Preparing for Guests on the Upper Floor

Rossi stands chained to the stove, metal biting her wrists while she stirs and plates. Every time she leans forward her tits press against the stainless edge and bounce back heavy. Shevon kneels at the long table, back arched, learning how to set each fork just so, her trainer’s crop flicking her ass whenever she hesitates. Sweat runs between her breasts, tracing the chain that links her collar to the table leg. The clock is running. Dishes stack. Silverware clicks. The moment the last tray leaves the kitchen, the House Master nods and the rules lift. Slaves break formation, bodies colliding in the sudden freedom, mouths finding mouths, fingers sliding into wet heat while the dinner plates still steam on the sideboard.