Blackmail Breeds Resentment

[monique_minx]

OOC: Closed for Asobininryochan and myself. If you have any feedback, please feel free to PM either of us. Enjoy the tale!

Geneva Wolf watched out of her window as the limousine rolled into the long driveway, she hadn’t dared to touch much of the inside of the cab although the driver had said that the Master welcomed her to anything she might like.

It was a long sad story of how she had come to be indebted to Mr. Widjaja. Her father had been in an accident some years ago when a press had shut down on his arm and consequently refused to budge. It had taken hours to free him, the nerve damage was irreparable and he lost use of his right arm completely. His body occasionally spasmed or a limb would move of its own accord as a result of the extensive nerve damage. Physio hadn’t helped and Geneva’s father stopped going, he was hooked on his pain killers – particularly morphine. His gambling addiction seemed to worsen as the years passed, her mother had no idea how bad it had gotten until one day, she received a letter from the owner of their home stating that they would be out in the streets due to six months of unpaid rent.

Her mother had extensive and aggressive breast cancer, the medical bills and gambling debts were mounting. Geneva had gone to work to help but minimum wage paid so little that it barely assisted her parents at all. Finally the nail on the head came in the form of a demand letter from a little known billionaire recluse named Martin Widjaja. Apparently her father had gotten far in over his head at the blackjack table and taken a loan from Mr. Widjaja who now wished to collect on it.

Having no money to offer him, Geneva’s mother wrote back in desperation and told Martin of her aggressive cancer and how her daughter was working hard to put food on the table. She pleaded on behalf of Geneva’s younger sister Dana who was barely eight years old and needed a roof over her head. Martin had written back, his tone was sympathetic and he offered a deal – Geneva could come to live in his home where he would pay her double what she was currently earning. Half of which would repay the debt and cover her board, the other half she could send home to her parents. Geneva’s mother couldn’t stop her even if she wanted to, Geneva took it upon herself to write back and accept Mr. Widjaja’s offer. He even paid for her plane ticket and passport (she had never needed one before).

She soon discovered that Martin Widjaja actually owned the small island where he lived and had many servants within his manor. The limousine driver opened the door and Geneva stepped out, her Summer dress fluttered in the cool breeze, Winter would be upon them soon and she intended to enjoy every moment left of the warmer months.

“I’ll get your bags Miss.” The limousine driver told her, his nametag read ‘Jerome’ and Geneva noted it while thanking him with a smile.

She followed Jerome into the house where a man in a very sharp grey suit met her, “I am Caleb Pollard, the steward and director of the Widjaja mansion. If you will follow me please, Jerome will take your bags to your room.”

Geneva nodded and smiled, “Thank you. Wow. I can’t believe the house is so big that you need a director! What do you do?” She asked curiously but respectfully, in awe of the grandeur of the entry to the home.

The floors were marble while the staircase was doublewide with varnished wooden bannisters and ornately carved with care. There was strategically placed pot plants and artwork – mainly portraits of people Geneva didn’t know.

“I direct the servants to their jobs each day – I split this duty between myself and the matron whom you shall report to each morning. I convey reports and issues to Mr. Widjaja, organize any repair work or renovations and ensure food deliveries occur on schedule among other duties.” He answered with a no nonsense reply and Geneva merely nodded, following him upstairs and through a corridor until a large oak door loomed before them.

Caleb knocked twice and then entered, it was a study of sorts with a large antique desk dominating the centre of the room, bookshelves filled with an array of complex textbooks and classic novels surrounded the walls. In the beautiful brown leather backed chair sat Martin Widjaja himself.

“Sir, this is the young lady Geneva Wolf that you have been expecting. I thought it best to bring her to discuss any conditions with you due to her…unique situation.” Caleb gave a stout bow of his head.

Geneva merely stood, her hands clasped as she waited and prepared herself to take in everything Mr. Widjaja had to say before she then had to absorb her duties as well.

 

[Asobininryochan]

“Thank you, Pollard,” Mr. Widjaja said as he assessed the new maid. Her bosom pleased Martin and he mused on the ways he might play with them as Mr. Pollard left the room. Running his eyes downward – he silently remarked on her narrow waist – a very desirable trait in a woman as he addressed Geneva:

“Would you please come closer, Ms. Wolf?” While waiting for her to approach him, the billionaire gazed downward to her lovely hips. He involuntarily licked his lips as he wondered how her pussy looked and tasted underneath the obstructing articles of clothing that hid her body from his view. Indeed, he found her legs arousing as she stood erect by the doorway; and he wanted to spread her thighs apart – thrusting his manhood inside her as he calmly added:

“There’s no need to feel uncomfortable,” he explained as his perception detected the slightest hint of apprehension from Geneva. “I am simply evaluating your assets in person,” as he stared at her feet (and contemplated pressing her soles together and fucking the space created by her arches) the master of the house further explained, “in order for you to possess a proper fitting uniform.”

Mr. Widjaja then stood and summoned Pollard back into the room. “Pollard,” he stated upon the man’s return, “you may bring the seamstress.” After the steward replied, “Of course, sir,” and departed, he returned his attention to Geneva.

“However,” he paused when the seamstress - a woman wearing a traditional wrap-around dress that left the upper half of her body bare – arrived with notepad and measuring tape, “I should leave such things to the professionals.” With a nod from master, the seamstress then turned to Geneva and asked, “May I take your measurements, miss?”

 

[monique_minx]

Geneva was a little unnerved by Martin’s appraisal of her but she stepped forward as requested and clasped her hands in front of her, listening as attentively as she possibly could. Her faded blue jeans rested comfortably about her hips and her crisp white blouse crinkled beneath the weight of her arms. Her hair had been pulled into a neat bun but during her travels, it had become disheveled and hairs were pulling free of it in places. Her shoes was sensible and plain black flats, nothing special. They’d cost her $2 in a bargain bin and she’d hoped her employer didn’t expect her to have a fantastic wardrobe.

She was surprised by the call for a seamstress, typical employers had merely asked her size and handed over the appropriate, cheaply made uniform she could pay off with each paycheck. The seamstress entered and Geneva quite forgot her manners, her jaw dropped and she blushed; turning her head away quickly. The woman's breasts were exposed and the dress started in a boob tube fashion just beneath them. She tried to remember her high school culture classes and felt suddenly quite ashamed of herself. Women of African and Islander cultures all over the world dressed in similar fashions. Just because she was unaccustomed to it, didn't make it wrong.

Geneva looked up and nodded when the seamstress asked Geneva if she could take her measurements, "Yes, of course."

As the seamstress got to work swiftly, Geneva looked up to find Martin staring at her and she decided this was as good a time as any to ask about her position, "What duties will be expected of me Sir? What hours and days will I be expected to work?"

 

[Asobininryochan]

“Your duties,” he started saying as his eyes wandered around her body – especially the areas measured by the seamstress’s tape, “shall begin tomorrow.” Mr. Widjaja then summoned another servant who arrived with a cup of jasmine tea. After drinking the beverage, he went on to give Geneva more details about her job.

“From sunrise you shall help the other maids clean the guest rooms,” he paused for a moment to sign a document that required his immediate attention. Before putting his signature, he conversed with Pollard in Indonesian. After quickly signing and initialing in several places; he returned to explaining Geneva’s duties in his household:

“You shall have breaks to eat your meals and retire to your chamber at the end of the day.” At the same time he addressed Geneva, he scanned the information contained within a manila folder. Mr. Widjaja highlighted some passages and made notations on the margins when Pollard came with a telephone.

Attempting to disguise his annoyance, Mr. Widjaja accepted the call and spoke to the other person on the line in Chinese. Once the conservation ended, he continued talking to Geneva: “When all the bedrooms have met my satisfaction, you will receive a day off before accepting your next task.”

He appeared disappointed when he downed the rest of his lukewarm tea. More issues needed his approval and other pressing points required his decision. Meanwhile, Geneva waited for minutes while Mr. Widjaja attended to other matters. When he realized that she still stood there in the middle of his office, he said: “Have you any other questions, Ms. Wolf?”

 

[monique_minx]

Geneva listened as Mr Widjaja listed off her duties and how things would run. Her pay had already been discussed in letters between her family and him. She watched as he signed various documents and spoke many languages. Her eyes wide with fascination at how busy he appeared to be. She nodded at various intervals while the seamstress prodded her to move her arms and legs while taking down her measurements with a speed Geneva had never seen.

Finally the seamstress was done and Geneva was unsure of what she was supposed to do now. She didn't know where her room was or whether she should be starting work immediately or not. She waited until Martin addressed her again, seemingly startled by the fact that she was still there.

"Uh no, well, just one." She admitted shyly, "I don't know where my room is or if I am to start today or where the bathroom or dining areas and kitchen are." She blushed.

"I was brought straight to your office and told my bags were being taken to my room..." She fidgeted.

 

[Asobininryochan]

“Normally, I would have Pollard guide you in order to familiarize you with the estate.” Mr. Widjaja responded hastily while signing more papers presented to him by the aforementioned steward. Motioning for Pollard to bend over and listen to him in confidence, Martin once again spoke to Geneva (while his attendant exited the room):

“Since he is preoccupied with other matters,” he paused when Pollard returned with a girl similarly attired as the seamstress. After recognizing their presence, he continued talking to Geneva, “I will let Maya show you around.”

She wore an elaborately patterned sarong of batik fabric. Unlike the seamstress, however, Maya wore her wraparound with the intent of exposing more of her body, which only covered the girl from just below her navel to the top of her knees. She then extended her right hand in greeting as she approached Geneva, saying, “I’m so happy to meet you, Geneva.”

Soft and manicured; Maya’s hand looked more like that of a model than a maid. Her straight teeth shined brightly – conveying trustworthiness (and confidence) to Geneva. Furthermore, her perfect skin showed no tan lines and seemed to naturally glow bronze in the island’s tropical climate.

Indeed, Geneva’s enthusiastic guide quickly switched from offering to shake her hand to hugging the newcomer. Pressing her dark, pert nipples into the other girl’s chest as she added: “I’m sure, we’re going get along splendidly!”

Her proximity allowed Geneva to inhale the sweet aroma of the champak flower placed next to Maya’s ear. The silky quality of her long, black hair – that swept down past her buttocks - contrasted with her supposed occupation; but before those thoughts crossed Geneva’s mind, Maya had already freed Geneva from her hug and gently (but eagerly) pulling the new arrival with one hand.

“Come on! I’ll show you around!” she exclaimed as she led Geneva out of the office. Afterwards, looking back at Geneva, she asked, “So where would you like to see first?”

 

[monique_minx]

Geneva could not hide her complete shock of this half naked woman pulled her into a hug. Geneva didn’t hug her back. This was more than just a personal space invasion. Geneva smiled and nodded rather awkwardly and tried not to show how uncomfortable she was with Maya’s nudity.

She followed Maya out of the room with a half glance back at Martin Widjaja on her way out. She certainly hoped he wasn’t expecting her to dress like that!

When Maya asked what Geneva would like to see first, Geneva shrugged, “I don’t really know. This place is huge. I guess…well, what do you do for fun when you’re not working? I really like the outdoors and I do a lot of active stuff. I guess I would also like to see my room; it was a long flight.” Geneva admitted, trying to avoid staring at Maya’s chest while feeling completely culturally unequipped to deal with this sort of thing.

 

[Asobininryochan]

“I’ll show you!” she screamed as she pulled Geneva to their destination: a beach where the staff (apparently all female) frolicked in the nude. A group played volleyball while some sunbathed next to the lapping waves. Other, though, waded in the water giggling as the water crashed against their unclothed bodies. As a surfer ran after her board – floating away with the tide – Maya looked at Geneva to say:

“Some of the girls like to relax here…” as she leaned in close to Geneva, Maya also added, “but the boss doesn’t like us to have any tan lines.” Then hanging her sarong on a palm tree, Maya rushed to water. When she noticed that Geneva had not followed her, she yelled back, “Come on! Take off your clothes and join me!”

She spontaneously laughed as her partially spread legs felt the surging water flow past her sex. The moisture left her black pubic hair glistening in the bright sun. As she immersed herself and swam away from the beach, she turned back to add, “The water’s great!”

True to her mercurial nature, Maya suddenly turned around after swimming toward a nearby island. As her body left the ocean’s embrace, her skin shined with seawater as she closed the distance between her and Geneva. Hugging the newcomer once more, she then asked, “Do you want to stay or check out your room?”