The door bell rang as I was pouring the last pot of hot water into the tub. Setting the pot aside I placed out a washing cloth, drying towel and a bar of our mildest perfumed soap before moving to answer the door.
Passing the clock in the foyer I noted that she was precisely on time, as always. Twice monthly on the fourteenth and twenty-eighth of every month, for almost five years now.
Opening the door she sashayed into the room, the hems of her dress almost, but not quite touching the floor as she moved. In the center of the large braided rug, she paused, waiting as I closed and latched the door.
"Mr. Wilson," she said, raising an eyebrow in question.
"Mistress Micah," I replied and nodded to her unspoken question. She'd been caught unawares once by an unexpected house guest, and had no desire to repeat the incident.
Understanding that there were none present who shouldn't be, she removed her spring cape and under shawl handing them to me... As usual, she was wearing only her whalebone from the waist up. Her large breasts were visible, supported from below by the corset. Reaching beneath her waistband she removed the tie cords holding her skirt in place and freed it, the skirt and bustle falling away as one. (The bustle was simply a rag stuffed sachet sewn to the inside of the skirt itself.) She was now wearing only her whalebone and pantaloons.
Leading her into the hallway, I placed the clothing onto a side table before proceeding to the kitchen. The woman followed me neither of us speaking to the other. Seeing the steaming tub in the rooms center she smiled and bent to unbutton her shoes and release the ties on her pantaloons. In moments she was clothed only in her stays. Her firm high ass and slightly rounded lower belly fully in view. The hair on her legs, under her arms and surrounding her nethers trimmed so closely as to be practically invisible against her ebon skin.
Filling a bucket with water and placing it on a sideboard I stood by and watched as she cleaned all of her exposed parts. She asked not for privacy as she knew she'd receive none for this. I'd allowed her privacy only once, and she'd tried to do without the cleaning. She'd been caught and had never been trusted alone for this again. She'd also never tried skipping it again, even though (like so many in our time) she was afraid over cleaning would lead to illnesses.
Once cleaned and dried she moved to a chair and raised one leg waiting. Taking the leavings pot from the stove, I took a small amount on two fingers and smeared it in liberally, preparing her. Looking into her eyes I raised an eyebrow as I returned my fingers to the pot.
"Is that really going to be needed Mr. Wilson?" she asked.
"I know not. But would you rather be not prepared for it if it is?"
She turned and bent to grasp the chairs seat as I prepared her other entry. Once done, she followed as I led her to the Master bedroom and opened the door.
"Mistress Micah is here, Admiral," I announced following her into the room.
"Good. Good. That will be all Wilson."
"Very good Admiral. Your bath is prepared in the kitchen when you are done, sir." I stayed for an extra moment to lay back the bed clothing as the Admiral appeared from his study wearing house robe and slippers.
Having returned to the kitchen, I sat at my desk to make the correct journal entries and prepare Mistress Micah's pay pouch. I tried not to listen to the noises coming from the speaker tubes next to my stool. Due to the Admiral's advancing senility they were left open at all times now so this was difficult to do.
"So what'll it be today, Your Lordship? Will you be wanting your pipes played, or do you wish to get right to the ships docking?"
.... There is more of this story ...