On your own tour around the house, doing minor housework

You start in the end you're in, with the kitchen. It's spacious, and you try to familiarize yourself with it, figuring out where everything is, checking what's in the fridge - it's well-stocked, and you assume that you'll have everything you need for meals this weekend. In one corner of the room, you see a familiar blinking green light.

The same is the case in the dining room. While you're there, you find yourself setting the tables. For three, of course. _When the family eats, you attend to them. You eat the remains afterwards, in the kitchen. _Even the regular housework has a small erotic touch to it, fueling your arousal. The thought that Master Fredericks could be watching excites you, and you find yourself 'dropping' a piece of cutlery, only to bend over to pick it up, exposing your butt for the camera.

Done, you go through all the other rooms in the first floor, checking them and seeing if anything needs to be done. You find cameras in every one of them. As you look through the library, you hear someone walking through the hallway just outside. You straighten up, anticipating someone coming in. But noone does, and seconds afterwards you hear the front door opening and closing.

In the study, next door to the library, you find evidence of recent use. Master Fredericks, you assume. It must have been him who just left. But why? You glance at the computer, still on, and to your horror and excitement you find that he had been watching you. There are still images, screenshots, from your bedroom, left open for anyone entering to see.

Anyone entering... that could only mean you. He must have done this on purpose. "Fuck...," you say out loud. This will have consequences.

But the consequences doesn't seem to come. The only incident of note is when Mistress Emily comes over, drops an expensive-looking ring, and tells you to bend down to get it. "No, not like that. At the waist." She grins at your humiliation, as you once again expose your butt and undergarments. "Look at that wet spot. You're a horny little slut, aren't you?" You don't reply, your cheeks (and your sex) burning.

"I'm sure Daddy will find plenty of use for you. Like he did our former maids since mom died. Used, and when they weren't satisfying him anymore, thrown out and replaced with a fresh, new model."

"You might be a bit different," she adds. "The others didn't always enjoy it, but I don't think that'll be a problem for you. You might get lucky..."

With that, she leaves, and you continue on, until you realize it's time to make dinner.