Sam's window had no curtain and at seven am, he tried his best to ignore the morning light, but he couldn't ignore the ringing that sounded above his head. "Brrring, Brrrrrring." Sam groaned and rolled over. He didn't have a cell phone; his carrier wouldn't operate here in Italy. But that sound was definitely a phone. "Brrrrrring!" it sounded again and this time he caught sight of the red blinking light on the phone on the wall. He got up on his knees and lifted the receiver. "Hello?" He rubbed his eyes.
"Week days at seven thirty, you will wake up and meet me in my room."
"Oh, Mistress Vanessa, it's you. Good morning." He said and then he shook his head. Of course it was her. This phone was probably an intercom. Every call on this phone would be her.
"Yes, Good morning Samuel. Did you understand me?" she asked sounding a little annoyed.
Sam winced. "Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Oh, Yes Mistress Vanessa. I understand."
"Good."
"Mistress Vanessa?"
"Yes?"
"What should I wear?"
"House suit, Samuel. Always house suit unless I say otherwise."
"Yes, Mistress Vanessa."
She hung up the phone and Sam again listened for a dial tone, but there was none. He sat at the edge of the bed for a few seconds stretching his body from its sleepy state. He quickly dressed in one of the house suits and he put the shoes on also. He adjusted the tie as he made the short walk from his room to hers. He was a bit nervous about going to her room but as he reached the door, he realized that there was no lock or knob. The door could be pushed open. He guessed that the door to her actual bedroom had a lock, though. He knocked on the door and he heard Mistress Vanessa tell him to come in.
The recliner in her sitting room faced the fireplace on the right wall, so when he walked in, he saw her from the side. She did not look up. "Come, sit. We have a lot to talk about."
He came forward and hesitated. There was only one chair, then he saw the pillow that sat on the floor in front of where she sat. It looked similar to the pillows that were in the Host room. Mistress Vanessa gestured toward it. "Sit." She said again. Sam sat down and was surprised. The satin pillow was comfortable for its rather small size. And the fur area rug underneath it looked comfortable enough to sleep on.
Mistress Vanessa handed him a plate of eggs, boiled potatoes, and bacon. He hadn't noticed it before. She had one too and she was already halfway done with hers. "Thank you." He said as he took the plate.
"You are welcome." She said back. Sam thought that maybe he had detected a note of surprise in her voice. Was she surprised that he thanked her?
If she was, she did not say so. Sam ate as she began to talk. "This is how my mornings will start. Can you prepare this breakfast?"
Sam nodded. "I can, Mistress."
"Good. That will be your responsibility from now on." She said. Sam had to look up at her as she spoke to him. She had a tablet and a stylist in her hands. Most of the time, she was scrolling through a list on the tablet, but every once in awhile, she would look down at him. She seemed so tall from where he sat; she seemed so powerful. His mind wandered back to yesterday when he had been naked in front of her. She seemed very powerful then too. Sam felt an unexpected stirring in his pants when he thought of how she commanded him to disrobe. He snatched his thoughts away from yesterday's events and focused on what she was saying instead. He couldn't mess this up.
He gathered that Mistress Vanessa had a maid that came once a week to clean, had a driver, a business assistant, and that she liked to cook for herself mostly. He also suspected that she did not plan on firing any of her employees. He wondered what she could possibly want him for, then. Unlike the others, he was the only one that lived in her house, and was the only one that would accompany her almost everywhere she went. Sam was strong, but he didn't think that she wanted him for protection. She would have hired a bodyguard. It seemed to him that he had been hired to keep her company, but the Mistress made it clear that he was to obey her at all times.
He took the dishes to the kitchen and brought her a cup of coffee and she began to tell him about her schedule. "I run errands in the mornings." She said. "My afternoons will be reserved for meetings and designs. Sometimes in my city office, and sometimes in my home office. Wherever I am, you will be too." She turned her attention back to the tablet. "I do not want you to be here alone." She said but it didn't sound like it should have. It sounded as if she meant to say that she did not want to be alone. But Sam ignored it.
She finished by setting her coffee mug on the small side table and standing. "Take that to the kitchen and then you can help me dress." She said, and then she was gone.
Sam didn't think that he heard her quite right until he returned and went into her bedroom. Before she had been wearing a plush dark green robe, but now all she wore was the matching thin nightgown that barely reached the middle of her thigh. He hesitated and she gestured to the closet. "All of my unders are on the right." She said. "Choose a set." She was busy with the tablet again. Sam went into the large closet and looked to the right. There was a checker style shelf with a set of bras and panties in each small box. Sam's eyes widened. There had to be at least twenty pair. He looked back over at her to make sure that she wasn't testing him, and then he chose a light purple lace set. He tried not to think of the soft feel of the lingerie, but by the time he reached her bed, his breathing had quickened. He handed the set to her and she stood and began to slip her arms from her gown. "Now a dress." She said and Sam turned quickly back to the closet. He saw that she had a ton of dresses of all different styles. He wondered if she had designed any of those herself, but at the moment, he did not quite trust his voice to ask.
He purposely took a few extra minutes to make the decision, before he picked up a dark blue knee length dress. He thought it looked professional enough. He brought her the dress, with his eyes half closed. As soon as she took the dress, he took the hanger back to the closet. He didn't know what to do now. He turned to see that she had the dress on already. She was standing facing away from him. He could see the open zipper of the dress and he took the hint.
Closing the distance between them was the longest four seconds of his life. He could see the lace of the purple bra across her back and he hoped that his breathing wasn't as loud as he thought it was. He zipped the dress slowly. "What should I do now, Mistress?"
She turned to face him. She was frowning. "I am not sure how to say it in English." She bit her lower lip. "It is for my legs. To the left."
Sam went to the left side of the closet and saw a slimmer shelf stocked with hosiery. It all seemed to be organized by occasion. The fancier hosiery was toward the bottom. He selected a pair off of the top shelf and brought it to her. "Yes." She said. "What are they called?"
Sam considered the item in his hands. They resembled thin sheer pants; they would go all the way up to her navel. "They're, um, they're called pantyhose, I think." He said. 'Pantyhose' is what he would have called any of those items, but he was fairly certain that it was the right term for this particular pair.
He watched as she put them on and smoothed the dress down over them. She crossed her legs. "Shoes." She said.
He brought her a pair that he thought would be comfortable to walk in. She did not even glance at them. "Higher." She said. He went back and brought her a bigger pair of heels. He knelt and put them on her feet slowly; buckling them with great difficulty.
She surveyed herself in the tall mirror for a few minutes before she went into the bathroom to do her makeup.
In the closet near the front door, there was a coat for her and a coat for him. He slipped her coat onto her shoulders before he put his on. The drivers name was Carlos. Mistress Vanessa spoke to the driver in Italian. She spoke to everyone in Italian. After only about an hour of being in town, Sam decided to stop trying to figure out what she was saying. He held every door for her, and he followed her wherever she went. It didn't seem to him like he was doing all that much. He opened the door and helped her out of the car when they got to her office. The building was four stories high with a beautiful marble finish and glass doors. He opened the door for her and followed her inside. The reception desk was crescent shaped. It made a half circle in the middle of the floor in front of a chair and two women arguing behind it.
