Maddie's day was not starting out well.
She had just gotten out of bed and put her uniform on for another day of work when she heard her name being called from down the hall. She rushed to see what was the matter and found her master standing at his desk waiting for her: "Finally, I was wondering when you'd show up. Didn't I tell you yesterday to take care of the papers here?" She couldn't remember him saying anything like that, in fact he usually didn't like her to be in any of his rooms besides for the bare minimum of cleaning.
She opened her mouth to say so but before she managed a single word, a hand came out of nowhere to casually hit her across her face. Surprised, she took a step back as her glasses went flying to the floor somewhere. As she bent down to retrieve them, he followed it up with a lazy kick to her side that knocked her to the ground. She simply collapsed there, closing her eyes tight and bracing herself for the beating. But nothing came and after a few seconds of quiet she opened her eyes, crawled to her glasses and put them on, then got up to a kneeling position in front of her master. She knew he would punish her for making him wait just the same as he would punish her if he thought she was resisting.
He looked down at her for a moment, making sure there was no sign of defiance, then told her "So don't you think you should apologize now?"
"Yes, master! I'm sorry!" She hurried to comply, in case he felt the need to make the point some more. "I don't know why I didn't remember, I just thought---" "Shut up." He cut her off, making her flinch. "I'm tired of hearing useless excuses from you, it seems like you can't even apologize right." He continued on, as if stating simple facts despite that she was now pitifully trembling from the blows and verbal assault. "You're useless around here and all you do is keep making excuses and complaining. That's another thing, too! I can't stand complainers! You keep telling me it's too cold in your rooms, or your uniforms fit too tight, or there's not enough food, it's always something else from you."
"Master, I---" She stopped herself from contradicting him just in time; she knew she hadn't voiced a complaint since the first time he asked how she liked her accommodations, and after the immediate punishment that followed she had learned to keep quiet. She substituted instead another "I'm sorry," keeping her eyes on his shoes.
"Apologizing is all fine now, but you can't make excuses forever." He kept going as if he had barely heard. "This time I want you to make it right." She fought the urge to shy away as he crouched down to her level, moving closer. Freezing in place like an animal was her only defense now, she was too frightened for even a thought or a hope. "What do you think is a good way for you to make up for being so useless and pathetic?" She could only go along with it now, "I don't know, master."
"The only way you can make up for your fuckups now is with your death. I want you to end your worthless life, can you do that for me?" As the meaning of his words hit, they sent a shiver through her body and tears to her eyes. Was this really going to make up for her mistakes? But... "If that's what you want, master." She risked raising her eyes for a moment, almost believing it could be a horrible joke and he'd be wearing a cruel smile, but he was as matter-of-fact as he ever was when dealing with her, whenever he wasn't angry that is.
"Good girl." he told her, and the rare praise made it somehow easier for her to accept. "Here's how you're going to do it: I want you to cut your throat. I hear it was a popular method with women in Japan, it should be easy enough for you." And with that, he took a long knife out of a sheath at his back and put it in her hands. For a moment she sat motionless, her eyes glued to the razor sharp edge, then she snapped herself out of the trance to say a shaky "Y-yes, master. Thank you, master."
Almost half believing she was in a dream, she raised the knife to the left side of her neck, trying to steady it with her other hand on the blade, but both hands were shaking so badly she nearly opened up a cut unintentionally. She bit her lower lip, hard, both in concentration and to try to stop the tears she felt coming. After several deep breaths, she managed to get the shaking under control enough to lay the edge to her throat, resting there feeling like a victory by itself for some reason. The blade really was sharp, she thought. Maybe it was just her nervous imagination that she felt a tiny trickle of blood just from that much. As she began bracing herself to make the sideways jerk that would have to come next, she tried not to think about the pain or her fear, or anything at all really.
But the small victory was short-lived, as the sobs burst out of her in spite of all her effort, and her arms fell to her sides. Useless after all, just like master said. She was crying too hard to speak for a minute as he stood by and watched in mild disappointment. Getting her composure back bit by bit, she frantically stammered hiccupy apologies as she reached for the knife again, her hand shaking even worse than before. To her surprise though, he reached in and took it from her; her hands went limp as she couldn't think what she was supposed to do now. Did she dare ask for him to give it back? Had it just been a test?
"You're fucking it up, of course," she heard. "I'm going to have to fix your mistake for you again. Cleaning up after you, as usual." He moved close beside her, and for the first time she could remember him showing any kind of care for her, he was gently wiping her face dry with a handkerchief, then carefully smoothing her hair. She almost burst into tears again when she realized what was happening, and she was shocked so numb that she only nodded without thinking when she heard him ask "You'd like me to do it for you, wouldn't you?"
Satisfied with just the nod, though, he finished with her face and stood, pacing away down the room. "So it's settled. But this is quite a favor for you to ask me, especially since you're the servant here. You're supposed to be making less work for me, not more. So what would you do in return to make it worth my while?" She could hardly think for a second, everything seemed to have rushed past her in a blur from the start. "What?" she came out of the daze, even forgetting her manners. Too late she realized that was an offense that could have earned her even more punishment, though it mattered less now.
Luckily he didn't seem to notice or care, focusing instead on moving ahead with the business at hand. "It's simple. You're asking a favor from me, your master. What could you possibly have to give in return?" And it dawned on her then, but she could only say "Anything you want, master." As he set down the knife and turned around again towards her she saw him smiling like she had just solved a ridiculously easy riddle. "Anything I want? Good. Then let's have you start by getting comfortable. I remember you said the uniforms I generously provide for you are too tight in the chest, right? Why don't you open it up then. No doubt you'd like to complain about your back too, with those huge whore tits." As she unbuttoned, he slipped a hand inside her blouse and squeezed, making her yelp. Then he moved around behind her to grope both at once, peeling the thin fabric down until she was naked to the waist. "Do you want to know another thing about you that I hate?" he laid his chin on her shoulder, putting his face in her long waves of hair, and whispered in her ear. "Why does such pathetic dead weight like you have such a beautiful body? You don't deserve to look like this when you're so worthless." Distracted as she was, she just managed to gasp another "No, master" as she blushed in shame.
He quickly grew tired of her boobs though, standing and walking back around as he told her: "Well, since you're already on your knees where you belong, you might as well make yourself useful next." She knew what was expected of her as she unzipped his pants, taking out his dick and starting with the tip. He was already fairly hard so she didn't have much work to do to get him fully erect, and once she had gotten that far he decided she was still going a bit slow for his liking and took full control. She made a surprised "Mmmrk!" as, wrapping the fingers of both hands in her hair, he began working her head up and down rhythmically, disregarding anything like comfort or a need to breathe on her part. The dick rammed back again and again, bringing him closer every time as he picked up the pace sightly. And she kept making those little noises as well that sent him nearly crazy to hear. Finally when he was just hanging by a thread, he gave up resisting the waves of pleasure and jammed her face all the way down his cock to send his load down her throat. And only when he felt her finish swallowing did he let her come up again, gasping for air. As she recovered she finally gave her master's dick a quick cleaning with her mouth and put it away for him, and sat watching him standing over her once more.
"Well, that'll have to be good enough for now." It seemed like she hadn't heard anything so welcome in years. "Stay right there, then." he said as he turned to retrieve the knife. she shivered on the floor, unable to move. She could hardly remember what was happening to her. She didn't even notice him making his way back, startling her when he appeared by her elbow and started rearranging her disheveled hair. He moved to half-crouch behind her, setting the knife down to pull her gorgeous locks loosely back from her face, and then ran his fingers up her smooth cheeks to hold her head in both hands. "Tell me why I'm doing this, again. I want you to remind me" Her heartbeat picked up a she replied uncertainly "B-because I uh, i couldn't do it myself." One hand moved down the side of her neck and over her shoulder as the other found the knife and traced patterns over her with it. He murmured into her hair, breathing in her scent. "Yes, sweetheart, but why is that? I want you to tell me how useless you are, and that you're better off dead." He felt her shaky breath in and out as she stammered over the words, "Yes, m-master. I'm a useless maid and I-I'd be better off dead." His free hand tangled in her mane, gently pulling her head back so all she could do was desperately stare at the corner of the ceiling as the blade's tip rested on her breast, dimpling the skin and drawing a tiny droplet of bright blood. "Good. And tell me you're a pathetic whore as well. Ask me to do it. Beg." Her heartbeat approached a panicked rhythm, near-sobs jumping in her chest and her teeth chattering as she felt her death approaching. "Yes, mast-ter. I'm a -uh- pathetic w-whore, and I wuh-want you to do this. P- pulease. Please cut my th-thr---" And with that she suddenly found herself unable to continue, the cold steel had rammed into her windpipe from the side. Her eyes widened, and she made a strangling noise as she attempted a breath. A split second later he drew the blade across, its fine-honed edge effortlessly parting her soft flesh. A spray of blood followed as he jerked her head back, at the same time as he leaned her body forward with a knee in her lower back. He had made the cut perfectly, severing windpipe and both veins in one motion, now she could do nothing but make gurgling noises and look horrified into the growing lake of blood in front of her. Too quickly to really enjoy it though, the flow slacked off to a trickle and he sat her back, admiring her breasts and belly painted with her own blood, her dress stained completely red over her legs, the spatters of blood on her lips and the dribbles flowing down her chin. Her eyes turned to his face with an exhausted expression, she couldn't even try to form a word or gesture.
Then he turned her around to lay her back, carefully, in the huge crimson halo on the floor, and stood to admire the best maid he had ever had as she finished quickly dying.