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From: "Taoman" <thomhobs@NOSPAMhotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} rv: Lisa, My Uncle's Maid 01/10 {Mf,nc,bd,oral,anal,spank,femdom}
Date: Wed, 22 Aug 2001 13:10:04 -0400
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LISA, MY UNCLE'S MAID

 By Taoman 

WARNING: STRONG ADULT CONTENT. NO MINORS!

Lisa, My Uncle's Maid copyright Taoman. The right of Taoman to be
identified as the author of this work has been asserted in
accordance with Section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights and Patents
Act 1988



  

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Bill Morgan for his valuable editorial
assistance.

Chapter One 

In my family my uncle had always been an enigma. I was told
during the Depression, while still a teenager, he had left home
and "went on his own". His later rare reappearances, which had
occurred at family funerals, were always unexpected. I remembered
him from these events, as well dressed, cultured and seemingly
very well off. It was at my mother's funeral, his sister, that I
had my first discussion with him as another adult. I was eighteen
then and with her death I was all that remained of his immediate
family. He questioned me regarding my academic status and seemed
to have some awareness of my many accomplishments. He approved of
my plans to pursue a career in law. I had told him I had applied
to several schools including Harvard.  He informed me of some
connections in Cambridge and that he could "pull some strings" to
possibly speed the process. 

Several weeks later I received my acceptance letter. Later during
my college years he also provided me with a generous allowance. 
This income ensured I never lacked for money. I had a suspicion
that his influence had been involved behind the many grants and
scholarships that came my way. Then on my graduation I found keys
to a late-model sports car and his card under my door at the
fraternity house.  When I called him with my profuse thanks he
laughed and told me to visit him. He said he needed to go
overseas for a period of time and needed someone to stay at his
home. I agreed as I had no pressing summer plans and a great
curiosity regarding my Uncle.

It was 1952 and a fresh New England spring morning. The new
warmth in the air hinted of the approaching summer. I was driving
south from Boston to New York City. I had the top down and I was
pushing my new Mercedes 190SEL to it's limits. 

Both my parents had been casualties of the war. First my father
had been lost in one of the first B-24 bombing runs over Germany.
His body was never recovered and the same could be said for my
mother. She mourned herself to the grave.  Her grief was so
profound that her will to go on with life slipped away.  She had
been unable to face the world without my dad. I had come home
from school and found her curled in bed. I thought she was
sleeping until I touched her cold arm. Then I noticed the empty
bottle of pills on her night side.

It seemed as if I had been sad all my life. I had buried my own
grief and loss in my books. The past years had been bleak and the
prospects of new happier days of promise and opportunity seemed
just over the next horizon

It was mid-afternoon when I reached the city and it took another
hour to locate the address. It was on the Upper East Side on a
quiet tree-lined side street. The building itself was an
unassuming brick four story that blended in with the other
apartments and commerce in the neighborhood. The small brass
plate on the door read THE MANHATTAN CLUB and then below in
smaller prints A GENTLEMEN'S SOCIETY.

I opened the door and entered another world. The small lobby was
furnished with several straight back chairs and a counter. I felt
myself being observed and I was suddenly conscious of my attire
with consisted of a bright undocked Hawaiian shirt and worn
khakis. A distinguished looking elderly man in a butler's uniform
was peering at me over the top of his spectacles. 

"May I help you, Sir?" he asked politely, but coolly.
 
I handed him my Uncle's card and he peered and it. He lifted his
bushy eyebrows and again looked at me. Then he smiled and his
demeanor changed.

"Welcome to New York City, Mr. Whitlock.  We have been expecting
you."

He unlocked a heavy door behind the counter and indicated I was
to follow him. This passage entered into a wood paneled hallway
with yet another heavy door at the far end. There was a small
opaque window at eyelevel, which my guide peered into. There was
a buzz and the door swung open. We entered a spacious room.  As
my eyes become accustomed to the subdued light I realized the
great size of the place. Considering the height of the ceiling
and the length of the floor it would be possible to play full
court basketball in the space. An ornate old-fashioned carved
wood bar ran the nearly the full length of one wall. I heard the
snick of a cue ball and noticed several pool tables highlighted
by islands of light. There was a low murmur of voices and I
determined there was a dozen or so men either playing pool or
sitting at the bar and tables. There was an aromatic mixture of
cigar smoke and old leather. 

The thick carpeting muffed our footsteps as we padded across the
room. Several well-dressed men at the bar turned and smiled at me
as we passed. I nodded in acknowledgment. I wished I had worn a
suit. 

We stopped at the far end of the bar and my guide fit a key in a
sliding panel, which opened to a small lift.

He stepped aside and motioned for me to proceed, "Your uncle is
expecting you."

The elevator rose smoothly and I counted three floors then the
doors slid open to steps which led to  a large living room. The
room was dark paneled and richly furnished with heavy plush
furniture. There was a roaring fire in stone fireplace. My uncle
was seated in a chair by the hearth. He arose, smiling, and
crossed the room. We hugged and he warmly told me how good it was
to see me and how pleased he was of my accomplishments. He said
my mom and dad would have been so proud of me. 

We sat by the fire, drank brandy and talked for several hours. We
discussed the war, my parents, school, Eisenhower and my future.
I was fascinated to hear another worldview, which was
diametrically opposed to what I had been taught at Harvard.
Finally he changed the subject and told me he needed a big favor.
He had extended overseas business to attend to and he needed me
to stay at his apartment and oversee his domestic concerns. I
modestly told him I had little business acumen, but he waved my
protestations aside and told me there was no experience really
needed. He smiled and said I would find the assignment actually
quite enjoyable. 

He noticed the brandy decanter was empty. 

"Let me introduce you to my house servant, Lisa" he said.

Reaching over to a side table he picked up a small silver bell
and rang it.  There was a silence and then I heard a hissed `no"
from an out of-sight hallway.



My uncle shook his head and sniffed in disdain.  "I apologize.
She is not happy with my new choice of apparel. With your arrival
I am afraid I had to implement a crude means of persuasion," he
stated.

 
. 
He opened a drawer under the table and motioned for me to come
closer. I leaned forward in my chair. The drawer swung open to
reveal a hidden electronic apparatus. 

"This equipment was made for me by a German scientist now working
for the US government. He owed me a favor," he said.  My uncle
flicked a toggle switch and there was an immediate electronic
hum, the panel glowed and several glass enclosed needles pegged
across clock-like meters then settled at different readings.  

"This controls the amount of voltage", he instructed. He turned a
large knurled knob and the hum changed tone and the meter's
readings flicked and rose. 

"The entire apartment is enclosed in an electronic field," he
explained.

I was puzzled by were this was all going, but I nodded as if I
understood.

"This button releases the shock," he said simply. 

 He pressed a red button and immediately I heard a high-pitched
female squeal.

 "Lisa, come...now" my uncle said in the direction of the cry. 

I was taken aback by the appearance of a beautiful young woman
hurriedly emerging from the hall. She had the olive complexion of
the Mediterranean with a full luscious mane of black hair falling
to her shoulders. Her dark green eyes glared angrily at my uncle
as she clicked across the wood floor in her high heels. She stood
before us and I was very impressed. She was the most beautiful
girl I think I had ever seen. 

She was dressed in a classic French maid's uniform. But my Uncle
had evidently had it tailored to his taste. The uniform was cut
in a fashion that any housekeeping duties beyond the bedroom
would be impossible. The tightly fit laced d**e9**collet**e9**
amply displayed her large bulging up-thrust breasts.  The frilly
lace that wisped across her deep cleavage only just covered the
brown of her aureoles. Lacy garters attached to her black net
silk stockings were visible at the hem of her very short silk
skirt. In her spike heels she stood at about five feet, four
inches. 

There was a large, thick black bejeweled leather collar around
her neck, which accented her exotic beauty. 

She stood with defiance under my frank appraisal. She had
attempted to tug her skirt down which had ridden high up her
thighs, but had only succeeded in pulling the top down to reveal
more of her bosom.   Now she stood before us with her hands
clenched in fists at her sides and a fire hinting in those
flashing eyes.

"This is John, Lisa', my uncle spoke in a mannered tone. "He is
to be the Master while I am away."

"Lisa again glared at my uncle. Then shook that black mass of
hair slightly in a negative way.  

"Lisa...recall our earlier discussion" my uncle stated firmly.

The two of them seemed to exchange meaningful eye signals. She
broke eye contact with him and looked at the floor, then
carefully bent one knee and inclined her head and upper body
toward me. 

"Welcome...Sir," she said slowly.  I could discern a slight
accent.

I started to reply, but my Uncle held up his hand to indicate,
"wait". "Lisa has been taught the proper way to greet guests. But
I am afraid we rarely have company and she has forgot her
lessons. I shall remind her," he said as he reached toward the
nearby control device.



"No. No," she spoke up. 

She looked at him in exasperation then slowly lowered herself to
her knees before me. She did this in a stiff controlled manner so
as to not expose any more of her deep cleavage.  As she knelt I
was awarded a lovely look at a full upper thigh and then a
glimpse of a tiny pair of lace panties as her short skirt rose. 
I looked down at her and she would not immediately meet my eyes;
then those large green eyes came up to mine and she fully
acknowledged me.

"Welcome, Master ` she said in a low throaty voice.  "How may I
serve you?'

 I was now obliviously at a loss for words and my uncle
instructed her to refill the brandy decanter. She placed her
hands to the floor, shifted her legs and arose. It was readily
apparent she was modestly attempting to minimize the display of
her lush figure. The thin clingy short uniform was defeatingher.

I watched her walk across the room to the bar. She had a lovely
backside. The stiletto heels caused her hips to roll in an
unavoidably provocative fashion. Conscious of my attention she
tugged down and held the short skirt.  

"The collar discharges the shock. She can't remove the device.
Hopefully you will not need to use it much. But it does get her
immediate attention," he chuckled.  

She came back to stand before us with the decanter on a tray. She
stared at the floor by my feet

"Brandy.... Master?" she murmured. 

"Lisa you WILL do this as you have been trained" my uncle spoke
sharply. 

The lovely girl closed her eyes and paused as if to collect her
temper. She exhaled and bent forward from her waist presenting
the tray to me. Her position caused her breasts to strain up and
nearly spill from the top of the uniform. I had an unimpeded view
of the full orbs, which were presented almost as an offering on
the tray.  She wore a light clean perfume and was close enough I
could feel a heat emanate from her. I reached forward and placed
my hand on the decanter. Despite the surreal ness of the
situation I could not resist the impulse to run the back of my
hand against the inner side of a proffered breast. 

She shivered at the contact and her eyes came up and met mine.
Our eyes locked and I slowly stroked her warm silkiness. She
blinked and shifted her eyes. I smiled and filled the glass. As I
returned the decanter I ran a finger across a lace covered
surprisingly taut nipple. 

She did not look up, but flinched at the intimate contact.

I tasted the brandy. "Exquisite," I proclaimed.



Her eyes came back up to mine. Then she turned and went to my
uncle. She performed the same serving maneuver for him. But she
did it in a modest manner, presenting only her side to me. Her
position still caused her skirt to rise above her buttocks
revealing the full length of her legs and a pair of small dainty
lace panties.  

"Exquisite," I repeated.

 To be continued PAX 

EXPLICIT MATERIAL NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. 
(c) 2001 thomhobs@hotmail.com -- Commercial use prohibited
without authors consent



-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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