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Maid to Order Page 3
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‘Mrs Hegedus will do,’ she answered. ‘So you’re the new maid? Good. You look the part.’
She sounded sarcastic. I couldn’t think why, or what to say, but Mr Hegedus took over, his voice wheedling. ‘Mr Rathwell chose her specially.’
Her answer was a sceptical grunt. ‘Well you just mind where you put your hands, Vilmos Hegedus.’
He smiled and laughed, but only succeeded in looking and sounding guilty. ‘I have eyes only for you, my kitten,’ he assured her.
She gave another grunt. ‘How many covers tonight, and what fish did you get?’
They began to discuss hotel matters and I waited politely while I struggled to make sense of what was going on. From what had been said it was Morris himself who’d suggested I be hired. He’d told Mr Hegedus, who in turn had told Danielle, and yet nothing had been said at the last party. Yet Morris was a businessman. He moved fast and was always looking for new opportunities, both to make money and indulge his penchant for humiliating girls, preferably both at the same time. I was caught up in something and I didn’t mind all that much, but I did need to speak to him.
‘... and there is only one lobster,’ Mrs Hegedus finished, as if making a threat, and turned away.
I found my gaze following her in horrified fascination, hypnotised by the roll of her monstrous buttocks beneath her coat. Mr Hegedus gave me a sad look. ‘You see, you must work, but still, maybe, now and then, it will be hot botty for baby all the same, yes?’ He gave me a slow wink and his eyes flickered down to my hips before he went on. ‘You are in chalet nine, up the hill. Morris ... Mr Rathwell says to put you there. Your uniforms are on the bed. Would you like a hand with your cases perhaps?’
I’d only brought two, both the wheelie sort, and I could tell what he was up to, hoping I’d let him watch me change. Judging by the expression in his eyes and the way his fat, pink tongue flicked out to moisten his lips, he might as well have just come right out with it.
‘Yes, thank you,’ I replied.
I wasn’t really in the mood for giving him a show, but he was my boss and it would pay to be on the right side of him. Then again, I very definitely didn’t want to be on the wrong side of his wife, who already seemed to have her suspicions. I decided to tease instead, and hope I could keep him under control that way, so I deliberately walked ahead, allowing him to admire the shape of my bum in my jeans as we crossed the reception area. There was a door on the far side that led towards the chalets, but it was opposite the one leading into the kitchen and as I pushed it open we were brought up short by a roar.
‘She can do that on her own, Vilmos Hegedus! You can take out the bins for me.’
He winced. ‘Yes, my kitten.’
I took over the cases, hauled them through the door and away down a glass-roofed terrace set with cast iron tables overlooking the sea. The door at the end led to a corridor with rooms to one side and windows to the other, which led in turn to a walkway connecting the line of chalets. Mine was the furthest away of all; a fair way up the hill and sheltered beneath the last of the trees. It was rather nice, with a bathroom and even a tiny kitchen, while the bed was a big, soft king-size with a fluffy coverlet on which were laid out three uniforms.
Two were exactly the same smart dark blue maid’s uniforms, knee-length with a white collar and white trim on the sleeves, rather boring really. The third was very different, and had obviously designed by a dirty old man; in black satin with a skirt so short it obviously wasn’t going to cover my knickers and lacing down the front of the bodice, which was so low cut that what little I had would be in danger of spilling out. There were accessories too: stockings, suspenders, black high-heels, a layered underskirt and a hideous pair of froufrou panties, as big as gym knickers with a dozen layers of see-through lace at the back.
‘Perverts.’
I’d spoken to myself, but I’d have said it to Morris’s face. He’d have laughed. Mr Hegedus I wasn’t so sure of, as he seemed to take himself rather more seriously and had immediately grown defensive when I’d called him a dirty old man. That was what he was though, and Morris, and all the other men who like girls done up in tarty uniforms and naughty lingerie and weird outfits. It’s fun though, and at least with men like that I don’t have to pretend I’m something I’m not.
Nobody had told me which uniform to put on, but when Mr Hegedus was talking to his wife they’d mentioned a wedding party that evening and I didn’t imagine they’d want me strutting about with my knickers on show. There was no rush though, and as I stripped off for the shower I was growing increasingly tempted to try the naughty one on first.
Until I got under the water I hadn’t realised how tired I was. It had been a long and stressful day, what with Dad and Danielle and the drive down to the coast. With my eyes closed and the hot water cascading down my body I was growing rapidly sleepy, making me wonder if I dared snatch a nap before reporting for duty. It was still mid afternoon, and nobody had said I had to be anywhere at any particular time, so once I was out of the shower I hung my uniform up in the cupboard and lay down on the bed with just a towel wrapped around me.
I felt drowsy and relaxed, a little naughty too, with thoughts of what Morris and Mr Hegedus might have in store for me running through my head. At the very least I was plainly expected to serve at meals in my kinky maid’s outfit, and that meant the guests would have been carefully selected to appreciate what was on show. Maybe it would just be stag parties, but that wasn’t really Morris’s style. More likely it would be the sort of men who came to his private parties, discreet, older men with plenty of money and specialist tastes. I could probably expect to have my bum pulled out of my ridiculous froufrou knickers for spanking, a thought that sent a shiver of excitement and shame the length of my spine.
There’s something about being warm and drowsy that always makes me want to masturbate. Being sleepy makes my defences come down too, so I can be really dirty with myself without feeling bad. I was tempted now, just to throw the towel away and roll over, face down on the bed with my bottom pushed up so that I could explore myself from behind while I thought of being in the same, rude, vulnerable position for punishment. My hairbrush was in my case, and it was just right to apply a few firm swats to each cheek before sticking the handle up my pussy while I finished off, or even into my bumhole.
It was a deliciously dirty thought, and I bounced over on the bed, stretching for my case with my legs cocked wide and my toes dug into the coverlet to stop me overbalancing. I must have looked a fine sight, with my bum turned up and my pussy wide open, which was why the sound of a creak from the walkway outside had me snatching for my towel and trying to cover myself behind at the same time. Unfortunately I fell off the bed, landing on the floor with a thud just as a knock sounded at the door.
‘Hang on, I’m not decent!’
‘It’s only me,’ Mr Hegedus answered, his voice unmistakable.
That was what I’d been worried about, and although he’d seen everything already there’s a big difference between having Melody show me off over the knee, and being caught masturbating by Mr Hegedus. There was something about him that made his attention particularly intrusive. I was blushing furiously as I dug my bathrobe out of my case and struggled into it, and he must have noticed me doing this when he opened the door.
‘I’m sorry,’ I explained. ‘I was having a shower. Did you want me at the hotel?’
‘Not yet, no. But is your uniform good? Does it fit?’
‘I haven’t tried it on yet. I expect you want me to wear a decent one this evening?’
‘Oh, of course. Yes. The other is for special occasions.’
‘I’d guessed that. Um ... well, I’ll be down later, OK, about six?’
He was angling to be invited in, but he’d caught me off guard, leaving me unsettled. I was fairly sure he’d peeped in at the window too, which made me feel he’d taken advantage. When he saw I wasn’t letting him in he drew back, but hesitated, throwing a guilty glance back al
ong the walkway before he spoke again, his voice now wheedling. ‘Maybe baby needs a hot botty? I think she does, yes?’
I shut the door on him without bothering to answer. Another man I might have let in, and it wasn’t because he was older or ugly. I’ve always preferred older men. A father figure I suppose you could say, and my need had grown stronger since Dad had taken up with Danielle. Mr Hegedus wouldn’t do. He was too weak, and odd. The way he spoke to me when he wanted to get dirty was weird, and humiliating, as if I didn’t know my own mind but could be tricked into thinking I deserved spanking. Part of me wanted to do it, to let him make me feel small and stupid while I lay over his knee, with him gloating over his victory and perving over my bum. I knew he wouldn’t just spank me. He’d play with my cheeks, and if I stayed down he’d start taking liberties, maybe tickling my bumhole, maybe fingering me, maybe rubbing me off for the dirty thrill of having me come under his fat, pasty fingers ...
No. I was in control and I wasn’t going to surrender to him. I was going to get him back for the way he’d made me feel. He was still outside, I was sure of it, so I shut the curtain of the window by the door, then the ones on the other side, where the window looked out among trees and over a field, leaving just a crack. That way he could peep at me without risking being seen from the hotel, and I was sure he would.
It felt great. As I dropped my robe to go nude once more a shiver of pleasure ran through me, for being naughty, and because it felt a little dangerous too. I was teasing him, on purpose, and it was sure to get him horny. He’d be resentful as well as excited, and want to punish me and fuck me too, maybe bent down over my bed with his cock in me from behind while he slapped my cheeks and told me off for being a dirty little tease.
I was sure he didn’t have the guts, but it was lovely to think about it while I made a big show of towelling myself down, deliberately paying a lot of attention to my tits and pussy, even holding my cheeks open to dab between and make sure he got a peep at my bumhole. He was out there for certain, his shadow visible through the curtain, but I feigned innocence, quite sure he’d be getting off thinking I didn’t want him to see me, just as much as he’d be getting off over my body.
There was talc in my bag, and I made a point of bending down to get it out, with my bum stuck out at his window. A tall, thin mirror decorated the wall opposite my bed and I went to stand in front of it to put the talc on, doing under my arms and breasts, my neck and tummy, sticking my hips out to powder my pussy, and then extending my bottom to do between my cheeks. I could just imagine him, cock in his hand, full of guilt and dirty lust as he masturbated over the sight of me powdering my bottom slit.
Really, I was no better; enjoying the feel of my fingertip in the soft, powdery dimple of my bumhole, tickling to make my ring twitch and spreading my cheeks to inspect my rear view. I was soaking, my pussy lips pale and smooth, pinkish white where I’d powdered, but glistening and rosy in my slit, while the mouth of my bumhole showed as a tiny, moist star at the centre of my powdery ring.
I wanted my hairbrush up, and to walk about nude with it sticking out from between my cheeks, openly dirty. Then he’d have known what I was up to, or would he? Maybe he’d still think he was really spying on me and get an even bigger kick out of it because I was being a dirty little bitch, or maybe he’d just kick the door down, put me over his knee, pull the hairbrush out, spank me with it until I howled and then make me suck on the handle while he fucked me over the bed.
The thought was almost too much. My hand had gone to my pussy and I was cupping my mound with my bottom pushed out behind, thinking of how long it was since I’d been entered. All I had to do was open the door and I could get it; a fat, brown cock thrust up me for a good, hard fucking. He wasn’t right though, not for that, fine to watch me, to spank me, to fiddle with me and make me feel dirty and small, but not to fuck me.
I had to come anyway; I could no longer hold back. My hands were shaking as I went back to my pretence of innocently getting changed, but when I opened the wardrobe and saw the rude maid’s outfit hanging there I knew my orgasm wouldn’t be the same unless I dressed up. It took all my will power to do it, holding off from my need as I made a show of putting the uniform on. My stockings came first, each leg raised to the bed as I rolled them on and clipped my suspenders into place; making a point of checking that the tension was just right so that I could pose with my pussy and bum still bare between the nylon and lace of my undies. The froufrou panties followed; huge things that came right up to my waist but left most of my cheeks spilling out behind. I pulled them up tight to give myself what my American friends called a camel toe, with the white cotton taut over my shaved mound and caught in a furrow between my lips.
‘Camel toe cunt.’
My words sounded loud in the quiet of the chalet, and wonderfully dirty, bringing back memories of posing in little cut down jeans shorts to give the boys a thrill, or in nothing but tiny red bikini briefs pulled up tight between my cheeks while Penny spanked me. I looked just as sexy in my froufrous, and deliciously available, as if being in such a silly garment made it very clear that I could be pinched, and groped, and spanked.
If the front looked silly, the rear view was ridiculous, a great puff of frills sticking out over my bum, but see-through, so that my slit showed beneath, while the little lacy panel that covered the turn of my cheeks meant that when I bent over I was going to be showing pretty well everything. I was going to have to bend too, and I’d been taught to do it properly, from the hips with my back pulled in so my bottom sticks out, round and tempting with the bulge of my pussy peeping out from between my thighs.
I spent a while posing, but being topless spoilt the teasing effect so I hurried into the frilly underskirt, the dress and heels. With the laces done up at the front I actually had a little cleavage, which felt nice and looked the part, but I knew that wouldn’t be what Mr Hegedus wanted to see. Bum and pussy were more his style.
He was going to get plenty. Pausing only to put my hair up in a ponytail, I began to pose again, pretending I was serving at table and admiring the way my froufrous showed under my skirt as I bent with my bottom pushed out to the mirror. It was deliciously rude, with just a hint of my bumhole visible through the lace panel and the cotton cupping my pussy already wet where it was caught between my cheeks.
‘You dirty girl, Jemima. How what if they were pulled down, nice and slow.’
I was talking to myself, but for him, sure he’d be at bursting point if he hadn’t come already. My hands had gone back to take hold of my froufrous as I spoke, but I still wanted to tease and simply adjusted them to leave a little more cheek showing at each leg hole. Instead of taking them down I turned, holding up the front of my dress to show off my camel toe in the mirror, and to him.
‘That’s best, and knickers down at the back as if I’ve just been spanked, and my hairbrush ...’
That was how I wanted to come. A quick rummage in my case and I had my hairbrush; the long, round handle just right for eager little holes. I no longer cared if he’d realised I knew he was there, but stuck my bottom out towards the window as I began to peel my panties down.
‘Here you are, Mr Hegedus. Here’s what you want to see, my bare bum, knickers down, just like I’d be if you were going to spank me. You want to spank me, don’t you, Mr Hegedus? You want to spank me bare bottom over your knee, wriggling and kicking and ...’
I trailed off with a sigh. My bottom was bare and I could feel the cool air on my pussy lips. I could imagine his face, his eyes feasting on my naked bum and the wet pink hole between my thighs as I stuck it right out, showing him everything. A few firm smacks of the hairbrush got my cheeks rosy and left them tingling as I pushed the handle in, up my pussy, gasping as I filled myself. Now I was ready, perfectly ready.
‘Watch this, Mr Hegedus.’
Again I went to the mirror, but sideways on, so that I could see my bare bottom sticking out under the frills, with my froufrous in a tangle around my thighs, my s
uspender straps taught at the sides and the hairbrush sticking out from between my smacked cheeks. Up came the front to show off my camel toe to Mr Hegedus for just an instant before I gave in completely, grabbing my pussy and rubbing through the wet cotton as I jammed the hairbrush handle in and out of my hole from behind.
It happened almost immediately, the slow build-up of excitement bursting like a dam to leave me gasping and gulping in air, trying to spank myself and fuck myself at the same time, rubbing furiously at my sopping pussy through my panties and all the while imagining his fat brown cock spurting come as he brought himself off over my dirty behaviour, yearning for what I’d denied him but unable to stop himself.
My orgasm had only just begun to fade when a sudden, mischievous thought hit me. He might have heard what I’d said, or he might not, but either way he was sure to be riddled with guilt if I caught him peeping and had a go at him. The moment I could cope I jumped forward and snatched the curtain open, expecting to find him, staring and red in the face as he tossed off over my dirty little show.
He wasn’t there, but when I opened the window and leant out to make sure he wasn’t lurking nearby I realised he had been, and had been unable to hold back. On the flat concrete directly below my face was a little puddle of sticky white.
Chapter Three
My first week at the Friston Executive was more like being back at school than anything. I had to get up early, dress in my uniform and go through a routine that barely changed from day to day. The staff at the hotel weren’t so very different from the staff at school either, expecting me to do as I was told and generally behave myself. It would have to have been an old-fashioned school though, because I had Mr Hegedus constantly threatening to spank me, even to cane me. Not that he got the chance, because his wife seemed to have a pretty good idea of what he was like and was not about to let it happen.