<span style="font-weight: bold">Ambrosine</span><br/><br/>“Think of them as if they aren’t here,” Lady Catherine said, “no one will know you’ve been seen.”<br/><br/>Well… Lady Catherine would know, and I would know.<span style="font-style: italic">Her</span>eyes on<span style="font-style: italic">my</span>body,<span style="font-style: italic">our</span>little secret… I quivered, sponging the dirt and grime from the slave. Solistrae. Her muscles were… they<span style="font-style: italic">rippled</span>beneath her steely flesh, hard as the metal it resembled. I was<span style="font-style: italic">glad</span>Lady Catherine refused to remove the chains, despite the difficulties they created in<span style="font-style: italic">thoroughly</span>cleaning her. I washed down her body, water dripping from the slope of her breasts. They were full, for her lean frame, but perhaps that was normal for her race. I lifted them in turn, and wiped the awkward place beneath where sweat and grime could gather, the one which only existed for women as well-endowed as she and I. Her nipples were hard, engorged with the mark of Lady Catherine’s claws. I was gentle with them, but thorough. Even restrained, the power of Solistrae’s body intimidated me.<br/><br/>I worked down, and as a handmaiden<span style="font-style: italic">kneeling</span>felt very natural. Solistrae was tall, the soft place between her thighs almost level with my eyes. Of course, she was a slave, and had no right to refuse… but… “May I?” I whispered.<br/><br/>A crash from behind marked the fall of something expensive, and my head snapped round. “I’m sorry!” The serving-girl blurted, trembling, pleading in supplication. Catherine drew her bullwhip - apparently she disciplined her slaves<span style="font-style: italic">personally</span>- paused, as the servant burbled and blubbered, tears streaking her cheeks. .<br/><br/>“Don’t let it happen again,” Lady Catherine said, and lowered it. It’d been a long time since mother had taken me over her knee. It’d made me feel… strange. Squirmy.<br/><br/>I hadn’t misbehaved that way again, and my later troubles hadn’t been… maybe she’d been no more comfortable with it than I.<br/><br/>As her handmaiden, my discipline would now lie beneath Lady Catherine’s palm. Or her quirt... or whip… though of course I was not so lowly as a servant-girl, and even she had not actually been…