Next would come the ironing, all to be done in silence of course. As the clock ticked round towards nine o'clock, I would start to prepare the Mistres...' breakfast - orange juice, cornflakes (cold milk and no sugar), kippers with a knob of butter, wholemeal toast, strawberry jam and Earl Grey tea. After picking up the tray, I would creep down the hallway, collecting the newspaper from the carpet by the front door as I went, before quietly climbing the stairs and knocking respectfully on Her. Her eyes are glassy from the tincture she was given, something to help ease her into her new life in service of the god. Under the plain linen robe she was wrapped in her breasts rose and fell with her breath anxiously, her nipples rubbing themselves to hardness and aching on the texture of the fabric constraining them.She feels as though she has waited hours, as though her fatigue might steal her consciousness, when the Priest enters. His voice is soothing, entrancing, he stills her anxieties. More

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