Cheese it is then. Jenn sighed, she wasn't used to having to cook for other slaves. Masters were fine, they told you what they wanted usually pretty exactly. Slaves however were too vague, she didn't know if he wanted brown bread or white, grated or sliced cheese, what type of cheese... So many variables.
Fuck it she thought to herself, as she through a cheese sandwich together. He would just have to deal with it if she got it wrong, it wasn't as if she could be punished for it - and that was half the problem. Jenn never did well without direction and instruction, free-will and thinking for herself had never been something she had been taught. It was beaten out of her at an early stage and so initiative was very difficult for her. Even if it was just a sandwich, it made her feel anxious and uncomfortable.