Maid of All Work Pt. 02

Gentle Molly is tested, learns a little about her Mistress, and sinks further into depravity as she loves every minute. Be warned that this is no “how to guide”, and health and safety isn’t a thing, but no real maids were harmed in the crafting of this story xxx

Cold daylight woke us as the curtains were rudely opened by the housekeeper.

“What time do you call this you pair of lazy sluts?”

Everything ached. My hips and shoulders were so stiff as I hustled out of bed.

Helen was mortified. “So sorry Mrs Bates, I don’t know what came over… Oh!”

The angry housekeeper took hold of Helen’s ear, and frogmarched her towards the window.

My hand flew to my mouth. Surely she wouldn’t…

Mrs Bates didn’t defenestrate Helen, but forcefully bent her over the convenient ledge of the window seat, yanked up the poor girl’s nightgown and laid into her arse with a slipper.

“Impudent… lazy… trollops the PAIR of you!”

My knees were shaking, I couldn’t watch Helen be punished. I blocked out her plaintive cries for mercy as I hurriedly stripped off and dressed myself. I had to put on underwear. Certainly I wouldn’t be able to leave off my underwear and molest my tits with the housekeeper here. My eyes welled up at the thought of what Miss Alice would do to me when she found out I’d disobeyed.

Poor Helen took the brunt of Mrs Bates wrath. Dozens of blows rained down on her tender bottom. By the time my friend was allowed to stand up and cover herself I stood waiting, terrified.

“Bend over girl! You’ve wasted enough of my time.”

I lifted my skirts and lay forward, whimpering as my bruised tits pressed against the window sill.

“What on earth?” she gasped.

Her rough hand traced over the deep welts on my thighs and calves from where chains had dug in. The livid hand prints on my hips from where Miss Alice had gripped hand fulls of flesh as she pounded me.

Ever so gently, Mrs Bates separated the cheeks of my arse to examine me there. “You poor devil,” she tutted.

I winced as she deftly pulled my skirts down, and sat on the seat beside me. She patted my rump. “Fetch yourselves some bread and butter. Rooms were done hours ago, you can both help in the kitchen. Go on. Get!”

The old woman had seen right up my bottom. I wondered how swollen and ugly it looked, if it was as bruised and battered as it felt. Why had she shown mercy? Didn’t she understand how complicit she was already in our degradation?

Helen gave me a dirty look as we headed downstairs. “Not one stroke,” she scoffed. “I reckon you’ll be under the housekeeper’s skirts too soon enough.” She rubbed her backside gingerly.

Was I relieved to avoid the slipper, or disappointed?

I flushed beet red as we entered the kitchen. Other maids tittered, a footman leered at us. To their disappointment, Helen quickly assembled a plate full of bread and butter and spirited me away down a servants passageway.

“In here.”

It was a largish pantry with a bolt on the inside. I’d been forced inside before by the butler. A narrow single glazed window let in a bit of grey daylight. We sat on lumpy sacks of flour and potatoes and ate. Hurried heavy footsteps passed outside and as they faded, Helen looked me up and down and set her plate aside.

“Thanks for last night,” she said.

“WillMrs Bates separate us?” I asked.

“No. Lady Cranwell might though. I think she’ll have you up in her room for good soon.” She shifted uncomfortably then. “Or downstairs in the cellar.”

I gulped. “Did you know about this deal they made with my father? Does everyone know?”

“I don’t think she’s telling the truth,” Helen said bluntly. “I think she made that up to break your spirit, so you’d do those dirty things for her. So you’d think no-one else cared about you.”

“What? But why?”

“She’s a cold hearted bitch. I would be too in her shoes.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “The way she said it, I can’t believe anyone’s capable of breaking such an intimate trust, I…”

“Put it this way. Your dad is a career military man. You’re on his personnel record. Why would he risk everything for a few quid? All this kinky twisted stuff? I’d bet good money he knows nothing about any of it. He needs you safely married off as soon as he can afford it with no scandal.”

It made my head hurt. “I don’t know what to believe.”

“It doesn’t change anything. We do as we’re told, we stay strong but we keep our heads down. Just keep in mind she is powerless outside this house, and unlike you, she’s stuck here for life. Mind games, Molly. These high born bitches have nothing to live for but mind games.”

“But we’re completely powerless, because this is her house! Don’t aggravate her.”

“I’m not aggravating her. I’m helping you,” Helen sniffed. “And I’d lose the underwear if I were you.”

“Oh?” I giggled, “that’s why you brought me down here.”

“Don’t be daft, we don’t have time to get frisky. I just meant make sure it’s just your dress you have on if the bitch summons you.” She sidled up close to me and I felt a familiar heat build in my core as she began to unfasten my bodice. “I thought you might let me do the honors again?” She bit her lip and gave me a lovely half smile.

“I’d b… be much obliged to you,” I breathed.

She pulled a hankie out of her pocket. “Hold this between your teeth.”

It smelled faintly of orange blossom. I closed my eyes as she began toying with my body. Her eager hands rolled and squeezed my tits, and God! As I was sitting up higher, her mouth was level with them. I moaned deep in my throat as she began to nurse. She took me deep into her hot mouth, pulsing, suckling, taking her time, as though just the taste of me was enough to thrill her.

I squeezed my legs together, in vain, my wetness spilled from me and my clit ached as she mouthed my nipples and worked my breasts. The slippery heat of her tongue circled my hardened teats, the tingling flush spread, swelling my lips. I breathed her name into the sweet scented cloth, begging, longing. Just a touch, just a tiny brush of one finger on my clit would have sent me over the edge. Or a tongue, damn my filthy heart.

“I’d love to bite down and mark you,” Helen said hungrily, “Hang me for a coward.” She straightened herself up. “Look, Molly. Show me your gorgeous eyes.”

That was all the warning I got before she grabbed hold of both hard wet nipples and dragged me off my seat and up onto my tip toes, twisting. She was vicious! I was caught in her sadistic pleasure. Lost in the euphoria I saw in those soft brown pools, I moaned into her handkerchief.

It hurt! Somehow that made my cunt clench tighter than a fist. I had no time to think, my body shuddered as I came for her.

“There.” She patted the tortured nubs gently and fastened up my bodice. “Now you’re ready for anything.”

She took the hankie from my mouth and tucked it into my sleeve. “For luck.” Then she softly kissed my lips, unlocked the door, and slipped away.

I was an utter wreck. I gathered the plates and wobbled my way back to the kitchen. When the sullen footman made me kneel for him I’d never been so eager to be used.

His cockhead was soon squelching away at the back of my throat, and I barely heaved even though I’d only just eaten. What a whore I had become. He laughed as he spilled deep inside and I guzzled it all down, licking and kissing even as he pulled away.

“You’re an eager little tart, ain’t ya!” He mussed my hair affectionately. “Come up, up now little Molly. Someone’s waiting.”

It was Stella the upstairs maid. I was barely on my feet as she grabbed my arm and hustled me out of the kitchen.

“Mon Dieu!” she fussed, “I was looking for you since breakfast. Our Madame? She is not good.”

“Oh Stella.” My voice broke into nothing but a whimper, “Again already? It’s not even… not even been a day since…”

“Oh ma petite chérie, ne pleure pas! Madame she is not, how you say? Fâchée… angry? Not to you, son chouchou, oh non. No crying.”

I followed her, not at all convinced. I squeezed Helen’s hankie and dabbed away my tears. Keep our heads down, don’t complain, stay strong, she had said. But this was the fourth pair of hands that had laid claim to my body in as many hours and though it was my duty, I was wary of it.

We entered her Ladyship’s apartment and Stella gently stripped me, pried the hankie from my fist and set it with my dress. “Go to her,” she smiled her encouragement, “s’il te plaît?”

The chambermaid stood by the door watching as I padded barefoot through the sitting room into the bedroom.

Miss Alice was sitting at the hearth still in her nightgown. Her needlepoint was trailing off her lap, and a piece of paper, a letter perhaps, was clutched tight in her hand. I dropped to my knees and crawled to her, dared to rescue the embroidery frame and set it aside.

She looked down at me in a most un-Miss Alice-like fashion. No desire or cruelty there at all. Still she put me into place with my bruised bottom towards the warmth of the fire, and rested her feet on my back. Stella quietly closed the door.

I could feel the tension in my lady’s entire body, even though our only point of contact was her stockinged heels on my back. Gradually she relaxed, though I had no idea how long we stayed like that. It was peaceful, meditative. I feel I must have been a genuine comfort to her rather than a crude vessel for her to pour her lust into. My stomach roiled with nerves as she leaned to pick something up, but it was only her needlework.

I emptied my mind again until the light began to fade and she summoned Stella to close the drapes and light the lamps.

“Excusez-moi, voulez-vous des rafraîchissements madame?”

“Tea please, Stella. And a little something more, if you please, for you and our pet.”

“Merçi.” She bobbed her little curtsey as she left.

My back was unburdened and I couldn’t help but gasp and squeeze my eyes shut as a hand settled on my rear.

“Dear me, we did get a little carried away last night, didn’t we!”

I tried hard to breathe my nerves away. I was at peace with it, I scolded myself. This was my duty.

“You’ll forgive me today pet, I am too wrung out to play hard. But I appreciate your service.”