A longtime friend of hers, David Laren, had called her a few months ago with an...unusual proposition. They shared a mutual fondness for Dominance, particularly control over young, pretty, submissive young women. She had seen pictures of the girl who had been his 24/7 live-in sub for the last four years, a girl name Julia - a leggy brunette with a nice chest and an immensely smackable rear. And how, he needed a favor, and it concerned Julia.<br/><br/>"I've got a work engagement, every year that lasts for a few months. It's unavoidable, and I try not to take Julia along - it raises too many questions and complicates things. Not to mention there's a few places I end up where an unmarried couple aren't so welcome. I've...well, I've taken to loaning her out to close friends, hoping they'll keep her occupied and she'll pick up a few skills along the way. She's never subbed to a woman, not for more than maybe half-an-hour at a con. Would you consider..."<br/><br/>---<br/><br/>Three days later, a shipping crate arrived on her doorstep, wheels attached to make it easier to get inside. There were holes poked in the side, but beyond that it was nondescript. Inside waited Julia. It was always like this - David would never tell her where she was going, saying that was part of their "Little game". He'd fold her into a tight, huddled ball, wrap her with leather straps to immobilize her, wrap a blindfold around her eyes and pack her mouth with a jaw-aching ball gag. The last thing she'd feel is a jab of a shot full of sedative in her firm, tense rump and she'd be...somewhere else. Once it was a swanky New York apartment. Another time she came to to the smell of dry hay and animals. She moaned softly into her gag, a line of drool dripping down her chin, wondering where she was.<em>Whose</em>she was.