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5745 31.14 KB 323
5745 31.14 KB 323
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>"Now listen here, 'Master'… just because you're paying my wages doesn't mean I appreciate you pinching my derrière!"
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>The flighty maid pushes away from your gentle grip, a great patch of scarlet spreading across her lily white cheeks
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>She stumbles over her own high heels in her haste, but quickly regains her aloof composure
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>You are Anonymous, and this is not how you thought this would go
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>In truth, you thought it would be a little… well, “easier” isn’t quite the right word
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>You knew it would take some time to get your brand new live-in housemaid accustomed to her new line of work, but you didn’t expect such an immediate negative reaction
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>These types of women are always so eager, aren’t they? Eager for the chance to live and work so closely to the elite?
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>So eager that they’re usually willing to go to great lengths to remain in such a position…
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>At least, that’s what everyone down at the Triple C tells you
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>The girl, “Rarity”, brushes her skirt to get the creases out, and looks at you skeptically, as though expecting an explanation out of you
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>You were sitting on the bed here, in the master bedroom, when she opened the door mere moments ago and asked if you wanted privacy
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>When you said no, she quickly got to work dusting all the highest places in the room; the tops of dressers, the shelves where your golf trophies sit in neat rows, the embossed frames of your art collection
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>Every time she stood up on her tiptoes to reach those places, she exposed just the slightest hint of her frilly black panties
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>You thought she was trying to send you a message…
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>But when you acted on that message in the manner you’ve come to assume was appropriate for this type of situation, she recoiled and screamed at you!
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>Imagine that!
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>Now she’s standing before you, staring at you sternly, waiting for you to respond
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>The way her breasts move in that tight little uniform as she huffs, the way she rests on one hip when she has to stand in one place for too long…
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>For a few moments, you struggle to even conjure up words while looking back at that perfect form
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“I.. I…”
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>You’re stammering; stop stammering
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>People like US don’t stammer, that’s what Dad always said
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>Especially not in the presence of those who are beneath you
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>”Well? D-don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”
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>Her blush continues to grow, and pretty soon her whole face is red
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>Her pouty lips wriggling…
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>You clear your throat
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“Ahem. Miss Rarity, I didn’t intend to… to cause you alarm. I was only trying to adjust the strap of your skirt, which was improperly fastened.”
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>”I think not! I FELT your fingers move down there! I know what you were—”
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“You’ll address me as Master, Miss Rarity.”
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>You can see her struggling to keep her composure, her fists balling unconsciously and her face now red with frustration rather than embarrassment
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>”MASter, I-I know what I felt! I’m… I…”
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“Yes?”
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>”I… I’m sorry. You’re right. Thank you for noticing my strap, Master. But I’m perfectly capable of fixing it myself in the washroom.”
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>The girl’s passion suddenly fizzles out, and you think you know why
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>She knows that if she confronts you, she’ll lose this job; worse, she knows that all her other potential employers are your friends
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>Professional maids with nice cushy salaries can’t expect to make it very far in this city without knowing how to behave
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>She’s so haughty, though… you honestly weren’t sure for a second there whether she would react out of hand
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>But as she meekly steps away, picking her duster back up off the hardwood floor where she dropped it, you know she’s learned her place for now
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>It’s funny; the way she’s bending over now to pick it up, she’s clearly trying her very hardest not to expose her backside to you
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>But in the process, you can see her breasts heaving right before your eyes, practically inviting you to cop a feel
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>You won’t, not yet… but you know that she knows that you could
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>And that’s what separates an ordinary maid from a maid worthy of serving the elite
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>Rarity’s large eyes dart back and forth between you and the door
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>If she’s planning her exit, you’ll give it to her
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“Now then, Miss Rarity, if that’s all settled, I believe the parlor could use a good once-over. One of my associates happened to spill some wine on the carpet last night. Will you need any help finding the vinegar?”
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>Rarity moves swiftly across the room, keeping her head turned and her beautiful blue eyes fixed firmly on you
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>”N-no, Master. I’ll find it. D-don’t you bother yourself with it.”
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>Her long white legs carry her all the way to the door, which she shuts behind her
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>You sit alone in the silence, as though the whole ordeal had never happened at all
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>But it did, and even though it didn’t end the way you’d hoped it would, you sigh satisfied knowing that you and your new maid now have an understanding
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>She’s made her choice to stay, and one day very soon, those perfect heaving breasts, those hips, those eyes, that cute little “derrière”…
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>They’ll be all yours
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>The next day, you’re riding up to the Triple C in the back of your Royce
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>The green lawns, perfect pitches on rolling hills that extend for half a mile in every direction, are the perfect getaway from all the tedium of work
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>Unfortunately, it’s Sunday; you’ll have to make your appearance tomorrow at the office, or else Dad will have it out for you
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>You remember him saying something about some Chinese flying in for a big asset swap?
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>Whatever it is, he made sure you knew it was extremely important for you to be there when it went down
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>”All right back there, Mr. Mous?”
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>You snap back to reality, glancing in the direction of the voice
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“All good, Sham.”
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>Your valet and caddy, Shamrock, nods as he pulls under the veranda at the main entrance
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>Removing your sunglasses, you step out of the humming vehicle and walk briskly towards the door, where the frontman greets you warmly
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>The Canterlot Country Club, which you and everyone else call the Triple C, is the perfect place to spend a warm spring morning like this one, golfing the time away and relaxing by the pool with champagne in hand
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>By the time you’ve swiped your card, chatted up the cute receptionist, and started into the main lobby, Shamrock comes through the revolving door with all your clubs in tow, having found a parking spot in record time
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>He catches up to you, and you gesture for him to lay the clubs near your favorite seat in the viewing area and fetch you an early morning cocktail
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>Several minutes later, cocktail swimming in your palm, you hear the revolving door slide around again behind you, and you turn to see the smirking face of your college pal, Jet Set
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>He carries his OWN clubs, the pretentious prick
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>You raise your glass and smile in turn as he approaches
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“Late as usual. Ready to lose your fourth consecutive game in a row?”
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>”Not this time. I’ve got a secret weapon.”
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“And what would that be?”
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>Jet Set can barely conceal his smarm under that thin veneer of snobbery he’s always cultivated
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>”I just came back from a right good rut, and I’m feeling more man than you’ll ever be.”
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“And you think that’ll help you win a game of golf?”
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>”Everyone knows half the battle is confidence, Anon. If you’re confident in your strokes elsewhere, you’ll be confident in your strokes on the green.”
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>Not far behind Jet Set, two more members of your Merry Men stroll through the lobby; Hoity Toity, that fashionable little rascal; and Blueblood, the self-proclaimed leader of the pack
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>You’ve known them all since your days at Buckridge University, where you all “studied” finance together
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>And now, since all but one the group is employed at your father’s firm, you’re still bandying about to this day
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>”What have we missed?”
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>You contort your looks as you stare down Blueblood, who has such a talent for interjecting into perfectly good conversations
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“We were discussing the merits of pre-game exercise. Apparently Jet Set’s got the idea in his head that having good sex before a game predisposes one to better playing ability.”
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>Hoity Toity grins, gesturing at his caddy to fetch him the same drink you’ve got
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>Always the copycat…
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>”Is that so? Can’t be with uh, whazzer name, Upper Cuff?”
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>”Upper Crust.”
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>”That’s it. You always say she’s like a dead fish in the sack.”
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>Jet Set rolls his eyes
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>”Hardly matters when she’s an heiress. And anyway, I wasn’t referring to her. I was referring to my maid.”
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>”Oh-hoh!”
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>Blueblood sits on the cushy armrest of your chair, forcing you to drink with your other hand
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>Asshole…
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>”So, you convinced her to go at it again? Even after that falling-out you had?”
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>”Wouldn’t call it a ‘falling-out.’ She’s the maid, it’s practically in her job description to take it up the ass. Anyway, we got past that. Turns out that where she really likes it is in the mouth. That girl has an oral fixation, I’m telling you. She was practically begging for me to cum down her throat, but you know me; I like it better when they have to sit there with it all over their tits, waiting for you to take your time with the rag.”
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>”She’s the maid! She should do the cleaning!”
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>Hoity Toity guffaws, and you’re inclined to do the same
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>Blueblood shuffles in his impromptu seat, and grins as he spots his caddy across the floor, bumbling towards him with his cocktail
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>”You know, that reminds me of Twinkleshine, the maid at my old man’s place in the Village.”
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“Here we go again.”
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>”Ohh, come on now, Anon. You love this story.”
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“You add new details every time you tell it, it’s totally preposterous.”
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>”Yes, but—thank you.”
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>Blueblood snatches the glass out of his caddy’s hand, and takes practically half of it down in one swallow
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>”But the point of it is the same! She was so obsessed with blowing me, she had to bring her friend along to try it out, too. Imagine that, a broad getting so fixated over a cock that she has to share it like it’s a hobby. Two little sets of high schooler lips, one around your shaft and the other around your balls… that’s an experience nobody forgets.”
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“And an experience you’ll never LET anybody forget.”
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>You all share a hearty laugh, Blueblood the loudest of all
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>”Say, eh, speaking of maids. Anon, didn’t I hear down the grapevine that you were in the market for your first maid all to your own? How comes the search for the perfect little fucktoy?”
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>Jet Set’s question causes you to squirm slightly, and you take a gulp of sunrise to calm your nerves
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“As a matter of fact, it’s been filled. Her name’s Rarity. She just started yesterday.”
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>”Oh-hoh… and how goes the breaking-in? Did she give in the first time, or did you have to coax her a bit?”
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>There’s the question you were hoping you didn’t have to answer
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>Your three friends lean in expectantly, hoping to gauge said answer merely by your expression
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>You’ve got to stay cool if you don’t want to reveal your hand
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>”Well, Anon? You did pork her, didn’t you?”
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“Of course I did. Just who do you take me for, Jet?”
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>Jet Set chuckles and nods in approval, while the other two continue to listen raptly out of curiosity
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>You had to lie, of course; you can’t let them know how little experience you have in that department
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>Everything you know about taming maids comes from them and your other peers, so you know exactly what they’d think if you weren’t man enough to get her in bed with you by the end of the first shift
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>”So? You think you can get away with just that, Anon? What’s the girl look like? What all did the first little outing entail?”
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>Quick, you’ve got to make something up!
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>Something that will satisfy their interest, but not too unbelievable for a first time
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“She’s got an ass like a little minx, and tits to match. A regular Audrey Hepburn, and I think she knows it, too. She’s too sly for her own good.”
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>”Jackpot.”
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>”Gold, gold, gold!”
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“She came into the bedroom while I was reading the trades, said she had to ‘dust up high.’ Kept getting up on the tips of her lifts, showing off her panties right in my face.”
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>”Ha! No pretense with this one!”
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“Long story short, I gave her a little squeeze, she got all flustered, but eventually we were right into it like a couple dogs. I mean, the bed was right there! How could we not!”
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>”Naturally, naturally.”
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“I got her on all fours, she starts yammering on about a rubber, yadda yadda. I didn’t want to sour the moment, so I dug one out of the desk drawer. Probably left over from a year ago with Sugarcoat, the cream had run off, but it didn’t much matter to her. Any excuse to get drilled, yeah?”
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>”Ohhh, yeah.”
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>”Wanted it that bad, huh?”
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“So, it was mostly like that. Went straight in from behind, the bitch loved it. Started groaning after a while, which really got me going. I flipped her over and put her legs up in the air, she was all over that. I got to see those tits bounce around outside the uniform, which saved my day after the shitty trades came through. Finished on her little white belly. Do y’know she’s only something like eighteen or nineteen?”
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>”Hoh-hoh! That’s how they always come. Young and hungry. How else would we take ‘em?”
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>”And you DID make sure she called you Master the whole time, didn’t you? That’s the best part of all.”
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>You smirk softly, juggling your drink in your hand while inside, something cold strikes you
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“Of course she did. What’s the point of banging the maid if you don’t get that out of it?”
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>”My man!”
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>Leaning back, taking another soft sip, you wonder if all that will really happen
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>No, wait a minute… not if, but WHEN
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>It’s going to happen, all right… you’ll have that girl on her back in your bed, screaming your name…
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>But as your accomplices cheer you on, cracking jokes and throwing their drinks back, you continue to think about your new maid, Rarity
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>Not just in the obvious sense, but in a different kind of way, a… a passionate kind of way
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>You’ve only known her for a day, but you wonder if laying with such a delicate flower should really be so vulgar as all that you just described
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>Shouldn’t it be tender? Shouldn’t it be gentle, slow, satisfying?
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>Today is her off day, but tomorrow, yes, tomorrow for sure…
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>Tomorrow you’ll make this prophecy of yours come true, and then you’ll have a REAL story for them
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>”Well, we’re all set, then? Let’s see if there are any carts left. I’d rather not walk right after my trainer session.”
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>You heed Blueblood’s voice, standing with the rest of them and finishing off your drink in one swig
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“Right, right. Jet Set, looks like we’re going to be putting your theory to the test.”
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>Jet Set grins mockingly, making an obscene motion with his free hand
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>”Gladly. Say, Anon, some advice for you, after tossing that little, uh, Jasmine’s salad.”
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“Rarity.”
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>”Right. Make sure you buy her something before next time, a necklace, a bracelet. One good freebie is what you get when she’s really worth your time. But something shiny? Now that’s the hook, line, and sinker. She’ll be on you like butter on toast.”
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>You know you shouldn’t do it, but you’re going to do it anyway
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>Jet Set’s advice was clear: only give a maid some jewelry as a retainer AFTER you’ve had her once
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>But now it’s the next day, and she’s back in the house and cleaning again after her day off
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>You’ve been trying to concentrate on the news on the television after your half-day at the office, but every time you catch a glimpse of her out of the corner of your eye your mind starts to wander
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>The way she struts about in those silk stockings, how she dusts with such a light but purposeful touch, how she wiggles her hips every time her apron gets dirty to shake off the residue
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>And the cleaning she’s doing IS immaculate; everything sparkles and shines when she’s done with it
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>You’re staring at her right now, watching as she sets the plates and bowls in neat rows in the cupboards of your open floor kitchen
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>Despite looking so elegant and long like a swan, Rarity is actually quite petite, and she has to reach place some of the porcelain plates up onto the highest shelves
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>When she does so, you get the same view that you did yesterday, of little frilly panties, baby blue this time, that hug her buttocks just right
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>From the short moment of contact you had with that butt yesterday, you know exactly how soft and plush it is, but from back here it also looks toned, just like her perfectly curvaceous legs in their glossy stilettos
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>God, those stilettos… if you could only travel through time, the first thing you would do is find whoever invented high heels like that and shake their hand
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>You suspect she doesn’t know you’re watching her right now, or else she’d be more careful about hiding that view if she doesn’t want a repeat of last time
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>A pinch? You should’ve done more, you should’ve grabbed a handful, or just smacked it raw with your palm
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>That would’ve shown her exactly where she stood in this world…
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>Now now, Anon, let’s not be hasty
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>All that will come in time, once you’ve determined exactly how you’re going to approach her this time
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>But it IS nearly five, you think as you check your phone; her shift is almost over, and if you’re going to be back in for that presentation tomorrow then you might miss her entirely
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>Now’s your only chance
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>When she’s finished with the dishes, Rarity swivels about on her toes, her skirt flaring up as she twirls, and moves on to the foyer
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>You stand up slowly, silently, so as not to draw attention to yourself, and trace her steps across the hardwood floor
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>When you round the corner into the main space of the foyer, you find her bending down to dust the top of the baseboard by the door
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>Dear Lord…
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>Her skirt mostly covers her at this angle, but its material manages to perfectly match the contour of her shapely behind
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>Not only that, but her back is arched as she calmly works on her hands and knees, protected from the floor only by the sheer layer of silk that makes up her taut stockings and gloves
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>With every stroke of the duster, her whole body moves just a bit with the motion of her arm, causing the most curvaceous parts to jiggle seductively
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>God, if you could only keep her in that position all on your own, if she’d let you just…
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>Beads of sweat form on your forehead; you really wish you had a kerchief right now
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>You approach her cautiously, taking great care not to make a single sound
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>She still doesn’t know you’re right behind her, watching her move like this
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>As you get even closer, you notice she’s humming quietly to herself as she works
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>An ear for music! Everything this girl does just makes her that much more appealing to you!
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>You pause in your approach to listen in, right over her shoulder…
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>”Hmm hmmmmm, got the music in our hearts, hmm hmm, gonna blow this thing apart…”
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“Have I heard that somewhere before?”
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>”Eek!”
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>Rarity practically jumps out of her uniform as she reacts to your voice, her luscious purple hair whipping around to smack you in the face
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>She stumbles back against the wall, gripping the doorframe with her light fingers and looking up at you with a mix of fright and bewilderment
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>”M-Master! How did you… I mean… haha…”
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>Your maid sidesteps slightly, leaning to your left in order to put more space between the two of you
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“I was only curious, Miss Rarity. It sounded familiar.”
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>”Ohhh, ha. I doubt it, Master. It’s… well, it’s something of a memory of mine. A good memory. But I doubt you would know it.”
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“Did you write it?”
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>Rarity blushes, and for a moment you see a hint of that gorgeous smile that compelled you to hire her in the first place
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>”Well, ‘co-wrote,’ perhaps. But a friend of mine had more to do with it.”
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“I see.”
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>For a few seconds, an uncomfortable silence lingers between you and your maid
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>Once the initial shock wears off, her breathing becomes more even, and her bosom’s swaying becomes that much more seductive
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>You would like to reach out and touch her, anywhere, but hold back as you look down on her
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>She clearly notices where your gaze lies, and her lips purse together as she crosses her arms over her chest
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>”W-well… the foyer was my last stop for today… I know it’s only my second day, so I’m sorry to ask this, but might I be able to leave a few minutes early, Master? I have an engagement with friends that I simply can’t miss.”
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“That’s fine. You’ve done an excellent job today. Everywhere I’ve looked is spotless.”
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>”Thank you, Master.”
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>Rarity curtsies, then scampers off back to the kitchen to retrieve her purse, which she left on the countertop
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>You follow her back in, shrugging your shoulders and cracking your neck to relieve the tension building there
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>A few minutes early… that wasn’t part of the agenda, but you won’t hold her from her own personal time
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>Being a servant for the elite should come with such perks and leniencies here and there, so long as they don’t interfere with the quality of the work
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>But you weren’t lying when you said you’d noticed her handiwork; the floor practically sparkles as you walk across the room towards your buxom maid
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“Miss Rarity, before you go.”
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>”Mhm?”
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>Rarity loops the strap of her purse over her bared shoulder, again shirking from the sound of your voice
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>She’s removed her silk gloves already, and they drape down from the pocket of her designer bag
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>You close the distance between you, standing directly opposite from her across the marble counter
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“Apologies, this will only take a moment. Sit, if you’d like.”
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>You gesture to the stools surrounding the kitchen counter, which she previously spent many minutes scrubbing with a bleached sponge
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>”O-oh, I… I wouldn’t…”
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“I insist.”
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>Rarity nods, straightening her skirt and apron as she climbs onto the high seat
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>You do the same across from her, resting your hands on the countertop and looking into her deep blue eyes
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“I wanted to formally apologize for what happened on Saturday. The business with the… ahem… well, the misunderstanding. Regardless of my intentions, it was wrong of me to lay hands on you or your uniform without your permission.”
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>Rarity stares back at you quizzically for a moment, seemingly not expecting something like this
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>”You… apologize? For what, Master?”
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“Come now, let’s dispense with the games. You know exactly what I’m referring to. I’m not an overly perceptive person, but even I’ve noticed that you’ve been avoiding me today. Making a point of cleaning every room but for the one I’m sitting in.”
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>”I… didn’t want to disturb you, Master. A good maid should be discreet, that’s what I’ve always learned.”
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“That wasn’t the only thing I’ve noticed. Do I scare you, Miss Rarity?”
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>”Um…”
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>Fingers drumming against the countertop, Rarity averts her gaze, looking back and forth between the door and the window
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>She’s overflowing with tension, you can tell
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“It’s a simple question. Do I scare you?”
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>”I… I shouldn’t say. Master. My opinion of you hardly matters with respect to—”
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“That badly, then. Hm.”
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>You rub your chin and sigh, watching as she deflates into her seat
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“Well, I guess it’s to be expected. But what’s also expected is that a maid in this city, in our society, should know implicitly what she should—”
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>”Please don’t fire me, Master!”
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>This time, it’s your turn to recoil in shock at your maid’s sudden outburst
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>You stumble back in your seat, looking on at Rarity’s face as it turns more and more sour
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>Is she… crying?
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>Tears flow from those great expressive eyes, leaving faint mascara streaks down her cheeks
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>Her mouth is fixed open as she lets out tiny, whimpering sobs
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>She thinks it’s all over, doesn’t she?
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>She really thinks she’s going to be sacked after just two days!
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>You’d almost like to keep silent for a while and let her emotions play out, but even you aren’t that cruel
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“Now, Miss Rarity, control yourself! There’s no need to—”
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>”Please, please! I’m sorry I didn’t let you! I should’ve… I should’ve done what you wanted! I didn’t… didn’t want…”
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>This display is completely unwarranted; once again, you’re surprised to find that this girl has managed to do the complete opposite of what you expected from her
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>First she pushes you away, and now she’s begging to stay?
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>If anything, it’s premature; according to everyone you’ve discussed maids with, this kind of confrontation doesn’t normally happen until at least a month in
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“Rarity, I’m not going—”
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>”I’ll do anything! Please, I just need this job so very badly! I-I’ll let you touch me while I work! I’ll do all the things that are expected of a maid! Just… please don’t fire me!”
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“Rarity, I have no intention of firing you.”
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>”Just please, please please plea… pardon?”
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>Rarity perks up, and the tears stop flowing
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>What in the goddamn hell are you doing?
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>You realize it a second too late; you had her right there! You could’ve taken her up on that offer, pretended you were really going to go through with it!
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>And yet…
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“I’m not going to fire my maid over a little misunderstanding, that’s ridiculous. What in the world prompted you to think that?”
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>No, no, no, you’re doing it all wrong!
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>Why is your mouth saying the exact opposite of what your brain is telling it to?
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>”W-well… it was… my mother, she…”
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“Yes?”
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>You lean in to better hear Rarity’s soft, slightly hoarse voice
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>She sniffles, reminding you that she was a teary mess just a few moments ago
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>How did she transform so quickly back into her usual composed self?
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>”M-my mother used to be a maid for a wealthy family. And she t-told me what I have to do to be a proper maid. All the things she had to do…”
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“What kind of things?”
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>Rarity chokes slightly, looking back down at her feet beneath the counter
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>”Things that… things that mustn’t be discussed in polite society. But when I told her two nights ago what had happened, b-between you and I, she said… she said I insulted you greatly by doing something like that. By yelling at you, Master. She said it was an un… unladylike thing to do. That you would be very angry.”
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>Angry?
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>Well, you may have been a bit incensed that things didn’t pan out quite like you’d hoped
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>But then again, you have a second chance now, and you’re completely flubbing it!
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>You don’t care about this girl’s mother’s little life story, and you don’t care about her personal life
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>Why, then, are you hanging onto every word as she speaks?
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>Her voice IS so enchanting, so affectionate yet proper
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>A beautiful paradox…
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>”But if you aren’t angry, then… then I suppose I’ve made a fool out of myself once again, haven’t I?”
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“Rarity, would you like to know why I came home so early today?”
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>”I… Master?”
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“Today, I was supposed to be busting my ass so that I could sit quietly for hours while some Japanese pricks waltzed in and made a four-hour deal with my dad. Instead, I have to walk up to the building soaking wet, because my valet hit the convertible setting by accident in the middle of a thunderstorm. I have to walk by all these arrogant douchebags who smile at me, but quite frankly hate my guts because they think I’m where I am only because my last name is on the front of the building. I have to go to the washroom and spend ten minutes drying off my hair and my suit with the God-forsaken hand dryer, because some environmentalist jagoff with half a brain cell decided that paper towels are bad for the rainforests. I had to do all that, glance over a fifty page report in the two minutes allotted to me before this presentation was supposed to happen, only to get a memo on my phone AS I’m walking into the conference room, that the guys from Supaiko had their flight delayed because of the storm, they’re coming in tomorrow.”
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>Rarity nods along with your diatribe, her delicate fingers continuing to drum nervously on the marble
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“So, yeah. Big waste of my time. Could’ve just stayed here. But my dad wants what my dad wants. Point is, you don’t have to take everything everyone says to heart. Not even your parents. Sometimes, an apology is just an apology.”
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>You manage to smirk, and Rarity returns the smile with a slight blush
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>She’s still visibly tense, but you hope she at least understood what you were trying to convey
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>Some kind of connection, however tenuous…
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>You’re still going about this all wrong; you could be balls deep in her right now if you’d just gone along with her fantasy of getting fired
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>But you think back to what you thought about at the Triple C, about how a delicate flower should be treated
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>Plucked gently, and cared for over time…
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>It just wouldn’t be the same if she were doing it out of fear
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>”Master, I… yes. To answer your question. I’m a little scared of you. I-I’m sorry.”
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>At that, you rise from the stool, towering over her slight form
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“That’s fine. It’s only natural. I just hope it won’t stay that way. Because the way things are looking, I might be around the house during your shifts more often very soon.”
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>Rarity grins sheepishly, once again donning her purse
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>Even the contours of her shoulders, her collarbone, her elegant neck, they’re all so perfect
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>And the strapless uniform accentuates all of them so nicely, accommodating your tastes to a T
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>”W-well, I should be going… I have—”
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“A prior engagement. Yes. Well, have fun with your friends, Miss Rarity. You’ve certainly earned the night off with the job you’ve done today.”
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>”Thank you, Master.”
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>Calmly, your maid also rises from her seat, and you walk her back into the foyer and open the door to let her out
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>However, just as you begin to close it behind her as she steps onto the wet concrete of the patio, Rarity suddenly twirls around, just like before, and looks back at you nervously
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>”A-and Master?”
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“Yes?”
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>”Thank you for the advice. I mean it.”
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“I meant it too. I’ll see you on Wednesday, so long as those Japanese decide to stick to the schedule for once.”
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>Rarity giggles sweetly, and only once she starts to walk away, her bottom and hips dancing along with her strut, can you sense her letting her guard down
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>You close the door with a soft thud, wondering how in the world this turned out the way it did
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>If you were Jet Set, or Blueblood, or any of your other pals, you would have put your foot down with that broad
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>You would’ve made her stay, you would’ve held her to that promise she made, you would’ve… would’ve…
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>Would’ve kissed every inch of her body… would’ve made her feel good in all the right places
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>Lord, lord, lord, this is not happening
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>You hammer your head against the wood of the door a few times, but the feeling doesn’t go away
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>Then, you resign yourself back to the empty house that seems so dark with the clouds blotting out the sun
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“Well, just one thing’s abundantly clear.”
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>You think aloud as you return to the couch, and to the news that rules your world
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“That neckline would look even better with some pearls around it.”
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by Solanon
by Solanon
by Solanon
by Solanon
by Solanon