Friday, June 27, 2014
Hi all its been ages since I've posted anything, I check in and read the wonderful stories that have been going on here Carrie's latest story Suitable Position has inspired me to pull out a few pics from this spring and winter. I took a departure from my more glamorous skirt suits and businesswear look and went decidedly more homely. Not sure about the glasses but I thought they added to the look. I had a fantasy about my wife coming home and finding me doing chores like this and--of course--making it a regular thing, and in fact, being mad at me as we currently have a housekeeper come over every other week, while I could have been doing it all along and saving us money. Shortly thereafter, she gets promoted at work and, predictably I get laid-off. As she starts dressing nicer (more commensurate with her new position) and starts to become upwardly mobile socially and in her career, I settle into my role as a uniformed domestic. It gets harder and harder for her to see me as a man anymore....sigh, if only--well that's what these stories are for, now aren't they?! (The last pic I couldn't help it and played both roles...one day maybe I'll get my wife to)
Sunday, June 22, 2014
Below is second part of A Suitable Position, again thanks to those who liked and commented on it I appreciate you taking the time and effort to do so but before that just a few lines on Dave’s insightful comments on chapter 1
Dave I’m convinced you’ve hacked into my brain, I had intended to post the second part and then just leave it at that but following your comments I’ll have to reconsider. You’ve raised some really interesting points about the blog in general and also what I said in my last comment.
I understand your views about other blogs, it’s a good argument and your points are very well made, I just hadn’t considered it in that light. Perhaps you are right but in the absence of any indication it’s hard to know definitively but as I’ve said I do take your point. It’s not so much the frustration as the concern – fear perhaps – I really don’t know if I’m making a complete idiot of myself with this story but you LG and the other commenters have now more than allayed those concerns so thanks for that. Your comments always help to keep me on my toes.
What you mentioned about knowing where this eventually goes I suspect is an enduring one with this genre but I think it’s the journey rather than the destination is what makes it enjoyable.
The point you made about the quality of Bea’s writing was also foremost in my mind. He’s set a very high standard so for me it’s like a singer making his debut at the Met Opera after Pavarotti has just left the stage. He’s a hard act to follow and those are very large stilettos to fill. So thank you very much for the vote of confidence.
I’m really glad you started drawing again that’s a marvellous talent you have and if I had something, no matter how small, to do with it then I couldn’t be happier, you’ve made my day.
With regards to your own writing I believe Samuel Beckett has the best advice,
“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.”
I need to heed that also.
Robert’s back story is so far down the road it’s probably over the border in another State, in fact it could form either a prequel or a sequel.
I’ve had another look and hopefully the typos and any grammatical errors are sorted if not apologies in advance. Ok, here goes, hope this is up to scratch.
A Suitable Position ©
Time for Bed
His heart pounded in his chest as he turned around to face his employer his face flushed with embarrassment.
“I… ah …em I meant….”he spluttered and realising how foolish he sounded served only to heighten his discomfort.
“Oh do go on” Frau Kirchen said in a calm voice “I’d really like to hear your views.”
“I just thought it a bit early to have to go to bed” he said sheepishly still smarting from being caught criticising his employer behind her back.
“Would you prefer to have to work until mid-night like some Mistresses I know have their maids do -and then have them rise again at 6am? Is that really what you really want -because I can arrange it? Greta tells me how overworked she is all the time so I’m sure you could be kept busy from sunrise to sunset. Maybe you’re one of these people who only need a few hours’ sleep.”
He desperately wanted to correct her and shout he wasn’t a maid but reckoned he was in enough trouble as it stood and thought better of mentioning it. While it was patently ridiculous to be sent to bed at such an hour arguing against it could very well result in him working longer hours.
What was the point he thought, best let it go.
He was lost in these thoughts and forgot she was still waiting for an answer.
“Well?” she snapped annoyed at his delayed response.
“I apologise ... I just wasn’t thinking straight, of course you are correct, a good night’s rest is very important” he lied.
“I think you’d better say that again and this time please remember to whom you are speaking” she snapped, the irritation clearly audible in her voice.
He looked at her with a blank expression not understanding what she meant but he realised from her tone and impatient demeanour she required a response of some kind. Greta who was standing behind Frau Kirchen caught his eye and mouthed the words MADAM and dropped a curtsy. What little composure he had left now evaporated and he began to panic under her steely gaze.
“I’m so sorry Madam I wasn’t thinking straight please forgive me, a good night’s rest is very important.” he meekly said and with his Greta still in his eye line and by now extremely flustered he inexplicably imitated her and as the shame overcame him he fixed his eyes on the floor and in a most submissive fashion he lowered himself into a curtsy. It took a few seconds for the fog in his brain to clear and realising what he had just done blushed furiously.
“That was a charming gesture, and not too bad for a male” Frau Kirchen said in a warm voice, her anger vanishing and now replaced by a smile. Her whole demeanour had changed almost instantaneously it was the first time he had seen her smile and he noticed how striking she was. Large violet eyes enhanced by subtle eye-shadow under perfectly sculpted eyebrows, high cheek bone set off with the barest hint of blusher over perfect light make-up, her exquisite white teeth contrasted with the rich rose lipstick of her full lips.
He felt his knees tremble as she approached him and got close enough for him to smell the sweetness of her breath and staring at his with those magnificent eyes she continued softly,
“Yes a curtsy is such a graceful movement, so genteel …. I think I’d prefer you to curtsy rather than bow to me from now on. It’s a far more elegant way of showing respect to one’s mistress, don’t you think? You’ll do that for me now …won’t you?”
He was now acutely aware of the predicament he was in and cursed himself for it, how could he agree to something so demeaning.
“But surely that’s only for girls” he mumbled appealing to her common sense.
“Perhaps…. but it would make me happy and would go a long way towards showing you are truly sorry for your deeply offensive remarks” she breathed the words softly into his ear while caressing his face with the back of her hand.
“Well…. I … it’s just…..em..” he stammered.
“You are sorry aren’t you?” she said the merest hint of annoyance creeping into her voice.
Yes..yes of course” he blurted anxious to assure her while desperately trying to think of a way out of this morass.
“Of course… what??” she snapped.
“Madam” he blurted, confusion paralyzing his thought process and with it all hope of finding a solution to his problem fast disappearing.
“Now let me see your curtsy again, I think you could improve it slightly” Frau Kirchen curtly instructed gave him no time to respond.
The tone of her voice allowed no room for negotiation and with a deep sense of mortification he placed his right leg behind his left and bent his knees, his masculinity lowering along with his body as he executed an awkward but passable curtsy.
“Much better but this time hold the material of those ghastly trousers between your forefinger and thumb……….we really must do something about those trousers Greta…”and sensing his hesitation brusquely added “well don’t just stand there with your mouth open do it girl.”
The barked order still ringing in his ears he quickly obeyed following her instructions to the letter and as he rose from his curtsy it he suddenly dawned on him that she had referred to him as girl but her obvious satisfaction with his latest attempt tempered his inclination to correct her lest it was just a slip of the tongue. There wasn’t much point in souring her good humour for a simple error he reasoned.
“Ah yes perfect” she beamed clasping her hands to her ample bosom in much the same way as a mother would when her child exceeds her expectations, unable to contain herself she excitedly applauded his new achievement encouraging Greta to also join in.
He never felt so embarrassed in all his life and blushed once more at the obvious excitement he had generated.
“Now please ensure you remember how to do it, in future I’ll be expecting nothing less than a perfect curtsy” she said before adding “now it’s time you prepared for bed before you have your evening cocoa. Go have a shower get into your pyjamas and dressing gown and join us in the living room.”
He looked at her blankly and then turned to Greta.
“I’m sorry Madam I didn’t have time to inform him of your night-time routine” Greta apologised and turning to Robert continued “well run along and do as Madam says.”
“Eh .. well the thing is .. ah I don’t wear pyjamas….. I don’t have any” he mumbled noting the look of disapproval on Frau Kirchen’s face.
“From his luggage, if you could call it that Madam, I’d say he has very little by way of clothes” Greta unhelpfully added.
“Oh I dare say we can find you something. Greta will leave out something on your bed that you can wear for tonight, after your shower you can put it on and join us in the living room. Frau Kirchen said and dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Now run along there’s a good girl and please take time to shower properly not less than ten minutes I insist on the highest personal hygiene standards for my servants.”
After the trauma of the last few minutes he was only too relieved to escape her attention even if it was only for ten or fifteen minutes, he hastily made for his bedroom. His heart was still racing as he closed the door and he took a few moments to calm down, sitting on the bed he once again took in the room he gradually became aware of the soft feel of the satin quilt and his nostrils detected the delicate fragrance of a feminine floral scent he looked hard but couldn’t find a shred of anything masculine about it whatsoever. Downhearted he stripped off his clothes and headed for the sanctuary of the shower and was glad of the time alone and tried to think of a strategy to deal with this dilemma. He began to calm down and was glad of the few moments to get ready before he had to join them in the living room the last thing he wanted them was to see him without clothes. He hoped her late husband’s pyjamas were loose fitting he had been teased mercilessly by girls before and he didn’t want either woman to see more than they had to. He wasn’t sure how long he had been in the shower when he heard Greta’s voice call him.
“That’s enough, you should be quite clean by now” she shouted through the door “dry yourself and get in here quickly.
The sound of her voice triggered an immediate alarm in him and immediately his heart began racing this wasn’t supposed to happen but then again as the last few hours had shown a lot of things weren’t supposed to happen.
“Won’t be long” he replied trying to supress his rising panic and frantically scanning the bathroom for a robe.
Shit! he thought nothing except the large bath towel – it will have to do.
As it is with girls many young males have body issues and Robert Kilcoyne had more reason than most to avoid appearing bare chested in front of strangers. Minutes later he emerged sheepishly into the bedroom the large towel covering his body from his above his chest to just below the knee, he tucked it in under his left armpit to secure it in place. He was aware it wasn’t the most masculine of looks and in truth he knew it was the way girls covered themselves but he thought to himself in this situation it was all he could do.
He was taken aback to find Frau Kirchen had joined Greta but he knew he couldn’t exactly ask her to leave.
“Oh how very modest you are, covering yourself like a girl and sparing our blushes” Frau Kirchen purred as she watched him emerge from the bathroom and cross the bedroom floor “ Greta the boy’s hair is still wet fetch a towel and wrap it up. We don’t want him catching cold.”
Try as he might to find a satisfactory response he couldn’t and stood obediently as Greta wrapped the towel into a turban around his head. He had often seen his aunts and their female guests arrange towels in a similar fashion and stealing a furtive glace at the floor length mirror he now knew the image he projected was more feminine than masculine. Frau Kirchen turned her back to him and began arranging something on the bed but as his view was obscured by her and Greta he failed to see what was piquing her interest.
“I thought I’d better help you choose as I’m not sure which colours will suit you best, I prefer this one but Greta says the baby blue would go more with the colour scheme of the room. What do you think?”
All this fuss over a pair of pyjamas he thought regaining some composure.
As he approached the two women they parted and he saw the bed was covered with several items of an undoubtedly feminine nature.
His eyes widened he felt a tremor in his knees as Frau Kirchen held up a pair of soft pink satin pyjamas, he desperately wanted to reason with her but suddenly felt his mouth dry up.
Surely she doesn’t expect me to wear that. He screamed inside. Those are women’s pyjamas.
She held out the pyjamas and in what could only be described as a state of utter shock and unable to voice any coherent protest he reluctantly found himself accepting the feminine garment.
“Now go behind the screen and put them on……. like the good houseboy you are.” she said pointing to the dressing screen in the corner of the room.
He bristled at the reference to houseboy in such a condescending tone and in the moment or two he hesitated contemplating declining her demeaning request he saw her fold her arms over her adequate breasts in a gesture which seemed to dare him to refuse.
“Do you have a problem boy?” she snapped.
The irritation in her voice left him in no doubt there would be consequences if he failed to comply and as his current state of dress left him feeling extremely vulnerable he knew he would look and sound ridiculous if he angrily refused.
Meekly he took the feminine nightwear and went behind the screen.
Now safely out of their view he held up the offending article to examine it. On closer inspection it was even more feminine than he had thought, he removed his towel and as he pulled on the bottoms the soft material caressed his thighs and he felt a stirring between his legs and desperately tried to think of anything at all to control it, pulling the top over his head the unmistakably strong scent of perfume assailed his nostrils. He looked down luckily the voluminous pants seemed to hide his soft but growing erection and the top hopefully would be loose enough. He knew he looked preposterous and was reluctant to reveal himself but had little choice when he heard Greta call.
“Either you come out or I’ll come in and drag you out”
He heard supressed laughter and red-faced he emerged slowly to enthusiastic coos of approval from his tormentors almost tripping in the process as his feet caught the overlong material in the pants.
“Hmm…Yes very nice but as I suspected it is a little long.” Frau Kirchen pondered out loud.
“I thought they might be Madam” Greta offered trying to ingratiate herself with her mistress “so I also brought along the matching slippers he seems to have a small foot size for a male so I thought they might fit.”
“Clever girl” her mistress said clearly pleased with Greta’s initiative “put them on him and we’ll see if it makes a difference”
Frau Kirchen watched as her maid knelt in front of the now bewildered and shamefaced boy laying the slippers to one side. She noticed how the girl lifted his right foot and gently stoked it before placing the satin kitten heeled slipper on it and then repeating the procedure with the left foot discretely rubbing his calf through the satin material before rising to her feet and straightening her apron. Frau Kirchen thought her maid seemed a little flushed and had to admit to herself that for some reason she couldn’t quite make out, the satin clad figure had held an attraction for her also. Her interest in men was minimal and in truth she really couldn’t abide the creatures particularly the older ones, their macho posturing and sexism was something she experienced quite frequently during her early career and as a result held them in low esteem and engaged with them only when absolutely necessary or when she deemed it beneficial to her interests. She recalled the way they wore those dark suits as if they conferred some sort of superiority, considering it a badge of authority giving the wearer the right to patronise what they considered to be the weaker sex. Often she’d wondered if, stripped of their armour and forced to wear more revealing clothes like skirts and dresses not to mention constricting underwear, would their attitude towards women be more empathic? The apparent change in her new employee seemed to go some way in suggesting this to be the case as there seemed to be a discernable difference in the haughty male who confidently strode into her study only a few short hours ago but how long before that inflated male ego would surface. Underneath that veneer of male self-importance she thought she sensed a shred of modesty maybe living in an all -female household would help him overcome his stubborn masculine impudence. Maybe this was a chance to save him from himself, set him on the right path, she could help this boy avoid such misogynistic behaviour, no! better still, prevent it from even happening in the first place, nip it in the bud.
I’m sure it would stand to him in later life she thought.
The two inch heels had the desired effect, the voluminous satin pants no longer trailed the floor but he felt his calves tighten as they adjusted to the new angle of his ankles being forced two inches off the ground. This latest addition to his night attire stripped him of any hope of maintaining even the merest semblance of male dignity. Robert looked down and as he moved his feet to his horror found he could make out satin bows on the slippers. Another wave of embarrassment washed over him and he hung his head slightly hoping his long brown hair would partially cover the mounting humiliation he now felt. After getting to her feet and straightening her apron Greta stood back to allow her mistress to inspect the boy.
“Better, I’ve always thought appropriate footwear is so important to compliment one’s nightgown and those slippers complete the look wonderfully.” Frau Kirchen trilled, taking a moment to survey the boy, she continued “but that gorgeous hair needs to be tied back so the poor boy can see. Greta, brush his hair back and up please, the way you’ve done for me several times.”
Robert by now practically immobile from shock nevertheless heard her words “compliment one’s nightgown” very clearly, but unable as he was to mount any serious protest meekly allowed the maid to brush his hair into the style required by her mistress and could only watch helplessly as his tormentress removed the jewelled hair combs from her own hair and fix them firmly either side of his head to hold his new hairstyle in place. Both she and Greta stood back to admire their handiwork.
“Yes Madam, much better. I wasn’t sure the pyjamas would fit, particularly around the bust.” Greta gushed clearly delighted with the result.
“Yes, a great improvement” Frau Kirchen agreed “and I have to admit he does look better in them than I do, they were a birthday gift from my friend Her Grace, Lady Edwina the Duchess of Leinster.
OH NO the voice inside his head screamed. I’m wearing her pyjamas and slippers.”
His persecutor cast her eye over the wretched boy in front of her and he thought he saw a smile forming as she took in his obvious discomfort before continuing,
“As you can see they’re cut in a vintage style and made from pale pink buttery soft Duchess satin- obviously – with a floaty lace appliqué top and wide leg cut pants with side button closure. Very chic, very feminine, Lady Edwina has such very good taste when it comes to beautiful nightwear, don’t you think Robert?”
Still trying to come to terms with his predicament he barely noticed he was asked a question.
“The mistress asked you a question.” Greta upbraided him still hoping to worm her way into her employer’s good books.
“Yes” Robert answered unable to bring himself to comment further his brain now addled by being on show in such a horrible ultra- feminine garment.
“Are you forgetting to whom you are speaking and how you should act?” Greta scolded him and this time she noticed her admonishment clearly impressed her mistress.
The tone of Greta’s voice and Frau Kirchen’s now obvious displeasure at his failure to address her properly shook Robert from his almost hypnotic state. He knew he would have to redeem himself quickly if he was not to incur her ire and possibly a more severe tongue lashing.
“I’m sorry Madam I’m just not used to such luxurious nightwear?” he lied through his teeth but quickly remembered he had somehow agreed he should now curtsy when speaking to her. He held the inordinately plentiful soft material of the pyjama pants –which he hated to admit was in reality more like a skirt -between each thumb and forefinger and placing his right knee behind his left he once more lowered himself into the required degrading curtsy.
“I’m glad to see you haven’t forgotten everything you’ve been taught this evening” Frau Kirchen said undeniably pleased at his curtsy.” So you feel comfortable in your new nightwear”
“Yes Madam, very comfortable” he again lied and curtsied once more for good measure.
“Well thank Madam for her kindness.” Greta chided him.
“Thank you Madam for providing me with pyjamas for the night, it was very kind of you.” he mumbled hoping he sounded convincing and curtsied once more making a mental note that he would purchase a pair of men’s pyjamas the following morning to ensure he would not have to go through this mortifying experience again.
“And …..” Greta reminded him.
“And the hair clips Madam” he said quietly, wishing the ground would open and swallow him adding to his mental note a haircut.
“You are welcome” Frau Kirchen smiled but before Robert could draw breath she added,
“Think of them as a gift for the duration of your stay with me, look your initials are already on them.”
He had been so perplexed during this whole charade that he hadn’t noticed the large initials RK embroidered ornately into the pocket of the jacket.
“Yes instead of Rozamund Kirchen they now stand for Robert Kilcoyne, they suit you so well, I’m sure you will wear them with pride.”
Oh no not my initials it’s like she’s branded me- and now she wants me to wear them every night, he thought but reasoned that she probably meant this outrageous remark more as a compliment than an insult, not wishing to provoke a potential confrontation he feigned another smile.
“Greta, the matching robe.” she instructed the maid.
“Oh do stand up straight girl, shoulders back…. Oh for heaven’s sake you’re slouching I simply cannot abide poor posture it’s so unbecoming and ungainly in a servant not to mention a sign of ill breeding” Frau Kirchen berated him and began fussing at the pyjama top as he reluctantly did as he was told.
“Much better, poor posture can lead to….”she broke off as she thought she spotted something unusual, then added, “What’s have we here”?
She put her hand to his chest, Robert froze, his secret was about to be uncovered, literally.
“Please Madam no.. please no..” he pleaded and tried to make for the bathroom but she had already caught him firmly by the hand and in an instant Greta had hold of his other hand.
“No, please no” he repeated.
“It’s all right my dear, it’s all right” Frau Kirchen said quietly and he noticed a strange look had come over her as he saw her eyes widen as she suddenly became aware of something not quite right, Greta moved closer as her mistress unbuttoned his pyjama top and slid it from his shoulders to reveal a pair of well-rounded and reasonably sized breasts.
“Now I know why my pyjamas fit you so well and why you wear an oversize shirt it also explains why you’ve been slouching since you’ve arrived here.” she said
She cupped the flesh in her soft hands and squeezed them gently and despite his upset he knew what would happen – his nipples began to enlarge.
“He’s got lovely little titties” Greta said somewhat uncouthly unable to contain her astonishment much to Madam’s chagrin, before adding “I’ve never seen anything like it”
“It’s called Gynecomastia, and please don’t refer to them as titties, it’s so crude” Frau Kirchen informed her maid brusquely “they are breasts just like ours. I believe this condition can be quite common in younger males but it’s unusual for a male of Robert’s age to still have them and so well developed too. Feel them they’re just like a woman’s.”
Greta needing no encouragement stepped forward and looking him directly in the eyes cupped both breasts of the now sobbing boy in her hands and was amazed at the feel of such quintessentially feminine glands on a male, she’d felt many a girl’s breasts and there was no difference.
“There’s no need to be upset or embarrassed, these things happen.” Frau Kirchen addressed him after instructing Greta to step back. “I must confess I was more than a little hesitant at employing a male and wondered whether you would fit into an all -female house but now it makes little difference as you have something in common with your fellow servant. She drew an embroidered handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed his eyes.
“There, there..” she consoled him and instructed Greta to put the pyjama top back on him “ dry your eyes it’s just one of nature’s little tricks much in the same way as some people have bigger noses, ears or whatever no need to feel embarrassed and as I said you do fill my pyjama top in all the right places.”
In the few moments she turned to discuss something with the maid Robert’s mind tried to process the avalanche of thoughts now running through it. He had managed to keep his breasts secret from most people mainly through various ruses like large sized shirts and hunching his shoulders to minimise the their size which he’s almost gotten away with here. He’d also tried binding with a large bandage type fabric a trick he’d learnt from a strange woman his aunts had stay with them some time back and if he had known this job was live-in he would have taken similar measures to conceal them better before he arrived. His aunts of course knew of his condition and recently had expressed some strange views on the subject but he’d managed to leave before they took these any further. Despite his constant pleadings his aunts were not that keen on surgery citing potential health risks and wanted to postpone the decision for a few years and as he would not reach the required age to allow him access to his trust fund for another two years he was in limbo. Barely a few hours ago the opportunity for the money he so desperately needed became a reality and the salary on offer was more than enough to pay for the surgery however he hadn’t counted on having to make so many compromises but he knew he really had no choice – this was the only way he could finance the operation. The contract was only for a few weeks and that would be would be sufficient, once he had completed his time and collected his money he would be able to leave. While he felt her rules were incredibly restrictive and controlling even down to insisting that her servants went to bed at nine pm and insisting he wear pyjamas, Frau Kitchen despite her authoritarian manner seemed to be supportive and accepting of his condition, although he had wished she hadn’t insisted on making him wear these horrible pyjamas.
Her pyjamas he reminded himself and cringed.
“I think the poor girl has suffered enough embarrassment now that we have discovered her secret Greta” Frau Kirchen announced.
Robert snapped out of his stupor at the mention of him as a girl and felt a surge of anger rise and was just about to interrupt her when she added
“Put him into his dressing gown I’m sure he will feel a little more comfortable and we’ll take cocoa in the servants lounge.”
Maybe just a slip of the tongue- she probably didn’t mean any harm, he thought and his anger subsided. He held out the hope that the dressing gown would be if not quite masculine then decidedly less feminine that his new satin pyjamas. He was sorely disappointed and watched in horror as Greta held out the full length robe for him to slide his arms through, he could not help thinking this garment was even more feminine if that was possible.
The fabric was a heavy quilted satin in the matching soft pink of his pyjamas with an embroidered bodice stitched with gold thread, the wide lapels were at least twice the depth of quilting and there was elaborate runching at the top of the shoulders, the big puffed pleated sleeves flared out extravagantly. When he saw it held out for him he recoiled and while he wished to have his ultra-feminine nightwear covered he immediately recognised this dressing gown would only serve to enhance his increasingly girlish look. He had little choice and with a resigned submissiveness he was not used to, slid his arms into the sleeves, Greta wasted little time in tying the satin belt tightly into an elaborate bow at the front.
“Yes…very nice” Frau Kirchen purred as she made minor adjustments to the sleeves and lapels allowing her hand to linger a little longer than necessary at his breasts adding as an afterthought “mind you I had forgotten it is a tad longer than the pyjamas. I usually wear the three inch slippers rather than the two inch ones he’s wearing, what do you think Greta?”
“It is a bit long Madam but perhaps if he holds it up slightly when walking he may avoid tripping.” Greta answered.
“You mean like an evening gown. Of course, silly me women and girls do it all the time. Please show him how it’s done.” her mistress instructed.
Robert looked aghast, he hardly understood an iota of what they were talking about but nonetheless could clearly comprehend that they were comparing his new nightwear to a lady’s evening gown. After snatching another glimpse of his ridiculous reflection in the full length mirror and much to his extreme chagrin he had to concede they had a point.
“Now pet, your gown is a little too long” Greta began condescendingly as if speaking to a six year old “we don’t want you tripping yourself, now do we, there’s a good girl, sorry boy? So when a girl’s dress is too long she lifts her skirts from the thigh, like this”
Greta demonstrated by lifting the skirt of her own uniform.
“Now you try.” she said a sly smirk creasing her face.
Robert suspected she was enjoying his discomfort but was unable to respond in any meaningful way as he was by now totally demoralised and not only by the humiliating feminine clothes he had been forced to wear but also by the fact that both women now knew his most intimate and mortifying secret – his small but undoubtedly feminine breasts. He was however very grateful that neither woman mocked him in the way some had done when he was discovered in college after emerging from a shower bare breasted. The situation he had found himself in now was so overwhelming he just wanted to escape their presence and although his primary emotion was anger caused by his subjugation, he felt- dressed as he was he would look even more ridiculous if he threw a tantrum and considered his best course of action would be to go along with them, at least it may expedite the process and he could finally retreat to relative sanctuary of his room. But for now he had to obey the uniformed maid giving him instructions on how to carry himself in this preposterous gown.
Shamefaced he did as he was told holding his quilted satin dressing gown between the fingers of both hands and lifting the hem several inches off the floor exactly like he had seen his aunts do with their elaborate evening gowns when they dressed for the opera.
“Well done, very elegant” Frau Kirchen encouraged as he walked a few steps across the bedroom floor, he felt a sting in her remark but concluded by her tone it wasn’t meant hurtfully.
“Yes Madam, surprising as he’s in heels” Greta added with more than a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
“I think we could all do with that cocoa now Greta” Frau Kirchen announced prompting Greta to head for the kitchen leaving them alone.
The sophisticated and imposing figure of his new employer walked slowly over to him and gently brushed the stray strands of hair from his cheeks behind his ears and gazed deeply into his eyes, he tried to step back but his legs would not respond. She touched his cheek gently with the back of her hand and then slowly slid her other hand down the luxurious satin gown and lingered at his hated breasts tracing her finger around the fleshy mound. As she pressed her own ample breasts against his he could feel his nipples harden and as he inhaled her scent he became alarmed at the growing erection between his legs. If she was aware of this impertinence she didn’t show it and by now he was beginning to panic but unable to move and was mesmerised like a rabbit in headlights
“I hope you realise by now that I am a thoughtful and generous employer but one who demands high standards and unquestioning obedience.” she said quietly as she paused allowing him to respond.
He could only nod his agreement his mind busy trying to contain his growing erection.
“Good, now tell me exactly what your position is in my household.” she continued
“Houseboy Madam” he mumbled barely believing he uttered the word but not forgetting to address her properly.
“Houseboy, Housemaid there is really no difference I consider these terms interchangeable, the main thing is your accept that you are a servant is that not correct?” she said her voice still soft but now with a discernable firmness.
“Yes Madam” he said in a reverential tone, too nervous to correct her.
“And a maidservant’s employer is called her……?” she said allowing the question hang in the air while fixing him with her large violet eyes.
“Her mistress” he quietly replied remembering that his aunts’ insisted the housemaids referred to them in a similar fashion, he also recalled once overhearing them discuss how degrading it was. He now knew how they felt.
“Good. Now what exactly is my relationship to you in this house?” she asked him.
The idea of referring to this woman - any woman for that matter – in such an archaic way as Mistress was extremely demeaning but he had already acknowledged he was her servant and from what he already knew of her steely determination she would insist on establishing such protocol no matter how long it took, better to get it over with he conceded. He bowed his head in mortification as he murmured
“You are my mistress, Madam” his head spinning at his wretched admission.
“Stop mumbling girl. Louder.” she snapped the note of impatience quite clear in her voice.
“You are my mistress Madam” he said shamefully and with the sound of those contemptible words ringing in his ears he publicly accepted his new status as her servant and much as he wanted to correct her in addressing him as a girl didn’t think she was in any mood to hear him contradict her so he swallowed his pride, and not for the first time that evening.
“Excellent” she beamed her demeanour changing instantly and becoming almost friendly “I had hoped you would accept your new status with good grace much as you have accepted your new nightwear. Now we can join your sister housemaid for some refreshing cocoa.”
Frau Kirchen satisfied that the conversation was over turned on her four inch patent leather heels and made for the door.
Sister housemaid! he screamed inside, has this woman completely forgotten I’m a male?
He lifted the skirts of his pink satin quilted dressing gown and obediently followed his mistress.
Friday, June 13, 2014
I hadn’t intended to post another piece here as Rose & Jack and AW took such a long time to write but seeing as Rocket Dave and LG have contributed greatly in keeping the blog going I thought I’d make a contribution of sorts. This may not be to everyone’s taste, as we all know even within the narrow genre of CD/TV fiction people have so many different “hot buttons” as Bea refers to them, but if there’s sufficient interest then I’ll post some more if I can drag (no pun intended) myself away from the World Cup in Brazil.
As usual it would be interesting to read people’s views on it good or bad.
A Suitable Position.©
It had been an interesting if trying few weeks for Robert Kilcoyne, ever since sitting his first year college exams he’d spent most of the time travelling through Europe delighted to be away from the stifling atmosphere of the aunts that had raised him since the death of both parents several years previously. “Aunts” was quite a loose term as they were not related by blood rather they were his mother’s closest and dearest friends and as she considered them sisters from a very young age he always referred to them as Aunt Sophie and Aunt Amelia. They were kind but very protective not to mention quite strict and he found their constant attention very oppressive. After boarding school he had to fight long and hard to attend a university away from his home town and he relished the freedom it brought and was in no hurry to return to a cossetted home life with only his aunts and the domestic staff for company so he was very careful to plan this trip secretly and in fact only told them at the last minute. Naturally when he eventually did tell them it was not received well but that didn’t bother him too much as he was too excited and focused at the prospect of a summer free from women telling him what to do, what to wear, when to be home, always orders, orders, orders, it was so stifling.
He was enjoying his new found freedom but never spent too long in any one place as he’d wanted to experience as much as life had to offer after so many years of excessive supervision by his aunts. It was while travelling through the small principality of Katirinabourg in central Europe close to the border with southern Germany he found himself a little short of funds. He knew full well if he contacted his aunts for money from his considerable trust fund they would be hesitant to forward any amount beyond the fare home and was certain they would insist he return home immediately. He quickly realised he would have to find some a job of some sort to finance the rest of his vacation. Having a coffee in the small picturesque capital he noticed an advertisement in the local newspaper in bold lettering, “A Suitable Position” and below it in smaller print “for the right candidate.”
Apparently it was for a handyman of sorts and he was surprised that the ad was in English but figured that as the tourist season was still some way off he may have a good chance. It was too good a chance to pass up and immediately rang the number deciding it may be best to communicate in German one of the main languages spoken in the principality.
“Guten Tag Ich bin den job uber telefonieren” he said to the voice at the other end.
“The position is for an English speaker” the voice responded quite dismissively.
He quickly reverted to English and explained he thought it more polite to open the conversation in German, the female voice softened and after asking some cursory questions arranged an appointment for the following afternoon with the explicit instruction that all communication must be carried out through English, apparently the lady of the house wanted her staff to improve their English and he thought to himself who was he to argue?
At the appointed time Robert strolled up the driveway of a large Victorian house sitting in expansive grounds in an exclusive neighbourhood. The front door was opened by a blond girl in a grey maid’s uniform which didn’t really surprise him considering the size and location of the house.
“Hiya, my name is Robert Kilcoyne I have an interview for the handyman’s job with a Frau Kirchen.” he said in the cocky and slightly condescending voice he always used to people in service jobs.
“This way, Madam is in the drawing room.” the maid replied in slightly accented but flawless English.
She was an attractive girl, late twenties early thirties he guessed about five six maybe seven and while she wasn’t heavy she certainly wasn’t skinny either and had a more than ample bosom which he could see from the line under her uniform was held in place by a sturdy bra. He always liked big breasted girls and although he wasn’t at all confident with them he thought that a mere housemaid would no doubt fall for his charms. He followed the maid across a large hallway noticing her wonderfully rounded buttocks move in the tight fitting skirt of her uniform dress, as she walked ahead of him her hips swayed with each step in the glorious way that women are designed to do.
Yes, he thought, I really would like some of that.
“I didn’t realise people still worked as uniformed servants these days” he said as he walked alongside her. Of course he knew women of Frau Kirchen’s rank employed uniformed maids after all his aunts retained a number at their town house in London as well as their country estate. He was no stranger to servants and his remark was more to assert his status over this servant girl from the very start. Despite his lack of funds he quite enjoyed the ridiculous and ironic idea of a wealthy young man such as him becoming a handyman for a few weeks.
“Well perhaps you don’t realise either that sometimes people don’t have a choice what job they have to take” the maid replied acerbically, shooting him a sharp look for good measure.
Skivvy – he thought to himself but said nothing and followed in in silence.
She knocked on the drawing room door and entered.
“The person you were expecting Frau Kirchen” the maid said addressing what he thought a middle aged but very glamorous woman sitting on an antique couch. At first glance it was hard to put an age on her but there was no doubt he was very attractive despite her advanced years.
Maybe late thirties,early forties, he thought but couldn’t be sure.
“Madam!” Frau Kirchen said pointedly “Greta, I have told you numerous times, you must address me as Madam.”
“Yes Madam” the maid replied obviously embarrassed at being upbraided in front him, Robert thought.
“Are you not forgetting something else?” Frau Kirchen said.
A slight look of resentment came over the maid’s face as she grudgingly bobbed a quick curtsy, Robert caught her eye and gave her a contemptuous look as she rose.
“Very well you may go.” Frau Kirchen dismissed her.
“So difficult to get proper servants these days” Frau Kirchen said almost absentmindedly before turning to Robert “I require someone to do odd jobs, some basic maintenance and other duties as may be required in and around the house for several weeks or so and as the hours may be erratic the position is live in. I have some important and influential people visiting for time to time and it is vital that they receive the correct impression of a properly run household so you should know that I require total obedience and respect from my servants. Slovenliness, insubordination or impertinence will not be tolerated.”
Robert was taken aback at her tone and put it down to famed Germanic directness, no beating about the bush like the British or Irish. Rozamund Kirchen took a moment to look at the young man in front of her, he was the youngest of the men she had interviewed. She could tell that he was well educated unlike the other applicants several of whom were far too uncouth, he was of average height and though of slight build she concluded manual work should not be a problem. He was presentable enough although he seemed to hunch his shoulders somewhat, his shoulder length dark brown hair was reasonably well kempt and clean, and unlike the others he had no visible tattoos which she felt was totally unacceptable in a servant. She interviewed him for another few minutes to ascertain his suitability for the position and decided if he passed muster he may be of use. After satisfying herself she wrote a figure on a piece of paper and handed it to him and smiled to herself as she watched his eyes widen, his youth and inexperience could not hide his surprise as he took in the number.
She was right of course, the salary was more than generous, far more than he had imagined or expected, however coming from such a privileged background he baulked at the idea of being referred to as a servant – handyman had less servile connotations – however the money would more than compensate and living in he could save most of it knew immediately what he would use it for.
“If the salary is acceptable and you are willing to agree to my conditions the position is yours and once you sign this contract you can start immediately.” she said.
“The salary is more than acceptable Frau Kirchen.” he gushed and hurriedly signed the document she extended to him.
“Very well when we are finished Greta will show you to your room in the servants’ quarters and will make arrangements for your luggage to be delivered here.” she said.
The elation he felt at the substantial salary was now replaced by a feeling of humiliation at the sudden realisation that he was now being referred to as a servant and as if he needed confirmation his new employer added,
“Now that you are in my employ you will of course address me as Madam”
“Yes Madam” he said glad the maid wasn’t present to witness his embarrassment, his new employer continued.
“I have never employed a male servant before so I suppose a curtsy may not be appropriate, a bow of the head is I believe the usual display of respect from a male servant to his mistress, you will do so when entering and leaving a room and also when I speak to you. Is this clear?”
He looked at her almost disbelieving what he had just heard but remembering that she had reminded the maid to curtsy, he felt archaic as they were such gestures appeared to be a requirement of employees in this household. She held his glance and arched her eyebrows in that way women of a certain age or position do when they dare you to defy them.
“Do you have a problem with that? It is a requirement and a non-negotiable clause in your contract but if you feel it is beneath you and you wish to leave ,please do so now.” she finally said with more than a hint of impatience in her voice.
This shocked him into action, the thought of losing such a high salary and what he could do with it overrode the deepening unease he now felt at the idea of being referred to as a “male servant” but this was no time to argue the point.
“No Madam” he said as he bowed his head and felt a twinge of shame, he now understood the maid’s reluctance to curtsy- it was a humiliating experience- but, he thought, bad enough as having to bow was, a curtsy was somehow even more mortifying. He was glad he wasn’t a girl having to perform such a demeaning act.
“Much better, you must understand your salary is generous for a reason. I expect you to follow my orders to the letter- no hesitation whatsoever. Is that clear?”
He was acutely aware of her annoyance and didn’t want to stretch her patience any further.
“Yes Madam” he quickly said and added a bow for good measure.
She got up from behind the desk and walked towards him. The room was so quiet that he could hear a swishy sound as her panty hosed thighs rubbed together as she approached him, she was elegantly dressed in a navy blue knee length silk dress, her auburn hair was brushed into a chignon, a pearl choker with matching earrings gave her a regal look. She seemed to take a great interest in his clothes.
“Have you any suitable clothes a decent jacket, good trousers?” she asked as she fingered his well -worn leather jacket and looked at his jeans with obvious distaste.”
“Well not really I’m travelling light and all my clothes are very casual more for vacation than anything else. I wasn’t expecting to stay this long away.” he explained.
“Madam!” she said quietly as she looked directly into his eyes.
“Sorry.. Madam” he apologised.
“Please don’t forget, it’s very annoying having to remind servants to use the correct form of address to their mistress.” she said.
“Yes Madam, sorry Madam” he replied disgusted at himself for his servile attitude.
“You can wear those for outdoor work” she said gesturing to the clothes he was wearing “I suppose I can find you something for your house duties. One more thing, as I mentioned some very important and powerful people stay with me occasionally and naturally I wish to ensure their security and privacy so I must be sure that my servants are fully vetted. I will need your passport to make the necessary enquiries. Naturally you will receive it back after I have conducted these investigations. For security reasons this is also non-negotiable.”
He didn’t like the idea of handing over his passport but with the papers full of celebrity gossip he could understand it and who knows -maybe he might even meet someone famous. He knew he had nothing to hide so he handed her the passport which she placed in a desk drawer.
She picked up the bell on her desk and rang it twice, moments later Greta appeared.
“You rang Madam” she said and this time didn’t forget to curtsy.
“Greta, Robert here will be my new houseboy, please show him to his room in the servants’ quarters and make sure he familiarises himself with the rest of the house and its rules.”
“Yes Madam” and turning to Robert said “this way”
The word “houseboy” hit him like the slap of a wet cloth and he wanted to protest that he was applying for the position of handyman and not some lowly domestic servant like the maid standing next to him but before he could gather himself Frau Kirchen dismissed them both with a perfunctory
“You may go.”
Alone in the large hallway Greta turned to him with a smirk on her pretty face.
“Not so smug now, are we? Welcome to your new life as a domestic servant.” she sneered as she left him standing, mouth open at the door and made her way across the hallway.
“I’m not a domestic servant” he snapped hurrying after her as she went through a door behind the large staircase.
“Of course you are” she said as he caught up with her “I’m not exactly thrilled by the idea either but it’s what we are. I’m the housemaid and you’re the houseboy – just accept it.”
There was no way he was accepting this but felt any further protest would be just a waste of energy, as he followed her up the back stairs she continued,
“This is the back stairs that the servant’s use” she said ignoring his protestations “we only use the main stairs when either cleaning or bringing something to Madam or her guests. You must always use this stairs to access the servants’ quarters. Oh and another thing always address her as Madam and don’t forget to bow otherwise you get demerits leading to fines and punishments.”
“WHAT!” he said incredulously as he quickened his step to keep up with her “demerits, fines punishments?”
“It’s all in the contract, don’t tell me you didn’t read it before you signed.” she said.
“No” he replied suddenly feeling extremely foolish “I only saw the salary.”
“Of course you did” Greta said condescendingly “well you have little choice now I’m assuming she has your passport.”
“Yes” he said the implications of it handing over now dawning on him.
Robert was still trying to take this in when they arrived at the door of an annex at the back of the building. He followed her through to a large bright and airy living room very comfortably and tastefully furnished. As she showed around him the well -appointed and modern kitchen just off the living room she continued.
“Well it’s not as bad as all that and at least you’re getting extremely well paid but she is strict so you’re going to have to abide by the contract otherwise you could find yourself in trouble with the authorities. As she’s probably told you she has friends in very high places and not averse to using them…. as I know to my cost.”
“What do you mean?” Robert asked.
“Do you think I chose to be her maid? Having to wear this humiliating uniform? To be subject to her outdated rules and regulations? I was originally employed as her physiotherapist and after several months I wanted to leave but because there were still several months left on my contract she refused to release me. Well to make a very long story short she threatened to have her high powered legal team take me for everything and ruin my reputation plus she had my passport. There was a strong possibility I could have been arrested for breach of contract, the law here is a weighted in favour of the rich and powerful. As a punishment for attempting to break the contract I have to work the remainder of my time her as her uniformed maidservant.”
“So you reckon if I want to leave she will take an action against me?” he gasped realising the full seriousness of his situation.
“Believe me you really do not want to cross her” Greta said “and she has your passport. However she is honest and will pay you exactly what she agreed provided you honour your contract.”
“But she advertised the position as a handyman not a houseboy” he said.
“If she referred to you as a houseboy then that’s what’s on the contract and if you didn’t read it heaven knows what else is in there. There probably will be some stuff as a handyman but a lot of your work will be around the house. Another reason she pays so well is flexibility and like everything else it’s in the contract. Like I said- welcome to life as a domestic servant - better get used to it. Now let’s get you to your room and give me the details of where your luggage can be picked up as we’re not allowed leave without permission, the front gate is locked and as you noticed there is razor wire at the top. Oh! By the way if you challenge or displease her in any way you’ll receive demerits, break anything and you will be fined the value of the item so be careful.”
She could see by the look of shock on Robert’s face that her account of life in Frau Kirchen’s household had clearly taken him aback and knew it wouldn’t take long before the full realisation of what he had let himself in for would soon reach his idiotic male brain. She thought it wise to give him some counsel before he did something really stupid.
“Look it’s not all that bad you’re getting great money tax free, no overheads and once you’ve completed your contract you’ll get a large bonus and I mean a large bonus. As you can see this is a very luxurious place to live, and you can even have use of the pool when Madam is not using it. Now come on we need to get you settled. The reason for all the rules and regulations is exactly as she’s told you, she has some very powerful and wealthy friends and she doesn’t want to be embarrassed by her servants so she pays outrageous money for absolute obedience.”
He thought about it as he followed her and concluded maybe she was right after all there were a lot of pluses to the position and the money was great and now there’s talk of a large bonus. His thoughts were interrupted when she stopped at a door.
“This is your room” she said opening the door “I think you’ll find it quite comfortable.”
“But it says ‘Under-housemaid -Bedroom’” he croaked gazing at the painted sign on the door.
“So?” she asked failing to see the problem.
“Don’t you have another room I could use” he muttered horrified at the thought of staying in a girl’s….a maid’s room.
“No, up to now this has always been an all- female household so the rooms are allocated to female servants by their order in the household. As there are no houseboy rooms you’ll use the under-housemaid’s bedroom I’m down the hall in the head-housemaid’s room so technically I suppose I’m your immediate superior” she explained and noticing his mounting discomfort added with a sly smile “if you have a problem with that why not take it up with Madam?”
He hated the idea of every time he entered the room he would be reminded he’d be sleeping in a maid’s room the very notion was so degrading but he knew he would get nowhere arguing and shook his head in response. As he stepped inside the room his worst fears were confirmed- it was undoubtedly a girl’s bedroom. He was surprised at the size of the room which was much larger than he had expected. A queen size antique bed with mahogany head and footboard was covered by a baby blue satin quilt and large matching frilled pillows, a table and two comfortable chairs sat by the large window which looked out onto the extensive rear garden while a triptych dressing table and padded seat fitted neatly into the corner he couldn’t help noticing it was laden with bottles and jars of various sizes and colours. The ruffled faux silk curtains were tied back in a sweep emphasising the ultra- feminine nature of the room and he suddenly felt the same sense of oppressive femininity that he had been hoping to escape from back home. While away at college his aunts had redecorated his room in a not too dissimilar fashion which for him was the last straw in a seemingly constant battle to constrain his growing masculinity and had finally persuaded him that a summer away from their influence would be the best course of action. The irony of his new surroundings wasn’t lost on him.
Was there no escaping this creeping feminisation it seemed to be following him everywhere? he silently cursed to himself and he only half listened to Greta as she pointed out the various features in the room and insisted he accompany her to view the equally spacious en suite bathroom which he noticed was fully stocked with feminine lotions and creams.
“When your luggage arrives you can hang your clothes in here” she said pointing to the sizable closet.
“I won’t need that much space, I haven’t that many clothes.” he replied as she opened the door to allow him to inspect the interior.
“Probably just as well” she remarked as she viewed inside and tried to figure out how much space her new charge would require.
Robert had to stifle a groan as he was confronted with an array of dresses which from the style of Greta’s dress he took to be maids’ uniforms in black and grey, hanging from the rails alongside them on separate hangers were aprons of different styles. Stacked on the shelves were a number of matching white caps of various styles and on the shelves below that several pairs of shoes which he noticed matched the colour of the uniform dresses. She seemed unaware of his discomfort at the sight of the feminine garments that confronted him.
“I’ll see if I can make some extra space by combining the dresses and aprons, here hold these” she casually remarked as she removed a dress from the closet and handed it to him she then took an apron from its hanger.
“Now hold the dress up, no.. a little closer to your body I want to put this pinafore apron over it properly so it won’t be crumpled.” she instructed and became a little irritated when he hesitated. “Oh come on for heaven’s sake I haven’t all day”
The tone of her voice made unsettled him and he did as he was told although feeling decidedly uncomfortable as he did so.
“It won’t bite you it’s only a uniform, hold it closer to your body.” she snapped as he held it almost at arm’s length.
Reluctantly he complied as she drew the frilled apron over the sleeves of the dress and finally noticing his discomfort remarked somewhat mischievously
“Just your size”
He felt his face flush with a mixture of embarrassment and anger but felt she would tease him further if he said anything.
She repeated the process but this time seemed to notice something wrong with the stitching at the hem.
“Oh it’s badly torn, what was that stupid girl doing to cause this” she remarked and he took it that she was referring to the previous owner of the dress, the under-housemaid. She continued,
“I just hope there’s a dress dummy in the attic that I can hang it on as you can see I’ll need to pin it all round to repair it properly.”
Does she really think I give a shit about some stupid dress? he said to himself I just want her to stop yapping and leave me alone.
When she was satisfied at the extent of the repair work that was needed she finally allowed him to put down the dress while she removed more from the large closet and laid them on the bed.
“I’ve got something in the oven for our evening meal that I need to attend to and I need to phone for your belongings so you can make yourself useful by matching the aprons with the dresses like I’ve shown you. I expect Madam will be down later to see if you’re settling in properly so I want to make sure everything is in order.”
She gave him no time to answer as she turned on her heel and left him holding a maid’s dress and frilled apron. He was annoyed at the way she’d ordered him to do something so utterly demeaning as hanging a housemaid’s uniforms but her hasty departure denied him the opportunity to protest and he reluctantly did as he was told. Irritated as he was by her attitude he felt relieved he was alone as he could feel the embarrassment rise in his cheeks when he picked up the first dress and apron he did want anyone one witnessing his extreme discomfort as he went about his task. He was on his last uniform when she returned.
“Not bad” she chirped as she inspected his work “you may make a decent houseboy after all now come along let’s eat.”
He bristled once more at the term houseboy but as they’d already had that conversation he decided there was no merit in contradicting her again and apart from the episode with the uniforms she seemed pleasant enough. He followed her into the kitchen where he was met by the most delicious smell, sitting on the table was the source –a heavy earthenware dish with a golden crust, he hadn’t had a home cooked meal since he left England and he felt his mouth water at the prospect. She motioned him to sit and cut into the pie and handed him the plate. The magnificent aroma made him aware that he had not eaten that day and he wolfed the first few mouthfuls before he remembered his manners and gathered himself to thank her. His obvious gratitude pleased her and he thought perhaps he had been too hasty in judging her after all she was probably in a worse position than him. They had a pleasant conversation and seemed they had shared interests in music, books and art amongst other things maybe having to spend a few weeks here may not be all that bad, he’d stayed in worse places as his money ran low. The sound of the doorbell interrupted their chat and while Greta left the table to answer it he sat back with a second glass of a very fine Burgundy and considered his situation.
Frau Kirchen seemed to have some very strange ideas concerning her employees but from what he’d gleaned from Greta while she may be extremely demanding of those in her employ (he was loathe to even contemplate the word servant) it seemed she was extremely honest in honouring to the letter her side of the contract and expected the same from her hirelings. He reasoned that although the employment arrangements may be somewhat unorthodox the salary was extraordinary and he couldn’t deny the accommodation was very comfortable even if it was the under-housemaid’s room. During the meal Greta had also informed him of his duties and given him a list of chores in the garden which he was to tackle the following morning she’d also mentioned he would also be expected to help around the house. Perhaps it was the wine or maybe he was just coming to terms with his new surroundings but he was beginning to feel more relaxed about his situation when Greta returned carrying a rucksack.
“Your belongings have arrived” she snorted handing it to him “you certainly weren’t exaggerating when you said you hadn’t much by way of luggage. It makes no difference you can use the clothes you’re wearing for outside and if needs be I’m sure we can find something for you for inside work.”
Usually this would have caused an outburst from him but he thought it would be churlish to remonstrate with her after she had provided such a magnificent meal and the wine seemed to have contributed to his mellow mood so he took this news in his stride.
“Yeah we’ll work something out” he said causally.
“Now let’s get these cleared away it’s almost 9pm and time for Madam’s nightly inspection before you retire for the night.” Greta informed him.
He thought this a bit much as it was not yet 9pm and felt another glass or two of wine with Greta might lead to something.
“You’ve got to be joking? I rarely go to bed before mid-night and I doubt that I’ve been to bed at this time since I was a child.” he lied knowing full well his aunts insisted on a similar bedtime when he stayed at home.
“I wish I was but Madam has strict rules about bedtime for new servants. Her belief is that if servants are to perform to the highest standards then they must have adequate sleep which I suppose is hard to argue with. I know of several establishments where the mistresses treat their servants almost as slaves so it could be an awful lot worse and as I’ve already pointed out we don’t really have a choice. The contract and all that.”
Robert knew she was right of course as there had been several articles in the papers recently about house servants being treated abysmally by their employers however he couldn’t allow this to pass unchallenged.
“That’s’ ridiculous” he sniffed “I never heard anything so.. so…..”
“So what?” a voice from behind him interrupted him mid-sentence.