“Ugh. No, slave. Not like that.” Elyse had rolled her eyes dramatically while blowing so hard a wisp of her hair fluttered around. “Kneel up straight, like I taught you. Don’t slouch.”
“Yes, Elyse. I’m sorry, Elyse.”
elyse’s sounded very meek and intimidated. He had barely squeaked out his answer.
“WHAT was that?”
“Yes, Elyse! I’m…I’m sorry, Elyse!”
“Better.”
As Elyse inspected her slave, I reaized she was much more touchy-feely than Lauren. She ran a finger down his bare chest, gripped his large bicep, then bent down and squeezed his ass cheek, lingering and looking him over as she held on to it. From the corner of my eye, I noticed elyse’s growing erect. His lip trembled. I noticed him squeeze his eyes shut then quickly open them, struggling to keep them open through the invasive inspection. I could relate.
“You need to shave closer, slave.” Elyse held her slave’s cheek in her hand, looking straight into his eyes. “I don’t want to have to tell you again.”
“Yes, Elyse! I’m sorry, Elyse!”
“OK slave. I like the look lauren’s has going. Why don’t you put on just your jeans. Nothing else. Not even underwear. Got it?”
“Yes, Elyse.”
Standing, this muscular guy stood and picked up his jeans. Pulling them on, he was extremely careful zipping them up. He was still shaking a bit. It seemed a little odd, watching this guy who would intimidate most people so scared of Elyse, a thin wisp of a young woman. I wondered if Lauren and I appeared the same way to others. I towered over her, after all.
Turning back to Lauren, Elyse was once again excited and bubbly, almost bouncy. It shocked me how she could switch so quickly between two attitudes: cute, expressive, and excited, or strict and serious, almost mean. I wondered what it would be like to be owned by someone like that. Lauren, after all, was even-keeled. She seemed her same stoic self whether she was happy or pissed off.
“Time to go, slave. Carry my bag down.”
“Yes, Lauren.”
Carry her bag down? So I guessed I wouldn’t be putting on any more clothes. I sure hoped no one was in the hallway, or on the sidewalk. Elyse informed her slave that her bag was already in Lauren’s car as she herded him out the door. Lauren locked up and we all made our way down the stairs and to the street, elyse’s and I in nothing but a pair of jeans. Someone down the street gave us a sort of funny look, but before I could think about it too much I was in the back seat closing the door.
I rode silently in the back seat on the passenger side, watching the scenery go by. It seemed strange being so skimpily dressed in the car. I hoped we didn’t get pulled over. My bare back stuck to the leather upholstery. I sighed, running my bare soles back and forth across the carpet.
Diagonaly in front of me, Lauren drove, talking to Elyse, in the passenger seat in front of me. elyse’s rode in the back seat next to me, behind Lauren. Elyse laughed and gestured while she and Lauren caught up with the week’s events. In the back seat, we slaves remained silent.
Finally, we arrived. I took a very big breath at the first sight of the house. I’d waited for this all week, and I was excited. I had to admit, though, I was nervous.
elyse’s and I unloaded our owners’ bags, setting them beside the front door. Then we walked together around the large house, down the hill in the back, to the little concrete pad outside the slave door. We weren’t alone. Three other slaves were already on the pad, either taking off their outside world clothes or putting on the garment. As we approached, I noticed that one of them was zoe’s.
“Hi!”
“Um, hi.”
“Have a good week?”
“Yeah, it was just weird. I kept wondering if this place was all a dream.”
“Too good to be true, isn’t it?”
He was so talkative. I noticed that the slaves who had been here for awhile were like that. They were all friends, and they talked to each other when the owners weren’t around. Us new slaves were much more quiet. Maybe this all seemed too new, and bizarre, and embarrassing for us. It had not yet become normal life for us new guys.
zoe’s, naked, bent over the garment box as I began undressing. I noticed something odd, that I hadn’t noticed last week, something between his ass cheeks. On his left buttock, way down deep near his asshole, he had a tattoo. It looked like some sort of script writing, running upward from bottom to top, as low as someone could possibly get a tattoo gun down there. And the script was that same weird light shade of purple, the same as the gable siding on the house, the same as the adirondack chairs on the lawn. I decided not to ask him about it.
Naked, I threw my clothes into the box on the left. In the other box, I found a garment that fit me, already tied. I thought it was the same one I wore the previous week, but there was absolutey no way to know for sure. I winced a little, wondering if some other guy’s dick had spent a weekend pushing up against the fabric that mine was touching now. But I couldn’t worry about it too much. I had work to do.
I walked with elyse’s and zoe’s up through the house to the front door. Retrieving Lauren’s carry-on size suitcase, I carried it up to her room, and set it on the little stand at the end of her bed. Walking downstairs, I searched for her among the busy throng of arriving women and slaves. I never found her. My search was interrupted as a woman I didn’t recognize grabbed my arm.
“lauren’s! You can help. Go with emma’s and makenna’s to help set up outside.”
Facing her, I bowed deeply.
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”
I followed the two slaves out the side door, wondering what we were setting up. They walked quickly.
“Hey, I’m lauren’s.”
“makenna’s.”
“emma’s.”
“So what are we setting up?”
“The tables and chairs and everything for tomorrow.”
OK then, I thought. We rounded the little garden on the west side of the house, and entered a large open lawn with freshly cut grass. In its center, an enormous white canopy had been mostly erected, with a group of slaves finishing tying down the final cords holding it taut. We made our way to a group of slaves off to the side.
“You’ll carry each table, and put it right where Avery tells you.”
It was Jamie, the woman Lauren had spoken with when we first arrived last week, giving orders to the group of slaves I’d joined. We were standing near a large group of round tables. These weren’t the sort of foldable tables you’d normally find at an outdoor gathering. Rather, they were wood dining room tables, and they were heavy. makenna’s helped me carry one to a place under the canopy, where the other woman, Avery, was arranging them, telling each pair of slaves where to put each table.
“Right there, makenna’s and lauren’s. Right over there, emma’s and bethany’s…”
We carried another table, then another and another. Finally, with the tables in place, another group of slaves began placing a tablecloth on each table. White, with a thin gold filigree, they were edged in that peculiar light purple.
The group I was with made our way to a storage shed, where we retrieved white wooden chairs. They didn’t fold. We had to carry them one at a time to the tables, placing six chairs at each round table. The other group of slaves began placing cloth runners, that same purple shade, over the back of each chair. In the center of the scene, a few slaves were constructing a small platform with steps. I didn’t get a good look at it before my group was sent in to work on dinner.