Being on your best behaviour you would think would be perfectly straight forward. All Eden had to do was be obedient, polite and deferential while serving the dinner he had made of salmon and vegetables.
Eden realised that the Master of the House had been absolutely correct when he pointed out that giving the maid a red hot, sore bottom would concentrate her mind. Though the results of the spanking were also distracting and could lead to below par work. After all his flaming buttocks rubbed against the nylon of the tights, and the trousers were so constricting that whenever he leaned forward his clothing seemed to abrasively grind over his sore buttocks, like sand paper.
Preparing the meal had involved a few oohs and one or two squeals, every time the maid moved.
Obviously, he took full care to ensure that the plates were hot, a particular requirement of the Master of the House, and that the white wine, for the Mistress of the House, was chilled.
The red wine, for the Master, had been opened for almost two hours to breathe, Eden had checked the clock when he did so, just in case the Master asked how long it had been opened.
The table was laid to perfection, with various glasses for wine and water, side by side, and cutlery placed perfectly around the table mats, like a photo in an advert for dining ware.
He had turned off the main light of the dining room and turned on the uplighters, something his wife, Erika, insisted up on for a meal.
Satisfied that all is in place, he nibbled his lip as double checked all the points of the dinner, before using the dining room bell to summon the diners.
Again, all went well.
Eden held his breath as he stood to onside of the door, hands behind back, shoulders pulled rearwards making his A sized bra push out his pretend breasts. He kept his head bowed.
The Master had whispered something to Erika as she entered, making her burst out with a spluttering guffaw. How Eden wished he was permitted to know what they said to each other in private.
As they took their places at either end of the impeccably set table, so the Master and Mistress of the house took out their napkins and laid them over their laps.
Oh! The Master of the house had glanced across to Eden making the poor maid hold her breath in trepidation. Was something out of place?
“Maid, summon the young miss. The family must dine together.”
“Yes Master, of course Master.”
Using the bell to ring up the stairs, Eden raised his voice, but only slightly, not wishing to offend the Master before his meal.
“Oh, Miss Alicia? Miss Alicia? Dinner is served.”
Silence from upstairs. Oh no. Would Eden get in to trouble for not bringing her down?
Louder, more firmly, “Miss Alicia?”
Then a door opened, music was heard, which was immediately turned off. The door slammed shut and Alicia descended the stairs in her tight jeans and tee shirt, breasts bouncing.
“For God’s sake, dad! I heard you the first time!”
She pushed passed the maid with a disparaging tut.
Eden opened his mouth to remonstrate with the little madam when he just caught himself. His eyes went straight to the Master of the House, who raised his eyebrows in the maid’s direction. As if saying, do not dare!
And of course, Eden didn’t dare. His bottom was already tender.
Inwardly, Eden seethed. Here he was locked up in the constricted chastity, feeling his body and tights grip and compress him into shape, with his humiliating curly blonde hair. Worse, he wasn’t even permitted to tell his own daughter to behave herself with guests present.
Taking the chair nearest Eden, so that her back was to her father, ensuring she didn’t have to look at him, she slumped back and looked at the dinner before her. Exhaling a sigh rich in contempt for the adults, she kept her eyes on her plate.
Marcus was pissed off with the young lady’s conduct, but hid it behind a friendly smile.
“Maid, pour the wine.”
Eden felt as if at any moment he might let the cold, slippery bottle slide from his hands leaving it to crash to the floor. His tummy was in knots as he poured for the Mistress of the House first, as he had been instructed.
“Thank you, maid,” Erika said, grinning at Marcus.
He then tentatively poured wine into the Master’s glass, his hand shaking.
All eyes were on the nervous maid as he held the bottle over Alicia’s glass.
Should he ask if she wanted a drink? Dare he speak?
“For God’s sake Dad. I’ll pour my own!”
She snatched the bottle from the shocked maid’s grasp.
The Bull flicked a few fingers at Eden who knew instantly what was required of him. He stepped back from the table and put his hands behind his back to await the next instruction. Thankfully Alicia was looking away from him, yet it didn’t hide his burning shame.
Actually, the meal went well.
Marcus told a few stories, that, with the wine flowing freely, went down well. Alicia found herself giggling at this macho male’s exuberant confidence. He no longer seemed the irritating ogre she had met earlier that day.
Rather his self-assurance made her feel at ease, and she laughed freely at humorous story after story.
When she told a tale of her own, from her first week in college, the Master of the House was all ears. Hanging onto every word. Even when she messed up the ending, he laughed before adding a witty quip.
Soon the room was a lively cauldron of laughter and incessant chatter.
How frustrating for the maid, to stand aside and not even be permitted to speak. Indeed, with his bottom already aching from the afternoon’s spanking, he dared not even laugh. This was a nightmare! He was little more than an object for the use of those indulging in their meal.
Oh My god.
The Master of the House had called out to him twice! He was so adrift in his own selfish misery that he hadn’t heard the summons.
The Bull was holding up the empty wine bottle.
“Yes, Master, straight away master.”
He fled the raucous room , heading for the wine cooler fridge in the corner of the kitchen.
He took out another bottle and kept saying to himself to slow down. Oh, God, if his trembling hands dropped it then there would be all hell to pay!
So, to calm himself down he paused at the kitchen door, eyes closed, shoulders pulled back so far back he could feel the straps dig into his flesh. He slowed to a deliberate amble, carrying the bottle warily in both hands.
Back in the dining room Alicia was giggling about a boy she met at college who was too nervous to ask her out.
The thought of his daughter being asked out at college by all sorts of guys turned Eden’s tummy. He placed the bottle on a side table and unscrewed the icy top.
Alicia said, “I mean, how can I look up to a guy like that?”
The Master of the House, barked, “What a pussy”
And both women laughed.
Steeling himself to work diligently, he poured the Mistress of the House’s glass first, but she was to besot with the Bull to even notice. He then replenished the Master’s glass, again being ignored.
What should he do about Alicia’s glass?
Holding his breath, he hovered the bottle over the glass but didn’t pour.
Impatiently, Alicia said, “Just pour it, will you?”
Despite being spoken to like that, it came as a relief for the maid to be told what to do. Eden poured the glass and took the bottle back to the small table.
He felt as if he had won a gold medal at the Olympics. Success!
“Stand to attention, maid,” the Master barked.
Oh! Eden had completely forgotten himself. In his relief at performing his duties correctly he had totally forgotten himself and relaxed. He stood, with shoulders back, hands behind back.
Alicia laughed, “I could get used to having a maid.”
“Exactly,” the Bull said, leaning towards her, “Who wouldn’t.”
“Just, it seems kinda crazy. You know. Your own dad skipping around in his maid get up,” she mimicked a sissy, “’Oh please may I open the door for you.’ ‘Please may I close it for you’.” She giggled. “I mean, like, you know?”
“I did explain all this to you earlier, young lady,” the Master of the House pointed out.
“Oh yeh. Sure. The immersive experience and everything. And we all gotta contribute. Yeh, I guess so. But it’s all a bit weird, you know?”
Erika said, “You’ll get used to it. Just think, no more ironing.”
Alicia laughed. “No more ironing? Wow! I buy that!”
Erika looked to her Master for approval. She knew how much Alicia despised ironing. She could be a bit of a slob at times, hence the state of her room. But troublingly, the Master’s attention was fully on her daughter.
Finally, Marcus smiled back at his slut. But he was smiling because his own plan was slotting in to place. Yup! The cuck’s wife got it! The dumb arsed maid was slipping down the pecking order in the household. And the dumb fuck had a good deal further to fall.
The Bull felt an erection swell in his pants. He loved winning and would do whatever it took to gain first prize.
He looked at his new sought after first prize, the eighteen year old daughter of the man he had spanked and put into his place as a maid.
“You know, young lady,” he began.
“God, I love it when you call me that. Young lady!” She laughed and held up her already drained glass shaking it in the air.
Eden’s eyes widened. Eh? Oh. It required refilling.
He stepped forward and meticulously dispensed some wine slowly into the moving glass. He didn’t want to let a drop fall onto the table cloth, the consequences would be too dreadful to contemplate.
When it was full, Alicia snatched the glass away , took a slurp before placing the glass on the table. She rested her chin on her palm, her elbow on the table and stared into the dreamy eyes of this dominant male.
“You were saying? ‘Young lady’, you said,” she giggled.
Eden was annoyed. She shouldn’t have her elbows on the table. That was a complete no-no in his household.
“Yeh,” the Bull said, “you just do whatever you are comfortable with. Nothing more. The maid is my responsibility.”
Stealing a quick glance over her shoulder at the bowed head of the maid, Alicia blushed.
“That sounds fair, I guess,” the teenager said. Her eyes narrowed with mischief, “So I gotta call you, Master, yes?”
“That’s it. And the Mistress of the House is addressed as Mistress or Mistress of the House.”
Laughing, Alicia did a finger wave at her mother, “Hi Mistress of the House!”
“And I’m, what? The princess round here?”
“If you want,” Marcus smiled. “But you should be Miss Alicia to the maid, but Alicia to the rest of us. How does that sound?”
“Hmm.” She slid her wine glass around on the tablecloth watching the golden fluid rise and fall around the glass. “Maybe. I don’t know yet.”
“Fair enough!” Boomed the Bull as if a decision had been reached.
Erika, leaned towards her daughter, “It would be much easier if we all followed the same plan you know.”
Nodding, Alicia said, “I know.”
“Maid!” the Master of the House said, “fill the glasses. Let us have a drink to those courageous enough to take on responsibility!”
Jumping to life, Eden, began by filling his wife’s glass with his shaking hand. When would this ordeal be over, and he could retreat to the safety and security of the kitchen? The kitchen was a wonderfully safe place for a maid, the Master and Mistress only using it for breakfast and occasionally lunch.
Why the following occurred, would dwell on Eden’s mind for a long time afterwards.
Perhaps it was these comforting thoughts that distracted Eden. Perhaps it was the fact that he was following the chat about nomenclature without being able to put in his own thoughts. It could have been the frustrations of feeling invisible to those around the table whom he served.
Maybe it was his outfit, whose gripping, silky tightness erotically reminded him of his station with every move. Maybe it was his tiny chastity cage from which he knew there was no escape without the Master of the House releasing him.
Few realise the many tortuous thoughts that fill a maid’s mind, distracting her from tasks in hand. No wonder most maids are continuously punished throughout the day.
What ever the reason, then it happened.
So it was that Eden leaned over and made to pour wine into the glass of his daughter, now Miss Alicia, when she raised the glass up, ostensibly to help the maid by taking it closer to the bottle.
The glass went in one direction, the wine in the other.
In slow motion the golden liquid poured onto Miss Alicia’s plate, splashing onto her tee shirt.
Eden was so mortified that he couldn’t think what to do. So the wine continued to pour as if the maid was frozen into inaction.
“Maid!” Barked the Bull. “Stop!”
Eden righted the bottle and began jabbering, barely coherently.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Alicia. I didn’t mean to. Really.” He stared terrified at the Master of the House. “Should I get a cloth, Master?”
As if saddened by the maid’s incompetence, Marcus simply shook his head, and spoke quietly, like a headmaster disappointed with a pupil on open day. “Girl, you have caused enough trouble for one day. Go and stand in the corner.”
With that Marcus raised his own napkin to dab at the pools of wine on the table.
Eden was frozen to the spot. What, the corner? Now? In front of Alicia? Surely not! The Master of the House had made a mistake.
Eden couldn’t stand shamefully in the corner before his own daughter.
So the bewildered husband stood, open mouthed and wide eyed, as now Erika joined the dabbing of the fluid pooling around Alicia.
Marcus paused for a moment to look at the agitated maid.
“Girl? Do I need to repeat myself?”
Oh God, that terrifying low tone the Bull used when emphasising a point to the maid. It was quiet. Determined. A sort of don’t mess with me, I don’t expect to be disobeyed.
“No Master. It’s just that … I thought ….”
Then the chilling glare from the Master’s dark eyes. That look that instantly put an end to any talking back.
Placing the bottle carefully on the table, Eden, in mind numbing shock walked slowly towards the corner of the dining room. Surely there had been some inadvertent mistake on the part of the Master of the House.
Soon they would all realise the error and how they would all laugh when Eden reached the corner.
But there was no laughter. As the light blue paint of the walls filled his view, as his shadow grew large against the wall, he found himself inches from the stonework.
Surely now, the Master of the House would demand to know what the maid was doing standing in the corner like a naughty child and haul her back. How they would all laugh at Eden’s silliness.
“Hands on head, girl!”
His fingers threaded themselves into his blonde curls.
What? He was really to stand in the corner?
Before his family? He felt sick.
“Legs straight girl! Quickly!”
Eden brought his legs together in the tight trousers, staring with horror at the miniscule lumps in the wall.
He heard his heart thumping in his chest beneath the figure controlling, girly underwear.
He was in a nightmare over which he had no control.
Incongruously, his little dick tried to inflate and pumped out a little precum into his panties. Now he was wet and uncomfortable as well as mortifyingly helpless before his entire family.