Quiet Servitude Pt. 02
Keywords: 02, Servitude, Pt., Quiet,
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"Author"s Notes
Before reading this story please be aware that that some people would label this work as obscene and pornographic in nature. It contains several themes including transgendered, homosexual and lesbian issues in addition to graphic sexual descriptions.
To make the action flow more freely and the stories light-hearted, I have taken a socially naïve approach and have not included the usual protections that intelligent people would choose such as condoms, birth control and out safeguards against sexually transmitted diseases. Such risky behavior as those exhibited by the characters of this story should not be followed.
If any of these topics make you uncomfortable please look elsewhere.
If this sounds like a story you might find interesting, enjoy.
With the exception of the main character Stacy, after whom I modeled a lot of my own psyche wanting to capture how I would feel in situations developed in the story, all other characters and circumstances are completely fictional. Any resemblance to actual people or places is completely coincidental."
*Chapter 6 – Sunday, June 8th*
My fuzzy mind picked up the sounds first, the noise from rattling dishes and silverware. I noted the sunshine even through my closed eyelids, grudgingly opening my eyes to confirm what I had already suspected; morning had arrived. I wasn"t a morning person and wanted to stay under the covers as long as possible. Even when I stretched and noted the spaghetti straps of my nightgown across my shoulders and disappearing under the edge of my sheets I failed to get overly excited. Apparently Stacy hated morning as much as I did.
The clock"s red numbers glowed 9:48 a.m. and I knew I had to get moving. It normally took me twenty minutes to complete my normal routine but absolutely no less than forty-five for Stacy to finish her primping and yet be presentable.
I pushed the sheets aside and stood, my fingers finding the straps of the gown and slid them away, the entire satin nightie sliding to the floor around my feet. Halfway to the bathroom my manicured fingers had found their way under the sides of my panties and worked them over down my legs, gravity helping them over my knees and onto the carpet to keep the nightgown company.
The tile in the bathroom felt cool on my feet as I padded through the doorway and flipped on the light and called for hot water. The reliable nature of indoor plumbing didn"t disappoint and within a minute I stepped into the tub and felt the invigorating spray of steam begin to work its magic.
I was relishing the hot water but felt a certain excitement to get out and get on with the day. With my makeup and other accessories unpacked and at hand, I had developed a morning routine and was ready before I knew it, Stacy staring back at me from the bathroom mirror, ready to go. I had dropped my black and white uniform in the hamper the night before and withdrew another, this one cut in the same style but pink in color with white cuffs and collar.
One final check in the mirror and I left my room, working my way down the short hallway and out into the livingroom. Having heard the familiar sounds of plates and silverware earlier I stepped into the kitchen and noticed the stack of dirty dishes. I began to run hot water into the basin and added soap when I looked out and noticed Christa and Terry on the deck, finishing up with breakfast.
I could smell the brewing of coffee and noted the half-filled pot sitting in its cradle. I didn"t drink coffee but loved the smell. Christa wasn"t a fan either so the fresh smell was a treat as I pulled the carton of orange juice from the refrigerator, took up the coffee carafe in my free hand and walked through the house to the doorwall. The air conditioning was off and the house airing out as a cool breeze blew through the screen door. Pushing it aside, I stepped out and approached the table, the umbrella missing. Terry and Christa were enjoying the beautiful, summer sun.
"Good morning ma"am . . .. Sir."
"Good morning Stacy. How did you sleep?" Christa asked.
"Excellent. Thank you. More orange juice?" I asked, looking down at her for a response. She had on a pair of baby blue hospital scrubs, her round, unencumbered breasts pushing out against the light material. I knew she wasn"t wearing a bra on under the outfit and I could feel a familiar response under my uniform even before she spoke.
"No thank you." She said.
I nodded and looked over to Terry, motioning with the carafe.
"More coffee sir?"
"Yes please." Terry said enthusiastically. "I can"t survive without this stuff."
I topped off his mug with the pitch-black liquid.
"I"m sorry I wasn"t up yet to fix breakfast for you. Is there anything you need?" I asked.
"No thank you Stacy." Christa replied, looking even more revitalized this morning. She was smiling widely.
"No thanks. I"m stuffed. I hope I didn"t step on any toes by making breakfast or make too much of a mess. I can clean it up if you like?" Terry queried.
"Don"t worry Terry. Stacy will take care of it."
"Of course. Don"t worry about it sir. I"m almost finished."
I withdrew with my load and returned the orange juice and coffee to their allotted spots before stepping back out to the deck to clear the table of the plates, silverware, napkins and other breakfast essentials.
The couple continued to enjoy the day while I returned to clean the kitchen. Just as I was finishing up loading the dishwasher with the smaller items they came inside, the screen door clacking shut.
"Stacy?"
I stopped wiping the countertop and looked up expectantly in her direction.
"Yes ma"am?"
"In addition to the regular chores, could you please change the sheets in the bedrooms and have a roast and the usual sides ready for dinner at 6 p.m. again tonight? Terry and I will have lunch out but should be back before Julie arrives later today."
"Of course Mrs. Miller."
They split up, Terry hitting the couch in the living room and switching on the TV while Christa continued on to the back of the house.
I had just finished up the cleaning when Christa reappeared, no longer dressed in her scrubs. She rounded the corner of the couch and stepped into the livingroom, Terry coming to his feet at her approach.
I suspected her attire was having a similar effect on Terry as it was having on me.
She had on a gold, liquid metal tank top, it shiny surface hanging around her upper body suspended on two thin spaghetti straps, the negligible built in shelf barely able to contain her breasts as they moved hypnotically back and forth with each perfect step. Christa"s legs were wrapped in dark nylons, her feet tucked inside a pair of patent, black high heels, causing her to teeter slightly from the height. Her long legs extended upwards, the nylon continuing over her knees and up until they finally disappeared under the hem of a short miniskirt, the tight black material fitting perfectly over her rounded hips. The entire ensemble must have been new because I didn"t recognize any of it.
She had tousled her hair with her fingers and the curl returned.
She looked so incredibly hot in that outfit, causing Terry to fumble with an endless stream of compliments. I had seen pictures of Christa from her college days and she looked gorgeous then, if a little young and still harboring girlish features. But now, she was all woman and Terry was getting both barrels.
It was clear from her slightly embarrassed response that she was fully enjoying the attention. Mr. Williams on the other hand had on a tan polo and matching slacks, having gone without the jeans that seemed inseparable. A pair of simple slip-on shoes completed the look.
"Ready to go?" she asked.
"Oh yes." He purred.
"Goodbye Stacy. We"ll be back later."
Before I could step from the kitchen and reply, the door closed shut and they were gone again, the sound of the garage both preceding and following the expensive rumble of the Cadillac racing down the street.
I was alone again.
Having receiving my marching orders I walked to the back of the house and into the master bedroom, throwing back the comforter and stripped the sheets from the queen sized mattress. Balling them up I couldn"t help by notice the unfamiliar stains just barely visible on the deep blue material. It didn"t take much imagination to guess what it was and the pungent odor confirmed my suspicions. I pulled off the mattress cover, it too showing signs of carnal escapades, and tossed it on the floor where the pillowcases landed moments later. Bundling them up and tossing them in the hall I strolled across to the smaller twin bed in Terry"s room and noted that although the covers were back and the pillow disturbed, the bed hardly looked slept in. Doing as instructed, I pulled off the sheets following the same routine and took the armload down into the basement and loaded the washer. My own bed was clean so other than straightening the sheets I simply pulled back the covers to make it look presentable to the casual observer, resigning myself to the fact now that no one, save myself, would be sleeping or doing anything else in it the remainder of the week.
With the laundry spinning, I carefully climbed the wooden stairs in my heels and emerged into the kitchen, fixing a sandwich from the remaining tuna fish. While I nibbled, my mind continued to ponder where Christa and Terry were off to. In between trying to unlock the mystery of their agenda for the day came a mix of other thoughts split evenly between visions of Christa walking the sidewalks around town out in the bright sunshine wearing that incredible outfit and thoughts of me looking like her out walking the sidewalks around town draped in that incredible outfit.
I don"t know why I continued to torture myself with such thoughts. I wasn"t bad looking in a wig with decent makeup, but no matter what I did I wouldn"t be petite and were cursed with wide manly shoulders you couldn"t hid in any kind of outfit. Stacy was indeed suffering from a Cinderella complex and I chuckled, finding the thought amusing as I stood there in my maids outfit wondering where my fairy Godmother was hiding because I had a wish and by now I figured she owed me big time! I smiled and loaded my plate and spoon into the dishwasher and headed back to the basement, the spin cycle complete.
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Keywords: 02, Servitude, Pt., Quiet,