Maid to Order (3 page)

The only building I could see was the hotel: a central whitewashed block three stories tall between a sprawl of single-storey wooden terraces, joined together by walkways, which continued to a line of chalets half hidden among the trees by a field. There had to be fifty or sixty rooms, and I could see that cleaning them was going to be a nightmare, never mind what else I might be expected to do; waitressing perhaps, bar work, laundry, and all the tedious jobs I’d worked so hard until now to avoid.

Danielle had seemed reluctant to get out of the car, but finally did so, joining us at the edge of the cliff. ‘Hadn’t we better be on our way, Jeremy darling?’

‘There’s no rush,’ he answered, glancing at his watch. ‘I could do with a coffee, and don’t you want to say hello to your uncle?’

‘I don’t think he’s here today, and it’s a long way home.’ She sounded more nervous than ever, making me wonder what was going on, but Dad started towards the hotel and she had little choice but to follow. It was warm and she was showing off as usual, in a crop-top with little red shorts that left half her bum showing, sandals, and sunglasses pushed back on her head. Seeing her like that made me wonder if she got spanked, maybe by Morris himself, and if so, how I could find out for certain and turn the tables on her. No doubt she knew that was a risk, which seemed to be another good reason for shutting me away, only it wasn’t.

It wasn’t because I’d met the man who was now walking towards us, beaming cheerfully as he embraced Danielle and then Summer, shook hands with Dad and favoured me with a knowing smirk. Shorter than me by at least two inches, but maybe twice my weight, his pear-shaped body topped by a head like a Halloween pumpkin decorated with a thick beanfeaster moustache, he was unmistakable: Mr Hegedus. Who I’d last seen tugging at a thick brown-skinned penis while begging me to take my knickers down so that he could get off over my bare bum instead of the panty show I’d promised him.

‘Ah, Danielle, but it’s been too long since you last saw your old uncle Vilmos, and you too, Summer. And Mr Bassington-Smyth, it is an honour to meet you, sir. And this must be Jemima, who will be working for us? What a pretty girl. Wonderful, wonderful.’

He recognised me, he had to, even though I was the wrong way round, but he gave no sign of it whatsoever. Danielle did, throwing me a look compounded of panic and threat as Dad walked forward. I ignored her, but I was trying to work out what it might mean if Mr Hegedus was her uncle and I was quickly coming to some extremely interesting conclusions. He had to have told her about me, for one thing, which suggested a very odd conversation for an uncle to be having with his niece. It also suggested that he was the driving force behind my being offered the job, and if that was true I was back in the driving seat.

‘We are delighted to train Jemima,’ he was saying as he led the way inside, his Eastern European accent now faint as he did his best to play the respectable hotel manager.

It had been a very different tone of voice before, so thick with excitement that I’d barely been able to understand him, as he begged me to show off for him. He’d tipped well too. So desperate was he to get his schoolgirl strip and panty show, he’d hardly been able to count out the notes as he passed them over. I’d stuck them in my stocking top, so that he could see what he’d paid as I danced for him and had it right in his face as I peeled down my knickers with him wanking dementedly as his chubby little cock.

He was very friendly, offering us drinks and a tour of the hotel, while Danielle constantly and desperately tried to find excuses to leave. I was sure he knew exactly what was going on, because his moustache kept twitching into a half smile, but Dad played his unconscious part superbly, accepting everything as Danielle squirmed in discomfort, while she’d obviously been hoping they wouldn’t meet. Not that she had anything to worry about, because the last thing he was going to do was tell his new maid’s father what he had in mind for her, and that was very clear. I wasn’t worried, because I knew I could handle him, but there was going to have to be some negotiation.

We got the grand tour, at least of the main building, and I was introduced to two of my fellow staff: Chris, the barman, and Stefan, the head waiter. Chris didn’t look more than twenty. He was in a smart blue uniform, but still managed to seem casual with his mop of sandy-coloured hair and a companionable smile. Stefan was older and had cropped his hair to hide advancing baldness, giving him a sinister look, menacing even. I could easily imagine him as a spanker, but Chris looked strictly vanilla. I was sure I’d find out, if I wanted to, because I seemed to be the only girl around, leading me to ask Mr Hegedus a cautious question. ‘There’s somebody to do the cleaning and stuff, isn’t there?’

‘All that is on contract with a firm from Eastbourne. It’s more efficient. You’ll do a little, though, in between assisting myself and my staff.’

We were going to have to see about that, but I simply nodded. Danielle was looking at her watch again.

‘We really should be getting back, Jeremy darling.’

‘Well, yes, I suppose we had better make a start.’

He swallowed what remained of his coffee and kissed me.

‘Be good, Jem. Or if you can’t be good, be careful.’

It was one of those embarrassing things he’d been saying to me and Pippa since we turned teenagers, but he had no idea. I smiled and hugged him, feeling a little homesick as Danielle hurried him out to the car to leave me standing under the porch with Mr Hegedus. There was nobody else about and it seemed sensible to sort out where I stood as quickly as possible, so I swallowed my feelings and asked him a straight question.

‘I suppose you expect to spank me?’

He was taken aback, but only for a second. ‘Yes, yes, why not? Each day I will inspect your work. If it is not good enough, hot botty for baby, yes?’

He’d used the same infantile phrase at Morris’s party. At the time I’d been just about to go over Melody’s knee and he’d really brought home the situation I was in, making me blush. I found my cheeks colouring again, but rallied quickly.

‘Oh no you don’t. If you want me over your knee then I don’t have to work, and that’s that.’

‘Not possible. I pay. You work. And maybe a little something extra if you are a good girl.’

‘You’re a dirty old pervert, do you know that?’

‘Why a pervert? You are a beautiful girl. I am a man. I like to see beautiful girls bare naked.’

‘You like to spank them,’ I replied, not certain if he knew I liked it, but fairly sure he thought I’d only take it from him in return for something.

He merely shrugged, indifferent, and I went on. ‘And if you expect to spank me it’s going to be on my terms. I get a nice room, I come and go as I please and nobody gets to tell me what to do. For that you get to spank me once a week.’

‘Impossible! You have a good room, yes, but you must work like all the others and for the right wage, which is not my business.’

‘Oh? Whose business is it then?’

‘The owner. Mr Rathwell.’

‘Morris owns the hotel!?’

‘Yes, and you must do your work. Any extra you want to earn, well then ...’

He patted my bottom, although his shifty expression made it very clear what he meant anyway, but I wasn’t finished.

‘OK, so Morris is the big boss and I guess I’ll have to talk to him about my wages and stuff, but you and I can come to a little private arrangement, can’t we? I don’t mind helping with the bar and waitressing, but no toilets or scrubbing the floor or anything like that, OK? Promise me that and maybe, just maybe, I’ll give you a panty show like I did before. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’

He was going red in the face and I thought I’d won, only for him to shake his head. ‘Yes, I love your panty show, but you must work, or what will Mrs Hegedus think? She will think we are ...’ He made a rude sign, sticking one finger though a circle made with the other hand, which was far further than I intended going, but that wasn’t the problem.

‘Mrs Hegedus? I didn’t know you were married?’

‘Oh yes. Here my wife cooks. Harriet kitten, come and meet Jemima, our new maid.’

He’d turned to look back into the hotel and I did the same, to find the biggest woman I had ever seen advancing on us. She had a face like a pudding, and it was set in a suspicious frown, as if she’d heard every word we’d said. My hands went to protect my bottom by instinct, and just to look at her made me feel weak. She was vast, taller than me and enormously fat, with her massive hips and thighs, her great, bulging belly and colossal breasts straining the white cook’s coat in every direction. It wasn’t all fat though; she had the shoulders of a wrestler and the arms to match. I gave her my sweetest smile. ‘Pleased to meet you, Mrs Hegedus ... er, Harriet.’

‘Mrs Hegedus will do,’ she answered. ‘So you’re the new maid? Good. You look the part.’

She sounded sarcastic. I couldn’t think why, or what to say, but Mr Hegedus took over, his voice wheedling. ‘Mr Rathwell chose her specially.’

Her answer was a sceptical grunt. ‘Well you just mind where you put your hands, Vilmos Hegedus.’

He smiled and laughed, but only succeeded in looking and sounding guilty. ‘I have eyes only for you, my kitten,’ he assured her.

She gave another grunt. ‘How many covers tonight, and what fish did you get?’

They began to discuss hotel matters and I waited politely while I struggled to make sense of what was going on. From what had been said it was Morris himself who’d suggested I be hired. He’d told Mr Hegedus, who in turn had told Danielle, and yet nothing had been said at the last party. Yet Morris was a businessman. He moved fast and was always looking for new opportunities, both to make money and indulge his penchant for humiliating girls, preferably both at the same time. I was caught up in something and I didn’t mind all that much, but I did need to speak to him.

‘... and there is only one lobster,’ Mrs Hegedus finished, as if making a threat, and turned away.

I found my gaze following her in horrified fascination, hypnotised by the roll of her monstrous buttocks beneath her coat. Mr Hegedus gave me a sad look. ‘You see, you must work, but still, maybe, now and then, it will be hot botty for baby all the same, yes?’ He gave me a slow wink and his eyes flickered down to my hips before he went on. ‘You are in chalet nine, up the hill. Morris ... Mr Rathwell says to put you there. Your uniforms are on the bed. Would you like a hand with your cases perhaps?’

I’d only brought two, both the wheelie sort, and I could tell what he was up to, hoping I’d let him watch me change. Judging by the expression in his eyes and the way his fat, pink tongue flicked out to moisten his lips, he might as well have just come right out with it.

‘Yes, thank you,’ I replied.

I wasn’t really in the mood for giving him a show, but he was my boss and it would pay to be on the right side of him. Then again, I very definitely didn’t want to be on the wrong side of his wife, who already seemed to have her suspicions. I decided to tease instead, and hope I could keep him under control that way, so I deliberately walked ahead, allowing him to admire the shape of my bum in my jeans as we crossed the reception area. There was a door on the far side that led towards the chalets, but it was opposite the one leading into the kitchen and as I pushed it open we were brought up short by a roar.

‘She can do that on her own, Vilmos Hegedus! You can take out the bins for me.’

He winced. ‘Yes, my kitten.’

I took over the cases, hauled them through the door and away down a glass-roofed terrace set with cast iron tables overlooking the sea. The door at the end led to a corridor with rooms to one side and windows to the other, which led in turn to a walkway connecting the line of chalets. Mine was the furthest away of all; a fair way up the hill and sheltered beneath the last of the trees. It was rather nice, with a bathroom and even a tiny kitchen, while the bed was a big, soft king-size with a fluffy coverlet on which were laid out three uniforms.

Two were exactly the same smart dark blue maid’s uniforms, knee-length with a white collar and white trim on the sleeves, rather boring really. The third was very different, and had obviously designed by a dirty old man; in black satin with a skirt so short it obviously wasn’t going to cover my knickers and lacing down the front of the bodice, which was so low cut that what little I had would be in danger of spilling out. There were accessories too: stockings, suspenders, black high-heels, a layered underskirt and a hideous pair of froufrou panties, as big as gym knickers with a dozen layers of see-through lace at the back.

‘Perverts.’

I’d spoken to myself, but I’d have said it to Morris’s face. He’d have laughed. Mr Hegedus I wasn’t so sure of, as he seemed to take himself rather more seriously and had immediately grown defensive when I’d called him a dirty old man. That was what he was though, and Morris, and all the other men who like girls done up in tarty uniforms and naughty lingerie and weird outfits. It’s fun though, and at least with men like that I don’t have to pretend I’m something I’m not.

Nobody had told me which uniform to put on, but when Mr Hegedus was talking to his wife they’d mentioned a wedding party that evening and I didn’t imagine they’d want me strutting about with my knickers on show. There was no rush though, and as I stripped off for the shower I was growing increasingly tempted to try the naughty one on first.