48 Hours on Blue Bayou Pt. 08: Julie

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New Home, New Laws, New Mission.
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Part 8 of the 51 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 10/21/2014
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Carole99
Carole99
470 Followers

For the best experience, follow each captive separately. Part 1 sets the scene for the capture and auction. Lisa, Pt 2, is the first to enter her new life. Autumn, in Pts 4 and 6, has a different experience. Julie, written by coauthor J Spe, is in Pts 3, 5, 7 and 8 so far. As always, please don't confuse fantasy with reality. -Carol

Julie, Scene Four: New Home, New Laws, New Mission

Welcome Back, Dear Readers! This posting (which comes after Blue Bayou, Part Seven) follows Julie's arrival in Hong Kong and gets her used, and used to, her new home, with new Laws and even a Mission Statement. Julie has a difficult First Night, but she gets focused on her first duty as First Lady.

J Spe

*****

Chapter Eight: Welcome to Hong Kong

I sleep like a baby, waking up when my biological clock says it's the middle of the night. The rest of the plane is silent, everyone still asleep. But then, everyone was on a different time zone when we left whatever island that was. I pad to the lav and relieve myself and then head towards the front where, I guess, I'm likely to find a stewardess awake.

I find a stewardess and one of the pilots. I giggle an introduction and find out that we're still about six hours away from Hong Kong. The pilot tells me we've been in an over-the-pole route, so it's still pretty dark outside, but the sun should be up in about a half-hour. We're probably somewhere near the Russia-China border, flying south. We will cross all of China to get to Hong Kong. He says, "I figure it will be just after lunch when we arrive. Boss hasn't been in any hurry, so we've used the fuel-saving settings for this bird."

That reminds me that I'm hungry. Susan, the new stewardess, fixes me a nice hot chocolate. Sharon knew slaves weren't listed for champagne, but I am not taking any chances that hot chocolate is on that list by asking. I give my thanks and pad back to my bunk.

The sun, and most everybody else, is up and moving when I awake. After a trip to the lav, I trade the nightie for the Calvin Klein and my sandals and am ready for service. I head to the stewardess station and down a glass of orange juice and a roll with jelly. I am now ready to serve whatever breakfast Sharon and Susan have ready. Sharon gets a call from Master and fixes a tray. I am detailed to serve it, and manage not to spill anything en route to his suite. Master is dressed in a fresh white shirt and charcoal gray trousers with polished black loafers. He is pleased to see me, I think. He asks, "Have you had breakfast, Julie?"

I answer Yes, but mentally kick myself that I've missed a chance to be fed by Master once more.

The landing at Hong Kong International Airport, the 20 billion dollar architectural and engineering marvel on Chek Lap Kok island, is routine. Our aircraft leaves the runway and taxis for quite a while until entering a semi-isolated hangar. The doors open and ground crews push movable stairs into place. I am expecting Igor or Anne to put me into Transport Mode, but when Anne picks me up, she simply guides me with a hand on my arm. At the bottom of the stairs, she says something in Chinese to a lady in uniform and I see two check marks go on her clipboard.

From the hangar, it is a moderate walk to the facility called SkyPier, where our group boards a ferry and heads eastward towards Hong Kong. We turn south under the Highway 8 causeway, with Ma Wan island to our right. A bit south and east and we can see Victoria Peak rising over the island. Then, past Telegraph Bay and Waterfall Bay, just north of Magazine Island, we turn due east and enter the estuary leading to the town of Aberdeen. Our ferry docks at the Aberdeen Promenade and we are met by a convoy of SUVs. There is a moment of chaos as different drivers call out for different groups of riders. Master, Igor, Anne and I wait for the last SUV, now certain that all our group has gotten rides to their homes or hotels.

Master turns to Anne and says, "Anne, you've done it again! Everyone got a ride and nobody got lost!"

Anne grins, blushes, and looks down, submissively. "Thank you, Master. Service is a privilege."

I'm watching Master's face and I'm sure I see an expression of great concern and respect for Anne there. I wonder if Anne is aware of Master's care for her?

The traffic is terrible, even for a city girl like me. Still, I don't see any accidents or people shouting at each other. We finally make our way to a small park-like block with two tall apartment buildings rising from a two-storey base. This is Master's home base.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chapter Nine: The Tour, Laws and a Mission

In the lobby, staffers direct our visiting Project Managers, their wives, and their entourages to the proper apartments. Master, Anne, Igor and I take an elevator that whooshes us to the top floor in seconds and leaves us in a large, airy entryway with floor-to-ceiling windows that provide a breath-taking view of the island. A few men and women are waiting, and Master greets them warmly. None is in livery. The men are in white shirts and navy pants, with the women in white blouses and navy skirts. Master smiles and suggests — but perhaps it is really an order? — that Anne and I have had a long trip and should go for a "soak" and we'll all gather for dinner. He, Igor, and some staffers vanish down a hallway to the left. Anne greets an older woman and they embrace warmly. Anne turns to me, saying, "This is Pat. She's been here for ages and will help you learn what Master wants you to do. Do you understand?"

My "Yes, Ma'am" is automatic. With that one question, I understand that Pat is a particular superior that I must obey. With that one question, Anne has told Pat that my status is "slave" even though I will sometimes be serving as Master's prized possession. Pat greets me with a small smile, as if to say "I'll be watching you," and suggests that a tour of Master's apartment would be in order. Anne and Pat rattle off a bunch of places for me to see, and Anne heads down a hallway.

Pat's smile widens a bit. "Wait here," she says and disappears for just a few seconds. She now has a pair of slippers for me and I change out of my heels.

"Thank you, Ma'am," is my automatic response, and Pat laughs a bit. "Please, call me Pat. Around here, everyone does. I thought a fast walk-around would be easier without the heels." Right away, I'm getting to like this woman whom I must obey!

I am more grateful as the "tour" runs through a series of bedrooms and salons on this corridor, which ends at a set of carved wooden doors for the library. It is a welcoming room, lined with bookshelves bearing enough books to keep me reading for years. I note the comfortable chairs and couches scattered in inviting groups but remember that that part of the room is off-limits to me. Pat notices, of course, but says nothing. Almost as an afterthought, however, she does point out a large padded area on the floor a short distance from a fireplace.

The tour descends one floor to a gym where I will do my workouts. The floor has a non-slip rubberized surface which will serve for the Pilates exercises. The cardio exercises will be done on a pair of treadmills, an elliptical, and a rowing machine. I am glad there is no stair-climber: I learned to hate those in the law firm gym.

For the strength conditioning, there are a few Bowflex machines, which use twisting rods rather than simple weights to provide resistance. The idea is to eliminate inertia, making it impossible to "cheat" your way through an exercise, while reducing strain on the joints and tendons. Each machine is set up for a slightly different series of exercises, and I'm sure I'll be put to work on them all in time. Pat notes that I'll have work for my back and shoulders (probably to improve my posture), my abdominals (to improve my "core"), and my legs (to improve my grace and speed?). A computer workstation shows a tracking grid to record my progress.

"In six weeks, you'll be amazed at your progress," Pat announces. I had used the law firm's gym pretty regularly, so I thought I was in pretty good shape. I'm smart enough not to argue with Pat.

Up the stairs, Pat shows me a large kitchen, with gleaming appliances, and a well-stocked pantry. I do not see any Food Service staff, but perhaps this is an "in-between" time for them? Down a short hall, Pat presents me to Anne, who is reclining in a small pool from whose surface lazy wisps of steam are rising.

"Welcome back, Julie," she says. "Give your clothes to Pat and come join me." I strip under Pat's sharp eyes and a bit of a smile. Perhaps I have passed some test for this lady?

In the pool, I welcome the luxurious feeling. "Master was exactly right about this," I declare, and Anne laughs along with me. "That tour covered so many rooms. Will I be working in all of them?"

It is an innocent question, but Anne waves it off. "Master will have your next-day tasks for you each evening. He says it will encourage you to plan your day more efficiently.

"Now that I've had my aching muscles soothed by this soak, show me some of the pleasures that this body will enjoy."

I giggle a bit at Anne's artful expression, and proceed to arouse any still-aching muscles with my fingers and lips. It has only been a week, but I have gotten to know Anne's body quite well. I work from side to side and from the outer parts to her central parts. Finally, with my fingers moving over her pussy and my lips fastened on her left nipple, Anne climaxes very satisfactorily.

I think about whether I should be angry or upset. I have just been summarily ordered to pleasure a superior. I have performed the task, and up to standards, clearly, because Anne is now lolling in the pool with a smile on her face. But, I have not been allowed any pleasure for myself. I have been used, right?

Anne interrupts these possibly traitorous thoughts. "Julie, we have some time now, and I'd like to put you more in the picture about your slavery."

Damn! That woman must be psychic. I offer a small sentence about wanting to be a good slave. Anne gives another wave of her hand. I'm finding that her waves are very expressive.

"There are several Laws of Slavery," she announces. "They haven't been passed by the UN or anybody, but slaveholders around the world generally follow them. Here's the First Law. Slaves Never Win. It follows from the idea that slaves are chattel, property, with no rights. All the rights, all the power, is with the Owner. Now, what the First Law means is that you never object to a command. You never offer an excuse for a failure to perform up to standards. If you failed, you failed. Nobody is interested in why you failed, that it was something outside your control. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am. No excuses. Thank you, Ma'am."

Anne gives me a quick look, perhaps a bit put off by the speed of my answer. But, you know, I'm not an idiot. I offer, "Please, Ma'am, this First Law is pretty obvious, isn't it?"

There is an answering giggle, and Anne pats my shoulder. "OK, girl. Now, if there's a First Law, that means there's a Second Law. It's also pretty simple: Things Can Always Be Worse. You think a correction with five strokes of the cane is bad? How about ten strokes? Twenty strokes? An hour in a hogtie? How about two days in a hogtie and you don't get any meals?"

I have an involuntary shudder as I see how simple and easy it is for the Master. Anne, I'm sure, picks up my fears.

"Julie, one of the corollaries of the Second Law is that corrections are proportional. If you just spilled some soup while serving dinner, you get just a few strokes or miss a few meals. The best thing about it is, once you've paid your correction, the slate is clean and the incident doesn't count anymore.

"Of course, if you keep making the same mistakes time after time, then the Master can say that this is a crime of a different order. Then, the correction will also be of a different order. Do you understand?"

I think for a moment and try to get a handle on something. "The slate is really clean, Ma'am?"

"Yes, my dear. If you think about it, it just makes sense. Masters always try to make the correction symmetrical to the crime. That way, the slave learns better. The point, after all, is to get the slave performing up to standards."

We soak in silence for a few minutes. Then, Anne continues. "This is probably a good time to tell you your Mission Statement, what will guide you in your slavery. It's also simple. You must always have your Owner, your Master, at the center of your universe. What does he want now? Need now? What could he need or want in the next half-hour? The Good Slave" — and I can hear the capital letters in her speech — "is able to know these things and perform them. For me, I got to be a Good Slave after many months of Master's teaching. That was when I realized I felt better about myself. I had pride and satisfaction. By then, I guess, it was too late."

Anne breaks off abruptly, lost in her own remembrances. I keep silent, not wishing to intrude on my mentor. I can see that my recent thoughts are not what my Master would want. They do not have him or his needs or wants as their focus. My mission is to keep my Master as the center of my universe. I begin to look forward to the sense of pride, of satisfaction, that Anne had described.

I try to change the discussion. "Ma'am, I've seen so many people about. Can you tell me about them?"

Anne gives a bark of laughter. "You want to know if they're all slaves, you mean? No, they're not. Most of them are regular people hired to keep the Enterprises going, one of which is this base. Here's another Law of Slavery: The slave Respects Everybody, Free or slave. In that way, the slave is just like any free person. Master is particular about this; you will show everyone respect.

"At dinner, you'll meet Charles and Edward. They're both Chinese and are major lieutenants for Master. Charles handles things for the Base and Edward is in charge of the Enterprises. I don't know how far back they go with Master, but they were established well before I arrived."

I file Charles and Edward in the front of my mind and continue. "Please, Ma'am, what is Pat?"

"Pat is another member of Master's team that goes way back. I think she came as a slave, but she's been so indispensable in this apartment that I guess you could call her the nearest thing to a First Slave."

My blank look prompts an explanation. "A First Slave is like a First or Top Sergeant in the army. They can do anything they want. In some Houses, the First Slave can even arrange for a slave to be de-accessioned. You probably don't know about de-accessioning. Here's the short form. You know you've been listed as an asset for Master. If you screw up badly and there's no longer a need or desire for you, you get unlisted as an asset. Since you're no longer an asset, they can do anything with you, even execute you. Once the decision is made, anybody can carry it out. Sometimes it's quick, but some Houses have a ritual for it so it could take a day or so."

I wave my hand a bit. "Please, Ma'am, I don't want to hear anything about this, whatever it is called. Please, don't let me get anywhere near this thing."

Anne strokes my head and down my neck, a motion I'm getting to rely on. It makes me calm and confident, the way I want to be for my Master.

In a moment, I ask the next question. I should have known it is one question too many. "Please, Ma'am, can you tell me about yourself?"

My mentor's eyes and expression go hard. "Slave," her tone is cold and flat, "that is a question you are not authorized to ask. There will be a price. Now," and her voice changes to a light tone, "how about some lunch? It's a long time until dinner."

I realize my trainer has let me off lightly and rush to agree with her. We dry each other, find robes, and head to the kitchen. In the refrigerator, we find fruit and various cheeses. The pantry provides bread. We boil water and Anne shows me how to brew a cup of tea for Master.

"This is going to be one of your routines. He's very particular. Since I've been here, he's experimented with several recipes for the leaves. He's also tested how hot the water should be and how long the leaves should steep. When you do a cup for him, you'll be doing it in the open, so you'll have to have an internal clock for the steeping time. He takes it American style: no milk and two teaspoons of sugar for a cup, three for a mug because it's bigger."

We munch and sip for a few moments. Then, I notice something and ask a question. "Please, Ma'am, I notice this is a kitchen, but where are the Chef and all the kitchen workers?"

Anne chuckles. "I wondered when you'd tumble to that. This is actually the kitchen set up for Master's office suite, which you'll get to see tomorrow afternoon. I suppose this is as good a time as any to introduce your daily office service to you.

"Master works just as hard as he plays. You saw how he relaxed on the yacht, right? Then, the vacation was over. His Project Managers got picked up and he and you joined them at the island for the flight here. Today, they're all getting their clocks set to Hong Kong time. They'll all be having dinner at the Casino or wherever they want in Hong Kong. On the plane, you served at the Opening Plenum, when they just went down the list of projects more or less in random order. For the next week, Master will meet with individuals or small groups to work out details of the next step for each Project. Master will set up a list each day and you'll shepherd the people into and out of his Office. This is part of being Master's First Lady.

"By the way, we call the list of meetings The First Lady's List. We did that a few years back as a joke, but so many things happened that we've found it a good tool. For example, if someone wants to get a sounding from Master without going up the regular chain, through Charles or Edward, the List sort of tells them to contact you. You can pass messages like Does the Project have a chance of changing the budget or timetable? Or, Can we meet without Mr. X there because he's always so negative or argumentative? Of course, Master always tells Charles and Edward about these back-channel items, but it keeps everybody's nose from being out of joint."

"But, how do I — "

Anne cuts me off before I get the objection out. "You don't, my dear. After you bring the message to Master and he decides on an answer, you pass it to Pat or me. We have all the e-mail addresses and phone numbers, so we pass the answer to where it needs to go, along with our Project archives. A word about publishing anything, especially on the internet. The IT guys are pretty strict about this. Everything gets encrypted, no exceptions. That's why you never send anything; you pass it to Pat or me and we'll get it done.

"Your job is to be the traffic cop for the Office. When it's time for the meeting to start, you usher the participants into Master's Office. You take orders for drinks or snacks or whatever anyone wants. You bring those to Pat and me here in the kitchen. We fix up the tray and you serve the items while Master is going through the small talk. Then, you're out of the Office and getting the next group welcomed and comfortable. Some of these men and women, even with years of experience, are still scared when meeting the Chairman of the Enterprises. You talk with them, pick up any intelligence, whatever.

"When it's time for the current meeting to end, you enter the Office quietly and collect the dishes and silver. The participants should get the signal that the meeting is over. If they really want more time, they can make another appointment. You'll hear about that through the grapevine.

Carole99
Carole99
470 Followers
12