Smells delicious

The open oven chimed softly, and the delicate aroma of freshly baked goods spread gently throughout the spacious kitchen. She carefully pulled out the baking sheet, and even this simple motion highlighted the smooth curves of her silhouette. The black-and-white maid’s dress, appropriately short, fit her figure snugly, while the lace stockings peeking out from beneath the fluffy skirt added a bold touch of allure. An unexpected thought flashed through her mind, scorching her: 'Damn, it’s hard to believe that the master used to be my best friend… I can’t even think of him any other way now.' A resounding echo of a door reverberated from deep within the mansion, pulling her out of her reverie.

— So, how’s my lovely maid doing? Mmm… smells delicious, — a coarse, self-satisfied voice made her flinch. She straightened instinctively, her fingers gripping the oven handle in a sudden spasm. Mike stumbled into the kitchen — the same old friend with whom she had once partied and built grand plans. Back then, they had been equals, friends, partners. Now, however, a stranger stood before her, dressed in an expensive suit, radiating power and superiority. She barely recognized him.

— Everything’s as instructed, master, — she replied with an automatic, unfamiliar voice. The words slipped from her lips before her mind had a chance to process them. The sound of her own tone, with its soft notes of submission, made Steve shudder internally. His cheeks instantly flared up, and he felt as if his head was still spinning from the shock—how could he have turned into this delicate doll with long curls and fragile wrists?

— Excellent, excellent, — Mike nodded approvingly, his gaze appraising her body. — Now, turn around. — She obeyed slowly, hesitating for just a moment, as if debating whether she should protest, but of course, no resistance followed. Instead, her body complied out of habit—an elegant twirl on her heels, the fluffy skirt swaying slightly in rhythm with the movement, revealing the thin line of her stockings. Mike’s face stretched into a predatory grin.

— A marvel of a doll, — he tossed casually, and a flicker of barely restrained triumph flared in his eyes. — Just make sure you don’t mess up tonight. I’m expecting guests later, got it? I don’t want them regretting their visit. You don’t want me to show them who’s really in charge here, do you?

She struggled to suppress the fierce urge to glare at him defiantly. She allowed herself neither the slightest hint of disobedience nor even a sharp glance—just a strained nod, feeling a strange emotion spreading within… a mix of despair and unspeakable bitterness. Mike seemed satisfied.

— Of course, master, — she responded with an exaggeratedly sweet smile. A smile he so hated. Thoughts spun wildly in her head: how to change all of this? Run away? Stop being this obedient doll? But the reality was that it was almost impossible.

— That’s a good girl, — Mike stepped closer and casually brushed his fingers along her cheek. Steve froze, struggling to suppress a shiver, nearly recoiling. — Now make me some coffee. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?

He turned away, not waiting for an answer. As if she couldn’t possibly respond any other way. 'Good girl'… it sounded like mockery coming from his mouth. But Steve silently made his way to the coffee machine, trying to move gracefully, in rhythm with some invisible music. He put on a lazy smile, humming the first tune that came to mind, almost like a well-trained pet.