So we had a little mishap with the publish date on Chapter 9. My generous and abused proof-reader recommended posting Chapter 10 ASAP. He got it back so we could send it out, hopefully on the schedule I promised.
Many thanks to Steve150177 for his dedication removing my typos and mis-speaks. His hard work makes the read so much smoother.
English is italicized when it occurs.
Comments are welcome of any variety. Feel free to let me know what you think.
Thanks and enjoy! DW
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The new men put me on a transport pad and it zipped toward the Keepers. They didn't speak to me on the transport pad. I followed them off and they walked me into the Keepers compound.
The rest of the morning passed in a daze. My friends didn't desert me and sat with me. I vomited once and the Keepers fed me the root. It felt like I was in shock.
At lunch I realized I had no idea what my owner's mark looked like. I asked the Keepers where I was supposed to be and one of them showed me. Kneeling on the mark, I felt like a traitor.
I warily watched the dark haired man that came to feed me. He looked terrifying. I couldn't read any kindness in his eyes. The man fed me all that was in the bowl and left without saying a word.
As usual we went to the beach after lunch. The Keepers automatically stripped me, since I usually swam. That was when I realized I still had my old owner's mark on my stomach. I sat in the shallow water and started to pull the hair out one at a time.
The Keepers stopped me from proceeding with that. They took me back to the room in the compound and strapped me to the wall. Self harm was looked on as fighting at the Keepers. I was not permitted to harm myself.
Strapped to the wall I considered my life. I had promised myself I would make the best of this. Sure this new turn was bad, but I only had two options. I still didn't want to die. Time for mourning was over, I decided, I would make the best of this.
When the men came and got me, they didn't ask why I was strapped to the wall. They took me back to their home, which was on the fourth floor. They fed me dinner and walked me down to the pool.
Oddly, they didn't undress me. They left me to sit in their alcove while they cleaned themselves. In my head I tried to think of all the reasons I liked these new colors.
Suddenly it struck me I had never had trouble with my other owner's colors. I hadn't really understood them at that point, though. I had just accepted they enjoyed those shades. They liked them, so I liked them. It would be better if I thought about it the same way now.
The men finished their bath and took me upstairs. The men fed me a meal and then we went into the sitting room. All of them were staring at me and it unnerved me.
"Slave, how did the slavers catch you?" one of them asked.
The man asking the questions had long dark hair that flowed around his shoulders.
"I was coming home from shopping-" I started to say and he interrupted me.
"You shopped at home?"
"Yes, Master," I answered.
"Where did you shop?" he asked leaning toward me.
They wanted every detail of the night of my capture. I told them about the mini mart and wooded area where the men used to sit and drink. They heard about the bright light and the auction. They were interested right up until I started to talk about the auction. They didn't care what had happened after the slavers got me.
Soon, they wanted to know about the motel. I had to tell them what it was and what I did there. The men were confused because I lived in a place for transients. I had to explain to them about the cost of apartments. They seemed to understand working for a living, but they still could not comprehend living somewhere meant for travelers.
I was made to describe the room I lived in. Describing television took forever. Luckily, they had running water here, so that was much shorter discussion. They wanted to know about the room down to the linens on the bed, so the conversation took a very long time.
Finally, I sat staring numbly at them. I hadn't slept in two days and I was barely awake. If they wanted me to perform my purpose here, I wasn't sure I would stay up for it. Instead, they just undressed me and put me to bed.
I missed my old owners and I feared these new men, but I was so tired. Laying beneath the green blankets I fell quickly to sleep. I dreamed of Master Damien and his Brothers all night long.
The next morning one of the men woke me. I asked him his name and he told me to call him and all his Brothers 'Master'. Evidently, I would not be talking to them much. The man that woke me took me to the shower and cleaned me completely.
My first shower with this new Master was practical. The man used the sponge to clean most of my body. When it came to the sensitive bits between my legs he used his fingers. I flinched and backed away inadvertently. This new Master just grabbed my hip and held me still as he cleaned every nook and fold. He was almost disinterested in the task.
I dreaded the plug. It was so degrading to be cleaned and prepared that way. I had no control over such a personal thing. It was awful.
This new Masters didn't really seem bothered either way. He did each step with clinical detachment. Once they were done he stood me up and moved right to the silky rub.
When Master Evan had rubbed me with the purple goo, he always lingered on the places I liked. It was a morning massage as much as a skin treatment. This new man made no such alterations. It was rubbed in and then he was done.
"Come," he ordered walking out of the bathing room, "it is time to eat, slave."
At breakfast the man across from me held up his bowl and asked me what I called it in my first language. I told him and he repeated the word until he could say it. In between bites, I was instructed to teach them the names of all the things around us. It was a strange way to spend the morning meal, but it became my norm.
Time dragged on and it soon became obvious these men did not want a sex slave. They cleaned me and kept the annoying thing in my bottom, but otherwise did not touch me. I was glad, but I couldn't help but find it odd.
The first few days I had dreaded going back to my new owners' apartment at night. I waited for them to descend on my body the way Master Damien and his Brothers had. At some point I was certain they would use me. It never happened.
These men had no interest in my physical self, other than it was cleaned and fed. They made me tell them about Earth. These Masters wanted information.
Everyday some aspect of life on Earth was explored. They made me relive moments from the most mundane to the most exciting. I spent seven day cycles explaining the inside of a supermarket. It was like they wanted to be know my planet inside out.
For the first time in months I had to speak English. They ordered me to teach them the entire language. I was threatened that if they spoke it to another Earth slave and I had lied, they would have me whipped. I did the best I could.
When I wasn't teaching my new owners, they acted like I wasn't present. If they weren't engaging in their Earth hobby, they had plenty to keep them busy. They were always doing something. Often I found myself sitting and watching their family like I was merely a piece of the furniture. I was useful when they wanted me to be and nonexistent when they had better things to do.
When they weren't talking to me, I was not to interrupt them. I learned that very quickly. Their conversations with one another were complicated and I was chastised if I interjected. The truth, I soon realized, was they only really enjoyed talking with one another.
My owners did things in their spare time like take apart transport pads in the sitting area. They enjoyed difficult time consuming tasks and I was never asked to participate. Unless they were asking about Earth, they didn't speak to me. For me, it was a lonely existence.
At home there wasn't ever a visiting slave to speak to. Unlike Master Damien and his Brothers, who spoke to almost everyone, these new men had few friends in the compound. Warriors would sometimes come by to ask a question, but they never stayed long. My owners seemed to talk down to almost everyone and most other men seemed glad to leave their presence.
Sometimes, as the jovial men walked off discussing the chuke game they were late to, I wanted to go with them. I missed walking around the compound with my owners and watching them play. Actually, I missed doing almost everything.
Since I wasn't really expected to do anything most of the time, I picked up a hobby. With my owner's permission Rose taught me to sew and knit. My skills quickly equalled hers, because I had limitless time to practice.
The men actually seemed happy I was doing something and bought limited supplies for me. They liked it when I sewed things with complicated designs. When I was able to stitch their symbol onto their shirts they were ecstatic. It was the first and only time I ever really pleased them.
Most of the time, I was an annoyance to my owners. Their questions were so complicated. I frequently could not adequately answer them, so they punished me by making me sleep in the little box in the wall. Eventually, they figured out I just didn't know how everything worked on my home world.
My owners seemed disappointed to have purchased such a stupid slave, but they did not sell me. However, they barely acknowledge they owned me. I had one outfit they put me in every day. They didn't even name me. I was just 'slave'. My Masters did the absolute minimum to care for me.
They did make sure all my needs were met, though. I was fed and housed. Reminding myself of how the life of a slave should work, I focused on being grateful. Really there was only one thing the men did that was unpleasant for me.
My new Masters plucked the hair on my stomach to remove my old Master's mark. They worked on it and kept it plucked daily. Secretly, I was glad they didn't have it removed by the jelly creatures. Even after they were done, I could still feel my first Master's insignia and that made me happy.
I often wondered what Master Damien had told these men to make them buy me. It was such a strange arrangement. Slaves here were used for sex, not information. We had names and were covered in ornamentation. Finally I had the nerve to speak to my friends about it.
It took a lot of determination for me to face Rose and Fuji with my questions. I was happy my new owners never touched me, but I felt their lack of interest in me made me weird. Shrugging off the shame of being the only sex slave in the compound not used for sex, I approached my friends.
"They don't use me," I blurted out staring at the sand one afternoon.
Rose, Fuji, and I were resting beneath a large shade tree. The breeze blew and I played absently with the edge of a large root.
