Mokie's cell phone rang at 5am the following morning, jarring her from what had been a restless sleep. She did not recognize the number but had a good idea of who it was.
"Hello?" she answered.
"Good morning, slut," demeaned Jason.
Mokie knew he would expect a "Good Morning, Master," but she did not give it. She waited silently for him to go on.
"Not very talkative this morning, are we?" he said. "I expect a better display of reverence moving forward. But I will excuse that for now. I will be at your place in thirty minutes. We are going for a ride. Be outside your building at 5:30." He hung up without waiting for a response.
Mokie wracked her mind, trying to come up with some way to turn this against him. She felt like last night was about as bad as she could take, but knew that it was tame compared to what he had planned for her. But she did not have enough time to think right now.
She jumped out of bed and ran to the rest room. No time for a shower, she splashed water on her face and washed it with soap. As degraded as she felt, she was shocked at the beautiful girl in the mirror as she toweled herself off. It made her feel a little better knowing that she still had her looks, even if she had relinquished control.
Back in the bedroom, she picked a tight-fitting, pink polo shirt that hugged her form. As with yesterday, no bra was needed. She then pulled on a pink thong and a short white skirt. It only went half way down to her knees and did not cling to her thighs. Any simple little spin or turn and the hem would rise and fall, teasing any guy staring at her. Her toned legs looked stunning in this outfit.
She looked at the clock: 5:20. She headed towards the door, but stopped herself. 'Fuck,' she thought to herself. 'The butt plug.'
She turned back towards the bedroom and found the plug lying on the floor where she had left it. She sat it upright on the floor and squatted over it, as she had before. As she forced it inside her ass, she thought that there must be a better way to do this, but for now it was the only way she knew. She hoped that it would be more comfortable over time, but was not very optimistic.
Jason turned around the corner and saw her from down the block. There was no one else around this early in the morning, so she stood out easily. He pulled up to her and lowered the window.
"Is your plug inserted?" he asked casually, taking the place of the usual pleasantries.
"Yes, Master," she said, now incredibly glad that she remembered it.
"Let me see," he commanded.
"Here, right now?"
"Don't question me, bitch. Turn around and lift up that skirt."
Mokie turned her ass to the window and looked both ways. She saw no one. Quickly, she lifted her skirt and pulled her thong aside.
"Very good, slave. Now get in here."
Mokie put herself back together and entered the car. "Where are we going?" she asked, not sure how he would react to her questioning him.
"Downtown. Don't talk the rest of the way. I am not keeping you around for your conversation."
That was fine by Mokie. The less she had to talk to him the less she considered her horrible situation.
Jason wound his way through a barren downtown LA on this early Tuesday hour. Mokie had no idea where he could be taking her, and decided it was best not to guess. Her meandering imagination could only be worse than the reality...she hoped.
Jason turned down a side street and put the car in park. Mokie surveyed the length of the street, seeing nothing except for a solitary neon sign that was flickering on and off. She could not read it from her angle.
"Get out," Jason said. Mokie did as she was told, and Jason walked around the back of the car and took her hand. He pulled her down the alley towards door beneath the flickering sign. Mokie craned her neck to read it: 'Tattoo and Piercing Parlor.' She panicked.
"Jason, I am not going in here." She yanked her hand out of his grasp.
"I beg to differ, slut," he said, grabbing her upper arm and squeezing it hard. "When you give me head later, I want your tongue to be pierced. Now if you want, we can end this charade right now, but bear in mind that your parents will not only learn of your failure to graduate, but they will see this." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his digital camera, turning the viewing screen towards Mokie.
She gasped and covered her mouth with her free hand as she saw her naked body, folded in half against the wall, her pussy and ass spread towards the camera.
"You wouldn't," said Mokie, testing the waters.
"I'm not fucking around here, Mokie. Now get your ass inside."
"But my parents will certainly see my tongue again. How do I explain it?"
"First of all, slut, you can always take out the stud at any time, unless I demand otherwise. Secondly, stop thinking that I am concerned with any problems you might experience from my treatment of you. I don't care about your mental anguish or any side affects. You only matter to me as an object of sex."
Mokie gave up her fight, and let him lead her inside. If she had considered it any further, she still would have relented. Given the way she was dressed and the neighborhood they were in, if she were to make a run for it she probably would have ended up gang-raped and left on the curb. She followed a couple of steps behind, her shoulders slumped in resignation.
The inside of the parlor smelled of cigarettes and cheap beer. Mokie cringed as she felt her sandals stick against the tacky floor.
"Jason, my man!" said a big, burly man in black jeans and a wife beater. Tattoos covered both of his arms, his chest and neck.
"Alonzo, my friend. Good to see you," Jason answered, stepping forward and shaking his hand. "This is the girl I was telling you about. Say hello, slut."
"Hello," Mokie mumbled weakly, trying to avoid eye contact.
The slap came quickly, snapping her head from left to right. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the blur of Jason's hand rising to her face, but there was no time to react.
