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The Maid part
04
I began my day at 6am, showering, cleaning my room, and dressing for
my first day of work. |
I was so nervous I had butterflies, but I knew after
last night that I was ready for anything!
At 7am I started work. It didn't take me long to fall into the normal
swing of things. Cleaning the West Wing was just like cleaning a large
house. It was sorely obvious that Mr. and Mrs. Bemerton did not sleep
together, nor in fact like each other very much, but kept up appearances
for some reason or another. The West Wing was Mrs. Bemerton's area, and
the East Wing was Mr. Bemerton's. |
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I began with the normal chores and before I knew it, it was nearly 9am
and I was to be at the breakfast table for inspection with the others.
We lined up according to seniority, so I was dead last, of course.
Mr. Bemerton walked in first and my breath was taken away. Here was a
man who was at least 60, but he was so devastatingly handsome he made my
heart flip-flop. He had a chiseled face, laugh lines around big, blue
eyes, snow white hair, an athlete's build and, finally, a charming and
disarming smile. He walked down the line politely saying hello to each
servant until he got to me.
When he got to me he paused, introduced himself, and asked me my name.
"Elena Marceau, sir," I said, and bowed my head. "It's lovely to meet
you, Ms. Marceau," he replied. This was so odd, in all of my other jobs,
the master of the house was never so familiar with the servants. But
this was no ordinary house.
Mr. Bemerton took his seat about the time Mrs. Bemerton walked in. She
walked directly to her chair and was about to sit down when Mr. Bemerton
said, "Won't you meet Ms. Marceau, dear?" And he gestured to me.
She walked over to me, looked me up and down, then reached out and
pressed my breasts with the palms of her hands. "I guess YOU picked this
one out," she said to him, and sat back down.
"No dear, I've only just met her this morning." |
"Yeah right," she huffed. I could the see the jealousy
and resentment between them. It was alarming to be at the center of it.
After we were dismissed, I returned to my chores. At nearly 1pm, it was
time for me to enter Mrs. Bemerton's room. I suddenly realized I had a
stain on my uniform and that there was no time to go change. I either
had to be late or show up with a stain. I chose to be on time, and
adjusted my apron so that hopefully the stain would not show.
I arrived and was beckoned by Mrs. Bemerton immediately. "Why is your
apron crooked? Fix it now." I adjusted it and of course the stain became
obvious.
"You know you are already in violation of the rules, Ms. Marceau?"
"Yes, Ma'am." |
"And what do the rules say happens when you break one of them?"
I recited, "Any variation is cause for corrective action or dismissal."
"That's right. And since my husband obviously has a thing for you, I
should let you go right now, but I think I'd rather punish you. Are you
willing to be punished for breaking the rules, or would you rather pack
your things?"
I did not know what the punishment involved, but I also knew that
hesitation was another violation, so I immediately said, "I am willing
to be punished, Ma'am."
"Good." She looked possessed and I was scared. "Come over here and bend
over my knees."
I did so, draping myself over her knees, she was sitting in the middle
of a sofa, so I was supported on either side. I was utterly humiliated,
lying over this woman, my ass in the air.
"Well, I'm feeling generous today, so I am going to use my hand instead
of my riding crop, but you are to receive 20 strokes on each cheek for
your transgression. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Ma'am."To my further humiliation, she pulled my underpants down
to my knees and began paddling my ass, hard and fast. My head jerked up
and I started kicking my feet, but I stayed where I was and just held on
to the sofa cushion. My ass was stinging under her hand, and when she
got to 14 she just stopped and laughed.
"I think you like that, don't you. Let's see." And she reached her hand
between my pussy lips and felt around. I was very wet, because just
before I came to her, I had masturbated but did not climax, in
anticipation of serving her well.
"Well, let's see how you like this," and she started hitting me harder.
She spanked me for 4 or 5 minutes, angrily and vehemently. It stung so
bad that after awhile the air swooshing around her hand would hurt, as
she drew it back. And then the fire of pain would grip me as her hand
came down. Her hand had to be on fire too, but she was an angry woman,
and did not care.
I had had well over 40 strokes - probably more like 150, when she
finally stopped and pushed me off her lap.
"Next time it will be with my riding crop. Now go make my bed."
I did as I was told and finished my chores in the West Wing limping from
the soreness of my behind. I thought, "I must never let that happen
again."
At 4pm I was in Mr. Bemerton's study to help serve tea. Another maid,
Ms. Pearson, was there. I stood nearby while she approached Mr. Bemerton
with the tea cart and began pouring the tea.
"Ms. Marceau, come over here by me." I stood near him and he looked at
me with his twinkling blue eyes. I smiled back at him.
"You look tired, would you like to sit down for a moment?"
I stammered for a moment, not sure how to react to this, when he pulled
me onto his lap.
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"Oh!" I was surprised and happy at the same time, at the
attention he was giving me. He pulled my hips closer to his groin, and
begin running his fingers over the outlines of my nipples, visible
through the thin uniform.
"Ms. Pearson, did you bring ice like I asked?"
"Yes sir," she answered.
"Good. Ms. Marceau, slip your arms out of your uniform and pull it down
past your breasts."
I did so immediately and without question and while I did, he reached
for a piece of ice.
He took the ice between his teeth and began tracing it around my
nipples, making them so hard. My warm flesh melted the ice and it
trickled down between my breasts, tickling me. When the ice was all
melted, he licked the moisture from my breasts and began suckling on my
nipples, one then the other. He pulled me closer, and I could feel his
huge hard-on through his pants.
"Stand up, remove your panties, and bend over the back of that armchair
over there," he said, and pointed to a big, overstuffed chair across the
room. I walked over to it and bent over. I heard him removing his pants
and crossing the room. He saw the marks on my buttocks.
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"Well, how did this happen," he asked.
"Mrs. Bemerton punished me for having a dirty uniform, Sir."
continued in part 5 |
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