The room was as Garrick remembered it, with the big cabinet containing its boxes and bottles and compartments of unknown items, the table with the straps to restrain someone, the poles on the ground, which Garrick and Martin had recently seen Liza use to ride upon Harry. They knew nothing nice would come of the conversation the two giant women were having by the door. The seven slaves were on a stack of blankets by the corner, an L of plush pillows lining the walls, and they received constant glances and even the occasional point of a finger as Liza described them to her in their hushed exchange. The seven humans were like a row of caged dogs, and Mia the buyer. But the fact that Mia only wore her beige panties and brassiere was another pointer, one of many, as to where this was heading.

“You guys happy about this?” Garrick said to Slave Two, but directed it to all four. “We’re treated like objects.”

“Not every day is great, that goes no matter the life you choose,” Slave Two said. “Goddess Mia has been here before. She’s a bit rough. It’s nothing new.”

“I miss Gloria,” Slave Three said. The comment prompted an admonishing slap on the arm from Slave One.

“Don’t say that. What if Mommy hears you? You know how angry she got last time.”

Martin pursued that comment. “Last time? What made her angry specifically?”

No one seemed comfortable enough to take the lead on the question, until Slave Four, befitting his broad stature and thick beard, spoke up. “Gloria is… um, a kind and sweet girl. The best customer, certainly. But I think we appreciated her too much. It made Mommy furious.”

Garrick remembered the story, the one of Liza’s jealousy. Harry had told it. Now, as Garrick stared at Mia, he saw an opportunity to provoke Liza’s anger. The hardgum around his forearms hadn’t come in contact with anything moist for a while, their texture leaning towards the hard and brittle side. In the endless string of improbable ideas, Garrick dared to let another one through, one of using Mia to inflame the pool of jealousy within Liza.

Parts of the two giants’ conversation slipped through, more audible than the rest of their words. Among them was Mia asking, “I count six of them. There were five last time I was here, and with the addition of the two new ones, shouldn’t there be seven?”

“There is.” Liza’s hand stroked down her abdomen, arriving at her nether lips. The index and middle finger poked inside and, slowly, retrieved its guest. The lips bulged out as Harry, legs first, was slimily extracted from his hot, cramped imprisonment. A few drops of her secretion accompanied him on the way out. His body hung limply from the ankle she held him at, his long hair drooping in tendrils. Her cunt had drained all the life out of him.

“He’s been bad,” Liza said. “And he’s not new either, he should be better. Here. Be rougher on him and the other two.”

“Happily.” Mia accepted him and took off her panties. Her womanhood was smaller than Liza’s, though it had swelled notably from the introductory worship she’d received at the parlor. When the panties were off, it was easy to separate her lips and make room for Harry inside. His limper limbs made it more of a struggle, but she successively poked him inside with her index. As if he were a key slotting into a keyhole, Mia shuddered with an instant click-like effect once he was inside.

“I’ll go and make some food.” Liza opened the door. “Call me, should it be needed. The room and slaves are here to please your every wish.” They kissed each other on the cheeks before Liza left.

The door closed. Mia’s dark eyes went to them, a wry smile forming on those lips, her teeth gnawing on one side. She started walking towards them, carrying a relatively thin build. The last piece of clothing, Mia’s brassiere, was removed and tossed aside, freeing a small set of breasts with large, brownish nipples.

Martin leaned in against Garrick. “I swear, I felt like I heard them talk about going harder on us.”

“Whispering amongst yourselves?” Mia said as she got closer. Her feet came onto the blankets and planted themselves right beside their little huddle. She straddled them, a pair of coppered pillars of flesh towering over them. Her face peeped down. “What Lizzy said of you two adds up pretty quickly.” The words were for Garrick and Martin. “You’ll end up like your friend in here.” She patted her pussy. “Defeated.” They saw the flutter across her chest as she snickered. For a moment, she just drank in the sight of them underneath here, licking her lips, and micro twitches could be seen on her pussy along with a focused breathing. The very act of towering over them with her nakedness was turning her on. “Finally. Always having to watch you little shits walk by on the street, unable to do anything. Look at you, small little men. Out here, you’re mine, my tools. And I’m your goddess. Say it.”

“You’re our goddess,” the four slaves said, and it wasn’t that Garrick and Martin were silent out of rebellious spite. They simply weren’t as practiced, caught off guard by the rehearsed chant around them.

“You will address me as such every time, do you understand?”

“Of course, goddess.”

She raised an eyebrow at Garrick and Martin. “You two really are slow, as described.” Mia walked over them and lay upon the blankets, her head on the plush pillows. Her legs were spread wide. “Slaves, get over here.”

“Yes, goddess!” They all jogged over between her legs.

“You two, the disobedient rats,” Mia said, glancing between Garrick and Martin. “A foot each for you two. And you better do your goddamn best. Slack off, be lazy, and I’ll make you pay, here and now. Got it?”

They looked at each other, then said, “Yes, goddess.” They marched off to a foot each as Mia continued designating roles. Slave One was on the blanket between her legs, tasked to focus his efforts on the lower half of her lips while Slave Two, who lay face-down on her lower abdomen, was tasked to specifically dedicate his attention to her clit. Slave Three and Four got a nipple each, and so the body-wide worship commenced.

Garrick was at her right foot, which lay sideways. On his knees, he delivered his mouth and tongue to the big toe first. Despite being notably thinner than Liza, she was a giant ultimately, and there was plenty of flesh to find on the underside of the big toe. It didn’t have the same fluffy, dreamlike texture, not as rotund and with fewer angles to place one’s mouth. But with time off the road and her daily hardships, having received several tongues the last few hours and now the close attention of Garrick’s, he gradually marinated those toes with his saliva to a more welcoming softness. He tried to do his best at the beginning, when her attention was the sharpest, when she continuously looked at all of them and muttering demeaning comments. With time, however, her eyes closed, arms up behind her and clutching the pillows she lay on. They lulled her into a dreamlike state, her body writhing with a strangely predictable rhythm, like a flask of water bobbing in the waves. The moans likewise followed the pattern, receiving a higher pitch as the minutes went on.

“Ah, you little slaves. This is the best relaxant there is. Gods above.”

That comment oddly managed to remove some of the sting out of this for Garrick. It felt less personal. Here was an average guard, who likely didn’t have much to look forward to, and here she got to be spoiled, treated like a queen. They were systematically kissing and sucking away all her worries, draining her body of the stress her everyday life put it under. Initially, her toes flexed in response to Garrick’s mouth. He had to navigate around it. Now they had surrendered, no reasonable level of bite or suction from his mouth caused her to retract. Her whole body settled down, only her pelvic muscles tightening. She was swaying still in her odd, trance-like movement.

“Ah. Aaaaaaaaaah. Ah.” A thick, gooey glob ran down her lips and met Slave Two’s head, coursing down his backside. It didn’t faze him.

“Get sloppy,” she said lightly. “Go wild, like dogs. I want to hear you.”

Garrick and Martin had to let the others take the lead. At her nipples, now further enlarged, they were slobbering over it like starving animals. Their piggish, exaggerated grunts were what she sought in her sick fantasy. They let their tongues out, making wild, slurping noises, throwing their heads about, up and down, side to side. They did the same at her pussy, and Slave One’s efforts at her clit left her tremulous.

Garrick and Martin were saved from engaging in that. Her toes arrested their heads as the orgasm was taking hold of her. She reached into her pussy and used Harry to masturbate. “Don’t fucking stop. None of you slaves are allowed to stop for one second, lord be our witness.”

“Yes, goddess.”

Garrick’s attempts were futile, he could only stick his tongue out from his trapped position to give her toes something to rub against. Though he was thankful not to be at the forefront of the efforts. Slave One and Two had to duck away from her two fingers slapping Harry in and out of her, licking humbly beside the actions. Not as explosive as Liza, Mia’s thick, lucid excretions gushed from her lips, though their lack of force didn’t make them any less oppressive to Slave Two on the underside of her heated middle. What it lacked in its range and shot, it made up in its thick, suffocating mass. Slave Two gulped some of it down at the start but surrendered those efforts when the waves of her viscous discharge continued, a volume several times his own body. It engulfed him and soaked every layer of blanket underneath. He prioritized his breath, wiping it off his face, yet had the trained, ever-dutiful programming left from Liza to return, much like a diver, through all her liquid to contribute his mouth to the symphony of sensation enraging her orgasm. Whatever stray splashes were made came more from Harry’s body, rapidly impaling her pussy, no more than a tool.

“Ah.” She slowed down, body calming, toes releasing Garrick and Martin. Harry was left inside those now-wide lips. “Almighty, I need this.” She peered down the length of her body, blinking her lazy eyes awake. Everyone’s efforts had naturally died down with the end of her climax. “I don’t believe I told any of you slaves to stop licking.”

A moment of pause was there. Though once it passed, they regathered their focus and returned.

A flash of life zapped across her post-orgasmic lethargy. “A bit slower. Keep going, but a bit slower. You didn’t think it would end here, did you?” They adjusted their pace according to her instructions. Mia smiled, watching the window and the morning light pouring through it. “It’s just morning.”