The sound of the bell coming from the living room told me that my Mistress had use for me, and I felt a jolt of joy rush down my spine upon hearing it. Idle time was always dull at best and painful at worst, as I was not made to sit on my hands and wait, but to serve and bring pleasure; and in that, find my own. And if I was a good slave and a good girl, maybe even find my Bliss.

I left my private room in the slave quarters, which my Mistress provided and furnished in simple, yet cosy, way. I walked across the halls of Mistress’ manor. I was wearing my usual slave uniform, the only thing I was allowed to wear unless given explicit instructions; an underbust corset that left my small, perky breasts easily at Mistress’ reach, a gorgeous black leather collar with my name engraved on it in silver, along with the words ‘Property of Meredith’ just underneath. As a slave, I had no possessions but of all the things entrusted to my care by my owner, the collar was the one I treasured the most, because it marked me as something valuable, and most important, as something worth owning. Whenever I felt nervous, I gently caressed that leather tight on my neck and it brought me peace. Beyond the collar and corset, I had stockings up to my thighs, and simple black panties, which covered my sex and were tied by strings to either side of my hips, making them easy to remove at Mistress’ pleasure, or the pleasure of her guests.

Mistress Meredith was lounging on a loveseat at the sunlit solar of her home, overlooking her luscious garden, and wearing nothing but a light and sheer black gown. She was a mature woman, with a gorgeous motherly figure, large breasts, thick hips and just a hint of softness to her belly. Auburn hair descended in waves across her shoulders and light freckles across her collar and face. She was a goddess to me; perfect in every way, and with a beauty that brought tears of zealous worship to my eye. My heart was already racing when I watched her put down the silver bell used to summon me and I knelt in front of the loveseat, lowering my head.

“This one is ready to serve, Mistress...” I said, avoiding using the first person, as that was one of Mistress’ rules.

“Oh, my lovely Alma. Always so eager to be of service, aren’t you?”

“This one is very happy to make herself useful,” I said, trying to maintain composure.

Mistress moved in her seat, shifting from her lounging bed to sit on the edge of it, and then her hands gestured to the side of the room. I had not noticed the other person with us as my attention was on my Mistress as I was taught. I was startled momentarily when she pointed the man to me. He was wearing a smart-cut suit, tightly tailored to his large, muscular frame, with well-cut short hair, shaved on the sides, and an imposing firm jaw. My eyes drew down to the creases in his grey slacks. My mouth watered and my sex was soon to follow as I dared to guess at my Mistress’ intentions.