My new situation has been going well. I have visited with my guest a few times in the last week. We get along well. We have a lot of sex. Not much talking. It is all pleasant enough. At least I am not at the pools or cleaning toilets during the time we are together. Being with a guest in private is enough to shift responsibilities.
He has reserved me for several days and we spent the time eating and having sex. We ordered some recipe ingredients, and I made a seafood stir fry. It felt good to cook again for someone. I was almost able to forget our situation. This man who was no longer a stranger and yet still is. It is almost like a new romance.
It sure beat working in the kitchens or cleaning the toilets. Sleeping in his comfy bed, next to a warm human was divine. I had forgotten what it is like. Even before I was kidnapped, it had been a while since I have spent the night with someone. At some point, I expect, I will need to go back to work. For the time being, I would enjoy the food, lounging, and sex as best I could.
Some part of me wants to let go, and treat our situation as if it is a real romance, but there is still this feeling that he is treating me like a delicate pet he can have his way with. I can see now why some of the women seem happy here. If I could spend most of my time here, with him, I might forget that I’m a slave.
He told me almost in passing that there are no cameras or recording devices in the rooms of the guests. I am not sure why he told me. It seemed like a slip up at first, but it could have been intentional. Maybe he wants me to feel more at ease here, with him. Maybe he wants me to know he has power over me in his room. Whatever the reason, it is oddly comforting knowing I am not being spied on when I am with him.
It would make a certain sense that the guests have privacy in their rooms. No one likes being watched by others. These men are all about their personal freedom, even from each other. They just don’t believe in personal freedom for anyone else.
Apparently, the portable maid’s stations used for cleaning had their own cameras in them. For this reason, the stations don’t enter the residential areas. They are left in the hallway when slaves came in to clean the rooms. I assume it is also a sign that someone is in the room.
I found a place to stash my notes, underneath a drawer in the kitchen, while he was away for several hours. I am debating moving my notes here. I might try to gather them and move them here next time he called me to his room.
They would be safer, but I worry about losing access to them if he decides he does not want me anymore. I’ll have to weigh the options.