My Red Maid

The estate was palatial, sitting on the edge of the cliffs, overlooking the vast Pacific Ocean. I swerved my way through the curves leading to the family estate, top down, wind flapping my shirt collar. Father would not have approved. He always hated my driving from the day I got my license, but those days are long gone. Now, the estate is mine as well as the family business and the fortune its operation have acquired. He is still around mind you, he has just hung out the gone fishing sign and tossed me the keys to everything that mattered. I can live with that.

Walking through the front door, I was greeted by the sounds of gunfire. I considered dodging for cover, but then I realized it was only the television. The quality of my father’s sound system is indisputably the best available and the surround sound feature really makes it like you are actually there. In the television room, I found Elaine, our housemaid, feet up on the sofa, enjoying John Wayne on the 80 inch plasma. I sat on the arm of the sofa and waited for her to realize she was not alone.

“Shit Jacob,” She said, propping herself up, “When the fuck did you get in?”

“You wouldn’t need to ask if you were doing your chores instead of fantasizing about Johnny,” I said.

“If you were half the man he was, I wouldn’t need to,” She said.

“Do the chores or fantasize?” I asked.

“Both,” She said, “I’m sure he was enough of a man to do his own chores and take care of a woman properly.”

“I’m sure he was, but I don’t recall you being my woman,” I said, “and you’re paid to do the chores.”

“Two grand a night and I’m all yours,” She said, with a wink.

“Not even if you looked like Julia Roberts,” I said.

“Yeah, I can’t figure why Richard Gere needed to pay for it anyway and worse, why he would go for skank like her,” Elaine said. “Hell, I would have paid him.”

“You couldn’t have paid him enough to look your direction, let alone spend a day with you,” I said, “Especially since you don’t like to work.”

“I like work just fine,” She said, “as long as other people are doing it.”

“How on earth did you convince my father to keep you around all these years?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” She said, giggling.

“Probably not, but you do realize he is no longer running things,” I said.

She sighed saying, “Yes, and now you’ve finally got your chance to make your mark. Are you going to start by firing me?”

“Maybe lighting a fire under your backside, but I think I’ll keep you around for now, unless you’d rather not work for me,” I said.

“That depends,” She said. “Are we still going to be friends or are you going to turn into an asshole like your father?”

I shook my head and said, “That depends, are you going to be friendly when I ask you to do your work?”

“Hell no,” She said. “You’ve known me long enough to know that.”

I laughed, “That’s what I thought.”

The phone rang. Crossing the floor to answer it, I said, “Maybe you could at least pretend to do some chores.”

“What’s the fucking point?” She asked, shutting the television off and stretching.

I answered the phone and Elaine left the room, heading off for parts unknown. It was easy to pretend she was going to do some work, but I knew better. On the other end of the phone, my administrative assistant filled me in on a brewing client crisis my father had decided to ignore or dump in my lap, or both. Either way it meant leaving for the office and possibly a trip across the country before nightfall. Hanging up, I went in search of Elaine.

She was standing on the staircase, holding a feather duster in one hand and her nose in the other. I laughed at the cloud surrounding her head and she stuck her tongue out at me. That she started coughing a moment later only increased my laughter and her displeasure, seemed entirely appropriate. Apparently, she disagreed.

“It’s not fucking funny,” She said, gagging on dust.

“No, but it is funny,” I said.

“Ha ha,” She said.

I said, “See, even you agree.”

“Bite me,” She said, cocking her head to the side.

“Maybe later,” I said, heading toward the entry. “I have to go back to the office and I might need to take a trip tonight. Please take care of my laundry and prepare an overnight bag for me.”

“I’ll think about it,” She said, as I walked out the door. “Have fun.”

My business meeting went smoother than expected and I returned to the estate a mere three hours later with no need to venture off on a business trip. Elaine was relaxing in the lounge with a friend of hers from the local area. Neither bothered to get up when I entered the room, nor temper their conversation. I suspect they expected me to leave them in privacy, after all it is only my family’s residence. Why would I think I had free reign of it?

Elaine said, “You wouldn’t fucking believe it. I was coughing and wheezing for an hour. No shitting. I must be fucking allergic to dust and he just thought it was fucking hilarious.”

Her friend said, “Damn, what an a-hole. I can’t figure these rich fuckers anyhow. I mean what the fuck, they can’t clean their own house? How fucking lazy do they have to be?”

“Good evening, ladies,” I said, although by the sounds of things there were none in the room.

Elaine said, “Shit Jacob! How long you been standing there?”

“Just got back,” I said. “I see you’re making yourself right at home.”

Her friend said, “Hell yeah. Your place is the shit.”

I glanced at the floor hoping I misunderstood. “I tend to think of it as a little better than a local dung heap,” I said.

“Right on,” Her friend said, “That place don’t have half as good of liquor as what you got here.”

“Yes, but they have much larger flies,” I said.

“Dude, you’re funny,” Her friend said.

“I’ll be here all week,” I said. “The question is, will you?”

Elaine said, “I thought you were going on a trip.”

“I was able to step aside and avoid stumbling,” I said.

“Huh?” Elaine said.

“I’ll be staying in town,” I said.

“So like, I have the place to myself?” Elaine asked.

I shook my head, “I’m staying,” I said.

“Why didn’t you just say so?” Elaine asked.

I said, “I thought I did.”

“He’s just like his fucking father,” Elaine said to her friend, “always complicating things that don’t need to be.”

Her friend said, “Toss back a tall one, dude. Then you’ll be seeing how simple the shit life really is.”

“Silly me, I’ve always aimed a bit higher than the shit pile,” I said.

“You got to relax,” Her friend said, “Great expectations just lead to great disappointments.”

“Whatever you say,” I said nodding to them, “I’m going to retire for the evening. Goodnight.”

“Later, dude,” Her friend said, and Elaine raised her empty glass to me as I backed out of the room.

I walked off, heading up the stairs to my private suite. Inside, I found my bed piled three feet high with my laundry. The sheets were rolled down to the foot of the bed and hanging down to the floor. I considered taking a picture, after all it was a sight you do not see every day. On closer inspection, it became obvious the clothes were at least washed, but the wrinkles alone would almost negate the fact. I headed back down to the lounge.

“Dude,” I said to Elaine’s friend, “I think it’s time for you to ship out.”

“But there’s still an unopened bottle of scotch,” Her friend said.

I said, “Elaine, we need to talk and I doubt you want an audience.”

She looked up at me and shrugged, saying “Whatever. Head off. I’ll catch you later okay?”

Her friend looked between us and said, “Sure, whatever.”

With her friend gone, Elaine started closing up bottles and straightening the mess they had made. I said, “I thought I asked you to take care of my laundry today.”

She said, “Yeah and I told you I’d think about it.”

“You’re the maid,” I said.

“You’re very observant,” She said.

“You’re supposed to do the laundry without my asking,” I said.

“That’s the problem,” She said, “You messed everything up cause you had to ask.”

“So, if I hadn’t said anything you would have done it?” I asked.

She said, “I did do it. It’s all on your bed.”

“I noticed, it looks like you took a lot of time to pile it up as high as you could,” I said.

She smiled and said, “You noticed my effort? I’m impressed.”

“I’m not,” I said. “You’re going to go up there right this minute, iron everything perfect and put it away like you should have done hours ago.”

“I will not,” She said. “It’s after my work hours. I’m going to bed.”

“You’re a live-in maid, you don’t have after hours,” I said.

“I think the labor board would disagree with you,” She said.

I said, “There’s a much closer board that won’t agree with you.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” She said.

I said, “Not only would I, but I will if you don’t get your sassy tail up to my room this minute.”

She said, “I’m not that kind of maid.”

“You’re not any kind of maid from what I’ve seen,” I said.

“Now that’s just rude, I expect an apology if you expect me to do any more work ever,” She said.

I sat down on the sofa and said, “You can either get over my knee or get out of my house.”

She said, “In your dreams.”

“It is my house and you will do one or the other this instant,” I said snapping my fingers at her.

“Make me!” She said.

“You asked for it,” I said, grabbing her arm pulling her over my lap.

She squealed from the very first slap of my hand. When I slipped my fingers in her her pant waist and eased them down, she squealed even louder. I smacked her red pantied bottom and she kicked and squirmed like the overgrown brat she was. My hand enjoyed the silkiness of her underwear, but I realized only a bare bottom spanking would have the desire effect.

Pulling her panties down, I said, “I like this red on your bottom. I think I’ll have to apply it directly though.”

“Stop it!” She screamed, kicking her legs, “What are you doing, you sick bastard?”

“I’m giving you the spanking you so richly deserve,” I said, reapplying my swinging hand to her bottom.

The room echoed with the clapping of my hand with bottom. Elaine provided a constant rhythm of thumping with her toes kicking the floor and a melody of squeaks, reminiscent of fairy tale birds singing. If it weren’t for the occasional curse word flying out of her mouth, I could have imagined I was spanking a poor princess. Why did they not make good cartoons like that showing all the young men how to handle their princesses? Oh well, live and learn, I suppose.

I kept up the walloping until her legs tired of kicking and then said, “Are you ready to put yourself over my lap for a proper spanking now?”

“I can’t take anymore,” Elaine said, sobbing.

“You could always leave,” I said, “but if you do, you will not be welcome back.”

“You’re a real bastard,” She said.

“I cannot control what you think of me, but while in my employ, you will keep your opinions to yourself unless I ask for them,” I said.

“Or what?” She said, twisting to look up at me.

“Or you’ll find yourself in this position more often,” I said.

“Fine,” She said, “I’ll take care of your laundry.”

I nodded and said, “I thought you might see things my way. Now stand up.”

Patting her bottom one more time, I released my hold on her and helped her climb to her feet. Her bottom was a mere pink, several shades lighter than her red panties, but the blush on her face and the genuine tears on her cheeks, were compensation enough. I knew her well enough to know it would not last unless I pushed a little farther though.

“So, you’re staying?” I asked.

She nodded, wiping tears from her eyes and nursing her bare bottom.

“Then you agree to do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it and keep your opinions to yourself?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Good,” I said. “Now you are going to strip--

She gasped, eyes widening like saucers.

--everything off and then you will go upstairs, iron my clothes, neatly take of everything in its proper place, and then come back down to the kitchen and stand against the wall with your bare red bottom on display until I’m ready to send you off to bed. Understood?”

She glanced at the door then back to me and tugged her pants and panties down her legs stepping out of them and tossing them onto the coffee table. Covering herself for a moment against the wall, she found the nerve to lift her top off and throw it to join her other things. Wearing nothing but her bra and nylons she looked to me for mercy.

“Everything,” I said.

Her face turned bright red and she unfastened her bra, throwing it to the table. A moment later she rolled her nylons off her legs and rushed off up the stairs. I followed her, to make certain she would do a good job of course. Elaine lifted the mountain from my bed and carried it back down to her work area. She ironed well into the night and when I woke in the morning she was standing by the kitchen wall, hands on her head, naked bottom still displayed. My clothing was so well tended, I am thinking I might have to permanently alter her uniform. I wonder if Elaine would voice an opinion about it?