Masters Favorite Toy Ch 06

Authors Note: All characters depicted are eighteen or older.

The following story takes place entirely in the realm of fantasy. The story represents situations that are often non-consensual, degrading to women, and discusses the owning of human beings as property. These elements are meant purely to sexually excite, and offer no reflection of my actual political or moral leanings.

March 9, evening

Kat clutched at my stomach, wriggling her fingers up my skin until she climbed to the bottom of my left breast. She tickled me gently, and I responded by wiggling my ass against her. I sat in her lap while she squeezed me with her left arm. Her other hand clutched a beer bottle tightly. Next to us at the table, a nervous looking Yvette squinched her eyes in confusion.

"Ummm, I don't know," The young woman said, "Never have I ever... had a threesome,"

A chorus of groans rose from the table as Abigail, Margaret, Kat and I all took a draw from our bottles. Yvette was no good at this game.

"Okay, new rule, we skip Yvette," Abigail said.

"That's no fair, Abs, I could never make you drink," Kat replied.

After I made Margaret and Abigail drink for having been to Europe, it was Kat's turn.

She gave it some thought.

"Never have I ever sucked a dick that came out of someone else's asshole," My drunk girlfriend finally said.

Yvette's face twisted with horror. Margaret raised her eyebrows. No one drank.

"Damn it!" Kat took a large swig from her own bottle, as dictated by the rules of the

game. She was no good at this either, but in a very different way from Yvette.

"Does that mean you've sucked a dick that came out of your own asshole?" Yvette asked, disgusted.

"One way to find out," Kat pointed her bottle at Yvette.

"Margaret first," Abigail interjected, and we gave our attention to Master's favorite gold-necklace-wearing slave.

Margaret gave it some thought before responding.

"Never have I ever had sex without a man being in the room," She said. Kat thumped her head on my shoulder.

"Every. Fucking. Time," She complained, draining her bottle. I took a drag from mine, and reached for another one to replace the one Kat had just drained. She was eight deep, while the rest of us were on our second or third.

"They don't all have to be sexual!" Kat whined.

"We sucked your tits that one time," I interjected, prompting a set of confused stares from the other girls. "That's kind of like sex. There wasn't a man in the room then," I clarified. Margaret thought for a moment, and recognition passed over her face.

"Oh! That wasn't sex," she said.

"Yeah, Marcie, tit-sucking isn't sex!" Kat was yelling a bit too loud in my ear. I elbowed her gently.

"Chill," I ordered her.

"And besides, it was so Master could watch on the phone. It hardly counts," Margaret concluded.

"My turn," Abigail interrupted the dumbest argument ever. She looked directly at Kat, a coy grin on her face.

"Never have I ever had a dick in each of my holes... at the same time," She said. Kat jumped, almost tossing me out of her lap.

"You can't... no targeting!" She yelled.

Margaret nodded solemnly, the most stern response to an air-tight gangbang imaginable.

"You are targeting Katherine with that one, Abigail." She agreed.

Abby rolled her eyes. She took a drag from her beer non-confrontationally.

"Fine," She said.

"They don't all have to be sexual," Kat asserted again, under her breath.

Finally, it was Yvette's turn once more. The timid young woman glanced around the table, searching for a challenge of her own.

"Never have I ever, uh... drank pee during sex," She finally said.

"God!" Kat shouted, but the wind left her sails quickly. She took a long swig from her beer. That time, all of us gave her a disgusted look.

Margaret's phone chimed, and before Kat could scrape together some other foul debauchery, the head slave politely interrupted.

"I'm afraid we'll have to rain check the drinking game, girls," She warned us, "Master's summoned..." Margaret trailed off, confusion on her face. We waited with baited breath, except Kat, who waited with stinky beer breath.

"Well?!?" Kat was shouting again, and I shushed her sternly.

"He's summoned Abigail and Yvette," Margaret finally answered. The room was silent as we all watched for Yvette's reaction.

"Oh!" The young woman said in surprise. Abigail sat up in her chair. She looked across the table at Yvette.

"You okay, kid?" Abby asked, shaking her head in disgust. All eyes were focused on the nineteen year old girl. She'd not been summoned to Master's bedroom in months. Everyone seemed to be concerned for her. Yvette nodded, setting her bottle gently on the table. She was visibly uncomfortable, stuttering as she spoke.

"Yeah-,Yeah. It's the job, right?" She forced a laugh.

"Yeah," Abigail was apologetic, inverting her bottle and draining the remaining half of it. "No sense in making him wait," Abby stood up from the table, and Yvette joined her slowly, as if she couldn't believe it. They left Margaret, Kat and I in the kitchen of the servant's quarters.

"My turn?" Kat asked.

-

I put Kat to bed like a large, whiny baby. She was very drunk and very horny, but unfortunately for her I had no intention of babysitting. Once I had her settled, I went back downstairs and sat on the front porch swing. Settling in, I pushed off with one leg, then tucked both feet beneath my body for warmth. I kept my eyes on the Master's house, watching the big glowing square windows with dissatisfaction.

Margaret joined me after a few minutes. When she appeared on the porch, I stopped the swing silently, allowing her to join me before I shoved off again. We swung quietly for a time.

"Where's Katherine?" she eventually asked.

"In bed," I said.

"I thought she'd try to sleep with you for sure."

"She did. I didn't want her to throw up in my vagina." I explained.

Margaret laughed. A rarity for her. We watched the stars together. The Morgan estate was far from any population center, meaning we suffered very little from light pollution. Were it not for the light from the big house, we'd have a perfect view of the night sky.

"It's weird for Master to fuck Yvette, right?" I asked. Tonight was the first time I'd seen him use her for sex since I'd arrived. I waited for Margaret to reply.

"Margaret?" I finally asked. She took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Sorry... yeah." She answered.

"Why the change?" I asked, "Does he just feel like he needs to get his money's worth?"

"I think he's trying to make me jealous," Margaret confessed.

"With Yvette?"

"He stopped using her for pleasure because I asked him to. I was jealous. He'd had his fun exploring younger women anyway. He didn't like her as much when she wasn't as innocent."

I grimaced at Master's skeevy behavior.

"So why Abigail?" I asked.

"She was his first. He knows I've always been jealous of that. He's sending a message."

I looked across the swing at my friend. She looked sick, on the edge of crying.

"You can do better than him," I said. I reached out and took her hand.

"I-... It doesn't bother me," Margaret lied, badly. I could tell she was pretty messed up about it. She was fighting back tears.

"I'm here for you," I reassured her. She sniffled. Pressing a hand over her face.

"Fucker," She said, her voice full of hate. The angry curse had an unnatural feel through the usually professional soprano of Margaret's high-pitched voice. She broke, a sob escaping her. My friend dove across the swing, burying her face in my shirt. I started to object, but I felt the shaking of her body. Gently, I wrapped my arms around her as she soaked the front of my borrowed sweatshirt ('

Cutie with a booty

', courtesy of Kat). The beautiful Margaret laid her upper body across my legs, her face pressed into my stomach. I patted her back and gently reassured her for some time. She stayed pressed into me for so long, I began to seriously consider that she might be asleep.

Half an hour later, the low light streaming from the windows behind us caught the dazzling flash of red sequins appearing out of the dark. They shimmered and danced up the long path from the big house, finally approaching the servants quarters. Shauna stood on the stairs, wearing the most gorgeous red cocktail dress I'd ever seen in my life.

As she walked by, she cast a disapproving glance in my direction. Margaret remained across my lap, face still pressed into my front.

"This isn't- we're not-..." I tried to explain. Shauna showed me her palm.

"Ugh, stop. Your secret is safe with my indifference." She said.

My shoulders slumped. Margaret sat up, wiping her face.

"Sorry," She said.

"You're fine," I waved her off, "Shauna's above it all."

Margaret and I resumed our seats on opposite sides of the swing.

"She's back early," Margaret said.

"Really? Where was she?" I remembered Shauna's elegant dress.

"She sings at a private club in town. Earns some money on the side."

"Master doesn't mind that kind of stuff, huh?" I said.

"Not at all. He loves when his slaves show off. We make him look good. He'd be a decent Master, if not for..." She trailed off, turning her head away from me. She didn't need to explain.

We sat silently for another ten or so minutes. The night air was pleasantly cool, and I enjoyed peacefully watching the stars. It was past eleven when Abigail and Yvette came strolling up out of the dark. They were both nude, clutching their clothes in a bundle beneath their arms. I was reminded of my first time with Master, when he'd instructed me to carry my clothes back to the servants quarters. Some kind of weird sexual thing for him, I suppose.

"Hey! Welcome back," I called.

"Ta-da," Abigail gave a sarcastic curtsy, and then set to work pulling her clothes back on. Yvette followed suit, tugging on her signature oversized sweatpants.

"Did you have fun?" I asked.

"Oh, buckets," Abigail dropped onto the swing between Margaret and I with a deep sigh. Yvette shrugged, unfurling a T-shirt with an anime character on the front.

"It wasn't so bad," She said, "Abby did most of the work."

Once clothed, Yvette bid us goodnight. With the three of us alone on the porch, Abigail gently wrapped an arm around Margaret's shoulders. Margaret was surprised by the affectionate touch, but leaned into the hug.

"I know what he's doing, by the way." Abigail whispered, "I'm sorry. Breakups are hard enough without your ex being an asshole."

"Thanks Abby." Margaret squeezed her in return.

I'm so happy they're being friendly again. I want all of my friends to be friends, too!

March 12, morning

[Drawn in the margin: Chains and a leather whip, hanging from a hook on wall. A sign on the wall says 'PLEASE TAKE ONE.']

Margaret woke me up in the early morning... yesterday? Maybe. Kat was still hungover. Might be two days. It's all blurry.

After a quick shower and dress, I was awake enough to drag myself out the front door. Despite a prior promise to put my foot up her ass if she ever woke me up that early again, I dutifully followed my superior through the cold morning air on the walk between the servant's quarters and the big house. I groggily attempted to focus as she prattled on, but I missed most of it.

"Master's flying us out to meet him there," She concluded, showing me to the limousine. She politely held the door open, and I entered, still half asleep. She followed after, sitting properly with crossed legs and a straight back.

I threw both legs up and laid back, reclining across the seat. I fell asleep almost instantly. Wherever we were going, I'd figure it out when we got there.

I slept on the flight too. It was only two hours, and I'd stayed up late the night before. We landed in a metropolitan city, one who's skyline I didn't recognize from the window of first class. Had I been more awake, I might have paid attention to street signs on the trip to the downtown hotel, but on arrival I was completely clueless on date, time, and location. As long as Margaret knew what was going on, I was satisfied to be ignorant.

Margaret and I were in the elevator heading to our hotel room before I finally woke up enough to ask what we were doing.

"Master's meeting with a friend tonight," She explained, "We need to do our makeup and hair - we'll be expected to be absolutely perfect."

"Easy enough for you," I nudged her, giving a friendly smile.

"Thank you Marcie, you're so sweet," She blushed, smiling back at me, "but it should be easy for you as well... Master has selected the very best of his collection."

The elevator dinged, and we walked straight into the penthouse.

"The best, huh? I'm surprised he picked me," I remarked.

Margaret walked to a suitcase and several other small pieces of luggage, delivered before we arrived. She popped two latches and removed a black leather thong, which she showed off to me.

"Shauna is probably very grateful he likes you," She replied. She tossed the skimpy thong onto the couch, followed by a second identical one. She actuated the latch on another piece of luggage and removed an enormous makeup kit. Prying the lid open, she began scouring the shelves of the portable vanity. When she saw me watching, she gave a simple order:

"Strip."

I stepped out of my pants and tossed my sweatshirt on a chair. Margaret continued rifling through tubes of concealers. Once I was nude, she beckoned me closer, holding up different shades to test against my skin.

"Full body makeup?" I asked.

"Absolutely perfect," She replied. Margaret stood, pulling her top off over her shoulders and discarding it atop my clothes. Once she was naked, we set to work.

For several hours, Margaret and I touched up each other's bodies. Together we applied concealer to every mole and pimple, blushed each other's cheeks (Upper and lower) and helped fake our ways to perfection. I was right, it really wasn't difficult for Margaret, she's so perfect already, her skin is utterly flawless.

We were entirely professional. Our mutual nudity was never awkward, because we were both so professional. Her butt cheeks are so plump and so round and so perfect, and I got to touch them. Held them still while I slowly dragged a brush of skin-colored concealer across a hickey on her left cheek. Her butt is so perfect, oh my god. I wanted to lick her cheek. The left one. Add another hickey.

Anyway, I was entirely professional.

"What kind of meeting is this?" I asked, holding the leather thong out. I looked quizzically at Margaret, who was busy fastening the slinky straps which held the tiny covering over her privates.

"Mr. Laguarta is a pleasure collector and an important friend of Mr. Morgan's. We will be shown off." She finished fiddling with her belt and stood before me topless, her perfect tits sitting high on her chest.

"What top should we wear?" I asked, dragging my disobedient eyes to meet hers.

"Oh, Marcie..." She smiled softly, shaking her head.

-

None of the bouncers questioned Mr. Morgan. The suited men stepped aside politely, waving us through. Margaret and I followed closely on his heels, holding tight to the long peacoats protecting our modesty. Inside the club, we waited in a large reception area. The walls were adorned with sexually charged art. Women nude, in leather suits, tied to furniture and walls to be whipped, and in collars. Behind a set of heavy wooden doors, club music thumped, shaking the floor. I was distracted by female slaves who took our coats, leaving us exposed. I peeked my eyes to the side, checking out Margaret.

She sported an outfit identical to mine, save for her prominent thick, golden choker. Between that and her navel was completely bare. Her waist was mostly bare as well, covered almost none by the thin leather straps supporting her thong. Below that was nothing until her mid calf, where the top of her leather boots squeezed her smooth, tanned skin.

I looked down at myself. I'm not the world-class goddess Margaret is, but I looked quite nice with my tits out and a leather thong. We were objects for the viewing pleasure of whomever our master chose. It was really, really, sexy.

After a few words with the concierge, Master led us through the double doors. The smell, sound, and visuals hit all at the same time. Sweeping lights bathed the large room in bright colors, the sweet, pungent smell of cigar smoke was thick in my nostrils, and the music pounded in my skull so loudly I could hear nothing else. Gorgeous topless women waited on powerful looking men in low sofas. There were cigars, tumblers of brown liquid, and beautiful women everywhere. Most amazing were the dancers.

In addition to your standard, run-of-the-mill women on poles, cages suspended from the ceiling contained bare women, who danced and writhed for the pleasure of the audience below. With the lights so low, the displayed women glowed beneath the multicolor spotlights bathing their bodies in rainbows of pulsing light. I was given only a second to take in the sensory tidal wave before Master moved into the room, prompting Margaret and I to follow.

Every man in the place stopped what they were doing, every drink was lowered, and every single gaze was fixed wholly on us. The dancers and waitresses may as well have been invisible, and it felt GOOD. Freshly unclothed and ready to be shown off, Margaret and I absolutely

strutted

behind our Master, tits bouncing with each step. The room worshiped us with their unashamed stares. I was crazy turned on.

I keep discovering new fetishes at this job.

We crossed the center of the room between poles of dancers, around a set of couches, and near a billiards table in the back. Master stopped to shake hands and greet many acquaintances on the way. One man was receiving a lap dance from a busty young redhead, and pushed her away to greet Mr. Morgan. She waited patiently to resume her work when we moved on, grinding her ass against the front of the man's pants.

When he had a moment, Master leaned in next to Margaret, shouting to be heard over the music. I stood by dumbly, watching as a kneeling woman on a nearby table deepthroated an overflowing bottle of fizzy Champaign. A man held her hair back as her lips wrapped the neck of the bottle sensually, and she moved her head up and down, losing some of the bubbly liquid onto the table.

"Marcie!" Margaret shouted, and my attention snapped back to her.

"Please pay attention," She begged. I smiled and blushed, which was silly. I was the last person in that room who should have been blushing.

"Yeah!" I shrugged. Margaret laughed at me.

"It's not even wild yet. Wait until later," She said, waving me forward. "Come on."

I followed her around more tables and low sofas, past the man receiving a lap dance, and through another set of double doors. Two more bouncers moved to stop us, but Margaret gestured for them to get out of the way. When they recognized Master's head slave, they stepped aside. Through the doors, we climbed a flight of stairs. Margaret led us confidently to the top, where a long hallway held several sets of doors.

She showed me into a large, opulent mezzanine room, overlooking the debauchery of the main party. The window must have been one-way, because I hadn't noticed this room from below. The thumping of the music was dulled to a background level.

I gazed out the window. Suspended from the ceiling in the main room, a naked woman with stars painted on her tits danced inside a cage. From the mezzanine, the caged dancers were only feet away. I divided my attention between the beautiful bedazzled woman and my fearless leader, who was giving quick instructions while sorting through a cabinet set into the wall.

"That's the staircase down to the kitchen and bar if you need to fetch something for Master. The buttons on the panel summon club attendants, red for sex, green for cleaning or supplies. The arrow keys are for the winch control. Master's favorite scotch is in the refrigerator by the blue chair, which is where he will sit. He prefers ice, with two cubes in a tumbler," Margaret spoke quickly, retrieving a bundle from the depths of the wall storage panels.