The Squire

This is the second chapter of the story of twenty-three-year-old Laura and her misadventures in her new employment. It will make more sense if you read chapter one first. All characters, major and minor, in this story are over the age of eighteen.

*****

Once Miss Alice had left the chef took a lock of my hair and dragged me across the kitchen to where another girl was working at a sink. She seemed unaware of us as we approached and was taken by surprise when he spoke.

"Mary!"

She jumped and turned around with a startled expression on her face. Seeing who it was she immediately took up the pose I had been taught earlier and which I was still struggling to maintain despite being dragged about by the hair.

"I have your replacement," he told her, and she burst into a smile, "you can go onto veg prep. Go and find Teresa. She'll tell you what you can do."

She quickly pulled off the plastic apron she was wearing, flung it over the draining board and started to leave. But not before Phillip caught her arm and pulled her to him. She was close enough that I heard what was said.

"Come to my room tonight, ok!" It was a command rather than a request.

"Yes, Master Phillip," she said with a smile, and scurried off.

He turned his attention back to me and pushed me up against the sink. He picked up the discarded apron and thrust it towards me and I had to bring my hands down to grab it from him.

"You're on pan washing and you'd better do a good job."

With that he turned and walked off leaving me to figure out what to do. For the rest of the day, I struggled to keep up with what seemed to be a never-ending supply of dirty pots and pans brought to me continuously by other girls. Most of them were younger than me and they all wore the same drab brown shift. It seemed to be the standard kitchen uniform. I tried smiling at each in turn but got little response. One or two would return a wan smile that was almost secretive but that was all. None responded to my offer of a "Hello". None except one girl. She was about my age and so was a couple of years older than the others. I guessed, from the way she carried herself that she had been here longer than the others.

She showed me where to put the cleaned and dried pans, which ones went on which shelf. It was on her fourth visit, carrying a large saucepan that she started to open up.

"Careful, this one's hot," she cautioned me and then hesitated before returning to her work. "Are you Laura?" she asked, and I nodded still nervous about speaking.

"I'm Annabel," she announced, "you'll be sharing a room with me. Gotta go."

And off she dashed, leaving me a bit stunned. At least I had a name of someone non-threatening that I didn't have to do some stupid pose for. For the rest of the morning, I concentrated on cleaning pans. It was hard work, and it left my fingers wrinkled but I persevered. The clamour and hubbub of the kitchen went on behind me, but I had no time to take any notice. Around midday the tempo increased, and I saw plates of food being loaded into a dumb waiter, after which things quietened down. Everyone else drifted off to a long table at the far end leaving me still bent over a sink, elbows-deep in mucky water. Out of the corner of my eye I watched as they slurped on bowls of soup and tore off chunks of home-made bread. My poor tummy began to rumble in protest. After about half an hour they started to get up and move back to their work.

I was glad to see Annabel walk towards me with an apologetic look on her face.

"So sorry, Laura," she said mournfully, "Phillip forgot about you and I was so hungry that I did as well. There's some soup left if you're quick. We'll chat later." She left with a wink and a smile, the first friendly gesture I had received since I got here.

I quickly went over to the empty table, picked up a clean bowl and ladled soup into it. The bread baskets were empty, and I had to content myself with eating just the soup which by now had become lukewarm. It was, however, still tasty and, more importantly, filling. I had no idea when my next meal would be, so I grabbed a second helping before taking the huge metal soup pan back to my sink to begin my routine all over again.

Around the middle of the afternoon, I could resist the need no longer. I desperately wanted a pee, so I took off my apron and went up to the nearest person, a girl busy peeling a huge pile of potatoes and asked where the toilet was. She gave me a shocked look before returning her attention to her peeling but managed to point in the direction of a door in the corner. When I got there, I found the word 'Toilet' scratched in the paintwork. I opened the door and stepped inside.

It was a small, cramped room with a sink on one side and an unenclosed toilet at the far end. I was shocked that there was no seat or lid but even more shock by the spectacle that greeted me. A girl was bent over the sink, her brown dress hitched under her armpits and a man in chef's whites that I'd never seen before was behind her, trousers around his ankles, pummelling his manhood into her. I gasped and he turned towards the noise.

"What the fuck do you want, bitch?" he demanded, not even breaking his rhythm.

"I ... I need a wee ..." I said in a feeble voice, then hastily added, "... sir."

"Well fucking get on with it and fucking hurry up."

He emphasised his point by increasing the tempo of his thrusting into the girl beneath him. She was grinning and seemed to be enjoying herself. I had to make myself as small as possible to squeeze past the two of them in the narrow room. I wanted to run away but my bladder wouldn't let me.

When I looked at them both their heads had turned to watch me. I felt myself turning red but by now the need was overwhelming. I forced myself to hoik up my dress and sit down on the cold porcelain.

"Don't forget the squire's pose," said the man as he thrust into the girl making her grunt and moan, "you could be in trouble if I tell anyone."

I knew he was taunting me, but I had no choice. I forced my hands behind my head, leaving me exposed to their stares. Then my bladder gave way and my pee squirted out filling the room with the sound of it splashing into the bowl. This seemed to excite both of them, and I could tell she was close to her climax. I watched his swollen member appear and disappear as he fucked her. I wanted to leave them in peace so I quickly wiped myself and stood up, tugging my scrap of a dress down to hide myself as best as I could and started to head for the door. As I squeezed past them, he grabbed me and pulled me to him.

"Where are you going, bitch? You'll miss the best part."

He fucked her a few more times before he pulled out of the girl. She immediately knew what to do. In a well-practiced routine, she turned and dropped to her knees. His penis was large, larger than usual it seemed to me, certainly larger than the three I had encountered in my twenty-three years. He pushed it into her waiting mouth. She didn't resist but took it gladly. He thrust as deep as he could a few times and then took it out and left it hovering above her face. She knelt compliantly, her mouth open, gazing up at him adoringly. I thought I knew what to expect having been forced to go through it with a previous boyfriend, but he took me by surprise by grabbing my hand and making me wrap my fingers around his penis. His hand held mine in place and he began to use me to masturbate. His grip was like a vice and I was trapped. Suddenly he stiffened and he became still and then a torrent of cum squirted over her face. Some made it into her mouth, and she swallowed with a triumphant and contented smile.

Her face was streaked with the sticky white goo, but she didn't seem to care. I felt a hand on the back of my neck and his strong arm forced me to bend down.

"Clean her up, bitch."

He pushed me until our faces met. I had tasted a man's cum before, I was no stranger to the taste but never under circumstances quite like this. I felt that if I wanted to get out of here then I had no choice. Nervously I stuck out my tongue and licked at her cheek. I took his cum into my mouth and repeated the action around her chin.

The whole thing felt like a scene out of a cheap porno film. When I had finished the pressure on the back of my neck eased and I could lift up but only a few inches before I was stopped again. Below me the girl knelt with an open mouth.

"Give her my cum, bitch."

She was willing, indeed eager to receive it, so I took aim and let it dribble from my mouth. I was glad to be rid of it and she grinned in appreciation.

"Good girls. Now, you, on your knees," he said pushing harder on my neck forcing me down onto my knees, "time for her reward, Molly, you've had your share."

She knew what he meant and knelt up until her face was over mine. I knew what was expected of me and with resignation I opened my mouth. I watched as the rivulet of cum oozed from between her lips. I felt it trickle onto my tongue and I denied myself the urge to close my mouth. I knew I would suffer if I did so. I could feel tears welling up as I knelt there feeling hopeless.

"Swallow it, bitch," came his harsh command, and I did so. His hand left my neck and I watched as he adjusted his trousers, tucking himself away before turning and walking to the door. As he opened it, he turned and looked back at us, kneeling next to the dirty sink.

"That was fun," he said, "we must do it again. Next time I'll bring my phone and we can film it."

When the door shut the girl simply stood up and started to wash her face. She chattered away as if what had just happened was the most normal thing there was. I leaned back against the wall watching her as she cleaned herself up.

"That was so much fun," she said, giggling as she dried her face on the none-too-clean towel hanging from a hook, "he's got a great dick, don't you think? And watching you pee was such a turn on. It tipped me over the edge. That was the best fuck I've had for ages. Sorry I forgot you're new. Never mind, you'll soon get used to our funny ways. This whole house runs on kinky sex. You'll learn to love it like the rest of us."

I was too dumbfounded to respond as she rattled on. From my vantage point still knelt on the floor, I watched as she used the towel to wipe between her legs. Her pussy was devoid of hair and I remembered Miss Alice's words from this morning when she said that mine would have to go. I slowly unbent and stood up. The girl had moved away from the sink and was drifting to the door. I leaned over the sink and managed to get a mouthful of water from the tap. It felt good to swill away the taste of cum.

"Jake's alright when you get to know him. I think he's taken a shine to you, so we'll probably meet up in here again soon."

Leaving me with that thought she left. I looked into the cracked and tarnished mirror. The face that stared back looked close to tears. I tried to digest what had just been said and to make sense of what had happened. Was this to be my life from now on? Somehow, I forced myself into action and left the toilet and went back to work.

The pots had increased in number while I had been away, and I set to cleaning them with renewed determination. We were allowed a brief rest when one of the girls wheeled round an urn of tea. There was no mixing or groups chatting as there had been at the factory. Each girl stayed at her workplace and drank the tea quietly.

I was glad of the respite as I was feeling done in, although my work was not yet done. There was a final rush in the early evening as, what seemed to me to be a colossal amount of food, was loaded into the dumb waiters, and sent upstairs. After that things slowed down, and I was soon finished with the last of the pans. I was just scrubbing my work area when a murmur went around the room. A youngish man in a neat suit had come in. I copied the others as we all stood in our poses, so I assumed he was someone with authority.

He stood in the centre of the kitchen and called out the names of four girls. One by one they walked to line up behind him. I heard Mary's name called out and glanced in the direction of Phillip. He did not look pleased, standing almost to attention and scowling while the man commanded the room. I heard Molly's name called and watched as she almost ran to her place in the queue. The other two names were new to me and when the group had been assembled, I looked at them. Two looked a little nervous while the other two seemed delighted. They all left, following in single file behind the man in the suit. I tried to work out what it was all about but got nowhere.

We were all dismissed not long after and I followed the rest of the girls as they walked from the kitchen, singly or in pairs. I glanced sideways as I sensed a figure next to me. It was Annabel and she smiled broadly at me. Once outside the kitchen, as the group made its way up the winding stairs to the attic rooms, things relaxed. Girls started chatting and we could walk without the awkwardness of our poses. Beside me, Annabel took my hand.

"So, how was your first day?"

"Confusing," I confessed honestly. I wondered whether to mention the toilet incident and decided this might not be the right time.

She led me into the room I had first been in. "Mine's the bed on the right," she announced, "they always put the new girls with me as I've been here the longest. Be thankful, the others are all four to a room."

I sat on the edge of the bed nervously. Annabel simply threw herself onto hers and lay back, breathing a huge sigh of relief. She grinned at me and I finally felt able to smile back at her. I felt exhausted physically and drained emotionally. I just wanted to sleep, and I lay down on the bed and curled up.

"Not so quick, young Laura, or you'll miss dinner. They send up the leftovers once they've finished and you don't want to miss out."

I was about to reply when the door burst open and Miss Alice came charging in. We both scrambled from our beds and posed for her. She looked at us both suspiciously, almost as if she were expecting to find something. When she didn't, she fixed her gaze on me. We had both leapt off our beds and assumed the pose and I was rigid, frozen with fear.

"New girl, follow me."

She was obviously a woman of few words, but I still hastened to obey. I glanced at Annabel who gave me a puzzled look before I dashed out of the door and followed Miss Alice to the door at the end of the corridor. It proved to be a bathroom with a large free-standing bath with a built-in shower, a toilet and bidet and, most curiously, a low couch. It also contained a woman, not dressed like the rest of us and looking quite professional. She was busy putting out various objects on a low table. A scent of warm candles filled the air. As Miss Alice closed the door the woman turned around and smiled at me.

"This is Lucy," explained Miss Alice, "she's here to do your waxing. Now, strip and lie down on the couch."

When I hesitated, I heard a sigh of exasperation behind me. The hem of my dress was lifted from behind and I heard two loud slaps well before I felt them. The sound echoed around the room and then the sting started. I yelped as the pain blossomed. The other woman turned away from whatever it was she was doing to look at me. She smiled knowingly.

"I'm sorry about this, Lucy. She's new here today and has yet to learn. Let's try again." There was a pause and then, "strip!"

This time I had to obey, and I lifted the dress over my head. I let it fall to the floor before resuming my pose.

"Better. Now lie on the couch, knees up and legs spread wide."

I did as I was told. I felt exposed and on display as the two women looked down at me. Nervously I lifted my knees, and they were grabbed by Miss Alice who pulled them back until I was almost bent double. She was stronger than I thought, and, despite my resistance, she forced them apart leaving me gaping. I closed my eyes, trying to stop the tears, but I could feel them slowly coursing their way down the sides of my face. I felt my pubic hair grasped and lifted and then suddenly freed with the soft click of a pair of scissors. This was repeated until they must have been all gone.

A gentle hand brushed over the newly trimmed area before a sensation of burning heat hit me as the second woman spread wax across me. I peeked out from under my eyelids in time to see her pressing a gauzy cloth to the area. This brought a little comfort, but it was to be short lived. I can't really describe the pain that followed but I remember hearing the piercing scream that must have been mine. There was a ripping sound as, with a theatrical flourish, she pulled off the cloth.

"Don't be such a baby," a curt voice told me.

I was now crying freely, and I felt my body tremble. There was a commotion at the door as it burst open and three girl's faces appeared round the corner, their mouth gawping and with eyes wide with curiosity.

"Is the new girl getting waxed?" one of them asked.

"Of course she is," replied Miss Alice, "now quiet all of you. You can stay and watch if you want but I don't want to hear a word from you."

I flushed with embarrassment at the thought of having even more of an audience. It appears I was to be the entertainment for the evening. Meanwhile the other woman was ignoring the intrusion and was smearing more hot burning wax across my already sensitive pubes. I felt the cloth being pressed onto me for a second time and I steeled myself for what I now knew was to come. But being prepared did nothing to lessen the pain and I screamed again when she ripped away the fabric. This was followed by a chorus of giggles from the doorway, followed by a series of whispered comments.

"She's such a cry-baby." "Aww, its her first time." "She'll just have to get used to it like the rest of us."

This last comment bothered me the most and it was only later that I found out that all the girls were lined up naked every two weeks and subjected to the same treatment. It was to become a regular part of my life and I had to put up with it. With my mind in turmoil, I scarcely noticed the third and fourth applications of wax. That area was already numbed from the pain. Then I felt the soothing softness as a hand massaged oil into the now naked area. My breathing started to come back to normal until an oily finger traced the length of my labia, insinuating itself between them and playing with my entrance.

"Have you noticed this, Miss Alice? Your girl has become aroused."

A second hand joined the first and together they explored me. I was still aware of the audience by the door which by now had increased to five or six curious young faces. My lips were pulled apart and a finger drove deep inside me.

"She's obviously a slut," commented Miss Alice, "this will make training her much easier. So, thank you Lucy, I will deal with her from here. If you want to make use of one of the girls then please do so."

"Thank you, Miss Alice, I think that might be a good idea. I wish you luck with her."

My knees were released, and I allowed my legs to drop and droop over the edge of the couch. Slowly I recovered but, since their recent exploration, I was acutely aware that they were right. The tingling inside my pussy was nagging me. I was ashamed that I felt this way but at the same time I wallowed in the pleasant feeling. I desperately wanted to go back to my room, crawl under the flimsy sheets and relieve myself but I knew I would have an agonising wait before I was dismissed.

"Back to your rooms, girls, the show's over," came Miss Alice's stern command.

Grumpily and one by one the girls wandered off leaving me alone with Miss Alice. She moved and came and sat on the side of the couch. She seemed quieter and less threatening than before. She stroked my leg before lifting it up and placing it across her lap. Then she reached in and stroked my sensitive pussy. I blushed as she discovered how wet I was. Her finger slowly entered me, and I shivered with excitement.