Warning: Contains graphic sexual content. Read at your own risk.
When you were a child, you’d never think you’d end up as someone’s maid. You always believed you’d become a princess and live in a castle once your prince charming would come to sweep you off your feet. Sadly, your parents both ended up losing their jobs in the recent economic collapse and jobs have been tight. You looked everywhere until you found that a man was looking for a maid on craigslist. The pay was good, and you did your tasks well as told. The house you worked in wasn’t even that bad; it was practically a mansion compared to the flat your parents lived in. There was just one problem…
The man who hired you was a complete pervert. No, he didn’t ask for any sexual favors – thank god – but there were times whenever he’d feel up your legs and hips whenever you were trying to do work and whisper French phrases in your ear; he’s even groped your breasts on occasion – though he’d never get out of it unscathed. His name was Francis Bonnefoy, but most people who talked to him called him France. You, however, always referred to him as “Master.” It was a customary thing for your line of work. Along with your job, you also had school; you were a freshman in college, and so far school has been brutal. Thankfully, France allowed you to live with him since the college you attended was in France – the country, not the person – and you didn’t really have enough to get a dorm.
You tolerated France’s antics to the best of your abilities. As much of a pervert as he was, he wasn’t that bad of a man. He never crossed the line once it was drawn, and would sometimes give you little pet names, and most of his quirks were rather mild. You helped cook and clean, as well as serving dishes for guests, and were allowed breaks for school work. Your parents were still back at home in (hometown), and you’d write to them often, sending them some of the money you made. You’ve managed to keep a level head and did your work diligently… for the most part.
It all started about two weeks ago. France was out in the garden with a collogue of his, and you were asked to bring tea. The garden behind France’s house was beautiful; one of the largest you had ever seen. It was filled with roses, lilies, and many other assortments of beautiful flowers. You make your way out to the terrace where he and…
‘Wait a minute,’ your mind says to you, ‘who’s that woman there?’
Across from the garden table was a woman in a short-sleeved purple dress with dark blonde hair, blue eyes, glasses, and a large red bow in her hair. She glances up at you from the book she’s reading.
“Is something wrong, miss?” she asks.
“N-No, nothing’s wrong, ma’am,” you answer, bringing the tea tray to the table, “Are you a friend of Master’s?”
“France? Yeah,” she answers, “I’m a coworker of his… my name’s Monaco, though I’m guessing you can’t refer to me as that.”
“Right… what should I call you then?” you ask.
“Mistress sounds alright.”
As if on que, France appears from the garden.
“Ah, mon chere~” he says, “Thank you for bringing out tea.”
“You’re welcome, Master,” you reply, “Do you need me to do anything else?”
“No, that will be all,” he answers, kissing your hand.
“Yes, Master,” you say begrudgingly before walking back into the house.
Once inside, you peek out the window again to look at France and Monaco talk.
“France never said anything about the collogue that would be visiting being a woman,” you say to yourself, “She’s quite beautiful, and the two of them appear to get along quite well. How do these two know each other, anyways? Were they family? Friends?... Lovers?... Wait... why am I getting worried about this? It’s none of my business!”
Assuring yourself, you simply walk away and get back to work.
Monaco would regularly visit the house over the following week. She was a nice woman, at least she appeared like it, but you still felt angry whenever you saw her and your Master talking so friendly. Tonight she was there again, only this time, to pick up France for a meeting.
“I’ll be eating out tonight, mon cher,” France said to you before departing, “So you’ll be alone tonight.”
“Yes, Master,” you reply begrudgingly, “I’ll look over the house until you get back.”
“Thank you,” France says, but stops in the doorway, “Ah, I almost forgot!”
“Forgot what, Master?”
“I wanted to give you this. Here.”
France hands you a purple box tied closed with a black ribbon.
“It’s some chocolates I just got today. You’ve been working hard and I thought you’d like a little treat.”
“Why thank you, master…” you say in genuine surprise, taking the box.
“You’re quite welcome!”
“France, we’re going to be late!” Monaco called from the doorway.
“Well, I have to go, _________.”
“Yes sir. I’ll keep watch of the place.”
You watched as France walked out of the house. As he leaves, you watch him and Monaco leave from the window. Before they get in the car, you notice the two of them stop… and then see Monaco adjust his tie. After that, he gave her a peck on the cheek.
“No… don’t do that,” you mutter, “You’re supposed to do that to me…”
After that, they got into the car and left. You take in a deep breath and start to walk around the house, doing whatever chores there were still around.
“It’s strange…” you say to yourself as you go about the rest of the evening by yourself, “Ever since that woman started visiting, I’ve been feeling rather strange… for some reason I’ve been thinking a lot about Master, and not how I usually do…”
You had a small dinner by yourself. The table was rather quiet without France around. It was… gloomy almost.
“Even now with him gone… I can’t get him off of my mind...”
You washed the dishes and finished the rest of your chores… alone.
“Why is this?...” You walk over to a window, looking outside in front solemnly. “Could it be that… maybe I really am…” You catch yourself before you finish the sentence. “WHY AM I TALKING TO MYSELF??” You bang your forehead against the window in frustration, leaving behind a noticeable red mark. “I’m going crazy… whelp, I guess when worse comes to worse, there’s only one thing to do; Sweets Binge!”
You remember the box of chocolates that France gave you before he left. That box WAS for you; it’s not like he’d mind you having some right now.
Of course… just a few.
And by a few, you mean half the top row of the box.
However, as you eat each one, you start feeling a little strange… that was when you finally noticed the strange burning sensation you got with each bite was from the alcohol in them.
“I… Idiot,” you slur out, “He… He know I’m *hic* underage! ... I should probably… *hic* go to bed…”
You get up from you seat, leaving behind the opened box, and stumbled up the stairs, your footing uneven in your inebriated state. You suddenly find yourself stopping in front of the door that led to France’s room. You stare at the door with half-lidded eyes. “Master’s room… I… I suppose a peak wouldn’t hurt…” Your hand trembles as it grasps the brass knob and turns it. Your arm pushes forward as you step into your master’s bedroom. Already you’re greeted to the scent of flowers and wine. You push the door behind you to close it, but it ends up slightly ajar without you noticing. You walk forward and gaze at the queen-sized bed in the center of the large room. The entire room was elegant, but you couldn’t help but stare at just the bed… You walk over noticing one of France’s shirts on it.
Against what your better judgment might’ve said – that being to get out of the room and into yours – you pick up the shirt and sit down on the bed. You hold the shirt up to your mouth and nose and inhale deeply, you face blushing redder than it was moments ago.
“It smells like… lilies… and chanson… and…”
You fall over, your head landing on the soft pillow of the bed as your eyes close.
You hear a voice.
It’s Master’s voice. His seductive, charming voice echoes through your head. Slowly you open your eyes.
“Ma…s…ter…” you call him out, “…Fr…ance…?”
“_________, wake up.”
You’re suddenly called back to reality by that statement. Your eyes widen and your head turns, and you find yourself looking up at your Master.
“Oh!” You sit back up, rubbing your eyes, “Welcome home, Master. Did the meeting go well?”
France merely smirks at you.
“W… What?” you cock and eyebrow.
“What’s that you’re cuddling with?”
“Huh???” you look down, noticing France’s shirt in your lap. “UAAAAAAAAH!”
You’re in so much trouble!
“It-It-It-It’s not what it looks like I swear!!” you yell, your face red with embarrassment, “I-I got drunk off of the chocolates you gave me and I was feeling a little tired. I was afraid I might’ve frozen to death so I just-“
“In my bedroom?”
“What do you mean your…” your mind finally registers where you were.
Forget in trouble; you were dead where you were standing!
“I… I…” before you can find a way to respond, France suddenly pushes you back onto the bed and gets on top of you, his legs right between yours.
“You know, I’ve been suspicious about you since the very beginning, _________,” France says in an almost accusing tone as he removed his shirt, “But to see you in my room, on my bed, cuddling one of my shirts… well, I can only really think of that as an invitation~”
You feel him slide a hand up the skirt of your uniform, which you fight to your best abilities. You were feeling flushed with a mix of heat and embarrassment.
“W-Why are you doing this!?” you yell at him, tossing a pillow in his face, “You already have Monaco!!”
France abruptly stops, and his eyes widen in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“DON’T PLAY DUMB WITH ME!” you yell at him, tears of anger filling your vision, “I don’t know why, but I’ve been feeling weird lately! I get weird whenever you touch me! You’re making me into a kind of person I don’t want to be!... M-Monaco is a very nice person, I’ll admit that! But whenever I see you two together, it just pisses me off! It just makes me want to hit her!!...” you cover your red face with the shirt you cuddled, “I don’t know what to do… I’m becoming a horrible, nasty person because of you! ...”
France merely looked at you, before finally responding, “… It’s because you’re in love with me, isn’t it?”
“I suppose I should’ve known better than leaving you alone and letting your mind wander off in some pointless direction… but what on Earth made you think I was with Monaco? She’s a good friend, and even like a sister… but that’s all she’s ever been and all she ever will be.”
“Wh... huh?...” Slowly your eyes peek out from under the shirt.
“I’ve actually had my heart set on someone else for quite a while…”
“W… Who would that be?...” you couldn’t imagine who it’d be.
“Well… she’s a very diligent woman; hardworking, studious, very ambitious as well… though I must admit she can be rather, shall we say, fierce. She’s not always honest about her feelings… though I can tell she’s actually a very caring and kind person hiding behind a tough exterior.”
“W… Who is it?...”
“Isn’t it obvious?” France gently moves the shirt out of the way of your face, tossing it aside, and plants his lips on yours. You blush profusely, feeling his lips against yours. Your body relaxes and your grip on the pillow in your hands loosens. You find yourself kissing him back with equal passion and wrap his arms around your neck. He places his hands on your hips, gently massaging them in small circles. You instinctively let out a small moan as your eyes roll back in your skull, practically melting in his arms. Maybe it was just the alcohol that’s suddenly making you putty in his hands, but you weren’t sure. France pulls away. “It’s you.”
Your face was completely red. “Y… You’re just saying that, aren’t you…”
“No… I’m being sincere…” He gives you a soft kiss on the neck, “I love you, _________...”
“I… I…” you weren’t sure what to say. A part of you wanted to say “I love you” back to him, but another part of you kept those words caught in your throat.
“If you don’t believe me,” he whispered into your ear, “let me prove that to you.”
--The following scene is a sex scene; if you don’t wish to read this, please skip ahead--
France gently kisses you lips again before kissing down your jawline and neck, his soft lips caressing your skin. Against your better judgment, you allow him access as his hands wrap around your back to undo the lace holding your uniform together. As he does this, you also feel him undo your bra and slip both of them right off. Gently his hand moves to your breast and begins gently massaging it. You try your best to hold back a moan by biting your lip, which ends up drawing a little blood. France gently lick up the blood before kissing you once again as you allow his tongue to explore the insides of your mouth. He draws back and whispers in your ear, “Je sensation de soif, mon cher. Puis-je s'il vous plaît verre?” You blush, having picked up plenty of French over the years you’ve spent in this country. He certainly had a way with words. You nod your head in approval, blushing profusely.
You feel as his lips gently kiss down your throat and collarbone down you your breast. He gives the nipple a quick peck before gently and eagerly suckling on your teat. This time, you don’t hold in the moan in your throat as your head reels back in pleasure. You start to feel a section of his pants tighten against your wet opening. France slowly snakes a hand down to your panties, but you snap your legs together. He pops the nipple out of his mouth and looks back up to you. “Toujours nerveux, je vois? Ne vous inquiétez pas, mon amour ...” You feel his hands massage your hips again, making your lower body relax and giving him the opening to remove your panties with his teeth. He discards the clothing and smirks down at you. “Vous êtes déjà si mouillée ~”
My god he sounded sexy speaking French.
He kisses your neck as his hand moves to your wet opening. His fingers slowly rub against your clit, sending pleasure up your spine. “Ngh… F-Faster! ... Please, faster...!” you gasp. Your head reels back as his hand quickens in pace “Ooohhhh… Ah! ...” Your breath was hot and heavy, and your heartbeat was racing rapidly. Soon he draws his hand back and examines your juices covering it. He licks away the juices, enjoying their taste, and smirks at you.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
“R… Ready for what?...” you say with heaving breaths. Slowly he sits back up and proceeds undoing his belt. He tosses it aside along with the dress pants he was wearing. Finally, he removes his underwear… and you face immediately turns red at the sight of his erect member. “Like what you see, non?” he says in a seductive tone as he removes the final article of clothing. He proceeds to get in position, his sheath right in front of your entrance. “Then you’ll like this more…”
“W-Wait!” you say, getting his attention. “I… This is the first time I’ve… you know… just to let you know.” You flush with embarrassment.
“Ah… Don’t worry, my dear,” Frances gives you a small, reassuring kiss on the forehead, “I’ll be gentle, I promise… are you ready?”
You swallow hard as you nod your head. This was actually going to happen… as much as the person you were yesterday would disagree, you’ve secretly wanted this. You weren’t going to let yourself stop it now that you’ve gone this far.
Slowly, you feel France enter inside you. Already, you feel the discomfort of having something foreign suddenly inside you, but you let him go ahead. Finally, he’s inside you and you feel your hymen break. You bit your lip, fighting against screaming in pain as tears escape your eyes. France notices this and gently kisses you once more, letting you get comfortable before continuing. You soon calm down and give him the signal to keep going. Slowly he proceeds to slide in and out of you at a slow, gentle pace, letting the pain slowly dissolve into pleasure. “F-Faster, France… Faster!...” you moan, giving France the que to pick up the speed. His proceeds to start going much faster, sliding in and out of your easily. You start feeling your walls tighten around the sheath, creeping closer and closer to a climax.
“Oh!... Oh, _________! You’re so tight!...” France moans, “Je pense que je suis sur le ...!”
“Almost there… Just… AH!...” You could hardly hold yourself back any longer.
“YES!! OH FRANCE, YES!!”
The deed done, you feel France exit out of you as he pulls the bedsheets over you two. Your energy spent, the two of you simply grind against each other lazily.
“M… Master?...” you say.
“I… I think I…” you swallow hard before finishing the sentence, “love you…”
France let out a small chuckle and gently kissed your lips again. “I think you mean, “Definitely.”
You cuddle close to him as he wraps his arms around you, and you close your eyes in content.
‘Yeah,’ you mind says to you, ‘Definitely…’
--Okay you can look now--
The sound of singing birds awoke France the following morning. His eyes slowly opened, feeling something in his arms. He looked down to see you sleeping peacefully beside him. He smiled and gave you a small kiss on the forehead, watching your lips curl into a smile. In sleep, you were unable to hide your feelings. He got up, letting you sleep in a little more, and headed to the bathroom for a shower. Once he was done and dressed, he heard his phone ringing. He went over and answered it.
“Ello, you’ve reached Francis Bonnefoy,” he said into the receiver.
“France! It’s Britain,” a familiar British voice spoke.
“Ah, what is it, Arthur?”
“I’m calling you to remind you that we have an important meeting today. It’s at 10:00, so you better not be late!”
“Ah!” France remembered, “Well…” his eyes suddenly gaze back to his bedroom door. A small smile came across his face. “Actually… tell the others I won’t be able to make it. Today’s a special day, and I intent to spend it with a very special someone~”
“What!? You can’t just-“
“Oh yes I can!” France taunted the frustrated brit, “I’ll talk to you again soon.”
“Wha- DON’T YOU DARE HANG UP YOU STUPID SON OF A-“
France hung up.
It was certainly a special day for you both.