Conquering Anne

Dedicated to and Inspired by Marigold

The Beginning

Anne had contacted me about taking care of my home in the Marylebone neighborhood of London. I'd posted the opening on Craigslist and was promptly swamped with email resumes and text messages. Anne stood out from the crowd when she took the time to find my address and have a courier drop off an envelope for me.

The envelope was of old fashioned parchment. At first I suspected the gloriously beautiful Spencerian script that adorned the envelope was computer generated but then when I looked closely I saw the flourishes and embellishments of a truly gifted calligrapher. The letter within the envelope furthered my interest as the language was florid, elegantly simple, and again written by hand in old fashioned Spencerian script. The borders of the letter featured a veritable work of art with hand drawn vines and leaves and flowers.

Anne's letter was written in a graceful and colorful narrative that I soon realized was her way of illustrating her resume. Instead of droll reports of past jobs she instead itemized each of her important postings with a captivating detail of her experiences and the occasional anecdote about the post even if it was a simple babysitting job.

Regardless if I was to hire her I had to meet her just to see the kind of person who would go about an employment inquiry in such a very proper English way!

I called her and suggested to meet. She chose a lovely sidewalk tea room in King's Cross and I admired her taste. The place was a pleasant mix of old fashioned and the modern yet also understated and demure. I suspected the same of Anne.

And I was not at all disappointed when I met her! She came to the interview wearing a simple enough dress that made her look like a very proper English girl yet the bodice was made of that material that's employed for modern tube tops.

What really set it all off was a choker that matched her dress! It's such an insignificant detail yet with Anne it was a very significant statement that she was detail oriented and that she cared most deeply about how she was perceived.

"You must be Anne!" I said as a means of introduction.

She stood and smiled and held out her hand. I took it and was instantly amazed by her softness and her warmth.

"Yes, sir, and I am at your service!"

She sat down and I followed her lead.

We spoke at length and I asked about her old fashioned countenance.

"Sir, I've long believed that a proper lady, if she is to be called a lady, must present herself as a lady at all times. I've endeavored to apply myself in the arts of keeping a house, proper etiquette, penmanship, sewing, and a few other domestic arts that are unfortunately lost to the current time."

I had to challenge her and I gestured at her dress. "For one so proper why do you wear such a dress and without a brassiere?"

She pursed her lips. "First, I should correct you in that this is not a proper question but I will entertain you this time. My preferred era for fashions is the late Edwardian period and this dress is quite proper by those standards. I also do not wear a brassiere because such things came into vogue only after the Second World War."

I stood corrected! Naturally I hired the girl.

I expected her to move into the house forthwith to allow me to pursue a matter of business at home in the United States. She explained this would not be a problem as she had moved from York to London following a difficult estrangement from her family. Her current domicile was a dreadful flat she shared with several other college age women in Islington so I expected the move to my home to be most welcome.

It was the next afternoon when Anne rang my door and I let her in. Her eyes were wide with astonishment at my classic home. She'd fit right in and she knew it.

She looked a bit like something from a BBC costume drama with her khaki dress, proper hat, and matching umbrella.

She arrived with two suitcases and a garment bag and these few meager possessions were everything she owned in the world. I led her up the stairs to her suite on the second floor and told her to settle in before joining me in the parlor for tea.

When she joined me for tea I stood as she entered the room and expected her to react to the gesture yet she acted as if I was supposed to do so! I was going to say something about that but then I noticed the simple peasant dress she was now wearing. It was a light blue and her brunette hair and dark eyes were all the more enhanced by the contrast. It was off the shoulder and her bosom was amply yet modestly displayed.

The obligatory pleasantries were exchanged and then Anne served the tea. I hadn't expected the young lady to do so but then I suppose where she was not a guest it was in her mind the proper thing to do.

"Your house is lovely! Do you know much of it's origins?"

I appreciated her indirect flattery. "Yes, the home was one of the original homes built in the era of the Adams brothers. As best I can tell it was constructed about 1778 and we ascertained that from the coins that we found when we excavated the cellar a few years ago."

See, in London you can't build your house any higher than it had been but for a while you could excavate the basement. Like so many of my neighbors I went a bit daft and had two floors of living space constructed beneath the ground floor. Unlike the original portion of the house that was zealously maintained as original as is practicable I indulged myself and made the two subfloors quite modern. There were also a few, shall we say 'personal' touches to the two subfloors.

When we'd finished with our repast I showed Anne the three floors of the original home and she took the time to ask me about many of the details. She remarked how so much of it appeared original yet things that should have been made of English walnut were instead made of American walnut and she knew the difference.

I explained to her that the family that had owned the house prior to myself had progressively updated the home over the years and that each update had incrementally removed much of the original charm of the home. I'd spent a lavish amount of money restoring the home to an appearance of 1778 while tastefully incorporating modern accoutrement such as electrical outlets, lighting, a television, and a modern kitchen.

Then I led her to a bookcase in the library and had her pull what appeared to be a copy of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. The book was actually a cleverly made door latch and when Anne pulled upon it the bookcase revealed itself to be a hidden door and it swung open onto a proper yet very modern stairway. Anne spoke her approval and then followed me as we descended into the darkness.

At the stairway's first landing the motion detectors saw us and the lights slowly came on. This was my idea to have the lights come on slowly so as not to dazzle the eyes and then after they had risen to about seventy per cent of their brightness they'd dim to a comfortable sixty per cent of their brightness. The effect was that of a permanent evening in the two subfloors.

I showed her my entertainment room with its wall sized modern television and sound system, we stopped at the bar and I made myself a drink. I offered one to Anne and she declined citing her age. I nodded my acceptance and we continued on.

The bedroom suite on the first subfloor was very masculine. It was detailed in hardwoods that had been repurposed from the home's original oak beams and teak floors. Anne took notice of the metal bed frame which was again modern in design with some flourishes that not everyone would have immediately noticed.

She touched one of the several tie-down fittings that was welded onto the side of the bed and she looked at me. "May I ask what purpose these fixtures serve or are they merely decorative?"

I smiled at her. "They're functional and they also serve an aesthetic purpose."

Anne looked at me quizzically and we moved on. Taking her down to the second sublevel I showed her the sauna, the hot tub, and the heated pool.

"You have an underground POOL? That's summat!"

I loved how her veneer of proper English lady briefly faded to reveal her common Yorkshire origins.

She immediately composed herself and continued, "Why would you bother with an underground swimming pool?"

I looked down at the floor and then looked back at her. "Because down here I can swim naked if I so desire. Where up above can you do so?"

She nodded with an unexpected understanding.

The tour concluded and we made our way upstairs.

Anne surprised me by insisting on making dinner for me and I accepted her offer. I keep a well stocked pantry and the girl had no problem finding what she needed.

About an hour later she treated me to a wonderful Cottage Pie followed by a very light vanilla pudding she had made from scratch. Quite impressive.

We spoke for a while after dinner and then I retired for the night intending to get an early start for Heathrow and my flight to the States.

Come the morning I arose to the scent of freshly baked scones and I also noticed she had a pot of coffee ready for me. I had expected tea but was impressed that she had already discovered my preference for coffee.

When I entered the kitchen I hadn't expected to find Anne waiting for me in a dressing gown yet there she was. Her feet were bare and her hair was still tousled from sleep. The dressing gown opened at the front and there was the barest hint of cleavage as it slightly opened.

I realized that the girl had captivated me.

We shared small talk and I enjoyed the light breakfast she had so thoughtfully prepared. I also wondered at what was under that dressing gown.

All too soon the cab arrived to take me to the airport and off I went.

The flight itself was uneventful and I easily switched planes at Atlanta. All the way across the Atlantic my mind kept drifting back to the proper English lady who was now living in my home.

Business in Los Angeles was typical. It was loud, the people were proud of being rude, the city was hot and polluted, but most of all everyone was in a rush and not getting anywhere. It made me miss the early 20th Century.

I was four days into a complex transaction that was supposed to take five months when the funding from Commerzbank fell through. The deal was dead and even though it meant I'd miss out on near eighty million Euros in profits somehow I didn't care as it meant I could go home.

As luck would have it there was an available seat on a flight from Los Angeles direct to London and six hours later I was lifting off and enjoying the view as the plane cleared the smog layer.

In a quirk of time and calendar it was the next day and early morning when I arrived back in London. Hiring a private car I was home in less than an hour.

I unlocked the door and closed it behind me and dropped my bags on the floor. There was no sign of Anne and I imagined her asleep. A quick trip to her room confirmed for me that she was indeed awake.

I walked past the library and the bookcase door was ajar. The light was on when I checked so that meant someone had been past it recently. Descending the stairs I checked the first sublevel and found no one. Returning to the stairs I made my way lower.

The sauna was empty when I looked inside. So was the hot tub. But I heard music coming from the swimming pool room. It was clearly a waltz but not one that I was familiar with.

A peek into the swimming pool room revealed Anne gracefully swimming to and fro with her eyes closed. Her dressing gown was hung by the door and I could smell her Yardley's English Rose perfume upon it. Looking again I saw that she had taken my suggestion and was swimming naked. I caught my breath and considered my next action for a moment. She rolled over onto her back to do a backstroke and the sight of her luxurious bosom decided for me.

I stole the gown from its hook and hung a bath towel in its place. Then I went up one level to my modern bedroom and made a few necessary preparations before I hung up her gown in the closet. Then I stripped off my suit and the rest of my clothes and likewise put them aside. An afterthought had me go close the bookcase door and secure it.

Barefoot and naked I walked down the stairs and made my way to where Anne was still making graceful laps in the pool. Quietly slipping into the warm water I moved into Anne's path.

The girl predictably swam right into me. And then she screamed.

But in that moment those wonder bare breasts of her had pressed against me. It was magical.

She stood up in the pool and covered herself with her arms.

"Sir! What...I can explain! I was just swimming like you said and...wait...you're home so soon?"

I nodded, "Yes I am." I explained the decision of the German bank not to fund the project and then my decision to return home. All while I spoke to her she composed herself and modestly held herself beneath the surface of the pool chatting as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Which in my opinion it was.

I swam around a little and then excused myself. I don't know if she watched me or not as I dried off. I left the room and went to my bedroom to wait for her.

Not long after I heard her slip past the bedroom to make her way upstairs. The lock on the bookcase door successfully impeded her but not before she banged on it a few times. There were a few choice words, too.

It took her long enough but soon I saw her poke her head into the bedroom.

"Oh, Sir there you are."

I sat up on the bed and made no effort to hide myself. Anne politely averted her eyes.

"Sir, if I may have my dressing gown and if you'd open the upstairs I'd appreciate your courtesy."

So polite.

So girly.

"Anne, I think I much prefer you the way you are. Perhaps without the bath towel but I think you understand me."

Her eyes went wide. "Sir, I think you misunderstand me. I'm not like that at all! I'm a virgin and I'm saving myself for marriage!"

My cock started to firm up and she looked away.

"Anne, take a look at it. In a short little while it will be all the way up inside you where it belongs."

She started to cry. "You're going to rape me?"

I stood up and went to her. I put my hands on her shoulders and had her look at me.

"No, I'm not going to rape you. You're going to be a good little girl for me and you're going to obey me."

Taking her face in my hands I kissed her. The taste of her tears somehow made the moment even more special to me.

"Please sir, I can't." she whimpered.

My hands went to her shoulders again. "Anne, you can obey me and submit to me or else I can take what I want and I'll allow you the dignity of refusing me."

"Can't you just let me go? I promise I won't say anything if this stops right now."

I twirled a strand of her wet hair. "Say anything to who, my dear Anne? Your parents? Your friends who think you a bit daft? Maybe the police? Would you do that?"

"No..no..I promise no police! Just let me go, please!"

I yanked the towel away from her and tossed it to the floor. Naturally she screamed and cried. It was rather impolite and improper if you ask me.

Opening up a cabinet I retrieved a few things and then guided my disobedient Anne to the bed. She modestly struggled with me as I laid her back and then was silent as one by one her arms and legs were secured to the tie-down fittings. She was helpless before me yet she was also somewhat comfortable.

"I'll be back."

Whatever she tried to say was silenced when I closed the bedroom door.

I made my way upstairs and had a little breakfast. There was some coffee in the pot and it was still warm. I had some and took note of that my proper English girl liked coffee.

Fortified and with my desires temporarily blunted I returned to Anne.

Upon entering the room she was still whimpering but at least her hair was a little more dry than before. She maintained her composure as I ran my hands over her lovely bosom before retrieving yet one more thing from my cabinet.

"I'll ask you again, are you going to be my good little girl and obey me?"

"No." Her voice was very small. Almost like a little girl.

"That's your choice."

With that I produced a single goose feather and proceeded to run it over her body. Very lightly. She moved with discomfort as it tickled her. She strained against the bindings on her limbs when I ran it over her nipples.

"Please stop!" she pleaded.

"Will you obey me?"

She looked away.

I got up and moved to her feet. The feather lightly touched the sole of first one foot and then the other. Then I turned the quill around to touch her feet and was rewarded with a lovely wail as I tortured her. I continued on until she begged me to stop.

"Will you obey me? Will you do as I tell you and be my little girl?"

She nodded.

"Say it." I insisted.

"Sir, I'll do what you ask."

I needed a test. "Then may I touch your virgin pussy?"

She struggled with the answer. I threateningly toyed with the feather.

"Yes." she sounded defeated. My hand went to her mons and massaged it and she looked away from me. It didn't matter. My finger soon found her slit and slipped inside to feel her snugness. She was so smooth and warm inside! I gave her a deep fingering and was pleased not to find any resistance. I fingered her some more and was again rewarded when her body responded to me.

"I'm going to release you now and you're going to stay right where you are. Just as I am telling you to do, do you understand me Anne?"

She looked at me almost in pain. "Sir, you're not going to...do that are you?"

I pursed my lips as I undid her ankles. "Oh, but I think I am. You need to know that you belong to me and there is no better way to convince you of this than to claim you in every way."

Her legs closed tight as a convent vault. "Sir, I'm a virgin! I might have a baby if you do that!"

"Anne, you agreed to obey me. Are you breaking your promise to me so soon? The next thing I torture you with will not be a feather. I assure you that I have many more things to use on you than just a feather."

I stroked her face. "Submit to me, Anne. Be my little girl and let me love you and take care of you."

She sniffled. "You keep telling me to be your little girl, what do you want from me?"

"Anne, you're what? Eighteen or nineteen?"

"Sir, I'm eighteen."

I nodded and brushed a hand over her warm breasts. "Yes, yes you are. But going forward from now you'll act and dress as a somewhat younger lady. I think I'd like you to behave and dress as a younger lady of the Victorian era, that style is more suited to my home, don't you think?"

"You want me to act like a child?"

I nodded and caressed a nipple. "To some extent, yes. You'll call me your Daddy and I'll treat you as my daughter. You'll wear ribbons in your hair and act the part of a young teenager. Understood?"

She looked at me aghast. "You want me to act like a child and then you'll molest me? You're sick!"

Her wrists were still cuffed. I made a decision.

"You're right," I conceded, "I have this all wrong."

Standing up I left her wrists secured and then walked to the foot of the bed.

"I think I should commence with molesting you and then I'll train you to be who I want you to be."

Her eyes went wide. "Oh no! Please sir, I'll behave! I'll do what you want! I promise!"

I stroked my erect cock and caught her looking at it. "No, my dear. Your opportunity to obey me is now passed. Now we we skip to the final act where all eighteen centimeters of this..", I waggled my angry purple cock at her, "is buried in your belly!"

With that I yanked her feet to the end of the bed until her arms were pulled taut by her cuffs. She yelped with surprise as I did this and then she proceeded into a litany of begging and pleading as I pulled her legs apart and then got onto the bed. I scooted myself up to her body with her legs asunder either side of me. Her downy soft fur caressed my cock. I pressed it into the soft skin of her belly.