You are "kept" in my home as a willing, but servile, girl. Twenty-five now, you first arrived about three years ago. You have learned to be available at my whim, for whatever purpose I may require; many of them, but not all, sexually oriented.
One thing I sometimes have you do, is to work under the orders of my house staff, particularly the head maid who directs a trio of girls who keep the place neat, tidy, and shined where it should be, warm, cozy, and comfortable where it should be, and masculine, powerful, and intimidating where it should be. When working for her, you are to follow any instruction you are given, unless it directly contradicts specific instructions I have given you previously. It is unlikely this will happen, since Heather (the head maid) knows my preferences quite well.. and also knows that her job depends upon going about things my way. She may however, as I've instructed her, occasionally test you to see if you remember that my instructions trump hers if there is any discrepancy between the two.
Working for the maid staff, which occurs every week or two, depending upon your recent behavior, will most often entail taking care of some of the tasks the others least like to do. Bathrooms, laundry areas, closets, the attics, and most exhausting of all; hand buffing the marble entryway and main hall, a task properly performed on all fours.
On this afternoon, after you have finished the five bathrooms, your back aches from all of the bending, scrubbing, and making sure that the toilets are clean enough to drink from (which we test by having you do exactly that). You are surprised to hear that you've been assigned to the open sunroom at the back of the mansion, having never been allowed to service that area before. With instructions to approach the hand cleaning of the Italian ceramic tile floor, you know that you are in for a long stretch of backbreaking, knee bruising duty, but at least it is outside with a view of the gardens, a bit of the pool and pool house, and almost within sight of the rose and sculpture gardens beyond. The latter two gardens you've heard of, but never been allowed to visit.
So, dressed in your traditionally sexy little French maid outfit... cut short at the skirt and low in the front... and corsetted (which makes breathing all the more difficult with such physically demanding work), you arrive at the sunroom area with bucket, sponges, brushes, and cleaning products in hand. You recall how embarrassed you were the first time you were told to dress this way, for such duty. It was humiliating to be forced to put on something that so very obviously portrayed you as nothing more than a stereotypical objectified image; designed for entertainment and sexual pleasure. But that was some time ago, and gradually you accepted, and then learned to cherish the opportunity to dress this way for me. Often it led to experiences that were both richly humiliating and erotic; two themes which tended to blend nicely for you... when aroused in the service of your Master. When you are on your hands and knees working, the skirt shows just a hint of the curve at the bottom or you ass.. which you keep firm and round from your assigned fitness routine. Your breasts... pushed up nice and full by the corset, will appear just as I like... firm and full, and pushed hard against the low cut front of the dress; spilling over just a bit.