Master's Favorite Toy Ch. 04

"Well, no, but that might solve th-,"

In a moment of epiphany, I turned to Emily.

"Do you want to be pregnant?" I asked.

Shocked, Emily shook her head vigorously.

"No. She does not," I confirmed.

Margaret refused to be distracted, clicking through files and Emails as she spoke.

"Good. One less thing I'd have to deal with. What do you want, Emily?" Margaret asked. I looked at the frightened young woman, waving her into Margaret's office and reassuring her with a nod. Emily spoke with a tremble in her voice, stopping to swallow nervously more than once.

Emily's reaction made me consider how terrifying Margaret must be if you're on her bad side.

"Well, ma'am, the thing is, I, uh, well, Master's not my-, I mean I'm not his favorite. It was Marcie's idea to ask you if maybe you could tell me how to change that. To convince Mr. Morgan to like me more," Emily cringed as she finished her sentence, expecting the worst.

Margaret sighed and laid her head on one hand. She still didn't face us, leaning heavily on her desk. A moment passed, and the Head Slave sat back, huffing angrily. Emily and I both recoiled. For a second, I thought I'd been wrong to ask for help, and feared Emily had been right. The head slave seemed incredibly stressed about something.

Margaret angrily hammered the backspace key, cursing to herself. I relaxed as I realized she was frustrated with whatever data was on her computer monitor, and not with Emily.

"Okay, and uh, why do you care if Master likes you or not?" Margaret asked, very distracted.

"Well, ma'am, I like it here a lot. I have friends here. But my intuition tells me he might sell me soon," Emily explained.

"Damn it!" Margaret almost shouted, startling Emily and I for a second time. She highlighted a large portion of her screen and slapped the delete button on her keyboard, removing a vast section of cells from her spreadsheet. Silence followed as she continued typing.

"...Margaret?" I eventually pried.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Margaret looked up from her work, swiveling halfway around to address Emily. Sighing deeply, Margaret ran a finger across her golden choker, the sadness in her face betraying the emotional burden of the necklace.

"I don't have a better way to tell you this. I'm sorry. Master already asked me to find a buyer for you," Margaret said solemnly.

Emily's eyes widened, and she looked as if she might cry. She hung her head.

"Oh. Well that's it then," She sighed with dejection.

"Oh sweetheart!" I stepped forward and offered a hug, which Emily accepted, squeezing me hard and laying her head on my shoulder. I turned us both to look at Margaret, scowling at her like a disappointed mother. Silently, Margaret raised her open hands, shrugging as if to say 'what?'.

"Can't you help us?" I pleaded, rubbing Emily's back gently.

"Sure. All I have to do is nothing. It'll be two, maybe three weeks before Master remembers he asked me." Margaret offered.

"Could you change his mind?" I asked. Margaret thought for a moment, rolling her head side to side. Her eyes stared into nothing as she considered my request.

"Maybe," she eventually replied, "Probably not."

"It's okay. It's fine," Emily said, trying to convince someone, but certainly not Me or Margaret, "This will be okay. I - I'll make new friends. A fresh start could be good."

"No!" I interjected, "I won't let that happen. You have friends here. We'll come up with something. We'll make you seem so irresistible to Master, he'll-..." My eyes widened.

"My assignment!" I shouted, surprising both of the other women, "We'll, we'll do my assignment, and we'll make it, her, your, Emily, your story will be so good! Something tailored to Master," I stumbled over my words in excitement.

Emily was confused, and Margaret winced.

"Marcie, you care so much. You're so loving," The head slave began to say, but I wouldn't hear it.

"We have to try, Maggy," I pleaded, "You'll try, won't you Emily?" I asked. A very confused Emily shrugged.

"Sure, once I know what it is you want me to do," She conceded. I looked at Margaret eagerly. She looked tired, hopeless even. A slight smile broke her pessimistic visage, and she shrugged.

"You're the best friend anyone could hope for, Marcie."

March 5, evening

"Okay, so you all know Emily," I gestured to the young woman seated on the floor beside me. She gave a halfhearted wave to the assembled council. On the couch across from us sat Yvette, her long dark hair tossed over one shoulder, and a confused, irritated look fixed on her face.

The gorgeous, much more mature woman sitting next to her was, fortunately, only confused.

"Sure," Abigail said, narrowing her eyes as if working a puzzle. Next to those two, Kat sat forward, her knees bumping eagerly. The squirrely brunette smiled ear to ear, excitement dripping from her pores.

"Yes! She was Master's most recent purchase before Yvette. He got really drunk at a friends house, and asked to fuck her, and the friend said not unless you buy her, and Master waved around his checkbook and loudly said-"

Kat's voice dropped three octaves in a mockery of Master:

"-'I could buy every slave in the state, send her to my bed,' and then Margaret told me later that he regret-..." Kat stopped herself, perhaps one of the few times her self awareness had successfully trumped her prattling. "-regretted not getting her sooner," She finished with an unconvincing lie.

Emily winced, she rubbed one arm, her eyes boring into the carpet. To the far left side of the room, a long, dejected sigh echoed from Margaret. She had agreed to attend, but was highly skeptical.

"Marcie, what do you need us here for?" Yvette asked.

"Okay okay okay, so you guys know how I've been writing down everyone's sexual fantasies? Well, I was about to do Emily's when I found out Master wants to sell her. But she wants to stay! So I thought what if we came up with the best sexual fantasy ever? Well, not the best per se, but the one Master would like the most? Something to make him want to keep Emily."

"So you want us to help you come up with... Master's ideal sexual encounter? And call it Emily's?" Abigail asked. A smile forced its way onto her face, and she shook her head. "Probably won't change his mind."

"Pretty silly, even for me," Kat confirmed.

With a grunt of frustration, Yvette stood from her seat.

"Ugh. Why am I here?" She asked, "I don't know anything about this."

"Because you're my friend and I like you being here," I protested.

I don't like to get whiny, but I could tell my voice was tending that direction. The constant negativity was starting to frustrate me. It was important to me to help Emily. I needed my friends on this.

Yvette sighed, sitting back down on the couch. My eyes flicked to the side, meeting Margaret's. The cold blue gaze of the pessimistic woman was filled with pity. I was glad when Abigail cut back into the conversation.

"This is easy," The experienced slave said, "Just come up with a new story for Kat, and use whatever weird, orgiastic garbage Kat told you in place of Emily's. Done. You're welcome. Meeting adjourned." Abigail mimed banging a gavel.

"He's not that simple," Margaret surprised us all by interrupting.

"Yeah! I had lots of fit, dark haired bisexual twinks in my story. Master wouldn't like that," Kat corrected us.

"I think you've added some descriptors to those twinks, Kat," I said.

"I've had time to think about it," Kat replied with a proud smile.

I returned my attention to Margaret, confused.

"What do you mean 'He's not that simple,'? You were about to do the same thing with your story."

"I was getting the job done, not perfecting it. Master's actual fantasies are much... sadder." Margaret replied. We all waited quietly, hoping our fearless leader would expand on her thoughts. The head slave rolled her eyes. She exuded an enormous amount of 'If you want a job done right...' energy.

"Emily," Margaret said the woman's name slowly, as if preparing to explain a simple concept to a toddler. "Are you prepared to approach Master and pretend you're falling in love with him?"

Emily stared back at Margaret with a slack jaw, unable to answer. Abigail happily covered for her.

"Oh shit, yeah, I forgot Master's a sad, awkward, loser." It would have been funny in any other context. Margaret shrugged, opening her hands.

"There you go," She said.

Quietly, barely softer than a whisper, Emily replied.

"I don't think I could do that."

I tried to think of something to say, but I found nothing. Margaret was probably right. Master wasn't that complicated.

"It's probably for the best if I just move on," Emily continued. I caught her eye. She was sad, her expression hurt, but she was resigned to her fate.

"We can try Kat's thing," I said, desperately grasping.

"I don't... I'm not willing to fight it. I think it's for the best if I just move on. Why would I want to stay with a Master who doesn't care for me anyway? I'd have to be fake all the time. That sounds horrible," Emily said. I shrugged. My frustration was growing.

"I'm gonna miss you girls," Emily said.

There was a general commotion of the room as everyone stood to talk to Emily. I remained seated on the floor as they hugged, said kind things, and prepared to say goodbye. Margaret promised to find Emily a nice home. Abigail told her that she was a great slave and deserved better. Finally, Emily pulled me to my feet, hugging me.

"Thank you for trying, Marcie. It's just not a struggle I want to take on." She said.

I hugged back, said something insipid about missing her, and excused myself from the room.

Behind me, I could still hear the murmur of my friends, reminiscing sadly. I walked out to the front porch, next to the swing where I had stayed up late with Winnie weeks before. Grasping the railing, I tried to relax. The whole situation frustrated me. I looked up at the sky, noticing a bright moon between cracks in the cloud cover. It was a perfect, cool, spring night.

I was startled by the sound of the door closing. I turned, expecting to see Kat coming outside to check on me, but to my surprise it was Margaret. The tall beauty wore her nightclothes, a ridiculous peach colored gown and fuzzy slippers. She looked like a Barbie doll, complete with accessories. The silliness of her outfit always lightened my mood a little bit.

"You took that harder than Emily did," She said, leaning on the rail next to me.

"Maybe," I replied, gazing up at the moon.

"Why?" she asked. I sighed, gritting my teeth.

"I don't know. I'm super competitive. This feels like a loss, I guess."

"You cared, didn't you? You were really invested in helping Emily with her problem," Margaret turned around, leaning her back on the railing.

"Yeah, of course," I replied, "I know she's giving up, but it feels like I failed her. And now she has to leave her friends."

I waited for a moment, as Margaret seemed to be struggling with her response. She stared back into the house for a long time.

"You're just a genuinely caring person," She said. Margaret shivered, the cold March air penetrating her nightgown. "You cared about me. You care about everyone around you. You're such a loving person, Marcie."

I was as terrible as ever at taking a compliment, but Margaret's warm words did help me feel a little better.

"Aw, Margaret, you're gonna make me blush," I replied, reaching for a hug. Margaret accepted my hug, wrapping her arms around me. I was confused for a second as she gripped me. The head slave's hands seemed to be shaking.

"Can I say something stupid?" She asked, out of nowhere.

"Sure," I replied with a laugh, "I could use the company."

She withdrew from the hug halfway, looking into my eyes with her arms still around my back.

"Marcie, you're so, so kind... I just," She tried to speak, but her voice was cracking, and she looked extremely worried.

"You okay?" I asked, suddenly concerned for my friend. "You know you can talk to me," I reassured her.

A resoluteness took Margaret's perfect face, and with conviction, she pulled me closer. With one hand on my back, holding me tightly, she laid another hand on my chest.

Margaret kissed me on the mouth tenderly. Her eyes were screwed shut, and she held her lips to mine.

Every organ in my body jumped a quarter of an inch in different, incompatible directions.

Margaret broke the kiss, released me, and backed up, her eyes wide with shock.

"Oh god," She said quietly, "Oh fuck."

I couldn't reply, only meeting her wide-eyed stare in return.

"Um..." I made sounds, but no words came out.

"I shouldn't have done that," She said.

"Um..." I replied.

"I'm so sorry," Margaret desperately pleaded, "Don't hate me," with that, the beautiful woman bolted through the door into the servant's quarters and up the stairs, hurrying as fast as her fuzzy pink slippers could carry her.

I watched her flee, and flicked my eyes to Kat. My beautiful, hyper-active, sort of friend, sort of lover, stared at me with wide eyes. I still said nothing as our eyes met. Kat shook her head.

"I guess we need to talk about that," She said.