The Maid

"Oh, hey," I said, snapping out of my tit-soaked daze. "I can do that."

"It would be rude to make you do it." She said, and her smile was something that I felt run from my eyes all the way to my cock. I watched her ass intently as she bent over and put the plates in the bottom rack. The woman made those pants talk. I was glad I had a table to sit at because my loose slacks were getting tight in bad places.

I counted to ten and thought about baseball to distract myself as she walked back to the table. She sat across from me and rested her tits on her elbows and I realized I didn't know shit about baseball.

I watched those huge tits bulge against her shirt as they settled. My cock was trying to burst out of my pants like those facehugger aliens from that old movie. Jesus, was there something in the air inside this house? I had spent a total of four hours in their home by that point, and more than three of them had been with an embarrassingly intense erection.

"I also wanted to tell you," she said, looking me directly in the eye and silently daring me to look at her tits again, "Carlos was very happy with your work too."

The bottom fell out of my stomach and I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead.

She walked over to where I was sitting in my flop sweat. Effortlessly she spun my seat around to face her. I could no longer hide my suspiciously lumpy lap under the table.

She leaned into me so her tits pressed heavily into my chest. I could feel their weight on my body and her lips were right at my ear when she breathed "Especially when he came in your mouth."

I felt all the blood drain out of my face. My heart went from a normal beat to a fast purr. I could feel her tits through my shirt, and my cock was practically bouncing inside my pants. I knew I was breathing hard, but couldn't stop myself. I was pinned to the chair, her arms bracketing me on both sides as she pressed into my body and softly sucked my earlobe into her mouth.

"But, if you're going to work here, you're going to need to wear your uniform." She stood up suddenly and quickly. I was left in the chair, shaking, sweaty, and painfully erect. I didn't see where she went because I was trying to catch my breath, but a small bundle of clothes fell in my lap. Even folded up, I could see it was a maid's uniform.

Well, it would have been, if there was more of it. There was a half-shirt, a miniskirt with suspenders, a tiny apron with frills, and knee-high stockings. I could have probably fit the whole thing into a wallet.

"Put it on." Said Matilda, in a stern voice that cut through my thoughts and had me on my feet before I even realized I was moving. "You're on the clock."

I turned to leave, and she yelled at me, sharp and piercing. "Where are you going? I gave you your instructions!"

"I'm I'm I'm just going to the bathroom to change!" I said, desperately.

"Put. It. On." She said, low and mean. I suddenly understood exactly what she meant.

"But . . . I . . ." My shirt was stuck to my back with sweat. If I so much as unzipped my pants halfway, my cock was going to spring free like a horse from a barn. But I wasn't being given a choice, I was being given a command. With my stomach squeezing inside out, I pulled off my shirt and began unbuckling my belt. My nipples were hard, bunched up tight as I felt the air moving past them.

"Faster!" She barked, and I hopped on one foot trying to get my pants off over my shoe. It went about as well as you'd think, and I fell on my ass, one leg in the air, still tangled in my pants.

"God dammit." She sighed, and marched over to stand above me, blocking out the light. "Are you really too stupid to do one, simple thing?" Her strong arms yanked my leg upright, excised my shoe, and relieved me of my pants. They went flying across the room as she threw them carelessly aside. Only my underwear was keeping me from being naked as the day I was born. The cold linoleum pressed against my ass, and I watched in horror as her eyes fell on my cock, tenting up my briefs like a beanpole. My body decided I wasn't humiliated enough and my balls chose that moment to pulse and send a delivery of pre-cum into my Fruit of the Looms. We both watched the cumstain begin to spread from the peak of my dick tent.

"Are you *kidding* me?" She hissed.

I saw her raise her foot, but I wasn't quite aware of what was happening until she ground her shoe against my dick, painfully and mercilessly. I squealed like a pig getting a brand. Yelling, I squirmed away. My underwear bunched off my ass to drag between my legs uselessly, leaving my guilt-boner out and free, sticky with my own shame cum. She ripped those old briefs off me like they were paper, and I was naked. Like, naked naked, cowering on the floor, surrounded by the maid's uniform. My uniform.

Matilda kneeled down between my legs, forcing them open. She took my hard penis in her hand and squeezed, really tightly. I felt the head of my cock swell until I felt like it might pop, and I cried out at the painful pressure. "You had better get rid of this, " she thumped my dick with her forefinger, "before you put on your expensive uniform. I won't tolerate stains."

I did what I could as I gathered the tiny outfit in my hands. My erection bobbed stubbornly as I put on the little skirt and pulled on my tight, white crop top before fastening the suspenders up over my shoulders. The stockings were a little difficult, I'd never worn any before, but I got them over my thighs eventually. There was no underwear with the uniform, and my cock made a ridiculous tent of the miniskirt.

She glared at me as I stood before her, blushing and sweaty. I had no idea why I was putting up with this, other than my bills were due and I had no way of paying them. Was it worth all this, I wondered, desperately hoping my erection would fade already.

Coming up behind me, I was briefly delighted at the feel of her breasts pushing against my back. Then her hand was on my cock and stroking hard, with no lube of any sort. "I thought I told you to get rid of this obscene erection," she said in my ear. "You're terrible at listening to directions, it seems. But I'll get the lesson into your head." Her hand went faster, the friction painful but not painful enough to eclipse the pleasure. I couldn't help but gasp.

"If your cock is hard, you can't focus. You don't have enough brain cells to do both. So I'm gonna make sure my maid cleans the house right, and doesn't fuck it up. Because when her cock is hard, she can't think straight." I was so focused on what she was doing to my dick, I didn't even hear her misgender me. I couldn't quite decide if I liked the way her hand felt - hot and stinging - but my penis was rock hard and pointing straight out. I looked down and saw precum oozing all over and dripping on the floor.

"You're a stubborn girl, aren't you?" She hissed in my ear. I caught it that time, and I turned my head to correct her. But before I could, my ass was suddenly invaded by her finger. I squawked out loud. "Looks like we have to get the cum out of you the hard way," she said, pressing her finger into me and pushing on things deep inside. I could hear the cruel smile in her voice.

She was rude about fingering my ass, wedging her digit into my hole deep and fast. My sphincter stung from the stretch and I yelped at the immense feeling of being suddenly penetrated. I felt my knees go a little rubbery, and it was only the pressure of her tight grip on my erection that kept me on my feet.

The first finger was just to open my butt up. The second was for proper leverage as she pressed on my prostate like a button labeled 'free money.' "Hurry the fuck up." She barked, somehow jerking me off even faster.

So, I came. God help me, I came. I think I was making some kind of animal noises, but I couldn't hear them. The friction fire of her stroking was bright and hot and hurt a lot, but my cock was blasting cum all over the floor. Her fingers in my ass kept rubbing the bean of my prostate, making my balls spasm and pump cum in steady, thick, gobs. I wobbly stood on weak knees, cumming helplessly and feeling my ass stretched wide open.

My ears were ringing as the post-cum clarity set in. My cock was on fire, rubbed raw and angry. My ass was aching, my hole feeling bruised. I was kneeling in front of a two-foot, fan-shaped spatter of my semen, sprayed out over the kitchen floor. What the fuck was I doing?

I felt her strong hand on the back of my head, and my face was pushed relentlessly towards the puddle of cum on the ground. I barely turned my face in time to keep my nostrils clear as she pressed me down into my own jizz. It was still warm. I breathed some in, making me cough and snort. My vision went stinging and blurry as my right eye sank completely beneath the wet, gluey surface.

"You're here to clean," I heard her say. "Start right there."

For a brief, silly moment I thought she meant with a rag or something. But as my mouth worked and I got a taste of my own cum, I realized I was going to have to clean the floor the same way I cleaned Carlos' leg: with my tongue. I had never really eaten my own cum before, and now here I was, licking up my second load in less than a week. It wasn't unpleasant, salty and still warm, just slimy and thick. Some of it was hard to lick up. I had to literally suck some thicker blobs up off the floor, slurping and gulping.

When I was done, or rather, when I was done to her satisfaction, I heard her get up and walk away. "Finish cleaning the kitchen," she called out, "then the living room. You will see me after and we will review your work." She looked back at me over her shoulder. "Don't let me catch sight of that wretched cock again."

The costume made cleaning a little awkward. It didn't cover very much, and it didn't offer much in the way of pockets or utilitarian comforts. But I kept my electric bill firmly in mind as I scrubbed the sink and swept the floors. What's a little cum-eating compared to the peace of mind that comes with knowing your utilities will stay on another month, right? Besides, it's not like my cum tasted that bad.

The kitchen was sparking and the living room was neat as a pin when I went upstairs to let Matilda know I was done. She was in her bedroom, and before I even got to the door, I could hear that she was watching porn. I felt my traitorous dick stir again, even with the light abrasions she'd left me with.

The bedroom was done in magenta tones, with a gorgeous bedspread of rich auburn and plum. One wall was dominated by a ridiculously large television which was currently displaying a freckled woman with semen covering most of her face. As I watched, a cock moved into frame and deposited another load, filling her smiling mouth with a thick mat of goo.

"Are you done?" Asked Matilda from the enormous bed. She was laying back, legs spread, openly rubbing her pussy through her panties. She wasn't looking at me in the slightest, her attention was on the screen behind me. I could hear the movie playing the sounds of four men jerking off and grunting.

"Yes, miss. I'm done." I figured it would pay to be as contrite as possible. I knew I was going to have problems with my cock already, as it was responding to Matilda *and* the wet orgasm noises in the background. I could feel it swelling, even after the intense load I'd cleaned up downstairs. I knew I needed to get out of there as quickly as I could.

"This is my husband's pornography," she said, pressing her fingers into her pussy through the soft fabric of her underwear. "He likes cumshot porn. The sort with an absurd amount of semen. Like the load you shot on him."

I opened my mouth to protest, but she barked at me to shut my mouth . . . so I shut my mouth. "Look at that poor girl on the screen." She commanded. "Do you think she likes sitting there while all those men empty themselves onto her?"

I turned to look at the huge screen, craning my neck up to look at the subject of the film, now barely recognizable under a thick, cummy mass. I watched a faceless penis-haver jerk off and add somehow even more, then quickly get out of frame. From what I could see, the woman was smiling. I mean, you know, in between the swallowing so she could breathe, that is. "I think she does, yes."

"Do you think she likes being treated like a cummy little whore? Kneeling in cum, feeling it pool in her lap?" Matilda's breathing was getting ragged behind me, the bed creaking rhythmically with her hand. "Do you think she likes shitting cum for a week?"

What do you say when your possibly crazy boss asks you a question like that while making you watch porn in a maid's uniform with garters? You fucking say yes, that's what.

"Yes. I think she likes being the cum hole for them. I think she likes it most when she can swallow some too." My heart pounded at the brazen words I was saying.

"She's a whore," hissed Matilda, her cunt sounding soupy and soaked. "Her whole purpose is a receptacle. She only has value when there's cum to be eaten. Isn't that fucking right?" The bed was creaking faster, and there was a thick, wet sound as she wedged what sounded like half her hand in her cunt. "And she fucking loves it, doesn't she?"

I watched the woman on the screen lap up an absurdly large load of sperm from a mirror and grin a tired, but enthusiastic smile. A thick gob of syrupy cum drooled from her mouth for a couple of wet inches before she slurped it back up and swallowed. I listened to Matilda's frantic masturbating behind me, her breathing hissing between her harsh questions. I felt my cock blast back into life, making another ridiculous tent of my skirt.

"She absolutely loves it, miss. She knows that's all she's good for, but she still wants to be the best. I can see why your husband likes it, she's a good, uh, a good whore. Cum whore. She's a good cum whore." I was kind of reaching for things to say and my dick wasn't making it any easier to think on my feet. Or these wedge heels, for that matter.

"Look at me, you filthy bitch." I heard her say, and I honestly wasn't sure if she was talking to me or the woman on the screen. I decided to turn around anyway.

She had ditched the underwear at some point and was working two fingers in and out of her very wet pussy. My cock noticed this before I'd really had time to process what I was looking at, and it throbbed a bit of pre-cum out of me. I felt it slowly trickle down my cockhead before dripping to the floor.

"Tell me how much she loves being just a mouth with tits. Fucking tell me!"

"She's only happy when her face is slimy and warm!" I blurted. "She wants the first taste of the day to be cum, and jizz to be the last thing she eats at night. No questions asked, just loads eaten. I'm totally jealous of how happy she is."

If you asked me where that came from, I couldn't tell you.

"Fffuckkk . . ." moaned the woman on the bed, before her hips suddenly jerked and her pussy squirted a hot stream of liquid four feet across the room. She gasped and writhed and hammered her fingers in and out of her as her vagina convulsed and heaved. I watched her left foot curl into a tight little fist while she shuddered all over.

She lay there for a good five minutes, just breathing and slowly rotating her hips. Her hand made these wet slurping noises as she worked her shiny-wet fingers slowly through her swollen pussy lips. I didn't know what else to do, so I listened to the porn behind me while she recovered her breath before looking up. My cock continued to throb, painfully and insistent.

"What the fuck are you still doing here?" She asked. "You want to get paid, is that it?" She reached over and produced a purse from I don't know where and threw a handful of crumpled bills at me. "Get out. Take that filthy, drippy erection out of my sight."

I grabbed my money, and I got the fuck out.

Somehow I got home and changed. I sat in my room, on the edge of the bed and looked at the wrinkled fan of bills in my hand. They were some large bills. I was holding enough money to pay off all my utilities and make rent. With a little left over, if I was shrewd.

I mean, it wasn't a life-changing amount of money or anything, but it was more physical cash than I'd ever actually held in my own hands before.

There was an immense feeling of relief that washed over me. I took a look at the itty bitty uniform they'd given me, and I was actually able to smile at the thing. It had been a weird day, but it had ended on a high note, and I was a little startled to realize my cock was still hard.

I figured I deserved a treat, and I decided to enjoy myself with a good, old-fashioned wank. I lay back and stoked myself and my thoughts kept returning to the immense screen. I thought about the freckled woman who had been just demolished by cum at the end of the scene. I thought about the way her mouth had worked as she swallowed, how she'd had to snort blobs of cum out of her nose every now and then. I stroked myself faster and faster as I remembered the way the endless dicks had just been pouring their cum on her, one after the other. I thought about how it must have taken a room full of guys all jerking off together to be able to get that much cum into one person.

That thought pushed me past the point of no return. I gleefully pumped my dick towards release, thinking about the way my eye had sunk into a pool of my own cum. I thought to myself that *I* had been a good little cumslut too. I didn't even realize I'd shot cum across the top of my head until I woke up stuck to my own pillow.

***

Okay, so, yes, I knew it was really weird. Yes, I realized it was not an orthodox job. I was pretty sure other people with regular jobs didn't eat cum as part of their duties. But I also knew that I didn't have to worry about money for a little while, and that really eased the weirdness, you know? It was weird.

Even so, I hesitated when Tuesday rolled around and I got a text from Carlos. He asked me if I'd be able to stop by and do another cleaning run of the house. We texted back and forth, getting specifics for what they wanted done. He asked me how I felt about doing laundry and possibly yardwork in the future. In general, we had a pleasant conversation. The only odd note was his final instruction. "Be pretty," he'd said.

A stack of money has a way of cutting through most objections. I decided that if this was going to be how the job was, then I was going to make the best of it. It's not like it was just a weird sex thing. There was legitimate work. I was doing an actual job and making actual money to pay my bills.

That's what I told myself anyway, as I bought eyeliner and foundation and lipliner. I kept telling myself that, as I watched YouTube videos on blending and smoky eye wings and how to match my foundation to my complexion.

When the day rolled around, I got up and got in the shower and felt good about myself. I dried off and noticed my pubes had gotten real bushy over time. I'd never really noticed my own pubic hair before, but the more I looked at it, the more I realized it was a little crude and ugly. I looked at myself good and hard in the mirror for ten minutes and then I shaved off every body hair I could reach.

After I was smooth and rinsed, I set out to do my makeup. I'd found a grey and sparkly eyeliner that matched the black-and-white maid uniform, I'd gotten my hair trimmed in a layered cut, framing my face. I'd shined the wedge heel shoes into a mirror finish and made sure my cock wasn't visible at all in the skirt, although there was no hiding the white lace panties I'd added. I had to admit, I looked really cute. So cute, I decided that I was going to drive to their house in my uniform.

I should have known something was up when the house was pretty much clean and neat when I walked in. A quick peek in the laundry room revealed no piles of clothing that needed to be washed. It was quiet and orderly and nobody was around on the ground floor as far as I could tell. As I walked by the stairs, I heard voices of some sort coming from the upper hallway. Down by the bedrooms.