Robert Ferro, white male, mid-thirties.

"Very good, Elana. Waiting like a good girl. Not what I usually get from the redheads." the handler spoke at last in a pleasant masculine voice. "My name is Mister Ferro. I will be handling you for the duration of your active status. You will address me as Sir or Mr. Ferro. I am obligated to remind you that you will not come to any lasting harm while in my charge, but short of that condition you are considered to be solely my property, to do with as I please. Is this clear?"

Elana's mouth felt dry. This was all happening very quickly. She nodded. "Y-yes, sir." This man seemed completely at ease, standing over a kneeling, naked girl he'd only just met. It made Elana feel awkward and inexperienced. Part of her was thrilled at the idea that this man knew precisely what he was doing when it came to handling an untrained submissive like her. It's what she wanted; to just give all control over to someone she could count on.

"Good. First, I'm changing your name. Elana is a nice name, fit for a sweet, wholesome, productive member of society. You are none of those things. Your new name is Honeycunt. Now repeat that back to me."

The heat in Elana's lightly-freckled cheeks was so intense that she felt she might burst into flames. It was mirrored by an equally powerful heat of arousal, however, and despite never ever using such dirty language, she didn't dare test Mr. Ferro's patience so soon. "M-my name is Honeycunt." The foul word felt strange in her mouth, but she enunciated each letter clearly, feeling the word echo in her ears. Her shame burned like a branding iron. Honeycunt. What a horrible, degrading name. Why did it turn her on so much?

Mr. Ferro was typing on something, a phone, perhaps? After a moment, there was another cheerful notification sound and a mechanical voice spoke, "NAME CONFIRMED." He slipped the device back into the front pocket of his slacks.

"Well, then, Honeycunt, now that introductions are out of the way, let's see what you know. Present." He spoke the last word with a firm tone, as though he commanded a trained animal.

A customer walked past the two of them on his way out the door, and Elana heard the shutter-click sound effect of a photo being taken. She still hadn't lifted her eyes from the floor to see her handler's face; she had no idea who he was or what he looked like, and for some reason that made the whole scenario so much more erotic for her. It wasn't for her to worry about such things, her only role was to hear and obey.

But what did present mean? It tickled a faint memory in Elana's mind, and as she focused on it it became clear. She turned herself around on her knees and bent forward, pressing one cheek to the floor and lifted her hips to give Mr. Ferro a good view of her ass and pussy. She wasn't sure what to do with her arms, so she left them crossed at her back. Her new memories convinced her that she had practiced this position many times, but it felt brand new to her all the same. And she'd certainly never done it with an audience in a public place.

Still... she knew what he wanted and knew how to give it to him, and that was the whole reason she'd made her rule in the notebook to begin with. To remove all doubt from her life.

...the notebook! She'd totally forgotten about it and cursed herself. In the confusion of having all of her knowledge of reality being gradually re-written to accommodate her rule, she'd forgotten all about the notebook. She couldn't really get up to find it just that moment, however, and silently prayed that her oversight wouldn't prove disastrous.

"Close, Honeycunt, but not quite. Stretch your arms out, on the floor. Arch your back a little more to really accentuate your lines. There you go. Now hold it so I can admire you."

Elana felt strangely at peace to be directed and corrected like that. Mr. Ferro seemed to be a reasonable man, considering the enormous power he held over her. Perhaps this could be a lot of fun.