A/N: Hey guys! As promised, here is the brilliantly dark story from TGHall and me. We wanted to write a story that was a tough, but rewarding dramatic ride for Emison fans. This story is about slavery, but it is NOT anywhere close to the kinky kind of BDSM slavery, so if that is what you're looking for you're not going to find it here. We wanted to release this before the finale, because the lack of Emison is driving us nuts. We love the characters on the show, but we also love the characters we've exaggerated and created and we hope you enjoy them too.

So sit back and enjoy the ride, and I actually mean it when I say this time, we literally have 80k+ words already written and that's only for Part 1 of this epic story. #ItsNoLie. This story is gonna be long saga. If you're wondering why this time is different, I can confidently say it's because TGHall literally forces me to write when I don't want to. The only reason this story is seeing the light of day is because we started this together and she wouldn't let me abandon it. So, just sayin'.

FAIR TRIGGER WARNING: If you are sensitive to any abuse, mental disorders, etc—this story is filled with touchy subject matter, so read with discretion. Violence, Language, Implied Sexual Assault and Generally horrible people. (Also, if you love Maya, you might want to sit this one out).

Chapter 1

5 Years Ago

"Please, please don't do this," a young blonde girl with teary blue eyes begs as her older brother forcefully holds her still. One of his hands grasps her wrists behind her back, twisting painfully, and the other hand is around her neck commanding her to stand still. Everything from before is a blur – one minute she's walking into her sad excuse of a home, the next she's being dragged away by her very own flesh and blood, her own siblings.

"I said shut up, Alison," the gruff boy growls in her ear. The two watch as their sister, Alison's twin Courtney, holds her broken arm in a sling with a cold look. She stands stiffly in debate with an older man, his face unpleasant and scarred. The man is clearly a haughty and powerful lowlife. Alison can tell by the way he carries himself, and by the way he dresses.

"Twenty thousand, not a penny more," the man states firmly and his steely eyes dare Courtney to challenge him. He knows they're in a tough position and that he can strong-arm them anyway he likes.

"You agreed to twenty five," Courtney spits back bitterly, everything about her body is tense—the very air in this place gives her the creeps.

"What are you gonna do about it, kitten, call the cops?" he growls threateningly as he leers down towards her. "You'll be lucky if you can find anyone who'll give you twenty in cash."

"You said twenty five," Courtney stresses, refusing to be threatened by this scum. She glances at her twin out of the corner of her eye and cringes internally at the way Alison is staring at her desperately, pleading with those baby blues. "She's hardworking and-"

"I don't care, sweet cheeks, I buy 'em and I sell 'em. I don't ask questions and I sure as hell don't give answers. People I deal with—no ones really interested in labour, you hear me?" He gets up into Courtney's face, his breath like acid. His eyes roam over her freely and Courtney tries to suppress her shiver. She knows exactly what this means for her sister."She's got a pretty face, and a tight little body. That's all that matters."

"Invest in some breath mints," Courtney snaps, her hand slides her jacket back to reveal her concealed blade. "I'm not here for a fight but we didn't come to get swindled either."

"Jason please, there has to be another way," Alison tries to reason again in a tiny voice but there is no response from her big brother. She realizes how dangerous and dire the situation is, and how helpless she has become. Alison had cried and begged the whole way to this hellhole, and neither Courtney or Jason had shown any empathy, just cold steely indifference. As hard as she tries, Alison simply can't understand what she did to deserve this.

"Fine, twenty one," Courtney caves and Alison can feel her composure completely shattering. This can't be happening.

"Done," the older man grunts as he hands Courtney some papers to sign. As soon as she does, he snatches them back and throws a small bag of cash at her. "Now hand her over."

Jason nods and begins to walk her over roughly, Alison's eyes widen as she begins to panic.

"Please! Please don't, Courtney! Jason! Stop! Stop! Stop-"

Alison is cut off as another stranger steps forward and roughly seizes her by the back of the neck. She's dragged over to a table near the furnace and shoved against it, her face slammed down on the wood as her body is bent over it.

"We'll get you back one day," Courtney murmurs apathetically, her sea-green eyes blank and empty.

"Don't leave me here," Ali begins to cry, her voice cracking, hands tighten around her neck as her siblings look on in silence.

"Come on, let's go," Jason mutters under his breath and Courtney nods, but the two are slow to leave – their eyes lingering on their baby sister just a moment longer.

Alison's eyes widen as another stranger pulls a metal pole back from the furnace, and she realizes it's a branding iron. The end of it is a familiar brand that she knows well, and it's red hot from the heat of the fire. She never imagined that she would have to bare the brand.

"No!" Alison begins to shriek in terror as the man comes closer and grabs her hand, pulling her forearm out and resting it along the table, the other person holds her still.

"Let's go, now!" Jason hisses and Courtney tears herself away, leaving quickly with her brother, clutching the cash tightly. The man stoically grips Ali's arm still and presses the hot metal to her smooth skin in one swift move. And the only sound is a piercing, painful scream that cuts through the night.

Present Day

"What do you mean you didn't eat today?"

"I don't know, nobody made me food," Emily Fields, a tall, tan, and gorgeous swimmer, shrugs nonchalantly as she throws her hands up in a puzzled manner. She looks at her infamous agent, Cece Drake, who glares daggers at Emily's partial entourage in the distance. Cece loves her favorite client to death but the posse that Emily insists on taking everywhere, well, they're easily distracted and Cece feels like she's running a one woman show. Cece's normally beautiful blonde curls are in disarray from running around the event, and her pretty eyes have small bags under them that she hasn't bothered to cover up.

"Listen, Emily, sweetheart, you know I adore you, you're a total babe – except when you are running on an empty stomach! You are dealing with the press all day and I refuse to have you snapping at people like a fucking piranha."

"Look I don't know what to tell you, I don't cook," Emily coolly argues back, amused at how flustered her poor agent is.

"What about Spencer? She's your fucking manager, shouldn't she be taking care of these things?"

"She's also in law school, remember? She had a big test to study for earlier."

"She's supposed to make sure that her client is on her best behaviour, especially when she's unveiling the newest fucking BMW series and doing major press for her upcoming meet."

"Then you talk to her," Emily grouses. Her irritation is rising quickly. She loves Cece, but how many times does she have to spell it out for the blonde that this, like many other things, isn't really Emily's problem.

"Fine, maybe it's time you buy someone to help you out," Cece sighs as she raises an eyebrow and asks the dreaded question.

"Like from the private markets? I don't think I need one," Emily argues, shaking her head at the mere thought of owning someone. She's grown up with the ideology drilled into her head, but it's never settled well with her. Her parents blamed her grandfather—he had never owned a slave in his life and had always insisted that the worth of man was measured by the worth he placed on others. It was a philosophy Emily tried to adopt though her appointed pedestal by the media and fans tainted her worth and theirs. Everyone wanted something from everyone else, savoury and unsavoury alike.

"Someone that could just do little things that those three apparently can't, even though you pay them," Cece huffs as she tries to get her point across.

"They're my friends, just relax," Emily brushes her off. "No slaves. Period. I'm gonna go look for food okay? Does that sound good?"

"Fine, just don't drink orange juice – you know how your stomach hates acidic food."

"I know, I know," Emily rolls her eyes as she pats Cece's shoulder.

"Hang on," Cece mutters grabbing the nearest slave who passes them. "You're a Fitzgerald slave, right?"

The slave nods unfazed by the angry blonde woman.

"Good. Show her where the fucking food is," Cece shoves the man a little more forcefully than she intended and walks away with a frustrated grunt. He stumbles into Emily who catches him and keeps him upright.

"Sorry about her she's a bit cranky," Emily smiles politely at her new friend. If he shows her where the food is she just might buy him, though she admits the whole idea would still make her uncomfortable.

"Miss Fields," the slave politely interrupts her thoughts and gestures that he would like her to follow him.

"Right lead the way, dude," Emily pats him on the shoulder like they're drinking buddies and the slave quirks an eyebrow at the odd form of address.

"Come on now, I'm hungry," Emily urges pleasantly and the slave tries to smother his amused grin. Emily has this effect on almost everyone.

"Can we smile while we find food," Emily quips amused though her stomach growls loudly.

He nods once and turns on his heel setting a fast pace through the crowd. Emily hurries to keep up and catches people staring at her. She looks down at the tight black dress she's wearing. It has one shoulder strap, and it hugs her curves while showing off her long, lean legs.

The dress is so over the top, and Emily is going to kill Hanna because when she said something breathable she didn't mean a mid-thigh fucking slit. And, yes it's gorgeous, as all of Hanna's creations are. She is after all one of the hottest new designers in the world of fashion. But Emily is too worried about accidentally flashing people when she bends over or something to be comfortable in this dress.

Cece is not having any of her pouting about it though and she's been reminded six times since they got to this stupid event that everyone is watching and everyone wants to see their star shine. And that's her—Emily Fields the shining star of the American swim team and all around American sweetheart. She's skilled enough to be a world champion athlete, and beautiful enough to be a supermodel. Cece had found her at the beginning of her career at the young age of eighteen– claiming she could help Emily capitalize on her fame. And Cece has stayed true to her word.

But Emily is easily annoyed by events like this, events that she has to turn up to and promote some useless product that is only vaguely attached to sports or women in general. The BMW series is a pretty cool brand though, she'll admit. Still, the majority of gigs aren't as glamorous - the yogurt commercial she did still haunts her online.

Spencer had been so thrilled when she helped land this gig that its all she's talked about for weeks now. Because not only is Emily getting a hefty check, but she's also getting one of the new series for free.

Emily huffs as she searches for food with the slave, and she realizes shortly that Cece is correct. She really does get irritable when she's hungry. And right now she can't focus on anything but how annoyed she is by the dress, by Cece's overbearing tendencies, by Spencer's enthusiasm, and by the way her pals, Aria and Hanna, are fawning over all the glamour and guys – and most of all, she's annoyed that her girlfriend has left her side and disappeared since the moment they arrived. If all that wasn't bad enough, the event is either dry or Emily can't find the open bar that was promised. That's all she really wants right now, she just wants a fucking drink.

x-x-x

Later, Emily smiles brightly at a little girl who bounds over to her and politely asks for a picture and autograph. The brunette pleasantly obliges, and she gives Cece a sharp look when the blonde tries to subtly hurry the child along. If there is one thing Emily has learnt it's that brand executives have fickle loyalties, but her fans are what keep her in the pool. She crouches down and signs a couple of posters and smiles for a few pictures when others come forward. She doesn't hate this part of the job, but Cece's incessant huffing and puffing in her ear the whole time today dampens her mood somewhat. Anyone would think Cece owned her if they didn't know who Emily was.

Emily understands that she may have screwed up at the last promotional event, but sometimes reporters asked her the dumbest questions. Still, she knows she shouldn't have answered with "go fuck yourself" to any question, no matter how stupid. So she understands why Cece is on edge, it's just driving her nuts.

"You incompetent bitch!"

The shout cuts through the crowd from the side and Emily looks up from signing a poster, her muscles instantly tense. She may not be the most pleasant person to be around all the time, especially when she's hungry, but even she can hold her tongue when there are children present. The harsh voice makes her skin crawl unpleasantly and her blood boils.

"I…sorry…" a small voice nervously stutters through the hushed crowd and Emily can't get a good look through the people as she cranes her neck.

"You're a good for nothing, lazy piece of shit!"

Emily shoves past onlookers and darts forward at the sound of a resounding echo of skin meeting skin. She can recognize the sound of a backhand.

Emily breaks through the crowd just in time to see an arrogant dickhead, covered in coffee, raising his hand for another strike on a cowering blonde on the ground. Without a second thought, the athletic brunette is shielding the girl by the time his pudgy hand swings at her forcefully. The loud slap echoes as the crowd gasps collectively. Emily takes the brunt of it on her cheek and hisses low at the pain.

The man is completely caught off guard, his hand falling to his side as he just stares at Emily in disbelief. He recognizes her instantly and his face pales. The crowds are murmuring and growing and Cece is pushing through as all eyes await Emily's reaction. The brunette looks up furiously, her brown eyes fierce and her jaw locked with determination despite her throbbing cheek.

"Emily-" Cece tries to jump in and reason with her client, years of knowing this girl and her incredibly short fuse have her panicked. Cece can see where this is all going and it's not good. The brunette defiantly stares down the dickhead after she glances at the blonde on the ground to make sure she's okay.

"You…you jumped in the way," the man splutters stupidly. "I was teaching her-"

"Sir," Emily interrupts darkly and looks down once more at the blonde girl quivering on her knees in a tacky, barely appropriate red dress. She hasn't looked up yet and is hidden under her blonde locks. Emily catches sight of the barbaric brand on the girl's wrist as her hand cradles her stinging cheek. "She may be your property but she is still a person."

"Now is not the time to get into a slave rights debate," Cece mutters harshly into her ear.

Emily pulls away from her agent as she straightens up and glares at the man. The paparazzi are swarming and even the general crowd have their phones out. The man catches sight of their audience too.

"She's mine to do with as I please," the man retorts crossing his arms likes he's won. "If I want to hit her, I'll hit her. If I wanna fucking beat her, I'm gonna-"

Emily cocks her hand back and punches him in the nose before he can finish that sentence. As she does, she hears the sound of a hundred cameras flashing. Its like a media feeding frenzy as the man hits the floor and Emily shakes out her fist.

Cece puts a hand to her forehead in exasperation and tries to remain professional. This just went from a glamorous event to a brawl, apparently.

"That fucking hurt," Emily mumbles cradling her hand.

"I can't take you anywhere," Cece grumbles as she moves over to help the man stand.

"She hit me!" he cries getting to his feet. "You all saw it."

"Sir," Cece gently soothes in her most professional voice. "This has all been an incredible misunderstanding-"

"Misunderstanding?" He bellows, shaking with anger. "She assaulted me and I have it on film."

Cece slides closer to the repulsive, disgusting brute of a man.

"How much to make this go away?" She whispers.

"How much you got?" He mutters back, his eyes already flashing with greed.

"More than you'd know what to do with, asshole," Emily throws in snidely, glaring at him.

"Not helping," Cece hisses at Emily. It always amazes Cece that America's sweetheart has the worst temper and can be fierce as hell when she feels like it—a true force to be reckoned with. In case Cece ever forgets, she's always reminded in painful moments like this. Emily Fields is her most rewarding client, and her most torturous one.

"I'm sure we can work something out," Cece suggests as the man looks like he's going to start another fight.

Emily rolls her eyes at Cece's charm and instead looks to the still cowering blonde. The poor girl's head tilts up for a fraction of a second and wide frightened blue eyes lock with Emily's brown before they disappear under blonde locks again as the girl continues to shake and withdraw into herself. The helpless look of desperation triggers something within Emily, and the brunette instantly makes a decision.

"We'll take the girl too," Emily commands firmly as she turns to Cece. The older blonde's face contorts into one of frustration at the demand.

"Emily-"

"She's not for sale," Dickhead claims as he crosses his arms triumphantly.

"Cece," Emily glares at the man. "Explain why this man should rethink his tone."

"Emily, I will handle this, take your new friend and go," Cece huffs and waves Emily off.

The man stares in disbelief, ready to fight for his ownership. "I just said-"

"I'm about to make you very rich," Cece cuts him off sharply. "Because my friend is very stupid. Keep your mouth shut, don't speak a word to the press, and you'll come out on top."

He considers it and Cece sighs, running a hand through her hair. Always cleaning up Emily's messes like a nanny. She does not get paid enough for this.

Meanwhile, the brunette crouches down slowly in front of the girl, very aware of the press recording every detail.

"Are you okay?" Emily asks in a low voice, trying not to let the audience hear anything else.

The blonde girl nods quickly, as if trying to avoid trouble.

"Come with me," Emily advises confidently as she eyes Cece shaking hands with the sleaze bag. She looks back and is startled when the cowering blonde looks up at her fully for the first time. Her baby blue eyes are wide and terrified as she tries to hold Emily's gaze.

"N-now?" the blonde asks unsure, afraid of upsetting one more person. Emily nods. She can see the angry red imprint from the backhanded slap on the girl's pale skin and it infuriates her. Her eyes rake over the blonde quickly, examining her. The mystery girl has the most expressive, beautiful blue eyes and gorgeous long blonde hair that shapes her pretty baby face. No wonder this dickhead was hesitant to sell her. Probably a pervert, Emily thinks, though she's innocently underestimating just how disgusting he truly he is.

"I just bought you. Come on, let's go backstage," Emily tries to keep her tone kind and soft but she's more than anxious to escape all the flashing cameras that it comes out as more demanding than she meant.

The girl scrambles to her feet hastily and flashes a very quick smile of appreciation before shrinking back at the sight of her previous owner glaring at her. She sees the other blonde also glaring at her new owner.

"Backstage Em, right now."

x-x-x

"One hundred thousand dollars, Emily!" Cece practically shouts while pacing as the brunette sips on a glass of red wine she'd finally been able to find. Emily lounges on the couch in the backroom behind the main showcase. The new blonde stands feebly by the door, hanging her head slightly, wishing to make herself invisible. Emily can't help but let her eyes rake over her rather exposed body in her rumpled dress. "That's a tenth of your paycheck. That's how much I'm supposed to make."

"You said I should buy someone, well here, I bought someone," Emily shrugs.

"Someone capable of taking care of you, not some fucking mute," Cece argues as Emily rolls her eyes. She turns towards the blonde and emphasizes every word as she huffs in frustration. "Can you even speak?"

"Y-yes ma'am," the blonde pipes up, having trouble making eye contact. Her hands fidget with each other.

"What's your name?" Cece tries to be patient as she asks slowly, knowing that none of this is the poor girl's fault.

"Alison," the girl breathes out softly, and Emily thinks the name fits her nicely. But her agent sighs dramatically and shakes her head.

"I'm getting a raise from you," Cece grunts at Emily after a moment of thought.

"Good for you," Emily raises her glass in a mock cheers. "You've earned it."

"I hate you so much right now, Emily Fields," Cece mutters darkly. "So much."

"What's the big deal?" Emily asks casually as she leans back on the couch, one hand holding her head and the other holding the wine glass. "So I punched a guy. But he punched me first."

Cece opens her mouth, ready to answer, when the door opens and a thin, smaller girl appears with a devious smirk on her face. Now the blonde agent really feels her blood pressure begin to rise cause this is just what she fucking needs. Not.

"Hi baby," the dark-haired girl coos drunkenly as she eyes Emily. She's clearly found her own party as she sways on her feet with a giggle. But she immediately senses the tension in the room as she looks from the brunette on the couch to the two blondes standing. She makes her way over to Emily immediately and kisses her aggressively as Cece clears her throat loudly, annoyed. The girl breaks the kiss smoothly and coyly winks at Cece. "It's good to see you too, Cece."

"Maya, always a pleasure," Cece grunts sarcastically and rolls her eyes. She loathes Emily's girlfriend. If she could get away with murder, it wouldn't even be a question. This horrible, privileged, insufferable bitch would be six feet under and the world would be a better place for it. Maya drops down into the athlete's lap side-saddle, her drunkenness apparent.

"I heard you got into a fight," Maya whispers into Emily's ear, nipping at it. "Did someone stare at my ass again?"

Maya laughs as Emily grips her thighs possessively while trying to stay focused.

"No," Emily murmurs as she nods her head towards the timid blonde who stands awkwardly, trying to keep her head down. "He hit Alison so I hit him back."

"Alison?" Maya tilts her head as her dark eyes examine the slave girl. Alison looks up, she knows a command when she hears one, Maya quirks an eyebrow before nodding and Alison obediently hangs her head again. The others don't seem to know what to do with a slave but Alison gets a feeling Maya has broken more than her fair share. The energy that radiates off the girl makes Alison skin crawl and it's as powerful as it is dangerous.

"Emily just bought her," Cece says smugly, and she takes great pleasure in how Maya's face clouds over with envy.

"Bought her? But you're always so against-"

"It's not like that," Emily reassures her girlfriend quickly. "Some asshole was mistreating her and-"

"Aw," Maya drawls like she's talking to a puppy. She presses Emily's cheeks together much to the chagrin of the brunette. "And you just couldn't let the cute little slave get hurt."

Emily pushes Maya hands away. She hates when her girlfriend babies her. Maya notices her discomfort and places a placating kiss to her lips.

"You know I'm just playing, baby," Maya mumbles against her mouth as she pulls away.

"Gross," Cece gags. "I'm going to go find your little entourage and let them know they have damage to take care of. Get ready because you have to unveil the series, and then we're leaving."

Cece storms out, pausing as she stops by Alison who shyly looks at her quickly before looking away. Poor kid. She can't imagine the emotional whiplash this girl is enduring between being humiliated in public and changing owners without notice. Not that Cece thinks the blonde will miss her previous owner. She sighs and exits the room, determined to right things with the campaign.

Emily settles her hands back on Maya's thighs and rolls her eyes. She sneaks a glance at her new slave (god, she hates that word) and is surprised to find Alison looking at her as well with wide, curious eyes—and she realizes maybe the blonde doesn't know who she is, or that she's gay. She tries to smile reassuringly at Alison but the blonde quickly ducks her head again. Her girlfriend notices the exchange and wiggles her body against Emily to catch the brunette's attention again.

Maya pouts turning back to look over the blonde as she traces a finger down Emily's gaping cleavage and into her dress. Emily's eyes flutter as her breathing slowly becomes affected.

"Slave girl is kind of cute though," Maya suggests licking her lips as she stares at Alison. "I'm sure she'll be lots of fun."

Alison catches the look out the corner of her eye, she knows it all too well and tries to block out Maya's penetrating gaze with her blonde hair, it doesn't really work though.

"Hey," Emily exclaims, gripping Maya's wandering hand. "Stop that."

"What if she wants a show?" Maya teases, her eyes flashing wickedly at Alison as she feeds off the blonde discomfort. "We've had a few horny little slaves at home, thanks to my brother."

"I have to get ready," Emily disregards Maya's disgusting comment and shrugs her girlfriend off of her. There are many lifestyle choices the two of them don't see eye to eye on, and the humane treatment of slaves is one of them.

"But, baby," Maya pouts and Emily waves her off, her senses coming back as Maya's body is no longer torturously wriggling against her.

"You had no problem ditching me earlier, so I'm sure you can find something to do while I work."

"Fuck you, Emily," Maya grumbles as she angrily marches to the door. She stops by Alison, grabbing her chin and forcing the blonde to look at her closely. Alison's heart is pounding as Maya's fingers dig painfully into her skin. She can feel Maya's eyes undressing her as the drunk girl shamelessly examines her, but its when those dark eyes meet her own blue ones that Alison is truly frightened because there is something menacing in Maya. Alison holds the gaze and tries not to shake.

"Let her go, Maya," Emily warns as she moves over to a mirror to start reapplying her makeup.

"Why? Cause she's yours? What's mine is yours, remember?" Maya sneers tightening her grip on Alison. Emily ignores her and Maya huffs, tossing Alison aside as she lets go of her. "Fine. But if you think I'm fucking you tonight you're wrong."

"We'll see about that," Emily dismisses her.

"Watch it," Maya growls as she steps out the door. "Or it's gonna be you and your fucking hand for a long time."

"You love my fucking hand," Emily shouts after her girlfriend.

The door slams and Emily rolls her eyes for the hundredth time. Suddenly, it's too quiet. Emily turns around to see Alison hesitantly standing in the same position.

"You can move you know," Emily conversationally notes as she watches Alison pause and try to figure out what to do. "Go sit on the couch or something. There's wine, and there's ice in the fridge if your cheek still hurts."

Alison hesitates in indecision so Emily turns back to the mirror very aware she has been staring at Alison for a while now.

"He had an iron hand huh? Bastard probably left a bruise on my face too."

Emily watches in the reflection as Alison slowly makes her way to the couch and sits down cautiously, unsure if this is a trap. Alison is used to cruelty, used to people setting her up and treating her nicely one minute only to lash out and viciously attack her the next.

"I'll have someone get a change of clothes for you. That looks pretty uncomfortable," Emily gestures towards what the blonde is wearing and Alison looks down, her cheeks turning red instantly. Is her new owner making fun of her already?

"You don't talk much do you?" Emily asks rhetorically as she tries to see how bad the damage to her own face is.

"No ma'am," Alison softly admits, trying to be as polite as possible. She's a little confused. Does this girl want her to talk? This brunette is very strange, Alison thinks. First she threw herself in front of Ali to protect her, and now she's offering her wine and teasing her for not talking. Is this a joke? Is she being made fun of? Does Emily want her drunk for later? Her girlfriend is obviously angry and Emily had mentioned sex? Oh god, she doesn't know the first thing about pleasuring a girl.

"Emily, you can call me Emily," the brunette instructs gently and Alison sees her new owner's small smile in the mirror.

She nods obediently, but she's still very confused. What does Emily want with her?

"My agent told me I had to buy someone to help me out when I'm stressed," Emily continues talking trying to fill the silent room with anything other than Alison's soft worried breaths. Emily thinks the blonde reminds her of a scared little woodland creature with a heart rate thats always just too high. "And what can I say, when I saw you I had to have you."

There's a joking tone to the brunette's words but Alison feels her stomach lurch—this definitely isn't the first time she's heard she is to "help relieve someone's stress". She knows her…purpose, and she knows most people relieve their stress by taking it out on her body. What if Emily does plan to abuse her on top of using her? The horrible thought crosses Alison's mind that Emily only saved her so she could have a go at her. It's a terrible way of thinking, but for Ali it's a natural instinct. For her, trust ended the moment Courtney signed the papers.

Emily clears her throat awkwardly and the blonde instantly looks at her, nodding quickly in response to whatever the brunette had last said. Alison takes a moment to really take in her new owner as brown eyes examine her too. She knows how controversial the new gay rights movement is, her previous owner had made quite a few nasty remarks about it. But Alison has never seen such a…such a beautiful girl with another girl. And the fact that Emily is gay doesn't bother her. Alison thinks she could get used to Emily, maybe. It's her devilish girlfriend that has Alison quivering and wanting to run. The thought that Emily wants them both make Alison want to bolt. Ali's never been subjected to two people at once and she's always consider it a blessing but it seems Emily's girlfriend has other plans. She feels her stomach churn unpleasantly at the idea.

"Emily!" The door flies open and Cece bursts in again. The blonde is clearly distressed. "We have a problem."

x-x-x