John walked toward the building, leading a slave on a leash and talking on a cell phone. “Julia, I’m coming in the back. I have the new bookkeeper. I need you to take charge of her, have her get dressed, get her some lunch, and set her up with the old bookkeeper so they can arrange the transition. OK, good. Yes, I had lunch with her owner. She stood behind her owner and watched, so I’m sure she’s hungry. Yes, the contract is signed. See you in a bit.” He closed the phone and pocketed it. The slave was the new bookkeeper that they had seen the day before, tall, willowy, handcuffed, and completely nude except for her tennies. She was also ballgagged. John thought that her owner was rather sadistic, making her stand there gagged and leashed to his chair while they ate. He did appreciate the view, though. This girl was his girlfriend before her enslavement, and he was treating her not roughly, but unfeelingly. Maybe it was his way of getting her used to it, like his treatment of Delia was indoctrinating her. At the back door, he handed the new slave — he had to get her name — over to Julia along with a small bag containing her work clothing. “She needs to be back in this costume at 5:30 when her owner picks her up. Unless he isn’t picking her up, she should get herself like this herself every afternoon.”

Julia replied, “Yes, Mr. Thompson. I’ll come by after your 1 PM meeting to fill you in about your other purchase.”

“That will be fine. See you in about an hour.”

Julia took charge of the blonde and led her to the apartment. “Let’s get you ready for work.” Julia unbuckled and removed the ball gag. “What is your name?”

“Call me Willow.”

“Hello, Willow. Welcome to Thompson Connectors. I’m Julia. Let me get those cuffs off, then you can dress while I warm up some lunch.”

“Thank you.” Willow’s voice was flat and empty, almost mournful. After Julia unlocked the cuffs, Willow rubbed her wrists, then took the bag of clothes and sat on the couch to get dressed. Julia watched from the kitchen as she warmed up the pre-made meal in the microwave. The outfit was short and revealing, with stiletto heels. It was almost too racy for the office, but just modest enough. After Willow was done, she came into the kitchen and took the food from the microwave, then looked lost as she surveyed the drawers.

“I would have gotten that for you. Are you looking for silverware? Left drawer.”

Willow got herself some silverware and sat, and said, “I was told not to burden free women or let them do things for me.”

“Well, I won’t override your owner’s instructions, but I’m a slave too. Go ahead and eat. Would you like a soda with lunch?”

Willow looked at Julia strangely. “I thought you were free. You wear clothes and you spoke to the owner of the business like a free woman. And yes, I would love a soda. I haven’t eaten well since my enslavement.”

“All the slaves here wear clothes, unless we are playing, and that’s only up here. Rebecca and I live here. While you are here, please feel free to eat your fill of whatever is in the fridge or on the snack table downstairs. If you are hungry, let me know and I’ll take care of it. Hungry and uncomfortable slaves don’t do good work.”

Willow ate rapidly, and Julia started getting her more leftovers and fruit. When she slowed down, Julia advised, “Don’t eat too much or you’ll get sick. Your owner doesn’t feed you?”

“He feeds me, but not a lot. I’m not sure whether he is trying to keep me skinny or get me used to slavery. I’m naked and gagged a lot of the time. Some of it isn’t his fault. He was my boyfriend, but my old boyfriend bought me at the auction and was going to have them put me in the guillotine. He sold me to my boyfriend at the last minute, but put all kinds of conditions on things, like me being naked most of the time, staying a slave for five years, weekly whippings, and being sent to my old boyfriend from time to time. I’m not looking forward to that.”

“I don’t blame you. Let’s go downstairs and get you started.”