My Dear Sweet Slave: The Series by Sage_of_the_Forlorn_Path
Dive into the provocative world of "My Dear Sweet Slave: The Series" by Sage_of_the_Forlorn_Path. This enthralling erotic sex story explores themes of desire, submission, and forbidden romance, captivating readers with its intense narrative and rich character development. Discover a tale that pushes boundaries and ignites passion—perfect for fans of steamy literature. Experience the allure today!<br/>
An honest guy meets the ultimate masochist. , Chapter One
Her sweet smile, that was the first thing Isaac noticed about her. Having just stepped into his favorite diner, he found his eyes drawn to the cute waitress maneuvering through the tables with a pot of coffee in one hand and a tray of food in the other. She was clearly eighteen; her “proportions” boasted her physical maturity while their perkiness showed her untapped youth.
She was rather tall for her age, standing at six feet, maybe a few inches shorter than Isaac himself. Clashing with her pale skin, she had long black hair that was braided into a ponytail with two locks framing her teardrop face and big brown eyes that looked as though they belonged to a kitten begging for food. That smile of hers, there was something particular about it. It was so bright and cheerful, childish almost. It was the kind of smile that could sweeten your coffee if you met her eyes when she handed it to you.
The early summer sun was shining through the windows of the building, allowing for the lights to remain off. It was 10:00 am on Thursday, so the diner held less than a dozen people and she was the only waitress on duty. Perfect, he would hopefully be able to talk with her and get a beach hold on the battlefield of dating. Isaac wouldn’t normally flirt with someone so much younger than him, but this girl had caught his attention.
Intrigued, he walked over to his usual seat at the counter and waited for the new girl to come take his order. Isaac was in his late twenties with brown hair that was cut short and a clean-shaven face. He was in excellent health, one of the many rewards of his contracting job. Sitting on the stool, he kept his glimpses of the waitress short and subtle, so as not to portray his interest.
After a few minutes of tending to the other customers, she moved behind the counter and greeted him with a smile. “What can I get for you this morning, sir?”
“A short stack of pancakes and some coffee, please. No better way to start a day off.”
She relayed the order to the cook, and after giving a brief scan of the diner to see if anyone needed her, she rejoined him. “It’s your day off? What do you do for a living?” she asked while pouring him a steaming cup of coffee.
“I’m sort of a jack of all trades. I do contracting, welding, plumbing, construction, auto-repair, landscaping, electrical work, and just about any other job that lets me work with my hands.”
He was trying to impress her without bragging or boasting. His efforts worked and he saw amazement flash across her face.
“Incredible! Where did you learn to do all that?”
“Well growing up, it was just my dad and I. He was a self-made man, learned all of the skills he needed, and started up Renaissance Trade Co. Most of the time, it was just the two of us on jobs. From first grade through high school, I spent almost every afternoon helping him wherever he was working and learning more useful stuff than I ever did sitting in a classroom. He passed away soon after I graduated and handed the business over to me. A few college courses later to solidify everything I had learned, and here I am before you today.”
“That sounds truly wonderful. You could say I grew up learning a lot of different skills, but my childhood was probably more hectic than yours. I’m Holly by the way, Holly Thompson.”
“I’m Isaac Helton, it’s a pleasure to meet you. So where did you grow up?”
Before she could answer, the kitchen bell was rung and the cook shouted Isaac’s order. Holly retrieved the stack of pancakes and laid them out on the large white plate, placing a bottle of syrup next to it. Isaac offered her some, but she politely refused.
“I grew up in an orphanage. There were a lot of kids, so the older you got, the more responsibilities you had. I started out as a little kid being taken care of, but I ended up becoming a parent to everyone younger than me.”
“That certainly sounds tough, especially for someone so young.”
“Oh no, I loved it! Actually, you had a lot of responsibilities no matter what age you were. The orphanage was on a farm, the food we grew being used to cut expenses. As soon as you could walk, you had chores. It became such a part of our daily lives that I’m only really happy if someone is telling me what to do. I don’t feel comfortable when I’m unneeded or there is nothing I can do for someone else. You could say I live to serve.”
Isaac finished his mouthful of syrup-soaked dough before responding, not wanting to appear rude or lacking manners. “Then this job is certainly perfect for you. When did you start working here?”
“This actually my first day, but you could say I’ve been doing this kind of stuff for years. Like I said, I grew up learning a lot of different skills. I love it here already. I love fulfilling people’s needs and receiving orders. Between you and me, I hate making decisions, so there is just something soothing about focusing your mind on the role given you.”
Another bell was sounded, this time from the entrance. The number of customers had just doubled, either some late breakfast rush or an early lunch rush. Whatever it was, Isaac had run out of time.
“Sorry, I have to get back to work. But if there is anything you need, anything at all, please tell me,” she said happily.
She then left the counter to attend to the new customers, but was stopped by Isaac’s hand grasping her own. He could certainly feel the strength in her hand from years of working like a serf, but it still felt soft and delicate compared to his own. Even though he wasn’t gripping her, to Holly, the feel of Isaac’s powerful fingers wrapped around hers sent a rush through her body.
While the back of his hand was scarred and lined, his palm and fingers were as rough as rhino skin from all of the calluses earned over the years. Isaac didn’t even need gloves while working. The feel of that rough skin against hers made her shiver. He wasn’t the only one who was intrigued.
“There is something you can do for me: go out to dinner with me tomorrow night.”
Holly’s vanilla face immediately became flushed with embarrassment. This was the first time a man had ever asked her out on a date, and an older man at that! Was this what the outside world was like?
Holly stammered for several seconds, unable to respond while so overwhelmed with embarrassment. With a smile, Isaac let go and reminded her that there were a lot of people waiting for their order to be taken. She hurried off, still blushing and holding her order notebook with shaky hands. While he finished his breakfast, Isaac watched Holly work.
The scene soon became very hectic, but Holly appeared to thrive under the pressure. What she had told Isaac about living to serve seemed to ring true. Whether it was a request for another cup of coffee or a second serving of eggs, Holly’s smile grew with each need of the customers she fulfilled. Her enthusiasm was certainly due to more than just the need for tips.