The Summer of Leah
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2019 by Taoman

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 1 - This is a complete rewrite of Lisa, My Uncle's Maid. The characters and plot have been so changed that I decided to re-post it as new story. The heroine's name change reflects her new ethnicity. The first chapter has no sex. In later chapters there will be much sex. The story takes place in the fifties. A young man is asked by his uncle to stay at his New York City townhouse during his absence. The young protagonist finds the beautiful Leah is a reluctant part of the living arrangements.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   Coercion   Consensual   Reluctant   Heterosexual   Fiction   DomSub   MaleDom   Anal Sex   Exhibitionism   Oral Sex  

In my family, my uncle had always been an enigma. I was told during the Depression, while still a teenager, he had left home and “went on his own”. His rare reappearances, at family funerals and my parent’s marriage were always unexpected. In the pictures of my parents’ wedding, he was fashionably dressed and looked very aristocratic. It was at my mother’s funeral, his sister, that I had first met him. I was eighteen then and with her death I was all that remained of his immediate family. He questioned me regarding my academic status and he had knowledge of my accomplishments in sports. He approved of my plans to pursue a career in business. I had told him I had applied to several schools including Harvard. He informed me of some connections in Cambridge and that he could “make some calls” to possibly speed the process.

Several weeks later I received my acceptance letter from Harvard. He called to congratulate me and said he would provide an allowance while I was at school. My uncle said it was to be for my mother’s memory. This generous income ensured I never lacked for money during the school years. I didn’t see him at the graduation. But, later at the fraternity I found keys to a late-model sports car, clipped to his card in my mailbox. My new car was parked in the street.

I called and profusely thanked him. He laughed and told me to come visit him in New York City. He said he needed to go overseas for a period of time and needed someone to oversee his townhouse. I agreed as I had not made any concrete summer plans. I had a great deal of curiosity regarding my uncle’s life.

It was 1955 and a New England brisk Spring morning. The warm sun hinted at the approaching Summer. Driving south from Boston to New York City I couldn’t resist having the top down. I pushed the new Mercedes 190SEL to the southbound highway’s limits.

Both my parents had been casualties of the war. First, my father had been lost in one of the first B-24 bombing runs over Germany. His body was never recovered. My mother mourned herself to the grave. Her grief was so profound that her will to go on slipped away after the war years. She had been unable to cope in a world without my dad. I had come home from school and found her curled in her bed. I thought she was sleeping until I touched her cold arm. Then I noticed the empty pill bottle on the floor.

There were no sad memories to dwell on today. This spring day was full of endless promise. New vistas were just over the horizon.

It was mid-afternoon when I reached the city and it took another hour to locate the address. It was on a corner in the Upper East Side. The building itself was a brick four story that blended in with the other adjoining structures on the block. The small brass plate on the door read THE MANHATTAN CLUB and then below in smaller print, A GENTLEMEN’S SOCIETY.

I knocked on the the door. A small slot slid open at eye level and two eyes peered out. I held up my uncle’s card. The door opened and the largest man I had ever seen opened the door. The fitted tuxedo he wore didn’t match his fight-battered head. He had cauliflower ears and a nose which had been flattened to his face. He smiled revealing a gap in his front teeth. “Come in. Come in. We “wuz ‘spectin youse” he said with a deep rasp.

He led me across the small lobby and unlocked a inner door.”Dis” room “wuz” built during “probisson”” he informed me.

I entered a dimly lit vast open space. Rows of dimly lit crystal chandeliers receded into the depths of the room. Faint atolls of light showed tables and chairs, A dark carved wood bar was to my right. There was a low murmur of voices. I inhaled an aromatic mixture of tobacco smoke and aged leather. The faint snick of a billiard ball broke the quiet stillness.

I walked across the room to the bar. Several well-dressed men at the corner of the bar acknowledged me. One lifted a glass. I nodded back. I was conscious of my garish Hawaiian shirt which hung loose over my worn khakis. I wished I had worn my suit.

The bartender leaned over the bar and smiled, “The Prince has finally arrived!” He reached under the bar and pressed a release.

“There you go Sir. Take that lift straight up” A door sized panel had opened in the wall past the end of the bar.

He motioned for me to proceed, “You’re expected.”

The elevator rose and I counted three floors. The doors slid open to a tiled foyer. A white haired, distinguished butler was waiting. “Master Jeremy how good to meet you. My name is Jameson,” He was very British. He held out his hand and I shook it.

“Your uncle is occupied at the moment. He has asked me to make you comfortable,” The butler led me to what he called the sitting room.

It reminded me of a high class lobby of a hotel. Sunlit bay windows lined the wall. Plush furniture had been arranged around the deep plush carpeted room. There was a huge television set at the far end of the room. I walked to a bay window and looked out at Central Park.

“Can I get you a refreshment Sir?” Jameson asked.

I turned to him and said black coffee would be fine. He returned with a cup and saucer on a silver tray. I sipped at the coffee and watched the traffic below as the sun set over the city.

Jameson returned announcing. “The master will see you now Sir,”

Jameson led me across the hallway to a richly furnished room. The room was dominated by a massive stone fireplace. Bookcases lined the other paneled walls.

My uncle was seated in a leather chair by the hearth. He rose to greet me. We hugged and he warmly expressed how good it was to see me. He was pleased with my accomplishments. He said he knew my parents would have been proud of me.

We sat by the fire, drank fine whiskey and talked for several hours. We discussed the last war, my parents, Harvard and the impending cold war. I was fascinated to hear another worldview, which was diametrically opposed to what I had read in the paper. He refilled our glasses and told me he needed help from me. He had pressing business in Hong Kong. He needed me to stay at the townhouse and oversee his domestic concerns. I modestly told him I had little actual business acumen, but he waved my protestations aside. He told me it was all very simple. He smiled and said I would find my stay rewarding.

He began telling some of his history. He said at the end of the war he had been with an Allied Forces advanced recon team that had been the first to enter Buchenwald, the notorious Nazi concentration camp.

He rose and used a poker to stir the burning logs.

“While searching the SS Officers’ quarters I came across a young girl, chained by the ankle, in the commandant’s bedroom. She was one of the prettiest children I have ever seen. She, along with her family, had been deported from Italy. They were Jewish you see,” he said turning to look at me.

“Her family were dead by that time, along with hundreds of thousands of others,” he added soberly. “Evidently the camp’s oberfuhrer had been taken with her extraordinary beauty and had pulled her from a group of girl prisoners. She was only nine,” he added.

“He kept her safe and unabused in his compartments for nearly a year. He probably had plans to groom her as a future mistress,” he mused.

He sat down.

“I used my various connections and got her out of Europe and brought her back here to the States. The situation in Italy was utter chaos at that time. Since then I have had reputable sources look for any family left there. She is most definitely an orphan. She has lived with me in this house these past years,” he said.

“Her war experiences left her traumatized. I have had one the best psychologists in the city here to treat her. She no longer suffers from nightmares. But, we were unable to cure her anxiety regarding leaving this building. It has become a safe refuge for her. Crowds of unfamiliar faces and the loud noises of the city panic her.” He said.

“It has been very important to me that she would get the best of culture and education,’ he stated.

“I have had private tutors come here. She has been educated to a college scholar’s standing,” he said proudly.

He paused in thought

“She has a uncommonly brilliant mind,” he added.

“Now Jeremy what I have to say now may offend your modern sensibilities,” he sat back in the chair and looked at the fire.

“I am a man of particular old world tastes. I don’t belong in this modern age. I believe that if a man has the power to rule his world than he should do it by all means. To rule with all the fierceness and will he possesses,” his voice rose and had grown passionate.

He turned to look at me, “I had her come to my bed when she was thirteen.”

He watched my face and when I didn’t react he sat back.

“You know it wasn’t until the past few centuries that a girl her age wasn’t considered marriageable in most civilized cultures. I bear no remorse or guilt for my actions.”

I had been silently taken aback at his words. I hadn’t imagined my beloved uncle as a man capable of a molesting a child. I decided to listen more and withhold my judgment.

“Along with her formal education, I have also had her trained in ways society wouldn’t approve. I have had specialized teachers to come here and educate her in special skills.

“She completely belongs to me, Jeremy. Understand me when I say belong. I mean own as a possession,” he said flatly.

“She has been trained to serve me and bring me pleasure,”

“She understands and accepts this relationship.”

He paused.”Well until recently. She turned seventeen this year and has become rebellious. It is maddening, but she can also be exhilarating,” he smiled.

He looked at the now empty decanter on the table between us.

“Let me introduce you to Leah,” he said.

Next to his chair a tasseled cord dangled from the ceiling. He reached over and pulled it. I heard a faint bell.

“One for Leah. Two for Jameson” he informed me.

I heard a distant chime. Minutes passed and no one came.

“Leah has been apprehensive since she heard of your arrival,” my uncle commented.

He leaned forward to the coffee table at our feet. He used a key to unlock a cabinet under the top.

He raised his voice, directing it toward a closed side door. “I do have another way to fetch her”.

“No!” A female voice protested from behind the closed door.

My uncle shook his head. “I apologize. She is not happy with my new choice of dress for her introduction to you. She felt she should dress formally. I maintained she would dress in a manner reflecting her position. I recently had to implement a crude means of enforcing my expectations”.

He fully opened the cabinet door and motioned for me to come closer. I leaned forward in my chair. Hidden within was a blinking electronic apparatus.

“This equipment was made for me by a former German scientist now working for the US government rocket program. He felt he owed me his life,” my uncle added.

He flicked a toggle switch and there was an immediate electronic hum, the panel glowed and several glass enclosed needles pegged across clock-like dials then settled at different readings.

“This controls the amount of voltage,” he instructed. He turned a large knurled knob and the hum changed tone as the meter’s needles flicked across the dials.

“This entire building is enclosed in an electronic field,” he waved his hand around.

I was puzzled by where this was all going, but I nodded as if I understood.

“This button releases the shock. This is low level,” he said simply as he pressed a red button.

Immediately there was a high-pitched squeal from the other room.

“Leah, come ... now” my uncle said sternly.

I was taken aback by the appearance of a beautiful young woman emerging from the hall. Her dark green eyes glared angrily at my uncle as she vigorously crossed the floor to stand before us. I just gawked. She was the most stunning girl I had ever seen.

She was dressed in a classic French maid’s uniform tailored to her body and my uncle’s tastes. The uniform was cut in a fashion that any housekeeping duties beyond the bedroom impossible. The tightly laced and ribbed corset amply displayed her large youthfully firm breasts. The frilly lace decollete across the deep cleavage only just covered the brown of her aureoles. Lacy garters attached to her black fishnet stockings were visible at the hem of her very short silk skirt. In her high heels she stood at about five feet, four inches.

She had the smooth olive complexion of the Mediterranean. The incongruity of the thick leather collar on her neck stuck me immediately. It was out of place with her fine features and the thick mane of dark curly hair falling about her shoulders.

She stood with defiance under my frank appraisal. She had attempted to tug her skirt down. It had ridden up her thighs as she flew into the room. She only succeeded in pulling the small uniform down to reveal more of her bosom. She stood before us with hands clenched at her sides. Her green eyes smoldered.

“That collar you see delivers a sharp shock,” My uncle pointed to her neck.

“Leah, this is Jeremy,” My uncle spoke in a mannered tone. “He is to be the master of the house while I am away.”

Leah glared at my uncle. She shook the thick mass of curls slowly in a negative way.

“Leah ... recall our earlier discussion,” My uncle stated firmly.

The two exchanged eye signals. She broke her eyes from him and looked at the floor. Shaking her head she took a deep breath. She turned in my direction and carefully bent one knee. She inclined her head and upper body toward me.

“Welcome. Sir,” she said slowly, separating the words. I could discern a slight hint of the Mediterranean in her voice.

I started to reply, but my uncle held up his hand. “Leah has been taught the proper way for a servant girl to greet men guests. But I am afraid we so rarely have company. She forgets her lessons. I shall have to remind her as she has been warned,” he said causally.

He reached down to the cabinet.

“No!” she said sharply.

She looked at him in exasperation. She then slowly lowered herself to her knees before me. She did this in a tightly controlled manner, so as to not spill out of the uniform. As she knelt I was awarded a lovely glimpse of slender upper thigh as her short skirt rose. I looked down at her. Her eyes were lowered.

She grasped her hands in her lap.

Large green eyes came up to mine. She fully acknowledged me.

“Welcome, Master Jeremy” she said properly. “How may this girl serve you?”

My mind whirled and I had no immediate reply.

My uncle instructed her to refill the brandy decanter.

Again she modestly attempted to minimize the display of her lush figure as she placed her hands to the floor, shifted her legs and arose at an angle. The short uniform defeated her efforts.

I watched her walk across the room to the bar. She had a lovely backside. The elevated heels caused her hips to roll in an unavoidably provocative fashion. She repeatedly tugged at the short skirt.

“It is impossible for her to remove the collar without the key, which is locked away, of course. Hopefully, in my absence you will not need to shock her. But use it without qualm if Leah is disobedient. She will respond immediately,” my uncle observed.

Leah came back to stand before us with the decanter on a tray. She stared above us. Her face was fiery. Having my uncle talk about her as if she was not there was humiliating.

“Leah you will do this as you have been trained” my uncle spoke sharply.

The lovely girl paused to collect her temper. She closed her eyes. She exhaled and bent forward from her waist presenting the tray to me. Her position caused her breasts to strain outward and nearly spill from the top of the uniform. The full cleavage was presented as an offering above the tray. She was close enough I could smell her light perfume. I recognized this act was designed to be a tempting presentation of her. I considered myself a consummate gentleman and refrained from gawking. Despite this, as I grasped the decanter I impulsively and boorishly brushed my fingers across the smooth olive skin of a proffered breast.

She inhaled slightly at my overly-familiar touch and her eyes came up to mine. Our eyes locked. She was silently outraged. I took the decanter and poured whiskey in my glass.

As I returned the decanter I again stroked her breast. She closed her eyes and endured it.

She did not look up. Bowing she stepped back from me.

I swirled the whiskey about the glass. I tasted it. “Exquisite,” I said looking at her.

She gave me a quick venomous glance as she turned to my uncle. She performed the same serving maneuver for him. Her position caused her skirt to rise over her bottom revealing the full length of her legs, garters and tiny lace panties.

“Exquisite,” I repeated watching the display.

As Leah rose from serving him, my uncle told her to get her pillow. She went to a side boy and took out a small tousled frilly pillow. She carried it to the floor by his feet. With another unfriendly peek at me, she lowered herself demurely to her knees. She folded her hands in her lap and rested primly on her heels. She stared up at my uncle plainly ignoring me.

My uncle and I continued to talk. I was reconsidering my opinion of him after tonight’s events. I guessed his age as in his late forties. He was tanned, lean and looked vigorously fit. He was very serious man. Leah was a stunning creature and I could understand his desire to posses her. Any man would. I decided I would not judge him.

I had attempted to turn our talk toward the mysteries of his life. He was not forthcoming in this regard, but adroitly dodged my queries. The conversation invariably returned to me. I was being interviewed.

We discussed my parents. When relating a childhood memory of my mother, he noticed his fond recollection was causing me grief. There was a pause and we both sat and stared at the fire. He was politely silent as he packed his pipe. I composed myself.

He said. “I loved her also Jeremy”.

“Would you like to have a smoke, Jeremy?” he asked, changing the subject.

He turned to Leah and told her to bring the cigar humidor. She rose demurely.

She carried the heavy wood canister to him, my uncle waved his hand to serve me. She came before me and again bent forward to expose her full bosom. She lifted the hinged lid to rest between her breasts revealing an array of cigars.

“Cigar, Master Jeremy?” she murmured.

I picked a large Cuban make I recognized as an Upmann. I rotated the leaf-wrapped cigar at a loss to how to prepare it. My uncle spoke. “She will do it for you Jeremy,” he said encouragingly.

I shrugged and held it out to her. She set down the humidor and took the cigar. Using a knife she expertly cut off an end. Holding the cigar to her mouth she rolled it between her pursed lips to smooth the rough edges. Then in a very businesslike manner, she extended her tongue around the tip. I had a sudden image of that tongue and full lips performing fellatio in the same manner. I inadvertently smiled. She saw my face. I had an intuition she knew exactly what I was thinking.

My uncle spoke. “She is well trained in all her duties,” he said using an old Zippo lighter to re-lite his pipe.

I turned to see if he was implying a deeper subtext, but his expression was deadpan as he sat back in his chair. He blew out a cloud of smoke.

She used her fingernail to strike a wooden match. She let the match burn below the sulfur and lit the cigar. She drew on it, developing a perfect cherry glow on the tip. She exhaled away from me. Her eyes came up to mine and locked for a long moment of frank consideration. She bowed, offering the cigar to me. I took it from her fingers.

She carried the humidor back to the shelf. She returned to kneel at my uncle’s side. He laid a hand possessively on her head and gently ran his fingers through her curls.

“Before this evening ends we need to discuss Leah,” he announced. He brushed the hair back from the side of her face. She regarded him.

“I want you to interact with Leah. She has been shut up in this penthouse for too many years. I want her to be with a man her own age.

“Also in return, Jeremy, I want you to benefit from this time. I want you to understand the control of a woman. The ability to master a female needs to be learned. It is what makes a real man. This 20th world has few models to emulate,” he added as an afterthought.

“I want you to learn your own destiny. The template is here.” He indicated Leah and the whole room.

“Perhaps you lack the strength, will or desire, we shall see. But I want you to taste true power. If you find it doesn’t fit you. Than we will both know.

“Now in regards to Leah. I have instructed her in my absence to obey you as she does me. You are the master of this house. You may find the practical application of this may be a challenge. I will leave you to your own wits and devices in the matter.”

He smiled as he turned to her. “I think initially you will find Leah’s temperament daunting, but I have discovered that in the deepest core of her soul she yearns to be conquered.”

Leah was visibly agitated as my uncle discussed her this way. She restrained herself. Bowing her head she stared at the floor.

My uncle lifted her chin so they were eye to eye. “Leah, I will repeat this once more so there is absolutely no misunderstanding. Jeremy is the master of the house in all matters while I am away. You will serve him and you will obey his command. You understand and accept this?”

There was a pause as the two stared at each other. She nodded.

“Now tell Jeremy you understand,” he told her. He used his hand to turn her chin gently towards me.

She would not meet my eye.

“I will obey you.” She whispered looking above my head.

I had drunk more whiskey than I was accustomed too. It was astonishing I was being given this very beautiful desirable girl. Perhaps because of the drink I was readily accepting this confounding proposition. Perhaps it was I wanted Leah the moment I first saw her, sober or not.

“Now that this is settled, one last thing,” My uncle rose and went to a bookcase. He reached behind a shelf and pulled a release. A section of the bookcase slid forward and opened.

He flicked a light switch and beckoned for me to see.

I stood and followed him into the next room.

“During prohibition this room was used to hide barrels of whiskey,” he commented as we entered.

It was a small windowless brick-walled room. There was a waist high, iron cage centered on the floor. An array of leather paddles and various sized whips hung on the wall.

My uncle taped his pipe stem on the iron cage.

“Leah has spent time in this. I find it helps her to meditate on proper obedience in periods of rebelliousness.” he commented.

He took a bullwhip from the wall. Whirling his hand over his head he made the whip crack like the retort of a pistol.

I looked through the open door. Leah was watching us from the other room.

“She has a tolerance for pain. If she needs punished, do it. However I would start with discernment until you can judge and apply proper employment of the tools here. She is too exquisitely precious to damage permanently.

“If she does anger you. Before you use a whip or paddle let her dangle in these a bit,” He clutched a chained manacle hanging from the ceiling and shook it.

“Take a few breathes, enjoy her restraint and fear of being punished. Then show her whom her Master is.”

He shifted his focus to look at her in the other room. She had turned away.

“I have a long day of travel tomorrow” he said.

We walked back into the study. He took Leah’s hand and she rose to her feet.

“Leah and I shall now retire. Pull the cord twice and Jameson will come and guide you you to the guest quarters. He has already had your car parked in the garage and your suitcase brought up”

He looked at my shirt and pants. “First thing tomorrow I want you go to my tailor”

He led Leah by the hand from the room. She didn’t look my way.

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