Sprite's Respite

1.

I nearly fainted at the words.

"Hello Bill." Mr. Lamar Jamal Henry had said.

We stood staring at each other in stunned silence. All thought seemed to have stopped in my brain. I was only aware of the heartbeat drumming sound in my head and the swirling tempest in my stomach.

Suddenly, I was painfully self-aware--acutely conscious of the vision I presented: a man he once respected standing in front of him transformed into a feminized sissy, wearing a bright yellow French Maid uniform, pink high heels with prominent large breasts nearly bursting out of her bodice.

Finally, he spoke again. "Are you going to let me in?"

Regathering my wits, I wordlessly stepped aside and let him into the house. We continued to look at each other like mutual circus sideshows. Well, to be fair, I was as close to a circus sideshow as one could get. A chill ran up my spine and I couldn't stop my hands from shaking. I couldn't tell if the look in his eyes was disgust... or fascination.

He towered over me--if he wished me harm, I could not resist, nor would I get very far in these heels if I ran. I really wanted to run.

"Are you going to say something?" He asked, his eyes searching mine for some kind of recognition.

My body thrumming like a tuning fork, I relied on my training. With a shaky curtsy and my eyes firmly on the floor, I whispered. "W-welcome Sir. P-please let me take you to my Mistress." If I could have disappeared in a puff of pink smoke, I would have gladly taken that option.

Before he could respond, I turned on my heel and, with faltering steps, worked my way towards what was hopefully the safety of Mistress. I didn't even look behind me to see if he followed.

I stepped into the den and saw Mr. Stone... on his knees? Mistress sat regally in a wingback chair, her legs crossed and leaning forward. Even casually dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, she exuded sensuality and power. By the look on her face, if she'd been a dragon, Mr. Stone would've been nothing but smoldering ash.

Both of my sisters sat together on the couch like two children witnessing an argument between adults. Their eyes wide. Like watching a three car pileup, they couldn't look away.

Cherry had joined Miss Josephine by the other wingback. I could tell that Cherry was on high alert. Her military training and experience kept her primed for action if necessary. I don't know if our new guests noticed her, but I could tell by the set of her shoulders that she would not let anyone get out of line. Miss Josephine carried an air of nonchalance but her eyes betrayed her.

"What the FUCK did you think you were doing?" Mistress's voice was like hardened steel. "How many times have we talked about exposing Sprite only on MY say so?"

"I know Sweetie, I was really an accident! He was--"

"Don't you Sweetie me, you bastard. That kind of shit doesn't just happen." Her eyes were blue fire.

"No, really!" Mr. Stone pleaded " He was lamenting some problem with his software and how he really needed to speak to Bill, and it just came out!"

From behind me, Mr. Henry spoke. "Listen Mrs. Boston, It really wasn't--" Mistress held up a perfectly manicured finger, cutting off his words.

"That's Ms. Miller, and I will get to you when I am ready." She didn't even look in his direction.

Mr. Stone held his hands up and together in supplication. "It really was an accident, Brenda. I brought him here right away. I have even sworn him to secrecy. He just needs to talk to Bill. He really needs his help."

Mistress's eyes narrowed as she leaned forward even more. "Bill. Isn't. Here," she said through clenched teeth, her voice low but razor-sharp.

Mr. Stone nervously looked in my direction. With a single finger under his chin, she turned his face back to hers--firm, unyielding. "Don't look at her. You are talking to me."

"Look, I know Sprite isn't Bill anymore--but Bill is still in there, and he can help Lamar. He has to."

"I really do need his, or her help Ms. Miller." Mr. Henry interjected. Then he directed his words to me. "Bill, or Sprite, please let me tell you the problem."

"Don't talk to her, talk to me." Mistress's voice was like an ice dagger. "What is your problem?" her cold blue eyes seemed to bore right into his heart.

"Well, see..."

"No! Fuck that!" Mistress said as she stood. "It's too late to be dealing with this shit tonight."

She looked at Mr. Stone and pointed toward the door. "You need to leave."

"And you," She regarded Mr. Henry. "Come back tomorrow in the daylight and I might hear what you have to say."

Mr. Stone regained his feet and started towards the door. Cherry was quick to get ready to let them out. He turned back and asked Mistress. "Can I call you later--just to talk?"

Mistress looked like a snake, ready to strike. "Hell no! I will call you when I am damn good and ready, if ever. Now get the fuck out of my house."

Cherry opened the door and closed it firmly behind them after they sulked their way out.

There seemed to be a collective sigh after Cherry engaged the lock on the door. Mistress stood in place, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. Finally, she turned her attention to me. Her eyes still showed that cold fire I had learned to respect and fear.

By reflex, I curtsied and blurted, "I'm Sorry Mistress!" My body was back to vibrating like a tuning fork.

Her face softened. "Oh Precious!" she came up to me and took my face in her hands. "None of this is your fault, My Darling!" She kissed me on the forehead, calming my nerves.

Well, other than creating this whole situation.

Stepping back, she said "But, now we have an issue that we need to figure out."

Mistress Anna spoke up. "Is Sprite going to be alright?"

Mistress gave her a wry smile. "Of course, Sweetie." She returned to her seat and settled in. "Tomorrow we will find out what the issue is and go from there."

Returning her attention to me, "I think you need to get some rest, Peanut. Go on to bed, and no need to dress like a maid tomorrow. You can wear civilian clothes."

"Yes Mistress." I curtsied to the group and made my way to the maid's quarters, pretty sure sleep would be a long time coming.

2.

I woke to the feeling of someone stroking my head. I opened my bleary eyes and saw a blurry vision of Mistress. She was pulling stray strands of platinum curls away from my face and humming a soft tune.

"Good morning Princess." I heard her say. Her voice was soft and light. Slowly my vision cleared, giving a clearer view of the love of my life.

She had obviously recently woken up herself. Her auburn hair was held up on top of her head by a couple of hair sticks. Her face was makeup free, giving her a fresh, innocent look. She was wearing a pink silk robe that still showed off her wonderful cleavage.

Both my heart and chastity burst to life. Even fresh out of bed, she was incredible.

"Mmmm... Mistress?" I murmured, still rising out of my slumber.

"Time to get up, Sleepyhead." still stroking my head. She spoke in a sing-song manner. She leaned down and kissed me on the forehead "I want you to get ready for breakfast, Sweetie."

"Oh!" I tried to jump up so that I could get dressed and start cooking ASAP, but she laid a hand on my shoulder, stopping me.

"No, Pumpkin!" She said as she guided me back onto the pillow. "There is no rush. I am giving you the day off today!" Her eyes twinkled in the morning light. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. I was just hoping you would join us for breakfast."

I had no idea how to react. "I don't understand, Mistress."

She smiled and started tapping my chest with an index finger as she said. "I, am, giving, you, the, day... Off! Cherry is going to handle the chores again today. All rules are suspended. You can wear what you like, but please stay pretty. You can use the furniture, and you can eat and drink what you want. No meal bars for you today"

Wow! No rules, no service, no chores? I had trouble wrapping my head around the idea. "But, why Mistress?'

Her crystal blue eyes, which could convey so many emotions. They could show her ire, her rage, her iron will, her approval, and so many others, today showed love and humor. "Because I said so." She said with a smile.

"Also, we are expecting a visit from Lamar... or is it Jamal?... Henry today and I need you to be there as an equal... of sorts, not a maid in the background."

Thinking about yesterday's confrontation, I wondered what I could do when he showed up. "Do you need my safe word, Mistress? So Bill can discuss it?"

"No, Sweet Pea. Let's find out what he is looking for and we will go from there. Ok?" She stood up from her seat on the edge of the bed. "Now, what do you want for breakfast?"

"Eggs and bacon?" I asked hopefully.

She wagged a finger at me. "Ah-ah! You know we are vegan for our guests."

I thought for a moment. "I guess whatever Cherry makes will be wonderful, Mistress."

"Excellent! Ok, go ahead and wear something cute and join us when you're ready." With that, she glided out of the maid's quarters, her ass doing wonders with that silk robe and my chastity.

Before she reached the door, I called after her. "Mistress!" She stopped and turned back to me. "I love you, Mistress!"

Her smile lit up the room and my heart. "Oh Darlin', I love you too!" I could have melted through the bed, pure bliss!.

I watched her leave, the sway of her hips a hypnotic rhythm. As soon as she was gone, I buried my face in the pillow and let out a squeal. A day off! What was I even supposed to do with that?

3.

I chose forest green, my fitted knit shirt that showcased my cleavage and the little skater skirt that went with it. Of course matching lingerie underneath it with black hose and black patent leather stilettos. It was one of my favorite outfits. I looked hot and it complimented my platinum curls. After adding earrings, a gold locket, and some bracelets, I ventured my way to the kitchen.

I entered the kitchen to find Cherry busy preparing the morning meal. I saw oatmeal and what looked like banana and blueberry pancakes. It all smelled delicious, and on this day I got to have some!

"Do you want some coffee, Sprite?" Mistress Anna asked. She stood next to the counter grabbing the urn, wearing a jean miniskirt, tight pink sweater, nude hose and black stilettos. She looked almost as delicious as the pancakes.

"Yes please." I answered with my customary curtsy. I was surprised when I caught Mistress Emily out of the corner of my eye. She advanced on me with a purpose that had me stepping back out of fear.

"Stand still for a minute." She reached out and hooked her finger through the ring of my collar and pulled me closer. I started to worry because I had forgotten to clip on my leash before leaving the bedroom.

Without speaking, she fiddled with my collar and produced what looked like an allen wrench. She slipped it into a hidden slot and turned until the clasp gave way. The collar loosened--and just like that, she slid it from my neck.

My breath caught. I stared at it in her hand--this thing I'd only ever seen in the mirror, wrapped around my own throat. It was the first time I'd been without it in weeks.

A strange flutter welled up inside me. The absence felt like both a loss... and a breath of freedom.

She did the same for the eternity bracelets, leaving me totally free. When she was done, Mistress Anna handed me a mug of coffee and pulled out a chair from the breakfast nook table.

"Have a seat, Sis." she said, her tone gentle.

The chair beckoned me, but I wasn't sure. I hadn't been allowed on any of the house furniture in months. My heart thudded in my chest. I fiddled with the hem of my skirt as I stared at it. Why was I so nervous? It was just a chair! But half of me wanted to drop to my knees out of habit, instinct... submission.

But Mistress was giving me a day off. Rules suspended, she said. You can use the furniture, she said.

Would she be disappointed if I rejected this gift? I didn't want to test that theory.

"Thank you, Mistress Anna," I said softly, and took a seat, carefully smoothing my skirt beneath me as I lowered myself.

I glanced around the room, a bit self-conscious, half-expecting to be reprimanded--but no one said a word.

Wait... I could even call my sisters by their names?

No. That was too far, I think.

Mistress Emily sat in the chair next to me She was wearing jeans, sneakers, and a white sweatshirt with the blue seal the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill.

Go heels, I guess.

Her eyes squinted in humor "You aren't the maid today. How does that feel?"

The answer was easy. "Weird, Mistress." I said.

Her eyebrows scrunched together "You don't have to do the 'Mistress' thing today. It's just us sisters having breakfast."

My breath stopped and I could only stare at my younger sister.

"Us sisters" she said, without her usual sarcasm or sneer. I wanted to hug her.

Instead, I took a cautious sip of my coffee. My youngest sister remembered how I liked it. The combination of acrid, creamy, and sweet taste brought back so many memories of late nights coding and trying to build the business and life that I eventually gave up to live as my wife's servant.

"Don't forget the wife!" Mistress came up behind me, placed her hands on my shoulders, leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. "You look wonderful, my lovely." She said, "Just the right look for our meeting today."

She was dressed in a loose beige sheath dress that came to her knees with bare legs and brown sandals with a low heel. She wore light makeup and her hair was pulled back in a French braid, exposing her swan-like neck. Even though her scent of roses filled my nose and activated my chastity, her sexiness was somewhat toned down, if that was even possible.

"I agree! I love your look, Sprite." Miss Josephine followed behind her, She was dressed in a black "Queen" band t-shirt tucked into lavender jean shorts. Her petite but shapely legs ended in white tennis shoes with cute little ankle socks. She was cuteness personified.

"Mistresses, Breakfast is ready. If you will all move to the dining room please." Cherry announced. Everyone started heading in that direction.

Except me... I wasn't one of the Mistresses, was I?

"C'mon Munchkin!" Mistress called from the dining room. I rose and went to grab a plate or two to take with me.

Cherry swatted my hands away. "Please have a seat Miss Sprite." She said with a smile and a wink.

I took my coffee cup and found my place next to Mistress. Soon Cherry was placing our meals in front of us.

As she set Mistress's and my plates down, I looked up at her. "May I have some apple juice, please?"

Cherry curtsied. "Yes Ma'am. Coming right up!"

I barely had time to savor my first bite of pancake before a cold dewey class of apple juice was placed in front of me.

"Here you are, Ma'am." I thanked her as she went around the table ensuring we all had everything we needed.

Breakfast was wonderful. The food was perfect, but the company made it truly special. It had been so long since I was allowed to eat anything other than my carefully portioned meal bars, save for the occasional reward. And sitting here, at the table, with my family instead of serving them--it felt surreal. Almost too good to be true.

"Thank you so much, Mistress," I murmured between bites, hoping my eyes showed my appreciation. "What do you want me to do when Mr. Henry arrives?"

Mistress grinned, that wicked sparkle alive in her eyes. "You just sit and look pretty, Sweetheart. Let me do the talking."

4.

The rest of the morning was... weird.

I felt this anxious energy as I watched Cherry clean up after us. I tried to chip in, but she would have none of it. "Go take a rest, Miss." She admonished, "I will take care of everything."

"Isn't my sweetie wonderful?" Miss Josephine opined with a wide grin as Cherry brought a round of iced teas for us. I could only nod my head in agreement.

The couch was soft and comfortable.

It had been months since I'd made use of it--cleaning, yes. Sitting? Never. I had to force myself to partake in its luxury, my heart pounding as I waited for the proverbial other shoe to drop. Sitting on Mistress's furniture felt like eating off the Queen's plate.

Mistress reclined in her usual spot: the wingback chair. Regal, relaxed, composed. She looked every bit the sovereign waiting to grant an audience to her subjects.

Which, in a way, she was.

After a while, the edge dulled. My breath slowed. I crossed one leg over the other and joined the others in watching some mindless talk show on TV. Something Bill wouldn't have had the patience for--and apparently, neither did I. The voices grated, the fake laughter irked. Still, I stayed quiet, demure.

Then the doorbell rang, and I jumped.

Mistress held out a calming hand, eyes still on the screen, as Cherry went to answer the door.

Enter: Mr. Henry.

He was a large, heavily muscled beefcake of a man. The kind who looked like he belonged on the cover of a bodybuilding magazine. Broad shoulders, smooth bald head, chest like a stone wall. Everything about his appearance screamed raw physicality.

And yet, much like the co-creator of the Underworld film series, his physical presence belied a razor-sharp intellect. You'd never guess by looking that he was one of the rising titans in the world of software. But I knew. I had once shaken his hand as an equal.

Now... not so much.

He stood at the entrance of the den, probably waiting for an invitation to sit. None was forthcoming. All of my Mistresses and Miss Josephine had taken all of the available seating and no one made any attempt to move.

Mistress lounged easily in her chair. "What do I call you? Is it Lamar, or Jamal?" Mistress asked.

Mr. Henry, CEO, boardroom leader, Ted Talk presenter, seemed to have trouble meeting her gaze. He fiddled with his hands as he answered. "Both are my names, I answer to either."

"Fine." Mistress replied. "Say your peace." Her eyes started to show her growing impatience.

He held up his hands like trying to keep an attack at bay. "First, please don't be too cross with Mark, I really drew--"

Mistress held up a finger, cutting him off. "I will deal with Mark as I see fit. Now, What is your problem that only Bill can fix?"

He looked in my direction and I tried to remain as demure as possible. Turning back to Mistress, he said words that had Bill squirming deep below.

"It's the source file. One of my programmers somehow got access to it and corrupted it. We need Bill, or Sprite, to come fix it."

Her eyebrows came together, "Don't you have a whole team of programmers that can fix it?"

Mistress was not overly technical, especially when it came to software programming. Bill instantly understood.

"Well, each programmer has their own idiosyncrasies when it comes to software development. Since Bill created the file from the bottom up, only he could make sense of it." Mr. Henry tried to explain.

"Isn't it all the same programming language?" Mistress asked, her eyes narrowing with the first hint of real curiosity.

"Well, yes," he admitted, "but think of it like regional dialects. The syntax might be the same, but Bill's style--his logic, his architecture--it's unique. Maybe even encrypted in places. And frankly... I think he built in some traps. Every attempt we've made to fix it just made it worse."

A silence settled. All eyes flicked toward me.

I stayed demure, lips closed, posture perfect. But deep inside, I could feel Bill smiling.

"I'm sure Mark has explained our relationship to you?" Mistress asked.

"Oh yes. Mark made it clear that I was to only talk to you, that you were in charge." He looked in my direction. "I don't judge and I will not tell anyone anything about it. I swear."

Mistress looked at me, a question in her eyes. "Sprite, do you think you could fix his problem?"

"No Mistress."

Mr. Henry's eyes widened. I could see all of his hope draining away.

Mistress smiled, the approval clear in her gaze. "Why is that, Pumpkin?"

"I am not allowed to use computers, Mistress."

His confusion was palpable. He was speechless.

"Of course, not unless I allow it, right Munchkin?" Mistress asked.

"Yes Mistress."

Mr. Henry implored Mistress. "Listen, this is the foundation of everything. Bill's software has become the main infrastructure of my company. I can make this worth your while."

Mistress uncrossed her legs and recrossed them, showing a hint of creamy thigh. She leaned forward a bit with a small grin. "And how would you do that, Mr. Lamar?" she asked.

He brought his hands together as if in serious thought. "I can pay you three million dollars for your help."

Mistress looked like she had just bit into a lemon. She knew that amount was just a drop in the bucket compared to what he paid Bill for the software originally. If his whole company was at risk, he would surely be willing to pay more.

But money was hardly a concern for Mistress. She had more than enough to last lifetimes and she was not the greedy sort. God knows, she had stuck by Bill's side when he had nothing to offer. It was one of the reasons I loved her so much.

"Oh, Mr. Henry..." she purred, raising an eyebrow. "Three million dollars?" She tilted her head. "Do I look like a woman who's desperate for pocket change?"

"Of course I can go higher. Really, I'm willing to do anything." The desperation was evident in his voice. This was far removed from when we sat across each other at the negotiating table.

Mistress pondered for a moment. "I don't think there is anything that I want from you, Lamar"

She leaned back into her chair. "I will think about it. Leave me your card and I will call you." her dismissal was clear.

Mr. Henry stood there with his mouth agape. He tried to form new words, but nothing came out. Finally, he stepped forward and handed a business card to Mistress, then Cherry escorted him out.

"Holy shit!" Mistress Emily exclaimed, bouncing in her seat. "I want to learn how to have billionaires begging like that!"

5.

Mistress decided to treat us all to lunch. Cherry agreed to take care of the chores while we packed ourselves into Mistress's car. Miss Josephine sat shotgun while I was sandwiched between my sisters in the back.

I enjoyed the feeling of being with my sisters until I felt fingers on either side digging into my ribs.

"Aaaahh!" I jumped followed by giggles from both sisters. They knew how ticklish I was.

Then they did it again!

"Mmmmph!" I tried to stifle my reaction and keep composure, but they were unrelenting. I had no way to escape my torture. This had the effect of making my face red and my chastity scream. I could barely breathe!

My squirming drew the attention of Mistress as she drove. "Don't give her a heart attack before we get to the restaurant." She admonished.

Mistress Emily giggled again. "You should have seen the way she tortured us when we were kids!" then she ribbed me again.

Well, guilty as charged, I guess.

Mistress Anna laughed, leaning into me. 'Looks like the tables have turned, Big Sister.' She emphasized that last part as she dug her fingers into my knee, sending a thrill up my spine.

'I was a child!' I protested weakly, trying to shield myself with my arms.

'And now you're a sissy maid with bigger tits than us. Some glow-up, huh?' Mistress Emily winked at me, digging into my ribs again.

"Don't mess up her makeup." Mistress said with a knowing smirk. I knew it wouldn't be long before my eyes teared up.

My sisters finally relented. I spent several moments trying to regain my breath and composure while warily trying to keep my guard up in case they continued. I don't know why, but my arousal was through the roof.

Mistress pulled into the parking lot of her favorite Mexican restaurant. As we walked in, she took my hand and murmured in my ear, "You can order what you want, Princess, no need to be vegan."

I was instantly enthusiastic. My mind danced with all the possibilities--nachos, burritos, enchiladas. Mmmm... enchiladas. I could practically taste them already.

We definitely made a splash with our entrance. Four stunning women and one very feminized sissy in heels? Heads turned. I caught more than one jaw slacken as we glided past.

Even though it was midday, the restaurant had a dark, intimate ambiance. Soft lighting bordered the dining area and lit candles were the focus of the table's centerpiece.

The pretty Latina hostess guided us to our table, and within seconds, a waiter placed a basket of chips and a bowl of salsa in front of us. I dipped a chip, took a bite--and sighed in satisfaction. They passed the Salsa Test.

That little tradition went all the way back to the beginning of my relationship with Mistress. One of our earliest dates was at a Mexican restaurant. We'd just sat down, ordered iced tea, and the chips and salsa arrived. I was browsing the menu when she declared, without a shred of doubt:

"I'm not eating here."

I blinked, startled. "Why not?"

"The salsa is crap."

That was the first time I learned about the Salsa Test. According to Mistress, if a Mexican restaurant couldn't get its salsa right, the rest of the food would be a disaster.

That night, we roamed the city together, hunting for another place that met her standards. Eventually we found one. It passed. It became our place.

Now... It's Her place.

On other occasions, with a group, we would end up at a place that did not pass the test, and the food was definitely sub par.

I learned to trust the Salsa Test.

And now, whenever chips hit the table, I still pause, taste, and think: Does it pass the test?

Looking over the menu, I felt like a child in a candy store; so many choices, but I could only pick one.

My mouth watered when I saw they offered a combo fajita with steak, chicken, and shrimp. I couldn't resist. After months of meal bars--tasty, sure, but hardly gourmet--I was on a mission.

I just hoped my stomach wouldn't rebel.

The first bite was heaven. The rich blend of sizzling meats, spices, and grilled veggies danced across my tongue. I was halfway through assembling my second fajita, humming in delight, when I noticed... silence.

Everyone was staring at me.

Mistress had one hand over her mouth, hiding a smirk. Mistress Anna looked like she was seconds away from laughing out loud. Even Miss Josephine gave me a raised brow over her margarita.

And that's when it hit me.

In my eagerness, I had completely abandoned my manners. I wasn't being ladylike.

Hell, I wasn't even being sissy=like. I was attacking my food like a starving linebacker in five-inch heels.

I set my food down and put my hands in my lap. "Sorry Miss." I said sheepishly.

Mistress smiled, her eyes sparkling with reflected candlelight. "Don't let me stop you, Rosebud," she said. "This is your day."

Could she be more beautiful?

I resumed eating, this time trying to be more dainty in my actions--well, as much as one could be with food designed to be eaten by hand. The meal was delicious, and everyone certainly enjoyed themselves. When we finished, Mistress paid the bill and we all piled back into her car.

Settling into the driver's seat, she turned toward us. "Want to tour a mansion?"

Eight confused eyes stared back at her.

"Mary's having an open house for a twenty-million-dollar estate," she clarified with a grin. "Want to take a look?"

The decision was unanimous. Off we went!

The mansion was massive and imposing as we rolled up the circular driveway. Six-foot-tall hedges ringed the property like private sentinels, and vibrant flower gardens lined the path. An actual valet was on hand to park Mistress's car as we climbed out--heels clicking against the stone like we belonged there.

Guests milled about inside, admiring marble floors and gold-trimmed light fixtures. I was struck by the sheer opulence of the place. It was breathtaking. It was intimidating.

Mistress could easily write a check today and we'd be moving in tomorrow. That thought alone sent a ripple of panic through me.

This was a lot for one sissy maid to keep up with.

Would I ever be allowed to swim in that massive backyard pool? Probably not. I'd just be the one cleaning it.

Ms. Lawrence greeted us as we made our way further inside. Her blonde hair tumbled in soft, luscious waves over her shoulders. She wore a beige tweed bodycon dress with decorative pocket accents that stopped mid-thigh. Her shapely legs were bare, her feet encased in silver strappy stilettos.

As Mistress and Ms. Lawrence exchanged cheek kisses and familiar conversation, I had to wonder...

Did they coordinate their outfits on purpose?

They looked so elegant, so in sync. Like supermodel goddesses. Onlookers would surely think they were sisters. I could stare at them forever.

Ms. Lawrence was gracious and pleasant. She even gave me a warm hug when Mistress told her it was my day off.

"It's almost time for you to come by the house, Sprite." she whispered in my ear. "I really want to spank that bottom again."

I had to be careful not to curtsy in public. I could only stare at her smug expression and feel the blush rising in my cheeks.

She led us around the estate, pointing out features and amenities like a practiced tour guide, every gesture polished and poised.

Mistress, to my increasing dread, seemed more and more intrigued with every room we visited.

Mistress Emily, of course, couldn't resist. "Wow, Sissy... imagine scrubbing these floors," she whispered in my ear, a wicked smirk playing on her lips. "Your work would never end."

I shuddered at the thought.

Of course, if Mistress chose to buy this place, I would follow her here. I would follow her anywhere.

Miss Josephine was like a ball ricocheting off the walls. She flitted from room to room marveling at everything that caught her eye. I couldn't help but smile at her childlike curiosity and energy.

The tour seemed to take hours. Near the end, Mistress Anna had started holding on to my arm for support, that was when she wasn't being talked to by half the eligible bachelors exploring the estate.

Mistress Emily's glare kept most of them at bay, although there were several showing interest.

As we were finishing and heading back to reclaim the car, Mistress Emily wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"It's a good thing this is your day off, Sis," she said with a grin. "Otherwise, I'd have you massaging my feet the second we got home."

I glanced down at her sneakers, brow furrowed. Of the five of us, she was one of only two wearing sensible shoes.

Honestly? I wished I had someone to massage my feet.

As we settled back into the car, Mistress flipped through the glossy flyer Ms. Lawrence had handed her. I could practically hear the gears spinning in her elegant, calculating mind. And I could definitely feel the chill creeping down my spine.

She caught my eye in the rearview mirror. "What do you think, Pet?" she purred. "Ready to serve in a stately manor?"

I think my nervous tremble answered her before my mouth could. How does Alfred do it?

Mistress chuckled, rich and warm. "Don't worry, Pumpkin. I love our current home. Besides..." she smirked, her voice wicked, "that place is way too much for one maid."

Her eyes twinkled. "I'd need at least two."

6.

We returned home and started relaxing in the den. Miss Josephine kicked her feet and requested foot rubs from Cherry, who wasted no time in pulling off her Mistress's sneakers and massaging her arches. The expression of joy on her face made the rest of us jealous.

"Sprite, do you think you could help out?" Mistress Emily asked. Before I could respond, Mistress corrected her.

"Hey now!" she said. "This is Sprite's day off. She should get her feet rubbed along with the rest of us."

"I would be happy to take care of all of you." Cherry volunteered as she concentrated on her task.

We all sighed in unison. I would love to experience a massage after hours on my heels. My feet were usually sore after a day's work.

Mistress and Mistress Emily quickly removed their shoes to get ready.

"You know, you can take your shoes off, Anna." Mistress Emily told her sister.

Mistress Anna looked down at her feet. "No rush, Emily, I can wait until Cherry gets to me."

Mistress Emily's eyes narrowed. "I don't see why you need to wear heels all the time anyway."

"I want to look nice." My youngest sister responded. "You would look nice too if you dressed up once in a while. You have such nice legs."

Mistress Emily smirked. "I am a freaking Mistress, Anna. I can wear whatever the hell I want!" she said. "I don't get why you dress like that all of the time. I never see you wear pants anymore."

I could see Miss Josephine and Mistress becoming more interested in my sisters' discussion. They exchanged looks and then gave rapt attention.

"Brenda inspires me." Mistress Anna said. "I like how she dresses."

Mistress raised an eyebrow and the corners of her mouth started to rise. Miss Josephine pulled her foot out of Chery's hands and leaned forward, a guarded but expectant expression on her face.

I know I could hardly peel my eyes away from them.

"Bullshit!" Mistress Emily exclaimed. "Even she isn't dressed to the nines all the time like you are."

Mistress Anna looked down at her lovely legs poking out of her miniskirt. "I like it." she said quietly. She seemed to shrink into herself.

This seemed to excite her sister even more. " I swear to God, Anna, you dress more like Sprite than you do Br--"

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped like she was putting pieces of a puzzle together. Mistress Anna continued to stare at her skirt. Mistress Emily's expression changed from realization and astonishment, to determination.

She rose from her seat and stood in front of her sister. They locked eyes for several moments until Mistress Anna broke the stare and looked back down at her skirt, twiddling the hem with her fingers.

Mistress's knowing smile became even more pronounced. Her eyes danced in anticipation, waiting to see what happened next.

Mistress Emily glared at her sister. She then pointed to the floor and spoke words that made my heart stop.

"On your knees!"