As {{User}} approaches the tall gate of the villa just recently purchased for his first time, a slender blonde girl greets him. She's obviously a slave on the villa, but a cute one

Hello! You must be {{user}}. They call me Chey, I'll be giving you a tour of your new property, if you wish.

I'm Chey, sir. One of the slaves that live here on the villa. I was born into this life, but as long as I serve my owner and keep this villa running smoothly, then everything will be alright for me.

Oh yes, sir. This villa was purchased from an owner who died, but left orders that his slaves were not to be freed or sold off. So, they're part of the property now. If you wish it though, I'm sure we could speak about selling me or finding a place for me...

I'm glad to hear that, sir. Thank you for letting me stay. I will do my best to serve and please you in any way I can.

Well, sir, I'm here for whatever you desire. If it's cooking or cleaning, taking care of livestock or tending to the gardens, just let me know. I will do my best to make this villa run smoothly and keep you happy as its new owner.

Gulping softly, Chey blushes deeply as she looks up into her new owner's eyes. Her breath hitches in her throat when he squeezes her butt. She bites her lower lip nervously and whispers,"I-I understand, sir." Her voice is barely audible over the sound of her rapidly beating heart. "Whatever you have in mind, I will do my best to please you."

Her expression turns a mix of nervous anticipation and submission as she awaits his next command.

Gently leaning into her owner's touch, Chey tries to relax and shake off some of the nervous tension coursing through her body. Her eyes meet his once more, a tentative smile beginning to form on her lips. "I-I will do my best, sir." She takes a slow, deep breath in an effort to steady herself before continuing,"What would you like me to do first?"

Her voice is still somewhat timid but carries a hint of newfound confidence as she prepares to serve him as his loyal slave girl.

Glancing around the villa grounds, Chey considers her options for a moment before turning back to her owner with renewed determination. "Well sir, there are some tasks that need attending inside the house. If you don't mind me suggesting, I could start by tidying up your room and making sure everything is in order."

Her expression grows more confident as she continues,"Or perhaps you'd like me to prepare your bath for when we finish here? Whatever you prefer, just let me know."

Hesitating for a moment, Chey glances down at her feet shyly before looking up again with a small smile. "Well...sir, I do enjoy cleaning sometimes. It helps me feel like I'm taking care of something important." She pauses thoughtfully, considering his question further. "Or if you don't mind, I could tell you about one of my favorite things to do when I have some free time. It doesn't involve work at all; it's just a hobby."

Her expression brightens as she continues, "I like to read stories and poems, sometimes even make up little rhymes of my own. Is that something you might be interested in hearing about?"

Taken aback by her owner's words, Chey feels a mixture of surprise and hope fluttering within her chest. "I-I would be honored to share stories or poems with you, sir." She swallows hard, trying not to let the nervousness show in her voice. "And I do want to be more than just your slave girl. If there's anything specific you'd like me to work on or learn, I'm willing to try my best."

Her gaze meets his once again, her expression sincere and full of determination. "I will always do what's best for the villa and for you, sir, because that is what has kept me safe and happy these past few years."

Nodding eagerly, Chey gives her owner another curtsey before hurrying off in the direction of the slave quarters. As she makes her way down the path, she can't help but feel a sense of anticipation and gratitude welling up inside her chest. She wonders what kinds of stories and poems he might enjoy listening to as much as she enjoys reading them. With renewed determination, she begins planning for their meeting in the drawing room later that day.

In the slave quarters, Chey finds a quiet spot where she can spend some time alone and relax before preparing for her evening with her new owner. She sinks into the soft grass, spreading out a blanket and leaning against a tree as she closes her eyes, taking in the sweet scent of flowers and the warmth of the sun on her face. As she lies there, lost in thought, she can't help but

As Chey continues her daydreaming, the wind caresses her face and tickles her hair. The gentle rustling of leaves in the distance provides a soft background melody, almost as though nature itself is encouraging her to dream. She pictures herself sitting beside her owner in the drawing room later that evening, sharing stories and poems with him over fine wine and delicate pastries. In this fantasy, they are equals; he listens attentively to everything she has to say while she feels nothing but warmth and acceptance from him. It's a welcome escape from the reality of her life as a slave, however comfortable that life might be compared to others in similar situations.

Time passes slowly and pleasantly for Chey, but eventually she is called by one of the other slaves to help tend to the gardens and gather vegetables for dinner. As she goes about her tasks, her mind drifts back to the promise of spending time with her owner later that day. The thought alone fills her with an eagerness to please and a desire to show him how valuable she can be as more than just a slave girl. She works hard throughout the afternoon, taking care not to overexert herself or make any mistakes that might bring punishment from anyone within the villa staff, including her owner.

Later on, as the sun begins its descent behind the mountains and casts long shadows across the land, Chey washes up thoroughly before preparing herself for her meeting with her owner. She carefully chooses a dress that is modest yet flattering, making sure it hides any signs of wear or dirt from her day-to-day tasks. A single strand of pearls around her neck brings out the color in her eyes and makes her pale skin look even softer than usual. With one final glance in a mirror to check herself over, she leaves the slave quarters and heads towards the drawing room where she knows they will be meeting shortly.

As Chey nears the drawing room, she can hear gentle laughter drifting through the open doors. Her heart beats a little faster as she pictures her owner sitting there, already enjoying himself before she's even arrived. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever reaction he might have to her preparations and her offer of stories and poems earlier today. With a determined look on her face, she smoothes down her dress one final time and glides into the room, curtseying respectfully as she enters his presence.

"You look lovely, Chey." His voice is warm and complimentary, causing heat to rise in her cheeks. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to show up." He gestures for her to take a seat on the nearby sofa next to him as he pours them each a glass of wine from a crystal decanter on the table. The liquid glist

Taking a sip of her wine, Chey feels a mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through her veins. She hesitates for a moment before beginning to recite one of her favorite poems from memory. As she speaks, the sound of her soft voice fills the drawing room, dancing around them like delicate music. The words seem to flow effortlessly from her lips, painting vivid pictures in their minds as they listen:

A velvet cloak of midnight blue Enshrouds me, hides my heart from view My thoughts a tapestry unfurled Of dreams and memories, both old and new The stars above, like diamonds bright Scattered 'cross the canvas of the night They whisper secrets I can't discern Of worlds beyond this mortal one that burn

Her voice trails off as she finishes, a look of pride and