Coffee making was a trembling agony of decision making for Eden.
He knew how they all preferred their coffees, but should he bring the cream in a jug or pour it in to the cups now before he left the kitchen? Obviously, he would put the sugar bowl on the tray, but there again he knew exactly how much sugar each preferred so could drop it into the cups here and now.
In fact, should he be using the china cups, rather than mugs?
If it were all on the tray, then one slip while opening a door could cascade the entire contents all over the floor in a dark steaming mess. God, it could even stain the carpets and rugs!
Few appreciate the dilemma of a maid fearful of further punishment – until they find themselves in that fearsome position. It’s not all about posing in a nice uniform.
Marcus had some dilemmas of his own as he watched the sexy girls dance on a rock music channel. Erika was sluttily in need of his attention, curling her legs beneath her on the chair whilst emitting a low groan. Thankfully, with the maid out of the room Alicia had relaxed. The copious amounts of alcohol she drunk probably helped her disposition. But he would have to be wary of her. He didn’t want her to bolt back to university in shock. She was now the bedrock of Marcus’ plan.
The dumb cuckold would regret not apologising, even when told to . He would regret it for the rest of his days. Fore ever he would ensure he was always polite and well mannered, even to a child.
The door was knocked.
Marcus said, “Enter.”
Only Alicia glanced up to see the timid maid entering the room with eyes the size of tennis balls, the mistress’ eyes were firmly on the Master. Whereas the Master of the House kept staring at the erotic dancers.
Eden hoovered in breath for courage as he said, “Your coffees Master.”
“Put them on the table. Hand them out to everyone.”
Eden wrinkled his nose with irritation. Did no one appreciate his efforts in making the coffees? It was as if he was invisible. Not a single thank you, and no comments. Never again would he take a waitress or maid for granted.
The tremor of his hand as he poured the cream for Alicia before delivering the coffee to the teenager, did not lead to any dreadful calamity. But he was guarding against over confidence. Serve the coffees and get out.
“You know maid,” the Master of the House was saying, almost to himself, “I think Miss Alicia may have been too kind to you.”
The maid’s eyes widened even more. Oh my God, what was the Master on about?
Nevertheless, despite his qualms, he was able to deliver the black coffee with half a sugar to his wife without his shaking hand spilling the liquid.
Marcus carried on, as if thinking aloud, “You weren’t that long in the corner.” He sniffed. “ And we never set a bedtime for you, did we?”
“A bedtime, Master?” Eden stood bolt upright as a video finished and the room fell into silence before the bass energy of the next song began.
“Of course. We need you up early in the morning for your chores, so we need to put you to bed early.”
Alicia held her coffee to her lips, feeling the heat on her nose. She was frozen by the extraordinary conversation before her. Surely her dad would stand up for himself.
Yes, he was about to speak. Alicia felt relief. Finally!
“But Master, I hope you don’t mind me saying so,” Eden began, his voice squeaking with fear, “But I am always up early to prepare your breakfasts and orange juice.”
The Master shook his head, “Dumb bitch.”
Marcus sighed and continued, “What you can’t get your empty little head around is that one day you mightn’t. I have to ensure that won’t happen. Your bedtime from now on will be nine o’clock.”
Erika watched her husband’s jaw drop with helpless shock. Her pussy squeezed out even more sticky fluid into her already uncomfortably damp panties.
Alicia still hadn’t sipped the coffee that remained millimetres from her lips.
“Nine o’clock, Master? But Master, I …” he needed an excuse. Why did his brain always cease up when speaking to this effortlessly, dominant male? “Master, I won’t have time to clear up the kitchen after dinner.”
“You really are an airhead aren’t you, maid?”
Bass thumping music filled the room, how could Eden answer that question before his own daughter?
He was saved by the Master pointing out, “If you are up at six then you have plenty of time to clear up everything before you attend to our breakfast.”
Blinking his eyes quickly in terror, Eden was about to say, ‘But Master’ when he actually said, “Yes, Master.”
Infuriatingly to Eden, the Bull always seemed to have a sound reason for everything.
“Of course,” the Master continued, “if you are good, then I may let you stay up a little later.”
Eden swallowed, “Erm, thank you Master.”
This was not the time to debate with the Master. Especially not in front of Alicia. Eden rarely won any of their discussions – in fact he couldn’t think of a single time he had come out on top in a discussion with the Bull, even when they first met.
“Yes, but there again, if you are naughty, as you were tonight, especially in front of guests,” the Master nodded towards Alicia, who remained as immovable as a stone statue with her coffee hovering before her lips. “Then I will send you to bed earlier.”
Erika closed her eyes with sheer gasping sexual need. At that moment, if the Master merely touched her then she would explode in an orgasm with the power of a rocket leaving the Earth.
Eden was in shock, he thinks he is nodding but doesn’t know, and certainly hasn’t got a clue how to respond to this fresh development. Demonstrably, he ought not debate the issue right now, but wait until the Master of the House and he were alone.
“What do you think, Mistress of the House,” Marcus asked the slut of the wife of Eden. “That all seem fair? Or do you think nine o’clock is a bit late?”
A bit late! Eden turned on his heels to stare desperately at his wife. For some reason, Erika appeared as is she were about to drop off to sleep. When she finally spoke, she was breathless.
“I leave these matters to the Master of the House,” she said.
“Ok.” The Bull nodded and turned to the dazed teenager, looking so sexy in her tight jeans and tee shirt. “Miss Alicia, how about you?”
She was lost for words and sought visual assistance from her mother. But her look was only exchanged with a half lidded, stupefied expression denoting nothing. She knew she had to respond to the commanding male.
“Well, Master. I think …”
Eden held his breath hoping against hope that his daughter would save him by knocking the bedtime idea on its head.
“… nine does sound a bit early.”
Eden didn’t know what to think. ‘A bit early? ‘. What? It was crazy! He wasn’t a child!
Marcus had scored! He got her! The daughter was now involved with discussions about her own dad’s bedtime. Marcus wanted to laugh out loud, but he kept a straight face as he said:
“A bit early you think?” He rubbed his unshaven rough chin. “So what time do you think would be appropriate for the maid’s bedtime?”
Eden looked expectantly at Alicia, please let her say eleven, or something reasonable.
The teenager was shaken. How the fuck could she know? But the Master of the House had actually asked her! As if her opinion was important. She was no longer a child in the household, but someone invited to form a view on a matter pertaining to the home.
“I don’t know, really. I mean nine sounds a bit early. When I was ten, I was allowed to stay up until ten.”
The Bull nodded and smiled. “Good point.”
Brilliant, the Master thought, even the daughter is using references to children now for her own father. Outwardly he half closed his eyes and nodded, as if mulling over the ‘good point’, inwardly he knew where he was heading.
“But ten is far too late for a busy maid.” He suppressed a sadistic grin as he added, “maybe fine for a ten year old, but I can’t help feeling that’s a tad too late for a domestic. How about we say bedtime’s nine thirty for the maid? Then we’ll see how we get on.”
There was a compelling quality about this masculine brute of a man that made Alicia desperate to agree with him. After all, had the Master of the House not asked for her views? Had he not contemplated her response? In fact, he had adjusted his own view after hearing her observations.
So she replied, “Yes Master. That sounds wise.”
“Excellent!” The Bull proclaimed. “Miss Alicia, you are adapting to your new responsibilities as if you have been a mistress all your life.”
Alicia giggled and finally rewarded herself with a sip of the coffee.
“So, maid,” the Bull said to the still stunned Eden, “aren’t you going to thank Miss Alicia for allowing you to stay up until nine thirty? Wasn’t that good of her?”
God! This was crazy. “Erm, yes Master, but please may we have a little word. You know, in private. If you are not too busy? Master?”
“Not right now maid, I’m watching the telly. But I tell you what, if you are still awake when I come up then we’ll have a little chat. How about that?”
The bastard! He could have spared Eden a couple of damned minutes so Eden could outline the pitfalls of him being sent to bed. “Yes Master. Thank you Master.”
The Bulls face darkened, and Eden brought his hands together defensively over his apron.
“Maid! I thought you were told to thank someone?”
This just couldn’t be happening. But like other humiliating punishments meted out by the Master of the House, it was best over with quickly.
He turned to face his daughter and with bowed head, said, “Miss Alicia, thank you.”
No reaction. Alicia looked at the Bull, unsure as how to respond.
Marcus groaned. “Dumb maid. What are you thanking her for?”
“Oh yes!” Eden said.
Eden often felt relief when the Master of the House helped him by explaining exactly what he should say or do. Less chance of punishment if he got it wrong.
Still not able to raise his eyes to his daughter, Eden said, “Thank you Miss Alicia for allowing me to stay up until …”
Roaring, gut burning shame.
How could he finish the sentence?
A welcoming thought rose optimistically to his mind. Just say it now, avoid a dreadful punishment and then explain it all to Alicia later.
So he continued, with a dry mouth but eyes becoming increasingly damp.
“Miss Alicia, thank you for allowing me to stay up until nine thirty.”
The teenager felt pity for the poor maid but she adopted a smile.
“That’s alright. You are welcome.”
Surely the ordeal was over now.
The maid, still with her chin on her chest said.
“Master. May I be excused? So that I can do some tidying and have a coffee myself?”
“Leave the tidying until tomorrow. You were naughty in the dining room when you spilled wine like the dumb maid you are. And you were bratty in here, having to be told to thank Miss Alicia.”
What? This was outrageous. Eden had complied with every instruction!
“For that reason,” the Bull glanced at his watch, “You shall be in bed in ten minutes. Eight thirty. An hour early for being naughty and disrespectful.”
Knowing she now had power in the new household hierarchy, Alicia said, “Master. It’s all right. Really. I don’t mind.”
“No, Alicia, you can’t be too soft on the domestic servants. They will really take advantage. “So off you go to bed, maid. And I don’t want a peep from you until I see you tomorrow.”
This was outrageous. Worse, should he say ‘yes Master’ or silently leave?
He chose the latter heading for the safety of the kitchen where he couldn’t be bullied. But after he turned off the oven’s extractor and kitchen lights he was totally fuming. This was all wrong. So unfair! Not least he hadn’t meant to be disrespectful! It just sorta happened.
It was only when he was tucked up in bed, in the nightie and panties allowed to him by the Master and Mistress of the House, that his rage gave way to anger at himself. If only he hadn’t spilled the wine, he wouldn’t have ended up in the corner. If only he had spoken to his daughter properly, then he might still be downstairs, enjoying his coffee.
Oh! He must improve as a maid.
At some point he realised he was rubbing his tiny, unyielding chastity cage through his silky panties. He was groaning in a need that could never be fulfilled.
He twisted over, dragging a pillow between his bare smooth thighs and humped it. Despite his brain being foggy with need he remembered his master’s instructions about how he was to wank from now on and hauled a second pillow between his legs. Now his arse was pushed self consciously high. But his need was too great to let the shame stop him. He grinded away at the pillows, feeling himself soak his panties in useless precum.
As he did so, the mantras slowly rolled into his main and he looked at the laptop oblivious as to whether it was on or off, not knowing if the Master was checking on him.
“Thank you Master … I adore you Master ….” A load groan. Oh, if only he could cum. “I adore you Master. I ….”
It was to be a long night for poor Eden. A maid unable to cum, yet dominated and in need, would do anything to be unlocked. Sleep was a merciful release from his torment.