Message-ID: <32131asstr$998500204@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: "Taoman" X-Original-Message-ID: <9ltset$960$1@slb6.atl.mindspring.net> X-Server-Date: 21 Aug 2001 14:50:05 GMT X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2479.0006 Subject: {ASSM} rv: Lisa, My Uncle's Maid 01/10 {Mf,nc,bd,oral,anal,spank,femdom} Date: Wed, 22 Aug 2001 13:10:04 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, newsman LISA, MY UNCLE'S MAID By Taoman WARNING: STRONG ADULT CONTENT. NO MINORS! Lisa, My Uncle's Maid copyright Taoman. The right of Taoman to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights and Patents Act 1988 AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Bill Morgan for his valuable editorial assistance. Chapter One In my family my uncle had always been an enigma. I was told during the Depression, while still a teenager, he had left home and "went on his own". His later rare reappearances, which had occurred at family funerals, were always unexpected. I remembered him from these events, as well dressed, cultured and seemingly very well off. It was at my mother's funeral, his sister, that I had my first discussion with him as another adult. I was eighteen then and with her death I was all that remained of his immediate family. He questioned me regarding my academic status and seemed to have some awareness of my many accomplishments. He approved of my plans to pursue a career in law. I had told him I had applied to several schools including Harvard. He informed me of some connections in Cambridge and that he could "pull some strings" to possibly speed the process. Several weeks later I received my acceptance letter. Later during my college years he also provided me with a generous allowance. This income ensured I never lacked for money. I had a suspicion that his influence had been involved behind the many grants and scholarships that came my way. Then on my graduation I found keys to a late-model sports car and his card under my door at the fraternity house. When I called him with my profuse thanks he laughed and told me to visit him. He said he needed to go overseas for a period of time and needed someone to stay at his home. I agreed as I had no pressing summer plans and a great curiosity regarding my Uncle. It was 1952 and a fresh New England spring morning. The new warmth in the air hinted of the approaching summer. I was driving south from Boston to New York City. I had the top down and I was pushing my new Mercedes 190SEL to it's limits. Both my parents had been casualties of the war. First my father had been lost in one of the first B-24 bombing runs over Germany. His body was never recovered and the same could be said for my mother. She mourned herself to the grave. Her grief was so profound that her will to go on with life slipped away. She had been unable to face the world without my dad. I had come home from school and found her curled in bed. I thought she was sleeping until I touched her cold arm. Then I noticed the empty bottle of pills on her night side. It seemed as if I had been sad all my life. I had buried my own grief and loss in my books. The past years had been bleak and the prospects of new happier days of promise and opportunity seemed just over the next horizon It was mid-afternoon when I reached the city and it took another hour to locate the address. It was on the Upper East Side on a quiet tree-lined side street. The building itself was an unassuming brick four story that blended in with the other apartments and commerce in the neighborhood. The small brass plate on the door read THE MANHATTAN CLUB and then below in smaller prints A GENTLEMEN'S SOCIETY. I opened the door and entered another world. The small lobby was furnished with several straight back chairs and a counter. I felt myself being observed and I was suddenly conscious of my attire with consisted of a bright undocked Hawaiian shirt and worn khakis. A distinguished looking elderly man in a butler's uniform was peering at me over the top of his spectacles. "May I help you, Sir?" he asked politely, but coolly. I handed him my Uncle's card and he peered and it. He lifted his bushy eyebrows and again looked at me. Then he smiled and his demeanor changed. "Welcome to New York City, Mr. Whitlock. We have been expecting you." He unlocked a heavy door behind the counter and indicated I was to follow him. This passage entered into a wood paneled hallway with yet another heavy door at the far end. There was a small opaque window at eyelevel, which my guide peered into. There was a buzz and the door swung open. We entered a spacious room. As my eyes become accustomed to the subdued light I realized the great size of the place. Considering the height of the ceiling and the length of the floor it would be possible to play full court basketball in the space. An ornate old-fashioned carved wood bar ran the nearly the full length of one wall. I heard the snick of a cue ball and noticed several pool tables highlighted by islands of light. There was a low murmur of voices and I determined there was a dozen or so men either playing pool or sitting at the bar and tables. There was an aromatic mixture of cigar smoke and old leather. The thick carpeting muffed our footsteps as we padded across the room. Several well-dressed men at the bar turned and smiled at me as we passed. I nodded in acknowledgment. I wished I had worn a suit. We stopped at the far end of the bar and my guide fit a key in a sliding panel, which opened to a small lift. He stepped aside and motioned for me to proceed, "Your uncle is expecting you." The elevator rose smoothly and I counted three floors then the doors slid open to steps which led to a large living room. The room was dark paneled and richly furnished with heavy plush furniture. There was a roaring fire in stone fireplace. My uncle was seated in a chair by the hearth. He arose, smiling, and crossed the room. We hugged and he warmly told me how good it was to see me and how pleased he was of my accomplishments. He said my mom and dad would have been so proud of me. We sat by the fire, drank brandy and talked for several hours. We discussed the war, my parents, school, Eisenhower and my future. I was fascinated to hear another worldview, which was diametrically opposed to what I had been taught at Harvard. Finally he changed the subject and told me he needed a big favor. He had extended overseas business to attend to and he needed me to stay at his apartment and oversee his domestic concerns. I modestly told him I had little business acumen, but he waved my protestations aside and told me there was no experience really needed. He smiled and said I would find the assignment actually quite enjoyable. He noticed the brandy decanter was empty. "Let me introduce you to my house servant, Lisa" he said. Reaching over to a side table he picked up a small silver bell and rang it. There was a silence and then I heard a hissed `no" from an out of-sight hallway. My uncle shook his head and sniffed in disdain. "I apologize. She is not happy with my new choice of apparel. With your arrival I am afraid I had to implement a crude means of persuasion," he stated. . He opened a drawer under the table and motioned for me to come closer. I leaned forward in my chair. The drawer swung open to reveal a hidden electronic apparatus. "This equipment was made for me by a German scientist now working for the US government. He owed me a favor," he said. My uncle flicked a toggle switch and there was an immediate electronic hum, the panel glowed and several glass enclosed needles pegged across clock-like meters then settled at different readings. "This controls the amount of voltage", he instructed. He turned a large knurled knob and the hum changed tone and the meter's readings flicked and rose. "The entire apartment is enclosed in an electronic field," he explained. I was puzzled by were this was all going, but I nodded as if I understood. "This button releases the shock," he said simply. He pressed a red button and immediately I heard a high-pitched female squeal. "Lisa, come...now" my uncle said in the direction of the cry. I was taken aback by the appearance of a beautiful young woman hurriedly emerging from the hall. She had the olive complexion of the Mediterranean with a full luscious mane of black hair falling to her shoulders. Her dark green eyes glared angrily at my uncle as she clicked across the wood floor in her high heels. She stood before us and I was very impressed. She was the most beautiful girl I think I had ever seen. She was dressed in a classic French maid's uniform. But my Uncle had evidently had it tailored to his taste. The uniform was cut in a fashion that any housekeeping duties beyond the bedroom would be impossible. The tightly fit laced d**e9**collet**e9** amply displayed her large bulging up-thrust breasts. The frilly lace that wisped across her deep cleavage only just covered the brown of her aureoles. Lacy garters attached to her black net silk stockings were visible at the hem of her very short silk skirt. In her spike heels she stood at about five feet, four inches. There was a large, thick black bejeweled leather collar around her neck, which accented her exotic beauty. She stood with defiance under my frank appraisal. She had attempted to tug her skirt down which had ridden high up her thighs, but had only succeeded in pulling the top down to reveal more of her bosom. Now she stood before us with her hands clenched in fists at her sides and a fire hinting in those flashing eyes. "This is John, Lisa', my uncle spoke in a mannered tone. "He is to be the Master while I am away." "Lisa again glared at my uncle. Then shook that black mass of hair slightly in a negative way. "Lisa...recall our earlier discussion" my uncle stated firmly. The two of them seemed to exchange meaningful eye signals. She broke eye contact with him and looked at the floor, then carefully bent one knee and inclined her head and upper body toward me. "Welcome...Sir," she said slowly. I could discern a slight accent. I started to reply, but my Uncle held up his hand to indicate, "wait". "Lisa has been taught the proper way to greet guests. But I am afraid we rarely have company and she has forgot her lessons. I shall remind her," he said as he reached toward the nearby control device. "No. No," she spoke up. She looked at him in exasperation then slowly lowered herself to her knees before me. She did this in a stiff controlled manner so as to not expose any more of her deep cleavage. As she knelt I was awarded a lovely look at a full upper thigh and then a glimpse of a tiny pair of lace panties as her short skirt rose. I looked down at her and she would not immediately meet my eyes; then those large green eyes came up to mine and she fully acknowledged me. "Welcome, Master ` she said in a low throaty voice. "How may I serve you?' I was now obliviously at a loss for words and my uncle instructed her to refill the brandy decanter. She placed her hands to the floor, shifted her legs and arose. It was readily apparent she was modestly attempting to minimize the display of her lush figure. The thin clingy short uniform was defeatingher. I watched her walk across the room to the bar. She had a lovely backside. The stiletto heels caused her hips to roll in an unavoidably provocative fashion. Conscious of my attention she tugged down and held the short skirt. "The collar discharges the shock. She can't remove the device. Hopefully you will not need to use it much. But it does get her immediate attention," he chuckled. She came back to stand before us with the decanter on a tray. She stared at the floor by my feet "Brandy.... Master?" she murmured. "Lisa you WILL do this as you have been trained" my uncle spoke sharply. The lovely girl closed her eyes and paused as if to collect her temper. She exhaled and bent forward from her waist presenting the tray to me. Her position caused her breasts to strain up and nearly spill from the top of the uniform. I had an unimpeded view of the full orbs, which were presented almost as an offering on the tray. She wore a light clean perfume and was close enough I could feel a heat emanate from her. I reached forward and placed my hand on the decanter. Despite the surreal ness of the situation I could not resist the impulse to run the back of my hand against the inner side of a proffered breast. She shivered at the contact and her eyes came up and met mine. Our eyes locked and I slowly stroked her warm silkiness. She blinked and shifted her eyes. I smiled and filled the glass. As I returned the decanter I ran a finger across a lace covered surprisingly taut nipple. She did not look up, but flinched at the intimate contact. I tasted the brandy. "Exquisite," I proclaimed. Her eyes came back up to mine. Then she turned and went to my uncle. She performed the same serving maneuver for him. But she did it in a modest manner, presenting only her side to me. Her position still caused her skirt to rise above her buttocks revealing the full length of her legs and a pair of small dainty lace panties. "Exquisite," I repeated. To be continued PAX EXPLICIT MATERIAL NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. (c) 2001 thomhobs@hotmail.com -- Commercial use prohibited without authors consent -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+