Thanks for all the votes and comments. If Preston didn't see the answer before here it is: I find the comments very motivating and read all of them. Nothing is more encouraging at 5 AM than what you all write in response to me. (I like to write before work. It's probably normal somewhere!)
Thank you again, send any feedback - good, bad, or indifferent - It all gets read.
A very special thanks again to my excellent proofreader who tries to keep me consistent. Thank you, Steve150177, for hours spent looking for my mistakes. Trust me, the reading is much smoother when he's done with it.
Thank you for encouragement Wilby99, you know it's appreciated!
English is italicized when it appears.
Enjoy! DW
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It took time, but I got strong again. I think it took longer because I no longer swam. My fake Masters were quite clear that the mark on my stomach could not be exposed. They even bought a thicker panel for my front that further disguised it.
Instead of swimming I started walking the beach. The area we were allowed to roam, was quite large. I tried to run, but my large breasts made that uncomfortable. Instead I played games on the beach and paced the area every afternoon.
Forty seven days later, my cycle came again and my Masters did just what they said they would. They left me alone in their rooms. For the first time in forever I was left to my own devices.
When they came at lunch the first day, I think they were surprised I was still there. They fed me and left me for the afternoon. Grateful they had not locked me in the box, I would have done anything to make them happy. I picked up the apartment, made the bed, and did all the things I imagined the House Cleaners usually did.
The men were thrilled their area had been cleaned. They ordered me to clean every day I was left here alone. In a small closet I had never seen they showed me where the brushes and buckets were. That was what I could use to clean.
I was good at cleaning. At my Mom's house I'd been the only one who cared if dishes sat in the sink or if the floor looked nasty. The job of making the house livable had fallen to me. In the motel, it was my occupation. It was my job once again.
My owners realized I could save them money, as well as, make them money. They told the men they paid to clean up they no longer needed them. I would secretly be doing the cleaning.
The story my owners made up was quite believable. The cleaners had interfered with a delicate experiment, my owners wanted to do their own cleaning now. It was an oddity in the compound, but as a rule, my owners were an oddity. They only demanded that the supplies be brought to them once every eight days.
During the day I still went to the Keepers, but at night I was truly their slave. Once we were back in the apartment they stripped me of my one outfit and I was put to work. I scrubbed and cleaned the apartment top to bottom as they engaged in their research.
My temporary owners had carefully debated if I really needed to go to the Keepers at all. They could save that money entirely if I just stayed in their rooms. Lucky for me, they decided that would be too obvious. The other slave owners might notice if I disappeared altogether.
The men brought out the brown outfits early one morning and I squealed with delight. They found the sound annoying and told me never to make it again. The smile never left my face despite the scolding. We were going to see my Masters.
Their transport went faster than the other transports in the area. Several Warriors raced them as we headed to the mountains. These men had made the transport they owned far superior to anyone else's. I knew that it pleased them to win the little races, in their own way, they were very competitive.
I clasped and unclasped my hands waiting anxiously for the time I would get to see my owners, my friends, and my lovers. I wished I had a gift for them. If I'd thought about it I could have sewed their symbol onto a piece of cloth and given it to them. Quite quickly I rejected that idea, it would be in the wrong colors.
The transport slowed and unlike the last time I bolted for the door. My temporary owners stopped me and made me wait for them. They started the fire and inspected the little dwelling. It took forever in my opinion, but they finally removed my outfit from me.
Before my collar came off I wished them fun with the women in the mountains.
"Five days we have without you, slave," one of them said sounding happy. "Five days of women and fighting, we are very lucky men. I have no idea what you do for Damien and his Brothers, but I assume they are happy to have these five days also."
With that said he removed my collar and they left.
I paced the little room for several moments. I tried to kneel, but I was too excited. After checking outside for the third time and letting the hot air out, I decided to try to do something.
The cabin was ill used. Men must come here occasionally, but not often. I found the little room with the cleaning supplies and started to sweep. Soon I was singing and cleaning to my heart's content. I decided the cabin should and would be nice for my Masters.
The bedroom was as bad as the main room and I cleaned and straightened it. Since I was alone in the bedroom, I was still singing my song. A sound stopped me cold, it didn't sound friendly.
I turned and looked into five sets of eyes I barely recognized.
Master Damien and his Brothers looked horrible. Their clothing was still fine and nice. Their features just looked angry and tried.
"Masters, I'm so glad you're here," I said putting the broom behind me. "I wanted the cabin to be nice for you, clean..."
They stalked toward me and I dropped my eyes. I couldn't look at them without thinking how awful they looked.
The collar clipped around my neck and the other metal bands were affixed to my wrists and ankles. Master Damien jerked my chin up and glared down at me.
"What are you doing? Don't you know you should not look at men that are not your owners? What is an uncollared slave worth?" he asked.
I was stunned and then it hit me. My neck had been without their collar when I spoke to them. If it had been anyone else I looked at, I would have been in trouble.
"Your mark is always on me, Master Damien," I said soothingly touching my stomach. "I know that you care for me everyday. It never occurred to me that without your collar, you would not think of me as yours."
They were silent and I chanced a glance up. Their eyes were softer as Master Kein placed the jewelry in my nipples. My argument had worked.
"We are not Master in this room, Ciara. Did you forget that?" Damien asked instead.
"Hello, Damien," I smiled looking up at him.
I touched the lines of strain around his eyes and they softened slightly. I pulled on his shoulders until his lips came down to mine.
"I love you, Damien," I whispered before I kissed him, "I have missed you."
Walking in the room I greeted each of them with a kiss and spoken affection. They relaxed and took off their weapons. Still dressed they settled on the bed and pulled me down with them.
We talked on the bed for a long time. Well, they talked, I listened. I only spoke to get more detail or to agree. Otherwise, I stayed silent and gave them someone to talk to.
They hated the women and their new life. Damien did not want to be a General. A General led the men, Damien didn't mind that. He hated knowing every order he gave came from the women. They were slaves to the demands of the women and they despised it.
"Do they harm you?" I asked concerned.
The level of dislike they had had to stem from something. Perhaps pain and humiliation was at the root. Slaves could be treated in any way at all. I had to help them, so I had to know what I was dealing with.
"No," Evan grunted sprawling across my lap, "we are not hurt."
"Do they feed you?" I asked stroking Evan's hair. "Are you kept in a comfortable place?"
"It's not that," Kein complained and I ran a hand up his arm in comfort.
"We don't wish to be stationed in the mountains with them. We don't want to be sold to their cousins in the afternoons," he said. "We were not meant to be slaves."
"We were free," Christof said laying back and throwing a hand over his eyes.
"We could fight them," Bane said, "perhaps we could be free again."
I was in an impossibly strange situation. Slavery, at it's root, was wrong. Fighting it would be honorable, but it would probably get my men killed. The women would overpower them, I was sure of it.
The sight of that massive woman in the street overpowering ten men still haunted me. She had not even been deterred by the men's show of force that day. I imagined the mountains were loaded with women. My five men would never win.
"Sometimes," I started, "fighting is not a good answer. There may be other ways. Perhaps you could barter with them."
The men looked at me strangely for a moment. Evidently what I had said made no sense to them. Damien lay back and stared at the ceiling.
"You think the women would kill us," he said morosely. "You think it is not a battle we can win."
I didn't answer him, but the truth was probably written all over my face.
"They would win," Kein agreed watching me. "The other men in the mountains, I talked to them. There have been uprisings before, the men involved are killed if they cannot be broken. You have all seen the women, how they outnumber us."
Evan snorted and stared at me as he spoke, "It is weakness not to fight, whether we are outnumbered or not. We should fight them to our deaths, it is the only honorable way to end this."
I shuddered in fear and gripped his hand. "Evan, I have seen the women fight. Their weapons are terrible. Don't choose to die like that. There must be..."
"There is only this and death, Ciara," he said looking over at me. "Those are the only choices."
I could not lose them, so I bargained.
"Perhaps you are spending time doing reconnaissance work now. Perhaps you learn things so you can find a way to escape them," I said almost pleading.
Christof huffed loudly and stared at the ceiling. "We are learning they are more powerful than we will ever be," he said solemnly. "They have weapons we cannot best."
"Ah, yes, the venom," Bane said looking contemplative, "Remember when we saw the man as he angered his Mistress and she dropped a bit of her venom on him?"
"The man that died screaming before the moon shifted?" Evan asked. "I remember. We had to hear the misery of his family as they died one by one. It was awful."
"They have venom?" I whispered.
"In their teeth," Damien explained. "Nu-reeh told us they do not waste it on men, it kills us every time. They use it when they fight one another."
"Why?" Christof asked, "Why raise us free and then take us and tell us we are slaves? It makes no sense."
"You know why, Christof," Damien scoffed. "They like us to have spirit. Have you seen the women when they come back from the couplings with the free Warriors? They love it. They come to us now for specific reasons, but do you see the same joy on their faces when they are done?"
The men murmured agreement. The women liked to go to the couplings with the free men. It was a pleasurable experience. The men they kept in the mountains didn't bring out the same fire in them.
