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50 Kim and Thanksgiving Story In Comments  |
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Mr. or Mrs. ALT CENSOR! THERE IS NO HATE/WEAPONS/UNDERAGE IN THIS POST. EVERYTHING IS CONSENSUAL, NO WEAPONS AND ADULT Nothing more was said about Pam being sold by their Master. No one dared ask how she was doing, and Master didn’t offer any other thoughts on the matter or updates. To Timothy, since she was no longer his slave, she no longer was worth thinking about. He had his slaves to think about, and how to play with them in new and tormenting ways. Days and dates meant nothing to Kim anymore. When she woke one morning and smelled the preparations for a feast, it dawned on her that it was Thanksgiving. Mary’s grooming routine was the same as always. The holiday didn’t change that. Breakfast was the same bland meal. Timothy fed Kim and Helen as he always did, though Helen had to knell upright due to the caning she had received the day before when she spit out the water Master was giving her from his glass. It soaked his shirt sleeve and spilled all over the floor at lunch. It didn’t matter that Timothy had tilted the glass too far, on purpose, probably. Helen hadn’t been able to avoid spewing the excess water out of her mouth. Kim had earned her own caning days earlier when she hadn’t been able to swallow a piece of fish she was fed, covered in so much pepper, she just couldn’t keep herself from spitting it out back into her Master’s hand. She knew it was deliberate, but she nonetheless accepted the 20 cane strokes that had her bawling in agony and barely able to stay on her feet, clutching her ankles during the caning. But she knew, too, that it pleased her Master to cane her. She accepted his praise for not moving from her stance and kissed his shoes in contentment, thanking him for teaching her a lesson about manners. Timothy didn’t make his rounds of the estate since it was a holiday, instead leading his slaves into his study to listen to music. Kneeling next to her Master, Kim realized how much she missed accompanying him on his tours of the estate. It was getting too chilly for Timothy to have his slaves crawl or walk along outdoors, nude. Tying them to a cross in the chilly wind was out of the question, as was staking them out on the ground. Even restraining them to a saddle or mounting them on the back of the pickup was just asking for them to get sick in the fall air. And clothing his slaves was not an option. So, when their Master was out inspecting the estate and keeping tabs on the goings-on, Kim and Helen spent the day in the dungeon in one kind of restraint or bound predicament or another. Never comfortable, painless or ladylike. At least once a week, Kim and Helen were used by members of the staff and estate personnel, and of course Master used them daily as many times as he pleased. Kim knelt quietly beside her Master. She really didn’t care for classical music, and her Master didn’t require her or Helen to talk about the music. She found these time quite boring actually, but also used the time to rest, knowing she could very well be in the dungeon receiving electrical shocks, or impaled on dildos, or servicing any number of staff, or an infinite number of torturous situations. If this pleased Master, then she would accept it and make the most of it. What made today's musical experience harder than other times was the aromas wafting throughout the mansion. Kim was salivating at the thought of all the delicious foods she could smell being prepared. She was hoping dearly that her Master wouldn’t be cruel and deny Helen and her the food they were smelling and being tempted by. Kim was fighting to stay awake when the study doors swung open and the butler stepped in. ”Excuse me, Mr. Timothy. Dinner will be served in 10 minutes.” The butler stated solemnly. “Thank you, Edward, I’ll be right out.” Answered Timothy as he rose from his chair, already using the remote control to turn the music off. After placing the remote on the table beside his chair, he snapped his fingers and began walking to the door. Kim and Helen immediately crawled on all fours behind their Master. This was something new Timothy had started since Halloween. Mary and Florence would detach Kim and Helen’s leashes when they brought the slaves down for breakfast. Timothy would then just snap his fingers when he wanted them to follow, or point his index finger when and where he wanted them to kneel. To Kim, it was even more humiliating than being led on a leash. She and Helen were now considered more “trained”, just as a pet would be. Neither slave had disobeyed or missed a hand command… yet. Kim didn’t want to find out the discipline for that. She imagined having to wear one of those electronic dog collars that shocked you when you strayed outside a boundary, or when the owner was displeased with you. “I can do without that, thank you very much.” She had decided when she thought about consequences. Kim and Helen had to crawl briskly to keep up with their Master. They had learned to keep their feet up off the floor and not drag them. They stayed on their palms and knees to keep up when Master walked at a quick pace instead of a stroll. When Kim made it to the entrance to the dining room, she immediately noticed Mary and Florence sitting at the table and that there were two empty chairs, one to each side of Master’s chair. Timothy signaled his slaves to “stay”, and turned to face them. A slight gesture with his fingers, and his slaves rose to their feet and stood at attention with their arms folded behind their backs. “You may both sit beside me for Thanksgiving dinner if you can do so as Ladies.” Timothy said in a serious tone. As one, Kim and Helen answered, “Yes Master, thank you, Master!” With wide smiles on their faces. Timothy took a step aside and wave them to their seats with a tilt of his head and a smile of his own. Kim slid into her seat beside Mary, and Helen sat beside Florence. Helen was a nervous wreck when she spied the many utensils laid out on either side of her plate. Kim caught her eyes and covertly showed her to pick up her napkin, unfold it and place it on her lap. Kim had been to a few fancy dinners in the past, but it was obvious that Helen had only used one knife, one fork and one spoon anytime she had eaten. Kim gave her a wink and pointed at her eyes and then herself, telling Helen to watch her and follow what Kim did. Dinner was delicious, if somewhat a silent affair. While they dined on Turkey, whipped potatoes, stuffing, vegetables and cranberry sauce with gravy of course amongst a few other delights, Chat was mostly between Timothy, Mary and Florence. And the topics were many times Kim and Helen, or about news items that the slaves hadn’t a clue about. It dawned on Kim that she knew nothing that was happening in the world outside the estate, and little about what was happening on the estate. Everything she knew of the world was almost a year out of date. To her surprise, she didn’t care either. She had read the newspaper daily for most of her life. Kept track of local, national and world news. Worried about this and that. And now, knowing nothing about the events of the day, she was totally at peace with it. There were no crime waves to be worried about. Was there still violence in the Middle East? It was no longer a concern for her. Was this an election year? What were the political parties squabbling about? She smiled, realizing she couldn’t be less interested. She was a slave. Nothing concerned her except serving and obeying her Master. The weight of the world was not on her shoulders. It didn’t matter to anyone what she thought about events anywhere in the world because she was to have no thoughts about such things. All she needed to know was that her Master would protect her, care for her and teach her. All she needed to do was submit and obey for the rest of her life. Kim’s reverie, was brought to a sudden halt, by a simple Thanksgiving tradition question her Master asked her. “Kim? What are you thankful for on this Thanksgiving?” Kim looked at Helen, whose eyes were as big as saucers, it seemed. Kim searched for words, trying not to hem and haw while she tried to come up with something. She endeavored to speak with self-assurance, and not fear. “I’m thankful for a Master who gives me everything I need in life as a slave. A wonderful groom, I’m thankful for.” Here she put her hand on Mary’s shoulder. “Guidance and discipline to improve as a slave. And most of all, the attention I’m bestowed, so I can prove my worth to my Master every day.” She finished, then bent over to kiss Timothy’s hand resting on the table. “Helen? How about you?” Timothy asked, shifting in his seat to look at Helen. “Well, Kim said it very well. I feel the same.” Helen felt lost, how could she say anything different? Then the obvious occurred to her. “And also I’m thankful for a Master that accepted me when all others questioned my honesty about my age. I don’t know where I would be if not for Master.” Timothy went on to ask Mary and Florence, accepting Kim and Helen’s thankful reasons without comment. Kim and Helen looked at each other with relief in their eyes while they listened to Mary and Florence. Each of them knew that if they had displeased their Master with what they said, there would have been hell to pay. They couldn’t sound patronizing, and they couldn’t sound ungrateful. Truthfully, Kim thought, the patronizing was the bigger worry because she certainly was not ungrateful. As hard as her life could be as a slave with her Master, she couldn’t imagine it any other way.
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7/9/2022 1:08 pm |
Interesting picture. They look eager.
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It is so nice he gave them a good dinner.
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