I spat out gum onto the carpeting in my office and ground it into the floor with my shoe. I then leaned back, crossing my arms.
The blonde ex-receptionist ran in on tiptoes, her 4" black heels keeping her off-balance. She was wearing her French maid uniform. It consisted of a cleavage-baring black minidress with white trim and apron, black stockings held up by a garter belt (with a natural expanse of bare thigh between stocking and hem), and a separate black collar around her neck. She daintily held a feather duster in her hand.
"Daphne, there's gum on my carpet."
"Oh, no!"
"Daphne, accent," I reminded her.
"Zut allors! C'est terrible!" she squealed in her awful but sexy French accent. "I swear it was not there this morning."
"Clean it, Daphne."
She tiptoed over and crouched.
"No, Daphne," I spoke sharply. "Proper girls bend at the waist."
"But Monsieur Morris!" she protested.
"Do you want to go to prison, Daphne? Do you want me to call the police right now? We are doing you a favour by even letting you be here, slut."
"Oui, Monsieur Morris. Please do not call, non."
Your French maid straightened her legs and bent delicately at the waist. You walked around her as she attack the gum with the handle of her feather duster. The view up the silly slut's skirt was delicious. She had the perfect apple ass, and the peach of her pussy lips showed through her pink panties.
You put your finger on her panty-clad pussy. "What is this?"
"Monsieur Morris?"
"Why are your panties pink? We were quite clear in our requirement for you to wear only black panties."
"I am so sorry, Monsieur Richards. All my black panties are in the wash."
"Then you should be wearing no panties, you dumb thieving slut."
"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "Pardonnez moi."
"Take them off and come suck my cock by way of apology, and I might not call the police on your dumb ass." |