In my previous life, I never considered myself to be promiscuous. People would describe me as 'free spirited', 'open minded', 'hard to tie down'. In hindsight, they were all too polite to tell me I was slutty.
But my past experience proved to be an advantage in this reality. I realise I haven't explained what the second part of our day consists of, so I'll try to describe it.
We spend the first half of our day in the torturous exercise tent. After this, we make our way to another similar sized marquee. This one is walled, and instead of the exercise equipment, for the first few days there were thick, woven rugs spaced out throughout the room - one for each of us. Coloured silks adorn the walls and roof, sweet smelling incense burns, and wind chimes large and small provide a gentle, tinkling soundtrack. Fresh fruit and jugs of water are laid out on low, wooden tables placed around the edge of the floor.
We aren't permitted to shower until the evening, but in one corner there is a small platform with raised edges, a grated floor and a tap. Large jugs can be filled with water to rinse off the sweat, and small vials of scented oil to freshen up. Although we weren't permitted to talk, the excitement at getting to use something
scented
, was palpable.
The other cause for excitement was that we were unchained, and allowed to move freely throughout the room. It was just to eat, and quench our thirst, or take it in turns to cool down, but it was the most freedom we'd had since arriving here. Once we had freshened up, we knew to be seated based on the order we are chained in - there are still rules, even without the chains.
As I watched the other girls enjoying the pleasures of freedom and comfort, I knew that this was going to come at a price. I stole a glance at Duchess, who was already seated, her dark skin glowing in the lamp light. The cynical look in her eyes reflected my thoughts.
Ume was taking her turn to cool off, and I jumped at the chance to properly admire her. She is so exquisite - porcelain skin, dark hair, pouty pink lips, perfect breasts... she caught me watching, and blushed. I dipped my eye, an apology of sorts, but when I looked up again her head was tipped back, long hair flowing down her arched back, pouring the water over herself slowly. When our eyes met again, we both blushed, but after that I knew it was ok to admire her freely.
I pulled my eyes away from her when I felt Hands watching me. Feeling bold, I let my eyes meet his. He looked faintly amused, and I knew he'd seen the whole thing. This was several days after he'd spanked me, and aside from our daily routine I'd had no additional dealings with him. I dropped my eyes quickly, wishing I hadn't been bold enough to look.
The other girls were settled on their rugs by now. Ume was one of the last to sit, and smiled sweetly at me when I sneaked a glance at her.
Usually we share space with at least one other handler and his group, but in here it was just our group. I haven't bothered to count how many of us there are exactly, although I know it's an even number - about 14. The intimacy of the space, the comfort, the
freedom
. If this was supposed to be a comfort to us, then why wasn't it introduced earlier? I had my suspicions, but all I could do was wait and see.
Shortly after, a woman, the first free woman we'd seen, took her place at the front of the tent. She was impossible not to notice, even if you weren't looking at first. It wasn't just her beauty - curves, amber eyes and glowing, caramel skin draped with jade silk and gold. Her presence, charisma, whatever you want to call it, seeped out of her pores and filled the room. She was impossible to ignore, even without the click of her fingers.
She was there to teach us yoga - breathing, simple poses, and then more complex as the afternoon wore on. Despite my aching joints after the morning's exercise hell, this was more comfortable for me as I'm naturally quite flexible. I forgot my reservations, focused on my breathing, and truly relaxed. The only thing to disturb my high was our Mistress patting the top of my head and chirping something I didn't understand. I looked to Hands for how I should respond,
"She says you're a good girl, little slave."
I dipped my head. "Thank you, Mistress."
I was not the only girl to receive praise of course - Duchess' grace made her stand out from the beginning. But I can't tell how good it felt being praised like that.
'Good girl.'
In my previous life, it was something that had only been said to me when I'd scribbled in my colouring book with crayons. But it took on a whole new meaning here - it made me
glow.
The incense, the heat, and the glow that only exercise can give you, left me with on a high for the rest of the evening. Once it was time to shower, I realised cooling off was exactly what I needed, but it was not to be. We followed our usual routine, but when we reached the showers, Hands stopped us, and unleashed Ume. He gave her a quick instruction in what I assume was Japanese, and pushed her towards me.
"Her shower is broken. Make room, slut."
Ume's fearful eyes were all I needed to make room for her, but this was not how I'd imagined it. This was so on brand for the type of man that he is - trivialising female intimacy as just another way to satisfy himself. There really was no room to move without touching, let alone wash ourselves.
"Hurry, slave. Quicker if you wash her."
Hands sounded like he was enjoying himself, the pig. But I had to obey - I didn't want either of us to be punished for my defiance.
When I reached for the soap, I caught Ume's eye, and I could see she'd understood. I kept my eyes down praying that my expression was unreadable as I gently soaped over her breasts, trying to ignore the fact that her nipples were hard. As I made my way down her body, biting my lip hard as I reached her hips, I couldn't help but delight in running my fingers over the delicate flower inked there.
Her audible gasp, and the jeers of the handlers brought my back to my senses. Blushing furiously, I ran my soapy hands over her ass, then down to her thighs and between her legs.
My face was on fire by the time I straightened up, and then I just about burst into flames when I realised she would now have to do the same for me. My eyes always give me away, so I clamped them shut, although in hindsight this may have been a mistake. My focus was clearer for other things, like how good her fingers felt as they washed around the leather collar on my neck.
Or how tiny her hands felt against my tits, and how my knees felt like they were going to give out when she ran her palms over my nipples.
How I had to resist reaching out and grabbing her hair once she was level with my stomach, so I could pull her closer.
Or finally, how I almost jumped out of my skin when her fingers brushed between my thighs and against my clit as she washed me.
I knew I couldn't keep my eyes shut any longer as I felt her straighten up. I was burning with anger, embarrassment and desire, but all I could do was give her an awkward nod, then plunge my head under the water in a last, desperate attempt to cool myself down.
