?Enter.?Ms. Fuchs opened the door, walked in and curtseyed to Mr. B. I foundthat I still thought of him as Mr. B, even though I was supposed tocall hi... Master now. I gave him a deep curtsey, rose and stoodperfectly still, demurely lowering my eyes and folding my hands overmy apron.?Your new personal maid, sir,? Ms. Fuchs said. She gestured that Ishould move closer to Mr. B?s desk. The desk was oversized, like Mr.B himself, and quite messy. His enormous computer monitor was dividedbetween. “Does this little game excite you?” I whisper. She nods again.“Panties,” I whisper. “Slip them off. Give them to me.”Her eyes open wider. She begins to formulate a question and then stops. She composes herself again. Her foot withdraws. She looks over her shoulder as her thumbs curl into the waist of her panties through the fabric of her dress. She lifts her hips and ass off the seat of her chair and shimmies her panties down her thighs.When her foot rises again to my crotch, her panties are. More

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