Chapter 4

Page stepped into the steaming shower. She held her hands under the very warm water for a few moments, then reached for the body wash and poured some in her hand.

Slowly she began spreading the scented liquid across his back and down his ass and legs. She then reached around, under his arms, and gripped his shoulders. This drew her body into his, her firm breasts pressed into his back just where she had placed the body wash a moment before. She then began to move. It was like a dance but the dance floor was her master's body. She moved in circles and up and down, her breasts, stomach, hips, thighs and calves washing and massaging him. She pressed into him to maximize the contact and the sensation. As she moved lower, her hands moved across his chest and stomach. He had braced himself with his hands on the shower wall with his feet slightly spread apart. She moved lower. Her hands slid across the front of his thighs as her breasts lathered the back of them. She lowered herself even more. She held his knees while her face gently moved across his ass, gently spreading the soap to all the places it needed to be.

Page began to work her way back up and then slowly turned her Master around. She then soaped each arm, from shoulder to the ends of his fingers. She stepped to the side and ran his arm between her breasts, pulling his hand against her mons. Up and down she moved, sliding along his arm, going lower with each slow stroke. She ended up kneeling at his side, her breasts pushed together with her hands, effectively and very erotically washing his hand and fingers. After a moment she switched sides and repeated the same thing for his other arm and hand.

She then soaped his chest and began the process all over again, this time on his front. Her nipples, stimulated by the contact and friction, were hard and sensitive. She could feel the hair on his chest and his hard abdominal muscles. She moved slowly, shifting back and forth, up and down. Her hands slid down his back as she knelt down to wash his hips and legs. She used her face again, this time using the soft skin of her face to gently wash his cock and balls. She could feel the textures of his manhood as she used her cheeks to scrub and wash him.

Not once in the whole process did she look at his face. She knew his eyes would be closed. Once that had meant he was concentrating on the sensations of such an erotic and intimate act. Now she was not sure what it meant.

She only knew his cock remained soft and unresponsive.

Page poured shampoo into her hands and washed his shoulder length hair. She moved him fully under the water spray and rinsed his hair and moved her hands down to wash away the remaining body wash. Her mundane task complete and her sensual one a failure, she shut off the water and began toweling him off. When she was almost complete her Master opened his eyes, opened the shower door and stepped in the bathroom. A muttered "Thank you" was all the response she had been able to arouse from him. She dried off as well, the towel wiping away the remnants of both the shower and her silent tears.

It had been two weeks since the explosion at the auction house in Fresno. Some things had changed in unexpected ways while others had not changed at all.

The drive back towards the Pacific coast had taken more than two hours. Once they were clear of the "Vet Van" people, there was no need to flee in panic mode. All three were not feeling one hundred present. Almost as soon as they hit the highway Page fell asleep and Willow was too frightened to talk. Both were wrapped in blankets, not for modesty but for warmth. But still Willow shivered in terror, the trauma of the day catching up to her nervous system. The journey west was very quiet.

The drive across the valley is dull and, in early January, monochrome. Brown fields are broken by brown leafless trees followed by more brown fields stretching north and south without end. Up ahead the coastal hills, which are brown most of the year, turn green from the California winter rains. While they add a bit of color, they never seemed to get closer though the Range Rover was eating up the miles a quickly as it could.

Finally they began the climb into the hills between Santa Cruz and San Jose. Willow was trying to follow where they were going, hoping one day to try and escape. However she quickly became turned around and could see the rugged forest and steep hills everywhere she looked. She knew fleeing on foot would be impossible.

They turned off the highway and drove for another forty minutes, making left and right turns in an almost random pattern. Finally they slowed and turned off the paved road and onto a gravel path that ran beside an old frame house that would have looked right at home in Fresno. The paint was faded and the yard was full of weeds and scrubby bushes. The car pulled to the back of the house next to a barn, but did not stop. The path twisted around the far side of the barn and continued on into the stand of trees behind the barn. The path crossed over a bridge so narrow Willow was sure it would collapse under the weight of the Range Rover. It did not. In fact she did not feel it sway or shake.

The path they were following wound its way further into the brush. Page noticed that the very dense brush of both sides of the path was composed of a number of different plants. Sometimes a branch would reach part way across the path and be brushed aside by the SUV. When that happened Willow could see that the branch, and in fact all of the plants, were covered with very large and long thorns.

Very abruptly the landscape changed. They were crossing another bridge, this one much longer and more substantial, with arching supports and cables hanging down. The bridge spanned a ravine more than forty feet deep and filled with the rushing waters deposited by the January rains. While the ravine was not wide, the bridge was set at an angle to its path. Thus the bridge had to be long and narrow. As they crossed Willow could see across to the other side. The other side was a vineyard with grape vines running along a valley floor and up a gentle slope in the distance. After the dull landscape of Fresno and the dark path between the thorns, this small valley looked like paradise.

The SUV crossed over the bridge and continued towards a stand of old growth trees towards the back of the valley. They came to a stop in front of a low stucco house with large windows and rose bushes in the front yard. The roses were blooming with red, white and yellow flowers. The plants covered most of the yard and went around the sides as far as Willow could see.

Willow was startled when the man spoke for the first time since the trip had begun.

"Help her into the house. Her room is to the left of the house down the hall. Try and get her in bed without disturbing her too much. Then come to the great room."

The man stepped out of the car and opened her door. He took her hands and unlocked the cuffs she had worn all day ... ever since ... her mother ... She tried not to think of that or she would melt right on the spot. She watched as he unlocked Page's cuffs and put them in his pocket with hers.

"Go" he said firmly but without malice.

Willow moved as quickly as her sore knee would allow to the other side of the car and gently helped Page get on her feet and walk her to the front door. The man, her owner, her master, ... she had heard Page call him "lord," whatever he was, had left the door open. She stepped into the house and turned left down the hall. There was a door open at the end on the left and Page seemed to be heading towards it.

When they got there, Page shrugged off the blanket that had been across her shoulders and walked the few paces to the bed and eased herself down on it and did not move again. Her eyes were closed and Willow took a quilt from the foot of the bed and covered the naked slave. She then turned off the light and pulled the door closed.

Willow went back down the hall and stood near the front door where she had entered. Directly across from the front door was a wall of windows that went from floor to ceiling. A rose garden, the most beautiful she had ever seen was visible. She had only seen things like that in magazines and movies. But then she heard a glass tinkle as ice was dropped into it. She hobbled over to find the great room and complete the task her master had commanded.

She found him sitting in a leather wingback chair holding a glass that looked like it contained whiskey. As she quietly entered the room, he did not move or make a sound. He seemed to be lost in thought.

"Sir?" Willow said softly.

He looked up at her. His eyes went up and down her body and she remembered she was naked except for her shoes. But it was not a lustful look he gave her, but the look of someone sizing up their purchase.

"How are you?" He squeezed he eyes shut then opened them again. "I mean, are you well? How is the leg? Can you function?" He took a long breath and continued.

"I am near collapse and feel dizzy. Page is not well either. I know we both need rest and healing time. Are you up to taking care of us for the next few days?"

"I believe so ... sir."

"Good, good. There is only one car here and I have the keys. Don't think about running, you will just get caught and treated as a runaway from the auction house. However you are safe while you remain here.

"For the next few days just take care of us. Explore the house to find what you need. If you can cook, feed us.

"You are filthy. Take a bath first thing. Use Page's bathroom. If you have a problem, wake me up. But for the next few days I am counting on you to care for us. We will sort out the rest then."

He then wedged himself out of the chair and, carrying his glass, stumbled toward the other side of the house. She heard a mumbled "Good night" just before he closed the door.

Page woke to someone pressing a finger to her shoulder. It was not painful but very insistent. Her eyes flew open and saw her master looking down at her. She always woke at least an hour before he did to work out and complete her hygiene routine. She always greeted him ready for the day and whatever task she was given. That was the way she had been trained. She began to panic at her complete loss of protocol.

But Lord Blackmon did not look angry. He held a finger to her lips indicating silence and then pointed to the right side of the room. There, curled up on an overstuffed chair, Willow was asleep, covered with a blanket from the hall closet. Lord Blackmon motioned for Page to follow and they both quietly slipped out of the room.

Once in the great room, her master turned around and held a hand to her cheek. "How are you this morning?" he asked in a low voice.

"I am ... ok. The headache is gone, and the upset stomach. I am sore and have a few bruises."

"Do you feel like eating something?" he asked.

"I will fix something. It will..."

"No, I want to talk while we can. How about I fix some toast and we can sit together this morning? I have managed toast in the past, I am sure I can remember how."

"Then I will fix coffee?" she whispered.

"Fine."

Warm toast with butter and fresh coffee was put on the table and Page began kneeling near lord Blackmon's chair like she always did.

"No. Not today. Sit at the table with me so we can talk face to face."

Page stood and moved to a chair near the window. She caught sight of her reflection and was shocked at what she saw. Her hair was a tangled, dirty mess. She had neither makeup on nor lipstick. She still had dust and soot from the fire on her face, arms and chest. In the time she had been a slave, she had stood in public completely naked, in front of hundreds of people and did not feel as ashamed as she did at that moment with just her and her master in the room.

She was running her fingers through her blond hair as he began buttering some toast and took a bite.

"Page, I need to get a handle on what is going on and what I need to do to straighten this mess out. I only have a few days before I leave and I need this settled before that. I need for you to tell me everything you know about what happened yesterday."

Page took a bite of dry toast, it seem like a good choice given that her stomach had begun doing flip-flops again. She then told her master everything she knew including Willow's birthday, her mother selling her to the auction for her virginity and what she knew about the rescue.

Blackmon had finished his toast and was on his second cup of coffee by the time Page finished her tale, including how Willow had checked on her during the night and had even brought her some water to drink.

"That is some tale. We both were lucky not to get killed or separated in all of the mayhem. You made a good call saving her life.

"But today is today. What do we do now? We have some choices to make because they will dictate what we need to do next.

"We went to Fresno looking for someone that could help you around here and keep you company while I am gone. We came home with someone, but does she fit the tasks we were looking for?"

"Sir, are you asking for my opinion?"

"Yes Page, tell me. Do we stick with Willow or do we settle her situation, send her off and find what you were looking for?"

"Sir, I am not sure she is a perfect fit in terms of helping me lay out the gardens for the new house or redecorating this one. She is so young and we know so little about her and her abilities.

"But what we do know is that she saved us both. She was smart enough to gather information that was very important and share it with us. I like her heart and courage.

"She is so young you can train her to do whatever you need. Would you at least give her a chance. Her life here, even as a slave, would be better than her future as a slave in Fresno."

Her master placed on hand on the side of his face. Page had learned that was a sign he was thinking. After a few moments he dropped his hand and look at Page.

"No..."

Page's heart dropped and she began marshaling her thoughts to beg for Willow's life. She was about to speak when Lord Blackmon went on.

"No ... l will not be able to train her. Remember I am leaving in two weeks and will be gone for over four months.

"You will have to train her."

Page was startled. She had never considered training another slave. She knew there were training houses and slave schools that used other slaves to teach and punish. She had never been to one; her training had been done by a very demanding individual Lord Blackmon knew but lived in Oklahoma.

"I will call my lawyers today and let them get started in settling Willow's ownership. She was not sold for much and I think we can get it resolved for very little.

"Page, this is as good a project as the planning and redecorating you were going to do while I was gone. If she does not work out, when I get back we can take her to another auction house and sell her. I agree she deserves a chance, and I want you to give her the best chance possible.

After a moment, Page bowed her head a softly said "As you command."

The routine began to reassert itself over the next few days. Each morning Page woke very early to exercise or do Yoga and eat a bite of breakfast before her shower and grooming. She then gently woke her master, not with a blowjob as in the past, but with a gentle word and stroke of his face. She washed him in the shower and while he shaved she laid out his clothes for the day.

However, some things were different. Shortly after her conversation that morning with Lord Blackmon, Page woke Willow and pushed the half asleep girl into the shower. Willow was alarmed she was naked in the shower with another naked person, even if it was another girl. Page made Willow scrub three times to try and remove as much of the residue of the bomb blast and eighteen years of neglect as possible. She washed and conditioned Willow's hair but quickly realized it was beyond her skill to bring it under control. She would have to seek professional help.