The Unspoken Arrangement Ch1 A Change in Conditions
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The Unspoken Arrangement, Ch 3: Trained To Serve free porn video
CHAPTER 3: Trained to Serve
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The maid learns how to serve Mistress Tate
Each day, after Cecilia had finished practising his ladylike walking in
the posture bar, Mistress Tate would teach him a new household skill.
First she would sit him at the kitchen table and make him write down
her detailed instructions in his Maid's Notebook. From then on, he had
to perform his duties from memory. At the end of the day, they would
review his work against the standard set out in the notebook. Any
omissions or failures were punished. He soon became quite good at his
maid's duties.
The first day it was the laundry: the right types of treatment for
different fabrics; how to sort the items and load the machine; how to
hang a wash; how to fold the sheets and towels, and stack them in the
linen closet; how to iron her clothes and put them away neatly. He
learned how to hand-wash her bras and panties properly, and how to
arrange them in her underwear drawer.
Another morning he learned how to tidy Mistress' chambers: how to make
her bed; how she wanted the corners folded; how to fluff and set the
pillows; how to match the covers and the sheets. He learned how to tie
the curtains back elegantly; how to tidy her bedside table and her
vanity; how to manage her wardrobe and care for her shoes.
The housework seemed to be his favourite part. Whenever she made him
lift his dress for inspection -- which she did frequently, to remind
him of his situation -- she could see how his panty-bound erection was
pushing helplessly against the lower edge of his corset, unable to
become thoroughly stiff. This put hims in a constant state of
excitement, which seemed only to increase his enthusiasm for cleaning.
Gradually she taught him how to maintain the house to her standards,
from top to bottom. To control dust effectively, he had to begin with
the ceiling fixtures and work down. When dusting her collections of
china and glass ornaments, he was required to pick up each item, wipe
it gently with a clean damp cloth, set it carefully aside, wipe down
the exposed surface, and then replace it just where it had been. Before
vacuuming, he had to dust thoroughly along the baseboards and under the
furniture. As he vacuumed, he had to work his way out of the room to
leave everything as tidy as possible. Even though he did all of this in
the most ladylike manner, she could tell by his movements that his cock
was straining uncomfortably against his corset.
In the kitchen, he learned how to keep the refrigerator clean and
fresh, how to wash and dry and put away dishes, how to care for
appliances, how to scrub the floor, how to scour the oven, and how to
maintain the shelves and cupboards. He also learned how to prepare the
meals she liked, and the proper time and manner for serving them.
In the bathroom, he learned how to care for her toiletries; which
fragrances she liked and where to place them; how to prepare her bath;
how to warm her towels and bring them when required; how to bathe her;
how to dry her and mosturize her skin; how and when to present her
bathrobe; and of course, how to scrub the bathtub and the sink and the
toilet afterward, for which he had to wear pink rubber gloves.
Within a few weeks, her house was a model of tidiness and cleanliness,
maintained constantly by an attractive and obedient maid, who also
happened to be in the throes of sexual frustration. She supposed that
in his off hours he was masturbating regularly, but it didn't seem to
interfere with his work.
Even so, the work wasn't perfect. When she found fault with any aspect
of his performance, she made sure he knew about it. Sometimes she would
spank him, but more often she would give him a dressing-down.
One day, coming out the bathroom after a shower, she noticed that the
white cotton panties she had dropped in the hamper appeared to be
rearranged slightly. Examining them, she found a hair on the inside
that wasn't hers. It looked like a hair from his head.
She called him into her bedroom immediately. Holding up the panties,
she demanded, "Cecilia! Were you sniffing these while I was in the
shower?"
"No, Mistress Tate!", he protested. His anxiety was obvious.
"Are you sure? Because it seems like something you'd do - so pathetic,
so inadequate. Instead of just taking me in the shower, like a real
man. But then, you aren't a real man, are you? You're my maid." She
smirked. "And does a maid have sex with her mistress?"
Celilia swallowed. "No, Mistress Tate."
"'No, Mistress Tate!'", she mocked him. "So you sniff my panties
instead. I found one of your hairs inside them. This is yours, isn't
it?" She held it up.
Pointlessly, he examined it before saying, "Yes, Mistress Tate."
"You little pervert. I suppose you jerked off while you were sniffing
them."
"No, Mistress Tate," he protested again.
"A likely story. Cecilia, I don't care if you jerk off, but leave my
clothes out of it," she told him.
"Yes, Mistress Tate."
"From now on, when you jerk off it will be in front of me," she
informed him.
"Mistress Tate?" he said in disbelief.
"You heard me. I won't have you doing it behind my back. If you want to
masturbate, you can ask for my permission, and then you can do it while
I keep an eye on you. Would that embarrass you, Cecilia?"
He looked down. "I... Yes, Mistress Tate."
"I'm sure you'd come anyway," she laughed. "Now, if I see any more
signs of you jerking off without my permission, there will be serious
consequences. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mistress Tate."
"And don't think you're not being punished for sniffing my panties,
little missy, because you are," she added. "You'll find that out when
you ask for my permission to masturbate."
Besides being fun, this sort of treatment proved very effective. He
enjoyed the humiliation of being mocked and belittled. Sometimes she
wondered why. She thought it must be like a little death, a
mortification: an ecstasy, a way to lose oneself, to become an object
at the disposal of another's will. But mostly she just drew pleasure
from it. He was like a doll she could play with, or a mouse she could
toy with.
That was the word Heather had used when they talked about it over
coffee one day. Heather had a gorgeous body, and she liked to tease men
until they made fools of themselves. When Jennifer told her about her
new sissy maid husband, she showed more than polite interest. "Really?
If only I had that little mouse trapped between MY velvet paws! You
know what I'd do?" Jennifer listened closely to her friend's erotic
reverie. It certainly gave her ideas.
Heather also let it be known that she would be happy to come and help
mortify him any time. "I'd love that," said Jennifer, "but you'll have
to wait a little. He needs to be in a proper uniform." The uniform was
now her main concern. Under her firm and careful training, his
movements were now so graceful that most of the time he seemed to be a
woman. Only the wretched Hallowe'en maid's outfit gave him away.
But when the fitted corset and the twin English Maid uniforms finally
did arrive, she didn't tell him. Instead, she called Heather. "His new
clothes came this morning. I want to give him a proper coming-out as an
English Maid, and I was hoping you could come for afternoon tea."
"Thanks, Jenn, that sounds wonderful. I'm a little busy, but maybe this
weekend? Does Sunday work for you?"
"Sunday? No, her name's Cecilia, and yes, she does work for me."
"Ha! Good one," laughed Heather.
"Sure, Sunday's fine. See you four-ish?"
"I'll be there," promised Heather.
"Wear something sexy," suggested Jennifer.
"Well, of course!" Heather assured her. "After all, what girl doesn't
want to look pretty?"
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