The Maid's Diary Novels & Stories

Stanley had promised that he would pay her every month during the time she worked as his maid. She was going to buy a phone for herself and make sure all the romantic videos of her and Stanley were stored in it. Although it was a make-believe, she would pretend it was real and watch them every night before going to bed. The memory of how Stanley had held her so closely and kissed her cheeks at the party made her keep smiling from ear to ear as she arranged her luggage.

“This is… unbelievable!” The only reason I know much at all about the maid is because Poppy has a very good ear for gossip and comes back often to tell me everything. King Maddox didn’t tell me nearly as much about the situation with Zabrina’s hired girl as Poppy found out from the rest of the staff. Not that I necessarily trust everything Poppy tells me. I am fairly certain that the maid who works in the office in the dungeon doesn’t really have three eyes, a hump on her back the size of a camel, and a total of fourteen toes.

She squealed, throwing her arms around his neck, her legs secured on his hips. An hour and two orgasms later, the maid eyed the Prince sleeping beside her. He was truly spent, softly snoring with his mouth opened. Something tugged on her chest as she pulled away from him. "I'm sorry", She whispered to no one in the room before sneaking towards his drawer. The diary was resting on the table, which she tucked under her arm. Standing on the balls of her feet, she tiptoed her way to the maid chambers. Celina hid the diary under her bedsheets, getting in the bed and screwing her eyes shut.

I knew I had to document everything that was happening, in case of the future. As I continued recording, I watched in horror as the maid went through my things, checking under my bed, my wardrobe, and everything she could lay hands on. I felt a surge of anger and fear. In as much as I was happy that our plans were finally playing out. I still felt a sense of anger, disappointment, and disbelief. I positioned myself so that the maid was visible on the screen. She had seen the fake transaction record and had picked it up. She bent beside my bed and began to scan through the pages of the page with all her interest fixed on it.

Her voice is low and quiet. She’s Amanda, 49 years old and our one and only maid, she’s been working with us for 5 years already. “Shhh... just go to Elizabeth’s room. Make sure that she doesn’t come out.” I whisper and waited for her to leave completely. My hands are shaking. I touch the doorknob. I could hear a strange noise as I listen carefully. I swallow nervously. I was surprised when I opened it and saw them both naked. A blonde young woman was on top of him...

The morning aftermath feels rushed, like someone skipped breakfast and went straight for the mundane problem-solving. Somewhere down the hall, the maid coughed. I recognised the cough. Marta, my grey-haired maid. She had the kind of cough that said she’d buried more people than she’d sheets tucked in. But the sound of her cough was deceptive, as I’ve learned the previous evening. Marta was talking low to another maid—it was one of the younger ones I guessed, with eyes of a deer caught in a headlight. “The books were still open when they found him,” the young maid whispered.

My eyes narrowed, but I did not expose my presence; I just waited and continued to watch. It might be something nutritious; I shouldn't jump to conclusions yet. But, when the maid glanced around secretly as if to make sure that she was alone, I realized that what she added to the food was definitely not nutritious. Just as she was adding the contents, a familiar figure entered the kitchen. It was Diana. Diana caught the maid as she poured the contents into plates, and I was about to walk over when Diana suddenly said something to the maid, and the maid added more of the content in the parchment, until there was nothing.

“What is this about?” “This maid,” I explained, “claims to know things about Sarah. But she’ll only speak with a promise of her life. You’ll bear witness to my word.” Justin’s eyes flicked to the trembling girl. “Speak then. And pray what you say is worth sparing your neck.” The maid’s breath came quick and shallow. She glanced between us, as if measuring whether we’d actually keep our word. “I…I am Lady Sarah’s spy,” she whispered finally. My jaw clenched.

"So you are a widow?! How many children do you have? You are 39 years old. Your appearance is also clean. I like it," said the Old Madame who sat on the sofa. She held my application letter that contained complete files about me. The only last diploma degree that I did not attach to it. It is too high applies to be a maid, it might be rejected after. She is around 75 years old, looks very rich and classy. Silk dresses, sparkling jewelry and bun hair showed her class.

He pushed open the door and jump on me on the bed gigling. "Morning, Maa," he said cheerfully. "Good morning, sweetheart," I replied, hugging him close. "Did you sleep well?" He nodded, his eyes shining with happiness. “Did you miss me in your new room?” “No,” August answered shaking his head. Well that’s not very nice. "Yes, Aunt Cook made us pancakes." I smiled. Even I did not know the name of the cook or any of the workers in this place. I made a mental note to learn their names as soon as I could. "That sounds nice. Did you save any for me?"