Of Crystals and Watches Ch. 06

Then, the girl with the bass guitar ran out to center stage. For a moment, Mavis wondered what she was doing. But then the musician lifted her instrument above her head and smashed it on the ground. It bounced off the floor with no visible signs of damage.

The lead singer took this stride. "Give it up for our new bass player, everyone!" she yelled without the benefit of a microphone. "She was a little too excited for her first show. I'm just grateful that we don't have to pay for two new basses!" The other patrons laughed.

The bassist blushed in her embarrassment, but the moment was soon lost as the band members started to gather up their equipment and move it into the back room.

"What did you think?" Mavis asked Master once things had fully quieted down.

"It was...an experience, I'll give it that," he replied. "Do they have other artists that come here?"

"Yeah," Mavis answered.

"I might have to come see those then," Master commented.

Mavis sat silently for a moment, weighing her options in her mind. "Well, I'd love to treat you to a dinner that's more than a bowl of cereal, but I've already got plans for the evening," she finally said. "Unless..." she added, leaving Master the unspoken option to amend those plans.

"You go ahead," Master said. "My head's feeling clear for the first time in days, so this has been enough for me. I'm going to head home." He started to push his chair back to stand up, but paused, staring at something.

Mavis followed his sight line, her eyes settling on the bassist from the band, her face now clear of paint. Without the black and pink covering her Mavis could see that she was a cute little thing, adorable even. Probably a freshman at the college.

The girl, holding a guitar case in one hand, waved at someone in the backroom with the other. Her band mates, Mavis assumed. Then she turned and started walking towards the front door.

Master's eyes followed her, and as she passed he bolted up to his feet.

"Hey there," he said, in a uneven cadence that told Mavis that he was trying to get out a line that he had already thought of in his head, but was having to fight nerves to try and get it out of his mouth. A telltale sign of young man inexperienced with flirting, Mavis thought to herself.

"Hey there," he started again. "You're Mary. From Utah. Right?"

The girl paused mid-stride, staring at Master, clearly confused.

"Oh my God," she finally said, a bright blush spreading across her face and neck. "You're in my English class. Um, Jason? You said that you play guitar?"

"Yeah, totally," Master replied. "Would you, um, like to sit down and talk?" he asked, gesturing to one of the other chairs around the table.

"Um, sure," Mary said, leaning her guitar case against the table and sitting down in the chair. "Just please, don't tell anyone in class about this. I'd be so embarrassed if anyone found out about the kind of music I play. Or that I tried and failed to break my instrument like The Who. Or that I did break my instrument, just a song too early."

"Wouldn't even know where to start," Master assured her.

The two began talking about the class that they share, and their first impressions of their professor and classmates. Mavis tuned this out, choosing to instead focus on Mary's body.

The petite young woman was really adorable, she had to say. Moreover, her body type was something that Master did not yet possess in his harem. Mavis thought of herself as a fairly average woman physically, but the others were good specimens. Desiree, the busty and curvy blonde. Samantha, the fit and sporty redhead. Liz and Sarah, the identical dark haired beauties.

Mary was shorter than all of them, at best she was barely making 5 feet. Smaller chested too, and would probably have to duke it out with Samantha to be the chairwoman of the itty bitty titty committee. Granted, it was difficult to tell exactly how small Mary was given the clothes she was wearing. But that petite frame gave the Utah girl a cute factor that the others didn't possess, especially with the messy, light brown hair on her head.

Mavis imagined Mary in the ranks of Master's love-slaves and, for the first time since her enlightenment, she smiled at the idea of getting two people together. It was something that long been a favorite pastime of hers, matchmaking.

Not that she was looking to create happily married couples, though she had managed to make it happen for a few friends of hers. Really, it was just about her being a voyeur. She liked the idea that two people were doing the deed because of her actions, and she derived a great deal of joy out of it. It was part of the reason why she started renting out space in her home, so that she could guide the young women in her care during the time of their lives that they'd be the most adventurous when it comes to sex and romance.

Not to say that is was the only reason, nor that it was her only interest in other people. But it was a fetish that she liked to indulge in, one that she couldn't ever since she learned of her true purpose. How was she supposed to find joy and pleasure in the sexual lives of other people if no one but her Master deserved that kind of attention from her? The answer was to get Master involved, of course.

Perhaps that was why she had taken the chance to bring the twins into the fold. It would certainly explain the interest in this girl.

"Jason said you're from Utah," Mavis spoke up, inserting herself into an empty space in the conversation. "Is that right?"

"Um, yeah," Mary replied.

"Are you Mormon then?" Mavis followed up.

"Come on now," Master commented. "Don't you think that's a little presumptuous?"

"No, it's alright," Mary said. "I was, uh, raised Mormon."

Mavis leaned forward in her seat, a smile coming to her face as she let her curiosity carry her. "Oh. 'Raised.' So you don't consider yourself Mormon now that you're away from Mom and Dad?"

"Um," Mary began, clearly unsure of herself. "No. At least, I don't think so."

Master put his arm on the table, vaguely putting himself between the two woman. "I think that's enough. We don't need to pry into her personal life after only knowing her for one night."

Mavis wanted to continue pushing, learn more about this girl. The more info, the more tools she could use to bring this girl into Master's care. But then she looked at Master's face and saw the concern and discomfort there. Feelings that we were soon reflected onto Mavis herself.

"Right, I'm sorry," she said, leaning back into her seat. "Got a little too excited to be meeting someone new, that's all."

"N-no, think nothing of it" Mary replied. "I'm actually glad to be, um, making new friends here. I don't know anybody at the school."

"Oh, you poor thing," Mavis commented. "Listen," she added, getting out of her chair. "I actually have other plans that I need to attend to. Jason, how about you give her our address? That way she can come over whenever she's ready. I can show her around town, introduce her to people, etc, etc."

"Um, sure," Jason replied. "If that's OK with you," he added, turning to Mary.

"OK," she replied with a nod.

Mavis walked away from the table and out of the restaurant. She smiled to herself, barely able to contain her glee. She had rediscovered her favorite pastime, and better than ever too. After all, not only would this be an outlet for her voyeuristic tendencies, if she played her cards right it might even bring Master happiness and pleasure. Fulfilling her greatest purpose while pursuing a hobby? Nothing could be better than that.

***

Desiree sipped from a glass of water, waiting for her fellow Love-Slaves to arrive. Samantha sat beside her, tapping her foot to while the time away. The two had come together to the restaurant, all so that they could discuss Mavis' issues.

A knock on the door separating the private booth from the rest of the restaurant signaled new arrivals.

"Come in," Samantha called out, Desiree half expecting it to be the waiter Instead, it was one of the twins who made their appearance.

"Oh, hey Sarah," Desiree said, her eyes quickly finding the choker around the girl's neck and reading the name tag. "Is that new?" she asked, pointing at it.

"What, this?" Sarah responded, putting her fingers to it as she sat down and Liz closed the door behind them. "Yeah, we decided that we needed to identify ourselves so that Master wouldn't be upset if he confused us.

"Good thinking," Desiree commented.

"What's this about anyway?" Liz asked. "You were kind of vague in your texts."

"That's...something that would be easier to explain once Mavis gets here," Desiree replied.

"Oh," Liz said. "I guess we're waiting for her then."

"Yeah," Desiree confirmed.

A silent moment followed, save for Samantha tapping her fingers on the tabletop. The four Love-Slaves glanced at each, unsure what to say or do next in their awkwardness.

"So, um, I've got a question I'd like to ask you guys," Liz finally spoke up.

"OK, shoot," Samantha replied.

"Do you guys think, um," she began before leaning in and whispering despite the private setting. "That we should shave? Down there." She pointed downward at the table to make her meaning clearer.

"Oh my god," Sarah said, rolling her eyes. "We've been over this. Yes, you should probably shave your pussy. You shave your armpits, you shave your legs, how is your pussy any different?"

"I know we talked about it," Liz replied. "I just want second opinions."

"Well, um," Desiree began, unsure of herself. "I can't say that I've ever wanted to shave or wax down there. I've always just kind of...let it be?"

"I used to trim it short back when I was still training," Samantha said. "It would get wet and itchy with sweat during workouts if I left it too long. I stopped caring after I finished fencing though."

"Fencing?" Liz echoed. "What level?"

"Olympic," Samantha answered.

"Wow," Liz commented as her sister let out an impressed whistle.

"Did you bang anybody at the village?" Sarah asked.

Liz turned to her twin, her long dark hair twirling about her head from the speed with which she moved. "Sarah, don't ask questions like that," she cautioned.

"No it's alright, I've got nothing to hide from you guys. We all serve the same Master," Samantha said. "And whatever stories you've heard about orgies or sex parties at the Olympic Village, its a fraction of what really happens."

"Really?" Sarah asked, her eyes lighting up as Liz covered her own face in embarrassment.

"Oh, yeah," Samantha replied, smiling as she was brought back to the heights she had achieved as an Olympian. "I've never been much of a sex fiend, but I had an older teammate who was and for two weeks she dragged me down into the depths with her."

Desiree sighed and leaned back in her seat, preparing to listen once more to the story of Samantha's Olympic Village escapades. Normally it was something that would only come about once the redhead had some alcohol in her, but Desiree guessed that becoming a Love-Slave had made her a bit less inhibited.

"I swear, the things that woman was able to make me do," Samantha continued. "When I left to go to the Olympics, I'd only ever been with one person, my old high school boyfriend. Even then, we'd only done the deed once before we broke up and went our separate ways for college."

"What did you do?" Sarah asked, literally hanging on the edge of her seat. "Come on. This might give me good ideas for things to do with Master."

"Oh, everything," Samantha answered. "Or more specifically, everyone. As soon we got back from the opening ceremony, my teammate was in my ear. This was a rare opportunity, she kept telling me. Surrounded by so many people at the peak of human fitness, a lot of them ready to fuck at a moment's notice because of the stress of having to make the most of a once every four years chance at their dreams. By the second night, I'd taken her advice and slept with a handsome Italian volleyball player. Then I did the 'rounds,' as my teammate called it. By the end of my fourth night, I'd slept with a man from every continent."

"Except Antarctica?" Liz asked

Samantha paused, pulled out of the rhythm of her story. "Yes, except Antarctica," she confirmed. "Obviously."

"Anyway, please continue," Sarah encouraged the redhead.

"Oh, right," Samantha said, getting herself back on track. "After that, my teammate just kept pushing my horizons. I had my first lesbian experience, my first anal, my first threesome. I got spit roasted one night, then pegged a guy the next."

"What does spit roast mean?" Liz asked. "And pegging?"

"Hush," Liz ordered her sister, doing the 'zip it' sign at her without looking at her twin. "I'll tell you later."

Samantha paused for a moment, letting everyone's attention return to her in the silence before picking up where she'd left off. "By the night of the closing ceremony, I'd had sex with men and women with every body type and in every combination you could think of. Then, after the ceremony, my teammate let me in on the secret crescendo."

"What, what!?" Sarah exclaimed, unable to hide her excitement.

"She told that there was a massive orgy happening, to see off the village before it was closed forever," Samantha explained. "There must have been more than 50 people. By the time the sun rose and I was supposed to be getting on plane to head back home, I was struggling to stand after having been fucked silly multiple times over. Everything that I'd experienced for the first time during the Olympics, I did almost all of them again during that one night."

"What did you do after you got home?" Liz asked.

Samantha shrugged before answering. "I returned to normal. I would have a few flings every year, was never really able to nail down a long term partner before Master. I also haven't had sex with a woman or with more than one person since that last orgy. I guess the lesson that I pull out of the experience is that a person can be completely normal, but if you put them in unusual circumstances and put certain influences around them, then you turn them into as much of a freak as anybody."

That last bit piqued Desiree's interest. She had heard different versions of that story maybe half a dozen times since she had met Samantha, and each one ended the same way. But it hit her differently now. Their circumstances had changed, and there were certainly influences acting upon them. What did it say about their future? What about Master's?

Suddenly the door crashed open. "Hello, ladies!" Mavis exclaimed, a daiquiri in her hand. She closed the door behind her before taking up the last seat, a broad smile setting her face aglow.

"You look happy for someone who has some big issue that we're here to discuss," Sarah commented.

"Well, I took Master out someplace where he could listen to live music and I had myself an epiphany," Mavis replied before letting out an excited giggle.

"OK..." Desiree said, trying to figure out where this was going.

"I know what my role in the Harem should be," Mavis continued. "The Recruiter."

"The what?" Desiree asked, scarcely believing what she was hearing.

"The Recruiter," Mavis repeated. "You know, finding more women to enslave to Master."

Mavis said that so casually that the implications almost went over Desiree's head.

"No!" she belatedly said through clenched teeth, trying desperately not to yell. "You cannot just go waltzing around, blasting every woman you see with the watch and enslaving them!"

"Why not?" Mavis asked. "We all know how wonderful it is to be Master's Love-Slaves."

"Didn't we talk about this when we brought the twins in?" Samantha asked. "We don't know if Master would be happy with more slaves."

"I think I can do it in a way that will please Master, I already know one girl that I think he's got a thing for," Mavis responded. "Come on, please, let me have the watch, Des," she pleaded. "This is how I get my spark back."

"OK, what is this all about?" Sarah asked.

"Mavis fancies herself a matchmaker," Samantha explained. "She gets off on getting other people to sleep together."

"And ever since she became a Love-Slave, she hasn't able to find pleasure in people other than Master," Desiree added. "That and her fear that Master wouldn't be able to find time for all five of us is the reason why we're here."

"Wait, so you're afraid that Master won't be able to handle five of us, but you want to give him more Love-Slaves? That makes no sense," Liz pointed out.

"OK, that's fair," Mavis admitted. "I didn't really think that part through all the way." She took a sip of her drink. "OK, I've got nothing else to add. Except that variety is the spice of life."

"That just off the top of your head?" Sarah asked.

"Completely," Mavis answered. "I do think we need more diversity though."

"What are you talking about?" Sarah countered. "We've got beautiful twins, we've got a busty blonde, we've got a sporty redhead, I'd say that's pretty varied. Oh, and a...old woman."

Liz slapped her sister on the arm. "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything!" she hissed.

"Sorry," Sarah pleaded. "My mouth ran away from me and I didn't know what else to say."

Mavis sat back, sipping at her drink with a sullen look on her face.

"I'm only 38," she stated, refusing to make eye contact with anyone else at the table.

Samantha burst out laughing at this, soon followed by Desiree. Then the twins joined in. Mavis even let herself start to chuckle.

"OK, we have to start doing this every week," Sarah said. "Liz and I need to start getting to know you three better if we're really going to do this. Same time next week?"

"Let's do it on Friday nights instead," Liz offered. "Then we don't have to worry about classes or work the morning after."

"That's fair," Mavis said before lifting her glass for a toast. "Here's to Friday night slave nights."

"Here's to trying to figure all this shit out," Desiree added, lifting her glass of water to meet Mavis.

The other girls brought their own drinks to bear, clinking all five of them together.