Ms. Lynette Docea
I left my bedroom and had a feeling he was in his mother's room. I just knew my Master was in here without being able to explain how I knew. I knocked on the door softly. "Master, may we speak."
"Come in," he said, his voice soft.
I opened the door to find him cuddled beneath the sheets of his mother's bed. Her head rested on his chest, her blonde hair pillowing across his features. She looked to be dozing herself, her hand absently playing with his cock. They had made love for a while. The room was musty with their incestuous love.
It was such a beautiful sight.
"What is it, Ms. Docea?" he asked, smiling at me.
"Master Hayward, I have to travel to England to recruit a maid," I aid. "She teaches at Oxford. A Welsh MILF and professor of mythology. I think she'll be useful."
He nodded, understanding my meaning. "Good, good. Let me think... Take Gloria, Alisha, Zeta, Virginia, and... Marsha. Yes, take Dr. Marsha with you."
"Of course, Master." I was glad he selected Marsha. He really did understand. I curtsied and left to gather the women he named.
I soon found them. Gloria, one of my students who wore a green garter. Alisha, the Muslim slut with an orange garter. The innocent Zeta with her white garter. Virginia the Daughter-Maid with her bronze garter. And Dr. Marsha Peterson, one of my maids in a gray garter. One of each variety.
We all packed quick overnight bags with our toiletries and spare uniforms. They charged their phones and grabbed any entertainment. Zeta, Alisha, Virginia, and Gloria had switches that they packed away. They were all gabbing about it. The maids made trips into town to buy what they wanted.
It was all charged to the estate. Somehow. Know one ever received a bill, but I had a feeling that Cali managed the accounts behind the scenes. She did disappear at times. She definitely controlled the vast fortunes of Hayward Estate.
It made sense. She was immortal. She had probably shepherded the family wealth for six hundred years through so many situations. It would make a fascinating study on the various ways the Estate handled its investments over so many centuries.
Once I figured out how to achieve Lance's goal, I could study this idea.
An hour later, I was driving us to the airport in Concord for our flight to London. I had no idea how we would get there. That wasn't really my concern. I knew we would. That was all that mattered. I found parking and we headed to British Air's table.
"I need tickets for six to the UK on the next flight," I said. "Best seats. Bump people if you must. This is Hayward business."
"Of course," the woman said, the power of the Hayward magic never failing to impress me. "Let me see what we have. Okay, I can get you on a connecting flight to Dulles in Washington D.C. You'll have an hour layover than a straight flight to Heathrow. Six tickets in business class. Maids of Hayward Manor."
She printed off our tickets. They indeed just said Maid of Hayward Manor for our names. I passed them out to us and we headed through to security I just went up to the woman managing the line and said, "We need to pass through as fast as possible. Hayward Manor business."
Our flight was in fifteen minutes.
"This way," she said and led us to the pilot screening. There was no line here.
We marched up and I said briskly, "Hayward Manor business. No time for screening."
"Right," he said and waved us through.
And like that, we were in the airport proper. We rushed to our gate, the flight boarding. We flashed our tickets. It was a domestic flight, so they weren't checking IDs or anything. It wasn't even a British Airway plane, I realized. It was US Airways. Well, it was just getting us to our connection.
We settled in our seats and had a short flight to Dulles.
We grabbed a bite to eat, the maids all giddy with anticipation. It was the first for all but Marsha. Zeta, Virginia, Alisha, and Gloria were all so young. They looked about, so cute in their maid uniforms. I smiled, feeling like I was taking my students on a field trip.
"Mmm, we could eat pussy to pass the time," Alisha suggested.
"I'm too excited for that!" gasped Zeta. "Look at that plane taking off! Wow!"
She watched a four-engine 777 lifting off into the sky. It had UPS livery, climbing higher and higher. It was an impressive sight. The girls were so eager for it. I just rolled my eyes at the sexual antics.
"You can eat pussy on the plane," I told Alisha. We're in business class. You'll have our own pods with seats that recline back. You can even sleep on them." That was my plane.
"Wow," said Alisha. The Muslim girl smiled. She wasn't a very faithful Muslim girl. The tramp stamp she had on her lower back had a flowing word. It looked beautiful written in Arabic script. It was sharmota.
Whore.
She had that tattoo before Nancy recruited her. Sadness panged me. Nancy was such a vivacious woman, and she had been taken from us so suddenly. I pushed down my sadness. She was waiting for us in the Hay. We would be with her for eternity.
A heaven of unending bliss.
Soon, they called our flight. British Air Flight 1911. They asked for passports from everyone but us.
We didn't need those. We were on Hayward business.
I found my seat and leaned back, ready for a peaceful flight. I couldn't wait to recruit Dr. Rhianna Darby.
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