Manor Maid Punished Publicly Ch. 02

*2 months ago*

Rising from his bed groggily, Harvey rubs his head, a small migraine already forming thanks to Belle's music, playing loudly from the room next door. He looks at his bedside clock, 6:40 AM. He shuffles into his slippers, making his way downstairs after knocking a few times on Belle's door, warning her to turn it down.

Walking downstairs, he is met with the aftermath of Belle's all-nighter. Food was left out on the coffee table, and dishes piling up in the kitchen. He paces around the manor frustratedly, getting more and more riled up as he inspects the rooms. Muttering under his breath and grumbling, he took a look outside, noticing no laundry on the line for the second week in a row. He shakes his head, gritting his teeth as he stirs his coffee, gazing around the filthy kitchen. 'What the fuck did she even do in here last night?' He asks himself.

As he stands there, sipping his coffee and stewing in his anger, he realises Belle's music is still blaring from upstairs. Being the last straw, he slams his mug on the countertop, storming upstairs. He first stops at Belle's office, peeking in to see much of the same. Dishes, food, trash. His face reddens with anger. He provided these spaces to her so that she could thrive. He bought every piece of equipment in that office, and seeing it disrespected like this cuts him deep.

Slamming the office door shut, he stomps to Belle's room, knocking again. He has never entered her room without her letting him in before. He allows that space for her as a safe space. It's hers, and hers only. He contemplates entering, weighing up the pros and cons in his mind. She had a cleanliness issue before they met, though he quickly snuffed that out once she came under his care. If this is her falling back into old habits, it's his responsibility to correct it.

Bursting the door open suddenly, he strides across the room to her music player, ripping the plug out of the wall. The silence allows him to take a moment to look around the room. There are even more dishes hiding in here, and in the corner, a laundry pile taller than he is. His eyes dart around the room in a mixture of awe and disgust, finally coming to rest his eyes on Belle, sitting cross-legged on the floor, painting. He notices immediately that she hasn't protected the carpet, staining it with various paints. The sight engulfs him in flames, rage bubbling over as he strides over to her, grabbing her upper arm hard and yanking her to her feet.

"Wha- Hey! I'm busy here!" She pulls against him, managing to wriggle out of his grip on her bicep. She stops, looking up at her master. His expression is dripping with fury, brows furrowed and eyes dark. The sight of him looking at her like this strikes fear into her heart, making it beat rapidly in her chest.

"If you're going to behave like a dog, I'll fucking treat you like a dog." He rapidly grabs hold of her ponytail, turning towards the door as he drags her along behind him. Her arms fling up to her scalp, bracing her hands against her tender head as he yanks and pulls her downstairs. She dared not say anything, only a few whimpers and hisses as his pace quickened, stopping in the kitchen. He lets go of her hair, folding his arms across his chest. He stares at her expectantly.

"...What?" She says, dumbfounded.

"What? What?!" He bellows, resuming his grip on her hair. He pulls her over to the sink, shoving her head down into it, pushing her face hard against a dirty plate. "You need me to rub your fucking nose in it? Like a dog?"

She squeezes her eyes shut as she braces herself against the sink. Shame washes over her as she feels the old, wet food sticking to her cheek as he pulls her up, guiding her to the living room. Again, she's bent over and her face is pushed into more dirty dishes. He holds her there as she struggles against him, making sure to rub her face all over the plate.

"You will clean this shit up today. ALL OF IT!" He commands, throwing her to the floor. He leans down, pointing his finger at her face as he talks down to her. Tears start to well in her eyes at the sight of her master in such a rage. Knowing it was her negligence that did this to him.

He disappears upstairs leaving Belle in a mess on the living room floor.

After some time, Harvey reappears downstairs, he's dressed in elegant tailored trousers and a dress shirt, with a long brown coat, briefcase in hand.

"I'm going into the office. Won't be home until 7." And with that, he shut the front door behind him. The sound of the lock latching finally breaks the dam in her eyes. Tears flow freely as she sobs on the floor, silently cursing herself for letting this happen. Before too long, she gathers herself together, feeling a wave of inspiration and motivation wash over her. She was going to clean this house from top to bottom. Absolutely and completely spotless. The thought of the pleased look on Harvey's face when he returns home is all she needs to spend the next 12 hours meticulously cleaning.

On his way to work, Harvey decides to make an emergency text to his best mate, Tom. Tom also has a submissive, so perhaps he could shed some light on where Harvey went wrong. He spends the morning at his office in the city, approving various projects and sitting in on executive meetings. A text from Tom pulls him out of his current meeting. Excusing himself, he goes into the hallway to read it.

'What'd I tell you? You've gone soft in your old age. Come over I have some ideas to solve your little issue.' Harvey scoffs at the message, resenting his friend for calling him old. Disregarding the jab, he smiles down at his phone.

***

"I don't know, man. She just doesn't seem to be that bothered." Harvey shrugs his coat off, hanging it up along with his hat and scarf. He starts down the hall after Tom, stopping in his studio space.

"You need to correct the behaviour. This is exactly what she came to you for." Tom responds, pulling a cigarette from the box with his teeth, and offering Harvey one.

"I know that, Tom. It's just been a while. She's been so good but then suddenly... She's not." He takes the cigarette, shaking his head slightly as he reminisces on Belle's previous behaviour.

"Have you considered that this could be a cry for help? She's pushing you to punish her. It's clear she's gagging for it." He lights his cigarette, pulling in hard and shaking the lighter, handing it to Harvey. Harvey lights his own, leaning against the door frame. He stays silent for a moment, contemplating Tom's words. Is that really what she's doing? Acting up more and more until I finally punish her?

"Have you not noticed a gradual change in behaviour? Or was it just BAM.. y'know?" Tom asks, cocking an eyebrow inquisitively. Harvey remains silent, deep in thought as he recalls the events of the past month. The realisation dawns on him as he remembers Belle's recent incidents.

"She started swearing again." He scoffs, tearing his eyes away from Tom's, not quick enough to miss Tom shaking his head, smirking smugly. Taking a deep drag of his cigarette, Harvey runs his hands through his hair frustratedly, regretting his inability to notice this pattern sooner. He glances around the studio, fabric strewn over the workbench in the centre of the room, dress forms lined up on the left side, and racks of garments on the right. He watches as Tom approaches the racks, pushing the clothes apart and looking through each one.

"Here." He pulls out a long, black dress. It has a petticoat, puffing the dress out slightly. Ruffles outline the décolletage, tiny buttons running from the top of the turtleneck, down to the hem. It is reminiscent of an 1800's servant dress, with some added flair. A perfectly white apron covers most of the front. It is frilly along the hem, held up thick by criss-crossed straps, tied in a bow that rests just above the beginning of the skirt.

"Punishment should fit the crime. Let her know that you're done being soft" A wicked grin is forming on Tom's face, spreading to Harvey's as both men contemplate the possible outcomes. Imagining how Belle would look in the dress makes Harvey shift his stance, feeling an uncomfortable pressure building in his tight trousers. He clears his throat, reaching out to feel the fabric.

"I'm taking this." He confirms, stroking the soft fabric and admiring the detailed stitchwork.

"This is the original. I have an order coming in next week, if you decide you need more." He says, winking and taking another drag, He pulls the dress from Harvey's grip, placing it in a dress bag and zipping it up.

"Set her straight, Harv." Tom's words ring in his ears, a devilish smile painted across his face as he commutes home. He didn't think he'd be looking forward to returning today.

***

The sound of keys in the door alerts Belle to her master's presence. She hurriedly folds her washcloth up, placing it perfectly in line with the sink. She then rushes over to the bar cart, putting scotch straight on ice, just the way he likes it. She sets it down on the side table, straightening it so the square glass is in line with the small stack of books beside it, and buffing her fingerprints off the side. She moves to the other side of the armchair and kneels, putting her hands neatly in her lap and bowing her head.

Harvey sets his keys down in the hallway, walking casually into the living room. He stops when he sees Belle kneeling beside his chair, eyes glued to her folded hands. He glances over the room, noting the spotless carpet, dusted skirting boards and the ice-cold glass of scotch waiting for him. He smiles genuinely as he walks over to the chair slowly, a certain swagger about him as he sits, taking the glass and swirling it around in his hand.

Belle sits patiently and nervously, wondering why he hasn't said anything yet. She starts to fiddle in her lap, anxiously waiting for him to speak. Her heart catches in her throat as she feels Harvey's hand placed on her head. Little tears prickle in her eyes as he strokes her head silently. Her emotions have been at a high all day, the first gentle contact of the day breaks her.

"I didn't expect you to get everything done in one day, considering the absolute state of it all." His voice finally breaks the silence, firm and direct.

"I'm really sorry Sir. I don't know why I left it so long, I know I shouldn't have. It won't happen again." She says quietly, her eyes still focused intensely on her hands.

"No. It won't happen again," he confirms. He rises from his seat and retrieves the dress from the hook in the hallway, presenting it to Belle. She looks up at the dress, looking over it curiously.

"That's pretty, where'd you get it?" She says innocently, shifting from side to side as her knees start to ache.

"Tom." The mention of Tom's name sends shivers down her spine. She's been threatened with 'sending her over to Tom's' a few times before. He lays the dress over the back of the other armchair and approaches Belle still kneeling on the floor. He takes her head in his hands, tiling it upwards to meet her eyes with his.

"Darling. I want to apologise to you, sincerely." he kisses her forehead, chuckling at her confused expression. Sighing and flopping back into his armchair and placing his hand on her head again. "My job is to guide you in such a way that allows you to achieve the best version of yourself. I have not seen the best version of you for a while." Belle averts her eyes, looking into her lap yet again. His words sting, knowing deep down he is right.

"You came to me for help in the first place. The only reason you should falter is if I am the first to drop the ball. I've gone soft." he admits, vulnerability and regret soaking his words. He takes a swig of scotch, hissing in pleasure as it glides down his throat.

Belle shuffles around so that she is kneeling directly in front of him, placing her hands gently on his spread knees. "You haven't gone soft, Harv." Harvey's eyes dart to hers at the use of his name. He smiles genuinely at her as she tries to comfort him, stroking his knee with her thumb.

"You are just the sweetest little thing." He says lovingly, reaching out to stroke the side of her face, she leans into it. She loves these moments with him. Their day-to-day is that of a relatively normal couple. The only difference is that Harvey takes a much more active role in every aspect of her life. Belle goes to college, and runs her own pottery business from home, both were pushed by Harvey. He knew her well, knew what she was capable of, and knew what her dreams were. She feels slightly lost after he retracts his hand, opting instead to lean over, placing his elbows on his knees and interlocking his fingers. Their faces less than an inch apart.

"Not to worry, my girl. I intend to correct my behaviour, as well as your own." He smiles sweetly at her, watching her reactions closely as he lays out his plan. "Starting with reinstating your chore chart. I know you didn't like that because of the embarrassing questions you'd get from guests but you've demonstrated your inability to operate without it." He pauses, listening to Belle's quickening breathing. "Secondly, you'll take on my side of the chores too. Including cleaning my bedroom and en-suite."

She nods, understanding that the punishment for dirtiness would obviously be more cleaning. "Yes, I understand. Thank you, Sir" She starts to lift herself up, intending to go put her chore chart back on the fridge.

"Not so fast." He gestures for her to kneel back down. "I said I was no longer going to be so soft on you. And I mean it." She slowly kneels back down, nodding in understanding as he continues. "In addition to cleaning up after me, you'll clean up after guests. Anyone who enters this house is your duty. You will get them whatever they need, serve drinks, and food, take coats, and remove shoes."

Belle is shocked by his new demeanour, struggling to believe him. Is this a prank by Tom or something? He visited him today, maybe he's hiding around the corner listening and snickering...She tries to think of an excuse to get out of it, opening her mouth to speak.

"Don't." He says in a warning tone, lifting one eyebrow as he stares into her eyes intensely. She shuts her mouth, scared of the look he gave. "You're off college now for 4 months. Only 1 of them will be spent like this if you're on your best behaviour. I expect you'll be busy with your new duties most of the day. Spare time is to be spent on your pottery." He states matter of factly. Belle nods slowly, deeply regretting her recent grabs for attention. The dress starts to make sense, she pieces it together in her mind. She likes the dress, it's beautiful and elegant. She can't wait to wear it for him.

***

Weeks go by without a hitch. The house remains tidy and clean, Belle cleaning every single day since their talk. She starts her day by making her and her master's beds, boiling the coffee pot, and cooking breakfast, waiting for Harvey to get out of the shower. Two days into their new arrangement, the dress proved way too hot and heavy to be cleaned in daily. Harvey compromised and allowed her to wear her own clothes, reserving the dress for guests.

"Darling." Harvey appears in the arched kitchen entryway, a towel wrapped around his waist. Belle turns to him, stunned into silence by the sight. His built torso glistened in the early morning sun pouring in from the window. His hair stuck to his face, framing his sharp features flawlessly. Her mouth begins to water, filthy thoughts filling her mind as she smiles wickedly. She rounds the kitchen island, reaching out to run her fingers over his firm chest.

"I'm having friends over in 30 minutes. You remember your duties?" He asks her, placing his hand over hers, still resting on his chest. Belle snaps her head up, looking at him with a confused expression.

"I didn't think you were serious! You can't be serious!? I'm not parading myself around in this get-up in front of complete strangers" Belle laughs, withdrawing her hand to wave it around dismissively.

His demeanour changes instantly, towering over her as his face changes from neutral to furious. "I am dead fucking serious." He swiftly balls her ponytail up in his fist, dragging her over to the front door.

"You'll stand here. Greet them. Offer them a drink. Get it?" He commands through gritted teeth, unable to stand any more disobedience.

"I'm not doing that.." She says shyly, avoiding eye contact. Her heart beats hard in her chest at the thought of serving anyone other than her master, in such a humiliating outfit no less. The dress was beautiful but symbolic of her status in the home. It tells everyone in the room exactly what her place is, and she hates the thought of such humiliation.

"You have a safeword. Use it." He challenges, knowing that deep down, she's enjoying this. She doesn't know it yet, but her panties are already soaked through. She stays silent, standing there head down and hands interlocked neatly in front of her. "Didn't think so." He teases, releasing her and retreating into the living room.

Harvey relaxes in his chair, reading the morning newspaper as he awaits the arrival of his guests. The doorbell rings loudly through the home. Harvey remains in his relaxed position, waiting for Belle to walk them through. 40 seconds pass, and the doorbell rings again.

"Oh, you stupid, stupid girl." He mutters to himself as he slams his newspaper down in anger, pacing over to the front door, and welcoming them in.

***

Belle sits upstairs in her room, her ear pressed against her door as she listens to the conversations downstairs. She curls her knees up to her chest, hugging her legs close to her for comfort. 'Fuck. What have I done? I panicked! They knocked and I didn't want them to see me like this. I'm so embarrassed. Fuck fuck fuck.'

Belle is ripped from her thoughts as she hears the front door open, and voices become clearer as they exit, coming to stand below Belle's window as they say their goodbyes. She hurries over to it, peeking out just enough to see them get in their cars and drive away.

The sound of the front door slamming shut so hard it shakes the walls making her jump and yelp in shock, quickly covering her mouth with her hand. She stands there frozen in fear, watching the door to her bedroom, waiting for it to burst open. minutes pass with no sign of her master, so she resumes her spot on the floor, listening for any noise at all. Nothing.

Hours pass. Belle opens her eyes, blinking away the fuzziness. The room is dark and silent. She looks around confusedly, blinking her eyes hard to focus on the alarm clock on her bedside table. MIDNIGHT.

"Holy shit. Fuck. FUCK." She stresses to herself as she clambers to her feet, brushing the wrinkles out of her clothes. What happened? Where is Harvey? She slowly turns the handle, stepping out into the dark hallway. She looks both ways, searching for any sign of her master. His bedroom door is wide open, a sight that strikes fear into Belle. He never leaves his door open to sleep. He's still awake. She makes her way down the stairs slowly and silently, stepping on only the floorboards she knows for a fact don't creak. She sees a dim light emanating from the living room, she takes a deep breath as she approaches.

As she rounds the corner she sees Harvey, cigarette in one hand, and a book in the other, reading glasses sitting low on his nose as he turns the page. She watches as he closes his book and folds up his glasses, placing them both neatly on the side table. He slowly pushes himself up, leaning over to put his cigarette out. He starts toward Belle, looking directly at her as he approaches, like a predator circling prey.

Her heart rises, beating faster as he stalks towards her, eyes dark and jaw clenched. It soon falls to her stomach as he passes her, continuing down the hall. She turns and follows him obediently, knowing exactly what is about to happen. She follows him until they reach his room, she sits herself on his bed as he moves to the wardrobe, pulling a box off the top shelf and blowing the dust off the lid.