Talking to Mother

My Mother bursts into my room, looking furious at me.

"My Mistress was so kind as to provide you individual living quarters after you turned 18, and this is how you repay that generosity? By throwing things at your door and making a ruckus? Young lady, I raised you better than that," she admonished, wagging her finger at me.

"But Mom I-"

"No buts. Now, come over here and help me examine both the door and the alarm clock for any damages. I hope you realize that if there are any, you will have to take care of the repairs yourself."

"Mom, I'm an adult now, you don't have to boss me around like a kid," I hated how whiny that sounded, but it was true.

"You are not an adult until you are taken in by your Master, and while I admit that you are close to that-"

"Yeah, real close," I muttered, still frustrated from not being able to finish my dream. My mother arches an eyebrow at my tone, and then looked over at my soaked sheets.

"Ooh, now I understand the frustration," she said, amused. She walk over to my bed, took a seat on one of the few dry spots left, and patted beside her. I was torn between not wanting to discuss a raunchy sex dream, well, almost sex dream, with my mother and my desire to have a second pair of eyes comb through my dream and help me find more clues about my Master. My desire to see my Master all the sooner wins out, and I take a seat next to my mother.

"Well...we were kissing, and he was holding me close, and-"

"What was he wearing?" my mother interrupted.

"Clothes...um, does clothing change in a dream? Like could he have starrted off wearing one set of clothing, but then end up in a different set of clothing without actually changing?"

"That can happen when there is a time jump within the dream. For example, when I was a little younger than you are now, I had a dream about my Mistress, in which I was helping her paint this grand painting, and the endeavour took many, many days. There were multiple time jumps in that dream," my mother said.

"Wait, painting? Your mistress can paint? I thought she was just a housewife!?!"

My mother smirked, "She stays in her studio most of the time and has me take care of the housewife stuff. Why do you think she never helps out around the house?"

Honestly, I just thought that she was lazy, but I would never say that out loud. It is incredibly rude to talk bad about someone else's master. Even if my Master is 100 billion times better than theirs. I tried not to think any more rude thoughts about my mother's mistress, so I changed the subject, "You were younger than me when you started having your dreams?"

"Yes, I was actually. I was 18 when I had my first dream, although I was 20 by the time I actually met my Mistress," my mother said.

I paled, "Does that mean that I will have to wait 2 years before I meet my Master?!" 2 years of agony, of unrelenting need, never to be fulfilled!?! How could I survive that!?!

My mother raised a placating hand, "Your dreams are much more vivid and specific than mine were, you will probably have less than a month by now. In fact, I think its time that you go to a distribution centre to make it easier for your master to find you."

Distribution centres are places where Alma go to meet their masters. I have heard that humans refer to them as stores, but that must be some sort of misunderstanding. If my master were to meet me at a distribution centre, he wouldn't buy me. How could he? I already belong to him