Time Out Of Time [Mf, MFf, bd, exh, sm, nc]

The girls scrambled to their feet and piled into the kitchen. Their noses telling
them that breakfast was going to be better than cold cereal this morning.

I walked in a little more dignified to find the women pressed up around the
table. Leaving plenty of room for me. My plate had cutlery beside it. The girls
had plates. A big jug of syrup sat in the middle with a healthy plate of
pancakes.

I sat down. The girls looked at the food anxiously.

"Smells good."

"Thanks." Christi replied. A smile playing on her lips. Knowing that she was
going to get to eat some of them today.

I picked up a couple of the pancakes with my fork and prepared them. The girls
watched me. Waiting for permission to eat, I suppose.

"What are you waiting for?" I asked them mischievously.

Jane got her fingers into the pile first. Pulling four pancakes from the pile.
The others playfully fought over the remaining pancakes. Jane waited quietly for
me to finish with the syrup, then asked,

"Can us slaves be permitted syrup as well?"

"Of course." Though from their perspective, it was better to ask these things.

She reached forward and daintily poured some over her breakfast. I watched,
fascinated, as she used her fingers to separate and eat small portions of the
food. Very carefully. Trying not to spill sticky syrup on her bare body.

The other girls had the same problem. I almost completely forgot about my
breakfast as I watched the women eating with their fingers. It was damn hard to
ignore them, as they carefully licked their fingers clean from the sticky mess.
Amy was completely oblivious to herself. No sign of trouble like we'd encountered
yesterday at breakfast. The girls seemed happy, despite their challenges. They
were excitedly talking amongst themselves. Laughing even. The perfect image of
happy girls.

Finally, I tore my gaze from the women and I ate the pancakes in front of me.
Very. Very. Good. It tasted like Christi had made the batch from scratch. Real
pancakes. Delicious. Pancakes tended to fill me up, so I only ended up taking one
second helping. They had disappeared before the women had finished their first.
Eating with your fingers slowed you down a bit.

I sat back and watched the girls interact. Polishing off all the pancakes. They
must have be ravenous. I really hadn't fed them enough over the days. But
strangely enough, they hadn't complained about that. Probably had too many more
pressing things to complain about. Like sore breasts. I marveled. These women.
Complete strangers until four days ago. Laughing and talking like friends. Acting
as though everything was normal. Everything normal about four complete strangers
sitting around a breakfast table, completely nude, and eating with their fingers.
I watched as Amy even fed a piece to Jane. Jane licking Amy's fingers. Bemused, I
sincerely hoped that this didn't deteriorate into a food fight. And god help them
if I got hit. So, they'd need another shower. If they went that far, they were
showering in a damn cold spray.

The girls behaved and finally finished. No food fight. Lucky for them. Amy and
Elizabeth immediately rose to their feet and began to clear the table. Running
the water for the dishes. I relaxed as Jane and Christi just watched as the other
two naked women cleaned up the kitchen.

I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to do with them today. Amy was probably a bit
too sore to be involved in any really rigorous activities. I could live with
hurting her further. But it just didn't seem necessary. And Jane deserved some
rest after the hell I'd put her through yesterday. I guess I'd have to make do
with Elizabeth and Christi today. Or find something different to do.

Elizabeth and Amy finished washing the dishes and returned. They simply stood and
waited. Knowing that with breakfast done, I would probably give them further
orders.

"Girls? We're moving." I opted for different.

"What?" Almost all together. It was almost as though they had considered Amy's
hotel suite a sort of home. It was a fantastic suite, I had to admit. I idly
wondered what Amy's father did for a living. To be able to afford this place.

"I think we'd do better in a house. What do you think?"

Elizabeth was the one that spoke up. "But. We like it here. We're used to it."

I looked at her quizzically. "Does it really matter what you think? Or like?"

"No. I guess not."

"Okay. Gather up the toys. Make sure you forget nothing. You can have a vote on
where we settle next. Okay?"

Elizabeth sighed. "Yes. Master." No sarcasm. Just defeat.

The girls all rose and began to hunt down discarded handcuffs. Refilling the
packs with bondage toys. Ropes. I watched as Jane recovered the crop. When she
thought I wasn't looking, she closed her eyes and tapped it against her thigh.
Feeling the pain settle into her flesh.

Amy, a look of dread on her face dropped the tongue clamp into a pack.

Jane wandered up. Yesterday's lingerie folded neatly in her arms.

"Please. Master. Can a slave take her clothing?"

I shrugged. We could always pick up more. But she seemed attached to this stuff.
I nodded.

She scampered away. Tucking it into another pack. Finally, the girls lined up in
front of me, as though for inspection. I rose and left them there making a quick
tour of the suite. I couldn't see anything they had missed. I picked up the two
packs and handed one to Amy and the other to Elizabeth. They grasped the packs in
their fingers.

We trudged out of the hotel room for the last time. Amy looking back at her
frozen father one last time, a tear forming in her eyes. She whispered,
"Good-bye" and turned around.

Their mood brightened as the girls stepped out into the morning sunshine. Their
bare feet touching the warm asphalt. Jane turned to me. Her bathrobe twirling
around her body. Pulling at her bound hands and said, "Please. Master. Can a
slave please walk in the grass again?"

"Sure. Knock yourself out."

She skipped away to tell the others. I walked a bit behind them. Their mood
seemed to have focused back on finding new shelter instead of melancholy about
leaving the suite. They talked quietly amongst themselves. I really couldn't hear
much, but I definitely picked up the word "sex" a number of times. Amy shaking
her head a lot. Girls would be girls. I'd probably have to separate them to keep
them quiet. I really didn't care, I let them talk.

Soon, we had walked out of the commercial core of the city back out to where
there was a bit of residential housing. I began to watch for a decent place to
make our new home base. The girls just enjoying the sunshine and the day. Not
particularly uncomfortable. I only had them loosely handcuffed. More for visual
effect than restraint.

Jane stopped up ahead. I caught up to the girls.

"That one." She pointed with her bound hands. I followed the line of her arms.
She had picked a large house. Almost a mansion. Gates and everything.

"That one?"

"Yeah."

"All of you happy with that?"

The other girls nodded. Probably had never even dreamed of being in a house like
that.

"Let's see who's home then?" I opened the gate.

The girls followed.

The front door was unlocked. I opened that and stepped foot into this huge
Victorian mansion. Enormous foyer.

"Stay here." I ordered the women. They obediently knelt on the foyer tiles and
continued their conversation quietly.

I poked my head into the downstairs rooms. Library. Den. Large dining room.
Entertaining room. Living room with a huge entertainment system. TV. Stereo. All
empty. Until I hit the kitchen. An enormous place. Christi was going to like
cooking in here. There was a cook. An elderly lady frozen while preparing
something. Perhaps tea. I ignored her for now.

I wandered back to the foyer. The girls looked up from their knees expectantly.

"Okay. You can make yourselves comfortable. Don't go too far. Stay out of the
kitchen. And wait until I come back down. Understand?"

The girls nodded in unison and began to climb to their feet. Anxious to start
exploring their new home. I walked slowly upstairs. A feeling of dread permeated
me. I have no idea why. It isn't as though there could possibly be any danger. I
patted the gun that I'd shoved into the waistband of my jeans.

The upstairs consisted of a long hallway. Closed doors. Maybe five or six of
them. I opened the first one I came to. A bathroom. And what a bathroom. It was
the biggest bathroom I'd ever seen. Toilet. Bidet. Counter with two sinks. Huge
mirror. Shower and tub that all four girls could fit in at the same time. Looked
like a whirlpool tub. Magazine rack. Tons of space.

I closed the door. Next room looked like a guest room. Queen size bed. Empty.

Next room. Some kind of den. Or sewing room. It was hard to tell. But the decor
looked masculine. A den but with a sewing machine. Strange.

The next room contained a huge four poster covered bed. Very Victorian. Flowery.
Lacy. There was a prone woman sleeping in the bed. Older. Fifty or so by my
guess. I'd have to get rid of her. Huge mirror. Lush carpeting. After the hotel
suite, the girls weren't going to bitch about sleeping on *this* floor.

I wandered back out to the hall. The next room turned out to be a closet. Holding
linens and towels.

The final door took me aback. It was locked.

I'm not really one for locked doors. I could have kicked it in, but I figured
that lady in the bed would know where the key was. I had to unfreeze her
eventually if I was going to sleep in that very comfortable looking bed of hers.

I wandered back to the bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed and unfroze the
woman lying there. She just continued to sleep as though there wasn't a strange
man in her room and nothing odd had happened.

I gently shook her. Without opening her eyes she mumbled, "Evan, five more
minutes, 'kay?"

I shook her again. This time her eyes fluttered open. She screamed when she saw
me. Gathering her nightgown around herself. Crawling up to the head of the bed
and huddling there.

"Who the hell are you?" she whispered.

"Doesn't matter. Who are you?"

"Gertrude. Gertrude Mayer. What do y-you want? Money? It's in the safe
downstairs. I'll open it for you," she babbled.

"I don't want money."

Her eyes betrayed her fear. Her mouth opened and she bellowed, "Sheila!!!"

I just looked at her. I assumed that she was yelling for the elderly lady in the
kitchen.

"She can't hear you."

"Oh my God. What have you done to her?"

"Relax. I haven't done anything to her. She just can't hear you."

"I. I don't understand."

"Lady, you don't have to understand."

"Are you going to hurt me?"

"No. Just displace you for a while."

"Are you going to r-rape me?"

"No. Relax."

Her eyes showed her confusion. "What do you want?" she repeated.

"Gertrude. You know that locked room in your hall?"

It took a second to skip tracks. Completely confused. "Yes."

"Where's the key?"

"Th-that's my husband's room. I. I don't go in there. Why?"

"I don't like locked doors."

"I don't know where the key is."

"You realize that I can hurt you, right?" A bit of menace in my voice.

"Oh my God. You are going to torture me?"

"I have to be sure that you don't know where the key is."

"Please. All right. I'm not supposed to know. Please just let me go. The key. I
can show you where the spare key is. Please."

I nodded. She slipped off the bed. She looked over her shoulder at me. Judging
whether she could make a run for it. She started towards the door and suddenly
made a run for it. I wasn't too surprised. I just nonchalantly narrowed her time
bubble. Trapping her in a slower time. I casually walked in front of her, between
her and the door. I released her from the time constriction and she stumbled out
of it, her timing off. I grabbed her by the nightgown and gave her a good hard
slap across the face.

She screamed in fright and in pain. To her it would have looked like I'd just
materialized in front of her. She was startled by the phenomenon and the slap
stinging her cheek. She brought her hand up to her face, rubbing the red hand
print. Her eyes tearing.

She fell to her knees. Begging. "Please. Oh God. Please don't hurt me. I didn't
mean. I'll do whatever it is you want. Just don't hurt me. Oh God."

I touched her shoulder. "Gertrude. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to slap you that
hard." I did, but I was trying to calm the distraught woman. "Just show me where
the key is, and I'll let you free. Okay?"

She nodded. Tears still running down her face. Fear in her eyes. She stumbled
back to her feet. This time I kept her within arms reach. Letting her lead me to
the den. She opened a drawer on the left hand side and fished around. She finally
handed me an ornamental key.

"Please. I'm not supposed to know about this. I. I think he does his business in
there. I haven't been allowed in that room in ten years. Please."

"Your husband will never know about this. At least not from me. Promise."

"Do you know Evan?" her eyes becoming shrewd.

I shook my head. The woman probably thought I was involved in Evan's business.
And had come to check up on things. Or something. I idly wondered what I'd
stumbled into here.