Story: You've Got Mail.

by Jackie J

An email arrived in my inbox, normally, with an unsolicited email and definitely an email from an unknown source, this would go straight into my trash and then deleted without opening.

For some reason this was not the case with one particular email.  The mail from “Destiny”, subject line: “puzzle tree”, drew my attention and I double clicked. I chuckled seeing a picture of a dirty untidy room and thought how odd. Still curious I tapped the enter button and watched in amazement as the picture morphed and the resulting image was one of a spotlessly clean room, all extraneous items tidied away.

I hit the back tab a number of times to marvel at the morphing image fascinated and wondering how it was all done.

I showed it to my junior assistant Caroline who just smiled, probably a little surprised that a 36-year-old senior lawyer at the prestigious law firm Clegg, Burrell and James would have time for internet games.

So, taken by the image I saved the mail into a folder.

A series of mails followed during the week: a kitchen, a bathroom, and a bedroom all the same, an untidy scene morphed into one of pristine cleanliness.

After receiving the first emails, I was scanning my inbox most days looking for the latest creation from Destiny. Yet, beyond the first four emails it was nothing. That was until two weeks later, when another email from Destiny, subject “your turn now, kitchen” arrived to my mailbox.

I giggled and opened the mail.

The image was of a sink with a pile of dirty crockery, cutlery and pans.

I quickly found that by moving the cursor I could lift and move the items and place them into the bubble-topped water in the sink.  Fascinated by this I became engrossed until my assistant Caroline’s voice drew me back to the reality of my work and closing the file I joined her in the meeting room with clients.

My intern Caroline was pretty, bright and ambitious. Now twenty-six, she had scrapped together her bond monies for me and was progressing well. Always eager to take on more responsibility I had no problem in letting her lead in the meeting.  I was distracted thinking of the washing-up puzzles from Destiny when the client’s asked me if they should proceed to court. My mind was a blank; thankfully Caroline was on the ball and covered well for me. The clients left happy and we had another case on our books.

Caroline chuckled pulling together the case notes and with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“Perhaps you should get back to your computer now, Miss Barkley.”

I shouldn’t have but that’s just what I did.

Missing out on lunch, it was 2 pm before I managed to have all the washing up completed with the shiny pans, crockery and cutlery sitting on the drainer and sat back in my chair really pleased with myself. I was about to close my computer when a new mail from Destiny appeared in my in box with a loud “ping”.

I giggled reading the text that addressed me as girl.

Good girl, however the pans should have been washed last after the cutlery, no punishment this time. Now click the reset button and see if you can do the task correctly.

For some reason I felt really deflated thinking I had done well but obviously not.

Having become familiar with the mechanics of the game within an hour I had all my items washed and sparkling again, this time with the pans cleaned last.

A ping of my inbox quickly followed.

Are you stupid, girl? Those pots and pans will not dry themselves get them dried or you will be punished.

I was incensed by the email and battered out a reply on my keypad

 Stupid girl indeed, I am not stupid it did not say anything about drying.

Almost immediately a response pinged into my inbox.

Don’t question me, girl. Get those fucking pots and pans dried NOW!

I was so angry and scanned the screen, eventually seeing a tea towel icon in the corner.

I clicked it and with each click the items one by one lifted, the cloth enveloped them and they moved into a cupboard.

A new icon appeared at the bottom left hand corner of the screen: a cane and a number one.

An email followed.

That’s better girl but you have been punished. Never question me again.

It was gone three o’clock and Caroline brought in my afternoon coffee and the file from the morning meeting. I quickly shut down my screen and smiled.

“Thank you, Caroline.”

 I opened the file; my assistant had been very busy whilst I had been playing on the computer.

“Very good, Caroline. We will send the quotation letter you have prepared to the clients. Put the file in the case pending tray.”

I signed the letter and slid the file to Caroline, accidentally nudging the mouse of my computer bringing the screen alive and the graphic of a cupboard filled with gleaming crockery.

Caroline suppressed a giggle.

“A new screen saver, Miss Barkley?”

I quickly closed the screen.

”No, not really Caroline, just something I was looking at.”

Caroline left my office and I chastised myself for getting drawn into the computer game before getting back to the mundane reality of my work.

The next day another email from Destiny, this time the graphic of a bedroom with two unmade beds and clothing scattered around the room.  At first, I ignored it but during the day I returned to it. Over lunch I discovered the process to remove the sheets and replace with clean linen and learned how to collect the clothing and place it into a laundry basket along with general cleaning.

The day passed and I stayed late in my office deciding to finish the game. I was quite happy eventually seeing the bedroom all pristine when an email popped into my inbox.

If it ever takes you so long again to tidy one bedroom you will be punished. Now get the others done and be quick about it girl.

As with the previous task in the kitchen, I felt cheated by the comments thinking I had done well and tapped out a response.

“I didn’t know there was more than one room to clean.”

The response was immediate again.

How dare you question me? I warned you what would happen.

Another ping and the number by the cane in the corner of the screen moved from one to five.

I stared at the screen, thinking what the fuck have I got into?

But did I stop, just close the screen? No of course not, I was not going to be beaten.

As with the washing of the dishes, having figured out the mechanics of carrying out the tasks I moved swiftly from room to room leaving all four in perfect order, beds stripped and replaced with clean sheets, clothing tossed into the laundry basket, fresh towels in the en suite, toilet facilities cleaned. 

It was just before seven o’clock when I left my office but, having completed the tasks, I had a strange sense of achievement.

A routine developed over the ensuing weeks. An email would arrive on Friday mornings and working into the evening I would accomplish the tasks set, more often than not I would receive punishments.

Over time Thursday was added to Friday and subsequently Wednesday, my punishments now totalling 25. To continue with the game, I had to accept my maid name of Molly and sign a maid’s contract. The conditions were quite draconian but it was just a game so what did it matter.

Whilst the tasks on the game became more demanding and complex - cleaning multiple rooms, preparing meals - I was managing to keep on top of my work as a lawyer or so I thought. Caroline always willing to take on what was needed to keep my office functioning. Court appearances would often see Caroline taking lead with me now in the second chair.

My social life was also suffering a little, well a lot really, being tied up most evenings servicing the needs of my Mistress’s household. Yes, I had accepted Destiny as my Mistress – that was part of the contract and it just seemed natural now that, given Maid Molly could accomplish most of the domestic duties set, and I had to keep the residence of my Mistress clean and tidy.  The emails I received became very domineering always referring to the contract I had signed and I was responding more and more in a willing and submissive way.  The more I was chastised and punished, the more I sought to please my Mistress.

It had been two months since the first email I had received when I was summoned to a meeting of the senior partners, of which I was one. It was pointed out that my case load had dropped and questions were asked.  It was at this point that I realised that the game had become an integral part of my life; it was becoming an obsession and I knew it had to stop.  But did I? No of course not. It was addictive. I was hooked.

The more complicated cases coming into chambers, of which I had specialised in, became less frequent across my desk, the more focused partners handling these. I was left with the simple and less rewarding work.  Even most of this was efficiently covered by my assistant Caroline who was increasing in statue within the practise.

So, determined was I to keep my Mistress’s house in good order the poor quality of my work seemed secondary. Each day now had its own “maid’s rota”, even the weekends, and I slavishly followed the emails I received. I had to as I had signed the contract which my Mistress continued to remind me of.

It was a Wednesday evening returning to my apartment when the concierge for the building called me to his office. A parcel had arrived for me and I signed his docket and made my way to the elevator and my home.

Intrigued by the large parcel I removed the wrapping and opened the case inside.

Fuck me!

A maid’s uniform?  A complete maid’s uniform? Not fancy dress, this was the real thing? A traditional Victorian maid’s uniform - underwear, a dress, an apron, a cap, boots, the full regalia?

I ripped open the envelope that was enclosed.

In future girl you will wear this uniform when you complete your tasks.

A copy of your signed maid’s contract is enclosed along with a certificate of competence and your maid’s registration number. Keep these safe. Remember you are mine now, Molly.

Your Mistress

What the fuck?

Astonished by the contents I shut the case and just stared at it reading over and over the copy of the contract I had signed and wincing at some of the small print I had overlooked.

I left the case in the lounge and headed for the shower. Returning refreshed in my robe, I prepared my dinner in the kitchen and then sat on the sofa in the lounge nibbling and looking at the case in wonder.

I couldn’t resist, how could I?

Fastening the clasps of the garter belt to the thick black stocking tops I let the lace trimmed underskirts and my long black dress cascade down to my ankles and slipped my feet into the low heeled shiny black boots and laced them up.

Having tied the starched bib apron, I pinned the cute lace cap in my long blonde hair and swished my skirts in front of the mirror and mocked some curtsies.  I giggled fastening the name badge to my dress. Molly. Molly the maid.

The feeling was quite exquisite. Looking at myself in the mirror I felt something… That was quite erotic. I strode around my apartment curtsying to the wall, speaking aloud.

“Yes Mistress. Sorry Mistress.”

I was enthralled and thrilled and seeing again the contract I had signed, looking so official, printed out on expensive paper, complete with an embossed seal, and a certificate, again looking all official stamped and sealed making my life as a maid all seem so real. The rest of the evening, dressed in my maid’s attire, I did the housework, remaking my bed, vacuuming the carpets, washing all my dishes. I even washed and pressed my blouses.

Neatly folding away each item of the uniform back into the case I closed the lid before heading to my bedroom.

The next day entering work Caroline spotted the case and smiled.

“Are you going on vacation, Miss Barkley?”

I just smiled and walked on,

That evening, when the offices cleared, I stripped from my Dior suit, designer lingerie and heels and dressed in the maid’s uniform to sit at my computer to carry out my duties.  An email told me to switch on the web cam, before I began my tasks, this so my Mistress could inspect me, this message sent shivers through me. Was I really doing this?  I clicked the webcam icon and sat back.

My inbox pinged.

Good girl, your uniform fits well MOLLY, but your hair tut, tut, I will send you a picture of how you will change it.

I guess things were really getting out of control when first, I was told to change my hair style, to a short bob and the colour from blonde to black, which of course I did. Then the clothes I was wearing to work.  Nothing too drastic at first much like the pictures I originally received. Slowly I morphed by email prompts from a quite professional but colourful wardrobe to drab matronly grey or black suits no fancy lingerie only plain underwear like that which accompanied the maid’s uniform.

Jewellery had to be minimal as was my makeup. By the end of my wardrobe transformation I was looking quite dowdy.

The day I had my hair done, gone my long blonde curls replaced by the black straight short bob style, Caroline was the first to compliment me, in fact the only one to compliment me. The other members of staff just gave me odd looks and questioned why.  Not that I could tell them my web Mistress had instructed me to do it.

The clothes I wore to work, well it was a slow and gradual change but again as with the change in hair style only Caroline was supportive. Caroline, now looking much the more professional of the two of us, in her designer suits, long hair and immaculate makeup, whilst I restricted myself to the off the peg low rent outfits demanded by my mistress.

One Friday evening, sat at the computer wearing my maid’s uniform, engrossed in preparing table for another of my mistress’s dinner parties, I did not hear the outer office door opening.

I froze when my own office door opened and I heard the voice of my assistant Caroline.

“Still working Miss Barkley, oh, you never said, are you going to a fancy-dress ball?”

Blushing I swivelled around in my chair then stood to face Caroline smoothing down my skirts and apron my mind struggling to find words to explain.

“Miss Barkley?”

Caroline noticed my name badge.

“Oh, sorry Molly is it? That maid’s uniform really suits you, it looks very professional. No, you are not going to a fancy-dress party, are you?”

I stuttered.

“Yes, yes I am a fancy-dress party erm, erm I just called in to finish the erm, erm.”

Caroline brushed past me and sat in my chair to look at my computer screen and chuckled.

“O dear so this is what you get up to in the evenings moonlighting as a cyber maid, interesting and dressed for the part how nice, I doubt the other partners would want to see this would they MOLLY?”

My face was turning crimson with embarrassment.

Caroline looked up at me and smiled.

“Let me see what a good maid you are, Molly. Coffee for me and some of those special biscuits that you senior partners have.”     
                        

I almost dropped a curtsy but didn’t, then turned and headed for the kitchen, anything to get away from Caroline’s mocking looks.

Oh shit, what am I going to do? My other clothing was in my office I was stuck in my maid’s uniform.

 Returning with a coffee and biscuits for my assistant I set the saucer, cup and plate down on my desk and stood back.

Whilst I was making the coffee Caroline had scanned the emails and my performances with the various tasks for my mistress and smiled.

“Well looking at this you have become quite the accomplished maid Molly.”

Caroline’s face turned quite serious.

“Now Molly show me how you curtsy for your Mistress.”

My face red with embarrassment and my legs turning to jelly I pleaded with Caroline.

“What? No, No, Please Caroline don’t call me Molly and make me do this please, it is just a computer game look you mustn’t tell anyone you mustn’t. If the other partners found out, well they would not understand, would they?”

Caroline smirked.

“I said curtsy, Molly like you would for your Mistress. Do it.”

I should have called a halt to the whole thing it had gone too far, told Caroline to get out, but I couldn’t, I didn’t and meekly dropped a curtsy and Caroline chuckled.

“Well, Miss Barkley in view of this and you wanting me to keep this quiet I feel a promotion coming don’t you MOLLY?  You can continue with your maid training and I will take more of the case load burden here in the office, our little secret hey MOLLY?”

I looked at Caroline sat at my desk a smile on her face looking me up and down.

“Caroline I will have to run this by the other senior partners before I can get you promoted, they will have to sanction it.”

My assistant stood and walked towards me and adjusted the collar of my maid’s dress then straightened the lacy cap now sat quite comfortably on my short black bob making me shiver.

“Yes, they will, you just make sure they do my pretty maid.”

Caroline giggled.

“Now I notice that Molly has punishments due on your screen?”

Caroline strolled over to the large plants growing by the window of my office and removed a support cane and flexed it in her hands and spoke in a low demanding tone.

“So, you don’t forget our arrangement MOLLY?”

“Over Miss Barkley’s desk MOLLY, lift your skirts and lower your knickers show me your ass.”

I looked at my assistant Caroline and begged her not to cane and humiliate me but she was adamant. As with the curtsy I could not help myself and I leaned over my desk, raised my skirts and lowered my knickers as she had asked.

The first, second, third and fourth strokes stung and burned and I yelped but strange erotic feelings grew within me as further hard stripes crisscrossed my buttocks with their crimson welts.

 Caroline, laying on the cane, berated me calling me a stupid maid, soft, weak, and pathetic which only served to reinforce the persona of maid Molly that was consuming me from within gripping me with a feeling of wilful helplessness. What was happening to me?

The cane split after Caroline’s exertions and I lay over my desk whimpering my bottom ablaze but aware I was wet.

Caroline, laughing at her boss, dressed in a maid’s uniform, knickers to her knees willingly accepting to be caned on her bare ass, saw and then felt at my wetness then brushed back her hair before giving my exposed arse a swift spank.

“Yes, I thought as much, you pathetic slut, you get back to your maid’s work Molly and don’t forget our agreement or everyone will know what you are, Molly.”

With that comment Caroline left and raising my knickers I painfully sat back into my chair, my mind racing. Caroline now knew how I had become entrapped in the maid’s game and how I had become submissive, and more importantly submissive to her, my assistant.

Not long after Caroline had left the office my inbox pinged it was my Mistress.

My table, you stupid girl. Guests will be arriving

I responded.

“Yes, Miss. Sorry, Miss.”

Back into the nonreality of the game with which I had become embroiled I resumed my duties and prepared table for my Mistress.

The following day Caroline gave me a knowing look as I entered the board room to meet with the other senior partners.

Following discussions about Caroline and, also thrown onto the agenda, my recent poor performance, I could not protest, given it was at my insistence, that it was agreed that Caroline, the rising star of chambers, would officially take over my lead role in court and in the office and I would be subordinate to her.  The other partners saw nothing temporary in this arrangement and by the close of business a revised contract was presented to me confirming my demotion which, under the smirking gaze of Caroline I signed. 

 Caroline did not prevent me from continuing with the “game” in fact she encouraged me to continue the maid training given by my Mistress. A computer set up in the storeroom in the corner of my office especially for me, my office? Not any longer, this now taken over by my assistant,

My work load soon dried up completely and I became no more than a secretary to Caroline, or Miss Stephenson as I now addressed her. Miss Stephenson who thrived in her new role and was soon made up to senior partner to fill the vacancy I had created.

Watching Miss Stephenson at work dressed in her Dior suits and heels, no doubt covering designer Lingerie, I looked at my own drab attire and reflected on my self-imposed demise that my obsession with the “game” had brought about.

My salary having been decimated, since my demotion, I had been given notice on my apartment with a bill for the arrears. I had confided in Miss Stephenson but she refused to increase my pay given I was now nothing more than just a mere clerk at chambers, her clerk. But told me she would see what she could do.

Knowing of my nocturnal activities and, wanting me out of the way whilst she furthered her career without me watching over her, I could not refuse when I was told by my now boss that I would be working night shifts.

The work allocated to me on the night shift being menial archive filing and preparing documents with the added opportunity to enhance my salary by cleaning the offices, a cleaner’s smock being provided. Working has the office cleaner Miss Stephenson told me it would give me practical hands on training in the ways of a maid.

 Miss Stephenson called in to visit at least once a week to check on my progress on the computer. Should more punishments have been given me she would administer them with a cane which she now kept by her desk.  Miss Stephenson would ask how many punishment’s I was due then have me hand her the cane, curtsy and ask her to punish me with the required strokes. Each time bent over her desk with my knickers to my knees she would mock me for becoming wet and sexually aroused at being punished.

I now knew every room in my Mistresses house, when it required cleaning, dusting and polishing. The laundry carried out twice a week all the items pressed and returned to the relevant room and closet or drawers, even a maid’s quarters where uniforms were hung. Prompts came by email and I dutifully carried out my tasks curtsying in front of the web cam when instructed to do so. Caring for my Mistresses home having become practically a full-time job now.

Months had passed since Miss Stephenson had taken over my role.  Miss Stephenson now was insisting that I start my office cleaning before the staff left. At first it was a novelty for the senior partners and staff to see me in my cheap cleaner’s smock emptying the trash and cleaning. But after not too long I was just ignored becoming anonymous to them as I went about my cleaning duties.  As was my routine now, having cleaned the offices, I removed my cleaners smock, dressed in my maid’s uniform and sat locked in the store room by my computer screen waiting for my tasks from my Mistress to come into my mail box.

One particular evening an address appeared on the screen with a message telling me to go to the address immediately, not to change from my uniform, but to go as I was.  The screen then went blank and I tapped on the keys furiously, rebooted a few times, but nothing was happening.

So, programmed not to disobey my Mistress, I was soon reaching for my coat and purse.

I was not familiar with the district only knowing it was on the edge of town. I had lost my company vehicle when demoted, Miss Stephenson drove that now, and the journey would have to be made by public transport. Establishing which route to take I crept down the stair way, through the office entrance, passed the smirking security, all aware of my demotion, and out onto the sidewalk.

I had never ventured outside dressed in my maid’s uniform before and felt quite vulnerable pulling my coat across me as I trudged to the bus stop and sat down on the bench.

The number 284 for Longmarsh arrived after a short while and I stepped aboard not knowing what lay ahead.

The driver telling me that this was my stop I left the bus and squinted at the paper I had scrawled the address down on.

 I found the house, a large detached property set back from the road. The driveway and outside looked strangely familiar and when I arrived at the door it was uncanny? I had cleaned a door just like this and scrubbed the steps many times for my mistress?

I rang the bell and waited, was I about to meet Destiny, my Mistress?

I rocked back in disbelieve when the door opened. It was Caroline, Miss Stephenson!

A second mature lady came to stand by her, smiling.

Miss Stephenson looked me up and down, a smirk on her face, before turning to the lady next to her.

“Mummy, this is the maid that I told you about. Molly, she has been trained to look after our house, do all the cleaning, cooking and laundry, she starts tomorrow.”

I gulped.

“But Miss Stephenson I...”

My words were cut short when Miss Stephenson laughed and held up the contract I had signed.

I just stood frozen. This could not be happening to me!

“Miss Stephenson, please, I am not Molly, you can’t have me has your maid, you can’t!”

Miss Stephenson smiled.

 “Can’t I, Molly? This contract means I can, this agreement was authenticated by the contracts staff at chambers. It is legally binding, now get inside, you stupid girl, you know where the maid’s quarters are. You have cleaned them often enough on that computer simulation.”

“Now you will be cleaning for real. I have your resignation letter for you to sign which I am sure the partners will accept especially when I enclose a copy of this contract.”

The contract? Oh my God, no! Caroline is the Mistress, the images were of her own home. I have been serving Miss Stephenson, cleaning her house, the contract pledging myself to my Mistress, to be her maid, agreeing to my name change to Molly. It was my assistant all along! How could I have been so stupid, what have I done?

What I had thought a game was something more sinister: Caroline, Miss Stephenson, had taken my job and turned me from a successful lawyer into her maid.  

My head lowered, fighting back tears, I entered Miss Stephenson’s home.

Walking down the familiar hallway, I passed the furniture I had polished many times. The realisation of what my assistant, Caroline, Miss Stephenson, had done with me sinking in. Over the months she had trained me to be the perfect maid of her household.

Never having actually stepped inside the house before, I knew everything about its cleaning and domestic requirements.  I was no longer a mere cyber maid; Miss Stephenson now had her real maid, me, her ex-boss Miss Barkley, her maid Molly.

Having lost my position and status at work along with my apartment and being virtually broke I would make the perfect maid and of course I did. I had no option now but to serve my assistant, my Mistress.

Walking away down the hallway to the maid’s quarters, that will now be my home, I overheard Caroline’s mother.

“Well Caroline you said we would be having a maid but Miss Barkley, your old boss, that is so exquisite dear and she was always dressed so smartly as well, she looks very different now. I don’t know what you have done with her, my daughter, and I don’t really care. She is going to be just perfect, our perfect maid.”

The reply from Caroline stung as I realised how I had been tricked into servitude at the hands of my assistant. I was trapped now. I was her maid and she my Mistress.

“Yes, Mummy. I thought you would like it, remember how you had to grovel and pay her for me to be her intern, all those rules I had to obey at the start of my training? She was so high and mighty full of airs and graces, but I knew she was a submissive just waiting to be mastered the day I met her it was just a matter of time.”

Opening the door into the maid’s quarters I wondered whether what my mistress had said to her mother was true. Had I always been waiting for this, to be enslaved, taken to be a maid by an ambitious ruthless woman?

The sharp voice of Miss Stephenson echoed down the hallway.

“Drinks, Molly. In the lounge, the usual for your Mistress.”

I scurried up the hallway, prepared the drinks as I had done many times on the computer simulation and entering the lounge, curtsied and served my mistress and her mother.  My life as their maid now for real.

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