Volunteer, a drabble of Tir na Cali

I asked people here what their favorite Cali things were. This came from a backchannel prompt

“I hear you volunteered.”

The woman – girl, the girl – was looking at Tom in a way that left him feeling naked and exposed.

Of course he was naked, except the steel collar locked around his neck. He raised one hand to it. It was light, lighter than he expected, but it was still metal, around his throat. “Um. Yeah. Err. Ma’am.”

Her laugh sounded like bells. It had to be an affectation. Or she was really All Star Cheerleader of the Kinky Slave-owning Club. “I’m not the one you’re going to have to ma’am. And I believe you’ll be glad for it?”

“Ah?” Thomas coughed again. “And why is that?” He kept his eyes on her. It was best to keep his eyes on her.

“Because.” She gestured, florid and flowery, and he had to look. “These are mine. And, while they enjoy it, I doubt you would.”

In the shade of a marble awning, in the midst of the biggest garden-type-thing Tom had ever seen, four slaves posed languidly. By some definition, they were wearing more than him – they had tinkly little chains around their wrists and ankles, an they were smiling, hapy, mellow smiles.

Thomas coughed. “No. Ah, no, ma’am. Probably not.”

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