Maid In America

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SS49: “Maid In America”


March 20th, 12:15 p.m.

Madison Roschfeld rang her bell.

“Miss Magnusson!” she called. “Tea time!”

Recently hired Karin Eva Magnusson hastily put the finishing preparations on the tea for her socialite mistress and her guests. She couldn’t afford to keep them waiting. Finally, she placed the saucers on the tray and the cups on the saucers.

“Coming, Madame!” she called back. …Just give me a few förbaskade moments, please, she silently added to herself.

She straightened out her clothing, dried any visible perspiration from her face, and picked up the tray.

Barely thirty seconds later, the bell rang again.

“Today, please, Miss Magnusson!” came Madame Roschfeld’s impatient voice.

“Yes, Madame! Coming!” Keep your jäkla cranky-pants on, Your Prada-wearing Highness…

Balancing haste with care, Karin made her way to the tea room. She took a breath to compose herself and pushed the door open.

“Your tea, Madame, ladies.”

“Well,” commented Madison, as Karin toted the tray and set the cups down. “I see Miss Magnusson has deigned to serve us.”

Karin blinked a few times and literally swallowed her anger over the way her employer treated her. Sometimes she hated this job, but the compensation and accommodations were amazing. So she put up with the verbal abuse by focusing on the pros.

She finished placing the cups and withdrew the tray.

“Please forgive me for having kept you vaiting. Vill there be anything else then, Madame?” she asked.

Madison turned up her thankless expression to meet Karin’s, saying nothing for just a moment.


Karin nodded and curtsied. “Very good then, tack ska ni ha. Enjoy, ladies.”

She wasn’t out the door five seconds before the bell rang again. “Miss Magnusson!”

Sigh. Back in she came.

“Yes, Madame?” she smiled sweetly.

Madison gestured to one of her friends. “Miss Ashlyn has had a tiny spill.”

“Oh, of course, Madame,” said Karin, whipping a small dish towel from the waist hem of her outfit. “I’ll get that taken care of for you right avay.” She cleaned the spill and was again dismissed to continue her duties. She kept on her mask of polite cheeriness in the ladies’ company and dropped it as soon as she stepped back out. She swore, sometimes she honestly believed her boss created these “accidents” intentionally, solely to add to her workload. It was all but impossible to put anything past her.

Karin was 22, from Sweden, and had been working for Madison Roschfeld for three and a half months thus far. When she met and originally began working for her, she hadn’t gotten such a hostile vibe from her at all, but then again, Madison had not been the person interviewing her for the position; it was one of her assistants. She thought herself astonishingly lucky to have even been considered for this job, let alone hired. She’d won it through simple honesty and merit. She’d always been an extreme stickler for cleanliness and settled for none less. And she’d been performing tasks of maintenance and other upkeep for friends, relatives and neighbors since her teens. She was a qualified choice, so there was obviously no ulterior motive or favoritism going on here.

Upon being hired, she wasn’t sure if she caught Madison on a good day or what, but the dame welcomed her with open arms. The open arms were figurative, but warm and receiving. Madison Roschfeld was a wealthy heiress and socialite who traveled through only the upper crust of the status circles. She was famous for keeping stellar company. Her gatherings were lavish and extravagant. Her home was a luxurious villa bordering the countryside and city outskirts. Everything about her radiated power. Employment under the governing eye of Madame Roschfeld was quite a step up for a simple middle-class maiden from Stockholms län, Sverige.

Over her first weeks, her experience, expertise and attention to detail served well. After one month, Madison decided Karin was ready to handle a party. It was an evening that made her quite nervous, but she concentrated, kept cool, did her best, and delivered. Guests were very pleased with her tending to them. Madison informed her she’d be rewarded for her competence with an additional week of paid vacation, but only after her first full year of employment. Well, Karin figured, it was something to look forward to.

After the first month, however, Madison’s cordiality towards her quickly wore off. It seemed Madison had been welcoming and benevolent to her the first four weeks in order to build Karin’s trust and confidence in her before she began treating her like the everyday riffraff commoner she was. No more Miss Nice Madame. Karin was still in employ to cater to Madison’s and her guests’ needs at the parties, but the more time she invested in this fledgling career, the more it appeared she was carelessly pushed about, shoved aside and walked all over. Figuratively, of course, but her feelings Çankaya Escort were soon equally battered.

About a month and a half in, Karin was brought abreast of the inside joke amongst the help that what Madame Roschfeld needed most was actually to get laid. The quip went hand in hand with the companion gossip that Madison happened to be a particularly uptight, chaste, prudish woman, with whom they’d practically never seen a gentleman caller. Between the lot of them, they didn’t even know for sure if she enjoyed the company of men or of women. She didn’t like her employees to do so much as flirt with one another while in her home. But they were certain that if she could just get herself a little action, she’d definitely loosen up and cut everyone a bit of slack here and there. One wouldn’t think it such an arduous task, especially for Madison, but perhaps it was just her inalterable choice. Rather unfortunate for the slaves—er, servants—Madame Roschfeld held in her employ.

Of course, while on the clock, Karin was expected still to behave and carry on her duties with only the utmost politeness and professionalism. It went without saying that any negative attitude shown towards Madison or her friends would not be rewarded. And so Karin was compelled to find other outlets through which to take out her aggression. One of them was sports. On the hobby side of her life, Karin had always been athletic. She enjoyed softball, soccer—o.k.a. football in her beloved native homeland—and especially swimming. Karin loved to swim. She absolutely adored the water. Along with the other help, she lived here in Madison’s enormous villa, and during her time off while being relieved by her fellow maids and helpers, her perks included complimentary use of the villa’s swimming pools, both indoor and outdoor—weather permitting, of course. So although resentment lingered over the way she’d been regarded lately, Karin was able to stroke, kick, and doggy-paddle her frustrations away.

Still, this anger management technique worked better some times than others. But overall, Karin Magnusson remained a happy, optimistic person by nature, who could bear a little bossing around in exchange for an otherwise very lush, cushy, cozy living. While not on duty, she was permitted off the grounds for as long as she liked, and could bring home whatever material possessions desired. She was simply responsible for returning home ready to work at her assigned time. Technically, she could also get away with taking home her own guests, plausibly, but this was liable to be frowned upon without proper consent from Madame Roschfeld.

But if the truth be told, what made Karin Magnusson happiest at this stage of her life was, in her eyes, a tremendous privilege in and of itself. She got to be, to reside and work, in the United States of America. She viewed it as the greatest country in the world and dreamed of living here as a child. When she turned 20, her dream came true. The first things she wanted to do upon arriving were to wear a stars-and-stripes T-shirt, see a baseball game while scarfing down a hot dog and follow it with a healthy helping of apple pie.

She spent her first few months in the U.S.A. settling in her new home with her folks, putting down roots, and advertising her talents and acumen as a housekeeping professional. Before she knew it, an entire year and a half passed. One day she heard through a friend that the wealthy and prestigious Madison Roschfeld was looking for a new maid. She leapt at the opportunity. Well, she didn’t exactly leap. She…tippy-toed. She was nervous dialing for an appointment to interview. But four months later, here she was.

She’d made acquaintances with the others, but not exactly friends. When an employee of Madison’s was taken onboard, he or she wasn’t just automatically accepted into the club-like camaraderie among the veteran employees. The rookie had to earn his or her membership into their offerings of friendship—their powwows, card games—with performance and resilience. It seemed bizarre to Karin that as more time was spent under Madison’s employ, her fellow service professionals grew more affable and amiable towards her, while Madison grew frostier and more aloof. Oh well, she thought, she wasn’t being paid to make friends, and she supposed she couldn’t do so with everyone. She wanted as many as possible to like her, but some simply wouldn’t, for any number of reasons.

She broke out her dish rag and wood milk to resume her tasks, polishing the furniture, as another servant made her way through.

“God dag, Gabby,” Karin greeted, balancing her tone with just the right mix of politeness and bubbly cheer. Gabby nodded.

“Karin.” It was the first time Karin could remember Gabby calling her by her first name. She considered it a step forward. She smiled. Things were looking up. Then she heard the bell again.

Ding-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling! “Miss Magnusson!”

Sigh. “Coming, Madame!”


March 20th, Keçiören Escort 7:43 p.m.

Karin’s workday had ended a couple of hours ago. She circled laps in the indoor pool on the ground floor, which she normally had more or less to herself. And she couldn’t deny liking it. She thought of these moments as hers, her own personal alone time. She spent it unwinding, pondering her most philosophical thoughts, swimming away all her tension and stress. Being submerged in the refreshing, rejuvenating water made her feel so fantastic, just so…alive. When she swam, there was nothing she couldn’t handle.

The pool door opened. Sandals shuffled along the tile floor until being slipped off and temporarily discarded.

It was Linny Cardell, a fellow blonde maid and resident of the Roschfeld Manor. A seasoned veteran at 25, she’d been under Madison Roschfeld’s care and employ a full six years. She was proficient at her job and had seniority over just about everyone taking vocation in the villa. And while her level of experience commanded respect from the rest of the help, she never wielded it over their heads or condescended to them. She and Karin had the pleasure of meeting only a scant few brief times. Linny was about as nice and sweet as they came, but due to this such tiny margin of being acquainted, Karin didn’t even notice. If the truth be told, Linny was not the first fellow staff member to whom she’d been introduced. And she had become pretty accustomed to the others’ stoic attitude towards her, the new kid in town. Their indifference and apathy blinded her of Linny’s sweet disposition.

Linny, for her part, very much enjoyed meeting Karin. As a matter of fact, she wished to get to know her better. Much better.

A warm sensation tingled inside her as she watched Karin cover the circumference of the pool, oblivious at the moment to her presence. She smiled, lowered herself to the floor and dipped her toes in the water, getting her feet figuratively and literally wet.

From the moment they’d been introduced, Linny had begun fostering a crush. And crushes did not come easy to her. She’d always been very picky with potential mates. She’d had bad experiences as a teen, and learned not to let just anyone close to her heart. But time soothed her wounds to the point that she felt ready to open back up. This determination was reinforced by one quick visual assessment of Karin Eva Magnusson. She was the most irrefutably gorgeous woman Linny ever had the pleasure of laying eyes upon. She bode her time waving her feet, wiggling her toes, until Karin made her way back around to the area of the pool where she sat.

Karin slowed her strokes as she noticed the pair of dangling gams greeting her at the edge. “…Oh.”

Linny smiled with a wave. “Hi, Karin!”

“Oh, hello…” Karin greeted, treading. She was a bit embarrassed, unable to retrieve the name of this gal who clearly knew her.

“…Um…oh, gosh, you’re…vait, don’t tell me…”

She mentally toiled on it a few moments, but try as she might, the name wouldn’t come.

“…All right, tell me.”

“I’m Linny. Linny Ann Cardell. We do some of the same duties.”

“Oh! Of course, of course,” nodded Karin. “Vell, uh…hi, Linny…vhat’s up?”

“Oh,” Linny gave an idle wave of the hand. “…I…just thought I’d have a dip. I didn’t know anyone would be here,” she coyly lied.

“Oh, I see. Vell, I vas just about to take a little break. If you’d like, you can have the pool to yourself for a vhile.”

“Oh, no, please, that won’t be necessary!” said Linny. “…Perhaps we can share.”

Karin shrugged, oblivious to Linny’s amorous motives. “I’m game if you are.”

A very happy Linny slid the rest of her body down into the heated chlorinated water. “Ooooh, it feels good!” she chortled.

Karin tilted her body backwards 90° until she was motionlessly floating horizontally on her back.

“It alvays feels good,” she contentedly sighed to Linny, hearing now compromised with her ears underwater. “It’s so soothing.”

Linny watched her float. She couldn’t deny a certain measure of intrigue, watching this chick on whom she’d held a rapidly growing infatuation, clad in only her swimsuit, innocently, tranquilly gliding across the surface of the pool, not a care in the world. Eyes gently closed, she looked so serene, so ever at peace. Linny was sure the girl had no idea of her feelings for her.

She reveled in the girl’s splendor: the way the traces of water ran back down her silky soft skin, her curvaceous starfish pose, her shapely magnificence radiating from the tips of her adorable little piggy toes to the tip of her perfectly straight-edged nose. And all the delectable eye candy that lay between. Her plush ruby lips, her swanlike neck, her slender arms, her petite hands and fingers down to the almond-shaped pink-polished nails, her fabulously bobbing spheres, her rising and falling belly, her ever so slightly jutting hips, her Etimesgut Escort lovely legs splayed at a 30° angle, and finally her daintily relaxed tootsies submerged to the heels.

Oh, please let her like girls too, Linny silently, longingly prayed, trying to fight off the irresistibly tempting urge to playfully tickle her toes. I swear I don’t usually ask for very much, but just please, please, please grant me the possibility that she might feel the same way about me. Just the possibility. That’s all I ask. I’ve been a good girl. I deserve this.

Karin’s eyes opened as she felt the tingly sensation ride down the sole of her left foot.

“Eee!” she exclaimed in a startled giggle, drawing her foot back. Linny immediately blushed as Karin raised her head.

“Linny?…V—…vas that you?”

Oh, dear. Which answer would serve as her better option? The evasive one?…

Oh, was it? Excuse me, Karin, I was floating too, and I guess my finger accidentally touched your foot.

…Or the honest one?

Oh, was it? Excuse me, Karin, I…just…uh…find you devastatingly attractive and beguiling, and I felt the unignorable urge to just…touch you somehow, and at the same time, I happen to have a particularly goofy, somewhat naughty sense of humor, and-and, I…I just couldn’t help it, I just had to find out if you, eh…y’know…might be a little…well…ticklish.

Karin was staring curiously at her. Linny forced herself to make words. Any answer was better than no answer at all.

“Oh, was it?…Um…excuse me, Karin, I…I-I’m sorry, I just…it-it was an accident.”

She immediately regretted the fib as soon as it left her mouth. Not only was it not an accident, this “explanation” sounded pitiful.

Karin nodded. “Oh, that’s okay, Lin. You just caught me off-guard. I’m extremely ticklish. Extremely. Honest, no kidding, you hold me down and just go crasy on me, I’ll tell you every secret I’ve ever had in my life,” she chuckled.

She was joking, but her allure for Linny suddenly multiplied tenfold.

“You don’t say…y’know, Kare, you may have just shared the wrong secret with me.”

Karin giggled again. “Uh-oh,” she played along.

Okay. Well, that started a little awkward, but we got out of it. Let’s see, how else might we be able to move this along…

“You know, we haven’t really had a chance to get to know each other very well,” offered Linny.

“Vell, I’m a pretty open person. I’m alvays up for possibly making a new friend…then again, who isn’t?”

Hmm…friend, huh? Well, all right. I guess I don’t mind being friends for a while first.

“Oh, cool. Well, uh…where shall we start?”

Karin darted her eyes back and forth across the ceiling in thought. “Vell, you know my name, my job, vhere I live…”

Linny chuckled. “Yeah, same two outta three as me.”

“Vhat else do you vanna know?”

What do I wanna know? I wanna know if you think you might love me one day. I wanna know if you’d consider running away with me to a faraway island where we could leave all this behind and just be together forever, nourishing one another with only the fruit of our endless devotion and love, bound for only a lifetime of happiness together beneath the eternal starlit nights—…

Whoa! Good God, Linny, cool it! Lucky thing she can’t read our mind. Slow the hell down, girl! At least get to know the doll first!

“Uh, hmm…oh, I know. Where are you from originally? I love your accent.”

“Oh, vhy, thank you! Tack så mycket! I’m from Sveden, a little part of Stockholm called Huddinge.”

“Oh, wow, that’s awesome! Gosh, I’d love to see Sweden sometime,” said Linny, casting the line, dropping a small hint.

“It’s very beautiful, yes. And very cold. But I love it here even more. America is my home now.”

“Oh. Huh. Well, y’know, I’ve lived here all my life. I guess that’s why I’d like to explore other parts of the world. Grass is always greener, y’know. I guess at this point America’s a little…I dunno, ordinary and dull to me now.”

“Oh, nonsense!” Karin said, raising her head to look her in the face. “You’re so lucky, Linny! You should cherish your homeland! I cherish mine too, but America’s just so magnificent! So much tradition, history, culture! I feel so fortunate I’ve been able to make my own place in this vunderful nation! Believe me, I vouldn’t trade my Svedish life for anything, but Herre Gud allsmäktig!”

Wow…she obviously feels much stronger about this than I realized. Maybe I should heed her advice.

“Well, I mean, that’s certainly true too,” Linny agreed. “I guess…I dunno, I guess it just seems to me that Americans are…well, they sorta give off this…’cooler-than-thou’ image. If that makes sense. They seem kinda lackadaisical. At least in my experience. Like they think they’re…’too good’ for certain things or something. Especially younger people. I mean, they…they act uninterested in things, or…or in other people, ’cause they think it makes them look hip or whatever. Like…they laugh at horror movies. They use sarcasm for amusement. If something doesn’t utterly blow their minds, they just criticize it. They’re uptight about sex. If you’re not a prude, you’re a slut. And vice versa. I…” She shrugged. “…I guess it’s not the country itself that disconcerts me, it’s more the population.”

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