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MidReal Story
Servant of My Heart
Scenario:Mora an argentinan girl desides to become a servant in every way she gets "bought by a young man from Czech republic named Andrew and she falls in love with him so she is even more determent to serve in every way possible
Andrew has red hair and he is an CEO
Mora has long brown hair and is submisive
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Mora
submissive servant,in love with Andrew,long brown hair,obedient and caring.
Andrew
CEO and Mora's employer,red hair,authoritative yet kindhearted.
Elena
Andrew's business partner and friend to Mora,short blonde hair,pragmatic and supportive.
I have just been bought.
The contract I signed a month ago is now in effect.
I am a servant and I belong to him until the contract expires.
In six years.
Six years of serving my master, doing everything he asks, whenever he asks it.
Living with him, being at his disposal 24/7.
And when the contract expires I will be free and I will get a nice sum of money.
Enough to never have to work again if I don't want to.
I am excited.
This is what I wanted.
This is what I chose.
So why am I so damn nervous?
My master is standing in front of me, looking at me with a red glow around him because of his red hair.
He is looking at me like he's sizing me up.
And he is.
He's going to own me for the next six years so he wants to know what he's getting himself into.
"Remove your clothes," he orders.
His voice is deep and strong like a CEO should have.
I hesitate for a moment, then start to unbutton my blouse, my fingers trembling slightly.
The soft rustle of the fabric as I slip each button free seems amplified in the silence of the room.
Andrew watches intently, his eyes following each movement as I slip off my shirt and then my skirt, folding them neatly on a nearby chair.
The cool air caresses my skin, and I shiver, feeling a flutter in my chest.
I pause, glancing up at him, searching for some sign of approval or disapproval.
His expression remains unreadable, but I sense a flicker of approval, a slight relaxation of his shoulders.
Emboldened, I continue, removing my undergarments with deliberate slowness, maintaining eye contact.
The only sound is the soft whisper of fabric against skin as I shed each layer.
As I stand fully exposed, Andrew steps forward, his hand reaching out to touch my shoulder.
His fingers brush against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.
"Ah," he says, his voice low and husky, "you're even more beautiful than I imagined."
His hand lingers on my shoulder, a gentle pressure that confirms his ownership.
I feel a surge of excitement mixed with trepidation as I realize the true extent of our arrangement.
"You're mine now," he says, his eyes burning with intensity.
I nod, my heart racing in anticipation of what's to come.
Suddenly, he spins me around, his hands grasping my waist as he pulls me close.
The door closes behind us, sealing my fate with a finality that echoes in the silence.
I followed Andrew through the grand estate, my eyes drinking in the opulent decorations and lavish furnishings. The air was thick with the scent of polished wood and fresh flowers, a stark contrast to the humble surroundings I was accustomed to.
As we entered the spacious room, I couldn't help but gasp at the breathtaking view of the city skyline. The large window seemed to stretch on forever, casting a warm glow over the room. Andrew's gesture drew my attention to a sleek, modern desk, where a leather-bound planner lay waiting.
"Here, Mora, this is where you'll manage my schedule," he explained, his voice calm and authoritative. "You'll be responsible for preparing my breakfast, managing my appointments, and maintaining my wardrobe."
I nodded intently, absorbing every detail as he outlined my daily tasks. His eyes softened when he mentioned my role in his life, and I felt a mix of duty and affection wash over me.
He handed me the planner, instructing me to start organizing. I opened it, the crisp pages rustling as I began writing. The act of putting pen to paper marked the start of my new life as Andrew's servant.
As I worked, Andrew paced around the room, his red hair a vibrant splash against the muted tones of the decor. His footsteps were light, almost silent, but I sensed his presence acutely. Every so often, he'd stop behind me, his hands resting on the back of my chair as he surveyed my work.
The sound of his breathing was steady and calm, a gentle accompaniment to the scratching of my pen on paper. I felt his gaze on me, but I didn't dare look up, focusing instead on the task at hand.
Suddenly, Andrew's hands closed around my shoulders, his fingers digging gently into my skin. "Very good, Mora," he whispered, his breath tickling my ear. "You're a quick learner."
I smiled, a flutter in my chest as I sensed his approval. But before I could respond, he spun me around in my chair, his eyes flashing with an intensity that left me breathless.
"Let's take a break," he said, his voice low and husky. "I have something special in mind for you."
"What is it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He leaned in closer, his lips curving into a mysterious smile. "There's more to this arrangement than just servitude, Mora."
I blinked, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words.
I followed Andrew through the estate, my curiosity piqued by his mysterious smile. The air was thick with the scent of old books and dust as we navigated the winding corridors. We stopped before an unmarked door, its surface worn and faded. Andrew produced a small key from his pocket and unlocked it, the sound of the mechanism clicking open echoing through the hallway.
As the door creaked open, a warm, golden light spilled out, illuminating the dark wood paneling. I stepped inside, my eyes adjusting to the dimly lit room. Shelves upon shelves of ancient tomes and artifacts lined the walls, casting long shadows across the floor. The air was heavy with the musty scent of old parchment and forgotten knowledge.
Andrew gestured to a large, ornate pedestal in the center of the room, where a single, leather-bound book lay open. The pages were yellowed and worn, adorned with intricate illustrations and symbols that seemed to dance across the paper. I felt a shiver run down my spine as I approached the pedestal, my heart pounding in anticipation.
"This is where our arrangement truly begins," Andrew said, his voice low and husky. He stepped beside me, his eyes fixed intently on mine. "This ancient tome holds the secrets of our contract, Mora. It's where you'll learn the true extent of your duties... and privileges."
I reached out a trembling hand, my fingers brushing against the cool leather binding. The pages rustled softly as I turned them, revealing intricate details about servitude contracts and personal histories. Andrew's hand closed around mine, guiding me to a specific page.
"Read," he whispered, his breath tickling my ear.
I began to read, my eyes scanning the page as the words blurred together in a jumbled mess. Suddenly, a phrase leapt out at me, making my heart skip a beat: "The servant shall be bound to their master, body and soul..."
Andrew's grip on my hand tightened, his eyes burning with an intensity that left me breathless. I felt a surge of excitement mixed with trepidation as I realized the true extent of our arrangement.
"Mora," Andrew said softly, his voice a blend of authority and something else I couldn't quite place, "do you understand what this means for us?"
I swallowed hard, my eyes meeting his as I nodded slowly. "Yes, Andrew, but why me? Why did you choose me for this?"
I sit at the desk in the dimly lit room, the leather-bound book open before me.
The flickering candles cast eerie shadows on the walls as I trace the words with my finger, absorbing the details of my contract.
Andrew stands nearby, watching me intently, his red hair a vibrant splash against the muted tones of the decor.
I ask him about the phrase "body and soul," seeking clarity on my role, my voice barely above a whisper.
He explains that it signifies a deep commitment, beyond mere servitude, his words dripping with an air of authority.
I nod, understanding but still curious, my eyes locked on his as I turn the page.
As I read on, I notice a section on the estate's history, the words blurring together in a jumbled mess.
Andrew leans closer, pointing out key passages, his presence both comforting and commanding.
His breath whispers against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine as he highlights a particularly important clause.
I continue reading, my heart pounding in anticipation of what's to come.
Suddenly, Andrew's hand closes around mine, his fingers digging gently into my skin.
"Enough for now," he says, his voice low and husky. "We have more pressing matters to attend to."
I feel a surge of excitement mixed with trepidation as he pulls me to my feet, his eyes burning with an intensity that leaves me breathless.
"What do you mean?" I ask, my voice trembling slightly.
Andrew's smile is enigmatic as he leads me towards the door. "You'll see," he says, his grip on my hand tightening.
I stumble after him, my heart racing in anticipation of what's to come.
As we step into the corridor, the door creaks shut behind us, sealing our fate with a finality that echoes in the silence.
Andrew's pace quickens, his long strides forcing me to almost run to keep up.
We hurtle through the winding corridors, the air thick with anticipation.
Suddenly, we burst through a set of double doors, and I'm blinded by the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows.
I blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the sudden change in lighting.
As my vision clears, I see we're in some sort of courtyard, surrounded by towering trees and lush greenery.
Andrew stops abruptly, his chest heaving with exertion.
