"I don't go around calling myself a goddess even though I'd deserve it, which makes me exceptionally humble."

"Very true, flower." Kiss.

Giggle kiss. "Berenike wants to show off how good of a slave she is, speaking of excellence," she murmurs. 

"Is that so? Well, I certainly would like to see her prove herself."

"Our quarters here would be best, I think..."

"Then let's not waste time."

"Of course not." Then, to her slave: "Come along, Berenike." She starts walking, then, out into the broad courtyard between the main cluster of buildings on the estate. It's a beautiful area, full of flowers in full bloom and expertly carved statues, a large arcade sheltering furniture and murals. Seshen leads them across it and into a light, airy room with two chaises. She directs Berenike to stand in the room's center for now, and glances at her fiance. "How do we want to test her, sweetheart?"

She stands obediently, white-tipped tail wagging just a little bit.

"I think that first we should make sure she is still eager to please when under duress. Find her limits and see if we can't push past them."

"Ever the sadist," she teases. "But... Her heart's new. I think we should make her welcome to the world nice and pleasant - so long as she pleases us."

"I won't object to that plan. And she does belong to you, flower, after all."

"She does." Delightedly smug Seshen.

"Am I to participate, or just watch?"

"I'll want to step up the difficulty over time - so if you don't mind, love, I'll have her focus on me first before trying both of us."

"If you like, flower."

"I do." Kiss. "I'll be sure the show is interesting, sweetheart."

Smirk. "It always is, with you."

She laughs. Then, to Berenike: "Now come here, slave."

She does so.

"Strip, pretty girl."

"Yes mistress." Wag wag wag.

This doesn't take long, of course, as she's only wearing two pieces of clothing, a short waistwrap and a ragged open-back shirt.

There's quite a lot of presentation one could squeeze even into a short process, though. Seshen watches hungrily. 

"Is my body to your liking, mistress?" she asks coyly as the fabric flutters to the ground.

"It is, my Berenike," she purrs.

"How would you have me employ it?"