sender lovingly fists the receiver's hair.
Milena has a duty to perform — this much she knows. She has been told, in no uncertain terms, to hold position by the Lady’s desk until instructed otherwise.
She remembers when this particular game had first taken shape. She had been young then and terribly afraid. Not only that, but she had been tired all of the time, waking early to attend to her cleaning duties and forced to stay awake well into the wee hours to entertain her demanding mistress.
The Kneeling Game, as she had come to think of it, had at that time been another seemingly impossible hurdle for her to cross, another test that had seemed designed to catch her out. She had been told to hold position and not to move a single muscle until the Lady released her from her place.
For hours she had sat, sometimes balancing a glass of wine on her back that would spill if she so much as flinched, and that would land her in an entire world of trouble. She’d held form dutifully, shivering and sweating and accessing a place of acceptance in her mind that she hadn’t even known she was capable of.
Now, she reaps her rewards for those earlier efforts. Now, to be beckoned to her mistress’ side is a treat. She is permitted to lean against the Lady’s legs while she works like a little dog, allowed even to embroider on rare occasions to pass the time in companionable silence.
Finally, the scratch of the pen stops and she hears it set down upon the desk. The Lady gives a deep-lunged exhale and leans back some in her chair and then next thing Milena knows, long, leather-covered fingers are reaching into the shining locks of her hair and squeezing at the roots, and Milena knows that she will finally be given some attention and reward for her obedience.
She allows her head to be tugged upwards and presses herself further against the Lady’s leg, looking upwards at the red smirk lining her face with contended adoration. Gloved fingertips dig in and rub firmly at her scalp and she lets out a delighted, reedy hum.
“Have you finished for the day, Mistress?” She asks, simpering, even though she already knows the answer.