Mia and her Chancellor 2 - Another Romantic Short

Victory Parade

Mia was prepared. She had eaten dinner, and turned off anything that might have distracted her. Poured herself a glass of fresh orange juice. She had decided to dress nicely—the occasion seemed to warrant it. Nicely, but comfortably, too.

Mia lit a candle.

At times her relationship with Madam Seitz felt like a priestly induction into powerful, occult secrets; a world beyond the mundane, and that Mia first needed to prove her worth to be allowed into the innermost sanctum.

But then, it often felt like the opposite, too; a gentle, but firm reminder that there was more to Mia than her love for Madam Seitz, and that only once Mia sufficiently practiced in being Mia, so that she would not forget being so even when she was Madam Seitz's Mia, would she be allowed to take the next step.

Perhaps it was a bit of both; the Chancellor being her usual cunning self in keeping her motivations close to herself, alternatively pulling and pushing; revealing just enough that Mia would trust in that she knew best.

Mia didn't mind. If Madam Seitz thought she knew what was best for their relationship, then it only was because it was true. Mia was safe with her, she felt that in every fiber of her being, and she didn't envy Madam Seitz for what she was or had and Mia wasn't or didn't have.

After all, her Madam loved her as she was; that too she was sure of. She knew it from every letter, from every video, from every promise made and fulfilled.

And Mia was still the better dancer. She didn't need to be wise or shrewd for that, and least of all did she need to be old. What she needed was supreme skill and confidence in moving her body; and that she had plenty, and planned to acquire even more of.

Mia wasn't greedy. She already had what she wanted: her Madam, her Sally, her dancing.

Now she just wanted, needed more of the same.

She licked dry lips. Took a deep breath.

Then pressed play.

Time for her reward.

Madam Seitz throned in her chair, red vintage leather, as effortlessly alluring as she always appeared to Mia. She didn't even have to do anything. She just sat there, with her knowing little smile, dressed in her unique, sharp style of modern feminine lines, expertly combined with eye catching, classic elements.

Mia waited with bated breath.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then a woman she hadn't seen before walked into the scene. Dressed in comfortable, colorful clothing she walked right to the center of the scene and towards the camera.

"Hello Mia. Nice to meet you. My name is Margret." Her German accent was much more pronounced than that of Chancellor Seitz.

Introduction done, Margret stepped closer to the camera, leaning forward just a little.

Mia eyes widened. That was an impressive pair of breasts, even mostly hidden under clothing.

Margret straightened again, laughing. Then she waved a little and exited the scene.

The next woman walked into the scene, and Mia understood that she was being introduced to the women living with Madam Seitz—that she was being included. She did know some of them. She was fairly sure that this one—

"Hi Mia. It's Jennifer again. Hope you haven't forgotten me."

Mia coughed. Not quite. Yes, she had appeared in one or two of the Chancellor's messages before, just, when there was her Chancellor to pay attention to, she tended to tune out everyone else, and—

"Either way, let me welcome you to the family! I hope we'll one day get to meet in person!" Jennifer winked at the camera. "Also—"

And she lifted her shirt, showing off a pair of perky breasts.

On the side to her, Chancellor Seitz laughed.

Mia stared at the screen.

Then Jennifer laughed too, and flaunced out of the camera's range.

The parade continued. Not all were segments were filmed in the same room—some clearly were cut in from elsewhere. But no matter who it was, no matter how well they spoke English, no matter whether Mia had even heard of them before, they all were warm. Welcoming. Sometimes, faintly amused. Sometimes, playfully seductive. But none rejected her.

Mia took it all in, transfixed.

Then, at last, Madam Seitz stood, prancing closer to the camera. She was magnificent. From the tips of her boots to her tight leather trousers, to the vintage corset peaking through a beautifully cut vest, to the tips of her carefully arranged hair and perfectly applied makeup.

Every damn time she blew Mia's mind with her perfection. And with the knowledge that—

"Mia-mein, my beautiful dancer girl, ich liebe dich." The Chancellor onscreen smiled. Smugly. Knowingly.

—that she was in love with her.

Then Madam Seitz's smile widened. Produced a travel itinerary she held into the camera. "And soon I'll be able to tell you in person."

Mia's jaw dropped. Her pulse sped up. She felt as if she would faint—then her adrenalin got pumping, and she jumped up, and yelled and laughed and ran a circle through her apartment.

Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!

She needed to tell Sally. She needed to scream it to the world. She needed to run up a mountain and yell it to clouds.

Mia took a deep breath.

"I am the luckiest person in the world!"

And if the entire neighborhood knew now, well, who cared?

Despite how good life had lately been, it was looking to be even better in the very future. People deserved to know. Mia deserved to celebrate.

Love. Still the greatest of all possible feelings.