Standing outside the bedroom door, the woman called Dove tried to still the butterflies in her stomach. She looked down at the simple white linen robe she wore. The plain thin garment, open in front but folded over and tied closed by an equally plain cord, clung to her freshly washed body. The hard tips of her small breasts were clearly visible as they pressed against the soft fabric. The robe still surprised her a little, and she wondered what it said about her new Master.
Tonight was to be the first time she gave herself to him. She'd arrived late, already worried of disappointing her new Master. Instead of being met by him, she had instead been greeted by a young woman dressed in a simple white robe like the one she now wore. Instead of harsh words and a firm hand, or maybe a strap, she had been greeted gently and instructed to bathe, remove her jewelry and make-up and put on this plain garment. The young woman, Jasmine she had called herself, had told her that, from tonight, her new Master would call her Dove. Then Jasmine had led her to this door and told her to wait before disappearing inside.
So, she waited and wondered. This wasn't the first time the woman called Dove had submitted herself to another. Even Jasmine's presence hadn't overly shocked her. If the Master wanted a threesome, she knew she could play her part. Still, she felt nervous. It was one thing to correspond with someone, even to talk with them. Giving herself to him was something else, and waiting here in the hall outside his room wondering what was coming next was another thing entirely.
Suddenly, the door opened and Jasmine stepped out. She smiled slightly at the woman called Dove.
"He's waiting for you," Jasmine said softly. "Go in and do as he says."
"I've done this king of thing before," the woman called Dove said, a little more sharply than she'd intended. Jasmine only smiled.
The room beyond the door was dark, lit only by candles, which the woman called Dove found familiar even if the rest wasn't what she had expected. Most of the space was dominated by a large bed, which was unsurprising, but the rest was given over to a large desk and walls covered in bookshelves. The Master stood with his back to her, paging through a book that lay open on the desk. He was a solid looking man and wore a black robe that matched her white one, save that it was held shut by a heavy leather belt. The woman called Dove smiled inwardly at the possibilities the belt promised and the drawings of naked bodies she glimpsed on the pages of the book.
"You're late," the Master said softly, not looking up from his book.
"Yes, Master," the woman called Dove replied, knowing better than to offer excuses or ask forgiveness.
"Your first error." The Master looked up from the book with a slight smile. "We will address it in due time. Now, kneel there." He gestured casually at a spot on the floor in front of the bed.
The woman called Dove moved quickly to that spot and knelt, her hands in her lap and eyes demurely downcast. The Master turned to face her.
"That will hardly do," he said softly. "Don't slouch, child. Hands behind your back. Back straight. Head up. Eyes front."
The firmness of his voice quickened her pulse, and the woman called Dove quickly adjusted her position to obey. Her breasts, she found, were now pressing firmly against the thin white linen of her robe. Her nipples hardened, standing proudly forward, as the soft fabric rubbed against her skin.
The Master looked her up and down slowly, then stepped to the side, just out of her sight.
"Eyes front," he admonished as she unconsciously turned to follow his motion.
"A second error." He chuckled slightly. "Now, why are you here?"
"To serve you, Master," the woman called Dove answered promptly. She found her anxiety fading as the new relationship fell into familiar patterns.
"Do you understand what you ask?" the Master said gently.
"I will obey your commands," she answered, confident.
