“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.”