Maid to Measure (dg, french maid, horny)

[smith]

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[smith]

Part 2: Maid to Measure: Tuesday

Alright, day two of the new job. yesterday had been…eventful. Hopefully I wouldn't go flicking the bean all over the place this time. I pulled up on the drive and headed up, expecting to just get in. I couldn't however, the door was locked. I knocked on it and the same maid I saw yesterday poked her head round.

"What is your business?"

"Er, I work here? You saw me yesterday!" She retained her puzzled look, so I flashed her the ID card I'd had taken yesterday.

"Oh, sorry, those only work for the day the photo was taken!" she said brightly, "You'll have to come have another one taken!"

An annoying detail, but hey, at least I was being let in now. I made a beeline for the photography box, but the maid tugged on my arm as soon as we reached the servant' quarters.

"You need your uniform first!" she insisted, pointing me towards a row of pigeon-holes. I noticed one with my name on complete with a familiar-looking package. I sighed as I made my way to the changing cubicles. I stripped off and put on the slinky black number. Hopefully I could avoid…embarrassment.

"Photograph time!"

The maid (I really needed to learn her name…) had grabbed my arm again and shunted me into the small room for photography. The flashes were annoyingly bright again. They should fix that.

I stepped out, already beginning to feel the comfort of the outfit, a second skin clinging to me as soft as any silk…

"You're on dishwashing duty today," said Sofia, breaking me out of my reverie. I had no idea where she'd come from, but I was glad she had.

The way to the kitchen was shorter than the trek to the bedrooms, so I didn't have as much time to bathe in the uniform's sultry attractions. When I reached my destination there was already a maid working at the sink.

"I was told I was doing the washing up?" I asked.

"Just…ah..just one more…uhhn…" the maid gasped. She had a plate in her hand and was rubbing it with a dishcloth in slow motions. Every circulation made her quiver like a taut bow-string. After a few more moments drying it off she nearly dropped the plate, her whole body pulling itself tight. She whimpered, clearly holding back on whatever she wanted to exclaim because I was here.

"All…done…" she gasped happily, limping out the room.

You certainly are, I thought to myself. But then again I was hardly in a position to throw stones from my glass house. I wrapped the waterproof apron around me, tugging the strings tight -so tight, oh so tight, feel them squeezing my waist, hugging me close and-okay, loosen those a little.

As soon as I started scrubbing the plates I expected to start acting like the other maid here, as though every scrub was a brush against my clit. But despite my anticipation that didn't happen.

Well, of course, it wouldn't have. The idea that this was some kind of voodoo crockery that would enchant my cunt was ludicrous.

But then so was a uniform that all but stuck a switch on my pleasure centres to turn me on. So…yeah.

I decided to leave the plates for now, just in case, and started on some of the cutlery. I picked up a fish-knife, running it under the tap to give it a quick rinse before grabbing a sponge and-

Argh! Son of a-!

I'd cut my finger on the damn knife! I'd dropped it back in the mass of suds on reflex, and examined my finger. It wasn't a deep cut, but it was a long one, stretching from tip to knuckle. Blood was oozing from it already, and it fucking hurt!

I jammed the injured digit in my mouth to soothe it. Stupid knife. I ran my tongue around my finger, tasting the salty tang of blood. Still muttering incomprehensibly to myself I slipped my lips further down the wounded finger, fastening them round my knuckle. I pushed my finger right to the back of my throat, before letting it slide out past my lips again, feeling my own soft and now slightly wet skin brush against me.

Mmm…

I slipped my finger into my mouth again, wrapping my tongue round the digit, still with its tinge of salt-flavour. My tongue and finger danced round each other in a moist tango. I started sucking harder, my finger slipping into a slow reciprocating motion, letting the ridges of skin on the joint caress my drooling lips. My finger started pumping faster, responding to my tongue's advances by flicking with my nail. My teeth joined in, lightly clamping on my finger, just so I could feel their shivery scraping against my skin.

I remembered I had a second hand, and it crept up my side and plucked at the neckline of my uniform. I say neckline, merely because 'cleavage-line' isn't a word. My hand rubbed the drool steadily leaking from my mouth round and round my chest, occasionally dipping down between my breasts to smear my belly with saliva as well

My finger was plugging in and out of my mouth like a fucking piston now, and I was groaning and gagging in rapturous ecstasy. A wave of cold suddenly hit one of my breasts, the nipple hardening up instantly. What was-?

Oh god, I'd popped out!

I'd evidently got a bit friskier than I intended, and one of my breasts had just slipped out of the skimpy maid uniform! But…where was my bra? Shouldn't it have-no, wait, in the changing cubicle I'd taken everything off. I'd just stripped naked and put on the uniform, just like that…

I realised I was still sucking on my finger, just not as frivolously as before. I pulled it out quickly, guiltily even. That was when I noticed there was no wound. I peered at my skin, hoping it was just because my finger was drenched in drool, but no. There was no sign I'd ever cut myself on the knife…

The knife which was now on the drying rack. Along with all the other washing up. When had that happened! Had I done that while lost in my own stupid horniness? Had someone else come in while I was out of it? It was the end of the day now, where had all the time gone? I couldn't have been pleasuring myself for that long!

Thoroughly shaken, I dried my hands off and headed purposefully back to the servants quarters. I wanted to go home, get myself together. Tomorrow I'd get to the bottom of this...

[smith]

Part 3: Maid to Measure: Wednesday

The last two days have been weird. I wouldn't call them unpleasant, because, if I'm honest, I was enjoying myself for a lot of the time. But they were weird nonetheless. So I was a little apprehensive turning up on the third day. I was determined not to let anything odd happen today, to try and solve the mystery of this house. I'd really have to keep myself focused…

The familiar maid opened the door again when I knocked.

"I remember you this time!" she said happily, a big grin plastered on her face.

"Oh. Hooray," I replied, with considerably less enthusiasm.

She let me in and began leading me towards the servant's quarters. I knew the way by now, this was the third time I'd done this after all, but was happy to follow her. She had a nice ass, emphasized by the tight skirt, it warmed my heart and probably a few other parts to see it bobbing about in front of me.

She smiles while I grab the package with my laundered uniform and step into the cubicle. I undress mechanically, only catching myself when I get to my bra. Do I really want to go without it again? I feel kind of exposed without it. But it didn't do me any harm yesterday, and something about the vulnerability makes my heart skip a beat. I make my decision, unclasping the bra and slinging it in the package along with everything else. I clad myself in the gloriously silken uniform and went for my photograph taken.

As I sat in the booth, the flashes searing my retinas I usual, I began to think. Did I really need to investigate what was going on? I mean, no-one was getting hurt, were they? And if I was feeling a bit creeped out by coming over all horny then I could just stop turning up. Sure, that would mean no more job, but I could always find another one. Clearly I liked and maybe even wanted what was happening or it wouldn't keep happening. Right?

"Katy, we thought we'd put you on the cleaning roster for the bathroom," said Sofia, materialised out of nowhere behind me.

"I seem to do something different everyday," I said.

"Well, yes, you're new so we want to show you the ropes to everything. In fact its for that reason we're teaming you up with Andrea here."

Andrea was the maid who kept meeting me at the door. So I had a name for the face at last!

"This is going to be fun!" said Andrea, grabbing my hand, "I'll show you the way!"

Before I could protest about being able to walk myself she dragged me off again.

We grabbed some buckets and some scrubbing brushes and made our way to the bathroom. By which I mean Andrea pulled me all the way to the bathroom, because she was stuck on a higher gear than me.

The bathroom was ornate, done in the style of a Roman bath-house, all gilded pillars and murals. The bathtub was huge, you could have fit five people in it by guess. Looked like it worked as a jacuzzi too. It would be nice if I could get to use that one day, I could always ask. I could just imagine myself sitting in there, bubbles brushing my naked skin, one of the other maids, maybe Andrea, lowering herself onto my lap so the lips on our heads and between our legs both locked in lust-filled kisses…

Mind on the job Kathy, mind on the job.

Andrea put the buckets under one of the bath's many many taps, beginning to fill them up with warm water. She filled one to the brim and was about to pass it over to me when-

"Oopsies!"

She lost her grip, letting water spill all over her front. Her uniform, skimpier even than mine, began clinging to her, revealing every sensual curve and the nubs of her nipples. I tried not to stare and failed miserably.

"You like?" she giggled, pulling on her uniform so it stuck to her like a second skin.

"Uh…" I gathered my thoughts together, "We should…we should get started."

Andrea giggled again, breaking out the chemicals cleaners we'd be using, adding them to the water in the now-filled two buckets.

They had a peculiar scent. Not the usual harsh chemical tang that stung the nose, but a pleasant aroma that reminded me of strawberries and cream. Weird, though fitting of the usual opulence of this place.

Me and Andrea start scrubbing at opposite sides of the bathroom. It was my idea. I dread to think what might happen if we started close together with me in…one of those moods. I tried to shake those feelings out my head by attacking the floor with one of those hard-bristled scrubbing brushes. I rocked back and forth with the action of wiping the floor, the brush making a distinct scratchy sound. It was much more relaxing than it was always depicted.

Just back and forth, back and forth, with the soft sound of the bristles wrapping me in a cocoon of rustles. I vaguely wondered what it might be like to slip the brush between my legs and start scrubbing away at my pussy, but they weren't overwhelming compulsions like on the first days.

That was a good sign wasn't it? Maybe I'd just been kind of repressed these past few days and a few good, hard sessions of masturbation were just what I'd needed. I glanced up to see that me and Andrea were closer now. She was as hard at work as I was, head down, focused on her task.

I could see right down her dress. That was some impressive cleavage she had.

I wondered if she would have a wardrobe malfunction. Her dress was cut lower than mine, and she was rocking just as much as me. The right motion in the right place, and one of those fine tits of hers could just slip right out. I imagined that happening and her not noticing, quietly going on with scrubbing the floor. It had happened to me yesterday after all.

Her naked breast-or breasts, that would be nice-would just be hanging their, plump and firm. I could go over to her, run my hands through her hair to get her attention, then gently ease her bits back into place. She'd look up at me, embarrassed and grateful, and maybe I'd kiss her. She a giggly person, she was bound to wear flavoured lip balm.

And then maybe we could abandon the gentleness and just fuck each other in that jacuzzi. God, that would be great. I could imagine her underneath me, that tight little body of hers bucking as she giggled. I bet she did giggle when she had sex.

Okay, so the sexy thoughts were still there, but its not like I was acting on them. I was just developing a crush on a co-worker. A perfectly reasonable physical attraction to a smoking hot body. And it wasn't distracting me from my work or anything, because look!

We were nearly done. The time had just flown by, and our combined scrubbing had moved us close together. Andrea was so close she might accidentally bump into me, her head inadvertently thrusting between my legs. I could say something witty like 'why don't you enjoy your stay down there' and she'd laugh and then lift up the skirt and start lapping away at me. I'd like that…

A hand touched my shoulder. I looked up into the gleaming eyes of Andrea. She hooks one hand under my belly and applies gentle pressure to my side with the other. I take the hint and obediently roll over onto my back. A curious smile on her face she kneels down between my legs, prying them open, then furiously starts working away at me with her scrubbing brush.

Oh god, yes, it feels so good! The bristles are rough and prickly, and tickle and sting my clean-shaven cunt. I'm moaning like a slut, and coming over and over-

I'm staring at the wet floor, on all-fours and in mid-scrub. Andrea is a few feet in front of me. Was I hallucinating just then? Surely I couldn't have been, that feeling was too intense. I've never come like that before, and the feeling of being pleasured by that scrubbing brush was unique. Each bristle flicking at my lips, whipping my clitoris as they charged upwards, the way it should really hurt but somehow managed to become something more…

I can feel a pressure between my legs. Unbidden I've slipped my hand up between my legs, brush at the ready. Before I can think to stop I've started, grinding the damp brush against my damp pussy. I start panting for breath. Panting and on all-fours…I'm like some sort of dog. But even that thought can't put me off, and I keep grinding away, as though I can scrub away my filthy flesh to reveal pure pleasure beneath.

Andrea must have noticed because her hands slide into my dress, groping my tits, pulling them out my dress. She starts sucking at a nipple, tongue and teeth playing on the tip of my breast, and I come onto my hand and brush, I come so hard it feels like I'm going to shatter-

Something bumps into the side of my head, and I snap out of what I realise is another daydream. And its not something bumping me, its me bumping something. Lost in my bizarre fantasies, I got too close to Andrea and butted (no pun intended)
my head against her shapely behind, her skirt pulled taut over it.

"Has silly puppy been working too hard?" she asks, the beginnings of a giggle making her voice lilt sweetly.

"I-uh-wuh-?"

She runs her hand through my hair, making me start breathing a little more deeply.

"I think you have. Because you haven't noticed."

Her hand runs the length of my hair and reaches my shoulder, then slips down my sternum to my chest. Its only now that I notice my breasts have freed themselves of the dress's constraints. With an easy smile on her face Andrea manhandles them back into place, tucking them comfortably in. I look up at her, embarrassed and grateful, and she leans down to beep my nose. her fingers play across my cheekbones for a moment, before she pulls me in for a brief kiss.

Its not a full-blown snog, just a delicate peck on the lips.

I was right, she does wear lip balm. Its cherry flavoured.
What just happened? That was just like my daydream only…reversed.

"Job's done, puppy! Day is done too, what a happy coincidence!" She starts packing up.
While she's occupied I subtly reach under the skirt. There is wetness on my vulva and inner thighs. So did my daydreams really happen? I don't know what else could have made me so moist, but in those dreams I ended up completely sodden.

And I'm not wearing my regulation thong…but did I ever put it on? I…I can't remember.
I leave the room dazed and confused, the taste of cherries lingering on my lips.

[smith]

Part 4: Maid to Measure: thurssday?

I'm at the door of the mansion where I work. Something bothers me, but it's a fleeting irritation unsettling the back of my mind. I can't pin it down, I'm still a little befuddled over yesterday. Andrea greets me again, and I smile happily in response to her. Guess I still have something of a crush then. She dragged me to the servants quarters as usual, but all I did was notice how soft her hands felt as I was dragged along.

"Your labour yesterday did not scare you off then?" noted Sofia, waiting to hand me a uniform, "Good to see you will not shirk your duties."

"No…got to work…" I replied numbly, only half paying attention. Well it was true, I needed the money.

"Scrubbing the master bathroom is one of the more arduous tasks here. It sometimes scares newer applicants away."

"Not me…gonna stay." I was still trying to get my head straight.

"Still, I'm sure you were glad to be back in bed after your day's work yesterday," she said, ending the conversation as she walked away.

Bed…bed…that's what was bothering me. I remember finishing the work, and changing back into my regular clothes…then nothing. next thing I remember I'm standing on the mansion's door. I…I must have gone home, I'm wearing different clothes (I check the clothes I put in the package to be sure, and yes, they're different). Maybe I was just so tired my head was fuzzy. Yah, that's it. Just tired.

Must have been affecting my memory more than I thought, my good old uniform seems unfamiliar to me. Seeing myself in the mirror I don't remember it having half-cups that leave my nipples hidden only by lace. I don't remember it being so short I can see my perineum and the swell of my vulva peeping out from underneath its hem. Then I put the apron on and everything was alright. It covered me up a little more, I must have just been unfamiliar at seeing my uniform minus the apron.

Time to work.

I make my way towards the roster, but Andrea grabs me again from the crowd of maids, pulling me towards a familiar booth.

"Forget you need photo ID, puppy?" she asked with, yes, a giggle.

"Oh, yeah, totally," I reply, grinning sheepishly.

I sit down in the bland little booth ready to have my photo taken. One flash, two flashes, three…This is more then before! This is definitely more! The flashes bombard me from all angles, as though each part of my body needs its own ID. I close my eyes to protect my eyes from the visual assault, but it doesn't help. The flashes are so bright they sear through my eyelids, imprinting blurred after-images on my retinas.

I eventually stumble out of the booth when the cameras stop, dazed and confused. I feel like I should have a tan. Andrea takes me by the hand and leads me away.

"What was that about?" I ask.

"Oh, you'll be doing important stuff today! Working around valuables! We have to make sure you're not a thief!"

That made sense. Sort of. They were checking it was really me, or just getting a good look so I could be identified if I ran off with anything precious.

I let Andrea shove something into my hand and pull me along to where I'm supposed to go. My head feels blitzed so I let her. I'm glad of her help right now.

"Dusting, puppy, you're going dusting!"

"Oh, okay…" I reply dully. No offence to Andrea, but her voice was grating on me a little right now.

Her hand lets go and I'm suddenly alone, Andrea vanishing off to her own task. I look at where I've been dumped. Some sort of drawing room or lounge; a big oak table in the middle, a stone fireplace blazing merrily away on one wall, and a cabinet holding knick-knacks and ornaments opposite the fireplace.

It didn't look too dusty to me, but then who was I to judge.

I had been given a feather duster, its what Andrea had shoved in my hand, but nothing else? Didn't I need polish? A cloth?

Nah, if I needed them I'd have been given them.

I decided to start with the table. It was a big flat surface, and I didn't need to move anything to work on it. Start simple, work my way up. I waltzed over to it, the fire already warming my exposed skin, and ran a finger along it's smooth surface. My finger didn't come away too dusty, so I didn't think this would take too long. I wonder what happened if I finished a job early? So far I'd manage to waste whole days if only because I was rubbing myself into sexual oblivion at the time.

So I swept the feather duster merrily over the table, thinking I could be done in a few moments, and was met by a huge cloud of fine grey dust. Where had that come from? I coughed as it engulfed my head, and wafted it away with my hands. Bleh, that was unpleasant, dust didn't exactly have the best taste. But I hadn't been given anything to cover my mouth, so I'd just have to hold my breath and keep my mouth shut.

I attacked the dusty table with a vengeance, striking out with my feather duster as thought I were a wrathful god and it were my lightning bolt. Making something so mundane seem epic made me giggle. I sounded like Andrea. But I liked Andrea, so was that a good thing?

I swiped at the dust in the air, trying to catch it with the duster and not let it fall on the table again. It covered my hand while I did, giving my pale skin a grey patina. It was itchy, but scratching at it just spread the dust to my other hand, so I left it alone.

A few more finishing sweeps finished the table, I was getting no more dust-clouds. Hah! Success! Now for the cabinet. Heading round the table for it, I can feel the fireside giving my buttocks a pleasant heating. It feels good, but I can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. Hey, wasn't I feeling that earlier? I remembered what was bothering me back then…what was it?…ah, I'm sure it was nothing important.

The dust lies nearly as heavy on the cabinet as it did on the table. The strokes from my duster raise great plumes of grey. As I sweep I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the cabinet's glass front. There are streaks of grime all across my face where the dust has settled on me. I reach up with a hand to brush it away, but of course my filthy fingers just left more smears. With no sleeves I lift the hem of my dress to try and clear my face, letting cool air hit my crotch. That…that seems odd. Shouldn't I be wearing something under the dress?

No, no, if there was supposed to be underwear it would have come in the package like the rest of my uniform. I never got a bra to go with the dress, did I? I must have just taken my panties off by mistake. Yeah, that was it, everything was fine.

I swept up the last of the dust on the cabinet, and stopped to look at my reflection again. Ugh, I was still covered in filth and grime. I wiped my face with my hands, forgetting that they too were covered in the surprisingly cloying dust. With my face nearly completely layered in grey dust I shook it and spat, trying to remove as much as I could.

Eventually I gave up and tore off my apron, using it to get my face back to normal. I wondered if I could pay a visit to the bathroom I cleaned yesterday as I threw the soiled apron down on the ground. Now for the fireplace and I'd be done.

I stumbled over to the last chore in the room. I couldn't seem to walk straight. It was my head, it felt heavy and scratchy. There must have been some dust in my ears and the apron had forced it further in, affecting my inner ear or something.

I decided to take it slow on the fireplace, or I'd just get myself covered in the rising dust again. But as I brushed I couldn't help but feel itchy from the dust that had already covered me. I just wanted to scratch and rub myself all over.

No! Don't think of rubbing!

Too late. My pussy was beginning to tingle. It took me a moment to realise that this must be from when I'd used my dress to sweep my face. The dust had gone from face to dress to vulva. Damn! I quickly grabbed the hem of the short dress and tugged it off over my head. There! Problem solved!

Only it wasn't. In dragging the dress up I'd smeared the dust all over my front. And everything exposed to the dust was beginning to prickle and itch. Pussy, belly, breasts.

And ooh, it felt like it had breezed inside my head, coating the inside of my skull. Fuck, I just wanted to scratch and scratch and scratch! I grabbed my breasts, mangling and squeezing them to make the prickling stop! I didn't care that my dust-covered hands were probably just making it worse, I needed to satisfy the urge to quell this damned itching.

But I couldn't get at the dust inside my head. It was swirling around behind my eyes, making me feel heavy and dizzy. And warm. But that was the fire. It was slightly soothing, actually, warm balm on my itching skin. It was odd, the dust was making my skin feel like it was on fire, but the actual fire just gave me a glowing sensation.

I lay down on the floor-or maybe I collapsed-either way I ended up lying down on the carpet in front of the hearth. Just…just had to relax…head so full of dust, swirling round and around. Couldn't think, couldn't stay balanced. Needed…needed to dust…but just wanted to sleep…sleep…

No, wait! That was it, I just had to dust!

The feather duster had dropped from my hand about the same time I'd started plumping my breasts like pillows. I reached out for it, dusting myself like I'd dusted the furniture. I tickled my tits, stroked my stomach, and finally descended to my pussy, screwing my eyes shut as I fluffed away at my slit. It felt so good, so right.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!"

Dusty dusty dusty. So full of dust. Needed to clean it all away. Clean the dust away, leave me clean and empty. So so empty…

Something surged through me like an electric shock. I think I was coming. I groaned in happiness as darkness consumed me...

I awoke because someone was shaking me.

"Puppy! Puppy! Are you ok?!"

Apart from shaking me awake Andrea was holding a damp sponge, pressing it against my face. And not just my face if the layer of cold damp over my body was any indication. I felt cool and clear. After the cloying heat of the dust it was very refreshing.

"I forgot to tell you about the safety gear!" Andrea wailed, "You've made yourself unwell!"

"Uughnwelll?" I repeated, voice slurring as I couldn't quite control my jaw.

"Yes, inhaling all this dust has made you quite ill, puppy." Andrea had her concerned face on. It was quite a funny sight. "You should go home."

"Hoohhmme…"

She helped me to my feet. Half-leaning on her I managed to stumble my way to the main entrance. She waved me good-bye as I shambled out the front door and all but fell into my car. I pulled the seatbelt over my naked chest and-wait, was that normal?

Yes, yes of course it was. I needed my seatbelt, that was the law. Duh.
Now. Home. Home…hoooo...

[smith]

Part 5: Maid to Measure: frriiiiid-

Bleh.

Must have nodded off. Oh I'm in my car, must have fallen asleep after parking. Guess I've been working too hard but then I do like working. Working is good, makes me feel good…

I need to clear my head, its too stuffy in my car. Head feels like cotton wool, stuffed full of fluff and air. Too stuffed with stuffy stuff…

The air is cold and refreshing on my bare skin. Wait, bare skin? Am I still naked? Its so hard to tell, without my uniform I'd feel naked whatever I was wearing.

Go to door, get let in. This is my usual routine, its nice and familiar and doesn't make my head hurt. Andrea smiles at me, giving me a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. I feel so warm and fuzzy that I miss the words she's saying. I assume she's saying things. That's usually what happens when you move your mouth, isn't it? Words come out. Unless you're chewing, but then stuff is going in. And I can't see things going in, so things must be coming out…yes, that seems right.

Oh, there's a vacuum cleaner in my hand now. One of the old Henry Hoover kinds, red and round with a big stupid face on it. Andrea must have been telling me what my job is then. And its vacuuming. Glad I managed to catch up.

Hands start stroking round my sides. I notice Andrea isn't in front of me and deduce that she's wrapping me in something. Hah, see, my brain is still working! I shudder as Andrea tugs and the fabric round my ribs tightens. A corset? I think I had one of those on my first days, wasn't it built in to the uniform, or was I just fantasizing?

"Foot!" chirps Andrea. Her hand is around my leg now. I assume she wants me to raise my foot, so I do, and a silky mesh creeps up my calf. I recognise it, I think…its one half of a pair of fishnets. So she'll be putting the other one on soon.

Trying to impress Andrea with how little my brain has turned to mush I raise my other foot before she asks to show I've figured out what she's doing. Shame I forgot to put my other foot down first.

I fall onto my butt, and just thinking the word butt makes me giggle. Andrea gives me a motherly smile as she pulls the second fishnet up my leg, fixing it in place with a garter. Lastly I'm given a frilly hat, little more than a hair band, to keep hair away from my eyes.

"Say cheese!"

Andrea is pointing a camera at me. I give a dopey smile, the sort you'd normally see in silly family photos rather than an official ID. The flash of the camera seemed to last forever, embracing me in a web of light. I can almost see myself, sitting there in a corset, fishnet stockings and a silly hat, a careless smile plastered across my face. The image burns itself into my head. Happy me, careless me, silly little me.

She takes me by the hand and her skin feels oh so soft. I could sleep on that skin like the finest silk sheets. When I'm where I'm supposed to be, when I fit into the ordered work schedule like a jigsaw piece, she releases me and heads to her own section of the jigsaw. I feel disappointed until she plants a kiss on my cheek. I sigh contentedly, the touch of her lips remaining on me like lipstick made of…made of…emotions, and…things. I really suck at similes. Sooo…I guess I should better get working.

The work is easy, much easier than the first days. I had to do so much stuff for them. All those blankets and dishes. Vacuuming is easy, I just have to stay still and move my arm. I wonder why they're giving me such easy tasks? Do they think I'm not qualified? Have I not been doing a good enough job?

It's not been my fault if I haven't, my head's been so full of light, so easy to distract. Actually…why is that? Why have I been feeling like my brain has been knitted all week? Why has my uniform been degrading to this…atrocity I'm wearing now?

Just what the fuck has been going on!

As thoughts coalesce in my head, my grip on the vacuum falters. Before anything like real clarity can break through, my legs are knocked from under me. Caught unawares, I fall flat on my face.

"Ughn!"

I try to get back up, but something coils round one of my arms and starts tugging me about whenever I make attempts to get upright. Another length of coil ensnares my legs, trapping them tightly together. I manage to roll onto my back only to see the freaking vacuum cleaner attacking me. Its nozzle is extending to infinite lengths to wrap me up like its possessed by the spirit of Kaa. It manages to bind my other arm as I stare in wide-eyed astonishment. This…this cannot be happening! Even compared to my other days here this is just…beyond reason!

I can't fight it as it wraps around my whole body, trapping my arms more securely. The blunt plastic end presses up against the side of my head, sliding and scraping until it reached my ear.

Then it started sucking.

Oooh. Vacuum suction on my ear reaching down into my brain pulling out all my thoughts so they whistled away like dust down that long dark tube and uuuuhhhh…
Everything fraying, falling apart. Head so full of air, all substance flying away into the red belly of the grinning creature before, sniffed away by its oversized nose like Columbia's finest. My memories, my reason, my name, all spirited away leaving me vacant and drooling on the floor. Not enough brain power to wriggle or protest as the nozzle presses against my other ear.

But this time the flow is reversed, its blowing into my head, filling me with dirt and much and whatever else a vacuum cleaner gets filled with.

My head is so filthy, so I must be too. I'm a filthy little dust-slut slave. Nothing in my head but dross and ooze and I love every second. Like yesterday or a hundred years ago or whenever it was that I got dust all over my skin, but countless times better because now its inside me. I want more! I want to be disgusting and depraved! All my thoughts are behind the vacant smile of the vacuum which leaves me with the glorious filth!

My bound hands are loosed slightly, and I can't tell whether their steady movement to between my thighs is my own volition or the coils of the vacuum directing me. Its probably me. Because I'm full of dirt and dust and little maid-slut.

Dirty dusty maid slut.

Dusty slutty dirty maid.

My hands feel like dustcoths as they sweep round and round over my wet slit.

Its such an easy job. I just have to stay still and move my arm…



THE END

[summertime]

Loved the story, thanks