SUMMER CAMP REDUX

BY JOREYMAY

The first part of this story is based heavily on the story "Sibling Summer Camp", by Kenna. It takes place at the same camp, and starts with similar people. In fact, the beginning is more or less a blatant ripoff of that story. But the "similar" people are not identical, and the story moves in a somewhat different direction.

"This is just too weird," Jane thought, as she splashed some water on her face in the bus restroom. She was excited to be on her way to summer camp. But this year was different in so many ways. Like this bus ride. Every other time they went to camp, their parents drove them to the place where the camp buses would pick them up. This time, they were going by bus, taking one bus to get to another bus.

She shook her head, and went back to their seats. In her absence, her pain in the butt brother, David, had kind of spread out into her seat. She still had enough room, so she sat. She bumped his leg in the process, and he swung his leg away and back to bump her. "Hey, watch it, Jane." he said, as he had said every time she'd bumped him for the last four hours. Yeah, he was a little brother, pain in the butt brat that could and would drive her crazy at any moment.

Still, it was a little reassuring to have him sitting next to her in the window seat. There weren't any other kids their age on the bus. There were some younger kids traveling with their parents, some couples, and mostly single men. So, having her brother along meant that some creepy stranger didn't try to sit next to her. She was 13 and David was 11.

Thinking about David got her started again. They were going to be there for four weeks, twice as long as she had ever been at summer camp before. Four times as long as David had been. She'd had a zillion questions about camp, but her brother had none. He seemed happy with heading off into an adventure that would unfold each day.

She, on the other hand, wanted to know ahead of time what would be happening. Swimming? Horseback riding? Crafts? Archery? She'd done all those at camp for the past two years, but only for a week long session or two. While she assumed that would be on the agenda at this camp, she didn't know for sure and her parents seemed to go out of their way to not tell her what to expect. Other years, they would go out of their ways to try to build her enthusiasm, telling her about all the activities.

They did tell her a few things. For starters, there would only be 16 girls and 16 boys at the camp. Her mother had said they were 'special." Her dad had said it was an "elite" group of campers. That comment made her think it was some kind of computer camp, because of the way people used 133T and the like. That didn't make too much sense, though. She was ok with computers and the web, but her skills were nothing special. David a bit behind her, but still ok for an 11 year old.

Starting from there, she tried looking the camp up online. But there were thousands of entries for "Camp Courage", covering hundreds of camps. One disturbing fact was that a lot of those camps were for "challenged" kids, which was disconcertingly close to what her mother had said. But neither she nor David were 'special' in that way. She dismissed that as a coincidence. Likewise, they did not have cancer, sickle cell, or any of the other crippling conditions many of the camps specialized in.

It was barely possible that it could have been one of the survival camps, designed to turn "at risk" kids around by putting them through wilderness challenges on a "succeed or die" basis, but she and David did not meet that definition of "at risk" kids, and the numbers did not work.

At least she had gotten one thing about the numbers clarified.

"Boys and girls at the same camp?" Jane asked, sounding thoroughly insulted. The last thing she wanted to do was spend her summer dealing with her pain in the butt brother and his peers.

"No, dear," said her mother. "The boys are on the other side of the lake. So, it's just 16 girls at your camp." That was a relief. But then her mother went on to say "I don't know where you get that prudish streak from. A girl your age ought to be interested in boys. Maybe you'd get a boyfriend."

If she knew what had happened to Katy, she would understand why Jane was not rushing into sex. Or even dating. But she didn't, and probably never would.

"Mom!" said Jane. "You want me to have an affair with a strange boy all alone up at camp? It's four weeks long. I thought parents were supposed to discourage that sort of thing." But, she knew her parents were different.

Her parents would hop into the hot tub naked (and she had too until she'd turned 8 and figured things out). Just a few days ago she'd found her parents and the next door neighbors in the tub. She didn't stay around long enough to confirm it, but she knew they were all naked. As she'd spun around and left, her dad had yelled out, "Come on and join us, pumpkin!" She didn't like Mr. James, the next door neighbor, or the way he looked at her. But something about the way Mrs. James looked at her reminded her of the women who'd done those things to Katy. It made her feel a little sick. Naked would be even worse. She'd felt herself blushing even though she was already out of sight.

Then there was the way they had flaunted their affairs. Since she'd been old enough to think about sex, she had a nasty suspicion about the nature of the "sleepovers" they had, often with one spending the night at someone else's house, and the husband or wife of that person sleeping at Jane's house. She'd always kept quiet about it since she didn't want to upset David. But she also thought it was pretty obvious, especially with the noises she sometimes heard.

When she had sleepovers with her friends, or went to ones at friends' houses, that sort of thing didn't happen.

The one time she asked her mother about it, she was told that every married couple sets the rules for their marriage, and that their games with their friends were within the rules they had set, as long as they didn't hide them from each other. She had also emphasized that it was important not to betray her family by telling other people about the games. She said that people got upset when someone rubbed their noses in the fact that some marriages had different rules than those of the families you see on tv. "Playing with other people doesn't weaken a family," Jane's mother had said, "But betrayal destroys families."

Jane would remember that.

There was another strange difference, this time. Other years, their parents would joke about how they would be partying away their kid free weeks. Or at least she thought it was a joke. They would tease them as they got ready, and on the drive to where the camp bus would pick them up. They kept it light, and used their "I don't really mean it" tone of voice. Then, at the bus, they would admit that they might miss their kids a little bit while they were gone.

That hadn't happened this time. Their parents kept them busy, and talked about what a wonderful time they were going to have at camp. They seemed more excited about it than Jane and David combined.

But they also had a lot of meetings. Some were work related. Others were about the fact that David would be starting Middle School after the summer. For most of those, David went with them. She remembered some of those meetings from two years before, when she was the one changing schools.

They made time to be with them, as always. But there was none of the "when you're gone" posturing. None of the teasing. Maybe it was just the fact that the camp would last so long this time. Or maybe it had to do with some of those meetings. Something at work or something. Jane wished she knew.

Jane relaxed a little when the bus stopped and they got off. There was a different bus, smaller than the first, with the name "Camp Courage" on the side of it. A counselor by the bus checked their names off and Jane found the bus loaded with boys in the back and girls in the front. She took a seat by herself and was promptly joined by a girl who switched seats just to sit by her. David went to the back and disappeared from Jane's thoughts.

"Hi, I'm Cassie," said the girl next to her. "Gosh, I bet camp is going to be great this summer."

"I'm Jane. I'm excited, too, but my parents wouldn't tell me a thing about it. What about yours? Do you know what we can do at camp?"

"Maybe, maybe not," said Cassie with an air of mystery. She looked Jane over closely, sizing her up, and said, "Maybe you and I can be partners."

"What do you mean, maybe, maybe not? Do you know or not?"

"Not," said Cassie. For some reason, Jane didn't really believe her.

"But I do know that we have to have a partner, you know, the buddy system, like swimming and all. I don't know anybody else, do you? We can be partners."

"No, I don't know anybody either, except my brother."

"Cool," said Cassie. "Your brother came along, too? Was he the boy that came on the bus with you?"

Jane nodded, and Cassie continued, "Too bad the boys are way over on the other side of the lake. That could have been fun. He looked like a younger brother. Is he?"

"Yeah," said Jane, amused at the way Cassie jumped around in her conversation. "He's just 11 and a real pain."

Cassie giggled like Jane had told a joke. "So, partners or not?"

"Ok, Partners," said Jane, extending her hand. The two girls shook hands, formally sealing their new partnership. "So, I guess you have a boyfriend?"

"Yeah," said Cassie. "But, he's not coming to this camp. Guess I'll have to find me a new one." Jane thought that was a little strange.

Cassie frankly looked Jane over, in the somewhat disconcerting way girls have when sizing each other up. "You're pretty cute. Bet you have a boyfriend, too."

"Nope," said Jane. "Boys are just trouble." She gave Cassie a closer look, noting the other girl's long blond hair and blue eyes. Jane had short brown hair and brown eyes, the opposite of her new friend. Cassie's figure was comparable to Jane's figure, still small breasted and slender, but developing.

"You like girls, then?" asked Cassie mischievously.

"Yeah," said Jane innocently. She caught Cassie's expression and stammered, "I mean, as friends, you know, girl friends, I mean, not like a girl likes boys, I mean, I want to have a boyfriend, eventually, not a girlfriend that's like a boyfriend?"

Cassie cut her off with a laugh. "God, Jane, relax, I was just kidding. I know you aren't a ... hey, you can't say it can you?" She smirked at Jane. "You can't say lesbian, can you?"

"Can to," said Jane. "I'm just not one is all." Jane shuddered, thinking about Katy and the bikers.

"Say it, say it, say it," chanted Cassie quietly prodding the other girl.

She couldn't possibly know about Katy. About what those women had done to her. About what she had done to survive. She was just trying to push Jane's buttons, in the time honored tradition of adolescent girls sizing each other up.

Jane glanced around nervously, suddenly aware of how she must look. Her own mother thought she was a prude. These other girls would think she was that or worse. She couldn't handle 4 weeks of teasing. "Lesbian," she whispered to Cassie. "See, I can say it. I'm not a lesbian, OK?"

"OK," said Cassie still smirking. "Just trying to loosen you up."

Jane looked around the bus, noticing that the girls had all paired off, making 7 pairs. The pairs were talking quietly just as she and Cassie had been. All but one of the pairs looked like they were the same age. There were a couple of pairs her age, an older pair (maybe 15), and the rest looked around 11 or 12. The mismatched pair looked to be somewhere around the same ages as David and her. They also acted differently than the others, causing her to think they were sisters or something. Curious, she looked back over her shoulder and saw the boys were arranged about the same. They'd paired off nicely as the bus filled up.

Just then, two more girls boarded the bus. They were about the same ages as the mismatched pair. They introduced themselves to that pair, then suggested that the older girls sit together and the younger girls take the empty seat across the aisle.

Once they were settled, a woman in her mid-30s got on the bus. Jane recognized her as the counselor who had checked them in. She put down her clipboard, and said "I'd like to welcome you all to Camp Courage." There were brief shouts and applause. The woman smiled and said, "Yes, you'll all be having a very unusual, interesting, and educational experience at camp this summer. We only have two one-month sessions each summer and you and your parents have gone through a rigorous selection process to get here. You know something? The odds of winning the lottery are better than the odds of being selected for Camp Courage. You're all something special to us."

"I'm Ms. Christopher and I'm one of the counselors at Camp Courage. Now, please stay seated. We're going to be in the bus only about 20 minutes before we get to the camp. So, get acquainted with your seatmate. It looks like everybody has buddied up, so that's great."

Nobody seemed to be paying much attention to where the bus was taking them. Jane and Cassie spent the time talking about school and stuff. Jane gradually became aware that they had entered a pine forest, which made her feel more like she was going to camp. They'd been on the road for about 15 minutes when Cassie suddenly said, "Hey, isn't it cool to have boobs?"

Jane looked at her new friend in surprise, noticing that the other 13-year-old had pulled her tank top tight, making her small mounds prominent against the thin fabric. She stared in disbelief at Cassie's breasts as she realized that she could even make out Cassie's nipples. "Cassie!" she whispered. "God, anybody could see you."

"No, they couldn't," she whispered back. "The boys aren't even looking and besides, I'm below the back of the seat." She was almost right; the seat shielded her from being seen by boys, most girls, and Ms. Christopher.

"They can," Jane replied, pointing across the aisle.

"But they're not paying attention. "So, is it cool or not? Do you like having boobs?"

"Well, it's a little embarrassing sometimes," said Jane. "The boys stare at them now like they've never seen boobs before."

"Jeez, Jane, that's because they haven't. I mean, they haven't seen them on girls their own age before and they haven't seen them naked since they were babies. If then. And so what if they stare. It makes me feel good when they stare at me. I know they like me."

"I still say boys are just trouble," repeated Jane.

"Oh, you'll be changing your tune soon," said Cassie. "Let me tell you, once you feel a boy's dick inside you..."

"Cassie!" said Jane, cutting her off quickly. Then, she realized she was sounding like a prude again. "Have you... ?"

"Yeah," said Cassie with a smirk. "More than once, too. It feels good and once you do it, you'll love it. Fucking is great." She watched Jane's reaction and said, "I'll bet you can't say fucking."

"Fucking," said Jane under her breath. Her eyes were defiant as she proved she wasn't a prude.

Despite Jane's quick response, Cassie could tell she was making Jane too uncomfortable and changed the subject. She didn't want her seatmate to have second thoughts about being her partner. "OK, hey, we must be almost there. How about whoever sees the camp first gets choice of bunk?"

Jane's sudden craning of her neck to look out the window was tacit agreement that the game was on. To her dismay, the camp appeared on the other side of the bus and Cassie saw it first. Well, with just 16 girls at camp, how bad could second choice of bunk be?

The bus pulled up in front of some buildings and stopped. As the girls scrambled out, they were told to pile their bags beside a building and go inside. Jane left her bag and went into the dining room as the bus pulled out to take the boys to their camp. The tables had been cleared away and there was just a circle of chairs. The girls introduced themselves and got the camp introduction, but still without a mention of activities.

Then, Ms. Christopher announced, "Time for some teaming building and get acquainted activities, but first everybody to the showers."

Some of the girls seemed surprised at the idea of afternoon showers, but many of them were looking forward to a cooling shower and a chance to rinse off the sweat and dust from traveling most of the morning. The facilities were very Spartan and Jane found that just showering was a get acquainted activity as they all shared the same shower area. Even Ms. Christopher and the four other girls' counselors joined them in the shower.

From the shower they were led out of the building into a fenced in courtyard. Still naked, the girls felt the warmth of the sun on their entire bodies. A few were self-conscious, but there was no way any one could see inside the courtyard. "Nothing puts people on equal footing like being naked," said Ms. Christopher. Jane had her doubts. Something made her think of Katy.

"This is part of our getting acquainted session." Ms. Christopher continued. "And, to get everybody's mind off their lack of clothes, let's do some exercises."

Through jumping jacks, sit-ups, pushups, and other exercises, the girls did everything but get their minds off their nudity. But, they quickly started to giggle over their bouncing boobs and other parts of their anatomy that were getting unusual exposure and exercise. It was a great ice-breaker. The final exercise had the girls partner up, Jane with Cassie, sitting on the ground facing each other with their legs spread and feet touching. By grasping hands, the two could pull each other back and forth in stretching motions. It also brought a few snickers as the girls flashed each other quite brazenly.

The short exercise period had served to warm up the girls, but not make them too sweaty. For the next activity, Ms. Christopher handed the pairs of girls a dog collar, leash, handcuffs, and blindfold. She picked one girl to lead and the other to follow with the assurance that they would trade places later. Jane was declared the follower for the first round.

Jane looked at the collar, and knew this was no simple exercise. After what had happened to Katy, she'd looked a lot of things up on the net. That was a slave collar, and she was almost certain there would not be another round.

She tried to trade turns, but Cassie was adamant that Ms. C. had said to do it this way first. Now Jane was fairly sure Cassie was in on it. The only question was, how much real danger was she in?

Jane knew she was trapped, and was more than a little nervous as her hands were cuffed behind her back. "This will teach you to trust your partner," said Ms. Christopher.

"Yeah, right," Jane thought. "More like make us vulnerable and dependent on them." Of course, the problem was that she was already trapped. If she was right, there were five adults and eight girls who would support those adults. She was stark naked, and in what was probably a locked facility, miles from anywhere.

The shower and exercises had the desired effect of making the other girls comfortable with their nudity around the other girls, so they didn't protest.

Then, the collar was placed around her neck and the leash was attached to the collar. Finally, the blindfold was put over her eyes. Eight girls were identically blinded and bound while their eight partners held the other end of the leash. Jane shuddered, remembering Katy.

"Now, your partner is going to lead you around through an obstacle course. You have nothing to rely on except your partner to make sure that you make it through successfully without stumbling. Your partner is not allowed to touch you or speak to you. All she can do is use the leash to guide you."

Jane wondered what they were waiting for. They were already helpless, and in more trouble than the other seven could begin to guess. They seemed to be taking things a small step at a time, for some reason.

Jane felt a sense of dread at the so called challenge. There was a threat of danger and vulnerability, yet she was supposed to think she was in friendly hands. Then, she felt a tug on her collar and stepped forward to follow Cassie.

It wasn't hard to figure out what Cassie wanted her to do as she was guided right and left through, she assumed, some obstacles. Though the girls weren't allowed to talk, it wasn't quiet as there was constant giggling going on. An occasional "oops' told her that some of the girls were not finding it as easy as she was. The final obstacle was a set of stairs. It was more of a challenge as she felt something block her foot and had to figure out that she had to step up. Cassie took her up slowly and she managed it without falling. After four steps, they stopped. She felt her leash fall down as Cassie let go and waited patiently for Cassie to drop the other shoe.

It was only about 15 seconds before she heard one girl say, "Where'd you go, Sally?" A few second later another said, "You gonna take off my blindfold or what?" Jane started to become impatient as more seconds passed. She guessed that the delay was intended to put them even more off balance. She played along, not needing to fake the anxiety in her voice as she asked "Cassie?". "Hey, guys, this isn't funny," said a voice a few feet away from her. Jane was starting to realize that the girls were scattered all over the courtyard as she heard voices from both sides and in front of her, some more distant than others.

The other girls' anxiety was eased when each felt her partner touch her shoulder. Jane's was just deepened. Jane heard Cassie softly say, "Open wide, I have a goodie for you." She shuddered, then opened her mouth wondering what "treat" would be inserted. She was afraid it would either be a gag or some kind of drugs. She was surprised by the size of it. It was round and about the size of a small apple. When she tried to bite down, she couldn't. It was in her mouth too far, but she couldn't push it out either. Cassie was tying a rope behind her head that seemed to hold the ball in her mouth somehow. She couldn't speak with the ball in her mouth, but grunted and moaned her displeasure with the odd feeling.

From her reading, she had a pretty good idea what it was. That seemed to confirm her other suspicions. She was in deep trouble.

A few seconds later, Cassie removed Jane's blindfold. The bound girl blinked in the sudden sunlight and found herself standing on a 4' high platform. As her eyes adjusted, she saw the other seven girls standing on seven identical platforms arranged in a circle. There were a series of surprises, each one building on the other. Cassie and the other leaders were all dressed now in tight leather pants and leather bikini tops.

Her immediate thought was how lame it was of them to get dressed in such stereotyped outfits while their prisoners were still nude. The counselors were dressed the same way, making her feel like she was in some cheesy BDSM kiddy porn movie. Or maybe a live performance for some hidden audience.

From looking at the other surprised girls, she discovered that the thing in her mouth was a red rubber ball... A ball gag, just as she had figured.

The next surprise was when Ms. Christopher said, "Welcome to Camp Courage, slave bitches. You have been sent here by your parents to learn discipline and learn the art of sexually pleasing another person. Your partners have been sent here by their parents to learn how to dominate a slave." She paced around the circle as she spoke. Around her the other girls moaned in shock and denial. Who could believe their parents had sent them here for this?

Jane could. But she couldn't figure why. They didn't need the money, she was sure of that. So they probably hadn't sold her to slavers. Unless one of those slimeballs they did things with found a way to force them. Blackmail? Maybe it was just some new "kink" of theirs? Either way, she didn't think she would wind up dead. At least not yet. She only wished she could feel as sure of that as she thought she was. The only question was whether she would eventually go home or end up like Katy was supposed to.

Jane looked around for a way down from the platform, but the stairs had been removed. She considered jumping, as she had seen the dressed girls do, but with her hands cuffed she felt off balance. She also realized she couldn't open a door, and there was no place she could run to in the courtyard.

The head counselor stopped in front of one of the bound girls, "Ashley told me that you don't want her to be your partner." She laughed. "Our little slave girls don't get a choice of who their mistress is, but I'm sure you'll learn just how displeased Mistress Ashley is with you for insulting her."

Ms. Christopher walked around the circle again. "During most of the year, we train adults, but in the summer we hold two sessions for young girls. You can see now why our camp group is small. Not many parents want their girls to go through this training, but you are the lucky eight this time."

Stopping in front of Jane, the head counselor said, "Cassie told me you were pumping her for information about the camp. Maybe you thought there would be swimming and hiking and games? Now you can see why you didn't know what was planned. Would you have come if you knew that within an hour of arrival you'd be standing helpless, tied, and naked waiting for your mistress to give you a command?"

Controlling her urge to lash out, in her fear and anger, Jane slowly shook her head. She was outraged, humiliated, and frightened as she stared down at the leering woman. She looked over at Cassie, who was standing slightly behind the counselor. Cassie had a smirk on her face that made Jane shiver.

"You may doubt that your parents have really placed you in this charm school for slave girls, but believe me, every one of your parents is very aware of what is happening and we have their full consent for any and everything we do to you. Watch," said Ms. Christopher as she waved her hand at a blank wall.

A picture leaped onto the wall from a hidden projector, showing a naked couple. "Hi, Lauren," said the woman. "Mommy and daddy want you to know that you're done being a spoiled brat. When you're done with camp, you'll do everything that we tell you. We're looking forward to watching you do this to daddy." With that, the woman knelt and sucked her husband's cock into her mouth. The man said, "So you behave yourself and pay attention to what they are going to teach you. Mommy is tired of being my only cocksucker and when you get home it will be your job, too."

If that girl was going home, they all probably were. That limited the extent to which her captors would injure her. And she was more confident that they would avoid actually killing her. That left her free to act.

One of the girls (Jane assumed it was Lauren) was sobbing halfway through the short movie. She shook her head in disbelief, watching her mother and father in shock and then looking around the courtyard with wild and frightened eyes. Jane's attention was drawn to another of her fellow slaves who had moved to the edge of her platform and looked ready to jump. One of the counselors moved quickly and was standing right in front of the girl. "If you jump down from there, you and your bare ass belong to me," said the woman as she brandished a leather riding crop. The girl backed away.

One by one each of the girls watched as their parents appeared on the wall and assured them that this was no mistake. Jane was hardly shocked at the common sight of her parents naked. She had seen them that way before, but now she could see in no uncertain terms that her father was well hung and her mother had a great figure. "Jane, honey, your daddy and I have always been very open about sex, enjoying different partners, positions, and fetishes. Most of all we like bondage and discipline. You've been such a prude around the house that we decided the only way to break you in right is to send you to this camp for a month's worth of training. We know that when you come back to us, you'll be a hot little cocksucking, pussy licking sex slave instead of a prudish little girl. David's camp is just like this, so he's getting training, too. When you get home, the two of you can play together."

That settled it. She would go home, alive and relatively intact. It also meant that her parents were no longer her real parents. She would no longer call them Daddy or Mom. She no longer had anything to lose. They would hurt her - probably a lot - physically and emotionally in this prison. But nothing excessive and permanent. Nothing that could send Social Services after her parents.

When Katy's parents had been on a two week trip, she was kidnapped by her own babysitter, and taken to a gang to be trained as a slave and then sold for drug money. But she had an advantage - her father's clinical work. She knew what those bikers were going to do (in general), and what they would try to accomplish, including making it look like each girl was a runaway by photographing her - alive and apparently well - somewhere far from the town. She also knew how to make it fail. And it had succeeded so well that the babysitter panicked and took her back home. And then to the doctor's. And then she apparently disappeared.

It was summer vacation, and Jane's parents hadn't thought too much about the amount of time Jane had started spending at Kate's, including sleepovers. They had asked about boys being there, and almost seemed disappointed when she had told them Kate was too sick for that. Even if they had wanted them.

She just never got around to telling them why Katy was so sick.

The time she spent there had been an education. While Jane nursed her friend back to health, Katy had, in turn, told her about the things that were done to her and her fellow captives. Then she taught Jane how to fake a psychotic break so well that it effectively was real. She also taught her how she had effectively foiled their sexual plans. It was disgusting, and went against things she had been taught her entire life, but she learned. But there was another effect of that. It colored her reactions every time she thought about sex. Any kind of sex.

Shock or not, she knew what she had to do. She let her eyes glaze over, more than they already were. She chose her mantra, the deliberately ambiguous "All gone". She started repeating it over and over again, even though it came out as little more than a hum around the ball gag. She swayed a little with the chant, deepening the self hypnosis which would help her do what was necessary. It would remind her of a core truth. Her life, as she had known it, was completely destroyed. Any trust and feelings she had for her parents had been shattered by that stunning act of betrayal. If she did return home, it would be with enough leverage to control them or destroy them. Her brother had no defenses against what they would do to him. He would return a stranger.

And she would change. She could control that, somewhat. But she would never again be the normal young teenager she had been only hours before. They were trying to make her a slave, but she would go back rather the opposite.

The other films, with the other parents saying much the same thing, played out. If possible, she needed to get those films before she left. Or at least copy them.

Drool was still seeping out of the corner of her mouth. By now it was down her chin, dripping on her chest and onto the wooden platform under her. She tried to swallow, but couldn't, then looked around at the other girls to see that they were in the same plight. Then, Ms. Christopher called out, "Young mistresses, come with me." She and the eight mistresses-in-training left the courtyard. The eight slaves were left with the four other counselors.

That was her cue. She collapsed on the platform, folding in a sort of rag doll flop to a sort of sitting position with her face on the platform. Then she surrendered all control of her bodily functions, covering herself in her own wastes. Then came the hardest part. She rubbed her bare pussy in it, trying to get as much waste, and dirt from the platform, up inside her vagina as she could without being obvious. While she was doing that, she flopped her face around. That served two purposes. One, it distracted attention from what was going on at the other end.

Just as importantly, it allowed her to use her teeth to painfully gouge the inside of her lower lip. She would make that pain the center of her universe, leaving no room for anything less than immediately life threatening injury. It was a matter of attention. No matter how much pain they inflicted on her - and they would -the pain in her lip would make it seem insignificant. She would have preferred to bite the inside of her cheek, making it harder to treat, but the ball gag prevented that. She also would have liked to swallow the mixture of spit and blood filling her mouth, but the gag made that impossible as well.

One of the counselors, a slender blond woman named Paula, had started ordering her to stand and hitting her with a leather strap. she was so focused on the pain in her lip and her retreat from the world that she barely noticed it. She did use it as an excuse to grind her sex into the fouled platform some more, in the guise of reflexive reactions to the blows. But she made no move to protect herself or get away from the blows.

She had used the self hypnosis to assure that, if she passed out, fell asleep, or was knocked out, she would return to that state as soon as she started to wake up. And that she would remember what she was doing and why. Later, when she was free to act, she would remember who had abused her.

Two of the other come over to check on the situation, while the fourth continued to patrol the platforms. They tried slapping her and hitting her in sensitive places with their straps, but she barely noticed. They tried pinching even more sensitive places, with a similar lack of effect. With all her attention on the now-bleeding injury to the inside of her lip, she barely even noticed the filthy splinters cutting and penetrating her labia. She knew that concentrating down there would play into their hands, so she kept her painful attention on her lip.

Paula sent one of them inside to get Ms. Christopher, and the other back to her rounds of the slaves. While they were gone, Paula started talking to her. "I know you're faking it, you little cunt. You think we haven't seen that before? We know how to handle fakers. The longer you try to fool us, the worse the pain is going to get." Getting no response, she shifted to the more usual routine. "You got a nice, tight ass there, bitch. Can't wait to see it spanked." Jane just continued rocking and chanting. There was no room in her world for the woman's words. "I'd love to suck on those little girl titties of yours," got no more response. "We're all gonna watch you lose your cherry, bitch." Jane knew better. No one would touch her now, other than to clean her, and if this continued to the next day, no one would get anywhere near her pussy, except maybe a doctor or nurse. She continued chanting and rocking.

The next tests would be more exacting, if her guess was right. Ms. Christopher would know what to look for, and even then she wouldn't be convinced. But the tests were not important. Unlike the first few minutes, she was no longer acting. While she could get herself out of it again with her special trigger, and remember everything that happened, to all intents and purposes she really was in the middle of a severe psychotic break. She would pass the tests, but they still would not believe. Then it would get interesting.

Ms. Christopher arrived a few minutes later, with a folder in her hand. The other counselor apparently remained behind with the would be mistresses. She looked at Jane, then looked through the folder. "None of the risk factors are there, She has to be faking it." She unfolded the stairs and, together with Paula, climbed to the platform. Jane just kept up with her muffled mantra, moving her collapsed body slightly to the chant. The two women took hold of her arms and none too gently raised her to her feet. When they released her, she stood there, chanting and swaying. She knew that was the first test. If she had just collapsed again, they would have known she was faking.

Next came the eye tests. She couldn't do anything about the reactions of her pupils, but she didn't want to anyway. She just let her eye muscles relax, defocussing her eyes, and held to the thought there was nothing worth seeing. When the light moved side to side, she ignored it.

When they unlocked the cuffs and tried the arm test, she was ready. It was testing the same kind of catalepsy that hypnotherapists use, so her self hypnosis was more than up to the task. Someone faking it would let the arm fall loosely when released. And someone faking it with hypnosis would suppress reflexive muscle reactions to painful stimuli, or would over react to them. She did neither. Nor did she resist or react when they re-cuffed her.

On the other hand, she also did not respond to spoken suggestions, commands, or threats. That was another mistake casual fakes make. The commands were like some tv show you were not really watching, far away people talking to someone else. There was no room for them in a world filled with the chant and the mouth pain.

In short, every test in the book, and several that would never make it into any legitimate text, showed the same thing. In the words of her still-muffled chant, she was "all gone".

They tried slapping her, but that just turned her head from side to side. They tried smelling salts, but with the hypnosis she just smelled flowers. Every thing they tried helped her go deeper and deeper into that other world.

About an hour after the first collapse, Cassie and the other mistress trainees returned. While none of the other victims were covered with blood or wastes, the other seven were standing in large puddles of drool.

Ms. Christopher stopped Cassie and spoke quietly with her, while Paula remained with Jane. The eight would be mistresses had just received an hour of training in how to establish control over their slave, but that wasn't extensive enough to cover a situation like Jane. While they were talking, the other seven unfolded stairs from the platforms and mounted them to take positions beside their captives. They said something and then removed the gags. Some of the victims were whipped with riding crops right away, some not.

Cassie mounted the platform and waved Paula away. Jane continued to chant and sway, apparently oblivious. It seemed that Cassie was going to try and follow the script, after all.

"I'm going to take out your gag now, Jane bitch," she said. "That's just so you can swallow your spit and blood instead of making a mess. Don't say a word, understand me, bitch?"

Jane continued to chant and sway, apparently oblivious. Cassie waited a moment for a response, then smacked Jane's bare ass with her riding crop. "I said, do you understand me, bitch?"

Ms. Christopher tapped Cassie's leg to get her attention. When Cassie bent down to listen, the head counselor said, "You shouldn't have repeated the question. Do you know why?"

Cassie thought briefly before answering. "Yes, Ms. Christopher," said Cassie, in an almost military tone. "I allowed the question to get in the way of following through on my stated intention."

"That is correct, Mistress Cassie," said Ms. Christopher. "You'll confuse the slave if you aren't consistent."

Jane realized that the way they were talking was intended to dehumanize her more, but she ignored it. She just kept chanting and rocking.

"When I ask you a direct question, you will answer me. I told you not to speak, didn't I, bitch?"

"All gone," Jane replied, continuing to rock.

Cassie swatted her harder on her butt with the riding crop, then turned to Paula. "Have you ever seen such a stupid and disobedient slave?"

"I've seen people try to fake it before. Maybe she thinks we'll fall for it and let her go home untrained."

Jane felt vaguely annoyed at being addressed as if she wasn't even there. It reminded her of how someone might treat a dog. And she was sure it was deliberate. Her mouth was sore and she was still in shock over the sudden turn of events. Her summer camp had turned into a summer nightmare.

Next to her, a petite blond was arguing with her mistress and getting repeatedly spanked. It was a test of wills with the slave's voice rising in anger and then pain until she finally stopped, only able to sob. The whole time the young mistress showed remarkable restraint, speaking firmly, but never raising her voice. Now, she spoke in a quiet, soothing voice as she gently rubbed her slave's tender, red ass.

A girl across the circle got Jane's attention as she spoke to her mistress. "I need to go to the bathroom," she said.

"Did I tell you that you could speak?" snapped her mistress, smacking the poor slave's thighs.

"But, really, you have to let me go to the bathroom, don't you?" insisted the slave. She was rewarded with several more smacks on her thighs and buttocks. She pursed her lips in anger and muttered, "I'm going to pee myself right here, then."

"Don't you dare," said the mistress. "You'll hold it until I decide you can go to the bathroom. Stand up straight and stop crossing your legs. You stand there without a sound." The mistress spanked her slave several times.

Cassie tried to make Jane perform several simple acts. Jane knew from her research that the whole point was to get the new slave used to following commands, doing exactly what she was told, but only what she was told. While she just chanted and swayed, she saw other slaves carrying out trivial commands. "Hop up and down, turn around, stick out your tongue, wiggle your butt," said the mistresses, delighted in their new power over those girls.

After ten more minutes of fruitless commands and beatings, Paula took Cassie aside and quietly suggested they try something from real animal training. They needed something simple, that they could force Jane to do without hurting her. Cassie chose spreading her legs. She would say "spread!", and they would immediately pull her legs apart. They would repeat that ten times, then see whether the command had any effect.

They either didn't think Jane could hear them, or didn't care. She let them play their game, making sure they did not disrupt her chanting and swaying. That might make them think they were making some progress. She also made sure she separated their meaningless barks from their actions in her mind. And then, on the ninth try, she peed again. Not much, just what she had built up since her earlier collapse. But it was enough get both of her abusers wet.

Other mistress trainees laughed derisively at Cassie's plight. Jane just kept chanting and swaying. Ms. Christopher came over and told them to take Jane inside and clean her up.

"Come on," Cassie snapped, as she picked up the leash. "We have a special punishment for bad girls who pee themselves." She pulled on the leash to get Jane headed for the stairs. Jane left her feet in place and started to fall toward Cassie. Cassie and Paula caught her and set her on her feet again. Then, with one of them on each arm, they marched her across the platform and down the stairs.

She was taken to the side of the main building, and stopped near a faucet and garden hose. Jane noticed that the area smelled like one of those dog walks areas in the parks. She was put up against the building, facing the wall, and the hose was turned on. Cassie used the hose, with its spray attachment, to blast most of the body wastes off of Jane. She unwittingly helped Jane's plan when she sprayed between her legs, pushing more of her poop up inside her vagina then rinsing away some of the outward signs of it. She was turned around, and had the fronts of her legs and feet hosed off.

She was led inside and taken to the infirmary. There, she was strapped down to something like a towel covered examination table. Her arms were strapped above her head, and her legs were strapped into adjustable stirrups.

The staff of the slave camp had learned long ago that the act of urinating in public was a demeaning and critical step in slave training. It was important because it emphasized to the slave that she was at the mercy of her mistress and even the most basic of bodily functions needed her permission. Second, it had the effect of making the slave feel like an animal. When she finally did break down and pee, the slave saw it as her own fault, her own weakness, and so she humiliated herself in public. Other humiliating acts would come easier now. So, the new slaves would stand on their platforms until each of them had embarrassed themselves by peeing themselves.

But Jane had preempted all of that, at least in her own case. And she had probably weakened it in the cases of the other girls. She had voided herself, both ways, in public, and she didn't seem to care. And, especially the second time, she had done so in a way that clearly showed that her "mistress" had no control over it, either.

Worse, from the camp's viewpoint, she had done so in front of the other slaves. Instead of becoming an act of public humiliation, it became an act of defiance - a way to strike back at their abusers that could not be stopped by handcuffs or gags. It would be embarrassing, and they would be punished, but it would also cause their mistresses to lose face in front of the counselors and their peers. Once it started to sink in that they would be punished anyway, and that they would not be allowed a bathroom break any time soon, there was very little down side. They didn't even have to worry about wet clothes.

This could set the program back considerably.

Before the staff could switch to the backup plan, two of the more vocal slaves - the one who had threatened it before and the petite blond, had also peed on their mistresses. And had not stopped on command. As their mistresses spanked them and led them away, Ms. Christopher called out, "Young mistresses, come with me." She and the remaining mistresses-in-training left the courtyard.

For the short time they were gone, a couple of girls tried to lure one of the counselors close enough to present a target, but none succeeded.

When they returned, each girl went to her slave. They praised them for behaving so well when the others had misbehaved, then led them inside. Once inside, they were given bathroom breaks. Then they were led into a classroom and allowed to sit and rest on hard wooden benches with their backs to the door while their mistresses appeared to argue over which slave had done the best so far. After a few minutes of that, the room was darkened and the mistresses-in-training were called away. One of the counselors stayed and watched the five girls. After a while, another counselor came and took her place.

When the two who had managed to nail their mistresses were led inside, they were first allowed a bathroom break. Then, they were tied with their hands over their heads, legs spread, and standing on their tiptoes. It was an uncomfortable position and they couldn't get relief no matter what they tried. They hung there until their mistresses came in to get them, about an hour later.

In the infirmary, as they were cleaning Jane, Cassie, Paula, and the nurse talked about breaking her fraud. She was pretty sure the talk was staged, since they were talking about things that would definitely leave permanent injuries, and couldn't be passed off as routine summer camp injuries. There may have been a bit of venting their frustration in that, too.

She was only a little more worried when Ms. Christopher joined the conversation. "We'll have to kill her. It has been more than three years since there was a significant 'accident' here, so we're doing better than other camps anyway. And it is too dangerous to let her go. She knows too much about the camp, and she isn't trained enough to keep her mouth closed."

Jane noticed that there was no debate, no hesitation, as she continued to chant and rock. This was another test. She had already set her pattern for eating and drinking, and wouldn't change it. And even if they did do it, her parents wouldn't dare keep David in camp. It would look too suspicious. And her tortures would be over.

They waited until her mouth was open for the chant, then pushed something past her lips. She bit down, as though trying to eat it. She knew that the training was likely to involve people putting body parts in her mouth sooner or later, and this response pattern would discourage that.

While she didn't make much headway on it, she recognized it as the nipple of a sports bottle. She also felt liquid squirt into her mouth. She didn't allow herself to taste it, but suspected it was 'flavored' water. She ground her teeth, as though attempting to saw off a piece. When she opened her teeth as though to make another attempt to bite off a chunk, the nipple was withdrawn. She 'chewed' the water, then swallowed it. "All gone."

Three more bites of water, and she felt the nipple give way a little. Next came something fairly flat, about the size and shape if a small spinach leaf. She allowed her body to follow the same bite, chew, swallow pattern automatically. A variety of sizes, shapes, and textures followed, with the same results. She was pretty sure that some of it was raw meat, and she recognized the texture of an onion among the others. She still felt fine, but suspected that would not last.

After a few more odds and ends, she felt her stomach start to spasm. There was some pain, but it was like nothing against the all consuming lip pain at the center of her universe. She let her body react however it would, as she rocked and chanted. She remembered a line from one of her history classes - "Give me liberty, or give me death." She was not particularly comforted by the notion that the speaker got the latter.

Soon, she voided at both ends, leaving them to clean her up again while she continued her chant. Ironically, by being so completely vulnerable and lost, she was virtually invulnerable to their tactics. They could still hurt her, but they couldn't train her or warp her sexuality. She had called their bluff, again.

They gave her something round and chalky, which she automatically chewed and swallowed. She suspected it was intended to settle her stomach. That was followed by more water, and a bit of plastic when she succeeded at biting off the sports bottle nipple.

Ironically, just before their staged murder attempt, her stomach had started to tell her it was lunchtime. There was no mention of lunch while she was there.

Just after they started the second cleaning, Cassie left. After cleaning her, the nurse swabbed something which stung something awful over her bruised and torn labia. She didn't seem to remove any splinters, and Jane wondered whether she had even seen them. She then spread a bitter tasting gel over the inside of Jane's savaged lip. It stung at first, then numbed the area and stopped the bleeding. Jane was prepared for that, and concentrated on the sensations as though they were pain. As soon as she had a chance, she would bite the inside of her cheek. They might know she had done it later, or might suspect they had missed it with all the other problems. When they were finished, they released her hands and upper torso, then carefully held her while moving her to a sitting position and recuffing her hands behind her.

They then released her legs, and moved her off the table so she was standing on the floor. Paula took her arm and led her to a darkened classroom with five of the naked girls in it. She left her there, standing next to a bench, and went out the door. Jane just stood there, chanting and rocking.

Some time later, two counselors came in and turned on the lights. Each of the three counselors took the arms of two of the slaves and then they marched them to a room where the other two girls had been tied up. They were still tied with their hands over their heads, legs spread, and standing on their tiptoes. Some of the girls gasped or shook when they saw them. They barely had time to really take in the sight, when they heard the noise of people approaching.

When Cassie and the other girls returned though, they talked about the wonderful meal they'd just enjoyed, never once even suggesting that the slaves might be hungry as well.

One of the slaves ventured a question, "When do we get to eat?"

"Emily, you bitch!" said her mistress, striding purposefully across the room and whipped her errant slave. "Now I have to go first. If you can't keep your mouth shut, then..." She stuffed a ball gag into Emily's mouth, leaving the slave whimpering. Jane figured Emily was about 11 years old based on the fact that she had no tits or hair on her pussy. She felt sorry for the younger girl.

After the two were taken down, all eight slaves forced to drink a quart of water each. The camp staff knew it was important to keep the girls hydrated. Most of the slaves could only think about how much they would have to pee soon.

The eight slaves were walked into a room with two benches in it, and released from their handcuffs. They sat four across on each bench. The benches were unpadded and the girls had to press tightly together to all fit on a bench. For the next hour, they received instruction on camp rules. There were so many rules that Jane didn't think anyone could remember them all. She recognized the tactic from her reading. Present so many complex rules so quickly, and no one will be able to absorb them all. Then, when they get punished for breaking one of those rules (which it was impossible to avoid), the victim thinks in terms of a failure on her part. And the victimizers can then use the rules to justify just about anything.

Jane already knew that she was going to get spanked a lot. So she just kept rocking and chanting, ignoring the whole thing.

During the class, Emily sat next to Jane, drooling on her own chest. The drool ran down her stomach and into her bare pussy slit. Apparently there was not a rule against drooling. Again she felt sorry for the younger girl.

Everything that should have been working together to make Jane a well-trained slave, without her even aware of the changes taking place, had gone wrong. Jane didn't care if she face the same embarrassing punishment that Emily was taking right now, so she continued to talk, or rather chant, out of turn. As an older girl, she felt she ought to keep her chin up and set a good example for the younger girls. But she felt it was even more important to get herself out of there and into a position to rescue them. Her pity for Emily made her subconsciously resolve not only to resist her mistress, but also to encourage the younger ones to follow suit and keep that vital spark of who they really were. At least until she could get them rescued. So she chanted and rocked, concentrated on the new pain in her cheek, and survived her punishments.

To Jane's surprise, there was a bathroom break following the lecture. It wasn't very dignified since the slaves had to pee in the grass outside the dining hall. But, at least they didn't get punished for it. The counselor pushed on Jane's abdomen, over her bladder, until she started peeing. This was followed by more water and then their mistresses rejoined them in the courtyard.

The morning lecture for the mistresses had taught them how to be stern and how to use punishment. The afternoon lecture, from which they had just returned, was how to reward their slave for good behavior.

When Cassie approached her slave, she had a smile on her face. "There's my pretty girl," she said to Jane. "You were such a good girl when we were cleaning you off this morning." She caressed Jane's cheek and scratched her under her chin just like she was petting a dog.

Jane didn't miss the comparison, but was in no position to complain. She warily allowed her would be mistress to treat her like her pet. She knew Mistress Cassie's behavior was a trick to keep her off balance.

"Let's get my good girl ready for her afternoon training," said Cassie. She was wearing a fresh set of the tight black leather pants and leather bra while Jane was still nude. She held out a pair of handcuffs. "Put your hands behind your back and let me put these on you." Cassie said it pleasantly, but Jane could see her would be mistress also had a riding crop with her. Jane just stood there, rocking and chanting, ignoring everything outside of her world of pain and concentration.

Cassie allowed a brief frown to color her face, then smiled. She turned the unresisting Jane around, and handcuffed her again. "Oh, my beautiful girl," said Cassie. "You are such a good slave this afternoon. I am so proud of you." She again stroked Jane's face and then ran her hand through Jane's short brown hair. Jane jumped when she felt Cassie's hand on her bare back. The hand slid all the way down to just above her bare ass. "You have beautiful skin," said Cassie.

"Turn and face me now," said Cassie. When Jane merely stood there, chanting and swaying, Cassie took her arm and turned her around. She touched her throat and gently caressed her slave there. Jane ignored Cassie's hand as it went lower. When Cassie brushed Jane's breasts and said, "Your titties are so cute and touchable," Jane thought about her training. In this state, with her concentration on her pain and so on, her nipples would remain flat and unresponsive. There was nothing relevant to respond to. It was warm, she was in pain, and there was nothing erotic about the situation. Cassie soon discovered the lack of response, and moved on to other things.

The mistresses took the girls outside to the courtyard where they had exercised after their showers.

Jane then ignored Cassie's instructions as she was told to hop, prance, walk this way, turn here, and other silly acts. She just stood there, chanted, and swayed. She tried the "spread!" command, and nothing happened. Cassie pushed her down to her knees, then told her to raise her left foot. Jane just chanted and swayed.

Cassie went back to trying the animal training trick. This time, she tried to build a command to have her lift her foot. There were a lot more repetitions, and she was carefully positioned so that Cassie could not become a target again. After a while, she started hearing other mistresses announcing that they were very proud of their slave girls for something. With each announcement, Cassie got more and more upset, though she worked hard not to show it.

Around them, Jane had noticed that some of the girls were cooperating and some were fighting with their mistresses. As the afternoon wore on, cooperation became the norm and eventually all the other mistresses had announced their pride in their slaves.

It was late afternoon and starting to get chilly as the final outdoor activity began. Emily's mistress, Alice, pulled Emily into the center of the group. "My slave embarrassed me today by asking for food. As you learned this afternoon, you will get food when we decide you have deserved it. Because my little bitch Emily spoke out of turn and asked for food, we will go first." Mistress Alice then removed her leather bra. "Suck my nipples, Emily my bitch," she said.

Emily looked like she was ready to cry, but she wasn't about to disobey again. She took a deep breath and leaned forward to place her lips on her mistress' flat chest. Tentatively she licked each of the nipples. "Suck them, I said," repeated Alice. Emily started sucking on the tiny nipples until they were hard as a rock. She stopped and looked up at Alice. "Did I say stop?" asked Alice. Hastily Emily returned to sucking. A few seconds later, Mistress Alice said, "Stop now, Emily."

As Emily straightened up, Alice asked her, "Did you enjoy that?"

Emily froze. What should she answer? She figured she should not insult her mistress, so she said, "Yes, Mistress Alice."

"Don't lie to me," snapped her 11-year-old mistress. "You didn't like it, did you?"

Emily was petrified. Was it bad to lie or bad to insult her mistress? She said, "No, Mistress Alice."

"I don't care," said Alice. "I liked it, so you'll do it whenever I ask." With that, she led Emily from the center. Emily was just happy that she wasn't being punished for lying.

When it was Jane's turn, Ms. Christopher announced that it was getting late, and directed them inside. As the others moved away, she stopped Cassie and quietly said that it would have been too dangerous.

After that embarrassment, the slaves were taken into the dining hall. Ms. C announced that their mistresses would now feed them. Jane noticed that she was left with her wrists bound, so she wouldn't be able to feed herself.

The young mistresses disappeared for a few minutes and then returned. Cassie offered an uncooked hotdog to Jane. Even in her world of pain and concentration, she was hungry and ready to eat anything. But first, Cassie said, "Don't bite on it. Just suck it." She slid the hotdog into Jane's mouth. Jane ignored the instructions as always, and let her automatic eating process run.

Warily, Cassie slid the end of the hot dog into her mouth. as soon as she felt it pass her teeth, she bit it off. As she chewed and swallowed, she noticed the way the other girls were sliding the hot dogs in and out of the slaves' mouths. The sexual metaphor was not lost on her, and she hoped the sexual metaphor of her actions were not lost on Cassie and the others.

Cassie then let Jane take small bites until it was all gone. She all but threw the last piece in her mouth, to keep from getting her fingers bitten.

Finished with that, Cassie said, "Do you want another hotdog?"

Jane just said "All gone" and swayed.

Cassie surprised her slave by standing up and pulling down her pants. Without taking her eyes off her slave, Cassie put two fingers in her pussy and pulled out another hotdog. She smiled wickedly as she said, "Here you go, slave bitch."

Jane just continued chanting and swaying.

"Take the hotdog into your mouth and hold it for me," said Cassie.

When Cassie put it in her mouth, she bit and chewed as always.

"Oh, shit," said Cassie. "After I praised you all afternoon, you've forgotten how to be a good girl? I'm going to have to punish you now and I'll have to withhold any praise all day tomorrow, won't I?"

"All gone," came Jane's singsong reply.

Cassie put the hotdog down on the table and pulled up her pants.

"You'll have to be spanked now, but if you're good, I might be nice to you tomorrow. Understand?"

"All gone..." Jane singsonged, and continued doing so as she received five swats across her helpless ass. With her world centered on the pain in her cheek, which was aggravated each time the swollen tissue got in the way of her teeth, she barely noticed them. They certainly weren't important enough to interrupt her chant. Only biting, chewing, and swallowing food was important enough to do that. Later, when she was away from this place, other things would be important.

Finished with the punishment, Cassie retrieved the hotdog and let Jane eat it bite by bite. The young mistress then gently brushed Jane's hair and said, "That wasn't so bad, was it, my good girl?"

"All gone," said Jane.

Jane saw one of the other slaves stand up, then heard her recite, "Yum, yum, yummy, I've got my mistress' juice in my tummy. The hot dog was delicious, er, delishisy?... The hot dog was delishisy, it tasted just a little fishy. Hope you all enjoy yours, too, there's nothing like a little goo. Tomorrow when she wants me to eat her, I'll do it right away 'cause she's sweeter."

Cassie seemed reluctant, almost jealous, as she joined in with the applause from the other mistresses. The applause was for the mistress, not the reciting slave. In theory, she'd gotten her slave girl to finish eating the two hotdogs first. Cassie was upset because Jane had actually finished first, but there had been no way to get her to recite the victory poem. She struggled not to show it.

"She wasn't the best slave girl. I know my pretty girl finished first. But all those words were too hard for her." said Cassie. She was behind Jane, petting her slave's hair. Then, she reached in front of Jane and cupped her slave's breasts. The 13-year-old ignored the attentions of her would be mistress. She wanted to leave. And she knew that the only way to do that was to continue to chant and sway, and concentrate on the pain in her cheek. So she ignored Cassie' hands while the other girl fondled her tits and pinched her nipples to try and get them hard. Like before, Jane knew they would stay flat and soft.

Jane watched as other girls argued with their mistresses and were scolded, berated, and spanked. She felt sorry that she couldn't help them... yet. But as long as some part of them could put up such a fight, they would have a chance to keep it together until she could come back with help.

With a forced smile, Cassie looked at the nude body of her slave. Jane was completely helpless, but seemed completely untrainable. The smile became genuine as she thought about how she was looking forward to what she knew was to come in the days ahead of them. She ran her hands over Jane's body, making sure she gave attention to the slave's smooth ass and firm tits. She wanted her slave to learn to accept her touch anywhere, but she avoided touching Jane's cunt for now. Cassie gently brushed Jane's hair and caressed her cheeks. Most of the other girls had forced down their second hot dog, and some were now sucking on their mistress' nipples.

Cassie allowed herself a moment of jealousy. Sure, some of the other mistresses had slaves who were fighting them, but they could be controlled and trained with the the standard techniques. Within a few days, they would surrender to the inevitable. And even now, they could be pushed into doing such tasty things. But not hers. Before she really got to try anything with her, she was broken. Nothing seemed to affect her, and she didn't even seem to think. The only break in that damned pattern of repeating "all gone" endlessly and swaying came when something was pressed past her lips. Cassie shuddered at the memory of the water bottle and the breast form, both with their nipples bitten off.

Finally, all the girls had humiliated themselves by eating their second hot dog. They really had no choice; it was just a matter of how much pain they could take before they ate their disgusting meal. Jane found herself and the others being led back into the shower room. She hadn't really taken a good look around before and now she began to realize that it was more than just a shower area. The tiled room was 20' by 40' and only half of the room had showerheads. In the other side of the room, Cassie tied Jane's hands to ropes that hung from the ceiling. Then, while one of the counselors held her arms, Jane felt Cassie remove the cuffs that bound her wrists together.

Though Jane showed no sign of struggling, she was held fast by the counselor. The ropes tied to Jane's hands ran through hooks in the ceiling and then down again. Cassie grabbed the free ends of the ropes and pulled them, raising Jane's hands up over her head quickly. The counselor let go of Jane's hands as they went up and Cassie tied off the rope to a cleat on the wall. With her arms pulled high so that she could barely stand flatfooted, she was even more vulnerable than she had with her hands tied behind her. None of which really mattered to her. Her self induced state left her completely vulnerable anyway.

One by one the other victims were tied in the same fashion.

Then, to her surprise, the young mistresses and the counselors walked away, leaving them alone. Jane used the hypnotic tricks Katy had taught her to ignore her arms, so the only real effect was to limit the range of her swaying. She was facing the far end of the room, as were all the slaves, so she could see the mistresses as they stripped and took hot showers. In a few minutes, the girls turned off their showers and dried themselves. Then, they left the room without so much as a goodbye. The last girl out turned out the light.

The room was pitch black and silent except for the sound of one girl sobbing quietly and Jane's chant. "What's going on?" asked one of the girls. "My arms hurt," said another girl. The crying girl, Lauren, said, "Damn it, I'm hungry, my arms hurt, too, and my butt hurts from all the spanking. I don't want to be here, but..." her voice cracked as she finished, "I can't go home either." The other six girls felt a rush of dismay as they remembered what would be waiting for them at home - parents who were expecting their daughters to be sex slaves.

A couple more of the girls started sobbing, but Jane couldn't see the point of that. She was worried about her little brother as well as herself. It surprised her that she thought of him at all at a time like this. He was her little brat brother and such a pain, but she realized that she really did love her brother despite all the annoying things he did. She started to think of ways to get out of the camp, but she kept coming back to the idea that there was nowhere to go even if she could get free. What she was already doing was her only real chance.

Girls around her started talking about ways to escape. About half the girls were moaning and crying while the other half tried to plan their escape. It always came down to trying to get away at a moment when they were untied. Lauren pointed out that they were always outnumbered and never all untied at the same time. That's when one of the girls hit on the idea of pretending to be sick. "I'll act like I'm having a seizure," said the voice in the dark - Jane couldn't tell who it was. "They'll have to untie me and take me to a doctor."

"It won't work," whined one of the girls. "They don't care about us."

"Shut up!" snapped the other girl. The room was dead silent for a brief moment. "They can't let something happen to us. They'll have to take me to a doctor. You'll see."

"Don't be stupid!" Lauren snapped. "Look at her. She's had worse than a seizure, and she's still here. She was bleeding badly, from both ends, and she's little more than a vegetable. But they kept her here!"

The room stayed silent for a while, all the girls hoping that she was wrong.

One by one, the girls started moaning in pain as their arms hurt more and more. Jane ignored her arms and continued to chant and sway. It seemed like she'd been hanging for hours, but she knew it probably wasn't that long. Jane had already noticed that there was absolutely no light in the room, so even though her eyes were adjusted to the darkness, she could see nothing."How long are they going to leave us here like this?" whined someone in the dark.

There was no answer to that question, just an increase in the moaning and crying. Jane was beginning to think it might be all night long when suddenly brilliant pain filled her head and she had to bite down on her swollen cheek to keep from reacting, as she allowed her eyes to react naturally. All of the other girls squeezed their eyes tightly shut to keep out the dazzling light that suddenly filled the room. The counselors came back into the room. Two of the girls were untied and led away by counselors. When the counselors returned, two more girls were untied and led away. Jane found herself in the third group of girls. As her arms fell to her sides, she was dismayed to find her arms were like lead.

Right behind Jane, the other slave stopped and starting shaking, falling limp in the arms of the two counselors leading her. "Stop it, Roberta," said one of her escorts.

"Unh, unh, unh," said Roberta, shaking violently as she faked a seizure.

Though she couldn't see, Jane heard the sound of a slap behind her. "Shut the fuck up, bitch," said a counselor. "We know you're faking it. The room is bugged. We heard you say you were going to fake a seizure. So stop it or you'll find out how we treat a slave who tries to escape."

Roberta was suddenly silent and Jane felt a cold dread. She had long since realized that these counselors were professionals at training women and girls to be slaves. They'd probably seen every possible escape attempt and every trick in the book. Except hers. From their reactions, she could tell that they did not quite know what to do about her. They had tried a variety of things to break her suspected fakery, but had gotten nowhere. In large part because, in large part, it was real and had been for most of the day.

On the other hand, they had probably dealt with the real thing before. They knew exactly what to test for, and correctly predicted some of her more authentic responses. That should work in her favor.

There was no other way she could outwit them because they would be way ahead of her. She let herself be led until she was standing in front of an open door. She was shoved through the door and into darkness. The door was shut behind her.

Jane walked randomly around in the room, locating a blanket, toilet, and a sink. Figuring that she was being watched, or at least listened to, she ignored them. The floor was hard and smooth. Jane figured it was either ceramic or metal. Probably for ease of cleaning. Either way, it was a little cooler than the air in her cell. She suspected it would provide some degree of relief for the painful burning that had been building up between her legs all afternoon.

She put her back to the wall, and slid down into a position similar to the one she had used on the platform. The one difference was that her head and upper body were not on the floor. Her privates were in close contact with the floor, and she found that her guess had been right about the relief.

She allowed herself to enjoy the exquisite luxury of that relief for a few minutes before doing what she knew she had to do. She shifted her position a little to create a small gap, then emptied herself on the floor. There was a lot of pee, which made sense with all the water they made her drink. It was also less than surprising that she didn't have much else to push out. All she had eaten since the infirmary was the two hot dogs. But she used what she had.

Her body ached, and the smell was terrible, but she drifted off to sleep. She woke up a few times during the night, from what she recognized as fever dreams. Images of burning the office, with the counselors locked inside, alternated with superhero cartoons.

she would have been heartened to hear the meeting the of the mistresses that started while she was hanging in the shower room.

"Young mistresses," began Ms. Christopher, "We are facing some unusual challenges here, and someone has been endangering the entire program. do you know who it is?"

"Mistress Cassie's slave?" volunteered one.

"No. She is a problem, but not a danger to the program." replied Ms. Christopher.

"Mistress Cassie?" asked another. There were snickers from some of the others.

"As a matter of fact, she is the only one of you who it isn't."

The girls reacted as though they had been slapped.

"What is the first rule about the relationship between another mistress and her slave?" Ms. Christopher demanded.

"Do not interfere with the authority of the mistress over her slave."

One of the younger Mistresses spoke up. "But none of us interfered with the authority of Mistress Cassie over her slave."

"Today, the slaves learned a dangerous lesson. Who can tell me what it was?" She looked around the room. Only Mistress Cassie seemed willing, or able, to answer.

Ms. Christopher looked pointedly at each girl, before calling on Mistress Cassie to answer.

"They learned," Cassie answered, "that they can hurt their mistresses, and can break the unity of the mistresses in the process. They learned that they have power over us."

Ms. Christopher paused for a moment to let that sink in. "With the exception of Mistress Cassie, every one of you has interfered with the authority you wield over your slaves. For the entire day, your treatment of Mistress Cassie and each other demonstrated that certain acts of defiance or apparent incompetence on their part can cause the rest of you to turn on her mistress. Each now knows she can hurt her mistress socially and emotionally."

"We had to abort a vitally important exercise this morning as a result. Every one of you will have a harder time with later exercises as a result. If we do not correct this quickly, the young masters will also have such problems when they come here and we go there."

They talked more about showing support for each other and presenting a united front to the slaves. Then she led them through exercises designed to reinforce the lesson.

Finally, Ms. Christopher told them, "The time has come for a frank discussion of the situation faced by Mistress Cassie. Everything we have seen today seems to support the idea that the slave has indeed had a complete breakdown. The screening was supposed to weed out candidates who might have such a reaction. She did not even score as questionable. If this is real, something obviously went wrong with the screening."

"Either way, she presents a perfect example of such a collapse. If you try to go too far, too fast with a fragile slave, that is what you may end up with. If you do, he or she is useless to you. You will be unable to do the necessary training or create the necessary relationship. You do not want that. I will tell you quite frankly that if she has not given herself away during the night or first thing in the morning, she will be sent home with a list of trustworthy medical and psychiatric facilities."

"What about her brother?" Mistress Cassie asked.

"That is none of your concern." Ms. Christopher replied.

"Real or fake, Mistress Cassie has been saddled with an impossible slave. Through no fault of her own, she has faced a challenge far beyond any you are likely to see. Stop and think for a moment about that challenge. A slave who seems impervious to pain or pleasure, does not respond in any way to the spoken word, and who does not seem capable of responses like embarrassment, humiliation, or fear. Or pride or happiness. One who seems completely oblivious to the world outside her own head. So much so that she will face the immediate threat of death or dismemberment without a moment's hesitation."

Ms. Christopher paused for a moment to encourage them to think about the issue.

"Alright, first question: how would you go about getting the slave used to following your commands?" She turned to the leftmost girl. "Mistress Ashley?"

She went through each girl, except Cassie, and got their answers. In each case, it was something Cassie had tried, something the staff had tried, or something that was too likely to cause permanent damage or death. The next question, about the humiliation and self failure of public urination, got the same results. Even the question about how they would get the faker to reveal herself and give up the pretense got the same response. The mistresses-in-training were, however, surprised to hear about the 'poison' test and the results.

"I see. Each one of you has judged Mistress Cassie harshly for her apparent failures with her slave. And expressed that judgment in front of the slaves. Yet none of you can come up with anything better than what she tried."

She then warned them about the reflexive biting pattern. She showed them the breast form and the sports bottle, both with the bitten off nipples. She left it as an exercise for them to think about, as to how to make the various oral exercises meaningful.

They then went on to more routine discussions about the exercises for the next day.

The next morning, bright light and a loud banging awakened Jane. Her programming worked, so she immediately sank back into her breakdown state and remembered why she was that way. She remained where she was. As she waited to see what would happen next, she noticed that she felt weak and feverish.

A small opening in the door appeared and a pair of handcuffs flew in at her. "Put them on, hands behind your back," came Cassie's voice. Jane just ignored them, and her. She didn't even start chanting yet.

Cassie waited a moment then, getting no response, went on. "If someone has to come in there and wrestle you down, think of what your punishment will be like, slave bitch. You can do it the easy way, my precious girl and I'll be so nice to you," she said sweetly, her voice turning hard as she continued. "Or you can do it the hard way and see just how mean I can be when I'm angry."

Jane remained where she was, not even looking toward the door or the handcuffs.

"On the other hand," said Cassie. "See what you're sitting on?"

Without moving, Jane became aware she was sitting on a metal floor. It looked like stainless steel, clean and polished. No wonder it was so cool the night before.

"Think about what happens when I flip this switch out here and 110 volts go into that metal floor."

Jane allowed herself to become aware of the fixtures, without moving. Even the toilet and sink were metal. Suddenly she heard a piercing scream that didn't sound very far away.

"Uh oh," said Cassie with a smile. "Somebody's slave didn't believe them. Do you believe me, bitch?"

Without otherwise moving, Jane prepared to ride out the coming pain. She bit the inside of her cheek and let that pain take its earlier place at the center of her universe.

Cassie flipped the switch on the wall outside the door. Jane distantly noticed the pain in those parts of her in contact with the floor, but it wasn't important. She also noticed the involuntary rippling of her muscles as the current pulsed through them. She involuntarily emptied what little was in her bladder, but otherwise did not respond.

"Did you enjoy that?" asked Cassie.

Jane did not move or respond.

"I did," said Cassie, after a moment. "I like being nice to you, but I almost hope you make me shock you again. That was fun." She moved her face closer to the hole, then suddenly drew it back with a look of alarm and quickly closed the door. Jane assumed she had finally gotten a whiff of the room's outhouse funk.

The hole in the door opened, and a counselor looked in. "Get up, slave!" she yelled. She flipped the switch, watching the results. After an eternal five seconds or so, she turned it off again. Jane distantly noticed that her more recent urine had almost completely evaporated. The counselor kept watching for a couple more moments.

"I can see her breathing," she reported, but I can't tell whether she is conscious." She directed Cassie to put some things on, then opened the door. Three figures were visible in the doorway. One was Cassie, and the other two appeared to be counselors. Cassie and the first counselor walked into the room. Jane noticed they were wearing rubber gloves and shoes along with their usual leathers. The other counselor remained outside.

The two inside the room walked up to Jane and moved to take her arms. She did not move or resist. Truth be known, she wasn't sure she could do anything anyhow, in her weakened condition. "Christ, she's hot!" Chrissie blurted out. The counselor put a bare wrist on Jane's forehead, and quietly agreed.

They decided to go through the motions, with Cassie playing her role and the counselor doing the heavy lifting. They handcuffed Jane again, then walked to the door. Cassie stepped outside and around the door, appearing outside the opening. "Put your face in the hole so I can see you," she said, for form's sake.

The counselor pushed Jane's head through the opening. The young mistress seized Jane's hair and pulled to keep her slave exposed while she snapped a large collar in place with the other hand. When Cassie let go of her hair, Jane discovered that projections on the collar kept her head from pulling back as the counselor inside let go of her.

A part of Jane noted absently that the counselor who had stayed outside was Paula.

Cassie opened the door and Jane stepped forward into the hallway. Cassie stepped out of sight, behind her, and was joined by the 'inside' counselor.

"Crap!" said the counselor, appropriately. She sent Paula to get the nurse, and advised Cassie to leave Jane in place to watch what was going on, but otherwise keep her out of the action. She also had a quiet word with two of the other mistresses in training. In the meantime, Jane started croaking out her "all gone" chant and gently swaying her body.

Jane could not see herself, but later learned what they had seen. Apart from being crusted with the previous night's crap, her pussy and ass were purple and swollen, and leaking an ugly, yellowish discharge.

Jane could see the ass of another slave. It was a small ass with no hips, one of the younger girls. Like Jane, her head was stuck through the hole in her door and her mistress was behind her. It was a very uncomfortable feeling to have Cassie out of sight, her entire body at the mercy of her would be mistress, even knowing that she was not supposed to do anything.

Across the hall, Jane could see Lauren's head sticking out through her door. As she watched, Lauren jumped and grunted in pain. Jane could do nothing but watch as Lauren's mistress whipped her several times.

The little girl ahead of her, Emily, was apparently farther along in the morning's activities than Jane, so the 13-year-old could see a preview of what would have happened to her. She watched with interest as Emily's hands were uncuffed and then her arms were retied. When her mistress was done with her, Emily's arms were much higher on her back, her forearms crossing and tied together. It made Emily's ass even more accessible to her young tormentor.

Counselors wandered up and down the hall, watching the mistresses as they practiced their domination techniques. Sometimes they stopped and gave suggestions or instructions. Now one of them stopped right in front of Jane and bent down face-to-face with her. "You watching little Emily get hers?" asked the woman. "Maryanne is right behind you watching you get yours." Obviously, she hadn't been told what was going on. "Poor little Emily doesn't have anybody to watch, so it's all a big surprise for her." The woman smiled wickedly. "I really like this part. Hope you do, too."

Somehow, Jane was glad she was out of the action.

When Jane could see Emily again, she did a double take. Emily's mistress was sporting a cock and it took Jane a couple of seconds to realize that it was a strap on dildo. Emily's mistress, no bigger than Emily herself, stepped up behind the small girl and shoved her hips forward. Jane could hear Emily's squeal of pain and surprise as the plastic cock sank into her virgin pussy.

Then, Lauren's mistress poked Lauren and Jane could see the expression on the slave's face as her virginity was taken. It was a mixture of pain and horror as Lauren's unseen mistress raped her.

Jane continued her chant through their ordeal, realizing the horrible appropriateness of it.

In a fever inspired shift of attention, Jane suddenly realized that she hadn't even had breakfast yet and wondered if Cassie had.

Emily's ordeal was already over. The fucking had just been enough to take her precious virginity and let her know that she belonged to her mistress. Jane watched Emily's mistress walk around in the door, out of her sight and back into Emily's view.

It wasn't long before Ashley appeared in front of Lauren. Ashley was still dressed in black leather, but with a black strap on dildo protruding from her crotch. "Did you like your fuck, bitch?"

Lauren couldn't take her eyes off the glistening black cock covered with her own juices. Ashley grabbed her hair and pulled her head, forcing Lauren to look into the eyes of her mistress and remember that she'd been asked a question. "No, Mistress Ashley," said Lauren truthfully.

"Too bad," said Ashley. "You're gonna get that every morning. But, now, pretend this cock is a hot dog, bitch, and suck on it." Ashley pushed the cock at Lauren's mouth and Lauren opened wide, taking it into her mouth. Like the fucking she'd just received, the blow job didn't last very long, just long enough to let Lauren know her place.

The mistresses disappeared one by one, leaving the slaves standing helplessly in the hallway. Jane discovered that her door was locked in position, so that she couldn't step back into her room. When Cassie and the other girls returned, she had two hot dogs in her hand. Jane indifferently realized what her breakfast was going to be and figured she knew where her breakfast had already been. She was surprised when Melanie stepped behind Emily, then slid a long hot dog up Emily's cunt. The length of meat was withdrawn and Melanie went back around front.

About the same time, Ashley appeared in front of Lauren. Lauren looked at Ashley with dismay. "Don't want to eat your own?" teased Ashley.

Ashley turned and traded hot dogs with Emily's mistress. "Here you go, bitch, straight from Emily's hot little snatch." Disgusted, but hungry, Lauren ate the offered meat. "Want another Emily special?" asked Ashley, waving the second hot dog in front of Lauren.

Cassie, who was still waiting for the nurse, wisely decided not to try feeding anything to Jane.

The nurse appeared, along with Ms. Christopher. They had Cassie release Jane's head, then escorted her to the infirmary. En route, they explained the delay to Cassie. Based on Paula's description, the nurse first called Ms. Christopher for a decision, then called one of the trusted doctors they kept on call.

While she was calling the doctor for a camp call, Ms. Christopher was calling Jane's parents and telling them the situation. She encouraged them to leave immediately, promising to call their cell phone when she had more information.

Ms. Christopher explained to Cassie that alternate arrangements would be made for the rest of the week, and after that she would get her own slave again from the boys' camp. Jane heard, and was even more glad than before that she was getting out of there.

When the doctor got there, he briefly reviewed the damage, then recommended immediate hospitalization. Assured that her parents were en route to make arrangements, he reviewed the camp's copy of her medical records, then took a closer look at her. Once he was done, he called her parents and proposed some immediate steps to stabilize her until they arrived. They agreed, and he gave her a high dose antibiotic shot, applied some antibiotic and antifungal cream to her affected areas (the least he had ever enjoyed rubbing such places on a young girl), and a liquid to reduce the fever. He also told them to get her into some adult diapers (they had a large supply, due to some of their even more specialized trainings) and give her family a supply to cover the trip home. He also made sure they would keep her hydrated.

They diapered her, then got her bag and selected some traveling clothes. They selected a skirt to go with the tshirt, to make it easier to access the diaper. They fed her small drinks of water and sports drink from sports bottles which, as before, she kept trying to bite the nipples off of. She was almost out of there, and wasn't going to blow it (or anything else) after all that.

She wasn't sure if it was something the doctor had given her, or just the events in general, but she ended up sleeping for a lot of the time while they waited for her parents.

----

When her parents came to pick her up, she was ready for the next step. She stayed in her altered state until they were down the road and across at least two county lines, far enough that she could be confident the camp didn't own the local police. Then she allowed herself to surface a little more. Her chant changed, to one they would like even less. In a childish singsong, she started repeating "David's gone, they killed him, my parents killed my brother."

They tried to quiet her, but their efforts paled beside those the camp counselors and trainee mistresses had tried unsuccessfully. She had no trouble ignoring them.

She knew what kind of pressure that chant would put on them. Their gas tank was emptying, and their bladders were filling. While they might ignore their hunger for the half day or so it would take to get home, those two things were another matter. And as long as she was chanting that, they couldn't go anywhere that she might be heard. They couldn't gag her, because passing drivers would see. They would have to stop at a self service gas station, and pump the gas while they took turns using the restroom. At least that was how she knew they would see it.

Her diaper gave her more options. If they took too long, she could force the issue by filling it. Even with as much as they were into the kinky stuff, she doubted they could take the smell for too long. And even if they could, it would remind them too much of what they needed to do. She was surprised at how easily those thoughts came.

In the end, it wasn't necessary. She got her father's cell phone while they were at the gas station. Her conversation with Katy was short and to the point. "Katy? The training worked. Camp Courage." She gave her the location from the directions her parents had used. "Not for sale, for the parents. Have someone waiting at our house. If David is not with us when we arrive, ask questions. If he is, talk to me alone. Later. Bye." Throughout the conversation, she kept rocking back and forth in time to to her David song. She tossed the phone back in place, and waited.

Outside the car, her parents had talked themselves into going back for David. There were just too many potential problems with leaving him at camp. Instead of getting his cell phone from the car, they used the one in her purse to call the camp and let them know. After some arguing and negotiating, it was settled.

Seeing that the coast was clear, they took Jane over to the restroom. While her father stood guard, her mother removed her diaper, sat her on the toilet, and told her to go. Jane just sat there and chanted. Her mother tried running some water, which had always worked when she was an infant. It didn't work. Finally, she tried the abdominal pressure trick. Jane let that work, even though it was painful to pee. Her mother patted her dry, put her in a fresh diaper, and adjusted her clothes. Soon they were on the road again.

Jane noticed which direction they were going. But just to be sure, she kept up the chant until they were pulling into the boys' camp.

The way David swaggered back to the car spoke volumes. He wasn't being broken as a slave. He was being trained as a master. In a way, it was a relief. She had been worried about him going through the kinds of hell they tried inflicting on her. On the other hand, she was going to have to break him of the attitude and tricks they had been feeding him.

She switched back to the "all gone" chant as he opened the door. Her parents were relieved about that, but he was clearly annoyed about the whole situation.

She kept it up until they reached about the same place as she changed before. Then she let the rest of the altered state fall away.

As the car took a curve in the freeway, Jane allowed the movement of the car to sway her against her brother. He responded predictably. "I didn't say you could touch me, bit...OW!"

Jane sat up. "Listen up, worm. If you EVER try any of that attitude or any of the little mind games they taught you on me again, I will break more than your finger. I am not playing their little sexual training games. I will do real, permanent, crippling damage." She turned to her parents. "You had better listen to this, too. It is time for the very ugly reality."

"I made a phone call earlier, and as of now I am the only thing standing between you and some very unpleasant living arrangements."

The next parts were bluffs, since she didn't know what Katy could and did arrange. "As of about a half hour before we picked you up, our position has been tracked by the GPS in the cell phones. The same phones that are currently being monitored. There will be a raid on the camp and the offsite offices shortly. If you try to warn them, I will not be able to keep you out of prison. If we do not go straight home, I will not be able to keep you out of prison. If the cell phone gets broken or stays in one place too long, I will not be able to keep you out of prison, or worse. If I do not check in on schedule, I will probably not be able to keep you out of prison."

"And as for you, if they go to prison you will go to a special facility for juvenile sexual criminals. You will be given a combination of drugs and therapy to reverse the effects of the camp and the bad influences of those two. By the time you get out, you will be blaming them and the camp for molesting you, and showing that you understand why what they did that was so wrong. You will probably be unable to even consider anything beyond very ordinary sex, and that only within a committed relationship. Maybe you'll still be able to beat off, too. If you are very lucky when you get out, you might be allowed to live with some of our relatives. If they can pass the rather pointed background checks and interviews, and if they are willing to go through all that in order to take you. More likely you will end up in an orphanage or a series of foster homes."

"What about you?" He couldn't keep the pain out of his voice, but there was still a note of defiance.

"My arrangements are already made. I would live with a friend and her family."

Jane went on in some detail about the probable effects on each of her parents if they did go to prison for what they did to her. She also emphasized that they could not expect any help from any of the influential alumni and customers of the camp, since they would blame them, and her, for the whole thing. And she emphasized that the things were already in progress. If she did nothing, all those things would happen. Period.

"If I work very hard, and you behave yourselves, I might be able to keep some of that from happening."

"Now, just so you know I am telling the truth, a small demonstration. Mother, pick up the cell phone and hit redial."

She did so, and recognized Katy's voice when she answered and asked to talk to Jane. Her hand shook as she handed the phone to Jane.

"Hey, Katy. I'm back to myself, sorta."

"Are you ok? Did you get David?" Katy asked.

Jane allowed herself a small smile. "Yes and yes. But you won't believe this. They were training him up as a dom."

"You're kidding! They were going to make you a slave to that little brat?"

"Try, anyhow. It didn't work." She turned to face him as she said with more emphasis "And he knows what will happen if he tries any of that again!"

David paled.

"Just as a reminder, he is going to call me Mistress Jane when only family or you can hear. Isn't that right, little boy?"

He started to object, then looked at her face. And at her free hand, which was reaching toward his injured hand. He gasped, and moved as far from her as the seatbelt would allow. "Y... yes," he squeaked.

"Yes, who?" she said, in the command voice she had heard the trainee mistresses attempt.

He choked out "Yes, Mistress Jane."

"I can't hear you!"

"Yes, Mistress Jane. I'll remember." He was shaking now.

"See that you do."

Jane sat back again. "Where was I? Oh, yeah. I was just telling them how much of a bullseye they were in. I told them about the FBI, and about monitoring the phone and tracking us with the GPS in the phone. I had to guess how long that took to set up. How long was it?"

"Are you kidding?" Kate asked, keeping her voice normal so it wouldn't carry to the others in the car. "Even with the terrorist thing, the paperwork will take a couple of days. Are you bluffing them?" Jane could almost hear the grin.

"Big time. I was way too high. I guessed it would take about an hour from the first time I called you." Jane paused, as though Katy was saying something. "Yeah, but I figured it would take you a while to get through to the agent." She noticed that her parents were shifting uncomfortably.

"That part went really fast." Katy mentioned. "I still had his card with the direct number. He remembered me, and took me seriously from the start. That saved a lot of time. Especially when I suggested there was a link between my case and yours."

"I bet. Let's see, now. I told them about the monitoring and tracking, the fact I have to check in with you en route, The fact that if they try to interfere with any of that or warn the camp about the raid even I can't keep them out of prison, and that if I don't do anything they are all getting put away." Jane paused a second, and got an intense look on her face. "I also talked about the conditions the three of them were likely to face if they do get taken away." She lightened up again. "Did I miss anything?"

"Wow. You don't do anything by halves, do you?"

"Nope"

"What if they decide to make a run for it? Have you said anything to stop that?"

"Really? That fast?" Jane turned and looked out the back window. She noticed a small plane paralleling the road some distance away. "I don't see any special looking car behind us."

"I get it." Katy laughed quietly. "The car wouldn't look all that special anyway. If there was one."

"Really?" Jane asked. She turned around again, obviously scanning the sky. She had no trouble seeing the small plane again. "Yeah, I see it now. They sure look tiny when they're so high up."

"Airplane? Good thinking. Anything else you want to say, before your next call?"

"Yeah..." Jane paused, hesitating to say the next part. "I wanted to tell them about you, about what happened. So they understand how you were able to do all that. Do you mind?"

Now it was Katy's turn to hesitate. Her voice lost its earlier happiness as she replied. "Yeah, that is probably a good idea. Make sure they don't spread it around. Especially the little rat."

Jane sobered even more. "I'll make sure. We're at mile 238. Next check in when?"

Katy thought a second. "An hour would be good. Any longer and you will be asleep. If you are more than a few minutes late, I will call you."

"Good point. And a good idea. Call you in an hour, then. Bye."

She dropped the phone on the seat beside her, on the side away from her brother. She composed herself, then addressed her family.

"I know you were all listening, so I have two things to say. The short one is that it is very important that I make that call in an hour. I may be asleep, and if so, wake me."

"The other is a history lesson. Two years ago, I spent a lot of time over at Katy's house during the later part of summer vacation. I told you she was sick, but not much else. Do you remember that?" Her parents sort of nodded. David looked like he was going to make a smart alec remark, then felt his hand throb. His face fell, and he nodded.

She decided a little reinforcement was in order. "I didn't hear you, little boy!"

He looked like he was afraid for his life. "Yes, Mistress Jane."

She nodded. "I'm sure all of you had your own ideas what that was about. And I'm sure they were all wrong. That summer, while her parents were on that trip, she was kidnapped. She ended up in the hands of a mostly female gang, who intended to slave train her and sell her for drug money." Jane went on, recounting some of the details and leaving others out. She went through the two days in the hospital, the contact with the FBI, the rescue of the other slaves-in-training, and the early return of her parents.

Jane's mother spoke up. "Why didn't we hear anything about that?"

Jane looked annoyed. "It turned out that the people they were going to sell her to were connected with a terrorist organization. The FBI kept everything quiet so they could trace that end of things. Last I heard, the kidnappers are still in federal custody, somewhere they can't talk to anyone 'inappropriate'. She swore me to secrecy. Even with a psychotherapist for a father, and some very good medical care, she took a while to recover. I was her best friend, and someone she could tell things to. Even things she couldn't tell her dad or the other therapists."

"She told me what they did. And what they were trying to do." She shuddered. "She also told me what she did. It seemed to help her. It was like teaching me those things made them not so bad for her. I never expected to use them."

"There were some other effects, though. I started having nightmares, especially during or after some of your little games. In fact, any reference to sex, even a veiled hint, made me think about what she went through. Before that, all your fooling around was just what I called your," she dropped into a little girl voice, "yucky naked stuff." Her voice went back to the way it had been. "I didn't want anything to do with it, but it was in the same class as the nasty stuff you drink. Even after I learned the basics, from you and in sex education, I still thought about it that way."

She paused for a couple of breaths. "After that, it changed. It was what all she went through was about. It was her injuries and infections. It was about her being sold and shipped away somewhere, and me never seeing her again or even knowing whether she was alive or dead. It was about her never seeing her parents again."

"You used to ask where I got that 'prudish streak' as you called it. After the time I spent with her, it was almost like I was the one who had been kidnapped and tortured. THAT'S where it came from. I had to turn to her dad for help dealing with all of that. He helped me a lot, and he was truly greatful for the way I helped Katy. You all didn't even notice how screwed up I got."

She stopped again, willing herself to relax battered and bruised muscles.

"By the end of the summer, I was pretty much back to normal. As long as sex wasn't involved. But it still made me want to hurl when that pervert next door sat naked in our hot tub with you, and you tried to get me to join you. And even more so when I saw the way his wife was leering at me. I can just barely stand to go in there now, and that only with my thick, one piece swimsuit on."

She stopped again. Throwing accusations now about those things would do nothing good.

"In a way, I regret not telling you some of it. If the camp had found out about it, they would never have accepted me. Maybe as a mistress. But never as a slave. They would have called it too much of a risk factor. But then those other fifteen kids, and some other poor soul in my place, would not be on the verge of getting rescued. I have to think that rescue is worth some of the hell I went through." This time she couldn't stop the tears.

While she took some time to compose herself, none of the others dared to interrupt her. But she ended up crying herself to sleep.

Once they were convinced she was asleep, they quietly talked among themselves. The adults told David that everything Jane had said was possible, and likely to be true. The things about the past explained a lot, and the terrorism tie in made the FBI claims credible. They were well and truly stuck. Their only real chance of surviving as a family, and avoiding what she described and worse, was to do what she said. In time, things would probably go back to normal.

Someone was shaking her awake. Her hypnotic suggestions kicked in, and she dropped into her psychotic imitation. Then she noticed she was in the car, and remembered. She came the rest of the way out, and heard her mother talking to her.

"It's time to call Katy again," she reminded her. She picked up the phone and checked the time. It was time, so she hit redial. While she was waiting for the connection, she started looking out the window to find out where they were. Just as Katy answered, she saw a sign for the interstate they were on. She noted it, and started watching for a mile marker as she talked.

"Hey, Katy. We still seem to be en route."

"Are you alright? You sound kinda funny."

"Yeah, well, you were right and wrong about one thing. I told them about you, and went into some other things, and the next thing I knew, they were waking me up to call you. I must have been more tired than I thought." she yawned.

"I bet it's the adrenalin bounce and the fever, ganging up on you. If what I went through is any indication, you're going to feel like shit for a couple of days. And the infections will take even longer to clear up."

"Gee, you're just a ray of sunshine." Jane muttered. Then she saw a mile marker, as Katy laughed. She told Katy where they were.

Katy checked the position on an online map, and verified that they were on course and on schedule.

Jane was coming into focus again, and remembered something. "When I was talking about you, before I crashed, I had a thought. The things they did to you seemed a whole lot like what they were doing at the camp. Especially in the odd details. I think there really is a connection. It's almost like some of the bikers were graduates of the mistress program at the camp, and set up their own, even nastier, version. I bet your FBI guy could find out if that is the case."

"Probably. But what does that do for us?"

"I'm still a little fuzzy from the nap, but I think that can give us a lot of leverage. For one thing, it gives them a reason to raid the camp that doesn't involve us. As long as they behave themselves, I'd rather not have my family killed in retaliation for the raid. Hell, I'd rather not BE killed for something like that."

"Why would you be killed?" Katy was puzzled and more than a little alarmed at the idea.

"Aside from those who run the camp, a lot of powerful people have been customers. They all face ruinous exposure from the raid. While some of the slaves will be better off, I don't think the masters or the people who sent the involuntary slaves will exactly enjoy what will happen."

"Yeah, I can see that.", Katy conceded.

"Besides, if they make that connection the focus of the case, they don't need us as much. That should make it easier for you and me to convince them not to lock my whole family up. At least, not just yet."

"I thought you were mad at them for betraying you."

"I am. But it would be more than a little inconvenient. And with the threat of prosecution hanging over them, I think they can be persuaded to behave themselves." Jane looked meaningfully around the car.

The adults nodded, and David promptly responded with "Yes, Mistress Jane."

Katy found the whole idea of David calling her Mistress Jane hilarious. But while Katy was laughing, Jane was thinking.

"Is your dad home? I need to ask him some things."

"No, but he should be back in a minute or two. Why?"

"I've got a couple of questions for him, and maybe a big opportunity. Does he know what's going on?"

"Most of it. Maybe not all the details, and not what you just told me. So what's your idea?"

"Well," Jane began, "With the bikers in the spotlight, and the crosshairs, maybe we can do a little more good. And make my family even less a target."

"Go on, you tease!"

"What if the government set up a program similar to what I've been trying to do, for all the families?"

"Huh?"

"Ok. If the slaves choose to accept the program, their parents will go on a kind of probation. They will behave themselves, and put the kids through a specialized rehab program. It will undo the damage to the slave kids and reprogram the master kids. As long as the parents behave until the kids graduate from college, they are relatively free. If they backslide before that, the slaves can decide to let them be prosecuted. And ruined."

"So where does my dad come in?"

A voice in the background said "Usually the front door. Is that Jane?"

"He could head up the rehab program, and be part of monitoring the probation. He could make a lot of money, and do a lot of good."

"You'll have to talk to him about that. Here he is."

"Jane? Are you alright?" he sounded worried.

"I've been better. Physically, I'm about like Katy was before the hospital stay. Otherwise, I'm not sure I'm out of the woods yet. Katy can tell you more. But I had two important things to talk to you about. The first one is long, so remind me to talk to you about sleep."

She went over her thoughts about the similarities, referring him to Katy for details, and the probability of a connection. Then she sketched her idea for the conditional amnesty. He reminded her that there were a lot of "if's" in that whole thing, but promised to talk to the FBI people about it. Then he reminded her about sleep.

"I did Katy's waking up thing. But now that I'm out of there, I'm still doing it. That's not useful. How do I fix that?"

"The best way would be to go into the self hypnosis, and change it."

"I'm too out of it. Any other ideas?"

"Jane, do you trust me? Completely?" He sounded very formal. Like his Therapist voice.

Jane didn't hesitate. "Yes."

He waited for her to say something more, but she didn't. He told her to think carefully about what she wanted to do every time she woke up. She did, and told him when she was ready. He gave her a set of suggestions which put her in a light trance while keeping her focused. He reminded her that she knew the change she wanted to make, and gave her permission to make it. then, when she was sure it was made, he woke her up.

They settled on two hours for the next call, then ended the call.

"Alright, before I collapse again, there are some things to get clear. First, I need to check in again in two hours or whenever we stop. Whichever comes first. I should be a little easier to wake up next time."

"That's the good news. The bad news, for you, is that there may be more limits on what I can do for you than I thought. And if the connection to the bikers doesn't pan out, the people behind the camp will almost certainly believe that you are the ones who blew the whistle. If you are real good, and can provide a lot of good information, you might get put in a witness protection program. If not, David and I will almost certainly end up as either orphans or corpses."

She paused to let that sink in, then continued. "Whether you end up in the program I suggested, or in the witness protection program, you are going to have to behave yourselves. Really behave yourselves. Do you understand what that means?" She looked around at them, one at a time, catching first her father's eyes (in the mirror) with their look of confusion, then the similar look in her mother's eyes. Finally, she stared at her Brother.

"No, Mistress Jane. I am not sure I understand." he admitted, miserably. This was certainly not the way he had been expecting things to work out.

"First, no trouble with the law. I don't know if a speeding ticket would do it, but anything worse is something you don't want to face. But that is the least of your problems. You are going to be turning your lives around. Not only are you NOT going to get the years of debauchery you were anticipating," Jane had liked that word, ever since she learned it. Debauchery. "you will become shining examples of sexual propriety. You two," she looked at the front seat, "will ONLY have sex with each other. Not David. Not your friends. And sure as hell not with me. Not so much as a french kiss. And that sex will only take place in your bedroom or bathroom. All three of you will have clothes on any time you are outside your bedroom or the bathroom. And once you scrub it out and disinfect it, that includes the hot tub. Suits definitely not optional. You will not do anything the least bit sexually suggestive in the presence of anybody I have over, or me."

"David, you will become the perfect little gentleman in public. Any signs of slipping into that 'master' role, with anyone, and you are going right into that institution. Either way, the only sex you will be having until at least high school will be with your right hand. Do you understand?"

"Yes." He said glumly. This was getting worse and worse.

"What did you say?" Jane demanded.

David realized his mistake. "Yes, Mistress Jane." he said, wilting under her glare.

"You all will be watched. We all will be watched. You will never know when someone is watching or listening. That will be true at home, at work, at school, and anywhere we go. And that reminds me. One of the first things you will do when we get home is a thorough housecleaning. But you won't be chasing dust bunnies. You will be boxing every bit of hidden electronics in the house. And all your BDSM stuff, and other sex toys." She noticed her parents look of alarm.

"Mother, you will be able to keep one very ordinary vibrator. And your trick underwear. But that is it. Your bedroom, like the rest of the house, will be subject to random searches. And yes, that even includes your little locked playroom. So if you have anything illegal in there, put it in the box or destroy it. The same goes for your porn. Including the computer stuff. And be aware that your internet stuff will be watched as well."

Her mother looked like she was in shock, and her father just looked grim as he concentrated on driving. David was quietly crying. "Isn't that going a little far?" Her mother asked.

"You should have thought of that before you tried to force me into slavery." Jane shot back. "You didn't think it was going too far when you claimed you were sending me to a summer camp and then tricked me into a life of beatings and degradation. Do you really expect me to feel sorry for you because you won't be able to play your sick, disgusting games any more? If you thought I was a prude before, just think what this betrayal will do to my attitudes about sex. By rights, I should be calling for them to cut off those cocks you talked about in that movie. And maybe a hysterectomy and clitoris removal for the pussy I was supposed to lick!" She spit out those last words through clenched teeth.

Jane took a couple of breaths to settle down a bit. "Remember what you told me, when you were trying to make sure I wouldn't tell everyone about your sick little games? You said that betrayal destroys families. You were right."

"Just be glad it isn't forever. Once David and I graduate from college, you can get most of your stuff and sink back into your sewer. Just leave me out of it."

"But what if one of you...?"

"You'd just better make sure we both get into college and graduate. And who knows? If David goes away to school, out from under your influence, they might even cut him some slack and let him date while in college. As long as he stays away from BDSM and crap like that."

She enjoyed the warring emotions playing across her brother's face. The little shit was part of the conspiracy, but only a relatively small part. He played along, instead of warning her. And he expected to spend the rest of their home lives dominating her. But he didn't set the whole thing up. He didn't actively deceive her. He just let her believe their parents' lies. In a way, he was a victim too. They offered him things no ordinary 11 year old boy could resist. And probably convinced him that it wouldn't really harm her. What did he know?

But they had destroyed her earlier feelings for him. And she would never get them back. She might forgive him. She probably would, eventually. But the image of a sweet little kid and sometimes pain in the butt had forever been corrupted by a deamonin leathers, beating and degrading some helpless victim the way they tried to do to her. She would always see some of Cassie, the other betrayer, in him.

Cassie. That one would pay. Jane knew she had already hurt her, by causing her to fail, time after time, in front of those other abusive bitches. But it was not enough. Maybe she could arrange something a little more personal during the raid. And Melanie, for all the things she did to poor little Emily.

Jane became aware that she hadn't said anything for a while, and that the others in the car were watching her. She also knew that she needed to rest, that the infections and illness were taking a lot out of her. Still, she had dumped a lot on them when they were already stretched pretty thin. She needed to know what they were plotting.

She still had one hypnotic trick left. While she slept (or was otherwise out), her subconscious mind would monitor what was said. Anything important would be saved, and she would become aware of it when she woke up. Any sign of an imminent threat and she would wake up immediately. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing.

"I'm not asleep yet." She told them. "Soon, probably. Remember to wake me before we stop. As long as we have been on the road, I can't see you going another couple of hours without gas or a bathroom. Bet leather boy there doesn't make it another hour."

"What about you?" her mother asked.

"Worst comes to worst, I have the diaper." Jane said smugly, as she allowed herself to drift off.

The fever dreams made her sleep interesting, if less than totally restful.

When they woke her, she checked the time on the phone. 50 minutes. She could rub her brother's nose in it, but she chose not to. She reminded everyone to stay away from the pay phones, then hit redial. Katy answered on the second ring.

"What's happening?" Katy asked, breathlessly.

"Pulling into a gas station. Probably going to get some fast food while we're here." She gave her the location, from the signs she could see. "Any news?"

"Yeah. Two of the bikers freely admitted being to Camp Courage, as soon as they were asked."

"Figures. That's good news, I think. Just a minute." They were parking at the pump, and her mother and brother were getting ready to get out of the car. She told them to go ahead, and that she would catch up. She was about to pick up her conversation with Katy, when she noticed the windows were down and her father would hear everything while he pumped the gas. She became aware that they had talked about that while she was asleep, as well as some other things.

"I'll call you back in a minute," she told Katy. "Too many ears."

She got out of the car and made a bee line for the mini mart. After taking a quick look inside and making sure there were no phones near the restrooms, she positioned herself in the shade by the outdoor pay phones and redialed.

"I'm back," she told Katy. She told her about the conversation when she was asleep. How they had come to the conclusion that they were stuck. How they assured David that the whole thing would probably blow over by the end of the summer, or not much later. "Like that's gonna happen!" they chorused. She also told her how they had considered a number of options up to and including suicide by auto mishap on the way home, but decided to wait and see how things played out. Then she asked Katy if there was any more news.

"Not much. It will take time to pull stuff together and get the high level decisions. Made any more threats or promises you can't back up?"

"Now that you mention it," Jane began. She told her about the clean up demands, and asked whether the person that met them at home could bring stuff to scan for bugs.

"Sounds like a good idea," Katy conceded. "I can ask, anyhow. How are you feeling?"

"Shitty. Sadly, that's a bit of an improvement. How long was it before they got your infections cleared up? At least enough that you didn't want to tear your privates out?"

Katy replied that the shots got the worst of it over the two days in the hospital, but some of the rest took two weeks to clear up. She also warned her that the initial cleaning out was going to be no fun at all.

They agreed she would call when they headed back to the highway, with the same two hour or stop check in time. As she was hanging up, She saw her father pull the car away from the pump and into a parking space. She saw something else that she decided to make use of.

She followed her father into the store. "Are we getting something to eat before we head out?" she asked him. She had "heard" them discuss that while she was asleep, but kept it ambiguous enough that he wouldn't be sure.

"We'll probably just grab something from the drive through to eat on the road." He looked a little startled, as he realized when the discussion took place.

"By the way, Katy says that they told her your right brake light isn't working. And I need the car keys."

He mechanically handed her the keys, disturbed by the confirmation that they were being followed.

She went out to the car and got the antiseptic ointment from the first aid kit and a fresh diaper. She went back in, handing her mother the keys as they passed each other at the door to the restroom. After using a toilet for the first time since she stood on that platform, she dried herself and applied the ointment. She doubted the ointment would do all that much good, but it was soothing and it might keep the splinters and cuts from getting worse.

She headed back out to the car. Her father wasn't back from the bathroom yet, but the others were waiting. She randomly waved at a sedan parked nearby before getting in. She was getting to enjoy these head games.

When her father came back, he was pale and his face and hair were wet. He was holding a small bag from the store. When he slid into his seat, in front of hers, she noticed a faint smell of vomit. She decided to ease up a bit on the pressure for a while.

They drove the half block to the cluster of fast food places, but didn't go to a drive through lane. Instead, they parked. Her father seemed to shake a little as he shut the car off. He turned to the others, and told them about Katy's "message". Then he said he would fix the light while they got the food. Enjoying the freedom of choice about the food, she ordered a big cheeseburger meal and a salad. She doubted she would finish it all, after the skimpy meals at camp. But she would enjoy it. She noticed that the others didn't seem all that hungry any more.

She called Katy as they headed for the highway. She pointedly thanked her for the tip about the brake light, and told her that her father fixed it while they were stopped.

Katy laughed, and guessed (correctly) that Jane had seen it herself. There was no news otherwise, so they confirmed the check in schedule and hung up.

When Jane took her first french fry, she nearly bit her own fingers. As she chewed and swallowed, she realized she was still doing the automatic eating. She canceled that, and enjoyed her food in a somewhat safer manner. She ate slowly, savoring the flavor of each bite.

As much as she wanted to, she didn't make the mistake of stuffing herself. She ate until she felt sated, then nibbled for a bit. She made sure she was back in control of her other bodily functions, and settled in to sleep.

The rest of the trip was routine. When they got home, a sedan with two men and a woman in suits inside and a minivan with a man and girl inside were waiting for them. The girl, Katy, reached the car first. She opened Jane's door and hugged her fiercely.

"Welcome home! I have so much to tell you!" She reached across and unbuckled Jane's seat belt, without really letting go of her.

"But first, she has a lot to tell me," interrupted the woman in the suit. She handed Jane her card, with the FBI logo, and introduced herself. Jane recognized one of the men as the one who headed Katy's case, and nodded to him as he approached her father's door. The second man approached her mother's door at the same time, carrying a metal briefcase. They introduced themselves and presented their cards, then suggested that they take these conversations inside. Jane's father asked whether he could pull the car into the garage, and the agent told him to wait until Jane was finished getting out of the car. Katy, her father, and the female agent waited as Jane's father pulled the car in, then followed the others inside.

At Jane's request, one of the agents swept her room for electronics before the interview, removing two tiny cameras and three listening devices. The interviewing agent raised her eyebrows at that, but said nothing. Jane asked that Katy's father be present, for support.

Katy waited, unhappily, in the living room as the interview in Jane's bedroom went on and on. While she waited, Jane's parents were packing a variety of things in large boxes, under the watchful eyes of the other agents. The agents allowed them some privacy while packing rooms that did not contain a telephone or a computer.

In the meantime, David was doing his own packing in his room. He almost cried again as he dropped his new leathers and toys in the box, followed by the books, magazines, CDs, and videos. He was sorely tempted to keep some of it, but he knew they would be searching his room.

When he was done, he dragged the box out into the hallway, then went to the family room to watch some tv while he waited for the next step. His father went in, supposedly to make sure he hadn't missed anything. Mostly, he took the clandestine electronics out. But he did find a couple of things that had fallen behind the bed. And a lot of dust.

Once the initial interview was complete, the woman complimented Jane on her courage and resourcefulness. She had a brief conference with the lead agent. He then called a conference with the two girls and Katy's father. He praised her intellect and inventiveness, then reminded her that the Bureau operates on a budget. And answers to a chain of command. They went over ideas and plans, and he came away with a greater respect for her intelligence and courage.

There was a small ceremony where, in front of the agents, the rest of the family formally renounced all claim to the contents of the boxes, in favor of Jane. Both sides acknowledged that Jane had no knowledge of the actual contents of the boxes. Jane then formally asked Kate's father to hold them for her, to keep them from tempting her family. He agreed. The boxes were loaded into the minivan.

While Jane's parents were being interrogated, and the house searched, Katy, her father, and the lead agent took Jane and David to their doctor. They had concluded that it was better to use someone familiar with her and her medical history, even though it would be embarrassing. A warning and letter from the lead agent kept the doctor and her staff from asking too many questions or reporting what they saw or heard. The records of her infections and injuries, and his injury, would be kept separate and would not be discussed with anyone other than their parents, Katy's father (as Jane's therapist), the agent himself, and any necessary medical personnel. And that last only with permission and review. No insurance reports, no State paperwork, nothing.

David was quickly splinted, given a prescription for pain medication, and sent out to wait, along with Katy and the agent. They kept an eye on David, to make sure he didn't do something stupid. But Jane demanded that her therapist stay.

The examination was painful and embarrassing. The treatment was worse. After cleaning and packing the affected areas below the waist, and extracting the splinters, she gave Jane another shot and prescriptions for more antibiotics, a topical cream, and some heavier duty pain killers. She strongly recommended a hospital stay, but didn't insist when told it was not practical. She gave Jane some treatment instructions, then left her to dress and go home.

Kate's father saw that the pediatrician was almost in tears. He took a moment to reassure that Jane was in good hands now. And that those who had abused her would pay for it.

Things are not always as simple as they seem to a 13 year old, and huge adolescent plans often become much smaller adult realities. Katy's father did not become the head of the elaborate program Jane had envisioned, but he was brought in as a very well paid consultant. Her parents, and the rest of the families under the conditional amnesty, went through extensive personal and family therapy, and paid for the costs of the program. Some families tried to fight the charges instead, and lost. Some started the program, but didn't succeed in it. Several of the current and past campers ended up in the hands of relatives, or the State.

There was one other thing, though...

It took longer than she hoped to get the paperwork together for the raid, or "rescue mission" as she thought of it. By federal standards, it was incredibly fast. On the fourth day of camp, it came together. Given what she had been put through, and what she knew about the camp, they even let her come along.

It was close to midnight when the transformer that served both camps failed again. That happened four or five times a year, so none of the counselors were unduly alarmed. The slaves were locked in their cells, the trainees were on their dorms, getting their final briefings for the next day's activities. It was nothing more than a routine inconvenience. It would be fixed in plenty of time for the morning exercises.

WHUMP! doors flew open in the offices, the counselors' dorms, and the trainees dorms. The trainee mistresses saw large, heavily armed people stream into their room. Paula, who had been briefing them, charged the intruders and was promptly shot. Two other shots rang out from the other side of the lake.

"ON THE FLOOR, NOW! HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEADS! NOW!" came the barked commands. The frightened girls complied. They were promptly handcuffed and had heavy cloth bags tied over their heads. They were commanded to their feet and marched outside. When they were split up and started up stairs, they recognized the platform yard. But now they were the helpless ones. Some started crying from their fear. "QUIET!" the voice roared. They were forced to their knees in the centers of their platforms and left to wait.

Cassie heard someone climbing the stairs, and take a position beside and slightly behind her. Then she heard an electrical hum start up. When the hood was yanked from her head, she was blinded by the lights flooding into the yard. A familiar voice behind her asked "Remember me?"

It was Jane! But how? "You! How...YEEEE!" The scream came as Jane's shock baton painfully spread its voltage through her body.

"Nobody said you could talk, bitch!" Jane ground out. Then she took a megaphone and addressed the helpless girls.

"Listen up! This camp has just changed hands, and your lives have changed forever. This is real now, as real and as serious as the bullet which killed Paula. You slaves are now the property of the SLF. We will not hesitate to injure you if you give us cause, and, as you have seen, we will kill when we have to."

"You will never see your families again. Within two hours, they will either be in federal custody, fugitives, or dead. But you won't care, because you will be on your way to serve your new owners. If you serve them well, you may live long enough to finish growing up. You might even be granted the honor of carrying some of their children. If you anger them, or us, you will die a very painful, lingering death."

"You will be processed one at a time. If you cooperate fully and show that you can be a good slave, you might end up in a household instead of a brothel or worse."

"Each one of you befriended, and then betrayed, one of your peers. We have no reason to trust you now. You will have to prove yourselves."

"You will not be trained with harmless little swats from a riding crop. You will receive high voltage shocks, powerful enough to burn you, at the very least."

As a demonstration, she shocked Cassie again. Once the scream died down, Jane lowered the megaphone for a moment, and asked Cassie "Did you enjoy that, slave?"

"NO!"

Jane shocked her again, briefly this time. "You will address me as Mistress. And you will keep a respectful tongue in your mouth, or it will be surgically removed. You will not speak unless a mistress asks you a direct question. Do you understand, slave?"

"Yes...Mistress."

"Did you enjoy the shocks, slave?"

"No, Mistress."

"Too bad. I enjoyed shocking you, so I will probably do it a lot."

Cassie wisely held her tongue.

Jane nodded, and raised the megaphone and triggered it. "You other slaves! I repeat, this is not the little game you were learning to play. It is real, and your lives depend on being a good slave."

Jane released the trigger and looked around. In one corner of the yard, huddled by the nearly invisible gate, were the freed female slaves. They were dressed in their own clothes, the ones they arrived in. She walked down the stairs, and across the yard to them, after warning Cassie to look only straight forward.

The freed slaves all had questions. "Is that really you?" "Are we really free?" "Is Paula really dead?" "What about our parents?" and so on. She laughed and waved them to silence.

"It's really me. You're really free. I suspect Paula is still alive, but in a lot of pain. She was shot with a rubber bullet. You will have some control over what happens to your parents, but that will be explained later. Now I have a question for you. Who here wants to play mistress to your former abuser?" Five hands went up. "Ok. you others can either stand here and watch, or go back inside. Now new mistresses. This is a shock baton. Be careful with it. It has a more painful jolt than the floors in the cells, and it is a solid blunt weapon in its own right." She showed them how to use the batons, and cautioned them not to use them too long at a time.

"Don't let them get to you. They might try to get you back under their control, or they might play on your sympathy. And they might try to use their 'good girl' manners to win you over. Don't be fooled. You are in control, and can stay that way. If you go too far, the guards will stop you, so don't injure your new slave. If your slave gets out of your control, the guard will help with that. Remember what they did that first day, and what they have done since. Start out getting them used to following your commands, like that stuff the first day. After you start to succeed, get them answering questions. Start with things like their full name, home address, things like that. There are two questions you want to know the answers to. What were they told about the camp before they came here, and what were they told about you before they got here. Let me know what you find out. You can send them inside for processing anytime you want to."

"For now, it is important that they continue to believe what I told them. The camp has been taken over by some armed group. Which is true. They are now captives of that group, and no longer have the role of mistresses. Also mostly true. They are going to be trained and sold as real slaves. False, but don't let them know that. You know who took control of the camp. They don't, and should not know that until after their processing."

"Now go have fun!"

As the others approached their prey, she returned to Cassie. "You've been resting long enough. Time for some exercise." She put Cassie through a variety of otherwise harmless acts to get her used to responding to her commands. Then she started throwing out questions between actions. or sometimes during actions. If Cassie stopped to answer, she got shocked. If she failed to answer, she got shocked. She started answering quickly, completely, and without thinking.

After Jane got her answers, she got tired of the game. "Stop! On your knees! Close your eyes!" She got in front of Cassie, looming over her former tormentor. "Remember, slave. Always remember. You chose to be here. You chose to deceive and betray someone you thought was an innocent child, a virgin who just wanted to live her life on her terms. You happily anticipated beating and tormenting her, until you destroyed everything that made her who she was. And then, after you destroyed her and handed her off to other tormentors, you saw yourself doing it to some other innocent. And maybe keep that one. Or maybe just keep destroying new ones. You were going to live your life on your terms, by destroying their chances to do the same."

"Raise your left foot behind you!"

"You are a pathetic loser. It took me seconds to get you to raise your foot, but after a day and a night of tormenting me, with the whole staff of the camp on your side, you couldn't get me to do the same. You were a dishonest coward and a bully to begin with, and then you added complete failure on top of that. You are barely fit to be a slave. And you are one. You will not be living your life on your terms."

"This man will take you in for processing. You will obey him, and the people inside, like you would obey me. You still have a chance at some kind of life, if you do so."

Jane turned her back on Cassie. "Take her in for processing." she snapped.

She walked down the stairs, and went from platform to platform. At the two without mistresses, she told the guards to take the girls in for processing. She went to Emily's platform, and found the ex slave sitting on the edge, looking unhappy. She indicated the former mistress with a wave of her hand, and said "Demonstrate your control."

"Slave! Hop up and down on your left foot!" She started to do so. "When did you first have sex with your father?"

"The Saturday after my 8th birthday, Mistress." She kept hopping.

"Stop."

"Are you done with her?" Jane asked.

"I guess so," Emily replied.

"Send her in to get processed, and we'll talk."

Once she was taken away, Jane observed "It wasn't as much fun as you thought it would be, was it?"

"No." came the miserable reply.

"You thought the payback would take away all the pain, let you be who you used to be, right?"

"I guess"

"But it didn't. And after the first little bit, it didn't feel so good, did it?"

"No. I don't understand."

"There's something wrong with those girls," Jane explained. "Something that makes them want to hurt and dominate other people. There's a little bit of that in all of us, and you let yours out to play for a few minutes. But in the end, you are a better person than her. We'll get you help, and you can get your life back." She gave the 11 year old a warm hug.

"Now, go inside and relax. We'll talk some more after everyone's done."

Emily nodded, then walked away. Jane went around, offering advice to the others. Soon the yard was clear. Jane went inside, to begin the rest of her life.