The French Maid Act 01 Scene 01

Oct. 23,

Dear Gwenevere:

Thanks for implanting the image of you dressed in a French maid outfit firmly in my mind. You know, there will be no rest for me until I see you in this, and you are a cruel, cruel woman for doing this to me. So, this is your punishment:

I want you to write to me every day for the next eight days and describe for me, in excruciating detail, one piece of the costume each day.

Tell me:

• What the part of the costume is, and describe it in intricate detail, as if I've never seen something like that before

• Why you think this particular piece is sexy

• Why you believe I would think it's sexy

• Describe to me how you would put it on

• Describe to me how you would take it off (or have me take it off you. And if it's me doing the taking off, why would I want to. Or, what's in it for me?)

This will be your script for Halloween. If your performance is satisfactory there will be many "treats" for you. If not, I may have to pull out my bag of "tricks." Are you up for the challenge?

DB

Oct. 24,

David:

Although I'm sure that you know how much I enjoy treats, I'm also quite intrigued by your kinky sounding "bag of tricks." Therefore, I choose tricks, and you will have to wait to see my costume until I choose to show you. Perhaps we can find time for a private Halloween party. I'll provide the treats and will be waiting in anticipation to know what tricks you have in store for me.

C

Oct. 25,

Bonjour Gwenevere:

Non, non, non! That is not how this game is played, mon cheri.

Surrendering before making an attempt is not acceptable. This leads me to assume a great many bad things about you. First, you many not even have a French Maid's costume. Second, you may not have a clue about how to act like a French Maid. Have you been practicing your accent? Have you been exercising your wrists so that when you feather-dust you are using only your wrists and not your entire arm?

And, the most difficult move that will prove once-and-for-all that you have what it takes to be a true French Maid: wearing your stiletto heels, bend at the waist (never at the knees) to pick something up, while at the same time looking over to the Lord of the Manor to make sure he is noticing that your tiny, ruffled skirt is rising up over your lovely, spankable bottom. And accomplish this while looking like the most sexy, desirable woman in the world, without falling over.

I do not think you should be so quick to choose my "tricks." I don't believe I ever claimed they would be kinky. They might not be. Depends on my mood.

So I am guessing, mon petit chat, that either you do not understand the game, or you wish not to devote seven days to creating increasingly hotter and hotter prose. Therefore, I will revise the deal. I will write the vignette, in three acts, each with several hot scenes that will culminate on Halloween night when we can see if we can stay true to the play, or if passion interferes and improv will rule the rest of the evening and into the morning hours. You only have to read, send me your comments, and tell me where to start the next scene.

The Preamble: You, mon beau French Maid, have completed a thorough dusting of my living room (using just a flicker of your dainty wrists with the feather duster), and slowly, almost coyly, bending over at the waist to pick up small bits of paper. Finally, after your work is finished, you slowly and sexily walk up to me as I am sitting in my chair.

Act One, Scene One:

Gwenevere: (In your most sexy French-accented voice) Monsieur, I believe I is feenished with cleaning. Ezz thair aaanyting else I can do to you? (Pause) I mean....for you?

Lord of the Manor: No, thank you, Cara. You may leave now.

Gwenevere: But monsieur, maybes you can help me? I must change out of thes uniform and into my clothes. My legs, they are very tired from wearing these shoes. Cooould you pleease 'elp me takes them off?

Standing in front of me you slowly raise your left leg and place your shoe on my right thigh. You are balancing on your right leg, but do not yet touch me to hold your balance.

"You just needs to undo this buckle," you say as you move your hand to your shoe, gesturing at what I need to do. You very slowly move your hand over my thigh and then up the front of your leg, over your knee and thigh as you shyly adjust your skirt.

I rest my right hand on your shoe and softly place my other hand just behind your ankle and calf. I slowly move both my hands up your legs with a soft and gentle caress. My hands change position, circling your fish-net clad leg as I slowly make my way down to the back of your shoe. I undo the clasp holding it in place and gently lift your leg so the shoe slides off your foot. This puts you off balance, and you reach out to my shoulder for support, and your hand lingers there. I place your shoe in my lap, as I am not done with it yet. I raise your foot slightly, moving my hand beneath it as I gently massage your tired and stiletto-tortured foot.

I move my hands back up your leg with soft, almost feathery caresses. With your leg on my thigh you stand before me, exposed, and as my hands move up to your thighs I notice your hips sway a little closer to me. While you are exposed to me, I try not to look. I instead move my face closer to your leg, planting soft kisses on the inside of your knee as my hands dance across your thighs, the tips of my fingers barely brushing the exposed skin of your bottom but carefully avoiding the area between your legs. I start to kiss a little further up your thigh, and you move your hips a little closer to my body. I take your shoe and slowly caress you with it, starting at the back of your calf and moving up, behind your knee and up to your thigh. I move it back and forth, using the tip of your shoe almost like a phallus as I slowly move it over your legs.

Your hand is still on me, moving from my shoulder to the back of my head for support. I move the shoe closer to the point between your legs and I tease you, moving it across the top of your panties and carefully sliding it between your legs but avoiding your lips or other sensitive areas. You know it's a tease, but you shudder in anticipation every time I get close. Suddenly I take the point of the shoe and press it just above your clitoris and move it in a straight line downward, brushing your most sensitive area and sliding the point of the shoe down over your lips. I toss the shoe behind you and gently lower your foot to the floor.

We repeat the process with you placing your other leg on my left thigh. This time the act is quicker and with more passion. I start with kissing your knee and caressing your lower leg and quickly undo your shoe. Like the last one, I keep this for now. I massage your foot with one hand while more aggressively moving my other hand across your thigh, under your bottom and back down to other leg. My caresses are firmer and faster, and my kisses along your leg are louder and more intense. My right hand grabs your butt and pulls your crotch closer to my face, but I never go past your mid thigh. The side of my face is almost touching you, and I can feel the heat and desire flowing from your body, and my heart beats faster as I smell your scent.

I play the same game with the other shoe, but continue with the intensity. I move it over your panties. I keep teasing you with the shoe. You know what I will do, but not when, as it moves almost randomly over your body. One moment the shoe brushes your clit, then it's my hand, then the back of my hand slides softly, almost imperceptibly, along your lips. You shudder again as tingles move through your body. You bite your lip to keep from uttering a soft moan. Suddenly my hand grabs your butt cheeks and pull you closer. Your hands are at the back of my head. You want my face and my mouth closer to your body, but I keep them on your leg. I place my hand softly on your crotch with a slight upward pressure, almost as I were trying to lift you. I feel your heat, and my face and lips move further up your thigh. You breath quickens as you hope to feel my lips replace my hand, but I don't go there. Not yet. My hands make one last journey across your lovely legs as if they are trying to memorize every inch of them.

Then I slowly move back and lower your foot back to the ground. I sit back and your hands leave my head and they fall at your sides. You look down at me, your lips are parted and you are starting to breath heavier. Your face is already taking on a slightly slacken, sensuous look. Your green-grey eyes are looking at me with desire and passion. You take a deep breath and utter in your most sexy French accent:

Gwenevere: Merci, monsieur. My legs feel soooo mush better. Now could you pleeease 'elp me take off....

Well, what should we take off next? Maybe that little thing that goes on your head. I'll need a little help with what it looks like. And, how will your hair be? Up, down, pony tail? What color will your lipstick be?

Au revoir, mon cheri.

Until tomorrow...

Lord of the Manor