The Maid For Service Bundle Read online

  But I just...I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

  Here is why:

  After I slipped outside the office, I heard very quickly Lilah moaning—lovemaking sounds, calling out Castle’s name in absolute ecstasy. Glee. Joy.

  Do you see? Do you see, now?

  They needed me there. I can’t explain it, but I truly felt like since I had arrived, some of the gloom had been lifted from the house. Spoons would crack jokes to Terrance and Elliot. Lilah kept commenting about how happy she was, and how she wasn’t drinking as much as she used to. And Mister Castle...well, when I saw him at first, you would think a smile would have broken his face in half. But in that office, when he was feeling me up, he was positively glowing.

  So I know. I know that I shouldn’t have encouraged such lewd, offensive behavior.

  But it wasn’t like we were having sex or anything. They were just...enjoying my body. Feeling me. Dressing me. That wasn’t strictly traditional, but it wasn’t terrible either. And if it made them happier—if some joy had returned to their home as a result—why, wouldn’t I be a terrible person if I didn’t keep it up?

  I am sure the astute reader will have some wild theory about me loving all of this, about me needing and craving their attention desperately, the same sort of completely devoted and adoring attention that I had been deprived of my whole life. Here I was, entering a new household with a mother and father and brother type figures, and all of them can’t stop talking about me or complimenting me or calling me their good girl. Oh yes, I’m sure all kinds of wild theories abound in your devious little head.

  I’ll have you know I’m rather above all of that, and I resent the implication.

  As far as I can resent such things, anyway. I try to avoid resentment. A good girl can’t very well resent things for very long, after all, otherwise I wouldn’t be good for much longer.

  I made my way downstairs and into the kitchen. After that little run-in with the boss and his wife, I wanted a little release of my own. I had chocolate in mind. What I got, though, was giving Terrance an eyeful as my breasts nearly popped out of my tiny dress once more.

  He was in the kitchen, sitting down over a bowl of soup. His eyes widened as he saw what I had on—no doubt made more sexual by the way my hair was all mussed from my hands slipping through it in my confused lust from the episode in the study, and my nipples still completely erect after Castle’s exciting hands slid all over me.

  “Wow,” said Terrance. “You put on all that for me?”

  “This?” In my head rush of lust after leaving the study, I had forgotten how ludicrously oversexed I appeared. “No. No, I’m sorry. This was...no. This was what Lilah put me in.”

  “She put you in it? You mean she dressed you?”

  My pussy jolted heatedly from the memory. “Yes.”

  “That’s pretty sexy. Did you like it?”

  I crossed my arms under my chest, only dimly aware of how that displayed my tits even more. “That’s none of your business!”

  Terrance stood up and came closer.

  “I think it is. What else happened? You seem...agitated.”

  “Nothing.”

  He shook his head. “Something. Tell me.”

  There was no way he was going to leave me alone until I told him something. I figured I may as well tell him the truth. I didn’t think this house had many secrets.

  “I don’t know...lots of things. Lilah, she...she really enjoyed the way I had dressed for her. And then Mister Castle...”

  “Castle too, huh?”

  “Yes. He was...he was putting his hands on me.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  He wasn’t that upset. I was upset that he wasn’t more upset.

  “Yes. He was touching me...”

  “Where?”

  He stood up and came close to me—and then closer. His hands on my hips.

  “On my...” It was getting hard to breath for some reason. Hard to think. His hands were like the hands of Castle—thick and strong. But rougher, too. The tips calloused over with hard work. “On my, um...”

  He slid his hands on my thighs. “Here?”

  I nodded, breasts heaving against my tight blouse.

  His hands moved upward. “Here?”

  Whimpering now, I nodded, my hands sliding up his body. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted him to hold me, to tell me it would be all right. I felt so small compared to him, so tiny and breakable.

  His hands rested on my panties, pushing up against my clit. “Here?”

  Moaning softly, I shook my head. “N-not there. He stopped before...”

  I didn’t get to finish. Terrance pulled away, smiling.

  “I see. He rather likes you, then.”

  “You...” I was so, so hot. “You...why did you stop?”

  “Is that what you want? You want me to touch you?”

  I shuddered with heat. I didn’t know how to answer. Only seconds before, it was all I wanted. But now that he had pulled away, cold reality began to set in. The refrigerator thrummed on next to me, and I started up, bouncing in fright. My nerves were shot.

  “You want me to fuck you? You want to fuck that pretty body of yours?”

  Now, I was definitely turned off.

  “You’re so crude,” I sneered, walking off to the other end of the room. “Sex is for marriage. Only. Not for...not however you look at it.”

  I hated language like that when it came to coupling. All those dirty words: fucking, screwing, hammering, nailing. They were uncouth. I wanted lovemaking to be something special. I wanted candles to be lit, to be waiting for a husband when I came home, wearing something just for him, my legs opened just the right way...

  Terrance clearly wanted just furious, animalistic banging and nothing else.

  I had to keep thinking about that as he looked at me. Furious. Animalistic. Banging.

  God, but he could really do it if he wanted to. He could just take me and I wouldn’t have anything really to say about it...

  “What are you looking at me like that for?” he asked. “I thought I was crude.”

  I turned away, flushing. “Nothing!”

  “Nothing what? Come on. What do you want from me?”

  He tried to step near me again, but again I circled away.

  “Nothing. I don’t want anything from any of you. But I know all of you want me. You want me to—to—to—”

  “—You don’t have to sound so mad about it.”

  “Well, I am mad about it! Mister Castle is married, and he wants me for something crude, like you do. I know he wants to be with me, Terrance. In a...in a husbandly way. I don’t know what to do about that.”

  “In a husbandly way.” He snorted. “Is that really how you want to put it? He wants to fuck you. Just like I do.”

  Terrance wanted me. He wanted to fuck me. I let that information wash over my nerve-wracked mind for a moment.

  “A-and that’s not all. It’s...Lilah. She’s the same way, I think. I think she wants me, too.”

  “So? Goddamn. Wish I was that lucky. As far as I know, she’s only got eyes for Castle.”

  “It’s sick,” I insisted, trying to maintain composure. “They’re supposed to be married. I don’t want to be a part of their weird...sex triumvirate thing.”

  Terrance leaned over on the counter. I could see how his thick muscles flexed. His tattoos coursing on his tanned skin.

  “Listen, just do what he says. Do what both of them say. How bad could it be? You need the money, and they need the release. You’re not betraying anyone. You’re not with anyone. If you ever get married, later on, you can lie to the person about it. Besides...” he shrugged. “When it comes to Castle, probably he just wants you to suck his cock. And that’s not even really sex.”

  I hadn’t thought of it like that. It rang hollow, but at the same time, I could feel the seeds of rationalization sprouting in my mind.

  Like I was for another very potent type of seed, it found me rather fertile ground.
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  “It’s not sex at all.” He stroked my hair now. “And so, if you ever need some practice...you just let me know, girl.”

  * * * * *

  Over the course of the next several weeks, this routine continued. Lilah would dress me up in the mornings, whenever she was home and not away at one of her increasingly lavish holidays (skiing in the alps, tanning in Hawaii, sight-seeing in China). When Mister Castle was home, he would frequently call me into his office late at night for no real reason—often using me as a fetching service for some small item, most frequently drinks—and then proceed to feel me up. And still, I did not fight it. He even kissed me one night, and though I did not kiss him back, I wanted to desperately.

  Often, as Castle finished up, Lilah would suddenly interject herself into our improper situation and take care of her husband’s rising lusts. Stopping him from fucking me by begging him to fuck her.

  Literally begging, by the way. I could hear them from outside the door—she worshiped him, it sounded like. Though, I must admit it was hard to hear sometimes with my fingers buried so deep in my pussy.

  I clung to my morals, like I was in a cartoon and my quickly-becoming-outdated beliefs were the flower on the edge of the cliff. I knew that they wouldn’t last in the face of the hot, perfect drop of my desire...but I would try. Sex wasn’t part of the job unless Castle or Lilah said it was.

  Terrance continued to encourage me to stick with it. But he also began to be more aggressive. Kissing me on the back of my neck during our late-night kitchen encounters. Sneaking up behind me and goosing me in the hall. Touching my tits when I had conversations with him. I felt worse and worse about telling him “no” when it was clear how badly I wanted him, wanted the sex he could give me. But for now, I was just their toy, to be used at their leisure.

  Something else began happening that was strange. I began a rather late-stage growth spurt. At the age of twenty, I had thought I was beyond such things for the most part. But over the series of weeks since my stay began, my hips became wider, my hair thicker and more voluminous, growing at record rates. And my breasts...

  My already large breasts became much, much larger. In less than two weeks, I had increased a cup size. Then in another two weeks, I had grown again. I was easily at a 36E cup now, even though my frame remained as trim and tight as ever.

  And there was something else about my breasts. It’s a little hard to say. But they were...well. They had started to fill with milk.

  Clearly, I was becoming more fertile. I had no idea why. But I wasn’t against it. I just didn’t understand it.

  Because of my increased bust, I had to throw out all of my bras—and all that I had left was the lingerie provided to me by Lilah. More and more, I managed to match her busty, voluptuous frame.

  There was no denying my fertility. Lilah commented on it as she continually reformed my outfits.

  “I bet you could hold lots of babies,” she said appreciatively, dressing me up in the morning. “Look at you. You’re practically the model of motherhood now, aren’t you? You could hold triplets. Quintuplets. You’d be a natural.”

  For whatever reason, the thought of being pregnant, being bred, had really started to turn me on, like hormones were affecting my brain. I started to daydream often about Castle filling me up with his babymaking batter, getting me to be his preggo servant.

  But I tried to stifle those feelings.

  “It’s just...I don’t get it. I thought I was done with...well. All of this.”

  “Nonsense. I went through a similar spurt myself, shortly after marriage. The human body continues to grow well past the age of twenty. I wouldn’t spend another thought on it, dear. You’re just becoming what you were supposed to become.”

  If that was true, what I was supposed to become was a boob-lover’s wet dream.

  The maid outfits she put me in which were, former to my transformation, somewhat respectable, became downright shameless due to the increased volume of my breasts. I couldn’t even take a breath without becoming a completely whorish display. It didn’t help that Lilah insisted I wear black six-inch platform heels, and stockings with frilly white garters. Her pretense of letting me use her “extra wardrobe” was quickly abandoned, unless of course she had gathered up three-dozen maid outfits for her personal use.

  Maybe she had. That was a hot thought.

  It was so incredibly hot. I walked around all day with my shaved pussy constantly wet.

  Oh yes, I was shaved by that time. Lilah had done it herself one late night over a series of too-many drinks, talking the whole time about how badly she wanted to have an extra taste of what she was grooming. But I kept telling her no...even though my heart was crying out yes.

  Late in the day one Wednesday, a returning Mister Castle called me up to his office. I gulped when I heard his request. Being called up to his office usually turned into a long session of being felt up by his strong, sure hands. He was so handsome, I had trouble not cumming just from the way his fingers tweaked my super-sensitive nipples. Because, oh yes, ever since my breasts had gotten bigger, the nipples were more sensitive as well.

  It was incredibly hard to be anything for these people except for a sex-hungry cockstarving maid whore.

  But I was determined not to let it happen.

  As soon as I came in the door, though, his strong arms were around me, and he was hugging me close to his powerful frame. The musky, heady scent from his cock drifted up to my nose, and it got hard to think clearly. I hadn’t had an orgasm in such a long time...

  “How do you like this job so far?”

  I thought it best to lie, as you might expect.

  “I like it very well, Sir. Everyone is very...forthcoming.”

  “That’s terrific.” He leaned back on his desk, pulling me forward by my chin. “There’s something I would like you to do for me. Something that would make you a very, very good girl for me.”

  Immediately I was interested...and anxious. “Sir?”

  “I want you to suck me off.”

  Just like that. No sugar-coating.

  “S-sir?”

  “Lilah mentioned you might be hard of hearing. Is that the case?”

  “N-no Sir. It’s just—”

  “Then you heard me?”

  “Yes, S-sir, I just—”

  “Then I expect an answer. Are you going to suck me off?”

  “I...I don’t know. I hadn’t been expecting...”

  Perhaps a decent woman would have spat in his face, or slapped him, or pushed him, or just stormed off. But his presence was so palpable, his power so overwhelmingly present in the room, that I couldn’t simply shake off the request. I felt, truly, as if someone had handed me briefcase full of drug money. Sure, you knew it might be wrong to take it...but all that money just made you drool.

  I was not drooling at the prospect of his cock, but I certainly was close. I can’t describe to you well enough the smell of him, his musk, so strong and masculine and everything that a male was supposed to be. I let the scent of him fill my lungs. I let it fill my whole body.

  I wanted to deny him. I knew his wife could come in at any moment, like she almost every evening I was alone with Castle. I felt positive that my shame would be exposed straight to her.

  “You don’t have to suck me off.” He put a hand through my thick blond hair. “If you really don’t want to. But you won’t have a job tomorrow if you don’t.”

  It was as simple as that, then. All my work meant nothing. All my hard labor in organizing his house. He wanted a fuckpet. A thing. An object to use.

  “Y-you can’t just...fire me because...”

  He tsked, holding my face. “Don’t be silly, doll. Of course I can. Now, are you going to suck me off, or am I going to have to find a new maid?”

  “All right,” I said after a moment. “O-okay.”

  It was such sweet, sweet bliss, giving in to him. My heart raced. I kissed his hand, but he withdrew it. I had to earn the privilege, I realized.


  “On your knees, then.”

  Quickly, I dropped to my knees, and my hands went to his pants.

  “Not like that,” he said. “You’ll crawl if you want to suck me off.”

  Obediently, then, I shuffled back a bit and crawled forward—but he stopped me.

  “From the front of the room. I want to watch you work.”

  My pussy was on fire! Stifling my shame, I got up and walked to the front of the room, got down on my hands and knees, and began to crawl forward toward him. His face broke out into a wide grin.

  Slowly, I slid up his pants and unzipped them. Before long, I had exposed the treasure there that I had wanted for so very long.

  His cock was so big. Really, really big. I didn’t know anything on a man could be so big...and it was just growing bigger, right in front of my eyes. Stiffening, because of me. This powerful, enormous man...and I had this sexy, perfect effect on him.

  It was an intoxicating thought.

  Slowly, I let my mouth envelope its largeness. It was slow-going at first. I took him in bit by bit, the thick flesh pressing up into the roof of my mouth and then back, down into my throat. I gagged a bit, but he held me fast, not letting me back up to catch my breath. He seemed to enjoy making my gag—knowing that his cock was so huge that it was barely possible for any woman to take him.

  “That’s it,” he said. “Keep going. You’re being an awfully good girl, Claudette.”

  I moaned, my pussy twitching at the compliment. God, I loved being called their good girl.

  I was enjoying myself so much that my work got rather sloppy. It was my first blowjob, after all. My drool layered down his thick meat, saliva and precum mixing together and landing in my bountiful cleavage. My breaths were so hard, so frequent, that my tits spilled out of my tiny sexy maid’s outfit.

  From reading articles on the internet, I had learned that I was supposed to stroke his shaft when I couldn’t get it all in my mouth—so I did that too. He loved it.

  “I’m gonna cum right in your throat,” he moaned. “You want that, good girl? You want to taste your Sir’s cum?”

  I moaned out that I did. There was no mistaking. I wanted to feel him fill my belly up. He pushed my hands away and started fucking my mouth wholesale—fucking my face like he owned it.