Authors: Melissa Macneal
‘While Miss Delacroix gave us a home and entirely new lives,’ she began, daintily wiping her eyes with a lace hanky, ‘the headmistress is so…possessive. Controlling. We can’t have a
thought
to ourselves, and —’
Cinderella’s voice rose with her confession, and she became oblivious to the way everyone else in the room hung on her every word. ‘— and once, when I’d misbehaved, she made me kneel beside her chair, naked. She placed a large pane of glass on my back. I had to act as her
table
, while she served coffee and pastries to — to my mother!’
My gasp was not the only one in the room. When I glanced towards Chapin, who’d watched the whippings from the door, I couldn’t miss the horror on his pinched, pale face. ‘And your mother
allowed
Miss Delacroix to —’
‘She didn’t know it was me, for I’d been instructed to face the other way and keep my head tucked between my elbows — as though I couldn’t bear to look at her!’ Cinderella rasped. ‘How utterly degrading, to be pointing my bare backside at that woman, while she made her annual donation to the school.’
‘And I once spent three days slaving naked,’ Antoinette joined in with a dramatic rise of her eyebrows. ‘Which included sweeping the front sidewalk, where passers-by might see me! And it was quite chancy, helping the cook butcher chickens. It’s no easy feat, stretching a squirming bird’s neck across the block while someone else wields the hatchet.’
Thank goodness the redhead covered her breasts with her expressive hands, for
my
thoughts had gone to the cock bobbing near that block — an anatomical detail I did
not
want my husband to find out about!
Chapin seemed quite affected by this image: he made a choking sound, and then coughed to cover it. ‘It’s rude and disrespectful to discuss Miss Delacroix this way, and I’ll have no more gossip and tale-telling,’ he stated, gazing sternly at the maids. ‘You’re fortunate to have received your training at such a well-respected school, where you’ve been prepared to earn an honest living — to serve in the finest homes.’
Silent shame filled the parlour. Even Fanny Frike cowered beneath his glare.
‘By the way, my new valet, Judd Schuck, will arrive in a few days,’ he announced, his eyes narrowing pointedly at me. ‘The servant’s quarters seem an inappropriate place for him now, so he shall have the spare room adjoining my suite. I trust that your three
girls
— and Mistress Monique, of course — will have it ready for my inspection when I get home tomorrow.’
* * *
‘Valet, schmalet!’ my maid jeered as she fetched my clean underthings the next morning. ‘That Judd Schuck’s nothing but a spy,
non
? Why else would Mr Chapin put him in that room between your two suites?
My
room, no less!’
I smiled wryly, for Mr Schuck’s presence there certainly wouldn’t impede any sexual encounters between husband and wife. ‘I wondered if Chapin weren’t having illusions of grandeur yesterday, saying he needed a bodyguard. I think he’s so damn jealous, after seeing me with Dewel, that he’s hired this man to keep track of
me
, rather than anyone who might do him bodily harm.’
‘Which might be
me
, Aunt Evil,’ my maid replied. The pearl necklace I’d requested clittered in her hand as she shook it. ‘Mr Chapin’s getting awfully big for his britches. And Judd the Stud — he puts on a big act to cover a little prick. Hardly worth my time yesterday.’
We both chuckled over her turn of phrase as we entered the new valet’s quarters, where the three maids were already hard at work. Cleopatra, as the tallest, was running her covered mop around the ceiling to catch cobwebs, while Antoinette and Cinderella rolled up the rug. As they shifted the long, loosely coiled weight between them, Monique placed the rug beater under Toinette’s arm.
‘Thank you, mistress,’ she murmured, and as the two of them passed through the door they gave me a cheery ‘Good morning, Miss Eve!’
‘Hard at it, bright and early,’ I remarked. I noted Monique’s gaze lingering on the rug beater, an open paddle-like contraption with a long handle.
‘We want Mr Proffit to be
extremely
pleased with our work,’ Cinderella said. ‘Can’t have this Schuck fellow reporting any…stray cocks.’
‘Loose roosters? In my house?’ I quipped. ‘Why, I haven’t seen any such thing, have you, Monique?’
Her lips quirked. ‘The only wild cock around here will be the one Mr Chapin aims your way, when he can’t keep it to himself,’ she said when the maids were out of earshot. ‘We’re ready for your next lesson. Come with me,
ma tante
.’
As we strolled downstairs, I felt excitement thrumming through the arm she tucked around my waist. We entered the music room — a sunny salon seldom used these days, since no one played the grand piano. Monique playfully swatted my bottom before closing the pocket doors. She was in a feisty mood, judging from the way she pivoted and flipped her short skirt up to expose her bare backside.
‘Spank me. With your hand,’ she teased.
My hand instead went to my mouth. ‘Why do you enjoy whipping the new maids?’ I asked quietly. ‘And why on earth do they put up with it?’
Monique gave me a look that said I might not understand the answer, if I had to ask such a question. But then she stood straight, removing her short black uniform to tease me.
‘Our sissy maids, they like a lashing because that sting across their ass excites them — or because they long for the mama who spanked them as boys. They want a woman to take charge. So they can submit to her.’
My eyes widened. I thought very carefully about this as my maid began to remove my dress. ‘But when I got a spanking, I detested it.’
‘Because you were the child, and the one with the switch — or the cane, or the hand, or the hair brush — had all the power,
oui
? For me, it’s all about the
power
— especially over a man,’ she added gleefully. ‘We women have so few chances to bring them to their knees,
non
? And when they’re
so
grateful for it — like Cinderella last night — we do them the ultimate favour by teaching them how to
please
us.’
Her smile waxed absolutely wicked as she raised my camisole above my breasts. ‘And no matter what a man says, deep down he wants to please his woman. This way, she’s more likely to give him what
he
wants,
oui
?’
Comprehension dawned, yet I couldn’t miss the mischief on Monique’s face as she tossed the silky garment away, leaving me to stand before her wearing only my drawers, the stockings gartered above my knees, and my pumps.
‘Pretty, pretty breasts,’ she murmured, tweaking one until its nipple hardened. ‘But turn around,
cherie
. Show me that sassy ass! Mr Chapin, he got
very
excited last night when the girls were getting birched.’
‘That doesn’t mean I’ll let him strike
me
! Why, if he thinks —’
‘You don’t know what you’re missing,’ she whispered, crossing her arms saucily beneath her breasts. Her topknot swayed as she bit back a grin. ‘Bare it,
ma tante
. I won’t spank you, I promise. Just another love lesson. You want Chapin crazy for you,
non
?’
Little minx. I’d trusted her to sneak me under the table at the Beau Monde Club and get me home, so I could hardly deny her this playful…perhaps educational request. I slipped my fingers into the waist of my silk bloomers and slowly lowered them, watching her reaction.
‘
Oui
— ooh-la-la! It’s good, to hold the eyes and make him wait, while you reveal your treasures. You’re a natural, Auntie Evil.’ She approached with her hand extended, as though to caress my backside. ‘Now, what do you think of this?’
Her
smack
startled me so, I had to grab the mantel to steady myself. But then Monique began to rub the spot she’d just affronted, her warm palm making firm, lazy circles around the globe of flesh…gently pressing while the friction of skin against skin sang an alluring song. My eyelids lowered. My backside extended to fill her hand. I was getting wet between the legs, hoping her fingers would stray to the top of my thighs and then between them.
‘Point scored for Monique,
oui
?’ she asked as she stepped closer. ‘It can be very soothing, but very sexy, this rubbing…this rhythm that hypnotises with its pleasure. Then I slip my fingers lower, where this pussy’s purring so nice…ooh-la-la,
ma tante
. You’re dripping wet.’
When her middle finger entered me, and then was joined by another, wiggling deep into my core, I moaned. I leaned forward, forgetting about valets and irate husbands and the three male maids, as this foxy little female rubbed a knuckle against my —
Smack
went Monique’s hand on my ass again, only this time she giggled and bolted beyond my reach. I was suddenly chasing after her, following as she ducked around the piano. She waggled her ass at me before sprinting across the carpet — a sight to behold, in her high-heeled boots — before I cornered her at the bookcase near the door.
‘You little —
you
deserve a spanking!’ I laughed, grabbing her around the waist and smacking her backside. ‘This’ll teach you to leave
me
hanging, missy!’
Who else could howl and laugh in a French accent? Monique feigned great discomfort and shock — between giggles, anyway — so I continued to spank her, just below her garter belt, with satisfying smacks that rang around the high-ceilinged room. She was wiggling so enthusiastically, her hair came tumbling down in a black velvet curtain.
I made the mistake of nuzzling that soft, wild mane — and then she turned on me. Just that fast, she tucked me under her arm, facing away, and slapped the bottoms of my cheeks. Monique’s hand landed daringly close to my slit, which was surely exposed to her inspection from that angle. As my insides began to tingle as much as my butt, I yowled like a feline in heat.
‘Please, enough!’ I cried out. Yet I was laughing so hard I couldn’t stop.
Smack. Smack.
‘You’ve not had enough till Mistress Monique
says
you’ve had enough. Take this, wicked woman!’
Her fingers slipped between my folds and then dove for my hole. I immediately went hot all over and, with my rear still a-tingle and my slit begging for more, I was totally caught up in the moment’s frantic magic.
I didn’t hear the door slide open beside us.
‘Miss Eve, there’s a — Miss
Eve
!’ Fanny stepped into the room and quickly slid the pocket door shut, staring at the two of us with an alarm that wilted her usual starch-collared dignity.
‘Mrs Proffit,’ she whispered urgently, ‘I’m sorry to interrupt, but Honore Delacroix is waiting for you in the parlour. She’s here for her home visit.’
‘The nerve of that woman, showing up without an appointment,’ I whispered as I hurried into my clothes. Monique was assisting me, but in her wayward Cajun view of things, she found this enormously funny.
‘A headmistress who spanks her sissy maids might feel more welcome if we ask her to join us, Auntie Evil.’
‘None of that. I’ve got serious business to — ouch! Stop it!’ I slapped her hand away from the clit she’d pinched, hoping my words didn’t carry down the hall. ‘Round up the girls but keep them working upstairs. In case she wants to see them.’
‘Oh, she’ll want to see them,’ Monique replied slyly. ‘Any woman who dresses her young men in white panties does a lot more than
look
at them.’
With a final glance in the mirror — and yes, I looked like I’d been chasing the maid around the piano — I took a deep breath to slow my racing heart. I’d planned to be so competent and collected, with a list of questions for this dubious Delacroix woman. And yet, the disheveled redhead with the bloom in her cheeks, and her breasts rising and falling from having fun, appeared more vibrantly alive than I could ever recall.
Miss Delacroix’s opinion be damned! She was about to find out that Eve Proffit wouldn’t knuckle under to her as though the sun rose over her illustrious shoulder. This was my home, and these were my maids. I’d been brushed off by her secretary, and I was justifiably incensed at the way I’d been treated.
Straightening to my full height, I let my footsteps echo in the vestibule to announce my arrival. I paused in the parlour doorway, to take full account of my uninvited guest. She was a school marm, after all — merely glorified by her reputation among the city’s elite. Knowing how she’d humiliated Cleopatra, Cinderella and Antoinette, I had little respect for —
She was the most stunning woman I had ever met.
When she rose proudly from my couch, her gaze brazenly direct, Honore Delacroix inspired my utmost envy: no amount of coaching or cosmetics would give me her haughty height, or those high cheekbones in that sophisticated face, or that lustrous ebony hair arranged around a decadent red hat with a veil of fringe. Just enough so she could look out without others fully seeing in.
Her gown of shimmering crimson draped her body to perfection, defying decency by skimming her hips without benefit of a bustle, and accentuating ample breasts that rode high and proud. She did
not
look like a headmistress checking on her pupils’ progress. She looked like the madam of a very prosperous whore-house, come from Bourbon Street to lure me into her web of secrecy and sin.
‘Mrs Proffit?’ she asked, extending a hand sheathed in a scarlet glove. ‘Honore Delacroix. I believe you have something that belongs to me, and I’ve come to take it back.’
The voice was low and smoky, with a soft drawl that slithered like a snake. Such vipers could hypnotise their victims as they fixed them with their slanted eyes, so I reminded myself that looking too long and too closely might be my downfall.
‘I believe you’re mistaken,’ I replied, ignoring her hand. ‘I left a deposit with your Miss Sully when she refused to disclose your fee. I intended to settle this yesterday, so please — sit down while I get you a cheque.’
‘You can’t pay me for services you’re not going to receive. Oh, you
could
,’ she corrected with a subtle laugh, ‘but I don’t think you’re
that
stupid.’
I crossed my arms to control my rising temper. ‘What are you accusing me of, Miss Delacroix? You run a school for domestics, and I’ve engaged three of them. They’re working out very nicely, I might add.’
‘As well they should. But they’re not for hire, Mrs Proffit. They are my personal attendants.’
The word
slaves
came to mind, but I set aside this accusation to pursue the matter at hand. ‘If that’s the case, how was
my
personal attendant able to procure them? And no one prevented her.’
‘I run a school, not a prison,’ the headmistress replied coolly. Her camouflaged gaze mocked my rumpled skirts. ‘My girls come and go as they please, but I believe some underhanded tactics came into play. A large sum of money, perhaps. It will be refunded, of course, when I get to the bottom of this…unfortunate mistake.’
How I wanted to order this insolent creature out of my home! She was talking in circles that made no sense — a large sum of money? Three young men she discussed as though they were her possessions, bought and paid for? I knew their stories — or at least what they’d shared in brief, unguarded moments — and something inside me welled up in their defence.
‘It’s not yet public knowledge,’ I said in a conspiratorial tone, ‘but my husband, Mr Proffit, expects to be elected the next mayor of New Orleans. Surely you understand — and even take pride in — the fact that three of your charges are now serving in his home, preparing us for balls and receptions which —’
‘I understand that Annabelle, Chloe and Sylvia are somewhere in this house,’ Miss Delacroix whispered tersely, ‘and if I have to search room by room, by God I’ll find them!’
‘No need to trouble yourself,’ I retorted. ‘My maid has told them you’re here. They’ll be downstairs momentarily.’
Standing just beyond arm’s reach, scowling at each other, we could’ve engaged in a spitting match. I’d heard such laudatory remarks about this headmistress that her disregard for common courtesy shocked me. Honore Delacroix was clearly from a grittier world, where proper wives like myself didn’t venture, yet she was training maids! Supposedly teaching young ladies the finer points of domestic service, in a traditional Southern city where honest, loyal help was hard to come by.
Perhaps her brusque manner and disciplinary measures prepared her pupils for the worst they might find among future employers, but my stomach churned with her nasty accusations — as though I’d stolen something! Or bribed her secretary! She stood as judge and jury, condemning me for the sort of transaction that kept her in business.
As footsteps approached, I studied Honore more closely. Something about her seemed familiar, which was maddening, since she was the kind of woman I tried never to associate with. She enjoyed confrontation, sending poison-arrow insults to anyone who dared cross her. Assumed her reputation would excuse idiosyncrasies her clients found distasteful.
I wished I’d pressed Monique for more details about procuring the ‘girls’ in Miss Delacroix’s absence. I wished I’d quizzed the three maids more closely about their years at the school, and their relationship to this imposing woman in red. But there was no time for such questions now.
‘Shall I bring them in, Miss Eve?’ Fanny’s voice came from the doorway. My stout housekeeper also appeared to be keeping her temper tightly reined, so I could only guess what she’d endured from this headmistress before fetching me.
‘Yes, please,’ I replied.
The three maids filed in as though going to their own execution: despite short, pert uniforms like Monique’s, their grim expressions and the hands clasped at their waists gave the appearance of a final confession. Last rites.
And why was this? I glanced at Miss Delacroix to gauge her reaction — which she masked by tilting her head so the red fringe veil hid her eyes. Damn siren looked like the devil’s own mistress as she assessed their bared legs and shiny black shoes, shaking with her indignation.
‘Thank you, ladies. Please be seated,’ I said, gesturing toward the settee. ‘It seems we have —’
‘They shall remain standing. Those indecent dresses will only compromise them further.’ Miss Delacroix stepped forward, stabbing me with her glare. ‘I can’t believe the future mayor’s wife would dress her domestics so inappropriately.’
The short black uniforms were a surprise to me too, but I couldn’t admit that. My mind searched for a pithy reply — but then in strutted a masked mistress wearing a black corset with an inset of crimson leather lacings. Her bush was exposed above dark stockings gartered mid-thigh, and a pair of knee-high boots that fit like skin. Ebony they were, with insets of red leather in the shape of flames. With each step, she appeared to saunter through the fires of hell.
‘You’ve got questions about these three maids? Ask
me
, lady.’ Monique’s Cajun singsong sounded as tightly drawn as a drum head and, as she flicked a riding crop across her gloved hand, she stared boldly at our visitor. ‘Mr Lincoln freed the slaves decades ago, Miss Delacroix. Yet you
bought
Cleopatra from his mama, way back when —’
‘I don’t know who you are, or where you got your information,’ the headmistress said in a coiled voice, ‘but the circumstances of these young ladies coming to —’
‘Let’s call a spade a spade,’ I interrupted. ‘These servants are young
men
, who — mostly because of
you
— now live as women. That alone would cause quite a stir, were I to tell my friends — or the authorities! — about the deceit being carried out at the School for Domestic Endeavor! I find it quite interesting that you came here, without an appointment, to reclaim them as though they were your…
possessions
.’
Honore Delacroix’s face hardened with her anger. ‘This is none of your business, Mrs Proffit. It is between the girls and me, how I —’
‘Shall we stop talking about them as though they’re not here?’
Monique turned to the maids, who stood apprehensively before the settee, watching the volley of remarks. ‘Antoinette, Cleopatra, Cinderella,’ she continued in a friendlier tone, ‘let’s sit down, to have a civil, productive discussion. So Miss Delacroix understands you’re not going back with her.’
‘Why do you put words in people’s mouths?’ the headmistress snapped at the minx in black. ‘And speak up, you three! Since when do you go by Antoinette, and Cleopatra, and Cinderella, for God’s sake?’
The redhead in the centre smiled bravely. ‘Since we’ve been declared queens.’
‘And a princess!’ Cinderella piped up.
Disbelief dawned on Miss Delacroix’s face. ‘You’ve allowed them to rename you? After a queen who was beheaded, and another who died of a snakebite? And a fairy tale maid?’
‘Marie Antoinette was a victim of her times and circumstances,’ Toinette replied more boldly. ‘Not unlike a certain young boy wanted by the law, for setting a fire of questionable origin. Moulded and controlled by those in power. Made to behave as they wanted her to.’
‘And Cleopatra
asked
for that snake,’ our raven-haired namesake declared. ‘Rather than live as a slave, she chose a cobra — which, according to Egyptian beliefs, granted her immortality. She was a brave, adventurous queen who chose her own destiny even after she no longer ruled her world.’
The headmistress shook her head, as though three stupid sheep had gotten loose from their pen. ‘And of course you’d go along with whatever the other two did, Sylvia. How quickly you forget the advantages I’ve given you! The freedom from working as common maids —’
‘Cinderella was despised by her family. Made to perform menial labour,’ the slender blonde responded. She was twitching like a mouse cornered by cats, yet she spoke with conviction. ‘But thanks to a fairy godmother, she went to the ball. She won her prince because she wore the prettiest shoes.
And she lived happily ever after.
It’s a life I couldn’t even dream of, until I came here!’
Cinderella’s retort touched me, just as her bright smile bespoke more gratitude than I deserved. All the more reason to send Miss Delacroix packing.
‘These maids intend to stay,’ I stated, calmly watching the vixen in red. ‘You’ve received your initial deposit, so tell me what I owe to clear my account, and the matter’s settled.’
‘Not by a long shot.’
Honore stepped in front of each maid, to tip up his chin and scowl as though they’d betrayed a sacred pledge. ‘I never dreamed you’d betray me, after the
devotion
I’ve shown, and the
love
I’ve lavished upon you — as though you were my own
children
. I can’t understand —’
Cleopatra smirked. ‘You’d teach your sons to fondle each other?’
‘So you could watch?’ Antoinette added — and then her head snapped back with the force of Miss Delacroix’s slap.
Monique went to one side of the headmistress and I stepped to the other, before the fight could escalate further.
‘I’ve seen all I need to!’ I said as I ushered the headmistress to the door. ‘When Mr Proffit hears of these grossly inappropriate behaviours, he’ll have your school shut down. I’ll see to it!’
The woman in red shook me off with surprising strength, brushing her crimson sleeve as though I’d contaminated it with my touch. ‘A noble sentiment, but extremely naive,’ she muttered. ‘How would it look if Mr Proffit’s political contributors learn your maids are actually men in skirts? Consider the stir
that
will cause — because I’ll see that it does!’
With all the dignity of a European monarch, Miss Delacroix straightened her spine and stepped out the door Fanny was holding. She hailed her driver, and then turned to me with an acidic grin. ‘You’re going to be sorry we ever met, Mrs Proffit.’
‘I already am,’ I whispered as she swayed down the walk.
* * *
Inside, however, I was immediately crushed in a hug by Cinderella and her two cohorts. ‘You did it! You and Mistress Monique set us free,’ she sang out.
‘You did the right thing, missus,’ Fanny Frike chimed in. ‘Didn’t like that bitch from the minute she walked past me, like she owned the place. Said she was going to march through every room of the house, looking for these three — starting in the music room!’
Images of frisking around the piano naked, and Monique slapping my ass, made my bravado slip a notch. Thank God Miss Delacroix didn’t have
that
for ammunition! Or had she heard our girlish giggles, punctuated by the rowdy sounds of hands spanking bare backsides?
The young woman beside us, looking triumphantly feline in her black and red leather, smiled as though she knew a lot she’d never tell me.
‘It’s the boots,’ she murmured, directing our gazes along their slick, flame-kissed length. ‘Best diversion T-Jon’s ever made me. When I wear them, I
always
get my way.’