Mistress Of Spices Novels & Stories

she gasped, “There must be someone else who wears the same perfume as I do—” Westin raised a brow, “But you said it yourself and I quote ‘the one and only kind in the whole world.’” Priya’s breath became shallow, “M—My maids! Sometimes I share my perfume with my maids—” “But that makes no sense.” Rivena joined the conversation and said, “Even if you are a really, really nice master who shares perfume with your maids, a maid doesn’t have that much money to hire a group of mercenaries. 20 grands of commission f*e? That is more than a maid can earn in a year!”

I'd seen her giggling with another maid on our first day here. Rita, however, was another story. She complained constantly of the way the Northern workers did things. Apparently, spices were not arranged according to color progression in Pillak Towers, and this was supposedly a bad thing. "Could never happen back in Windsmoor Castle, I tell ye, Yer Highness," she'd muttered with haughtiness a few nights ago while washing my hair. "Could never happen." Yesterday, in a desperate attempt to feel useful, I wandered into the kitchens and volunteered to help make bread. This had gone surprisingly well for approximately five minutes. I had been elbow-deep in dough beside three giggling kitchen maid

my mistress said, not moving from where she lay with her head between my legs. “The spy was caught and is held in their dungeon and we haven't even begun phase two of the plan to capture the girl” she said, sounding annoyed. “Another failure, like the rest of you!” She sneered, her glare burning into my skin. She was the physical embodiment of ‘if looks could kill’. “Seems I was wrong to trust you pet” my mistress said, throwing my leg over her shoulder and kissing a trail down my inner thigh to the soft spot between my pussy and thigh.

As a piece of classical music began to play from an old cd player, I went inside. Everything seemed to be from a fantasy. "It appears that he put extra effort into this room," I muttered as I sat in one of the chairs. As soon as I sat in the chair, Luca rang the bell on the table, and servants entered with silver platters. I felt like a queen at this moment. I started eating as soon as the food was placed on the table. The food was delicious. It tasted like nothing else on Earth and tasted like all the spices used in cooking. The spices combined sweet and salty flavors to create a savory combination that would make anyone drool if they had never eaten anything else. “Milady. I'm afraid I hav

I gesture to the items in her arms. She doesn't say anything, instead just places everything in front of her on my desk. I look over the bottles of spices. She has Cayenne powder, Turmeric, and even Cinnamon. "What are you planning on doing with those?" I ask, as my eye shifts upwards to continue watching what she's doing.

It was so intoxicating that I nearly sucked them all. The taste is indescribable— it was sweet divine nectar beyond humans can ever comprehend; it's addictive and pleasurable and I'm craving more. I can hear the scream of the man slowly fading away; I can also feel the hissing of his body until he gradually gets heavier, saka ko lamang siya binitawan nang maramdaman kong napawi na ang uhaw na nararamdaman ko. I feel like I didn't drink much for years. I licked the sides of my lips as I gazed at the man—a dead man lying in front of me with his eyes wide open.

She couldn't stop thinking about Grace's words regarding suspecting Jack having a lover. The fact that Grace had called her a tramp and other kinds of names was getting to her. She closed her eyes and allowed the droplets of water pour on her face as she now got her hands to roam down on her wet hair which now stuck to her back. It didn't matter if she wanted Adam and loved him more than anything, it was still a fact that she was his mistress, his secret lover whom he was hiding from the world.

“What’s the matter? Why are you a bit aggressive today?” She didn’t like that side of him. It was darker. No woman would like bad boys, but if he can bring heaven to her, she’d like to accept it. Stacy never desired to hook up with someone like Zach, her longtime crush since high school, but the temptation couldn’t be resisted. She still gave up with her higher standards, looking down at her past self, breaking the promise she’ll not go near Zach again. Stacy found herself ridiculous, sometimes. She waited for a long time only to be a mistress. She was a fool in love, that only one tap in a shoulder… she sacrificed her body to make love.

' I whispered I didn't notice when I started crying. 'Easy for you to say, I thought this would too but life doesn't go as planned, coming back I was hit with the reality that it was a fling and you were.....' I couldn't let him finish the poisonous words he was spilling, my hand came in contact with his face. 'I was what a mistress?' I laughed at how ironic this was. 'Lo...'

They all made fool out of me one way or the other. “ You are a mistress now are not you? ” She chuckled lightly. What she intended to be a possible joke was salt to my bleeding wounds. Even the word ' Mistress ' always made bile rise in my throat. It was the only word I never wanted to listen now. Facing reality was harsh. “ You knew everything didn't you? ” I asked a question of my own, my eyes roaming around the cafe that was nearly empty. There were just a few people. “ I knew. ” She admitted truthfully and my eyes travelled back to meet her figure. Her posture was slumped and her tone was weak.