 |
|||
|
|
Part 5
The end of term had crept up
on me, and when I finally realised it was after that last session. That meant
two weeks without Mr. Harding and our exciting sessions. I began to feel a
little sad at the prospect. Fortunately Mr Harding had been having similar
thoughts. As I sat brooding in my form’s classroom, a memo was sent to my form
stating that:
Lily Cassidy is needed directly
in my classroom,
Mr Harding
To think; so few words can
hide such an enormous story. I climbed up and dashed down the corridor, unable
to contain my excitement. Mr Harding was fortunate enough not to have a form of
his own and therefore could spend registration concocting schemes. I
tentatively opened the door and walked in.
“Good morning,” I said when
he seemed not to notice me.
“Sit down, Lily,” I sat in
the chair he waved at and waited.
“I have decided that over the
spring holiday you will required at my home.” The formality of it all made me
smile, I tried to hide it and mirrored the man who had taken my virginity.
“Is that so Mr Harding,” I
also tried to contain my growing pleasure. “What on earth would my parents
think of that? They would imagine you were some kind of sick pervert!”
“how ridiculous!” he said
with a laugh. “It’s ok, I’ve thought of that, you have decided that you are
going to spend your holiday cleaning my house for some extra cash.”
“How exciting.” I felt very
unsure.
“Well? It’s your choice; come
and be my little slut, or don’t see me for two weeks.”
“I’ll do it, Sir.”
“Good, that’s what I wanted
to hear.” He handed me a folder. “In here is all the necessary information; he
handed me a small letter. Address, Telephone, and so on. And directions or the
first days work. Next Monday. Oh I do so hope you weren’t planning on having a
restful holiday?”
“No Sir.”
“See you Monday.”
I was dismissed.
I waited until I got home to
open the letter. I lay on the bed and gently peeled it open. My body ached with
anticipation. I began to read.
Dear Slut,
You will be expected to arrive
at 8 am promptly to the address below. Failure to arrive on time will result in
punishment.
Please wear the following:
A skirt that is above the knee,
A blouse
Heels
Underwear will not be
necessary.
Failure to comply will result
in punishment.
Furthermore I expect you to be
clean; have shaved your armpits and legs, and to be wearing makeup.
Sir
I sat on the bed trembling
with anticipation. Going without underwear would be something completely new,
and the prospect alone was making me wet. I wriggled under the covers and
masturbated gently.
The bus journey was fun. I
had showered just before but I was convinced nonetheless, that passers-by would
be able to smell me. I crossed my legs desperately but the whole knickerless
experience was beginning to make me very wet. I blushed furiously and the
person sat next to me noticed.
"Are you alright? You
look awfully flushed?" Said the concerned middle-aged woman waylaid with
shopping.
"What?!" I said
surprised.
“Alright?”
“Oh.. Right! Yes, thanks.”
“Not too cold or anything?”
I looked down, and realised
to my horror that my nipples were erect and showing through the thin material
of the blouse. I had been so busy worrying about my wet pussy, I’d forgotten
them. I folded my arms.
“No, no, I’m fine.”
Needless to say, my blush did
not fade for the rest of the journey.
I arrived at a detached red
brick house in an estate in suburbia. Not rich, not poor. The curtains were all
drawn and the house looked as though it might be uninhabited. I knocked all the
same. Thankfully the door swung gently open.
“In”
I stepped into the house. To
meet Mr Harding dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans. It seemed strange not to
see him in a shirt and trousers, and for a moment he seemed a little less
impressive than normal. Then he forced me onto my knees and the illusion that
he was normal was lost.
“The door will always be open
when you arrive. From now on I expect you to let yourself in and kneel at the
foot of the stairs where you will wait for me. From time to time I will leave
you notes, but normally I will be as prompt as I expect you to be. I won’t
leave you here for more than an hour, but if I did then you of course would
maintain the position. Wouldn’t you Slut?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Mornings will be spent
cleaning and afternoons in training. You will be fed only if I believe you
deserve it. You will be required on Saturdays but Sunday will be your day off.
Follow me Slut, it’s time for the tour.”
I got up off my knees and
followed him.
Downstairs is pretty self
explanatory. Lounge, The Music Room, Kitchen, and small bathroom. Upstairs…”
He led the way.
“There are three bedrooms;
one is my room you will not be permitted to enter that room without permission.
Then there is a guest room. The third bedroom is connected to my room and has
no windows. Why do you think that is little slut?”
“So it’s secret?”
He spun around and slapped me
hard across the face, then forced me against the landing wall. “What did you
say?” he hissed.
“So it’s secret, Sir?”
“That’s better.” he became
calm as suddenly as he had become angry. “And you are pretty close with that
response. Yes, but also so that no noise can escape, I wouldn’t want a scandal,
and also so that a certain little slut can’t escape.”
He led me to a wardrobe on
the landing, which when opened was filled with shelves attached to the door.
Behind the shelves there was another door, which when opened led to the secret
room he had just described. He seemed very pleased with himself.
“A clever little trick
because it also insulates from sound.”
“Like a personal Narnia,” I
quipped, then put my hands up to protect my face from an imminent attack. He
grabbed my wrists and pulled them down. I cringed with fear at what he would do
next.
He saw my pathetic expression
and laughed.
“Come on slut, have a look at
your new bedroom.” Mr Harding unlocked the door, and led me in. The room was
the size of a normal bedroom, much to my surprise, and painted in a stark white
colour; would have nowhere to hide. There was a mirrored wardrobe which
amplified everything. A bed, and, worryingly, a small hook in the ceiling which
seemed to be a focal point.
“Don’t worry I will punish
you later for forgetting. Stand here.” he pointed to the centre of the room. “spread
you legs a bit.” He slid his hand over my nipples, feeling them through the
blouse. “Someone is erect…” his hand wandered to the bottom of my skirt and
slid up my slit. “and wet! You‘re absolutely soaking.” He grinned, “I’m glad
you like making a fool of yourself, that will make this a whole lot easier.” He
opened the wardrobe and drew out a maid’s outfit. It was in the Lolita Japanese
style with a skirt and heavy petticoat, white fish-net stockings and frilly
apron. Black round toed heels and a little hat, completed the outfit.
“Normally if you are as rude
to me as you have been today I would only allow you the heels, hat and apron.
But since it is you first day, I will be lenient.” He smiled at me. As if he
expected something.
“Oh! Umm, thank you Sir.”
“That’s quite alright, now
your first job will be to make me breakfast. I’m famished. Then you will clean
the kitchen, and floor. The lounge will be next then the music room. Polish all
the surfaces. Hoover and clean the floors. Do the guest bedroom and also the
upstairs bathroom. At 12.30 I will expect lunch on the table and then at one
you will receive training. When training is over then you may return home.”
“What time will training
finish Sir?”
“When I decide. Breakfast,
Now.”
“Yes Sir.”
I changed quickly into the
maid’s outfit and found that it was very heavy because of the layers of
petticoat, effectively I would be receiving a workout as I cooked and cleaning
and sweated under the heavy layers. I almost wished he had left me in just the
apron.
I rushed downstairs, to find
Mr Harding sat at the table with morning paper.
Kettle on. Eggs beaten. Bread
in toaster. Butter into frying pan; closely followed by egg. Kettle boiled.
“Strong or weak tea, Mr
Harding?”
“Strong, milk, no sugar,”
I finished it quickly and
placed it beside him. The toast popped up, was buttered in a frenzy and the
slightly overcooked eggs were thrown on top. Panting I served it all to him.
The only response I got was “Salt.”
I handed him the cellar and
rushed to clean the pan and equipment. All the time the weight of the dress
pressing down. Not to mention the tightly bound corset that constricted my
breathing slightly. Mr Harding was finished. He came over to me and whispered
into my ear. “You look ravishing in that little dress slut. You panting
dreadfully, I had no idea you were so unfit. You keep panting like that and I
will be forced to treat you like a dog.” My eyes widened. He placed a finger
under my chin, and licked my exposed neck.
“I am going to get some
things.”
And with that he left me to clean and cook all
alone, wondering exactly what he meant by “things.”
By 12 I was exhausted. I had
managed to clean all of downstairs but upstairs was untouched. I knew the
implications of this. I made Mr Harding a roast beef sandwich and waited for
him to arrive. I was starving, but I doubted my efforts had been enough to
merit lunch. The door swung open at 12:15. As he ate, I knelt on the cold stone
floor next to him as he interrogated me. Listing the rooms checking they were
cleaned according to his instructions. I had quickly realised that I would not
be able to clean every room so I concentrated on making the rooms I did do
immaculate, so that at least tomorrow, my job would be easier in those rooms
and I would be able to do more. Today, though, the penalties would be heavy.
It quickly became clear to Mr
Harding that I had only done half the rooms.
“Do you think that’s good
enough, you little bitch?”
“No, sir.” I replied wearily.
Waiting for the inevitable; No lunch for you.
“Do you think you deserve
lunch?”
“No sir.”
“Get under the table and suck
me off, afterwards you can thank me for allowing you a nutritious lunch.”
I sat under the table and
undid his trousers. His flaccid penis fell out and I slowly began to suck. I
alternated between his balls and his legs, seeing which would illicit more
moans and then when he was fully erect, I slid my mouth down the majority of
the length until his penis hit the back of my throat. This time I gagged
awfully, withdrew his penis and began to cough and splutter. Mr Harding was
unimpressed.
“Not doing so well for a
first day, are we little girl. Perhaps I better send you home.”
“Please Mr Harding, I will do
better.” I felt so shameful and humiliated that tears began to rise up in my
eyes.
“Please…”
“Well, I will just have to
train you in that area. For now it is time to take you to your room. I am going
to begin to teach you how to be a proper Slut.
To be continued.
|
|
|