Jane is Trained to Submit Ch. 02

The Clients

She stood almost to attention in Margaret's kitchen, as though she were a dutiful and innocent girl-scout.

'You look very smart for a Sunday morning. Overdressed, or are you trying to make a point? Perhaps you should have come to the party dressed like that. But of course, you needed to present yourself as a willing slut, to get the boys,' Margaret jeeringly said.

Jane felt foolish and apprehensive. This woman could crush her good reputation by revealing that sordid episode. There was nothing that could be said to defend herself, so she kept silent. She looked crestfallen, with eyes averted, unable to face the tormentor.

'You can change into the maids uniform. You did bring it back, didn't you?' Margaret asked.

'Yes . . . Ma'am,' Jane answered.

She hesitated over using the humbling term with a neighbour and social inferior. It was hoped the neighbour had calmed down, and ease off humiliating her. There again, she needed that damn pill to avoid the horrendous prospect of becoming pregnant from when the woman's son took her.

'I'm glad you didn't steal it, like my jewellery,' Margaret chided her victim.

'I didn't . . .' she began to reply.

'Don't try to deny anything you did last night. My son told me all about it. Are you a kleptomaniac? I need to know, if you're going to work here as my maid,' Margaret haughtily stated.

'No! It was all a mistake, honest, ma'am,' Jane protested.

The harridan's words sank in, that she was expected to work as a maid. The objectionable idea cut short the protest. How could this offensive woman expect her to work as a humble maid? Especially for the likes of her!

If anything, Jane had a higher status in the community, yet she was to be treated like a lowly servant. The woman actually used a supercilious tone of voice to rub in their new relationship. As much as she tried, it was impossible to gain say the idea. There was a need within her to be punished, and if this was it, so be it.

'You entered my home dressed like a slut, danced lewdly with teenagers, tried to steal my jewellery, then screwed my son to keep him quiet,' Margaret rebuked her, with a wagging finger.

The list of transgressions was growing, as it would all the more, if the squalid story became subject to common gossip. Jane's shoulders sagged, and she stifled a sob. How could she refuse this woman's punishment, however humiliating it might be. She needed that damn pill!

'Sorry, ma'am,' Jane murmured.

The words were entirely inadequate for how she felt. Shouting her innocence was pointless, as Margaret made it clear her mind was made up, with nothing else to be said. She shuffled her feet awkwardly, willing to change into the cheap nylon garment as an excuse to escape from the tormentor. Before she could back away to the spare bedroom to change, Margaret started to harangue her again.

'What does that make you?' she asked. 'I mean, giving your body to my son to cover up a theft. What does that make you? I want to know you understand your position here,' she goaded.

'A bad person. I'm a stupid slut, ma'am. . . ' Jane broke off with tears in her eyes. It was only too true. She felt it hit hard. How stupidly and how badly she had behaved nagged at her. What was so damning is that she enjoyed the sex.

'Continue!' Margaret quietly said.

She was intensely watching the woman physically shrinking before her. In two minds whether to let go, or push harder, she reminded herself of what this woman had done to her business. Her opinion hardened enough to decide on grinding her down.

Jane took a deep breath, ready to declare her repentance. 'I'm a disgusting slut, ma'am. Undeserving of your forgiveness. Ready to be punished for my wrongdoing, and be your humble servant, ma'am.'

Margaret was stunned. How could this woman be so pathetic? She was old fashioned, highly moral, and self-important. Yet here she was, debasing herself. Maybe that was it. She had shocked herself so deeply, she needed to be chastised for that dirty behaviour last night. Well, she would help her out, by rubbing her nose in the dirt.

'Off you go then, maid. Don't dawdle, maid!' Margaret sarcastically spoke.

Margaret made a show of shooing her away with a dismissive wave of a hand. It was so amusing having this arrogant neighbour at her mercy, that she decided to make full use of her. Not the she expect this new found humbleness to last long. It was surprising the woman had buckled under so easily, though she was sure to rebel sooner or later. In the meantime it would be interesting to see how low she was willing to crawl.

Jane prepared lunch, served it to her mistress, cleaned up the kitchen, then returned for further directions. Receiving a constant stream of precise instructions, as though she were a simpleton, wore her down. Jane stood before the tough woman, looking down at her feet, feeling sorry for herself. In reparation she was ready to obey the humblest of orders. The demeaning position of neighbours maid, was indeed a punishment.

She began to realise the humbling retribution was going to be dragged out over the whole weekend. The embarrassment couldn't be endured any longer than that. She missed what Margaret said while daydreaming, her only means of escaping the dreadful woman.

'Pay attention! You are to prepare dinner for a prospective client. Nothing fancy. Just home cooking, because men appreciate it when away from home. You will serve us this evening. Don't worry! He's from out of town, so won't recognise you,' Margaret smiled.

'You will be on your best behaviour, serving as my humble maid to impress him. Do you understand?'

'Yes, ma'am,' Jane dutifully answered.

She didn't like the idea of being shown up in front of someone, though, as he was a stranger it would be less of a burden.

'That cheap thing will have to go. This morning I bought something more suitable to your duties,' Margaret stated. 'Follow me,' she brusquely added.

In a spare bedroom, Jane stripped off the cheap overall. The nervousness of being naked in front of a neighbour, was made worse on catching sight of the clothes. It was certainly a maid's outfit, though more suited to a porn movie than a dinner party.

The dress fitted her well, too well. It confirmed rumours that Margaret used nefarious methods to gain new business. Being used in a sordid plan to distract some businessman with her body was reprehensible.

The little black dress would have just about covered her thighs, except it was held up by stiff layers of petticoats. She could feel how tightly the sheer panties clung to her cheeks. In the mirror she could see a strip of nylon stretched over her labia. Black stockings were held up by suspender belts gripping her thighs. The white petticoats bounced around her upper thighs, with the flared black dress floating on top.

A built in corset crushed her waist, squeezing her breasts into a deep cleavage, with the nipples threatening to peak over the top. The ensemble was finished off with a starched white cap, collar, apron, cuffs, and an ostentatious garter above the knee. The black shiny high heels left her legs looking long and glamorous.

She shuddered, from imagining some old, paunchy businessman, ogling her body all through dinner. On high heels the sheer panties would be level with the tabletop, looking as though her sex was about to be served. When she leaned over to serve him, her breasts would be in his face. Serving her mistress would mean showing off her bottom in clinging sheer panties.

The poor guy would certainly be distracted from boring business details, and would probably be ready to sign anything after dinner. The degrading performance would have to be endured. At all costs her sordid secret had to be kept from friends, neighbours, and especially her daughter.

Jane was overcome by an icy shudder. At all costs the shameful gossip would have to be avoided, though where should the line be drawn? How far would she go to protect Louise?

'Ma'am,' Jane quietly spoke, seeking attention.

'Maid?' she shot back.

'The pill, you promised!' Jane hesitantly spoke.

'You had better take it now, before it's too late,' Margaret scolded her. She rummaged around in her purse, and threw a package at the maid.

Jane missed, and scrabbled on the floor at her mistresses feet. She looked up at her tormentor, with a clear look of relief. 'Thank you, ma'am,' she said, with relief.

***

Jane furtively looked at the man, yet again. This was no middle aged businessman she was serving. The visitor was around her own age, and very handsome. Noticing his glass was empty she rushed to fill it with wine. He smiled at her in way of thanks, again looking her in the eye, rather than ogling her body. It was a pleasure to meet a mature minded man, who didn't talk to her breasts, especially when they were so obviously on show.

Mathew couldn't help noticing how seductively the maid was dressed, though wisely kept his thoughts to himself. Both women were giving him their full attention, most obviously for the same reason. Margaret wanted to gain new business from him. From past experience he knew she was adept at making a man feel important, and at the same time, relaxed in her company. He wondered why she had bothered to arrange for this lasciviously dressed woman to serve them.

The meal was over and Jane returned from the kitchen with another bottle of wine. She discreetly kept a glass for herself. A drop or two was needed to numb the embarrassment of being dressed like a porn movie maid. At last the ordeal was almost at an end. There was just the kitchen and dining room to be tidied up, after which she could escape home.

"Jane, you can leave the cleaning for later. You're to make up the spare bedroom for Mathew," Margaret ordered.

At least she spoke to her in a more civilised tone in front of Mathew.

'Yes, Ma'am,' Jane replied, and curtsied. Once out of the room she giggled, from committing the unconscious act of curtsying to her mistress. It was funny how easily they both slid into the roles of servant and mistress after such a short time. The threat hanging over her, and a few glasses of wine, helped her accept the humble role.

'The bedroom is ready, ma'am,' Jane announced.

Again she dipped slightly, while wondering if she was going too far. Her answer came, in the form of a big smile from her mistress. Unaccountably she felt pleased at this sign of approval. She had fallen in with the woman's plan so as to win approval, hoping for early release from punishment. What she hadn't bargained for was how easy it was to adopt the role so fully.

'Show him where to go. Mathew could do with a massage after a hard week of travelling. Wouldn't you Mathew?' Margaret asked.

She had prompted him earlier, suggesting that the maid would be happy to oblige. It was touch and go whether Jane would accept. The stupid woman had been secretly drinking in the kitchen, with signs of loosening up somewhat. She no longer habitually pulled at the dress, trying to keep it in order. It was hoped the noticeable attraction, almost amounting to silent flirting, would also help persuade her to oblige him.

Jane looked appalled. She screwed up her face, trying to appeal for clemency. Surely she was merely being tested, and there would be a way out of this.

'I'm not sure, Ma'am. I don't think I can, ma'am,' she said, trying to squirm free of the order.

'She's learning the skill, so don't expect too much, will you?' Margaret said.

'That's an excellent idea. My back is aching after be scrunched in aircraft seats for so long. I don't mind you practising on me,' he smiled at her.

A knowing look passed between the two women. Jane bowed her head in submission, confirming she would carry out yet another order to avoid a greater humiliation in front of the stranger. The demon was sure to have some nasty torment up her sleeve.

Margaret smiled at Jane, pleased with herself for winning another victory over the stupid woman.

In great trepidation, Jane took a deep breath, desperately trying to remember all she could about massage sessions. Receiving a massage at a fitness centre was a different game to giving one.

He walked into the bedroom from a shower, and laid face down on the bed. A pillow under his chest was a substitute for a proper table with a hole in it for his face. Jane was trying to control her breathing.

'Don't be nervous, just think of it as another practice routine,' he encouraged.

Jane's eyes were drawn from his wide shoulders, down a strong muscular back, to the towel carelessly laying over his cute bottom. Shaking herself awake, she leaned over him with a tube of warm oil. A dribble ran down the middle of his back, to disappear under the towel. She almost lifted the towel to wipe the excess away.

Fingertips of both hands fluttered over his spine, up and down for long moments. Open, flat hands stroked his back, smoothing in the fragrant oil. She was soon absorbed in fluid motions firmly massaging his legs and feet. The feel of his hard muscles, and the silky smoothness of his skin became ever more sensuous as the initial nervousness faded.

It was a bed, not a professional table, so she couldn't reach his head and shoulders properly, and wondered what to do. His encouraging murmurs of contentment powered her resolve. In a moment of foolishness she pulled the inconvenient petticoats from under the dress. Clambering onto the bed, she manoeuvred either side of his thighs, only then becoming aware this might be going too far.

He didn't seem aware of what she was doing, not reacting to her being on the bed with him. It gave her confidence to continue. She leaned forward with hands gliding strongly up his back to a pair of wide, strong shoulders. His murmurs of gratitude pushed aside her doubts. The towel moved a little to reveal the cleft of his bottom, confirming he was naked.

Her breathing was becoming courser. If she had been aware of the change, it would have been put down to the strenuous effort. The exploration of his muscular, tanned body, was a pleasure. What she didn't recognise, was how arousing it was becoming. It was as though she were shutting out the emotion, not wanting it to be so.

'Oww! Hahhh!' Jane exclaimed.

'What's wrong?' Mathew murmured, with a deep, drowsy voice .

'Cramp!' Jane forced through clenched teeth.

'Let me help,' he offered, sounding concerned.

He twisted around, careful not to throw her off the bed. He grabbed a thigh in large powerful hands. It was his turn to massage her.

She was suddenly aware of his nakedness, and how undressed she was. Though still wearing a dress and underwear, there wasn't much substance to either. Without the starched petticoats, the hem fell down around her upper thighs. Automatically looking down to check how decently covered she was, a soft gasp of astonishment slipped from her lips.

The towel had pulled aside when he turned around. A rampant penis was nestling between her thighs! Her eyes closed tight, not wishing to see, or acknowledge its presence.

'Unfold your leg. Stretch it out,' he told her, in a deep caring voice.

She slowly did as she was told, fearful of nudging his penis, and trying to minimise the pain. With his hands carefully guiding them, her legs were stretched out either side of him, with her toes touching his ears.

'That tickles,' he laughed.

She stared at him with eyes wide, as though she were startled, afraid even. His cock was nudging a bare thigh, and his hands were massaging the other. He didn't seem to be concerned over her predicament at all. As though stunned from the bite of his hard snake, she merely sat on his muscular thighs, letting him sooth the cramp.

'Better?' he kindly asked.

She nodded her head, unable to speak. Through the insubstantial panties she could feel his heat. He lifted his knees behind her, pushing her forward. His rock hard cock nudged her crotch. An uninhibited gasp of pleasure escaped her pouting lips. Her nether lips responded by opening up. They were already engorged. The animal, musky smell of excitement was thick between them.

A hand slid up her thigh to flick aside the panty crotch. His knees pushed her up his body and little further, with her heels now beside his ears. More dramatic was the feel of his hardness nudging between her lips. She couldn't move or speak. She was aware of his cock, her heavy breathing, and oddly, that her feet were either side of his head.

Despite her moral reticence, and that this shouldn't be happening with a stranger, she needed it. She tried to move forward onto his cock, but couldn't move in that awkward position. He seemed aware of her desire and difficulty. He smiled at her. Teasing, and daring her to find a way.

He pushed a little more with his knees, and she felt his hardness push aside her wet lips. She couldn't help looking down between her legs. There was much more of him available and she wanted it all.

He thrust up with a powerful lunge of his hips, invading her body. She tried to welcome it by pushing down, but couldn't move. It was frustrating to realise she was helpless, and completely dependent upon him for pleasure.

With every upward thrust her head arched back letting out a warbled cry. The unfamiliar position was wonderful, feeling him penetrate so deeply. His cock was long and thick, leaving her feeling as though he were stretching her inside.

He held his hips up, with her precariously balancing on them. It felt as though she were impaled upon his cock, and that it was filling her entire body. Shuddering vibrations shook her breasts up and down. His cock had deeply penetrated, with its head pushing at the entrance to her womb. It felt as though his sperm were splashing directly into her womb, fertilising her with strong, virile sperm.

Her orgasm was short and sweet. After so long without a man she enjoyed the impromptu act with profound thankfulness. She needed it, him, something. She collapsed upon him. They embraced in a sweaty togetherness.

Later, during the night, they made love. A slow, serene togetherness, compared to the earlier frantic thrusting. Nothing was said. They didn't know each other, so couldn't catch up on a shared past. He was sensible enough not to spoil the moment.

Next morning in the shower, Jane wondered at her wantonness with a stranger. She abandoned her moral reticence to rut like animal in heat, and was shocked. The urge to run to the kitchen to be with him, was tempered by feelings of shame, and confusion over the circumstances.

She wondered if Margaret had set-up the situation, when seeing how worked up she had become during dinner. Had she offered him a massage, suspecting how it might turn out? It became all the more important to speak to him, and try to explain her dissolute behaviour. She quickly dried her hair, and applied makeup. Everything needed was in the bathroom, adding to the idea that she had been ensnared into pleasuring him.

The sensible business suit she wore yesterday couldn't be found. Even last night's dream-wear was missing. It was either wear a small towel, or the cheap nylon maids coverall. She had to see him before he left, desperate to try and excuse her wanton behaviour. Dressed like this, it was obvious what he would think of her. She was Margaret's maid, no-one important, just a thing handed to him like a toy to play with.

Margaret watched Jane looking around, looking for Mathew. The expression of disappointment was comical.

'You've surfaced then. He just left. Eager to return to his wife I guess,' Margaret smirked.

Jane felt this put down more deeply than any of the previous cutting remarks.

The idea of building a relationship with him hadn't been thought through. He was a handsome businessman, around her age, and the best marrying material she had met in a long time. She hadn't even considered she was ready for a relationship before now. He seemed a nice, polite, and attentive person. There was something about him that sparked her interest.