Thread: Heir to the plantation. (Wreckles & AmyBeth)

It was high time for supper when Milien and Lacroix had ended their conversation. Milien was confident his plan for tomorrow would provide with plenty of opportunity to show this Mellina girl her place in the world. It was in the moments of silence where he sat in the study, gazing at the overfilling bookshelves that made up for the bulky of the interiors that Milien realized he needed a personal servant. To fetch him things, to carry out missives - the usual business. Fortune smiled upon him when he remembered that his mother had gossiped about the indignant slavegirl Mellina who ought to be more like her younger sister - docile and obedient. Rubbing his chin upwards, now that is worth looking into the young heir thought. Making his way to the dining hall Milien found both his mother and father already seated and dining. Rose, the head maid of the manor quickly saw to it that the young master got a plate and some wine, neither food nor wine was in short supply on the Duflot family. Milien wanted to test if he could manipulate still his parents, a harmless practice he told himself. I've come to realize that in order to efficiently run the plantation I need a personal servant to handle all the irrelevant things. You know what I speak of father. His father seemed occupied with sniffing his wine and when there was a moment of silence he looked as if someone had roused him from his sleep. What? Oh yes of course you need a servant hrm, who is suitable to this task Rose? The head maid curtsied without looking them in the eyes There is a girl who would fit your description young Master. Her name is Airia. Milien nodded, that was her name. Send her to my quarters after dinner. Milien had left dinner unceremoniously, it was obvious that now that the son was home again, his father had chosen to delegate most of the responsibilities immediately upon his shoulders. Though the young heir did not mind, he found himself enjoying himself as he walked the stone hallways that lead to his chamber. A somewhat less ostentatious room than the study, but after all a bedchamber was only so much no? Finding a young slavegirl patiently waiting at his door, Milien immediately saw the resemblance, and noted that she was the pretty girl who had given him the tray earlier today. You must be Airia. his voice firm and deep. The young heir towered over the slavegirl, she seemed so lithe he could wield her like a longsword. Folding his arms across his chest, Have you been informed of what is expected of you? Milien could feel a sliver of disdain from her sister spilling over. He was not going to make this girls life any easier. Tomorrow at exactly seven o clock you will bring me a tray of breakfast, a minute later and I will have you whipped for disobedience. Do I make myself clear? The slave stood with her back against the stone wall, Milien was aware of how predatory he felt as he leaned in - no easy task considering their difference in height. Serving me is an honor for the likes of you. I know you will not fail me. Straightening his back again Milien continued, You will follow me tomorrow, always be ready to see to my every need. Milien himself was unsure as to why he had underlined the words 'every need' Waving his hand like one would to an annoying fly the heir dismissed the girl before he retired for the night. It had been a while since Milien had slept so well. Perhaps it was the tranquil chirping of the birds outside his window, perhaps the comfortable and rich silk bed sheets. Or simply because he was home again. He felt well rested as the light knocking of his door roused him from his sleep. Enter. He commanded as he sat up, and in came the slavegirl Airia. Place it there on the table. Milien said and pointed towards the writing desk. It was only then Milien became aware of the stiffness of his cock. Morning glory. He took on a brazen tone, Come here. And pointed strictly to a spot on the floor besides the bed. Throwing off the sheets to reveal his throbbing erection as he situated himself on the edge. Kneel. There was no room for argument in his voice. Milien demanded, far from asking. Open your mouth. It's time for you to make yourself useful.