The Charity Gala commences#

Philippe carefully supported Mara as she crossed the ballroom, her dress allowing only the smallest possible steps. He led her to a tether bar where two other women were already waiting for their guardians. Philippe clicked Mara into place, then stepped back to look for staff and for Tom Holland, wanting to follow up on that earlier incident. Zendaya’s rebellion, brief as it had been, might yet turn into one of the evening’s more useful stories.

The two women beside Mara were unmistakably Saudi, their faces hidden behind layers of gauze that left only their eyes visible. The inner veils were dark and mysterious, covered by outer veils made of gold coins that chimed softly whenever they moved. Their hair was hidden beneath embroidered niqabs, and each abaya was decorated with floral patterns. The older woman’s abaya was washed in red tones with desert roses and Arabian jasmine, while the younger’s was white and yellow with flowers like Arabian primrose and desert marigold. Chains clinked beneath the cloth when they shifted.

Mara, acutely aware of the restrictions of her own dress, began the formal introductions.

Philippe Beaumont’s Mara.

The older woman answered warmly.

Abdulaziz Al-Faraj’s Layla.

The younger followed.

Hassan Al-Saud’s Amina.

Once the formalities were done, the tone softened.

“Mara, your outfit is breathtaking,” Layla said. “It must be difficult to wear.”

Mara signed with amusement.

Thank you, Layla. It is literally breathtaking. Ballet and yoga help me manage.

Amina’s eyes sparkled.

“That is impressive, Mara. I cannot imagine wearing something so restrictive with such grace.”

Mara’s bark-covered arms signed thanks for the compliment before she went on.

Your outfits beautiful too. Heard sound of chains. Symbolic?

Layla nodded, the coins of her veil chiming softly.

“They are real, and they are symbolic as well. The chains show that our guardians are wealthy enough to afford women who never need to work. Since the Change, it has become a matter of pride and status.”

Amina added, “They are permanent, welded on as custom requires. We wear them with pride, showing our guardians’ care and our commitment to our roles.”

Mara listened with interest, recognizing the familiar blend of cultural difference and shared female discipline.

Fascinating. Must require great dedication.

Layla’s eyes crinkled with a smile.

“It does. But we are honored to wear them, and to have help. Being chained means having a maid for many of the practical needs of daily life.”

The conversation shifted toward physical discipline and fitness. Mara, keenly aware of the constraints imposed by her stiff tree-like dress, started it.

Found long-term chastity belt creates certain challenges, especially for flexibility and strength. I rely on yoga and ballet.

Layla brightened.

“Yoga and ballet sound wonderful, Mara. I have heard they are excellent for flexibility. How do you manage the exercises with the belt on?”

Mara smiled slightly.

Adapt many poses around belt. It is matter of finding balance and being gentle with body.

Amina nodded.

“That is impressive. For us, the chains bring their own challenges. We rely on exercises designed around the areas we can still move freely.”

Layla elaborated.

“We do many seated and standing exercises. Resistance bands are excellent for working the arms and legs within our limited range. We also practice a modified form of Tai Chi, which helps with balance and flexibility without wide movements.”

Mara’s interest sharpened.

Tai Chi sounds perfect. Might try some of those movements. Difficult stay motivated?

Amina laughed softly.

“Motivation can be difficult, but our guardians support us and provide the encouragement we need. We also have a maid who assists with the exercises and makes sure the routine remains safe.”

Philippe returned carrying a tray of snacks and drinks. He offered Mara water in a bag and made a joke light enough to draw soft laughter from both Layla and Amina.

“You probably need plenty of water, Mara. You know, photosynthesis and all.”

Mara’s eyes crinkled with amusement.

Thank you, Sir.

The cool water soothed her throat.

Meanwhile, the charity auction had begun in earnest. Zendaya, despite her increasingly restrictive outfit and gag, still moved with practiced elegance. Her elbow and knee joints were visibly locked now, adding another layer of restraint.

She presented the items donated by celebrities while the auctioneer, a charismatic man named Charles Dupont, described each one with enthusiasm, his voice carrying through the ballroom.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our next item is a one-of-a-kind necklace donated by Harry Styles,” Charles announced. “This stunning piece features rare emeralds set in platinum.”

Zendaya lifted the necklace with outstretched arms, the stage lights catching the deep green brilliance of the stones. The audience gasped appreciatively, and several wards visibly encouraged their guardians to bid.

“We will start at ten thousand euros. Do I hear ten?”

A hand rose at once.

“Ten thousand!”

“Fifteen!” another man countered almost immediately, his ward clapping excitedly at his side.

The numbers rose quickly.

“Twenty! Twenty-five!”

“Thirty thousand!” came a call from the back.

It was Lord Hargreaves, carrying the quiet authority that made rooms adjust around him. Caroline, his ward, stood beside him with her veiled head held high in visible pride.

“Thirty thousand from Lord Hargreaves! Do I hear thirty-five?” Charles pressed.

“Forty thousand!” came another bid from a distinguished man in a razor-cut suit. His ward, dressed in an ivy-trimmed gown, beamed up at him in delight.

The room buzzed with excitement. Philippe and Mara watched with interest.

“Fifty thousand! Fifty-five!”

“Sixty!” the man in the suit called again.

Charles paused dramatically.

“Going once, going twice… sold! To the gentleman in the sharp suit for sixty thousand euros. Congratulations!”

The room erupted in applause. Nearby guests offered congratulatory pats on the back, and the successful bidder’s ward looked up at him with obvious admiration.

“Next, we have an exclusive vacation package to a private island in the Maldives, donated by Leonardo DiCaprio,” Charles announced, shifting smoothly to the next lot.

Zendaya, moving carefully on rigid knees, presented it with a flourish while images of beaches and luxury villas glowed behind her.

“Bidding starts at twenty thousand euros.”

As the bids climbed again, Philippe leaned slightly toward Mara.

“The enthusiasm tonight is extraordinary. The money raised will do a great deal of good.”

Mara nodded, her eyes shining.

Yes, Sir. Wonderful see such generosity. This will make significant impact.

The auction continued, one item after another fetching impressive sums. Mara and Philippe watched with deep satisfaction, both of them knowing how much work had gone into making the evening succeed.