Crystal's StorySite
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Miss Armani's Maid ~ Anne

by

Anne Bauer

© April 2003

 

Part I - Hired

 

I was very nervous and my hand shook when I retouched my lipstick in the rearview mirror before opening the car door. Once I'd straightened, I took a deep breath, told myself once again that I looked 'OK' before walked towards the motel lobby.

Feeling as though everyone was staring at the person dressed in the black suit, I clicked across the tiles to the front desk.

"Good morning, Ms." So far so good, the man hadn't addressed me as 'sir'. "How may we help you?"

"Hi. Could you direct me to the room of one of your guests, please?" I tried to speak softly and used as high a register as I could manage.

"The name?" he asked.

"Miss Julianna Armani."

"Are you expected?"

"Yes," I was too nervous to make eye contact.

"And your name please, Ms?" 'Why did he have to ask me so many questions?'

"Anne Summers." Still it was easier to say my chosen name than to argue with him.

The clerk picked up the house phone and dialed. "Good morning Ms. Armani - front desk… There is a Ms. Anne Summers here. She stated that you are expecting her… Five -seven, dark brown hair…" he was describing me.

"Black suit, white blouse and," he looked down at my feet, "black shoes.

"Very well." He placed the phone in its cradle.

"Room two forty-seven, Ms. Summers. Second floor, turn left when you exit the elevator," he instructed.

"Thank you," I started to turn.

"Good luck with for interview for the maid's position," he wished me. I questioned why my prospective employer had obviously stated the reason for my presence?

I paused outside the door, gathering my courage. Before I could knock, it opened, but I could not see the person behind the door.

"Come in, Anne," a pleasant, sultry voice bid. "Do not turn, just walk to the middle of the room." I started to shake as the door closed and I heard the security chain clink in its holder.

Her perfume I'd guessed to be expensive, but I'd no idea what the name of its fragrance was.

"Stop shaking, Anne." Both of her hands went to my waist. She did nothing but hold them there for several moments. "Turn around."

Until that moment, I'd no clear idea of what she looked like. Julianna Armani was taller than I was by two or three inches and her higher heels, compared to my mid-heeled pumps added a few more. In her mid-thirties, I guessed, she was a longhaired brunette with chiseled features accented with nicely applied makeup.

"Remove your sunglasses, please?" she gently requested. "Put them in your purse." She smiled when I'd complied.

"Please sit down." I moved to the hard straight chair she had motioned towards while she lifted her handbag from the bed then sat in the comfortable armchair. I put effort into trying to sit gracefully then posed with my knees together and feet to one side of my chair.

"We've covered much of the details through our emails. Tell me, now that we have met, your concept of the job that's available, Anne." She crossed her silk covered legs in a relaxed fashion. My employer (hopefully she was going to be that) was dressed in a gray jumpsuit accessorized with expensive boots and gold jewelry.

"It is my understanding that I'm to attend to all of the household chores…"

She interrupted with a smile on her coral lips, "You may address me a 'Miss Julianna', 'Miss Armani' or just 'Miss'."

"Yes, Miss Julianna… Your maid would be expected to do all of the cleaning, laundry, cooking and serving," I began. She requested more details, which I expanded.

"You left out the shopping," she giggled. "Yes, my maid will have to perform the household shopping too along with all of the chores in my household.

"You've told me that you've not been out very much as Anne and I can see that you were very nervous about what I had you do today. I shall not permit you to hide yourself, your status nor your position from my friends, or my guests, the maintenance men or the public…You will be required to go out in a proper uniform." I flinched, upon hearing her state that. "In fact, you will be required to be in a proper uniform at all times, except on your days off and you'll have to earn those." Miss Armani was going to be a difficult and demanding mistress.

"At all times, I will expect you to maintain a presentable and attractive appearance."

"I understand that, Miss Julianna."

"My maid will be a working one; as opposed playing fetish fantasy games though there may be some opportunities for them too. Your uniforms will be appropriate for the chores you will be required to perform, but don't be too disheartened, in fact there may be an occasional time when the appropriate uniform for the task will be as abbreviated and sexy as a French maid's can be." I smiled, upon hearing her say this.

We talked another hour and a half, during which time she added to my understanding of the position and explained some things I'd be required to do. I was permitted to ask whatever questions I wanted and she answered those.

"Before I offer you the job, Anne, I'd like to see you in one of the uniforms I consider appropriate for my maid. Please remove your suit?" Hesitantly, I stood and unbuttoned my cheap jacket. "Don't be shy, girl." She stood to accept it once I'd slipped out of it then my skirt followed.

"Are you wearing stockings or pantyhose?" she asked.

"They're pantyhose, Miss Julianna," I told her.

"But for your French uniforms, which might require tights, you are required to wear only stockings. Remove them. You may keep on the slip, bra, and what else is underneath." From the closet rod by the door, she carried over a garment bag, placed it on the bed then removed the gray dress of heavy cotton along with the other accessories she'd brought: girdle, stockings, shoes, headpiece and apron.

"I've no desire to see you naked. Take these in the bathroom and put them on. Also take your purse and redo your makeup. Though you did a nice job of applying it, you are wearing far more than is appropriate for the position."

The long, high-waist girdle was totally unlike any others I had worn; similar to a corset. Its heavy fabric was more canvas-like than the elastic nylon, Lycra and Spandex I was accustomed to. Full of wide steel bones, it had a hooking front busk that laced over that to tighten it. Once I'd put it on, I found that the hips and derriere were padded to enlarge that circumference by five inches, at least.

She had provided a heavy, long-line bra, large breast forms to fill its cups, as well as a plain, white cotton slip.

When I sat to open and put on the stockings, the boning and busk protested. While possible to sit, it wasn't comfortable, not at all. Bending to put my toes into the stocking was more difficult, but manageable. Though I'd never worn seamed hosiery before, I knew that they were supposed to be straight and clipped them to the heavy hardware on the wide garter straps while massaging the seams to conform to some imaginary line. Miss Armani had provided a pair of matching pumps to be worn with the uniform. These had fat, block heels about three inches high, inch-wide straps across the insteps and large, square buckles. I didn't like them, but the ugly shoes were comfortable once I stood to redo my face as ordered.

The dress buttoned up its back, giving me some difficulty in closing it. Before putting on the crisp bib-front apron, I took a moment to look in the mirror; stepping back as far as I could to see the above-the-knee hemline of the A-line skirt portion. The top of it ended across my false nipples under the pin-tucked bodice front and the hem two inches above the dresses. With the shoulder straps crossed and fastened in back, I fashioned the ties into a bow.

Like the cuffs of the three quarter length sleeves and pointed collar, the headpiece was stiff and white. Only the modest ruffles on the outsides of the straps over my shoulders were softer.

Miss Armani showed no emotion when I modeled for her after a polite curtsey.

"Come close and turn around," she ordered. "Place your hands back here on the bow." I did. She moved my fingers into the loops of the bow and my first thought was that she was going to tie them there.

"Feel the lengths of the loops and make them even... Good. Now move to the knot and straighten out the creases and wrinkles.

"Turn around. Your aprons are the symbols of your position, be proud of them and display them properly, Anne." She adjusted my headpiece.

Her eyes studied me. "You're still wearing too much make-up. Bring me a damp wash cloth." My prospective employer wiped the blush from my cheeks then removed my lipstick. A very pale pink was used to redo my lips.

"Go look in the mirror," she pointed towards the full-length one by the door. While I'd have chosen a much fancier and shorter uniform, what I was wearing was OK; I was being employed as a working maid and it was appropriate for that position. The subdued makeup didn't please me at all; I'd argue to wear more later, after I had showed her how good a job I could do.

"You look very nice, but you don't look happy about it… Perhaps I'll listen to your small complaints later." My thoughts were obviously unimportant.

"Gather up your things, Anne. We'll be going." Meekly I obeyed her. Once I'd put my clothes in the garment bag, my mistress handed me the room key and money.

"Chambermaids depend on tips to survive. What do you think I should leave for her?" She was poised with her open wallet in her hand. We'd not messed the bed and, but for the linens, I'd tidied up the bathroom after I'd finished.

"Five dollars, Miss Armani?" I asked questioningly. Though I'd used motels quite a few times, I'd never left a tip for the maid just doing her job.

"Very well." I saw no change in her demeanor to guess if it I was correct. The bill was placed on the pillow.

"Come along." I followed into the corridor where she stopped and pointed to my burden.

"I'll take that," she directed. When I'd handed her the hanger bag containing my suit and shoes, she added, "Go to the desk and check out. I'll wait for you in front until you are in your car then you will follow me to my home. Before I could react, the elevator door had open, but she held up her hand to stop my entering. "Use the stairs." The door quietly closed. I panicked and stood frozen for a moment, before continuing to the lobby.

"Well," the desk clerk smiled, you must have gotten the job. Congratulations, Anne." It irked me that this man knew my name from the start and what I'd been doing upstairs.

"We'll be checking out," I murmured as I offered him the room key in my shaking hand.

As she'd stated, my employer was waiting behind the wheel of a green Jaguar sedan.

As I drove, the girdle was both highly uncomfortable and strangely erotic. I'd liked the new image I'd seen reflected and it felt very feminine to be wearing it. The rear padding lifted me some from the seat and that too was different.

I was very pleased that my employer had accepted me as her maid and fulfilled a long-held fantasy. I'd no thoughts of becoming rich in this career; wages were legal minimum, but all uniforms and my basic needs like room and board provided additional compensation.

It was to an older suburb, north of the city; one populated by the moderately wealthy, but not the filthy rich, whose mansions I'd expected. From the mature trees and the landscaping, I guessed her Tudor styled home might have been built in the early nineteen hundreds. I turned into the driveway and watched the automated door on the single car, detached garage close behind her car.

"Come along, Anne," she called. I locked my car and walked to where she waited.

"The servant's entrance is around back. When I open it for you, do not move until I've introduced you to the dogs." I was suddenly very frightened. When I was a child, a neighbor's Doberman attacked me, after I'd climbed their fence and gone into their yard to fetch my Frisbee. No, I wasn't mauled nor was I bitten; Hans just wouldn't let me move and I had to stand still all afternoon, until his owner had came home and called him off. Ever since, I've been deathly afraid of all dogs.

Shaking, I took the flagstone path between the house and garage. I could hear her pets begin to bark long before I reached the door. When it opened and they leapt towards me, I screamed! The white dogs were huge! In reality, they only appeared to be the size of polar bears. At the time I'd no idea that they were Samoyeds and only weighed about sixty pounds each; it was too terrifying for me!

"Tasha, 'Kita, this is my new Maid," Miss Armani introduced in a firm voice. "Maid is OK." Strangely, their barking stopped. "Smell Maid!" I couldn't quell my worries. They had to sense my fear!

The two dogs circled me, pressing their snouts into my thighs. One's head went under my dress and pushed her nose in my crotch. This continued for an eternity. I stood - frozen to the spot.

"Kneel, Maid," she commanded. Without thought, I sank to my knees. The dogs could then smell my face and my hair.

"Maid," I heard then a command to the dogs. 'Sit." Both of the beasts sat; their faces just inches from mine.

"Make friends, Maid. Pet them." Tears streamed down my cheeks. I did not want to touch them - I couldn't touch them. One of them licked my hand.

"Come inside." She closed the door, leaving her dogs outside. She took my hand and led me from the mudroom into the kitchen and made me sit at the small table.

"My dogs will not hurt you, Anne," Miss Armani started trying to calm my then obvious deep fear of her two pets. It was a long time, I don't know how long, before I had calmed enough to repair my makeup. That wasn't the moment to request that I be permitted to wear it heavier, even if just a little. I was not in a condition to think of anything.

"As you can see, this is the kitchen," she began. I could tell it had been completely redone within the past few years. "You may think of it as 'the maid's room' when you are on duty; it's your base of operations, if you will," she continued. The table where we were just sitting is where I expect you'll take your meals." I then numbly followed to a breakfast nook that overlooked the rear gardens and pool.

"Please let the dogs in, they're probably thirsty." Reluctantly, I opened the door so the dogs could enter. One just bounded past me, but the other stopped for a sniff. Very hesitantly, I made the effort and briefly rubbed between her ears, causing the longhaired dog to wag her tail vigorously.

"I think 'Kita likes you, Anne," Miss Armani giggled. "By the way, you are to speak to her only as Miss Nikita and her sister, they're twins, as Miss Natasha. They'll understand when you address them properly.

"Shall we continue?" my mistress was watching me closely from the doorway.

" 'Kita, stay with Maid - guard Annie." The large animal moved so that her shoulder was within inches of my left thigh.

"They are very well trained and very obedient," she causally informed me.

My employer took me to the basement, which was a professionally done into large, finished entertainment room complete with wet bar and cooking facilities.

"I do not entertain as much as I did when my late husband was alive, but there are occasions. Your work room is through here." Miss Armani opened the door to a spacious laundry room. I noticed it even had a large television, but she had permitted only a brief glimpse. "There is a telephone there and a door chime. The kitchen and maid's quarters are similarly equipped.

"I will not be answering the phone nor the door, those are your jobs now," I was told.

"This is a small workshop. It has all the tools and things you might need for simple household repairs and decorating. Do let me know if you cannot handle anything." She closed the door of the cramped workspace and turned for the stairs, but stopped. "Anne, everything has a proper place to be at a given time. Do not forget that." It was stated sternly as a warning not to leave the tools lying about after their use.

"Yes, Miss Julianna."

"And I will expect a curtsey from you when spoken to." I lifted the sides of my dress and bent my knees to acknowledge.

"Don't look so frightened, there are no hidden dungeons here," she laughed; still trying to relieve some of the tension from my first encounters with her dogs.

For the best part of the afternoon I was given a tour of the rest of her home with explicit instructions regarding the chores I would be required to do in each room and where things were stored.

"I'll expect the bed linens in my room changed three times a week. They are to be ironed prior to being placed in the linen closet there," she pointed to a hallway closet door prior to going into her suite on the second floor. "Bath linens shall be replaced after each use.

"Each morning after you have cleaned the kitchen, you are to make up my room first. Need I detail everything that entails?"

"No, Miss Julianna, I believe I know what is required here and in the rest of the house," I said confidently and curtseyed. Her smile seemed to convey that she didn't believe me.

"Very well, I shall be pleased, if you can show me that you indeed do … without further instructions." My employer's tone was condescending.

"We shall conclude in the maid's quarters. They are on the floor above." To reach the attic, access was gained through a narrow door at the end of the hall and up a very narrow and steep stairway. The dog had been at my side the entire time. As we could not mount the stairs side-by-side, she moved behind to do so without command.

"This was the original maids' quarters when my grandfather designed the house and had it built. Imagine that they had two maids and a cook then and all three of them shared this same space, Anne." The main room was small, only about seven by nine feet. "When I decided to hire a maid about a year ago, I had it completely remodeled and I added the bathroom and closet by expanding into the attic space. Grandpa's servants didn't even have running water or indoor plumbing up here, though the family adequately provided for themselves on the floor below. So, before you complain about the maid's quarters being cramped, consider that you have those amenities available and three times the space for yourself in the bedroom."

Miss Armani pointed to a keyboard and small monitor, only about a nine-inch one. "That is only a terminal with limited computing abilities. I've set up an email account for you so you may maintain your friends and social life. Initially your chores are going to keep you quite occupied and I doubt that you will have enough free time available to miss the Internet.

"Your email address is MissArmanisMaid (one word) at maids dot org and I've taped it to the top of the monitor for you, in case you forget."

She picked up a remote from beside the keyboard and turned on the large, wall mounted television. "This is not what you probably think it is." When the color screen had illuminated, I saw it was connected to an extensive closed circuit security system and the picture was divided into quarters. One view was of the two of us with Miss Nikita in the room and the other three were looking outside the house.

"You can switch to the other cameras." My room remained in one corner of the screen while the others changed as she switched camera several times. "The cameras you may monitor can be blocked when I desire my privacy and will show as a blank picture. You can also switch to only one camera." The picture changed to show only the room we occupied and filled the screen.

Miss Armani glanced at the digital clock above the door then slid aside one of the mirrored doors. From the selection of uniforms hanging inside, she withdrew a black one trimmed in white and a white apron.

"You are to be in evening uniform by five o'clock each day. I'll leave you to change and freshen up, Anne. Black stockings are in the drawer and select another pair of appropriate shoes to wear." My employer began to leave.

"Take the opportunity to become friends with your guardian," she said jovially, while closing the door.

I'd only seventeen minutes to do what I'd been told to. At least, by then, I'd lost much of my fear of the big dog who had moved to lay across the door with her large head up, watching me. 'Was her white dog my guardian or my guard?' I concluded she was the latter.

I had to put the damned girdle back on after using the bathroom, as I'd no other way to hold up the stockings and no time to search for a comfortable garter belt. When I tried to button the front of the uniform, I discovered that I had to tighten the thing in order to do so. The skirt ended right across my knees and was much tighter than the gray one. It differed further with snug, long sleeves ending in white, French cuffs and a white, V collar. No other headpiece had been selected, so I replaced the one I'd had on.

Looking in the bottom of the closet, I concluded that the shoes were going to be a problem for me. Black was the only appropriate color and I'd three selections from which to choose. They were identical, spike-heeled ankle-strapped pumps differing by heel height and the highest pair was patent leather. I selected the calfskin ones with four-inch heels; the highest I was accustomed to, and placed them on my feet. I didn't look forward to wearing either of the other pairs.

After recoating my lips, I was ready, but the dog hadn't moved. "Are you going to get out of the way, or what?" I asked aloud. The stupid beast played statue. "Come, Miss Nikita, get up or you'll make me late." She stood.

When I stepped closer, I heard a soft growl. "Please, move your big butt out of my way?" In response to my request, 'Kita resumed her former position.

"Miss Nikita, please?" She stood again. I noticed that she had not been looking directly at me, but seemed to be looking behind, towards the bed. I turned and saw the white half apron there.

"Do you expect me to believe you are trained not to let me out of my room unless I'm wearing my apron?" She gave a short, quiet bark. This was too much! I turned to approach the door after adjusting the ties; she was once again laying across it.

"Miss Nikita…" As soon as her name left my pink lips, she stood and moved to my side.

I rushed down the stairs then to the kitchen. Miss Armani stood as I approached; a mischievous grin played across her face.

"Five o'clock means five o'clock, not three minutes past, Anne.

"Turn so I can check." When I had, I heard, "Your seams are crooked - straighten them." Only her maid for a few hours and already she was finding fault with my performance.

"Explain why you are late." As if she didn't know - the TV set had been turned so she could watch and my room was on it, full-sized.

"The dog wouldn't…" Her hand shot up to interrupt me.

"Are you being deliberately disobedient or just plain stupid?" 'What had I said?' I took a moment to think about all of it. It was my fault that I was late, not Miss Nikita's.

It was my fault that I was late, not Miss Nikita's. "I failed to address Miss Nikita properly, Miss Julianna." My employer's stern countenance softened, somewhat, and she nodded for me to continue. "As a result of my failure, she wouldn't stand up when I asked her to move."

"Perhaps you possess some limited amount of intelligence and have learned from this lesson so as not to repeat it in the future.

"I told you when I introduced you to them that they are well trained and obedient. They will never harm the maid and they will protect you as they would me. Both will also obey your commands. I hope she has taught you to address her properly, Anne?" It was a question.

"Yes, Miss Armani," I curtseyed.

"You look good in your evening uniform," she complimented. "As it is evening, a bit more makeup might look alright." Her smile told me that she knew how I felt about her idea of appropriate day makeup and was offering a small reward.

"How do you feel?" I was asked after I'd thanked her. "Does the girdle bother you?"

"Yes, Miss Julianna, it does, especially when I sit."

"Standing though, is it acceptable?" I didn't see the trap I was walking into. "It improves your figure immensely; boyish hips on a girl are not attractive. So, it really only bothers you when sitting?"

"That's correct, Miss Julianna." She grinned broadly.

"Then it should be no problem at all for you. Recall when we discussed your position in chat; that I stressed and made it clear that this job is a working one and your days will be filled with chores? Very few of the tasks you are expected to do require you to sit to perform them, so wearing that girdle should be no problem at all for you.

"It grows late. Show me that you are the excellent cook you told me you are. I'll dine at seven in the dining room." Before I could do more than start to curtsey, Miss Armani had left the kitchen. 'She not even told me what she'd like for her supper!' I had an hour and forty minutes.

At least the large refrigerator and freezer offered me many different options. As I selected the ingredients, my white cuffs threatened to soil easily and required protection. Once I'd found a new pair of blue rubber kitchen gloves and put them on, I worried about the rest of my uniform. It was just too risky not to attempt to do something. I'd seen a flowered pink smock hanging in the mudroom when I'd arrived. It had seen better days, but would do the job.

With large shrimp chilling for an appetizer, a salad of lettuce, mushrooms, red onions and yellow peppers assembled and a chicken breast prepared to sauté with garlic in butter, I finished the meal preparations by placing asparagus spears in a shallow dish to boil just before serving.

I was setting the dining room table with china and silver from the cabinet when my employer entered. "Go back in the kitchen, immediately!" Clearly she was angry.

The two dogs had bounded in to join her on either side when I'd turned. "Take that … that thing off immediately!" Miss Armani moved to what was a broom closet. "Discard it … into the trash!" she commanded as she extracted a shiny white garment from the closet and offered it to me.

"I am, in part, at fault for not instructing you regarding your pinafore," Miss Armani was again calm and soft. "I was delinquent by not providing this one to you. Put it on." She waited as I sorted out the thin, but slightly stiff and slick material; I'd no idea what the fabric was. It was long enough and wide enough to cover my uniform nearly completely, but for my sleeves, when I'd tied the streamers in a large bow behind.

"Much better. The pinafore is made of the same fabric, I believe it is fused Dacron, that they use to make sails. You will find it is nearly impervious to water and dirt and can be wiped off with a sponge.

"It looks good on you.

"While I was at fault, your error was bigger, Anne. Unless you are doing heavy cleaning, never again let me see you outside of the kitchen wearing it to protect your uniform or with your rubber gloves on. Am I clear on this?"

"Yes, Miss Julianna."

"That brings up another matter, I've given some thought to. I've provided you with too many options for properly addressing me. Delete, 'Miss Julianna; 'Miss Armani or 'Miss' will suffice." Abruptly, she turned and left the kitchen with one of the dogs at heel, the other came close with her tail wagging. It was Miss Nikita; her collar was pink while Miss Natasha's was red. Hesitantly, I petted her head, which caused her to rub her side along my leg.

I got an idea. It took but a moment to find a box of dog biscuits under the sink. I offered one to her, but she only smelled it while her tail wagged vigorously.

Clapping startled me. "Very, very good, Anne. You must talk to her though. Go ahead and try it," she was giggling quietly. A bit embarrassed, I tried to think of what was appropriate.

"Would Miss Nikita like a biscuit?" The dog sat and assumed the begging position. "Say please, Miss Nikita."

"Woof!" The dog bone left my fingers. I returned to setting the table after removing the gloves and new pinafore. Miss Nikita resumed her earlier place; walking about on my left side.

A bell summoned me from the dining room and I curtseyed to her, "You rang, Miss Armani?"

"A glass of sherry and select an appropriate wine for my dinner," she said without removing her eyes from the laptop resting on her thighs nor stopping her typing.

I found a tray in the china cabinet, filled a glass then served with a coaster and napkin on the end table next to her chair.

"Miss Armani?" I hesitantly dared to break her concentration.

"Thank you for the wine. Dismissed." I dared to repeat the words.

"What?" Her head snapped to face me.

"I'm an ignorant maid, Miss. I know nothing about what might be an appropriate wine for your meal, Miss."

She smiled, "Of course not, Anne. What am I having?" I told her and she told me of several suitable varieties and to chill one.

I did my best to serve her meal courses properly from the left and remove the plates and utensils from the right. I moved to stand behind to her left while she ate.

"Coffee, black, one cup. Put the remaining wine in the refrigerator," She said when satisfied from her repast. Throughout the entire meal, not one word had been spoken until I served the coffee.

"Stand there," her hand waved me to the opposite end of the table, her tone neutral. She resumed eating, once I'd curtseyed.

"Most of the times, I am not going to say, 'please' when I tell you to do something or even when I ask. I'm also not going to thank you for doing that which is your job or what I'm paying you to do. Your job here is to satisfy me and I'm not going to say 'please satisfy me'.

"Further, do not expect me to compliment you just because you have satisfied me.

"Other than that, the meal was excellent," she smiled, "thank you.

"Be sure to eat your meal and clean the kitchen. That will be all."

It was nine o'clock when I'd just removed and hung the pinafore on its peg. Miss Armani entered wearing a light coat and carrying a clear plastic cape. She looked about; inspecting her kitchen.

"Good, you've finished." I was offered the cape and assumed I was to put it on.

"Before you retire at the end of your day, I expect that you'll have walked the dogs." Silently, I groaned, but followed with them to the mudroom. "Tonight I'll go with you to show you the way." I was handed a canvas shoulder bag. "There is a scoop and a number baggies inside along with paper towels. You will clean up their mess after them." She waited until I'd hung it over my shoulder under the cape which, because there was no zipper or buttons I had to put over my head. Large, yellow reflective tape lettering said, 'MAID' front and back. My employer hadn’t joked when telling me that I'd not be permitted to hide my status.

She helped me don a pair of thin latex, surgical gloves. "I'm sure you don't want to touch it."

Next were long, flat leather leashes. "Remember what I said, the dogs will obey you if you talk to them as befits your position." She moved back a bit, expecting me to do it all.

"Here Miss Nikita. Want to go for a walk?" My guardian dog moved close so I could clip the leash. It was just as easy with her sister. I was given a battery lantern to carry then was instructed on how to set the security system. "Your keys hang on the peg here unless you're out, Anne, then put them around your neck or in your purse." The lanyard was placed over my head, inside of my cape.

The dogs seemed eager when Miss Armani opened the door. "Talk to them, Anne!"

Not sure just what I was to do I said, 'Stay Miss Nikita, stay Miss Natasha," then followed my mistress outside. "Heel, Miss Nikita, heel Miss Natasha." They moved beside me, tails wagging. I was still uneasy, but the dogs were becoming familiar.

"Keep them at heel until you reach the sidewalk then walk them. Go left, Anne." I had no problem at all until I told the dogs to 'walk'; the strong animals nearly toppled me when they ran ahead and their leashes snapped taut at the same time.

"I don't think I can control them, Mistress," I blurted as I was being rapidly pulled ahead faster than the unfamiliar high-heel I wore wanted me to go.

"You are being silly, you know?" she was laughing. "I told you, how many times now, to talk to them, Anne?"

"Please, Miss Nikita, Miss Natasha, slow walk?" I bleated. Amazingly, they slowed to what was a comfortably pace for me, though my abused feet were then killing me and it wasn't comfortable.

The animals would stop to sniff, but did nothing else until we reached the large park. I was directed to turn right on the asphalt path. Though it was past nine o'clock and dark, many others: walkers, joggers and a few others with their dogs were using it. For the most part, the pets were remarkably well disciplined with little barking or untoward behavior.

Dutifully, I cleaned whatever mess mine made. Though humiliating, it beat changing my nephew's diaper the few times I'd been roped into babysitting him.

"May we go back now, Miss Armani?"

"The dogs and you need the fresh air and exercise, Anne," was her answer. "When you walk them in the morning before I get up at eight o'clock, I expect you'll have circled the park then too."

Finally, about ten, I was dismissed and sent to the maid's quarters. I was exhausted. As I undressed, there was a soft knock on the door, As soon as I opened it, 'Kita pushed me aside and came in, her tail wagging.

"Did you come to guard me for the night, Miss Nikita?" I was too tired to get upset over her intrusion. Instead, I carefully petted her and continued to prepare for bed. 'Kita was lying across the door again when I emerged from the tiny bathroom wearing the long, cotton gown that I'd found in the closet. Turning out the lights, I crawled under the covers, settled on the hard, thin mattress and pulled the covers around.

The dog had probably been taught where she was to sleep; and promptly jumped up on my bed and lay down next to me. Exhausted, I just wrapped my arm about her chest, scrunched back against the wall and pulled her tightly to my belly then quickly fell asleep.

It was five thirty when she decided that it was time for me to get up by rolling over and licking my face.

"Stop it!" I protested. "Get off!" Of course she didn't listen.

"Miss Nikita, door!" I remembered, once I gathered my wits. She went to lie across the doorway where she stayed until I'd bathed in the tiny tub, done simple makeup and dressed in a full shirted pale pink, thin cotton, short cotton uniform covered by a white cotton pinafore. It was six twenty when she followed me down to the kitchen. I selected white pumps identical to the gray ones, but for their color. None of the shoes available for my use had less than three-inch heels.

"I guess I should feed you, Miss Nikita. Where's your food?" I asked when I didn't find it under the sink where the dog bones were. She bumped me and I followed to find just a fifty pound bag of, 'Complete ~ The Balanced Diet for Mature Dogs'. I filled the two dishes there and refilled the two large water bowls. "Feed, Miss Nikita."

While the kettle heated for tea, I poured a glass of orange juice and found cold cereals, as well as oatmeal. I opted for the hot meal.

"Where's your sister? Find Miss Natasha, Miss Nikita. Time to walk you two. Find Miss Natasha! Bring Miss Natasha, Miss Nikita!" The big dog bounded out and I put on the cape, sorted their leashes and set my key in the security panel to disarm it.

Clearly she was not in a pleasant mood when she entered the room; with the two dogs at heel. "What the Hell do you think you are doing?" she demanded.

I didn't think of my position when I responded defiantly, "Exactly what you told me to do! Walk the dogs, plural, once around the park and be back before eight!" Without conscious thought I checked my wristwatch - six thirty-two.

She stood, glaring at me, fists on her hips. It could have been a funny picture- she wore a see-through black baby doll top and absolutely nothing else! It wasn't humorous; her anger, probably by being awakened too early by Miss Nikita was not sitting well.

We stood facing, several minutes. "Kita, 'Tasha, obey Maid!" They had started to follow her out.

"Miss Natasha, Miss Nikita, heel!" I called after the retreating the dogs and they returned so I could leash them.

I was more than a little embarrassed by the looks I received while out with the dogs. The guys looked at me with what was clearly lust in their eyes and the women's expressions indicated I was beneath them. I wasn't the only maid in the park that morning, I must have passed thirty or more, but clearly I was the only Caucasian one. The majority of them was clearly Hispanic, which didn't surprise me, six were blacks, there were a few Asian Indians and, just before I exited the park to return to the house, I encountered one. She walked a creamy toy poodle.

"Hi Tasha, 'Kita," she greeted the dogs cheerily as she approached. I called my dogs to heel then ordered them to sit.

"Hi," she curtseyed to me with a smile. "You new! You Miss Armani maid?"

"Yes, I'm Anne," I nervously told the cute Asian.

"Hi, Anne. I Joi. Work Dockor Livers, cross sleet," she giggled as she spoke with accented English.

"Must go, walk Fluffy. Bye" She'd not stopped, but had passed slowly.

I bid her 'bye' and returned to the house with the two dogs at heel.

"Good morning, Miss Armani." She sat, fully dressed, drinking coffee in the breakfast nook.

"No breakfast for me this morning," was all she said. She took her coffee cup and started to leave the room.

"Come, girls," she turned her attention to greet her pets.

"Miss Armani, what would you like me to do?" I called after her.

"Chores," Was her terse reply and she left. I was hurt. My employer had barely spoken to me and I don't think she'd even looked in my direction; I wanted some interaction with her. Maybe she wasn't feeling well; a headache or something?

I assembled the cleaning things I thought I might need in a bucket and carried it with my pinafore up to her bathroom where I was going to begin. Having no idea when the bath linens had been changed last, I removed all of them from the bars. Opening the hamper that was there, I found that it was full; doing laundry was added to my list of things to do that day.

Bending to properly scrub the tub and other lower surfaces reminded me of the girdle; it was very uncomfortable. I needed to ask her if I could wear a garter belt or, better, pantyhose.

I did remember to remove the protective covering and the gloves before I started on her bedroom. Beginning with her bed, I stripped off its satin sheets and pillowcases. It was king-sized and I would have to do several loads of laundry to accommodate the additional bed linens.

Opening the linen closet to select fresh ones, I found a large laundry basket filled to more than overflowing in the bottom and nearly empty shelves above. There was nothing available to make up her bed again and only two towels and a washcloth, which weren't part of a matching set. They would have to do until I completed at least part of my laundry chores.

It required four trips down to the laundry room just to carry all of it there; her closet had contained another overflowing basket of clothing. Before sorting everything out, I selected a set of bed linens and a matching set of towels and washcloths for the bathroom. With the presence to read their labels for care, I discovered they required separate wash cycles. I filled the washing machine with more bed linens, started it and returned upstairs. Just dusting, straightening things and vacuuming the carpeting in her room required forty minutes by which time the first load in the washer should have been finished.

The second floor contained three more bedrooms; one with a en-suite bathroom, and another full bathroom off the hallway. They were all tidy, but needed dusting and vacuuming.

About eleven thirty, the phone in her bedroom rang. After the third ring, I finally remembered that I'd been explicitly told to answer the phone and rushed to do so.

"Good morning, Armani residence, Anne speaking."

"Hi, do I know you?"

"No sir. I'm the new maid and just started yesterday."

"Put your mistress on."

"May I ask who is calling, sir?"

"Walt Gilmore."

"One moment sir while I locate Miss Armani." I set the phone on the table and descended to find Miss Armani in her den reading the screen of her PC.

"Miss Armani, you've a phone call; a Mr. Walter Gilmore." She nodded and picked up the phone beside her. I curtseyed and was about to leave. The loud snap of her finger caught my attention and her finger angrily stabbed at my feet. I stood still, just inside the room.

"Hi, Walt… Yes, I just hired her… She has a lot to learn…her looks alone aren't going to hack the program." There was a pause. While listening, her eyes continued to move all over me.

"Certainly… See you about three then… Bye." Miss Armani hung up the phone.

"You're a mess," she began. "In the future, you will remember to knock twice before entering a room where I'm occupied. If the door is closed, you are to wait until told to enter then wait until I acknowledge you before you speak. Is that part clear?"

"Yes Miss Armani."

"Very well. Where are you with your chores?"

"The rooms upstairs have all been dusted and vacuumed. Your bathroom has been cleaned. I still must make up your bed, Miss."

"Why haven't you made it yet?" she demanded.

"There were no clean linens…"

"I did not ask you for excuses!"

"Yes, Miss. I still must iron a set."

"Is that all? Have you completed anything else this morning?"

"No, Miss Armani, I haven't." I felt so small.

"I see.

"Take a few moments to make yourself presentable then make me a grilled cheese sandwich. I'll eat it here with a glass of diet Coke. Dismissed."

"Yes…"

"I do not need to hear you to say, 'Yes, Miss Armani' every time I speak to you, Anne." Nearly in tears, I curtseyed and left the room.

When I brought her lunch, I was not dismissed, but made to stand there while she ate between working on her computer. I moved close to place everything on the tray I'd held when she'd finished.

"Did you leave the telephone off the hook from the call you took earlier?" I gasped. "Best attend to it when I dismiss you then.

"Stand by the door." I moved to obey.

"Clean those things. Do the needed ironing and make up my bed. Assure that the downstairs rooms are tidy.

"I'll be entertaining two guests for dinner here this evening. See that you have thoroughly groomed yourself properly, that means a shower, dress in what I've laid out on your unmade bed! I'll expect you to prepare a nice evening meal for my guests and me. We'll dine about six. Be sure you are ready to greet my guests at the door prior to their expected arrival. Is there anything you do not understand?"

"No, Miss Armani. I understand I'm to be ready by three."

"You are my maid, a servant, nothing else. Though you may be present and hear things, you do not listen to what is said and, since you do not listen to them, you can never repeat them.

"I expect my guests to arrive around three." Small teardrops ran down my cheeks. I had worked very hard and fault was found with every thing I'd done!

"Anne, look at me." For the first time since I'd brought lunch, her brown eyes left the screen and met mine. She smiled warmly.

"You still have a lot to learn, that's all. You are new to me and new to what it means to be a real maid.

"Dismissed."

 

End of Part I

  

  

  

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