Read Maid Service for Free Online Page B

together across his midriff, a meek attitude he assumed typical for a nun. Nobody was there to criticize, the lower part of the convent silent and dark but for the faint glow of nightlights at well spaced intervals. The corridor met another, with doors leading off to either side, one open to reveal the shapes of bulky kitchen equipment, another half-closed, only to swing wide too suddenly for Peter to react.
    He stood face to face with a girl, the two of them frozen in shock. Her eyes were wide in a face framed by dark, tousled hair, her pretty mouth slightly open and sticky with jam from the little jar she held in one hand. She looked terrified and was evidently waiting for the supposed nun who had caught her at her crime to speak. Peter hesitated, not sure if he should tell her off, order her to visit the Mother Superior in the morning, even punish her then and there. The first choice seemed inadequate, the second unfair, the third irresistible. He raised his chin and spoke in his renowned imitation of Mrs. Malaprop.
    â€œPut down that jam, girl, and lift your nightie.”
    For one awful moment he thought she was going to scream, before her expression of terror gave way to one of sulky compliance. Half turning, she placed the jam on the floor and lifted her nightie at the back, exposing a small, sweetly rounded bottom, already bare, which she then pushed out petulantly, and inadvertently pertly. She braced herself against the wall and Peter swallowed hard, the blood already pumping to his cock for the sight she was presenting. But he managed to keep his voice level as he spoke again, timing his words to five firm smacks across her pert little cheeks.
    â€œYou … are … a … little … thief … What are you are?”
    â€œA little thief,” she answered miserably.
    â€œExactly,” he finished, applying a final smack to now flushed bottom. “But so long as you replace the jam no more need be said. What is your name?”
    â€œKatie Vale,” she answered, now sounding slightly puzzled as she hastily covered her bottom.
    â€œThen run along to bed, Katie Vale,” he said, only to realize that she offered the perfect opportunity to find out how to get to Tiffany’s room. “I am new here, as you no doubt realize. Tell me the way to Tiffany Lange’s room.”
    â€œBlue Staircase, top floor,” Katie answered quickly, pointed back down the corridor and fled.
    She’d left the jam on the floor and Peter quickly appropriated it, his fingers shaking with reaction as he tugged up his habit and pushed the jar into his pocket before making a badly needed adjustment to his cock. His heart was hammering with excitement and arousal, bringing on a sense of invulnerability as he turned back the way he had come. He’d spanked a girl and gotten away with it, and while she’d seemed suspicious he was sure she wouldn’t be going to the authorities, an act that would inevitably lead to more of what she’d received in the corridor and probably a great deal harder.
    The first staircase he reached was marked by a waist-high stripe, just visible as green against the dull magnolia of the wall. He moved on, to another, narrower stair, this time marked blue, right at the end of the building and presumably below Tiffany’s corridor. Climbing swiftly and silently, he passed one floor after another without incident, until at last the staircase opened out onto a landing, beyond which a short corridor showed two doors at either side. Each door bore a neatly written nametag, the first of which was Lange, T . He pushed inside without hesitation, into near darkness, form which Tiffany’s voice sounded clear and sweet but fraught with alarm.
    â€œAlice? Lottie?”
    â€œNo, Peter.”
    â€œPeter! You scared me! What’re you doing here anyway? How did you get in?”
    â€œSh!” he urged. “I had to come. I couldn’t keep away. Let me into