Instilling Obedience & Maid to Serve

by Ray Gordon

  He smiled and shook his head. 'Let's say no more about it, eh?' he said, fleetingly eyeing the panties that were clearly visible to him now, the gentle swell of white cotton snugly cocooning her hidden sex.

  Emily smiled and chatted to him as if oblivious to her exhibitionism, her chin remaining on her knee. She thought he could probably see her panties, but there was no harm in that, was there? This was Arthur, old friend of the family. Her parents would be happy to think he was giving up his time to take such an interest in her and make sure she was okay. 'I like you when you're like this,' she whispered sincerely, her moist lips slightly parted, her eyes wide and bright. 'It's like you always used to be with me. It's like we're friends again.'

  'We are friends again,' he assured her, reaching out and stroking a few wisps of silky hair behind her dainty ear, his other hand boldly stroking right up her thigh until his fingers actually touched the front of her panties. It pressed there for long, long seconds, the silence hanging heavy between them, their eyes locked together, his searching hers, Emily suddenly aware of the ticking clock on the mantelpiece and the strange excitement churning in the pit of her stomach and the alien pressure against her sex lips...

  And then as quickly as the hand had advanced it retreated and Arthur stood, a little stiffly, Emily thought.

  'So you're okay?' he asked, his voice a little hoarse all of a sudden.

  'Yes, I'm fine,' Emily replied, wondering why he asked but feeling happy thinking about getting ready for her evening out. She couldn't believe how things had changed. With no curfew to worry about she could go to the wine bar and then on to a nightclub and really enjoy herself. Life was looking good again, she reflected, feeling at ease for the first time since her parents had gone away. And it was going to get even better.

  'I'll see you later,' Arthur said, moving to the lounge door, where he paused and gave her a lingering look.

  'Okay,' Emily beamed happily, standing up too.

  'I'll get to work on the report book,' he told her. 'You have a good time this evening.'

  Emily nodded enthusiastically. 'Yes, yes I will,' she said. 'And thank you, Arthur.'

  Chapter 10

  Emily extricated the photographs from beneath the sofa. She'd burn them later, she decided, taking them up to her room. Gazing at the vibrator lying on her bed, she wondered again where it had come from. Then secreting the photographs and vibrator in her dressing table drawer, she sat on the end of her bed and gazed at her reflection in the mirror, wondering about those secret, pleasurable sensations she'd experienced when Arthur touched her. Of course he was only being friendly, it meant nothing to him, but they were hugely significant moments for her.

  And there was something else - something she never would have believed only a short time before. There was something exciting too about knowing her next-door neighbour could see her panties. Lifting her foot onto the sofa, knowing the movement had raised the hem of her dress even higher, knowing it was wicked of her, was an impulsive but intentional tease, just to see how the man might react. And uncharacteristic though the move was it made her feel good - made her feel sexy. After years of being a beautiful but shrinking violet, she got an immense thrill from doing something so daring, so against the grain. It was not the sort of thing she'd normally consider doing, but in return for her freedom it was well worth it. Keeping Arthur happy would pay off, she thought, slipping out of her dress and putting on a fresh white bra and panties, then taking her miniskirt from the chair. The chances of her going on holiday to Tenerife were looking good again, and she was going to enjoy the rest of her time living alone. Nothing could go wrong now, she felt sure, as she fastened her skirt at her trim waist and slipped into a white blouse. Nothing could go wrong now... could it?

  Applying her make-up and brushing her auburn hair, she reckoned Arthur wouldn't bother to wait up for her. Without the ten o'clock deadline to worry about he'd probably go to bed. With the phone out of order she decided to call at Christine's house on her way to the wine bar. Christine would be up for a night out, she thought happily as she glossed her succulent lips. Christine was usually up for anything.

  Deciding she looked good, she skipped happily down the stairs. This was what these two weeks should have been like from day one, she mused, grabbing her small shoulder bag, stepping outside and pulling the front door closed.

  'Emily,' Arthur called from his porch.

  'Hi,' she trilled brightly. 'I'm just going to call for Chrissie and then we're off to the wine bar.'

  'No, come round here,' he said. 'There's a bit of a problem.'

  'A problem?' she echoed, suddenly panicking a little that something might have happened to her parents.

  'Your father just rang me,' he told her as she hurried up his garden path, his eyes flitting to her breasts and then back up to her face. 'He couldn't get through to you because your phone's still out of order.'

  'Are they all right?' she asked anxiously. 'Nothing's happened, has it?'

  'No, no they're both fine,' he reassured her. 'But the thing is, well, come into the house and I'll tell you.'

  'What is it?' she asked, concern etched on her lovely face as he closed the front door and ushered her into his lounge.

  'They were about to go on some coach excursion to one of those organised barbecues,' he started to explain. 'That's why there wasn't time for me to come and get you.'

  'Yes?' Emily urged. 'So what's the matter?'

  'The thing is,' he said, 'your father's going to ring back later to talk to you. He and your mother just want to know how you are. It's quite understandable.'

  'Oh,' she sighed with relief, 'is that all? That's all right, isn't it? Good grief, I thought it was something serious for a minute.'

  'Yes, but it means you'll have to be here when he rings,' he pointed out.

  'Oh, of course, yes I see,' Emily sighed despondently, seeing her evening out disappearing before her eyes.

  'Bearing in mind he doesn't want you going out in the evenings at all this is very inconvenient for you,' he went on, explaining what Emily had already realised.

  'What time is he going to ring?' she asked.

  'That's the trouble, I don't know,' he told her. 'We were cut off before he could say. Presumably when they get back from their evening out, which could be at any time. I really am sorry about this, Emily,' he sighed, shaking his head with apparent regret. 'Of all the rotten luck, just when you were looking forward to going out so much.'

  'Ah well, it's a shame but it can't be helped, I suppose,' she sighed bravely, sitting on the sofa. 'There's always tomorrow night.'

  'But you must have been so looking forward to going out this evening,' said Arthur.

  'Yes I was, but if he phones early enough I'll still be able to make it to the wine bar,' she said, brightening again.

  'Yes, that's true,' he agreed, going into the kitchen and returning with a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. 'I must say, you look lovely this evening, Emily. Very attractive indeed.'

  'Oh, thank you,' she said, blushing prettily and fidgeting a little where she sat on the sofa.

  'Yes, very attractive...' he mused, his eyes moving over her. 'Would you like a glass of wine?' he asked, holding the bottle up for her to see.

  'Yes please,' she replied, smiling at him. 'I might as well while I'm waiting.'

  'Don't you go telling your father,' he laughed, placing the glasses on the sideboard and taking a corkscrew from one of the drawers, with which he opened the wine.

  'I won't if you don't,' Emily giggled.

  'That's my girl,' he chuckled, passing her a glass of white, fragrant wine.

  Although disappointed about her evening out, Emily felt quite at ease sitting in Arthur's lounge. It was as if he'd returned to his old self, the friendly neighbour she'd looked upon as a kind uncle.

  'The photographs,' she began, sipping her wine, 'have you destroyed them yet?'

  'Yes I have,' he said reassuringly. 'You have nothing more to worry about.
' He took a sip of his wine and then moved to sit beside her. 'Yes, you do look very attractive this evening.'

  Emily shifted awkwardly again, uncomfortable receiving such overt praise. 'Thanks,' she said quietly, and sipped her own wine.

  'And I like your blouse, and your skirt... although it is a little short.'

  Emily blushed even deeper and tried to smooth the hem down her thighs a little, but failed. 'It isn't that short,' she said.

  'Why do girls wear their skirts so short these days?' he asked conversationally, his gaze resting on her thighs, watching her hand struggle in vain to lower the hem.

  'Because it's the fashion,' she said, before repeating, 'but mine isn't that short.'

  'Why is it the fashion?'

  'I don't know. It just is.'

  'It's the fashion because girls want to show off their legs, Emily,' he told her. 'Girls wear make-up to look attractive to men, and girls show off their legs to attract men.'

  'Well I don't,' she said.

  'Don't you?' he mused. 'Are you sure about that?'

  No, Emily wasn't sure about that, but she wasn't going to admit as much to Arthur.

  'Are you sure you don't flirt so men will notice and admire you; admire your figure; your breasts; you bottom; your legs...'

  'Arthur!' Emily gasped, shocked by his words. 'All I want is to dress fashionably, look pretty and be able to go out and enjoy myself with my friends.'

  'I quite understand that,' he said, his tone placatory. 'I'm fully on your side, my dear. But the first thing we must do is ensure your parents know nothing about your secret life.'

  'My secret life?' she giggled, the wine warming her blood pleasantly. 'You make it sound awful.'

  'That's what you're leading by dressing like you are; a secret life,' he said conspiratorially. 'Don't get me wrong, I think you look very nice, but I'm pretty sure your parents wouldn't be so understanding. We'll have to work together to make sure you can continue to enjoy yourself once they return from holiday.'

  'I don't want to lie to them, Arthur,' she said warily.

  'So we'll have to be clever to make sure they never find out, hm?'

  Emily took another sip of the delicious wine, her head feeling nicely light, her spirits increasingly carefree. 'Nice?' she chirped, giving his arm a playful slap.

  'Pardon?' Arthur said, almost spilling a little wine.

  'Nice,' she repeated with a mischievous pout. 'You said I only look nice.'

  'Aha, I wondered if you'd notice that,' he laughed, and Emily laughed with him, and then his expression grew serious and he added, 'To say any more might be inappropriate, Emily...'

  That heavy, uncomfortable silence settled over them again as they stared at each other, and then Emily inhaled deeply and sipped her wine, the hand holding her glass trembling slightly, Arthur's eyes flickering to where her blouse stretched over her breasts as she nervously filled her lungs.

  'Well, I...' she started, having swallowed quite a large mouthful of the golden liquid.

  'Do you like it?' he asked. 'The wine, do you like it?'

  'Yes, thank you,' she whispered. 'Why are you prepared to help me?' she asked, wanting to forget that awkward moment just passed and again pondering his dramatic change of attitude.

  'Because, as I see it, I have no choice,' he said enigmatically.

  Emily frowned and finished her drink. 'What do you mean?' she asked, barely aware of him taking the empty glass from her hand and refilling it.

  'Well, rather than let you loose, possibly getting yourself into trouble, I can guide you, Emily,' he explained, setting his own glass aside on the occasional table, only half empty. 'I can point you in the right direction. I can be a great help to you. I'm not just some old fool who knows nothing, you know. I was young once, and I can give you the benefit of my experience.' His hand moved back to her thigh as it had that afternoon, and to Emily, with a glass-and-a-half of fine white wine inside her, combined with his reassuring words, it felt extremely comforting.

  His fingers stroked for a few seconds as he watched her reaction closely, and then he went on. 'For example, if your parents find this skirt in your bedroom, they'll know immediately that something's going on.'

  'That's true,' she whispered thoughtfully. 'I hadn't really thought that far ahead.'

  'So what do we do about that little problem?' he asked, his hand moving in small circles that made her skin tingle nicely.

  Emily frowned as she sipped more wine and pondered his question. 'Well, I'm... I'm not too sure,' she finally admitted.

  'We hide your fashionable clothes round here,' he announced dramatically. 'In that way you can buy as much as you like, and I'll look after it for you without your parents ever knowing. Then whenever you go out on the pretext of going to study with Christine, you can slip round here, get changed, and then meet your friends in town.'

  Emily beamed at him, her eyes sparkling with joy. 'That's brilliant!' she exclaimed. 'Would you really do that for me, Arthur?'

  'Of course I would,' he said. 'We're friends, aren't we?'

  'Yes!' she enthused. 'Yes we are!'

  'Good. If it makes you happy, then I'm happy...'

  His eyes dropped to her thighs again, to where his hand moved almost imperceptibly on her smooth flesh. Emily's eyes followed his, and together they sat in silence while he caressed her.

  'Arthur...'

  'Your skirt is very short, though,' he said, his voice suddenly low, even a little strained. 'That alone could get you into all sorts of trouble. It's a good job I'm here to look after you.'

  'Arthur...'

  'I can even glimpse a little of your panties, Emily,' he went on. 'Just imagine what might happen if I was a young lad with no self-control.'

  His hand applied a little pressure and her thighs parted just a fraction. Emily tensed a little, resisting, curiously watching the hand pressing against her leg. Feeling a little unsure of herself, her embarrassment rising, she squeezed her thighs together again, trapping the hand between them.

  'Don't worry, Emily,' he coaxed, 'I've seen it all before. I'm just helping you, remember? You'd be surprised just how many girls show off their knickers to us men. That's what miniskirts are all about. That's the name of the game, like a secret weapon, luring us.'

  'Is that what you think?' she asked, feeling increasingly light-headed but enjoying the relaxing sensation and sipping some more wine. 'I'd never thought of it like that.'

  'No, you wouldn't. You see, with all due respect, you're incredibly naïve. But that's where I can help you.'

  Relaxing as she finished her second glass of wine, Emily allowed him to take it from her again, her thighs falling fractionally apart. Arthur poured a third glass and passed it to her as she slumped back a little on the sofa, a rosy hue prettily colouring her cheeks.

  'For example, did you know I could see your panties this afternoon, when we were sitting together on your sofa?' Arthur asked.

  Emily nodded. 'Yes, I did,' she admitted, 'but that's different.' She giggled, putting her free hand over her mouth. 'I mean, you're Arthur.'

  'And that's my point,' he said. 'What if I wasn't good old Arthur? What if I was some lad with his hormones all over the place? What might have happened then, hm?'

  Emily frowned, trying to fathom out his point.

  'And do you know I can see your panties again now, Emily?' he said, and watched the girl as she took a tiny sip of wine and then nodded again. 'And you don't mind that?'

  Emily thought for a few seconds. 'I don't know, really,' she said. 'I suppose you shouldn't be looking.'

  'But you shouldn't be flaunting them at me, now should you?'

  'No,' Emily acknowledged contritely, but a definite pressure from his hand indicated that she wasn't to move into a more modest position.

  'No, you shouldn't,' he concurred. 'And shall I show you what might happen if you were to tease - intentionally or unintentionally - some randy youth who couldn't control his urges?'

  Emily did not
move or say anything. She just watched the man closely.

  'Well, shall I?' he pressed.

  'What are you going to do?'

  'I want you to look upon this as education, Emily,' he told her. 'This is to help you, nothing more. Do you understand me? It's nothing more than that. At my age I get nothing from it. I'm simply doing this to help you. Okay?'

  She said nothing, her uncertain silence the response he needed, so he slipped down from the sofa and knelt before her and placed his hands on her knees.

  He was genuinely trying to help her, she was sure, as with his steady stare he silenced any uncertainties she may have voiced, then when happy she was going to remain silent, parted her thighs and gazed between them, directly at the triangular gusset of her white panties.

  As she looked down at what he was looking at, she told herself that things were going to change for the better now that she and Arthur understood each other. With the benefit of his experience she'd be more worldly-wise and therefore more confident, and as he slowly pushed her thighs even further apart she knew she had him to thank for that.

  He looked deep into her eyes, his fingers squeezing the smooth flesh of her parted thighs. She was totally open to him. She sat quietly and meekly, waiting to see what he did next, not knowing how best to react.

  His eyes lowered, following the slim line of her throat, down to her cleavage, it's shadowy depths made visible by the open neck of her blouse.

  'You have lovely breasts, Emily,' he suddenly said, shocking her with his frankness.

  'Arthur, you shouldn't—'

  'Any red-blooded youth will be drooling to get his hands on them,' he went on. 'I'm only warning you; with such loveliness you need to be careful.'

  Watching, spellbound as Arthur pressed his fingers into the naked flesh of her inner thighs and then inched them nearer her crotch, Emily was sure she was safe with him. He genuinely seemed to be helping her. And with him on her side, her ally, she'd have no trouble getting out at night and enjoying her life for a change.

  'W-what are you doing?' she asked, as Arthur's fingers finally reached the triangle of white cotton and rested against it.