Lisa meets her master

Maja followed the two girls with her eyes as they lined up in the bedroom. She could not take her eyes off the new girl - Lisa - as she clasped her hands in front of her thin nightgown and nervously raised her eyes. She stood barefoot on the carpet, slightly trembling and clearly fighting the impulse to drag hem of her gown farther down the pale, almost white thighs. Her plump breasts heaved in an unsteady rythm, betraying her anxious mind. She clenched her toes in the carpet while Maja and her husband examined her with quiet stares.

"Where did you find this?" Maja finally asked her husband. "She is wonderful."

"Truly. The daughter of an old friend who recently moved to the New Country. He could not afford to take the whole family with him."

"Poor thing," she said. "Ww'll just have to take care of her here." She gently stroked Lisa's cheek. "Are you nervous, sweetie?"

"A little," Lisa admitted.

"I understand. But there's no need to."

"Do you know why you're here?" asked Sigvard.

"Yes."

"How do you know that?"

"I saw you once," Lisa admitted, her face turning red. "When you ... did things with Sara."

"And what did I do?"

"I saw you..." her blush deepened. "whipping her. On the ass with a cane, and... between the legs. And then she your manhood in her mouth."

"And how did seeing that make you feel?"

The poor maid swallowed, but the stiff, extruding buds showing through the gown spoke its own language. "Warm ... and wet between the legs."

"You mean you were horny?"

The redness spread wider. She seemed unsure of how to respond. "Yes," she mumbled, glancing at the carpet.

"There is no shame in that," said the farmer. "It's a natural feeling. Did you fantasize about taking Saras place? To feel the cane against your own bum?"

"Little, then."

"And now?"

"Yes," Lisa whispered. She looked shyly down at the carpet, with shame written through the red on her marvelous little face.

"So you want to be like Sara? Ours, to be used as we wish?"

"Yes-" She cleared her throat. "Yes, I want that."

"Then, before you truly make your decision, I have to explain some rules." He sat in his armchair in the middle of the room, a glass of wine in his hand as he talked. "As long as you are here, you are our ****. You do as we please without protest, whatever we ask of you. But ... we will only ask you once. We will not repeat ourselves. It's up to you then to decide whether to obey or not. No one is forcing you to be here, and that will continue to be the case. And if you choose to leave, it will not be held against you, nor threaten your job. You are still employed as a maid here and we will to take care of you. But you can not return here, to our room, the next night. Or the nights after. Do you understand?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes."

"And you call me 'master' when you address me."

"Yes, master."

"Good." He stayed quiet a few seconds, probably to see if she was considering leaving. But when she remained still he nodded with a satisfied grunt. "Sara sweetie, unbutton her nightgown."