I Raised An Obsessive Servant Novels & Stories

“I know some good men, ex-military, and professional. They’ll do nicely.” “I don’t want them to be nice,” I scoffed, glaring at the manservant who was taking down the gaudy old paintings in the foyer. “I want them to keep unwanted visitors away.” “Right, mistress.” “Also, I want you to do better,” I rounded on him, pushing him backwards. He swayed on the spot, still not looking me in the eye. “You’ve never shown me proper respect. Always grandpa’s faithful servant, always looking down at me. You were very good at following grandpa’s orders to keep me away from David. Well, if you want to stay here, you’ll do best to remember that I’m giving the orders.”

The servant's eyes fluttered open, and she smiled weakly, her gaze sparkling with a mixture of fear and anticipation. I raised an eyebrow, amused by Tristan's suggestion. "I think she's almost done, brother," I said, nodding towards the servant's pale face. Tristan chuckled, his mouth and teeth stained with blood. "Wouldn't that be an amazing way to go out?" he asked the servant, who nodded enthusiastically from her perch on his lap.

The third servant began to despair because he couldn't find a good excuse. Instead, she heard the queen say softly, "Raise your head!" The third servant immediately shivered with fear, "Your Majesty, please forgive me." Monica said even louder, "Raise your head up. Isn't it rude of you to look down like that when talking to me?"

As she sat in the palace's guest room, the Empress smiled warmly. The maid served her tea anxiously but did not make any mistakes. Her nerves are similar to Olivier's, who sat in front of her and started sweating. (This is bad. Azazel is sick, so she must have come here on purpose. I'm getting irritated with this sly woman.) Oliver maintains his calm and friendly expression. "There's no need to be concerned, Your Majesty. I am the one who should apologize. I'm extremely regretful that my Master is currently sick and unable to meet you. We also lack hospitality to serve someone as glorious as Your Majesty."

Not just any servant will do. Servants always feel small. I need someone who thinks she’s better than me. Take her down a peg or two. “Ollie!” I scream. “Get here and clean this!” One of the servants comes nearer to clean, but I shove them away. “Only Ollie can clean this!” Behind me, my brothers watch with severe expressions. With a sigh, Conrad tells the servant, “Do as she says.” Ollie’s POV

" Just get lost all of you and leave me alone. If you all don't leave me alone I swear I will kill you all" Saying that the girl from inside continues to smash things again. Seeing this the servant outside the room becomes scared and all go downstairs to the living room. After a few minutes, they listen the sound of the car. They take a long breath and become happy thinking that their Madam and Master had come. They are the only ones who can control their young miss.

He looked down at the tablet on his laps and swiped across its surface to assess what was going on in his apartment. He zoomed into the kitchen camera and saw his hired chef going about her business. Another swipe and he could see all the cameras in the apartment. He saw as Leila rushed about trying to meet up with the deadline he had set for her. It gave him a feeling of superiority over her as he watched her struggle and clean around the apartment. He was so engrossed in what he was doing that he didn't notice the car stop. "Boss, we're here." Batista, his most trusted bodyguard told him quietly.

Lisa yelled as she ran to hug me then she stopped in her tracks and bowed instead. I looked up at Lisa and I asked “why are you bowing to me?” “You are my superior” Lisa answered with fear in her voice.she was still down waiting for me to realize her. “Rise” I commanded and grabbed her by the arm and pulled her with me. “Father!!”I yelled as I walked towards him, anger in my blood boiling in my Gaines. “Yes son?” “Why Father??” I asked him, referring to Lisa.”Why did you make her a maid??”

He turned my hand, scanning the bruises carefully. He turned my wrist slightly and cursed under his breath. “My servants don’t even have bruises like these,” he muttered, his lips pulling into a frown. I tried to pull away again. “It’s nothing.” He didn’t release me. Instead, he took my other hand too. I froze. He flipped it over. More marks. He looked up at me slowly. “Do you have some kind of OCD?” he asked bluntly. “Is that why you won’t let the servants clean?”

I tied my robe slowly, smiling through the heartbreak as I watched him storm toward the door, calling over his shoulder, “It’s over. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” The door clicked shut behind him. I stood there in his office, pussy aching, heart twisting with obsession and fresh determination. Mom’s sacrifices, Dad’s empty place, the boring stable life I’d lived, it all felt like chains I wanted to break with Sebastian’s rough hands. The forbidden fire was too sweet to let it die. I touched my still-wet pussy, soaking my fingers with my wetness and licking it. Already plotting on what to do next. I’d probably wear something even hotter tomorrow. Sneak into his room. Remind him a