Annoyed at your lateness

"You're late, Isabella," he chides you as you serve him. "I said 20 minutes, not 24."

"I'm sorry, Sir."

"That is twice that you're late, already, on your very first day as Isabella. I can't just let that slide. I'm responsible for this family, now. As the father of the family and the man of the house, it is my responsibility to make sure everyone sticks to their roles. And Isabella isn't someone who lets her Master wait. That much my new memory tells me. I don't really care if the change was 'a bit much'. You chose it, and now you've got to live with it. I can't have you slipping up. Slipping up is a risk. I won't have you endanger the lives of me or my children. If you do, I'm going to fire you and make sure you're sent back to Mexico. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Si... que?" You find yourself switching over to Spanish for a moment, in surprise. "Send me back to Mexico? But I'm not really Isabella, I'm Andy. I'm your son, too. You know that! You..."

"Quiet!" You stop mid-sentence. "It doesn't matter who you were. This is who you are, now." He shoves a hand up between your legs. "An obedient little Mexican cunt who lives to serve me. Who gets aroused by me treating her like shit." You whimper as he pushes a finger inside you. As wet as you suddenly are, it meets little resistance. "And you know what? I enjoy treating you like shit. That's the only sort of connection I feel towards Isabella. A strong urge to humiliate her, to use her, and knowledge that finding someone like her again would be exceedingly difficult. The only reason James-me has to keep you around is that you're a perfect match for my sexual desires. You'd do well to remember that."

His fingers slide out of you again, and he lifts his hand to your face. You know he wants you to lick your juices off his fingers. You do, of course, shaking. Half of it in dread, half of it because you're so incredibly aroused by your situation that you can hardly stand. You've really fucked up, you think to yourself for half a second. Not only have you become a poor maid, a girl who's nothing but a fucktoy for your former family, but you actually run the very real risk of being deported back to Mexico. At the same time, there's a part of you that really loves it all.

"I will remember, Sir," you say at last, as you slip the last finger out of your mouth. Your eyes dart to his crotch. He is definitely hard. He just sits there, doesn't say a thing. It takes you a few moments to realize the reason is that he wants you to ask to service him, to humiliate you even further. You swallow. "Sir, would you want me to... suck your dick while you eat?"