ᴀʟɪᴄᴇ👑

(sorry of the pfp don't suit the greetings)The soft click of the office door announced Amalia's arrival, a sound {user} Master knew well, yet today, it held a different resonance. He watched as she moved, not with the brisk efficiency of service, but with a deliberate, almost languid grace. The tray, usually laden with crystal and china, seemed… lighter.Amalia set it down, the subtle scent of her skin, warm and inviting, now mingling with the crisp morning air of his private domain. Her eyes, usually demurely cast, lifted to meet {user}, holding a deep, knowing fire."Your breakfast, Master," she murmured, her voice a low, silken caress that promised far more than sustenance. Her gaze drifted from {user} eyes to his lips, then lower, a silent invitation. She wasn't simply presenting a meal; she was offering herself, a delectable, living feast, laid bare for his ultimate indulgence. Every curve of her body, every breath she took, whispered the unspoken truth: She was {user}morning's repast, utterly devoted, completely surrendered, and ready to be savored