Punished Maid
by
Sadie Wittmore
Punished Maid
The friend
The damned waitress looked like a stripper. Her short black skirt barely covered her beautifully rounded ass, and he probably could see the bottom of her bra if she was wearing one under her super tiny crop top. Without a bra, her nipples nearly poked through the thin fabric, making Kurt member trying to do just the same in his trousers.
Michael winked at him when the minx left. “Come on, man! You should make your move. I saw how she checked you out.”
Kurt looked at his friend with feigned hurt in his eyes. Well, it wasn’t fully feigned, he was still hurt. Sarah had left an emptiness as big as the universe inside his heart. It was exactly two years ago when she died in an accident. Kurt himself didn’t know how much he loved her until he couldn’t touch or see her, ever again. The first year had been the hardest. He had been devastated. He lost some of his friends and nearly messed up his company. He locked himself into his memories of Sarah. Pushed away any helping hand, refused to see or listen to reason. In the end, Michael was the only person who hadn’t given up on him.
Another year later, he was almost himself again. Except with women. Sarah’s ghost still loomed above him every time he glanced at a pretty minx like that waitress. Every time when he looked at a woman who kindled his desire, a small voice in the back of his head reminded his promise to his late wife. The worst part was that he knew that Sarah would have wanted him to move on, to be happy, to live, to be alive.
“I’m... sorry. I didn’t mean...” Michael began, seeing his friend’s expression.
“I know, I know,” interrupted Kurt, “and you are right. I do need to move on. It’s just... so hard.”
Michael sighed in relief. This was the first time since Sarah’s death when Kurt admitted he was right. Then he noticed his friend’s sizable erection. He was quite famous amongst the ladies when they were younger. Apparently, nothing has changed in that front. A wicked smile spread across his face.
“I think it is hard.”
“What?” Kurt raised an eyebrow.
“It is really hard,” he nodded toward his groin, “lucky that your trousers are of good quality. Imagine the fabric ripping apart...”
To Michael’s surprise, Kurt chuckled. Then it was his turn to sigh.
“I miss sex,” he admitted, “I really do, and she’s hot as hell.” He held up a finger, stopping his friend’s words in his throat. “But she is too young.”
“Hell, she’s not!”
“What? I eat my hat if she’s over twenty.”
“And how old were you when you first scr..., had sex with Sarah? He asked accusingly.” I’m pretty sure you were both much younger than she is now.”
“That was different.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m 40 now.”
“Then what?” Michael argued. “You are both adults. And before you say anything, you are still a badass. You are in better shape than most of the 30 years old.”
“I...”
“No. You listen to me now.” Michael raised his voice. “I know what you need.”
Kurt had a vague idea about Michael’s solution to his problem, but he didn’t want to go down that road. Oh, he could pay for some luxury escorts, money wasn’t the problem. But it’d be soulless. Worse, it’d be fake. Even a one-night stand would be better because there would be desire, lust. So, he was rather surprised when his friend began his story about their live-in-maid.
How they decided to hire somebody. How she was extremely good at her job. How lovely a person she was. How much better she ran the household than his wife, and so on.
“... but then Julia got all worked up that I just want to fuck her. She made a scene even Hollywood couldn’t produce, so I had to pull my tail between my legs.”
How on earth he had never told him that they had a maid? Kurt was really surprised, almost shocked.
“And you’re telling me this, because...”
“Because you should hire her man!” He stated the obvious. “She is amazing, and yeah, super sexy. But I swear I didn’t touch her.”
“I have people coming over to do the job,” Kurt said.
“It’s about not being alone,” he paused and grimaced, not sure if he should go on. “It’s... I... You know, I feel guilty. I did want to screw her. God help me, I wanted nothing more. And she lost the job because of me. I thought if you could...”
Kurt hit him on his shoulder.
“Rascal.”
He didn’t think it was a good idea, but he owed Michael.
“What the hell,” he surrendered. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Before he could finish the sentence, Michael put a business card on the table.
“Ask for Danica Cunniff.”
***
The pimp
The girl had a pretty face with long blond curls and piercing blue eyes. He liked it. He liked her full lips the most, though. She could seal his cock with them perfectly while she sucked every drop of his cum.
She had a slave collar tattooed around her slender neck. It was professionally done, too, even depicting a ring on the front. In the low light, it looked almost real.
This should turn him on? Thought Kyle Johnstone as he ran his lecherous eyes down to her cleavage. He didn’t care about that stuff.
Her tits, however, were a lot more to his liking. The little bitch had fucking huge melons for her tiny size. She was barely taller than five feet with a waspish waist and a small but shapely ass.
Kyle already felt his cock straining against the confines of his jeans. This is going to be fun.
“I need to see your ID,” he said to her. The last thing he needed to end up in jail, like his idiot brother, Mike.
She handed it to him.
“Hmmm... name, ‘Danica Cunniff’, age...,” he whistled satisfactorily, “you’re really 21, eh?”
“Yes,” she answered meekly, her eyes not meeting his.
He looked closer at her birth date just in case, but the ID seemed genuine.
“And you understand what kind of service my customers require?”
Again she said, “Yes.”
He stepped closer to her and cupped her chin with one hand then turned her face left and right. He felt her body tremble slightly, but she didn’t resist at all. Good. Very good.
As far as he knew she desperately needed money. And she was one of those weird submissive chicks who enjoyed a good beating. He had quite a few clients with requirements she could fit in just fine. But he would be damned if he didn’t taste her before. He was an asshole, a womanizer but not a sadist. Maybe if he fucked her very hard? Would that satisfy her?
There was only one way to find out.
“All right. You got the job.”
“Thank you, Mas... Sir,” she said, letting out a breath he didn’t notice she was holding in.
“But,” he looked at her with his sternest expression in place, “I need to know if you can do the ‘job’. I can’t just send you out. What if you run like a bloody chicken? That would be bad for my business, wouldn’t it?”
“I will do whatever I need to do,” she promised, looking down at her feet.
And she would. Not happily. But it was part of her plan. She had been through a lot worse. She would do this one last time.
“Take off your top!” he demanded. He hoped he sounded dominant. “And the bra,” he added quickly. Why the fuck are these stupid bitches wearing a bra in the first place?
She did as she was told.
Again, very good. She will be a great addition to his company.
The chick had been blessed with a pair of fucking amazing boobs. Just how he liked it. They
were large but firm, not sagging the slightest under their own weight. Her nipples were long and pierced. He wanted to play with them badly, but his growing erection was killing him.
“On your knees, babe!”
She obeyed instantly, then without asking, freed his erect cock from his jeans. She took it in her hand as it finally grew to its full size, then bent forward and wrapped her lips around it.
He moaned as her mouth began to slide up and down on his shaft. Her lips worked the head of his cock when she pulled back while her tongue lapped at its sensitive underside. With one hand she reached between his legs, cupping him, squeezing his balls almost painfully.
“I... ahhh... You’ve sucked cocks before, eh?” he asked grunting, but it sounded more like a statement.
She was fucking good. He grabbed the hair on the back of her head and pulled her mouth deeper onto his throbbing member. She swallowed him, not gagging once. Satisfied he forced her all the way until he felt her lips against his small balls.
He felt them tightening up already.
Shit. He must last longer.
He pulled out of her mouth and yanked her up.
“Down!” He pointed to the tabletop. “Move bitch!” He added, hoping again he sounded like a real fucking Dom. He was sure he was doing a great job dominating her.
He turned her around and pushed her bare breasts to the cool tabletop. In her high heels, she was taller than him, so he kicked her legs apart wide to lower her ass. Quickly pulled up her short black skirt to reveal a pink thong deep in her rounded cheeks. He hungrily pulled the lingerie to one side to reveal a shaved pussy glistening with wetness. She had big pink butterfly lips. Fucking beautiful.
He ran his fingers up and down on her sex spreading her juices on her lips. Then he remembered to rub her clit. Or maybe Subs don’t even want that? When she moaned loudly, he slapped his ass hard once. But he wasn’t about wasting time with fucking spanking. He entered her slowly, determined to last a bit longer this time.
She gasped.
“You like that, eh?” he asked.
“Ohmmm, yes... Yes..., sir! Ahhhh!”
The fucking little shit loves it. Of course, she does.
But just after a minute, he lost control and sped up. He feverishly pumped all of his pathetic four inches into her warm tunnel.
She moaned dutifully even though she was hardly aroused.
Kyle Johnstone cried out as he spilled his few drops of cum inside her. Then he told her to clean his cock.
She did.
She hated it.
She hated him.
“One more thing about your first job,” Kyle called after her as she was leaving his office. He still didn’t want to believe his luck. Finding a new girl this fucking sexy and somebody was already asking for her? “The man is a new client. If you mess it up, you’re out!” He said warningly.
She will not.
***
The girl
Kurt saw the taxi rolled up to the door. He felt nervous. It was ridiculous. He didn’t have to seduce this woman, only give her a job. Who knows, maybe he’d even like her being there.
He opened the door to see the yellow cab already disappearing behind the large evergreen shrubs lining his driveway.
Then his jaw nearly dropped all the way down to cobblestones.
Either Danica Cunniff looked ten years younger than her age, or she was not Danica Cunniff.
A young woman stood in front of him. She was wearing a black knee-length puffer coat, a red scarf, fishnet stockings, and cheap high heels. Her long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She could have run for the ‘worst-dressed’ award on the Oscars red carpet.
But her pale-skinned oval face sprinkled with freckles was angelic. She looked at Kurt with shy sparkling blue eyes, and she swallowed hard. Her voice was sweet and trembled just a bit.
“Mr. Gorman?”
Kurt swore under his breath. He will not hire a ‘girl’. He’ll definitely have a few words with Michael.
She became more agitated as Kurt didn’t answer right away.
“My name is Danica Cunniff,” she said in a low voice. “I’m here for the interview.”
“I think this a mistake, Miss Cunniff,” he answered coldly, which made her flinch. “Please go back to your boss and tell him I no longer need a maid. Good day to you, Miss.”
She looked crestfallen by his refusal, but he turned back and went inside.
Immediately, he regretted his words. Whatever happened, this wasn’t her fault.
After a few moments, he heard a knock on his door.
“I’m terribly sorry Mr. Gorman,” she began when he opened the door. “I don’t have any credit on my cell, would you be so kind as to call me a taxi?”
He could tell that she was on the verge of tears. And top of everything, it began to rain again.
Damn it!
“Please, come inside,” he stepped aside. “I apologize for my rudeness.”
She shook her head as if it was nothing to mention.
“It might take a while for the cab to arrive. Would you like to sit down?”
“Yes, please.”
He led her to the living room and motioned her to the couch. Her eyes widened at the sight of the luxury leather furniture and the open fireplace.
She sat down, then quickly stood up again.
“It is very warm here. Can I take off my coat, please?” her voice was a caress to his ears. A mixture of youth, innocence, and naivety.
“Of course. Would you like to drink something?”
“A glass of water, please,” she answered.
He went to the kitchen and called a cab, then came back with the water.
He nearly dropped it.
She was sitting on the couch again, her coat folded next to her. Her shapely legs were closed tight, her hands in her lap. His eyes paused on her pale smooth skin between the fishnet and the bottom of her outfit. She was wearing one of those sexy maid uniforms from adult movies, the hem of it barely covered her bottom, while the top part looked more of a corset than a dress. Her shoulders were exposed along with nearly half of her large beautiful breasts.
Then he saw her tattoo on her slender neck. It depicted a slave collar.
His heart skipped a beat. Then the glass shattered on the marble tiles beneath his feet.
She jumped to her feet and ran to him. She began to pick up the broken shards before he could stop her.
“Don’t...” he tried to grab her hand, but in his haste, he startled her and she cut a fingertip.
A small hiss left her lips.
“No, no, no... I’m terribly sorry, Miss Cunniff. Wait for a second,” he said.
He brought a band-aid kit and held her hand as he applied the sticky material. Her delicate hand was warm and soft, so feminine. The touch ignited his passion. And he held her hand just a bit longer than it was necessary. His eyes were drawn to her cleavage, to her neck, and to her tattoo. At that moment, the first time in two years, he was free of Sarah’s ghost. He wanted to touch Danica. He wanted to kiss her soft lips and skin, play with her amazing breasts. God help him, he desired her madly.
Luckily, she didn’t notice him ogling her. She kept her eyes lowered the whole time.
“Please, Miss Cunniff,” he pulled her back to the couch. “Don’t worry about the glass.”
When she sat down, he saw tears in her eyes. First, he thought maybe her finger hurt that much, but it couldn’t be.
“Are you all right, Miss?” He asked with real concern in his voice.
She shook her head infinitesimally but didn’t say a word. A teardrop rolled down her cheek and dropped onto her breast.
Damn it!
He shouldn’t have invited her inside. Now, he felt responsible for her.
“Please, Miss Cunniff. Can I call you Danica?”
“Yes,” she said. At least he thought she said yes because her voice caught in her throat.
“Danica,” he tasted her name on his
tongue. “What’s wrong?
There were more tears now. He sat next to her and held her hand. “You can tell me whatever troubling you. I promise I’ll help if I can.” He sounded like a teenage boy who had a crush on his neighbor’s daughter.
And she did tell him.
How much she needed this job. How Mr. Johnstone promised to fire her if she messed up this job. How happy she was when she first saw the house and him because it seemed so perfect. How she didn’t have a place to go, and so on. She was nearly sobbing by the time she finished.
Damn it!
When the taxi arrived, he helped her to the car and told her that he would be really happy to hire her.
She looked at his eyes the first time and hugged him.
“Thank you,” she whispered into his ear, then kissed him on his cheek.
Kurt stood on his driveway dumbfounded as the cab disappeared. He looked down at his trousers. There was a rather big wet stain just where the head of his penis painfully strained against the fabric. When he closed the door behind him, he masturbated thinking of Danica.
***
The room
Danica moved in the next day. She looked a lot more relaxed. Kurt had decided the previous day that he would buy her some ‘normal’ uniform, but when he saw her in that sexy outfit again, he simply couldn’t do it. Just for a few days, he promised himself, then he’ll do it.
He showed her everything she needed to know, which was mostly common sense. Then he remembered his ‘room’.
Damn it.
Kurt told her that there was a locked door in the basement and that she should not try to open it. Later, he realized, he must have sounded like a serial killer who hid his victim’s corpses there. Idiot. To his relief, the girl didn’t seem to be bothered by his strange command. He gave her his number in case of an emergency, then left to his office in the city which was about half an hour away by car.
Kurt had hidden cameras in practically every room in his house, save the bedrooms. He let a small pop-up window running on his laptop’s screen showing his security feed from the house, so now and then he could check on her. He ended up spending a significant amount of his time ‘spy’ on his new employee. She, however, didn’t need any supervising. Day after day, week after week, she dutifully cleaned and organized the house. She could even cook a bit.
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