Maid for Bondage

Maid for Bondage

My hands strained against the cold metal handcuffs that bit into my wrists behind my back, while his strong hands closed around my neck. I gasped for breath, sputtering through my ball-gag as he pressed his thumbs into my throat.

“Having a little trouble breathing Anna?” he said.

I let out a pathetic cry, my eyes moistening. Meanwhile, I could feel in my panties below that my eyes weren’t the only part of me moistening. I coughed through the ball-gag, feeling a little bit of drool dribble down my chin.

He let go of my neck, allowing me to breathe again.

I coughed, sputtering spit through the ball-gag.

“You look too hot,” said my powerful, dark lover, who seemed to relish in this power of life and death he had over me. “Must be the uniform.”

He grabbed the front of my green maid’s outfit and tore it open. Buttons scattered and clattered to the ground. He continued tearing at my clothes until they were naught but shreds hanging off me, leaving me naked but for my lacy bra and my damp, damp panties.

I still felt hot. Too hot, and all sweaty. My whole face felt flushed, as I gasped through my gag, my chest heaving in and out.

“Look at those perky tits,” he said. “Teasing me like that. They need to be free.”

He reached a single powerful hand forward, gripped and then tore the bra off of me.

“Mmm…” he said. “That’s better. You’ve been a naughty little maid, haven't you? Always teasing me with your sultry little looks. And the way your tits and ass look in that slutty little outfit.”

He roughly grabbed my breasts and squeezed. He was hurting me…but somehow it felt so good…

I let out a moan through my gag.

“Shh…” he said. “You love it.”

He pinched my nipples with his thumbs and index fingers.

I let out something that was a cross between a whimper and a purr.

“You like that, don't you? You like it when I hurt you.”

“Yef,” I sobbed through my gag.

“You know what I like?” he said.

I think I can guess, I thought to myself.

He pressed his hand down on my head and shoulder, pushing me down to my knees.

Then he unbuckled his belt, took out his throbbing cock and then pulled my head back by the hair. I gasped as he ripped out my gag.

I sucked in a few short breaths of air, my naked breasts heaving.

He held his rock-hard cock in front of my mouth.

It’s so big! I thought. And it demands to be sucked. How am I going to suck that thing without choking?

Somehow, that didn't matter. Not to him. With both hands, he grabbed my head and forced his cock into my mouth. I took him in deeply, and strangely, breathing was not a problem. Or perhaps breathing didn't matter to me either. It was like I was made for this! Or maid for it, if you will…

Our eyes locked and then I stared deeply into his…those eyes I haven’t seen in such a long, long time. The eyes I love. The eyes I miss. The eyes of my ex.

After what seemed an eternity—and yet paradoxically not nearly long enough—of giving head, my lover pulled me off his cock, yanking my hair back again. Then he pulled me to my feet.

“Your whole body is screaming to be fucked, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yes,” I gasped.

“I know. I can smell your pussy from here. You want it bad, don’t you?”

“Yes!”

He threw me down onto the bed like a ragdoll, and then climbed on top of me. I felt his hands closed around my neck again, his thumbs threatening my air supply as his tongue entered my mouth.

Then his cock entered my pussy. Waves of unstoppable pleasure overtook me as he fucked me hard.

“I love you,” he said, in that entirely different, softer, sweet voice that I missed.

“I love you too,” I sobbed, in the throes of passion.

This was the best. This was how I longed to be loved again. This was how I needed to be fucked.

 

****

 

I suddenly awoke in my bed, panting, and quite alone now in my cluttered tiny apartment, to find myself sucking my thumb, while the other hand was down my panties. Both hands, and my panties, and frankly my sheets were all pretty damp with my saliva, vaginal secretions and sweat.

“Oh god,” I said to myself. “I really need to get laid.”

My ex-lover’s face was already fading from memory, as was the wet dream. Now I had to come back to reality. He wasn’t my lover anymore. He hadn’t been for some time. Now I was living alone and cleaning homes for a living. This was my life now. And looking at the clock, I realized I was already late!

I quickly got up, showered, threw on my hideous green maid’s uniform—the one that makes me look more like a gardener than a maid—and rushed to my car to get to work.

 

****

 

"Anna, can you take another job tonight?" asked Mrs. Wu, in her thick Chinese accent, in a voice that always sounded a bit like one of Alvin and the Chipmunks coming out of my phone. She was loud, so I had to hold the receiver somewhat away from my ear.

I was driving my car, already on the way to East Hampton to clean four homes. Taking on another was going to make this a very long day.

"That depends. What part of town is it in?"

"East Hampton. Same as your other two stops today."

"My other four stops you mean. I'm already taking on Francesca's shifts now that she's gone, remember?"

"Oh yeah," said Mrs. Wu. "Well, I need someone to take it, and you closest. Do you want it?"

I considered this. I didn't want to clean any homes today, to be quite honest. Being a maid for hire was never exactly my dream career. I'd hoped to at least be doing work in my field by the time I graduated. But, here I am, now with $30,000 of student debt I don't know how I'll ever pay off. And I never have time to look for work since I'm always cleaning people's homes. I'm 23 now, and some days I worry that I'll still be paying off this debt when I'm 33, at $9 an hour, and still basically spending everything I make in rent and food, and just the minimum payments on my credit card. So by then I'll probably be even more in debt. Heck, if things keep progressing as they are now, I'll probably still be paying it off at 43, when I'll owe $60,000 in debt, and when my back starts to give out on me. Like Francesca's did. And then I'll be leaving some other poor twenty-something two extra homes to clean. Soon to be three, thanks to Lucia's absence.

"Well, I do need the money I guess," I said.

"Good. Good. I put you down for this one then. I text you the address."

Then she hung up, and for the next twelve hours, I cleaned four East Hampton homes. We're typically expected to spend 3 hours in each, which is crazy when you consider the sheer size of some of these homes. But we're not allowed to bill more than 3 hours per home, so, that's how long we spend there.

 

****

 

By the time I got to the fifth and final home, I was exhausted. I just wanted to get in, clean the place as quickly as I could, and then get home. I just wanted to crawl into bed, and try not to cry too much at the thought of having to do this all over again the next day. Which is what I did yesterday. Maybe, if I'm lucky, tonight I'll have a wet dream about being swept off my feet by a rich, handsome billionaire and get to live in one of these homes while someone else cleans for a change. Then I'll probably wake up and cry.

I looked up at the fifth and final home. To call this mansion massive would be an understatement. It was like three mansions decided to have a threesome and liked it so much they just moved in together. I had no idea how I was going to clean this place in just three hours. I didn't think I could even do it in six. No wonder it was Lucia's only stop for today. This was a full-day job.

"Oh, fuck me," I said aloud.

I got out of my car, made my way up the winding walkway, and rang the doorbell.

Moments later, the door opened, and the most ridiculously handsome man I’ve ever seen answered the door. Now he's a sight for sore eyes! He's gorgeous, my mind screamed. He had the most beautiful hazel eyes, and this curly, effortless mop of hair that flopped down a little on one side. And you could just tell by the way he moved that he had some serious pecks going on under that suit he wore. Did I mention that I was a sucker for a man in a suit? His jacket hung open, and his tie hung loose. He'd obviously also just got in from a long day, though one where he probably made a lot more than I did.

"Hello," he said, seeming to stare at me, transfixed.

"I'm Anna," I said, somewhat mesmerized by him. When I realized that probably wasn't explanation enough, and that I was giving him a blank, dopey stare, I added: "I'm replacing Lucia today."

"Oh," he said snapping out of his own reverie. He seemed distracted. I wondered what was on his mind. "Right, well, won't you come in please?"

"Who's it is, Bill?" bellowed a female voice from the next room.

"It's the maid, darling," he said without looking away from me, a mild smile on his face. It was sort of beguiling actually. I didn't really get the sense like he was flirting or anything, though perhaps I wished he would. It was more a look of tacit politeness. Though if he had decided to flirt with me, he might have had my panties peeled off in an instant! As it stood, I was already getting a tingling sensation just looking at him. I had to pinch myself suddenly, and remind myself that I was the maid, wearing a horrid green uniform, and not some debutante at a ball. I yelped a little, having pinched myself a little too hard. Then I gave Bill an awkward smile as he returned a bemused look, probably wondering what the hell was wrong with me.

"Finally," said the woman, presumably his wife, coming from the next room.

She was gorgeous too, of course. Someone I could never hope to compete with, and whatever fantasy I had of wooing this gorgeous man before me was instantly shattered. She had the air of a woman that always got her way.

"You're late," she snapped.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I only found out about this this morning."

"And you waited until tonight to show up!"

"It was the last stop on my list…"

"That's just wonderful! Now we'll be tripping over you all night."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I can come back tomorrow if—"

"It's fine," she snapped. "You're here now. May as well make the best of it. Maybe you can start in the bedrooms while we have dinner."

"Of course," I said, and bowed my head in deference.

Wow, what a bitch, I thought. I'd just got here and I already felt like she was going to chew my head off.

I did as she asked, and started in "the bedrooms." I thought it would be just one master bedroom, and then maybe some barely-used guest bedrooms, but it seemed she really meant bedrooms, plural. She and her husband obviously slept in separate bedrooms. I wondered why.

Her bedroom was already meticulously neat. It was an almost barren place. It was filled with art, still lifes mostly, and several plants that I quickly realized were actually made of plastic. I would have to remember not to water those. The place looked like a museum. It didn't look like a place where anyone would actually live, save the fact that there was, in fact, evidence that she'd been sleeping in her bed. She also had an ensuite bathroom, and a walk-in closet filled with all manner of dresses and gowns…and maybe a hundred pairs of shoes. It seemed like she had outfits for all occasions.

His bedroom, by contrast, looked like a hybrid of that of a teenaged boy and maybe a rock star. He had several posters of fairly nerdy things: Game of Thrones, Doctor Who, and a photograph of Captain Jean-Luc Picard actually autographed by Patrick Stewart. Nerdy things that I myself loved. I couldn't help but think about how wonderful it would be to strike up a conversation with Bill about…well…pretty much anything I saw in here. He also had several gaming consoles in his room, and a red and black Stratocaster electric guitar propped up in one corner. I wondered if he played. He certainly hadn't struck me as a musician when I first met him at the door, but I could see that there was a lot more to him than first meets the eye. And even what first meets the eye about him was pretty beguiling.

But it was when I entered his walk-in closet that I think I really fell in love. One side was just suits, and some other athletic and casual wear. That wasn't the interesting part. What struck me was what was on the other side. He had an entire wall of some really kinky stuff in here. He had several kinds of gags, floggers, leather restraints, handcuffs, collars, nipple clamps, armbinders, straightjackets, dildos, vibrators, and things I didn't even know what the heck they were.

Maybe I could ask Bill, I mused.

Next to the bondage gear was an assortment some kinky womenswear that looked like it would all probably have fit his petite wife. It would probably also not be a bad fit on me, I noted. I wondered why they were in here and not in her own walk-in closet. Maybe there was just more room in this closet. Or maybe it was just more convenient to keep them here with the other toys. Or maybe…maybe they aren't just for her?

I couldn't help but feel a little turned on by everything in here. I suddenly found myself wishing I was his wife. I was horribly jealous.

Did I neglect to mention that I'm a natural submissive? I love kinky stuff like this. Sure, I don't have that many toys of my own, but I did have a boyfriend…once…a long time ago now…back when I had time for a boyfriend. He had his own collection of toys, and had really gotten me interested in it. His collection, mind you, couldn't hold a candle to this one. And anyway, he's long gone now, and the toys went with him when he left me.

I ran my fingers along some of the leather restraints and handcuffs, and I thought about how long it had been since I'd been bound and at the mercy of a hot guy and then thoroughly fucked.

Mmm…I thought. Oh, how I missed it.

Fuck! I realized I was getting myself wet, so I shook my head, took a few deep breaths and got back to work.

After I finished with their bedrooms, I worked my way to the guest bedrooms, which seemed unused, so all they needed was a little sweeping and dusting.

By the time I was finished with those, I'd been there roughly an hour, and I noticed the door to his bedroom was now barred, and I could hear voices coming from inside. I couldn't help myself; I had to listen in, just a little.

I wonder if they're getting their kink on, I thought amusedly. Maybe I could live vicariously through their fun.

But when I got closer, and put my ear to the door, I realized they weren't sweet-talking one another. It sounded more like they were having a fight.

"I just asked if I could tie you up, Carol," came Bill's voice. "Why are you acting like I just asked for your blood? Honestly, it's just been awhile since we've played like we used to. I just thought you might—"

"No! Absolutely not. I thought we talked about this. I thought we decided we weren't going to do…that anymore."

"You decided. I just thought you needed a break. I mean, obviously I'm not going to make you do anything."

"Obviously! I just don't see why you always feel the need to do…ugh…that!"

"I like it."

"Well I don't."

"Why not?"

"It's degrading. It's demeaning."

"Well…I mean…sure. It can be. But I thought that's what you liked about it."

"I was pretending, Bill. All right? It was fine when we were younger. But now it's just sick and perverted. And I've outgrown it. And if we're going to try for a baby soon, we're going to need to get rid of all this perverted junk anyway."

"Maybe we should just call it a night," he said.

"Whatever. I'm not in the mood anymore, anyway."

"Neither am I," he shouted.

Oh shit, they're coming this way, I realized.

I scrambled to get away from the door, but before I could move a few feet back or turn around, the door was open and I was staring doe-eyed, face-to-face with Carol, and she had a very bitchy expression on her face.

"Well? What the hell are you looking at? This isn't your own personal soap opera! We're not paying you to eavesdrop; We're paying you to work. Get back to work!"

Then she stormed off before I could stammer a reply. Seconds later, the door to her room slammed.

Then Bill approached me.

"Sorry," he said softly, and then proceeded past me. He looked embarrassed. I felt kind of sorry for him. From what I'd gathered, all he wanted was to tie up his wife a little. I thought that actually sounded really hot. I'd certainly let this man tie me up if it meant that I got to fuck him!

Then as I stared after him he stopped and turned. For a moment, I felt guilty, like he'd somehow read my dirty mind.

"You can probably clean the downstairs now. I doubt she'll leave her room at this point."

"Okay," I said.

And then I just stared at him. He stared back at me. He was just…so…handsome. And he just looked so embarrassed—no, emasculated—by the way his wife had just laid into him. I didn't think there was anything wrong with his inclinations. I kind of liked them. I wanted to say something to that effect, but somehow, I didn't think it was appropriate. And I didn’t think I could dare.

If I was your girl…I thought, longingly.

If I was his girl, I wouldn't dream of turning down an offer to be bound and at his mercy for the night. Fuck, that sounded great! My pussy tingled from just thinking about it. I'd do just about anything to get with a hot, sweet guy like him.

If I was your girl…but I'm not.

"Do you need something else?" he asked.

"No," I said, snapping out of my reverie. "I'll be…going…doing…doing the downstairs now."

I wanted to slap my forehead because of how stupid I had just sounded.

But he just nodded, and then shut his door. Moments later, I could hear him playing the guitar. So he could play…and he sounded really good too! He was playing some variation on a rock & roll riff I couldn't quite place.

I'd love to rock his world, I thought, bemused.

I cleaned the kitchen, and the dining room, and then I began dusting the living room, when I suddenly felt a bit faint and decided to sit on the sofa, just to rest my eyes for a moment.

Then things got a bit strange.

Bill came down the stairs. He was giving me a suave smile, and he was…he was naked from the waist up! And he was gorgeous! He was every bit as muscular and chiseled as I'd imagined through his suit before. He stepped up to me and without so much as a word, he began kissing me forcefully. Then he threw me back down onto the couch, and reached into his back pocket to produce a pair of handcuffs. He then, without another word, snapped one cuff over my hand, then spun me around, and locked the other cuff behind me. Then, now that I was helpless and completely at his mercy, he kissed my lips again, and then reached between my legs, into my panties, and began to play with me.

"Oh Bill," I moaned.

Then, the next thing I knew, Bill was shaking me awake.

"Hey," he said, with a look of concern on his face.

I looked at him again, and now realized he was fully clothed, and my hands were not cuffed. I realized that I'd been dreaming. And then I realized, much to my horror, that I'd just fallen asleep at work!

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Oh god," I said. "I'm so sorry. This is so unprofessional. I just…I just meant to…I didn't even realize I'd closed my eyes."

"You look exhausted," he said.

"Thanks," I muttered, maybe a little too sarcastically for my own good.

He gave me an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry. What I mean is…how many hours have you worked today?"

I looked at my phone.

"Fourteen now I guess."

"Fourteen hours? Why on earth are you even here? This is illegal. No wonder you're so tired. Why would you agree to this?"

"I took a few extra shifts. Someone had to, and—"

"Maybe you should go," he said.

"No, no, wait," I said in a panic. "Please don't fire me. I really need the money. I'm good. I'll clean everything."

"I'm not firing you, Anna. I'm just telling you that it's all right if you want to go. I'll pay you the full amount, and I'll pay you again to come back tomorrow. Would that work for you?"

"Oh, I can't…I can't let you do that."

"Nonsense. What do they pay you?"

"Nine bucks an hour."

"Nine bucks an hour? I pay those bastards fifty dollars an hour so they can turn around pay you nine? What's the other forty-one dollars for?"

"Administration fees? I really don't know. I guess I never really thought about it."

"Listen. You've been here…what…two hours?"

"About that. Yeah."

"Here's two hundred. For your time here. Go home. You look beat. Come back tomorrow, clean my house then, and I will pay you for the day."

I didn't know what to say. I felt like I was taking advantage of him, but at the same time, he'd just pointed out to what extent I was being taken advantage of. And I'd have to be stupid not to take him up on his offer and take the money.

"If you're sure that's all right with you," I said.

"Yes. Please. Go home. Get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Okay," I said.

He escorted me to the door, and then I drove home.

I reheated some dinner from the night before, wolfed it down, brushed my teeth and then crawled into bed. Strangely, I wasn't as tired now, and was feeling just a little bit restless.

And…well, I couldn't stop thinking about how badly I wanted to be taken by Bill. So I imagined all kinds of scenarios in which I might somehow break to him gently that I liked the things in his room, especially the kinky stuff. Or that I liked being tied up. Or maybe I would just put on one of his wife's cute outfits, and then gag and handcuff myself and wait for him in his room, maybe with several floggers out on his bed. Mmm…That would be fun. He could do what he wanted with me. Have his way with me. Fuck, the idea was getting me so hot I had to make myself come three times before I could finally settle down and get to sleep.

 

****

 

I dreamed about Bill again that night. This time, he had me shackled spread eagle to his bedposts, and he had flogged me, dripped hot candle wax on me, all while I cried and begged through a ball-gag for him to fuck me. Then, finally, just when the dream was about to get really good, I woke up, and found myself hot and bothered, back in my own bed in my tiny apartment.

"This is going to be a problem," I said to myself.

I was unable to accomplish much of anything before furiously masturbating and getting myself off one more time.

Then I got a call from Mrs. Wu telling me that I'd been booked for the day by a Mr. Bill Buchanan. So I thanked her, put on my uniform and headed back to East Hampton.

For the whole drive there, I couldn't stop thinking about him. About how badly I wanted him. It just wasn't fair! Carol, his wife, slept in a different room. She was generally really bitchy. And she didn't like what he liked, either in the bedroom or otherwise, it seemed. Why was she even with him, let alone married to him, I wondered? They were both a little older than me, but neither of them could be much older than about 30. But maybe there's a strong history between them. Or maybe it was one of those marriages of political convenience. Rich people do that, don't they?

When I got to Bill's mansion, one of the two cars was already gone. I didn't know which was his, though at a guess, I imagined the blue sports car was probably more his style than that of his maturity-obsessed wife. I hoped I was right. I wanted to see him, and I most certainly didn't want to see her.

I rang the doorbell. Moments later, Bill came to the door, wearing a suit and looking amazing. He looked like he was getting ready to go somewhere.

"Hello again, Anna. Thanks for coming back."

"No, thank you," I stammered. "I mean. It was really nice of you to…well…"

"It's nothing, really. It seemed like the least I could do. Anyway, my wife is already out. I don't think she'll be back for the rest of the day—"

"Oh?" I asked. A proposition already? Does he somehow know how badly I want to—

"And I'm about to head out for a few meetings too."

"Oh," I said, feeling a little stupid for having thought it, but at least glad I hadn't actually gone and said anything to that effect. That would really have been stupid.

"I just don't know if I'll be back before you're done, so I'll just pay you now."

"Oh. You know…if you're already paying Missus Wu…"

"What Missus Wu pays you is bullshit," he said, surprising me a little with his bluntness. "She's taking more than eighty percent of the money, and doing basically none of the work. I think this is far more fair. She still gets her cut of forty-one bucks an hour, and you make one-oh-nine."

I felt like I'd just been hit by a freight train of good fortune. I'd never had a rich client treat me like this before. Normally, paradoxically, I’ve found that rich people are often actually quite cheap, and certainly wouldn’t be offering gratuities like this. Well, not without also asking for me to do something degrading or disgusting in return. I've been asked to clean in my underwear before, by an older guy. I didn't go back to his house after that. But Bill, on the other hand…I'd be almost disappointed if he didn't want something out of the arrangement!

"Also, please, if you get hungry or thirsty just help yourself to anything you want in our kitchen. Just don't make a mess."

"Right," I said, a bit dazed.

"Because then you'd just be creating work for yourself," he added with a smile.

I realized then he was making a bit of a joke, and snapped out of it and then laughed, probably way too hard. Then he looked at me like I might have lost my mind.

"Have a good day, Anna," he said.

I loved the way my name sounded on his lips.

"You too, Bill," I said, and then I realized that I liked the way his name felt coming out of my mouth too.

I bit my lower lip as I watched him go. Fuck, he was so hot! It was maddening.

I stashed the six one-hundred dollar bills he'd just given me in my bag, and realized I'd probably never made that much in a single day before. Possibly not even in a whole week. Come to think of it, I didn't think I'd ever seen that much money in one place before. It felt like Christmas had just come early.

So, alone in the house, I began to clean each room, starting on the bottom floor, and working my way upstairs. As I did so, I imagined what life might be like for me if I were Mrs. Bill Buchanan. What it would be like to put on a fifties-style apron—and possibly nothing else—and cook for him. And clean for him. And drop my apron at his feet and kneel there. Can I do anything for you, Master? I found myself daydreaming a lot about him while I cleaned.

When I finally got to his room—I'd saved the best stop for last—I began to admire his things, starting innocently enough with his posters and books and his guitar. Even minus the bondage stuff, and the other kinky things, like the outfits, he'd still be such a fun guy just to be with. But it was as if his wife just couldn't stand him. What the hell was wrong with her? And how did she have such a hold over him?

I went to his closet and admired the outfits that his wife presumably didn't want anymore and wouldn’t wear. Then a naughty thought occurred to me: No one was home! And I'd been coveting playing with some of these things. Maybe I could try a few outfits on. No one would ever know. And I was ahead of schedule, after all. And anyway, no one would be home for hours…

I excitedly stripped and then tried on a red skin-tight vinyl dress with a cute hole at the top which emphasized my cleavage. I evaluated myself in the mirror, and marveled at how hot I actually looked. I couldn't resist the urge to take a few selfies.

Then I tried on a cute little French maid's outfit. I took more selfies and toyed with the idea of cleaning the rest of the house like this. But it would be pretty embarrassing if Bill and Carol came home and I was dressed like this. How would I explain it? So I took the dress off.

Then I tried on a black vinyl bikini and thigh-high vinyl zip-up high-heeled fuck-me-boots. I looked so hot in this I was turning myself on a little. Naturally, I took another few more selfies.

I would love to own some of this stuff, I thought. It was going to be tough to resist the urge to steal some of it, even though I doubt it would ever be missed.

Then I saw the nipple clamps and the gags, and I just couldn't resist. I had to try them! The nipple clamps were adjustable, so I adjusted them such that they wouldn't pinch me too had, and then I doffed the bikini top and put on the nipple clamps. Then I got the red ball-gag from the wall and popped it into my mouth and fastened it behind my head. Then I admired myself in the mirror again. I held my hands behind me, imagining that they were shackled there, and that maybe Bill was standing behind me, getting ready to ravish me. Then of course, I took more selfies, and admired the way I looked there with my mouth gagged and my nipples clamped, and with Bill standing behind me…

Wait! How did Bill get into that last selfie?

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Startled, I screamed, although the gag muffled it.

I scrambled to undo the gag, and then realized it'd just be easier to pull it out for now. I obviously owed Bill an explanation. So I popped the ball out.

"Oh god," I said. "Um…I'm not really sure I have an excuse that'll make sense."

He just stared at me, slack-jawed.

He's ogling me, I realized.

Then I just couldn't help myself. I held my hands behind my back.

"Do you want to take a picture? It'll last longer…" I said. I was trying to make a joke to lighten the tension. I was hoping I wasn't about to get fired.

He shook his head, as if to snap out of some reverie of his own.

"Sorry," he said. "I don't mean to stare."

You don't mean to stare? Fuck, stare all you want. Please! I don't mind…

"No, I'm sorry," I stammered. "I shouldn't be in here. I shouldn't be doing this."

"You just look so…good. Like that."

"You really think so?" I replied, elated, blushing a little.

"Sorry, that's inappropriate."

"I don't think so."

"What?"

"I mean…Yes. What I'm doing. I know it's inappropriate. But what I wanted to say is…this stuff you've got in here. I just…I love stuff like this. I mean I'd love to have stuff like this. And I just think…I just think your wife should be overjoyed to play with you."

"Oh," he stammered. "Um…Okay."

"I'm sorry. I'm being weird. It’s none of my business. Please don't fire me."

"It's all right. Just…you should take those off."

"Of course," I said. "I'm sorry. I'll um…I'll take it off."

Then he stood and stared.

"Unless…" I continued, you'd maybe like to tie me up and fuck me, I thought. I wanted to actually say it, but that would take a leap of courage that I didn't quite have just then.

He shook his head, snapping out of it again.

"Sorry," he said. "I'll go and let you change."

Damn.

He left, and I put my clothes back on, and headed downstairs to face whatever consequences were in store for me.

When I got there, he was pouring himself a glass of scotch and gulping it down, and then staring vacantly into the rear yard. He looked pensive. Deep in thought. I wondered what was bothering him. Was he trying to figure out the words to say that he was firing me? Or was it unrelated? Well, how could it possibly be unrelated? He'd just seen a half-naked maid in bondage gear in his room. And he'd turned her down…

"Um…I've finished for the day," I started. "The um…house is all clean," I added, making a silly jazz-hand gesture. "So…are we good?"

He turned his gaze towards me.

"We're good," he said with a nod.

"Really? You're not going to fire me? Or reporting me to the authorities for some sort of sex crime?"

He laughed.

"Heavens no," he said. "But uh…you should probably go now."

I nodded, and without another word, I turned to go. When I was halfway out the door, he spoke again.

"You're right you know."

"I'm sorry…what?"

"What you said earlier. About Carol. I don't know what happened. I used to think she was into this stuff. Now I realize all my life I've been living a lie."

"Oh…listen, Bill, I didn't mean—"

"It's all right," he said. "I was merely just thinking."

"Thinking what?"

He put down the rest of the scotch.

"Those things up there. They look a lot better on you than they ever did on her."

My jaw hung in shock for a moment. Had he really just said that to me? Or was I dreaming?

"Really?" I said. "But she's so…hot. And I'm so…"

"You're a beautiful girl too, Anna."

My face flushed red. A compliment from him felt like a gift from the gods. I didn't know what to say, but luckily, I didn't have to. He continued.

"But I think what makes them look better on you is that you actually seem to enjoy them. I just don't think I ever realized I'd been playing with a girl who'd been faking it. I just…didn't realize it until I saw you enjoying the real thing. What you were doing in there, Carol would never have done."

"I see," I said.

"Do you want them?"

"Do I want what?"

"Carol's old things."

"The bondage gear? No. God…no, Bill! You've already given me so much. I can't take that stuff from you too."

"She wants me to get rid of all that stuff anyway. And I figured since you seem to genuinely like them, it would be a waste to throw them out. It would only make sense to—"

I couldn't quite figure out why, and looking back on it, I still can't, but at that moment I just got so mad. I hated his wife. I just hated her. I felt like she'd taken a really sexy aspect of this man and she'd just stuffed it into a tiny box and then stomped on it until it was flat and lifeless.

"Those things," I practically shouted, "are yours! I saw the way you were looking at me back there. And I don't know if it's me you were looking at, or if it was just how much you miss playing with those things, but…Bill…those things up there? They're a part of who you are. And I think if your wife can't love that part of you too, well, there must be something wrong with her. Because if I were your wife, I'd…I'd…"

I had begun running out of steam at that point. But Bill was giving me the most vacant look. I think I was weirding him out. And then, speak of the devil, his wife's car was pulling into the driveway. The car door slammed, snapping us both out of whatever distraction we'd been in.

"I…um…" he gulped.

"I'm sorry. Please. Forget I said anything. I'm just…"

I’m just a stupid girl with a stupid crush on a beautiful, sweet boy.

His wife came in.

"What's going on here?" she asked.

I gave her a stunned, guilty look.

He just raised his eyebrows innocently.

"What do you mean? Anna's just finished. She's on her way out."

"Right," she said. "Whatever. I've had a long day. Pour me a glass of that, will you?"

I took my leave of them then, without another word.

I drove home and crawled back into bed, and then cried myself to sleep.

 

****

 

It was about a week later that I got a call from Mrs. Wu saying Mr. Bill Buchanan had booked me for the whole day again.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I don't think I heard you right. Could you say that again?"

"It's a Mister Bill Buchanan. He want you to clean his house again. He pay full day."

"Are you sure he wants me?"

"He say he want you specifically. He say send Anna if she available. Are you available?"

"Of course I'm available," I said.

"Then what you waste my time for? Get your ass to work! He pay you for six hour."

"Right," I said. "Thank you."

She'd already hung up.

I showered, pulled on my uniform and rushed off to East Hampton again.

I got there, and once again, his wife's car was gone. His car was still there.

I rang the bell.

Moments later, Bill came to the door.

"Hello, Anna," he said evenly, a mild smile on his face. His smile made me beam on the inside, and the way he said my name…It all just brightened the day and washed away any worries I had.

"Hey, Bill," I said, unable to contain a smile. I hadn't realized that I kind of missed the sight of him. He was wearing a suit again. He looked like he was ready for…whatever it was that he did for a living. I realized I didn't know, but now didn't exactly seem the time to ask.

"Having a good week?" he asked. "Missus Wu isn't working you too hard is she?"

"No, not all. No, I'm having a great week…"

…now! I thought. In truth, I had, in fact, gone back to taking on extra shifts, making about $360 for about 40 hours of work. It was kind of comical to think about the fact that I'd made $600 for just 6 hours at his place last week. $654 actually, after my cut from Mrs. Wu.

"That's good. Anyway, listen. I have to run again, but it's the same deal as last week. I'm going to pay you now since I don't know if I'll be back early or late, and Carol's gone all day. Actually, she might not be back at all…"

"What?"

"Never mind. Don't worry about it. Just…here's the money now in case I'm not back before you finish. And um…yeah. Have a good day."

"Okay," I said. "You too!"

He gave me a nod, and then headed outside, got into his car and left. I wondered what it was that he was going to say to me when he trailed off just then. Probably something like: Please don't strut around the house in one of my wife's old fetish outfits. Which actually seemed like kind of a fun idea! I had to laugh at myself a little for thinking that.

I started with the downstairs first again, intending to work my way up to the master bedroom. I didn't want to do too much playing until I'd finished cleaning, but before long, I found myself getting restless, and having increasingly naughty thoughts.

It seemed to me to be such a terrible waste that all that bondage gear, and all those cute, playful outfits were just sitting in his closet, collecting dust. I got the sudden urge to take a short break, and go upstairs, and maybe…well…I thought it might be fun to try a few things on.

So I made my way up the winding staircase to the master bedroom. I had my heart set on putting on that French maid's outfit, or maybe something else. I would see when I got there.

I went into the closet and began to devise the perfect outfit to strut around the house in as I cleaned. I wanted to still go with a strong maid theme, but something completely different from the outfit I currently wore, which was this ugly green uniform that made me look more like a gardener than a maid. So I took it off.

I eyed the French maid's outfit, but still somehow, it hadn't seemed daring enough to satisfy this new strange urge for me today. I'd already tried it on last time, and anyway, I had a better idea.

I took a few of the accessories from the French maid's outfit: the white lacy stockings, the frilly white skirt, the white frilly scrunchies for the arms and of course, it wouldn't be complete without the frilly maid's cap. Then I put on a plaid apron that didn't even extend down to my navel, and was really more bikini top than apron.

Then I looked at myself in the mirror. Just one more thing was missing: Shoes, wonderful shoes! And I knew exactly where to find a pair…

Into the witch's lair I go, I thought mischievously, as I made my way to Carol's bedroom. I went in and examined the almost endless rows of shoes until I spied a pair I thought would look good with the outfit. It was a pair of open-toed black, three-inch stilettos.

I pirouetted in front of Carol's mirror. I looked so hot! I just had to take a few selfies. Then I briefly thought about taking the outfit off and getting back to work, but then that strange urge took over again, and I found myself once again flirting with the idea of cleaning the whole house like this, with the thrill of getting caught looming over me the whole while. It would certainly pass the time quicker. And anyway, well…aw, who am I kidding? I wanted to be caught! I wanted Bill to catch me. I wanted him to get aroused and bothered by the sight of me like this, and then I wanted him to punish me! And then maybe reward me—and himself of course—with something a little sweeter…

So I went downstairs and resumed cleaning the house. Frequently, I found myself posing in vulnerable and suggestive positions, while bending and cleaning the toilets, or vacuuming under the rugs, or between the cushions of the couch where I'd first fantasized about being taken by Bill. I kept hoping that he'd come home suddenly and find me like this. I think it was at around that point actually, while vacuuming the couch where he'd first spoken so kindly to me, that I got into my head the idea that I would not go home when I finished. I would wait for him. I needed to know if he wanted me as badly as I wanted him.

I made my way back upstairs and cleaned the guest bedrooms, all the while still entertaining the fantasy that Bill might be home early, and that he had been thinking about our first encounter too. This time, I would make my move, and it would be more than just talk and a little teasing. I thought that Bill must want me too. He wouldn't have asked for me again specifically if he didn't, right? I gathered that things weren't going so well with Carol, and presumably hadn't been for some time. Maybe what Bill needed was to be treated like a man again…by a woman who wanted him, and who appreciated his kinky side.

Then I cleaned his wife's room, which gave me quite a thrill. If she knew what I was doing, cleaning her room in this kinky maid's outfit, wearing her shoes, she'd freak!

Then I cleaned Bill's room, and then after that, I was finally all finished. So I pondered what to do next. I certainly didn’t want to leave yet. Then I had an extremely naughty thought. I don't know what came over me—maybe I was just getting myself really turned on—but I found that I was flirting more and more with the idea of simply presenting myself to Bill tied-up!

He would like that, wouldn't he? Or was that too much? I certainly wanted to do it. I figured if he really didn't like it, he could always just fire me this time. After all, he could have fired me last time, right? And really, I saw several hints in his eyes, and in our verbal exchanges that he might want this. And let's not forget the fact that he wanted me to keep all of these things anyway.

I considered presenting myself in the current outfit as-is, but then bit my lip when I eyed the nipple clamps again, the ones with the chain connecting them. I had looked so hot in those. How could Bill resist me? So I doffed the plaid apron. Now topless, I played with my nipples a little in front of the mirror, teasing them and getting them hard. Then I took the clamps, and adjusted them so they wouldn't hurt me too much, and then clamped them down on my nipples. Then I put the red ball-gag in my mouth and fastened it behind my head. Then I checked myself in the mirror. I looked fucking hot!

I still hadn't fully decided. I could always chicken out now. Then I eyed the handcuffs on the wall, and idly played with them. I made sure I knew where the key was. Just in case. I put the keys with my phone and other things on the floor, just in case I needed to reach down for them. Then I locked the handcuffs around one wrist and admired myself again.

Was I seriously ballsy enough to do this?

Fuck yes, I decided.

I shackled the other cuff to my other wrist behind my back, and now I was helpless. I looked at myself in the mirror again, and imagined Bill finding me like this, and being unable to resist running his hands all over my body, slowly working his hand down my panties while I tugged at the cuffs that locked my hands behind me, making me moan in ecstasy through my ball-gag. Being teased, and tortured, and pleasured until neither of us could stand it anymore, and then having him throw me on the bed and fuck me hard.

Oh…fuck…I realized. I was getting so incredibly wet down below. I was probably soaking these panties. I would have to wash them. Or just take them with me. Bill did technically say that I could after all.

Then I heard a car door slam outside.

Shit, I thought, as the immediacy of things was hitting me, realizing what a precarious position I'd just put myself in. I can't tell whether that's Bill or Carol. If it was Carol, and not Bill, I might be in serious trouble!

Then, the front door opened. Whoever it was, I was alone in the house with them, and bound in a naughty maid's uniform, and completely helpless! I could only hope that it was the one that I wanted…

Then I heard the clip clop of women's shoes below.

Oh shit! It is Carol!

"Hello?" came Carol's voice, as her feet clip-clopped up the stairs.

She was coming up too fast I realized. I scrambled to get to the key I'd left on the floor, but then the doors flew open, and there we stood, looking at each other face-to-face.

"What…the actual…fuck," she snapped.

She stalked up to me. I shifted around uncomfortably.

"These are my panties. My shoes. What the hell do you think you’re doing?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't answer. I literally couldn't; there was a gag in my mouth.

She circled around me and then when she'd gone all the way around, she had a frighteningly sadistic look on her face.

"You're an actual perverted submissive slut, aren't you?"

I shrugged. I didn't really like the way she said that, nor did I like the look of contempt she was giving me.

She went to the closet and took something off the wall. What was she doing? Then when she came back, I realized what she had in store for me. She was holding a bamboo cane.

I freaked, and started screaming, and tried backing away, but I wasn't very mobile in these boots, and aside from that, I was completely helpless.

"This is going to hurt, Anna," she said evenly.

I was so frightened! I tried pleading for her not to do anything rash, but I wasn't exactly able to be coherent.

"You were going to present yourself like this to my husband, weren't you?"

I shook my head.

"Don't lie to me, you bitch," she said, and she struck me across the tits with the cane.

I screamed. The pain was horrific.

"Was this his idea? Or yours? Answer me, you fucking whore," she screamed, and whipped me with each sentence. "He's not even going to recognize you when I'm finished with you. You! Fucking! Home-wrecking! Cock-swilling! Whore!"

With each nasty word, she struck me, either in the breasts, the stomach, the ass or the back. After the first three or four strikes, I was crying my eyes out. Every part of my skin was on fire.

The more I begged, the more she seemed intent on beating me harshly with that cane. I screamed and sobbed helplessly into the gag, as the strikes continued to sting my back, my stomach, and my bare breasts.

"Carol," came Bill's voice from seemingly very far away. "Carol what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Teaching this bitch a lesson. You think I don't know what's going on here, right under my nose? You think I don't know what this bitch is up to? I can…" she leaned over and sniffed at the clothes. "I can smell her whore pussy on my clothes."

"She's…she's a human being, honey."

"She's a home-wrecking slut," she shouted, striking my breasts hard again with the cane. I yelped into the gag, and cringed as she was about to descend again.

But she didn't. Bill had stopped her, and was holding the cane, wrenching it from Carol's grasp.

"Carol. Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare ever touch her again."

Carol shot me another angry look. I knew then that if Bill hadn't been there, she may well have killed me. Or at least disfigured me. But now she looked back at Bill, and then saw something dark there, and she shuddered, and then slunk away.

"I'm going to use this in the divorce proceedings," she said.

"You should probably re-think that, Carol."

"Why?"

"You've committed a crime," he snapped. "Look at her face, Carol. Look what you did to her body."

I had tears running down my face. I imagined my make-up had run quite a bit. I was probably a frightening sight.

"You'll be lucky if she doesn't press charges against you for aggravated sexual assault."

Then Carol made a strangely desperate face, and then bolted from the room. Moments later, we heard her car peeling out of the driveway and off into the distance. Meanwhile, Bill took the gag out of my mouth, and looked for the key to the cuffs, but of course, couldn't find it.

"She didn't take the key, did she?"

I shook my head.

"I have it," I said.

"Anna, I'm sorry. I've never seen Carol do anything like this before. What did she do to you?"

"She just used the cane on me. That's all," I sniffled.

"That's all? Anna, that's horrible. I think I tried using the cane on Carol exactly once, and she screamed, so I tried it again on my own arm and decided there was no way I'd ever use it on Carol, or even my worst enemy. How many times did she—"

"It's all right," I said, standing up.

"Where's the key?" he said.

I took a few steps towards him and bit my lip.

"Anna, if there's anything I can do for you—"

I moved in closer and up to his face. Now our faces were only inches apart.

"Kiss me," I said softly.

"Anna, I don't think—"

"Please," I begged. "Don't you want to?"

I could feel the sexual tension between us, almost like an energy was pouring off each of us, like an intoxicating smoke. Could he feel it too? I wanted him to touch me. I needed him to touch me.

I think he must have felt it too. I was sure of it.

He took me in his arms and kissed my lips. I kissed back passionately. Our tongues danced around one another's. My pussy was getting so wet with desire, and I was getting goose bumps over the rest of my body. He tasted and felt so good. I wanted him so badly I could barely stand it.

He pulled away.

"Anna…" he said.

"Bill…" I said. "Do you want me? Do you want this?"

I looked down at my own body, in the frilly maid's skirt and panties, the stilettos and the nipple clamps. The fresh cane marks still stinging with pain. I looked back up at him and bit my lip, awaiting his answer.

"Do you want this?" he said softly.

Oh, god, of course, Bill!

"Yes," I moaned, my pussy aching with a need to be touched.

He took a step closer to me again, and then put one hand on my tits, massaging them gently. They ached from the beating Carol had given me, but Bill's touch was so soft. So soothing. With his other hand, he pulled my chin in and kissed me some more, and I enjoyed the taste and feel of his mouth on mine, his tongue dancing around mine. Then his hand traveled down into my panties and touched me…down there. Once his fingers touched my clitoris, I let out a gasp, and cherished the soft but firm pressure he applied to it.

"You're so wet already," he said, seeming half-astonished.

"This is what you do to me, Bill," I said.

He smiled.

"And this," he said, ramming his now-rock-hard cock against my eager pussy, "is what you do to me.

"Oh god," I gasped, so turned on by the feel of it. His need now seemed as great as mine, and I loved that my body was doing to his what his was doing to mine. "Mmm," I added, as he rubbed his crotch against mine. "Can I do something to please it?"

Bill took off his shirt first, revealing that he really was every bit as ripped as I'd hitherto suspected—no—dreamed about. Maybe he was even hotter. He was beautiful. Now I wondered if he was some kind of model, or maybe an athlete. But of course, that didn't seem right either. And I absolutely did not care to ask at that moment. Then he undid his belt and dropped his pants, letting his cock spring free. It was so big, and so hard. And I wanted so badly to feel it inside me, to pleasure it. To taste it.

"May I please taste it?" I asked.

"You may," he said.

I got to my knees, and took it into my mouth. He let out a gasp of ecstasy as my lips glided over his glans. Then I bobbed my head, slowly and sensually as I maintained eye contact with him. I teased the head with my tongue, and then bobbed deeper, trying to take in as much of his throbbing cock as I could without gagging. I'd never sucked a cock this big before. I now desperately wanted to know how it would feel thrusting and pumping inside my agonizingly needy pussy.

"Your cock is so beautiful," I said, and then pulled back. "You're so beautiful, Bill."

"You're the one who's beautiful," he said, gently stroking my cheek with his hand.

"Will you please fuck me Bill? Please? I need you so badly."

"Oh, I'll fuck you," Bill snapped in an almost animalistic tone.

Bill scooped me up into his arms and carried me over to his bed, where he roughly dropped me. I bounced once from the force, and then in another few seconds he was climbing on top of me. I opened my legs and he brought his cock up to the lips of my pussy.

"I don't think I have any condoms," he said.

"I don't care," I said. "I'm clean. Are you?"

"Of course," he smiled. "You're sure?"

"Please, Bill. Fuck, I just want you so badly."

"The feeling is mutual," he said, and then thrust himself into me.

And then…oh god! His cock felt like pure heaven inside me, filling every part of my vaginal canal in just the right way. He pumped into me slowly at first. He was very gentle, which was good, but also firm and forceful. The sheer size of him was something I wasn't used to. But it just hit me in all the right spots! He put one hand beneath my head for leverage, while the other played with my nipples, making them hard. It felt so wonderful! He kissed my lips again, and we made love with our mouths as well as our nethers.

"Oh, god," I gasped. "Bill, I'm going to come," I said.

"Good," he grunted. "I'm about to come too."

Then we both, in unison, went into convulsions together, crying out in ecstasy. I came hard, and then, as I came down from my orgasm, I felt his cock pumping his hot seed into me. It felt…so…wonderful. I felt like I'd just given him something he'd needed for along time. And I myself had never felt so complete before in my life!

After that, we lay together for awhile. He lay on his back and I nestled into the crook between his arm and chest. He gently rubbed my back with his hand. After a few minutes of this, he broke our placid silence.

"Should I un-cuff you now?"

"No, not yet," I said. "I'm kind of enjoying this."

"Really?" he said, looking bemused.

"Yeah," I said, biting my lip, giving him a playful look. "It just feels right. I've always kind of liked being restrained and in the arms of a hot man. I guess you could say I was maid for bondage!"

Then he twisted his face into a mischievous grin, and smacked me hard on the ass.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"That was a terrible pun."

"I know," I admitted. Then I looked up at him demurely and bit my lip. "Do that again."

He smiled darkly. I didn't know what would happen next for us, or if we had a future together. But for now, I knew I wanted him, and I knew he wanted me. We were right for each other. That was all that mattered.

He gave my ass another smack. I squealed a bit lustfully, and then he kissed me.

After that, he held me for awhile, and then slowly we drifted off to sleep. And then you know what? I dreamt about him. Because even though I perhaps subconsciously knew he was right there beside me, still protectively holding me, I couldn't wait to wake up and be played with some more!

 

###

0