Story: New Employee. Chapters 24-25.

by BigBird74

24.

Waiting can be tortuous at any time, but at a moment like this it was truly agonising. Okay, I had never liked waiting for anything. My privileged status in life meant that I was usually able to buy my way past queues. This, in turn, had bred a sense of exceptionalism into me: I did not wait for anything. So to find myself here waiting like a naughty schoolgirl for the headmistress felt so wrong. What was also wrong was the way that I grew more and more aroused as people passed by and knew I was in trouble. I felt about an inch tall as they passed by and smirked at the underdressed maid.

I was now regretting the order Katherine had put in for these wretched uniforms. They did very little to cover me and I felt exposed, my darkened skin so clearly visible underneath the cut of the dress. Tugging down on the hem provided no relief and only served to pull the dress further down my cleavage. This left just one option: to cower in the corridor like a shrinking violet, slightly bent over to help mitigate my exposure to those passing by. More time ticked by and then I remembered something that shook me to my very core. My phone! Oh god, I had left it in the changing room in amongst my other uniform! Abandoning my wait, I set off back towards the maid room, hurrying along the corridor.

“Where do you think you are going?” I turned to see the manageress glowering at me. “I said wait by my office, which is that way!” She pointed back along the passage to where I had just come from.

“Sorree. I remember I no have phone with me. I want to get it from my room”

The manageress looked impatient and smug in equal measure. She held up a plastic carrier bag.

“I think you will find what you are looking for in here.” I took a few steps towards her and raised my arm to take it from her. In those halting movements, our eyes again met. Mine searching for clues as to what she knew, trying to divine her purpose in all this. Hers a classic lesson in drawing a poker face. She held all the cards at that moment, whether or not she appreciated this.

She released the bag into my hand and I took it. As I did, I saw my arm shake, a tremor of fear and angst rippling throughout my body. She remained totally silent as I peered into the bag and saw my old uniform, but no phone. I rifled through the bag. It had to be here. That phone was my portal back to my old world!

The manageress cleared her throat. “Is this what you are so exercised about?” My phone dangled from her fingers. Her smile, narrow and amused, told me she had already been into the mail program. “We need to talk, please.. go inside”.

Instantly I detected a change in tone. Gone was the easy, firm dominance she exercised over me and the other maids. In its place, at least for this moment, seemed to be a less patronising tone. More measured.

I felt somewhat dizzy and rooted to the spot. Various scenarios were rattling through my mind: perhaps I could bribe her; just run and deny everything; beg her for help. I shuffled into the office, unable to compute the full gravity of my situation.

“Please, take a seat,” she paused, “Miss Webb”.

With that simple sentence all the air left my lungs and I almost fell into the chair. If the manageress had harboured any doubts about who I was, my pathetic reaction confirmed her opinion. Slumping into the chair, I struggled to find the strength even to lift my head. The weight I now felt on my shoulders seemed designed to slump my body down into a curve, emphasising the shame and helplessness I was now experiencing.

If there had been a ticking clock in the office, I am sure it would have slowed to a crawl at that moment. My senses were totally hyped to pick up any sudden noise or movement. I was sure I could hear my heart thumping between my ears, a pulsing headache now taking hold of me. We sat there in silence for too long. Each noise startled me: footsteps passing by the door, the air conditioning unit clattering into life, a message received on her phone.

She breathed in deeply. “I have written you an application to extend your stay with us…. Marta. It needs to be confirmed by Ms Webb. All she has to do is send an email confirming that it is ok.”

Her voice was self-assured, confident, very much in the driving seat. She handed me the phone. “It would be in everyone’s interest if that was done quickly. After all I would not want anyone else to get in the way.”

Was that a threat? Or was this some kind of reassurance? I was too stunned by her comment to say anything. Mutely, I nodded.

“I have already written a response. All you need do is click send,” she said softly, seeing how I had crumbled so completely before her.

I nodded again, my thumb hovering over the send button.

“Good girl, Katherine.”

My insides quivered as I pressed send.

25.

The manageress seems to have a skill of keeping everyone guessing. I had noticed this from the very first moment I had met her. This was no surprise. Her very presence had been a rather unpleasant surprise, replacing the jovial manager I had expected to wrap around my little finger.

As soon as I had sent the message confirming that I would be staying – perhaps trapped is a more appropriate word – for some time yet, she had snatched the phone back from me. Sometime later, I pondered why she had even given me the phone at that moment. I suppose it was her way of covering herself a little. To see how I would react and for me to seal my own fate. At that point I was still unaware that virtually everywhere in the hotel was being monitored. My act of acceptance was most likely recorded as well.

I watched, head still bowed low in contrition, whether for my actions or for merely being caught. Though not clear at that time, this would be one of the last times I saw my phone. The manageress again cleared her throat, drawing my attention toward her.

“Since you will be staying with us for longer, Marta, I have decided that you need to do this properly.”

I looked up, puzzled and fearful in equal measure.

“I assume you have left your other belongings in the locker room. Please hand me your key, you will have no need of anything left in there.”

I gazed coolly at the stupid girl. I could barely belief what I had found out barely ten minute ago, though it all made sense in a deeply disturbing and perverted way. Fortunately for Ms Webb, two things were preventing me from just dropping her like a stone. One, I found the whole affair highly arousing. This whole scene pushed my erotic buttons hard. My need for status and power, a related passion, was another reason. Both these desires could be met if this situation was carefully managed. 

Ms Webb was like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming car, trapped, not knowing whether to turn this way or that. I was the driver of that vehicle. I could simply run her over, destroy her and most likely myself with her. No, of much greater sense, is to accommodate this girl’s odd desires and to fluff my own pillows while doing so.

I was not sure how much I could milk from this, but I would do all I could to make it considerable. I held out my hand for her locker key. This was a key moment. When she sent the message from her phone, she merely accepted that she would be staying longer. This. This was an act of submission. Perhaps the first of many such steps. And who knows where they may lead for the both of us?

I could but only smile as she handed me the key. “Good girl,” I purred somewhat patronisingly, instantly letting her see that an invisible balance of power between us had shifted dramatically.


“Good girls deserve treats don’t they Marta?” Her darker hue did nothing to hide the rampant blushing she was now experiencing. Even so after a little more cajoling the little mouse started to nod.

“Does Marta want a treat?”

For the first time, since I took her into my office, she found a voice, though not the one I had been expecting to hear. Her clear cut accent, the highly educated tones of rich, young woman replied: “Yes… Yes please..”

I placed a lip to my finger to silence her. “That was not Marta speaking. If I want to hear Katherine, I will tell you.” She seemed to spasm on the spot. At that moment, I had my prey on a hook and I began to reel her in.

“Pleez Miss. Marta is good girl. Marta like treats. Pleez Marta have treat?”. Her accent was thick, lilted in a way that a casual observer might mistake for foreign. To my ears, alert to the deception at hand, it all sounded so fake. How could I have been so stupid before?

“Go to room 501. Wait for me outside.” I said as though I were talking to any regular maid. She paused and looked up for a moment, as though unsure of just what she had been expecting to hear at that moment. “I said go….” my voice was flat and commanding, as though I were talking to an errant child.

I watched the poor, confused and horny wretch stumble her way out of my room, shorn of any safe way of returning to her life as a rich heiress. My insides quivered in delight as I locked her phone and the key to her locker in my safe. Was I really going to do this? I smiled deviously as I checked my appearance in the mirror. 

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