The events of that fateful night continued to replay in Deanna's head over and over like an endless loop.

It was supposed to have been a simple business trip, a few days of work no different than any of the others over the past several years.

If only . . .

If only she hadn't been so determined to make good time.

If only she hadn't taken that shortcut through the back roads.

If only she hadn't gotten that flat tire.

If only her cell phone had worked.

If only someone else had spotted her first.

There she was, in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere, staring down at the collapsed tire, wondering how she was going to fix it dressed in Manolo Blahnik heels, Wolford hose, and a Donna Karan suit. Then THEY had come along, three good ol' boys straight out of the Dukes of Hazzard in their pickup truck. They overpowered her, tied her up, and threw her in the back, an empty cardboard box for a twelve-pack duct-taped over her head.

They had taken her to a farm and stripped her of all her clothing, even her imported La Perla bra and panties, then shoved her in a horse stall in the stable.

The next few months were a nightmare. After they had harnessed and bridled her the following day, she was broken in and trained like a horse. They quickly broke down her inhibitions, forcing her to go around naked, handling her body, taking care of her personal hygiene, making her obey commands like a dumb animal, training her to relieve herself outside in the open. All of these things would have been unthinkable before her abduction. If she balked, they gave her a beer enema, or threatened to use her as a human urinal.

There was endless hours of training. They made her canter, trot, and gallop, and forced her to run in circles while leashed to a post in the field until she was ready to drop. They hitched her to a cart and had her pull them down deserted back roads. They demanded that she follow petty little rules and obey pointless little commands just for the sake of forcing her into submission. After many tears and countless whippings, she was deemed ready for work. She hated following their orders, but no other course of action was possible. She allowed them to put her in a horse trailer, strap her in securely, and block her senses with a blindfold and earplugs.

The trip took hours, and she was sure they were going around in circles to confuse her, though she probably wouldn't have known where she was anyway, as she became almost delirious from the baking heat of the enclosed trailer. Only the nasty smell from her piss and shit on the floor kept her from fainting outright.

They left her at a bed-and-breakfast run by a kindly elderly couple. She got the disquieting feeling that she had been sold, as she never saw her kidnappers again. Her new job was to give sulky rides through the woods for guests. Thank God she was in good shape, as she was forced to jog down miles of dirt track pulling someone in a small cart. The humidity, the slight uphill grades, the swarms of mosquitos, and the boorish behavior of the riders made each trip a hellish ordeal. Sometimes it rained, and she had no choice but to pull the heavy cart through the mud while getting soaked to the skin. As if that wasn't humiliating enough, they fed her laxatives and diuretics so that she would relieve herself during the rides, a spectacle which-- she learned-- guests paid extra for. The only good thing was that they dressed her in open-bottomed girdles and sports bras (even if the centers of the cups had been cut out so that her nipples could poke through).

It was the husband's job to dress her in the morning and wash her down at night, a job which he evidently relished. She was kept in a bare wooden stall and fed leftovers and table scraps from the diners. Deanna knew nothing of the outside world save for the occasional facts she overheard from boarders' conversations.

She missed her cigarettes, her lattes, her comfortable bed and designer clothes. Hell, she missed her dignity and the challenge of her job. She was not a mule-- she was an intelligent woman with a degree and a six-figure salary! Did anybody care? Did anybody miss her? She had no idea. And escape seemed to be out of the question-- the couple kept a tight rein (literally and figurately) on her at all times.

All of the guests struck her as creepy, but none more so than the man who requested rides twice a day for the two weeks he stayed there. Every night, Deanna prayed that he would be gone the next day, but he would show up again each morning. Then one day she was led out to a horse trailer and strapped in. Standing there immobilized, her world dark and silent once more, she got the distinct feeling that she was going to be seeing much more of Mr. Creepy. As the trailer lurched into motion, she knew only one thing-- that she had been sold once again.

Copyright 2005 by Sogo.