Maid to Serve

Then Ana suddenly excused herself, saying it was time for bed. Stunned, Christine silently watched her maid walk away. Was that it? Were they really going to pretend nothing had happened? Maybe it was for the best, Christine convinced herself.

* * *

The next morning, Christine headed to the office early to avoid Ana. Busy with meeting after meeting, it was surprisingly easy to block out her shame. But the distractions vanished the moment she left the office. Shame flushed over her as she put the keys in the lock. That shame strangely sparked a sensation of lust inside her, which in turn made her feel even more ashamed. She shouldn't get excited thinking about Ana.

Ana greeted her with her signature warm smile. "How was your day, Mrs. Dahl?"

"Fine," Christine said sheepishly. "And yours?"

"I've been studying hard for my math exam. I'm counting on acing the test!"

Ana giggled at her own pun.

Christine found herself blushing. The way Ana acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred made Christine feel more ashamed. It was like Ana wasn't even surprised by what she had witnessed. Of course her boss was a kinky slut who needed her ass fucked on a regular basis.

But there was something peculiar about Ana's appearance. She wore a ruffled headpiece, which was a clear contrast against her casual jeans and t-shirt. The maid caught Christine looking.

"I decided I needed some maid-stuff," Ana said. "I used the card. Hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," Christine said. "Whatever you need."

Ana drew a slight smirk, which Christine had a hard time interpreting. Christine had given the maid a credit card to buy whatever supplies she needed. In terms of uniform, all Ana had previously purchased was a baseball cap to keep her long black hair in check as she cleaned. Christine couldn't object if Ana wanted something different. In fact, after losing control the night before, she wasn't sure she could object to anything Ana did. Surprisingly, Christine found the loss of control somewhat rewarding. Thrilling, even.

"OK, I'm going back to my room to study," Ana said.

Christine watched as the cute girl turned and walked away. Why was Ana wearing a maid's headpiece if she was going to study?

* * *

The next day followed a similar pattern. Christine left for work early and kept her mind occupied with a busy schedule. She had a board meeting with a charity organization in the evening, and she was happy to postpone going home. Still, she felt an unexpected eagerness develop inside her—a strange yearning to experience the humiliation of meeting the maid she had lost face in front of. The shame built as she approached her house and was followed by an increasingly familiar thrill.

Ana met her in the hallway. "Hi Mrs. Dahl! Did you have a nice day?"

She was wearing the same headpiece from the night before, but her typical jeans and t-shirt was replaced by a black dress. It was short with laced details at her chest and bottom hem. Christine found herself admiring how it wrapped Ana's petite body.

"Yes," Christine said eventually, realizing Ana had asked her a question. "Many meetings."

"I bet you showed them who's boss."

Yes, that's what she was. A boss. But in her own home she felt like anything but.

"Let me help you with that," Ana said and reached for Christine's coat.

Underneath, Christine wore her typical office uniform of a skirt and blouse. The similarity to how she dressed for her ritual reminded her of how her latest one ended, and she felt herself blushing. She was nearly a head taller than her maid, but she felt as if she were growing smaller by the minute in front of Ana's gaze.

"Is that a new dress?" Christine said, trying to steer the focus away from her.

"Yes, I decided I needed some new uniforms for the work I do around the house."

"It looks good on you," Christine said, and felt herself blushing. Why did she have to say that?

Ana didn't look the slightest surprised by Christine's compliment. "I got something for you too. I'll lay it out for you tomorrow morning."

And just like that, Ana left a dumbfounded Christine behind in the hallway. Was Ana deciding what her boss was going to wear for work now? That was just bizarre. Yet, Christine didn't protest.

* * *

By the next morning, Christine had concluded she must have misunderstood what Ana meant. English was Ana's second language after all. But not wanting to find out for sure, Christine snuck out of bed early, hoping to once again disappear before Ana woke up.

But as she came back from her shower, there was a line of neatly folded apparels on her bed. She looked around, wondering if Ana was still there. But Christine was left alone with this bizarre decision. What kind of signal would it send if she let Ana dictate her wardrobe?

Christine picked up the skirt. It was black, and while the style looked like something a business woman might wear, it seemed alarmingly short. She looked around again to make sure she was alone, both because she didn't want Ana to see her disrobe and because she felt embarrassed to even consider wearing what the maid had decided for her. A warm sensation spread inside her as she put the skirt on. It was rewarding to obey Ana.

The skirt was tight, but it fit perfectly. Christine realized the person who did her laundry probably had no problem getting her measurements right. Short and stringent, the skirt looked a lot like the ones she used for her ceremonies. Ana must have put two and two together after seeing her boss prancing around in a skirt like that and later finding her on the floor. Shame and excitement overwhelmed Christine as she remembered Ana's piercing gaze.

The other new item on the bed was a pair of stockings. Christine tried them on and found the skirt just barely covered the embellished lace ornaments at the top. She pulled nervously at the hem of her skirt, hoping it might magically grow longer.

Christine always wore string underwear under tight skirts to avoid pantylines, and it appeared Ana had the same idea. A white thong was laid out on the bed. The skirt fabric was stretchy, and Christine pulled the skirt to her waist before slipping the panties on. Much like she did in her ceremonies, she admired her own image in the mirror. Knowing that Ana had decided on the underwear made the touch of the sheer fabric electrifying.

The matching bra emphasized her chest more than Christine normally was comfortable with for work. And when she put on the white blouse, she realized it was the same one she wore for her latest ceremony, hugging tightly against her ample breasts. The memories made Christine flush with shame, but she didn't even consider removing the blouse.

Instead she put on a pair of high heels to accentuate her slender legs. Admiring herself in the mirror, she looked like the epitome of a sexy business woman, straight out of some erotic fantasy. Her own, specifically. And now Ana wanted her to look the part.

Christine hurried to get out of the house. She couldn't bear letting Ana see her in the clothes the maid had picked. It was irrational, of course. Ana would notice the clothes she laid out were gone. And even worse, Christine realized, Ana would see her coming back from work. Christine's mind was in turmoil all day. The embrace of the clothes constantly reminded Christine of her ordeal. The embarrassment and excitement grew concurrently throughout the day.

Arriving home, Ana again met her in the hallway. Christine felt flustered to be seen in the outfit her maid had picked, but Ana didn't seem to notice. Oddly, that made Christine feel even more flustered. Apparently it was so expected that Christine would obey that it wasn't even worth commenting on.

"Come, I need your help with something," Ana said. It wasn't until Christine had followed all the way into Ana's room that she registered the abnormality of her maid giving her direct instructions.

Christine rarely found herself in Ana's room. Pictures of friends and family decorated the walls, and organized stacks of books and papers filled the small desk. It was tidier than might be expected from a girl in her early twenties, but that wasn't surprising given Ana's inclination for cleanliness. Ana picked up a tiny white apron from her bed and wrapped it around her waist.

"Here, tie this," she said, turning her back to Christine.

Christine's shaky hands struggled to tie the knot. She felt a charge of excitement each time her fingers brushed against Ana's narrow waist. Realizing she was getting inappropriately turned on accelerated Christine's embarrassment. She shouldn't let herself become so affected. The young maid waited patiently, seemingly unmoved by Christine's strife.

"Thanks," Ana said once the apron was tied in her back. "I'm doing a laundry, and..." She paused, looking at Christine's blouse. "Perfect, that's just what I need to fill up a white load."

With that she reached for Christine's collar and started unbuttoning. Christine gaped. Her head was spinning, and somewhere in the back of her head was a voice telling her to put a stop to this outrageous behavior. But no part of her wanted to listen to that voice. Instead she complied in silence, passively letting her maid strip her. Once all buttons were undone, Ana slid the blouse from Christine's shoulder. Christine's chest heaved with nervous excitement.

"I'll just take this too," Ana said, offering no particular reason as she proceeded to unzip Christine's skirt and pull it over her hips.

Without a trace of protest, Christine remained frozen while Ana casually undressed her, acting like this was completely normal. Apparently Ana had decided not only to control what clothes Christine should wear, but also when to take them off. Christine was overwhelmed with embarrassment, especially since her exposure meant she had to reveal she compliantly wore the underwear Ana had picked for her that morning. Christine caught a hint of a pleased smirk in her maid's otherwise composed expression.

Without a word, Ana left, taking Christine's clothes with her. Christine found herself panting and alone, wondering what just happened. Her stockings and high heels made her predicament worse. These remnants of her business attire spoke volumes of the stature of the woman who just let her maid strip her at will.

Being in Ana's room only amplified her self-consciousness. In lack of better options, Christine decided to leave. As she walked out in the living room, Ana stood there watching, not hiding in the slightest that she was staring at her boss and landlady prancing around in nothing but her underwear. Christine did her best to act unperturbed, but it was impossible. Her exposure, her heels against the floor, and her arousal all reminded her of how she usually pranced around in a state of heightened eroticism during her ceremonies. Without realizing it, she added a swagger to her hips.

As she continued up the stairs, she was certain Ana was watching, and it filled her with erotic joy. The moment she shut the door to her bedroom behind her, she collapsed on the bed, pulled her panties down and started rubbing her clit furiously. Her arousal manifested itself in her dripping wetness. Realizing she was moaning out loud, she felt ashamed that Ana might hear her. But that shame pushed her over the edge. She screamed out uncontrollably as the orgasm took her. In the haze, Ana's strict gaze appeared in Christine's mind, escalating the bliss.

Ch. 3. A prop

Christine's mind was in turmoil the next day. As usual, her schedule was busy with meetings, but the knot in her stomach made it difficult to focus. It wasn't so much what had happened the day before that made Christine unsettled. Sure, the memory of being stripped still filled her with embarrassment, but that flavor of shame came with a lustful sensation that she found increasingly addictive. What she felt now was different.

Neither was it the fact that she was wearing the clothes Ana had decided for her that bothered Christine. She wasn't even surprised when she once again found them laid out for her in the morning. It was what Ana hadn't laid out that caused the problem. How could Ana expect Christine to go to work without panties?

And yet, what agitated Christine was that she hadn't obeyed. Even though she knew better than to assume it was an oversight on Ana's behalf, Christine had made a last-minute decision to put on panties. It just seemed too much to go without around the office. And she rationalized that Ana wouldn't be able to know what she wore at the office. Like the day before, she snuck out without running into Ana.

"Are you OK?" Christine's secretary asked, peaking into Christine's office.

Christine looked up from her computer. "What?"

The screen had gone to black. How long had she been sitting there, ruminating in angst?

"You look a bit pale," her secretary said. "Do you think you might be coming down with something?"

Christine shook her head. The sickness she was developing wasn't something she could discuss.

"There's a package for you," the secretary continued when Christine didn't respond. She placed a brown package on Christine's desk before leaving.

Christine went back to thinking about her disobedience. It was stupid, Christine realized. She didn't owe Ana anything. Still, Christine couldn't help feeling like she had betrayed her maid.

Eventually Christine's eyes fell on the package her secretary left on her desk. Christine hadn't ordered anything. She was stunned when she opened the package and found an old-school feather duster. She picked it up and studied it. It easy to guess who it was from. Apparently Ana wanted Christine to think of her maid at work. Christine felt a rush of excitement, which was followed by the tightening knot in her stomach.

There was a note in the box.

"Bring this home with you tonight."

Home. Christine had been concerned with leaving the house before Ana caught her. Somehow she had blocked out the obvious fact that she would have to see her maid tonight. What would Christine say if Ana asked about going panty-less? And what if Ana did more than ask? The mere thought made Christine gasp. Without giving it a second though, she pulled her panties off and hid them in her jacket. There she was, a professional business woman removing her underwear in the office for no reason other than to please her maid.

Christine immediately felt relieved. She couldn't for the life of her see why she hadn't obeyed in the first place. One reason she put them on against Ana's will was that Christine thought the constant reminder of her obedience might be too distracting for work. But quite the opposite, when she finally gave in and obeyed, it significantly improved her focus. It added a shimmer of erotic humiliation to her day, which she intensified by keeping the feather duster in clear view on her desk, but that humiliation somehow seemed to energize her. Of course she should follow Ana's instructions. It was the natural thing to do.

As she approached her front door, the thought of demonstrating her compliance to Ana once again filled Christine with shame. But this was the type of shame she was learning to adore. She was even disappointed when Ana didn't meet her at the door. Without even considering changing out of her clothes, she went to her study to prepare for next day meetings. She placed the feather duster on the desk beside her, eager to show she brought it home as instructed.

It took several hours before Christine heard the door to Ana's room open. Heart pounding, Christine listened as steps approached. She straightened her skirt in a nervous attempt to look her best.

When Ana appeared in the door frame, Christine froze like a deer in the headlight. There stood Ana in a uniform that looked a lot like the archetype of a sexy maid costume someone might put on for a saucy dress-up party. But Ana wasn't dressed up for pretense. She truly was a sexy maid, and nothing in her expression signaled facetiousness. Ana's silent strictness made Christine aghast.

Christine's voice was too weak to initiate a conversation. And when Ana didn't speak, Christine eventually turned her focus back to the computer, pretending to resume her work. But the letters on the screen looked like fuzzy gibberish. She held her breath when Ana suddenly stepped over and picked up the feather duster.

Ana studied the duster for a moment, stroking the feathers against her palm. Without a word, she proceeded to casually dust around Christine. Christine felt the whole display was for her benefit. Or more correctly for her shame. Ana was meant to be Christine's subordinate, and the more Christine was reminded of this, the clearer the power exchange between them became.

Ana brushed the duster against Christine's hand. At first it seemed accidental, but then Ana casually continued the casual caress. The touch was light, and when she continued up Christine's arm, Christine could barely feel it through her blouse. But Ana's domineering behavior was crystal clear. When Ana stepped around to trace the duster up over Christine's shoulder and down the other arm, the maid's battering heels against the floor sounded like a dramatic drum beat through the otherwise silent room. Christine gasped when Ana suddenly pulled back her chair.

"Stand up."

Ana's short command was the first words spoken by either of them. Christine didn't hesitate to obey.

Aiming the feathers at Christine's waist, Ana caressed her way around her shivering prey. She worked her way upwards and didn't shy away when she reached Christine's heaving chest. Rather, she made a point to circle her boss' large breasts through the strained blouse, as if claiming them. Christine's head was spinning. How could this be happening?

Ana caresses moved down Christine's torso. Reaching the skirt, she continued down below the hem. The duster against Christine's legs spurred goose bumps. Increasingly, Ana focused on the inside of Christine's thighs, repeatedly allowing the duster to reach far under the skirt to the naked skin above Christine's stockings. Christine's mouth fell open in awe as she felt the duster so close to her aching pussy.

Ana suddenly stepped back. Too embarrassed to meet Ana's piercing eyes, Christine stared at the floor.

"Lift it," Ana commanded.

Christine's eyes opened wide. In shock and confusion, she raised her gaze to meet Ana's. To emphasize her command, Ana sternly pointed the duster at Christine's skirt.

Christine bent at the knees to reach the bottom hem of her skirt. Ever so slowly, she obediently started to raise her skirt. Ana nodded approvingly, adding a shimmer of glee to Christine's predicament.

Overcome with embarrassment, Christine paused halfway up her thighs. She looked imploringly at Ana, pleading for mercy. But Ana just raised her brows in a challenging stare, and Christine continued her compliant exhibition. Every inch felt like a humiliating mile. Christine could tell she was wet, and soon Ana would be able to tell. As if it wasn't outrageous enough to expose herself, Christine was also about to reveal how excited it made her.

But Christine's will to obey was too strong. In a moment of bold submissiveness, she pulled the skirt all the way to her waist. There she was, presenting her pussy for no reason other than Ana's command. Christine was overcome with embarrassment, but Ana's pleased smirk felt like a great reward. And there was a glimmer of excitement in the maid's expression as she unwaveringly took in Christine's exposure. Christine found the blonde strand of pubes above her otherwise bare pussy to be an attractive lure. The possibility that Ana might appreciate it filled her with submissive joy.

Ana stepped in close and resumed her caress with the duster. She moved it over Christine's naked thighs and hips, teasingly close to Christine's dripping wet pussy. Not knowing what to do with her hands, Christine placed them on her trembling chest in an intuitive attempt to make sure she wasn't interfering.