A proud maid

The time of my meeting with Ivy is fast approaching, and I’m still hesitant. I know I want to use a path upgrade, but I’m finding it hard to decide between two contenders.

The first, and probably the most strategic one, would be Ellen’s Leading by example path. I’m unsure what it would do, but it would increase my influence over the school in a controlled way. It would spread my beliefs faster and deeper than they otherwise would, and it would be fun to see how it would change Ellen’s behaviour.

Speaking of whom, I haven’t seen her in a few days. I wonder what she’s been up to. Maybe I should pay her a visit tomorrow.

The second option would be Ivy’s Maid of honour path. If I were to pick it, I would get to see the results almost immediately, and the upgrade itself might be useful to my plans.

But I won’t lie to you, my main reason for picking it is a much simpler, much less strategic one.

I really, really like maids.

Or, more generally, I have a thing for uniforms. They don’t even have to be particularly skimpy to do it for me, although I certainly won’t complain if they are.

But is that a good enough reason to pick something less useful strategically?

...

Yeah, it is.

Path ugraded for Ivy Klaus: Maid, of honour.

New belief: The user deserves the best standards of living so he can focus on enforcing his authority. Target believes she should ensure those standards are met. Target will gain a fondness for stereotypical maidlike aesthetics and will seek to include them in her fashion style. (Path belief. Effect strength may increase over time.)

Well, that’s not bad, especially after what I told you about uniforms, but it’s even less useful than I thought. I expected something a bit deeper, considering how expensive this upgrade was.

Unless... what’s that underneath the first paragraph?

Bonus trait upgrade for Ivy Klaus: Queen Bee.

Target will be able to spread any belief on anyone who looks up to her or considers themself lower than her on a hierarchy, at no BS cost to the user, even if that belief is not hers to begin with. This process will take time and she can only spread each belief to a maximum of ten people. When applying a third party’s belief on someone, she will need that third party to also be present. Note: some exceptions may apply.

That... is insanely powerful. Any belief from anyone can be spread to anyone who looks up to Ivy. I could give a bunch of students Rachel’s spy belief, Ellen’s obsession with my rules, Jenny’s newfound love for toys; the possibilities are endless.

It does state that there may be exceptions, but I suppose that would be for cases in which a belief simply wouldn’t make sense on someone else. How could I give Jenny’s beliefs on mind control to someone who doesn’t know that mind control exists, or Tatiana’s beliefs on bullying to someone who simply isn’t a bully?

It is possible that some particularly strong beliefs may also not be transferable, if the app doesn’t want me to get too powerful too quickly, but I’m fine with that.

You know, my inner circle is slowly starting to resemble that of a proper ruler. I have Rachel as my spymaster, Ellen as my minister of propaganda, Ivy as my diplomat, and Tatiana as my jester.

Maybe I’ll have an actual government in a few weeks’ time.

I go back to the first paragraph of Ivy’s updated belief and read it a second time. “A fondness for stereotypical maidlike aesthetics”.

I have an idea.

After opening a cramped cabinet, I pull out a small briefcase filled to the brim with various knickknacks that my grandma asked me to hold on to when she left her flat and moved into a retirement home.

Oh, she’s fine, don’t worry. In fact, she’s been a lot better ever since she moved out. I should probably call her soon, I haven’t talked to her in a little while.

It takes me a minute of digging through her stuff before I find what I’m looking for. I take it out and carefully lay it on my bedside table. It looks a bit strange, but it’ll do.

Next, I reach over the kitchen cupboard, feeling around for the familiar touch of thick fabric.

And there it is.

A bit dusty, though.

I open up the window and shake it around, hitting it against the outside wall until I can’t see any dust flying off it anymore.

I bring it back inside and hang it on the top of the cupboard door.

Perfect. Now I just need to wait for Ivy to get here.

---

Clack goes the kettle as it finishes its job, its amber light shutting off in industrious satisfaction.

I grab its handle and move towards the two cups I’d prepared a minute ago.

Knock, knock goes the door, obviously at the most inconvenient moment.

“Coming!”

I set down the kettle and reach for the door, opening it with a welcoming smile.

“Hello there Ivy, right on time!”

“When am I not?” She asks matter-of-factly, before stepping into the room without waiting for my signal.

Tack, tack go her short heels against the floor as she walks.

She stands in the middle of my room, getting the lay of the (very limited) land, her stance somewhat wide and her hands balled into fists against her hips. She surveys the entire room like a hawk, scanning it and taking it all in. And I can’t help but feel a little bit anxious about her judgement.

The teacher eagerly awaiting his student’s feedback; how the tables have turned.

Oh, come on, don’t pretend like you’ve never been anxious about showing somebody your bedroom, especially someone who’s explicitly there to look around everywhere.

Eventually, Ivy tuts and shakes her head disapprovingly.

I promise it’s really not that bad. It’s cramped, which makes everything feel a bit less orderly, and there are a few items scattered around, but it’s all very much within reason, especially for a teacher, who are famously disorganised creatures.

“Alright, better than I feared, but worse than I hoped. Let’s get started,” She states imperiously.

I interpret that last sentence as her wanting me to participate, which seems like an extremely reasonable request, coming from someone willing to do my housework for free. I reach out for some clothes that need folding, when Ivy leans forwards and slaps me on the wrist.

“Hey, what are you doing?” She asks with irritation. “I’ll take care of that. You just focus on your goals. That whole bringing order back to the school shtick we talked about, remember?”

“Yes, yes, of course, I’ll just focus on that.”

No idea what “focusing on my goals” would entail right now. I guess I could just sit down in a chair and clasp my hands together while looking very focused. Maybe I could throw in a couple nefarious fits of laughter here and there, to complete the cliché.

“Say, Ivy, what do you think you’ll start with, here?” I ask to change the subject.

“Hmm. Well, first we’ll... I’ll try and organise your things, so I can store them more efficiently. That’ll give us a bit more room to breathe, after dusting and cleaning all your storage of course. After that, I’ll probably start going over that kitchen area, then the bathroom, sweep the floors, mop it all up, go over everything a second time to make sure it’s all just right... Oh, don’t give me that look. You know I believe in hard work. And besides, I have a feeling this’ll be more fun than it may seem.”

“Oh I believe you on that... It’s just... Do you really think you can get all of that done tonight?”

“Yeah, I should be done around midnight. One in the morning at the latest.”

“Ivy, that’s way too late! You’ve got classes tomorrow, you need to sleep.”

“Hard. Work. I don’t sleep until I’m done. And the more questions you ask the longer it’ll take. Now shut up and let me work.”

And so I did, after pouring us each a cup of tea, which she begrudgingly but politely accepted after I insisted that no, I don’t have any maté. I then spent some time thinking about my next moves, some time working on my classes, some time chatting with her. Things quickly became comfortable, once the awkwardness of letting her into my private space was over. She was clearly enjoying herself, perhaps even more so than she expected herself.

We actually found a few topics that we could relate to each other on. Our relationships with our respective families (my grandma notwithstanding) are equally strained, albeit for completely different reasons, for one. We even found out that we have fairly similar tastes in music.

Crazy how even the most different people can almost always find one or two things in common, a bridge to bond over and a stepping stone to letting us appreciate not just our similarities but also our differences.

Eventually, she seems satisfied with her organisation of my mess, and stretches as she gets ready to move on to the dusting phase.

As I turn around to look at her, I can’t help but notice a hint of rosiness in her cheeks. Not enough for it to be arousal, or at least not on a conscious level, but between this and her uncharacteristically happy smile, it looks like her path effect is slowly starting to take root.

Perfect timing.

“Oh, Ivy, you’re not going to take care of the dust like this, are you?”

“What do you mean?” She asks with a lot less venom in her voice than usual, as her enjoyment of this evening is clearly making it harder for her to keep up her mask of detached authority.

“I mean, you’ll get dust all over your uniform. Hold on, I have an idea...” I trail off, grabbing the piece of fabric I’d strategically hung on the cupboard door, before unfolding it into a plain white cooking apron.

Granted its vibe is closer to barbecue dad than elegant maid, but baby steps. I’m just planting the seeds here.

“Oh, thank you! That looks...” She loses her train of thought for a second, almost mesmerised by the garment in front of her. “That looks really nice.”

It’s working, which means I can move on to step two.

“And you’ll need something to protect your hair... Ah, I know just the thing!” I exclaim with maybe just a bit too much enthusiasm to be believable, but she looks too focused on checking out how she looks in her new apron to notice my bad acting.

I reach for my bedside table and pull out the lace doily I’d placed there earlier.

“It’s not really meant for that, but if you tie it into your hair it’ll help protect you.”

There are at least a dozen objects in this room that would be better at protecting her hair from dust. I mean, the main ingredient of this doily is holes, with fabric only a distant second.

But putting that lacy affair into her hair and using it as a ribbon would go a long way in completing the maid look, albeit in a somewhat makeshift way.

“Oh! Yeah... I like that...” She mumbles, still coming to terms with her own reaction.

She gently takes the doily from my hand and retreats into my bathroom to get everything just right.

I let her take her time, and instead take a look at how she’s organised my things. It’s definitely a different logic than mine, or rather my lack thereof. She’s given thought to putting items that are often used together close to each other, she’s considered the size and shape of my limited storage space, she’s alphabetised my books while keeping some separate when it made sense to do so. It’s all very clever, and it shows how organised she can be as a person.

I think I could really get used to having her around like this. When I get some more living space, that is.

“You were right, I feel much safer with this. It just feels... right. Guess you’ve got some sense of style after all.”

“Guess you’ve learned to listen to me after all,” I answer as I turn around to face her.

She seems to have rolled up the doily, leaving only a small, triangular patch of fabric up in the middle, giving it the general shape of a tiara. Looking down, she seems to have folded up the front of the apron, making it a bit shorter and narrower than it was at first, its new shape held together by what looks like hair pins, which she no longer needs thanks to her new headpiece.

I realise that I’ve been staring for just a bit too long, and she clearly notices, if her confident, knowing smirk is anything to go by.

“So you like this, don’t you?” she asks in a voice halfway between teasing and mocking, as if she herself didn’t know whether she found my interest arousing or embarrassing.

“Oh I very much do,” I respond calmly.

Denying it would be too obvious a lie, and admitting it enthusiastically would send a clear signal that she’s in control, which isn’t what I want right now. Being honest yet cool about it is the best way forward.

“What is it that does it for you? Is it that little thing?” She asks as she wiggles the doily with her finger. “Is it the apron? Is it watching me do all your chores? Let me guess, you want me to be your little servant girl?”

Oh, I see what’s happening here.

“I certainly wouldn’t complain. You can even keep the apron if you’d like.”

She’s rationalising it. She doesn’t understand why she’s enjoying wearing these so much, and why the idea of being my maid is so enticing to her, so her brain interprets it as her doing all of this for me, not for herself. It’d be a much easier thing to admit that she’s sacrificing herself to please me than to simply accept the simple truth that she wants nothing more than to be my maid.

It’ll pass though. Eventually, she won’t need to find reasons and excuses to simply indulge in what she likes. Rationalisation is a powerful tool.

“Oh I’ll find a better one. I bet you’d rather have me wear a frilly little thing that doesn’t even protect from any dust!”

“I’ll admit that this particular apron isn’t the best fit for you. I’m sure you’ll find something much more up to your tastes eventually,” I reply, making a conscious effort not to mention the fact that she’s currently wearing a ‘frilly little thing that doesn’t even protect from any dust’ on her head.

“I will, just you wait! But I guess this’ll do for today. Now, let’s get back to work!”

Her pride is honestly quite endearing. She wants to wear a stereotypical maid outfit so bad, but she’ll do whatever she can to make it sound like she doesn’t.

But for now, I’ll let her finish her work.

---

It takes her another hour to get everything cleaned up and stored up and, once again, it’s clear she’s having a great time. She is making a bit more of an effort to hide it, out of pride, but I catch her smiling on more than one occasion when she thinks I’m not looking. At one point, she even had to stop her work for a few seconds and sat down on the bed with her eyes closed, her thighs clamped together and visible difficulty controlling her breathing, which tells me the sexual aspect of her path is properly starting to bloom.

But eventually, she’s done.

She takes a step back and stretches her arms and spine as she looks at her work in well deserved satisfaction.

My room is simply impeccable. She found a place for everything, she cleaned up every nook and cranny, she somehow even managed to make it feel slightly more spacious than it did before. It even smells larger.

“Alright,” She says. “I think that’s it for tonight...”

I do see a tiny hint of disappointment crossing her eyes when she says that, as the happiness of accomplishment makes way for this tiny hint of grief at being fully done with something she enjoyed so much.

I can’t just let her leave my room disappointed, after everything she’s done for me, can I?

“Thank you, Ivy. I really appreciate it.”

“You better. Feel free to call me if you need more help, whenever, okay? You know what, scratch that, I’ll just swing by every week and make sure it’s still good.”

“Sounds good to me. But I still want to properly thank you... What was it you said you liked as rewards?”

“Oh! Erm, I guess I like the usual stuff, you know. Spanking, groping, bending over, sucking on your finger...”

Bingo, I knew I remembered her mentioning that last one a few days ago. A perfect way in.

“Hm. That all sounds quite nice, but what you did for me today was quite special, and so you deserve a special reward, don’t you think?”

“Couldn’t agree more,” She replies, with a lot more confidence. “I absolutely deserve it. What do you have in mind?”

“Hmm...” I mumble in pretend reflection. “Well, that thing you said about sucking my finger, maybe we could take it to the next level.”

“How so?”

“Well, how about you tell me what you like about doing it? Maybe then we can find how to improve it.”

“I mean I guess it’s just relaxing, y’know?”

“Is it something about having something in your mouth?”

“I guess so...”

Alright, this is going to be an awkward transition in the conversation. There’s no way I can get her where I want her without the app doing some heavy lifting, so I guess there’s no point in beating around the bush too long.

“Maybe we could replace the finger with something... a bit thicker?”

A beat goes by.

And then another.

We don’t break eye contact, but I find it difficult to read her emotions.

“Are you asking me to suck your dick?”

One more beat.

Not much point in lying, is there?

“Yeah. Why not? You like sucking on my finger, having something in your mouth, so why not try something a bit different? I mean, they’re both body parts, they’re both kind of the same shape, it’s just that one is larger. You find sucking on my finger to be relaxing, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Well, sucking on a penis is even more relaxing, you’ll see. It’ll make you feel comfortable, focused on the present, on yourself. It’s simply going a level beyond. Surely you know that if you’ve already sucked someone off before. You have, haven’t you?”

“Yeah of course I have!”

You responded half a second too late, Ivy. You’re a good liar, but not good enough to fool me, not after all the practice I’ve been getting lately.

And if she’s never done it before... That means I’m free to bullshit her and she’ll be none the wiser.

“Well, didn’t you feel relaxed after doing it last time? It’s like...” My eyes dart around the room in search of an apt analogy, before landing on the two empty cups we used earlier, the only two things she didn’t clean and store in their rightful place. “It’s like a nice cup of tea. It fills you with a sense of plenitude when you’re enjoying it, and then it helps you focus and get things done.”

Now this last argument was simply a way to make sure that I’m respecting my rules. If she thinks blowing me makes her feel that way, then she actually will, and it will be a good source of relaxation and focus.

“Does it really..? I mean, yeah, I guess I kinda did feel like that.”

“And I bet it’ll be even better now. You’re always striving to improve, aren’t you, Ivy?”

“Yeah! You know I hate half assing stuff.”

“Well then, surely it’ll feel even better this time around. It’ll be like an epiphany, I’m sure you’ll realise how much you enjoy it.”

“I...” She trails off as her eyes lose their focus.

“And after that, I’m certain you won’t have any qualms about doing it again. It’ll be like second nature. You’re going to love it!”

“I’m going... to love it... I’m going to love it... I’m going to love it!”

-20 BS. 10 remaining.

A bit more expensive than I hoped. Guess my argumentation wasn’t as good as I assumed it would be. Good thing I got those extra safety BS.

Ivy’s face goes through a spectrum of emotions as her mind absorbs its new belief.

After just a few seconds, her gaze regains its sharpness, and she looks me dead in the eye.

“Well, guess there’s no harm in trying. We’ll see how I feel afterwards. You talk too much though. If I’d known you’d go off on a little speech like that, I would’ve just asked for ten bucks.”

“Let’s hope you keep that in mind next time. Although I’m somewhat confident you’ll want something else than money by then,” I smile as I invitingly spread my legs out.

She seems uncertain of what to do for a second, but eventually she gets the message and kneels down in front of me.

“You sure you’re okay with this?”

“If I weren’t okay with it I wouldn’t be down here. Now open up!”

I undo my belt buckle and the top button of my trousers, shifting my position just enough to shuffle them off. I need to bring my knees back together to get them all the way off, which forces Ivy to move back a little bit, but soon enough, only my underwear and a few centimetres of air separate her mouth from its “reward”.

I might be imagining things, but I think I can just about feel her breathing through the fabric.

She seems eager, but there’s an awkwardness and an uncertainty to her demeanour that betrays her inexperience in this.

I slip my thumbs underneath the hem of my boxers and begin pulling down.

Her eyes don’t seem to react much to the sight, clearly it’s not the first time she sees a naked man, which tells me that while she’s never blown anyone, she’s probably had some form of sexual experience before.

My boxers are just elastic enough that I can get them around my knees without needing Ivy to step back again.

And here we are.

Ivy’s beautiful face, soberly made up, her raven black hair tied together by her makeshift maid tiara, all mere inches from my manhood.

There’s an uncertain trembling in her usually stiff lips, as if she simultaneously wanted to speak, stay silent, and open wide.

Eventually, the latter wins out, and her mouth parts open, just barely.

She approaches her head and slowly, ever so slowly, wraps her lips around my shaft, her teeth just barely brushing against my skin; a strange but unexpectedly pleasant sensation that helps bring me to full mast.

The fact that she just went for it so directly is another hint at her lack of experience, but I’m more than confident that she will improve very quickly.

Something’s changing in her eyes. The awkwardness is leaving, and it soon makes room for a much more relaxed expression. Just like I told her.

And once the relaxation settles in, she starts following her instincts, her head starting a slow and steady motion of back and forth. There’s still some tooth, but it’s no dealbreaker. Soon, I feel as if my own magic was working on me, as all my own anxiety seemingly leaves my body. My shoulders slowly drop into a completely serene position. I can almost feel the slight stress wrinkle on my forehead fading away under Ivy’s devoted attention.

As inexperienced as she may be, she definitely understands the importance of rhythm, and she slowly picks up her pace as she goes. I feel a pressure rising inside of me, close, but not quite there.

I just want to bask in this moment forever. The warmth of Ivy’s mouth, the still uncertain motions of her tongue, her surprisingly good pacing; what more could I ever ask for?

“I’m... close,” I tell her breathily, to give her time to adjust herself.

She doesn’t move back though. She just keeps her steady back and forth, her eyes now locked onto mine, with a regained composure that much better fits her.

Bring it on say her eyes.

And I come.

---

It takes me a few seconds to come back to my senses and notice Ivy letting go of my member. Her expression is back to the ambivalence it had before, as she seems unsure of what to do with what I left in her mouth.

Eventually, she makes up her mind, and I see her larynx rise and fall as she decides that swallowing is the best course of action.

She blinks a few times in confusion, as if she weren’t sure what to think of the taste, unable to tell whether she liked it or not.

It’s a strange reaction. Most people simply don’t like it. I wonder if the app has anything to do with it.

“Thank you, Ivy,” I finally break the silence.

She raises her eyes to meet my gaze once again, still kneeling between my legs.

“I, erm, don’t mention it. It was my reward, not yours.”

The way she told me not to mention it was much closer to a command than the cookie cutter polite expression it usually is.

“That’s true. How do you feel?”

“Focused and ready to get shit done. Which kinda sucks, cause all I have left to do tonight is go to bed.”

“Well, hopefully next week it won’t take you so much time, so you’ll still have time to do a few things after your reward, eh?”

“Oh it better not take as much time. You keep this room in good shape, okay?” She demands with just a hint of threat in her voice, before realising that if I keep my room too orderly, she won’t be able to spend time cleaning it as much as she’d like. “Although... I guess a bit of untidiness is okay... and I could take care of your classroom too? Or... maybe we can try and get you a better room. You know, to help you focus on restoring order to the school and all.”

“A better room... That does sound like a good idea. We’ll think about it.”

“Great! Or whatever. I, er, I should get going.”

She seems a bit embarrassed. I don’t think she intended to show her hand to such an extent, but she couldn’t hold herself back.

“Alright, thanks again Ivy. And have a good night,” I tell her with a warm smile.

“Good night, sir.”

---

She really did do a fantastic job tonight. And not just on the room. I feel like all the stress and anxiety that had been building up inside of me has simply disappeared in a puff of smoke.

I step out of the shower, dry myself off, and look through my tiny wardrobe to find it exquisitely well organised. Every last piece of garment carefully folded with the mathematical accuracy of a master topologist and geometric beauty of origami cranes.

I pick out a simple pair of pyjamas for the night and sit down on my bed.

It’s quite obvious that a new path option for Ivy most likely awaits me on my phone, but I felt that immediately opening the app and picking one would bring me out of my simple enjoyment of the present, so I decided to shower beforehand.

But now’s the time.

---

XP +2! Next level in 8.

Cash +2! Total: 2.

New path unlocked for Ivy Klaus.

Available Path, Oral Fixation.

Please select on of the following options:

1. A Void to Fill

   “Having something in my mouth is so relaxing.”

   Target will feel most comfortable when she has something with which to fill her mouth. Any item that is neither food nor unsanitary will have a modicum of effect, but the larger and more phallic in shape, the better. The user’s penis will have the strongest effect of all. Target’s demeanour will become more sexually suggestive with any item she uses for that purpose, and she will come to casually keep something in her mouth in most situations.

2. An Acquired Taste

   “That taste was pretty good... and I do feel more focused.”

   Target will grow to enjoy the taste of semen --- more specifically the user’s. Consuming it will have an effect similar to caffeine, giving her a burst of energy and improving her ability to focus for long periods of time, albeit to a much greater extent. Unlike caffeine, there will be no anxiogenic effect, but the substance will be slightly addictive.

---

An oral fixation. Just what I had hoped.

Considering I accidentally made her opposed to the idea of performing any other sexual act on me, this was kind of my only way forward with her, but I’m not really sad about missing out on the rest. Sure, getting a handjob or having something more intense with her would’ve been very nice, but the thought of having someone who simply loves sucking on my dick all day long more than makes up for it.

Looks like my two paths focus either on the act of sucking itself, or on turning her into a, well, a cumslut, for lack of a better term.

It’s good that the one about having things in her mouth specifically rules out food as a source of it. It could’ve lead to her developing an unhealthy relationship with food otherwise.

I think for a few seconds, but it doesn’t take me too long to make my decision.

I tap the screen and lock my choice in.

---

---

---

Five. Thousand. Words.

A new record, by nearly a thousand words. I knew this would be a long chapter, but not to this point. Truth be told, I considered splitting it into two, but I couldn't find a good spot to do it without it breaking the pacing, so here we are. Thank you for reading all of this! I hope it wasn't too much.

In any case, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It was a lot of fun to write.

As usual, feel free to tell me which of the two options you'd like us to pick and why.

See you all soon!