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Alison sighed and smoothed down her skirt as she entered the sitting room, where the lady of the house was entertaining one of her friends. They were laughing at some private joke when she came in.

“Ah, Angelique,” her mistress said, finally acknowledging her presence. “So good of you to finally answer my summons.”

Alison’s mouth twitched at the woman’s name for her. It was a silly, useless affectation, as fake as the gaudy ‘antique’ furniture that they were seated upon.

“I think we’ll have our tea now,” she continued. “And bring the dessert tray around, there’s a good girl. I think we’ll have the raspberry cake, with some creme de leche on top. And do try to be quick about it.”

“Yes, madam,” Alison said.

“I beg your pardon,” the woman replied flatly, glaring at her.

“I mean, uh, oui, madame,” Alison curtsied.

“Very good. Now run along,” her mistress dismissed her with a wave of a hand then turned back to her guest, ignoring Alison as she walked out. “I swear, I can’t get that girl to do anything right. Why, just this morning…”

Alison groaned quetly as she left the room and padded down the hall. That woman was infuriating! Nora, Alison’s employer, was barely into her thirties and already running the household like a tyrannical queen.

Alison was studying here and needed a job, so she’d taken the position here. Officially, her duties were to tutor the children of the house in English. Nora felt that wasn’t worth the salary they were paying so she’d forced Alison to take on more and more menial tasks, dress up in this silly, frilly maid’s costume and affect a french accent.

Alison would have quit, but the job market in this country was in the toilet, especially for foreigners. And well, if Nora ever found out that Alison had a dick, who knows how she’d react?

She paused in the hallway to scratch beneath her skirt. Her balls were so itchy in these stupid frilly bloomers! Nora had sneered at her when she’d arrived this morning after a run. She’d held her nose and commented that Alison might feel better in the stable with all the other horses.

That was just the latest in a long line of indignities that Alison had to suffer. At least the kids weren’t so bad, but they were at school. Nora’s husband was practically a non-entity around the house. And no wonder; if Alison was married to a trophy wife like that, she’d want the harpy in a cage, too.

Alison smoothed down the front of her skirt and made her way to the kitchen. She worked quickly and efficiently, setting the water to boil while she fetched sugar and cream. She retrieved the silver tea service (it was only silver-plated, actually) and placed the items on a cart just as the water boiled. She tossed a few generic tea bags in the pot (Nora didn’t know the difference anyway) and went to slice the cake.

“Hmmm, creme de leche…?” She furrowed her brow. “Wait a minute, there’s no such thing!” Alison leaned against the cupboard and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Nora would be furious, of course. She was NEVER wrong. Alison dug through the kitchen and arranged a tray full of cupcakes, confections and squares.

“I hope this will be enough,” she sighed, knowing it wasn’t. She started to roll the cart down the hall but grimaced as her balls itched even harder.

“Ooooh, goddamn it,” she groaned. Alison rolled the cart into a quiet alcove and yanked down the offending undergarment.

“Jeez, these are so starched, they could stand up on their own,” she growled. She kicked them away and rubbed her poor testicles, brushing the caked-on powder away. Her cock needed a good shake-off, too, and she tapped at it with her fingers, wiping it clean. Alison groaned quietly as she saw herself getting hard from the stimulating touch.

She leaned against the wall and panted, staring at her throbbing hard-on. This wouldn’t do at all. She’d never get soft now, not without an orgasm. And she couldn’t walk around with her stiffy jutting out like a bowsprit.

Alison reluctantly reached down and took hold of the organ, stroking it with a gloved hand. She sighed in bliss. The satiny texture was heavenly compared to the stiff linen of her panties. She pumped her fist faster and glanced over at the tray. A wicked idea percolated in her mind.

“I’ll bet she won’t even know the difference,” she grinned, lifting her leg over the cart. Her hand tugged vigorously at her cock, jerking it fast. Alison groaned. She realized that Nora had been running her so ragged that she hadn’t cum in almost a week. “Now you’re gonna get what you deserve…”

“Angelique?” she heard Nora’s voice call out. “Hurry up, you slothful girl!”

“Cumming, madame,” Alison grunted as her cock twitched in her hand, spurting out thick ropes of ivory cream. She aimed the pulsing streams onto the cake slices, leaving generous globs that pooled in each dish.

She blinked as she felt something cool and soothing touch her balls. She looked back and saw that her nuts were dipping in the creamer. She smiled.

“In for a penny, in for a pound,” Alison snickered and lowered her testicles into the lovely liquid. She swirled her hips, stirring her sweaty ballsack in the cream like she was dipping a doughnut.

She dismounted and brushed an errant lock of hair out of her eyes as she examined her handiwork. Thinking quickly, she used her discarded bloomers to wipe up the semen and cream that had spilled off the dishes. She patted her balls dry, stuffed the undergarment into a gaudy-looking vase, then tugged the hem of her dress down, hiding her softening dick under the lacy slip.

Alison began pushing the cart down the hall once more, a secretive smile playing at her lips.

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