The Lilac Society Ch. 05

That week, I tried.

In each and every class, I tried to pay attention. At night doing homework, I tried to keep my mind on the material. Speaking with friends, I tried to listen to what had been going on in their lives over the summer. I honestly gave my best effort, but it didn't matter. Mentally, I wasn't on campus at all. I'd checked out. I was at the house.

I kept interrogating myself, demanding to know if it had really happened, or if it had all been a dream. The very existence of such a place, of such a culture, it seemed impossible. It was entirely too good to be true. It was such a beautiful vision, and every time I closed my eyes I was right back there, serving, obeying, submitting. I wanted nothing more than to be at the house, serving Lauren. I would rather be a slave in that place, I realized, than a free man anywhere else.

I was thankful I had a single dorm room. I needed my space to process this new reality, to come to terms with it, to pace and think out loud and let it sink in. I also needed to practice. Over and over, I descended to my knees, then stood, beautifully and gracefully. I couldn't do this in front of a roommate; privacy was essential. The irony did not escape me, however, that at the house nothing was private. It hit me hard when I thought about it. Over the summer, I'd fantasized about serving Lauren semi-publicly, maybe in front of a few other people. It seemed delightfully humiliating. Now, literally hundreds of people had seen me naked, both women and other slaves. They'd watched me submit to Lauren and obey her, and if I thought about it in too much detail I ended up squeezing my eyes shut tight with a rictus grin, painful after-the-fact humiliation gripping me. I remembered Lauren's words to me from the start of it all. There's no privacy for a slave. Absolutely none.

Campus itself wasn't a respite from the feeling of humiliation. I crossed paths with zoe's several times on my way to class. We just sort of nodded to each other quickly. What else are you supposed to do? alexa's, it turned out, was in my Physics class. That was a little awkward. I'd also see other guys on campus that I thought were slaves, but wasn't quite sure. It was a little hard to tell. Jeans and a pullover with tennis shoes presents a completely different look than "the garment."

I noticed some of the women, too, women whose names I did not know, except of course for Lauren. Any time I encountered Lauren on campus I stopped and spoke to her meekly, deferentially, even in front of her friends who smiled at me and I knew, just knew, that Lauren had shared with them the details of our lives. As much as I'd longed to be back in Lauren's presence, in certain situations it was stressful.

The only place I found peace was in Lauren's apartment. Every day after classes, I went straight to Lauren's place to serve her for a few hours. The protocol became routine. Shoes and socks off before entering. Strip naked and kneel, waiting for Lauren. Submit to inspection. Dress only in a pair of tight jeans kept at Lauren's, my garment while inside her apartment, and try not to let the zipper rub against my naked dick inside. Obey her, submit to her, serve her. Make supper, do the dishes, clean the kitchen, clean the bathroom, collect Lauren's laundry. Studying at the laundromat became routine.

At night I tried to get used to sleeping with my hands outside the covers once again. I bit the pillow in frustration, my entire existence as a slave since I'd returned a never-ending turn-on, burning with desire despite knowing too well the consequences of failure. I didn't sleep well. I fantasized of course, primarily about having Lauren's beautiful feet again in my hands, massaging each one deeply, on my knees, pleasing Lauren. Pleasing Lauren was what I lived for.

Thursday afternoon, after dinner cleanup, after scrubbing Lauren's toilet, after sweeping, just before it was time to go, Lauren sent me into a fevered excitement.

"Make sure you get over here as soon as you get out of class tomorrow, slave. We'll be leaving right away.

"Yes, Lauren."

Inside, I was soaring. I didn't sleep. I couldn't wait. Concentrating in class was impossible. Finally, my last mid-afternoon class ended, and I was walking directly to my owner's apartment, ready for the weekend.

Shoes and socks pulled off, I opened the door and walked in. I stripped off all my clothes, folded them, and placed them in the bottom droor of the little stand by the door. Naked, I walked to the center of the living room and knelt, waiting for my owner.

I could hear her in her room. I knelt and waited. I was excited. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes. When I opened them, I was no longer alone. Elyse was standing in front of me, staring down at me with her big smile.

"Well hello, lauren's!"

I was a bit stunned. Elyse must have been somewhere in here when I entered. She looked good as ever, cute and friendly, and I felt a quick wave of shame that started to fade just a little. What should I do? I was supposed to bow, but I was kneeling. Did the house rules apply here too? I decided to improvise. I stood quickly, for just a second, then bowed low toward Elyse, holding my position.

"Thank you, ma'am."

Holding my bow for a few more seconds, I took a deep breath. I stood up straight, then as gracefully as I could I returned to my kneeling position. Elyse wandered around the room, looking closely at everything.

A minute later, Lauren emerged from her bedroom, looking serious. She approached me, looked straight down at my naked body, then walked around me, taking me in. Finally she stopped in front of me. Lauren wore tight jeans and a pale pink t-shirt with plain white tennis shoes. She smiled, just a little trace of a smile, then spoke.

"You're good, slave. Put them on."

"Yes, Lauren."

I stood gracefully, and walked to the little stand by the door. I bent down to pick up the pair of jeans, folded neatly on the floor beneath it. Elyse watched me closely as I pulled them onto my naked body, ever so carefully zipping them up.

"There are a few dishes left in the kitchen, slave."

"Yes, Lauren. I will wash them, Lauren."

Working helped. It was good to have something to do, to take my mind off my present reality, how excited and scared I was. I finished washing, put the dishes away, then knelt again on the floor.

Almost as soon as my knees hit the hardwood, the doorbell rang. Oh shit, I thought. Who is this? I became even more surprised when Elyse, rather than Lauren, went to answer.

"Good. You're here. Shoes and socks off? You can go take your place next to lauren's."

A few seconds later, elyse's was kneeling right beside me, almost touching me. God, he was a strong dude. Elyse stood in front of him, looking him over with a cute little smirk.

"Bare yourself." Elyse sounded suddenly strict.

"Yes, Elyse." This guy sounded very, very meek. He stood and stripped, just letting his clothes fall behind him. Elyse stared at him, hard and unrelenting. elyse's was shaking just a little as he knelt again.

"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.

In the kitchen, I fried rice. At the announcement, I carried a plate of chicken, rice, asparagus, and salad out to Lauren, kneeling before her and offering it to her. Later, I retrieved her plate. While others worked on desserts, I cleaned dinner plates. alexa's instructed me on the process.

"Use this large metal bowl for the chicken, and this one for the rice. Scrape whatever's left on their plates into the bowls."

"We save what they didn't eat? What they've already eaten from?"

"Where do you think our dinner comes from?"

"So we don't make extra for us slaves?"

"Not allowed. We only eat what they leave on their plates."

"Ummm...OK."

So I scraped bits of mostly-eaten chicken breasts, and little bits of rice into the bowls. Later, after dessert, after clean-up, I knelt with the others holding a small paper plate with bits of chicken and some clumpy rice, trying to eat it all by hand, wondering whose used fork had touched it, reminding myself who I was, what I was, reminding myself to submit.

After dinner, in Lauren's room, I knelt at the end of her bed. Lauren rested her bare feet on her suitcase, her legs hanging over the bed.

"You may massage my left foot, slave."

"Thank you, Lauren!"

I took Lauren's foot in my hands and began to massage, this time without any lotion. I took a very deep breath. This was heaven.

"Tomorrow's a big day, slave. A big day for both of us. Are you excited?"

"Yes, Lauren."

"Good. You've been such a good boy, slave. I want you to know that I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, Lauren!"

"It's close enough to slave bedtime. Time for you to go to the cell."

"Yes, Lauren."

Once again, the feeling of my naked flesh against the sticky mat accompanied me to sleep. I slept between zoe's and lyla's, dreaming of Lauren. At some point, strangely, I dreamt of Elyse. I was completely out, so exhausted that I didn't wake until the buzzer shocked me back to awareness.

Once again, I endured the awkward formation of the line, waiting for the cold showers, as a couple women performed semen check. I slowly made my way down the length of the cell and up the stairs. The same woman stood at the top, directing slaves into the shower. When I reached her, however, I was in for a surprise.

"No shower yet, lauren's. Stand off to the side, with the others. And don't bow and answer. No speaking today."

Two other slaves were standing in a little opening across the hall. Confused, I walked over to join them. Waiting with the other two slaves, I wondered what was happening. From the looks on their faces, they didn't seem to know. Eventually, others joined us. elyse's was ushered into the group, as were emma's and makenna's. Several others that I didn't know joined as well. Eventually, twelve of us stood awkwardly, waiting for instructions.

Looking around at the others, it appeared we were the new slaves. We stood anxiously, trying to be still. Several minutes after the last showers were finished, we were approached by a very pretty woman who appeared to be in her thirties.

"Time for your showers. Take your time today. You all need to be squeaky clean and presentable."

We filed into the shower room. Today, the showers weren't exactly hot, but they weren't freezing cold. They were sort of warm, at least for us. We were watched over by several women, but they didn't rush us along. We took our time showering, brushing our teeth, and shaving. Each of us had a clean, dry towel to use. At the end of the room, the same woman was waiting for us.

"Follow me."

We all obeyed, following in a tight naked bunch behind her, down corridors and around corners, until we were outside, all standing in front of a large brick wall beside the house. We faced a large grouping of wheel barrows, each filled with vines, twigs, or flowers. The woman turned and addressed us.

"Today is an important day for each of you. Today, you will not speak. You will listen closely to everything that you're told, and you will obey."

As soon as she finished speaking, the woman turned and walked away. None of us spoke, of course, but we looked at each other and wondered. Then we waited, and we waited some more.

After an hour or so, a group of slaves walked out to us, carrying paper bowls and cups. We were each given a bowl with some hashbrowns and fruit, remains of breakfast, and a cup of water.

"Don't speak. Just eat."

We did so, all of us, as the other slaves waited, then took our trash, again leaving us alone.

Time crept by, slowly. At least another hour went by. Finally, from around the corner, a group of the owners appeared. Lauren was among them. I sighed at the sight of her. Elyse was in the group too, as were several others. Lauren approached me. She smiled.

"Kneel, slave."

I did so, knees in the grass, wondering what was going to happen. Rather than tell me, Lauren walked to one of the wheel barrows. Other owners were doing so as well. Each owner, and the other women present, searched through the vines, twigs, and flowers as if they were shopping for just the right ones.

"How about this?"

"That might work. Or wait - look over here!"

Talking and laughing, they joked with each other as they gathered their materials. These women were all beautiful, and hearing them carrying on adorably with each other led me to forget, just for a moment, how intimidating each of them could be as a slave owner.