We went to the DJ night, which was the end of the fest. Since it was the end of the fest everyone was sloshed and high and all couples were getting to...chy with each other. Aksha was still in her dress. We both were dancing really close to each other sometimes grinding our hips together and my hand was mostly around her waist or ass. In between, she came close to me and whispered that she has gone commando (pantyless). When she said that I held her tight and kissed her neck making her moan. Luckily they’d made that pretty easy for her. In a way though, that was part of the ingenuity of what they’d done. Every orgasm merely reinforced the changes, and ensured their lasting influence. They’d turned her into her own jailor. They’d made her love what she’d been turned into. Breakfast was a coffee and a croissant, quickly devoured to leave ample time for her to clean up and get ready for her first client. He was an elegant but young businessman, South American, a regular. They were. “Are you all right, mate?”Lionel nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course.” He looked around as he went to leave the train. “I missed my stop.”“Next one back is on the other platform,” the guard said, shaking his head. It happened all the time. Drunk, doped up or simply too dozy to notice; they all ended up at the end of the line eventually. This one looked relatively normal though. Apart from the rather pre-occupied expression on his face.“Thanks.” Lionel stepped out of the carriage and headed towards the. “Bad?” she asked.“I dodged a falling board too slow. The nails missed, but it was on fire. I’ve had worse when burning scrap. I don’t even think the shirt’s scorched.”“Only hurts when you laugh?”He did laugh at that. He gripped her then, and pulled her into a kiss. His lips were hard against hers, and his tongue tickled hers. She felt the beginning of his whiskers against her cheek, the firm clasp of his hard fingers on her shoulder, the twist in her body as her legs lay back and her torso was.