Sunday Morning

Sunday morning is slow. Many of the girls sleep in, reserving their energy for the afternoon. Gloria’s on breakfast duty.

The only other person in the kitchen when you get there is Niemira. She’s on lunch duty and has already started preparing. Sunday lunches are the biggest and most elaborate meal of the week, with the longest preparation time. Those girls who can cook use this meal to show off their talents, and to try and win the best meal of the month competition. It’s the only meal that’s guaranteed for everyone to sit down and eat at the same time. It also by convention consists of 3 courses. One of the reasons why there’s no Sunday dinner duty. The other being the Sunday orgy gets in the way.

By the time you’ve finished breakfast Morgane and Belka have appeared. You’d kissed them good morning. You kiss them goodbye. Then head to the library to sit and relax for the morning.

By lunchtime all the girls are up and helping Niemira dish up. Lucy was the last to rouse, needing Gloria and Belka to help her out of your bed, and guided to the dining room, where she now sits while everyone bustles around her. That’s normal. Lucy needs most of Sunday to recover from solo night duty.

Niemira’s meal is extravagant, a starter of small salmon tarts and a rice salad, main of spiced lamb, accompanied by numerous side dishes, both roast and mashed potatoes, tender stem broccoli, peas and carrots, finishing off with various fruit pies, apple, blackberry and pear. Niemira is a decent cook, one of the best in the house, but unlike all the others she doesn’t have a signature dish. She never produces a bad meal, but she’s never created an outstanding meal either. Which is why she’s never won the monthly best meal contest. She’s pulled out all the stops this time. It’s delicious, but not outstanding.

You can see her disappointment when she tastes each course. This won’t win her the contest this month either. When it comes to taking away the dishes, she can’t hide her gloomy face.

“Everything ok?” you ask her and wrap your arms around her. There’s nothing like a hug and kiss from you and maybe a quick grope to cheer your girlfriends up. So you hug her, kiss her and gently squeeze one breast.

“I thought I’d got it right this time,” is Niemira’s reply. “I tried so hard.”

“Your failures make others’ successes look like failures.” You hug, kiss and grope her again, and you can see the cheer start to edge its way back into her face. You let her go, slapping her ass as you do. “Better hurry cleaning up, only an hour before the excitement begins. Where are we holding it today?”

You throw the question to the room. Gloria answers, “The games room.”

“Two flights of stairs. Are you sure you can get Lucy up them?” you jest.

“Maybe we should leave her behind,” Sybil asks. “She’s in no state to take part.”

“She’ll want to watch.”

“I want to watch,” Lucy agrees with you.

“You old pervert, come on then,” Sybil replies. Morgane and Sybil guide Lucy from the table where she has picked at her food and not taken part in any conversation. That’s her usual contribution to Sunday. Morgane and Sybil will guide her to the games room and leave in an armchair. She’ll watch the festivities. Not take part. You’ve fucked all sense, reason and energy out of her. Tomorrow she’ll return to being a member of the human race.