This is the long-awaited (by those who were waiting for it) continuation of 'Fun With Slaves'. Sorry it took so long.
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Darreen and Shayla were nervous. They would never have admitted it, especially to each other, but they were. Today was a big day, the culmination of years of work and planning. If all went well, they would be allowed to marry the men in their lives, the one they had spent so long enslaving and training. But if things went badly, it would be back to the drawing board, looking for new males to capture.
Today was the day their mothers would give their approval. Or not.
The girls looked each other up and down. They were standing in Shayla's bedroom. Shayla was dressed in a tangerine tank top, skintight black jeans, and black ankle-high boots. Darreen was dressed identically except for the colours. Her top was dark blue, her jeans were white, and her boots were tan. Their dark blonde hair shone in cascades down their backs. Their bright red nails were perfectly manicured. Their makeup was immaculate.
"How do I look?" Shayla asked.
"Like a Goddess," came Darreen's reply. "Me?"
"Aphrodite on Earth." The girls grinned for a second, but soon became serious. They both knew their own appearances weren't the important thing. They turned to their men.
The men looked very much like helpless captured slaves, which is exactly what they were. They were naked apart from restraints which consisted of handcuffs pulled up their backs by strong chains connected to thick leather collars, shackles on their ankles with short chains which would allow them to walk but not run, big red ballgags, chastity cages which were clicked into place but not locked, and scrotum collars attached to chain leashes. Their beards had been neatly trimmed and shaved at the sides, as had their pubic hair. Their fingernails and toenails had been manicured. They had been given a light touch of self-tanning lotion to give their normally pale bodies a hint of colour. They had not been allowed to drink anything for twelve hours, to make them slightly dehydrated and hence give them better muscle tone.
There was nothing else the girls could think to do.
Now was the moment of truth. The girls looked back at each other.
"Ready?" asked Darreen?
"As I'll ever be," Shayla replied.
Shayla took hold of the leash attached to Stephen's scrotum. Darreen grabbed the leash on Matthew. After a final nod to her fellow mistress, Shayla led the way out the door with her slave trotting behind.
Darreen made to follow, but her slave didn't move. He remained fixed to the spot, a look of fear in his eyes. Darreen gave the leash a sudden forceful tug. Her slave let out a muffled yelp and stumbled forward. She stood in front of him. He was noticably taller than her, but with her boots and him being barefoot, they were almost nose-to-nose. Her eyes blazed with fury.
"Don't you dare embarrass me today, slave," she hissed. She didn't make any specific threats. She rarely ever did. If she decided to punish him, she reserved the right to do whatever she felt necessary at the time. He knew he would be in a world of pain, and that was all he needed to know.
Darreen gave another tug on the leash and walked towards the door. This time, Matthew followed obediently. They caught up with Shayla and Stephen, who were waiting in the short hallway outside. All four continued into the living room, where the mistresses' mothers were waiting.
The mothers were sitting on the couch by a small coffee table, sipping sparkling white wine. They had made no special effort in their appearance, and were dressed in comfy blue jeans and white tee-shirts. As the girls and slaves entered, Shayla's mother (SM) was pouring herself a refill while Darreen's mother (DM) was relating an anecdote from her recent past.
"... so I told him that if it happened again, I'd have him circumcised. That ratcheted his obedience level right up, let me tell ... oh, here they are."
The girls were occasionally mistaken for twins, and their mothers showed a similar strong resemblance. They may have been carrying an extra kilogram or two compared to their daughters, and their hair wasn't as long, but they filled their jeans and tees in a way certain to evoke lustful thoughts in any non-gay man with a pulse.
Any man who wasn't currently preoccupied with dying from humiliation at being presented in chains, gag, and scrotum leash, that is.
From the girls' point of view, SM was on the right and DM on the left. Each girl stood in front of her mother with her slave on her left, leash in hand.
"So, this is them, are they?" asked SM. Grammar wasn't her strong point.
"Yes, Mum," said Shayla.
"The ones you want to marry?" asked DM.
"Yes, Mum," said Darreen.
The mothers sat back and gave their own daughter's prisoner a long appraising stare. Then they crossed stares and appraised the opposite captive.
"Give us a twirl," suggested SM eventually.
The girls held their ends of the leashes above head height, so the slaves could perform a pirouette. Obediently, although somewhat awkwardly due to their restraints, the boys slowly turned through three hundred and sixty degrees. Darreen's mum offered her assessment first.