Title: Mocha (1/3)

Author: Mina Robins

Fandom: Sherlock

Pairing: Irene Adler/Kate (Maid)

Rating: G until the last chapter…

The dynamic I have head cannoned for me endlessly entertaining.

As always, please inform me of any grammatical or spelling mistakes. Much obliged.

…..

It is madness when I attempt to schedule Miss. Adler's sessions during the start of September. Whilst the summer heat is on, my lady's clientele consist of playboys and girls, of luxurious displays of men and women trying to childishly lay claim to The Woman with expensive trinkets only the wealthy can afford. They endeavour to mimic the way Miss. Adler has marked their bodies with their cold coin and thus ultimately fail.

I haven't a clue why the rich parents that enjoy Miss. Adler's special talents take the effort to disguise their session time with made-believed business meetings and work appointments. Nonetheless, they take good precaution to hide their wanton hobbies from their offspring. I have been booking a couple for a session for the first day of school for the past three years.

Miss. Adler is booked for dominating affairs with the strange, rich and powerful. The minute the privilege teens are shipped back to boarding school. The spoken for husbands and wives become submissive, yielding to their desires for the crack of my lady's whip.

Mmmmm, she's always meticulously calculating on how much force to use.

It's been a lengthy week since I've last felt Miss. Adler's glorious hands on me. I shamelessly need it. It's a game my mistress likes to play, how long can her perky secretary wait.

Not particular long.

I shift uncomfortably as I suddenly become aware how my black lace panty hose stick irritatingly to my body. I've been forbidden to find release during the times Miss. Adler decides to refrain from touching me. My throat is dry; I gulp as I re-cross my legs, trying to abate the tension. I screw my eyes shut as I try to think back to the last time I had a chance to be with my mistress. A thousand memories surface and I decided to think back to our first union together.

I didn't think Miss. Adler would remember, nonetheless, she did. I never bothered to mention my birthday to my employer. But of course, Miss. Adler had found me out. Each year she takes me somewhere new and glamorous to dine. Almost always out of the country.

I walked into my room to find my traveling suitcase opened and waiting to be filled. Miss Adler is sitting… No, she is perched on the center of my bed; a cigarette holder dangles from her left hand. Her hair is left trailing down her back in a cascading flow of inky velvet ebony.

Her porcelain figure clad in nothing but air.

It's getting hard to breathe.

She taps the cigarette against an ashtray she has placed next to her ivory body. The wispy grey smoke lingers and circles around her. Ghosting over her perfect figure the way I could only dream of doing. It's been over a year since she had the unfortunate luck of being situated near a silently crying red head that had just lost her job.

My last employers had wanted my body and when I refused his offer for a ticket to the mile high club in front of his friends, I was fired on the spot. Not a particularly smart move on his part considering there was still another 2 hours till our flight would reached our designation. And I happened to still have a first class spot directly behind his oafish body.

I had enough dignity to omit not a sound even as the tears ran hotly down my face. I had done nothing wrong, I was a competent worker, and well he could have gone to hell for all I cared. See how he would deal with the rest of his business day without my assistance. While I rubbed angrily at my eyes, sure I had smudged my modest make-up; the blue hued skies held fluffy white clouds that floated in a far too placating manner pass my oval window.

Then Miss. Adler reached over and gripped my hand in hers. Her eyes were kind yet reprimanding. "Cease crying, now, you have a new job to attend to."

And I did. She introduced me to her world, to her talents. But not once since I enter her home did she ever pass that line of an employer and employee. However much I wanted her to make the first move. Disappointingly, she never did. She was always courteous yet teasing. She relied on me to organise the mixed-up folders that were her endless list of callers. I set up a twitter account and a main website for her. The first batch of photos I took by my novice hands just weren't right, they weren't fitting and even though she looked like a goddess in every one of them, I felt that I didn't quite manage to hold the essence of her beauty for others to appreciate. The highly regarded photographer I hired was a close friend and I enviously kept watch as he got to capture Miss. Adler's perfection in ways I couldn't.

And at some point I took it upon myself to put Miss. Adler's wellbeing to the forefront of my mind.

I took care that she would have days off, and diligently screened all potential clients before they ever even got a glimpse of her. Hence, why the one's that really wanted a session now sent letters. Somehow they got word that I was unusually fond of written letters. The address isn't ours and I have to take the extra effort to go down to the local high-end billiards bar to pick up our mail. I find letters interesting because they cause Miss. Adler to grin. She enjoys the fine parchments and expensive ink that is used to pen these letters. So I let it slip that poetic letters worked better than emails, which wasn't always true, since not all should attempt to be poetry writers, but those that try are entertaining to say the least.

I cooked her meals and took care of dry cleaning, which to an extent would be all in the range of a maid and secretary. I learnt to read her perfectly and have her preferred tools trade for each individual client packed and ready before she needed to ask and I think that was what surprised her most.

I watch her now as I audibly gulp. My hands are trembling. I want her so bad; I've wanted her for so long now, it seems almost inappropriate. To be lusting after one's employer in such a way.

She takes a long drag on her cigarette and then extends her free hand to beckon me. "Today, I have a fun little exercise for you."

"Ungf." I smartly replied. God, it wasn't the first time I had seen her in all her glory. But she was on my bed. I don't want to wash that particular duvet forever. I'll just fold it up and keep it somewhere safe. Was I having a dream? Oh please don't end.

"Katherine."

Oh.

She has never said my name like that before. Her voice sounds like melted chocolate, soft and uncommanding. Her presence is my addiction and her voice entices me to lean in closer to her perfect lips.

Instead I feel my legs backing me out of my own room and my hand closing the door in my wake. When I realized I had gone back down the stairs and had situated myself next to the marble kitchen counters. I had wanted to scream in dumb frustration. Instead, I placed my forehead down on the cooling stone and mentally tried to blank out the last 5 minutes of my life. Miss. Adler had been on my bed, and I had walked out of the room like a wide eyed idiot.