As I walked away, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction at the helplessness of my slave, I couldn't help but let out a low chuckle. He'd been expecting something so much less degrading, but he should have known better than to underestimate me. I was Mistress Ludovica Luxury, and I did whatever the hell I wanted.
Back in my room, I took a long, hot shower to wash away the stench of his ass and pussy. I couldn't help but feel a small thrill thinking about how he must have smelled right then, lying there on the floor, his body covered in my filth. I toweled off slowly, savoring the moment before getting dressed again.
I was feeling a little peckish, so I had my personal chef prepare a small snack for me – fresh caviar served on toast points dripping with butter. It was the perfect accompaniment to my champagne, and as I sat on my balcony overlooking the city, I couldn't help but feel just a bit smug.
Suddenly, there was a knock at my door. I frowned, wondering who could be distracting me from my indulgence. When I opened it, my eyes widened in surprise. "What is it?" I demanded, growing impatient.
My slave stood there, head bowed, looking just as miserable as he had when I'd sent him away earlier. "Mistress," he began, his voice trembling, "I have to tell you something."
I narrowed my eyes, instantly on guard. "Spit it out," I snapped.
"It's about the caviar, Mistress," he said, his words tumbling out. "It's not good. It's old and stale. It's not what you deserve."
I stared at him, utterly speechless. This was supposed to be a special treat for me, some comfort food after my little display of dominance. But he'd ruined it. He'd actually tried to protect me from something that wasn't up to my standards.
Slowly, a smile spread across my face. "Well then," I said, clapping my hands slowly. "I guess it's time for Plan B."
I turned on my heel and strutted back into my room, feeling empowered. I sat down on the edge of my bed, regarding my slave with newfound interest. He really didn't know what he'd started.
