48 Hours on Blue Bayou Pt. 08: Julie

"Give Master some quiet time between meetings, about five or ten minutes; that's when you pass any messages or intelligence to Master. Then, you bring in the new team. And it all starts over."

I am admiring the simple but efficient way Master has his teams moving through his Office. Anne has more for me.

"You work out of a small office just a few meters away from Master's Office. It will have all the supplies you might need, plus some of the Reference Books Master sometimes consults. If Master has something to ask, he'll use the intercom to call you. But, here's the kicker."

Anne takes a deep breath and becomes clearly confidential. "You realize that, just because of his wealth and position, Master is a target for all kinds of people?"

I nod agreement. Master's Enterprises are world-wide, employing who knows how many people directly and by contract? Each of them would be impacted by an attack on Master.

"So, Master has a fob in his pocket. If he fires it, you get a chime in your office. Your move is to come to Master's Office right away, just like you'd be coming for the dishes. But, this time, you leave the door wide open. If you see trouble, the alarm word is 'Pee.' You scream it loud and long and then get out of the way. Security has people who will come and take care of the situation. Do you understand?"

I don't have to be told this is the most important time this question has been asked. "Yes, Ma'am. Door chime, leave door wide open, scream 'Pee,' and get out of the way. Thank you, Ma'am." I'm sure Anne and I hope we never have to use this maneuver. She didn't say it, but we both know the "get out of the way" line means that Security is going to come in guns blazing. If it comes to this, then the Security team is also aware that the opposition will be firing as well.

A glance out of the apartment windows shows the sun getting low to the horizon. Anne says we have time for a nap, so I head to my bedroom — can you imagine a slave having her own bedroom? The bed looks imperial after the cot on the yacht. I am asleep in seconds.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chapter Ten: Dinner and Plan Review

It is the click of the door lock that awakens me. It may be my bedroom, but I'm still Master's slave. Anne and Pat come bouncing in and we all go for a shower. This one is big enough for all three of us to play, but, again, it is mostly my service. We dry each other and Pat starts doing my hair, which has just been kept in a ponytail since the auction.

Having someone do your hair, let me tell you, is one of the most sensuous but not erotic feelings you can have. As a very junior executive in the law firm, it was about the only luxury I allowed myself.

Anne is in my dresser to select a bra and panty set: lacy and silky, but not racy. She moves to the closet where she runs through a few hangers of dresses. She picks a light yellow shirtwaist dress with short sleeves and a hem just above my knees. I am again amazed that Master's teams have prepared so well for my arrival. Again, the dress is classically fashionable without being seductive. I could have worn it on Casual Fridays at the law firm. A pair of low heels completes the ensemble.

Not quite. When we are ready, Pat says "Transport Mode," and I turn for the handcuffs. Anne senses my tugs on the bracelets and pats me on the shoulder. "Julie, we do this to get you accustomed to the rapid shifts you are going to have to make between slave and First Lady. This is for your training, and Pat and I think you're doing quite well. Do you understand?"

What can I say? Inside, I'm upset; don't they trust me? Where could I run away to, anyway? But my training, especially the talk Anne gave me about the Laws and my Mission Statement, take over and I give a satisfactory answer. Both my mentors, Anne and Pat, really seem dedicated to Master. I wonder if I'll ascend that peak some time.

Master's Dining Room is a bit more spacious than the Office Prep Kitchen and presents marvelous aromas as we march down the hallway. The table is oval, with a damask cloth and sparkling china, stemware (except for Anne, Pat, and me), and silverware. Master has me on his left, with Anne on his right. After Anne is Igor and then Pat. To my left are Charles and Edward. Charles is the taller and Edward is the rounder; both offer friendly greetings and tell me they are looking forward to our working together. Pat releases the handcuffs when I am ready to sit.

As soon as we are seated, Master says a word of thanks for the food and Chef presents a garden salad, lightly dressed with a sweet and spicy dressing. The table talk is mostly about small items — we expect good weather while the Project Managers are here, some amusing stories from the plane trip that collected the Managers, and some tidbits of social gossip from Hong Kong's society.

The main course is a honey and spice baked salmon. The fillets are moist, tender, and flake on the fork. There are several guesses as to the spices. The rice has a coconut taste and the steamed carrots are just short of crunchy. Everyone enjoys the dish, and calls for Chef to come out for a bow. He is, of course, pleased that his first dinner on Master's return is a success. About the spices, he waves his hand and says, "Oh, you know, nothing special, a bit of honey, lots of garlic, olive oil, some white wine vinegar, and then a bit of thyme, salt, and maybe even some black pepper."

Right, nothing special.

For a moment, I wonder if the "white wine vinegar" is one of the alcohol products slaves are supposed not to be able to take. Then, it's obvious. It isn't wine any longer.

Dessert is ice cream for the others, red velvet cake for me. I'm so impressed that Chef even remembered that a new slave would be here that I beam as the wait staff collects the last dishes. Master, remembering my first dinner with the crew on the yacht, says, "I'll be sure to tell Chef you enjoyed his dinner." We both giggle a bit and, of course, Master makes me tell the story behind the joke.

Anne does the tea ceremony for Master, herself, Charles, Edward and me, while Igor and Pat work the espresso machine in the kitchen. I pay attention to Anne's hands while she does this, because I see how she uses gestures like a magician about to produce a rabbit from his hat. This girl has a talent for this! I am again amazed when the cup she passes me has absolutely no leaves escaped from the pot. I add the two teaspoons of sugar and find the tea too sweet for my taste. But, if my Master wants it that way, his slave will serve it that way.

Master asks Charles about the plan for tomorrow. Charles grins and says almost every wife has asked him about it also. He ticks off the participants. "We have 45 Project Managers and assistants here. There are an even dozen wives, one husband, and two significant others. There also are, by the way, four teenagers and six infants or toddlers. I've hired a counselor from one of the colleges to show the teens some of Hong Kong's cultural treasures as well as our beaches. He's got a sailboat, so they'll get to race around the Harbour and a few bays during the week. Security has a couple of staff who will see the kids to a few clubs on evenings when they're not with their parents. The Packet that went out with the invitations was explicit about good behaviour. I think Security has already had a word with each kid, explaining that, if they get arrested, nobody here will remember them.

"We hired a nurse to help with the toddlers. She's seen each of them and checked their temperatures. None have a fever, so we're hoping not to have anyone get sick.

"The big trip tomorrow morning is to the Mall at Pacific Place. They sent us some maps of the store layout, so the ladies seem ready to shop. Anne and I will have Enterprise cards to pick up the tabs. Hopefully, everyone will be back in time for the Festive Dinner planned for the Casino tomorrow evening."

Edward picks up the schedule. "Now, for the Managers and the assistants they brought with them, we have meeting rooms all assigned in the Casino and the Day 1 The First Lady's List was part of the stuff they got on checking in. You'll have meetings from 1300 to 1630, mostly a half-hour each, with the Managers you asked for. Dinner is scheduled for 1800, so everyone should have time for a nap or a small workout. The gym and pool in the Casino are staffed up. We added two certified personal trainers for the week and one of them recommended a family physician for 'just in case' stuff."

Master looks at Anne. "I've got the list of clothes that we'll try to get for Julie. The stuff we ordered from the yacht all looks nice on her. With the mixing and matching, she should be able to go all week without repeating any outfit. It's only the shoes I'm a bit concerned about; I'd like more colors to go with the dresses. We'll tackle that at the Mall." Master looks satisfied and Anne smiles at his approval.

Master looks thoughtful for a moment and turns to Pat. "My dear, it looks like you're the cavalry in reserve tomorrow morning. Anything you need?"

Pat, I knew, had done this a few dozen times. I wasn't expecting her to announce any problems. "Master, the only thing not already in place is the flowers for the conference rooms. The florist delivered the items for the Managers' rooms, but didn't have the whole order. He swears this stuff will be here and in the rooms by 0800 or, he says, you can have his wife."

Again, I am astounded. They were having flowers in the meeting rooms? My law firm had flowers in the office only on Christmas. And the guffaws when Pat said about the florist's wife?

Pat turns to me and explains. "The florist's wife is a nice lady and really smart about arrangements, but she's about as wide as she's tall and the florist has a running joke about how he's trying to replace her with a new model. Actually, they're still in as much love as when they got married, so she takes the jokes with good grace. She's actually a good part of their success, and I'm sure her husband knows that."

Master turns to Igor. "Anything?"

Igor shakes his head. "Martin, we've done so much more preparation this Roundup that there's nothing I can think of. I think I'll be most useful working with Pat this morning. The IT guys have changed all the passwords and plan to change them each night. They've got everyone tuned up on the encryptions and the anti-hacking software. And, when you add in the background, where it looks like most of the opposition is busy with their own problems, it looks like a quiet week."

Master gives a short laugh. "I've heard that line before. OK, then, let's everybody get a good night's sleep. Breakfast will be ready here at 0700 or in the Casino at 0800."

He turns to me with a smile and I can't help but grin back. "Julie, I'd like you to spend an hour or so with Edward. He's been the one to introduce the Chinese language to our newcomers and I'd like you to start learning some things that you will use here."

I'm a bit shocked. Master didn't ask the question: Do you understand? Of course, how could anyone not understand: go with Edward and start learning Chinese. Still, I wonder if it means Master is beginning to see his slave as at least a little trustworthy and reliable? I'd really like that.

Edward and I talk about language in general, and about Chinese in particular for about an hour, although it seems much less. Pat comes for me and we do the Transport Mode thing in front of Edward. I force down the feeling of humiliation and Edward gives me a pat on the shoulder.

Pat sees me to my room and removes the cuffs. As I'm undressing, she starts, "Julie, it's been only the first day, but I want to tell you something. I've seen several new slaves over the years. None of them has been so calm and focused as you. Whatever your background, whatever the training on the yacht, you've behaved like you understand this crazy life and you're planning to do what Master needs, what needs to be done to make everything succeed. That's a tremendous advantage when it comes to actually doing what Master needs. I'd say you're going to be a jewel this year or so."

Pat doesn't wait for my answer. Actually, I'm so surprised by her remark that I don't have an answer. She rummages in the top drawer of my dresser and comes to me with a mass of metal.

"For tonight, the Protocol calls for this introduction to the hardware." She reaches for my left nipple and rubs, twists, and pinches the nub until it's fully engorged and I'm getting aroused. She applies the nipple clamp, the kind that looks like a pair of tweezers, and slides the locking ring up to secure the clamp. In just a few moments, my right nipple is similarly captured. A delicate chain links the two clamps.

Pat is not finished. "Lie down on the bed, Julie." Pat moves me a bit lower on the bed and brings a leather cuff up and wraps it on my left wrist. The cuff is chained to the side of the bed. Similar restraint is put on my right wrist. I am spread almost like a starfish.

Pat checks that the clamps are not too tight, smiles at me, and says, "Have a good night's sleep. You've got a wake-up call at 0600 for a short gym session before breakfast and getting ready for the Mall."

I hear the door lock click as she leaves.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chapter Eleven: Nightmare

I'm locked in with no immediate responsibilities beyond learning to tolerate the pain from the nipple clamps. It is a constant pain, personal, aggressive, like a demon burying a stake in my chest. I'm thankful that Pat chained my arms out to the side. If she'd gone to the headboard, my breasts would be stretched and the pain would probably be much worse. I breathe deeply and try to relax, to sink into the pain. I focus on the pillow; on the yacht, I had folded a towel for my head. I'm sure I'm asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

Then, I am awake, or perhaps dreaming? I am outside in a meadow, surrounded by flowers. I am standing between two young trees, saplings. My arms are raised by chains running from the leather cuffs on my wrists up to the trees. My legs are spread wide by cuffs also chained to the saplings. I feel like an acolyte to the sun. There is some music playing, dance tunes, I think.

The meadow begins to fill with people and I am more sure I am dreaming. I cannot see their faces, but I hear their murmuring. None approach me and I wonder who they are.

The music changes, becoming more martial. The crowd seems more energetic. From someone directly in front of me, a small sack is launched at me, hitting me in the abdomen. It is like a punch, but not very hard. The sack contains some candy, I think, because some red, sticky fluid splats across my abdomen. The crowd cheers and waves something. I look hard and make out slingshots of various sizes and shapes.

Another sack flies toward me. I try to dodge, but the chains hold me almost immobile. This one hits my chest, knocking the breath from me for a moment. There is a susurration from the crowd, as if they are sharing the settings on their slingshots. Soon, the sacks of candy are flying at me like missiles. I can dodge the ones near my head, but the rest of my body is soon marked by the red splashes. A sack that hits my breasts, where the nipple clamps are still affixed, elicits a musical siren for a few moments. Each of these strikes brings forth cheers from the crowd.

I am impressed by the discipline in the crowd. There is no pushing or shoving. Each is courteous, allowing his or her mate room to aim and fire their sack. Soon, the pain from each strike melds into a continuous pain. In a little bit, I am moaning and sobbing with the pain. I cry out, I beg, I entreat. The hail of missiles continues.

When I can take no more pain, however, the meadow darkens and the crowd seems to evaporate. I am still standing, but the chains to my wrists are taking some of my weight.

I think I go to a deeper sleep, because the dream starts again. This time, however, I am tied with my back to the crowd. Now, there is some martial music in the distance and one or two sacks are launched and hit my back or shoulder. It is as if gunners are trying to bracket a firing solution for their slingshots. I am patient and gradually the pace of firing picks up. This time, there are no nipple clamps to give a musical signal. Each hit feels like a punch. I try to "sink into the pain," as I have read advice previously. Perhaps it helps. As before, when the pain becomes too much, the crowd and the meadow fade.

At last, my 0600 wake-up call arrives. It is a young girl who seems unsure of herself. She says nothing, but frees my wrists from the cuffs and removes the nipple clamps. I look at my body, but see no splashes of red. Nevertheless, I am sore all over. I find a tank top and a pair of shorts in the dresser and I ask the girl if I may go to the gym on my own.

Her face immediately dons a horrified expression. She manages to squeak out "Transport Mode" and I turn for the handcuffs. She delivers me to the gym, where Igor greets me and removes the cuffs.

"Good morning, kid. Did you sleep well?"

The rule is that a slave cannot lie, so I blurt out my dream with as much detail as I can recall.

Igor looks thoughtful and offers an opinion. "Sometimes a nightmare is what a slave has after having some improper thoughts." He hasn't actually asked a question, and so I offer no further details.

Igor has my training grid up on the workstation, and he puts me through a shortened version of the Bowflex machines. Somehow, the soreness from last night's missiles does not seem to affect my performance. I don't even work up a sweat.

Igor, Pat, Anne and I manage a hearty breakfast from a re-supplied refrigerator. Back at my room, Pat and Anne select a matching bra and panty set, a bit more daring than last night's. Anne explains that I am going to have to impress the sales ladies at the Mall. For some reason, this makes me laugh and my trainers look at me in surprise. We do the shower thing, although without much playing, and Pat does my hair in a simple wave. I don the sheath dress that Anne has selected along with the medium heels from last night.

I'm ready to go shopping.