Housekeeper In A Dungeon Novels & Stories

“Have this carpet changed.” They both comply in a swift second. He doesn’t spare me a glance as he makes his way out of my room like he’d not just murdered a man WITH HIS BARE FUCKING FISTS! RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. Like, ‘this is a regular thing we do around here.’ I know mafia men are dark but this… -_-_-_- DAMIAN It’s dim down here in the dungeon. The light overhead shines over a wet mop of black hair, owned by the mole who’s been in my fucking house under the guise of protecting my household.

But I do know that the only people who have ever gone down there have either not emerged at all anymore, or came back a shell of their former selves. It’s only for a week though. How bad could it be? ** 1 week later ** ‘WE ARE BURNING THIS ENTIRE FILTHY PACK TO THE GROUND!!!’. Ares roars in my mind for the thousandth time since we have been here. I can easily understand now how some people have gone mad down here. The dungeon itself is beyond filthy. It’s downright disgusting. Mold, piss and feces are scattered everywhere. I don’t even have a bucket to relieve myself in, they make you do that on the floor like a wild animal. I look like absolute shit right now.

“There are servants’ quarters on the first floor? I thought it was just common areas and kitchens down there.” “Oh, uh, no… her room isn’t on the first floor.” His face flushes. “Then where the Hell is it?” I put my hands on my hips. The doctor backs up a step when he feels my temper begin to flare. *** “This can’t be right.” I look around as we walk down the dark, damp hallway. “This… this is a dungeon.”

“Don’t you often find that position filled by a woman? It explains why you wouldn’t have time to focus on housecleaning.” “That and Hilda claimed years ago I could burn water and so I got banned from working in the main house’s kitchens.” “Who’s Hilda?” “She’s the chief cook and housekeeper at the p… main house. If you need anything for everyday living, you talk to her. She gets it all cleared away for accounting and such.” “Wait, you pool money together? Don’t you have your own money?”

Well, I’m here to prove them wrong. I’ve been surveilling them for two weeks, waiting for them to choose their victim and educating myself on their daily routine. I also hacked into their home’s security system and searched the premises until I found their private chamber of horrors. The chamber is what I imagine a fifteenth-century dungeon must have looked like. The smell of bleach permeates the air, but it doesn’t completely mask the smell of human waste and blood. I swallow hard as I inspect the room’s contents. Manacles are lining the grimy stone walls, a pool in the middle of the room filled with an unknown substance. From the color and smell, I know that it’s not water. A variety of kn

"Yes, Madam Helen." "Thank you so much." She appreciated before urging them to open up and let her in. Quillon brought out the keys from his pocket before opening the gate of the dungeon. The gates made clanking noises as he pushed it open. Madam Helen muttered another thank you before stepping into the dungeon with the tray of food in her hands. "Child." She called out and dropped the tray on the floor. She crouched before Eleanor who laid on the floor facing the wall. "Mmmm." Eleanor mumbled stirring lightly.

I grab his hand, pull him up, and march to the basement door. “If you’re going to kill me, let me call my mom first.” I chuckle, flip on the light, and lead him downstairs. “If I were killing you, I wouldn’t do it here,” I say as we navigate the maze of rooms and hallways. “What is this place?” “My dungeon.” His eyes widen. “Like a sex dungeon? I’ve heard you people do stuff like that.” “You people?” I furrow my brow as we reach the door. “Rich people.” I roll my eyes—of course.

I thought it was stylish. I had forgotten my fine patchwork, from my hoodie down to my sneakers, which had been dying to be thrown out, and the whole outfit, now that I thought of it, just screamed ‘poverty.’ The kitchen was a huge space, and other maids and cooks were busy: scrubbing plates, chopping vegetables, mincing meats, and cooking. “Beta Daphne,” a young girl called, and the woman answered. “Luna Tauriel wants to see you. She's upstairs in her room.”

"But I get your point..." Tobias rises to his full height. Towering over me with nothing but fondness in his eyes as he looks at me. "Let me hire this housekeeper while you sit back and relax, okay?" I take a deep breath. "Okay." *** A few days later, I'm trying my hardest not to interfere when I notice that my housekeeper is sorting the shoes in the wrong order. Her name is Dora. She is a young, pretty little thing, and it's taking me every ounce of self-control not to take over. Which makes me realize that I probably have a bigger control need than I thought.

Facing the queen-sized bed I’m currently on is a large flat-screen TV, with a white couch in the corner. How the hell did I get here? Suddenly I feel cold, as if I’m not wearing anything. I bring my daze down my body, shocked by my bare breast as I quickly lift the duvet to cover myself. “Shit.” I curse, pushing my wayward strands out of my face as I tuck them behind my ear. “I’m sorry, who are you again?” “I’m Helen, Mr. Gray’s housekeeper.” “Right. Of course.” I sigh, licking my bottom lip as I run my fingers through my hair.