tagNonConsent/ReluctanceMaid to Order, Made for More

Maid to Order, Made for More


(This story is posted on the Literotica website. Do not repost anywhere else without the author's consent. For fans of my stories, they know what kinds of things to expect. This story deals with similar themes as the stories by wannabeboytoy, seducedHylas, and Dark Betrayal, namely cheating, betrayal, and heartbreak. If stuff like that isn't your cup of tea, then you probably shouldn't bother reading it. I do not condone any of these actions in real life. This is just a story. Enjoy.)


When you have to choose between cleaning the house and making love to your husband, that's a problem. I hated to clean, I just hated it, but that responsibility fell on me. I had married rich, and my husband Troy was kept extremely busy at his father's company, so I felt like it was on me to keep the homestead looking nice. We had a very large house, practically a mansion, so it was a never ending battle to keep it presentable. It just felt like there was always something that needed cleaning. I had brought up the idea to Troy of him working from home so he could help me out, and he said he would love to, but it was unfeasible. And that's fine. I understood. Don't get me wrong, Troy never expected the house to be perfect and for there to be dinner on the table when he got home. He wasn't that type of guy. But for all the blessings he gave me, I felt I should at least do that. And besides, he was so busy the last thing he wanted to do was come home and clean.

Now, I did work, but unlike him, I could work mostly from home. After we were married, his parents suggested I help them out. Troy's family was extremely wealthy, and outside of the main company that Troy's great-grandfather had founded, they also were very active in raising money with fundraisers. Who they were raising money for changed with every event, and they held events often. Most of them were black-tie affairs, real classy events among the city's elite. Troy's mother suggested I help them out with these events by being on the fundraising group's Board of Directors, helping spearhead different events and charities. This may sound like boring stuff, but I loved it... I revelled in it.

My family had been poor for years. We had always struggled to get by, and all the money I made when I worked as a teen went to keeping the family afloat. We all had to do above and beyond to keep our house presentable while Mom and Dad worked. My sister handled lawn work. My brother handled car repair. I handled cleaning.

Thus grew my hatred of house work.

So every week after I turned 14, I cleaned the house. I despised it, and to this day the antiseptic smell of the cleaning spray makes me sick, but I did it. I was eager to get out and be on my own, and I eventually found a small apartment while I tried to go to school. I had to work three jobs to keep myself afloat, but I did it. And it was at work where I met Troy. He was so handsome, with a boyish smile, and perfectly coifed hair. He flirted with me as he ordered his coffee, and as I handed him the cup, I made sure my number was written at the top his bill. He called a day later, and the rest was history.

It was funny, on our second or third date, I found out his birthday was the same as mine. He and I were born on the same day. I knew at that point it was our fate to be together. Put on Earth on the same day, meant for each other. We married a couple years later. We are now both 25 and happy. He rescued me from a life of toil and labor, and introduced me into high society...it was like something from a fairy tale!

I had lived years in the lower class, but suddenly I was kanoodling with the crème-de-la-crème of high society. I went from working three jobs catering to blue collar slobs to hosting charity events for society's elite. I went from wearing hand-me-downs to wearing elegant designer gowns. I had always resented people in the upper class, but now that I was one of them, I loved it. I loved being rich. I loved interacting with the city's elite. I loved knowing some famous people. I loved dressing up in amazingly expensive gowns.

I could never go back to the life I had before. I promised myself that I would never do anything that would jeopardized the life I had, the blessings I had been given. I vowed that if there were any issues in my marriage, if I ever had a fight with Troy, I would do my damndest to get past it, to make it work. I would do anything to keep Troy and maintain the lifestyle his love had provided me.

So you can understand now why after all this change, after moving so far upward in society, the last thing I wanted to do was dirty my hands with common house work. It was a reminder of my old life, and to be honest, I felt a little above this. And like I said, cleaning our house was a big job...an exhausting job. So, I had to choose between saving my energy but leaving the house in squalor, or cleaning and not having the energy to take care of Troy's needs. And I was such a perfectionist and maybe a little bit OCD, that I wanted the best of both worlds. I wanted to have the house look perfect, and I also wanted to take pleasure in my husband's...more than generous endowment, day after day. It became clear I had to choose between one or the other.

Both Troy and I loved sex. I would freely admit I put out for him on our first date. He was that handsome, and that charming, and that...hot. That smile of his, his easy charm, could make any girl melt with desire. He could easily charm his way into the bed of any woman...he certainly did with me.

Not to make him sound like a dog, sniffing around for any bitch in heat. No, it just came naturally. He was a sweet, good-hearted man. His charm came with the package. And his package was...well taken care of...thanks to that charm.

I could go on and on, but I loved Troy's penis! It was a thick, beefy, smooth 9.5 inches, and he kept his pubic hair nice and trim. His testicles were huge and smooth, and he could ejaculate like a stallion. I could play with it for hours, and just study it for days. It was gorgeous. Troy was skilled in the carnal arts, and it would be hard not be to with such an impressive endowment. He could go all day if I let him, and I did my best to keep up with him, but we were both adults, and we had lives to lead, so we could not just stay in bed all day enjoying each others...company. I did my best to hold up my end of the bargain and keep him satisfied, and I knew for a fact I kept him happy and satisfied.

With a husband that had a healthy sexual appetite and a big house that needed cleaning, something had to give. I brought this up to one of the women on the fundraising board, an older, handsome woman named Agnes, who had been on the board for years. I explained myself delicately, not wanting to get too crass, but she was the type to get to the point.

"Dear, just say it. You can't find time to be with your husband." Agnes said.

"Yeah, pretty much." I said blushing.

"Irene, I know exactly what you're dealing with, and I have the perfect solution. Get a maid." Agnes said.

"A maid?" I asked.

"Yes, I have one myself. She's dumb as a box of rocks, and she doesn't speak much English, but she can clean a table like no other." Agnes said.

"Really?" I said.

"Yes. Do you want to get one? I mean, in this part of the country, it shouldn't be hard to find a Mexican immigrant for cheap work." Agnes said.

"Uh, yeah." I said, blushing at her casual racism.

"I'll tell you what, I'll ask my girl if she has any friends, and if she does, I'll send them your way." Agnes said.

"Okay, sounds good." I replied.


"A maid?" Troy asked, sliding under the sheets, laying back as we got ready for bed. "Do we really need a maid?"

"Just think." I said, rolling towards him from under the sheets. "If we get someone to take care of all that boring cleaning, it would leave me all the time in the world to take care of this." I added, reaching down and grasping his cock in my hand.

"Oh, yeah." he said, perking up, smirking that smirk that always made me melt.

"Yeah," I said, starting to stroke his hardening cock. "All those hours I spend washing clothes, dusting the house, buying groceries, could be spent doing this." With that, I ducked under the sheets and took his dripping dick into my mouth.

"Oh shit." he said, his head falling back onto the pillow. I bobbed on his dick, hoping to change his mind.

"I don't think we should." Troy said. I teased the tip of his dick with my tongue.

"We probably don't need a maid." he said as I played with his balls.

"Uh, maybe we can have a maid come over once a month." I took deeper sucks.

"Okay, maybe once a week." My cheeks were hollowing as I sucked hard.

"Oh, fuck!" Troy groaned, spilling his copious seed into my mouth. I swallowed as he fell back, to the bed, relieved of all tension. I emerged on top of him, hovering over him.

"Okay, fine. We can get a maid." Troy said with a laugh.

"Full time? Cause I really hate cleaning." I asked.

"Fine. Full time." Troy said. I kissed him on the forehead and fell to his side.

"Good. I already set up an interview tomorrow." I replied.



I made things look nice in anticipation for the visit from the prospective maid; just because we were looking to hire a maid did not mean that I wanted to look like a slob in front of her. There was a smudge on our glass table that was bugging the crap out of me, so I had to quickly grab a washrag and some spray to rub it out.. I just finish stacking some magazines in a nice neat pile when there was a knock at the door. Troy was supposed to be here, but he was being kept late at work, so it be just me for this interview. Excitedly, I skipped to the door, eager to meet this possible maid. I calmed myself, regaining my professional demeanor, and opened the door with a big smile on my face.

I was a bit taken aback at my first glance at this girl standing at my doorstep. I expected an older woman, a matronly like woman. But this girl standing in front of me, she could have been a model. She had long, straight black hair, which looked silky smooth. Her face was strikingly pretty. She had silky, mocha colored skin, a bright infectious smile, perfect teeth, and big, expressive eyes. She was lightly made up, but her beauty rendered any makeup unnecessary. She had the skin of a baby, smooth and unmarked. But if her face reminded you of youth, her body let you know she was very, very adult.

The first thing anyone would notice on her was here massive breasts. They were huge! They had to be DD's! Lucky girl! She thankfully only exposed a hint of cleavage in her tight blue tank top, which clung to her body, and her giant breasts, leaving her smooth arms exposed. She had on a pair of tight, dark jeans and a pair of sneakers.

"Hola!" she said brightly. She bounced on her ankles as she said this, full of pep, causing her full breasts to jiggle under her top.

"Oh hi! You must be..." I started.

"Gabriella... but you call me Gabby." she said, with a heavy accent.

"I'm Irene." I said slowly, as I noticed she seemed to struggle with her English. "Please come in." I said, inviting her into my home. She smiled wide and bounded in with the enthusiasm of a child. But as she did, her chest jiggled noticeably. I couldn't blame her for showing off her assets, but at least she kept it within reason. I was never the type of girl to compare cup sizes, but still, even after I let her in, I couldn't help but glance down at my A cups and accept they didn't compare to hers. And as I walked and noticed how the jeans molded to her ass, her round, perky jutting ass, I couldn't help but burn with jealousy as I knew my ass definitely lacked the curves and perkiness that hers had. But hey, I was happily married to my soul mate, living my dream life, and she was a maid, so I think I won out all things considered. I didn't stew on this for too long, as her infectious joy and wonderment won me over.

"Su casa... very big. Biggest I see. Ever." Gabby said, looking around in awe of my large house.

"Oh, uh... gracias." I said, causing her to smile. "Please, uh, sit down." I added, gesturing to the couch, she bounded onto the couch, bouncing to a stop, looking up at me like an expectant child.

"So, tell me about yourself." I said. I looked down and noticed the remote control was haphazardly placed on the table. I lined it up so it was parallel to the side of the table as she began to speak.

"Um, I was born... in Mexico, near Oaxaca." Gabby started. "I'm 25. I have two sisters and one brother. I came to America to get... new life. Better life." I nodded.

"Are you legal? I mean, are you a citizen?" I asked. I saw her expression drop a bit, so I continued quickly. "It's not a big deal if you are not. I won't report you or anything like that." I said, making sure she didn't think I was going to report her.

"Uh, no." Gabby said, sheepishly.

"That's okay, that's fine." I assured her.

"Okay." she said with a nervous smile.

"So, Gabby, you know why you're here, I'm assuming. We need a maid around here, to keep things clean, do the laundry, take care of chores, some cooking maybe." I said. She nodded to everything I said, but I wasn't sure if it was all getting through. "Would that all be okay?"

"Yes, I...very good at clean. Very good at cooking." Gabby said with a big smile.

"Do you have any experience?" I asked.

"Yes, at home, I clean all the time." Gabby said. "And, I'm very good cook. Very good." she added, putting both thumbs up.

"Good. Um, I would like you to work forty hours a week, minimum. Would that be okay?" I asked.

"I work...as much as you need." Gabby assured. "Is this job... do I live here, or..." she started.

"Um, no. You just come here every day in the morning." I replied.

"Oh, okay." she said, looking down, disappointed.

"Is that a problem?" I asked.

"No, it's just... I don't have car. I have to take bus to get here. It would be easier if I could live here, in a room or something. My friends do that." Gabby said.

"Uh, sorry. Maybe eventually, but not right now." I said, taken aback by this request.

"Okay." Gabby said. "Is...husband here?" she asked, regaining her glow.

"Uh, no. Troy is not here right now. He was supposed to be here but he is running late. You know how guys are." I said, and she giggled at this. "C'mon, let me show you around." I said, standing up and giving her the grand tour. Her wonderment returned, and it was clear that this was a whole new world to her. As we walked, I kept noticing small things I missed when cleaning. I knew better than that, and I tried to quickly fix these mistakes without her noticing, but every time I did her eyes were on me, smiling brightly. She came across a bit like a dim bulb, but her heart was clearly in the right place and she seemed like a sweet girl. I tried to show her some of my tips and tricks to cleaning, and like before, she nodded to everything I said, but I was unsure if anything I said really stuck. I was unsure if she would do a good job at this, but it seemed like she had her hopes up, and I would be breaking her heart if I told her she couldn't have the job. We had just reached the front of the house when I heard the door open up behind me.

"Hey, babe. Sorry I'm late." Troy said, still looking dapper in his work clothes. He walked over and gave me a peck on the lips. "Hon, this is Gabriella." I said, gesturing at Gabby.

"Hi." he said, holding out his hand.

"Hola!" Gabby said brightly, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it softly. I couldn't be sure, but it seemed like her shirt was clinging a little lower on her chest, and it seemed like more of her cleavage was exposed than before. But, my eyes might have been mistaking me. They made small talk for a little bit, as I sat back and watched. She told him about her family, and that she hoped to help her parents back in Mexico. He paid attention, even though she was struggling with her English. Her bubbly personality seemed to grip him as well, as he was smiling wide at her, even though I could tell he was tired.

"So, where are we at?" Troy said, turning to me, clapping his hands together.

"Actually, we were just finishing up the tour." I said.

"Oh. Uh, sorry." Troy said sheepishly.

"It's alright. Gabby, I have your number, so I'll give you a call when we make our decision." I told her.

"Oh. Okay. Nice to meet you." she said, bowing slightly to me and shooting a smile at Troy.

"We'll be calling you." Troy said as she bounced away. "We're hiring her, right?" he asked.

"I don't know. She seems super friendly, but she comes across a bit... dumb." I said.

"I dunno. It seems like she has a big heart." he replied.

"And a few other big things." I said, nudging him in the ribs.

"Hey." he said, holding up his hands, "I'm a gentleman, so I don't notice these things."

"Gentleman my ass." I said, "You were leering like a school boy." I teased.

"How dare you?" he said, causing me to laugh. I pulled him close and gave him a peck on the cheek. As we headed to the kitchen, Troy asked.

"Are we gonna hire her, or not?" he said, his arm around my shoulder.

"I guess." I replied.



As I walked away from the house, I knew I had the job, so I let my ditzy façade drop. I reached into my purse and pulled on my sunglasses. I called one of my roommates and arranged for one of them to pick me up. Moments later, a car pulled up next to me, and I stepped in.

As we drove away, I smiled, reflecting on the interview. My dumb, ditzy Mexican immigrant character worked to perfection. That stupid bitch Irene bought the routine hook, line and sinker. I was willing to go with this maid job till something better came along. I had worked many odd-jobs. Cook, waitress, room service at a hotel, and now maid.

But then her husband walked in.

That hunk of all-American man pushed all of my buttons. He had all the ingredients I was looking for. Hot. Rich. Sexy. But he was too good of a guy to glance at my displayed cleavage. I would just have to wait him out till the only thing he could stare at was my tits. I would continue to act like to the stupid Mexican immigrant slut until he realized that is what he always wanted.

I couldn't wait to get to work.


I looked into the mirror, admiring the reflection. I wanted to make sure I presented the right image for my first day of work. But most importantly, I wanted to make sure this bra really pushed my tits out. I mean, I have really big ones, big DD's, so soft and supple, so they didn't need much help. I mean, these tits got me the job. I knew the simple truth that all girls knew: Not showing enough cleavage could be the difference between being an also-ran to being the leading candidate for the job. But I didn't want to get too slutty, as I knew the wife would be there as well, and I didn't want to intimidate her with my awesome tits. I'm sure that hunk of man Troy at the very least noticed them, even though he didn't stare like a dog. I'm sure he pushed his wife to hire me in the hope of seeing a bit more skin, so why not give him what he wants.

I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair looked amazing, long straight, dark black, down to my mid-back. My face looked perfect, my make-up subtle but good. I fingered my tits in my bra, satisfied with my cleavage. It was the best bra I owned, but it was a good one, lacy and black. I ran my fingers down my silky smooth, golden brown belly, down to my undies. My teeny tiny black thong, splitting my round ass cheeks perfectly.

I slipped on a tank top, checking my cleavage. Not overwhelming, but I could pull my top down to show off more if I needed to. Satisfied with it, I slipped on some jeans, making sure they were snug, and highlighted my assets.

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byTheTalkMan© 30 comments/ 240509 views/ 175 favorites

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