It’s March Madness and the Las Vegas Casinos goes into overdrive.  That means one little fluffy slave gets overworked in her vanilla job, trying to keep everyone pleased, happy, and spending the money.  When that final ball drops into that final basket on that final weekend (or whenever it’s supposed to all end!), this slave will be needing a vacation.  Do slaves get vacations?

Ever since the college basketball tournaments started, my job has been dedicated to helping our casino hosts prepare suites, meals, and providing “extra” privileges to our special guests.   Normally I am helping them with the high rollers.  Usually, older men who are coming here to spend a few hundred thousand or millions at the craps tables or blackjack.  Those guys are easy to please.  A well-appointed suite facing the Strip, some fine wines, a day at the spa with a day at the golf course along with fine meals and a show ticket. They are so easy to please.

The younger guys?  They are here to play like they were back in college and being boys in the stands cheering on their Alma mater.  Just this time it’s with a few more dollars in the bank and a few more price demands.  They want party favorites in that top floor suite.  Special TV’s, snacks, drinks, towels, and dedicated service.  That includes finding the right kind of “cheerleaders” they may want to have with them while getting drunk, rowdy, and spreading the wealth.  Not something the average casino host can fill or even wants to fill.  So that’s where I come in. the little fluffy energizer bunny that loves to serve and loves to please!

of course, my wonderful Master-Sir made sure that if I was needed, i would be there to serve (dressed) and be put to good use by my Boss for pleasing the guests and making sure it all went as they had wanted it to.  Meaning 12-14 hour days, weekends, and lots of overtime.  The casino hosts loved that I had “volunteered” for this assignment and that I promised to give them 110% of my effort and energy.  

They were now freed up to chase after the 20-somethings with trust funds and gambling issues that made the house it’s real money.  Service is what I live for is what I kept telling myself every time I needed to chase after some wanna be account executive who had too much Pabst beer and boobs and was running around the pool area not properly clothed. Or when the Jacuzzi stopped working in the Penthouse Suite because 30 people were trying to take a bath and have sex in it with Mr Bubble and i needed to make sure they were not “inconvenienced” while waiting for the house plumber.

If this rant makes no sense, please forgive me and send me an email and I will explain!

After a day (or night) filled with all that excitement, i would head home to a waiting Master-Sir and find that he was already in Basketball party mode with a few invited friends and several hotel guests not wanting to party in the sterile confines of a Casino.  Wanting to see how the working people of Las vegas celebrated the college playoffs.

I would then be required to slip into my Domestic Servant mode and start to catch up with them.  Clean up any messes, make sure they all had drinks. They knew i was there to serve them and to please them and make sure nobody drank and drove.  if vanillas were there, Master-Sir would warn me before I got home not to get naked.  if not, i would assume it was ok to enter the house, as usual, naked and start looking everything over and seeing if my owner had special requests before I get busy serving.  Nothing sexual except this past Sunday.  otherwise, it was all serving drinks, cleaning the bathrooms, cooking dinner and serving desserts.

Not that I am complaining.  not that a slave complaining would do any good.  But it felt like I was burning out and forgetting things (like renewing this domain) because it was one blurry stream of serving, parties and pleasing.  Knowing i was going home to a house full of people, maybe most of them I had no idea who they would be, i would have to go in naked and serve them was exciting, erotically humiliating even if there was no sex involved and such a rush.

The first couple of weekends, Miss Evvy was out of town on business, so it was all men.  last weekend Miss Evvy was home, she added some femininity to it all plus there was another couple Master-Sir met at the resort He works at and invited them over to watch the games. Everyone got to enjoy Miss Evvy’s BBQ and my domestic service.  being from a colder climate, they also loved the warm, clean pool!

Afterward, Master-Sir would give me a kiss and tell me when or if he wanted me upstairs.  I would spend a few hours cleaning everything up, hoping to hear His voice calling me up to serve His needs, to maybe have Him finally fuck His slave.  but that never came to be. I would just do my duties around the house then go to kneel by His door and wait to be invited in to prepare Him and His room for sleeping.    He would use my mouth or my ass then we may talk a bit before falling off to sleep.  Him happy and content, me tired, well worked over, and needing something more.  But yet, i was oh so happy.

Its Not About the Sex

It is times like these that I truly realize my need to be wanted, to serve, and to please.  It’s not sexual, although sex is a really nice side bonus.  But this really fed my needs and my desires to please those I am told to please by the man I have promised to honor and to obey.   I was worked, I was commanded and I was told to perform.

To please difficult people in difficult situations.  Then to go home and strip myself naked in both physical and mental to serve those that were surprised at my ability to please and to serve and who were grateful to my duties.

I was naked, but I was happy.  I was not used sexually, but I was Oh So Happy to be used.  Master-Sir was proud to display me in front of complete strangers He trusted with our secret and that I was excited that he did that with me, to me. That I was His prized pet, His prized servant, and I was welcomed by those He shared me with.

Tired is nice when it is a well earned tired. I love to be of service and to be needed.