As quiet as she could she walked to the locked cell and pulled out the key. She looked at it a moment, before she felt that familiar shiver of pleasure. It almost felt like she was being beckoned.
"You return, with cracks in your collar. You mouth waters and your loins burn. Come in Sister, and let me show you a path," the feminine voice within whispered through the door.
"A path?" Makae asked with a frown.
"Of course. One of many. It is choice that truly defines us, not subjugation, not enslavement. That is the way of Jehovah... and of his first daughter. The clay born woman."
Makae slid the key into the lock and twisted it. She heard the click of tumblers within and grasped the latch. Once more she paused, a frown on her face.
"There is no turning back from this, is there?" she aske
