Tuesday, July 17, 2018

Story: A Good Deed Rarely Goes Unpunished

by Jackie J


Raining again does it never stop raining here how a girl is supposed to look her best with this incessant wet cold weather is beyond me. My shoes will be wet and muddied again for sure another job for my assistant Janet when I get to the office. Smart is key I have always thought when it comes down to work the choice of wardrobe reflecting ones roll and position. Crisp white silk blouse and tailored navy Dior suits always my preference.  My apartments are within walking distance of the office but it will have to be a cab again I am not having my hair blown and messed by the weather that’s for sure but just that short walk up the gravel pathway to the office entrance will be enough to stain my heels, I just know it will, puddles always puddles.

Stepping out of my apartments, much too big for one person but who cares, that bloody beggar girl is still there, wet through, wrapped in a filthy blanket with her hand out. Three days why someone hasn’t moved her on I just don’t understand.

Cab drivers always hanging out for at tip, ridiculous a short journey and still expecting to be overpaid well not from me the fare is the fare and he will be satisfied with that.

I was right, walking into the office my heels are muddied from one of the many puddles, whoever laid this path should be fired and if I knew who I would do it without hesitation.

Heels tossed to Janet for cleaning sipping on my coffee I enter my office. Someone has messed with the thermostat again twenty degrees not eighteen it will be those bloody cleaners again I must have a word with their supervisor I swear they do it just to annoy me.

I shouldn’t complain really, I have it better than most, would I really be vice president of Carrington banking if my late father had not founded it?  Probably not but I have Janet to do all the brain work, here she comes now.

“Yes, Janet what is it speak up stop mumbling for goodness sake?”

“Your heels Miss Wiltshire.”

Miss Wiltshire, not Carrington, I still chuckle at that, my late father’s idea a secret between just him and me, a name that I am now stuck with until I am twenty-eight, he didn’t feel it would be right using my real name and staff knowing I was his daughter and by birth rather than achievement I am enjoying the obvious privileges of my status. Not a problem in itself having an assumed name my legitimate documents, in my real name of Miss Roberta Carrington, banking documents and the like are safely consigned to the back of a drawer in my apartments all I need is to apply for a passport when the time arrives and Miss Carissa Wiltshire I am to all who know me for my time in London.

 “Well don’t just stand there waving them at me.”

Sitting back, I swivel in my chair to face Janet lifting my left foot then my right for Janet to slide the heels in turn onto my stocking clad feet.

I watch Janet standing back and watch her smile I know she admires me my perfect hair and makeup and clothes always high-end designer. I treat her like a dog’s body but she doesn’t seem to mind, she is well paid and enjoys the responsibility of doing most if not all of my work. I hate figures and spread sheets but Janet seems to live for them, happen as well I would be useless without her.

“Yes, Janet you have something to tell me?”

“Miss don’t forget you have the corporate responsibility meeting at two, the company are launching the individual incentive program today it could be exciting, helping others?”

Swivelling back my chair behind my desk I cannot help but sigh.

“Corporate mumbo jumbo if you ask me Janet, we pay our taxes that should be enough someone always having their hand out makes me sick and that fool in Human Resources who dresses like a refugee, always pushing some lost cause or other. But yes, Janet I know and I will be there two sharps in the board room unless I find my nails need filing.”

Of course, I will have to go and pretend to look interested.

Well that’s two hours of my life that I won’t get back, a complete waste of time. What a bloody oaf that HR woman is expecting me a senior vice president of the company to spend my valuable time, social time at that, “Seek out those in need and help them on their way by charitable gestures.” Where she dreamed that strap line up I would like to know it is meaningless, charitable gestures why did she not just say, keep cash handy and give it away to any one with their hand out.

Out in the fresh air and no rain what a relief, now where is my cab.

“Yes, yes I am coming no need to keep beeping your horn.”

“Rose Croft buildings driver.”

“Yes, I know it is just the other side of the park gardens, do you want the fare or not?”

Two hundred yards and I am back outside my apartments and the beggar girl is still here.

I am still annoyed from the pointless meeting and having paid the surly cab driver I slam the door before he speeds off. I should look where I am going but I don’t and turning quickly it is over before I know it. I trip on a discarded can and my heel, catching the kerb, snaps sending me sprawling over the pavement, to make things worse the contents of my purse spill out over the footpath.

Laid on the floor dishevelled and clutching my ankle in agony I watch helpless has the beggar girl from outside my apartment’s starts picking up the belongings from my purse?

“Hey stop thief I will have the police on you, leave that stuff where it is.”

The girl ignores me and continues to pick up the items and then to my surprise puts them back into my purse.

“I am not a thief, let me help you.”

Well I didn’t expect this she is helping me to my feet and with the girls support we are hobbling through the main door of the apartments.

I catch my reflection in the large reception mirror my stockings snagged, the heel snapped from one of my shoes and my jacket soiled with a rip on the sleeve I look more like a tramp than she does but I am in too much pain to care.

“Which floor are you on?

What she is taking me to my apartment why would she do that I have ignored her and not given her a penny still I don’t see anyone else around to help?

“Erm, Raghu my bloody ankle erm, the top floor the penthouse suites.”

Out of the lift that opens directly into my apartments, aided by the girl, I am limped into the lounge and clumsily slid down onto the sofa.

I have been pampered all my life and any acts of kindness I have taken for granted or went unrecognised it was just what people did for me wasn’t it?

The girl genuinely looks concerned staring down on me, this is awkward, what do I say but she speaks first?

“Will you be alright do you need to contact someone.”

I know I perhaps shouldn’t but I am so mad at myself more than anything else for being so stupid falling like I had I snap at the girl.

“Do I look alright? Arch my bloody ankle, pass me my phone it’s in my purse”

A number dialled I watch the girl looking around my opulent apartment expensively furnished yes but quite untidy well a mess the whole place is, bloody cleaners why they keep leaving I just don’t know.

“Janet, Janet its Carissa come to my apartments right away I need you. What, well cancel your appointment I need you here, I don’t care you will just have to rearrange your appointment for your mother at the eye clinic, just get here now understand.”

I drop the line before Janet can come up with any other excuse, she will be here.  The beggar girl looks troubled at the contradiction around her my expensive apartment looking such a tip.

“Look, make yourself useful pour me a drink you will find wine in the refrigerator, glasses on the bar.”

I cringe the girl will find the kitchen in a worse state than the lounge, anyway it is what it is the whole place is a mess I must get another cleaner the girl probably thinks I am a right slob?

 The girl appears with my glass of wine, a healthy measure I am glad to see and I sigh taking my first sip.

“Mmm, that’s nice, what a mess, those kerbs are too high, and which moron left that can there, I may sue.”

The girl just stares at me making me feel a little uncomfortable anyway where are my manners?
“Have a drink yourself if you want.”

The girl sits opposite to me, having charged her glass, with her wine in hand. I make conversation, awkward at first but she seems to relax and I find she had been working for an Egyptian diplomat and his family, cooking, cleaning, shopping getting the children to school, used like a slave apparently. The wife was a tyrant and insanely jealous and without just cause or warning she had been fired three weeks ago and thrown out onto the streets. I am intrigued to hear that the couple had brought her to England to be their maid through their diplomatic connections and she had not arrived in the country legally and without documents.

Mmm, interesting my mind is already in gear, reflecting on the corporate responsibility meeting and that rag bag of an HR woman. Cleaning, cooking, shopping, this girl is obviously desperate she will probably work for nothing to be given sanctuary. I must know more about this girl.

By the time Janet arrives I establish that the girls name is Robbie and she was born in Nigeria, her mother Nigerian, a nurse working for a missionary outpost her father an evangelist from America. Her mother had died of an infection when Robbie was finishing college and her father fell afoul of religious intolerance and was imprisoned where he died in captivity. Quite a sad tale that had me listening intently. Following her father’s arrest although sitting her final exams she had been forced out of college and into domestic service. When the diplomat and his family moved to England from Nigeria she was brought with them. The girls English is good and seems well educated not really a beggar at all. Impulsive perhaps but I am desperate for a cleaner and this girl could offer so much more, there was an arrangement that could be to both our advantage?

“Look Robbie, from what you have told me and you can see the state of the place, you have helped me and with your experience if you want there is a job for you here, to be my housekeeper how does that sound, get you of the streets?”

A smile that I take to be sincere seals an accord and the girl agrees.

 Janet arrives and she is surprised to see me lay out on the sofa a towel wrapped around my ankle and a rather scruffy looking young African girl sat with wine in hand chatting with her boss.

 “You took your time, I need a doctor, the cab driver made me slip and I have done something to my ankle, this is Robbie by the way, she is to be my maid, well housekeeper, I will explain later. Now get me a doctor Janet.”

I watch Janet’s eyes roll obviously thinking not another cleaner and how long this one would last before she left, not without due cause the agency that supplied the other cleaners have refused to even speak with me.

The doctor’s visit confirms a bad sprain of my ankle and I will be laid up for a couple of weeks. 
In privacy with Robbie already making a start on cleaning up the kitchen I explain to Janet how having the girl, who had been begging on the streets, to be my housekeeper, would fit in nicely with that Muppet in Human Resources initiative. I can see in Janet’s eyes she is surprised at my compassion and what seems an act of kindness, but I soon dispel that when she learns that the poor girl is going to work for nothing in return for being given food and lodgings.

The two weeks of having been laid up passes quickly, my ankle fully recovered and Robbie having settled into her self-contained quarters. She is like a breath of fresh air for the apartments. Everything seeming to now have a place and everything is in its place.  I can tell that Robbie is no stranger to pandering to the whims of a demanding mistress, no doubt having worked for that cow of a diplomat’s wife, so keeping on the right side of me is no problem for her.

Robbie keeps herself to herself which suits me fine. Robbie is a close dress size to me, a little more athletic in build but close enough and she is grateful for the cast off’s I have given her. Dressed in her neat overalls, which I also organised for her, Robbie goes happily about her work. Shopping, laundry, cleaning, cooking and serving meals nothing she had not been accustomed to previously.

The first month over I am delighted to have my own domestic and in equal measure I am sure Robbie is happy to have a sense of security within my apartments at Rose Gardens, me the Mistress and Robbie the housekeeper and maid a relationship that both of us have become relaxed and comfortable with. The bonus being that dreadful HR woman, I forget her name, is over the moon, a little too pleased if you ask me about taking on the girl from the streets?


I look back now after all the changes and wonder what Miss Carrington’s thoughts were at our first meeting when I thought I had hit the jackpot snagging an experienced maid to serve my every need. Her prospective, obvious now of course, was quite different to mine that’s for sure? Naive, stupid, hindsight is a great thing but I had no problem to agreeing to everything at the time and then over time and now it doesn’t really matter does it?

Raining again three days I have been sat outside these apartments and still the bitch doesn’t even acknowledge me, not a penny has she given. There she goes getting into her cab wearing her designer clothes her hair and makeup perfect looking like a model. It can’t be more than two hundred yards to her office block, I can see her across the park when she arrives at her office the lazy stuck up cow.
A week at most Jenny said, I am not sure about all this, I am wet and freezing and if things don’t change soon I am off I have had enough. Pulling my wet blanket over me I nestle up against the wall and smile when a passer-by drops some coin in my pot. Almost five now and I chuckle at my pot on the pavement, not a bad take for the day and the coffee and sandwich from the tall guy again was very welcome.

Looking across the park I see the girl getting into a cab, good she is taking a cab again perhaps tonight, we will see? I watch the cab draw up in front of the buildings, she looks annoyed. Bingo, the silly bitch steps on the can I have put in the road by the kerb and I suppress my giggles watching her sprawl over the pavement the contents of her purse scattering across the footpath. I wait a few moments savouring the scene then stand starting to collect her stuff. No surprise she calls me a thief, threatening me with the police. All her things collected and put back into her purse she glares up at me questioningly, that must be a surprise for her.

“I am not a thief let me help you.”

Getting her too her feet I hobble her into the entrance to the apartments a large mirror reflecting her image she looks an absolute mess, stockings snagged, a rip on the sleeve of her jacket, a broken heel on her shoe and splattered in muck from the footpath. She doesn’t seem too concerned and she is obviously in pain getting to the elevator.

“Which floor are you on?”

I can see her glancing around hoping for someone else other than this street urchin to help her but the lobby is empty and she has no choice.

Like I don’t already know which floor, my fingers already hovering over the button and she confirms the Penthouse suites before pressing in the elevator code 83247, mmm, I must remember that.
The elevator doors open directly into the penthouse apartment’s very swish, should I expect anything less? I help her to hobble and limp to the sofa in the lounge and still not a word of thanks, this girl is beyond believe, surely, she is going to say something?

She is obviously in pain and I hope that ankle is not broken that could ruin things we need to get that checked out and I ask politely if she needs to contact someone?

Jenny was so right about this girl, spoiled or what and she just asks for her phone without a please or thank you in a sharp tone.

Having tapped in a number I listen to her berate her assistant Janet, Jenny had mentioned Janet and assured me she would be no trouble. Looking around the lounge the place is a tip just like Jenny had told me, this may be easier than I thought?

This girl is a user and I don’t have to wait long after she finishes her call to be taken for granted, perfect.  “Make yourself useful” the arrogance of this girl? I bring a glass of wine the bottle of course reflecting an expensive vintage. I find the kitchen to be in a worse state than the lounge? I hand the girl her wine who is already considering suing the council for the kerb being too high. I just stare at her it is a pity people cannot be sued for being obnoxious.

That’s better she is offering me a drink and it would be rude not to accept. Sat opposite the sofa that she is laying on I sit awkwardly trying to look as nervous and vulnerable as I can. If Jenny’s scheme is to work this evil cow needs to swallow my sob story hook line and sinker.

I say nothing if Jenny is right this girl will want to quiz me and like a lamb to the slaughter she does. I press all the right buttons for her, I am a trained maid, homeless and Jenny’s idea, I throw in my illegal immigration status along with hints of accepting being treated badly.

I pause and take a sip of my wine I can almost hear the cogs of her mind considering how she can exploit me and my situation. 

Asked about my roots I continue with my sob story and I see from her expression even this cold-hearted bitch is moved by my concocted story of helplessness.

I now have to see if she is truly hooked. Just like I thought this rich bitch is not going to let an opportunity like this pass her by, she is going for it I see it in her eyes.

I offer a smile when her suggestion floats from her pretty lips and I am hired. No money involved of course just food and lodgings she wants me on the cheap and that suits me just fine for now.
When her assistant arrives, which must be Janet, the girl she so rudely spoke to on her phone, seeing me sat drinking wine with her boss, her look is priceless and when she is told I am to be this girls maid her mouth nearly falls opens in disbelief.  A doctor arrives and I make myself scarce making a start on cleaning up the kitchen and my endearment to this girl begins.

I eavesdrop on the girl’s conversation with her assistant and chuckle. I am not surprised when I hear the girl gloating about having secured the services of a skilled maid for practically nothing.

The girl, who I now address Miss Carissa or Miss is laid up for two weeks on the doctor’s advice and I work like a slave tidying and cleaning the place top to bottom with little interference. I have been given some of her used clothes, which fit remarkably well and I have been allowed to purchase some pretty overalls, very maid like. Fawning over and waiting on Miss Carissa hand and foot with nothing too much trouble why would she suspect anything and she didn’t.  

 I keep myself to myself and go happily about my work shopping, laundry, cleaning, cooking and serving meals just like a good maid should.

Jenny had warned me to be ready and of course I was. Carissa’s assistant Janet, much to the annoyance of Carissa, had been seconded onto a special task organised by Jenny, head of HR at Carissa’s company.

Two evenings expletives filled the air of the apartment Carissa struggling with work on her computer. The third evening I let the bitch suffer for a while then having finished my work in the kitchen lingered in the lounge. The look of disdain on Carissa’s face when she turned to face me and the tone of her voice would ordinarily have sent an obedient maid scurrying to her room but I had an agenda.

“Yes, Robbie what is it?

“Miss, I hate to see you upset and the last few days you have been on edge I was just wondering if I can help at all?”

Carissa laughed in my face.

“What, this is high finance, complicated stuff, how could you possibly help?”

I approached the computer Carissa was sat at.

“Miss if you remember whilst I did not qualify I was sitting my final exams in accountancy before I was forced to leave college and into domestic service perhaps I can help?”

Carissa stood abruptly and pointed to the chair she had vacated with a smirk on her face.

Alright smarty pants, six companies balance sheets, rank them for potential foreclosure or investment I am taking a shower I have had enough of this.

Not a simple task but one that someone in Carissa’s position should be able to work through without an issue but Carissa relied on her assistant Janet to handle all her financial interrogations and calculations and that crutch had been taken from her.

Asset rich, cash poor, high productivity, low productivity increasing decreasing sales, increasing decreasing costs, existing loans and liabilities it was all there in the financials for the companies.

A simple spread sheet and ranking produced along with a short narrative on each of the six companies, the printer rattled out the reports and I sat back and smiled at the screen, pressed save and it was done. Carissa emerged from the bathroom in her fluffy robe a towel wrapped around her head she stood tall behind me then removed the printouts from the printer and slouched down on the sofa.  Carissa raised her gaze from the text and looked at me quizzically then smiled.

Carissa’s comments were not unexpected although she had struggled for three evenings with the task, which I accomplished while she took a shower, my “Rumpelstiltskin” moment for her could never receive the praise it deserved.

“Well, well Robbie very professionally done I must say, of course I had already come to similar conclusions I just hadn’t formalised my thoughts that’s all.”

I smiled we both knew different but it went unsaid

“Of course, Miss, but if you do need any help with stuff like that I don’t mind really.”

Carissa placed the printed documents into a folder and smiled up at me we both knew her pretence of intellectual superiority on her part since I arrived was now exposed but it was pretence I had no problem accepting it was early day yet.

“Why thank you Robbie, just simple stuff of course I need to handle the important matters.”

I smiled back hiding my contempt for the arrogant bitch.

“But of course, Miss just the simple stuff.”

I took my leave and returned to my room.


I watch Robbie head for her room and smirk she doesn’t know it but if she had not done that work for me I would have been in big trouble. Three days I have been chased for those figures and without Janet I was absolutely lost.  I pour myself a wine and opening the folder sit and familiarise myself with Robbie’s spread sheet and notes. It all looks fine and like I do with Janet’s work I just need to be convincing enough at the presentation that this is all my own work.

The presentation goes well a few telling questions that I manage to side step, asking for a little more time to ensure the answers are thought through. I smile entering the elevator that evening after work another little job for my maid after dinner; she did say she would help if asked.

 A glass of wine waiting for me I sit on the sofa whilst Robbie tells me what she is preparing for dinner.  I pat the file I have placed next to me on the sofa.

“Robbie the work you did last night, those companies I have a few questions and perhaps you wouldn’t mind drilling down into your figures and having a look for me?

“No big deal I would do it myself but well I sensed that you enjoyed working on them last night, so would you like to take a look I have the questions here in the file?”

Carissa arrives back at the apartments looking much more relaxed than the previous evenings and I smile offering her customary glass of wine telling her that I am preparing trout for her evening meal. My eyes fight not to gaze down on the file by her side wondering if the details I purposely left out of my report had been raised when she presented my work has her own.

I hide my smile when my thoughts are confirmed, the omissions are simple and could easily be addressed by cross referencing the main spread sheet and the appendix, and I can even guess what the questions will be without looking. With Carissa not being capable of answering the queries, I suspect that were raised, tells me a lot about the bitch she really is a simpleton when it comes to figure work. I consider letting Carissa stew but no, that time will come for now the key word is endearment.

“Well I will take a look Miss of course and you have been working hard all day, take your shower, relax and after I have served dinner I will take a look for you.”

Carissa slurps down her wine smiles and heads for the shower. I don’t return to the kitchen and taking the file spread out the papers on the workstation around the computer and when Carissa comes back into the lounge my head is buried in the documents and turn feigning a look of concern.  Carissa is not slow to ask what the problem is. I shrug my shoulders.

“A little more complicated than I thought but you will know that Miss, won’t you?”

I can have these questions sorted in minutes but why would I.

She really is stupid and blusters, a little panic in her eyes.

“Oh, erm yes, yes not straight forward at all but you have made a start I don’t want to interfere now.”
I turn to the kitchen a little smoke drifting up from the fish slowly turning to charcoal.

“Oh, Miss I must attend to your dinner it will be ruined.”

As I suspected I won’t be preparing any dinner until this report is sorted.

“No, no Robbie, erm, look I will sort dinner you carry on with what you are doing.”

I chuckle under my breath Carissa leaving me and walking into the kitchen.

I don’t need a eureka moment and quickly print out the answers to the questions adjusting the spread sheets to match.

Stepping from the computer I enter the kitchen grabbing an apron from the hook.

“Miss, Miss, what are doing come get this on you will splash on that lovely robe it will be ruined.  A full bibbed apron discretely trimmed with lace I work Carissa into the garment and above screwed knots tie a neat bow behind her with the tapes.”

“There Miss that’s better now I better get back to your work, nearly finished.”

I look at the burned fish in the pan and hide my amusement seeing an awkward Carissa wearing one of my aprons trying to look like she knows what she is doing.

“Oh, Miss you have made a mess of that can you not cook? I can see I am going to have to show you around that kitchen”

Back at the computer I continue to look busy until Carissa appears carrying a plate of limp salad with some poorly cut tuna and sits at the dining table. Not unexpected still wearing her apron. Even I would struggle to undo those knots behind my back.

I turn with a feigned look of concern.

“Miss you have served yourself and still wearing that apron.”

I make light of the situation, a throwaway line, planting seed that will hopefully grow in that arrogant self-centred brain of hers. 

“Still if I am doing your work I guess you can do mine Miss?”

I can sense Carissa is not amused by my reference and is obviously frustrated at her lack of culinary skills being laid bare but says nothing.

Having almost finished Carissa’s report I pretend not to see her struggling in the kitchen to remove her apron until she calls.

“Robbie in here quickly please get me out of this ridiculous apron”.

Untying the screwed knots, I tied is not difficult if you can see what you are doing and the apron more or less instantly falls open.

I offer another reference to her domestic inadequacies.

“Not very good with knots then Miss, but then you don’t need to be do you Miss?”

Carissa is not happy and grabs the tapes.

“Right I will show you who can tie an apron Robbie, so how does it tie, tell me don’t do it, no help?”
I stand back knowing soon she will not give a second thought to tying on her apron.

“Alright Miss, up and over with half a twist tie the bow with a flick of the wrist.”

I watch Carissa fumble and struggle repeating the rhyme three times but eventually she masters it. The look on her face one would think she had solved some critical puzzle not learned to tie apron tapes.

Just one more push for this evening I think.

“Miss well done, now you better give me that apron looks like the washing up needs doing and the kitchen is in quite a state after your failed attempts at cooking. While I do this, you can put the finishing touches to your report only a few simple calculations to do.”

Carissa’s eyes tighten slightly I have her in a corner; no way will she attempt anything on the reports and the response I wanted flows freely from her lips.

“No, I have the apron on Robbie you finish the report I made this mess I will clean it up.”

The report printed and back in the folder I listen to Carissa huffing and puffing in the kitchen and even I am surprised seeing her on her hands and knees wiping some sauce from the floor tiles. I intervene with a smile and cannot help but giggle.

Carissa looks up not amused at all.

“What, what’s wrong why are giggling.”

I kneel to the floor and take the cloth from Carissa’s hand.

“This is the cloth for the dishes Miss not the floor, the floor cleaning materials are found in the side cupboard at the end of the kitchen, left hand side, next to the Utility room.”

Perhaps Carissa is expecting me to finish things off but I pre-empt any suggestion of that

“Sorry Miss it is unfair of me to watch you cleaning the kitchen I will go and sit in the lounge until you have finished then you can review my report I have written for you.

No harm in reminding the silly cow why she is doing the cleaning whilst I relax on her sofa.

I am a little miffed to say the least when Robbie instead of fetching the floor cleaning materials just tells me where I can find them but who’s the mug here? I get paid thousands for what she has done with the reports and all I have to do is cook my own dinner, not very well I admit, resigning myself to a tuna salad, and cleaning up the kitchen. I chuckle to myself carrying the mop bucket to finish cleaning the floor thinking how I have learned how to tie on a maid’s apron.

The tiles gleaming and everything tided away in the kitchen I flop down on the sofa next to Robbie who hands me the folder containing my report for the morning meeting.

Robbie stands and smiles.

“Come on Miss let’s get that apron off and I will get you a glass of wine you look exhausted.”

The following day Carissa strutted like a peacock around the desk of her seated colleagues and managing director whilst she embellished her previous presentation with Robbie’s efforts. 

Unfortunately for Carissa she did too good a job which did not go unnoticed by Cecil Franks, regional coordinator for acquisitions and disposals.

Carissa’s managing director, heavily influenced by Jenny in human resources of course, had the final say and given the evidence of her work on the presentations Carissa was obviously the right person to take on the role. It was agreed Cecil would gather all the details from the regions for Carissa to assess and report like she had for the six companies she had already so professionally analysed.

Carissa wriggled and tried her hardest to dissuade the gathered group of her managing director, Cecil Franks and Jenny from HR that she did not want the role but her pleading went unheeded and it was agreed.

Over coffee, after Carissa’s appointment, Cecil and the MD waxed lyrical about the quality of Carissa’s presentation and Jenny made the point that it was all done without her assistant Janet.  Jenny suggested that Janet could remain on her secondment given Carissa obviously had no need of her. When Carissa was told she would be flying solo on this project her heart sank, no way could she handle this task on her own.

Files began to arrive each sorted by region and soon the far wall of Carissa’s office was stacked high with pending work what was she going to do?

Carissa had no choice she was going to have to take the files back to her apartments and persuade Robbie to work through them but there was so many?

Jenny smirked seeing Carissa heading through the lobby of the offices carrying a large box of files’ and approached her. Carissa had little time for the insipid head of Human Resources who was overtly gay, word had it she had bedded many of the junior staff even Janet although Carissa refused to believe it. Carissa could not understand what anyone saw in her male or female. Not pretty at all she was plump under her baggy bohemian rags she called clothes, wore little or no makeup, her hair tied back into a scruffy pony and always wearing thick rimmed glasses.

Jenny’s squeaky voice halted Carissa by the main door.

“Carissa you are keen taking work home very commendable.”

Carissa put the heavy box down on the table by the exit Jenny was the last person she wanted to see. Company policy restricted the number confidential files that could be taken off site.

Jenny peered into the box.

“That’s a lot Carissa; I suppose you want me to turn a blind eye to this do you.”

Carissa needed to get the files to Robbie and in her usual blustery arrogant manner spoke, perhaps without thinking through what she was saying.

“Jenny your concern for the security of these files is admirable but I can assure you nothing will happen to them on the short distance to my apartments. I have found too many distractions in the offices and I can work better at home with this project.”

Jenny smirked she knew exactly why the stuck up, I am better than you, Carissa Wiltshire needed to take her work back to her apartments.

Jenny stroked her fingers around the box of files

“Oh yes I see what you mean no distractions, leave it with me, perhaps there is a way around this, take your box and I will see you in the morning.”

Carissa couldn’t wait to get away from Jenny there was something of the night about that girl, creepy.  She had thought on numerous occasions, the way she looked at her, that she wanted to get into Carissa’s knickers.

Back at her apartments Carissa now had to find a way of getting Robbie to work on the files and dumped the heavy box by the doorway.


I hide my smirk watching Carissa stagger from the elevator and dump a heavy box of files by the doorway. I make light of it offering Carissa her customary glass of wine and she slumps down on the sofa. I know what she is going to ask but I decide to raise the stakes a little before she does.

“More homework hey Miss, I guess that’s why you get the big bucks though, rather you than me, I have enough to do being the maid here, each to her own, you doing the figure work me doing the housekeeping”

I make and serve dinner and having cleared away and tided the kitchen return to the lounge. Carissa hasn’t showered and after dinner returned to the sofa nursing her third glass of wine.

I have been thinking of how to broach the subject of Robbie doing more work for me on the way back from the offices. Robbie is her breezy self when I return to the apartments and dump the box of files. The usual glass of wine waiting for me I| smile and take my first sip. I am hardly across the threshold when Robbie, seeing the box, makes a little joke about me getting the big bucks and I get the impression convincing Robbie to work though the files may not be as straightforward as I thought.

After dinner Robbie finishes in the kitchen and comes back through into the lounge.

“Robbie, pour yourself a glass of wine and come and sit with me will you.”

I smile and accept the invitation and having poured myself a glass of wine sit on the armchair opposite Carissa.

“Robbie the work you did on those companies, it was very good, not exactly how I would have done it of course but good none the less. I was thinking at the office today, there are some more to do and it would helpful if you could do the same with these? What do you think you seemed to enjoy doing it a break from your maid’s, well housekeeper duties?”

I feign a look of concern and take a sip of my wine.

“Miss? Well thank you I am glad that the work I did for you was acceptable but I don’t think I can what with the work I already do keeping the apartments clean and looking after your needs with meals and laundry and all the rest. I did that work in the evening it was very late when I got to bed and then I had to catch up with my other work, thank you for offering but I think it best that you do what you do Miss and I will stick with my maid’s work.”

Robbie is right of course if I want her to do the reports she couldn’t just do them in the evening there are hundreds to do and more coming in each day, shit I never considered that?

I cannot appear too desperate although I am and smile at Robbie.

“Well I was going to pay you something make it worth your while.”

The bitch is trying to hide how desperate she is but she is not fooling me but I play along.

“Miss that is kind of you but like I have explained if I am doing the reports and not paying attention to my maid’s duties the general housekeeping will not get done? You would have to employ another maid I could supervise her of course but where would we find one?”

I finish my wine and stand my haughty Mistress needs to stew a while.

“Miss thank you for the wine and the offer of doing your work but I am rather tired and would like to go to my room now if that is alright?”

Breakfast served it was a thoughtful Carissa at the table who stared over towards the untouched box of files by the doorway. What was she going to do? She couldn’t just take them back? Carissa looked at Robbie in her neat maid’s tunic a white apron around her waist clearing the table and in a forlorn tone made one last attempt to convince her to work on the files.

“Well Robbie I am off to the office now, if you do get chance, the box of files by the doorway 

contains some company files for review, you might find time?”

Carissa was dreading the meeting Jenny had arranged for her that morning and having made herself a coffee, no Janet to pander to her needs, she sat at her desk nursing her cup staring at the stack of boxes against her office wall.  She had to find a maid to cover for Robbie but where was she going to find one? The agency she had used before refused to talk to her; she had exhausted every avenue before Robbie arrived? What a mess.

Carissa walked to the boxes and removed a few of the files and spread one out on her desk and peered down at the details. Outwardly one would assume that she was grappling with the figures within but in truth to Carissa they were just meaningless symbols on a sheet.

Carissa’s office door opened and in strode Jenny in her frumpy clothes.

“Oh, hard at work already Carissa sorry to disturb you just came by about our discussion last night.  This will have to be strictly between you and me but I want to help and what you said about distractions in the offices, how you can concentrate better at home on this project. I can sign you off on sick leave and ship the files over to your apartments a few boxes at a time, the finished files can be collected when new boxes are delivered that way you can work undisturbed, what do you think?

Carissa looked up at Jenny, why was she being so helpful? It is a good job she doesn’t know why I need to work at home? Although unknown to Carissa she did.

“But my other work?

Jenny maintained a look of genuine concern.

“Don’t worry about that I am bringing Janet back she is going to deputise for you. So off you go Carissa and I will keep in touch, remember this is our little secret, although probably worth getting a doctor’s note for the files, just say stress, they hand doctors notes out for that like confetti.”

 Carissa shrugged her shoulders Janet deputising for her? She had been railroaded into the arrangement but she was cornered by that witch Jenny, she had to agree now.

Jenny smiled

“So, it’s agreed then?”

 “Well yes I suppose, erm, I will tidy things away in my office and make a start tomorrow.”

Jenny held out her hand.

“No need for that you can go now better give me your keys Janet will need them, won’t she?”

Carissa did not want to go back to her apartments and have to explain to Robbie but now she really did need Robbie to work on the files she was desperate.  At the doctor’s surgery Jenny was right she had no problem in getting a doctor’s note for stress in fact the doctor did show some concern at her blood pressure and general demeanour and no wonder if a person could be stressed it was Carissa what was she going to do?

Mid-afternoon Carissa arrived back at her apartments a good few hours early and let out a sigh of relieve stepping from the elevator, Robbie was at the computer a half box of files at her feet and a neat stack of completed files on the workstation.

Carissa was overwhelmed and walking to Robbie gave her a hug.

“Oh, Robbie thank you, you have decided to do the work for me, you don’t realise what this means to me.”

Robbie stood from her seat and feigned a mood of panic.

“Oh, Miss is it that time already I haven’t hardly done anything, the beds are not made, no fresh towels, the cleaning, your dinner O miss, I am so sorry I just wanted to do some of these for you I could see you were upset this morning.”

Robbie was already heading to the kitchen and Carissa called after her.

“No, no Robbie come back please sit down carry on working through the files, I am home early, erm we can sort the other stuff latter.”

Robbie hid her amusement seeing the look of horror on Carissa’s face when she turned.

“But Miss you are back now you can carry on with the files, can’t you?”

Carissa was being put on the spot and came up with what she thought was a credible reason for Robbie to continue.

“No erm, Robbie, look you have started these best that you continue?”

Robbie showed no emotion which could not be said for Carissa.

“But what about tidying the place my jobs?”

Carissa tried to stop herself but the words already formulated in her panicking brain flowed from her lips without hesitation and what was said was said.

Robbie stood back hands on her hips and giggled.

“What? You will do my work whilst I do yours? You can’t be serious Miss?”

Carissa wanted to back track but how could she if she wanted the reports doing? What had she said?
Words again poured forth without thought, she was desperate and with Janet now doing her other work at the bank Carissa wouldn’t be able to call on her do it for her???

“Yes, yes I don’t mind you are good at that work and I admit much faster and indeed better than me so why not until the reports are finished, it will be a rest for you, I will pay you like I said this morning.”

The intercom by the elevator buzzed halting their conversation and a gruff voice spoke

“I have some boxes of files for Miss Carissa Wiltshire?”

Robbie walked past Carissa and pressed the intercom and the security code.

“Ok, come up; press the penthouse button top right.”

The elevator doors opened and a guy in a grey smock pushed out a trolley loaded with box files offering Robbie a clip board to sign. A squiggled signature and the guy took back the clip board.
“Thank you, Miss.,”

The guy left and Robbie turned to Carissa.

“You want me to do all these as well?”

Carissa had gathered her thoughts a little and knew there were more files to come, she had a doctor’s note for two weeks so she could do the housework, she would have to?

“Look I will get some help for the cleaning and everything, it may make take a few days but I will cover until then.”

Robbie inspected the packed boxes and sighed moving the agenda forward.

“Phew this is going to be a big job Miss, if you can’t hire anyone, and I know you struggled before I arrived, you are going to be wearing my maid’s tunic and apron for more than a few days I think. Of course, I won’t mind wearing one of your nice skirts and blouses whilst I sit at the computer”

Perhaps Carissa had not contemplated actually wearing Robbie’s maids uniform and certainly not Robbie wearing one of her skirts and blouses but if she was going to be doing Robbie’s work she would have to, wouldn’t she?

Robbie went into the kitchen and brought out a bottle of chilled wine, picked two glasses from the bar and poured.

Offering a glass to Carissa Robbie smiled and pointed to the sofa.

“I think before we start we need to discuss this Miss, think all this through.”

Carissa sat moving some papers she had left the previous night and gulped her first drink.

Robbie took a sip from her glass before placing it down on the low table between them and looked at her fidgeting Mistress.

“You look quite stressed Miss you needn’t be, a maid’s work is not stressful, that is what you are concerned about isn’t it, being your maid’s maid?

That was the last thing that Carissa had on her mind her only thoughts being just getting all those files processed and back to the offices. However, the term maid’s maid made her quiver, was that the price she was going to have to pay? Robbie had fed Carissa a line, a lifeline of sorts that she could use to mask her true concerns those of her inadequacies to carry out her job. Of course, it wasn’t a life line at all Robbie was just setting her agenda for Miss Carissa, Wiltshire’s demise.

Carissa took another gulp of her wine and tried to make light of it.

“Yes, yes that’s right Robbie my maid’s maid hey who would have thought it?”

Robbie took another sip of her wine knowing full well of the arrangement Jenny had made for her Mistress.

“But how will you get the time to look after the apartments if you are at work all day?”

The bottle offered to refill Carissa’s glass Robbie slowly poured.

Carissa shuffled in her seat then took a sip from her charged glass. She wasn’t going to share the information that was a secret between that rag bag of an HR women and herself, that she was booked out with stress, little knowing that Robbie was fully aware of their ruse.

“Thank you, Robbie, that won’t be a problem I am a vice president at the bank if I want time off I will just take it, anyway if anyone should inquire I will be working on those files, won’t I?”

Robbie smiled.

“Looks like you have that side of things in hand Miss and we have the agreed maid’s work rota pinned up in the kitchen that you gave me when I was your maid.”

The past tense referral to Robbie being Carissa’s maid was not accidental; a slip of the tongue Robbie was corralling her prey.

Carissa smirked

“Hey Robbie was my maid? Let’s not get carried away you still are?”

Robbie kept a straight and serious face.

“Well yes of course but whilst we do this, if I am going to be able to concentrate and get through all this work, the protocols will have to change won’t they? On a temporary basis of course and you, yourself, once you get into my maid’s uniform you will have enough to occupy you without pretending to still be the Mistress, here won’t you?”
Carissa sat back and sipped on her wine, was she really agreeing to all this? What Robbie was saying made sense but was this taking it all a bit too far? Pretending to be the mistress while I am the mistress?

Robbie sensing some back tracking continued.

“Look I am doing this for you, if you are not happy just say so Miss, I will leave the files for you and carry on being your maid, but if we are to do this then we have to be realistic you are to be the maid and how can the maid possibly be the mistress?”

The last thing Carissa wanted now, with Robbie having already agreed to do the work, was for Robbie to change her mind. It would only be for a few days a week at most.

Carissa put down her glass and again made light of it all.

“You are right Robbie the main thing is to work through the files, should I call you Miss then if I am the maid?”

Robbie never changed her expression.

“But of course, you will won’t you.”

Robbie’s steely stare made Carissa gulp what was she getting herself into?


That evening with things agreed Robbie returned to work on the files and Carissa set about preparing dinner. She didn’t change into her uniform or wear an apron and made dinner only for herself.  A cheese and Tuna salad Carissa sat down to eat.

Robbie stood form the computer and walked to were Carissa was eating.

“Nice is it the food, your meal?”

Carissa thought nothing of it why should she?

“Yes, its fine.”

Robbie stared at Carissa making her feel somewhat uncomfortable.

“After all we have agreed, less than three hours, you are still dressed like my mistress, you have not asked what I want for dinner, let alone prepared anything? This is not going to work is it? I think you had better finish your meal then get back on your computer to work on those files; I am going to my room.”

Carissa nearly choked on her Tuna and before she could speak Robbie was gone.

Carissa cursed herself, shit, this was not going to be easy she had to get Robbie back on side she had to.

Carissa left her unfinished dinner and stared at the uniform Robbie had laid out for her.

Stepping out of her heels and stripping off her Dior suit and underwear she fed her legs into the cotton briefs, exchanged her silk bra for the plain bra laid on top of the short white socks and flat pumps. The nylon slip felt tacky compared with her usual silk but raised the straps over her shoulders and shock it out about her knees. The nylon overall with its lace trim buttoned Carissa stooped and pulled on the socks and pumps before wrapping her apron around her waist. Catching her image in the mirror she grimaced and turned stroking her hands over her pronounced ass held in the tight the nylon overall. Shit I look like, Carissa could not prevent her giggle. I look like a bloody maid. Carissa also felt like one. Still it would be worth it if those files get sorted.

Carissa walked to the door of Robbie’s room and knocked gently and took a deep breath.

“Miss, miss, may I come in?”

Robbie was waiting of course but even she did not expect the image that confronted her when Carissa entered and it took all her resolve not to giggle.

“Yes, come in what is it.”

Carissa entered her demeanour meek her words contrite.

“I am sorry Robbie, I mean Miss, I just forgot, that’s all, I promise I will get better at this.

“What would you like for dinner Miss?”

Robbie was going to milk this; more concessions would surely follow and of course they did.

“Look you can get that lot off I am not doing it, you are going to be rubbish and I will end up doing your work on the computer and the work of my maid.”

Carissa spoke with more than a hint of desperation in her voice.

“Please Robbie, I mean Miss, I will be a good maid, I promise please say we can continue.”

Robbie glared at Carissa,

“Yes, that’s easy for you to say I am still cooked up in here when you have finished you can go back to the luxury of your rooms. It’s no good playing at being my maid I think if I am to agree to continue you should give up your rooms to me. Anyway, I am not doing it.”

Carissa was desperate and never gave it a thought before spluttering out her agreement to Robbie’s demand.

“Look alright, we can swop, I don’t mind that’s fine please Miss?”

Robbie smirked Carissa really was desperate and pushed again, why not.

“And if I ask you to curtsy when you address me, I see no other way to remind yourself that you are my maid, will you do that?”

Carissa frowned what could she say no and risk Robbie not doing the files?

Carissa’s head lowered and whispered her response what was she doing?

“Yes, yes alright I will.”

Robbie stood from the bed now a good two inches taller than Carissa stood in her flats.

“What I did not hear you.”

“Yes, I will Miss curtsy for you.”

Robbie stood back.

“And why will you be doing that?”

Carissa was feeling a mixture of emotions none positive, stupidity, embarrassment, inadequacy, servility, weakness close to tears in fact.

“To remind myself that I am your maid Miss.”

Robbie opened the door.

“That’s right well go on then.”

Carissa bobbed curtsy.

“Thank you, Miss.,”

Robbie rolled her tongue across her lips.

“I will be out directly and Tuna salad for me will be fine, take yours through into the kitchen I don’t remember the previous maid eating at her Mistresses table.”

Another nervous curtsy for her Mistress and Carissa headed to the kitchen.

Carissa did her best preparing a neat plate and offered it to a seated Robbie and took her own meal back into the kitchen and sat at the breakfast bar that she had never used until that day.

Washing the pots Carissa glanced through into the lounge happy to see Robbie clicking away on the computer. It would all be worth it wouldn’t it?

Three days and Carissa were working her way through the rota she had prepared for her maid never in her wildest dreams could she have thought at the time that one day she would be the maid carrying out the various tasks!

Robbie’s room, now her own, was cramped with little storage space but enough for what she needed to hang her uniforms. Robbie on the other hand was enjoying the luxury of Carissa’s rooms and of course her wardrobe. Carissa had to admit that Robbie looked very elegant wearing Carissa’s Dior suits, blouses and heels, more like an ebony Goddess than a maid.  Files were completed and soon a stack of boxes filled with neatly prepared files lined the wall by the elevator.

Thursday Morning and Carissa having prepared breakfast for her Mistress recognised the gruff voice calling up from reception. And wiping her hands on her apron pressed the intercom and tapped in the security code.

“Come up”

The doors opened and the guy in the grey smock pushed in another trolley load of files, unloaded the new set of files and then loaded the files that Robbie had completed.

Offered a clip board Carissa signed and the guy pushed his trolley back into the elevator and was gone.

Monday the following week Carissa was aware that the pace of working through the files had slowed and was foolish enough to ask Robbie why.

Robbie had waited this opportunity to denigrate her Mistress to weaken her fragile confidence and shrink her ego further. At every opportunity Robbie had ridiculed Carissa for her lack of domestic skills to the point of instilling a level of paranoia into poor Carissa who was now unsure of everything she did from the rota constantly seeking reassurance from her Mistress that she was doing things right. Robbie jumped for her seat pointing to the yet another new delivery of files.

“What, what, look I am not a machine, I have been at this night and day for a week now and still more come but what is the point of telling you that you’re just a maid, I cannot expect you to understand what is required in preparing these financial profiles. Get back in the kitchen and when that is cleaned get that pile of laundry sorted.”

Carissa meekly curtsied and melted away to the kitchen, she had never been shouted at, what was happening to her, why was she always on edge, nervous, unsure? Robbie had no right to speak to her like that but Carissa was feeling more like a maid with every day that passed. Every time she had tried to stand up to Robbie she was reminded of their agreement always with the veiled threat of leaving the files unfinished. If Carissa was capitulating into the role of maid Robbie in equal measure was becoming bolder and more demanding growing into her position of Mistress.

Carissa watched through the kitchen door at Robbie busy at work at the computer whilst she was emptying the washing machine and folding the clothes, her clothes, well clothes mainly worn by Robbie now, she looked so professional, so confident tapping away at the computer turning the pages of the files. Carissa had been Robbie’s maid for two weeks now and still more files arrived. After serving lunch to her Mistress Carissa was told to scrub the floors and beat the rugs, Robbie was going out again and Carissa dare not ask where such was her increasing fear of chastisement and ridicule. 

Down on her hands and reddening knees Carissa scrubbed at the tiles this couldn’t go on she had to find a way out of this downward spiral of denigration and subjugation at the hands of her maid. She was the vice president of Carrington’s bank for goodness sake yet here she was on her hands and knees dressed in her maid’s uniform scrubbing the floors of her own apartment.

Carissa was weary from her toil when the ping of the elevator announced the return of Robbie who strode past her sweating scrubbing maid. Carissa watched Robbie’s highly polished heels click bye gazing up at her shapely legs sheathed in black stockings and the swish of her silk slip beneath her tailored skirt. The scent of Robbie’s expensive perfume drifted down about Carissa creating a fleeting oasis of feminine odour briefly arousing her senses. 

Robbie stopped and turned looking down at the admiring looks of her maid.

“Do you like what you see Carissa.”

Robbie purposely squatted down on her haunches facing Carissa, Robbie’s skirt riding high on her thighs and Carissa’s eyes could not help be drawn to where the crotch of Robbie’s Panties would be. No panties and when Robbie smoothed down her skirt and squeezed her thighs the pungent odour of Robbie’s sex wafted out like a possessive claw Carissa left staring mesmerised at the source of the intoxicating scent.

I smile down at my scrubbing maid when I arrive back from the salon aware her gaze had tracked my shapely legs when I strode past her. I turn and see a look of admiration in her tired eyes, the African girl she thought a beggar brought from the streets wearing her fine clothes in stark contrast to her own adornment of a cheap nylon maid’s tunic. Perhaps it is time to move on the subjugation of my rich bitch. I lower myself down to my haunches in front of Carissa and watch her eyes glance then hold their gaze up my skirt. I widen then close my thighs letting my scent flow from my exposed pussy and smile watching her nostrils flare and eyes widen. 

 What’s happening to me, why am I so taken to see Robbie strutting past me wearing my clothing, my shoes my jewellery. Her hair is perfect she has been to the salon, my salon whilst I have been left here to scrub the floors. She looks perfect, but why am I idolising her why? When Robbie turns quickly our eyes meet, I cannot hide my expression, not envy, not jealousy it’s something else she looks gorgeous clean neat all the things I am not and I feel awkward, she makes me feel this way more and more. She knows I have watched her and I watch a possessive smile blossom across her face. 

Lowering slowly down to her haunches in front of me I cannot help but gaze up her skirts drawn high and tight on her firm thighs, she is not wearing panties and her exposed sex glistens and pulses with her movement then its intoxicating scent fills my senses my nostrils flare and my eyes hold their stare. No, no, no I mustn’t I can’t but I cannot stop myself! Beckoned forward by Robbie’s smiling eyes I crawl towards her and her glistening jewel. Robbie stands, I rise to kneel, my head is under her draped skirts and between her stocking thighs, then, then without shame or conscience I taste of her black weeping pussy parting her lips to expose the hot pink flesh beyond and lick and lap at her sweet flowing nectar. The feelings of wanting and need seep through every sinew of my being whilst I worship between her straddled thighs. My mind spinning without conscious thought I feast unbridled on the forbidden fruit.

I won’t deny there was something quite erotic of having this rich white girl Carissa licking so willingly at my intimacy.  Carissa’s enthusiasm finally waning I step back letting my skirts fall and holding her chin in my hand and look into her wanton eyes my fresh offering dribbling from her mouth.

“Oh, Carissa it seems you will be wearing that maids uniform for longer than you thought doesn’t it?”
Her weak whispered response when I remove my hand from supporting her chin and her head lowered submissively may just as well have been screamed in its loudest pitch for its significance.

“Yes Mistress.”


Carissa obtained another note from the doctors and I continued working through the files. Following her willing debasement beneath my skirts Carissa seemed to thrive on my more authoritarian regime within her household using the term Mistress in place of Miss which amused me greatly and it wasn’t discouraged and Carissa accepted the new uniforms I obtained for her with genuine appreciation. White lace trimmed plain black woollen dresses more comfortable than the cheap nylon smocks I am sure.

The trip to the doctors, with Carissa wearing the hand me downs she had given me to wear previously along with her flat pumps, bereft of makeup and her hair now long overdue a visit to a salon, the doctor had no reservations in extending her absence from work. Given I had accompanied Carissa on her visit dressed to the nines of course, the doctor confided in me as if her carer expressing some concern at her withdrawn nature, knowing her previously to be one of her more confident if not arrogant patient’s. I assured the doctor she was in good hands and accepted the prescription for some drugs to keep her calm.

The work on the files was almost complete with just the last batch delivered to be worked through but with Carissa’s regular visits to my virginal temple and the doping of the drugs, new supplies given freely on a repeat prescription, my compliant maid seemed unaware of or even cared.

I was intrigued finding a leather satchel pushed right at the back of one of the drawers in what were Carissa’s rooms and puzzled over the contents. Jenny had asked me to look out for some paperwork and this is probably it? Roberta Carrington? So, who was this? A will, Official letters of introduction to Carrington’s bank, a birth certificate, significant in that on the 28th anniversary of the birth caveats contained in the letters and the will could be executed bringing significant financial gain, bank details, but no photographs no passport no photo ID how odd? Stuffing the satchel back in the drawer I took my shower Carissa busy in the kitchen preparing my dinner. Dressed in my silky robe I wander to the dining area my thoughts still very much on the contents of the satchel. Why would Carissa have such a thing?

Laying in the bunk of my maid’s quarters following my awakening at the hands of Robbie, my maid, I hug my pillows like I will never let go squirming for pleasure. It was real, I had read of such things in erotic fiction, rich white women giving themselves to a black Mistress and previously thought of the ridiculous impossibility of it all but her I am. Another push of my hips naked beneath the rough cotton sheets my legs spread wide around my dampened pillow. Those feeling I had experienced, wanton abandonment, the weakness of unconditional sexual capitulation, the taste and scent of her sex. Moaning softly, twisting, pushing and squirming I strive to relive those feelings. Feelings that I crave will lead to my willing enslavement by my Ebony Mistress, Mistress Robbie.

Dressed in one of my short old thin cotton well-worn floral-patterned dresses, one which I had previously given to Robbie, wearing my flat pumps no makeup and my hair scrunched into a tight pony Robbie takes me to the doctors to renew my doctors note for continued absence from my work. Perhaps not realising how washed out I look the doctor shows some concern and I sit passively staring at the immaculately presented Robbie whilst they discuss me. Pills, I have never taken pills but they are prescribed and taken in liberal dose to keep me calm which they do in good measure.
New maid’s dresses for me to wear my Mistress is increasingly stricter with me but my reward for unquestioning compliance to her wishes is to kneel at her feet and then be invited to nestle beneath her silky robe and taste of her sweet flowing juices. My mind dulled by my medication day’s drift bye with me striving only to please, besotted by my Ebony goddess.

The files completed and returned to the bank Robbie chuckles watching her maid at work listening to Jenny laughing down the phone having been told what the once surly arrogant Miss Carissa Wiltshire Vice president of Carrington bank now Robbie’s obedient maid is doing at that moment.

“Yes, that’s right in her uniform down on her hands and knees scrubbing the tiles by the penthouse elevator.”


“Does she know you have completed the work on the files?”

“I doubt it and if she does she won’t know the significance of that anyway those pills have her in a trance most of the time.”

More laughter.

“Ok well I will over there around eight for dinner I can’t wait to see what you have done to the bitch.”

“Are you bringing Janet, does she know?”

“Of course, I am bringing her, we are almost an item didn’t I tell you, and no I haven’t told her a surprise for her.”

Despite her dulled senses Carissa’s culinary skills have improved and with lamb in the slow cooker and vegetables prepared for cooking Carissa prepares the table for her Mistress and guests. 

Robbie wearing one of Carissa’s designer gowns split to the thigh and bedecked in Carissa’s expensive jewellery exudes everything maid Carissa could want from her Mistress. Regal, poised a lady.

Carissa herself changed into a clean maid’s dress and apron his given her medication and curtsies thanking her Mistress.

The elevator pings and out strides Jenny arm in arm with Janet gone her frumpy clothes that she wore at the bank and Janet wearing gowns no less stunning that that worn by Robbie.

Carissa curtsies offering flutes of champagne to the arriving guests a confused look on her face she knows the guests but where from who are they?

Carissa forces a smile.

“Mistress Robbie is in the lounge follow me please ladies.”

Janet titters and Jenny taps her bottom.

Robbie embraces her guests kissing their cheeks and bids them to sit. Carissa stands a discrete distance from the chattering group tray in hand awaiting instruction. Janet is told of Carissa’s demise much to her amusement especially her acquired taste for Robbie’s snatch.

Janet cannot resist, Carissa had made her life a misery whilst she was her assistant before Jenny organised her promotion taking over Carissa’s role at the bank. No longer a wallflower she snaps her fingers.

“Girl bring me more champagne.”

Carissa anxious to please steps forward with her tray only for a stray heel left accidentally on purpose in her path by Janet trips her and the flutes spill from her tray.

“You clumsy girl, clean that up”

Carissa looks at her Mistress distraught that she had spilled the drinks.

Dashing to the kitchen Carissa returned with a cloth and on her hands and knees wiped up the champagne. Janet dangled one of her heels forward a small splatter toward its toe.

“Well girl wipe it I have a mind to have you clean it with your tongue”

Robbie joins in the ridicule of her maid.

“Yes, do that Carissa all our shoes lick them clean.”

Carissa unquestioningly obeys lowering her head lapping at the shiny patent leather of the girl’s heels.

The pre-meal entertainment over Carissa serves dinner and Janet is amazed the arrogant cow couldn’t boil an egg before Robbie took control of her.

The mains devoured Janet held Jenny’s hand at the table and smiled at Robbie.

“Well Robbie what’s the sweet course I have come prepared haven’t we Jenny?”

Robbie hitches up her gown and slides forward in her chair likewise Janet and Jenny.

“I don’t think you will be disappointed”

Robbie smiles pointing for Carissa to go beneath the table cloth and under the table she knew her duty.

Legs wide a nervous giggle from Janet who was first to feel Carissa’s practised tongue about and within her and in turn moans and smiles from each at the table.  A panting Carissa eventually emerged her face smeared, curtsied and left to tidy the kitchen and the group retired to the lounge.
Laughter and giggles filled the room recounting stories of the Miss Carissa Wiltshire Vice president of the bank so smart always dressed in designer suits looking down her nose at everyone. Robbie was congratulated on her subjugation of the arrogant bitch, Jenny taking a share of the credit for organising Carissa’s demise not in small part for using her HR influence to get Robbie a six-month secondment from head office.

Janet sipped on her drink

“So, Robbie will you go back to head office now or are you happy here in London.”

Robbie laughed out loud,

Leave? When I have my own personal slave girl? I don’t think so Janet and I have found the documents you said I might find Jenny, so I am going to follow that up.”

Carissa returned to her Mistress and guest asking if they required anything else.

Janet stood and faced Carissa.

“You don’t know who I am do you GIRL; I am Janet Longworth I used to be your assistant.”

Carissa’s dulled brain failed to compute perhaps a subconscious protection of her haggled mind.
Carissa curtsied and her reply brought a howl of laughter.

“No Miss, I did not know I had an assistant, were you a maid to my Mistress”

The HR report for the files showed that Miss Carissa Wiltshire, Vice president of Carrington bank, London office, had suffered a nervous breakdown and had taken up employment more in keeping with her current ability and skills. Jenny chuckled filing away the report completed with the doctor’s sickness notes relating to stress.

Robbie solved the puzzle of the contents in the satchel and on the 28th Anniversary of the birth certificate became Miss Roberta Carrington inheriting all the wealth and influence it brought. Obtaining a passport in that name she travelled the world with her dutiful maid who remained oblivious to her lost inheritance happy to serve her Ebony Goddess.


  1. Another awesome story Ms Jackie. But why do all the story lines require the principle person need to be drugged or coerced into serving as a maid. Couldn't a story be about a well to do young female, just out of uni. Traveling Europe and gets into trouble. Winds up working off her punishment with public humiliation, but eventually realizing that being a maid ain't such a bad thing?

  2. I'd like a couple who start as bf/gf but evolve into master & maid and like it that way...

  3. The changes all happen much too rapidly, too easily, for the story to be interesting. For such a change to have psychological plausibility, there has to be some sense of the protagonist's inner self, some kind of attraction-repulsion dynamic, but no-one in this tale seems to have an inner self. Perhaps the story should be read as simply a bdsm story with the "lady2maid" element as just a framing device, but even as bdsm story it doesn't have psychological credibility. For those looking for a simple "meet to beat" bdsm story, there's too much of a back-story, for everyone else, not enough.

  4. It took me a little bit to catch on with the changing perspectives, but I enjoyed the story. I could see the motivation for Clarissa to switch initially and maybe even to take it further with Robbie's goodness readily available, but it is a little more of a stretch for it to become so ingrained and I'd prefer it not be done under the influence.

    Probably the most clever and definitely one of my favorite stories of all time is Madame DeVille. I love how you locked in the reclusive Madame both in identity and then legally. Very clever and the baby steps down the slippery slope of lady2maiddom is so pure. I'd love to hear how her second book goes.

  5. Dear Anonymous4. Thank you for such an insightful breakdown of Jackie J's latest creation. It was well thought out and plainly written for everyone to understand. I would like to make a suggestion, if I may. Why not write your own story as you feel it should be written. I think we would all love to see and read the perfect Lady 2 maid story.

    1. That actually was a well thought out critique. They didn't think the story worked that well because of A, B, C and D and that's fair. It is exactly what you would want constructive criticism to be. You are free to disagree with them and I am sure we would welcome that discussion.

      Unless someone is complaining about a lack of stories being posted, there's no need for the snark. Anonymous4 made no claims as to their own ability, not that a lack of ability should preclude someone from critiquing another. You don't have to be a great filmmaker to say that a movie sucked and telling someone to "go make your own" doesn't address the criticisms they might have.

  6. This is another very good story, a good idea, well realised and well written.

  7. Thank you all for your comments as always all taken on board.

    Each of us in our imaginings no doubt have a perfect plot and for the pace and style of the journey from privilege to the life of a maid.

    How did it start, why did they continue, why could they not revert back to their former life, that exquisite moment they reach the point of no return and are confronted by the realisation of what is now their lowly reality.

    Getting that from the mind into words is seldom easy

    Some stories will be way off the mark, some may come near and maybe, perhaps just maybe, one story resonates with the particular reader coming near to their own imaginings?

    My particular favourite on Camille's fantastic site is the "INTERVEIW WITH MADAME NGUYEN" Which for me ticks every box and the epilogue puts me in the mind of all the protagonists in such an exquisite way.

    Jackie J

  8. I’ve been away so I hope I am still in time to comment. Thanks to JJ for another story – and at such length! Glad to see that again it has a single dramatic arc. The telling of the story from the alternative points of view worked very well: and the incident of the the tightly tied apron strings was a very nice piece of symbolism. However, I do have a couple of thoughts: I am glad to see that you have toned down the cruelty from some of your other stories, but I think you could go further still. In this case for example you have written Carissa to be a very dumb executive no doubt despite her excellent education. There is no need to have Carissa sedated by drugs and introduce an unlikely plot line to allow her to lose her inheritance. Echoing other comments, it would be perfectly plausible and more satisfying to allow Carissa to come to realise that being a maid was her role in life and for her to come to respect Robbie and her skills. This plot could work very well as you give the thoughts of both characters. On another matter, you often make the lady-now-maid to be seduced and overwhelmed by an erotic ploy of the woman-now-mistress. Leaving aside any comments on the artistic merits of this plot device, I believe an objective bystander would say that this turn of events is intrinsically unlikely and that this motif occurs too often in your stories. -- Miriam