by Ella Ford
As I considered this, I heard the front door swing open and we both turned in the direction of the hallway.
“Ah, CJ is here!” said Sarah with an unmistakable note of excitement in her voice. She sprung to her feet and stepped quickly across the room, taking tiny steps that seemed immature and childlike, a far cry from the confident gait that she’d had before.
I stood up myself, straightening my dress and flicking a loose lock of hair behind my ear, and waited for CJ to appear.
After a few seconds, Sarah Goddard returned to the living room, and I gasped as I saw who was following her. Walking several feet behind the winsome brunette was another woman, a tall blonde with short, ice white hair and a strikingly beautiful face. My mind raced, inwardly scolding myself for my preconceptions, shocked that Sarah Goddard was married to another woman and cursing myself for appearing so confounded.
CJ stepped past her wife and approached me, smirking slightly as she sensed my discomfort. She was an imposing figure, towering over me by six inches in her heels. She wore a grey pant suit that appeared tailored and expensive, fitting her perfectly and accentuating her hips and breasts. Her shoes were tall heels with complex straps that weaved over her pantyhose covered feet and she walked with confidence, never faltering or wavering.
“Hello, I’m Casey Jo Goddard, CJ,” she said offering me a confident hand. Her voice was deep and throaty, with an intangible sensuality that was difficult to ignore. “You must be Leanne, the art history major,” she added with a wry smile.
I felt a warm flush rising up my neck and spreading over my face. As I took CJ’s firm handshake, I glanced over at Sarah Goddard, standing behind her wife and gazing at the statuesque blonde with an expression that appeared worshipful. “Y-yes, I’m Leanne. I’m very pleased to meet you,” I managed to reply.
“Excellent. Then let’s talk about the job,” she said, gesturing at the sofa behind me. I felt a strange sense of permission, as though she’d given me a command, and I was compelled to obey. Almost without thinking, I sat back on the couch and sat up straight, aping the pose that I’d seen Sarah sit in earlier.
CJ turned on her heel and stepped over to the other sofa and lowered herself gracefully down. Then she turned to her left and patted the cushion beside her. Instantly, her wife moved and sat down with her. For the first time, I saw the two women together and noted the differences between them. They appeared to be perfect opposites: tall and petite; commanding and winsome; blonde and brunette. But for all their differences, they appeared perfectly at ease together, each one the perfect complement to the other.
I felt my heart racing, suddenly very nervous before the strange pairing. It wasn’t that I was opposed to lesbian relationships, as such. More that I’d never encountered any before. The concept was foreign and different to me. I was a small town girl, brought up with traditional Christian values, and every instinct I had screamed that marriage should be between a man and a woman. But I was also a college graduate, and had managed to break free of my upbringing to some extent. I’d moved to the city to broaden my horizons, to meet new people and learn about different ways of lives. I was no bigot, I was simply naive.
As I waited for the interview to begin, I wrestled with feelings of discomfort and curiosity, struggling to reconcile the two women before me with the concept of a long term relationship.
CJ Goddard seemed to sense my discomfort and flashed me a smile that was at once warm and mischievous. “How much did my wife tell you about the job?” she finally said, and I relaxed slightly, happy to have the awkward silence broken.
“Nothing really,” I said truthfully. CJ’s eyes flicked to Sarah and I swore I saw a glimmer of frustration there, but it was brief and fleeting. “I guess I’ll be working as housekeeper?”
“Yes, that’s right,” she said, sitting back and crossing her legs before her. “It’s not rocket science I’m afraid, you may find yourself bored with all the washing and cleaning.”
“Not at all. I enjoy taking care of people,” I said with as much sincerity as I could.
“And you’d be happy to live here?” she added. “We’re keen to have our housekeeper live with us so that you’re… always available,” she said with the slightest hint of a grin.
“I…” I stammered, not sure what to make of the obvious pause. “That’s fine. It’ll be good to be able to put the rent money I save towards paying off my student loans,” I said.
CJ stared at me with ice blue eyes, attempting to read my expression and gauge my thoughts. I squirmed under the weight of her glare, suddenly feeling very open and exposed. After an eternity of seconds, she finally spoke again. “Very well. Then I don’t think there’s much more to say here,” she said and I found myself deeply fearful that I’d said something wrong and blown my chance. “When can you start?” she added and I gasped in surprise.
“N-now. I m-mean, whenever,” I stuttered, shocked that I’d got the job.
“Excellent!” she exclaimed, beaming broadly. Then she stood to her feet abruptly and held out her hand to shake. I rose to meet her and placed my hand in hers. She held me tightly as she shook my hand and I was shocked by the strength of her grip and the intensity of her stare. Still holding my hand, she turned to her wife and spoke. “Sarah, would you be a darling and call Leanne a taxi? She’ll be heading home to pick up her things, then starting immediately.”
Sarah Goddard nodded briskly once, then stood quickly and scurried off to wherever the couple kept the phone. Inwardly, I noted how quickly she reacted, not a single word of complaint or question. But it was an idle observation, one that wouldn’t become relevant until much, much later.
“Come with me Leanne, I’ll show you your room while we wait for the car to arrive,” she said smartly and turned to walk in the direction of the hallway. “Tell me, do you have any particular dietary requirements? Allergies? Anything I should be aware of as your employer?”
I shook my head and added, “No, nothing like that,” as I scampered after her.
As we reached hallway, CJ stepped over to a partially closed door and pulled it firmly shut, then reached down and turned a small brass key, locking the door. Then she took the key out and placed it carefully in her jacket pocket.
She turned to me and smiled, never once betraying any emotion other than placid contentment. “Our basement,” she said casually, “it’s frankly a mess and the lights are broken. It wouldn’t do for you to be poking around down there in the dark.”
I nodded, my racing mind galloping along at two hundred miles an hour. I could scarcely believe how quickly this was happening. I never thought twice about the need to lock the basement door - wouldn’t a simple warning have sufficed?
“Okay, let’s go to your room, then you can fly away to your home and pack a bag. How does that sound?” she said, clearly not caring how it sounded in any way that mattered.
“It’s… fine, yes, fine,” I said, trying to sound controlled, but inwardly feeling bewildered and overwhelmed.
She stepped off again, marching down the hallway, deeper into the large house. I followed her, my tiny steps struggling to keep pace with her confident strides. Eventually, we reached a small room at the back of the house and she ushered me in. I brushed past her into a sparsely decorated bedroom that was light and airy, with a single bed pushed into the corner. Laid on the bed was a simple black dress and apron, a pair of thick, black pantyhose and a pair of flat, black shoes that were practical but cute nonetheless.
“I hope you like the room. You can brighten it up with your belongings perhaps?” she offered, then gestured at the uniform. “Please wear the uniform when you’re working, there’s a spare in the closet.”
I nodded, trying to take it all in, wondering where the comfortable dreams of my college years had gone. This menial role was a world away from my impractical hopes of losing myself in a musty old museum wing for my entire career.
“Please be up by six am sharp, I expect my breakfast at six thirty. Sa
rah will be a little later, but I have her rise by seven thirty at the latest,” she said. I have her? I pondered to myself, realizing that CJ was very much the dominant partner in this relationship.
She smiled at me one final time, radiating a feeling of poise and control that was intimidating and reassuring in equal measure. “Excellent. I’ll leave you to get settled in. The taxi will be here shortly.” Then she turned on her sharp heel and left through the door in a flurry of rich perfume and laser-like efficiency.
I exhaled deeply and collapsed back on the bed. What had just happened? I stared at the ceiling and attempted to process the events of the last five minutes. I had a job! I no longer to worry about eviction or begging my parents for their help! So what if it was such a humble job, so what if I was going to be a maid? A lot of people would give everything for what I now had.
At the back of mind though, a lingering uncertainty. An unshakable legacy of my rustic upbringing. Did I really feel comfortable living in the same house as a lesbian couple? I shook my head and scolded myself. It was the twenty-first century, for goodness sake! The pair of them were obviously very much in love and very happy, despite their unconventional desires. Who was I to judge them?
After all, it wasn’t as though I would have to have sex with them myself, was it?
Chapter 2
It’s amazing how quickly your life can change, and how readily you can accept such a drastic shift in your routine and your expectations. It was like this with me as I settled into life as a maid in the home of the Goddards. My existence became a succession of comfortable habits after only a few days, and I found myself enjoying the repetitive mundanity of the work involved.
I rose early every day and took a quick shower, then slipped into the practical and smart uniform. I quite enjoyed wearing the dress and the crisp, white apron. It helped me to relax into the job, reminding me what I was doing and why I was doing it. After inspecting myself in the mirror - CJ required me to look impeccable at all times, and wouldn’t settle for even a single rogue fleck of lint on my pristine, black pantyhose - I left the bedroom and headed over to the kitchen to begin to prepare breakfast.
At six thirty every morning without fail, CJ Goddard would join me and offer a cheery greeting. The tall blonde was always impeccably turned out, wearing a succession of crisp skirts and pants, and tight, fetching blouses. Her short hair was never out of place and, in all the time that I worked for her, I never once saw her without makeup.
CJ liked eggs for breakfast with hot, fresh coffee, and I went to great lengths to ensure that they were ready and waiting for her on the table when she sat down. She would then proceed to eat her food and read her newspaper while I busied myself around the kitchen, preparing for the arrival of my second employer.
By seven fifteen, CJ had usually left the kitchen and headed out of the house to go to work. So I took the opportunity to clean up her pots and lay the table for Sarah. The winsome brunette would arrive at seven thirty and drowsily munch her way through a slice of toast and a glass of orange juice, barely acknowledging my presence until she was halfway down her first cup of coffee.
I found myself increasingly amused by the difference between the two women - the crisp and perfect CJ, ready for the day from the moment she left their bedroom; and the shambling Sarah, who appeared to be worlds away from the graceful creature she would become for at least the first hour of every day.
After breakfast, I cleaned the kitchen and set about my remaining chores. On my first day, CJ had provided me with a comprehensive list of jobs and requirements. The list contained everything from mundane everyday tasks (washing, ironing, cleaning) to the kind of responsibilities that only a certain class of person needs attending to (check the pool filter, reset the security system).
Regardless, I soon found myself enjoying the job and the repetitive monotony. The house was such an overwhelmingly pleasant place to live and work, and my employers were so easygoing, that I frequently thanked my lucky stars that I’d stumbled into this charmed existence.
It wasn’t until several weeks into the job, on a Tuesday, that I had the first inkling that things were not quite as they seemed at the Goddard’s house.
Tuesday was a wash day, and I spent most of the afternoon in the laundry room, sorting through endless piles of dirty clothes, wondering how two women could wear so many different outfits. It was late summer, and the air was warm and thick and sultry, which made spending any time at all in the laundry room deeply uncomfortable.
By late afternoon, I found myself dripping with perspiration and wishing I was somewhere cooler. As I set off the final load, I breathed a sigh of relief and made a mental note to empty the washer later on when it was cooler. Then I headed off into the house to take care of my remaining chores.
When I got to the living room, I found Sarah Goddard relaxing on the comfortable corner sofa, as I frequently did at this time. The tiny brunette looked cool and relaxed, a stark contrast to my own flustered and frazzled appearance.
“Ah, Leanne,” she said, looking up from the book that she was reading. “I wonder if you would be a dear and pick up some iced tea for me?” she asked with a brief flutter of her eyelashes. “You may take my car.”
I nodded. I was used to being sent out for groceries and, if I’m honest, welcomed the opportunity to sit in an air conditioned car for the fifteen minutes it would take to drive to the store. I turned and headed out of the house, pausing only to remove the white apron and place it on my bed.
The trip was uneventful, and I arrived back at the house half an hour later. It was close to six by then. CJ was due home at any time and I still had to prepare dinner. So I set to work, immersing myself in the remaining tasks of the day.
By nine o’clock, my work was complete. I headed to to my room and collapsed back onto my bed, not even bothering to take off the uniform. I was exhausted and the temperature had barely shifted from its mid-nineties high. I sighed, then propped myself up on my elbows, suddenly aware of something that I’d forgotten but not able to bring it to mind.
I sat up and wrinkled my brow, frustrated by the sense that something was missing. After several minutes, I finally remembered, and touched my hand to my forehead in annoyance. The final load of washing! I’d left it in the machine.
I considered leaving it overnight, but then realized that it would need re-doing in the morning to remove the damp smell. So, with a heavy heart, I stood up once more and headed over to the laundry room. My aching legs sang out in protest at the prospect of more work, but I gritted my teeth and forced myself into action.
When I got to the laundry, I removed the clothes and hung them on the drier there, making a mental note to return in the morning and take care of them properly. With a relieved sigh, I headed back to bed, hopefully for the final time that day!
When I walked through the house I noted how calm and peaceful it was. The two women had gone to bed early and the place was dark and quiet, the only sound was the constant summer song of the insects in the garden. I stepped through the kitchen and into the long hallway that ran the length of the house.
As I walked past the master bedroom, I heard the low hum of conversation. I slowed down, keen to make sure that CJ didn’t find me up and around at this time of night. To my surprise, the door to the master bedroom was slightly open, allowing a thin shaft of warm light to radiate out into the hallway. I passed by and flicked my eyes to the left, my curiosity overcoming the guilt of voyeurism.
Abruptly, I stopped dead in my tracks and gasped, startled by what I saw. I blinked a few times, struggling to see through the thin crack between the door and the frame, then leaned closer, confident that I was cloaked in the shadow of darkness but eager to remain completely hidden.
In the bedroom, CJ was sitting on the side of the bed facing away from me. She was wearing a black bra and panties, and appeared as pristine and controlled as she always did. Her long, toned legs were crossed and she was idly filing her nails.
At her feet, kneeling on the floor by the bed, was Sarah Goddard. The petite brunette was completely naked, but for a black satin eyemask. Her arms were crossed behind her back, hands clutching her elbows and chest pushed forwards provocatively. She appeared deep in concentration, her head bowed slightly, appearing to stare at CJ’s feet through the delicate blindfold.
I felt my heartbeat quicken, fueled by the fear of discovery and the thrill of this forbidden scene. I knew that I should leave, that I should allow the women their privacy, but I couldn’t move. My feet felt rooted to the spot, unwilling to risk making a sound, and eager to see more. Ultimately, my curiosity that held me there, against my better judgement.
“You don’t seem happy,” said CJ, still filing her nails absentmindedly. Her voice was low and even, barely more than a throaty whisper.
Sarah’s head flicked upwards slightly. “I am… you know I am. I love you. It’s just… I worry,” she said, a note of nervous trepidation evident in her tone. I wondered what they were talking about.
“You remember what we discussed? Why I’m doing this?” said CJ, dropping the nail file beside her and reaching forward to caress Sarah’s cheek with the palm of her hand.
Sarah cocked her head to the side, leaning into the tender touch, a gentle smile crossing her face. “I do, and I’m sure you’re right and it’ll be fine. It’s just… she’s… I don’t know,” she breathed.
My mind was racing. I had the sense that I was overhearing something important, something that I shouldn’t be hearing. But I was unable to piece it together and was left hungry to know more. Why was Sarah worried? What was CJ doing? Who was ‘she’?
“Everything will be fine honey, like it always is,” said CJ, adopting a tone that indicated that the conversation was over.
“Yes, CJ,” replied Sarah, lowering her head again.
“Now, tell me what you want,” said the blonde, uncrossing her legs and parting her knees slightly.
