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Frat housekeeper - chapter 4
Feedback and suggestions are greatly appreciated, MalikWhiteSC@gmail.com
Chapter IV
Mr. Cody kept chatting with Mr. Jason Reeves, Mr. Cody's old friend. My first clear recollection of Mr. Jason was during his visit to McColloughs' midsummer reception few years ago. It was one of the first times when I was taken on the house staff team to serve the guests. For that weekend, the house was basically transformed to a 5-star hotel. Of course, more people were needed to make sure that the guests are served up to McCouloughs' standards, so that they are comfortable and enjoying their stay. I was assigned to serve two guest rooms, one of which was reserved for Mr. Jason, who just graduated from high school that summer. His 18th birthday was just few days before the reception. The other room that I was in charge of was reserved for Mr. Drew O'Toole, another friend of Mr. Cody, who at that time was home on a summer break between his sophomore and junior years in college.
Reeves family arrived in late morning and Mr. Jason went straight to Mr. Cody's room before checking on his own room. I brought Mr. Jason's bags to his room and went to do some service in Mr. Drew's room. Through the window of Mr. Drew's room, I saw that Mr. Cody, Mr. Jason, and Mr. Drew went outside -- Mr. Cody was probably showing his guest around the estate. They returned in about an hour and Mr. Jason finally got to his room. I gave Mr. Jason few minutes to settle and then knocked his door.
"Yes."
I did come inside and greeted Mr. Jason:
"Good morning Mr. Reeves, welcome to your room. My name is DaShawn and I..."
Mr. Jason however seemed to know what I was there for, so he interrupted me and said:
"Give me some ice water with lemon!"
"Yes sir, definitely."
At that point I was still a bit new to room service. The water and ice were right there in the room, but no lemon, so I had to rush to the service room to get some lemon. I came back and handed water to Mr. Jason, who was sitting in the chair busy on his cell phone.
"Your ice water with lemon, sir."
Mr. Jason sipped the water a little bit and handed the glass back to me. Mr. Jason was wearing a navy polo shirt, salmon shorts, and sneakers. Mr. Jason was wearing white Nike Killshots with navy swooshes, apparently sockless, although he could have true no-show socks inside. It was somewhat unusual for a southern gentleman to wear sneakers with a polo shirt -- you would rather expect loafers or mocs. This was probably because Mr. Jason (or his valet) expected a short hike outside this morning and felt that sneakers would be more appropriate. Mr Jason stretched one leg out on the ottoman, which was standing next to his chair, and his other leg was resting on the armrest of the chair.
"Sir, lunch will be served in 30 minutes in the main dining hall. Formal attire will be required sir. Please kindly let me know if you would like to take a shower and I'll be delighted to assist you sir."
"No time for the shower."
"Fair enough sir, should I iron any clothes for you, sir?"
Mr. Jason stopped texting and looked at me for the first time. He looked somewhat annoyed:
"What? Did you unpack my bags?"
"No sir, I am so sorry sir! Can I do it right now sir?"
I felt so stupid, I wish I knew that I was expected to unpack Mr. Jason's bags. I had plenty of time to do so while Mr. Jason was outside with Mr. Cody and Mr. Drew. Mr. Jason didn't say anything, just made that look, which clearly indicated that he was unsatisfied.
"Do it later. Now just pick something that I can wear for lunch."
"Yes sir, thank you sir!" -- I was glad that Mr. Jason seemed not to going to make a huge deal out of it. I heard that all Reeveses could be quite demandive.
"Hurry up."
I rushed to Mr. Jason's bags, and unzipped them. Fortunately Mr. Jason's clothes were very well organized. I picked a t-shirt, dress shirt, slacks, dress socks, dress shoes, belt, and a bow tie. I was trying to make sure the colors match and contrast properly. I displayed these clothes neatly on the couch and asked Mr. Jason:
"Your clothes are ready sir. Would you like to check them Mr. Reeves?"
Mr Jason leisurely glanced at his clothes and said:
"It's fine."
However, Mr. Jason has not moved. He kept working on his cell phone. I was not sure what to do. Should I leave the room so Mr. Jason has privacy to change? Or would he still need anything? I decided to stay and wait for Mr. Jason's instructions. In a minute or two Mr. Jason looked at me and said, rather impatiently:
"What are you waiting for? My clothes are not going to take themselves off."
"Yes sir, I am sorry sir." -- It was now clear that Mr. Jason was expecting me to take his casual clothes off for him and put the new clothes on.
I get to Mr. Jason chair, unbuttoned his polo shirt and pulled it off through Mr. Jason's head. Mr. Jason cooperated but also kept texting on his phone. Mr. Jason had a slender body but with well defined pecs and abs. At 18, his chest was not super hairy, but he did already have some hair on his chest, mostly in between his pecs. I then unzipped Mr Jason's belt and wanted to help him pulling off his shorts. However Mr. Jason said, and he again sounded somewhat annoyed:
"Shoes off first."
Damn, of course! I felt so stupid again. Well, I suppose I was thinking that maybe Mr. Jason would just kick his shoes off himself... Clearly that wasn't the case. I first got to Mr. Jason's left foot, which rested on the ottoman. I untied and loosened shoelaces, grabbed Mr. Jason's ankle to lift his foot a bit off the ottoman, and pulled off his left shoe. Indeed Mr. Jason was wearing some thin white no-shows. Mr. Jason's legs were quite hairy, which I thought was kind of hot. I didn't really have no body hair yet. Of course I was younger but I knew that I was unlikely to ever have the kind of leg hair that many white young gentlemen have.. Oh well, I then peeled off the sock off of Mr. Jason's left foot. It was a bit dump. I suppose walking out for an hour made Mr. Jason's feet sweat. I could feel some smell but it wasn't really unpleasant or anything, mostly smelling like leather of Mr. Jason's shoes.
I then needed to take off Mr. Jason's right shoe. Mr. Jason's right leg was still resting on the armrest of the chair. When I was just about to unlace the right sneaker, Mr. Jason unexpectedly took his right leg off the armrest and planted it on the floor. Mr. Jason then ankle crossed his left leg over his right knee. I was like damn, it would've been so much easier to take the shoe off when Mr. Jason's right foot was still rested up on the armrest, but now it was all the way down on the floor and also behind the ottoman. Why wouldn't Mr. Jason just let me take the shoe off first and then change his legs! Of course I was not gonna ask Mr. Jason like: "hey, can you put your foot back up here" -- I was not that stupid. I also was wondering if Mr. Jason maybe wanted to give me a hard time because I screwed up with his bags? I heard that in some neighboring estates the owners could be really mean to their servants. In any event, I didn't want to aggravate Mr. Jason any further. I quickly moved the ottoman aside, get on my knees before Mr. Jason and unlaced his right shoe.
Then I had to take Mr. Jason's right foot off the floor to take off the shoe. Mr. Jason seemed to still be completely focused on his phone to notice what I was doing not to say to cooperate. I had no choice as to grab Mr. Jason's ankle, and lift it up just half an inch so I can pull the shoe off. It was hard in part because of the additional weight of Mr. Jason's left leg, which was still crossed over his right knee. Mr. Jason finally seemed to acknowledge what I was doing and he took his left leg off the right knee, but then.. Mr. Jason stretched his left leg forward and planted it right on my back! -- as if I was his ottoman! I was a bit shocked but at least it was easier to pull Mr. Jason's right shoe off. I then pulled the right sock off, which similar to the left sock had those dump toe imprints. After that, instead of putting his right bare foot back on the floor, Mr. Jason propped it also on my back! I was now on my fours on the floor in front of Mr. Jason, holding his feet on my back, as if I was a footrest! This was really insane. I was not sure what to do. Meanwhile Mr. Jason crossed his feet on my back and probably was stretching his toes as I felt his heels moving on my back. I was not even able to look up, as Mr. Jason's thighs were right above my head. Finally I felt that maybe M. Jason is taking his legs off of me. What actually happened though was that Mr Jason just bended his legs and pulled his feet up and planted them on my shoulders. At least I was able to look up at Mr. Jason, who was still busy on his phone. I was also nervous that the lunchtime was approaching and Mr. Jason was still not ready. I really needed to do something to get Mr. Jason's attention, so I asked:
"May I take your shorts off, sir?"
Mr. Jason put his phone aside and looked down. He was staring at me for a few seconds with some kind of confusion. Perhaps Mr. Jason was expecting to see the ottoman under his feet and was surprised to see me instead down there. You would think that someone would take his feet off right away if realizing that it's the actual human being and not a piece of furniture that he has been resting his feet on. But Mr. Jason didn't take his feet off of me.
Instead, Mr. Jason lifted his right foot but instead of taking it off of my body Mr. Jason put it on top of my head, and pushed it down, bowing my head below the level of my shoulders. Mr. Jason then propped his legs back on my back and crossed them in the ankles. What Mr. Jason has done to me felt like when you adjust your footrest on the bus to make your feet comfortable. In my case Mr. Jason wanted a flat footrest and my head was sort of sticking out, so he pushed my head down off his way, so he can stretch his legs comfortably. As I said, I was felt totally humiliated. I mean I have never had anyone even touching me with their feet before. And now within like two minutes Mr. Jason had his feet on my back and on my head and used me as a footstool. It was clearly not a mistake and Mr. Jason truly felt that this is a totally fine situation. Especially having Mr. Jason's foot on my head was embarrassing. I still felt Mr. Jason's foot sweat on my head.
Then without any warning Mr. Jason pulled his feet off my back. However, it seemed that Mr. Jason was not done using my flat back -- I felt that something small, warm, and vibrating landed on my back. Mr. Jason apparently tossed his cell phone on my back! Again, just like as if it was a coffee table. I heard and partially saw that Mr. Jason then went to the restroom, and he dropped his shorts on the floor on his way. He told me already from the restroom:
"Be ready to fresh me up and get dressed for lunch."
I was again not sure what to do. If I get up I could drop Mr. Jason's phone. But I had to do something. I carefully balanced on one arm and grabbed the phone from my back using my other arm. I was glad that I have been stretching regularly and was quite flexible. I jumped up back on my feet, put ottoman back on its place, and placed Mr. Jason's phone on the ottoman. I then rushed to Mr. Jason's bags, where I found his cosmetics. Mr. Jason meanwhile was already getting out of the restroom, wearing only his underwear.
"Your deodorant, sir."
Mr. Jason cooperated and rose up his arms so I was able to apply the deodorant, and then his perfume. After that I helped Mr. Jason to put on the t-shirt. It was now time for socks. This was probably a routine sequence for Mr. Jason, who took a seat on the couch, kicked back, and spread his legs far apart. I kneeled before Mr. Jason with foot wipes and his dress socks, ready to put them on, but Mr. Jason said:
"Give me my phone."
That again was my fault, and I should've expected that Mr. Jason might want to use his phone during these few seconds when I am putting on his socks. I rushed to the ottoman, picked Mr. Jason's phone, and gave it back to Mr. Jason. I then got back on the floor, wiped Mr. Jason's left sole, heel, toes and spaces in between toes, and dried the skin with dry wipe. I then folded the toe end of the sock up to meet the top end, tuck Mr. Jason's toes into the leg hole, and pulled the sock up Mr. Jason's foot and lower leg while supporting his foot above the floor. I then made sure the sock fits the foot nicely without creases and is aligned symmetrically. I then put the other sock on the same way. It is actually quite different to put the socks on another person's feet rather than your own. Fortunately I was trained quite well in this skill.
I then helped Mr. Jason to put on his dress shirt, slacks, and belt. After that, I kneeled down again to help Mr. Jason with his dress shoes. I loosened the laces and helped Mr. Jason to slide in easily with a shoehorn. One important trick was to quickly wipe the bottoms of Mr. Jason's socked feet with my hand before it hits the shoe to clean the sock from any possible lint that could've stick to it from the floor. Of course, this would be very unlikely in a freshly vacuumed room that was just thoroughly cleaned just prior to Mr. Jason's arrival but you never know. I then quickly tied the shoelaces, and just in case wiped the shoes, although they looked spotless. Finally I helped Mr. Jason with the bowtie. His hair was already styled and didn't seem to need any additional attention. Mr. Jason glanced to the mirror and looked satisfied. He put his phone in the pocket and while leaving the room told me:
"Clean my Nikes, I will need them for the gym after lunch."
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