Liz arrives at her new home

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This is another excerpt from Odyssey: Finding Home Book One, due to be published late fall.

Liz, a hostage-turned-slave after her side lost the war, has arrived at her new master’s home after being held for 6 weeks in a detention camp.  She was driven by Ryan, one of two slave trainers at the estate.  He told her during their journey that she would be expected to strip as soon as they got there – but she didn’t expect the order to come as she stood beside the car they had just arrived in.
 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

We’re here.” He looked at her expectantly. It dawned on her what he meant.
Here? Outside?” She looked around frantically.
Slave,when I give an order I expect it to be obeyed immediately regardless of where we are. Do. You. Understand?” he said slowly.
Her eyes teared up again. She had reached maximum overload and yet the humiliation was just beginning. She knew she had no choice but to obey. Slowly she unbuttoned her shirt and let it slip off her shoulders. It had been so nice to feel the familiar comfort of her own clothes for even a little while, and that was making it even harder to let go of them. She unbuttoned her jeans, though in truth she had lost so much weight they could almost slip right off without being unbuttoned. But it delayed the inevitable for another moment. She slowly slipped them off until they pooled around her ankles and she stood shivering in the cool night air in her bra and panties.
He watched quietly for a moment to see if she would continue on her own. She didn’t move.
“Need some help with your bra?” 
 
“No! Sir.” She caught a glimpse of his steely gaze and knew she was going to have to go all the way. She unclasped her bra and reluctantly let it fall forward off her arms. It had been nice to wear it while it lasted. The white lace fluttered down to settle on top of her other clothes on the ground like a butterfly coming to rest.
Her nipples had crinkled up instantly and she felt the tightness of them as she hooked her thumbs in the lace of her panties. With a sigh, she slipped them down and off in one movement, catching her jeans and shoes and pulling them off at the same time as she lifted each foot up. She stepped carefully on the gravel with her now-bare feet.
He stooped to pick up the discarded bundle, and this time, she knew she would not likely ever see those clothes again. 
 
Hands grasped behind your back, please,” he instructed as he stood back up.
Her eyes closed and her breath hitched as she stood up tall and did as he ordered. He said nothing for a few moments, studying. He made a slow circle around her, his steps crunching on the gravel, making sure she knew where he was as he moved.
Ryan Benault was a lover of the female form. Every curve, every swell, was a visual song to him. He rarely cared about age, or weight – there was a beauty in all variations, and if a woman came to him with doubts about herself, well, he might be young, but he wanted to help her find the grace, the beauty, the self-confidence that he knew lay inside.
The woman standing before him was no exception. Her breasts were his favorite kind – just big enough for his large hand to completely envelope, the brown nipples crinkled tightly in the cool October air. Her ass swept softly away from her back and back down to her thighs, the curve making an almost irresistible call to his hands for caressing. Her long blond hair was held back with an elastic, and without warning he reached over and tugged it loose, spilling the tresses over her shoulders. She whimpered but kept her eyes shut tight as she trembled. She was thin, he noted, and he suspected that she was much thinner than normal. Her eyes showed lines that she was too young to have, and though her hair hung wavy down her back, he had a feeling that the curls had more life when she was happy.
She needed more food, and less worry, and both were going to take time. He knew it was Master Thomas’ practice to start a slave out with very plain foods while she was in training in the slave house, but once she’d earned the right to move up to the main house, Greta would make up for lost time and feed her until all those curves had rounded out in good health once more. He looked forward to seeing them when that time came. Unfortunately, he doubted the worry would pass as quickly.
Right now, though, there were people waiting for them. Before she realized what he was doing, he wrapped restraints around her wrists and fastened them together in the swell of her back.
Using his large hand, he pressed on her folded arms and guided her forward down a path to one of the doors. The silent pair walked through the door, up the stairs, and down the luxurious hallway to an office door with no name. The carpet was soft and deep on Liz’s bare feet and she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass of a painting as she walked by, reminding her of her nudity, and causing her cheeks to color a bright pink.
This is Chairman Weiss’ office. Do you remember what to do and not to do?” he asked her quietly. She nodded, and he gave her nipple a quick hard pinch, making her yelp. “Yes, Sir, I remember!” 
 
He sighed. “We are really going to have to work on addressing Masters properly.” 
 
He knocked on the thick door and waited.

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