Milla took three deep breaths as the elevator took her up to the penthouse. She knew she would have to step outside herself to do this job, way outside herself. She promised that she would be strong throughout, as this was her only choice and would be over in two weeks time.
The ad had called for a full-time, live-in servant. If it were as simple as that she would not have been so nervous, but that the ad specified an "attractive, open-minded female that has little problem taking orders" meant that more than just cleaning and cooking would be require of her, she was sure. Also, Milla had to send pictures of herself to secure the job. And of course the ridiculous pay indicated something else.
She fiddled with her long, dark, curly locks as the lift took her to the 77th floor. Even as she moved to America three years ago, she knew that her beauty would be her best asset in times of desperation. She had hoped it wouldn't come to this, of course, but her mother had just been taken from this world after long health battles, leaving 20 year-old Milla with two younger siblings to care for and a mountain of bills to pay.
Gratefully, her 18 year-old sister Johanna was mature enough to care for eight year-old Sven. She had left their small apartment on the dirty side of town this morning telling Johanna little in detail of the situation, only that she would return in several weeks with the money to take care of them all.
At last the elevator reached the top floor and the doors opened onto the sort of spacious and modern luxury that one would expect in a penthouse in New York City. Milla barely had a second to peer around her surroundings before the vision of a tall dark-suited and dark-haired man appeared before her.
A slow smile spread on his face, revealing perfect white teeth. "Milla, it is a pleasure to meet you."
Shyly, Milla drew her violet eyes to meet his, "Mr. Skylar?" she asked.
"Indeed," he said with the same amused grin. "Please join me in the sitting room. Would you like a drink?"
Milla nodded and clutched her handbag tightly. "Water, please." He gestured for her to have a seat, and she took in the sleek colors and lines of the space while she waited for his return. She had never seen with her own eyes any place so rich and smart looking. To her, it looked like a set from a movie.
Mr. Skylar returned with two glasses and took a set across from her. "So, Milla, have you considered why it is that I'm offering $350 a day for a housekeeper?" he began.
Milla could not meet his eyes. "Of course."
Skylar grinned. "Good, then you are not a fool. Let me just say that I am a man of ...unusual tastes, and that your duties here will require you to be compliant with them. All I can do now is to promise that I will not harm you, and that you are free to leave whenever you want. How does that sound?"
Milla's eyes darted to him briefly. She sighed inwardly, thinking it could be worse. She had no choice but to trust him, or she and her siblings would be thrown out on the street at the end of the month. "That sounds fair, sir," she said.
He smiled warmly. "I'm pleased to hear that. Your first duty will be to report to my doctor for a full check-up. My chauffeur is downstairs waiting for you as we speak." He lead her to the elevator doors without another word.
Milla's head was spinning as she took the elevator back down. She had never seen a doctor in her life, having been delivered in a small village by a midwife, and blessed with good health. But she was not ignorant of such things as diseases, and understood why Mr. Skylar might want her to be examined.
The chauffeur was curt and professional, but Milla sensed a hint of condescension under his eyes. She shuddered, thinking herself a whore now, too. At least Mr. Skylar wasn't creepy and disgusting, she thought. Perhaps in his late thirties, he had a handsome face and seemed to take good care of himself.
The doctor's visit was unpleasant, to say the least. Dr. Klein had her strip naked in front of him and stand under his scrutiny, all bright lights and surgical tools. He took some measurements and asked her personal questions. Then she was told to lie on a table with her feet in stirrups, and Milla wanted to hide in shame. She fought back the tears, knowing she would have to undergo much worse, and soon.
"When was it that you lost your virginity, Milla?" the doctor asked, his fingers probing her vagina.
"Two years ago," she said, her Romanian accent still thick in her voice.
He curled his fingers around inside of her. She wondered how long this would go on. "Please tell me the circumstance," Dr. Klein requested.
"I was working at a deli, and befriended a co-worked. We fell in love," she explained. At her words, his fingers stroked her insides in such a way that she felt a spark, as if it were Daniel himself who was stroking her.
"Do you still maintain relations with this man?" he asked and pushed another finger deep inside her.
She gasped. "...no, he left for university."
"Have there been any others?" He withdrew his finger and inserted a metal object into her that seemed to stretch her wide.
"No," she squirmed, preferring the warmth of fingers to the cold metal.
He said nothing as he inserted his fingers back inside her, feeling around deeper now. Some other instruments were produced and she felt a brief, sharp cramp somewhere deep inside. "Very good," he said and took out the speculum. "Please turn over now."
Wordless, Milla did as she was told and the doctor again placed her feet in stirrups. "Are you prepared to follow all orders and instructions given to you by Mr. Skylar?" he asked.
Milla gulped but said yes. "Very good. Just relax now." He coated his finger with something slick and oily. With one hand he spread her ass cheeks apart, and the other spread the oily stuff around the hole of her anus. His coated finger slipped just barely into the hole, and Milla gasped.
"Don't worry, Milla, I am just preparing your anus for the long nozzle of an enema bag." His finger slipped deeper into her asshole, working vigorously in and out to coat her inner walls with lubricant. "Please, relax," he purred, and slipped the whole of his finger inside her. A short burst of pain subsided, leaving a surprised Milla with feelings of desire once again. Before she could wonder what was happening to her, he withdrew his finger and inserted something skinny, and long. He filled her with fluid until she could not take the pain any longer, and then she emptied herself in a basin he provided.
"Very good, my dear. I think Mr. Skylar will be quite happy with you." Then the doctor told her to dress, and she was promptly sent back to the penthouse.
Milla was clearly flushed upon her return, and that pleased Mr. Skylar. He couldn't have wished for a more beautiful girl. She was tall and leggy with luscious curves. She had the pale face of an angel and the wild mane of a devil. His ears craved the delicate sound of her accent. On top of it all, she had the sweet, shy, and willing to please disposition that made him very hungry indeed.
"Did you enjoy your doctor's visit, Milla?" he asked.
She blushed and looked down. "Not exactly," the sarcasm barely detectable in her voice.
"Well, I'm glad to announce that you are clean and ready to begin working. I have your uniform ready laid out in the powder room," he said and led her to the proper door.
As the door clicked shut behind her Milla leaned her forehead into the wall and let out several quick, frantic breaths. She could submit to the doctor's examination, surely she could put on an outfit...and...again her breath was faint. As she turned to view her outfit, she wished she had the guts to rob a bank.
Her uniform was not so much clothing as it was a harness made of dark brown leather cords. One cord tucked into her ass cheeks and through her pussy lips, splaying her open. This cord connected to the breast harness, which pushed forth her already large, firm tits. When she walked, the cord between her legs rubbed in clit in a teasing sort of way.
Milla looked at herself in the mirror and nearly began to cry. She saw that she was beautiful, sexy, and selling it to a stranger. Her body and mind froze until there was a knock on the door.
"Milla? Are you having trouble with your outfit?" Mr. Skylar asked.
A moment passed. "Would you please come out now? Remember, I have many other willing applicants for this job."
Milla's hand found the doorknob and slowly turned it. Just outside, her boss was waiting with eager eyes.
"Stand up straight," he requested, but kindly. She did so. "You are breathtaking," he said. "But we cannot do with all that hair," he said.
She looked into his eyes, defiant. "I will not cut my hair."
He smiled at this. "Not the hair on your head, my dear. Please, follow me." He had her lay down on a high table, with a pillow propped up under her hips. He placed her feet in stirrups much like those at the doctor's office.
Milla was shivering in self-disgust, but Mr. Skylar was delicate, first with scissors to remain the bulk of her bush, then lather warm cream all over her most sensitive areas. His hand was steady with the razor, even more clinical than the doctor had been earlier that day. She relaxed considerably as he made her pussy and anus bare and smooth. Only when he the job was complete did a smile come upon his face. The warmth of his voice near her opening, he whispered, "beautiful." But he did not touch her again.
The rest of the afternoon he assigned her simple housework, sweeping and dusting. He was nearly always present in the room he asked her to work on, though he kept his head in paperwork and computers, she caught him peeking at her often. They did not speak until the sun was nearly down, when he said, "you will be my guest at a social event this evening. Please wash yourself and come to me when you are clean. You need not get back in your uniform, as I have another outfit for you."
Milla simply nodded and retreated to the bath, grateful that he was not intent on brutally raping her first thing. She took her time washing her hair and scrubbing her body, and she found that she liked the clean, smooth skin of her pussy, so much so that she began touching herself. How she could be aroused when she felt she should be ashamed, she did not know, but images from the day flashed through her mind. The doctors' fingers working deep inside of her. The feel of the leather strap pushing her pussy lips apart. The feel of warmth when Mr. Skylar whispered into her slit. Her fingers worked fast and silently, and quickly she slumped over in satisfaction.
She hastened her shower after that, being careful to rinse the juices of her arousal from her cunt. She wasn't sure why, but she had a feeling that her new boss would be dissatisfied if he knew of her pleasure. After she'd dried off, she found Skylar on his armchair in the sitting room. She thought that he would ask her to remove the towel she had wrapped around her, but to her surprise, he did not.
"There is a small changing room to the right of the master bedroom. My assistant Greta will be waiting to help you into your outfit." He barely lifted his eyes from his paper.
Milla left wordlessly. Perhaps he would be kind if she resisted little. Greta was indeed waiting for her, a petite blonde woman with a stern look. "No fussing now," she said. "Take off the towel."
Milla dropped the towel. "First thing, you need to face me and put your foot up on the counter." Milla did so without comment, spreading open her privates once again.
Greta dropped to her knees and wasted no time in pushing a smooth object at the lips of her womanhood. With a gentle nudge the object slipped into her, it seemed to be about the size and shape of an egg.
Then it was on with an impossibly short black pleated skirt, garters, and a bustier that covered her breasts in sheer mesh fabric. No panties. A pair of black heeled boots completed the look. Greta then scooped half of the young girl's hair onto her head, applied some dark eyeliner and a coat of shiny lip gloss. Milla hardly recognized herself. Again, she felt equal parts shame and pride. More than anything, she felt trepidation about going out in public dressed as such.
Before Greta took her leave, she patted Milla on the cheek gently. "Good luck," she said, and for the first time, Milla felt she was interacting with a real human being. She forced a half-smile and went out to meet her master.
"How do you feel, Milla?" Mr. Skylar asked with bright eyes.
She shook her head. "I do not want to be in public like this."
"No harm will come of you, I promise." He helped her on with a long black overcoat, and lead her towards his car. "This event is a private party of a close friend," he said while driving. "You will obey all guests as you would me. Do you understand?" he asked.
He smiled and sat back. This girl was perfect.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Mr. Skylar had Milla remove the overcoat the moment they stepped into another posh apartment. There were several dozen well-dressed businessmen milling about, as well as a few girls who looked to be in the same predicament as her.
Milla did not know what to do so she stuck by Skylar's side. He was making the rounds, introducing her as "his pet". She remained silent while his friends ogled her. "Exquisite, isn't she?" he remarked several times. And his friends could only agree.
She had to admit there was a secret thrill in being so admired. The cool night air made her nipples poke through the mesh of her shirt, and the pressure of the egg in her vagina was just enough to keep her on the edge of excitement. While a few of the men whispered her their secret desires, little else happened. Milla slowly sipped a glass of wine and relaxed slightly.
"Wow, your girl sure has some sweet titties," Milla heard a short blond man announce to her boss.
Skylar smiled. "I agree, wholeheartedly. Would you like to sample?" he asked.
This, of course, raised instant alarm for Milla. Was she to be auctioned off like some object? For the hundredth time that day, she bit back her anger and pride as the stranger stood in front of her and cupped her barely-clad tits in his hands. "Milla, please pull down your top for Mr. Andrews."
She nodded once and complied. At that moment she felt a sudden vibration start in her pussy, the egg, it was pulsing. She felt a drop of moisture gather below as her nipples stood at full attention.
Mr Andrews groaned in appreciation, unaware of the vibrating egg. He ran his fingers over the tips of her nipples, gently, once, and then began tugging at them between his thumbs and forefingers. They were in the middle of a well-lit, crowded room; Milla flushed and nearly ran to lock herself in a bathroom. But again she realized that a secret part of her liked this treatment, and wanted more.
She nearly moaned when he bent his head to her breasts and suckled loudly. The speed of the vibrator increased as did Mr. Andrews' speed and suction. This hurt her sensitive nipples in such a good way, she visibly squirmed. That was when the vibrator was turned off suddenly, and Mr. Skylar announced, "enough."
Mr. Andrews looked up at Milla with hungry eyes. "It was a pleasure to meet you," he said, and walked away.
After that display there was a veritable line to see Mr. Skylar. One by one he let his friends "sample his toy", and Milla's nipples were tongued, sucked and nibbled to near exhaustion. The vibrator would switch on at the beginnings of these ministrations, and always off suddenly when she showed signs of arousal. Milla noticed that Skylar was watching for this, so she would feign arousal with the clumsy ones and bite back reactions with the skilled. But he caught on to this before too long, and she was left hot, sweaty, and unsatisfied.
They left the party near midnight. Alone again with Mr. Skylar, she was suddenly flush with shame that she let her weakness show.
"That wasn't so bad, was it, Milla?" he asked.
"No, sir," she said stone cold.
He chuckled lightly. She was obviously a sensual girl, but could not hand herself over to this completely. "May I ask you, Milla, why it is that you want to work for me?"
Milla blinked her eyes. "It is a matter of money," was all she said. He might get to know her intimately in the physical sense, but he would never get to know her.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Milla became accustomed to Mr. Skylar over the next few days. She pranced in front of him wearing next-to-nothing, but he was kind enough and he did not touch her. She slept in a small barren room connected to his room by a balcony. After she'd been dismissed at night, she'd often watch the city from her corner of the balcony wearing the only other clothing she'd been given access to: a sheer, thin white teddy.
She discovered that she liked dressing sexy far more than she thought, especially now that it didn't seem sex was expected of her. She would pleasure herself to sleep at night, and she became used to being petted by Mr. Skylar's friends, a few times to the point where she wished they wouldn't stop. More than anything, she wished she could be with Daniel again and find her utter fulfillment.
She shrugged and continued on with her light duties. All in all, this situation could be much worse, and this sacrifice was worth it to help her brother and sister.
Five days after her arrival and it had started to feel routine. They had just finished eating dinner together in silence. The food had been prepared by the cook, Marcos. She was used to his rough, hungry fingers in her pussy, and had even grown to like it. She had just cleared the table and was ready to be told to prepare him his evening glass of scotch, and receive a good fondling from Marcos, when Mr. Skylar surprised her by saying, "Milla, please follow me."
He lead her down the hall to a room she'd never seen the inside of. Before he opened the door, he pulled a scrap of heavy black material, told her to turn around, and blindfolded her with it.
She was lead into the room and seated on the edge of a smooth wooden something. "Are you nervous, Milla?" he asked.
She did not hesitate. "A little."
"Your honesty serves you well. Have you wondered why I have not tried to touch you yet, Milla?"
She faltered for a moment, then answered, "...yes."
"It's not that I haven't wanted to," he confessed. "I simply needed to know for certain that you are the right one for this job. And you have proven yourself well."
"Please lay back now, Milla." He guided her gently with his hand as he said this. Then attached something around both her wrists and ankles. Milla's heart pounded in her chest. Skylar clipped something to each of her wrists so that they were splayed out to her sides like a T. Then her ankles were hung overhead and wide apart, but her back still rested comfortably on the table.
She could feel the cool air on her wide open pussy, and could sense the heat of his body nearby. "How do you feel now, Milla?" he asked.
She gulped. "Quite uncertain, sir."
"Clearly, you don't know if I am to hurt you or please you. Tell me, Milla, which would you prefer?"
Milla bit her tongue back. She felt fairly certain that this man would not hurt her, badly at least. Was it better to be a whore or a slave? Her body answered for her, as she found her vulnerable position was turning her on. "I would prefer to be let go. I can fix you your scotch, if you like."
Mr. Skylar laughed. "Perhaps I put this off too long, my pet. You can, of course, quit this job right now, and I will send you off with all your belongings and your fair pay..." he let the offer trail in the air.
She did not have to calculate to know that even that fine sum would not be enough to pay off the debt. She remained silent.