The Housekeeper, Chapter 31
Chapter 31
Normally, it took me a minute to wake up. Not today. My eyes snapped open at the pain on my chest, gasping and crying out in a way that made it clear that my voice wasn’t quite awake as I was. The sound was all kinds of awkward, though I was mostly focused on arching my body in an attempt to lessen the awful sensations on my nipples. “S-stop!” I begged, eyes landing on the scowling blonde girl above me. She was still fully nude, which didn’t help anything.
“You lesbian SLUT.” Letting go with both of her hands, she then informed me why she was actually relenting. “Are you actually getting off on this?” Then she proceeded to punch me in the stomach.
Before I could process that she interpreted the desperate arching as me being turned on, I was doubling over from the unexpected blow, completely winded from both Hannah punching me and the harsh awakening in general, I tried to speak again. “ . . . Ms. H-”
“Shut the fuck up,” she snapped. Stepping back, she pointed towards the corner I had relieved myself in last night. “What is that, Jessie?”
My lips parted, the lower one quivering slightly as I tried to figure out if there was literally anything safe to say in response to that. It wasn’t my fault! There hadn’t been anywhere else to go, and it had felt like the better alternative to wetting the bed. Maybe if I was in a calmer state, I could have made another attempt to point out that it was impossible to just hold it forever, and I had to go somewhere if I wasn’t allowed to use the bathroom. But I was scared and vulnerable at the moment, leaving me completely at Hannah’s mercy in a number of ways.
When I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, Hannah shifted her demeanor to something that was closer to disappointment. “And you were so close to getting your bathroom privileges back. At least you got my title right. Fine. You want to be my obedient maid and nothing else? Put your uniform on.” She pointed to the familiar black and white dress draped over the back of her vanity chair.
It was honestly more humiliating than being yelled at. Maybe it’s because I was the type of girl who hated the idea of anyone being disappointed in me, or how it sounded like I could have made it a step in the right direction with the girl of the house if I had just held it all night. I didn’t want to be just a maid. At the same time, I definitely didn’t want to be naked, and putting on the skimpy outfit would at least solve that problem.
Scrambling out of bed, doing my best to not stare at Hannah’s bare breasts that were even more in my face as I shifted to the edge of the mattress and got to my feet, I went over and grabbed the dress while blushing at how the cruel teenager was now getting an eyeful of my exposed backside right after seeing and touching my chest. What I didn’t expect was how difficult it would be to get into the demeaning uniform. Was it even smaller than yesterday, or was I just imagining things? The top half absolutely crushed my chest, both flattening my breasts and making it a little bit difficult to breathe. Then there was the skirt, that was so short that I felt like a bit of my ass was hanging out while simply standing still. The moment I bent over to clean something or pick up an empty glass, it would almost certainly ride up and expose more of me.
“Don’t just stand there, Virgin,” Hannah said, “Clean up your mess. Then bring me breakfast.” Confident as ever in her nudity, she got back into bed and picked up her phone, ignoring me just like that as she started looking through whatever on the device. We were exact opposites in that sense; I would never just sit around with my boobs out like that, especially not with someone else in the room.
Right. Because I had made a mess in the corner of the room, and there would probably end up being an embarrassing stain no matter how well I cleaned it at this point. Still, I hurried out of her bedroom to grab the supplies I needed. When I returned, she didn’t spare me a single glance. While being invisible was better than a lot of other things Hannah could do to me, it also drove home her ‘just a maid’ comment. At the moment, I was being treated as nothing but a servant for the rich girl.
Sure enough, the wood did end up looking a little discolored no matter how hard I scrubbed. Of course it did, when I had just left the puddle there for hours. Should I have woken Hannah up immediately to tell her about it? Although at that point, I should have done so to inform her that I needed to pee. And then she would have told me to hold it, and punished me this morning for disrupting her sleep. I had already gone through half of these scenarios in my head last night before relieving myself. The problem was, playing the what-if game where Hannah was concerned was futile, when the best I could manage most of the time was minimizing how much she punished and/or humiliated me.
Deciding not to say anything for now, hoping that she’d be okay just putting something in the corner to cover up the slight imperfection to her bedroom, I retreated back to the upstairs hallway with the cleaning supplies and-
I thought I had been imagining it while crouched in the corner, and also a bit distracted by how I could feel the chilly AC against my bare ass as the skirt did exactly what I expected it to in a position like that. Now that I had a moment to myself, however, I was aware of how my chest was starting to itch. Not in a pleasurable way. Like, actually itching, to the point where scratching it felt like the only real way to deal with the slightly uncomfortable sensation.
As soon as I returned the supplies back to the closet, I hesitantly gripped my breasts, knowing full well that Hannah had cameras all over the couch. I didn’t want this to look like I was groping myself for no reason, when I was really just trying to alleviate what I was feeling underneath the fabric. Heading down to the kitchen, so I would at least be on task while gently digging my fingers underneath my boobs, I worked the spots for as long as it took me to make it down the stairs and around the corner. Video recordings aside, I also wasn’t sure if Hannah’s friends were here or not. The house was quiet, though that didn’t necessarily mean anything. I didn’t want their first image of me since last night to be anything that looked inappropriate.
My attempts at scratching over the tight uniform didn’t really help. The good news was, the kitchen was empty. However, I still had a job to do. Hannah was going to be irritated if her breakfast in bed took too long. As usual, she gave me very little direction in terms of what she wanted. Eggs and whatever sides I could make to go with it? Pancakes or waffles? Making snacks for her and her friends was one thing, but my cooking skills were fairly limited, and I had no idea what a girl from a wealthy family expected in the morning.
I settled on my best attempt at an omelette, along with some fruit and juice I knew she liked from previous requests. Not like I could make her a huge meal, when I’d have to carry it upstairs. I also knew how she liked her coffee at this point, as well as how to use the espresso machine. Saving that for last, so she could have everything while it was hot, I made my best attempt at a simple yet fancy-ish meal for her, complete with the kind of garnish I had seen at restaurants before.
All the while, my chest was only itching more. Was it getting worse because I kept thinking about it and couldn’t do much at the moment? It couldn’t just be sweat from the previous day, plus I had washed it somewhat recently. Also, it wasn’t just my breasts. I was starting to feel a similar problem below the waist on both sides.
Hannah could have done something . . . She was also going to be getting impatient if I spent too long preparing her meal. After looking around for a minute or two, I found a tray that was designed for both carrying food and holding it over a girl’s lap. Carefully bringing everything upstairs and to her bedroom, I flinched and averted my gaze as soon as I saw her; I had completely forgotten that she was topless.
“Took you long enough,” Hannah said, “You made something for Willow and Lillian, right?”
What? No, I didn’t. Hannah only told me to bring her breakfast, and I had no way of knowing that her friends stayed over. “Umm, not yet,” I muttered. Just standing there wasn’t doing me any favors, so I made myself bring the tray over to the casually naked blonde and placed the meal over her lap. “I wanted to take care of you as quickly as possible.” Ugh, it was so cringeworthy; I was actually sucking up to her in an attempt to avoid her judgment.
She just sighed, once again going for disappointment rather than anger. Pointing to the spot right next to the bed, she said, “Down. Wait for me to finish, then you can go make breakfast for them and clean the kitchen when you’re done.”
Degrading as it was, I knew better than to hesitate when given an order. I lowered myself down to my knees, feeling more like a pet than a servant while doing so, and waited for another command that never came. Apparently this was it. Kneeling in front of her, trying my best to stay still amidst the itchy uniform and the eventually soreness of my knees. I had already been hungry while cooking for her; now, I was practically salivating as the hot omelette was at eye level.
My empty stomach let out an embarrassing gurgle at some point. Hannah smirked for a second, then shifted the expression to a scowl as she glared down at me. “Shut the fuck up, Jessica.”
But, I couldn’t help that! By the time Hannah was done with her meal, I desperately needed to scratch myself in pretty much all my private places, and I was feeling awkward and self conscious from the combination of a growling stomach that only made Hannah more annoyed every time as well as how I had to constantly avert my gaze to avoid seeing her exposed upper body. I wasn’t trying to be disruptive! If she wanted peace and quiet, she could have just told me to get out.
“Breakfast was okay,” she said after the last bite, “You’ll do better next time, yes?”
How was I supposed to learn how to cook properly when being run ragged every day?! All I could bring myself to say, however, was “Yes, Ms. Hannah.” Thanks to Willow pushing the title yesterday, that was what I was to call all of them until I was told otherwise.
Taking the empty tray from the bed, spoiling Hannah more than ever with my obedience as she continued lounging in bed without a care in the world, I returned to the kitchen and got back to work. At least I had some semblance of a plan this time around where the meal was concerned. I quickly washed the pan, then got to work making two more omelettes for the other girls. The main adjustment I had to make was that I had no idea how Willow or Lillian liked their coffee, so I found a little creamer pitcher, adding that and the sugar bowl to the tray.
Another minor issue was that I couldn’t carry two trays at once, and I had no idea where the two girls were. Still in their bedrooms? So far, they hadn’t been consistent at all, considering how they had gotten up before me and left the house yesterday, and now Hannah was content to hang out in her bedroom all morning. Her friends could also be in the furnished basement, which would explain why I couldn’t really hear them.
Going with my first instinct, I went back upstairs and placed the tray down for a minute to knock on one of the closed bedroom doors.
“Who is it?” Willow, maybe, called out to me.
I didn’t really know the girls well enough after only a few days to recognize a slightly muffled voice. “It’s-” I hesitated. While I had been called a lot of things since my arrival as Hannah’s ‘housekeeper,’ I hadn’t really been given an opportunity to introduce myself. The natural impulse was still ‘Jess,’ which was my preferred nickname and what I had gone by for years. And yet, this was one of Hannah’s friends, who would likely report back to her if I said or did anything that wouldn’t be approved of. “It’s Jessica,” I said. They did call me that, usually when being stern. It had a little more dignity than ‘Jessie,’ and I certainly wasn’t going to announce myself as ‘Virgin.’ Realizing I should also inform the girl on the other side of the door why I was there, I added, “I brought you breakfast.”
“You can come in!” she cheerily said.
Opening the door first while I had a free hand, bracing myself for the girl on the other side to be just as exposed as Hannah, I picked the tray back up and nudged the door open with my shoulder. It was Willow–maybe I knew Hannah’s two closer friends better than I thought–and she was dressed, at least more than Hannah. The redhead was in the middle of a stretching routine on the floor, in short shorts and a tank top with no bra. Despite what Hannah kept saying about me, I was NOT a lesbian. It was just natural to glance towards a girl’s chest when she was wearing a tight top and arching her body in a way that left nothing to the imagination.
Though I only stared for a second or two before flushing and quickly glancing away, Willow noticed and called me out. “Not interested, lesbian. I don’t fuck maids.” She finished her stretch and then snapped her fingers. “Just put it on the desk, Jessie. I’m busy.”
Flustered from how she made my brief and totally innocent glimpse sound, I didn’t say a word as I did as I was told. It wasn’t until I set the tray down that I remembered the part about how I’d need the cream and sugar back for Lillian. When I tentatively asked how she liked her coffee, Willow sighed just like Hannah and told me that just cream was fine. Just another girl, judging me for something that was already quite the service.
Going to Lillian’s room was a similar experience in terms of how she acted around me. I honestly couldn’t tell if the girls had coordinated over text, or if they just spent enough time together that their personalities ended up overlapping. Lillian was actually at her desk, working on something. I didn’t know what, as my knocking on her door gave her plenty of time to close the device. For all I knew, it could be because she liked her privacy and didn’t want someone over her shoulder, or it could have been something related to me.
Once I set her meal down in a similar manner, without a word of thanks from her, I made yet another trip down to the kitchen to get started on the dishes. Unable to help myself despite my knowledge of the cameras, I started scratching my breasts over the maid outfit, then proceeded to do the same with my ass and my crotch. It barely helped; if anything, it made the itching worse. This had to be Hannah. What did she do?! Was it something in the uniform, or on my body? Without any experience with such pranks, I was oblivious to the powder a girl could use to create an effect like this.
Groaning in frustration, I temporarily gave up on my efforts to alleviate the increasingly uncomfortable sensations. The kitchen needed to be spotless, or I’d potentially be in trouble. After that, I was going to have to clear the trays in order of the girls I brought them to. Could I ask Hannah if this was her fault, and if I could shower and wear something else? That was a pretty big ask, when I could just as easily end up naked if I came across as ungrateful for what I had been given to start the day.
Nothing with the cruel blonde teenager was simple or easy.
Before I was finished tidying up in the kitchen, I heard the sound of all three girls chatting amongst themselves as they descended the stairs. A few seconds later, all three of them turned the corner. My eyes widened as I saw that each girl was fully nude. And they all were acting like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“What are you doing, Jessie?” Hannah asked, in response to how I had frozen in awkwardness at the sight, “Get back to your chores. Oh, and you have an important decision to make in an hour or two. Just so you know.”