I wake, feeling well rested and relaxed. I hear people talking from beyond my room door. I smile, feeling the silken sheets covering my naked body. After a quick stretch, I rise and exit my room, walking down the small walkway and to the pool area where I see the Master and the women I was introduced to yesterday.
"There is my Rose!" billows the Master. And to my delight, a few of the women smile at me, giving me pleasant good mornings, that I return in kind. I take a seat at the small nook everyone is sitting at. There is a pleasant breakfast layed on the table, fresh pasties and fruit, along with much needed coffee that is in a beautiful gold rimmed pot.
I am ushered to eat as I wish, and a thin hairless... thing, pours me some coffee. I can't help but to look at the crotch of the servile acting male, and to confirm what I already knew, he is completely smooth down below. Just like my former husband, he just has a little nub between his legs.
I must have been staring not as discreet as I was hoping, because the Master says, "that is Daisy's eunuch. The Frenchman I hired does wonderful work. Leave it to the French to know how to work on a cock!" he says and laughs at his uncouth joke. I manage to give a shy smile, not wishing to anger this man. But I have to admit, there is a bit of a rush in knowing the Master's full power.
"Oh, the thing is just so wonderful now!" exclaims Daisy, giving the eunuch a hateful look, "I simply couldn't be happier. Thank you Master." She leans over to give him a playful kiss on the cheek.
The Master smiles, "well, if they can not care for their wives correctly, then they should not have the equipment to love their wives correctly."
"I couldn't agree more! And you make love like no man, my Master," says Daisy. The other women sitting at the table nod and give smiles of agreement. I have to say, I find myself amused and aroused at the fact these women all simply adore this man. It makes me feel powerful that I was the one who received his cock yesterday.
We all continue to make small talk while nibbling on the sweet food in front of us, sipping the fine smooth coffee. The Master talks about the books he added to the library and he discusses how he has a yachting trip planned soon, wooing us all by his sweet words of lusting for us to attend.
The fact I am naked never really crosses my mind. As I nibble and listen to the normal happenings, the girls musing at the Masters words and the Master poetically serenading the women at the table, I notice how the girls sitting with me are also nude. It never strikes me as odd, as I have not seen them clothed. This whole place is a foreign land that truly inspires lust.
As a cup of coffee is poured for me by the thin neutered man, I realise there is also Elisia and another pudgy, obviously gelded man serving us. They stand at attention, but stand off to the side, simply waiting on the table as though it is a fine, expensive restaurant. This kind of service is easy to get used to. I find myself enjoying the lack of work and attention.
"Ladies," announces the Master as he stands, "I have business to attend to. Rose, you may come with me." The women at the table give a disappointed 'awe' in the Master's self-announced dismissal. They inform him how they simply can't wait to see him later on today. The girls smile at me, but I can see a hint of jealousy from Lily.
The Master reaches down and extends his hand in a very gentlemanly way. I grab his hand and suddenly feel a bit nervous about what the word 'business' actually means.
We walk across the island and come to a dock and he ushers me onto a small boat that is docked alongside several others. I don't really have a choice, but I suddenly feel a bit nervous being away from the comfort of my room. I sit under the little visor that provides a bit of shade and I watch as he sits in the captain's chair and matter of factly drives the boat across the blue ocean.
The wind whips through my hair and I can smell the ocean strongly. Within probably 15 minutes, the loud engine drives us up to another small island, similar to the one I have known. We dock on similar docks, and he takes my arm, intertwining it with mine in order to ensure his lead on me. He leads me onto the island, but this island is nothing luxurious compared to the one I just left.
This island looks like a jungle, but the trees are all in fine rows. I look and notice, these are olive trees. There are huts that I see, scattered throughout the island. They look as though they are made using mud, having nothing but decaying tin for roofs. The path we walk is well beaten from being walked many times before, becoming nothing more than a mud road. I can feel my feet becoming filthy walking on the bare earth.
We walk what feels like a good mile, his arm intertwined with mine the entire hike, until we come to the centre of the island, which looks almost like an old west ghost town. There is a big log building, one representing a saloon of sorts, complete with the swinging doors. I see a few other larger buildings, tin roofs slanted down and being held in place with large logs.
From the position we are standing in, which is elevated, I see something extremely odd that catched my attention. There are several great big industrial steel buildings, looking modern and representing warehouses, seeming out of place in this island caught in the past. There is another set of docks, but this one much larger than the ones we exited our boat from, and coming to and fro are stout men carrying large boxes.
"In here, my darling," muses the Master. He shakes me from the trance I am in, trying to get a bearing on my surroundings. I feel his arm around mine, pulling me into the building representing a saloon.
We enter the old fashioned swinging doors into the dark room, lit only with a handful of oil lamps. It takes me back, as I see a few women, wearing nothing but fishnet stockings and colourful jewellery decorating their entire body. There's a man sitting on the floor, playing an instrument that looks sort of like a guitar, but makes a terribly annoying tinny sound. There's a handful of stout men, all finely muscled under their thin shirts, drinking and taking turns on a hookah pipe. There is a heavy smell of body odour and marijuana filling the air. The are incense burning in the corner smelling musky and sweet, but they do nothing to cover the more powerful and unpleasant scents throughout the area.
I wish to look around and study more, but I am again urged by the Master to come with him. His white linen shirt and tan pants, perfectly paired with a thin black belt and golden buckle seems to bring out how filthy the place is. I noticed, somewhere during our journey, the Master had stuck a pistol in his belt! It's a large revolver, silver in colour with beautiful mother of pearl grips. I lean in closer to him to protect me, as he urges me to follow.