Liza let them resume kneading the lotion into her body, though she wanted it to be done efficiently.

”Do not indulge too much,” Liza said. “A few kisses here-and-there, of course, but get it done.”

“Yes, Mommy!” She lay down on her blanket once again, on her back, and they spread across her. One for every foot and breast, and two along her inner legs, they were six in total now. No one mentioned Harry’s absence. Though Garrick, situated by her right thigh, gave Martin a glance down by her left foot. He indicated towards Liza’s crotch at the end of her legs. The enlarged lips and bulge suggested well where their friend had ended up. Though it was the lack of attention that Liza gave any of it which worried them. The cryptic strictness she’d left them with hadn’t been addressed.

Liza put the dabs of lotion over her body anew. “I need you to save yourselves. A customer is coming tomorrow, and not just any, but a good friend. You will give her your best efforts.”

“We will!”

The flesh of her thigh seemed endless before Garrick. Whenever he pushed the folds of her firm groin muscles, they wobbled back in place. He put his lips to the expanse of packed skin every now and then, as was expected, though he could rightfully cut down on the worship under the instruction she’d given them. Martin likewise didn’t spare her sole and toes much of his loving attention, keeping themselves to the baker’s diligent kneading, treating it like nothing but work. For the other slaves it was a testing trial. Slave Two, who had the thigh opposite of Garrick’s let his kisses linger. Kissing and licking her thigh, his manhood erect, the handwork was like the sobering slap bringing him back when he lost himself in her skin. He’d shake his head, return to the work, but be unavoidably seduced as he slipped that one last kiss in, the infamous last one in the cycle of addiction which brought his mouth back for more. Garrick wasn’t sure why he felt sorry for him. They had expressed quite clearly how they were here of their own free will. Yet Garrick couldn’t help but see them as victims, as one day having been taken like Garrick and Martin were, programmed to enjoy this so slavishly. Garrick imagined that if they ever escaped from here, the slaves had a life to return to as well.

They continued through the afternoon, the sound of the waterfall crashing in the distance, the slimy strokes of their lotioned hands painting her body in a glossy sheet, it was all they heard for a while. Occasionally, a low gasp would slip out of Liza’s lips, a few convulsions taking her abdomen. Garrick noted the tension in her pelvic muscles, the movement around her pussy. Harry was being squeezed inside the oven that was her pussy. If Garrick listened closely, he could narrowly hear his friend’s grunts. This had to be a punishment, the conclusion to her quiet anger.

That strangely filled Garrick with some hope. Provoking her was the necessary part to his plan, the one of letting the hardgum dry so it would break to a strong force, one he hoped would come from her violence. The plan was far-fetched, showed little signs of being realistic, but Garrick had little else. It didn’t have the successive progress that an escape tunnel would have, where one would dig and dig and see every yard grow. Cracking the hardgum would happen in an instant, so Garrick persisted.

After they’d rubbed the lotion over her, they ate their dinner next. While the slaves ate away at her feet, Garrick saw her take chunks of food and plop them in between her legs. He wasn’t even allowed out to eat. Garrick wasn’t sure when they’d see Harry again.

***

It was night in Liza’s bed, everyone had fallen asleep. Or Garrick at least assumed so from the last half hour of stillness. He tread on the bed lightly, down the avenue between her legs. He could smell the nearness of her womanhood. For a stupid moment Garrick considered knocking on it or reaching inside to get Harry’s attention, realizing how he’d just be waking her. Instead, he whispered, “Hey, Harry. You there?”

There was no response, and Garrick had to attune his calls to get Harry’s attention yet not be too loud.

At last, he heard a murmur from within. “What?”

“Hey, what’s going on? What happened? What did she say?” Garrick dared to put his head closer, his cheeks against the warm, sweet-smelling mouth of her pussy. They were wet. He eased his head through its entry with the caution one threads a needle. The heat was oppressive, baking his head. Garrick repeated his questions in there.

“She’s angry,” Harry muttered. He’d been asleep. “She’s not satisfied with me. I’ve been here for a while, and I’m not like the others. Her patience has its limits. And I think it’s been made worse since you two got here.”

“She got angry? That sounds good, maybe she’ll stomp—”

“Garrick, just listen to yourself. That plan is ridiculous. It won’t happen. Drop it. There’s no point. She’s not stupid, and she’s had enough.”

“Hey, don’t be like that.” Garrick had to check himself to keep his voice down. “What’s wrong?”

“Forget it.”

“You’ve been through so much, that’s evidence of how well you’ve persisted.”

“It’s evidence of how nothing’s going to change. Go to sleep, before she wakes up and we’re both in trouble.”

“What did she do to you, huh?”

Harry didn’t respond.

“Hey, say something.” He didn’t, and Garrick had to back out, pulling his head out with a wet slurp. Films of moisture had gathered over his hair and head, using the sheets to scrub it off.

A large hand hovered over her abdomen. Garrick sighed in relief as the hand, with a casual attitude, went to her pussy and took care of the itch they’d caused. Considering Harry was now perpetually inside her, she was likely used to movement thereat, and this hadn’t raised her suspicions. Or she was too sleepy to care. However, her index and middle finger did linger, rubbing a few lazy circles over the clit.

Liza had an airy gasp and grumbled something, the sounds so low they would be imperceivable if the silence of the night hadn’t surrounded them.

Back at her feet, Martin asked what the report was. Garrick told him.

“You can’t blame him,” Martin said. “He’s been here longer than us.”

“Something’s changed, she’d usually punish by tying them on the hooks on the wall, like she did with us.”

“I think that’s to get them to obey and do what she wants. But she also wants us to love doing it, to enjoy licking her. I think she’s realizing that Harry’s been here for a long time, and it’s still not there as it is with the others, so she doesn’t know what to do with him. The fact that we’re also here makes it worse.”

“Whatever’s going on, she’s irritated, and we’ll need to use that.” Garrick tapped his forearms together lightly, the hardgum meeting for a slight click. “We’ve seen a lot of sun, but there hasn’t been much moisture since we got out of the lake. They’re decently hard.”

“I shall pray for you, for us. They mentioned something about a customer coming tomorrow.”

Garrick lay down, staring into the dark roof. “Ah, I forgot about that. A customer… I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Me neither. Let’s get some sleep. Whatever it means, I don’t think we’ll be having an easy time.”