The Housekeeper, Chapter 26

[randomlygenerated]

I really hope you stop starting new stories and finish more stories before you make new ones.

You are a great writer and I don't mean to sound annoying, but it would definitely help with your overall delivery. Being split across so many stories diminishes all of them in a way. If you feel most comfortable finishing what you started then I don't suggest that you have to put any current ones on hold, but I really do think you should avoid starting new stories in the future if you are already writing so many others.

[Rawr112]

I agree. Waiting weeks for updates on a great story like housekeeper puts me off donating

[*Lady Lucia*]

Per the comment above, "The Housekeeper" is literally a commission. My commissions are updated once a month; end of story. Whether you pledge or not, you'll have to be patient.

--Lady Lucia

[*Lady Lucia*]

CHAPTER SIX

Jess

“Jessie, what the fuck are you doing?!” Hannah exclaimed.

What could I say to that? I was literally peeing in front of the rich blonde and all of her friends. Without any underwear on, as I was stuck going commando underneath the demeaning maid outfit, there was nowhere for the urine to go but the floor. A faint trickle quickly gave way to a nonstop stream, which was when Hannah realized what was going on and began yelling at me. “No- umm- I . . . ” I stammered. Every fiber of my being wanted to run away, but I couldn’t do that while peeing and I also couldn’t make myself stop.

Hannah seemed to have a similar idea in terms of what I should be doing. “Jessie, stop! Right now.”

“I- I can’t!” I exclaimed. It wasn’t until this mortifying release that I realized just how badly I had to go. Obviously I knew it was an emergency, but I had mostly been concerned with a squirt or two escaping when I wasn’t wearing anything to catch it. This was BAD. And, despite how much I didn’t want to be humiliating myself in such a way, I actually found myself slightly bending at the knees. It was a natural instinct, as going to the bathroom standing up didn’t work as well, and it clearly wasn’t helping me hold back.

“God, you’re pathetic,” she scoffed, “For fuck’s sake, Jessie. How old are you?? I told you to hold it.”

Cheeks turning crimson, I muttered. “You- you-” I was trying to get out ‘You didn’t listen!’ How many times had I told her that I needed to go?! But not only was there no excuse for a girl my age to be wetting myself, I also felt awkward about talking while I was going to the bathroom. Instead, I closed my eyes to shut the other girls out and prayed that this was all some horrible nightmare.

No such luck. It was at least a full minute of continuous peeing before I finally felt the flow begin to slow down. I should have gone to the bathroom when I arrived at the mansion, or before my shower. There had been too many surprises and distractions, and now I was paying the price. As I opened my eyes, seeing the predictable judgment and amusement on the faces of all the girls lounging in Hannah’s spacious living room, the one thing I hadn’t accounted for was the fact that all the teenage girls had phones. “No!” I exclaimed, gasping both at how many cameras were trained on me as well as how the puddle below expanded to nudge the sides of my feet at the same time. Jumping both away from the mess and from my blonde charge, I ignored the need to wipe both my feet and my crotch for a moment as I begged, “Don’t. Please delete those!”

Hannah just laughed. “You think you get to make demands? Please. Jessie, you just fucking pissed yourself in front of my friends. Putting aside the fact that you should really be potty trained by now, aren’t you a professional housekeeper? How do you think this makes me look?”

How it made her look? I was humiliated. Humiliated. And she was talking about her rich girl reputation? “Hannah-”

“No! Bad girl!” she snapped, “Until I say otherwise, your only vocabulary is ‘Yes, Hannah’ and ‘No, Hannah.’ Fuck it up, and the internet sees a fun new video about a slutty maid having an ‘accident.’ Do you understand?”

I was supposed to be her babysitter, and she literally just told me off like I was a dog. And yet, I just felt my blush deepen as I mumbled, “Yes, Hannah . . . ”

She and the other girls giggled at the immediate obedience, and perhaps also from what I had so recently done right in front of them. All I could do was tighten my lips and avert my gaze from the gaggle of girls staring at me. Being locked out of my room was one thing, but this fresh round of potential blackmail was something else entirely. A group of eighteen year old girls would be more than capable of finding me online. While my social media presence was limited and set to private, they could probably find enough friends and family if they put their mind to it. The maid outfit was awful enough, but I would absolutely die if anyone I knew saw what I just did. At least these girls were strangers, albeit strangers I’d have to see all summer.

“Stand still. Don’t move an inch.”

“Yes, Hannah.”

She whispered something to one of the girls, and that girl smiled and left the room. Then Hannah proceeded to have everyone else send their videos to her. She was conducting the whole process in front of me, but knew there wasn’t a damn thing I could do while she collected various angles of my mortifying experience. The blonde even made a point to loudly say, “Oh, good! You took pictures. We obviously have enough videos. Ooh, these turned out so well. You can see everything!” With that, she glanced up at me with a small smirk.

It wasn’t long before the girl that went off came back with an armful of things. The first things that caught my attention were the small bucket and the cleaning supplies. I was surprised she even knew where to find them, if these were all the types of girls who had maids and such. But then I noticed what was folded over her arm. It was one of my blouses! The pretty green one that I packed in case I needed to dress up slightly more than the casual tops I was planning on wearing most days as Hannah’s babysitter. Forgetting my directive, I blurted out, “Hey! That’s my-”

“JESSIE. BAD GIRL.” Hannah immediately cut me off, loudly admonishing me as she stood up and stormed over. Raising her hand like she was about to slap me across the face, she instead held her hand to the girl after being satisfied that she made me flinch. Taking my nice green outfit piece, Hannah offered it to me. “Wipe up your mess, Jessie. Right now.”

With- with my own blouse?! It wasn’t a rag; it was one of my more expensive outfit pieces. Obviously Hannah knew that her order was beyond insulting and insensitive, and I kept waiting for her to play it off like she wasn’t actually being serious. Except she never did. Her stern gaze and the silence that followed her words both lingered long enough for me to choose one of the only two phrases I was allowed. “No, Hannah?” It came out more as a question. I really didn’t want to ruin my pretty top, but I also wasn’t exactly in the best position to push back.

She knew so as well. Rather than yelling at me again, or threatening to do something with all the pictures and videos she collected, Hannah went in a direction I didn’t expect at all. Stepping forward with her lips pursed in a small smile, she reached under my too-short skirt with no warning whatsoever. Using my blouse, she gave a quick wipe between my thighs.

My eyes widened at the invasion, but Hannah was already pulling away and speaking before I could say something about her audacity. “There,” she said, holding up my nice green top so I could see the bit of wetness from how it had more or less been used as toilet paper. “It’s already dirty. Now hurry up and clean my floor before it gets stained with your piss.”

It was the second time she had used the more crass term, and I slightly flinched at both the word and the fresh reminder of my recent mortifying experience. That, and I was more on back foot than ever now that Hannah had gotten further than any guy had in terms of touching me. There was nothing remotely sexual to the way Hannah had wiped me, and her hand didn’t actually make contact with anything, but she had still gone under my skirt for a second. Not technically a ‘first,’ but enough that my virgin self was a little offended at the violation.

And, of course, she had waited until I wasn’t allowed to speak. I so badly wanted to tell her off, but I couldn’t. Not after wetting myself, and wearing what I was wearing, and being stuck as more ‘maid’ than ‘housekeeper’ until I could contact Hannah’s parents and sort out this mix-up.

I was supposed to be her BABYSITTER. Instead, my authority was absolutely nonexistent at this point.

“Well?” Hannah said. She extended her arm, pushing the slightly dirtied top into one of my hands. “If I have to ask again, you’re going to be doing it on your hands and knees.”

At that, I got moving. Blushing more deeply, if that were possible, I took my blouse and murmured, “Yes, Hannah . . . ”


I squatted down to get started, praying that the skirt wasn’t riding up too much on either side, belatedly realizing that the angle and balance was too awkward to efficiently clean. Shifting to place one knee on the hard floor, I reluctantly bunched up the nice top and used it to soak up as much of the puddle as I could while keeping my hands clean. It’s not like the blouse would be ruined, as long as I could get it into the washer as soon as possible, but that didn’t change the humiliation that came with using my nice outfit piece as a rag.

The girl who had returned with the cleaning supplies stepped forward and opened a trash bag at Hannah’s request. I carefully placed the soaked top into the bag, suddenly nervous that the bag would simply be thrown away. “I can take that to the laundry room,” I quietly offered. In a way, I was actually leaning into the maid image in the name of protecting my blouse.

“You’re not done yet, Jessie,” Hannah said.

Just like that, one of my skirts was dropped in front of me, followed by a few tank tops. All I had wanted was my own clothes. Changing out of the slutty maid uniform had been such a high priority, and it wasn’t lost on me that I could have combined the skirt, blouse, and one of the tank tops for a decent outfit. Instead, I proceeded to wipe up the rest of the gross wetness with my skirt and then took the cleaning supplies and used the tank tops as rags to scrub and then dry the floor. Each article of clothing made its way into the trash bag, but I knew better than to speak up again.

It didn’t help that all the attention was still on me. The room was mostly quiet, save for those hushed teenage comments and bits of muffled laughter here and there. I kept my gaze on the floor the whole time, unable to bear the thought of literally everyone staring at me as I not only served as a maid, but worked to clean up a mortifying mess I had just made in front of all of them.

The moment I was done, standing while holding my skirt in an attempt to keep it as far down my thighs as possible, Hannah spoke up. “Well, virgin, I’ve personally had quite enough of you for one afternoon. Bring us a fresh round of drinks, and then go water everything in the garden. When you’re done, clean up this room and finish what you started in the kitchen. We’ll probably be in the basement. The second you’ve finished all that, you are to come down and inform me. Got all that?”

I was stunned and embarrassed right away as the blonde so casually addressed me as ‘virgin,’ but she moved on too quickly for me to respond or even for me to dwell on it. Drinks, garden, living room, kitchen. Fully a maid, not even remotely a babysitter. And there was even less to do about it than before. Publicly wetting myself just added to the impossible dynamic I found myself stuck in without being able to call Hannah’s parents or talk to the girl without her friends around.

“Yes, Hannah.” It was all I could think to say. As much as I loathed being so subservient, there was the small silver lining that this would finally give me some space away from her and the girls. After what I just did in front of them, I needed that space way more than I needed it before.

At this point, I had resigned myself to the fact that the girls were going to be drinking whether I liked it or not. I had already refilled their glasses plenty of times, and supplied new cans to those that were drinking beer or seltzer. One more trip was nothing if it meant that I wouldn’t have to deal with any of them for a while. Still, that didn’t change the fact that it was wrong on multiple levels; allowing it in the first place, and then giving drinks with my own hand. But I did it. And, after topping everyone off, I retreated outside before Hannah could change her mind.

It wasn’t until I reached the edge of the pool area that I realized that being barefoot wasn’t ideal for the impending job. While the extensive garden had a main path, watering everything would require walking through a ton of grass and other uneven surfaces. I would have to be thorough, as Hannah’s parents would kill me if their beautiful landscape was ruined. Although was I even responsible for outside? My list of housekeeping responsibilities was as unreachable as everything else was thanks to how I was locked out of my own room. Plus it wasn’t even about her parents at the moment. For all intents and purposes, I was Hannah’s maid/housekeeper rather than her parents’ housekeeper/babysitter.

Watering everything took forever. My steps were awkward and hesitant wherever I went. The cement paths were hot on my feet from the afternoon sun, the grass was itchy, and the other paths required careful advances to avoid stepping on any sharp or awkward rocks. Also, I didn’t want to get burned. Taking shade breaks prolonged my exposure, but didn’t help with how hot it was. While the maid outfit was plenty skimpy, it was still a bit much to be wearing in the summer sun. I almost wished for my bikini from earlier. I had showered so recently, but the effects were quickly being undone as I felt myself sweating along the way. Watering wasn’t even that active of a job, but the heat still took its toll. And, finally, the garden was huge. While the hose was probably the best money could buy, with great water pressure coming from the faucet, I still had to thoroughly hit every single plant.

The job soured my solitude a bit, but it was still nice to be alone for so long. I had hoped that the separation from Hannah would give me time to think, but I couldn’t come up with a single way out of the mess I was in. Provided her friends left, and it was just the two of us, I’d still be dressed like I was without access to any of my belongings. Would coming clean about the babysitter thing at that point make a difference? I was in no position to be taken seriously, and had no way of contacting her parents. How was I going to wrestle back control when she was holding all the cards? And it was going to be nearly impossible to come back from having an accident in the middle of the living room.

Ugh, I was so fucked! For the second time that day, I considered the idea of simply quitting and driving away. Of course, the first time the idea crossed my mind was when I was under the impression that I would be able to return to my room and collect my things. Now? I didn’t think Hannah would necessarily force me to stay against my will, but she would certainly have her fun before letting me go. How much would I have to beg before being granted my things? I could already see her smirk as she made me dance for what was already supposed to be mine.

Also, I really did need this job. Nothing else I had looked at for the summer came remotely close to what Hannah’s parents were paying me. Somehow, I needed to figure this out. There was no way I could stomach being an obedient little maid for six weeks. It was humiliating, especially when she was the one who was supposed to be listening to me. For now, however, I just needed to make it through the day.

After finishing up with the garden, and praying that this wouldn’t be an everyday task her parents had assigned to me, I headed back inside after using the pool to rinse off my feet. While the air conditioning was instantly refreshing, as well as the quiet of the main floor in contrast to the laughter of drunk girls from before, the disaster of the kitchen and living room had me sighing in frustration nonetheless.

I had barely survived half a day of Hannah, and I had well over a month with her to go. For now, it was very much a ‘one step at a time’ mentality. So, despite my distaste of serving as her maid, I took a deep breath and got started with the next round of chores.

[randomlygenerated]

I agree. Waiting weeks for updates on a great story like housekeeper puts me off donating

I'm not that harsh. The stories I like are still really good quality and I recognize both how hard writing is as well as how much different ideas can pull at a person. But it's also still just annoying regardless of whether I understand it or not.

Though the minimum pledge is pretty low. I'm also subbed to another writer for about the same who pretty much only does 1 story and only updates it once or twice a month and it's still fine.

Anyway, in conclusion it's about perspective and all that.

Per the comment above, "The Housekeeper" is literally a commission. My commissions are updated once a month; end of story. Whether you pledge or not, you'll have to be patient.

--Lady Lucia

I mean, that's fine and all, but it's just a general comment and not really particular to this story or anything.

[Rawr112]

Yup I think Lucia is a great writer as well, but maybe doesn’t like feedback. I would much rather see 1-2 completed stories than a range of unfinished and very slow developments on 12 stories.

[*Lady Lucia*]

[Risk of starting drama. Viredae, absolutely feel free to come in and wipe the chain of comments here if you'd like.]

I get all kinds of feedback, and appreciate most of it. But the kinds of comments you make on this board, Rawr112? Whether it's my stories or on other writers' works on here, I'm not the biggest fan of the negative/toxic approach that you take.

Zooming out, however, the reason that I don't often publicly reply to stuff is because I like my stories to stand by themselves. Everyone else is welcome to comment, question, criticize, discuss, etc. I just don't partake, because that's not the kind of writer I'm trying to be. If you want to understand XYZ, randomlygenerated--or anyone else--feel free to send me a private message, preferably through the address on my website. I chat with plenty of readers about plenty of things, as perhaps a couple people that visit this site can attest to. However, I don't want to pull attention from a story by diving into my process as a writer. Perhaps I'll make a blog post about it one of these days.

Long story short, know that I see pretty much every comment on every board I post to. And then I move on. If you want a conversation, reach out. Otherwise, my writing will be the next thing that follows said comments, because that's the approach I've decided to take as an author.

Respectfully,

Lady Lucia

[Rawr112]

If you’re getting your back up about my comments (I’m just direct, you know what you get; I realise how fragile egos are but don’t care) can you address randomlygenerated’s comments then? You have 1 zillion stories and people are interested in seeing them through not seeing more started.

[shmeckle]

If you’re getting your back up about my comments (I’m just direct, you know what you get; I realise how fragile egos are but don’t care) ...

Very good; admitting you're an asshole is the first step toward real change.

Speak for yourself about what her readers are interested in. I'm avidly following 4 of her stories (and yes I support her on Patreon). Every few days one of them gets updated and I'm happy. Complaining about anyone who posts their stories here not doing it the way you want seems kind of whiny and entitled.

I'm following a story on another website. The author is only writing one story. First they posted weekly, then monthly, then twice a year. The story hasn't had a substantial update in over a year now, but I'm waiting patiently for it to continue. Finding a good writer that does regular updates on multiple stories is fantastic.

[randomlygenerated]

If you’re getting your back up about my comments (I’m just direct, you know what you get; I realise how fragile egos are but don’t care) can you address randomlygenerated’s comments then? You have 1 zillion stories and people are interested in seeing them through not seeing more started.

I don't need or want you on the offensive on my behalf.

I gave my feedback. She isn't required to follow it like it's the word of God nor does there have to be an extended argument about it. Just let it go. You're way too agitated over nothing.