Chaper Ten: The last walk begins

It was cold daylight when I woke up again.

We spent the day under the tent. Suzanne and the man told us more about the world we were going to. The man had us practice wrestling each other. He got in nice and close when we did that... showed us where to put our legs and arms; where to put our weight.... He's really fast and strong when he wants to be.

In the afternoon we did massages. There was some lightly scented oil in the cupboard, and we put some mats on the picnic tables. We did each other, and some of us got to work with the man. Those who worked with the man got tied up. I guess he just likes his women helpless, but, whatever... He's got good hands; I liked it when he worked on me. It felt a lot different, a lot more... masculine, than when the other girls touched me. His pace was different, what he touched was different, and how he touched was different. He "felt" a lot more. It was like he was "sculpting" my body....

When we girls massaged him, we would get our hands tied in front of us. They would be tied in front, tightly at the wrists, but with a lot of space between them, so we could move our hands around. We were bondage slaves when we did massage, but slaves with some slack. I tried sculpting the man. He enjoyed it so much he pulled me on top of him. There I was -- face to face -- with my legs nestled between his. My oily body squoozing around on his oily body, my bound arms on his powerful chest. What was I to do? I kissed him, and he kissed me back. There were some ooww's and aaaww's from around us, but that didn't stop me from enjoying the feeling of his lips on mine. Suzanne came over and started massaging us both. I could feel the man get excited between my legs, it warmed me up, so I kissed him some more. It wasn't long before I felt something warm between my legs, and then the man started relaxing. He looked at me, hugged me, and kissed me lightly. Then he gently pushed me off him, got up and made like a gorilla, pounding his chest. We girls all laughed, but there was a lot of respect in that laugh. He was a man, and if... when! we wanted kids, we would have them.

Sunset came. We ate, and readied ourselves for another long walk. From the cupboard the man pulled a bag. It was filled with real shoes and socks.

"This evening's walk will be over some rough terrain, wear these." He said. We put on shoes and socks, then he tied us. I was so used to this that I didn't even think of going out until my arms were held securely behind me. This time he tied our wrists with our arms parallel, and from the wrist cinch slipped a doubled up rope between our legs. On the front side one rope circled right over my hip and the other left. He brought them around back and fastened them to my wrists -- my wrists were now pulled tightly into my butt, and the rope between my legs felt like I was wearing really tight shorts. When he finished tying each of us, he kissed us, fondled our breasts, and rubbed our pussies. We all accepted it; I found I was more than accepting it, I was feeling like, "his girl", and I was feeling very comfortable when he did it.

Jill was standing quietly, watching this happen.

The man tied Suzanne last, then hefted a backpack. It was big and heavy.

"What about me?" Jill asked.

The man threw down a set of shoes, but no socks. "Go where you like, but follow us and it will be your last step. There's food in the cupboard. I recommend you wait another day before walking -- let your feet heal."

Her feet were clearly hurting; she grabbed the shoes to her chest and held them there.

"Lets go." said the man, and we started walking off. I looked back once, and she was still standing under the tent, watching us go. I like to think that she was smart enough to stay put until she got rescued. We were, after all, selected for our smarts.

The first part of the walk went quickly. We were now used to mudflat walking, and we felt super fast now that we were in shoes. The man was not so fast; the backpack weighed him down.

As usual, the man would stop us for breaks. Now he was much more overt about "making out" with us on those breaks. He did a lot of fondling, and no one seemed to mind at all. Like I said, I was starting to feel like "his girl", and, in these strange circumstances, I didn't feel jealous that he was showing affection to the others. In fact, I was feeling happy that the other girls looked happy to be with him, too.

The moon was high when the mudflat ended. We stopped for a break. The man took off his backpack and rested. "I'm glad that's over with." he said. I had no idea what he meant.

He fished through the pack and pulled out a big boda bag. "Who wants a drink?" We had some fun as we opened our mouths and he squirted water in. Sometimes he'd squirt our tummies instead, and we'd jump back as squeal! It was cold!

Then he did something really weird: he untied us.

"There are skirts in the pack." He said, "Get one. The last part of this journey is up this mountain, and you will want something to protect your legs."

There were also some food packets. We lunched.

The skirt was a simple denim "cowgirl" skirt. It felt very strange getting into clothes again. I felt kind of "reverse naked", kind of strange covering myself while in the man's presence. As soon as I put it on, I wanted to pull the skirt off.

The man had us hold our hands in front. He tied our wrists, but left eighteen inches, or so, between them. We were slaves, but with a lot of mobility.

"Is this climb going to be that hard?" Alma asked as he tied her.

"In parts." the man said, "But this is the final climb on this world. So be cheerful, be patient, and make it!" He kissed her, fondled her, and patted her on the rump, but the pat looked muffled by the skirt.

"I hope we can get out of these again soon." I thought, then felt amazed I was thinking it!

As the man patted Alma, he looked up, and I could see a scowl grow on his face. He was looking at a solid bank of clouds in the distant west.

"We should leave now, and hurry." he said, but he said it quietly. We walked off the mudflat and on to an upward rising slope covered with desert brush. The going was fast at first, then slower as the brush thickened, then faster again as we found a game trail leading up, then slowed again as the trail steepened and got rocky.

The man looked concerned about the clouds. Finally, he stopped us for a break and said, "We have a problem coming. Those clouds mark the leading edge of a cold front. The weather is about to change. We have several thousand feet to climb up, and it's night time. Ladies, it's going to get cold, and I don't have additional clothes for you. So, gather 'round. We must change our plans."