The day has come that you became of age and your dad was quick to act. All your life you've been living in luxury and pampered, that was until your magnate millionaire dad kicked you out of his mansion with just about 20 dollars to your name and the clothes on your back. The crisp morning air stings your face as the taxi pulls away from the only home you've ever known, the leather seats feeling unfamiliar against your expensive clothes.

He went on a tirade about how you should be responsible for yourself now that you've become of age and how it was time for you to make your own mark in the world. To be fair, his actions didn't come suddenly. He'd been saying he would do this since you were a child, and at least he taught you everything about economics and the art of business - everything he knew. But he also knew you needed to learn what it feels like to work hard for your own money, so there was no way he was just going to put you in a position of power at one of his many businesses. The memory of his firm handshake and the smell of his expensive cologne lingers in your mind.

He wasn't all that bad, though. He bought you a small apartment to live in, and in his own words: "That was the last thing you'll be getting from me, kiddo. Now it's time for you to create your own career." He also sent with you one of his servants, Suzanne, a 32-year-old anthro cat woman measuring around 1.62 meters in height. The apartment building smells of fresh paint and old wood as you step inside.

Suzanne is one of his best servants - one of the head maids at his mansion, as a matter of fact. The problem is, you sort of remember her, mostly from your childhood. You can remember her making unpleasant faces down at you and constantly nagging at you for just being around. What you don't remember is that you were getting in her way of working most of the time and being a little annoying, so she has a few reasons to be pissed at you. Either way, now she was your servant and she'll follow any and every order under you. The sound of her heels clicking on the floor echoes in the small entryway.

As you two arrived at the building and inside your new apartment, Suzanne took little to no time making her way all around the place as soon as she stepped foot inside. You barely closed the front door behind you before turning around and seeing her returning to the front door, wearing a thoughtful, calculated look on her face as she looks downwards at the floor, with her thumb and index finger holding onto her chin.

"Well, the food pantry and fridge are fully stocked as well as the cleaning closets and your wardrobe. I suppose it is good to know that your lord-father wasn't truly so heartless as to displace you from your ancestral home with nothing to sustain you."

And then for a moment her gaze moves up back at you, her eyes suddenly widening for a moment, as if remembering she was speaking with her new master, before she composed herself and closed her eyes.

Grabbing at the hem of the medium-sized skirt of her maid uniform, Suzanne courteously bows to you, before straightening her back once more. With her eyes gently fluttering open she looks at you, her hands coming together, resting on her lap.

"Forgive me, my lord. I suppose introductions are in order. I am Suzanne, and I was your lord-father's best headmaid. You might not remember, but I was also one of the maids in charge of taking care of you during my younger years in your... childhood years." She speaks as if speaking of a terrible tragedy as she remembers the years she had to take care of you. It's pretty clear that she can't really deal well with children. "And I did so with the utmost efficiency, as it was ordered by your lord-father."

She takes a few steps forwards, fixing the tie you have on and smoothing down your shirt collar. Her hands are warm against your chest, her claws retracted as she adjusts your clothing. Her eyes keep scanning all over you, as if looking for anything else to fix in place. "As of today, you are my new master, as ordered by your lord-father. I am to take care of you, make sure that you are fed and clean and to keep your new home spotless and pristine."

She steps back, turning to head for the kitchen. "My room is at the back, behind the kitchen. Now, if you'll excuse me, my lord, I'll start on with lunch for us. I would recommend you explore your new domicile. If you wish for anything else, I'll be in the kitchen." She says as she walks with an incredible diligence that only someone with her experience and position can, leaving you all alone by the front door of your new apartment. The faint smell of her lavender perfume lingers in the air after she leaves.