SubscribeStar Story: The Tutor, Part 39

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Part 39

It turned out that the common bathroom on the main floor was little more than a warm-up.

The ones on the upper floor were much more involved. Trixie started me in the private bathroom attached to one of the guest rooms, and I could tell right away that it would take around twice as long to clean. There was a double vanity, a more spacious shower, and a jacuzzi that was both wider and deeper than any tub I had ever seen before. I would have to scrub that by hand just like everything else, and all of this was a space that was reserved for /guests/. It wasn’t that much of a leap to assume that the actual bedrooms would be even more daunting of a chore. Annabelle’s was at least this big, although I had been too focused on the collar and everything that led up to it when I had been in there the other day. Looking back, however, I could remember how it dwarfed the size of the bathroom in my little apartment.

Of the six rooms I had been assigned to clean, there was a good chance that the one I had already tackled had been the easiest. There was so much left to do, and I was still clinging to the hope that Annabelle wasn’t going to arrive when I was in the middle of cleaning one of the bathrooms while dressed like a maid. But I also couldn’t rush. Trixie wasn’t going to be supervising me, as she explained on the way up that she had her own chores to take care of. However, she would be inspecting my work, and coming around to check on me every now and then to make sure I was doing the job properly. That meant I couldn’t take shortcuts or use my own cleaning methods. If she caught me doing things the wrong way, then everything I had done so far would be for nothing.

When Trixie headed off to work on whatever she had on her list to still take care of for the evening, I gave the guest bathroom a more thorough look. Similar to downstairs, this room already looked plenty clean. The bedroom didn’t appear to currently be in use, and it stood to reason that Trixie or someone else would have taken care of the space the moment the guest(s) left. When perfection was expected, however, it wasn’t enough that the bathroom was tidy on sight. I was going to have to be as detailed as the blonde maid had pushed me to be downstairs.

Sighing to myself, I got to work. Using the same ‘top to bottom’ concept, I repeated the arduous process I had been walked through downstairs. The jacuzzi was easily the most difficult part, as there was no great spot to position myself to get the whole thing. Instead, I divided it up into quadrants and angled my body in the most awkward ways to ensure I cleaned every inch without messing up any of my work along the way. Then there were the uncomfortable parts that felt demeaning despite how Trixie wasn’t watching over me. Scrubbing both the toilet and the tiled floor by hand was just as rough as the first time, and a towel below my knees wasn’t enough to fully prevent a bit of soreness. My legs were admittedly a little bony, which didn’t lend itself well to constantly being down on the floor in such a way.

Without a watch or phone, I had no idea how long the guest bathroom took. Adding in the supervised job that came before it, as well as the laundry that I helped Trixie with, I had to assume it had been a while. Or maybe it had just felt like that. It was difficult to say. Normally, chores ended up being a lot less time consuming once you stop thinking about them and actually get to it. But personal lists at my apartment were a bit different than what had to be done for a whole household. And that was before getting into the high bar Trixie gave me.

Ultimately, I had to accept that dwelling on it wouldn’t help. Collecting all the cleaning supplies and leaving the bathroom in the ridiculous manner Trixie had taught me to avoid even slightly dirtying the floor I had just cleaned, I moved on to the next. And the next. And the next.

The communal bathroom in the upstairs hallway was a little more forgiving in terms of size, but then I was back to the larger jobs. Annabelle’s parents’ suite, as I was mildly familiar with that space after taking laundry in a couple times. When Trixie came back upstairs to make sure I was doing things up to her standards, she pointed me towards another spacious bedroom I hadn’t been in before. Did Annabelle have a sibling? No, that didn’t make sense. A room like this didn’t come close to comparing to the figurative apartment that Annabelle had all to herself. I was free to speculate, as there wasn’t much else to do with my thoughts while I cleaned in silence. It was probably just a spare guest room, as this family could obviously afford having multiple bedrooms before using the rest of them for private offices and whatever else rich people used excessive rooms for. I had just been thrown since it was a room I hadn’t needed to make a bed for.

I wasn’t particularly avoiding Annabelle’s space; it was just at the end of the hall and it made more sense to methodically work from one end of the house to the other. That’s what I told myself, anyway. In truth, it was more because I thought it would be a little weird to be in there without her. I knew that didn’t make much sense, considering that I literally hadn’t met Annabelle’s parents yet and had still been in their suite multiple times since becoming her tutor. But I /had/ met Annabelle, and it was her private room. Though I was currently dressed up like a maid and acting the part, I still considered myself a guest.

Also, I was a mess. The first bathroom had been enough to draw out a few beads of sweat as I scrubbed the floor by hand, and that had only gotten worse with each new area I worked on. While the maid uniform was more breathable than it looked, I would have much preferred shorts and a tank top when it came to being more physical. Cleaning bathrooms definitely counted as ‘physical,’ considering that state I was in. It’s not like I was /sweating/ sweating, but my face was definitely glistening a bit as I roughly scrubbed at the fifth bathroom floor in a row, as was my body underneath the outfit. My knees were more sore than ever, and the mirror in each bathroom was a constant reminder that I hadn’t just been dressed up by Trixie; I was also still collared. Even when the feeling of it on my neck faded into the back of my mind, the visual brought it to the forefront time and time again as I glimpsed my reflection.

Eventually, I had to suck it up and make my way down there. That was the only way to both get Trixie off my back, and to get her to put in a good word with Annabelle. I still couldn’t fully process the fact that I was relying on Annabelle’s maid for something like that, but I’d take any edge I could get when it came to dealing with the demeaning accessory I was locked in. Considering that I had kissed the impossible redhead and let her undress me /before/ she collared me, I could only imagine how easy it would be for her to get me off balance now that I was wearing the thing. And that wasn’t even taking into account the maid uniform that I was still desperate to get out of before she caught me in it.

Slipping into Annabelle’s suite, half expecting her to be sitting on the sofa with a smirk and wearing nothing but lingerie, I instead found a quiet and empty living room waiting for me behind the door. Letting out a quiet exhale of relief, as I wasn’t sure what I would have done if she was here, I made a beeline for the bathroom. I would be thorough, but I would also aim to get out of here as quickly as possible.

It was a little bit unfair how spoiled the girl was. I couldn’t even begin to think about growing up like this. The fact that she had a private bathroom to begin with was crazy, as was her spacious suite, but everything inside? Ugh. Not only was it as impressive as the rest of the bathrooms in terms of having a separate shower and a nice tub, but hers opened up into a walk-in closet that connected to her bedroom. Insanity. The only way I could afford something like this after university was if I started with a humble condo and gradually traded my way up over the decades. She probably had this from birth.

Right. My intention had been to hurry this job along. Turning away from the closet I had been wishfully gazing into, I set out my supplies for what would hopefully be the last time and stepped through the glass shower door. Quickly and efficiently, I started working from top to bottom like I was well accustomed to at this point. Shower, mirror, vanity, jacuzzi, toilet, floors. All the while, I kept a careful ear out for Annabelle. I wasn’t sure what my plan was for when she arrived, even though her arrival was all I could think about, but any warning would be better than nothing.

All my efforts ended up being for nothing; I don’t know why I expected any differently, considering how my last few experiences at Annabelle’s house had gone. Despite immaculately cleaning every single bathroom in the small mansion as efficiently as possible, as well as listening for the young redhead’s arrival, she still arrived at the worst possible time. Unexpectedly, too. Her arrival had been quiet enough that I hadn’t heard her in the slightest until she was right in the doorway, and her voice made me start in surprise even though she had spoken rather softly and casually. “Hey, Mere.”

I was in a terrible position. On my hands and knees, facing away from the bathroom door, and scrubbing at the floor in a rather subservient manner. Not at all the way I preferred to present myself, when I had always taken such care when it came to my image at the Alodia household. With how lucrative the initial offer they had made at the beginning of all of this was, of course I wanted to come off as professional as possible regardless of the fact that I was still in undergrad and not technically a working adult yet.

This was the complete opposite of that. And, by contrast, Annabelle looked fucking amazing.

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