Author: H.R. Kaye

A Strange Tale of Corruption

About: When Elizabeth was hired as the new live-in maid, Roger though he had never seen anyone more beautiful. At his young age, he fell wildly in love with her. What evolves in this fascinating story can only be described as a contemporary example of evil, depravity and destruction.

Although written in a modern-day setting, the reader is unable to avoid the feeling in being in an era when such deeds were considered unspeakable, and could only happen in a socially immoral country alien to ours.

Excerpt:

“Roger, this is Elizabeth, our new maid. Elizabeth, this is my son and only child, Roger. I'm sure the two of you will get along just fine.”

How was my mother to know what ironic overtones those words would come to have? If she had been able to see into the future and examine what was soon to transpire between Elizabeth and myself, not to mention the part my mother would have, she would have immediately sent the new maid away.

Thank God she didn't!

I say that in spite of the dreadful change Elizabeth wrought in all of us. Yes, regardless of the utter destruction and degeneration that fell on our family, I would do it all over again. I do not care what others say about normality and abnormality. Elizabeth was my Aphrodite, my Helen, and the heavenly joys I experienced with her were well worth the pain and anguish that accompanied those joys.

As Elizabeth seated herself primly on the sofa and listened to Mother outline a maid's duties, I sat literally stunned, drinking the exotic ambrosia of her feminine presence. She had extremely long, dazzlingly blonde hair that fell in a brazen swirl around the white column of her neck and onto her shoulders. Her eyes were patches of bluest sky, twinkling with merriment, and mischief. Her mouth was a miracle in itself. The upper lip was thinner than usual, and the lower lip was full and ripe. Her lipstick made a strange, pretty little pout of this combination, and I found it intoxicating. Even as I sat watching her on that first day, I dreamed of touching her beautiful lips with mine, wanting to kiss her and bury my face in the perfumed luxury of her cascading hair. I was deaf and blind to all but her incredible loveliness. Finally I was snapped out of my dream by the drone of my mother's voice.

“Roger, Roger dear, will you please carry Elizabeth's luggage upstairs? She will have the room next to yours, off the hallway.”

I fell out of my trance and leaped to my feet, visibly eager, blushing as both women laughed at my obvious boyishness.

“Well, Miss,” my mother said, “it seems that you have already won this rascal over, but he's a reasonably good boy and I know he won't give you any trouble.”

“No, I'm sure he won't,” Elizabeth answered, and her voice was deep, husky, like flowing, warm honey.

I took her suitcases and followed her up the stairs. Her full buttocks strained against the short corduroy skirt she wore. Each step she took made the twin mounds of sculpted flesh press tightly against the skirt's material until I could see the outline of her panties. Her waist was so small I could easily have reached around her with both hands. How I wanted to do just that! In my desire, I wanted only to touch her, to brush my lips against hers and wind my hands in her long, thick hair.

I was still in the dark as to what exactly went on between men and women, although I had heard elaborate tales from Harold. I knew Harold was prone to augment truth with his fantasies and therefore I was slightly skeptical about his graphic descriptions of what he did to the girls he slept with. I knew only that our new maid, my darling Elizabeth, could make me burn with a fleet smile, could make my loins throb and smolder with a casual flicker from her long, blonde eyelashes.

I was beside myself with happiness as a result of my mother's choice of rooms for Elizabeth. She was to be in the room next to mine!

I stood behind Elizabeth as she opened the door to her new room, close enough to inhale the incense of her perfumed body. She smelled like a thousand flowers. Clean and sweet.

She walked into the room and turned to me, gesturing to the corner where she wanted her luggage placed. I put the bags down and turned to leave. Elizabeth was smiling strangely and my cheeks were burning with embarrassment and excitement.

“Thank you very much, Roger,” she said. “I think you're a very handsome boy. How old are you?”

She ran her fingers through my hair playfully. I thought I was going to faint from sheer excitement and frustration.

“I—I'm thirteen, barely....” I stammered.

“My! You're a large boy for only thirteen,” she said. “I was certain you were at least sixteen or seventeen.”

I was dumbfounded. I stood shuffling my feet and staring down at the carpet.

“Well, Roger, you're a dear for helping me,” she said. “I'm sure we can have a lot of fun together. Run along now, I want to change clothes, and it wouldn't be proper for you to see me, now would it?”

I blurted a No and ran out of the room.