Sapphic Voices General Fiction

Yes Ms. Vandercook

I've always been very shy, so even though I have been at my job as accounting clerk for four months, I haven't really become friendly with anyone.

My previous position had been one of high pressure, very exciting and considerably good pay for someone without a college education. I would still be doing it if the economy hadn't caused my employer to close down.

I really enjoy my new position, and the people seem very nice, but my income doesn't cover my bills and my savings are running out. I have to make some money soon.

House cleaning-everything from windows to floors. Annie Wilder #555-5555. It isn't catchy but then catchy isn't my style. I have always enjoyed cleaning house and this way I could work my own hours so I posted it on the bulletin board at work.

Several people asked for prices but acknowledged that right now they could not afford it. One man made lewd comments about everything from windows to floors. I was so embarrassed that I nearly took the card down.

Three weeks after posting the card, one of the assistant vice-presidents hired me to clean his home before and after a dinner party he was giving. Impressed by my work he said he would definitely hire me again.

By Wednesday of the following week I had three other jobs. I felt as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. With all this work maybe I could get my bills paid up.

Not long after I am called to Melissa Vandercook's office. She is the youngest and only female vice-president of the company. It seems that all the employees, including me, are terrified of her. She acts cold as ice (some call her Ice Maiden behind her back) and rumor has it that several people are no longer with the company because they didn't perform to her satisfaction.

What had I done? Why did she want to see me?

"I understand you clean houses?" she asked, then continued without waiting for my reply. "I haven't heard any complaints so I am hiring you for every Saturday morning, beginning tomorrow at 9am."

"I will leave a list of things I want done; you will provide the supplies. I won't be there so leave the bill on the coffee table and if I am satisfied with your work I will pay you on Monday. Here is my house key. You are dismissed."

Stumbling out of her office I went through a series of emotions. Relief that I hadn't been called in to be reprimanded or fired, pleased with her backhanded compliment and anger at being ordered to clean her house. Strangely, I also felt respect and admiration for her.

No, I told myself. You are not turned on by her or her commanding ways. How ridiculous! What you need is a good old-fashioned romance with the man of your dreams.

Easier said than done, especially when you are as shy as I am. I have a few male friends but I have never felt comfortable with sex. Not from the first time with Jimmy in the back seat of his dad's car at 17 nor the last time two years ago with that good looking Joe in the apartment next door.

Two years? Has it really been that long? No wonder I am horny.

The following morning at 9am I let myself into Ms. Vandercook's beautiful home. The rooms are sparsely decorated but very comfortable. There are numerous windows that let the sunshine in to reflect off the wood floors and paneling.

The list she left was quite lengthy. I felt as if it were some kind of test, although I didn't know why Ms. Vandercook would test me.

Again I went through several emotions while I worked. Anger at the way she was treating me, pride "I'll show her", and worry about how this would affect my accounting clerk position.

The house sparkled when I finished. I had done everything on the list and I had done it well. She had to be pleased.

Now it is time to write out the bill. I don't know why this makes me so nervous. I guess I don't want her to think I am charging too much and cause me trouble at work but then again I had worked hard and deserved the money. I wrote the bill for what I had quoted the others and left.

Between Saturday and Monday I second guessed myself many times about my work and the bill. I was a nervous wreck when I got to work on Monday morning.

On my desk was an envelope with my name written in Ms. Vandercook's hand. I was too nervous to open it there so I took it to the ladies room. Inside was a check for the exact amount of the bill. What a relief! After a pause I opened the note. I wanted to jump up and down, I had pleased the Ice Maiden. If I wasn't so shy I would have spent the rest of the day smiling from ear to ear. The note read Very nice. Next Saturday, same time.

This went on for another three Saturdays. We never spoke directly during those weeks. Each week I had gone to Ms. Vandercook's home but she was never there. This Saturday was destined to be different. Melissa was home when I let myself in. She was sitting at the table in her sun streamed kitchen, wearing a flattering rose colored dressing gown. It was hanging open to above her knees showing her long beautifully shaped legs and bare feet.

Writing the list of chores to be done she offered me a seat. I nearly tripped over my feet as I moved to sit at the far end of the table. I could feel my face redden and I stuttered my answers as she made small talk about the weather.

She really didn't look at me until she handed me the list. It wasn't until I saw the somewhat amused look on her face that I realized what I was, or wasn't, wearing. When cleaning house I dress for comfort and wasn't wearing a bra under my old worn T-shirt. I also had on a very worn pair of short cutoffs.

If possible I reddened even more. Why didn't the floor just open up and swallow me?

"How cute," she said with a throaty chuckle.

I took the list and practically ran out of the room, tripping over the large throw rug. I could hear her chuckling even after I left the room.

Tears burned my eyes as I started to clean the bathroom. "This is the last time" I told myself, knowing full well I needed the money. Soon the work had my full attention and I put the episode behind me. Money has great influence over me at this time.

Backing out on my hands and knees, scrubbing the bathroom floor, I heard a noise behind me. Ms. Vandercook was starring at my ass, barely covered by my cutoffs. I started to get up. "No" she said, "finish the floor." She watched a while longer then left.

This left me feeling horny again. Boy, did I need a man!

She spent the rest of the time reading a book and did not appear to even notice I was there. As I finished, she suggested that I stay and have a cup of coffee with her. It was said nicely enough but with a hint of an order to it and I found I wasn't able to say no.

There I was, hot and sweaty, sitting in the Ice Maiden's sunny kitchen, drinking coffee and attempting to answer her questions.

She asked questions about every part of my life and really seemed interested. As shy as I am, I found it hard to look her in the eyes and answered her questions with as few words as possible.

We had been talking about an hour and I had to pee so badly. I asked permission to use her bathroom. She chuckled, a husky chuckle, and took my hand. "You are so sweet."

I started to shake all over as she continued to hold my hand, stroking it with her thumb. My first thought was to pull away but she had a good grip and I was too embarrassed.

"Are you afraid of me?" she asked.

I started to shake my head no but found I couldn't lie about it so I whispered "Yes, Ms Vandercook."

"You shouldn't be afraid of me. I wouldn't hurt you." she said as she released my hand.

I couldn't get out of her house fast enough. I don't know how I was able to drive home.

That night I was convinced that I could never face her again and would call in on Monday morning to quit both jobs. Deep down I knew I couldn't do it, but I didn't know why. I convinced myself it was due to my need for a job and the pile of bills I couldn't ignore.

One would think that Ms. Vandercook didn't even know me by the way she never said a word to me at work. It was hard to believe that she was the same person that held my hand last Saturday. I wasn't sure how to feel about this treatment.

Too soon it was Saturday. I felt she would be there again so I wore baggy shorts and a bra under my T-shirt.

It was very difficult for me to find the courage to enter the house and go to her at the kitchen table. This time when she looked up to hand me the list she appeared disappointed at my conservative dress.

"Did you wear a bra because of me?" she demanded.

"Yes."

"I don't like it. Take it off" she ordered. "Now."

Stunned, I just stood there and stared at the floor.

"Maybe you didn't understand me. I said, take your bra off now." She sighed as if dealing with an unruly child. "You do want to please me, don't you?"

All of a sudden I knew I did. I was so stunned and embarrassed by her order and my desire to comply that I couldn't move a muscle.

Very quietly but firmly, she said "Put the list on the table, remove your T-shirt and your bra, then put your shirt back on and get to work."

In a daze I did as told, my hands shaking so badly Ms. Vandercook had to help me with the bra clasp. She took the bra as I put my T-shirt back on and slipped it into the pocket of her dressing gown.

"Now you may go and do your chores."

It has never taken me so long to clean before. I couldn't concentrate and I kept spilling my cleaning supplies. I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible but when Ms. Vandercook caught me sneaking out she suggested that I stay for coffee again.

At first she spoke about her house. Then without warning she said in a husky voice "You have lovely breasts. Do you know that?"

"No"

"Well, you do. And you won't wear a bra while working here, will you?"

"No." It seemed all I could say.

"You do like working for me" she stated. "You like me telling you what to do."

I nodded my head yes, ever so slightly.

"Would you like to have a very special relationship? Something very different from what we have now?" Her voice was husky with emotion.

I continued to look at the floor as my body started shaking.

Ms. Vandercook took my hand and pulling me to my feet suggested that we sit on the couch. I was unable to reply but didn't resist as she led me to the living area.

She sat very close to me and put her arm around my shoulder to comfort me.

"I understand that this is quite a shock for you and it is hard for you to answer. There is no need for you to make a decision right now. I want you to know how I feel; I want you to belong to me. I want to touch your beautiful breasts, kiss your lips and caress your skin whenever I desire. Do you understand?"

Yes, I nodded.

Ms. Vandercook lifted my chin with her fingers and gently kissed me. I found myself kissing back. This must have encouraged her because I felt her hand on my breast. She moaned loudly and told me to leave before she wasn't able to stop herself.

As I ran out the door she called "If you decide to commit be here Friday night at 6pm."

I tried hard not to think about her offer on my way home but once there I didn't try to deny my desire. I kept reliving the feeling of her lips on mine, her hand on my breast and the way I felt when she ordered me to take off my bra.

All week I couldn't look at anyone in the office. I was sure that everyone would know what was going on. Thank goodness Ms. Vandercook was away from the office that week because I don't know how I would have handled seeing her.

Late Friday afternoon she phoned "I haven't forgotten. Have you?"

"No." She hadn't asked if I would be there. She knew I would.

Andrea Guenther's e-mail address is unavailable.

Click here for a list of all of Andrea Guenther's  Stories and Poetry at  Sapphic Voices Authoresses.