weird. It didn’t hurt, but it was uncomfortable. It was sort of scratchy.
Eventually a small group of slaves arrived with food. I was handed a partially eaten chicken salad sandwich and another cup of tepid water. I ate and drank quickly.
We waited longer this time, at least until mid-afternoon. I had to pee. I hoped Lauren and the others would just show up already.
Eventually, another woman came by, this one a pretty redhead I hadn’t yet seen. She stood before us.
“If any of you need to use the restroom, stand up.”
Nearly all of us stood.
“Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “With me…”
We followed this woman to the outhouse, where we stood in a line and waited our turn as she watched us. Peeing had never felt so good. When we had all finished, she led us back to the place where we’d been waiting. By the time we arrived, our owners were waiting for us.
“OK let’s get you finished.”
Lauren worked, sometimes alone, sometimes with Katie’s help. Over the course of the late afternoon, the cord extending from my collar grew. Lauren wove together vines, branches, twigs, and flowers to create a sort of leash. The thing was a marvel.
Closer to my body, the natural materials were thicker and rougher. Farther from it, Lauren used softer and thinner materials. The loop around my neck was brown; the cord transitioned from brown to green as it led away from me. Small flowers were woven into the cord near my neck. Farther away, the flowers became bigger, and prettier.
By the time the leash was long enough to almost reach the ground, Lauren finished it off with a loop of soft stems and flowers. The other slaves had a similar collar and leash, each one made entirely of natural materials. It was as if nature itself had risen up to enslave us. The collar still felt irritating, but looking down at the cord, and at the other slaves’ contraptions, I was struck by a sense of beauty. This was all so beautiful.
Standing in front of me, Lauren took my face fully in her hands. I noticed myself becoming erect. Oh god, I loved this. Absolutely loved it. Any attention from Lauren was heaven, but her hands on my face sent me into a sort of trance. She smiled wide, genuinely delighted.
“Chris. I’m so excited, Chris.”
She was sweaty from working in the sun, and her white t-shirt, somehow, was smudged with dirt. Still, Lauren looked incredible.
“Tonight will be wonderful. You’ve been such a good boy through this. You’re a good slave, and I’m so glad you belong to me.”
I smiled, just a little. Lauren let go with one hand, and with the other, held my chin firmly.
“It won’t be long now, slave.”
Letting go, Lauren joined the others in walking away. I was buzzing with excitement. I had no idea what was going on, but I knew I was in Lauren’s hands, under her control. It was enough for me.
We waited. Then we waited longer. Maybe an hour after we’d been left, a different woman came to again lead us to the outhouse, then lead us back. Then we waited longer.
Eventually, after a long wait, dusk approaching, we heard someone coming. Over the hill appeared four women. These women looked determined. Each wore a cream colored dress. For some reason, each wore a thick pair of black boots, something like Doc Marten’s. With the dresses it was an odd look. As they approached, I could see that each woman had a thick belt around her waist, colored that light purple color I kept seeing. And on the left side, attached to each belt, was a scabbard holding a sword.
Four sword-bearing women, walking quickly toward us, made for a fearsome sight. They took up positions, one on each end of the line of kneeling slaves, one in front of us, one behind us. They stood, watching us, guarding us.
Several minutes later, our owners approached in a group, talking animatedly. Among them, I spotted Lauren. She looked stunning. Wearing a very pretty white dress that extended just past her knees, flat dress shoes, and a simple bracelet, Lauren left me breathless. She’d never looked so good. She wore just a little bit of makeup. It wasn’t much, but was far more than she usually wore. And her hair was pulled up and back in a pretty arrangement behind her head, with just a few tendrils of blonde locks hanging down beside her face.
I trembled as she approached. Lauren smiled, her typical slight smirk. Squatting down, she picked up the loop at the end of my floral leash, holding it possessively.
“Hello, slave.”
I wished I could answer, but I wasn’t allowed to speak, not today.
“This is a night you’ll remember forever. Ready?”
I took a deep breath.
“Stand.”
Resisting the urge to answer Lauren, I simply obeyed. Other slaves were standing for their owners. The sword-wielding guards watched us all expressionless as each of us was ogled possessively by our owner.
“Let’s go!”
One of the guards had actually spoken. We all fell into line. Two guards led the way in the front, and two followed behind, as we all walked single file. Lauren walked just ahead of me, holding the loop at the end of my leash, leading me. Briefly, I remembered that first day, just after meeting Lauren, following closely behind her as she walked quickly, expecting me to stay close and shut up. I felt the rough texture of the vines around my neck, and bit my lip. Following Lauren was what I did naturally, and it had led me right here.
We walked around the front of the house. There were far more cars parked there than I had ever seen here. They lined the drive, far down the hill. People were here. A LOT of people were here.
Rounding the corner of the house, the most beautiful sight came into view. The large tent that was being set up the previous night was now complete. Little white lights were strung below it and in the surrounding trees, illuminating the scene against the glowing sunset in the background. Tables and chairs now filled the entire area, both under the tent and beyond it, tables and chairs filled with beautiful women dressed elegantly, sipping on drinks. Somewhere, a band played soft jazz. Along one end of the tent, the other slaves – ALL the other slaves – stood at attention in their garments. At the sight of our procession, the band stopped playing, and everyone stood, turned toward us, and cheered.
As we approached the tables, the guards stood aside, and each owner paraded through the throng, showing off her slave. Lauren weaved through the tables, both outside the tent and under it, holding my leash. As we passed through, standing,clapping women smiled warmly at Lauren, then looked me over head to toe. I knew I was blushing. I felt sort of light headed. Lauren was enjoying every second of this, and I was thankful just to be a part of it.
Each of the new owners found her seat, including Lauren. Her chair was already pulled out, and she sat, beside the table rather than facing it.
“Kneel, slave. Kneel at my feet.”
I obeyed wordlessly.
“Take off my shoes and set them under the table.”
Again, I obeyed without speaking. As I did so, the other slaves were beginning to serve the owners their meals, men wearing only the garment sliding in unobtrusively to set their plates before them. I slipped Lauren’s white dress shoes off, watching Lauren settle her bare feet into the grass. She responded to compliments from the other women at the table while bending down, and slipping the loop at the end of my leash over her right foot and around her ankle.