Due to some confusion with Chapter One I would like to make it clear that all characters in this story are eighteen or over. It seems I did not make it clear enough last time. My apologies.
*
It was three days before Marta's next due visit, and I spent the time in anticipation and plotting. I was still in bed when I heard her arrive and just let her get on with her duties. After all, the house still needed cleaning despite any frustration on my part. I slowly eased myself from my bed and took a shower. When I came out to dress myself, I could hear noises from downstairs, but they were indistinct. I assumed she was busy doing the cleaning. I decided it was time for breakfast, so I pressed the call button.
A few minutes later there was a knock on the door, and I called "come in". Marta appeared, dressed as always in her maid uniform as I had instructed.
"I'd like some breakfast, please Marta, my usual."
"Of course, Sir."
"Did you bring Rosea with you today as I asked?"
"Yes, Sir, I put her to scrubbing the kitchen floor."
"Has she behaved since last time?"
"Mostly, Sir, but she has been a bit sullen."
"I'm sure we can do something about that. But, for now, I need food."
"Of course, Sir."
With that she turned and left the room. I sat back, my stomach rumbling, but with food almost secondary in my mind. In anticipation of things to come I had dressed simply in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. For the first time that day I took notice of the world beyond. Unlike three days ago, the world had changed from blue skies and sunshine and was now drab and grey with a light rain falling. So typically England, I thought the contrast from one day to the next.
I didn't have long to wait until there was a knock on the door and Marta reappeared carrying a tray. As with most people breakfast was never a matter of choice but one of the securities of familiarity. On her tray was a pot of my usual coffee. Black and probably far too strong for medical recommendations. Alongside that was a steaming plate of scrambled eggs on toast, tinted with a sprinkling of red paprika.
I ate it slowly, savouring every mouthful as I always did and then sat back and sipped at the first cup of coffee. The bitterness brought the world into focus. I began to feel right with life, so I pressed the call button. When Marta arrived, I gestured to the tray and the empty plate. She came over and picked them up, leaving the pot with the still hot coffee.
"When you have sorted that out come back here and bring Rosea with you."
"Yes, Sir," she replied giving what was almost a curtesy.
I poured myself a second coffee and gazed out of the French windows, now firmly closed against the rain and wind. Swimming in my pool was not an option today. I would have to rely on more indoor pleasures.
When Marta returned, she came and stood halfway into the room and a shy looking Rosea lingered in the shadows by the door. I smiled at them both but chose to speak to Rosea first.
"Hello again, Rosea. So lovely to see you again. No chance of a swim today it seems."
She blushed wildly and looked resolutely at the floor.
"Marta, come and sit here with me," I ordered, patting my knee.
Obediently and with no hesitation, Marta walked over, teetering on her high heels, and made herself comfortable on my lap. I immediately started to stroke her thigh while looking at Rosea to see how she would react. She was watching her mother with a mixture of annoyance and jealousy. It was exactly the response I had hoped for.
"Can you remember the instructions I gave you the last time you were here?" I asked, turning my attention back to Marta.
"You said we weren't to play with ourselves, Sir," and her voice went into a squeak as I pushed my thumb into the crotch of her panties,
"And have you been good?"
"Yes, Sir."
"And Rosea? Has she been obedient as well?"
"As far as I know, Sir."
"Have you?" I snapped, suddenly focussing on the girl across the room.
Her response was to take a quick step back and to turn bright red.
"Oh dear," I said, "it seems we have a girl who hasn't learned her lesson from last time."
By now I had lifted Marta's tiny skirt up and exposed her lacy panties and my hand was already starting to explore inside.
"I tried my best. Sir, but you know what children can be like."
"Indeed I do, Marta," I said as my fingers slipped easily across her cunt lips, already eagerly wet. "Step forward girl," I commanded.
Slowly and with some reluctance she advanced two or three paces, finally emerging from the gloom of the far side of the room. For several moments I gazed at her, my mind distracted by the feel of the smooth, freshly shaven mound beneath my fingertips. It was good to know that Marta had taken care before coming here today. Slowly I forced my attention back to Rosea. Her focus now seemed to be fixed on what was going on under her mother's panties. Little did she know. I already had one finger inside Marta and a second was about to follow.
"Something tells me," I spoke quietly to Marta as she squirmed on my lap, but just loud enough for Rosea to hear, "that someone might be fibbing. Don't you think so?"
As aroused though she was, Marta managed to bring herself back to the real world.
"Do ... you ... think so, Sir," she managed to say between gasps.
"Oh, I do, Marta. And I am very displeased. Not just with Rosea, but with both of you. As her mother it is down to you to make sure she obeys instructions, is it not?"
I felt her shiver and tremble at the thought, distracted though she was by my second finger sliding in alongside the first and pushing deep into her cunt. As I started to slide in and out, I looked back at Rosea. Now she had stepped forward out of the gloom I could see what she was wearing, which in fact amounted to very little. I wondered if she had chosen her outfit or whether her mother had had a say in things.
Her bright red skirt was as short as Marta's uniform if not even shorter. It barely covered her and left me wondering if she had even bothered with underwear. But we could find that out later. Above she wore a pale pink crop top of the sort I had seen and admired of girls a few years younger in the nearby shopping mall. It ended just below her small boobs and was tight enough that her nipples showed. It was obvious she was trying to exploit her young looks to the best advantage.
"Am I right, Rosea, have you touched yourself since the other day?"
The girl blushed an even deeper shade of red and hung her head. Looking at the floor she nodded almost imperceptibly.
"It isn't wise to lie to me. Don't try and hide things from me again."
By now I had tugged at the bow at the back of Marta's neck and released the top of her apron. The tight black top of her maid's dress proudly displayed her small tits to the world. She made no move to stop me toying with one of her nipples, rolling it between thumb and forefinger. She was concentrated instead with what my hand was doing inside her panties. But I needed her full attention, so I pulled it out and held it up. My fingers were slick with her juices and I offered them to her mouth which opened and accepted them eagerly.
"It seems her recent spanking did nothing to change her behaviour. We now have to add lying and further disobedience to her woeful catalogue of sins."
I pushed Marta off my lap, and she staggered on her heels and almost fell, grabbing the arm of my chair just in time. I stood up and fixed Rosea with a stern look and then walked the few steps towards her. She looked nervous, almost frightened, and couldn't hold my gaze. I slowly walked round her examining her. standing next to the chair, Marta had regained her composure and was quietly watching me, no doubt wondering what was to happen next.
"Do you think these clothes are entirely suitable for an eighteen-year-old?" I asked peering over Rosea shoulder. I flicked the hem of the short skirt and Rosea flinched. "This skirt is almost indecently short, don't you think?"
"I do, Sir, but she would insist."
"And you, as her mother, have no say in what she wears?"