SubscribeStar Story: The Tutor, Part 37
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Part 37
“I don’t- umm, I don’t know,” I mumbled.
Although this was Trixie, and not Annabelle, I still felt my resolve plummeting as I was caught off guard and off balance when faced with this whole situation. It wasn’t what I had mentally braced myself for while driving over, which meant I was not prepared in the slightest to handle it. Tutoring was my wheelhouse, as was all things mathematics. This? Not so much. Trixie might have been a maid, but this was still a world that was completely unfamiliar to me compared to how I grew up.
The intimidatingly direct blonde before me let my response linger in silence for a few seconds, maybe waiting to see if I’d work my way past that indecision, before ultimately speaking up herself. “Ms. Moore, you already went through the trouble of putting the uniform on. You might as well help me with chores until Annabelle arrives.”
Of all the things she had said so far, that was really the first thing to make sense to my more logical brain. The first half, at least. However, I still was very much not in favor of looking the way I did whenever Annabelle finally returned. She was already late, of course, when I had made the effort to be perfectly punctual. And I didn’t even know how late. Trixie had a small wristwatch; otherwise, there was no way to tell time in the laundry room.
I knew it was a bad idea. Not even deep down, or on a subconscious level. I was actively thinking about how I should just change back into the clothes I showed up in and plop myself down in Annabelle’s suite until she got home. That was not only the most dignified approach, but also the most productive in terms of getting my own shit done in the meantime. Skipping a day of university had been productive in its own way, of course, but I had yet to check out what I had missed online. My readings and syllabus assignments were done for a couple days, but anything in-class that I wasn’t there for would need to be tended to. And even if I put all that aside, something as simple as re-organizing my desktop would be a better use of my time than doing another family’s laundry.
All that, and I still found myself conceding. “Just laundry?” I asked. The social pressure was just too much to handle. It’s not like Trixie and I were friends or anything, but she was standing between me and the door and now we were dressed the same. Also, she was right. While it was a bit demeaning to suggest that I was one of ‘Annabelle’s girls,’ along with the notion that I should be obedient, it wouldn’t hurt to have her vouch for me. The collar was still a huge issue in terms of my everyday life, and I could only imagine the conversational circles I’d have to run around with her before managing to get the key. It would have been one thing if she simply sprung the accessory on me in the middle of a tutoring session somehow, but the circumstances in which I was collared still made me blush whenever the memory struck. Annabelle was going to be smug and shameless and flirty, and I was going to be a total mess within minutes. I knew it, and I was still here. So yes, I needed every possible edge that I could get. Including Trixie’s help. But first, she wanted mine.
Not technically answering my question, Trixie asked, “Do you want to fold, or hang?”
Only hesitating for a moment, I inwardly sighed and said, “I can hang.” At my own place, I really didn’t have a preference between the two. Here, however, I doubted my own folding technique would be remotely as perfect as someone who did it every day for a household like this. It would be a lot less difficult to screw up putting something on a hanger.
“Okay. Let me get these out of the way.” She collected my clothes that I had neatly stacked up nearby, then made to leave the room. “I’ll be right back.”
“Wait!” I exclaimed, “Those- those are mine . . . ”
“I know they’re yours. You may have them back when you’re done with your chores.”
“But-”
“But nothing, Mere. You are a maid right now, yes? Then you don’t need anything more than what you’re wearing.”
“I’m not actually-”
“Behave, Ms. Moore. Start on the laundry.”
“ . . . Okay.” What was happening? As usual when it came to Annabelle and her house as a whole, everything always seemed to spiral out of control so quickly. Why couldn’t my clothes stay here, where I could keep my eyes on them? Though I had taken the servants’ entrance plenty of times, I wasn’t particularly familiar with all the nooks and crannies. Trixie could put my former outfit anywhere, and I wasn’t fond of needing to rely on her to get it back.
Pausing by the door, she said, “Yes, Trixie.”
“What?”
“That’s how you’re supposed to reply. With Annabelle, it’s, ‘Yes, Ms. Annabelle.’ With me, it’s ‘Yes, Trixie.’”
Was she serious? Trixie and I were basically the same age. I didn’t know how old she was for sure, but that’s what it seemed like to me. And that wasn’t even the point. I had only agreed to help her with laundry! Well, I also put on the uniform. Either way, that’s why I had been reluctant to agree to assist her with chores. In a matter of seconds, this was already turning into more than I had signed up for. “Trixie, I don’t think-”
Never letting me get out more than a few words, Trixie cut me off yet again. “It doesn’t matter what you think, Mere. You said you’d try out this maid role, and my seniority here makes me your supervisor in a way. Until you finish your chores, you need to address me properly. Alright?”
“I-”
“Yes, Ms. Trixie.”
“But-”
“Yes, Ms. Trixie.”
Feeling another blush creeping up, I glanced away and murmured, “Yes, Ms. Trixie.” When push came to shove, I really couldn’t handle the authoritative tone the girl was using on me. Even if it made no sense.
Not content with that, apparently, she said, “Speak clearly, Mere. Are you going to behave?”
Swallowing my pride, and trying as hard as I could to not sound as small as I felt at the moment, I cleared my throat and said, “Yes, Ms. Trixie.”
“Good. Then get started on hanging the clothes in the dryer.”
“Yes, Ms. Trixie . . . ”
Without another word, she was gone. She closed the door behind her, although it’s not like I planned on chasing after her. Instead, I let out a heavy sigh that was more like a breath I had been holding for the last few seconds. Maid. For the moment, that’s basically what I was, and it was a lot different now that Trixie made it clear that I wasn’t just matching her appearance while assisting her. Instead, she had taken charge in a way that was a lot more direct than the last few times when she had been rather direct with me in terms of insisting I stay to help with this and that. And she had my clothes. It wasn’t actually blackmail or extortion or whatever. She hadn’t threatened anything, as she was only getting them ‘out of the way’ when collecting the outfit. Yet I felt a not so subtle implication with the turn of events anyway. Between the collar, the uniform, and the way she was speaking to me, this wasn’t good.
I already was at such a disadvantage when it came to Annabelle, despite how I was the older girl. Trying to convince her that I should be her tutor and nothing more was already a daunting task when I was collared and when she had proven multiple times that it didn’t take much for me to give in to her advances. But dressed like a maid and pressured to answer her every question with ‘Yes, Annabelle’ like how I had just been strong-armed into by Trixie? Not a good way to start things off.
For the moment, however, there wasn’t much I could do about the thoughts and projections that raced through my mind and put me in a rather nervous state. So much for trying to keep a clear head, when Trixie managed to tap into my submissive tendencies just as easily as Annabelle did yesterday. Short of chasing after the blonde, I was stuck where I was. The whole point of halfheartedly agreeing to go along with this was so she would vouch for me, and I doubted that was going to happen if she caught me standing around after I just affirmed what I was going to be doing with a ‘Yes, Trixie.’
So, after another big sigh, I opened one of the dryers and began sifting through the clothes. Hanging up piece after piece of clothing, I also found an empty basket nearby that served as a spot to drop all the clothes that needed folding. Little by little, I chipped away at the task. To her credit, Trixie didn’t dawdle. She was back within a minute or two, and wordlessly began working alongside me. The two of us finished up with the dryer fairly quickly, then moved onto the next one. Of course they had multiple laundry machines, when they had the income to hire a maid. Although it was impossible to deny the efficiency, even if it seemed a bit excessive. My own family perpetually had the machines running, as each person in a household pretty much added a fairly regular need to wash and dry clothes. Here, Trixie could run all the bedding at the same time, as well as use a different machine for each Alodia member. It was pretty easy to tell which machine housed Annabelle’s things, as well as her father’s clothes vs. her mother’s.
Even with three machines, the job went by pretty quickly with two of us splitting up the labor. By the time we were done, nearly every rack and surface in the room was full of clothes. Although I had already been to the various bedrooms recently to make the beds, Trixie told me that I would start with Annabelle’s since that was the space I was most familiar with. Not wanting to rock the boat, I merely replied with, ‘Yes, Trixie,’ then started the tedious process of hauling the clothes. I’m sure there was some justification to separating out an area of the house for maids and others to work, but I definitely didn’t see it when it came to laundry. The sheets and comforters were one thing, but it took forever to carry Annebelle’s clothes all the way through the house to her suite. The folded clothes were fine, as those could go in a hamper, but there were a ton of outfit pieces on hangers. To keep those from getting wrinkled, according to Trixie, I was only able to carry an armful at a time.
And, with every trip, I prayed that I wouldn’t run into Annabelle.
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