Master's Favorite Toy Ch. 04

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Marcie records the slaves' sexual fantasies.
13.1k words
4.74
10.3k
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Part 4 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/15/2023
Created 09/19/2022
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March 2

"Margaret's been kind of strange lately."

I stood before Master, My head bowed and fingers laced in front of my stomach. I was petrified, my eyes searching the floor in wild fear. Of course he had noticed a change in Margaret. How could he not?

Since my arrival one month prior, Margaret had changed radically. The head slave had attempted to give up her position, been reinstated against her will, and had privately renounced her love for our master. I had been there to encourage her every step of the way, even going as far as asserting that the flighty, selfish Mr. Morgan didn't deserve such a loyal, caring slave as she. Now... Master was asking questions.

"She has, sire?" I played dumb. He leaned back on his desk, crossing his arms. His tie was loose, and his shirt sleeves were sloppily rolled above his forearms.

"Since you arrived, yeah," He replied.

My heart pounded. I could feel myself shaking. Was he blaming me for the coldness of his favorite slave? He wouldn't be far from the truth. Would I be punished? Sold to another master, maybe? I couldn't imagine losing all of the new friends.

"The sex has been a lot worse lately." He was irritated, as if his washing machine was leaking on the floor. His terse attitude was a grim reminder of how he saw Margaret. He sighed, showing his irritation. With an expository hand gesture, he commanded me. "She seems to like you a lot, so I want you to be a good girl and sort that out for me. Thanks."

I relaxed, relieved that he wasn't angry with me. All I had to do was 'fix' Margaret for Master.

"Um, I do have a couple, sire. You said the sex has been worse? In what way?" I asked.

"I don't know. She just doesn't seem to be into it, you know? I mean, she still does everything I ask, but there's no soul. I'm tired of fucking a dead starfish." He explained.

"What does she usually enjoy about sex, Master? What could be missing?" I looked up at his eyes, doing my best to seem confused. I knew very well what was missing. Was he really so clueless? Master furrowed his brow.

"Uh... I don't know. Usually she just... likes sex," He answered.

I closed my eyes, suppressing the urge to scream. He'd been having sex with Margaret for who knows how long, and he'd never asked her what she likes?

"Is it possible, Sire, forgive me for asking, that some quality she enjoys about sex has recently been absent?"

Last month, Margaret had told him, to his face, that she no longer loved him the way she used to. Surely he was not oblivious enough to miss what was right in front of him. I tried to gently coax him, hoping he might stumble clumsily into the obvious.

He thought for a moment, his squinted eyes burrowing into me. I felt the breeze as my point went over his head.

"Yeah. Maybe. Ask her what she likes when she has sex." Mr. Morgan gave the least sexy order imaginable, which was especially heinous because his orders are usually very unsexy anyway.

"Yes sire," I bowed, and turned to leave.

"Actually," He stopped me, and I faced him, "Why don't you ask all the girls? You do a journal, right?"

"Yes, sire." I replied. My journaling habits had probably been relayed to him by Margaret, prior to their falling-out.

"Great. This could be fun!" He smiled, assuring himself of his own ingenuity. "Here's what I want: Interview all of my slaves individually. Ask them what an ideal sexual encounter would look like for them. Write it down for me."

"Yes sire." With this final injunction, he waved me out.

"Dismissed."

So now I've got to talk to everyone, ask them one of the most intimate questions imaginable, then write down their response right in front of them. I'm not thrilled about the massive invasion of privacy I'm about to commit. I guess there are worse things he could order me to do, being a pleasure slave.

Here's my thoughts:

Yvette, Kat, Winnie, and Abigail will be easy. I know them pretty well already. They're my friends. It will be awkward, but doable.

Margaret is kind of a wild card. I think she'll talk to me, though she might not want me to share her thoughts with Master. Their relationship is (Obviously) a bit sensitive right now.

I don't know Emily and Shauna that well. This will likely be my first real interaction with either of them, outside of 'Hi! / Good morning. / How are you? / Fine.' So, not a strong start to our relationship.

I'll get started tomorrow. Master probably won't even think to ask about it for at least a week.

March 3, Morning

Winnie is the natural first choice. She's older, more mature, really, really cool and calm. Plus, the one time Kat had spoken about Winnie's sexual predilections, my squirrely friend had described the older slave thusly:

"Oh yeah, Winnie used to be a real freak. She'd try anything. She's mellowed out a lot, sexually. She used to be down for it constantly."

I figured Winnie wouldn't be bothered at all by the strange question.

It was a late breakfast when I found the pregnant woman sitting down for a quick meal. I took a seat across from her. The silver choker around her neck reminded me of her status as Master's second favorite slave. And her delighted smile on seeing me reminded me of her kindness.

"Can I ask you a weird question?" I was down to business, plopping my journal on the table and clicking my pen. She looked curiously between my journal and me.

"Of course. Will you be writing down my answer?" She asked.

"If that's okay with you," I replied. I seemed to have caught her interest, because she placed her fork to the side, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hands.

"Go on," She said. Taking a deep breath, I plunged right in.

"How would you describe an ideal sexual encounter?" I emphasized 'ideal'. Her eyebrows raised in surprise, and she laughed.

"Are you trying to start a smut library? Why on Earth do you need to write that down?" She asked. I tapped the book with one finger.

"Master's orders."

Winnie frowned. Bringing Master into the matter had clearly eroded her levity.

"Mmm, well, I guess I don't have a choice then. My ideal sexual encounter..." She sat quietly, thinking. "I suppose I've already experienced my ideal sexual encounter," She replied, "Shall I describe it?"

I hesitated. I'd prepared myself to write down awkward and embarrassing fantasies, but actual, real life sexual experiences seemed dirtier somehow.

"Well, like you said... we don't really have a choice," I shrugged. I was hoping to pin this on Master as much as possible. I didn't want Winnie to think I was being a weirdo. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"No, I guess we don't.

Several years ago, I belonged to a swinger couple..."

_________________________________________________________________

Gary and Sandy were a handsome, energetic couple. Aged somewhere in their mid forties, the two had been sexually insatiable since they purchased me. I'm not exaggerating when I say there was rarely a day that would go by where I didn't have sex with at least one of them, usually both.

I suppose this happened about three months into my time with them. They'd been going out to swinger parties for a few weeks before they decided to bring me along. I fully expected to have sex with a few strangers, spend some time with Gary and Sandy, and come home. I was completely unprepared for what actually happened.

When I arrived at the small suburban home, there was an eclectic mix of people. Some old, some young, all different shades, heights, builds. People were being friendly, they were all clothed, and things seemed warm and friendly. I followed Sandy and Gary around in the beginning of the night, politely quiet. I was sometimes a topic of conversation, including several people who requested my masters' permission to fondle me. This was granted, and several people helped themselves to me. It was dirty fun, having strangers touch and caress me over my clothes. Their lustful touches started my engine, so to speak, and I was vibing with the feel of the party as people started to loosen their inhibitions.

People around us were slowly escalating. The sexual tension throughout the home was becoming unbearable, but I wouldn't be allowed to follow the party's energy naturally. Instead, I was led to the homeowner's sex dungeon. They had adorned the walls with whips, kinky restraints, and pornography.

Sandy was nowhere to be seen, so it was Gary who ordered me to remove my clothing. He and the male homeowner were whispering to each other and laughing as I undressed. Once I was nude, The home's owner approached me with a blindfold, covering my eyes. I was led to a low bench, which I attempted to feel out with my hands. Completely blind, I was guided to lay on my back. I was handcuffed above my head. From here, my legs were hoisted into stirrups, and pulled up and back, pressing my legs into my chest. My knees crushed my breasts, covering them until I felt the men's hands pulling and tugging my chest so my breasts were pushed together between my knees.

Now remember, through all of this, I had no idea what was planned for me. Obviously they were intending to have sex with me, but I didn't really know what would happen beyond that.

The final touch they provided to my restraint was to tie something around my neck. I didn't know what the tie was for, as it didn't restrain anything, but I felt something hanging loosely around my neck.

The two men stepped back and admired the beauty of their handiwork. Following this, I heard the unbuckling of their belts, and the jingling of keys and the unsnapping of belt-mounted cell phone holsters as dad jeans were tossed aside. There was no warm up, no gentle kisses or caresses. Immediately, I was penetrated. First, just vaginally, but quickly I felt a finger touching my lips, silently ordering me to open my mouth. I complied, and a flaccid cock was pushed between my lips. Sucking eagerly I worked the man into an erection. With a thrill, I realized my blindfold rendered me clueless as to which man was which - and I didn't want to know. I felt so dirty and slutty being fucked by the two men.

They switched several times, taking turns fucking me and forcing their cocks into my mouth. I enjoyed it so much I nearly came. After a few minutes, both men grew bored with me, and they left the room, talking quietly and laughing.

I heard the door swing open, and their footsteps leaving down the hallway, and then nothing. I wriggled in my restraint, twisting awkwardly to allow blood into my extremities. Time slipped past. I began to wonder if they'd simply left me here.

Finally, I heard footsteps approaching, then entering the room, followed by a whispered 'holy shit', from a man. Several seconds of silence followed.

"Hello?" I asked. There was no reply. The footsteps grew closer, and I felt hands on my thighs. The mysterious fingers dragged slowly down to my crotch, cupping my vulva and caressing my labia roughly. The gentle touch sent a thrill through my body, and I pushed against the restraints, thrusting my crotch against the finger eagerly.

Finally, I felt a cock pushing into me, and I moaned involuntarily. It was so, so sexy to be fucked by a completely anonymous stranger. When he was fully inside me, he grabbed at my tits roughly, squeezing and pulling my nipples. I moaned continually as he fucked me. He didn't last long. Maybe thirty strokes in, I heard the shaky, low groans of a man orgasming. With his last thrust, he pushed all the way into me, cupping and squeezing my breast with both hands. He withdrew with a whispered thanks, and to my shock he was immediately replaced. Another man fucked me slowly, enjoying my pussy. I hadn't even heard him entering the room. When I stopped to listen, I could hear the subtle sounds of other bodies in the room. It wasn't long before my mouth was filled too, an eager man pushing his long, hard cock straight down my throat.

After the fourth cock cumming in my pussy, I had surmised there was a line forming. Each man was ready and waiting as soon as the previous man finished. This didn't always mean they'd go to orgasm. I have to assume some men were simply trying me out, and intended to save their load for another time.

My mouth was similarly used. I was treated to mouthful after mouthful of hot cock, some gentle, some fucking my throat roughly. Some came in my mouth, ordering me in a low voice to swallow, some simply sampled my mouth, wrapping my lips around their warm, sweaty shafts - and then moving on.

To my delight, a few women were interested as well. I was pleasantly surprised the first time I felt vaginal lips pressing against my mouth. The bench was low enough. Picturing it, I imagined a woman straddling my head and crouching slightly, gently touching her crotch to my lips. I licked eagerly, ecstatic to taste a woman after so many cocks. There's not many things I like more than being fucked by a cock while eating pussy.

I lost count eventually, but I know I had sex with more than twenty male partners and gave head to a similar number. Perhaps six women enjoyed my mouth, and a few people were even kind enough to go down on me. Though, the sex of those who gave me oral is a complete mystery.

I came an absurd number of times that night. So many many men fucked me so well (and some not so well), I couldn't help but orgasm, over and over again.

I'll admit, after the first hour, the sexiness did fade. By the time Gary and Sandy began to release me from my restraints, the novelty had worn off, and every part of me ached. My throat was bruised, my breasts were raw from the rough hands of the strangers, and my vagina ached.

But I loved it.

Over the following year, I would have the same experience twice more in the same home before Gary and Sandy sold me.

After the first night, they removed my blindfold and showed me what they'd tied around my neck. It was a small handwritten sign that read: 'Free Use Slut. Be Courteous, Use A Condom.' I don't know how many men followed that rule.

I still think about my first time in that house, restrained, confused, and fucked by anonymous strangers. I think about it a lot in the shower, if you catch my drift...

_________________________________________________________________

I licked my lips nervously. I was sitting in the dining room with Winnie. She had just finished her story and, yes, I did catch her drift. I was flustered as I wrote the last of my notes. Her story was... enrapturing.

"Does that answer your question?" Winnie asked, smiling at me coyly.

"Y-..uh, yeah. I'm, wow, thanks for helping out." I replied, flustered. Winnie laughed at me, and I blushed hard.

"Have you spoken with the other women?" she asked, jamming a fork into her stone cold scrambled eggs.

"No, you were the first." I replied. The pregnant woman smiled at me, winking.

"Let me know if anyone tops that," She said.

"Will do," I nervously stood, clicking the pen. "Thanks again,"

"Of course," Winnie replied, "Anything for a friend."

I need a shower.

March 3, Afternoon

On my way out of the bathroom after my shower, I passed Shauna as she was coming in. Shauna was one of the two women I really didn't know very well, so I decided to take the chance to speak with her. She wasn't carrying any clothing or a towel, so I assumed she wasn't planning on showering. I dried in a hurry and collected my pen and paper, standing in the hallway until she finished her business.

"Hey, Shauna, can I bother you for a minute?" I asked, as she stepped out of the bathroom. She stopped suddenly, looking at me incredulously.

"Did you... stand out here waiting for me?" Shauna asked. I hesitated. In hindsight, I understood the social faux pa of hovering outside the door while someone empties their bladder.

"Well, yes. I guess that's kind of weird," I said.

"Kind of," She agreed. We shared a moment of horribly tense silence. I decided to cut my losses.

"Well, I'll catch you later," I said, waving.

"Didn't you want to bother me for a minute?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. I could feel my face warming up, and I changed mental tracks a second time.

"Oh, yeah, it's just this stupid thing Master's got me doing, it's like, super weird, but you know, Master's orders, I don't have a choice." I tried to make it clear that this wasn't a voluntary project.

I should have spoken with Kat or Abigail next. I know them super well. It would have been so much easier.

Shauna rolled her eyes, cringing physically.

"Master's orders? Oh, god, do we have to fuck?" She asked, visibly disgusted.

"No! No," I called, raising my hands defensively. Then, reluctantly, I added, "It is kind of sexual though. I have to, well, Master's asked me to get all of his pleasure slaves to tell me, and I have to write it down, gross, your ideal sexual encounter."

"Oh, that's much better." The young woman relaxed. "No offense," She added.

"Oh yeah, none taken," I tried to smile politely.

"Put me down for doggy style," Shauna said, dismissively.

"You want me to write down just the words, 'doggy style'?" I asked.

"Yeah, is that good enough?" she asked.

"I mean... I guess? I have like, three pages with notes from Winnie," I replied.

"Yeah, Winnie's an interesting lady. Let me know if you need anything else,"

She brushed past me, closing the door to her bedroom. With a sigh, I clicked my pen, and wrote down: 'Shauna - doggy style'.

March 3, Evening

"So what's Shauna's deal?" I sat on the bed in my room, talking to Kat. Our charred quarters were a recent upgrade - the two of us had been given the room after Winnie had moved to the big house.

Kat had been my closest friend since I'd arrived at Mr. Morgan's house. Also my first sexual partner. She's super cute, and really fun, and really sweet. We're kind of an unofficial couple.

"She's an opera singer," Kat replied. The spunky young woman was leaning against a dresser, attempting to close the stubborn drawer with her body weight. Unsuccessful, she pulled a wad of wrinkled clothing free, smashing them back into the drawer. This time, the dresser snapped shut.

"Is she usually friendly?" I asked.

"Eh, she's kind of frosty. She doesn't make friends easily." Kat flopped down on the bed next to me, laying out. "Why do you ask?"

"Are you her friend?" I ignored Kat's question.

"She thinks I talk too much. She even told me that. To my face! It was pretty rude. Master bought her after seeing her on the cover of-,"

"Kat," I interrupted her, "You DO talk too much." Kat feigned an angry glare at me, but it gave way to a cheeky smile. She stuck her tongue out at me.

"Well, it bothers some people more than others," She said.

"I guess so," I replied, returning her smile.

"Did you try to make friends with her?" Kat asked.

"Well, no, not exactly. Actually, I need to ask you the same thing I was talking to her about."

I reached to my bedside table and retrieved my pen and pad. Kat sat up on the bed, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Oooh, are you doing an interview? Am I being promoted? Is this for an article you're writing?" Her eyes widened as a thought occurred to her. "Is this for your journal? You're always writing!" She clapped her hands as if she had cracked the case.

"Nope," I replied, "Well, yes, I'll probably write it in my journal too. But no, this is Master's orders."

"Okay, yes, I'm in. Write me in, I'll do it," She replied, eager.

"Alright, relax," I smiled at my energetic friend. "Here's the question: What is your ideal sexual encounter?"

Nature abhors a vacuum, and Kat abhors silence. She allowed no thoughtful pauses to rudely clutter the space between her words.

_________________________________________________________________

"Okay, I'd definitely want to start with women. Two or three women. These women are super sexy, small busts, maybe one girl with really big tits just to play with. And all three have Abigail's ass, just, transplanted onto their bodies. They come into the room and I guess I'm on a bed. All the women are really eager, and they start in immediately. One of them pushes me back gently, while the other two help pull my clothes off. While they're pulling my clothes off, their hands are everywhere. They're groping my boobs, rubbing my pussy, and not just me, either. They're all over each other. I want to kiss all of them, and so they take turns.