Master's Favorite Toy Ch. 02

"This one's for you, pretty lady," He said.

"Oooh, I'm excited!" I replied. Yeah, it was kind of cringey, but I was getting into the flirting. He served outside, and his opponent couldn't return a backhand for a million bucks, so the ball clacked away into a wall somewhere. I cheered.

"Woohoo! Nice serve!" I cupped my hands around my mouth and called over the music.

I was careful to size up Jayden the whole time, keeping a close eye on his play. He had a strong fore game and decent backhand, but none of his opponents put any spin on their returns except accidentally, and those blindly fortunate volleys always launched in awkward directions. Primarily, he was slow and repetitive. Jayden was a one trick pony accustomed to defeating amateur players.

That's where I parked for a good bit of the night. A lot of people came and went at the ping pong table, but Jayden stayed all night. This was clearly his thing. After a few more games (and a few more drinks for both of us) he came over to see me between games. Pretty soon, he was having me kiss the ball before any important serve, and calling me his good luck charm.

Like I said, flirting is easy.

So finally the party was starting to wind down a bit, and Jayden had grown more and more handsy. He stood behind me, hugging me and cupping my breasts, speaking into my ear.

"They've got some guest rooms upstairs baby. You want to come with me?" He asked. I leaned into him, laying my head on his chest.

"That's up to my Master," I replied, pointing at Mr. Morgan. Jayden's grip on me loosened, and he looked up.

"Oh shit, say less bro," He said, "I didn't realize you were one of Gerry's girls."

I guess he didn't recognize me from the first time we met in Master's office.

"Oh yeah, Gerry's a homey, baby, I'm gonna get to know you tonight." He squeezed my tits and winked. "Hey Gerry!" He called. Master looked up. Whatever Master was doing, he'd probably been drinking too - He had Ms. Dubois next to him, and he was getting pretty feely with her. Margaret sat nearby, looking like an abandoned puppy.

"Can I borrow this one?" Jayden called, laying a hand on my head.

"Of course, my man. But no sex. She's fresh. All the head you want though," Gerry raised a drink, and Jayden clapped his chest.

"My man! Does she do anal?"

Master laughed, shaking his head.

"Bro that is - no, that is up to her, alright?" Master looked at me expectantly, and I froze. It was up to me? What is that supposed to mean? Slaves don't have things that are 'up to them'.

"What do you say, baby?" Jayden squeezed me.

"Uh, I don't know..."

When you spend your entire life being trained to do as you're told, it's hard to make a decision like that. I genuinely didn't want to try anal. I mean, maybe in the right circumstances, with the right guy, if he were going to be gentle and communicative. Jayden didn't seem gentle or communicative.

"Okay, how 'bout this," He chuckled to himself, "If I beat you in a game of ping pong, you do anal." He grinned, half joking.

To borrow his term, 'say less, bro'.

"Okay!" I replied immediately. I broke from his grip and ran to the table. Jayden never lost his smile, walking confidently.

I scooped up a paddle. The blade was carbon with a pretty nice sandwich-rubber pad. Master had sprung for some seriously nice equipment. I picked up the Ping pong ball and held the paddle in a loose shake hand grip, trying to look as amateur as I could.

With that, we started. I held the paddle sloppily, and served a light, slow ball high over the net. Jayden returned easily, and we volleyed very slowly. It was almost more difficult to intentionally hit the ball incorrectly.

"You don't want to hit it up so high," He offered.

"Oh, why not?" I asked, dumbly. Jayden waited for my return, and spiked the ball. I fought the urge to return it, watching the hasty spike slide by.

"Because I can do that." He laughed, full of confidence.

I let him have about four points like that. On my last serve, I surreptitiously dusted a decent amount of top spin across the serve. He returned a high ball, like I figured he would, and I made a big show of screaming as I spiked it. Of course he couldn't return it.

"Okay, okay, you learn fast." He laughed. "But it's my serve now."

"Hold on... what if I win?" I asked. "What do I get? If you get anal?" Jayden laughed.

"I don't know, no anal?" He asked.

"What if..." I thought for a second. "Ooh, what if I can put something in your ass. Like a cucumber." I proposed. I was startled to hear Master laugh. I didn't know he was still paying attention.

"Naw... I ain't into that." Jayden shook his head, but Master egged him on.

"What's the matter Jay? I thought you were a 'Ping Pong God'? Are you worried she's gonna beat you?" Mr. Morgan taunted his friend.

Jayden shrugged.

"Naw man, I just don't..."

"If you beat her, it doesn't matter," Master said. "Don't be a chicken." Jayden smiled. Perhaps he was remembering my slow serves and high returns.

"Alright, whatever. If you win, you put cucumber in my ass," He said. Master laughed.

"Marc-...Marcie," Master was slurring a bit. He stood from his seating by Abigail's pole, walking to us. He leaned heavily on the side of the table, holding my attention with an intense gaze and low voice.

"If you beat him, I will get you a, uh, a one thing that you want." Master said. Behind him, some of the people he'd been chatting with filtered over, including Margaret. Now I had an audience.

"Thank you, sire," I replied. I was excited to have a crowd. Some people pulled up chairs and stools, watching us.

It was Jayden's serve. I put a little bit of effort in, even returning one of the outside serves that had killed his earlier opponent. I was still trying to appear very amateur. At the end of his serves, we'd settled into a pretty comfortable 8-2 game in his favor. My turn to serve. Jayden was still pretty lighthearted, laughing and smiling. He was joking with the crowd about getting it in my ass. He was very crude. I hammed it up.

"Don't some pros hold the paddle like this?" One handed, I twirled the paddle around to my much preferred 'pen hold' grip.

"Uh, yeah," He said.

"And don't they serve like this sometimes?" I slapped a nasty side spin onto the ball, and he jumped to return the serve, missing by five feet. Score for me.

The background noise of the party could still be heard, but Jayden was dead silent, staring at me. Damn, I tried to play so cool, but I was grinning like a kid on Christmas. His eyes narrowed. I think he knew what was happening, but he couldn't believe it.

"Sorry," I faked an apology. "Was that bad?"

"Nah... It was pretty good," He still seemed incredulous. I set the record straight on the next serve. Fast and low, maybe an eighth of an inch above the net, the ball whipped by him so fast he could only barely get his paddle under it, punching a high ball square in the middle of my table. I slapped it down on the edge with side spin, and he utterly failed to return it, diving onto the ground in his attempt. He stood up promptly, his eyes a little angry. 8-4.

"I wonder if Joyce would help me pick out the biggest cuke," I said, meeting his eyes. To the side, Master and his friends were watching closely. They were all speechless, eyes darting back and forth between us. Time to put on a show.

I wish I could say it was difficult. But it wasn't.

At 8-10 my favor, he served me game point. Everyone in the room was watching us now. Master and his friends were whispering back and forth to each other. The music had stopped a while ago, and no one had bothered to restart it. Abigail leaned on her pole, watching closely. I commanded the room.

Jayden was SWEATING.

I crouched by the table, a foot or so back, feet apart, breathing hard. I hadn't had this much fun in a long time. Jayden served. It was his outside serve, the one that he'd fooled the other guy with, but failed to catch me off guard with. I surged forward and caught the ball, only realizing too late that he'd added top spin to it.

Jayden had been paying attention.

My return popped the ball up high and slow, beautifully setting him up for a spike. I backed up from the table, anticipating.

He spiked it, like I knew he would.

"Boom!" He yelled, coming down hard on the ball.

Here was a guy who was used to ending games this way. He was not used to having his spikes returned.

I tracked and easily caught the sloppy, directionless spike. I torqued it from below, putting bottom spin on the ball as it slid back to him. He had no idea where the ball was going when it came back.

It felt good to drill a hole in his chest with the ball. Well, not literally, but the ball did bounce off the table into his chest. 8-11. Game over.

I heard cheering. I tried to say "If you're nice I'll lube it first," But I couldn't finish the sentence because Kat wrapped me in a hug, lifting me off the floor.

"YOU GO GIRL!" She screamed in my ear, crushing the air out of me.

Jayden threw his paddle on the table with a loud clatter.

"That's bullshit. That's some fucking bullshit," He cursed.

"You got fucking hustled!" Master shouted, bending over with laughter. "She fucking hustled you!" I was laughing too, enjoying myself. Everyone was making fun of him and yelling. Kat even left to go get a cucumber from the kitchen.

"You made a deal!" I reminded him, "I get to put a cucumber up your ass."

"Nah, fuck that. I'm not doing that," He replied. Jayden walked to me, grabbing me by the wrist. "We're going upstairs. I'm wiping that grin off your face."

Without thinking, I resisted his pull. I guess I was swept up in the moment.

"You have to put a cucumber..." I smiled, tugging at my hand. I was well meaning, joking even. That pissed him off all the more, and he turned around, raising a hand to slap me.

Margaret was -there-.

"Don't." She appeared between us, glaring at Jayden authoritatively. I'd never seen her move that fast. The taller man hesitated, cowed by Margaret's threatening gaze. Jayden's anger wavered into hesitation. He almost seemed fearful as she stared him down.

"You're not taking her anywhere," Master stepped up, still grinning. With a flick of his wrist, he dismissed Margaret, and she stepped back, bowing her head. "Or any of my slaves, until you put a cucumber up your ass." Master grinned at his friend. Jayden glared back at him.

"Fuck you. Fuck your stupid slave," Jayden said, releasing my wrist. He stormed out, cursing the whole way. Master seemed taken aback.

"...Okay, douche," he whispered. Master's smile was gone, and I suddenly felt very guilty.

"I'm sorry Master. I didn't mean to upset your friend." Mr. Morgan shrugged.

"He'll get over it. He's an asshole anyway. But on God, that man will never touch another slave's ass until I see a cucumber up his..." Master grinned, patting my head. "Nice work, Marcie."

The room cooled off a bit after that, and Ms. Dubois asked me where I learned to play ping pong so well.

"Women's Central League Amateur Champion," I held up three fingers, "Three years in a row." Master shook his head, whistling.

"Damn. Margaret, you should have included that when you introduced her. What a sexy skill," He nudged his favorite slave, shaking his head. Margaret stumbled through her response.

"I didn't know, Master. I apologize for..." She trailed off, guilt written on her face.

Master was ignoring her, speaking to Dubois about something. Margaret looked like she might cry. She took the gentle admonishment from Master harder than probably anyone intended. The favorite slave glared at me, and her disapproval tore the spirit from my smile. I looked away.

After that, everyone broke into another round of laughter when Kat came rushing in, panting, with a cucumber in each hand.

"Do you want thicker or longer?" She asked, out of breath.

That night fucking ruled. After Jayden left, everyone was telling me how cool 'The Hustle' (basically everyone called it that) was. A bunch of the guys even started asking for lessons, and I was happy to play with them. We got flirtier and drunker as the night went on, and somehow Kat and I ended up in a doubles game against two guys that was 'Shirts vs. Skins' and we were the skins. First time I've played ping pong topless.

It was probably like 4am before the party really ended. Someone turned on the fluorescents to look for a lost smartphone. The music stopped, then some guy asked Master if he could take Abigail to bed. Lucky guy. People trickled away, many of them to the guestrooms with my fellow slaves.

Eventually, everyone was gone but me and Joyce, the cook / bartender. She had the unfortunate task of cleaning up, and though I was pretty tipsy I stayed to help her. There was food on disposable plates, half-finished drinks, and at least two condoms. Were people having sex in the room? How did no one notice?

Joyce was grateful, but said that I should put my shirt back on. I remember searching everywhere for my shirt, but I don't remember what led to being in the living room, just down the hall from Master's bedroom. I was giggling to myself while I searched through couch cushions for my shirt, when I heard shouting.

"Margaret, fuck off. This is not hard. Leave. Me. Alone." Master was clearly annoyed. It occurred to me that Margaret was probably bothering him while he was with Ms. Dubois again.

"I'm so sorry sir, I just thought you might want some comp-..." Margaret tried to explain, but was quickly silenced.

"Go away! Permanently!" Master yelled, followed by a slammed door. I stood as I heard footsteps, a little sobered with fear at the sound of Master shouting. Margaret came storming down the hallway, her fists clenched and eyes streaming tears. She stopped when she saw me.

Yikes.

I was definitely in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was really upset, and in an instant she redirected that anger at me.

"Why didn't you tell me you were a pro at ping pong?" She walked up to me with purpose, getting in my face.

"Uh, ma'am, I uh," Drunkenly, I tried to gather my thoughts.

"Master is furious with me, and it's your fault!" She was almost yelling. I thought the whole house could have heard her. "Well?" She demanded.

"I didn't... um, what I mean ma'am, is, you didn't ask." I replied.

"Inexcusable. Do not let this happen again. Master is furious."

"It didn't sound like he was mad about the ping pong thing," My drunk mind let me say.

"How dare you?" Margaret pressed up against me, hissing in my face. "I expect an apology by tomorrow, or there will be severe consequences for you, Marcie." She spat my name, taking steps forward. I staggered back, bumping into a coffee table and crashing down over it, tumbling onto the floor. Margaret stormed out, footsteps stomping as she power walked out the front door. I picked myself up, rubbing a sore spot on my elbow.

I completely forgot about helping Joyce with cleanup. It was windy, cold and late when I wandered back to the servant's quarters, freezing and topless. The walk was long and dark on a chilly February night. When I finally staggered up to the house, Winnie was in the front porch swing, bundled up with blankets. The pregnant slave fussed over me when I came up the front stairs.

"Oh, Marcie, you poor cold little girl. Come here. Snuggle up. I'm watching the stars." She said, holding her blanket up. I quickly sat next to her, scooting in close and wrapping myself in the warmth of the quilts.

The servant's quarters faced Master's house, meaning some of the sky was stained by the exterior lights of his mansion. But above that, and just when the porch swing rocked to the front, you really did have a nice view of the sky. The night was as clear as it was cold, and the sights were lovely.

"Did you talk to Margaret?" Winnie asked. "She came by just before you. She was upset about something."

I told Winnie everything that happened, the whole night. I know she hadn't asked about that, but I was drunk and over sharing. I told her about Tim and Cain, and about ping pong, and finally about Margaret shouting at me and knocking me over. Winnie waited patiently until I had finished my story.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"I'm fine," I replied. "Physically. My feelings are hurt. I thought me and Margaret were pretty cool after hanging out," I gestured upstairs to Margaret's room. Winnie nodded understandingly. She watched the stars for a minute longer.

"Margaret is the most fragile woman I know," She replied. I had to stop myself from laughing at the straight faced put-down. Winnie wasn't joking though. "Her self-worth is built on Master's value for her. Ms. Dubois is a threat to Margaret. It's not a cruel tyrant you're dealing with. She's just a scared girl, lashing out." Winnie explained. "Just try to understand her point of view."

"You're not getting me," I replied, still miffed. "Do you know what it's like to try to be someone's friend and they treat you like garbage?" I asked.

In hindsight, Winnie is a very patient woman.

"I'm not excusing, just explaining. You looked good to Master tonight. Margaret looked bad. That made you a target."

"But I tried to be her friend. I tried to be nice to her after the ball, too," I was getting frustrated. Winnie simply didn't understand how unjustly I was being treated.

"You are not the first person to try that." Winnie explained. "She's pushed away other people who tried to be her friend... when they became a threat." Winnie laid a hand on her belly, staring wistfully into the night. We rocked on the swing a little longer.

"Why do you defend her so much?" I asked.

"Because she's my friend. Even if I'm not hers."

We sat together a while longer before I was too tired to stay awake. I climbed out of the blankets and invited Winnie to come inside with me and warm up a bit. She told me she couldn't sleep because of her heartburn, and she was just staying up until it went away. I left my friend stargazing on the porch.

When I passed by the stairs to Margaret's room, Winnie's voice played in my head:

"She's just a scared girl,"

I held a short internal debate before climbing the stairs. I hesitated at the door to Margaret's bedroom, realizing I was still shirtless. But we're pleasure slaves, what's she going to say, I shouldn't be naked? I knocked on the door.

"What?" Came her muffled reply. Opening the door, I found her face down on her bed, covered in a blanket. She didn't move or look up when I entered.

"I just wanted to say I think you did a nice job with the party tonight. It was fun." I searched for something comforting to say. "I hope we can still be friends." I hovered in the hall a few seconds longer, then closed the door and left.

I was the only one in my room that night. It was nice and quiet when I flopped down on my mattress, passing out almost instantly.

Everyone had a day off the next day (Today, as I'm writing this). Margaret was nowhere to be seen. Kat had spent the night with two guys and a girl she'd been talking to at the party. Abigail had been thoroughly disappointed by a 'brainless jock who had no skill in his fingers'. I told her how impressed I was with her pole dancing and she offered to teach me! She said it could take the place of my required physical fitness classes, but I told her I'd like to try both.

When I told Kat about my run-in with Margaret, she just said it was 'regular old Margaret bitchy bullshit'. But I don't know. Poor Margaret looked more than just angry and embarrassed. She did look kind of frightened... like Winnie said. I'm going to check up on her when I can.

[Drawn in the Margin: A self portrait, stylized, holding a trophy that says 'Ping pong world champ'.]

Feb. 18

[Drawn in the Margin: A fractal snowflake.]