Guys I'm so so sorry for this late update, my grandfather died a month ago and with me starting University I lost track of time, I'll update soon the other stories too give me some time. Thank you for voting!
"It's high time we went and bought some proper clothes for Camila," Lauren announced over breakfast on the last Saturday of January. "We're invited over to Taylor and Selena's next weekend, and there's no way I'll have Camila visit anyone in oversized hand-me-downs. Anyone wants to come with?"
Predictably, no one did, so it was just Lauren and Camila that got into the car an hour later and started towards the Miami Mall.
Truth be told, the hand-me-downs weren't even that oversized anymore. Camila had filled out nicely since November, and though she was still on the thin side, it looked like Lauren's old clothes would be just the right size for her soon. They would never be quite the right fit, though – Camila's build was different from hers – and Lauren couldn't wait to put her in nice new clothes bought specifically for her. She had plenty of ideas for both colors and styles to try.
She was excited for the upcoming visit, too. Ever since her New Year's Eve revelation, Lauren felt like her attraction towards Camila was growing stronger every day, and she didn't know what to do about it. She certainly didn't feel ready to reveal it to anyone, especially Camila. But every time Camila smiled at her happily, or said "Yes, Camila" in that sweet, reverent way of hers, or even just looked up at her with eyes so wide and earnest, Lauren's heart felt like it was close to overflowing with feelings, and surely someone was bound to notice soon. Considering how much time they were spending together, there was a risk that someone would be Camila herself.
Lauren had to talk to Selena. Selena had been though this, so she'd know what to do. Next Sunday couldn't come soon enough. Until then, Lauren needed distractions, and shopping for clothes was bound to be one of the best there was.
Or so she thought – up until the moment Camila stepped out of the changing room in the first of several outfits Lauren had chosen for her to try on, and Lauren's jaw, quite literally, dropped.
Camila looked fantastic in slim jeans and a simple, well-fitted polo shirt. Her hair had been styled with a little product before they left, her bowtie collar sat snug and elegant around her neck, and she didn't look like a slave at all – just like a regular teenage girl, stunning with her bright eyes and a shy smile; a girl that Lauren would love to ask out on a date if she dared, and hold her hand, and kiss her goodnight.
Oh boy. This day was going to be torture.
Lauren cleared her throat. "Okay, the pants are perfect, we're taking them. The shirt is a maybe. Show me the red one next, please."
"Yes, Lauren," Camila said sweetly and smiled her beautiful smile, looking up at her from beneath her long lashes. "I'm sorry I'm taking so long and wasting your time on waiting," she added before disappearing behind the changing room curtain.
In the end, they didn't buy too much. Lauren loved a lot of what Camila modeled for her, but she suppressed the urge to purchase everything and chose only the best instead. Camila would need spring clothes soon enough, probably in a bigger size, too, so Lauren decided to save a good chunk of what she'd received for Camila's clothes from her mom for then. Right now, a couple of nice basic shirts and pants, and a pair of good quality shoes would suffice.
The main goal of their trip achieved, Lauren considered visiting a few more stores to look for some new additions to her own wardrobe. But first, a short break was in order. She was getting hungry and Camila looked tired, though happy. A quick lunch at Subway sounded like a great idea.
Judging by how crowded the food court was, it looked like half the town's population decided to spend the cold, snowy day shopping. Camila kept close to Lauren's side as they navigated among the tables and people, but it wasn't until they got to the slightly quieter corner where Subway was that Lauren noticed how tightly Camila was clutching the handles of the bags she carried.
"Hey, what's wrong?" She asked, concerned.
Camila shook her head, her eyes set down. "I'm sorry, Mistress. It's just a lot of people in one place."
Suddenly, Lauren realized. "Oh, I didn't think, you're not used to malls at all, are you? I'm sorry, Camila. Does it remind you of the market? Do you need to leave? We can leave," she said.
"No, no. It's nothing like the market, Mistress. I just got startled. I'm sorry, I'll be fine." She still wasn't looking up though, and that worried Lauren. That, and something else.
"Hey, we agreed you're not calling me Mistress, remember? Just Lauren is fine."
Camila finally looked at her, her eyes wide and earnest. "Oh, but I have to, Mistress. We're in public. It would be disrespectful if I called you by your given name for people to hear."
Lauren wanted to say that she didn't give a damn what other people thought of her – she'd long learned not to care – but the concern in Camila's voice stopped her. This was Camila's way of looking out for her, in the only way she knew how – by being the best slave she could be, for everyone to see.
"Okay then," Lauren said. "Thank you, Camila. Just please call me Lauren when we're not in public anymore, okay?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Okay. Let's go get something to eat."
"Do you want me to go save a table for you, Mistress?"
Lauren frowned. "What? No, Camila, you have to pick your sandwich."
"But... you want me to eat here, too?"
"Of course. It's lunch time."
"But Mistress, eating here will cost you money, and you have already spent so much more on me than what I am worth." Camila looked distressed. "I don't need to eat lunch, Mistress."
Lauren sighed. Would Camila ever let go of the notion she was worthless? Considering how long she'd had that drilled into her head, it was definitely going to be a challenge.
"No, Camila," she said patiently. "Of course you need to eat, you're still so thin. And you deserve food and clothes and everything. You're a human being. And I care about you. So please, come and choose what you would like to eat."
Eyes down again, Camila said softly, "Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress."
She seemed overwhelmed by the amount of options, but with Lauren's guidance and commentary, she finally relaxed a little and ordered a sub for herself. The tray with their food and drinks in hand, Lauren led her to a table, where Camila carefully set the bags on a chair and proceeded to lower herself down onto the little kneeling pillow provided at every table.
"No, Camila," Lauren snapped.
"Mistress?" Camila sounded scared and Lauren softened her tone immediately.
"I don't want you kneeling while you eat. I appreciate you being such a perfect slave, but get up and sit on the chair, please. I will never ask you to kneel for me, not ever, do you understand? Not at home and not in public, no matter what other people might think."
Camila nodded and obeyed without a word, sitting stiffly at the very edge of her chair, and Lauren hated that she was the one to put this upset look on Camila's face and make her uncomfortable. But she couldn't have her kneel. Just... no. She looked around, hoping to see more slaves sitting at the tables with their owners, to point out to Camila as a reassurance – they passed some on their way, but to her dismay, now there were none within sight. All those around them who had taken their slaves shopping with them – mostly to carry their bags around, Lauren knew – had them kneeling by their chairs, on the little pillows or even on the bare floor.
Two tables over, behind Camila's back, a boy around their own age reigned over a table while two teenagers a boy and a girl in identical navy blazers with red details knelt at his feet, thick black collars around their necks. Lauren sighed. She knew there were people who treated their slaves with respect and care, but the overwhelming majority did not, and it broke her heart. Lucy always claimed that this was what slaves needed, how they were brought up to be treated. And still she wondered why they argued.
Lauren turned to Camila again, determined to fix the suddenly dampened mood. "Hey, have I told you about the time when Harry and Liam had a bet about who could eat more subs here?"
Camila shook her head, and Lauren dove into the story that quickly turned into another, and then another. She chose funny, lighthearted memories, and soon Camila was smiling again, more relaxed by the minute. She even laughed once, a sweet, squeaky sound that went right to Lauren's heart.
At some point during her silly little storytelling, one of the slaves from the other table – a tall, compact boy– passed by on his way to the counter. As he was returning with a refill of his owner's drink, he paused in his tracks and stared wide-eyed at Camila who didn't even notice, focused on Lauren's tale. When the slave realized Lauren was looking at him, he set his eyes down immediately, trotting over to his owner's table.
Lauren frowned. What was that? Did the boy realize Camila was a slave? Was he shocked that she was sitting at the table and eating with Lauren like an equal? Why would he? It wasn't unheard of, though definitely frowned upon in some circles. Lauren watched as the boy he carefully set the drink down, then knelt again, but when nothing more happened, she turned her full attention back to her conversation with Camila.
They were almost done eating when a tall, skinny figure loomed over their table.
"Well well well," the slave owner from the other table drawled. "If it isn't my little Camila. I wouldn't have recognized you from behind, lounging on a chair like that, if Trevor hadn't told me he saw you – Trevor, come here, boy."
The round-faced boy approached them; as soon as he reached the table, he dropped to his knees on the abandoned kneeling pillow. Camila let out a strangled little sound.
"Yes, Master?" Trevor asked quietly.
"You were right, Trevor, it is Camila. And her new owner, I believe?" He extended his hand to Lauren, who only glared at him. " Austin Mahone. I was your slave's previous owner, wasn't I, Camila?"
Camila opened her mouth and then shut it, frantically looking between Lauren and Austin. He was perched at the very edge of the chair again, as if ready to drop down to her knees at a second's notice.
"You answer when a Master asks you a question, girl," Austin said sternly, and Lauren snapped.
"No, she doesn't. Not to you." She turned to Camila, who was starting to shake in her seat, and spoke softly, "It's okay, you don't have to talk to him. You're here with me, remember? You're mine." Then she looked at Austin again, crossing her arms. "What do you want?"
"Why, I was just going to say hello to my old slave. Sweet little Camila with her talented mouth. Don't you just love her ministrations? Of course, I was the one who taught her most of what she knows."
For a moment, Lauren was rendered speechless – which didn't happen often. A furious blush crept up her face. Austin took that time to look Camila over, her eyes sliding appraisingly up and down her body.
"You should take better care of your slaves, you know," he said. "She is much too skinny now. Which is a waste. I think she had the most perfect ass of all the slaves I've ever had." He looked at the boy kneeling at his feet. "Yes, even better than you, Trevor, don't look at me like that. You know full well how fuckable Camila's bubble butt used to be. Not so much now, I'm afraid. Of course, that's to be expected if you can only afford a used slave."
Lauren growled. "I think you should stop talking now and return to your table."
Austin chuckled. "Aw, are you jealous that I had your slave first? Is he remembering me fondly?" He turned to Camila. "Are you, Camila? Thinking of all the times I put my cock in your tight little ass and–"
"That's enough." Lauren stood up, her chair crashing to the floor with the force of it. To her annoyance, she was a bit shorter than Austin, but her glare made up for it. "Camila, come on. We're leaving."
Austin's laughter chased after them as they strode out of the food court.
"Are you okay?" Lauren asked as soon as they were out in the parking lot.
Camila had her head down and her shoulders hunched, which made her look smaller, so unlike the bubbly, smiling girl who had entered the building with Lauren that very morning.
"Yes, Mistress . I'm sorry, Mistress," she said quietly.
"Why would you be sorry? You did nothing wrong."
"I disgraced you, Mistress. I wasn't a good slave and you were shamed for being my owner. Please punish me as you see fit, Mistress."
Camila looked like the only thing keeping her from dropping to her knees was Lauren's earlier order not to. It had been months since Lauren had last seen her like this, so scared and submissive, and it broke her heart. She put her hands on Camila's shoulders, not caring who might see or what they might think.
"Camila, please look at me."
The slave obediently raised her head. Her eyes looked like liquid pools of misery. Lauren gently squeezed her shoulders. "Camila, have I ever punished you?"
"No, Mistress."
"Haven't I told you that I'm never going to punish you?"
Camila hesitated. "You did, Mis–"
"Drop the Mistress," Lauren interrupted. "There isn't anyone around, and even if they were, I'm no Mistress, I'm Lauren. You will never be punished while you're under my care, Camila. And I was not ashamed to be there with you. I don't care what that guy said or thought. You were doing exactly what I asked you to, and I am proud to have such a beautiful, perfect girl with me. I'd like you to remember that, okay?"
Camila's lower lip quivered, but her shoulders were straightening under Lauren's hands. She raised her head a little higher still so that she was standing straight at last.
"Yes, Lauren," she whispered.
Lauren really wanted to hug her, but they were in public, after all. So she just put her hand on the small of Camila's back and led her to the car.
"Do you miss him?" Lauren asked a few days later when she found Camila staring into space yet again, clearly bothered with something.
Camila looked up at her, confused. "Who?"
"Your previous owner. Austin." She tried very hard not to spit the name out like something disgusting.
Camila's eyes widened. "Oh, no Lauren. How could I miss him when I'm yours now?"
Lauren shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not really... experienced or... I don't know what I'm doing," she admitted. "I have no idea if I'm good enough for you at all."
Camila got up from the couch she'd been sitting on so that she could look Lauren in the eye – a thing so rare and un-slave-like that it felt all the more significant.
"Lauren," she said, "You are the best owner I've ever had. I never dreamed I could be so happy. Please don't ever doubt that. Please."
Her eyes were so bright and earnest that Lauren's throat tightened with emotion. She could only nod wordlessly. It took a long moment before she managed to choke out, "Thank you."
It was Thursday and Lauren was running a little late. College application deadlines were approaching fast, and he made a stop at Mr. Cowell, Miss Lovato, and a few of her teachers' classrooms after school to gather her recommendation letters.
Camila wasn't waiting by the door when Lauren entered, which was a first. She didn't answer when Lauren called either. Lauren kicked off her boots and haphazardly hung her jacket, in a rush to see if everything was okay.
No one else was home – Lauren's parents had a date night after work today and wouldn't be back until late, and Chris had practice. The house was silent, empty in a way it hadn't been since November, and anxiety started building up in Lauren's chest. Camila wasn't in the living room or the kitchen, and there was no sign of her in her room. Lauren ran up the stairs. Chris's room was empty, too, and the bathroom door stood open, revealing a dark interior.
With her pulse hammering wildly, Lauren pulled open the door to her room – and froze.
Camila was kneeling on Lauren's bed, wearing nothing but a pair of simple black panties. Her head was lowered in what was probably a respectful position – or would be, if she wasn't so very naked, why was she naked? Lauren squeaked and covered her eyes, but not before she noticed the dusting of dark hair on Camila's olive skin, her tiny pink nipples and the goose bumps covering her arms and chest.
"Oh my god, Camila, what are you doing in here?" She gasped, her eyes firmly squeezed behind her hands, just in case.
"I–" Camila stuttered, but then bravely pushed on. "Lauren, I... I know that I'm still too thin for your liking and not so appealing, but... Mistress Clara got a call this morning that the new blood tests came back clean and... I'm healthy now, Lauren. I'm not infectious anymore, I can safely service you in any way you want. I... I want to. You're my Mistress and I want to repay you for everything you've given me."
Lauren frantically shook her head, eyes still covered. It broke her heart – how could Camila still think she owed Lauren anything, let alone her body? Why would she feel he needed to do this? Had she somehow noticed Lauren staring at her, daydreaming, and thought it was because of lust?
"No, honey," Lauren said softly. "Please get dressed. I told you – I don't need you to repay me – I don't want you to think you need to. Please. Just get dressed."
If her hands weren't still firmly covering her face, she would have seen the way Camila's face fell, the heartbroken look in her eyes. But she kept them there to grant Camila privacy, and it was only when she heard Camila's steps descending the stairs that Lauren opened her eyes, closed the door and allowed herself a silent freak-out.