<strong>Name:</strong>Janisha<br/><strong>Location:</strong>In a slave clothing store at the slave markets, then in Loader’s car<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Matthew Loader<br/><hr/><br/>She was still fuming. Her jaw was tense and her hands were balled up into her fists by her sides. But she managed to whisper a reply, while avoiding his eyes: “Yes, Master. I’m very happy that you’re caring enough to try to understand a mere, worthless slave, Master.” But her tone was flat and dull, as if she were saying the words without meaning them.<br/><br/>He took her hand and led her again. She was so mad, and the comment about seeing her laid bare didn’t help, she wanted to dig her nails into him, but she did not. That might make him change his mind about how he led his slave around, and being led by the hand was not that bad. Her previous masters had often led her by a leash and collar, and she had seen other slaves led by being pulled by the hair, or by leash and collar but while being forced to walk on all fours. Being led by the hand was not a bad thing, and she did not want to ruin it, so she kept her anger in check, though her expression remained sullen.<br/><br/>She had, of course, been trained in the proper way to walk in heels to please a master. She knew all about rolling her ankles, crossing her steps, and putting sway into her hips. She could make every step into a visual delight for her master, especially in a skirt as tight as this, which would stretch right across the shape of her rear for her master’s viewing pleasure with each step. But she didn’t. She simply walked sullenly and stubbornly, as unappealingly as she could manage without actually stomping her feet.<br/><br/>And when she saw his car, she was confused all over again. He had had enough money to buy her outright... he bought things for his<em>slave</em>without caring about value... and yet he drove in<em>this</em>? Her three previous masters had all been big shot executives at AD, or a CEO of his own company – they travelled in<em>style</em>. This guy was just some punk! But then where was the money coming from?<br/><br/>She obeyed his instructions and took the passenger seat, and as she got in and saw all the screens lit up, a light went on in her own brain.<br/><br/>Her idea was further confirmed when her master opened up a text on computer programming, and invited her to read.<br/><br/>A smile spread across her face – a<em>real</em>smile, the first real smile she’d smiled all day. But it wasn’t a<em>pleasant</em>smile, it was a<em>wicked</em>smile. It was the smile of a villain who had just seen the weakness in the hero’s armour. She reclined in her seat, which further stretched the fabric of her top across her breasts, and crossed her legs for her Master’s viewing pleasure, and rested her hands daintily on her lap. She smiled at her Master, one corner of her lips curling up, with her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Master,” she said in a sweetly modulated tone, “you are so kind to give your unworthy slave the opportunity to learn something new. I will make you very proud of this insignificant slave; I will learn my lessons well, Master, and perhaps I will find a way to use this gift you have given me to serve you better.”<br/><br/>And then she turned her attention to the screen, and started concentrating on learning to code.<br/><br/>Because, now, she knew where her Master’s power came from.