Of course, maybe he felt bad about such things, as she had all the money in the relationship. Her family, the Haus Agency, oversaw the operations of a number of security firms all across the world. Simon had never murmured a word of dissatisfaction over Hayley’s wealth, nor had he ever once asked her for money. That was well enough—though Hayley loved having power over him, loved being able to make all their collective financial decisions because she controlled such a vast portion of their money. His writing earnings were small, but enough for him to pay his own way, most of the time.
Certainly, however, he didn’t earn enough to pay for a Castle Maid. Hayley had to put up one hundred thousand dollars just to have the tour of the facilities. It would be another several hundred thousand still, before the day was done, depending on which Maid model they decided to purchase.
At any rate, her hope was that having another female around might spice up his sex drive. It was only natural, after all, for a man presented with multiple mates to feel his desires grow.
Without a doubt, Hayley didn't view herself as part of the problem. She was a tall, lovely woman. When she was younger, she had been a gymnast, and had kept most of that flexibility and slender form. Her hair was sandy blond, kept stylishly short with her bangs floating down around her dark hazelnut eyes. Her breasts, while not huge, were still a sumptuous B cup, and didn't detract from her legs and ass, which she felt were her best features.
She didn't like to think of herself in such objectifying terms, of course, but it was hard not to when she was trying to get Simon to jump her bones more often.
In her circles—those of the ultra-rich—it was was well-known that Castle Maids were the number one way to increase sexual activity in a household. With a Castle Maid in the house, women felt more confident than ever, men felt much much more confident than ever, and to top it off, the household had a servant who only had to be purchased one time, and ever after would be obediently cleaning, cooking, sucking and fucking at any old time of the day.
It sounded like the ideal arrangement for Hayley. She didn't want to have to work through the ordeal of finding some magical unicorn—a bisexual girl who was disease-free and happy to be the third wheel in a relationship. No, a Castle Maid was the way to go. Simon had his doubts, citing some strange incidents where the women in Castle Maid households were rumored to become raving nymphomaniacs and the men started fucking everything that moved, but it was Hayley's money, so that was that.
Hayley, having been on the shit-end of a number of horrible rumors as she grew up and suffered through her snobbish prep schools, did not put much stock in hearsay. Besides, the Castle Maid representative she had spoken with over the phone had been very reassuring.
Resolutely holding her man's arm, Hayley approached the tall double doors of the building. The outline of Hayley’s form—displayed fetchingly in a red wool jacket and tight red skirt, displaying her long legs—contrasted sharply with the deep blue of the doors.
She had always been known for her legs. They went on until next Tuesday, or so many of her suitors had said. Simon had fallen in love with her over her brains.
Maybe that was why she had allowed him to stick with her.
Definitely, though, that was why she wanted a little more from him in the bedroom. Simon was an excellent lovemaker. He did everything Hayley asked. But sometimes Hayley just wanted to be fucked, and brutally.
With a long, creaking moan, the double doors opened. Inside was a tall, bare room the color of steel. In the middle was a circular metallic desk, manned by a gorgeous young redhead in a tiny, bright white dress.
“Hello!” she chirped. “You must be the Sandersons!”
“Simon Sanderson,” said Simon, holding out his hand. “This is Hayley Haus.”
“Oh!” the redhead took Simon’s hand. She bit her lip, as if the act of touching him had excited her somehow. Hayley wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that it did. “You’re not married?”
Simon smiled. “No.”
Not yet, thought Hayley. But soon. I'll make him ask.
“It’s just...usually we get married couples coming in, if we get couples at all. Most often, it’s single men. Though, last month we had three single women come in! We were very surprised. Word certainly gets around!”
“Yes,” said Simon, clutching his hands together. “I actually wanted to ask about that. Is there any reason to worry? I don’t feel like this is, well...”
The redhead looked at him brightly, blankly, waiting for her turn to speak. His sentence hadn’t finished, after all.
“Not strictly legal?”
A tall brunette woman entered the room, twice as beautiful as the redhead, making Hayley feel positively clownish. This brunette's every last feature was proportional, perfect. Her breasts, displayed in a low-cut blouse, looked polished.
“Yes,” said Simon. He held out his hand again. “Hello. I’m Simon, and—”
“This is Hayley, yes. I am Svetlana.”
She slowly eyed Simon up and down, and then Hayley, taking notes on a small clipboard in her hands. Simon let his hand fall, good-naturedly.
“Is there anything else I can do for you folks?” The redhead smiled, looking with some urgency at her computer. “I...have duties...”
The redhead had taken to grabbing at her overflowing tits, desperate to sit back down. Curious, Hayley walked over to the side of her desk. On the redhead’s computer was an animated kitten bouncing about, playing with a pink ball of yarn.
“That will be all, Sally,” said Svetlana. She focused on the couple. “Will you please follow me?”
She stepped through a door, guiding the couple into a long metal corridor. Hayley was happy to have an excuse to admire Svetlana’s behind. She was a confirmed bisexual, and could not contain her excitement.
They were here! Getting a Castle Maid! Her heart raced. She wanted more than anything to have an easy, hot piece of female ass around the house to fuck and use as she saw fit. And Simon too, of course. He would be allowed to join in on the fun at any time, so long as he asked nicely.
They passed through one hallway and then another. Lasers scanned over them briefly, mirrors on the walls disguising guard posts, most likely. Security was taken seriously, it appeared.
“As you intimated, Mr. Sanderson,” said Svetlana, not looking at the couple, “this is not a legal business. Very lucrative, however. You’d be surprised how many people want a willing, eager fucktoy in their houses, obeying their every last order.” She smiled, opening the next door. “Though, perhaps not.”
“Were you...you know. Brainwashed?” Hayley asked. “Transformed?”
Svetlana stopped. “Of course I was.”
“It’s just...you don’t seem like it. You seem smart.”
Svetlana smiled. It was a small little thing, full of malice. “I am glad to seem that way toward you, madam.”
“Why aren’t you working in someone’s house?” asked Hayley. “Did you screw it up, somehow?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re a fucktoy, right? One of the maids? Did you screw something up, to not work there anymore?” She noticed Svetlana’s severe look. “Oh, don’t be offended, dear girl. I just want to ensure that I’m getting my money’s worth. I mean, why would I buy something if down the line it would have to be returned here? What if you’re some reject bimbo slut, trying to sell me goods? Ludicrous. So, were you or weren’t you?”
Svetlana took a moment before answering. When she did, the reply was accompanied by a cold, angry, toothless smile. “Not all of our girls here are requisitioned. Some of us volunteer.”
“Volunteer for service? Of this kind?”
“It is a life spent in bliss, obeying a single cause.” Svetlana sighed, continuing on down the hall. “You would be surprised how many women that appeals to. Though again, perhaps not.”
Something about the way Svetlana responded gave Hayley a chill. She decided she didn't like Svetlana. No, not at all.
> “Quite an attitude on her, isn't it?” she whispered to Simon.
He nodded, noncommittal. His eyes stayed transfixed on Svetlana's rear, and Hayley felt herself growing a bit spiteful.
They stopped at a security desk. There was a tall, bulky man with a gun on his hip and a thick baton in one arm.
“Bags,” he said.
Sighing, Hayley handed him her purse.
“Any other materials on you?”
Simon nodded, handing over his wallet and the car keys, but Hayley shook her head.
“No.”
Something in her tone must have given Hayley away.
“We’ll know if you do, ma’am,” said the guard. “The scanners. You may as well tell us.”
She sighed. “It’s just my inhaler. I don’t see why it matters.”
Svetlana took it, her eyes lighting up as she saw the small device. Hayley had severe asthma. She blamed it for why her gymnastics career never really held together. In her mind, it was a constant curse. She needed a good tug on the thing every few hours.
“Anything can be bugged,” Svetlana said. “Excuse us.”
They stepped into a small room behind the security desk, taking all the belongings with them.
“Isn’t that odd,” said Simon. “So much secrecy. Usually they just check it right in front of you.”
“It’s not a football stadium, is it?” Hayley snapped. “Don't be a dolt. I can't have you acting stupid here.”
Simon withdrew, his shoulders tensing up. His arms crossed, and he looked away.
Hayley's mood softened. She didn't like attacking her man like that. It might make him cross, later. “I’m sorry, darling. I don’t like them taking my inhaler.”
Simon took her hand and gave her a gentle squeeze. “I know, dear.”
When Svetlana returned, however, his hand drifted away from Hayley’s once again. Hayley watched his eyes roam up and down the statuesque brunette’s body slowly. Hayley would make him pay for that; oh yes, he would get quite the talking-to.
It was all well and good for Simon to be attracted to other women. That was simply an understanding in their relationship. But he was not allowed to deny Hayley affection in the face a woman who had been rather mean to her, nor show any attraction to such a woman. Wasn’t that tacit in the entire agreement they had?
It would be soon.
Svetlana led them on and they entered a cavernous hangar. At one end was a long row of women, each partitioned off by red velvet ropes. They all had little signs in front of them.
Svetlana continued to speak as they approached. “So, as far as 'legality' goes,” she made little air quotes, “you needn’t worry about prosecution, I should think. As a method of securing our position in the marketplace, we delivered maids—either factory-grown or outsourced—straight to the leaders of the local and state law enforcement community here. We are working, successfully, on more wide-ranging defenses in the federal government. If men complain, a gorgeous woman shuts them up. And if a woman complains...”
Svetlana shrugged again, somewhat sinister.
Hayley, unable to help herself, started to get aroused. Svetlana was so cold, so easily clinical about enslaving and bimbofying regular women. It was rather delicious to think about, really.
Mother had always told her that morals were for the lower classes, trying to justify why they ought to be given more when they were so unwilling to work harder. In the upper classes, morality was more like decoration for a sun room. Not strictly necessary, but rather nice when it worked out.
They finally approached the line of potential bimbos. All of them gorgeous, with long sexy hair, enormous breasts, and happy smiles plastered on their faces. More than twenty, in all, each with a card reading a different product name in front of them.
Directly in front of them was the “Basic Bimbo.” Tall, naturally standing high on her tippy-toes, ready for high heel shoes. Her blond hair was thick, draping down her back like some golden blanket. Her tits were enormous, her grin vapid and permanent.
“Mommy?” the bimbo asked, quizzically. “Daddy? Baby wanna suck.” Her thighs pushed together, hot lust juices leaking suddenly from her cunt. The smell flooded their nostrils—sweet, like bubblegum. Hayley felt her arousal levels increase just from inhaling the scent.
“Oh my,” said Hayley. “I thought she was a statue. A replica, or something.”
“No, these floor models are all quite real,” said Svetlana. “If you see one you like, we can package her together for you today, complete with wardrobe.”
Hayley had to admit that she didn’t know all the maids would be quite so...proportioned. Their figures such obviously perfect hourglasses. Svetlana had similar proportions, as a matter of fact, though her legs were longer, and her tits just slightly smaller in her tight business suit.
“You mentioned something about outsourcing,” said Simon. “What does that mean?”
Svetlana nodded sharply. “Factory grown girls as the sort you see here. Completely wiped clean, and then made docile, obedient, and gorgeous by careful supervision. But, many of our girls are what we call ‘Milk Maids.’”
“Milk Maids?”
“Yes. Their bodies libido systems operate at such high capacity, after being delivered to their appropriate location, that they become practical mini-factories of 44DD. That’s the drug we use to create the effects you see here.” She slapped the metal tip of a pointer against the Basic Bimbo’s tits, and then abdomen. “This model doesn’t feature Milk Maid functionality, thus the low cost. But for all those with the “Milk Maid” content, they are able to deliver highly potent forms of 44DD through their lactation. Which, of course, is daily. As you can see.”
Hayley followed Svetlana’s pointing. The next maid down was a practical copy of the Basic Bimbo, but her tits were leaking thick, heavy milk. She stood in a puddle of it, her toes just barely visible in the tiny transparent plastic circle she stood in. At the bottom of the circle was a drain. Hayley assumed the milk went somewhere else—perhaps to be bottled and then fed to other girls they took in here.
“Shall we continue?” asked Svetlana. “There are several more models.”
“I, uh...need just a moment,” said Simon, sliding next to a stanchion holding up the velvet ropes in front of the displays.
Hayley was puzzled. “What’s the matter, dear?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Svetlana nudged past her. She put a hand on Simon’s shoulder, coming close. “You know, Sir...test drives are part of the tour. For any one of the models. They’d all be happy to relieve you.”
“N-no.” His face was red. “I’d be mortified.”
“Cocks are celebrated here, Sir. Hard cocks, doubly so. I’d be delighted to see it...so long as your wife doesn’t demand first privilege?”
Hayley couldn’t believe it took her so long to understand the problem.
“Simon,” said Hayley, slightly admonishing. “You mustn’t be ashamed of your hard-on. Not in a place like this. But I will not have you testing out some floozy on the floor.” She put herself between her husband and Svetlana. “I rather think that, for the money, we’d like something a little more exclusive, yes?”
“No!” Simon coughed. “No, really. It’s fine. I just...just needed a moment. That’s all. Show us the rest.”
“Are you certain, Mr. Sanderson?” asked Svetlana, coolly ignoring Hayley. “I would be delighted to show you to our private viewing rooms, where you could have a girl of your choice fresh of the factory line. A virgin, even. Though no pre-factory virgins, of course. Those are for...” she raised an eyebrow Hayley. “...our most exclusive clients.”
“And what are we?” asked Hayley. “Chopped meat?”
“Every business has a strata of clientele, do they not, Misses Sanderson?”
“It’s Haus.” Hayley set her jaw. “Miss Haus.”
“Of course, dear. My mistake. Shall we continue?” Svetlana walked down the line, pointing as she went. Small overhead lights p
unched on as she walked by each new girl.“As you can see, there are a variety of models we are happy to offer you. The Happy Servant. The Milking Studmaker. The Fertile Fucktoy. The Breeding Beauty—”
“What’s the difference between the Fertile Fucktoy and the Breeding Beauty?” asked Simon. He had stopped, examining the Fertile Fucktoy. Her long chestnut hair wrapped entirely around her body. She bit one lip and spread her pussy, trying to entice him forward.
Hayley started, hoping to interfere, but Svetlana went right along.
“Excellent question. The Fertile Fucktoy model is guaranteed to get pregnant only when you want her to. The Breeding Beauty, in addition to what the Fertile Fucktoy offers, will guarantee a litter of children with every pregnancy.”
“I see,” said Simon. His face had become even redder. Hayley saw the thick, hard outline of his cock in his pants press noticeably forward and slide against the khaki fabric.
“Gosh, we don’t want that,” said Hayley. “We don’t even want children.”
Simon bristled at that. An old argument of theirs.
“Well.” Svetlana smiled. “Just so you know, all our features are chemical. So, should you decide, later on, that you would like this feature or that feature, it’s just a matter of giving us a call, giving payment, and waiting for a delivery of a new treatment. Your maid, of course, will be delighted to take the treatment dutifully, until she’s just the way you want her. She lives to serve you, after all. After she tastes your sex, you will be imprinted upon her.”
They continued down the line. There were many more options. Many seemed, to Hayley, just variations in hair color or breast size or height. Some had special skills: sexual proclivities like bondage training, domming in the bedroom, or stripping. But other skills were more germane to occupations: gardening, web design, mathematics—there was even a cage fighter!
The Maid For Pleasure Bundle 2 Page 6