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Kathryn and Sara
BY JYM

F/F Humil, slavery, Bnd -

- JYM - gj@sprynet.com

- Claire: Hope you enjoy this!


My name is Kathryn Lassiter and I'm thirty-four years
old. I'm a successful attorney, a partner in a solid mid-sized
law firm located in a wealthy town in New England. I'm a tall,
athletic woman with light brown hair, hazel/green eyes, and a
nice figure. I'm not beautiful, but I am attractive, especially
in the summer when I have a nice tan and my hair has blonde
streaks from the sun. My legs are my best feature - long and
sleek and shapely.

My life was turned upside down a year ago when my
husband and two children were killed in an automobile accident.
I was devastated. My life was over as far as I was concerned. I
got through the funeral and all rest on a kind of automatic
pilot - I was there, and interacted with people, but it wasn't
really me. Afterward, when it was all over, and I was alone at
last, I broke down.

I mean I really broke down. Not a classic nervous
breakdown. I just stopped. Stopped caring, stopped doing,
stopped living. I drank. A lot. I still went to the office
everyday but I didn't get much done. My partners were tolerant
at first but their tolerance didn't last that long. They warned
me that I'd have to snap out of my funk and start pulling my
weight, but I didn't pay any attention.

Then I got a second warning - my secretary, who'd been
with me for years, was taken away and replaced with a young
woman from the secretarial pool. Sara had just turned 25 at the
time and was considered a misfit by everyone at the firm - she
was small and slim, her hair was cropped extemely short and had
a purple streak in it, and she was obviously gay. The fact that
she was an excellent legal secretary with a college degree and
was going to law school had nothing to do with everyone's
opinion of her. She was different, an in-your-face lesbian
activist and the partners, myself included when I'd cared,
wanted her out.

She came to work for me on a Wednesday and by Friday she
was obviously disgusted with me. When I left the office early
she was sitting at her desk and didn't even look up when I
walked past. She must have swung into action as soon as I was
gone and she must have done some real wheeling and dealing.

I didn't know anything about it until later that evening
when she showed up at my front door. I was working on my third
martini and feeling no pain. I was astonished to see her and
demanded to know what she wanted. She pushed past me and told me
to close the door. "We have to talk. Now. And decide our
futures."

We stood there in the hall, facing each other at fairly
close range. I asked her what she meant by 'our futures' and she
made a face. "Haven't you figured it out yet? They put me with
you because they want to get rid of both of us. They couldn't
dump me while I was in the pool, but now that I'm working for
you they can let me go when they dump your ass. I won't be
needed anymore. It's the perfect solution."

She was right. I should have seen it right away, but I
hadn't been thinking about much except drinking. "What do you
plan to do about it? I think they can do pretty much what they
want, all things considered." Normally I would have been the one
to make the plans, but.....

Sara grinned. I know a few things and I have a friend or
two down there. I did some talking this afternoon and made a
deal with them. I get until the day after Labor Day, just over
six weeks, to get you back into shape. If I do, we both have a
job. If I don't, I agreed that we'd both go quietly."

I stared at her in shock. "What gave you the right...."
Then I stopped. She was fighing for her job too and had every
right to make the best deal she could. I started again. "So,
what are you going to do?"

"It's what we're going to do, you're in this too. I'm
moving in with your for the duration and get you back into
shape. Any objections?" She leaned back against the wall with
her arms folded across her chest and waited for me to speak.

I hesitated for a moment, trying to marshall my
thoughts. My thinking was three-martini fuzzy. "I think you
should leave and leave me alone." Lame, but the best I could
come up with at the moment.

She shook her head. "No, I'm not leaving. And you're
going to do exactly what I say." As she spoke, she straightened
up and her hand flicked out and she slapped me across the face,
hard. I reeled back against the wall and rubbed my cheek. "Any
questions," she demanded? Before I could speak she slapped me
again. Very hard. "No? Good. Now lets get my stuff out of the
car."

She ushered me outside and we got her things from her
car. Two suitcases, a backpack, and several boxes of books. We
took them upstairs and put them in the guest bedroom. Then she
made me give her a complete tour of the house and grounds. My
husband and I had purchased the house with money inherited from
my grandmother. It's a big colonial (12 rooms) set on 3.5 acres
land in a secluded suburban location. No houses closer that 200
yards and none within view or with a view onto our property.

We did a lot of work on the place when we first bought
it - had a pool put in with a combination pool-house and gym
next to it. Did some extensive landscaping, but left almost 3/4
of an acre, down it the back, covered with trees and bushes. The
front and side yards were landscaped and planted extensively
(and expensively).

Sara was impressed even though I had let things go - the
pool was dirty, the yard was overgrown and there was a lot of
work to be done. When we got back inside Sara poured me a drink
and said, "Enjoy it. This is your last one. Tomorrow we start
working your ass back into shape." I downed the drink eagerly
and reached for the bottle. She backhanded me across the face
and snarled, "That was your last drink. Now go to bed."

I stumbled upstairs and fell asleep immediately. She
dragged me out of bed at 5:30 the next morning. Literally
dragged me out of bed and made me take a cold shower. Then she
made me get into my sweats and run with her. We only managed a
half-mile, but she felt it was a start. Back at the house we had
breakfast (coffee only for me) and then both took showers and
got dressed.

We spent the morning making the rounds, buying things
that Sara felt were needed. A stop at the hardware store
resulted in the purchase of 50' of heavy chain, several
padlocks, a couple of heavy brush knives, and some other tools.
Then we stopped at a beauty parlor owned by a friend of Sara's.
We got there early, before it opened, so there was nobody to
witness Sara slapping me into submission so that her friend
could crop my hair until it was no longer than 1/2" anywhere on
my head. It completely changed the way I looked. She also had me
waxed - a painful process that left me smooth and bare below the
waist.

When we arrived back at the house, Sara went into the
bathroom and I stared into the hall mirror for five minutes,
unable to believe how different I looked with my hair cropped.
Then Sara appeared and dragged me upstairs to my bedroom. She
told me that we were going to get started and I had better do as
I was told. Then she told me to take my clothes off. I refused.
She backhanded me across the face and then pinned me against the
wall. "Listen, bitch, and listen good! I'm a tough dyke and I'm
into heavy S/m - I don't mind hurting you. Do as your told or I
will. Understand?"

I nodded and she stepped back. I took a deep breath and
then removed my clothes. After I started to unbutton my top, she
turned and went over to my closet. She rummaged around and came
out with a pair of work boots that I hadn't worn in months. Then
she found a pair of cotton socks in my dresser. When I finished
undressing, she tossed the socks to me and told me to put them
on. She informed me that the socks and workboots were the only
garments I was allowed to wear. Then she hesitated and said,
"You need a sweatband, find something to put around your
forehead to keep the sweat out of your eyes." I found an old red
bandana that my husband had used for the same purpose and put it
on.

Then we started working. First we stripped the bed and
got all the towels and made a big pile of laundry. I took the
first load down while Sara cleaned the master bath. Then I went
back and helped her. We spent the rest of the morning cleaning
the upstairs. It wasn't that big a job because I had just been
using the master bedroom and bathroom. It was mostly a matter of
dusting and vacuuming.

Then we had lunch. I had to fix it and serve it out on
the back patio. When I went to sit down Sara shook her head and
said, "No." Then I got my next lesson. I was a non-person, not
allowed to sit at the table with her. She made me take my lunch
and sit on the steps to eat. After lunch we cleaned the
downstairs. That took the entire afternoon and left me
exhausted. Whenever I faltered Sara drove me back to work with a
slap. After the second incident she went upstairs and returning
with a little leather quirt hanging from her belt. I took that
across the ass a couple of times and it hurt. I worked hard.

I had to cook and serve supper, again on the patio. Then
Sara went upstairs while I did the dishes. When she returned she
brought the chain, the locks, a slim metal collar and some heavy
eyebolts. Then she went down to the cellar and returned with my
husband's cordless drill. She drilled a hole high in the wall at
one back corner of the pool house and screwed one of the
eyebolts in, using a screwdriver slipped through the eye for
leverage. Then she attached one end of the chain, locking it
with on the the padlocks.

When that was done she came over and handed me the metal
collar. She told me to put it on and slapped me when I refused.
I was tired of being slapped and lunged for her. That was a big
mistake. She punched me in the belly and used the quirt on me as
I knelt on the grass, holding my belly and gasping for breath. I
screamed and begged her to stop. She did, but not until I had
taken five or six hard cuts across my back. I put the collar on
and she secured it with another of the padlocks. Finally, the
chain was locked to a ring set in the back of the collar.

Fifty feet of chair allowed me to move around a sizeable
area of the yard near the pool. It also allowed me to come
around to the front of the poolhouse and get inside. But only
just a few feet inside. Sara informed me that I would spend my
nights chained in the yard until I was a person again. I
protested. "What about a bed? What about a toilet? This is
inhuman! You can't do this to me!"

She grinned. "I can and I am. You can sleep on the bare
floor in the poolhouse. Any more out of you and I'll shorten the
chain so you have to stay outside all night. And I'll get you a
bucket to use when you have to go to the bathroom. Any
questions?" I started to open my mouth and she lashed out with
the quirt, catching me across the hip. I screamed in pain and
she grinned. "Good, if there are no question then I'm going in."
And she did.

I spent a cold, miserable night huddled on the floor of
the poolhouse. The next morning I was outside early, waiting for
Sara to come and release me. She came out about six a.m. with a
cup of coffee in one hand and a slice of toast in the other. She
nodded to me and sat down of the steps. "Aren't you going to
release me," I asked?

"Yes, later, after I've showered and gotten dressed."
She continued to sip her coffee and take bites of toast.

"Well, how about me? Don't I get any coffee?"

She glanced at me and said, "Beg. On your knees."

"Never!"

She grinned. "Suit yourself. It's no skin off my nose.
When I'm finished we'll get to work on the pool."

I held out for a couple of minutes. The I moved as close
to the steps as I could and dropped to my knees. "Please, may I
have a cup of coffee? Please!"

Sara stood up. "That's better. I'll be back in a
moment." She returned a couple of minutes later with a cup of
coffee and a slice of buttered toast. She handed them to me and
the returned to sit on the steps. I took a sip of coffee and
nothing had ever tasted so wonderful! The toast disappeared
quickly and I asked for another but Sara shook her head. I had
to be content with the coffee.

A few minutes later Sara put her cup down and pulled a
set of keys out of her pocket. She unlocked the chain from my
collar and told me to follow her. She walked into the house and
paused just inside the door while I stopped and removed my
boots. Then, wearing just my white cotton socks, I followed her
upstairs to the master bathroom.

She allowed me to shower and brush my teeth. Then she
sent me to get a clean pair of socks. When I returned, she was
just stepping into the shower. I was surprised at how beautiful
her slim, boyish body was without closes. Sara's not beautiful,
but she is attractive and without clothes she looked very sexy.
Her small round breasts were tipped with little pink nipples.
Her belly was flat and her pubic area was smooth and bare. Her
slim legs were very pretty, especially her firm sleek thighs.

As she stepped into the shower she glanced back at me
and smiled. Then she snapped her fingers and said, "Kneel". I
obeyed instinctively and remained on my knees while she showered
and dried off. She told me to stay where I was when she left the
bathroom to get dressed. When she returned she was wearing jeans
and a sleeveless denim workshirt. She snapped her fingers and
said, "Let's get going. We've got lots to do today." As I
followed her down the hall I noticed that the leather quirt was
hanging from her right wrist. I shivered, remembering what it
had felt like when she used it on me the day before.

The last thing we'd done the night before was to open
the drain on the pool in anticipation of cleaning it in the
morning. When we got outside we found that most of the water had
drained out, leaving a few puddles of scummy water at the bottom
of the pool. Cleaning the pool involved the use of a harsh
chemical cleaner and Sara decided to let me put on some clothes.
She came in with me because she decided a sleeveless shirt
wasn't good for her to wear. I put on a pair of jeans and a
long-sleeved denim jacket. Nothing else - no underwear, no bra.
Sara changed into a sweatshirt and we went back outside.

We worked liked dogs. Sara didn't let me slack off a bit
and I was exhausted by noontime. She worked just as hard, but I
still resented her when she drove me on with the quirt. After a
short break for lunch we went back to work and were ready to
refill the pool by 5 p.m. I did the final rinsing with the
garden hose after removing everything but the metal collar. When
I was done and Sara had inspected it, we started filling it
again. Then we showered and had supper. After supper I was
chained in the yard again.

The pool was only half-filled by the next morning and
Sara was disappointed. I assured her that it would be filled by
that night and we could add the necessary chemicals and be
swimming late the next day. We spent the day working in the
yard. Sara made me keep a good coating of SPF15 suntan lotion on
at all times. She spread it over my back for me and I was
surprised at how gentle she was. She wasn't gentle when she
thought I wasn't working hard enough and I felt the quirt
several times that day. And the next. And the day after that. We
worked hard with occasional breaks for a cooling swim. We both
swam nude.

By the end of the first week the yard was in good shape.
I was surprised to realize how much better I was feeling. On
Friday night I took a long look in the mirror and saw that my
muscles were firming up again and I looked fitter. The scales
confirmed that I had lost eight of the twenty-two pounds I'd put
on while I was drinking. I had some scratches and bruises and a
few welts from the quirt, but I was also tanned and looking
better.

With the yard in good shape, Sara began working me in
the gym. She also made me swim countless laps in the pool. Some
things were still hard to handle. Sleeping in the pool house on
the bare floor was one. Peeing in front of Sara was still
embarassing. That first night, when she'd brought out the pail
for me to use I'd been embarassed at the thought of using it.
But I did. She had me empty it each morning and evening. But
that first day we worked in the yard, when I had to pee I
started to walk back to use the pail. Sara shook her head when I
explained where I was going. "No, it's a waste of time. Squat
and pee here."

"You're joking, aren't you?" She wasn't. I squatted and
looked up at her with tears in my eyes. "Why are you humiliating
me like this?"

She shrugged. "I'm going to tear you down and build you
back up. You have to lose your inhibitions and your bad habits
before you can heal." That first time was hard, but it got
easier. I was still embarassed, but I was getting used to it.

At the end of the second week I found I'd lost another
ten pounds. I was getting lean and fit. My muscle tone was back.
I was very nicely tanned. Sara rewarded me with dinner at a
restaurant. I wore a dress, thigh highs, and heels. Underwear
and a bra. It was the first time in ten days that I had worn a
stitch of clothing. Dinner was wonderful. We talked about law
school, the firm and the various partners, the work we'd been
doing. Sara's plans for the future. A lot of things. After we
left, Sara drove to the beach and we bought ice cream cones from
a vendor and watched the moon on the water.

As we ate our ice cream and chatted, Sara glanced at me
from time to time. Finally, she asked me if something was wrong.
I laughed and said, "You'll think it's really stupid."

She shook her head and said, "No, I won't. Go ahead and
tell me."

I felt myself blushing as I whispered, "It feels strange
to be wearing clothes. Uncomfortable."

She smiled and glanced around. It was after 10 p.m. and
the beach was deserted. The ice cream truck was long gone. "What
do you want to do?"

I hesitated. "May I take my clothes off?" She nodded and
I quickly stripped and tossed everything into the car. Then I
sighed. I felt better wearing nothing but the collar. Then I
asked Sara about what she'd said about being a dyke and being
heavily in S/m.

She shrugged. "No much to tell. I'm a dominant lesbian.
I like to enslave my lovers and dominate them completely. Break
them and retrain them the way I want them."

I shivered. "Are you going to break me? Enslave me?"

She stared at the water in silence and I thought she
wasn't going to answer. Finally she asked me if that's what I
wanted.

It was my turn to hesitate. "I'm not sure. I hate the
pain when you use the quirt on me, but I get excited when I
think about it later. I'm wet now just talking about it." I
blushed and she chuckled.

She said it was time to go and we got into the car. As
she started it up she glanced over at me and said, "I'll think
about it." She was silent the entire way home. That night, as I
huddled on the floor of the poolhouse, she opened the door and
tossed me a light blanket and left without saying a word.

The next day, and every day for the next two weeks, we
cleared brush in the morning and worked out in the gym and pool
in the heat of the afternoon. We worked even if it rained. By
the end of the fourth week I was fitter than I had ever been. My
weight was down to 127 pounds (I'm 5'10") and I looked great.
Sara took my measurements - 35-26-34. I'd lost 2 inches off my
waist, 2.5 off my hips, and an inch from my bustline. Of course
I was down from a c-cup to a b-cup but that didn't bother me. My
hair was shot through and through with blonde streaks from being
outside most of the time.

That night, after supper, Sara went upstairs and didn't
come down until long after I'd finished the dishes. I was
waiting outside for her, expecting her to lock the chain to my
collar as usual. When she came out, she took a key out of her
pocket and unlocked the collar. I was stunned and asked her what
was going on.

"I'm leaving. You're ready to to back to work. You don't
need me anymore. I'm all packed. Please help me bring my stuff
out to my car." She turned away and walked back up the steps. I
followed, stunned and silent. We brought everything out to her
car and I stood there and watched her turn the car and drive
down the driveway.

I should have been happy and I was - happy that I was
off the booze and back in shape, ready to go back to work. I
wasn't sure how I felt about Sara leaving. I went back in and
locked the front door behind me. I walked through the house - it
was immaculate, Sara wouldn't tolerate anything less. I rubbed
my right buttock where she'd caught me with the quirt not two
hours previously. I had a good welt there, but I'd deserved it.
I was shocked to realize how accepting I was of corporal
punishment!

I walked out the back door and down the steps, glancing
around at all the work we'd done. I sat on the edge of the pool
and dangled my feet in the water. I was still nude and felt no
desire to get dressed. I sat there for quite a while and after a
few minutes I started to cry. I cried for several minutes - I
wasn't sure why I was crying, but I told myself it was relief
that I was now free, but that was a lie. I was crying because I
felt so alone.

After I cried myself out I got up and went into the
house. I rummaged around and found a long lenght of rope in the
cellar. I took it back outside and found a good spot where there
was a sturdy tree limb at the right height. I fashioned a noose
and tossed it over the limb, tying the other end around the
trunk of the tree. Then I went and got a stool to stand on. I
climbed up and placed the noose around my neck.

I took a last look around and was about to step off when
I heard a scream, "Nooooooo!" I glanced around and saw Sara
running across the patio. She stopped in front of me and
screamed, "Get that fuckin' noose off you dumb bitch!" I obeyed
and she grabbed my arm and pulled me down off the stool. Then
she undid the noose and tied my wrists with the rope. I stood
there while she untied the rope from the tree trunk, pulled it
until I was up on the tips of my toes, and then retied it. She
left me there and returned a few minutes later with the quirt
and a ball-gag.

As she forced the gag into my mouth she called me a
stupid, worthless cunt and told me that she was going to teach
me a lesson. She did. She beat me for almost an hour while I
screamed into the gag. She started at my shoulders, in back, and
worked her way down to my heels. Then she stepped around in
front of me and worked her way up my body. By the time she
stopped I was drenched with sweat, covered with welts and
hanging limp, the pain in my wrists a minor thing. She told me
later that I barely twitched when she gave me the last five
across my tits.

When she took the gag out I was sobbing in agony. She
lifted my chin until we were staring into each other's eyes.
"Have you learned your lesson?"

I nodded. "Yes, please don't hurt me anymore. Please!
I'll do anything!"

She untied me and whipped me back to the pool. I
stumbled along, sobbing and begging for mercy. When we got to
the pool, she forced me to kneel and beg to be collared again.
"This time it's permanent. You're asking for lifetime slavery!
Is that what you want?"

I stared up at her and whispered, "Yes, please. I want
to be your slave." I dropped down onto my belly and licked her
feet in submission. She let me do it for a couple of minutes and
then ordered me back onto my knees. She collared me and I cried
with pleasure as she locked it on. Then she spreadeagled me on
the fence, my back to the fence, and gagged me with a length of
toweling. She told me that it would muffle my screams, but still
allow her to enjoy them. As a further cover, she brought out a
portable radio and turned it on. Then she beat me while I
screamed and begged for mercy.

After a couple of minutes she stopped beating me and
fucked me with the handle of the quirt. I didn't orgasm, but it
felt good. She beat me again and then masturbated me to orgasm.
Then she beat me again for a couple of minutes before getting
down on her knees to lick my pussy. I had never been eaten by a
woman before and it was fantastic! I orgasmed twice.

That's the way it went for a couple of hours. Short,
hard beatings followed by great sex. The following day was more
of the same. We stayed out at the pool most of the time. The day
passed very slowly. Sun, sex, swimming, and beatings. Then, that
night, she spreadeagled me on the fence and told me that she was
going to break me. She did. In twenty savage minutes using a
pair of pliers and some straight pins. She turned the radio up
and I screamed my guts out as she tortured me, putting needles
through my nipples, labia and clit. She knew I was broken when I
begged her to let me be her toilet. She pissed in my mouth and I
swallowed every drop. I was enslaved.

That night I slept in a bed for the first time in almost
five weeks. She put on a strap-on dildo and fucked my brains
out! It was fantastic! I screamed with pleasure when she put me
on my belly and fucked me in the ass! I had never allowed my
husband to do that and I was shocked at how much I enjoyed it.
The next few days passed in a haze of sun, sex, and exercise. We
worked at clearing the back part of the property, swam, fucked,
and I learned how to please her with my tongue, my fingers, and
a strap-on dildo. I learned how to respond to the most subtle
gestures and unspoken commands. I learned to be a nude lez sex
slave. I learned to love it.

On Saturday, with one full week ahead of us, we were
content. She took me downtown and had my hair cropped short and
had me waxed again. I was wearing a white cotton tank top and a
very short denim skirt. No underwear, no hosiery, no bra. A pair
of Dr. Scholls on my feet. I felt comfortable stripping in front
of her friend. We all chatted while she was cutting my hair and
waxing me. I was nude for the whole thing and happy about it.

Then she took me to a jewelery store run by a young
lesbian couple. On the drive over she stroked my bare thighs and
mentioned that she was going to have me pierced. I shivered with
fear and whispered, "Where?"

She shrugged. "Nipples. Labia. Navel. Clit maybe. No
place visible. You have to work. I've heard that a tiny
stainless steel stud through the base of your clit will keep you
in an almost constant state of sexual arousal." She fell silent
for a moment. "What do you think, slave?"

"It scares me, mistress," I whispered, "But if it
pleases you than I am happy."

She looked over at me and grinned. "You learn so fast!"

As she talked with the women at the jewelry store I
wandered around and looked at everything. Then she snapped her
fingers and I shed my clothes without hesitation. The younger
woman, a cute redhead, cupped my tits and ran her thumbs over my
nipples, causing them to harden instantly. I glanced at Sara and
blushed. She grinned. The redhead pronounced my nipples perfect
for piercing. Then I sat on a bench with my legs spread while
they examined my genitals with gloved hands, chatting with Sara
all the while. They decided to put a ring in my clitoral hood,
two rings in each labia, a stud in the base of my clit, and a
ring in each nipple.

They numbed my nipples with ice cubes and pierced them
first. As they worked, the redhead head continually assured me
that I was doing fine. I blushed when she glanced at Sara and
asked, "Do you use her asshole much?" Sara shook her head, "Not
enough, but that will change."

Then, in quick succession, they pierced my labia and
clitoral hood and inserted the selected gold rings. This time
numbing me with an injection of Novacaine. It turned out that
the redhead was a doctor and instead of being 23 or 24 as I had
guessed, she was 32. The stud in the base of my clit was last
and then I was done. (Sara was right - it keeps me aroused
almost constantly, something I've had to learn to deal with.)
The rings in my labia each have a 3" gold chain attached. The
chains hang down and brush my thighs as I walk. A real turn-on.
Sara can hang little weights from them if she wishes. Or heavy
weights to punish me.

Our next stop was a tattoo artist - again a lesbian. The
word 'slave' was tattoed on my lower belly, just above my slit.
My pubic hair will hide it if it is ever allowed to grow. Then
we went home and made love. And worked out. And worked on the
back of the property.

Finally the big day came. My return to work. I wore one
of my conservative gray power suits, a white silk blouse over a
white silk camisole, white stockings, and black pumps. I looked
stunning. My skirt was short, almost six inches above my knee,
showing a lot of firm, sleek thigh. Of course, the stockings
were thigh highs, I wore no panties, and no bra. I felt sexier
than ever. Sara dressed up too and looked very very nice.

I got a nice reception and the partners were happy that
I was back. With good reason - I had always been the one to
bring in the clients - the 'rainmaker' as it were. I got a great
deal of pleasure speculating about what they might think if they
saw me nude - saw the welts on my ass from the beating I'd
received early that morning, or saw the rings piercing my body.
Of course, they were happy when I told them that Sara would
remain as my secretary, but less happy when I told them that the
firm would pay for her to finish law school and furnish me with
another assistant to help Sara.

They would have been stunned to see me bent over my desk
after lunch. Taking 10 strokes across my bare ass for being
sarcastic to Sara. I was back as an attorney but I was still a
slave!


- The End?