Peaches followed the tug of her lead to the Franklin Gate she’s helped set up. The first world they were going to was the 13th in the series listed by Franklin, the one she’d suggested herself, was her destination. But she wasn’t going alone!
Peaches’ original plan had been to attempt to enter the societies she would be visiting, alone, and use her Slaveworld-given charms and training to bring back things that Samuel and his society would find useful. But the Slaveworlders were a bit unsure about letting her off her leash. They didn’t think she’d escape, she realised as they discussed it over cards, her head in Lady Cleobell’s lap. They just didn’t want to entrust something that was actually important to a slave! It just rubbed them all the wrong way.
So Peaches was going simply as herself. No disguises. Rather than reveal the existence of a Gate, the man who held her lead would tell the citizens of the world they were about to enter a cover story, and her role would be similar to her own original plan, except that she would have n respite from slavery even while on her mission!
Peaches, her new name engraved on a shiny metal disk hanging from her cute pink collar, shivered in fear. Her mind was a whirl of emotions, and one of the strongest was confusion – what had she done? How had she landed herself here? The man holding her lead was a tall, patrician-looking minor aristocrat, a friend of the family of Colonel Ewing, Peaches’ legal owner. His name was Ross, and he was a Baronet, a low-ranking aristocrat but an aristocrat. He was the obvious choice, she realised – he was important enough to be trusted, but not too important to be lost should the plan fail. He was dressed this morning, and warmly – it was autumn on the world the Gate would drop them into. Meanwhile Peaches, for the first time in months, was wearing clothing – of sorts.
Her body was encased in a red latex catsuit, more than skintight, with a matching red latex corset over the top. Her blonde hair was tucked up in a ponytail, exiting out of a hole in the red latex hood that covered her head, leaving her face exposed. Thigh-high PVC boots with 4 inch platforms and 7 inch heels, hobbled at 18 inches by a tiny steel chain between her ankles, completed her basic outfit. Peaches’ arms were cuffed together down her back, wrist to wrist and elbow to elbow, forcing her breasts out into increased prominence. A typical Slaveworld gesture, her catsuit was open at the crotch and her nipples protruded too, a small, pretty weight dangling painfully from each one. Her crotch chain simply clipped onto her catsuit, the tiny steel links holding a teasing dildo and butt plug inside her. She hadn’t slept last night – she’d been busy being introduced to the man who would be her pretend owner for the next two days , and afterwards the Colonel had wanted to give her a goodbye screwing – and she was terrified, humiliated and desperate to come!
Just a normal day, then, Peaches reflected wryly. The Gate shimmered into life, and her new master looked her over. Seeing that she was nervous, he slipped his hand between her legs, stroking her clitoris against the rough-yet-smooth chain. When she sighing behind her mouth-stretching red ball gag, he stopped, but he had done enough – Peaches would follow him anywhere now, on the offchance that he might do that some more!
In fantasy, being a slave had been much less scary and much, much less humiliating, but on the other hand Peaches never could have imagined the effects of the best brainwashing she could imagine, plus the modification, the surgically implanted aphrodisiacs and the constant affirmation of her place as a slave, a possession. When she told her owner or one of his friends that she existed to please them, Peaches wasn’t lying!
Her groin on fire with lust, wiggling her walk more than she had been taught to try to increase the sensation from the dildo and plug strapped inside her, Peaches walked forward on the end of her lead into a new world.
She felt dizzy again, almost falling to her knees, the world spinning around like it did when she’d had way too much to drink. But her owner grabbed her, holding her against him tightly, and smiled down at her. She felt herself relaxing, and then he took out a map and compass and set off across a thin gravel track. Peaches couldn’t help but notice that she was not dressed for hiking, but they seemed to be in a fairly civilized wilderness, with neat tracks and pretty waterfalls.