A porter leads you to the others

"Ah, there you are, miss Lopez," a man standing outside the door greets you. "Follow me." He's curt, strict, his words more a command than a request. His voice tells you it's the same man who shouted at you through the door earlier.

A few hallways down, and you arrive in a small room with four people. Master Fredericks, Master John and Mistress Emily, as well as a fourth, unknown man, professional-looking.

"Ah, Isabella, how good of you to finally join us," Master Fredericks greet you.

His voice sounds irritated. "I'm sorry, Sir," you automatically reply. "This change was a bit much to take in."

"Well, you chose it yourself. Your former mother has changed a lot, too" - he points at Master John - "and he was the first to meet me."

Chosen this yourself? You hadn't...

"Unlike you, his choice I can understand. It's beyond me to understand why you'd want to be a lowly maid, but I'm certainly not saying no to having you in your new position."

"Sir, I didn't choose..." He stands up, reaches over, and slaps you. Not particularly hard, but enough to startle you, and send an electric jolt down your spine, to between your legs.

"Of course you chose it. There's no point in denying it. When we were under, we all focused on someone, imagined how their life was, and we became them. You became Isabella Lopez, a maid."

You consider voicing another protest, telling him that that wasn't entirely true, but the voice in your head tells you not to. You don't contradict your Master. "Yes, sir," you answer instead, meekly.

"Okay, now that that's sorted out, let's begin," the unknown man says. You are about to take a seat, but with just a look your Master conveys his disapproval. You are our maid, not our equal, so you stand, it seems to say.

After a short presentation by the other man, you are taken out to your new car. Well, Master Fredericks new car. You can't drive. Andy used to be able to, but you're pretty sure Isabella would wreck something. For a second, you wonder if you retain your skills from being Andy. After making sure the other three are in, you climb in yourself. John jokes that you should have been in the trunk, but unfortunately the feds would have reacted.

The drive takes a while, but finally, you arrive at a large, well-kept house. Almost a mansion, you think to yourself. Much larger than the house you used to live in. You get out of the car and run to the door to open it for the others. They walk past you without even acknowledging you're there, and proceed to take a tour around the house.

"This has to be my room," John says. It's clearly decorated for a young man. "Here's mine," Emily says. A part of your mind starts to catalog every nook and cranny of the house as you pass through it, looking for dust and other things that needs doing. Luckily, you don't see anything. The house has several more rooms that could be used for bedrooms, besides the three reserved for the Fredericks family, but none of them are made up for you. You're almost done with the tour when you ask. "Where do I sleep, sir?"

"If I allow you, maybe in my bed," he answers. "But I'm guessing our room is... here." He opens a door just down the hallway from the kitchen, and he turns out to be right. The room is small and has spartan decoration. A small bed, a dresser and a closet, a small desk, and a bookshelf filled with cheap paperback romances. That's about everything the room has. There wouldn't be space for anything more, anyway.

"This isn't fair," you whisper to yourself. "The others get to live in luxury, and I only get this?" _It isn't fair, but you like it that way. _The voice is right. The stark contrast between your lot and theirs brings a tingling to your crotch.
__

The tour comes to an end in front of your new room. "Isabella, I want lunch served in my study in 20 minutes," Master Fredericks says as he and John leave.

"Look at this tiny little room," Emily says. "Oh, poor Isabella. Just think of how your life could have been, if you hadn't been a born a poor little Mexican girl, coming to the US illegally to work as a maid. Imagine if you'd been born a rich white kid like us. Or maybe you could have been a trophy wife? You know, Daddy didn't remarry after Mommy died, and you've got quite the nice body." She grabs one of your boobs. "Real, too? Of course, Daddy would never marry someone like you. He'll keep you on as a little fuck-toy for as long as you're young and sexy, and then he'll move on to the next young thing. I've seen it happen twice before." She breaks character for a moment. "Well, you know, Emily has seen this happen twice before. The last one was just a week before you got hired." She grins a sadistic grin at your surprise. You hadn't known that. Master Fredericks had had his ways with his former maids, as well, and then just discarded them like used sex toys? The worst thing is, the thought only turns you on. "And best of all, you chose this yourself."

You chose this yourself. The voice agrees. "Yes, mistress."

"Well, you better go ready James' lunch. And ready yourself for yours...."

You gulp, and lick your lips. There's no question as to what she's referring to. In your state of arousal, your mouth is salivating at the thought of crawling down between Master Fredericks legs and sucking him off while he eats his lunch. But there's also a part of you that finds the idea completely repulsive. He's your father. No, he's your Master.

You find yourself in an inner conflict between your arousal and this old part of you, the part that is Andy, as you prepare Master Fredericks meal. 24 minutes after you were told to prepare his lunch, you knock at the door to his study.