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.