From the driveway, with Pablo and Roberto driving into the distance,

Maria watched Rachel enter the house and felt close to weeping. It was torture, seeing her, being so close to her, but to be unable to act on her desires. She had begged God for one moment alone with her. One moment to be able to kneel before her and submit to her commands. One moment for Rachel to take her as her Mistress.

What would she have me do? How would my Mistress have me please her?

She climbed the stairs up to her apartment, wondering when that moment would come. She had no idea where her desire to be dominated came from.

From the first moments of her budding sexuality as a teenager, she had been tormented by fantasies where a master or mistress ordered her about. Unable to come to terms with her needs, ashamed by what her family would think, she had not spoken of her desires to anyone. A job as a maid gave her some small sense of satisfaction, but that was weak indeed compared to the flaming fires of her innermost dreams.

And then, that wonderful afternoon Last week, when Rachel had glimpsed what she wanted. Standing in the middle of the dining room, shaking with exquisite terror as her uniform was slowly peeled away, Rachel's voice so Loving, commanding her. Knowing that in Rachel's eyes she was a treasure beyond price; something to be cherished. At that moment, she would have done anything for her. Anything to be allowed to remain in her presence.

She may come back any time, she thought, and trembled at the possibility. A yearning warmth was in her core, needing only a touch to set her alight.

But you must be ready when she comes. She told you to dress attractively. Even though you do not work for her yet, it would be a disgrace if she should come to visit you and you had not obeyed her commands.

In moments, she had pulled off her shirt and unclasped her plain, functional bra. Eying it with distaste, she tossed it into the bottom drawer of her bureau, then slipped her shirt back on, shivering sensuously at the wicked feel of her bare flesh on the cotton cloth.

Immediately her nipples hardened, and she closed her eyes as they dragged across the fabric, tormenting her with pleasure. Hiking her skirt high, she pulled off her panties. Rummaging in a box, she found her small collection of Lingerie. A pair of lace panties, cut high at the hips, the crotch little more than a wisp of material, soon found their way onto her body.

Now I am beautiful. And ready for my mistress.

But the room, perhaps, is not? You must clean, Maria. When she comes for you, you will not be ashamed to greet her.

She opened the windows, allowing the warm breeze to enter the musty, dusty room. Whistling happily, she took up her broom. In moments, the sound of her cheerful voice and the scrape of bristles on the floor echoed through the previously lifeless apartment.

Sarah came downstairs later in the afternoon to find her mother in the

Living room, surrounded by computer printouts, and talking on her cell phone.

“Yes, I understand," she was saying.

“However, if you could have your people keep an eye open for me, I would appreciate it.

“Hey, sweetie," she said to Sarah. "Are you feeling better?”

Sarah nodded glumly. When her mother had asked her to help move Maria in, she had been drained, red-eyed and bleary after a sleepless night spent fantasizing about her father. After she had humiliated herself by her childish attack on Maria, she had gone upstairs to her room. A furious session of masturbation and a short, exhausted nap had restored some of her equilibrium, though she still felt disturbingly unbalanced.

“What are you doing?"