The Lilac Society Ch. 01

Eventually, we made our way to the front door of Rose 3. I held the door for Lauren as we entered the unfamiliar lobby, where she discreetly pointed at a chair to the side.

"Wait there."

I walked to the chair in question while Lauren went upstairs to her room. Around the lobby, a few people hung out, ignoring me. I still felt disoriented, wondering what she was up to, and hoped I didn't run into anyone I knew. About five minutes later, the elevator doors opened, and Lauren walked out, carrying a laundry basket with a large bag, presumably full of laundry. Approaching me, she spoke directly and discreetly.

"Chris, all of this can be dried in the dryer. I expect it all to be washed, dried, and folded neatly, in the basket. Bring it back here tonight at eleven. That means I'll be waiting for you right here at exactly eleven. Not a minute early, not a minute late. Is that clear?"

I took a deep breath.

"Yes, Lauren."

"Then go."

Lauren turned and walked back toward the elevator, leaving me standing in the middle of the lobby holding the basket.

It took me a minute to get my bearings. I think I might have stared at the closed elevator door for a full minute, stunned. It may have opened and closed another time or two, for all I know. I was in shock. If it hadn't been for the basket full of laundry in my hands, I might have convinced myself that I'd dreamed the whole thing.

The laundry basket. I looked up at the clock. Quickly, I walked out the door, and back across campus toward the outer parking lot, and my car. I remembered that my key was in my backpack. For some reason, I didn't want to do these loads of laundry on campus, where I could be seen by someone I knew.

I drove as quickly as I could to an off-campus laundromat that I'd used before. Fortunately, it was mostly deserted. I poured the contents of the bag onto a table and sorted Lauren's clothes into colors. There were pants and shorts, shirts, socks, pajamas, and sheets. I glanced over her dirty clothes, and sighed. This was more evidence that she was real. All of this, whatever this was, had actually happened, was still happening. Sighing again, I set about sorting. Lauren, it seemed, had sensibly removed her underwear from the load. I wouldn't be allowed to wash those.

I filled five washers simultaneously with Lauren's laundry, used the exchange machine to get change in quarters, used another machine to buy detergent with my debit card, then started all five washers, one by one. I checked the time. I tried to start my homework, which was still inside my backpack, but it was difficult. I had one eye on the clock, and another on each of the washers. And my mind was on Lauren, and on whatever sort of predicament I'd gotten myself into.

How long have you known that you are a slave?

Oh dear God. I shivered every time I thought of it. That girl certainly knew how to spin me. Not that I'd minded being spun. The whole day seemed so surreal. Are a slave; not want to be a slave. Are a slave. The way she'd kept me waiting so long, ignoring me, just knowing that I'd wait on her. The way she just casually gave me little orders, assuming I'd fall in line. And of course, I did. I figured that Lauren was the type to just recognize a man with submissive tendencies when she sees him. Holy shit. How long have I known that I am a slave? Well, Lauren, I thought, maybe I've always known. Maybe I've always been a slave, unfulfilled, just waiting for you to come along and claim me.

I felt my dick becoming erect just thinking about it now. Just thinking about Lauren, her pretty face, her strict demeanor, the way she talked to me, my cock was stretching against my jeans. Earlier, as I'd actually looked at her, listened to her, spoke with her, I was too nervous, too terrified to have this kind of reaction. There was that familiar sick, nervous feeling in my stomach, that sweet submissive feeling taking over. But my dick had been limp. Now, remembering everything Lauren said and did in excruciating detail, it was catching up.

Before the washers finished, I got out my debit card, went to the machine, and bought dryer sheets. I wanted to do this right, for Lauren. Did I want to avoid getting in some sort of trouble? Or did I just want to impress her? Please her? Some combination of the three? I wasn't sure, but I knew I just had to do this task the best I possibly could.

As each load came out of the washer, I inspected it then put it into the dryer. I did my best to choose the correct setting. I gave up on homework, decided to watch each load instead, to make sure I took it out when it was dried perfectly. I checked the clock again.

I imagined Lauren watching me, making sure this was all done perfectly. My imagination began to wander. I started to imagine making a mistake, and Lauren pulling down my jeans, my underwear, bending me over, spanking me hard. My breath caught a little in my throat. I wondered how it would feel to kneel at Lauren's feet. Beginning to wonder what her bare feet looked like, I felt my dick swell so fast I thought I was going to lose control right there in the laundromat.

I couldn't stop thinking of Lauren, her face now seared into my mind, pretty face but cold, hard stare, and I sighed.

First load finished, I began folding, carefully. I wished I knew exactly how Lauren preferred her shirts folded, her shorts folded. Making my best guesses, I stacked each item carefully on a table, waiting for everything to be finished before loading the basket. I wanted no wrinkles. I struggled, wishing there was a way known to mankind to fold a fitted sheet. Again, I checked the clock.

Finally, I very, very carefully loaded the basket, draping the empty bag carefully over the top, and carrying the whole thing back to the car. Driving back to campus, I was nervous. This day had been bizarre. I'd left Physics class expecting to do some homework, work on a project, meet up with some friends for supper, maybe play some hoops, hang out for awhile before studying for my test tomorrow. Now it was nearly eleven and I hadn't studied, handn't eaten, hadn't seen a single friend. It was as if I'd been kidnapped. Delightfully kidnapped, I thought. I sighed deeply. Maybe Lauren would just keep me in her room forever.

Back on campus, I quickly carried the basket to my destination. Arriving outside Lauren's dorm, I checked the time on my phone. 10:49. Not bad. I had eleven minutes. I wasn't allowed to walk in early, though. What to do? I decided to sit down on a bench just outside the building, laundry basket at my feet, pretending to play on my phone, and hoped nobody I knew would see me. I kept checking the time every minute. At 10:59, I counted 45 seconds, then stood up, rounded the corner, and walked into the lobby. There was no sign of Lauren.

I didn't know what to do. I was sort of shocked. I'd busted my ass to make this deadline exactly. I felt like some sort of asshole, standing in the middle of a dorm lobby, people studying to the side, a few people nearly running into me, walking around me, just standing in the middle of everything holding a laundry basket. After I scanned the room, seeing no sign of her, I decided to walk to a chair off to the side, set the basket down on the chair, stand beside it, and wait.

I waited a bit longer. And then I waited longer still.

Five minutes went by. Then five more. Where was Lauren? I felt like a fool standing here with her laundry, but I couldn't do anything except wait. I checked my phone. It was indeed 11:12. No messages. Did she have my phone number? Maybe she was on the phone or something, and couldn't get away. I'd better wait longer, I thought. After all, it's what she would want me to do. And anyway, what in the world would I do with her laundry? So I waited.

Ten more minutes went by. A few minutes past 11:20, I heard a voice behind me.

"Hello, Chris."

I turned around. Lauren was walking in from outside.

"Lauren. Um, hello. Everything is here, Lauren. Washed and folded."

I was sort of angry, but didn't feel like I had any standing to say anything about it. Just then, someone joined us. A dark-haired girl who had been sitting at a table in the far corner of the lobby, working on her laptop the whole time I'd been waiting walked up to us.

"Hey. He walked in at 11. Right on the dot."

I was a bit confused. Lauren looked at me, gave me a little bit of a smile, and spoke.

"Good boy!"

She looked at the girl standing with us, a taller girl, pale, freckled, with shoulder-length dark brown hair.

"Thanks, Kelsey."

Lauren turned to me.

"Chris, this is Kelsey. Treat her with respect."

"Yes, Lauren."

I turned to Kelsey.

"Hello Kelsey. It's nice to meet you, ma'am."

Kelsey half-waved at me casually.

"Hey. See ya, Lauren."

Then she was off to gather her laptop, and leave.

Lauren picked up her laundry basket.

"I'll be in touch, Chris. Be expecting my call."

"Yes, Lauren."

But she was already walking away. I walked back to my dorm in a sweet daze, excited and confused, with hours of schoolwork ahead of me.