Master's Favorite Toy Ch. 03

Feb. 22

Winnie and Abigail have known each other for a loooooong time.

The three of us were doing laundry. It was a good time, we were joking with each other and laughing. I was asking a lot of questions about my employment, they were telling stories about the good ole days. We were sorting, folding, and having a decent, sane time.

But noooooo, decency and sanity were not good enough for these two ladies.

Abigail held up a pair of lacey pink panties.

"Looks like these are Margaret's. You want a sniff before I toss them in the machine?" She asked Winnie. The pregnant Winnie didn't miss a beat.

"No, I keep a pair under my pillow. Although, those are getting stale. I should probably switch them out..."

In my defense, their delivery was COMPLETELY deadpan, no hint of joking, no sign of sarcasm...

Yes, they were pulling my leg. I didn't know that at the time though. I don't remember making a face, but they both looked at me and burst out laughing.

"If you do anything with those panties outside of putting them in the wash, I am leaving," I said, shaking my head.

"You should have seen your face!" Winnie laughed, shaking her head as she folded one of Jefferson's shirts. "You thought I was all about Margaret's stank."

"Ode de Margarét," Abigail laughed, dropping the panties in with the other laundry.

I guess I had to be hazed eventually.

We were finishing the last load when Kat came racing in, pulling up the straps on a black bikini, spitting out sentences even faster than usual.

"Winnie! The pool guys are here! Something happened to the pump after the party, I don't know, it's probably full of condoms or something, the point is there's two guys from the pool company talking to Margaret right now. Where's your swimsuit? Does it still fit?" The typically high-energy woman exceeded herself, jumping up and down in excitement. Winnie lowered the clothing she was folding, tilting her head in disappointment.

"Oh, Kat, I don't know if I'm down for that anymore. At least not for now." Kat's shoulders slumped, and she frowned, whining.

"Wiiiinieeeee... Come on! Is this because of the pregnancy?" She asked.

"Yes," Winnie replied, wasting no words.

"But you're still so sexy!" Kat protested. "Come oooon. It'll be fun!"

"I bet Marcie will help you out," Winnie offered my services casually, returning her attention to her work.

Kat turned to me, a pleading frown on her face.

"I'd be happy to help," I replied, trying to be a go-getter. "What are we doing?"

[Drawn in the Margin: A bikini top, floating on the surface of a pool.]

Abigail's borrowed bikini was saggy and loose around my butt, but my boobs spilled out of the cups.

I followed Kat through the multipurpose room, distracted by her thong-clad ass. She spoke about a million miles an hour, as per usual, and didn't slow down as she stopped by the double doors to the pool area.

"Have you got the sunscreen?" She asked.

"Yeah, uh, it's an indoor pool, so...?" I shrugged, showing her the can of spray-on SPF-15.

"It's fine. They've never questioned it before," She giggled, "Trust me, this is a ton of fun." She pushed open one of the double doors, and I followed her into the pool area. Inside, one man stood by the wall, leaning in through a hole where a panel had been removed. He seemed to be talking to a second man, deeper inside the hole.

"Is it okay if we go swimming?" Kat, called. The man backed up from the hole to face us, his eyes instantly wandering.

"Uh, yeah, I don't see a problem with it. It's okay if they swim, right Hank?" He called into the wall.

"Yeah," Came the muffled reply.

"Okay," said, "But we might just lay out." She adjusted a deck side folding chair, spreading her towel across it. The man glanced up at the ceiling when she spoke, as if confirming to himself that the sun was not in fact shining through the solid structure. Kat was so confident, I almost checked for myself.

Selecting a chair next to her, I made similar arrangements and rolled out my towel.

Kat had explained everything to me when she first invited me to join her. This was her and Winnie's favorite pastime. Whenever there was pool maintenance to be done, She and Winnie would go out by the pool, and as she put it, "Torment the pool boys". The two grown men doing sweaty mechanical repair work didn't strike me as 'pool boys' but I didn't question. I was merely a clown in Kat's circus.

We lay out only a few minutes as the men worked, cursing and clanking behind the wall. I did keep an eye on them, and both men sneaked a few peaks at us. That wasn't good enough for Kat.

"Marcie, will you put some suntan lotion on my back?" She said, untying her top and holding it against her breasts.

It was so hard not to laugh. I just can't with this girl.

I glared at her suspiciously through slit eyes.

"You want me to rub sunscreen on your back for...what? So you don't burn?" I asked, looking up at the ceiling pointedly.

"Marcie!" She whispered sternly, "Play along," She laid face down on the deck chair, pulling her hair to the side and exposing her bare back to me. I didn't require much prompting to want to rub my oily hands on a sexy, half-naked woman, so I stood beside her and squirted a dollop of the greasy oil into my hands. I lathered in small circles on her back.

"Oh, it's much easier if you just straddle me," She said, a little louder than needed, "Climb on." I stifled my laughter as I threw my left leg over the top of her, sitting on her butt. Rubbing her back and shoulders, I sneaked a couple of glances at the working men. Yes, the guys were definitely watching us now, but trying very hard to look like they were not.

"Kat, this is awful," I whispered, "What if Master gets mad at them because they can't finish their work?"

"That sounds like an issue between them and Mr. Morgan," She replied quietly. Then, much louder: "Okay, that's probably good. I'm gonna go for a swim!" I moved off of her, watching her quickly jog to the pool and dive in. On the seat was her bikini top, innocently forgotten. I laughed, shaking my head. The two men were grunting about something from their paneled hole, so I made sure to call out very loudly:

"Kat, you forgot your top!"

"Oh well! I'll just be quick." She yelled with a smile, as if that would somehow cover her.

The guys were much less subtle when they came tumbling out of the hole on top of each other, flashing frequent looks at the pool while they pretended to do... something with the panel. Kat backstroked up the middle of the pool in mock ignorance, smiling the whole time.

Well, I'm not as subtle or nuanced as Kat, so I just yanked my top off (ah, freedom) and jumped in. We splashed each other, we held backstroke races, we...

Well, we kind of just ended up making out in one corner of the pool. I don't know, she got handsy during Marco Polo, and I grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer, and she squeezed me closer to her...

Point is, the men of 'Andy's Pool & Spa' had a great story to take back to the shop at the end of the day.

Eventually, I convinced Kat that we had to call it or they'd never finish their job. We collected our tops from the pool deck, waving to the poor guys.

"Good luck with your repairs!" Kat called, giving herself a little bounce.

"Y-you too," Hank replied, waving back awkwardly. I couldn't bring myself to do any bouncing or wiggling, so I just shot them a peace sign and followed the lovely Katherine out the door.

Feb. 23

Mr. Morgan came in about thirty minutes after I finished writing last night (I was in the dining room with Kat and Abigail, chatting and hanging out after supper). He strolled in with Margaret in tow. Master was casually dressed in a sweat suit, and he walked while typing on his phone. Kat and I were having a discussion when he came in, but he didn't say anything to us.

Normal protocol, as taught to me in my slave training at Mason and Brockeridge, would be to stop talking and acknowledge when your master enters the room, but Kat didn't do that, and Master didn't seem to mind, so I guessed that wasn't how Mr. Morgan operated. Much like when I first met him, Master was more casual than average, and certainly more casual than Margaret.

"Look, I don't care that it happened, just move her back," He was saying, irritated.

"Sir, I don't think that's for the best," Margaret replied. "When the power was out, the temperature in the servant's quarters dropped to a concerning level. In addition, she'll be having the baby soon, sir, and she'll need to be near the nursery. It shouldn't be a problem, there's plenty of guest rooms."

"Listen, beautiful," He pocketed his phone, turning to face his favorite slave, "it's not up to you. I was not consulted. It wasn't your call. Move her back." Master was making it very clear that this was not a topic open for discussion.

I was getting pretty upset about what I was hearing. Master wanted to make Winnie move back to the servant's quarters, away from the big house and the nursery, while she was seven or eight months pregnant. It would be cruel to her, and stupid. Margaret was right, but Master was the master. The fact that we had moved all of her belongings only the day before added salt to the wound.

"Sir, I don't understand. Do you expect a pregnant woman to walk back and forth the entire distance every single day?" Margaret pressed him a little, her head bowed in submission. It was a curious sight to see her so subordinated. The pompous blonde was usually in charge, and took pride in her authority.

"Margaret, stop nagging me," Master demanded, his face grim.

"Sir, if you're making a mistake, isn't it my duty to advise-,"

"Shut up!" Master shouted. Margaret immediately fell silent, her frightened eyes focusing on her feet.

"Just shut up. I didn't buy you to fucking nag me. You remind me I'm late and you suck my dick. Fuck, I could have bought an alarm clock and a fleshlight." His shouting tapered into annoyed griping.

"I'm sorry, sir." Margaret fell quiet.

"Whatever," Master waved a hand dismissively. "Just shut up and move her back to the servant's quarters." He waved his hand in frustration, clearly ending the conversation.

He turned to leave. Kat, Abigail and I watched in sad silence, all three of us disappointed with Master's Judgment. None of us expected what happened next:

Margaret spoke out of turn.

"You can't possibly expect a woman of Winnie's state to make this hike. Not now in the cold, or in the future when her child is fully dependent on her. Unless you plan to take care of the boy," My eyes widened in shock at Margaret's defiance. Even Abigail gasped, watching the scene unfold.

Master's reaction was swift and furious.

"Shut the fuck up! Shut up!" He whipped around and grabbed Margaret by her shoulders, shaking her furiously and lifting her up on her toes. Her phone clattered to the floor, and she cried in shock.

"When I tell you not to speak, you don't fucking speak!" He screamed. Master pushed Margaret hard, and she staggered back, falling on her perfect butt. She hit the ground hard. Her hands splayed out behind her to prevent her from falling on her back, and she looked up at Master with fear.

"Damn it," Master said, looking down at her. He rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I'm sorry. You should have shut up," he complained. I could tell Margaret was trying to fight it, but sobs started to come all the same. Master sighed deeply, watching his pitiful slave as she teared up.

"Stop crying." He demanded tersely.

"I'm so sorry, Sire." She slipped on calling him sir, "I'll stop as soon as I'm able."

"Oh for fuck's sake," He he threw up his hands in outrage, "Leave Winnifred in the guest rooms. Whatever. I don't care that much. Just stop fucking nagging me about it." With a dismissive wave at Margaret, he ordered: "Abigail, make her feel better," And then he left.

Margaret sat forward, pulling her legs in closer to her body. She searched around for her phone while sniffling. Abigail was incredulous.

"'Abigail, make her feel better,'? She hates me!" Abigail exclaimed, "Why do I- you know what?" Abigail stood, walking up to Margaret. She leaned over the beautiful blonde, and Margaret looked up at her. The favorite slave was small and scared, the exact opposite of her attitude the first time I'd seen the two women interact.

"Would you feel better if I left?" Abigail asked. Margaret grimaced, looking hurt. It seemed like she had actually wanted Abigail to comfort her. The favorite slave cast her eyes down.

"Sure," Margaret answered with a passive dejection.

"Fantastic. I'm following orders," Abigail turned to walk out, and I yelled at her.

"Abby! No!" I stood up quickly, walking to Margaret's side. While Kat picked up her cellphone and returned it to her, I scolded Abigail.

"That's not what Master meant," I grumbled. With help from Kat, we picked up the sniffling Margaret, fetching her a chair. She rubbed her eyes, wiping her tears away. After my scolding, Abigail stuck around, pulling a stool from the bar and sitting in front of the crying slave.

"Thanks, girls," Margaret said, forcing a smile.

"What you did was really brave, Maggy," I pushed a chair next to her, and sat down with my arm around her. My eyes met Abigail's, and I gave her a glare. "Abigail, you have to admit it was brave. She stood up to Master to protect Winnie. I mean, come ON." I pleaded with my senior slave, watching her eyes for a sign of sympathy. Abigail sat forward on the barstool, elbows on her knees. With reluctance, she closed her eyes and nodded.

"Yeah. That was pretty cool," she conceded.

"It was very cool," Kat agreed.

"Thanks girls," Margaret said, her head hanging. "It feels nice to have my friends supporting me."

Abigail made a face, and I shot her another glare.

"Of course," I replied to Margaret. "Master had no reason to treat you like that. It was very cruel," Margaret recoiled, facing me.

"No, Master had every reason to treat me however he chooses! I was belligerent. He did nothing wrong."

I silently contemplated her words. In hindsight, trying to convince Margaret that Master was out of line was like trying to convince anyone else that two plus two is three.

"Margaret, he was going to force Winnie back out to the servant's quarters. That's shitty even in good weather. Surely you can see he was wrong," I pleaded.

"Whatever decision he makes is the right one," Margaret said. "He can't be wrong." I didn't have a reply to that. I mean, how the hell could I? She'd certainly given me a glimpse into her mind though.

She had risked her position and physical safety to defy Mr. Morgan, and in the very next moment affirmed that he could do no wrong. The amount of cognitive dissonance required would impress a priest in a brothel. Nonetheless, the whole encounter had left me cautiously optimistic. Even if she couldn't admit it, She knew deep down that there were more important things than Master's favor.

Abruptly, Margaret stood.

"I have work to do. Thank you all so much for checking on me. I'll pass on your superlative performance to Master."

"Uh, yeah, you okay, Maggy?" I asked her, confused by her swiftly returning professionalism. She gave me a hug, only slightly less awkward than the first time we had hugged.

"Of course. Thank you," She hugged Kat too, which surprised the squirrely brunette. I was pleased to see Kat return the embrace. Margaret walked past Abigail, who slouched on her stool, arms crossed, and simply nodded.

"Good afternoon, ladies," Margaret said, and made her wait outside.

The door closed, and Abigail spoke.

"'I'll pass on your superlative performance' what a twat," She imitated Margaret's much higher pitched voice with comical exaggeration. I shook my head slowly.

"That's her way of saying thank you for being here," I tried to explain solemnly.

"You're wrong on this, Abs," Kat said, surprising me. Given her previous feelings on Margaret, I thought she'd join right in with the mockery. "What Margaret did was really cool. Like, -really- cool. She's Master's favorite, and that means a lot to her, so standing up to him like that means even more from her than it would from any of us. It was super brave. You need to lay off her."

My heart filled with love for the spunky, talkative woman. I wanted to squeeze Kat as she soberly addressed Abigail. The athletic woman seemed just as shocked as I was about Kat telling her off. Her mouth opened to say something, but she closed it again, shaking her head.

"I guess you're right. It was very brave. But she's been so shitty to me and my friends for so long... I don't know if I can just act like she's okay."

"I really believe she's a decent person," I said, "If we show her we care about her, then she'll love us back... or at least she'll 'pass on our superlative performance'," I indulged in a little high pitched mockery. I know I shouldn't have, but it broke the tension and we all laughed.

The three of us walked back to the servant's quarters together.

Kat held my hand! She's so cute, and so fun, and so kind. She makes me feel so good!

Also, in the middle of the walk, Abigail admitted to me even more that I was right about Margaret. After all, she remembers when Margaret actually was kind and decent to be around. Abigail seems to think a lot of it has to do with how critical Master is. She said he constantly pushes her to be perfect. According to Abigail, Margaret is under enormous pressure, and

"That's probably why she's such an enormous bitch."

I'm starting to get through to her!

She also told me that I've been making big waves since I've been here. I guess that's good.

Maggy is calling me.

Feb. 24

Yesterday, Margaret called me up to her room. I was surprised to find that she was excited for me. It turns out, Mr. Morgan had requested that I come alone to his bedroom at 10PM sharp (I bet Margaret added 'sharp'). I wasn't surprised that he had requested me; Winnie and Kat both had mentioned he liked to have solo sex with his new slaves. What did surprise me was Margaret's reaction.

"I'm really excited for you!" She said with a smile, taking my hand and squeezing. I smiled back, excited and nervous.

"Any advice for a newbie?" I asked, hoping to learn from Margaret's extreme experience with Master's libido. Margaret shrugged.

"You're trained at Mason's. You got this! But..." She continued to surprise me with her encouragement, "...I've got something better than advice."

I was worried he'd still be in a bad mood, and when I knocked on his large, heavy door, my concerns seemed to be grounded.

"Yeah! come in," He shouted through the doors. I entered quietly. Outwardly I wore only my nightclothes and a pair of slippers, but underneath...

Margaret is not the same size as me. She is both bustier and taller; but the matching gartered underwear and bra set she had graciously lent me were mercifully adjustable. They were uncomfortable, but the look was worth a touch of discomfort.

The black straps wrapped my thighs, attached to a slinky pair of black silk panties. The bra almost left me bare, cupping my breasts and lifting only slightly (Probably more suited to Margaret). Not to brag, but I'd done a few twirls in Margaret's mirror after pulling the underwear on and uh, yeah, I was smoke show.

I was so shocked when she'd offered them to me. That's huge progress, right? She's so jealous of anyone receiving affection from Master, I would never have thought she'd send some sexy underwear with her competition.

Kat said she thinks it's because Margaret thinks Master will think Margaret is thinking of him, and so he'll think highly of Margaret thinking of him by thinking of me.

It made more sense when Kat said it.

Anyway, I entered the room feeling uncomfortable but confident. I was pleased to see Master's harsh voice was a product of a phone conversation he was having, and not anything directed at me. He paced the floor between his bathroom and bed, gesturing with his left hand vividly.