In fact, it was easy to imagine Judy her in her younger guise, lithe and laughing, eager for play or sex, delightfully fun to touch. Helpful and cheerful. She must have been so damn cute up on the block, with her big, firm breasts and her wide smile.
But Khim? Tall, impressive Khim?
“What, you think only little frail girls like you get to be slaves?” Khim had laughed, seeing that slight look of doubt in Robin’s eyes. “Big girls can be very popular, you know.” Robin must have looked shocked that Khim could read her that easily, because Khim shrugged. “It takes lots of folks to make it all work, you know. Besides, I can’t be insulted if after all these years people don’t spot me as a slave. I’m not one anymore. Haven’t been since before I left my last contract.” She sighed. “I hope that never happens to you, Robin. I hope you’re always content to be owned while you are owned. Because it sure sucks to be waiting out your time, knowing that it just doesn’t feel right anymore.”
“I think it’s worse to be out and thinking you made a big mistake,” Judy said. By that time, they were all seated in the master bedroom, Judy in a big chair, coiling the used ropes, Robin on the floor and Khim sprawled comfortably on the bed in her bathrobe. “At least when you got tired of it, you knew it was only a matter of time before you got your walking papers and a check and you could say adios. For me, I spent way too much time thinking I’d made the biggest mistake of my life and wondering what the hell to do with myself.”
“But―why did you leave?” Robin asked cautiously. She had been given permission to act under a very lenient verbal protocol for their discussion.
Judy shrugged. “Wasn’t my choice. Circumstances, that’s all. When my last contract didn’t get renewed, I thought about going back to the block and I just couldn’t take it anymore. I thought maybe it was time to try the real world again. But I missed it so much, I signed up for the first Reunion I heard about!” She laughed and tossed one of her coiled ropes to Robin and then a tangled mess after it. “See if you can make it like that, OK?”
Robin obediently picked up the tangled rope and started to unravel the knots in it. “I’ve never gone to a Reunion,” she said, referring to the private vacations for slaves that the Marketplace arranged and partially subsidized. “Are they nice?”
“Nice if you’re looking to hook up,” laughed Khim. “We met at one!”
“But―forgive me, but I thought you didn’t miss the Marketplace,” Robin said. “Why did you go to a Reunion?”
Khim sighed. “You know, it’s one thing to not miss being a slave. But I missed being around Marketplace people! There was no one to tell my stories to. No one I could bitch with. Sometimes, I’d go to the parties, you know, the soft world things, and I’d just feel... weird! Like I was from another planet or something. I’d be having a good time, playing or talking or whatever―and then suddenly I’d think, ‘What do these people have in common with me?’―and I’d go home. Not much fun.”
Robin nodded. “I used to feel like that even before I got into the Marketplace. Meeting you two was different. Oh, I am so stupid for not realizing why!”
“Well, don’t be,” Judy said with a grin. “Not everyone notices, you know. If I could only bring myself to talk like everyone else....”
“But I felt you were different before,” Robin insisted. She explained why to the two women, who looked thoughtful and then pleased with what she had to say. Then, Judy shook her head anyway.
“Well, thanks,” she said. “But when I said not everyone notices, I meant someone a little closer to home, too. Monica doesn’t know, and we’d prefer to keep it that way, as long as keeping the secret doesn’t make you disobey a direct order.”
Robin gasped, but covered it up quickly as Khim yawned and stretched. “Wow, what an afternoon. I think I’m going to take a little walk and stretch out. Judy, would you introduce our temp slave to the kitchen and see if she wants to show off the cooking Monica always brags about?”
“As you wish,” Judy said with a wink, and Robin had to get up and move right away. But that didn’t stop her from thinking all the way downstairs.
* * * *
“If Monica didn’t tell you I was Marketplace, how did you know?” she finally asked Judy, after she had slipped the foil-wrapped fish into the oven. Judy was showing her where the china and silver were kept.
“Oh, I guess the same way you spotted us,” Judy said, pulling out a pair of candlesticks. “Here, put these out; it’s an occasion. But don’t put them out every night, OK?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Robin said. She settled two tapers into place and continued to set the table. She had been given only two settings, and she felt that usual sense of shame and pleasure when she realized that she would be eating in the kitchen or on the floor.
“I mean, when I saw Monica bring you in that first night, my first thought was something like, who did she borrow you from? Monica’s got great taste, but she never showed up with someone who―I don’t know―who really knew how to act, I guess. Mo is not the pickiest of people when it comes to playmates, even bottoms. So when she showed up with you, I thought either you were slumming, or she had finally lucked out and gotten someone who could be worth something.”
At first, Robin didn’t know what to say. It seemed slightly disrespectful―but no matter how she examined it, what Judy said was a little harsh, but true. Monica didn’t demand that her bottoms show signs of high-level protocol, and she really wasn’t interested in training. She did know how to treat a Marketplace slave, and thank goodness. But there was apparently no desire in her to repeat that sort of behavior with someone of the soft world.
Which, Robin reflected, only makes sense! Why apply one standard to people who shouldn’t be held to it, and why ruin a Marketplace relationship by not observing the boundaries there?
“But when Khim said there was something about you, too, that’s when I knew. Khim doesn’t―well―look for the same things I do. So when we compared notes, we decided that you were either a former slave or a current one. Either way, we had to touch base and say hi! Not too many of us around here, you know. There’s a couple of guys over in D. C., and we keep in touch with some of the people we knew when we were in service. But not too many do, you know.” She sighed. “I guess it’s like anything else―you leave behind a whole lifestyle, for better or worse, and you want to get on with other things. But thank God for Reunions, or I’d go crazy. You should go to one; they’re fun.”
Robin smiled but didn’t comment. She had been notified of the potential to go to these slave-only gatherings, but it seemed pointless to her. Her small amount of free time during her contracts was the only thing that didn’t belong to the Marketplace. Why not spend it lying on a beach, or skiing, or something totally different? But there was no need to mention a disagreement with Judy.
Robin served the dinner the way Chris and Raul had both drilled her, dressed in the simple black dress she had brought with her. Judy and Khim did not seem interested in keeping her naked all the time, which was a relief. She did in fact eat her dinner in the kitchen, perched on a stool by the counter while listening for the sounds of crystal clinking and silver rattling, and judging when it was time to go out and remove the plates and refresh drinks. To her pleasure, Khim and Judy discussed their household business, gossiped, and talked to each other, and only complimented her on the food, and not on her service.
This is going to be easy, she thought with delight. What a nice way to keep busy when Monica is away! And a fine way to make sure her service skills hadn’t been forgotten in Monica’s slightly free-and-easy lifestyle.
She felt a slight twinge at the thought of having to keep their past from her owner―and curiosity about why she should. But it was very doubtful that Monica would ask a direct question that would force the information out, and there was certainly no harm in not mentioning it. Robin cleaned up that night and happily went to sleep in the guest room by herself, setting her travel alarm for bright and early the nex
t day so she could start on the housekeeping. Judy and Khim might very well be former slaves, but they sure didn’t bring with them a sense of the anal-retentive call for order that was hammered into Robin during her training.
But she didn’t even mind that. It was always nice to be needed. Especially by people who knew the effort it took to serve!
* * * *
Days passed so quickly and easily that Robin could barely believe it. Judy and Khim were perfect owners for a pair of former slaves―they stayed out of her way when she was working, took control of her for their own purposes cleanly and without apologies, and played with her somehow almost every day, even if only for a few minutes before they turned to each other, stumbled into bed, and waved her from the room with laughs.
She tried very hard not to disappoint, and they were more than pleased at the amount of trash she managed to remove from the house, and the gradual shine that came up on shelves, table tops, and fixtures. She aired out their bed every morning and dusted everything she could find, and soon clutter gave way to order. She even found their neglected pile of mending, and the things she couldn’t do herself she quietly snuck out to a local dry cleaner, leaving the receipt with the other bills to be paid.
As the weekend rolled around and the women had time at home, they prepared to make more erotic use of her in elaborate ways again, like the day she was welcomed. This time, it was Khim who summoned her downstairs, and when she got there, she was surprised to see Judy, her hands tied behind her back, blindfolded, kneeling in the open space by the table. She was naked except for a soft leather strap much like the one around Robin’s throat, and Robin felt a sort of ghostly thrill at seeing it. There didn’t seem to be two free women and a slave in the room any more, but two slaves, older and younger, sisters in some mystical otherworld. Judy’s breathing was slow and deep, lifting her breasts softly. She was not the sprite Robin had imagined any more, her body softened in age, but her skin was tender and white, her posture beautiful. She displayed neither impatience nor boredom, only an alert sort of expectation, her head slightly cocked to catch stray sounds.
Robin could only wish that she looked as charming when she was in a similar position.
Khim was in one of her beautiful corsets again, this time a scarlet one that made her figure goddess-like in its strength and beauty. But instead of a skirt or panties, there was a harness around her hips, and between her thighs was a formidable dildo, with black and red swirls in the stylish silicone.
Robin thought that if there was ever truly a divine androgyne, s/he would look like that.
Khim laid a finger across her lips and Robin didn’t make a sound. At a hand gesture, though, she stripped, quietly, and put her clothing aside. She began to feel nervous as Khim reached over to a rack and pulled something down―it was another harness. Instead of being stiff, shiny red leather like Khim’s, it was an old, soft canvas. The dildo it came with was less ornate as well, but still respectable in size. Robin glanced up, and Khim nodded, and for the first time, Robin slipped the straps of a dildo harness around her body and settled it between her legs.
It felt awkward at first. The cock hung between her thighs and felt like it would surely slide off in a moment. Khim reached around her and tugged and pushed, and positioned the harness better. Before she tightened the straps, she took a scrap of soft cloth, folded it over several times and put it over Robin’s clitoral area, and then pulled the straps of the harness tighter. Robin felt the compression around her already swollen and slightly tender clit, but it wasn’t sharp, and the cloth would hopefully be a sort of buffer for any pounding movements.
But I never did this, she fretted, as she gazed down at her new toy. I know, it seems weird that it’s one thing I haven’t done in a fairly perverted life―but no one ever wanted me to!
She remembered Chris talking to her one day about being asked to top. “It’s unlikely that you will be,” he had said, while she knelt at his feet, taking her eternal mental notes. “You are young and inexperienced. You will probably not be called upon to manage a staff, and owners who like to be topped generally look for slaves who are specifically trained to do so. But you never know if you will be acquired by an owner who wants to create a top from nothing―or that your owner’s tastes might change, or that they may want you to work with them on another slave, upon a guest, or on some free lover of theirs. When that time comes, you must pay as much attention to those tasks as anything else, and above all, strive to please. Never show the slightest discomfort at being asked to do any form of topping. It might make your owner embarrassed, and that is unacceptable. That look in your eyes right now is wrong―you think you will never be able to top, even if commanded. Don’t even try to contradict me, I can see it. Rid yourself of both the look and this stubborn belief that you will be able to choose what your new owner wishes of you. If you do not know how to physically do something, and attempting it might be dangerous, then of course you must say so. But otherwise, you must deliver your obedience and your service with the proper attitude and be grateful for the chance to give pleasure when it is done.”
Sure, it was easy for him to say! He liked being on top; he had been a frightening sadist for all of his cool distance. She couldn’t imagine him staring at a sex toy in confusion and wondering what to do with it.
For one second, she remembered a wonderful evening with one of her former masters and one of her fellow slaves, when she had been fucked by the slave who was being fucked by the master. If only that was what Khim had in mind!
But Khim was holding something else out to her―a short, fat whip, the strands almost velvety in her fingers. If she had any hope of backing out of this for fear of being dangerous because of her lack of experience, this toy killed that possibility. The only way she could hurt someone with it was to force it down their throat.
“Time to party, sweetheart,” Khim suddenly said, and Robin jerked. So did Judy, whose head shot up. She had been perfectly silent in her patience, and Robin absurdly felt proud for her. How many years had she been out of the collar, and yet she fell into the old behaviors so easily and beautifully!
Khim reached down and took hold of one of Judy’s upper arms, and nodded to Robin to do the same. Together, they hauled her to her feet, and Khim pressed her against the table. Robin couldn’t help but notice that Judy had flinched when Robin touched her―maybe Judy didn’t even know that Robin had been called down!
“You need this,” Khim was whispering into Judy’s ear. “So I don’t want to hear any complaints....”
She stepped back and with one easy backward swing, brought her own whip down on Judy’s ass. Judy bent forward at the waist, her body braced against the table, her wrists still tightly joined behind her. Robin’s arms ached in sympathy―she didn’t much like being bent over like that without her arms to brace her. But as Khim mimed, she drew her own arm back and with the middle of the tress bundle, hit Judy’s ass directly across the center. The impact thudded back up her arm, and Robin gasped as Khim laughed. Judy gasped too, and then giggled, kicking one foot slightly back.
“That’s right,” Khim said, delivering another hard smack to her lover. “You’re going to get ’em twice as fast tonight.”
Robin hit again, this time aiming a little lower, and found that she hit the sweet spot right under the curve of Judy’s sweet heart shaped ass. Judy moaned and hissed “Yess!” and Khim laughed again.
“Oh I think we should hear a lot of that tonight,” she said, smacking again. “I like that. Don’t hold back. Show our little guest what a good slave you were. What a good slave you still are.”
Robin fell into the rhythm easily, and gradually lost the fear of missing her target. The whip was heavy enough to weary her after a while, but the tresses delivered their soft thumps with no complaints at all from their target, and if Judy’s moans were any indication, she wasn’t doing a bad job at all. In fact, it had a lot in common with giving a massage―she moved, and Judy responded, the flesh warmed, an
d so did the room. Khim was magnificent to watch, her eyes flashing like green amber in the playroom light, her arm unerringly accurate. From time to time, she aimed at Judy’s legs or her back, but kept Robin hitting Judy’s ass over and over again, until it first turned pink, and then red, and then was actually hot to the touch.
By then, Judy’s moans and yesses had faded to a constant stream of sighs and minor whimpers. Robin understood that state very well! Monica could take her there when she got fancy, taking out her deerskin whips and lined cuffs and really working her over. How nice to know she could help do this for someone else! Why―it didn’t feel like topping at all, just another form of service.
Oh, Chris, you were right again, she thought. I wish you could see me now, whipping the hell out of this woman’s butt! She grinned suddenly and realized, to her surprise, that her nipples were hard and she was kind of damp where the straps held that cock between her legs.
Khim sighed and raised a hand, and Robin stopped. Khim ran fingers down Judy’s ass. Judy moaned and shivered and rose up on her toes. “Oh isn’t that nice?” Khim asked, scratching her nails across the tender skin. “And in half the usual time. We might have to get help in more often. I think you’ll really like act two.”
Khim pointed to the side and Robin hung both whips up on the rack and looked at the top of the cabinet. There were two condoms and a tube of lubricant. She swallowed hard and picked them up.
Khim had Robin cover her dick―and didn’t insist that she do it with her mouth, something that Robin certainly had done, on real cocks and fake ones, but not much lately. She coated Khim’s red and black cock with lube, too, and realized why when Khim didn’t slide it up into Judy’s lightly fuzzy pussy, but into her tight little asshole instead. Robin gulped and felt another surge of moisture between her legs. It had been far too long since she had been fucked in the ass! It was not one of Monica’s favorite activities. But it was apparently one of Judy’s, because she hissed and groaned, and arched herself backward to take that cock easily.
The Slave Page 39