Owner.

I'll never forgive that office dork.
Not that he uttered as much as a squeak. But, I could tell. Beneath that stuffy scowl perpetually carved in his stone face was a tidal wave of self-satisfied snicker waiting to burst. All throughout my incessant protests. That little rat had been waiting to see me get worked up about something that didn't go my way ever since it became clear it was my way or the highway for me, and the highway lay a hundred and twenty miles behind the bad side of Albuquerque. Something as out-of-left-field as a **** finding its way into my possession must've been such a golden chance for that pencil-pusher. Oh, that was his time to gloat!
Not that he could do anything about it if he wanted to. Her fate was sealed the moment she uttered 'I surrender.'That was all it took for a one-way ticket to slavery.
I was a **** owner.
As far as anyone was concerned, that was natural law.

What's wrong with this world?
It's bad enough when slavery is open only to the privileged few with wealth and connections to procure them. Turns out becoming a ****-owner is a misfortune that can befall any unsuspecting victim! No matter what she says or does!

And no, moving on to the next round isn't any consolation whatsoever!
This Tournament was supposed to be about having fun! I never cared about winning or losing! It was just a silly game! But back in reality, slavery is an affront to everything I stand for!
And now now that's ne. I'm a **** owner! All because chick randomly decided to surrender.

Boy, did I have some words for her!
...At least that's what I thought. I was scratching my head bald just getting a grasp on what I even thought or felt. I'd feel sorry for her, if I wasn't so blisteringly mad! My thoughts swarmed around my head like angry bees as I paced back and forth across my room dumbfounded, while she sat on my bed and watched in silence.
"What were you thinking!?" I uttered in the end, my fingers running through my hair, "You were about to kick my sorry ass! I mean, really! You literally caught me with nothing but a bathing suit! Stomping me out of my misery would've been a piece of cake! But instead you... What? Felt like surrendering your autonomy to some cooky loser? Why!? Why would that even be on the menu?"
"Calm down, mistress..."
...My stomach churned at that word, "Don't call me that!"
"All right........ Allison."

...Shit. That was the **** magic! I ordered her to do something. And she obeyed! Cause that's what slaves are supposed to do!
"No... Just..." I sighed, "Call me whatever you want... But not mistress. Unless you want to. But you shouldn't want that... I mean, want whatever you want but..."

...Gosh darnit!
Nothing revolted me more than being called 'mistress.' Or anything else that'd **** the both of us. That was something I had to make clear to her. But I wasn't gonna tell her not to do that! Not if it meant she couldn't do it on her own accord! Probably was a good idea not to utter a word until I figured out what did or didn't count as a command according to whatever rules that bonkers magic followed.
Rummaging through my trouser pockets, I pulled my cellphone out. I flicked through my various apps and opened up my voice module. I typed out my message and flashed it to her.

"I can assure you, I am no 'mistress' of yours," The phone uttered in the dry voice of Alan Rickman dripping with sarcasm and calm barely contained disdain, "So you are not welcome to address me with such a title."
See, the phone's the one giving commands! Not me. That should mean she'd not be affected by the **** magic, as long as I communicate through the voice module. Not like this world's got any voice modules lying around, so why would they have a mechanism to accomodate for it?
But just to be sure, I picked the least Allison-like voice I could think of. Which of course was the bad guy from Die Hard.

"Hey! It's all right!" Estelle said, "But the answer to your question is really simple: I lost. You won. What was left for me other than to admit defeat?"
"That's...!" I started, but interrupted myself. I typed my reply into my phone instead.
"What manner of imbecilic nonsense is that?" The phone boomed in a contemptfully posh English accent, "Under those circumstaces victory was utterly inconceivable for me. There couldn't possibly have been an outcome more predictable, had the match subsisted."
"Yeah, that's the thing though. I was never gonna fight any longer. I'm not like you. I don't pick and choose what weapon suits me best for the opponent I'm facing. My weapon is my way. That's how I started. That's how it was always going to end. Nothing would please me more than walking the way of the baseball bat until my final breath. You broke my bat: So you defeated the batter."

...Oh. Right. This world doesn't work according to modern sensibilities. A chick following the martial principles of a samurai wouldn't think twice about throwing her life or freedom away for the sake of her honor.
She was a Bat Girl through and through.
"How pitiful. Without any clue about what grotesque fate awaited, you did not hesitate for even a second before throwing your very liberty to the wind. How disdainfully brash."
"Hey, I know a good person when I see her! Not like I was expecting you to keep me enslaved against my will! Had it come down to it though... Yes. I would surrender before I abandoned my way. No matter to whom."
"Then you cared nothing for your own health and safety?"
"Hey now!" She giggled, "You think anyone weak enough to succumb to cruel impulses would ever have the chance against me?"

Yeah, at that point I was at loss for words. Only the people least appropriate to wield it seemed to ever be wielding it.

"Look, no need to get your panties in a know!" Estelle declared, "You don't want a ****? Fine! Don't keep any! Just set me free at your own leisure!"
She had a point. Being a **** owner wasn't exactly something I wanted on my resume, but if there's one thing I believe in, that's learning from ones mistakes and moving on. Even so...
The phone sighed, "Because, I hoped even before this development, that the two of us would turn out good friends."
"Oh." She said, "Yeah. Let's do that! We're sisters from another mister!"
"That is out of the question. The prospect of friendship between us has been tainted, as it will remain for as long as the **** magic that binds us lasts. Friends simply do not have such an inequilibrium of power between them."
Estelle cocked her head, "Well, not like you have to exercise that power if you don't wanna."
"That is not the point!" The phone spat out, "Such matters should not be up to me to begin with! Granted, we may turn out to be exceptional allies. Even so, we are different people with different wants and values. In the event that I want you to do something stupid, it would be abyssmal had I the option to compell you against your will to comply. As it would be had you wanted to do something stupid, but really believed in that. No. This is no friendship. Regardless how it is masqueraded."
Bat Girl scratched her head, "So... You're saying you're discriminating me cause I'm a ****?"
I glared up at her, but couldn't help but smile. Shit... This girl's got sass! God, I wish I could be friends with her.

"Look... Gonna be honest here, I'm not exactly sure what you're on about," Bat Girl reassured me, "But it seems you've got all this backwards! You're saying that I can't be friend and a **** at the same time? Sure. That's fair, I guess. But I gotta call you out when you pick which one has the priority! Friends stick together in hot and cold! Dry and wet! And yes, even when one friend ends up the **** of the other!"
Well... That sure made me shut my voice module for a moment. What does it say about me if I find the responsibility not to use a power I never wanted to be a moral burden? And even if so, some friends are worth a burden!
I stepped towards her, extending her my open hand. She grabbed hold of it tightly. That girl must be half-gorilla or something!
I'm gonna be honest, it hurt like hell. I masked my agonized grimace by trying to twist it into a smile. Considering the frog-tits strength she's shown, I'm just happy not to have my arm ripped off!

Once she'd let go I clenched my fist a few times, making sure my hand was still intact. I wrote down another reply into my voice module.
"Well then. I suppose that is settled... Friend. In time I shall accommodate you a new bat. That would be the least I could do. After all, your last one was totalled at my hands."
She smiled back at me as a response, "Oh, I'd like that! Can't imagine having to lug around my backup bat for the rest of my days!"

I was about to laugh, when I glared down at the clock on my phone.

10:26 AM

"Oh, shit!" I screamed, looking up at her, "Katey's match is about to start!"
Bat Girl rose from the bed, "I'll be coming with you!"
I nodded, signalling her out of the door.

Obviously there was no chance I'd let myself miss her match, but I was kind of hoping I wouldn't get to meet my darling angel so soon after getting hold of a ****. After all the speeches I gave about the horrors of slavery, there's no way she'd ever let me live that down.