Jameson Ch 05

A new day in the Jameson household, Cheri wakes to a sun-filled room. Sitting up she realizes her body is feeling much better until she brushes her hair and her scalp stings from the hair-pulling. She washes up, dabs on some makeup, pulls on a pair of loose fitting clothes and quietly goes out of her room. The smell of pancakes and her hunger lead her downstairs to look for something to eat. The marble floor feels cold on her bare feet as she looks around to see if anyone is there.

Again the library doors are closed and she hears voices coming from inside. Looking around and finding no one she gets closer to the doors to eaves drops on what is going on inside. She hears Maston's voice, but it is muffled and then she hears something hit the floor. Before she could make anything else out the familiar sound of Franklin's footsteps resound in the nearby hallway making her scurry into the kitchen and nearly runs into Julio who washing the breakfast dishes. He simply looks at her with a smile and says,

"Wait in the dining room, I will make you breakfast." unaware of what is going on outside the kitchen.

"Um, Okay."

Afraid of doing something wrong she just does what she is told, even if it is from the cook. Taking the end seat at a table for ten she feels so lonely. This is her first time eating in the massive dining room with its vaulted ceiling and stunning crystal chandelier hanging above her. The table is polished Cherry wood and there are three huge bouquets of fresh flowers for centerpieces.

Franklin walks in and sets a plain white place-mat in front of her with utensils wrapped in a crisp white napkin. Cheri feels like a guest and that makes things seem even stranger. Julio comes out with a plate of three large pancakes, a cup of coffee and all the condiments she could ask for on a tray. He starts to serve her and she shoos him away as being served with formality all the time is making her uncomfortable.

Her coffee tastes so good with the fresh cream that she can't help but lick the spoon. A few bites into her syrup covered pancakes Maston walks in with a cup of coffee,

"Mind if I join you?" he asks politely even though her answer would mean nothing.

She is startled at first, swallows what is in her mouth, her eyes watching his every move, feeling like a mouse when the cat shows up. Sitting at the other end of the table Maston sets down his coffee and several papers he has in his hand. There's an awkward silence between them.

He attempts to break it,

"So, how are you feeling today my dear?" he asks formally, like NOTHING ever happened between them, ever.

Wiping her mouth nervously with her napkin, she answers,

"Oh, I'm fine, I guess."

Stopping mid-sip he questions, "I guess?? Why, what is wrong Cheri?"

She is very baffled now. It's like he is a stranger, like nothing happened, no sex, no beating, not even the intimate dinner a few nights earlier. He is so different.

"I don't know what to say Maston...you,"

He quickly interrupts her,

"Mr. Jameson, not Maston. I am your employer, you, the employee. Please, continue."

Hesitating to process the situation she tries to pick up her train of thought,

"Yes, Mr. Jameson. What I mean to say is I don't know who you are anymore."

"I just told you dear, I am your employer."

He says with a bogus smile.

"I know, but wait, what was all that yesterday? You BEAT me. Then you come in my room to make it all BETTER?? I don't get it!"

"Listen..." he replies while pointing his spoon at her like he did before on the patio,

"You broke a rule. You needed to be taught a lesson."

"What RULE?"

"My rules my dear, nothing is done here without my permission, entering my domain especially." "You're WHAT? I'm sorry Mas...MMMISTER Jameson, but I didn't know."

"Well now you do." He says with a calm coolness about him.

Confused she loses her temper along with her appetite and starts to walk away.

"CHERI!"

"Yes?" spinning around to face him, her face all flushed from frustration.

"Did you ask permission to leave the table while I am still here?"

"I - I didn't think, I mean, I ... May I pleeeease leave the table Missster Jameson?"

"Now you are being like a sarcastic bitch!" he snaps.

"I --I'm sorry!" realizing that was a BAD idea, her heart leaps into her throat.

"Go upstairs and put on your maid uniform, the decent one, and meet me outside the library. Quickly!"

Afraid to question him again she scurries up to her room, changing her clothes to the uniform while trying to hold back tears. Needing to use the bathroom she fumbles while pulling her panties back up because her hands are shaking. Stopping at the sink to wash her hands and splashes cold water on her face. Running across the room while putting her hair in a pony-tail she whips open the door and dashes to the stairs stopping for a moment at the top to see him standing there waiting for her at the bottom, angry, so different from the night he treated her like a princess.

At the bottom she starts nervously tugging at her skirt. Mr. Jameson opens the doors to the library and shows her in leading her over to the desk and points to the clutter all around it.

"Here, I need for you to clean this up!"

Looking around she finds much of the same disarray as was caused when they had sex in there on her first day, the handcuffs lying on the floor, books strewn about from his desk. The rug was wrinkled and bunched up and the smell of perfume lingered. It was familiar. It was the scent of the red-head he had interviewed before. Cheri's knees grow weak and she feels both angry and heartbroken.

"How could you?" she asks in a frightened but angry tone.

"How, how could you?" she asks again in disbelief.

"How could I what Cheri? This is MY home."

She breaks down and falls to her knees to pick up the fallen books and the cuffs, barely able to see through the tears and heartbreak. He stands over her, being intimidating on the outside but realizing his feelings for her on the inside. This girl is a bit special to him and he tries to fight those feelings. "Hurry up now!" he commands with his arms crossed in front of his broad chest.

He looks like a giant from where she is crouching on the floor. After straightening out the rug she looks up at him with tears falling from her red, puffy eyes.

"That's my girl." He says with a slight smile and softer voice, taking her hand, helping her to her feet. She bows her head because she doesn't want to look at his face, it hurts too much. Juggling his own feelings he resists kissing her and sends her back to her room.

The smell of that other woman's perfume stayed in her clothes and the thought of them together, having sex in the library just as she and Mr. Jameson had done makes her feel like vomiting.

Maston sits down at his desk, feeling a bit torn because Cheri is an unexpected person that has come into his life with an irresistible innocence about her that he can't seem to shake. Yes, the innocent are easier to command and mold, but she is different to him somehow. He sits back and lights a cigar from his box, puts his feet on the desk, crossing his ankles, leans back and ponders.

Cheri is back in her room, heartbroken and dazed. She thought he loved her, she feels more for him than she wants to admit at the moment. Running away seems to be the right thing to do, get away from him and her feelings for him, but where will she go?

She has very little money as everything is provided for her by him. Remembering him calling her a slut, she is beginning to believe she has become one. Unable to rest, she paces the room like a caged, kept animal.

Getting out of her maid uniform and back into her own clothes Cheri separates her belongings removing those he had given her. In the midst of heightened emotion she packs her bags and plans to make a run for it.

"Tonight." she whispers to herself. "I'll leave while he is asleep and just go anywhere away from him." Taking a few deep breaths she sits on her bed and tries watching some mindless TV to pass the time. Next thing she knows her room is dark and the light and sound from the TV is unnerving, she had fallen asleep. Gathering her thoughts in her head, her plan, she works herself up to have the courage to leave. Shutting off the TV and slipping on her shoes, grabbing her packed bags she peeks out of the door. It's all dark except for the dimmed foyer lights. Looking at the front door she decides that will be too obvious so she tip-toes past Maston's room and heads down the back stairs.

Gently she steps, one by one, down, down; suddenly stopping as one step loudly creaks making her heart pound in her throat and her eyes squint for fear of being caught. Keeping so quiet she can hear herself breathing. When no one comes around she continues and makes it to the back door. She can hear the rain outside and isn't prepared for it; her jacket is packed away with no time to risk looking for it. Unbolting the door, she grabs the door-knob, readying herself to make a run for it. Turning the knob she opens the door; it sets off an alarm that she didn't plan on. The buzzing sound is almost unbearable and the outside floodlights turn the grounds from darkness to daylight, her fear keeps her running.

Bolting as fast as she can down the cobblestone drive she finds she is locked in by the entrance gate. Unable to get through or over it, Cheri runs across the rain soaked grass with Maston after her in his bedclothes and barefoot, followed by Joseph. As he catches up to her she spins around swinging her bags nearly knocking him over, screaming at the top of her lungs,

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Hysterical and drenched she tries to dash away from him but Maston manages to grab her by the arm and she falls into him dropping her bags in the mud.

"LET ME GO! LET- ME- GO!!" she demands showing her teeth like a mad dog.

Maston is soaked, his dark dripping hair falling in his face, his night clothes becoming nearly see-through as they cling to his tight body. Joseph managed a jacket before running out his door; his wet jeans cling to his long legs. Maston pulls her into his arms and Joseph grabs her by the ankles, Cheri thrashes about as Maston and Joseph manage to get her back to the house. Grabbing at the doorjamb she struggles to get back out the door, it takes the both of them to get her to the floor and restrain her with their wet bodies. Nearly breathless, Maston sits on top of her and slaps her across the face trying to calm her down while Joseph battles to hold down her flailing arms.

"CHERI! CHERI!" Maston screams in her face between breaths.

"RELAX! STOP THIS!"

"NO!" she screams back at him.

Wanting to give it one more try to break free she realizes she can't. Exhausted and sore Cheri gives in, pinned down and fighting to catch her breath. After restraining her for almost twenty minutes Maston tells Joseph to let go of her, having him linger for awhile longer until he is sure he has complete control of her. Crying, cold and wet she curls up in the fetal position shivering and Maston sends Joseph away. Sitting on the floor next to her he strokes her hair,

"What in the world was THAT all about Cheri? You mustn't try that again my dear."

His hair falling over his forehead and dripping off of his nose he sees what he has done to her. Knowing he needs to regain her trust, he helps her up off of the floor, wraps his arm around her and helps her up the back steps guiding her into his room. Reaching his room she tries to hold back from going inside.

"NOO!" she sobs thinking she will again be punished.

Closing the door behind them he tries reassuring her,

"C'mon love, I won't hurt you. Let's get you out of those wet clothes."

He leads her into the bathroom. Closing the door, he starts the shower, strips her naked as well as himself and helps her into the tub. She is tired and numb. The warm water runs down her chilled skin; lathering the soap Maston caresses her sore body making him hard and wanting her, but knows it's not a good idea to take her tonight. Unable to hold back, he lathers himself and masturbates while she stands under the shower-head with the water running down her body and dripping off of her breasts. He turns his back to her as he cums, helping her aside he rinses himself off. Turning her around he sees the welts he has left on her, but cannot see how broken her heart is for him.

Shutting off the water he steps out and dries himself off and wraps the towel around his waist. Cheri is still standing in the tub looking like a zombie. Maston carefully helps her out, dries her off and slips her into his thick white robe and sits her on the edge of the bed drying her hair with the towel. She hasn't said a word; she's dazed and tired.

Stepping away for a moment Maston slips on dry pajama pants and slips her into the matching shirt. Cheri crawls onto the bed and lies on her belly, exhausted. Maston gets an ointment for her wounds, pulling away her robe; gently he rubs it into her tender, red skin and she starts to doze off. It takes Maston some prodding to wake her enough to get her under the covers. Shutting out the light he slides in next to her, tucking his arm under her neck, pulling her in he holds her tight.

Waking during the night, Cheri looks around the room confused, not really remembering getting into Maston's bed. Reaching over she feels him next to her, he's warm and strong and feeling too exhausted to fear him, she curls up, resting her head on his chest listening to the rhythm of his breathing and the pounding of his heart. His hand comes up and rests on the side of her head making her feel secure, she drifts back to sleep.

Morning comes and Cheri finds herself alone in Maston's bed. Sitting up, wiping the sleep from her eyes to focus, she finds he is not anywhere around. His pajama pants are draped across the foot of the bed and she can smell his cologne, he had recently left. Dressed only in his pajama shirt, she wanders the room looking for her clothes. They are gone. She slips on his bottoms that he had left at on the bed and peeks out the bedroom door making sure it is safe to dash to her own room down the hall. She runs, holding his pants tight to her body so they won't fall down, stopping mid step when she hears him call out,

"CHERI!"

He's coming up the stairs with a tray of food.

"Oh Mas -- um, Mr. Jameson, you startled me!"

He smiles that smile she has fallen in love with and he escorts her to her room, placing the tray on the small table next to the window, the one she never thought to use because that's where she kept her bags. Maston smiles, pours her coffee and tells her to enjoy her meal. After he walks out the door Cheri gets up to get a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror,

"Oh my, I look freakish!"

She is so embarrassed now that he has seen her with her face and eyes all swollen from crying. There are scratches across her cheek and redness from the slap, figuring the scratches may be from his rings but she isn't quite sure. She really isn't sure of anything.

Sitting back at the table, quietly sipping her coffee after licking the cream from her spoon, the door opens and its Mr. Jameson again with all the clothes she had packed the night before, clean and pressed after getting soaked and muddy when her bags fell in the rain, he sets them on her bed.

"I had your bags sent to the dry cleaner; they will be ready in a day or so."

"Thank you." He closes the door behind him as he leaves.

Her brain is pretty numb at this point and she isn't sure how or what to feel towards Maston. Just that he still makes her heart skip a beat when he is around. Maston leans against the outside of her door for a moment with his hand still on the knob. He's falling for her and he's fighting it. He wants to have her serve him and have her kept, but there is something about her that makes him feel so bad when he punishes her wrong doings. No other woman has stirred him the way she does. Rubbing his hand across his forehead he heads down the stairs to his usual place, the library, his sanctuary, closing himself in.

After finishing her meal Cheri washes up and puts on her shoes, hoping to get permission to go outdoors, though it seems highly unlikely. The sun is shining and she hasn't felt it on her skin for days. Nervously she knocks on the French doors to the library,

"COME IN!" he calls from his desk.

She steps inside, her heart is pounding and the memory of cleaning up the mess from the day before turns her stomach, she quietly asks while fidgeting with the fabric of her jeans,

"Mr. Jameson, Sir?"

"Yes Cheri, what is it?" looking up from his book,

"Would you mind if I took a stroll outside to get some sun?"

She cowers, ready for him to shout at her but instead he replies in a quiet tone,

"You may, but no funny business."

She smiles and starts to thank him; he continues,

"I will take you to the patio. I can't have you wandering after last night my dear. You need to regain my trust."

"Yes Sir."

Taking handcuffs from his desk he leads her to the patio table and cuffs her ankle to its leg. She isn't incredibly surprised by this, it was rather expected. He kisses her on top of her head and sits back down at his library desk putting his head in his hands, fighting his feelings. Cheri sits quietly thinking about Maston.