The ever so dutyful maid...
""You whore, I wish daddy kicked you out!" Josebelle, my masters daughter said. "I wonder what he see's in you, you whore! 'APPARENTLY' you have skills!" her mother, Dosiana hisses. "Skills at being a whore!" Josebelle snapps and they both giggle. I carry on sewing their ever so beautiful gown dresses. I could feel their stares burning my back, dripping in hatred. Carefuly, I sewed another shiny pearl onto the soft, velvet material. "You'll be out of here soon, just you wait and see!" titters the mistress and seconds later I feel and iron grip on my hair and I'm being yanked back, off the chair, my numb head hitting the floor. "Dosiana, my wife, this is no way to treat your maidens" I hear the pervaty voice of my master bounce off my back. He's just made things a trillion times worst. My hair covers up the puddle of blood forming on my head, but not only am i hurting physically, but emotionaly too.The master is a sick, twisted man, with greasy hair and a moustache the size of a caterpillar accompanied by a dozen spots on his wrinkled face. How old is he, probably 3 times my age, yet he has this thing about me. I hate him. Slowly, I follow him to his study room, where he forces me to perch on his knee and knocks the brush out of my hand, before he starts to kiss me and fondle me. I squerm and try to pull free. "Stop!" I gasp, but his lips suck on mine like a vacuum. "Stop-" my eargent voice is cut off by his rough fingers as he gags me. He starts to head for under the weak material of my dress...
"Father..."
My masters son, probably 2 years older than me (I'm 16) cuts this steamy 'embrace' short. "Just leave her be, you know how mother and josebelle, my sister, already are." I scurry out of the room, burning. What must he think of me? An easy whore. I avoid he's brown, chocolaty eyes, and my eyes steam up as I notice his sharp jawline, manly shoulders and mopp of dark blonde hair. He's goodlooking and kind, but he's related to a pig and that's why I hate him.
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