“Hey, are you awake?” The man who waved his fingers before Garrick’s
eyes was naked, as was the other four behind him.
Garrick woke with a shudder. They were in a room, a giant-sized one. The
two-hundred feet high walls made it seem like he’d found himself in the
grandest of old temples, built for old kings with the dying labor of thousands.
However, the rustic wooden planks, the common dresser and cupboard and plain
chair and desk, they brought all the grandeur down to the reality of a common
room. A window above them let in sunlight. Garrick’s wrists were tied to metal
loops on the wall, their existence revealing that holding humans captive here
wasn’t uncommon. Garrick pulled at his constraints, realizing there was room to
move his arms. The instinct to summon magic came.
But when he reached out for his pool of energy, he couldn’t find it, as
if a blanket had been put over the only light in the room and he fumbled about
aimlessly.
“I already tried.” It was Martin who spoke, tied similarly beside
Garrick. He jostled his constrained limb, the forearms covered in a black
brace. “Hardgum.” The material was a known magic-suppressant, morphing to a shock-absorbing,
gelatinous texture when exposed to moisture and humidity, and hardening to a
dense, rock-like structure when allowed to dry.
“How did she get you?” The one who woke them spoke, a young man around
their age. He had long hair and deep dark eyes, a relatively athletic build. And
he was naked as the day he was born. So was the other four men behind them, as
well as Garrick and Martin.
“We rested by a lake,” Martin said. “She snuck up on me, stomped me
flat. Garrick, how did she get you? Didn’t you get my warning?”
“I wanted to see where she was going.” Garrick’s eyes trailed over the
roof, still in disbelief. “Where the hell are we? What is this?”
“You’re with Mommy now.” One of the four other men spoke, and it was the
deadpan look with which he said those words that confused Garrick. “It takes
some time, but you’ll come around to like it. We all did, and we can’t imagine
being anywhere else.”
Martin frowned. “Who are you guys?”
A blonde youth, the man put his hand on his chest. “I’m Slave One.” He
pointed to the thin-haired man with an oblong face. “That’s Slave Two.” Then to
the shorter, bald one beside him. “That’s Slave Three.” The fourth one was
stouter and thick-built, with a rich beard. “That’s Slave Four.” Finally, he
pointed to the well-built, dark-eyed one who woke them up. “And that’s Slave
Five.”
Garrick noticed how Slave Five also wore hardgum braces. “You’re a mage
too?” Moreover, there was a depth to the look in his eyes, a certain
battle-worn weight of having seen things. The four others carried themselves
with a childlike innocence.
Slave Five leaned forward and whispered to the two. “I’m Harry.”
“What’s going on here?” Garrick said. “Where the hell are we? And who
the hell is that woman?”
“We’re somewhere in the Koll Mountains, close to border to Eron,” Harry
said. “In the middle of them, where no one goes. The lady… you’ll have to call
her Mommy.”
Garrick snorted. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“I was like that too,” Harry said. “We all were.”
Martin gave up the effort of pulling at his restraints. “What does she
want? Money?”
“She wants us all to be happy,” Slave One said. “With Mommy, you will
never know misery again.”
“Okay, but how what if we don’t want to be here?”
“Everyone wants to be here.”
Garrick frowned. “Listen, I know those skulls of yours are empty, but—”
The large door opened from across the room. Liza entered, closing the
door after her. Martin’s gaze was studious, never having seen more than the
underside of her left foot. Her brown hair was combed and smoothed out into a
tidy blanket falling over her head and neck. The silken, blue-gray robe reached
midway across her thigh, revealing those strong, smooth legs, a remembrance for
Garrick, a sight to behold for Martin.
She smiled, walking towards them, a pulse felt in the wooden floor from
the padding of her soles. The happiness on the slaves, minus Harry, was
palpable. Their heads were raised and alert, their fingers fidgeting with
excitement, and their open mouths trended towards an upward, smiling curve. The
only thing left was for them to have tails to wag, and they’d be no different
than a dog seeing the owner return home.
“Are my slaves happy to see me?”
“Yes, Mommy!”
“I’ve missed you so much, Mommy!”
“Please, never leave us again.” The four of them could hardly stand
still, dripping in unified joy. Slave Five, or Harry, as he’d chosen to call
himself with residues of his former self still there, snuck in with the other
four. He couldn’t stick out with his dispassion.
Liza stopped about ten yards from them. “Nope.” She held out a palm,
then pointed at them. “Stay.”
Like dogs receiving commands, they got on their knees, holding their
positions. Liza stood on her heels, raising her feet and revealing the
underside. The toes and ball of the foot were smeared with dusty dirt, marring
her pale hue. She flexed her toes, making them yellow from pressure. “Do you
miss them?”
“We do, Mommy!”
“I miss them the most!”
“Please let us worship them, Mommy.”
Garrick and Martin exchanged disturbed looks, wondering whether these
were actual people, waiting for the moment where they would all burst out in
laughter and end this farce.
That moment never came. Liza snapped her finger. “Come.” All five, with
Harry trailing last, ran up to her and dove at her feet, rabidly peppering her
feet with kisses like two lovers reunited after years. Slave Two and Four made
their way to the inner side of her feet with a trail of kisses while the other
three were at her toes, One and Five on her left foot and Three at her right.
“No tongue, and hands off your dicks.”
“Yes, Mommy.” They were riddling her feet with their prickling kisses,
Liza having to restrain her joy and keep her feet still to leave them
undisturbed at their task. Then she threw a taunting smirk at Garrick and
Martin.
“Don’t look so daunted, my boys,” she said, the alluring voice befitting
a fox from the stories. “They were once like you, and then I trained them. You
will be no different. So remove the fight in you, the reluctance, and simply
take it in. Take it in and learn.”
“We don’t want this,” Martin hollered. “They clearly do. That’s the
difference.”
“Did you not hear me?” Liza snapped her fingers. All five of them ceased
their kissing and stepped back from her feet, awaiting the next command. Slow
and theatrical, Liza raised one foot and took a stride forward, followed by
another one. She stood right before the wall, bringing that row of ten globular
toes within spitting distance of Garrick and Martin. The sun blaring at her through
the window, she drew the curtains, her towering greatness demanding they bend
their necks fully just to find her eyes.
She snapped her fingers once again and pointed at her feet, and all five
slaves followed from where she’d left them, from where they’d obediently
remained. They were puppets operated by her will, even Slave Five who’d
introduced himself using his name, who was a mage, who showed hints that a
modicum of self-respect remained, was among them. It didn’t matter that he
hadn’t thrown out the most obsessive comments, perhaps lacking in the slavish
vigor the other four displayed. What mattered was that he obeyed all her
commands, that he too pathetically ran with the rest of them and got on his
knees between her feet.
“Do you see how good
my slaves are?” Liza stood astride them, those two gargantuan feet and their
lanky toes standing with an almost protective poise, sheltering its subjects.
“They were like you. And you will be like them.” Her toes scraped the wooden
floor with one distinguished flex. Liza picked at the loop by her waist and
untied her robe, about to undress. “Now, slaves. Let’s show our two new members
just how much fun we have around here.”