Lacie Ch. 02

"Provided that the leather she's strapped into isn't compressing her figure too much, for the most part yes, I'm not sure about bras though. Either Marie or Tatiana will have to loan her some pants and panties, and she should fit pretty well into Claire's shirts and blouses."

"Around the shoulders sure, but have you seen Lacie's tits? They're more than twice the size of mine. She'll have to borrow some of Lindsey's bras."

"Very classy Claire. Always so demure." Bridget teased.

"Yeah you know me. Always the subtle one. Almost got it. Maybe another ten straps or so."

"Then why she cannot be moving yet?" Tatiana's accented voice questioned.

"This suit is reinforced from the inside, Ana. There's metal ribbing that prevents movement sewn into the leather. That's why she can't move. We're gonna have to literally peel it off her. There, last one."

As Claire spoke, Lacie felt a sudden release of pressure over her entire body as the final buckles that trapped her inside the leather torture suit came loose. Weakly leaning back, Lacie felt a zipper slide down her spine as her skin was exposed to open air for the first time in hours.

"Help me here Linds, lift in one... two... three. Nice work baby."

Lacie felt the hood slide away as her entire upper body fell out of the leather cocoon. Her naked breasts jiggled slightly as the exhausted girl slumped backwards.

"Whoa, girl. I know I like my women to fall into my arms, but that might be rushing things a bit, don't you think?" Lacie heard Claire tease as she felt strong, feminine hands catch her before she hit the floor.

Lacie's eyes burned and ached in the bright light of the room. After having sat so long in pure blackness, Lacie was nearly blinded when she first opened her eyes. Moaning, Lacie felt blood begin to flow back to her stiff, aching limbs. Her fingers and toes tingled and burned, pins and needles lancing though her as feeling returned to her blood starved arms and legs. Lacie felt more gentle hands lift her out of her prison, carrying her to the side as blurs of light and shadow passed in front of her blurry, aching vision.

"Set her there. That table. Bridget, get me that light. Marie, hand me that pillow." Heather's voice ordered. "Tara, grab that towel, cover her eyes till she's had a chance to adjust to the light."

Lacie heard several people bustling around the room, following Heather's orders. Lacie was set down gently on a table, soft leather squeaking beneath her sweat soaked body as Lacie slowly began to move, stretching her aching body, trying to coax life back into herself. Someone wrapped a hand around her shoulders, their bare arm pulling her into a sitting position as people shuffled around her. A small hand took one of Lacie's and put something soft and fleecy into her palm. Realizing it was the towel that Heather had told Tara to get, Lacie lifted the fabric and covered her eyes, shutting out the glaring lights that made her eyes ache, even through tightly shut lids. Lacie felt something else settle around her shoulders, the soft fabric was warm, helping Lacie relax.

Covered in sweat from her leather prison, Lacie felt cold in the open air of the room she found herself in. Her nipples tightened and she began to shiver slightly, dropping the towel from her face to wrap the warm fabric around her shoulders tighter around her body. One shadow moved close, and Lacie heard Heather ask her to open her mouth. When Lacie complied, Heather stuck something thin, cold and hard into Lacie's mouth. The glass clinked against Lacie's perfect teeth, and the noise gave the secret of the device away. Lacie realized that it was a thermometer. Understanding that Heather was trained in medicine, Lacie relaxed and followed Heather's orders for the next several minutes while she made sure Lacie wasn't hurt or sick. Slowly, Lacie's eyes adjusted as she grew more accustomed to the light.

"Well?" Bridget asked "Is she okay?"

"Looks that way." Heather sighed. "That torture suit didn't do her any good, but I don't see anything wrong with her other than a small amount of light sensitivity. That's probably to be expected though. Do we know how long she was in that crate?"

"No. Could have been an hour, could have been a few days. What about giving her water?"

"She doesn't show any signs of dehydration, and she was sweating in that thing. Water is probably a good idea."

Another shadowy silhouette moved closer and took Lacie's hand. Lacie felt the cool glass slide against her skin as Bridget pressed it into her palm. Stepping away, she let Lacie's hand go once she was sure the girl could hold the glass on her own. Lacie's hand shook slightly as she pulled the icy water to her lips, making the glass clink softly before Lacie began taking sips, gulping down mouthful after mouthful of the soothing liquid.

Once Lacie finished, she held out her hand, and Bridget swiftly moved up again to take the glass. Lacie reached up and rubbed her eyes, soothing the itching, burning sensations. Blinking rapidly, Lacie's vision finally swam into focus, letting her see around the small room. For the most part, the concrete room was empty. A few metal frames, whose purpose was unknown to Lacie, were stacked against the far wall. A small wooden crate sat near the middle of the floor and a red hand-powered pallet jack was set against a nearby wall. A three foot tall metal frame holding a web of leather straps sat just in front of the crate, a brown leather bodysuit suspended from the straps and cables within the web. A metal door set into one wall opened into what was likely the rest of the house, and a large overhead door, not unlike the one Lacie's dad had in their garage, took up the wall to Lacie's left.

Looking down, Lacie saw that someone had wrapped a terrycloth robe around her shoulders. It was the only clothing she wore. Flushing with embarrassment, Lacie jumped to her feet, intending to wrap the robe more fully around herself and hide her body. Unfortunately, Lacie's legs had yet to recover from her ordeal in the bodysuit, and she nearly toppled. Heather's hands swept up and caught her moments before she fell. Knowing what Lacie was trying to do, Heather leaned Lacie against the leather topped table, before she stood in front of Lacie and pulled the robe closed, protecting Lacie's modesty.

Looking up, Lacie was finally able to get a good look at the other girls in the small room. Lacie's jaw dropped. Eight other women stood or sat in the open space. Every last one was absolutely gorgeous. Stunningly, amazingly, impossibly gorgeous. Their ages ranged from late teens to mid twenties, and more than one ethnicity was present.

"Careful, there Lacie. Your muscles may feel fine, but after sitting in one position for as long as you probably did, it'll take some time before they're actually capable of holding your weight. The blood has been still for a while, so it's lost a lot of oxygenation. Give it a few more minutes, honey." Heather said.

Glancing to her right, Lacie was finally able to get a good look at the other woman. Heather was tall, standing about five foot ten. Her bright green eyes seemed to smile at Lacie as Heather looked back at the stunned girl. Heather's wavy, bouncy, fiery red hair hung level with her large breasts, the coppery red strands highlighted with thin streaks of blonde. Heather's face was slightly wider than normal, disqualifying her from the look of a "classic" beauty. But, it was a face that Lacie instantly trusted. Despite not being more than four or five years older than Lacie herself, Heather reminded Lacie of her mother, caring, loving, trustworthy and gentle. Looking down, Lacie swept her eyes over the rest of Heather's body. Heather wore a black lace choker around her neck, a small ivory circle set just in the center of her throat. Looking around, Lacie noticed that all of the women wore chokers identical to Heather's. For some reason, Lacie thought that the odd jewelry seemed strangely familiar.

Dismissing the odd sensation, Lacie continued her evaluation of the woman in front of her. Heather's large breasts sat high on her chest, the massive globes nearly overflowing from her DD-bra and tight white blouse. Her waist was trim, but not quite flat and her hips swelled out, giving her a definitive hourglass figure. Her legs were tapered and smooth, at least what parts of them Lacie could see under Heather's navy blue, knee length skirt. She wore no socks, but Heather had on sandals, a pair of dressy one-inch heeled shoes. The thin navy blue leather straps wove a web around Heather's feet, before all the strands met in the center, just atop the middle of her foot where a small, featureless, mother of pearl disk sat atop the intricate strands.

"Like them? Tara designed them. They're my favorite pair." Heather said, twisting her feet and swishing her skirt so Lacie could get a better look at the sandals.

"They're beautiful. Elegant." Lacie said, her voice sounding much softer now, the water having soothed the dry scratchiness that had impaired her earlier. Heather beamed at the compliment.

"That's Tara right there. Tell her that. She loves when people gush over her work." Heather pointed into the middle of the group of women. A small girl stepped forward, standing no taller than five foot two and looking like she was just barely into her twenties. Tara raised one hand shyly and waved, her elbows seemingly glued to her waist. Lacie could see that Tara was at least part Asian. Tara's soft, flawless skin was a deep tan, the deep color reminding Lacie of her father's polished olivewood desk, one of his most prized possessions. Tara's straight black hair ended just inches above her shoulders. The soft glistening strands were cut at a slight downward angle, following the point of the Asian girl's chin. Tara's eyes betrayed some blood other than that of Asian descent, as they sparkled a deep, radiant blue. Tara wore a sleeveless blouse, the frilly neckline and off white color setting off the unusual, and gorgeous, combination of her skin and eyes. Tara's moderate B-cup bust barely tented the loose fabric, but a wide, deep purple sash was wound around Tara's hips and stomach, showing just how small the Asian girl's waist was. Tara also wore a skirt, but hers was angled slightly to one side, the hem of the bluish fabric tastefully embroidered with designs of gold. Tara, oddly enough, went barefoot, despite her obvious skill at making Heather's shoes.

A stunning blond woman stepped forward, "Hi, I'm Bridget. I'm kind of the den mother here. I was Master's first girl, and I'm his unofficial secretary slash assistant. I also help run the house for him." Lacie looked at Bridget, once again amazed at how beautiful all these woman were. Bridget was dressed simply, a blue collared button down shirt was tucked into a tailored pair of work slacks, the obvious shape of her legs leaving little doubt as to Bridget's physical condition. Her soft B-cup breasts tugged the shirt's fabric up and out, and the top two buttons were undone, leaving the eye to trace the small dip between her breasts, teasing observers with the barest hint of cleavage. Bridget's shoulder length blond hair naturally swept forward, partially obscuring her face, forcing the blonde to constantly tuck it behind her ear. Bridget's soft green eyes glittered as she smiled, her soft, pink lips tugging upwards as she spoke to Lacie.

"Let me introduce you to the rest of the squad." Bridget joked, "You met Heather already, she was Master's second girl. She's the house nurse as well as our fitness instructor. If you have health questions or concerns, you go to her. Tara is our house tailor, as well as being in charge of laundry. I don't think any of us has ever seen her as mad as she was when I accidentally ruined one of her hand tailored shirts by putting it in the wrong wash cycle." That comment brought giggles from the other girls and a deep blush from Tara. "Tara was brought here at the same time as Callie, so they are tied in... well I guess the best word is seniority." Bridget pointed to each girl in turn, stopping at Callie.

"Hi!" The girl waved at Lacie. Callie was sitting in a chair, so Lacie could only guess at her height, but she seemed to be about average in height, maybe slightly shorter than normal, but only by a little. The blond girl waved at her, a huge smile crossing her face as the obviously excited woman bounced in her chair. Callie appeared to be around twenty, maybe twenty one years old, and was dressed very differently from the other girls. Her skintight, knee length jean shorts were covered with painted on handprints, and multicolored splashes of paint. There seemed to be no real point or purpose to the colors, other than to simply add yet more variety to the denim, but that seemed fitting with Callie's obviously bubbly personality. Callie wore an old shirt with a cartoon pony prancing across the white, faded fabric, a prettily colored rainbow had half faded into the background behind the horse. Callie was very obviously not wearing a bra of any kind, as the chilly room made her hard nipples poke tents into the fabric covering her C-cup chest. Save for a few loose strands, Callie's blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail, gathered at the back of the plain grey ball cap that covered her head.

"Despite her odd personality and odder choices regarding clothes, or the distinct lack thereof," Bridget said, pointedly referring to Callie's lack of a bra, "Callie is Master's mechanic. Yeah. Weird, we know. She's also his sometime driver. She doesn't have to do that much these days though. Master doesn't like us going off the grounds. Next we have Marie. Marie was Master's next purchase, and she's our gardener. She takes care of our homegrown produce, our flowerbeds and sometimes the lawns. We try and help out where we can. It gets to be a big job in the summer."

Lacie looked over spotting Marie as the girl waved to her. "Nice to meet you." Marie said, striding forward. Marie grasped Lacie's hand and shook it gently before letting go. She stepped back and spun, wordlessly giving Lacie permission to get a good look at her. Marie was gorgeous, her long, bouncy brown hair swept almost to her full wide hips, the young looking twenty year old girl having pulled it into a ponytail as well. Her full lips and dark, tanned skin hinted at her Hispanic roots, the sinuous movements that accented her curvy shape and the impish twinkle in her eye made Lacie unsure if the Latina girl was subtly flirting with her or not.

Regardless, Marie's body was worth a second look. Slightly broader than the other girls, Marie was by no means heavy or fat. Her body was soft and curvy in the perfect places, leaving no doubt that she was proportioned perfectly. Her belly was flat and muscled, her legs strong and tanned, her wide, gracefully curving hips were covered by a skimpy pair of daisy dukes. Her D-cup breasts were held in place by a simple white cotton bra and a cut off flannel t-shirt that had been gathered and tied just under her breasts. As she had stood up, Marie had left behind a wide, floppy gardener's hat. Her feet were strapped into a pair of work sandals, obviously more for utility than beauty, they still accented the Hispanic girl's legs beautifully. Lacie caught aromatic hints of lilacs and oranges as Marie spun away, teasing her with the wonderful smells of a garden.

"Next we have Tatiana, our chef. We all call her Ana for short. Her accent takes a bit of getting used to, but she's getting better at using English syntax."

Lacie was interested in Ana, having heard the accented girl's voice. A small, thin girl towards the back of the room stepped forward, extending her hand towards Lacie.

"I are for happy meetings to you."

Lacie couldn't help but giggle with some of the other girls at the mangled expression, but the obvious honesty and true joy in Ana's eyes as she spoke made Lacie quickly stifle her laughter, lest Ana be offended. Unable to contain her smile, Lacie shook the girl's hand.

"And I are for happy meetings to you too." Lacie said, prompting another round of giggles. A bewildered look reached Ana's eyes as she glanced back at the chuckling women.

"Have I speaked that wrongly?" The short girl asked, a concerned look on her face. Bridget stepped forward and laid her hands on Ana's shoulders.

"It's 'I'm pleased to meet you' Ana. Not, well, not what you said."

"But, said Lacie same thing..."

"She was being nice, honey. It's ok, it made us all smile. You know we love when you do that."

Ana's eyes lit up again when she realized her mistake wasn't offensive, and that her intended message had gotten across. The girl looked to be no more than Lacie's age, possibly even younger. Lacie looked at Bridget in confusion.

"Noticed her age, did you? Russian law is different from American. Over there all girls are slaves once they hit age fifteen. Technically, Master didn't buy her till last month, when she turned eighteen. Till then she was... well, leased, I guess."

"Oh." Was all Lacie said, too absorbed in studying and thinking about Ana than much else. Ana was her age. That alone made hope swell in Lacie's chest. At least she might have someone to talk to. As a bonus, now she even knew that Ana was Russian, answering the awkward question before Lacie had to ask. Looking back at the skinny girl, Lacie dropped Ana's hand before studying the eighteen year old. Ana was short, only five foot two, maybe five foot three. Her clothing was plain, a white t-shirt and jeans, but she wore an apron that was still lightly dusted with powder. Having learned that Ana was the house's cook, Lacie imagined it was likely just flour.

Ana's small B-cup breasts swelled in her shirt, and her butt gently plumped her backside, but of all the girls in the room, Ana was the thinnest, most likely just from a lack of regular meals as a child. Her small curves fit her body well though, and Ana was far from spindly or bony, she was simply small. Ana actually reminded Lacie of a number of girls that Lacie had used to dream of being, the thin, graceful models in her mother's old fashion magazines. A rosy glow filled the russian girl's cheeks as her cute, perky nose crinkled in an adorable grin, her ice blue eyes twinkling at Lacie as Ana tossed her shoulder length blond hair. Another thing that set Ana apart was a small, electric blue extension braided into her hair, attached just behind Tatiana's bangs. It was the sort of thing one expected from punks and fan girls, and to see it on Ana lent the russian girl a hint of playfulness that mixed well with her sincere nature.

Bridget turned and pointed out the last two women in the room.

"And over here we have the terrible two, Master's most recent purchases, yourself excluded, obviously. The one with short hair is Claire, and the shy one with long hair is Lindsey. Claire takes care of the animals on Master's estate, and Linds is our 'public face'. Master takes her out when he needs to be social, and Lindsey is best suited for the kinds of things people expect of slaves and Masters when out in public."

The last two girls sat side by side on a small slate grey countertop that Lacie hadn't noticed before. They were obviously an item, as both girls had one arm wrapped around the other and their other hands were laced together between their laps. Lindsey's face was hidden by her hair as she leaned into Claire's shoulder.

Claire's appearance came as a mixed bag of surprises. Most of the other girls fit into either classic or exotic beauties, whereas Claire was definitely an "alternative" beauty. Despite the radical difference between her and the other girls, or perhaps because of it, Lacie couldn't be sure, in some ways Claire was even more stunning than the rest. Claire's hair on the right side of her head was buzzed close to her scalp, only half an inch or so of hair remaining. The hair on the top, back and other side of her head swept down to the left side of her face like a stylized bird's wing, the angled onyx strands looking soft and glossy, stopping once the 'wing' drew level with her chin. Her deep hazel eyes glittered as she watched Lacie appraise her, almost playfully challenging the new girl.