“Fernando!” came the voice.
Fernando groaned. Clearly, the mistress had a hangover. And so she was calling out for her personal assistant. He was more than an assistant to her, of course. His job, among other obligations, included getting her spirits high in such moments. As he heard her voice, he realised that it was going to be one of those days.
"Yes, Mam?," he said when he entered her room.
"Sam," she said, "I feel terrible!."
He knew the drill, "How many last night?"
"You mean drinks? Six. Neat. Whisky."
"Ah well. Let's go."
He took her to the bathroom where he stripped her off her alcohol smelling clothes. When she was fully naked, he filled the tub with water and checked the temperature. He looked at her. She was a mess. Her hair was dishevelled, her B-cup breasts red with her acts last night, and her eyes puffy. It was going to be a long day.
When she was done, he took a washrag and cleaned her anus and pee-hole. He got her to stand and dragged her to the basin. Steadying her with a hand, he brushed her teeth with the other. He then washed her face with cold water and that seemed to bring her to some kind of sense. He looked at her, and knew that she would have to be shaved, too. There was beginning to be a stubble growth in her pubes and underarms. He lathered her and got down to the business of shaving her. He always liked this part of his job, though technically he was nothing more than a personal valet. But then, what other job came with privileges like stripping your mistress, and grabbing her ass or breasts as you gave them a thorough cleaning? Even fucking her was a part of his job.
After he had bathed and scrubbed her, he dried her up and they walked to her room. She was almost fully awake by now. As he looked at her naked body, he could not help but feel a tingling in his crotch. But, he was not supposed to show excitement unless his employer desired him to do so. Over the years, he had mastered the art of remaining calm in such situations.
Fernando groaned. Clearly, the mistress had a hangover. And so she was calling out for her personal assistant. He was more than an assistant to her, of course. His job, among other obligations, included getting her spirits high in such moments. As he heard her voice, he realised that it was going to be one of those days.
"Yes, Mam?," he said when he entered her room.
"Sam," she said, "I feel terrible!."
He knew the drill, "How many last night?"
"You mean drinks? Six. Neat. Whisky."
"Ah well. Let's go."
He took her to the bathroom where he stripped her off her alcohol smelling clothes. When she was fully naked, he filled the tub with water and checked the temperature. He looked at her. She was a mess. Her hair was dishevelled, her B-cup breasts red with her acts last night, and her eyes puffy. It was going to be a long day.
When she was done, he took a washrag and cleaned her anus and pee-hole. He got her to stand and dragged her to the basin. Steadying her with a hand, he brushed her teeth with the other. He then washed her face with cold water and that seemed to bring her to some kind of sense. He looked at her, and knew that she would have to be shaved, too. There was beginning to be a stubble growth in her pubes and underarms. He lathered her and got down to the business of shaving her. He always liked this part of his job, though technically he was nothing more than a personal valet. But then, what other job came with privileges like stripping your mistress, and grabbing her ass or breasts as you gave them a thorough cleaning? Even fucking her was a part of his job.
After he had bathed and scrubbed her, he dried her up and they walked to her room. She was almost fully awake by now. As he looked at her naked body, he could not help but feel a tingling in his crotch. But, he was not supposed to show excitement unless his employer desired him to do so. Over the years, he had mastered the art of remaining calm in such situations.
