Simple and Clean

Chapter One

Life in the nineteenth century was bitter cruel, in fact, all life is cruel and you had to find the best way to play the game. Some were born lucky, lucky to embrace every dawn with their riches and privileges. Some found themselves working to meet the same status as those that floated just beneath the highest. The rest would serve for the rest of our lives. Death is something that is to be feared, but a good lot of us found that it would serve as peace.

"(First name)!"

Your head perked up, waking you up from your dazed state. A large office surrounded by countless books, a desk with a mess of papers with symbols you could not decipher. At last, a master who was tall, imposing, smart, and powerful.

"Yes, master."

"You are loyal to me, yes?" He asked.

"Yes, sir. I am indebted to you." You replied with obedience.

Standing up, his form towered over you in an amusing way. It looked like he was waiting for something, or looking at an obstacle. His hands wandered to your waist, the warmth of his hands was comforting in a way. Yet still, this situation was not familiar to you, handling it would be even harder.

"Forgive me."

His large hands that emitted warmth turned into surprise by shifting into a vice grip. His lips pressed against your cheek, bringing one hand up to unbutton the collar.

"Master!" You called out in alarm.

These sensations were too new, too terrifying, too unfamiliar. His hands would wander around the hips and chest, chanting a mantra that you could not hear. Fear and uncertainty were drowned in the one-sided romp of pleasure.

"Papa! Where are you, papa?"

You knew that little voice, that sweet little voice of Emma, the master's adoring little daughter. That little child was small yet spry, you loved taking care of her. But your heart began to pound, the doorknob began to wriggle about. Emma was going to attempt to get in her father's office.

"Master! Lady Emma will be inside any moment!" You gasped.

His actions halted at the mention of his dear daughter's name. His gaze was still heavy, it was similar when your master had too much to drink one night. His eyes lingered in your own, lost and longing, turning away he pressed his fingers on the bridge of his nose.

"Forgive me, my love."

Even when Lady Emma had entered the room, the tension still constricted the room and the two occupants constantly. The day had ended and the head maid placed his fingers and lifted your chin.

"Chin up, sweetheart. Rough day?"

You looked away, "Somewhat."

"Oh! Now I know something is definitely biting you."

"N-No, Annabelle. I'm probably just under the weather a spell." You quickly harped up a reason.

Sighing she shook her head, "Alright (First name). But you do know that you'll be getting the herbs for tomorrow's dinner, right?"

Dinner! Your master was expecting a rather important guest, someone to talk business with. Most of the ingredients were already going to be prepped, but herbs were lacking due to poor harvest weather.

"Ah, yes. Please leave it up to me." You smiled.

Everyone was up at dawn; mopping the floors until they shined with pride, wiping the windows until they gleaned with grace, dusting the shelves and furniture with careful precision. It was all in the pride of your master's name, after all, he was kind to his servants and brought many in.