The Lilac Society Ch 04

The entire drive back to campus, I was a nervous wreck. I felt a pit deep inside my stomach as I shivered every so often in anticipation. I was excited. I was also scared.

The best part of the drive was noticing that the marks on my ass no longer hurt, not much anyway, while I was sitting. They had healed gradually after Lauren and her friend removed the stitches. Faint marks remained, of course. But over the course of the summer, the pain of sitting had gradually diminished. I almost hadn't realized, over the past several weeks, how I could only feel a slight twinge now when I was sitting on a hard surface. The memory of that day, however, was etched into my brain. The most harrowing experience of my life now felt like a vague warning hanging over me at all hours. I vowed to be on my best behavior for Lauren.

Thinking again of Lauren, I sighed. I pictured her face, sweet but serious, her cute body, short stature, intimidating posture. I wondered how long it would be until I was allowed to lie before her again and kiss her feet. Gradually, I felt the pressure of my cock swelling, pressing painfully against its silicone enclosure. I took a deep breath. Lauren's gift to me, the chastity device I'd worn since I last saw her, had no doubt saved me. God, I missed Lauren. Nearly two and a half months apart was far too long. I wanted so badly to throw myself at her feet, to follow her orders, to experience her minute-by-minute guidance. To not only know that she owned me, but to actually feel it - to experience completely her ownership of me.

I was nervous, too. Scared. I now knew the stakes. Disobedience meant severe punishment. I inhaled deeply, exhaled through pursed lips, promised myself again that I'd always monitor my behavior. As fearful as I felt, however, I couldn't wait to get back. I needed to get back to serving Lauren. It was primal, the drive to devote my entire existence to her.

Nearing campus, I pulled up the address again on my phone. In one of her infrequent texts, Lauren had informed me that as soon as I arrived again at school, I'd be meeting her at her new apartment, and helping her move in. I was to proceed directly to the address, no stopping anywhere first. I planned to move my things in to my own new apartment tonight, whenever Lauren was finished with me. I didn't have time to think of it, as I realized I was only a few blocks away. Turning onto Deerfield Street, I proceeded slowly, looking for the building. My hands turned sweaty as I saw it, a mid-sized house, of which Lauren was renting part of the upstairs. I noticed her car parked in front of it. Deep breaths as I parked behind her. She was here; my owner was nearby, and I knew my summer break from serving her was over.

I cradled my phone in my wet palm, then took another deep breath. As instructed, I sent Lauren a text.

"I'm here, Lauren."

Sent. A nervous moment later, the response. "Be right down."

Opening the car door, I stretched, stood, walked over to the sidewalk, and waited. Rubbing my hands on my shirt to dry them, I exhaled, hard. The feeling of being directly under Lauren's control started to return. It was imminent. I'd forgotten just how intimidating that feeling could be. Finally, the front door opened, and Lauren strode out toward me, expressionless.

She was beautiful as ever. Now nineteen years old, the sight of her brought me back to a state of helpless surrender. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, the first time I'd ever seen it that way, and looked to be just slightly longer than it had been last Spring. She wore black yoga pants, another new look, and a white sleeveless top. Her bare feet were in flip-flops, and I choked a little, remembering the kisses I'd given her foot, anticipating more to come. As she approached me, her serious look melted, just a little, into a closed-mouth smile.

"Hello again, slave!"

I stood awkwardly, hands behind my back, gaze lowered.

"Hello, Lauren."

"Ready to serve me?" She spoke with a little smirk.

"Yes, Lauren, I am. I'm so excited to be back to serve you."

"Good BOY! It won't be as easy this time as last year, though."

"I understand, Lauren." I wasn't sure I actually did, though.

Lauren, who was holding her keys in her hand, clicked her car unlocked, and walked toward it. She motioned for me to open the rear hatch. I opened it, and looked at all her things packed carefully inside.

"Start with the suitcase. The big one. Carry it up CAREFULLY."

"Yes, Lauren."

Pulling the suitcase out of the car, I carried it as carefully as I could down the walk, following behind Lauren. This felt familiar. Oh god, she looked so good, and hearing her carefree bossy voice order me around brought me right back to every memory of last spring, and my cock was pressing hard against its enclosure, as I shrugged off a shiver and controlled my breath. Inside the front door, I followed Lauren up the flight of stairs, carefully lifting the bag up each step, looking down at Lauren's feet ahead of me the whole time. Thirteen steps up, and we reached the landing outside the door to Apartment 3, where Lauren put her hand on my chest and stopped me.

"Listen, slave. Closely. You're not going to step foot in my apartment with your shoes on, or even socks on. Not one step. Anytime your slave self steps into my apartment, it's only going to be with your bare feet. Barefoot, walking softly. Is that clear?"

Lauren's pale blue eyes met mine, holding my gaze intently. It had been too long. Being spoken to like this, hearing Lauren talk down to me, giving me strict orders, it made me wince, made my insides turn over, felt somehow off. I noticed my voice cracking as I responded, barely above a whisper.

"Yes, Lauren. I understand, Lauren."

"What was that?"

I spoke louder, more clearly. I hoped no one could hear me in any of these apartments.

"Yes, Lauren! I understand, Lauren."

"So take off your shoes and socks right now. On the landing. Socks go in your shoes, and AFTER you walk inside barefoot, you place them on the towel beside the door."

"Yes, Lauren." I knelt, untied each shoe, took each off, peeled off each sock, placed them inside the shoes, and stood. Lauren had opened the door, and I followed her inside. There was indeed an old brown towel beside the door, on which I placed my shoes. Lauren walked into the main room, clopping in her flip-flops as I followed barefoot, trying to figure out what it meant to step softly.

"So the movers already have the furniture arranged. You're going to bring everything else up. After you unload my car, I'll tell you where everything goes. Clear?"

"Yes, Lauren."

Down the stairs. Along the walk, concrete rough against my bare feet, to Lauren's car, retrieving a laundry basket full of supplies. Up the stairs, into Lauren's apartment, and setting it down. Again I made the barefoot trip to the car for a box of pots and pans. And again, feeling self-conscious, again obeying Laren so publicly, I swallowed and took a deep breath. This felt so right, but it was hard to adjust. I winced as a couple watched me carrying a heavy box barefoot across the concrete walk. Lauren had packed well. I didn't realize so much could fit into her little car. Finally, I brought up the last box, and placed it carefully on the floor.

"Now the fun starts!" With that, Lauren ordered me to carry the suitcase and the tub full of clothes into her room. Item by item, I was ordered to carefully re-fold each piece of her clothing, then place it in whichever droor, or on whichever hanger, she indicated. Every item of clothing, that is, except her bras and underwear. I wasn't allowed to touch those. I tensed, remembering that very first day serving Lauren, before I even knew that I was her slave, folding her laundry, all of her clothes except her intimate wear. I sighed, deeply.

I made Lauren's bed. I put her towels away. I put every pot, pan, and skillet where she told me to. Every utensil went in its place. Every decoration went where Lauren decided, then was moved when Lauren changed her mind. Most of the afternoon I served her, obeying every detailed command. Finally, the apartment was in order.

"Alright slave, it's time I look you over." We were in the main room, in front of the couch and coffee table as Lauren motioned me to face her. "Strip and kneel. Now."

"Yes, Lauren."

I removed each item of clothing, folding as I went. After I took off my boxers I shivered, again naked in front of Lauren, with the exception of the chastity device she had put on me at the end of the spring. With another deep breath, I knelt on the worn, faded hardwood, looking up at Lauren's face directly in front of mine.

"You need to work on kneeling more gracefully. Don't plop."

I blushed. "Yes, Lauren. I'll practice, Lauren."

Lauren took my chin in her hand possessively, just as she had that day in her apartment, the day I'd kissed her foot. I felt like I was going to melt. I'd needed this. Lauren smiled, just slightly, looking into my eyes.

"Have you disobeyed me at all over the summer? Even once? Is there anything you need to tell me, slave?"

I took a deep breath. It was almost hard to speak. I took another.

"No, Lauren. I have not disobeyed you. I've followed every instruction you gave me for the summer."

"Are you certain? Don't you dare lie to me, slave."

I thought, then thought again. I knew the answer, but I was doubting myself. "Yes, Lauren. I'm certain. I've been obedient since the last time I saw you."

Lauren held my chin a little tighter and smiled, a genuine smile. "Good BOY!"

I felt relief at her smile. Lauren let go of my chin, stepped back and looked me over. She walked around my side, then behind me. I felt her linger behind my backside, then take a step closer. Then, I gasped at the feeling of Lauren's small hand on my ass. My cock immediately tried to jolt into an erection, but was stopped short by its cage. I felt Lauren's finger trace one of my scars, the mark she had left on me that day. She traced it gently. I heard her whisper, under her breath, "Oh, Chris..." Then, more clearly, "They're healing. They're healing nicely, slave."

I shuddered as Lauren let go of my butt, then let my eyes close for a few seconds as she continued her inspection. A whisper, Lauren's voice, made itself known in my ear. "Eyes open, slave."

"Yes, Lauren." Instinctively, I whispered my answer.

"What was that?"

"Yes, Lauren!" Louder now, remembering to be assertive in my submission. To not be embarrassed by it. To keep my eyes open and face it directly. Again in front of me, Lauren smiled.

"Alright, slave. I let you cheat your way through the summer. But now it's time to get this thing off of you." She paused, looked away, then looked at me directly again. "You understand the consequences for masturbating without permission, right? You know what's coming if you do."

I shuddered. "Yes, Lauren. I understand."

"Good. Let me just find this key..." Lauren walked to a small box on the coffee table, and rummaged around in it. I started to worry just a bit. Considering there was only one key to this cage on my cock, kept by Lauren, she seemed awfully casual about keeping track of it. "Wait! I know, I put it in the droor." Lauren walked to the kitchen. After another minute or two of moving things, she reappeared in front of me, a small key in her hand. I realized I'd been holding my breath.

Lauren took my cock cage in her hand, lifting it slightly. I flinched. The cage was solid, of course, and there was no chance Lauren's hand would actually touch my cock, but it still excited me. She held it for a few seconds, then fit the key into the little padlock holding it on. With a quick motion, Lauren removed the lock, and slid the tube off, exposing my cock to the open air and her gaze. Holy shit I felt naked. It was the kind of naked I'd forgotten about. Carefully, without touching my cock, Lauren unlatched the ring behind my balls that had held the tube in place for the last ten weeks. Oh my god this felt weird.

Lauren smirked. I was looking down at her short legs in their tight yoga pants, her cute little pale feet on the black foam of her flip-flops. I started feeling erect, and was surprised at the freedom of it, the feeling when my cock kept expanding rather than being blocked by a barrier. Oh my god, it felt like relief, but it scared me. I was well aware of the consequences of not controlling it.

Lauren, watching my growing erection carefully, walked away into the kitchen. A minute later she returned with a cup and a bowl. Carefully holding the bowl beneath my cock and my balls, she slowly poured cold water from the cup over them, catching it in the bowl. It felt a bit shocking. When she was finished, she poured the water from the bowl back into the cup, then again rinsed off my cock with the cold water. Then she did it again. After about ten pours, she was satisfied that I was clean.

"So Chris, did you lock your car?"

"Yes, Lauren. I still need to move my things into my apartment, Lauren."

"Not today. You can leave your car there on the street. But as soon as you're dry, we're going to the house."

"The house? What's the house, Lauren?"

She smirked. "You'll see."

Again, I felt that pit-of-my-stomach feeling of anticipation when I wasn't sure exactly what I was anticipating. The house? I'd had my plans for moving my things in sometime tonight. Of course, my plans didn't matter. I was trying to get used to the feeling of having my time arranged for me by Lauren. Last spring, it was so new and so exciting that I didn't really feel the restriction of it. And the times she had summoned me were seldom. I was already getting the feeling that Lauren would be demanding much more of my time this school year.

After about ten minutes, I was dry, and Lauren was ordering me to get dressed and hurry up. She told me to just carry my shoes and put them on in the car, while she drove. Once again, I experienced Lauren's speedy driving, taking us away from campus, away from town, off into the country somewhere. I had that just-been-kidnapped feeling, wondering where I was going and for how long. Looking over at Lauren, amazed at how beautiful she was, I again tried to remind myself that it didn't matter what I wanted. Serving Lauren was a privilege, and I was thankful for it.

Eventually, I had the distinct feeling I was being taken in the general direction of where we went on that awful day, when I'd been whipped. I started to feel panicked, wondering what was happening. Lauren noticed my sharp breathing.

"You ok, slave?"

"Lauren, are we- are we going to that place, that barn, where, you know..."

She smiled. "No, slave. Not today. You're not in trouble." Lauren gave me a warm, sympathetic look. "Somewhere close to there. The society owns a lot of property."

"The society, Lauren?"

"Yeah, well, you'll learn. Eventually."

I sensed this was one of those times I was supposed to just shut up. I waited, eagerly anticipating whatever this was, though I wondered if I should be so eager. Eventually, we turned into a long drive and climbed a wooded hill toward an opening. Around a bend, in the opening, was one of the largest houses I'd ever seen.

Brown brick. At least three floors. A wide central structure, fronted by double doors and a long, well-kept wooden porch. Two wings with gabled windows, accented by wood siding painted a peculiar light purple color. In front, the drive ended in a wide roundabout, a few cars on either side of it, but we didn't drive toward the front. We took a side-drive, and circled around back, passing the main rear double doors, but turning in at a much sparser concrete pad behind the house, next to a simple metal door. Lauren stopped, and put on the emergency brake.

"This is the slave entrance. Normally I'll park up front and make you walk around here, but today I'm showing you around. Get out."

"Um, yes Lauren."

I got out and followed Lauren onto the small concrete slab just outside the banged-up door. Two wooden benches flanked the door, a simple solid surface covering some sort of storage area. Lauren stopped and faced me.

"This is where we're going to spend the weekend. Every weekend. Understand?"

"Y-yes, Lauren." I wondered what exactly this place was, what was going on here.

"First, your clothes. Your outside-world clothes NEVER come inside this house. Ever. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Lauren."

"Well then, strip..." She rolled her eyes, as if I should have already known to be stripping. She watched me undress, and within a minute I was again naked before her. Lauren pulled up the hinged bench top on the left side of the door, took my clothes, and threw them in there. They found their place among other pants, shirts, shoes, and underwear that were already in the bin.

"Your outside-world clothes go in here. With all the other slaves' clothes. When you come out, try to get your own, but sometimes they get mixed up. If you don't end up with the same clothes, don't complain about it. You're a slave. They're not really yours anyway."

Lauren then walked to the other bench. Pulling the top up, she revealed a mess of white cloth, some of it folded, twisted and tied. Reaching beneath the pile, she pulled out a long strip of white cloth. About six, seven, maybe eight inches wide, it was a bit longer than a bedsheet.

"Let's get you dressed, slave."

Taking one end of the long cloth, Lauren draped it around my neck. She formed a loop several inches wider than my neck. Then she pulled one end of the cloth through, then tied it again, forming a knot. The cloth was thick white cotton, a bit stiff and scratchy. It hung down my body, not quite as wide as the distance between my nipples. I looked down at one nipple on either side of the cloth. Lauren's hands tugged at the knot, making sure it was secure.

"This loop needs to be big enough to go over your head when you get dressed or undressed." She pulled it up and over my head, then immediately slipped it back on. "Good. You never undo this knot, got it?"

"Yes, Lauren."

Next, she pulled up the end of the cloth that was lying on the ground, and tied a thick knot in the other end of it. "Don't ever undo this one either, got it?"

"I understand, Lauren."

Lauren's hands gripped the white cloth in front of my chest, then slid down each side of the fabric, stopping around my pelvis. Taking the entire cloth, she began twisting it into a tight bunch right in front of my pubic hair. Then she flattened the remaining cloth in front of me, and guided the edges around my cock and balls, before again twisting the fabric into a tight bunch just below them.

"These two twists, you'll have to make them each time you get dressed. They make a little pocket here to cover your penis."

Lauren stepped behind me. She pulled the fabric between my legs, then carefully worked the cloth just below the lower twist into my ass crack. Then she worked it in tighter, as deep as it would go. It spread my cheeks wide, and my crack felt stuffed. Then she took the knot at the end of the cloth, and fed it behind, up and over the cloth loop at the back of my neck. She then pulled the entire width of the fabric down, covering the center strip of my back, and some of my ass.

Again stepping in front of me, Lauren pulled what was left of the fabric between my legs again, and up to cover the little pouch for my cock. Finally, she pulled it up my front side, so that my chest and back were covered by two layers. Grabbing the knot, she pulled it under the loop hanging just below my neck, and flipped it over, then she made another circle around it, leaving the knot hanging against my chest.

"And, there! That's how you get dressed. This is your garment. It's the only thing you'll ever wear when you're here. Am I clear?"