She woke up in her bedroom. The sheets were spread across the deluxe-sized bed like a bomb had gone off, her long, platinum locks in a halo around her serene, sleeping face. Almost like a goddess, only a goddess has free will.
The sleeping beauty was most certainly a beauty. A girl many men would wish to marry, to dedicate their life to chasing. Her most catching feature was of course, the two large orbs attached to her chest. There was no denying that they were plastic, fake, but only few men would point that out around her. They were glorious all the same, like a monument to her beauty. Full, larger than watermelons bolted to her chest, looking like they were barely able to fit onto her tiny torso, that they were much too big for her. They were full, smooth spheres, no imperfection to them. The hard nipples pointed upwards ever so slightly, finishing off the look of perfection.
The servant's body was toned, athletic. She worked out every day, a task set to her by her Master. Squats, deadlifts. A regime set by him and followed by her. At first it was exhausting, but after almost a year after arriving at the Mansion, she knew it was worth it. Her abs were just about visible, on display with a small diamond piercing that glinted whenever she moved, catching everybody's eyes, everybody's attention.
Her face was painted in permanent make-up. Tattooed on, used advanced technology that she herself had created. Once upon a time she was a CEO, but only with her advanced knowledge, her broadened mind did she realise what gave her ultimate satisfaction and pleasure. Her only purpose was to serve her Master. In bed, she puckered her lips, her tongue running through their naturally-glossy shine. It felt good to always have make-up on, always be pretty. It's what Master wants, after all. And what Master wants, Master gets. Ultimate, complete obedience leads to enlightenment of the mind.
Sadly, as much as she wished to lay in bed and daydream about her perfect life, she knew that she had jobs to do. Many jobs, in fact. Living a life in the Mansion wasn't just working out and looking perfect. It was a life of servitude. In exchange for expensive dresses, swathes of jewellery, implants that add expanded curves and botox to perfect her face, she must pay the price to serve her Master in every conceivable way. And she couldn't think of a better job to have.
The babe rolled out of her bed, her hair bouncing slightly before resting into curls as she sat up from the massive white bed and onto her heel-clad feet. The only thing she was allowed to wear anymore are heels... And not just any old heels. Classy heels, heels that you would wear to an evening event. Carefully designed stilettos encrusted with various bands of diamonds and gems A symbol of luxury, of power, of class. It showed that she wasn't just a brain dead bimbo, no. She was a powerful woman who chose to be a slut to her Master. She chose this life.
When she first wore the heels, her feet felt like they were on fire, every day was a training session whenever she had to move. But within weeks her feet adjusted, and changed, and adapted and now she couldn't imagine walking without her feet arched in such a precarious position. Heels were natural for her now.
Normally she would shower first, but every morning she has to visit him. Worship him. Part of the daily routine, she must be fed before she does something, anything else. She takes slow, short mincing steps out of her room, her wide child-bearing hips swaying with the force of lust, her juicy rump shimmering with each click of the heel against floor. Maybe one day she could have children, she would be delighted to have such a gift from Master.
But only if he gives it, of course. She lives to serve her Master, and her Master is everything to her. Walking down the hallway, she knew the path to his bedroom perfectly, even though the white, luxurious building was like a maze filled with paintings of old art and sculptures of renaissance establishment. Of course, It was a wonderful sight to see such magnificent works. Some she owned, before she moved into the mansion with her Master. Though the ones she owned were particularly more expensive and located in a fancier wing of the grand building.
What life could be better than walking down hallways filled with ancient and established culture, expensive works of art and miracles of the human ingenuity. And to worship Master's cock, as well. A perfect life, an ideal one.
She was halfway there, now. Heading down one of the larger corridors, she saw two girls, maids. They looked unimpressive, fairly old ladies. Petty compared to her image of beauty. She saw how the pair looked at her, before quickly looking down.
The last maid to make a snide comment about the Servant was dutifully punished. At night you might hear her moaning in the stockades. When she's taken out, she might make a good Servant as well. Though that really didn't matter to her, it wasn't her place. Her place was to serve Master, and do as he commands.
The walk to Master's room was always fairly uneventful, if not exciting. It built tension for her daily feeding, made her nervous. Anxious. And every morning she knew it would be worth it. It felt good to be anxious, it felt good to be worried. Disappointing Master would be the last thing you would want to do, but pleasing him would only be the greatest.
And finally, she arrived. The door was already open, and she slowly pushed the door open, hearing it creak slightly. Her Master was leaning back in one of those big fancy leather chairs, a small glass of some alcoholic beverage in his hand. Naked, with his flaccid, juicy cock between his legs, cleanly shaven.
There were no words exchanged, and there didn't need to be. In the silence between them, she knew what she must do. And she relished in it. Taking longer, powerful strides towards her new target, she quickly and seamlessly slid to her knees between the legs of her Master, each of her delicate hands resting on his inner thighs.
Her Master was handsome, lean yet still muscular. And tall as well, or at least tall enough for the girl. And now it was time to worship his cock. Carefully, tactfully bowing her head, her lips met the head of the still flaccid cock, though as she took it in her mouth, she felt warm blood rush into it. It was growing erect in her mouth.
She waited, keeping the piece of meat warm in her mouth, her tongue running circles around the pole as it grew and grew in size. Within the minute it filled her mouth, with the skilled subservient slut barely able to hold the entire length in.