Rose took a deep breath, knelt down, and waited.
It was an important part of her daily routine: Once the house was cleaned and dinner was prepared, Rose was to clear her mind and focus on her programming until Mistress returned home. Perched on her little mat in the corner of the kitchen remaining absolutely still, Rose stared at her reflection in the mirror placed before her--a way to remind herself of her place and purpose, Mistress had once explained. A petite brunette girl stared back, one dressed in a simple black and white maid's uniform devoid of excessive frills or lace. She wore minimal makeup and no jewelry save for a thin black choker around her neck, a gift from Mistress that was Rose's most prized possession. Her glassy, blank eyes offered no indication of what was going through the mind behind them:
A properly behaved girl exists to please her Mistress.
A properly behaved girl performs her duties without complaint.
A properly behaved girl speaks as little as possible and only when necessary.
A properly behaved girl maintains her poise, grace, manners, and composure at all times.
Depending on how quickly she completed the day's tasks, Rose could stay kneeling and repeating her mantras for anywhere from minutes to hours. The boredom and uncertainty used to bother her more, back before Mistress' conditioning had fully taken effect. Now, though, Rose's permanent state of near-trance made it easy to lose herself in the repetition and let her perception of time fade into the background. Mistress wanted her here, and that was enough. Even as her knees and shoulders began to ache from remaining perfectly postured for so long, Rose understood the dull pain was part of her submission and did not move. Her mantras were far more important.
A properly behaved girl exists to please her Mistress.
A properly behaved girl performs her duties without complaint.
A properly behaved girl speaks as little as possible and only when necessary.
A properly behaved girl maintains her poise, grace, manners, and composure at all times.
And when Rose heard the front door finally open and her stomach fluttered with excitement, she knew it was all worth it. Mistress was home. As deep under as she was, Rose still had to actively prevent herself from smiling as she heard her Mistress' footsteps coming closer. Outbursts of love and joy were outbursts nonetheless and therefore improper. Besides, Mistress already knew how much Rose loved her--She Herself had greatly amplified Rose's existing adoration over many hypnotic sessions.
But while Rose outwardly remained stoic, internally she still desperately hoped for a show of affection from Mistress. Any little touch or kind word from Her could be enough to brighten the maid's mood for days, to the point where she practically measured her weeks in terms of when she received affection. Mistress' footsteps clicked across the hardwood floor of the kitchen until they were right behind Rose, and then they stopped. The maid's lips opened slightly to release a tiny gasp of anticipation.
"Rose."
The maid broke eye contact with her reflection to look down at the floor demurely. She didn't respond, as
properly behaved girls spoke as little as possible and only when necessary
.
Mistress paused for a moment, no doubt surveying Rose's work, then snapped Her fingers. "Come."
Standing up and pivoting in one fluid motion, Rose followed dutifully. Mistress looked lovely as ever, Her straight black hair in a French braid and Her warm, honey skin contrasting beautifully with Her dark blue blouse and pencil skirt. Rose's gaze lingered on Her light brown almond eyes and deep red lips in the brief moments when She turned Her head. But despite her fixation, the maid still remained poised and proper, her back straight and her footsteps steady as she followed Mistress into the living room.
Mistress sat down in Her large black leather recliner and patted Her lap. "Sit."
Rose's eyes went wide with excitement, and she briskly walked over to slide onto Mistress' lap. Another smile and beckoning motion from Her signaled Rose was allowed to snuggle in close, so she wrapped her arms around Mistress' torso and rested her head on Her shoulder.
This was a special occasion. Physical comfort had been far more common when Rose had first begun; she'd needed it much more back when she was still struggling to get used to her conditioning and submission. But as the maid had grown more accustomed to both, moments of dedicated affection had gone from necessary care to a rare reward.
"Do you know how nice it feels," Mistress began, her voice a low purr as she ran her fingers across Rose's scalp. The maid shivered in delight at each and every touch. "To come home knowing everything will be taken care of? Knowing I can rely on my wonderfully behaved girl?"
Rose nearly squealed and burst with pride at the compliments, but managed to tone her response down to a little bit of squirming and an adoring glance up at her Mistress. The intense pleasure she felt wasn't physical--Mistress kept a
very
tight leash on that--but rather emotional, like rushing euphoria and a deep sense of contentment mixed together. Rose's conditioning made her
extremely
emotionally sensitive when it came to comments on her service and submission. And who wouldn't feel delighted upon hearing they were fulfilling the very purpose of their existence?
Mistress offered several more kisses and squeezes as She described her day to Rose in quiet tones, the maid blushing and swooning and trying to maintain her composure all the while. The maid distantly realized there was probably
some
reason behind the sudden intense affection, but she was so enraptured that Mistress' next words caught her entirely off guard.
"I'm getting a new submissive."
Rose tensed. Had she done something wrong? Was she not good enough?
As if sensing those concerns, Mistress began stroking Rose's hair again and cooing softly. "Shh, shh, my girl. I'm not replacing you; you're doing a wonderful job as is." She tapped her maid on the nose. "Such a good job, in fact, that my new submissive isn't even going to be a maid. The two of you will have entirely different roles and will both be valued equally."
The reassurance didn't do much to soothe Rose's nerves, but she couldn't really articulate how she felt while Mistress was touching her--each stroke of Her fingers derailed those trains of thought before they could fully form. Having no real idea of what else to say, Rose stuck to her default.
"Yes, Mistress."
Mistress knew what She was doing. Maybe it would be nice having someone else in the house; Rose did tend to get a little lonely when Mistress was gone for long stretches. Maybe the two submissives could be friends. The thought didn't totally calm Rose down, but it helped.
"I know you can find change distressing, little maid," Mistress whispered in her ear, Her hand rubbing Rose's back. "So let's make sure you're nice and calm, hmm? Eyes on me."
Mistress raised her index finger in front of Rose's face, and the maid lifted her head eagerly to look at it. This was one of their common inductions, a quick and easy shortcut to put Rose deep under.
"Good. Now watch as it goes left to right, right to left..."
Rose poured every ounce of focus she had into the simple task of tracking the finger's movements, her head swiveling as it moved back and forth.
"Feel it pulling you from side to side, up and down..." Mistress also started moving her finger closer and further away from Rose's face, the girl's eyes crossing slightly as she attempted to watch it at all times. Already she felt the tingly waves of trance pouring over her, spreading from the top of her head down to the tips of her toes.
"...up and down, down, down, until finally you..." Mistress moved her finger right up to Rose's face, then tapped her on the forehead. "
Drop
."
The maid went limp, her eyes half lidded and her mouth slack. With the world far away and her mind empty, Rose was free to bask in the pleasure of being absolutely controlled and absolutely safe. She was so warm, so comfortable, so content and in love...
***
The morning she was to meet her new fellow submissive, Rose was practically bursting with nervous excitement. Mistress had told her little about the woman, and Rose's social skills were particularly rusty after spending so long in service. And so it was all she could do to keep her hands from wringing her apron as she stood quietly in the back of the entrance hall.
"She's here," Mistress stated calmly as She strode into the room. "Go ahead."
Rose nodded, then took a deep breath and went to open the front door.
And then all of her conflicted feelings were swept away by a torrent of confusion.
"Sup?"
In the years since Rose had entered into service, Mistress had drilled the importance of proper manner, dress, and poise into every part of her being over and over. Her mental and physical habits were
