Valerie and the Bachelor Ch. 03

Valerie tried to stop him. "Hey. Wait a minute. What are you doing?"

Marcus said. "Why Valerie I thought you always paid up?"

Valerie responded. "I do. But what's the penalty?"

Marcus laughed. "I'll show you. He went underwater and started pulling her bathing suit all the way off. He came up for air with her suit in his hands. He threw her suit out of the pool over to a pool side table and chairs. He said. "Now I'm going to save you." With that he reached his arms around her, pulled her to him and started kissing her.

Valerie was sort of ecstatic, sort of scared too. This was like some adventure she might have read in a novel, a rich man with his new bride at a secluded estate. She kissed him right back.

Marcus continued to kiss her. Holding her by the back of the head, and with the palm of his free hand he rubbed her breasts, he used his fingers to tweak her nipples. He leaned down and kissed each bud. He smiled brightly at her. He thought to himself. Keep her off balance. Keep the whole thing light and easy. Keep smiling and laughing. If she starts to panic it could blow the whole weekend.

Valerie was feeling the warmth of his embrace and the pleasure of his attentions even in the cool water of the pool. She felt her insides start to moisten. But it occurred to her that she might not know what she was doing. She was naked in a swimming pool with a man who was her boss! Then again! It was Marcus. She felt like she'd known him a lot longer than the simple chronology of their relationship. See how he's smiling. This is supposed to be fun. Shit! She reflected. She'd given him her virginity the night before! What's the difference now?

Marcus took a finger and started rubbing softly against her nether lips. He inserted one finger and began to probe the inside of her maidenhood. He could feel her warmth and how moist and fleshy she was. He withdrew his finger, and using one hand pulled his swim trunks down around his knees. He deftly started to insert his penis in her womb. Like her he was thinking. The water was cool, but her insides were warm. He penetrated as far as he dared without causing any unnecessary discomfort. Her vagina was exceptionally tight against him. He knew tell her sexual experiences were few. She wasn't a virgin. He knew that from last evening. He knew she hadn't been with many men. She was small. It was tight, and felt good!

Valerie felt his finger inside her. It was like no other experience ever. A man's finger inside her while they were both in the swimming pool. This was all new to her. Then he had his manhood in her. He was large and hard. It hurt, but it had hurt the night before too. He was big, hard, and hot inside her. If it didn't hurt quite so much she's probably like it more. She'd read in a magazine that they called it intromission. It was a new experience for her. He didn't know it, but aside from the occasional vibrator and tampons, his penetration of her vagina was a first. He was the first man she'd ever had. She wondered if she should tell him.

They both pressed against the side of the pool. She pressed against the pool. He pressed against her. He inside her, and her impaled and floating in the water. There was no motion. There was no pumping, no twisting, swerving, or kicking. They were just two people completely entwined and united as one. It was one hell of a moment! It didn't last. They never do. He was too excited. She was too absorbed. He started to spurt his juices into her. She felt him pour his life force into her. He drove it in as best he could considering their unique aquatic situation and his desire to be careful. She floated in the water, impaled by his manhood, and feeling his power, and not completely sure what she should think. Then it ended. They held each other. They kissed, and then they both started to laugh. He laughed out of robust pleasure, the man, the conqueror. Hers was a nervous laugh, not quite sure if she shouldn't really be crying.

He spoke. "I better get out of the water first."

She replied, relieved. "Yes. I think so. I'm in no position to do anything."

He liked that, her reference to her own vulnerability, her helplessness. Pulling his swim trunks back up he swam to the shallow end and leaped from the pool. Walking to the table he picked up her swimsuit and asked. "And what is the lady prepared to pay for this item of apparel?"

Valerie responded her voice a little edgy. "And what is the cost of said apparel?"

Marcus answered with mock gravity. "The lady will have to bring the man great pleasure and joy after the evening meal."

Valerie realized she'd been duped, but at that moment it didn't seem to matter as much. It looked like she was spending another night at Prince Charming's Palace. "Well." She said with false modesty. "The lady will stay and do her level best to provide the pleasure and joy the man has earned."

Marcus laughed uproariously and threw the swimsuit into the water.

Valerie dog paddled to where he threw it, pulled it on, and swam to the edge of the pool to get out.

Valerie and Marcus sat at the table where Marcus used his cell phone to call up to the house for something to drink. Shortly, one of the kitchen staff brought down two plastic glasses and a pitcher of Long Island Iced Tea. Marcus and Valerie spent the next hour or so laughing and giggling as they exchanged jokes and pleasantries. About 3:30 Marcus announced he had to go inside to make some phone calls. He told her she was welcome to stay by the pool or go to the room she'd used the night before to rinse off and rest up for the evening. He smiled at her. "You said you'd stay. I hope you'll stay and help serve the evening meal?"

There was a knot in the bottom of her stomach, a clenching knot. Valerie was unsure as to which way to turn. She had hoped she'd be eating dinner with him, not play at servant again. She wanted to stay as a guest, not as a server. But she had more or less promised. She couldn't let him down. If he wanted her to serve one more time, well, what's the harm? She said she would. Together they walked toward the house, holding hands like two high schools sweethearts. Marcus felt great. Valerie felt happy, but somehow she felt like she was giving away more than just her virginity.

Valerie went to her little room and took a nap on the bed, while she slept Marcus made several phone calls. First he called his office and advised them he would be late getting to work on Monday. Then he contacted Valerie's boss in Human Relations. He spoke to Valerie's supervisor and explained that while Valerie should still be carried on the Human Relations payroll, she would be staying and working here with Marcus at his house. The work she did would be confidential in nature.

Around 6:00 the two ladies whom Valerie had come to identify privately as tormentor one and tormentor two, but in fact were Hannah and Hilda, arrived to help her prepare to serve the evening meal. What Valerie still couldn't quite fathom was why it took two women to prepare one woman, when the two could do the serving without the third woman's involvement at all. At any rate the two ladies appeared and went to work. First they completed the usual processes, the shower, the many skin creams, the eye shadow, the blush, and the lip-gloss. Valerie was, as before, even more amazed at the way the cleansing creams kept reducing the sizes of her moles and other imperfections. These she thought were some expensive creams.

They worked extra hard on her hair. For lunch they had put her hair in a loose bun. This time they took great pains to make her hair in the tightest possible bun. Instead of a casual ribbon do up they put in a tight fitting white ribbon bow with two streamers that drifted down the back of her head to the bottom of her neck. She could feel the tail ends of the ribbon on her neck, and she found them annoying. They were a persistent reminder of the presence of the bow that she thought was childish and a little degrading.

The ladies had prepared her make up and hair, but as yet no dress or uniform had appeared. One of the ladies stepped into the hall and came in with what she was to wear hanging in a clothes hanger bag. They opened the bag and extracted a small bag that Valerie soon saw contained her undergarments. First, there were the underpants. While Valerie rested one arm on one of the ladies shoulders they pulled the underpants up. The panties, or briefs, were ruffled in the back but smooth in the front. There was no elastic to hold them in place, but there were laces, one on each side that the ladies drew tight and tied off in neat bows at the top. When they finished her panties felt tight and uncomfortable. They squeezed her too tightly at the waist. Valerie wondered if this was what women used to have to wear before elastic, buttons, and safety pins had been invented. She didn't have too much time to ponder the underpants as the ladies pulled another item of apparel out of the container. This second item was a tight fitting corset, a formfitting undergarment with uncomfortably tight cups for her breasts that only provided support for the underside of each breast the material only reaching just below each nipple. It was held together by several almost microscopically small clasps that went down the front. The corset pulled her already small wasp like waist even tighter, and made it hard for her to take a deep breath. Next came the dress, or more accurately uniform.

The outfit was black, as black as anything she'd ever seen or worn. It was made of a sturdy silken looking material. They slipped it through her arms, and using a button hook, they buttoned up the dozens of buttons that held her in it. She couldn't see the buttons. They were in the back, but she bet there must have been fifty of them considering how long it took the ladies to get them done. The collar at the top of the dress was brilliantly white, peter-pan style, about three inches in width, and of the stiffest and most heavily starched material she'd ever worn. The collar fit tightly around her neck, and was so stiff and unyielding as to be immediately uncomfortable. She felt it. The surface felt like silk, but silk so heavily starched as to be resistant to all but the most determined attempts to bend or reshape it. Valerie wondered how she would ever make it through the evening with anything like this around her neck. The ladies buttoned the cuffs of the uniform at her wrists. She looked down at the cuffs. They were also incredibly tight, bright white, made of the same silken substance, and just as stiff and unyielding as the collar. The wrist cuffs, were like the collar, about three inches in width. The uniform skirt extended down to just above her knees. Still short, but the longest of the outfits she been expected to wear thus far. It was pleated like everything she'd worn, but these pleats were large, perhaps two inches, and stiff. When she moved they made a perceptible rustling sound that she found distracting.

Asking Valerie to sit down the ladies each put a pair of black stockings on her legs. Her stockings, like the ones from the night before, went all the way to her crotch, and they were held in place with adhesive that affixed the material to her skin. The stockings were tight, and as uncomfortable as everything else she had on. Accompanying the stockings was another pair of black shoes with what looked like three-inch heels. They were the highest of heels thus far worn, but they were still modest by most standards. The shoes were tight, had black bows on the front near the base of her toes, and buckled at the ankle. The buckles were black. The shoes pinched her toes. They hurt, especially since the pedicure, even before she stood up.

The last thing that went on was an apron. It was a smallish wrap around; white and stiff like the collar and cuffs. The ladies tied it off in a big white bow in the back.

The last thing the ladies did was to ask Valerie to look herself over in the mirror. Valerie looked, and was amazed at her almost complete transformation. The prior evening she was a guest in a maid's uniform. For lunch today she wore something that could only be described as being like a uniform. Tonight she was a full-fledged honest to god, one hundred percent pure maid. No one looking at her could ever doubt that she was a maid, or that she might have always been a maid. Looking in the mirror she thought she looked marvelous, but in a way she found humiliating and degrading. Pretty yes, beautiful certainly, but in a demeaning subservient style.

She twisted and turned in front of the mirror. The tight collar, tight cuffs, disarming trails of the bow in her hair, the swish of the skirt all made her feel self conscious The uniform and the way it displayed her body was beautiful. This was a self-appraisal, at first exhilarating but followed by a most profound feeling of apprehension and a deep and ominous disquiet. Looking herself over in the mirror, her beautiful self, her now matchless complexion, her magnificent coif, her perfectly made doll like face, her shapely even statuesque legs. But it was all with the appearance of a maid. She wondered if she wasn't psychologically and emotionally being transformed into a maid. Someone else's thing! Valerie considered it. Was she a maid? Was that what she was cut out to be? The message in the mirror was undeniable. She cringed, then thought better of it. No. She told herself. After tomorrow she'll go home. She'll become Valerie the Human Relations Officer again. Valerie the maid will be a part of her past, a part of a singular weekend that ended when she went home. No she reminded herself. She was Valerie the professional. Valerie the servant did not exist, except for this single weekend with and for Mr. Burke.

Valerie smiled at the two ladies. "As before, you've done a beautiful job. Thank you. I only hope I can still please our boss Mr. Burke."

One of the ladies responded. "Oh thank you. You're the perfect specimen. You make the perfect server."

The second lady chimed in. "I agree you're perfection personified. You look like a living doll. Mr. Burke is going to love you. I'm sure of it."

Their words were meant to be pleasing but in fact they were very disconcerting. She loved the thought of being told she was pretty, of being pleasing her employer, but she wasn't quite sure that being a maid was the way she wanted things. She thanked them, as they walked with her down the hall toward the dining area. Valerie was confused, out of sorts. She wished she could be a part of the group gathering to eat, participating in challenging discourse, being listened to and giving valued opinions, but at the same time she was interested in making Marcus, that is Mr. Burke, happy. If pretending to be a maid, or server, or waitress made him happy, then she would pretend. She knew one thing. He loved her. If being a maid for an evening fertilized that love, then she wanted to be whatever he wanted her to be.

As they walked into the dining room the two ladies disappeared. Valerie was, once again, left to her own devices. As she started to make her way to the kitchen to get her instructions for the meal, Marcus appeared.

Marcus saw Valerie coming into the dining room. He wanted to tell her how wonderful, how natural she looked. He went over to her. "Valerie, I think you look like perfection this evening. I've never seen you, or anyone for that matter, look so stunningly beautiful. You're adorable. If this wasn't an important social gathering I'd cancel it and I'd have you for dinner." Taking her two hands in his he stepped back a little and gave her a thorough appraisal. "Look at you." He said. "Your shoes, your nylons, the shape, length, and style of the dress. They're perfect for you. I love your apron. It's the cat's meow. Look how the dress enhances your delicious waist. Your hair, your face, I dream about people like you. You are a fantasy, my fantasy, come true. I love the look of your collar, it' so white, it sets off the delicate beauty and color of your face. And the cuffs only enhance the beauty and delicacy of your sweet hands. I'm in love. You can't be real. You're a mirage." He leaned forward and kissed her on her lips. It wasn't a sexual kiss. She thought it was a warm, tender, loving, kind of kiss.

He said. Spin around for me."

She spun around. The short pleated dress whirled up around her waist.

"Spin around again." He ordered.

Valerie spun a second time with the same result.

"Poetry in motion! You're like a beautiful doll, a beautiful porcelain doll. I'm in love." Those were the things Marcus said.

Valerie stood there, spun there, and listened to the splendid things Marcus, her wonderful Marcus, was saying about her. Marcus was in love with her, she knew it. He'd even said it. Deep down inside she had this intense feeling he was falling head over heels in love with her. She didn't know exactly when she felt he started to fall in love with her, but she knew it had to be true. She listened to his comments, his praise. It made her more self-conscious. Her professional poise was being obliterated, but her emotional well being was nourished. He was in love with her just as she was right now. She couldn't think of anything better, at least at that particular moment, than being a maid, a serving girl, his maid, his serving girl. He called her his porcelain doll! She thought. He loves the way she looks, and it wasn't just because she was a maid. He was in love her inner being. She was beginning to believe that. His kiss on her lips only confirmed her powerful feelings. It was a warm kiss. It was a love kiss. When she kissed him back, she only hoped hers conveyed the same massage.

Marcus thought to himself. He loved the look and the manner of this young woman. He hoped he would able to encourage her to stay longer. She fit in so well just this way. He had already cleared the way for her continuance by calling her supervisor. Now he had to find a way to convince her. She was what he wanted. The thing he desired right now.

The dinner began with drinks. Most of the guests, there were eight of them, opted for something hard, but the woman named Rosalind chose a white wine. Valerie wondered why the woman kept watching her. She felt like she was some kind of object, like a dog at a show. Following the drinks and the always available cheese and crackers the guests retired to the dining table.

Valerie continued in her new role by bringing everyone an appetizer. There were three appetizers to choose from. One could select mushroom caps filled with crab, chicken wings, or tiny crab balls. Most people selected the crab balls, but two chose the mushroom caps. Valerie was careful when she served making certain she placed everything on the correct side, and to keep out of peoples' way as they drank, talked, and ate. Like her everyday job, Valerie's job tonight was to be as invisible as possible.

Following the appetizers everyone was given the option of soup or a salad. Most people chose the salad. It's what she would have chosen if she had been a guest and not a server. Valerie's job was to get the salads on the table and also see to it that the proper dressings were near the people who wanted them. Valerie was successful in getting the soups and salads out. Everything was going as she had been instructed.

As the people finished their soups or salads it was Valerie's job to clear the plates, and then come back and inquire as to what entrée each wanted. There were three choices of entrée. The guests could opt for prime rib, roast chicken, or lobster. Most chose the lobster.

By the time Valerie got to the delivery of the entrées she was beginning to feel a sense of ennui. It occurred to her that, while she was helping all these other people eat, she hadn't eaten since early in the day. Valerie hoped she could get through the rest of meal without any mistakes.