I began this miserable existence in darkness, and to darkness I shall again return.

Before I go, my heart asks; “Was it worth it?”

My soul answers from the Grey that precedes the darkness; “Oh yes. Yes it was.”

As the Grey surrounds and invites me into the darkness, the smile appears for a moment on my lips, and then it is gone.

She closed the book. The ending made her well up with tears as she thought about her Master and his final moments fighting cancer. For that moment when he passed she knew that it had not beaten Him, He had beaten it, and denied it the victory over his mind and soul.

She was not the first slave to be released at her Master’s passing, she knew of many who were free in the same way, so very many cancers taking the lives of young vital men and turning them old and frail.

This meeting she was going to was her first since His passing. she did not know what to expect. Her Master had always protected her at these meetings and without his powerful presence, she did fear that others would treat her poorly, but that was not the real fear in her heart. The real fear was that she would succumb to the will of the gathering and be once again enslaved.

Many Free women came to select girls for their Husbands and Companions, and even for their own use, only to be led away in chains, claimed by the Masters as property to be used and traded like so many of the beasts they looked down upon.

She had been bought at such a gathering. Taken by Master and trained as a proper slave, used and traded for favors as a Man may do with his property, but always treated well. Master cared for his slaves as a Rancher cares for his horse, or a Biker cares for his ride.

She looked out of the cab, the rain reminded her for a moment, of Master standing in the car park waiting for a moment of dry air before he would head out on of his country drives. Her thoughts we cut short as her destination was in sight.

“This is it.” she spoke through the glass.

“Yes Miss.” responded the young man behind the wheel.

As the taxi pulled to the curb, a doorman in what would be considered an outdated uniform lifted his umbrella and opened the door for her.

“The gathering has started, Miss.” he said.

Just what she didn’t need, poor weather, and to be late. As the damp air wafted the scents of dirt and mold into her senses, she remembered why she hated this city so much.

She moved elegantly, a skill taught to her by her Master.

“A slave must be pleasing, always.” he refrained. Lesson after lesson always ended the same way, “A slaves first duty” he would remind her, “is to be pleasing, always”. She would have to move silently, gracefully, speak with clarity of thought and tounge, smile silently when complemented and blush silently when bemused, and always, always, be pleasing to the eye.

She was elegant and beautiful as she handed her invitation to the usher. He was new, she could tell, as he seemed nervous about taking the gold embossed card from her gloved hand. She turned and removed her overcoat hat and gloves, handing each in turn to the bellman whom she recognized as having been the same surf that would retrieve her Master’s coat and hat when He attended the gatherings.

She smiled softly as she caught his eye. She knew the elderly bellman would know her when she left, and retrieve exactly what she had come with. He was never wrong. She knew she could leave her diamonds with this man and when she turned to leave, every stone would be in place, and ready to wear when she reached the door.

She held her smile as she turned to the usher, “Take me to Him.” she stated simply.

“Yes, Miss” he softly whispered, as he gestured the direction which she should follow him.

As he led her through the lobby and into the the Gathering Place, she could have, if she had dared, noticed the eyes of the men of the gathering following her movements. As it was, she could feel them regardless, as they had been on her when she was chained in her first visit, nude, on the stage, being sold to the highest bidder.

As she was led to Him, the rush of feelings came over her again. The slave girl in her screamed out to run. Run fast and far from this devilish place, into the rain, into the dark and hide forever away from these dangerous Men and their damnable cult.

She could not. Inside her also, was the calm, wonderful call of her essence, telling her that all was well. This is as it should be. Men have always been Masters, and women their play things. A woman’s place is to be truly desirable, so sought after, that she can not help to be slave to them and also to command them with her beauty as does gold and pearls command the merchants in the streets of coins.

The usher spoke no introduction to him, nor to her. None was needed. She was all to familiar with her host, as she had served him many times in her Master’s home. She knew intimately His likes and dislikes, His habits, His favorite tastes, and especially how he desired a slave to perform sexually.

The two naked girls tethered by collar and leash to his chair, each kneeling in a pose which she was likewise intimately familiar with, showed their fear at her approach.

Female slaves often feared Free Women for the same reasons that Men so often find them entertaining; they can sometimes be irrational and vicious creatures, and can command slaves to do the silliest things. As slaves there is no choice other than to obey the Free, to be pleasing, but sometimes, a slave girl being pleasing is exactly displeasing to a Woman.

“Did you bring it?” He commanded.

“Yes, My Lord.” she responded, her gaze looking away from his, coyly.

“I have decided that you should present it to the Membership.” He calmly announced.

Now the true fear showed in her eyes. “M’Lord?” she sputtered.

As long as she had been witness to the goings on of this establishment, no woman, slave or free, had been permitted to be recognized on the floor, let alone present such a thing to the Membership. Those Free Women who had tried had been instantly enslaved under Law. Those slaves that had been insane enough to try, or by their masters, commanded to attempt it, had been put down, as one would put down a rabid dog.

“This is not a trap. I swear it.” He said. “This is a time of change. A dark time. The Membership must adapt, or die. Literally. You will be recognized on the floor. The Membership will hear your report, and you shall remain Free.”

He stood. She curtsied. He moved to the Central Floor and she followed short at hand, her grace adding to His commanding presence. Her Beauty adding to His Authority, although already absolute and undisputed in this gathering.

As he rose to the podium, a surf began ringing a bell. “Oh Yay! Oh Yay! Attention To Orders. Criers Call the First Bell.” He abruptly stopped the ringing.

Upon Hearing the surf on the floor, Ushers repeated the call from the doorways and passages around the hall. Men and their nude female property began filtering into the main hall.

A second bell rang behind the gathering crowd and the call could be heard from outside the room repeating for five bells. The end of this audacious and formal gathering took some 5 minutes to complete and concluded with the surf calling the closing bell and the door to the chamber being closed securely.

From this point on, The Membership was in session. No discussion of events, permissions, procedures or plans made in this room could take place beyond this room. Violation of this ethic often ended in swift death, as was the Oath. Those not immediately silenced were hunted fugitives for the rest of their lives.

All this, was about to change.

Next Chapter - Order of The Sword