The first day on the job was thankfully easy to learn for Agatha. Sitting at the front desk facing a massive entry lobby surrounded with fine art and furniture, she couldn't help but recognise that she was in a position of some prestige. She tried not to let it go to her head.

Things were quiet for the most part, though. Occasionally one of the other servants would pass through and Agatha would give a friendly wave, sometimes returned, as they each went about their separate duties.

She had still not been provided her uniform, so she was wearing as professional clothes as she could pick out from her own wardrobe while still adhering to the Mistress’ demanding dress code. She wore black suede wedge heels, with black tights and a sleeveless black dress with a high neckline. Her hair was tucked up into a tight bun held back with a black ribbon as per Mistress' instruction, and she wore a basic face of concealer and subdued dark eyeshadow with her lips stained a deep red shade Mistress had personally selected from Agatha’s own collection.

She had to admit, she hadn’t fully realised how much working under the Mistress would involve so much micromanagement of her appearance, even if for her work she was mostly left to her own devices. She also wasn't used to wearing makeup every day at work, and she was trying hard not to smudge her cheap foundation by touching her face.

Much of her day was taken up by feeling her way through the various tasks she had been allocated. Easiest was managing the mail, physical and electronic, that came in for the manor. The occasional parcel or letter for the staff, or even deliveries of who-knows-what for the Mistresses or their playthings. She was sure to keep her conduct professional. She didn’t have to be nice, but she did have to be courteous. She didn’t have much in the way of authority, but she was able to direct people.

It was a very strange position to be in. A contradiction in some ways. Authority made her nervous; whether to have or simply be around. But she’d manage.

However, there was still the matter of when she had absolutely nothing to do. There was a period of at least three hours where there was nothing to sort, nowhere to be, and nothing to receive or pass through. Mistress had been very specific that phones were not to be used during work hours, so she was keeping it turned off and pushed to the back of a desk drawer. Luckily, she had something else to keep her occupied.

She had open on her desk an orange-covered journal covered in stickers, noting down her feelings and thoughts for the day. It was meditative, and gave her something to do with her hands.

“This new job is weird,” she wrote, “But I’m not really allowed to talk much about it because of the non-disclosure agreement. So I guess I’ll be writing mostly about my own emotions and things I want. I just hope I don’t get myself in trouble, this is a big job.”

The tap of heels heralded the arrival of Mistress from behind her, and Agatha shut and stowed away her journal in one of her drawers. It was as she was closing it that she heard Mistress’ voice speak sternly.

‘Stop. What do you have there?’

Agatha’s pulse jolted as she worried she’d fucked up her job on literally the first day, ‘It’s, ah, my journal, Ma’am. I like using it to organise my thoughts and feelings. It gives me something to look back on.’

‘Hand it here.’

Agatha held the journal like a guilty child caught with a toy they weren’t supposed to have. She handed it to the Mistress, who inspected the last few pages she’d written. It was then that something of a softness came over her, a faint but wistful smile playing about her lips. Agatha got the sense she wasn't really reading her journal before she looked up from it.

‘How many of these journals do you have?’ she inquired.

‘That’s the uh, eighth chapter of my life Ma’am,’ Agatha explained, ‘I’ve been writing them since high school.’

Mistress snapped the book shut, ‘I’ll be keeping these for the duration of your time here. I see you are being careful about your NDA, but I am currently not willing to take any chances. You’re lucky I’m letting you off with this,’ she warned with a dire tone before changing the subject, ‘My wife will be coming home tonight. I expect you to greet her and fill her in with the major events of the past week.’

‘Yes Ma’am.’

Tucking the journal under her arm, Mistress strode from the lobby to an adjacent room, onto her next important matter.

Agatha sat back down at her desk, a little put out. She was going to have to hand over all of her journals? That was a pretty huge part of her private history. And while she didn’t have a hugely messy past, she was more than aware of some of the major mistakes she’d made in her past.

Not to mention all the submissive thoughts she’d recorded about herself.

Then again, she doubted Mistress would have any special interest in her. She had an entire harem of slaves she’d already hand-picked to serve her needs. Although since most of them weren't really living at the mansion full time anymore she might have more time to kill? Then again her workload did seem enormous.

Besides, that's not what Agatha was there for. She was hired essentially to be an extension of the Mistress; her eyes, her ears, her voice, and very occasionally her hands and feet.

Speaking of feet, Agatha’s own were starting to get quite sore from the heels she was wearing. She was used to wearing boots, which she wasn’t afraid to admit she had something of a kink for. Heels not so much, but she was able to appreciate their own beauty and style.

She briefly entertained the thought about what kind of boots Mistress would like to wear. Likely something with stiletto heels, as she seemed to have a very heavy preference for them. Genuine leather from the most expensive possible materials and craftworks, if the decadence of their environment was anything to go by. Almost definitely calf or thigh length.

Gosh, what would they taste like?

Agatha shook the loose thoughts from her head. She could daydream about licking boots later. She had a job to do.

More time passed as Agatha was finalising tomorrow’s daily schedule for Mistress when the front door clicked open. She had just enough time to look up before she saw a pair of other servants escorting in another figure.

The evening light smouldered through the open door, wreathing this woman in a corona of orange light. Her dress and posture was elegant and serene, a flowing strapless dress of green silk reaching the dustless marble floor. Her jewellery was ostentatious, but carried soft elegance with bands of gold set with expertly cut gemstones. The strangest piece to Agatha was a tiara perched daintily on her head, a pear-drop cut crystal of emerald caged within a wire frame of gold.

Agatha was stunned for a moment, but she had to shake herself out of her stupor. Though her nervousness remained.

There was only one person this woman could be.

‘Good evening, your Majesty. Welcome home,’ Agatha said, trying to remember the sentence she had been mentally practising for some time, ‘Mistress is currently attending to matters in her home office if you would like to see her.’

The noblewoman at the end of the hall took notice of her, stepping closer to inspect her.

‘You must be our new receptionist,’ she said with a flowing and melodious voice, ‘What’s your name, darling?’

Agatha tried not to let her heart leap too far into her mouth, ‘I-uh- M-my name is Agatha, your Highness. Agatha Avery. I only started working today so … I hope I prove worthy.’

Her Majesty gave a thoughtful hum, ‘From what I’ve heard of you, you have made a good first impression,’ she leaned in closer, ‘Between you and I, my darling doesn’t take to new people so easily. You must have done something to impress her,’ she said before adding with a mischievous wink; ‘Or at least, amuse her.’

‘Um, I…’ Agatha stammered, looking down in light embarrassment ‘I suppose I … I did stay sitting on a chair overnight, since she told me not to move before she stepped out for more pressing matters.’

‘Overnight? Oh you are just precious, aren’t you?’ the woman grinned, the curve of her smile as elegant as the rest of her, ‘Though that is unusual. May I ask what had kept her?’

‘Ah, that was something I was meant to update you on, Majesty,’ Agatha continued, ‘Mistress had recovered and bound by contract a new ward she wished to discuss with you, someone named … Jenny, I think?’

Agatha had never seen someone’s expression change so immediately and so dramatically. A benevolent smile melted into recognition, then intense, base fury.

‘Where,’ she seethed, ‘Is she.’

Totally caught off guard, Agatha barely was able to force her thoughts into words, ‘Mistress said, ah, she said it would be best if you saw her t-to let her explain, your Highness.’

Without another word she broke off her stare and strode away, her heels like thundercracks on the floor. Agatha stood frozen, watching her until she started up the stairs, until she turned back to her with fire in her eyes.

‘What are you doing, stupid girl?’ she hissed, ‘Attend me!’

‘Yes your Majesty!’ Agatha yelped, rushing to her side as her Majesty began to climb the stairs again.

Agatha had to move quickly on her own heels to keep up with the rapidly striding woman she was stumbling to keep up with. Damn these heels! It wasn’t long before they had reached Mistress’ office, and her Majesty forced the door open to Mistress working at her own laptop.

Her Highness slammed her palms down on the desk as she stood over Mistress, still not a hair out of place.

‘What is she doing back here?’ she said in a furious, barely hushed tone.

‘I had noticed Jenny's truck in Rome,’ Mistress said, shutting the screen of her laptop, ‘She’s handed herself over to an indenture contract to repay her debt she owes us.’

‘And you did so without consulting me? You keep doing this,’ Majesty was almost screaming now, ‘When are you going to tell me things and stop acting out on your own!’

‘It’s because Precious begged me to!’ Mistress snapped, her own voice raising, ‘She has this … obsession with her! I couldn’t bear to look at her like that.’

‘After everything she did to her? To us!’

‘I know!’ Mistress screamed before trying to settle her shaking voice, ‘I know. But I … thought it was important to honour who Precious was before she belonged to us, to honour Nicole’s needs. She is ours, but we have to remember where she came from,’ Mistress sighed woefully, ‘And she has to as well. I know it’s painful, but Jenny’s presence here may help with that.’

Her Majesty choked on a sob as she began to brim with tears. Mistress stood from her desk and pulled her wife into a tender embrace. For the first time in the incredibly scant time Agatha had known either of these women, they looked remarkably … normal. Vulnerable and human as anyone else.
Until Mistress’ glare caught Agatha’s own stare.

‘Yes, miss Avery? What is it?’ Mistress snapped.

‘I-um … her Majesty ordered I attend her here,’ Agatha spoke.

‘Well your services are not required,’ Mistress said with heavy menace, ‘Dismissed.’

Agatha gave a quick curtsy and had to keep herself from stumbling as she scurried out the door, back to her own room. She got as far as a few turned corners before her breathing became too shaky and laboured. Her muscles twitched and her face quivered. Steadying herself against the rich wallpaper of the manor, she slid down to the ground and buried her face into her knees and began to sob.

She always hated when people yelled at each other.

Agatha couldn’t sleep. Not even self-hypnosis was helping her get her mind off the day’s events, and for some reason her melatonin was seemingly taking its sweet time kicking in.

She rolled over and sniffled. The high emotions of the last few days were extremely draining. Agatha knew she was crashing hard but there wasn’t much that could be done about that. Really she was just lucky to still have her job. And all this trouble around some woman named Jenny? Whoever she was, whatever she had done, she must have pissed off those two women something terrible. Theirs was an absolutely righteous fury.

Shuffling under her sheets, Agatha pulled one of her numerous large plushies closer. This whole situation was like something out of a melodramatic smutfic. Wealthy and powerful nobles picking up disaffected nobodies as their servants to staff their huge and opulent castle, where untold perversions echoed from within.

Agatha chuckled to herself, feeling a little better now that she had something else to think about. This would honestly make quite a fun story. Though she did give pause to the thought of the NDA Mistress had warned her so direly about. Still, as long as she didn’t replicate any events which she had borne witness to directly in her writing, then she should be fine, right? And of course she could take a few “artistic liberties.”

Agatha pulled an old ratty dressing gown around her and sat down at her computer. She would hammer out a few pages and go back to bed when she was feeling tired. Writing when one was inspired wasn’t something anyone could help. It was a flighty little pixie that had to be caught before it flew away.

She began to weave words together like stitches and quilting, beginning her story with a weather-beaten traveller staggering towards the imposing castle Lusgardt. The snow pelted - no, perhaps rain worked better. Then she could describe the way the thick mud sucked at the traveller’s boots. Yeah, that worked much better!

And she would be greeted by outriders which drag her back to Lusgardt behind their horses – actually, make those dinosaurs! Not enough weird giant velociraptor mounts in fiction. And she’d be met with the Captain of the Guard, only to be interrogated by the castle’s protector, the intimidating and stern Champion of Lusgardt. Pitch black plate armour with a ragged crimson cloak, a perfect description! An elf too, a master of dark magic and blade both, wielder of Ebon Lightning! But she would be serving – utterly devoted to – the castle’s Queen, the High Magus of Burning Emeralds, mysterious and aloof and untouchable.

But that weary traveller, taken in to serve as a humble maiden, has a dark secret harboured within her. A sinister, sorcerous power which only she knows of…

Agatha yawned and stretched, only now realising how much time had passed. She cursed internally and powered off her computer, scrambling back to bed. It was extremely important she stuck to her schedule. No telling what could happen to her if she upset either of her Mistresses enough.