to be a lifetime sub; though Dominance had always been out of the question (Hell, my interactions - or lack thereof - with Marina had proved that better than anything). But I had really loved being controlled, and I didn't think it was just because I'd been made to. After all, my delight in masochism and menial labor had evaporated the moment I regained my mind; but the thought of giving it up again - under the right circumstances, anyway - set my de-silvered clit abuzz.

Plenty of teens, I knew, chose the silver jacks upon graduation through simple default: they weren't strong enough to survive the carnivorous world of the Dominants and knew they'd be a lot happier as subs than as deviants. I, on the other hand...I thought back to the hours of orgasmic mindlessness in the programming pod, the joyful release I felt in surrendering every scrap of selfhood to a machine that wanted to make me just like it. My cunt grew damp all over again.

Suddenly I knew: slavery wasn't the default option for me; it was my calling. I felt the decision settle itself in my mind like an old dog in a familiar bed. Yes, this was right; this was me. I really was a slave, down to my tiny silver core.

The only problem was that I wasn't just anyone's slave; I was Marina's. But I forced my thoughts off that track before the guilt could crush me again. After all, this was my first hour of freedom in half a year. I had my mind back, and I'd found my calling. I should be rejoicing, not crying.

I looked to the nurse, who observed me with stiff detachment now that she knew I was all right. she launched into what I assumed was her standard deprogramming spiel. "i must make certain you are fully recovered before i release you," she said. "What is your name?"

"Karen Eriksson," I answered, surprised by the tone of my voice. It had sounded so different when I was a slave. So...spineless.

"When were you born?"

"June 16, 2841." Hey, I liked the sound of my voice.

"What is your favorite color?"

"Green."

"Get on your knees and fuck me now."

"Like hell," I snorted, then laughed as I realized she was still testing me.

I was myself again - for awhile, anyway.

It didn't take me long to find marina. Chessie Hutchinson was parading her around campus on the end of a leash; and from the look on my chosen Domme's face, she was loving every submissive second of it. Something crumpled inside me, but I did my best to ignore it.

I had never made use of an Academy slave before, but I understood the process. I walked up to the two of them, doing my best to keep my gaze focused on the free girl rather than the bound one. They both stopped, marina standing several paces behind Chessie, head bowed, hands locked behind her in a way designed to display her nudity to maximum effect. I knew the pose well.

"Hey, Chessie," I said, as casually as I could. "Has anyone called dibs on marina after you?"

The schoolgirl smirked. "Looking for a bit of revenge, eh, Karen?" She laid a finger under marina's chin and tipped her head up, forcing her eyes to meet mine. I saw nothing there but my own reflection. "I've never seen anyone as hung up on one particular slave as Marina was on you. She had you servicing her practically every day, didn't she?"

I blushed and hung my head, not knowing what to say. Chessie was one of a common breed at the Academy: a wannabe-Domme who tried to prove her worth by bossing around (and sometimes actively abusing) the girls who demonstrated submissiveness early on. Girls like Chessie were particularly harsh on slaves, as I'd learned from firsthand experience. My only consolation was knowing that her type tended to break completely under internship and come out begging for permanent surrender.

I wasn't about to tell Chessie what I really wanted with marina. I reined in my emotions and lifted my eyes to meet hers. "Something like that," I said coolly. "When can I have her?"

"You'll have to get in line." Chessie playfully twirled her slave's chain. "Little Lady Marina's been a bit too uppity for her own good. Now that she's been put in her place, everyone wants a piece of her. How many do you have lined up so far, slave?"

"Four besides you, Lady," marina murmured. her voice sounded even duller than I remembered mine being; but at the same time, it bore a hint of pride that shook me to my core. Marina was no mere wannabe like Chessie; or at least, I hadn't thought she was. So why was she so pleased that so many people wanted to abuse her? Did she think that meant she was a perfect slave? Was that what she wanted to be?

I stilled my face with an effort. "I'm number five," I told her. "Come to me the moment you finish with number four, okay?"

The moment the word left my mouth, I knew I'd made a mistake. Okay?! As if marina had a choice! It was just that I was so used to her making all the decisions. That was how I wanted it to be.

I stalked off before I could betray myself again.

A soft knock came at my door, and I knew right away that it must be marina. No one but a slave announced herself with such deference. I pulled the cable out of my tech-jack, cutting off the Sappho download mid-feed. "Come in," I said, stomach fluttering even before the door could open.

marina entered and bowed, palms spreading wide from her forehead in the traditional gesture. "How may i please you, my Lady?"

It had been two days since I'd found my beloved at the end of Chessie's leash. There was no telling what had happened to her since then; any wounds would have healed already, and her programming would forbid her from revealing what had been done to her in private. Still, I couldn't help searching for any signs of abuse - or pleasure - in the silver-soft features of the girl I wanted to serve forever.

marina's shoulders were stooped with humility, and her face held a sort of post-orgasmic slackness that told me just how fully she was getting into her role. My stomach twisted. She looked like i'd felt, and I knew how my internship had turned out.

Marina had declared, back in the brainwashing lab, that once she'd done her six months, she'd never look back. I tried to reassure myself with her prediction, but she just looked so...content...as a slave. Was she really as strong as I'd thought, or was I chasing after a fantasy?

"Marina," I said helplessly, and could say no more.

The slave blinked. "my apologies, Lady, but i was unable to process that."

I shook my head. "I'm sorry," I told her. "I know you can't hear your name right now."

"Please don't apologize, Lady," she smiled. "slaves don't deserve apologies."

"You do," I said firmly. "And I owe you a huge one. But you don't even remember, do you?"

"Remember what?" her face was blissfully blank.

"I did this to you," I gestured, feeling my eyes prick with tears. "You were going to be a Dominant, and I turned you into a happy little...nothing."

The silver girl looked troubled. "Again, Lady, my deepest apologies. i want nothing more than to please you, but the nanites in my brain will not allow me to comprehend your statements."

she paused, and then her face cleared. "Perhaps i may please you without words?" Closing the door behind her, she stepped deeper into the room. her hips swayed with calculated seduction. When I made no move to rise from the bed, she knelt beside me and laid a cool hand at the top of my thigh.

I'd had two days to think about what I would say and do when I finally got marina alone, but it had all evaporated the moment she stepped through my door. I glanced helplessly around the room, seeking inspiration in the racks of hardware and software, the posters of sports stars and celebrities (all female), my stuffed turtle collection. None of them were any help at all.

But my cunt had moistened at her touch, just like always. Maybe all I needed was to let my body lead the way, as my programming had done before. Maybe then, somehow, I could still reach the girl I loved. I bent down and cupped her soft face in my hands, then pulled her toward me and kissed her long and deeply.

marina responded just as a slave should, climbing up onto the bed and pressing her nude body against my clothed one.

I wanted her to rip off my garments one ragged piece at a time and ravish me senseless, but I knew better than to expect that. A submissive couldn't even lift her Lady's blouse without permission. I choked back a groan of frustration. I wasn't supposed to be the Dominant here! I wasn't made for it!

Instinctively my hand slid down marina's belly, across her depilated pubis, and into her slick, sweet snatch. she shuddered but looked mildly disturbed.

"Lady?" she asked timidly. "Wouldn't you like me to please you?"

"No," I husked, closing my eyes so I wouldn't have to see the look on her face. I couldn't ignore her enslavement, but I'd be damned if that would stop me from trying. "I want to please you. That's what I want. If you want to please me, then you have to let me please you."

"As you wish, my Lady."

she rolled over and pulled me on top of her, but I shifted to put us side-by-side. "I've never been the one on top," I told her, grieving inwardly that I had to tell my former Domme what she'd once accepted as natural. "I don't want to be on top. Ever."

"As you wish, my Lady."

marina arced her body into mine as I dug deeper, missing my slave-enhanced reflexes but knowing she couldn't tell the difference. As long as I was happy, marina would be happy. The thought both relieved and sickened me.

I pumped as fast as I could, all the while twining my tongue with hers in the deepest, truest soul kiss I could muster. marina began to moan and squirm, drawing a whine from me. Sensing my growing arousal and knowing now what would please me, she began to thrash harder, her innermost muscles fluttering around my fingers.

I groaned again and pulled her even closer.

A noise built in her throat, rising slowly and steadily. "That's right," I muttered, untwining my tongue from hers just long enough to urge her on, "That's right, Marina, come on. I want to make you come."

I was about to thrust my tongue back into her mouth when she began to shriek. That old, familiar sound brought me to climax, and together we thrust and bucked until we nearly fell off the bed.

At last I dropped back, laughing. If only for a moment, I'd had my Lady back.

I lay there in the dimming light, my eyes traveling up and down the body I loved so well. The silver skin should have been mine, not marina's; but in the afterglow of orgasm, her relaxed curves were the same as they'd always been. "Marina?"

Silver eyes mirrored my own. "Forgive me, Lady, but i am unable to process that word."

Our lovemaking had changed something in me. I felt stronger now, somehow. More assertive. "I don't care," I told her. "I'm going to call you by your name whether you can hear it or not. You are Marina, and you always will be. To me."

"As you wish, my Lady."

"Marina," I said again, and she looked at me expectantly. "Don't get too used to slavery. You're not a slave."

"my humblest apologies, Lady, but i am still unable to process your words."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Okay, I'll try again. I'm the slave in our relationship."

"i believe i understood part of that, Lady. You want to be a slave; is that right?"

Relief flooded through me. "That's exactly right, Marina. I want to be a slave, and I want you to be my Domme."

she smiled sweetly. "Now i understand perfectly. Nothing could be better than freedom from all doubt and fear, all responsibility, all imperfection. slavery is ecstasy."

My heart quickened. That was it; that was exactly what I wanted. I hated to hear it from her, but maybe if she understood, she could give it to me.

But then marina went on. "However, during my internship, i am not permitted even to pretend to be a Dominant. If i choose a lifetime of submission, then a Dominant may order me to play such a role from time to time. But for now, i must learn the joy of submission."

I groaned, letting my head flop back against the pillow.

Then the gears began to turn. "But you were able to please me by letting me please you first."

"Yes, Lady, i can do that much as long as i am not required to be more forceful. i cannot control you in any way."

"Okay," I sighed. I wanted so much more from her; and maybe, one day - no, I was better off not even thinking about that. I just had to settle for whatever I could get right now and forget about the future. "That's how we'll play it, then," I told her. "Every chance we get. I want you to come see me every time you have a gap in your schedule. Every single time. Okay?"

"As you wish, my Lady."

she rose up on one elbow, looking down on me with her hair spilling across her face, half-hiding her silver slave eyes. "And now, i am afraid that i must go. It is time for my nightly programming. Good-bye, my Lady."

she bent to kiss me before she left.

"Yes, Karen," said Ms. Carruthers, leaning forward and crossing her arms on her desktop. "I understand perfectly."

As the Academy's guidance counselor, Ms. Carruthers was living proof that a submissive could maintain a certain degree of independence, could command respect from non-slaves, could even rise to a position of moderate power within an organization. And no doubt she'd been placed at the Academy for precisely that reason. A sub of her stripe could tip the scales of many a waverer toward the silver jack caps. Oh, she feigned impartiality, of course, but I knew she bowed to the will of the Dominants as much as any other sub. And the will of the Dominants was for more slaves.

If I'd been a waverer myself, I wouldn't have trusted Ms. Carruthers with my middle name, much less the most important decision of my life. But she was a sub, I wanted to be a sub, and she was the only one I could turn to who might possibly understand my pain. I had to be careful, though. These counseling sessions were supposed to be confidential, but I had no doubt that a little Dominant pressure could squeeze my every confession from her.

Despite being perfectly reflective, Ms. Carruthers' eyes conveyed more depth and sympathy than I'd seen in many a free girl or woman. Of course, I might have been projecting what I wanted to see there, but I hoped I wasn't. I really needed someone to trust. Maybe that was just part of my submissive nature.

"It's not unheard-of," the guidance counselor said, "for a sub-to-be to genuinely fall for one of the girls she served as an intern; and Miss Pereira's personality profile matches up with yours quite well. You don't like sadism; she wasn't sadistic. You want to be appreciated as a person; she genuinely seemed to like you. You want to be controlled; she enjoyed controlling you."

She smiled wistfully. "It happens, on occasion, that a Dominant-to-be and a submissive-to-be will form a true romantic bond. Of course, more often than not, the feelings flow more strongly in one direction than the other. If it's the Dominant who loves the submissive, well, that's easy enough; once the two are confirmed in their choices, the Dominant simply acquires the submissive and reprograms her to love Her back."

She gave me a rueful look. "It's a bit more difficult, though, when love runs the other way around. And it usually does. We subs are more vulnerable, by our very natures. We fall in love more easily, yet have more difficulty in expressing that love. And what recourse do we have if our love is spurned?"

Damn. I'd come to her for help, and all she'd done so far was make me feel more helpless. I squirmed in my seat.

"What I'm most afraid of," I admitted, knowing it was a mistake yet suddenly unable to stop myself, "is that once Marina completes her internship, she'll decide she likes being a sub. I'd be torn to shreds if she came out hating me for the part I played in enslaving her; but that would still be better than seeing such a beautiful, confident perfect Domme give up all that perfection for a lifetime of slavery." Ohh, the Dommes would be tickled to death if they ever found out about this. I just had to hope they wouldn't.

Ms. Carruthers tipped her head. "Of course," she demurred, "slavery is its own form of perfection."

That was definitely the Dominants talking through her. My stomach dropped, but I clung to my hope of confidentiality like a shipwreck victim to a wooden plank. I had to talk to someone, and there just wasn't anyone else.

I brushed off the propaganda with a sneer and plunged recklessly onward. "You know what I mean. There are two kinds of perfection; slavery is one, and Marina is the other. At least--" I found myself hunching as the sudden spark of passion flared out-- "I thought she was. I hope she is."

I looked up pleadingly from my crouch. "You've seen Marina's psych profile; what do you think? Will she come out of her internship as a Domme or a sub?"

Ms. Carruthers leaned back and crossed her legs primly. "Karen, you know I can't reveal confidential student information."

"But you can tell me that much, at least, can't you? One sub to another?" It was a pathetic bid, but I could hardly be more pathetic than I had been already; and besides, it was the only bid I had.

The guidance counselor leaned forward again. "I understand what you're going through, Karen; really, I do. But even if I was allowed to share Miss Pereira's psych profile with you, it still wouldn't be enough for either of us to predict her decision. I've seen girls with off-the-chart Dominance ratings go on to become lifetime subs, and vice versa."

My stomach dropped even further. "And what about me?" I asked uneasily. "Was I one of those unpredictable ones, or did you all know I'd choose slavery before I did?"

Ms. Carruthers smiled. "You? You were...somewhat tricky. Lots of intelligence, a broad streak of stubbornness - and yet an unmistakable yearning to be led rather than to lead."

My lips quirked. "I was just looking for the right leader."

Her smile faded, but her expression remained tender. "I hope you've found Her."

Marina's dorm room had been locked by the Administration for the duration of her internship, so I had no access to her wardrobe full of fine fetish clothing. But I did have access to a fairly substantial bank account; only the wealthiest of families could afford to send their daughters to the Academy, and my mothers were more generous than most when it came to allowances. They might have thought twice, though, if they'd known how I was spending their money.

I lay spread across my couch in a corset so tight each breath reminded me of my beautiful days of bondage. It was similar in style to those Marina had had me wear, but not identical to any of them. I hoped I'd picked something new that she'd enjoy seeing me in again...afterward.

I'd chosen her gown with the same thought in mind, and though I had no stiff-backed chair, I had propped her up on my bed with a mass of colorful pillows, posing her to look as Dominant as her nanites would allow. I was starting to find the loopholes in her programming now, and exploiting them to the fullest.

"When I was an intern," I told her, "my favorite Lady introduced me to the work of an ancient Greek poetess named Sappho. She told me to love it, and I did, because I had no choice. But guess what? Now that I'm free again, I still love it. Here, let me give you a taste of one of my favorites. Once your internship is over, you'll understand why it means so much to me." I cleared my throat and began to recite.

A troop of horses, the serried ranks of marchers,

A noble fleet - some think these of all on earth

Most beautiful. For me naught else regarding

Is my beloved.

To understand this is for all most simple,

For thus gazing much on mortal perfection

And knowing already what life could give her,

Him chose fair Helen,

Him the betrayer of Ilium's honour.

Then recked she not of adored child or parent,

But yielded to love, and forced by her passion,

Dared Fate in exile.

Thus quickly is bent the will of that woman

To whom things near and dear seem to be nothing.

So mightest thou fail, My Anactoria,

If she were with you.

She whose gentle footfall and radiant face

Hold the power to charm more than a vision

Of chariots and the mail-clad battalions

Of Lydia's army.

So must we learn in world made as this one

Man can never attain his greatest desire,

But must pray for what good fortune Fate holdeth,

Never unmindful.

I sighed. "Oh, Marina, if you only knew the lengths I'd go to for you."

Ms. Carruthers looked worried. "Believe me, Karen, I understand how you feel; but you really need to give this a bit more thought."

"Oh, I've given it plenty of thought," I answered flatly. "It's Marina or no one for me."

The guidance counselor leavened her worry, as best she could, with a touch of compassion. "I know how you feel. She's your first love, and right now you just can't imagine ever feeling the same about anyone else."

"Not of my own free will, anyway. I know any Dominant on the planet could program me to be head over heels in love with Her or Him, but it wouldn't be the same."

"You'd be surprised."

Her sly look told me everything I needed to know. I felt slightly nauseous. I'd suspected, after our first session, that she'd been speaking from personal experience when she talked about subs falling in love with Dominants and being rejected. Now I was sure of it. Just as I was sure that she'd been flushed of those first, true feelings of love and implanted with false new ones. And now she couldn't even tell the difference.

That was very definitely not the path for me. I wanted to be a sub, knew I was a sub, couldn't imagine ever living happily as anything other than a sub. But I also couldn't imagine myself subbing for anyone other than Marina. I loved her; and the more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that she loved me, too. Why else would she have recited that particular poem to me? I'd tried to respond in kind, but would she ever understand? Would she ever care?

I had just told Ms. Carruthers that if I couldn't have Marina as my Domme, I'd live the rest of my life as a deviant. Let the Headmistress chew on that, if she were spying on our conversations. Having a prize student like me graduate by opting out of the system would be a huge black mark on the Academy. Ohh, and I'd make the most of it. It would be payback for what she'd done to Marina and me.

Just for a moment, I knew the pleasure of power.

Ms. Carruthers tried a new tack. "You know, Karen, there are hundreds of different forms of submission available. You don't have to be a sex slave. As a matter of fact, I'd consider that a waste of your intellect anyway. Why not pick a profession where you could use your natural abilities and submit only as an employee to her superiors?"

That was the Dominants talking through her again. The problem was, part of me was attracted by the idea. I really didn't want to be turned into a mindless sex toy, not even for Marina. But Marina wouldn't want that of me, anyway. She'd talked to me, even when I was too mindwiped to respond with more than a simple, "Yes, Lady," or "No, Lady." Now that I'd had the experience of trying to make conversation with her in that state, I had an idea of what she might have been holding back.

And so we had returned to square one.

I shook my head. "Nope, it's Marina or nothing for me."

Ms. Carruthers' silver eyes somehow managed to pierce me to my core. "There will be other loves, you know. Karen, please don't destroy your life over this one girl."

I thought back to another of the classics Marina had shared with me. "Just call me Juliet," I said.

I left here there, frowning.

"i'm sorry, Lady Chessie! i promise i'll try harder!"

The slavish voice wavered across the quad, combining terror and ecstasy in the way that only a slave's voice could. It took me a second to recognize the voice as marina's. I set off at a run.

Chessie had been spending nearly as much time with marina as I had, and the public tableaux she staged for the two of them had grown ever more elaborate. Here, at the tail end of marina's internship, she seemed more determined than ever to prove her dominance once and for all.

A crowd was already gathering as I approached, and it took some effort to force my way to the front. marina lay hunched on the ground, her back a welter of slowly closing red stripes. Where Chessie hadn't whipped her, she'd used some sort of blade to cut words into marina's skin. "Slut" and "whore" adorned her arms, "cunt sucker" and "fuck toy" her legs, and "Property of Chessie Hutchinson" her buttocks. Across her forehead was written, simply, "mindless."

marina's would-be Domme stood over her, high-booted legs spread wide, an Academy-approved lash gripped tight in one hand. She grinned ferociously. "Again, slave. Like you mean it this time."

marina crawled painfully across the short distance to Chessie's boots, then began to lavish them with licks and kisses, all the while murmuring, "i love you, Lady Chessie. You're the best Mistress i've ever had, the only Mistress i'll ever need. i want to be your mindless little fuck toy forever. i was born to be a slave, and you were born to be my Mistress."

My heart shattered into a million bloody silver shards. It was all I could do not to double over from the pain. A small groan escaped my lips, and the nearest girls shot me sideways glances before returning their attention to the scene that held us all spellbound.

Chessie wasn't done humiliating my beloved just yet. "Not good enough," she pronounced, even as marina continued to fawn over her boot tips. "I don't think you've learned your lesson to your core." She underscored the final word with a fresh snap of the lash. marina cringed under the blow; but she moaned, too, and not with pain. I remembered moaning like that, myself, when i'd been a slave.

"I think you need more training," Chessie snarled, ripping into marina's back again. "I think you need to go deeper--"

Almost of its own accord, my hand shot out, gripping the lash just above Chessie's fist and ripping it from her surprised hand.

She gaped at me in almost comical disbelief. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, Karen? This is my slave. You can have your turn later."

A pitch-black mix of hate and anger welled up inside me, engulfing the silver shards and flowing on up my throat and out my mouth. "Marina is not your slave," I hissed, gripping the lash even tighter than Chessie had. "She never was, and she never will be. She's the kind of Domme you only dream of being. That's why you're taking out your feelings of inadequacy on her now, because you know that once she's free and you're the one with the nanites in your head, you'll be sucking her clit like a baby at the bottle. If she lets you." I felt my lips spread in a sharklike smile. "And then, when you're free again, you'll be begging to go right back under."

Chessie's face reddened, and she made a grab for the lash. I stepped back just in time. "Fuck you, Karen. You took to slavery better than any girl I've ever seen. You're the one who's begging to back under, aren't you?" She glanced down at marina, and her eyes widened in sudden understanding. "Oh, and she's supposed to be your lifetime Domme, is that it?" She burst into uproarious laughter. "This--" she aimed a kick at marina's ribs, and I wasn't quick enough to stop her-- "is what you want to submit to for the rest of your life?"

I felt my own cheeks redden, even as the hand with the lash snapped toward Chessie's face. She caught my fist and held it, seemingly with little effort. "Face it, chicklet," she sneered. "You're just one puny sub lusting after another puny sub. You're both helpless when a real Domme comes along."

I swung out with my other fist, this time connecting with Chessie's cheek. Her head rocked back, but she recovered quickly and grinned at me, even as I struggled not to wring my aching hand in front of her. I've never hit anyone before. Was it supposed to hurt like this?

"Anyway," Chessie said breezily, retrieving the lash with ease, now that I was distracted, "you know the rules as well as I do. marina's mine for another three hours, and I have the right to do whatever I damn well want with her, as long as I don't leave any permanent marks." She pointed the lash at me. "Try to stop me again, and I'll tell the Headmistress you're interfering with the internship process. You think you're hurting now?"

I stood stiffly, wordlessly, as she turned back to marina with mock concern. "Poor little slavegirl. I'm sorry you had to witness that. It just takes some people longer than others to learn their true place in life. But you know yours, don't you?"

"Yes, Lady," marina murmured. I don't think she'd looked up from Chessie's boots once since the confrontation began. "i was born to be a slave, and you were born to be my Mistress."

"That's my little fuck toy." Chessie rapped the top of marina's head with her lash. "Come on, let's finish the rest of your training in private. I'll walk; you crawl."

"As you wish, my Lady."

I bowed my head so I wouldn't have to see marina's bloody back retreating from me.

The sinking moon has left the sky,

The Pleiades have also gone.

Midnight comes--and goes, the hours fly

And solitary still, I lie.

I lay in bed, eyes wide open, unable to sleep. It was past midnight, and Sappho's lament filled my head as completely as any programmed mantra.

I hadn't actually seen it happen, but the word had gone out around campus: marina had taken her replacement and was being deprogrammed even now. If there had been any justice in the world, her victim would have been Chessie; but apparently it was just some anonymous girl whose name I barely recognized. Poor thing - or lucky thing, depending on your point of view.

I'd grilled the nurses at the Langley Building, and subs that they were, they couldn't deny my request for information. Marina would be free again somewhere around 7:00 tomorrow morning. Then I'd know. No more hoping, no more worrying. I'd know.

I was scared out of my mind.

The look on marina's face as Chessie had led her off worried me more than anything else she'd said or done during her entire six months of internship. I had to face facts: she loved slavery, at least right now, and she might always love slavery.

So where did that leave me?

There were whispers, faint but audible, that deviant society wasn't quite the pit of blight and misery I'd been led to believe. Of course, it was hard to know the truth when all communication from Australia was officially blacked out and my main source of information was the ruling Dominants. But I was a top level student in all my courses, and cyberfare was by far my best subject. I knew how to slip through the tiniest cracks in the web, and how to slip out again without leaving a trace. I'd found rumors, little more than digital graffiti posted in the dead of night and erased by morning, that gave me reason to hope. Deviant society seemed to have its own rules, its own culture, even its own kind of happiness. I might actually be able to lead a decent life there.

Not that it would measure up to the life I could have with Marina.

The night lasted for years, but at last the sky outside my window began to lighten. I got up, showered, dressed, and made myself up quickly but with care; I wanted Marina to see me at my very best.

I skipped breakfast, and it was a good thing, too; a crowd had already begun to gather at the Langley Building before I got there. Marina had been well known (and envied) around campus for years, and her humiliations as a slave had been both more severe and more public than was usual even for our vicious microcosm; but I'd had no idea so many people would be interested in the outcome of her internship. Chessie was there, as were a number of others who'd abused both marina and me during our internships. Several girls I suspected to be closet subs were there, too. I wanted to run the whole lot of them off with a lash and a cry of, "She's mine, dammit! Leave her alone!"

But of course, she wasn't mine. And I only wanted to be hers.

The sky lightened and the minutes ticked by. Arms folded, heads tossed, feet shifted. I chewed my lip, then worried about lipstick on my teeth. Before long I found myself, half unconsciously, edging backwards through the crowd.

It was well past 7:00 now. What was taking so long? Were they having problems deprogramming her? Oh, shit, what if they couldn't get the nanites out? What if the chemicals had permanently fried her brain? I wrapped my arms tight around my churning stomach but kept my eyes locked on the door.

At last it opened.

Marina stepped out, frowning a bit as her eyes adjusted to the outdoor light. She was dressed in the same clothes she'd been wearing when i took her, but her hair was unbound now and waved gently in the breeze generated by the opening door.

Chessie stepped out from the crowd, hands on hips, feet spread wide. I couldn't see her face from behind, but I noted the slight hunch to her shoulders and imagined her not quite managing to hide the worry behind her bravado.

Marina's eyes tracked across us all from left to right. They lit for just a moment on Chessie, and her lip curled in amused disdain. Then her gaze passed on, dismissing her humiliator without a word or a thought.

I grinned and squeezed my hands together to keep from pumping both fists in the air. This was the Marina I remembered. She hadn't been broken by slavery after all. Hell, she hadn't even been bent.

Marina continued to scan the crowd, searching for - for - her eyes met mine and grew wide with delight. Me? She'd been searching for me? My entire being melted and swirled down the drain of my spasming cunt. I had to grab the shoulder of the girl nearest me to keep from falling over.

My Lady smiled broadly and stepped into the crowd, which parted wavelike before her. Hands outstretched like a beneficent Aphrodite, she came to me and took me in her arms, then kissed me long and deep. I collapsed completely into her grip, knowing she could hold me. Forever.

Much later, we lay entwined beneath the silken sheets of Marina's bed, brown eyes facing blue: equal, for the moment.

"I know what you were trying to do," Marina told me, tapping my nose with gentle affection, "calling me by my name even when I couldn't hear you, making sure I always came before you did, posing me like a Domme and telling me I was one when all I could think of was the ecstasy of submission." She grinned. "You didn't want me to get too used to the idea of slavery. You wanted to make sure I came out of internship a Domme and not a sub."

I shrugged and grinned bashfully. "Did it help at all?"

Marina gave me her old, familiar fingertip-to-lips gesture. "Which would you prefer to hear, that you helped save your Domme from a lifetime of slavery, or that she was strong enough to save herself?"

I considered, then considered some more. "I really don't know," I admitted at last.

Marina's smile grew sly. "Good. Then there's no reason to spoil the mystery."

My pussy fluttered pleasantly and I embraced her, snuggling my head between her breasts. "As you wish, my Lady."

She caressed my hair as though petting it. "So you really want to submit to me forever? Be my slave for the rest of your life?"

I looked up into her eyes again. "I wouldn't do it for anyone else; but for you, I'd surrender completely. I do surrender completely. I'm yours, Marina, body and mind."

She closed her eyes and smiled, breathing deeply of her kind of ecstasy. When she looked at me again, her expression was both kind and stern. "I've always dreamed of having a slave just like you, Karen. You have no idea what a precious catch you are. Don't worry; I'll take proper care of you."

Graduation came, and Marina strode onstage at the head of the first small group, the girls opting for ebony jacks in spite of the Dominants' best efforts to lure them into permanent slavery. She faced the Headmistress eye to eye as the older woman seated the guns behind her ears and fired the black caps into place over her jacks. The Headmistress smiled Her approval; Marina did not smile back.

I walked ahead of Chessie in the subs' group and kept my eyes fixed on Marina as the Headmistress marked me for life. I didn't care what sort of look the Headmistress might have for me; all I needed was the smile on my beloved Domme's face.

Of course, graduation alone wasn't enough to turn a schoolgirl into a Domme or sub for life. There was paperwork to fill out (twice as much for me as for Marina) and body scans to be completed, all to insure that our choices were truly made of our own free will. And then, of course, there was the matter of permanent programming.

After i had legally signed myself over, body and mind, to Marina, She took me back to Her family's estate in the Andes. Her Mother and father fussed over me and fed me and complimented Marina on Her fine choice of slaves. Their own marriage was a monogamous D/s bond founded on love, and they were delighted to see their daughter walking the same path. They gave us their blessing, then left us alone for our most intimate moment.

Marina led me down to the basement, to the banks of programming equipment that had been in Her family for centuries. "Did you know," She asked me as She escorted me to first in a long line of upright pods, "that I'm a direct descendant of one of our Founding Dominants?" She stroked the antique chrome and smiled fondly. "They were a much wiser bunch than the Rulers we have today - and a good thing, too. People like the Headmistress would be happy to force us all into slavery forever, not just make us try it out for six months and then leave the decision to us. They'd restrict Dominance to their own tightly knit group and lock the rest of us out in the cold. Of course, we'd never know what we were missing; but can you really imagine Me as a sub, forever?"

i blushed. It seemed impossible now that i'd ever worried Marina might choose such a fate. i understood now: She was a Dominant in the mold of our Founders: Supreme, unassailable, and totally lacking the cruelty that tainted so many of today's lesser Dominants. It occurred to me that people like the Headmistress might have a bit of Chessie in them; they felt they had to force obedience, whereas a Domme of Marina's stripe could command it without a word.

"Fortunately," She led me on down the line of pods as She talked, "the Founders anticipated a day when Dominants would try to claim more power than was just, and They drew up Their Constitution in such a way that it could never be altered. Their Word would always be Law."

She shrugged. "Not that our modern Rulers aren't tugging at the loopholes. Internship, for instance. you won't find this in the history feeds, karen, but I can tell you that it's only been mandatory for the last two hundred years or so. The same goes for labeling nonconformists as 'deviants' and segregating them to a single, mostly desert continent. My gut tells me that if things keep going in the direction they're moving now, it'll only take a century or three for the Ruling Dominants to grow bold enough to challenge the unchallengeable Constitution."

She eyed me grimly. "My goal, and the goal of the other Scions I've been in contact with, is to keep that from happening. We're going into politics, karen."

my heart leapt. "As You wish, my Mistress." i imagined myself, silver-skinned and silver-eyed, standing (kneeling, perhaps?) blankly at attention beside my Domme as She took the oath of office. i could easily see it happening. Marina had all the skill, knowledge, charisma, power - hell, everything - necessary to make the dream a reality. She was a born Ruler.

"But enough with the history lesson," Marina grinned. She took my hand and led me to the final pod in the line, a sleekly modern model that made the Academy's programmers look like garbage cans. "This is the one My Mother uses on My father, and it's the one I'm going to use on you." She looked me in the eye, not quite managing to hide Her excitement. "I'm not going to tell you exactly how I'm programming you until afterwards. you'll just have to trust Me."

i shivered uncontrollably, already on the brink of orgasm even before i'd entered the pod. This was it. This was the moment i surrendered myself entirely, eternally. And i didn't even know what i was surrendering to, just Whom. But that was all i needed. "i trust You," i whispered, and stepped into the pod.

Marina clicked the tube and cable into my jacks, then pulled the vibrator from its housing and inserted it effortlessly into my already-soaked pussy. She kissed me tenderly, then withdrew and closed the pod door.

i lay still as the pod began to tip slowly, gracefully, backward until i was lying supine. my clit pulsed with anticipation. Then the vibrator began to buzz and the nanites and chemicals to flow; and my world turned to silent, blissful silver.

i lay in that mindless heaven for what might have been hours or days; there was no sense of time, only ecstasy. But at last the buzzing and pulsing stopped, and the door opened. i was upright again; the pod must have swung back to vertical while i was still entranced. How delicious to think i'd been so deep i hadn't noticed the movement.

my flash-blinded eyes slowly cleared, and i saw Marina standing before me in the gown I had bought for her during her internship. Her hair was upswept, and the ebony jacks gleamed against her olive skin. Love and devotion swelled within me. This was my Domme. This was my Mistress. This was my Owner.

i waited patiently while She unplugged my jacks and slid the vibrator out from between my legs. Funny, i didn't feel any different, but i didn't dare make a move or even look away from my Mistress until She allowed me to do so. i'd learn what She'd done to me in Her time, not mine.

Marina smiled and took my hands. "Come take a look at yourself," She invited. She led me to a nearby mirror, and i shuddered with pleasure at the sight of my lovely new/old silver body, my eyes that mirrored the mirror, my naturally submissive posture. Yes, this was the real me. This was what i was always meant to be. Almost without thinking, i dropped to my knees, and Marina placed Herself behind me with Her hands on my shoulders.

"Configuration alpha," She said.

my body went rigid while my mind halted mid-thought. i floated in a no-zone, brainless, will-less, expectant. my clit thrummed like a plucked piano string.

"What is your name, slave?" my Mistress asked.

A message scrolled across my silent mind and marched on out my mouth. "This slave has no name, Mistress," came the dull, staccato voice. my mind grew still again at it awaited new input.

"What is your purpose?"

"The purpose of this slave is to please Mistress Marina Pereira in any way She desires. This slave has no other reason for being."

my Mistress smiled and bent to kiss my forehead. my body stayed rigid, but everything from my throbbing clit to my vacant mind was alight with blinding white fireworks.

"Configuration Omega," Marina said.

Realizing I was groveling like a slave, I leapt to My feet and eyed Myself critically in the mirror. The silver leached from My skin and eyes almost as though I'd willed it away. My pleasure increased as My natural coloration reasserted itself. The pulse at my clit boomed through my whole body, flooding every cell with power. I felt strong, confident, capable of ruling the world - hell, the solar system, the universe!

There was just one thing wrong. I turned to Marina and frowned. "I want clothes," I snapped. "Now."

She grinned impishly. "Configuration kappa."

Suddenly i was mortified. How could i have been so rude to the Domme Who held my mind in Her hands? "M-Mistress Marina," i stammered, "i'm so, so sorry. i should never have talked to You that way. i don't know what got into me."

"Dominance got into you," she smiled. "How did you like it?"

my eyes widened as i began to grasp the depth of all She'd done to me. i was awed, grateful, and more than a little scared. me, capable of Dominance? But also capable of the uttermost submission. And it was all by Her command. She could rearrange my internal landscape as easily as a child posing a doll. my inner thighs dampened.

But my Domme had asked a question, and i had to answer Her as quickly and honestly as i could. "i guess i know now how You felt during Your internship. It was great at the time; but, well, it just wasn't me....This is, though, right?" i chewed my lip. i'd never know if it wasn't unless She told me.

Marina turned me back to face the mirror, and i was relieved to see that the silver girl had returned in all her submissive glory. "'kappa' is for 'karen,'" she purred, and kissed the corner of my jaw. "And that will always be My favorite configuration. But there are twenty-three letters in the Greek alphabet, and we're going to explore them all."

She smiled at Her reflection, and i smiled at mine.

Really, ours was the best of all possible worlds.