Master's Favorite Toy

Author's 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 5, Evening, Continued

[Drawn in the margin: A rose, a sunflower, and a dandelion, all sharing the same vase]

Margaret fled up the stairs, and my eyes went to Kat. My beautiful, hyper-active, sort of friend, sort of lover, stared at me with wide eyes. I said nothing as our eyes met. Kat shook her head.

"I guess we need to talk about that," She said.

Kat had seen Margaret kiss me. It was unwanted, unasked for, and uncomfortable.

"I... didn't," I struggled to explain myself, which was difficult because I didn't really understand what had happened either.

"Let's talk upstairs," Kat suggested. I agreed, my heart still pounding in my ears. I don't remember saying goodnight to the girls, or ascending the stairs to our shared bedroom. With our bedroom door closed, I tried to process Margaret's kiss. Kat, as is normal for her, was abnormal.

"I have no idea where that came from," I said, locking my arms around my knees. I sat on the bed, confused, scared, and pleading with Kat to believe me. The two of us had never put a name on our relationship, but we were *something*, and I was scared she'd feel betrayed. I was scared she'd think I had wanted it.

"Margaret's pretty into you, huh?" Kat said, sitting cross legged beside me on the bed. Her bright, big eyes were wide with interest, showing no hint of malice or betrayal. I was so worried about how Kat might take it, I hadn't considered exactly why Margaret had kissed me.

"Oh, I don't know. I don't think so. I didn't think so," I repeated, confused. "I mean, definitely not. Right?"

"No, she was definitely into you. She had her hands all over you too," Kat confirmed, a surprisingly gleeful smile creeping over her face. My face burned with embarrassment as I remember the rather forward placement of Margaret's hands, one on my back and one my... chest.

This was not a line of thought I wanted to entertain. Margaret had kissed women before. Master Morgan's girl-on-girl fetish often necessitated shows of performative lesbianism. Margaret's kiss, however, had taken place far outside of any bedroom, away from any kind of fetishistic leering by our boorish Master. I could not deny reality.

"Yeah," I said meekly. Confused, I looked to Kat for answers. "Do you think she was coming onto me romantically?" My worried face and pleading tone was completely lost on the excited Kat.

"I'm hoping so," Kat replied excitedly, heaping on my confusion. It seemed only decent for her to be jealous, or irritated with Margaret, or even confused herself. Kat's speculative excitement was terrifically unhelpful.

"You... hope so?" I asked.

"Yeah. If she's crushing on you, there's a chance we could negotiate a threesome. That sounds like the hottest thing ever," Kat smiled at me.

I confess, it was not simply that Kat's jealousy would have been 'decent'. Deep down, maybe some part of me thought that Kat and I were to a point where I had earned her jealousy. Maybe some part of me wanted her to be upset with Margaret for kissing me.

"Kat. What the fuck?" My confusion and uncertainty were quickly being replaced with irritation. It was just so much to feel all at once.

"What?" She replied, "Picture it. You, me, Margaret, arms wrapped around each other, naked bodies rubbing..." Kat wiggled her eyebrows.

"I can't talk to you right now," I spoke harshly, angrily. Much to Kat's surprise, I snatched up my pillow and headed for the door.

"Wait, what's wrong? Marcie?" She called after me. I took only a second to reply.

"Please don't follow me." I shouted, overwhelmed. I needed space, and time to think.

-

I threw open the door to my old, shared bedroom dramatically. Yvette was kicked back on her bunk with a music player and some headphones. Beneath her, Abigail peered over the top of her reading glasses, surprised. I cut her off before she could say anything.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said. Abigail nodded, returning her attention to the romance novel in her hands. Dropping onto my old bunk, I curled up around my pillow and faced the wall, head rushing with a million thoughts.

I was so overstimulated, I switched through fifty different emotions in ten seconds. Fuck Margaret, fuck Kat, I hope I didn't hurt Kat's feelings because I like her, I hope I didn't hurt Margaret's feelings, actually, no, fuck them both, actually, I feel guilty for no reason...

Margaret's got feelings for me, I guess. Why else would she kiss me? She seemed pretty intentional about it.

And Kat's a thoughtless horndog. It shouldn't surprise me that she just wanted a threesome, but it did. She seemed so indifferent to everything, and that hurt more than I thought it would. I didn't realize how much I was falling for her until now.

I shrieked into my pillow, which barely muffled the sound. The only response from my roommates was a quick, worried glance. I was equally grateful for Abigail's mature, respectful distance as I was for Yvette's utter indifference.

Feeling every emotion in the world, all at the same time is exhausting. I lay silently on the bunk, trying my best not to explode.

Our bunkroom door opened quietly, regretfully, as if an inanimate object could apologize for its function. I twisted my head back and met the eyes of Margaret. She stood in the hallway, face glum and downcast in her ridiculous cream colored nightgown. My heart jumped as I waited for what she might have to say.

"Master summoned you," She was monotone and direct, merely fulfilling her duty as head slave. Our fearless leader betrayed no sign of the strange, impulsive romance from earlier. Margaret was very good at showing a professional facade, regardless of her emotional state.

"Promptly, please," She continued. I rolled out of bed, lowering my gaze to avoid her eyes. If she could be professional, so could I.

I started to walk past her and out of the servant's quarters, but she stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

"With Shauna," She said. I almost asked why, but it wasn't difficult to puzzle out on my own. Master Morgan probably wanted a threesome. Shauna would not be happy about this.

Across the hall from my bunkroom, Margaret had to shake Shauna awake. The petite woman groggily joined me in the hall, pulling a thin sweatshirt over her shivering shoulders. The nights were still chilly this early in the spring. Judging from the way Margaret hurried us, booty shorts and slip-on shoes would have to suffice in the cold.

It was a quiet and sharply unpleasant walk up the quarter mile path to Master's house. I had a lot on my mind, and Shauna was barely awake. After ruminating quietly right up to the steps of the mansion, I decided it would be better for both of us if there was some kind of camaraderie in our mutual suffering. Drawing in a deep breath, I smiled at the raven-haired slave.

"Sucks that we had to wake up for this," I said.

"Yep," Shauna replied. We climbed the stairs.

"What do you think he wants?" I asked, holding the door open.

"Pussy," She replied, deadpan.

"Maybe we'll enjoy it though. I did the last time I was with him." Well, kind of. Mostly.

"I'm not gay," Shauna replied, "I won't."

I swallowed uncomfortably as we turned down the hallway to Master's bedroom. Shauna had been very cold to me since I'd first arrived, but I'm not one to give up.

"Maybe he won't make us do gay... stuff," I suggested.

"Please stop talking," She said. I gave up... For now.

Master commanded us to enter immediately after we knocked.

I pulled the door open and Shauna followed me in. Master lay on the bed in the center of the large bedroom, his phone in his hand. When he saw his toys had arrived, he tossed it aside and stood, walking toward us. He was naked already, and the smile on his face showed the confidence he had in his body.

"Who wants to go first?" He asked, his eyes flicking between us from behind his cocky grin. I thought Shauna might appreciate it if I took the attention off of her.

"Me! I'm first," I eagerly raised a hand, though I wasn't exactly sure what Master had in mind.

I mean, yes, it was sex, but that can be done a lot of different ways.

He walked to me and kissed my mouth, his hands searching up under my shirt. After a brief kiss, he looked into my eyes and smiled.

"I love it when my girls are eager," He said.

He squeezed my boobs beneath my shirt, resuming our kiss. I reached blindly with my hands until I felt his cock, wrapping my fingers around him and slowly squeezing and kneading his flaccid shaft. He was quickly hardening. He broke our kiss, pulling away.

"Can't forget the Asian beauty," Master switched his attention to Shauna. I was glad that he looked away, as I pulled an involuntary face when he said 'Asian beauty.' I quickly fought back that feeling, trying to refocus on the task at hand. Second-hand embarrassment is one of the least sexy emotions.

Master wasn't as reserved with Shauna as he had been with me. He quickly pulled her shirt over her head, kissing and licking over her exposed breasts. With an expression somewhere between boredom and disgust, Shauna made small gasps and whimpers of pleasure. She would have been quite convincing had she not been rolling her eyes out of Master's view.

Mr. Morgan eagerly sucked Shauna's breasts. He released her nipple from his mouth and pulled her shorts down. With one hand, he cupped her pussy, squeezing and rubbing. Not wanting to be left out, I felt for Master's cock again, slowly starting to jerk him with one hand.

"Let's take this to the bed," Master ordered. I removed my clothes as we followed him across the room. Master sat on the edge of the bed, his feet on the floor, and beckoned me over. I instantly dropped between his legs, taking his cock in both hands. Gently, I kissed the tip of his cock, feeling his warmth and smoothness against my lips. I kissed down the shaft and back up, giving short licks on the way up.

"Sit on my face," Master ordered. I looked up to see that he was speaking to Shauna. He adjusted himself, laying back on the bed as the beautiful young woman climbed on top of him. She moved to straddle him facing the wall, but he stopped her and turned her around so she faced me.

I refocused on my task, taking Mr. Morgan's penis into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the head, slowly working my lips further and further down his shaft. About halfway down, I stopped when I heard Shauna's pleasured moaning.

Directly in front of me was Master's neatly trimmed pubic hair and his stomach, right below his well-muscled chest. His mouth was buried in Shauna's clean-shaven pussy, his tongue visible for brief seconds as it darted back and forth between her lips. His face was truly buried in her cunt, his hands holding her hips, squeezing her against him.

Shauna's stomach was toned and flat, and her breasts hung gorgeously, large on her small frame. With a bored face, she fake moaned. I was reminded of a bad porno. I sucked Master's cock enthusiastically, feeling the smooth warmth of his skin on my tongue. When I paused to breathe, I tilted his shaft toward Shauna with a questioning look, offering sixty-nine. She shot me the bird mid-moan and carried right on with the pornstar vocalizations. I bit my tongue to keep from laughing, then filled my mouth with Mr. Morgan.

Soon, Master began to thrust against the back of my throat, filling my mouth and gagging me. Unsatisfied with oral, he pushed Shauna off of his face, and sat up. I waited for an order, but none came. Instead, Mr. Morgan hooked his hands under my armpits, heaving my whole body up on top of him, his biceps bulging. We were chest to chest, kissing sloppily. I tasted Shauna's juices on his tongue and lips. With some more adjustments, I felt his wet cock slowly pushing into my pussy.

Master held me on top of him, crushing our bodies together. Buried deep inside me, he pulled my mouth into his, kissing me deeply. We both breathed through our noses as his tongue filled my mouth greedily. He fucked me hard, bottoming out with each thrust into my cunt. My abs and thighs began to tense as my pleasure peaked. Each thrust was pure bliss, his strong hands grasping me firmly. I was an inch away from orgasm when his phone rang.

His mouth left mine, and I pulled a strand of saliva from the air between us. Master rolled his eyes, waving to Shauna.

"Check the ID," He ordered. Mr. Morgan was still deep inside me, and I very strongly fought the urge to begin riding him. I rolled my hips on his and sighed, and he smiled up at me, giving a wink. Mr. Morgan appreciated my eagerness. His rough, strong hands roamed down my back to cup my ass.

Shauna rolled to the edge of the bed, reading the face of Master's phone.

"The county police department, sire," She said, confusion in her voice. Master's smile, and his explorative hands, dropped in an instant.

"What?" He replied, "Give it to me."

Cock still throbbing in my pussy, Master answered the phone with an angry swipe.

"Hello? ... This is he,"

I looked at Shauna curiously, as if she would have an explanation. Almost imperceptibly, she shrugged. Master's face screwed up in anger, and he quickly and firmly rolled me off his chest.

"Yes, I'll accept the call." His hard cock slid out of me as we separated, leaving me aching for more. He climbed out of bed, searching the floor until he spotted his undershorts, snatching them up and stepping into one leg as he held the phone to his ear.

I found my hand wandering to my vulva. I was enjoying sex, and was deeply disappointed at the cessation of our coitus. Shauna cleared her throat, and I pulled my hand away from my crotch. She didn't want me masturbating in the bed next to her, in spite of the evening's intimacy.

"For what?!?" Master shouted into the phone as he stumbled into the nearby bathroom.

Shauna and I sat on the bed, boobs out, waiting patiently for Master to return. I opened my mouth to speak, but Shauna put a damper on that idea real quick.

"I still don't want to chat," She said.

"Fine," I replied. We waited in bed quietly, naked and sweaty. Instead of chatting, we listened to the sound of Master urinating. Not as pleasant in my opinion, but whatever makes Shauna happy.

Mr. Morgan strode quickly back into the room. He now wore a pair of slacks and an undershirt, and his lips were set in a permanent frown.

"Marcie, you're a better talker than Shauna, right?" He asked. I was surprised by the question, but answered honestly.

"Yes, sire," I said. Part of me worried that I would offend Shauna by answering so quickly, but two other parts of me either didn't care, or assumed she would probably agree anyway.

"Get dressed," He ordered, "And Shauna, get the hell out of here."

I wasted no time following his order, but I couldn't outpace Shauna. Still nude, the petite woman snatched her clothes off the floor and ran. I pulled my shorts and sweatshirt on as quickly as I could, following Master out of his room.

[Drawn in the margin: Shauna, frowning deeply, with a T-shirt that reads 'I hate ice cream.' in her hand, a cone of ice cream.]

Good slaves don't speak until spoken to, and I'm the best (second best, actually, Margaret's marks are hard to beat). The wall of the garage was adorned with a peg board. Master scanned for the right set of car keys. He snapped up a set of keys and remote unlocked an old sedan. I was shocked to learn that such a wealthy man owned the old beater. I gave only a meek 'Yes sire' as I was ordered into the backseat. It was several silent miles down the road before Master had the inclination to speak to me.

"Marcie, you're here to fill the quiet parts," He explained, "I hate quiet bits in conversation."

"Yes sire. Question," I replied.

"What?"

"Do you mean the quiet parts now, or...?"

"When I pick her up. Talk to her when it's quiet so I don't have to."

"Yes sire."

I didn't need to know who 'her' was, and Master didn't seem to think it important to tell me.

For the second time, I accompanied Gerrard Morgan into the city after dark. Last time, we had been dressed to kill, in black tie formal attire, chauffeured in a limo. This time, in contrast, Master wore a slapdash combination of an unbuttoned shirt and messy slacks, while I wore a pair of booty shorts and a sweatshirt that I borrowed from Kat. And yet, despite the contrast in attire and locomotion, Master's anxious attitude was a mirror image of our limousine ride. He sighed nervously, he muttered and cursed under his breath. Master Morgan was extremely uncomfortable about something.

Well, that made two of us. With every silent moment, I replayed the scene with Margaret ten times in my head, imagining how I could have behaved differently to better handle the situation. I held conversations in my mind with Kat, doing my best to find a way to explain how her attitude hurt me.

Yes, the two of us were quite a mess.

The local police department had a parking garage, and Master chose a spot by the building's elevator.

"Stay," He ordered, climbing out of the vehicle. As he boarded the elevator, I watched him leave, my expression probably the same as an abandoned puppy.

With nothing to do but wait, I laid down across the back seat of the car, still cold, and curled up. Exhausted from the evening, my eyes slowly closed. In spite of my chilled body, I began to fall asleep.

The car door closed, startling me awake. I sat up quickly. Master was turning the key in the ignition, and the passenger seat was now occupied. Our new passenger wore a loose fitting tank top, with a sweater tied around her waist by the arms. Her brunette hair was long and unkempt, braided in places and a tangled mess in others. She had bracelets of all shapes and sizes on her forearm. She sported several tattoos, the details of which I couldn't quite make out in the darkness of the parking garage.

"Are you mad?" She asked, "You seem mad."

"Yeah, I kind of am. Don't you think there was a better way to accomplish your goal?" Master demanded. The woman crossed her arms as we passed beneath a streetlight, and I was able to recognize a cannabis leaf inked on her left shoulder.

"Rich guys like that don't listen, Gerry. The slaves in that plant were facing some horrible conditions," She explained, "It's gonna cost someone money to cut work hours, improve conditions, to ensure a safe and healthy working environment. So no, I don't think there was a better way to accomplish my goal. People who only care about profit only answer to a brick." She spat her final line with venom, daring Mr. Morgan to challenge her.

"I can think of an easier way than a brick through a window. Probably more effective. Less criminal," Master sounded exhausted.

"What's that?" The woman shot back, laughing incredulously.

"Call me, and ask politely," He replied.

I think both she and I arrived at the answer at the same time.

"...Oh. Do you own that plant?" She asked. Master drew a heavy sigh, squeezing the steering wheel until his knuckles went white.

"Yeah," He eventually replied, "I'll make some calls tomorrow."

"Oh," She repeated, "Thanks." A silence set in. A heavy, awkward silence, the specter of which I was commanded to banish.

"Hi," I interjected, "I'm Marcie. It's nice to meet you," The young woman whipped her head around, apparently unaware that I had been in the back of the car.

"Well, hello Marcie," She replied with a smile. She turned back to Master. "Gerry, did you bring a slave so you wouldn't have to talk to me?" She cast an accusatory glare. He said nothing.