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The Bad List

©2012 Raminar Dixon Erotica

This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All characters represented within are eighteen years of age or older and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. This work is property of Raminar Dixon, please do not reproduce illegally.


Jasmine was late. Again.

I couldn’t count all the times that girl had let me down, but a few of her most inventive excuses came to mind; her cat died, her grandmother was sick, the car got a flat tire, her boyfriend left her, and, oh yeah, my favorite and the one she used the most - that she wasn’t feeling well.

I have plenty of days where I don’t feel well. That doesn’t stop me from dragging myself down to the salon to get a facial or have Don Thomas give me a massage! The nerve of some people!

Is it so much to ask that my maid show up on time or, God forbid, polish the silver properly? It felt like all I ever got were whiny excuses and sob stories.

Well, I’d had enough. Jasmine had to go. So what if she’d worked for my family for fifteen years? New maids were abundant in this town and I could probably hire one for much less than I was paying Jasmine, anyway.

I’m sure my son would miss having her around, which was the only reason she’d lasted until now. I suppose I couldn’t complain too much about her work taking care of him, but really, how hard can it actually be to watch a four year old all day?

“Hey, Miss Featherbottom,” she said meekly as she walked in through the front door. Her hair was tied up into a knot on the top of her head and her distressed winter coat looked like it was about to fall apart. Why didn’t she buy some new clothes and at least try to look presentable?

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