Master's Favorite Toy Ch. 01

"Do you have a portfolio?" He asked. I hesitated, remembering all of my personal artwork stored in my private space at school. I had not been permitted to bring anything when I was shipped to the dealership.

"No, sire. I was not permitted to keep my portfolio." I frowned, looking down at my feet. He shook his head, disappointed for the first time.

"Ah, the damn dealership, right? Actually, I'm glad Margaret gave them a hard time. Listen, I'll get her to rustle up some art supplies. I've got a project planned for you, so I'm going to trust you know your stuff, okay?" Mr. Morgan asked.

"Yes Sire. Thank you Sire." I replied, instantly nervous that I might disappoint him.

"Did you enjoy your time at Mason and Brockeridge?" He asked, changing the subject. I nodded confidently.

"The happiest time of my life, Sire. Uh, I mean outside of serving you. I had very good friends there." He chuckled.

"Relax. Yeah, I'm quite close to M and B. I've got three other slaves trained by them. You were top of your class..." He rifled through my paperwork. I could have given him the information, but that would be speaking out of turn. The Master had not asked a question. "...Your final year. Fantastic. I won't buy a slave unless they're in the top performers." He smiled with pride, setting my folder down on the ping pong table and crossing his arms.

" I'm something of a collector. Each of my Mason and Brockeridge women were top of their class at least once. Margaret was top of her class for four years. She's arguably the most quality slave..." He paused for effect, "... in the world. The jewel of my collection, if you will." He explained. It quickly became clear that the conversation had struck upon his passion. Slave collecting was important to him.

His favorite purchase was Margaret, and he would not stop speaking about her.

She had been very difficult for him to acquire, but he had spent a good deal of money and leverage to purchase her right as she graduated. According to him, she was 'fresh from the package'. Other slaves had their value measured in money. Margaret's worth was not so simple.

Two more of Master's pleasure slaves had come from my Alma Mater, Mason and Brockeridge. First and foremost trained as pleasure slaves, all Mason and Brockerigde women are educated thoroughly in every form of servitude, and are considered the absolute highest order of pleasure slaves. Both of those women were top of their class as well.

The rest of his slaves were similarly qualified, as he explained to me, top of their classes from various different schools. Even his four non-pleasure slaves were of the highest quality, including a chef who had earned two Michelin stars for her previous owner.

I had expected a lot of the conversation to be directed at me, but his interest was only in his collection. His girls were the sole topic of conversation after a certain point. I did my best to commit every detail to memory. If it was important to my Master, it was important to me.

It was several minutes past the fifteen he had promised Margaret when he checked his watch, chiding himself.

"Ah, I've kept the lady waiting. I'm very pleased with you, Marcie, and I don't think I'll regret my purchase. You have confidence in your skills, and I love your looks." He walked past me, stopping to grab me around the waist. With a strong hand, he pulled me in close, kissing my lips gently. I was surprised, gasping slightly. His kiss was slow and tender, and he rubbed my lower back sensually. When he broke the kiss, he exited with a smile.

"I'm going to enjoy you," He promised.

I was alone in my Master's study. Uncertainty gripped me. Did he want me to stay here? Did he want me to follow him? Was I free to move about the house on my own? Unspoken orders are an important part of my training. It is my duty to pick up on nonverbal cues and take hints from my Master, following his orders even when he doesn't speak.

I racked my memory, trying to recall if he had given any indication of what I should be doing. I recalled he had said someone would be sent by Margaret to give a tour, so I resolved to wait in his study.

Another important lesson I had received was never to sit idle. So I didn't. I found the ping pong ball in front of a bookshelf and returned it to the table. It was difficult, but I folded the table out of the way and replaced his furniture that had been moved. Next, I busied myself with organizing his desk.

I shuffled some papers that looked like they belonged together. Two pens I deposited in their appropriate holder. As I cleared several crinkled balls of paper, my heart skipped a beat. A small, smooth hardback notebook came into view. A smattering of white powder lay dusted across the notebook, next to a razor blade. I froze in place. I'd been here ten minutes and was already into something I shouldn't be. My proactive attitude may have been a mistake.

A knock at the door caused me to jump.

"The Master is out," I called, "How may I help you?" I replaced the trash to hide the... stuff, right as the door opened. A young, dark-haired woman entered, wearing a pair of soffe shorts and a tank top. Her long hair was down to her mid back, messy around her head. She had a big smile and happy eyes.

"Hi!" she called, waving.

"Hello!" I tried to be friendly. She crossed the room quickly, stumbling over her feet as she ran up to me. She held her arms out for a hug, and I was too confused to say no. Wrapping me tightly, the cheerful young woman squeezed me close.

"I'm Kate. Well, not the other Kate. I'm Katherine. I don't go by Kate anymore because there's another Kate, and she's too shy to go by another name, so I'm Katherine. Or Kat. Either one is fine, so I'll let you pick."

"Hi, Kat. I'm Marcie." I replied.

"Hi Marcie! Aw, that's such a pretty name," She broke the hug, backing up a few steps and looking me over, "And wow, you're so pretty too. I love your hair. Did the Master like you? Oh my gosh, did your interview go well? He's really easy to get along with, isn't he? He's not my first Master, and I was so used to being confused all the time by my last Master. It is so refreshing to talk to Mr. Morgan. I like being his slave so far, but there's some things that could be improved on. Unrelated, but have you met Margaret? She's pretty stiff, huh? Come on, let's walk and talk."

Kat led me out of the study, chattering away as we went. I had a million questions, but forcing my way into this one sided conversation felt like threading a needle with the sewing machine running. We walked down the hallway, passing once again into the kitchen/dining/living area.

"That was the Master's office back there. Above that is the Master's bedroom," She smiled at me mischievously, wiggling her eyebrows, "Where the magic happens," She continued speaking as we passed a young red-haired woman. I tried to introduce myself, but Kat ignored her, walking past the lady and talking.

"That's the pool, behind it is the gym. Master will want you to stay in shape, but he's pretty cool about how we do it. Abigail, She's our fitness guru, gives Yoga classes, so most of us do that. Here's the kitchen. That's Joyce's kitchen, don't touch anything without her permission, meals are pretty casual except sometimes Master likes to have supper with everyone at once. He calls it staff dinner and that's usually pretty fun." She pointed to a hallway leading behind the stairs. "Garage over there, guest bedrooms up the stairs, but one of them is being converted - Oh! You'll need to see that." She jogged to the hardwood stairs, running up without hesitation. I scrambled to follow, taking steps two at a time. The woman's energy was absolutely unmatchable, and she spoke so quickly I could feel my brain processing a few seconds behind her words.

"Sorry," She apologized as I caught up to her. The corridor had several doors on either side and decorative paintings of quiet domestic scenes on the walls. I looked around as I caught my breath.

"It's fine. D-" I tried to ask a question, but I was too slow.

"My last Master didn't like how much I talk or how fast I go, but Mr. Morgan says he likes it because it makes me unique and collectible." She asserted happily. Her face fell a bit. "He does say I talk too much though, so I'm sorry if I do. Just let me know if I'm talking too much," Kat finished with a sincere look at me.

"You're fine," I lied. "D-"

"This is the guest wing. It only gets used if the Master has friends in town, or his sister. Ha! I'll tell you about his sister sometime. She's crazy. Well, not crazy, just a bit more extreme than most people. Don't tell him I said that. Here, this room is the one."

Kat pushed the last door on the right, opening it. The room was small, brightly lit by two exterior windows, and a crib was placed along one wall. Piles of baby clothes were heaped on the floor, spilling out of plastic bags. Beneath one of the windows, another slave was kneeling, surrounded by pieces of unassembled furniture. The woman was in her early thirties, with short, dirty blonde hair. She was wearing a simple T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and sneakers. The casual outfit clashed with the bright, ornate silver choker she wore on her neck.

The poor woman had one knee on a set of paper instructions, struggling to hold two opposing lengths of wood together while she added a screw. The angle was awkward, and she grunted in frustration as a piece clattered to the floor.

"Winnie!" Kat cried, "You shouldn't be straining yourself!" She rushed into the room, kneeling beside her friend. Kat offered a hand.

"I'm fine," Winnie said dismissively. "I could use some help though."

With help from my talkative host, Winnie was able to quickly attach the two pieces, forming the front leg and frame of a dresser. When they finished, Kat didn't hesitate to fill the silence.

"Winnie, have you met Marcie? She's the new girl Master bought to help with the nursery." Kat helped Winnie to her feet while she talked, and as soon as the woman stood, I saw her large belly. I guessed she was about seven months pregnant.

"Oh!" I exclaimed. She laughed, and I apologized.

"Don't be embarrassed." Winnie said. "It's nice to meet you. Did Kat tell you why our Master purchased you?".

"Not yet," I replied.

"He wants you to decorate the nursery!" Kat interjected. "Winnie offered to do it, but he said it would be better to get someone with formal training. Everyone thinks that's just an excuse for him to buy another pleasure slave though, because he gets an itch to buy a new one every once in a while and makes an excuse. He bought Yvette because-," Winnie rested a hand on the chatty girl's shoulder.

"Oversharing again, dear," She corrected her friend kindly. "The point is, you were brought in to help with interior design, and paint my son's room before his arrival." Winnie smiled, extending her hand for a shake. I once again noticed her silver choker, and realized that her necklace, much like Margaret's gold one, could be a sign of her authority. Perhaps marking her as the Master's second favorite. I decided to be extra respectful just in case.

"Well, I'm excited to help out, but I don't know much about children. I hope I can be of service, ma'am." I said. Winnie shook her head.

"'Ma'am'! Oh no, I'm not ma'am. You noticed the choker. I'm sure Margaret gave you strict orders on how to address her, but that isn't me. I'm just Winnie. I told him I didn't want to wear this thing, but it's important to him." She thought for a moment, and then added: "And to Margaret."

"So, when do I get started?" I asked. Winnie waved us off.

"Tomorrow. You've still got to settle in. You have a fantastic guide, go finish your tour and make yourself at home. I can finish this dresser up from here."

We left the warm, friendly Winnie, and Kat showed me back downstairs in a hurry. As we made our way down the hallway, she overshared some more.

"Abigail thinks Margaret is jealous of Winnie because of the pregnancy. It is Master's baby by the way, I know you were wondering that," She said.

"I was, a little."

"Because when he found out Winnie was pregnant, he got, like, weirdly defensive. Like for a little while nobody could ask Winnie questions without him telling them to leave her alone. Even Margaret, and she hated that. She's really proud of her status, and she felt-," Kat cut herself off. The silence jolted me, and I looked up in time to see why.

Margaret was strolling through the living room, her light blonde hair damp, wearing only a towel. Her skin was still moist with droplets of water, and she strutted with confidence. She looked up and saw us.

"Ma'am," Kat said awkwardly. Margaret didn't say anything, walking past us and down the opposite hall. Kat waited until she was gone to continue speaking. It was the longest time I'd heard silence since meeting her.

"Well someone just had a good time. I bet she showered with the Master. He pays special interest to Margaret sexually. I mean, can you blame him? She's, like, a ten. No way we could compete. I mean, you could, you're so pretty, but don't tell her I said that. She's jealous. I'll show you the theater."

I could understand how Kat's talking could be irritating, but honestly, I was learning a lot from her. Sure, many of the day to day, useful questions were going unanswered, but perhaps the gossip would be more important for my survival. And Kat had plenty of gossip.

Kat showed me a library, game room, multipurpose room (With a stripper pole!), and connected to that the indoor pool, study, and lastly, on the end of the hall, Margaret's office. It was a quarter the size of the Master's, but quite nice for a slave. A small desk on one side, with a printer, a laptop, and a picture of Margaret amongst four other women. I recognized Winnie's face.

"She's here most of the time, unless she's with the Master. Are you nervous about having sex with him?" Kat could change subjects so fast you could hear the gears grinding.

"Uh, a little, I guess. But I'm confident in my training, and he's very attractive."

"Oh yeah, he's a hunk. We're kind of lucky that way, my last master wasn't. Do you enjoy sex?"

"I don't know," I replied, totally unprepared for the barrage of personal questions. I had decided long ago that whatever I told Kat would likely be shared to anyone with ears, so it was better to be quieter.

"You must be 'fresh out of the package', as Master says. He'll probably take you up to his bedroom alone soon. Most girls never get to go up there alone, usually he takes two or three of us. Except Margaret and Winnie. Margaret is up there like, three times a week, solo. I've been alone a couple of times," She said proudly.

"How long have you been here?" I asked.

"Two years," She replied. "Master purchased me because of my sexuality. I mean, most girls here play with other girls. It kind of comes with the job, but he said he wanted a girl who would enjoy it."

"Oh, you're bisexual?" I asked.

"Pan." She replied, leading me back up the hallway toward the living room. "Master's had me sleep with just about every girl here. So he could, you know, watch. He's got kind of a lesbian fetish. Just so you know what to expect." I grimaced while Kat kept chattering.

I am trained to pleasure women. After all, there was the slim possibility of a woman buying me. It's not an unwelcome thought, just... scary. Still, I'll try anything to please my Master.

The last stop of our tour was the servant's quarters. Situated about a third of a mile from the main house, the quaint building felt very homey. It had a large front porch with a swing. The house was smaller than the Master's house, about what you'd expect for a suburban family. Through the front door was a large living area, complete with an entertainment system. Connected to that, a kitchen and two bedrooms. Each of the bedrooms had their own bathroom and two bunk beds. I had assumed I'd be sharing a room with at least a few other women, and I was correct. Kat led me into one of the rooms, talking the entire time.

An athletic, slim woman was reclining on the bottom of one of the bunks. She looked at us with annoyance as we entered. Kat stopped by another bed, pointing to a sloppily made top bunk.

"And this is where I stay. The bottom bunk is free." She said pointedly. I hesitated for a split second, processing.

"Oh!" I tossed my bag on the bottom bunk. Kat fist pumped.

"Nice! Bunk mates," She held up a hand for a high five, and I gave her the most enthusiastic one I could. "Okay, so there's probably going to be a staff supper tonight," Kat started to explain.

"There is," called the athletic woman with the book. I studied her more closely. She was physically fit, wearing a pair of skin tight leggings and a sports bra. She was lazily reclined on the bed, her bob haircut falling casually around her face. Bits of sweat tinged the blonde tips of her dark hair.

"Thanks Abs." Replied Kat. "So there you go, probably at like five or six-,"

"Six," The woman cut in.

"Six," Kat continued, "We'll need to be back at the Master's house for supper. I hope you're hungry, Chef Joyce is a two Michelin star chef, so we always have great food. Don't we, Abs?"

'Abs' gave a silent thumbs up. Kat looked at me apologetically.

"She doesn't talk much," The chatty girl explained.

"I talk plenty," Abs cut in, "I just never have the time because of my roommate." She closed her book, looking up at me with a smile. I noticed for the first time that she was a bit older than any of the other women I'd met, perhaps in her early forties.

"I'm Abigail. It's nice to meet you." She introduced herself.

"Hi Abigail, I'm Marcie," I replied.

"Marcie is the artist Master bought to help Winnie decorate the bedroom. She's fr-," Kat was cut off mid sentence by Abigail.

"Why don't you let her tell me? Marcie, Do you have any questions you didn't get answered on your tour?" She asked me politely. I thought for a moment.

"No, I don't think so. Kat answered a lot of my questions without me asking." I tried to phrase it as friendly as I could. "Though I haven't met everybody yet."

"You'll get the chance." Abigail explained. "So, upstairs is for Margaret and Winnie only. Our room is me, Chatty Kathy, Yvette, and now, you. Across the hall is Emily, Shauna, and the less talkative Kate."

"I haven't met any of them yet," I said, pointing across the hallway.

"Ooh, we met Kate in the hallway," Kat explained. I recalled the quiet redhead we had passed on our way here. "But I think I-, uh, we were talking and she didn't introduce herself." Kat said.

Abigail flashed her talkative friend a suspicious glare. She didn't buy that.

I spent a little time chatting with two women. Abigail had been purchased many years ago, and had been here the longest of any slave, even longer than Margaret. She was a Mason and Brockeridge student as well, having been top of her class two out of her six years in attendance. Her specialty was in physical fitness, which explained her fantastic physique. Mr. Morgan was her fourth master.

As we talked, Kat retrieved blankets and pillows for me from a linen cabinet. She helped make my bed, and I sat on my bunk while the three of us chatted. It felt kind of fun, actually, like a summer camp. The conversation quickly turned to gossip.

"What about the girl who sleeps up there?" I asked, pointing to the bunk above Abigail. The bed was sloppily made, just like Kat's, and the walls around the bunk were decorated with artwork and posters. The titles of anime, video games, and other media were shouted in bold Japanese characters.

"Yvette," Kat answered, following my eyes to the top bunk.

"Yes. What was the Master's reason for buying her?" Abigail was silent, and Kat, shockingly, was silent too. I waited for an answer.