Do Not Disturb by Rachel Kramer Bussel

Author:Rachel Kramer Bussel [Various]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2013-07-03T00:00:00+00:00

A Touch of Class, a Bit of Rough

Rose de Fer

The Falkenberg Arms crouched like a giant mythical beast on the cliffs above the Cornish coast. Waves crashed on the rocky beach below and wild countryside sprawled behind it. The stately and sombre façade belied the extravagance of its interior. It was a playground for the fabulously wealthy, an escape from reality. If, that was, the fabulously wealthy could be said to inhabit anything like ‘reality’.

That was what Emma thought anyway, as she wore her most subservient smile and said ‘sir’ and ‘madam’ and even on occasion ‘your Lordship’ and ‘your Ladyship’. Royalty never checked themselves in, of course; they had people to do that for them.

The ones with real class were lovely. Utterly charming and gracious in the way that only the very well-bred ever were. Like Lord Charnock, the gentleman who had spent the previous summer with them. He had always smiled at Emma and wished her a pleasant afternoon, treating her with as much courtesy as he would any of his peers. It was the nouveau riche who put on airs and felt the need to be treated like visiting dignitaries, to constantly remind others – and themselves – that they were at the top of the food chain now.

Emma sized them all up as they registered for their enviably long stays at the Falkenberg Arms. The resort boasted spectacular views of the sea and the surrounding countryside, as well as a luxurious spa and a world-renowned restaurant. On occasion the staff were given little treats from the kitchen – sweets or pastries that weren’t good enough for the elite clientele but were still perfectly edible. But that was as far as the generosity of the management went. There were no free passes to the spa or gratis bottles of champagne, no two-for-one meal deals. One of the maids, Kerstin, had even been sacked for eating the chocolates they left on the guests’ pillows at night.

‘Girl? Are you paying attention? Girl!’

Emma looked up, her face betraying no hint of irritation at the woman who stood tapping her thick beringed fingers on the desk. She was a substantial lady, her breasts straining at the confines of the tailored suit she had no doubt had made to her dream measurements rather than her actual ones. How she must covet Emma’s petite figure, her high, firm breasts and tiny waist, her tight little arse, which even now clenched around the rubber shaft of the anal plug Patrick had inserted that morning.

‘Yes, madam? How may I help you?’

Emma was the consummate professional, the perfect servant. The guests could flaunt their wealth and power all they wanted and they could do their best to make her feel inferior. But their petty ways never fazed her. In truth, she found some of it almost endearing. She liked to imagine that they were Victorians who’d got caught in some kind of time warp and wound up in a world where people no longer ‘knew their place’ but had ‘ideas above their stations’.

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