Mistress Bonnie was not a woman of many words—but when she spoke, her voice curled like smoke around the mind, lingering and demanding attention. She moved with a quiet, deliberate grace that sent her slave, Oz, into stillness each time she entered a room. His training was ongoing, and though he had come far since she owned him, he still had much to learn.
Tonight was one of those nights.
She summoned him with a single chime of the small bell on her bedside table. No name, no command—just the soft sound that meant: Come.
Oz entered quietly, head bowed, heart thudding in reverence. He knelt before her, as he’d been taught, eyes lowered to the floor.
“Elbows off your knees,” she said calmly, reclining in her velvet armchair, long legs crossed. “Back straight. Good posture is a sign of pride in your submission. We have been over this”
He corrected himself instantly, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise in his cheeks. “Yes, Mistress,” he whispered.
She circled him, the click of her heels sharp on the wooden floor. One gloved hand traced his shoulder, down his spine, slow and assessing. “Tell me what you’ve learned this week.”
He swallowed. “To anticipate your needs before you speak them. To watch, to listen. I… I’m learning to feel your moods, Mistress.”
She smiled—a rare, subtle curve of her lips he’d come to crave more than touch. “Yes. You’re beginning to feel me. That’s the first step to true service.”
Her fingers gripped his chin, tilting his face upward. He met her gaze—just for a second before lowering his eyes again.
“Still shy,” she murmured. “That’s endearing… for now.”
She moved to sit before him. “Tonight, I want you to show me what you’ve learned. No instructions. No words from me. Only observation. Intuition. Think. Serve.”
A test. He inhaled slowly, steadying his nerves.
He began by removing her heels gently, kissing the arch of each foot in gratitude. She gave no sign of approval—but also no correction. Encouraged, he moved to massage her calves, fingers firm but reverent, drawing a soft exhale from her lips. His heart skipped.
He fetched her favorite wine without being told—she always had it after a long day. He held the glass with both hands, head bowed, presenting it like an offering.
This time, she took the glass and sipped. No words, but the slightest nod. Success.
She set it aside, uncrossed her legs, and leaned back. Her gaze locked on him again, expectant. Testing.
Oz leaned in, trailing slow kisses up her thigh, worshipful but not presumptuous. He didn’t aim to arouse—he aimed to honor. She could stop him at any moment. She didn’t.
When she finally placed her hand on his head, fingers threading through his hair possessively, he trembled.
“Well done,” she said softly, pulling him closer. “You’re beginning to understand. Service isn’t obedience alone—it’s awareness. Anticipation. Worship without words.”
He felt a warmth inside him bloom like pride—but it wasn’t ego. It was joy in pleasing her.
“I am yours, Mistress,” he whispered.
“You are,” she said, pulling him tighter against her. “And you’re learning to deserve that privilege.”
So, she said, “a submissive… and mine.”
It’s the second time i have read this story. It was interesting to read ,but more important it was a great learning experience. Definitely worth the time it took to read. Thanks Ms. Bonnie !
You are most welcome Aero glad you enjoyed it ♥. I have a load more I really should get around to posting