13-03-2019, 04:51 PM
Slave to My Indian Maid Ch. 03
It was 11 pm, and a hot Thursday night to boot. I closed the door to my room and lied down on my bed, and started to think about the last three very unusual weeks of my suddenly unusual life. In those last three weeks I had been punished several times by Rashida. That would be OK if I was a little boy and Rashida was my mother or aunt or nanny, but I was eighteen and Rashida was my maid servant. A normally obedient and suppliant domestic servant who suddenly had no qualms taking me -- the son of the master of the house -- by the ear and giving me a severe punishment. The last such incident had been four days ago.
It had been a lazy Sunday afternoon, with my parents away on some party, and I was feeling particularly hungry. I had a cricket match in the morning and had skipped lunch. Upon returning home, I had immediately taken a bath. Even during that activity, I was mindful of Rashida's clear instructions, and cleaned myself as she had ordered me to. Then, after dressing myself, I headed for the kitchen.
Where are the maids, I thought, as I walked into an empty pantry. We were expecting some guests in the evening, so Rashida must be busy cleaning the house here and there, but at least Rubina should have been in the kitchen, preparing food.
Rubina was our younger maid. She was around my age -- eighteen. But this was India, and it was the luck of the draw that I was born to a privileged family and she was from a poor upbringing. So she was now working as our maid, taking orders from Rashida, the senior maid, as needed, and generally being a useful little thing around the house, while I would go off to university and be a big shot later in life.
I noticed some pastries on the table in the kitchen, covered in a transparent wrap. They were probably for some guests later in the evening. And they looked really tempting.
"Oh, no one will miss one." I thought, as I started to take off the cover. "I am so hungry."
That was when Rashida and Rubina had both walked in.
"Baba!" Rashida was astonished. "What are you doing?"
"I ... uh... I was hungry ..."
"Did I not tell you that whenever food is covered in a wrap, Tarek, they are not to be touched?" Rashida rebuked me. "You silly boy!"
"Yes, bua. I am sorry." I answered, my eyes staring at the floor.
"It's a simple instruction, Tarek." Rashida was angry. "Don't touch food covered with a wrap. This food is for guests, and we made a specific amount only."
"Yes, bua. I am so sorry."
Rubina was watching our exchange with what I can only term as curious amusement. Here was I, the master of the house, apologizing to my maid, and she was scolding and rebuking me like a little child. A small smile played at the corner of Rubina's lips. She must not also have failed to notice that Rashida was calling me by my name, Tarek, rather than the respectful "baba", which is what the maids usually used.
"Rubina." Rashid turned to the younger maid. "Can you go and make the beds in the master bedroom and in baba's bedroom? Make sure there's fresh towels in the toilets as well."
"Er ... yes, apa."
Rubina seemed a little surprised with this sudden instruction, but she immediately turned around and left. I thought I saw a gleam of amusement in her eyes as she exited. Rashida then turned back to me.
"Why do you always fail to listen to instructions, baba?" Rashida asked me. "Now you must be punished. Stand with your face against the wall!"
"Bua ... I ..." I hesitated. It was in the afternoon, and Rubina could be back any minute. Besides, my parents could also be back at any time.
"Baba, that will cost you extra punishment." Rashida stated matter-of-factly. "How many times have I told you that once I say something, I expect you to obey it AT ONCE!"
"Yes, bua. I just thought that Rubina ..."
Rashida walked up to me. Her voice was cold and firm.
"Stand with your face against the wall."
"Yes, bua." I resigned myself to the punishment I was about to get.
I braced myself, face against the wall, my hands flat on it, propping up my body, with my back to Rashida. My plump maid servant walked over to stand behind me, her hands reaching around me and unbuckling the belt on my trousers. Her hands then reached down and and worked my zipper. As she unzipped me, my penis immediately sprang free from its confines. Rashida wrapped her fingers around my manhood.
It was 11 pm, and a hot Thursday night to boot. I closed the door to my room and lied down on my bed, and started to think about the last three very unusual weeks of my suddenly unusual life. In those last three weeks I had been punished several times by Rashida. That would be OK if I was a little boy and Rashida was my mother or aunt or nanny, but I was eighteen and Rashida was my maid servant. A normally obedient and suppliant domestic servant who suddenly had no qualms taking me -- the son of the master of the house -- by the ear and giving me a severe punishment. The last such incident had been four days ago.
It had been a lazy Sunday afternoon, with my parents away on some party, and I was feeling particularly hungry. I had a cricket match in the morning and had skipped lunch. Upon returning home, I had immediately taken a bath. Even during that activity, I was mindful of Rashida's clear instructions, and cleaned myself as she had ordered me to. Then, after dressing myself, I headed for the kitchen.
Where are the maids, I thought, as I walked into an empty pantry. We were expecting some guests in the evening, so Rashida must be busy cleaning the house here and there, but at least Rubina should have been in the kitchen, preparing food.
Rubina was our younger maid. She was around my age -- eighteen. But this was India, and it was the luck of the draw that I was born to a privileged family and she was from a poor upbringing. So she was now working as our maid, taking orders from Rashida, the senior maid, as needed, and generally being a useful little thing around the house, while I would go off to university and be a big shot later in life.
I noticed some pastries on the table in the kitchen, covered in a transparent wrap. They were probably for some guests later in the evening. And they looked really tempting.
"Oh, no one will miss one." I thought, as I started to take off the cover. "I am so hungry."
That was when Rashida and Rubina had both walked in.
"Baba!" Rashida was astonished. "What are you doing?"
"I ... uh... I was hungry ..."
"Did I not tell you that whenever food is covered in a wrap, Tarek, they are not to be touched?" Rashida rebuked me. "You silly boy!"
"Yes, bua. I am sorry." I answered, my eyes staring at the floor.
"It's a simple instruction, Tarek." Rashida was angry. "Don't touch food covered with a wrap. This food is for guests, and we made a specific amount only."
"Yes, bua. I am so sorry."
Rubina was watching our exchange with what I can only term as curious amusement. Here was I, the master of the house, apologizing to my maid, and she was scolding and rebuking me like a little child. A small smile played at the corner of Rubina's lips. She must not also have failed to notice that Rashida was calling me by my name, Tarek, rather than the respectful "baba", which is what the maids usually used.
"Rubina." Rashid turned to the younger maid. "Can you go and make the beds in the master bedroom and in baba's bedroom? Make sure there's fresh towels in the toilets as well."
"Er ... yes, apa."
Rubina seemed a little surprised with this sudden instruction, but she immediately turned around and left. I thought I saw a gleam of amusement in her eyes as she exited. Rashida then turned back to me.
"Why do you always fail to listen to instructions, baba?" Rashida asked me. "Now you must be punished. Stand with your face against the wall!"
"Bua ... I ..." I hesitated. It was in the afternoon, and Rubina could be back any minute. Besides, my parents could also be back at any time.
"Baba, that will cost you extra punishment." Rashida stated matter-of-factly. "How many times have I told you that once I say something, I expect you to obey it AT ONCE!"
"Yes, bua. I just thought that Rubina ..."
Rashida walked up to me. Her voice was cold and firm.
"Stand with your face against the wall."
"Yes, bua." I resigned myself to the punishment I was about to get.
I braced myself, face against the wall, my hands flat on it, propping up my body, with my back to Rashida. My plump maid servant walked over to stand behind me, her hands reaching around me and unbuckling the belt on my trousers. Her hands then reached down and and worked my zipper. As she unzipped me, my penis immediately sprang free from its confines. Rashida wrapped her fingers around my manhood.
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