Don't Drink and Drive 05

The kitchen was spacious but old-fashioned, the furniture was worn and could have been better taken care of. The stove was old but sturdy, it must have been over 20 years old. Next to it was a stone countertop, and the kitchen was equipped with a Bimby. On the other side of the kitchen, there was a refrigerator and a washing machine. Miguel didn't pay much attention to his house after his divorce, but the things he had were of quality.

"Do you know how to cook? Or will I have to keep doing all the cooking myself?" Of course, I knew how to cook and quite well at that, especially cakes, but in daily life, I bought a lot of food outside. Living alone does that to people.

"These are really good news, do you have any favorite dishes or foods that you like? Allergies? foods you dislike I enjoy everything, except chicken soup." He told me.

"I also don't like chicken soup, but I love chicken, especially curry and grilled chicken. And I know how to make an excellent Bacalhau à Braz(salted cod fish with eggs and fried potatoes)," After the kitchen, we both went to the living room which was quite spacious and divided into three areas: a dining table, a sofa, and a TV area, and a small office with a computer. The center of the room was dominated by a fireplace on which there were several hunting bows a musket and various plaques with medals displayed.

"Did you win all these medals?" I asked with genuine interest.

"I won some, but not as many as I would have liked. If you're interested, I can take you to the shooting range on Saturday morning and even introduce you to my teammates. Here, give it a try!"

Miguel grabbed a wooden bow and showed me how to use it, his voice sounding like an excited little boy. When he handed it to me, he said."Pay attention! You can't let go of the bowstring or you could get hurt." He had opened and closed the bow multiple times, mimicking a shot, but I couldn't even move the string more than 1 or 2 cm. Either the bow had a trick to open or he was a much stronger man than he appeared.

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Trying to use your arms won't work, not even my cousin who is a marine can do it that way. The trick is to use the muscles in your back." He leaned against my back and placed his hands over mine, opening the bow. His body pressed against mine, I could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck.

He put the bow back on the rack and we went to the sleeping room. It was a simple room with only one solid cherry wood bed, a dresser with a mirror, and a wardrobe. The only unusual thing was a standing coat hanger with a suit of chainmail armor and a gambeson. He was a history nerd and I was a history teacher.

The last room, his daughter's, was even more spartan than his own - just a bed, a wardrobe, and a staircase leading down to the basement."Does your daughter spend a lot of time with you?" The room had no personal touches.

"Since she went away to college in Aveiro, she only comes here occasionally, but when she does, you are my slave, not hers." The fact that Miguel's daughter doesn't live with him is a source of sadness for him.

After the quick house tour, we both returned to the living room. He looked out of the window and then at his watch.

"Sofia, it's almost dinnertime. What do you think about ordering something special for our first dinner together as owner and slave?" It was a good idea, we could use this time to get to know each other better. After all, in a couple of hours, maybe even less, I would be having sex with this man who literally held my fate in his hands.

"An excellent idea would be to order your favorite dish sir. What is your favorite dish?" It was important to know what my owner liked to eat, I already knew he enjoyed eating pussy, but I needed to know his tastes in more detail.

"I don't know exactly, but today is a special day, so let's order something that we just can't cook at home. What do you prefer, stuffed crab or roasted suckling pig?" I liked both, stuffed crab was sexier and more aphrodisiac but we had eaten sushi at lunch.

"I choose roasted suckling pig, and if possible sparkling wine," I replied with a smile.

"Not sparkling wine, today we have the right to real champagne. I always keep a bottle of -Caves Aliança- in the fridge for those special days, and today is a very special day." He caressed my face, his fingers running through my hair. His touch was not unpleasant, but it felt more like a statement of ownership over me and my body than a show of affection.

"Thank you for finding me special Sir, I will try not to disappoint you," I smiled and tried to hide my anxiety.

"Don't be nervous, red. Those boobies of yours will never disappoint me." I took the hint and quickly unbuttoned my blouse and took my breasts out of my bra.

"Here they are, boss, at your disposal," I say with a mischievous smile while arching my back to show them off. I can't believe how much I have changed in just two days.

"I believe it is a great lack of manners not to look into a woman's eyes while talking to her," joked Miguel as his right hand groped my breast, his gaze never once straying from mine.

"I cannot express how dreadful it is for me to speak with a man who cannot take his eyes off my cleavage. Thank you for being a gentleman." I used a sarcastic but lighthearted tone, gentlemen do not grope Ladies' breasts, at least not those of free ladies, I thought to myself.

"As long as you behave like a lady, I will treat you as such," his voice mirrored my own. I felt a pinch on my nipple, to my shame I cannot say that I didn't enjoy it.

"I think that proper Ladies don't show their boobs to gentlemen in the dining room." As I finished saying these words his eyes looked down at my exposed breasts.

"What? Your boobs are out, I hadn't noticed. And what pretty little tities they are!" He laughed loudly, unable to contain himself. I laughed too, enjoying the way he played with both words and with my breasts.

"No, proper ladies don't really put their breasts on display, but a smart slave like you who knows how to anticipate her owner's desires can expect to be treated like a lady." His words aligned perfectly with my own thoughts on how to survive the next seven years.

"Sofia, I enjoyed playing with your breasts and the intelligent way you offered them to me, but now is not the time for me to possess you. You are not a Slut to be fucked on the couch, not today." I am not a Slut to be fucked on the couch, I am a slave to be fucked in the bedroom, but I can also choose to be a sexual partner for him, someone he loves having sex with, I chose that path, the only problem is that I don't know how to have sex. But I will learn, Miguel will be my teacher.

Miguel called the restaurant "Dom Leitão" and ordered a serving of roasted suckling pig for two people with sliced french fries, orange slices, tomato salad, and profiteroles for dessert.

"Sofia I'm going to take a shower and get dressed for dinner, you set the table, the dinnerware is on the middle shelf in the living room cabinet and the towel is in the second drawer." This was my chance to continue making a good impression, this time as a good homemaker. I took out the towel from the drawer and placed it on the table - it was a hand-embroidered linen towel, possibly made by Miguel's mother or grandmother. As I finished setting the table for dinner, I felt proud of myself - the Vista Alegre dinnerware, embroidered towel, and silverware were all impeccable.

After setting the table, I took the opportunity to closely examine the shelves in the living room. His collection of books was impressive - technical books on chemistry, anatomy, and pharmacology, as well as European comics, essays, and treatises on various subjects, mythology, politics, and history. In a prominent spot were the complete works of Tolkien in English - what kind of person must one be to read "The Silmarillion" in English? But there were also many more historical and fantasy novels on the shelves, some in Portuguese and others in English.

I found the book that my owner had refused to buy at Fnac, "Thus Portugal was born; for the love of a woman." The first page was signed by the author in sepia ink: "To Miguel with friendship, signed, Gonçalo Amaral." But I didn't have time to read any further, I felt the bathroom door opening, and my owner had finished his bath. I quickly made my way to the hallway.

"Do you need anything, Sir?" I asked him.

"No, Sofia! Thank you. I'll just get dressed for dinner and then join you in the living room." I was excited at the thought of seeing Miguel's naked body. What would his penis look like? Large? Short? Circumcised? His legs were hairy, but that was all I could see of his body under the bathrobe he was wearing. It was childish behavior on my part, but no matter what he looked like, he would be my Man for the next few years.

He took a few more minutes in the room, but when he emerged, he was impeccably dressed: white shirt, tie, dark blue pants, and polished black Oxford shoes. I was in my best appearance, but he outdone me. It made me feel proud that my master had taken the time to dress up for our first dinner together.

"You look so elegant. I wasn't expecting it, thank you, I really like it." I smiled with my eyes.

"I'm glad to know that my outfit pleases you. Hope I can also please you without it" He smiled, then looked at the table and the way the plates and silverware were arranged.

"Excellent work Sofia! You also did great work setting the table, I am very pleased with the elegance of this table." His praise was sincere, it felt good to be appreciated.

"Thank you very much, but the most important thing, the food, is still missing." I had barely finished speaking when the doorbell rang. I quickly tried to compose my breasts back into my bra, ready to go answer the door and receive the delivery boy with our food.

"Sofia, please leave your breasts exposed, the boy deserves a tip." I looked at him and was about to protest but managed to hold myself.

"Yes, Miguel certainly." My tone became formal, his words hit me like a cold shower, but I bare-breasted and opened the door for the boy, a dark-skinned Pakistani, small and thin.

"Is this Miguel Mourato place?" He asked in broken Portuguese.

"Yes, it's here. Thank you," I responded as I quickly gathered the paper bags with our food. He avoided my bare breast the best he could, more uncomfortable than grateful for the "tip." The life of an illegal immigrant can be worse and with fewer rights than that of a judicial slave.

In the kitchen, I took out the suckling pig, the sauce, and the sides for platters and placed everything on the dining table. I placed the profiteroles in the fridge and brought the champagne to the table.

Miguel uncorked the bottle of champagne.

POP!

The cork from the bottle jumped and hit the ceiling before landing on my chest, he smiled triumphantly.

"Sofia, your breasts are so fine that even the bottle corks like to kiss them, but I don't think it's appropriate for a lady to have dinner with her breasts exposed."

After I composed myself and regained some dignity, Miguel served the Champagne and made a toast.

"To our Health!" said Miguel, and he drank the contents of his glass in one gulp. I hesitated.

"To toast and not drink afterward, it's seven years without fucking. Do you want to spend the next seven years without sex?" He said jokingly, it was a popular saying that applied to me, but I doubt I would ever go a day in the next seven years without sex. I closed my eyes and drank.

"To our health!" I said, repeating Miguel's gesture. I waited for him to sit down before starting to serve the food.

"I am the one who serves the food in my house, even to a slave," Miguel said firmly, it was a situation similar to what happened with the car door when we arrived, in Portugal it is usually the head of the family who serves the food to their guests, but I had thought that I would be serving him as if I were a restaurant employee. My status as a slave clashed with the rules of etiquette and chivalry.

The roasted suckling pig was delicious, with crispy and crunchy skin, garlic, bay leaf, and black pepper sauce, orange slices to cut through the excess fat, and champagne as the perfect accompaniment for this dish. If it weren't for the collar around my neck identifying me as a slave, this would be an excellent dinner between two cultured and educated individuals that would naturally end with the two of them making love. But I was not a free woman, and I would have to pleasure my owner. The thought of not being able to satisfy him scared me more than being forced to have sex with Miguel. What I feared most was being a disappointment to him. I was aware of my beauty, but I knew that alone wouldn't be enough.

"It is very good, it was an excellent choice Sofia, do you want another piece of piglet meat?" Miguel asked me.

"Yes, please, a piece with skin and also a little more champagne," I handed him my cup.

"Here you go, with crispy skin as you requested and another glass of champagne. You understand I don't need to get you drunk to take advantage of you, don't you?" Yes, I knew, and as a slave, I couldn't be abused, only used. But as Miguel had told me before at lunch, I should learn to appreciate the small good things in each day."

I don't think you would be capable of having sexual relations with me if I were drunk." I told him, but being slightly tipsy would loosen me up later I thought to myself.

"And why not? Do you believe I have never done things that make me feel ashamed afterward?" he asked me

"I know you've done, we all have, but I can't believe you would stoop so low as to get a woman drunk and then take advantage of her. Besides, in my case, you don't even need to do that." I drank the champagne and held out the glass to him again.

"We won't find out, I think you've had too much to drink already. The reason why I would never sleep with a drunken woman is that drunkenness does not make for good sexual partners." He hit the nail on the head, I wouldn't be a good sexual partner drunk or sober.

"I think I will disappoint him, either way, I don't have the talent he has for sex." He had already given me an explosive orgasm just with his tongue and fingers, there were probably few people with his talent to satisfy a woman.

"If you don't have a talent for sex, you can always learn, sex is like any other thing we do can be learned, but if you are drunk you won't be able to learn anything. In fact, if you hadn't been drunk behind the wheel, we wouldn't be here together. Isn't that right?" He was speaking the truth and his words hurt even more because of it.

"You are right, Sir, despite everything you treat me much better than I expected to be treated when I asked you to take me as your slave. I fear I might disappoint you." I have always prided myself on being competent in everything I do, whether it's teaching or taking care of the house, but sex is something that I am not skilled in, and that causes me anxiety.

"Despite everything? It seems like you have some complaints, could you tell me what could be better?" I had spoken too much but decided to say what was bothering me.

"I don't want to be ungrateful, I know that it's within your right to use me as you please, but... I don't understand why you enjoy exposing my naked body to the gaze of others. I feel humiliated and undervalued." I spoke timidly but assertively.

Ha! Ha ha! Thank you for saying that I can use you, my slave, as I please. Now, on a serious note, I always want you to tell me if something is not right. I value you greatly for that, even though I enjoy showing others the slave that I own and the beautiful body you have. You should be proud of your body, that is the first step to being a good sex partner.

He was right, I felt stupid to complain, but I liked knowing that I could always talk to him.

"I understand, I promise to be the best slave that I can be for you. I don't want you to regret saving me from prison or from that horrible woman."

Buzzzz, I felt a strong jolt, my body shuddered violently. I had never experienced such an intense shock before, and I looked at Miguel with fear in my eyes.

"Constança Silveira is not a horrible woman, you are the one who got drunk and killed her son. You were the only horrible person. Never speak of her in such terms again." I...I know, I apologize for the way I spoke, don't punish me anymore...I didn't mean to...Please, Miguel." I braced and waited for another shock or more reprimands, but instead only a smile. Miguel wasn't angry with me, his ability to punish me coldly scared me.

It was true, I deserved to be a slave. I was a killer, spared from harsher punishment only because of my lawyer's skill in convincing Miguel to claim me, and also due to my physical beauty.

"You are forgiven, we won't talk about this again. I think it's time to move on to dessert." Still reeling from the shock, I cleared the remaining food from the table and served the Profiteroles.

"Chantilly or chocolate?" I asked, unable to stop thinking about the quick and brutal way he had punished me for my insolent words. If I hadn't referred to Constança as a horrible woman, I wouldn't have been punished, I can speak freely, but I have to do so respectfully. Miguel was much more than just a polite and elegant man who accepted me as his slave. My fear of disappointing him increased, as did my desire to please him.

"Chocolate nos profiteroles please, Sofia, let us save the whipped cream for later." We ate the profiteroles when we finished, and an awkward moment of silence followed.

"Should I clear the table, Sir?" I asked him, wanting to know if I should clean up the dinner dishes first or if we should go straight to the bedroom for sex. Either way, I would eagerly fulfill my duties.

"Leave the dishes, you will do that tomorrow, now let's make love, bring the whipped cream." He winked at me and smiled, I started to imagine where and how I would use the can of whipped cream.

Before opening the door to the bedroom, Miguel removed his tie and used it to blindfold my eyes. He took a firm hold of my arm and led me inside his room, for the next years it will be our room.

"Now you can uncover your eyes." As I removed the blindfold, I saw that the room was completely dark, only illuminated by a line of five candles placed in a row on the dresser in front of the mirror. One of them emitted a floral scent. The flickering candlelight and aroma gave a magical atmosphere to the room.

"Do you like the surprise?" Yes, I did. It was a pleasant and fitting atmosphere, in other circumstances, it would have been very romantic."

"I like it very much, it is very appropriate, thank you, Sir." I wonder if I should undress alone or ask Miguel to do it as if unwrapping a present, in this case, my body.

"Sofia, you can take off your blouse and then the skirt please." He resolved my dilemma, I lean against the dresser and face him as I unbutton my blouse one by one, starting with the cuffs and then the other buttons, I open my blouse to expose my bra and with a shrug, I make it fall to the ground. Without avoiding Miguel's gaze, I unzip my skirt and it too falls to the floor of the room, the white of my underwear contrasts with the orange light of the candles, with my red hair. The play of light and shadows reveals and hides parts of my body.

"How beautiful you are, Sofia. Turn to face the mirror, I want you to see how beautiful you are. Appreciate your body, it is an order."

I obey, the mirror shows me my oval face, my red lips, my bright blue-green eyes, and my long red hair covering the top of my shoulders. I run my hands over my stomach, which is a bit more round than I would like, but I am not fat. I see that he has positioned himself behind me his hands are on top of mine.