Chapter 3 of Lawyer2Maid
As spring replaced winter, I pondered the reality of a full year passing since Jason and Lauren conspired in my devastating demise or my slavery.
The legal divorce between Lauren and me was completed in the final week of March. To celebrate their unity, Jason and Lauren held a romantic dinner for two at their mansion. Clad in one of my maid uniforms, I served them champagne and a delectable beef bourguignon cooked with a rare wine from my former cellar (2010 Chateau Rayas Chateauneuf Du Pape Reserve). While I attentively stood by their table, they ate, canoodled, and discussed their future together. I was not invited to share their marital bed that night.
As they left the dining room, Lauren turned to me and nonchalantly stated, "Exceptional job with dinner tonight, Gregory. As a maid, you surpass your ability as a husband or a father."
"Thank you, mistress," I replied, my eyes welling up with tears, quivering as I curtsied.
Despite my anticipation of an Easter bunny gown, I still engaged in humiliating apparel. Dashing around the kitchen, I conscientiously prepared dinner (glazed ham, grilled asparagus, scalloped potatoes, and deviled eggs) while attempting to preserve my lavender maid's uniform a la Lauren - my bed covered with satin and white petticoats, a matching lavender and white lace choker, sheer black stockings, and 3-inch heels.
Lauren had a propensity for the aesthetic on display when a choker was worn, a symbol of immense ownership and subservience that required no uniform. Consequently, she had acquired several for me to complement my attire. It was an exquisite garment that I abhorred due to the tightness confining my neck, and I fretted about the likelihood of its use during summer considering the oppressive heat of my uniform without air conditioning.
Among Penny, Jason, Amanda, Ryan, and myself, we completed the Easter dinner party. Jason and Penny cozily collaborated at the office, and Lauren and Amanda, Penny's age peer, expressed a fondness for her. Unsurprisingly, I had mused on their potent alliance and the part Penny played in witnessing or participating in my degradation. Instruction arrived in the form of a doorbell, so I charged to answer it.
Adorning a floral dress complemented by stockings, high heels, and white painted nails, Penny presented me with a bottle of champagne to chill.
"Good afternoon, Miss Penny, sir," I said pleasantly, leading them into the sitting room where the others were conversing about their alcoholic beverages. "Please choose a comfortable seat. Shall I provide you with drinks?"
Penny glanced at the bottle of champagne as she directed, "I want white wine."
Upon her command, I curtseyed, "At once, Miss Penny."
Addressing George, still bewildered by the social dynamic, I inquired, "What will you have, sir?"
Appearing uncertain, George, with his nerdy glasses and white V-neck sweater sporting a pink bowtie, tight white pants, and matching silk socks, softly said, "How about some white wine too, please."
As Penny sneered at him, "Don't be so submissive to the maid," his face revealed a mix of confusion and uncertainty regarding my appearance and condition.
Lauren clarified for George, "Penny's right. You should refer to the 'help' as 'Jenkins' because it's his responsibility to serve."
George's timid apology overcame him, "I'm sorry," he meekly stated, glancing at the floor in shame.
Caressing her necklace adorned with a gigantic purple gem, Penny praised, "Such wonderful shoes, Penny! Are they Jimmy Choos?"
At that moment, Penny gleamed, "Yes, they're true!" she exclaimed. George treated her to a dazzling pair of shoes and a dress as an Easter present the previous day at Saks.
"They're simply stunning," Amanda applauded. "The shoes complement your ensemble so well."
Penny appreciatively responded, "Thank you. I adore these shoes though my feet are still hurting a bit. Could you help me with a massage, George?" Penny swiftly hoisted her feet onto George's lap. Once he removed them, he started working on her right foot, shrouded in stockings.
"It's my heels that are the source of most of the pain," Penny mentioned. "To apply proper pressure, I require my feet raised. You might find this more convenient to perform from the floor, sweetheart."
Displaying some hesitance, George turned to me and cautiously looked around, in search of a consensus, before responding, "Of course, my love." He obediently got on his knees and resumed the foot massage. Penny cheerfully settled down, basking in her satisfaction, and a wink was exchanged between her and Amanda.
Originally, I began wondering if I'd be the only one splitting time with Rebecca in the realm of submissiveness.
Undoubtedly, the following time I witnessed the presence of Penny and George was at Lauren and Jason's house during a Memorial Day party. The temperature was sizzling, and the pool cover had been taken off to begin the summer usage. The attendees included us, Forrest and Jane, Samantha from my former work, and, of course, my child and Ryan. Clad in a waitress uniform (classic black and white, but alas, with a choker that matched), I was stationed by the pool, delighting guests with drinks.
Amanda guided Penny and George into the yard, accompanied by a powerfully built young man, just as he removed his t-shirt and revealed his chiseled torso. Penny twirled open her robe, revealing a bikini. I froze in my tracks as I observed George clad in tight, yellow shorts and a t-shirt with the words "CUCK" on it, printed in large pink letters. His usual thick eyeglasses were unchanged. However, a shimmering, studded, pink collar encircled his neck, and he was bright red.
I got a chance to hear the lively dialogue that unraveled after Penny presented Kyle to Lauren, Jason, Amanda, and Ryan.
"Allow me to introduce my current boyfriend, Kyle. Everybody meet him," Penny proclaimed. "George, kindly dash to the pool house to slip into your swimwear."
"Yes, ma'am," George humbly muttered and sprinted towards the pool house.
An enthralling yarn Penny had to share.
Somehow, Penny met Kyle at a club in Central Islip. Kyle is a 20-year-old construction worker with aspirations to become a professional wrestler. They dated on multiple occasions and slept together twice before Penny revealed George's existence to him. Initially, he felt outrage and jealousy, but Penny enlightened him on the existence of various kinds of partnerships that worked for individuals. After some reflection, she was able to convince him that George, who had dropped significant sums on her and offered delightful dinners, might play an essential role in their lives.
"I recounted my experiences with you and your treatment of Jenkins to Kyle," Penny shared. "I expressed to him that there's an array of peculiar relationships that cater to distinct preferences. Additionally, I disclosed that, after witnessing your dominativeness over Jenkins, I experienced an epiphany. Prior to that day at the gym, while observing Jason forcing Jenkins to perform his exercises beneath his guidance in tight, leather jocks, I was considered quite vanilla. Correctly, my sexual encounters were limited to a few whippings and a few uncomplicated handcuff sessions. But ever since that experience, I couldn't let it out of my mind. Samantha guessed I'd shifted my viewpoint. Before that particular instance, I had a fairly standard perspective on sexuality. Nonetheless, as of now, I have something akin to that at home," Penny beamed.
When apprised of Kyle's presence, George was absolutely despondent and beseeched Penny not to leave him. She displayed him a picture of Kyle and definitively made it clear he had no standing.
"I revealed to Georgie that although he was a terrific boyfriend and showered me with lavish gifts and fabulous meals, he failed to ignite my passions in the sack. I deemed him too small and inadequately dominant," Penny recalled with uncertainty, before sarcastically concluding, "Long story short, he broke down and pleaded to stay in my life. He's blissfully optimistic that I'll lose interest in Kyle and return to him."
George timidly stepped out from the pool house and headed back to the table where everyone sat. He was still sporting his shirt and collar but now donned a bright yellow speedo as well. Beneath the nylon material, his chastity cage was glaringly visible.
"Cuck, grab me a beer and get your goddess a glass of wine ASAP," Kyle instructed George. "I'm going to test how rapidly you work with this wonderful Rolex watch I bought you."
Lauren responded, "That isn't essential, darling. That's what Gregory is here for."
Penny suggested, "Let George do it, Lauren. Our partnership is still fresh, and he needs to adapt to submitting to Kyle's authority in public."
Lauren replied, "Of course, dear. Whatever you prefer. Gregory, at least show George where we keep the beer and wine. And refresh our beverages as well."
"Yes, mistress, surely," I responded. "If you'll follow me, sir," I told George.
Once we brought back the drinks, Kyle glanced at George, snapped his fingers, and signaled for him to kneel beside his feet. After handing Kyle his beer and Penny her glass of wine, George got on all fours, with Kyle placing his feet on George's back, using him as a footrest.
Penny chuckled, "Look at that! Aren't you thrilled, Lauren? I owe it all to you two. You've been an inspiration for me."
Jason remarked, "Let's toast to Penny, Kyle, and George." They all raised their glasses and drank, laughing.
Amanda inquired of Kyle, "So, you're really training to become a wrestler?"
Kyle answered, "Yes, ma'am. I am aiming to make my debut on Monday Night RAW this autumn. Meanwhile, I'll be going on tour this summer."
Penny stated, "Kyle is preparing to be a heel. There are the dominants, or heels as they're called, and there are the submissives, or jobbers. They're the ones that usually wear pink tights or pink trunks since they get thrown around the ring by the heels."
Kyle clarified, "Some jobbers begin as wrestlers and then later become heels. I have zero interest in that. I'm working hard, but I'm determined to be a heel from the moment I start, until I retire."
Penny continued, "It's so entertaining! We play a game where Kyle and George wrestle, and the victor gets to have sex with me while the loser has to attend to the winner's cleanliness and tidiness tasks. As if there was any real contest. Sometimes they wrestle naked, but usually Kyle wears his camouflaged trunks while George dons pink jobber tights. I then get to witness Kyle physically abuse him. He tosses him around like a doll. The match concludes when Kyle imposes a humiliating submission hold on George. He often squeezes his testicles until George begs for forgiveness. Then Kyle makes him lick his sweaty feet. Just like how Jason treats Jenkins! Subsequently, Kyle typically spanks George before escorting me to bed. But George gets to watch sometimes, don't you George?"
"Yes, goddess," George muttered from his position beneath Kyle's feet.
"Sex with Kyle is phenomenal," Penny stated, covering her mouth and admitting, "I'm sorry, I might be revealing too much information."
Lauren said, "Not at all, dear. We are very happy for you. And I can relate."
Amanda reacted, "You go, lady!"
Selfishly, I considered the consequences of George and Kyle joining the scene. It was going to be a fascinating summer.
The initial portion of June was consumed preparing for Lauren's and Jason's wedding at the conclusion of the month, as well as Amanda's and Ryan's celebrations two weeks later. Both ceremonies and receptions would occur at the mansion, which had ample space to accommodate guests both indoors and outdoors.
In case you were wondering, I was not selected as a bridesmaid for either ceremony. Instead, I was the former husband/wife and father/mother. Lauren and Amanda employed a dressmaker to manufacture custom uniforms specifically for me to wear during their nuptials. While my uniform ordinarily came down halfway between my mid-thigh and one inch above my knee, Lauren wanted me wearing a longer uniform extending mid-shin: black and white with a matching black and white necklace that enveloped most of my neck. I would be changing into a shorter outfit for serving drinks and hors d'oeuvres at the receptions. Amanda requested a white satin uniform of average length, with black lace undergarments, apron, and collar, as well as a black satin hat with white lace decorations. Paired with seamed, see-through black stockings and 3-inch heels, naturally.
I had quite a discussion about what role I could take on in Amanda's wedding that represented both my position as father of the bride and the family servant. It was decided that while Jason would give her away, I'd be responsible for holding the train of Amanda's long wedding dress as she walked down the aisle with him. This task is usually done by the maid of honor, but this choice allowed me to join in the ceremony while emphasizing my position as the servant. Amanda stepped onto the altar, and I curtsied to her and Ryan, then curtsied deeply to Lauren and Jason, followed by curtsying to Ryan's parents, and finally to everyone gathered.
Lauren was very dedicated to making everything perfect for her and Jason's wedding. In the days leading up to it, I was kept extremely busy, cleaning every last inch in the mansion - from mowing the lawn, trimming the hedges, weeding the garden, to washing and detailing Jason's, Amanda's cars, Lauren's Mercedes, and my own "eyesore" Subaru in the garage.
There were many embarrassing moments throughout those two monumental events. Here are a few memorable ones:
When Helen, Lauren's mother and a proud feminist, arrived from the airport. She was around 63 years old, and she'd never accepted our union, believing that I was way too young for her daughter. She didn't approve of me at all, thinking I was dominating and arrogant. She saw me in my maid uniform curtsying at the door and said, "Gregory, Lauren and Nicole told me about your change, I expected it to be a lie, but I needed to experience it myself. I'm still not entirely convinced."
Receiving five strokes of the cane from Jason and Ryan, with Lauren and Helen watching, for smudges left on their sterling silverware I hadn't polished well enough.
Giving pedicures to the three generations of Helen, Lauren, and Amanda. I was doing this while they watched Barbie in the home theater.
Caddying for Jason's father in my schoolboy uniform in a foursome that included Jason, his 24-year-old brother, and Paulo. Jason's father remarked, "Son, when you told me how much you've suffered at the hands of that jerk you used to work for, I told you to just walk away and not put up with it. It seems like it all paid off in the end."
Being perched over the kitchen counter, receiving six smacks with a wooden spoon on my bottom by my niece Olivia after misplacing the braised short ribs on the wrong end of the buffet table at Lauren's and Jason's reception.
Giving pedicures with extended foot massages to Amanda and her eight bridesmaids at the same time, followed by shining the shoes of Ryan and his eight groomsmen (they were still wearing them an hour before the ceremony). Besides Olivia, Mia, Isabella, Jason's brother, and Paolo, the wedding party consisted mainly of Amanda's and Ryan's sorority sisters and fraternity brothers from Dartmouth, who enjoyed this unconventional event.
I was photographed in front of all the guests at both weddings. The same wedding photographer was used for both ceremonies. I was only included in three pictures — one where I knelt before the bride and groom in a deep curtsy position, another where I stood attentively beside them, holding a tray of two glasses of champagne, and the third where I was on my knees beside the newlyweds, with one of them resting their hand on my head.
As Amanda and Jason danced during their father-daughter dance, I held the train of her dress; at one point, I stumbled wearing my heels and fell briefly, creating a humorous moment.
Receiving "six of the best" (spankings) from Ryan in front of all drunk and carousing wedding party members (except for Olivia and Isabella), after I spilled onion dip on Mia at the party held at a beach house Amanda and Ryan had rented. I was punished further by kneeling next to the elated newlyweds, my erect penis clearly visible through my punishment tights.
This was a surreal time in my life, especially during those two big events. A truly unforgettable experience.
The day following their wedding, Amanda and Ryan prepared for a ten-day honeymoon trip to the Greek Islands. Lauren and Jason, due to Jason's work obligations, decided to postpone their honeymoon until the second of August, planning for a two-week excursion to the Amalfi coast.
During this time, I continued with my daily routines and responsibilities. This included biweekly cleanings at my former law firm, frequent proofreading tasks, maintaining cleanliness around Forrest and Jane's house, and carrying out day-to-day duties at the mansion. Over these months, my culinary abilities improved, as well as my proofreading skills which led to fewer penalties from Jane. However, punishments still occurred, albeit less than before.
A series of large parties planned for the summer were set for August, organized by my daughter and her husband, a partnership between them and Paulo and Shyla. These celebrations made selecting a suitable employment start date for the newly graduated couple difficult.
The week after Amanda and Ryan's nuptials, I embarked on a seven-day stint of indentured servitude to Ethan, which served as the final part of the delayed punishment consequent upon my misconduct on Thanksgiving Day. My trip by bus instead of the unreliable Subaru arrived at the Port Authority Bus Terminal on Friday morning. Lauren graciously packed my carry-on luggage comprising of a maid uniform, flat shoes, short jeans, a pink speedo, two custom-made T-shirts, spandex yoga pants, flip-flops, three packs of mesh panties, white knee socks, a water bottle, sunscreen, and my toiletry bag. In addition, I carried a leather tawse and a sealed envelope containing the key to my chastity device. Bill and Nicole had requested I be chained, but Bill agreed to unlock it during cleaning processes.
To read throughout my journey, I packed the novel "Hangover Square" by Patrick Hamilton. This book described an alcoholic individual who fell obsessively in love with a superficial young actress, who teased and manipulated him while he watched her flirt with and pursue other men. Contextually, it was set in pre-World War II London, a time when facism was on the rise - some might view it as the ideal story for our current era.
My clothes during the trip consisted of a pair of shorts, another T-shirt, and old sneakers. To pass the time during my journey, I brought with me the novel "Hangover Square," as Lauren had recommended. The story chronicles an alcoholic ladykiller who becomes irrevocably enamored with a shallow, young actress who shamelessly torments him as she flirts with and pursues other men in front of his eyes. The plot was set in pre-World War II London; a time when fascism was on the rise - some could even label it a story tailor-made for our current times.
I encountered some significant stares on the bus.
At a rest stop in southern New Jersey, a bearded fifty-year-old man exited a bathroom stall and stared at my shirt, grinning sadistically. He emphasized, "I could easily imagine something, princess."
Lauren provided me with taxi fare to reach Bill and Nicole's house in a rural suburb, about twenty miles from the bus station in Downtown Richmond. Nicole greeted me at the door.
"Hello, Gregory. Welcome to our home. I understand it's not as large or luxurious as what you're accustomed to. Let me show you to where you'll be sleeping."
She guided me to the basement, offering a small half-bathroom and a cot: "You appear quite weary after your journey. Why not rest for half an hour? Then, proceed to alter into your work attire and tidy up the house. It's a complete mess."
As anticipated, the condition of the house was unfortunate. I tidied up the kitchen as Isabella returned with her friend, a curvaceous 18-year-old girl named Luanne. They both greeted me warmly, and upon sighting my maid's uniform, they burst into fits of laughter.
Isabella teased, "Greetings, uncle Greg. I mean, uncle maid."
I curtsied. "Hail, Miss Isabella. What a pleasure to meet you, Miss Luanne."
A couple of minutes later, the rambunctious voice of Ethan echoed through the hallway. "I'm back! Has my new hired help arrived?" I gulped.
Following a three-hour cleaning stint, I took a much-needed break to prepare dinner. While rummaging through one of Nicole's cookbooks, I concocted what I thought was a decent meatloaf. Bill had returned from work by this point, and Luanne was staying over. As everyone dug in, I stood dutifully by the table in my maid outfit, ready to refresh drinks and offer second servings.
Isabella inquired, "Why is the maid not wearing heels? And isn't it standard for maids to be wearing more attractive stockings? Doesn't Aunt Lauren think we're deserving of a properly outfitted maid?"
Nicole responded, "Your ex-uncle... well, former uncle... is supposed to be working here in uniform. Although, I must agree with you - it would've been considerate to pack heels for him. But don't fret, honey. I'll check with Lauren and purchase heels and stockings in his size from Walmart tomorrow."
"Great idea, Mom. Bring me another Coke, maid," Isabella commanded.
"At your service, Miss Isabella," I curtseyed, garnering giggles from Isabella and Luanne, and an egregious sneer from Ethan.
Remaining in the house for another three hours after dinner, I thoroughly cleaned it before Ethan approached me and stated, "You might want to think about finishing up the cleaning for another day. Your job starts tomorrow at six in the morning sharp, and you'll want plenty of rest before then. It's going to be draining." He added maliciously, "Now that insufferable brat is the one in charge, I guess."
"Yes, sir, Master Ethan," I responded with a deep curtsey, hoping the cunning display of submission might sway him to show me some minor leniency in the coming week.
Having sacked out in my yoga pants and a T-shirt, the basement's lack of air-conditioning ensured it was hot and sweaty. Although I considered removing my panties, the thought of being seen in such a situation by either Ethan or Isabella forced me to remain cautious. I had hopes that my impending spanking might be averted, and therefore exercised prudence. Adversely affecting my ability to sleep, I attempted to read a couple of chapters of my book, but the low lighting made it hard to discern the text even with my recently acquired high-powered reading glasses. The small alarm clock Nicole had provided me with was set for 5 AM.
Awaking the next day in a far-from-rested state, I dressed in cut-offs, my "Servant" T-shirt, and my sneakers. The majority of my chastity cage was prominently displayed beneath the tight shorts, rendering my attire potentially noticeable. Coating myself in sunscreen and filling up my water bottle, I grabbed a banana and an apple from the counter bowls and met Ethan beside his pickup truck. He had inherited Bill's old Ford truck following his 18th birthday in January. Over the previous summer, the determined teenager had established a successful lawn care enterprise. He had two of his senior class buddies employed, and, of course, now me as well. Ethan instructed me to fetch the push mower and hedge trimmers from the garage and load them into the truck. Ethan steered, while I sat in the truck's bed with the tools.
Ethan maneuvered into the driveway of a sprawling ranch-style residence on a considerable plot of land, which sheltered a sizeable backyard with a herd of cows grazing behind it. Emanating from Ethan's words - and their rural location - there were no complications with mowing the expansive grass early in the morning.
Ethan directed me to commence mowing the expansive yard, while he wrangled with the hedge trimmers along the edges. At seven, a car slid into the driveway, disgorging two lads about Ethan's age. Tommy and Reece, colleagues of Ethan on his football team, emerged. Both were high school seniors. It quickly became apparent there was a distinct hierarchy among the three, with Ethan at the helm and Tommy at the bottom. Nevertheless, Ethan made it explicit in our introductions that I was to follow orders from both boys and refer to them as "sir."
Around 10 AM, a woman came out of her house, holding a pitcher of lemonade. She was about 45 years old and had a face weathered by time but still attractive. Her figure was good, and she was dressed in shorts and a bikini top. I was soaked in sweat and desperately thirsty, so I didn't hesitate to approach her for some lemonade.
"Who's your new worker, Ethan?" she asked with a casual tone.
Ethan replied, "Hi, Mrs. Rice. Thanks for the lemonade. This is my uncle Greg."
Mrs. Rice examined me, focusing on my t-shirt and shorts, and chuckled, "Uncle, huh? He looks more like your servant to me."
"Well, technically, he's not my uncle anymore. Let's just say he did something he wasn't supposed to do, and my aunt sent him down here from New York to work for me as his punishment."
"Oh, that's interesting," she responded.
I had finished my cup of lemonade by then, and Ethan told me, "Get back to work, boy." Mrs. Rice chuckled again.
I replied, "Yes, sir. Thank you, ma'am, for the lemonade. I'll be on my way." I went back to mowing the lawn. Ethan instructed Reece to trim the hedges and ordered Tommy to weed the vegetable garden. For the next half hour or so, Ethan chatted with Mrs. Rice while the workers labored in the hot Virginia sun, occasionally looking in my direction and laughing.
For lunch, we drove to Chick-fil-A. I had never been there before and was extremely surprised by Ethan's recommendation. He and his friends ate chicken sandwiches and fries, while I had a grilled chicken nuggets and a fruit cup that Ethan had ordered for me.
On to our next customer.
Thankfully, the lawn of the next house was smaller than the first, although still quite large. Ethan and Reece were responsible for mowing and trimming the front yard, while I worked under Tommy's supervision in the backyard. Tommy used a weed whacker to clean up the area and told me to collect the dog poop scattered around. The dog owners allowed their three large dogs to defecate freely in the yard, resulting in a multitude of piles of different sizes and consistencies. To make it worse, one of the dogs, which appeared to have some pitbull in it, growled at me before being called inside the house.
From watching the trio interact, it was clear that Tommy was often ridiculed and mistreated by the other two. He also received the less enjoyable tasks when it came to tending to the customers' yards. Therefore, I believe he relished the opportunity to command someone for a change. He mimicked Ethan as he spoke to me.
"Boy, after you pick up all that dog crap, you need to weed that vegetable garden. There are gloves in the back of Ethan's truck."
"Yes, sir," I responded.
Two blond, twin girls lazed in the sun on the patio. They appeared to be around the same age as Ethan, Reece, and Tommy but came across as sheltered and inexperienced. I learned later that they had been homeschooled and rarely left their small, rural community.
One of them questioned, "Are you his servant, mister? That's what your shirt says."
Tommy responded, pretending to be my boss, "I'm his boss, and he needs to do what he's told. Otherwise, he'll get punished."
The other girl inquired, "How do you punish him?"
Tommy lied and said, "My buddy, Ethan, has a switch and smacks him on his behind. I do it too sometimes," reveling in the attention from the two twins. Ethan had told Tommy and Reece about the switch he used to spank me while cleaning his father's truck the day after Thanksgiving.
One of them requested, "Can we watch?"
Just then, Ethan arrived in the backyard, and it was around 2 PM. With the heat unbearable, Ethan put on mirrored-lens sunglasses, resembling a highway patrol officer.
He asked, "What's going on here? Why are you all talking when you should be working?"
Tommy continued with the weed whacking while I quickly knelt down to uproot pesky weeds in the garden.
Ethan teased, "Guess I need to keep an eye on my team for a bit." He sat in a chair with a patio and pulled out a pocket knife to whittle a tree branch.
One of the girls questioned, "How come you're in charge when you're younger than him?"
Ethan answered, "It's not about age. Some men are born to lead, destined to be in control. I may only be 18, but I'm a born leader. Others, like him, are designed to be followers and serve the leaders. And he's not really a man; he's more like a female."
"Isn't that sexist though?" she asked.
"Not at all," Ethan replied. "People like him are meant to follow and serve women too."
Soon after, Ethan approached me while I was taking care of the weeds. He pointed his whittled stick at different weeds and said, "You missed that one, kid. Pull it out, now."
I remembered the feeling of being on a chain gang, with him as the warden and me as a prisoner.
Again, he tapped his stick against his shoes and ordered, "Wait. Clean my shoes with your handkerchief." Then, the girls watched, intrigued, as he winked at them. They traded glances, possibly envisioning a future as cuckoldresses, learning about the rules of dominance by witnessing a superior male discipline a submissive one. Occasionally, he struck my top leg with the stick and caused my cock to harden in its cage.
After 20 minutes of whittling, he returned to look at my work. He paid me $25 each and kept the rest, then drove me home.
When we arrived, I bathed and rested on my cot for an hour. I got up when the timer buzzed, dressed in the given heels and pantyhose, and resumed cleaning the rooms (now including my own and Ethan's). It was astounding how messy this family could be in just one day.
I cleaned for two hours, washing up in the basement before going upstairs to prepare dinner (fried chicken and biscuits, both new recipes for me). The family didn't seem eager to eat, with Bill criticizing my chicken and the biscuits being too dry: "We could've gotten KFC instead."
Ethan chimed in, "The biscuits crumble apart easily."
To ease the tension, Isabella commented, "At least, the maid looks better in the heels and new stockings mom bought."
In actuality, the heels hurt my feet.
"How did the new guy perform today, son?" inquired Bill.
Ethan responded, "He did alright this morning but got lazy in the afternoon while weeding the Henderson's garden."
I reluctantly admitted defeat, not wanting to argue or create conflict. It was almost a daily struggle for me whether to voice my sincere complaints or live with the consequences - usually both. Today, like most times, I opted for the latter. [END](When Tommy went back to trimming with a weed-whacker, I quickly got down on my knees and started weeding the garden. Ethan said he needed to keep an eye on his employees, then sat in a chair and began carving a branch with his pocket knife. One of the girls asked why Ethan, younger than him, was in charge. Ethan said that it wasn't about age. True leaders are born and meant to be in control, while followers are natural and intended to serve them. It's almost like certain men aren't "real" men but more like women.
She remarked it was sexist. He replied it wasn't because people like Ethan, as a follower and servant, were meant to serve women too.
Twenty minutes of whittling passed and Ethan inspected my work. He pointed to specific weeds and ordered me to pull them up, giving me the same feeling as being on a chain gang with him being a cruel warden.
After finishing, he took a break, put away $25 each from his workers, and kept the rest. Later, he brought me home and ordered me to shower and rest for an hour. When I woke up, I dressed in the provided heels and stockings and continued cleaning the house. My cleaning was thoroughly inspected since it was not satisfactory, and they suggested I try preparing dinner.
At this point, we ate a new dish: fried chicken and biscuits. Bill complained it was dry and crumbled, suggesting KFC was better. Ethan added that the biscuits were undercooked. But Isabella calmed the situation down by mentioning how great I looked in my new shoes and stockings. With my feet hurting surprisingly much, I could barely function.
Bill asked about my performance, and Ethan replied that I did well the morning but relaxed in the Henderson's garden. Even though I had put more effort, it still wasn't enough to impress.)
After finishing another piece of poultry, Ethan discarded the drumstick and stated, "Impossible to swallow this rubbish. I'm driving to KFC. What do you desire?"
Frustrated, Bill said, "Unfortunate that this poultry went to waste, and now we must purchase dinner. If you had been compensating him, I'd recommend subtracting it from his wages, Ethan." Bill cracked a joke about it. "What's your excuse?" Bill inquired, directly addressing me.
I executed a profound curtsy and said, "Apologies, Mr. Bill. This is my initial time preparing these recipes. I attempted to follow them closely. I didn't sleep well last night, perhaps I neglected something?"
Bill retorted, "I'm tired of your flimsy justifications. You were always a food connoisseur. Recall your past derogatory remarks about our southern food habits. You probably think it unworthy of your refined taste. You'll be cooking for us for the next five evenings. Chicken again the day following tomorrow, and I'll offer you incentives later in the evening in the living room to improve your performance."
"Yes, sir. Appreciate it, sir."
Ethan requested, "May I offer some inspiration to ensure he remains vigilant during his employment?"
"Effective idea," said Bill. "All of us will gather in the living room at 8 PM."
Once Ethan brought back the KFC bucket of poultry, I presented it to the foursome on clean plates.
While they consumed their food, Ethan declared, "Revelation today for expanding my enterprise. During our backyard cleanup, the maid could clean our clients' homes. None of my rivals provide maid services."
Bill said, "Not a bad notion, son. Let me whisper, sweetheart, this child demonstrates business acumen."
"Not completely convinced," Nicole retorted. "Ethan, this is not the Hamptons. A lot of conservatively-minded people down here wouldn't approve of a man donning a maid's costume."
"Mrs. Rice would not be troubled," said Ethan. "In reality, she assisted me in formulating this scheme. She guaranteed many others would also accept it."
Nicole said, "You should maintain a thorough screening procedure. It could work, I suppose. I'll converse with Aunt Lauren regarding sending him to you for two weeks next summer. Your enterprise will be more prominent by then."
Ethan shot me a triumphant glance.
Isabella stated, "Not reasonable. Ethan secures the maid for all his services. What's my share?"
"What did you consider, gorgeous?" Nicole inquired.
"I'd like to have Luanne and Cindy over on Thursday. The maid could serve us lunch and then administer pedicures. Amanda's father informed me he's proficient at them."
"All right, darling. I'm confident Luanne's parents would be agreeable, but ensure Cindy's parents have no issues with it. If you require guidance, I'll contact Cindy's mother."
"I appreciate it, Mom. Cindy's parents are open-minded, so I don't foresee any challenges. Thanks."
Following the washing of the cups and plates, I continued cleaning Isabella's room. At 8 PM, Bill instructed me to join the family room, where they were already seated, and directing me to position myself across the coffee table. After hoisting my dress, he ran the tawse against my panty-clad derrière before applying five severe whacks.
"I recommend investigating the cookbook tonight. Ethan, time for you."
Handing the tawse to his son, Ethan positioned it against my bottom. I prepared myself for the initial strike, but he kept me waiting for approximately 45 seconds before striking me unexpectedly and violently. When he completed, he stated, "No laziness tomorrow, or endure more hardships. Is this understood?"
"Yes, sir. Absolutely. Understood," I answered, bowing deeply and wiping the tears from my vision using my forearm.
Bill instructed me to stand in the corner for 45 minutes, with my hands clasped behind my head, as the family entertained themselves in front of the TV. As I waited, I could hear laughter coming from Isabella and Ethan. Over time, my arousal became increasingly uncomfortable in the locked device. When bedtime came, I shyly sought Bill's help in unlocking and cleaning myself, a task that left me with a lot of shame. I was mortified to have him tamper with the device, even more so when my hardening member betrayed my embarrassment. After a brief cleaning, I had to use a cold washcloth to get it soft again before Bill locked me back up.
In the evening, I requested a flashlight to read the cookbook but fell asleep before doing so.
Upon meeting Ethan and getting in his truck the following morning, he asked me to put on my socks and wear them at all times while working. This confirmed my suspicion about who had rummaged through my luggage. Once I was back, he announced," Hike up your socks all the way to your knees and keep them there."
I initially believed we'd be working in a hazardous area and these socks were a form of protection. However, when I saw Ethan, Tommy, and Reece wearing the same knee-high cotton socks as they had the day before, I realized their motive was to further belittle me. The combination of the tacky ankle socks and the shorts covering my hairless legs caused quite a commotion at the work site.
That morning, I was under Reece's guidance while we cleaned stalls for a richer family than the previous one. As we worked, Ethan mowed the massive lawn while Tommy trimmed tree branches. Reece had me shovel horse excrement out of the stalls while commanding me on the details of cleaning and disposing of the waste. When the raven-haired daughter, who was getting ready to ride her horse, approached, Reece ordered me to bow and follow his instructions. She gave me the boot polishing to do while Reece demonstrated how to clean her saddles and bridles.
As she resumed riding, Reece asked her, "Can our boy also polish your riding boots and clean your saddles and bridles?"
"He's a city man, ma'am," Reece said. "I'm sure he'll polish your boots, but I'll need to show him how to do the saddles."
"I'll be returning from my ride in about an hour," she replied, departing with a smirk on her face.
By the time she was back, Ethan joined us as well. The three of them chatted flirtatiously with the girl while I knelt before her feet, polishing her now shiny boots. Reece intervened by cleaning her saddles using the same method his sister-in-law had taught him.
Later, the girl, named Melissa, asked Ethan if their worker could do more than just shovel. He noted that I would be leaving on Friday but he might be able to arrange work for me next summer depending on her approval.
Melissa gestured towards my crotch and inquired about the large thing underneath my shorts.
Ethan chuckled as he replied, "It's a chastity device. His male organ has to be locked until someone giving him permission removes it."
Melissa chuckled and responded, "That would make him a more enticing candidate for our stableboy next summer."
The remaining days were similar, with the exception of Thursday, the day ahead of my return to New York. Nicole and Bill were running errands in Richmond, implying that I would be on my own with Ethan, Isabella and their friends for the greater part of the day. I'm wearing my uniform in the morning and give pedicures to Isabella, Luanne, and Cindy, the school's cheerleading captain. She's a pretty, snobby blonde who treats a sixty-one-year-old guy in a maid's uniform as if he's merely an ordinary toenail painter. She carelessly puts her recently pedicured foot on my forehead to evaluate my work.
The girls desired me to blow their nails dry. Ethan, Reese, and Tommy had a football game earlier, thus they arrived in their uniforms and cleats. I had just provided lunch to the girls, who were lounging around the pool in the backyard. The three boys plopped next to the girls. They ordered me to provide them with sandwiches as well.
Ethan then requested a foot massage. He and Cindy had a strong fondness for each other, and she seemed to shamelessly enjoy it when he placed his sweat-drenched, nylon-covered foot over my face while I massaged his other foot. My hard-on was causing me anguish to be cramped in the inflexible fabric.
At the end of the foot massages for Reece and Tommy, Ethan commanded me to alter into my pink speedo and clean his pickup truck while his pals watched. Once I was done, he ordered me to anoint myself with the sponge I'd used to cleanse his truck. Then he jettisoned me with a garden hose as his friends laughed hysterically, aiming the nozzle at my speedos' metal portion.
Fortunately, the next morning, my second attempt at cooking fried chicken and biscuits passed with flying colors.
Amanda and Ryan came back from their honeymoon a few days before I returned to Virginia. Once I provided them with supper during the night of my return, Amanda prompted me to showcase the evil eye fashion tights she'd purchased as a gift in Mykonos for my upcoming birthday (worn with my "Amanda's Puppet" T-shirt) while they merrily sipped after-dinner drinks.
Lauren said to Amanda, "It appears that you two had a terrific trip! Nicole must've informed me that your father had a refreshing time in Virginia as well. Gregory, it's great that your bond with Ethan and Isabella is intensifying despite the fact that technically, you're no longer their uncle. Apparently, they relished your presence so much that Nicole and I have scheduled for you to visit for two weeks the following year. Isn't that fantastic news?"
"Yes, my lady," I answered with a low bow, although other words could've described my sentiments.
"Gregory, I've been pondering. 'My lady' makes it appear as if I'm your lover, which I'm not. Now that we're no longer married, I feel it's more suitable if you refer to me as 'madam' from now on. Do you grasp this?"
After a low bow, I replied, "Yes, Madam, as you desire."
"Gregory, let me tell you what I've been thinking. 'My lady' indicates that I'm your lover, which I'm definitely not. Since we're no longer wed, it's more proper that you now refer to me as 'Madam' rather than 'mistress,' don't you think?"
I responded with a low bow, "Yes, Madam, as you wish."
"Sir Jason, would you rather be addressed as 'Lord' or 'your grace,' servant?" he asked.
"No, Master Jason, since you're still my superior, continue to use 'master' or 'sir,'" he stated, pointing at Ryan.
"Yes, sir." I paid homage.
Amanda inquired, "Now that I'm wed, is it suitable for father to still call me 'Miss Amanda'?"
Ryan clarified, "Daughter, 'Miss' is another term for 'mistress.'"
"In that case, I suppose it's okay that you retain using the term 'Miss Amanda,' daddy."
"Yes, Miss Amanda," I bowed.
Ryan stated, "However, I anticipate you to refer to me as 'My lord,' or 'Your Grace,' slave."
"Yes, Your Grace," I bowed respectfully.
Despite all the formal humiliation, I was very relieved to be back in my home. I was even happy to be back in my high-quality heels and stockings (I had become only that).
A few days later, we gathered to celebrate my birthday. Lauren and Amanda even prepared a cake (I got a generous slice). What made the night even more special was that, for the first time since beginning my life of servitude and humility, I was allowed to drink wine; it may have been cheap red table wine, but after a year without a drop, it was like sipping on a vintage bottle of 1945 Chateau Mouton-Rothschild. After opening my presents (a lockable corset from Lauren, a Japanese film called Moonlight Whispers from Jason, and a leather o-ring posture collar from Amanda and Ryan), I received 62 spanks (31 each on my tights-covered bottom from my two masters). Although it wasn't as hard as a punishment spanking, the birthday spanking still wasn't an enjoyable experience.
We then watched Moonlight Whispers, with me lying at the feet of my four owners. The movie was both unsettling and romantic, depicting two young students falling in love. The girl manipulated the boy using his submissive fetishes, including making him listen to her having sex with another man and then forcing him to lick the sweat of her lover off her legs.
Later that night, I was invited to spend some time in Lauren and Jason's room. I was granted permission to climax, a birthday present - instead of my typical routine of humping Jason's shoe and licking his feet, they mixed things up this time. Lauren wore black thigh-high stockings, ankle boots, and a black bodice. With Jason's large soles on my face, she kicked my cock through my tights, walking a fine line between teasing and causing pain. Eventually, she pressed her boot down firmly on my cock, allowing me to thrust against it. In this state of deep subspace, I ejaculated with an intensity not felt since the garden party the previous summer. Once I had cleaned up the mess on their boots and the floor, I was permitted to clean myself up and change into a new pair of tights.
Jason then instructed me to make him hard. As they had sex, I lay beneath them and licked his balls, which brought me back to full hardness as well.
"Jenkins, it's been over a year since I took Lauren from you. You've lost your job, your fortune, your power, your independence, your dignity. Your daughter, who once feared you, now treats you as her property. Suck on my big toe like it's the last thing you'll ever do. Who knows, it might be," he said, giving my ass three hard slaps with his riding crop.
I was startled by his question and honestly afraid. "To be honest, sir, I'm not sure. Could I have some time to consider it?"
Although hypothetical, the question wasn't easy for me to answer.
"You have two weeks to make up your mind, while we're on our honeymoon. Then I expect your response."
After their departure for Italy, I was left under the care of my daughter and son-in-law once more.
The following Saturday afternoon, I stood at attention in my servant uniform next to Rebecca, both of us dressed the same way, on the large patio of Shyla's parents' elaborate estate. The ocean breeze blowing against my stockings was a welcome relief from the 93-degree heat.
To our right, there were approximately 20 young adults in their twenties; they were either recent college graduates like Amanda, Ryan, Paolo, and Shyla, or those still in college, most belonging to the specific sororities and fraternities of the former. Rebecca was not part of the recent graduates due to her poor grades during her final year at Brown. To our left was Shyla's younger sister, Kyla, presiding over 15 or so of her friends, who were all wealthy, good-looking, and about to attend college. The exception was Rebecca and me, dressed in our uniforms.
Rebecca's role was to cater to Kyla and her group, while I looked after the college friends of Amanda, Ryan, Paolo, and Shyla. It was understood that either of us would help the other if needed. Despite my larger group, Rebecca possibly faced more challenges. The young guests, particularly Kyla, kept her busy. This young woman, knowing the appeal of a 22-year-old girl in a seductive French maid costume, was demonstrating her dominance over her sister's aid in ways that the average wealthy teenager might not experience with domestic help. From my vantage point, I could only witness a glimpse of what Rebecca had to endure, but it wasn't a good sign.
Kyla, a beautiful girl who looked like a younger version of Shyla (if that was even possible), wore a light blue bikini and a tiara. Seated next to her on a deck chair shaped like a throne was her boyfriend, Alaric, a handsome, athletic-looking guy with sandy hair. After instructing Rebecca to bring two fresh pitchers of Arnold Palmers for the guests seated near her, Kyla declared, "Becky, I don't think you've met my new boyfriend, Alaric, before. Curtsy to him and offer him an Arnold Palmer."
"Yes, princess." Rebecca followed orders.
"Do you know what Alaric means, Becky?"
"No, princess."
"It means ruler, genius. That means, your ruler. Since I am your princess, you will address Alaric as 'prince' or 'Prince Alaric', Becky."
Rebecca couldn't resist replying, "Aren't you being a bit redundant, princess?", which led to chuckles from certain young men nearby.
Kyla was furious with Rebecca for stealing her limelight.
"How dare you, serf? My sister will hear about this."
"I'm very sorry, Princess Kyra and Prince Alaric," replied Rebecca, performing a deep curtsy. "I was merely joking. Please don't tell Sister Shyla."
"Peons don't tell jokes. Grab my feet and massage them. All of us. If you do a good job, I may choose to ignore your insubordination. Start with Prince Alaric, then me, and then work clockwise."
"Yes, princess. Thank you for granting me another chance, princess."
Rebecca promptly approached Alaric, knelt down in front of him, removed his sandal, and kissed the bottom of his foot as instructed. Her actions prompted some snickering from his classmates. Alaric, however, maintained an expressionless face, only looking down at Rebecca with an arrogant stare while she massaged his soles. Rebecca spent about ten minutes on each pair of feet before Kyla told her to move on to the next. I oversaw the service of fresh drinks and snacks for their friends. Although they showed me a few long stares and giggles, their reactions were hardly unexpected---after all, we were just doing our jobs. They treated us like we were used to it, as if butlers and maids were waiting on them daily, which perhaps we were.
As Rebecca and I prepared food in the kitchen, she lashed out at me, "I despise Kyla even more than Shyla. And can you believe that conceited twat, Alaric? I'll never forgive Paolo for putting me in this role!"
"Won't you be spending much more time with them if you accept Shyla's job offer, Miss Rebecca?" I inquired.
Rebecca informed me that Shyla had given her a promising opportunity to work as a maid, offering her $30 per hour. With Paolo prompting her and Rebecca's limited job prospects and substantial student debts, she was on the verge of accepting the offer.
"Yeah, those other sluts from the sorority, including my ex-'friends'," she added.
During the day, while the teens frolicked at the beach, Rebecca assisted me in serving the older partygoers. She seemed flustered when she had to bow to a few of Amanda's acquaintances who were once her fellow sorority sisters.
Throughout the afternoon, these types of jesting conversations among Amanda's and Ryan's old classmates recurred:
A male youth: "If Ryan can make his father-in-law his servant and force him to address him as 'my lord', who would want to cross him?"
A female classmate: "C'mon, Paul. You'd even look adorable in a maid's outfit. Ryan, are you looking for some help with the household chores?"
Another female acquaintance: "No, Ryan. You two deserve it. It's Amanda and her mother who are the real dictators in this place. Maybe Amanda and her mom could host some workshops about this. I'd love to see my domineering father dressed like a maid serving me!"
This barely scratched the surface of the intensive social gatherings planned for the entire month of August.
By midnight, almost all of Kyla's pals had departed, and most of the older guests had left or retired in one of the numerous bedrooms of Shyla's parents' house. I found myself, dressed in my maid attire and ready to cater to anyone's drink or snack preferences, in the spacious living area with Amanda, Ryan, Paolo, Shyla, Rebecca, and Julie. Julie belonged to Shyla and Rebecca's previous sorority at Brown University. Initially, Rebecca perceived Julie as somewhat of a flunkey, ordering her around and making her perform tasks. As the hierarchy transformed from Rebecca to Shyla, Julie quickly switched alignments. Shyla gifted Julie with the authority to monitor Rebecca's performance of her various day-to-day tasks. In this former sorority sister dynamic, Julie, projected to be a college senior in the fall, remained one year behind both Shyla and the potential dropout, Rebecca.
"So, Becky," Shyla inquired, "Will you acquiesce to my unbeatable proposal?"
In her servant uniform, Rebecca directed her gaze towards Shyla and Paulo and responded uncertainly, "I really can't do it, sorry."
Paolo responded, "That's unfortunate, honey. We're through then. What a missed opportunity."
Rebecca's lower lip shuddered, and not even two minutes had passed before she burst into tears. Paolo escorted her out of the room. After a while, they returned to the family room, Rebecca's face blood-red and still damp with tears.
"Shyla, Rebecca has a request for you," Paolo announced.
Tearfully, Rebecca knelt down beside Shyla, fawned over Shyla's feet, and showered them with kisses. "Please forgive my hesitance in accepting your delectable offer, my princess. My stubborn pride had clouded my judgment. Please, princess, take me on as your maid."
Kyla and Julie chuckled.
"You had your opportunity, Becky. The invitation is now invalid."
Rapidly, Rebecca rebounded, "Please reconsider, gracious princess. I'll be extraordinary as your maid. I will serve you intimately in any way you desire. I will maintain above-average grades on Princess Kyla's projects and serve at her parties. Please, my princess, I'm begging for a second chance." Rebecca continued to kneel and shower Shyla's bare feet with kisses.
"Your demands are quite heavy, Becky. If you accept, your payment will be $50,000 annually, accommodation, and medical insurance. Thirty dollars an hour equates to $62,000 a year, thus it's not a significant contrast. I'm not inclined towards hourly payments. This augmented offer will stay valid for 5 minutes."
Rebecca tilted her head thoughtfully at Paolo. "But I have so much debt - student loans and credit cards - it comes to almost a quarter of a million dollars. It'll take me ages to pay that off with my salary."
He rolled his eyes. "Sweetheart, loads of people take over a decade to settle their student debts. Shyla is offering you free accommodation and cash, no taxes involved. You won't even need to tidy up the place. Shyla's folks are planning to purchase her a tiny home in the Hamptons, alongside an apartment in Manhattan. These two properties will likely be smaller than the sorority house you're used to. It'll be a walk in the park for you. Plus, I'm moving in with her, so we'll be roommates. Who knows how many servicemen don't just live out their sexual fantasies, but even get paid for it? The three of us are in for quite a treat. Don't be so dense, sweetheart, accept the offer."
Shyla interjected, "You'll be employed on an at-will basis. That means you can stop working for me or I can fire you at any point, due to any reason. I'm sure your stepdad could prepare a work contract."
Rebecca responded with gratitude. "Thank you, princess. I accept."
"However, there's one more stipulation, considering all your hesitation. You must consent to endure a flogging in front of the entire group tomorrow. Once you're hired, rest assured there'll be a strict punishment and spanking schedule."
"What's a maintenance spanking?" enquired Amanda.
"At the sorority house, Rebecca had weekly sessions with the paddle, irrespective of whether she was in the wrong or not. These rigid punishments were just to reinforce her place in the hierarchy. A regular spanking was just the routine."
"Such a smart idea, Daddy. How come Mom and Jason never came up with this?"
"Because Miss Amanda." I bowed.
"Lastly, do you agree to adhere to this final condition, Rebecca?"
"Yes, princess. I'll comply."
The next day, they headed to the basement of Shyla's mansion, which boasted a large, fully equipped dungeon.
Amanda exclaimed, "Wow, this place is something!"
Paolo explained, "Shyla's parents enjoy the BDSM scene, they're both doms."
Shyla, dressed in tight jeans, knee-high boots, and a tank-top, instructed Rebecca to remove all garments, apart from her chastity belt and choker. Then, she asked Paulo to bind her wrists high up on a bar connected by a pulley, capable of rotating 360 degrees.
Next, Shyla summoned Julie with a bottle of baby oil and nipple clamps. "Julie, could you kindly massage Becky's body with this oil and clamp her nipples?", she asked.
Julie smirked. "With pleasure."
Julie doused Rebecca's every crevice, including her butt crack and vagina, to shine with oil. She then pinched her nipples and compressed them, prompting them to harden before fitting the clamps on. Finally, Paulo unlocked Rebecca, and gagged her.
Shyla carried her riding crop to Rebecca. "Remember, you haven't climaxed in three weeks, Becky." Shyla mocked her, sliding her crop into Rebecca's vagina. Rebecca tried humping the crop, but Shyla would pull it whenever she inched closer to orgasm. She eventually inflicted numerous lashes on Rebecca's back, buttocks, thighs, and sides, even her boobs, as Rebecca struggled in her restraints, trying to evade the lashes. Finally, at the peak of her humiliation, Rebecca was exhausted, panting, and slacking in her bonds. It was a poignant imagery: her oiled body, covered in welt marks, was both erotic and emotional.
After the flogging, Paolo disengaged the cuffs and carried Rebecca to another room. I didn't lay eyes on her for about an hour or so, but then she resurfaced, wearing her servant's outfit to help me prepare dinner. She appeared nowhere near her usual self in my presence - none of her usual defiance and outbursts. Instead, she seemed humbled and couldn't even meet my gaze. Perhaps she was thinking about her future - a lifetime of humiliating servitude to her previous foe, a woman who'd proven capable of being cruel and vindictive. Possibly, she was analyzing how she endured the flogging. Likely, it was a mix of both. And, she was definitely aching from the flogging. If it were me, I'd wonder if I'd be able to continue my duties as a maid under those circumstances.
After a while, Shyla had to journey away from residence for a pair of times. Paulo and Rebecca remained at the abode together with Amanda and Ryan amid Shyla's absence, and promptly went back to turning into a common couple throughout this minimal period. As the single staff, I dealt with Rebecca with the very same respectfulness I would to any additional guest of my girl and man. When the two sets of couples played tennis, I was once more clad in my white tights, wheeling around the terrain collecting balls and bringing towels. It didn't occupy lengthy for Rebecca's haughtiness to once more wholeheartedly return, specifically towards me. However, when the weekend came about, Shyla was back, and Rebecca's penalties repeated, actual with her higher-level humility. At minimum, I was always in a frequent declaration of inferiority; I feel I would've located the flip-flop that Rebecca experienced to be perplexing, if not upsetting.
Towards mid-August, Lauren and Jason completed back from the Amalfi river, which signified I'd be needed to provide Jason the response to his question about whether I would wish for further or significantly less humiliation progressing, if granted the potential. I acquired actually pondered about it and, absolutely openly, was uncertain. There was a portion of me that undoubtedly would've been alleviated to be humiliated significantly less anxiously and fewer often, to be overworked not as really and routine less – certainly, my afflicted knees, battle-weary feet and aching back all rallied stridently in favor of me selecting that Jason proceed decently on me. On the other hand, there was furthermore my fantasy of distinctiveness – the impression of my subservience's originality – as well as my remained yearning to redress the scales of karma. In case Jason were to move more gently on me, would I merely become an ordinary submissive? Would I emerge tedious? I moreover questioned myself what further could Jason accomplishing to me to amplify my humiliation than what he and the some others had down already. I assume it was my intellectual curiosity about this hubquests which colonized the scale (my dread about the probable replies notwithstanding).
I recall the conversation thoroughly. Lauren was current amid Jason and I exchanged. He sat atop the seat as I was on my knees doing a foot massage for him.
"So, Jenkins, I perceive that you have been giving my inquiry some breather during our honeymoon."
"Surely, sir. I've given it significant deliberation."
"What is your response?"
"Sir, if placed in a pinch, I would humbly request that you dilation your humiliation of me."
Jason peered over towards Lauren and smirked. "You must reimburse me for diner."
He at that point connected with me. "You discover, Jenkins, when I affirmed, 'hypothetically', I wasn't getting ready to postulate concerning whether or not I'd make up my psychic torment. That was all nailed down. By 'hypothetically' I was solely wondering about whether you had any choice in the calculation. And, as you can ascertain, I was accurate in prognosticating that you would go with additional humiliation. Take heart, it's not too a distance away."
"Yes, master. I comprehend". I (correspondingly as Rebecca) mulled beyond my fate as I indulgently massaged each specified toe, in the method he supposed.
The entirety of August concerned additional meet-ups at Forrest's parents' residence, in general with me au fait by Rebecca's dimension. Together with Penny and Kyle, George managed nearby Rebecca and myself, cladded in one of Penny's enhanced position-serving uniform shirt-handed off by Lauren to Penny.
Amanda was pretty principled, contemplating the thought of introducing regular maintenance punishments into my worldwide itinerary. These were put in countenance for every Saturday evening after dinner, with versatility to amend if required.
One various noteworthy incidence transpired the concluding week of the month, when I dedicated a offhand blunder in proofreading. The document in question was for one of Forrest's most adorning occupation customers; when the client recognized the unfault, it was the source of not a negligent amount of outcast for Forrest and the firm. Ergo, though the slip-up may not have threatened Forrest's business with the patron, it could have. And that mustn't be allowed to arise again.
My disciplining was designated to have place the closing Thursday of the month, in one of the restful saloons at the manor. Noticeably, Penny was invited (it seemed that her sadistic hunger for observing dismal males be overruled by dominant ones was indefatigable, and had not been placated by Kyle and George entering her everyday activity). Additional, clearly, in attendance were Lauren, Amanda, Ryan and Jane – as proclaimed, also Forrest and Jason – to control my discipline. Given the acute nature of my blunder, Jason enlisted Ryan to be indebted my Yule present to him, the infamous Canadian prison strap. I was to obtain 10 strokes of the strap each by Jason and Forrest. Considering the excruciating discomfort I subsisted from only six strokes of the strap on Christmas Day, I earnestly cast doubt on whether or not I could then again stand it.
I stepped into the room, wearing only a pair of provocative purple chastisement shorts, with my chubby penis standing at attention in spite of my nerves. My erection quickly deflated after one touch from Jason. By the fifth touch, I was close to begging Forrest for mercy and suspending the remainder of my discipline. Yet, I remembered that it would be foolish and possibly detrimental to try this, so I bit down on my teeth and clenched the backrest of the chair I was leaning over as Forrest finished my correction.
My post-punishment expiation was more extensive and elaborate than the norm. First, I was obligated to sit on two straightback chairs positioned side by side for 30 minutes, hands clasped behind my back, while my tights were pulled down, exposing my badly bruised bottom to everyone in the room. After this, I was ordered to pull up my tights and stand facing everyone, legs apart, and my arms reached out in front of me with the prison strap on them. My arms started to tremble midway through this 30-minute section of my atonement. That didn't stop my member from bulging out my trousers, much to my embarrassment. Finally, after everyone else had left or gone to bed, I was mandated to join Jason and Forrest out on the patio while the two of them indulged in Cuban cigars and a bottle of the most exceptional port from my former wine cellar. Still wearing my tights, I kneeled in between them on the solid patio pavers, offering an ashtray out to them in my elongated arms to gather their ashes. Beneath my outstretched arms was the bulge in my costume.
"Jenkins, do you understand that your slip-ups in your customer work will not be tolerated? That you must double-check, then verify your work every time?" asked Forrest.
"The message has been received loud and clear, Mr. Johnson, sir. Thank you for correcting me."
"How does your butt feel, Jenkins?" asked Jason.
"It still hurts quite badly, sir."
"Good. If you screw up again, it'll be much worse. I guarantee it."
"I understand, sir."
When Forrest and Jason had completed their cigars, Jason grabbed a huge handful of my thick locks, yanked my head back harshly, and then planted the wet stub of his cigar against my lips, insisting that I inhale. I used to enjoy the occasional cigar pretty often, but it had been over a year since I had one, so my action was to hack involuntarily. It was strange feeling Jason's spit on my lips as I sucked on the leftovers of his cigar.
Nevertheless, an essential incident during a big celebration at the manor on Labor Day weekend occurred when Amanda and Ryan informed the guests that they were buying a starter house near us and settling down in the Hamptons.
Evidently, the family servant would soon have two residences to maintain. [punchline]
Read also:
- A Seductive Weekend Transcending Friendship
- Uninhabited Abode, Satisfied Appetite
- S.L: Part 1 - The Wellness Obsessive
- Forgetting Trisha: Bangalore Chapter 3
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