I woke up the next morning feeling very refreshed. The room was lit by tiny slivers of light passing through the blinds from the morning sun. I looked over towards Sophia to see her still sound asleep. While we had fallen asleep cuddling together, we must have drifted apart during the night because now there was a few feet of space between us. I watched Sophia sleep for a few minutes, admiring the peacefulness of her slumber before quietly rolling out of bed. I was careful not to disturb her as I woke, letting her continue to sleep until she was ready to wake up.
I rummaged through my dressers, looking for clothes in Sophia's size and picked out three options for her to wear for breakfast. One was a set of loose fitting, blue silk pajamas, another was a gray oversized t-shirt with black lace panties, and the third was a tight, white tank top with red plaid boy shorts. I laid them out on top of the dresser and wrote a note for her, leaving it by the three neatly folded outfits.
It read: 'Good morning kitten. I've gone downstairs to the kitchen to have some coffee. I've laid out three clothing options for you to choose from this morning. Please wear one of these, or nothing at all when you come downstairs, whatever you think I want to see you in. There are slippers for you in the closet if you'd like wear them. When you're ready, I'll call for breakfast.'
With Sophia's clothes picked out, I grabbed a set of red silk pajamas that matched the blue set I chose for Sophia, and went into the closet to put them on. Once dressed, I slipped on a pair of fluffy slippers and made my way down the stairs to my kitchen. I picked out a particularly expensive bag of coffee beans I got from Jamaica and started brewing a pot. The strong aroma filled the room and I took a deep breath, savoring the scent as I started to perk up. When it was done, I poured myself a mug, and added a teaspoon of sugar and a light splash of hazelnut creamer.
I went into the foyer for a moment to grab my phone out of my purse, which I had discarded by the elevator immediately upon arrival last night, then stepped out into my grand living room, coffee mug in hand. I sat down on a well worn, beige microfiber recliner that was off in one corner of the room by the giant window. It looked out of place, hence its location in the corner, but it was one of the most comfortable pieces of furniture I owned and one I sat in every morning when I spent nights in my penthouse. I flipped the footrest up and leaned back, blowing on my steaming hot coffee while I check my messages and end-of-week stock reports on my phone, waiting for Sophia to wake up and come downstairs.
I hadn't gotten more than a few sips in when I heard soft footsteps coming down the stairs. I looked up from my stock reports, curious to see if Sophia had taken my deliberately misleading bait in what I wrote. Sure enough, Sophia emerged from the hallway in the nude, looking timid and totally unsure of herself. Her pale skin shone bright in the morning sun coming through the window. In truth, even though I suggested it, I didn't really want her to come to breakfast in the nude. I wanted her to be comfortable, but I thought it might be fun to mess with her head a bit, so I wrote it in a manner that could be taken in multiple ways.
"Oh kitten, I had a feeling you would fall for that," I chuckled with a mischievous smile.
"But, but this is what you wanted, right Miss Rose?" Sophia asked, suddenly feeling self conscious in front of the massive mirror and moving her arms to cover her chest.
"While I love the sight of you in your birthday suit, that's not what I really wanted," I explained. "I'll admit, I purposely misled you with that note, just a little practical joke to start the day off light. You might have thought based on last night that that I want you naked all the time. That rule only applies to my bedroom. I'm not some sex crazed dominatrix using you as a sex slave. And you might be my legal property right now but you're still a human being with feelings. So what I really want is to see you in is something you find comfortable."
I could see Sophia's cheeks burn red in annoyance as she scowled at me from across the room. She didn't appreciate the humor in my little experiment, but I didn't care. I got a good laugh out of it.
"I made you uncomfortable enough times last night, so you should start off the morning the right way, in comfort," I said in a more serious tone. "So go back upstairs and put on something comfortable, unless of course you are comfortable being nude while my chef cooks us breakfast."
Sophia turned and stomped off to my bedroom in frustration. A few minutes later she returned wearing the oversized shirt and panties along with the slippers I left for her. She glared at me with groggy eyes as she walked into the living room.
"There we go, good morning sweet Sophia," I said, smiling warmly at her. "Coffee is ready in the kitchen, so grab a mug and help yourself. Or if you're a tea person, I can brew some tea for you if you'd like."
"Good morning Miss Rose. Coffee is fine, thank you," Sophia mumbled in a dull tone as she walked through the living room to the kitchen.
"There's sugar on the counter and cream in..." I started to say as poured a cup for herself, but before I could finish, she took a sip without adding anything, drinking it black.
"Oh this is really good!" She said with wide eyes. "What kind is this?"
"It's Blue Mountain Estates from Jamaica," I answered. "And it better be good for $70 a pound. You can take a bag of beans home with you if you want."
"Really? That's so kind of you Miss Rose, but I couldn't. You're already giving me so much from the auction," Sophia said, taking another sip as she stood in the kitchen.
"Nonsense! I have plenty of it," I said happily. "Please, I insist, take some. It's a gift, and not the only one I intend to give you. Now come here and relax. I'll call the chef so she can get breakfast started for us."
"Thank you so much, Miss Rose," she said, smiling with the mug in her hands.
Sophia came over and sat down on a chair near my recliner. She kicked off her slippers, knelt on the soft cushion and tucked her feet up under her like she had before, stretching the loose shirt over her knees so her whole body was enveloped in the shirt. I texted my chef to say that we were ready for breakfast, and a few minutes later she arrived in the foyer.
"Good morning Miss Rose! How are you today?" She said brightly, waving to me as she went straight to the kitchen.
"Morning Melisa, I'm doing well, thank you," I replied with a smile.
Melisa was a young woman in her early twenties. She wore a white chef's uniform like one you'd see at a typical upscale restaurant with the sleeves rolled up just under her elbows, and had her chestnut brown hair tied up in a tight, professional bun.
"And who is our guest today?" Melisa asked over the clang of pots and pans as she set up to cook.
"This is Sophia. She'll be staying here with me for a few days," I explained. "Sophia, this is Melisa. She's been my personal chef for... what has it been now? 3 years?"
