A Slave and Her Boy Pt. 02

"Of course." I had a hard time saying no, and besides, all her ideas had been good ones so far.

"Let me make you comfortable. Can I give you a massage?" She began to knead my knuckles and fingers, pulling and rubbing the muscles. It felt quite good.

"...Yes. That sounds amazing. I can't say no to that." I lay back on my pillow. Margaret clicked my bedroom light off and went to work. She worked over my muscles, relaxing and relieving my tension. Body massage must have been part of her training.. She was amazing, and the massage felt heavenly. She continued for about half an hour, massaging my arms, legs, back, hands and feet. She laid a hand on my chest as she finished, whispering to me. In the dim light of my bedroom, she whispered to me.

"Goodnight, sir. I enjoyed touching you." I grabbed her hand.

"Actually," I said. "That was pretty impressive. I wouldn't mind learning how to do that." I patted the bed where I had been laying. "Teach me a few things."

She smiled, taking my place. I rubbed her back at first, asking for direction.

"How's this?" I pushed my fingers across the skin of her back, pressing gently.

"More pressure." She offered.

"This?"

"More."

"I don't want to hurt you." I complained, taking my hands off her back.

"Thank you sir." She answered robotically. I realized she'd already told me what I needed to do. She wasn't going to argue with me. I redoubled my efforts, pressing firmly against her warm, smooth back. She moaned with pleasure.

"Mmm, yes, that's perfect."

I continued on for several minutes, probably about a quarter as long as she had massaged me. My fingers gave out. I was actually shaking from the exertion, It was such hard work. But I enjoyed it thoroughly. Running my hands over her body, even non-sexually, had been an extreme thrill.

"How was it?" I asked.

"Amazing sir. Thank you so much." She stood to leave, and stopped at the door.

"I'll sleep nude if you change your mind." She smiled. I was so nervous I couldn't make eye contact.

"Uh, noted. Thank you Margaret."

I didn't sleep well that night.

Texting took less out of me than phone calls. Margaret sat beside me the whole time. I typed and retyped my message several times before sending. Once Margaret and I were both happy with the text, I sent it. I had offered to buy his slave, and he told me I should come to his house if I wanted to do that kind of deal. It was not what I had hoped for. Phone calls were hard enough, but face-to-face meetings were my least favorite kind.

Once I was parked in the driveway of his ridiculously clean yard, staring at his trimmed hedges, I felt my entire heart in my throat. Every time I swallowed, I fought an entire mental battle to keep from vomiting. My hands shook.

"I couldn't buy a fucking car from somebody." I said. "I don't know how to do this."

Margaret laid a hand on my shoulder, leaning over from the passenger seat.

"You can do this." She looked me in the eyes, confidently.

"I'm glad one of us thinks so." I replied. She squeezed gently. I coughed into my hand and forced myself to open the door.

"Okay," I said, "I'm coming back with your friend. I stepped out of the car, and walked up to the front door, Margaret following closely behind. I took a breath at the front door, closed my eyes to calm myself. It took me a couple of seconds.

"Sir?" Margaret whispered. She eyed me, concerned.

I knocked. The several seconds of waiting were hard on my esophagus. I swallowed the bile. When the door opened, it was not William Henry or the slave I intended to buy, it was another woman, short and thin with a red ponytail. I hesitated when I saw her.

"Margaret... is this the wrong house?" I whispered. Margaret shook her head, whispering back.

"Lots of people have multiple slaves, sir."

"Oh. Right." I gathered my thoughts, and the young red haired girl stepped aside wordlessly to allow us in. The house was uncomfortable to both sight and smell. In just about every way, it was the opposite of mine. Every surface was clean. No dust particles or smudges. There was absolutely no clutter, the place looked completely unlived in. The scent of household cleaners overwhelmed the senses, leaving my nose itching from my first breath of air. Behind me, Margaret sneezed.

"Bless you," I whispered as we followed William Henry's unnamed slave through the home. She led us to a large, open room with a television mounted to one wall. A set of couches surrounded a low center table where William Henry himself sat, elbows on his knees, as if in deep thought. When we entered the room, he rose to greet me, shaking my hand and smiling.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Morgan. I understand you're interested in my pleasure slave." He received a sanitation wipe wordlessly from his red haired slave, nodding toward the end of the low table. Winnie was there, wearing a simple sundress and kneeling obediently.

"Uh, yes. That's right." I answered, and I couldn't help but watch him obsessively wipe the hand he had shaken mine with.

"Then we'll sit." He pointed to the couches. Margaret sneezed. William Henry looked at her, then to me. His head twitched slightly.

"...Do you mind?" He asked, glaring at her.

"Let's talk." I drew his attention back to me. We sat opposite one another. He was so confident, so relaxed. I was not. He threw an arm over the back of the couch with a broad smile. His slave stood behind him, silently awaiting orders. I noticed that Margaret had also taken up a position standing behind me. I wondered if that was part of training.

"What's generated your interest in, uh, Winnie?" He checked a set of notes on his lap. I had decided already that honesty wasn't a bad policy here. I was tense, sickened, and anxious. I was so far out of my element that lying wouldn't have been feasible anyway.

"My slave formed a friendship with her. I'm interested in keeping them together." I replied, as normally as I could. Margaret sneezed again. William Henry balled up a fist, glaring openly at her. He took a moment to compose himself.

"...Right. Well, I'll need to replace her if I decide to part with her. I assume your offer will be competitive." He said. I held my hand out to Margaret, who slipped a paper into my palm wordlessly. I slid it across the table.

"I think you'll find this offer sufficiently tamping- temping, uh, -tempting. Good." I fumbled my words, mentally kicking myself.

He didn't break eye contact with me as his slave walked around the table, picking up the slip and showing it to him. She then wordlessly took her place behind him. He looked as if he was about to speak when Margaret sneezed again. William Henry snapped.

"God dammit!" He swore out loud. "I'll charge you double that if you don't handle that fucking slave!" His face twisted with rage. I flinched, taken aback at his sudden outburst. Margaret stood in shock with a hand over her nose, eyes watering. I realized I'd have to do this alone.

"Go wait in the car." I ordered. I was angry, but not with her. William Henry had yelled at Margaret. He had upset me. Margaret hesitated, handed me the checkbook, and left. I was alone with William Henry and his slaves. He sat still, both fists clenched. I had to say something.

"I don't think she can help it, dude. It's whatever floor cleaner you use." He wrinkled his nose at me.

"I accept your offer." He replied, monotone. His redheaded slave brought out paper work, and finalized the transaction. I was glad he had paperwork ready, because I genuinely had no idea how to buy and sell or anything. As he was crossing the last T, he almost growled at me.

"Take your slut and get out of my house."

Winnie knelt at the end of the table, head bowed, and a collar and lead around her neck.

"Does she have any stuff?" I asked William.

"No. She came with nothing. She leaves with nothing. Just the dress." He replied. I sighed, and waved Winnie toward me.

"Let's get out of here."

Margaret let out an excited squeak. Turning in the passenger seat to face her friend, She slid over the armrest for a hug.

"We did it! We saved you!" Winnie accepted the awkward hug, smiling wide.

"Thank you so much," WInnie said, " And thank you, sire." She met my eyes in the rearview mirror.

Margaret sat back down in her seat, practically bouncing with joy.

"I'm so excited." She grabbed my hand, then leaned over and kissed my cheek.

"Well, this is definitely the happiest you've been." I said.

"Did he accept your first offer?" Margaret asked.

"Uh, yeah. We had to talk it out." Margaret seemed suspicious.

"You... talked it out?" She asked.

"Yeah." I replied, trying to avoid the subject. Margaret looked back at Winnie. Winnie sat in the backseat, hands folded in her lap, doing her best to look like a patient and obedient slave.

"He talked it out? Really?" Margaret asked again, completely incredulous.

"Yes ma'am." Winnie replied. I interjected.

"Oh, Margaret's not your superior. Ma'am is unnecessary. We're pretty casual here."

"Yes, sire," Winnie replied.

"You have permission to be completely informal." I clarified.

"Completely?" She asked.

"Sure." I waved my hand as if I didn't care at all.

"That might take some getting used to. That's quite a change from... my previous master."

"Well don't worry about it. I'm a lot nicer than most masters." I smiled at Winnie, and she smiled back.

Once home, I showed Winnie to one of the guest bedrooms. I still had the option of the servant's quarters, but why bother? There was no point in making her walk a quarter mile every morning for breakfast.

There was definitely an adjustment period for all of us. Winnie was quiet and reserved at first. In the same way as Margaret, she didn't trust me initially. Winnie wasn't sure where the boundary lay as far as my admonition to be "Relaxed and informal." I still got lots of 'Yes sires' And polite bowing initially. But After a few gentle reminders that such behavior was unnecessary, Winnie warmed up quickly. In fact, she grew casual much more quickly than Margaret had. Within a couple of days, we were on a first name basis - something Margaret wasn't even comfortable with.

Margaret was ecstatic the rest of the week. She talked more than I'd ever heard her talk. She told Winnie about how we met, how I was confused about if she was mine or not, and how I decided to keep her. Poor Winnie, I thought. The conversation was very one-sided. But Margaret was happy to have a friend, and I was happy for her.

The sun had begun to set when I concluded my workout. I could feel the temperature dropping as I made the short walk back to the main building from my home gym. I searched briefly for both of the women, and found only Winnie on the front porch.

Large, comfortable, and gabled, the front porch was a favorite spot for my mother to watch the sunset. Winnie was curled up in one of the porch chairs, legs tucked under her.

"Where's Margaret?" I asked. Winnie jumped a bit as I approached, startled from her thoughts.

"Oh, um, I think she went to her room." She replied. I looked to the sunset, perhaps another fifteen minutes out, and then back to Winnie.

"May I join you?" I asked.

"Of course, sir." she replied. I dropped into a seat next to hers, an outdoor couch. Neither of us spoke for a minute. She watched the horizon intensely, her eyes distant and unfocused.

"What's on your mind?" I asked.

"An old friend." She replied. "Are you nervous speaking with me?" I was surprised by her question. It was an abrupt change of topic.

"Uh, I don't know. Why do you ask?" I wasn't anxious at all, which was unusual for me. Especially when talking to a good-looking woman like Winnie.

"Margaret said you're always very nervous around her." She explained. "Why do you think that is?"

"I guess maybe I am. I don't know" I said. Winnie didn't say anything, staring out into the sunset silently.

"What friend are you thinking about?" I asked.

"A previous master," She said, "It's a long story."

"I've got plenty of time." I replied.

"You might regret letting me talk, if I really get into it." Winnie warned me.

"Nah. Shoot."

Winnie told her story, how she'd belonged to a variety of masters, some good, some bad, some neutral. She'd grown close to a couple of them, perhaps even made friends. Sitting on the porch watching the sunset had reminded her of an old man she'd once been close to. She was sad to have been separated from him. About halfway through her story Margaret joined us, sitting on the couch next to me. Winnie's story was very long, and Margaret eventually fell asleep. Her head lay on my shoulder as Winnie concluded.

[Winnie's story is titled 'The Seven Masters I served' published by LCDRformat]

The sun went down, and a chill started to creep up over the porch. She finished to the sound of crickets in the dark. Winnie's story ended with William Henry, and the cruelties he had exacted up until I purchased her. She looked sad and somber, explaining how she was happy to be free from him.

"I want to thank you again for the effort and financial burden you've shouldered for me. It was very kind." She said, frowning deeply.

"Thank her." I nodded to Margaret, still asleep. "She convinced me."

"She's a great kid. You're lucky to have her." Winnie concluded, still upset by something. I didn't want to say anything, perhaps a bit of my anxiety, but it felt even weirder not asking.

"You don't seem happy about it. You seem upset." I pressed. Winnie shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I feel awful, honestly." She replied.

"What? Why?"

"I wasn't alone in that hellhole." She said. I thought about the sad, quiet red-headed girl who had met us at the door. William Henry's other slave, who Winnie had told me was named Kate.

"Right. Kate." I said. Winnie brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and gritting her teeth.

"I couldn't have made it without her. She looked out for me. We suffered together. I shouldn't have left her. I'm a terrible friend."

"It's not your fault. There's nothing you could do." I tried to reassure her.

"I'm appreciative. You were very kind to save me, and when Margaret wakes up - it looks like she's asleep on the couch there - I'll thank her too. Both of you have been so kind. I don't deserve it, and it's...I'm just being plain selfish to ask more. But I can't sit by and do nothing... Will you go back for Kate?" Tears fell from her eyes as she forced the question out. I saw her pain clearly written on her face. She felt guilty. Responsible, like she had abandoned her friend. Survivor's guilt, I thought.

"I'm not against it." I said. "It just might be difficult. For one, He doesn't seem to like me right now."

"I know." She leaned forward, her feet dropping to the ground. She was hopeful, insistent. "But you'll try?" She was hopeful. I was not.

"I don't know if I will. I have... I have a lot of anxiety issues. I'm sure Margaret mentioned it to you. I can't talk to people normally. I didn't want to even go get you. This... disorder...makes my life a lot harder." I explained. Winnie was frowning hard now, her eyes moistening with tears.

"Yeah. Your life is so hard." She was angry, frustrated.

"That's not what I meant." I tried to explain, but she cut me off.

"You're young, rich, and the most beautiful, most expensive slave on the planet wants to fuck you so badly, she spent half of this week telling me about it. But go off, that must be so difficult for you. How unfair." She was mad, talking quickly. She choked on her last word, tears rolling down her face. I felt my face flush too, embarrassed.

"No..." I feebly tried to defend myself.

"No, you're right. Kate's fine being tortured by a madman. You're shy. It's not fair to ask you for that." She stood up from her chair, leaning towards me. "I don't care if you beat my ass for this. I'm not scared of you. You have her fooled," Winnie pointed to Margaret, who was now starting to wake up. "But I've been around. You're not kind, not loving. You're just 'A lot nicer than most masters,' because you're scared she won't like you." Winnie was almost yelling, and Margaret sat up, startled and groggy. I couldn't hold it together. I started to cry. All I could think was that she was right. I was a coward. Tears rolled down my cheeks. Margaret looked from one of us to the other, mouth agape in shock. Winnie sighed deeply, dropping back into her seat. I wiped my eyes, trying to hide the tears.

"Can I get you anything, master?" Margaret eventually asked.

"I'm... I just need a minute." I replied. Winnie sat forward, her face in her hands.

"Hey I'm... I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that." She was several years older than either Margaret or I, and she looked even older after her outburst. I couldn't say anything. I took some breaths trying to calm myself. Winnie continued.

"God, I'm sorry. I thought you were going to hit me or something. I kind of wanted you to. I didn't think I'd actually hurt your feelings." Winnie cringed as she looked at me.

"It's fine." I said through sniffles. "Maybe I did deserve that." Margaret was rubbing my back in small circles, staring at Winnie incredulously. I shrugged. "You're probably right. It just needed to be said." I collected myself for a moment. "I'll try to get Kate. Even if I can't, I'll try." Winnie reached out sympathetically.

"I didn't mean that stuff. You're a good guy." She rubbed my knee gently. "I'm just scared for my friend."

I felt defeated. I felt small, and more embarrassed than I'd ever been. I leaned over slowly, laying across the couch and resting my head on Margaret's lap.

"I don't want to be weak anymore." I said. I crossed my arms and stared out into the night.

"You're not." I was surprised when Margaret spoke. "You just have to work on it. You stood up to Mr. Mceachern already. You just have to work on it." Margaret repeated. Winnie slid to the floor, eyes level with me where I lay on the couch. She reached out and took my hand gently, smiling sweetly.

"I promise I'm usually a good slave." She winked. "And I'm sure you're a very kind master."

"Thanks Winnie." Winnie leaned up against the couch, her head resting on my chest. Margaret rubbed my arm affectionately.

The three of us sat quietly for a while. Margaret and I were both curious about our new housemate, so we spent some time asking her questions. Winnie had a variety of life experiences, and a breadth of different masters. I suspected that within her life experience was an explanation of why she was able to be so casual with me after such a short period. She had been owned by easygoing masters before, whereas Margaret hadn't. The only thing the younger, less experienced slave knew was what had been taught to her: strict discipline and respect. I wondered if at some point in her past Winnie would have been just as uptight as Margaret is now. I wondered also if Winnie's history was the explanation for her somewhat brutal directness. During a line of questioning about previous owners, a married couple with a voracious sexual appetite, Margaret's curiosity pushed the conversation.

"So you've had... two people at the same time?" Margaret asked.

"That's, yes, that's putting it mildly." Winnie replied. Margaret was fascinated now, as if she was a kid being told dirty secrets by an older sibling. She leaned forward, one knee bouncing nervously.

"What's like, the most sex you've ever had at once?" Margaret asked. I was mostly silent. The conversation was going down a road that made me feel awkward to even contemplate. Winnie felt no such reservations, laughing as she answered.

"Well, let's see... I've been the center of attention at a freeuse sex party." She replied. Margaret was speechless. I was a little shocked too.