The day's not over yet

I'm more than a little surprised to find Riya waiting for me in the dark hallway when I come out of the bathroom a minute later.

“Mr. Patterson?” The young woman's voice is soft but earnest. “I'm sorry I took so long in the washroom.” She has put on some kind of night dress and robe, but it is hard to see exactly what in the dim light. “After you've been so good to me.” The way she is standing before makes me reconsider my earlier decision to send her away earlier. It's not that I mind waiting, but damn! This lovely young coed has me thinking all sorts of nasty things that I want to do to her.

Riya's nervous apology makes it clear that she is beginning to understand her role in this household. Now I have to get her used to obeying me.

“Well, like I said, next time it happens you might have company in there while you are showering.” I drop the pitch of my voice about half an octave to add gravity to the command. “Go to bed, Miss Kapadia. When you get home, I'll have a list of chores waiting for you.”

“Yes, Sir.” She does something that looks like a cross between a bow and a curtsy and turns obediently back to her the narrow door to her room. After the past couple of disappointing tenants, I am confident that Riya is going to be just what I'm hoping for. I still can't believe I manipulated this upper-class Indian beauty into letting me strip her naked and tan her ass. Next time, I decide as I watch that tight little ass disappearing into her bedroom, I'm going to use my hand so I can feel her firm cheeks heat up as I spank her.

The news is as depressing as ever with no sign of inflation going away and the war in Ukraine dragging on, but to be honest I don't even care. All I can think about is Riya and how good she looked coming out of the shower wrapped in that nerdy towel. It is not hard to picture what her slender body might look like with water streaming down between her small breasts. It's about twenty minutes later that I am climbing the stairs as quietly as I can, curious to see how Riya is settling into her tiny new quarters.

The door to her bedroom is closed, and I don't see any light through the slit at the bottom of the door, so I figure she is already in bed after this trying day. When this had been my older boy's bedroom, I had considered replacing the poorly fitted door with a heavier more soundproof version, but as a Dad I liked the fact that I could overhear parts of his conversations with his friends or know when he was playing video games late in the night. Now I'm glad I never did because as I stand silently outside the thin door, I can distinctly hear Riya's accented words.

“No, Master.” Accompanying the words is a soft squelching sound that makes my cock stiffen once again in my khakis. “Please, Sir. I'll do better next time.” Is she reliving the moment where she knows she will be punished? I listen even more closely. “Not that Master, you can't! Oh please, you have to stop ...” I had heard Alison masturbating like this often enough to know exactly what was going on, and I could just picture Riya's slender body jerking on the narrow bed as she played with herself. The part that particularly interests me is her use of the word Master. Remembering what she told me about how servants were punished in her house, I can only assume that she is imagining herself as the property of a powerful man, perhaps even her father caning one of the family's servant girls.

Riya's words become unintelligible, but the sounds of her grunts and whimpers is as loud as ever and I wish even more that I could see what she looked like right now.