"Thank you Master Owen. Master Yves-Marchant will see you now." Thank you," Owen replied but regretted it instantly. One didn't thank slaves in situa...ions like this. One simply proceeded. He'd have to be careful. The Brits were big on this "decorum" bullshit, especially upper class, double-barrelled French ones like Marchant. The girl replied simply by bowing her head even lower and staring at Owen's feet. Girl number two stood, opened the door to Marchant's office and knelt with her hand. "I'm happy with standing and staring, but if that's not good enough for you..." I quickly rummaged through my dresser and handed her a pair of boxers and a clean t-shirt."Do you mind if I shower?" she asked, accepting the clothes. "I'm still fucking freezing. I need to thaw out." Sure, go ahead," I replied, "unless you'd like me to help you warm up in different way." She threw me one of her looks and started for the bathroom. 'Worth a try, ' I thought to myself as I picked up her wet clothes. More

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