Stephanie woke in a sweat. She had been having a very strange dream. From the smell of sweat and the tang of sexual juice coming from her fingers, it had clearly been hot. Since she had booted Cameron out for being such a wimp, she had not had a regular sexual partner, but the combination of one-night stands she picked up among the City stockbrokers and the use of her favourite toys had kept her satisfied. She wondered why the urge had come now. Maybe she had got to bed too early, but then again she had felt so tired. Caroline, her partner in the warehousing business, had complained similarly a couple of nights before. Since the SLV Wear account had cleared out, the two of them had been to the Whitechapel site quite a lot, getting it in shape for the next company who wanted to hire it. The area was renowned for its clothing wholesalers and outlets, and clothing was generally a clean product to store but there were always things to sort out when a client left. With clothing you had to watch out, as clients would claim compensation if mice got into it, and Stephanie always had any warehouse purged thoroughly each time it fell empty.

Stephanie had wondered about SLV Wear. She had guessed they were specialist; they said they did mainly women’s clothes, but from the rubbery smell and the odd items left around she guessed they were firmly in the fetish market. Not that there was anything wrong with that. To Stephanie, what people fancied doing or wearing was their own business. Her business education had clearly been in the ‘greed is good’ category. She knew she brought income to the people of the areas where her warehouses were located, goods for the shops round about and an income for the manufacturers; without her it all fell down. She did not care how the stuff was made, some people would call it sweated labour, to her, you paid the lowest wages you could get away with, it was good business sense.

The telephone beside Stephanie’s bed warbled.

“Steph? It’s Caroline. Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. What’s the matter?”

“Well, I was just having dreams, not really bad dreams, strange dreams.”

“I know what you mean.”

“You had something like that too?”

“Yes, I guess I did. I am here in a sweat-soaked bed.”

“Same here, it’s freaky. I had to call you.”

“Are you there alone?”

“Yes, Jasper flew out to Zurich on Tuesday.”

“Jasper?”

“You know the corporate lawyer from that bar at the St. Katherine’s Dock marina.”

“Oh yes, well I can see why you held on to him for a while.”

“Well, that’s what’s worried me. Sex with him is a treat, but in this dream, I was erh, screwing you.”

“Well, we’re women of the world.” Stephanie joked, a little unnerved that Caroline’s dream was beginning to sound so much like her own. “We can tolerate some girl-on-girl action in dreams, but in reality, love, you’re just not my type.”

Caroline laughed lightly but when she spoke again her voice was serious. “Well, what do you think caused it? Someone doped both our lattes yesterday?”

“Possibly, someone trying on one of those drugs, make us more pliable. I didn’t like the look of that pair by the window in the bar, you remember, you said they looked like estate agents.”

“Yeah, but they didn’t get near our drinks. I wondered if it was something at the Whitechapel warehouse. Some chemical leaking or something.”

“Well, most of the chemicals our clients use are nothing stronger than dry cleaning fluid.”

“Yeah, but that SLV Wear, they were a bit odd.”

“Paid well.”

“But I wondered if there was something in what they use, don’t these sex toy companies sell stuff, viagra, spanish fly, that kind of thing?”

“I guess so, but they said nothing about anything medical, it was all just clothing.”

“Yeah, but a lot of it must have been leather, PVC, rubber, stuff like that.”

“Bondage gear, too don’t forget.” Stephanie reminded her.

Caroline went quiet for a few moments.

“Still there Caroline?”

“Yeah, this is going to sound strange.”

“Don’t worry, go ahead, shoot.”

“I wonder if it was those necklace things. You remember the two boxes they left. How many were there, about twenty in each. One lot had those crystals, one lot just plain.”

“Yeah. I took one of each, I’ve got them somewhere here. I was going to talk to Pete, he knows people down the market who might be able to shift them. Didn’t you take one of each too to see if you could flog them online?”

“Yes, I did. I took shots of them and posted them when I got back, just to see what bites we get, if any.”

“Certainly, any stock the renter leaves behind, then that’s ours, it may only raise a bit of cash, but from what I heard that fetish stuff goes at a fair price. Even ten pounds each would be enough for a lunch.”

“Yes, I’m sure. I just wondered if it had something to do with the dream.”

“What? Some chemicals coming off it?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Stephanie could hear Caroline making sniffing noises down the phone.

“No, it just smells rubbery.” Caroline concluded.

“So why do you think there’s a connection?” Stephanie asked with true curiosity.

“Well, in the dream I was wearing one, you were too, and other stuff besides.”

“Okay, we had the same dream, yes, we were clad head-to-toe in rubber, looking like we had stepped from some top-shelf magazine. I must say, you certainly look good in that dominatrix style.” Stephanie said lightly.

“Well, it wasn’t dominatrix, we were the slaves don’t forget.”

“It’s all much of a muchness.”

“But it was peculiar, being someone’s slave.”

“You got too turned on by it, is that what’s worrying you?”

“Erm, I suppose so, yes. I always think of myself as being in control, you too. We run the business, we run the men in our lives, it’s us who should be boss.”

“Well, there you are then. It’s a dream, it’s fantasy, it’s the brain’s way of clearing out what’s lying around in there. You and I spent a couple of days in a place that had been jam packed with fetish gear, breathed it all in, no wonder our heads are spinning with it. What time is it?” Stephanie asked, then foolishly realised her clock radio was glaring the time at her.

“About four, four thirty.”

“What time were you in bed?”

“About ten thirty. I was worn out.”

“Well, us successful businesswomen have to work hard for our money. I was the same. So, there we are, we have the formula. Slaving away in a warehouse recently full of fetish gear, minds crowded with strange thoughts, falling into a deep sleep and bingo, there’s your dream. You and I think about a lot of things the same, it’s not a surprise with the same ingredients we come up with the same dreams.”

“I suppose so.” Caroline conceded. “I’m glad I called though.”

“Sure, if you’d given me five minutes I probably would have been worrying over the same things. We’ll have a good breakfast tomorrow and then do a bit of shopping, after today’s hard work we need a break. I’ll see you at Tellini’s at nine-thirty. Sound a deal?”

“Yeah, sounds good. See you there.”

“Right, well, now back to the beauty sleep. See you tomorrow, Caroline.”

“Bye, Steph.”

Stephanie put down the telephone receiver. The conversation had for the moment taken away from her own concerns about the dreams. Her rationalisation of them for Caroline had helped her too, but the fact that they had had the same weird dreams was strange. Then again, she could not tell how similar they actually had been, there was no way she could see what Caroline had dreamed or she exactly what Stephanie had seen.

Stephanie got out of bed and straightened the under sheet. She went over to the wardrobe that held her work clothes. She reached her fingers into the pocket of the jacket she had been wearing the previous day. Her fingers touched on the two necklaces and she pulled them out. She took them back with her to bed, running their smooth shiny material between her fingers. Were they leather? Rubber? They certainly seemed tough and she wondered about what kind of women would wear these. For the moment she stuck them on her bedside table then slid back beneath the duvet, tiredness seemed suddenly to have come back over her.

“Pheniesta! Pheniesta!”

Pheniesta snapped to attention, an Owner was calling her. She blinked her eyes and they regained focus. Jenesytra stood over her, with Colirena already leashed, just behind her.

“Why did you not respond immediately?” Jenesytra asked more with curiosity than indignation.

Pheniesta was at a loss to answer. “i am sorry Mistress. My vision blurred, it was like a dream, but it was like it was real. It was like i was somewhere else, like i was someone else.”

“Who did you think you were?”

“Erm, a woman, Mistress.”

“Of course.”

“But not a nubile, a free woman, one with money.”

“You dreamed you were your Mistress Cazine?”

“No, Mistress, i dreamt i was no-one on this world, on Xylae. i was a free woman somewhere very strange, people dressed so differently, buildings were taller than the highest castle, streets were crowded, streets on streets.”

“Fantasy, you should ignore such dreams, focus on what you are, a nubile and nothing more.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Pheniesta bowed her head admonished.

“Good slave.” Jenesytra said as a concession. She reached forward and clipped a leash to Pheniesta’s collar.

“Thank you, Mistress.” The slave responded, a pleasurable sensation running through her as she was leashed.

Jenesytra hesitated. “Colirena, have you had such dreams?”

“Yes, Mistress. Just as Pheniesta described. i was a rich free woman, and i worked with a woman who looked like Pheniesta. As she said, we were dressed strangely, everything was peculiar.”

“Frightening?”

“Different Mistress, i didn’t like it. There i had no Owner, no-one to command me, no-one to obey, my clothes were dull.”

“Anything else?”

“I had two names, Mistress, Car, Caro, Caro-something was the first one.”

“That is ridiculous, a slave only has one name, her collar name.” Jenesytra said dismissively, ending her enquiries for now.

Jenesytra tugged on the leashes and led the two nubiles from the room. Pheniesta enjoyed being led, her tightly held bum swaying sexily, as she walked, her steps shaped by the heels of her sleek, long boots. She was on show as a nubile, purely erotic, purely obedient, nothing else. Following her Owner, her body tingled as her glossy second skin brushed occasionally without friction against that of Colirena, each giving little moans at the pleasure that such contact provoked.

Jenesytra led the two slaves along whitewashed corridors to an office, they walked in behind her and stood, heads bowed, waiting for their next commands.

“Yes, Jenesytra?” A woman in her late-middle age looked up from the papers she was reading at her desk.

“Domina Ashtal, I am sorry to have disturbed you...”

“You have that pair of nubiles?”

“Yes Domina, these are them, Pheniesta and Colirena.” She nodded to them in order.

“Good, they look fine, suitably matched. They will sell for a good price as a pair. I assume they perform well together? They knew each other before they were enslaved?”

“Yes, Domina, they knew each other. But...”

“What is it? Don’t you think they are suitable?”

“No, Domina, it is that both of them have fallen into dreams. Dreams while they are awake. Very peculiar dreams, they sound like dreams of the Otherworld.”

“But they’re not otherworlders are they? I thought Syltera had not taken any from there for weeks.”

“I don’t think so, she said they both worked in a warehouse a league from the old docks.”

“I can imagine: giving oneself to be a nubile would seem an excellent idea for two attractive women doing something so mundane. However, I do wonder what has caused these dreams.”

Ashtal stood. She wore a sheer drape over her bare shoulders. Beneath stretched a dark purple leather dress, its laced bodice as tight as a corset, its skirt full and reaching her booted ankles. Ashtal walked over to the slaves and looked them up and down, occasionally running her hand over the rubber which they wore. She then fingered Pheniesta’s collar.

“Of course, these are only personality collars, look at the crystals studded round them.”

Jenesytra came forward and now could see the small studded crystals around the collar.

“Of course, I am sorry Domina, I should have thought about it.”

“Yes, they will need proper collars before they are sold. You know these only lay the characteristics of a nubile over the woman’s personality, they do not fully alter her mind. Remove this now and she would remember everything from her past, possibly she’d lose all desire to obey, you’d probably have no control over her. It’s a lot easier to take women this way initially, there’s not always time for a trader on the spot to fully induct a woman, so she just makes her compliant and then we fully convert her once we have her in the stables.”

“I am sorry Domina, I should have been more observant, but they were so wonderfully obedient that I was misled.”

“Oh, yes, I have no doubt these two will be perfect nubiles and that they will go through the final, irreversible change immediately, but the fact they are not quite there yet may explain their strange dreams. Jareth was saying something about keeping slaves away from portals. He thinks that energies come through from the Otherworld and we have no idea what effect they can have. He thinks it affects otherworlders more, but slaves from Xylae are also prone to being disturbed by them because as slaves they need direction, their minds are servile, their bodies are submissive. No, I think Cazine’s going to have to relocate that portal in the tower, it’s too close to the slave stables.” The slaveress walked back to her seat.

“Good, that is dealt with then. Make sure you double check any slaves coming here in future to see what collars they are wearing.” Ashtal concluded.

“Yes Domina.”

The older woman looked back down to her papers, signalling the meeting was over.

“Follow.” Jenesytra ordered, leading the slaves away.

Soon the trio, slave dealer and slaves, were descending to the rooms which opened out on to the selling stages which fronted Kerans’s slave market.

“Kneel.” Jenesytra commanded as they stepped into one of the ante-chambers.

The two slaves eased to their knees, their rubber stressing and releasing from different parts of their bodies as they did, but continuing to cling so tightly to them. Jenesytra removed the leashes then stretched over Pheniesta to cut her collar free. As she did, Pheniesta felt strange, as if all certainty had been cut from her too. She was confused and watched in panic as Jenesytra cursed and scrabbled around for a proper slave collar.

Pheniesta felt she was fainting, and she was sure the dreams she had had were going to come back now, so suddenly.

Stephanie gasped. She felt her head was spinning, she opened her eyes, willing the motion to stop. By focusing on the lampshade, visible in the weak grey light of early morning, she managed to stop the sensation. She was obviously working too hard. She shivered a little. As she sat up Stephanie realised she was naked; her negligee and duvet had been discarded far across the room, and yet she was bathed in sweat. She could tell from how hard her nipples were and how sodden her pussy was that she had had another of those dreams. She just wished she could remember more of them. She clearly needed a good lay to get it all out of her system. She wondered if Conrad was in town, he was an arrogant bastard, domineering, but somehow that now seemed appealing in a way it had never really done so before. Maybe there could be some fun in being on the bottom, with someone else in the driving seat.

Stephanie got up. The glass from her bedside table had been knocked clear away in her dreamed passions, but the thick carpet had saved it and the only harm done was a small damp patch. She headed to the kitchen and got a new bottle of mineral water from the fridge and refilled her glass before padding back to the bedroom. She glanced at the clock radio and realised that not much more than forty minutes had passed since she had got off the phone to Caroline. She retrieved her duvet and went back to the bed. She was in no mood for sleep at the moment, and she would have to let the sexual side of her body cool down before she could really consider it. She clicked on the bedside light and picked up the rather trashy romance novel she had bought for some reason when in the newsagents’. As she did her hand brushed against the black collar, well both of them in fact. She put the novel aside and picked them up. Now she looked at them closely she could make out more clearly how they were slightly different. The first one had strange embedded crystals around it, the second was perfectly smooth. Stephanie held this one up to her neck. Maybe she did not need Conrad, maybe she just needed some fetish: a plain black collar like this, with that steel ring on the front, now that would shake them up the next time she dined out.

Stephanie yawned, tiredness was catching her up again. She let her hand with the collar in it fall on to the duvet. She looked at the object. How did it attach? That tongue fitted into that clasp, that lock in fact, interesting. She lifted it back up to her neck, but the yawn came again. She would leave it for another day, sleep was taking her once more.

Pheniesta came to attention as she felt the collar lock tight and Jenesytra stepped back. Pheniesta felt more alert now, more awake, more certain. She knew definitely that she was a nubile, a sex-slave; dressed as a nubile in the so tight, so erotic rubber catsuit and boots, and, crucially, in the collar that designated as someone’s possession, their property, their sexual toy. Pheniesta glanced over at Colirena, who now also had been re-collared; they were both ready for the market.

“Stand.” Jenesytra commanded.

The two slaves obeyed and stood while their leashes were attached. A servant opened the door and the pair of nubiles followed their slaveress out to be sold.