Tell her to get cleaned up

“We're done here, Miss Kapadia.” I tell her as I put my belt back on with a contented smile on my face. I certainly didn't think I'd get to see my new tenant naked this soon, and the submissive way she accepted her punishment was a very good sign too. No need to rush things.

“Really?” Riya seems surprised by the abrupt dismissal, and maybe I'm imagining this, but I sense a hint of disappointment as well. Did she expect me to take advantage of her nakedness. It makes me wonder what her father might have done to the servant girls in India after he caned them. “Is that it?”

“For now. We'll figure out your full list of duties tomorrow.” I point to her inner thigh where the streak of vaginal fluid is clearly visible on her cinnamon-colored skin. “Go get cleaned up, Miss Kapadia, you're a mess.” Her face turns a darker shade of red as embarrassment makes her blush even more.

“Yes, Sir.” I watch as Riya gathers up the clothes scattered all over the floor and scurries up the steps. It doesn't take long before I hear the 'squeak' of the hot water facet and know that she's in the shower. It's tempting to barge in on her as she scrubs her caramel-colored skin, but there will be plenty of opportunities to check her out as long as I don't blow it.

I already pushed things way more than I ever thought I would when I first led this pretty Indian coed back to see my house. All in all, her totally fucking up the biriyani might have been the best possible start to this new relationship. There is a lot to work with here. No matter how **** her situation was, I cannot believe that a woman coming from her privileged background would let me punish her like that if she did not have a strong submissive nature and some kinks that needed more exploration.

As I watched the news, I tried to figure out what I wanted from this arrangement. The Little Princess scenario of the wealthy young woman **** to work as a menial housemaid is still very appealing. However, judging by how well things have gone so far, maybe I could take it even further.

I had played Master and **** games with Alison several different times including but not limited to John Norman's world of Gor and a pretty Victorian English woman captured by Ottoman Turks and sold in an auction to a lusty Mohammadian eager to defile a proud Christian virgin. With Riya's upbringing in India where skin tone seems to be still intertwined with the old caste system and social power I'm beginning to wonder if I might be able to have my own personal sex ****.

When I hear the 'squeak' of the shower knob I make it a point to get to the top of the steps and wait for her to emerge from the bathroom.

“About time.” I grumble when she steps out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Actually, Alison's showers would often last three or four times longer, but I'm pretty sure that's because she quite often took advantage of the pulsing showerhead to get herself off. More than once I considered getting a spycam to see exactly what she was up to, and now that Riya is going to be using that shower the idea sounds better than ever.

“I'm sorry, Sir.” For some reason, Riya looks even sexier standing here wrapped in her nerdy towel than she did completely naked bent over the kitchen counter. I like the timid student look a lot, and seeing her like this reminds me about what I said her full list of duties would entail.

“Well, OK then.” I push by her, enjoying the way her slight body is jostled by my much larger one. “I'm going to shower myself. I'll need you to help with the washing as soon as you're ready.” The way Riya's eyes open makes me want to smile, but instead I lower my brows and use my 'teacher' voice. “Unless you were lying about that too?” I see Riya's natural resistance crumble when she realizes what I might do if I catch her in another lie.

“No Sir.” She bites her lip nervously before straightening her back and meeting my gaze steadily. “Let me just put something on.”

By the time I've used the toilet, stripped down and stepped into the shower I hear a tentative knock at the door.

“Well, come in.” I growl as I turn back to the shower. I can't wait to see what this conservative young woman thinks is the right thing to wear when helping her employer wash, but it is important to keep up the allusion that this is all part of a normal job.