Chapter 11

Saturday

I woke up all at once. No nightmare, muscle jerks, or other startling events; it just seemed right to be awake. There was none of the momentary confusion that often accompanied the transition to wakefulness, no groping for alertness. Today, my inner voice told me, is my hanging day.

I felt energy coursing through me, an intense awareness of everything around me. The warmth of Scott’s still-sleeping body against me, his arms holding me. The crispness of the bedsheets. The brightness of the sunlight streaming in from the window, illuminating the currently bare top of the dresser where Scott promised my head will rest. The almost subliminal hum of sixty-cycle electric current from the alarm clock on the bedside table, its digital display red. Redder than red. Six forty-five.

I hadn’t moved, but Scott’s eyes came open partway, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. A whispered, “Morning, Mrs. Smith.”

I tightened my arms around him and kissed him, rubbing my body against him. Not in invitation to something more intense. Just wanting to feel him.

Scott broke off the kiss, his smile now quizzical. “There’s something about your eyes.”

I smiled back. “What about my eyes?”

He thought a moment, then shrugged. “Just somehow, I don’t know ... brighter.”

I gave him a squeeze. What Runner had seen two days ago was now visible to anyone who looked. “Well, you know. Big day today.”

Scott was startled by a sudden tap at the door. I wasn’t. I’d heard the soft steps approaching on the hallway carpet. I was just more aware today, of everything.

Matty’s voice, very soft. “Mister Calvin? Mistress Amy? Do you want your breakfast now?”

Scott’s eyebrows went up. “Ummm ... You mean in here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Uhhh ... sure.” He looked at me and shrugged. Obviously this wasn’t the usual thing.

The door opened, and Matty and Sharon entered, each with a tray. Scott and I looked at each other with a simultaneous chuckle. We pushed ourselves up to a sitting position and put our pillows behind our backs, upright against the headboard. I let the bedsheet settle across my lap. I wasn’t sure about the propriety of showing my bare breasts to near-strangers. Then I remembered that I was a member of the family now. Matty and Sharon were technically my own slaves, odd as the notion seemed to me: I had been a slave for four years, and been free for less than a day.

The two slaves waited patiently as we rearranged ourselves, then set the trays over our laps.

Scott said to Matty, “This my dad’s idea?”

He shook his head briefly, and gave Scott a small smile. “No, sir. We thought you might like it. Mister Benjamin did tell us the caterers were coming at eight, and we thought you’d probably want to eat before that.”

“Oh! Right. And thank you, this is really nice.”

Matty and Sharon both said, not quite together, “Thank you, sir.” I choked back a giggle over a memory: Holden and Hamish would have been perfectly synchronized.

I looked at our breakfasts and nearly choked again suppressing my laughter. As soon as Matty and Sharon had closed the door and walked away, I let my amusement bubble out.

“What’s so funny,” Scott asked. Then he looked at my tray and asked, “Is it the breakfast?”

After a few more seconds I managed to control myself enough to gasp out, “Yes. Carb loading.”

“What?”

“It’s something marathon runners do. Eating a lot of carbohydrates to build up fuel in the muscles.” I gestured at my tray. It had one, solitary, boiled egg. The rest was pancakes with maple syrup, a big serving of hash brown potatoes, and a hearty cooked cereal. A creamer, a bowl of white sugar, another of brown sugar, and a dish of honey sat next to the cereal bowl. There was a 16oz glass of orange juice, another of apple juice, and a third of tomato juice.

“Oh.” said Scott. His tray held a huge Spanish omelet, bacon, buttered toast, and a 4oz glass of orange juice. He started laughing, too, and that set me off again. We ended up holding on to each other for support. I had the hiccups from laughing so hard. I cupped my hands over my face and rebreathed my air to get the hiccups under control.

“Carb loading is for events lasting longer than an hour,” I explained, “I hope to make 25 minutes or a little longer, but even Grant only lasted 40 minutes.”

We ended up trading around, so we each got some omelot and some bacon and some pancakes, etc.

As we ate, I asked, “So what’s the schedule? All I know about now is the caterers.”

“Well, there’s also a wedding coach, who’s going to show your friends, and mine, the ones participating, what they’re supposed to do.” He laughed. “The guys, my friends—on their invitations it said get here by ten. I didn’t say why, though. Oh! And a photographer is coming, at about nine. I wanted some pics of you, and of us together. Could you put on that same outfit as yesterday? I really like that.”

“I’ve got one like it in my bag, that’s fresher. My friends were talking about wedding outfits. Don’t you want me in one?”

“Of course, but you can change into that later.”

“This guy knows he can’t photograph my hanging, right?”

“Girl. Yeah, in fact, she’ll be leaving before that.”

“When do the guests get here?”

“The invitations said noon. I was thinking we’d try to hang you around three—does that give you enough time to get ready, after we spend some time with the guests?”

I nodded. “That’ll mean the show will be over about halfway between lunch and dinner. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, the invitations say no formal dinner. The guests will just graze off a buffet until everybody gets too tired—or drunk—to keep going.”

I grinned suddenly. “This is so great! I just still can’t believe ... well, I’m just really happy to have something unique. I don’t think any Noosemeister ever went out this way. Thank you.” I kissed him, and went on for a time, alternating thank-yous and kisses.

I looked at the clock. “We’d better shower and get dressed. Come on.” I set my tray aside, jumped out of bed and took him by the hand. Scott was disappointed that we didn’t make love once more, but he hid it well. We’ve done it in bed enough, sweetie. I’ve got something else planned.

The shower was easily big enough for both of us. I used my hands to spread soap over his body; and he did the same for me. I smiled as I saw his erection growing. I’d better get to that now.

I knelt, stroked it a few seconds with wet hands to wash off the soap, then opened my mouth and took it in, alternately sucking deeply and licking. Scott grinned down at me after an initial gasp. “What do you think you’re doing, Mrs. Smith?”

I let him slip out of my mouth long enough to say “Making memories.” This time I used the seductive purr I’d avoided earlier. I began sucking again, hearing Scott moan as the warm water cascaded over us.

The grounds behind our house bustled with activity. The caterers had parked their truck beside the hanging stage. I closed my eyes and slowly took in a deep lungful of fresh air. It was dry, sweetly floral-scented, and cool now, but it would be warm by Noon. Scott said, “Remind ... No, sorry, honey. You’ve got enough to think about. I need to remember to tell them to move that truck out of the area before the guests start showing up.”

I rubbed up against him and brushed my cheek on his shoulder. “I imagine they’ve done this before, sweetie.” I smiled at as I saw my friends splashing in the pool again.

I turned to look at the hanging stage; my eyes were caught by the heavy rope hanging above the stage. I had only meant to glance at it and then look back at Scott, but it held my attention magnetically. It’s for me, it’s for me! Ever since the day I had stood, entranced, watching Miranda hang, my life had been pointed toward this one special day. I felt a quivering energy pour through my body.

I pulled myself together and turned away. I can get caught up in that excitement later. There’s something else happening now, something I never imagined I’d participate in—my own wedding party! And that’s something to be shared with Scott. I want him always to remember every second of today.

I felt a renewed gush of love for him, remembering how much he was sacrificing for this. My dream comes first in his mind. He’s giving so much of himself to make this perfect for me. I want it to be perfect for him.

My arms seemed to enfold themselves around him automatically, and I rested my head on his shoulder. I said, “I love you.” My voice was husky, near tears.

His arm circled my waist, his cheek rubbing the top of my head. “I love you, Amy. I’ll say it first, next time.”

I giggled. “Nope, I’ll beat you to it every time.”

A slightly sleepy-but-friendly looking woman with an expensive camera approached. She smiled. “I’m Jessica. Your boy ... ummmm, Matty, let me in. Do you want me to get some pics now?”

Over the next few minutes, Jessica took photos in various poses—one with Scott and me standing beside each other looking at the camera; one with us facing each other looking lovingly into each other’s eyes; one of Benjamin and me; one of Scott, Benjamin, and me; one of me alone, holding a bouquet of flowers in front of my waist, my head in a slight playful tilt to the side. Jessica suggested I get up onto the stage, and took a shot of me, my right arm up and my fingers wrapped around the noose as I beamed at the camera.

After I hopped down from the stage, I heard a distant shout, “Amy!” and moments later the pounding of feet as Melissa, Jana, and Runner sprinted over, all un-self-consciously naked—Runner least self-conscious of all. Melissa stopped suddenly about ten feet away, her arms out to signal the others to hold back, and said, “I’m sorry, you’re in the middle of something. We can...”

“Oh!” I turned Jessica. “Can we get one of the four of us?” I looked at Scott. “Is that okay, sweetie?”

He grinned. “Sure. Ummm ... You mean like they are?”

I laughed. “You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

Scott choked back a laugh. “Uhhh, no, that’s fine.”

It took a few minutes for me to get them lined up next to me, with no one hidden behind anyone else. I ended up with Melissa on my left and Jana on my right, my arms around their waists. Runner sat cross-legged on the ground in front of me, his head resting against my inner thigh, his arm wrapped around my leg.

Runner looked up at me uncertainly. “What do I do, Amy?”

I suddenly realized that Runner had seen any number of photographs, but he’d never had his own picture taken before. I pointed. “That’s the camera she’s holding right there. That’s what makes the picture. Just look right at it, and smile like it’s a really close friend.”

Runner grinned back. “I’ll pretend it’s you.” He beamed at the camera.

I asked Jessica, “Is the lighting a problem? They’re all kind of ... reflective.” They were still wet from the pool.

Jessica shook her head. “Not a problem. On three...” Melissa tilted her head against me, and Jana put her arm across my back. Jessica counted, and pressed the button.

As Jessica lowered the camera, Runner looked up at me again. “Did she do it?”

I smiled at him. “Yeah, it’s done.” I looked at Jessica. “Is there any way we can see that now?”

Jessica nodded. “Sure.” The digital camera had a small printer on the side. She pressed a few buttons, and a wide, flat tongue of stiff paper issued from the slot. Jessica took it and handed it to me, as Runner scrambled to his feet.

I held it; Runner stood transfixed, staring at it, his lips pressed together, his eyes unblinking.

I had no trouble reading Runner’s body language. I looked at Jessica. “Is there any way he could keep that...” I looked at Scott, biting my lip. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ask. I know this is costing you more money.”

Scott started, “It’s not a big...” but was interrupted by Jessica saying, “It’s on me,” smiling.

I looked at her, wide-eyed. “Really??” Impulsively, I reached out and hugged Jessica. “Thank you.”

Jessica, a little startled, said, “No problem.”

I turned and held the photo toward Runner. “This is for...” I stopped and looked back and forth between Melissa and Jana. “You guys understand, right?”

Melissa said, “Absolutely,” while Jana nodded vigorously.

I smiled at both of them, and turned back to Runner. “This is yours.”

Runner’s jaw dropped as he took the photo from me. “Mine?” I nodded.

Holding the picture by his fingertips in both hands, Runner said breathlessly, “I’m going to go put this in my bag,” turned, and made a dash for the guesthouse.

I watched him go, sighed, and turned back to Scott, hugging him and kissing his cheek.

He grinned. “What’s that for?”

“Just general principles. And because you said yes, too.”

Sharon had approached and stopped a few paces away. She cleared her throat now. “Mister Calvin? The wedding coach is here.”

Scott gave me a quick kiss on the lips and turned to the slavegirl. “Show him to the guesthouse, please, Sharon.” He looked back at me. “You guys should all go there too. I’ll hang around out here and bring my buddies back there when they show up.”

I nodded, kissed him again, and started to walk back to the guesthouse with Melissa and Jana, but stopped. “Sharon, my bag is up in Scott’s room ... ummm, Mister Calvin’s room...” I laughed briefly. “My room. Could you or Matty bring it out to the guesthouse? I need something that’s in it.”

Sharon nodded, “Yes, maam,” and did a small bow.

I blinked. That was the first time either of Benjamin’s slaves had called me that. Well, life’s full of changes.

Melissa finished buttoning the back of my dress. “You look fine without a bra, Amy. I’m just thinking about whether the dress is going to chafe your tits, rubbing back and forth when you walk around.”

I shook my head. “I’ll be fine.” I’d decided to wear panties, though, and added a heavy-duty sanitary napkin; I’d been leaking juices all morning, thinking about my hanging.

The dress was a pretty creme color, and I liked the style. Long sleeves, shoulders slightly puffy but not excessively so, snug across my belly. The material across my breasts was thin and outlined their shape separately, showing just a hint of cleavage. It came down almost to my ankles. “No, it feels fine. I don’t think I’ll need to move that much anyway. Now help me with this.” I picked up the strip of material we bought on the way home from the city marriage office.

Melissa blinked. “What kind of help do you need with a choker?”

I shook my head. “Not with the choker itself. Hold on.” I bent down to my bag and unzipped the pocket. I extracted the five inch cutting of brown hair, trying not to lose any strands. I wrapped it around the choker and tied it in a knot to hold it in place. I nodded, and muttered, “That should stay.”

Runner didn’t looked especially puzzled until he saw that Melissa and Jana did. Apparently he assumed I was doing something normal until the evidence came in that it wasn’t. “What’s that for, Amy?”

I smiled at him. “Remember what I told you about my first roommate, Susan?”

Runner nodded. “We saw her in the Hall of Honor. They hanged her at your first demo.”

“Well, this is some of her hair. You saw how short it was, right?” Runner nodded. “It was cut so she could play a prisoner in the little show we put on beforehand. She was the first student to do any kind of show at a demo, instead of just getting hanged so we could all watch. Anyway, I promised her I’d wear her hair around my choker when I did my show. Right up next to the rope. I just wanted her to know I’d remember her always.”

Runner looked wide-eyed at the bit of hair now tied around the choker, then up at me. “I’ll remember you always, Amy.” He suddenly knelt beside his own bag, and stroked the side of it, looking up at me as he did it. “When I do my show, I’m going to have the picture of us. I’ll put it somewhere on me.”

I blinked quickly to keep the tears from flowing. This wasn’t a good time to have to fix my eyes. Runner stood again, and I kissed him. “Thank you, honey.” I picked up the choker, brushing a finger against the right side of my neck, and looked at Melissa. “I need you to help me put this right over my carotid.” I put on the choker and fastened it, and stood still while Melissa, her tongue sticking out slightly, gently tugged it around so Susan’s hair was in the proper place.

Melissa stepped back, nodding with satisfaction. She held up a hand mirror for me to look. Perfect! It somehow, without being obvious, calls attention to the column of my neck—the real star of today’s show.

I said, “Oh! I hadn’t thought of this somehow. The pulse monitor is in my slave choker, and I’m not going to be wearing that.”

Melissa looked startled. “Oh, right! Well, it’s okay, Amy. I can just do it the old-fashioned way. I’ll check your pulse myself.”

I nodded. “Okay. But ... okay, just leave me hanging about an extra five minutes after you think I’m dead. I’ll tell Scott, so he knows what’s going on. I just don’t want you checking over and over.”

Melissa smiled. “Amy, I can tell...” She waved her hand. “Never mind, though, I’ll do it that way.”

I let out a sigh. I’m ready now.

Melissa, Jana, and Runner were all in their outfits. The bridesmaid dresses were cut like mine, but in soft yellow color, and Runner’s tux matched them. A silly color for a tux, but things like that seem to be the fate of groomsmen everywhere. The girls had semi-formal hair-styles with clips to hold them in place; Runner’s was neatly brushed. My hair was too short to be rearranged in any significant way, but Jana had smoothed it out with a hairbrush.