48 Hours on Blue Bayou Pt. 09: Julie

This is co-author J Spe's latest offering on Julie's life in Hong Kong. If you are a new reader, be sure to start with Pt. 1. Then follow each captive separately. Julie's Parts are 3,5,7,8, and now 9.

Please don't forget- this is fantasy.

Carol

Julie, Scene Five: Ready to Shop

Author's Note: Welcome back, Dear Readers! Julie's part in her Master's Enterprise Roundup takes off with the wives going shopping in Hong Kong's premier Mall. Then, at the Opening Banquet, Julie must be the Master's First Lady. Of course, there is a bit of a cliff-hanger.

—J Spe

Chapter Twelve: The Mall

The entry lobby of the Base seems full of women, with Charles consulting each one and lots of cellphones being used. It isn't clear whether it's for a voice call or for accessing some internet site that has shopping information. Security, which Charles said covers the Enterprises' needs for transport, has a dozen SUVs lined up outside, each with a driver and a Security crewman or woman.

Charles claps his hands and the crowd quickly quiets. Charles welcomes everyone to the Enterprises' Round-up Week and announces that the activity for this morning is a trip to The Mall at Pacific Place. "Ladies and gents," he says, "please think about what your husband or home needs, or what your husband's office needs, or just what you'd like. This Mall considers itself Hong Kong's premier lifestyle hub, setting new standards for a luxurious shopping experience. I don't know about such, but they have stores from the world's finest establishments. Level 1 is mostly for teenagers, Level 2 gets to the more adult merchandise, and Level 3 features the crème de la crème. Although the Mall usually opens at 10:30, they've told us they'll be ready for us whenever we arrive. Talk with the sales ladies, please, because they are quite expert helping you find exactly what you need. When you've selected your purchases, buzz for Anne or me, because we've got a card that works in any shop. Our cellphone numbers are listed on your phones. OK, now, let's load up. We should have three or four of you in each SUV."

I find myself with wives from New York, London, and some town in Scotland. Names go past me faster than I can remember them. The lady from New York has a hesitant look on her face, so I ask about it.

She stammers a bit, but finally allows that she's not sure what Charles meant about "the card." Our driver laughs a bit and explains, "Ma'am, what Charles was trying to say is that your purchases today are all on the Enterprises. He and the tall lady alongside him, her name is Anne, have the company credit cards. After you've made your selection, like he said, check with him or her and they'll do the cashier thing." The New York lady blushes a bit, but sits back a lot more relaxed.

I dare to ask what she's planning on getting this morning. There is a moment's hesitation and a bit of blush, but finally she works up the courage to talk.

"It's a bit embarrassing, but I hope you'll understand and maybe have some ideas. You see, my husband has been this Project Manager for about a year. He's tremendously proud of the Project and keeps telling me about it and how much fun he's having working with these — um, what do you call them —Enterprises?"

We all nod agreement, and the lady from Scotland chimes in with her husband's excitement with his Project.

The New York lady continues, "Well, the problem is, he's been working tremendously hard and he gets home late almost every evening. He just manages to get a bit of dinner and then he's asleep in minutes. We haven't — I mean — " She tails off and looks at us with a pained expression on her face.

The lady from London fires the first shot. "My dear, do you think he's gotten some tart on the side? That's the usual reason, you know."

New York looks a bit flustered. "Well, I've thought of that, but he's never failed to answer when I call the office about holding dinner or something. I haven't found any lipstick smears, or whatever girls use today."

Scotland grins and offers, "OK, dearie, if it isn't a tart, then it's probably the job. What's wrong with that?"

New York shakes her head. "Oh, no. He's always up and excited about the Project. He never complains about it or about these Enterprises. When the invitation for this Round-up thing came, he was just over the moon and told me to start packing because he wanted me to meet the people he's working with."

I begin to get an idea. "Has he ever mentioned some worry about the Project? Time lines, maybe? Budget, perhaps?"

New York gets a look of pride on her face. "That's one of the things he's most proud of. He says he's going to bring this Project in what he calls 'On time and under budget,' whatever that means."

London leans back, thinking. "You know, a friend of mine once had this problem. She thought it was maybe that her marriage was getting a bit old, you know? Her solution was some fancy lingerie. Got it at the local Victoria's Secret, she said. Have we got a Victoria's Secret at this Mall?" This last she directs at our driver.

He waits until we hit a red light, then taps on his smartphone. "Sorry, Ma'am, not at this Mall."

My idea is gelling, but I don't want to announce it until I'd cleared it with my trainers. But, I do offer some support. "Even if there's no Victoria's Secret, I'm sure some of the shops will have something enticing. As Charles said, just ask the sales lady."

At the Mall, the ladies seem to scatter like wind-driven leaves. I find Anne and she waves her list with a big grin. Shopping, I have noticed, tends to do that to some women.

We start on Level 3. Anne is welcomed at each shop as if she were family come home for the holidays. Each place has two or three items out and ready for me to try on. While I am trying things on, Anne's phone chirps and she ducks out to help one or another lady at a cashier. For me, Anne selects one item at each stop, complimenting the sales staff on their selections.

I have never had such an experience! Over several hours and at least ten shops, the sales ladies ask Anne about color or hemline, but they favor me only with smiles. Between shops, Anne senses my questions and whispers, "Don't worry, kid, they know all about your status and you can rely on their discretion. Without it, they get no more visits, you see?"

I see. To them, it's just another slave being taken around for decorating ideas. If it weren't for the positively gorgeous clothes I'm getting, each with a label a paralegal can't even dream of, I'd probably have time for a snit. I'm afraid that's something slaves aren't allowed to have.

We finally work our way down to Level 1 and join a few women at a quiet café. Each — except for the New York lady — is bursting with energy and just waiting to show off her purchases. As more of the ladies gather, the choruses of ooh's and aah's would warm the heart of any retail magnate. Even the one husband on our expedition has found just the right silk blouse for his wife. The convoy of SUVs practically floats back to our Base.

Chapter Thirteen: The Preparation

As soon as I can get Anne alone, I tell her about the New York lady. "I'm just guessing, of course," I say, "but there's definitely some trouble in that marriage. I don't think the husband, our Project Manager, is having women on the side. I think he's really spending too much time at the office."

Anne just breaks up at this old cliché. "Well, I've heard of that, but this is the first time I've seen one in real life. What do you think is the reason?"

I'm way out on a limb, now. Again, I take a breath before continuing. "Please, Ma'am, I think our New York guy is trying to get by without proper staffing. He wants to keep to the budget, or even below the budget, for staffing. He's doing some staff work himself, and that's what's keeping him in the office. At this rate, he'll wear out before he gets the project to completion. Can we get Master to coach him on staffing and delegation?"

Anne thinks for a moment. "No. I think it would be too much if he gets this instruction from Master. But, if Edward goes into details about how the New York office is running, how many people he has doing what jobs, he's likely to learn this a bit more easily." She pauses for a bit of reflection. "Yes, that's the way to do it. Edward is the key."

We get some fruit and cheese for lunch and then I'm taken to the First Lady's workstation, my new "office." It's more than twice the size of my cubicle at the law firm. In fact, it's the size of one of the Partner's offices, and furnished just as nicely.The First Lady's Listis on my desk, with a copy showing on my computer screen. I click on the first meeting and the software brings up thumbnail photos for each of the participants. I greet each one by name and am tickled by the surprised looks on their faces. At exactly the right time, I open Master's door and usher them in to Master's welcoming smile and handshakes. In a moment, I get a request for just the expected sparkling water and am out the door heading to our kitchen.

Pat has had theListup also, and she's ready with the bottle of water and a crystal goblet. I'm back in Master's office before the small talk is over.

The afternoon goes smoothly, which astonishes me. Back at the law firm, there were always flare-ups from at least one of the Partners.

I ask Pat about this. She giggles and answers with something I kick myself for not realizing. Master has built up a staff that is focused on seeing all the "possibles" that could come up. His attention during meetings is focused on solving problems or making choices among alternatives that have been defined and explored by that staff beforethe meeting. The Project Managers have been comfortable in keeping the people at our Base up-to-date on our Projects, so these meetings have hardly any surprises.

Like the participants, I realize I, too, am surprised. I've been here a handful of hours and I'm thinking of them asourProjects and atourBase. This aspect of my slavery is a tad disconcerting, I think. I decide — are slaves allowed to decide something? — to keep this to myself for the present.

The Enterprises have the tradition of a formal banquet in the Casino on the first full day of Round-up. The men have been warned to wear tuxedos: for them it's a standard item and takes hardly any thought to put together. For the women, however, it means a long gown and at least an hour in the hair-dressing salon. Well, it would have back at the law firm.

Charles and Edward have arranged for a coterie of hairdressers, one for each lady! They show up and, like magic, everyone is turned out for a walk down the red carpet as if it's Oscar Night in Hollywood. Anne and Pat fuss over me until I plead that they're giving me a case of nerves.

Anne looks at me with her stern expression. "Don't be so dumb, kid. Slaves don't get to have 'nerves.' What you do have is to be the brightest star at the banquet. The point here is that everyone must see you as the leader for style and bearing in Master's Enterprises. Tonight is just the first time you're earning your keep. Do you understand?"

I am staggered. Suddenly, I am handed the job a Princess Royal spends a lifetime training for? Pat sees the shock that must be written all over my face. She laughs.

"Julie, you'll find this is not as hard as the movies make it seem. You've been working with people all your life, so you already know how to behave. You can trust that Master selected you because he saw something in you, something that assured him you could do this. Once we've got you properly outfitted, you won't have any worry about your presentation. Then, it's just a matter of following which fork Master uses for each dish. You concentrate on making everyone feel at home. You can do that because this really is your home that they've been invited to."

Simple, right? But, I remember holiday dinners from my childhood. They always seemed to feature at least one shouting match and people storming around. I push those memories down hard. I "try on" this First Lady role and, supported by the Anne-and-Pat-cheerleading team, decide I'm ready for the banquet.

Well, not quite yet.

Pat disappears for a moment and returns with some jewelry boxes. The first one is not a necklace or a pin for the gown. It's a matched set of earrings.

Pat and Anne hang the earrings from my ears. Anne explains. "These earrings are from the Chanel 1932 creative landscape. Back then, Mademoiselle Chanel called the feather idea 'Bijoux de Diamants.' These earrings are white gold and diamonds."

It doesn't take a Princess Royal to know that these will be the most exquisite earrings at the banquet. My paralegal mind has no idea of the value dangling against my neck.

They open the second box and I am overwhelmed by beauty. Similar to the earrings, it is a feather. It is intentionally large and extravagant, fully articulated and set with diamonds. Deliberately daring, it calls on the imagination of the wearer: it will be magni-ficent, no matter where Anne and Pat fix it. Anne tells me that the current name for this piece is "Plume de Chanel." She places it as a tiara just to the right side of my hair where its curves will emphasize the coiffure Pat has designed.

I am no longer a Princess; with this feather, I am a Queen or an Empress.

Master strolls into the room and, almost like a ballet, Anne, Pat, and I fall into the kneeling position. Master signals me to stand and I rise, trying to hold my head erect, as the Plume would demand, but trying to hold it bent, as a slave should to show her submission.

Master's smile is warm, and his "My dear, you look magnificent," holds all the promises a girl could want to hear from her date. He circles me slowly and, finally, signals Pat and Anne to stand. He gives each a kiss on the cheek and says, simply, "Ladies, you have produced the most beautiful woman on the island tonight. Thank you very much."

I can tell the ladies are affected by Master's speech and kiss. Anne, I think, is fighting tears. Master offers me his arm and leads me to the elevator. A quick glance shows Anne and Pat embracing, and both are tearful. In the moment before the elevator doors open, I wonder if this will be a part of my slavery one day.

Chapter Fourteen: The Banquet

The Casino lobby is filled with people bubbling over with good cheer. The wives (and one husband) have had a morning of shopping and an afternoon of gym and spa and leisure, topped off by a hairdresser's creativity. The men have made progress on their Projects with either the staff or Master himself. Nobody seems to have done anything to awaken the "forces of darkness and evil."

Master and I sweep through the crowd, shaking hands and exchanging kisses. From some of the staffers, I hear an occasional "Very nice" or "Beautiful." From the Project Managers, I get wide grins and quick looks. From their wives, I get gushes of thanks for the hairdresser, the shopping, the apartments, everything that has happened since the invitations went out. And then, there are the stares. Every female in the place not only notices the Plume, but some are so taken they stand open-mouthed in wonder.

I manage a short mantra. "It's from Chanel from 1932. It's called thePlume de Chanel." I don't have to say anything about the diamonds and nobody is gross enough to ask what it's worth. After a single turn about the lobby, I'm sure each wife is ready to commit her husband to working for Master's Enterprises for the rest of his life.

I'm sure the dinner was excellent, both the service and the cuisine, but I remember little of it. Master has me on his left and some Minister on his right. I realize there will be some speeches sometime during the dinner, and I am frozen by the thought I might have to say something. In a moment, however, I grin internally and relax. Anne or Pat would have briefed me. I am reassured by the working of another Law of Slavery: Slaves get told what they have to know when they have to know it. Also, I am comforted that Master has enough trust in me that there were no warnings issued during my preparation.

Before the dessert, there is an intermission of sorts. We have all eaten well and it's time for some speeches and dancing to work off the calories. Master takes me out on the dance floor for the first dance, but then we are back to working the crowd, table by table. There is no talk of Projects, just compliments on the arrangements and gratitude for the invitations. One or two wives tell me that their husbands were "just bowled over" by what they got him this morning.

The teenagers manage to slip into the Casino for the dancing and pretty much take over the dance floor. I notice Charles has a word with the bandleader and the music changes to some older and slower ballads. The teens try it for a few moments, but then abandon the attempt to look "cool" while waltzing. I tell Master about this and he enjoys a rich deep laugh, like the one when I commented on slaves not rating pie.

Charles and Edward manage a brief word to Master and, slowly and gracefully, he leads me out of the Casino and up to our penthouse. With a courtly bow, he says, "Julie, you were just right tonight. You've confirmed every expectation I had of you. I hope you also enjoyed the night. If you please, we'll try to have more of these." He waves to Anne and Pat and marches off to his corridor.

My team is just waiting for a recap. I go through as many details as I can remember, none of which include any of the speeches. I am taken apart, starting with the Plume and the earrings, then the coiffure, gown, shoes, and intimates. A quick shower and I am dressed in a simple tunic. Master's First Lady, his latest slave, is ready for bed.

Well, not before Anne brings news about the New York Manager from Edward. My guess was correct: he was saving on staffing and doing most of that work himself. Edward pointed out the unstable dynamics of this effort and showed him where the Budget had ample resources for a proper staff. "Edward says he was having a hard time convincing the guy until he waved a hand at the list of staffers Master has here at our Base. Then, he says, it just clicked that a good staff pays for itself in better product. Edward says to give you another Attaboy."

And, it isn't this slave's bed. Pat puts me into Transport Mode and delivers me to Igor's apartment where I get to repeat most of the evening's details — minus the gowns and jewelry — to my male trainer. He adds a few observations that dovetail with my own, removes the handcuffs, and begins to "play" with me. A few "touches" and I'm not a bit sleepy or tired from the evening's work.

Igor encourages me to work on some tight muscles in his back and then turns over so I can get to his front. His cock is already semi-erect and, when I kiss it, it quivers and becomes almost fully erect. Igor chuckles a bit and suggests I go a bit slower, but to remove the tunic.

Released from the spasms of his back muscles, Igor moves well against me, allowing my hands to reach all of his sensitive zones. Ever the trainer, he explains how I could take his now-rigid cock between my breasts and massage that area indirectly. I have never done a "breast fuck" before, but Igor leads me through it easily. Moving his cock from my cleavage to my mouth allows lots of experimentation, he points out, and I work on different moves with my tongue.

It is so different from what I had experienced beforeBlue Bayou. Most important, there is no rush, no pressure of time, no question of success. Igor and Anne had worked on my techniques and we were all confident of success, that it would be "good." When I finally take him into my throat, he comes with a rush. Still, I am able to swallow it all, saving the last mouthful to show him before swallowing one last time.