I simply had to accept it... and grovel verbally.“Orange juice with ice. A croissant...”“Yes, Miss.” I hurried off. This woman was obviously a right bitch and I didn’t want to cross her. Time and again a slave-girl has to suppress her feelings of deep, inner fury. I hurried back and saw that more guests had arrived.Kathie was serving them, so everything was all right for the moment. Two more slave-girls would be on the patio by midday when things would start hotting-up. The woman did not even look at me when I delivered her order. I was simply a serving object. Nothing more. I was kept reasonably busy for the first hour but not overworked. I was coping quite well. If only all slave duties could be like this, I thought to myself. A youngish man had joined the table of the woman who had smacked myface. They seemed to know each other. She addressed him as Jason and he called her Claudia. I had not seen the man before; he must be a new arrival.“Champagne. A bottle. Dom Perignon,” he. But my mind and body now were like a spring wound so tightly that it would not take much for it all to break free. Turning off the shower, I wrapped my hair and piled it up on top of my head. Then I grabbed my second towel and began the morning ritual. I tried to focus on what I was going to need to do to schedule meals for Tim and the rest of us when I knew we would not be on the same schedule. But that only made me resentful. And the more I thought about it, the more frustrated I became! I really needed him and he was off firing a load of gun powder instead of giving me his load and it pissed me off. I walked across the bedroom to my dresser and dug out a pair of “normal day” undies and then put them back. I figured why not and instead pulled out a pair that was a little more sexy and fun. No one would see them, but maybe between James’ leering at me and the silky material I might feel more like a private moment later in the day… I pulled them on and loved the way they slid.
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