Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Alfred, let go, you’re hurting me.”

Alfred’s hands had gripped Claire’s wrists tightly, his fingers digging into her skin. She tried to wriggle out of his grip, but to no avail. Claire knew that his father was a sensitive subject. She shouldn’t have mentioned him, especially given Alfred’s miserable mood over the last few days. His ribs haven’t fully healed yet, the facility was still a mess, and some Umbrella executives were pestering him. All of this took its toll on Alfred’s mental well-being.

Claire hadn’t meant any harm with her words. She had thought it might help Alfred a little to talk to someone about his past, and the moment seemed convenient. She had also wanted to test her boundaries. Alfred was starting to trust her, and Claire wanted to know how far that trust went.

“Didn’t I tell you that he’s none of your business?” Alfred asked rhetorically, his voice raised. His eyes were narrowed with anger, his face reddened.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...” Claire tried to free herself once more and failed again. Alfred only squeezed harder. She was afraid. In this mental state, the man standing right in front of her was exceptionally dangerous. What would he do to her now? She knew he didn’t shy away from murder and worse. But how far would he go with her? She had been living with him for about a month now. If he wanted to kill her, he would have had countless opportunities to do so. No. He wouldn’t kill her. But he didn’t have to go to extremes to hurt her.

Claire considered her options. She could try to kick him between the legs. That would surely make him let go of her. But even if she managed to free herself, there was no place she could run to. And it would only make Alfred angrier and possibly cause him to cross the final line with her.

Out of nowhere, the pressure disappeared. Claire looked at Alfred in surprise. He said nothing, just turned around and walked away. Indecisive, Claire remained where she was. Did he want her to follow him, or would that only upset him further?

Claire looked at her sore wrists. Alfred’s handprints were still visible in the form of red markings. She had no doubts that bruises would remain, but she was relieved that nothing worse had happened. This was the first time Alfred had ever laid a hand on her. Until now, he had been better at controlling his anger issues towards her, either because they had gotten through that terrible night together or because he had grown to enjoy her company. He had yelled at her a few times, though, but he had never hurt her. Claire would have to talk to him about it when he had calmed down. He had no right to treat her like that. She did almost everything he told her to do, with little or no complaint. For that, he owed her a little respect, and that included not mistreating her.

Claire followed Alfred at a brisk pace, but as quietly as possible. She didn’t have far to go. At the end of the corridor, a door stood open. Claire approached the open door and peered into the room. Alfred was on the phone with someone. He was speaking quietly and had his back to her, so she couldn’t understand what he was saying or who he was talking to. However, his body language told her that his anger had not yet subsided.

A few minutes later, Alfred hung up and left the room. His expression was blank. He paid no attention to Claire, who was still standing next to the door. He headed for the back door and disappeared through it less than five minutes later.

Claire wondered where Alfred was going. After dinner, he rarely left his mansion unless he went into the garden or visited his horse. But both the garden and the stable were in the opposite direction and were more easily accessible through the front door. Through the back door, he could only reach the Umbrella facility, but Claire doubted that Alfred was in the mood for late-night work. And since she hadn’t heard the phone ring, it couldn’t have been an emergency call that required Alfred’s presence. No, Alfred must have called someone, but who and why?

Alfred had told her that she was not allowed to leave his villa alone unless she had a task that required her to do so. However, the Umbrella facility was completely off-limits to Claire. Alfred didn’t even want to take her there with him. The risk of someone discovering her was too great. The cleanup after the attack was taking longer than expected, and the place was still swarming with Umbrella’s people.

Her curiosity was strong, as was her anger at Alfred’s behavior, but Claire wasn’t going to risk her safety just to satisfy both. She didn’t want to provoke Alfred any further either. He wouldn’t listen to her now anyway. When he came back, he might be in a better mood, and she would have her chance to confront him about what had just happened.

The hours dragged on. Claire looked at her watch and noticed that it was already midnight. Where had Alfred gone? She had sat down in the small room next to the back door, which gave her a good view of the path he had to take. While waiting for Alfred to return, Claire tried to entertain herself, but the more time passed, the less she could concentrate on anything. She should probably just go to sleep and try to talk to him tomorrow, but her aching wrists, which were slowly turning blue, wouldn’t let her. He would get at least a short lecture when he walked through the door.

Shortly after 2 a.m., she finally saw Alfred return through the window. She had dozed off a few times over the last two hours, but the uncomfortable chair she was sitting on had prevented her from sleeping for more than a few minutes at a time. Now, not only did Claire’s wrists hurt, but also her back.

She left the room and stood in front of the door. Claire had gone over what she was going to say to Alfred several times in her head. She had toned down some of the sharpness of her first versions and decided to appeal more to Alfred’s rational mind. That way, he would be more likely to listen to her than if she reacted too emotionally. Besides, there was a chance that he was still in a bad mood. It was not in Claire’s interest for Alfred to pick up where he had left off earlier that evening.

The door opened, and Alfred entered. He walked confidently toward her and stopped much too close. Claire opened her mouth, ready to say something, but suddenly couldn’t get a word out. Alfred’s aura had changed in the last few hours. She had seen many sides of Alfred Ashford, his good ones and far too many of his bad ones, but not this one. This wasn’t the Alfred she knew. No, this was a predator. His icy stare reminded her of a lion fixated on its prey—her. Unconsciously, Claire took half a step back. Her pain, forgotten in an instant.

“It’s late. Have you been waiting for me this whole time?” His words sounded friendly and relaxed. The way he spoke didn’t match the ominous aura he was radiating, which made Claire even more afraid.

She didn’t dare look him in the eye. Someone had once told her not to look predators in the eyes so as not to provoke them. Alfred took a step toward her, standing even closer now than before. He grabbed her right hand with his left and pulled it up slightly to look at her wrist.

“About earlier. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on you. That was wrong.” As he spoke, he gently ran the fingers of his other hand over the slowly forming bruises.

“I just couldn’t control myself.” He was standing too close to her. His sinister aura gave her goose bumps. Claire had never believed in God or the devil, but if someone told her now that the devil in the form of Alfred Ashford was standing right in front of her, she would believe it. Was this how an antelope felt when cornered by a hungry lion?

“Does it still hurt, Claire?”

She had forgotten how to speak and didn’t dare move her head. She allowed only her eyes to move. Claire forced herself to look at Alfred. From the floor next to him, which she had been staring at for a while, her gaze wandered cautiously to his shoes, then to his white pants, and up his legs. It finally lingered on a spot on his left thigh. Instantly, her eyes widened in shock. Her breathing quickened. The spot was about seven centimeters wide and slightly elongated. It had been caused by a liquid, but it had already dried. In the dim light of the hallway, it looked almost black.

Suddenly, Claire realized what Alfred had wanted at the Umbrella facility, or rather, in the prison. She hadn’t forgotten what she had seen there, but she hadn’t thought that he would have the opportunity to pursue this pastime in the current situation. Claire knew better, Alfred had taken his time after all, but she still hoped against her better judgement that whoever met Alfred tonight didn’t have to suffer for long.

Alfred hadn’t missed Claire’s reaction. He followed her gaze and finally found the cause.

“Oh, that. I was a little careless.” He chuckled. “But don’t worry, my dear little Claire, it’s not my blood.” She didn’t have to look at Alfred’s face to know that he was smiling.

Claire had thought he would brush it off. She hadn’t expected this reaction. No lie that it was something else. No excuse that he had hurt himself somewhere. No, Alfred wanted her to know what he did. Claire wanted to run away, but her body wouldn’t move, perhaps for the better. Someone also had once told her that you don’t run away from a predator. That would only awaken its hunting instincts.

“I think you should go to bed now, don’t you think? It’s late. Let me take you to your room. Okay?”

Alfred walked around her and wrapped his right arm around her waist, the blood now on the other side. The touch made her flinch. It felt different than usual. He wasn’t holding her particularly tightly, nor was it overly intimate. And yet it was somehow more intimate than any other time Alfred had ever touched her, more intimate than the few times she had slept with him. This touch reached something deep inside her, something that wasn’t physical. It felt as if Alfred Ashford was clutching her soul.

Claire kept her gaze fixed straight ahead and mechanically put one foot in front of the other as Alfred led her to her room. Once there, he gently but firmly pushed her inside.

“Good night, Claire. Sleep well and sweet dreams.” His voice sent a shiver down her spine. She doubted she would be able to get any sleep that night.

Alfred closed the door and locked it behind him. His footsteps receded, and the light that had been shining through the crack under the door went out. Claire didn’t have a key to the room, and the windows were barred, like all the windows on the ground floor. She was now at Alfred’s mercy, even more than before, and would have to wait and see what happened next. She remained sitting on her bed for the next hour, a letter opener in her hand. The blunt letter opener was not a particularly good weapon, but it was the best she could find.

However, the hallway outside her room remained quiet and dark. Alfred did not return. The next morning, her alarm clock woke her at 6:15 a.m., as usual. Claire was lying on the bed, the blanket beneath her. She was still wearing the clothes she had worn the day before. Claire was surprised that she must have fallen asleep at some point.

The door was still locked, so she waited for Alfred to return. A butler always brought the breakfast to the front door at 6:50 a.m. sharp, where Claire would take it and bring it to the dining room. Alfred always appeared at 7:00 a.m. for breakfast. He detested unpunctuality. 6:50 a.m. came and went, and so did 7:00 a.m. Claire wondered if Alfred was just going to leave her here to rot. At around 7:30 a.m., she finally heard the key in the lock. She took a deep breath, unsure of what would happen next. Alfred opened the door and stepped inside. He seemed to be his usual self again.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” He wasn’t just as usual; he was in an exceptionally good mood today. Claire smiled slightly, unsure what to make of this, and replied cautiously, “Good morning. Yes. ... Yes, I did.” She didn’t have a mirror in her room, but she assumed that the dark circles she most likely had under her eyes would betray her. She couldn’t fool Alfred anyway. So far, he had seen through all the lies she had told him.

“Good, good. I overslept a little, but I made up for it and took care of breakfast today. Are you coming to eat?” Claire had never seen Alfred so friendly before. The demonic presence had disappeared. But Claire couldn’t get him out of her head, the devil that stood before her last night. He had frightened her more than anything she had seen in Raccoon City.

“Sure. That’s really nice of you”, she spoke softly. Her words sounded hollow. Alfred must have noticed, but he didn’t react. He just turned around and walked slowly down the hallway. Claire followed Alfred to the dining room. From now on, she would refrain from testing her boundaries. What’s more, Claire would do anything to please Alfred. She didn’t want to encounter the devil again.

Chapter Text

The mop slithered systematically across the light marble floor, removing the dust particles that had accumulated over the past few days. Even though she couldn’t see any real difference between before and after, Claire conscientiously went about her task. Once she had finished this corridor, she would be done with the ground floor of the residence, but her work for today was not finished yet.

It had been almost two months since Claire had been brought to Rockfort Island as a prisoner. She had traded her prison cell for a castle, but otherwise, her situation hadn’t changed much. In a sense, she was still a prisoner, and it seemed that would remain the case, as Alfred had no intention of letting her go anytime soon. If someone were to ask her what she thought was more likely, that she would be home in a year, as Alfred had promised, or that she would still be stuck on Rockfort Island, married to Ashford and pregnant with his child, she would now tend to lean toward the latter. What terrified her the most about it was that with every passing day, she found the thought a tiny bit less repulsive.

At least Alfred had allowed her to move around freely in his mansion and, more recently, in the garden. Under supervision or when she had something to do there, she was now also allowed to enter other areas of the facility. Claire had even been to the town on the other side of the island a few times, accompanied by someone, of course. However, she was not allowed to leave the island unless Alfred took her with him, but that had not happened yet.

Alfred had also allowed her to call Leon once. The blond Ashford sat next to her the whole time, ready to intervene if Claire revealed too much. Claire had told Leon that she was in trouble with Umbrella and had to go into hiding for a while. She told him to contact Chris and let him know that she was otherwise fine and that he didn’t need to worry. If anyone could find Chris, it was Leon. She probably should have left this task to him in the first place; then she wouldn’t be stuck on an island in the middle of nowhere now. Leon had been skeptical, but fortunately, he hadn’t pressed the issue. He just told her to contact him immediately if she needed help.

Her story wasn’t even a lie; Claire was indeed hiding from Umbrella, disguised as Alfred’s maid. It wasn’t exactly her dream job, but she was grateful to have something to do. Before he officially hired her, she had spent most of the time cleaning Alfred’s mansion anyway. Now Claire was essentially doing the same thing, only she was getting paid for it. Surprisingly, the pay wasn’t too bad either.

Simply hiding in a building for an indefinite period of time would have been unbearable for Claire. And sooner or later, people would have started asking questions, because it was virtually impossible that no one would ever happen to see her through a window. It was particularly important that the people working for Umbrella would not become suspicious. Therefore, Alfred had come up with the idea of employing her as a maid. After some discussion, Claire had agreed. Fortunately, Chris couldn’t see her that way. Her brother would have laughed his ass off at the thought of Claire of all people running around in a maid’s uniform. That was so not her style.

However, the disguise was as simple as it was brilliant. No one found it strange that she was living with Alfred as his personal servant. He could take her anywhere without anyone caring. Even the Umbrella guys didn’t suspect that one of their fugitive prisoners was hiding right under their noses.

Nevertheless, they had taken a few precautions. Claire had dyed her hair black and been given a fake last name. Alfred had let her keep her first name, though. He had become too accustomed to it, he said.

Even though her work was providing some distraction from her dull everyday life, it was still hard for Claire. She had thought that she would be able to get through this time more easily, but now she wasn’t so sure anymore. She got along with Alfred for the most part, but she was slowly becoming concerned about her own mental health. She often felt lonely and isolated. Still, it could be worse than it is now. Alfred had given her some freedoms. In return, he only demanded that she abide by his rules. And she did.

Under normal circumstances, Claire wasn’t so submissive, but she had found that her life with Alfred was much more pleasant when she simply did what he asked of her. Furthermore, she was his guest. Not only did she live with him, but he also financed everything she needed. Food, drinks, everyday necessities, he had even bought her new clothes, and they were anything but cheap by her standards. A little gratitude toward her host was certainly appropriate. Claire wouldn’t like it either if guests in her house behaved disrespectfully and disregarded her rules. You don’t bite the hand that feeds you. And Claire didn’t want to lose the few concessions Alfred Ashford had made. Most importantly, however, she didn’t want to awaken the devil that lay dormant within this man.

The door at the end of the corridor opened, and one of the guards came by on one of his hourly rounds. As he passed, he nodded briefly to her. Claire returned the gesture and gave him a quick smile. However, the man did not respond and continued on his rounds without paying any further attention to her. A few seconds later, he had already disappeared through the opposite door.

Claire sighed. The lack of contact with other people was hard for her. At university, she was always surrounded by people, and at school she had many friends. Now Alfred was Claire’s only real attachment figure. She found it downright eerie how dependent she had become on this man, especially on an emotional level. She had seen him that morning, but she was already missing him and couldn’t wait to see him again.

Alfred Ashford was not a good person. He drank too much, was short-tempered, and prone to violence, though not toward her. But that wasn’t even the worst. Alfred was also a sadist and a serial killer. When Claire thought about it, he was pretty much the worst person she had ever met. And yet, she had to admit to herself that she liked Alfred, really liked him.

However, she couldn’t directly define their relationship. She was more than just Alfred’s roommate, though. In the evenings, Claire always kept him company, unless he wanted to be alone. Sometimes they would sit in the garden until the sun went down, sometimes Alfred would play something for her on the piano, sometimes they would watch movies together, and sometimes they would just talk for hours about all kinds of topics. Alfred especially liked to talk about his hobbies. Since Chris had been in the U.S. Air Force, the topics were not completely foreign to Claire. Yet, she wasn’t overly interested in things like weapons, war machines, and historic battles, but Alfred’s knowledge of them was impressive, and his enthusiasm was admittedly somewhat contagious. She enjoyed listening to him. Alfred became increasingly more interested in her as well. He often asked her about her interests and hobbies, or her life before she ended up on Rockfort Island.

Now that his broken ribs had healed more or less, she also had sex with him almost every day. Claire felt attracted to Alfred, not only physically, but she didn’t believe she was truly in love with him; rather, she hoped she wasn’t, and attributed her feelings to a sense of isolation. The man probably had more blood on his hands than the most notorious serial killers. She also hoped that Alfred wouldn’t interpret too much into their relationship, because a “no” was certainly not something he would accept so easily. At the moment, however, she had no intention of distancing herself from him. Something about this man fascinated her and drew her to him in a magical way. She sometimes felt as if she was Eve and he was both the serpent and the forbidden fruit. She simply couldn’t resist him.

And aside from that, she had no one else but Alfred. The only two other people Claire could talk to, although “talk” was almost an exaggeration, were Louis, a taciturn butler who brought Alfred his meals, and Maya, Claire’s supervisor. Louis was in his mid-40s, tall and gaunt with sunken pale grey eyes and a piercing gaze. He had brown hair and a long beard. Claire found him creepy, despite his well-groomed appearance. He reminded her of Rasputin. Claire also believed she had never seen him blink. The man never spoke to her more than necessary. His sentences usually consisted of single words, and when Claire said something that had nothing to do with food orders or Alfred’s instructions, he often did not respond at all.

Maya was only four years older than Claire, had dark blond hair, and a few freckles on her face. She seemed friendly, but Claire had never met anyone as emotionally cold as this woman. She had shrugged off the virus outbreak and the deaths of all those people in the attack two months ago. “It happens,” was all she had to say about it. Claire also found her rather creepy at times. Every now and then, Claire wondered if “being creepy” was a prerequisite for working for Alfred Ashford. Especially, Maya’s matter-of-fact lecture on how best to remove all kinds of bodily fluids from certain materials without leaving any traces had been slightly disturbing. Claire preferred not to think about why this woman was so knowledgeable about such things. At least she talked more than Louis, even if she only talked about work and sometimes about how great Alfred was.

As a supervisor, however, Claire still appreciated her, most of the time anyway. Maya always explained Claire’s tasks in great detail and patiently answered all her questions so that she could do everything right the first time. But when Claire made mistakes too often, even small ones, Maya was an extremely unpleasant person. She gave her long lectures about her lack of work ethic. Claire hated that. Something about the way Maya spoke made Claire feel bad for hours afterward.

Claire understood very well why Alfred had chosen these two as her contacts. Neither of them would ever surrender her to Umbrella, even if they suspected who Claire really was. Louis hardly ever spoke a word, and Maya seemed to be completely loyal to Alfred, almost like a real fan of his.

Otherwise, no one really talked to her. “Hello” and “Goodbye,” plus brief directions if she got lost in one of the large buildings, but that was it. Alfred said it was better that way. The fewer close contacts she had, the harder it would be to see through her disguise. Claire had to agree with him on that point. She wasn’t a particularly good liar, at least not in the long run, and sometimes tended to reveal a little too much about herself when she got along well with someone. The domestic staff were subordinated to Alfred, not Umbrella, but you never knew if someone might overhear something or accidentally let something slip.

Claire dipped the mop in the water one last time and wrung it out again. The hallway was finished and gleaming with a new shine. At the right angle, she could even see her reflection on the floor. She had done a good job. But a glance at the clock told her she was running late. Again. Mopping the floor on the ground floor had taken her much longer than she had thought, and she still hadn’t quite finished her tasks for the day. The building was simply too big. Her supervisor would probably give her another long lecture about how slow she was at her work.

Claire sighed and looked at the to-do list that Maya gave her earlier. Alfred’s office wasn’t checked off yet. The room wasn’t that big. She should be able to finish it fairly quickly. Claire wouldn’t be spared the lecture, but maybe it would at least be shorter than the last one. But first she had to put away the mop and bucket and get a vacuum cleaner for the carpet.

The room with the cleaning supplies was also on the ground floor, not far from her. Once there, she emptied her bucket and put everything away in its designated place. A quick glance at the cleaning equipment told her that the other maids must have already finished their work. She really had to hurry. Equipped with the vacuum cleaner and everything she needed for dusting, Claire made her way to Alfred’s office.

She had wanted to start in this room this morning, but Alfred had already been in there before her and didn’t want to be disturbed, so Claire had taken care of the rest of the building first. Now it was already late, well past Alfred’s regular working hours. To make sure he had already left, Claire knocked briefly. No answer. Assuming Alfred was probably already at home, she opened the door and entered the room. To her surprise, Alfred was still sitting in his office chair, staring at her morosely.

“Alfred. ... uh, I mean ... Lord Ashford.”

It always felt strange to address him like that after everything they had been through. When she wasn’t working, she always called him by his first name. But right now, her working hours weren’t over yet, and Claire was just his maid. As long as she was still on duty, Alfred treated her no differently than his other employees. He usually showed her the same indifference he showed them. Claire had no problem with that, since she wanted to keep things professional as well.

“I... I’m sorry. You didn’t say anything, so I came in. I thought you had already finished work. I...”

Alfred didn’t answer, just continued to stare at her with his cold, ice-blue eyes. Claire knew she had made a mistake. Even though she had nothing to fear from him, such things didn’t necessarily contribute to his mood, which hadn’t been particularly good in recent days anyway.

That didn’t surprise Claire. Umbrella’s people had now eliminated the zombies and B.O.W.s, and the disinfection of all areas had also been completed. But it had all taken longer than expected, and the other traces of the attack were still clearly visible throughout the entire facility. Alfred had been exceedingly busy coordinating the cleanup efforts and distributing the many tasks that needed to be done among far too few people.

Claire felt sorry for him. She knew how much Alfred did to keep everything running smoothly. At the same time, his mental state worried her; among other things, his “other half” had been manifesting herself more frequently lately. No matter how often Claire experienced this, it creeped her out every time. But “Alexia” was harmless. Alfred Ashford, on the other hand, was a ticking time bomb, even though he held back around her and always tried to be reasonably friendly. Claire knew what he was capable of. And she could do without seeing the devil ever again. The mere thought sent a shiver down her spine.

Claire swallowed her words and started again, “I’ll wait outside until you’re done. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your work.”

She bowed briefly, as she had been taught, and was about to leave when Alfred called her back.

“No. Wait. I see you’re late.” His gaze had softened somewhat. “Finish this up. Can you then take care of the dinner? Otherwise, it’ll drag on, too.”

Even though it was phrased as a question, Claire had learned that Alfred Ashford didn’t ask questions. It was just his way of giving her a friendly order.

“Yes. I’ll do it.”

Claire started dusting the coffee table in the middle of the room first. She hated it when someone watched her do this work and felt pressured because Alfred was not easily satisfied. This time, she really had to hurry, and she couldn’t make any mistakes.

“Why are you so late?” he asked without taking his eyes off his monitor.

“I wanted to start here early, but you were already there and busy. And … I was too slow again. Maya will be upset.” Claire smiled uneasily, hoping to get some sympathy from Alfred, but he only replied, “Then learn to work faster,” in an expressionless voice.

“... yes.”

Claire went back to her work and dusted the remaining surfaces. Finally, she tackled Alfred’s desk, taking great care not to mess up the documents spread out on it.

Standing so close to him, she couldn’t help but notice how exhausted he looked. Dark circles under his eyes showed that he hadn’t been sleeping much lately. Not only that, Alfred hadn’t even taken the time to dress up properly that morning. He usually paid close attention to his appearance. Now, however, several strands of hair hung in his face. He wasn’t wearing his uniform as usual either, but only a simple white shirt and dark blue pants. He had even dispensed with a tie. If she didn’t know better, Claire could mistake Alfred for a low-ranking office clerk.

“You look pretty exhausted,” she blurted out.

There was silence for a few seconds before Alfred replied, much more kindly than expected, “Maybe. There’s just so much to do. You can see for yourself what it still looks like here.” This was followed by a deep sigh.

“You should take it easier anyway. Your ribs have barely healed.” He didn’t answer.

Wesker had hit Alfred pretty hard that night, breaking six of his ribs, plus a few more that were cracked. Serial rib fractures with pleural effusion said the doctors. The doctors had even wanted to keep Alfred in the hospital for a while, but he didn’t want to leave the Umbrella facility and Claire unattended, so he discharged himself after the doctors took care of the essentials. Even after that, Alfred had often been quite careless with his injury. Claire was almost surprised at how well everything had healed despite that.

Claire couldn’t stand to see him like this. She wanted to at least try to give him some relief. Even if he didn’t accept it, an offer couldn’t hurt. Claire looked up from the desk, him straight in the eyes, and said, “If there’s anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Alfred didn’t respond at first and started typing something on his keyboard. Claire assumed that was the end of it, but then he said, “My shoulders are pretty tense. Can you massage them a little?”

“Sure.”

Claire could clearly feel the tension. A quick massage wouldn’t do much, but she could certainly give him a little relaxation. Alfred seemed to enjoy it and kept giving her instructions on which areas to work on next. A few minutes later, however, he stopped her.

“That’s enough. Thank you.” Alfred turned his office chair toward her to end the massage.

“As you wish. I can take another look at it at home if you want.”

Alfred nodded briefly at her offer. He made no move to return to his work. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on Claire. Claire stood where she was and looked at Alfred, waiting for another order, but he just stared at her without saying a word. An uncomfortable silence spread across the room.

Undecided whether she should go back to cleaning or whether Alfred had something else in mind, Claire finally asked, “Should I... do something else for you?”

Alfred grinned at her in response and replied, “I do have indeed another task for you. On your knees!”

Claire hesitated for a moment. Not that she minded, but she had to process Alfred’s audacity first. That wasn’t what she meant by her question. Claire had been thinking more along the lines of getting Alfred some tea, coffee, or something to eat. Ultimately, however, she did as she was told and knelt down.

“As you wish, Lord Ashford,” Claire replied as seductively as possible, biting her lower lip slightly.

She began to rub Alfred’s slowly hardening cock through the fabric of his pants while she unbuckled his belt. Alfred said nothing, just looked down at Claire with a sly grin. Claire returned it briefly, then leaned forward to plant a few kisses on the bulge. As she did so, she slowly unzipped his fly. After a few more strokes, she finally freed Alfred’s dick from his boxer shorts.

Claire had done this many times before. Before Alfred’s injury had healed, they had largely limited themselves to hand jobs and blow jobs, and Alfred had fingered her as a reward. Initially quite clumsy, Alfred had quickly learned and now knew exactly what she wanted. But this time it wasn’t about her.

Claire took his semi-erect member in her hand and licked it several times along its entire length, feeling his cock grow harder with each lick. One last time, then she paused with her tongue at the tip and began to circle it. Alfred sucked in a sharp breath as he felt her hot tongue against the sensitive flesh. His cock twitched slightly under her touch.

Claire felt her own arousal rising within her. She loved sucking Alfred’s cock, it made her so wet every time. This time would be no different. She wondered if she could finish without begging Alfred to take her right then and there.

A few droplets of precum appeared, and Claire licked them up greedily. She looked up at Alfred with a lascivious expression and began to suck on the tip. After a few more flicks with her tongue, she fully closed her lips around his throbbing member. Claire began to bop her head a few times to relax herself and gag a little, partly because of its size, but mainly because Alfred liked to see her gag a little.

Alfred’s breath came intermittently, but apart from that, he remained surprisingly calm. To make sure he liked what she was doing, she looked up and saw how hard he was trying not to moan. One hand over his mouth, he bit his index finger to stop himself. If her mouth hadn’t been full, she would have smirked. It was a little game between them. He tried to stay quiet as long as possible, and she tried to get him to let out some sounds. Alfred’s little challenge gave Claire an extra thrill. You won’t last long, Alfred.

Relaxed enough, Claire finally let his cock slide all the way down her throat. That had the desired effect. Once, twice, and Alfred let out a soft moan. She had won and loved hearing him like that. It turned her on. The tingling sensation she was feeling between her legs was almost painful.

Alfred suddenly shifted his weight. He didn’t want to accept defeat and grabbed her hair with so much force that several strands slipped out of her braid. He immediately began to direct Claire’s movements into the rhythm he wanted. She could hear him panting heavily. The speed and force with which he penetrated her throat were unpleasant, making her whimper and bringing a few tears to her eyes, but Claire knew how much Alfred was enjoying it, which was more than acceptable compensation.

The door suddenly flew open. Claire’s whole body tensed up. She wanted to see what had happened, but Alfred grabbed her roughly by the hair again and held her firmly in place. With his other hand, he signaled her to continue.

“Claire, aren’t you done yet? I told you...” Claire knew that voice all too well. It was her supervisor, Maya. For a moment, Claire wondered how Maya could know exactly where she was, then she remembered that she had left the vacuum cleaner next to the door. To get a better idea of what was going to happen next and to give herself a little break from Alfred’s rough treatment, she slowed down and concentrated more on pleasuring Alfred with her tongue.

“Lord Ashford. I-I’m sorry. Please forgive me, I didn’t mean to barge in like this,” Maya stammered. After a short pause, she continued, “I was looking for Claire, she’s late again and...”

Before she could finish her sentence, Alfred interrupted her, “Yes, I’m responsible for that. I … gave her an additional task to complete first.” Alfred looked down at Claire and petted her head a few times. “And I think she’ll be busy here for a while.”

Alfred didn’t seem to mind, but Claire was incredibly embarrassed. Sex in front of an audience wasn’t her thing, and she definitely didn’t want her supervisor to see her with Alfred’s cock in her mouth. Fortunately, the scene was obscured by the large desk. She was also grateful to Alfred for keeping himself under control so well. Apart from breathing a little heavier than usual, there was nothing noticeable about his behavior. However, Maya wasn’t stupid, and the overall situation left no doubt as to what was happening here. Maya probably thought now she was Alfred’s whore, if she hadn’t already.

“I-I understand.” Judging by her voice, Maya was also uncomfortable about having burst in at that particular moment.

“When she’s ready, I’ll send her to you,” Alfred told her.

“Yes. Thank you, Lord Ashford. And I apologize again for the disturbance.”

“It’s all right. But lock the door. I don’t want to be disturbed again.” Despite his words, Claire had the impression that Alfred found the situation extremely amusing. As soon as the door closed, Alfred put his hand back on her head and began moving her head up and down again. This time, however, much less violent than before.

“That’s enough. Come back up,” Alfred ended the blowjob a little later.

Somewhat surprised, Claire released Alfred’s cock from her mouth and looked at the blond man expectantly.

“I think you want to have some fun too, don’t you?” said Alfred, tilting his head. Claire opened her mouth to reply, but he continued without giving her time to answer, “Don’t look at me like that. I know you well enough to know.”

Claire slowly got to her feet, and Alfred stood up as well. As soon as they were standing, Alfred slid his hand under her skirt and between her legs. His fingers found their way into her underwear. Alfred immediately slid one finger inside her, then a second, and began to move them in and out, exploring her inner core. Claire was so wet that his finger could penetrate her with ease. Then Alfred began to circle his thumb around her clit as well.

Alfred’s caress was just what she needed. His touch sent pleasant shivers through her body and elicited lustful moans from her. Claire couldn’t hold back. She buried her face in his chest and gave herself completely to him, which Alfred seemed to enjoy.

“You need dry underwear, dear Claire.”

Even without Alfred’s remark, she knew how wet she was. Claire pressed her body a little closer against his and looked up at him. She wanted to look him in the eyes, and she wanted him to see the effect he had on her with every gentle moan she emitted.

Alfred smiled contentedly, then pressed his lips to hers and kissed her passionately. Claire didn’t resist and let him explore her mouth. The movements of his fingers made her moan again and again into his mouth. It felt so good. Claire hoped her legs wouldn’t give way beneath her. If he kept going like this, she would come right away. She was so close to her climax. But before that happened, Alfred let go of her.

“Hey,” Claire couldn’t hide her disappointment in her voice.

“Not yet. A little patience, my dear,” he said before licking his fingers with relish.

“You still have too many clothes on. Let’s change that first.”

As soon as he had finished the sentence, Alfred pulled down the top of her maid’s uniform and skillfully unhooked her bra. Then he took a moment to admire Claire’s breasts.

“Much better,” he said with a lustful grin.

He moved behind her, starting to play with her breasts with one hand while sliding the other between her legs again. Claire surrendered to his embrace, beguiled by her lust.

“Tell me what you want now, my dear,” he whispered in her ear.

At that moment, she wanted only one thing: “Fuck me.”

“You can do better than that. Try again,” Alfred whispered once more.

And so she tried again, even though her mind was too clouded by desire to think clearly, “Please fuck me, Lord Ashford. ... Please.”

Alfred shrugged. He was not entirely satisfied with the way she delivered her request, but he was likely too horny to care at the moment. He let go of her again. Then he pushed the papers on the desk aside before bending her over it. With a swift movement, he pulled down her panties. Without further ado, he rammed himself into her. The heavy desk shifted a little as he did so. If Claire hadn’t been so aroused, it would certainly have hurt, but at that moment, she felt nothing but pleasure. Neither the rough penetration nor the fact that she was pushed unprepared against the edge of the table bothered her.

Alfred’s next thrusts were less violent, but he immediately set a fast pace. He reached for her breasts again and began to massage them and play with her nipples until they became hard. His touch was electrifying and sent pleasant shivers down her spine once more.

Claire was so close. She had almost reached her climax before, and she was still too aroused to delay it. She could no longer hold back. Before she knew it, Claire felt her inner walls clench. She whimpered and panted as waves of ecstasy pulsed through her body. With each of his thrusts, she moaned with passion.

Unable to tense her muscles any further, she lay her head on the tabletop, breathing heavily. Her legs were weak, the table a welcome support. The world around her blurred for a moment as she let her orgasm subside. Claire closed her eyes to regain her composure and focused solely on Alfred, who continued unwavering. The heat that penetrated her and withdrew again. With each one of his movements, she could hear the wet sounds she was making.

Alfred grabbed her hips to put more power into his movements. His grip would leave some bruises, but she didn’t mind at the moment. She could hardly feel the pain. Only the relentless pumping and the desire with each of his thrusts mattered to her.

Alfred was close, his breathing heavy and ragged. He moaned loudly; the control he had had earlier was forgotten. Claire also felt herself approaching a second climax. A few more thrusts and Alfred filled her with his cum. His fingers dug into the bruised flesh of her hips as Alfred let out an animalistic grunt. While doing so, he altered the angle slightly and hit exactly the right spot. The sensation was too much for her and made her come again. This time it was less intense than the last, but it took longer for her orgasm to subside.

Out of breath, Claire remained lying on the table. Beads of sweat ran down her forehead and back. Alfred withdrew from her. Whereupon some viscous liquid leaked out of her and dripped down the inside of her thigh. She could hear him slumping into his office chair.

“Claire?” he gasped after a few seconds, trying to catch his breath.

“...Yes?” she replied briefly.

“You’re not done cleaning yet.”

She wanted to tell him how unnecessary that comment was, but she needed a few more seconds to catch her breath so she could speak in complete sentences.

“Start with me,” he ordered her briefly.

Claire pushed herself up and turned to the blond man sitting behind her. His legs were slightly spread, and his pants were still hanging around his ankles. He looked from Claire to his crotch and back to her again. Claire rolled her eyes slightly in annoyance. She understood immediately what he wanted, but his audacity surprised her once again. So much for professional behavior, although it was too late for that anyway, when she thought about it.

Claire slowly slid down to the floor by the table and crawled on all fours the short distance to Alfred. When she reached him, she leaned on his legs and began to lick the mixture of their juices from Alfred. A salty taste spread across her tongue as she licked every square centimeter of his still semi-erect cock, removing the last remnants. She liked the taste. As soon as she was done, Alfred roughly petted her head a few more times, messing up her hair even more.

“Good girl,” he said, “Now finish cleaning and don’t forget to go to Maya when you’re done here.”

With that, Alfred stood up, pulled his pants back on properly, and began sorting through the documents he had so hastily put away. Claire remained seated on the carpet for a moment, taking a few deep breaths before she also stood up and got dressed again. Her uniform had slipped and didn’t fit properly here and there. She would have liked to take it off completely and put it back on again, but she didn’t have time for that. And she didn’t know where Alfred had thrown her bra, so she left it off. It would turn up sooner or later.

A glance at the desk told her that she should turn her attention to it again before cleaning anything else, so she picked up the small water bucket and rag to remove the last traces of her additional task.

Claire stood outside Maya’s office door, ready to hear that she had been far too slow again and probably also some comments about how she looked. Her whole appearance was still a mess, and her hips hurt. She had tied her hair back into a ponytail, but individual black strands still stuck out. Her maid’s uniform was still ill-fitting in many places, and her bra remained missing. Her skin felt uncomfortably sticky. She desperately needed a shower. But if she had taken care of that first, she would be even later now. Claire took a deep breath before knocking.

“Yes,” Maya’s voice sounded without delay. Claire opened the door slowly and found her supervisor sitting at her desk, preparing the plans for the next few days.

“Claire, you’re done for today, yes?” Maya said in a neutral tone.

Claire had expected her to be angrier and to start lecturing her about her work ethic as soon as she opened the door. Now Claire stood in the doorway, somewhat perplexed. Maya inspected Claire for a moment, probably judging how she looked, and waited for an answer.

When nothing came except a brief nod, she finally asked, “Was he satisfied with your performance?”

The question surprised Claire so much that she opened her eyes wide. She didn’t quite know how to answer it, and besides, the subject was a little too private for her.

“What?” was all she could manage to say, utterly ashamed.

“Lord Ashford. Was he satisfied with your performance?” Maya asked again calmly.

Several seconds passed as Claire tried to find the right words, but all that came out of her mouth was stuttering, “Well, um, yes, ... uh, yes, I think so?”

Claire felt herself blushing. Her face was probably bright red right now. Her and Alfred’s relationship was none of Maya’s business, and Claire hoped this embarrassment would end soon, but at the same time, she didn’t want to be rude. So Claire stayed quiet. She couldn’t afford to insult Maya in her position.

“Very good. Lord Ashford’s satisfaction is our top priority,” she added a little more quietly after a short pause, “He’s not usually like that. You should consider yourself lucky.”

For a moment, Maya leaned back contentedly in her office chair and gave Claire a fleeting nod. Claire smiled awkwardly in return. Then Maya looked back down at her plans, searching for the place where she had left off.

“Anything else?” she asked without looking up again.

“No...”

“See you tomorrow, then.”

Claire turned around slowly, still embarrassed, and left, forgetting to say goodbye. It had been one of the most embarrassing conversations of her life, but as embarrassing as it was, at least she hadn’t had to listen to Maya telling her again that she needed to learn to work faster, and Maya had even praised her. However, Claire wished she hadn’t received praise from her supervisor for that particular thing. And yet, maybe Claire should ask Alfred for “additional tasks” more often from now on when she is running late. That would make things much more pleasant, and not only for her.