Warning

WARNING

This blog will contain...
...profanity, sexually explicit dialog andadult imagery.
If you are under 18 and/or offended by this...
THIS IS NOT THE BLOG YOU ARE LOOKING FOR

Thanks fiona, from "Sir Q and Me" for the warning message that just makes me melt. :)

Monday, January 6, 2014

The Queen, Iona, and Greta in the kitchen

I've continued in the prequel with the working title of "Greta as a new slave"- read part 1 here. Collared a year before Vala was brought to The Queen's mansion, Greta was Iona's first submissive.
In this snippet, Iona and Greta have gone to the kitchen because Simon announced "casual" breakfast. Iona is dressed, but Greta wears only her training uniform- a few pieces of leather. The Queen arrives- and starts teaching.


Greta looked around the kitchen; she'd never been in this room.

"Come along." Iona giggled. "This is a casual breakfast, 'member?"

"Yes, my Lady." Casual, but I'm still in my uniform. Why ever did The Queen agree to this with my little pot belly?

Iona traced one gentle finger along the bottom of the curve Greta had just been frowning at. "The Queen wouldn't have offered if he didn't find you attractive just the way you are."

"Yes, my Lady," Greta replied, concentrating on keeping her tone level, respectful. She startled to feel a large masculine body pressed against her.

"But Iona and I will help you if you want to change your body." The Queen leaned his head to kiss Greta's cheek. "Although once we have had breakfast, I want you both in my bed."

"Yes, my Queen," Iona and Greta replied together.

"We should move this way to figure out what we would like to eat."

Greta pressed her lips together. I'm already feeling blech but it'll go wrong if I say anything.

The Queen took Greta's hand in his, smiling at her. He pulled her along to the nearer fridge. "What would you like to eat?"

Greta's lips parted; she looked up at The Queen with her eyes wide with surprise. Like?

"Just because you are my submissive now does not mean I will not sometimes ask your opinion, dear."

"Yes, my Queen." Greta continued to gaze into The Queen's eyes, stunned.

The Queen dragged his index finger across Greta's lips. "I asked you a question."

Greta blinked. "I... um... maybe I should look in the fridge and see, my Queen?" I would have spanked one of my boys for such a reply.

"That is a good suggestion and nice manners, just a little stammer."

Greta smiled up at The Queen. "Thanks, my Queen."

"While you are in there, grab the container of pancake batter on the top shelf. Iona, I would like pancakes."

"Yes, my Queen. I think that's what I'd also like," Iona replied and opened the fridge door. "I don't think you would have stammered two days ago if he'd asked you what you like... to eat."

My Lady? Greta surprised herself with heat coming into her cheeks. "Yes, my Lady."

Iona grabbed a round plastic bowl with a lid before moving away, leaving Greta to consider the food before her.

The Queen moved against Greta again, his heat molding itself against her backside. "You have to be hungry."

"Yes, my Queen," Greta whimpered. I've seen him dom, but it didn't prepare me for this.

"Would it be easier for you if I ordered you to have pancakes with Iona and I?" He wrapped his arm around her waist.

Greta tilted her head so she could look at The Queen's face. "I'm not sure, my Queen." She licked her lips. "This should be 'just breakfast,' but I'm so nervous, my Queen."

"Sweet." The Queen pressed a soft kiss against her lips. "Are you expecting to do something that will get you in trouble?"

"I don't know, my Queen." Greta's lips trembled. What are his rules again?

"Have you ever known me to punish without first teaching?" The Queen turned Greta around into his embrace, letting the door close behind her.

"No, my Queen." Greta shuddered.

"But it is still very new being on this end of the whip, so to say."

"So to say, my Queen." That was too dumb.

"No, my beauty. Rest your insecurities in my hand."

"Yes, my Queen." Greta relaxed against The Queen.

"Let us go see what Iona is up to." The Queen released Greta only to take her by one hand. They joined Iona by the counter. "What sort of pancakes are those, love?"

"They smell like my Lord Simon put cinnamon in them, my Queen."

Hierarchy. Even Iona... my Lady... has slaves above her. Greta clung to The Queen's reassuring hand, waiting on their pleasure, an order. I wanted this. I wanted to feel this.

"How are you with cooking?" The Queen chuckled when Greta looked to his face with a startled expression.

"You know, especially until Simon gets the custom kitchen he has been begging for, these casual breakfasts will continue to be common."

"Yes, my Queen. I think I do well enough, although my Lord Simon's cooking would be my choice over my own, if I was given a choice, my Queen."

The Queen threw back his head as his chuckles became loud guffaws. "Oh sweetie, I am sure you are fine. You will cook Iona and I lunch today."

"Yes, my Queen." Just when I was starting to feel less anxious, my Queen. Thank goodness that you're not a mind reader like that dom in the Cherise Sinclair books. Greta bit her lip at forgetting his title in her thoughts. She gasped. "I just forgot your title in my thought, my Queen."

"It was just a thought." The Queen kissed Greta's forehead. "I do not wish to punish just for what happens in your pretty head."

"Thanks, my Queen." Greta glanced at Iona. "Can I help you, my Lady?"

Iona patted Greta's hand held in The Queen's. "Take this plate of pancakes and syrup to the table so The Queen can start."

"Yes, my Lady." Greta picked up the plate, noticed Iona had already put a fork on it, and grabbed the syrup bottle. I can manage this simple serve. But his bed once we've eaten. She shuddered happily.

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