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Part I of 'Punishing His Maid'
Victorian BDSM EroticaAnna Austin
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Anna Austin
Written by Anna Austin
~~ All characters in this book are 18 or over. ~~
When Marie was young, she had proudly declared that she was going to live in a big house someday. Somewhere with high windows, soft carpets and a fireplace in every room, just like in the stories. Ten years later, her dream had come true, but not quite in the way she had imagined as a child. She did indeed live in a big house – as a maid, whose job was to clean those high windows and soft carpets and make sure there was a fire in every fireplace.
The work was not easy, but at least the master of the house looked after the servants. Marie had heard stories of maids who were treated much worse, beaten when they made a mistake, so she could count herself lucky. Mr. Marston was a good man, if only a little serious and distant. The housekeeper said that it was because he was a widow, that the loss of his wife had made him pensive and reserved. Nevertheless, while only in his early forties, handsome and certainly one of the most eligible bachelors around, Mr. Marston did not seem to be in a hurry to find a new wife. Instead, he devoted his days to reading and hunting, sometimes hosting a small party for a few other gentlemen.
Marie may have had a fairly nice life in Mr. Marston’s house, but her family were not so lucky. After her father took ill one winter, he never made a full recovery and could not keep working as a blacksmith. Her mother and elder sister did what they could, but even when Marie sent them what she could, it wasn’t always enough. Marie would do anything for her family, but she had her expenses too – for example, working in a nice big house like Mr. Marston’s required her clothing to always be pristine – so when her mother sent her a letter that implored her to find a way to send just a little more, she had to admit that there was nothing else she could do.
She was so absorbed in her thoughts on her way to her room that night that she almost didn’t notice the housekeeper putting out the candles in the hallway. It seemed like the housekeeper hadn’t noticed her approaching either, because he kept putting out the flames, picking the candle stubs out of the holders and putting them in a basket. However, for every stub he placed in the basket, he placed one stub in a drawstring bag.
But why would he keep them separate? Marie thought. And then she realised – he was stealing half of the candle stubs to sell them back to the candle-maker. Everyone knew that it was common practice, but Marie had never thought it also happened in this house. She had half a mind to confront the housekeeper, but she did not want to start trouble. So instead, she made a point of moving with more noise than usual to alert the housekeeper of her presence. Indeed, the housekeeper lifted his head abruptly and hid the bag in the basket when he spotted Marie.
‘’Good night,’’ she said as she passed him, trying to keep her voice light like she hadn’t just caught him stealing.
‘’Good night, Marie,’’ he replied in the same deceptively light tone.
Marie rushed to her room.