The Luckiest Man Alive Ch. 01-02

I was physically the tallest and the strongest of the five of us, though only barely. But don't think for one moment that any of the Four Queens were slouches. Even Gaia was right there alongside her slaves, pitching in and toting the other end of the chest of the drawers up all four flights of stairs. The one who surprised me the most, though, was Cat. Cat may look like a little Hibernian pixie, but that girl did not quit. Even after I was panting my life out and sweating like a dog, that pixie was dashing up and down those stairs like they were nothing.

"Gods," I said, watching her go, "how do you do it?"

She just laughed at me. "Nobles," she snorted. "You people don't know what work is."

So, we did it. I was honestly surprised how well it all fit when we were done. Floor space was at a premium and we did everything we could to conserve it. The three chests, once emptied, fit under the bed snugly. The filing cabinet slid neatly under one end of the desk. The refrigerator/microwave stack fit in the closet. The damn marble statue (which was heavy as a boat anchor) fit on top of the bureau.

At least we had the five of us working in tandem. I personally witnessed a few students who had more stuff than Gaia and only one poor beleaguered slave girl. Those pitiable wretches were given the glorious privilege of doing all the work while their domina helpfully supervised and barked constant orders.

Gaia's room shared a bathroom with another identical but mirror reversed dorm. Both residences had a doorway into the bathroom between the two rooms. We were room 513. They were 514.

The connecting bathroom was nothing special -- a white tiled room with two sinks, one toilet and a shower. That shower was an oddity. It was separated by a sliding door and was weirdly spacious, more like a little room all to itself. The shower even had a broad wooden bench in it where two or three people could comfortably sit. I recognized this is as an old style turn of the century slave shower. They were out of fashion now, but many showers were once large enough to not only accommodate one person but also a second whose presumed role was to scrub their master. You know or whatever.

A second dorm meant we had a suite mate. We also got to meet her later in the day, as we were taking a break from all the back breaking labor.

"You must be my suite-y!" the unfamiliar young woman said to Gaia, crossing through the bathroom.

"Oh, hi!" said the sweaty Gaia, taking a break from unpacking a box to meet the neighbor.

"I am the Lady Marcella Tyronius and this is my Adonya. But please call me Marcie!" she said in a chipper voice. Marcie was a cute little noblewoman with a great mop of curly brown hair and skin the color of mocha. She was quite curvaceous and I would even describe her as pudgy. She wore a parade of colors, a prodigious amount of golden jewelry and showed no signs of being sweaty at all. The same could not be said for her obviously exhausted slave.

"Adonya, bow to the lady."

The tall, athletic slave girl behind her quickly complied.

"A pleasure. I am the Lady Gaia Vetronius," my sister answered simply.

"Oh, goodness! Are all of these yours?" she said looking over us.

"I'm afraid so."

"And one of them is a boy. How wicked!" she said with a smile "Wait, not Vetronius like the Baron Hadrian Vetronius?"

Gaia simply shrugged. "I usually just call him dad."

"Wow!" she said, genuinely excited. "Last year they saddled me with a merchant's daughter. But real Imperial nobility! Anyways, these are for you! Sweets for my suite-y!" She then had Adonya present with a bow to Gaia a large basket full of chocolate chip cookies.

"Oh, this is great!" said Gaia, "But I didn't get you anything."

"No worries, dear! It's tradition for the upper classmen to get something for the freshmen," she said. "Anyways, we've got a lot to do yet."

"Oh, me too!" said Gaia.

"See you at orientation tomorrow, suite-y!" said Marcie with a wave.

"I look forward to it, Marcie. Everyone, bow to the lady," and we returned the courtesy in unison.

"Four slaves! What flash!" she said with a wide smile. "Adonya, back to work! No supper till you finish unpacking."

And they were gone, leaving us to finish up our own room. We did each try a chocolate chip cookie. They were obviously homemade, ridiculously rich and delicious. I could taste the browned butter and the fine dark chocolate.

Gaia counted the cookies after she finished hers. "These are so good! There are ten left. Everyone gets two." They were the first things (beside water bottles) to find a home in our little, rapidly cooling refrigerator.

By day's end, the moving truck was empty, long gone and the dorm room was a done deal. We were all exhausted and justifiably proud of the condition of our new shared dwelling. We had sandwiches for dinner and also discovered that Cat had smuggled in five illicit bottles of beer in the picnic basket for us to celebrate our finished labor. That cold amber beer, chilled in Gaia's dorm fridge, tasted just like heaven. It was the first alcohol I'd had in months. We toasted our shared labor and that is when it dawned on all of us what we had forgotten. We, all five of us, had to sleep in that very room -- tonight. There was only one bed.

The sofa was a fine second bed, though it held only one. There was also extra bedding enough to fill the floor with makeshift pallets but there were only four pillows. The solution was obvious -- one of us needed to sleep with Gaia in her massive bed. It was an awkward conversation to say the least.

Fortunately, Gaia again took charge and said, "Cat's the smallest, you can bunk with me for now."

The other three of us then rock-paper-scissored for the sofa. Zandra won and that meant the floor for Stella and me. I was cool with that arrangement. I think Stella was less so. Again, after the day's physical labor, it didn't take long for any of us to crash.

Oh, what's that? No, we didn't all fuck the first night. This may be pornography but there was too much exhaustion, uncertainty and insecurity for that.

***

The next day was the last Sunday before the fall semester began. We got to sleep in, which was glorious. This was a pleasure I hadn't enjoyed since my arrest months ago. There was orientation, but that wasn't until 2:00 pm.

Gaia had to attend student orientation without us and all of us were required instead to report to the slave briefing at the same time. But before that, we received our required slave garments and campus ownership tags. There was some confusion because Gaia had one extra slave -- but she cleared that up soon enough.

Students had no dress code or uniform on campus. There was even a clothing optional pool and park for students only. This didn't surprise us. The Old Empire had a long tradition of legal public nudity. The New had always been more conservative and North Austrea was far enough north to make nudism rare, you know, on account of it being so fucking cold. But this was South Austrea -- famous for its warm, long summers and mild winters. Students did have to dress for classes and official functions though.

Slaves received no such luxuries or liberties. We all were required, whenever out of the dorm rooms, to wear tracking collars, ownership tags, tight high-waisted white leggings, a blue short-sleeve belted tunic and matching sandals. There was also an optional jacket for cold weather and plain grey workout sweats that read in stencils 'Property of G. Vetronius'. The tunic and jacket were adorned with a stylized version of the school's symbol -- a ring of seven white stars and on back and front was written 'servus' in large white letters. We were given two of everything -- one to wear and one to wash. I tossed my old prison provided flea-ridden sackcloth slave garments into the garbage, glad to be forever rid of them.

The uniform was ridiculously impractical. The outfit was almost entirely white which meant it showed dirt magnificently. We were expected to keep it immaculate which meant daily washings. The washing machines and dryers were, of course, on the first floor. I immediately anticipated that those stairs and I were going to become close friends.

If that wasn't enough -- when I say the leggings were tight, I mean like body stocking tight. They were white and sheer and left little to the imagination. As a practical day to day wardrobe choice, I repeat, ridiculous.

At the slave briefing, we got to meet our floor overseer DeeDee (aka Davinia DeVarna). DeeDee had been a slave once but had earned her freedom some years ago. She still lived here, though, and out of habit still called anyone noble domina or dominus (something she didn't legally have to do). DeeDee was a thin, gawky woman probably in her late thirties or early forties. She had long brown hair tied back into a severe bun. She wasn't exactly attractive but also not ugly. Plain. That's the word. And honestly, I was fine with that.

Except she obviously, immediately, unabashedly hated me. You might expect a former slave to have some sympathy for those currently enduring servitude. DeeDee gave no hint of that. Instead, she was immediately certain that I did not belong here.

There were almost a hundred slaves on this floor along with the sixty students. I was both the only death-marked slave and the only male amongst them. This was an all-girls dorm you see. There were mixed dorms and men's dorms on campus, but this wasn't one of them. The Lady Quinta Regulus Memorial Student Residence (commonly called the Q) was the oldest, most prestigious and most expensive dormitory on campus. As far as DeeDee was concerned, I was defiling this venerable institution just by my wicked, penis-y presence.

But here was her conundrum. Men weren't allowed in the Q. But, aha! I wasn't a man. Men, you see, are people. I was instead property and not just anyone's property. I was owned by an Imperial noble and heir to one the largest holdings on the West Coast. I was Gaia Vetronius' personal slave boy. So, she had to tolerate me, but she definitely did not have to like me. She actually didn't say a single word to me specifically at the briefing. Her feelings were instead conveyed to me in a series of glowering, hate-filled stares.

"Good afternoon," she stated flatly, "Tomorrow, as the semester begins, your dominae will be embarking upon a most sublime journey of scholarship and self-actualization. It is our duty to ensure that this journey is as pleasant and proper as possible. I am your floor matron, Davinia DeVarna. Your ladies and my fellow matrons may call me DeeDee from time to time. You slaves will address me only as Miss DeVarna or Matron. It is my sworn duty to oversee the slaves assigned to this floor and ensure all is in order. I take this duty intensely seriously." She was staring straight at me during that last bit.

The briefing took about an hour. We learned where we were allowed to be and when. The details were largely boring, so I'll skip them. Suffice to say we were expected to be in our dorm rooms unless we were with or serving our domina. We weren't quite prisoners otherwise. We were required to report to morning exercises as well as to receive three meals a day. But everything else had to be cleared with and authorized by our owners. We always had to sign in and out at the front desk.

If we screwed any of this up, we would be lashed. If we screwed up a lot, there would be lots of lashes and even possible permanent banning from campus. Once more she was staring straight at me, but this time with a braided leather lash clutched firmly in her grip.

"I have had, in my entire fourteen year career as floor matron, only one semester when no lashings had to be administered. I have prayed to the gods that this will be another. Will this be? That is not in my hands. It is in yours." And more stares, lash gripped white knuckle tight.

She ended the briefing with a single demonstrative crack of her whip. Today, it lashed only a piece of paper in half from across the room. Then she dismissed us and we each returned to our assigned dwellings.

I won't sugar coat this. When we got back to the room after orientation, I could tell that the other three girls were shaken and even scared by DeeDee. Zee went straight into the bathroom and cried. Yesterday, I think, as we all pitched in together and shared cookies and beer, the three girls had almost forgotten that they were property.

Stella, Cat and Zee -- they had not gone through hell to get here like I had. They had not been subjected to prison and branding and potential crucifixion. For them, their sale and processing had been a genteel and largely formal affair. Today, they learned the truth -- it always sucks to be a slave.

DeeDee may have claimed she didn't want to lash us, but we were now all sure that was a damn lie. She kept this job after she was freed not because it was a great career move but because she loved punishing slaves. She was eager for some infractions. Nothing excited her more than a slave naked, tied to a post and helpless under her beloved lash. She wanted her turn with all of us.

But especially me.

***

Monday was the first day of classes. Slaves were required to awaken and be dressed and ready by 6:00 am for our mandatory hour of exercises. Slaves living in the Q got five hours a week of required calisthenics in the field next to the dorm. There was also a slave weight room but that was optional and had to be used on our own time. DeeDee put us through our paces, with her beloved lash secured to her belt.

Then a quick breakfast, which we barely made because we weren't exactly sure where to go. And we had to be back in the room, showered and in our uniforms in time for student wake up at 8:00 am. It was expected that we would provide tea and coffee service to our domina. Gaia was already up and dressed, no doubt awakened by our mass exodus hours earlier, and had already made coffee for herself and all us.

We chatted, sipped coffee and it was just like old times. We could have been back in her salon in the House of a Thousand Horses. Stella served as her private secretary and went over the day's schedule with my sister. Gaia, sat on her balcony, listening to it all, reading the school paper and looking like she was the Empress of the Earth.

Gaia and Stella then left together to get breakfast in the student cafeteria before their first class -- freshmen physics. Gaia was allowed to bring one slave study assistant to all her classes (except P.E.) and of course Stella was the obvious best choice. I had barely survived high school physics two years prior. Anyone who had to rely upon my help to get through a collegiate level science course was in dire straits indeed.

By 8:30 a.m. Zandra, Cat and myself were left alone in the room all day with a vague order to "clean up the place." Which it definitely did not yet need. We'd only unpacked everything yesterday.

Regardless, we did that. I then strolled into the bathroom, needing to use the facilities. I discovered much to my surprise a very naked Adonya scrubbing the floor. This was really my first good look at my fellow suite slave.

Adonya was not what you'd call a classic beauty. She was too tall and too broad. She had a dark tan that well matched her tawny, long dreadlocked hair. She also had a lot of tattoos including a very large seal on her back that I think was the Lady Marcella's house emblem. She was muscular, taller than me by probably four inches and clearly well used to physical labor. If I had to describe her in a word it would be Amazonian. She cut a pretty intimidating figure all told. And she was naked, butt up in the air, intensely scrubbing the toilet's base and facing away from me as I walked into the bathroom.

"Oh, Gods! Sorry!" And I quickly turned to leave.

She instead just unashamedly looked back at me. "You need the head?"

"I can wait."

"No need. I was just getting it done in case Lady Marcie comes back early. She's a stickler for a clean potty." She had a faint accent. Caribbean maybe?

"Right," I averted my eyes trying to be polite.

Adonya didn't seem to care. She rose, still stark naked and walked towards me. "We haven't been introduced proper. I'm Adonya. You can call me Donnie when the lady's not around."

"Gaius," I returned.

"I knew a Gaius once. We called him 'Guy'. He was a friend of my brother Billy. Pleasure to meet you, Guy." She paused, noticing I was still looking away. "Are you nervous about me being naked?"

"No, no," I lied, "Not at all."

She laughed and leaned against the wall right next to me. Her large boobs were just right in my face. "You're new. Look, here's some free advice, sugar britches -- don't clean up wearing that stupid stocking. Look at ya! It ain't even nine and you already scuffed your knees. DeeDee will be all over your shit if she catches you with a speck of dirt on those damned tights. This is my third year in the Q. I know. The bitch lives for it."

I looked down and noticed she was right. There was a little dirt on the knee where I had been cleaning a few minutes earlier.

"Take 'em off."

"What?"

"The pants, pretty boy. Lose 'em!"

She seemed insistent, so I complied. She then took the white tights, put them in the sink, soaked them, scrubbed them and put a bit of bleach on them, rinsed them and hung them up on the towel rack. "They dry fast. They'll be bright white again and ready to wear in half an hour. See, now you don't have to trek all the way down to the washers just to do the tights. The washers are super-busy in the mornings."

This was all great to know. But, when I was stripped naked at the slave auction, I had been given no underwear and so, I was balls out in front of this amazon. My privates were only barely covered by the hem of my tunic. And then Cat walked in. She also seemed pretty non-plussed about this.

"Oh hi, Adonya."

"Donnie, please."

"I'm Catherine O'Shaughnessy. Everybody calls me Cat. The other one is Zee. Stella is away with the lady. You already met Gaius."

"Guy, Cat, Zee and Stella," Donnie recited to herself. "Got it! Hey, I gotta know. How come there are four of ya? That's a crazy lot o' slaves for one room. Nobody else in the whole resta' the Q's got four. Room's not really big enough, you know?"

"You don't say," I said.

"It's a bit of story," said Cat. "I'll tell you later. Hey, I got a question for you? If I had some extra weed, do you know where I could get an inflatable mattress?"

"You need to do a bit a' tradin'?" asked Donnie with a smirk. "Let me see the weed."

Cat immediately produced a small baggie almost magically from beneath her tunic. Wait, Cat had drugs? Donnie took a sniff. "Hey, that's good stuff."

"A going away present from my brother. It's primo hydro indica."

"So skunky!" Donnie said, handing it back. "Okay, here's the deal. I'll help you arrange a trade for one of those cookies my lady gave you. Your boss won't miss one will she? I love those damn things."

"Goodie!" said Cat who quickly returned with a cookie that the naked Adonya immediately devoured.

"My auntie Nellie runs the kitchen back home," Donnie explained between bites. "She makes 'em with brown butter, maple sugar and extra vanilla. I was raised on 'em. So good! Anyway, morning is not the time for trades. Too many ladies about and everyone's got morning chores. After lunch is when the swap meet opens up. But you got to watch out for DeeDee."

"Oh, I hear you," said Cat. "Give a shit head just a little power."

Donnie laughed. "You're all right, Kitty Cat. Anyways," she looked over at me, still balls out, "didn't you need to pee or something?"

I actually desperately needed to pee by this point. "Is it crazy, ladies, to ask for like thirty seconds of privacy?" I pleaded.