The Return of Jennifer

Mistress Alexia

jennifer, my utterly useless, worthless slut of a maid had been granted leave because of her housemaid's knee. I was therefore surprised to receive a telephone call only a few weeks later.

She enquired about my health, discussed the weather and other such pleasantries.

Slut, stop drivelling and get to the point I barked.

It was then that she gingerly approached the subject of returning to service. Had her housemaid's knee miraculously healed, had she missed the sting of my crop, the feel of my ropes? Her answer was a very sheepish Yes to all of these.

Not satisfied with her response, I probed a little deeper.

What else, Slut?

Mistress, I miss you and want to come back! Not good enough, there was more to this than she was letting on.

Well slut, I am not sure I need you. The boi has proved more than capable of tending to my unreasonable demands and I have been having quite a lot of fun without you.

Yes, Mistress, so I see from your articles

Ah, the slut was jealous! Not only was she worried that she was rapidly losing her place in my household. She was overwrought at the possibility that she might be consigned to the oubliette with those dismissed from my service. How touching; I almost felt my mean old heart melt (not).

Thus it was arranged that she would attend for service on Saturday at 11:00 am.

The doorbell rang at exactly eleven oiclock and I expected to open the door and find the lady from Betterware or the Jehovah's witnesses on the doorstep. I was astounded to find Jennifer standing there with an enormous bouquet of my favourite white lilies. She was keen!

I sent her upstairs to get changed and could not believe my eyes when she presented for inspection in less than five minutes. The make-up was passable, the black maid's outfit perfectly pressed and she was wearing slutty black fishnet stockings instead of the dreary old tights that she had previously favoured.

This was too good to be true, Jennifer ready in less than half an hour! It was as I went to fasten the padlock on her collar that I noticed the hair. Matted and tangled like old carpet felt, Jennifer was sporting dreadlocks at the back of her head.

You, untidy, scruffy tart - How dare you attend for service with hair that would put Wurzel Gummidge to shame?

She whimpered as I dragged the brush the tangled straw she called hair. I was not amused. Oh no, this was not a good start. Then to add to my fury, I saw that she had a rip at the back of her dress. The temptation to repair it with surgical needles and parts of her anatomy was overwhelming.

Get out of my sight you stupid slut! I demanded as I took a long deep breath and sent her to the bedroom to commence her duties.

Once I had composed myself I went to check what she was up to, she was making the bed and the look of concentration on her face reminded me of a contestant in Mastermind. To my astonishment, she had not stripped the bed but was merely pulling the covers up with pillows already in situ.

I yanked the sheets from her hand, tossed the pillows to the floor and in my softest voice enquired what had happened.

Jennifer, is this sorry mess the result of the years spent under my training? I said in despair.

I, don't know what you mean Mistress, I was just taking a shortcut, then she started giggling uncontrollably.

That was it, enough! I stormed out of the room and returned with a lunging whip and some rope. I tied one end of the rope around her ankle as a tether and fixed the other end to a point over by the window. I used the crop to administer directions as she started to make the bed again.

I used a ruler to measure the fold on the sheet it was three centimetres out. I stripped the bed and she started again n a few strokes of the crop ensured that in her next attempt the sheet was folded back equally at each side. However, she was still giggling and this was unacceptable.

Next I ordered her to do the dusting and as I could not bear the sound of her inane giggling I gagged her, for good measure and to test her power of concentration I also cuffed her wrists. She seemed to be doing quite well under the circumstances and I thought she was feeling rather smug with herself. Not for long, a blindfold saw to that.

I gave her 15 minutes to complete the task to my satisfaction and stood by watching as she tried not to damage my precious collection of object d'art A slut in a predicament - how fun!!

By the time she reached the wardrobe she seemed to be finding it all too easy. I spun her around a few times and laughed as she polished air.

I could see that getting Jennifer back into shape was going to take some time and as they say, Rome was not built in day.

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