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Brunette

The servant froze; a sound? Perhaps not. He continued preparing the meal. She had returned in a foul mood and ordered that dinner should be served at seven that evening. Fifteen minutes to go and so far everything was on time. A good meal, fine wine, an intelligent book to read and maybe her anger would fade. Another sound; he froze again, A soft tread on a badly fixed board. His hands started to shake as he stirred the food on the hob, dreading the voice that he knew would come. “Where’s my meal!” Putting down the pan he scurried to the dining room dropping to his knees before her. “It will be ready in ten minutes,” he started “at seven as you requested Madam,” he continued as she smacked him once across his bare arm. “I am not pleased. I am really not pleased. You are paid to anticipate my wishes. Instead you laze around and answer back. Your pleasure will come at a high price. I shall consider way in which you can amuse me tonight. Wine and my meal quickly! Go!” Pausing only to pour her a glass of wine, he returned to his work, trembling, trembling inside at the thought of what might be in store; trying hard not to make a mistake in his terror. Oddly, he loved her and wished only to serve her well. She had rescued him from the gutter of despair, educated him and given him a home. She could be amusing and even kind but when frustrated in achieving what she thought was right she could be cold and cruel. And as she had to keep up appearances almanbahis in public, he was her only source on which to vent her anger, and he knew that he didn’t mind. He was aware that today had been bad for her and so he had prepared as good a meal as he possible. She stood in the candle lit room and pondered. She was tall and dignified, good looking and frustrated. It seemed a shame to have to use her servant so, but she paid him well. Without him she would be lost, and if, from time to time, he needed a little encouragement to reach her standards of perfection then so be it. She could give him pleasure, she could give him pain, she would do what she felt was appropriate, her judgement was law. She was mistress he was servant, each knew their place and their duty. She knew he was loyal and respected him for it. Once, she had hit him absent-mindedly with her riding crop when a friend, if that was the word, was present. Of course nothing was said, but later she happened to hear this woman telling her servant, her servant mind you, that he should not have to put up with such behaviour. She smiled with the recollection of his answer. “What my mistress, whom I am honoured to serve, chooses to do to me is her business and mine and I would thank you not to interfere.” That friend had not been seen since. She wondered if perhaps he liked being beaten, perhaps he needed it. Anyway she would do what she would do. She thought of her day in the town almanbahis yeni giriş that day and her anger increased. The noise, the youths, their clothes, all that had seemed ordered in the past was now chaotic. She had tried to help some of the needy, to offer them the benefits of her knowledge and experience but they yawned, they were bored. They hogged the space of others; they demanded respect but never gave it. At least her servant had some intelligence and she had taught him respect. But she was hungry and he was not prepared, a small snack would have kept her content until the meal. So he would suffer. Men should learn about pain. All her life she had suffered and men just ignored it. So he would feel some of her pain tonight and the tension would go from her. Though perhaps, she mused, she might offer him some pleasure, a reward if he acts well. She laughed, men think of one thing only and done properly, rewarding him could perhaps reward her. The servant made final adjustments to the meal making sure it was hot throughout. This meal lost all of its attraction when it got cold and the sauces congealed. He wished they had a hot plate for the table but he would remember to return the dishes to the stove between servings. He walked carefully into the dining room as the clock struck seven carrying various bowls on a tray. The smell was appetizing, the food looked good, and already she felt calmer. “Fetch a plate,” she commanded, almanbahis giriş “you will dine with me!” Returning to the kitchen he found a plate and cutlery, but in his haste to return he tripped and fell; the plate broke and the knife and fork slid across the floor, stopped by his mistress’s foot. “Idiot!” she snapped. “Animal!” Trembling with shock and apologising he made to rise but she stopped him with a glance. “The place for animals is on the floor, not at the table. And animals don’t wear clothes. Remove them!” Whilst still lying on the ground he struggled to remove his shirt and trousers: she rose and went across the room to her private drawer and brought back some restraints and a small flexible cane. “On your knees animal.” Twice she struck his buttocks with some force and then without any thought of inflicting pain or not she swiftly fastened his wrists tightly together behind his back, his ankles likewise and then his wrists to his ankles. A collar went round his neck, a lead attached and a sharp tug had him face down on the floor by her feet. She paused in thought for a moment and then without warning lashed him twice more across the back. She smiled, sat down and served herself some food. For a while she savoured the warm, well prepared food and a feeling of comfort began to sweep back through her. Glancing at her servant she pulled his lead up so his face was level with her lap. She held out a small piece of meat and with the beginnings of a smile made him beg for it; satisfied she placed it in his mouth and he gratefully swallowed it. Perhaps all would be well he thought; the food, which he now knew was good, was having a calming effect on her.

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