More Hands Maids Novels & Stories

I had little time to react as we got to the dining room, and I noticed how all the maids’ eyes went to our hands that were intertwined before they continued with their various duties. Oh well.

The maids watched from the edges, quiet spectators. Their eyes softened, not out of pity but awe. How often did the lady of the house take matters into her own hands like this? How often did she show such care in the simplest of acts? One maid whispered softly to another, barely audible, “She’s… really precise. Look at her hands. Every movement… it’s perfect.” Cassy stirred the rice, pouring in ladles of simmering stock gradually, her focus unwavering. Each movement was measured, precise, yet fluid, as if she had been born to do this.

The slap cracked across my face like a whip before I could finish speaking. Pain exploded across my cheek. My head snapped to the side, and I tasted blood where I'd bitten my tongue. I froze. Every muscle in my body locked down, screaming at me to retaliate, to show this woman exactly what happened when you put your hands on a princess of the Bloodmoon Kingdom. But I wasn't a princess anymore. I was a maid. And maids didn't fight back. "Watch where you're going," she snapped, "You just arrived and you're already being clumsy. Perhaps you'd like to lose your job on your first day?"

Muse Club, a top-tier playground for the wealthy, had been rented out for the night. Sensual lights flickered, and DJ music blared deafeningly. Lucia wore a bachelorette queen's sash and stood in the center of the dance floor, dancing passionately and soaking up the cheers and adoration. "Let's toast to the future Madre!" "The Principessa is so lucky. That Underboss is the most untouchable man in this city, and you still landed him!"

Mac sniffs her hair and hugs her tightly while closing his eyes: Ah, your scent is magic that melts the heart and your embrace, Ah, your embrace is warm on a snowy night, Ah, how wonderful you are, my sexy maid. The red-haired woman , trying to remove his hands from around her waist: You idiot, get away from me, I am not a servant. Mac in a whisper: Don't worry, I won't reveal my secret to anyone, my love. I know that maids are not allowed to be in places like these for bitches. Don't worry, darling, you're safe with Mac (winking at her).

Tonight was the night of my first date with Mark, and I was being pampered and prepared by the skilled hands of the maids. The process began with a luxurious bath drawn by Martha, one of the most experienced maids in the household. She had a knack for creating the perfect temperature and adding just the right amount of scented oils to the water, turning the simple act of bathing into a decadent experience. As I soaked in the fragrant bubbles, Martha expertly washed and massaged my hair, leaving it silky smooth and shining.

Hearing all the rumors and excitement for the grand wedding around the palace felt surreal as if another girl was getting ready to marry the Duke, not Edwina. “Yes, ma’am. Duke Claiborne has assigned me to be your new handmaid. Myself and several others.” Mrs. Mercy bowed her head once again. Edwina’s vision began to swim. A handmaid? And several others? She didn’t need an entourage. What would she even use a handmaid for? Handmaids were for noblewomen who didn’t know how to use their own hands to dress themselves!

"Can you please be my best maid?" ^^^^

The other maids began to approach me slowly, and it was only then I noticed it was five, not four maids. I moved backwards, until I hit the bed and reluctantly sat down on it. The maids hovered over me, some of them stretching out their hands to grab me. They grabbed my hand and pinned me down to the bed, and I tried to struggle. Their strength threw me off guard and I couldn’t move, no matter how I tried to. With the loud music booming through the room, I watched, helpless as one maid picked up the bowl of porridge and began to shove it into my mouth. She poured it bit on my neck, dress, and I hot food burned my skin.

Who chopped these salads? Shouted Magdalena the oldest maid of the Johnson family. Its not me.. It's not me either. The two maids denied right away.Magadalena's face twisted with anger. It must be that Rim then. I wonder what l have to do for that girl to do things right. What kind of a girl is she? . How can one fail to chop tomatoes well.See how all salaads look like they are being chopped for animals. Oh God give me patience. Give me patience to deal with this girl.