I woke in a fuzzy haze as I tried to blink away the confusion. My body was just as slow as my mind to come to reality. Finally, I pushed myself up off the cold floor with shaky arms and leaned against the wall. I didn't have to move far--from the looks of it, I was trapped in an eight-by-six-foot windowless box.
There was no door or seam indicative of an exit, just four perfectly smooth walls, a floor covered in a thin black foam, and a ceiling painted dark to match the rest of the space. My mind was telling me to scream, to fight, but my body was slow to respond. Lethargic and feeling the effects of the drug, I tried to stretch my legs, but they were still too weak to hold me up.
I had no sense of time or any indication of how long I had been unconscious. My phone, wallet, and apron were all gone. Even my shoes and earrings had been removed. I suppose part of me should be relieved that my clothes looked untouched, other than my missing belt.
But where the hell was I?
As if sensing my thoughts, a tiny screen appeared on the wall, or rather, built into the wall? I couldn't find any projector, and the wall was seamless. The soft glow of the screen wasn't very bright, but in the small space, I was thankful for that. My eyes had only just adjusted to the dim lighting and were still sensitive.
"Welcome." A soft automated voice chimed, reading the words displayed on the screen.
"Where am I?" I asked out loud as in case someone was listening.
"That question is not permitted." The voice responded, followed by a red flash of light across the screen.
"Who are you?"
"That question is not permitted." The screen tuned red; it repeated itself like a broken record.
Struggling, I pushed myself up on unsteady legs and leaned into the opposite wall of the screen. It took a lot out of me. The room spun a little bit, but I was able to stay upright.
"What do you want?"
The screen flashed green, and I was instantly relieved. "Your compliance."
"My compliance?" I didn't understand. "What do you mean?"
The screen changed again. "Before you is a contract. Only once you read and sign, agreeing to the terms may you be released." A document appeared on the screen.
AGREEMENT
I, Roisin Ward, do hereby surrender myself, voluntarily and in totality, without limitation to him. In signing this agreement, I offer my complete consensual submission encompassing mind, body, spirit, and sexuality to him and understand that by doing so, I relinquish all worldly processions, decisions, and rights.
The signee accepts him as her Dominant and understands she is his to be dealt with as he pleases. The signee agrees to obey any rules presented to her and will do so at all times without hesitation. The signee will serve him in any manner he wishes to include sexual exploration and gratification. The signee ensures the necessary precautions to maintain good health and well-being; the signee will not put herself in harm's way, drink to excess, or partake in tobacco or other drug use.
By agreeing, the signee acknowledges that she will not be harmed and that her well-being and safety will not be jeopardized in his pursuit of her submission. She recognizes he will not allow any serious injury or risk to interfere with her life, and while she may be punished for rule infractions, she will not be seriously harmed. He agrees to treat her with respect while under his authority and claims all responsibility for the signee's well-being, financial security, and living arrangements."
The signee agrees to these terms for a period of ninety days. At the end of term, if the signee wishes to return to her previous life, she may do so freely.
My stomach dropped, and my legs barely had enough strength in them to hold me up. I had to force myself to continue reading, but all I wanted to do was scream. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the words again, but all I saw was ownership.
Whoever he was, he was sick. He was a delusional psycho if he thought he could own me and have his way with me however he pleased. It made me nauseous.
I heaved over, begging my stomach to stay down, but there wasn't much in it. Another few inhales, and then it struck me. I was never going to get out of here.
I panicked, rushing over to the screen, I felt around its edges looking for a gap, anything that might help me get to escape, but there was nothing.
I was trapped.
Screaming, I threw myself against the wall, hoping my body weight was enough to break through, but I was a tiny thing and merely bounced off the wall.
Without much space to back up, I braced myself and rammed the wall again and then again and again until my body ached in protest.
The digitized voiced chimed overhead, "I must warn you, if you continue to harm yourself, preventative measures will be taken." My thoughts circled back to the section about self-harm. But what the system didn't understand was that I wasn't doing this because I enjoyed pain or sought to hurt myself, but because I was trapped.
There was no other option--well, not one I was willing to take. I'd already told myself I wouldn't sign the agreement; I wouldn't subject myself to the whims of another person, to be considered property.
"I won't be owned," I snarled as I backed myself into the corner and ran at the wall again. Then, shaking off the pain, I turned around and walked back, gearing up for another run when I heard something click. I looked up as a mist filled the cell from above. Instinctively, I covered my mouth and nose but not before I smelled the strange chemical.
If this was the response, then maybe what I was doing was effective; perhaps I was close to breaking out. With one hand covering my mouth and nose, I rammed the wall again, and I felt it give way a little; I had weakened it. Nevertheless, it was working--it had to.
My eyes stung as the mist continued to fill the small space around me and my lungs repelled as a fit of coughing seized me. Then, finally, I heard another click, and the vapors stopped flooding the room, but that was all it took. Even covering my mouth and nose, I had begun to feel its effects.
My body crumpled to the ground, and my eyes blinked away the sting. I couldn't hold my breath any longer; I needed air... Inhaling away from the vapors, I knew it was pointless. I could taste them on my tongue.
Huddling close to the floor, I resisted for as long as I could, but the entire cell had filled with the mist; it was inescapable.
I surrendered, and in seconds, the vapors had swallowed me whole.
*****
My body felt as if I'd been struck by a freight train and left to die in the ditch. The first thing I noticed was that the smell of chemicals was gone, either by natural dissipation or mechanical intervention--I wasn't sure.
I groggily pushed myself up into a sitting position and surveyed the cell. Other than the mist had disappeared, everything was the same.
In the act of desperation, I asked, "What time is it?"
The computer screen replied, "That question is not permitted."
