Chapter 2

The next time Lord Blackmon opened his eyes, he was able to look around. The room looked familiar but strange at the same time. He though he recognized the furniture, the chair and ... he realized in a flash where he was. This was the guest suite in his own house, Rose House. It did not seem familiar before because it had never held a hospital bed before. Also, he had never seen it from the perspective of lying down! But once he realized it, he recognized the entertainment unit, the books on the shelves, even the doorknob seemed special to him. He was home.

At that moment the door burst open and Page ran into the room. She paused just inside the door and looked at him. She was damp, her blonde hair was matted down and she was wrapped in a white towel. She was, in that moment, one of the greatest sights he had ever seen.

“Hi Page,” he said his voice soft and choked by disuse and emotion. Whatever formal and appropriate greeting Page had planned was lost in a flood of tears. She approached the bed, knelt down and took his right hand, it was not covered in bandages any longer, and she held it to her face. She sobbed there while Lord Blackmon quietly wept too. Yes, he was truly home. After a few minutes the outpouring of emotion proved too much for the weakened man and he drifted back to sleep with Page still holding his hand now covered in her tears.

“We must prepare to greet Lord Blackmon more formally.” Page said looking at the other two slaves as they stood in the kitchen. They were quite a contrast. Willow was only a little shorter that Page. Her body had been shaped and sculpted by hours of exercise over the last six months. Her abs were well defined as well as her arms. Her legs had become lean and sleek. All were on display as she wore a black sports bra and tiny workout shorts. Master Carl had ordered the three slaves to cover up for hygienic reasons and if medical personnel were needed for Lord Blackmon. Willow’s hair was still quite short and very black. Her skin was clear and pale in a beautiful porcelain way. More than all of that, she carried herself with confidence and pride. The only thing that marred her perfect skin was the many faint and healing bruises.

Heather was very different. She was shorter than both Willow and Page. Her bright red hair was long, almost to her ass. She wore a sports bra and shorts as well, but in a dark green that worked very well with her coloring. A dusting of light freckles could be seen across her nose and on her chest. Her tits were smaller than Willow’s and much smaller than Page’s. She had regained some of her athletic muscle tone since they had returned to Rose House and its exercise room, but she had further to go before she was as trim as Page to say nothing of ripped like Willow.

In contrast, Page was a goddess. The first time Willow had seen Page, she was not sure she was even real. Her large but perfectly proportioned and shaped tits highlighted a toned stomach, beautiful face and legs. Her beauty was breathtaking and on display as she stood before both of the other slaves completely naked. No one noticed.

“Master Carl will not be back before this evening. He is picking up a wheelchair so that we can get Lord Blackmon out of that bed, he must be going stir crazy. We have many stories to tell him, but not tonight, not yet. If he asks, we will answer any question but for now let’s not overwhelm him with our woes.”

“We understand,” Heather said.

Willow jumped in, “Page, go get clean up and ... ready for how you want to present yourself. We will have dinner and the house ready by the time you are finished.”

Willow’s words brought Page up short. How should I dress, if at all? Almost every moment I have been around Lord Blackmon I had been nude, wearing only a collar and sometimes cuffs and shoes. It was considered the house uniform! Page thought for a moment then got an idea. She would need Willow and Heather to help but it would be the perfect way to present herself and them for Lord Blackmon.

With the plan for the evening forming in her head she quickly headed towards the shower.

“Do you feel up to sitting for a while?” Carl asked.

Carl had returned from his run to Santa Cruz with the wheelchair and other necessities for the household. They all had been left for the moment in the Land Rover when Heather came out to greet him with the news. He was anxious to see his employer and ... friend? Are we friends? he wondered. He knew a great deal about Lord Blackmon. He had been living in his house and condo, had been eating the man’s food, driving the man’s car and fucking the man’s two slaves. But in truth he had never spent an extended period of time with Lord Blackmon, at least not when he was conscious. He had been taking his shifts along with the three slaves looking out for Lord Blackmon, waiting for him to recover some measure of his strength. Carl, through Page, had even grown to love the man. But that was all one sided. To Lord Blackmon, Carl was a bodyguard, a night watchman, and an interloper all rolled into one. He knew his time at Rose House was numbered and he knew he would miss it. He knew he would miss them.

“Yes, please.” Carl help Lord Blackmon sit up then wrapped him in a bear hug to help move him to the wheelchair. Carl tried to be extra careful of the man’s injured and bandaged left hand. Lord Blackmon winced in pain when his damaged left foot touched the floor. Carl lifted the injured limb to get it in a comfortable position on the footrest of the wheelchair and then gave Lord Blackmon a minute to gather himself.

“Where do you want to go?” Carl asked.

“Let’s move out to the back porch if you don’t mind.”

“Here we go.”

A few minutes later, Carl pulled up a chair next to the man in the wheelchair. He was glad he had thought to drape a blanket over Lord Blackmon’s legs because the evening air was quite chilly, perfectly normal for the Northern California Coastal Mountains.