Towards the first night of Garrick and Marvin’s time as her slave, Liza
retired to her bed fully naked. She had one candle lit by her night table and
another on a small shelf on the opposite side, their cozy lights flickering
weakly.
Liza breathed out deeply. “Slaves, you know the routine. This huge body
you see is tending to all our needs, providing for us all. Thank me. Relieve my
body of all its tension.”
“Yes, Mommy!” Liza lay on her back, sprawled out in a neutral position,
and the slaves spread out along the outline of her enormous body and got to
work. Their arms hugging and massaging, their mouths kissing, they spread their
prickling tugs over her skin. Garrick and Martin did not. They weren’t adamant
in their resistance, but they didn’t notice any downside either. So they
remained where they were, relaxing.
“Slave Six and Seven,” Liza called out. “Mommy did tell you of
disciplinary measures, did she not? I am kind, but strict when necessary.”
“What do these disciplinary measures entail?” Garrick asked. The
straightforward nature of his question, the lack of using her demanded title,
it compounded to an annoyance that made Liza snap her finger, so the slaves
stepped back from her body. She got out of the bed.
“I believe only a demonstration can do the job at this point.”
“No, wait,” Martin said. “Just tell us, uh, Mommy.”
Liza scuffled through drawer, presenting her enormous ass as she bent
over. She got a length of thread, and as she sorted it straight, had her eyes
at a point on the wall above the head of her bed. Garrick found the focus of
her stare, a set of blunt hooks on the wall. He already imagined the numerous
positions they could end up in, and none of them were pleasing.
A few minutes later, tied up in their new bindings, Garrick and Martin
hung suspended from the hooks. The ropes wound around their forearms, over the
hardgum, somewhat kind in its dispersing of weight, but nonetheless leaving
them terribly uncomfortable. There was a tiny projection underneath their feet
to kick onto, though it was a few inches long, not enough to properly put their
heels and stand on.
Liza patted her hands together. “The misbehaving slaves spend the night
there. The good slaves get to sleep on Mommy’s bed. I hope tomorrow looks
different for the two of you, or else the night won’t.” Liza crawled back onto
her bed. “I’m sorry, Slaves. Mommy hasn’t given you all her time today, but you
know how it’s like when we have new members.”
“We understand, Mommy.”
“But Mommy will reward you now.” She rotated her palms upward,
presenting herself. “Worship Mommy’s body to your heart’s content.”
They happily skipped away, dispersing across her body, like leeches they
picked a spot on her body where their mouths remained. They remained local, two
of them staying near her thighs, two by her feet, and one up at her breast.
Garrick and Marvin could hear the wet pops from their mouths releasing a strong
suck on her toes, breast, thighs, and any other chunk of the firm flesh
available to them. There was a lot to choose from.
“Aaaah,” Liza moaned, a gentle and protracted one. She settled back on
her pillow, surrendering. “The perfect end to a day. You know the reward. Once
Mommy is asleep, you may touch yourselves. Until then, there is a job to do.”
Garrick and Marvin had to listen to it all. If they had been left like
this but in another room, the punishment would lose its bite. Now the contrast
wasn’t just between their discomfort and the comfort of a bed, it was the
contrast between their cold, bare loneliness, and the warm love the rest of
them were sharing on the bed. As they hung and the minutes passed, they began
to cherish the chance to cuddle up against her thigh, even recalling fondly
when they’d been underneath her foot by the lake and she jerked them off.
The two couldn’t fall asleep. Even if they found a half-decent foothold
against the ledge and scored a slight angle on which they reclined their backs
against the wall, they couldn’t block out the noise of their worship, the sound
of her moans, a constant reminder of what they didn’t have.
Eventually, the moans were noticeably absent, the sound of their mouths
against her flesh the only thing left. Liza’s head was sideways against the
pillow, limp and fast asleep. The slaves indulged in their promised reward.
Slave Two sucked on her big toe while thrusting his manhood into her foot,
needing no more than a few seconds to cum. Slave One spent his ejaculation on
her other foot, while Slave Three and Four had theirs on her breast. Slave Five,
Harry, buried his face between her pussy and stroked himself into a swift
ejaculation. All five of them fell asleep afterward. Only then could Garrick
and Martin have their own try at sleeping, though it was difficult, the
bindings pulling at their shoulders and wrists, their feet constantly losing
grip and sent into a faint dangle, having to find the ledge again. Their sleep
was fractured, dozing off for half an hour or so before coming to again,
needing another half hour to return to sleep.
“Hey, you awake?” Martin whispered.
“Yeah.” The candles had died down, the moonlight radiant and revealing
the silhouette of the curtains. “Where the fuck have we ended up?”
“I don’t know.” Martin shimmied into a slightly more manageable
position. “Can’t imagine we were planning to scavenge Eron. One horny giant
pales in comparison to the dangers there, yet here we are. I told Harry, and he
said this might have been a blessing in disguise. Saved us from an expedition
that could have ended us.”
“How much better is this?”
“We’re not dead, nor are we in any danger. She’s not looking to kill us,
she’s just a nymphomaniac.”
“Just?” Garrick snorted. “Those are Harry’s words. He might be the most
reasonable of the bunch, but that’s a low standard. I was expecting to bring him
over to reason, and I still mean to, but he’s closer to Slave One to Four than
he is to us.”
“Sure. But listen, I’m not some prisoner of war who’s fervently
patriotic here. There is no test of loyalty. I just want to sleep on a bed, so
I’m doing what she wants tomorrow to get that.”
“You’re going to call her Mommy?”
“Why do you say it like that? It’s not that deep, Garrick. I’m not fine
with our situation, and I’ll throw myself at any chance to escape. But for now,
we’re locked in our hardgum, she’s a lot bigger than us, there’s not much to
do. The solution won’t come in a day.”
“Whatever.” Garrick shifted his shoulders, establishing an angle against
the wall. “Just help me look for a strong force that could break the hardgum.
If we can get them dry and hard, we can crack them apart.”
“I’ll keep my eyes open.” Martin didn’t sound optimistic, but Garrick
had to settle for that.
“Man, imagine the dreams we had, of returning from Eron with fortune.”
“Don’t remind me,” Martin said. “I thought I’d make my mother proud for
once.”
“I wanted to be the man my father tried to make me, one who provides.
Instead, I’m a goddamn foot slave.” Both of them exchanged a short laugh.
Naturally, none of them said any more, drifting off towards sleep, or more
correctly that half-awake state where they dozed in and out of consciousness or
sometimes wondered if they had spent the last half hour asleep or not. Their
sleep was so fractured they tracked the progression of sunrise upon the
curtains, from silvery moonlight to the glow of dawn, and they fell into their
deepest sleep near dawn.
“Morning, my slaves.” They expected Liza to be on her bed, calling to
everyone. But she stood, eyes on Garrick and Martin hanging from the walls.
None of the other slaves were present, perhaps in another room. The bed had a
proper dark stain in the lower half, and Liza had put on a green dress,
altogether revealing that Garrick and Martin had slept through the morning.
“How was your night?”
“Terrible,” Garrick croaked, his neck and shoulders aching.
“Mommy doesn’t want to punish you. But if you’re misbehaving and not
listening, it must come to this. Right?”
“Right…”
“How about this, I’ll let you boys down and give you another couple of
hours on the bed, let you sleep to noon. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course.”
Martin was quick to add, “Yes, Mommy.”
The word made her nod to herself with an impressed smile. “Disciplining
works wonders, it seems.” Liza reached forward and pinched their ropes, freeing
them from the hooks. Not until they touched the wooden floor did their
shoulders groan in relief, both falling to their knees gratefully.
However, and not to any surprise, ten graceful toes rose and fell
rhythmically ahead of them, playing a tune against the wooden floor. “Come and
kiss Mommy’s toes, and ask for forgiveness. Then you get another couple of
hours on the bed. Or, Mommy could put you back up to hang on the wall.”
Martin staggered forward immediately, and Garrick had his moment of
hesitation. But no, in that moment, a soft surface to lay upon was all he
wanted. Martin dipped his head into the gap between her third and second toe, letting
loose a row of kisses. “We’re sorry, Mommy.”
Garrick got the big toe of her other foot, puckering his lips and giving
that creamy flesh his obedience. “We won’t do it again.” With a delay, he
added, “Mommy.”
Liza looked proudly at her work. Even though Garrick did it all with his
head still in the game, his mind sharp and on the lookout for any way out, he
couldn’t help but wonder how he behaved now as opposed to yesterday. In a
single day, he’d travelled far across the spectrum, and he wondered if all the
other slaves had started this way as well.